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lillaxtrigger · 3 years ago

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Young Hope: Chapter 40

The afternoon sun beats down upon the planes of suburbia just outside of Townsville; some of its warming light beaming straight through the window of a residence and cast upon the bottom half of a blue haired woman, who stands atop a step stool as she reaches up to her kitchen ceiling fan. Carefully does she continue to unscrew the fan’s frame keeping it atop the kitchen, each screw she twists out dropping down into the palm of her hand; one of them winds up slipping out from her grasp and falling to the tile floor. As she peers down to the screw that had just dropped, the woman is left astonished when finding a lone limb of pure black slither through the air underneath; the shock alone upsetting her balance and causing her to fall right off the stool and onto the floor. Amidst shaking off the short fall does the blue haired woman then watch’s the slithering limb split apart into two; one part reaching over to the fridge while the other heads up to the cabinet beside. From within the fridge does one strand pull out the jug of whole milk while the other takes out a tall glass out from the cabinet; pouring the milk right up near the rim of the glass before neatly putting the galleon right back inside before slithering back through the kitchen with glass in hand.

With a short breath escaping from her lips does the woman’s daughter race right on into the kitchen; giving the woman a hand as she asks:

“Mom! You alright?”

“Yeah Mally. Just got a little spooked by Roy’s new arm is all.” the mother explains as she’s pulled back onto her feet. “Oh yeah. It’s taking me a little bit longer to get used to too.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m so glad for Roy getting a brand new arm to replace the old one he lost several months back, but the way you described how it just came bursting out from his arm socket still has me concerned. Have you at least talked to him about it yet?” “I’ve been giving him some time to enjoy having both arms again before spoiling the fun. It’s been only a week now since we got back home.”

“Well when do you think it might be time to let the party train grind to a halt to check the cargo its got in the back?” “I think I might just start.” the orange girl answers before strolling off towards the hall.

Waltzing right through their hallway does Mally head towards the slightly cracked open door set along the very end of the hall; the roller bladder slowly pushing the door open and letting the hallway light seep into the darkened room. “Roy...You in here?” she says out tot he dark, baiting nothing but silence. Among peering through the dark recesses do a pair of violet glowing eyes emerge from the void; the silhouette they belong to lumbering closer as they stare upon the young lady. Finally pushing the bedroom wide open does the hallway light flood through the room and reveal the purple angel himself standing before the girl; Roy looking to her with a calming smile and uttering:

“Hey there.”

As the merc starts to drink the glass of milk held in his arm of pure black, the orange lass slowly steps into his bedroom as she asks:

“Hey Roy...So uh, h-how have ya been feeling this past week with your new arm?”

“Holy shit. It’s been so fucking great. I didn’t think I’d miss having both arms this badly. Plus with all that my new arm is capable off, I’m finding new ways to put it to use that his old limb could only gestural feint over; some uses far more pleasurable than before.”

“Yeah, I get it. You can have sex with people using your arm. What I’m really asking here is if you’ve felt even the slightest bit off since it came bursting out yer side? Any odd or upsetting thoughts going through your head...like more depraving than usual?” Mally retells. “Eh...outside of wondering if a dead body could be stuffed inconspicuously inside a recliner for about a week without no one noticing, haven’t really had much like that on the mind.” “Any physical pain or altercations?”

“Hmm...Nope.”

“Really?...Take your hoodie off then.”

“Whoa, whoa, Mal. I know were not blood related. But I still see you as a little sister so that’d be pretty damn wro-”

“Just take it off!”

“Alright, fine. Jesus.” the merc complies with, starting to slip off his treasure purple hood.

Upon finally beholding her brother’s bare chest do the skater’s eyes widen as her pupils shrink, nearly falling over as she screams out through the house:

“Holy shit!”

“Mally! What did I say about cussing in the hou- Oh my god!” the mom comes over to scold, though left just as taken aback when beholding the same sight as her daughter. Both of them are left horrified when discovering numerous black veins that run right across the purple merc’s bare chest like an encroaching infection and covering his upper body; Roy left wondering to both of them:

“The hell are you girl’s screaming about?” “You can’t be serious.” Mally utters.

“Honey, have you checked yourself in the mirror lately?” the mom questions with quiet worry. “Oh, you mean all these going through my bod. Pretty damn cool, right?”

“No!” the blue haired mother blurts out.

“I-is-is that-I Iiis all that even hurting you, making you bleed out or something!” Mally asks. “Chill, alright. I’ve never felt better. All this is just fine.”

“It’s pulsating veins are literally rooting through your body!” the mom adds.

“Oh my god. I seriously can’t believe you two. I finally gotten a break after all the messed up bull I gone through and your practically demonizing the prize I won at the end. Can’t you people be happy that I got an arm again, one that’s better than the old one?” Roy complains. “Roy, were not worried about you having a new arm. We’re worried about what it’s doing to you.” the mom specifies. “How do you two know it ain’t doing anything bad, maybe all this black veins going through my bod is improving me like nanomachines making him stronger; like that one guy in Metal Gear Rising. What was his name again? How the hell am I forgetting his name?” “We need to see a doctor about this.” the mom claims. “Mom, what would a doctor even start to make of this? I doubt they could give a feasible diagnosis over something this outlandishly dark appendage that came spurting out.” her daughter mentions. “What else can we do about it?” the blue haired woman questions back. ‘Uh...Alex said that this thing was made up of the same stuff he was. But that really doesn’t say much. Roy, you got his number right? Think giving him a call might be best on the table.” the skater comes to. “Already tried. Every call just goes to voice mail. Can’t sense him anywhere in Town either. Fact, he’s been off the grid since we got back. Hope the little gremlin hasn’t gotten into anything serious.”

“Right, fine. With that option out, we’ll just have to stop by a couple friends to see if they can help. But who to see first?” the skater wonders aloud. The merc suddenly snaps his fingers as he flashes a smile, stating how:

“Senator Armstrong! That’s what his name was.”

The very first stop that both Roy and Mally take under this investigation is with the potion witch herself, Serena; who they meet in the Townsville Library. More specifically within the recently uncovered underbelly of the library filled with enchanting books and mystical tomes. Sliding her finely polished nail across the wall of ancient hardback, the witch pulls out a lone book straight from the shelves; all the while telling the two behind her how:

“I seriously can’t thank you two enough for discovering this incredible collection hidden away underneath the library. All the new potion recipes that I’ve gotten from their pages have been one hot seller after another since you two dug it up.” “Ain’t no big deal. Really we just stumbled onto this by complete accident. I just hope the clean up crew removed all the trap set up in here.” the orange skater responds. Right on that mark do they all then here the sound of a magical explosion go off along the side; all of them peeking right over to find one of the library goers having his lower torso replaced with that of a spider, all while scream out in an utter panic. “Ah! Ah! Oh god! Why!?” the poor bastard shouts as a batch of silk spews out from his fresh new abdomen.

“So...What’s this little book stop gotta do with what came bursting out my side?” Roy get back on track with. “During one of my little glazes through this uncovered library, I stumbled across a tome of Mythological Chinese stories. One of them kinda reminds me of your arm in a strange way.”

“Where’s that.” Mally questions. “Think I last saw that Tome along the very back of the right side of the library. It might be the one sitting in the middle of the shelf.” “Kay, gimme a sec here.” the purple merc tells them, casting forth his arm of pitch black out beyond the railing and right across the outlook; stretching straight out to the other side. Slithering through sections does the arm slide past several other library goers, each one of them left astonished as the limb moves past. Skimming along the spines of every single book on the shelf does the merc finally pull out one in particular labeled as “The mythical fables of the ancient east” and withdraws the tome back to his side. “This it?” “Yep. The very same one.” the potion witch confirms. “You know what that story you mentioned says?” Mally asks. “Mm. I’ve olny read about a paragraph or two while on my recipe hunt.”

“That case. Guess we better just crack this thing open and feast on the festering brain food dwelling inside.” the merc goes. “Roy, dial it down for god sake.” his sister tells him as they both head over towards a desk.

Slapping the old book right onto the ancient stone library desk do the two of them get started in the table of context as Serena tells them that:

“Alright you two. I’ll be looking through more of the shelves if you need me.” “Careful of tripwires along the floor.” Mally warns her with as they part. Cracking the tome right open, the two of them immediately begin their search through the table of contents; reading out the titles of numerous legends such as: “The Oni and the flowerpot” “The natural Maiden of white snow” “The myth of the True eye Hawk bow” “The meeting of the Nord and the Imperial Lord”. “Ah...Oh, here might be something, “The tale of the Samurai and the black demon.” the orange young lady grabs her brother’s attention with.

“Long ago in an ancient land, a great and powerful mass of black had descended from the heavens and arose as a powerful shape shifting master of darkness; determined to dominate the land of China and all who dwell within with unspeakable evil power unmatched. Before the mystical land could be swallowed by such unrelenting darkness, the land’s lord sent away his only son and the one katana of evil’s bane out from their homeland so that his heir would escape to one day defeat this powerful and liberate his homeland. Through out every corner of the globe has this young heir hone his skills with many masters as his guide; his abilities and way of the blade growing alongside his age throughout the many years.

After a long 15 years of grueling training, the boy, now a fully fledged samurai, was ready to return home; determined to free his people from the monstrous evil that had scarred the land of the east. Among his return upon a horse of white; the powerful demon stared down upon the Samurai as he had stepped forth to appose him; the monster burning eyes staring down upon the Samurai as he unsheathed the blade of evil’s bane. The battle for not just the Samurai’s homeland, but for the world over had finally begun its finale.

Long and harrowing was their fight, the demon assuming many forms in opposition to the Samurai; who with fleet foot, tore through the monster’s very form that no other mortal could. No matter what form the demon had taken, no matter what trickery or power it had fought back with, the monster of darkness could not stand against the holy weapon of the Samurai; the katana slicing off piece after piece of the demon’s body. In the final moments of the grueling battle did the demon lay helpless before the Samurai; it body scattering to dust when the last blow had been struck. Finally, after decades of suffering had the demon been defeated and the land of the east free from its harrowing evil; the Samurai, reclaiming his kingdom and bringing forth a long awaited age of prosperity and peace.

Yet despite this victory over the demon of evil, its remains are left scattered throughout the world; ever seeking, ever yearning to be whole once more with its very kin. Yet for what reason does it continue to live? To regain control over the world it once sought to rule, or to return from the very stars it once came to be. Only time shall bestow upon us all such an answer.”

Upon finishing this tale of triumph and warning, Mally is left taken aback by all that they have read; sitting back along the side of a stone shelf as she goes:

“My god. Can’t believe that demon just came down and took over China in just a day. If Serena thinks that monster might be related, what’s that even say about what’s attached to your side?...What’s it even say about Alex?” “Come on Mal. You’re taking this way too seriously. You really think this charcoal Spaghetti strand attached to my side is gonna turn me into an unsympathetic horrible tyrant?”

In thinking over this does Mally try to take a few moments to think over her brother’s answer; Roy’s expression souring with each passing second. “For fuck sa-. Fine, if you still on the fence, then how bout we stop over at Hank’s and have him call up Melvin. That boy got a sweet set of demon hands like my arm and the worst he’s ever been was a compact ball of insecurity and anger issues wrapped up on a 14 year old twinkus. And that was even before he got them.”

“Checking up on him might not be a bad idea. Last time we hung out wasn’t exactly a pleasant spelunking trip.” the orange skater agrees.

Along the suburban skies above does a young boy strapped into a decked out wheelchair glide through the clear blue skies; the chair bound boy yipping and cheering with the sort of glee a 10 year old on Christmas would make after seeing all the presents in the living room. Right below this airborne lad does both Mally and Roy finish up speaking to the chairbound pilots cousin; Melvin leaning along the side of Hank’s abode as the orange skater finishes explaining how:

“That’s pretty much how Roy’s new arm came out. Came straight out of his side like an actual chestburster.”

“Shit man. Way I wound up getting my hands ain’t nowhere as gory as that. Worse I got was some broken bones and bruises.” the young man claims. “Think you could go into detail about how ya got them?” the merc request. “Nah, fuck that. I ain’t tellin.”

“Can you at least tell us if you’ve felt anything strange or off since ya gottem. Any physical pains or strange thoughts going through your head.” Mally then asks. “Outside a couple of mildly weird dream. Got nothin going on.” Melvin ultimately concludes. “Huh...good to here at least.”

Its then that their attention is drawn up to the young man gliding in the skies above them, pulling off rolls and loop de loops as his cheering echoes across the neighborhood. “The hell he’s so giddy for.” Roy wonders. “Couple a guys came over the other day and asked him to join in some little club and he’s been flying high since.” Melvin answers. “Who came over?”

“The Vanguard League!” all of them hear he chairbound genius cry out, the three peering over to watch as Hank comes in for a landing; his wheels kicking up a cloud of dirt as he skids to a stop before them all.

“They came over!? That’s incredible, Hank! What position did you land a spot in?” Mally ecstatically questions. “Ya’ll looking at the new head of the Technological Department. Making new gadgets and inventions to help fight crime, save lives, and help people worldwide; all alongside the greatest of young minds this generation has to offer. I can’t wait to get started after the announcement this coming weekend.” “Had a feeling they’d come around to check you out sooner or later. I don’t think they picked a better boy for the job.” Mally congratulates Hank with, the chair bound genius letting out a bright smile. “What about you Melvin, you think about standing alongside your cuz and the other heroes?” the boy then questions. “You shitting me, right? You think you’d catch me being bossed around like that? Hell no.”

“What about you Mal?” “Uh. Leaning on it, but I ain’t too sure which department to join.”

“Hey, no pressure; just good luck with whatever ya choose. Meantime, I better spruce up and polish up my equipment before the weekend announcement comes around. Catch you later.” the chairbound genius bids farewell with as he presses a couple of buttons on his chair; an exhaust along the back firing out and rocketing him right on inside. From listening to several things crash and break from inside, Melvin decides to race right on after while exclaiming:

“Dammit, the hell did we talk about doing that indoors!?”

“Whelp, guess we don’t got anything to worry about. See ya.” Roy claims while in the midst of taking off out into the air. Before the violet angel could ascend too far up into the cloudless skies, the shell of a yo yo wraps itself right around the merc’s very leg; Roy peering down from the string to see Mally ready to bring him right back down. With but a single tug does the skater manage to send the purple merc straight down towards the earth; the angel crashing right down into the grassy backyard in a plume of dirt. “Yeah, were nowhere near done yet. We ain’t closing this case til we figure out what this arm of yours is made of and where it came from.” the orange lass claims. “Agh! That book we read up on said that whatever it was came from space; serious fucking doubt you know anyone else that came from beyond the star.” Roy explains while climbing out from the dirt, soon finding his sister wearing a knowing smile.

Traveling deep within the very heart of the woodlands just outside the city, the two of them step right on inside of a downed space ship; whereupon the violet angel beholds the alien trio that his sister had befriended.

“Hot damn, Mally. Can’t believe you were keepin this little part of the woods all to yourselves and didn’t bother saying a thing to us.” Roy smoothly exclaims. “Figured you might’ve sensed them all out anyway. Surprised you didn’t know until now.” Mally acknowledges. “You kidding. With all the weird shit that goes on in this town already? How you figure I was gonna stumble on this?” “Also thought they might enjoy the privacy and not have every government agent or crackpot conspiracy nutter come knocking at their door and demand to know what sort of part of congress they control or whatever excuse they pull outta their ass.”

“Still, not hard to imagine why you and your teach would want to keep these choice pieces of intergalactic intimates all to themselves; you serious stumbled onto one hell of a galactic goldmine with this set of sweet sweet alien asses. Definitely like to double down on the fish guy and the girl with the eyeliner in an intergalactic seafood platter; maybe finish off with the hooded piece of alien booty as dessert right there. This spread here’s the fucking motherload, and papa Roy here don’t want a piece, he want’s the whole fucking buffet.” the purple angel elaborates aloud, the three growing further upset and creeped out as she continues speaking.

Amidst the merc’s overwhelming horniness does a comically oversized wrench come flying and hits the back of the violet angel’s head; Roy holding the spot he got struck as he violently trembles. “Fucking…”

“While it’s flattering that you primates have at least decent tastes in knowing a fine catch when you see one. I am very aware when the line of thirst starts to cross harassment territory.” Vain assures. “Seriously kid, did you really just stop by just to have this purple prick gawk at us like an overly excited Splartian Hound in heat; ready to thrust its privates into anything that can bother pulsating in view. Cause I thought the fact that were stuck on this damn rock was getting you off enough.” Catastrophe questions. “Actually, we were hoping you three wound help us out with trying to figure out what exactly my bro’s new arm is made of.” the orange skater finally answers. “Really? I thought that human’s just grow their limbs back when one of them’s broken, just rip it right off to have another one come in the following week.” the charming alien fish boy comments. “That is...nowhere near how human biology works. Seriously hope you weren’t planning on testing that.” Mally worries. Right on that very queue does one of the boxes in the room tip over and partially reveal an unconscious man stowed away within; moaning aloud as he attempts to climb out with one of his arms taken away and stitched up wounds. Discovering this, Mally turns her upset glare over to the trio, Cat claiming that:

“Hey, don’t give us any bull. Dumbass just seriously wondered in here.”

“We gave him some amnesics to make him forget.” Tizzy adds. Clutching the barely conscious man by his shoulders does Cat stroll over to the door while dragging the poor guy along the floor; the alien girl tossing the guy straight out into the woods.

“Why you up and figure it was best to come here to try a figure out the hell is your bro’s arm.” Tizzy asks. “Well, one book we read on it mentioned that this stuff wound up coming from the depths of space and was hoping that-”

“Oh yes, I see. Since were not from your planet, that would make us the knowledge keepers of all that occupy alongside the stars. Is that it?” Vain accuses. “I was thinking since your parents were intergalactic conquerors, figured that maybe they’ve seen something like this before during a conquest.” Mally quickly gives context for. “Afraid your shit outta like, neither of our mom’s speak a mere mention of whatever disgusting growth came out of your brother’s side; pretty sure if we did, they’d tell us in the form of a terrifying bedtime story told to make ya piss yourself.” Cat explains. “Indeed. Truly humiliating.” “Vain, didn’t you wind up soaking your entire mattress once?” Tizzy wonders. “That was when we got back from swimming and you know it!”

“Kay here. Doesn’t this ship has some advance tech straight out from the realms of a shitty 90’s cartoon? You guys gotta at least got anything that can tell us what his arm’s made off?” Roy then interjects with. “If this ship didn’t take a crashing nosedive straight down into your planets crap that you call soil, we wouldn’t be talking right now. You really think that they wound up getting anything working in the span of a month since we touched down on this overpopulated rock in the middle of the space boonies?”

“Actually, I just finished getting the Material Analyzer up and running a few days ago. We could try that?” Tizzy then mentions.

“Ugh, fine whatever. The sooner you start, the sooner you leave. Make it quick.”

Somewhere within the ship does Roy have his arm of demonic pure black stuck right in a spherical chamber as numerous lasers and lights scan every single inch of them limb; all the data it collects showing up on a screen outside the chamber that Tizzy carefully observe. From this high tech device, a small beep them sounds off; queuing Tizzy to tell them:

“And the analysis is finished. You can take it out now.” “Holy shit finally. Started getting numb after the last half hour. Stuck my hand up something longer, but that’s a story for another day.” Roy states as he slithers his fresh pitch black arm out of the analysis machine’s inner chamber. “So, whatcha come up with?” the orange skater asks. “Well, there doesn’t seem to be anything else belonging to your brother inside. No bones, veins, blood, nothing. Kinda shocking given how close to unstable it is.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, there’s one detail that popped up that bothered me. The genetic make up of his arm primarily consists of strung together chemicals compounds such as Epinephrine, glutamate, Cortisol, Adrenaline, and slight traces of Serotonin. The stuff in your brains that make you feel angry, sad, and scared.” “Is that seriously... why did a bunch of emotional brain juice burst out from Roy’s side and solidify into a working appendage?”

“Maybe that’s something you should ask him.”

The alien suggesting this, the orange skater turns over to her purple brother to ask of him:

“Roy, what might’ve been going through your head moments before that thing came out of you ?” “Well...ya know how we were fighting that giant wood guardian in that hidden Jurassic land and how Alex got fucking impaled right through the stomach?”

“Yeah. I still remember how I felt when I saw that. But how did that wind up triggering you to grow an arm?”

“When I beheld the site of the little devil on a stick, something flashed before my eyes; an image that I felt burst out from the depths of my soul. Two figures, one stabbing the other through the stomach, one wearing a gleeful smile while the other leaked tears from above its horrified frown; both staring out with their hollow white eyes. That alone reminded me of a site that I kept buried deep down for years; and it all suddenly just came up at once like an explosion of confusion, regret, and rage. The closest I could describe it being like would be his mind of the proverbial traumatic edge; teetering on the cusp of madness.”

Upon hearing the purple merc elaborate on the thoughts going through his head is the entire room left at a complete silence; Mally gazing to her violet brother with a mixture of remorse, pity and regretful guilt. Before the orange girl could give even a little word of comfort to him do all of them hear a sharp whistle cut straight through the quiet; the three peering back towards the door to discover Catastrophe leaning against the doorway. “Now that shit’s a full season of a show right there. Closest thing to entertainment I got since crash down on this pathetic little rock.”

“Cat.” Tizzy lightly snaps out. “Something about my emotional trauma funny to ya?” Roy then questions. “You kidding? It’s like one of those shitty characters with a bad backstory crowbarred in to make idiots think they’re deep. Fucking riot right there.”

Amidsts stepping up against the hooded alien girl, the violet angel’s wings sprout forth as the fingers along his pitch black arm starts to get antsy; going on to trash talk on how:

“Guess being on your mama’s little warship for most of your life, ya never really got to feel what its like to be on the other end of life’s massive jackboot. Never really feeling what its like have shit throw right at ya. The fucked up thoughts going through yer head as the memories of all that ya lost come flooding out and crashing onto your psyche til your heads on the verge of melting from the madness…You wanna know what that sort of self inflicting degradation can feel like?”

“That a threat?” Cat wonders with a confident smirk; both of them stand face to face one another as the two give off an overgrowing sense of rising tension. Right as Roy was in the midst of transforming his new arm, something along his other side takes a gentle hold upon the merc’s other limb and breaches through to him, quelling the building rage within; the purple angel gazing off to the side to discover his little sister staring up to him with the look of “Please don’t do it” in her eyes.

In seeing the desperate plea set in his sisters eyes does the purple merc let out a small sigh as he finally breaks away from the antagonizing alien, marching right past Catastrophe and out to the corridor; the violet angel punching the side of the doorway hard enough to leave a hell of a dent. As Mally takes her leave after her pissed off brother, Tizzy approaches her sister with a hammer and tells her to: “Come on. You’re helping me hammer that dent out.” “Like hell I am. Why the hell should I fix something that our guest broke in his little pissy fit?” “Pretty sure you threw a pretty similar one when vain used your little blanket as a dung disposal cleaner.” “You swore never to bring that up!” the two of them hear their semi aquatic brother shout out to them.

As both brother and sister exit out from the downed spacecraft, the orange lass between them starts to apologize with:

“Roy...I-I’m so sorry. I just can’t believe that I didn’t catch on what was bugging you sooner than later. I-I didn’t realize that you were thinking about what happened at-”

“Mally, chill. Ain’t know way you could’ve known the sort of shit that was going through my head. I get you were just worried. But I’ll be just fine. Kay?”

“Hey! What happened back then effected Tore and I too. You ain’t alone on this...Anything ya wanna talk about, we’re here for ya.” “Hm hm hm...Thank’s Mal.” Roy returns with, a heartwarming smile etched across the merc’s face. “No prob...So...You thinkin about headin home?”

“Nah. Still got some stuff to take care of. I’ll be home a little later.”

“Kay. Just don’t get into too much trouble.”

Warning her brother of this does the orange skater swiftly don her skating gear and take off out into the woods; Roy in turn sprouting forth his angelic black wings and taking off into the orange twilight skies.

Among his glide above the nearly thick woodlands, Roy flies back out towards the city of Townsville with the setting sun glistening its twilight gaze at his back; his smile starting to dissipate the farther he flies. “You’ve been awfully quiet about all this.” he suddenly says aloud to break the silence. Out from the depths of his mind does a woman’s voice echo through the merc’s head; responding in kind to him with:

“What do you mean by that?”

“Hera, you usually just chime in in the middle of all this to give some sort of support or to stop me from doing something arguably reprehensible. What’s the deal this time?”

“Roy, have you ever thought a goddess such as I has other duties and responsibilities to tend to then communing with the only mortal I can converse with?”

“...You hiding something aren’t ya?”

“What!? Preposterous! What would urge you to accuse me of something like that?”

“Even with only having clocked in about 16 and a half years in this fucked up game some of us have to call life; I’ve been around long enough to see the warming signs of someone having a long list of secrets hidden somewhere in the bunkers of their head. And a goddess like you without a hell of a doubt’s gotta have some stowed away that vault ya call a head. With what’s on me having been once part of a mighty monster that nearly overtook the world; you think that keeping an eye on even a piece of it would warrant obligation. But Guess not, guess we’ll just blind move along through life; leaving me ignorant of what a threat this could possibly grow into until its far too late and lives are lost. But hey, what’s it with mortals wanting to question what may become of them midst affairs which affect their world, right?”

“Roy, believe me when I say I can’t bring myself to simply tell you with my own words. But if you really wish for the truth and what your arm has to do with me; then I can point you in the right direction.” the goddess in his head assures. “Eh, fair enough. Lead the way.”

The night upon Townsville had come to blanket the city in a think darkness, with nothing but the shadows to accompany the roaming night owls. Atop the mayor building, a dark winged figure hovers down to the very top of its dome rooftop; where upon its arm transforms into a sharp blade that cuts right through its very stone. Cutting a piece right off the roof, the figure lifts the piece right off and slips right on inside.

Along the inside the main office is the door unlocked when a substance of black fills the hole and turns the lock; letting the door creak open and letting the figure walk right in. Within does the figure behold the usual fittings of a mayoral office; books, chairs, desk, computer, bowl of mints, nothing out of the ordinary. And nothing to stop the intruder from venturing over to the desktop and taking a seat behind the screen. With the press of a button does the entire monitor let out an incredible bright light; Roy shielding his site from the intense glow as his eyes adjust to the glow, peeking between his fingers to behold his first obstacle. The password. Rather than blindly attempting to guess the password locking the desktop, the purple merc instead shoves his hand right into his pants pocket and pulls out what appears to be a lone thumb drive; plugging the drive right in and watching the password box fill with numerous letters and numbers until coming to the right code. As the desktop starts to load in, Roy is met with a site that honest to god just baffles him to no end. Is...is this seriously running on Windows 7? That’s 2010’s old. This a government owned desktop! Why the fuck haven’t they updated it yet for security!? Everytime on one of these government owned consoles, they always just have the most out dated Operating systems. One of the computers in the France federal agent building was running on Windows XP for shit sake!? Why!? It doesn’t make any god damn-...Gah! Whatever, not the problem here.

Getting over that strange conundrum, Roy takes the mouse and clicks right into the file explorer, where he starts his search right into the documents. See here...Billing info, Construction plans, Federal investigation, Homoerotic Fanfiction...Incident report. Clicking onto this folder is the purple merc astonished to discover the list of city incidents a literal mile long, the square of the scroll bar being absolutely tiny. Hmm...Dino monster attack, Fire monster attack, slime monster attack, Alien monster attack. Shit, alotta monster attacks here; practically makes up most of the list. Lets try sorting by date. Rearranging the reports by the date they had been documented, one title in particular catches the merc’s attention. “The lady of pink against the Cerberus. 1984” Interesting...Let’s have ourselves a peek here. Clicking right on this title, the document soon loads and present its very text through a writing application, starting his read on the incident beginning with:

“A terrible storm bellows from the east as horrible fires burn through Townsville, centers and businesses crumbling at the seems as a gigantic, dark three headed beast topples everything over in its rampage. Police and military efforts seemed ineffective as fired ammunition seemed to be devoured under the horrible cerberus’s tar like hide. Despite efforts to evacuate, few people escapes from the Chaos as dozens were left injured or burned; or a rather cruel mix of both. As hope for the city had waned to its worst, a female figure donning a heavenly pink glow had flown out from the roaring flames to face the terrible beast; her long blonde hair flowing in the wind. The best this report could describe the ensuing battle was of gods straight from tales of greek mythology; a recreation of the gods against the titans playing out before mortal eyes. With the godly woman of bright pink keeping the terrible beast of black at bay, officials were able to effectively evacuate civilians more effectively.

From what military that stayed behind described, the woman in pink had battled the vicious beast of dark with energy of bright light; her conjured weapons seemingly damaging the monster than any of our conventional weapons could only hope to do. Yet despite the warriors best efforts to defeat this great evil that had descended down upon the city, beast had ultimately worn down the woman midst hours of fighting; the horrible monster in the end devouring the woman in but a single gulp. All hope had seemed utterly crushed as the black demon had cackled upon its very victory; soon turning its burning eyes to the units that had stayed behind. All three of its heads bored a sinister smile as it crawled its way out towards the military unit; some of them fleeing from the seems on its approach while other’s stood their ground, knowing full well there was little they could do to escape from its wrath. Just as the three headed beast was on the verge of striking down the unit, the bowels of its stomach had began to glow a light of faint pink; a glow that quickly began to grow larger and brighter every passing second. In a matter of seconds did this very light explode in a flash of bright pink; blinding every single soldier that stood before the beast of darkness. Once the overwhelming glow had finally dimmed, the unit peered back to find the Cerberus that had terrorized the city was now but in pieces; all with no sign of the brave woman in bright pink light nowhere seen among the remains.

When the cleanup crew had arrived on the seen, most of the remains of the beast had been successfully picked up and stored away from researching purposes; those on the scene had described each piece of the monster as alive, pulsating and wriggling like worms plucked out from the soil. Other’s had witnessed some parts of the monster’s remains slipping away into the night and had attempted to contain every piece before they could escape; while most of the creatures remains had been successfully stowed away in containment, staff have admitted that few pieces had escaped into the unknown. What those pieces of the terrible beast had fled to or what they plan to do is as of yet unknown; something of which may never be realized, else that night may just be only the beginning.”

Its after having read every single paragraph of this report does Roy slump down into the office chair; processing every single detail that he had just read. “Can’t believe it…You gave up living alongside your family just so they could have a future.” Roy awe’s aloud.

“Indeed. And it was with that very sacrifice that I had been chosen to become a goddess.” Its in the midst of this realization that a small, uneasy chuckle starts to escape from him as he leans forward onto the mayor’s desk, Hera wondering in worry:

“Roy?...What’s wrong?” “What’s it worth becoming a god if it meant you couldn’t hold the people you love in your arms anymore; to not longer cherish their very presence as they take in yours? Why not just move on? Why not end it? Suppose those were your final moments inside that thing, weren’t they?” “Roy, when I was offered the position of a goddess. I was told it would involve ensuring the balance of the magical through the universe. Doing such, I could ensure those she left behind had a chance to live for themselves. It has not been easy since then...everyday, I wish to speak them once more, to hold my precious daughter and grandchildren in her arms.”

With all that he had discovered of the very beast that his new arm was once a part of, the violet angel gazes into the dark abyss held within the palm of his hand. “What do ya want done with it?”

“Pardon?” Hera questions. “Its thanks to the monster this arm came from that ya can’t go back to her family; to embrace the ones you loves in you hands. Just knowing that a piece of it is attached to the only person of this world you can converse with must piss you off to no end. Wanting to make sure what happened that night doesn’t befall anyone else.” “I assure to you Roy, that what happened to me that night was something I had decided for myself. I had chosen to give up my life so that others could live. But to make that choice for someone else...it something she could never bring myself to do. Whatever you decide, I’ll stand with you on it.” “No matter where it had came from, this damn thing had taken all the grief and anger that had wielded inside me and had given it a form; but only under my rage has it appeared and obeyed. With what Tore said he could do with life. I wonder if this is what I can do with what’s here?” “And is that what you wish out of it?” the goddess questions. Its in being asked this does the merc’s arm of pitch black clutch into a tight fist, the angel’s uncertain glare transforming into a determined grin. “That’s what it should be.”

------------------------------------------------------------

Thought that a little downtime would be appropriate here after the last chapter. Not a lot going on here beside a quick piece of lore and chemistry between characters. Though I purposely set this Chapter up as a repeat of the one where Roy was coping with the loss of his arm, thought it'd be thematically appropriate here.

#lillaxtrigger #Young Hope #callyieverse

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angelsfalling16 · 4 years ago

Text

Playlist Confessions

Read it on ao3

Part of my Christmas Ficlets series

Prompt: “You made me a Christmas playlist, but it’s just Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want for Christmas is you.’ I can’t tell if you’re hitting on me or if it’s just a joke.”

Word Count: 1382

***

Baz

This has to be some kind of a joke. Or a mistake. Maybe I wasn’t the intended recipient of this email or its attachment. I look over the email again, searching for any sign that this may have been meant for someone else.

The subject line is blank, and there is only one line of text that comprises the entire email. It simply reads: I made this for you.

Leave it to Simon Snow to send an email this succinct and uninformative, not so much as addressing the recipient. I click on the attached link and am taken to a playlist entitled, “All I Want for Christmas is You.”

I scroll through the songs and find that it’s just the same song over and over. It isn’t even different covers of the song. It is three whole hours of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You.”

Why would Simon send this to me?

It’s some strange idea of a joke or an even stranger way of hitting on me or he sent it to me by accident.

It has to be that last option.

Even though we’re being forced to share a dorm room, Simon and I haven’t spoken in a long time.

When we were first roomed together, we fought constantly, day and night, any time we were in there together. I did everything I could to get a new roommate or moved to a different room, but there weren’t any openings anywhere. I was stuck there.

I’m not sure why I couldn’t get along with Simon. I just couldn’t stand the guy or his atrocious personality from the moment we met.

And when I realized that I was developing feelings for the guy, I hated him even more.

I hated that he made me both disgusted and attracted to him. I hated that he had pictures of him and his girlfriend stuck all over the room when I hadn’t even had a real relationship because I’m afraid to be honest about who I am.

The battle I was waging in my head became one that I waged with Simon. We kept getting into verbal and physical altercations pretty much every day. It wasn’t until I got in a lucky punch one day and accidentally sent him flying down the stairs that anyone stepped in to try to stop us. And at that point, the consequences of our actions were serious enough to put an end to the turmoil.

We were told that if we got into another fight with each other, we would be kicked out of the dorm and banned from any student housing and could even face possible expulsion from the school.

That was when Simon and I decided to stop talking to each other and attempt to ignore each other’s presence. We just have to make it through the end of the semester, which is now just two weeks. I’ll find an apartment or something for Spring semester, whatever it takes to get me away from him.

***

I don’t look up when Simon returns to our room later that afternoon. But then he crosses to my side of the room and comes to stand right next to me, making it impossible to ignore him.

I pull an earbud from my ear and sneer up at him, making it clear that I’m not happy about him invading my personal space.

“What are you listening to?” It’s the first thing he has said to me in months, and I realize that I’ve missed the sound of his voice.

“Study music. What’s it to you?” I reply, not an ounce of kindness in my tone.

He shrugs. “Just wondering.”

I study his expression for something, anything, but he only looks genuinely curious.

Still, with the timing of his question, I have to wonder if I was, in fact, the intended recipient of the playlist he sent.

He turns and walks back to his side of the room, leaving me to wonder once again if the playlist was merely a joke or meant to be something more.

I go to my email and bring up the playlist again, hitting play and listening to it, that same Christmas song on repeat as I try to figure out what I should do.

Finally, I get an idea. A truly terrible one.

Opening up a new tab on my laptop, I begin curating a playlist of my own. At first, I try to pick a Christmas song that will say what I want to but quickly abandon that when I think of a different song that will work perfectly.

A few minutes later, I’ve finished making a two-hour long playlist consisting only of Cheap Trick’s “I Want You to Want Me.”

It’s the perfect song.

If Simon meant his playlist as a joke, I’ll easily be able to convince him that I was just doing what he did: picking a song that is okay to listen to once but when listened to on repeat, quickly annoys the listener. And if he meant for the playlist, which is extremely unlikely, then this song perfectly describes how I feel about him.

I quickly compose an email, leaving the subject line and only typing one line of text in the body of it before attaching a link to the playlist.

I hit send then begin quickly packing my study materials into my messenger bag so that I can avoid being there to see his reaction.

As I make my way to the door, I see Simon checking something on his phone, and just before I close the door behind me, I see him pull out a pair of headphones.

Hurrying out of the dorm, I consider going to the campus library, but this close to finals, it’s bound to be packed. I decide to instead head to the coffee shop near the student union instead. With less than an hour until closing, there shouldn’t be too many people there.

***

I have just fallen into a good rhythm with my brit lit essay when the door to the coffee shop is thrown open, letting in a freezing wind that blows throughout the room, and in walks Simon with no jacket and flushed cheeks, looking out of breath as if he ran here.

He glances around the coffee shop, and when his eyes meet mine, his face lights up like he’s just found the thing he’s been searching for his whole life.

He marches over to me, nearly tripping over the leg of a chair in his rush, and without saying a word he holds his hand out to me. I hesitate a moment before warily taking his hand. He pulls me to my feet but still doesn’t say anything.

Simon has never been very good with his words, stuttering and struggling to get out a full sentence, but I wait patiently to see what’s going on in his mind. Is he going to hit me? Laugh in my face?

It turns out that it’s neither. He tugs on my hand, and I stumble into him. He catches me and then crashes his lips into mine.

For a brief moment, I worry about the other patrons, but I decide that I don’t care what they think. All I care about is this moment right here.

I bring my hand up to tangle in his hair and guide him into a gentler kiss, letting him know that it’s okay, that we have time. There’s no need to rush.

He slows and kisses me softly, moving his jaw in a way that nearly has me swooning.

As we kiss, I begin to think that maybe talking was always going to be our downfall. If we hadn’t silenced ourselves, I don’t think we ever would have ended up here. And not talking is so much better, especially when there are so much better things we can do with our mouths.

Simon doesn’t have to say a word to tell me how he feels or what he wants. He’s always been better with actions, and right now they’re telling me that what he wants is me.

I reciprocate in a way that tells him I want him too and that I care deeply about him and want this to last.

#snowbaz #snowbaz ficlet #christmas ficlets #my writing #simon snow series #does the title even make sense?#idk #i'm tired #also i need to stop posting poorly edited fics #sorry for any mistakes

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kogo-dogo · 4 years ago

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I looked at your favorite character top 5 thing and there's the one character you said was your ''problematic fave''. And I've heard of that game before because I saw somebody play it on Youtube once, I think the second one, and I was just curious about the character. Torque?? Because it seems like such a bad game and he didn't seem to have much personality but you seem very attacked so I was wondering if maybe it was worth looking into the series or something. I like old games.

I am so sorry that I said a week ago I’d answer this, Anon. I have so many thoughts about this probably-actually-one-dimensional character because I’ve had sixteen years to pick apart every scrap of info that exists about him. And overanalysis of fictional men is, at this point, my primary hobby.

First of all… eh. I won’t say to definitively not look into the series, but I would encourage you not look into the series. It’s one of those things that’s aged like an open bottle of two-buck chuck and I can tell you right now that it wouldn’t be as palatable in 2020 as it was in 2004. As much as I love Prison is Hell (the first game) and as much as I get what they were trying to do, they messed a lot of things up and it wouldn’t translate well to modern times. This is especially true for Ties That Bind. Oh my god, do NOT play Ties That Bind if you’re easily offended.

It’s fascinating to pick apart, though, even if it seems extremely basic on the surface level, and part of the reason I like Torque so much is because he’s a very interesting character to crack open and inspect. I know he probably Isn’t That Deep, but he’s interesting, figuring him out is a puzzle because of the way storytelling is carried out, and if he’d been handled better, would probably still be remembered beyond “quiet dude in a game Youtubers occasionally play on Halloween.” He’s really an unfortunate casualty of that era of gaming. It’s surprising he was handled with any dignity at all.

Spoilers are to follow, but it’s for the best. Now you don’t have to play the game.

First, a disclaimer: The Suffering games do work on a morality system, where you can get good or bad endings based on how you treat other people. The game is heavily designed to favor the good ending, and most people I’ve spoken to have agreed the good endings are likely canonical considering how much you’d miss while playing neutral/evil. So, we’re going with the “Good Aligned Torque is Canon” angle.

Okay. Now.

- Who is Torque?

This guy.

Torque is, in essence, what happens when you take every tired trope of a horror movie villain and flip it around on its head. He’s a severely mentally ill inmate convicted of murder (while it’s never outright stated what mental illnesses he has, it’s pretty obviously a mixture of DID and schizophrenia), he never speaks (at least not in the present; he does have scant dialogue in flashbacks in the second game; it amounts to maybe eight words total), and he is… freakishly strong. Beyond that, there’s very heavy evidence that he’s somehow supernaturally inclined.

The difference is that, instead of being presented as the villain, he’s the hero. He’s not just the hero, he’s basically one of the very few competent people in the games. Nobody treats him any different than they would anyone else, the game doesn’t go out of its way to underline that he’s some kind of “monster,” and even when the most monstrous of his alters presents itself (The Creature, who we’ll discuss later), people are just kind of like, “Oh, well that was different” and then move on with their lives.

He is a character who could very easily take the place of Jason Voorhees, and instead of being given a machete and told to kill everyone he comes across, he’s given a fire ax and a voice in his head that tells him to take care to think about how much other people are struggling and that maybe, being that he is probably stronger than them, he should put forth the effort to get them someplace safe.

- Okay, but, like… WHO is he? Character-wise?

If you want his backstory, it’s actually one of the best parts about him and one of the few things that Ties That Bind expands upon correctly. To summarize, he’s a victim of the state that fell through the cracks, pieced his life back together, and then ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

To be more long-winded: He was a troubled child with psychiatric problems who lost both of his parents in a car accident. With no living relatives beyond his parents, he was placed into the Garvey Children’s Home, where the conditions were less than ideal. A mixture of strain, trauma, loneliness, and desperation prompted his brain to divide up into three: himself, Blackmore, and The Creature. Then, left to navigate life and his own mental health on his own, he ended up falling in with some very bad crowds.

He became a drug dealer. He got in a lot of altercations. He was in and out of prison. This only stopped when he met his wife and became a family man, and began to consciously put forth the effort to right himself. He had two sons, had everything under control… and then ended up in prison again when the guy he used to work for on the streets hired a man to come pay him a visit at his friend’s bar and press every last one of his buttons until he snapped. He wound up in prison, his wife divorced him, and everyone assumed he’d end up back to his old tricks.

Except… he didn’t go back to being a drug dealer. He got a job at a gym instead. He stayed on the right track. He started reconciling with his ex-wife who, right before the events of the first game, moved back in with him.

This didn’t sit well with the men Torque used to run with, especially not the guy he used to work for… so a hit was ordered on him and his family. He wasn’t home when it was carried out. He walked in, found his wife and kids dead, and passed out in his apartment from the shock, where the police found him after receiving a tip.

He was bloody. He was disoriented. He was known to be a repeat offender. They pinned the whole thing on him and, after a very unfair trial, he was sentenced to death.

The first day he arrives in prison--located on scenic Carnate Island--the ground opens up and monsters begin sweeping over the land. Convenient.

- Wait, this bitch has alters?

Yeah. This… isn’t really a part of the game that’s handled well, but it’s interesting. There’s a lot of weirdness going on with Torque (remember that supernatural bend I mentioned?), and one of the two is… well, I’m not sure he’s an alter at all.

First, there’s Torque himself who is just a short-tempered, easily frustrated, but generally reasonable guy who really just wanted to keep his head above water. Secondly, there’s The Creature, a defense mechanism and literal monster that is incapable of communication and rears its head whenever he feels threatened. Physically threatened, generally, which resulted in The Creature being a bit violent. Torque has a pretty extensive arrest record and most of his arrests seem to revolve around “punched a guy at an inopportune time.”

Blackmore is more complicated, because he isn’t really clear. You see, there’s a snippet of dialogue in the second game and a lot of environmental storytelling that indicates that Torque is supernaturally gifted somehow (something he likely inherited from his mother), and that some of his mental illnesses are actually paranormal interference. Blackmore is the biggest gray area, because while he is presented as an alter, he… very much defies that.

He’s presented as a presence that Torque experiences externally and that only he can see (not really uncommon; Torque hallucinates pretty frequently throughout the game), but he also seems to be aware and consciously trying to control Torque. When that fails, he settles for trying to find a way to take over Torque’s body permanently. He’s capable of actually getting in physical altercations with Torque, but at the same time can hijack his body to do things he wouldn’t normally be able to do. He honestly smacks more of something Torque is possessed by instead of something his brain came up with itself, made all the more obvious by the fact that the final battle in the second game is literally Torque and Blackmore beating the everloving hell out of each other after Torque consciously realizes that nobody can perceive Blackmore but him.

But at the same time, that guy that Torque worked for that ordered the hit on his family? That’s Blackmore. There’s a lot of talk about how nobody has ever seen Blackmore (indicating he only communicated via writing or phone or what have you), and it’s all… very, very stupid. It’s one of those things in TTB that made me throw up my hands and go, “Well, sure. Okay. Let’s just do that, then. That makes perfect sense thanks.”

(I do not like most of Ties That Bind.)

- Okay, so he’s supernatural somehow?

Mm-hm. Again, it’s never explicitly stated, but heavily implied through some dialogue from my second favorite character in the game (DR. Q.L. KILLJOY, MOTHERFUCKER) and just the way the story plays out.

Carnate Island erupts with a bad case of monsters the second Torque sets foot on the island. A prologue you unlock after you beat the game once reveals that Torque actually hallucinated the first game’s end boss before he even saw it, indicating he has some precognitive abilities. The sentient spirits of both games know who Torque is and take a special interest in him, and plenty make allusions that they’re “more alike” than he thinks. Blackmore is very clearly paranormal in origin and seems to even be able to command the monsters in some way.

Hell, Dr. Killjoy even implies at the end of the first game that Torque is somehow making all of this happen and, only by tackling the root of his problems, can he make everything stop.

While there’s never been an active fandom for this game, I used to associate with a small group of fans, and there was actually a lot of discussion/disagreements about whether Torque actually had any form of psychosis or if maybe he had latent psychic abilities he couldn’t control. Seeing things all the time, causing things to accidentally happen that nobody would believe; it’d be easy to be chalked up with a disorder when there’s no way to know or prove what you’re experiencing is Real Shit.

- Why do you hate Ties That Bind so much?

Because of the way it improperly handles a bunch of mental health stuff that the first game wisely didn’t actually touch on much beyond acknowledging the fact that This Guy Are Sick.

Prison is Hell makes it very evident that Torque has psychiatric problems but never dwells on it overmuch. There’s even an entire chapter of the game that takes place in an old asylum with an early 1900s alienist ghost (DR. KILLJOY) trying to diagnose and “treat” Torque, and it still is mostly hinged on the horrors of old-timey treatment of mentally ill patients than anything about Torque. That and Dr. Killjoy’s misguided good intent (that dude deserves a whole essay of his own, to be honest).

Instead of hammering it home that he has Issues and deciding to talk too much about Issues, it just treats Torque like a human being. Your main goal is getting off the island and saving stragglers along the way, all of which react to Torque just the same way they would to anyone. COs will either be authoritative or condescending. Fellow inmates will be suspicious but more likely to work with him. Everyone is always gracious for his help, and nobody makes any odd remarks about anything weird he does (barring when The Creature shows up; then, they just remark on, “DUDE HOW IN THE FUCK?” because you find out, later on, that all they see is Torque getting in fist fights with things twice his size and winning).

Torque is just Torque. He just do what Torque do.

Ties That Bind then goes barreling into a bunch of tired tropes and tries to make a convoluted twist ending, and then there’s the whole matter of the secret underground organization that wants to capture Torque and have been working with Blackmore and you end up fighting a helicopter and some SWAT-looking motherfuckers and… they try so much harder to be edgy and gritty and it’s really fucking stupid.

The only good things you get out of it are some further snippets into Torque’s backstory (appreciated), the return of Dr. Q.L. Killjoy (always welcome), and a set of monsters known as Gorgers (they make purr-gle sounds when they eat and I love them).

Oh, and Consuela. She is mentioned in the first game and actually shows up in the second, and I can respect any woman who gets captured by an evil paramilitary organization and, immediately upon being rescued, takes the biggest gun she can find, looks you dead in the eye, and says, “I’m going to steal a fucking boat, drive it straight into a warzone, and rescue my goddamn husband. You with me or not?”

She is literally some female parallel to Torque and my headcanon is they are bros.

- Anything else?

Yeah. The soundtrack for the game is pretty awesome and ended up inspiring some other music in a couple of other video games of the time (Mortal Kombat: Armageddon immediately comes to mind). They actually rigged up some pretty cool contraptions to make unique sounds and ambience using shit like scrap metal and garbage, and the results are pretty fucking cool.

Favorites of mine are the boss themes for Hermes, and Dr. Killjoy, with Dr. Killjoy’s being my absolute favorite of all of them. The main theme of the game is pretty great, too, and is probably the most iconic of all of the songs on the OST. I’ve even heard it used in stuff where I doubt people knew what the hell The Suffering was, lol.

#i've been working on this off and on for a week #because i totally don't care too much about characters nobody else cares about #seems suiting to post it now on Halloween #considering he's a horror game character

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reddie-fangirl24 · 5 years ago

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Hey! I was wondering if you would be able to write a that 70s show crossover au from that episode where kelso finds out that Hyde and Jackie got together, but Bill is kelso, Hyde is Richie, and Jackie is Eddie?? Thank u!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR COMMISSION!

Support me on my Ko-Fi!

“So, Bill, did a shark really eat your license?” A skeptical Beverly asked as she and the other Losers walked into the Denbrough kitchen. There wasn’t a day where they all weren’t taking up space in the Denbrough household. None of the other parents would let them do that. For most, it was a way to escape from their own houses.

Stanley froze up when he glanced outside the door. Eddie and Richie were making out in the driveway right then and there! Come on, didn’t they have some sense?

“What say we go see what’s on TV?” Ben tried to block the door. All summer, Bill was trying to get over his broken heart from Eddie. Eddie wanted so much and Bill didn’t believe that he could give him what he wanted. Running away to California didn’t do much other than making Bill realize how messed up the whole idea was.

Beverly went with him just to escape from her dad for the summer. She thought she could have gotten away with it all if her dad didn’t track her down. It took a day, but Stanley was able to convince Bill to come back home.

“Mike, w-weren’t you skeptical about it, t-too?” Bill didn’t register what was going on. Distracted, Mike nodded his head and tried to make Bill walk into the other room. Bill couldn’t help avoid smiling. Nor stuttering. Because he stopped attending therapy sessions to help him with his stutter, it returned much to his dismay.

Before continuing on with the rest of his story, Bill turned quiet, staring out the door into the driveway in disbelief.

“Why is Eddie kissing Richie?” he asked, not even stuttering. The way Bill said it made chills run up Beverly’s spine, making her nervously tangle her finger through her ginger hair. It reminded her of the way her dad spoke to her.

Have no idea what to tell him, the Losers looked away, ashamed about keeping Eddie and Richie’s relationship a secret from Bill. Up until now, they never kept secrets from one another.

How could Richie do this to him? The other night when Bill went to talk to Eddie about where their relationship stood all Eddie told him was that he wasn’t sure and that he had to think about it. He lied...

Storming towards the door, Bill struggled to open it. Out in the driveway, Eddie and Richie noticed the peculiar noise. In unison, they turned to look at Bill. Panicking when they saw how angry he looked, the couple ran away. Knowing Richie, he always ran into the Denbrough’s basement for safety. He was never fond of being in his own home.

“Open this fucking door! Why the fuck won’t it open?” Bill hollered, whacking at his own door.

“Bill, Bill,” Ben stepped in, putting one hand on Bill’s back in order to calm him. He was rapidly breathing a little too fast. He then easily slid the door open. Bill was in such a rage that he forgot how his own door worked. How embarrassing.

Racing out of the house, Bill ran down the step to the basement and banged on the door, twisting at the locked knob. “Open t-the door!”

“Bill stop!” Stanley yelled. His friends were right behind him.

“Let us explain!” Beverly added.

“You all knew and you didn’t tell me?” Bill spat, accusing them. Being accused was not something that Mike liked, making him back away a bit.

“Can we just talk this out?” Ben asked him. Talking was the best source. Bill was never the type to get into a physical altercation. Except once.

“I want to talk to Eddie and Richie!” Bill declared pointing at the locked door. He was fuming.

Beverly stepped in and knocked on the door (AKA her special code knock).

“Beverly?” Richie asked nervously on the other side of the door.

“Yes, it’s me,” she answered.

“Is Bill there?”

“No,”

“That’s a lie!”

Bill groaned. He couldn’t take this any longer. “Richie, can you please open the door? I need to talk to you and Eddie,” Bill told him as calmly as he could.

“Are you going to hit us?” He heard Eddie ask nervously.

“When have I ever hit you?”

Richie pulled the curtain in the window of the doorway back making a ‘duh’ look. “Do I really have to remind you about that?”

“I’m not going to hit you. Can we please just talk?” Bill begged. He really needed to. Because he was away for almost three months he felt do behind with all his friends. That felt so wrong of him to abandon them like that.

Especially when senior year of high school was looming around the corner. It wasn’t the first time he let them down. Bill wanted to punch himself knowing that he was better than that.

After a moment, the door to the basement opened. For safety, Richie held out the lid of garbage bin to protect him. Eddie sat up on the beat-up couch with his hands tucked between his lap. He was too guilty to look Bill in the eyes.

“How long?” Bill asked.

“Three months,” Richie answered, still continuing to shield himself.

“Are you kidding, asshole? Two and half months!” Eddie told him.

Rolling his eyes, Richie nodded. “What he said.”

Silent, Bill walked over and sat down with Eddie. Leaving was such a terrible idea and he wished that he could go back and erase it. If he stayed, he could have patched things up with Eddie.

“You all knew?” Bill didn’t even look up at the band of Losers. This was one of the first days in which they were all hanging out together as a group.

“Only for a couple of weeks,” Ben said.

“Yeah, they were keeping it a secret from us, too,” Mike added. He found out on accident when he walked into the Denbrough’s kitchen. Eddie and Richie tried to act as if they were practicing CPR to no avail.

“Bill, Richie and I wanted to talk to you,” Eddie told him.

“So, why d-didn’t you?”

“I tried to! When we were trying to get a new license because you lost it in the ocean,” Richie revealed. Not knowing that Bill was trying to cover that up with the shark story, Bill slapped his face in embarrassment. “But, I was afraid of what you’d say.”

Taking another breath, Bill got up from the sofa, walking over to Richie. For a few seconds, he just stared into his eyes as hot tears filled his eyes. He was the first friend that he ever made in kindergarten.

Lifting his fist, Richie didn’t flinch. He didn’t even shield himself with the trash barrel lid. “You got a free shot,” Richie told him. He even took off his glasses.

Bill’s mouth trembled. This was his best friend. He went to Richie for everything, even the time when he found out about Georgie’s... death. No matter what, Richie was always there to help him smile in the worst of times.

Giving in, Bill sat down in a nearby chair, staring hard into the floor. Everything was changing. It was all so unfair. He worried his parents which he didn’t even think about. Worse, Bill was their only son now so if they lost him it would be the end of the world.

Bill could only think back to the past when his parents refused to notice him in their grief over Georgie. Why couldn’t he travel back in time to when things were easier?

“We’re sorry, Bill,” Eddie apologized again, scooting closer to him. “I still want to be friends.”

“Look, Bill, we have to settle this,” Richie told him, matter of factly. “I-I didn’t plan on this. Well, maybe I had feelings for Eddie for a while, but how the fuck would I ever understand that? The point is, I love Eddie.”

The whole room lit up. Eddie’s mouth flew open, needing to grab his inhaler so he could breathe. Standing up, Eddie slowly walked over to Richie. “Y-You love me?”

Embarrassed, Richie looked away, but he nodded. He took his hand. “Yes.” And they kissed.

“AWW!” Beverly cooed at the scene, resorting a hand against her heart. This was like a scene from the movies.

“Get bent, Ringwald!” Richie yelled at her. As always, Beverly flipped him off.

Then, Richie turned his focus back to Bill. “Anyway, Bill, I want us to be cool,” he held out his hand. “Shake.”

Smiling lightly, Bill accepted. “Losers gotta stick together.”

Now that everything was fixed, the group of friends could take a breath after the heated argument. “So, what do you guys want to do now?” Stanley asked.

Richie looked towards the circular table. “You know, we haven’t had a group circle all summer.”

Eddie turned up his nose. Stanley did as well, relieved that they didn’t have to do what Richie was implying.

“You’re disgusting!” Eddie told him.

“Hey, you’re dating me!” Richie retorted.

#Reddie #The Losers Club #It 2017 #It Movie #Bill Denbrough #Richie Tozier #Eddie Kaspbrak #Beverly Marsh #Ben Hanscom #Mike Hanlon #Stanley Uris #IT Fanfiction #Crossover #That 70s Show

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bbq-hawks-wings · 5 years ago

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I sincerely hope Keigo and Touya didn't meet at the HPSC. Other than finding it unlikely-ish, I don't want Touya intruding on Hawks' backstory in that way. He may already be in it, sorta. But I personally don't like that one. Anyways, had a thought that if they were to meet. Where exactly is that building now? Tokyo? At least if they moved Hawks from Kyushu to Honshu, he'd be closer to the Todoroki's. Its not like they let Hawks live in his old home right? Not with the state of that place.

“I’m hesitant to agree with Keigo and Touya being physically present for the Takami theif capture. Why would Endeavor take a child to a whole other island while on duty, and boom. Now the world knows about Todoroki Touya and I don’t think they do. But Keigo speaks of Endeavor as if he saw his flames shinning personally. Maybe not on TV as I previously thought? If that parent never came home, just the footage and knowing Endeavor stopped him could be considered being saved. You can be a shinning light just from giving hope or relief too right? It’s like respite.

Back to the other ask, Hawks being in Honshu could kinda explain why he knows Standard Japanese. Sure he’d learn anyways from hearing people who speak it, but also from being in a region that speaks it. Uses it more than Hakata dialect, despite slipping into it sometimes. I wonder if he chose Kyushu for his agency to return to a place he couldn’t grow up in? To be further from the HC? Tokyo too crowded? I mean there’s already so many big name heroes in the other regions. Honshu mostly I’m sure. That’s like half of the top ten. And there’s U.A. Hawks is the only one in Kyushu. Which is also the most distant from other places by both location and language. As if Hawks wasn’t alone and cut off enough already. Though logically it makes sense. Sent four asks, sorry!“

Anon- he-HEY! Anon. Anonanonanoanonaonanon. Look at me. For the past month the overwhelming bulk of my human interaction has been limited to a single toddler who currently only seems to ask for snacks and thinks pulling my hair/climbing all over me is just the best thing in the world.

Don’t you dare apologize about having a detailed discussion about this otherwise pointless thing I am still nonetheless passionate for, personally cannot shut up about, and have almost no one in my immediate circle with whom to talk about it.

This is a lot to cover so I’ll put the rest under the cut and try to break down your argument point by point to respond.

1. You feel like Touya entering Keigo’s story in the way that theory outlines doesn’t feel quite right - either from an emotional standpoint or otherwise.

On this point I would agree, not so much because it has anything to do with Keigo but moreso what it means for Dabi and the way his story has been built up against Endeavor up to this point. Dabi has been built up as a result of Endeavor’s abysmal failure as a hero and a father. While I would certainly argue at this point Dabi has accrued his own hefty laundry list of sins to account for, for him to be “solely” responsible for his own demise doesn’t gel cleanly with the narrative setup so far.

2. Potentially moving Keigo’s location during childhood/training would put him in closer proximity to the Todoroki’s.

This feels pretty plausible, and I would also be inclined to agree but again probably for different reasons.

A. His previous home was likely at least not conducive to the strict training he was about to go through as you mentioned.

B. For a long-time ward like that it’s probably easier on the organization, family, and child if he lived closer to headquarters where resources were more readily available due to already-present demand (i.e. other trainees).

C. I hesitate to weigh in on the language aspect as I don’t know enough about Japanese dialects, and these in particular, to comment much. I know that some Japanese dialects are so different from standard that even native speakers can have trouble understanding them. Standard Japanese is more than likely used in most media and entertainment across the country, though, (just like standard American English is where I am), so I probably wouldn’t say that’s how he knows it; but it would contribute to him being able to switch more smoothly between. Those introduced to and enforced to speak a specific way in specific circumstances (especially when young) can easily be trained to immediately respond instantly in whatever assigned speech pattern - often naturally doing so after a few short years of practice. It’s code-switching, though the fact that he more naturally falls into the Hakata dialect when comfortable or excitable enough to slip may actually reinforce the idea that he was located in a place where his relaxed, informal speech was Hakata (like at home) and switched to standard when working/training.

For those who aren’t as familiar with Japan’s geography, Kyushu is the southernmost island of Japan, and Honshu is the largest, main island where most of the big-name cities like Tokyo and Kyoto are located. UA Academy is located in the fictional city of Musutafu, Japan which is meant to be close to Tokyo. For the purpose of the argument, we’ll just consider those relevant regions Tokyo-adjacent. We actually don’t have much information as to the official location headquarters for the Hero Public Safety Commission, but just for a common point of reference we can probably assume it’s Tokyo-adjacent as well.

3. Speculation about Endeavor’s role in Keigo’s training/saving him.

This one gets fuzzy because there’s important gaps we’re missing. We know for certain that Keigo saved a street-crossing’s worth of people from a high speed multi-car pileup accident; we have solid evidence to believe that Endeavor and Keigo met face-to-face (even just a glance) when he was a child; we know Endeavor specifically stopped some thief with familial ties of some kind to Keigo, and we know that Endeavor in particular inspired Keigo to be a hero.

What’s fuzzy is the order and timing of these events. In the flashback to Keigo saving those strangers it’s unclear if he was immediately identified as the person who saved them (aside from the description of “a kid”). He was eventually discovered, but “Find this wonder child, quickly!” means there was some amount of searching involved.

It’s unknown if the “thief Takami” was an immediate family member or even just Keigo himself. Given his age at the time, it’s at least suspect that a child that small would single-handedly draw the attention of a top hero without due cause, though with his quirk and given the fact that he was already so adept at using it (which we’ve seen in the series comes from practice) it’s not out of the question to believe that this thief was using Keigo as an accessory to whatever theft was taking place and thus drew Endeavor’s attention.

It’s possible Keigo never met Endeavor face-to-face. It’s possible that Thief Takami directly or indirectly caused the accident either in an altercation with Endeavor or while committing a crime - at which point Keigo swooped in and saved the day. In either case, Endeavor may have been the one to find/recognize Keigo as the hero prodigy or by taking custody of the thief inadvertently revealed Keigo’s identity to the HPSC. While he may have more or less recruited Keigo himself at that point, more than likely in the reporting of the incident, the “wonder child” was rediscovered.

It’s also possible that a string of coincidences and misconceptions led to Endeavor becoming Hawks’ personal inspiration as a hero in a similar way All Might was to Deku - a kid beaten and battered by society with a heart for others has a chance meeting with the hero he admires for specific, intangible reasons to be told from the horse’s mouth “you too can be a hero.” Assuming this, in Keigo’s case it’s tragic in the grand scheme of things as it was a matter of displayed aptitude rather than the spirit of the action that was recognized in Keigo during a time where Endeavor sought mere ability in a youth for his own narcissism to the point of torturing his own young children to attempt to pry it out of them. In other words, while a tiny child like Keigo was still aspiring to ideals over results he associated those qualities with a man who did not embody them and thus subjected himself to a lifetime of coercion under false pretenses even despite the fact his own intentions were pure.

Linking back up to point #1, I feel like that’s more in line with the story Horikoshi is setting up; but we won’t know until we have more information. At this point, I think almost - if not all - our questions will be answered soon. It’s just a matter of being patient for the drip-drip-drip trickle of information we get chapter by chapter every week.

#spoiler!hawks #spoiler!dabi #let's talk hawks

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rockandrollstorytime · 5 years ago

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Rock and Roll Storytime #9: The Decline and Death of Brian Jones

I’ve probably made it no secret that I have a freaky-ass memory throughout the course of this series, and this won’t be an exception. Aside from many of the exact dates, I can remember exactly how I got obsessed with Brian Jones.

It started in May 2019 while I was goofing off in art class. I was trying to write about the 27 Club, being obsessed with Kurt Cobain at the time, when I found myself captivated by a certain other blonde in the club.

I don’t know what kept me around. Maybe it was the delicate features framed by silky blond hair. Maybe it was the complicated story of his life. Maybe it was his mysterious death, and my drive to find out what really happened. Or maybe it was that shitty movie they made about him in 2005.

Whatever the reason, I stuck around. I’ll even put it this way: “Came for the morbidity stayed for the music. “

Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

It took me about a week or two to come up with my first theory between wondering what the hell I was getting myself into and trying to decide whether I should watch Stoned. I found out very early on that Brian had developed asthma at the age of four after a bout of croup. Knowing that asthma attacks can result in death, I didn’t think it unlikely that Brian could have drowned as a result of an asthma attack. In my research, I found an article stating that chlorine mixing with organic material can trigger symptoms of asthma attacks and allergic reactions.

I knew I’d need more evidence though but given that I didn’t want to be too intrusive this early on, that would be a slow process. If there was one thing I held on to, it was my firm resolute to not fall for another murder conspiracy so soon. It didn’t end so well for me the last time.

As I was trying to piece together what exactly happened to Brian Jones, I was also beginning to find out the story of how he got to that point in the first place.

There are many reasons I have love-hate relationships with Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, and their treatment of Brian Jones is by far the biggest one.

Where the story of Brian Jones’ decline really starts is at the Ealing Club on 7 April 1962. It was here that a young Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, and Dick Taylor saw Brian “Elmo Lewis” Jones take the stage for the first time. The next month, Brian put an ad in the papers for musicians to come join a band he was starting. He quickly brought together Ian Stewart, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Dick Taylor, and Tony Chapman. The band, which Brian dubbed “The Rollin’ Stones,” gave their first performance on 12 July 1962, though there seems to be some confusion over who was playing drums that night. Bill Wyman replaced Dick Taylor on 7 December 1962, and Charlie Watts replaced Tony Chapman on 9 January 1963.

In the early days, Brian served as the Stones’ manager. It ended up being this very thing that led to the first cracks in this fortuitous partnership.

First thing’s first, Andrew Loog Oldham came along, and in May, he became the Stones’ manager. He only really had eyes for Mick and was one of the ones who led the subsequent whispering campaign against Brian. Not helping anything was when, on 13 October 1963, the others found out that Brian had been paying himself an extra £5 ($5.58). These were expenses he deducted because he believed that should be his pay, considering he was doing much of the work at this time. (I can sort of relate; I’ve suffered through high school group projects).

On the economics side (lord knows, that’s more Mick’s thing than mine), Bill Wyman has since stated that the Stones were making £193 ($215.38) a week. Adjusting for inflation, Brian was deducting roughly £87.26 out of £3,608.53. For the Americans in the crowd, that’s roughly $114.20 out of $4,722.66, once adjusted for inflation. Granted, across the board, that’s roughly 2.5% of the band’s total income at this point. Still, even that much might matter when you’re a bunch of starving artists.

When Paul Trynka summarized why everybody was pissed in his book, Brian Jones: The Making of the Rolling Stones, he said that for Mick, it was because he was a student at the London School of Economics. Five pounds is five pounds. Meanwhile, Keith was pissed because he, like everyone else in the band, was under the impression that they were earning equal pay in this group effort.

Pro-tip: If you start a band and feel you should be paid more because of how much of the work you’re doing, please disclose this with your band and work out an arrangement that will be beneficial to everyone. Otherwise, shit gets ugly.

Brian also didn’t help his case by insisting on staying in fancier hotels than the others (he was a bit of a neat-freak and a narcissist).

Keith later said, “He had an arrangement with (Eric) Easton, that as leader of the band he was entitled to this extra payment. Everybody freaked out. That was the beginning of the decline of Brian. We said, ‘Fuck you…’”

Meanwhile, Ian Stewart (who had been ousted from the band earlier that year) stated, “When we started playing outside London, Brian said, ‘I’m the leader of the group and I think I’ll stay at the best hotel. All the rest of you can stay in a cheaper hotel.’ Of course, the rest of the Stones just laughed at him, and that was it from then on. It was all over for him as the leader. He started to isolate himself because of this attitude.”

With one little five-pound note (and an ego trip), Brian had set in motion his entire downfall.

It might seem petty to myself and plenty of other Brian Jones fans, but lord knows, I’m not Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, or Andrew Loog Oldham. Besides, I have no idea how I’ll feel about all this in five years.

Meanwhile, I must confess that I almost did fall into that mindset of believing Brian was murdered. In June 2019, I was in Paris, on a trip across France led by my French teacher. Somewhere between trying not to lose my mind in a big city and taking awkward selfies at Jim Morrison’s grave, I, being overly chatty, started talking to one of my peers about music-related topics. I told her Brian’s entire life story as I understood it at that time, having been obsessed with him for a little over a month at that point. In my haste though, I unintentionally managed to convince her that Brian had been murdered. Despite not meaning to, I did end up entertaining the possibility, both for her and myself, for at least the rest of the night.

Besides, at the time, I was drawing blanks in trying to find hard evidence that Brian wasn’t murdered. I had one (water-logged) book saying he wasn’t, and a (shitty) movie and another book saying he was.

And then, at some point, I regained my senses, and not because of how ridiculous Brian’s death was when depicted in the movie Stoned. (For fuck’s sake, there was a shooting star in the sky at the moment of his death and he showed up as a ghost in the last five minutes). It really had everything to do with how much I regretted believing Kurt Cobain had been murdered.

I once again gathered my resolve and decided to go back on the hunt for more clues.

The second part of Brian Jones’ decline undoubtedly involves his tempestuous relationship with German-Italian actress Anita Pallenberg. The two started dating after a Rolling Stones concert in Munich on 14 September 1965 and developed a close bond, thanks in part to Brian’s ability to speak German. She gave him the confidence he needed to go against Mick and Keith and helped him become the fashion icon he is still remembered as today.

The Who’s Pete Townshend later had this to say: “We hung out a lot from about 1964 to 1966. Part of the time he was seeing Anita Pallenberg. She was a stunning creature. I mean literally stunning. It was quite hard to maintain one’s gaze. One time in Paris I remember they took some drug and were so sexually stimulated they could hardly wait for me to leave the room before starting to shag. I felt Brian was living on a higher plane of decadence than anyone I would ever meet.”

However, their relationship was also highly abusive. They would verbally and physically abuse each other. In fact, one time, Brian broke his wrist while the two were on a trip in Tangier. Though Brian said it was the result of an accident, Christopher Gibbs and Bill Wyman have both stated that it resulted from an altercation with Anita (though sources vary about whether he broke his wrist on a metal window frame or her face).

Of their relationship, Keith had this to say, “I would hear the thumping some nights, and Brian would come out with a black eye. Brian was a woman beater. But the one woman in the world you did not want to try and beat up on was Anita Pallenberg. Every time they had a fight, Brian would come out bandaged and bruised.”

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I’d go so far as to say that the one good thing that came out of their relationship was the fact that Brian composed the soundtrack for her movie Mord Und Totschlag (A Degree of Murder).

As I’ve previously written about, when Mick and Keith were charged with drug possession in February 1967, lawyers told the Glimmer Triplets (Mick, Keith, and Brian) that since they were the most visible of the Stones, they should leave the country. So, Brian and Anita left Britain, heading for Morocco. However, Brian was already in no condition to travel, and he fell ill with pneumonia in Toulouse. He ended up spending a few days there (including his 25th birthday), while Keith and Anita met up in Tangier. There, she started an affair with Keith behind Brian’s back (Keith even confirmed in his autobiography that she made the first move).

When Brian finally arrived, he could tell that there was something going on between Keith and Anita. Keith was apparently shy around girls at this stage in his life but was more confident around Anita. Meanwhile, Anita was now a bit more open around Keith. Not much is certain about what happened next. What is known is that Brian paid for the services of two prostitutes and that there was an incident between him and Anita that night. Keith said that he threw food at her and humiliated her. Bill claimed that he beat her to the point where she was scared for her life. The less said about Stoned, the better.

Regardless, whatever Brian’s actions really were, it was over between him and Anita. Keith convinced her that if they didn’t get the hell out of there, Brian might try and kill her. The next day, Mick, Keith, and Anita fled Morocco, leaving Brian stranded for the next two days.

Brian’s father later blamed his son’s downward spiral on Anita breaking his heart. Others, such as Linda Lawrence, suggest that it was Mick and Keith’s betrayal that hurt him far more than Anita’s.

In either case, he never really forgave Keith. Beyond that, his drug and alcohol consumption only worsened.

This part of the Stones’ history is… tricky. Of course, I can’t condone Brian for his behaviour, but Keith, and especially Anita weren’t entirely in the right in this situation. Ultimately, Keith and Anita stayed together until 1980 and had three children (one of whom unfortunately died in infancy). Besides, I understand Keith’s actions the most out of everyone, given that he had a noble intent in getting Anita away from Brian’s increasingly toxic behaviour. Of course, it’s also important to note that Brian and Anita were 25 and 24 respectively at the time of this incident, and beyond that, they were young and impulsive, with unfortunately predictable results, given that they both could be volatile.

I may have an infatuation with Brian, but sometimes, something’s got to give.

Fifty-two years after that clusterfuck, I was continuing my research into the life of L. B. H. Jones as the fiftieth anniversary of his death came and went. A week or two later, I decided, despite some reservations, to get Bill Wyman’s book, Stone Alone.

Say what you will about Bill (I know at some point I’ll be commenting about the travesty that was his relationship with Mandy Smith), but I figured that if I wanted to know about the early Rolling Stones, he’d be one of my best sources. At the very least, he’s the only one who’s given Brian any sort of credit for his accomplishments instead of solely focusing on his failures like Keith tends to do. As I was flipping through random pages, I learned that Bill had written about one of Brian’s many illegitimate children. He called her “Carol,” for the sake of anonymity, and in it, he discussed the matter of her being diagnosed with temporal lobe epilepsy. She and Bill even applied some of her symptoms to things Bill observed when he was with Brian. In that one instant, what happened to Brian the night he drowned seemed to make perfect sense.

One of the things that had made putting the clues together so difficult from the very start was that Brian had punctate haemorrhages (tiny bleeds normally found in shaken baby syndrome) in his brain, which indicated that he’d been thrashing around quite a bit in his final moments.

Temporal lobe epilepsy can’t be cured, but it is manageable to a degree with medications. Brian, however, was never diagnosed, which is why we can’t be certain that he had epilepsy. There is no doubt in my mind that if Brian did have epilepsy, it would’ve gotten worse over time, given that Brian received no treatment. Carol speculated that Brian likely chalked up many of his symptoms to being hungover. Even then, he might not have realized that something was happening with his brain.

While I was typing up my theories though, I remembered that I’d found his toxicology report not long beforehand. As I read it, I found out that the drug that was in his system was likely Mandrax, which he had been prescribed in the days before he died. When I looked up Mandrax, I discovered that it was a brand name for Quaaludes. It can cause mental confusion, ataxia, seizures, and impaired decision-making, among other negative side-effects. The impaired judgment would explain why Brian decided it’d be a great idea to go swimming after he’d had sleeping pills and alcohol…

I still didn’t consider my work done, but this was the closest I’d come to having answers yet.

Speaking of Brian and drug abuse, the third key to understanding what happened to Brian, is to look at his two drug convictions.

However, I already talked about this (quite recently too), so I’ll try and keep this section brief.

As Mick and Keith were formally charged with drug possession on 10 May 1967, Brian found his home being raided by police. Although he’d been tipped off about their arrival, they still managed to find a handbag with cannabis in it, as well as methamphetamines and cocaine. It could be argued that the evidence was planted, but there is no way to prove this. In court, Brian confessed to doing cannabis but denied doing anything stronger (even though there’s pictures of him tripping on LSD early in 1967). The Stones’ new manager, Allen Klein, told him to stay away from the other Stones. However, this had the effect of further isolating Brian when he needed his bandmates the most.

On 30 October 1967, Brian was sentenced to three months in prison for cannabis possession and another nine months for allowing cannabis to be smoked in his home. He was additionally fined. After a rough night in prison, he was released the next day, awaiting appeal, though he was left shaken by that experience.

On 12 December, Brian went to appeals court, where his psychologist argued that Brian would become suicidal if he went to prison. Brian was sentenced to three years’ probation and ordered by the courts to seek professional help.

Lord knows, at this point, Brian might have been making an honest-to-God effort to get off drugs, but on 21 May 1968, police raided his house again. This time, they found cannabis hidden away in a ball of wool in the process. This usually inspires more impassioned arguments from Brian Jones fans that the evidence was planted. Brian himself said that he would swear until the day he died that he didn’t commit this second offense. Because he was still on probation at the time of this second arrest, he was facing a long jail sentence if found guilty.

On 26 September, Brian was found guilty of drug possession for the second time. However, the same judge who sentenced him to a year in prison the first time took pity on him. Instead, he fined Brian and gave him a stern warning to not show up in court again.

As you can see with the attached pictures though, the trials only helped speed up Brian’s downward spiral, and he shut down mentally.

Honestly, I think the trials are a large part of the reason Brian went downhill as fast as he did.

Meanwhile, back in the present day, it was September now, and I was starting to get into the swing of being a full-time college student. While I was procrastinating, as usual, I was messing about on Google and I happened upon Brian’s autopsy report. Fact about me: this was far from my first time reading either autopsy reports or death certificates, so I decided to give it a look. After all, I could understand quite a bit of the medical jargon, which I blame on the fact that I loved reading medical books in elementary school. Couldn’t hurt, right?

Was the report perfunctory? Yes. Were there mistakes? A few that stood out, such as Brian’s height being given as 5′9″ when he was 5′6″, and his age being listed as twenty-six as opposed to twenty-seven.

However, that report did reinforce my most recent conclusions that Brian had overdosed on sleeping pills, which was exacerbated by alcohol.

I knew now that Mandrax had once been prescribed to treat anxiety and insomnia, which Brian likely suffered from following the stress of two drug trials that both resulted in convictions. This was also a time before doctors realized the addictive properties of Quaaludes. For all I know, Brian might not have been keeping the best track of how many pills he was taking (which is also how Keith Moon died).

Going back to the long, sordid story of Brian’s collapse, the fourth major reason he found himself being kicked out of the band he founded was that he stopped contributing to the Stones’ music.

In the documentary Crossfire Hurricane, Mick stated, “You certainly didn’t know if he was going to turn up and what state he was going to be in and then, what he was going to be able to do in that state. What job could you give him? And then, one time, when we sat around, on the floor, we played, in a circle, playing “No Expectations”. And he picked the guitar and played a very pretty line on it which you can hear on the record. And that was the last thing I remember him doing that was Brian. Or, the Brian that could contribute something very pretty and sensitive and it made the record sound wonderful.”

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Some people have compared Brian to someone who wants to quit but doesn’t want a confrontation (Brian, believe it or not, wasn’t exactly keen on confrontation). Instead, he puts in the smallest effort he can, if that. In fact, Brian had wanted to leave in 1967, but Mick convinced him to stay.

Perhaps Brian’s fate might have been different if he’d gone with his gut in 1967.

Brian still contributed to much of Beggars Banquet. By 1969 though, it seems as if he’d completely given up on the band he’d founded. He stopped showing up to the studio, and if he did come, he’d be too intoxicated to play. In fact, there were points where Mick and Keith would turn off his amp, if not tell him to just go home. It got to the point where he (barely) appears on two songs on Let It Bleed: “Midnight Rambler” and “You’ve Got the Silver.”

Frequent Stones collaborator Jack Nitzsche later said “Brian came up to me, looking pretty shaky, and asked me what I thought he should do- he didn’t know where he fit[ted] in. I told him to just pick up a guitar and start playing. Then he walked over to Mick and asked, ‘What should I play?’ Mick told him, ‘You’re a member of the band, Brian, play whatever you want.’ So he played something, but Mick stopped him and said, ‘No, Brian, not that- that’s no good.’ So Brian asked him again what to play and Mick told him again to play whatever he wanted. So Brian played something else, but Mick cut him off again- ‘No, that’s no good either, Brian.’”

Marianne Faithfull, Mick’s girlfriend at the time, told a friend that Brian had sent Mick several letters over a period of several weeks while Mick was away. One that she’d opened said “Please let me come back in. I’ll play bongos, anything, but please let me come back in.”

…I need a moment to recollect myself.

Some fifty years later, I was still trying to make it through my first semester of college. I got myself a book about the 27 Club, figuring there might be something that would aid me in my research. There, I learned that, reportedly, Brian had not only been taking Mandrax, but also Piriton (hay fever medication), black bombers (which had been prescribed to him a mere ten days before he died), and Valium. That’s on top of an inhaler that would later be found to cause heart palpitations.

A couple of months later, I decided to look up the side-effects of every drug that Brian had ever taken, be it proven fact or allegation. That part of my research isn’t quite finished yet, but what I’ve found with the five medications that Brian was taking around the time of his death proved to be particularly shocking.

For the sake of brevity, I can’t list every side-effect. What I did notice is that some included side-effects of tachycardia/bradycardia, confusion, loss of coordination, impaired decision making, hyperactivity, seizures, and stomach problems. Some, like the uncoordinated behaviour, were noted by those who were there, such as Janet Lawson, who realized that Brian had taken sleeping pills that night, based on him muttering that he’d taken “sleepers”. Others could be a no-brainer, given that Brian had an enlarged heart and liver, in addition to suffering from bronchial troubles and pleurisy.

My immediate thought was, “Jesus, Brian, what the hell were you doing to yourself?”

And now for the final part of Brian’s story: the last twenty-five days of his life.

The Stones wanted to go on tour again, this being their first in two years. Due to Brian’s convictions, Stones management discovered that he probably wouldn’t be able to receive a work visa in the U.S. On 8 June 1969, Mick and Keith drove down to Cotchford Farm to tell Brian that he was fired. They brought Charlie along in case Brian decided to put up a fight. However, Brian agreed to back out gracefully, possibly knowing that he’d burned too many bridges at this point. The next day, Brian released a statement, which painted the decision to leave as being his own. He capped it off with “We had a friendly meeting and agreed that an amicable termination, temporary or permanent, was the only answer. The only solution was to go our separate ways, but we shall still remain friends. I love those fellows.”

As I’ve said though, how Brian truly felt about this turn of events will forever remain a mystery.

In the days before he died, it has been suggested by those close to him that Brian was planning on starting another band. Some believe he was going to bring in Jimi Hendrix and John Lennon. Jimi’s camp has since denied that Brian ever approached Jimi. There are also lingering questions regarding whether Brian had given up hard drugs or if he was still taking them. I doubt the latter, considering the well-documented stress of the drug trials.

The picture above was taken nine days before Brian died. Honestly, I do believe there was still some hope for Brian (I can even see it in his eyes). Whether he would’ve recovered or not and whether he’d still be alive today will forever remain up to conjecture, as that’s another possibility that followed Brian to the grave.

Wednesday, 2 July 1969 was host to hot, muggy weather that exacerbated Brian’s asthma. He spent his last day alive with at least three people: Anna Wohlin, his 22-year-old, Swedish girlfriend, Janet Lawson, a registered nurse who was dating Stones minder Tom Keylock, and Frank Thorogood, a 43-year-old builder who’d been doing work on Brian’s property at the time.

Details of Brian’s final day are sketchy, and there are some disagreements over what exactly the people involved did throughout the day. For example, there are disagreements about whether they watched television or not. Some would argue that this is clear evidence that Brian was murdered. I would posit that three of the four parties involved had been drinking. Even if everyone was sober, in a situation such as this, human memory can be extremely unreliable. For example, hundreds of witnesses were interviewed on the night Abraham Lincoln was assassinated, but no two accounts are alike. What we know had to be stitched together from witness accounts in which everyone claimed to have seen or heard something different.

What seems to be the most agreed-upon version of Brian’s death is that he decided to go swimming. Anna was reluctant and had to be persuaded to join in. Janet, the only sober person among the group, decided against swimming, most likely to keep an eye out for everyone else. Janet said in her witness report (recorded on the morning of July 3, 1969) that she strongly felt that Frank and Brian were in no condition to swim. She also recalled that Brian had great difficulty in standing on the diving board, being helped not-so-successfully by Frank. Even after that, his movements in the water seemed sluggish.

I don’t know, but if that were me, I would’ve called emergency services right there and then.

According to Janet, Anna was the first to return to the house, followed by Frank about ten minutes later. When Janet next went out to check on Brian sometime around midnight, she found him face-down in the deep end, and “immediately sensed the worst.”

She ran back to the house to get Frank and Anna, and with their help, got Brian out of the pool. She immediately began resuscitative efforts, despite knowing Brian was already dead. Anna later claimed that she felt Brian’s hand briefly grip hers. However, when paramedics arrived, they pronounced Brian dead in the early morning hours of 3 July 1969.

Brian’s official cause of death was given as drowning by immersion in fresh water, partly as a result of liver damage and the ingestion of drugs and alcohol. To be precise, 1,720 micro-gms of an “amphetamine-like substance” and the alcohol equivalent of three-and-a-half pints of beer were found in Brian’s system.

In short, it was death by misadventure.

As seems to be the case when a young celebrity dies under tragic circumstances, conspiracy theories have since risen regarding Brian’s death. The following list is taken from Paul Trynka’s book. For the sake of brevity (such as it is), some of these will be combined into one section.

1. The most predominant of these theories states that Frank Thorogood drowned Brian. Whether it was second-degree murder or manslaughter as a result of rough horseplay will usually vary between sources. Brian reportedly asked Janet to get his inhaler shortly before his death. The story then goes on to state that Frank drowned Brian and participated little in the efforts to save Brian’s life. It should be noted that Janet did state in her original testimony that she’d asked him to call emergency services.

The main reason people will give about why they believe that Brian was murdered is that Tom Keylock claimed to have heard Frank confess on his deathbed to the murder. However, Frank’s daughter, Jan Bell, has denied that such an exchange could have happened. There was never a point where Keylock had spent any time alone with her father. Furthermore, he’d only been admitted with a respiratory problem, and thus could not have known that he was on his deathbed. She also claimed that on the morning of Brian’s death, Frank saw an argument between Mick, Keith, and Brian over the name “Rolling Stones.” During the fight, Keith allegedly pulled a knife on Brian. If this did happen, it was likely earlier in the year.

In addition, Janet and Anna have since claimed that Brian was murdered. Janet later claimed that much of her original testimony was suggested to her by investigating officers and that Tom told her to hide the fact that she was his girlfriend. Anna claimed that she was spirited back to Sweden in the immediate aftermath of Brian’s death, where she allegedly miscarried Brian’s child. One of Anna’s friends later said that her belief that Brian had been murdered was a recent development. It’s also notable that neither witness came forward until after Frank died. Many of Anna’s recollections about Brian, such as him being focused on music are also contradicted by others who were close to Brian at the time.

Keith later said, “I knew Frank Thorogood, who made a ‘deathbed confession’ that he’d killed Brian Jones by drowning him in the swimming pool, where Brian’s body was found some minutes after other people had seen him alive. But I’m always wary of deathbed confessions because the only person there is the person he’s supposed to have said it to, some uncle, daughter, or whatever. ‘On his deathbed he said he killed Brian.’ Whether he did or not I don’t know. Brian had bad asthma and he was taking Quaaludes and Tuinals, which are not the best things to dive under water on. Very easy to choke on that stuff. He was heavily sedated. He had a high tolerance for drugs, I’ll give him that. But weigh that against the coroner’s report, which showed that he was suffering from pleurisy, an enlarged heart, and a diseased liver. Still, I can imagine the scenario of Brian being so obnoxious to Thorogood and the building crew he had working on Brian’s house that they were just pissing around with him. He went under and didn’t come up. But when somebody says, ‘I did Brian,’ at the very most I’d put it down to manslaughter. All right, you may have pushed him under, but you weren’t there to murder him. He pissed off the builders, whining son of a bitch. It wouldn’t have mattered if the builders were there or not, he was at that point in his life when there wasn’t any.”

(You’re telling me he can apologize for telling Mick to get a vasectomy, but not for even a fraction of the shit he’s said about Brian?)

In 2005, this version of events was turned into the appalling movie Stoned, which featured Tom Keylock as an adviser and was based on claims made by Janet Lawson and Anna Wohlin. The director, Stephen Wooley, claimed to have researched the material for this story over a period of ten years. Really, it feels less like ten years of research, and more like one week. From what I could tell, it did seem that Brian’s death was manslaughter, but honestly, it was too confusing. Frank seemed damn determined to drown Brian in that moment. The movie (quite literally) drowned on arrival.

2. In 1983, Nicholas Fitzgerald wrote Brian Jones: The Inside Story of a Rolling Stone. In it, he claimed to have been a close friend of Brian Jones (his cousin, Tara Browne, actually was a close friend of Brian’s). Not only that, but he claimed to have seen Brian’s “murder.” He claimed that he and 19-year-old Richard Cadbury (who passed away before the story came out) visited Brian at Cotchford Farm the day he died. Allegedly, Brian told Fitzgerald all about his plans to start up a supergroup with John Lennon and Jimi Hendrix, saying “Don’t say anything… it could be dangerous!”

(As keen as I am about the idea of John Lennon, Jimi Hendrix, and Brian Jones being in the same band, you can probably tell that I think this story is a load of bullshit.)

After Fitzgerald and his friend visited a pub, they returned to Cotchford Farm at about 11:15 PM, leaving their car some distance from the house. (Keep in mind, the coroner said that Brian died somewhere between 11:30 PM and 12:00 AM). There, he and his friend saw three men holding Brian under the water, whilst two other people stood by. Suddenly, a man, likely Keylock, jumped out of the bushes and told Fitzgerald to scram, lest he be next.

He refused to give a formal statement to the police. What I don’t think the dumb fuck was counting on was that police would investigate his ass, considering that withholding information could’ve resulted in him being charged with being an accessory to murder after the fact. The police determined that the evidence Fitzgerald gave was “bizarre, full of unverifiable claims that, he, too, had escaped murder attempts, that Cadbury might have been involved with the murderers, and that Cadbury, too, had died ‘in mysterious circumstances”. Detective Chief Superintendent J. F. Reece summarized it best when he said that Fitzgerald was a “Walter Mitty type person” and that he’d come up with the allegations to promote his book. In fact, the book itself had even more ludicrous allegations, such as how Tom Keylock had overseen the whole thing. It got to the point where Eddie Kramer called the story “silly.” John Lennon, meanwhile, believed that Brian was another victim of the drugs scene, and even dreaded him coming on the phone (another reason I don’t believe the supergroup was in the cards for Brian’s future, regardless). Also, Fitzgerald mostly relied on the testimony of those who had already passed away, such as Suki Potier, one of Brian’s girlfriends, who died in a car crash along with her husband in 1981. One of the few living witnesses Fitzgerald claimed to have run into, James Phelge, denied ever having met him.

Also, pro-tip, if you’re going to claim to have been a close friend of someone you’re claiming was murdered, don’t sell your story to the tabloid that got him busted for drug possession. Just saying.

3. In 1990, A. E. Hotchner published Blown Away: The Rolling Stones and the Death of the Sixties. In it, he claimed that Brian’s childhood friend, Dick Hattrell, and a random Cockney named "Marty” had knowledge that Brian was murdered. He claimed that Rich (sounds better to me than Dick) visited Brian shortly before he died and became worried about him. Later, he bumped into someone who claimed to have witnessed Brian’s murder. Marty claimed to have witnessed the murder, claiming that two other women were there, including Linda Lawrence (mother of one of Brian’s sons) who was spirited out of the country following Brian’s death.

In reality, she last saw Brian in 1968.

Similarly, Hattrell has since stated that the story was nonsense; he never visited Brian at Cotchford, and he never said Brian was murdered. Marty has since kept his mouth shut.

Really, it just doesn’t hold up when closely scrutinized.

4. David Gibson claimed to the Brighton Evening Argus that, while he was fitting carpets at Brian’s home, Brian and Anna were absent throughout the better part of the day. When they returned later in the evening, Brian begged Gibson not to leave. Gibson, meanwhile, believed Brian had been murdered and that Tom Keylock was responsible. Some, like Sam Cutler, claim that Gibson saw Princess Margaret at Cotchford Farm, which has led to speculation that Brian was killed to protect her reputation. Gibson never went to the police, and probably believed that he’d been subject to threats and murder attempts. However, aside from Brian’s paranoia and belief that someone was out to get him, Gibson’s story doesn’t line up with many of the other conspiracy theories.

5. Geoffrey Giuliano in his 1994 book Paint It Black claimed that a man named “Joe” said that he’d held Brian’s head under the water for shits and giggles (not something one would normally do for shits and giggles). The thing is though, Giuliano’s book largely recycled content from previous books on the subject, and beyond that, made elementary mistakes, such as claiming that Frank had fled the scene, when in reality, he was there when police officer Albert Evans arrived at about 12:10 AM. It was later found that the tape he’d sourced some of this information from was a fake, made for American radio programmes in New York.

6. Given that Tom Keylock was a bit of a dishonest/disliked character in life, it should come as no surprise that some of the theories focus on him too. In 2009, Sam Cutler claimed that after Brian’s death, Allen Klein (himself a sleazeball) hired some PI’s to investigate Brian’s death and that they’d discovered that Tom was responsible. While Tom did try to pin the blame on Frank and told Janet to conceal her relationship with him, and it is known that he apparently stole some of Brian’s belongings after he died, that does not make one a murderer. It’ll certainly make him a slimeball, but that doesn’t mean he’s a murderer. Meanwhile, in 2013, Cutler claimed confusion as to whether the Klein report even existed. I think at this point, it’s safe to call it a hoax.

In addition, while it is more likely that Tom would have been the murderer instead of Frank, he does have a rather rock-solid alibi in that he was at Olympic Studios and was the one who received the call that Brian had died. Really, any theories that try to say he masterminded a huge plot to have Brian killed and make it appear as an accident tend to raise more questions than it answers.

Let’s all make no mistake though, the police did jump to conclusions rather quickly, there are several obvious mistakes in the autopsy findings, and not to mention, police failed to control the area, which is likely how Tom was able to steal Brian’s belongings and possibly have some destroyed.

Meanwhile, I myself believe that Brian’s death was accidental. Likely, it was the result of a cocktail of prescription medications, alcohol consumption, maybe a side-effect or two resulting from that, and possibly even heart failure or liver disease. Perhaps Brian fainted (which, I honestly hope for, given how painful it is to drown), and with no one around to notice his plight, he quietly slipped away.

I know there’s no way to prove this, given that the police don’t have a good reason to dig up Brian’s bones and it’s probably far too late for a second toxicology report, but given the available evidence I’ve been able to find, I believe this is the most likely version of events.

Truly, a sad ending for a man, who didn’t even have a chance to get back on his feet before fate (and a lifetime of drug/alcohol abuse) intervened.

Whenever I read about Brian’s life story, I always find myself interested by the mistakes, intrigue, and betrayal that seemed to plague Brian’s life from the outset. There are a multitude of what-ifs that honestly make this tale haunting, such as what might’ve happened had Mick and Keith not bullied Brian so severely. There’s also what might have happened if both the Stones and the authorities had better understood the effects of drug use and had the resources and compassion to better deal with Brian’s situation. Most hauntingly, there’s the question of what might’ve happened had someone been near Brian in his final moments and had the opportunity to save him.

I think the biggest reason I keep coming back to his story is that his life as a whole was very conflicting. It honestly inspires both condemnation and sympathy/pity, even in me.

Even if Mick and Keith would rather forget that Brian was ever a part of their band, it is my honest belief that people will continue to discover Brian Jones, whether it be through the 27 Club or through some other means, and I hope that they take the time to learn his story.

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Sources/Further Reading: https://www.drugs.com/illicit/quaaludes.html https://asthma.net/living/swimming-pools-triggers/ https://www.drugs.com/sfx/ergotamine-side-effects.html https://www.drugs.com/sfx/valium-side-effects.html https://www.drugs.com/sfx/amphetamine-side-effects.html https://www.drugs.com/sfx/chlorpheniramine-side-effects.html Stone Alone by Bill Wyman Brian Jones: The Making of the Rolling Stones by Paul Trynka Brian Jones: The Untold Life and Mysterious Death of a Rock Legend by Laura Jackson https://clearcomfort.com/why-asthma-allergy-sufferers-should-avoid-chlorine-pools/ http://timeisonourside.com/chron1967.html http://timeisonourside.com/chron1969.html http://www.timeisonourside.com/chron1963.html http://www.timeisonourside.com/chron1962.html https://www.inflationtool.com/british-pound/1963-to-present-value?amount=5 https://people.com/music/anita-pallenberg-rolling-stones-keith-richards-brian-jones-love-triangle/ https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-lists/the-27-club-a-brief-history-17853/ https://ultimateclassicrock.com/brian-jones-found-dead/ https://www.denofgeek.com/us/culture/music/281978/the-rolling-stones-and-the-mystery-of-brian-jones-death https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/brian-jones-sympathy-for-the-devil-182761/ https://www.mojo4music.com/articles/15989/brian-jones-it-was-murder https://ultimateclassicrock.com/brian-jones-murdered/ https://www.udiscovermusic.com/stories/just-why-was-brian-jones-so-important-to-the-rolling-stones/ https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/obituary-brian-jones-189861/ https://www.oxfordtreatment.com/prescription-drug-abuse/tuinal/

#brian jones #the rolling stones #mick jagger #keith richards #charlie watts #bill wyman #ian stewart #this got long #but i felt i should explain all of this in one go #rock and roll #cw: death #cw: drugs #cw: domestic abuse #cw: drowning #man brian's life was a bit of a clusterfuck

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boogiewrites · 6 years ago

Text

Choking On Sapphires 85

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Breakdown

Summary: Genevieve’s behavior comes to a head and Alfie is forced to act as the harsh voice of reason. He's left to act in his personal life as he does in his business where he does the things no one else wants or is willing to. But he'd do anything for his Genny. Song is Breakdown by Tom Petty.

Warnings/Tags: Language. References to assault and violence. PTSD. Angst. Drug Abuse. Trauma. Self Hatred. Fighting, verbal and physical.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

There had been a shift in the energy of the house after Claire and Genevieve’s altercation. Genevieve was trying to behave but finding it nearly impossible. The pull of the promise of relief from her medicine was too seductive to deny for long. Each dose was reacted to like some rare delicacy, with closed eyes and moans. She couldn’t control herself. Her mind was crowded with so much the more time passed. More memories and complicated waves of emotions she didn’t understand, left her feeling overpowered no matter what she did.

She was trying and it could be seen by everyone, but she would drop everything for her medicine and it was obvious there was still dependence there no matter how little they gave her. A nervous tick when it got close to the time for it, nose twitching and eyes fluttering, trying to stay still and waiting for someone to mention it because she knew she couldn’t first. Then she’d be given that look again, and she hated the humiliation that came with it.

She tries to fill the shame, the hurt and the anger with something. She studies, but that leads to headaches and a sore throat. She paints and the things that come out are dark and twisted and make those around her uncomfortable and worry about her. She dresses up, trying to see herself how she was, but it all felt like a sham. There was no confidence where it once lived. She eats and bakes, finding a productive distraction and gaining a slight bit of weight from where she’d lost it. But her appetite was still lackluster, the medicine saw to that. She wasn’t ready to try to add her former most favorite vice, sex, to the list but at least she could fathom the idea of it without becoming physically ill. Maybe things were getting better. But the voice in her head told her no as soon as the thought passed. That she was still very much broken and a failure, feeling slow in both mind and body still it was hard for her to be positive about anything. The depression was starting to set in.

With a memory that left something to be desired still, she’s grown the tendency to be forgetful. Clumsy and forgetful was preferred to hallucinating and passed out to everyone but her. The constant state of being aware of controlling herself left her exhausted most days and always on edge. She has the occasional tantrum, it couldn’t be helped, and with the lack of medicine given to help her calm down, it only made her angrier and fueled the fire of her fits. They were less often now, but more intense when they did happen. Big sweeping mood swings that took her wherever they wanted and she was was left to be used by her whims, whether the actions she took were something she wanted to do or not. They left her a crying mess. She only wanted to feel normal again. She didn’t know who this woman was that she’d become. She hates the anger she felt about her cravings for the medicine. She hates the flux of the ups and downs from it, but in her desperate moments, it’s the only thing that gives her some stability. She didn’t want to need it the way she did, another layer of anger born from shame. She felt weak and that was something she didn’t have much experience with.

On an afternoon spent dressing herself up for no reason, just passing time and listening to music to keep herself in good spirits she’s met with an undiagnosed stressor that had slipped between the cracks. A gossip hound by the name of Dorothy who did not have Genevieve’s best interests at heart. She was paid for information, not to tell that she was doing better. A saboteur sent in by one of the posh Jewish elite who did not approve of the Alfie and Gen’s underground lifestyle. Striking while the iron was hot and they were both at the most vulnerable they’ve ever been, Dorothy was there to make sure things didn’t run too smoothly for too long. Coming from the former biggest gossip in all of London’s employ, she knew how to stir a pot. And poor Gen, trusting those around her, as she had no other choice but to in her condition, never saw it coming.

“The horn section is lovely isn’t it?” Dorothy states, dusting around the gramophone.

The use of the word makes Gen’s nose twitch just as the maid knew it would. “Yes it is.” she answers with fluttering eyes and reaching for her large powder puff to fan herself with.

“I say, you’re looking rather glowing today, Miss. Like an inner light is coming out. I’m sure Mr. Solomons loves that you’re putting forth the effort in your appearance, hmm?” she makes casual sounding backhanded compliments as she moves around the room.

She sees Gen’s body language tighten and she keeps smiling as she works.

“You’ve put on some weight too I see. Filling out nicely. Looking healthy. All good things.” she chirps. “One would think there could be a little Solomons on the way with how you’re looking.” she gives an innocent scrunch of her nose and a kind smile. “Absolutely radiant.” she ends with a flourish. “And wouldn’t a baby be lovely? An excuse for all those sweets you’ve been making!” she lets out a light-hearted laugh. “Afterall, not many men would’ve stayed around through all this. You’re so very lucky to have Mr. Solomons. What a patient man.” she speaks softly.

“Yes. I am.” she mumbles, face turning downward now.

“Well, I’m finished in here. Anything else you need miss?” she asks putting a hand to Gen’s shoulder.

“No. Thank you.” she replies softly, eyes not meeting the maids, staring at her reflection in the vanity mirror.

“I don't care what anyone else says, I think you’re progressing just fine.” she gives a supportive nod. “Especially for what you’ve been through. My goodness. What a tragedy to befall such a woman who had such strengths. Surely a test. One you’re still working on mastering. We’re all waiting and watching...rooting for you Miss Durand. Have a good afternoon.” she says trotting out of the room, knowing the seeds were planted to make an eventful evening.

Every line had felt like a slap to the face for Gen. Every worry she had, some she hadn’t yet, all brought back out to the surface in a single conversation. If Gen had been herself she would’ve been impressed with the woman’s skill. Then she would have killed her of course for saying such things, but in this emotional state, she only felt sorry for herself. She looked at herself in the mirror. Were her breasts bigger? Was she getting too fat? Everyone was waiting for her to screw up again, she knew it. Apparently people were saying she wasn’t healing fast enough, but of course, they were. She wasn’t. And poor Alfie...he had been on the sidelines, merely a bystander in all this. It truly was a miracle he was still around. At this point he would be better off without her she thinks. She was only making his life harder.

Her eyes trail down to her stomach and she feels it flip with nausea. She had asked the doctor every time they were alone if her not bleeding was normal. There were no signs of pregnancy he said and the body can react wildly after trauma. That there was nothing he saw to worry about. But it didn’t stop the panic rising in her chest and bubbling up and out her throat in a choked sob. What if she was? What if a constant reminder of her weakness and this awful period of time we’re sitting right there. Taking root. It was her greatest fear and Dorothy had played into it seamlessly. All she had wanted before was to be pregnant. A happy accident, despite her timing the inward emissions of Alfie in her favor. Her mind had been all babies and happy thoughts attached and now it was of shame and upset. By far the biggest trigger of them all. She thinks of the children she’s seen. Wondering if they were a sign. Her dreams came true on occasion, so why not hallucinations?

Her hands clutch at the dress she wears, feeling sick rise in her throat. She gets intrusive thoughts of the time held captive again. Blood. So much blood. These were new, these weren’t her normal violent flashbacks, her eyes well up with tears and she starts to sob, feeling it all over again. Why was there so much blood she wondered? She feels it as if it’s real. Blood thick and caked on her skin, from her temples to her thighs, the sticky and awful feeling, the constant reminder of how battered she was. The constant worry there was too much of it, that was something was wrong with her. That panic takes hold of her and she starts wheezing, not catching her breath, holding her chest and gasping. She raises, wild-eyed and tries to make it to the bed to lie down, count like the doctor told her. But it was no use. This was too strong and she was too weak she thought. She knew what she needed.

She races in her tiny heels to the back innards of teh house to Aggie’s room. She’s in such a state she doesn’t hear Alfie calling for her as he sees her making a mad dash. Of course, his instinct is something is terribly wrong. And in a way it was, so he follows suit. He finds her on her knees with one of her hairpins in Aggie’s locked door.

His worry is replaced with hot anger, having to watch Gen give in and relapse in front of his eyes. “Gen!” he booms out and she doesn’t even notice. She barrels through the door and rummages loudly through Aggie’s things, finding the bottle of Morphine and finding it severely lacking in its contents.

She whimpers and whines, shaking it over her gaping mouth as she cries, mascara running down her face. She keeps wheezing, now at a total loss for how to handle herself.

Alfie barges in like a bull, one big swipe knocks the bottle out of her hands and it breaks against the wall. Her eyes turn large and terrified to him, but he doesn’t feel sympathy in the moment, only disappointment and anger. “Fuck’s sake Genevieve! Get ahold of yourself!” he says loudly as she cries, looking back over to where the bottle had broken.

“I can’t! I need it! I need it to STOP!” she wails loudly her head shaking back and forth dramatically.

“Gen!” he shouts again and she doesn’t stop, hands in her hair and groaning.

She was so desperate to make the fear and thoughts stop. But she just saw him there, silhouetted by that shifting yellow light over her. “I’m too weak. I can’t. I’m pathetic. It won't stop.” she pants, her face contorted into an ugly mash of pain and confusion.

“Get ahold of yourself woman!” he shouts, grabbing her tightly by the arms, making her stop hurting herself.

The rough handling of her snaps her from her self pity and kicks in her fight response. Her head snaps up, eyes dilated and black, intense as they glared into his own. “Don’t touch me!” she screams and struggles.

“I can’t fuckin’ trust you can I? Ya gonna fuckin’ hurt yaself!” he growls back as they wrestle back and forth. She was a lot stronger in the moment that he thought she could be in her condition.

“Stop it!” she fights back, kicking at him as he holds her up from falling and hurting herself, hitting something on the way down to the ground.

“No!” he yells angrily. “Look at you! Gen! Fuckin’ ‘ell girl CALM DOWN!” he roars, having to haul her back onto her feet.

She stops struggling and stands, face now full of betrayal as she shakes with the underlying anger.

“You need to get a grip on yaself Genny! Look at you! Why are you actin’ like this? Like a fuckin’ fiend! Are we going to have to lock you up next? Can you not be trusted anymore?” he asks with a low brow and harsh delivery.

“Let me go.” she demands, struggling against him mildly, her eyes looking more her old self in their fury.

“Fuckin’...NO! Why would I? Look at how you’re actin’! What is wrong with you?” he groans out loudly as her jaw clenches and she slaps him across the face, resulting in him very calmly letting her go and clenching his hands into fists at his sides. His nostrils flared and his eyes remained shut. He wasn’t going to hit her back. He wasn’t that sort of man. But she was bringing out the worst in him. They were bringing out the worst in each other.

“Don’t fucking touch me like that!” she shrieks, adjusting her dress. “I have a reason for acting this way! What about YOU?” she responds, shoving him out of the way and running off down the hall.

With her dress pulled high, she needed to escape. She needed out and away. She heads straight for the door, Joseph tottering after her as the staff had gathered cautiously to see what was happening.

“We’re going to London Joseph.” she announces with wild eyes and confidence to her face she hadn’t felt and no one had seen in some time.

“Miss I don’t think-”

“You are going to drive me to London or I will fucking DO IT MYSELF!” she screams as he hunches down and does as he’s told. What other choice did he have? “I’m not staying here. I can’t. I need to get out of my own head. I can’t stay. I can’t do it.” she mutters to herself, head shaking back and forth as they drive off as were her orders.

“Why are you just standing there! Go after her!” Aggie shouts in Alfie’s face, him standing where Gen had left him as he rubbed his temples.

“Send some of my boys after her. Watch her. We know what she’s fuckin’ doin’.” he shakes his head, his voice quiet and even.

“How are you so bloody calm?”

“Aggie... sweetie... calm is the last thing I am right now.” his voice was a deep hiss, his eyes almost hidden behind low brows. “But I...in my line of work have MUCH practice in withholding my true emotions. And I am using it to its full extent right now.” his jaw is tight, speaking through clenched teeth as he cracks his knuckles.

“But she’s ran away?”

“No. She’s going to get well pissed. That’s what she’s doin’. There wasn't enough of this fuckin’ JUNK to ease her and now she’s reverting to her immature behavior.”

“She’s not well Alfie, you need to remember.”

“IT’S ALL I FUCKIN THINK ABOUT YEAH?” he shouts in anger before composing himself and Aggie takes a step back. “I want to be so fuckin’ furious at her for this. I know I should be sympathetic. I know she’s not herself. But I am so close to just fucking off right now. And I know I don’t want to do that. And it’s all making me MORE angry because I can’t fuckin' control it. I control things Aggie, that’s what I fuckin’ DO. And I can’t her, right?”

“Neither can she. Remember that.”

“Oh, I do. And it just makes it worse.” he throws his arms up in the air. “I’ll go get her. Fuckin’... AGAIN.” he sighs and shakes his head. “I was prepared, yeah? To deal with the healing. I can grasp that. I can respect it. But this…” he motions to the broken bottle on the floor. “I’m having a bloody hard time respecting this.” he says with a groan. “This is just... weakness. This isn’t her. She’s not Gen when she’s on this shit.” he tells, walking around the bed and crunching the glass under his work boots. “There’s no more of this. Fuck that!” he says pointing to the same spot. “I’m done wif it. I ‘on’t care if the doctor says it’s helpin’, it’s fuckin’ not, right? Don’t get no more. Those are orders. You hear me? I know you’re soft Aggie but it’s time for some tough love for the old girl. Don’t ya think?” he asks, leaning over the small woman as she scrunches her face in a scowl. “This soft fuckin’ treatment innit doin’ a fuckin’ thing. She HATED bein’ coddled before. Remember? Do any of us ever remember fuckin’ BEFORE now?” he sighs and groans, rubbing his face.

“Yes sir.” she says coldly.

“Oh don’t give me that.” he responds with an aggressive nod. “Do you not think it’s time to reign her in?”

“I do. But I don’t like it.”

“Well, I ‘on’t fuckin’ LIKE it either! You think I want to be cruel to her? The woman I’ve promised to care for? To respect and protect?”

“It’s hard to tell with you lately.”

“Well, I fuckin’ don’t. But with someone like her…” he points in the direction Gen fled. “In a situation like this, perhaps sympathy isn’t what is needed. She needs a swift kick to the arse to make her see how she’s actin’. And I’m the only one what will tell her what she don’t wanna hear.”

“I hope you’re right. I’ll call the doctor and tell him no more medicine. In case she tries to get it herself.”

“Good girl.” he says giving her a strong pat the back and sauntering down the hall with hard steps that make his shoulder sway even more than usual.

-----

Genevieve had done exactly as Alfie knew she would. His men were out on alert for her in the city and they found her quickly. Out getting pissed at some east end shit hole where she didn’t have to pay for a thing.

“Alright. She’s had enough.” Alfie instructs, putting his watch back into his coat pocket. “Bring her out.” he orders with a flick of his wrist. “Be gentle but...make her. Try to appeal to her vanity. That usually works.” he states with a stern point of his finger to the lads given the job.

Gen, of course, did not want to leave. She didn’t want to see Alfie or hear about him or any man really. She wanted to be lost in the sounds and movements and be young and wild and free again. But the reality that she could no longer be any of those things, truly, would always come knocking. And in this instance, it was a few of the big boys of Alfie’s she knew. The muscle.

“Miss it’s time to go.” one says in her ear.

“No.” she declares defiantly. Like a child, really.

“Miss I must insist. We’re here on Mr. Solomons orders.”

“Fuck his orders.” she sass’s back and turns away and he takes her by the arm.

“We can take you out of here kicking and screaming but what would the gossip sound like if word were to get around, eh? So why don’t you walk out with us, and no one has to be any wiser as to what’s happening.”

She gives him a look that would normally make him worry, as he had heard about the things she’d done. “Don’t fuckin' touch me.” she growls, jerking out his grip. “Where is the bastard?” she spits out as she begins walking towards the door.

He waits, and it does take longer than expected. But there she came, mad as a wet cat, stomping, and hissing just the same towards his vehicle. She was uneasy on her feet, not stumbling but a drunken sway that told him he’d stopped her at just the right time.

He sits in silence, his hat on, cane in hand and posture straight as he makes her sit with her thoughts as they travel down the road. He eventually turns towards her and she’s pouting out the window.

“Gen, look at me.” he orders.

She, of course, doesn’t even acknowledge him. Sitting with her arms crossed and body language very clear she wanted nothing to do with him.

“Genevieve…” he warns. “Can you even hear me? Ya fuckin’ pissed innit ya?” he scoffs and waits.

She lets out a defiant huff through her nose.

“Fuckin’ look at me, woman.” he moves and takes her by the chin. He met with glossy and unfocused eyes and pouting lips. “Look at you…” he shames her and her lip quivers. “Fuckin’ mess.” he tsks and shakes his head. “Can you even respond to me ya little drunkard?” she speaks nothing and tries to move out of his grasp but he’s holding onto her too tightly. “Fuck’s sake Genny.” he presses his lips and sighs.

“I can.” she snaps back. “But what’s the fucking point?” she snarls.

“Because I asked you a fucking question dinnit I? Because you should explain this childish behavior. You’re not a fucking child. You’re not even that young, you’re a grown woman. You know better.” he speaks intensely but with a smooth delivery that makes her wants to slap him again. He was being too condescending. So patronizing it made her sick.

“Clearly I don’t.” she ejects back with a rough turn of her head that knocks her chin out of his grasp. He returns it slowly to the top of his cane.

“You’re some fuckin' junkie now and you’re just gonna give up? One bad thing happens and you just roll over and let your jellied brain just fuck you, eh?” he delivers harshly, knowing the words would hurt her, but it was his role to put the wild thing in her place before, and it only made sense he’d be the one now. He could handle her hating him. More people hated him than liked him, it wasn’t a bother to him. He knew that if she’d see a true relfection of herself, that she’d thank him one day for the honesty.

“One thing?” she shouts. “One fucking thing?” her voice cracks with emotion as she begins speaking with her hands. “My life has been nothing but bad things Alfie!” her voice was exhausted. ”One after another. Every fucking day!” she turns on her knees and screams at him. “I was there for DAYS, the things they did to me?! And you want to say it was ONE thing?” her French accent comes out, her finger pointing in his face as she let go of all that was building up inside her that the Morphine wouldn’t let her feel or communicate. “When you know how I was raised? What my father and his friends did to me? The kind’ve men I’ve had to get close to? The shit I’ve had to eat because of being a woman. ONE THING?” she screams in his face.

“And what good is complainin' and throwin’ a tantrum like a fuckin' little girl gonna do, eh?” he keeps his calm, and it makes her angrier. He should be as upset as her she thought. It wasn’t fair he got to be unbothered and she was left a mess.

“Fuck you Alfie!” she barks, sitting back and crossing her arms, looking out the window.

“I’d rather hear that then you feeling sorry for yourself.” he snarks with a raised brow. He was proud of her, actually. This was the most she’d talked about what had happened. She needed to feel these feelings, get them all out and that medicine had stopped it, stunted her and left her in an emotional purgatory.

“We can’t all have steel traps up here can we?” she replies, tapping her temple “We can’t all be fuckin’...made of stone and just push forward no matter what happens. Some of us are SOFT and FEEL things.” she answers with a quieter voice, but that did not mean she was less angry.

“If you think I don’t feel things you’ve not been payin’ attention.” his voice even, and lips pursed.

“So your reaction to my problem is to shake me and shout at me? To give me barked orders like a dog?” she questions incredulously.

“You haven’t listened to anythin' else.” he gives her a side-eyed glance and he can feel the heat radiating off her towards him.

“What else have you tried lately Alfie? Huh? I don’t even remember when I first came home, and I don’t remember you being soft with me once as of late. You’ve just given me that… fuckin’... look.”

“A look?” he answers a mild chortle.

“Yes like that! Like a disappointed father. Like you don’t even want me anymore. I’m just some burden to you.”

“Genny this behavior is a burden for a man like me.” he speaks plainly and it cuts her like a knife.

“Then why don’t you just fucking leave? If you hate me so much?” her eyes welling up with tears now, the anger shifting into hurt.

“I don’t hate you, but you’re actin' like a daft cu-.” he sighs. “I don’t hate you. If I did I wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t have been dealing with the things I have for you... from you.” he answers with a curt tone, his hand laying out his point as he spoke.

“Do you think what a woman like me needs right now is cold indifference?” her head shakes back and forth, in disbelief at how he was speaking to her.

“I don’t know what the fuck you need any more to be honest. This whole thing has turned you into someone I don’t know.” his eyes were more honest now, she recognized it.

“I could say the same.” she glares back, hiding the swell of emotions inside her. She didn’t want to break down again. She didn’t want him to have the satisfaction. And that was exactly what he had wanted out of her. He didn’t care if she had to use him and spite for him to gain the want to control herself. He just wanted her to control herself.

She sulks the whole way home, the anger fading, turning to sadness with the tiredness that overtook her body. He followed her into the bed room, as if nothing was wrong.

“Why are you staying around me?” she snaps as he sees the softness in her face.

“Because I have to, love.” he replies as he takes off his coat. He knew another flare was incoming.

“Why are you being so mean?” her hard exterior breaks and tears start to fall.

“You want to know? Truly? Can you handle it Genevieve?” he asks with a mean face that shows so sympathy for her tears.

She nods, “Yes. I can.” she says defiantly through tears.

He takes a deep breath and gives her the truth. “Because I just want my Genny back.” he admits with a shake of his head. The brief softness in his eyes making a sob bubble up in her throat. “I don’t know who this drugged up woman is that runs off in the middle of the night.” his voice lacked bite, but still felt harsh as it came out. “You did it once, and I was sympathetic, your sister passin’ ‘n all. But not with this. Not after all this time.” his face hardens, straightening his posture and looking her up and down, judging her. “You’re smarter than this Gen.” he says with exasperation. “You aren’t who I agreed to be with right now. And I just fuckin’ want some relief, I just want my Genny back, love, that’s all.” his brow was hard, his words even more so as they hit her in the chest like a kick.

“I am your Genny.” she sobs, voice so small. Her heart was broken, her faults laid out plainly for her to see. She could no longer ignore them. “I am. I’m just... I’m…” she breaks down and begins to cry. The fog she’d been in gone, the cold reality of her behavior hitting her now. Feeling every little thing, most importantly shame for the right reasons for the first time since the incident.

“But you’re not though are ya?” he leans towards her, his face still cold to her. “You’re not her right now, sweetie. Cause my Genny? She wouldn’t do any of 'is.” he motions to her, half bent and sobbing into her hands as he begins to walk away to leave her to her catharsis.

“I am your Genny!” she shouts and her voice breaks and cries, tears and snot and the whole mess, months of backed up and delayed revelations coming at her, feeling alone and ashamed. She watches him leave the bedroom as she calls out, not seeing the hurt on his own face for putting her through this. But he knew it had to be done, it was his role to be the one to do the things no one else wanted or could.

He sleeps in his old room that night, giving her time to wail it all out. And she did. She cried herself sick. But she didn’t drink, she didn’t ask for medicine, she didn’t ask for anything. She sat in front of the fire, thinking about the past few months and let out everything in wails and sobs. A cleansing she’d desperately needed.

——-

The next morning Alfie's conscience is weighing heavy. It didn’t happen often and he hated the feel of it. But he’d slept like shit and heard her crying all night and had to deal with the dirty looks from Aggie and Claire as he rose from the spare room. He wanders into the kitchen, asking for Genevieve’s favorite tea and sweets. It isn’t questioned and he shuffles his way to her room with the serving tray balanced in his hands. House shoes scuffing the stone floors while his pajamas slicked together from the soft fabric Gen insisted on them being.

She’s asleep in the floor, laid out on pillows and blankets in front of a dying fire. Her hair was covering her face and most of her body, a silk nightgown just visible underneath the veil. He stokes the fire and feeds it, then standing over her and clearing his throat, causing her to stir.

She whines and rubs her face, pushing her hair out of the way of seeing before focusing her eyes on his shoes.

“Oh.” She says sleepily, “It’s you.” She lets him know she wasn’t too keen on seeing him.

“I brought ya your tea and biscuits.” He offers in a friendly voice. Much more polite than anything they exchanged the night before.

“Thanks.” She grumbles, pulling herself off the floor and onto the couch.

“Would you like me to make your tea? Fetch you a robe?” He inquires.

“No.” She answers quickly, moving to prepare her tea herself. “I don’t want to be fucking coddled.” She forced out through a smart tongue.

He doesn’t find himself annoyed at her behavior. Even though that was clearly the case for her towards him. She was a crumpled, sickly looking mess but she was indeed herself. And that’s all he’d wanted. He’d missed that spark, that justified emotion, even anger towards him. He knew she was feeling more herself with her demand and he felt a small glimmer of hope.

“How are you feeling this mornin'?” He inquires with a tilted head her way.

“Like hell.”

“You do favor it, sweetie.” He says with a rub of his chin.

She raises her eyes in a glare his way but finds his face not aggressive. ”You look just as well Alfie.” She snarls back.

“I’d not only agree but say I feel much the same.” He nods and purses his lips I’m hesitant agreement.

“I’m going through withdrawal and dealing with a bastard of a ma What’s your excuse?”

“Dealing with a woman going through withdrawl and being a right bastard.” He retorts.

She actually felt inclined to smile at the remark. That would’ve been the first in months. The first non-drug induced one anyway. Normally the comment would’ve been met with a laugh and a little pinch of the cheeky man. Perhaps even a kiss for the self-deprecating humor. But all he saw was a flash of sarcasm in her eyes, but that was indeed enough to satiate him for now. A “Mmph.” nodded is all he is given in the meantime.

“Do you need anythin' this mornin'?” He asks cautiously. She always asked for her medicine with breakfast when it was not freely given.

“No.” She sighs out, teacup resting on her thigh. “I’m afraid I don’t have an appetite for much of anything else anymore.” Her voice is even but her hands shake. Her color was poorly, dark circles under her eyes and a pale complexion. A light cast of sheen from sweat on her skin. Her stomach growls and she rubs it with a wince. “Just send Aggie in. I’m feeling rather weak in the absence of the medicine and I’ll be taking to my bed today I believe.” She rises and puts the back of her hand to her mouth for a moment, nausea sweeping about her insides.

“Will do, love.” He says with a polite bow. “Any cause to call the doctor?”

“No. There’s nothing he can do for this.” She shakes her head. “I’ll just have to suffer until it’s out of my system. And what is more suffering for a woman like me?” She shrugs and looks his way. She was tired, bless her, in so many meanings of the word.

“It is nothing for a strong woman.” He states supportively.

She lets out an amused laugh, a single forced exhale of “Ha.” A scoff really. “When I see one I will be sure to give her my problems.” She rolls her eyes and rubs her stomach again as it growl and squeals.

“Mirrors in the bathroom.” He motions and she shoots him a side-eyed glance. “If you need me further I’ll be only a phone call away.”

“I won’t require you.” She answers curtly, not looking his way. It was the first time she’d not pouted when he mentioned leaving.

“I will be home for tea. Perhaps you will feel up to having it with me?” He questions as he moves toward the door.

“Perhaps.” She calls out in response. She pauses in the bathroom doorway as he does the same to the hall. “Perhaps not.” She says with a shrug and an almost sarcastic face.

He only gives her a nod in response, shutting the door behind him. He should’ve felt a burn of her being cold. But he didn’t. He knew she’d be mad with him for some time. But he was ready to weather it. She could be as angry as she liked, didn’t matter to him. Not when their well being, their business, and her recovery were at stake. He’d take all the anger from her in the world to get his Genny back.

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hbrieic · 6 years ago

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‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

under the cut are brie’s current connections. if your character has been missed, or if you would like to plot, dm!

wren mcintosh

ex-boyfriend / ex-baby daddy / part of her secret

brie and wren started dating when she was sixteen and he was nineteen. despite brie’s sister finley having weird feelings about the age gap and some of wren’s questionable decisions and behaviors, they were allowed to continue seeing each other. brie and wren enabled each other constantly, feeding into each other’s vices of partying, drugs, and alcohol. wren was a somewhat functioning addict at this point, and his addiction often led to him being physically and verbally abusive towards brie. they would make up and break up constantly, usually after a physical altercation that would lead to him apologizing, them exchanging ‘i love you’s and promising to move on and not look back. in spring of the previous year, brie found out that she was pregnant with wren’s baby. when she told him, he blew up at her and told her to seek out an abortion. she told him that she didn’t want to, and she was given an ultimatum: him or the baby. she ended up telling him that she was going to keep the baby, and that she didn’t need him. after being broken up for several months, brie was hit by a drunk driver on the way home from a dance rehearsal over summer. she flipped her car and miscarried. she didn’t tell wren until much later. wren is currently sober, and they are both working on becoming friends again and sharing their feelings about what happened, now looking back on it.

...

don't you love the life you killed? the priest is on the phone your father hit the wall your ma disowned you

don't supposed i'll ever know what it means to be a man it's somethin' i can't change i’ll live around it

dillion porter

boyfriend

brie and dillion knew of each other at school, but also met and started talking officially after he commented on one of her instagram pictures. initially, they clicked but it fell through due to brie not trusting that he wasn’t in love with his ex, gretchen. they fought several times, leading to them ultimately deciding they shouldn’t be friends, friends with benefits, or any kind of item anymore. sometime after prom, the two had a conversation that led to them working their relationship out and getting together. near the end of the school year, brie and dillion snuck off to the prop room by the auditorium to have sex during the school day. while they were in the middle of the act, dillion told her that he loved her. brie ran off immediately after they were redressed due to panicking over the thought of being in love with someone again. they didn’t speak for several days, and when they did, they fought again. they finally promised to let the first i love you go, and let it happen organically in the future...which is exactly what happened. brie still has some attachment issues and concerns regarding letting her guard down, but she has become more willing to let her guard down regarding him. she’s been more willing to share her feelings especially regarding how she feels about him, as well as her feelings about everything that happened to her previously from her biological mom’s abuse to the way wren treated her and losing the baby.

...

i know i can treat you better than he can and any girl like you deserves a gentleman tell me why are we wasting time on all your wasted cryin' when you should be with me instead i know i can treat you better better than he can

mikey chang

previous non-reciprocated crush (on her end) / prom date / friend

brie and mikey have been in dance together since they were little and have shared several duets and group numbers. they’ve always been close, so it was only time before one of them started crushing on the other. mikey developed feelings for brie that continued on even through all of her relationship with wren, and the car accident. mikey was the first to suspect that wren was abusing brie after seeing bruises on her at dance. he confronted her, which ended in mikey trying to speak calmly to her (being a victim of abuse himself) and brie screaming at him about him being wrong and minding his own business. when she found out she was pregnant, mikey was the first person she told. he was also the first person she came to after wren got upset with her for refusing to give the baby up. mikey promised her that if she kept the baby, he’d be willing to be a father figure to him or her and help her. she accepted his offer, and wondered if this would lead to something more and started to wonder if maybe she had feelings for him too. however, when the crash happened, she pulled away from everyone for several months, including mikey...until they finally had a conversation about where she was at mentally and what was going on in her life and they decided to go to prom together. since prom and her relationship with dillion, they’ve remained friends.

...

what the hell were we? tell me we weren't just friends this doesn't make much sense but I'm not hurt, i'm tense cause i'll be fine without you babe

shea flanagan

best friend / ex-friend with benefits / accomplice

after brie’s tumultuous relationship with wren, and prior to her relationship with dillion, brie turned to shea for comfort and attention. they’d been friends since middle school...friends that always joked about what it’d be like if they had sex or maybe even lit an abandoned building on fire. brie and shea are the kind of friends that are often targeted when anything negative or unusual happens at school, even if they aren’t the ones that did it. brie and shea both landed themselves in glee club after an incident occurred in which shea created a distraction while brie pulled the fire alarm to get them out of having to turn in an assignment they weren’t prepared for. brie was also found to have mace on her at school the same day. shea was completely in the loop with what was going on with brie and wren, and just like mikey, shea volunteered to help brie as much as he could with her decision to keep the baby. throughout the wilder part of their friendship, their nights often consisted of doing drugs, having wild, often aggressive sex, and making fast food runs at ungodly hours of the night up until brie started developing feelings for dillion and told shea they needed to at least stop being physical with each other. she told him that they could continue to numb their pain other ways together, but the sexual side of their relationship had to take an abrupt halt.

...

my tolerance is going up and i'm getting numb to the feeling, yeah and i've been abusing drugs i'm getting numb to the feeling, yeah i need you to show me love 'cause i'm getting numb to the feeling, yeah i need you to ride me harder when we fuck 'cause i'm getting numb to the feeling

maxine newton

best friend

brie and maxine are from similar backgrounds, but max doesn’t let her in on this. due to maxine not like affection and closeness with others, maxine definitely knows more about brie than brie does about her. brie and max have also been dancing together for a while now, and have been friends for just as long. throughout brie’s relationship with wren, maxine had her suspicions about the situation and the obvious string of lies that brie told. when it came out that she was pregnant, max supported brie in any decision that she made, even when she may not have agreed with it herself. currently, brie and max are the head skanks in charge of that group, and they’re the school’s resident troublemakers. brie is fairly certain that maxine has taken an interest in shea...and truth be told, brie would love to see it happen. as far as her love life goes, maxine is on the fence about what she thinks about brie and dillion, especially after being rooted in her prediction that brie and mikey were going to get together once all was said and done.

...

so i've got some mischief in my blood can you blame me i never got no love

they think i'm callous a low-life hood i feel so useless misunderstood

alana mcintosh

frenemy

from the start, brie and alana haven’t seen eye to eye. alana didn’t like brie when she dated wren, and brie felt the same way. however, brie often continued to antagonize her and harass her even after she and wren had broken up...especially over the status of the glee club in their upcoming senior year. however, recently, brie hatched a bit of a scheme to try and pull a rug out from under her, befriending her so the feeling of victory would be even sweeter when she beat her own her own for lead vocalist in glee...but the more the girls keep talking, the more brie realizes that they’re both in similar places of feeling kind of lonely and kind of sad...alana with her dad’s frequent stays in new york for work and brie with everything that went on between her and wren. recently, brie opened up to alana about the truth regarding what happened with her and wren to hopefully have alana understand her better and despite it being “a lot” for alana, she confided in brie that his behavior was no different at home and informed her that wren had been disowned by their father. now brie is realizing that they both seem to be pouring themselves into the arts for other reasons and wonders if they’d be better teamed up together instead of at odds.

...

and she lives her dreams through the magazines and her daddy's gone and she needs someone and she's got the looks and the boys on hooks but she'll trade it all for a heart that's whole god save the prom queen

finley karofsky

sister

being dave’s only biological child, finley was always a daddy’s girl...that is until brie came along in her early elementary school years. from that point forward, finley felt that brie was taking all of the attention away from her due to her various mental health issues and school-related concerns. while brie and finley can live in the same house without that much fighting (aside from the occasional scrap), they are not that close and remain rather indifferent towards each other. brie doesn’t like finley’s attitude, and finley feels the same way about brie. brie also doesn’t trust finley, and despite her dad and her brother baron knowing what happened to her last summer...she has yet to tell finley anything, predominantly because she doesn’t want finley to know she was right about wren. disagreements aside, brie does want a relationship with finley deep deep down, and it bothers her that someone can be so...in her opinion...hateful to a family member.

...

i don't like your kingdom keys they once belonged to me you ask me for a place to sleep locked me out and threw a feast

baron karofsky

brother

baron is the sibling that brie is the closest to. in fact, he may be the person in general that she is the closest to. baron and brie have been tight since the day they met, and have always clicked due to their eclectic styles and wild, adventurous personalities. they share clothes, jewelry, makeup, cigarettes, and some secrets. both of them have reputations for being “insane” or “psycho”, despite the stigma that comes with those words, but they’ve learned to embrace it. brie supports baron’s interest in pursuing music, and frequently encourages him to be himself...especially after his biological family didn’t allow him to do so.

...

and you can find me in the space between where two worlds come to meet i'll never be out of reach 'cause you're a part of me so you can find me in the space between you'll never be alone no matter where you go we can meet in the space between

#connections

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agirlinjapan · 7 years ago

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Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School (Week 30)

Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School By Noriko Ogiwara A Translation

Miss the last piece? Read it here!

Check out the RDG Translation twitter!

Help me pay for my next translation project on Ko-fi.

Now that I’m back from Japan, I can enjoy a lazy summer vacation to the fullest!... Or maybe it won’t be so lazy. With all this free time on my hands, I’ve been translating like crazy. During the school year, I’m lucky to get 10 or so RDG pages done in a month. In the past two weeks, I’ve translated over 60 pages.

Lots of translating time means lots of material for me to post. Therefore, as I announced last week, I’ll be posting new RDG every Sunday this month. I’m excited to get back onto a weekly schedule after two years of biweekly posting.

Once September comes around and school starts, I’ll be returning to the biweekly schedule, but let’s enjoy the summer while it’s still around. :)

We’re getting really close to the end of this book! Including this week, there are only 2 more installations left! We’re finishing RDG 5 next week!!

Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School By Noriko Ogiwara Chapter 4: Choice Part 4 (2 of 2)

It was decided that the student body would gather in the lecture hall. The guests who hadn’t left, as well as the parents and guardians, were directed towards the cafeteria.

Apparently the stoves and other cooking appliances weren’t working either, but the day’s kitchen staff was luckily able to put together a meal that required no cooking. The students’ lunches consisted of premade bento boxes, bread, and rice balls—all foods that were easy to eat while moving. There was plenty to go around. The only problem was that no one could have imagined the entire school eating together in one place at one time.

It was chaos.

Seeing as the middle school students had also been gathered into the lecture hall with the high schoolers, there were many students who couldn’t find a chair to sit in. As a result, plenty of people had spilled out into the lounge area.

The Warring States era costumes were also causing problems. Many students found that they couldn’t sit down while maintaining good manners. Students were strewn across the floor eating their lunches. Flags, banners, and armor were haphazardly left everywhere. At a glance, the room really did look like a battle field. The scene had more of a Warring States era feel to it than the actual all school game had.

Many of the students had taken pieces of their armor off, but the teachers and student government were hesitant to cancel the second half of the games. Seeing as what had happened with the electronics was so odd, it might be dangerous for the students to disperse across the campus after making such a decision. There was a need to cautiously continue on with the original plan. After waiting for more information to come in, the adults went back and forth over what to do, taking up valuable time.

It was taking so long to decide what would happen next that Mayura and Manatsu went out to sit in the hallway. There, Manatsu was able to relay every last detail he had seen and heard since the games had begun. He talked about the man Miyuki knew, what had happened with Hayakawa, and Takayanagi’s surprising situation. He didn’t stop talking until he came to the end of the story.

The more Mayura heard, the more she couldn’t help but think that it had been a good thing Manatsu hadn’t gone with Miyuki into the alternate dimension. She knew that Masumi was there and that some sort of altercation was going on. She was just glad that Manatsu had come back to her. If something happened here, she would desperately need his help. It wasn’t just that she had wanted to see him.

“Sagara’s a better guy than I thought he was…”

As Mayura murmured this, Manatsu gave a small laugh and said quietly, “Didn’t I say that from the start? He even took dog Takayanagi with him. I wonder what Shinko was planning.”

“He was thinking about what he could do for Izumiko.”

“Yeah. I think Izumiko’s the one who turned Takayanagi into a dog, but I’m not sure.”

Mayura sat against the wall, her knees up. She gazed at her hands resting on the luxurious fabric of her hakama pants. Manatsu, in his loose kuroko outfit, had his legs spread out in front of him.

“…Tell me, Manatsu. Will I become the World Heritage Candidate? Is Masumi gone?” Mayura asked after a quiet moment. She continued after asking her question. “I thought this was the best way to do it. I thought becoming the Candidate would show our whole family that we have power even when we’re not together and we haven’t called Masumi. But do we not have that connection between him and us anymore? That promise we made when we were kids, the connection… if Masumi is gone for good, there won’t be anything left between him and us, will there?”

“When we got taller, so did he, right? Obviously we noticed that, but Masumi didn’t. That’s why our connection to him or between us won’t necessarily disappear. It’s just going to take a different shape,” Manatsu said, voicing the ideas he had mulled over countless times before. “I don’t think Masumi will disappear, never to be seen again. If I thought that, it would be the end, wouldn’t it? The next time he returns, he’ll be a little different from me. From you, too. That’s all. Those things happen, even to triplets, right?”

“I want to welcome him back… I hope I’ll be able to say that much to him. I want to see Sagara and Izumiko again, too. But I feel like I only have you and Masumi, right now.”

Mayura leaned forward, putting her chin on her knees. “I did something mean to Sagara today. It’s not a nice story. That’s why after hearing everything you just told me, I think Sagara’s capable of way more than I gave him credit for.”

Manatsu gazed at his sister, but he didn’t ask her to elaborate. “I like seeing you all upbeat and competitive, but I don’t really like it when you’re so busy. You get weird when you try too hard. It’s okay to do what you want to do. I’m not going to disappear that easily.”

“So you’re saying I should relax.” Mayura’s tone was sulky, but Manatsu still continued on.

“If and when I die, there’s other ways to go that are unrelated to my heart. It could be a traffic accident or a natural disaster or some other illness. What I’m saying is something has to happen eventually, so there’s no reason to worry any more than you have to. You should enjoy Grandpa trying to find a husband for you.”

“That’s not something I can enjoy…”

“But today you say Shinko in a new way. Our opinions of people are always changing. And it seems like there’s still time for us to change as people, too. As we change, it’s totally alright for us to check to make sure that the unchanging ties we have to other people are still there.”

After reflecting on her brother’s words for a moment, Mayura murmured, “If you think that, it’s alright, I guess. You seem so confident that we can fix everything, so maybe I shouldn’t worry. But if you really do think all those things you just said, we probably need to start making things right again now.”

Just then, the student president along with Hoshino and Okouchi appeared as they turned a corner into the hallway. Their eyes fell on the two sitting on the floor.

“Is this where you’ve been, Manatsu?” Hoshino asked. “Listen to this—you too, Mayura. The teachers decided to go on with the second battle game!”

Mayura and Manatsu stared at the two older students. They had been sure the game would be cancelled due to the time the electric problems had taken up. However, Honoka and the two second year boys would be putting their black, kuroko hoods back on much earlier than expected. Their faces would be hidden behind the veils, and they were ready to go back to judging.

“Can we still continue the game? Even with the current limitations?”

“The official decision is that it would be better to just get through the last game than to stop here,” Okouchi responded in what couldn’t be called a happy tone. “Giving the students free time would just cause their panic to rise again. Besides, there are rumors of ghostly happenings going around. We don’t know where that’s coming from, so we’re just going to let that be, though.”

“Ghost stories?”

“They’re a little more fantastical than that, apparently. People are saying there’s nothing beyond the school campus, and after today, the world’s going to end. There are people who wanted to prove that the stories were wrong, but apparently no one’s been physically able leave the campus. No one knows why, but they can’t do it.”

Even Mayura had to admit it was a scary story. However, she could see how such talk would occur when communication with the outside world had completely stopped.

“No one can seriously go beyond the gate?”

“I haven’t tried,” Honoka said, frowning. “The teams who were competing by the horse ring are more upset than the others. When we took rollcall there, there were also a few missing students. Some of the teachers went looking, but apparently they didn’t find them. They didn’t search all the way up the hill though, and there is a chance they may have left campus for some reason. But, Sagara and Izumiko are among the missing students. This is a huge blow to the student government.”

“There are a few rumors flying around about their disappearance,” Hoshino added. “For example, they fell in a hole into a different dimension, or got dragged away by the dead, or fell through time into the past. All delusional disasters, I’m sure.”

Mayura and Manatsu glanced at each other, and then Manatsu quickly stood up.

“Ah. Sorry. I have to get back to work.”

“Please do so. Even you first years are busy today,” Honoka agreed.

The student president was never one to be lenient, but Mayura couldn’t complain today. It was clear to see how overwhelmed Honoka was as she struggled through the day.

“If all the electronics aren’t fixed by the evening, everyone’s going to get even more frightened, and I think we’ll have a real panic on our hands,” Honoka went on. “We need to continue the game as soon as possible. We need to gather all the students who are willing to work as leaders.”

Okouchi was already calmer than he had been before. He cradled his precious, broken laptop in his arms.

“If it all broke without reason, there’s a chance it’ll all start working again without reason, too, right?” he asked. “There’s no reason to give up on the possibility that it’ll go back to the way it was before. We just have to wait.”

The final game was a simple matter. Seeing as it would be played as a melee, it was important that the judges took care in managing the game. They would use the open space in front of the classroom building, and would follow traditional “balloon popping” rules. The soldiers who were still “alive” would carry their team’s banners into the battle along with a balloon attached to the same pole. The balloons’ fates would be the fates of the soldiers. It would make quite a spectacle as the two teams crashed into one another.

According to reports, the attack and defense teams had received around the same points during the first game and still had about the same amount of soldiers remaining. The commanders in their restricting armor would carry the balloons that would determine the outcome of the game; theirs were worth more points than the regular soldiers’, and therefore the team who defended theirs the best would most likely win.

The third year middle schoolers, disheartened by how the day was going, roused themselves to protect their princess general. With the game beginning again, spirits rose and rumors were forgotten. However, when Mayura looked to find Takayanagi, the attack team general she was supposed to be facing off against, he was nowhere to be seen. In normal circumstances, she would have been happy about this, but today she found that she wasn’t pleased at all.

None of this really should be happening. Not when Izumiko and Sagara are somewhere dangerous instead of here at the game…

The clouds in the sky had grown thick without her noticing. It was only three o’clock in the afternoon, but it was dark and gloomy already as if dusk was approaching. Without the sun shining, the change from the morning’s weather was distinctly apparent.

It took much longer than expected to gather everyone outside, whether costumed or no. No one had considered how slowly people would move when they couldn’t hear directions over a loudspeaker. It was just like the Warring States era.

The students who had quickly moved into their armies eventually grew tired of waiting.

That’s when it happened.

An army made up of something completely other than students came down from the sports grounds on the hill.

Some students saw it immediately. Others did not see it at all. A murmuring of surprise and disbelief began to grow in the crowd.

At first, Mayura didn’t notice it either. However, the moment she saw it, she could not take her eyes off of what was coming. The wiggling human shadows looked so weak they were practically transparent, but they were definitely part of a Warring States era battle.

They didn’t look like anything from this world, though.

Knowing no matter what it was, it was bad, Mayura hurried to find Honoka. It wouldn’t be good at all if the person in charge of the entire game fell into panic over ghosts.

However, Honoka, located between the two student armies, was already watching the incoming forces, as were the students around her. Some of them were murmuring to each other, but as the seconds ticked by, the crowd steadily quieted. They stared blankly, their eyes glued to the scene. However, none of them seemed scared. Strangely, Mayura felt the same way. She had assumed she would be frightened upon seeing ghosts for the first time, but apparently, this was not the case.

The semi-transparent soldiers coming down the hill were certainly frightening enough. No matter how Mayura considered it, it was strange indeed that the entire school was silently watching the spectacle in front of them. If she had to choose which was the stranger sight, the approaching army of ghosts or the silent students, she was certain she’d pick the students.

…What will I do if we have to fight them?...

And what about all the other students around her, carrying balloons on their backs, ready to play a silly game?

Was this the same thing as a frog being unable to take its eyes off a snake? But Mayura was at a loss of what to do as well. It seemed like the only thing left to do was pray that they weren’t attacked.

Just then, she felt a familiar sensation beside her. When she looked over, Masumi was standing next to her.

“Huh?... Masumi?”

“I’m sorry, Mayura. I was fooling around.” Masumi’s tone was cheerful.

“What have you been doing?” Mayura asked. “Where’s Izumiko?”

“Oh, Miyuki chased me off.”

“So Izumiko turned you down?”

“Nah. I don’t think she’s really decided yet. Anyway, I came to protect you.”

After letting out a long sigh, Mayura finally found the ability to speak. “Welcome back, Masumi. I knew you’d return to me.”

“I know. That’s why I came back,” Masumi said.

“Bring Izumiko and Sagara back soon.”

“Even I can’t do that.” He nodded his head in the army’s direction. “Look at that,” he urged, his tone still light. “It’s just all the ghosts of Hachiouji Castle returning home. You’ll understand after they’re gone.”

The deceased soldier ghosts passed right in front of the students. As Masumi had said, they did not give the crowd even one look as they went by. It was as if they didn’t even see the group pressed shoulder to shoulder in their own army costumes. The ghosts simply continued on to the gate, fading into oblivion as they passed through it.

The students watched silently as the spectacle went by like onlookers at a parade. The whole thing felt like a dream.

After the last soldier had passed through the gate, and the students had turned their heads back towards the campus, they found something else had appeared without their knowledge while they had been focused on the procession.

A half transparent woman was standing in the middle of the open space near the sports grounds. She was dressed in a Warring States era over kimono, performing a solitary dance.

Is that Izumiko?...

Mayura squinted to get a better look, but she wasn’t sure. Seeing as the dancer was transparent, she couldn’t quite make out the color of her clothing or the designs on it. All the same, it looked very much like the outfit Izumiko had worn at the kimono demonstration. There was an open fan in her hand. When she turned it around, Mayura could see that one side of it was white. The dancing princess’s hair flowed far down her back, and her face had a soft paleness to it. It reminded Mayura more of Izumiko than anyone else she had ever seen.

The other students were beginning to notice the dancer and murmur among themselves. All the same, the crowd was still encompassed in the silence of watching an event happen. They all gazed on in rapt attention, holding their breaths.

“Tell me. Is that Izumiko?” Mayura whispered to Masumi.

“Quiet. You need to watch this,” he whispered back. “I bet you never thought you’d get a chance to see Izumiko dance.”

Mayura knew exactly what Masumi meant. Izumiko was not the sort of girl who performed in front of crowds to bathe in attention. She had never once heard Miyuki mention anything about her dancing, either. However, when she realized that this was Izumiko, something deep inside of her chest relaxed.

Izumiko is special. She’s different from everyone else. There’s probably no one else like her…

The faint, goddess-like figure continued to dance alone in the one beam of sunlight that had made it through the cloudy sky.

As the slight figured continued her careful movements, her long hair and sleeves suddenly began to flutter, and the hem of her kimono gently rose off the ground. For an instant, everyone was blinded by the whiteness of her fan. Then she continued to silently move her feet…

Her movements repeated over and over. There were times when the onlookers could see her raise her hand to her lips, but she never made a sound. The students could not take their eyes off the simple movements. Watching her was like an invitation into a dream world.

“…Beautiful,” Mayura said, her voice quiet. “I think she’s letting you know that she doesn’t want to be with you.”

Masumi didn’t answer. However, he seemed to smile.

The students lost all track of time as they watched the unearthly girl’s dance. They had no sense of how many minutes had gone by. How many hours. But then suddenly, something snapped, and the end was instantly there.

Everyone heard a familiar mechanical sound began to fill the air; the beating sound of rotors. Up until now, no one had been looking at the sky. Now though, everyone raised their heads almost as if they were waking up.

A helicopter was flying above the school.

Keep reading!

#rdg #red data girl #rdg my longest day of school #rdg 5 #rdg 5 week 30 #translation

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ladywinchester1967 · 7 years ago

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Dare You To Move: Tension

Pairings: Dr. Dean Winchester x Grace Drake, Kenneth Drake x Grace Drake, Kenneth Drake x William Helms

Warnings: Girl fight (verbal and physical), language, SMUT, breeding kink (if you squint),*******TRIGGER WARNING: depiction of domestic violence & attempted rape.******

A/N: SURPRISE!!! Here is the 3rd chapter in my Dare You To Move series. I’m being serious about the trigger warning guys, if deceptions of domestic violence and attempted rape upset you; PLEASE, please, PLEASE, don’t read this chapter. If it upsets too many people; I can put up an edited version of this chapter at a later date (like a day or so). As always; unbeta’d, all mistakes are mine, but the pictures are not. I found them on Pinterest and tumblr.

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

The tension is here

Between who you are and who you could be

Between how it is and how it should be

The remainder of the holidays had Grace in knots. Not only was she feeling under the weather, but the memory of what Sandy had seen was seared into her brain.

“Maybe she'll forget about it.” Kenneth tried to reason as he handed Grace a glass of water.

“Doubt it,” Grace told him as she accepted the glass “that woman has a mind like a steel trap for gossip. If she hasn't told everyone from here to Timbuktu already, she will soon.”

“What do you want to do?” Kenneth asked as Grace took a sip of her water.

“There's nothing I CAN do,” Grace told him “she saw me and Dean kissing, in our kitchen. With you less than ten feet away. I may as well sew a scarlet A on my sweater now.”

Kenneth shook his head, grinning.

After the holidays, Grace didn't receive a call to remind her of bridge club. In fact, the phone went days without a word from any of her friends. The only person she'd really spoken to was Dean when he got back from Kansas. She went over to his apartment that night and they caught up.

“So, nothing. From anyone?” He asked when she finished her story “and this isn't a “no news is good news” situation is it?”

“Not at all.” She told him “I'm wondering if I should go over to her house and talk to her? Or maybe call her?”

Dean bit his lip

“Are you sure?” he asked “Do you really want her to question you? So what if she knows?”

“Kenneth and William are still a secret,” she reminded him “my reputation is ruined.”

“Since when do YOU care about your reputation?” he asked

“Since I'm supposed to be keeping up appearances.” She told him and he raised an eyebrow at her “What?” she asked

“You can't tell me that NONE of those bitches have had an affair, not a single one.” He said

“Not that I know of,” She told him “if they have, they're going to keep it a secret.”

“You do whatever you feel that you have to,” Dean said with a sigh “but I don't think you're going to like what you hear.”

The next day, Grace puttered around the market; waiting for Sandy and her hired help, Daisy. At precisely 3:00, Sandy and Daisy walked through the door and grabbed a grocery cart. Grace trailed behind them for a few steps and then once they were in an aisle, Grace called her name. Sandy turned, saw where the voice came from and then turned back around. Grace caught up to them and said

“Sandy, I need to talk to you.”

“I have nothing to speak to you about,” Sandy snapped “nothing at all.”

“Sandy, you can't ignore me forever.” Grace told her as she stepped in front of Sandy's cart. Sandy stared her down, her eyes full of ice.

“You're disgusting you know that? Your husband was in THE NEXT ROOM Grace.” she hissed “I can't believe you would disrespect your husband like that in his own home.”

“It was an accident.” Grace lied “I got caught up and it didn't mean anything.”

Sandy let out a humorless laugh

“Grace, you're a terrible liar. You were holding a strand of pearls and his tongue was in your mouth. So, not only did you disrespect your husband, but you just lied straight to my face.” she said

“What do you want me to do? Apologize? Beg your forgiveness?” Grace asked

“I want you to just admit what you are and let your husband go. PLENTY of other women would treat him better than you have.” Sandy said

“What am I supposed to admit?” Grace asked “That I'm a whore?”

“Your words,” Sandy said with an evil smile “not mine.”

Grace rolled her eyes “It's more complicated than how it looks.” she said

“Didn't look complicated in your kitchen,” Sandy said “just how man men HAVE you spread your legs open for while poor Kenneth and William were slaving away to build their business?”

That comment sent Grace over the edge. She walked over and slapped Sandy across the face, sending her stumbling backwards with a surprised cry.

“I was trying to explain myself,” Grace said “but all you've done is proven Dean right. You and those other bitches I called friends are nothing but that; a bunch of bitches.”

Sandy's mouth was open in surprise as tears hung on her eyelashes.

“You're ruined in this town,” Sandy told her “you AND that doctor you're sleeping with. You two are FINISHED.”

Grace stepped toward Sandy

“Ruin me all you want,” she said in a low tone “call me whatever you can think of and I'll take it. But I swear to God Sandy, if you so much as utter one word about Dean, I won't hold back the next time I slap you.”

The two women stared one another down as Grace walked away, a couple of people had stopped to stare at their altercation, but quickly left when they saw Grace striding toward them.

An hour later, Grace met Dean at his office and told him what happened, which made him laugh.

“Jesus,” he said “I didn't think you had it in you!”

“There's three things in this world no one should mess with,” she told him as she locked his office door and strode over to him “My family,” she said as she grabbed the collar of his coat “my money” she stood on the balls of her feet, stretching up to him “and my man.” then she kissed him

“Mh,” he moaned through their kiss as he wrapped her in his arms “here? Are you sure?”

“Well, I'm a tramp remember?” she asked as she roamed her hands under his jacket, slipping it off “May as well fuck like one.”

He pulled back and said

“Take it easy now, that's my girl you're talking about.”

She laughed as the timer on his desk went off.

“Ready?” he asked and she nodded

“As I'll ever be.” she said and he walked over the corner of his office and picked up the test that was sitting on it. He read over the results and turned to look at her with a smile on his face.

“Congratulations.” he said and her face broke into a grin.

“We're pregnant?!” she asked and he nodded

“The test is positive,” he said and showed it to her “you're going to be a mother.”

She rushed over to him and wrapped him into a huge hug, tears escaping her eyes

“And you're-” she choked out “you're going to be a father.”

He held her tightly and kissed her hair, then pulled back and looked at her face, smoothing her curls out of her eyes.

“I'm so happy,” he said in an excited whisper, the grin on his face looked like it was going to break him “this is all I've ever wanted.”

They kissed as he picked her up and carried her to the edge of his desk where he sat her down and pulled her dress up, his fingers gliding along the inside of her thigh. She opened her legs a little more as his fingers moved up higher. Much to his surprise, there was nothing between her and his fingers.

“Did you forget something this morning?” he asked mischievously

“If by “forget” you mean I neglected to put them on,” she said as she pushed his jacket down and off his shoulders “then yes, I did.”

He audibly growled as he teased his fingers through her soaking folds and she moaned into his mouth. He easily slid two fingers inside of her as the heel of his hand rutted against her clit.

“Sh, you have to be quiet.” he said as she let out a pleasure filled sigh. She could only nod as he drove her higher, his pace quickening. She reached out and unbuckled his belt, then unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks and pulled them down, freeing his hardened cock from the confines of his underwear. She licked her hand and took his hardened length into it as he let out a quiet gasp.

“Mh sweetheart,” he moaned in her ear “god you're so wet, you feel amazing. I want to bend you over this desk and fuck you into next week.”

“Do it,” she murmured back to him “fuck me hard and deep.”

He pulled his fingers out of her, licked them clean and pulled her off the desk. He turned her around and bent her over, yanking her dress up and plunging deep inside her, sliding home instantly. Grace bit her lip and held on, trying not to scream as he railed into her like his life depended on it. He yanked her up so that her back was against his chest. He held one hand on her throat and the other against her belly.

“Can't wait until you start showing,” he murmured in her ear “growing our baby inside you.”

“Our baby,” she echoed “god I love it when you say that.”

He bit the outer shell of her ear, he mumbled back as he thrust harder “fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too.” she told him as the slapping of skin hitting skin filled his office. She quietly moaned his name like a prayer as the chord in his belly snapped, sending her over the edge with him.

When they'd composed themselves, they left the office.

“When should I tell Kenneth?” Grace asked Dean

“I want to wait a little while,” he said “just between you and me for right now okay?”

She nodded in agreement as she kissed him goodbye, his hand grazing over her tummy. He smiled as he looked down at it. They looked at each other with mirrored grins and kissed one more time before parting for the night.

Two weeks later; Grace decided it was time to tell Kenneth. He had started getting suspicious when she wouldn't drink her wine at night and the smell of cooking meat made her sick. One night after dinner, Grace plucked up all her courage and with her mind made up, she sat Kenneth down.

This was it; she was going to tell him about the baby and that she'd decided she wanted to move out to raise the baby with Dean. He would be coming over that night to pick her up and take her home with him. Her suitcases were hidden in the guest room closet, packed and ready to go.

“Kenneth, I don’t know exactly how to say this,” Grace told him “So I’m just going to come out and say it.”

“What’s wrong?” Kenneth asked

She shifted in her seat and then said

“Nothing is wrong,” she told him “it's just that I’m,” she took a deep breath “Kenneth, I’m pregnant.”

It took a second for her words to sink in and when they finally did, he flipped the coffee table over in fury, making her scream.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” He screamed at her. He yanked her up out of her chair as she yelled and slammed her back against the wall as she cried out in pain. “So, not only do you get to fuck another guy behind my back,” he said venomously “but now I have to raise the by product of you being a slut?!”

“Kenneth stop!” She screamed, pushing his hands away from her, only for him to come back and pin her against the wall.

“Stop? Bet you never told the good doctor that.” He sneered.

Her fear was now replaced with rage as she brought her fist up and punched him in the temple, knocking him side ways and releasing his grip on her.

“FUCK YOU KENNETH!” She screamed as she ran for the door. He quickly readjusted his stance and marched over to her. He grabbed her wrist and hem of her dress as she struggled against his grasp.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” she yelled as he threw her to the ground.

“May be I can try cunt again,” he told “since you're giving it away, I gotta try some of this.”

“Let go of me!” She yelled, balling up her free hand and slamming her fist into the side of his head. He grunted and his grip faltered, she turned to leave and he pounced again, tackling her to the floor. She bit, kicked, scratched and clawed at him as he flipped her on to her back, tearing her dress open. The fabric ripped and buttons pinged off the furniture.

“STOP FUCKING STRUGGLING!” He screamed at her as he wrapped his hands around her throat. She scratched at the back of his hands as he squeezed, cutting off her air way. Tears sprang in her eyes as she kept struggling, the world around her seeming to go silent. All she could hear was the sound of blood rushing in her ears and her own heart pounding as she kept kicking and twisting her hips, trying to throw him off, her vision going black around the edges. He didn’t let up, not even as her nails drew blood on the backs of his hands.

Dean pulled up to the house and cut off the engine to his car. As he stepped out, he heard glass shatter and Grace screaming. It was like getting electrocuted, he ran to the front door and saw the coffee table in the living room had been flipped over from the front window. He tried to open the door but didn’t have any luck.

“Fuck!” He yelled and backed up

With one kick that echoed like a shot gun blast, the front door exploded open, sending splintered wood all over the living room. Dean ran through and saw Kenneth on top of Grace with his hands around her neck, the remnants of her torn dress around her and her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

Dean’s military training kicked right back in as he grabbed Kenneth, forcing him off of Grace and slamming him into the opposite wall. With a few well placed kicks and punches, Kenneth was bleeding from his nose and mouth.

Grace took a deep breath and coughed as she rolled to her front and propped up on her arms, glass from the floor tearing into her forearms and legs

“You fucking asshole!” She heard Dean telling “don’t you put your god damn hands on her EVER AGAIN, do you hear me?!”

She coughed hard, her head pounding as she watched Kenneth slump to the ground. She looked up and saw Dean make his way to her as tears rolled down her face. He got on his knees and held her face in his hands, his green eyes wide with worry.

“Gracie,” he said “can you stand sweetheart?”

She struggled to talk as she kept coughing, without needing any more response, Dean slipped one hand around her shoulders and the other under her knees and scooped her up into his arms. He grabbed a blanket off the back of the sofa and carried her out to his car where he put her into the passenger seat and then wrapped the blanket around her. He got into the car and they drove off.

Dean drove her to his clinic where they went in through the back entrance and he seated her in one of the exam rooms.

“I’m going to check for a head injury,” he told her as he moved around the room in full doctor mode “then I need to make sure you don’t have any damage to your throat, and these cuts need to be cleaned and bandaged.”

She didn’t protest, she waited while he examined her, answering any questions he had related to her injuries.

“You’ll probably have bruises on your neck,” he told her “and a sore throat for a few days. It doesn’t look like you have a concussion, but your head is more than likely going to hurt. If you start to feel dizzy or have ringing in your ears, you need to tell me because that is a sign of a concussion.”

She nodded.

“Does your,” he bit his lip as he trailed off, swallowing nervously “does your belly hurt or are you bleeding?”

She shook her head

“No,” she told him “I think the baby is okay.”

He nodded, stowing his worry away for right now.

In spite of the circumstances, he was calm and confident while he treated her. He picked the glass out of her arms and legs, then cleaned and dressed the wounds, which luckily didn’t require stitches. Unfortunately, the injury to her lip did require a stitch so he set to work, disinfecting and numbing the area before he began. Once he had a light on the injury so he could see what he was doing, he asked

“You told him, didn’t you? Blink once for yes, twice for no.”

One blink

He shook his head and didn’t say anything more as he stitched up her lip. When he was done he told her

“You’ll probably feel some pain, I can give your a couple of prescriptions to help with that.”

She nodded as he helped her up.

“I’m gonna clean up in here and then I’ll take you home with me. Stay close so I can keep an eye on you.”

“I have to call Lula and tell her to bring me some clothes.” She told him.

He nodded to the receptionists desk

“Use the phone right there.” he told her

She nodded and he kissed her forehead.

Once Dean was finished cleaning the exam room, he drove them to his apartment. Once they were inside, Dean gave her a pair of pajamas to wear to bed after she had taken a shower.

“Gracie?” Dean asked as she climbed into bed.

“Hm?” She asked as she settled beside him.

“He hasn’t done this before has he?” Dean asked and she shook her head.

“No,” she told him “I swear, he’s never laid a finger on me before tonight.”

Dean pulled her close but didn’t hold her too tightly for fear of hurting her. He gently stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. They laid their quietly for a while, the dim light from his bed side lamp bathing his room in an orangeish glow.

“Dean?” She asked and he looked down at her. Her lip was trembling slightly, her eyes filling with tears.

“I’ve had enough,” she told him “I don't just want to move out. I want a divorce.”

“Sweetheart,” Dean said gently “I’m thrilled to hear you say that, I want you to think about it.”

“I have,” She told him “for a long time. I can put up with a lot. But him doing what he did tonight?” she shook her head “That I can’t put up with.”

“Will you do me a favor?” He asked her, taking her face in his hand, their eyes connecting. She nodded and he went on “I want you to take the night and sleep on it. Whatever you decide, I’ll have your six.”

She nodded

“Okay.” She said and kissed him.

The next day; Dean called into the office and told them he’d be taking a personal day. The other doctor, Cole, would see his patients for the day. Grace’s injuries looked worse than they had the night before. Her neck had pronounced, hand shaped bruises around it, bruises on her arms, legs, inner thighs and back.

“I look like hammered shit.” She told Dean when she saw herself in the mirror.

“It’s one of those things that’s gonna get worse before it gets better.” He said through gritted teeth. Each injury on her body served as a harsh reminder that he hadn’t been there to protect her or their baby.

“Not enough concealer in the world to cover this crap,” she said looking at her neck “I’ll have to see about finding a scarf or something to cover up with.”

The door bell rang and Dean answered it, Lula and Malcolm were there, holding Grace’s suitcases. Dean ushered them in and Grace came out of the bathroom. Lula gasped, dropping the suitcase she was holding, her hands clapping over her mouth.

“Lula, I’m okay.” Grace said as Lula rushed to her, wrapping her in a hug.

“Oh Mrs. Grace, I’m so sorry baby.” Lula said, tears rolling down her cheeks. Grace hugged her back, breaking down in Lula’s arms.

Once Grace had calmed down, Lula made her some tea and fussed over her.

“You has to take it easy,” Lula told her “you put those feet up and relax, you has to look out for you and that baby, ya hear?”

“Yes Lula, I hear.” Grace said fondly.

Dean and Malcolm has made themselves scarce, hiding in the kitchen and drinking whiskey.

“I ask you a question Mr. Winchester?” Malcolm asked Dean.

“Shoot.” Dean said, pouring both of them another drink.

“How long you been in love with Mrs. Grace?” Malcolm asked

Dean smirked

“Since I was fifteen,” Dean said “she was the new girl in school and once she flashed me that smile, I was hooked.”

Malcolm smiled

“I figured,” he said “had my eye on Lula since I was eight.”

“Eight?!” Dean asked, shocked and Malcolm laughed.

“Cutest, nicest little girl on the playground,” Malcolm said “had her hooks in me ever since.”

Dean grinned and held up his glass

“To the ladies.” he said

“I’ll drink to that Mr. Winchester.” Malcolm said and they clinked their glasses together and drank.

“You can call me Dean,” Dean said to Malcolm “Mr. Winchester is my Dad and I’m not ready for that yet.”

Malcolm smiled

“You best get used to it,” Malcolm said “with that little one on the way.”

Dean gave a lopsided smile

“It hasn’t sunk in yet,” Dean confessed “she told me but I still can’t believe it’s real.”

“And ya won’t,” Malcolm said “not until they let you hold that little boy or girl in your arms.”

“Nice to know.” Dean said and they continued to drink.

The next day; Dean had to go back to work and Grace went to speak to an attorney about getting a divorce.

“On what grounds Mrs. Drake?” the lawyer, Raphael, asked.

Grace took off the scarf around her neck and showed him the horrid bruises, making him physically flinch.

“Need I say more?” She asked

“What did you do?” Raphael asked.

Grace paused for a second and then leaned in.

“I’m sorry, what was that question?” She asked

“What did you do to make him choke you?” Raphael asked.

Grace stood up and collected her purse.

“Thank you for your time, but I won’t be requiring your services.” She said and turned on her heel.

“Wait, Mrs. Drake, please.” Raphael said as he scrambled up and followed her out into the lobby.

“I’ll do no such thing,” Grace said and as a man in his late forties came out of his office.

“Everything okay out here?” He asked. He wore a sharp, dark suit. He had short, black and silver hair and a matching beard with hazel eyes with a Scottish accent.

“Oh just dandy,” Grace said sarcastically “your partner here?” She asked and pointed to Raphael “Just asked me what I’d done wrong for my husband to nearly choke me to death.” She showed him her neck and said “Thank you for your concern, but I won’t be needing anyone’s service here.”

The man flashed an angry look at Raphael.

“Raphael, this isn’t Wall Street,” the man said “we have a little something called integrity!” He turned to Grace and said “Please, Mrs. Drake, I’ll be more than happy to take your case, if you’ll just step into my office.”

“I’d rather not,” Grace said “I’m very upset at the moment.”

“Please, Mrs. Drake, I insist. I’m one of the partners in this firm and I can help.” He insisted and motioned through the door of his office. She nodded and followed him inside.

“Janet,” the man called over his shoulder “could you fetch Mrs. Drake something to drink?”

“Right away.” A blonde woman said and got up. She walked into the man’s office just as he walked inside and Grace sat down. “Mrs. Drake, what can I get you? Tea, water, coffee?”

“Tea please.” Grace answered and Janet scurried away, shutting the door behind her.

“Name’s Crowley by the way,” the man said “Crowley McCloud.”

“Grace Drake.” Grace answered and briefly shook his hand.

Once Janet returned with the tea, Grace and Crowley set to work on drawing up the divorce papers.

“Besides violence and irreconcilable differences,” Crowley said after twenty minutes of taking notes “is there anything else you want to add to the reason you’re divorcing Kenneth?”

Grace realized she had an ace in the hole. Kenneth not only having an affair, but an affair with a man, would ensure her a quick and uncontested divorce. Then a lump formed in her throat, society wasn’t kind to men like Kenneth and William. She’d ruin the business they’d started from the ground up. All of the blood, sweat and tears they��d poured into getting their now thriving firm off the ground would be for not.

“No,” she said with finality in her voice “I have nothing else to add.”

“Have you got somewhere to stay while we work through these proceedings?” Crowley asked and she nodded.

“Staying with a friend.” She told him.

That night, Grace curled up next to Dean on the couch. She’d told him everything about talking to the attorney while he held her hand.

“He’ll be served with the papers tomorrow,” She told him, her thumb running over his knuckles “with any luck, he’ll sign, we’ll go in front of a judge and then we’ll be done.”

“Why do I get the feeling it’s not gonna be that simple?” Dean asked, his free hand running through her hair.

She sighed

“Because nothing we try to do ever is.” She said and looked up at him with a sad smile.

“What’s wrong beautiful?” He asked

Tears formed in her eyes and she asked

“Why didn’t we just run like we said we were going to?”

“Sweetheart,” he started but she interrupted

“We could have just told everyone to shove it and done what we wanted, then things wouldn’t be like this.” She sobbed and he held her closely while she cried.

He waited until she calmed down and then said

“You know why we didn’t. I had to go and I wouldn’t leave you all by yourself.”

She hugged him tightly.

“I just want out.” she said quietly.

The next day, William showed up at Dean’s practice and asked to speak to him. Dean was hesitant at first but then William said

“It’s about Kenneth.”

Dean nodded and showed William into his office. Dean closed the door behind them as William sat down in one of the chair opposite Dean’s desk. Once Dean was settled in his chair, William spoke.

“The courier delivered Grace’s divorce papers this morning,” he said “at the office.” Dean nodded and William went on “To day that Kenneth was upset is an understatement.”

Dean’s eyes widened

“He didn’t-?” Dean asked and cut himself off before finishing the question and William shook his head.

“No, he didn’t hit me or anyone else.” William said “He told me what happened between him and Grace and I’m so disgusted with him.” Dean watched as William’s jaw twitched in anger. “Grace is a wonderful lady, truly, most women wouldn’t be as understanding as she is and he had no right to do what he did.”

“That’s putting it politely.” Dean said in a clipped tone and William nodded.

“I know,” William said “but you gave him quiet the wallop and I think that got the message across.”

It was Dean’s turn to nod

“I wanted to kill him,” Dean said “you didn’t see what I saw.”

“You’re right, I didn’t,” William said “but I saw the aftermath and realized it had to have been pretty bad.”

“Now that’s out of the way,” Dean said “want to tell me what you’re doing here?”

“I came to ask if you think we could get Grace and Kenneth together so they can talk.” William said and Dean shook his head no.

“Not happening.” Dean said “She wants a divorce and the best thing Kenneth can do right now is just sign the papers and let her go.”

William chewed on his lip

“That’s where the hiccup lies,” William said “Grace and I have talked about this before. She’s really the only one I can talk to in fact.” William rung his hands in his lap “Kenneth has a hard time with how he is and how he feels about me. I went through the same thing when I first realized that I am the way I am.”

“Yeah,” Dean said “but you didn’t beat the holy hell out of your pregnant wife did you?”

William furiously shook his head

“No! Never, I’d never lay a finger on Sandy.” William said “I’m not defending him Dean, what he did was horrendous.”

“Have you seen her?” Dean asked, he was in full protection mode as William said

“No, I haven’t.”

“I was there,” Dean told him “I’m the one that pulled him off of her when he was choking her to death while he was trying to rape her.” William’s eyes went wide and Dean went on “I’m the one that picked glass out of her wounds, stitched up her lip and made sure she had somewhere safe to sleep that night. She wakes up in the middle of the night shaking because nightmares about what happened to her.” Dean eyes bore into William “Knowing that, do you REALLY think I’m going to let Kenneth anywhere near her?”

William cleared his throat and chose his words carefully before speaking again.

“Dean, you have every right to be angry, I’d be worried if you weren’t angry.” William told him “All I am asking for is a meeting between the two of them so they can hash things out. It doesn’t have to be today or tomorrow, I just want her to consider it. You and I would both be there in case things get crazy.”

Dean raked a hand through his hair and sighed.

“I’m apprehensive,” Dean said “but I’ll talk to Gracie and see what she says.”

“Thank you,” William said “that’s all that I want.”

Dean nodded

“Are you here because this is what YOU want to or is this what KENNETH wants?” Dean asked

“Yes,” William said “and yes.”

William got up and made his way to the door, reaching for the knob. Then he turned and looked at Dean

“For what it’s worth,” he said “I’m glad she has you. She’s happier than I’ve ever seen her.”

Dean nodded again before William left, leaving the door slightly ajar.

That night, Dean came home to freshly baked chicken pot pie and whiskey waiting on him.

“Here you go,” Grace said with a smile and handed him the drink “as promised, chicken pot pie.”

“If you keep living here,” he said and kissed her as he dropped his briefcase on the floor “I’m going to weigh as much as a house.”

“Oh hush,” she said and kissed him back “you’ll live to tell the tale.”

They sat down to eat and Dean waited until she had finished her dinner before telling her about William’s visit. She sat with a clenched fist while he spoke, when he was finished she sighed.

“So he wants us to get together to hash out what exactly?” She asked

“I’m not sure,” Dean said “but he and I would be there. I would also suggest a neutral ground if you want to meet up with him. You don’t have to, you don’t owe him anything any more.”

She nodded and sat with her hand over her mouth

“I have to think about it,” she finally said “I’m not ready right now.”

“I know you aren’t.” He said and stretched his hand across the table to take hers “We can do it when you’re ready. If you’re never ready, then we don’t have to.”

She nodded and squeezed his hand.

“I see where William is coming from, but at the same time, I can’t even look at Kenneth.” She closed her eyes and sighed again “Jesus, I don’t know what made me think this was going to be easy.”

Dean squeezed her hand back

“I’m here,” he told her “I’ll back you up, no matter what you decide okay?”

She nodded again and opened her eyes. She let go of his hand and stood up. She walked over to him and crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her forehead.

“It’s going to be okay doll face.” He told her “I promise.”

Two weeks later; Grace finally agreed to meet with Kenneth. Under strict instructions that they not be left alone and if anything even went so much as a hair sideways; she would bolt.

The meeting took place at William’s house while Sandy had taken the children to her parent’s house for the weekend. Grace took a deep breath before knocking on the front door with Dean by her side. It opened a few seconds later and William let them inside, ushering them into the sitting room where Kenneth was waiting. He looked disheveled and distraught; his hair was up in all different directions, he had grown out at least three day’s worth of scuff and his clothes looked wrinkled.

“Grace.” he said, sounding relieved as she came into the room, Dean stepped between them and grabbed Kenneth’s elbow.

“You so much as touch a hair on her; I will break you.” Dean muttered in Kenneth’s ear.

Kenneth backed away, shocked. He was about to give a smart ass retort about how Dean was sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, but then he got a good look at Dean’s face. His expression was murderous; he looked ready to snap Kenneth’s neck before he could blink. Remembering the swift and concise ass kicking he'd received, Kenneth simply nodded as he followed Grace into the sitting room. William and Dean hung out toward the door jamb as they began to talk.

“You look well.” Kenneth said

Grace took off her jacket, sunglasses and scarf; the bruises he had left behind were now a nasty shade of green and starting to fade, her cuts had healed for the most part, as had her lip from where Dean had stitched it up. Kenneth’s eyes went wide when he saw the marks on her as she sighed.

“I’ve been in better shape,” she said “but thank you.”

Kenneth cleared his throat and said

“What I did was,” he paused “uncalled for.”

“That’s putting it lightly.” She said in a clipped tone.

“I’m sorry,” he said “it was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that, at all.”

Grace nodded

“I accept your apology,” she told him “but what do you want to talk about?”

He reached for a file on the table that she hadn’t noticed and held it up.

“These,” He said “the divorce papers.”

“Okay.” She said

He shifted in his seat and set the papers in front of her.

“I’d like for you to reconsider.” He said

She let out a dry, humorless laugh.

“Why on earth would I do that?” She asked “After everything I’ve put up with for three years; the long absences, the late nights, your transgressions behind my back!” She felt her blood beginning to boil “I’ve stood by you through everything and never asked for anything in return!”

“I let you-“ he started and she cut him off

“NO!” She yelled “I’m not finished!”

Kenneth backed down as Dean fought the urge to swell with pride.

“That’s my girl.” He thought, hiding a smirk.

“You didn’t LET me do anything,” she told him “for once in my life, I did something because I wanted to. Not because of you or my parents; I wanted Dean and I went after him. I’m pregnant with HIS child and I want to be a family with HIM.”

“We can’t just get divorced, what will people think of us?” He asked

“Fuck what people think!” She shouted “Make up whatever you want,” she told him “brand me with a scarlet letter like Sandy and all those other bitches did. Just sign the papers, that’s all that I want.”

“I wish it were that simple,” Kenneth said “and I’m not going to do that. I had my lawyer look over these papers and yes, while it would be cut and dry, it’s the finances that concern me.”

“You really think I want half your money?” She asked

“You’ll get it,” he said “you’re entitled to half of everything I own, including Drake and Helms Advertising.”

“May I interject?” William asked. Grace and Kenneth looked at him and he said “She’s actually entitled to half of your half, so technically she gets twenty-five percent.”

Grace sighed

“I’ll sell it back to you. Once the divorce is finalized, I’ll sell you my percentage and that will be that.” She said and he shook his head.

“It’s not just the company,” Kenneth said “when I say everything, I mean EVERYTHING. My trust fund, the house, any money I made while we were married is half yours.”

“Then how about this,” Grace suggested “I’ll speak with my lawyer and agree that you can keep everything.”

Again, Kenneth shook his head

“It’s the law dear.” He said

“So, you don’t want to divorce me because you don’t want to give up half your shit?” Grace asked.

“It’s not shit,” he told her “it’s everything I’ve ever worked for and you get HALF of it for being a-“ he cut himself off and she stared him down.

“A what Kenneth?” She asked, a venomous tone in her voice “A tramp? Let’s not forget who was cheating on whom at the start of this.”

“You have every right to be angry with me and to want to divorce me.” He said “But I can’t do this.”

“Yes you can.” She told him “Pen to paper, three strokes and you’re done. We’re both free to do what we please. I’ve never asked you for anything and this is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. PLEASE just give me this one thing Kenneth.”

He looked at her for a long time and then solemnly shook his head.

“I can’t.” He told her

Tears welled in her eyes from anger and frustration, then it suddenly dawned on her.

“You’re jealous.” She said as she stood up, gathering her things.

“What do you mean by that?!” He shouted

“It's not the finances you're worried about, you're jealous!” She shot back “You want the successful business, the perfect marriage, the perfect family, your lover on the side, and you can’t have it. That's what really has you tied up in knots!”

“It isn’t like that.” He started

“Yes it is.” She told him “I made my choice Kenneth. I’m finished; with or without a divorce, I’m gone.”

Grace turned on her heel and walked toward the door.

“I’m ready to leave.” She told Dean

Dean nodded and followed her out to the car.

The ride home was silent, Grace stared out the window for a long time, contemplating everything that had just happened. When they arrived back at Dean’s apartment, they went inside and once the door was shut, Dean wrapped Grace into his arms.

“You are so strong sweetheart,” he murmured into her ear “I’m so proud of you for standing up for yourself.”

She nodded and held him as tears fell down her cheeks.

“I can,” she said letting out a breath “I can understand if you don’t want to be a part of this any more.”

Dean pulled back and looked at her quizzically.

“What on earth does that mean?” He asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“I can’t be your wife,” she said, with her lip trembling “we won’t be a real family.”

He shushed her, his fingers caressing her face.

“I don’t care,” he told her “you don’t have to have my last name to be my real family doll face. I don’t care what any courts or papers say, you’re having our baby.” He kissed her forehead and looked her in the eyes again “If that doesn’t make us a family, I don’t know what will.”

She kissed him, tears spilling down her cheeks as she tightly held on to him.

“I love you.” She told him as she broke their kiss.

“I love you too sweetheart.” He said.

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

So, how was that?? I know this chapter was rough, but I hope you guys enjoyed it. As always, please share, like and MAYBE follow (if you want to get in on the crazy). There’s plenty of room on The Squad (my forever tag list) and for this series as well, so send me an ask or a message. See you guys for the next chapter!

The Squad:

@waywardbaby @waywardnerd67 @familybusinesswritingbro @ain-t-bovvered @mrswhozeewhatsis @girlborninstorms @dacleverfox@emoryhemsworth @bobasheebaby @salvachester@myinconnelly1 @mogaruke @imma-winchester-addict@theworldiscolorful @dean-winchesters-bacon��@animerose96@l8nit-l0vr @drakelover78 @curly-haired-disaster

#dean winchester #lady winchester writes #1940!dean #dean winchester smut #supernatural #Supernatural smut #domestic violence #attempted rape #trigger warnings #18 plus

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useyourrwords · 6 years ago

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Month in Review // The Month From Hell – March

This month has given me more breakdowns than I can count.

So maybe it’s not the single worst month I’ve ever lived but honestly, it’s pretty high up there!

Between a car accident, still going through the mess of changing names, pain, oh so much fucking pain, a new doctor who doesn’t know how to help me, and an altercation I wish to just forget, I’m just about ready to hide under my blankets and never leave my room.

Unfortunately, that’s not an option and so I am sitting at me desk at work writing this instead.

If you would like to buy any of the following books please consider using my Book Depository Affliate link!

Month’s TBR

│The Dream Thieves││

│Skylarks││

│The Surface Breaks││

│The Female of the Species│││

│Sharp Objects││

│Blue Lily, Lily Blue││

│Truly Devious││

│Khutulun│tatterhood│Agnodice│Te Puea Herangi│Moremi Ajasoro│Sybil Ludington│Kurmanjan Datka│Andamana│Mary Seacole│Florence Nightingale│Gráinne “Grace O’Malley” Ni Mháille│Rejected Princesses││

│Empress Xi Ling Shi│Hatsheput│Agnodice│Trung Trӑc & Trung Nhi│Fatima Al-Fihri│Bygone Badass Broads││

Read

│The Surface Breaks│Lousie O’Neill│││││★★★★│Read Mar 13│

This book was so unapologetically feminist, I loved it.

│The Dream Thieves│The Raven Cycle #2│Maggie Stiefvater│││││★★★★★│Read Mar 25│

I think I jumped into this book too quickly after finishing the first so it took me a while to get through it but I got there eventually.

│Truly Devious│Truly Devious #1│Maureen Johnson│││││DNF Mar 22│

I don’t think fiction audiobooks are for me! at least not ones I haven’t already read. I’m switching to Non-Fic/memoirs and I’ll try rereading a fave eventually to see how I go with that.

│I’ve Got This Round│Mamrie hart││││

After realising ficiton audiobooks weren’t for me I needed a win so I returned Truly Devious for this because i love Mamrie and there’s no way I wouldn’t love this. I was right.

│Skylarks│Karen Gregory│││││

I’ve just been super invested in this one. I don’t know if it’s because i wasn’t reading it regularly since I normally read ARCs while I’m exercising…and I’ve not been exercising like at all this month. I don’t know. I’ll give it another go next month if I have time but otherwise it’ll probably be pushed back to May.

│Rad Girls Can│Kate Schatz│││││

I switched to this ARC since it’s only 112 pages and I figured SURELY I can finish this before the month is up. Nope. So April it is!

│Empress Xi Ling Shi│Hatsheput│Agnodice│Trung Trӑc & Trung Nhi│Fatima Al-Fihri│Bygone Badass Broads│Mackenzi Lee│││││

I didn’t do much but at least I got my entries read for both of these!

Book of the Month

│The Female of the Species│Mindy McGinnis││││││★★★★★│Read Mar 31│

Once I realised just how little I read this month and made myself power through this one and omg it was soooo good and worth it. I needed this book this month.

│Average Rating: 4.5★’s│ 5│

Structured TBR Pass or Fail?

│Must Read: 3/5│ 0/1│ 0/0│ 2/2│ 3/3│ 10/10│ 5/5│

│Allowances: 1/1│ 1/1│ 0/0│ 0/0│ 0/1│

Clearly this was a terrible reading month. I got hardly any reading done. I started off relatively strong but then I stopped exercising (for reasons I’ll go into further later in this post) so that was less time spent reading. And then I spent far more time watching TV when I should have been reading because Depression. And the audiobook wasn’t really working out for me so I didn’t get that read either. FUN.

Haul

│Barbed Wire Heart│Tess Sharpe│││

I loved Far From You so when I saw this was available on Netgalley I knew I needed it! And it wasn’t even a request, just one you could immediately download and my international blogger heart is v. v. thankful.

│Vicious│Villains #1│V.E. Schwab││

│Vengeful│Villains #1│V.E. Schwab│││

If you’ve been paying attention to my hauls sections you’re probably thinking “doesn’t Grey already have both of these books and the answer to that is yes absolutely but listen.

I have the paperback copy of Vicious in the old cover art because i bought it years ago…Well my mum bought it for me years ago but same same.

Then it was announced that with the long-awaited release of Vengeful we’d get all new cover art so I knew I’d be re-buying the first no matter what.

And then the collector’s edition came out for Vicious.

So I bought that and then Book Depository listed the hardback for Vengeful as a collector’s edition and so I ordered that as a birthday present to myself.

Only I don’t actually think it is a collector’s edition because it doesn’t say so on the cover or anything but oh well.

So I finally have both books with new covers only I don’t want to read them because if I do, I’ll want to annotate them and I don’t annotate collector’s edition as a rule for myself.

So I had to buy the paperbacks. I just had to. My hands were tied. Did I really have the money to? No, but I’ve had a hard month so fuck it.

Past Grey Reads

Book Review // Girl Made of Stars – I Am Broken

Grey Reads // Everything’s On Fire and I Couldn’t Be Happier – Girls of Paper and Fire

Grey Reads // Bloody Moors & Candy Castles – The Wayward Children 2 & 3

Film & TV

Honestly I barely remember what I did actually watch.

Month’s TBW

│The Bold Type│Season 2││

│Brooklyn Nine-Nine│Season 6││

│RuPaul’s Drag Race│Season 11││

│I Am The Night│Season 1││

│The Umbrella Academy│Season 1││

│Russian Doll│Season 1││

│Sex Education│Season 1││

Watched

│The Bold Type│Season 2││2017│ Sarah Watson│ Katie Stevens, Aisha Dee, Meghann Fahy│★★★★★│

This show is so fucking good, I’m not not so patiently waiting for the third season to come out next month!

│Brooklyn Nine-Nine│Season 6││2013│ Daniel J. Goor, Michael Schur│ Andre Braugher, Andy Samberg, Stephanie Beatriz│Watching weekly episodes│★★★★★│

The episode with the murder in the apartment and the making stupid promises to the mum and Jake slowly going crazy and Rosa with a different hair style every scene??? Iconic!

│RuPaul’s Drag Race│Season 11││2009│ RuPaul│RuPaul, Michelle Visage│Watching weekly episodes│★★★★★│

Between Miss Vanjie being the narrator of the season (and maybe my fave of all time), her hoemance with Brooke Lyn Heights, Yvie’s take no shit, own your shit attitude and Plastique’s fish???? I am in love with this season.

I could do without Silky’s obnoxious everything and R. Kelly style Untucked breakdowns but whatever.

│Russian Doll│Season 1││2019│ Leslye Headland, Natasha Lyonne, Amy Poehler│ Natasha Lyonne, Charlie Barnett, Greta Lee│★★★★★│

I am in love with Russian Doll and everything about it. It’s short, it’s smart, it’s quality TV and it’s fucking funny.

│Sex Education│Season 1││2019│ Laurie Nunn│ Asa Butterfield, Gillian Anderson, Emma Mackey│★★★★★│

This show is stupid funny but it’s also super intelligent and important. This is such a good show for teens to have easy access to and I can’t wait for the new season.

│Queer Eye│Season 3││2018│ Bobby Berk, Karamo Brown, Tan France │★★★★★│

This season had me crying my eyes out and I loved every second of it.

But my favourite moment is when Jody, on the first episode, comes out for the big reveal and the guys all lose their fucking minds! Especially Karamo’s and Antoni’s reactions. They were absolutely fucking gold.

│Game of Thrones│Season 1││2011│ David Benioff, D.B. Weiss│ Emilia Clarke, Peter Dinklage, Kit Harington│★★★★│

I mean, yes I am well aware of the problems Game of Thrones have and I am trash for it anyway. Is it as amazing as I initially thought?? Not at all but I’m in too deep now I can’t just not watch the final season.

So here I am re-watching the entire show with my mum to drag it out just a little longer and hopefully by the time we’re all caught up the final season, in it’s entirety, will be well and truly out.

I just have to try and avoid spoilers until then…which should actually be very easy because of something I’ll announce in my Month Ahead post.

Me after this month.

Music

│YUNGBLUD│11 Minutes + Halsey│Loner│Falling Skies + Charlotte Lawrence│

│Dodie│Burned Out│

│Troye Sivan + Lauv│i’m so tired…│

│Noah Cyrus│Sadness│Good Cry│

│Julia Michaels│Anxiety + Selena Gomez│Happy│

│Steve Aoki│Waste It on Me + BTS│

Past Grey Watches

Grey Watches // I Hate It So Much I Love It – A Christmas Prince

Grey Watches // It Has To Be A Shit Show – A Christmas Prince: The Royal Wedding

Grey Watches // I Wanna Bone Jude Law and Kate Winslet – The Holiday

Use Your Words Highlights

Grey Reads // Bloody Moors & Candy Castles – The Wayward Children 2 & 3

Top Ten Tuesday // Audible and Overdrive Are My Lords & Saviors – My Audiobook TBR

Blogosphere Highlights

│Laura @ The Book Corps│#UNSOLVEDATHON: A BUZZFEED UNSOLVED READATHON — ANNOUNCEMENT AND SIGN UP!│#UNSOLVEDATHON BOOK RECOMMENDATIONS!│

│Elise @ The Bookish Actress│Why I’m Not Honestly That Excited for Game of Thrones: Season Eight│Eighteen Things I’ve Learned In My First Eighteen Years│

│Krystin @ Here’s The Fucking Twist│True Crime Tuesday: The Moors Murders│

│Jamieson @ Jamishelves│IF YOU LIKE THIS BOOK YOU’LL LIKE THIS TV SHOW !│

│Vicky @ Vicky Who Reads│Stressed About College? These Book Recs Are For You!│

│Ellyn @ Allonsythornraxxbooks│5 TIPS ON ANNOTATING YOUR BOOKS!│

│Marie @ Drizzle & Hurricane Books│10 YA BOOKS DEALING WITH ANXIETY│

│Avery @ Red Rocket Panda│DOWN THE TBR HOLE | USING THE #KONMARIE METHOD FOR MY PHYSICAL SHELVES│

│Fadwa @ Word Wonders│#DIVERSEBOOKBLOGGERSDISCUSS: THE FANTASY OF HISTORICAL ROMANCE│(SOME) BOOK BLOGGING PRESSURES & HOW TO FIGHT THEM│WORD WONDERS’ TBR EXPANSION: BOOKS WITH EAST AND SOUTH EAST ASIAN MAIN CHARACTERS│MY PRODUCTIVITY TOOLS – OR HOW TO BE A MASTER ORGANIZER!│

│Aurora @ Aurora Librialis│5 Book Quotes for International Women’s Day│

│Swetlana @ The Caffeinated Bookworm Life│6 Reasons To Watch On My Block│

│Qui @ The Black Lit Queen│Diversity vs. Representation|BLQ Quick Guide│

│Madeline @ Caffeine & Writing Dreams│How to Write Scenes that Balance Plot & Character // Scene and Sequel Sequences│

Past Month In Review

Month in Review // Christmas is Over Thank Fuck – December

January in Review // I Cried, Laughed, Ate Pasta, Celebrated My Birthday & Completed TWO Read-A-Thons/Challenges

Month in Review // I FINALLY CHANGED MY NAME – February

Month’s Goals

Get my mental health plan

Book a therapy session I have to wait until April ahhhhhhhh

Get a massage from mum —I just always forget okay

Try and take a mental health day

Try and take a mental health day later in the month

Keep my shit together —HAHAHAHAAHAHAHA

Start journaling —I will get to this eventually…

Quit soft drink

Start floor exercises—I keep adding this and never get around to it. —I couldn’t even go for my walks for most of the month so…

Try and read 5 books —I can’t even say I tried.

Don’t waste all my time on The Sims

Go to Writers Week

Considering how shit this month was I count 7/12 goals reached a fucking accomplishment!

My Nightmare Month

So it started well enough. I went to Writers Week on two different days and thoroughly enjoyed myself! but then i got into a car accident on the way to my third day.

Which was stressful and anxiety inducing. It’s been a nightmare to work through all the aftermath. I didn’t know if the accident would be covered by insurance or if I would even hear from the person who hit me. And then when I did get the good news of being covered I basically had to micromanage the insurance company because they did everything slow and I couldn’t afford slow. So that was loads of phone calls which is something that causes me anxiety so YAY.

It’s mostly all sorted out. I still need to take my plates in and get a refund on my rego which I tried to do a couple days ago and got frustrated so that’s a task for another day.

I did get to go to the Fringe Festival and see Daniel Sloss’s new comedy special which was absolutely brilliant! He talked about rape culture and really put the onus on men and how they need to work and go out of their way to think critically of themselves and society and what they can do to dismantle rape culture. I laughed and sobbed. My mum nearly pissed herself laughing and it was a great night out with to die for Sri-Lankan food hot buttered squid will blow your fucking mind! and I discovered that I like to drink Pimms.

Throughout the month I’ve still been sorting out my name change because that is a long and drawn out process of changing my name everywhere and hitting road blocks constantly has be incredibly frustrating but I’m nearly finished!

I have also been doing all of this while in incredible pain because chronic illness.

My March mood

Basically my feet have been very painful, I knew the solution, doctor refused me, mum took me to a doctor who knows our history and I got the solution so I can actually start walking regularly again which will help my mental health loads.

My mum also took me to replace all of my shoes which was both expensive and needed so I have the best shoes for walking and working and running around doing errands and going out!

I was ready to end the month on a positive. Sure the start had rattled me a lot, and I was big depressed because of pain for most of it but I did have a few great experiences and I’d resolved almost all the long running issues.

And then while I was waiting for mum to finish work a couple of days ago, I sat and read in the foodcourt.

A man approached me and invaded my personal space and stared at me, knowing it would make me uncomfortable, so uncomfortable that it distracted me from the fact he was trying to steal my purse.

Thankfully I noticed at the last minute and grabbed it back because I would have been a fucking mess if I had gone to all the trouble replacing everything in my purse with my new name on it, only to have to do it all over again because someone stole my it all.

The man walked off but I would be lying if I said it didn’t terrify me. The way he stared at me was so unnerving and I don’t handle people being in my personal space…like at all. Even people I know and trust have to always ask permission first. I don’t let men I know in my personal space at all because I know what men are capable of. But to have a man I don’t know get in my face with the purpose to make me uncomfortable, especially after the month I’ve had, was enough for me to completely come undone.

I’m thankful for the cleaner for checking up on me, even though I burst into tears, and I’m thankful for the girl who approached me after as well to try and be supportive.

She had fire in her eyes and in that moment I had wished that that was what I looked like instead of the girl I was, not being able to hold back tears and trying to keep calm in the middle of an anxiety attack.

More than anything, I’m thankful for my mum for being so supportive and understanding and being exactly what I needed her to be and for calling out the men who made things worse, while trying to help, when I didn’t have the strength to.

I’ve argued with myself on whether to share this and maybe I might delete it all before it gets published, but I think it’s important for women to share their experiences with how men have preyed upon them, whether sexually or not, and how men continue to use their power to get what they want from us, regardless of the negative impact it has on us.

I just—girls, women, know that if something like this happens to you, if something worse happens to you, it’s not your fault, it’s never your fault. The way you react to it is right because it’s your experience and your emotions. I’m trying to remind myself of that.

And men, know that if you’re not actively trying to stop this shit from happening, aren’t pulling your friends up for those gross comments they make, then you’re part of the fucking problem. I don’t want to hear that you personally would never do this. That shit isn’t enough. It’s never been enough. This all lies at your feet and fuck you for helping to hold up a society that makes us think any of it is our own fault.

And if something like this happens to a girl or woman you know then ask her what she needs, ask her the best way for you to help. Because nine times out of ten the way you react naturally is going to be the complete fucking opposite of what she needs and you might make things worse. And that’s on you, not her.

Past Month Ahead

Month Ahead // Happy Birthday To Me + Hiatus Announcement – January

February Ahead // I’m Finally Going To Read The Raven Cycle Series & It’s Black History Month + A Great Resource for Education!!!!!

Month Ahead // Writers Week, Comedy & Too Much To Do – March

Thank fuck March is over.

What did you do this month? What did you read? What did you watch? What posts did you write that you’re super proud of?

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