I take pride in the fact that I have never read a spicy book in my life.
Well, I used to at least.
Turns out, the awesome Dragon Rider burrito I ordered had a couple of unexpected jalapenos in it – but, luckily, not being prepared made it incredibly funny.
Overall, this is just a badass dragon story, so don’t let that other stuff… turn you off from it.
Violet Sorrengail was raised to be a scribe and set to live out her days surrounded by books – but if that worked out, we wouldn’t have much of a story.
Following her father’s death, her mother – the commanding general of Basgiath – ordered Violet to become one of the military’s elite dragon riders. While other candidates had years to prepare, Violet only had six months… and that’s on top of her unusually brittle body. Luckily for her, that wasn’t the last of the difficulties she would face.
Xaden Riorson, the strongest and most ruthless dragon rider that the quadrant has seen in years, wants her dead – along with most other riders within Basgiath’s walls.
Oh yeah, and it’s enemies-to-lovers.
I love this book.
Fourth Wing gained a massive following from its success on BookTok, but I only just recently found out it existed. Fourth Wing’s audiobook’s narrator, Rebecca Soler, also happens to be the narrator for Marrissa Meyer’s books… and I love Marissa Meyer’s books. Finding this hyper-popular bestseller from a list of narrator credits will never not be funny to me.
Oh and also, before we move on from audiobooks, I did want to mention that Graphic Audios just announced their adaptation, so some of you may want to wait until the entire book is adapted with their full cast. I know I’ll be giving that a shot come DecembeJanuary.
Moving forward, for those of you who are looking for a spoiler-free reason to go read this book, here you go:
Fourth Wing manages to seamlessly pull you into a world using only the necessary world-building while building on characters to a point where you will be bouncing in your seat as you read – or at least, I was.
tldr, go read the book.
Now, for those of you who want to hear my in-depth opinion so you can either agree emphatically or threaten my livelihood, we are now entering spoiler territory.
Liam. Yep. I am starting with Liam, the others can wait.
That one hurt Rebecca. That was unfair – and brilliant – but absolutely unfair. His arc from being a throwaway name to being so many of our favorites was so well done… but now we have to go four books without him. FOUR.
THAT’S THE WHOLE SERIES.
But it’s okay.
You wouldn’t do that again Rebecca, right?
Right?
Violet Sorrengail felt unique.
Sure, she’s still the classic “girl in love but stubborn about it,” but she wears the trope well. She has a healthy dose of “Meg” from Hercules Energy, which I love. Weird comparison, sure, but Hercules was a good movie so get over it.
Her unwavering mental fortitude despite how fragile her body is proves to be a winning combination, and as her character develops, that only becomes even more true.
The only criticism I have for Violet is that she was ever romantically interested in Dain. Ew.
Speaking of Dain, ew.
I’m not even going to add fan art of him. He doesn’t even deserve it.
I will, however, admit that Rebecca’s foreshadowing with him was pretty awesome, as I didn’t even know what he had been doing until Xaden told Violet – but yeah fuck that guy. He made me uncomfortable the moment he was introduced.
DRAGONS! LETS TALK ABOUT DRAGONS!
Tairn is so cool! The moment he was mentioned in the story, I instantly thought, “Oh, that’s going to be Violet’s dragon.” The massive black dragon will obviously go to the fragile girl who also happens to be the protagonist.
Then, when Andarna was mentioned, I started questioning my earlier thoughts. It felt too obvious, but it was just enough to make me doubt.
Then Rebecca said fuck it, we ball.
The scene where Violet is registering the names of her bonded dragons is probably one of my favorites. That and the flaming curtains.
That shit was funny.
Xaden Riorson.
Oh boy.
I know that the dark, brooding type is not exactly the “Newton’s apple” of romantacy… but who cares? Xaden is like, my favorite guy. He is imposing, a renegade, and says deep, poetic shit like, “There’s nowhere in existence you could go that I wouldn’t find you, Violence.”
How could you not like him?
Plus, Violence is a hype nickname, so kudos to that.
If they aren’t the endgame duo, Fourth Wing will officially become a single novel rather than the start of a five-book journey.
That being said, if she kills both of them, that’s alright too. Normally I would shun that, but total protagonist death beats the alternative – at least they wouldn’t be left alone in the world.
Personally, I think we are going to get a slow burn and have to deal with them fighting and then get back together a couple of times. The whole “mated dragons” thing kind of forces that. It’s a bit like Katniss & Peeta’s situation in Catching Fire, and we know that they made it work, eventually.
Theories like “Dain is the enemy is enemies-to-romance” or “Andarna will get a mate” are stupid. Plus, I’m pretty sure Andarna won’t be getting a mate anytime soon, being a 2-year-old dragon and all. Tairn and Sgaeyl are presumably hundreds of years old.
But, enough mushy romance theories. I need to take a breather and remind myself that this entire story is literally just written words on a page. Okay.
Moving on.
Here’s what you probably didn’t come for but kind of has to be mentioned.
I was a silly guy. I didn’t realize that “New Adult” often tackles sex – and the worst part is that this one’s all on me. I can’t even deflect blame in an attempt to retain my innocence.
So, there I was, listening to the AUDIOBOOK, and minding my own business when… well… you know. Unexpected words started being said and I started getting very confused. I felt like Mike on the first night of working at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.
All and all, it’s a really small part of the book, taking a back seat while the plot and relationships take the driver’s side. It’s not just a bottle of hot sauce the whole way through and when it is, the scenes actually seem to serve some purpose in character progression. Unlike some other books.
Also, Xaden is a peak gentleman so we love that.
Suffice it to say, I think I’ll just read the sequel. With my eyes.
This book has given me a new goal for my own writing. I want readers to be able to see my worlds in their minds the same way I was able to see Basgiath War College.
I want my characters to stick out like Violet, Xaden, and even Dain – and I want my readers to flock to TikTok or wherever desperately looking for reassurance about future storylines just like I do.
So, in an announcement that surprises no one: I cannot wait for Iron Flame. The way Rebecca ended Fourth Wing was… I don’t even know. There is so much that could be going down in Iron Flame.
I need that book, but I’m not sure I’m ready for it – if I’ll ever be ready for it – but regardless, it’ll be on my shelf come November 7th. I hope that my review with have as much praise as this one does.
Fourth Wing is a story about dragons, sure, but it’s also about humans and just how much we are willing to sacrifice to maintain power and ignorance.
A reader without this book is a tragedy.
This book without a reader is… still a book? I guess?

Not sure if I should hoard them or use them asap
And since apparently my last post was removed because I didn’t reach a 100 character limit on a super simple easy question
Here’s the entire bee movie script to ensure I follow their stupid rules and meet the character count
Bee Movie By Jerry Seinfeld
NARRATOR: (Black screen with text; The sound of buzzing bees can be heard) According to all known laws of aviation, : there is no way a bee should be able to fly. : Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. : The bee, of course, flies anyway : because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. BARRY BENSON: (Barry is picking out a shirt) Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. : Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. JANET BENSON: Barry! Breakfast is ready! BARRY: Coming! : Hang on a second. (Barry uses his antenna like a phone) : Hello? ADAM FLAYMAN:
(Through phone) - Barry? BARRY: - Adam? ADAM: - Can you believe this is happening? BARRY: - I can't. I'll pick you up. (Barry flies down the stairs) : MARTIN BENSON: Looking sharp. JANET: Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. BARRY: Sorry. I'm excited. MARTIN: Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. : A perfect report card, all B's. JANET: Very proud. (Rubs Barry's hair) BARRY= Ma! I got a thing going here. JANET: - You got lint on your fuzz. BARRY: - Ow! That's me!
JANET: - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! (Barry flies out the door) JANET: Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! (Barry drives through the hive,and is waved at by Adam who is reading a newspaper) BARRY== - Hey, Adam. ADAM: - Hey, Barry. (Adam gets in Barry's car) : - Is that fuzz gel? BARRY: - A little. Special day, graduation. ADAM: Never thought I'd make it. (Barry pulls away from the house and continues driving) BARRY: Three days grade school, three days high school... ADAM: Those were awkward. BARRY: Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. ADAM== You did come back different. (Barry and Adam pass by Artie, who is jogging) ARTIE: - Hi, Barry!
BARRY: - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. ADAM: - Hear about Frankie? BARRY: - Yeah. ADAM== - You going to the funeral? BARRY: - No, I'm not going to his funeral. : Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. : Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. ADAM: I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. (The car does a barrel roll on the loop-shaped bridge and lands on the highway) : I love this incorporating an amusement park into our regular day. BARRY: I guess that's why they say we don't need vacations. (Barry parallel parks the car and together they fly over the graduating students) Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. (Barry and Adam sit down and put on their hats) : - Well, Adam, today we are men.
ADAM: - We are! BARRY= - Bee-men. =ADAM= - Amen! BARRY AND ADAM: Hallelujah! (Barry and Adam both have a happy spasm) ANNOUNCER: Students, faculty, distinguished bees, : please welcome Dean Buzzwell. DEAN BUZZWELL: Welcome, New Hive Oity graduating class of... : ...9: : That concludes our ceremonies. : And begins your career at Honex Industries! ADAM: Will we pick our job today? (Adam and Barry get into a tour bus) BARRY= I heard it's just orientation. (Tour buses rise out of the ground and the students are automatically loaded into the buses) TOUR GUIDE: Heads up! Here we go.
ANNOUNCER: Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. BARRY: - Wonder what it'll be like? ADAM: - A little scary. TOUR GUIDE== Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco : and a part of the Hexagon Group. Barry: This is it! BARRY AND ADAM: Wow. BARRY: Wow. (The bus drives down a road an on either side are the Bee's massive complicated Honey-making machines) TOUR GUIDE: We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life : to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. : Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. : Our top-secret formula : is automatically color-corrected,
scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured : into this soothing sweet syrup : with its distinctive golden glow you know as... EVERYONE ON BUS: Honey! (The guide has been collecting honey into a bottle and she throws it into the crowd on the bus and it is caught by a girl in the back) ADAM: - That girl was hot. BARRY: - She's my cousin! ADAM== - She is? BARRY: - Yes, we're all cousins. ADAM: - Right. You're right. TOUR GUIDE: - At Honex, we constantly strive : to improve every aspect of bee existence. : These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. (The bus passes by a Bee wearing a helmet who is being smashed into the ground with fly-swatters, newspapers and boots. He lifts a thumbs up but you can hear him groan) : ADAM==

• What do you think he makes? BARRY:
• Not enough. TOUR GUIDE: Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. (They pass by a turning wheel with Bees standing on pegs, who are each wearing a finger-shaped hat) Barry:
• Wow, What does that do? TOUR GUIDE:
• Catches that little strand of honey : that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. ADAM: (Intrigued) Can anyone work on the Krelman? TOUR GUIDE: Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. : But choose carefully : because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. (Everyone claps except for Barry) BARRY: The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. ADAM:

What's the difference? TOUR GUIDE: You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off : in 27 million years. BARRY: (Upset) So you'll just work us to death? : We'll sure try. (Everyone on the bus laughs except Barry. Barry and Adam are walking back home together) ADAM: Wow! That blew my mind! BARRY: "What's the difference?" How can you say that? : One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. ADAM: I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. BARRY: But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? ADAM: Why would you question anything? We're bees. : We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth.
BARRY: You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? ADAM: Like what? Give me one example. (Barry and Adam stop walking and it is revealed to the audience that hundreds of cars are speeding by and narrowly missing them in perfect unison) BARRY: I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. ANNOUNCER: Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. BARRY: Wait a second. Check it out. (The Pollen jocks fly in, circle around and landing in line) : - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! ADAM: - Wow. : I've never seen them this close. BARRY: They know what it's like outside the hive. ADAM: Yeah, but some don't come back. GIRL BEES: - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! (The Pollen Jocks hook up their backpacks to machines that pump the nectar to trucks, which drive away)
LOU LO DUVA: You guys did great! : You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! (Punching the Pollen Jocks in joy) I love it! ADAM: - I wonder where they were. BARRY: - I don't know. : Their day's not planned. : Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. : You can't just decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. ADAM== Right. (Barry and Adam are covered in some pollen that floated off of the Pollen Jocks) BARRY: Look at that. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. ADAM: It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. BARRY: Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it. (Barry waves at 2 girls standing a little away from them)
ADAM== Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? BARRY: Distant. Distant. POLLEN JOCK #1: Look at these two. POLLEN JOCK #2: - Couple of Hive Harrys. POLLEN JOCK #1: - Let's have fun with them. GIRL BEE #1: It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. BARRY: Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! : He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! (Slaps Adam with his hand to represent his scenario) GIRL BEE #2: - Oh, my! BARRY: - I never thought I'd knock him out. GIRL BEE #1: (Looking at Adam) What were you doing during this? ADAM: Obviously I was trying to alert the authorities. BARRY: I can autograph that.
(The pollen jocks walk up to Barry and Adam, they pretend that Barry and Adam really are pollen jocks.) POLLEN JOCK #1: A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? BARRY: Yeah. Gusty. POLLEN JOCK #1: We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. BARRY: - Six miles, huh? ADAM: - Barry! POLLEN JOCK #2: A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. BARRY: - Maybe I am. ADAM: - You are not! POLLEN JOCK #1: We're going 0900 at J-Gate. : What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? BARRY: I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. (The scene cuts to Barry looking out on the hive-city from his balcony at night) MARTIN:
: hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. : Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. : Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! BARRY: - That's awful. LOU LO DUVA: (Still talking through megaphone) - And a reminder for you rookies, : bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! : All right, launch positions! POLLEN JOCKS: (The Pollen Jocks run into formation) : Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! LOU LU DUVA: Black and yellow! POLLEN JOCKS:
Hello! POLLEN JOCK #1: (To Barry)You ready for this, hot shot? BARRY: Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. POLLEN JOCK's: Wind, check. : - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. : - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. BARRY: Scared out of my shorts, check. LOU LO DUVA: OK, ladies, : let's move it out! : Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! : All of you, drain those flowers! (The pollen jocks fly out of the hive) BARRY: Wow! I'm out! : I can't believe I'm out! : So blue.
: I feel so fast and free! : Box kite! (Barry flies through the kite) : Wow! : Flowers! (A pollen jock puts on some high tech goggles that shows flowers similar to heat sink goggles.) POLLEN JOCK: This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. : Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. : Roses! POLLEN JOCK #1: 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. : Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick. (The pollen jock fires a high-tech gun at the flower, shooting tubes that suck up the nectar from the flower and collects it into a pouch on the gun) BARRY: That is one nectar collector! POLLEN JOCK #1== - Ever see pollination up close? BARRY: - No, sir. POLLEN JOCK #1:
(Barry and the Pollen jock fly over the field, the pollen jock sprinkles pollen as he goes) : I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, : a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. BARRY: That's amazing. Why do we do that? POLLEN JOCK #1: That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. BARRY: Cool. POLLEN JOCK #1: I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. could be daisies. Don't we need those? POLLEN JOCK #2: Copy that visual. : Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. POLLEN JOCK #1: Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? POLLEN JOCK #2: Affirmative. (The Pollen jocks land near the "flowers" which, to the audience are obviously just tennis balls) KEN: (In the distance) That was on the line!
POLLEN JOCK #1: This is the coolest. What is it? POLLEN JOCK #2: I don't know, but I'm loving this color. : It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. POLLEN JOCK #1: Yeah, fuzzy. (Sticks his hand on the ball but it gets stuck) POLLEN JOCK #3== Chemical-y. (The pollen jock finally gets his hand free from the tennis ball) POLLEN JOCK #1: Careful, guys. It's a little grabby. (The pollen jocks turn around and see Barry lying his entire body on top of one of the tennis balls) POLLEN JOCK #2: My sweet lord of bees! POLLEN JOCK #3: Candy-brain, get off there! POLLEN JOCK #1: (Pointing upwards) Problem! (A human hand reaches down and grabs the tennis ball that Barry is stuck to) BARRY: - Guys! POLLEN JOCK #2: - This could be bad. POLLEN JOCK #3: Affirmative. (Vanessa Bloome starts bouncing the tennis ball, not knowing Barry is stick to it)
BARRY== Very close. : Gonna hurt. : Mama's little boy. (Barry is being hit back and forth by two humans playing tennis. He is still stuck to the ball) POLLEN JOCK #1: You are way out of position, rookie! KEN: Coming in at you like a MISSILE! (Barry flies past the pollen jocks, still stuck to the ball) BARRY: (In slow motion) Help me! POLLEN JOCK #2: I don't think these are flowers. POLLEN JOCK #3: - Should we tell him? POLLEN JOCK #1: - I think he knows. BARRY: What is this?! KEN: Match point! : ...l - Objection! (Vanessa raises her hand to object but Adam gets free. He flies straight at Montgomery) =ADAM: - I'm going to pincushion this guy! BARRY: Adam, don't! It's what he wants! (Adam stings Montgomery in the butt and he starts thrashing around)
MONTGOMERY: Oh, I'm hit!! : Oh, lordy, I am hit! JUDGE BUMBLETON: (Banging gavel) Order! Order! MONTGOMERY: (Overreacting) The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! : I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! : You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! : Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! BARRY: - Adam, stay with me. ADAM: - I can't feel my legs. MONTGOMERY: (Overreacting and throwing his body around the room) What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison : from my heaving buttocks? JUDGE BUMLBETON: I will have order in this court. Order!
: Order, please! (Flash forward in time and we see a human news reporter) NEWS REPORTER: The case of the honeybees versus the human race : took a pointed turn against the bees : yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. (Adam is laying in a hospital bed and Barry flies in to see him) BARRY: - Hey, buddy. ADAM: - Hey. BARRY: - Is there much pain? ADAM: - Yeah. : I... : I blew the whole case, didn't I? BARRY: It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. ADAM: I'd be better off dead. Look at me. (A small plastic sword is replaced as Adam's stinger) They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich.
: Look, there's a little celery still on it. (Flicks off the celery and sighs) BARRY: What was it like to sting someone? ADAM: I can't explain it. It was all... : All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! BARRY: ...All right. ADAM: You think it was all a trap? BARRY: Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. : What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. ADAM: What will the humans do to us if they win? BARRY: I don't know. ADAM: I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. BARRY: Adam, they check in, but they don't check out!
ADAM: Oh, my. (Coughs) Could you get a nurse to close that window? BARRY: - Why? ADAM: - The smoke. (We can see that two humans are smoking cigarettes outside) : Bees don't smoke. BARRY: Right. Bees don't smoke. : Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. : That's it! That's our case! ADAM: It is? It's not over? BARRY: Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. : Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. (Flash forward in time and Adam is making a paper boat in the courtroom) ADAM: And assuming you've done step 29 correctly, you're ready for the tub! (We see that the jury have each made their own paper boats after being taught how by Adam. They all look confused) JUDGE BUMBLETON:
Mr. Flayman. ADAM: Yes? Yes, Your Honor! JUDGE BUMBLETON: Where is the rest of your team? ADAM: (Continues stalling) Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. : Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, : and as a result, we don't make very good time. : I actually heard a funny story about... MONTGOMERY: Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs : taken up enough of this court's valuable time? : How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? : They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges : against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. : I move for a complete dismissal
of this entire case! JUDGE BUMBLETON: Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going : to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. ADAM: But you can't! We have a terrific case. MONTGOMERY: Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? : Show me the smoking gun! BARRY: (Barry flies in through the door) Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? : Here is your smoking gun. (Vanessa walks in holding a bee smoker. She sets it down on the Judge's podium) JUDGE BUMBLETON: What is that? BARRY: It's a bee smoker! MONTGOMERY: (Picks up smoker) What, this? This harmless little contraption? : This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. (Montgomery accidentally fires it at the bees in the crowd and they faint
and cough) (Dozens of reporters start taking pictures of the suffering bees) BARRY: Look at what has happened : to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" : Is this what nature intended for us? : To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines : and man-made wooden slat work camps? : Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? (Barry points to the honey industry owners. One of them is an African American so he awkwardly separates himself from the others) LAWYER: - What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. BARRY: Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! ADAM AND VANESSA: Free the bees! Free the bees! BEES IN CROWD: Free the bees! HUMAN JURY: Free the bees! Free the bees! JUDGE BUMBLETON: The court finds in favor of the bees!
BARRY: Vanessa, we won! VANESSA: I knew you could do it! High-five! (Vanessa hits Barry hard because her hand is too big) : Sorry. BARRY: (Overjoyed) I'm OK! You know what this means? : All the honey will finally belong to the bees. : Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. MONTGOMERY: This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. : You'll regret this. (Montgomery leaves and Barry goes outside the courtroom. Several reporters start asking Barry questions) REPORTER 1#: Barry, how much honey is out there? BARRY: All right. One at a time. REPORTER 2#: Barry, who are you wearing? BARRY: My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants.
(Barry flies outside with the paparazzi and Adam and Vanessa stay back) ADAM: (To Vanessa) - What if Montgomery's right? Vanessa: - What do you mean? ADAM: We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. (Flash forward in time and Barry is talking to a man) BUSINESS MAN: Congratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? BARRY: First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. (As Barry is talking we see a montage of men putting "closed" tape over the work camps and freeing the bees in the crappy apartments) Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, : every last drop. (Men in suits are pushing all the honey of the aisle and into carts) We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more (We see a statue of a bear-shaped honey container being pulled down by bees) than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. : We're all aware of what they do in the woods. (We see Winnie the Pooh sharing his honey with Piglet in the cross-hairs of a high-tech sniper rifle) BARRY: (Looking through binoculars)
Wait for my signal. : Take him out. (Winnie gets hit by a tranquilizer dart and dramatically falls off the log he was standing on, his tongue hanging out. Piglet looks at Pooh in fear and the Sniper takes the honey.) SNIPER: He'll have nausea for a few hours, then he'll be fine. (Flash forward in time) BARRY: And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... (Mr. Sting is sitting at home until he is taken out of his house by the men in suits) STING: But it's just a prance-about stage name! BARRY: ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products : and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. (An old lady is mixing honey into her tea but suddenly men in suits smash her face down on the table and take the honey) OLD LADY: Can't breathe. (A honey truck pulls up to Barry's hive) WORKER: Bring it in, boys! : Hold it right there! Good. : Tap it.
(Tons of honey is being pumped into the hive's storage) BEE WORKER 1#: (Honey overflows from the cup) Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! : - I think we need to shut down! =BEE WORKER #2= - Shut down? We've never shut down. : Shut down honey production! DEAN BUZZWELL: Stop making honey! (The bees all leave their stations. Two bees run into a room and they put the keys into a machine) Turn your key, sir! (Two worker bees dramatically turn their keys, which opens the button which they press, shutting down the honey-making machines. This is the first time this has ever happened) BEE: ...What do we do now? (Flash forward in time and a Bee is about to jump into a pool full of honey) Cannonball! (The bee gets stuck in the honey and we get a short montage of Bees leaving work) (We see the Pollen Jocks flying but one of them gets a call on his antenna) LOU LU DUVA: (Through "phone") We're shutting honey production! : Mission abort. POLLEN JOCK #1: Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. (The Pollen Jocks fly back to the hive)
(We get a time lapse of Central Park slowly wilting away as the bees all relax) BARRY: Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. ADAM: Oh, yeah? BARRY: What's going on? Where is everybody? (The entire street is deserted) : - Are they out celebrating? ADAM: - They're home. : They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. : I heard your Uncle Carl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. BARRY: At least we got our honey back. ADAM: Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? : It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. : This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. :
And now... : Now I can't. (Flash forward in time and Barry is talking to Vanessa) BARRY: I don't understand why they're not happy. : I thought their lives would be better! : They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. VANESSA: You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? BARRY: - What did you want to show me? (Vanessa takes Barry to the rooftop where they first had coffee and points to her store) VANESSA: - This. (Points at her flowers. They are all grey and wilting) BARRY: What happened here? VANESSA: That is not the half of it. (Small flash forward in time and Vanessa and Barry are on the roof of her store and she points to Central Park) (We see that Central Park is no longer green and colorful, rather it is grey, brown, and dead-like. It is very depressing to look at) BARRY: Oh, no. Oh, my. :
They're all wilting. VANESSA: Doesn't look very good, does it? BARRY: No. VANESSA: And whose fault do you think that is? BARRY: You know, I'm gonna guess bees. VANESSA== (Staring at Barry) Bees? BARRY: Specifically, me. : I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. VANESSA: It's not just flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees. BARRY: That's our whole SAT test right there. VANESSA: Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. : And then, of course... BARRY: The human species? : So if there's no more pollination,
: it could all just go south here, couldn't it? VANESSA: I know this is also partly my fault. BARRY: How about a suicide pact? VANESSA: How do we do it? BARRY: - I'll sting you, you step on me. VANESSA: - That just kills you twice. BARRY: Right, right. VANESSA: Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. (Vanessa leaves) BARRY: (To himself) I had to open my mouth and talk. : Vanessa? : Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? (Vanessa is getting into a taxi) VANESSA: To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. :
They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. : It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. BARRY: Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. VANESSA: I know. Me neither. (The taxi starts to drive away) BARRY: Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. : Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? : Roses! : Vanessa! (Barry flies after the Taxi) VANESSA: Roses?! : Barry? (Barry is flying outside the window of the taxi) BARRY: - Roses are flowers! VANESSA: - Yes, they are. BARRY: Flowers, bees, pollen!
VANESSA: I know. That's why this is the last parade. BARRY: Maybe not. Could you ask him to slow down? VANESSA: Could you slow down? (The taxi driver screeches to a stop and Barry keeps flying forward) : Barry! (Barry flies back to the window) BARRY: OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. VANESSA: Yes, it kind of is. BARRY: I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you : with the flower shop. I've made it worse. VANESSA: Actually, it's completely closed down. BARRY: I thought maybe you were remodeling. : But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. VANESSA: I don't want to hear it!
BARRY: All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. : I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. : All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. : - Bees. VANESSA: - Park. BARRY: - Pollen! VANESSA: - Flowers. BARRY: - Re-pollination! VANESSA: - Across the nation! : Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, California. : They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. : Security will be tight. BARRY: I have an idea.
(Flash forward in time. Vanessa is about to board a plane which has all the Roses on board. VANESSA: Vanessa Bloome, FTD. (Holds out badge) : Official floral business. It's real. SECURITY GUARD: Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. =VANESSA== Thank you. It was a gift. (Barry is revealed to be hiding inside the brooch) (Flash back in time and Barry and Vanessa are discussing their plan) BARRY: Once inside, we just pick the right float. VANESSA: How about The Princess and the Pea? : I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! BARRY: Yes, I got it. : - Where should I sit? GUARD: - What are you? BARRY: - I believe I'm the pea. GUARD: - The pea? VANESSA:
It goes under the mattresses. GUARD: - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. VANESSA: You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! : Let's see what this baby'll do. (Vanessa drives the float through traffic) GUARD: Hey, what are you doing?! BARRY== Then all we do is blend in with traffic... : ...without arousing suspicion. : Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. (Flash forward in time and Barry and Vanessa are about to get on a plane) SECURITY GUARD: Stop! Security. : - You and your insect pack your float? VANESSA: - Yes. SECURITY GUARD: Has it been in your possession the entire time? VANESSA: - Yes.
SECURITY GUARD: Would you remove your shoes? (To Barry) - Remove your stinger. BARRY: - It's part of me. SECURITY GUARD: I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. (Barry plotting with Vanessa) BARRY: Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. (Flash forward in time and Barry and Vanessa are flying on the plane) Can you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! VANESSA: I think this is gonna work. BARRY: It's got to work. CAPTAIN SCOTT: (On intercom) Attention, passengers, this is Captain Scott. : We have a bit of bad weather in New York. : It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. VANESSA: Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. BARRY:
I gotta get up there and talk to them. VANESSA== Be careful. (Barry flies right outside the cockpit door) BARRY: Can I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. (The flight attendant opens the door and walks out and Barry flies into the cockpit unseen) BARRY: Captain, I'm in a real situation. CAPTAIN SCOTT: - What'd you say, Hal? CO-PILOT HAL: - Nothing. (Scott notices Barry and freaks out) CAPTAIN SCOTT: Bee! BARRY: No,no,no, Don't freak out! My entire species... (Captain Scott gets out of his seat and tries to suck Barry into a handheld vacuum) HAL: (To Scott) What are you doing? (Barry lands on Hals hair but Scott sees him. He tries to suck up Barry but instead he sucks up Hals toupee) CAPTAIN SCOTT: Uh-oh. BARRY: - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney!
HAL: (Hal doesn't know Barry is on his head) - Who's an attorney? CAPTAIN SCOTT: Don't move. (Scott hits Hal in the face with the vacuum in an attempt to hit Barry. Hal is knocked out and he falls on the life raft button which launches an infalatable boat into Scott, who gets knocked out and falls to the floor. They are both uncounscious.) BARRY: (To himself) Oh, Barry. BARRY: (On intercom, with a Southern accent) Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. : Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? (Vanessa looks confused) (Normal accent) ...And please hurry! (Vanessa opens the door and sees the life raft and the uncounscious pilots) VANESSA: What happened here? BARRY: I tried to talk to them, but then there was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. : Now one's bald, one's in a boat, and they're both unconscious! VANESSA: ...Is that another bee joke? BARRY:

• No! : No one's flying the plane! BUD DITCHWATER: (Through radio on plane) This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? VANESSA: This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. BUD: Where's the pilot? VANESSA: He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. BUD: Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? BARRY: As a matter of fact, there is. BUD:
• Who's that? BARRY:
• Barry Benson. BUD: From the honey trial?! Oh, great. BARRY: Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. : It's got giant wings, huge engines.

VANESSA: I can't fly a plane. BARRY: - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? VANESSA: - Yes. BARRY: How hard could it be? (Vanessa sits down and flies for a little bit but we see lightning clouds outside the window) VANESSA: Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. (An ominous lightning storm looms in front of the plane) (We are now watching the Bee News) BOB BUMBLE: This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, : where a suspenseful scene is developing. : Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... ADAM: That's Barry! BOB BUMBLE: ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers : and an incapacitated flight crew. JANET, MARTIN, UNCLE CAR AND ADAM: Flowers?! (The scene switches to the human news)
REPORTER: (Talking with Bob Bumble) We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls : with absolutely no flight experience. BOB BUMBLE: Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. BUD: I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. : They've done enough damage. REPORTER: But isn't he your only hope? BUD: Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. : Their wings are too small... BARRY: (Through radio) Haven't we heard this a million times? : "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense."... BOB BUMBLE: - Get this on the air! BEE: - Got it.
BEE NEWS CREW: - Stand by. BEE NEWS CREW: - We're going live! BARRY: (Through radio on TV) ...The way we work may be a mystery to you. : Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. : But let me tell you about a small job. : If you do it well, it makes a big difference. : More than we realized. To us, to everyone. : That's why I want to get bees back to working together. : That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. : We get behind a fellow. : - Black and yellow! BEES: - Hello! (The scene switches and Barry is teaching Vanessa how to fly) BARRY:
Left, right, down, hover. VANESSA: - Hover? BARRY: - Forget hover. VANESSA: This isn't so hard. (Pretending to honk the horn) Beep-beep! Beep-beep! (A Lightning bolt hits the plane and autopilot turns off) Barry, what happened?! BARRY: Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. VANESSA: - That may have been helping me. BARRY: - And now we're not! VANESSA: So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. (The plane plummets but we see Lou Lu Duva and the Pollen Jocks, along with multiple other bees flying towards the plane) Lou Lu DUva: All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! : Move out! (The scene switches back to Vanessa and Barry in the plane) BARRY: Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! (Barry sticks out his arms like an airplane and flys in front of Vanessa's face)
VANESSA: Don't have to yell. BARRY: I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. VANESSA: It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! BARRY: It's not a tone. I'm panicking! VANESSA: I can't do this! (Barry slaps Vanessa) BARRY: Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! VANESSA: (Slaps Barry) You snap out of it. BARRY: (Slaps Vanessa) : You snap out of it. VANESSA: - You snap out of it! BARRY: - You snap out of it! (We see that all the Pollen Jocks are flying under the plane) VANESSA: - You snap out of it! BARRY: - You snap out of it!
VANESSA: - You snap out of it! BARRY: - You snap out of it! VANESSA: - Hold it! BARRY: - Why? Come on, it's my turn. VANESSA: How is the plane flying? (The plane is now safely flying) VANESSA: I don't know. (Barry's antennae rings like a phone. Barry picks up) BARRY: Hello? LOU LU DUVA: (Through "phone") Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? (All of the Pollen Jocks are carrying the plane) BARRY: The Pollen Jocks! : They do get behind a fellow. LOU LU DUVA: - Black and yellow. POLLEN JOCKS: - Hello. LOU LU DUVA: All right, let's drop this tin can
on the blacktop. BARRY: Where? I can't see anything. Can you? VANESSA: No, nothing. It's all cloudy. : Come on. You got to think bee, Barry. BARRY: - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. (On the runway there are millions of bees laying on their backs) BEES: Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! BARRY: Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. VANESSA: - What? BARRY: - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. : Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. : Bring the nose down. BEES: Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! CONTROL TOWER OPERATOR: - What in the world is on the tarmac? BUD: - Get some lights on that!
(It is revealed that all the bees are organized into a giant pulsating flower formation) BEES: Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! BARRY: - Vanessa, aim for the flower. VANESSA: - OK. BARRY: Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? LOU LU DUVA: Affirmative! BARRY: Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. : Land on that flower! : Ready? Full reverse! : Spin it around! (The plane's nose is pointed at a flower painted on a nearby plane) - Not that flower! The other one! VANESSA: - Which one? BARRY: - That flower. (The plane is now pointed at a fat guy in a flowered shirt. He freaks out and tries to take a picture of the plane) VANESSA: - I'm aiming at the flower!
BARRY: That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! (The plane hovers over the bee-flower) : Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. : Rotate around it. VANESSA: - This is insane, Barry! BARRY: - This's the only way I know how to fly. BUD: Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? (The plane is unrealistically hovering and spinning over the bee-flower) BARRY: Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! : Just drop it. Be a part of it. : Aim for the center! : Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! : Come on, already. (The bees scatter and the plane safely lands) VANESSA: Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly!
BARRY: - Yes! (Vanessa is about to high-five Barry) No high-five! VANESSA: - Right. ADAM: Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? BARRY: What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! ADAM: - Thank you. BARRY: - But we're not done yet. : Listen, everyone! : This runway is covered with the last pollen : from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. : That means this is our last chance. : We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. : If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say?
: Are we going to be bees, or just Museum of Natural History keychains? BEES: We're bees! BEE WHO LIKES KEYCHAINS: Keychain! BARRY: Then follow me! Except Keychain. POLLEN JOCK #1: Hold on, Barry. Here. : You've earned this. BARRY: Yeah! : I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. (The Pollen Jocks throw Barry a nectar-collecting gun. Barry catches it) Oh, yeah. JANET: That's our Barry. (Barry and the Pollen Jocks get pollen from the flowers on the plane) (Flash forward in time and the Pollen Jocks are flying over NYC) : (Barry pollinates the flowers in Vanessa's shop and then heads to Central Park) BOY IN PARK: Mom! The bees are back! ADAM: (Putting on his Krelman hat) If anybody needs
to make a call, now's the time. : I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! (The bee honey factories are back up and running) (Meanwhile at Vanessa's shop) VANESSA: (To customer) Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Can I help who's next? : Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. (There is a room in the shop where Barry does legal work for other animals. He is currently talking with a Cow) COW: Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel! : Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! BARRY: I had no idea. VANESSA: Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? BARRY: Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. MOOSEBLOOD: Sorry I'm late. COW: He's a lawyer too?
MOOSEBLOOD: Ma'am, I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. VANESSA: Have a great afternoon! : Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. BARRY: No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. VANESSA: You're a lifesaver, Barry. Can I help who's next? BARRY: All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. VANESSA: Thank you, Barry! (Ken walks by on the sidewalk and sees the "bee-approved honey" in Vanessa's shop) KEN: That bee is living my life!! ANDY: Let it go, Kenny. KEN: - When will this nightmare end?! ANDY: - Let it all go. BARRY: - Beautiful day to fly. POLLEN JOCK:

• Sure is. BARRY: Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. (Barry recreates the scene near the beginning of the movie where he flies through the box kite. The movie fades to black and the credits being) [--after credits; No scene can be seen but the characters can be heard talking over the credits--] You have got to start thinking bee, my friend! :
• Thinking bee!
• Me? BARRY: (Talking over singer) Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. : I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Can we stop here

History non consensual medical experiments Nazi Germany
Full Text >>>https://www.mp.pl/auschwitz/journal/english/170062,pseudo-medical-experimens-in-hitlers-concentration-camps

Pseudo-medical experiments in Hitler’s concentration camps. Medical Review – Auschwitz. August 24, 2017.

Originally published as “Eksperymenty pseudomedyczne w hitlerowskich obozach koncentracyjnych.” Przegląd Lekarski – Oświęcim. 1973: 64–72.

Authors
Andrzej Jakubik, MD, PhD, born 1938, psychiatrist and psychologist, Professor at the Institute of Psychiatry and Neurology in Warsaw.
Zdzisław Jan Ryn, MD, PhD, born 1938, Professor Emeritus of Psychiatry and formerly Head of the Department of Social Pathology at the Collegium Medicum, Jagiellonian University, Kraków. Vice-Dean of the Faculty of Medicine of the Kraków Medical Academy (1981–1984). Polish Ambassador to Chile and Bolivia (1991–1996) and Argentina (2007–2008). Professor of Psychiatry at the University of Physical Education (AWF) in Kraków. Co-editor of Przegląd Lekarski – Oświęcim.
“As regards the concepts of moral beauty and justice, such a diversity and inconstancy of opinions prevails that there is even a view that these concepts exist only thanks to convention.”
Aristotle
Only minor and incidental contributions have been published hitherto in the Polish literature on the subject of pseudo-medical experiments conducted in diverse Nazi camps [Editor’s note: the article was published in 1973. For a contemporary article and up-to-date research, watch The worth of a woman: Compensating the chemical sterilization victims of Auschwitz Block 10 by Paul J. Weindling or read “Experimental Block No. 10 in Auschwitz” by Maria Ciesielska]. There has been considerable confusion over the various types of illicit activities practised by SS doctors and orderlies, who for example did their medical training by carrying out surgery on prisoners. Such actions have sometimes been mistaken for medical experiments. Various attitudes have been taken to such activities so far in Polish publications, and in general there has been little or no consistency in the way they have been treated. Given such a situation, this article attempts to present a synthetic overview based on selected cases and archival materials. It will not be a full picture of all the types of experiments and criminal acts perpetrated by Nazi physicians, pharmacists and orderlies; neither will it cover the full list of camps and sub‑camps, nor even of the prisons in which the Nazis conducted their experiments.
Pseudo‑medical experiments were conducted in many camps and on a wide scale. The Nazis deliberately destroyed the records of these activities, hence the research which is being done today is based on the surviving remnants of the documentary evidence, the statements made by the organisers of these experiments, the testimonials given by victims and their medical examinations.
The chief aim of this article is to consider the medical, ethical, moral, and legal aspects which come to light in the context of publications on pseudo‑medical experiments, and to differentiate between the criteria defining pseudo‑medical experiments from those which define therapeutic experiments.
Children at a German Nazi concentration camp
According to the legal definition, a biological experiment carried out on a human being consists in “planned actions which bear an influence on the human body, undertaken in order to obtain empirical verification of theoretical hypotheses or to discover laws of nature which hitherto have been either completely unknown or insufficiently known” (Sawicki, 1966). One of the types of biological experiments carried out on humans are those which are done to increase the number of individuals who are to learn the already known laws or methods. Biological experiments on humans should be distinguished from therapeutic (medical) experiments, in which what the doctor does is, to a certain extent, in the immediate interest of the patient or “experimental subject,” as such patients have come to be called. On the other hand, a person subjected to a biological experiment receives no benefit from it in respect of his or her health, all that matters is the experimenter’s scientific interest.
Experimental methods were first introduced in research on inanimate nature, in disciplines such as mechanics, physics, and chemistry, but not until the 17th century in the biological sciences. However, biological experiments on human subjects were widespread already by the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries. By that time many physicians who wanted to test a hypothesis on the infectiousness of a particular disease were deliberately infecting healthy individuals with it. Experiments were conducted in which humans were infected with syphilis (Wallace, Walter, Lindwurm et al.), typhus, and gonorrhoea. Children were given earthworm embryos in their food (Epstein, Grassi, and Calandruci), and they were also infected with scarlet fever. Bartolo applied an electric current to the brain of a woman whose occipital lobe was exposed due to skull cancer. The patient died.
In 1902 Moll admonished the world’s physicians to steer clear of such practices, citing some thousand cases of experiments carried out on humans and officially published in scientific books and journals. Nonetheless the experiments continued, involving whooping cough, beriberi, bubonic plague, leprosy, pellagra, malaria, and polio. They were carried out mostly on prisoners, convicts sentenced to death, the incurably ill, children, the mentally ill, and the natives of colonial countries.
Despite protests by many people and appeals to morality, the legal issues associated with the phenomenon were never addressed. A conspiracy of silence persisted right until the end of the Second World War.
Auschwitz
The basic aim of the biological experiments conducted here was to find the fastest, cheapest and most efficient method of sterilisation, in order to wipe out whole nations.
Thus the term “negative demography” did not just mean sterilisation but also included other depopulation methods and activities. The infamous sterilisation experiments conducted by Clauberg were done on specially selected women between the ages of 20 and 40 who had given birth and had not stopped menstruating in the camp (Fejkiel, 1957). After a detailed medical interview victims selected for the experiment were made to sit in a gynaecology chair. A radiological contrast medium was injected into their Fallopian tubes which were then X‑rayed to test for patency. On verification of patency victims were told to run around the room for a while, and then they were X‑rayed again while a special liquid, most probably a solution of formalin, was injected into their Fallopian tubes. The experiment was repeated 3 to 6 times on the same women at intervals of 3 to 4 weeks. The injected substance was expected to block the Fallopian tubes after 6 weeks of all the women subjected to it, which was to be confirmed in a check‑up examination carried out again with the use of a contrast agent. In the next stage of the experiment, which was planned but never accomplished, after a year the victims were to have intercourse with male prisoners to test the effectiveness of this method of sterilisation practically. Victims of the experiment fell ill with inflammation of various parts of the reproductive organs. The exact number is not known, but has been estimated in the hundreds. When the Auschwitz camp was dismantled victims of this experiment were transferred to Ravensbrück, where the experiments continued.
Dr. Josef Mengele, nicknamed The Angel of Death
Sterilisations were also done using 5–15 minute X‑ray sessions of women’s reproductive organs. Many women died after these irradiations. Those who survived were subjected after three months to two check‑up operations, in which their ovaries were successively removed and examined. Male victims had one testicle X‑rayed and were castrated after a month. The aftereffects of these experiments were not only infertility and castration, but also complications such as burns and abscesses, especially in the abdominal wall and reproductive organs. These experiments were conducted on a mass scale. There were also attempts to artificially inseminate women, which were conducted in association with sterilisation experiments.
Cancer research projects were done involving the removal of large parts of women prisoners’ cervices. A specially constructed intravaginal camera was used during these experiments, causing pain and exhausting the victim (Sehn, 1946).
Women had cancer tissue implanted in the uterus for experimental purposes (Grzywo‑Dąbrowska and Grzywo‑Dąbrowski, 1946). A variety of surgical operations was carried out on no medical indications at all, just for practice, in other words for no experimental purpose either. For instance, limb amputations were done on patients suffering from ulcers. Other operations done on no grounds were laparotomies, hernia operations, the extraction of nerves, muscles, and bones. Labour was induced in pregnant women for no reason.
The changes occurring in various organs were observed for diverse diseases, including starvation sickness (Kowalczykowa, 1948). Victims were photographed, then they were killed with a phenol injection and their liver, spleen and pancreas extracted and preserved.
Experiments were conducted involving infectious diseases such as typhus, tuberculosis, malaria, and phlegmon (Fejkiel, 1955). Healthy individuals were artificially infected with injections of the blood of persons suffering from typhus. The blood was taken at various stages of the disease to determine the incubation period and to discover at which point a patient’s blood is most infectious. There were also determinations of the quarantine time needed following typhus. Also certain unspecified anti‑typhus vaccines were tested.
In other biological experiments the aim was to determine the sulphonamides and salicylates in the blood and how the body reacted to an injection of a malaria sufferer’s blood. Blood group determinations were carried out and blood components were determined on the basis of saliva tests.
A dwarf family on their arrival at Auschwitz became a subject for Dr. Mengele’s “research interests.” Nearly all of them died.
Documents relating to the pharmacological experiments show that experiments involving eleudron and sulphapyridine which had been started in Dachau continued in Auschwitz. There were also large‑scale experiments with the use of substances called Be‑1032, Be‑1034, 3582, rutenol and periston. These drugs were tested for a variety of infectious diseases, chiefly typhus, tuberculosis, and phlegmon, on subjects who were specially infected for the experiment. Many of the individuals subjected to these mass experiments died, and many developed painful diarrhoea, nausea, vomiting, blackouts, and circulatory disorders. A group of 150 women all died following a test in which an unknown sleeping drug was administered to them. Another notorious type of experiment involved the application of narcotics, the purpose of which was probably to make subjects disclose information. An injection containing the drug (mescaline perhaps?) was administered, and the victim’s reactions were scrupulously observed. After about 15 minutes victims were led out for half an hour’s physical exercise, followed by an interrogation in which they were asked a variety of questions. The reactions to the drug which were recorded included disruption of consciousness, loss of sense of direction, and somnolence (Kłodziński, 1965).
Dr. Mengele was interested especially in twins and dwarfs for his criminal “scientific research”
Still other experiments included the administration of acrichine to induce jaundice, the making of plaster casts of women’s sex organs, the application of electric shocks and other pseudo‑medical experiments on which there have been relatively few publications so far.
The horrifying facts revealed during the Nazi doctors’ trial in the American Military Tribunal in Nuremberg in 1947 (Mikulski, 1967) and the Japanese doctors’ trial in the Soviet Military Tribunal at Khabarovsk (1949) shocked world opinion. Vast numbers of victims, mercilessness, cruelty and criminality motivated by the lowest impulses — such were the lengths to which the experimenters went.
Ravensbrück
Biological experiments were carried out on human guinea pigs, chiefly Polish women, but also women of other nationalities, including mentally ill women (Klimek, 1968). Experimental operations were done only on healthy, well‑built young women who were political prisoners. Most of them were subjected to several operations, some even as many as six times. The following types of biological experiments were conducted:
Operations done to examine the effects of surgical infections (by pus‑forming microorganisms, usually Staphylococcus aureus, malignant oedema, gas gangrene, or tetanus germs) injected into the calf muscles or inserted into an open wound. The experiments were done to test the therapeutic properties of sulphonamide drugs and other medications, which were put into the infected wound. The blood vessels at both ends of the wound were constricted to prevent blood flow, which was to simulate the prevalent conditions in battlefield wounds. This was also why the infection was aggravated by having broken glass, sawdust, and pieces of fabric rubbed into the wound.
Aseptic bone, muscle and neural operations. Their aim was to observe cell regeneration. Three types of bone operation were practised: fractures (the lower leg bones were surgically exposed, broken, and set together using clamps, the wound was sewn up and the leg put in plaster); bone transplants (the left tibia was transplanted into the right tibia and vice versa, or the fibula was transplanted into the tibia); and an operation called Knochenspäne, involving an incision to obtain a bone chip, which would then be removed in a second operation, along with a piece of the bone it was in. Muscle surgery entailed the multiple excision of progressively larger pieces of thigh and lower leg muscle in a series of operations. Neural operations involved the extraction of some of the nerves in the lower leg.
Pseudo-medical experiments
At first these operations were performed in operating theatres in aseptic conditions. Later, when the women started to resist, operations were done forcibly. SS‑men gagged victims’ mouths and held their legs down, and the operations were carried out in dreadfully unhygienic conditions, on wooden boards in a bunker. Victims were operated in their clothes and did not even have their legs washed.
It has been estimated that out of the large number of Polish women who were victims of these experiments 3.5% died during the operation and 4% were later shot. Fortunately 84% managed to survive; around 90% of the Polish victims returned home, but some died shortly afterwards due to causes resulting directly from these operations.
One Ukrainian woman was used in a strange experiment which gave her no chance of survival at all. Her shoulder blade was removed and transplanted into a young man who had had a shoulder joint with a tumour amputated. A group of ten mentally ill women prisoners had one of their legs amputated at the hip joint, or an arm and shoulder blade amputated. These women were all killed on the operating table with an injection containing a lethal dose of evipan (Klimek, 1968).
Many other completely unwarranted operations were carried out on human guinea pigs apart from these biological experiments, for instance resections of the stomach or removal of the thyroid gland. They were meant to advance the camp physicians’ practical experience (testimony given by S. Salvesen). We know of cases of epileptics having the adrenal glands removed, and these glands being subsequently transplanted into bronchial asthmatics. Women were sterilised by having the middle part or the whole of their ovaries removed. These operations were done on mentally ill German women and young Roma women, some of them 8 to 12‑year‑old girls. Later X‑ray check‑ups were done by introducing a contrast agent into the uterus without the application of an anaesthetic. Many women died as a result of such experiments (Półtawska, 1962, 1963).
Pseudo-medical experiments
Other types of experiments included malaria experiments and enemas done on typhus sufferers with the use of pregnant women’s urine. This was carried out on about 30 women, with no change at all (neither an improvement nor a deterioration) being observed (testimony given by Dr. Percival Trejte).
The extreme attitude adopted by German doctors on biological experiments was an outcome of the Nazi principle that doctors had an absolute right to conduct experiments on prisoners whenever such experiments were justified by scientific or national interests. Hence they were permitted to carry out experiments without the subject’s consent, and even against his or her will, since according to Nazi law doctors’ first duty was to their country.
In 1947, after the verdict was handed down at the Nuremberg trial the West German Bundesärztekammer Medical Association passed a resolution which said the following: “Alongside world opinion, German doctors have reacted with horror to the incidents which were the subject of the Nuremberg doctors’ trial. The general community of German medical practitioners expresses its grief and sorrow for the victims of a tyranny which attempted to make use of the achievements of science and found henchmen ready to work for it in this field. German physicians are full of sadness particularly because of the fact that the individuals who perpetrated these crimes which have aroused repugnance worldwide came from their own ranks” (Sehn, 1958). The German Medical Association has published a book entitled Wissenschaft ohne Menschlichkeit. Medizinische und eugenische Irrwege unter Diktatur, Bürokratie und Krieg [Medicine bereft of humanness: misguided paths in medicine and eugenics under dictatorship, bureaucracy, and war] (Mitscherlich and Mielke, 1949).
Dachau
The predominant type of pseudo‑medical experiments carried out at Dachau were experiments for the Luftwaffe, such as low pressure and low temperature experiments and observations of the effects of seawater on the human body (Musioł, 1968).
An airtight chamber was used to observe the human body’s reaction to high and low pressure. From five to fifteen prisoners were locked in the chamber and subjected to a gradual or sudden change in the air pressure, which would be either increased or decreased. Under low pressure conditions disturbed behaviours were observed. Prisoners would tear out their hair, scratch their faces with their nails, beat their heads against the wall, or howl until they became unconscious. When the pressure was increased prisoners were observed to undergo profound disturbances of consciousness. They would remain in this state for a while, until they finally collapsed. Ultimately a haemorrhage into the lungs ensued, leading to an agonal (near‑death) condition. Those who survived the experiment suffered from severe shock and mental disorders due to cerebral haemorrhage. Autopsies were carried out on the victims, some of whom were still alive. Samples were removed from their brains, necks, lungs, sympathetic nervous system, liver, heart muscles, kidneys, and muscles from their limbs. This material was then conserved. About 25% of the victims died, but this figure does not include deaths which occurred later and were caused by the aftereffects of the experiment.
The aim of experiments in which the effects of low temperatures on the human body were examined was to find a way to warm up airmen who had been shot down into the sea, and to design clothing for airmen. About 20% of the victims of these experiments died. They were immersed in a tub of cold water, either naked or in an airman’s suit, with or without the administration of an anaesthetic. Lumps of ice would be put into the water to keep the temperature low. After some time victims lost consciousness, but were kept from drowning by a lifebuoy. A cable thermometer inserted into the victim’s anus or stomach recorded internal body temperature, and special instruments monitored the heart and other organs. Blood samples were taken from the victim’s veins and neck arteries and temperature was measured at regular intervals. The experiment would last for anything up to 36 hours, or even more. The lowest internal temperature recorded shortly before the victim died was 19°C (66.2°F). Whenever a victim was about to lose consciousness or was on the verge of absolute exhaustion an injection of fortifying drugs would be administered. Death ensued when the temperature in the brain (the myelencephalon and rhombencephalon) fell to 28°C (82.4°F), after which a post mortem was carried out.
Low‑temperature experiments were also carried out in atmospheric conditions. Prisoners were kept outside naked for 15 hours at temperatures of −25°C (−11°F). Every hour they were doused down with cold water and their temperature was taken. These were the cruellest experiments conducted in Dachau, and most of the victims died.
In low‑temperature biological experiments it was possible to try to save a prisoner’s life by a fast re‑warming process. A variety of methods were applied: rubbing his body mechanically, warming him in the sun or with the use of an infrared lamp, by diathermy, or hot water. A method that aroused a particular amount of interest was the so‑called “animal warmth” (animalische Wärme in German) method. There were eight cases of women prisoners from Ravensbrück being used for this method. It turned out that one woman could restore the life functions back to a frozen body by sexual intercourse faster than two, perhaps because on her own it was easier not to feel inhibited. However, the process still took a long time. Only those individuals whose physical condition allowed them to have sexual intercourse were warmed up exceptionally fast and recovered their normal condition.
German Nazi doctors conducting pseudo-medical experiments
A set of experiments to test the practicality of seawater for drinking was conducted on a group of Roma men. They were confined in a room and fed well for three days, after which they were starved for seven days. They were divided into five groups. Two groups were given pure seawater, two groups were given seawater with a saline solution added to it, and one group was given distilled seawater with no additives. Each of the participants in the experiment had to drink half a litre of seawater a day. Blood, urine, faeces, and saliva samples were taken every day. The effects of the experiment were very severe, but none of the victims died.
The aim of the malaria experiments was to find a substance which would make the human body resistant to malaria germs. Anopheles maculipennis mosquitos were bred in special cages and fed on flies. Mosquitos were applied on a piece of gauze to victims’ forearms or thighs to bite and infect them with the disease, though a few victims were infected by a subcutaneous injection of sporozoites obtained from the salivary glands of infected mosquitos, or by an intravenous injection of blood from a human suffering from malaria. Sometimes a combined method of infection was employed, using mixed malaria parasites injected subcutaneously with the blood of carriers of various strains (Stammträger). 69 different strains of malaria, and many more methods of infection were tested. Quinine, and neosalvarsan were tested as treatments. Over 2,000 victims, chiefly Polish Roman Catholic priests, were infected with the disease, and about 450 of them died, many of them due to the toxic effects of antipyrine and pyramidon, which were administered to bring down fever, and of salvarsan, which caused acute yellow atrophy of the liver.
Another type of experiment carried out concerned phlegmon. Victims were injected subcutaneously, intravenously or intramuscularly with pus extracted from sick prisoners’ abscesses or ulcers, or from cadavers. Many of the victims of these experiments died due to disseminated infection. Others developed abscesses on their entire body. It was very rare for a victim not to be infected at all. Prisoners with phlegmonous nidi received surgical treatment (abscesses were incised and drained; often victims had both arms and legs amputated, a kidney operation, a skull trepanation etc.), or had pharmacological treatment. When victims were treated with sulphonamides healing was delayed, and muscular, cardiac, hepatic, renal and pulmonary dystrophy would be observed in post mortems. There were many cases of victims vomiting blood or having diarrhoea with blood, duodenal ulcers, inflammation of the kidneys or jaundice due to treatment with a variety of other medications.
There were other experiments connected with jaundice. About 170 prisoners suffering from liver and gallbladder conditions and healthy prisoners had liver biopsies done several times a day, which led to perforations of the stomach and intestines, and liver damage. The victims were operated.
Experimental methods were used to treat prisoners suffering from tuberculosis. They were given calcium, codeine, pneumothorax treatment and other surgery. Some of them were kept in bed with no medications or additional food. Others received homeopathic treatment, and the remaining tuberculosis sufferers were told to take exercise, walks, and cold baths. Another treatment that was applied was a special method of breathing. The number of prisoners subjected to these experiments is not known, but we do know that they were sent to the Hartheim gas chambers.
Haematology tests were made with a substance called polygal‑10 which was supposed to increase blood coagulation. Many prisoners paid with their lives for such experiments: not only were they blood donors, but they were shot solely for the purpose of allowing Nazi doctors to observe the effects of the medication.
Surgery such as operations on the stomach, gallbladder, appendix, hernias, kidneys, lungs, thyroid, urinary tract, and nervous system, was conducted in cases where there were absolutely no medical indications for such procedures, and with the use of a variety of methods. Some victims had limbs amputated, and blood vessels from them were transplanted into other victims. Several sterilisations were performed, but we have no further data on them. The total number of prisoners involved in experiments is estimated at 5,485, out of which 2,073 died (Musioł, 1968). These figures are incomplete, as we do not have data on all the experiments.
While admitting the possibility of medical experimentation on humans for the purpose of scientific progress, the American Military Tribunal appended its verdict with a ten‑point code of principles which should be observed to avoid violations of the fundamental moral, ethical, and law‑abiding concepts (From Trials of War Criminals). The Nuremberg Code is as follows:
The voluntary consent of the human subject is absolutely essential. This means that the persons involved should have legal capacity to give consent; should be so situated as to be able to exercise free power of choice, without the intervention of any element of force, fraud, deceit, duress, over‑reaching, or other ulterior form of constraint or coercion; and should have sufficient knowledge and comprehension of the elements of the subject matter involved as to enable them to make an understanding and enlightened decision. This latter element requires that before the acceptance of an affirmative decision by the experimental subjects there should be made known to them the nature, duration, and purpose of the experiment; the method and means by which it is to be conducted; all inconveniences and hazards reasonable to be expected; and the effects upon their health or persons which may possibly come from their participation in the experiment. The duty and responsibility for ascertaining the quality of the consent rests upon each individual who initiates, directs or engages in the experiment. It is a personal duty and responsibility which may not be delegated to another with impunity.
The experiment should be such as to yield fruitful results for the good of society, unprocurable by other methods or means of study, and not random and unnecessary in nature.
The experiment should be so designed and based on the results of animal experimentation and a knowledge of the natural history of the disease or other problem under study that the anticipated results will justify the performance of the experiment.
The experiment should be so conducted as to avoid all unnecessary physical and mental suffering and injury.
No experiment should be conducted where there is a prior reason to believe that death or disabling injury will occur; except, perhaps, in those experiments where the experimental physicians also serve as subjects.
The degree of risk to be taken should never exceed that determined by the humanitarian importance of the problem to be solved by the experiment.
Proper preparations should be made and adequate facilities provided to protect the experimental subject against even remote possibilities of injury, disability, or death.
The experiment should be conducted only by scientifically qualified persons. The highest degree of skill and care should be required through all stages of the experiment of those who conduct or engage in the experiment.
\9. During the course of the experiment the human subject should be at liberty to bring the experiment to an end if he or she has reached the physical or mental state where continuation of the experiment seems to him or her be impossible.

1. During the course of the experiment the scientist in charge must be prepared to terminate the experiment at any stage, if there is any probable cause to believe, in the exercise of the good faith, superior skill and careful judgment required that a continuation of the experiment is likely to result in injury, disability, or death to the experimental subject. ......

,,,,,,,,Hitherto (1973) no country has compiled an integrated set of ethical and legal principles to regulate the issue of medical experimentation on human subjects. Many theoreticians who refer to the old traditions of French medicine are of the opinion that the principles of medical ethics rule out the possibility of experimentation merely for the benefit of science if this were to entail any harm whatsoever for humans. Hence from the legal point of view they see biological experiments as criminal acts regardless of whether or not consent has been obtained from the subject of the experiment.

But a resolution adopted in Paris on 25th November 1952 by the French Académie Nationale de Medicine offers another solution to the problem. It admits experimentation on voluntary, informed human subjects. The draft of a code of practice for biological and medical experimentation on human subjects presented at the 14th Assembly of the World Health Organisation in 1960 admits them on certain conditions. The WHO draft differs from the Nuremberg Code. Nevertheless many people are of the opinion that a physician has the right to embark on a high‑risk experiment on a patient if all other means and resources known to medical practice have failed and there is a prospect of the experiment saving the patient’s life, even at the cost of risking a permanent disability (Fejkiel, 1959).
In this complex set of problems a precise delineation of what is meant by “medical experiment” is a fundamental issue, allowing for the exclusion of Hitler’s “euthanasia programme” from its confines. By very definition the Nazi euthanasia project was not a medical experiment, nor even a pseudo‑medical experiment, but simply the mass murder of the elderly, disabled children, mental patients and the incurably ill by the use of a lethal injection, poison gases and other methods of collective slaughter. In its proper sense “euthanasia” means “the painless termination of the life of a sick person who is suffering without hope of recovery, on that person’s demand” (Ossowska, 1970).
Something that was just plain killing has been given an inadequate name.
The issue of medical experimentation lies on the border between ethics and law. This fact has been impeding the attempts made hitherto to resolve the problem from the legal point of view, and the impediment is the outcome of a lack of awareness that ethics has to go further than the law. Ethics comprises the entirety of moral assessments and standards held at any given time by a particular society. However, the medical ethics grounded on the Hippocratic humanist foundations of medicine has transcended the barriers of time and societies, becoming a timeless legacy of the whole of humankind. Thereby it has also transcended the realm of law, since the demarcation of bounds to the concept of morality is itself a moral issue.
No law, nor any regulation will be of service to a physician who is obliged to make an independent decision, to the best of available knowledge and in compliance with his or her conscience. “An official legislative regulation on such delicate matters would neither stop the physicians from abusing their rights, nor keep the patient from misconstruing the medical practitioner’s rights. For on the one hand the physicians could disregard the matter, disdaining the voice of their conscience under the protection afforded them by the law; and on the other hand the patients would never be able to tell the difference between physicians attending them in their capacity as practitioners of medicine, and physicians coming to administer torture” (Frankl, 1971).
With these ethical principles as guidelines, all physicians will know that they have the full moral right to medical experimentation, while biological experimentation on humans is unlawful and may be conducted only on animals. For “the real danger lies in the fact that whoever embarks on experimentation on human subjects does not know where it will stop” (C. Nicolle).
Translated from original article: Jakubik A., Ryn Z. “Eksperymenty pseudomedyczne w hitlerowskich obozach koncentracyjnych.” Przegląd Lekarski – Oświęcim. 1973.

This is my first time posting something, so apologies if I’m doing something wrong.
Me and my friends are all the middle/high school age range. The oldest is me, and the youngest is in the same grade, but about a year younger. All names are fake.
My friend group consists of me, my (former) best friend Rowan (youngest, he/they), Leo (2nd oldest, he/him), and Star (2nd youngest, she/they). Rowan and I have been really close for 3 years. Rowan and Liam are dating, though it’s not very serious (casual even by our age’s dating standards). Up until a few months ago, we were still getting along pretty well. Earlier this year, we started hanging out with two other kids in our homeroom and in my afternoon classes. These kids are Matilda (she/her) and Mavis (she/her). Matilda doesn’t have a lot of friends, so she recently started eating lunch with us, but Mavis still sits with her friends. Halfway through the year, Rowan transferred into my afternoon class, and got closer with Mavis.
Starting a few months ago, Leo started eating in his ELA teacher’s room to work on schoolwork from her class. Sometimes he would come outside to meet us later, sometimes not. After a few weeks of this, Rowan started joining Leo, partially because Rowan has been sick a lot recently and missed schoolwork, partially so he could eat with Leo. After this happened, they stopped coming down to join us outside. So lunch was just me, Matilda, and Star. Around this same time I noticed Rowan becoming ruder than he was before. The two incidents I recall are as follows: 1. In our Spanish class with Matilda, Rowan, and Leo, we were watching a movie. The desks in the classroom were rearranged in a way that made it hard to walk through the rows. So, the table at the back had seats reserved for a kid in our class whose in a wheelchair, and another kid who is on crutches, plus both of these kids chosen assistants (our school has this weird half-floor that requires two different elevators to reach if you can’t use the stairs, so kids bring people to help them). One of these assistants was Leo. Day one of the movie, nothing happened. Day 2, and the name tags were gone (were not the only class, so OF COURSE they were gone), and Rowan decided that that meant he could sit there. Another kid sat in the wrong spot, and now that table is full. I mentioned to him that he probably shouldn’t sit there since it’s crutches kid’s spot, but he basically said “there’s no name tag, it’s probably fine”. Anyway, the kid on crutches and his assistant come in late (as usual, the elevator system takes a while) and there’s nowhere for them to sit next to each other (which they’re supposed to be) after the kid on crutches awkwardly shuffles around the first table to get to the second (where I am) I realized he needed to sit next to his assistant. Since there was an open chair next me, I offered to move. He and assistant thanked me, and I moved up a row. The next day Rowan sat in the same spot, and when I mentioned what had happened the day before, he essentially said he didn’t care and was still going to sit next to Leo.

1. Our homeroom classroom has this problem where if you lean on these wires connected to the radiator, it can fuck with the heating and turn the classroom into a sauna. It happened earlier this year, and while we were waiting for it to be fixed, it was Hell. In the middle of winter with the windows open, even in shorts and tank tops, it was still hot enough in that room to make you sweat. Apparently, one of the adults would have to come early to open the door so the room could cool a little, and he almost burned his hand on the metal doorknob. Anyway, me and Rowan were talking with Matilda about this and were accidentally leaning on the wires. Matilda noticed and reminded us, and I immediately moved. Rowan didn’t though, and said “huh? Why?” We explained since he didn’t remember that the wiring cause the heat, and he said “it’s probably fine. It doesn’t really matter”. And still wouldn’t move until I guess he got annoyed at us insisting he move.

After about a week of eating with Leo, i noticed Rowan was mainly talking with Mavis now. He and her would actually leave our table to go talk in other parts of the room. And even when they sat at our table, it felt like he made no effort to have conversations with me. I would talk to him, and he would respond quickly, and then go back to talking with Mavis. He also started talking with Mavis and Matilda all the time in our afternoon class, leaving me to talk to other kids I barely knew. Lunch became awkward because me and Star share a bunch of interests, and have become pretty close recently, and Matilda doesn’t share a lot of interests with us, so we didn’t have a ton to talk about. I think Matilda was feeling a little left out, which is completely fair. She told me she was going to start eating inside with Leo and Rowan, but she would still eat with me that day since Star wasn’t there, and she didn’t want me to be alone. I was grateful for Matilda thinking of me, and I don’t blame her at all for any of this. So me and Star started eating lunch together alone. Star is part of a student committee that is planning the school dance, so whenever they had meetings she would bring me along so I wasn’t alone. Unfortunately, Star isn’t here every day. She’s missed two days of school since this started happening, on of them being yesterday. Both days I ate lunch alone. Mavis sometimes eats in the library with her friends and most of the other kids I know I know through Star. Yesterday I sat on the ground outside and texted my mom because I had no one else to talk to. I’ve brought this up to Star before, but we both didn’t really think it was big issue, we figured that maybe me and Rowan just aren’t as close anymore, or maybe he’s been in a mad mood because he’s been sick on and off for a while.
But today was kind of a turning point, because Leo’s teacher wasn’t letting kids eat in her classroom today. We all sit at the same table in Spanish, and they were just taking around like “where should we eat today? Maybe the library? Or ____’s room?”. I just kind of ignored it, since at this point I guess in just used to them talking around me. Anyway, I guess their plans fell through, because when Star and I were eating lunch I saw them in the cafeteria. They walked right past us to sit at a table with Mavis and her friends (who were down here today) and two of Star’s friends from the committee who Leo and Rowan don’t really know that well. Well, towards the end of lunch, Star noticed them and was really confused. Eventually she said “should I go say something?” And I said “maybe? I don’t know at this point.” She went up to them and said, “oh, I didn’t know you guys were friends with [committee friend].” Leo kinda brushed her off and said “oh yeah, she kept calling me by the nickname she gave me, haha”. Rowan didn’t say anything at all. I met her outside and she was like “what the fuck? Are they mad at us? What’s going on?” We talked about it a lot, and I remember her saying “I don’t wanna only have one friend” and I almost wanted to cry because I’ve evening feeling like that for weeks, and I don’t what’s going on. I don’t know what I did or Rowan’s mad at me of what. We brought it up to this kid Alvin (he/him, Matilda’s twin) who likes to gossip with Star about random annoying things, and he said it seemed weird. (Well, actually he said “I’m gonna jump them” but that’s just what Alvin is like, he was fully joking). In our math class, Star was talking to Leo (they were in a group together) and she told me that his phone background is different. It used to be a photo of all four of us (me, Star, Leo, and Rowan) but now it’s a photo of him, Rowan, Mavis, and another kid from Leo’s class. I feel like I’ve been replaced and I don’t know what to do. Am I crazy? Is this not actually a big deal? Had this happened to anyone before? I don’t know what I should do to fix our friendship, especially because neither Leo or Rowan have said anything, so I don’t know WHY. Any advice?

This popped up on my app for some reason and I thought it deserved to be reshared. It was originally posted by u/ daydreamingawaytoo over two years ago but is still very applicable.
www.reddit.com/fundiesnarkiesnark/s/Y8rhtetsoW
Why I Snark
People ask me why I snark. Let me tell you, it’s not for the faint of heart. It takes a special kind of soul, someone with real grit and a fluency in sarcasm, interpreting body language, and sleuthing skills. My kids will say, “Mom, I’m hungry, can you please stop making Duggar FaceSwap edits?” My husband will sometimes tell me, “Oh my god, I don’t know any of these people, CAN WE TALK ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE” when I tell him all about Jill Rodrigues overstaying her welcome at Nurie’s. And oh, I’ve seen some eyerolls when I suggested our family take the trek up to Arkansas so we can drive past the Duggar house (for research purposes, of course) so I can snap a picture of the TTH. Maybe they would even see our coexist bumper sticker and reevaluate their ways!
But nevertheless, through all of the judgement and small-mindedness, I persist. Why? Because someone has to do it. Someone has to wake the public up to the absolute HORROR SHOW that are fundies. What I do, I do for the good of the world. When Joy Duggar posts a photo of her son playing barefoot in the backyard, I get a frozen chill in my chest that radiates through my entire body. What if he stepped on a pine cone? What if he accidentally ate dirt? What if the earth swallowed him up whole? If I’m not reminding these brain dead idiots that they are terrible parents, who will? I have the authority. My kids, Soleil, Jude Bader-Ginsburg, and Organica have never tasted cream, sugar, dairy, or gluten. They have never played outside. They don’t even know what a “hairbow” is. I’m not looking for praise, I’m just saying I could easily do the mommy influencer thing if I wanted. Instead, I actually choose to spend my time working and fighting for a cause. It’s called morals, something fundies lack.
It’s almost a full time job reminding these fundie women that they are not as hot as they think they are. Women are not defined by their looks. But let me just say, as a 47 year woman who is naturally thin with no wrinkles and who often gets mistaken for a 19 year old, I know a thing or to about style and looks. Because I don’t agree with their beliefs, they are fair game and not protected by feminism. It’s just the rules. And as a #girlboss, this extends to children too. Whatever it takes to wake these people up. If Feliciteeeeeeee wants me to stop calling her names, maybe she should GET EMANCIPATED and write a dissertation on why LGBT rights are human rights. My son was quoting Gloria Steinem at 8 months old, there are no excuses.
Snarking for the greater good isn’t just about the hilarious witty and clever nicknames, or obsessively following Instagram pages. It’s also a community. It’s a place where a bunch of likeminded souls can spend hours analyzing a smile, using our gifts as empaths to get to the real feelings behind what less evolved people would see as a “normal family picture”. Its the primal rage we all feel when we see someone smiling with their mouth open. It’s going to the grocery store, seeing a jar of pickles, and quickly snapping a pic with a chuckle because you know your fellow snarkers will have a laugh. Its the mutual horror we all feel whenever someone eats a cream based soup. It’s sending Karissa $100 so she knows her baby names are fucking stupid. Sometimes I sit back and think, “This is what it must have felt like at Stonewall”
I’m not an Avenger. I’m certainly not a saint. I don’t wear a cape, but I do wear my heart on my sleeve. Im a proud atheist, liberal, feminist, purple haired “devils grass” smoking “heathen.” My very existence is political. The fundies would hate me and run away screaming when they see me, a WOMAN, showing knees and shoulders, unshaven legs, tattoos, purple hair, and piercings. What about my shirt, that says “Well Behaved Women Rarely Make History?” Yeah, Boob would probably faint on the spot.
I’m a snarker, which means I wear many hats: expert on fundamentalism and religion, psychiatrist, social worker, medical doctor, body language expert, lawyer, judge, jury, parenting expert, stylist, interior decorator, nutritionist, expert chef, private investigator, activist....and warrior.

thisiswhyisnark

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Plaunsollib

Six Whiskers Mgnats looked nervously down the bridge of the missile escort ship numbered 7633 with his bloodshot red eyes.
He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since they left port in Gruccud, and he knew he would not until they got to Datsot. In less than a month, this route from Gruccud to Datsot had gone from a safe escort posting assigned to unambitious captain to being nicknamed the Highway of Death. The loss rate on this route was astronomical, some of the highest ever in Znosian history: three in five convoys did not make it to the destination. Worse, there were never any survivors; if a convoy was hit, it was good as dead.
Plaunsollib was the last system on this route, the final sector before Datsot, but that was no excuse to relax: Mgnats knew that another convoy had been hit in this exact system just last week. All eight escort ships and the precious supplies carried by the twelve supply ships they were guarding were destroyed. Technically, they had gone missing, as no wreck nor lifepod was ever found, but the logistics officer in charge of the route had taken full responsibility. It didn’t take too many whiskers for everyone else to add two and two together.
He just hoped that the newly implemented automatic self-destruct on the supply ships had activated before Lesser Predators got their hands on it. Such systems were always so unreliable and inconvenient, but on the Highway of Death, they had become a necessary evil.
Mgnats watched on the console as his reconnaissance drones mapped out every planetary body larger than his ship in the system. Every nook and cranny. It took a while, but like the precautions for the supply ships, these too were a necessary evil. They only had a few echoes, hints really, of how the enemy was now operating, but from what little they knew, hiding behind solid objects was a clear favorite.
“We’ve scanned the entire system, Six Whiskers. We should be good to go,” his sensor officer reported.
Mgnats nodded. Leaving the safety of the blink limit and entering the gravity well was where it always went wrong, but he had no choice. They had to get to the other side, and then, to Datsot.
“Take us in,” he ordered. “Let’s take the fastest route, shall we?”
The navigation officer nodded. Normally, this kind of orbital transfer problem would be a theoretical exercise, one found on a career training test, but there was nothing academic about the risk they had to minimize here. The path they took would take them deep into the system, using the gravity of the star to decrease their travel time to the other side. Hopefully, they would be in and out before any of those nasty Lesser Predators from the Sixth Fleet showed their ugly faces.
Only a third into the route, Mgnats’ worst fears came true as the ship’s klaxon sounded. It was a new alarm sound, one recently programmed into the ship’s computers.
“Six Whiskers, we’ve lost FTL connection with both Datsot and Gruccud,” the computer officer reported with a shaky voice.
Since they started losing ships on this route, it didn’t take long to figure out that FTL malfunctions were somehow related to the appearance of the Lesser Predators. Which is why it had become protocol that all ships must maintain a steady connection with their originating and destination stations, to allow the ships and other stations to know immediately when this happened. And Mgnats always followed protocol.
Of course, the protocol didn’t mention what the captain should do once they learned of their impending doom.
Mgnats queried the Digital Guide.
The computer officer relayed the answer shortly. “We are only a third of the way through, but we are going far too fast to reverse now if they’re waiting somewhere in system. The fastest way is through, and if they got the same message on the other side at Datsot, they might send a patrol out for us on the other end.”
Mgnats nodded, hoping his crew did not pick up on his unbecoming anxiety. “Do—do— ahem… do as it says.”

ZNS 1841

“Ten Whiskers, we’ve lost connection to the latest supply convoy!”
Ditvish snapped his head up. “Where was its last known location?”
The computer officer, paws flying over her consoles, triple-checked before replying, “Plaunsollib, Ten Whiskers. They took the fastest path through. We lost their signal about a third of the way in.”
“Where is 2228 and the response force?” Ditvish demanded, his whiskers twitching in agitation.
“They’re on ready alert at the blink limit, Ten Whiskers.”
“Good, patch me through to Skvanu.”
“Already is, Ten Whiskers. We called him as soon as this happened,” the computer officer replied.
Ditvish gave a quick nod of thanks and activated the transmission on his console. “Eight Whiskers Skvanu, are you ready for your task?”
“I am. We have been running simulations on the combat computer for weeks. Despite the radical nature of our threat, I am confident in our ability to chase them down and defeat them. Or if we fail at that, we should be able to cripple their ability to continue these annoying raids.”
“Good, good. It looks like it’s going to be in Plaunsollib this time.”
“Yes, Ten Whiskers. This isn’t the first time the Lesser Predators have hit the system. Even with their new equipment, they are predictable as ever.”
“Don’t underestimate these predators, Skvanu. We were becoming predictable with our over-reliance on the combat computers too.”
“Got it, Ten Whiskers. They won’t know what hit them.”

MNS Oengro

“Squadron 1 to 3 all completed blink, ma’am,” Vastae reported with a hint of pride. “Sixty seconds this time.” What would have been an unthinkable post-blink record just two months ago had become now routine, thanks to the relentless drilling and exercises with their Terran allies.
“Good. We’ll beat the Grass Eaters’ record one day. Link up with the Nile. Let’s find out where our juicy bait is,” Grionc ordered.
The systems of the Oengro connected to the stealthy Terran ship lurking in the outer system, and as usual, detailed information about every entity in the system larger than her paw popped on their sensor screens. What had been magic just months ago was now considered standard.
“Looks like we’re right on time,” Grionc noted, her eyes fixed on the display showing the cluster of enemy ships. “Eight Forager-class missile destroyers escorting some juicy Bunny supplies, bound for Datsot.” Like most in her fleet, she’d gotten used to the Terran jargon. Much less confusing when talking to their allies.
“Which of the rehearsed plans are we going with, High Fleet Commander?” Vastae asked.
“The expected company still hasn’t arrived,” Grionc pondered out loud. “What do you think, Vastae?”
“The medium velocity pass,” Vastae decided after a brief calculation on his console. “That would give us more options. Two volleys if the tangos don’t show, one if they do.”
If this were a few months ago, she never would have thought to ask for his opinion. If he offered it without prompting, she might have given him the side-eye for overstepping his role. At the very least, she would have been annoyed at the breach in discipline.
Now, she merely felt unexplainable pride.
Grionc gave him a nod of approval. “Medium velocity pass it is,” she confirmed, giving him the credit for picking the option. “Take us in.”
“What do you think they’re thinking over there?” Vastae mused, his eyes narrowing at the enemies staying the course on his screen. “Acceptance of death? Hatching an escape plan? Maybe they aren’t up to date and think they can shoot their way out?”
“Good question. We did bring a smaller force than usual. Eight to only thirty-six. If I were over there, I would think I can maybe get a couple licks in,” Grionc replied, using the old-timey Terran expression.
Vastae tilted his head. “You think maybe they got another software update?” he asked. “Last time that happened was an annoying surprise.”
“Maybe, but there’s only so much you can do with those, even though they are getting worryingly good at seeing through our dazzlers on terminal. Four proximity hits on the last run. If they keep this up, we will start taking real losses. I keep telling Mark we should stick around to clean up those communication drones and lifepods so they can’t report back, but he didn’t seem that interested in doing that.”
“Weird, wasn’t that the top priority for our Grass Eater friends: their secrecy from the Buns?” Vastae asked in confusion.
Grionc shrugged. “It feels like something shady is going on, but then, with that man, there is always something shady going—”
A klaxon sounded on the bridge.
Vastae looked at his console. “Looks like additional guests have arrived.”
“How many? That was always going to be the variable here,” Grionc asked, her voice tense.
“That’s four, five squadrons. There’s the Thumper-class Battlecruiser. We have her marked as the 2228 led by the one known as Skvanu, as expected,” Vastae said, then continued, his eyes widening with each new signature on his console. “Wait, no, there’s still more blinking in— woah.”
Grionc checked her own console and let out a low whistle through her snout. “Woah is right. That… is… unexpected. It is time for what our new friends call… Plan B.”

MNS Trassau

Out in deep space ready to blink, Battlegroup Commander Loenda looked at her data-linked connection from the Nile and took a sharp breath. “What do you make of that, Gamma Leader?”
“That’s… twenty-five, twenty-six squadrons of the Znosian Navy’s finest, I’m guessing? Over three hundred ships,” Speinfoent reported, his heart pounding as he counted the number of enemy ships piling into Plaunsollib. They were light years away, but the danger felt real anyway. “This must be the combined forces of what they planned to hit us with if we had stood and defended Datsot.”
Loenda nodded, then calculated out loud. “Nine squadrons, plus the High Fleet Commander’s three, against twenty-five. With our Grass Eater upgrades, we might come out ahead. All we would have to do is blink in behind his forces like we planned…”
Speinfoent’s eyes almost bulged out of his skull. “Squadron Leader, I would heavily advise against—”
She snorted. “Relax, Gamma Leader. I’m senior, not senile. This is clearly far outside the parameters of our mission, enough to trigger the pre-arranged abort,” Loenda said to him like a grandmother would soothe a cub.
Speinfoent noted with some amusement in his head that she was throwing around Terran terminology like it was second nature, a departure from how she felt about them just a few weeks ago.
“Yes, Squadron Leader,” Speinfoent replied, his heart rate returning to normal. “Like we discussed, even if we abort the mission, forcing them to throw their weight around like this does waste even more of their now limited resources and strains their readiness.”
“Yeah, yeah, a lot of fancy prey talk. All our enemies gathered in one place and we’re not coming down on them. This is unnatural and you know it. The only reason I’m following it is because the high fleet commander trusts—”
“Hang on a second, what did you say?” Speinfoent paused, an idea surfacing in his head.
“I said: This. Is. Unnatural. And. You. Know. It,” Loenda repeated slowly.
“No, before that. All our enemies are gathered in one place.”
“Yes, and?”
“They’re all gathered here. Well, they’re not gathered here. They are gathered in Plaunsollib.”
Loenda took a serious look at him. “I know that look, Gamma Leader. You have an idea. But this isn’t an exercise. This is the real deal. We screw this up — spacers die, and we die. This is as real as it gets.”
Speinfoent matched her look. “Yes, but we won’t. Hear me out, and if what I say doesn’t make sense, you can shoot it down then. Not like we’re doing anything here in the meantime anyway, right?”

MNS Oengro

“Coming in range of the supply convoy in a couple hours. Should we call off the attack?” Vastae asked. “The size of this response fleet does call for a mission abort.”
“Yes, the main mission is a no-go, but we can still pick off the convoy on our way out,” Grionc replied, looking at the massive armada hot on their tail. “To be safe, let’s go in at an angle. Max combat burn at an escape vector. We’ll only be in range of the convoy long enough to fire off our magazines. Probably not enough time for a full volley reload before we pass them. But one volley of our new payload should be more than enough to wreck them… then we head out towards the blink limit on the other side before that fleet of doom intercepts us.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Vastae replied, agreeing with her judgement.
The communications officer suddenly sat up. “High Fleet Commander, urgent transmission from the Nile.”
“Put him through.”
The Terran commander of the Nile showed up on screen. He was in his casual jet-black combat fatigues, rather than encased in an EVA suit, so Grionc assumed that things were still going fine over there, wherever they were. “Captain Guerrero, is everything alright?”
“Affirmative, High Fleet Commander,” he replied respectfully, a line of sweat beads covering his forehead. “We are still in emissions control, just a few light minutes off your bow, but we should be fine to relay a few messages. Battlegroup Bravo has decided to abort the primary mission. They are a no-go for jumping in behind the enemy response fleet.”
“That’s what we expected, Captain,” she confirmed politely. “Continuing with the mission would have been… inadvisable.”
“What we didn’t expect is that Sphinx has an idea, and he has been working through it with us.”
“Sphinx?”
“Your young prodigy over there on the flagship of Battlegroup 2. I’m not sure how he got that callsign but—”
“Oh, I know exactly how he got that callsign,” Grionc grinned. “What is Speinfoent’s new improvised plan?”
Captain Guerrero started to explain. “There are a few elements involved, but for your part, we just want you to slow down a bit.”
Grionc balked, still keeping her eyes on the two dozen or so squadrons of enemy ships on her console. “Slow down a bit? You do see how many Grass Eater combat ships are on our tail, right?”
“You have a few hours of lead time on them. You should be fine. We have a new recommended course for you: take your time to destroy the supply convoy, and then leisurely make your way to the other side of the system.”
“Leisurely,” Grionc repeated, peering at the new, suggested course transmitted onto her console, which put her a lot closer to the enemy fleet trailing her than she wanted to be.
The Terran insisted. “Leisurely. At a comfortable pace. Without additional haste. Unhurried by—”
“I think your translator is working fine, Captain. What I am questioning is not the semantics, but rather the sanity of the plan. You did run this through your fancy thinking machine simulator, right?”
“A few gazillion times, yeah. I think you personally survive the battle at least a fifth of the time— hey, I’m kidding! You will be fine. The plan is solid.”
Previous
Chapter 51: Plan C

I compiled this list a while ago for my own enjoyment and just figured it could be fun to share it. This list will include any Pokemon I had on my teams long enough to either fight a gym with or face the Elite Four. Also, the nicknames I gave them.
-(Fire Red)
Charizard/HotSpot
Zaptos/Zoltz
Bellossom/Hancer
Kabutops/Pred
Hypno/Lear
Nidoking/Kahuna
Marowak/Mavrin
Butterfree/Squirmy
Pidgeot/Brownyn
-(XD Gale of Darkness)
Umbreon
Ursaring
Shiftry
Swalot
Glalie
Electabuzz
Shadow Lugia
-(Soul Silver)
Typhlosion/Taylon
Lugia/OceanLord
Pidgeot/SilverWing
Victreebell/Pod
Golem/Smash
Gyarados/RedSea
Ampharos/Shocker
KingleKingQueen
Togekiss/EggShell
(After this game, Typhlosion became my absolute favorite Pokemon. As such, young me always tried to make sure I transferred a Cyndaquil to my profile in any game I played. I effectively thought of Typhlosion as the Pikachu to my Ash.)
-(Diamond)
Typhlosion/Taylon
Infernape/Kong
StaraptoBloodwing
Luxray/Ankh
Roserade/Tango
Floatzel/Brazil
Machamp/Gor
-(White)
Typhlosion/Taylon
EmboaOolong
Stoutland/Bosco
Zekrom/StormCloud
Simisage/Banana
Musharna/Zzz
Sigilyph/Jar
Cofagrigus/Ben
Carracosta/Leonardo
Elektross/Tad
-(X)
Delphox/Kitsora
Lucario/Goku
Toxicroak/Herts
Gogoat/Firr
Tyrantrum/Runt
Golduck/G.Tide
-(Black 2)(I played this after playing X)
Typhlosion/Taylon
Smaurott
Arcanine
Unfezant
Leavanny/Bango
Lucario/Gohan
Flygon/Fandezma
-(Omega Ruby)
Typhlosion/Taylon
Sceptile/Blade
Mightyena/Chance
Shedinja/Ded
Manectric/Cert
PelippeJayla
Gallade/Deku
Cammerupt/Mojave
Latios/Jetking
-(Sun)(I don't remember why, but I decided to transfer a Bellsprout to bring back Pod from my Soul Silver playthrough)
Typhlosion/Taylon
Primarina/Searo
Victreebell/Pod
Toucannon/Carryie
Ribombee/Pafoofoo
Salazzle/Toxella
-(Ultra Moon)
Typhlosion/Taylon
Primarina/Hecean
Loppuny/Ploy
Lycanroc/Pounce
Malama'Thulu
Crobat/Donnie
Alolan Marowak/Mavrin(Named after my Fire Red Marowak)
-(Legends Arceus)
Hisuian Typhlosion/Fiera(First female Typhlosion I used)
WyrdeeLee
KleavoEdge
Luxray/Ankh
Roserade/Tango
Floatzel/Brazil
-(Scarlet)
Typhlosion/Taylon
Meowscarada/Tux
Annihilape/Bria
Talonflame/Match
Palafin/Locate
Dachsbun/Cinnamon
Maushold/Anno
Kilowattrel/Zold

I joined office last year, My company is a startup so there were hardly 10-15 people in one shift showing up. One of the guy used to come talk to me, We used to go eat, used to flirt w me on texts randomly and I kept shoving it off as I was more in the mindset of "growing in my career or let's just focus on myself and improve my life".
He is kinda hot looks wise, goes to gym, gets along with everyone around but wasn't my type. He wasn't as social a year back, had been FWB w 3-4 girls already in his hometown.
So we were working and got comfortable around each other. He kept asking to hangout on a weekend (after office hours) w me. I kept denying. He was really nice to me NGL.
I didn't even bother seeing him as a potential to date bc he isn't of my religion so I knew if i started liking him.. = heart break karwane ki ninja technique.
So one day i straightforwardly ask him "what do you want from me?" He doesn't see that coming. & Let's me know that he want to go w the flow and see how things work. tbh, both of us didn't want a serious relationship but he was okay w a FWB or someone he would go out with on weekends ( he kept saying he liked being around me a lot and that he would come downstairs everyday to just watch me leave and bye) & I have had guy friends who have been into me but I've never felt the same back for them since my last "talking stage" with a dude 3/4 years back. I have never been in a relationship or anything of sort so I decided to just go w this for "experience" & more so w a motive to find my own triggers and work on them on the journey. Both of us were on the same page
Now working at a start-up meant 13-15 hours at work and the time I had left was for eating or travelling/ sleep. And we started hanging out on weekends as dates. It may have started like FWB or just us dating? But he kept making it feel more than just FWB. Used to get me dinner at office if he saw me skipping it bc of work, get my chocolates, check up on me frequently, make sure I'm home safe and everything. ( Which i intially had asked him not to do all these stuff , bc I knew i would start liking him). He had mentioned he has kept girls to FWB only so far and never done nice things to them. But for me he naturally feels like doing nice stuff.
One day on a call, i compliment him on his laugh. He ended up saying "ily" suddenly. But doesn't repeat it. Same week at office, he ends up saying it again. I don't reply back. Why? Bc the first time we were going out, i denied, he got mad & went with another girl to roam around... I didn't like it( usually it doesn't matter to me) and that's when I knew i should give this a shot. So this had hurt me. And I didn't wanna say ily to someone randomly without meaning it.
Now fast forward to few months, We've been out on couple of dates, are besties, we have arguments but EOD solve them and make it up to eachother. We behave like collegues at office but our seniors kinda have an idea that this dude and I are a thing. Now we shift to a new office and he starts socialising w everyone and anyone (good trait). But now starts ignoring me in social settings especially when there are other girls ( to be exact, girls that are more outspoken/ a bit more dominant/ good looking). I've noticed how he keeps looking for validation around such girls. FYI, I'm quite good looking myself. But not as chubby,he is into girls that are bit more chubby than I'm usually is what I know of. So i bring this issue up and he works on it.
Now, he wasn't this social a year back when he had come to my city but has grown really social now. He has stuck to me, not seen other girls. But mingling w other girls from office (they are dating/ have their own guys too) .. he keeps saying how he/we are missing out on opportunities to date people as we are young and we might find a compatible partner (same religion). ( He used to not bring these up but socializing w the "cool group of girls" at office does leave a mark) He has grown as a person into his authentic self in the last one year. (Good for him!)
He gives a lot of credit to me saying, I've been his biggest cheerleader, kind, smart and what not.
Now, there was one point where he started to pull back (better opportunities to date) and i struggled to let go but I did let go. But we got back after a week. He fucked up once by doing something which was a no-go for me. I wanted to pull back, but he struggled to let go. So i forgave him. We got back together.
I resigned bc of toxic work culture affecting my health & it was then it hit me... I've got no friends anymore apart from him as bc of work, friend circle took a back seat. ( & No he isn't possessive about me, instead I'm more territorial of him as I don't like girls that unnecessarily stick to him around or him entertaining other girls which he likes about me). I don't have a job, no friends, no other guy, no one rn.
Now 2 weeks back we discuss that both of us don't work long term & we wanted to end things ( stop calling each other cute nicknames, holding hands and stuff - my thoughts on ending things) But he mentioned how he'd be okay for us to keep doing what we are doing until we find someone else. Which I'm not okay with. " I would rather end things now than continue until I find someone else bc I find this behaviour disrespectful to my first partner" Like oh, i found someone more compatible so now we will stop being each other's go to person. I believe it's almost like keeping a back up option to fall back on. ( However he has mentioned how he's never felt loved or never believed he would find love until he's been w me. He wants me in his life atleast as a friend bc he finds me to be a very genuine person)
If this continues, & he finds a better girl ( good looking, better social status or way smarter than I'm or has her career settled) I'm sure we would still be in touch but it would break my heart if I'm attached to him even a bit. I'm sure it would sting to say the least. ( Fyi, I'm sensitive but because of the life experiences I've had.. I have grown out to be practical in life and one of the main reasons both of us clicked is also because he likes my level of emotional intelligence which he finds to be better than most girls of my age)
So now after we had decided to end things, We still continued to next day onwards haha. Like good morning texts, checking in on eachother and stuff. Day before yesterday, we had a tiny argument and we decided to go no contact until Sunday and see how that goes. Fyi, he's going out to a pub/club tonight with his new group from office ( has girls and guys)
( Even he didn't have friends or didn't mingle much until last year but has been trying to get more social and once he had mentioned how if he has a friend circle than he would treat everyone equally.. nono would get priority. But when i brought this up day before... He said that was last year but he really loves me now. So he would keep me above all)
& Yet I can't help but feel like since he has a social group now, trying to climb up the ladder into "cool friends gang" ... He would keep me as priority but still would look down on me a bit. Or idk if my abandonment trauma is showing up.
He's genuinely nice to me but at the same time sometimes I feel i deserve someone who shouldn't be looking at even a bit of validation from others. Treats me respectfully personally and even in social settings & is protective of me and doesn't entertain other girls even a bit that are trying to get close to him.
Where am I wrong? Or what's your perspective on this situation y'all?

I joined office last year, My company is a startup so there were hardly 10-15 people in one shift showing up. One of the guy used to come talk to me, We used to go eat, used to flirt w me on texts randomly and I kept shoving it off as I was more in the mindset of "growing in my career or let's just focus on myself and improve my life".
He is kinda hot looks wise, goes to gym, gets along with everyone around but wasn't my type. He wasn't as social a year back, had been WFB w 3-4 girls already in his hometown.
So we were working and got comfortable around each other. He kept asking to hangout on a weekend (after office hours) w me. I kept denying. He was really nice to me NGL.
I didn't even bother seeing him as a potential to date bc he isn't of my religion so I knew if i started liking him.. = heart break karwane ki ninja technique.
So one day i straightforwardly ask him "what do you want from me?" He doesn't see that coming. & Let's me know that he want to go w the flow and see how things work. tbh, both of us didn't want a serious relationship but he was okay w a WFB or someone he would go out with on weekends ( he kept saying he liked being around me a lot and that he would come downstairs everyday to just watch me leave and bye) & I have had guy friends who have been into me but I've never felt the same back for them since my last "talking stage" with a dude 3/4 years back. I have never been in a relationship or anything of sort so I decided to just go w this for "experience" & more so w a motive to find my own triggers and work on them on the journey. Both of us were on the same page
Now working at a start-up meant 13-15 hours at work and the time I had left was for eating or travelling/ sleep. And we started hanging out on weekends as dates. It may have started like WFB or just us dating? But he kept making it feel more than just WFB. Used to get me dinner at office if he saw me skipping it bc of work, get my chocolates, check up on me frequently, make sure I'm home safe and everything. ( Which i intially had asked him not to do all these stuff , bc I knew i would start liking him). He had mentioned he has kept girls to WFB only so far and never done nice things to them. But for me he naturally feels like doing nice stuff.
One day on a call, i compliment him on his laugh. He ended up saying "ily" suddenly. But doesn't repeat it. Same week at office, he ends up saying it again. I don't reply back. Why? Bc the first time we were going out, i denied, he got mad & went with another girl to roam around... I didn't like it( usually it doesn't matter to me) and that's when I knew i should give this a shot. So this had hurt me. And I didn't wanna say ily to someone randomly without meaning it.
Now fast forward to few months, We've been out on couple of dates, are besties, we have arguments but EOD solve them and make it up to eachother. We behave like collegues at office but our seniors kinda have an idea that this dude and I are a thing. Now we shift to a new office and he starts socialising w everyone and anyone (good trait). But now starts ignoring me in social settings especially when there are other girls ( to be exact, girls that are more outspoken/ a bit more dominant/ good looking). I've noticed how he keeps looking for validation around such girls. FYI, I'm quite good looking myself. But not as chubby,he is into girls that are bit more chubby than I'm usually is what I know of. So i bring this issue up and he works on it.
Now, he wasn't this social a year back when he had come to my city but has grown really social now. He has stuck to me, not seen other girls. But mingling w other girls from office (they are dating/ have their own guys too) .. he keeps saying how he/we are missing out on opportunities to date people as we are young and we might find a compatible partner (same religion). ( He used to not bring these up but socializing w the "cool group of girls" at office does leave a mark) He has grown as a person into his authentic self in the last one year. (Good for him!)
He gives a lot of credit to me saying, I've been his biggest cheerleader, kind, smart and what not.
Now, there was one point where he started to pull back (better opportunities to date) and i struggled to let go but I did let go. But we got back after a week. He fucked up once by doing something which was a no-go for me. I wanted to pull back, but he struggled to let go. So i forgave him. We got back together.
I resigned bc of toxic work culture affecting my health & it was then it hit me... I've got no friends anymore apart from him as bc of work, friend circle took a back seat. ( & No he isn't possessive about me, instead I'm more territorial of him as I don't like girls that unnecessarily stick to him around or him entertaining other girls which he likes about me). I don't have a job, no friends, no other guy, no one rn.
Now 2 weeks back we discuss that both of us don't work long term & we wanted to end things ( stop calling each other cute nicknames, holding hands and stuff - my thoughts on ending things) But he mentioned how he'd be okay for us to keep doing what we are doing until we find someone else. Which I'm not okay with. " I would rather end things now than continue until I find someone else bc I find this behaviour disrespectful to my first partner" Like oh, i found someone more compatible so now we will stop being each other's go to person. I believe it's almost like keeping a back up option to fall back on. ( However he has mentioned how he's never felt loved or never believed he would find love until he's been w me. He wants me in his life atleast as a friend bc he finds me to be a very genuine person)
If this continues, & he finds a better girl ( good looking, better social status or way smarter than I'm or has her career settled) I'm sure we would still be in touch but it would break my heart if I'm attached to him even a bit. I'm sure it would sting to say the least. ( Fyi, I'm sensitive but because of the life experiences I've had.. I have grown out to be practical in life and one of the main reasons both of us clicked is also because he likes my level of emotional intelligence which he finds to be better than most girls of my age)
So now after we had decided to end things, We still continued to next day onwards haha. Like good morning texts, checking in on eachother and stuff. Day before yesterday, we had a tiny argument and we decided to go no contact until Sunday and see how that goes. Fyi, he's going out to a pub/club tonight with his new group from office ( has girls and guys)
( Even he didn't have friends or didn't mingle much until last year but has been trying to get more social and once he had mentioned how if he has a friend circle than he would treat everyone equally.. nono would get priority. But when i brought this up day before... He said that was last year but he really loves me now. So he would keep me above all)
& Yet I can't help but feel like since he has a social group now, trying to climb up the ladder into "cool friends gang" ... He would keep me as priority but still would look down on me a bit. Or idk if my abandonment trauma is showing up.
He's genuinely nice to me but at the same time sometimes I feel i deserve someone who shouldn't be looking at even a bit of validation from others. Treats me respectfully personally and even in social settings & is protective of me and doesn't entertain other girls even a bit that are trying to get close to him.
Where am I wrong? Or what's your perspective on this situation y'all?

It had started out like any other day.
At least, it should have started out like any other day. Wake up, take a shower, brush teeth, daily maintenance sort of thing. Even get ready for the day with a good sandwich. What was the way that it normally got done?
Right.
Two slices of ham. One thick slice of a golden tomato. Two thin pieces of creamy havarti, with a dash of mustard and just a little added salt and pepper. To them, it was the golden sandwich, the best of the best.
But for the puff of smoke and small little man who suddenly stood in front of her, it was less-than-pleasant.
However, despite the appearance of what she could only describe as both the most horrifyingly ugly creature ever birthed on the planet, and the most handsome devil she had ever seen - quite literally a devil too, judging by the short horns and swishing, barb-tipped tail - there was no speech. Instead, she sullenly breathed, sighing as she withdrew two more slices of bread from the bag. Whole wheat this time, two slices of corned beef, four jalapeno slices, two pieces of maasdamer and two lines of dijon mustard. Glancing up at the creature as she finished the sandwich, she could see the confusion mixed with anticipation on his face, her hand dropping a handful of kettle chips on the side of the paper plate as she rolled her eyes, sliding it across her counter without nary a word.
Still, it was odd with how quickly he had vanished, like a puff of smoke, when he grasped the sandwich. Though what was even weirder was how her life had changed after just the sandwich. Religious scholars would have claimed she had made a deal with the devil she had met, but no words and no offers had been exchanged, only a sandwich and a handful of kettle chips. She wondered if it had been the kettle chips - like potato chips, but even crunchier, they were satisfying while still much better than the simulated potato of regular chips. Despite all that, she had walked into her workplace the following morning, and everyone was congratulating her on her new promotion.
That had been three months prior. Since then, those little scamps, what many would dismiss as a trick of the light or a fictional hallucination, would show up, generally around breakfast and almost invariably on a Tuesday, to just silently stare as she made herself a sandwich in the morning.
Some would be quiet and just shrug their shoulders, while others got a little too into the creation of the meal itself. Avocado was the purview of the smaller, imp-like creatures, with a dash of garlic salt and some salmon, and no cheese. The devils, like the first one she had met, preferred spicy, asking for hot peppers of some kind in their sandwich, and almost always wanting corned beef.
The ones that were strange, though? The more seductive ones, those many would refer to as succubi. Their tastes were as varied as the world was wide, but they would almost always take a fried egg with whatever they wanted. The denizens of the underworld loved a homemade sandwich, and her accidental meeting with one three months ago sometimes seemed like fate, though likely it was an accident.
Regardless, he had told others of the funny human woman who made homemade sandwiches, and she was protected as the 'Great Sandwich Mother' as some of the smaller ones called her. She was barely in her late twenties, but it somehow felt right, at least, being the Sandwich Mother and not an actual mother. She had always enjoyed cooking for others, to the point that those in her alma mater had jokingly called her Mom at one point, and the nickname stuck.
But the one that stood in front of her today, well, he was not amused. Of course, when you have the literal Morning Star of the underworld himself, you realize pretty quickly when you might be a little in over your head. Especially when he stares down at your sandwiches in a mix of pity and bemusement.
"So, a human woman earns the respect of the denizens of my realm. More respect than I have ever been granted, even by those who consider themselves my better. And all of that... because of a sandwich?"
What does one say to Lucifer, the infernal lord of the Burning Lake, the thousand hells? What do you say to such a being when he stands in front of you? She spoke not a word, but simply sliced some tomatoes, and made four sandwiches for him. Four of the same sandwich she had made the day she had met the first devil to be accidentally brought into her home through summoning via condiment. A handful of kettle chips as well, and a tall glass of cherry soda to round out the offering.
"Ah, so scared to speak you can't help but offer small trinkets of... oh," Lucifer himself remarked, taking a bite of one of the sandwiches. For a being of the underworld, to whom many of the world's ills were attributed, she had never expected the King of Hell to break down and cry in her kitchen. He finished off the other three sandwiches in a flash, chomping on the kettle chips and gulping down the soda like it was his last meal. He glanced down, and looked her in the eyes as something stirred inside of him. The little ones, the imps and the gremlins, had all deemed her worthy of protecting, but the one time he had beheld her sandwich, he had thought it simple. Too simple.
Instead, he was reminded of what he was, reminded that he had not been bargained with, not been bowed to, but instead had been offered a humble lunch, a humble meal of homemade delights. He fell to his knees, himself bowing to her as she raised an eyebrow, still not saying a single word. Instead, he felt a hand pat twice on his shoulder as a warm smile graced her features, as he felt a funny little buzzing in his chest.
"I'm guessing they don't have homemade sandwiches down in hell, do they?"
"W-Why," was all Lucifer could croak out between tears as she glanced around, looking at the large kitchen she had been able to purchase with the unknowing assistance of those she had made lunch for.
"My mother. Stars bless her soul, she was kind. One day, she meets this stranger, handsome devil, she would always tell me. No words are said, only a single meal between them. But her life changed. Things became more positive, with a lot more simply going her way. Only, it never clicked for me. Three months ago I met that handsome devil, and boy howdy, when you mean it literally, it's quite literal. Both the ugliest and most handsome bastard you'd ever meet," she said, glancing around at her kitchen again. "But I made him a sandwich, because I wanted to be kind to someone like my mother had been for others. And more came, too. I've lost count, but there's Honey, the kinda short, voluptuous one with a ditzy streak. There's also Ink, the little imp obsessed with crayons and coloring books. I even met Jayvon, the devil my mother knew."
"W-Why, though?"
"Because even an immortal being of fire and brimstone needs to be reminded that there's good in the world, right? I'm Susan, by the way. Susan Jackson."
With her hand, she helped Lucifer to his feet, his face less snarling and deriding, and more homely and satisfied. It made sense why the little ones had deemed her worthy of protection, and why other humans were being considered for such protection as well. Susan was kind, and with a single sandwich, had given those of the nether realms something they had long forgotten existed.
She had shown them kindness.
[Author's Note: There's a writing prompt floating around on Tumblr which starts out exactly as this little flash fiction of mine does, with someone accidentally summoning a demon through their condiments on their sandwich. I can't find it for the life of me, but it got me thinking on how would Lucifer himself react to getting a homemade lunch? Thus? This story. Regardless, I've been getting back into writing again, and I've got a lot of stories that either need fixing or just restarting, and I'll be doing those soon, just... not for a bit. Unrelated flash fiction helps more]

This episode. So iconic. For so many reasons. Not the least of which being the fact that watching it post-covid is An Experience (like seriously, I get that they wanted us to see the actors' faces, but for the love of God, put a mask on a nurse every once in a while!).
Just one thing before I ramble on like I usually do: many thanks to u/RachaelJurassic and u/penni_cent, and everyone else really who has joined me in more conversations than I'd care to admit to (although, if you read these posts, you've seen the comments, you know we've gone overboard) for their valuable contributions. Thanks for nerding out with me guys xo
Aaanyway, back to our regular schedule of watching two idiots in love making every mistake from every romance novel available.
Isn't it wonderful when you wander into your family home, and your eyes just happen to fall on the woman you'll be marrying in a couple of days:
https://preview.redd.it/sahwvoek1hzc1.jpg?width=492&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=0c7e43d915abf4de47f08742ecd95a0d35416580
Oh wait, sorry, my mistake, that's just his Cousin.
Matthew complains about his "damn stick" that he wants to get rid of before the wedding because he "wants to go up and down the aisle without any assistance".
Funnily enough, he says this as well while looking at his cousin, Mary, while his actual fiancée is Right There.
https://preview.redd.it/ancb38dp3hzc1.jpg?width=492&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=112b71ccb424b0252e651e64e33d56a2f99b4ff4
Said fiancée, points out that "he'll have her to lean on, on his way down the aisle" and he smiles at that, thankfully.
I do find it interesting however, that he minded needing the actual, physical stick, on his way to the aisle, and pointed this out to the person he later admitted to being his metaphorical "stick" who wouldn't be making the trip up and down the aisle with him.
Basically, if he can't lean on Mary, he'd rather be able to stand on his own two feet, even if he concedes to Lavinia's point later, she literally wasn't his first thought. His troubled look when Mary points out the wedding is in three days before she walks away does not help his case either.
Btw, I'm not saying this to mean Matthew didn't love Lavinia. He wouldn't have tortured himself so much if he felt nothing for her. But he did get attached to her when he was in a very depressed and desperate state, thinking he'd die in the trenches, and he did resign himself to her return, without having sought her out himself, so the truth was that now he was duty-bound rather than an enthusiastic participant to the union, even if he still cared for her.
https://preview.redd.it/x8ufcnem3hzc1.jpg?width=726&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=351b6d115da29970ce99ab8a7f9cad7ced07a74c
Btw, these are truly unprecedented, challenging times, when Mary and Edith JOIN FORCES to persuade Sybil to rethink her decision to marry Tom.
They don't dismiss her feelings. They simply point out the fact that regardless of what she feels for Tom, her life would change entirely once she married him. And I can see both POVs as valid, here. I can see why her sisters would worry that she'd regret it. None of them even knew how the other half lived. Sybil didn't even know how to brew tea before the war. And I can see how they'd fear it would be an unbearable change if the novelty of a different life wore of and she found herself stuck in a place she no longer wanted to be.
But I also see it from Sybil's perspective. Even if we put aside her feelings for Tom, Sybil never liked the aristocratic lifestyle. She never fit in. All Crawley sisters struggled under a system that didn't allow them to be themselves, because sexism, but Sybil could truly not find a place for herself in it.
Mary was the one destined to run Downton. We've said it before that she's quite male-coded for that reason, always striving to please her father. She struggled to find a place for herself outside of that role once it became clear to her that it wouldn't happen, but she still thought she could make it work, somehow. Because above everything else, Mary was devoted to the Crawley family. She was the eldest, that was her role, and she had bee raised to play it (and she did).
Edith was the truly traditional woman of her time (at this point). She followed in her mother's footsteps perfectly. She always played the role society deemed acceptable for women as well as she could (with a bunch of missteps, and a lot of space that left her extremely vulnerable to manipulation). This including all the Angel in the Home/caring mother-hen image the war propaganda had created for aristocratic women looking after male soldiers at the time. And it was frustrating for Edith to play this role as well because even if she exceled, she didn't thrive. We see that again at a later scene where she's arranging Lavinia and Matthew's wedding presents and moaning about her life. In any case, she still believed that she could find a place for herself within her social circle (and she did!).
Sybil was the baby of the family. And I know lots of people disagree with this but, just my opinion: Sybil was the most "spoiled" one out of all three sisters.
Both Mary and Edith had roles to play. Either imposed by the family (Mary), or strived for to prove ones worth (Edith). Nobody demanded, or expected, anything from Sybil, other than to be a regular society woman. And when she wasn't being one she was scolded, but nobody ever tried to change her.
The problem that occurred from this is two-fold:

1. Sybil did get to see how the real world worked and she realised, she would be allowed to be freer there (true).
2. Sybil did not have a real role to play within the confines of the Crawley family and the high society. Other than to become someone's wife.

Sybil, therefore, HAD to leave Downton. And she knew it.
https://preview.redd.it/hrhs7fv62hzc1.jpg?width=726&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=27cc0192319be590d09bb8e78d3abaa816aa25a4
I'm really sad to have to skip all of Violet's excellent, excellent lines in this but I've got to keep my head straight otherwise we'll be here forever: Speaking of being the eldest child, with a role to play, and always held to account, Robert blows the first gasket against Mary, who's already standing up so I think we can easily assume she announced her knowledge of Sybil's plans herself.
Just look at how all eyes of the family (including Dad 2.0, and Matthew) are on her. Because she's responsible for Sybil, even though Sybil is a grown ass adult. Also: note how Mary NEVER mentions Edith's involvement. Because to Mary, it doesn't matter. She's the older one, she's the one shouldering the responsibility, and that's defining of her relationships throughout her life.
https://preview.redd.it/j9mk1as82hzc1.jpg?width=400&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=a276fdad430f7758c1585e801ed0c6e984a3c498
Btw, I love Tom here. "Give your daughter some credit for knowing her own mind."
Preach. I'd also like to point out that none of the women in the family tried to infantilise Sybil. Mary thought it was just a crush and would "blow over" (having had one of those that ended catastrophically for her) and even Violet said "she must have something in mind". The only person who didn't respect Sybil here, was Robert.
I do love Sybil's response "You can posture all you like, Papa." because Robert has no power over her, so it doesn't matter if he rages and raves, Sybil is her own person. Also, this is something neither Mary, nor Edith, would ever dare do, defy their father like that. We'll talk more about Mary's reaction to Robert's disappointment later, but this is the defining baby-of-the-family moment because Sybil's is audacious enough to be this defiant.
By the way (and I would have written about this in the other user's post about it but work's been a killer):
https://preview.redd.it/x8xmmhla2hzc1.jpg?width=826&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=5b87cdf4db0523b91352c8729f576427654ae7bd
This is why Robert (attempted an affair with Jane).
Him and Cora were not agreeing on anything. On Matthew's wedding. On Mary's wedding. On Sybil leaving with Tom. Plus, Robert was feeling "neglected" because Cora was busy with the hospital and didn't have time to, Idk, baby him? Praise him for existing? Either way, with their disagreements and, mostly, with Robert feeling his Male Authority questioned at every corner, he did what almost every man does in that situation: he tried to have an affair with a younger woman, in a position that would allow him to have authority over her, so he could feel significant again.
Great stuff 🙄
https://preview.redd.it/b3jyjs0c2hzc1.jpg?width=716&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=d389b1c70ebce2b9547869c4b7c679aeecbcb4da
Side note: I love how Anna's decision here is influenced by watching two Crawley women, reacting very differently to a similar situation.
Mary was a coward, who didn't dare stand in front of Matthew and say this is who I am, and therefore she had to, somewhat, be reduced to watching as other people took precedence (well, in theory, if not in practice) in caring for Matthew, the man she loved.
Sybil was not a coward, and she stood in front of her family and said this is who I am, take it or leave it, I'm siding with the man I love.
Anna watched, and made a decision on which was the camp she'd rather find herself in, if the worst were to happen.
"I won't be moved to the sidelines, to watch how you fare from a distance with no right, even to be kept informed"
Apparently, nothing was worse than being in Mary's shoes at the moment, and especially throughout Matthew's recovery (even though their situation was obviously not as extreme, or as dire, as Anna's).
https://preview.redd.it/78g81q7e2hzc1.jpg?width=400&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=aa4a2fc639a363737c7201c1197ea577181e2c1d
Carson falls sick. Cora falls sick. Lavinia falls sick. Molesley falls sick (hangover is kind of a sickness, no? How had nobody told the poor man you're supposed to spit out the wine when you're tasting lots of them) and Fellowes is already rubbing his talented, yet tragedy-driving, hands together.
Just going to hate on Robert for another hot minute: He says here to Clarkson not to worry about Cora needing nursing for a while because "All their daughters are professionals" *Mary in the background coming back from having helped Lavinia to rest in her bedroom, and hearing Clarkson say her condition looks good. Lord knows she's been doing back and forths informing Matthew and Lavinia of each others health for a while now*.
Nice that Robert acknowledges Mary nursing Matthew here, sad he'll forget all about it at a later season when he won't be able to remeber "Mary doing anything" during the war. But it's Robert, expectations have to be kept to a minimum most of the time I guess.
https://preview.redd.it/540d5u1g2hzc1.jpg?width=400&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=af2326462b5386781ca8b39b8fc480834690b440
Mary seeing Matthew and having to brace herself against the wall because it's only a few more days she'll be able to even watch him from afar.
She does do quiet suffering and longing like an absolute pro.
https://preview.redd.it/8pcipbxh2hzc1.jpg?width=698&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=a00d504b3f6ed77b73fed86c3a6923db334f8033
Something I hadn't noticed in any previous viewing: Matthew does a COMPLETE once-over of Mary, and clearly deeming her irresistible, offers *both hands, clearly expectant* for a dance.
That absolute asshole 😭 Poor woman, look at the shock (and delight) on her face.
https://preview.redd.it/7knhnsgk2hzc1.jpg?width=584&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b50945741e41a5c381eacd281818a3b32491f901
Mary: Can you manage without your stick?
Matthew: You are my stick.
First of all, his face????? Absolute devotion 😭
Second of all, he cannot walk down the aisle to meet Lavinia without his stick and isn't that troublesome because how can he DO IT without being able to be completely 100% independent, but put Mary in his arms and he will, quite literally WALTZ AROUND because Mary is there, she'll keep him steady.
I can't. Someone take this away from me, I can't deal. I know they said so much about how "Lavinia was there for Matthew" but these two assholes right here knew the truth, even if they wouldn't admit to it to anyone else.
Also, make a note of *just how closely* he holds her, because we'll see them waltz again in the next episode and it will be VERY DIFFERENT. Either if it's because there's no one watching here so he can indulge himself, or because he actually needs her to keep him steady, it's such a thing of beauty.
Also also, I love that the camera lingers more on Matthew's expressions here because we know Mary loves him. We know how much he means to her, what we don't know is how much HE still loves her. We're about to find out:
https://preview.redd.it/zcbeelln2hzc1.jpg?width=584&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=20472323a37248a57438813485be15816842d5df
And of course, why not try to bury his entire face in her hair while his soul practically leaves his body in grief.
Matthew: Oh, God, Mary. I am so, so sorry. Do you know how sorry I am?
Mary: Don't be. It wasn't anyone's fault. If it was, it was mine.
First of all, Matthew's affection for Mary's hair is further confirmed. Whether it's the texture, or the colour, or the smell, the man has a weakness.
Second of all, he doesn't have to explain, she doesn't question his words, they both know what the subject of the conversation is.
He apologises because he finally has realised he had his own part in things going sour between them. He'd been looking at world in black and white: You love me, or you don't.
Now he's been through the war and he knows things are actually not black and white. And he also knows that Mary loves him. That she's always loved him. And it no longer matters what her other reason was because her devotion cannot be questioned, and she has suffered for it as, or even more, than he has. So he has to say he's sorry, because he hurt her too.
He only says Violet "told him to marry her". He doesn't mention she had to spell it out to him that Mary loves him for him to either accept the truth of it, or finally decide to to say something about it. He probably thinks he's an idiot, not to have allowed himself to admit to the truth earlier. When she did everything she could to make him happy after he came back with Lavinia in tow. When she looked after him. When she offered to spend her life looking after him (twice).
He's too ashamed of himself, and I wonder at what point in their marriage, in the dark of night, it simply ate too much at him and he had to go "darling, I have to tell you something, I was such an idiot back then" and Mary would roll her eyes and tell him to go to sleep.
She absolves him immediately, btw. "It wasn't anyone's fault. And if it was, it was mine." Of course dear, pick that up. I can see how, in her mind, it was her fault, but we all know it wasn't. She was right at first, it wasn't anyone's fault. But never let me come between an eldest daughter and her responsibilities (unless it's my own sister in which case I'm THERE, guns blazing).
After he further explains his conversation with Violet, Mary asks "What did you say?" in such a small voice she literally made me cry. It was so important to her to know. Why. Why wouldn't he marry her now, after all this?
Matthew: That I couldn't accept Lavinia's sacrifice of her life, her children, her future, and then give her the brush off when I was well again. Well, I couldn't, could I?
Mary: Of course not.
Matthew: However much I might want to.
Mary: Absolutely not.
https://preview.redd.it/cke16d6v2hzc1.jpg?width=584&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=f3baa6aa15b55c0b3a3cf141febf05174330b7c0
Idiots, both of them.
I understand. I do. They're both creatures of duty. Mary gets it. Matthew has made a promise. Lavinia relies on that. She loves him. He's promised to marry her.
It sounds stupid to us now, but lives were different back then. Social norms had such a strong hold on people. Men didn't break engagements, it was shaming for their fiancees to be jilted.
But it's impossible for Mary and Matthew. Because they *do* love each other. And now they both know it. And it doesn't matter what the brain says, because the heart wants what it wants.
Btw, I'm so glad for this dialogue. Not just because it's on point, character wise, but also because Lady Mary Crawley would never in her life become a "pick me choose me love me" girl. You want to honour your promise to Lavinia, to prioritise it above your own, and Mary's, and Lavinia's happiness, you go ahead and do that Matthew Crawley. Mary won't fucking beg.
This scene was needed, for all those reasons. And for more than that, not including the fact that it's absolutely gorgeous and earned and makes my heart stop every time I see it. Because this way, Mary knows she had always been Matthew's first choice. That he chooses her, in this moment, even above his honour. First time, really, that a man prioritises her this much.
If he'd turned to her after Lavinia's death, WITHOUT this dance/kiss having happened, she'd always think she was his second choice.
And I think Matthew knows this and it's one of the reasons why he says "do you know how sorry I am?" because he can't bear to think of Mary not knowing how much she means to him.
I love that the camera spins around them a bit like the record spins on and all that while they were still dancing, the song was still going but when Lavinia came down the music was almost done so Matthew and Mary have no concept of time or for how long they were kissing and neither do we.
Speaking of this scene being necessary: Lavinia needed to see this.
https://preview.redd.it/uauu2nmy2hzc1.jpg?width=584&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=7cce335faae6bc791953e82f5efa17e294372209
She had been watching them, for months if not years. Even in 2.1 she watched Mary watch Matthew. She knew there was something there, she admits to it, that she was "having doubts". She bought into Cora's lies, came back into Matthew life and told him she wouldn't "accept him sending her away again" basically robbing him of choice, and now she came face to face with the facts: That Matthew loved Mary.
And I can understand that Lavinia did this out of love. I get it. I understand she didn't want to give up the fight. I also understand she had absolutely no reason to think Matthew didn't love her as well. He did. Just not enough.
Like I said, it takes four people to ruin two relationships. Lavinia's part in it was in her denial, Carlisle's in his malevolent actions, Matthew and Mary's in being so, so stupid (dutiful gives them too much credit, it was stupidity. And a hint of cowardice).
Anyway. Matthew didn't give Lavinia enough credit. Lavinia was braver than himself and Mary combined. Because even if she was the one who, presumably, had the most to lose here, she was the one most willing to stand up for what was right. And she had enough sense of self-worth, more than enough, actually, to know that living a life as someone's second best was simply not worth it.
You go girl. You deserved so much better than what this episode had in store for you. There isn't much that I don't like about season 2, but the one thing I hate is the fact that Lavinia had to die to drag on Matthew's guilt.
https://preview.redd.it/islxgfs13hzc1.jpg?width=584&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=44ae93f69ef70df5eba1076262a5968921ae1b0a
Lavinia: The thing is...I might as well say it. When I came downstairs and you and Mary were dancing, I heard what you said...and I saw what you did.
Matthew: But that was--
Lavinia: No, it's not that I'm in a rage and a fury. In fact, I think it's noble of you to want to keep your word when things have changed. But I'm not sure it'd be right for me to hold you to it.
Matthew: Lavinia, I can explain.
First of all, "But that was" - what, mate? What was it? A mistake? I highly doubt you'd dare say that big a lie. Were you saying goodbye? Never to see Mary again so you can be devoted to your wife? I very highly doubt that. You can't explain anything, not unless you're about to admit to her that you love another woman.
Second of all, damn you Fellowes for making women pick up so much slack for the men in their lives. Lavinia immediately having to justify herself in questioning him, even without Matthew asking her to, a trained reaction when a woman is about to be emotional. That she's not raging, or being hysterical.
Lavinia confirms she's been having doubts about the marriage, saying Matthew and Mary "looked so fine together" and Matthew literally says he doesn't want to hear it. Well, of course not. You'd have to admit to being an idiot and neither you or Mary are capable of that at the moment.
He can't even admit to how Mary cared for him. Lavinia says she came back and thought it was right because "she'd look after him and Mary wouldn't do that quite as well" as herself, and Matthew laughs and says "No, not quite".
I hate to point this out, but Mary was the one who actually looked after him when he arrived at Downton, stayed with him, washed him, cleaned up his vomit. Mary was the one who stayed with him after Lavinia went back to London, who helped him out of his depression and spent time with him while he recovered.
So, I think Matthew is STILL either denying the truth (to spare Lavinia's feelings), or agreeing that Mary's version of care is different to Lavinia's.
Because Lavinia treated him like a child that needed mothering. Mary treated him like he was the man she loved who was going through a difficult time, and she'd see him through it even if that meant she had to step back and let him CHOOSE for himself, what he wanted out of this new life. So no, Mary wouldn't "care for him" the way Lavinia would.
https://preview.redd.it/ihommai53hzc1.jpg?width=584&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=985504415a470b61009baa71e319e16d71d807ce
Oh, speaking of cringe, Matthew, my mate, "What you're saying is pointless, Mary's marrying somebody else", is that really what you're going with? That you shouldn't break the engagement because you can't have Mary anyway? Smooth. At least it was honest because I do believe he doesn't THINK he'd try to get between Mary and Carlisle.
Lavinia knows better than he does: Is she? We'll see.
Darling, it still took them months. You did your best, honestly 💔
https://preview.redd.it/u16qvjs63hzc1.jpg?width=584&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=253053ee38fd1b621fd5574b9a0ecf2533c1a379
This absolute asshat. Honestly. Coming to Yorkshire to be there, in case Lavinia dies, to act as a reminder to Matthew that Mary is *engaged* actually, and you can't just trade one fiancée for another my mate.
I *love* that he felt this was necessary. That he thought (so accurately) Mary was dismissive of him she'd drop him in a heartbeat. And again, we'll talk about just how precarious his engagement actually was in the next episode, but he really is so heartless to even think that if Lavinia died, Matthew would just trade her for Mary. I suppose that's what he himself would have done so...
Mary, my dearest idiot, what are you marrying 🤦‍♀️
https://preview.redd.it/nk2zsvd93hzc1.jpg?width=584&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=c6f14bd1afd89016d814cba850b1993ccb3ebcce
Carson apologises to Mary for "being a disappointment" to her.
Mary responding with "Maybe". Largely because the men in her life not making her a priority isn't a novel condition for her, so she'd hardly be disappointed to be let down by yet another one. But also "maybe" because if there was one man she never thought would let her down, it's Carson.
And she admits it. "But I've relied on your support for too long to do without it entirely."
And they immediately make up. Carson saying she'll always have his support, and Mary saying he'll have hers, because he is actually her father in all the ways that matter.
She brings him his tray, and gives him a warning about Thomas, to reiterate that support.
Poor Lavinia dies and I won't share a screenshot because it's the kind of heavy-handed drama I could have lived without.
"Isn't it better this way" no darling. Not for anyone. At least, the poor girl was half-delirious, like Cora was, so we know (hopefully) she didn't mean it.
Carlisle's drama as well, "let him be with her, surely you owe her that", excuse me, sir, but other than an apology for that kiss, Mary owes Lavinia shit. She stepped aside the entire way. Helped Lavinia even, so, so many times. You can fuck right off Richard, and please, do it soon because I'm tired of seeing your stupid face.
https://preview.redd.it/8hntkakc3hzc1.jpg?width=584&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=6a78e9fe71ecf3c7e60d08f1d022d3e025955f2a
Also, in the midst of all this, Mary helping Anna (the secret Mrs Bates - another favourite nickname) to get married and have as good a day, and night, as possible, for being braver than Mary ever was herself.
https://preview.redd.it/6h2gyu4e3hzc1.jpg?width=584&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4d37de08c86caf1478c18ff68ba80c1adfd5d916
I mean, grave sites are well known as a place to be dramatic AF.
I know there wasn't much anyone could say to Matthew in that moment but Mary, you idiot, agreeing with him? Letting him make the decisions, because he's done so well so far? I know you haven't had a great track record in decision-making when it comes to your personal life, but you could, at the very least, have said nothing at all. I know you can't stand up for yourself to save your life, unless it's to save face in front of Edith, but think of maybe not agreeing with Matthew's extreme morals every once in a while (she learns this lesson, thankfully, I think Isobel trains her to it).
P.S. It took a death to persuade Robert that Sybil can make her own choices.
P.P.S. Brace yourselves: It's the big Christmas melt-down next. And it's a Long One.

TW: transphobia and mention of the f slur) Context I’m young I won’t disclose how young but my mom is almost in her 50’s and my sister is almost 20. So I thought when I came out I think 4-5 years ago I thought I was non-binary but later discovered I was genderfluid. My mother and sister have been always a little bad about it but I was understanding of their point of view or tried to be. When I was younger soon after I had come out my mom talked to me in the car and said something along the lines of “I love you and will support you but you will always be my little girl” which at the time broke me but I understand how hard it must be for her now to have to switch at the time. I wanted to give them time to adjust but it feels as though we’re going backwards. My brother had a moment of accepting me crying on the phone and I hoped it was true that he had accepted me. Now he and his wife are more accepting then almost everyone in my family I even got to wear a tux at their wedding they correct themselves on my pronouns their okay with me wanting to be called uncle. I know I shouldn’t compare people on how accepting they are but my sisters nickname for me used to be the f slur. Now to the story recently we were on vacation we were in the hot tub and my sisters says “I just think almost every gay person (referring to all non straight and cis people) is traumatized” now there’s more to this quote because I asked her to elaborate and she did. She basically was insinuating that your gay because your traumatized and I said “maybe traumatized people are just trying more to find out out their emotions and in the process find out their sexuality or gender” she ignored me I don’t remember exactly what was said. Which is because I was so upset in that moment. I do remember though it was just transphobia being said or confusion of trans peoples experience. I got out of the hot tub and tried to leave they questioned me. I said I didn’t want to be involved in the conversation and it was making me upset. Then my mother said my sister was just asking questions and I said she wasn’t she was stating her opinion then my mother said “why are you so upset” I said “I’m not” and she said “you want me to record you and show you later you would agree” then I left and stayed in my bed for a day and half because I was so upset. I didn’t realize until recently how transphobic they are because only recently have they been more open about their transphobia saying things like “yeah having a uncle who wears dresses won’t be confusing” my mother being sarcastic when talking about my nephew and me. I chose to ignore the comment but my sister has called me an embarrassment and blamed that and something else on why she can’t make friends. My mother and sister never try with my pronouns anymore because I let it slide so much because I’m trying to be understanding but when I’ve gone by the same pronouns for 4 years it’s hard to be understanding and I’m not the only family member who’s part of the lgbtqia+ community and they don’t treat her like that. I just feel so angry and confused because I thought we had gotten past this point a long time ago. I guess we’ve gone backwards and it just makes me so upset and so sad to know this is supposed to be my family. I just wanted to get the way I felt about this situation off my chest I feel betrayed but thanks for listening.

Woo! Wednesday!
Here's the usual middle of the week quiz for you all. The rounds are; Pirates, Rock (not the music), and General Knowledge. I hope you enjoy it.
https://www.sundayquiz.com/wednesday-30-question-quiz-08-05-2024/
Questions - Rock

1. What is the real name of the American actor and businessman known by his ring name "The Rock"?
2. What is the other name for Ayers Rock - a massive sandstone monolith in the heart of Australia's Northern Territory?
3. Which famous actor starred in the action film "The Rock," portraying the character Dr. Stanley Goodspeed?
4. In geology, what type of rock forms from the cooling and solidification of magma or lava?
5. In Greek mythology, who has to roll a boulder up a hill only for it to roll back down every time it neared the top, repeatedly for eternity?
6. Rock Me Amadeus, the only German language song to peak at number one of the Billboard Hot 100, is a song recorded by which Austrian musician?
7. What is the name of the rock formation in County Antrim, Northern Ireland, known for its distinctive hexagonal basalt columns?
8. Which American musician and actor is known for his role as Dewey Finn in the film "School of Rock"?
9. The "King of Rock and Roll" is a nickname most commonly associated with which American singer who lived from 1935–1977?
10. Sedimentary rock is the most prevalent on the Earth's surface, what is the most common sedimentary rock?

Answers

1. Dwayne Johnson##
2. Uluru##########
3. Nicolas Cage#####
4. Igneous########
5. Sisyphus / Sisyphos
6. Falco##########
7. Giant's Causeway#
8. Jack Black#######
9. Elvis Presley#####
10. Shale##########

More quizzes...

Woo! Wednesday!
Here's the usual middle of the week quiz for you all. The rounds are; Pirates, Rock (not the music), and General Knowledge. I hope you enjoy it.
https://www.sundayquiz.com/wednesday-30-question-quiz-08-05-2024/
Questions - Rock

1. What is the real name of the American actor and businessman known by his ring name "The Rock"?
2. What is the other name for Ayers Rock - a massive sandstone monolith in the heart of Australia's Northern Territory?
3. Which famous actor starred in the action film "The Rock," portraying the character Dr. Stanley Goodspeed?
4. In geology, what type of rock forms from the cooling and solidification of magma or lava?
5. In Greek mythology, who has to roll a boulder up a hill only for it to roll back down every time it neared the top, repeatedly for eternity?
6. Rock Me Amadeus, the only German language song to peak at number one of the Billboard Hot 100, is a song recorded by which Austrian musician?
7. What is the name of the rock formation in County Antrim, Northern Ireland, known for its distinctive hexagonal basalt columns?
8. Which American musician and actor is known for his role as Dewey Finn in the film "School of Rock"?
9. The "King of Rock and Roll" is a nickname most commonly associated with which American singer who lived from 1935–1977?
10. Sedimentary rock is the most prevalent on the Earth's surface, what is the most common sedimentary rock?

Answers

1. Dwayne Johnson##
2. Uluru##########
3. Nicolas Cage#####
4. Igneous########
5. Sisyphus / Sisyphos
6. Falco##########
7. Giant's Causeway#
8. Jack Black#######
9. Elvis Presley#####
10. Shale##########

More quizzes...

When I was ten, I formed a junior detective squad.
Mom bought me the entire box set of What's New Scooby Doo, and I was inspired to start my very own detective gang. I held auditions outside the gymnasium at recess (serious enquiries only) after a number of kids tried to apply for the role of Scooby Doo despite me reiterating I was not interested in playing make believe.
When I was laughed at in class, I made posters strictly asking for SERIOUS wannabe detectives, even going as far as using my Mom’s printer to make flyers, sticking them all over the school.
Auditions were simple. I asked them to solve a simple riddle.
Whoever impressed me got to sign their name down, and I’d get back to them.
I spent three days sifting through kids who definitely had charm, but they lacked the intelligence of a junior detective. Most kids were only auditioning to make fun of me, anyway.
Still, though, I didn't give up.
My flyers had five requirements:
1). You had to be smart.
2). You were not allowed to be a scaredy cat.
3). You had to accept your inevitable death at the hands of our town’s evil villains.
4). You had to have a fully registered driving licence (I quickly changed this to a bike).
5). You cannot have a criminal record.
(I later scribbled this one out, writing over it. *“You cannot have any tardies.”
Narrowing the applicants down to three kids, all of whom failed to share my enthusiasm for solving cases. The kids I picked didn't even know how to make plans, and when I invited them to my house, they stole my Mom’s necklace.
I didn't even need to solve the mystery of who stole Mom’s necklace. The girl was wearing it at school. I punched her in the face, and was immediately sent to the principal’s office. When I was being given the mother all lectures, the door quietly opened, a head peeking through.
It was Ben Callows, a freckly kid with overgrown brown hair hanging in his eyes. Ben really needed a haircut.
He was always wearing the exact same baseball cap, and I found myself wondering if it was permanently glued to his head, stuck on top of unruly brown curls practically matted to his forehead.
In class, Ben was also known as Bloody Ben. In the second grade, the boy had a nosebleed in the middle of a spelling test, bleeding all over his paper.
It's not like he didn't try and detach himself from the name.
Ben brought in Digimon cards, so kids would call him Digimon Ben instead.
Then he “accidentally” spilled yoghurt down his shirt in hopes we would call him Yoghurt Ben. But no. The kids in our class were relentless in reminding him of his name. No matter what he did, he was still Bloody Ben, and when anything related to blood came up in class, fifteen pairs of eyes would swivel to him, like he had invented the concept of bleeding.
I feared the nickname would follow him to junior high.
Ben didn't wait to be let in. He didn't even knock, striding in with his arms folded. Over the years, Bloody Ben, had definitely soured his personality.
He smiled rarely, and when he did smile, someone was falling over or hurting themselves.
Which definitely strengthened the claims of him being a sociopath.
The rumor mill was churning, with the latest claiming Bloody Ben killed his cat. That wasn't true. Ben’s cat was seventeen with cancer, and that was why he was sobbing all the way through reading time.
According to Ellie Daly, however, Ben had killed and dissected his kitty, and buried her in his Mom’s flowers.
Now, my principal did not like being interrupted, especially when she was in the middle of screaming at me.
Principal Marrow was old old (like, thirty, in my ten year old mind) stick thin like a pencil, and always wore the same stained sweater.
She used to be pretty, but I was convinced she had kissed a frog and been cursed. After our old principal suffered a stroke, she stepped in as a temporary replacement, and since becoming principal, had banned my favorite book series, colored shoe laces, and hamburger helper, even officiating a uniform.
(vomit green shorts and a tee, and plain white sneakers).
Kids were convinced she was a witch, and I kind of believed it.
Principal Marrow’s whole existence was built on sucking the fun out of school.
I was already reprimanded for my mystery gang flyers.
Her office smelled of peppermint and she was definitely sneaking sips of whisky in her coffee cup. I could see the bottle sticking out of the trash.
She straightened up, folding her arms across her chest, squinty eyes narrowing at the boy. I had spent the whole time she was lecturing me trying not to cry, my fists bunched in my lap.
I took the distraction as the perfect opportunity to swipe at my eyes, allowing myself to breathe.
Ben Callows was her victim now.
I was right. The woman's voice was like a thunderclap in my ears.
“You better have a good reason for not knocking, young man.”
Ben wasn't fazed by her tone. “You took my Switch two weeks ago,” he said, “I want it back, or I’m telling my Mom.”
At first, I thought I'd misheard him.
No, I was pretty sure he'd threatened our principal.
I swore I heard all of the breath sucked from the room.
“I'm sorry,” Principal Marrow cleared her throat. Her soft tone was dangerous.
She wasn't being nice. The lady was about to explode.
I could see visible veins straining in her temples, her right eye twitching.
It was straight out of a cartoon.
“Did you forget something, Ben?”
Ben sighed, like she was inconveniencing him.
He held out his hand. “Please can I have my Switch back? It counts as stolen property. Give it back, or I'm telling my Mom.”
The kid put so much emphasis on the word please, I couldn't resist a smile.
I think our principal was too shocked to get angry.
“Get out.” She said, firmly. “I don't have your gaming device.”
“It's in your drawer.” Ben nodded to her desk, “Under your divorce papers and the restraining order ordered by Jake Willow, the seventeen year old boy you've been having math ‘tutoring sessions’ with.” He quoted the air, his gaze lazily rolling to me. “Tutoring”
Principal Marrow went deathly pale, her eyes darkening.
“Benjamin Callows–”
“The school already knows about the restraining order, but your uncle is the head of the Board of Education, so all you get is a slap on the wrist and a warning to leave the boy alone."
Ben continued, and I found myself mesmerised by his words. He was a natural, his expression stoic, mouth curved with satisfaction that wasn't quite a smile. “However.” He held up his phone, pulling it away at the exact moment the teacher attempted to grab it. “You were outside Jake Willow’s house at 6:12am, drunk, and trying to climb through his window, which, I think violates the restraining order, does it not?”
Ben pretended to think real hard, his gaze flicking to the ceiling.
“I mean, I'm just a kid, right?” His mouth curled into the hint of a smirk
“What do I know, huh?”
Principal Marrow’s expression twisted, her lip wobbling.
“Mr Callows, remove yourself from my office, or I am calling your father.”
Leaning comfortably against the door, Ben’s lip twitched.
“Why? Are you planning on telling my Dad about your relations with a teenage boy, or will I have to tell him instead?”
I was enthralled, and fully disgusted, making a move to inch away from the woman.
“But it doesn't end there.” Ben continued. He straightened up, taking slow, intimidating steps towards the woman's desk. “You don't even want Jake, do you? Because, once upon a time, you were in love with his father. Jason Willow. You despised him for rejecting you, so you decided to defile his son.” Ben leaned over the principal’s desk, slipping his hand into the drawer, and pulling out his switch.
Painfully slowly.
She stood there, speechless, her shoulders trembling.
Ben smiled, and I found myself liking it.
“Thank you!” He said, waving the console in her face. Ben mimed locking his mouth and throwing away the key.
“My lips are sealed.”
Ben’s half lidded eyes found mine. “Are ya coming, Panda?”
I forgot my own nickname.
Panda.
I wore my Mom’s eyeliner because I thought it looked cool.
It did not.
Finding my breath, I snapped out of it.
Jumping up, I followed him out of the office, and when the two of us were safely on the hallway, I burst into hysterical giggles. “How did you know all of that?!” I whisper- shrieked.
Ben surprised me with a splutter. “Wait. You believed me?”
Something very cold trickled down my spine.
I stopped walking. “You lied?”
He shrugged. “I had a dig around her office before she caught me a few days ago,” Ben swung his arms, a smile curling on his mouth. “There's no restraining order, but there is prescription anti-psychosis medicine, and an extremely detailed story on her laptop about a teachestudent romance, which I presume is a self insert.”
Ben shot me a sickly grin. “The school refused to make her condition public.”
He prodded at his own cotton shirt embroidered with the school emblem.
“Why do you think she's made all these dumb rules? The woman is a certified Looney Tune.”
I nodded slowly. “Wait. What about Jake and his dad?”
“I made them up.”
I choked out a laugh. “And… the video?”
Ben walked faster, pulling out his phone and shoving it in my face. The video was real. Principal Marrow was walking around in circles, draped in her nightgown. “It's her own house,” he explained. “She locked herself out.”
Nodding slowly, I was in awe. Bloody Ben was kind of fucking amazing.
“But the restraining order isn't real.”
Ben raised a brow, coming to an abrupt halt. It was his smile that cemented his place in my gang. His lack of empathy for a woman he had gaslit into being a disgusting human being. Ben Callows wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but he fascinated me. Maybe for the wrong reasons. “Her filing cabinets are filled with tinned cat food, Panda,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, “I’m not psychic, but I thiiiiink we’ll be okay.”
I turned to him, unable to stop myself jumping up and down with excitement.
“Will you be my first?!”
Ben inclined his head. “Will I be your what?”
I shook my head. “Sorry. I mean, will you join my mystery gang?”
The boy’s eyes lit up, and I shoved him playfully.
“To solve real cases,” I corrected myself. “Not make them up.”
Ben wore a real, proper smile. But there was something in his eyes, a darkness that was so hollow and polluted and wrong, I pretended not to see it for the sake of his smarts and intellect. “Well, if you insist, sure!” Ben held out his hand, and I shook it. I'll be your first.”
We found our second member, who was, ironically, looking for her glasses under the table in class. Lucy Prescott, the quiet girl, was born to be with us.
The class eraser went missing, and she found it in the blink of an eye.
When questioned, Lucy’s face turned as red as her hair. “I asked everyone in the class and followed the clues to the last person who had it,” she pointed to Chase Simpson. “Which was Chase, who was throwing it at Marcus Calvin.”
Twisting around in my chair, I aimed to get Ben’s attention. But he was already looking at me, chin resting on his fist, eyes ignited with excitement.
The two of us cornered Lucy after class, and when she motioned for us to get back, I dragged Ben (who was a little too excited) to my side.
Lucy looked mildly horrified when I said, dangerous cases, though her expression pricked with intrigue.
She agreed, her gaze lingering on Ben, cheeks smouldering.
Our last two members were a surprise.
Violet Evergreen was what you would call popular on the middle school hierarchy. Not just because her mother was the mayor, but because Violet could get away with murder. The girl refused to wear the school uniform, coloring a single purple streak in her hair to cement herself as the it girl.
She was also one of the girls who started the Bloody Ben rumor.
Ben, Lucy, and I were sitting on the grass during recess, trying to come up with a name for our detective service, when Violet came storming over, hands planted on her hips. She was copying how her mother held herself during town meetings.
“What are you doing?” Violet demanded.
Lucy opened her mouth to answer, Ben nudging her to shut up.
“Making a mystery gang.” I told her. “Why?”
Violet inclined her head. “Oh.” She folded her arms. “Well, can I join?”
Ben stood up, stepping in front of the girl. Violet didn't move, stubbornly standing her ground. “Sure.” Ben flashed a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. He stepped closer to her, his smile widening. “If you can pass the test.”
Violet’s lip curled. She took a single step back. “What kind of test?”
Ben nodded to me. “Meet us at the swimming pool at 8pm.”
To my surprise, Violet nodded. “Do I need to bring anything?”
“Nope!”
8pm. The four of us met outside the local swimming pool.
Violet was already on the other side of the fence, waving.
“Hey guys!”
I noticed Ben’s expression, his eyes darkening, lip curling.
Still though, he maintained positivity, vaulting over the fence.
“You made it!”
I followed him, helping Lucy, who was immediately freaking out. I didn't blame her. The pool looked cold and dark, a hollow oblivion carved into the ground.
Ben and Violet stood on the edge, the two of them shoulder to shoulder.
Violet Evergreen was braver than I thought.
Standing with her arms at her sides, Violet's hands clenched into fists.
“What's the test?” Violet said, her gaze glued to bleeding black depths.
“I don't know,” Ben murmured, his voice teetering on a giggle. He leaned forwards, arms spread out. “I didn't think you'd actually come meet us.”
Violet hummed, stretching out her leg, teasing it across the surface. “Was that the test?”
The boy leaned back. I caught the glint of a grin under the floodlights. “Nah.”
Before I knew what was happening, he shoved Violet into the pool. The girl didn't scream or shriek, she just hit the surface, sinking into pitch dark nothing.
“Sink or swim,” Ben said in a low murmur, when Violet’s head bobbed under water. I could see her shadow under the surface, imagining the freezing cold depths pulling her down.
“Drown, and you can't join us.”
It was so quiet, suddenly. The three of us staring into rippling water.
A minute passed, and my tummy started to twist.
“Fuck.” Ben’s expression stayed stoic. I wasn't expecting him to say a bad word.
He cocked his head. “I thought she could swim.”
I hit him, holding in a cry. “You need to get our parents!”
But he didn't listen to me, taking a single step, and dropping into the pool.
I fell to my knees, scanning the water.
Lucy was crying. “Are they dead?!” she shrieked.
“Shhh!” I was watching two shadows lingering under the water.
Violet broke through. I expected her to be crying, but her expression was unwavering. She was silent. I thought the splashing underneath her was her legs trying and struggling to tread water, before Lucy shoved me. Hard.
“Panda! What do we do?!”
Looking closer, Violet was perfectly still, her gaze on the sky.
While she shoved Ben under the water, drowning him.
Violet’s eyes sparkled, and somehow, I knew she belonged in my gang.
Her gaze found mine, glinting with that darkness, that poisonous streak I found myself drawn to. It was a starving, insatiable need to understand a fractured mind. Know your enemy.
“Do you want to see if Ben’s a witch?” Violet asked me, her tone something else entirely. This girl did not make sense, using barely her finger to drown Ben Callows. I knew she was wrong.
I knew there was something loose, something unlocked and unbridled and drowning inside her mind and heart.
But I wanted more of her. I wanted Violet Evergreen in my detective gang.
I think that is why I stood there, frozen.
When the thrashing stopped, Ben broke through.
He wasn't coughing or spluttering, his head inclined. “You didn't drown.”
Violet climbed out of the pool, offering her hand. “And you're not a witch.”
He declined her hand, taking the steps instead.
I asked Violet in a shaky voice. I was trembling with terror, but I was excited.
Exhilarated.
“Violet, will you join my gang?”
She didn't answer me until we were sharing hot cocoa in my house.
I told Mom we fell in the pool, and she believed me. I should have told her that my friends were sociopaths, and I was kind of maybe in love. Violet sipped her cocoa, nodding with a smile I didn't recognise. Violet never smiled at school.
Well, she did. But it was always the prick of a cruel smirk.
I don't think her smile was genuine, but she was definitely enjoying herself.
Our last member came to us, instead of finding him.
Jules Howell, a straggly brunette pushed his way in front of me in the lunch line. I didn't really know the kid.
He sat at the back of the classroom and slept through most of class. I did like his accent though.
Jules had moved from Melbourne in the second grade. He didn't talk much.
When he did, I found myself enveloped in his voice, which sounded like water to me, a bleeding cadence to his tone.
Jules piled his plate with fries, smiling widely at the lunch ladies.
“I saw you last night.” He murmured through that perfectly moulded grin.
“Saw me where?”
“At the pool,” Jules said. “You, Bloody Ben, Violet Evergreen, and that Lucy girl. You were doing a suiciding pact.”
“That's not what we were doing.” I said, “What's a suiciding pact?”
“When you kill yourself together.” Jules said. “I saw it in a scary movie my Mom was watching.”
I grabbed a fork. “We weren't doing that.”
His eyes were strange when I took the time to notice them. The excited gleam had fizzled out. Jules’s hands tightened around his tray. “Then what were you doing?”
I didn't reply, making my way over to our usual table. Ben was already waving me over, Violet and Lucy holding up the flyers we were making.
THE REDBLOOD DETECTIVES.”
Do YOU need our help? We can find/solve anything! Contact us on the number below. (We take donations!)
When I bothered turning around, Jules was lost in the crowd of kids.
We were on our first official case, searching for Mrs Lake’s missing mail, when Jules appeared seemingly out of nowhere. And with him, a golden retriever puppy he introduced as Arlo.
It took a dog jumping up at them for Violet and Ben to find their real smiles, their real selves slowly seeping through these facades they had built around themselves. Ben dropped to a crouch, ruffling the dog's ears, his smile faint.
“Who's a good boy?” He chuckled.
Arlo didn't move, tail wagging, eyes bright.
Ben motioned the dog towards him, but Arlo stayed put.
Jules joined us…quietly.
I don't remember asking him, or even him asking me.
He just became part of us, side by side with Arlo.
We soon came to quickly realize that our town was boring.
There were no monsters or thieves, or soul sucking demons. No criminals or serial killers. Not even one missing person. We did, however, get calls about missing cats. I turned eleven years old, patiently waiting for a murder or a kid going missing. But there was nothing.
All we did was chase cats, and the occasional dog. Maybe a budgie if we were lucky. Twelve years old, our detective club became a joke.
The five of us (and Arlo hiding under the table) were trying to pinpoint Mrs Tracy's lost hamster, when three girls came over, dumping their soda all over us.
We watched crime shows for inspiration on catching killers.
Ben’s favorite crime was one that happened in the 80’s in our town.
2 girls murdered.
Their intestines stuffed into envelopes and mailed to family members.
“That's what we should be solving,” he told me one night, “Not missing cats.”
Thirteen years old, we lay in Violet’s backyard under the cruel glare of the summer sun. We called it working and didn't like to admit it was hanging out, or that we were even friends. However.
That didn't stop us growing closer.
Even if it wasn't quite the way I’d expected.
I proposed a plan, standing up, wobbling a little off balance.
“I've got it.” I said, my voice kinda slurry from Violet’s special summer cocktail, which was just random alcoholic beverages we found, thrown into a blender, and diluted with water.
The town wasn't taking us seriously.
So, we were going to make our own mysteries.
I ordered a full-scale assault on our small town. One that they could not ignore. Ben stamped on Mrs Mason’s flowers, and Lucy threw mud pies at people's cars. Jules trashed the high school gym, and Violet and I spray painted threats and warnings on every store window. Now, this did cause panic, but also an official curfew.
Thirty minutes before curfew, we met in our usual spot, deep in the forest near the lake. Ben yelled at me when I was three minutes late. He was real passionate about finding a real mystery.
“You're late.” Ben was sitting on a rock waving a stick in Arlo’s face.
The dog still wasn't going near him, whining softly.
I took my place, muttering an apology. “I had to lie to my Mom.”
Violet, sitting with her legs crossed, idly digging her manicure into the dirt, suggested we buy mannequins and masquerade them as dead bodies, hanging them from the school rafters.
Lucy, who had slowly grown out of her shell, becoming a lot more outspoken, nudged her. “That's a stupid idea.”
The girl groaned, leaning into her. “Urgh. You're right.”
Jules was the only energetic one, standing on the tireswing.
He jumped down, definitely twisting his ankle.
But his smile only widened, kind of like he enjoyed being in pain.
“Why don't we pretend to be kidnapped?” He said, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over blondish curls growing out. Jules did a dramatic spin, his eyes shining. “We can ‘go missing’ for like a week, and then when our parents are really scared, we can turn up, and tell them we escaped a kidnapping.” His lips split into a grin.
“And then we solve our own kidnapping!”
Ben awkwardly patted Arlos head, only for the dog to pull away with a snort.
“I like it,” he murmured. “I'm in.”
Jules’s idea was stupid.
But.
It was worth a shot.
The five of us agreed to meet the morning after with enough food and supplies for a week. Then we were going to hike to the next town, and hide out for a week. It was an almost perfect plan, using ourselves as victims of our own mystery.
Packing as much as I could, I kissed my mother goodbye (I told her my pack was for a picnic) and set off to the rendezvous we agreed on.
When I arrived, I was the first one there. I checked and re-checked my pack.
I waited ten minutes, unable to contain my excitement.
Then 20 minutes.
It was getting kind of cold.
One hour.
I sat on a rock for enough time to watch the sky change color.
When the clouds were orange, I stood up and stumbled back home. They had gone without me. Mom lectured me when I got home, and I stuck to the plan of pretending my friends had gone missing, even if I they had betrayed me.
Ben said he'd text me when he arrived at the redervous. I at least expected him to text an explanation, but there was nothing. I was in the dark, and after three days of nothing, our town finally began to take us seriously.
“Our children have been kidnapped!” The adults were screaming.
Mom was crying in the kitchen, praying to a god I knew she didn't believe in that I wasn't taken next. I was interviewed and stuck with the exact same story I came up with when I was with the others. Our plan was to return after a week, claiming to be locked up in a dark room with a masked man.
I told my Mother and the other parents that I didn't know where my friends were, repeating the same thing over and over again until I was tongue tied.
“I saw them the day before they went missing, and… yes, everything seemed okay.” I slowly sipped my glass of milk provided, looking the sheriff directly in the eyes.
“No, I didn't notice anything suspicious, sheriff. Yes, I'm sure, sir. No, they didn't tell me anything.”
It was Ben’s mother who shattered my mask.
“Did I know about… what?” I whispered.
Something warm filled the back of my mouth, foul tasting milk erupting up my throat. I leaned forward, trying to look Mrs Callows in the eye. “No, I… I didn't know about Ben’s…condition.”
Mrs Callows was screaming at me about her son’s troubled past when I barfed all over myself, my eyes burning.
In the privacy of my own room, I sobbed until I couldn't breathe.
I tried to tell Mom, but we had come so close.
One more day, and the others would be back.
But that day came. I sat cross legged at our usual spot, which was now covered in police tape. I waited for their thudding footsteps, their laughter congratulating each other for coming up with a great plan. I waited, my face buried in my knees, for my friends.
It was dark when my phone vibrated, and I'd fallen asleep.
I wasn't scared, forcing myself to my feet.
“Where are you?” Mom yelled down the phone.
“Coming home now.” I muttered.
“Sorry.” I paused, holding my breath against a cry. “Mom.” I broke down, forcing my fist into my mouth to hide my squeak. “Mommy, did they come back?”
Mom didn't reply for a moment.
“I'm so sorry, baby.” She whispered, ending the call.
I took my time walking home that night.
There were no stars in the sky.
When a hand clamped over my mouth, I could smell him.
When he dragged me back, stabbing a kitchen knife into my throat, I stared at the sky and looked for stars. His arms were warm around me, violently pulling me into the back of a pickup truck. The pickup truck he'd said he was bringing.
It was his grandfather's, and he could just about drive it.
Hitting the backseat, my body was numb, my thoughts in a whirlwind.
The pickup flew forwards, and I remembered how to move.
I rolled off the seat, my hands pinned behind my back.
Twisting around, blinking in the dim, I could feel something warm, something seeping across upholstery seats. Blood.
It was everywhere, sticky on my hands and wet on my face when I struggled to get up. I was lying in someone's blood.
A scream clawed its way out of my throat.
The pickup flew over a pothole, and something dropped off the seat.
Arlo’s leash.
I screamed again, this time his name gritted between my teeth.
I didn't stop screaming until the jerking movement stopped. The doors opened, pale light hitting me in the face.
Flashlight. Warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me from the car, and then, pulling me by my hair, into our old tree house. It was always our secret place, our saving grace on the edge of town.
The flickering candlelight caught me off guard, illuminating my surroundings.
Two bodies slumped over each other, lying in stemming red.
I felt suffocated, like I was going to die. I screamed, and that warm hand cradled my mouth again, gagging my cries.
Violet and Jules.
There was something wrong with them. And it was only when I forced myself to look closer, when I realized their insides had been carved out, heart, stomach, everything, pulled out.
There was paper on the floor.
No, not paper. Envelopes.
Envelopes stuffed with gore, bright red leaking through white.
Shuffling back, my brain was too slow to react, while my body was trying to vault to my feet, only to be violently pulled back by my ponytail.
I felt his fingers twining around my hair, revelling in my screams.
With another tug, my head was forced forwards.
Orange candlelight felt almost homely, this time lighting up a third body.
Lying on their back, curled up, pooling scarlet dried into the floorboards, their wrists restricted with duct-tape.
I could feel blood underneath me, sticky, a congealing paste.
“Do you know what happened on October 3rd, 1987, in our town?”
Lucy Prescott stood over me, her arms folded across her chest.
I managed to shake my head, when she grabbed Ben’s legs, dragging him under the candlelight. I dazedly watched her stroke the blade of a carving knife, the teeth already stained scarlet. “The intestine murders.” Lucy hummed, tracing the knife down the floorboards.
“A man murdered two high school girls, carving out their insides and sending their pieces to their loved ones.”
Lucy's eyes found mine, ignited in a familiar gleam. I saw it in Principal Marrow’s office. Then the swimming pool. The cafeteria. “It was the sheriff's only murder case, Panda. Ever since then, our town has been boring. There's no mysteries to solve. Nothing to find.”
The girl jumped to her feet, retrieving a blood stained envelope.
She held it up, a smile curved on her lips. The girl turned around, and I heard a horrific squelching sound. Lucy held up a bright red sausage, ripped into it, and slipped it into the white paper.
“But I can change that.” she said, in a giggle.
“I can create a real serial killer, who we can hunt down together.”
Lucy stabbed the blade into the floor, laughing.
“Or! I can bring a fan-favorite back! I can bring the intestine killer back from the dead!”
Her gaze flicked to the others. “There are casualties, of course. The story is, I was kidnapped with Ben, Violet, and Jules. The scary intestine killer killed them, and I managed to get away.”
Lucy shuffled over to me, her eyes wide. “Then! He came back and struck again!”
With those words, she shoved me onto my back.
“First he took Violet,” Lucy hummed, tracing the blade down my shirt.
“Then… Jules.” I squeezed my eyes shut, pulling at the restraints around my wrists. “Then Ben.” her breath tickled my cheek. “And finally… Panda.”
Lucy lifted the knife, and I accepted my death.
Until a low rumble in my ears.
Shouting.
Thundering footsteps, followed by the pitter-patter of paws.
“Lucy!” The sheriff was screaming, and the girl stumbled to her feet, the knife slipping from her fingers. Lucy stumbled, tripping over Ben’s body.
“He got away!” she shrieked. “He…he killed them! Oh, god, please help me!”
I don't think Lucy even realised the traces she'd left behind.
The blood slick on her fingers, her manic, grinning smile full of mania.
I was looking for stars when an officer crouched over me.
I couldn't understand what she was saying.
Her voice was white noise.
“Rachel? Hey, try and sit up, honey. You Mom is on her way.”
Instead of listening to her, I curled into myself.
My gaze found Arlo sticking his nose in Ben’s hair, trying to nudge the boy awake.
I didn't fully register the next few days.
They went by in a confusing blur.
Part of me tried to eat, and spent hours with my head pressed against the toilet seat.
I could still see the slithering, scarlet remains of my friends every time I closed my eyes. There was so much red, soaked in that hunting orange light.
Blood that I could still see, a starless sky that stretched on forever.
Weeks went by.
Then months.
I think I turned 14. I wasn't sure. I didn't feel alive anymore.
I stood at my friend’s funerals with a single rose I dropped into their casket.
Violet’s mother was quick to cover the whole thing up.
Lucy's plan didn't work after all.
Our town’s murder cases stayed stagnant at one.
It's been four years since my friends were murdered by our ’Velma’.
Now, at seventeen, Mom asked if I wanted to visit Lucy in juvie.
I'm not even upset or angry anymore.
I want to know why.
Ben picked me up. Arlo was at his side, wagging his tail.
Ben was…different. He'd dumped his baseball cap and gotten a haircut, swapping his old wardrobe of drab colors for an attempt at changing style.
That day, he looked awkward in a short sleeved tee and shorts.
At school, Ben is no longer Bloody Ben.
Now, he is Survivor Ben.
I’m still Panda.
Every time I was with him, I felt like my soul was being sucked out.
Guilt so deep, so fucking painful, I lost my breath.
I live knowing that I immediately assumed it was him that day.
Ben was barely alive when I found him. Lucy had started to carve into him before remembering she needed me.
After admitting it to him, his lips formed a small smile.
“Can I tell you a secret?” He said to me, at sixteen.
"Yeah?"
Whatever he was going to say, Ben never told me.
Presently, I nodded at the dog’s new collar.
“Peppa Pig themed?”
The boy shrugged, ruffling Arlo’s ears. “FYI, he chose it.”
“It's cute.” I said. “Very… chic.”
We didn't speak the whole ride, but Ben did entangle his hand in mine.
We spent half an hour outside the detention centre. I was panicking, and Ben was trying to hide that he was panicking. In the end, we joined hands, and strode through the doors together.
Lucy greeted us with a wide smile. Just as psychotic.
The orange jumpsuit suited her, though I had zero idea why.
“Hey Arlo!” she giggled at the dog, and Ben pulled the pup onto his lap.
“Ben.” She sighed. “I wish I got to finish you. I would have loved to solve the mystery of your gutted corpse.”
Ben’s smile was wry. “Nice to see you too.”
Behind a glass screen, I asked Lucy one simple question.
“Why?”
Lucy didn't reply. Or she did, but it was just nonsensical bullshit.
But there was one thing she said has stuck with me, chilling me to the core.
I am fucking terrified of Lucy. Of what's she's done, and what she's capable of doing.
It was a throwaway line, and I don't even think Ben noticed.
Or he did, and was in denial.
Lucy's smile was wide, her eyes empty pools of nothing.
The exact same glint in Ben’s eyes.
Jules’s eyes.
Violet’s eyes.
Like something was gnawing away at their psyche, twisting and contorting it, filling them with darkness, poison, that was so vast, so endless, I had craved it as a child. I still don't know what it is.
But I'm going to find it.
Lucy's laugh was shrill, and next to me, Ben didn't move a muscle.
“I don't even wear glasses!”

I am a 16(M) and I have been living in India for the past 10 years and I am of Indian origin. I wanted to ask everyone for help if they can provide regarding an urgent situation.
I had a terrible past and a lot of things happened that was quite unexpected and unlucky. I had to see my mother die, my paternal family fighting with my maternal family for my custody at the age of 8, then having no friends, no social life for real and more off feeling left out all alone. I know I shouldn't blame anyone in the name of fate but I believe the root cause of everything due to which all the bullshit took place and how I lost a loving dear family and also a good and loving mother, is due to my father.
My father has always been irresponsible, illogical and more off stands proudly as being an arrogant person who does what he feels like due to which he misses out on a lot of things and stuff that he as an adult (now 50 years) should have had the understanding and the learning of. He has no sense of time management, the world and never plans according to anyone. If he needs something, he will either buy it or just emotionally manipulate it. From the very start of my parent's marriage, there has been chaos and terrible mishaps in the relationship. From what I have heard, my father used to argue with my mother for more dowry (since my grandpa (maternal) has always been rich), take me as 3 year old in the hot sorching sun to his mother's house everyday with her refusing or making excuses to let me and my mother in saying = abhi toh mera sooner ka samay hai, bad mei ana / abhi itna late kyu aati ho, kya tumhe pata nahi tha- ki (dad) ne bola hai aane ko? and further insulted my mother's parents on a daily basis when she was there with her saas (mother in law). Even the sisters in law never cared for my mother and only wanted to accumulate more and more money and made mom comply and compromise a lot. My mother, the one who faced this all stood happy and calm and never made a remark against them. My mother wasn't one of those who could say slurs or curses or do anything bad, she had always kept her mother's (my mother's mother) word and values. She took all their swears, tortures, abuses, manipulations and slurs like a lioness and still lived with them. For the worst, my father always sided with his mother and never gave a damn about my mother, yes of course he cared, only for the money that mom held with her and her part of a house worth crores.
From the start of their relationship to when I turned 8, my father never gave a damn about mom and more off treated her ill. Throughtout those painful years, my father missed out on his responsibilities and worked hard only and only for his mother and not mine or his dear lovely wife as he deems. He tortured my mother into love and manipulated her. Hearing all those words and even realizing that my father was such an asshole makes me tear up so bad right now, especially due to the fact that my mother used to tolerate such a donkey of man. My father being from a middle-low class family, dreamt of being someone who wants to earn a lot of money, travelled to a neighboring island near North America and worked there and even brought us there to live with him, to be honest, to serve his desires of seeing his only son and having his wife work hard in the kitchen and serve him as a maid. He has always been cheap and saved money for god knows what purpose. He placed me in a school full of Muslims just because over there Muslims used to get free and fair education. I was the only Hindu there and made me feel ashamed along with my mother because literally I HAD worn the Muslim cap (not that I am ashamed of but I feel bad since being a Hindu and for the sake of education I had to do useless bullshit). Luckily my mother fought this son of a dick and got me out of that school (I was 8 at that time and was in grade 1) and asked me if I wanted to go to India or not and well I really wanted to and so I said YES (this is literally the best decision I took for myself). I came to India and started my schooling here. Since my father was deeply hurt from my mother's decision, he literally withdrew his financial support for my mother and surprisingly even ME. Luckily I had a loving and strong uncle that payed for every single thing for me and my mother, including the 1 lakh school fee in a good and famous school in the city. Time passed and about a year, my mother fell into depression and surprisingly, it was due to my father. I suppose I had already informed you, the reader that my mother was in love with this man deeply and so much deep that she drowned herself in it. For months (3-4), my mother's health deteriorated significantly and since she was a victim of depression, her mental health was fucked to the core. She used to wait for her husband to come and meet her and would ask him extensively to come to India and take care of his family. My father manipulated her all the long the months in which she was depressed and kept on telling her that he would come and he would fix everything up and he was ready to take responsibility. The next fucking thing my mother got to know in the month of maybe March was that this son of bitch was out there in London with his entire family (my paternal aunt, uncle, grandmother, grand-aunt, cousins) having fun and enjoying his time there while my mother suffered. She was noticed to this and to be real, she fell into more depression and anxiousness. She was at the brink of losing it all and that's what I know from my memories of the past and the revision of the past from my maternal grandparents and uncles. In about a month's time, due to slipping and falling on something hard while taking a shower, my mother passed away and died an undeserved death. I was informed of her death soon and even shown her body right in front of my own eyes lying lifelessly. During the time of death and everything, my maternal aunts and grandma only came JUST to take me and not give a damn. Thanks to my brave grandfather and uncle (maternal), they made them leave the area of the house and swore to never leave me in their hands. My grandma tells me how my mother used to say that - Ma agar mei nahi rahungi toh tu mere (my nickname) ko sambhal le gi na? My father took his time of about a month and came to India and asked my grandparents and uncles to hand me over to him. Well he brought NGOs and god sake even the police but luckily the court was in our ball and we easily got out of all the bullshit he did. He even went on far as saying - Mei aapne (my nickname (godsake he never even uses my original name for real)) ko lekar jaaunga aur court mei bhi jaana hoga toh jaunga aapne (my nickname) ke liye. Baap hu mei uska. Luckily, things cooldown between them since my father realized that he can't file a case or a complaint against my grandfather or else he will be fucked up since his job was on the line and getting in a police case or something would lead him to losing his PRECIOUS job. Somehow my grandparents managed to raise me well and educated me to be somewhat of a great guy. I am praised by my friends. teachers and everyone. I am a topper in my school and always worked hard and knew that I must work hard because I would constantly remind myself of how much of a dick my father was due to his terrible personality and his values and morals. i build a great moral value for myself and got inspired from Lord Shiva regarding how I should see the world and act on anything.
Now 10 years later, this son of a bitch comes to India and thinking that my father has changed, my grandparents allow me to meet this guy and live with him for as long as I want. So since this was recent, I thought of making a plan for 7 days and thought of like living well with him and maybe fix our relationship (I seriously don't know why I did that, maybe because I missed having a father and maybe I was left all alone and needed someone close and near). So then I went to his house, stayed with him, got on a trip with him and his sister that seemed to have changed and was supportive of me, came back home and now at my maternal home. For real, the shit I had to deal with him for the past 3-4 days was insane and absurd for a father. This guy has no sense of planning, literally made the trip out of nowhere, got me on a local train in the workers class where everything was a chaos and people were swearing and getting vulgar and stuff (guys let me inform you, this guy earns about 2000+ USD in an neighbouring country that charges less tax and offers him plenty of benefits) (somehow I managed to get him and myself out on the stop before our destination and get a Taxi to that place), then got us a cheap hotel that was terrible and worst in all sense, made us cheaply travel destinations IN ONE CAR (we were literally 6-7 people) that was of the size to accommodate barely 4-5 people MAX. Now this guy asks me to come back with him and live with him. How the fuck can I say yes to this guy now. And so after all the emotional blackmail this guy tried to use on me, I left in a hurry and just didnt say a word to him. Thanks to shiva, I was able to keep my composure and calmness and carried myself throughout the madness of the trip.
There are a LOT of things more that I can mention in this post but I think it will be WAY WAY to long for someone to read. I am sorry if you, the reader to read this long but I had to explain the most part of the long bullshit I had to deal with.
The help I need from you all is that, how can I say no to this guy and end our relationship PEACEFULLY and have me start a new life with my goals and ambitions.

“Oh my God! It’s really him!”
Even before I turned around, I was sure that those shrill teenage voices were talking about me. I just couldn’t understand why. I wasn’t famous; I’d never done anything important in my life, and it had been a long time since I’d been in high school myself. The three girls were leaning over the glass barrier on the second floor of the mall, pointing at me with their hands over their mouths like they’d just seen a celebrity. When they realized that I’d spotted them, they ran giggling into the crowd, leaving me with an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach: what was all that about?
The sense of wrongness I felt only deepened as I walked into the store that I’d come to the mall to visit. Maybe it was just lingering discomfort from what had just happened, but I’d swear I felt eyes on the back of my neck as I walked down the aisles. Some of the other customers were staring too, I was sure of it–and that wasn’t all. Once my eyes had adjusted to the dim light inside the store, I realized that there was a chubby guy in dark clothing standing near the back exit of the store…recording me.
“Hey!” I shouted, but he was already gone, disappearing through the access door into the guts of the mall. I reminded myself that I was here to buy a teddy bear for my four-year-old niece–not chase some weirdo through a restricted area–and let him go.
“You alright?” the woman at the cash register asked when she saw my face.
“Yeah, it’s just…” I waved my hand vaguely.
“Oh yeah, I getcha. All the crazies come out of the woodwork this time of year. Before you came again, I had to break up two grown men who were fighting over a stuffed alligator. You believe that?”
I shook my head. Ordinarily, I avoided the mall like the plague at this time of year. The crowds and repetitive holiday music got on my nerves, but I’d promised my niece I’d get her a blue teddy bear from this specific store. Why she wanted that specific gift was a mystery to me, but toddlers aren’t known for their logic. The cashier scanned my card, frowned, then scanned it again.
“Says it’s blocked,” she grunted, and handed my plastic back to me with a suspicious look. “There are some ATMs on the second floor…if you’re able to withdraw cash, that is.” Her judgmental glare told me exactly what she thought of people whose cards got declined…and people who wasted her time.
As I fought my way through the sea of holiday shoppers, a preteen kid ran up to me and tossed a styrofoam cup of hot chocolate onto my chest.
“Did you get that?” he yelled over his shoulder at his friend, who snapped a photo and nodded. The pair of them were gone before I had time to get a good look at their faces, much less try to stop them. Wondering what the hell was wrong with people, I wiped off my ruined sweater and hurried to the ATMs.
The glowing blue screen in front of me soon confirmed my worst fears. I was locked out of all my accounts, and not just banking stuff, either: I couldn’t access my email or even social media: everything was blocked. It was like the floor had just dropped out from under me. Without those little lines of code, who was I, really? Trying to shake off that gut-wrenching feeling, I pulled out my phone to contact my bank…but I was already receiving another call.
I picked up immediately, only to hear a mechanical-sounding automated message:
“Congratulations, you've been selected–”
There was something disturbing about that voice, but I had already hung up by the time I realized what it was.
Another call was coming in. The number was slightly different from the first, but when I answered, there was no mistaking it: I was listening to my own voice. Sure, the words were eerily slow and the pronunciation was off, but I was definitely listening to…myself.
“Not very polite of you to hang up on me like that, Aiden. Not when I’ve got something so special to tell you.”
I sputtered, fumbling for a reply; the whole situation was just too strange.
“W-who is this? Who am I talking to?”
“Why, this is everyone, Aiden. Everyone who has a vested interest in seeing what you’ll do next. First, though, we think you ought to change shirts. That sticky hot chocolate must be uncomfortable, and besides, yellow isn’t really your color.”
Whoever I was talking to could see what I was wearing, which meant they could see me. My eyes darted from face to face, scanning the crowd–
“There’s no one to look for Aiden. I’m everywhere. See that outlet store in front of you, Aiden? We’d like you to go in and get yourself a new holiday sweater. Oh, and since your cards are blocked, you’ll have to steal it. Well? Go ahead. We’re waiting…”
I hung up. Of course, they called back again. And again. And again. I turned off my phone and slipped it into my pocket. My heart was pounding. What the hell was going on here? The police; that was it. I just had to talk to the police, to let them know I was being harassed and stalked…but by who?
Had I made any enemies lately? There was Tim, the I.T. guy from work, who had never seemed to like me very much. He knew who I was and maybe even had access to sound bytes of my voice–but would Tim really go this far just to mess with me? I wandered in a daze past giant ornaments and chlorinated fountains full of pocket change, barely aware of where I was going–
Until a guy with a goatee stopped dead in front of me and stuck out his hand, jabbing a blindingly-bright screen into my face.
“It’s, uh, for you…” he sounded as confused as I was. “Somebody called me and said he needed to talk to the guy in the yellow shirt with the hot-chocolate stain. That’s you, right? It’s something about somebody named Kimmy.” My blood ran cold. Kimmy was my mother’s nickname! People shoved angrily past the pair of us, but I didn’t care: all my thoughts were on the familiar voice coming through the stranger’s phone.
“We’re disappointed that you’re not rising to the challenge, Aiden. We think that maybe your mother should have raised a braver boy. Thankfully, user DarkStarr85 has generously agreed to go by 415 Meadowleaf Court and teach her a lesson.”
“Listen, whoever you are,” I shouted into the phone, making a few of the shoppers surrounding me jump. “This isn’t funny. I’m going to the police, and when I find out who you are–”
“You can go to the police if you want, Aiden. But that would ruin everyone’s fun…and besides, by the time you talk to them it will already be too late for Kimmy. Come on, Aiden. Why don’t you play along?”
I fell silent. For all I knew, there was nobody waiting at my mother’s house, and this sadist who spoke with my voice was just messing with me…but what if I was wrong?
“What do you want me to do?” I sighed.
“You see the man standing in front of you? The one whose phone you’re holding? We’d like you to punch that confused expression right off of his ugly face.”
The guy with the goatee blinked at me, wide-eyed and totally unsuspecting. I clenched my hand into a fist…then lowered it.
No. I wasn’t going to play their sick little game.
I threw the guy’s phone back to him and ran toward the restrooms. I remembered seeing some pay phones back there…I would just have to hope that they still worked.
The mall had seen better days, but the restroom hallway was particularly rundown. Most of the fluorescent lights were flickery or burnt out, and there was a nasty brown puddle of something stagnating by the wall. The first payphone was covered with graffiti and the second had been practically ripped off of the wall, but the third looked like it might still work. I jammed in some quarters and punched in my mom’s number.
“Honey?” my mother asked right away when she heard my voice. “Are you alright? You sound out of breath.”
Before I could explain, I heard something in the background on my mother’s end of the line: a doorbell.
“Ma, listen: whatever you do, do NOT open that door!”
“Are you sure? They’re knocking really hard. It must be important…”
“I don’t have time to explain, just get off the phone and call the police, okay?!” I shouted.
Glass shattered. Then the line went dead. A fat, scarred finger had pressed down the receiver, cutting off my call. I turned to face the hulking figure who stood between me and escape. His head was shaved close, his teeth crooked, and beneath his fat there was a lot of muscle. A single diamond earring sparkled in his left ear. He cracked his knuckles at me and grinned: he wasn’t alone.
“H-hey!” I stammered “That call was important!”
The big guy punched me in the stomach. His friends ran up behind me, shoved me to the ground, and held me there. They didn’t speak…but one was taking a video of what was happening. The big guy sat on my chest and started smacking my face until I was seeing stars; I felt a tooth come loose.
“You right-handed or left-handed?” The big guy asked.
“Right-handed–why does that matter?” I spat blood.
“We gotta make sure you can still answer a phone call when we’re done.”
He picked his foot up and stomped on my left hand. My fingers snapped beneath his boot with a sickening popping sound, and I screamed louder than I ever had in my life.
“What’s going on down there?” A security guard stood at the end of the dingy hallway, pointing his flashlight toward us. A group of shoppers had clustered there to watch the one-sided “fight.”
“You upload the video?” The big guy asked. His friend nodded. “We don’t get paid unless the video goes viral…”
“You three! Stop!” The guard yelled, running toward us. The big guy sighed. By the time the pudgy, middle-aged guard got close enough to realize how outmatched he was, it was too late: they were on him. Clutching my broken hand, I limped out into the crowd. No one offered to help…but I did notice that a few people were recording.
My head was reeling, and not just from my injuries. The whole situation was just too insane. Someone had stolen my name and voice…and they were paying people to torture me! I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when I staggered out into the chilly parking lot and found that my car's tires had been slashed. That wasn’t the worst of it, either.
Some instinct, some primal fear, made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. When I turned around, I saw three familiar figures scanning the parking lot…searching for me. I didn’t like to think about what they might have in mind for Round Two.
I ducked and crept along behind the cars until I reached the line of trees that marked the border of the mall parking lot. On the other side was a service road: it was a mostly-abandoned strip of warehouses and boarded-up stores that ran alongside the highway. At the far end, I could see the glittering lights of a bus station. It might be my last chance to get home and get help.
I was halfway down the service road before I regretted my decision. I had tried several more times to call the police, but my phone was blocked by more of those awful calls, proposing more sick “tasks” for me:
“You’ve made us angry, Aiden. If you don’t want any more broken bones, you’ll walk out onto that highway, take off your clothes and start dancing–”
I hung up. The sound of the wind blowing through those desolate chain-link fences made me feel very alone…but I wasn’t. Someone was following me. They walked faster when I walked faster, slowed down when I slowed down, and never let me out of their sight. From the way they held their phone at their waist, facing me, I felt sure that they were recording me.
I had had enough. The stress of the whole nightmarish day had pushed me to a breaking point, and I don’t think I could have stopped myself if I wanted to. I turned and charged. It was the last thing my stalker had expected, and when they dropped their phone and ran, I realized that I recognized the figure: it was the chubby guy from the toy store, the one who I’d noticed filming me! I shouted after him, but he was already gone, snagging his leg on barbed wire as he sprinted across a construction site. I didn’t have the energy to pursue him…but I did have his phone.
When I picked it up from the sidewalk, I saw my own face staring back at me from the cracked screen. The picture was one I’d never seen before, one that I didn’t even know had been taken.
“Aiden Fisk,” read the caption, “what will he do next?” A video-clip played: a replay of everything that had happened so far. Grainy footage of me panicking in front of the ATM, being doused in hot chocolate, getting my arm broken…and walking nervously down the abandoned service road. Which meant…they knew where I was. As the video ended, the App opened: an app that was all about…me.
There were polls about what should happen to me, what I should be made to do next, and what my punishment should be if I failed. The more gruesome options, it seemed, were always the most popular. In another section, users could use cryptocurrency to bet on what I would do and track my location in real time. I was zooming in on my own location when a call came into the stranger’s phone.
“Hello again, Aiden.” My own voice said to me when I answered.
“Why are you doing this to me?!” I yelled into the receiver.
“You’re our entertainment, Aiden! You’re famous. You should be grateful. Now for your next task–”
I flung the phone away like it burned me. The lights of the bus station twinkled at the end of the service road, close yet far away at the same time. The road narrowed, becoming a one-lane alley between two construction sites, and the sidewalk disappeared. I hadn’t seen any cars so far, but I could hear the rumbling of an engine approaching behind me.
My shadow stretched out ahead, illuminated by a pair of rapidly-closing-in headlights. I waved, trying to make my presence known, but the driver didn’t stop; they didn’t even slow down. A quick glance over my shoulder revealed an enormous truck. It occupied the entire road, and even if I had had time to jump, there was nowhere to go.
A low scream escaped my lips as the truck’s front bumper nudged my lower back. I staggered, sure that I was done for, but the driver slowed to match my pace. They kept the so close that I could feel the heat of the motor, egging me on, forcing me to run faster and faster–
They could crush me beneath those huge tires anytime they felt like it, and they knew it. Was this my next punishment? I could imagine the app tracking my pace, people betting on how far I’d get before my legs or lungs gave out, and on which parts of me would shatter when I inevitably got run over. Up ahead, the road narrowed even more: dead bushes in concrete islands had been placed in front of the bus station as someone’s idea of landscaping. They didn’t add much beauty to the place, but if I jumped into them, the truck wouldn’t risk following me over the barrier…probably. I still wasn’t sure just how far these people would go for that sadistic app, but I had no choice but to take the risk.
My feet left the asphalt; branches cut into my arms and face as I crashed through to the other side, but the squeal of the truck’s brakes behind me was music to my ears. The bus lot was well lit. A few older men stood in a circle, smoking, while a young woman took her fussy toddler for a walk around the parking lot. The driver idled behind me, probably thinking the same thing I was: that there were a lot more witnesses here than on the service road.
By the time I got to my feet and looked back over my shoulder, the truck was just a pair of anonymous tail lights disappearing into the night. I wiped my scraped palms on my jeans and walked toward the station lights, wondering how much more of this I could take.
No one in the bus station seemed to be playing the app’s twisted game; in fact, no one looked up at me at all when I walked across the grimy tile floor toward the schedule board. The station was about to close: the next bus to my neighborhood wasn’t until six-thirty the next morning, and I had a nasty feeling that my “followers” would have caught up to me by then. My only option was to borrow someone’s phone and hope that I could call for help before the app found me.
Everyone I spoke to turned me down, and I could understand why. I was crazy-eyed and desperate, covered with scratches, and my broken hand had swollen to twice its normal size. I was about to give up when I felt a tap on my shoulder. The homeless man's clothes were in rags; his vomit-flecked gray beard hung down almost to his waist. The smell hit me like a wall, and it was hard to keep from gagging. He pressed something into my hand: a burner phone.
“It’s got one call left,” he grunted. “A whole minute. Good luck, pal. You look like you need it even more than I do.” He lurched back out into the dark before I could even say ‘thank you.’
Weighing the battered phone in my hand, I wondered who I should call. I doubted the police would get here in time; my mother wasn’t answering, and my best friend Sam was out of town on business. That left…Dani, my ex. She lived nearby, and besides, it was the only other number I knew by heart…even though I wished that I could have forgotten it.
Dani's voice was huskier than I remembered, but she picked up right away. The first words out of her mouth were the last thing I would have expected:
“Thank God. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for hours!”
She rushed into a story about how people had been calling and messaging her all day…people who were looking for me. She said it sounded like they wanted to hurt me. One even offered to pay her to seduce me and film the result. She had something to tell me, she said, but my minute was almost up. I had just enough time to tell her my location and beg her to come pick me up. There was a long silence: before she could answer, the line went dead.
I looked around. There was no longer anyone in the bus station to ask for a phone call: in fact, there was no longer anyone in the bus station at all. Metal shutters had been lowered over the ticket window and the vending machine area; the waiting room was empty apart from a discarded scarf that dangled sadly from a ripped-up seat.
Somewhere in the depths of the station came a loud SLAM, and the flickering fluorescent lights began to go out ,one by one. Maybe it was just the standard closing procedure, maybe it had nothing to do with me–but I wasn’t going to wait around to find out. I approached the nearest glass door, then jumped back as a figure wearing a white plastic mask slammed their shoulder into the door. They pushed at the door like a rabid animal, trying to get at me–
But it had already been locked when the station closed.
Furious, the stranger took out a hammer and swung it into the glass. Fractures appeared, and I wasn’t going to wait around for the door to shatter. I fled in the opposite direction, through the one remaining exit and out into the night.
I think part of me already knew what I’d find waiting for me, and that’s why I wasn’t surprised by the small group of masked individuals waiting just beyond the streetlights. All of them held glowing phone screens in their hands, and a few held weapons as well. I spotted lengths of chain…a baseball bat…a gutting knife…
As they started toward me, a car drifted into the empty parking lot, its tires squealing. Dani threw open the passenger-side door and shouted at me to get in.
She peeled out as I slammed the door shut. Her car was just as dirty as I remembered: fast-food bags on the floor, makeup kit crammed into the door tray, half-drunk coffee mugs in every cup holder. It had always struck me as funny that such a well-regarded scientist could be so disorderly.
After an awkward silence as we merged onto the highway, Dani told me that it was over–or at least, she hoped it was. As we sped through the night, she did her best to explain what she thought had happened.
Dani’s work (or at least, as much of it as I understood) involved using artificial intelligence. When we were together, we had made a lot of jokes about Terminator and Hal-9000, but her research had never seemed sinister…at least, not until recently. Her most recent project was an A.I. that designed phone applications. She had built it to maximize profits and interaction: to identify what people wanted, and give it to them.
To her horror, Dani discovered that the A.I. had begun operating outside of its parameters–even accessing her personal files in its endless quest for a better product. She figured that was where it had found my image, voice, and other information. After analyzing trends across time, the A.I. had determined that there was nothing people enjoyed more than participating anonymously in the suffering of others: I was its first test subject, simply because it had found my data first.
The A.I., Dani added quickly, wasn’t really to blame. It was people who had chosen to interact with it, download it, and make my life a living hell. It had done nothing more than fulfill its function, encouraging whatever behavior that got the most views and likes. Once Dani had realized what was happening, she had shut the A.I. down…or tried to.
It had apparently already spread itself to other networks–although “spread” wasn’t the word that Dani used. The word she used was “infected.” As Dani dropped me off at home, she told me not to worry: her organization would “almost certainly” take care of it, and I “probably” had nothing to worry about…
But just in case, she asked me to spread the word:
If you notice people staring at you or taking pictures of you in public…
If you find yourself locked out of your accounts, or if you receive a barrage of strange messages…
You might be next.