#ipbb

[fandomsofhope]

Sam Aesthetic - I Put the Bi in Bitter, directed by Marin Lepore, on sadgirlproductions.

[blainey-anders0n-blog]

I'm prisoned but believing | Blaine

Blaine's eyes turned over to the sleeping form of his brother, and he whined softly. He'd been so good; it made Blaine proud. Everett was the stronger of the two, that much Blaine was pretty sure of. He was able to lie about what he liked, he was able to sit there and get told he was sick and not respond negatively, just to get the benefits. Blaine couldn't do that. They'd mention vaginas, and Blaine would go on a rant about how awesome penis was. It got him hurt, and Jesus Fuck did it hurt, but he couldn't say it. He couldn't lie about liking something. So he settled with being hurt, the electric shock, and so on and so forth. He didn't tell Everett, though he was sure he knew, but Blaine hadn't eaten since they'd gotten there. He'd pretend, but he normally just spun his food around. When he tried, he ended up getting sick. That, and he wasn't allowed food because of misbehavior.

Rubbing at his eyes, Blaine noted that he needed to work on his sleeping patterns. He'd sleep a couple of hours before waking up and staring at the ceiling for the remainder of the night. He was surprised, though, when the door to their room was opened, and Blaine glanced over, not bothering to pretend to be sleeping. It was his least favorite worker, and they made a motion for him to come here, so Blaine dragged himself out of bed, going to his drawer and sliding on gray sweatpants to match his white v-neck. It wasn't the most fashionable he's ever dressed, but it's the best he can do, given his situation. He moved past the worker and followed him. "We're going to re-evaluate you, like we did the first day." the worker told him, and Blaine felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He hadn't actually talked to the therapist since that day, and when he had he'd been sent to his first thing of electro-shock therapy. Blaine didn't reply, crossing his arms over his chest. "You'll miss breakfast, did you want to eat now?" he asked, to which Blaine shook his head. It was like they were already plotting his downfall.

"I do want water, though," he said, keeping his gaze cast down. The worker glanced at him, before sighing and going to get him a bottle of water, handing it to him before leading him towards the therapy center. He opened the bottle and sipped at it slowly, not wanting to down it all and hurt his empty stomach. When they reached the office he sat in the uncomfortable blue chair across from the desk, waiting for the therapist to come in. It was a female, which Blaine assumed was to put him moreso around woman. It didn't help that the staff was filled of mostly men. And even then, there were male therapists, Blaine just never got around one. There was an awkward stare down between the two, before the therapist looked away.

"I'm Miranda Marquez, but you can call me Miranda. I'm going to be your therapist for the day, and according to your file you know how the procedure goes. Blaine, you've done absolutely no progression since your stay here, and if anything it looks like you're degressing. What's the reasoning behind it all? Do you enjoy losing priveledges, not being able to interact with anybody else? Do you like the electric shock you're given?" She sat with her shoulders back, looking stiff as a board. It was unnerving.

Blaine gave her the first bitchface of the night, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Definitely, it gets me going. Just the thought of the shocks running through my body. Hot damn." The words were said with a lack of emotion that bothered Blaine. "The reasoning is that I'm gay, and losing food, sleep, brain cells, dignity, isn't going to change that. I'm going to leave here enjoying the same amount of cock I've always enjoyed. In fact, I'm probably going to leave here and go have sex with my boyfriend."

There was a darkening look in the therapist's eyes, and Blaine glanced down at his hands, knowing that mouthing off only resulted in him getting in trouble. He just couldn't let them get away with this, and then get their way. If what he'd read last night was true, Cooper would get them out soon enough, and they'd be okay, they'd go home and live somewhere else and never have to worry about it. Blaine scratched at his arm, doing so until it started to hurt. The small amount of pain made Blaine feel more grounded in this sense. Where he could stand his ground without problem. 

"You realize you're the reason your brother's here, right? Your father gave us details on it, and you're the reason he's sick. You spread your disease to him and now he's here, because of you. Saying things like this only further proves our point that you're incredibly sick and need the most help."

Blaine kept his gaze leveled, and shook his head. "I'm not sick, and neither is Everett. You are all the sick ones, mentally, you're all disgusting humans who can't stand to see someone else happy. Who cares what I like so long as I'm not flaunting it in your face? And when I do, it's because you're telling me that it's wrong when it isn't. You don't have to understand it, nor like it, but it doesn't change the fact that it's what I do. Some people don't like pizza, should they get shocked until they admit they like it?" 

The therapist sighed, her face turning into a genuine sadface. "Blaine, you aren't making this easy on yourself. You aren't gay, you're sick, you don't like penis, you're delusional. You don't know what you want, you're just a kid. You're socially unacceptable, and all around disgusting on multiple levels, you're abnormal and people like you shouldn't exist. Which is why we do, to make sure that you can get better, so you don't have to go away permanently. You aren't making this easier on us. I'm upping your electric shock by a couple notches, maybe that'll help." 

Blaine let out a helpless whimper, but bit the inside of his cheek to stop from begging for her not to. It wouldn't stop anything, he just hoped that it wouldn't hurt too much. He didn't really see the purpose of it, it just hurt. Was physical pain supposed to stop anything? Blaine had been bullied, beaten up, shoved into lockers, and slushied more times he could count, but it never changed who he was, it merely reinforced it. "You realize that you're doing nothing but hurting your electricity bill, right? It's not going to stop me from loving who I love, and liking the gender I like." He bit his bottom lip, staring at the water bottle in his hand. 

"No, but maybe it'll save you from your head." She replied, writing something down in his file. Unable to resist the urge, he held the bottle up moreso and stared at her. 

"And maybe this'll help your head." He muttered before throwing the bottle directly at her head, hearing the impact before he saw it. She cursed, and dialed a number on the phone, asking for security and blah blah. Blaine wasn't a threat to her, but she seemed to think so. There was a thump of some sort, and Blaine glanced towards the door, watching as two men came in, one with a needle, and the other Blaine presumed was for moral support. He didn't struggle when they injected some form of drug in him, remembering what Everett had said was a side effect. His vision blurred and he blinked profusely, watching as the therapist walked over in front of him and slapped him. He felt the impact, but not the pain, and he rubbed at his face absently. "Bitch," he said, his eyes closing as he felt someone pull him out of the seat, and whisking him off to God knows where.

Blaine woke up what he presumed was a few hours later, his body hurting moreso than usual, and his body strapped down to a bed, the restraints far too tight. It wasn't a surprise when he couldn't see all that well, and he heard talking but wasn't replying. Everything felt funny and he didn't know what was going on. Sure, it became a bit obvious when there was that feeling of being on fire going through his entire body, his hands shaking. He couldn't say anything, or rather wouldn't.

It didn't take long for him to pass out from the pain, anyway.