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what-the--curtains · 3 years

Text

In a Week

Part 2/4 - The Importance of Being Idle

(Frankie Morales x f!reader)

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Summary: Things get easier between you and Frankie as the storm outside rages on.

Authors notes: Hello! Sorry this took so long (I forgot I had a lab report due this week so I was busy panic writing 6000 words the patient few days!) anyways this is soft makes my heart happy 🥺 thank u for all the support in the story💕💕

Tw: Swearing, dead sibling mentioned (I think that’s all)

Work count: 4.9k

Tagged: @agingerindenial @icanbeyourjedi

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Day 2

You don’t know when,or how it happened, but sometime during the night you had found your way over to the heat being emitted from human furnace Frankie Morales. Your limbs were wrapped lazily around him, with your leg over his and your arm resting idly on his chest. You blink into the light emitting a dissatisfied grumble realizing you had woken up. You hear a sigh from above and with one eye still closed, you tilt your head up to see Frankie currently hyper focused on winning whatever game he was playing on his phone.

"You could have woken me up you know.” You say, detaching from him and rolling over onto your back rubbing your eyes. “How long have you been awake?" you ask, yawning.

"Few hours, you’re quite the sleeper, slept through all 4 alarms that went off." He responds, still fixated on his phone.

"Shit, sorry about that. My mother used to say I could sleep for England" you state, earning a soft chuckle from the man beside you. Even after years of working on hospital hours, waking up was always a struggle for you, no matter the time of day. After a few moments of contemplating whether you really had to move, you rip off the covers and scoot out of bed. Tearing open the curtains you let out a dissatisfied groan when you see a snowscape where the parking lot once was. You turn around arms crossed, eyes glazed over inadvertently boring into him. You hear him say something but it doesn't register.

“What?” you ask, shaking yourself from the trance and moving towards your over packed bag to retrieve clean clothes.

“Nothing.” he says, eyes back on his phone. You raise your eyebrows and head into the bathroom to get changed, emerging in sweats and a vintage band shirt that you’d tied at the waist.

"The clash? Nice." Frankie says, as he passes by you into the bathroom, closing the door.

"Ya London Calling" you respond sitting down on the bed and pulling on some socks, not fully listening to what he had said. "I’m going to ask the front desk if we can renew the room, doesn't look like we're going anywhere anytime soon. I can see if there's another one available if you don’t wanna share" You say, when you hear the doors lock click open, knowing he may still be mad at you for not pulling over sooner.

"I mean I don't mind sharing, unless you’d be more comfortable..." he starts, mouth hanging open downturned slightly, as he rinses his hands.

“I’m fine sharing, nice to have some company plus it's cheaper this way.” you say, grabbing the room key off the nightstand.

"Let me know how much it is, I'll pay half" he says, stretching out his back, cursing the mattress for being too soft.

"I feel like you should be paying more since you get the good half of the bed.” you offer, pointing your finger at him.

“I think they call that extortion,” he says, grinning “Oh, see if they have any food while you're down there I’m starving” he calls as you exit into the hallway and make your way downstairs.

“Hey, I was looking to re-book the room from last night” you say to the receptionist who you recognized from last night. Suppose she got stuck here as well, you wonder if she’d gotten any sleep.

“For how many more nights?” she asks.

“How long do you think this storm is going to last?” You ask.

“At least a few more days, but then the roads will have to be cleared, so maybe a week? We can book you in for two more nights then go from there though, no one else will be coming in”

“That’d be great,” you say, taking out your credit card. “What about food, is there any way we can get some stuff to make sandwiches or something?” you ask

“Well the culinary staff was trapped here by the storm, another reason why so many rooms were booked, so they’ll be able to have food sent up.” You nod, the hotel was upscale and you hated to think how expensive the food was going to be, but what choice did you have?

“It's past breakfast, but we may have some spare sandwiches leftover, let me just go check.” she offers, returning a few minutes later with a couple of boxes.

“Thank you so much!” you say taking the boxed up food from her.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“Oh yes” you say, “booze, can I buy that here?”

“That, we have plenty of!” she smiles.

~~~~~

You re-enter the room with the boxed up breakfasts, a case of beer and two bottles of wine

“Here food” you say, sliding the boxes off the beer and onto the counter next to the fridge.“We missed breakfast, so it’s probably cold, and I booked the room for another two nights, but we can go from there” you say, reiterating the receptionist's words as you place the drinks in the fridge.

“Planning on sharing that or?” he laughs watching you strategically maneuver the booze into the fridge

“Hey, I get a week off work, I'm going to be drinking. Do I wish it was on a beach in sunny south Carolina? Yes, but this will have to do, and I hate drinking alone so congratulations you’ve just been conscripted” You say, as he empties out one of the breakfasts onto a plate placing it in the microwave for a few minutes.

“Here. Do you want this? You say peeling the sliced ham off your sandwich” waving it infront of his face.

“Not a fan of ham?” he asks, taking it and adding it into his own.

“Not a fan of meat in general, I’m a vegetarian”

“Course you are.” he laughs.

“Bold words coming from a guy wearing a baseball hat inside, in the middle of winter” you say, throwing a balled up napkin at his head.

“So what exactly do you do? Santi never said.” he asks, leaving you to question what Santiago had said about you.

“I’m a doctor, well almost a doctor one more year of residency, hopefully” you say, crossing your fingers.

“Shit, aren’t you kinda young to be a doctor?” he asks, looking you up and down with raised eyebrows.

“Older than I look, but thank you. How about you?”

“I was a pilot, me and Pope served together for a while, but I’m mainly just teaching now. How’d you two meet by the way? I’ve never seen you round base before, I’m sure I’d remember you hanging around” he says.

“He basically lived at my house growing up, well until he went into the military when I was in middle school. ”

“I thought you said you weren’t young” he laughs “So you didn't serve?”

“No, my brother did though, he was a few years older than Santi but they were inseparable.” you state, preparing yourself for the imminent conversation.

“Who?” Frankie asks, slightly offended that Pope had a secret best friend he never introduced to him.

“His name was Parker '' you say, hoping the past tense clues Frankie in.

“Ya I’ve met Parker! Good guy what branch is he in these days?” he says, not picking up on your word selection or how your mouth hangs slightly ajar or how your eyes have gone vacant.

“Was in” is all you say, you avert your gaze staring down at the floor “he passed five years ago in active duty”

“Shit, I’m sorry I…” he stumbles over his words trying to form a coherent sentence.

“Not your fault how were you supposed to know, besides I'm sure you’ve lost your fair share of people.” you say offering him a not very convincing, but reassuring smile. You let the awkwardness hang in the air, not wanting to speak first.

“What... kind of doctor are you?” he says, hoping to cut the tension he’d caused.

“Medical, diagnostics.” you say, exhaling as the easiness you felt around Franki came back.

“So like House?” He asks.

“Ya cane and all.” you laugh, his lopsided grin having returned to his face, as he leans in to grab your plate.

“Hey, I uh.. I need to make a phone call.” He says, washing the dishes in the sink.

“I'll make myself scarce, give you some privacy. Is it fine if I'm in the shower or did you want me to fully vacate the premise? I can go down to the gym for a bit.” you offer.

“Showers perfect.” He says, mentally questioning his word choice there. He waits to hear the water run before pulling out his phone and dialing his mother who was currently watching his daughter for what was only supposed to be a few days.

You let the water wash over you turning on some music to drown out the conversation Frankie was having, not wanting to pry on his personal life. You did find yourself wondering who he was calling just simple curiosity, nothing else. You had decided you liked Frankie despite the rocky start, the more time you spent with him the more you felt like you'd known him for years. You could see why he and Santiago got along so well they were two sides of the same coin, his calm nicely balancing out Santiago's rashness. Or should you call him Pope? What kind of nickname was that, and Santiago was anything but a saint. You made a mental note to ask Frankie for the origin stories later he may be more forthcoming about it than Santiago. Lathering your hair you close your eyes, allowing Frankie’s image to come to the forefront of your mind. He had an old beauty, a kind of beauty that was suited to a ruler of a long forgotten empire. You begin to feel the water run cold, had you really been in the shower that long? You turn off the tap and dry yourself off redonning your sweats and tying the Clash shirt into a crop. As you exit the bedroom you’re met at the door by Frankie who hands you a cup of coffee.

“Thanks” you say smiling up at him.

“Take it as an apology for being an ass yesterday, I was tired and shouldn’t have thrown a tantrum about it, you don’t control the weather”

“Well I guess I should apologize as well for not listening to you, especially considering you’re the one with training in navigating radars.”

The rest of the day is spent in relative silence breaking into conversation every once in a while about nothing in particular. You sit on the couch reading while he sits in the chair across from you book in hand as the news plays faintly in the background. The storm had been dubbed “snowmageddon” by the anchors, not particularly innovative but it got the point across, 20cm had fallen and another 30 was being predicted you groaned internally thinking about how long it was gonna take you to clear off your car. At least you'd have military help. Dinner comes and goes and he doesn't ask you many questions, unsurprising considering how the last conversion had turned out. Instead you tell him about the weirdest cases you’d ever seen come through the hospital and he tells you about the incidents that got him and Santi sent to the hospital.

“Alright I'm going to turn in” he says, as you look up from the rabbit hole you'd currently found yourself stuck in.

“Shit ya good call” you say closing your phone and rubbing your eyes. Once again he beats you to the bed, giving him a prime position to watch in amusement as you dig through your bag.

“Lost something? Seriously, how deep is that bag? What are you looking for?” he inquires.

“Normal pyjamas” you mutter, all concentration currently being used to find something appropriate to sleep in.

“What pray tell are normal pyjamas?” he asks, a confused look plastered across his face.

“Let's just say a certain king of sleepwear was packed for someone who was suppose to be at the wedding”

“Who?” he asks.

“Ah ha!” you cry victoriously, pulling out your day-to-day sleepwear. You exit the bathroom in the silk sleep set you’d gotten a few years back. Frankie’s eyes widen slightly when he sees you emerge, the pyjamas leaving little to the imagination. If those were your normal pyjamas he didn't want to think about what the other ones were. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable by coming off as a creep. Which he was already feeling like by ogling you as you bent over the sink spitting out your toothpaste. His eyes dart down to look at his hands as you walk around the bed to bed, only looking up once the covers are pulled up over you. He turns off the lamp and settles into the mattress, placing his hands on his chest and closing his eyes.

“Please for the love of god, stop moving” he mumbles after 15 minutes of patiently waiting for you to stop wriggling. Your eyes open as you shift again, completely aware of how annoying you must be to him.

“I know I'm sorry, I‘m just..” you move one more time, balling your fists up and slamming them into the mattress in frustration.

“Not comfy” he finishes for you, eyes opening staring up at the ceiling.

“Ya especially since someone took my side of the bed” you bemoan.

“Look, you’ve already slept wrapped around me once, so you can... do it again. If it’s the easiest way for you to sleep.” he says hoping the offer comes off as sincere, and not weird. You chew your lower lip for a second before accepting the fact that it was the only way you’d be able to sleep. He lifts his arms above his head allowing you to position yourself comfortably on top of him, before lowering them down. One hand on his stomach and the other wrapped around your shoulder.

“Don’t even think about trying...” you start, eyes batting sleepily up at him.

“I know you don’t know me well, but i'm not like that. It's not good or fun unless everyones fully and consensually on board.” With that you ease into him, trusting his words. Breathing deeply you drift off to sleep to the smell of clean laundry that you’d come to associate with Frankie.

Day 3

“Hey I'm going to the gym if you need to make a call or whatever” you say, pulling on your sneakers, feeling refreshed from the good sleeps you’d had the past two nights.

“Thanks,” he says, watching you leave before calling to check in on his daughter.

“Hey mom how is she? Good good ya, put her on would ya? Hey darling how are you! Yes I'm going to be home soon. Were just stuck in a big snow storm, did you see it? I wish you were here then we could build a snowman together! Yes just like Elsa and Anna. Yes we can watch them when I get home and absolutely I will try and save you a snowball. Alright, okay, I love you.” He says, a few minutes was more than he’d expected from the kid, toddlers aren’t known for their keen telecommunication skills after all.

“Hey mom, thanks again for watching her. This storm came outta nowhere. We're going to miss the wedding, I know they’re gonna be pissed. That’s not a swear Mom! No, I'm not alone. One of Santis friends she's a doctor. Yes, I mean I don’t know! Why does it matter? Look, I'm hanging up now. I am. No I won't be doing that I love you, I'll call later.” he hangs up shaking his head. Despite what everyone around him thought, the last thing on his mind was dating, his kid was his number one, scratch that, his only priority especially since her mother disappeared in the night. Leaving nothing but a note about having other reasons to live. Whatever the hell that meant. He hears the key unlock the door and watches as you re-enter, not stopping to make conversation, bee-lining straight for the shower. Knowing he’d have a good half hour to kill he dials his phone again.

“Hey Pope” he says, taking the opportunity to call his friend and deliver the bad news.

“Hey ‘Fish where the hell are you guys?” he shouts from the other end, evidently in a crowded room.

“Trapped by the storm, we're not gonna make it.”

“Shit Gen’s gonna lose it, and Stella if it wasn’t for her four sisters Y/N would be in the wedding party they were roommates for years.” He stresses.

“Damn, ya man i'm really sorry, she's in the shower, but I can pass the phone to her when she's out?” Frankie offers.

“No man, don't bother her. I'll text her in a bit. Hey you guys sharing a room?” he questions, the agenda behind it obvious.

“Wasn’t much of a choice, rooms were all booked up.”

“You're sleeping on the floor I hope” A protective tone taking over.

“You know my back’s bad Pope.” he explains calmly, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

“Catfish you better keep those hands to yourself, she's not one of your nightly conquests”

“Man I haven’t been like that since my kid came along” He chuckles, knowing full well that those days were long behind him.

“I'm a serious ‘Fish, she's too good for you, and she's in no place to be fucked over by another guy alright?”

“Look I know she'd never go for me Pope and I'm flattered you think she would. Glad i'm still handsome in your eyes.I’ll call you later” he laughs, ending the conversation on a lighter note.

“Hey” you say, pulling your Boston University sweater over your head, drying out your hair with a towel.

“Pope says hi” Frankie says, hanging up the phone

“What's the nickname mean?” you question, ready to get to the bottom of it.

“That's top secret information” he taunts, shaking the phone at you.

“Oh I'm sure I could figure out a way to get it out of you.” you smirk, raising your eyebrows

“Hey! I have military training!” he exclaims, offended at the insinuation.

“Militarys got nothing on me.” you retort, slapping him on the shoulder as you pass by.

“Well, if the plan is to ply me with alcohol, it may just work” he confesses.

“Perfect” you say, heading to the fridge opening up the wine bottle “let the games begin” you say tossing him a beer bottle watching as he uses a lighter to open it before bringing it to his lips.

“So tell me what does Pope mean?” you ask after a few hours of meaningless conversations and playing a drinking game that went along with the forensic files repeats you were watching. “Is it a dick thing” you whisper yell, causing Frankie to burst out laughing.

“Why? You wanna know what it looks like?” He asks forehead creased the trace of laughter still etched on his face.

“Ew No! but I am asking if it looks like a Pope?” you say trying to hide your amusement with a stern look.

“Which Pope?” Frankie asks in an equally serious tone, curious as to where you were going with this.

“Francis?” you ask.

“Nope” He answers after pausing for a moment.

“Fred?” You ask, now entrapped in a bizarre game of guess who, but in reference to what holy figure most resembled your friends penis.

“Was there a Pope named Fred?” He asks unsuccessfully, stifling a laugh.

“Probably? There were like three Popes at once at one point in time.”

“No his dick doesn't look like the Pope, now can we please stop talking about my best friend's penis!” he exclaims.

“Fine, but this isn’t over.” you say chewing your lip trying to think of other possible explanations when a phone ringing interrupts you thought.

“Shit, Sorry I have to take this,'' he says, pulling out his phone and walking to the next room, forgetting to close the door, leaving you to inadvertently eavesdrop on his conversation.

“Good night sweety I love you to the moon and back I'll be home soon.”

Your eyes go wide as you feel your stomach sink, of course he was married, he was too nice, too easy, something had to have been off. A ick comes over you at the thought of being unknowingly draped over a married man, and you suddenly begin questioning Frankies motives.

“Sorry about that. It's my daughter she uh, I didn’t say goodnight to her last night and she missed it” he says with a slight chuckle, pride evident on his face.

“How old is she?” you ask smiling at how he lit up at being asked about his kid.

“Three” he says, grabbing another beer and grunting slightly as he sits back on the floor next to you.

“Good age” You offer, shaking off the feeling of betrayal and disappointment that had come over you for a brief moment.

“Ya she's perfect” he beams.

“I bet, I mean I don’t know what your wife looks like, but if she's got your eyes watch out world.” You offer turning to face him only to see that his smile had faded, replaced instead by a somber hurt.

“Her mothers not in the picture” He says, clearing his throat and taking a long drink.

“Shit Frankie I'm sorry” you say quickly, feeling like a prize idiot for making assumptions about his character.

“Hey I brought up your dead brother, only seems fair you bring up my ex who abandoned us.” He says with a shrug. “Don’t, don’t look at me like that” He says, shaking his head and knitting his brows together tired of being looked at like he was broken. It was horrible when it happened. It was fucking shitty that she had left her daughter without a care, but now? Hell, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Watching his daughter grow up was worth it.

“Fuck” you say, scrunching up your face “I hate when people do that to me.”

“You need another drink?” he offers, hoping to ease the sudden awkwardness into the room, one he was accustomed to after telling his dates about his kid, not that this was a date.

“Ya I need it to wash the taste of foot out of my mouth” you laugh, feeling worse than when your brother was inadvertently brought up.

“Seriously don't worry about it. Speaking of a palette cleanser you wanna watch a movie or something?” he says pouring the rest of the wine into your glass, before grabbing another drink out the fridge for himself.

“Ya but it's gotta be horror, the only thing i'm in the mood for.”

“Didn’t think bringing up my ex was that scary.” he laughs, handing you the glass.

“No, but talking about Santiago's penis was.” You deadpan, causing Frankie to snort out his drink. “What? Do all the girls say that about it? A real nightmare?” you continue, giggling as he coughs through a laugh. “Was it the inspiration for the creature from the black lagoon?” for some reason the stupid bit your doing causes Frankie to double over subsequently encouraging your own laughing fit. After the ache in your side subsides Frankie sits down on the couch next to you. Using his sleeve to wipe any spillage from his beard.

“Any preference?” you ask, leaning your head back against the couch. He shakes his head. “Alright, the Conjuring it is! I gotta pee first though, need anything before we start?” you ask, walking towards the washroom.

“Just you.” he calls out, as the door closes behind you. Fuck, why the hell did he say that. He shakes his head at how desperate it sounded. Jesus christ, he was embarrassing.

You were just tipsy enough that the bathroom's bright lights made you feel wobbly. You cross your arms as you pee, thinking about the words you’d just heard, about how he needed you. Well maybe that was a reach, but it was okay to pretend just for a night? In all honesty, even though this wasn't a date, it was definitely the best time you'd had with a guy… ever, something about him was just so easy. You flush the toilet and open the door washing your hands, hotels were so weird, why wasn't the sink in with the toilet? You felt like you needed to wipe the handle down after every use.

You flop back onto the couch next to him, closer than you’d been when you left, but leaving enough space between you. After a few jump scares that catch even the pilot off guard the two of you found yourself snuggled into each other. You knew the movie was getting to him, because the arm wrapped around your shoulder pulled you closer into his side whenever the ominous music began to play. He wouldn't say the movie was getting to him per say, it was just in his nature to protect others. Even if it was just a stpid movie he wanted to make sure you felt safe. After the movie ends you quickly separate from each other and clear up the glasses, leaving them to ‘soak’ overnight. Frankie gets to the bathroom first, again. Thirsty, you wander back out to the kitchen grabbing a glass and filling it with water jumping when you think you see a shadow move out the corner of your eye. It was strange, how you loved horror so much while watching it but the second it turned off, any sounds, or hat rack or shadow scared the living daylights out of you. At least this time there would be another person with you. After getting ready for bed you switch off the lights and make your way to the bed.

“What are you doing?” Frankie asks, watching you lift up the bedskirt peering under the bed. “Are you seriously checking under the bed right now?” He laughs, unable to get over how you, a medical professional was afraid of ghosts.

“Better safe than sorry!” you exclaim eyes wide as your head pops up.

“You can't believe in this shit can you?”

“Hey man you get sleep paralysis then tell me that shit isn’t plausible” you respond pointing a finger at him, before pushing yourself off your knees and up onto the bed.

You crawl under the covers and sit up parting your hair to braid it before going to bed.

“Can I ask you a weird favour” he asks, you panic slightly, fuck he was too good to be true, no way a guy was that sweet without an alterior motive.

“Yes, but proceed with extreme caution” you say.

“Can you teach me how to braid hair? I want to be able to do my daughter's hair but I’m pretty terrible at it. Her teacher once asked if she'd gotten caught in a bush on the way in.” Your heart jumps slightly, at the sincere revelation. How, how could one guy be this sweet, and thoughtful and not creepy?

“Of course I can show you.” you say and you proceed to give him a step by step tutorial, followed by a demonstration prior to actually letting him have at your hair so he can try and replicate the motions. Once he got the motion down you’d mistakenly tried to show him how to french-braid it down from the top.

“Be honest doc, how bad is it.” He says.

“Well, maybe we shouldn't have tried a french braid quite yet.” you say laughing feeling the matted mess currently on your head. You turn upon hearing him groan, watching as he leans back into the pillow bringing his hands up to hide his face.

“For someone who's a pilot i'm shocked you can't do this.” you say, hand reaching up to salvage your hair.

“Are you judging me?” he says, sitting back up when he sees you struggling to untangle the mess he’d made.

“Maybe a little.” Your breath hitches when you feel his hand grazed against yours. You drop it to the side upon contact allowing his fingers to work gently at removing the knots.

“Are pilots supposed to be good at braiding?” he asks.

“I just assumed if you could weave in and out of the sky you'd be good with your hands.” you laugh as he frees the last of your hair from the prison he'd made. He watches as you effortlessly put your hair back up into tidy braids.

“You make it look so easy,” he says.

“Well practice makes perfect, but look on the brightside, now you have a sure fire pick up line that'll work on all the MILFs youll be dating!” you exclaim turning back to smile at him.

“Malo '' he mutters, pushing your shoulder slightly as you giggle, dramatically falling back onto the bed and pulling the covers up over you. It doesn't take a moment before you're back around him, breathing silently, and fast asleep. He wasn’t far behind you, he never used to sleep well in hotels, or at all really, not after the mission, but something about this place made it easy. He's sure it's nothing to do with the idle hand on his chest or the rhythmic beating of the heart belonging to the person draped over him.

#frankie x reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie x y/n #catfish x you #catfish x reader #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #in a week #part 2

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blindbeta · 3 years

Note

How do you think infrastructure would be different in a culture where everyone is blind?

Hi anon! I like this question. I think it would obviously depend on the culture and time period, but I have a few ideas. I’ll just try to write ideas for a general Western culture, because I am aware of more of that, but obviously the culture itself would influence what changes occurred or did not occur.

Education.

Look to blind schools! I’m thinking about training for Braille as very small children, which mostly includes strengthening finger sensitivity. Braille would also be taught the way reading regular print is, either in schools or at home. Regular print would probably also be available and large print would be normalized, especially to minimize eye strain. Computer literacy would include screen-readers and Braille displays. Websites would be designed for accessibility for everyone and this would include large for those who like to read some print.

In classes, people would use a slate and stylus, Braille notetakers, etc, depending on time and what was easier to carry. Braillers would also be more high tech in general, even if it might be considered old school, or the high tech stuff would have come sooner for each device.

Braille, O&M, and life skills classes would be normal for everyone. O&M would probably be done mostly by people with some sight, although this might change if everyone is blind anyway.

Lifestyle.

Things like telescopes (monoculars, minifiers) would be normal for low vision people, maybe even something cool like ‘oh I got the latest telescope model for my birthday!” It would be something shared with friends for fun. Something like SunuBand would be like, I don’t know, a car of something. People would show status through how cool their cane was, if they had a Sonar cane, like WeWalk, etc.

In schools, and in life, I think people with some sight, like me, would not face any pressure to use it. In real life, people with residual sight are expected to use what sight they can, even if it is inconvenient or painful.

More emphasis would be places on other sense, such as touch, smell, and soatial awareness.

Safety.

The world would probably be safer, structurally. There would be high contrast stairs everywhere, if there are stairs at all. There would be more in place that makes it safer to walk around outside, such as, idk, less of a risk of hurt yourself by stepping off a curb? I’m not even sure if roads would be designed the way they are now. Would people drive if they have some vision? Would everyone have cars that don’t need vision? Anyway, more safety with blind people in mind.

Transportation.

Transportation would be better. Maybe public transportation would be more accessible, easier to navigate, and more readily available in rural areas. Maybe trains would be more popular in every country, because they run on a schedule and you can carry more people for longer periods of time. Trains can also allow people to travel long distances, which can be harder for blind people (who almost always can’t drive, as far as I know) who can’t drive cars and may not have money for flights, or want to avoid them for environmental reasons.

Accessibility.

Braille would be everywhere. Buttons would be tactile, especially on kitchen appliances. I imagine a lot of the tools blind people use in the kitchen, such as bump dots for microwave buttons, would already be standard. Talking or otherwise accessible things would be cheaper, more common, and considered staples for everyone. Because they would be made for the wider population of blind people, accessibility would not be a niche or extra thing. It would not be associated with kindness, but a standard fare.

Clothing would be different. Designs would be tactile and/or high contrast, where they are often flat. I think colors would still be important, for everyone, but the tags would probably have labels. Some brand designed for blind people have actual Braille fabric on the clothes, which is cool. While color scanners do exist and would probably be used, I think other methods would be utilized if clothing is designed with blind people in mind from the start. Wearing glasses would be cool, you guys.

In terms of entertainment, I think most of it would audio-based or interactive. The radio and live theatre would be more popular than they are now. If visual mediums still existed, they would all come with audio descriptions and they would be better than they sometimes are now. TV would be written with audio descriptions in mind, if they didn’t talk about more of what they were doing.

Art would be tactile, period. Maybe we would have something by now that allows you to feel digital art. There are already amazing forms of tactil art out there, so think more of that from all cultures. Rather than adapted or described with the blind in mind, art would be naturally tactile even if the artist could see what they were creating well enough.

Online.

Obviously image descriptions would be everywhere, although I feel people would naturally include less screen-shots and less pictures. Again, accessibility would be a more mainstream thing than it is now. I’m thinking there would be more self-care posts, such as about dealing with eye strain headaches. Although I think some of the issues we have would be lessened when the entirety of humanity was on the blind spectrum. I’m also thinking about fun quizzes like, Describe Your Dream Home and I’ll Guess What Type Blindness You Have. Debates about disability in general would happen in regular spaces. YouTube would have contained audio descriptions from the start, and perhaps highly visual content would be less common or naturally described in the video, such as person describing what they are holding before talking about it.

Work/Career.

Productivity would be measure differently. Accessibility would just be a thing. Like, at a meeting, “What tools do you like to use the most?” Working from home would be an option. Work would be open to and even designed for blind people. Blind people wouldn’t have the low employments rates they do now, or else no one would work. A lot of tools we use to make things accessible wouldn’t be necessary if things were designed for blind people in the first place. Subminimum wage would not be a thing.

There would probably be jobs and career opportunities that don’t exist now.

Blind people wouldn’t be more likely or even expected to live in poverty.

Money.

Money would be tactile, labeled, large print, and high contrast. If we still used cash at all.

Inovation.

I think we would have a lot of cool stuff. Countries might even compete to be the first to create things for the blind population which, again, would be everyone in this scenario.

Food/menus.

Restaurants would be easy for blind people to navigate. Menus would be offered in Braille and large print. Maybe plates would be made sectioned so people could know where their food was. I’m thinking about blind accessibility videos and restaurants run by totally blind people. Hmm. Glasses would not be as common at all, because they can be hard for people to see. I have broken too many glasses myself.

If people were to buy food, such as local produce, bags would probably come with homemade Braille or large print signs. Canned food and boxes for cooking would have Braille on them initially. Giving food to others, such as bringing food or snacks for the home when you visit, would come with either an explanation about what it was or a label.

I could go on. I don’t want this too be too long. Basically, what I want to get across is that a lot more than accessibility would changes if everyone is blind. I didn’t want to get into too many heavy topics because this is more of a fun question. However. feel free to add whatever you like. I believe history itself would be altered in many, many ways that have influence on life today, so I could have gone on about that. I could write books on the lifestyle and safety and work sections. And all cultures have their own ways of viewing, supporting, and limiting blind people, so this could change a little or a lot depending on what your culture or the culture you are writing about is like.

-BlindBeta

#blind #blind life #blindbeta

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presumenothing · 3 years

Text

we’re doing it to ourselves (or so the saying goes)

(AO3)

Jiang Cheng swears up a storm and a half when he shoves open the investigation room door the next morning to find someone already there.

The red ribbon hanging long down Wei Wuxian’s back blends in so seamlessly with the red thread strung all over the murderboard that it takes slamming his hand against the wall switch to shatter the sudden imagination of his brother’s photo up there with the rest of the clues, just another person they’d failed to save from this case.

Wei Wuxian gives a hiss of half-startled annoyance, blinking from the abrupt brightness, but it frankly serves him right for standing in the dark like a burglar with only the corridor emergency lights filtering in. Had he even been able to see anything? Even demonic cultivation doesn’t give you night vision, last he checked. “Good damn morning to you too, Jiang Cheng.”

“I’m not even going to ask how you got in here,” he replies, because at least half of what he knows about breaking into places he’d learned after Wei Wuxian taught himself how to one boring rainy day in high school. “Tell me all this has nothing to do with you.”

He doesn’t specify what this is, because there’s no need to. Wei Wuxian hasn’t moved from his frozen stance in front of the board of clues, crimson lines running between the serial murders like a bloody taunt, a web Jiang Cheng has stared at long enough over the past week that the afterimage feels burned into his eyelids.

There’s nothing of Wei Wuxian’s usual brash overconfidence in the answering shake of his head. “No. I meant it when I said I’d never go vigilante again, Jiang Cheng. And I haven’t. I’ll swear it again on anything you ask.”

In a different time, Wei Wuxian would already have sworn up and down that the heavens should strike him down right then if he’d lied, but maybe that’s exactly the problem – he had already been struck down once, in almost every way that mattered, and worst of all is how it makes Jiang Cheng more inclined to believe him now.

It’s still not quite enough, though. “Swear it on Jin Ling’s life.”

He doesn’t need to see Wei Wuxian’s expression to know he’s not happy about that. Which doesn’t matter, because neither of them are; the space Jin Ling occupies among them has been almost sacred especially after they’d nearly lost Yanli-jie, but it’s also exactly why Jiang Cheng is asking him to swear on this. He can’t accept anything less.

Wei Wuxian has to know that, too, because he doesn’t argue, only says, “I swear on Jin Ling’s life that I don’t have any direct involvement with this case.”

Jiang Cheng raises an eyebrow and pointedly does not look relieved. “‘Direct’?”

“Duh.” Wei Wuxian gestures, wide and too-careless, at the grotesque web on the wall. “You’ve got a copycat killer, and a surprisingly thorough one at that. I’d be surprised if the original Yiling Patriarch isn’t tied to this somehow.”

“Careful, they might not be able to see your ego from space,” Jiang Cheng bites right back, even though he’s been thinking the same for probably about as long as Lan Wangji has, for all that they hadn’t acknowledged it aloud until the day before yesterday. “How the hell did you even find out about this?”

“Wen Qing did most of the autopsies, didn’t she?” Wei Wuxian answers, pretty much as he’d been expecting. “And before you think about going to yell at her, she didn’t actually reveal any case details to me, just that you and Lan Zhan were investigating something that I might be interested in. Also that she might snap and add one or both of you to the body count if she has to mediate even one more argument between you two.”

How Wei Wuxian’s presence could possibly do anything except exacerbate that, Jiang Cheng has no idea, but it’s not like he can afford to alienate the best medical examiner they have across all the districts. (And he doesn’t want to, either; Wen Qing’s clear expertise had single-handedly silenced all of the brass who’d had issues with hiring a Wen, but there’s never any telling what might get them started up again.)

Still. “I wouldn’t call that mediating,” Jiang Cheng mutters.

Wei Wuxian laughs, because he still doesn’t have even half an ounce of self-preservation, even against someone who could and would immobilise people with just three well-placed needles. “Speaking of which, how much longer are you gonna lurk there, Lan Zhan? I thought the Gusu bureau had a rule against eavesdropping and all.”

Jiang Cheng gets a crick in his neck from how fast he turns, and sure enough – there’s Lan Wangji stepping out of shadows that had hidden him far too well for someone in so much white. (Even after having no choice but to work this case together with him Jiang Cheng still has absolutely no fucking idea how Lan Wangji keeps his clothes spotless even at crime scenes; he’s starting to suspect it’s some kind of cultivation-related trick designed specifically for this purpose.)

“Eavesdropping would require neither of you to be aware of my presence,” he says, like that isn’t just some bit of pedantry, and inclines his head. “Wei Ying. Jiang Wanyin.”

And that’s definitely intentional, putting his name last like Jiang Cheng cares what order Lan Wangji addresses people in. Which he really, really doesn’t, especially not before inhaling at least half the thermos of coffee that always resides in his backpack in avoidance of the acidic slop from the pantry machine.

Wei Wuxian smiles at Lan Wangji, because of course he does, but it’s strangely gratifying to note that he hasn’t put any effort in making it look convincing at all. “Well, Lan Zhan – do I need to swear my innocence in this case to you too?”

“Unnecessary. I believe you,” Lan Wangji says, bearing regal like he’s some monarch issuing a decree, and Jiang Cheng snorts. How easy for him to say that when Wei Wuxian hadn’t cost his bureau and family almost everything they’d been.

It doesn’t make the back of his throat taste any less bitter when Wei Wuxian’s expression warms a little at that, but at this point Jiang Cheng doesn’t think anything ever will. “Enough chitchat,” he snaps. “The paperwork?”

Lan Wangji retrieves a folder from his briefcase and slides it over to the centre of the table wordlessly, while Jiang Cheng crosses his arms and scowls at Wei Wuxian until it sinks through his stupidly thick skull that the paperwork is for him.

The answering groan, at least, is entirely sincere. “What the hell is that for? You know I hate paperwork, Jiang Cheng, I didn’t quit over it but I very well could have.”

Yes, he’s very aware of that, seeing as their weekly paperwork grudge-match marathons from before everything had gone to hell had been held in his office. “Just read and sign the damn thing, Wei Wuxian, it’s the only bloody reason I haven’t already arrested you for breaking into bureau offices ten minutes ago.”

And that has to be enough for Wei Wuxian to already know, because bureau policy hasn’t changed that much in the years since his defection except to get more annoyingly onerous, but still he looks surprised at the contents of the contract. “A civilian consultant?”

“You have a skillset that could be invaluable to resolving this case. It would be highly remiss not to bring you on board.” Lan Wangji still looks perfectly neutral, as far as Jiang Cheng can tell, but that’s more sarcasm-free words in a row than he’s ever heard from him since the start of this investigation. Possibly since their first acquaintance with each other.

“I wouldn’t call ‘being the prime suspect’ a skillset, exactly,” Wei Wuxian mutters, which is something Jiang Cheng can definitely agree with at least. Though the only reason this is possible at all is because there’d never been an official conviction in the original Yiling case, for a whole chaos of reasons including the public uproar in support of whoever had taken down Wen Ruohan and his cronies for good, and because they already had reasonable evidence to suggest Wei Wuxian’s non-involvement in this spate of murders.

The non-suspect in question is still flicking his way through the clauses of the contract, which Jiang Cheng would feel insulted by except he’d also gone through each and every one just as closely, taken his concerns to Yanli-jie who’d taken them to Jin Zixuan until they could be sure this arrangement wouldn’t jeopardise Wei Wuxian in any way.

He reaches the last page, and from the skip of his gaze Jiang Cheng knows instinctively what Wei Wuxian has to be looking at – the grid of signatures starting with his own and Lan Wangji’s as primary investigators of the case, dated clearly to two days before this conversation had even occurred, followed by Lan Xichen’s confirmation both as Lan Wangji’s superior and because Jiang Cheng can’t very well second his own recommendation even as the Yunmeng bureau chief, and finally a space for Wei Wuxian’s chickenscratch initials.

(It’s frankly mystifying, why someone who can draw talismans that flow like the finest art has never bothered with a more elegant signature, but it’s not a mystery Jiang Cheng cares to solve. Better that than the unmistakable signatures the Yiling Patriarch had left at his scenes, at any rate; even he has had nightmares about that.)

Jiang Cheng tosses him a pen, anything to break the sudden silence, and Wei Wuxian catches it without looking but of course doesn’t get right to signing, because that would be sensible. “What is this for, then? There are easier ways to keep an eye on me. Cheaper, too.”

“The forensic evidence is scant, and the culprit has done something to keep the victims’ souls beyond my ability to communicate with,” Lan Wangji answers without further prompting, which is probably more information than they should be giving out to a not-yet-contracted civilian but Jiang Cheng’s not the one with a stick up his ass about protocol in this room and anyway Wei Wuxian had already broken in here. “An alternative method might help.”

“Last I checked, no one likes the alternative when it means resurrecting th– ah,” Wei Wuxian cuts himself off with a flick of his gaze between them, and has the gall to look amused. “So the old coots are desperate enough by now that anything goes?”

“Not anything,” Jiang Cheng grates out, just to be clear. Wei Wuxian hadn’t been wrong; the investigation methods favoured by each bureau differ even just among the four major ones, but the dislike of the way Wei Wuxian had done things since somehow escaping being taken hostage by Wen Chao had been almost universal.

(There’d been a brief period when it seemed like things might work out after all, when Wei Wuxian had demonstrated how undeniably efficient demonic cultivation could be in comparison to their regular methods – even the Gusu musical techniques couldn’t beat speaking to the victim in the flesh, as it were. But then everything had gone to hell in a massive speeding handbasket and Wei Wuxian had been most of the one who’d sent it there.

Possibly Jiang Cheng is being monumentally idiotic in not assuming this time will turn out exactly the same way, but annoyingly enough Wei Wuxian is also correct in that they need this case solved, or everything might just go to chaos anyway.)

“I’m pretty much the definition of anything, I think,” Wei Wuxian retorts, which Jiang Cheng ignores like the obvious nonsense it is. “Don’t blame me if you lot regret this.”

“Pretty sure it’s already too late for that,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, swiping the thermos out from where he’d set his backpack down.

Lan Wangji can deal with filing that paperwork, if he’s just going to stand there in stoic satisfaction. Jiang Cheng needs his damn coffee.

#mdzs #mdzs fic #fanfiction #mine #long post #once again i blatantly plagiarise richard siken for a fic title #yes this was supposed to be the sort-of-pushing daisies au but things happened #/elaborate and unbothered shrug emoji

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draken-rotzi · 3 years

Text

Bug Man x Reader Part One*

Read on AO3

SO, wanted to write something of this topic bc we all need some more Musical!BJ in our lives, it’s a nice comfort ngl, I enjoyed writing it and hope you do too c:

(Got carried away so here's the first half while I edit the second one in the meantime, it takes a bit to get to the main part we all want to read forgive mE it's better in th next one believeme)

I'd love some feedback since I haven't written anything since 2019 ;v; some wordings might seem odd since my brain speaks spanish first english second

Summary; Old boring university life and a broken but hopeful heart meet the supernatural and whacky demon/ghost with the most, reader-chan needs to get out from a toxic relationship and what's a better help than a magic dead man? Cutting ties might seem easier when someone else arrives and flips your world upside down with no warning.

Mostly fluff, bits of angst l8r

Female reader, but tried to not give any other specifics to the character themselves, OCs appear

It was a fresh autumn afternoon, birds still chirped before migrating to warmer areas for the winter, the wind was cold but nice, not yet freezing but enough for people to wear light coats. You sit on a school desk, a class about taxes and fees, you drift off a bit looking at the window while half-listening.

You lived in a medium but popular city, it was a great place, with nice, kind people for the most part, huge malls, restaurants and lots of places to go out with friends or alone.

...

"Miss ___? Care to answer this equation here for the class?" The teacher asks, a tall, slender woman that radiated authority, it made some students shiver in times like this with a direct question.

"Oh? Yeah- sure miss Adams" You replied, while trying not to look confused since you just missed the topic, hopefully you remembered from the last lesson by the time you walked up to the blackboard and took the marker to write.

...

After class, you were walking with your friends to the cafeteria next to the main exit to wait for an uber to arrive; your side job as a freelance wasn't good enough yet to afford a car, but it helped pay the bills and to have enough for a bit more more than the basic needs.

Your two best friends at college were Itai and Rob. Itai was a funny dude, with a darker tone on his skin, not so tall and full of charisma. Rob was a bit more collected, but still a lot of fun to be around, being the voice of reason for you three most of the time, emphasis in most, because sometimes he got carried away too.

"Man I hate that class, I don't understand a thing! Why do we even need math?" Itai tells the group, sounding annoyed as usual, he was a simple guy, but simple guys need a degree too, to secure a better job.

"Well if you paid attention instead of eating that cold baguette in class you won't be that confused my man" Rob replies, laughing a bit at the end

"At least you weren't asked to do math in front of the class" You sigh, putting down your backpack and sitting on a table next to the building's exit, looking at your phone to know how much time was left for the driver to arrive, around 10 minutes.

"Yeah everyone felt so bad for you, but hey, if you’ll be daydreaming at least look at the front instead of the window next time, it might help you" Rob said while opening a bottle of apple juice, his favorite, he wouldn't drink any other thing, he was probably 60% apple juice after years of drinking it that often.

A few minutes passed by, the three friends chatting about the day's events, their plans for the weekend, and how to get the next assignment done. A figure appeared behind you putting a hand on your shoulders.

"Well hello ladies!" A man chirped, you turned around laughing softly

"Hey yourself!" you replied "Already off?"

"Yeah I've got the last hour free so I'm gonna head out to Kris' place, we'll play some games and work on that big project I told you the other day"

"Great, have fun! You say hi to Kris from me yeah?"

"Sure thing, see you later!" He says with a squeeze of his hand on your shoulder, then a quick pat on the head, turning around to leave.

"Bye, take care Nick!" you say as the man walks out of the cafeteria's door waving a hand.

Silence lingers for a bit until Itai breaks it

"Hey so, you're still going out with him?" He says with a crooked smile and a nervous look, Rob has a similar expression

"Yeeeah... it's been okay for some time now, you know? Hah" You look down for a second, pondering "Maybe this time is the good run?" Uncertainty fills the question, but you still smile to your friends.

Nikolas wasn't the model boyfriend, at least not for your friends; he was full of sweet words, hugs and kisses, only in private places though. When it came to the campus he treated you just like any other friend.

There was a small reason, according to him, he wanted to wait a bit more to make it public, get to know each other better, just to be certain from both sides.

That was the excuse a year ago.

It wasn't like he was out and flirting with other people, not at all, but one could expect to be treated like a love partner after so much time and moments together, you’ve gone to the movies, to dinner, to each other's houses, hell your families knew you two were dating, it just wasn't more than the bare minimum from him, seemed more like a thing someone does if they have free time, not make time for that thing, the thing being the relationship.

It seemed to be only a problem of neglect and apathy, probably, though you were so dumbly in love with him at first, you have been hoping and asking for a change since the relationship escalated to more than just holding hands and light kisses.

"I don't think anything's gonna change, he's been stalling for a whole year now" Itai mumbled, looking at Rob, he nodded in agreement

"Yeah, just dump him already, you deserve way better, you give him everything you got and he just throws the leftovers at you."

"I guess, but we're going out this weekend! You know he doesn't like going out often"

"With you" Rob adds

You hesitate a reply, it was true, most of the times you asked him to go out for a change, he was either too busy or decided to change the event the same day, turning it into a make out session in his house every time. Even though you saw each other 2 days every week, you have seen him go out with his friends more often, on actual enrichment outside activities.

"I know..." you sigh " I'll think about it, I'll try to talk with him about it next time”

Both of your friends let out a small groan of annoyance, they knew you weren't gonna do it, or that he'll just brush it off as always, between the lines of 'oh you're overreacting'

"Ah my ride's here!" You got up from the table and grabbed your backpack, tossing it over one shoulder.

"See he can't even give you a lift to your place!" Itai teased, they knew how you felt about the whole situation, but joking around sometimes made it a bit less bitter.

"Ha-ha, you know we live in opposite ends of the city! Besides none of you give me a ride either" you said while sticking a tongue out on your way outside the cafeteria

"Yeah because you live at the ends of the earth for some weird reason!" Rob joked back

Everyone said their quick goodbyes, and after a calm ride back home you remembered something just as you were locking the door, tossing your backpack into the living room’s couch you walked over to your room.

You flopped onto the bed, looking at your phone you opened some pending messages on the family group chat, apparently a distant relative of yours had died, and the family was gonna hold a small funeral tomorrow morning on the local cemetery, you didn’t enjoy those kind of events since you’d get really emotional, but since it was something really small, no more than 20 people, it was private and most likely no strangers would see you cry over someone you barely knew.

Tomorrow was saturday so it was okay to spend one free morning humoring your family.

After some mindless browsing on your phone, it was already 12:30am, you haven’t even got off your sneakers since you got home, you did a quick self-cleanup in the bathroom, tossing today’s clothes to the side to change into an oversized shirt with no pants as a makeup pijamas, it got a bit warmer in the afternoon so you wanted to enjoy wearing something light before winter fully arrived, getting under the sheets and you were out fast, maybe from all the overthinking of what’d tomorrow might bring, you’ve forgotten what are funerals like.

But there was certainly no way you’d know what would happen at all the next day

...

The event was simple, thankfully there was not much crying, seemed like everyone accepted already what had happened, some kind of illness you heard, at least they weren’t suffering anymore and they’ve come to terms with everyone close to them, that was nice you thought, it sure felt a bit heavy in there, as usual for funerals. After the ceremony, the family offered a barbeque in the departed’s honor to bright up the mood a bit; right at the cementery, maybe it was cheaper than renting a place for it.

Free tasty food was something only an idiot would decline, so you spent some time doing small talk with the relatives you knew best, but still you mostly just listened and ate in silence.

You saw a glimpse of color and movement out of the corner of your eye, since everyone was wearing dark tones it stood out, turning your head there was just an empty plastic table with some half-full plates and glasses, still, you felt a shiver up your spine, it was probably the weather.

When you looked back at your phone's clock it was already 6 pm, guess dad jokes and food made time fly, you said your goodbyes and condolences to everyone and headed out, you were still at the cemetery, so you had to call a ride back home, the driver dropped you near a convenience store just around the corner of your apartment, since you needed to buy a snack for dinner, on sundays you usually had takeout, so no need to worry much about it right now.

_______________________________________________________

“I know I didn’t imagine anything, that breather saw me at the cemetery! we even locked eyes for a second! It may work this time, just gotta get closer while they're alone”

_______________________________________________________

…

Walking down the street, humming a bit to some music and a bag of snacks in hand, dusk started to set, some stars could be seen and the sky was a beautiful fuchsia tone with oranges and purples mixed in the clouds. On instinct, you took your phone out of your jeans pocket to take a picture of the cute sky.

Just as you took a couple of pictures, to make sure at least one was good to share, something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye again

You felt a shiver like a cold wind out of nowhere, similar as to when a car drives a bit too close to someone on winter, but there was not even one driving car on the street.

"Oof, should get back now, it's getting colder" picking up the peace to get home faster-

A piece of paper slapped you in the face

“EW- wind trash” you muttered while grabbing what seemed to be a flyer, and it flew indeed.

You naturally took a closer look at it when you took it into your hands and out of your face, it was a very faded print, with an image of an… insect? man? holding a hammer over a small house and people, you chuckled, it was a funny irony cartoon, a bug crushing people.

Half of the flyer was unreadable because of some liquid or dirt, already dry but you couldn’t read what was supposed to be, written under the drawing was the end of an ad;

“Ghostly services one name away!

RESIDENTIAL - INDUSTRIAL - COMMERCIAL

Call BETELGEUSE

BETELGEUSE

BETELGEUSE!”

“Betelgeuse? ...Like that one star?” There was that shiver again, Halloween was a week ago, so this kind of paper seemed normal to be hanging around with the wind.

As you walked down the street, some lights started flickering, the cold wind seemed stronger and the sky was a deep dark purple now, strange, it was supposed to be clear dark blue by now, fall nights came quickly this time of the year, still it didn't feel like the usual night. You were just around the corner of your street when the closest light bulb exploded and zapped with a loud 'CRASH', making you stop for a second cowering from the shards

"What the-!? No one told me we'd be getting winter thunderstorms sooner what the eff" muttering swears you made a run to your apartment, scurrying for the door keys in the process, lights kept flashing and the wind made windows sing a high 'oooo' noise, you have seen this kind of weather before but no one would like to be outside when it happened, nervously and quickly you finally fit the key in the lock and opened the door, hurrying inside and closing it behind, a loud bang thundered through the silent room, the unexpected storm slamming against the walls and windows, you left the lights on before going out.

After a minute it seemed to calm down, wind turning into a breeze and the sky now it's usual black, no stars in the sky.

You let out a sigh and walked to the counter to drop your keys, the phone and your purse, you had to make sure all the windows were closed for the night, luckily it was Saturday, so no need to go out tomorrow on that crazy weather.

Windows secured, you changed into your winter pajamas, a gray pair of pants with a pattern of a cat on toast and eggs, with a pastel blue loose shirt. Making your way to the kitchen you decided a light snack would be enough for tonight, after that run and emotion on the way back home you had no energy to cook a proper dinner, not even microwave, it was also too late for it anyways you thought.

You put the snack bowl and a cup of water on the kitchen counter, looking to grab your phone. You noticed you still had the dirty flyer, forgot to drop it between the commotion maybe?

Placing it aside and unlocking your phone screen, you opened the ‘best friend's’ chat group

You. 'Hey guys, did you get any of that weird winter storm action today after school?'

Rob. 'Nah, it was a clear sky for me'

Itai. 'Same, also I was asleep all afternoon'

You. 'Strange, I got caught on this whirlwind on my way back home from the store, just my luck I guess >:('

Both of the boys. 'Lol yea'

Putting the phone down and chomping on some of the snacks, you thought about the events, it was indeed a clear sky earlier, only a couple of common clouds you took pictures of before it. You grabbed the phone again, quickly to see if any of the photos looked good.

"Pleasepleaseplease" you muttered in excitement, it was a very cute view, hopefully one picture captured it nicely.

And they did, a couple looked stunning, you smiled, thinking at least it was worth getting your hair all messed up by the wind, you were about to delete one picture it since it was blurry when you noticed a different kind of blur, it was gray with splashes of green in the corner, similar to what you saw at the funeral.

"There was nothing green on the other pictures, was it?" you looked through the other photos and they were pretty normal, full of pink, purple and blue from the sunset.

You looked back at the flyer

"Betelgeuse, betelgeuse, betelgeuse huh" You said in a playful tone, grabbing the torn paper from the counter, you felt a shiver, a strong one this time, well that was the opposite of a calming experience, but still the word felt strange when you said it, it wasn't like you hadn't said before, Orion was a popular constellation, and the Betelgeuse star was on it; but this time the air inside had a tense feeling.

All the lights went off after a second "Now a blackout? What's with today ugh" picking up your phone to use as a flashlight, after a couple of seconds before you could turn it on, all the lights came back again, but you almost had a heart attack when you saw someone standing in the center of the living room, enveloped in a green mist.

"FUCK wh- WHO THE FUCK-" you stuttered before turning around and grabbing the closest thing to use as a weapon, a wooden spoon used for beating eggs this morning "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE? WHO ARE YOU? GET OUT!"

The figure was a man, taller than you, dressed in a striped black and white suit, dark hair with green tints at the end, a wicked smile plastered on his face, he took a look around, then back to you, endless chills went down your spine when you met his eyes, you could feel the tense aura from before growing stronger, anticipating, colder.

"Well who might I be? You should know, you called my name baby! Glad to make some business with you tonight!" He said as he extended a hand and walked, floated? quickly towards a paralized you, frozen in place, you only managed to put the spoon up in self defense from whomever this man could be, the lights were out for just a few seconds, was he inside the apartment all this time?

"S-stop right there you!" tried to threaten the man with the wooden tool, he didn't seem to notice nor care, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, then placing a sloppy kiss in your face, petrified, you shivered and gripped the spoon harder, he felt oddly cold.

...Did he just kiss you? Who does he think he is??

"No no, no stopping now! We just got started cakes, and now that you said my name three times, I can finally interact with you and everything here in the world of the living! Gotta say thanks it's been real boring being invisible for so long lemme tell ya-"

*WHACK*

You hit the man in the head with the wooden spoon as hard as you could.

...the spoon broke.

The man's smile grew wider

#hope it's o k a y #I'll reblob this tomorrow with tags it's 2am help me #fanfic #fanfiction #beetlejuice #betelgeuse #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice x you #musical beetlejuice #draft #female reader #could be both Blum or Alex I love them both sm #or any other that u seem fit #I need a name for this jhfdsdfj #is 'whack' the correct sound?#sorry for the cliff #might edit later

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letsbenditlikebennett · 3 years

Text

Picnic Crashing || Ariana & Orion

TIMING: During the Sweet Dreams POTW PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: A mopey Ariana and Orion have a picnic. It’s crashed, quite literally.

There was a good chance that Ariana had packed entirely too much food in her picnic basket for just her and Rio to eat, but she was happy with the assortment. Plus, with all the baking Athena did and pies Kaden was sending on pretty much a weekly basis, she had a lot of treats to share. While she was still largely struggling with what her role was supposed to be and if her efforts to help were at all worth anything, she was looking forward to some quality time with Rio. There was no hiding that the Quinn twins were among her favorite people in town. More like family at this point, really, even if they were still figuring out their relationship to each other. She had a nice blanket laid out in the common and her picnic basket holding it down. When Rio approached, she put on the warmest grin she could manage and said, “Hey, I hope you’re hungry because I brought a ton of food.” She patted the spot on the blanket beside her and asked, “How’s everything been? I feel like it’s been forever.”

Backpack stuffed completely full, Orion made his way across the grass, making a beeline towards the figure off in the distance he assumed was Ariana. He hadn’t really done picnics before. He didn’t know what to bring. Plus, it wasn’t like he kept the kitchen full stocked with food. The kitchen in Skylar and Nic’s house was almost comically large compared to the amount of food that Rio kept stored in it’s cabinets. He was in way over his head in that giant house, but ironically it was cheaper living there then it would be to get a smaller place. Perks of whatever rich person had apparently bought it for them. Instead, he had stuffed his bag with some lunchmeat, bread and the most recent box of goodies he had gotten from Nate’s shop. Don’t forget to smile. He reminded himself as Ariana noticed him. He flicked his wrist into a wave and finished his trek to the blanket, “You know I’m always hungry.” He gave a thumbs up and slipped the backpack off. Lowering himself onto the blanket, Rio pulled his food from the bag and added it onto the blanket. “Oh you know, I live in a giant house with an indoor pool by myself now. That’s been pretty weird. But I guess I’m okay. How about you? And Athena?”

There was a certain sense of ease that came with spending time with Rio. He was a good friend and she had zero doubts about that. It wasn’t just that though. Ariana found it easy to just be around him. No expectations, no putting on a brave face. She could wear her feelings plainly and sit in comfortable silence with her friend. Judgment would never come, at least not from Rio who had done plenty to show he’d always be a supportive figure in her life. Today, his smile seemed to mirror her own in the sense it was more of a ghost of a smile, there simply to indicate they were in fact glad to see each other even if everything else around them seemed to be going to hell. Even so, it was easy enough to laugh along with his statement. “You and me both,” she joked before her features softened a bit. She wasn’t quite sure what happened, but living alone didn’t sound great. “When you put it like that, it sounds like I need to come over for a pool day. But that does sound like it’d be weird. Did your roommate move out? Me? I’ve been okay. A little bit of internal wrestling since my attempts to help people seem to make things worse, but like, trying to remember this town is just kind of a shit show. And Athena seems to be doing better. I know losing Amanda was hard, but she’s been hearing back from med schools. Kinda… well, I guess a little nervous to see which one she chooses. I don’t want to like ask her to stay, but also don’t really want her to go so there’s that.” She realized she was rambling a little bit and took in a deep breath as she took out some of dumplings and soup she’d made as well as a thermos full of warm green tea.

Orion was willing to admit that things had been a bit awkward since Athena and Ariana had started dating. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t erase the past memories of his sister from his mind. The things she used to say. The memory of their eighteenth birthday. Sometimes it was all too easy for Rio to replace the image of that werewolf in his mind with Ariana’s. But he did believe that Athena genuinely cared for Ariana. And despite weirdness, Rio couldn’t avoid Ariana. She was one of his closest friends, someone who he knew he could count on. And when the two hung out, things were just simple. He really enjoyed simple. “Please do. It’ll get better use if you do. I don’t really swim. But yeah she uh- left town recently.” No reason to get into the specifics of Skylar’s departure. He sighed listening to her, not pleased to hear that she hadn’t been having any easier of a time here in town. It never seemed like things would settle down. “I’m sorry. That sucks. Personally, I think you helping me has turned out super well, for the record. But I’m sorry to hear about whatever you are referring to.” Rio thought about medical school a lot too. He wasn’t convinced that Athena would ever leave White Crest. Her entire life was here, he wasn’t sure she would know what to do anywhere else. But a lot had changed since their parents had died. It was hard to tell exactly what was going through Athena’s mind anymore. “It’s hard to tell. Between you and me? I don’t think she’ll ever move out of this town. But I don’t exactly know her as well as I used to.” He lost focus of the conversation as she unpacked more food and he caught onto the smell, “Holy crap that smells so good. I’m so excited to eat.”

There was a big part of Ariana that still wanted to bridge the gap between Athena and Rio so they could all enjoy days out together like this, but the steps they were already taken, those were big. And they were enough. Maybe one day things would be easier, for now, she was just going to bask in the simplicity their time together brought. She took a sip of her green tea and slowly nodded as Rio spoke. Pool sounded fun, roommate moving out, not so much. Two times in a row at that had to be pretty rough. “I’m sorry, that she left. That’s gotta suck. I’ll come over soon then… and not just for the indoor pool.” She gave a small nudge with the last part of her sentence before she began nibbling on some of the food. It was a nice little reminder from Rio that not all her efforts to help were for not. Even if they were more in the way of friendship and not any of the crazy crap White Crest threw at them. “Yeah, maybe you’re right,” she agreed not wanting to contemplate it too much on a day where they were supposed to be enjoying themselves, “This town just… it’s hard. But you know that.” Being reassured that Athena wasn’t likely to leave helped a little though. The thought of saying goodbye had made her a bit nervous throughout her girlfriend’s interview process. She wanted the best for Athena, but she also wanted to be by her side. It’d be nice if those two things lined up. “I kind of hope that’s the case. I want her to live her dreams, I’d just… I’d miss her a lot.” She shrugged lightly not wanting to get too caught up in her worries when she heard a loud thud. Her head whipped up as she saw a bicycle colliding with a tree. “Holy shit,” she muttered, “That’s not what you…” She trailed off as she realized the young man wasn’t getting up. She jumped up from the ground instinctively and ran over to him. There wasn’t blood and he had a helmet on, but he was just… out? “Uh, Rio. I don’t think he’s,” she focused on his heartbeat, it was relaxed, “He’s alive but, I don’t know what’s wrong. We should call an ambulance right?”

“Nah. It’s okay.” Orion lied. He believed what he said. He was happy Skye left. This town had hurt her, in ways that are hard to recover from. He knew that she could do it. He also knew that to do so was probably a lot easier away from town. He at least loved the idea of Ariana hanging out at the house. The place was far too big for just him. But for as much as it made sense for Skye to leave, Rio couldn’t comprehend the idea of Athena ever leaving town. He expected her to live and die in this town. Just as his parents had. Then again, she never expected Athena to gut their mom either. So his sister had surprised him in more than one way. Still, it felt weird that so much had changed. Rio always thought he was the one desperate to get away. “You think you’ll ever leave?” It was a genuine question. Ariana hadn’t spent her entire life here. She had managed to find some charm in this terrifying town. He wondered how long it would last. Any chance at eating or discussing was distracted by the man crashing into the tree. He jumped up and followed behind her, rushing to his side to check on him. “If he’s breathing then what happened?” Rio questioned, still thankful that he was alive. “Right. Yeah. 911. Calling now. See if you can wake him up?” Rio suggested as he dialed and pulled the phone up to his ear.

“I’m not too sure. I’d like to think she has reasons to want to stay here, but I don’t want to hold her back either,” Ariana answered honestly. Normally, she would flat out ask Athena, but with things at least being mostly calm, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. Thankfully, there wasn’t too much time to think on that with the bicycle collision. Both Ari and Rio were quick on their feet though hearing the heartbeat only did so much to calm her as Rio called 911. She nudged the young man and loudly said, “Hey, hey, bro-- wake up!” But he was out like a light. There wasn’t even the slightest flinch as she shook at his shoulders. No indication that he could even hear what they were saying or feel her touch. “Something… something doesn’t feel right here, Rio.” Outside of some scrapes from falling off the bike, he seemed to just be asleep. Was her on drugs or something? She began rummaging through his jacket pockets but only found a wallet. A wallet with nothing out of the ordinary about it. “His name is Leon Torres. Uhm…. born 1998? That’d make him 23? 22?”

Orion rambled quickly, a bad habit in general made even worse by the stress of talking to a 911 operator. “We uh- are at the park. And he ran into a tree and he’s not waking up and-” Luckily, the operator was much more level headed than he was and cut in to ask questions from time to time. “It doesn’t look like he’s too badly injured. I don’t see any excessive bleeding. He’s not waking up but he’s alive.” He hadn’t actually checked the man’s pulse officially, but he could hear the heartbeat. If he had to guess, that was one of the first things Ariana had checked for as well. “Okay. Okay. Thanks.” Rio hung up the phone and hugged it against his chest as he crossed his arms, “An ambulance is on their way. She uh- sounded pretty confused.” That made three of them. Clearly, Ariana was just as lost as Rio and the 911 operator had been. It didn’t exactly seem feasible that somebody fell asleep while reading a bike and now wouldn’t wake up. “Yeah uh- it’s pretty weird.” Rio hovered awkwardly above Ariana. He didn’t know how to help or if he was just getting in her way. “Yeah. Not exactly prime age for randomly going into a coma while on a bike ride.” He mused, glancing around the park looking to see if he saw anybody or anything around. This felt supernatural. “Could it be a spell? Some kind of drug or poison?”

Ariana kept her focus on Leon’s heartbeat. It was slow and steady, but not so slow that she’d think he was dying. The rhythm was similar to that of a peaceful sleep. Normally, it was something she found calming, but given the more than perplexing circumstances, she found herself trying not to panic. Nothing about this seemed natural and that meant it was unlikely a human doctor could do much of anything for him. She could vaguely pick up on Rio’s rambling, something she normally found endearing now only furthering the sinking feeling in her stomach. “Good, they can at least monitor him. I don’t,” she trailed off and looked him over yet again. Outside of some bruises forming and minor scrapes from the crash, there was nothing indicative of injury on his body. No signs that pointed to anything in particular. No scent on him that could give them some sort of clue on what the hell was happening here. Rio was onto something with the idea of a spell or drug though. That seemed much more feasible than a 20-something year old just falling into a deep sleep while riding their bicycle. “It has to be. Why else would he just- We could look through your books or something? I don’t know a lot about magic or drug… or human health conditions.” She hated problems like this. If she had her way, all of her problems would be one she could throw fists or claws at and call it day. Unfortunately, life rarely worked like that and she felt frustration building up within her. She wanted to punch… something. Anything, really, but she breathed instead. First in shallow breaths until they evened out into something deeper and she could fight the urge to beat up a tree. “We’ll see what we can look into after the ambulance gets here. It has to be something.”

Orion hoped that the ambulance hurried. Despite the man seemingly being alive, this still wasn’t normal. Rio would feel a lot better once the man was in medical hands. Though if this was supernatural then maybe they wouldn’t be able to help him either. Still, it had to be better than just standing over the man’s unconscious body with no idea what to do. Ariana was right, they would be more useful doing some research on this while he stayed under a hospital’s care. “Yeah. Good idea. Humans have some uh- weird medical things. But this seems especially weird.” Rio spoke as if he wasn’t a human himself. Most times, he didn’t really feel like he was. Rio glanced around the park. If this was some kind of spell, wouldn’t the caster have to be somewhere around here? Maybe proximity didn’t matter. His ears perked at the very faint sounds of sirens. “I think they’re on their way. Hopefully it shouldn't be too much longer.” And after they were gone, the two would probably have to pack everything up and head for the Scribe building. “So much for the picnic I guess, huh?”

In any other situation, Ariana might have laughed at Rio referring to humans as if he wasn’t one himself. She was pretty sure hunters still considered themselves human in the same way spellcasters did. Not that it was something she’d ever thought to ask before now. “Kind of hope it’s one of the weird medical things as opposed to… well, you know. White Crest brand of weird things,” she said softly, still keeping a close ear out for his heartbeat that was still steadily trucking on. They were still going to do their research anyway, but medical seemed so much easier to fix though any sort of medical condition that essentially put an otherwise healthy appearing 22 year old into a dead sleep was alarming. As she started hearing the sirens in the distance, she felt a little more at ease. Monitoring a human to make sure they were alive was high key stressful and she’d much rather be reading a bunch of Rio’s old books… which was saying something considering she hated reading. “Yeah, picnic vibes are pretty dead now. We can snack and research? Keep it real, sleuthy,” she responded with an awkward laugh. The whole fun friend day thing was pretty much ruined. Not that she was sure it was ever really ago in the first place considering they both seemed to be bummed out about other things. As the ambulance approached, she waved to get their attention and did her best to explain what happened. They all seemed just as confused as she and Rio had been. That didn’t leave her with much hope it was in fact medical. “Yeah, he seemed to be just riding his bike normally then sort of just crashed into the tree and isn’t waking up. His pulse seems steady.”

It was almost pathetic that Orion and Ariana immediately went to something supernatural for the cause of the collapse. He realized with a wicked sense of irony that a regular medical mishap might actually be more surprising than something supernatural. If it didn’t feel so disrespectful standing over top of the man, Rio might have had to sarcastically laugh. That, or hysterically cry. For some reason, the line between the two always seemed alarmingly thin. “Snack and research sounds great.” Rio agreed, thankful that the food wasn’t going to completely go to waste. The ambulance arrived, either incredibly quickly or time flew by when they were stressed. Ariana took charge immediately, describing the situation Rio slipped away from the group to head back towards the picnic set up they had abandoned. He worked on packing up the area, glancing over from time to time to check on Ariana. The looks on the EMT’s faces were particularly comforting. He finished packing things up and made his way back over to Ariana as they began to load him into the ambulance. “I hope he’s okay” He wished he could offer more wisdom than that, but all he had was well wishes and motivation to try to find the answer to whatever caused this. “I got everything ready to go.”

After a quick rundown of what happened, the ambulance and Leon were off to the hospital. Ariana watched warily for a moment before she walked back over to Rio. The same reason that made this little Maine town perfect for someone like her made it dangerous for so many others, dangerous for herself even. It was hard not to feel a certain sense of disenchantment for a place she was once determined to make home, but all the same, she couldn’t imagine ever leaving. There were far too many people she cared for so that meant she had to do her part in making it better. She grabbed some of their stuff that Rio had packed up and said, “Thanks, I’ll drive. Hopefully we can find something.” It was a big thing to hope, but she wanted to help. Really help. Somehow, it didn’t help that the possibilities were truly endless, but at least they could try. And if anything, at least they wouldn’t be alone.

#wickedswriting #rio #picnic crashing #// cody is a gem rio is a gem #this is v dated don't look @ me

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alphapockets · 3 years

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Discord: New Message Infodump

Yes this is not getting put in the widofjord tag because I don’t like filling up others’ searches with something that is not “directly” linked. *jazz hands* anxiety. BUT here is all I could think of and a sprinkling of things I have seen asked about or mentioned in the comments! May this and the last chapter hold you over <3

Q: Why a text fic?

A: Honestly? I have only ever seen one from VM (there may be others, but I don’t read many fics out of my niche sections?) that was between Grog/Vax (I don’t ship it but when it’s a bar shift #3 in a row that’s 14 hours long, you need entertainment). I had read also Call Me, Beep Me from the VLD fandom as well as Misuse of Stark Technology and thought that it was a strong platform for conversation and storytelling that shows multiple perspectives at once without the constant POV whiplash that can happen otherwise. And with the strong and chaotic personalities of TM9 and the diverse ways the NPCs interacted fit in, I hoped it wouldn’t be that hard to pull off.

I’ll be honest, I was not sure if it would work out or catch on as it is not the most popular form of storytelling. As many people said in the comments of chapters 1-5, people generally don’t enjoy texting fics and skip past them. I am glad I took the risk and that everyone has with me.

Q: Is it true you have not watched past Ep. 40?

A: Yes. Campaign 2 came out just before I started school, and I decided school deserved my full attention. I was also not as attached at large with the cast as an ensemble as I was with VM. This combined with having anxiety and needing something to be finished before I can enjoy made it difficult to get back into C2. I was lucky that I started Campaign 1 a few weeks before that ended. I will probably watch it when everything is over, but I mostly follow through spoilers and Arsequeef’s gifs.

Q: What are some of your influences for this?

A: I have seen a lot of people loving the realism of the conversations. I don’t watch TV or movies, but I watch streamers mostly, especially group streamers. Because of this, I tend to hear nothing but natural conversations. I also have been in group chats since the old AIM days and was a bartender for 6 years, so I have pulled from interactions that I have experienced around me. Often when something perfect happens in a chat with my friends I screen shot it for use later (the look spam and how do you uwu are both examples).

Q: Why that area?

A: I like to use locations I know well if there is a lot of real-world interactions. I am from Massachusetts and I had used Savannah, Ga., for Here’s To Us, where I lived for 4 years.

Q: Will the chat be renamed to The Mighty Nein or something similar?

A: No. The chat existed before Caleb as that and was set up originally by Fjord and Beau with Molly, Bryce, Darrow, and Yasha. It’s been the Game Hoes for too long in their life to change. There will be some side chats that appear and disappear.

Q: Didn’t Veth work with Caleb?

A: Originally that was the plan, but halfway through the first chapter, I decided to space everyone out better and missed her name in one paragraph at the beginning of the chapter. I wanted them to know each other but avoid the trope of “direct connection” with strangers to lovers and text fics.

Q: How tall is Fjord (and the rest of them by proxy)

A: I changed the heights because Caleb is canon “Average height” which in DnD is different than the US. So, he was given a few extra inches to put him at 5’10”. Fjord was scaled up because we love height differences to 6’3” because of that. By order of height:

Veth- 4’11, Kiri- 5’, Keg and Yeza- 5’3, Jester and Rissa- 5’4, Astrid- 5’5, Bryce, Beau, and Wulf- 5’9, Beau, Caleb, Molly, and Ava- 5’10, Yasha- 5’11, Darrow and Essek- 6’, Fjord and Gunther- 6’3, Cad and Enzo- 6’5.

I’m probably forgetting some people.

Q: Why did Enzo’s arc allegedly end that way?

A: I’m not sure I’m done with him just yet, but the reason it had to be let go like that is simple: legality. Real world consequences to acts would have kind of thrown a wrench in how this all unfolds. And Molly was the character who I felt could bounce back the best from getting a solid ass kicking.

Q: Why was Astrid faster at accepting than Wulf, and why is he so possessive?

A: Wulf was Caleb’s first real friend and that meant he was the redhead’s world. Astrid came second and she realized how quickly jealousy can sour something. Wulf’s jealousy fed into the break-up. So, despite the awkwardness, she wanted to show Caleb that she meant it when she said they could still be friends.

Wulf was Caleb’s first friend, and he has that sense of seniority in his mind and has a hard time accepting he is not being replaced when new people come around. And as a more dominant person, it was hard for him to have the normally docile friend speak out against him. He is still immature and needed to grow, but has a hard time seeing that is okay right now.

Q: Where does everyone attend?

A: Amherst College- Astrid, Caleb, Essek, Wulf. Boston College- Cad. Emerson- Beau, Gunther, Enzo, Fjord, Keg, Molly, Rissa, and Yasha. Princeton- Bryce. Hofstra- Jester and Kiri. UConn- Yeza (Graduated). UMass/Boston University/Tufts- NPCs not brought in yet.

**Caleb has stated Jester lives in the City early on because Jester has all her locations on social set to NYC

Q: Any reason why you picked those schools?

A: I’m a BC fan (and Providence College), my childhood friend went to Emerson, and I was accepted to Hoftstra before I joined the military instead. Amherst was a perfect “nearby” city that was another college town/I am maybe looking at Amherst for a PhD. Program.

Q: Where is Darrow stationed when not crashing Bryce’s life or deployed? What does he do?

A: Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. He was attached to the 26th MEU (Marine Expeditionary Unit) that goes through the Mediterranean. He currently is on hospital duty as a temporary “relaxation period” for people who are deployed often. As he is a paladin, I thought it’d be a nice touch to have him as an FMF Corpsman.

Q: Where is everyone from? The holidays showed people all over and it’s mentioned some people were not born in the US or where they were located.

A: This is where that spreadsheet I made comes in handy. Most of the people either grew up in or intend to stay in Massachusetts for a long while. As there are some of the major schools in that area, obviously people would be out of state.

Boston TM9 Party

The Clay Family is in Jamaica Plains, which is just outside of Boston proper. They are from there, minus Toya who is adopted as well and from Maine.

Molly was the godson of Cad’s mother, who is from England and his father had been stationed in England for some time, so when he was essentially orphaned and given up by the indirect family, she put through the paperwork to take him in. Fjord and Yasha stayed with them.

Fjord is originally from Texas, outside of El Paso. After he joined the Navy, he never intended to move home as he hated it there. He fell in love with New England when he was sent TAD (Temporary Assignment of Duty) to the naval base in Newport. He stayed and continued his education at Emerson.

Yasha is from Jamaica Plains as well and went to school with Molly and Ornna, who is the same age as them. Her dad is from South Carolina and her mother is from Okinawa. They moved up north for her dad’s work.

Beau is from Kentucky and her family is unreasonably wealthy. She decided to go to school someplace as un-Kentucky as she could fathom and was stuck between Berkley and Emerson but chose the former because the weather meant her mother would never visit.

The Amherst Crew (Astrid and Wulf) are all from the area except for:

Caleb, was born in Poland to a Polish/German family. They moved and when his family died in a fire (he was at a sleepover at the time) his grandparents took him in. Wulf was still there with his large family and

Essek had returned home to California for the break.

Astrid and her family spent 10 days in Key West for the holidays, which is why she missed the New York trip. Wulf stayed locally for winter break.

The Conn/NY/NJ Groups are pretty straightforward.

The Brenattos stayed in New Haven, where they moved when Luc was born from Amherst. They had moved so Veth could start fresh.

Jester was surprised by a visit from her mother on Christmas Day and spent it with her. It was the first time her mom came from the Ukraine, as Jester’s dad is the one who she moved with. She lives on Long Island not far from her school.

Kiri is from upstate New York and was home for the Holidays.

Bryce drove down to Louisiana. They and Darrow are from Marietta, but they were at their grandmother’s place in Lafourche Parish. Darrow returned to Jacksonville NC.

Others Keg and Gunther were in Rhode Island but separately, where they are both from, Rissa is from Maine and went home, and Enzo was in jail (he is from Lynn, Ma).

Q: How old is everyone?

A: 5- Luc. 19- Kiri, 20- Jester, Rissa, Keg, and Enzo, 21- Beau, Molly, Yasha, Essek, and Astrid, 22- Caleb, Cali, Reani, and Wulf. 24- Cad, 25- Fjord and Bryce. 27- Veth and Darrow. 28- Yeza.

Q: If Fjord has the GI Bill why does he live on campus or have a job?

A: For those who don’t know how the GI Bill works, the government pays for education and sends some money based on housing in the zip code of the school. Boston is insanely expensive and student living is easier. Essentially, he wanted the “college experience” and it was cheaper. He needs the job more because he knows better than to let himself get idle. If he does, he won’t focus on school. Like Travis, my Fjord has ADHD.

Q: How did Veth and Caleb meet?

A: In a Juvenile’s in-patient program for at-risk teenagers and those suffering from mental health issues. Caleb’s depression and anxiety following the death of his parents and the constant bullying for numerous things and previous attempts or ideations had him labeled “at risk” for self-harm. He was in for 3 weeks. Veth was in for her kleptomania and possible signs of disruptive BPD or other developing personality disorders but aged out of the youth section when she turned 18. As most diagnoses cannot be done for those until adulthood, she was being watched for early onset signs.

Q: How did Jester/Veth get into the group?

A: Jester met Beau, Yasha and Molly at NYCC two years’ prior in line for a panel. They met again at Anime Boston after exchanging Twitter handles a few months later. Jester had worked NYCC a year ago and helped Veth to a quiet room for Luc, who was fussing, then stayed with her as she was on break soon. She invited Veth to play a few games of Don’t Starve Together with her and Yasha before she was brought into the main group.

Q: This is a really diverse cast. What is everyone and why?

A: Some were obvious choices such as Caleb being from Germany, Jester being from Eastern Europe (Ukrainian), and Molly as Irish (and English).

Others I did to flush out to make a group in a major city make more sense. Wulf and Astrid both have French/ Germanic backgrounds because in canon, they were raised in a similar way. Astrid is Jewish along with Caleb to hint at why it may have been easier for them to date if her family was stricter than his.

Fjord and Yasha faced some racial issues early on in the show (Yasha from where she was from and Fjord for being a half orc), so I wanted them to be people of color. Yasha is half Japanese because of her name and because US troops often marry someone from Japan when they are single and stationed there. Her father is Jamaican in decent. Fjord’s dad he figures is Black but they’ve never met, as his mother’s side are Mexican. I chose that because I wanted to keep the Texan because a lot of people in the service are from Texas. Also, as previously stated, I had too many naturalized or foreign students already and needed to not stress over how they would be around for the breaks.

Cad is English, Norwegian, and Swedish because Cad is a god, who why not make him a Norse god? Veth is half Cambodian partially because there is a decent population size in Massachusetts. Beau is the not white-passing cousin of her family which will come in later because rich families have secrets, yo. Her family has some Cajun/Creole in her like Darrow but it shouldn’t be there according to her family lineage.

Essek is Persian, Rissa is Puerto Rican, Bryce and Keg are “Confused American Mixes” of everything. Cali I have not decided yet, but will probably have some English in her, Reani I have decided on Moroccan. Kiri is Korean.

Enzo is an asshole (he’s also mix of random European heritage.) I feel like I missed someone.

Q: Is Widofjord the only pairing we will see?

A: There are some others forming, including BeauYasha, which was one of the possibilities when I started. Molly/Essek/Astrid were a shock and some others I won’t spoil just yet are starting to bud as hopefuls.

Q: Do you have an end game in sight?

A: Honestly, as this whole fic has taken on a life of its own, not entirely. It was originally mapped out to be 12 chapters long and have much of this condensed down with all the side characters removed, no Enzo or hockey games, and the extra fluff cut out. As I wrote it, I found I enjoyed that almost more than the Widofjord specifics. So, this has really evolved away from a Widofjord ONLY fic, I am aware. Endgame wise, when I feel the story is told, I will wind it down, but there are more elements evolving with every chapter and I want these characters to get the moments they’re aiming toward. I also don’t want it to drag on too long, so I know that this will eventually come to an end.

Q: Did anything change relationship wise while writing?

A: 100%. Beau and Jester were originally who I expected to pan out, but my Jes couldn’t seem to devote to that because she had developed more attraction to Molly and Fjord than I expected. Beau and Yasha just clicked better. Molly was the next option for Jester, but then I decided to make Essek and Astrid actual friends with the TM9 and we see how that went.

Q: Is Jester going to find something happier? It kind of sucked seeing her so down and withdrawn these last few chapters. And where is Nott’s role now?

A: I am trying with Jessy. I am. Here’s to hoping she behaves? As for Nott, she is shining as the mom friend, but her coming into the fray more means bad things are happening. And yes, that is on the way.

Q: You keep hinting at something in both Caleb and Fjord’s pasts. Are we ever going to see that?

A: Yes. I am trying to space out the angst as much as possible. This was never meant to be a hurt/comfort type story, but people have mental health issues and those because pivotal to the story more than I intended. Maybe the curse of having complete access to everyone’s conversations? But they will be coming out.

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flyonthewallmedstudent · 4 years

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Studying, while working and parenting.

Image from the minute school. Which in itself has good techniques for med school and courses in general.

To think that studying stops or relents after med school is a complete fantasy. One I used to have in med school.

In some ways its easier because everything is a bit familiar because you’ve been lectured and examined on it before. First pass is always harder. It’s also more challenging as you adapt to working and trying to implement studying into your schedule.

The key thing is making studying a habit. Whatever worked in med school, will be your go to crutch in residency or registrar training. Your best friend will always be past exam questions (or any Q bank in general).

Conflictingly, what worked in med school, may not work anymore in residency. I.e. anything that was more time consuming isn’t going to work anymore. You become more time poor. What were time savers to studying in med school, will remain valuable in residency.

Our director of education often tells us that we are now lifelong learners. And we’re going to have to figure out a process to facilitate this.

What i’m going to add is that it can be dynamic, because life will always change on you. I had a different study method when I was living on my own and working, than when I was pregnant. And obviously now that I’m primary care giver in the midst of returning to work. My habits also shift when I’m on night shift.

I’ve read a lot of study tips by students, here’s what I’ve tried (and what’s kinda worked so far) as someone who’s out of school with a young family:

Environment:

Ambience. Have an environment that feels conducive to learning. Entice yourself into it.

I used to love libraries and coffee shops.

In covid times, or in times with a baby to chase around, it’s not always an option anymore.

So, make-over your study space. If you have one. Or just spruce up where you live with a few things. Low budget items can be found on Society6 for instance or good old amazon. Facebook Marketplace is another source of 2nd hand cheaper items, it’s possible to request contactless pick up or use the postal service.

Alternatively, even simpler is just recreating at least the ambient noise via youtube and having a screen devoted to it with a relaxing wallpaper. Most sleep resources for babies recommend white noise, and now I find it relaxes me into studying too. There’s a tonne of 3 hour to 8 hr or live 24 hr streaming of ambient background noise with rain, library sounds, coffee shops sounds, softly playing music etc. Even Victorian time street noises.

Have a clean environment. I can’t remember the psychology behind this exactly, but if you have a messy space, subconsciously you can feel it. At minimum, make the bed, put laundry away. Out of sight. Out of mind. Deliberate practice.

From minute school and the link above. Like any skill to master (be it karate chops or scales on a musical instrument) the same goes with mastering clinical skills and knowledge. Work itself lends itself to this. Every patient admission, rounds or handover is the practice of medicine.

At home, it’s reading up on the interesting case on rounds afterwards and talking to other residents about it or your study group. Also flashcards. If you don’t want to make your own, download them. They’re everywhere. Ankicards are the best on the phone or laptop.

the alternative to flashcards? A white board or writing it down over and over on scrap or manila folders. I miss my white board, we don’t really have space for it since having a kiddo, so it’s sits taken apart, under the bed.

Having a single Qbank is also helpful. I find it less confronting than flashcards some days when I’m tired. There are super cheap ones out there, if you’re willing to experiment - such as PassMedicine (a UK based one for the MRCP).

Handsfree studying

It’s almost impossible to study while caring for kids. So many parents suggest ankicards, but i’m lucky to touch these unless they’re sleeping. Or unless they’re really small, or old enough to entertain themselves.

So I get around this with just having something to listen to in the background. I’ll still have my ambient noise on. (It really feels like I’m at cafe again, down to eavesdropping on the other tables)

Podcasts. My favourite is the curbsiders. But anything engaging and simple works, where it’s like a conversation on rounds. Something that is not a lecture, where the hosts ask the pertinent questions you always wonder but are sometimes afraid to ask or refer. Also a new fave, is the Curious Clinician. Saves a time consuming (and sometimes useless) google search or uptodate dive on why things we might come across on the wards happen. Like what causes fingernail clubbing - what’s the pathophysio?

Lectures are another option. It’s very passive learning and dry. I’ll be lucky to be able to get through 1 a week. But as they’re all recorded, it’s easy to leave in the background. It does require constant rewinding such that it can take hours to get through a single one hour lecture.

Similarly, so are other similar forms of teaching like case presentations now over Zoom are recorded. If low on time, I’ll pay close attention to Qs at the end or the feedback sessions.

Final option, an app or Qbank that talks to you. Firecracker has this option, but is a subscription service. Anki cards has a voice record option.

Accountability staying on track or having motivation is hard. So having someone to catch up with and present to is a must. For the FRACP if you’re in Australia, having a study group is essential for the written. Even if you have nothing prepared, or just have 2-3 answers to old exam qs. During busy peaks, that 2 hr window with my group could be the only time I have to study that week. By clinicals, aim to present to someone senior at least once a week. That in itself has sufficient fear factor to study pre and post. reading. Old school.

But read when you can, read the resources that easy to understand and digest. That jog your memory.

Best things are the clinical practice texts like Talley and O’Connor. Nothing fancy. Oldie but goodie. I’m lucky to have an hour a week to do this, but as I’ve only so much time, it’s a high yield little hour.

Scan the table of contents of high impact journals once a week. I maybe do this in line for coffee. Takes 5-10 minutes. I’ve subscribed to NEJM 360 for residents, so it lands in my inbox. It’s easier to understand and asks you questions to think over. Wikijournals is also a quicker read. Relatively anyway.

Most lectures and podcasts will refer to the landmark trials and give you the key points anyway, so I don’t allocate too much time to this.

adapt.

Being time poor requires adapting. But in the time that you do have to study, ironically your focus is so much better then when you had endless time.

There’s no perfect system. Any suggestions? Keen to find out if anyone else has time poor study tips!

#medblrs #medblr

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musingsofsaturn · 4 years

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Opening Up [Kristanna ‘Waitress’ AU] - Chapter Four

[Masterlist for this fic]

Fandom: Frozen/Frozen II

Ship: Anna/Kristoff

Side Pairings: Anna/Hans, Elsa/Honeymaren, Bulda/Cliff

Chapters: 10/10 [COMPLETE]

Rating: M

This Chapter’s Rating: T for mentions of alcoholism

This Chapter’s Word Count: 1,900+

Summary: Waitress and baker Anna Westergaard’s life changed forever when she discovered some startling news. Dr Kristoff Bjorgman didn’t anticipate liking his new patients quite as much as he did. For better or worse, the residents of the small town of Småby Bend were about to be changed forever.

Author’s Note: Hi folks, apologies for leaving it so long between chapters - it's been a bit of a manic weekend! (The exact reason I never set scheduled upload days - life has a habit of getting in the way!) I hope this chapter is worth the wait. Thank you so much for your support on this so far, It's always greatly appreciated! :)

~ Saturn

[Photo from Serious Eats. The recipe to accompany this chapter is Green Chilli Chocolate Pie. Looks yummy!]

The waiting room’s seats were hard and cold, and Anna found herself reflecting on how unwelcoming that felt as a patient. She was feeling nervous about what the upcoming appointment might reveal about the health of her and her baby, and her mind raced with apprehensive thoughts of what was to come with the pregnancy, and eventual child. The last thing she needed right now was an uncomfortable chair.

“Anna Westergaard?” Kristoff’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she got to her feet to follow him.

As they settled into their respective seats, Anna basked in the feeling of friendly familiarity she found herself experiencing with him. He’d been coming into The Snøffnug Café at least once a week for a slice of pie, cup of coffee, and a quick chat with Anna and the other two waitresses. Even Cliff had begun to give the doctor a friendly greeting and occasional discount when he visited.

“How are you doing today, Anna?” he asked her, friendly but professional.

“I’m doing alright. I feel good, no uncomfortable symptoms. Well, a little bit of morning sickness, but it’s not severe or anything.”

He nodded as he quickly typed up some notes on her answer. “The sonographer at the hospital forwarded me a copy of your scan – did you decide to find out the sex or are you keeping it as a surprise?”

“I don’t want to know,” Anna replied. “I just call it- uh, them ‘baby’.” Her hand subconsciously made its way to her belly, where a small bump was beginning to surface, just little enough for it to still be her secret, though she knew that would soon change.

“Alright, ‘baby’ it is.” His eyes were twinkling with the knowledge of a secret, and Anna couldn’t help but smile. “If you could just hop on the bed for me, and I’ll have a quick measure so we can see how baby’s growing.”

No one would have ever accused Anna of being graceful, and she demonstrated that perfectly as she clumsily mounted the bed. She tried not to move the paper that had been placed down on it, and as a result her movements looked as awkward as they felt. Kristoff was kind enough to pretend not to notice, but Anna couldn’t help but grimace inwardly.

To distract herself from the embarrassment she felt, Anna found herself asking, “So what made you transfer to Småby Bend anyway? You’ve never said.”

Kristoff had just turned to her after rummaging in his desk drawers for a tape measure, and Anna noticed the flicker of hesitation that came across his features. He quickly recovered though, and she thought she might have made it up.

“Oh, it’s kind of a long story. I’ll try to give you the Sparknotes version.” They shared a grin, and he quickly asked her permission to lift her top so he could measure her tummy. She consented, and he went on, “I, uh, I’m actually married. I don’t wear the ring anymore because we’re… separated, I guess? We got married just after I qualified, so like two years ago. Which is a very short time to be married, but apparently long enough for her to realise that she’d actually rather be with someone else, so…”

Anna kept silent as he spoke. His hands on her stomach were warm, and ever so gentle as he carefully measured the small bump from top to bottom. She felt her heart beating faster as he leaned in close to read the numbers on the tape measure. Nervously, she suppressed that feeling as far to the back of her mind as she possibly could.

“I didn’t even see it coming.” He laughed, but there was a great sadness in it. “She just came home from work one day, told me she didn’t love me anymore, and that she was leaving me to be with her best friend.”

In a whisper, Anna let out a soft: “I am so sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. It was for the best. She’s happier now than she ever was with me, and it’s better to have split up early than to keep up a façade for decades. But I couldn’t stay where we’d started to build a life together, so I went looking for a new job, and it turned out that Småby Bend was in need of a doctor, so here I am!” He paused, glancing up at her in a way that made her think that he was debating whether or not to carry on. “I like it here. It’s a beautiful little town, and it’s got everything I need. The people here are… really lovely as well.” Anna couldn’t ignore the warmth in his expression, but she dismissed the notion that it was for her.

“For what it counts, I’m glad you ended up here.” She meant it.

Standing upright, Kristoff cleared his throat. “Baby’s growing perfectly. Just the size I’d expect them to be at this stage.” He turned around so she could readjust her top to cover her tummy up again, and she heard him typing up something into her notes once more. When he finished, he reached for a blood pressure cuff and turned back to her. “We can take your blood pressure while you’re still lying down, it’s easier for you.”

Not for the first time, Anna recognised how respectful and caring he was towards her. Of course, he was a doctor, so it was to be expected, but she still appreciated how he respected her body and her privacy, and wanted to make these appointments as non-invasive and easy as possible. Her instincts had told her the first time she met him that he was someone she was safe with. Maybe it was that sense of safety, or the idea that she had to reciprocate his honesty, but she started to speak.

“Hans wasn’t always a drinker. We started dating in high school, so obviously he wasn’t drinking then. I’d had a crush on him for years; he was so handsome, and sweet, and funny.” She smiled to herself. “When he asked me out, I thought I was so happy that I thought I was going to faint. He was so nice to me, you wouldn’t believe. My mama died when I was sixteen, and he was right there to support me through it. What teenage boy can take that responsibility?

“Did you know Småby Bend used to have a cloth manufacturer? It was a factory for knitting wools and fleeces and stuff for blankets.” Kristoff nodded that he knew what she was referring to, and Anna went on, “Hans worked there after graduation, six days a week for seven whole years. It paid for our wedding, for the house, and all the little things we needed. And I worked in the café, just to keep myself busy more than anything.

“The businesses that used the factory’s supplies weren’t happy with their profit margins, though. Not only could they get the same material cheaper from elsewhere, but we’re so ‘middle of nowhere’ that we were really hard for them to get to so they could pick up their stuff. So more and more companies stopped buying from Småby Bend, and eventually they just closed the factory altogether.

“We’d only been married for two months, but after that, Hans was miserable. He felt useless, like a failure, and he used to have a drink every night to take the edge off his worrying. Then he started drinking through the day too, and now I think he drinks more beers than he does water.”

Kristoff hadn’t moved while she was telling him all this, but he carefully stepped towards her now to begin sliding the blood pressure cuff up her arm.

“It’s been four years since the factory closed. Now he’s got a job at the garage, but he still drinks every day. Sometimes I think that he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to anymore. It makes him angry. The world makes him angry; he feels lost, and not himself, I can tell. And I make him angry sometimes. Some of the things I say, or do, just… I piss him off. I don’t mean to, but I do.”

She was finished, and she knew that Kristoff picked up on that, although he didn’t say anything. In silence, he filled the cuff with air, before taking the reading and going to write it down.

“Your- the reading suggests that your blood pressure is a little low,” he said eventually. “It shouldn’t be too serious, but just to make you aware.”

“Okay, thank you,” she answered politely. She didn’t like this new way they were speaking to each other. It felt so professional, so distant. “I brought you a pie,” she told him at last. “‘Death by Chilli Chocolate’. It’s a new recipe I’m testing out, so I want to know what you think of it.”

“I’ll be sure to stop by with my critiques.” He smiled at her, and she basked in the warmth of it. “That’s it for today, you can hop down whenever you’re ready.”

She got up quickly, too quickly. The dizziness hit her like a sack of bricks, and she felt herself losing her balance. The ground seemed to be galloping up towards her as the room spun, and she cried out as she realised that she was falling.

Strong arms on her own helped her to regain her balance. Kristoff’s grip was firm as he steadied her, and her dizziness slowly receded as he held her upright. She looked up at his face, meeting his concerned gaze as she came back to herself.

“Are you alright?” he asked worriedly.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” She made no move to step away from him, and neither did he.

They could have pretended that they stayed that close for that long simply because they were concerned. He could say that he was keeping hold of her to make sure she was fully recovered before he let go. She could have said that she still felt dizzy, and she needed his strength to steady her.

But that wouldn’t have explained why his hand went to her face, gently brushing aside a piece of hair that had come loose when she lost her balance. That gentleness was magnetic to Anna. She stepped closer to him, so close she could feel his breath on her.

“Anna,” he murmured, “You deserve so much more than a husband who doesn’t realise how lucky he is to have you.”

She didn’t reply. She didn’t even think. Instead, she moved her hands to his shoulders, rising to tip-toe even as he leaned down towards her. Kristoff’s hand cupped her face and his arm wrapped around her waist, pressing her closer to him and making butterflies flutter in her stomach. Her heart was pounding, and the room was spinning for an entirely different reason than before. It felt as though every moment in her life had been leading to this one, here, with her leaning in desperately to kiss Kristoff Bjorgman.

A knock on the door caused them to jump apart mere milliseconds before their lips met.

“Come in,” Kristoff called, startled but recovering now that they were separate.

A nurse opened the door, and Anna didn’t hear a word they said as she fumbled with her bag, placing the cake tin she’d brought for him on his desk. Her fingers were shaking as she buttoned up her coat, and when the nurse left, she all but ran from the room.

Next Chapter

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jackjots · 4 years

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#3 Suspicions

Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye 30 Day Prompt

(This takes place around the second half of Episode 3)

Day #3 @30daysofwayward

CW: Mention of blood, alcohol mentions.

(I do not own any other characters or place names outside of Shelby St. Ranger, this is just for fun)

Reading about silver mining while laying in bed eventually got me tired enough that I fell asleep with the book in my hands. When I woke up, the book was face down on the floor. I picked it up and found it was open where pages had been ripped out. I frowned and looked up what chapter was missing: “The Werewolves of Connor Creek”. I thought that was odd, and I wondered if the library knew their book had been torn, or if they’d blame me. I sighed and put the book on my bedside table as I got ready for the day. A day of catching up on my work, and then I could learn more about the town, I decided. With a fresh mind, it was easier to sort my priorities and shove that weird guilt I’d been feeling away from my mind.

I drank some tea I’d found in the back of a drawer, noting to myself to go get coffee from the market later, and got some writing done. I got stuck on another small detail about Norse life that would be such an easy Google search normally. As I waited for the page to load, I looked over at my notebook, flipping back to my notes about Connor Creek. I’d gotten a good chunk of writing done, the internet was being even slower than usual, and I started thinking about the book again, so I went back to the document containing my novel and typed a quick note to myself to look that up later, and closed out of everything. I brought the book to the couch and started to read again. My eyes dragged over words about the sustainability of silver mining next to gold mining, and suggested that the mysticism surrounding silver could account for the many bizarre tales that came from similar towns across the country. I thought of the chapter on werewolves, and looked through the index for any other such tales. Most of them were tales about the MacMahons greed, probably written by Connor descendants, and tales about the Connor’s inability to welcome change, probably written by MacMahons descendants. There were impartial footnotes at the bottom that suggested whoever compiled this wasn’t sure which side to believe.

My stomach growled, and I felt like I was going nowhere with this book, so I decided to go into town. Get some coffee from the market, get some lunch from the Dead Canary, and maybe, just maybe, ask questions about the current political situation in the town, now that I was getting an idea that the town was founded on a quarrel about a quarry, I was even more curious about the current quarry quandary. The possibility that I was creating something where nothing existed was still there in my mind, but was that so bad?

I brought the book with me, since I could read while I ate. I drove into town, and the ease in which I found a spot still made me happy. I knew eventually I would take free parking for granted, and I’d gotten a few tickets the first week before I knew exactly where to park, but for now I was pleased.

I noticed Ryan Reynolds' face plastered all over the outside of the Dead Canary. I knew it would be cold to take them down so soon, but it was hard to look at him smiling thirty smiles at me. I gripped the book in my hand and entered the bar that seemed to hold its gloom even in the middle of the day.

Quinn, the chef, took my order begrudgingly. I just wanted grilled cheese, but he insisted on making it bleu cheese with strawberries and balsamic for dipping. I shrugged and asked Desmond for an iced tea.

“How’s that book goin’?” He asked as he slid me the glass.

“Trying to read it quickly, since I have to return it to the library soon.”

“A library book?”

I showed him the stamp from the library. “Yep. It’s old school, but I kind of like that. Shame it’s a bit ripped up though.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, someone tore it up. That’s why we can’t have nice things.”

He wiped a glass and shrugged. “Not sure I’ve had many nice things.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. It’s all a matter of opinion.”

“Wise words Shelby. We’ll get your food right out to you.”

I remembered the bleu cheese and grimaced. “Can’t wait.” I paused before I went back to my booth. “Desmond?”

“Yes?”

“What’s your take on the podcasters?”

“Podcasters?” He said the word like he didn’t know how to fit it in his mouth so it came out sideways. “You mean the nosey ones, Artie and Paul?” I nodded. “They’re alright. Nosey.”

“Yeah, you said that. What exactly are they investigating? The race? The murder?”

“I don’t exactly know. All of it, from the sounds of it.”

“That makes sense. But why did they even come here in the first place?”

“Why don’t you ask them yourself?” He gestured outside. “Word is they’re out there at Miner Mole right now.”

I shook my head. “I think I’ll stick around here for a while.”

“Good idea. Here’s your lunch.”

After a surprisingly delicious meal, which Quinn nodded approvingly from the bar at me while I did so, I washed it down with the iced tea and read a bit more. The closer I got to the chapter that was missing, the more the pages alluded to the chapter. I realized it would’ve been a nice chapter to have. Despite the silliness of the topic, I knew there would be information in there, even if it was open to interpretation. I decided I could try to find the book online and order it, from the library computer so I could simultaneously return the book.

I went up to settle my tab. “Where you off to now?” Desmond asked as I had my keys in my hand.

“Gotta get some coffee from the market, and then I think I might just head over to the library today.”

“Done with your book already?” He handed me my change.

“Actually, I think the chapters that were missing might be more important than I thought. I think I might go see if I can buy a copy myself.”

“Why is this so important to you?”

I tilted my head. “I’m not sure, but I’m just kind of going with it.”

“Good for you.” He patted the bar. “Have a safe drive. Those turns can get hairy.”

I decided to get coffee at the market, since it was cheaper and I’d probably forget by the time I got to the library. Besides, I liked supporting the town I lived in. The mailman, Odie Doty, stopped in and got excited when he saw me. “There’s a letter waitin’ for you, it’s from your editor. They’ve liked what you’ve sent them so far, but they want more violence. Not sure why, what you sent them was mighty violent already. At least the parts I read.”

I blinked a bit. I was still not used to the intrusiveness of the local postal service. But in some ways, it took the anxiety out of getting my mail. “Thanks Odie. Look forward to reading it.”

“You coming to the town council meeting tomorrow?”

“Maybe.” I said, which was the honest truth. My curiosity about the town was piqued, but it probably stopped at gathering with the locals. The introvert's dilemma.

“The mayor will be there.” He said in a sing-songy voice as he left.

I hadn’t met the mayor yet. All I’d heard of her, was that she was quite a dog. Just kidding, I knew she was actually a dog, but wouldn’t that be funny? That would’ve been funny. “See you later Odie.” I called to him as I headed to my Volvo.

“Is that your car?” His voice boomed from remarkably far down the street since he’d just been right next to me.

I pointed at the Volvo. “Yes?”

“Looks like you’ve got a flat!”

My face fell. “Thanks.” I looked. I had four flats. My tires were slashed. I looked around, but no witnesses were to be found. Grumbling, I threw the coffee beans in the backseat and went back to the Dead Canary. “Can you call the shop? My tires are...well slashed.”

“Are they now? ‘Fraid I can’t do that, they’re closed Thursdays.”

“Are they now?” I echoed Desmond. He just raised his eyebrows at me and I waved it away. “Fine, I’ll just walk home.”

“Want a beer before you go? You’re walkin’ anyway.”

I chewed on my cheek for a moment and then shrugged. “Fine. I can read around the chapters that are missing, right?”

“Couldn’t of been that good if they’re gone.”

“Or they were too good.” It was one of those moments where I didn’t realize what I was saying until I heard it myself. A memory resurfaced and highlighted itself in my mind. “Desmond, did you see anyone sneaking around this book last time I was here?”

“Not sure why anyone would.”

“Me either. Except I’m fairly certain it went missing long enough for that chapter to get ripped out.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

“Yeah, why would anyone steal a chapter about werewolves?”

“Can’t imagine.” He repeated, as he pointedly handed me a beer.

“What’s with all of this imagining Desmond? That’s not like you.” The curved shape of a human at the end of the bar slurred. I’d let my eyes slip over him enough times that I jumped when he spoke.

“Okay Henry, let's get you something to eat.”

I mouthed a thank you and went back to my spot.

Much to my chagrin, the book drifted farther from the town as the chapters went on. I didn’t care how the silver affected the coast of California. I didn’t care about when the first bank was established. I didn’t care about the guessing game the rest of the family feud story had devolved into. I shoved the book aside and found a new beer replacing my empty cup.

“You look like you needed it.” Desmond said and turned around.

Did I? I looked at the glass. Fine. I drank a big gulp. I saw a few patrons slip in and looked at the clock. I’d killed a lot of time with one beer and a few boring chapters I realized. I might as well stay for dinner.

By the time dinner was in my belly (something something caprese something something), I’d also consumed another two beers. I was usually good at pacing myself, but for some reason, with my tires and the book, I was just ready to be drunk. I didn’t see Desmond, so I put the exact change out under my plate with a note ripped from my notebook. I went to my car and pulled out my coffee beans. I was going to have coffee, that was for damn sure.

As I made my way down the street, I ran into someone lurking in the shadows; a solid form that was wearing a big fur coat. I said sorry as I blundered forward past them and passed the neon signs of Prism’s shop. I turned a corner and thought I heard something. I leaned my head back and with bleary eyes saw a shape running away. I walked back, cautiously, and looked into Prism’s shop where the door was ajar. The red stuck out to me as not red enough. It occurred to me this was my first time seeing blood, in large amounts, on a real live - a real dead person. Prism was dead. And there was someone else face down next to her. I tore back to the Dead Cannery and found Desmond cleaning a glass - how the hell does he have glasses to clean when no one was there was what my brain was saying before my voice started working. “There’s bodies, there’s bodies over at Prisms’. And I’m not sure I can handle it.” His face set grimly and he told me to sit down while he made calls and asked me where exactly.

I wasn’t questioned so much as told what I saw. The Sheriff gave me a ride home. Trying to keep my mind from seeing the not-red-enough-red, I babbled about my slashed tires, and when she asked me why I hadn’t gotten them fixed at the shop, I told her what Desmond had told me. And she gave me a look that told me I had probably misheard him. But I hadn’t. Even in my slippery thought state, where every thought I had felt like a wriggling fish I tried to hold onto, I knew I hadn’t.

I fell into bed wearing the same shirt I’d worn all day; the drunkenness already melting into a spiky headache. As sleep started to lurk in the corners of my eyes, I thought about Desmond. The book at the bar, the slashed tires, the fact that he was gone when I’d left the bar and conveniently back after I’d found Prism...something was wrong with all of these things, and though when I pinned them on Desmond I had trouble sticking them there, they still fit too well for comfort.

#waywardguidefortheuntrainedeye #30daysofwayward #tin can bros #waywardguide

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tinyaibou · 4 years

Text

life updates

theres like no meat in the house everything is fake meat because my parents are trying to cut down on meat. its like fine because we never really ate meat in the first place but like.... im tired of this fascimile?? maybe its cheaper than like Vegetable Meals (proper) and easier but like i miss real meat and nothing makes me miss it more than fake meat. its like when u eat fake sugar and ur bodies like Ok Lets Process Some Real Sugar but it fucks up bc its not real sugar. its like that except with my brain and then i just end up craving the real thing.

dad got a new computer for us to use and its very beefy. and a nice change from having to do everything on my aging laptop... nothing wrong i just hate having to use it in his office. makes drawing and working on creative projects difficult. this was like a big surprise... and i got to help build it a little! mostly he just had me hold up a light while he did most of the assembly but it was good? yeah?? oh and it can play games without like dying which is a bonus but like jfkskfkdk im excited to mess around w after effects on this? see if i remember anything from my motion graphics course??

also this spring im gonna like.... be doing a mix of noncredit certicifaction courses + actual community college courses and work on like the Basic Classes i need to get a degree?? even like a two year one??? mayybe work on transferring but im honestly not confident enough in my ability to Do School to see myself being able to see that as like a worthy investment... but!! whatever.

i’ll be having a bigger workload this time around and im really hoping that im able to handle it because last time i had this many classes i fumbled everything and relapsed (slfhrm) and then was hospitalized for a bit Ha Ha it is making me kind of freak out because i legitimately dont know if i can handle it. On the other hand i feel ridiculous doing the certificate courses (very very basic Business stuff for like.... Accounting or Administrative/ Assistant Work?) and i kept feeling taking so long with college???? because i would end up only being able to do one or two classes a semester because otherwise i wouldnt be able to process shit or manage my time?? it all just falls apart?? anyway im hoping it doesnt all fall apart. im starting small for winter and doing just One Normal Class (english b) and even that has been giving me mild anxiety like i know im going to fuck everything up.

#captain's thoughts #food ment /#in sumarry: good things but like also things that give me massive anxiety #but i also feel like im holding myself back a lot??????#i hope i can do this????

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theritualofourexistence · 5 years

Text

#CancelStudentDebt

You. Guys.

Background: Bernie Sanders and Ilhan Omar have called, on Twitter, for users to briefly state how their lives would be different without student debt, using the hashtag #CancelStudentDebt. It’s part of a campaign recently launched by Sanders that would instantly eliminate the $1.6 trillion dollars of student debt currently hefted by American citizens.

Even with that plan, I’m still not sure I’m voting for Bernie.

And if he somehow wins, I still don’t actually believe he’d be able to just poof away my student loan debt.

For the sake of the “what-if,” however, I chose to tweet along with the hashtag... just a simple statement about how my life would be different if I didn’t have student loan debt.

This is the exact text of my tweet:

“With no student debt, I’d be planning a future that included children, supporting my parents, and pursuing my dream job. #CancelStudentDebt”

I went on to say in a few follow-up tweets that I’m still pursuing my dream job... just much more slowly than I could without the debt I already have. I briefly explained what that dream job is (having my own practice and providing therapeutic services to those incarcerated or recently released) and that I have three jobs now that I’m using to work in that direction... but that I still feel the pressure of my loans every day, every time I choose to spend money on anything.

That tweet seems pretty harmless to me. Despite that, it has launched quite a shit storm. One that I was definitely not expecting.

First, I am a nobody. I have very few followers on Twitter. I basically use it to follow sports, a handful of celebrities, and whine to no one about the stuff I struggle with daily.

The good: this tweet now has 200 likes. WHAT?! I think the most likes I’ve gotten on a tweet before capped out at like 25, at the MOST. It also has nearly 30 retweets. So folks relate. I approve.

The shit storm: over 60 mostly middle-aged white dude trolls were sitting on that hashtag, waiting for a simple little tweet like mine to come along so they could jump on it and rip it to shreds.

In the last eight hours I’ve been called stupid and lazy more times than I can count. I’ve been told over and over again that I shouldn’t have taken out loans if I didn’t want to pay them back, that I should have picked a different major in college, that I shouldn’t have gone to college, that I should have gone to a cheaper school. I’ve been called a socialist (yeah, okay, not denying that), I’ve been called evil. As of 5pm, I’ve been called a cunt... by strangers... at least three times.

I never intended to start an argument about the benefits and or downfalls of eliminating student loan debt.

I was simply saying that, without it, my life would be different. And easier.

I was raised to chase my dreams. I think a lot of people in my generation were. But our parents, likely the same dudes shit-posting on Twitter today, were well-meaning when they told us to dream big and to have the courage to chase those dreams. I don’t think they could predict the world we would inherit... and just how hard it would be to actually pursue those dreams.

I don’t think my dreams are outlandish. I don’t think they’re irrational. And trust me, I know what irrational looks like.

Do I think my student loan debt will magically disappear? No, I don’t. Would it be nice? Yeah. It would. Would things be different and easier? Yes, definitely.

I can’t go back and pick a cheaper college. I can’t go back and pick a different major. I can’t go back and decide not to switch fields. I can’t go back and un-sign the loan papers I signed when I was 18 years old.

I was 18 years old. Maybe. I honestly could’ve been 17 because I’m a summer baby. And I have absolutely no memory of signing loan papers. I knew enough to know I’d have to pay them back. But I also knew that getting loans was the only way to pay for the program at the college that I thought would be best for me.

Turns out, 18-year-olds don’t know shit.

Maybe we shouldn’t let 18-year-olds make decisions about thousands of dollars.

Anyway, here I am now, unable to undo any of the decisions that saddled me with my current student loan debt.

Today I was called stupid, lazy, evil, and a cunt, just for having a dream.

What a weird thing.

Some suggested I join the military. Maybe I could make that work... but let’s be honest, the military isn’t a nice place to be for pacifists. Also, enlisting when we’re on the brink of war with Iran just seems, objectively, stupid.

What do people get out of insulting strangers on the internet? None of the people who responded know anything about my life. Many of them told me to get a job and work to pay off my loans. Well, I’ve got a job and I am working and that’s not really enough. Many of them accused me of seeking handouts. Of never working for anything and expecting to be carried through life.

Those people don’t know how hard I’ve worked. But that didn’t stop them from calling me names.

I often forget that not everyone understands empathy the same way I do. It’s why I feel the way I do about a lot of socio-political issues. If you told me that my taxes would go up ever so slightly but that I’d be able to help millions of Americans achieve financial stability, I’d say sure.

I don’t understand why people with a comfortable life--a home, a family, a steady income--feel so mad about other people wanting a chance to have those things too.

All I want, really, is to be comfortable enough to feel like I can give back. To repay my parents for their constant support, to donate to causes fighting the good fight, to provide affordable therapeutic services to people in need with limited access.

Today, right now, I’m pretty sure I will die childless and still with debt. That’s the reality that I face every day. I work hard, despite that. And I dream, despite that. But the idea that maybe that isn’t my future is certainly nice... no matter how immediately unrealistic it may be.

What did all those angry white people get from telling me to quit bitching and get a job and deal with the consequences of my actions? What good does that do? Who does that help?

What good does it do to tell a fat, poor, anxiety-ridden 28-year-old that her dreams are stupid and unattainable and that she’s a lazy idiot for having them?

What synapses are firing in your brain to make you think that that action has any kind of value?

Remember, folks, that even if you’re looking at a computer and not a face, that screen-name is connected to a real ass person. I may have silly dreams but at least I am committed to not treating other people like garbage. I don’t have any interest in hurting anyone’s feelings, and I’m adult enough to choose my actions accordingly.

Today, I sent a simple tweet out into the universe, and, in return, strangers called me names for hours. HOURS. It’s literally still happening.

Who does that serve? Calling me an idiot isn’t going to change the reality that forgiving student loan debt would change my life. That’s not an opinion that can be corrected, it’s simply the truth.

So, regardless of who is elected and what happens with student debt... Regardless of whether or not I pay off my loans some day... Regardless of whether or not I die childless with debt still left to pay... think about how you interact with others.

Hurting people for no reason is sick.

I’m a strong girl, because of all the hard work I’ve put in, of course; so I’ll be okay. But you don’t get anything from insulting others on the internet... so why spend the time and energy to cause that hurt when there’s nothing at all to gain from it?

Here in America, if we’re lucky, we’ve only got 80-some years to dick around on Earth.

For the love of God, please just use that time to be kind to one another.

#cancel student debt #student loan debt #debt #student loans #twitter #trolls #be kind

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thirstygirlclub · 5 years

Text

Duchess - 16

Chapter 16 – Papi

Dancing was the best decision I ever made… I think. I was making literally so much money. Before I started working I didn’t really get money. When it was just numbers in the bank it didn’t really mean anything but when I saw it out on the stage or in my clothes or in my tote bag I understood what a lot of money meant. I mean, I know I didn’t make nearly as much money as Daddy used too but it was still a lot. I nearly had enough money to put a deposit on an apartment or a small house for me and Jack. I had looked around a few but none of them were the kind of place that I wanted to live in; they were completely different to what I lived in at home and when we moved to Charming. I had told the lady that I wanted to have a backyard for Romeo to play in so she said she would see what she could do.

Mr Chibs came around to look at houses with me when Jack was in school but neither of them were that much help when I talked about how I would redecorate the houses and what I would have done to the gardens. They just kind of nodded and didn’t have any ideas whatsoever; it was kind of annoying. We would only be renting for a while until I had saved money to get us back to LA. Jack didn’t want to leave anymore, now that he had Aaron, but I told him that we didn’t belong in this town and now that Daddy was “missing” and Mom hated me we needed to get back to where we know people. But, at the same time, I didn’t want to leave Kathy and Bambi and especially Mr Lowman. It was gonna be tough deciding what I wanted to do.

“What about this one?” Mr Lowman asked, sliding a brochure over the table to me, “It’s got a yard and two rooms.”

“What part of town is it in? The rent’s kinda cheap.”

He looked down at the address on the brochure and chewed his pancakes. Breakfast had become me and Mr Lowman’s thing once he could go to work again. We went to the diner at least three times a week before he had to work and we took it in turns to pay. Sometimes other people would come with us, like Mr Chibs or Mr Juice or Mr Kozik, but I liked it best when it was just me and Mr Lowman. Sometimes he would bring Scrap and I would take Romeo and we would just have a nice morning. I liked it anyway and he must have fun too because otherwise he wouldn’t keep coming over. And, on the nights when he visited me in the club he would walk me home and then sleep over. At first I was nervous, after the whole accidental cuddling incident and everything, but then it didn’t happen again and I was ok about that.

“Few streets away from me,” he said with a nod, “could probably find cheaper though.”

“You think? Oh Mr Lowman being a grown up is so hard. Why does anyone do it?”

I huffed and rested my chin on my hand, looking at him hopelessly. He was smiling slightly while he looked at me then cast his eyes back down to the pile of brochures on the table.

“What does Jack think?”

“Ugh! He wants Aaron to move in with us but what kind of sister would I be if I let my little brother’s boyfriend live with us and sleep in his bed. Then, he says I should just get a three bedroom house. What kind of dumb idea is that? I can’t afford that. Like, I know I make loads of money dancing but not that much. I just need to get out of Mr Chibs’ house, I bet they are getting annoyed with me living on their couch.”

“Nah. Chibs likes having you there.”

“Yeah but they’re a couple and do couple things which would probably be easier if I wasn’t there. You know?”

Mr Lowman laughed and nodded. He knew what I was talking about without me even having to fully explain it. I was already scarred for life by what I had heard. It wasn’t loads but it was enough for me to want to leave and let them do their couple things in peace. I could always see Mr Chibs on my days off or whatever. I would miss living with them though.

“I get it,” he nodded with a small smile, “what about here? It’s above Floyd’s.”

I couldn’t get an apartment above the barbers shop because I kept setting fire to the trash cans outside of it. He had ruined it though because there were cameras on the doors now and I had almost been caught. Luckily, the quality was really bad and I had my back to them all, especially since I had been “disguised” in a black hoodie. I had to change my dance bag though because that was caught on the CCTV. They saw all the sequins reflecting in the light of the fire on the cameras. Luckily enough people didn’t recognise it as mine so I wasn’t in trouble for anything. Besides, I was starting to want to make bigger and more exciting ones and the trash cans were literally so boring now. I had looked at cars and bushes and stuff but nothing had felt right.

“I need at least a backyard. For Romeo, you know?”

Mr Lowman looked at me slightly too long and I could have sworn that he knew there was another reason why I couldn’t live there but he shrugged and moved the brochure to the side. That was a close one; I’m not sure I could lie to him if he ever asked me about anything. He couldn’t know I was crazy. I don’t think he would be my friend if he found out.

“I’ll ask around,” Mr Lowman said and drank the last of his coffee, “someone’s gotta have a house for you.”

“I just feel like I’ll never find one big enough. I really want a pool; I really miss going swimming or like hanging out in the pool.”

“Not gonna find a pool on stripper tips, even you.”

I pouted at him which made him smile. He liked it when I pouted at him, I think, because he always smiled and laughed when I did it. It made him do things for me too, just like it worked with everyone I’ve tried it on. Last time I used it on him he came clothes shopping with me. I could have gone on my own but he’s really strong and I needed him to carry all of my bags for me.

“Come on. I’m gonna be late.”

I nodded and stood up, piling the plates up neatly for the waitresses even though I didn’t like them. They always judged me because sometimes we came in after I had been dancing and they always tried to take Mr Lowman’s attention away from me; they always spoke to him and flirt with him. It was the most annoying thing in the entire world. They even kept talking to him when he ignored them. I would have just given up. And it really annoyed me when they tried to touch him too. He would just shrug them off.

We walked down the street together, talking about when I get my own house and stuff and how I would decorate it. I had enough money saved up for some furniture and everything; I was actually really proud of myself. I hadn’t even bought any new shoes or anything. The most that I bought was more stuff for when I was dancing; I had more lingerie and dancing shoes than actual clothes.

“You dancing tonight?” Mr Lowman asked, looking down at me and I nodded; I danced almost every night, “You ok I don’t come? I got… stuff to do.”

“Yeah sure,” I shrugged, “I understand. Your stuff’s more important than I am. I get it.”

He nudged me with his elbow and laughed. I was happy he understood that it was a joke. I grabbed onto his arm when he made me stumble over my heels and almost into the road which made him laugh and hold onto me. Every now and again as we walked he would bump my shoulder but not enough to make me stumble again and I would try and bump him back but he literally never moved from the line he was walking in. It wasn’t fair. No matter how hard I tried he just wouldn’t budge.

I said goodbye to him at the end of the street. I was going home to go back to sleep and he was going to work.

“Enjoy your stuff,” I said, bitterly but joking, “see you later.”

“I’m gonna.”

He said it with a weird smile on his face which made me wonder what it was. Did he have a date? Was he meeting a girl? He looked kind of happy so I guessed it might have been.

“Call me when you get home tonight,” he called after me when I started walking down the street, “ok? I wanna know you’re home.”

Whenever he didn’t walk me home he made me either call or text him when I got back to Mr Chibs’ house so he knew I was safe. And if I ever forgot he would either call my phone until I answered or if he was already out he would come to the house to check. I would always get told off when I answered the door. First, he would tell me off for answering the door at 4am when I didn’t know who it was (even though I always knew it was him), then he would lecture me. He wouldn’t shout because Mr and Mrs Chibs were asleep upstairs but I would have to wait until he had stopped telling me off so I could invite him in.

“I will!” I called back and turned to wave at him, smiling.

Mr Lowman was literally the most adorable person I had ever met and I loved him a lot.

(((((((())))))))

The girls in the dressing room had been whispering literally since I had come in and whenever I would look at them they would turn away and go silence. It was weird because they all liked me before I started dancing (when I helped them and stuff) but now literally none of them would even talk to me except for Bambi. It just meant I was really lonely when Bambi wasn’t dancing. Sometimes I was sure they even stole some of my stuff for an entire night then I would magically find it on my dressing table. One time they took my shoes so I had to call Bambi and ask if I could borrow some of hers for the night. That was annoying because her feet were bigger than me.

The only thing that I could hear them saying was something about a “comb killer”. Like, asking if the Comb Killer would be in that night which meant literally nothing to me. All I could think of was maybe it was someone with hair that was hard to comb? Maybe Mr Bobby? But I had never told any of Mr Lowman’s friends that I was a dancer. Then I wondered why they wanted the guy to be in. Did he have a lot of money or something? I spent the entire night looking for a guy with the crazy hair but couldn’t see any in the club.

When I first started dancing I thought it was just going to be dancing but it so wasn’t. Bambi told me that the guys would talk to you about their lives and stuff but I didn’t expect I would basically be a therapist. They would just tell me about their wives and girlfriends and all the debts they were in. I didn’t really know what to say to them so I just listened and made the right noises when they wanted me to agree with them. As it turns out though, when you listened to them and asked questions; pretending you cared and were interested in them, they would pay you more so I continued to do it. Most of the stuff they would say was the most boring things you’ve ever heard but other times I overheard some really interesting stuff like people selling drugs and even guns. I always wondered if I should have gone to the police or something but I wasn’t brave enough. I told Mr Lowman though because he seemed interested in it but I also made him promise not to go to the police.

“-setting up a new business in Nevada,” I heard one man say into his phone when I was walking over to offer him a dance, “but we need to get the sons out.”

“Hey there,” I said to him, putting my hand onto his shoulder and stroked down his arm, “why don’t you put the phone away and have some fun?”

“Hold on Alex, I’ve had an offer I can’t refuse. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I smiled at him and sat across his lap, took the phone out of his hand with a laugh and hung up for him. I slid it in the front pocket of his shirt then patting it gently. The man smirked back at me but it wasn’t as attractive as when Mr Lowman smirked. Like, this guy made me feel weird. He slipped his wallet out of his pocket and I watched while he pulled out a whole wad of dollar bills. I felt my face lighting up as he counted it out.

“If I give you $100,” he asked me, “would you dance for me?”

“Of course honey,” I nodded and swiped some curls away from my face, “where would you like me to keep it?”

Men liked it when you asked them that because it made them think that I cared what they wanted and they got to touch me when normally they wouldn’t be allowed. Surprisingly, he only lifted my bra strap and slid the money underneath it. I uncrossed my legs and stood up, turned to him and started to dance. Although he was kind of creepy, he behaved himself well and didn’t touch me after that. He breathed heavily every time I touched his face and arms which was literally the most off putting thing in the world but not weird.

“You’re setting up a new business in Las Vegas?” I asked him as I danced, “What are you doing?”

“Oh… I can’t really say anything,” he told me with another sly smile, “but it’s top secret and very important. You can trust me on that.”

“You’re important then, huh?”

“You like rich, important men Duchess?”

“They’re my favourite.”

He smiled at my answer as the song ended and I touched his cheek. I did like rich and important men because they reminded me of being at home with Daddy and all of his friends again. They would always call me nice names and give me presents when we went for dinner with them. It was like having loads of dad’s. I waved at him as I walked over to another man who was holding his wallet. But while I danced for other people I could feel the rich man’s eyes on me the entire time.

Hours later, at 2am, I was packing up my stuff to get ready to leave while I listened to the other girls talking.

“I wonder why he didn’t come in tonight,” Kitty whispered to Honey, “because he’s normally here when she’s in.”

“Because he’s probably doing his real job. The Comb Killer, you know?”

I could barely hear them but they were talking about that guy again. Was he a hairstylist? I didn’t get the obsession but I wasn’t going to ask them when they were rude to me all the time. Zipping my money bag up and throwing it into my dance bag I was finally ready to leave. It had been a long night and I literally couldn’t wait to get into bed.

I left the club with a yawn and didn’t notice the two guys stood across the street until I had been walking for a few minutes. I know I was being paranoid but I pulled my phone out of my dance bag and held it tightly in my hands just in case I needed to call the police. I kept walking at my normal pace so it didn’t look like I suspected them of anything but my eyes were darting to them every now and again. At first when they fell behind me I felt relieved until I saw their shadows crossing the street so they could follow me. My heart was now beating so hard I could feel it in my ears and I had tears in my throat. With shaky hands I started to dial a number. At first I thought about the police but then my thumbs started to automatically dial Mr Lowman’s. I knew he was probably with a girl or something but in my panicked thoughts I couldn’t think of any other number I could call.

He answered on the first ring but I was too scared to say anything, just breathed heavily as I tried to stop myself from crying. I could hear the footsteps of the two men behind me getting closer so I turned around to face them; letting them know that I could see their faces and could pick them out if I did go to the police.

“Catherine?” Mr Lowman asked, sounding immediately worried, “Are you ok?”

“Go away!” I shouted at the men, “Stop following me!”

All the guys did was laugh. I didn’t recognise them from the club so I don’t think they were guests; they were just people that hung around outside the club.

“Where are you?” Mr Lowman asked and I could hear him moving around and the jingle of a chain.

“Oakwood Street,” I whispered too him.

“Keep looking at them. Get under a street light. Don’t worry. I’m coming.”

I walked backwards until I was under the large circle of light. The two men just stood slightly away from the light, grinning at me but the sound of Mr Lowman walking and talking quietly to me through the phone gave me something to think about other than the two scary men that stood in front of me. There was something wrong with them. They looked… weird.

“My friend’s on his way,” I told them, “and he’s big and scary and he’s gonna hurt you if you don’t leave me alone.”

The fact that they had said anything was somehow scarier than if they were catcalling me. I never thought that would happen but it was the way they were just stood, still and silent, but the minute they walked forwards into the light I gasped and stumbled backwards over my feet and landed on my butt. The phone fell out of my hands and my bag slipped off my shoulder and onto the floor. I hadn’t zipped it back up when I had got my phone so my money bag fell out and the lighters that I had hidden in the bottom skittered across the concrete.

One of the guys, the shorter one, came close enough to crouch over me.

“Do you want money?” I stammered and tried to reach for the bag, looking up at him with wide eyes, “Here. Take it. Please. Just- just leave me alone.”

I wasn’t feeling brave anymore. I was shaking and trying to get away from him.

“Where’s your big, scary friend?” The tall man asked in a fake high-pitched voice that mocked mine, “Has he given up on you?”

“Big, scary friend,” the other one echoed with a laugh, “where is-”

Then I heard a shout from behind me and before I could turn around to look at who it was, panicking that it was a third man that wanted to hurt me, a large white blur flew over me and knocked the man backwards. I screamed and shuffled backwards when I registered what it was. It was Scrap with his jaws clenched over the guys shoulder, growling and shaking him violently while the man screamed. I could see the blood staining his beautiful white fur. The running footsteps behind me didn’t scare me because I knew Mr Lowman was here.

Suddenly, Mr Lowman ran passed with the chain leash in one hand and something else in the other. He hit the other man across the face with the chain then wrapped it around his neck; forcing him to kneel down in front of his friend that was now unmoving, covered in blood with a large, heavy white dog on top of him.

“Chill out, dude,” the guy said as he clawed at the chain around his neck, “we weren’t gonna hurt her, we just wanted to… play.”

I was breathing heavily in fear and finally let the tears fall down my cheeks. Mr Lowman looked so scary like that. He was only wearing a white tank top and jeans instead of his usual t-shirt and leather vest so I knew I had got him out of bed. Just as the man was starting to lose consciousness he released the chain and threw it to the side. That was when I noticed what the other object in his hand was; it was a knife. He pulled the man’s head back by his hair and put the knife on his throat.

The thing that really scared me was that he was smiling but it wasn’t a nice smile. It was a scary, frightening smile that I felt would probably give me nightmares. He looked like he was enjoying it.

“Why don’t you play with me?” He growled quietly and tugged on his hair again.

The man had blood running down from a large gash on his forehead from where he had been hit with the chain. He was pulled back out of the circle of light but he couldn’t escape, even though he tried, because Mr Lowman’s knife was on his neck. Part of me wanted to get up and run away from him because he was terrifying me but I was frozen. I could only see the shadows of Mr Lowman and the man. Mr Lowman stood up and away from the other guy; letting him up and run away. I could see Mr Lowman turn around to watch the guy stumbling away. When he walked back into the light he didn’t look at me; just picked up the leash and clipped it onto Scrap’s collar. Then he came over and started putting all the stuff back in my bag for me. I didn’t even register that he was picking up the lighters without asking questions about why I had so many.

“Go to Momma,” he said to Scrap who had stayed sat on the other man even though he had his leash attached, gesturing to me.

Scrap stood and walked over to me, the chain scraping across the sidewalk, then nuzzled my hand. Shakily, I stroked his head then I just started crying in relief, in fear, just… everything. Scrap had blood covering his mouth, his chest and his front paws. I sobbed quietly, wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. The big dog, that had probably just killed someone, put his big head on my shoulder and whined quietly.

“Hey,” Mr Lowman murmured and I felt his hand on my back, “come on.”

I looked up at him. His face was completely different to how it was when he was fighting with the man. He didn’t look angry at all anymore; he actually looked kind and worried. I still couldn’t believe what happened. When I called him I had expected he would maybe just threaten them or something not… nearly kill them. I hesitated to stand up and Mr Lowman’s face fell slightly. He stepped back and waited until I had stopped shaking so much. When I could let go of Scrap, Mr Lowman offered his hand to me to help me to stand up but didn’t let go of my hand once I was on my feet.

“Sorry if I scared you.”

“Not if,” I whispered and shook my head, looking down at our sneakers, “not if, Mr Lowman.”

He ducked to look at me, putting his hand on my cheek and making me look at him. The shock of him doing that made me completely unable to stop it. He was so gentle with me, like he always was, not like with that man.

“I’m sorry,” he said, nodding and his eyes searching my face.

“I just… wanna go home… Please.”

Mr Lowman nodded again and put the bag over his shoulder before picking up the handle of the leash and handing it to me so I could walk back with Scrap. As we walked, Mr Lowman pulled his phone out of his pocket and talked quickly to Mr Chibs.

“Yeah, she’s not hurt… I’ve got her. I’m bringing her home,” he said, “you can stop worrying.”

He put the phone away and walked beside me in silence. I was gripping Scrap’s leash really tightly in my hands to stop them from shaking. I couldn’t believe what I had just seen; he was so scary and vicious and violent. That wasn’t him. He wasn’t like that. Mr Lowman was a nice man, a good man that was kind to me. That wasn’t my Mr Lowman.

As soon as I rounded the corner of the street I could see the door of Mr Chibs’ house open with a figure stood against the hall light. I felt tears in my throat when I saw Romeo running towards us through the street lights. He jumped up at Scrap, wagging his little curly tail and bouncing around. Romeo didn’t care that his best friend was covered in blood; he was just happy to see him. Scrap bent his massive head down to say hello. When I walked closer I saw Mr Chibs standing in the doorway with his arms folded and his eyebrows furrowed.

“It’s not mine,” I whispered to him when he looked at my blood covered clothes, giving him the handle of the leash and pushing passed him to run up the stairs.

I needed to shower the blood off of myself. I didn’t know if Mr Lowman would stay or not but right now I just needed to be on my own.

((((((((()))))))

After I felt cleaner and had calmed down I got out of the shower and went downstairs. I pulled the big shirt down a bit further when I saw Mr Lowman sat in the armchair with Romeo on his lap and Scrap’s bloody chin on his knee. He looked so soft. Scrap looked cleaner too; like he had been washed. Mr Chibs was sat on the edge of my bed so it looked like they had been talking. When I coughed Mr Chibs stood up and walked towards me.

“I’m gonna leave you to talk, alright? I’ll be upstairs.” Mr Chibs said, kissing the top of my head as he walked by.

“Night Daddy,” I whispered.

“Goodnight Sweetheart.”

Mr Lowman was smirking when he looked at me which made me feel only slightly more self-conscious than I already did. I know I did dancing as a job but it was different in the club; I felt different when I had all the makeup on and the hair extensions in. When I was Duchess I was brave and cool and sexy but as Catherine I felt awkward and shy about being almost naked in front of people.

“Hey,” Mr Lowman said when Mr Chibs’ footsteps had gone all the way up the stairs and into his bedroom.

“Are you gonna explain that?”

I pointed towards the door, as if to gesture back to where he had just brutally attacked the two scary men. He sighed and stayed quiet while I sat down on my bed then faced him. I looked at him, trying to stay calm and waited while he thought about what he was going to say.

“Didn’t want them to hurt you,” was all he said with a shrug.

“Yeah but-”

“When I was a kid, 17, I went to juvie. I didn’t get out until I was your age.”

I didn’t know what to say. Juvie? Somehow I couldn’t imagine Mr Lowman as a kid. But I could see him as someone who had been to prison. As soon as I saw him for the first time I knew he was a criminal. I had just been lying to myself that he was a completely innocent man because he was so kind. I also knew that good people did bad things sometimes as well though, I wasn’t that stupid. You could literally tell just by looking at him that he had been to prison. And the way that he had attacked those men looked way too easy for him; like he had done that before. People aren’t just violent out of nowhere.

“It was for selling drugs,” he continued when I didn’t say anything, “Ma never had much money and I wanted to help her. No one hires kids. This guy down the street sold weed and was looking for more kids to run for him.”

I suspected there was more to the story. Back in home kids didn’t even get arrested for selling weed because their parents just bailed them out but I knew him and his mom struggled for money so he couldn’t have done that but still.

“Then I got bigger. People are scared of me so I started my own racket. Made me lots of cash and helped Ma pay the bills and bought her stuff. Got busted when I was 17.”

“Then what?” I asked shakily which making him look up at me as I fiddled with the hem of my shirt, “You don’t go to prison for 6 years just for that.”

“There was this kid,” he spoke quietly and his face darkened, “a nazi shithead. I hated him. Everyone hated him. The things he did to the other kids…” he shook his head and looked away, “I had too. No one else did anything about him.”

Had too… what? No I was scared but I think I knew the answer. I could hear my heart beating in my ears and feel it everywhere that I had a pulse. I felt like crying.

“Stole a screwdriver from the shop class. Got him in the stomach and the throat ‘round the back of the building. They kept me away from the rest of the kids sent me to the adult prison when I was 19.”

“I bet that was really scary,” I whispered, trying to keep the tears out of my voice but I knew it wasn’t working.

His arms tightened around Romeo and for a second I was worried he would suffocate him but then I realised what he was doing. He was cuddling him in the same way that I did when I was sad or scared or nervous and I knew that, despite his serious and scary face, he was upset. His strong, tattooed arms circles around my little dog and Mr Lowman looked at me steadily for a couple of seconds. The silence was heavy before he clenched his jaw and nodded.

I know he had literally just told me that he had killed someone, a kid, but that didn’t stop him being my best friend. I stopped messing with the hem of my shirt, leaving it wrinkled, and stretched my hand out to him. Almost immediately after I did he stood up, took two steps and was sat beside me. Romeo jumped onto the bed when Mr Lowman let me put my arms around him and cuddled him closely. He let out a long, heavy breath as if he had been holding it for a long time as he settled into my hug. He had gotten better at hugs since I had met him and I took full responsibility for that; I hugged him and everyone all the time so he had no choice but to practise being good at affection.

“I’m still scared of you,” I murmured to him, putting my hand on his cheek while looked over his face, “but that was a long time ago, right? It’s different now.”

He didn’t say anything, just put his head down before leaning to put his head on my shoulder so I could hug him closer. I couldn’t help the small smile from coming onto my mouth as he kind of snuggled closer.

“Are you staying over?”

“Can’t,” Mr Lowman said and shook his head, “Ma’s not doing so good today.”

Suddenly I felt so selfish and guilty. It was like my stomach dropped to my knees and I just felt so bad. Why didn’t I think of that? I knew he looked after his mom and I still called him when I was scared. I should have just called Mr Chibs or Mr Kozik, Mr Juice even but the only person I could think of was him.

“Sorry! I didn’t even think- I should have- I know she’s important and-”

He chuckled and pushed me away but put his hand on the side of my neck with his thumb on my cheek. He was smiling slightly as he shook his head and leaned in closer to me.

“You’re important too,” he said then kind of awkwardly pulled me forwards to kiss my forehead.

I closed my eyes when his lips made contact with my skin and clenched my hand tightly. He had never kissed me before. But then, for some reason something else entirely entered my head. It was like I didn’t hear it until just then.

“You called me Momma,” I said and he pulled back slightly, “and Scrap knew who I was.”

His smirk turned sheepish then he shrugged, “Romeo knows you’re his Momma. Scrap picked it up.”

“You call me Momma even when I’m not there?”

He pulled a face but it was obvious that the heavy atmosphere from earlier had almost gone. I hadn’t forgotten though and I’m pretty sure that I would be having nightmares for at least a couple of nights.

“Make sure you lock the door behind me,” he said, not answering my question.

I narrowed my eyes at him but nodded and stood up with him. I followed him to the front door, saying goodbye to Scrap and thanking him for coming to help me with Mr Lowman. Romeo trotted to the door so I picked him up.

“Say goodbye to Daddy,” I said to him, smirking over his head at Mr Lowman who rolled his eyes, then picking up his paw and making him wave.

“Nah. You call me Papi.”

“Papi.” I echoed in confusion.

His eyes darkened again and the smile on his face was different again but he didn’t say anything; just nodded again, touched my cheek then turned to leave with Scrap trotting next to him. I shut the door then locked it, like he told me too, before going back into the living room. We sat on the bed, Romeo whining because his friend had left, but I felt like I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Whenever I did fall asleep I kept seeing Scrap almost eating that man and the way Mr Lowman looked so happy when he was strangling the other one. I’m sure my imagination was making it way worse than it actually was but it was still scary. Even though he frightened me I still wanted to be really selfish and wanted him to stay over. He stayed over so much lately that I had started to feel lonely without him. I cuddled Romeo to try and make myself less lonely.

When I did eventually fall asleep I had a nightmare. It was Mr Lowman again but it wasn’t what I thought it would be. It was the other way around. He was being attacked by two men and I tried to help, to get the men off of him but it was like I didn’t exist. My hands just went through them and I couldn’t pull him away so I just had to listen to him shouting and I had to watch him die. That was when the image of Daddy came back into my mind except instead of just Daddy in the back of the car, Mr Lowman was there too. It was like I couldn’t stop myself setting the fire and when I tried to leave my feet stayed planted in the dirt so all I could see was Mr Lowman burning away. Then, from behind me I heard Uncle Jerry’s voice saying, “Good girl Catherine.”

It felt so real that I woke up sweating and crying; breathing heavily and shaking. I sat up quickly and looked around. It was still dark but I felt like I was being watched. I don’t know if that was real or not but I didn’t want to risk it so I stood up really fast and ran up the stairs to get into Mr Chibs’ room. I didn’t even care if he and Mrs Chibs were doing couple stuff because, unlike before, I just didn’t want to be alone.

They were still asleep, cuddled up together and completely unaware of how terrifying it was.

“Catherine?” Mrs Chibs asked tiredly, like she had just woken up, “Is that you? Are you alright?”

I couldn’t speak, only whimpered and sniffed. In the light coming from the moon outside I saw her nudge Mr Chibs awake. He spluttered as he was elbowed in the stomach then asked her what she wanted irritably.

“Sorry,” I whispered, putting my arms around my waist and hugged myself, “I just- I had a real bad nightmare and… I thought someone was downstairs but I don’t know and- I was just scared. I don’t know.”

“Come on,” Mr Chibs said with a smile in his voice, “Come sleep with Dad and Mum.”

Mrs Chibs chuckled and moved over so there was a small gap that looked like it might fit me in it. I felt kind of weird because I hadn’t done this since I was a kid but I just really needed comforting and I didn’t want to call Mr Lowman again. I climbed up on the mattress and squeezed myself in between them. Mr Chibs kissed the back of my head and put his arm over me and reached over so that he was cuddling Mrs Chibs as well.

“I’m sorry, Mr Chibs.”

“I got my girls.” he said quietly, “As long as you’re both happy I’m happy. Now go back to sleep and I’ll get you up later.”

I nodded and didn’t say anything else. When I went to sleep this time I didn’t have any nightmares but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.

(((((((())))))))

Yoooooooooo!!- What do we think kiddos? Happy is perhaps starting to open up.

Do we think someone was watching her or was it just her imagination?

How will her house hunting go? Will Catherine get her pool?

Who were those guys? Just random creeps or something else?

Who was the man on the phone?

All this and more in the next chapter of Duchess…

Sorry my old love of Saturday morning cartoons just came back to me.

I hope you enjoyed it and I’ll see you in the next one!

Love, Doe xxxxxxxx

#duchess #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy headcanon #happy lowman #happy lowman x oc #happy lowman imagine #happy lowman headcanon #happy lowman fanfiction

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theangriestpea · 5 years

Text

Mercy Killing

TW: alcohol abuse, suicide reference

A/N: Also taking requests for anyone interested, just drop it in my ask box :}

Apologies on how short this chapter is but the ending felt /right/

Chapter Twelve: Confessions

Sweet Pea was pacing in Fangs’ room while the Latino boy looked up at him curiously. He knew Sweet Pea and Lavender had spent the night together the night before. Lavender had mentioned it to him at school about how much of an ass Sweet Pea was.

He wish they’d just fuck again already and get it over with.

Fangs could only assume that this was about something that happened. Maybe Sweets had finally realized his feelings or maybe he realized that Kitty wasn’t worth his time. “You’re burning tracks into my carpet, bro.” Fangs finally said so that Sweet Pea would stop his frantic back and forth.

“You can’t tell Lavender I told you.” Sweet Pea said quickly. Fangs’ eyebrows rose quizzically. Perhaps Lavender was the one that made the confession? Even though she was now with James? Fangs despised the boy more and more after seeing how Lavender’s behavior had changed once they became an item. She was spiraling. Hard.

Fangs looked up at the giant, “so you two finally admitted your feelings for one another? She’s seeing you behind James’ back? You’re dumping Kitty to pine after Lavender like you’re meant to?”

Sweet Pea gave him a confused look, pretending to not know at all what Fangs was talking about. “What? No! Lavender told me last night that James is a Ghoulie. She made me promise not to tell anyone.”

Fury crossed Fangs’ face, “What?” He asked lowly, his mood turning like the tide. “That asshole is a ghoul? Did he-“

“Yes.” Sweet Pea cut him off, not wanting to hear the question. “He was one of them, yes! She doesn’t want me to do anything about it! I don’t know what to do, it’s eating me alive knowing she’s with him day in and day out. He’s threatening to hurt her again. He’s leaving bruises on her. Fangs, we have to do something without telling the other Serpents.”

Fangs stood up from his bed, fists clenched into tight balls. “I thought she was just drinking more because the shock of it all had finally gone away and she was finally living with what happened. Damn it, how’d she even get herself in this mess?”

“She didn’t say but I think there’s more to the situation than she was letting on.” Sweet Pea added. “I think they’re targeting her for a reason.”

The smaller boy nodded in agreement. “Although, he is a Ghoulie. This could just be for his sadistic pleasure.” Fangs pointed out, knowing that the Ghoulies had absolutely no ethics or code of honor. “What are we going to do?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet…”

*~~~~~~~~~~~*

“All of this needs to be gone by tomorrow, got it?” James asked, watching Lavender place the package of Jingle Jangle into her bag.

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, “all of it? I barely sold half of what you gave me yesterday!”

“Every. Last. Straw.” James said, enunciating each word. “Or there will be consequences. Now, get to work.” He said, slapping her on the ass to make her hurry along. Everyone else might have seen it as a sign of affection but to her it was just a symbolism of his control over her and her body. It made her sick. In fact, she would have puked if there had been a convenient place to do it. Instead she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and high tailed it to her car. She didn’t know how she was supposed to do this.

She couldn’t just sell them at a cheaper rate because then she would have to cover costs. It might be an easier loss than not selling at all. After unlocking her car door she reached into her bag and pulled out her pink flask. She glanced around to make sure no one was looking before taking a large gulp of the vodka inside. The burn of the alcohol was better than the burn of stomach acid she had just felt.

Quickly she tucked the flask back into her bag. Her grip on the steering wheel tight as she took a shallow breath. There was faint aching in her ribs that she tried to focus on. Feeling pain was better than feeling nothing at all. She was so numb from constantly consuming alcohol. She didn’t want to face her emotions. The terrible things that might happen to her if she didn’t do as her new boyfriend asked. There was nothing she could do and she knew it.

Lav drove to the coffee shop, clocked in and put her apron on. She got behind the counter and served customers with a tipsy smile. More than a few times she got the request for something extra with their coffee and she obliged. She decided to sell the JJ buy two get one free just to get rid of it. She sold more, yes, but what she gave away for free she’d have to pay for. Her barely above minimum wage job would have to cover it. Luckily she had money saved from her father’s life insurance to pay her bills.

More than once she went to the back, pretending to get supplies and instead was drinking more and more. The guilt eating away at her like a disease. The money she was making would have gone to groceries but now it’s going to the Ghoulies. What would she eat? What if she couldn’t afford more alcohol? Shit, she should ration it but then she’d start feeling again.

She tipped back the flask, the last drop sliding out onto her tongue. Lavender cursed, not hearing the door open behind her.

“Shanna, what are you doing?” She quickly snapped her head to see her manager standing there, looking at her with a disapproving look. “Are you drunk?”

“N-No!” She stammered, trying to hide the flask behind her back. “I’m just not feeling well tonight! I’ve got this head cold that’s really getting to me.” She lied, thinking that maybe it’d excuse her strange behavior. She wasn’t drunk, she was sick.

Her manager didn’t seem to buy it. “Go home, Shanna. If you’re sick then you need to rest.”

“I can’t!” Lavender said back quickly. If she left then she couldn’t sell the rest of the drugs. She’d lose even more money. There was no way she could cover cost! “I’m fine, really. I can finish tonight, I promise!”

Her manager lifted up her hand to silence her. “No, clock out and go home. I’ll call someone in to finish your shift.” The older woman gave the teen a reassuring smile. “You look like you could use some extra sleep.”

Tears started welling in Lavender’s eyes but she did not let them spill. “Let me clean up first.” She said softly, grabbing her bag from her locker before walking behind the counter. She quickly stashed what was left in the drugs in her bag before leaving, stumbling a little as she did so from the mixture of raw emotion and alcohol. She knew she shouldn’t drive, but what was she to do?

She started her car and drove as carefully as she could home, going slower than usual and trying to keep the tears back. She hadn’t counted how much she had left but it had to have been several hundred dollars’ worth. Much more than she could really afford to have not sold. This was a nightmare.

*~~~~~~~~~~~*

Sweet Pea received yet another garbled text from Lavender. He knew she was supposed to be at work and told Fangs he’d check on her later when she was off to make sure she wasn’t drinking herself into oblivion. Maybe he lost track of time? He glanced at the clock but it was only half passed five. Lav didn’t usually get off until eight or nine.

Something must have happened then. He stood up from his couch and grabbed his leather jacket, throwing it on. He looked at his duffle that had spare clothes in them for when he spent the night with her and grabbed it too just in case. He wanted to spend more nights with her. Often times he was more worried than not. She reminded him too much of his brother sometimes.

He started drinking too. After he came home from deployment. He’d have a far out look in his eye as he chugged back bottles of bourbon. Never sleeping or eating, just wasting away on the couch.

It wasn’t long before Pea found him, gun in hand, blood sprayed across the room, a note taped onto his dog tags that he never took off. I need to stop the war zone in my head. I’m sorry.

He knew Lavender had a war zone going on in her head too. How could she not? He had to intervene before it was too late. Before she wound up like him. He couldn’t handle the thought of cradling the body of someone else he loved while screaming out to God to bring them back.

For a moment he hesitated, did he love her? That was a strange thought.

Sweet Pea shook his head and walked the few blocks down to her trailer. Her car was parked crookedly in the driveway. Christ did she drive home after drinking? Anger welled in the pit of his stomach. Why was she being so careless? Not only could she have killed herself, she could have killed someone else.

This had to stop.

Sweet Pea tried to open the door but it was locked. He banged on the door for her to open it for him. He wish she’d just give him a key.

The door cracked open to show Lavender with mascara running down her face. Damn if she didn’t make it look beautiful. Sweet Pea walked in when she moved to the side for him.

“What happened?” Sweet Pea asked hesitantly, not really wanting her to get even more upset. “Why aren’t you at work?”

“I’m dead, Pea, I’m dead.” Lavender said, hiccuping back a cry. “He’s going to kill me if I don’t come up with the money, or worse.”

He stood there awkwardly, wanting to hug her but also not thinking that was entirely appropriate. “Money for what?”

She stumbled over to her bag and opened it to show him the colorful paper straws inside. His eyes widened. “He has you selling Jingle Jangle?” Sweet Pea asked, his voice raised much higher than it was before. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?!”

“I couldn’t!” Lav replied, more tears finally escaping her red eyes. “And he said I had to sell it all today but my manger told me to leave early because I told her I was sick to cover up….” Her voice trailed off.

“To cover up you being drunk.” Sweet Pea said flatly, irritation edging his tone. “You can’t go to work drunk! Did you seriously drive home like this?”

Lavender put her face in her hands to hide it, turning her back to him to cry in what her drunken mind thought was peace. She didn’t want to be like this. She didn’t want to be so dependent on alcohol to cope with living. But here she was, living the nightmare that was now her life. “What was I supposed to do?” She said in a muffled voice.

“Call me! Call Fangs! Toni! Literally anyone!” Sweet Pea shot back quickly, not wanting to go easy on her despite the way she was looking. “You don’t need to drive drunk! Keller would have thrown your ass in jail if one of his deputies had caught you. Then they would have searched your car and found the Jingle Jangle. You think we can afford bail for a DUI and possession with an intent to distribute? Jesus Christ, Shanna, just think about someone other than yourself for once!”

“Why did you come?” She yelled back at him, holding her head up and turning to look at him with wide, angry eyes. “Why did you come if you are just going to scream at me about how stupid I am? Like you always do?!”

“Because I care about you!” Sweet Pea said, practically screaming it now. He was so damn frustrated with her that he couldn’t even think straight. The words just spilled from his mouth, “I don’t want to see you hurt! What else does Colt have you doing, huh? Is he pimping you out too?” The last part was his desperate attempt to change the subject.

It was too late.

Lavender was staring at him with wide eyes, having not even heard his last two questions. “Sweet Pea…” She said softly, her eyes warm with fresh tears. A beautiful feeling blossomed in her heart. A passionate heat flooded her veins as she looked at him trying his best to recover from what he had said. He no longer looked angry, red tinting his tan cheeks. He looked like he was about to curse.

She took a few steps closer so that she was right in front of him. She reached up and grabbed his face, her gaze hazy as she tried to focus on him through her intoxication. Sweet Pea was frozen in place, not knowing how to react. He’d never actually believed he’d tell her out loud that he cared about her. He could barely even think it to himself.

Unfortunately she was too short to kiss him, even if she went up on her tippy toes. Instead she pulled his head down to give him the hint to bend over. He didn’t fight it, his back bending as he leaned down towards her. Lavender rose up on her toes and planted the gentlest kiss on his lips. An affirmation of her own feelings towards him.

Sweet Pea had never been kissed tenderly before. Even his first kiss had been a fight of passion. He didn’t know how to react, stiffening at first. No one ever treated him this way. No one was ever soft to him. It felt so bizarre yet comforting and knowing that she shared his feelings made him feel so…alive.

He kissed her back as lightly as he could, wanting to show her that he could be gentle too. She already knew though. She’d seen it first hand when he tended to her wounds. The way he held her at night. It all felt so perfect.

They parted slightly, still staying close. “You taste like a distillery.” Sweet Pea mumbled to her and Lavender could do nothing but laugh.

#mercykilling #purpuraserpenta #tw suicide #tw alcohol #sweet pea #sweet pea x oc #sp x oc #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #sweet pea fanfiction #sweet pea fanfic #riverdale fanfic #riverdale oc #fanfiction #fanfic #swavie #fangs fogarty

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septic-dr-schneep · 5 years

Text

JSE Commission - Stepping Stones

Summary: Commission for @luvstoriesatstoplights2. After a car accident robs him of his legs, his family and his joy, Chase copes through entries in his journal. Perhaps, with time and effort, he can heal through them too.

April 11th

Well…hey there, diary, it’s Chase Brody. That sounds stupid already, but I’m writing with this pen Jackieboy got me, so I can’t go back and fix it. Whatever.

Apparently having a diary or a journal is supposed to be therapeutic. If I need to clear my head, I can just write down whatever I’m thinking about here, put it all out where it’s private and I don’t have to worry about anyone else judging me for it. Jackieboy says it’s gonna help with my healing, but I don’t think he gets it. It’s my legs that need healing and writing here isn’t going to do anything about that. I’m trying it just so he’ll stop bringing it up.

So…I’m supposed to talk about what’s going on in my head. Honestly, it’s the same old stuff kicking up because I’m too depressed to put it all behind me. Yay, me!

I’m not feeling great.

I dreamt about it all again this morning—the same old dream about the crash. It woke me up before Schneep came in, but I tried to look like I was still sleeping. After dreaming all night about those paramedics dragging me out of the van, I didn’t really want his help. Pretty simple to understand. But if I’d let him go without getting me up, I’d have to just lie there and think about the dream for ages until he came back to try again. Who knows when that would be?

I wish it was just a dream, but every time I wake up and I try to turn over to get away from it, I can’t.

I just…

I wish Stacy was with me.

Anyway, Schneep was really gentle today—a lot nicer than yesterday, at least. To be fair, I know I wasn’t exactly cooperative when it came to the whole showering thing. They finally got it fully modified so I can roll in with the chair and Schneep’s been saying for a while that towel baths aren’t “efficient” enough.

He probably just wants me to start becoming more independent, which, yeah, is a good thing, but then he was telling me how much it cost to get it changed. Yeeeah, telling me how much trouble you’re going to for me really helps to boost the self-esteem, buddy. So I told him I was sorry if I took up too much of his precious budget; maybe it would’ve been cheaper if he’d let me try and crawl there. I think I startled him, but that didn’t last long. We got in a big fight about it and…well, let’s just say I never showered.

It wasn’t a good day for either of us. I know it was a misunderstanding and I know I hurt Schneep’s feelings with everything else I said, so I can’t really blame him for biting back. But now he’s being all quiet and tiptoeing around me and I feel bad for making him feel bad about it.

Wow. I guess I did have a lot on my mind.

***

April 23rd

Counseling sucks.

How do they expect me to sit there and talk about everything with this lady who’s walking around on her own two feet? And Marvin’s right there in the room watching! It’s not like I’m going to open up at all with him there, but I don’t want him to leave me alone with her either.

Basically I stalled and went around in circles as much as I could until we ran out of time. I’m pretty sure both of them knew what I was doing, but what’s weird is they didn’t try to stop me. Marv barely said a word at all, and the lady just kept asking questions in this really irritating “patient voice”. Does she practice that every morning? She’s got to, there’s no way she could grate on me that much without putting a lot of effort into it.

Counseling’s never done anything for me. Didn’t stop Stacy either, did it?

The shrink’s voice sounds like hers and I hate it.

***

April 30th

Talked to Schneep and Jackie and I’m trying a different counselor today. We’ll see how it goes.

***

May 17th

The kids finally convinced Stacy to let them call. I cried, I couldn’t help it. Why has she made them wait so long? I’ve missed so much! I HATE FEELING LIKE I’M NOT THERE FOR THEM!

I hate not being there for them.

Connor doesn’t like it at their new school. He says there are bullies, but Brianna’s been trying to stick up for him. Just about gave me a heart attack when she said she got hurt…No nine-year-old should be getting her arm broken at school to protect her brother. What are you thinking, Stacy? Their old school was the best one for them! Oh, but because it’s closer to me and you don’t want to be within a fifty-mile radius of a “burden”, you take them there? Great, awesome, mother of the year!

…Getting off track.

Bri said they decorated the cast to be really pretty. I keep imagining it like the armrests on my chair, with all the smiley faces and heart stickers they put on.

I miss them.

***

June 11th

I can’t do this anymore, I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I CAN’T DO IT, I CAN’T DO IT, I CAN’T

WHY CAN’T I DO ANYTHING ON MY OWN?

I HATE MYSELF

I HATE BEING USELESS

I HATE NEEDING HELP

I HATE EVERYTHING

***

June 12th

Haven’t gotten out of bed. Marv came in to keep me company. I don’t deserve him. I’m pathetic.

He’s asleep now.

I wish I could fall asleep that easily. I wanna sleep without dreaming about it anymore. I close my eyes for one second and all I see is the bridge and the black ice. I hear the kids and Stacy screaming and crying and I can’t move. I can’t do a thing.

I’m tired.

***

July 10th

Showering’s gotten a little easier. Well, no, not easier, but I’m more used to it. Schneep’s pretty proud.

While I was waiting for the water to warm up and he was off getting a change of clothes for me, I turned myself around and tried a wheelie for a minute. That was…actually kinda fun, even if I ran into the counter like an idiot.

I miss doing stunts. I never actually put up a video explaining what happened; I haven’t even gone on to find out if the channel still has any subscribers. Should get to that sometime, just to see.

***

July 24th

Counseling was actually kinda nice today. It was good to get some things off my chest.

He asked if I still felt guilty for needing the others to help me.

It’s weird, but I’m not really sure. It’s just…life now.

***

August 15th

I can’t believe I’m actually considering this.

Marv took me somewhere a few days ago. Said he wanted to show me this amazing surprise and that he knew I’d love it, which is kind of ironic. I reminded him that it was his birthday, not mine, but he said this would be a gift to himself too, if we were lucky. What’s that supposed to mean?

He took me to this paralytic training center and there were a ton of people in wheelchairs there playing sports—swimming, tennis and basketball and volleyball, even horseback riding. I had no idea that was a thing! It was a surprise, that’s for sure. Marvin kept watching me to see my reaction. Yes, Marv, I noticed; you’re not exactly subtle.

I was…I don’t know, maybe a little mad at first. I thought it was his way of saying, “This is where you should be by now! Why haven’t you been making progress like they are?” But we kept watching it all happen and when our guide left us alone for a minute, he looked at me and…he was crying.

He hasn’t cried since the accident. Not that I’ve seen, at least. But before I could ask if he was okay, he asked me, “Is something like this what you might want someday?”

Like he was giving me a choice. I haven’t had a choice to make for myself in a while now, least not when it comes to the chair, so to think that I could somehow choose to end up like those people…To be asked if I wanted to…I’ll be honest, that scared me a little.

I’m still scared, cause…I think it might be.

I think I do want that.

I’m actually considering Bro Average again and it terrifies me.

***

August 22nd

I’m heading back to the studio. I’m probably insane.

***

September 9th

Got the last of the ramps secured today and I think I like them so far. I’ve been doing some more with the wheelies and planning a few different kinds of spins that I can practice.

The crew is pretty happy that I’ve been calling them again, and the others are excited! Well, Jackieboy and Marvin are. Schneep’s nervous, I can tell, but I just have to keep telling him that I want to go somewhere. I want to make myself good for something. Bro Average was the most fun I ever had and I want to have it again, even if it’s different.

Maybe if When I put out my first wheelchair video, Brianna and Connor could see it. <3

***

September 27th

Why does this have to be so HARD? “Oh, sure, I can do all these tricks and do something useful with my life!” That’s it, smart guy, go ahead and break your face and a camera while you’re trying to impress everyone! I’m supposed to know this stuff by now! I’ve been practicing it for weeks!

Why do I even bother setting goals? I’m just gonna fall short like I always do! Too many expectations for half a man, right, Stacy?

Why did I ever think I could do this again?

***

October 7th

It’s eating at me all the time. Everything I did wrong. I’m gonna try it again.

***

November 25th

I LANDED THREE HANDPLANTS! I LANDED THREE HANDPLANTS IN! A!! ROW!!! Tried to make it a fourth, but it didn’t work out. Jackieboy almost tried to help me when he saw me start skidding, but Marvin kept him back. Said I needed to take the hit and get back up, and I did. At least I didn’t cry like a baby this time, haha. Actually, I haven’t done that in a while. It’s felt pretty good <3

Anyway, the video’s coming out tomorrow and I just know everybody’s gonna flip out! I got a comment from Bri and Connor on the last one. I hope they get to watch this one too!

***

December 2nd

The doc brought up something today and it’s so weird…With everything I’ve been doing and planning and thinking about, I hadn’t noticed.

The nightmare’s gone.

I’ve been dreaming of better things.

#youtube #jacksepticeye #fanfiction #youtube fanfiction #writersofjack #commission #chase brody #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #dr schneeplestein #chase brody's family #alternate universe #angst #feels for days #eventual happy ending

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