My dad: you'll be nothing without me! I'll leave all you kids behind and never speak to you again! I don't need anyone, I'm smarter than you all! No one can compare to me!

Me: i mean ig because your two adult children from two separate mothers respectively and their families also don't vibe with you and only regularly started speaking to you recently right? Because you're too much of a coward and self-centered man to keep in touch with them right?

Him:........ *Walks off and locks his door*

Chapter 1: Frozen Desire

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader (18+ Explicit, Minors DNI)

Summary | Chapter 1 Frozen Desire:  It's been one month since Ellie caught both you and Joel grinding up into each other in a sleeping bag. Joel has hardly talked to you, and he has treated you like shit for the past month. When your sleeping bag zipper breaks one night and you are left to lay there alone, cold and freezing you think back to all the times Joel was nice to you and you finally break down. What you didn't realize was that Joel heard you and can’t take it anymore, so he comforts you in a way he swore to himself that he never would. 

Make sure to read the Prequel: Just This Once prior to reading this Chapter. This chapter gives a lot of backstory to help build the characters. 

Warnings | Smut, language, names used (honey, baby). Rough Joel & tender Joel, angst (a lot in the beginning), violence (shoving and attempted head butt by you to Joel), kissing, fingering, unprotected PiV, rough-ish play and sex, creampie, age gap (no actual age is stated but is implied).

Word Count: 4.4k

It had been several weeks since you and Joel had your little humping session in the sleeping bag.  Ellie, being a teenager, kept teasing Joel about it and he kept getting more and more angry with you because of it.  So much so that one night you two didn’t even share a sleeping bag together, and that was the night that you realized that Joel can sometimes be the world’s biggest asshole.

It was winter, and the wind was really cold.  Your sleeping bag had seen better days and you asked if you could conserve body heat by sharing a sleeping bag.  Without hesitation Joel replied “I’m not your fucking keeper,” and then zipped himself up, laid down, and faced away from you.  You tried to zip yourself up in your sleeping bag but you noticed that the zipper was broken, and you couldn’t get the sleeping bag tight around you.  You looked over at Joel and noticed that he had already fallen asleep. You quickly glanced over at Ellie too and noticed she was already asleep. So you tried to wrap yourself in your sleeping bag to stay warm by the fire, and then you tried to fall asleep.

In the middle of the night the wind had picked up significantly and you laid there awake, freezing, unable to feel your fingers or toes. You glanced over at both Ellie and Joel and noticed that they both were fast asleep, and you didn’t want to wake them. So you laid there shivering, trying to stay warm, but your mind kept wandering over all the events that have transpired over the last month. You felt a knot in the pit of your stomach form when you thought back to when Ellie had caught both you and Joel grinding into each other. Ever since then, nothing has been the same; not with Ellie, and certainly not with Joel.  

Ellie, being a teenager, loved to tease Joel about catching you two. She constantly called him an old man, and said that she was surprised that he could still get it up after all these years. Even though her teasing was harmless, it was something that you hated because it made Joel feel guilty especially since you were a lot younger than him. Joel had a habit that when he got really frustrated he'd take his frustration out on you by snapping at you, correcting you but not in a nice way, or ignoring you and refusing to talk to you. On one occasion Ellie's teasing got so bad that you snapped at her in front of Joel and told her to knock it off and to leave him alone. She laughed at you and said “I like to see him ruffled, it’s fun”, and then she walked away not understanding the complexity of what she had just done.  

As you laid there remembering all these moments you felt tears sting your eyes.  You remembered how Joel used to be, and you wanted that tender man back. Tender Joel was the person who talked to you, smiled at you, hugged you when you were worried or upset, and cuddled you when you were cold.  You missed his warmth and his love, if that is what you could call it.  He'd always roll his eyes at you and truly never gave you traditional affection, but he gave you Joel type affection. If you were hungry after having very little to eat, he'd give you his food. If you were cold, he'd share his sleeping bag with you to help you stay warm. If you had bad nightmares he’d hold you until your breathing returned back to normal comforting you until you fell back asleep. He also looked out for your safety. He’d kill raiders for you if you didn't see them coming. He also taught you how to survive, something you didn't know much about until you started traveling with him. 

Joel was always grumpy, always correcting you, but you saw his love for you a few months back when you killed a raider by shooting them dead center in the eyes when they tried to attack him. When Joel turned around to see who fired the shot, he was surprised to see that it was you who did it. As he got up off from the ground and walked back over to you he immediately grabbed you, hugged you, and whispered in your ear "that's my girl" and then turned and walked up the hill.

You also saw Joel's tenderness when you killed a deer, gutted it, and then dragged it back yourself. When you met up with him at the camp you noticed that he only had gotten 2 rabbits for supper. You couldn't help but tease him in that moment saying "mine's bigger" as you pointed to the deer. He stood there and for a moment you thought you saw a small smile touch his lips when he shook his head and said "apparently." Then once again he turned and walked away from you towards the fire. When he was a few feet away from you he yelled over his shoulder "go get Ellie to help me with supper. You can rest, you must be sore after having to deal with something that big." 

But ever since the sleeping bag incident, you didn't see any of that behavior anymore with him. Yesterday, both Ellie and Joel had gotten a rabbit for food. You, however, wound up empty handed and didn’t get anything. When you all returned to cook the prized possessions, Joel had asked you if you had gotten anything for food and you told him no.  He then said "well, you gotta kill it to eat it. And if ya don't get somethin', then ya don't eat. I’m sorry, I only have one." At first you told him you understood and that you weren’t really hungry, even though you actually were. You knew that survival was cruel, but you didn’t think Joel was worse until after speaking with Ellie. 

When you were scavenging for berries Ellie had approached you to help. You two were talking and then eventually she told you that Joel had the option of getting 2 other rabbits, but he chose not to. She told you that when she asked him why he said "you only kill what yer gonna eat." So that night you went to bed upset and hungry. As you faced away from everyone you silently cried because that was the first time in a year that Joel never got extra just in case you couldn't get anything. What you didn’t know then was that Joel heard you crying, and it killed him to know that he was the one that was causing you this extreme pain. 

As you laid there continuing to shiver you silently wished out loud that all of this would stop. You hated his hatred for you, yet you didn't do anything wrong. You hated his constant reminder of how stupid you were, even though you were just trying to live. You hated the way he scorned you for just giving in to your fantasy of wanting to be with the only man you've been with for the last year. You also hated the love that you felt for him as you realized that he didn't feel the same thing in return. It was then at that final admission that you felt your hardened exterior crack and a horrible sob escaped your mouth. 

Joel, unable to sleep, laid on the ground facing away from you and heard everything that you had said. After weeks of treating you like shit, it was then that he realized that he was being the world’s biggest asshole to you, and he hated himself for it. As he continued to lay there listening to you, he felt a sickening feeling rise up into his chest. He realized that he was embarrassed for the way he had been treating you. So when he heard your horrible sob escape your mouth he unzipped his sleeping bag, and took it over to you. When he got to you he grabbed your shitty sleeping bag and threw it off from you. He then said in a stern voice “come here.” When you didn’t budge, he rolled his eyes and then laid down next to you, grabbed your hips, pulled you tight to him, and then zipped the two of you up in his sleeping bag to get warm. He tried to turn you around to get you to face him where he could tuck you in closer, but you refused.  So he held you in the spooning position and soothed your cries by saying “shhh honey. It’s ok. I’m sorry. Stop crying now.”  

Fifteen minutes later your shivers finally stopped, but your tears did not. You had a lot of emotions boiling up to the surface and Joel didn't want to stifle them. So he just laid there with you and slowly rubbed soothing circles onto your skin to try to calm you down. But when he heard you let out another broken sob saying “Why do y-you hate m-me so much?", he paused as he didn't know what to do. 

After a moment of silence you took Joel’s lack of response as another sign that you did something wrong. You tried to move away from him, but you felt him grip your hips and say “Don’t" in your ear, but nothing else. Up until this point you would have gladly melted at his response if he would have elaborated more besides just saying don't. But his lack of response mixed with your emotionally exhausted state, you finally had hit your breaking point where you didn’t give a shit anymore. You were filled with so much hurt and anger towards him for not caring that you wanted to leave, and you wanted to lash out at him for his inability to care for you or even give a shit about you. So you started to shove him to get up. Joel, however, wasn’t in the mood for your theatrics. Every time you fought against him he just locked you tighter in a vice grip with his arms. You tried fighting harder to get away from him, even threatened to hit him if he didn’t let you go, but he never moved. The harder you fought, the tighter he gripped you. 

“If you hate me so God damn much then why won’t you just let me fucking leave?” you yelled trying to force Joel off from you.  When he didn’t move you attempted to headbutt him with the back of your head so he would let you up. When you did this Joel had finally hit his own limit with you and snapped. He firmly grabbed your shoulders, rolled you over, and then slammed your back hard onto the ground saying with a stern voice “Stop it and calm the fuck down. Right. Now.”

After Joel slammed your back onto the ground you laid there for several moments seething with anger but not moving. Joel had never been this rough with you before.  As if he could feel your tension he gently grabbed your head and tucked your head against his chest saying in a calm voice “I don't hate you, but you need to calm down baby, please.” He continued to place soothing strokes on the back of your head saying “I don’t hate you, never have. I just- I need you to calm down for me ok. Can you do that? If ya still want to leave after that, then I’ll let you leave.”

While being tucked into Joel’s chest, his scent of pine and cinnamon started to consume you and you closed your eyes to focus on your breathing. As you did this you had recalled a memory that the two of you had shared when you first started out traveling together.  One night you were fighting with him and you were overly emotional (like now) and he had then held you in the same tight embrace that he has you held in now, telling you to calm down and if you wanted to leave afterwards you could. The longer you focused on the memory, the calmer you were becoming. After a few moments Joel had noticed that you were slowly calming down so he turned both of you carefully onto one side. You heard him say "atta girl, you're doing so good honey" as he ran small soothing circles down your back. The longer he kept reassuring you, the more you kept melting into his embrace.  The more you relaxed mentally, the more your body responded to him physically. 

Joel could feel you slowly start to relax and calm down with you in his arms. He knew you could be very emotional, especially right before your period. But he also knew that being an asshole didn't help the situation either. As he laid there with you consuming your sweet smell of flowers and pine, he felt like he truly was in heaven. He was glad for a moment that you were acting all crazy, but he’d never tell you that. He was glad because it gave him the opportunity to hold you once again. It was something that he desperately wanted to do these last few weeks, but Ellie was making it very difficult for him. Ellie was always teasing him about being too old and that holding a woman close was ‘disgusting.’ It really didn’t matter to him what she said, as he knew she was just pushing his buttons, but each time it still hurt and made him question his want and need for you. 

As he laid there holding you, he started thinking on how he's been treating you these last several weeks. How mean he's been to you and how he just acted like the biggest asshole on this Earth. He knew that he shouldn’t be taking out all of his frustration on you, but god damn it, he wanted to be with you but he knows he shouldn’t.  He wanted to be inside you so bad more times than not, to the point where he couldn’t even think straight anymore. But after losing both Sarah and Tess, he knew he couldn’t take the chance yet again, not even with you. He knew that once he tasted you, even being inside of you, he would be hooked for life. He kept telling himself that he couldn’t risk it. But as he laid there trying to think of a way to get out of his feelings he realized something. If he didn’t start treating you better or showing you appreciation, he was gonna lose the one person that made his entire life better in this shitty world, and that one person was you.  

As his mind started to race he felt a tightening in his chest and he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take seeing you like this, someone who's always been so strong now reduced to an emotional mess, and it was all because of him and his stupid fears of getting close to someone again.  The truth was he adored you and wanted you not just to stay with him, but to be with him. Just him, as a man. When he saw the internal turmoil that you were having, of how you weren’t understanding what he was feeling (not that he shared it with you anyway), he did the only thing that he could think of at that moment. He reached down, grabbed your face, and then smashed his lips to yours in a rushed and heated kiss. As soon as his lips connected with yours, it was like someone unleashed the inferno in his body. He needed to have more of you and he didn’t care who the fuck was watching this time.

When your lips were first on Joel’s it was like the whole world had stopped or at least drastically slowed down for a moment.  All you felt was the moist, soft, tender lips; a scruffy face, and raw sexual energy. Your body felt like it was floating and your head was spinning. Prior to Joel kissing you it felt like you had a low fire burning in your belly 24/7 for this man. But now, it felt like you had a raging inferno. You wanted more, you were desperate for more, so when you felt his tongue skim along your lower lip requesting access into your mouth, you gladly gave him access. As soon as you parted your lips you felt his tongue gently enter your mouth cautiously, unsure if this was what you truly wanted. But as soon as his tongue connected with yours, it was like someone ignited a fire between the two of you. Very quickly the lazy slow kiss turned into a hot frenzy kiss where you both were wrestling your tongues together, trying to see who was the more dominant one. 

As you two continued to wrestle each other with your mouths, you felt a familiar throb between your legs return and you also felt yourself getting wet again. Without thinking, you raised your hips upwards towards his and as soon as you came in contact with them you ground yourself into him. When he felt you do this he also ground down hard onto you and moaned your name into your mouth to make it perfectly clear that you turned him on. And once again you felt his tight bulge against your heated core. You two both found your bodies begin that familiar dance rutting hard into one another, chasing that high once again. But this time it was different. This time his movements were more frantic and heated, like he was desperately trying to make you understand that he wanted this with you.

You wanted him to place his hands on you and to touch you in ways that you only could dream of. You wanted him to be inside of you and to help you calm that hard ache deep in your lower belly. You needed him to cradle you against his body and slowly rock into you filling a need that not even you could fill, no matter how many times you touched yourself in private. You wanted Joel Miller completely without restraint.  So when you pulled away from him, you looked up into his eyes with dark blown out pupils and tried to find the words to tell him how you felt. 

“Joel, please, I-” you started to say when all of a sudden he cut you off by saying “Shh honey, I know, I got you. I’m gonna give you a little relief. M’k.”  Then you felt him unzip your pants and shove his hand down between your legs.

“Fuuckk” he growled in your ear when he came into contact with your underwear and felt that you were completely drenched. “Is this all for me baby?” he said as he slowly slid his knuckles up the seam of your panties feeling how wet you were.  When he heard you slightly whimper you felt him move his hand to the inside your underwear.  As soon as he came in contact with your pussy you felt him tease your little hole to get some of your arousal on his big calloused fingers and then he slowly drew his fingers up your slit, circled your clit, and then slowly brought his fingers back down by your entrance. You heard yourself give out a long soft moan in his chest.

Joel then slowly slipped two fingers deep into your heat, and as he did you whined at the full feeling and the gentle stretch that was burning inside of you from his large fingers. “Fuck baby, you’re so god damn tight” he growled in your ear. “My poor baby has been neglected hasn’t she” he said while pulling his fingers out and gently tapping your entrance with his hand before entering you again. With each slow thrust of his fingers Joel slowly started to get your body to relax to allow him in deeper. Finally he bottomed out to the knuckle and curled his fingers to hit that spongy area deep inside of your core, the one that hasn’t been hit by someone in a very long time. After he stroked that sweet spot a few times you heard yourself groaning and frantically started to chase your high by humping his fingers feverishly trying to get a better angle but you couldn’t. Out of frustration you whined and started to beg for him to go deeper as you weren’t quite getting him where you needed him. He immediately hushed you and told you to be quiet and that he was going to help you. Out of desperation you reached out and tried to undo his belt on his pants and he bit the side of your neck and told you No while still fingering you at a fast pace.  When you asked him why, he said “I’m not gonna be able to stop if I- we can’t- it’s-” and then you knew the problem, the entire problem all along.  

Ellie was just a few feet away and you couldn’t risk her waking up with Joel’s cock buried deep within you, at least not laying on the ground outside. Ellie was the reason he was acting the way he was.  You didn’t hate her for it, as she was just a teenager and Joel was taking on the father figure with her.  She needed to be taught stability and appropriateness in a world that was not appropriate nor stable at all. But even in knowing the reasons you still felt your heart shatter again, like it hadn’t shattered enough times already tonight.  Once again the flood gates opened and you stopped moving and tears streamed down your cheeks. You were mentally exhausted and were sick and tired of feeling all of these emotions, but mostly you were frustrated and Joel knew it.  

Joel stilled at your reaction and then you heard him take in a ragged breath.  The next thing you knew he was yanking your pants down and shoving them at the bottom of the sleeping bag and undoing his belt and pants.  He didn’t give you any time to adjust as he plunged his cock deep inside of your scortching heat while putting a hand over your mouth to silence the moans that you gave him.  As soon as he was fully sheathed you felt him still for a moment to allow you to adjust to his large size and then he started to move, setting almost a brutal pace. 

Joel was bigger than any guy you have ever had.  At first it was uncomfortable, but then you started to love the full feeling while he moved in and out of you. You started to feel that coil build tight inside of your belly again so you started matching him thrust for thrust.  After a few moments you needed him to get a little deeper as he was barely scratching that itch inside of you, so you brought one leg up higher to allow him deeper access. As soon as you did that both of your your eyes rolled back into your head at the tight feeling and you heard Joel give out a loan moan followed by several incoherent sentences. 

The next thing you knew you both were grunting and moaning as you both rutted hard against each other. His cock kept hitting that sweet spot over and over again deep inside of you and you kept hearing and feeling his balls slapping hard against your pussy.  You were no longer concerned with who was nearby or what was happening, all you could feel or focus on was Joel. You heard him whisper in your ear “Fuck baby, you’re so god damn tight. God, I need this. You need this cock don’t you.”

You responded “Joel I- fuck it feels so good, please don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping baby, I don’t fucking care who sees or hears us. I’m not gonna stop fucking this beautiful lil pussy until you come so hard on my cock. Then I’m gonna fill you up. Do ya want me to do that sugar, fill you up?”  

As soon as Joel said that you felt your walls begin to tense and flutter inside of you as the coil was being wound tighter and tighter in your belly. Joel could feel it too and growled in your ear “fuck baby, I feel ya squeezing me. Is my baby close, ya gonna come for me?”  A few more deep brutal thrusts was all that it took for you to feel that coil snap inside of you as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks and you exploded around him. His hand went to your mouth in an attempt to quiet your moans. But as you looked up at him you saw him look at you the same way he did when you killed those raiders, pure bliss and that he was so proud of you.  Joel continued to fuck you hard through your orgasm and he kept growling in your ear saying “that’s it baby, keep coming. Squeeze my cock, such a good girl." 

As your body started to come back down from your orgasm you felt his thrusts start to get sloppy and you begged him to come inside of you.  Finally after a few more deep thrusts he found his own release moaning your name into your ear as he spurt hot white ropes of his cum deep into your pussy.  Eventually you both came down from your high, reapplied your clothing, and then both fell asleep in each other’s arms.  

Come morning you were hoping that Joel was going to be in a better mood, and he was but only for a little bit.  After Ellie woke up his icy stance eventually came back up towards you. Later on you had approached him and wanted to discuss the subject of what had happened earlier when he said to you “we aren’t going to talk about it anymore, clear.” And just like that, tender Joel was gone and survival Joel was back. But this time it was different as when he turned back to yell at you to hurry up and keep up, you caught a smirk on his face as he looked you up and down with a heated glare in his eyes.  You didn’t know what was going to happen with your relationship or where you stood with everything.  But you knew one thing was for certain, sex with Joel wasn’t going to be a one time only thing. You two would fuck again. In fact, you were certain of it.

-End Chapter 1-

There will be more parts coming out in the future. If you want to be added to my taglist let me know in the comments.  Feel free to reblog and share it. Thanks for all of your support :) 

taglist: @punkshort

Hello I just wanted to say ur amazing writer and I was wondering if I can request Winchester brother x sister reader where the reader is the youngest Winchester maybe around 16- 17 you can choose the fits but I was hoping u can do like where the reader is depressed and has ED (eating disorder ) and doesn’t tell the brothers and one day it gets worse and passed out the brothers are worried trying to help her out but it hard for her I hope this ok if not I can do different request it just I found comfort in angst topics with struggles I go through you know sorry if this doesn’t makes sense

It started years ago. To be exact it started when your father lost it, going mental on your oldest brother Dean. The three of you were thick as thieves and it physically hurt to see the complete and utter destruction your father left behind for Dean to clean up.

Living your life on the road was okay, you had two great older brothers that kept you up. Kept you in good spirits but it's hard when your whole world around you is crashing. You know it, your family knows but no one else.

How Dean and Sam ever dealt with the massive weight on their shoulders. It blew your mind. You. You weren't worth anything, especially not your mother burning on the ceiling. Your father resented you. You didn't need him to say it, because you could tell. Dean was his soldier, Sam was the disappointment, but the smartest out of the three of you. But you, you were the reason all four of you were in this mess. The reason why John was searching for that revenge every day.

Covering it up with the idea of saving people, but you were smart, so very smart. Sam had complimented you many times on your quickness, and sharpness when it came to the lore, but regarding your father, it was never the approval you were looking for.

Lots of things happened, to get you to the age of seventeen and drowning in the pit of your stomach all because you all no desire to be here anymore. You weren't helping your older brothers you were just in the way.

In the way of progress, a major setback to them. For them to prove to John that they would be like him, do like him. They'd have to leave you behind. It was for the best.

It started off as a way to conserve the little food the four of you had. At the ripe age of seven you learned quickly that offering your food to Sam was a better idea, or skipping off to lay in a shitty motel bed was better than eating. Yes your stomach would growl and the acid would burn, but anything to keep the weight of your brother off your shoulders.

As you grew up you learned that if you stayed at school as long as you could it was the best. Dean had just learned how to drive driving was his passion, reading was Sam. And yours... yours was to stay away, out of the way.

By the age of fifteen, you had your patterned packed down and tight. You leave with Sam since he drove you to school, and since he was a senior. You felt a wave of dizziness almost every morning. The night's dinner is still wrapped in its paper bag. Claiming to take it for lunch. Dean never argued with you. Kiss your forehead and hitting the pillow quicker than he hit on the girls that passed by the motel's door.

Your father was already starting to become absent. The shadow of what a perfect family no one ever talked about. You thrived in the school building though. Sam kissed your forehead his height greatly giving him the advantage before saying his goodbyes to you and running to meet with his senior friends.

You walked alone in the hallways. The bullying started almost immediately the second you stepped into the building. Near of my brothers were aware of the shit I went through on a daily basis. Years later they still weren't.

You had settled on never telling them about my dislike for eating, you hoped and prayed most night that they'd never find out. It was better without their acknowledgment of your weakness. Who knows they might be the same way everyone was at school.

The last year had been hard for you and your brothers, your father making less, and less of an effort with all three of you. Your relationship was already straining to stay alive, the burning and hurt in the bit of your stomach was something that was constant now, and from what you could tell it wasn't going to get any better.

Your brothers are now in their early 20's still taking care of their baby sister. Nights you guys sat down for dinner were odd, without John there. The quiet days where a now older Sam would drive you to school, along by yourself all day long. The teasing being relentless.

The whole idea, you were constantly dizzy, constantly on the verge of falling asleep no matter if you were in class, or at the crappy motel room with your brothers.

Tonight though, tonight your world fell apart as you walked in through the door, your final year of schooling was just starting your summer of staying inside and reading was over. The hot day of September had gotten to you more than you were willing to say. As you walked in through the motel door, the cool air hitting you in your face, and the hot air of the evening summer day kicking you in your ass.

It was too much, down you and your light bookbag went. Dean had been on one of the motels' beds when he heard you fall, Sam behind hadn't been able to catch you even with his long arms.

You don' remember much. You do remember hearing the sounds of your brothers frantically rushing around the room, one dropping his gun, and the other rushing over to your side.

"Dean what the hell just happened?" Sam asked in a frantically worried voice. "I don't know all I heard was the engine of Baby, and then her fall to the floor," Dean said rushing to your thin frame. Neither had noticed until now when they finally had time to pay attention to their baby sister that she was rather thinner than a normal seventeen-year-old.

Paler then normal, "Sam do you notice it?" Dean asked as Sam pulled the lightweight bookbag from your small shoulders. A small hum came from Sams's lips, maybe it was too much to say it. The words making truth when they leave his lips.

Sam picked you up feeling just how boney you were. "How did we let her get this bad Dean?" He questioned, Dean kept his head down grabbing her bag and following behind Sam to the bed's side.

When you woke up your two brothers were talking quietly in the tiny kitchen. Sam saw you try to get up their conversation stopped at a halt, and they both came over to help you.

Quiet overcame the room. Dean was the first to speak. "How are you feeling, Y/n?" He asked, you shrugged your shoulders, the ache in your body was strong, but not enough to make that your brother's problems.

"Y/n please be honest with us... Is this the first time something like this has happened?" Your brother Sam asked. Swallowing hard, before talking you answered Dean's question. "I feel fine guys really nothing to worry about." Answering Sams was going to be harder, you don't really remember the last time something like this happened, maybe last week in school, maybe a few years ago. "I don't remember Sam." That was all you said. Sad expression littered their coarse and worn faces.

"Y/n, how long have been like this?" Dean asked, furrowed brows as he asked the question. "Like what?" You replied. "Like how you don't eat at dinner and think we don't notice, how long Y/n? Just answer please." Dean said.

You tried opening your mouth, but the pressure of being truthful with your brothers was overbearing. Trying again and still, nothing slipped out. Sam ur interrupted your train of thought. "Since dad started on with his hunt for yellow eyes?" Simple questions always have a simple answer.

"If you want an honest answer I'd say seven or eight." You said, pushing yourself up from laying in the bed to sitting up against the headboard. The gasps for air were real between your two brothers. One hand came to rest on top of yours while the other paced around the motel room.

Your guess as to which was mad, and empathic wasn't hard for you. Dean pacing around the room meant he was angry, and Sam's empathic hand on top of yours meant he to wanted help. "Why didn't you tell us?" Dean questioned me, Sam turned to look at his older brother. "That won't help, we were talking remember. We need to help her, bot questions her about her actions or even her reason why." Sam said, Dean, calm down as he continued to pace.

Sam returned his attention to you. Hand still laying on top of yours, "Y/n why don't we, all the three of us help you yeah?" He said you laughed a little and Dean looked up from his pacing feet. "I don't think you guys could ever help me. I've been and felt this way for ten years now. This is just how I am now. Broken and worthless to this Winchester family." You said the strain of holding back was harder than you thought. Dean had paused his pacing staring at you and Sams's hand had engulfed yours.

Dean came over, putting his finger under your chin, grabbing your attention. "You listen here, to Sam and I. We care more about you than you'll ever know. We don't care what any person thinks, we don't care about Dad as much as we care about our little sister. Now believe me when we say that all we want to do is help you, helping you is what Sam and I are here for. Y/n you aren't alone, you aren't, worthless, and you most definitely aren't broken. We can help you all you have to do is let us in." Dean said sitting down next to you when he was down.

"We love you and don't wanna see so much potential be wasted especially when we knew we could have helped you," Sam added. You were having a hard time believing them, but nothing would stop you from trying especially when you had your brothers by your side.

SC: I need you [Jumin Han]

Warnings: None.

Word count: 3,286.

A/N: This is my first time posting a scenario/one-shot, I hope you like it! :)

It’s been two weeks since the last time Jumin was home early. It was a difficult time in C&R, the Chairman had a new girlfriend; this time was a young and beautiful model he met while promoting one of the new products the company was launching. And as expected, the rumors didn’t wait long to come out, but this time they were much worse.

Apparently, a few days ago a paparazzi spotted the model at a maternity clinic getting a pregnancy blood test. The news blew up instantly; the Chairman of C&R International was dating a woman much younger than him, and she was pregnant. Great.

As always, Jumin and Jaehee were the ones dealing with the damage made by the media, and the stock prices falling like crazy, even after the Chairman clarified that his girlfriend was not pregnant.

Since Korea is a very conservative country, rumors like that did no good to the company and they were having a lot of trouble keeping everything in control.

Those two weeks, Jumin kept getting home late and talking coldly to you. He seemed tired all the time and was in a bad mood constantly. Sometimes he even acted a bit harsh towards you, but you always tried to understand him since you knew his job wasn’t easy.

Instead of getting offended from his behavior, you tried to greet him with dinner ready, or tried to help him relax with a bubble bath. But he constantly rejected and ignored you, and that was starting to get in your nerves.

Until one day, he again got home late and you were waiting with dinner, hoping just this one time he would eat and spend some time with you. You already knew his answer, but this time you were going to insist knowing he hadn’t been eating properly and you were worried about him.

Sitting patiently at the dining room, you heard the door open and the heavy steps from your husband walking directly towards your shared bedroom. You quickly got up and ran to him, pulling his hand the moment you saw him so he couldn’t avoid you.

“Oh, no, tonight you won’t be ignoring me!” You happily dragged him to the dining room where his favorite food (prepared by you) was displayed across the table.

“Y/N, I’m not in the mood. I have so many things to do tomorrow, I’ll go to bed now.”

His words weren’t that rude, but the tone of his voice, the coldness in his eyes and the way he pulled his hand from yours, made you reach your limit.

“Jumin! You can’t keep doing this. You’ve been ignoring me all this time; you don’t even say hello to me or something. The only thing you do when you come home is take a shower, sleep and head back to the office.” You said while walking behind him to the bedroom, as he started undressing and changing into his striped pajamas. “If it wasn’t for Jaehee I wouldn’t even know if you eat properly, which you don’t! This needs to stop now!”

“I don’t need you to take care of me, I know how do it, ok? And I ignore you because I’m too tired to bear with you.” His voice denoted no emotion whatsoever saying this, making you feel confused by his words.

“Excuse me…? Bear with me…?” You asked offended.

“Yes, Y/N, bear with you. Sometimes you’re so talkative and energetic it’s annoying. When I come home tired like today, I just want to rest, and you just don’t leave me alone!” He let out those words easily, showing exasperation but continued to organize his clothes for the next day.

“Well, sorry for trying to cheer you up! If I don’t leave you alone is because I’m worried and I want to take care of you!”

“I got news for you, Y/N! I don’t need you to take care of me! In fact, I don’t need you at all. I was doing well without you before getting married and I’d do much better without you right now. So, please, WOULD YOU LEAVE ME ALONE?” He turned around and looked at you in the coldest way possible, with a harsh tone and shooting daggers through his eyes.

You didn’t hesitate a second and replied:

“Yeah, don’t worry, Jumin, I will comply your wish gladly!”

You stepped back and hurriedly came out of the room. He slammed the door behind you, but you payed no attention. You looked for your phone and your bag thinking:

I don’t want to stay here tonight. I must go somewhere.

Then you heard your husband enter the bathroom to take a shower, and as soon as you heard the water running you rushed to the room and packed up some clothes as fast as you could, and took the money you saved a long time ago for an emergency, since you wouldn’t be able to use any of the credit card’s Jumin gave you.

When you were done packing your stuff, you took a piece of paper and a pen and wrote:

I’ll be spending the night at Jaehee’s place. I’ll call you tomorrow.

You left the note over his pillow, exactly where he would see it when he comes out of the bathroom.

Now with some of your clothes and indispensable things packed up, you were about to head out silently, but you almost tripped with a small white furball. You looked down and encountered Elizabeth rubbing her head in your legs.

You leaned forward and whispered:

“Don’t worry, Elly, I won’t be gone forever. I’ll come back later.”

You weren’t sure if you would comeback to make up with Jumin or to break things up, but you’d definitely have to come back at some point.

You were caught in your thoughts when the sound of the water streaming stopped. You froze in your place waiting for Jumin to come out of the bathroom, but that never happened, instead the water started running again, making you sigh in relief.

That was your signal to hurry up and go out without him noticing while you could.

The bodyguards were gone at this hour, so sneaking out without anyone noticing was pretty easy. You walked outside the house, the one Jumin bought after the wedding so you two could live like a married couple properly and one day have a family.

You had your phone in hand ready to call Jaehee, but after thinking about it thoroughly you decided to stay somewhere else and not involve her. Since your husband was her boss, she could get in trouble and that was something you wanted to avoid.

Instead, you searched for a good hotel far away enough from the house, so you could have your time alone with no problem. You found one, though it was a bit expensive but anything was better than being kidnapped at a cheap and unknown place.

You took a 30 minutes ride in a cab to get there and texted the location to Seven in case anything happened. You didn’t want to worry the rest of the RFA with your marital problems.

He texted back:

707: ‘Lololol. R U havin an adventure with Jumin? O.O’

You: ‘We had a fight and I’m staying outside for tnght. I sent u the location just in case, but plz don’t tell him where I am. I rlly want to be alone.’

707: ‘O.K! But promise me you’ll call right away if smthn happens >:(‘

You: ‘Yes! Promise!’

You smiled at your phone, and then walked in to register in the hotel for an indefinite amount of time.

 The next day Jumin woke up alone in his luxurious bed.

For a moment he forgot you didn’t spend the night there, but thinking you were at safe hands with Assistant Kang he got ready and headed to his office as early as always, except this time you weren’t there to say goodbye, even if he ignored you.

When he arrived at C&R, Assistant Kang was waiting outside his office to hand him some papers that needed to be reviewed by him before sending them to the clients.

“Assistant Kang.” He called. “Thank you for accepting my wife in the middle of the night. I’ll make sure to compensate you for taking care of her.”

She just stared at him confusedly, not sure what to respond. Jumin noticed her stare and raised his brows in interrogation.

“Sir… I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t seen your wife since we went out last weekend…” Jaehee said carefully, inspecting her boss reaction while finishing the sentence.

Jumin stood petrified, realizing the situation. Quickly, he took out the phone from his pocket and called you. Your phone was ringing but you weren’t answering.

“Mr. Han could you please explain what happened?” She asked calmly.

“We argued last night, and Y/N told me she’d spend the night with you.”

Jaehee thought for a moment, and said:

“Let me try calling her instead.”

She copied her boss and took out her phone, dialing your number. After three rings, you picked up.

“Hi, Jaehee!” You greeted.

“Y/N, are you alright? Where are you?”

“Oh, sorry I didn’t tell you anything, I didn’t want to get you in trouble. I suppose Jumin explained everything, but you don’t have to worry, I’m staying at a safe place and Seven already knows the address in case something happens. I can’t tell you where I am, though, I want to be alone for some time.”

“But, Y/N, you shouldn’t go out like…!”

“I have to go unpack my things, Jaehee! I’ll call you later! Bye!” You interrupted her and hung up.

She was a bit shocked but then looked back to Jumin beside her. He was frowning and seemed to be angry. He heard everything; it wasn’t necessary for Jaehee to explain.

He was mad at you for taking such a risk going out alone in the middle of the night; he was mad at Luciel for not telling him the instant he received a call from you, but most importantly he was mad at himself.

He was the cause of you going out like that, he knew he hurt you with his words and regretted it after calming down in the shower. But he thought you were going to forgive him after that, since you were always so patient. Jumin thought you knew he didn’t mean those harsh things.

But how would you know? When he said it with a cold and serious face.

How would she know I love her with all my heart, if I treated her like that and never apologized?

“Mr. Han?” Jaehee called his name, interrupting his inner lamentation.

He ignored her and once again unlocked his phone, this time calling Seven to ask him your location.

“Nuh uh, she wants to be alone, Jumiiiin. Let her be!” Answered Seven instantly, already expecting Jumin’s request.

“Luciel, this is an order. She is MY wife.”

“Well, if she was mad enough to run away like that from you, you probably did something bad.” Touché, Jumin thought. “You should use this time apart from her to thing about your actions. Remember God’s always watching, and he doesn’t like spoiled kids!”

“And before you start nagging me! I’m watching over her through that place’s CCTV, she’s very safe there! Now I must go finish work. Bye bye, Jumin!”

The call ended and Jumin was still holding his phone against his ear, processing everything that was going on.

“Mr. Han, I know this is something important, but you have a meeting with the board of directors. Do you want me to reschedule it?” Assistant Kang caught his boss’ attention again.

After a few seconds of thinking, he decided to continue his day as if nothing happened. He was sure at some point you would have to come back and talk to him.

And after all, what he said last night was true, he would be alright without you… Right?

 A couple days went by and he still had not heard from you.

You logged in the chatroom only when you knew he was not there, to talk with the other members as you usually did. Seven assured the others you were at a safe place so no one was really worried anymore, except for the fact that you were obviously avoiding your husband, but that was more of a private matter between the two of you, so they didn’t say anything.

At first Jumin thought you’d be staying outside for a day or two until you both calmed down, but he was wrong. A week has passed, and he was still alone in his enormous house.

He convinced himself the first couple days that he would be fine without you, since the last two weeks you didn’t talk much anyway. But, once again, he was totally wrong.

He was missing you like crazy, the time alone helped him realize that even if he ignored you the past days, he still was comforted by knowing his lovely wife was waiting at home.

He missed your voice saying those sweet Good mornings after waking up; he missed seeing your face when coming home, with a bright smile always cheering for him even if he acted coldly; and he missed your presence by his side on the bed at night.

Jumin was getting more and more worried as days passed by. He constantly asked Assistant Kang how you were doing, since you wouldn’t pick up his calls, but that was not enough for him. He wanted to see you with his own eyes and embrace you to make sure you were truly fine.

On the other side, you were using your time alone to relax, sleep, go shopping and do all the things you were missing the last two weeks because you were sick worried about your husband. You obviously missed him as much as he missed you, but you wanted to feel good and make sure what you were going to do before meeting him again.

You were planning to stay two more days at the hotel before coming back home, so you decided to stay at your room for the night and watch some movies and eat junk food since Jumin always made sure you never ate those unhealthy things at home.

While you relaxed at the hotel, Jumin, on the other side, was a nerve wreck. He wanted to see your face desperately, even if it was just a few minutes. But he wasn’t sure if you were still mad at him. And you had all the right to be, he felt so bad every time he remembered what he said.

Oh, how wrong was he, thinking he didn’t need anyone in his life to be okay. He recalled all his depressing days, before your appearance on the messenger.

When you accepted all his inner demons and flaws, he wanted you to stay beside him for the rest of your lives. But apparently, he took you for granted and forgot all the “threads” tangled in his heart.

And now here he was, sitting alone at your side of the bed on the verge of tears, imagining you coming out of the shower with the biggest smile ever and kissing him, as if the night he told you those horrible things never occurred.

He wanted you back, and he knew he had to do something for that to happen.

So he called Luciel to ask for your location, saying he needed to talk with you personally. At first Luciel refused, saying he had promised not to tell anyone, but after a long time of Jumin insisting over and over, he finally accepted:

“Ahhh, ok, ok! I’ll tell you! Only because you’re getting on my nerves, and I need to work right now if I don’t want my boss to kill me!”

Luciel hung up, and in that instant Jumin received a text with the exact location in real time of your phone, he quickly got up and went out. Calling Driver Kim would take too long, so instead, for the first time in his life, Jumin Han… Took a taxi.

He wasn’t sure how the whole thing worked but didn’t want to wait until Driver Kim arrived at his house, since it was almost midnight. Jumin just showed his phone to the driver and told him to get there as fast as possible.

Thankfully Luciel also sent him the number of your room, so after arriving Jumin slipped through the halls and entered the elevator to get to your room.

At that moment, you were watching some depressing movie about a dog waiting every day at the train station for its late owner. So you were holding back your tears, imagining how would you feel if something happened to Jumin and you never got to see him again.

It was a very emotional moment in the movie when you heard some knocks at your door.

Confused, you took a napkin and cleaned the tears still falling from your eyes. You got up and opened the door thinking it was maybe the cleaning lady or some other employee.

You were even more confused when you found the pale face of your husband in front of you, with bags under his eyes revealing his sleepless nights and a sad look on his face.

“J-Jumin… What…?” You started asking, being interrupted by him.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I—” He stopped talking for a second, then took a deep breath and continued. “I was wrong. Almost all my life has been an emotionless mess until I met you, the only one who showed me what real love is, and the only one who I cared enough to keep in my life.

I wasn’t okay without you before, and I’m not okay without you now. I miss you, Y/N… I need you…”

Jumin doubted for a moment, before taking a step forward and embracing you with all his might. With his face buried in your neck, you heard low sobs.

“Please forgive me…”

You were petrified into his arms, little drops of tears falling down your face, not knowing if they were because of the move or the sadness you had buried in your heart while being apart from the love of your life.

You slowly hugged him back, letting all the hidden emotions finally come out.

“I missed you too, honey” You said crying, squeezing him with your arms.

Jumin raised up his head lightly and said:

“I promise nothing like that will ever happen again.”

He looked at you with eyes full of love, and then leaned to press his lips softly against yours, waiting for some kind of response from you, to know if you would accept him or not, which you did.

You kissed deeply showing all the emotions you both held back during the past couple days; passion, love, sadness, and the will to never be apart ever again.

Jumin was still holding you tightly, fearing you would step back at any second to yell at him. He was afraid of not deserving your love, your forgiveness, but he was desperate to hold you into his arms without caring for anything else at least for a few minutes.

You were the best thing that ever happened to him; you were his sun, the brightness in his life. You were more precious to him than anyone or anything else and he didn’t want to lose you.

In that moment, while kissing you lovingly, Jumin promised himself to not forget this feeling ever again.

Hey it’s angst o’clock: before Kaz and Gundham get together, when they still kinda hate each other, 2 of the Devas have babies and everyone takes turns babysitting the litter while Gundham works. Kaz’s turn comes and he finds one of the babies has died and fREAKS THE FUCK OUT. Like sobbing cuz he’s never had a pet before let alone seen one die and so he takes the baby and flees and everyone thinks he just straight up stole a baby but really he’s fucking horrified and terrified to tell Gundham cuz he fucked it up and the baby is dead cuz of him somehow. And someone, maybe Sonia, finds him and talks him down and they go to Gundham who is more upset that Kaz “stole” a baby but once he realizes what happens he understands. Being a Breeder he probably sees animal death a lot unfortunately. But he helps comfort Kaz and forgives him and lets him help with the living babies and maybe that’s how they start becoming actual friends and sometime down the line they realize oh fuck I’m actually in love with this dude when did that happen IDK SHOWER THOUGHTS WOULDNT LEAVE ME ALONE I HAD TO TELL SOMEONE SORRY

You think you can come onto my blog and just rip my fucking heart out, huh? Right in front of my mutuals? You think you can just rip my heart out and force me to write something sad so everyone else has to feel sad too?

Good. Cus you 100% can lol.

TW: animal death - It’s mentioned repeatedly and is the central theme of this, so please just skip this one if you think you might be uncomfortable reading it. 

Gundham comes into the class one day and he’s super proud and showing off the baby hamsters to everyone. He’s a little embarrassed to ask for help, but he’s working on a very important conservation project or something, so he asks if anyone would be willing to keep an eye on them for an hour or two at a time over the next few days, insisting that it wouldn’t be hard, all they really had to do was make sure they didn’t escape and call Gundham if something went wrong. At least like half the class offers cus the babies are just so damn cute, Soda only offers cus Sonia did and he’s trying to impress her.

Gundham sets up an enclosure for the hamsters in the classroom, and everyone picks a time to come by to watch them.

When Soda’s turn rolls around a few days later, he’s secretly a little excited. He’s been complaining about it the past few days to keep up appearances, can’t have anyone suspecting that even tough he can’t stand Gundham, he also kind of has a soft spot for him (What? Dudes handsome), but he’s actually pretty psyched to get to spend some time just chilling with the baby hamsters. He’s never had his own pet, but he’s always wanted one.

Anyways, when he gets to the class he checks on all the babies and as far as he can tell they’re all good. He gives pets them for a bit, but then they seem like they’re trying to go to sleep so he leaves them and sits at a desk to play around on his phone for a while. Like 40 minutes later he gets up to check on them again.

They’re pretty much all huddled up, and Soda thinks it’s super cute, but he notices one lying down a bit away from the rest. He assumes it must have rolled away in it’s sleep, or that it got kicked out since its the smallest one, so he goes to move it back over to the hamster pile.

It’s cold when he touches it.

He knows pretty much right away what that means, but he doesn’t want to believe it. He pokes it a bit and tries to scratch it’s whiskers to get it to react, but it doesn’t move. He’s already crying, but then he starts thinkin about how it was probably something on his hands that killed it. He didn’t was his hands after finishing up in his garage, and he must have had oil or something on his hand when he was petting the hamster and now it was dead.

He’s hyperventilating.

He’s worried he killed them all, but looking at the hamster pile, the rest of them all appear to be breathing still. He’s too scared to touch them to make sure.

He’s sure its his fault. His fault for touching the hamster with dirty hands and his fault for not paying more attention. The hamster was probably acting weird before it died, if he had just been paying attention he could have called Gundham and it would still be alive.

He’s a murderer.

Sonia was supposed to be the next person watching the hamsters. He couldn’t let her see the dead baby hamster, couldn’t let her know he killed it. He looks around the room and finds a little box to put it in. He’s chocking on his sobs as he picks up the hamster, and he nearly drops it because his hands are shaking so bad. Once it’s in the box he has to take a moment cus he thinks he might vomit from how guilty he feels. 

There’s like 10 minutes before Sonia is supposed to get there, so he takes one last look at the other hamsters, picks up the little box that has no right feeling as heavy as it does, and leaves.

He doesn’t really know where to go so he just heads up to the roof to get some fresh air and think, sobbing the whole way. He’s pretty sure he saw Sonia down one of the hells on his way up, but he just prays she didn’t see him and that she doesn’t remember how many hamsters there were.

He sits with the box in his lap, shaking. 

He thinks he feels it shift.

His chest seizes up. Was it alive? Had he really not killed it? He can feel the hope swelling up inside him as he slowly opens the box-

It’s dead.

It’s definitely dead and now its lying on its side and its little eyes are staring right at Soda and it takes him a minute to realize his sobs have turned into screams of agony. The hope made it so much worse.

He closes the box again and sets it down so gently beside him, before curling in on himself and just sobbing and screaming into his hands so hard his whole body is shaking from it.

He’s a murderer. He killed a defenseless animal. A baby. It was only a few days old and he killed it.

Suddenly there’s a warm hand on his back, rubbing just a little and bringing him back down to earth. His sobs slowly get weaker and he manages to look up, though his vision is still blurred with tears. He can make out dark clothes, pale skin, and a bright purple scarf. He assumes Gundham is there to punish him.

Gundham just asks him what’s going on, says Sonia called him because one of the hamsters was missing and she thought she had seen Soda running away from the classroom earlier. They assumed he had taken one of the hamsters for himself, but that didn’t explain why he was crying on the roof.

Soda realizes that the only reason Gundham isn’t beating him senseless is because he doesn’t know the hamster is dead.

“I killed it.” He starts sobbing harder the second the word leave his mouth. He feels Gundham’s hand tense on his back

“What.” Gundham definitely sounds pissed now. He’s not yelling, but his voice sounds deadly. Soda accepts that he’s about to get the shit kicked out of him, accepts it even. He deserves it.

“I-it must have been the oil on my h-hands or something, I don’t know. I s-should have been paying more attention, but when I looked at them gain it was-” his voice is cut off by another sob, and he’s just waiting for Gundham to hit him. To his surprise, some of the tension in Gundham’s body dissipates.  

“Where is the poor creature?” Gundham doesn’t sound angry anymore and Soda doesn’t understand. He just gestures towards the box, he’s too much of a coward to even look at it again.

Gundham gets up and opens the box. Soda hear him exhale sadly after a moment, before returning to Soda.

“It would seem we have both been mislead.” Gundham sits beside Soda and starts rubbing his back again. He explains that Soda did not kill the hamster, it seemed like something must not have developed right internally, and it simply died of natural causes. There was nothing either of them could have done to save it. Soda is just amazed how calm Gundham is being.

He asks him why he isn’t more upset, and Gundham sighs and tells him that it’s unfortunately something he sees a lot, so over time he’s just gotten used to it.

Soda’s just like “That fucking sucks.” and Gundham kind of laughs sadly and say “It fucking sucks indeed.” Soda’s kind of startled by Gundham swearing and it forces an awkward little laugh out of him. 

They’re both quite for a while, then Gundham tells him he’s touched by how upset Soda was over the hamsters death, and that he’s sure the hamsters soul appreciated him mourning it, but it is simply part of the circle of life and death, so he shouldn’t get too fixated on it. Soda’s still crying a little but he nods and says he’ll try, Gundham keeps rubbing his back.

They stay up on the roof for a while longer. Soda has mostly stopped crying, but Gundham’s hand is still on his back and he tries not to think too much about it. When they stand, Gundham picks up the box before Soda can even think about it and motions for him to follow him.

They bury it in some nearby woods, Soda insists on leaving some flowers. He asks Gundham not to tell their classmate about how much he cried. Gundham just says ‘of course’, as if they didn’t spend most their free time looking for new ways to get under each other’s skin.

Later, Gundham insists that Soda comes to see the healthy babies, telling him it will help him feel better. Soda is scared to be left alone with them, so Gundham just stays by his side the whole time. Even after Gundham finishes his project and brings them back to his place, he invites Soda over to see them. He starts teaching Soda about proper hamster care and they slowly grow closer and closer.

Sometimes Soda gets a little teary eyed while looking at the other hamsters, and he’s worried Gundham will make fun of him. He never does, he always just silently rubs Soda’s back, until one day he pulls him into a hug as well.

Months later, their relationship has completely turned around. They’re both constantly talking to each other and hanging out, they even occasionally refer to the hamster babies as their children haha. The rest of the class starts making bets on when they’ll realize they’re into each other, but for the time being they’re both happy they were able to finally become friends.

I have no problem with (American) celebrities talking about politics, mostly because I don't think it's my place to tell anyone what they should talk about. What I take issue with is the condescending tone some liberal celebrities use when talking about voters from the other side. And the reason for that is, they don't know what they're talking about. A celebrity who is worth millions can't understand what a single mother who lives in a trailer park is going through. Or what a 20-year-old going to community college is going through. So why do celebrities get on TV and start shaming those who voted differently from them? Most of the time it doesn't even matter since the problems of us normies don't affect them. And the proof of that is that they've been travelling like crazy during this pandemic while we're supposed to feel ashamed for wanting to go see grandma after almost a year. This shaming of conservative/republican voters by celebrities like Chris Evans, Pedro Pascal, Elliot (previously Ellen) Page and so on needs to stop.

(Warning in advance: this kind of struck my blue collar nerve, so apologies for the essay you got as a result. TLDR is you’re right and you should say it, and this is a damaging stereotype that has grown particularly dangerous during the pandemic.)

100% agree. And this is universal internationally, imo, or at least in North America/Europe, from what I’ve seen - even if places outside of the USA aren’t quite as divided politically, the pandemic and everything to go with it has just elevated the tension everywhere. People in general are going to vote for the person that promises them the slightest bit of relief of the absolute nightmare that the last year had been and shaming them for that is definitely a case of misplaced self-righteousness.

One thing that really has been making me increasingly irritated about this is the ‘wEaR a MaSk’ celebrity gang (coincidentally almost always the same people who cried in their mansions about how bored they were and decided to encourage people by singing Imagine of all things - no, I haven’t forgotten) when the majority of people didn’t actually protest masks - they protested lockdowns, when they stretched out for months and it was clear that governments would offer no relief to small business owners. At this point, ‘conservative’ and ‘anti-mask’ had become somewhat of a synonym, and everyone seemed to forget that it was barely about the masks to begin with.

I’m bringing this up because it was exactly the condescension that you’re talking about being displayed from everywhere when people started getting angry. 'Just stay home, how bad can it be’, ‘don’t be selfish’, ‘wear your mask, that’s all that’s asked of you’ became the main leading point of liberalism and it was extensively successful in reducing people’s very genuine fears to some petty protesting over masks. Not saying that didn’t happen - there were definitely people flat out refusing to wear those - but it was never about the masks. What about the people who would not have a home to stay in by the end of the month when the last salary they’d had before being sent on who knows how long unpaid leave ran out? If the preventive measures had been limited to wearing masks and standing 2m away from each other, we would be in a better place as a species than we currently are.

And this isn’t even coming only from proper-rich people (last week I saw a tweet that went along the lines of, ‘I haven’t been living in fear, I’ve been staying in the comfort of my own home for months’ and I swear I nearly saw red because it’s just! good for you! last march I had to open a ko-fi page because my salary wouldn’t come in and I had to scrap together food for three people out of spare change while the multibillion dollar company I worked for decided whether they’d deign us with money we’d worked for during a pandemic! glad you’re having a good time, though!) but it’s even worse specifically from them. I distinctly remember Katherine McNamara’s whole ‘teehee just stay home I know it’s boring but you can do it’ shtick, occasionally interrupted by her taking photos on yachts and the realisation that I couldn’t stand it a moment longer before I unfollowed her, and that was so prevalent when it came to - largely liberal - celebrities that I can see why it straight up radicalised a lot of people.

Obviously all politicians lie for their own gain. I’m not saying that the conservative ones were in any way better than their liberal counterparts, but they have rarely been much worse, internationally speaking. And let me tell you - when you don’t know if you’re going to eat tomorrow, when you’re not sure if you’ll even have a job next month because of the measures tightening further, when you’re looking for literally any port in a storm, you’re going to latch on to the people who offer the way out.

Open up [insert country here] in the name of freedom resonated with people because it meant getting their jobs and their security and, again, in some much harsher cases, their homes, back. A family-owned business going under knocks your entire life off-balance - trust me, I would know, because it happened to my family. It was two years ago, nothing to do with covid, but it was largely due to much bigger chain stores in the vicinity. This happens constantly to people all over the world because while small businesses were closed and fined to hell and back for daring to open up shop, the Walmarts and Lidls and Tescos and Billas of the world profited off of people’s desperation for goods that, at the beginning of the pandemic and the delays in international transports, were scarce. The regional managers at my workplace (it was H&M, I’m no longer under contract so I don’t give a shit) fought tooth and nail to open every street location store (such as the one I worked in) while small clothing shops stayed closed for at least two more months, or were open under severe restrictions about how many people could come in at a time, which, obviously, affected them tremendously.

About two weeks ago, a friend told me about a bakery near his place that he really loves. Everyone loved it - up to and including the kids in the nearby school, who would come in during recess - and understandably, people were worried when all sorts of eating-related places were closed, because this was a family business and the family’s only income. Eventually, the schools opened for a bit last year and so did restaurants, but the bakery didn’t, so my friend called the owner to check up on them and the woman just burst into tears on the other side of the line and told him that they hadn’t made it. He asked her if there was still a chance they’d pull through - with a loan or something, at first - and she told him, ‘No, we’re in too deep.’

I barely remember being as angry as I was then. That’s one entire family’s livelihood, destroyed. In this country alone, she’s one of thousands. Worldwide, she’s one of millions. And, just... I’ve been poor all my life. I feel no shame in saying that. For my entire childhood, everything we had or didn’t have depended on how much money my parents’s shop had made on any given day. I started working as soon as I could; I put myself through university. I’ve struggled all the way through. I still struggle now, every month, whenever bills come into the equation, but we manage. We were one of the lucky ones. Stories of people who weren’t are countless, and they break my heart. The notion of some dumbass celebrity talking about how frivolous and ridiculous and uninformed it is to want to open up countries just because it’s mainly conservative politicians tooting that horn fills me with a rare amount of rage.

So, yeah. Elections are coming in my country. Both parliamentary and presidential. And this year I don’t feel like voting for anyone conservative or liberal; I’m just going to vote for whoever either gives people money or allows them to work for it. It feels like at this point, we’ve all been boiled down to that.

oh sehun - collegeboyfriend!au blurb

lmao this is my first blurb ever so sorry if it’s shit

- late grocery runs!! he would always run out of food and/or get snacky after dance society practices. 

- he’d always put random shit in your basket - eitther things he’d want or things that would make you laugh

- cup noodle and sojju dates!! you’d just sit in the pantry or wherever and watch whatever k-drama is new or just talk about bullshit

- picking you up for uni! he would be living in the dorm ages away so he’d take the train all the way to your dorm, wait outside the building (or if it’s the one security guy who liked him, would wait outside your door), and bring you to class

- unless he had a 9am and you don’t (or vise versa)

- then he picks you up for lunch at the café place nearby 

- study dates!! you’d award each other with kisses or small dares. your favorite dare for sehun would be ‘show me how much you love me in an interpretative dance’ 

- saving up for events and activities like escape rooms

- skin care sundays!! one sunday each month is reserved for face masks and movies 

- you don’t ever have to worry about him liking other girls bc he’s sososo affectionate

- he’s constantly holding your hand or wrapping his arms from behind you 

- sometimes, if you guys share any tedious activities or events, he’d lean his head to your shoulder and whisper complaints, snarky comments, or sassy comments into your ear

- but when he loves a lecture or a class, you see his eyebrows furrow with concentration. his eyes never once leave the slides and he writes all his notes down in a messy, but in the same but odd way beautiful way in his notebook

- student discount dates!! you would do the weirdest and most thrifty things - from vintage clothe shopping or watching any discounted movies at midnight -- even if the movie has gotten 1/100 on rotten tomatoes

- running errands together and teaching each other simple chores - you teach sehun how to cook, sehun teaches you the basics of fashion / mixing things together, you teach him how to do laundry, he teaches you about how to take care of your skin and how to get motivated

- you’d sneak into his dorm all the time

- or vice versa

- he abosolutely hates sleeping alone

- he’d want to cuddle you

- you’d share the single bed and squish in together

- sehun’s legs literally fall off the bed

- but he’d wrap them around you in an embrace

- he’d tell you how much he loves you and talks about whatever is on his mind

- you’d talk about how your days went, about plans for the next day, about the newest celebrity drama, about a weirdly shaped rock outside

- if you ever fight, sehun made you promise you’d never go to bed angry

- so even if the fight goes unresolved, you two pinky promise to deal with it tomorrow and still sleep in the same bed

- he’d cuddle into you more than usual

- and the smell of his cologne would remind you everything would be okay

- but for real, sehun would give you a silent treatment

- so like, when he cuddles into you, it acts as a reminder that he loves you and that the silence he’s giving you is not reflective of how he thinks of you

- sometimes he’d leave passive aggressive notes on sticky notes

- hm, i wonder what it’s like to actually listen to someone’s feedback for once... it’s totally not like it’d be helpful at all! :) 

- good morning texts if one of you have to leave the bed early for class

- texting each other after your last class to meet up 

- going to libraries together and studying while sharing the same earbuds

- if you  get stressed, sehun would do goofy faces to make you laugh or talk about things he’d want to do with you when the work is done to give you motivation

- sometimes you both go to the library, even if one of you don’t have work for moral support

- ...and distractions

- legit one of you would end up doing a proper lip-sync performance while the other studies

- sometimes the other would fall asleep on each other’s shoulders

- you two would go to the gym together -- even if you don’t work out

- most of the time in the gym anyway, you guys just play stupid versions / very unathletic versions of team sports with the exo boys

- you and the exo boys would have a tradition of arcades, karaoke, and koreaan BBQ after exams or “hell weeks” 

- the boys make fun of sehun for being “whipped” 

- he doesn’t help himself by hiding his face in the crook of your nneck

- he’s both the most affectionate and most conservative person you’d ever meet

- he’s also both so shy and so loud

- he’s the best contradiction there is because he can be the most annoying person in the room but the one person in the world who could make you smile in no time

- he knows how to get college stress off your mind 

- and he encourages you to do the best you can

- he knows he likes to distract you, but he knows when you shouldn’t be distracted

- if he notices you’ve been studying all day and haven’t eaten, he brings you your favorite cup noodle or fast food or whatever he can find to your room

- if you’re in the library and can’t eat, he forces you out

- sometimes he’d text you reminders to take care of yourself or for simple things

- you’d respond jokingly saying “dont forget to breath” in a snarky-stressed way

- but lets be real, when he’s sick or not taking care of himself, he can either be the most mature/quiet person about it or the biggest baby

- you’d basically coddle him when he’s sick because he’s a big baby

- but as a result, whenever your sick, he showers you in compliments for being “so strong” and would bring whatever he thinks you need

- he’d also be the boyfriend who’d buy you tampons if you really need it wo shame

- he’d proudly parade you around during pub crawls and events - like your relationship would no way be secret, everyone would know

- if he’s drunk, all he looks for is you

- if he’s sober, he talks about your accomplishments and acts like you just won the nobel peace prize

- he’d pick you up from every major assesment, and vice versa

- basically i want a college sehun in my life

Here’s why I want my parents dead /hj

REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE like I know hating your parents if they aren’t overtly abusive (and even if they are it’s only mildly) like bruh, tempted to list out my parents “abuse” here. also like bruh, i’m fine rn, i’ve just been hating them for a while

This isn’t fully everything ever, it’s just an overview and I don’t think it touches the main problems enough (also I don’t give a lot of examples because there’s too many and I don’t have the will to write em all,and i’ve still overviewing everything)

-never respect my wishes if it goes against theirs (e.x. please leave me alone, can i go outside?, can I leave and go upstairs?)

             this is a big one

-don’t respect my privacy (in weird ways too, like my dad opening the door to scare me when i’m changing) and making fun of it too

          plus in normal ways like reading my journals or never knocking no matter how many times i tell them to

-making fun of me on purpose to get me upset, even when i ask them to stop

-getting suddenly and violently angry (dad):

           often unreasonably and quickly

          my dad curses people out under his breath, as a sign he’s going to get violent

          has broken things, SUCH AS MY WHOLE ASS PHONE by throwing it on the ground does punch things, generally not people, e.x. walls, but not that hard. he has punched me

          DOES to people- slap, push (this one especially, just last week he did), throw, scratch

          is destructive to other’s property (e.x. ripping up THEIR papers)

          refuses to listen to suggestions like, in the future, trying to calm down, or writing out his anger instead or seeking therapy

          been like this towards me since i was 6-7 years old

          it can escalate from anything

          will degrade you and insult you, if you ever say anything back (even in a non-angry situation, will grow even angrier/get very angry)

          makes you feel awful

          can last for hours and never accomplishes anything apart from further degrading yourself

          if you don’t give the exact answer he wants, will get even angrier

             I’m obviously terrified of him

               Swears at me, except they censor me so much they could probably kill me if I ever swore so that exacerbates the fear of it

          after the fact continuosly denies it

-my dad also:

           always demands respect

          always plays the victim and complains about how we dislike him

          never admits his mistakes

          is awful to my little sister, randomly, even when she’s being perfectly fine

-my mother and father’s relationship

             they openly and mean to each other. they never display affection and joke about divorcing

             sometimes dad yells at mom for a while, it’s obvious he thinks he’s superior to her and belittles her intelligence

             they are sometimes violent, but not often, and not overtly, more violent towards objects than each other when fighting with each other

             they do get in fights often (see: my dad’s belief in his superiority)

-openess with them

             there is none. they constantly criticize any self expression, make all subjects taboo, get angry over nothing and overall make me terrified of talking to them, then get all sad about “why don’t you tell us“ but if I try to express anything, even if they don’t get angry, they’ll store it in their heads and then later keep using it against me. “You said we were bad parents, do you not want to eat our food?“ “You said you were unmotivated, you don’t even have a reason to be sad.“ (said in an challenging, mean way)

-my self esteem

-my dad, physically (TO BE CLEAR I don’t think my dad in any way in trying to do anything sexual, i’m just saying he never respects my boundaries and here are some things he thinks are “perfectly fine” that he does, also this might be a bit disconnected sounding, i’m just so tired

          commenting on my weight/appearance (mom too)

             commenting on what i’m wearing, especially teasing me if it’s something out of the usual, as if i’m not insecure enough already

             dictating what i wear if they don’t like what i’m wearing

             commenting (negatively) on my mom’s weight a lot (to be fair, they both joke about being old and him balding and a little about him being fat so this one isn’t as bad apart form the fact that i’m skinnier so he “jokes” a lot about how i’m like a skinnier version of her)

                fatso called the girl in the video

             forces me to hug and kiss him, often only giving my phone back or treats luke donuts if I kiss him, even if I’ve expressed i’m uncomfortable (just does this a lot and i hate it)

-the past

             have yelled for me for no reason since i was young

             i don’t remember ever liking my dad (wait, before 6 years of age i remember liking him and before I was 9 i remember not hating him at all times)

             i continously try to trust them again, then they break me

               they were never open with me and taught me to be ashamed of myself which led to bad social relations later, which i’m only now breaking out of

-confiscation and lack of trust

               always taking my stuff so i can’t rely on what they’ll black mail me with, no “excuse” is valid to keep it (ex. I want to communicate w/friends or I LITERALLY HAVE INSOMNIA AND CAN’T SLEEP WITHOUT LISTENING TO MUSIC); during my worst days, when I was really suicidal i remember not having my phone for a long time which led to me being left behind and further isolating myself which, y’know spiralled

               I can go on and on about how they never value my voice but i’m sort of running out of steam

               they also never trust my statements, always cast me as the cause-r of something (luckily they’re fair and don’t punish me for it if I insist I didn’t do it, but the fact i have to really advocate for my innocence and am constantly suspected just is not great, and even jokingly, i hate attention, their attention)

                 There’s more but i think i’m done for now

-constantly bother me (i know this is nitpicking, i’m just trying to get everything out, and some of these have more layers than i’m willing to express)

               intentionally sabotaging

               even if i ask them to go away

               try to annoy me when ever i see them, even if i’ve asked them not too, and really make me avoid everything even more (you have to go through where they usually are to get out and that means y’know what)

               singing

               yelling and stepping loudly (which makes me scared my dad is mad all the time)

               always teasing and judging

-mother dearest

               very aggressive

               VERY controlling

               generally boring

               always invades privacy, more of a nosy person, but, in a way, better than dad

               she can get violent too and screams but it’s less often but can get very intense sometimes, generally it’s more of taking away my stuff and telling me to give up (which, the telling me to give up, my dad does too)

-lack of independence

                THIS ONE IS HUGE. my parents are very controlling and so even a little freedom excites me and they use my lack of experience as a sword against me, and that makes it eve harder for me to do anything when I’m constantly fighting restrictions and my brains can’t distinguish bad restrictions from schoolwork restrictions

-shitty world view

               just a bad biased view of the world, i really don’t want to elaborate, beyond the general sense they deserve to be respected for being parents a conservative-type view, also don’t have basic sense of morality, as in sympathy, for everyone, and instead do the whole us|them thing with their politics, the only problem is that we’re immigrants which is why they vote democrat

-grandparents

                 are visiting, they are also unhygienic, to always be obeyed, generally judgemental, and intentionally old, and taking up both of my rooms, overall i don’t like any of them, my father’s mom is alright though

-generally shaming me

And otherwise everything is generally going to shit, my social life (though I saved it somewhat for ONE person), my mental/emotional health, my exercise, motivation for anything, just the way the house is set up, my grandparents are here, how i’m doing in school.

I should write the thesis and really flesh this out well but I’ll tell you what: ultimately my parents are selfish people who don’t consider me my own entity but more as themselves and my achievements combined. ANd even if you love me, which I don’t doubt, I don’t have to love you back, and that doesn’t excuse your shittiness, dad. I fucking hate you. (yes. i’m grateful for the money, house, generally not obviously abusive childhood, food, stuff, bed, phone, etc. you have provided, but that doesn’t cancel out your misdeeds, it just coexists next to it)

Like is it SO bad for me to blame SOME of my issues with them? BUT NO if I ever bring up how they did x so i did y. I did y ON PURPOSE to UPSET THEM and i can’t hold them accountable, i’m just blaming them, even if I’m genuinely trying to explain my issues the way I understand them.

idr if you can edit tumblr documents, and even if you can, i’m not going to, i’ll just add to this with comments, to preserve the integrity, not that anyone will or should read this, but i’ll probably come back to it

Flame-Finale

Masterlist

The next morning was filled with room-service waffles and orange juice and endless Grayson kisses. Watching you walk out of the bathroom in just a small white towel and dripping wet hair made him lose his mind. Soon enough, the two of you were going at it again on the bed - rushing through to be able to check out by 11. If he was being honest, Grayson didn’t want to leave - he wanted to pay for another night here with you. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. 

Ethan and Grayson had to be home Sunday evening for a family dinner welcoming them home for the holidays. So, as the two of them slid their overnight bags into Grayson’s car, he paused for a moment. 

“Are you going home?” He questioned his beautiful girl who was about to slide into the passenger seat. 

“Yea, eventually.” You nodded, biting your lower lip. “My parents are out of town for the next two weeks, so I’m not leaving until the actual week of Christmas.”

Grayson got into the car, turning the heat on full blast as you joined him. “You’re gonna be here all alone?” He stuck his lower lip out in a pout and slowly took off back to campus. “That’s no good.”

“It’s really okay, Gray.” You shrugged, reaching over to rest your hand on his thigh. No, being in the dorms alone for two weeks wasn’t necessarily ideal, but neither was going home to an empty house - or going home at all. 

“I don’t think so.” He rolled his eyes, letting you know it really wasn’t okay with him. The last thing he wanted was to drive home, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see you for an entire month, and know you were here all alone. “What if you came home with me… just until you have to leave?”

“Seriously?” With wide eyes, you turned your body to face him. Grayson had a small smile tugging on his lips as he thought about bringing you home to meet his family. 

“I mean - why not?” He chewed on his inner cheek for a moment, “I need to call my mom and see what Ethan thinks, but I don’t see why it would be a problem.”

“Wow… yeah… that would be great.” Squeezing his hand for a second before settling back into your seet, you let out a puff of air. In your past relationships, meeting the parents was something you aggressively avoided. In fact, you often broke off relationships if someone tried to bring you into their family. With Grayson, you desperately wanted to meet his family.

--

“You’re really going to bring her home after just a few days of being back together?” Ethan gawked at his younger brother who had just gotten off the phone with their mom.

“Mom seems pretty excited, Ethan.” Stuffing some socks into the top of his suitcase, Grayson felt himself getting angry. Things felt so good with you that he almost forgot about his relationship with Ethan. “I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.”

“Of course mom’s excited, she was worried you’d never find a girl.” Ethan scoffed, zipping up his suitcase and getting started on his toiletry bag. He was trying to find a way to see he didn't want you to come without actually saying it. “It’s just - our traditions have never included her… so why should we change everything now?”

“Because I love her?” Grayson questioned as if Ethan was a complete idiot. “That’s what happens with families, dude - they grow because you add more people you love.” Shaking his head in disbelief. “She’s coming - I’m not leaving her here alone. If you’re going to be a fucking dick, you can pretend I don’t exist for the next two weeks.”

“Fine - sheesh.” Ethan held up his hands in defense, knowing his brother was still on the edge of hating him. The last thing he wanted to do was cause more discourse between the two of them. “I’ll play nice.”

While the boys were arguing, you were nervously packing nearly your entire closet. You weren’t sure what to bring to a boyfriend’s house and you really weren’t sure what you would even need. So, in that case - you just decided to bring as much as you could. You were going to be gone from school for an entire month. 

Sure, the thought of being in a house with Ethan and Grayson for two weeks did make you nervous, but you hoped the three of you had gotten over the issues. 

-

Five hours and a dozen pit stops later, the three of you were finally pulling into the Dolan’s childhood home. Right away, you noticed how much more welcoming the place was than your house - things were decorated personally, not like every other house in the neighborhood. Grayson turned around to say something to you, but before he could, his mom was throwing open your door with a big smile on her face. 

“You must be Logan!” Soft blonde hair and warm eyes instantly soothed your nerves - she was clearly happy to see you. 

“Hi - yes!” You nodded, smiling widely. “It’s so good to meet you.” She let you get out of the car before engulfing you in a hug that was quickly interrupted by Grayson clearing his throat. 

“Nice to see you too, mom.” He laughed teasingly, pulling his mom away from you into his arms for a second. 

“Oh, shh…” She shoved her son playfully, quickly moving to give Ethan a kiss on the cheek. “You know I love you boys, but I just couldn’t wait to see the woman who captured Grayson’s heart!”

For the first time in a while, you felt your cheeks heat up - you felt so happy to be here and welcomed immediately. 

-

“I trust the two of you to behave in here since Ethan will be sleeping in here too.” Lisa winked playfully as she helped the two of you into the twins’ shared bedroom. “Cameron - my daughter - is also bringing a friend home so we can’t spare the guest bedroom this time.”

“Oh, that’s okay - I don’t mind.” You smiled softly, sitting down on the edge of Grayson’s bed as Lisa quietly headed back downstairs. Ethan was nowhere to be found. 

“I get to share a normal sized bed with you for two whole weeks?” You giggled, reaching for your boyfriend who willingly came to stand between your legs before leaning down to capture your lips in his. 

“Aw, come on!” Ethan gagged as he entered his bedroom, he knew you’d be sleeping in here, but he really hoped he didn’t have to watch you two suck face for fourteen days. 

“Sorry, E.” Grayson laughed, pulling away from you slightly before unzipping his suitcase and starting to unpack.

-

The next two weeks honestly flew by - spending every night pressed tightly up against your man was a dream come true. Every meal was phenomenal and you truly felt like family here. You, Cameron, and her friend from college had gotten along so well, Grayson was kind of jealous. Not to mention how much Lisa adored you - she constantly told Grayson how proud she was of him for getting someone like you. It was all driving Ethan nuts. He’d be lying if he said the thought of telling everyone what the two of you had done hadn’t crossed his mine. Unfortunately, he knew it wouldn’t end the way he wanted it to. 

There was no denying that Ethan was 80% in the wrong in the situation and you the other 20%. He didn’t want to risk his entire family hating him just so he could have a few minutes of satisfaction. So he withheld, keeping his comments in for two entire weeks, just silently counting down the days until you flew home. 

“We are so sad to see you go.” Lisa sighed before hugging you to her tightly, Cameron did the same before she helped you load your suitcase into the twins’ car. “I hope you come back sooner than later..”

“I hope so too - thank you all so much for welcoming me.” You smiled softly, a bit of a gasp leaving your mouth as Ethan side hugged you - mainly for show. “Have a merry Christmas you all!” As you slipped into the car with Grayson, you let out a shaky sigh. There was about a thirty minute drive to the airport, but you wished it was never ending. 

“You ok?” Grayson turned his head to you as he pulled out of the driveway. He could hear your shaky breathing from his seat. 

“I’m okay.” Nodding and swallowing the lump in your throat. “Just really don’t want to leave, if I’m being honest.”

“I don’t want you to either.” Grayson sighed, reaching a hand over to lace into yours. “You know your parents will be excited to see you.”

Simply nodding, knowing he was right - at least about your mom. She had called as soon as they had gotten back from their vacation, asking when you’d be coming home. You didn’t mention where you were, knowing it would upset your very conservative parents. IF you were being honest, you weren’t all that excited for Christmas, Grayson and you had decided to exchange gifts when you got back to school so you didn’t have to travel with something on a plane. 

“Here we are…” Grayson muttered, letting out a puff of air as he looked over at you. He didn’t want to see you go… he wasn’t sure he could handle not seeing you for two weeks. 

“I am going to miss you like a bitch.” You laughed, reaching over the console to hug him to you tightly. “Thank you so much for the last two weeks… I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Log.” He whispered, pulling your face to his and kissing you passionately. “Text me every day and I will see you in just a few short weeks.” 

He kissed you again before you got out of the car, his hand waving somberly as you finally drug your feet into the airport. Grayson Dolan had changed your entire world in just one semester - you couldn’t wait to see what happened in the next one.

In order for a nation to survive, two critical emotions must be controlled. Contrary to popular belief, these emotions are not fear and greed—although these are very important to control, as well. Rather, it’s masculine aggression and feminine vanity that must be controlled…and we are doing a terrible job at this.

Unfortunately, over the past 70 years, we’ve seen sex roles and gender dynamics completely turned on their heads. Rather than men and women working together to create better relationships, more functional families, and more powerful countries, we’ve been pit against one another by toxic ideologies and ruthless demagogues.

It is not enough to simply know what is happening, however—we must know precisely how it’s happening, step by step, and more importantly, WHY it’s happening. In this article, I will explore why our society has gone so downhill so fast, and potential solutions we can integrate to remedy it (if we can save it, at all).

The Two Forces

As I said previously, there are two very delicate forces which must constantly be counter-balancing one another, and anytime they grow unbalanced, there will be chaos. These two forces are, of course, masculine aggression and feminine vanity. Too much masculine aggression, and a country becomes war-torn, unable to run itself or stay stable long enough to produce any sort of civilization (think the Middle East).

Too much feminine vanity, however, and the opposite occurs. Men become reclusive, because women become far too difficult to deal with. This is why we’ve seen the rise of the sigma male over the past 20 years—men who refuse to attach themselves to any sort of social hierarchy. They’re not alpha, beta, or omega. They just do as they do, without adhering to any sort of social group or workplace hierarchy.

As feminine vanity grows excessive, female hypergamy is given reign to run loose. Rather than men and women developing healthy relationships with one another, women become so conceited that they refuse to “settle” for anyone less than an alpha male Chad Thundercock, and thus we have a surplus of angry, bitter women who hit the wall at 30 and end up childless and alone.

It’s so obvious that it should go without saying, that we are currently in a serious imbalance. For far too long, masculine aggression has been hampered and stomped down by our effeminate school system, our brainwashing devices (aka TV’s), and our mass media control system. All the while, these things have encouraged women to do as they please, without any consequences or thought of their actions on a larger, societal scale.

Restoring the Balance

Balance will be restored, one way or another. There are only two ways for this imbalance to possibly be restored, and most men here will acknowledge, at least implicitly, that this is the case:

Men in OTHER COUNTRIES restore the balance (by coming here en masse)

Men in THIS COUNTRY restore the balance (by not being pussies)

Those are the only two options. There is no third option, where women somehow magically stop giving men 500,000 shit tests a day and step down to become good, faithful girlfriends, wives, and mothers. This will not happen. When a society reaches this critical imbalance, only one of two things can happen.

Of course, we all know what the elites (oy vey!) are pushing for. They want to bring millions of aggressive, young, fighting-age men to this country, to supposedly help combat “population decline.” We all know that this is complete horse shit, and that their true motive is to destroy America.

Even so, with the full force of the elites raining down upon us, there is hope. Over the past two years, we’ve seen more masculine energy emerge and come to the front of our socio-political battlegrounds than arguably any other time in history. For the first time in the past 70 years, men are reclaiming their manhood.

Let me reiterate that this is the only option. There is no magical world where everything just works out great, where we have millions of violent, aggressive 20-something-year-old men come into this country, and we retain our values as an Anglo-Saxon country. No. This will not happen. We either get our acts together, collectively, as men, or we watch our nation burn.

The Path Forward (2018-2020)

The next two years are of critical importance. We have collectively, successfully memed the most brutally alpha and pro-American president into office arguably since Ronald Reagan. This is not an opportunity that we can afford to squander—we must all begin proactively restoring the balance of masculinity in this country, from the top down, otherwise our nation will perish to globalists and their dumb, but useful allies.

There will be resistance, as there is whenever masculinity tries to assert itself. Pay no attention to this resistance. Simply follow the advice which the manosphere advocates for:

Create an income independent of a massive, bureaucratic, globalist corporation

Increase your testosterone levels (start by avoiding foods that kill testosterone)

Lift weights, and become physically able to stand up for yourself

Proactively participate in the upcoming midterms, and the Presidential Election of 2020

Do everything you can to red pill those who are ready (emphasis on them being ready)

If we, collectively, as a group of thousands of like-minded men all across the nation can successfully pull this off, we will see a resurgence of economic, political, and social growth which will have been unprecedented.

If we do not pull it off however, and our nation succumbs to the manipulations of the elite, a far more grim and sinister future will play out.

The Alternative

If we do not successfully reclaim the balance of masculine aggression and feminine vanity in this country, all will be lost, and we will be forced to either live through hell, or leave our homelands. Here’s what to expect over the next decade or so, if a social justice warrior is elected President in 2020, and we lose the culture wars:

Increasing surveillance over the internet

More thought crime policies instituted into law

The figurative castration of men all across the country

Eventual race wars, or religious wars, spurred on primarily by Islamic migrants

This is non-negotiable. If we lose the culture wars to SJW’s over the next several years, we will begin to see lobbying to shut down any and all manosphere websites dedicated to spreading the truth. We have already seen PayPal, YouTube, Amazon, Facebook, Twitter, and Google begin to censor people like Roosh, Alex Jones, Donald Trump, and other conservative/red pilled speakers. We cannot afford to stand this any longer.

If we lose these mediums to the globalists, they will easily gain the support of the public to institute thought crime policies into our legal system. You have a book by Bronze Age Pervert, that Amazon can track from your order history? NAZI SCUM! You’re going to prison. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t actually hurt anyone in any way shape or form, because you had an opinion that the globalists dislike.

As this begins to happen, men will self-imprison all over the nation. Some will fight, of course, and maybe win (if we’re lucky). Others will leave and attempt to gain citizenship in more male-friendly countries such as Denmark, Austria, and Poland. The rest will be forced to hang their heads in perpetual shame.

Eventually, as the population of third world migrants explodes, and tribalism is exacerbated by the polarizing media, we will begin to see rampant terrorist attacks, which are already happening in Germany, The UK, and other nations around the cucked European Union. Inevitably, this will end in a civil war.

It’s Our Choice

I have presented to you the only two choices that we have, and to me, the decision is quite simple. We can either sit around passively, and squabble amongst ourselves over stupid theories and philosophies, or we can take action to better ourselves and improve the stance of our nation.

The choice is clear to me. We either succumb to globalist propaganda, see the death of masculinity in the West, and see freedom of speech die as it is destined to do, or we fight back and create a better future. Some may say this is melodramatic. I would say that a mere cursory glance at history will prove otherwise.

Read Next: Cultural Collapse Theory: The 7 Steps That Lead To A Complete Culture Decline

It was Joe’s first date with Mary. He asked her what she wanted in life and she replied, “I want to establish my career. That’s the most important thing to me right now.” Undeterred that she had no need for a man in her life, Joe entertained her with enough funny stories and cocky statements that she soon allowed him to lightly pet her forearm.

At the end of the date, he locked arms with her on the walk to the subway station, when two Middle Eastern men on scooter patrol accosted them and said they were forbidden to touch. “This is Sharia zone,” they said in heavily accented English, in front of a Halal butcher shop. Joe and Mary felt bad that they offended the two men, because they were trained in school to respect all religions but that of their ancestors. One of the first things they learned was that their white skin gave them extra privilege in life which must be consciously restrained at all times. Even if they happened to disagree with the two men, they could not verbally object because of anti-hate laws that would put them in jail for religious discrimination. They unlocked arms and maintained a distance of three feet from each other.

Unfortunately for Joe, Mary did not want to go out with him again, but seven years later he did receive a message from her on Facebook saying hello. She became vice president of a company, but could not find a man equal to her station since women now made 25% more than men on average. Joe had long left the country and moved to Thailand, where he married a young Thai girl and had three children. He had no plans on returning to his country, America.

If cultural collapse occurs in the way I will now describe, the above scenario will be the rule within a few decades. The Western world is being colonized in reverse, not by weapons or hard power, but through a combination of progressivism and low reproductive rates. These two factors will lead to a complete cultural collapse of many Western nations within the next 200 years. This theory will show the most likely mechanism that it will proceed in America, Canada, UK, Scandinavia, and Western Europe.

What Is A Cultural Collapse?

Cultural collapse is the decline, decay, or disappearance of a native population’s rituals, habits, interpersonal communication, relationships, art, and language. It coincides with a relative decline of population compared to outside groups. National identity and group identification will be lost while revisionist history will be applied to demonize or find fault with the native population. Cultural collapse is not to be confused with economic or state collapse. A nation that suffers from a cultural collapse can still be economically productive and have a working government.

First I will share a brief summary of the cultural collapse progression before explaining them in more detail. Then I will discuss where I see many countries along its path.

The Cultural Collapse Progression

1. Removal of religious narrative from people’s lives, replaced by a treadmill of scientific and technological “progress.”

2. Elimination of traditional sex roles through feminism, gender equality, political correctness, cultural Marxism, and socialism.

3. Delay or abstainment of family formation by women to pursue careerist lifestyles while men wait in confused limbo.

4. Decreasing birth rate among native population.

5. Government enactment of open immigration policies to prevent economic collapse.

6. Immigrant refusal to fully acclimate, forcing host culture to adopt external rituals and beliefs while being out-reproduced.

7. Natives becoming marginalized in their own country.

1. Removal of religious narrative

Religion has been a powerful restraint for millennia in preventing humans from pursuing their base desires and narcissistic tendencies so that they satisfy a god. Family formation is the central unit of most religions, possibly because children increase membership at zero marginal cost to the church (i.e. they don’t need to be recruited).

Religion may promote scientific ignorance, but it facilitates reproduction by giving people a narrative that places family near the center of their existence.[1] [2] [3] After the Enlightenment, the rapid advance of science and its logical but nihilistic explanations into the universe have removed the religious narrative and replaced it with an empty narrative of scientific progress, knowledge, and technology, which act as a restraint and hindrance to family formation, allowing people to pursue individual goals of wealth accumulation or hedonistic pleasure seeking.[4] As of now, there has not been a single non-religious population that has been able to reproduce above the death rate.[5]

Even though many people today claim to believe in god, they may not step inside a church but once or twice a year for special holidays. Religion went from being a lifestyle, a manual for living, to something that is thought about in passing.

2. Elimination of traditional sex roles

Once religion no longer plays a role in people’s lives, the stage is set to fracture male-female bonding. It is collectively attacked by several ideologies stemming from the beliefs of Cultural Marxist theory, which serve to accomplish one common end: destruction of the family unit so that citizens are dependent on the state. They achieve this goal through the marginalization of men and their role in society under the banner of “equality.”[6] With feminism pushed to the forefront of this umbrella movement, the drive for equality ends up being a power grab by women.[7] This attack is performed on a range of fronts:

medicating boys from a young age with ADHD drugs to eradicate displays of masculinity[8]

shaming of men for having direct sexual interest in attractive and fertile women

criminalization of normal male behavior by redefining some instances of consensual sex as rape[9]

imprisonment of unemployed fathers for non-payment of child support, rendering them destitute and unable to be a part of their children’s lives[10]

taxation of men at higher rates for redistribution to women[11] [12]

promotion of single mother and homosexual lifestyles over that of the nuclear family[13] [14]

The end result is that men, confused about their identify and averse to state punishment from sexual harassment, “date rape,” and divorce proceedings, make a rational decision to wait on the sidelines.[15] Women, still not happy with the increased power given to them, continue their assault on men by instructing them to “man up” into what has become an unfair deal—marriage. The elevation of women above men is allowed by corporations, which adopt “girl power” marketing to expand their consumer base and increase profits.[16] [17] Governments also allow it because it increases their tax revenue. Because there is money to be made with women working and becoming consumers, there is no effort by the elite to halt this development.

3. Women begin to place career above family

At the same time men are emasculated as mere “sperm donors,” women are encouraged to adopt the career goals, mannerisms, and competitive lifestyles of men, inevitably causing them to delay marriage, often into an age where they can no longer find suitable husbands who have more resources than themselves. [18] [19] [20] [21] The average woman will find it exceedingly difficult to balance career and family, and since she has no concern of getting “fired” from her family, who she may see as a hindrance to her career goals, she will devote an increasing proportion of time into her job.

Female income, in aggregate, will soon match or exceed that of men.[22] [23] [24] A key reason that women historically got married was to be economically provided for, but this reason will no longer persist and women will feel less pressure or motivation to marry. The burgeoning spinster population will simply be a money-making opportunity for corporations to market to an increasing population of lonely women. Cat and small dog sales will rise.

Women succumb to their primal sexual and materialistic urges to live the “Sex and the City” lifestyle full of fine dining, casual sex, technological bliss, and general gluttony without learning traditional household skills or feminine qualities that would make them attractive wives.[25] [26] Men adapt to careerist women in a rational way by doing the following:

to sate their natural sexual desires, men allow their income to lower since economic stability no longer provides a draw to women in their prime[27]

they mimic “alpha male” social behavior to get laid with women who, without having an urgent need for a man’s monetary resources to survive, can choose men based on confidence, aesthetics, and general entertainment value[28]

they withdraw into a world of video games and the internet, satisfying their own base desires for play and simulated hunting[29] [30]

Careerist women who decide to marry will do so in a hurried rush around 30 because they fear growing old alone, but since they are well past their fertility peak[31], they may find it difficult to reproduce. In the event of successful reproduction at such a later age, fewer children can be born before biological infertility, limiting family size compared to the historical past.

4. Birth rates decrease among native population

The stage is now set for the death rate to outstrip the birth rate. This creates a demographic cliff where there is a growing population of non-working elderly relative to able-bodied younger workers. Two problems result:

Not enough tax revenue is supplied by the working population in order to provide for the elderly’s medical and social retirement needs.[32] Borrowing can only temporarily maintain these entitlements.

Decrease of economic activity since more people are dying than buying.[33]

No modern nation has figured out how to substantially raise birth rates among native populations. The most successful effort has been done in France, but that has still kept the birth rate among French-born women just under the replacement rate (2.08 vs 2.1).[34] The easiest and fastest way to solve this double-edged problem is to promote mass immigration of non-elderly individuals who will work, spend, and procreate at rates greater than natives.[35]

A replenishing supply of births are necessary to create taxpayers, workers, entrepreneurs, and consumers in order to maintain the nation’s economic development.[36] While many claim that the planet is suffering from “overpopulation,” an economic collapse is inevitable for those countries who do not increase their population at steady rates.

5. Large influx of immigration

An aging population without youthful refilling will cause a scarcity of labor, increasing that labor’s price. Corporate elites will now lobby governments for immigration reform to relieve this upward pressure on wages.[37] [38] At the same time, the modern mantra of sustained GDP growth puts pressure on politicians for dissemination of favorable economic growth data to aid in their re-elections. The simplest way to increase GDP without innovation or development of industry is to expand the population. Both corporate and political elites now have their goals in alignment where the easiest solution becomes immigration.[39] [40]

While politicians hem and haw about designing permanent immigration policies, immigrants continue to settle within the nation.[41] The national birth rate problem is essentially solved overnight, as it’s much easier to drain third-world nations of its starry-eyed population with enticements of living in the first-world than it is to encourage the native women to reproduce. (Lateral immigration from one first-world nation to another is so relatively insignificant that the niche term ‘expatriation’ has been developed to describe it). Native women will show a stubborn resistance at any suggestion they should create families, much preferring a relatively responsibility-free lifestyle of sexual variety, casual internet dating via mobile apps, consumer excess, and comfortable high-paying jobs in air conditioned offices.[42] [43]

Immigrants will almost always come from societies that are more religious and, in the case of Islam with regard to European immigration, far more scientifically primitive and rigid in its customs.[44]

6. Sanitization of host culture coincides with increase in immigrant power

While many adult immigrants will feel gracious at the opportunity to live in a more prosperous nation, others will soon feel resentment that they are forced to work menial jobs in a country that is far more expensive than their own.[45] [46] [47] [48] [49] The majority of them remain in lower economic classes, living in poor “immigrant communities” where they can speak their own language, find their own homeland foods, and follow their own customs or religion.

Instead of breaking out of their foreigner communities, immigrants seek to expand it by organizing. They form local groups and civic organizations to teach natives better ways to understand and serve immigrant populations. They will be eager to publicize cases where immigrants have been insulted by insensitive natives or treated unfairly by police authorities in the case of petty crime.[50] [51] [52] [53] [54] [55] School curriculums may be changed to promote diversity or multiculturalism, at great expense to the native culture.[56] Concessions will be made not to offend immigrants.[57] A continual stream of outrages will be found and this will feed the power of the organizations and create a state within a state where native elites become fearful of applying laws to immigrants.[58]

7. Destruction of native culture

This step has not yet happened in any first-world nation, so I will predict it based on logically extending known events I have already described.

Local elites will give lip service to immigrant groups for votes but will be slow to give them real state or economic power. Citizenship rules may even be tightened to prevent immigrants from being elected. The elites will be mostly insulated from the cultural crises in their isolated communities, private schools, and social clubs, where they can continue to incubate their own sub-culture without outside influence. At the same time, they will make speeches and enact polices to force native citizens to accept multiculturalism and blind immigration. Anti-hate and anti-discrimination laws will be more vigorously enforced than other more serious crimes. Police will monitor social networking to identify those who make statements against protected classes.

Cultural decline begins in earnest when the natives feel shame or guilt for who they are, their history, their way of life, and where their ancestors came from. They will let immigrant groups criticize their customs without protest, or they simply embrace immigrant customs instead with religious conversion and interethnic marriages. Nationalistic pride will be condemned as a “far-right” phenomenon and popular nationalistic politicians will be compared to Hitler. Natives learn the art of self-censorship, limiting the range of their speech and expressions, and soon only the elderly can speak the truths of the cultural decline while a younger multiculturalist within earshot attributes such frankness to senility or racist nostalgia.

With the already entrenched environment of political correctness (see stage 2), the local culture becomes a sort of “world” culture that can be declared tolerant and progressive as long as there is a lack of criticism against immigrants, multiculturalism, and their combined influence. All cultural identity will eventually be lost, and to be “American” or “British,” for example, will no longer have modern meaning from a sociological perspective. Native traditions will be eradicated and a cultural mixing will take place where citizens from one world nation will be nearly identical in behavior, thought, and consumer tastes to citizens of another. Once a collapse occurs, it cannot be reversed. The nation’s cultural heritage will be forever lost.

I want to now take a brief look at six different countries and see where they are along the cultural collapse progression…

Russia

This is an interesting case because, up to recently, we saw very low birth rates not due to progressive ideals but from a rough transition to capitalism in the 1990’s and a high male mortality from alcoholism.[59] [60] To help sustain its population, Russia is readily accepting immigrants from Central Asian regions, treating them like second-class citizens and refusing to make any accommodations away from the ethnic Russian way of life. Even police authorities turn a blind eye when local skinhead groups attack immigrants.[61] In addition, Russia has also shown no tolerance to homosexual or progressive groups,[62] stunting their negative effects upon the culture. The birth rate has risen in recent years to levels seen in Western Europe but it’s still not above the death rate. Russia will see a population collapse before a cultural one.

Likelihood of 50-year cultural collapse: Very low

Brazil

We’re seeing rapid movement through stages 2 and 3, where progressive ideology based on the American model is becoming adopted and a large poor population ensure progressive politicians will continue to remain in power with promises of economic redistribution.[63] [64] [65] Within 15 years we should see a sharp drop in birth rates and a relaxation of immigration laws.

Likelihood of 50-year cultural collapse: Moderate

America

Some could argue that America is currently experiencing a cultural collapse. It always had a fragile culture because of its immigrant foundings, but immigrants of the past (including my own parents) rapidly acclimated into the host culture to create a sense of national pride around an ethic of hard work and shared democratic values. This is being eroded as a fem-centric culture rises in its place, with its focus on trends, celebrities, homosexuality, multiculturalism, and male-bashing. Natives have become pleasure seekers with little inclination to reproduction during their years of peak fertility.[66]

Likelihood of 50-year cultural collapse: Very high

England

While America always had high amounts of immigration, and therefore a system of integration, England is newer to the game. In the past 20 years, they have massively ramped up their immigration efforts.[67] A visit to London will confirm that the native British are slowly becoming minorities, with their iconic red telephone booths left undisturbed purely for tourist photo opportunities. Approximately 5% of the English population is now Muslim.[68] Instead of acclimatizing, they are achieving early success in creating zones with Sharia law.[69] The English elite, in response, is jailing natives under stringent anti-race laws.[70] England had a highly successful immigration story with Polish immigrants who eagerly acclimated to English culture, but have opened the doors to other peoples who don’t want to integrate.[71]

Likelihood of 50-year cultural collapse: Very high

Sweden

Sweden is experiencing a similar immigration situation to England, but they possess a higher amount of self-shame and white guilt. Instead of allowing immigrants who could work in the Swedish economy, they are encouraging migration of asylum seekers who have been made destitute by war. These immigrants enter Sweden and immediately receive social benefits. In effect, Sweden is welcoming the least economically productive people in the world.[72] The immigrants will produce little or no economic benefit, and may even worsen Sweden’s economy. Immigrants are turning some parts of Sweden, such as the Rosengard area of Malmo, into a ghetto.[73]

Likelihood of 50-year cultural collapse: Very high

Poland

From my one and half years of living in Poland, I have seen a moderate level of progressive ideological creep, careerism among women, hedonism, and idolation of Western values, particularly out of England, where a large percentage of the Polish population have emigrated for work. Younger Poles may not act much different from their Western counterparts in their party lifestyle behavior, but there nonetheless remains a tenuous maintenance of traditional sex roles. Women of fertile age are pursuing relationships over one-night stands, but careerism is causing them to stall family formation. This puts a downward pressure on birth rates, which stems from significant numbers of fertile young women emigrating to countries like the UK and USA, along with continued economic uncertainties faced from transitioning to capitalism[74]. As Europe’s “least multicultural” nation, Poland has long been hesitant to accept immigrants, but this has recently changed and they are encouraging migrants.[75]  To its credit, it is seeking first-world entrepreneurs instead of low skilled laborers or asylum seekers. Its cultural fate will be an interesting development in the years to come, but the prognosis will be more negative as long as its young people are eager to leave the homeland.

Likelihood of 50-year cultural collapse: Possible

Poland and Russia show the limitations of Cultural Collapse Theory in that it best applies to first-world nations with highly developed economies. They have low birth rates but not through the mechanism I described, though if they adopt a more Western ideological track like Brazil, I expect to see the same outcome that is befalling England or Sweden.

There can be many paths to cultural destruction, and those nations with the most similarities will gravitate towards the same path, just like how Eastern European nations are suffering low birth rates because of mass emigration due to being introduced into the European Union.

How To Stop Cultural Collapse

Maintaining native birth rates while preventing the elite from allowing immigrant labor is the most effective means at preventing cultural collapse. Since multiculturalism is an experiment with no proven efficacy, a culture can only be maintained by a relatively homogenous group who identify with each other. When that homogeneity breaks down and one citizen looks to the next and does not see a person with the same values as himself, the culture falls in dis-repair as native citizens begin to lose a shared means of communication and identity. Once the percentage of the immigrant population crosses a certain threshold (perhaps 15%), the decline will pick up in pace and cultural breakdown will be readily apparent to all observers.

Current policies to solve low birth rates through immigration is a short-term fix with dire long-term consequences. In effect, it’s a Trojan-horse prescription of irreversible cultural destruction. A state must prevent itself from entering the position where mass immigration is considered a solution by blocking progressive ideologies from taking hold. One way this can be done is through the promotion of a state-sponsored religion which encourages the nuclear family instead of single motherhood and homosexuality. However, introducing religion as a mainstay of citizen life in the post-enlightenment era may be impossible.

We must consider that the scientific era is an evolutionary maladaptive feature of humanity that natural selection will accordingly punish (i.e. those who are anti-religious and pro-science will simply breed less). It must also be considered that with religion in permanent decline, cultural collapse may be a certainty that eventually occurs in all developed nations. Religion, it may turn out, was evolutionary beneficial to the human race.

Another possible solution is to foster a patriarchal society where men serve as strong providers. If you encourage the development of successful men who possess indispensable skills and therefore resources that are lacked by females, there will be women below their station who want to marry and procreate with them, but if strong women are produced instead, marriage and procreation is unlikely to take place at levels above the death rate.

A gap between the sexes should always exist in the favor of men if procreation is to occur at high rates, or else you’ll have something similar to the situation in America where urban professional women cannot find “good men” to begin a family with (i.e., men who are significantly more financially successful than them). They instead remain single and barren, only used occasionally by cads for exciting casual sex.

One issue that I purposefully ignored is the effect of technology and consumerism on lowering birth rates. How much influence does video games, internet, and smartphones contribute to a birth decline? How much of an effect does Western-style consumerism have in delaying marriage? I suspect they have more of an amplification effect than being an outright cause. If a country is proceeding through the cultural collapse model, technology will simply hurry the collapse, but giving internet access to a traditionally religious group of people may not cause them to flip overnight. Research will have to be done in these areas to say for sure.

Conclusion

The first iteration of any theory is sure to create as many questions as answers, but I hope that by proposing this model, it becomes more clear why some cultures seem so quick to degrade while others display a sort of immunity. Some countries may be too far down the wrong path to be saved, but I hope the information presented gives concerned readers ideas on protecting their own culture by allowing them to connect how progressive ideologies that may seem innocent or benign on the surface can eventually lead to an outright collapse of their nation’s culture.

you may have talked about this before but do you believe boris already knew he was queer and first approached theo bc he liked him or that he started crushing after they developed a close friendship and theo was what made him question his sexuality? i think theres reasons to believe either side- boris being bold enough to cuddle him in bed seems like he was making a move but him suddenly “loving” kotku seems like an impulsive move out of fear bc he realized he might like a boy. oof idk

I think Boris knew he was attracted to boys — which is evident by his playful, charming, almost teenaged-desperate pursuit of Theo. I think he probably inherently knew this about himself for a long time. I think Boris has always been physically attracted to boys since he’s entered puberty and since he’s still a young teen it is kind of a fun, funny, interesting, enlivening thing for him.

He’s never had a stable life and despite being all over the world he’s led an extremely sheltered existence in a certain way with only one terrible person as his constant (Vladimir). Boris lets it slip to Theo that everywhere the miners go they are hated — this includes Boris. Boris is hated by the public everywhere they go. So long as he is part of their unit, he is hated. That is mortifying to intelligent good-natured Boris. That is why he learns to slip out and around, to be so personable and friendly. His world travels have not been so glorious but probably rather extremely lonely and isolating (as with Judy in Canada), hurtful, and damaging. That is why Bami and Judy (and eventually, Theo) stand out to him so much — people who were kind to him in a childhood of isolated misery and directionlessness. Boris has no moral hang ups about his same-sex attraction - why should he? This directionlessness in his key developmental years is also a good thing: He never grew up around any sort of organized belief systems or stayed bound within an orthodox culture for too long for it to indoctrinate him as its own.

I think people really underestimate how incredibly remote and friendless Boris’ life must have been. Boris is a cheerful boy who Theo says is often plagued by black moods and sullen attitudes. He is an abused and secluded child dragged from location to location with literally no love or stability and constantly brutally beaten to the point where it does not even phase him. Boris actually equates love with that abuse — and nonchalantly claims his father loves him. That is painful to read, that amount of damage.

Living with a bunch of derelict miners whose leader was HIS FATHER (so surely then mostly assholes) and who are “hated everywhere they go” Boris has probably seen any NUMBER of things a conservative-minded person would (likely often erroneously) see as “morally unacceptable” — it’s like Boris is traveling the world with a crew of pirates. He’s probably seen drinking, all kinds of drugs commonly used in front of his face. He has esoteric knowledge about drug use that a child of his age should not — so he was taught by the miners: roll like this, dont include the stems, never mix this, tuck snuff like this, you can get this kind of drug here here and here, it isn’t safe if it doesn’t look like this. His young child’s mind eager to learn sucked up this black information from men who probably didn’t have a second thought to a child or what his developmental needs were. He’s probably first hand witnessed sex workers copulating with his father’s crew (how else would be have learned about the opportunity to lose his virginity in an Alaskan parking lot to a sex worker?), definitely thievery, and said he saw his father murder a man in the mine once and cover it up. Boris’ mind is full of a lifetime of this morally shadowed behavior being presented as normal, or at least secret but common.

I think he understands his attraction to boys in this same way. I think he feels it isn’t “appropriate” to share with Outsiders but it is something that Happens, something that is no one’s business but his own, and something that brings him pleasure and happiness and therefore something he will look for. However he knows it isn’t common or visible or “appropriate” to be showy about it in front of others — especially not people who could judge him (kids at school), kick him out (society), or hurt him (his father). Boris treats his attraction to Theo like his other vices and “bad” habits - barrels head first — but secret: deep dive into happy drug use (but don’t show his dad), steals everything he ever needs (but don’t let them see, put it in my coat), lies when it suits him (lies to Xandra and Larry and his father and Theo too), happily sleeps with Theo and has sex with him (but this is between you-and-me).

He knows other people might have a problem with his actions — but he does not. So that’s his hangup there. He is aware of and ever-vigilant of his surroundings. School: a safe place isolated from his father. He is free and happy to do what he wants at school — including crush on and go after Theo who he clearly likes. He thinks Theo is cute, flirts with him, tries to get him to notice him, talks to him after class, sits next to him on the bus, begs him to come over his house, tries to impress him with far-flung stories, gives him alcohol because it’s what he’s seen his father’s men do in pursuit of romantic partners or as a bonding ritual with one another.

Theo’s house is also a safe place. So safe in fact that Boris starts to leave behind some of the maladjusted development of his childhood and become more of a happy, clear-minded person. Boris and Theo suffer from arrested development and one of themes of the book is childhood lost. They are forced to mimic adults either knowingly or unknowingly, and act in ways that children should not have to in order to survive this Adult World alone. With one another they begin to heal from their traumas, their affection for one another the catalyst. Theo cooks for him, talks to a babbling eager-to-talk Boris (imagine how few people have listened to or understood the ideas of a smart boy like Boris, often surrounded by oafish alcoholics, his violent father where he is expected to keep quiet, or cultures where he does not speak the language), Theo sleeps next to him willingly, he likes Boris, a boy from New York (the top of the world!) he think Boris is funny and smart and worldly, shares his dog with him, hangs on his words, becomes his companion, cares for him if he drinks too much, tried to tend his wounds, welcomes him gratefully into his broken family, watches his favorite movies with him, celebrates holidays with him, inherently values him — and so starts to mend Boris’ broken heart.

A lot of things and viewpoints Boris has are clearly repetitions of things he has heard his father or the miners say — “Christmas is for children” (of course they’d say that to a tiny Boris longing for the magic of Christmas as a child stuck in a mining camp watching the peripheral joy of children around him and coming back to bleak hunger and a dark home), or “god yes I loved having sex with her” (about his hooker in the parking lot — Boris then says he knew she didn’t enjoy it and never shows enjoyment but rather avoidance towards women and girls in any genuine way afterwards, yet covets Theo’s physical company).

Theo on the other hand, who for a short while and then so painfully ripped from him, grew up with love. His natural disposition in Vegas comes from a place of being so recently loved and cherished by his mother and he here, in this lonely place, turns the focus of this disposition onto the one person who is kind and protective towards him: Boris — his one light in a life that has turned very dark. This is like an alien world to Boris. Lonesome and neglected Boris is touched and startled and soon changed by this kindness. So much so that Theo, unknowingly, alters the rest of Boris’ life (Boris feels Theo saved his life).

So that is why I believe the Kotku Gay Panic came about. After their climactic Vegas pool scene where their abuse and trauma is opened to one another (their wounds from their fathers, from fire, literally pouring into the purifying chlorine of the watery womb - mother - pool as they try to drown one another, angry at their attraction to one another, but then cling to and save one another instead) Boris begins to not just have fun and have sex and have freedom with Theo (all okay things by Boris’ standards as long as it is secret) — after that scene and they sleep together and Boris satisfies that teenaged human sexual need... they continue to hookup and be at bliss for a very long, happy time where they both begin to psychologically heal— Boris doesn’t just have sex and fun with Theo, he realizes he starts to love Theo.

Love - an extremely foreign concept to Boris who literally freaks the fuck out because he has no baseline for it. It isn’t the type of “love” that his father gives him (violent, untrustworthy), it isn’t the type of “love” the men who grew up around valued (cheap parking lot sex), it isn’t the kind of “love” his idol Larry has with Xandra (Larry lies to Xandra all the time), it isn’t the kind of “love” Boris has seen in his favorite movies (men and women over and over). No, this love with Theo is very very scary to him. Very perhaps dangerous. He doesn’t know.

I think Boris accepts his physical attraction to men as nbd. I think he probably feels most people feel such attractions or some other harmless private desires that certain people may see as an aberrant from “normal” for whatever reason (either typical kinks and silly hush hush sex shop porno stuff - or other far more despicable things he’s witnessed his father’s men do) and so thinks nothing of his own innocent, consensual goodtime-centered desires. Boris, who likely grew up with little exposure to healthy LGBTQ representation and has a very isolated POV in some ways, likely to some degree at the Vegas point in his life (however casually self-accepting he is) equates same-sex attraction with hush hush taboo sex activities — nothing to be ashamed of, but you’re not going to tell your dad.

As long as it is a personal thing, for him only, Boris embraces it. But it is the emotionality, the healing, the care, the love that freaks Boris out and makes him make a run for it to Kotku — only to recede to what he knows and repeat the exact kind of fake “love” he was taught by his father: unbelievable exclamations of devotion (Boris’ dad sobbing and telling him he loves him + “I love her I love her! She’s beautiful and perfect!”) coupled with the black truth (Boris’ dad beating the shit out of him + Boris beating Kotku).

Boris knows he likes boys but when he starts to love one — that’s when he runs away. Because that means something totally different: societally and personally.

The War of Fire: Ch 6. Dead Hands Upon the Earth

Ganondorf was deep in a fever and patting a wet cloth Leere provided for him against his head. Her little shack near the edge of the Faren Woods, found abandoned and repurposed for her own self exile. The Gerudo King glanced left to see his adoptive daughter looking out the window. Since informing her about the war with the Hasai and the Kikai Empire, she had grown paranoid. “You don’t have to be constantly glued to that window you know.”

The teenage girl turned around, a frown pulling at her pale features. “And you can be a good patient and stay quiet. Conserve your energy.”

“God. You sound like you mother.” Ganondorf sighed, putting the cloth in a cold-water bucket. “Speaking of, she misses you. When are you going to stop this exaggerated tantrum and come home?”

Leere gleamed at him, walking over to a desk containing empty bottles, herbs and field notes. “When she decides that she isn’t going to smother me with the princess lifestyle.”

“You are a princess.”

“Well than maybe the other royal girls can treat me one. They want to call me a commoner? Then I can live like one. Especially if mother doesn’t want to support me.”

“You’ve been gone for a month. Truth is, I’m shocked you’ve lasted long out here.”

“Why? You don’t think I could make it?”

“Not at all. I just thought you’d prefer company. Don’t you miss Rinku?”

That got a sneer out of Leere. “Rinku? Miss perfect trouble maker? Able to skip classes for the sake of ‘heroics? No.”

“Tough subject. I can emphasize to a degree.” Ganondorf suddenly winced, coughing up a storm. “Sweety. Do you have any medicine?”

Leere looked through the cupboards, feeling defeat weigh on her mind. “No…”

“Well my dear daughter, looks like you’ll have to cut your self isolation a little short. Unless you suddenly gained the strength to carry me on your back all the way to Hyrule Castle, I’ll need to go on a quest for me.”

“But dad, you can’t defend yourself.”

Ganondorf felt touched when Leere came to his bedside. “Oh, I can defend myself. I’m just in no condition to fight or leave. There’s a difference, I assure you. I’ll be real with you kiddo. I overestimated my own power out there. It nearly got me killed. But if you come and bring back help, I’ll know better. And this time, I can wipe those miserable maggots off my land.”

Leere patted his hand, and she let Ganondorf give hers a soft squeeze. “If you hear anyone knock on the door, you don’t answer. I can let myself in.”

“As if I want company at the moment.” He gave his daughter a light squeeze on the hand. “You be careful, you understand?”

“I will father. I promise.” Leere quickly went to gather a bag containing a cantina of water, a map of Hyrule, a compass, a couple glass bottles, and her Lens of Truth gifted to her by Impa. Strapping a knife at her side, she turned back to Ganondorf. “You promise to stay alive until I get back, ok?”

“I’ll be here breathing Leere.”

That didn’t fill Leere with confidence, but she headed out the door, locking up behind. The thought of Hyrule at war terrified her. How many were being killed because of that? Walking through the forest, she crossed a bridge going over a river. It only took a glance down at the water to see bodies bobbing up and down in the current.

Now near the edge of the Faron Woods, there was the sound of fighting in the distance. Ducking low, Leere snuck closer to get peak at the action. Safe behind a tree, she saw a group of Hasai burning Deku Baba’s trying to snap at them. One of the plant monsters had its jaws around a soldier’s leg. The man took his war axe and started to drive it in and out of the Baba’s head. Purple blood leaked out its head, and, eventually, it released its grip on his leg. The rest of the Hasai kept their distance, effectively burning the rest of the monsters in cinders.

“Spread out and keep an eye out. There’s no telling what kind of monsters can be found in these woods.”

“You hear what happened to Markel? Found himself caught by a giant spider. By the time we burned the web he was half eaten.”

“Holy Hell.”

As Leere was about to move out, from behind the first group of Hasai came another group. There was a Skurge soldier in green striped armour flanked by at least five regular soldiers. On a leash, there was an odd beast. I looked like a large dog, but had the muscle mass and strips of a tiger. The leader of the first group looked surprised to see this man. “I didn’t expect to see a tracker out here. What’s your mission?”

“Prince Seras requests the corpse of Hyrule’s King. Thinks if he’s still a beast, it will make a good head to mount above the palace fire. We’ve been tracking his scent from the bridge since yesterday.”

As the men talked, Leere watched as the beast slowly turned her way. With a sniff of the air, it slowly opened its jaw in a wide, angry growl. This got the attention of the handler. “What is it girl?”

The Hasai looked out towards the tree Leere was hiding behind. The handler motioned his squad to open fire. With three punching forward, they launched fire at Leere’s cover. The Mortuus had no choice but to leap out of cover to avoid the fire.

The beast turned its head to her, slapped its tail on the ground, and clawed against the ground in anticipation. “That girl knows where to find the demon kings body. Take her alive!”

Leere didn’t know how she could fight back against all these soldiers? She had combat training from her father, but her magical expertise were limited. The princess had no gear to take on such a large group either. So she settled on her only reasonable course of action. She ran.

“Stop her! We need her alive!”

One Hasai licked his lips after getting a better look at Leere. “But what’s a few bruises and burns if she resists?”

Looking over her shoulder, Leere panicked as she saw the weird dog bound over the foliage to get after her. The princess felt cuts against her as she ran through branches and roll over fallen logs to race out of the forest. All she knew was that there was a village not to far from the edge. Perhaps she could find a garrison of Hylian soldiers or monsters there to assist her.

A fireball whizzed over her shoulder, and the girl let out a scream of fear. These men weren’t above searing her flesh if it meant catching her. Panting and nearly out of breath, she broke out of the undergrowth of Faren Woods. Her hopes of a rescue, however, would be dashed. A deeper sense of terror filled her as a village was midway being burnt to the ground. Houses quietly burned as the fire flickered and blew in the wind. Charred bodies of a massacre littered the area, photographing an image in Leere’s mind she’d never forget. A Hasai soldier in armour was walking through the village when he turned to see her paralysed by the site.

Behind Leere, the beast caught up, pouncing her. Luckily, as she was tackled over a drop of a property wall, the canine fell off her. Other Hasai started to catch up. Leere knew she was running out of options. Looking left and right, she settled her sights on a well east of her. Running towards it, she glanced once more over her shoulder to see two Hasai launch two fire bolts, while another prepared an arrow. All the fire missed her, but the arrow nicked her, catching her by the calf of her leg. Tripping, she caught herself by the ledge of the well. Peering down it was dark and empty.

The Hasai sneered, with the beast master whistling at his canine. “Sick her!”

Leere looked at the hungry jaws of the dog, and not wanting to face the pain the Hasai were ready to give her, she dropped backwards into the well. She could only pray there was some water. As she looked above to see fire launch upwards, darkness quickly overtook her vision. In the dark, her body hit water, submerging her. She bobbed and kicked upwards to reach, gasping for air.  

There was an underground current that carried her through a thin passage way. When the all-encompassing darkness was becoming too much for her, Leere thrashed her arms about, trying desperately to grab onto any surface. She didn’t want to die alone in this darkness. Her hands suddenly gripped onto something above her, and she had to clamp down as to not be dragged away. With all her strength, her stomach tightened at the sensation of pulling herself out of the water. All those sit ups she had to do would mean jack all if she couldn’t pick herself up. With a scream that bounced off the walls, she threw her body out of the water, rolling onto a calm surface.

Only this darkness was anything but calming. It reminded her too much of her time at the asylum. Standing up and coughing out some water, she felt around in the dark for an escape. As her hand found a doorknob, she heard a splash not too far from where she was first carried away. “Oh no.”

Turning the door open, she was quick to shut it behind her. Catching her breath some more, the young girl looked around in the dark room she found herself in. There was still no light to guide her. Taking a few steps, she suddenly froze in place after hearing a crunch beneath her feet. Looking down, her eyes could barely make out the broken human bones that lied just below her. Leere yelped, running forward instead of back. Each step only broke more bones, and each step only quickened her pace.

As she felt another door, she was momentarily relived to see a source of light as she went through the other side. This, too, however, soon changed to a knew sense of dread. From around a corridor, a Bubble flew into view, light green fire around its body. The monster was basically a human skull with leathery wings. And these monsters had the affinity to chomp down on the living.  

When the Bubble saw Leere, an inhuman cackle echoed the halls of the room. To Leere’s horror, she saw skulls filling the walls. What kind of catacombs did she fall into? Grabbing her knife, she let her fear override her clarity. She should have taken control of the undead, but instead, the girl flew into a fight response. As the Bubble open its jaws to snap at her, Leere drove her knife into its head. “Die you numbskull!”

Thankfully, these creatures had very little dexterity and could be slain rather easily. It was a matter of being surrounded by creatures that made them dangerous. Not to mention their curses.

Leere’s hand burned as she held her hand around the hilt of her knife. It held a purple glow and shone on and off on her right palm. Stupid. She was careless and forget to attack when the Bubble had its flames off. This wasn’t a too terrible curse, but in the middle of combat it could be a death sentence until removed or naturally healed with time. To her right, down another corridor, more Bubbles appeared, drawn by the sounds of combat.

The young princess felt scatter brained. Fear was filling her. This time, she took a stick that was in her travel bag, quickly stabbing it into the dwindling fire of the first Bubble. Now with a torch, she chose to flee in the opposite direction. The Bubble’s lights turned on and off as they gave chase, yet Leere wasn’t going to fight back. Finding another door, she jimmied with the handle a bit before going through the door. Closing behind her, she flinched as the Bubbles on the other side physically threw themselves into the steel door. With a sigh of relief, Leere kicked the door back at them in a taunting motion. “Bitches can’t even open a door.”

Turning around, Leere let out a scream as she came face to face with a corpse. It looked like it suffered ghastly injuries from head to toe, and burns on its body. When she took deep breaths to calm herself from the initial surprise, she peered a little closer. That was when the corpse screamed back.

A set of tiny glowing red beads appeared out of the eye sockets, and the redead lurched itself upward. Leere was frozen by the animated corpse, shock filling her body. If this was corpse, then shouldn’t she be in control? Shouldn’t she have the stronger will? There was a split moment before the redead lurched at her that she could feel her muscles freed once more from the shock. Throwing her body rather ungracefully, Leere crawled forward a few feet before turning around to face the monster.

The Redead turned its face towards her, half of its face a horrid sight of exposed muscle. Leere raised her hand, channelling dark magic she worked up by training with her father. With an energy transfer, she did her best to impose her will onto the undead monster. “I, Leere Dragmire, command you to obey my will!”

The redead stopped, and the lights inside its head momentarily went out. Whispers, little by little, started to creak out from the walls. From the door that Leere came threw, the steel weight started to creak open as another undead soldier lurched inside the room. Worse, blue silhouettes of men appeared from the darkness, some even coming out of the walls. These silhouettes quickly formed concrete forms. These were the ghosts of dead Hylian soldiers that had fallen in battle. Between the ghosts and the undead soldiers, they started to crowd together, pushing Leere backwards.

The redead’s eyes illuminated again, a red ghostly trail of aura blowing behind. The ghosts and undead spoke to the princess in crackly tones.

“You ask us to fight for you in death? You ask us to be your soldiers? You ask us to submit our bodies even further for your will? You are not worthy.”

“You are not your adoptive father.”

“You don’t deserve to hold power over us.”

“You lack the knowledge to effectively do so.”

“You.”

“Are.”

“Food.”

As they reached out to grab her, Leere hadn’t been watching where she was stumbling back towards. Not that she could have seen in the darkness. Before the horde could claim her, the Mortuus stumbled backwards down a pit. Leere yelled out in panic as her body hit a slope hard, causing her to roll further and further downwards. With a hard thud, her body landed with a hard crash against something spongy. It caused her to roll rather far on a soft dirt ground.

The area was lightly illuminated by a menacing dark green light. It was no natural light by any means, but at least Leere could see. Standing tall, the princess winced at all the bruises that she took from the wall. Turning around, there was a fresh new terror waiting for her. A single arm was popped out of the ground. It was stretched out longer than any normal human arm should be. It was also pale and had red patches running along its length.

It was when Leere’s red eyes trailed upwards to its hand, that she felt a terrible sensation fill her stomach. Every finger had a long, sharp crimson nail. As she opened her mouth to take a breath, the arm suddenly sprang forward to grab by the head. Leere didn’t have the energy in her to scream as she felt her skull being squeezed tight by the grip of the arm. Out of the corner of her eye, the dirt exploded, and a fleshy blob made itself known.

The creature was had this pale body with the same colourization as the arm that held her. She could see its face because it had a thin, pointy neck looking upwards. With two stumpy limbs for arms, it slowly slugged its way over to her. Leere didn’t even want to think about the deep gargling coming from its stomach.

When she went to reach for her knife, Leere cursed herself with the fact that she left her weapon back with the Bubbles. Improving, she reached for a glass bottle in her bag, and smashed it against the hand that held her. It was enough force to have the arm let her go. Almost immediately, it tried to grab her again. With the movement of a boxer, she danced around the hand as it tried to grasp her, walking backwards.

Glancing to her right, she looked at the creature lowering its neck. It had the largest visible set of teeth she had ever seen in a monster before. With red gums, she wasn’t sure if it was smiling at her or not. With no eyes in its sockets, it made it all the more terrifying. Tilting its head to the side, it opened its jaws. With the force of a corba, the creature snapped at her. Leere stumbled backwards, throwing another glass bottle in her travelers’ bag at its head. This made the creature turn away from her.

It had such a thick body that Leere wondered if any sword could ever effectively cut into its flesh. It didn’t matter, as it suddenly burrowed back into the dirt, vanishing far too quickly for Leere’s liking. Nothing that big had the right to dig that quickly. From the ground multiple arms sprouted out of the ground, growing to a dozen. Each one that came out rocketed towards Leere to grab her.

The Princess, despite her fear, felt her adrenaline spike. She survived worse. She was necromancer. Ganondorf told her that she could easily surpass Vaati one day in magical capabilities. She needed to survive this. People were suffering up above, not to mention her father was counting on her. Gripping the broken glass in her hands, she cared little for the pain of her own cut.

As each hand tried to claw or grasp her, she slashed open their palms with the edged glass in her hand. With the ferocity of a slasher, she swiped and stabbed the flesh that tried to keep her down. She only faltered when one hand clawed at her back side. Picking up two pieces of broken glass, Leere looked around for an exit. If she learned anything from Zelda, it was that no matter how hopeless a situation looked, there was always a solution to make it out.

Stabbing one broken shard through the palm of the creature, Leere took the Lens of Truth from her pocket to try and find an exit that perhaps was hidden. This proved to be another mistake that took a penalty on her will. Glancing beneath the surface was a horde of sickly arms. It was a system of flesh lumped together. She saw a body of a Hasai soldier being dragged into the blob of arms. Amongst the arms was the head, peering eerily at her. It seemed the creature’s patience was over, and a large number of new arms launched out of the dirt. They latched onto Leere’s legs, a foot, her arms, stomach, the side of a breast, her hair, and a final one latched on her neck.

Leere gasped as the body of the monster remerged from the ground. Gasping for air, the young princess tried to think of ways to fight back. Every movement of struggle was met with the hands squeezing tighter. Combat was no longer a viable choice. Its body lurched closer, bobbing its head back downwards to look down at its prey.

If Leere couldn’t fight, she had to try and use reason. Her mother would call her mad, but it was all she had left. Barely reaching a hand out to grasp and arm, Leere channeled her necrotic magic, establishing a connection with the undead. “Don’t kill me. Please. I know you can understand me.”

The monster paused eating her, slowly tilting its head at her. With a wide grin it leaned closer, sniffing Leere with its damaged nose. It took every fibre in Leere to not make any sudden movements or noises of terror as it opened its mouth, hissing an exhale of air at her. The princess took it as a sign that perhaps it would at least hear her out. “Please. There’s a war going on. My father is counting on me to help him.”

Multiple arms slowly drew upwards out of the dirt, standing still as trees. Others started to drag bodies from the darkness, carrying Hylian and Hasai corpses to throw in a pile. The mouth moved slowly up and down, but no voice came out from its throat. Instead, Leere heard an echo in her mind. “We are the Dead Hand. We are the accumulation of Hyrule’s bloody history. We are the bodies that your monarchy has left lying stinking and rotting in the dirt. Those that are too far gone are taken by us. Or those that foolishly find themselves in our care.”

Leere kept her grip on the arms to not lose her connection. “I didn’t mean to intrude. But I was chased down here by invaders.”

“Yes. We know. There is much death in Hyrule lately. It feeds us.”

“Aren’t you of Hyrule though? Don’t you serve my Father?”

“No. Ganondorf has no need for the undead. Unless it is to play guard dogs to magical items he wishes hidden. You think you can control us? A small, little girl?”

Leere felt her throat tighten, as well as all the other hands grip a little harder. “No. I am a necromancer, but I don’t want to dominate others. Not even the dead.”

“Then you are food?”

The other hands started scrapping at her skin, and the mouth of the Dead Hand chatted its teeth back and forth together. Leere dug deep to find her courage, and snarled. “I am not food. I might be the only friend you will ever have.”

“Friend?”

“Yes. Friend. An ally. If you help me, I can give you fresh food.”

“How?”

“The invaders attacking Hyrule. Surely you and every fallen Hylian would like some payback? I’m certain that there’s a small part of your soul left wanting that.”

The hand snapped forty-five degrees suddenly to left, as if a primal force deep within was contemplating it. “Why should we trust you?”

“Because I would be waste to eat now. Work with me. Let me conjure you to my side. And I promise it will benefit us both.”

The Dead Hand tilted its head back slowly, opening its massive jaw over Leere like a serpent. Leere braced herself with a scowl, but she didn’t scream. After a moment of contemplation, the Dead Hand moved away. Its arms started to release her, retreating in the earth. “You drive an appetizing bargain. Know that we will help you young necromancer. The undead of Hyrule are a powerful force. We trust that you won’t abuse your end. It might make you a part of us one day.”

Leere caught her breath as she fully released. The massive Dead Hand lowered its head to her. On instinct, she carefully cupped its sides in her bloodied hands. “I promise I will be to good to you. You won’t regret this partnership.”

The massive monster seemed to grin once more. Leere still couldn’t tell. As it shuffled away, the ghost of Hylian soldier appeared. He was missing an arm, but with his left, he pointed towards a ladder leading upwards. “You survived. And you gained the help of the hive mind. Impressive. The other lost souls are impressed by your dedication. Those who wish to fight, even after death, have considered you as a new commander on the battle field. Go now.”

Leere nodded to him, thankful for guidance out. Each ghost acted as a beacon in the frightening dark. It seemed the redeads and Bubbles kept their distance now as she traveled past them. As she traveled upwards, she found herself coming out of a crypt. Fresh sunlight poured downwards. Leere had to blink a few times to become adjusted to it.

As she walked out into the warm sun, she noticed she was still in the burning village. On que, an arrow was shot next to her foot. Two dozen Hasai soldiers were still in the area, the graveyard of the town by the looks of it. A building’s roof close to her collapsed from a fire spreading, and the invaders finished surrounding her. “Surrender girl! We have you completely surrounded and outnumbered!”

The tracker had his hound on a leash. By the looks of it, the hound was wet, most likely from chasing her down the moat. “If you play nice, we can find use for you as a prisoner.”

Leere looked at the casualties of war, frowning deeply and closing her eyes. “You didn’t even give these people a chance to be your prisoners.”

She could feel the dead underneath the earth. She could feel hell raise up in her soul. These warmongers didn’t put fear or dread in her. They made her angry.

When they laughed at her, a couple drew blades, while a few others ignited fire in their palms. “Last chance little girl.”

Leere lifted her hands. To conjure the undead felt so natural. She was a conductor of monsters. And the music she wanted to hear was the screams of these murderers. From the earth, pale thin arms shot up, grasping Hasai shoulders and catching them off guard. A few were immediately pulled into the loose earth. Others were ensnared as redead rose from the ground. The first screams came as jagged teeth tore into the white skin of the Skurge soldiers.

Other tried firing bolts of fire at Leere, but arms of the Dead Hand intercepted the attacks. Leere looked in the direction of the tracker, and with a flick of her wrist, hands grabbed the limbs of him and his beast. With a squeeze of her fist, the arms pulled in different directions, tearing the man and the hound apart.

One Hasai gritted his teeth as he tried to swing his blade at Leere. Hands grasped him by all limbs, practically freezing him in place. “You little brat! You can’t do this to us. You’re a monster!”

As redead and the other arms went to town on Hasai in the village, Leere glared deeply into the eyes of the Hasai. “Did you give these people mercy? I’m sure they called you the same thing as you burned them alive. Do you even know the name of this town?” Behind the man, the Dead Hand’s body rose from the earth, saliva pouring from its gums. The Hasai captain’s eyes widened as he peered into the empty sockets of the monster. Leere turned to the last of the Hasai as she walked away. “You’re all going to die up here.”

The young princess turned heal and started making quick pace to central Hyrule. As screams of the living, and the hungry chomps of the dead filled her ears, she thought long and hard about how many innocents were going to die because of these invaders. How many lost souls would be thrown about the landscape? Well, if the Hasai wanted to bring fire to Hyrule with their war, she’d gladly see them all burn.

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Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/185219415216/the-war-of-fire-ch-5-tales-of-the-flame

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/621492865907998720/the-war-of-fire-ch-7-stink-and-filth-to-the

Original story. Based in the world of @figmentforms. Shared world with @s-kinnaly and @ridersoftheapocalypse. Fun to get back to this story.

This Way Became My Journey, Ch. 8

Word Count: 4190

"I'm sure Captain Janeway is doing everything she can to find us," Harry Kim told B'Elanna Torres, hoping to raise the young Klingon woman's spirits. The two were moping about a dark corridor in the Ocampa city, listening to the energy pulses and wondering if they were ever going to get out of here. "What makes you think any of them are alive?" she asked him in return. She winced, suddenly, grabbing at her neck. "Should I call for some help?" "No," she grunted, angrily, moving away from him, and ducking into a small nook. Harry paced back and forth and then finally decided to lean against the wall in the nook as footsteps could be heard approaching.

He looked up to see the Ocampa nurse who had been there when he first had awoken. "Are you in pain?" she asked them, gently. "Are you watching us?" B'Elanna snapped stepping towards her. "I thought you said we weren't prisoners here?" "I wasn't watching you," the nurse assured them. "I was coming to give you something." She produced a vile of green powder to them. " I don't know if it will help," she told them, giving the vile to Harry. "It's a medicine. There are some people who have broken tradition that have left the city; their colony grows fruits and vegetables. They discovered quite be accident that the moss that grows on certain fruit trees have healing properties. I'm sorry for what has happened to you." "We appreciate this," Harry told her. "But they only way we're to survive is if we can get to the surface and find our own people." "The Elders would say that's against the Caretaker's wishes," the nurse replied. "What do you say?" B'Elanna challenged her. "The Caretaker's been behaving strangely for the past several months. Abducting people, increasing the power supply. He's tripled the energy he sends us. They say we have enough stored now to run the city for five years," the nurse said. "No body knows why?" Harry inquired. "When we ask we're told to trust the Caretaker's decisions. One person I knew did get to the surface, we never saw her again." "How?" Harry asked, hopefully. "The ancient tunnels that brought us here still exist," the nurse answered. "Over the years small breaches in security barriers have appeared just large enough for someone to get through. But it still requires digging through meters of rock to get out." B'Elanna moved towards her now. "Can you get us tools to dig with?" "It could take days, maybe even weeks to break through," she told them. "You have to rest, conserve your strength." "Please," Harry pleaded with her, "It's our only chance." The nurse looked around for a moment or two before nodded her head; she was going to get them the digging tools, they were half way to finding their people.

The underground dwelling of the Ocampa was nothing like the away team was expecting. There were buildings and rows of growing vegetables. Kes told them that this was just a colony that had broken away from the city, to start their own way of life. As the away team, consisting of Tom Paris, Sarah Barrett, Chakotay, Neelix, Kathryn Janeway, and Kes, made their way through the colony many of the Ocampa farmers stopped to glance at them. None of them appeared hostile though, just curious, and that put Janeway's mind at ease. Perhaps these people had not harmed Kim and Torres like she was beginning to dread, after seeing what the Kazon had done to Kes. This part of the galaxy seemed utterly ruthless and lawless and she feared being trapped here forever. If she had to choose a mission, being lost so far from home would never have been one of them. As it was searching for their missing crewmen was taking away precious time that could be used to convince the Caretaker to send them home. The energy pulses could be heard, drumming away in each of their brains. Tuvok, who had stayed behind in command of Voyager, had told Janeway that they were increasing, just before the away team had beamed down to the colony that Kes had called home. Janeway, or anyone else for the matter, couldn't understand why the array was quickening the energy pulses. The group had made it to the center of the small colony. A man and woman were looking over some type of plant; both looked up when the group with Kes approached. The male smiled, warmly as Kes went to embrace him. "Hello Daggin," Kes greeted taking the man's hands in her own. "We'd thought we'd never see you again," Daggin replied, with a warm smile. "How did you get back?" Kes gestured to the away team. "These people rescued me from the Kazon. I'm trying to help them find two of their crewmen." She looked around the group of gathered Ocampans and asked, "Does anyone know where the aliens are kept? The ones that the Caretaker sends here?" "I think that they're at the central clinic," Daggin answered. It was the first bit of good news that Janeway had heard in what felt like days and she exclaimed, "Can you take us there?" Two more Ocampa joined the group and Kes got an angry look on her face. "They cannot speak telepathically, Toscat, please talk a loud." Her harsh words made the away team all spin about and look at the newcomers. Up until that moment they had not been aware that these aliens possessed telepathic powers. One of the newcomers, Toscat, looked apologetic. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to be rude. But you should not be here." "We'll be glad to leave as soon as we have our people," Janeway told him. "That won't be possible, we cannot interfere with the Caretaker's wishes," Toscat said. "Maybe you can't, but we can," Chakotay snapped. Toscat shook his head. "You don't understand." "That's right," Kes piped up, "They don't understand. They have no way of knowing that the Ocampa have been dependent on the Caretaker for so long that we can't even think for ourselves anymore. They don't understand that we were once a people that had full command over our minds abilities." Toscat rolled his eyes. "The stories of our ancestor's cognitive abilities are apothecial. At the very least exaggerated." "We lost those abilities because we stopped using them." "You should not dwell on what's been lost," Toscat told Kes. "And look at all that has been gained." "We've gained a talent for dependency to simply take what we're given," Kes retorted. "I'm going to help them Toscat, whether you like it or not. And I think my friends will join me." Toscat took her by the arm and led her away from the group. "You've already defied the Caretaker by going to the surface. Learn from the experience. Follow the path he has set for us." "I've learned very well, Toscat! I saw the sunlight! I can't believe that our Caretaker would forbid us to open our eyes and see the sky!" Kes exclaimed, passionately. "Come with me," she said, turning about to face Janeway. "We'll find your people." Toscat could only watch as Kes and a group of her friends led Janeway and her away team towards the city. As they pulled away from the colony, Janeway reached out and grabbed a hold of Barrett's arm, gently, but with enough force that it pulled the young woman up to walk closely with the Captain. "Now is as good a time as ever to ask this," the Captain said, softly so only the counselor's could hear. "Once we get our people back, what do you think Chakotay's going to do?" Barrett glanced over her shoulder at the Maquis commander. He so far hadn't tried to hurt any of them. He seemed genuinely concerned for his missing crew and a fledging respect for Janeway. However, it didn't mean he wasn't going to turn on them the moment they had achieved their goal. "A number of things, but one being that he will do anything in his power to not be captured by us, we could be in for even more problems then just finding a way home. He's agreed to combine forces to find our missing people, because he knows that he needs our technology, however, once we've completed our mission, we're worthless to him and just another Federation Starship trying to capture him." "So much for letting bygones be bygones," Janeway muttered. "If he's smart, once we're back home in the Alpha Quadrant, he'll surrender. I don't know how that tiny ship would hold up if Voyager was chasing them constantly," Barrett replied. "But from my experiences, I've found that terrorist cells don't just give up so easily. I'm sure, while he's been spending time on his ship, he has been devising a plan for when we get home." "If we get back home," Janeway told her. "If we don't, we're going to need them." In the past few days, while working so closely with the Maquis, Kathryn's opinion had slowly been changing about them. "Ma'am?" her counselor asked her in a confused tone. "I'm not going to lie to you Sarah," Janeway said to her. "Our chances of the array sending us home are slim. My senior staff is all but gone, with only you and Tuvok remaining, and if we're lucky Harry Kim. I'm trying to keep a positive outlook that we will get back to Federation space and our staff will be replenished, but the another part of me is facing reality. We're going to need to continue to join forces if we're going to survive out here." The younger woman focused on the sounds of the energy pulses for a moment. Kathryn Janeway was right, if they did not get home like they were hoping, Voyager and the Maquis were going to have to depend on each other and their talents to get them through. No one knew what lay ahead from this point in the galaxy; it was a completely uncharted part of space for the Federation. They would be alone, with no one to come to their aide if they should need it. But would the Maquis ever go for an alliance with Janeway? Barrett was finding it difficult to picture it happening as they stepped onto an escalator; the Maquis were not exactly Starfleet's best friends. Kes had informed them that they were entering the main city. The group spilt up, with the Ocampa going to check out the central clinic for Harry Kim and B'Elanna Torres. Janeway and the rest decided to begin asking around on their own about their missing people. As they made their way through the crowds the sounds of the energy pulses vanished, they had stopped. Tapping her combadge, Janeway contacted Tuvok on Voyager. "Away team to Voyager, what's going on with the array?" "It's no longer sending out energy pulses Captain. It appears to be realigning its position." "Keep me informed, Janeway out." As the away team proceeded on, Kes and her friends approached them. "They haven't been seen at the clinic for hours," Kes informed the Captain. "We can search the city, ask around if anyone has seen them," Daggin suggested. "If they were trying to get to the surface how would they go?" "Probably the same way I did, up one of the ancient tunnels," Kes replied. "Mister Paris, you and Neelix go with her and start checking them out," Janeway ordered Tom. "The rest of us will stay here; see what we can find out." The group split up once again, this time Paris going with Neelix and Kes to the search the tunnels, with Barrett and Chakotay staying with Janeway. "We need to talk to every doctor and nurse at this hospital, see what they can tell us about Torres and Kim." The ground shook violently then and Janeway struggled to keep her balance. "Voyager to Janeway." "Go ahead." "Captain, the array is firing a weapon at the surface. It seems to be trying to seal the energy conduits." Janeway nodded her head. "Understood, keep a channel open," she said, walking along with Chakotay and Barrett. "The array is the Ocampa's sole source of energy, why would the Caretaker seal the conduits?" Chakotay asked. "He's sealing them because he no longer intends to provide for them, and to protect the Ocampa from the Kazon or other enemies," Barrett replied. "Captain, I think I've seen enough to piece together a reasonable hypothesis. The Caretaker is dying." "Explain." "Well, he's increased the energy supply so the Ocampa would have enough power to run on the city on their own for the next five years," Barrett replied, "and now it looks like he is trying to seal the conduits. Coupled with Tuvok's observations as well while on the array, the only conclusion I can come to at this point is that he does not intend to continue his role as Caretaker." "That doesn't mean he's dying," Chakotay replied. "He could be leaving." "I don't think so," Barrett replied. "While we were over there he kept talking about running out of time and a debt that could never be repaid. I believe that the debt he was speaking of was a debt he owed to the Ocampa. He also told us that we didn't have what he needed. I think he was trying to find someone to replace him, to continue providing for the Ocampa, so his debt continued to be repaid. He knew he was dying." Janeway shook her head slightly. "If he dies, how the hell are we supposed to get home?" "Paris to Janeway." "Go ahead." "They're in one of the tunnels, Captain... I can't see them, but they're up there. We're going after them." Janeway felt a small feeling of relief creep into her heart. "Call for transport when you have them, Paris. We'll meet you on the ship." She tapped her combadge with a sense of urgency, for the city was really shaking now under the constant weapon's fire. "Janeway to Voyager." "Voyager here." "Three to beam up." "Stand by," came Tuvok's steady voice. "Captain, I can't get a lock on you. The weapon's fire from the array has eradiated the planet's crust. The transport sensors can't find the breaches in the security barrier." "Come on," Janeway said, taking off in a jog, Chakotay and Barrett behind her. "There's only one other way out of here."

Paris lead the way up the winding metal stairs in the tunnel, his tricorder out so he could pick up Harry and B'Elanna's life signs. The two had made it up pretty far, but they hadn't made it out yet, that much he knew. Kes and Neelix were following closely behind him and he hoped that they reached Harry and B'Elanna before the weapons fire from the array caved the decaying tunnel in. "Janeway to Paris." "Go ahead," Paris responded to Janeway's call. "The transporters aren't working. You're going to have to find a breach in the security barrier when you get to the top," the Captain told him. "We're a few minutes behind you. Janeway out." As another volley rocked the unstable stairs Paris caught movement a few flights up. "I see them," he told Neelix and Kes, putting his tricorder away and sprinting up the steps. His heart was pounding, he wasn't sure what condition Harry and Torres were going to be in. His tricorder had told him that they were alive but he didn't know how ill they were. They had after all been in a hospital on this planet. "Took you long enough," Kim chided him when Paris finally caught up with him. Paris helped Kim to his feet. "How could I let down the only friend I've got?" "Friend?" Kim retorted as Kes moved past him to help B'Elanna. "What makes you think I'm your friend?" The convict smiled as he pressed his combadge. "Paris to Janeway, we found them Captain." "Don't wait for us," came Janeway's reply. "Get them to safety." "Don't worry," Kes assured them as they made their way deep into the tunnel, off of the rickety stairs. "I know where we can get through the barrier. They entered a dark cavern, the only light the flashlight that Harry Kim was carrying leading the way. As they rounded a corner a force field of some kind came into view, but there was an opening, just wide enough for them to pass through. Kes was the one to crawl passed it first, warning them not to touch it, that she had been told it could burn your skin off. That didn't make anyone in that group feel any better, but they all helped each other through the barrier. B'Elanna crawled through after Kes, followed by Paris, than Kim and finally Neelix bringing up the rear. Once they were all past the force field, the group journeyed deeper into the cavern, until they came to a spot where Paris didn't think they could climb up anymore. "I think we've reached the top," he announced, reaching for his phaser. "Neelix, get out your phaser." The Talaxian did so, pointing it towards where Paris instructed him to do so. They fired together and a few seconds later a pile of rocks came crashing down. The group retreated back into cavern so they wouldn't be hurt. When the rocks had stopped falling they were pleased to see the sun pouring in. They had managed to get to the top and create a hole to crawl out of; a transport to Voyager was only a few minutes away. Paris climbed the rubble first and reached his hand out of the hole, grasping onto the dry ground to pull his body out of the cavern. Reaching down he helped Kes out, then Harry, and finally B'Elanna. Neelix was able to crawl out on his own. Tapping his combadge, and with the help of Neelix, supported B'Elanna on his hip. "Voyager, can you get a lock on us now?" "Affirmative," Tuvok's voice said. "But I'm reading only five signals." Before Paris could tell the Vulcan that the others were a few minutes behind them, he heard the weapon coming before it hit. "Get down!" he screamed, forcing B'Elanna and Neelix into the dusty earth as a volley struck nearby, shaking the ground with a mighty force. There was a massive explosion, bigger than any of the others before. Paris looked up to see dust billowing out of the hole that they had just crawled out of. He nervously tapped his badge. "Paris to Janeway?" There was no response. "Chakotay! Barrett, do you read!" He scrambled to his feet. "Voyager, prepare to transport everyone in this group except for me." "Understood." Neelix jumped to his feet as well. "You're not thinking of going back there!" he gasped. He then looked at Kes and the others, huddling on the ground. "Well, the fool needs company. Take care of them dearest," he said to Kes. Paris took Neelix's combadge off and placed it in Kes' hand. "Voyager, make that three to beam up. Lock onto the other combadge and energize." As Paris and Neelix made their way back to the hole, Kim, Torres and Kes were transported off of the dry ground and back to Voyager. Paris climbed down the opening first, followed quickly by Neelix. They made their way back through the cavern and the barrier towards the stairs that they had found Harry and B'Elanna on. Hopefully Janeway and the others weren't too far from that spot, because there was a very real possibility that they all were not going to make it out of that ancient tunnel alive. Janeway struggled to help Barrett up. When the last volley had hit, it had shaken the tunnel they were in and the stairs had started to collapse, tossing the three about violently. Chakotay had been the one to get the worst of it. He screamed out in pain as the stairs swayed some more. "My leg is broken. I can't move," he told the Captain, who was looking more and more anxious with each volley that shook the stairs. They were hanging on by a precious thread and any moment now they were going to go tumbling down to the bottom of the cavern, taking all three of them with it. Janeway wasn't sure what to do. Barrett had bumped her head, and because of the previous injury, the Captain was certain it had made her groggy. She wouldn't be able to help Janeway get Chakotay up. "Hold on," Janeway told him, not certain if she sounded so confident. "Here they are," she heard Neelix's voice and thankfully looked over her shoulder. "Neelix, help me with Sarah," she ordered the Talaxian. Janeway wrapped one arm around Barrett while Neelix took the other and together they helped the young woman to her feet and began to get off the stairs, moving into the cavern. "I'll get Chakotay," Paris told a worried Janeway, who nodded her head and went with Neelix and Barrett. He precariously stepped out onto the stairs, which came even looser with another weapon's volley. Gently he eased his body towards the commander. Chakotay was struggling to hold on to the railing. "Get out of here Paris, before the whole thing comes down!" "I intend too," Paris replied. "As soon as I get you up." "You get on those stairs, they'll collapse. We'll both die," the Maquis commander said, wincing in pain. Paris continued to inch his way towards him. "Yeah, but on the other hand if I save your butt, your life belongs to me." There was another volley and this time Paris slipped, his own behind hitting the hard metal stairs. There was no time to think about the pain, he pulled himself back up and continued towards Chakotay. "Isn't that some kind of Indian custom," Paris continued. "Wrong tribe." "I don't believe you," Paris said, as he finally reached him,wrapping an arm around the commander's to brace himself to help Chakotay up. "You'd rather die than let me be the one to rescue you." Chakotay reached out and grabbed a hold of his arm, nearly pulling him down again. "Fine," he snapped. "Be a fool, if I have to die, at least I'll have the pleasure of watching you go with me." With Chakotay firmly holding onto his back, Paris started the climb back up the steps. "Isn't there some Indian trick we're you can turn yourself into a bird and fly us out of here?" "You're too heavy." Figures, Paris thought as they finally made it to the top and off the stairs, glancing back just once, he saw the stairs dislodge and tumble to the floor below, just mere seconds after they had been on them. That had been a close call, too close. It was slow going back through the barrier since Chakotay's leg was broken, but they soon made it and found Janeway, Barrett and Neelix waiting for them at the opening. Janeway quickly ordered that everyone go through the opening, starting with Neelix and Paris lifting Chakotay through it. Once back on the surface, Paris helped both Janeway and Barrett to crawl through, noticing the slightly glassy look in Barrett's eyes. "Janeway to Voyager, five to beam directly to Sickbay." The grey walls of sickbay materialized before them and Paris was never so happy to see a starship than he was at that moment. The Doctor had already treated Harry and B'Elanna, who were already in their own clothes. Kes was near by, staying with them. Paris and Neelix helped Chakotay up onto the surgical biobed so the Doctor could begin to treat his leg. Paris himself checked out Barrett, holding her eye lids open. "She's fine," he told Janeway. "Just a bad headache." "That's easy for you to say," the young woman mumbled, rubbing her sore temple. Paris pressed a hypospray to her neck and immediately she felt relief and let out a content sigh. Janeway let out a small sigh of relief herself that none of her people had been seriously hurt. "Bridge to Janeway. Two Kazon ships are approaching the array." "Set a course, I'm on my way," Janeway told Tuvok as she left sickbay, Paris and Barrett closely on her heels, followed by Kes and Neelix. Chakotay swung his legs over the surgical biobed and told B'Elanna that they had to get back to their ship. The two left sickbay together, and the Doctor didn't look too pleased. "I strongly suggest rest! I will not be held responsible for the consequences! Is the crew always this difficult?" The hologram turned about and asked Harry Kim. Kim jumped down from his biobed. "I don't know Doc, this is my first mission." With a little pat on the hologram's shoulder, Harry too left sickbay. The Doctor looked about the now empty room, disgruntled. "Doesn't anyone know how to turn off a program when they leave?"

Leaving an abusive relationship. A stream of thought.

You know what is so crazy about dating a guy like you? You were so effective about making me feel like shit that you are still doing it to this day 2 years later and I have not even spoken with you. You put your toxic shit so deeply in to my brain that I am repeating the bullshit that you said to me and you’re not even here. 

When I was 25 years old I had lived with a condition call vaginismus for 9 years. Vaginismus is the involuntary contraction of the vagina mussels that makes penetrative sex impossible or extremely painful. I found out that I had vaginismus after trying to put a tampon in when I was 16 years old. Although, to be honest I knew I had it when I was younger. My mom used to yell at me to get my tampon in and I never could. My Oma, being more understanding, let the tampon issue slide. She didn't believe in them anyways. Oma said that I could use them after I got married and I didn’t need to use them now. 

I grew up religious so I was fine with that. When I met my first boyfriend at the age of 19, we didn’t really start considering having sex until I we were about 20-21. It never worked. He couldn’t even touch me down there without me having a full blown panic attack. We stayed together for four years and he never held vagnismus against me. Even though my relationships would be rocky from that point on, he set me up for relationship success because I knew that men like Jake existed. I always remembered that there once was a guy who treated me well and I thank him for that. I knew that I would find the right guy for me because of dating JC. 

However, JC wanted to have 5 kids and live in our small town forever. I wanted to move out and on wards in life. In my pursuit of a better life, I met plenty of guys along the way. For some, vaginismus never came up, since they were on the more conservative religious side. One guy I tried to hook up with told me it was in my head and that I would get over it. Although it’s not that simple, thank you friend, you made me feel better after a rather shity experience.

I bounced around for a bit until I found my first romance out of high school. My 32 year old boyfriend at 23. First of all, any time a guy nearly ten years older then you wants to date you ladies, please watch out! There are women who can handle older men with no issues. For me though, I was green. 

I have no idea why he wanted to be with me besides the obvious reasons. He knew about my condition and he tired to help me in his own way. However, looking back this was a weird ass relationship with a 32 year old man that had no real job or direction. He never took me out, he never made me feel special - he was kind of a loser. 4 years later he would en up trying to pick up my friend in a coffee shop. She declined and he wouldn't stop texting her for a few weeks. Weird person, hard to go through being hurt by hi, at the time and he was 100 percent not “normal”. However, noting would prepare me for what was coming next. 

I made a wonderful friendship with a man that was kind and sweet. Him and I were not going anywhere as far as a real relationship was concerned - I had vaginisums and he had depression. However, it was a nice friendship and a good time - until he started getting confused. He would say he wanted to see other people but would get upset when I did. We would call each other daily at one point and then he would pull back. Then I would start seeing someone else and he would come jump in to my life again. He was a nice man, with a good heart but he didn’t love me like I wanted him to. I think I confused him. After all, living with vaginisumus is hard on the other person as well. He didn't want to get too close because he knew I could not commit to him.

Nevertheless, I moved on to date another man. This time, the man was 35 and I was 25. Once again, just my experience but this is a HUGE warning sign for a girl like me. I made 15 dollars an hour at the time and I had very little life experience. I had low self confidence and I was just starting to figure things out. I had no idea that I was about to go through the most terrible relationship of my life. Things I learned:

1. Pressure: Alan would pressure me for everything. I did not want to be in a relationship and Alan forced me to be in one. I was very happy just seeing guys and have things not going anywhere romantically. I liked the friendships I had and I was working full time on vaginismus. Alan would GUILT me to spend time with him. Lets talk about GUILT. GUILT does not mean he would threaten me, it means he would guilt me in to spending time with him. I would prioritize my career and he would get mad if I cancelled. I would tell him I was not ready for sex and instead of telling me he did not want to see me anymore or leaving it alone he would call it an ‘excuse’. He never recognized the genuine anxiety of vagnismus. He would talk about having kids and literally scream at me when I said I wanted to live in the city and might not want to give kids. I was 25 years old. 

2. I was afraid to talk. I was afraid to set Alan off.  He would not let me stand up for myself. He would walk away mid sentence if he didn’t hear something he liked. I was scared of him when he was angry,

3, I became dependent on him. He made me feel like no one would put up with my vaginismus. Even after we broke up, I would try to explain how much he hurt me and he would never accept how much it hurt being treated so badly just because I had vagninismus. 

4. Sexually abusive. Alan would yell at me when things did not work out sexually. He would leaving me crying after trying to make it work several times and I would be devastated.

5. Alan picked on my physical appearance by calling me fat, saying I need to shave my vagina hair and saying things about my lips and face. I was constantly criticized. 

6. Getting mad when I had no money even though he made way more money then me. 

Dear Alan, I hope you never become a father. If you do, I hope your daughter never meets a man like you so that she never had to go through what you have put me though. I hope your sons hold respect for women that you do not. I hope your wife and children do not live in fear of you like I did. I hope a woman has to strength to convey this to you that I did not. 

PAUSE

One day I cheated on Alan. I don’t regret it. I met up with my friend after a particularly bad fight on the phone. Alan was screaming at me for being upset. He was always so controlling and never allowed me to be upset. I was always fake happy around him. 

Fernando, the guy right before Alan, came and spoke with me. We kissed but not much more. He said to me, what are you doing? Why are you staying with this man? You think you have no options because of vagninsmus. This is treatable and you are hindering your treatment by experiencing more abuse. 

I left Alan the next day. Even though I still was confused and he continued to hurt me and treat me poorly. Even though I would slip up and confuse my emotions I was one step closer to freedom. 

I stayed with Fernando for a while then met my husband. I have a deep love for Fernando. A wonderful friend who treated me fairly. 

TO VAGINISMUS PEOPLE. You do not need a PARTNER to beat vagnismus. I was treated much better by my lover. People will pick on you if they see you have low self confidence. I know it is hard but try and build your self confidence. 

My husband and I have sex all the time no problem. That is a story for another time. 

Thank you for letting me unload my thoughts.

Read on MTS

As perfect as it is in theory, a white colonial style house with two stories, a big blue front door with a golden knocker emblazoned on the front is terribly unrealistic for life in the city. The property alone required for that sprawling backyard would cost a fortune worth several lifetimes over. Not to mention the price of that immaculate green lawn out front. Then there's the cost of the never-ending parade of gardeners for the grounds, housekeepers for the rooms, plumbers for those four bathrooms she insists were absolutely necessary, and of course, a nanny for the children, because how dare he expect her to renounce her career just because she's created a life. How god damn dare he. But no. Of course that's a ridiculous fantasy for a working couple living in the heart of Downtown Pleasantview. There's the cost. There's all that space, mocking her with its unresponsive emptiness. And moving back to the suburbs is obviously out of the question. The thought of being walking distance from her mother and sister makes her heartbeat spill into her ears. Not again. Besides, the apartment is nice enough. Nevermind that the floors creak and the porch light still isn't fixed after sixteen weeks of asking.

The apartment is cool inside, despite the heat of the day pooling just outside the kitchen window. Her tiny porcelain cups of wheat grass and soil are appreciative for the unobstructed light. Angela's gaze doesn't falter from looking across the table to admire her plants, proud as she is. A jolt of pain leaps up from the small of her back and across her vertebrae, then comes to rest somewhere at the base of her skull. Heat and throbbing soreness moans warily from the bottoms of her feet. Her skin chafes every second of every minute to accommodate her growing belly. To cope, she frantically applies butters and creams to her stomach at every trip to the bathroom. Sometimes she looks at her body in the mirror and grins, eager to meet the person sleeping inside it. Other times, she sobs as her mind suffers to reconcile her swollen belly and tired legs with the image of herself she's known for forever until now. Sometimes she plucks the hair from her scalp to regain some sense of control over the metamorphosing landscape of her own physical form. Sometimes she screams into a folded towel. Every time, she blots a makeup sponge under her eyes, reapplies her lipstick, and returns to society all clean and pretty.

Gazing back at his wife from across the table, Jake can't help the upward tilt of his lips. She's glowing. People always say that about pregnant women, but he's seen pregnant women, and nobody radiates like Angela. The muted scent of lavender and linen trails after her wherever she goes. Distant starlight catches the green of her eyes and blinds him with her absolute perfection. It wads his stomach in knots to look upon her and then remember himself.

She knows she's too good for him. She doesn't have to say as much, of course. The entire world showers cherry blossom petal praise and congratulations for her charming manner, pretty face, and sharp wit, then recoils in horror when they realize that man beside her is her husband. The sweet, sticky odor of hair gel and body spray heralds his presence before he even enters a room. Years of drunken revelry and cigarette smoke has made his voice husky. He saunters from place to place, constantly late, his attentions and affections carried on an unpredictable wind. They've moved more than twice because asking him to turn down the volume of his music is an assault on his creative expression. His reputation precedes him everywhere. "Him?" they all say. And it's getting harder to respond.

Her eyes linger on him as he walks past. She wrinkles her brow and implores his broad back to explain just what it is that tethers her to him. She hardly noticed him at all in college. He was her sister's plaything back then. Jacob Martin existed merely as a deep voice comingling in the raucous laughter that emanated from behind her sister's door. He was the nonchalant arm draped around Lilith's shoulders at the cafeteria. He was the lazy cheek kisses and the napping body beside her on the couch in the common room. He was an accessory to her antics, equally directionless and shallow. But a single drunken night of dancing and stolen kisses under the yellow glow of a streetlamp, and he's Mr. Pleasant-Martin. Angela smiles a meek smile. It had been a fun night, at least.

He perches on the couch beside her, crossing his legs at the ankles. "Angie, I've been thinking," he says. Angela cringes at the bastardization of her name. It's Angela, she wants to say. It's been six fucking years, Jacob, you know I like it "Angela", not "Angie", "Angel", or even goddamn "Jelly". But she steals a moment with eyes pinched close, a wrinkle of the nose, then responds, "What's that, babe?" He blossoms. Pet names are rare. "I want to throw you a baby shower. I promise, nothing big, just a little get-together for family and friends here at the house. I'll be conservative with the music, I'll leave the menu to you, and it'll just --" The corners of Angela's lips bow in not quite a smile. "It sounds great. Let's do it."

Of all the extended family, Jacob's dad is the over the most often. Angela thinks their relationship is unhealthy. Codependent. Jacob thinks that that's an overdramatic, assumptive assertion that she makes because she lives in abject fear of her own mother, and can't comprehend a relationship that deviates from that. He would never say so, but it's what he thinks. "Dude!" Jacob cries as he bats his father's hands away, "Don't tickle me, I'm like thirty." Andrew grins a lopsided grin and buries his fingers in Jacob's sides, "Shut up, you love it." They share a laugh.

Antithetical as they are, the two family groups mix without incident most of the time. Mary-Sue attempted a conversation with Jacob's father once. While the conversation languished around stocks and the state of the economy, she was perfectly enthused. Once Andrew decided to dust off the fart noises and impressions, Mary-Sue had written him off as an intellectual dead end. These days, she greets him with a single nod of acknowledgement and nothing more. Andrew, who cannot bear the thought of not being liked, nurses his hurt feelings with food every time he and Mary-Sue are in the same room. It works for them.

Lilith and Jacob remain friends, though not as close as they used to be. They lounge around the house together watching television or playing video games under Angela's skeptical surveillance. Neither one has any interest in rekindling their sexual relationship, but Lilith likes the anxiety in brings to her twin's stupidly immaculate household, so she lets Angela worry.

Angela's eyes flit between her sister's face and the protrusion of her own pregnant stomach. She surveys with displeasure the shaggy red tresses that drape across her twin's forehead and curl near her ears. It's better than when she was bald for a year, sure, but not by much. Angela finds it hard to look at her sister for more than a few minutes at a time. The familiarity of those features -- that same freckled nose and pale face, those same, cutting green eyes staring back into her own -- makes her want to peel her skin off and inhabit someone, anyone, else.

She dips her chin downward to draw attention to Lilith's belly. "That's new. Don's the dad?"

Lilith smirks. "Sure is."

"I'm glad we're pregnant at the same time, this way our kids can --"

Lilith cups her hand before her lips and shakes loose a yawn. "Angela, nothing would be more boring to me than playing the whole 'twinsies' game with our kids and forcing ourselves together for Sunday brunch or whatever contrived, inauthentic bullshit you've concocted to appease our terrible mother."

Anxious, incensed butterflies flood Angela's stomach. Their sickly yellow wings bat against each other. Scarlet heat rises to the surface of her skin. Her face flushes. Her ears numb. She can feel the blood swirling beneath her flesh, and it makes her sick. She fixes a smile upon her face as she winds her fingers into fists at her sides. She pictures glass fracturing in the beds of her palms, sheer edges pressing to her skin and alleviating the thrum of her heart, the rage in her veins, for just a moment.

It's fine.

"Congratulations, Lilith." she softly says.

It's fine. Angela is a great daughter-in-law. She's intelligent. She's lovely. She's kind. She is an excellent addition to any family, and anyone who doesn't see her value is obviously worthless, themselves. She throws her arms around her father-in-law and wraps him in a warm embrace. He smells like paperwork and brandy, and for a moment, Angela worries that he's driven here. Nevermind. She pulls back.

"Andrew, thanks for coming. We're always so happy to have you."

She wonders if he can tell her words are hollow.

Angela's mouth begins to water and her stomach lurches. Nausea blurs her vision and burns her throat. She touches a few fingertips to her lips and heads for the bathroom.

A melodic voice cuts through the mental noise awash in Angela's head.

"Angela!" the voice says, "Congratulations, sweetheart! Have you picked out any names?"

Her throat constricts and the gushing, angry bloodflow ebbs for a moment as she registers Meadow Broke's face. She can feel her pupils reduce to pinpricks in the center of her eyes, a thieving raccoon caught in the glow of a flashlight. Her attention bounds between Meadow and the man approaching behind her. Oh good, Dustin's here. It was only a kiss and she didn't know they were engaged. Either way, Meadow stole him from her first, so really, it all cancels out. They're over it. It's fine.

"Hey!" she says too loudly, "Th-thanks for being here. I have a few names I really like, but Jacob wants to wait until we meet the baby to decide."

Meadow chuckles. "And it's driving you crazy, right?"

She presses the inside of her lip between her teeth, then forces a laugh. 

"Completely nuts."

Mary-Sue Pleasant has a way of looking through to the core of people. She sees through the miles of coping mechanisms, aesthetic distractions, and defensive walls to the heart of their character. In another life, she may very well have made an excellent therapist. But in this one, her perception and intuition about people is stained by the inky black streaks of judgment she paints upon them, deeming them worthy or not of her respect, her acceptance, her praise. Currently, she looks upon the unkempt frame of her son-in-law at a party he's cobbled together to celebrate the impending arrival of the child he's made with her daughter. Mary-Sue is elated at the thought of meeting this darling bundle of untapped potential, but immeasurably disappointed when she considers its father.

"Hello, Jacob," she says dully as he makes his approach. He looks stern.

"We need to talk. Before the baby comes, before anybody makes any decisions about childcare, education, expectations -- whatever -- you and me have to talk."

Mary-Sue cocks a brow and leans onto one hip, her arms fanned confidently at her sides and and utterly unimpressed frown scrawled across her face. "I agree, we do need to have a discussion."

Jacob parts his lips, but Mary-Sue plows through his opportunity.

"I'm not like everyone else, Jacob. I'm not going to do this dance with you, protect your flimsy self-esteem. Let me be transparent: I am unhappy with the choice my daughter has made. I don't think you're right for her or for this family, but I cannot make her decisions for her. What we're looking at is an eternity tethered to each other through this child, and while that's obviously not ideal for either of us --"

"I don't have a problem with you, Mary."

"Mary-Sue. And fine, obviously it's not ideal for me. But seeing as there's no way around it, there are a few things I'm going to need from you. One, find a real job. I will not have my daughter and grandchild's fate hinging on the potential for upward mobility for a DJ."

Jacob scowls. "Emcee."

"That is literally the exact same thing, Jacob. Do you even hear yourself?" The older woman sucks in a breath and releases it with great effort. "One, real job. I can get you a job at Dirk Dreamer's firm, and you will take it. Two, the child will attend private school and university, nonnegotiable. Three, get a real house. I will not have my grandchild raised in an apartment of this condition on the poor side of the city. Are we clear?"

Jacob grits his teeth. "You're being insanely demeaning to me in my own home at a party I threw to honor your daughter, and I won't take your --"

Mary-Sue clucks her tongue and shakes her head softly. "Mind your tone, Jacob. It's Angela's party and we don't want to cause her any undue stress, do we? Think of the baby."

Jacob sighs. "Fine. But we'll continue this later."

Mary-Sue chuckles. "If we must."

"Oh, hey Angela. You feeling okay?"

Angela brushes her wrist across her mouth, having emerged from the bathroom renewed. She glances down at Jules O'Mackey, sitting sentinel upon the sofa.

"Me? Yeah, I'm great."

Jules warms to her just a little. "Well, good. I've watched you run around all night long, and I wanna be sure you're okay. Want to sit?"

Angela shakes her head with a neighborly smile. "No, but thank you. I prefer to stand."

"Alright. Just mind your stress, alright? I have no doubt you can handle it, I'm just thinking of that kid in there."

Angela nods.

Jules glimpses some space else with a wistful sheen in her eyes. "I just can't believe Jake is having a kid. I mean we're all at that age, right? Everyone's got their partners now, Dustin and Meadow have Summer, and -- it's silly, but as a kid I was so sure Jake and I were gonna end up together. I wonder if he'll say anything about me to that little guy of yours."

In her stunned silence, Angela can hear the sound of Jacob's voice as he spins a mostly true story from the kitchen.

"Anyways, Lilith told me there was no way to crush a full can of soda against my head, and I said 'not with that attitude, there's not'. So that's how I wound up getting eight stitches in my head at the hospital on New Years Eve."

She watches Jules' smug, self-satisfied freckled fucking face, something monstrous bubbling to the surface. Her shoulders pitch and her nostrils flare once, then twice. She can feel her throat constrict and her muscles pull against the bone. She inhales through her nose and cool air meets her scalding lungs. She plants a loving hand upon her own stomach and glowers down the bridge of her nose at Jules. It's fine. It really is.

"Don't worry, Jules, I'm sure it'll happen for you eventually," she says, a cakey sweetness laden in her voice.

"And that's how I met Angela again after college!” she can hear Jacob sing from the kitchen.

Angela steals away to the bedroom after most the guests take their leave. She sleeps an uneasy rest, drenched in sweat, sharp pains electrifying her skin and insides from her navel outward. She yanks her entire body upright and fumbles with the blankets, hands shaking. The sheets are drenched down to the mattress, and her body aches under the immense pressure building in her abdomen. She can't catch her breath. She throws herself from the bed and wails, grasping at her stomach.

"Jacob, wake up!" she screams.

"Wait a minute, let me call the hospital." Jacob mutters as he tears himself from the bed.

"No time!"

"Holy shit, is that--?!"

The minutes pass like small eternities, one by one, and eventually, where before there were two, there are three.

Angela pulls the baby to her chest and wipes away the sweat from her forehead with an arm. She presses a few tired kisses to the baby's skin before inhaling his scent.

"Whoo! You did it, Angie! And I'm only sort of traumatized for life."

Angela smirks against the baby's shoulder. "Wanna hold him?"

“What do we call him?” she asks.

There’s a palpable thickness to the silence between them. Jacob gazes into the brand new face of his child -- his child -- and two little brown eyes gaze back. He chokes on the wet wad of emotion that eases up his throat, then replies.

“Munn.”

“What? ‘Munn’?”

“His name is Munn.”

The Burden of Perceived Motherhood

What is a woman’s life worth, outside of her ability to have children or conceive? Seemingly nothing. Who is a woman, if not a mother or a potential mother? Seemingly no one. This is, by and large, the average belief held by the average person. It may not be so blatant with some, but the fact of the matter is that the majority of people – whether they be religious or not, feminist or not, progressives or conservatives – refuse to detach motherhood from womanhood. How can you be a woman if you are not a mother, and do not want to be one? This insidious attitude rests within the societal collective mind, popping up in various forms and demanding that we as women must adhere to our “biological destiny”. This malignant and pervasive perspective tells a woman she must have children – it’s expected of her to want them, to seek out a future of births and diapers and raising babies – and if this woman does not want this for herself, this perception tells her that she is too stupid to understand her own wants and needs. Silly woman,you don’t know yourself that well. Stupid woman, you don’t understand the kind of decision you’re making.

It is, frankly, insulting.

I very recently experienced something rather troubling; a reminder of the adamant belief held by most that a woman’s fate rests in her uterus. I call this belief perceived motherhood – where people expect you to have a child even when you don’t want one. They belittle you by insisting that you don’t know what you actually want out of life. This happened to me not from strangers, or religious fanatics, but my own self-proclaimed and otherwise liberal ‘friends’. These two friends – one a woman (W) and one a man (M) – are people who have known me for nearly a decade. I have been adamantly childfree for longer than that. This is something about my own life that I’ve been incredibly vocal and steadfast about. I have never wavered in my decision to refrain from procreating, nor will I. They know this. Yet what they said to me was a supremely hurtful reminder that to many I’m not a person – just an incubator.

It started with the both of them saying that they could see me having children, but only boys. Something about me, my personality, screamed baby boys. At this early point in the conversation, I was fine and playing along, even if I did disagree. It was all in good spirit anyways – just playful ribbing. Except that it wasn’t. What I thought were silly jokes was actually a deeply rooted belief that they both held that I would be a mother one day, no matter what. When they said to me, “Yeah, A, you’re totally gonna have boys.” I replied, “No, not this womb. Closed for business!”

They pushed. W: “You say that, but you’re wrong! People always have ironic stuff happen to them, like my aunt. She made fun of my mom for having an ugly baby, and then BAM – she was the one with the ugly baby.”

M: “Yeah, you’re gonna find a man who dicks you so good that you’ll keep the baby.”

At this point, although I was getting agitated, I continued to play along because I still thought they were teasing me. I never would’ve guessed that my own longtime friends thought so little of me, or of my values and wants. I said to them, “Maybe you guys don’t understand English as well as I thought ya’ll did. NO –” I pointed to my lower stomach “– salida!”

M: “No, A, you’re gonna find a man and he’s gonna get you pregnant. You’re gonna have kids.”

A: “I’ll abort them. They ain’t surviving the wasteland of my vagina.”

R: “No, see, they’re gonna be like Charlie [Kelly; a character from ‘It’s Always Sunny’]. The abortion won’t take. You’ll try and try and he’ll live. You won’t abort him because you can’t.”

A: “Nope, not happening. There isn’t a sperm strong enough out there to survive my kind of abortion – it’s not gonna happen.”

This, unbelievably, went on for some time. There even came a point where R said to me verbatim, “Look at your boobs, those were made for milking.” and Z agreed, saying, “Yeah, you can feed, like, six kids with those.”

Milking. Because I’m an animal. Not a person. Because my large breasts make me unfit for anything but childrearing. To them, I’m a pair of tits and ass (or rather, tits and vag).

I wanted the conversation to end. I was uncomfortable, flabbergasted by the ‘milking’ comment and frankly so done with the topic of children. I just wanted to go home. But they continued, bringing up with delight scenarios in which I would be forced to have children against my will.

Yes, you read that right. My own friends excitedly told me about a variety of futures in which I was forced to carry a child to term – and bear the burden of all the consequences associated with pregnancy and birth. To any rational person, that should be considered utterly heinous. Oftentimes, many abusers will sabotage forms birth control and force their wives or girlfriends to carry a child to term in order to further entangle them in the relationship. The unfortunate woman is more reluctant, or even outright unable to leave the volatile, unhealthy relationship when a child is involved. In some ways, forced birth can even be considered rape. At it’s core, it’s a violation of a person’s basic human rights: the right to choose what happens to their own body.

R said to me, “Ohh, what if you’re in a coma and you’re pregnant and you have kids like that! Or like ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ [a show we’d both been watching, about a religious society which takes away women’s rights and forces them to be sex slaves with the ultimate goal of birth] where you have sex with three different men before you get pregnant [referencing how, in the show, if the slaves don’t give birth after 3 “assignments” they get shuttled off to a radioactive wasteland to die] –”

At this point I cut her off. I’d had enough; I was blind with rage at the references to The Handmaid’s Tale. Fury flowed through me at the thought that my ‘friends’ were so desperate to see me have children that my forced pregnancy was a happy and likely scenario to them (remember, they were talking about how everyone has ‘ironic’ lives). This wasn’t joking anymore; it wasn’t even joking to begin with, really. Because they have said before that they just can’t see me as anything but a mother. And that night, they were saying it again – but with a fervor and insistency that both angered and frightened me.

I told them off. I told them that I was not getting pregnant because I hate the idea of being a mother. I see pregnant women and I get angry (this is an issue due to my own upbringing; I’ll get to it soon). I think of pregnancy and I want to vomit. I absolutely 100% abhor the idea of a parasite growing inside of me, feeding on my body, my nutrients, crushing my organs and generally fucking with me.

I’ve been forced to care for my younger sibling as though I was her mother from a very young age; when I was older, I was forced to care for my ailing parents alongside my sibling. I’ve never been allowed to be a child. I’ve never been given the opportunity to have fun and live life carefree, without any worry. Many of my peers were able to be young and enjoy it. I had to sacrifice all that so my family wouldn’t suffer. I couldn’t go to college, I couldn’t seek out a career that I enjoyed. Ultimately, I couldn’t even enjoy my own earnings because they went to caring for my brat sister and my parents who, in their senility, were reverting to child-like thinking and mannerisms. In essence, I was a mother of three.

Let me tell you now, with full conviction and in all sincerity and seriousness: I despise having dependents. I never, EVER want to be in a situation where someone needs me or they’ll die/suffer again. The stress of doing what I had to do gave me moderate depression. I was hospitalized, constantly felt despair and anguish, and felt like there was no hope for me. I could not live the life I wanted, or be the person that I truly was, because of my dependents.

I hate it, and I will do anything to avoid it happening again.

I also grew up in a Muslim household, with a fanatical family who frequently told me (among other disgusting things) that I am destined to be a mother, and that if I won’t bear children no man will want me; I will die alone and unhappy. I both reject and detest the sentiment – I am a person outside of my ability or willingness to conceive.

Furthermore, I have experienced some of the things the women in The Handmaid’s Tale do. I was almost a teen bride, the only thing standing in the way was my father miraculously saying no, he wouldn’t sell me to a stranger just yet. I have visited my parent’s country of origin and was forced to wear hijab. In that country, I was subjected to a number of demeaning things, such as a curfew, not being allowed entrance to places, being hit, being threatened with violence, being told not to entice men by crossing my legs – you get the idea.

I remember encountering so many women who were my age at the time (15) and even younger being married off. I remember meeting a woman who was married to a man three times her age when she was twelve years old; at the time she was in her early thirties, and had continued the tradition with her own daughters. She became a great-grandmother in my time there. Above all, I experienced people from every side hounding on me that I was a woman, therefore I would also be a mother. No matter what. Womanhood = motherhood. I, apparently, could not be one without the other. These are things about my past my friends know, which is why their comments hurt me so much.

I know what I want for myself. I don’t want children. I won’t have them. I sincerely believe in the phrase “Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”. I am a human being, with certain inalienable rights. One of these rights is to choose what happens to my body. I can be an organ donor. I can get buried instead of cremated. I can have tattoos and cut my hair. And, ultimately, I can choose to never have my womb put to use. I knew, from the ripe old age of eleven, that I didn’t want to be a mother. Just about everything else in my life that I’ve experienced has reinforced this.

I shouldn’t even have to say why I don’t want children. It should be as simple as “I don’t want them” and that’s that. But instead, people hound and badger and question – and in doing so, belittle those they are speaking to. As I said earlier, it is evident that women, though we may have our rights in the western world, are still thought of primarily as mothers.

I am a person god fucking damn it! I am a person, first and foremost, and my life has value and meaning outside of children. I can impact society for the better without being a mother. I can accomplish great feats without being a mother. I can learn and create and help society and people progress – all without ever having given birth. And even if I don’t do these things, my life holds meaning. I’m important, not because I’m a potential mother, but because I am a human being.

I am intelligent, I am caring and creative and enjoy history and want to work for the CDC or the WHO one day. I want to be a part of the trips to Mars. I like writing fiction. Noir is one of my favorite genres. I like fashion and minimalism and want to better myself physically and mentally. I see many futures and possibilities for myself. I hope I can become a scientist, like I want. I hope I can help eradicate disease.

I am a person, simple as that. Kids don’t make me who I am. I have worth, by virtue of being me. No one can take that from me. No one will.

I stand strong in the face of this burden of perceived motherhood because I know who I am, I know what I want out of life, and no one is going to take my liberty from me.

“I am the master of my fate

 I am the captain of my soul”

 -         ‘Invictus’, William Ernest Henley