#am already thinking of ways to tackle some problems in therapy! it’s gonna be good

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Five:Sensory Integration 1

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: A Friday full of teasing for Shane ends in a steak dinner with a blue-eyed beefcake. If you don’t finish this chapter hungry for one or the other, if not both, I haven’t done my job! Lol! (For inspo on Sy’s date outfit, think back to that one Men’s Health photoshoot Hen did and just imagine his hair shorter. That’s what I did. lol!) 

Click me to catch up on the story and other stuff by Hannah!

Word Count: 4k (This date got away from me! Lol! And it’s only half over!)

Warnings: Mostly this is utter fluffy fluff, but I’m gonna put the following warnings on, anyway. Language, mature themes, alcohol consumption, borderline food worship (Shane may have a problem, I definitely do! Lol!) Also, pretty much every Sy fic I’ve read says that his given name is Logan, so...should his given name be used henceforth, that’s what I’m going with because it seems the most cannon and I like it and if it’s good enough for Wolverine...

Author’s Note: So, guys, this is crazy. First off, the reaction and love Sy and Shane’s story has been getting has taken me completely off guard and utterly made my day/week. (I’m serious. Every note makes my heart do a happy dance. A like, a reblog, a comment. It all means the world to me. Thank you for your feedback and for sharing this story.) Second, YOUR FEEDBACK MATTERS TO ME! Because initially, idk what I was thinking. I was going to skim over their first date and like…not write it…and I kept getting notes as I worked on further chapters to the tune of “can’t wait for this date!” and I thought…hmm…well, the date must be written! So, here it is, the first half-ish, of Shane and Sy’s first date. I hope it’s all you were expecting…or at least half of all you were expecting! Lol! More to come in part two of Sens Integ! (BTW, fun fact, these chapter titles are all named after treatments that therapists actually use on their patients sometimes! Lol!)

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee @bloodyinspiredfuck @agniavateira @oddsnendsfanfics @omgkatinka@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland @speakerforthedead0@tumblnewby @suavechops

Friday morning. She was up with the sun. And a bit before, really. Today was the day. Her first date with Sy. She’d taken extra care in the shower, less clumsy, thank God! She shaved her legs because she had chosen to wear a knee-length blue dress with a scoop neck and cap sleeves in wrinkle-proof Jersey knit since it would be in her tote bag all day. She was not shaving because she thought anything would happen tonight with Sy. She didn’t think she was ready.

That is, she was ready, but, only physically. Emotionally, mentally, she would need to prepare for him a bit longer before taking him as a lover. She hoped he was on the same page.

He had an appointment in the early afternoon. He greeted her with his warm “Hello, sunshine.” Following it up by telling her how pretty she looked today, causing blush to burn in her cheeks. She’d reciprocated, even though he was in his typical tee and shorts look. It was still true. They got on their usual bikes to warm up for about 15 minutes, and then took to the leg press to try to advance his strengthening.

“I’m really proud of your progress! You wouldn’t have been able to do this much weight two weeks ago!” She encouraged him.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Now, we are going to do some drills next. Simple ones, but they aren’t going to be fun for you. I’ve chosen to do them on your last day of the week for a reason. You may be sore. Ice and whatever you take OTC if you must. Ibuprofen or acetaminophen. But try the ice first. It shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Okay.” He conceded, dejected.

“Stretching afterward.” She promised.

“Okay!” He pepped up. She knew he just loved an excuse to have her hands on him.

Later, as he lay on the mat, sweaty from the exertion of the drills, with her up there with him having to use her whole body to leverage the proper stretch out of his hip flexors, she felt the heavy weight of his gaze. She tried to look anywhere but those sapphire eyes below her. They were too vulnerable. She couldn’t handle that right now. Not here.

“Shane?” Dammit, he was gonna make her.

“Hmm?” She looked down at him, smile meeting smile.

“I just…” he couldn’t seem to get out the words. But she thought she understood what he was feeling.

“I know, Sy. I know.” She gently patted his outer thigh where she had been bracing her hand for the stretch, and let his leg back down, while dismounting the mat, as well.

“Well, that’s about the hour. Any questions before I let you go?”

“Are you as excited for tonight as I am?” He asked. She chuckled. She couldn’t imagine him being more excited than she was!

“Yes! Hehe! But I still kinda meant about therapy, Sy.”

“Oh, right. Are you excited to finish up with your therapy patients at therapy today so I can pick you up from the therapy clinic and take you on our date?”

“Just because you say therapy 20 times doesn’t make it about therapy.” She laughed.

“Okay, I do have a question for you, since I’m here.”

“Shoot.” She encouraged.

He stood and held her face, taking it into a kiss so devastatingly and painfully tender, she could not process what to do next. She was leaning toward fainting. But then tackling him onto the mat again seemed an attractive option. She settled for placing her hands on his waist, ready to control the situation as need arose. But after a brief moment of slight deepening, he broke away, still holding her face in his large strong hands.

“Ahem. That’s a good question. Why don’t I have you a reply later this evening?”

“Sounds good to me, sunshine.” He grinned widely, and waved a quiet goodby to her.

She walked to the doorway of the small room to watch him walk out…his gait still uneven from his injury but improving enough that she could tell he once took very…confident strides. She could almost picture it. She sighed, forgetting herself for a moment until Anita came up behind her walking her elderly patient with a gait belt and front wheeled walker.

"Is that a bit of drool on your chin, Shane?" she said quietly, but still startling the younger therapist from her reverie.

"Oh, uh, hey." she checked her chin, absentmindedly, late in getting the joke, and rolled her eyes. "Funny, Nita. Do you need anything?"

"Nope, Gladys and I are just headed to the gym for a few minutes on the NuStep to round out her treatment." Nita grinned at Shane.

"Who was that handsome young man that just left, Shane?" Gladys asked her, as women of her…demographic tended to do.

"He's just one of our patient's Miss Gladys. But I can't tell you his name. It's against the privacy policy." She explained.

"Oh, okay. Well, if I was a few years younger, I'd let ya give him MY name…and my telephone number." she smirked with pride in herself. All three ladies giggled.

"I'm pretty sure he's spoken for, Gladys." Anita broke the news to her randy patient, smirking at her coworker.

"Shame! Well, that's one lucky young lady!" Gladys hobbled on with the walker as Anita cued her not to let the device get too far ahead of her feet. Shane was beet red from the whole interaction. At least she wouldn't have to wear blush tonight.

Her day finally finished, notes done, and final communications sent,  the most important (in her opinion, probably not her employer's) message of them all was next. The text to Sy that he could head toward the clinic to pick her up.

She touched up her eye makeup, applied another coat of mascara, and dabbed on some of her favorite lipstick in a deep red that complimented her skin tone. She also spritzed on a bit of her favorite Armani perfume before slipping on her dress and black ballet flats and sliding on a pair of simple hoop earrings. She'd had her hair pulled up all day in a clip, so it should be pleasantly wavy when she took it down…and with a bit of flipping, shaking out, and finger diffusing, it was.

She looked in the mirror. She was ready.

Was she ready? She examined herself in the full length mirror in the empty locker room at the clinic. The dress and the shoes suddenly seemed all wrong, both together and as individual pieces for the occasion. She looked great, it wasn't that…but…was it right for tonight? Should she cancel? Was she being ridiculous? Clearly she was, as she'd already sent the message telling Sy he could come get her. But the closer she got to being ready to go, the less ready she felt. Those butterflies were suddenly clawing at her esophagus, disrupting the bile in her stomach, and threatening to choke off her air supply. They were no longer pleasantly fluttering. She felt like she had a boot against her windpipe.

She was snapped out of the panic attack when she heard her phone go off. A message from Sy.

Your chariot, m'lady. Should I come in and get ya?

She grinned like a lunatic. How could she have considered calling tonight off?

Nay, m'lord, verily the gates be locked. I shall use the rear exit and meet thee around yonder forsooth.

Wow, you ran with that one. *laughing in tears emoji*

I have that tendency. Lol. *monocle wearing emoji*

She grabbed her bags, walked out the back door, and tossed the one that wasn't her purse into her vehicle, which was parked nearby and walked around to the front. He was standing on the sidewalk near that edge of the building.

The sun was just setting, and the light from it hit him so bewitchingly that it took away her breath. Not in the frightening way of the panic attack she'd just had, but in the nice way, like right before you surface from a deep dive and you know the sweet relief of oxygen is imminent. She assessed his ensemble with approval. Black books, sleek dark blue jeans, and a sapphire v-neck polo that even in the low light of near dusk made his blue eyes dance with vibrant intensity against his fading tan. His hair was starting to grow out ever so slightly, but it was still very close cropped. His beard, she could tell, had been finely groomed, combed, and styled. He looked…well, she'd never looked up the word "handsome" in the dictionary, but she imagined it would describe the image before her quite succinctly. And alternatively, Sy's image could be used as an illustration in the reference book, itself.

The best part, though, was the look on his face when he saw her.

She felt like he'd never properly looked at her, perhaps. Maybe he wasn't expecting a dress, or loose hair, or red lips. Or maybe it was a combo of the whole Date Shane package he was seeing before him. As his eyes beheld her, he almost looked confused. As if she was a stand-in. Or maybe an alien. Some body-snatcher. Only he wasn't frightened. She was having a hard time working out his expression as she'd really never seen it before, and particularly, never aimed in her direction. He said one word.

"Wow." It was reverent. Not a whisper. But barely a decibel above.

Again, her cheeks required no artificial pigmentation.

"Hey. You look…you certainly scrub up good, mister." she giggled nervously, feeling immensely awkward at her inability to properly compliment the chiseled image of Adonis before her. His every muscle hugged to perfection by the fabric covering it. How did you even begin to tell such perfection how perfect it was?

"You…Shane, I don't remember the last time I saw anyone look so beautiful." he frowned, as if trying to recall, then giving up with a smile, and leaning in to kiss her cheek. He lingered a moment to hug her, hold her as the day faded, breathe her in. She did the same. He was freshly showered and wearing cologne, as he often did, but it rarely hit her so solidly as it did tonight. She loved this scent. Woody, but earthy, with notes of bergamot, a kind of musky scent similar to amber, but more masculine, and something spicy that she loved. The combination exploded like an olfactory fireworks display.

The shirt was an unthinkably soft cotton (blended she thought perhaps with kitten, she could not stop touching it.) and the warmth of him radiated into her as his chest rose and fell over the course of his numerous breaths as they stood there holding each other and enjoying this feast for the senses.

"You ready for supper?" he asked, a faint but distinct rumble from his abdomen indicating that he most certainly was.

"Yes." she smiled up at him as he took her hand in his and led her to his truck. A Ford F150, the same sapphire blue as his shirt and his eyes. She was sensing a pattern, here. It wasn't the newest vehicle, but he had taken immaculate care of it. She felt shame for her own treatment of her Explorer, Bessie, which often functioned as storage shed, trash can, and sometimes, hotel, when she felt like a road trip on a shoestring budget. He walked her to the passenger side, opened the door for her, and helped her in, as the truck sat a bit higher than what she was used to.

"So, I have us a table saved at this great steakhouse just down the road. And then, it's supposed to be a nice night, I thought we could take a walk by the lake?"

It sounded perfect to her. Quiet and simple.

"Amazing. As long as your knee is up for a walk?"

"I've got all weekend to rest before getting tortured again." he smirked at her as he pulled the truck out of the parking lot and on the main road toward the interstate. "B'sides, who better to have with me if I start hurtin' than my PT?"

The emphasis he placed on the possessive pronoun, claiming her as HIS PT sent a delighted shiver through her that she blamed on the AC, which he promptly turned down.

He had his Spotify shuffling Kings of Leon at a low volume as they conversed lightly and pleasantly. Since it was an earlier model, even well equipped as it was, it wasn't quite ready for auxiliary or Bluetooth sound, so he'd bought one of those radio receivers that tune into an unused frequency and connect to your phone or iPod. She'd retrofitted her 2003 Ford Explorer in a similar fashion.

They were both caught a bit off guard when "Sex on Fire" came on, and tried valiantly to keep talking. But it was hard to hear anything but those lyrics. Singing of exhibitionism and dangerous sex acts that were definitely moving violations…and simply the sex being on fire. She was thankful, for once, that this song that she'd always found catchy without paying much attention to the actual lyrics, was now fading into the night as they pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.

She remembered to wait for him to get the door for her, even though it had been ages since she'd been on a date or had any kind of romance whatsoever. He helped her down from her perch, giving her a gentlemanly moment to adjust her skirt before taking her hand and leading her into the building.

He opened the door and led her in by that lumbar lordosis that made everyone tremble and swoon. She was no exception just because she knew that part of your back was not actually called "the small" and she got perturbed when she heard it referred to as such.

"Welcome to Mark's, how can we help you?" the host greeted warmly.

"Reservation for Syverson." Sy piped up. She was used to being the voice in these situations. She was thankful not to have to for once. It was a small thing, but it was still nice.

"Right this way, folks." he grabbed two large menus, a mid sized one, and a small one, and led them to a cozy but still spacious two-top in a quiet corner of the dining area. The warm light was low and ambient, and there were real kerosene lamps on the tables, which she loved. It had the rustic ambiance of a cabin with all the refinement of any four+ star restaurant she'd ever been to. Not that she'd been to many.

"Here you are, the table you requested, and your menus. Have a look at them, and Katie will be out soon to answer questions and take your orders."

As he walked away, Sy pulled her chair out for her, and aided her sitting. His gentility was so refreshing to her, because it was so sincere and kind, and in no way oppressive or domineering, as some men seemed to use such gestures. Wielding them like a club rather than a feather. She was just used to seeing a certain side of him, teasing and silly as he was in therapy that this side of Captain Syverson, or as she may end up calling him one day, Logan, his given first name, if it pleased him, had taken her off guard.

"Nice place." she approved, looking around at he exposed beams of the ceiling and the iron and copper chandeliers and light fixtures on the wall. She also noticed quite curiously a copy of American Gothic by Grant Wood on one wall and The Kiss by Gustav Klimt on another. Such different styles to be displayed in one room. She really liked it though.

"It's one of my favorites. I try to come in every couple weeks or so." The fact that he liked steak on the regular was definitely a point in his favor. She loved it but rarely went out for it on her own. Eating out alone wasn't so bad, but it was hard to enjoy a steak dinner by one's self.

"What's your favorite cut?"

"Oh, I've tried most of them, and you can't go wrong." He assured her.

They had a crazy selection. Ribeyes, filets, sirloins, prime rib, all seasoned, smoked, topped and wrapped in every way you could imagine…it was like staring at the Netflix menu of steak. And much like she tended to do with Netflix, she relied on a classic favorite. After all, who goes for an obscure choice their first time at a new steak house?

"I'm keeping it simple and going for their prime rib and a baked potato."

"Ah, that's a perfect choice. We're getting some of their lobster mac and cheese to start, though. Unless you're allergic or something?" he added the disclaimer when he saw her eyes widen.

"Not at all, that sounds…"she was thinking "sexual," but decided instead on "heavenly."

Soon, Katie, a peppy, slender young redhead in black jeans she'd been poured into and a white T-shirt she had outgrown some time ago, descended upon their table with gusto.

"Howdy, I'm Katie and I get to take care of you fine folks this evening. What drinks and appetizers can I start y'all off with?"

Sy looked at Shane to prompt her to start.

"Sweet tea?" she half stated, half inquired. Katie nodded and jotted.

"Sure thing! Sir?" she thought her eyes sparkled when she looked at Sy…she couldn't blame her. But…she thought she could take her if she tried anything. She was certain there was a very sharp knife in the black napkin set-up at her right hand.

"Same for me, Katie. And we are also gonna need an order of your lobster mac to start and a bottle of your house cab."

"Fantastic. I'll be right back with the teas and wine after I put in for the lobster mac for ya, and then I'll take your meal order." she smiled brightly. Sy looked at Shane, though, as he replied "Wonderful."

~~~~~~~

Her instincts about the lobster mac and cheese had been spot on. She couldn’t contain her yummy noises of enjoyment which amused Sy to no end. She couldn’t imagine the steak any better.

About that, she had been completely wrong. It was so succulent, tender, and flavorful, she debated on whether or not the provided au jus and horseradish were even needed. They were also too good to resist, though.

Her potato, twice baked to the perfect tenderness had a salt brined skin, and a garlicky butter that just sung with the sour cream and chives. She was in food heaven, and even if that meant she was dead, it was fine.

He’d ordered the same entrée as she had, but took his baked potato…a bit differently.

“You don’t like sour cream?” She asked, nonplussed.

“Nah, I mean, I can eat it, but…it feels weird in my mouth. I prefer the au jus and butter, instead. It’s much more tasty.” He said, waggling his eyebrows.

“I guess I’ll take your word for it.” She laughed.

“You’re welcome to try mine when I get it all doctored you how I like it!”

She did, right from his fork. And he was right about it being so flavorful, but she preferred the mild, creamier texture of her own side with the savory notes of her steak.

They ate and enjoyed each other’s company and conversation.

“Ya know, Sy, I totally had you pegged as a beer man, instead of a wine guy.” She said, as she brought her own glass of the deep red liquid to her mouth and nose, inhaling the bouquet before she took her sip.

“Normally, you’d be right. With a burger, pizza, sometimes tacos or what not, definitely. But I can’t do beer with steak. It’s gotta be wine. Red. And full-bodied.” He held her gaze as he drank from his own glass. Why did he have to look at her like that when he said those kinds of words? Her cheeks were warm from more than the booze.

For desert, they shared a decadent marbled brownie/blondie a la mode. He’d had the idea to slide his chair so he was sharing a corner of the table with her, rather than looking across it at her. Purely so they didn’t have to keep sliding the dessert…not so their knees would brush against one another now and then, or so they could feel the heat radiating from one another’s bodies…but actually, exactly for those reasons.

“Last bite is to you, Sy.” She set her fork down, full to bursting.

“Are you kiddin’? My mama’d tan my hide if she knew I took the last bite from my date.”

“You’re being gallant, actually! Rescuing me from a certain belly ache.” She patted her small but slightly rounded tummy. She did like her food, and was no gym rat, after all. He didn't seemed to mind. Yet.

“How 'bout we share the last bite?” He suggested.

“Technically that’s not physically possible. Becau…”

He interrupted what was going to be an intellectual explanation of why no matter how small you cut up a bite, the remaining bit was still technically one bite, and couldn’t be shared.

“No. Shh. I know you’re smart. You got nothin’ to prove here. I’m gonna cut what’s left in half until I get a bite you’re willing to take. Okay?” She nodded.

He only had to take the fork to it twice before she conceded, also letting him feed her, feigning paralysis from the food coma. She held the fork tightly between her lips, making him work to pull it from her mouth. She looked innocent, but she was an intentional little shit.

“You're so cute when you eat.”

“Said no one ever!” She held her hand over her face.

“You are, though. You enjoy the food. Experience it. It’s like you’re…getting a story from it, or something. Like it’s…almost like it’s entertaining you, I don’t know. It’s just…beautiful.” He leaned his elbow onto the table, supporting his head in his hand as he looked at her.

"Well, sometimes I think I like food a little TOO much for my own good." she lamented, reaching for the cabernet only to have it snatched by her date. He uncorked it and dispensed a generous pour for her, and topped off his own glass, killing the bottle.

"No such thing. Like I said about the wine, full bodied is the way to go. Nothin' wrong with a little cushion." he winked at her. She could not resist finishing a rhyme she'd always heard about the desirability of curvy girls…for the pushin,' and hoped the flush in her cheeks from the wine was enough to disguise the deepening color from the current blush she was feeling thinking of Sy…pushin' her cushions…but something tipped him off to her distraction.

"What's on yer mind, sunshine?"

"I'm wondering if you're prepared to carry me on this walk we're planning, actually." It was possible to think more than one thing, after all. "I don't know how I'll ever even walk again."

"Ah, give it fifteen minutes. Finish up your sweet tea, and by the time we're done with our walk, you'll want an ice cream cone."

"Ha, doubtful." But she was ashamed to admit, ice cream already didn't sound bad. Vanilla…maybe pistachio….no, coffee! In a waffle cone…with fudge drizzle…and almonds…maybe she had a problem.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

She nodded. He flagged down Katie and gave her cash, and what one might call a benevolent tip. They left the warm steakhouse, and entered the breezy late summer evening, the humid air seeming thick with promises.

Up Next: Chapter Six-Sensory Integration 2

#netflix sand castle #sand castle #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x ofc

[yayeetsonny]

New Beginnings~Chapter 3

This is shorter than I’d like but hopefully that’s okay. I noticed my timeline was all screwed up so the book is actually set in 2020, my bad. Also the pandemic doesn’t exist in this universe. Enjoy!

4 1/2 Months later…

Ryley PRO//

It’s been over 4 months since my accident and I am finally out of all my casts and no longer have to use a wheelchair to get around or write with my other hand. I won’t sugar coat it the first 4 months were hell and there was a lot of tears and lot of moments where I wanted to give up but Christen, Alex and our teammates made it all worth it. They helped me through the lows of physical therapy and they were there to celebrate the highs too. They had to return home after the first 2 weeks but came to visit at least once a month if not more. I was initially worried that I wasn’t going to recover in time for the Olympics at the end of July but after putting in a lot of work and pushing myself past my limits sometimes I was able to get through physical therapy much sooner than expected and I was able to show Vlatko that I still deserved a spot on that roster.

After that scare I had in the first month when I woke up not being able to breath the girls took me to a doctor and I learned that I did in fact have asthma and that I had experienced a laryngospasm because of it. I was given an inhaler and everything was explained to me so now I know what to do if it happens again, but I haven’t had one since, nor have I had any asthma attacks. Alex and Chris hovered a lot after that but now they’re much better at trusting that I’ll be okay.

I ended up finishing my junior year online and when I was able I moved back to the group home in Colorado. I didn’t want to but I couldn’t remain under Christen and Alex’s care if I wanted to be able to travel with the team this summer to Japan. They would have had to adopt me in order for that to work but I still wasn’t ready and they understood. We still text and call all the time of course and they come to visit me when they can. I still haven’t told them the true extent of how poorly I’m treated here but I decided that was for the best. 

It was warm out today and I had decided to ride my skateboard around town, my free time before I had to leave for the olympics was coming to an end so I had to take full advantage of it. We would be getting on a plane in a week and then hopefully we would return home with the gold and we could say that we pulled off the impossible: World Cup champions one year and olympic gold medalist the next. 

I reluctantly decide to head back to the group home after another hour and when I get there it’s no surprise that the house is full of potential adoptive parents and families. After politely introducing myself to a few of the people I make my way upstairs knowing no one would be interested in getting to know me. I check my phone and see I have a few texts and missed calls from Alex.

“Hey sweet girl, hope you’re having a good day. Chris and I Love and miss you.”

Read one text

I decided to call her as I had been missing their voices. She picked up on the third ring

“Hello?” Came her raspy voice through the phone.

“Hi Alex.”

“Well hello my sweet girl, how are we doing today?”

“I’m doing good, I miss you guys though.”

“I know but we’ll see you really soon.”

“Next week, do you think we’re ready?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be baby.”

“Am I ready?”

“Don’t second guess yourself, of course you are. You are going to do amazing I just know it.”

“Thank you for always believing in me.”

“Always have, always will. I love you kid.”

“I love you too.”

“I gotta go but we’ll see you soon okay?”

“See you soon. Tell Chris I said Hello and that I love her too.”

“I will, bye R.J.”

“Bye Alex.”

While I was talking to Alex I was completely unaware of Ms.Williams listening outside the door and when I hung up Ms. Williams stormed into my room, completely disregarding my “Knock first.” Sign, yanked my phone out of my hand and prevented me from taking it back,

“This is now mine, thank you.”

“What did I even do?!” 

“You were talking to that Alex Morgan girl.”

“Okay first of all she’s a grown ass woman and second, why is that such a problem?”

“Whenever you talk to her or that Christen girl they give you false hope.”

“What? Again, they’re grown women, not teenagers. What do you mean “false hope”? That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“I’m talking about the fact that you think you’re going to the Olympics.”

“I am going, I already made the roster.”

“If you think I’m going to let you leave the country while I’m still responsible for you, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“You can’t just not let me go! That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair.”

“You can’t stop me from going, it’s my life.”

“While you live here I decide what you can and can’t do.”

“Well, then I just won’t live here then.”

“Pfft, where are you gonna go then?”

“Anywhere is better than here.”

“If you leave now you’re not allowed to come back.”

“I don’t care. Give me my phone.”

She threw my phone on the bed and left, leaving me to grab my duffle bag and get out of here. I packed only things I would need, grabbing my board I started to climb out the window, using the tree by my window I was able to get down safely and remain unseen by the families that were still in the house. I didn’t know where I was going to go and I realized this was probably a really dumb thing to do but I couldn’t give Karen the satisfaction of knowing I had backed out. 

I just started walking in a random direction and kept going until I couldn’t anymore. When I took in my surroundings I realized that I had already walked pretty far and that it was getting dark, if I wanted to find at least a semi-safe place to sleep I need to start looking. 

I was able to find a good enough bridge to sleep under for the night and settled there. Chris and Alex are so going to kill me.

The next week flew by, I was able to make the bridge a “home” of sorts and I was able to do some chores for the manager of the grocery store I walked to everyday and in exchange he paid me with food. This way I could save my money for Tokyo and for getting more clothes before I left. I knew that he had his suspicions about me being homeless but he never brought it up and by the time it was time for me to go to the airport we had become good friends and I even told him about the team and going to Tokyo. As for showering I was able to convince the owner of one of the gyms in town to let me take showers there without having a membership. I was just wrapping up my last day of chores when the manager of the store, Kevin came out of his office to see me off.

“Hey kid, you leavin’?”

“Yeah, I’ll miss you Kev.”

“I’ll miss you as well kid, good luck in Tokyo. Bring home the gold.”

“Yes sir. I’ll try to visit from time to time.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing you again.”

After we said our goodbyes I grabbed my stuff from the back and started to ride my skateboard to a department store where I could get a suitcase and some more clothes. Then I headed for the airport. It took forever and having to hold a suitcase made it pretty hard to stay balanced but I finally made it and after getting my luggage checked and going through security I just barely made it on time for my flight. I would be flying to Portland first and then from there we fly as a team to Japan. It would be a long couple of days and I’m sure I’m going to be exhausted by the end of all the flying but it’ll all be worth it once we get there.

When I arrived in Portland I was greeted by almost the whole team, a few people’s flights were still just landing or would be arriving shortly. The first people I saw were Chris and Alex, they ran to me and wrapped me up in their arms, smothering me with kisses. I hadn’t told them about anything that happened over the last week, they still thought I was at the group home. It got a little hard when they called me a couple times and there was a lot of commotion on the bridge but I just told them I was out riding around and that it was traffic in the street.

“Hey baby! We missed you so much.”

 Christen all but tackled me to the ground as Alex came around to hug me from behind. We landed on the floor and I found myself in a Chrislex sandwich. 

“I missed you guys too!” I gigged at their excitement

I made my rounds and was sure to say hi to everyone as they arrived and once everyone was together we were ready to head to our gate for our second flight. We had to wait around for an hour or so before we were able to board, I sat in between Al and Chris. Mal, Rose and Sam sat in front of us and Morgan, Kelley, and Emily behind us and Ali, Ash, Megan, Julie, Tobin, Crystal and Lindsey in the rows directly across. Everyone else filled the remaining rows. This 13 hour and 10 minute flight was going to be long and it would probably get really old fast but I knew my teammates would make it fun and entertaining for at least part of the time. 

14 and 1/2 hrs later…

We had finally landed in Tokyo and after almost 15 hours of traveling we got to the hotel and were able to go straight to our rooms. It didn’t surprise me that I had been placed in a room with Christen and Alex, after not seeing each other for a while I was glad to be with them. Everyone was exhausted, so much so that all anyone said to each other as we went to our rooms was “Night.” Or just a grumble as a way to say “See you in the morning.” 

I was allowed first dibs on a bed so I picked the one closest to the window. 

“Goodnight baby love, see you in the morning.” Christen said from her spot on their bed.

“Goodnight kiddo, sleep well.” Alex yawned

“Goodnight guys.”

They both fell asleep instantly and I was left to wonder how I was going to tell them about everything. I knew I had to tell them the truth soon, I just didn’t know how. On one hand I knew that they would be mad that I had taken off from the group home but I also knew they were going to be even more upset that I didn’t tell them. I knew that if I had they would have come to get me and then they could be arrested for kidnapping or something like that if Ms. Williams found out and decided to report me as missing just to spite me. And yes technically she could do that now and it would be 10x worse since I left the country but she’s not going to risk her reputation by doing that. At least I don’t think she would. 

I ran through what I was going to tell them in my head over a dozen times before I was finally able to go to sleep. I knew tomorrow was going to be tough but I just had to hope that I’d be ready to face the music. 

//

Hey guys, this isn't my best work and this is probably all over the place but I hope it was still good. Sorry for mistakes.

- N

Tag list: @slow-dance-in-the-dark​ @messyheath​ @yeetlysonnett​ @anniekin-98​ @kayleighromae​ @ihavebeenchangedforgoodmenzel​ @laikato​

#uswnt #uswnt fic #christen press #alex morgan #alex morgan x christen press #chrislex #uswnt imagines #uswnt x original character

[goth-albino-angel]

How you got an analysis degree and can’t analyse a post’s intentions properly

It wasn’t a post one can analyze properly. The post was too short for any ‘proper analysis’ and too broad for it. My interpretation of it is proof enough of that. I understood the intention just fine as soon as I read the comment underneath the initial post.

The problems come from the fact that you can’t simply say, “Process these things outside of fanfiction”. Not only do plenty of people not know how to do this safely, but most of the people who need to do that are kids. Teenagers write and/or read fanfiction about their experiences as a coping mechanism because they are in a world that hates their existence. They aren’t taught how to deal with their trauma, with highly stressful situations, with social situations that make them uncomfortable. Adults have a terrible habit of just expecting teenagers to know things the way adults do and if those expectations aren’t met, a lot of adults just write it off as ‘broody rebels’.

I understood the post. People need to be able to process trauma and mental illness outside of written word because if they can recognize these things outside of fiction, they have a better likelihood of getting out of dangerous situations or working through their problems, or even helping someone else get out of situations that can hurt them. There’s the belief that people distance themselves from it if the characters are fictional. That ignores the fact that people enjoy characters that they can identify with, which is the entire point of the Representation Movement. People identify with those characters. They see themselves or they see who they wish they could be. Projecting is a very real and very common thing, especially in fanfiction, and people do it for things they either really like or characters that remind them of themselves.

Sure, people can distance themselves, but that is also a form of connection because it allows victims of trauma or abuse to be outside looking in. To see the things that happened to them and realize they aren’t good, or aren’t right, and aren’t healthy. That these behaviors shouldn’t be considered normal and they shouldn’t be putting up with being treated this way.

Where that post falls short is that it fails to do the elaboration that I am doing right now. Intention and tone don’t carry across text very well. You can say they do, but they don’t. Everyone’s mind interprets the words differently. Something that sounds hostile to someone could be interpreted as relaxed to someone else. Elaboration is important in situations like this because “process these things that could potentially trigger you outside of the safe environment you’ve been processing them without anyone helping you tackle these things because the odds are societally stacked against you” is the take I initially came away from before I reread the post slower and then submitted that reply. The post in question is much shorter than that, and that’s the problem. They did not elaborate. They simply put the post and figured people would understand and that’s not the case.

When making posts about favorite characters or fridge logic about movies and books, no elaboration is needed unless people start a discussion about it. When talking about trauma, abuse, grooming, mental illness and such, and deriding a medium that’s commonly used to work through these things in a world that refuses to help, you need to be more specific about it because fanfiction is important. Really, any medium is important, but fanfiction especially because anyone can make fanfiction. Yes, bad, terrible, reprehensible people can make it, but so can kids who just want their lives to suck a little less. If they had someone helping them work through that stuff, maybe we wouldn’t have gotten to this point, but most of them don’t so we did. And looking things up online isn’t as open and shut as people seem to think it is. There are a lot of contesting sites with contradicting information and for teens who already have to be weighed down by school and homework, you really think they’re gonna wanna do more research just to enjoy a story?

There’s a lot of problems with fanfiction there’s SO many damn problems but acting like simply saying “process these heavy topics outside of fanfiction” isn’t going to bring up some complications is a problem in itself. Therapy is expensive and research takes time. Fandoms are toxic as fuck a lot of the time, but that’s on the people in them just as much as the fanworks that come from them. And most of the time? Those people are adults who should be able to process things better, but just like the teens in the fandom, they didn’t get an outlet or someone to help them understand this stuff when they were younger either.

Analysis posts in fandom work wonders. Deconstructing abusive relationships, actual toxic behavior or dynamics, or pointing out potential mental illness parallels in characters help people see something they might not have noticed or understand that the behaviors explained aren’t healthy. This can easily blow up in a fandom’s face if the people making the analysis posts are morons who have no idea what they’re talking about, but usually, some really thoughtful things come out of analysis posts and video essays. Those are supremely useful because they help you process the media outside of fanfiction without potentially hurting yourself. Fanfiction can be useful for helping to process this stuff, but if people are going to recognize these behaviors or get help outside of fanfiction, they need help. Therapy is expensive and research takes time. It takes five minutes max to read an analysis post about an abusive family, unhealthy relationship, or breakdown of a character’s mental illness.

#Fandom #Fanfiction #Analysis #Trauma #Abuse #Processing mental illness #Responses #I nearly completed the psychology and writing degrees as well

[toycarousel]

some advice? Please dont laugh when I say this. I'm transgender, ftm, but I dont like being called transgender, I just want to be called male. But at the same time,I'm african american, and dont want to be an african american male. The very thought scares me to no end and makes me want to not bother with transitioning. My therapist says that my dysmorphia and dysphoria are too conflicting to do anything with, but I dont want to stay as I am. So I'm at an stalemate. Idk what to do next. Advice?

(Disclaimer: I’m not a therapist or any sort of medical professional, so I can only offer my opinions + advice, but if anything feels off to you at all, then totally feel free to ignore it!)

Of course I’m not gonna laugh, Anon, and I don’t get why anyone would -- you’re in a very, very difficult, painful position, and a LOT of therapists aren’t great at figuring out the tentative balance of understanding who a patient is, what a patient needs, what a patient wants, and which steps they need to take with said patient in order to not harm that person... it can definitely take time.  If they’re a good fit for you, they’ll become better at understanding that balance (and also doing their proper research) as they get to know you more, and will offer more helpful options if they’re open-minded about trying a variety of angles instead of just sticking to their little therapy scripts, esp when those scripts don’t always apply neatly to every individual.

I’m not trans (and I’m white), so I could be totally off on a bunch of what I’m about to say (plus everyone’s experiences are different regardless), but I have met a few different people who don’t want to refer to themselves -- or be referred to as -- transgender.  Though their birth assignment doesn’t align with who they are, which fits the definition of “trans”, the term itself just... doesn’t work for them, specifically, and I think I can understand that.  I was born intersex (a person with mixed physical sex characteristics -- many that I didn’t even find out about until much later in life), but I wouldn’t consider that to be a huge part of me, or a defining way to describe my own relationship with gender.  For example, I wouldn’t want to be referred to as “that intersex person”, by other people, unless it was genuinely medically relevant in that moment.

So what I’m personally interpreting from what you’ve written here is that you don’t want the bodily aspect of things to be this constant focus of what your experience in life is, regarding gender.  Since cisgender (and also many intersex men, tbh) get to be referred to as just men, then you should be able to have that same thing, if it feels right for you, imo.  You being what other people would define as “trans” doesn’t make you less of a man regardless, so, ultimately, it’s fair to just want to be referred to as a man, same as all other men.

Wrt to you not wanting to be an African American male due to the terror you feel associated with that specific combo of identities -- well, that sounds incredibly tough for you to be going through, and to try to reconcile! And it’s something I can’t personally imagine (I wish I could help more, so I’ll just offer what I can, but again, if anything sounds off to you, feel free to disregard what I’m saying!) 

I can think of a lot of reasons off the top of my head as to why a person would be terrified to be a black man, but the ones that come to mind for me are things like: having to face an increased risk of police brutality, racism, other stereotypes, other ppl’s expectations as to who you should be -- all those types of wide-reaching social reasons.  But I also don’t know if those reasons are your specific reasons for being terrified of being an African American male, you know? Like on a personal level.  I can take a guess at more specific, internal reasons you might have, but that would be me kinda doing armchair therapy, so I won’t deep-dive there -- however, it’s always a good idea, and appropriate, for you to do some of that intense self-examination, you know? And I’m sure you and your therapist have done a lot of that already, but if you haven’t yet written down your exact reasons for this particular terror, maybe try that out! It’s one of the skills we learn in DBT (and other forms of therapy that I’ve been through).

I’d write out separate pages for each specific thought.  For example, one page listing the reasons/thoughts/emotions as to why you don’t feel comfortable with being labelled as trans (the ways in which it doesn’t apply to you, how you feel when someone does apply it, etc).  And another sheet listing the reasons/thoughts/emotions as to why being an African American man would terrify you, VS just being African American in general.  Again, your reasons for not wanting to be referred to a certain way are totally valid, Anon! These sorts of sheets/journaling exercises are just to help you feel like you have a more solid grasp on where your own emotions are coming from, and to give you something physical to hold onto when you want to explain it in more detail to yourself and your therapist! 

A really, really, really helpful sort of worksheet/mindfulness activity to help us figure out what we’re feeling is this one I also learned in DBT (a form of therapy that is just ridiculously helpful for everyone, imo), and may help with writing out the things I mentioned above.  These are called behaviour chain analysis worksheets, and are usually used to prevent a behaviour that you want to stop engaging in, but what they also ultimately do is help ppl unravel thoughts, emotions -- your primary emotion is especially important to know, because that’s something you can then target with your therapist.  Here’s some info on how to do one: https://www.verywellmind.com/how-to-do-a-chain-analysis-for-problem-behaviors-2797587

And a basic worksheet version (it can rly help to have on-hand, so it can be written down and you can check it out whenever you need to).  https://www.dbtselfhelp.com/html/behavior_chain_analysis.html

Like, for example, say you do one of these sheets to figure out the primary emotion behind bodily dysmorphia.  Say the behaviour was that you snapped at a friend for making a comment about your body, and you want to know why exactly you snapped at them (what about their comment hurt enough to elicit the reaction), and prevent it in the future.  The behaviour chain analysis is a space where you can write down what the behaviour was.  In this example it’d be; “Behaviour: Snapped At Friend”, and then you write down the initial feelings you had associated with it, and the thoughts that went with those feelings.  

Eventually, for example, say that you thought the reason you snapped at them was anger (which is by definition, a secondary emotion -- secondary emotions aren’t less important than primary emotions, but they’re the emotions that happen after primary emotions, sometimes mere seconds after), but when you look at the thoughts you wrote down that you experienced in the moment you snapped at the friend, and dig a little deeper, say it turned out that the primary emotion (the one that happened before the thoughts, and before the secondary emotions) wasn’t anger, but actually shame.

(I’m not saying yours will be shame btw, I just like using shame as an example, because a lot of my own thoughts and feelings and behaviours and inner conflicts are rooted in shame).

So then that gives you something solid to show yourself, but also to bring to your therapist.  Instead of the therapist focusing on only the thoughts and feelings that they’re visibly seeing in you in a session, they now know that you’re struggling with underlying shame, or sorrow, or grief, or disgust, or fear, or whatever the primary emotions end up being for you.  Then the therapist can more easily help you through tackling the dysmorphia, and any unwanted behaviours and thoughts + emotions associated with it.  And being able to tackle one of the things you’re struggling with in the ask you sent me above means that the dysphoria may start to make more sense for you in the same context as the dysmorphia -- and, hopefully, there will eventually be less of a conflict between the two, or at least they’ll be more understandable, even if they’re entirely separate from each other.

Since you’re not yet sure you want to transition due to these very genuine inner conflicts, then, like, I get why your therapist isn’t going ahead with it, but I also don’t want you to have to stagnate with therapy, or be denied the sense of progress, or with generally getting to know yourself either -- I want you to have the opportunity to live a life that feels right for you, but without the various intense fears associated with that! And I know that it’s fully possible, and will likely just take time, and support, and a willingness to unravel some things that... are probably gonna hurt a lot to unravel.  So you should definitely make sure you’re ready to unpack those things and are doing it with a professional you trust; and that you have outside support networks as well (friends, family, whoever is close to you that you can talk to).

Remember that there’s absolutely no time limit on when you can and can’t transition, if you choose to in the future! Plus, there are ways of transitioning that aren’t All The Way, you know? Reversible things you can do (which may have been what you were asking for from the start, ahahaha! My apologies for my wordiness in this response :’)

There are obvs options like binding, packing, etc., that you probably already know about (and know more about than me, tbh).  But you can also try other things out too -- there are certain types of makeup techniques/contouring for a more masculine look, more natural forms of altering hormones (if you feel safe doing so, and your doctor suggests any safe options -- definitely research this one thoroughly ahead of time).  

A legal change of name can also switch up how you feel a whole lot, if you’re ready/able to do so, (and if not, even just asking ppl to refer to you by a name that you choose, or a variety of different names, depending on whether you’re not sure which one fits yet; it’s always okay to change your mind wrt these things).  

Changing your wardrobe drastically can also rly alter how other ppl view and treat you, and I know there are resources online, and many on this site (mainly written by ppl who use the term trans for themselves, but that will hopefully be helpful to you as well), that have clothing swap links, and other suggestions as to more transition-related things you can do to move forward, while also not making any decisions that feel too permanent! Here are some of the links/resources along that vein that I could find:

https://transclothesexchange.tumblr.com/ (clothing exchanges)

https://transguys.com/style/trans-clothing-exchanges (clothing exchanges)

https://thebodyisnotanapology.tumblr.com/post/97564996149/transgender-resources (resources in general, including general body positivity, which could be incredibly helpful during especially dysmorphic and/or dysphoric times!) 

https://advicefromabro.tumblr.com/gi (I think this is an older post, but it mentions an app that will allow you to find a gender-neutral or safe bathroom, if that’s currently a concern for you!)

https://transstudiesarchive.tumblr.com/post/168139537672/transgender-resources-masterpost (looks like this one has some resources for African American people as well, among a variety of races)

https://nonbinary-support.tumblr.com/resources (this one has some links regarding name changes and tips for choosing a name, if that’s something that you’re interested in!)

https://transgenderteensurvivalguide.tumblr.com/post/147789231360/makeup-tips-for-ftm-people (some makeup and skincare tips for men!)

(I hope some of these are helpful for you, Anon! I’m sorry that they use language that doesn’t apply to you, it’s just what came up when I researched these tips -- but I think these are resources that could be helpful for anyone in a similar boat, not strictly trans ppl!)

In any case, whatever you do and don’t do, you can always choose who you are and how you represent yourself.  There are some physical aspects to a body that cannot be changed, or can only be changed with medical intervention, and some aspects of appearance that will always be there (skin colour, etc), but these things don’t define who you are.  I dunno how helpful this will be, but I wanted to also leave you with this; you may have certain body parts, but they aren’t your gender, or the sum of you.  People might assign labels like “trans” to you, but that doesn’t make them right, or you wrong.  You’re African American, but that’s not the sum of you either.  Your race, your gender, these are important aspects of our lives in the sense that they inform our experiences in a lot of ways, but they aren’t Who You Are.  “African American male” may be something a doctor writes on a sheet for you someday, or maybe not, but regardless, it says nothing about you as a person:  

It doesn’t tell anyone what you love, what you dislike, what makes you happy, your hobbies and interests, what you’re good at, what you want to become good at, your dreams, your goals, your personal achievements, those little things in life that make you smile sometimes, your complexities, your favourite colour, a place you’d love to go, a place you already like to go when you want to be alone, or somewhere or something you want to share with a loved one someday, a movie scene that made you cry, whether or not you’re an animal person/want pets (or already have them), your lifelong habits, embarrassing things you did when you were younger, how deeply and wonderfully you affect the people in your life, stories you may have created, your sense of beauty and style, a song or a poem that speaks to you, your sense of humour... all these things are yours.  No matter where you are in life right now, and no matter where you want to be in the future! No one has the right to define you but you -- and no one can take that from you. 

Happy New Year, Anon! And best of wishes~!!! : D

#advice asks #race #gender #dysmorphia #dysphoria #therapy talk tw #dbt resources #gender resources #ask to tag #Anonymous

[fieldbears]

Washed-Up Stucky MNF/Fic Writer Provides Endgame Opinions

I’m going to try to tackle this linearly, at least to begin with:

I am very much Team Bored With MCU Hawkeye, but I want to give sincere props for the cold open, which I think accomplished several things simultaneously: recapped the consequences of the last film (since, hey, it’s been a fuckin while), set the tone, and began Clint’s narrative arc.

That said, jesus, I’m still irritated by the shoe-horned family to begin with. First they were invented for convenience and narrative stakes, and then their final, ultimate reason for existence was to be temporarily fridged. Take a moment to imagine a world where Clint was the circus runaway loner he was supposed to be, who only had his coworkers as found family, who either responded to The Snap by throwing himself harder into his teamwork work OR went rogue because his sense of justice and agency was so fucking destroyed by what happened. He didn’t need a blood family to have the arc he had. And he didn’t even need the arc he had. But this is a bitchfest about a choice made many years ago, not made in this final movie.

The first third of that movie was rough. The whole thing had the narrative flow of “A Series of Related Short Stories Played One After the Other”, but the first third seems to be Failing To Establish the New World and then Clumsily Establishing The Emerging Situation.

The establishing shots and scenes to show the audience what The Snap’s consequences were worldwide were... lacking. It’s dark? No more baseball? People are relying on natural light instead of interior lighting, but this is also happening at Avengers HQ, where they clearly still have power and internet access to work their tech, so... was it just an aesthetic choice? I feel like the film tried to spend time showing us what the consequences were for the average New Yorker, but instead we get a weird Canonly Gay Russo Character who gave a good performance that tells us about the human loss but not about the mechanics of this new world. We get the ‘no baseball’ shot and all we get afterward are ‘people miss the missing people’. But restaurants still exist? Businesses are functioning? (Wouldn’t New York run kind of smoother if it wasn’t overpopulated?) I feel like we were invited to start thinking about how this dystopia works, but were never given answers. (There are so many interpretations of how things could go wrong if certain people just disappeared, and their knowledge/access were suddenly unavailable, and none of it was explored, even briefly, outside of establishing shots.)

The Garden Planet - it’s discovery, the traveling to it, the fight there - lacked emotional grounding in a way I find hard to explain. The audience was excited for Brie Larson being a fucking boss, and the quick execution of the grab-him-and-cut-his-arm-off plan was satisfying, but the twist and subsequent letdown was just a weird beat after a slog to get there, after waiting on a deep letdown beat from the last movie.

Last thing about flow and emotional beats, because I want to move on to character analysis, and this is a huge one for me: Clint’s fight in Tokyo and Steve’s fight with himself were some of the biggest missed opportunities in the entire film.

Not counting the football field brawl at the end, which I don’t count as a real fight scene, these are the two major fight scenes of the entire film and as far as I can tell, there was no effort made to make these showpieces. They went to the trouble of bringing Clint to Bladerunner Central, and pit him against the last bastion of aesthetic-obsessed mafia in the world. The panning camera in the interior as Hawkeye fought goons brushed past lazy fight scenes that only showed who was winning, not the brutality that Clint was supposedly falling into, not the grit of this new awful world, just... shapeless dark bodies getting thrown through windows? And on top of that, they could have made up (or picked from canon) any Big Bad to pit him against outside in the street, and we get an Orientalist sword fight that could have fit in nicely on a CW superhero show, and some of the most unnecessary exposition dialogue I have ever heard. Someone bothered to weave Clint’s arc in earlier, with Rhodey explaining to Natasha that Clint’s gone International and also Worryingly Dark. Why the fuck do we have the ‘I’ll give you anything you want’ line, on the rotten cherry on top of ‘stop being mean to the yakuza, we didn’t start it’? You already covered his motivations with the cold open.

And while Steve’s fight ended in a FABULOUSLY HEARTBREAKING WAY, the fight itself was nothing - you can pick little character details out like how they both ditched their shields almost immediately, and it was funny that Then-Steve mistook Now-Steve for Loki in the first place, but it was still a completely lost opportunity to get one true superhero battle in this three-hour slog. Both Steves could have gotten up and carried out the rest of the narrative after a decent brawl, but instead they fall a great distance after some blocked shots and it... was nothing? Missed opportunity for some cool shit.

Okay, skipping to character assessments now:

Clint’s character has been mishandled from the beginning and this seemed to be the “better late than never” eleventh hour arc. Except the end of the arc is unclear - it made sense for him to fall apart after losing his Shoehorn Family, but how did Natasha’s choice to fall do anything but fridge someone else, with more agency this time? It makes Natasha noble, which she already was, and it made her win against Clint, which I appreciate, but Natasha didn’t need salvation through death and Clint learns nothing by getting them back, just experiences relief.

Bruce. I want to say, first, that I love Hulk in a Cardigan. Cardihulk can stay. I want fanart, I want t-shirts, give me all of it. But Bruce’s explanation of “I scienced it so I could get the best of both worlds” only gives us half of the acceptance that Banner’s character is already working towards. As we saw most explicitly in Ragnarok, the Hulk isn’t just a physical form, he has his own separate consciousness, originally defined by rage but revealed to be more complicated. Bruce merging into Cardihulk seems to have... erased Hulk’s separate consciousness without merging it into himself? If there had been some acknowledgement of a second voice still within him that shot out opinions or demands for certain menu items in the diner, this would have been a much cleaner end to his arc, which has been equally messy between actor and narrative shifts.

Speaking of Ragnarok... it’s time! Are you ready? Have you read articles about the Gambit Gambit too? Are you fucking depressed that a fat suit was used for comedy gags in the year of our lord 2019? Because I was. The Russos seemed to... not struggle with what progress Ragnarok had put onto Bruce and Thor’s characters, but reject it. This movie’s Thor was anxious for laughs, was desperate for easy answers to a a feeling of lost heroism, and it didn’t feel like a familiar character. The time-travel scene with his mother wrapped it up very elegantly, and was well performed, but that scene didn’t need to follow a series of “chunky drunk in sweatpants” jokes to show us that Thor was struggling. Everyone in the film is fucking holding on by their fingernails, but only one is played for cheap laughs.

At least we get the bisexual Asgard lady king we deserved.

Tony got the right death. He got a hero’s death and Pepper’s last lines of “you can rest now” were exactly the right lines to wrap up an arc characterized by fear and a desire to protect and control at any cost. I knew the MCU was never going to really acknowledge that Tony’s The Problem, even with lines like ‘you should have let me do the fascist robot thing, that was gonna work fine’ thrown around pretty much as soon as he touches down on earth again.

I’m not sure if there’s much to say about Natasha. It was fitting that she was running HQ, that she was struggling, that she was rejecting emotional help from Steve but clearly still close with him. Seeing her break down after hearing the report on Clint felt right after, I think, being told by several directors (or making the personal acting choice? idk) to just be as flat and as decolletagey as possible. And again, while I feel like she would be self-sacrificing on that cliffisde if given the opportunity, and that she would win, the narrative choice to place her there and have that be her end didn’t really give her anything she didn’t already have. She had nothing to prove.

I have a hard time really laying out my thoughts on Steve without launching into the pregnant absence of Bucky, but I’m going to try. Chris Evans did a good job being the emotional heart of a really fractured story with a lot of conflicting pieces. Seeing him lead a talk therapy session after The Snap seemed very out of character for him until one realizes that Sam isn’t there to lead it himself. His scene offering help to Natasha was another good scene between them proving that not every m/f relationship has to be sexual to be interesting or add to the plot. His leadership speech during the Stupid Fucking Slow-Mo Heroes’ Walk to the platform was well done and makes me think of what could have been for the MCU, if they’d ever just let them be a cohesive found-family team for twenty minutes and let them fight some doom-bots or something. Fuck. Imagine.

Something weirdly satisfying about the deceitful ‘hail hydra’ line in the elevator. Yes? Yes.

The hammer scene was satisfying to me without being too gratuitous, but I’ll acknowledge that some people weren’t into it. Having paid more attention to Steve’s arc than most, I’ll argue that he earned it several times over.

His ending - that is, the secret life he alludes to but doesn’t explicitly reveal to Sam - is earned too. I’ve read at least one thing saying that Steve’s arc was all about him learning to let go, but that’s... never what Steve does. Not at the end of any arc, of any comic story, does Steve let go. Not of his principles, not of the people he loves, he is always “Thinking... Thinking About Bucky!” and getting in fights he can’t necessarily win. So I don’t think his final ending is ever Learning to Let Go. I think it’s fair that it’s Just Once, Just This One Time, Getting What You Want And Getting To Enjoy It.

And now I’m backtracking to Bucky. I’ve read one article already that theorizes that Steve’s arc, which was highly prioritized, included literally as little direct interaction with Bucky as possible because... the MCU? the Russos? Marvel?...  is aware that Steve/Bucky is the most popular same-sex ship in the MCU. And that’s tiresome as fuck but I think there’s some truth to it. I wonder if, like in Civil War, we’ll hear later from the actors that a lot of contextual one-on-one scenes were shot and then mysteriously cut from the final edit.

I will say that in my head, Bucky is relaxed when Steve goes back in time for the final time, and lets Sam goes to talk with Steve one-on-one at the bench, because Bucky is not worried if Steve will come back, and does not feel a need to check on Steve on the bench. Because, like Peggy, Bucky has been getting secret visits too. Maybe as far back as during his time in Wakanda, but certainly since the final fight with Thanos. Bucky was calm because he already knew. He didn’t miss Steve because Steve hadn’t given him an opportunity to do so.

d

#mcu #endgame #endgame spoilers #mcu spoilers

[askjaaryl]

Episode 19: “Family Dinner”

S2E11 - The cleanup in Alexandria continues as Rick gets news about his injuries. A family dinner is held.

“Here, let me help you.”

Paul rolled his eyes as Aaron came up, helping him with a larger piece of wood. They were currently inside the ruins of the church, trying to pick out any salvageable parts; they both wore work gloves and only wore t-shirts...normal for Aaron, certainly not normal for Paul.

“Where’s Daryl?” Aaron asked, tossing another half-burnt board into the pile.

“Visiting Rick, before his doctor’s appointment” Paul said, tossing another piece into the pile, slightly more aggressive than before.

“Ah,” Aaron nodded, “I see.”

Paul just rolled his eyes, continuing to work in silence.

“You know I love and support you,” Aaron explained softly, “But what exactly do you want us to do while you go to the Kingdom?”

“Protect the Hilltop, take care of our family,” Paul said softly, “I’ll be okay. I’ve been alone before.”

“But you have us now,” Aaron told him, “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Paul pursed his lips, “And I appreciate that and it’s not going to be forever...just until this blows over. After that, I’ll come back to the Hilltop.”

Aaron stayed silent for a minute before clearing his throat, “Paul...are you happier at the Kingdom?”

“I’m happy at the Hilltop...and that’s not what this is about,” Paul explained, “It’s for the safety of everyone. It’s only a matter of time until they find out I live at the Hilltop.”

“But are you happier at the Kingdom?” Aaron asked quietly.

Paul tossed another board and looked at him, “Why are you asking?”

“I...don’t know,” Aaron said quietly, “I just wanted to know, I guess-”

“If you think I still have feelings for Ezekiel, I don’t,” Paul said bluntly, “Nor do I have feelings for Victor...it’s for you and Daryl-”

“No, I know,” Aaron shook his head, “I don’t think that. I just…” he trailed off and took a deep breath, “We haven’t been apart for this long since we’ve been together. It’s only ever been a few days,” he swallowed, “And I don’t like the idea of you going there alone.”

“I won’t be alone, I have tons of friends at the Kingdom,” Paul said, ducking his head and going back to work, “I’ll be okay. Gracie needs you more than I do, no offence.”

“None taken,” Aaron sighed, leaning on the wall, “This isn’t your fault, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“He’s doing this to get to me,” Paul growled, throwing another board more aggressively than before, causing a small bit of dust to come up, “I know it. I know how he is. I know how he works.”

“Then let’s meet with the council,” Aaron said quickly, “You can just say that...you knew each other before, that’s all they need to know. Knowing how he works, that could give us an upper hand.”

“What do you want me to say?” Paul asked, “That’s he’s a manipulative asshole who gets off on being in control and making others miserable? That’s half the men alive today, trust me.”

“Can we just-” Aaron started.

“We should go check on Daryl,” Paul said, cutting him off, taking his gloves off and shoving them in his pocket, “He wanted us to be there when it was time for Rick’s doctor’s appointment. We should go.”

Aaron sighed and nodded, “Right. Let’s get going.”

Paul stood outside in the makeshift waiting room, his head back against the window the chairs were lined up against.

Getting out of a serious conversation with the excuse of the boyfriend’s brother having a very important doctor’s appointment was a good one. That doesn’t take into account the fact that he currently hated said boyfriend’s brother’s guts.

So now Aaron and Daryl were inside with Rick and he was sitting outside alone.

“Paul, come in here,” Aaron said quickly.

Paul rolled his eyes and got up, walking in. He grabbed Daryl’s hand, smiling up at him, “What’s the verdict?”

“Well, with enough physical therapy they’re thinkin’ I should be able to walk with a cane,” Rick explained, “Good news.”

“Oh, awesome,” Paul smiled, despite it obviously being fake, “Let’s go home.”

Silence.

Aaron nudged Daryl.

Daryl took a deep breath, “Wasn’t right for me to tell you about Paul, but tellin’ Maggie? That was messed up. I-It makes me not wanna trust ya and makes me feel like ya don’t take Paul seriously,” he said quickly, gripping Paul’s hand.

Rick sighed, “It’s somethin’ she needed to know. I considered telling Ezekiel-”

“Ya shouldn’t of considered tellin’ no one!” Daryl snapped, “What the hell, man? You’re my brother. Ya gotta...respect Paul. He’s family too,” he swallowed, “Ya owe ‘im an apology.”

“That’s really...not necessary,” Paul sighed, “I’m going to just-”

“I am sorry,” Rick told him, “I thought it would help us figure these things out...and Daryl is right, I haven’t been fair to you.”

Paul gritted his teeth for a moment, “Thank you, Rick. I’m glad you’re okay. We should-”

“Why don’t you three come over for dinner tonight?” Rick asked, cutting him off, “Bring Lydia with you, Carl will be there. Hell, we’ll have a bonfire.”

Daryl nodded, smiling, “Sounds great. Mind if we stay overnight?”

“Yeah, your house is still open. The only person who was gonna stay there was Enid, so ya’ll should be okay,” Rick nodded, “I’ll let ‘Chonne know, we’ll get somethin’ started.”

“Great,” Paul forced a smile.

“We should talk,” Aaron suggested.

“Can I snag one of your shirts? I didn’t exactly bring clothes for a family barbeque,” Paul asked Daryl.

Daryl threw one of his plaid shirts with the sleeve cut off at him.

“Paul,” Aaron sighed, “We need to talk about you going to the Kingdom alone.”

“Later,” Paul mumbled, “I’m nervous about tonight and I want…�� he trailed off, unbuttoning the first button of Daryl’s shirt as he straddled his lap.

Aaron took a deep breath, “Paul, we’re talking.”

Paul sighed, resting his forehead against Daryl’s and pecking him on the lips before pulling away, “There’s nothing wrong with me going to the Kingdom,” he said, standing up, “I can go alone. I’ve made my way there a ton of times.”

“That’s not the point,” Aaron said, “The point is there’s people out there who are after you specifically. I understand you think this is the safest option and I respect that, but you can’t go alone.”

“I’m more than capable,” Paul deadpanned, sitting down beside Daryl on the edge of the bed, narrowing his eyes.

“I know that,” Aaron explained, “But...Daryl, I think you should go to the Kingdom with Paul.”

“What?” Daryl demanded.

“Yeah,” Aaron said quickly, “I...I need to go back to the Hilltop to be with Gracie, but I think seeing Carol would be good for you. It’s the best option here,” he bit his lip, “I’d feel better knowing someone has Paul’s back-”

Paul went to say something.

“-not that he needs it,” Aaron continued.

Daryl sighed, “What about Lydia?”

“She can come back with me,” Aaron said, smiling weakly, “We should spend some time together anyways.”

Daryl stared at him.

“What?” Aaron sighed, “I’m trying to make the best out of a bad situation while keeping us all safe.”

Daryl huffed, “Ya stress yourself out too much, but if it’ll make ya feel better, I’ll go,” he smirked slightly, “Gotta keep an eye on the king around ‘im anyways. Paul’s cheeks still get red around ‘im.”

Paul tackled him to the bed, hitting him with a pillow.

Aaron sighed, watching them with a fond roll of his eyes.

And he tried to ignore the sinking feeling of dread in his stomach at the idea of being away from them, even if it was what was best for Paul.

Paul sighed, following after Daryl and Aaron as they got to Rick and Michonne’s house. Carl was sitting outside on the porch with Enid and the two looked to be deep in conversation. Aaron walked right inside, but Daryl stopped to talk to the two of them and Paul sighed, waiting with him.

“What’s goin’ on?” Daryl asked Carl, crossing his arms, “Ya’ll been actin’ weird.”

“Let them talk, Daryl, no need to play protective uncle right now,” Paul said, smiling softly and taking Daryl’s hand, “Let’s go inside, give them a little privacy,” he said, giving Enid a wink.

Daryl grumbled to himself, “Whatever,” he said, pulling Paul inside.

Enid mouthed Paul a thank you, watching them go in, before turning back to Carl.

“Did you tell them?” she asked.

Carl nodded, taking deep breath, “Yeah. Dad got back from the med trailer today, Michonne was cooking dinner for tonight...so I just...told them, right there in the kitchen.”

“Were they mad?” Enid winced.

“Yeah,” Carl swallowed, “They said I should have been careful...th-they’re worried about Lydia. But...they’re happy for us, I guess. They’re going to be grandparents, I mean, of course they’re happy. They also want us to stay here, but...I told them Maggie would never let that happen, so they settled.”

“Yeah, they don’t exactly want to piss her off more than she already is at them,” Enid said simply, staring out at Alexandria, “Besides, I prefer Hilltop. It’s where my family is...where Alden is.”

Carl pursed his lips and nodded, looking out at the town as well, ignoring the unknown emotion that was bubbling up in his throat.

Paul sat at the table, between Aaron and Daryl. Lydia was on Daryl’s other side, quiet as they ate in silence, the only sound in the room were forks on plates.

Paul put his free hand on Aaron’s leg, not saying anything.

“When they think you gonna be walkin’?” Daryl asked, breaking the silence.

“Couple months, give or take,” Rick said simply. His face was red, something was going on.

“This is really good,” Enid added awkwardly, holding up a forkful of spaghetti.

“Thanks,” Michonne said stiffly.

More silence.

“Not the only thing that was good, apparently,” Lydia deadpanned, “This is stupid, let’s just say the problem. Put it out there.”

“Lydia,” Daryl grumbled.

“What’s the problem?” Judith asked innocently.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Carl said quickly.

“Yeah, my boyfriend just knocked someone else up,” Lydia snapped, “Makes me feel great.”

“Yeah, because I’m feeling just great about it,” Enid snorted.

“Probably was at the time,”  Lydia snapped, “You were my friend, you bitch-”

“Lydia!” Daryl snapped.

“Maybe we should just go-” Paul started.

“No, shut up, let’s talk,” Lydia snapped, standing up.

“Don’t talk to him like that!” Daryl told her, putting a hand on her arm gently, “Let’s just take  walk.”

“My boyfriend, the only one I’ve ever had or trusted gets someone else pregnant -his ex- and I’m wrong?” Lydia demanded, “Yeah, of course, because I’m just the psycho Whisperer girl!” she yelled before running out.

“Lydia!” Carl stood up.

“You stay here!” Daryl yelled at him before hurrying out of the room.

“I love family dinners,” Paul snorted, mumbling under his breath, “Makes me glad I didn’t have a family.”

“Paul,” Aaron mumbled, sending him a look.

Paul just rolled his eyes before looking up at Rick, “This went well,” he said sarcastically, sending him another fake polite smile, getting a glare in return.

#cs;

[whisker-biscuit]

Harley Quinn is Not A Good Role Model: Chapter 21

Rated T-M for language and graphic descriptions of violence

Pairing: Dr. Flug/Black Hat

Summary: Dr. Flug Slys is a successful psychiatrist working at one of the world’s most respected mental institutes for the criminally insane. But this new patient is unlike anything he’s ever encountered. Flug is determined to help him, nonetheless.

Black Hat has other ideas.

Chapter 21: The Big Day

9:00

Flug and Martin met at 9:00 on the dot, right in front of Dementia’s cell. The intern had his hands in his pockets but it was obvious he was fidgeting with the fabric inside.

“So, we’re actually doing this today. Holy shit,” he whispered in a jitter. “I’m going to prank my boss, holy shit!”

“Okay, easy, d-don’t go announcing it to the neighborhood,” Flug cautioned. He took out his set of keys and unlocked the door as quickly as possible. “This is a just a normal therapy session, on a normal day. Okay?”

That statement was proven wrong – or right, depending on the point of view – when Dementia sprang from their left side and knocked both doctor and intern off their feet. Their clipboards went flying.

“Heyyyyy guys, did you miss me? I missed you! Well actually no, that’s not true, I only missed Flug. I’d say sorry Martin, but I’m not sorry. At all.”

She was sprawled across the floor with her head and shoulders resting easily on Flug’s flattened collarbone. He would have tried to get her off, but he was too busy trying to get the wind back into him.

Martin had fallen too. He sat up quickly, not stuck underneath a hyperactive inmate like his supervisor, and looked between the dogpile in front of him and the still-open door behind them all. The teen shifted closer to Dementia and she stopped talking immediately to glare at him.

The message was clear: don’t touch me. So instead Martin scooted away and closed the cell door with his heel. Dementia went back to rambling as if she’d never stopped.

“So I was thinking a lot last night about us three, and what we’re doing today, you know, and I’ve decided it’s not fair that you guys get all the fun! I mean I already hooked up with my inmate buddy so don’t worry he’s gonna help us out, but am I supposed to just sit here and be the looney girl while you guys are out there having fun? I don’t think I like that at all!”

“Dementia…off, please…” Her doctor patted at her weakly.

“And I know you can’t really let me out without losing your job or whatever, so then last night I was thinking some more and came up with an amazing plan! How about I pretend to escape? Then you guys have alibis cause you’ll be looking for me, and then I can hide somewhere safe, like the vents or something I don’t know, and then we can all meet up at some secret place and then we can go prank that Bautista guy together!”

“Dementia, suéltame, por favor,” he tried again, a little stronger this time.

“Oh, lo siento Flug, I didn’t realize you were dying, hah!” Dementia wiggled backwards so her head was on the ground, pressed against his shoulder. Her hair spilled everywhere.

Martin took this chance to grab ahold of his supervisor’s arm and pull him gently into a sitting position. Flug clutched at his chest as he took long, deep gulps of air. He turned his irritated gaze down to his patient.

“Oooh, you got that scary goggle thing going on again,” she giggled. “I was thinking about that too, you know. How you can get all dark and creepy like that. We should totally use that! Like if we run into a guard or something, I can do my crazy person act and you can just, like, stand there doing that without saying anything! And I don’t know what Martin can do, maybe he can be our hostage? I’ve always wanted to take a hostage, this will be great!”

“I’m not gonna be your hostage,” the intern grumbled.

“Oh don’t be a party pooper, it’ll be fun! You won’t even have to do much, just let me stand right behind you with my teeth at your neck! Fun, right?”

“Why the hell would I think that’s fun? Who even thinks that’s fun?!”

“Of course it’s fun, you just –”

“Did you…were you awake the whole night last night?” Flug cut her off. He stared, concerned, at the impressive dark circles under her eyes.

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous,” Dementia turned her head away from him, mashing one cheek into the padded floor. “You’re just projecting your problems on me.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you’re sleep deprived, Dementia.” He twisted sideways to look at her face again. “Were you just too excited to sleep?”

“That was, that was part of it, yeah…” The inmate trailed off, eyes not meeting her doctor’s. She wilted just a bit.

“Do you want to tell me the other part?”

“I…” She chewed her lip. “I just had a nightmare, is all. It wasn’t that bad. I’m fine.”

“Did you want to talk about it?”

Dementia only looked away, so Flug laid back down so she was on his right side. He gestured for Martin to do the same on his left side. The intern complied, and the three of them stayed there silently for a solid minute before their patient spoke again.

“There were birds.” Her head was hidden by her hair. Flug couldn’t see her expression.

“Birds? Like domestic birds?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dementia turned to look at him. “Someone shot them and it hurt.”

“Hurt you? It hurt you to watch them get shot?”

“It hurt,” she repeated. Her eyes unfocused. “It really hurt.”

“Okay. Okay, I understand. Dreams aren’t fun.” He backed off. “So, I only caught about half of what you were saying earlier, after you tackled me so nicely.”

“Heh, yeah, I should be a football player.”

“But I did catch that you wanted to be let out, and I can tell you right now that’s not gonna happen.”

“What?!” She jolted up. “Why not?”

“First of all, because I would probably lose my job regardless of whether you escaped or I let you out. You’re my patient and the institute doesn’t take that kind of thing lightly. Second, I’m starting to realize that I’m probably not going to do any actual pranking. My office is in the opposite direction of Bautista’s, I’d have no reason to be anywhere near his door.”

Martin sat up at this, and both teenagers stared at Flug in disbelief.

“So, you’re gonna…are you calling it off?” The intern stammered out.

“No I’m not, especially since your friends are still coming and probably have something planned.” He reached up and tugged at his bag. “But I don’t think I’ll really be much help. I had some ideas, sure, but there’s not a way for me to carry them out without getting caught. Or at least without becoming a suspect. I really, really didn’t think this through enough.”

“No, you really didn’t.” Dementia said, bouncing one knee against the floor. “So now what? I can’t call off my buddy either, it’s too short notice. He’ll be pissed and I’ll be out of a favor. That’s gonna suck.”

“You don’t need to call anything off,” Martin declared suddenly. He shrank a little when the other two looked his way. “I mean, your biggest problem is that you can’t do anything directly, right? So just…tell me what you wanted to do. I can relay it to my friends. They’ve probably figured a plan out, they’re really excited for this.”

Flug tapped at one corner of his headwear. “Are you sure? You realize that if someone gets caught, it’ll most likely fall on you. You know that, right?”

“I know,” the intern straightened his back. “But I trust my friends. They’ll figure out a way, they always do, and they won’t rat me out. And besides, I’m really sick of that guy pushing me around. Pushing us around. I can do this.”

They watched him quietly, but Martin locked his jaw and did his best to look more confident than he felt. Dementia was satisfied first, because she snorted and scooted over to him like a snake.

“Congrats, pal, you’re officially a delinquent. Welcome to the delinquent club.”

The psychiatrist continued to stare at his intern. His goggles betrayed no emotion. Then he gave a longsuffering sigh and reached for his forgotten clipboard.

“Well, now that we’ve decided to throw ourselves to the wolves together, how about we get on with this therapy session like normal doctors and patients, yeah? Dementia, was it just the dream that unsettled you or was there anything else keeping you awake?”

….

At the end of the session, Martin trailed behind his supervisor all the way back to Flug’s office. Neither one spoke beyond a few questions and answers about interacting with inmates. At his door, the psychiatrist turned and appraised his intern one more time.

“I’m not kidding about this, you know. Best case scenario if you get caught, you’ll lose this job. Maybe be barred from working here. Worst case is that you get sued. Or arrested on vandalism charges. I really don’t know what else to say.”

“I, I get it.” Martin said, clenching his hands. “But I’m in this all the way, Dr. Slys. I won’t let you down.”

That expressionless look came back over Flug’s face. A closed-off, calculating demeanor that made the teenager shiver for a reason he couldn’t place.

“Alright then. See you in the aftermath.”

Flug disappeared into his office without another word.

.

.

12:00

Martin sat at an open desk in the front lobby and pretended to work on his paperwork. His hand gripped a shaking pen, and he stared down at words that hadn’t made sense for over ten minutes. He couldn’t back out now. The group would be here any minute and he couldn’t back out now.

The front doors opened with a rush of crowd conversations, making the intern jump and nearly snap his pen. He watched as a solid twenty to thirty college students came into the building all at once, abuzz with excitement. There was a professor and a teaching assistant leading them.

Someone in a navy ballcap met Martin’s gaze, his eyes widening in recognition. Martin pursed his lips and shook his head just a little. The last thing he needed was for his coworkers to realize that he knew anyone in the group.

Then three people in institute uniform came out of another door to the right, and stepped up to the tour group with professional smiles. One of them was a woman Martin didn’t know. Another was Dr. Rorschach herself.

The third was Bautista.

“Hello, students of Ituriel University! I’m proud to welcome you here at the Global Psychiatric Medical Center for the Criminally Insane. I’m Dr. Lauren Rorschach, head director of this institute, and…”

Martin zoned out of the director’s speech, choosing instead to scan the crowd for other familiar faces. The one in the navy ballcap – that was Sidney, he realized – had grouped up with four others, who were alternating between staring around the lobby and staring at Martin. He risked tapping the pen to his lips, once, twice, and they got the message quick enough.

Eventually Dr. Rorschach beckoned towards another door, and the tour group followed close behind. Martin waited until everyone was gone before standing up swiftly and gathering his paperwork in his arms. He entered through the same door and kept pace about four meters behind the students, scanning blankly over the top page in his stack and acting all the world like he wasn’t paying attention.

The group turned the corner, but when the intern followed he nearly smacked headfirst into Sidney, who grinned and didn’t say a word. Martin peered over his shoulder and saw that Bautista had stopped the tour in front of his own office door, explaining what was required of the psychiatrists when they weren’t actively working with patients.

Sidney took an easy step backwards, closer to Martin, and his four friends shifted towards the back of the group at the same time. The teenager’s eyes darted to each of them. John, Esmerelda, Abdullah, and Leslie.

“Hey,” Sidney whispered, smile in his greeting. “That’s the guy, right?”

“Yeah, and his office.” Martin whispered back. “My boss said he can’t help you directly. Sorry.”

“Eh, I figured.” The student’s mouth quirked as if he found everything very amusing. “Anything we need to know?”

“You’re visiting a group session at some point, and I’ve got word that someone there’s gonna help you. Don’t know how. Also, my boss said no property damage, he’s worried about vandalism charges.”

“Cool. I’m sure something’ll come up. You better clear out before they see you.”

“Good luck,” Martin said as he swiveled the other way. His four other friends all gave their own smiles or nods, silent as phantoms.

They could do this. He trusted his friends, and Flug trusted him. He just needed to go about his day, and stay away from the tour group, and wait for news. His stomach roiled with stress, but he squashed it down and buried his mouth against his workload. They smelled strongly of paper and ink, and Martin wondered if Flug smelled something similar with the bag over his face.

He shook his head and continued on his way. No one noticed he’d ever been there.

.

.

14:30

The tour was set up to go for nearly four hours. They visited the indoor gym, the outdoor gardens, the medical ward, the empty orientation rooms on the first floor. They stopped for lunch at 13:30 in the staff break room, eating and talking and chattering over the impressive facility.

Abdullah mentioned how the office hallways all led to either the front lobby or the break room, and how interesting that set-up was. Leslie guessed it was probably an easy escape route if an inmate got out and came after anyone. John thought it was dumb, that it was more of a maze than a real floor plan. Esmerelda didn’t say anything.

Sidney just grinned.

At 14:30, Dr. Bautista and his associate came back in and announced that Dr. Rorschach wouldn’t be joining them on the remainder of the tour due to a meeting with another psychiatrist. He then announced that the institute had given them permission to show the students a group arts-and-craft session for less dangerous inmates. It would be starting very soon, so everyone needed to pack up their food and grab their stuff.

The session was held on the second floor, which meant that each student had to have their body scanned for metal objects and their backpacks searched for suspicious items. Nothing could be allowed that might give an inmate a chance for, well, anything.

Over twenty of the students had writing utensils, rulers, and various other sharp objects that couldn’t be taken upstairs, but none of them wanted to leave their bags out in the open, too used to guarding their things from potential thieves on-campus. So the institute staff compromised and took everyone’s stuff back to the break room, which was locked from the outside and safe from harm until the tour came back.

By the time everything was sorted out, it was 15:11 and they were running late to the group session.

Dr. Bautista, thoroughly irritated by the hold up and lack of foresight, hurried the group upstairs to a large room guarded by three men in security outfits. He turned around to address the tour before they went inside.

“I don’t need to remind any of you that being in this room is a privilege. You are all very young, but you’re also psychology students from Ituriel University, which means that I expect you to do exactly as I tell you without argument. Do not interact with any of the inmates unless we explicitly say it is okay. Do not approach an inmate unless we say it is okay. Do not do or say anything in this room, unless we say it is okay. Do I make myself clear?”

There was a various assortment of verbal assent from the students, and Dr. Bautista turned around without acknowledging it. Near the back of the group, Leslie rolled her eyes and whispered, “what a douche”, just quiet enough that the tour leaders in front couldn’t hear it.

Half the students snickered.

Everyone sobered up quickly, however, as they stepped through the doorway. About eight long tables were in the room, lined so that four of them ran parallel to the other four. Inmates sat with simple crafting tools – nothing sharp or hot – and were working quietly amongst themselves. Twelve guards lined the walls.

Dr. Bautista walked up to the nearest table and looked down at the beaded necklace a patient was making. He murmured something to the man, whose face tightened but didn’t stop working. The group watched quietly as their tour leader faced them.

“As you can see, the patients here are very well-behaved. Most of them have either been on the 2nd floor for their entire incarceration, or they have been rehabilitated enough that their privileges extend to having session on this floor. But at any time, that privilege can be revoked. We, as psychiatrists, are here to make sure that these patients will not be a danger to themselves or others, and offering incentive to change is one of our tried-and-true methods of rehabilitation.”

As he spoke, an inmate from two tables down stood up with a jar in his hands. He was a giant, burly man with a bull tattoo visible all the way up his arm. He shuffled in the direction of the group with his head down and eyes on the jar he held.

Esmerelda stiffened where she stood, watching the man. Sidney glanced her way, then coolly set his eyes to Dr. Bautista, whose back was turned to the patient coming their way. None of the guards seemed concerned by the man’s behavior – he looked only as if he was going to refill his art supplies.

But then, less than two meters away from the oblivious psychiatrist, the inmate suddenly took a few giant strides and lifted his jar high above Bautista’s head. Security shouted to warn about the threat but it was too late.

Sparkling pink glitter fell from the upturned container like fairy dust, covering Bautista with a shower from hell. He spluttered and staggered forward as the glitzy stuff got into his eyes and mouth, just in time to miss three guards grabbing at the inmate, who calmly dropped the glitter jar and held his hands above his head.

The other patients burst out laughing as one unit, cheering and whistling at the bizarre sight of a sparkling, stumbling psychiatrist who left a literal trail of pink glitter in the air behind him as he moved. The tour professor looked horrified, and his teaching assistant had clapped a hand to her mouth to keep her snort to herself. The students had no such qualms about hiding their amusement.

Everyone was ushered out of the room and downstairs in a heartbeat by several red-faced guards while the rest tried to sort out the chaos.

Sidney tilted his head to the left as the tour group was pushed back into the staff break room. A guard apologized and asked for patience, and promised that once things were straightened out, then the tour would go on as usual. She pointed to an opposite door – also the same door that led to the staff offices – and reminded them that restrooms were in that direction. The professor followed her out, arguing about wasting valuable time and asking what the head director could possibly be doing that was more important than the pandemonium going on right now.

Soon it was just the students and the teaching assistant, and Sidney tilted his head to the right, catching the eyes of his friends. He smiled with all of his teeth. Someone smirked in reply.

They had work to do.

.

.

15:00

When Flug stepped into Dr. Rorschach’s office, she had already set up the video call on her computer, and was waiting at her desk with her hands folded over a pencil and paper.

“Not one second too late or too early as usual, Doctor. Your dedication to punctuality is amazing.” She said pleasantly, gesturing for him to sit in the chair next to her. He wasted no time in doing so.

Inspector Daniels stared at both of them from the screen. Only his top half was visible, and he wore the same Interpol uniform from the day Flug had met him, back when this entire fiasco had started.

It felt like months ago.

“Dr. Slys,” the Inspector nodded cordially. He glanced down at something unseen, then lifted his gaze back up. “Before we begin, I have to ask if either of you have any cellular devices or anything that can be used to record conversations.”

Flug blinked twice, then pulled out his phone from his coat pocket. Dr. Rorschach brought out two phones and then opened a drawer, out from which came a walkie-talkie. They placed all the tech on the desk.

“Is that everything?” Daniels asked. They both nodded. “Alright. Now I must ask you to turn them all off, please. This meeting is confidential.”

The doctor did so easily, but his boss’ face became pinched.

“With all due respect, Inspector, these devices ensure that my employees can contact me in times of emergencies. I can turn off some of them, not all of them. I have to be available for any situation.”

“I understand your position, Dr. Rorschach,” the inspector said smoothly. “But you also have to understand that, again, this meeting is confidential, and Interpol cannot risk having information leak through. We cannot even have the potential of a leak. I’m sure you realize how dangerous this individual is.”

They stared at each other, with narrowed eyes and set jaws, until Dr. Rorschach relented and switched off all three devices. Daniels made a ‘hmm’ noise and looked down again.

“Are there any audio or visual recording devices set up in this room, such as a security camera?”

“No,” the director said, completely honest. “I don’t believe require staff to have cameras in their personal offices. Nothing is in this room that could compromise or record our conversation.”

“Good, good.” The inspector studied Flug a moment. “How have you been, Dr. Slys? I received your report and was pleased that you hadn’t, ah…sustained any major injuries yet.”

Flug tactfully ignored the tacked on ‘yet’ and sat back in his chair. “I’ve been well, thank you. Progress with the patient has been slow, but so far every encounter has been meaningful, even if it doesn’t appear that way to the naked eye.”

Or to me, he thought, considering how much I’ve been pissing Black Hat off lately.

“I’m aware you were the one who requested this meeting, correct? May I ask why?”

“I was,” Flug considered his words. “I was under the impression that the patient’s collar was a shock collar, from the…way he has reacted sometimes when it beeps. But recently I was in a conversation with a member of our security force who implied that, that Black Hat has…supernatural powers? And that his collar b-blocks it somehow?”

Daniels’ face didn’t change from its stony neutrality, so Flug continued.

“So whatever the case, I – it would help me greatly if I understood exactly what I’m working with. Lowering potential for a leak.”

The inspector remained quiet, and Flug exchanged a confused glance with his director. But as he opened his mouth to ask another question, the Interpol officer cut him off.

“Have you ever seen the aftermath of one of Black Hat’s crimes?”

Flug’s mouth clicked shut. He thought about the report on the last psychiatrist who had tried to work with Black Hat. The visuals made him shudder.

“Yes, I have.”

“I’m not talking about the photos from the case file we sent you, Dr. Slys. I’m asking if you’ve ever seen what happens after that creature decides to go on a rampage.”

“I…no. I haven’t.”

“I thought as much,” Daniels looked at both of them. “Did you know that Black Hat once killed fifteen American SWAT members in less than a minute?”

No, he didn’t know that.

“Are you aware that after he did so, Black Hat then proceeded to phase through the wall of a nearby government building and decapitated five United Nations representatives in a single instant?”

No, he wasn’t aware of that, either.

“Do you know how we know he did it?” The inspector leaned forward. “The SWAT team carried body cameras. That government building contained state of the art surveillance. Everything glitched out in his presence. The only reliable video footage was near the end of the killing spree, when Black Hat reverted to the form you know him as, and the cameras came back online just in time to catch him straightening his tie. Do you want to know how we know he did everything else I mentioned?”

No, no, I don’t want to know. But tell me anyway.

“Because of the blood. The clearing where the SWAT team was stationed looked like the filming site for Saw VII. They were torn apart like nothing we had ever seen before. We know Black Hat phased through the wall because he left a blood trail that couldn’t phase with him, so it left a near-perfect replica of his silhouette against the vertical concrete. We know he killed the UN representatives at the exact same time because our forensics team found matching rates of body cooling and lack of blood coagulation in all five bodies.”

Dr. Rorschach was white. Flug’s hands clenched at his lab coat under the desk.

“I’m not a religious man, Dr. Slys, but I can say openly and honestly that whatever that creature is, it’s not Earthly. That collar around his neck is the only thing keeping him here. Forget the straitjacket, forget the reinforced titanium walls, the guns, the guards. Those are just precautions to keep him at bay as an almost-human thing. Because without that collar, everything else means jack shit.”

“So h-how,” Flug managed, “how does the collar do it?”

“I’ll tell you, both of you, but I need to remind you that what I say in this room stays one hundred percent confidential. Don’t tell security. Don’t tell the other psychiatrists. Don’t tell your friends or family members. No one. The last thing we need is for this science to be replicated by anyone with more dubious morality. Or worse, for Black Hat to learn any more about it than he already knows.”

Flug looked down at the pencil and empty sheet of paper he had brought for this meeting. Slowly, he crumpled it into a ball and dropped it into the waste basket by the desk. Daniels gave him a tight smile.

“Alright then. This collar is state of the art technology. You’ve probably noticed how bulky it is, right? That’s because of its contents. It’s programmed to measure body mass.”

“I’m sorry, what? Body mass?” Flug felt his brow visibly furrow.

“That’s what I said. Down to the picogram. And it’s not like those high school chemistry scales either. It doesn’t get altered by movement, or, say, if someone set an iron ball in Black Hat’s hands. It’s programmed to his body mass only, in as near as accurate as we can get. You see, most people have their own body mass, and it can be altered only with layers of clothing, or changes in weight or height. Black Hat’s body doesn’t adhere to those rules.

“When he shapeshifts, or phases through things, that’s what changes his body mass. It shouldn’t, it goes against almost every physics law we know, but that’s what it does. That collar acts as two things. The part around his neck measures his body mass, and it keeps the thing in place so he can’t jolt it. The bulkier part, in the back? It contains a needle that’s connected directly to his spinal cord.”

“What?! Isn’t that, doesn’t that violate his rights?”

“That creature doesn’t have rights.” Daniels replied, eyes grim. “He doesn’t have an age or origin we can track, he holds no citizenship that we know of, and any rights he might have been able to claim have been tossed out the window for decades now, with his criminal record.”

“This is insane,” Flug said aloud, slumping in his seat. “This is absolutely insane. Shit…”

“I’m going to continue, if you don’t mind.” The inspector didn’t wait for their confirmation. “As I said, it’s connected into his spinal cord at the base of his neck. If and when the collar recognizes a change in body mass, no matter how small, that needle is automatically plunged deeper, which cuts off his ability to move or feel most of his body. It usually only lasts about ten seconds, but we know from experience that if need be, the paralysis effect can stay upwards of six hours.”

Flug grit his teeth. “So, d-did you just provoke him into trying to attack you after the ten seconds were up?”  

“No, of course not,” Daniels looked mildly smug. “We have a remote device that can increase the time span of how long the needle remains injected.”

“If that’s the case, why didn’t you use it during his transfer to this institute?” Dr. Rorschach asked coldly. “If I recall, one Interpol officer’s life was at stake in a confrontation between you and Black Hat. Not to mention, letting Dr. Slys walk into his cell without this device to back him up seems extremely negligent.”

“It was your decision to allow Dr. Slys to do so, Dr. Rorschach.” The inspector replied, eyes narrowed. “In fact, you assured me he was well equipped to handle this creature. If anyone can be accused of negligence, it would be you and your institute, wouldn’t you say?”

“You still haven’t answered either of my questions, Inspector.”

Daniels sighed. “I was worried Black Hat would kill someone, to be frank. The last time we used this device, it was simply to test that it worked, and after the trial was over Black Hat went into a frenzied rage, without setting off the collar, that killed three soldiers. It was by this we learned that the only way the device worked was if Black Hat had already set off the collar on his own. Our scientists are still trying to fix this issue, but we think it might be related to the effect he has on technology in general, especially radio waves and cameras.”

Dr. Rorschach and Inspector Daniels continued discussing this problem, and what could be done to fix it, but Flug had stopped listening. Because he was still hung up on that little detail about being stripped of your free will for six hours.

No wonder he didn’t want to talk about it, the psychiatrist realized. What a horrible, humiliating thing to have to deal with every day. I’d be pissed too.

He looked over to his boss, who was still arguing with the inspector that having the defective remote was better than having nothing at all. Flug didn’t really care either way; he had gotten this far without getting mauled, he’d be fine for a while longer. And the idea of having such a twisted little thing in his pocket when he visited Black Hat was making him feel sick.

“Excuse me? Inspector Daniels?” The doctor asked, getting the attention of both superiors. “You, uh, mentioned that Black Hat doesn’t know everything about the collar. How much does he know?”

“Not enough to be dangerous,” Daniels said. “He knows that it’s a restraining device, and he knows about the needle because he can feel it in his spine. I have no doubt he’s figured out that it’s related to activating his powers, although we never explained that to him. And I’m almost certain he doesn’t know about the remote control’s restrictions. We’re very lucky that Black Hat has never been well-versed in technology.”

Flug’s hands twitched. “Thank you, Inspector. I’ll be sure to u-use this knowledge carefully and to the best of my ability from now on. I’m afraid I have other things to attend to today. Is there anything else you needed to tell me?”

Daniels shook his head, and Flug thanked him again before getting up on unsteady feet. Dr. Rorschach stared up at him, obvious protest in her face, but he just shook his head.

“I’m sorry for leaving so soon, but I think there’s not much more I can learn from this meeting. If you come to a decision about me receiving the controller, then please let me know when you can.”

“Actually,” the inspector said, looking down again. “My time is about up for now as well. Dr. Rorschach, I feel that you and I can continue this conversation at a later date. You seem to have things handled well over there, and your psychiatrist doesn’t appear concerned. I’ll bid you both adieu. Dr. Rorschach, Dr. Slys.”

With that, Daniels cut the transmission and left Lauren fuming and Flug in deceptive silence. Without a word both of them turned on their phones again, and the director made a surprised noise that had her employee look her way.

“What’s the matter?”

“There’s been a situation on the 2nd floor, come with me.”

So he went with her, and stayed quiet as she called someone while they walked.

“This is Dr. Rorschach, I just finished with my meeting, what’s – what? Slow down! Bautista was attacked by an inmate?”

That had both of them halting in their tracks. Flug stood awkwardly as his boss listened to a voice he couldn’t make out. Then she snapped “I’ll be right there” and hung up the phone.

“What’s going on? What happened?”

“An inmate assaulted Dr. Bautista during the university tour, and they’ve been trying to get ahold of me for over half an hour. Supposedly it was Inmate #244, real name unknown, alias Metauro. He dropped a ‘glitter bomb’ on our coworker while he was showing the arts and craft room to the tour group.”

“O-Oh? That’s b-bizarre.”

“It’s about to get more bizarre, because while he went home to change, someone wrecked his office.”

Flug tripped on air and nearly faceplanted. “I’m sorry, wrecked his office?!”

“That’s what I’ve been told. Security hasn’t figured out who did it yet.” Dr. Rorschach’s heels clicked on the flooring with urgency. “They think it might have been some of the students, but haven’t found any evidence yet.”

“Ah, okay, uh…why am I coming?”

“Because you have an amazing eye for detail, Doctor, so you’re going to help security comb through the wreckage while I talk to people.”

Too soon they were at Bautista’s open door, where several guards were standing, taking pictures and arguing with each other about being lax on security. Everyone stepped to attention when they saw the head director.

“Dr. Slys, do whatever you need in here. Take pictures, ask around, anything. Try not to disturb the scene too much but otherwise I’m giving you free reign until I can find our chief of security.” She peered into the room and her face went carefully blank.

“What? Is it bad?” Flug was really, really hoping it wasn’t too bad.

“Huh,” Dr. Rorschach said. “Well, now I know why they think it was the students.”

She turned around and grabbed the nearest guard, dragging him with her in whatever direction the students were in. Flug headed to Bautista’s door and was very grateful that the noise he made sounded like shock.

The office wasn’t wrecked as he’d feared. Instead, blank lined paper balls covered the floor, leaving no trace of carpet anywhere. A lamp near the left corner had its shade switched out with the waste basket. A bookshelf on the right had its contents rearranged so that the first letters of several titles spelled out the word ‘asshole’ in a more subtle but still noticeable message.

The window was filled with sharpie penises and the Cool S, making it extremely difficult to see in or out. The computer had been covered by the waste basket’s liner. There was a single piece of paper on the desk with something written on it, so Flug waded into the room to look at it.

Beautiful Bautista Bastard

Underneath that was a rushed sketch of a tall man wearing a tutu, with fairy wings and a glowing wand. Small penciled dots littered the page behind the mand and the doctor snorted as he realized it was supposed to represent fairy dust. Or whatever that ‘glitter bomb’ had been.

Without blinking, Flug took his phone out and held down the camera button. He panned around the office from the left to the right, making sure to catch everything. His boss had told him to take pictures, so he was taking pictures.

She’d never said he couldn’t keep them. She’d also never said he couldn’t show them to two certain someones.

Really, he was just doing his duty.

.

.

.

(And maybe Black Hat would have some input to give as well)

Heyyy it's out! Sorry for the delay, this was a doozy of a chapter and some of the scenes weren't coming out like I wanted them to. I hope you all enjoy this update, because there are some important info drops here. Sounds like Flug is more concerned about Black Hat's rights than his own safety, hmhmhm.

#villainous #villainous au #asylum au #dr flug #black hat #demencia #paperhat

[lovecanbesostrange]

Why do I even watch a Grey’s Anatomy finale when it’s out. S14 ended on such a no-disaster note that S15 had to be terrible cliffhanger upon terrible cliffhanger. Months and months of painful waiting start now. omg

I just disliked the very horrible fight Jackson and Maggie had. Some interesting points for sure, because of their different upbringing and development. But well, we’ve been through the whole different class thing with Jackson and April already and apart from a few comments Maggie dealt fine with it (it was funny way back when discovering she had a summer job where he vacationed and all, weird how this is biting them in the ass). His spiritual awakening at the start of the season works well with dragging Maggie out of her comfort zone by taking her camping. It’s a good contrast, because you can’t force someone to enjoy something. But then they got to their car and the fog came and I yelled at my screen DON’T YOU DARE. And then Jackson left the car... in an angry/frustrated emotional state... with a tiny flashlight.... while the episode started with a car pile up.......... DON’T YOU DARE have one of them fall into a ditch now or get run over or what not....... (in a parallel universe they are both now in Silent Hill facing their inner demons, oops). Great, a summer full of worrying.

It is 100% in character for Bailey blurting out that “you’re fired”. She would’ve fired Izzie way back with the LVAD (thanks for mentioning it, I laughed when Meredith said this was her first strike, because no, you’ve just been getting away with stuff like all of you for quite some time now). She was so pissed at Meredith for ruining Derek’s trial. She was ready to fire her own husband, when he spaced out and made a bad call. Bailey is not here to be Spartacus’d, you should’ve seen that coming. And Catherine is just so done. (Also throwing money at the problem by putting the bill on the foundation, lol. Fucking money.)

Well, will Grey’s tackle the whole bullshit health insurance system next season? Will Meredith get a huge speech about why she did what she did and how that was about saving a life without bankrupting a poor person? ????????? Anyway, so I guess DeLuca is the one of the four who is mostly of the hook? Except somebody could hold his false confession against him now? Seeing Meredith with her three kids, saying goodbye for a while... (this was so fast, she didn’t even change her clothes and DeLuca is already booked in a jumpsuit, while Maggie is lost in the woods... Amelia will have to take care of the kids, holy crap... guess Alex can move into the house for a while...)

Oh Alex, watching a woman he loves committing herself into the psych ward. I am so glad Jo is doing this and Bailey is absolutely right, she is depressed, she will get help, this is a good thing. But like, how often can Alex do this in one lifetime? Of course he is afraid. (Even Lexie had a mental breakdown after the shooting and I know that doesn’t exactly count, because they broke up, but it’s such a theme with him.) Anyway, it’s good to see Grey’s taking depression seriously. I still think they dropped the ball with Arizona back in S9 after she lost her leg. Like they weren’t sure how to tackle the whole situation. Jo can get the help she needs now. Liked her scenes and that realization that fixing other people is easier than fixing yourself.

I feel bad for Tom now. He’s so happy building the nursery and all. And there is Owen with Teddy, declaring his love and... well... I was all for Owen and Teddy eventually getting back together, but Owen was so horrible this season (especially the apartment-party-fire-episode, going after Tom like that)... it’s so great that his issues get addressed and he’s doing therapy and I’m totally here for his better side winning (because Owen can be such a good person), but... the overdrama of it all........ But hey, if I can get a real friendship between Teddy and Amelia going, that would be amazing! Amelia for MVP for sure. Her talk with Link was excellent as well. AND SHE DOESN’T KNOW THE DRAMA HER SISTERS ARE IN! (Her sisters in heart, not by blood. pfffffff)

Oh right, we met Schmitt’s mom! And he came out to her! And she for sure has things to say, but she’s gonna do that later and she treated Nico with kindness. AMAZING!!!

A bit sad we didn’t get to see Helm or Parker. I don’t follow any casting news, but I wouldn’t be surprised coming back next season and at least one of the interns is just gone. :( Well, at least nobody died. RIGHT NOW.

Gus is alive!!

#Grey's Anatomy #my heart can't take this aaaaaaaaa

[twicetolivetwicetodie]

4x21: Harry and the Harrisons

I’m gonna start with the completely shallow thing that I enjoyed about this episode: Two shirtless Barry scenes! I’ve been so deprived, and I feel so blessed to see shirtless Barry again. 

Iris’s article. Wow. I am so happy she did this, and to see her so passionate about her research (that was really thorough research too I’m impressed!), and to use her skills as a journalist to help take down DeVoe was just really great to see. I loved how Iris and Barry’s story this episode intertwined this episode. They both had opposing viewpoints on whether or not the public should be told about what DeVoe has planned, but they were able to come to an agreement as a couple in a healthy manner. Iris’s reasoning is solid. Why shouldn’t the public be aware of what they’re up against? This is a plan that will affect the entire world and they should be prepared for it. Though I do understand Barry’s apprehension. He’s not sure if the whole city will believe them about DeVoe, and he may still feel a little self conscious seeing as half the city still thinks he’s a murderer. I loved the scene where Barry is like “Well maybe we should wait til you finish the article to show the team.” “Okay, great! I’m gonna hurry up and finish it then!” Iris’s determination and drive is so admirable. I love it. Another line that was great regarding this arc was “Now it’s time for the Flash to put his faith in the people.” That was such a good line, and I hope Iris getting back into journalism to help take down big bads is a recurring thing from now on, in addition to us getting to know the citizens of Central better. We got a pretty big response to her article and a lot of Central willing to help. My one question is (this may just be a plot hole, but I’m willing to think otherwise until proven) is the one response about a guy saying he saw DeVoe somewhere. So do most people believe DeVoe is alive now, and it’s just the government that think it’s a conspiracy? (cause that’s pretty accurate, actually). 

Harry’s arc was super touching. I always love seeing the more ridiculous Harrison Wells’s they come up with it, and as usual they did not disappoint. Sonny Wells was great. And HP Wells writes poetry about bread oh my god. And can we address how Cisco called that particular poem saucy? Anyway, moving on. I have to applaud the show for continuing to show therapy as a positive experience that you can grow from, cause that’s essentially what this was. Group therapy with alternate versions of himself. It’s a nice breath of fresh air from the initial therapy episode that was written off as a joke. I think this will be a great development for Harry. Yes, he’s always prided himself in his intelligence, to the point he completely defined himself by it. Him learning like Cecile said, that there are other ways to be intelligent, not just book smarts, and learning emotional intelligence, is gonna be a great way to beat the Thinker. Harry coming to grasps with that allowed him to identify that DeVoe wasn’t currently acting because Marlize left him. I love his and Cisco’s scenes together as usual, and Cisco hoping what Harry learned after talking to the Council of Harrisons would allow him to open up to Cisco more, but things take time so I of course wasn’t surprised that Harry said “oh yeah this is completely about DeVoe.” Keep telling yourself that, Harry. I loved his line after he determined that “That took a lot out of me. I’m gonna go take a nap.” I relate so much? I mean I’m exhausted after some therapy sessions depending on the topic so I totally get that. 

Caitlin frustrated me in this episode. I get that she’s not the only one that has hid things from the team, but her reasons were entirely self serving. She wants her powers back for her. Yes, I don’t deny that she does want them back to help the team, but that is secondary. I can’t ignore the obvious parallels they were making between Caitlin and Amunet this episode. Amunet is completely self-serving, only looking out for herself. Caitlin’s actions in this episode really paralleled that, and her defending Amunet after she fucking tried to sell Barry does not sit well in my books. These current decisions and Caitlin potentially losing herself to Killer Frost again makes me think they are heading down a villain/anti-hero arc for her, and I’d definitely be behind that. Ideally, I’d like to see Frost and Caitlin merge into a single personality, which would result in a morally grey Caitlin. Which I would prefer cause then we could get some cohesion between both characters. I do like that she’s getting more scenes with Joe. That’s a teamup that hasn’t been done in the past that much, so seeing them work together again was nice to see.  Sidenote: I don’t hate Caitlin, I’m just frustrated with her at the moment. 

yeah so I need to talk about the scene with Amunet and Barry when she first came into the cortex. She is eyeing Barry like he’s not human. She is very obviously sizing him up like he’s prized pig she’s gonna buy from the market, and it made me very uncomfortable (which was most definitely the intent). Barry’s restrained anger at being in the same room as her was very well done. He’s probably seething that he can’t save the metas she’s already sold at the moment cause they have to beat DeVoe before they can even begin tackling that problem. 

I love that we’re getting to see more of Central as a community as of late. We got the hippie community in the forest in 4x18, and now we get to see more of Central City’s underground in this ep. Is there a meta underground? Cause that’s the impression I got from the first ep CC’s underground showed up, and that concept is fascinating and should be explored more. I have to comment on Norvak and how fucking gross his power is? He reminds me of an X-Men villain because of how weird his power is. He’s really the only meta we’ve seen other than King Shark who has a physical manifestation of his power. I’m really curious about this. How common is that? Is it more common than we think? I think if they delve into the science of the metagene they could help explain that. 

I am both excited and scared about next episode. I’m excited cause we’ll get a lot of action and Diggle guest starring, but also DeVoe causing major damage as he starts to act on his plan. Though Iris’s article did make Central aware of the impending danger, I also think it will prompt DeVoe to speed up the timetable of his plan. I am curious to see how ARGUS reacts to a fullscale attack by him. It will be sad, but I think Fallout will end up dying in this ep. I’m excited to see Diggle interact with Barry again, and perhaps he can impart some of that trademark Diggle wisdom? Something that scares me about the ep is the theory (that I’m completely buying into cause it makes so much sense) is the scene of Iris and Barry with Iris saying “What are you willing to do for the world.” is actually DeVoe shapeshifted into Iris. That sounds like something DeVoe would say and that is totally fucked up that DeVoe took the form of his wife to fuck with him, and possibly do something bad to him! As far as the finale goes, I think DeVoe will succeed in turning the machine on, and the team will have to race to turn it off before it effects the entire world. This would in turn affect a significant amount of people though, which is why I think what DeVoe does in the finale will lead to the anti-meta arc, especially considering he’s attacking an ARGUS facility next ep and ARGUS is directly involved with the anti-meta movement. 

#the flash #the flash 4x21 #harry and the harrisons #episode thoughts #barry allen #iris west allen #caitlin snow #cisco ramon #e2 harrison wells #joe west #clifford devoe #amunet black #vibe #killer frost #the thinker

[biohackerblogger-blog]

Want to get ahead in life and live forever? Biohack your brain and body today!!

Welcome back reader. My previous blog discussed what biohacking is and some aspects of human biology that can be tweaked to great returns. Biohacking is basically tweaking your biology to improve your life.

In my self-improvement adventures I use scientific research to justify whatever changes I make to my lifestyle whenever I can. If the science says something shows promise in improving x, y and z—I test it out for myself and if it works, I keep it. I’ve found that Reddit, the popular discussion platform, is a great place to find aggregations of links to relevant literature and is in of itself a repository of anecdotal evidence.

As promised, I’m going to be going more in-depth into my personal biohacking experience in this article, talking about the specific improvements I’ve made to better myself and the scientific justifications behind them.

Supplementation

My primary goal mentioned in my previous blog was optimising cognition. Supplementation seemed like a good way to tackle this issue.

To begin, I started with the basics. Well-researched, basic micronutrients that many people lack in their diets and provide clearly defined improvements. I went to the lab near my house and got bloodwork done, testing for everything (Thank you Belgian insurance).

Omega 3/6 Fatty Acids

These are one of the most well-researched, beneficial classes of molecules that are lacking in our diets today. Alpha-linolenic acid (ALA), found in plant oils such as flaxseed and canola, is an essential fatty acid—meaning your body cannot synthesize it independently so it needs to come from your diet. Eicosapentaenoic acid (EPA), and docosahexaenoic acid (DHA) (found in fish) can be produced by conversion of ALA but in minimal amounts—so practically you’re better off getting these from your diet/supplement also.

Omega acids are a critical component of the membranes that make up the surface of each of your cells. They regulate the fluidity of these membranes, the signaling between cells and also maintain cell structure. They’re also involved blood pressure maintenance, the nervous system, regulating inflammation and have been linked to the prevention of alzheimer's (so cognitive benefits too). This study goes more in depth as to the physical benefits these molecules provide.

People don’t eat enough fish especially in western diets to get enough of these on a daily basis so I would strongly recommend a supplement—this is the one I get. The ratio between the amount of omega-3 to omega-6 is also important and is discussed in this study.

Vitamin D

Our skin produces its own vitamin D when exposed to sunlight regularly. A problem with living in a northern country like England is that there’s not a whole lot of sunlight to go around. This isn’t helped by the fact that we’re not naked cavemen anymore who stand outside all day in the sun. Vitamin D is important for calcium absorption into the bones which is why a deficiency can cause malformations such as rickets. Deficiencies can also cause depressive symptoms and exacerbate mental health issues. Decreased sunlight during winter can also increase the incidence in a temporary depressive disorder known as seasonal affective disorder (also known as SAD—ironic, I know). Light therapy has proven an effective way of increasing vitamin D and treating SAD.

I take it on the reg to stave off the winter blues as a supplement-if I’m happier my brain is happier too. When possible, Vit D from sunlight is a much better source than from a supplement. This is the one I take.

Vitamin B complex

B vitamins consist of 8 different vitamins. B12 is likely the most well known and is involved in neurological function and production of DNA. B9 regulates cell division and formation of blood cells. Each vitamin has specific roles in the body that a deficiency could significantly interfere with. Natural sources are typically animal products and high protein plants.

You can conveniently get supplements that contain all 8 in one which simplifies things immensely. They have been linked to reduction of stress, anxiety and depression and I thought that would be of use to me. I take this one.

Zinc, Magnesium, Calcium and others

Each mineral has a different purpose when it comes to human health but all are important. Zinc plays roles in immune function, DNA synthesis, inflammation and much more. It also boosts testosterone, a hormone providing many health benefits for men (and some for women) that I touched upon in the previous article.

Magnesium can significantly improve your sleep if you get enough of it (and good sleep just improves everything) and calcium is important for bone health. These are all very important micronutrients so make sure you’re getting enough in your diet or supplement them.

Probiotics

You know those icky bacteria lining every inch of your body and intestines? What if I told you that they actually affect your life a whole lot more than you think—Especially your mood.

Research into the gut microbiota (community of microorganisms in the gut) is an incredibly hot topic right now. The presence or lack thereof of certain bacteria in the gut can affect your digestion, risk of developing diseases, even your position on the autism spectrum. It sounds crazy but the research is substantial. Many digestive problems and others can be solved by rectifying the ratios of different bacteria in the gut, by introducing healthy bacteria. I’ve tagged along to a couple of conferences with my psychiatrist mother discussing the interaction between the gut microbiota and health (physical and mental) and have also had several assignments on the topic during my time at university.

I now take a probiotic supplement every morning. Probiotics are basically pills containing millions of live, healthy bacteria.

Creatine

This one maybe isn’t as important for most people but I’ll mention it because it’s part of my daily regime. It’s a very well-researched supplement used by athletes to increase performance by increasing water retention in the muscles. With the added benefit of making your muscles look bigger, creatine can improve strength and endurance during sport. I take it to improve my workouts which itself benefits my life. Optimum Nutrition has some really good products, I go with them. Here’s another review article if you’re interested.

Other cognition-enhancing compounds

(I’m not recommending anyone take any of the following as I am not qualified to be giving out advice on scarcely researched compounds but hey, if you do your own digging, decide the science is sound and there’s no risk, you do you.)

Described above are the supplements I use to benefit my life currently. They are all well-researched staples with plenty of studies to support their efficacy. There are, however, less researched compounds that could be potentially beneficial that are hidden from the public eye.

There exist a number of alternative medicines like St. John’s Wort to treat depression that can have beneficial effects on health. Some medicines are alternative for a reason, we don’t really know enough about them to know how they work but we just know that they do for the most part.

Withania somnifera (Ashawagandha) is a herb that reduces stress and has anxiolytic (anxiety reducing) properties by reducing cortisol, the stress hormone. It’s also implicated in helping with neurodegenerative diseases such as Parkinson's, Huntington's and Alzeimer's disease but more large scale studies are needed to prove it’s therapeutic potential. Lion’s mane mushroom is another cool one thought to also help with cognition that I’ve been looking into recently

Nootropics (cognition enhancing compounds) are quite popular in the biohacking community. Many people take so-called “stacks” of supplements that synergize and work well together. A simple example of a stack would be taking L-theanine and caffeine, (caffeine is the most well-known nootropic) where the caffeine works to give you energy and the L-theanine smooths out the “edge” of caffeine, eliminating the crash you get.

This is gonna be an iffy one to talk about in a uni assignment but I already gave my disclaimer at the top of this section. Microdosing is an increasingly popular trend popularized by big innovators such as Steve Jobs and Bill Gates—It involves taking sub-perceptual doses of psychoactive compounds.

Psychedelics such as LSD and MDMA have become very hot topics of research particularly in the psychiatric field. There is an increasing amount of evidence to suggest their utility in treating addiction, depression and anxiety when paired with psychotherapy. Psychedelics have a very impressive safety profile despite the bad rep they get.

David Nutt, a prominent researcher into the field collated the answers of a panel of experts (from law enforcement to doctors) to attempt to objectively rank common drugs in terms of addictive potential and harm. LSD and Ecstasy are significantly less harmful than the legal substances tobacco and alcohol. The 2017 Global Drug Survey also supports this claim.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some risks to psychedelics if used irresponsibly (such as triggering the onset of schizophrenia in those genetically predisposed to it) but overall, they have untapped potential in research as they significantly increase brain plasticity (ability of brain to adapt and change) and connectivity of neural networks. Microdosing them can increase productivity/creativity and allow the formation of novel neural pathways (which is probs why they help with addiction). I was actually considering psychedelic research as a career path as lots of big names like John Hopkins University are heavily involved in research into the field.

Anyway, some may say that all these supplements are a bit excessive, and maybe they’re right. But I say eh, works for me.

Habits and Lifestyle changes

I discussed the benefits of meditation in my last blog already but that is a very useful meta-tool for improving on all aspects of life. There are small ways we can all change our environments to improve our lives depending on our goals.

Procrastination in particular is a huge issue that many people face, students in particular. Many people struggle to understand why we do this but they aren’t aware that our biology isn’t designed to be able to cope with the huge amounts of stimuli that have arisen from the invention of the internet and social media. It’s now well-known that willpower functions similarly to a muscle—we don’t have an unlimited supply of it, it can get tired. What we can do to get around that is reduce the need to strain that muscle by changing our environment.

I’ve personally deleted all forms of social media I’ve found to not contribute anything meaningful to my life and with the rest I’ve unfollowed/unsubscribed to anything I thought would distract me too much. When studying, I use earplugs to block out as much stimuli as possible and I keep my phone off for most of the time.

This is what my phone’s home screen looks like:      

Simple, practical, not distracting. All the distracting applications like social media are kept on a different screen so I have to put in more effort to get to them. My phone’s also in greyscale but the screenshot doesn’t pick that up. Greyscale removes all the bright colors from your phone screen, significantly reducing the addictive potential of your phone. If you find yourself checking your phone too often, this might help you out.

This article from lifehacker talks about it in more detail. Many phone manufacturers have rolled out updates to help people curb their screen time, adding options to put time limits on your apps and overall screen time.

These are only some of the small changes I’ve implemented.There’s plenty of things you could be doing to make your environment facilitate your goals, you just have to be a bit creative.

That's pretty much an overview of my personal experience with biohacking. I hope you found this interesting and informative and it inspired you in some shape or form to read into science more and improve your life in every way you can.

Thanks for reading,

Alex

Stock images all courtesy of google images

Supplements:

Omega acids -

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B004MASMXG/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_asin_title_o06_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1

Vitamin D -

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B072L235Z5/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_asin_title_o09_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1

Vitamin B Complex -

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00Z70OUQS/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_asin_title_o06_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1

[mavwren]

Post it Forward Week Three

Okay so I planned on doing this earlier in the week, but this is one of the more tricky prompts for me (Magi) to tackle because I’ve found that people who talk a lot about ‘their mental illnesses’ can tend to be assholes, and that in my case it’s mostly about depression and neglect so it can be kind of  a downer. I personally don’t like making people feel bad, so the idea of this possibly reaching a lot of people was what made me take so long to do it, but hey here it goes...

So as I think I’ve off-handily mentioned before, I suffer from ADHD inattentive and inherited psychotic depression, as well as anxiety and panic and possibly some form of learning disorder but I haven’t been tested so I’m not gonna say anything for certain. Also an abusive and over achieving younger sister. Anyway this all went undiagnosed and ignored until I was eleven, which may surprise some people (especially when I was very vocal about seeing things that weren’t there ‘cause that isn’t normal in any respect) so let me explain.

In elementary school it was very obvious that I had some kind of attention problem as I was scolded and given the exact same talk every year about how I need to try harder or I was going to become a failure and a disappointment. By both my parents, and my teachers. Yeah, the teachers said that to me. Every year. They’d pull me out into the hall during class work time or whatever and when I went back into the room I’d be in tears. And with the area I lived in I had the same classmates until I graduated highschool (except for the three years that I lived in Hawaii o’course), so they quickly made sure that no one else in our class ever saw them with me. This didn’t help. Because I now knew for sure that no one liked or believed I was worth their time. So I was forever labeled as ‘that weird quiet girl who never does her work’. Which honestly wasn’t even the worst thing, seeing as how I’m kinda a better person than most of them post highschool, which I know sounds like I’m the asshole, but anyone who graduated with me remembers the guy who got booed at graduation practice (and at the actual graduation).

No the worst thing about my time in elementary, (and my first year of middle school) was the fact that I was punished from a very visible disability. One of these days I’ll tell the story about my desk, but this post is already going to be pretty long as it is so I’ll just use the classic examples instead. Along with the annual talk about what a disappointment I was, there were also the vary obvious ‘watching you specifically because you’re a problem’ glares from across the room, taking away recess time, scolding me in front of the class for doodling during notes, banning me from drawing all together, and then making sure I wasn’t drawing by checking over my shoulder, calling me out for not handing in my homework- again directly in front of the other students, and just the general ‘not going to let you out of my sight because I don’t trust you at all’.

You’d think my parents would be a little more curious about all of that, but nope. They went and did the same thing as the teachers and brushed it off as a greedy child wanting attention, with a dash of ‘she’s just an idiot’ tossed in until halfway through 6th grade. So they went ahead and punished me too, not letting me play outside with our neighbors, putting me in places where I couldn’t see the TV and making me do my homework until dinner, and then instructing my daycare (it’s a military town so they do a before and after school program) to not let me do anything until they had checked all of my work. So now the kids there (that were from schools all over town) also knew not to play with me.

Now despite the way my mother likes to tell this story where she’s the one that notices the problem, that’s just not how it happened. I freaked out the teachers, my school counselor, and the school’s nurse in Hawaii. That’s how it happened. The counselor had me fill out a form and established that there was clearly a problem, so my mom took me to see a therapist and I was officially tested where it was established that I had ADHD inattentive, and depression. However looking back, those results were a little skewed because I didn’t know that I had seen hallucinations, thanks to my parents saying that they were just an overactive imagination. Anyway, that was the start of my treatment for my variety of issues. With the results we were able to also get testing done at Tripler, which was where I then got my medications from for my ADHD.

So fast forward 2 years and for whatever reason we stop seeing my therapist, but there’s no real drama.

Fast forward another year and well, we’re back in NC. And my highschool in Hawaii takes a whole fucking school year to fax my 504 plan to my new highschool. I had to text my friend in Hawaii to go ask the people in the office what was taking so long. I’m not even 100% sure it got there, because the school had me redo all of my testing again. I was then switched from 504 to IEP, which is basically a special ed program, but with a wider reach and honestly much more fun. 

Now this is when me and my mom agree that my medications are doing more harm than good to me, and my psych guy goes ‘nah it’s supposed to do that’ and we were just like ‘nah fuck you’ and left that clinic, so went without meds or therapy until I started college. Not because there was no where else to go or we thought I was cured or something, it just didn’t seem to be very helpful anymore. Plus they assigned me to a child therapist (like a small child therapist) and I was just like ‘bitch I am not a five year old stop talking to me like I am’

So how did a mentally unstable teenager make it through highschool in one piece? By being an arts nerd. No stay with me- I was a visual art kid so I was in the visual arts homeroom (with a teacher who had no connection to art in any form but was coincidentally the lady in charge of students with disabilities and generally just a bad ass bitch) but I was also a band geek. I actually would sign up for art classes to keep my homeroom, then switch them to band classes like only a few days in. Because I hate art classes

I’ll make a post later about the actual benefits of band- and marching band in particular but it’s kinda off topic for this one

Anyway I made it through highschool, was super hyped and ready for whatever laid ahead- 

then I started community college

and watched my world slowly crumble to bits around me because I couldn’t do anything. I had never felt that low. Which is really saying something. So I begged my mom to look for a new therapy place (even asked if I could have a service dog at one point and was told I was over exaggerating) and it took her two months to actually humor me. But you bet when I said one positive thing about birth control she set up an appointment for me in less than a week. Thanks stereotypes about women’s hormones. Guess what though! It wasn’t hormones.

I ended up with a social worker as my therapist, and I can say with complete certainty that there is a definite difference when it comes to the age that you receive treatment because  after you turn 18 it isn’t about what your parents want, it’s what you want.

I am now receiving medication from the most qualified person in the district, attend therapy regularly and am just in such a better state of being than I was before.

My doctor often asks me if I feel happy like I used to, but because of my situation, I wasn’t ever not effected by my depression. But now, I know what it’s like to live my life without worrying about the world and the people around me like I used to. I’ve learned that it’s okay to be proud of yourself, it’s okay to be honest with people, it’s okay to care about your own life. It’s okay. I’m okay.

And I guess that’s my story about my mental health. If you have any questions for me, or whatever, our ask box is open. Yellow knows a lot about psych stuff, and her mom was the one that hooked me up with the recommendation on my current clinic. Or if you’d like just me to see it, or just want someone to talk to, I have a side/art blog that you’re free to message. ( @punkrockstrawberry )

#mental health #post it forward #post if forward week 3 #depression #ADHD #anxiety #school #story time #mental health story #mental illness #dissabilities #neglect #bullying #therapy #504 program #IEP program #college #community college #Hawaii #North Carolina