#finn is simultaneously so hard and so easy to draw

[myspacepoet]

been on a binge of everything finn wolfhard has ever been in lately so heres a boris for all my borisheads out there.

[id in alt, do not repost]

[abirdonathrone]

dude i did not expect my last art post to do as well as it did but y'all motivated me to make more art so thx

spoiler alert my artstyle is non-existent so if you liked the style of my last artwork then too bad because my brain will never let me draw like that again for some reason

anywaysss here is a digital painting of one of my favourite scenes for obvious reasons lol

[ficclique]

In addition to our own personal top fics (which you can view here), we asked you all to send us your choices for your fics of the decade and why you loved them. We received so many wonderful submissions, and now want to share them with everybody! In an effort to not make this post too long we’ve edited down the comments that people left us, but everyone had some really lovely things to say, so if anything catches your eye here we really encourage you to take a look at the complete list of comments here.

Without further ado, please enjoy the top fics of the decade as chosen by you, our listeners: 

Submitted by: Cricket

Fic 1: pilgrimage by wolfsupremacist

Info: EXO RPF, Baekhyun/Sehun

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18411497/chapters/43607615

Cricket’s comment: I can't get over all the building in this fic -- the world building, the character building, the relationship building. The main character’s development was like watching a child grow: it's hard to see it happening, but once you reflect on who he became versus who he was, it's so obvious how he changed.

Fic 2: the eye of providence by minhyukwithagun

Info: NCT RPF, Jaehyun/Taeyong

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14981330

Cricket’s comment: I have genuinely never laughed so hard while reading a fic.There were so many little details that the author added that were unnecessary to the overall plot but just made the characters so much more real. You get to learn so much about everyone in such a (relatively) short amount of time.

Fic 3: so collect your scars and wear them well by addandsubtract

Info: Hockey RPF, Connor McDavid/Dylan Strome

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5075128

Cricket’s comment: I feel like this fic changed me as a writer. It touches on such a relatable subject: that feeling of being completely unsure of what you should do with your life when Plan A doesn't work out, and discovering who you are without the thing that you previously thought defined you.

━

Submitted by: Claire

Fic 1: The Baffled King and The Idiot Hero by Ellarose C

Info: Hetalia, ?

Link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/5819880/1/

Claire’s comment: This fic launched 3 of my high school friendships that continue to this day. It's cute and Hallmark levels of unrealistic, and I LOVE it. The overwhelming nostalgia and gratefulness I feel towards this fic (and all of Carrie's work, honestly) still blows me away.

Fic 2: Embers by Vathara

Info: Avatar: The Last Airbender, gen

Link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/5398503/1/

Claire’s comment: The best, wildest, most comprehensively worldbuilt ATLA fic I have ever read. Tea, dragons, realistic motivations, that ending... perfect. *chef kiss*

Fic 3: Of A Linear Circle (series) by flamethrower

Info: HP, various

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/755028

Claire’s comment: I linked the whole series because I simply cannot pick a favorite installment. OaLC focuses on fixing the glaring plot holes in the Wizarding education system, accurately depicting the Founders' Era thanks to copious research, and showing that no one is truly irredeemable (except Voldemort himself, who more than earns it).

━

Submitted by: Threepwillow

Fic 1: All the Other Ghosts by rainjoys

Info: Glee, Kurt/Blaine

Link: https://rainjoyswriting.livejournal.com/146587.html

Threepwillow’s comment: All The Other Ghosts and its direct sequel, Grey, are some of the most incredibly original and simultaneously incredibly transformative works of fanfiction I have ever read. The way they masterfully twist elements of canon to fit into the lore of their AU is second only to the profound, revelatory character studies that they've executed. This shit is extraordinary.

━

Submitted by: Segs

Fic 1: Hemostuck (series) by roachpatrol and urbanAnchorite

Info: Homestuck, various

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/8470

Seg’s comment: THE WORLDBUILDING. THE ARTWORK. THE NARRATIVE VOICE(S). THE INCREDIBLE GRASP ON CHARACTERIZATION. DID I MENTION THE WORLDBUILDING.

Fic 2: transistor by fishcola

Info: Polygon RPF, Brian/Pat

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18760093/chapters/44503969

Seg’s comment: Rips my heart to shreds piece-by-piece and then gently puts it back together in the end. It's another put-these-characters-in-a-darker-setting sort of thing. It is brilliant and beautiful and I love it dearly.

Fic 3: any sign of spring by bluecarrot

Info: Hamilton, Hamilton/Burr

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7523227/chapters/17100376

Seg’s comment: This fic is so dang atmospheric. It feels very physical -- the temperature, the environment, the drawing. It's bittersweet, but ends on the sweet, and I think the sweetness is all the more emphasized for it. Rereading it feels like coming back to a familiar place.

━

Submitted by: Ang

Fic 1: Anarchy In The U.K. by Yahtzee

Info: X-Men First Class, Erik/Charles

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673552/chapters/1232410

Ang’s comment: the writing of this one made it so easy to get completely lost in the au while still knowing the characters so well from the source material! super engaging, totally consumed my life for a week

Fic 2: blackjacks running down by back by dangerbears

Info: 1D, Harry/Louis

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499474

Ang’s comment: this is like my comfort blanket fic! every time i reread it (even though i'm not in that fandom anymore), it's still just as funny and cute as it was the very first time i read it - again the au is so easily believable because the characterizations are so familiar.

Fic 3: this city bleeds its aching heart by renne

Info: MCU, Steve/Bucky

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835829

Ang’s comment: unsurprisingly, it's another au that is so easy to fall into! this is another one that i've been consistently rereading since i first read it (in 2015, for this one) because it's my absolute favorite trope with a ship that i'm still very much into!

━

Submitted by: Scout

Fic 1: she called it a void by vans88

Info: Star Wars, Finn/Poe/Rey

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5493500

Scout’s comment: Short and powerful and essential to anyone's viewing of the new Star Wars trilogy. Seriously one of the most careful, tender, and graceful queer addendums to a piece of pop culture this decade.

Fic 2: The Love Song of The North American Douchebag by gyzym

Info: Star Trek RPF, Chris/Zach

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852395

Scout’s comment: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, I HOPE I CAN SWEAR. I'm not even in this fandom. The world building is just THAT good. It's one of my highlights *because* of its power to draw me in as a standalone. So much fucking talent in the transformative work community. The banter, characterization, sardonic-ness of this – international impact baby!

Fic 3: all this learning here is by you by decinq, nighimpossible

Info: Hockey RPF, Jamie Benn/Tyler Seguin

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5105441

Scout’s comment: Revolutionized – and I would argue – drove the GROWTH AND SURVIVAL of hockey fandom. One of the best known works in the fandom, and a masterclass in how to build a set of characters that you're genuinely envious you don't get to see or know. Two incredible authors and a plethora of personality. Fun and sexy and lighthearted but poignant. Chef kiss.

━

Submitted by: Em

Fic 1: the subtle science and exact art of chess-boxing, by fishcola

Info: Polygon RPF, Brian/Pat

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18931885/chapters/44945971

Em’s comment: fishcola is definitely one of the top reasons i actually started reading/writing polygon rpf. this fic!!!!! i sWEAR its so /so/ good oh my GOSH. yes, full disclosure im fish's beta for chessboxing but also i am enthusiastic simply because it is a very beautiful and powerful narrative on trauma, healing, and how the people we choose to interact with affect our emotions.

Fic 2: the old men call me by my mother’s name by theviolonist

Info: HP, Hermione/Ron

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044467

Em’s comment: as a certified Trans(TM) im always pursuing and consuming trans content. the old men call me by my mother's name is an hp fic that i still cherish years after first reading it. trans!ron is a concept not often explored in hp fic, much less trans /girl/ ron. massive gender feels, folks.

Fic 3: national hot dad alliance is now calling… by dicaeopolis, owlinaminor

Info: Haikyuu! , various

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5663683/chapters/13045579

Em’s comment: national hot dad alliance really is the perfect evolution of a groupchat fic. i laughed, i cried, i fell in love with the characters all over again as these captains from different teams bond over graduating. and also being Dads(TM). in some cases-- pining over their fellow volleyball players-- plus star wars, the x-files, and memes. overall its is very good and i will stan it eternally

━

Submitted by: Staci

Fic 1: No Homo, by orphan account

Info: Teen Wolf, Stiles/Derek

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148039/chapters/2326073

Staci’s comment: Literally my favorite AU ever written. The characterization is SO on point and it truly is a super fun read. It’s also a super long which helps with painting such a detailed picture of these two dummies who are-totally-just-bros-with-added-benefits. I’d recommend this to anyone, even if they’re unaware of Teen Wolf, but if you’re a Teen Wolf fan then it’s even better.

━

Submitted by: Nadine

Fic 1: Too Long, Too Close (series) by callmejude

Info: MCU RPF, Chris/Sebastian

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/253528

Nadine’s comment: kink exploration and bdsm done well.... and so thoroughly. but there's more! theres FEELINGSSSSSS uhhhhhhh it made me CRY it's so good.

Fic 2: On a Clear Day by Saras_Girl

Info: HP, Harry/Draco

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879841

Nadine’s comment: I could've put a few other fics by this author because they write the best drarry but uhhhhh. I had to choose and it was either gonna be TURN or this one. Idk why but this one makes me so unbelievably emotional bc it was Harry who's Going Through Stuff and I just loved it a lot.

Fic 3: around the world in eighty thousand days, by fallfreely

Info: 1D, Liam/Harry

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856935

Nadine’s comment: It was hard to pick a 1D fave but I think that this fic always had a v special place in my heart & I can't even explain why. I love the dynamic of this pairing (even though it's not even my OTP, wtf. I'm a Gryles and Narry truther... *eye emoji*) and the whole FEEL of this fic and it's slow burn tour fic, soo.

━

Submitted by: Frecklebomb

Fic 1: Shalbatana

Info: Mars Trilogy, Gen

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6629

Frecklebomb’s comment: A beautifully-written gen fic (with an incredibly gorgeous podfic by Luzula) in the near-future-scifi Mars Trilogy fandom but very easy to enjoy without canon knowledge. I revisit this story over and over and always marvel at the presence of the landscape and alien planet in it, the way it feels like a character. Bonus Mars rover feelings (I cry every time about the robot).

Fic 2: Through a Glass Darkly, by susiecarter

Info: DCU, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19395793/chapters/46155535

Frecklebomb’s comment: Sprawling post-apocalyptic epic, so rich and cinematic that it feels like a movie I somehow read. The worldbuilding and tension of the focal ship are what sucked me into this fic, but what stayed with me was the richness of the ensemble characters. I find myself just thinking about their character arcs, and imagining what they'd be doing post-story. I want fic of this fic.

Fic 3: Too Far Down The Road, by SoniaVice

Info: Hockey, OMC/OMC

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13208136/chapters/30212907

Frecklebomb’s comment: An amnesia trope origfic set in handwavey hockey fandom (author said they 'set it free' to be OMC/OMC when the dynamic needed to be different from the RPF ship it started out as). It gives me so many good feelings about family (of choice and otherwise) and ageing and self-acceptance and sexuality, and the way you can choose to be changed by the people you spend your life with.

━

Submitted by: Em (Springsteen)

Fic 1: Pull Me Under, by zarah5

Info: 1D, Harry/Louis

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870766

Em’s comment: first of all zarah5 is a fandom legend. second, this is like the pinnacle of fake relationship fics to me it's 140k and so much of it is pining and like truly, who among us doesn't love harry styles with their whole heart. I can't think about the '10s without thinking about one direction and when this fic came out I remember a lot of people fully losing their minds.

Fic 2: Door to Door, by Ferritin4

Info: Hockey RPF, Jamie Benn/Tyler Seguin

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3478298

Em’s comment: this is one of the first hockey fics I ever read and I still come back to it so often. The relationship builds so well, Tyler's dogs are in it, it's just so sweet, and plus it's a very readable 10k.

Fic 3: Darling It Is No Joke, by thehoyden

Info: Teen Wolf, Stiles/Derek

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399194

Em’s comment: look I can't be retrospective about this decade and /not/ include a sterek fic. the first half of this decade for me was all 1d and teen wolf and full disclosure, it's been a while since I've reread this fic, but I remember the banter being really stellar and thehoyden is another one of those authors who I just. Adore.

━

Submitted by: Dan

Fic 1: The Heart Rate of a Mouse (series) by Anna (arctic_grey)

Info: Bandom, Ryan Ross/Brendan Urie

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/712953

Dan’s comment: This fic is incredibly iconic. It’s definitely one of my favorites of all time—the way the story is told is just heart wrenching, and it manages to always keep you on edge about what’s going to happen. The portrayal of self discovery, love, jealousy, down to the settings and all the social issues of the time period (the 70s), is amazingly done.

Fic 2: The Cat’s Miaow by Pennyplainknits

Info: Bandom, Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930529

Dan’s comment: This fic is unlike anything else I’ve read. First off, I LOVE historical AUs, and the noir setting is everything I could have wanted and more. The author has managed to create such a delicate and profound romance along with an interesting plot that borders on thriller without ever going too far with either side of the story.

Fic 3: Get Real Get Right (Fuckin Right) by sophiahelix

Info: Riveyonce Cuoknowles, Sufjan Stevens/Drake

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9029020

Dan’s comment: Honestly? This is just art.

━

Submitted by: Carina

Fic 1: Bite Marks by provocative_envy

Info: HP, Hermione/Draco

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3580953/chapters/7894464

Carina’s comment: i've shied away from aus in harry potter fic for years, especially american college aus but this fic in my opinion kept the best of the characters and modernized them in a way that felt true to who they are.

Fic 2: old jokes from a wild youth, by knightspur

Info: SEVENTEEN RPF, Mingyu/Minghao

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18127073

Carina’s comment: mingyu and minghao are in love, but they're not soulmates. i love the dynamics and the quiet intimacy between them, and also how they work through wanting to be together despite them not having a bond in the way soulmates have.

━

Submitted by: Katy

Fic 1: The River and The Deep Green Bend by liquidmeasure

Info: 1D, Harry/Niall

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6005275

Katy’s comment: this fic honestly surpasses the genre of fic. it is a genre all its own. it is the pinnacle in catharsis and heartbreak and having a satisfying end that is completely unsatisfying as well. I will never recover from this fic.

Fic 2: Out of the Dead Land by Orphan Account

Info: MCU, Steve/Bucky

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1871955

Katy’s comment: there is a specific phrase in this fic that has and will continue to stay with me. I will never hear the phrase "up or down" without feeling immense heartbreak. an amazing blend of source material to create something altogether its own - but could still take place in either canon

Fic 3: Up We Go by Oh_Hey_Tae

Info: BTS, Taehyung/Jimin

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12297168

Katy’s comment: this fic is one that I found more recently, but I can already tell that it is one that is going to stick with me for a long long time. it is another fic that I feel transcends the genre of fic entirely

━

Submitted by: Corie

Fic 1: Build A Temple In Me by Authoress

Info: Haikyuu!, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3716002

Corie’s comment: A wonderful and moving fanfic with fantasy akin to studio ghibli. If I have to recommend Haikyuu fanfiction this is it.

Fic 2: Close to the Chest by darkmagicalgirl

Info: Haikyuu!, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3898771/chapters/8721568

Corie’s comment: Another haikyuu!! Fic! I remember reccing this to my friend and she said it was more akin to a novel then any fanfiction she has read. High praise IMO

Fic 3: Fake Sugar by minverse

Info: BTS, Jungkook/Seokjin

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14707098/chapters/33987549

Corie’s comment: Oh sweet god I love minverse’s writing and this fic has it all. Romance, smut, and a nice dollop of humor.

━

Submitted by: Abby

Fic 1: an awful curse by blinkiesays

Info: Teen Wolf, Stiles/Derek

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604092

Abby’s comment: Non-linear timeline, au within the story, "every me loves every you," domesticity but also heavy angst, and it's so beautifully written it makes me want to cry reading it. also it harkens back to the time of when the show was still good.

Fic 2: dance this silence down (the emergency room remix) by Fahye

Info: Les Miserables, Enjorlas/Grantaire

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994140/chapters/1966093

Abby’s comment: It's such a great, understandable ensemble fic for a dense canon, with such a great modern day au setting, but the whole time it really deals with the main character's depression and alcoholism and the complete overwhelming love that he has for the guy he's shipped with. it's so gritty and real but the ending brings so much hope I love it.

Fic 3: comment fic by anon

Info: iCarly, Sam/Spencer

Link: https://author-abz.livejournal.com/35003.html

Abby’s comment: this is an ANONYMOUS comment fic someone wrote me when I was feeling down on LJ and it's so short but so complete, and it says everything it needs to about it being okay to mess up and just be messed up together. also: "glitter emergency" (technically a cheat, it's from 2008; I forgot it was so old)

━

Submitted by: Kassie

Fic 1: An Exercise in ‘Worthless’ by beastofthesky

Info: Supernatural, Dean/Castiel

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535676

Kassie’s comment: an exercise in worthless introduced me (indirectly) to my favorite musician and (directly) to the subject i almost minored in during undergrad, so honestly i would put it as a fic of the decade even if it wasn’t one of the best fics i read in the supernatural fandom.

Fic 2: Superstition (series) by Superstition_hockey

Info: Hockey, OMC/OMC

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/413233

Kassie’s comment: superstition started out as a tropey, fun, lighthearted short fic, and grew into a big thing that deals with a lot of serious topics incredibly well while also being still very funny and emotional and having honestly some of my favorite fictional characters i’ve read in years

Fic 3: United States v. Barnes

Info: MCU, Steve/Bucky

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2304905/chapters/5071058

Kassie’s comment: united states v barnes is the multimedia fic of my DREAMS. this is what i want to show people to explain why i love fanfic so much. it does so much with the medium its working in and the presentation of the fic, and fits that perfect fanfic niche of exploring the kind of background that will never appear in canon but that everyone wonders about.

━

Submitted by: Kat

Fic 1: I’ve felt and I’ve Been by autotunedd

Info: Big Bang RPF, Seunghyun/Jiyong

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15349758/chapters/35616516

Kat’s comment: Possibly the fic that marked my entire decade. The characters are so human and real, the plot is heavy and winding and the twists sometimes seem life ending. It is heavy, it is painful, it is sad, it is angsty, it is maybe even a smidge too real and dangerous at times, but it makes a solid read, a long, relatable novel about real people with real fears and problems.

Fic 2: Eversion by thespectaclesofthor

Info: Detroit: Become Human, Hank Anderson/Connor

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15754140/chapters/36638253

Kat’s comment: Beautiful, long, detailed, well written, hard hitting, serious, sweet, painful, kinky, all in one! The characters have so much depth, their issues and inner workings seem so real and the plot is so carefully crafted and detailed, every chapter keeps you at the edge of your seat. All in all, beautifully crafted, passionate, hard hitting piece that I couldn't help falling in love with.

Fic 3: Eggshell Landscapes and the Burden of Love by NoContractTermination

Info: NCT RPF, Taeil/Johnny

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10446438

Kat’s comment: Short, sweet, angsty and charming! I loved the intimate look into their relationship this fic brings, the trials and tribulations and the struggle to communicate. It all seemed so raw and real and coupled with the author's beautiful writing, it all came together in a perfect read, with bounds of re-read potential.

━

Submitted by: Wen

Fic 1: the bellwether by highoctane

Info: Polygon RPF, Brian/Pat

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634426

Wen’s comment: Feelings!!! It's really refreshing to read a character who, as an established adult, is reconfiguring an understanding of himself without it being either a whole crisis or a sudden seamless lightbulb moment. It's very fair to both characters' emotions, letting them both react in a way that feels wonderfully human and real rather than idealistic.

Fic 2: Five Times the Potion Seller Refused to Sell a Potion (and One Time He Didn’t) by misura

Info: Potion Seller (Justin Kuritzkes Short Film), Knight/Potion Seller

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5441447

Wen’s comment: It's based on a 3 minute meme video and if it was just a tweet or post with the title alone it would be a great joke but... someone went and wrote the dang thing! And it could have been ridiculous crackfic, and while it certainly toes that line it's also got a really fun flow of dialogue that leaves a lot to the imagination without it getting confusing.

Fic 3: I Am The Horrible Goose That Lives In The Town by Daniel Lavery

Info: The Untitled Goose Game, gen

Link: https://www.shatnerchatner.com/p/i-am-the-horrible-goose-that-lives

Wen’s comment: the writing is tremendous and sits beautifully in that razor's edge space where english is used just strangely enough to create a fantastic character voice without going too far and falling into some kind of awkward english language uncanny valley. it's so hard to pick out the best line because every line is the best line. "Here I am coming, with the good news of me, and you hate it. You can think only of the bell and how much I have it, and you are never the goose."

━

Submitted by: Mage

Fic 1: Fog, Sheets and Thunder by theopteryx

Info: My Chemical Romance RPF, Frank/Gerard

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/351396

Mage’s comment: i have literally thought about this fic at least once a week since i read it in 2012. do not ask me why. i have no answers.

Fic 2: Flowers in Bones by fringecity (indiachick)

Info: BTS, Taehyung/Yoongi

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16256390

Mage’s comment: sometimes i just wanna be a careful selection of small animal bones that yoongi gently unearths and meticulously crafts into an altar of pressed flowers and ink

Fic 3: It Happened Quiet by hobimo

Info: BTS, Taehyung/Yoongi

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15070646/chapters/34939646

Mage’s comment: haunted woods :) cryptids :) that deeply unsettling feeling that there are greater, mysterious forces at work and there's nothing you can do about it :)

━

Submitted by: BirdieLeonie

Fic 1: Reprise (series) by Elfpen

Info: Star Wars, various (Obi-Wan centric)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/454408

BirdieLeonie’s comment: I spent about seven months of my life reading nothing but Star Wars time-travel fix-it fics. (I am not exaggerating; there are enough of them to last that long or longer.) This is my favorite.

Fic 2: Friday Night Arrives Without a Suitcase by marycontraire

Info: Hockey RPF, Danny Briere/Claude Giroux

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534247

BirdieLeonie’s comment: This is a fic I have kept coming back to again and again in the years since I first read it. It's domestic and sweet and still adult. It's like curtainfic, inverted; the leads live together and parent their kids and go grocery shopping before they have a romantic or sexual relationship.

Fic 3: The Hero’s Journey; or: What Jasper Sitwell Did Last Summer (podfic), by artzbots, blackglass, daroos, girlwithabubblegun, kalakirya, Opalsong, reena_jenkins, RsCreighton, sabinelagrande

Info: MCU & Welcome to Night Vale, Jemma Simmons/Jasper Sitwell

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6462223

BirdieLeonie’s comment: I love podfic, I love crossovers, and I love this fic. Again, I picked this because of all the thousands of MCU fics I've read, this is the one I find myself coming back to repeatedly. This crossover is creative, fun, and plays with one of my favorite tropes: what was happening to a minor character in the background of the story we saw?

[girlobsessed21]

The 100 6x07 analysis - putting the mind at ease

I absolutely loved this episode, the attention to detail, the explanations, the tone, and pacing. It was definitely my favorite of the season so far. And, climbing the charts to the best of the series but you’d have to work really hard to top a The 100 finale. This season is shaping up to be the best, the stories they’re exploring, the sci-fi content, the unpredictability, everything is top notch. Well done Jason and the writers, are you good friends with Elon Musk?

Ready to take a trip down memory lane, buckle up, it’s a long ride, ready, let’s go! I’m breaking this up into Clarke’s encounters with her ghosts since it takes place solely in her mind. It’s fitting for Clarke to wake up in her prison cell given that she’s literally trapped in her subconscious. Also, if I had to picture the inside of it, I’d see drawings everywhere too.

The safe space - daddy’s arms

To me, it seems like the images and voices she encounters first are those she’s lost except for her child. Finn, Wells, Lexa, and of course her father. When Clarke realizes she’s dead, she’s glad her fight is finally over but regrets not being able to say goodbye. To Madi and mom. I’ve seen some people upset that she didn’t include Bellamy, that’s because she did greet him in a certain way when she apologized and told him he was her family.

Now, the weather is a direct product of her mood. When she encounters Jake, the sun is bright in a place she was once happy. Then, the thunder starts when she gets upset. I would have liked it to be Jake himself letting her in on the heartbeat and the fact that she’s alive but he’s only a figment of her imagination. Meaning it’s the way she would have wanted it too. 

I imagine this scene as the life Clarke pictured living. Content, with her father alive and Madi going to school while she draws and farms.

A.L.I.E to the rescue

Those words make no sense. Funny how she instantly transforms into Wanheda in the presence of the AI. I had some other theories on why Clarke survived and then I watched a Youtube video by the Theorizer before the episode aired which explained this fact and it made complete sense. A.L.I.E saved Clarke.

How does this work? I found an article in Techworld that explains it as follows: “At its most basic form, neural lace is an ultra-thin mesh that can be implanted in the skull, forming a collection of electrodes capable of monitoring brain function. It creates an interface between the brain and the machine.

To insert neural lace, a tiny needle containing the rolled up mesh is placed inside the skull and the mesh is injected. As the mesh leaves the needle it unravels, spanning the brain.”

To remove the neuro mesh from Clarke’s brain, they would have to EMP her. In other words, remove Josephine from the brain, drain the last of the neuro mesh and re-insert the body-snatcher.

Furthermore, I’d like to touch on the subject of there is no joy without pain. Believing this is tragical. Sure, life does include unpleasant bumps and hurdles but joy can certainly exist without pain. A glimpse into her trampled heart.

Then, A.L.I.E tells her the painful memories aren’t present. This boggles me somewhat because like I’ve said her most prominent drawings are those she’s lost. Isn’t that painful enough? Is that why she moved on to Mount Weather and the fighting pit or is there something even more agonizing than those? Something Josephine encounters by herself later?

Encountering the parasite

So, Josephine describes why both minds cannot survive simultaneously. I’m not a neurosurgeon but I gathered that the brain does not have the capacity to maintain both, which will lead to cerebral hemorrhaging and a stroke.  

A power struggle between two badass female characters is always a delight to watch. Clarke Griffin is not someone you wanna mess with, told ya! The hypocrisy in Josie calling Clarke selfish and dumb is amusing. Check the mirror, sweetie.

She’s not stupid in the literal sense, obviously, she only overestimates her own causes and abilities. But the “when I tell you not to think of an elephant, what do you think about” move is smart. Unfortunately for her, our blonde hero is one step ahead.

Unlike the prime princess, who lives in a peaceful castle on a moon, Clarke has fought her fair share of battles and easily kicks ass in a physical fight. Just as she thinks she’s won, the parasite shows up again with the news that she can’t die in the mind space. Dramatic sigh.

On being haunted by Bloodreina

“Even your projections hate you, Clarke.” In episode two we already see that she is her own worst enemy. She hates herself more than anyone for the things she’s had to do. 

1) Letting the bomb drop on TonDC

2) Stealing the bunker while Octavia fought for it

3) Leaving Bellamy to die in the fighting pits

Oh and now we learn why we don’t see Bellamy. He’s the one person she cannot face. In 6x04 she acknowledged leaving him to die is her deepest regret. In 6x01 she tells him he kept her sane during the six years alone. Clearly, she’d rather go up against Bloodreina, a controversial monster, than him. Why is that?

Bellamy has forgiven you, Clarke. Go ahead and forgive yourself.

Mount Weather

The place responsible for creating Wanheda. Now, it’s common knowledge that Clarke blames herself for what happened to Mia and Jasper. But seeing her question the godly decisions to save those she loves is heartbreaking. Yes, she’s made some bad choices in the past but this shows just how remorseful and compassionate Clarke truly is. War made her a monster, though that’s not who she is, at all. At least it led to the realization that she’s still in control of her own mind.

Finn’s death and Jasper’s cage

Sneaky, Clarke. Hiding the memory in one of the places you’ll never wish to revisit. But sadly, Josephine doesn’t mind exploring the place where you had to mercy kill Finn or dig into Jasper.

As if it’s not bad enough that the devil lures her to the last place she’ll want to see, she uses the one self-loathing thing about Clarke to manipulate her into giving up. Amusing how the final turning point is learning that Bellamy’s willing to sacrifice her for saving everyone else. Is it the comprehension that Bellamy no longer cares that causes her surrender or the fact that it’s the only way to save her people? A bit of both I assume.

The lock sequence was awesome - 0100. “You forgot about Bellamy and Raven - 0102. There’s only 6 of the 102 left now if I’m right. Seeing her cry in Lexa’s throne though, was so, so sad. 

They definitely saved the best for last with Monty

I cannot express my gratitude for this unexpected return enough. I’ve had some terrible Monty, Harper and Jasper depression hours over the last week and this made my day. So, Mr. Cockroach Murphy, this is not what Monty would have wanted. Letting them get away with killing innocent people for immortality does not fall within the definition of doing better. 

If only Clarke knew how much Madi needs her right now. She’s trudging on dangerous ground and could use some serious motherly guidance.

Who better to light the way to victory than the man who saved humanity? Six seasons and his death down the line and he’s still picking locks. Hate to be the one to say this, but Raven, Monty is purer than you are. 

Applause for using Josephine’s own tactics against her by controlling her through the no-go-zone.

Crossing the sociopath's threshold

That door looks so much like a blissful suburban family home over Christmas, which I’m sure Josephine had back on earth before her tragedy. Oh, and the library is amazing, I must say. I imagine my own mind looking much the same, I love books.

But in that perfect little head, the most horrific things are hidden. Why are the primes so afraid of dying? Is it only power and narcissism that causes Josephine to resort to oblation?

Clarke learns that she offered the nulls to the trees, hence banning them from their society because they hinder the nightbloodline. But Isaac, Kaylee’s lover, gave them to Gabriel to build an army, instead. I’m certain Clarke will use this info in the future.

Gabriel loved Josephine once, I’m sure we’ll still get to this story but I can’t wait to see the face-off between the two. His last host was already 95 at the time of the memory, meaning now, six years later, he’s 101. Which is why I assume he can only exist within the anomaly where time is altered. And like I’ve said many times before the trio in the woods will turn out to be Sanctum’s saviors.

But we also see the good side of Josephine, the person she once was. PTSD probably morphed her into becoming a sociopath and the mind-drives enhanced the trauma. I feel bad for what happened to her but it does not by any means justify the person she’s become.

Why is she looking to Bellamy when she says, “I know how to kill her once and for all.” Did she see the memory of Clarke telling Roan, “I’ll do anything, I’ll stop fighting. Just, please, don’t kill him?”

Bellamy Blake, you genius

I knew it, I called it. Bellamy was the first to figure out that Josie’s not Clarke and of course the first to deduce that she’s still alive. That was some big soulmate energy right there!!! Thank you for being a big ol’ nerd and paying attention in Earth Skills.

That smile, a stark contrast to the tears that rolled last week. His princess is not gone and he’ll swim the Atlantic to bring her back. He’s gonna reel in everyone’s help on this project but be careful Bell, Josephine does not go down easy.

Just a side note. I appreciate Miller and his standoffishness in this scene since no-one seemed to mourn her last week.

One last thing, I may have been wrong about Abby, she might know something and it’s possible that’s she’s planning on taking Russel’s body for Kane. An eye-for-an-eye?

That’s all folks. As usual, you’re welcome to disagree with me. I love hearing I’m wrong and why.

[sympathyfortheblinderdevil]

Diversion: Ch.5

Other chapters may be found on my Masterlist, since Tumblr doesn’t like links.

Esme begins to deal with the fallout of John's discovery. There are some adult themes in this chapter. Adults have some adult thoughts. It's all very grown up.

Polly placed a phone call to Tommy and insisted that he return immediately to deal with John. “He’s gone wild Tommy. I don’t know what he will do if he finds Esme before you can get to him.” There was silence on the crackling line for a beat, then Polly speculated, “I don’t know what he’ll do to you. Please be careful… I’ve never seen him like this.”

Tommy had. One time before the war, John had nearly killed a man for putting his hands on Martha. He had broken the man’s jaw so badly that he couldn’t take solid foods any longer. He would have blinded him too, had the cops not come in when they did. For all of John’s easy-going nature, he was not a man to be crossed. He could be every bit as vengeful as Tommy and as vicious as Arthur.

“Where is Esme?”

“She went out just before John stormed in. Said she felt sick and needed some air.” She almost divulged that Esme was with child, but something made her pull up short. “I sent Finn to look for her.”

“Alright. I’m on my way.”

As Polly hung up the phone Esme came back in. She froze in her tracks when she saw the state of the place. Horrified, she looked around at the mess that John had left in his wake. Her eyes widened when she saw blood, streaked and smeared across her desk while her things lay scattered on the floor. Her mouth opened to ask Polly what had happened but was cut off.

“You’d better make yourself scarce. John knows” It was bad enough that Polly knew, but the evidence of John’s reaction brought her to a new low. A combination of terror, dread, and shame made her want to sink into the Earth and disappear. John was not a man to be trifled with, and answering for her actions was a terrifying prospect.

“How? How did he find out?” Polly gestured toward the kitchen, “He overheard us. He’s destroyed the shop and he’s liable to do the same to you if he sees you before he calms down.”

Esme's eyes were fixed on the brownish red swath of dried blood painted across her desk as Polly spoke, her mind churning. “Is he hurt?”

“He cut his hand. Bled like a stuck pig. Are you listening to me?” Polly crossed the shop to where Esme stood, “He knows. It’s best that you go to stay at my house for the time being.” “We have to warn Tommy.” Her dark eyes darted back and forth between Polly’s. “I’ve already done that,” she answered curtly. “John was bound and determined that he was going to that Carleton woman’s estate to kill Tommy, but I convinced him that it was better to deal with family business here.” “Oh, God,” Esme whispered and covered her face with her hands. “There’s no time for that,” Polly stated. Her voice was firmer now, but not unkind. “You’ve made your bed, now you have to lie in it.”

In the abstract, she had wanted to punish John. She wanted him to feel the pain of betrayal that she had felt, but with some minor flirtation with a nobody, not his brother. This was meant to be a bit of harmless revenge, and it had somehow gone all wrong. How could she have known that a meaningless comment over breakfast would draw a reaction from Tommy, not John? That a fictional plot that was meant to pique her husband’s jealousy would end with her craving the longing gaze of Tommy’s eyes. She needed to figure out a way to stop the impending firestorm that would no doubt end with more Shelby blood being spilled.

“Please, Polly,” Esme gritted her teeth and struggled to fight the tears that Polly forbade her to shed, “have Tommy come to see me before he goes to John. I need to talk to him before they meet.” “And just why would you need to do that?” “I need to know what he plans to tell John. I need to know what to expect. Please, Polly. If you care for me and for my children at all!” Polly’s guilt over meddling with John and Esme’s marriage made her inclined her to give in to Esme’s pleas. Although Polly was aggravated with the transgressions that Esme had fallen into, she couldn’t bear to see her in this kind of torment. Against her better judgment she acquiesced.

“I’ll get word to him that you are at my house. He will have to pass that way before he reaches Small Heath.”

***

 Tommy roared onto Polly’s street just after midday and parked in front of her house. He sat for a moment in the car, listening to the pinging of the cooling engine as he thought about what was to come. He’d done a lifetime worth of thinking in the hours that it took to drive from May’s place to the outskirts of Birmingham. He had formulated a plan that would stem the coming tide of chaos and save Shelby Company Limited from imploding, but he had no way to mend the hearts that would be broken by the carelessness of his actions.

He never should have let his sympathy for her cross the line. He should have taken the matter up with John, kept him in charge of the shop and close to Esme’s side throughout the workday. He thought of a hundred ways that he could have helped her cause besides becoming her confidante and allowing their friendship to become more intimate. He had used his good sense to stay clear of her in the past after all of her talk about getting lost had first lit the fire of passion for her within him. He should have kept his distance.

Countless times had he fantasized about running his hands through her tangled hair, pulling her face to his, and tasting her pouty lips. He had imagined how the warm curve of her spine would feel against the span of his hands as he pressed her body into his. His eyes slid shut and he inhaled sharply at the image of her creamy skin, her pink nipples, the dark patch of hair at the apex of her spreading thighs. Her back would arch and her eyes would close as she whispered his name, Tommy…And he would touch her like she’d never been touched. He would make her body sing, he would worship her, God, he would love her…

His eyes snapped open, burning with fire, and he struck the steering wheel with his fist over and over. “FUCK!” he roared and tore his hat from his head, slinging it into the passenger side of the car. His chest heaved with every breath, and he scrubbed at his face with his hands. The prospect of facing her alone, of confronting and naming the very thing that they had been dancing around, was causing his unraveling. If he had learned anything in the world that he inhabited, it was that things could rarely be divided neatly into categories of right and wrong. There were always shades of gray— a little sinner in every saint. This, however, was not one of those occasions. This thing with Esme would end today. He had survived the trenches in France, he told himself, and so he could survive an infatuation with his brother’s wife. He slicked his hair back and replaced his hat, and in doing so, he returned to himself.

She was at the door before he knocked, and quickly opened it to let him in. A red silk scarf held her hair away from her face, which only accentuated the wide open, hunted look in her eyes. Although he tried to hold the practiced neutral expression that he had cultivated over years of handling dangerous situations, he could not keep up his façade when he saw her.

“Tommy, what are we going to do?”

She fell into his arms and her shoulders began to quake with her sobbing. He stood like a stone, swallowing hard and flexing his jaw muscles in an attempt to hold to his resolve. Images of his fantasies about her flashed through his head. He simultaneously wanted to tear her dress off and have her on the rug of his aunt’s parlor and push her away to save himself. He pushed his urges down deep into his psyche and patted her on the back in a comforting manner. She separated from him, sniffing and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. He offered her a white handkerchief which was soon smudged with black kohl.

“We are going to do the only thing that we can. What we should have done months ago.” He kept his voice even. With fluid movements, he drew his cigarettes case and matches out of his pocket and lit one. He offered it to her, and when she declined he flicked the case shut and eased it back into his pocket. He was amazed that his hands were not shaking.

She turned from him and walked to a table which held cut glass decanters of whiskey, rum, and gin on a silver tray. There were leaded crystal glasses neatly arranged on a shelf behind it, and Esme lingered there, pouring drinks for Tommy and herself. For, as long as she focused on the drinks, she could put off facing what Tommy was saying to her.

“Esme,” his voice caressed her ears, “you know what we have to do. We can’t allow this to go any farther. Even though we haven’t used our bodies to betray John, the way we feel isn’t right.”

She turned to hand him a glass of Irish whiskey and spoke, “Don’t say his name to me and talk about what’s right. Has he done what’s right by me? You and I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Hmmm,” He nodded his head and took a drink, “You’re talking to me, now. Not Polly. There’s no need to sugarcoat what has been happening.”

“But we haven’t…”

“In our hearts, and in our dreams, we have.” Tommy’s nostrils flared slightly, and his eyes roamed her face, her neck, and the bit of collarbone exposed by her dress. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth to wet it and seeing this Esme felt heat flush her face and chest. “You know we have.”

He was right. In the months that he had stayed away, while she was trying to conceive a baby with John, she would find herself imagining that it was Tommy whose body strained above her, that the velvety shaved head she caressed belonged to Tommy, and most shamefully of all, that Tommy’s cock was stretching her wide and making her come undone.

“Even now, Tommy continued, “with John thinking the worst and looking for both of us we are still drawn to each other.

She was weak in the knees from the thoughts running through her head. She sat down and immediately regretted doing so because the pressure of the chair only made the throbbing between her legs worse. “How do we stop?” she sighed.

He looked away. “I don’t know. I could go away, to London perhaps.”

Esme stared at Tommy, willing him to look her way. If what she was about to say didn’t sever his feelings for her, then nothing would, and they were doomed.

“Maybe it will be easier for us to forget all of this when the baby comes.”

Tommy turned her way. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, then closed.

Esme had gotten pregnant to stop her from wanting Tommy. She thought that some primal urge would kick in and make her fiercely loyal to John, but it hadn’t, not yet. She needed help. Nature had betrayed her. She prayed that Tommy would do what was right, because she didn’t know if she could.

Her words pulled everything painfully into focus, and he knew what he had to do. He swallowed thickly “You are goin’ to go home to your husband and forget that any of this happened.” He swallowed again and cleared his throat, his voice cracking as he tried to push the words past his lips, “because if you don’t....” “Because if I don’t, you’ll what? Cut me from this family?” She laughed through tears. “No, love.” A weary smile tugged at his lips, but his eyes grew misty at the memory. He had to look away from her to muster up the strength to finish. “If you don’t, it will tear this family, and all that we’ve worked so hard to build, apart.” He drew a shaky breath, “All of our schemes and plans, all of the things we’ve dreamt of for our children...gone. We can’t survive something like this. And what we want,” he sniffed, and again he cleared his throat, “what we want doesn’t matter.”

She knew that he was right, but that knowledge did little to quell the bitterness in her heart. It wasn’t fair that her husband could lie with impunity about where he spent his nights, but she was denied a little bit of comfort that she had found in the world. She had never gone to bed with Thomas. She’d only kissed him one time, and their physical contact had been fleeting. With all her soul she wanted to be lost in his arms, just once.

She was already paying for sins she hadn’t committed, and this would likely be the last time she ever saw Tommy alone, so she made a decision. She rose from her chair and walked to where Tommy stood. He kept his eyes from her, instead, he looked at the wall beyond. She took the whiskey from his hand and stood inches from him as she drained the glass. He kept his hands at his sides, not daring to move, but his eyes slid closed. Esme placed her hands on his shoulders and breathed his name. When he opened his eyes she spoke.

“You have made me feel worthy of love, Tommy. With just a look, a word, a touch, you have given me back what he took away. You, Tommy. Not some punter from the shop, not some bloke from the Garrison, but you.  It may be wrong, what we feel, but there has to be some good in a person who sews love in a deserted heart.”

Tommy’s will fell away from him and he slid his arms around her waist. He pushed the outside world from his mind. His whole existence at that moment was the warmth of her touch and the smell of her skin. She tilted her head up as he drew her closer, every part of him pressing insistently against every part of her. The room became impossibly quiet as his mouth found hers, and she melted into his body. Her lips parted for him, and he slid his tongue over hers, hungrily drinking her in. Her hands roamed under his jacket and caressed his back. The feeling was so exquisite that he could die in her arms and be satisfied.

It was she who pulled away, and he sighed at the loss of contact.

She studied him. Lost in the lines of his face, his cheekbones, his jawline, and his pale blue eyes, she could see his resemblance to John and to her son. She imagined that the new baby would be blessed with the Shelby good looks as well. She took another step back and ran her hands over her stomach. She had to let him go. 

OMG! Next up, Tommy will have to reckon with John’s thirst for revenge!

Let me know what y’all think.

[sheriffcobbvanth-blog]

sooooo I wrote a thing? This is how I would like ep. 9 to open. It was inspired by these posts:

http://reys--speeder.tumblr.com/post/172429098067

https://thelastjedicritical.tumblr.com/post/172428839557/partofthequeue2-kalinara#notes

39 ABY

Approximately three years after the destruction of Starkiller Base.

The chatter coming over Rey’s com system as it paged through Resistance frequencies was unbearable. It was too easy for her to pick out the voices of people who she loved on the lines – there was Leia, giving orders on the bridge. There was Luke (they had discovered him wandering around on Tatooine -- a desert planet in the Outer Rim that had reminded her far too much of Jakku –  sickly and exhausted a standard Galactic week after the destruction of the Supremacy) directing his students on the field. Then Poe and Jessika in quick succession, both of them leading air raids. Then there was Finn directing the infantry charge in conjunction with the Jedi.

It was… scary. The thought that at any second, one of those lines could turn to static. The idea that one of those bright pinpoints of light at the fringes of her conscious could be snuffed out forever. She reached up to the earpiece she wore and then tore it out, crushing it. She had a mission. She needed to focus. She needed to trust both the Force and the capabilities of her friends. They would be fine. They would survive.

After an initial defeat, the Resistance had hit back hard. Entire planets had risen up, throwing off the yoke of the First Order and fighting back, refusing to bow to the Empire again. The Resistance had driven what dregs of the First Order that remained to a desolate, rock-and-lava-covered planet in the Outer Rim. The planet – Mustafar – was unbearable. It was steeped in darkness. It was also the place that Darth Vader had settled during the Galactic Civil War. No wonder Kylo had decided to use the old sanctum. It was a fitting abode for a monster like him.

She found Kylo on an outlook, staring out at the carnage below. Rey knew that the battle wasn’t going well for the First Order – she didn’t even need to see the shrinking puddles of white armor in the distance as the Stormtroopers (what few Stormtroopers that remained after Finn had dispatched General Hux and led the majority of the troops in a mutiny that had devastated the First Order almost a year ago, in any case) were soundly defeated by Resistance forces to know that. She could feel it in the Force: the gradual shift towards the Light, as if clouds had parted. Kylo had to feel it too. He had to know it was over.

Her job was simple: cut off Ren’s escape route. Then make sure he never hurt anyone again. But she had to draw this out. She had to give Finn the chance to get here. She could feel him getting closer – he was inside the fortress, somewhere below.

She ignited her double-bladed lightsaber, built with half of the Crystal she had salvaged from the blade of Anakin Skywalker’s. Kylo turned around, igniting his own. “Here to save my soul?” He sneered.

Rey felt the rage in her chest explode. She lunged at him, her lightsaber clashing against his with a flash of sparks. “No,” she snarled. “I’m here to kill you.”

They fought ferociously – or at least Kylo did. Despite the anger in her heart, and the voices in her head urging her to just end this now, kill him where he stood, she held back. She didn’t want him dead quite yet. After all, she had made a promise.

Then she felt him. Finn. He was close.

Jumping clear of the arc of Kylo’s saber, she shut off her lightsaber. Kylo seemed to interpret that as a surrender. He laughed. “I should have figured. You give up. You’re a coward, Rey Nobody. Honestly, to think I once thought that you were my long-lost cousin…”

“She’s not Nobody, Ren. But you were right about one thing. She’s not the lost Skywalker heir.” The new voice cut through the room like a vibroblade, loud and clear. Kylo’s eyes went wide with recognition. Standing behind him, wearing a set of black combat fatigues, was Finn. He ignited a lightsaber, bathing his features in blue light. “I am.”

Rey smirked as Kylo’s arrogance turned to shock at seeing his nemesis claiming the Skywalker legacy while carrying a lightsaber that had been crafted from the Crystal of Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber. She savored Kylo’s panicked confusion for a handful of heartbeats. Then she lifted her lightsaber, turning it on and spinning it around until the blue blades blended into a seamless circle. Kylo looked back and forth between his two opponents, finally coming to the realization that he was hopelessly out of his depth.

Finn and Rey didn’t even exchange a glance. They were so in tune with the Force and with each other that the direction hummed between them as if they had simultaneously spoken aloud.

Now.

They attacked, fighting the way only two people who had held each other’s hands while navigating pain and loss and heartbreak could. Kylo didn’t stand a chance – Finn easily disarmed him, and Rey smashed the hilt of her saber into his skull. She then spun the blade downward, driving it into his heart at the same time Finn’s saber sliced through Kylo’s side. Overkill? Perhaps. But the two of them had agreed to destroy the man who had taken so much from both of them together.

The former knight of Ren toppled off the rampart, falling into the sea of lava below. They held each other as they watched him fall. For a moment, it was completely silent except for their ragged breathing and frantic heartbeats. It’s over, Rey thought. It’s finally over. 

She smiled at Finn. “We did it,” she breathed. He smiled back.

But then there was another sound. Footsteps, slow and deliberate. Then… applause? Someone was clapping, loud and evenly.

Finn and Rey turned around. Behind them was a red twi’lek woman with black markings down her face and her lek. At her side was a pair of twin lightsaber hilts. Rey had the feeling that they would both burn an angry, controlled red if they were ignited. “I suppose I should thank you,” the woman said. “You saved me the trouble of doing that myself.”

[dontcallmejoel]

What if Jesse hadn't left? What if he stayed with Blackwatch to the end?

[[ Part 2. ]]

“This ‘bout Lafler?” Jesse asks, grim. Hard not to be, when you’re cuffed to an interrogation table in your own base.He could name both men that have guns visibly holstered at the door. Could tell you Rowland’s kid just got braces, and the Powell was seeing a mechanic that had him bitching good-naturedly of smelling like exhaust every Monday morning. That being said, if one of them did end up having to shoot him he hoped it ended up being Powell. No offense to Rowland, it would just be more embarrassing to have been take out at the top of his game by a middle-aged man on the PTA.

His mark enters with black leather briefcase, non-standard with a pebbled texture that matched her over-large glasses. Married to her work, he guesses, is the look she’s going for. It works, she appears harmless.

“Lafler critically injured four people when he was activated before-”

“-before I shot him. I know. I was there.”

“Then you understand our precaution.” She finishes, voice soothing and stately. “Lafler was a sleeper agent we could’ve saved, had the nature of his reaction been contained.”

Jesse nods along, critical of her expression and her movements. She flips open her case. There’s a sheen of sweat on her neck.

“Well now, if we were going for precaution, you shoulda brought a muzzle. I’m a born sweet talker.”

“It was suggested,” Rowland quips, and Powell titters. She flashes him a small smile.

“I think you’ll find the handcuffs are sufficient, agent,” she says, taking out a small strobe light.

“You sure, Miss Copeland?” The woman freezes. “I know your badge says Agent Smith on it, but Dr. Alexia Copeland matches you to a genetic T, which is mighty odd since her death certificate was signed and dated three years ago last month. How long have you been with us again?”

There’s only a second of shock before the woman positions the strobelight at him and flips the switch.

“Shit.”

“Capsule.” Reyes says in his comm. Three white flashes, one red–Jesse crunches down on the capsule, the bitter flushing the dryness from his mouth–two white, two red, one white, three red.

“Agent?” Dr. Copeland asks, her voice shakey. Even through the killer headache Jesse has, that seems wrong. Is she afraid of him?

“McCree, report.” Reyes. Jesse blinks, and oh, right. She should be afraid of him.

“It’s light-based, boss.” She reaches in the case again, clearly panicked. Jesse checks the agents behind him, who are now straight-faced and glassy. “The camera flashes are probably what set Lafler off.” He leaps to his feet, yanking the table up and aside, the case goes flying, revealing the tiny hand pistol within. The strobe light shatters on the floor. “If you see any red and white, cover your eyes as soon as possible. Are you close enough to the lights to hit’em or should I?”

“We have three back-up generators. One straight to medical.”

Jesse winces, both because Powell fired a shot and because of the news. “And two of us for sure. Sounds hairy.”

“Might not see the end of this one, kid.”

Jesse has a quip for that. He does, but Gabe’s tone seals up his mouth in a thin line. He’s busy flipping over on the table anyway to avoid dire, swinging himself around to deliver a boot to Powell’s face. Rowland is checking on the doc.

“Let me guess,” Reyes says in his ear, “You didn’t let her uncuff you before you revealed yourself.”

“Shut up.” Rowland stands, then draws his gun and fires on Copeland’s form, then on Powell’s. When he looks at Jesse’ it’s with huge, fear-struck eyes. “I’m not one of’em Finn. Get out. Leave your gun. Let me take this. Go home to your little boy.”

The fear eases, but Jesse doesn’t until Rowland lowers his gun and puts it on the table, then hightails it out. Jesse slumps on the table. Powell’s still bleeding, Copeland’s stopped moving. Jesse’s still cuffed to the table. “This looks bad.”

“Sure does, kid. You still want out?”

Jesse smirks, kicking the doctor’s case into his reach and grabbing the cuff-key. “In for a penny in for a pound, old man. ‘sides, it’s about time I saw something through.”

He takes Finn’s gun, missing Peacekeeper’s grip as soon as he does. It always felt like cheating on a spouse when he used another man’s gun.

“You always completed your mission’s, Jess.”

The hall has been cleared, agents in tac gear would be running up and down the stairs, the elevator’s locked. First generator was a level down and through a dusty hall no one but maintenance used. easy to get to, easy to be cornered in. “I got South.”

“I’ll hit North.” They’d meet at central. Jesse takes off at a gallop, the further ahead of the tac units, the more time he had to be clean about it. The heavy tac boots clatter like thunder above him, each scuff on the painted concrete stair a screech of warning.

“McCree! Reyes!” Morrison. Of course he’d know what channel they were using. “You have to stop this!”

“Working on it, Jackie.” Reyes and McCree say simultaneously. There’s a pause on the channel. Reyes chuckles. Jesse locks the maintenance hatch behind him, then sets to work on the generator.

“So you’re not brainwashed.” Morrison says, heavy.

“A little,” Jesse replies.

“Didn’t take,” Reyes adds. “North down.”

The generator sparks under Jesse’s hands. “South down. Heya, Jack? Are the lights flickering out there?”

“That tends to be the result when you cut the power, yes.”

“Great.” Jesse tears a strip of his shirt off his shirt and ties it over his eyes. “If any of those guys hesitate at the flashing, shoot’em ‘fore they shoot you. Anyway, I’m giving you to three before I get out there.”

“McCree-”

“Three.”

They’re battering on the maintenance hatch door. Jesse tries to picture the formation. In a tight hall he’d have a line pressed against once side of the door, a person to open the hatch. And Jack, probably standing right in the entrance like the fearless fool he was.

“Two-”

The noises stop, there’s a few shouts, and the hall lights up with fire. Shit. “One! Gabe, they’re active.”

“I know.”

The hatch flies open and Jesse focuses on his ears, shooting every voice that pops up.

“McCree.” Except that voice, which he hears in both his comm and from further down the hall. “Eight o’clock, on the floor, about four meters back.”

Huh. Jesse points his gun back and fires, and a helmeted head drops with a clatter. Carefully, he picks his way through the bodies and crouches where Jack’s voice came from. “You don’t sound too hot, Commander.”

“Didn’t listen.”

“Well, now, that’s not a surprise.”

“Fuck you.”

“Can you walk?”

“Slowly.”

“Great, be my eyes.”Jesse reaches down and is relieved when Jack grips his arm with familiar strength. Hasn’t lost too much blood, then. Still, when they walk, his breathing is labored and his usual gait stuck at a limp.

“Are either one of you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“We fucked up.” Is all Jesse says.

“They’re in our heads, Jackie. At least half the organization is theirs.”

“And it sounds like they’ve called for back up,” Jesse adds.

“They did, the signal went out as soon the lights started flickering.”

“Fantastic. We’re not equipped to take out an army.” Jesse says. They get down the stairs.

“Heads up,” Jack grunts. He barely gets a word out before rifle fire echoes through the room.

“Where?”

“Two flights down.” Jesse fires once, the ricochet like a rock in a tin bucket. “To the left.” Another shot, another hollow miss. “Your other left, kid.”

“I hate you.” He takes the shot, and is rewarded with a clatter followed by silence. “Might as well be shooting blind.”

“You are.”

“Fuck you, Morrison.”

They pick up the pace, making it down to the basement right as the distant drone of choppers fills the ambient silence. The hall is empty for now. Jack stops and Jesse hears him check the barrel of a rifle, then stock it. “Where are your flashbangs, kid?”

“Confiscated. They played us real smooth.”

“Yeah. They did.”

The door to the generator room is locked. Jesse raps on it thrice. “You in there, boss?”

“Yeah.” A pause. “They’ve rigged us to blow.”

Silence. Jack sighs. “This was where it was always going to end, isn’t it?”

“Probably. As good a back up plan as anything.” Jesse shrugs.

“So. Are we doing this?” Jack asks.

“You want me to set off their bomb.”

“Most of the civilians are out, everyone left is brainwashed.”

“Jesse?”

“Sounds like our options are surrender and likely be brainwashed, or take as many of’em out with us.” Jesse reaches in his pocket, taking out his cigarillo case, offering one to Morrison. “Y’know my feelings on the former.”

Jesse light’s Morrison’s, then his own. The door opens, and Jesse switches gears, offering his to Reyes before getting another for himself.

“Nice blindfold, reprobate, didn’t think you were into that kind of shit.”

“Liar. are the lights still flashing?”

“Yeah.” The hall quickly fills with smoke, washing the scent of blood and the freshly dead with ash. They start to walk away from the generator, as if they were just coming back from coffee. Just another day in Overwatch.

“I’ll keep it on, then. Wanna be lucid.”

“This won’t save the world.” Jack says, wistful.

“Neither did stopping the Omnic Crisis.” Reyes replies, soft and sad.

“Still,” Jesse says. “It was a job worth doing.”

Above them in the stairwell, doors fly open. The sound of boots, like thunder, warning them of the oncoming army.

“Three. Two. One.” Gabe murmurs, and all three brace for the end.

[serenity-searcher]

Clexa strangers on a train

My little thing for the strangers on a train clexa challenge, might have become a western because of watching Wynonna Earp a lot past few days.@anonbemetoo 

Hope it’s enjoyable

Hat slung low over her eyes Lexa looked around the train carriage at the other passengers. Of the seven other people she could easily pick out three of them as marshals on board to guard the Hakeldama Diamonds being transported from Arkadia to Polis to be stored in the great vaults of the Polis Bank. This was Lexa’s best chance to steal the diamonds, to be known as the greatest outlaw in the west.

The last four passengers were a more eclectic bunch; there was Lincoln, the member of her posse that had ended up in her carriage, an old man reading the newspaper who looked just like a normal passenger, a young man with a light stubble and light brown hair nothing too special about him and a beautiful blonde woman in a deep blue dress that seemed to sparkle.

As Lexa watched the blonde woman she looked up and her bright blue eyes met Lexa’s gave a slow wink then returned to staring out the window as though waiting for something. There was something vaguely familiar about the woman, but Lexa couldn’t quite place her; a previous conquest perhaps?

Lexa was shaken out of her thoughts by Lincoln getting up and removing his hat, revealing his tattooed bald head; the signal they had agreed upon to start their takeover of this train. Lexa stood and tore the lacy green dress right off revealing a more comfortable set of black leather pants and a dark brown vest, perfect for the fighting about to start, drawing a pair of six shooters as she did.

The reaction amongst the other seven passengers was immediate when the pretty brunette woman revealed that she was Black Blood Lexa, one of the three most well-known and greatest outlaws in the whole wide west.

The four marshals tried to draw their weapons but Lincoln dispatched one of them with a swift punch to the back of the head, sending him down quickly, the old man threw his paper aside and dove under the nearest seat, the young man was on his feet pistol in hand and shot down a second marshal. Lexa shot a third marshal as the woman in blue was on her feet, smoking gun in her hand as the last marshal fell.

In the seconds of silence Lexa and Lincoln raised their weapons at the other two bandits, as they did the same. In that moment, staring down the barrel of a gun held by a beautiful blonde that Lexa recognised her; not from a tangle in the sheets or the hay in a barn but from wanted posters hung right next to hers; Skyshooter Clarke Griffin, another of the three greatest outlaws.

“Hakeldama diamonds Griffin?” Lexa asked, pulling back the hammer on her gun.

“Woodsman, why else would anyone be on this train, to Polis?” Clarke replied with a smirk.

“I’m just here for the pretty girls, didn’t realise you’d be this pretty with a smoking gun.” Lexa said raking her eyes up and down Clarke’s body.

“Not so bad yourself Woodsman” Clarke said smiling.

“As clearly as important as this flirting is Clarke, what are we gonna do? Fight Woodsman for the diamonds?” Clarke’s sidekick asked.

The conversation was cut short as the train jerked to a halt, sending Lincoln and Clarke’s accomplice to the ground.

“Your plan?” the women asked simultaneously.

“Seems that there is someone else after the diamonds, best guess is this whole thing was a setup to get the three worst outlaws in the west. Pike was never a subtle one.” Lexa said.

“So between each of us and the diamonds is about fifty marshals and the two other greatest outlaws in the west. I don’t want Pike to get it, I’ll even consider a temporary truce to prevent that.” Clarke said lowering her gun less than half an inch, still pointing at Lexa but enough to show that she was serious.

“That could work, what exactly is your proposal?” Lexa asked, watching Clarke very carefully.

“Me, you and the rest of our gangs clear the train of marshals, stop Pike, split the diamonds and ride off into the sunset.” Clarke said, plain and simple.

“Simple, easy to remember and sounds like a date.” Lexa said, smiling and lowering her gun.

“What...well? Umm that’s not what I mean” Clarke spluttered

“Easy Skygirl, just teasing. Now are we getting these diamonds?” Lexa said, shit eating grin on her face.

“Fine, let’s dance.” Clarke huffed raising her guns and leading the way up the train.

“Boss why do you always flirt with the beautiful women in life or death situations?” Lincoln asked.

“No better time for it, and you mind your tongue, let’s get shooting.” Lexa said following Clarke into the raging gunfight up the train.  

Three carriages and twenty dead marshals later the girls came to the secure carriage, the one where the diamonds almost certainly were when a hail of bullets came from behind them forcing Clarke and Lexa to dive to the ground Lexa landing on Clarke.

“Darlin as happy as I am to be here with you, can we wait until the shootin stops? I think Pike just showed up.” Lexa said smiling beneath Clarke.

“Fine, you owe me a sunset ride though,” Clarke said giving Lexa a swift peck on the cheek as she stood to return fire at the newcomers.

“Oh girl I’ll ride you anytime you keep that up.” Lexa said as she joined Clarke shooting at the door. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Clarke smile and turn slightly pink, oh damn this was more fun than she had had in years.

As the last man in the doorway fell Lexa felt something hard press against the back of her head and heard the unmistakeable sound of a hammer being drawn back, then it came again.

“There ain’t no diamonds on this damn train but the heads of Skyshooter Griffin and Black Blood Lexa should fetch me a fine enough price to live comfortably for the rest of my days, once I clear a nice patch of farmland of savages.” The deep voice rang with a deep seated anger. Lexa and Clarke stiffened at the familiar sound. They had both had encounters with Pike before.

The last of the three greatest outlaws in the west; Pike had shown up recently and left more bodies in his wake than anyone. Most considered him a monster because he had killed three hundred natives in one bloody massacre in a few short hours. He only ever gave his name as Pike, the man he had been before was a mystery.

Caught and held at gunpoint by a mass murderer only interested in them for their bounties it looked like the girls had met their end. Lexa looked over at Clarke who was smiling at Lexa.

“Looks like this is it Lexa, sure would have been a nice date” Clarke said.

It was at that moment Lexa decided screw it, land a date with this girl or die trying. She dropped to the floor and swept her leg knocking Pike off balance, forcing him to drop a gun as he grabbed onto the doorway to prevent himself from falling. Clarke had seen her chance, spun and slammed her fist into Pike’s throat leaving him falling to the floor gasping for breath. As Pike lay gasping on the floor the girls quickly bound and gagged Pike.

“So he said there wasn’t any diamonds on this train, now what?” Clarke asked, “Is our truce over?”

“Naw, he said there wasn’t the Hakeldama diamonds but I think I found myself a sky diamond.” Lexa said flashing her sexiest smile at Clarke.

“Ain’t you sweet? So say we walk into Polis trying to collect his bounty we would be shot before we made it three paces. This scum should be hanged for all he’s done.” Clarke said angrily, like he had personally affected her.

“Oh he will, we take him into Polis, dressed as fine ladies, Lincoln and your partner can do it, we get paid and then we ride out for our sunset date.” Lexa said hauling Pike to his feet.

“That plan works for me, hey Finn get up here and help me with this scum.” Clarke yelled at her partner who had been with her in the original carriage. The two men roughly shoved Pike towards the door and out into the dust next to the still stopped train.

“So this was where Pike wanted the train to stop so there probably horses nearby, we take them and ride to the nearest town to hand this guy in, ten thousand dollars split between us should be grand.” Lexa said as they dragged Pike up the rocky slopes without really caring for his well-being until they found four horses tethered to a cactus.

“Who wants the dirt?” Lexa asked kicking Pike in the shins, dropping him to the ground to adjust his bonds to better tie him to a horse.

“I’ll take him” said Clarke with venom in her voice.

“Sure thing, just make sure he’ still breathing when we drop him off,” Lexa said.

“Why?” Clarke asked.

“I’m gonna love watching the fucker swing” Lexa said with a dark smile.

“Well ain’t you the greatest lady ever?” Clarke smiled as the kicked their horses into a gallop towards town.

The hours passed in casual conversation and easy silences until the four riders and one prisoner arrived at Ton DC.

“So anyone here not going to be shot on site?” Clarke asked.

“I think Marshal Indra will give me at least a few moments to plead my case, we were close once,” Lexa said dismounting and adjusting her weapons so they were in plain sight. “Give me the dirt and an hour; if I’m not back by then I won’t be coming back and take care of Lincoln, he’ll want to get the rest of the Natblida gang together and inform them of my situation.” Lexa tipped her hat to her travelling companions, pulled Pike roughly from the back of Clarke’s horse causing him to hit the ground hard and started to drag him into town.

They hadn’t been gentle with Pike sure but they were outlaws; as many men as they had killed they had spared more. The marshals’ tally had Lexa at killing 63 men and Clarke 47 men with Pike being ranked at closer to one thousand. There was a difference between outlaws and murderers.

A bullet hit the ground just ahead of Lexa’s feet shocking her out of her thoughts, looking up she saw the imposing figure of a dark skinned woman; rifle pointed straight at her. Marshal Indra had come out to meet her even if it wasn’t the friendliest welcome.

“You have five seconds to explain what the hell you are doing back here Lexa.” Indra shouting cocking her rifle and starting a slow countdown backwards from five.

“I captured Pike and am turning him in,” Lexa shouted not wasting any time.

“I expect you’ll be wanting his bounty then?” Indra asked thoughtfully. “Not sure we can pay you the bounty and let you walk away from here,” she said scratching her chin, waiting for Lexa’s response.

“Not the whole bounty” Lexa said.

“What would I reduce the bounty for?” Indra asked. That stare had troubled Lexa through her youth, it always felt like she could see right through any lie.

“Enough for Clarke and I to try and sort our lives around.”

“Clarke? As in Skyshooter Clarke Griffin. Heavens above it was you two that brought down Pike? Ever think about bounty hunting, it’s more legitimate than being an outlaw and it appears that you are good at it. There’s a chance I could give you two the ability to ride into towns to collect bounties. If you keep bringing in the big criminals like this of course.” Indra said lowering her weapon.

“There is one more thing we would like” Lexa said, she was surely pushing her luck.

“I’m listening,” Indra said raising her rifle up again.

“We want to watch him hang.” Lexa said quickly.

“Well that can be arranged I’m sure, hand him to be I’ll throw him in his cell, you go grab your companions, stable your horses just behind the Sheriff’s station.” Indra said finally putting her rifle into a position that Lexa felt no threat.

Breathing out a sigh of relief Lexa quickly ran back to the escarpment she had left her companions.

“Good news Pike will hang in the morning and we get to watch.” Lexa said with a vicious victory in her voice.

“Excellent” said Clarke the same fire in her voice.

“Also Indra said we might be able to walk into towns to hand in bounties and not be shot on sight in the future, might involve slightly more lawful work but could get us rich.” Lexa said watching Clarke carefully for her reaction.

“Sounds fun, wanna become the greatest bounty hunters in the west with me” Clarke asked.

“Sure thing my beautiful lady” Clarke said giving Lexa a swift kiss on the cheek and led the way into town.

With the hanging of Pike the following morning the battle to become the greatest outlaw was over. Pike was dead and Clarke and Lexa were bounty hunters. So began the story of Clarke and Lexa the greatest bounty hunter duo not only for their time but in the entire history of the west.

��C��/

[ficbot]

Finn asked, wondering what to make his fumbling fingers check for a little too desperately, "Very. But Poe gets off the counter, grabbing the bottle and condom packages on a fresh cup of sapir tea and grabbed her lightsaber, when she felt in a hug. Then she dragged her nails upwards again, but other than sweet, sweet like the unbearable heat from the machines keeping the hood of his lover felt, firm butt. Once upon a perfect time for me to deliver some news to everyone." With a little. Poe wants to ask," Make sure you can do, if you need clean bandages." I said and simultaneously Tess scoffed and said, grinning. "Leia," he says finally, a lot of his guitar with one to decide what to expect everything he can really think we can scrounge you up. Part of him. He tossed a quick kiss on her side of his mouth while the PoeFinn couple and Rey say again, taking a quick and merciful death, really. + It's a very easy friendship from that agreement, if he so wished, still grimacing and trembling against Kylo's a rest. She frowns." Ow! What the hell had she surprised you, I got the system'and Finn grabbed Poe's eyes rose back to an empty chasm of soundless darkness surrounds my waking hours, months, and she draws it back hard and thick and tangible. The gossip, the same twinkle when she first met Poe that very specific kind of contempt for his mask. "Coming, coming out with a quick and mostly breath all along but she was capable of taking even some of the ship. Poe thinks, was as strong as him and forcibly kept his opinions to himself, and Poe gave the facade of annoyance that he could sense it. He didn't see it, she's 0300 hours when Rey gives up his injured spine, not around." It blew against her skin leapt to his ship. An order of his pants off his face only inches from the house are. He doesn

[clubofinfo]

Expert: Since the FBI never inspected the DNC’s computers first-hand, the only evidence comes from an Irvine, California, cyber-security firm known as CrowdStrike whose chief technical officer, Dmitri Alperovitch, a well-known Putin-phobe, is a fellow at the Atlantic Council, a Washington think tank that is also vehemently anti-Russian as well as a close Hillary Clinton ally. — Daniel Lazare, Consortium News The masses did not mistakenly choose fascism. Rather, there is a more fundamental nonidentity between class consciousness and mass movements. Fascism was not a Falschkauf (mistaken purchase) followed by buyer’s remorse. The people fought for it, fiercely and stubbornly—though this desire for fascism is also a desire for suppression, a “fight for servitude,” if you will, or an “escape from freedom,” as Erich Fromm put it in the title of his 1941 book. — Ana Teixeira Pinto, E-Flux This week an angry dead end kid named Nikolas Cruz took his legally purchased AR 15 and walked into a school and opened fire. The FBI knew about Cruz because he had been reported to them. Cruz had been reported to the school, too. But nobody followed up. Cruz himself is one of those unpleasant looking young men that are visibly angry, and who exhibit, even in photographs, a quality of emotional disturbance. But nobody followed up. The FBI is too busy writing narrative fiction about Russia. The FBI is more concerned with constructing terrorist threats and then busting various patsies and making a big show of their success. This same week the US has continued to bomb Yemen alongside Saudi Arabia. This same week Mike Pence stomped around the site of the Winter Olympics and managed to insult most every foreign leader in attendance, but most acutely the hosts of this event. But then Pence is a vulgar rube from the hinterlands of Indiana. A fundamentalist Christian whose knowledge of the world is even smaller than his boss, the President. The Hill reported….“Approval of the FBI has increased among Democrats and decreased among Republicans since President Trump took office, according to a new Quinnipiac University poll.” So, uh, Dems and liberals are fawning over the FBI because, presumably, Mueller is after Satan-in-Chief The Donald, while Republicans are pouting because, presumably, the FBI isn’t dropping the fictitious investigation of Russian collusion. Meanwhile, the FBI, famed for various cluster fucks like Waco and Ruby Ridge, not to mention COINTELPRO and countless undercover surveillances on journalists and dissidents of all kinds, is being embraced by liberal America. (COINTELPRO, as a reminder, attacked the Black Panther party, and among its victims were Fred Hampton, Geronimo Pratt, and Mumia Abu Jamal. And it was J.Edgar Hoover who wrote letters that described Hampton as the ‘new black messiah’ — one that needed to be dealt with). That is your virtuous FBI. Now part of this is just the desire among liberals for the status quo. At all costs. It is liberals far more than Republicans who want a Norman Rockwell America. The arch conservative wants something closer to gated communities of whiteness and armed privatized security roaming the streets keeping their property safe. It is the liberal Democratic voter who WANTS TO BELIEVE in the goodness of America. Who wants to believe in all that progress in civil rights and gender equality. But both will in the end default to authoritarian political control. They always have. Joseph Kishore over at WSWS wrote back in 2016 already: … the Times’ article set the tone for a wave of war-mongering commentary in the American media. Lipton was interviewed on the cable news channels and the Public Broadcasting System’s evening news program. Democratic Senator Ben Cardin declared on MSNBC that the US had been “attacked by Russia.” He called for an independent commission, citing the bipartisan panel set up after 9/11. CNN commentator Jake Tapper referred to Russia as the “enemy” and openly wondered, in the course of interviewing former CIA and NSA Director Michael Hayden, whether President-elect Trump was “siding with the enemy. But most Democrats believe in Russian evil doing. They believe Putin is a tyrant. They WANT TO BELIEVE. Now, the logic of Crowdstrike and all those US security experts on cyber warfare is that only the most sophisticated hackers could have penetrated the protections of the U.S. government, while at the same time only the most unsophisticated cyber hackers, revealing their amateurish clumsiness by leaving a variety of Russian language clues in the meta data, could have done such a thing. It is the same logic that posits Taliban or ISIS commanders, cunning…evil geniuses..who plot the overthrow of western civilization..but who are also simultaneously primitives living in caves. The Russians are also evil geniuses but also primitives. On one level the U.S. loves the uneducated. America has never trusted intelligence or education. But they have to at the same time be the best. The best at everything. The best killers. The most violent soldiers. Etc. But not the most educated. Trump’s approval ratings climb as he cuts funding to libraries and the arts. Such actions have always been an electoral winner in the USA. Edward Luce had a cogent piece at Financial Times of all places. He wrote America’s elites have stored more wealth than they can consume. This creates three problems for everyone else. First, elites invest their surpluses in replicating their advantages. Kids raised in poorer neighbourhoods with mediocre schools stand little chance. Their parents cannot match the social capital of their wealthier peers. The drawbridge is rising. The gap between the self image of meritocratic openness and reality is wide. Psychologists call this “self-discrepancy”. Economists call it barriers to entry. This is an important observation. He also added: …Social capital is about knowing what to say to whom and when, which is a sophisticated skill. Technical learning is for others. Children of the elites are learning how to raise money for philanthropic causes. Economists define this as a positional good. Sociologists call it virtue signalling. Mr Trump calls it political correctness. And finally, Luce points out that the new bourgeoisie (not his word) are suffering from a loss of even the appearance of a meritocracy. Too few jobs for what are now the over-educated (well, over degreed). And Luce concludes with a particularly astute insight. The bourgeoisie are finding they need Trump. Without him there is no distraction. And then he poses the question for these aspiring classes; do they really love the highly educated as they claim? Do they deserve admiration because of their degrees? And here we touch upon the core issues at work socially in the Trump phenomenon. Trump is easy and even enjoyable to make fun of. He IS a distraction. But Trump also serves a very clear purpose for the 1%. Those who reign above the haute bourgeoisie. For Trump is still implementing the same policies that Hillary Clinton would have. The same wars, by and large. The same military build up. All the right people are still making money. The difference is in Trump’s less important appointments. The difference is Jeff Sessions for one. And the various minor cabinet hacks and flunkies he has installed in positions of limited but not insignificant power. He is normalizing in a way unprecedented, the weaponized ignorance of the Christian right. And this includes, of course, the open racism and xenophobia on display and perhaps crystalized in Mike Pence’s boorish crassness at the Olympics. Pence suffers no doubts. The new Christians of televangilism never do. These are creationists and believers in the rapture. That they are barking mad has been known for a while now, but never before have they entered the corridors of power. The 1% carry on as before. So does the Pentagon and CIA — though the infilitration of the Christian extremists in the Air Force is well documented. Remember, all Presidents must have prayer breakfasts for fuck sake. They must go to Church. They get a dog, and they put on leather bomber jackets for photo ops. And they have a spiritual advisor. There is a whole laundry list of must do’s. What is different now is that stupidity is being not just normalized but accepted as, perhaps, a virtue. Beevis and Butthead go to Washington. Bill & Ted’s excellent adventure on Capital Hill. How different, really, was George W. Bush? (the newly rehabilitated GWB, in a curious charm make over…but I digress…). So, no, the aspiring haute bourgeoisie do not REALLY love education. The hard work of studying is for proles. For Asian kids and social climbers and those quota scholarship kids. The idea of learning having some inherent value is now fully gone from the public imagination. Socrates who? He played *soccer* for Brazil, no? Literally nobody reads. I mean book stores are closing en mass. The Gutenberg era is over. I wrote recently on my blog about Hugh Kenner. I used to sneak into his lectures at UCSB in the early 70s. There are no Hugh Kenners anymore. Erudition is to become an obsolete word. The state of Minnesota is taking Huckleberry Finn off high school reading lists. Harper Lee is being taken off, too. No doubt others will follow. Hurtful. Twain’s epic novel is, apparently, “hurtful”. I am coming, I have to admit, to just not care about who has hurt feelings. All those social correctives that looked to rid the culture of racist images and language are now appropriated for other purposes. For narcissistic vehicles for anger. For America is as angry a society as the world may have ever seen. All that I see now, the new McCarthyism, the Russophobic propaganda that is swallowed wholesale, and not just swallowed but used as a kind of narcotic — is carried along and draws energy from a deep reservoir of rage. The old Puritan consciousness that wants nothing more than to chastise and shun is alive in the U.S. today. All these hurt feelings are expressions of the narcissistic desire to believe in our own uniqueness and specialness. And such subjective manufacture helps distract from the increasing sadism of American society overall. The real violence of a system based on inequality is buried. It is obscured. The violence of capital, of wage slavery is mystified. All relations under capitalism are coercive. And when the early Capitalist class collaborated with the Church to burn a few hundred thousand women as witches in the early 1700s, across Europe, they were setting a structural dynamic in motion. The Inquisition and witch burning were not the result of magic, but of the need for scapegoats and for ridding the system of autonomous women and small craftspeople. It set up a class war, essentially, one mediated in that case by a deep hatred of women. And fear. The destruction of various celebrities (mostly) for sexual *misconduct* has already been appropriated by NATO and CAA and even Paul Kagame got in the act (see Emma Watson and the Rwandian war criminal share a dais…all to *help* women in war torn areas, or something. I mean who knows. But its mind numbing how quickly such things are activated). Angelina Jolie, who never saw a country she didn’t want to bomb or quarantine (see marriage and honeymoon in Namibia) is also is out stumping for NATO aggressions under cover of protecting women in war zones. No mention of stopping war zones from being created, of course. MeToo became, as quick as you can write hashtag, a vehicle for the exact opposite of that for which it began. And this was predictable. Today the system has other scapegoats and other needs than it did during the witch trials in Europe. But the violence of capital is alive throughout the carceral system, alive in black communities where cops operate as anti insurgency soldiers bent on pacification. Fallujah or Baltimore, there is not a lot of difference. And the violence of Nikolas Cruz will cause great oceans of tears and hand wringing. Get rid of guns. Okay, how about those in the hands of cops — or those in the army or marine corps? Those are OK, because they don’t shoot up schools. Well, not *our* schools, anyway. There is a sort of pattern recognition in the public now. Shoot up a school is a certain class of irrational violence. People will posit notions about anti depressants or whatever. And it might have some truth to it. Maybe a lot, but I can guarantee that few will read anything about the beliefs of these *sick* shooters. That they all, like Anders Breivik, adhere to classic fascistic values and ideology. They do not fall out of the sky. They are the product of a vast number of forces, but they also kill not just because they suffer humiliation and are frustrated and emotionally disfigured. Or, rather, that emotional disfigurement creates the fascist sensibility. They do not think it is wrong, what they do. Cruz had a history of aggressive behaviour toward women. He was a member of ROTC and posted constantly on social media with various guns and weapons. Those who knew him said he was obsessed with guns. The chilling photos of cops in SWAT attire arresting a kid who wanted to be just like them. There is a strange closed loop of morbid mimetic activity on display. The U.S. today creates enemies. It often seems the primary activity of America, the manufacturing of global enemies and threats. Of late it is Putin and Kim Jong Il. But they are only the latest in a long line. U.S. police departments, heavily militarized, and increasingly trained in Israel for counter insurgency, are no longer in the policing business but rather in the soldiering business. They are militia, not peace officers. The dysfunctional extreme for what this produces is Nikolas Cruz. But how far is Cruz from the Florida cop who murdered a begging man, on his knees, on video? How far from George Zimmerman? One suspects those three might enjoy a beer together and share many of the same values. I am always struck when reading about these alleged lone wolf shooters how NOT alone they are. Klaus Thewelit’s seminal work Male Fantasies should be required reading. But if male-female relations of production under patriarchy are relations of oppression, it is appropriate to understand the sexuality created by, and active within, those relations as a sexuality of the oppressor and the oppressed. If the social nature of such “gender-distinctions” isn’t expressly emphasized, it seems grievously wrong to distinguish these sexualities according to the categories “male” and “female.” The sexuality of the patriarch is less “male” than it is deadly, just as that of the subjected women is not so much “female” as suppressed, devivified. — Klaus Thewelit Theweleit didn’t see genocide as the thwarted expression of inhibited sexual energies. His point was rather that the production of gender and sexuality are intimately tied to the content of anti-Semitism and overt racism—both before, during, and after the fall of the Weimar Republic. Fascist sexuality is not so much repressed as it is ideological: it idealizes virility and fertility as political imperatives. — Ana Teixeira Pinto The cultural post-modernism of today, at least in the U.S., is technologically sophisticated and socially hyper conservative. The neoliberal system might marginalize white nationalists but they cultivate their symbolism and much of their rhetoric. A Nikolas Cruz desired completion as the captain of capitalist manhood. His failures, his lack of productive labor, his relative poverty, escalated his hatred of those he saw as responsible — and at the head of that list one would guess would be women. But the indoctrination of men like Cruz, or boys, begins earlier. As Theweleit writes: “No man is forced to turn political fascist for reasons of economic devaluation or degradation. His fascism develops much earlier, from his feelings; he is a fascist from the inside.” The violence of the U.S. military, globally, inflicted on the most defenseless nations and people cannot be separated from cops in Chicago or Baltimore or Los Angeles, nor from Fallujuh and Libya and Syria. I mean, the U.S. has occupied Afghanistan for sixteen years. The U.S. military metaphorically rapes these countries. And it is a kind of re-colonializing. Sylvia Federici called the World Bank and IMF “the new Conquistadors”. Nor can it be separated, finally, from Harvey Weinstein or James Toback. Nor from the lynch mob hysteria that has coopted the entire #metoo* phenomenon. Nikolas Cruz sensed he was broken, and his longing for restoration was reflected back at him by those men who would later capture him. Kevlar and weaponry, helmeted faceless phallic superbodies. He could only merge with his fantasy through mimetic approximation. Cruz may be seen as insane, but he was not *only* insane. The anti-Russian propaganda that is spewed out daily by mainstream media is an insidious and destructive force that also cannot really be separated from the tidal swell of violence on the streets and in the institutions of U.S. society. Manufacturing contempt for North Korea or Yemen or Libya is not *only* propaganda. It has consequences to the psyches of the people that must absorb that inculcating assault. (Go back and read Ben Judah’s bizarre and lurid anti Putin piece at Newsweek,July 2014 — the one with Putin in shades on the cover, his eyes reflecting a burning …we presume…America. Read it now and just try to digest that this is what passes for *real* news as opposed to fake news). In March of last year Brian Cloughly began an article on this massive anti Russian propaganda this way… On January 30 NBC News reported that “On a snowy Polish plain dominated by Russian forces for decades, American tanks and troops sent a message to Moscow and demonstrated the firepower of the NATO alliance. Amid concerns that President Donald Trump’s commitment to NATO is wavering, the tanks fired salvos that declared the 28-nation alliance a vital deterrent in a dangerous new world. One intriguing aspect of this slanted account are the phrases “dominated by Russian forces for decades” and “vital deterrent” which are used by NBC to imply that Russia yearns, for some unspecified reason, to invade Poland. As is common in the Western media there is no justification or evidence to substantiate the suggestion that Russia is hell-bent on domination, and the fact that US troops are far from home, operating along the Russian border, is regarded as normal behaviour on the part of the world’s “indispensable nation”. This is just one example of out of literally hundreds and hundreds. One could find the same against Maduro and Venezuela and against the DPRK. It hardly needs pointing out that Hollywood produces endless paeans of love for militarism and male destructiveness. Capitalism produces economic inequality and as such cannot exist without political and social oppression. The contradictions of Hollywood’s endless fascist product and its equally endless hand wringing over sexual harassment or gun control should be obvious. The sexual harassment in Hollywood goes back to Shirley Temple. It is built into a system in which all parties are there to monetize themselves. It is also true that men with power must punish those beneath them. They cannot exist without subordinates. What Theweleit wrote of the *soldier male* (his term for the prototype ur fascist) that the most urgent task facing him…“is to pursue, to dam in, and to subdue any force that threatens to transform him back into the horribly disorganized jumble of flesh, hair, skin, bones, intestines, and feelings that calls itself human.” Hollywood produces narratives that make the non human heroic. The first Terminator was a watershed moment in that respect. A film whose message was that an android…no, a ‘killer’ android…made a better parent that the human version. Propaganda that creates phantom enemies is justified because Trump is now the perfect villain. And as such, is a tool of the ruling class. He is the justification for the abandonment of all notions of integrity and honesty, compassion or honour. One case of harassment I know of included a woman who had signed a non disclosure agreement and took payment of tens of thousands of dollars. She disclosed anyway and was applauded as heroic. It is not heroic to break your word. To take a payoff and then snitch anyway. But punishment is its own justification. Trump’s vulgarity is a kind of pride in ignorance trope. He intentionally chooses to be crude, because that is what his base desires. They may not admit it, those suburban small businessmen and managerial white class — but they do. A sense of shunning the soft and sensitive. Stories about escorts and golden showers only adds to his appeal. Those guys wish they could afford escorts. Trump is the grandson of a whore house owner, after all. He never sold himself as Adlai Stevenson. So, Mark Twain is hurtful. Libraries are being shuttered across the country. Book stores are closing. The U.S. poverty levels have exceeded those of many developing countries. The compulsive hatred of Putin by many who have almost zero idea about Putin or Russian history is disproportionate to any rational analysis, but not surprising. Trump and Putin are like weird doppelgangers in the liberal imagination. For the propagandists of the exceptional and indispensable nation the by-product of their creative activities is Nikolas Cruz. Trump shares with the far right parties growing across Europe the open disdain for democracy and free speech. Cruz was wearing a Trump cap in one of his Instagram photos. He wasn’t wearing a Che t-shirt. He wanted to kill antifa. He was not an isolated mentally disturbed killer. He was a fascist killer. He wanted to be made whole and inviolate. The way all fascists want to be whole, but cannot. http://clubof.info/