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#school shootings trigger warning
jazzyfrog · 1 year
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Negative Post.
TW: School Sh00ting from Nashville
This is sad and sickening.
I am crying.
This is purely to spread awarenes.
I am crying. No one deserves this. This is also what makes all trans people look horrible. My condolences go out ti those affected by this. My heart is out to all the Nashville families. To thise who lost their kids, I an so sorry. I would help if I could. I am so sorry this has happened. This can’t keep happening. Ben, please talk about this…
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goldeneyedgirl · 7 months
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AILess Whumptober Day 5: Held at Gunpoint
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silence. (day 5: held at gunpoint).
twilight, alice/jasper, pg, post-twilight. canon-verse. trigger warnings: school shooting, mention of suicide.
This prompt was so cursed, I can't even. I just had such a hard time with it, but we persevere. It definitely ended up way longer than I wanted and like... it's done. It's fantastically wonky, but hopefully it works.
Day 6 will be politely skipped over for now, and we resume tomorrow with Day 7.
There are many, many things that Alice Cullen has never done. She’s never eaten ice cream, she’s never fallen asleep, she’s never accidentally cut herself. She can’t, but that’s beside the point - on the list of things and experiences she’s had in her life time, they remain absent.
There are million little things she never got to do. It’s not something she thinks about much; she’s seen and done and had so many other beautiful, wonderful, fantastic experiences that what she has missed out on don’t seem to matter that much. How many people get to dance barefoot under the Northern Lights? How many people get to go on long, lazy tours of entire continents without a single responsibility in the world? Not to have to worry about where their next meal is coming from? Or know that they can always study a different degree next go-round?
When she does get to mentally cross off a new experience, it’s usually with joy. The list gets shorter the older she gets, so new things are almost always wonderful.
But this time… well, she’s sorry that this will be an experience that she gets to cross off her list. More for her classmates than herself.
But then, maybe it’s becoming the quintessential American high school experience and this moment was inevitable.
(The silence is chilling.)
Study hall in the library is the one class she doesn’t have with Edward, Bella, or Jasper. She thought about changing it, but they all decided that having one of them not in class could be potentially useful to them - not to mention that it’s fine and healthy for Jasper to have classes without her. Esme’s always lovingly exasperated when the school sends messages home that they’re bordering on unhealthily codependent and maybe someone should look into that. This was a positive step towards looking more normal.
So she had kept study hall after lunch and now she’s sitting next to Nicole Casey who is trying not to cry, second-guessing her choices. Samantha Wells is two seats down and shaking perceptibly and every single one of them are staring very hard at their books.
She’s so very, very glad Bella had Bio with Edward after lunch.
(She can feel the ghost of her heart pounding in her ears as she tries to find a way out. But her gift won’t settle, as the future fluctuates.)
Forks is small enough that it’s hard not to know something about everyone, especially classmates - Beth’s mother has made several inappropriate passes at Emmett, Lee Stephen’s little sister has just gone into remission from leukemia, Jennifer Ford can’t manage to keep a part-time job longer than a month. Just useless nonsense that she habitually picks up for no reason.
Which is why when Kirk stormed into the library, the hair stood up on the back of her neck. He was always one of the quiet ones, slipping through the crowds without notice, coming into study hall with his head down and taking the first seat at the left-hand desk. He listened to angry music the whole time, and ignored everyone else. He was the occasional punchline to a joke, but mostly he was just another face in the junior class. Except…
Kirk’s father had been one of the workers laid off recently, when another lumber company closed up shop. A lot of families had been struggling lately, another closure had made things worse for the town, and there was only so much that could be done - Esme made sure the local food pantry was overflowing (anonymously, of course), the Cullens made regular donations of clothing to the church and the local thrift store, and Carlisle was volunteering for as many shifts in the walk-in clinic that he could get away with.
Work would come, she had seen that. By the end of summer, things would pick up again. But it wasn’t like they could tell people that, or that it made time speed up. They just had to wait.
And worry and stress created anger, and anger could come out in so many ways - like the men that lined up outside the liquor store and the one bar on the end of the town limits. The yelling and frustration towards everyone still surviving and thriving - they’d started driving Emmett’s Jeep to school, much to Rosalie’s displeasure. And the bruises that littered Kirk’s face, the way the kid hid inside his hoodie and glared at anyone that walked past. Jasper had visibly recoiled from the boy when he got too close, the distaste he had visible on his face from whatever emotions Kirk was emitting.
Oh, Jasper. She wishes he was here, so she could hold his hand. But she’s glad he’s not because she can practically feel the tension and fear and rage in this room right now; if he were here, he’d be suffering.
(Rob Sawyer is starting to wheeze, and Mrs Garcia is visibly crying. This is going to get worse before it gets better.)
“…think you’re better than me!” Kirk rants, pacing, the gun shiny and obscene in one hand. There’s a bullet hole in the check-out desk - a warning shot. “How many times, Sawyer? Huh? Since middle school?” Suddenly the gun is pressed to Rob Sawyer’s temple, and the boy squeezes his eyes shut, his lungs straining for oxygen. He is as white as a ghost, his skin waxy white, and it’s a long way from the boy that offered her a flower on Valentine’s Day last year because ‘Hale needed to know there was competition’ with a wink and a grin.
She’s waiting for the shot, waiting for the sound of the body hitting the ground.
Just as suddenly as he jammed the gun against Rob, Kirk moves on. He’d just walked into the library like a thunderstorm, reached into his backpack and pulled out the gun - a handgun, most likely used by his parents to ‘protect their home’. She hadn’t even seen it coming, because he hadn’t made the choice to take it out, to do this, right up until that exact moment.
She didn’t even know how long he’d been carrying it around. She’d never seen anything. She can’t even see how this is going to end. Everything is in flux.
Kirk’s walking round their seats now, reciting their sins and pressing the gun against their skin. Sara turned him down in middle school, Cole beat him up last year for some reason that isn’t mentioned. A laundry list of crimes that he hisses and yells and sneers back at them, grotesquely empowered to stand his ground now. She keeps her gaze fixed on the table. She can feel the metal of her seat bending where her hand is gripping it, and she has to take a breath and calm herself.
(The very, very worst thing that could happen is that Kirk does shoot one of them. Free-flowing blood… she’s intensely aware that in this moment, that will break her.)
He’s around at her table now, and she’s trying to brace herself for what comes next. She’s never had a gun pointed at her before - except for Emmett’s paintball guns; she’d been more mad that he’d point a paintball gun at her vintage Alaia, honestly. And Jasper has some vintage guns, sentimental collectibles, but even though a bullet wouldn’t do anything more than ruin her outfit, he’d rip off his own arms before he pointed a gun at his wife.
So this is new. Very new.
“Nicole Casey,” Kirk says in that sing-song voice that is unnerving. “The one who started the rumour that I pad my swimsuit because someone this ‘scrawny couldn’t have anything worthwhile going on’? Do you know what you did, Nicole? Do you know?” Everyone knows. It’s a running school joke. She’s heard from her brothers the absolute bullshit that goes on in the locker room; they’ll only intervene if it crosses over from verbal to physical, per Cullen family policy. Jasper might intervene with his gift if it’s appropriate but honestly, Jasper escapes the locker rooms like a road runner most days. Human eyes might not be able to see the scars easily, but he refuses to risk it.
The gun slides through Nicole’s hair and he leans over her shoulder. “Bang.”
And Nicole slumps in her seat, audibly sobbing.
(Everyone else is being evacuated. They can hear them; the hurried footsteps trying not to burst into a run, the tears and the desperation to be swift and as quiet as possible. There’s some yelling, people calling out for their friends and siblings, panic in their voice. It feels very far away right now.)
She feels very distant from everything that’s happening in the room right now. She wonders if Edward can hear her; the library is at the back of the school, they’ve probably evacuated everyone to the front in the hopes they can get the students off campus. She hopes Jasper is staying calm. She’s going to be fine.
The muzzle of the gun is suddenly against the back of her neck bringing her back into the moment, and it’s an odd feeling that brings up an entirely new scenario to worry about - if Kirk, who she’s never spoken with, decides to shoot her. The bullet will ricochet; if the gun is flush against her skin, it’ll backfire and… it’ll be a mess. A big one that will be hard to explain.
“Little Alice Cullen. The Cullens never give anyone the time of day. Too high and mighty to deal with us lowlifes.” The gun slides down the top of her spine. “Driving around in your sister’s car that cost more than a house. You think you’re just so much better than any one else that you had to keep it in the family rather than slum it with anyone from Forks. What’s it like, Alice? Huh? When you f-”
(It’s rather hypocritical for him to bring up their admittedly terrible cover story that she’s fucking her ‘brother’, after condemning Rob and Nicole for ruining his life over rumours and personal stuff.)
She turns her head slightly; his breath hot and damp against her face. The gun moves to jam into the space between her jaw and neck. She wishes she was alone with him right now. She’s been a Cullen for decades, she knows how to stage a suicide with the best of them.
The library doors suddenly bang open, and they all jump; including Kirk. She knows that they’re all expecting Chief Swan or one of the police, and Mrs Garcia’s face is an expression of horror when she realizes who it is.
The only person who expects him is her. The fear and anxiety that have been pouring off her would be like a beacon to him. Edward might be able to read her mind, but Jasper will always hear her when she calls - even when she doesn’t mean to.
But the very easiest way to get out of this without bloodshed is with an empath. Especially an empath who knows how to manage people. In the right head space, Jasper could sell milk to cows.
And honestly, in any bad situation, he just makes it better. Everything is going to be okay if Jasper’s there. That’s how it’s always been for her.
Except… his expression is dark. Calm, but dark. Angry. He’s so angry right now, his fists tensing at his sides. The muzzle of the gun slides back along her neck to press hard against where her neck joins her head and she hopes it doesn’t bend.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Kirk snaps, and his other hand grips the shoulder of her sweater. “If you take another goddamn step, I am going to blow her head off.”
(Someone has wet themselves. She doesn’t know who, but the smell is distinct and she’s just so intensely aware that other than the librarian, she’s surrounded by children - sixteen and seventeen years old, facing down a peer, a classmate, a friend who is threatening them with death because he’s tired of life being cruel. She just feels sorry for them, the ones that will close their eyes and not be able to forget this day, forget the barrel of the gun against their skin, and the knowledge that they might never get to say good bye to everyone they love.)
“You’re going to put the gun down.” Jasper’s voice is low. “Alice?”
“I’m okay.” Her voice quivers perfectly, she sounds like a panicked teenager trying to stay calm. Her hands are balled up in her skirt, and she’s playing the part perfectly.
“Get the fuck out, Hale,” Kirk has a slightly hysterical tone to his voice.
“Kirk, put the gun down.” Jasper’s having trouble with picking the correct flavour of calm right now, she can tell - the room is full of terror and rage. Their secret could be exposed. He’s pissed off that it was her class that Kirk chose for his vendetta.
“Make me,” Kirk snaps and Alice kind of wants to laugh. Emmett said that to Jasper once in the seventies over something. She can’t even remember what - a remote control car? Some gadget that they were both fascinated with. She just remembered that it ended with Jasper taking Emmett up on his challenge with the kind of swift and decisive action that guaranteed a humiliating defeat. One of those incidents that became family lore.
(Bella will like that story, she has to remember to tell her.)
Jasper’s eyes narrow in a way that sealed the deaths of thousands of newborns and humans back in the day, and Alice takes a breath to try and center herself. Having Kirk so close to her is uncomfortable - he doesn’t smell even fainting good, and honestly, other than Bella, she’s not usually touched all that much by humans; usually it’s accidental or incidental touching, not a grip. It’s very odd and she’s hyper-aware of him; she almost wishes he’d still been tormenting Nicole when Jasper walked in.
“You’ve made your point,” Jasper shrugged. “You’ve scared the shit out of everyone in this school, not just this room. No one is ever going to tell a joke about you again. Hell, they probably won’t talk about you ever again. And you did it without spilling any blood. You can walk away from this.”
That’s stretching the truth - Kirk’s going to prison after this, maybe after a stay in a psychiatric ward. A student can’t bring a firearm to school and go back home that night. That’s not how this ends. But it doesn’t have to get worse than that. There’s still light in the tunnel.
“Maybe I don’t fucking want to,” Kirk says back nastily. “Maybe I’m going to blow your sister-wife’s brains out.”
“That won’t end well for you.” Jasper moves closer. Everyone is transfixed. “Alice has never done anything to you, Kirk. Just put down the gun.”
(She can feel his finger shaking on the trigger. As much as fresh blood flowing is the very worst idea right now, having the bullet hit her flesh and explode the gun would end this quickly. She wonders if they can control themselves long enough to get out if someone starts bleeding.)
It hits her first; she’s always been especially vulnerable to his gift - maybe because she knows it so intimately, knows that it’s him, that she lets it happen. But she’s suddenly so calm and peaceful that she visibly relaxes. Everything is going to be okay.
Kirk’s breathing changes, and then the gun is falling away from her body and he is stepping backwards.
“The gun, Kirk.” Jasper’s voice isn’t kind, but it is firm, and she watches Kirk hold it out and maybe she holds her breath that he doesn’t change his mind at the last moment and fire it at Jasper.
Jasper’s hands close over it and she lets out a breath, closing her eyes for a moment, as Kirk drops to the ground and he begins to cry. There’s no pity in her for him right now; just relief for the others. Gratitude that her husband always has her back and is, at heart, a hero. She watches as he disassembles the gun with the intention of unloading it.
The bullets fall like rain onto the carpeted floor, and Jasper tosses the gun behind the check-out desk, and that’s when everyone comes back to life, scrambling faster than they can get their bodies to move. There’s yelling and tears and they all run, Kirk still sobbing on the floor.
She expects Jasper to take her hand, to pull her along with him into the hallway, to quietly get their stories straight so that she doesn’t have to go to hospital or talk to the police. Except he doesn’t.
He pulls her into the kind of hug that feels desperate and relieved. He’s wrapped around her like she might actually have gotten hurt, like he was actually worried for her, terrified of the outcome.
“We need to go,” she says, and he grunts his assent, but he doesn’t immediately move away. And when he finally does, he keeps one arm around her as they move through the school - no debrief, no instructions. Just the two of them hurrying outside to join the chaos.
(There’s a local news station there, and she’s relieved that they waited to leave the building, because no one really notices them slipping out to join the crowds; the police pushing past both of them to get inside and find Kirk.)
“We should have taken the gun,” she says as Jasper leads her away, towards where she can see their siblings sitting on the Jeep, waiting; Edward’s holding his phone to his ear, probably speaking with Esme or Carlisle. “We shouldn’t have left it with him.”
“I don’t care.” Jasper’s words are ice cold - and clairvoyant because seconds later, they all hear a gunshot ring out and when she gasps and turns to look around, he just wraps his arms around her protectively and keeps her moving towards their family.
(She sees Charlie, looking tired and angry; he makes eye contact with her and nods but doesn’t come over. She knows at some point, Charlie is going to come looking for her and Jasper - once he’s interviewed all the other students and Mrs Garcia, and finds out that they were right in the middle of this mess.)
She’s not really sure about getting home - she knows that she was bundled into the backseat with Jasper next to her; that Edward and Bella are following in Bella’s truck. She knows that Jasper has his arms around her the entire time, and that she’s never felt a tiredness like this before. Rose and Emmett keep looking at her in the backseat with these solemn expressions, like she’s going to keel over at any moment. And yeah, she did fuck up - she never should have missed that a student was carrying a gun around school, especially with Bella around. But she doesn’t want to think about that right now, and she doesn’t want anyone else to point that out either. She just leans against Jasper and lets everything wash over her, the conversation over her head indecipherable to her ears.
It all passes in a blur until she’s climbing out of the Jeep to find Esme there looking stricken, barely waiting for Alice to have both her feet on the ground before she’s pulled into a hug.
“Oh sweet girl,” Esme says, and she’s confused why everyone is behaving like she could have gotten hurt. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she says, but Esme hugs her again - a proper mom hug, the ones she reserves for really, really bad days (slips, Maria’s unscheduled visits, the death of a human family member) and it doesn’t feel like she’s really done anything to deserve it.
“I’ll call Carlisle and let him know you’re all home safe,” Esme says, pressing a kiss to Alice’s forehead.
Edward and Bella aren’t back yet, so she doesn’t protest when Jasper gently guides her upstairs to their room, and folds her into their bed, his arms tight around her. And it’s her favourite place in the world right now; the familiar scent of the bedding, the way they both curl together in their usual positions with her head on his shoulder. It makes her feel like the world has tipped the right way up again. Like maybe her mind was still in that library, and it’s only just caught up with her body.
“How are you feeling?” Jasper asks, as if he can’t feel exactly what she is. She smiles and curls closer to him.
“I’m fine. I think you’ve all forgotten that if Kirk had tried anything, he would have hurt himself,” she replies. “I was more worried he’d damage the gun. How would we have explained that?”
Jasper’s giving her a look. “What? Are you okay? I haven’t seen you that mad in a long, long time. It couldn’t be because you missed American History.” Jasper hates that class; he’s lived through the real life events and the class so many times that the course work drives him nuts.
“I found my wife held at gunpoint today; it’s been mildly stressful,” he says lazily, but she can see the strain in his eyes.
“Jas…” she says softly. “We’re bulletproof. There’s nothing he could have done to us.”
“He might not have been able to hurt you, but he had the intention to,” Jasper explains, his fingers stroking her cheek. “He wanted to hurt you, Alice, and that is… entirely unacceptable to me. I walked in there to get you - and you alone - out of that room because of his rage and his hatred towards everyone in that room. If it had just been us, I would have… well, if he hadn’t cleaned up after himself, I would have done it for him. For even looking at you while holding that gun.”
She shivers in his arms, knowing that he means what he says. It could have been a few weeks from now, with Kirk home on bail, or it could have been ten years from now, on parole and starting over. Jasper would have found him and killed him. She knows her husband, and he holds a grudge - especially when it comes to her safety and happiness.
“There is a special terror in the sight of a fire arm for a human,” Jasper continues more gently. “They end a life so absolutely… I remember the first time I had to shoot one of our animals, when I was a child. It was such a terrible moment, it’s been over a hundred years and I’ve never forgotten it. The same with the first man I killed in war. A gun is a heavy responsibility, a way of playing god, when you’re mortal. It’s looking into the eyes of death.”
“…and I can’t really grasp that,” she says finally. “Because I’ve got no memory of them as a human.”
“There was never any doubt that you would leave that room whole, I know. But there will never, ever be a time when I won’t defend you from someone that intends you harm, whether that’s some high school kid or some kind of monster. You are always going to be my priority, the thing that I protect over everything else.” Jasper pressed his lips against her cheek and she reached up to run her fingers through his hair.
She loves him, all of him - his single-minded focus, especially towards her; his determination, his practicality, and even his over-protectiveness.
And she knows that at some point, they’re going to have deal with the fact that Kirk killed himself because of their carelessness, speaking with police on record, with the entire school knowing that they were in the eye of the storm. All those little things that could expose them, that make them memorable. She’ll let herself feel sad for Rob and Nicole and everyone else who was there who can’t sleep without feeling the barrel of the gun against their skin.
But right now, she’s going to stay here safe in her husband’s arms and be grateful for the fact that no matter what, he’s always going to come running when she calls.
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nneilperry · 2 years
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Texas does not lift a finger when children are shot at their desks at age 10, but considers abortion of a fetus an unforgivable sin.
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monster-cock69 · 10 months
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i don't like mondays
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AO3 link here
Pairings: None
Tags: All Human AU, School Shooting, Dead Dove
Warnings: School Shooting, Major Character Death
Rating: Teen (may change)
Summary:
Peter had never liked Mondays, and a Monday at Midtown was more hectic than all of his Mondays in middle school combined. Too many of the other students agreed.
Trudging through the overly crowded hallways still hadn’t become a part of Peter’s routine. 
The crowding within Midtown School of Science and Technology was only comparable to the few times he’d made the mistake of traveling through Times Square during rush hour. Everyone was pushing and shoving, clothing got caught on bags and it was impossible to move more than a few feet without bumping into someone. 
It didn’t help that his teachers refused to understand and he had to make his way to the other end of the building. 
“Peter!” 
Ned was flush with the wall toward the end of the hallway, near the turn Peter was shuffling toward. The shout was barely audible in the loud space but he managed to nod in his friend’s direction. 
Their schedule was almost the same on Mondays, which made his introduction to the week almost forgiving. 
A tightly huddled group of seniors shoved him out of their way, but he managed to reach Ned, who clutched his arm tightly and pulled him around the bend. 
The crowd seemed to thin out the further into the school they went – it was both a relief and a curse since it meant they would be late for their next class. 
“I hope they didn’t take our seats,” Ned muttered as a girl from their gym period bumped into him. 
The sentiment was shared, but baseless. Peter was pretty sure no one else would want to sit front and center during Mr. Mahoney’s class. He was a funny, but mean teacher whose jokes were mainly science puns and felt like freshman biology was inferior to the sophomore chemistry he taught two years before. 
“I just hope he won’t be mad – I was pretty excited for this lab.” 
Despite it only being October, their biology teacher had decided the class was ready to do a dissection lab. If anyone was late it meant a ten minute lecture on the importance of punctuality and less time to work on their frogs. 
“I mean, it’s okay – I just hate that lab’s on Mondays. It’s stupid.” 
“I don’t like Mondays,” Peter agreed, a little breathless as they made the last turn into the science hall. 
It seemed like they weren’t alone in their rush to the class. At least three others were running into the room from the opposite direction. 
This time, Peter was the one to tug at Ned’s arm as he pulled him into the room.
“I see we’ve managed to prove ten minutes is more than enough time to get to class, Mr. Parker, Mr. Leeds.” 
Ned gave a less than enthusiastic agreement that Peter ignored to beeline for their seats. 
Thankfully, the lecture portion was short and straightforward – but not something he could ignore. His notes were illegible and harried.
Mr. Mahoney seemed excited too. Usually, his lecturing was long and arduous, but he’d always make time for questions and force them to participate. Today, he didn’t stop for any questions or even write much on the board. 
When he started to go over procedure and protocol Ned looked like he was about to jump out of his seat and Peter wasn’t far behind him. 
The energy was palpable to him, even the kids who never participated or consistently skipped were attentive. Dissection had been something a lot of the upper classmen hadn’t gotten to do with the old biology teachers, and as far as Peter knew, they were the only class to have it scheduled in so early into the year. 
A set of lab partners was released one by one to gather their supplies from the back of the room and wash their hands. Ned was so excited that he bumped into Peter’s backpack and nearly fell down between the desks. 
“Come on, come on,” Ned urged when Peter stopped to help him up. 
“Okay, okay,” he grabbed his things quickly and laughed as Ned made eye contact with him. 
Putting on the uncomfortably stiff goggles made his hair stick up and his damp hands meant that some water got caught in it. 
Mr. Mahoney was passing around their dissection kits carefully, and both Peter and Ned obediently stilled so he could place their kits just so. Instead of walking toward the next group though – he leaned toward them like he didn’t want anyone else to hear. 
“Would Ms. Stacy be able to join your group today? Her lab partner isn’t in class.” 
“Oh uh, yeah of course?” Mr. Mahoney seemed to take his confused answer at face value and set down a third kit. 
Peter found the encounter weird, and even Ned seemed unsettled by it. Usually, he would make a big deal out of someone missing class. It was an entire process that took an entire chunk out of class time – quiet acceptance was weird. 
Gwen, when she finally got to them looked like she’d jump at the drop of a hat. Even dressed in her lab gear, he could tell she’d been crying. 
Her normally clear blue eyes were rimmed with red and her hands couldn’t stop shaking. She had red splotches all over her face too. 
“You guys can just ignore me if you want. My dad’s on his way to get me anyways.” Peter tried to meet Ned’s eyes without making it obvious. This day was getting weirder and weirder. If he remembered correctly, Gwen’s dad was some high up cop that hadn’t even been able to make orientation. She always complained about how he was never there to do anything with her – it didn’t make sense that he’d be able to run and get her from school on a random Monday. 
“I uh, that’s up to you I guess?” Peter offered when Ned didn’t jump in, “We don’t mind letting you copy everything down as long as Mahoney doesn’t see.”
Gwen shrugged and leaned her arms against the table, then looked around the room for something before whispering, “Georgia’s starting her shit again and I have a bad feeling she’s being for real this time.” 
As the principal’s oldest daughter, the stories went that Georgia had automatically been put in the spotlight last year. Instead of being the success story everyone had thought she’d be though, she’d flunked all of his classes and had a reputation for being the biggest asshole in the school. 
Everyone guessed it was only her dad that kept her there, and she got in trouble so often that it had to be true. 
Sometime last year, Georgia started threatening to bomb the school or poison the cafeteria food. It had only been taken seriously once or twice, and he remembered going on lockdown for it back in September. 
Peter shuddered at the reminder, and Ned enthusiastically encouraged Gwen to continue on. 
“I heard her tell Todd from Geometry to find a reason to leave ‘cause he was gonna shoot the school up. Mr. Singh didn’t even call the cops or anything, just sent him to the office.” 
“Fucking Georgia,” he sighed, not knowing what else to say. The heaviness in Gwen’s voice was something he didn’t know how to deal with. They were loose friends and her cool demeanor always reminded him of MJ’s. 
Nothing bothered either of them, and it made Peter feel uneasy. 
“Maybe she just doesn’t like Mondays, I mean doesn’t everyone?”
“I don’t know, it just gave me a weird feeling and my dad said he’d come get me since he’s getting off early anyways.” 
“Yeah no, I’m gonna see if my lola can get me. That’s weird to me too.” 
Peter shrugged his shoulders when Ned looked to him next. Sure he’d rather go home but May had done triples over the weekend and really needed to sleep. He could deal with a bit of anxiety over something that probably wouldn’t really happen. 
“May needs to sleep,” he looked pointedly at Ned, “and you know how she gets.” 
Ned shot off a text while Peter made sure Mahoney wasn’t looking and Gwen surprisingly started to work on the paperwork for them. 
As he and Ned worked, Gwen seemed to perk up a bit. She wasn’t as shaky anymore and though she didn’t seem to enjoy it as much as them, Peter took it as a good thing. 
Halfway through, a voice over the loudspeaker called for Gwen to go down to the office. A weight seemed to leave her shoulders as she gathered her things, but Peter had the weirdest feeling when he looked over at her. 
On the corner of the table, she’d left her water bottle. Peter tried to call out to her and let her know, but he guessed she didn’t hear him. 
“My lola said she’d come get me, are you sure you don’t wanna have May say she can take you too? Even if the school’s not for real you don’t know if Georgia is.”
That weird feeling he’d gotten when he looked at Gwen doubled when he met Ned’s eyes and he tightened his hand around the scalpel. 
“Yeah, I’ll text her.”
 The scalpel made a soft clink when he set it back down to reach into his backpack. 
“Eww dude, take the gloves off at least.”
“I don��t have another pair,” he hissed back, fumbling with his phone. 
Mr. Mahoney came walking toward them just as he got it unlocked, and he hastily dropped it back into the bowels of his bag. 
“Ms. Stacy, I thought your father was here for you?” He asked as she trudged back into the room. 
“He’s downstairs. I just forgot-”
From the other end of the classroom, a girl screamed. It was loud and shrill, something he’d only ever heard in horror movies.
Then Gwen’s body jerked and he heard a firecracker go off. 
She took a step forward, and blood started to stain her shirt. 
When she faltered and fell backward, Georgia was standing behind her, gripping a pistol so tight her knuckles were white. 
Everyone was running to the back of the classroom, shoving each other and trying to get as far away as possible. 
Scalpel still clutched in one hand, he grabbed his bag and made for the tight space between a display cabinet and a desk. 
There was nowhere to hide, not really. 
Georgia hadn’t moved from the front of the room, and she was shouting words that Peter couldn’t hear. 
His brain was on overload. Some people had upended a desk and tried to push it toward her. 
She shot both of them. 
Mr. Mahoney was sprawled out in the center of the room, next to Peter and Ned’s desk. He was weekly pressing a hand to his thigh. 
Georgia stepped over something – someone – and shot him in the head. 
He couldn’t see Ned anywhere, but the roaring of his heart was starting to be drowned out by shouting and screaming. 
In his hand, the scalpel started to shake. 
Something told him that there wasn’t any way he was leaving alive. 
He tried to look anywhere but at Georgia, but each time he tore his eyes from her they fell on Gwen’s water bottle, undisturbed on their lab desk. It had blood on it now. 
Georgia raised her hand again, and this time he caught the eyes of the girl it was pointed at a split second before she jerked and screamed. Her phone had been pressed to her cheek.
May, I need to say goodbye to May.
The scalpel didn’t make a noise when it fell, or if it did he couldn’t hear it. 
May didn’t answer on the first ring, and Georgia had started walking further into the room. 
“Peter? Peter, what’s going on? I don’t want you getting into trouble on the phone like this.”
He was the furthest from the back wall, which made him the closest to Georgia, who’d started flinging her gun around and shooting aimlessly. 
“I love you.”
The loud, heavy running up the stairs was silenced by the sound of two more firecrackers going off. 
Georgia jerked and fell down, the same way Gwen had. Only there was blood steadily falling from her forehead rather than her stomach. Her cheeks were a uniform, blotch of red and her pretty red hair was a mess all around her. 
Cops flooded the room, and he heard a loud, agonized scream that made him feel cold. 
Gwen’s dad Peter thought sluggishly. 
Someone, a cop maybe, knelt in front of him. 
More people started swarming around him, talking loudly and firmly. The first cop reached for his phone and he let them take it. His hand was falling slack anyways, and he didn’t think he’d be able to hold it much longer. 
Peter couldn’t hear what any of them were saying, and their faces had started to blur like he and Ned had gotten into May’s wine again. 
Ned was there too, and he was crying really hard. 
There was a paramedic – or EMT maybe – pulling at his clothes. Another was taking his goggles off for him. 
It didn’t make sense until he saw the blood on their gloves.
Oh
He tried to decipher the unintelligible words everyone was saying, and his eyes fell on the cop that had taken his phone. 
“We’re doing everything we can for him, ma’am.”
People kept talking, kept shouting. 
But his eyes were starting to hurt. His body hurt too, and he didn’t want to stay awake anymore.
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Hey guys! We normally don’t post these kinds of posts because we are a blog that doesn’t judge people on their kinks or what they like but sometimes we receive asks that are a little too insensitive for us to post and we have to delete because we don’t want to trigger our current admins or followers.
There’s a lot going of scary stuff on in the world right now whether it be what’s going on with politics, women’s/humans rights, school shootings or even covid, and we’re just asking that you guys remember that we’re humans too and there are certain things we don’t feel comfortable seeing/sharing whether there are fics for those topics or not. You can always search it yourself with a quick google or ao3 search before coming to this blog.
I know we say in admin applications that there really aren’t any way to avoid triggering subjects but we can ask that you guys just think twice before sending a triggering ask. We want this blog to be a happy and safe place for everyone who visits, especially with those scary things going on right now.
Please remember to take care of yourself and others. We love you guys xx
- Phanfiction catalogue admins
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anti-subtle-b · 1 year
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“Somewhere there had to be a happy medium between treated as a terrifying murder machine and being infantilized.”
-Rogue Protocol, Martha Wells
I think about this line a lot.  The Murderbot Diaries series leans well into critiques of Ableism, and I think about the books in reference to disability a lot.
Ableism hands out the ‘baby’ and ‘dangerous’ labels left and right. I think about the perception of things like DID, amputations, anxiety, and depression. Sometimes both blankets get laid on at once. The idea of ‘depressed school shooters’ on one hand the ‘how to care for a sad person’ comic. It’s embedded in the culture (at least in the USA).
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{Image ID: comic with multiple panels, how to care for a sad person, 2. pick sad person up 3. lay on blanket 4. rol them like a sushi 5. place sad roll on bed/couch/comfy place 6. hug roll close 7. put on rols favorite movies 8. feed roll snacks 9. make sure roll is well hydrated. Tears make roll dehydrated 10. happy lil sushi roll. End ID}
I have spent just the smallest amount of time talking with diagnosed autistics (and with self dxed and un-dxed folks) and seen their critiques on media about autism they make this really hit home. It’s PERVASIVE.
In the hated film Mus1c by S1A there is a throughline of her main character, Music, being childlike, but when she has meltdowns she’s dangerous. This same rhetoric is used by Autism Spe@ks, that autism will destroy marriages and peace and is actively trying to get you, that autistic people are missing something that needs to be found so they can be whole. When I tell you I WANTED to like Love on the Spectrum-- but it played deeply into ‘autistics are missing something, they need help, they’re childlike’ and it infantilized it’s cast-- I am saying it with desperation.
It is so cathartic for me to see this put so plainly into words by a character that is approachable to people who both are and aren’t autistic. These SHOULDN’T be the only perceptions of disabled folks! Because we are people-- multifaced, individual, just as dangerous and childlike as the rest of the population.
Some of us need more support. Some of us need more care. But we are all individuals, and these blankets are smothering.
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I want everyone to take a good, hard look at this.
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bae-in-maine · 1 year
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TRIGGER WARNING: School Shooting.
Today's school shooting at a Christian elementary school in Nashville is devastating and tragic. My heart breaks for the families of those brutally murdered.
My heart also breaks for the LGBTQIA+ community. The shooter was a trans woman. She used to go to the school, and she drew maps, conducted surveillance, and then carried out her targeted attack.
What she did was evil. I don't know why she did it, we probably will never know, but sadly this doesn't end with her.
The Queer community, and specifically the Trans community have been under attack from all sides. Violence towards trans people has increased this last year, and numerous states are enacting hateful legislation targeting our community's right to be who we are.
The GOP and the Christian Right are going to use this woman's attack to target the community even more than they already do. They are already calling it a hate crime against Christians. Maybe it is, but Christians, in this country, like to believe that they are persecuted. They like to believe they are oppressed, when they absolutely are not. Christians, are often the oppressors. I won't go into why they like to believe this as that is a post for another day.
The LLGBTQIA+ community, more than ever now, needs to stand up for our trans sisters, brothers, and enbies. We need to stand with them, fight for them, and with them.
A house divided can not stand. Abraham Lincoln knew this, and we need to take it to heart. We are all in this together. We are stronger together.
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crossthecreek10 · 10 months
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So I know we all gave Glee shit while it was airing. But I’m rewatching for a brain break and I’m on the episode they did the school shooter section. You know the one that aired with zero commercial breaks? At the end of the day, Ryan Murphy deserves all the awards for this episode because it still gives me anxiety and I haven’t been in a school for almost 10 years
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sunshine-on-marz · 1 year
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Y’all are about to get a whole thread on school shootings
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ai-yo · 2 years
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That fool tweeting at Quinta to make an episode about school shootings is still throwing me.
They want Abbott Elementary to help create a conversation. If real life isn't moving US politicians then fiction definitely won't. Plus Abbott is a Black school, they don't give a damn about Black children.
Also there have been so many very special episode about school shootings all over US and Canadian television and movies for decades.
Even Buffy the vampire slayer had one.
I recently watched the movie Fallout a few months ago.
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cowboypossume · 2 years
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homo-taylorsversion · 5 months
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Dude, If this doesn't prove how bad the American school system scares kids, damn.
I'm two years out of highschool and I still panic when I hear fire alarms of any sort. I was literally watching a TikTok and in the video had the school fire alarm go off. And the anxiety I felt?! Shit man. War flashbacks.
I'm TWO YEARS OUT OF HIGHSCHOOL! I've never been in a school shooting so I obviously don't know what that's like but I've had plenty of threats. I had bomb threats, I had shooting threats. I had a lockdown because a Mentally unstable person broke in. We had lockdowns just for drills. There were times we had to evacuate because it was dangerous. There was times we sat in classrooms for HOURS with no idea what was going on except through Snapchat or texts. All of this since I was in ELEMENTARY SCHOOL!! we had a bomb threat on my BIRTHDAY one year.
The fear I had growing up I could be next, it's real.
And hearing that fire alarm? Freaked me out. Shit. That's just an example of how that stays with a person.
Like I said, I don't know what it's like to be in a school shooting let alone lose someone from one, and my condolences. But I'm just saying, that just those alone were scary. Something needs to change in the American school system because wtf. I shouldn't be traumatized over this!
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buckleyswift41319 · 11 months
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The latest school shooting happened at a graduation, in the city I now call my home, in the park my brother used to walk through between university classes, outside of the theater I was asked if I wanted to see a show in the night before. It’s really a when and not an if.
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I had a real 💩 end of the school year this year...
Dealt with a LOT of BS from my (former) school all because I stood up for our school counselor when she spoke up at a biased, politically incorrect "Professional Development".
Long story short, the school had the Sargent from the police station across the street come in for our safety procedures PD, & he proceeded to go through the history of allllll the shootings (triggering!) with a biased slant (it's not a gun problem, or an American one...🤨) and of COURSE had to point out the gender of only ONE of all the shooters - the transgender one.
When our H.S. counselor spoke up - politely and professionally even though she was PISSED, the officer got all huffy and started talking like, "Do you even want me to be here? I can just leave right now..."
Anyways... I didn't let THAT one slide and wound up in a big meeting with admin. Took some PTO after that, switched to a leave of absence, and wound up on "paid administrative leave" since they were basically too scared of my righteous anger to let me come back to work! 😆
After all that BS - getting a message like this from one of our SPED teachers warmed my heart:
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Image description: screenshot of text message reads: Yeah, I wish you'd been able to say goodbye but please remember that in [redacted]'s life alone, you made a huge difference... you were the first teacher whose room he stayed in for an entire school year... no catastrophic freak outs and no refusal to return... all the other kids and their issues aside, it was clear to him the class was his space and that was pretty much all YOU... thank you...
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cancelled0wl · 1 year
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Okay so I'm seeing a lot of articles and videos about people defending the school shooter from Tennessee who killed 6 people, including three 9 year olds. Why the fuck are you protecting a school shooter, that bitch is a mass shooter who killed three babies. Wtf is wrong with you. I don't give a fuck if that bitch is a male or female or something else, because in all that bitch shouldn't be addressed properly for the absolute horror it inflicted on a bunch of young children.
By defending that bitch, you are advocating other potential mass shooters to do the same and they'll be protected. Think before being a bunch of whiny douchebags. Acting like this isn't gonna get you respect or whatever the hell y'all want, it's gonna only put you in a deeper hole of hate and disrespect.
I am the eldest of three younger siblings, I am scared to send them to school. Congress ain't gonna do shit, they could've ended this once Columbine happened. But no, everyone is focusing on a future that isn't bound to even happen because we keep killing each other!
Fuck you all who are supporting some dead ass bitch who couldn't even solve its own life problems. If you feel similar, do not address school shooters as people, because those bitches are monsters and would never be living things.
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