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mae-gi-writes · 4 years ago

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Once Again (PT.I) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN : PART ONE

Summary: Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother.

Genre: fluff, slight angst, f!reader x dad! Iwaizumi

A/N: There will be 2 or 3 parts of this oneshot! Depending on how long I feel like writing. Thanks for checking it out and stopping by! Let’s dive into some Iwa moments :,)

NEXT PART -->

---

“What’s your return policy on rings?”

The saleswoman smiles sympathetically behind the counter. That stupid sympathetic smile he’s been getting for weeks on end now. And it never stops; with his co-workers, with his family, his friends...

Iwaizumi’s sick of it. He’s sick of having to prove that he’s doing just fine, thank you very much. When in truth, his heart is constantly being torn apart and stomped upon as is people have nothing better to do than torture him in their free time.

“I’m sorry, but these rings have been brought more than three years ago, and our warrant only lasts for three years,” the saleswoman keeps on talking but it doesn’t matter, for Iwaizumi can already feel the anger slowly creep up through the back of his neck, can already feel the vibrating emotions clogging up his sense of judgement.

His fists clench at his sides upon impulse, the physical pain of his nails driving into his palms enough to remind him to stay cordial. It’s not the woman’s fault, the better part of him chants, it’s not her fault at all.

“Fine,” he manages to grovel out, barely, “thanks anyway.”

He all but storms out of the shop while shoving the rectangular box back in his pant pocket, and though it’s been more than four months since his ugly divorce with the woman he’d hoped to share the rest of his life with, the weight of their promise hangs heavy and hot upon his thigh.

The thing is, Iwaizumi is mad. He is seething. If one were to give him a bat, he’d probably destroy the entire town by himself. Not because she was the one that cheated, not because she was the one going behind his back numerous times a week to seek out her lover when he’d been basically driven mad between Hoisuke’s cries and the stress of call meetings scheduled back to back.

No, he’s angry. Because how the fuck could she do this to Hoisuke? How can she break the child’s heart like that, so ruthlessly, without even thinking twice about the consequences?

Because if there is a victim in all this, then it’s definitely Hoisuke. And not only that, Hoisuke understands that his mother has been acting strange, that she doesn’t return at regular times and that her hugs now smell of cigarette smoke with a bittertaste of alcohol.

Iwaizumi is so caught up in anger that he almost blunders past his battered Hyundai, red and chipping away at the corners. Still, this car holds so many memories, the good and the bad ones.

“Can’t you get a newer car? I thought your company could sponsor you,” the ghost of his wife’s voice echoes through his head, a blatant reminder of all the things she’d found wrong in his life.

“Why?” he’d tilted his head around to fix his gaze on her figure bending over the sink. The TV was playing in the background and he thanked the gods that the morning comics were taking up Hoisuke’s attention, enough to distract him from his parents’ quibbles.

“It’s just--so old and tacky.”

“It still works well, doesn’t it? Why change it now?”

She’d paused, hesitated slightly before blundering on, “It’s embarrassing. My colleagues keep asking if we're poor or something."

"Who cares what your colleagues think?"

Fuck her, Iwaizumi mentally swears as he turns on the ignition. Fuck her and all her needs for a better life. As if the life they had wasn't more than enough. Pulling out into the street to join the incoming traffic, he blinks away the sudden tears accumulating at the corner of his eyes and swears once more, this time aloud, glad that Hoisuke isn't in his presence when he gets in such a foul mood.

Iwaixumi may be angry. He may be filled with pent-up rage from the memory still attached to the day he'd discovered a used condom in their bathroom trash. But that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

That doesn't mean he does not still cry into his pillow over it every night.

----

"Please don't forget to do your homework for tomorrow! We'll correct them before moving on to the next chapter," you call out to your students as excited chatter fills the air. Students rise from their seats, some calling you bye and waving as they all file out of the classroom and you can't help the small smile lingering over your lips even though your feet are killing you.

Outside, parents have already lined up to collect their kids, the chatter and bustle of people ebbing away down the corridor as you let out a soft sigh.

"Miss?"

You jolt, not realizing that one of your students stands by the table wringing his hands, "what's wrong Hoisuke? Dad's not here yet?"

He shakes his head, watery eyes blinking up at you as he raises his thumb to his lips. You stand quickly and motion him to come close until he's within reach before your hand smoothes over the back of his head, "it's okay. He's probably stuck in traffic. I'll wait with you."

It's not surprising that parents get tardy once in a while and you're all too accustomed to those slight change in plans. Thankfully, you manage to distract the young boy with some coloured crayons and a piece of paper while you dial for his father's number.

It keeps ringing. No one picks up.

You try once more, one more time after that. But still, nothing. It shifts to voicemail. You decide it's better than nothing, "hi Iwaizumi-san. This is Y/N, Hoisuke's teacher. I was just wondering what time you would be picking up Hoisuke? Please call me as soon as possible. Thank you."

You end the call only to spot Hoisuke's eyes on you, intent and impatient for you to explain, "it's okay," you tell him with a smile, "he'll be here soon. Don't worry. Do you want to keep colouring some more?"

Hoisuke nods, to which your smile widens. It's those special moments, where your shyest students express themselves, that your chest warms with sympathy and affection. You've been there, you know how it feels like not to be heard, and you appreciate every interaction they offer you.

Being a primary school teacher is tough, especially since it wasn't in your original plans. But the satisfaction of bringing up some of the world's future leaders cancelled out all the late nights correcting tests and scrambled weekends trying to finish off as many worksheets as you possibly could for the coming week. You can’t complain, not when you have a decent salary that keeps bread on the table and a roof over your head.

A tug on your sleeve brings you back to Hoisuke looking up at you, a scribbled drawing of what seems to be of him and his dad. You feel yourself chuckling at how he's drawn both their hair in brown spikes, erratically extravagant and yet so close to reality.

"That's really good, Hoisuke!" You beam down at him, "what do you and your dad do on weekends?"

He shrugs shyly, head averted to the side so that there's no need for eye contact. And in the shyest voice he can muster up, he says:

"Daddy brings me...to see Mama," Hoisuke's words are barely above a mumble, "they live in different houses. They can't live together anymore."

Uneasiness squeeses in your stomach, followed by sympathy for this soft-hearted boy. You had overheard some of your colleagues giggling about Hoisuke's dad being attractive and single -- a combo that teachers adore -- but that doesn't mean that the weight of his words don't lay heavy on your own conscience.

"Do you miss your Mama a lot?" You ask him softly. Unconsciously, your hand finds a way to smooth over his head.

The boy doesn't pull away. Instead, he nods, "sometimes. But it is better this way. Daddy smiles more now. And there's no one to shout and make noise."

"Are you happy, Hoisuke? With your dad?"

He nods and to your amazement grins, "daddy is funny. He tells me not to swear but when he burns the food he always swears. And then he says to shush and tells me to close my ears. He also makes me pancakes every Saturday morning before I go see Mama."

Right on cue, a figure bursts through the open classroom door and both your heads snap to see a drenched, older version of Hoisuke who looks like he just finished running a marathon.

"I'm--" he wheezes, causing you to stand in alarm and concern, "I'm sorry I'm--so late--"

"Daddy, you forgot me again!" Comes Hoisuke's statement as you ask Iwaizumi if he's okay. He shakes off your worry with a flick of his hand and a shake of his head, "I'm fine. Sorry-- there's a nasty rain outside--"

"It's okay," you reassure him as Hoisuke practically barrels into his father and almosy knocks him off his feet.

"Sorry Hoisuke," you watch Iwaizumi's hardened features soften ever so slightly as he ruffles his son's hair. Then, looking back up at you as you bring over Hoisuke's backpack, he says, "thank you. For looking after him."

"It's no problem, honestly. We had fun didn't we?" You grin down at your student and are delighted to find Hoisuke grinning back up at you, albeit shyly, "I put his homework in his diary. He'll need to complete it for tomorrow so that he doesn't fall behind in class."

His father nods, "alright. Thanks."

"Daddy, your hair looks atrocious," Hoisuke says, tugging onto his shirt.

"Atrocious huh?" Iwazumi's eyebrow rise, "someone was listening in their English class today."

"Atrocious means that it looks bad. Daddy, your hair looks bad."

"Thanks buddy, I knew that. Now say bye to Miss Y/N."

"Bye bye, miss Y/N," Hoisuke says, wriggling his short arm through the air as you wave back with a giggle. His father nods at you in silent thanks, makes a move to walk out of the class, only to swivel back to you just as you're collecting your bag.

"Uhm," he clears his throat, causing you to jump slightly, "yes?" You blink back at him and try hard not to stare at the way his white shirt clings to his toned chest, translucent from the rain.

"Do you need a ride?"

-----

You've known Iwaizumi since high school. Having graduated just two years later than he did, his reputation had preceded him throughout the school halls even though you'd never actually had any face to face interaction with the said man. Iwaizumi doesn't know this of course and you are adamant about keeping it a secret. But that plan seems to be unraveling before your very eyes the moment your small talk turns towards your academic history.

"You're from Aoba Johsai?" His surprised glance doesn't escape your notice, especially since that's the most reaction you've gotten out of him.

"Yeah," your eyes stay glued to the row of cars crawling through the motorway, "I remember you went there too, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"You were Aoba's ace volleyball player. Everyone knew who you were."

His silence answers you and for a moment, you fear that you might have offended him. Not that it's something to be offended about.

Before you try to scratch your brain for some kind of response -- any response -- Hoisuke pipes up from the back seat, "Daddy was famous back when he was in high school. He hit the ball like kapow! And jumped so high he can touch the sky."

"Oh? Have you seen him on camera?" You turn slightly, a small smile dangling off your lips at how adorably amazed and excited Hoisuke seems to be.

"Yeah! His spikes are so awesome! It goes pow! And it zooms! Like a cannon ball!"

You burst out laughing, "yes, your father was amazing whenever he was on the court. Every girl in our class had a crush on him."

"What's a crush?"

"Hmm, you know when you really like someone. You like like them, you want to be together with them. Like, girlfriend and boyfriend."

"Oh," Hoisuke draws out, "did you really like daddy too?"

"Yeah I did."

"What?" Iwaizumi almost chokes on his own spit at the same time traffic eases and you're glad for the distraction, for you're certain there's a scattering of colour upon your cheeks.

"Do you really like him now?" Hoisuke persists, undoubtly untouched by the embarrassment taking over his father's features and you swear that more than ever, you want to laugh at how flustered Iwaizumi looks.

You decide to play nice though and instead turn to wink at your student, "that's a secret for me to keep."

You don't have to look twice to know that the man beside you is bursting into hot flames.

-----

"Did you really like Mama before you started living separately?"

Iwaizumi swears that he's never felt so uncomfortable in his life. Not when he's had to state that he was divorced, not when he had to sign divorce papers half drunk off his ass. Not even when he'd raged after his said ex-wife after finding a tie that wasn't his own in his laundry pile.

Now is probably a good definition of what uncomfortable means.

"You're not gonna let me off the hook are you?" He steals a glance at Hoisuke from over his shoulder while stirring the vegetable curry, "yes, I really liked your mother."

"Did she?"

The word 'yes' almost slips past his mouth. Except, he isn't sure whether that's the truth and decides to shoot back with, "have you finished your homework, Hoisuke? You know it's due tomorrow. Miss Y/N said so."

"Do you really like miss Y/N?"

"What?" Iwaizumi frowns, "well--no. Not like that."

"Why?" His son whines, "I really really like Miss Y/N. She's nice to me and she never shouts. And she bakes good cookies!"

"How'd you know that?" Iwaizumi leans over to taste a bit of the sauce. Not bad, he thinks and mentally pats himself on the back. A few weeks ago, he would've probably burnt the entire house down.

"Because she bakes them every month. Every time we finish a test."

"That's nice of her."

"Yes," there's a pause as the man fishes out a bowl in which to serve the curry, "daddy, what do you do when you really like someone? Do you marry them like you and Mama did?"

"Uh--yeah. Sure."

"Then does that mean I need to marry Miss Y/N if I really like her?"

"Yup."

"Daddy!"

Iwaizumi bursts out laughing. Turning off the stovetop and bringing the bowl over to the dining table, he reaches out to ruffle his son's hair with a grin, "you're the one who has a crush on miss Y/N."

"She's too old for me Daddy," grumbles Hoisuke while scooping out two rice bowls as the pair sit down for dinner, "but she'll be good for you."

"Not that simple, buddy," Iwaizumi says as he dumps two spoonfuls of curry into his son's bowl, before doing the same with his own, "there's a difference between like and love."

A frown falls over his son's face, so like his own that Iwaizumi can't help but chuckle, "what is the difference?"

"Well, when you really like someone, you might want to get to know them better. Or play with them andd shit--stuff like that. When you love someone, it's..." he hesitates, "it's different."

"Why?"

There goes that innocent question that punctures his chesy a little too deeply. The brown-haired man steadies his gaze upon the calendar fixed on the wall opposite him as he answers with:

"When you love someone, you want to live with them. You want to start a family with them. Their happiness," his brown orbs switch back to his son's focused attention, "their happiness is all that matters."

Maybe it's the fact that he's not used to speaking so truthfully about such things. Maybe it's just Hoisuke who suddenly realizes the layers hidden beneath his father's poker-faced exterior. But for a moment, neither of them speak, as if bewitched by a silencing spell if broken by the scraping of cutlery against porcelain.

"Did you love mama?"

Hoisuke's voice is small, fragile. So fragile that Iwaizumi pauses just as his spoon reaches his mouth, glancing over at his boy. His beautiful boy.

"Yeah."

Another short pause. "Did she love me?"

"Of course she did," Iwaizumi's face softens. To be honest, Hoisuke hadn't showed any kind of restraint during the entire divorce procedure, had merely accepted things as they had unfolded before his very eyes. But sometimes, Iwaizumi fears his son might be keeping more from him than he lets on.

He ressembles his mother a lot in that sense.

"Then," wet coffee-coloured eyes blink up at him, lips trembling with a hoarse whisper, "why'd she leave?"

Before his father can say anything, the young boy bursts into tears.

Iwaizumi rushes over, clasping Hoisuke in his embrace as the child buries his face into his neck and cries and cries and cries. His little heart beats like wild horses and with every sob echoing through hid body, Iwaizumi feels his own heart break over and over again. One of his hands rub comforting circles of Hoisuke's back, while the other smoothes over the back of his head as he murmurs soft nothings in hopes that it will calm down the young child.

"I want--" Hoisuke's voice is thick with tears, "I want Mama--"

"Shh, hey it's okay," Iwaizumi murmurs out, "s'alright kiddo. I got you."

Hoisuke falls asleep eventually, the soft sniffles dying out into even breaths as he slumps against his father’s shoulder, probably tired out from his earlier emotions. Iwaizumi takes this as his chance to tuck the boy into bed, glad that he’d listened to the small subconscious in his head telling him that Hoisuke would be falling asleep sooner rather than latter.

As he smoothes over his son’s hair, a part of him wonders how much Hoisuke is still silently hurting from his mother’s departure. He can’t imagine it; suddenly changing lives like you’ve merely changed your bed sheets and Iwaizumi had been so caught up in his own heartbreak, in his own bout of silent rage, that he’d forgotten that along the way, Hoisuke was also a victim to their endless fighting, the cold war that had broken his family apart.

He wishes he can take the pain away, ease it somehow. But it’s not that simple. The truth is, no one can actually predict how a heart gets broken, nor when it does. The only evidence are the repurcussions. And it’s only now that Iwaizumi gets to see it truly take its form.

Leaning over to press a soft kiss to Hoisuke’s forehead, Iwaizumi murmurs his silent goodnight before walking out and gently closing the bedroom door behind him.

He leans onto the hard wooden surface and rubs his eyes. It is only upon pulling them away that he takes notice of the family photograph hanging on the opposite wall, frozen smiles wrapped up in lies.

He really needs to take that down.

-----

771 notes · View notes

chaoticintellectual · 3 years ago

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tips from an adhd college student

- Use physical notebooks. you can listen somewhat better while doodling than while scrolling tumblr. trust me.

- get sturdy notebooks. it’s so easy to end up with crumpled and torn out notes at the bottom of your backpack. If you have a tendency to always grab the wrong notebook (because you can’t find the right one), get a big multi-course notebook instead of separate ones, and just make a section for each of your courses.

- get a document pocket for paper handouts. they might pile up and be a little messy, but at least they should be able to stay more or less intact in you bag.

- FILL OUT YOUR SHIT AS SOON AS YOU CAN. The advantage of college is that they tell you all the due dates in the syllabus, right at the beginning. So your homework for the first week of the semester is to take 3 or 4 hours to just. do it all at once. NEVER wait until you’re actually given the assignment, or get reminded by your teacher to jot it down. Take advantage of early-semester motivation, and boost your whole semester from the get-go. Ideally, the only times you should actually write in your planner/agenda after the first week is if you get extensions on the deadlines.

- Use the first page of your notebook to write down your teacher’s name, email and office hours/location, your TA’s name, email and office hours/location, and all of the course’s assignments with their due dates and grade weight. It’s easier than always referring back to the syllabus.

- USE A MONTHLY PLANNER. rather than a weekly or daily agenda. Or get both, if you’re feeling bold. Just make sure to get at least some sort of calender-style page, where you can put the whole month’s worth of due dates, and see with just one look how many deadlines you have and how close together they are. Get one to bring to class, and one to hang on your wall.

- Get a notes buddy. You know damn well that you’re going to give up on proper note taking after a week. Maybe skip a class or two. You should definitely try your best, but like. If you can get someone to help push you and fill the gaps, you’re going to do a lot better. Be a good sport, though. Don’t leech--just try to find someone willing to compare/complement your notes. So you can both improve.

- identify your shit. put your name and school email/phone number on all of you planners and notebooks and textbooks and also your hats and jackets and umbrellas and anything you might forget somewhere. i still miss that rainbow umbrella :(

- dont put up with teacher bullshit. If your professor doesn’t have a reasonable late work policy, drop the course. If the teacher doesn’t want you to succeed, drop the course.

- and last but not least, forgive yourself. You will miss readings, and minor assignments, and you will get lost in the shitty administrative process, and have weaker semesters, maybe even fail some courses, but that doesn’t make you stupid, or mean that you’ll never get anywhere. Just keep moving, and salvage what you can, and hang onto the professors who believe in you.

#adhd #college

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carolineworld · 4 years ago

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10-12-2020 The Ferris Wheel FIC

IN AO3

Thursday, December 10th, 2020

Driving to this place feels weird. It’s his second year in University, he’s what in America they could say as a Sophomore, he’s very much an adult now. Going back to his old high school makes him feel weird like he doesn’t belong there, but that’s what it takes to have a girlfriend that is finishing high school. And if feeling weird for a while is the cost of seeing her in person for the first time in four weeks, then he’ll take it.

Now that he thinks about it, this whole situation of waiting for her in his car brings back flashbacks. It takes him back to when no one could know about them, that was a month ago, but he’s thinking about the early days when he was still in high school and their relationship wasn’t fucked up, at least not yet.

But now it’s different. He’s waiting for her in his car, yes, but because it’s cold outside and he wants to be cozy, so he’s staying inside his black Tesla, with the heating on and listening to a nice song. Another different thing is that everyone knows about them. After getting back together they stayed in a secret relationship for a bit, to make sure that nobody from the outside could fuck them up and to gain trust and build a healthy, solid, and strong relationship that could battle the obstacles that could come.

And they are, and they did. They learned to communicate in a much healthier way, they worked very hard to strengthen their trust in themselves, in each other, in them, and they learned from their past mistakes. So now that everything is done and still working fine, they are out and public.

Being in University and having a girlfriend that is still in high school has good and bad things. The good things are that he can help her with most things she’s studying. It also helps the fact that it differentiates their social groups and personal interests, even though he’s quite happy that she gets along pretty well with his friends and he does with hers.

But the bad things are kind of bad. Like the mild jealousy, or frustration, like she likes to call it, that they experienced a few times when college boys, and girls, don’t understand the concept of a monogamous relationship and a no cheating policy. And it’s even worse when his finals week is just before hers and they have to spend a couple of weeks apart because of studying.

And that brings him to this moment. Zoë’s finals week has just finished and here he is, picking her up to go to have lunch and spend some quality time together after four painful weeks of studying and missing her.

That is why, when he sees her with her backpack on one shoulder and a big bag on the other one, her blue beret and a huge scarf that he can recognize as his and her baby blue face mask, he cannot help but smile. He gets out of the car to grab her bag and put it in the truck, while she gets in the passenger seat and takes off her mask, putting it in her school bag.

With his arm behind her headrest and a small “hello”, they share a quick and sweet kiss, resting their foreheads together afterward.

“I missed you so much these past weeks, you know that?” he says, massaging the back of her neck, whispering it close to her lips.

She has her eyes closed, and she’s leaning to his hand, but he can point at the exact moment the mischievous thought crosses her mind and her eyes open with a sassy spark. “We talked every night, and you said the same thing every time we did.”

“What, am I not allowed to miss you?” two can play this game.

Grabbing his hand in hers and putting them in her lap, she looks at him and says sweetly: “Yes, I was just joking”

Once the seat belts are securely tied and he has told her that they were going to have lunch at his house, cause he has cooked something nice for them, she asks if she can change the radio station to a more pop one so they can a have a karaoke ride, making him decide to take the long ride home.

Karaoke rides are something they have discovered quite recently. Early on in their relationship, his car was mostly for makeout sessions. Even in their first summer together, when they would go on little trips, they would mostly talk and tell stories about their friends or their past. But one day, after getting back together and getting back home from a date at their lake, Senne began to sing to a song that was playing on the radio and they began to sing along, making it a small little tradition they have whenever they get in his car. And yes, he made her sing Casanova to him a few times.

***

“Did you cook this? Be honest, I’ll know if you lie.” You could have thought that she was just hungry, but with her mouth full of tomato sauce and without even stopping to talk before eating one more bite, you can fully affirm she’s enjoying her food.

“Why are you so doubtful about it?” He’s not going to admit it, but it bugs him the fact that she doesn’t believe that he cooked this.

See, they both love to cook, but Zoë is not good at baking and cooking pastries. Surprisingly enough, Senne is, so that’s normally what he makes, breakfast food, cookies, and desserts. Therefore, the savory stuff is Zoë’s territory. She is normally the one who cooks the lunches and the dinners at the flatshare and their home dates when they don’t do it the easy way, take out.

But this time, he wanted to give her a little surprise and cook for her something he doesn’t cook. He decided that whatever he was going to make, it had to be something easy and quick and that didn’t take him so long. He finishes University only an hour earlier than her school ends, and he had to keep in mind that he had to leave a bit earlier to pick her up, so after a bit of searching, Vegetarian Bolognese spaghetti was the best dish to do.

“I don’t know, it’s not what you normally prepare.” Well, she’s almost finished so it’s easy to say she liked it.

“I know, but that does not mean I didn’t cook it myself”

Reaching for his hand on top of the table, she smiles shily. “I know, schat. Thank you for making lunch for me today. I loved it.”

***

One thing he adores about Zoë is how strong and independent she can look on the outside and how sweet and willing to be protected she is.

Letting her wards down in front of him, especially after all she’s been through, hasn’t been easy, but when she finally trusted him enough to let him see her fully, emotionally talking, was one of the greatest days in their relationship, for him, at least.

In the whole process of getting to know each other again, after the breakup, regaining trust in each other was one of the most important things they did. They needed to learn to trust in each other again and more importantly, feel safe and loved in each other’s one arms.

It hasn’t been an easy process, and there are times that they have to reassure each other and remember things to the other one in the low times, but it's so worth it if he gets to have her trust him completely.

After lunch and cleaning the dishes (the dishwasher did, but still), they decided to lay down and talk about their day, a bit more. Without even realizing it, they eventually fell asleep, taking a nap in each other's arms. And now, Senne is fully awake and looking at the love of his life snuggled up in his chest, thinking how he managed to make such an amazing woman like her, fall in love with someone like him.

With her head in his chest and her hand grabbing his hoodie in a fist, he can fully say that this sight right there is one of his favorite things ever. Only topped but her smile and kisses and his car.

She begins to stretch under his touch, making cute little noises. If that wasn’t enough to make him melt, she reaches out to kiss the closest spot on his neck and whispers a small ‘hi’, pulling him closer.

“Did you sleep well?” he says: kissing the top of her head and fixing the messy blanket, their blanket, around her body.

After hearing her “mhm” and feeling her little nod, he understood that she was not going to wake up any time soon. Not that he’s complaining. “How did your exams go? I think I didn’t ask you.”

“You did, actually, and they were okay. Aced Biology, like always, but Math was so hard. Even with your help, I felt like it was way harder than what we learned.” She’s now on top of him and is playing with his hair with one hand while biting her thumb with the other. That nervous tick she has is one of his favorite things, how she does it unconsciously, without even noticing she’s doing it.

He gently removes her thumb from her mouth and places his hand in hers, like he always does. “I’m sure it went okay, you’re smart, you have a bigger brain capacity than me, right?”

He shoots a challenging smile, giggling his eyebrows up and down, teasing her. She growls, rolling her eyes, and pulling softly the back of his hair, which makes his eyes go dark at the same time a sassy smile appears on her lips.

***

“Can we please go out?” She’s in the rocking chair in front of the big window, looking at the lights in the street. Her hair is still dumped and she’s wearing Senne’s hoodie, the one from this morning.

It’s pretty late in the afternoon, making it dark outside. They have spent all day fooling around and showering together as he loves. After that, they ate some more, played games, and continued watching the tv show they exclusively watch when they are together.

“Why? Outside it’s really cold and here inside the house there’s a ton of stuff we can do.”

She knows she is his biggest weakness. Not because he is head over heels for her, that he is, but because he has specifically said it. He didn’t know that saying that out loud, and to her, was going to end up being a weapon she’s able to use against him, along with her puppy eyes.

“Come on, please? I want to see the Christmas lights, they put them up last week and I haven’t seen them yet.”

Making her stand up just to take her place in the chair and sit her on his lap, he whines and says: “Zoë, it’s only 3ºC outside, we are going to catch a cold. Or even worse, covid. Do you know how many people there are on the streets because of the lights?”

Big mistake, he has challenged her. “Okay, first of all, 3ºC it’s not that cold, we can wrap ourselves warm. Second of all, we will wear our masks all the time. And third of all, we’ll go to the more empty streets. There’s a solution for everything, come on.”

He completely forgot the fact that she’s not only way smarter than he is, but she is also so freaking stubborn, and she’s pouting at him, so he knows she’s winning, like always.

“I’ll even buy you a hot chocolate to drink here if you want.”

“Yeah, deal.”

***

Antwerp is beautiful at Christmas. This year, because covid, there’s no Christmas Market, but the streets are decorated with Christmas trees and a bunch of beautiful lights.

He was right, there are too many people for the fact that there is a pandemic going on, but as Zoë said earlier, they are walking around the less crowded places, and they are wearing their masks, so it is okay.

This global pandemic is now part of their history together. Even though it has brought so much sadness and very difficult times to a lot of people, they kind of have to thank it.

Having to go on a mandatory lockdown, in his house, alone, made him think a lot more, as he was only and completely with himself. He had another girlfriend at the time, yes, but it was different.

To begin with, it started the wrong way. He and Zoë had just broken up, and he fell into a rabbit hole he didn’t know how to get out. He was deeply sad, almost depressed, and coping the best (worst) he knew: drinking and partying as much as he could, and ‘blocking’ his emotions, transforming himself into a man unable to feel.

Max and Daniel, his friends, tried to help him as best as they knew. First, it was partying with him, then it was trying to make him talk about it, make him bring out all the rage and sadness he had inside, even though it was pretty much useless. And then they tried what it ‘worked’ best: introducing him to girls that could get Zoë out of his mind, and him out of his destruction mode.

And that’s how he meets Nina. A beautiful and sweet girl that was perfect for his fucked up self. Different from Zoë, so he was forced to differentiate them, so easy to talk to that he could forget about everything else and be fun to be with. To be honest, she was the perfect rebound girl.

But then lockdown hit and he was forced to be with his mind and no one else. As cliche, as it sounds, being completely alone, did him so well. He was able to identify his toxic mechanisms, in his past and current relationship, and saw that he indeed needed help, as Zoë proposed in one of the many times they made up before breaking up. It also made him mature a bit more, as he had the time to analyze all his reactions and behaviors and see where, how he needed to work on.

It didn’t go as well as he thought it did, as he had to be honest and come clear to her afterward, but after all the mess he caused, he broke up with Nina and got back together with what he believes it’s the love of his life.

Now that he thinks about it, breaking up did them good. He got time to mature and work on his issues, and she got time to deal with her problems alone and become even stronger and more independent. It was painful, and it took him a long time to understand why, but it was worth it.

“Look! Do you remember?” He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t realize where they were walking. He has his arm around her shoulders, with their gloves covered, hands intertwined. She was the one leading the way, he was just walking beside her, so it’s a nice surprise to see where they have ended up.

The big Ferris Wheel rises upon them, making memories return to their minds, and butterflies play in his stomach. That wheel means a lot to them, and this specific spot holds so many memories together. On the other side of the river, their first date, even though, till this day, she still refuses to call it a date. Right in front of the wheel, their first kiss. It’s not all happy things, this same place holds the ‘bottle’ fight and the following argument they had. But they were memories still, and bits of their rocky, but a passionate love story.

The fact that they have to wear masks bothers him, cause he would love to kiss her, recreate that mind-blowing first kiss they shared so long ago. But the mask makes him focus on her eyes, what he can see, and it’s amazing how many emotions he can see in hers.

“I love you, Zoë Loockx, so damn much.”

“I love you, too, Senne.”

A day, and especially a moment and a place like this, is worth immortalizing.

#my fanfics #wtfock #zoe loockx #senne de smet #zoenne

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tradgicworks · 3 years ago

Text

Heartfelt: P-2 Heavy Meddle

Anna Hjarta finds herself as the sole witness of a strange disappearance. She decides to help find the missing student, despite how much her academy wants to keep it a secret.

WORD COUNT - 6030

Fast paced heavy metal music blared out of Anna’s headphones. Her short dirty-blonde hair bobbed up and down to the fast paced rhythm. Her grey-blue colored eyes scanned the floor as she picked up any trash that was left behind. She brushed her bangs out of her face revealing a faint scar that ran from her left cheekbone all the way through her left brow. Her music was interrupted by the ringtone of her phone. She tapped her phone and answered the call.

“Yeah?” Anna asked as she continued picking up trash.

“Hey, Anna,” Another volunteer’s voice responded. “I finished up where I’m at. Everyone else is done too, we’re gonna head back for today.”

“Cool. I got the keys with me, I’ll finish here then head back myself. You guys have a good night.”

“Don’t overdo it Anna. Goodnight,” The volunteer said before hanging up the phone.

Her music roared back to life. Anna sighed as she looked at her nearly full trash bag. She pulled down her headphones and turned them off. She laid the bag on the floor and swept the remaining bits of trash into the bag with her leg. She tied the bag up and carried it to the dump.

Despite the academy’s strict rules, disobedience was inevitable- especially the week before winter break. For some reason or another, the academy had a policy of having Juniors and Seniors take their finals early. This was done in order to “encourage the active pursuit of future academic endeavors”. Most students took it as a chance to apply to college, scholarships, or internships. While others treated it as an early vacation or an excuse to party in secret. The abandoned auditorium especially was a hotspot for delinquents. Due to the lack of manpower the academy could not afford to routinely survey the theater during the last week of classes, their focus was on finishing up the preparations for the graduation ceremony after all. As such the troublemakers rebelled in relative comfort, often leaving huge messes. Ultimately, it would be up to the older students to take it upon themselves to volunteer and clean up the mess. Anna Hjarta included.

Anna heaved the trash bag into the dumpster and shut it closed. She took off her work-gloves with a satisfied look. Thunder faintly growled behind her. The sound of rain wafted into her ears.

“Mph,” She thought to herself as she checked her backpack. “I forgot my umbrella.”

Anna stuffed her headphones and gloves back into her bag. She glanced outside through a dirty window. The light of the campus walkway was barely visible through all the rain. Anna frowned and flipped a switch on the wall. The work lights that lined the halls of the auditorium blinked into darkness. Her body froze as she heard a shrill scream echo through the pitch black halls.

“Is someone there?” Anna called out in a hush tone.

She was met with silence.

The muffled sounds of teary cries for help crawled into her ears as she waited for a reply. She flipped the lights back on and ran towards the sound.

“Are you okay?!” She yelled out while trying to find the source of the struggle.

One last shriek rang out before being snuffed short. Anna found herself at the doors of the theater. She tried to open them but felt a strange resistance hold them shut. She slammed against them until they finally swung open. She shook her phone and its flashlight turned on. She found herself in the empty theater, the draped curtains fluttering softly. She surveyed the room in confusion and let out a deep sigh after searching for a few moments.

“I need more sleep,” She muttered.

Anna turned around and began to head back towards the dorms. Her shoe kicked against something and sent it gliding across the floor. She flashed her light at it and noticed a sparkle in the corner of her eye. She walked towards it and picked it up. In her fingers was a small golden bangle bracelet.

“Devoted to our pride and joy, Sophie,” Anna read out the cursive that was written across the back of the bracelet.

. . .

Anna flinched awake to the blare of her phone’s alarm. She sat up and looked at her surroundings groggily. Articles of old clothes laid scattered all across the floor. Her desk was stacked high with medical textbooks- some open, almost all riddled with sticky notes. Her bag hung from the door knob with Sophie’s bracelet attached to it by the zipper.

Anna slowly got out of bed. She walked to the bathroom and began to brush her teeth. When she finished she rinsed out her mouth and splashed some water on her face. She looked in the mirror, her scar had become an ugly streak that burned through her face. She traced it lightly with her fingers and frowned. She pulled out a small makeup bag from underneath her vanity. Layer after layer, she applied makeup on her scar until it returned to the faint seam that it was before. She gave a slight smile as she observed her handiwork. The academy’s morning announcements buzzed to life as she finished up.

“Good Morning, students,” Dr. Ward’s, the headmaster, soothing voice called out. “Yesterday’s rain proved to be heavier than was originally forecasted. Be careful when going between classes as staff have reported significant amounts of mud from the downpour. Furthermore, yesterday also marked the most amount of curfew violations in the academy’s history. A fact that brings me much disappointment. The students who violated the curfew will be called to my office to receive a punishment. You know who you are and you will be contacted privately. Let this serve as a reminder to the rest of the student body that this kind of behavior will not be tolerated again. Now, for today’s agenda…” Dr. Ward began reading out the remainder of the dull announcements.

Anna put away her makeup bag. Her phone began to buzz. She picked it up and read the screen.

“Anna Hjarta. Please report to Dr. Ward’s office at-” Anna raised a brow.

She threw on the cleanest uniform she could find and grabbed her bag as she walked out the door.

. . .

The headmaster’s office was built at the highest point of the campus. Curved stairs lead up to the main entrance. A ramp sloped downwards and cut through the middle of the stairs, allowing access into the library on the bottom floor. Colorful flowers and well maintained shrubs all sprinkled with water droplets from the rain decorated the entrance. Anna made her way to the headmaster's office.

“Excuse me,” She said as she walked inside.

Dr. Ward’s office was incredibly organized. Her large desk was filled with papers- all stacked into neat piles. Two bookshelves filled with all sorts of books, awards, and gifts stood behind her. On the wall was a display case with a beautiful ceremonial dagger stored inside. Behind her was a large window that allowed for a majestic view of the entire campus.

“Anna,” Dr. Ward smiled. “Have a seat.”

“You wanted to see me?” Anna said as she sat down.

“Yes, I did. I wanted to see you and Eva,” Dr. Ward gestured at Eva who sat in the chair next to Anna.

Dr. Ward sat down and opened her laptop. The door to her office swung open and a tall warden walked in with a cup of coffee.

“Thank you, Caroline,” Dr. Ward smiled as she set down the cup.

Caroline replied with a curt nod. Her green eyes were locked into a permanent glare. Her brunette hair was tied into a tight bun. She wore the Warden's uniform which consisted of combat boots, neatly pressed pants, a long sleeved button up shirt with a tie, and a blocky hat. Caroline specifically, wore a small badge and a large coat over her shoulders like a cloak as an imposing way of signifying her position of authority amongst the Wardens.

“I have been informed that both of you entered the dorms after the curfew, is that correct?” Dr. Ward asked while quickly typing.

“That’s correct,” Anna said casually.

“Yup,” Eva clicked her tongue.

“Hmm,” Dr. Ward glanced at the two before continuing to type. “Would you mind enlightening me over why you entered the dorms so late?”

“Lost track of time,” Eva said.

“I was helping clean up the auditorium, my group was scheduled for yesterday and I stayed after to finish up. I ended up getting caught in the rain though,” Anna explained.

“I see,” Dr. Ward said as she typed. "Was there anyone else with you, Anna?"

“There shouldn't have been, everyone else went back early. I only stayed after because I had the keys.”

“Did you notice anything strange on your way back?" Dr. Ward asked.

“What do you mean by strange...?” Anna asked slowly.

“Yesterday there was some unexpected interference with the academy’s security system. Given how many students disobeyed the curfew, I wanted to make sure that no one was up to any mischief while some of the cameras were offline,” Dr. Ward drank from her coffee.

“No, not really. I mean I can’t even think of anyone crazy enough to be out in that rain on purpose,” Anna shrugged.

“You can never be too sure,” Dr. Ward pushed up her glasses.

“Well, actually, there was one thing,” Anna grabbed the bangle bracelet from her bag and held it towards Dr. Ward. “I found this.”

Dr. Ward grabbed it and investigated it. Her face tensed slightly as she read the back of it. She handed it to Caroline who didn’t react.

“Where did you find this?” Dr. Ward glanced up at Anna with a smile, but her eyes turned cold and empty.

Both Anna and Eva shifted uncomfortably at the unusual look in Dr. Ward’s eyes.

“The theater,” Anna replied.

Dr. Ward glanced at Caroline who quickly nodded in reply and walked out of the office.

“Something wrong?” Eva asked with slight meekness.

Dr. Ward’s eyes brightened to her usual comforting shine. “No, nothing is wrong. I am just upset that your more rebellious peers are still using the auditorium irresponsibly. Especially when we both know that they could be doing so much better.”

“I see,” Eva awkwardly replied.

Dr. Ward took a deep breath.

“Thank you ladies for providing some insight into what happened during the storm. Regardless of your intentions, the fact remains that both of you disobeyed the curfew. As such, you will be penalized. The school adheres to its strict guidelines after all and they must be enforced indiscriminately,” Dr. Ward took out two forms and began filling them out quickly.

“What do we have to do?” Anna asked.

“The two of you will be working as receptionists at the freshmen dorms,” Dr. Ward handed a filled out form to Anna and Eva each. “Take these to the front office of the dorm. They’ll give you everything you need and tell you what to do from there. You may leave now,” Dr. Ward instructed before returning her attention to work.

Anna and Eva walked towards the door.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Dr. Ward called out to them as they opened the door. “Try not to get into any more trouble,” She said with a gentle smile.

. . .

Anna’s gaze lingered on the empty hallways. She leaned over the receptionist counter, her cheek resting in her palm. Eva, who sat beside her, groaned and put her feet up on the counter. Anna glanced at her with annoyance.

“Stop that,” Anna said.

“What? My shoes aren’t dirty,” Eva replied.

Dried up mud crumbled onto the counter.

“Not that dirty at least,” Eva yawned.

“It’s just rude to the janitors who have to clean that up,” Anna’s gaze hardened.

“Sheesh, calm down. A little dirt won’t kill anyone. What are you some sort of neat freak?” Eva replied matter-of-factly.

“No,” Anna looked at Eva in her eyes. “I just don’t like dirt.”

Eva put her feet down and sat up straight.

“What do you mean by that?” Her eyes narrowed.

The two stared at each other. Anna grabbed a napkin and cleaned the dirt off of the counter.

“What else would it mean?” She glanced at Eva’s shoes.

“Fine, my bad for bringing in dirty shoes,” Eva took her shoes off the counter. “Sue me.”

“Thank you,” Anna nodded curtly before kneeling down to clean up the dirt.

“You’re a real bleeding heart you know,” Eva commented looking down at her.

Anna didn’t respond, she simply continued until the mess was clean.

Eva looked at her for a few moments before she gave up and went back to playing on her phone.

Anna crumbed up the napkin and threw it into a trashcan. The sound of loud banging erupted from the front doors as it fell in.

“Let me in!” A desperate voice yelled from outside.

“She’s going to break the freaking doors-” Eva growled and stood up.

She quickly walked towards the doors and swung them open just as Gwyneth was about to knock again.

“What are you doing?” Eva grit her teeth.

“Thank you-!” Gwyneth barely got the words in before trying to push her way into the dorms.

“What are you doing?!” Eva roared and shoved her back outside.

“Please- Y-You don’t understand. I need to get in I-” Gwyneth choked on her words. “Please, please, just let me in!”

“No way, you psycho!” Eva barred her from entering.

“Calm down, you’re hurting her,” Anna ran beside her and tugged on her shoulder.

“The hell I am! I’m just stopping her from getting through the door-'' Eva glanced at Gwyneth’s face. “Oh, it's you.”

Eva looked at Gwyneth’s wrists, faint bruise marks were beginning to form.

“Oh,” Eva’s frown grew annoyed.

“That’s why I told you to relax,” Anna pulled Eva behind her and looked at Gwyneth.

“Please let me in!” Gwyneth pleaded.

“Sure,” Anna grabbed her wrists gently. “But first we’re going to take care of this.”

“There’s no time I really have to-” Gwyneth said in between panicked breaths.

“There’s no option, either you come in and I help with the bruising or you don’t come in at all,” Anna gave her a stern look.

“O-Okay, but please hurry!” Gwyneth’s breathing relaxed before she exclaimed.

“I will,” Anna led her inside and behind the receptionist desk.

“Are you crazy? You’re going to take the person who tried to break into the dorms seriously?” Eva exclaimed.

“She wouldn’t be this panicked if it wasn’t for a good reason,” Anna sat Gwyneth down and looked for a first aid kit.

“Wow, I was spot on about that bleeding heart thing huh?” Eva groaned. “What if she’s here to cause trouble or stalk some helpless freshman girl?”

“You really think poorly of people you know,” Anna commented as she prepared an ice bag.

“I’m realistic,” Eva huffed.

“You’re paranoid. All I see is someone in need,” Anna kneeled in front of Gwyneth and pressed the ice bag against her wrist.

“And that’s all you need to be at their beck and call?” Eva sneered.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Anna glared at her.

Eva could only reply with an equally furious look.

“I-I’m not here to hurt anyone,” Gwyneth said meekly. “I’m here to- ah” She squeaked as Anna moved the ice bag to her other wrist.

“I’m worried about my friend, her name is Sophie,” Gwyneth said.

Eva tensed a little upon hearing Sophie’s name.

“What about your friend?” Eva grunted.

“I think she’s in trouble.” Gwyneth said sheepishly.

“No way,” Eva waved her hand dismissively. “The academy’s got security like a prison. If she was in trouble she would have been helped out by one of the Wardens.”

“I know, but I’ve called her so many times and she hasn’t responded once. She didn’t show up to our breakfast meet up and last night she seemed really worried about something,” Gwyneth said, her words growing more frantic.

“Well, maybe you’re just overthinking it,” Eva said apathetically.

“What’s your problem?” Anna glanced at her in a mix of anger and shock.

She turned towards Gwyneth and started wrapping bandages around her wrists. “Why are you so sure she’s in trouble?” Anna asked calmly.

“Sophie’s not like this. She always answers her calls, she's a polite and cheery person. She’s full of optimism and hope and she always does her best to help others. I’ve never seen her act so depressed before, so… docile. I just know something is wrong, it just doesn’t add up...” Gwyneth gazed at the floor.

“Pfft, talk about working off hunches,” Eva muttered.

“I agree,” Anna said as she finished tying her bandages.

“You do?!” Gwyneth and Eva said in unison, relief and surprise in their voice respectively.

“You know the people close to you better than I do. If you really think something is wrong, you should do something about it before you regret not doing anything at all,” Anna stood up and held out her hand. “And I’ll be here to help.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you soooooo much!” Gwyneth leaped up and hugged Anna tightly.

“Woah, okay, okay, I’m just glad I can help,” Anna chuckled. “She’s really soft.” She said towards Eva.

“And I care why?” Eva shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re helping her. What do you even want Gwy- uh... Girl?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Gwyneth let go of Anna. “My name’s Gwyneth, I’m a Sophomore.”

“I’m Anna, a Junior,” Anna replied.

“Eva, same,” Eva mumbled. “So what do you want?”

“I-” Gwyneth paused. “I was planning on visiting Sophie’s room and checking up on her.”

“What floor is she on?” Anna asked.

“Third floor, room 309,” Gwyneth replied.

“Cool, let’s go,” Anna grabbed the master key from behind the counter and headed up the stairs. “You coming, Grinch?” She asked Eva as she stopped on the first step.

“Screw you,” Eva spat before following suit.

. . .

The freshmen dorms were not the nicest on campus, mostly due to how old the building itself was. The steps led up to a view of the many hallways on each floor. Rows and rows of evenly spaced doors lined the walls. Occasional break and study rooms broke the monotony of the layout. Framed paintings of previous headmasters and photographs of the academy’s history dotted the free spaces on the wall. On the opposite end, stood an identical set of stairs leading into the floor below. Anna, Eva, and Gwyneth stepped into the third floor. Gwyneth walked ahead of them and led them to Sophie’s dorm.

“We’re here,” Anna stated as they stood in front of room 309.

Gwyneth stepped forward and knocked on the door.

“Sophie, are you there? It’s me, Gwen,” She called out.

There was no reply.

“Sophie?” She knocked again.

“She’s probably just asleep,” Eva commented.

“At six in the evening?” Anna raised a brow.

“You’d be surprised at how many people hit the hay early,” Eva yawned.

“She’s not answering,” Gwyneth turned towards them.

“Hmm, let me try,” Anna knocked on the door a little rougher than Gwyneth. “Sophie, are you in there?”

The door creaked open on her last knock.

“You broke it,” Eva scoffed.

“It just happened on its own,” Anna replied with a tinge of panic.

“Well, no use crying over it now,” Eva swung open the door and gestured for them to walk in. “After ya’ll.”

They all entered the room. Eva flicked on the light switch and the ceiling lamp hummed to a faint light. Comfy looking bed sheets sat as a messy pile on an unmade bed. The cabinets held half open drawers filled with thrown-about clothes. Makeup, perfume, accessories, and other knick-knacks once neatly organized on the shelves laid scattered across the floor. A torn apart sheet music book with ripped out pages leaned limply against a violin. Gwyneth’s gaze lingered on a corkboard that hung above her drawer. Pictures of Gwyneth and Sophie spending time together were pinned on to it. Dumb drawings that Gwyneth made in a silly attempt of explaining some of her favorite controversies were displayed like badges of honor. The letter she wrote for Sophie’s birthday was neatly held by tiny styrofoam stars. A calendar filled with pretty handwritten notes was to the left of all of that. “Dinner with Gwyneth, yay!” was circled in red marker.

“What a mess,” Eva murmured.

“It looks like someone tore up the place,” Anna said quietly.

“Sophie…” Gwyneth whimpered as she walked to the corkboard and traced her fingers over the memorabilia.

“We need to report this to the principal,” Anna said as she glanced at Gwyneth’s worried face.

“Agreed, the way this room is torn up is way too sketchy,” Eva let out a deep sigh. “The academy seems to be slipping in more ways than one.”

“That’s ominous,” Anna commented.

“Just saying, the schools vow of security ain’t looking so secure right now. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are other dorms where just about anybody can break into them,” Eva opened the closet. “We could have a real case for false advertising on our hands-” Eva’s words were snuffed into violent chokes.

A woman stepped out of the closet. Her dark gray colored eyes shone with a strange intensity. She held Eva by the neck, nearly lifting her off the ground. Gwyneth shrieked as she grabbed something to defend herself with. Anna hopped over the bed and slammed herself against the woman. The woman grunted in pain as she let go of Eva and struggled to keep her balance. Eva coughed in heavy breaths. The woman took a step forward ready to attack Anna, only to have a stapler thrown against her face by Gwyneth.

“You. Effing. Creep,” Eva yelled in a horse voice.

Eva kicked at the woman’s legs before she could retaliate and tripped her onto the ground. The woman fell with a hearty thud and her body went limp. Eva raised her foot to stomp her face but was stopped by Anna’s hand.

“What are you doing?! You’re going to kill her!” Anna screamed.

“Oh, do not make excuses for the panty stealing weirdo hiding in a sixteen year old’s closet- she deserved this!” Eva yelled back.

“But, she’s already knocked out!” Anna pushed her leg out of the way. “So, we stop!”

“Fine, Goldilocks. Have it your way, but I’m not helping you if she gets up and starts choke slamming you,” Eva rubbed her shin. “Damn, that hurt. Her legs felt like they were made out of steel.”

“W-Who is she anyways and where did you two learn to fight like that?“ Gwyneth asked.

“I kinda just threw myself at her,” Anna said matter-of-factly.

“Kickboxing is a hobby,” Eva replied. “As for the mystery woman…” Eva took out her phone and turned on its flashlight.

The light shone over the face of a Warden. The three of them stared in silence as the realization dawned upon them.

“We are so screwed,” Eva murmured with a deathly serious tone.

“WE KNOCKED A WARDEN UNCONSCIOUS?!” Gwyneth screamed.

“Shut up!” Eva put her hand over Gwyneth’s mouth. “Do you want the whole dorm to know?!”

“I-It’s fine, we can just explain to the principal what happened. T-That this was all just one big misunderstanding,” Anna said in a slightly shaky voice as she sat the Warden up as best as she could

“Oh yeah, sure, and she can kindly explain how many years in prison we’re gonna serve for assaulting a freaking police officer,” Eva gave a panicked chuckle.

“I don’t want to go to jail,” Gwyneth whimpered.

“No effing dur, girly,” Eva commented.

“Calm down, both of you. Worse comes to worst I can just-” Anna started before being cut off by the sound of a radio.

“Warden 06, can you hear me?” A staticky voice called from the Warden’s breast pocket.

Anna, Eva, and Gwyneth looked at each other. Gwyneth gestured to Anna to give her the radio. Anna tossed into her hands and she began to fiddle with it. After a few seconds she held the button to reply. White noise poured out of the radio.

“Warden 06, there seems to be some interference on your end. Do you read me?” The voice asked again.

Gwyneth tilted the radio downwards. The white noise became more chaotic.

“Warden 06, do you read-” The voice got cut off before changing into a deeper, colder, voice. “Warden 06, you are to cease your search of the target’s dorm. We have narrowed down the location of Sophie Dives to the auditorium. Rendezvous there ASAP. Failure to do so will be met with severe punishment.”

The radio went completely silent. Gwyneth took out the batteries and took a shaky breath.

“Sophie’s in the auditorium?” Gwyneth whispered.

“From the sound of it, it looks like they were trying to keep it a secret too,” Eva commented.

“I knew it,” Anna muttered.

“What?” Gwyneth asked.

“Last night, when I was cleaning up the auditorium I heard a scream. I tried to follow it, but by the time I got to the theater all I found was a bracelet with Sophie’s name on the back of it,” Anna stood up. “I think something happened to her.”

“Why didn’t you bring this up before?” Gwyneth frowned.

“Because I thought it was just a coincidence,“ Anna’s face softened. “We have to tell Dr. Ward, if she knows that the Warden’s are acting out of line she might be able to stop them.”

“Sorry to break it to you, but the Warden’s are on the CCPD’s payroll- not the headmaster’s. I doubt they give two craps about what she wants,” Eva said.

“What other option do we have then?” Anna asked.

“We have to go and help her ourselves,” Gwyneth said with a serious tone.

“Are you crazy? She’s being hunted down by the Wardens right now, y’know like actual highly trained cops. On top of that, they’re on high alert, if they find us they’ll rip us to shreds,” Eva furrowed her brow.

“Not exactly,” Gwyneth turned towards her. “I’ve heard rumors that because of all the curfew violations yesterday the headmaster is pissed off at all the Wardens. She wants to make sure that not a single student misses it tonight. Me thinks- I think that they won’t head to the auditorium until after curfew. It gives us some time to break in.”

“You really believe those stupid overblown rumors? Give me a break, they’ll have Wardens posted all over the auditorium,” Eva groaned.

Anna walked to the curtains and opened them up. A view of the auditorium bathed in the light of the setting sun appeared with not a single soul in sight.

“Are you sure about that?” Anna said with a tiny jeer.

“Screw you,” Eva looked away and scratched her head.

“We don't have much time," Anna looked at her phone. "Curfews in three hours. If we're going to help Sophie, we should move now."

"You're still going to help?" Gwyneth asked.

"Of course, it doesn't sit well with me to stay still when someone needs help. Besides, who knows what the Wardens will do to her if one of them was ready to strangle us to death," Anna explained.

"Thank you," Gwyneth said quietly

Anna and Gwyneth looked at Eva who thought in silence. After a few moments she spoke.

"I wouldn't go as far as to say that she's in danger, but yeah, the sooner we find her the better," Eva said curtly.

"I really thought you would say no," Gwyneth said with a slightly stunned face.

"Don't act like you know how I think," Eva scoffed.

"Well, we better head out then. Let's go close up the receptionist's booth first," Anna said as she walked out of the dorm.

"Ever the worrywart," Eva grumbled.

. . .

Day began to bleed into night by the time they arrived at the auditorium. The weathered down entrance was chained and locked shut by a simple key lock.

“They locked it,” Anna stated bluntly.

“I guess this really means that Sophie is in here,” Gwyneth said with a worried face.

“Well she won’t be trapped here for long,” Eva said as she took out some of the bobby pins that held up her hair and kneeled beside the floor.

“What are you doing?” Gwyneth asked.

“Picking the lock, duh,” Eva replied as she started unlocking the door and blew some of her loose hair out of her face.

“Where did you learn that?” Anna asked.

“Would you believe me if I said daycare?” Eva turned around with a smirk as the lock clicked open. “We’re in.”

“Follow me,” Anna walked into the auditorium and towards the theater.

The work lights from the day before stood in the exact same spot. Anna turned them on, lighting the auditorium with a musty light. The three walked at a brisk pace while still scanning each room they came across, before turning towards the theater. Anna opened the door and looked at the rows of dimly lit seats.

“The only place I didn’t check yesterday was backstage,” Anna said as she made her way down the stairs and climbed onto the stage.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Eva muttered as she read the scratches on the podium.

Anna walked in between the curtains and into the dark backstage. She turned on her flashlight. Old props and backgrounds littered the floor. Rusting clothing racks filled with forgotten costumes loitered throughout the backstage. A large grandfather clock leaned against boxes stacked up high. The word “John” was painted onto it, it’s time was stuck at 3:13 PM.

“Wow, it's a whole lot of nothing,” Eva said loudly as she leaned against the grandfather clock.

“We at least have to try to look for her,” Anna said as she started searching the mess.

“But, there really is nothing here, Anna,” Gwyneth said sadly.

“We don’t have much time left either,” Eva glanced at her watch. “We should just head back and try again tomorrow before they catch us and we can’t try at all,” She looked at Anna, her long hair fluttering slightly in a soft breeze.

“Yeah... good idea,” Anna said with a slightly dejected tone before turning towards Eva. “What’s wrong with your hair?” Anna asked suddenly.

“What? I was too lazy to tie it back up after picking the lock,” Eva replied dismissively.

“No, why is it moving,” Anna asked again before walking towards the grandfather clock herself.

She felt around it looking for the source of the breeze. Eventually she found a small crack in the wall. Cold air trickled out of it slowly.

“Help me move this thing,” Anna said towards Eva and Gwyneth as she started trying to move the grandfather clock out of the way.

“This is heavy,” Gwyneth panted as she pushed as hard as she could.

“Just push,” Eva commented as she led the clock onto the floor. “Now what?” Eva asked Anna.

Anna picked up a broken off leg of a chair from the floor and smashed it against the crack. The wall crumbed into wet clumps of drywall that revealed the entrance to a tunnel.

“A tunnel?” Anna murmured.

“You are amazing at breaking things, y’know that,” Eva said blankly.

“D-Do you think that Sophie could be in there?” Anxiety lumped in Gwyneth’s voice.

“If this was a horror movie, sure, but to me that just looks like an effing death trap,” Eva shifted uncomfortably.

“We have to check,” Anna took a deep breath before stepping inside.

“Are you crazy?!” Eva grabbed her arm. “We have no idea where that leads, if there’s anything even in there or if there’s even a way out.”

“Where else could she be if the Wardens couldn’t even find her?” Anna tugged her arm away from Eva’s grasp.

“I don’t know, but I’m not gonna risk my life to find out,” Eva crossed her arms.

Anna’s breaths stiffened. She glared at Eva who returned the gesture.

“I-” Anna opened her mouth before being interrupted by the muffled echo of classical music.

“Nocturne op.9 No.2, Sophie’s favorite song. She set it as her ringtone…” Anna and Eva turned to face Gwyneth.

She clutched her phone close to her, she had dialed Sophie’s number while they were arguing.

Eva looked into the tunnel. Its jagged walls seemed like they were cut into the building itself. Drops of a mysterious liquid fell onto the floor with an unnerving pitter-patter. The end of the tunnel remained a mystery as it curved into an unknown depth.

“Still not doing it,” Eva swallowed nervously.

“Fine, you can stay out here. I’m going,” Anna steeled herself as she turned on her flashlight.

“Me too-” Gwyneth said as she took a step forward.

Her voice skipped into a shriek of terror. Anna and Eva turned around to see Caroline holding Gwyneth up by her hair.

“Warden 06 was right, there were some rats in the theater after all,” Caroline leered.

Anna sprinted past Eva and tried to help Gwyneth only to get kicked in the stomach. She fell onto the floor and curled up into a ball as she clutched her burning stomach.

“Let me go!” Gwyneth shrieked and tried to kick herself free.

Caroline swiftly jabbed her in the abdomen before dropping her. Gwyneth gasped as air escaped her lungs.

“And you?” Caroline turned towards Eva, her eyes glowing an ethereal dark green.

Eva looked at Anna and Gwyneth whimpering on the floor. Her face hardened.

“They didn’t deserve that,” Eva grit her teeth as she raised her fists.

“Hmm,” Caroline stepped over the two and towards Eva with her hands behind her back. “But Miss Sophie did?”

“Don’t act like you know everything, you crap shoveling pig!” Eva yelled as she jabbed at Caroline.

Caroline caught her first and pulled her close before headbutting her. The strength of the blow forced Eva onto her knees.

“Oh, Eva,” Caroline said in a condescending tone and got closer to her. “We know everything,” She whispered.

Caroline pulled back her fist. Eva sluggishly looked upwards, unable to move. She closed her eyes as Caroline swung at her face.

"You’re not hurting her anymore," Anna's shaky voice said.

Eva opened her eyes to see Anna holding Caroline's shoulder back to stop her from punching her.

"How persistent," Caroline said in an unamused tone as she elbowed Anna in her side.

To her surprise Anna didn't budge.

"You have no idea," Anna grunted as she stomped on the back of Caroline's knee.

Caroline hollorred in pain as she crumbled onto her knees.

"Take Gwyneth into the tunnel!" Anna screamed, struggling to hold Caroline down.

Eva looked at Anna stunned at how much she was fighting back. She groggily stood onto her feet.

"Hurry up and go!" Anna yelled again.

Eva's face burned into a furious frown. She closed her fist and grit her teeth before punching Caroline’s face with the full force of her body.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Eva roared as her fist collided with Caroline.

Anna let go of Caroline with barely enough time to evade the blow. Caroline held her bloodied nose as she struggled to move.

"Come on, Goldilocks," Eva said as she leaned Gwyneth on her shoulder.

Anna quickly grabbed Gwyneth's other shoulder. The two limped into the tunnel as fast as they could. Waves of frigid air poured out of the cracks of the tunnel as it curved deeper and deeper into darkness. The ground under their feet morphed from concrete to something squishy and wet. A sense of dread creeped down Anna's neck as the air became thinner. Sophie's ringtone distorted and echoed into noise before suddenly extinguishing into a deafening silence.

"Eva, can you see anything?" Anna asked loudly, her voice reverberating in her ears.

"I can't see shi-" Eva yelled in reply before suddenly screaming out of panic.

Anna felt the ground underneath her crumble into nothing. Her screams echoed endlessly as she plunged into absolute darkness.

#oc #ow #writing #mystery #thriller #horror #action #anime inspired #female protagonist #heartfelt #cw violence #cw injury #I wrote Caroline as Coraline like 24 times in the rough draft. I blame Neil Gaiman

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years ago

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid

Pairing: Klance: Keith Kogane/Lance Mcclain

Summary: Lance has lived a pretty simple life since being turned into a vampire. He’s got his house, his cat, and his two besties that have no idea he’s a vampire thanks to his awesome acting skills... He thought he was happy, that things were fine, that he wasn’t drawing too much attention to himself... and then he met Keith.Big, dumb, hot, emo, stupid Keith. Keith that went and flipped his life upside down, because, seriously, Keith really was a special kind of stupid.Vampire Lance x Vampire Hunter Keith

READ ON AO3

People sucked. People truly, madly, unequivocally, completely and totally sucked. That’s why Lance had brought his farmhouse outside a the tiny speck of a town barely found on most maps. He hadn’t lead a particularly long life, at least not when compared to others suffering from the same condition as he had, yet in his short time, he’d come to hate people. Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t hate everyone. He had two best friends that meant the world to him, Pidge and Hunk. Both paranormal investigators, and both blind to his unusualness. No. What Lance held issue with was the continued hunting of his kind by the Vatican. His “ancestors” may have bathed in blood, and sacrificed virgins, all that kind of hooky-huha that one reads in scary stories, but before he’d been made a vampire, he liked to think he’d been a happy enough well liked kid, and he liked to think that even these days he still carried an air of that charm whenever he was forced from his home.

Garrison was a tiny town 50kms away from Platt City, founded during the Third World War, the city held plenty of ghostly secrets which had drawn both Hunk and Pidge to the area. Boasting a single Main Street, the highlights of the town were limited to tourist traps and three pubs on the Main Street. It was while studying at Platt University that he’d met both his best friends, twenty years his juniors, yet thanks to his unwanted immortality his body had stopped maturing roughly around the age of 18, making it easy to join the crowded university with a few falsified papers. His intention was to refresh his legal skills in order to keep up with the time’s. With the help of his Mami, he’d moved somewhere small and private, to a dead beat town that accepted weirdness as an everyday occurrence thanks to the tourists that came to see the ghosts of soldiers passed. When he’d been a kid, he’d always dreamed of being an astronaut, yet had chosen law to help those less fortunate in some kind of redemption for his condition. Being immortal meant keeping up with the times, though his house retained much of its old “Victorian” charm. Plus, with Platt being so close, it made for an easy drive up there every three weeks to pick up new blood bags. He was in no way a stereotypical vampire other than his need for blood. He wore glasses, because his eyesight was so good his mind couldn’t process everything he was seeing. This came with the unfortunate side effect of being clumsy as hell. He’d come from a Catholic family, meaning he believed in the presence of God. He’d also never drunk from a human, and never taken a human as pet or a lover like some did. When he wasn’t tagging along with Pidge and Hunk to ensure they didn’t accidentally summon something nasty, most of his time was devoted to providing low cost family legal advise.

Perhaps because he hadn’t been born a vampire, he’d retained many of his human ways. Sunlight didn’t turn him to ashes. Garlic gave him pretty bad stomach cramps and indigestion, which could be fobbed off with the excuse of an allergy. Silver gave him hives, again, something that could be passed off as an allergic reaction. He refused to harm animals for blood. He refused to bite another human, despite the fact a bite wouldn’t turn one anyway. They needed to be drinking his blood for that to happen, and after how he’d been turned, there was no way he’d ever do that to a mortal. He showed up in photographs, though his eyes always came out red instead of their usual bright blue. Mirrors weren’t exactly his friend, but not because he couldn’t see himself, instead because he hated seeing himself. They didn’t magically show his “vampire face”, instead they reminded him he’d never grow old. At the ripe age of 44 he looked 18. Even when he turned 100, he’d still look 18. It was thoroughly depressing. Unlike some vampires he didn’t have a coven, or a pack. His house only held him and his cat Blue, who he’d found as a tiny kitten under the steps leading up to the porch. She’s was black, fluffy, and an absolute princess in his eyes. Other than the general upkeep of his house, blood costs and the very occasional splurge on new clothes, most of the money he made went to spoiling his little princess. He wasn’t sure if Blue was part vampire, her teeth had always been sharp, as kitten he’d dug her out by the scruff of the neck, her tiny little teeth were far too cute as they buried themselves into his hand. She’d never acted like she was, but she also preferred to stay inside and had a personality that rivalled some of the most twisted “Queen” vamps he’d met. Then again, everyone knew cats were temperamental arseholes, so maybe Blue was simply being the snobby cow she was born to be.

All in all, Lance had nothing to complain about in his life. He was happy, content, safe in the knowledge no one about to ruin that anytime soon.

Pulling into the parking lot of their usual dive, Sal’s burgers wasn’t the most popular place in town, making it the perfect place to hang out. Located 10kms out of town on the road to Platt City, seemingly an inconvenience the locals, most of Sal’s customers came from tourists needing to stop because their kids needed the toilet. A few of the older locals had dedicated seats at the service bar, and maybe one or twice a week people spiced it up from their usual coffee shops on Main Street, but all in all, the lack of customers is what Lance loved about it. The whole place looked as if the 50’s had left it behind, from its pastel pink exterior to the cheesy green and silver breakfast stools at the c go heck board service bar. From his parking space he could already see Pidge and Hunk waiting for him in their usual booth. Hunk’s head thrown back as he laughed at something, probably at Pidge’s expense.

Cutting the engine, Lance grabbed up his wallet, phone, and gloves. He wasn’t exactly the warmest of people to begin with, but this freezing weather was likely to turn him into an undead popsicle. Already dressed in his favourite khaki jacket, Lance did a quick double check pat down before climbing out his battered blue four wheel drive. She was old, had one too many rust spots and didn’t like starting on days like today, but he’d had her since he’d graduated college the first time around. His Mami was always nagging at him to get rid of her, to use some of his money to buy something better, something that didn’t have roll down windows and a dodgy CD player. His first car was his first real taste of freedom after being turned. They’d been through a lot together, leaving him unable to say goodbye to her. That’d be like cutting him own arm off.

Sal gave him a wave as Lance walked in, the man was a teddy bear under his perpetual 5 o’clock shadow and greasy apron. His policy seemed to be that if someone couldn’t respect him like this, they weren’t worth his respect in return

“Hey’a there, Lance. Pull up a seat and I’ll bring your usual over”

“Thanks, Sal. You’re the best!”

Sal grumbled, Lance pretending he didn’t hear every low word about him. Bringing up that Sal secretly liked him well enough would only leave the old man flustered. For the sake of their “friendship”, he played along with Sal’s mumbling translating into how much of a pain he was. With a bounce in his step, Lance headed over to Pidge and Hunk, throwing himself into the booth as he wrapped his arms around Hunk

“Lance!”

“It’s soooo cold! Warm me up!”

Hunk hugged him back

“I’ve got you, bro! You’re freezing...”

“And you’re late. You were supposed to be here half an hour ago”

Lance sighed dramatically as he rolled his eyes at his favourite tech gremlin

“You know how she gets in cold weather”

“Who? There better not be anything and wrong with my Princess”

“Pidge, you should know by now that when Lance talks like that, he’s talking about his car... right?”

Lance grinned

“Of course I’m talking about my girl. And my Princess is perfectly happy. Blue was curled up under my blankets when I left”

Pidge pouted at him

“You could have brought her with you. I miss my Blue cuddles”

“You could try coming by the house. She was in a mood when I left”

Lance had a backpack carrier for her, but Blue would have frozen her perfect little toe beans out in the weather today. He’d left the heated blanket on a timer for her, unable to keep from spoiling his princess. Pidge’s hand left her laptop keyboard to grab her mug of coffee

“But your house is soooo far away. Anyway, we’re here to talk about work. I was on this forum last night, and someone swore they met a werewolf. Can you imagine? Hunk told me to stop scaring him”

Hunk... Hunk was the biggest ray of sunshine Lance had ever met. The poor man got every single form of motion sickness know, but that never once stopped him. He was terrified of ghost stories, not the best constitution to have when one is a ghost hunter... No, paranormal investigator. He’d been told there was a difference, but honestly it all sounded the same. People loved to think of the unknown, that world existing just out of their everyday mundane lives. Having been in that world for as long as he had been, Lance would happily pay for a boring mundane life

“I wasn’t scared... I’m... cautious”

Pidge clucked at Hunk, Hunk flipping her off. Laughing at him, Pidge wasn’t easily swayed

“You’re a chicken. What about you, Lance? Do you believe in werewolves?”

Werewolves were dicks. He’d bumped into a few over the years, and they’d done nothing to persuade him that they weren’t. The only thing they had going for them was their commitment to their mates and family, other than that, they were testosterone filled morons with claws.

“I don’t know... I feel like they’d all be too stupid to hide their existence”

“Wolves are incredibly smart... Fine, let’s put that one the back burner. Now, about work, there’s a group of tourists that want to come through the old hospital. The visitors centre in town gave me a call about it. Apparently they pay reeeeeeally well”

They’d have to. The old hospital was “cursed”. It’d been converted into a professional centre, but three years after the renovations they closed the building down thanks to the high number of injuries. If there were ghosts there, it was doubtful they’d care to bother with the employees. They all had their own issues. Lance held the opinion it was more a spate of psychosomatic symptoms resulting from the first accident. The building had been handed back over to the town, where it’d sat empty until it reopened as a military museum. With a bored sigh, Lance resigned himself to the fact that Pidge had already gone ahead and decided this was happening. Patting Hunk on the arm, the big man let him go

“When is this all supposed to be happening?”

Pidge’s eyes twinkled with mischief. Lance loved that about her. The top of her head barely came to his chin, but her pint sized stature didn’t stop her. She was always up for a laugh, and frightfully adapt with all things technology based. One of their first conversations came about because Lance had dropped his phone down the stairwell, smashing the screen as it bounced. Seeing her notice pinned up at the campuses cafe, he’d reached out to her with no idea they’d still be besties so many years later. From memory she had an older brother who was as much of a nerd as she was, while her mother and her father both worked in some private sector. He’d met them once over a family dinner Pidge dragged him to, seen them half a dozen times on their front steps as Pidge fled from their parental yelling, and finally been stuck in a very awkward conversation with Pidge’s father, Sam, when he’d found Bae-Bae, the missing family dog who Pidge had brought along on one of their ghost hunts

“Tonight. We’ve got permission to start once the museum shuts for the day. The tour starts at 8, so we’ll go in, set up, have something to eat, then scare the shit out of them at 8”

“You didn’t tell me it’s tonight!”

Poor Hunk. His poor heart had no time to come to terms with this. His worrying only made Pidge smile wider

“Relax, it’ll be fiiiine. Lance is coming with us. He’ll protect you from anything spooky”

“Why do I have to protect you? What are you going to do? Sue the ghosts for giving you the heebie-jeebies? Sorry, that’s not my specialty”

Pidge slid her glasses down to the tip of her nose as she puffed her chest out

“Ha, he, ho, I’m Lance and I have a fancy law degree! Those ghosts better think twice before looking at me”

Lance laughed way too hard, tears leaking out the corners of his eyes, his black frame glasses nearly falling off. Pidge pushing her glasses back into place as Sal brought over Lance’s pancakes and coffee. The man simply placing them down before backing away without a word

“Oh my god, Pidge. That was awful”

“It wasn’t that awful. So, Hunk, you’re in snacks for the night. Lance is in charge of driving, and I’m in charge of the tech. What are we forgetting?”

“That we value our lives and don’t really want to do this?”

Pidge sank lower in her seat, a soft thud coming as Hunk gasped in pain

“What was that for?!”

“Being a chicken”

“I’m not a chicken”

“Are too...”

Picking up his fork, Lance calmly cut in on their fight

“Children, don’t make me seperate the pair of you. Hunk, you’re big, brave, and very manly. Pidge, you’re so fucking short you couldn’t even covertly kick him under the table. If we’re going out, I need to stop by home on the way. Blue needs her wet food for the night, and no, she’s not coming tonight. It’s going to storm as it is”

Crossing her arms, Pidge slumped back in her seat

“You just want to keep my Princess all to yourself. Hunk can leave his car here and we’ll take yours”

“I thought my house was too far away to visit?”

“It’s not when you’re the one driving. Hurry up and finish your pancakes, I wanna go already”

Lance looked down at the forkful he’d been about to load in his mouth, purposely cutting the stack in half to annoy Pidge. Scoffing down Sal’s pancakes was an insult to the man who’d made cigarette ash in pancakes edible. The lack of hygiene may have been another reason why the locals stayed away, but when you’re immortal, standards kind of went out the window

“Laaaaance. Nooo. What are you doing?”

“Enjoying my breakfast. Order another coffee... actually, order some warm milk, I can see you practically vibrating from the amount of caffeine in our bloodstream”

“I’ll have you know that the level of blood in my caffeine stream is just fine. Plus, you’re like the only person in the world who enjoys Sal’s pancakes!”

“Oi! I heard that, Katie Holt!”

Pidge ducked down further in her seat at Sal’s voice. A couple of regulars laughing at her embarrassment, as Pidge blushed

“Now look what you’ve done”

“Not my problem, Pidgeroonie”

“Watch your back, I’m going to get you tonight, then steal away Blue”

Lance shrugged, unfazed by her threat. Tonight would be another lame arse tour under the belt, the most exciting thing they could expect was some jump scare.

#accidentally started a new fic #klance #bottom Lance #mpreg #voltron

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frobster · 4 years ago

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Offer of a Lifetime: Chapter 2

Both chapters now up on ao3!

☆☆☆

Peter stayed where he was for a moment, shocked by what had just happened, before his phone buzzed again and brought him back to himself. He looked down at the number of missed messages and quickly read through them, MJ becoming increasingly frantic when Peter didn’t immediately answer.

> Peter: So, James was just in my apartment

> Peter: Also, he told me to call him Bucky

The buzzing started again before Peter could even lock his phone. He ignored it as he went around getting dressed, pulling on underwear and sweatpants before checking again.

> MJ: PETER WHAT THE FUCK

> Ned: BRO ARE YOU OKAY???

> Peter: I’m fine. He left. Gave me a week to think about his offer. Also said he would leave me alone completely if I turned him down

> MJ: And u believed him???????????

> Peter: He didn’t give me a reason not to. There weren't any threats, and he did wait wait a whole day before contacting me

> Ned: Sugar daddy already getting to you smh

> Peter: Come on, you know it would be amazing to have a sugar daddy

> MJ: Ya but this one could put u in a lot of danger

Peter bit his lip as he thought. MJ was right. While it was his dream to be a kept boy and never have to worry about anything, he wasn’t sure if it was worth the dangers associated with Bucky. He would definitely need the whole week to think.

> MJ: We’re gonna talk more tonight. I’ll see u at 7:45

> Peter: Sounds good

Bucky was at the forefront of Peter’s mind for the rest of the day. He didn’t really have anything to do until the evening, so he lounged around much like the previous day and tried to find more on the internet about Bucky.

“Where did that name even come from?” Peter muttered to himself as he clicked on yet another tabloid article. The gossip papers had a lot to speculate about him since they loved to lie about crime and drama. He mostly skimmed the articles since they all seemed to be sensationalized and mostly rumors.

One thing that stood out to Peter was the consistent inclusion of a broad blonde man almost always on Bucky’s right. The few pictures that weren’t blurry or grainy made the man seem relatively attractive, and Peter had to wonder if he was a past fling or just a confidante. Bucky obviously liked men, given his interest in Peter, but that still didn’t confirm anything.

The day oozed by in a cloud of laziness - naps, articles, snacks. Peter didn’t leave the couch except to get a snack or use the bathroom. By the time 6pm rolled around, Peter finally got up to start getting ready. He never took too long, but he didn’t want to rush either. The weather was still decent, so he decided on a pair of shorts that would help show off his legs and a mesh tank top that wouldn’t really cover anything. Beneath the shorts, he had red panties. Even if it led to him getting misgendered more often, the panties did help him get more money out of clients.

Peter ran his hands through his hair to make it fluffy and messy, swiped some gloss over his lips before tucking the tube into his bag, then looked at his measly pile of shoes. There weren’t many to choose from and most of them were bought purely for style rather than function. He ended up going back to his room to grab a pair of knee-high socks before sliding on a pair of black high-top sneakers. People still liked scene twinks, right? The socks would help keep his legs warm too once the sun went down and the air got cooler.

Picking his outfit didn’t take very long, so Peter was left with almost an hour until he had to leave. Then he remembered that Ned and MJ went grocery shopping for him, so he took a tour of his own kitchen to see what they got for him. Most of it was canned goods so it wouldn’t go to waste if he didn’t eat it quickly, but there were some fresher foods too like prepackaged salads and frozen chicken.

Settling on the chicken and a salad, Peter hauled out the bag of chicken tenders to check the required oven temperature. He got the oven set and preheating before wandering back to his couch and flopping over the back of it. Upon checking his phone, he finally saw the few messages from Bucky that he missed while showering.

> I’m coming to visit soon. Try to look presentable.

Sent almost as soon as Peter stepped into the shower. He grimaced at the bad timing and scrolled down to read the rest, sent after Bucky had left.

> Obviously you did not see my message beforehand, as I assume a towel around your waist and a bare chest is not what you would typically consider “presentable”.

> You have until next Wednesday to make your decision. If you do not give me an answer before then, I will assume you’re uninterested and leave you alone, like I promised.

Peter sighed and reread the messages a few times. Then he saved Bucky’s contact number before taking another screenshot to send to his friends.

> Peter: See? I told you he would leave me alone if I turned him down

> MJ: I guess he may not be such a terrible person…

> Ned: He literally runs the New York mafia

> MJ: Yeah, but he knows how to treat a boy right

> Peter: I’m feeling heart emojis. Should I change his name in my phone to Daddy?

> Ned: NO!!!!!!!

> MJ: skjghalfaldfk YES

> Ned: Do NOT encourage him!!

Peter laughed to himself and quickly changed Bucky’s contact name to ‘Daddy’ followed by pink and purple heart emojis. Then he took another screenshot of the saved contact and sent it to the chat.

> MJ: I expect updates every time he texts you. We have to decide if he’s good enough for our baby

> Ned: I will not approve of Peter being the kept boy of the HEAD OF THE NEW YORK MAFIA

> Peter: Aw dad, you’re no fun

> Ned: Don’t make me ground you

> MJ: Not allowed, Peter and I have work tonight

> MJ: Maybe daddy will bring us some coffee

> Peter: Hey! Only I am allowed to call him daddy

> MJ: Aw, possessive already? ;)

> Peter: ...maybe

> Ned: I’m doomed. We’re all doomed

Their casual, friendly conversation continued for a while until Ned had to put his phone away for class. Peter and MJ switched to single texting as they talked about their plans for that night. She had got them a new corner a few blocks away from where Bucky had picked Peter up, but they both knew that Bucky could find them again if he really wanted to.

The oven soon beeped so Peter got up to put a couple chicken tenders on a pan and into the oven. He set a timer on his phone then looked around his apartment as he tried to figure out what to do to pass the time.

But rather than finding something to do, Peter just realized how shitty his apartment really was. The walls were thin and dirty, there was a crack spiderwebbing up the wall in a corner, the floors were stained and worn out from countless tenants. He sighed and slumped against the kitchen counter, a cheap laminated wood that creaked even under his slight weight. There were multiple different bug problems through the building - cockroaches, ants, spiders, wasps. He had a roach problem in his own apartment, leading to all food in the cabinets needing to be canned so they couldn't chew into it.

It was exhausting to live in poverty. Peter hated his apartment but it was all he could really afford. The life insurance policy from his aunt was used to pay off his surgery bills and the rest was funneled to any other medical costs that came up, including his hormone prescription. While he did have some money in savings, it would not be enough to allow him to live somewhere better. He was losing money faster than he made it back.

Bucky’s offer was slowly becoming more and more attractive.

When the timer went off on his phone, Peter swiped it away before carefully taking out the tray of chicken. He set it on the stove to let it cool while he took out the prepared salad bag and set to mixing everything together. Then, since he didn’t feel like using multiple dishes, he cut up the chicken on the baking pan and scraped the pieces into the salad bowl.

“Yeah, I can provide for myself,” Peter said to himself before taking a bite.

The salad was filling and Peter actually felt like he had a decent amount of energy. He took the time to wash all the dishes he used rather than trying to jam them into the dishwasher, brushed his teeth, reapplied his lip gloss, then checked the time.

MJ had sent a few more messages with details of their shift that night, and Ned announced the end of his class and the offer of searching Bucky more. Peter bit his lip as he considered it. If he was going to really give Bucky’s offer some serious consideration, he felt he needed to know the man better. Or he could just text Bucky.

Before he could chicken out, Peter sent a quick text to Bucky and pocketed his phone so he could finalize his outfit and wait for MJ.

> Peter: If you want me to live with you, I’m gonna need to know more about you.

There wasn’t any reply before MJ arrived. Peter sighed as he looked at his lack of notifications before he tucked his phone away, grabbed his bag, and headed out to meet MJ.

There was some tension in the car as a lackey drove Peter and MJ to their new corner. The random guy was humming along to music on the radio while the other two held hands in the back of the car. He didn’t say anything as he stopped at a new corner and unlocked the door, a clear signal for them to get out.

Peter stepped out with his mini backpack shouldered and fixed his shorts once he was standing. MJ followed him out and fixed her skirt too, her own bag slung across her chest and accenting her cleavage. Another reason why MJ was slightly better off than Peter was her assets. People just tended to want her more often than him. He wasn’t upset about that, he knew his friend was gorgeous and she deserved the attention and money. He just couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of her slightly better financial state.

“Did Bucky say anything else?” MJ asked as the car drove off.

“Nope. I don’t really know what he would say,” Peter replied, hyper-aware of his phone in his pocket. He couldn’t remember if it had buzzed while they were in the car since his mind was wandering. Already, just one day after meeting the man, Peter couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky.

8pm wasn’t very late, the bars were just starting to fill up. Peter and MJ had time to talk before people would start showing interest in them. The sunset was nice to watch and offered a serene backdrop to the chaos of their lives, purples and reds blending together like the mundane and unusual of the past few days.

“I would think that he would try to sweeten the deal somehow, y’know? You’ve clearly been hesitant about accepting his offer, so wouldn’t he want to tempt you?” MJ looked at her nails and flicked a speck of invisible dust off the shiny finish, then winked at someone who was looking at her as they stepped into the nearby bar.

“I dunno how much sweeter the deal could get. He offered to pay for everything for the rest of my life, or leave me alone without any trouble. It’s a win-win situation.” Even to his own ears, Peter knew it sounded lame. He was so tempted to accept Bucky’s offer, and MJ could clearly hear that in his voice.

“You deserve to know more about him at least. Even Ned had a hard time finding anything on this guy. And now that we know he’s got some dangerous connections, it would be in your best interest to find out everything you can before making a decision, especially since you’re tempted to agree.” Peter MJ would’ve been an excellent counselor. Maybe she still could be. If they ever found themselves in a position to start saving up money, she could put it towards college classes.

“Yeah, I know. I’m just not-” Peter cut off when he felt his phone vibrate against his ass. He reached into his back pocket to pull it out and blinked as he read the message.

> Bucky: We could discuss that over dinner, if you’d like. I know you’re working, but I could talk to your boss and have him pardon you for the night.

Before Peter could reply to the text or finish what he was saying, MJ snatched his phone away to read the message.

“Hey! Give that back!” Peter squawked as he tried to grab his phone back.

But MJ was taller than him even without the heels she was wearing, so she just held the phone up and angled it down so she could read the screen. She laughed aloud when she read the message and finally lowered her hand again so Peter could have his phone back. He huffed as he stuffed it into his pocket again without bothering to answer.

“It’s cute that he’s already offering to cover your shifts for you. Maybe he’ll even give you some cash to make up for missing a whole night,” MJ teased with a grin. Peter felt too flustered to really register that she seemed to be encouraging him to leave with Bucky.

“There is nothing cute about this situation,” Peter huffed, cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. He wasn’t really sure what he was embarrassed about. Maybe he didn’t realize how tempted he was to accept Bucky’s offer until MJ gave him that little nudge.

“Well, you’re pretty cute. It’s cute how often you blush when we talk about him.” MJ’s tone was more genuine that time, and Peter felt a little surprised.

“Did Ned tell you something else about this guy? Why do you seem so supportive of him now?” There was another buzz in Peter’s pocket but he ignored it, wanting to hear MJ’s answer first.

“You deserve a good life, Peter.” She looked at him, entirely serious, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been through so much and you’re only nineteen. I want you to be happy, to have opportunities that we could never find in this line of work.”

“MJ…”

Before Peter could say more, his phone started buzzing like he had a call. He sighed and reached into his pocket, making a brief note that it was Bucky calling before he answered.

“Hello?”

“You didn’t answer my text, Peter. So I called your boss anyway. I’m coming to pick you up. Would MJ like to join us for dinner?”

Peter just squeaked, his jaw dropped open as he tried to think of what to say. MJ rolled her eyes and snatched the phone away again so she could talk for him.

“Hi, Bucky. Peter would love to go to dinner with you, but he seems to have forgotten how to speak.” She snickered at whatever Bucky said, Peter watching with wide eyes as she spoke with him so casually. “Aw, thank you! I would love to join you for dinner. If you intend to steal my boy away, I have to see if you’re worth his time.”

“MJ!” Peter finally came back to his senses and made a grab for his phone, but she held him back just like before.

“Yeah, that was him. He’s just so excited to see you again. We’ll be waiting for you!” MJ hung up the phone before handing it back to Peter with a grin. “He will be here in about fifteen minutes so zip up your hoodie and try to not look like such a whore.”

Peter swatted at MJ’s arm, making her cackle loudly as she pulled a balled-up shawl out of her bag to wrap around her shoulders and cover up her chest. She tended to wear shirts that showed off her cleavage but now that she wasn’t actively trying to attract customers, she wanted to look more modest. Peter had a sleeveless hoodie that he zipped over his mesh tank top, though he started to feel overheated after just a few minutes.

The hoodie got unzipped again as Peter rocked restlessly in place, anxious and eager to see Bucky again. MJ was updating Ned since Peter was too scared to look at his phone, snickering to herself every now and then.

Soon enough, a sleek black car pulled up. The windows were so heavily tinted that they looked black, but neither of them had to guess at who was inside. MJ tucked her phone away and Peter stepped closer to her, seeking out her familiar comfort as his nerves spiked.

The back window rolled down and a familiar face was revealed. Bucky looked at them both before nodding and pushing the door open.

“Come on, we got reservations in twenty minutes,” he said as he shifted to a seat on the other side of the car.

MJ stepped in first then tugged Peter in with her. She sat across from Bucky and not-so-subtly nudged Peter over to sit next to him. The seats were smooth and cool, and Peter was thankful for the air conditioning that let him zip up his hoodie again to hide his chest. Bucky had already seen him shirtless, but he felt awkward about it now.

The car pulled away from the curb as soon as the door was closed. Peter didn’t have a chance to buckle in so he swayed and ended up leaning into Bucky for a moment. He blushed and scooted away so he could clip his seat belt, then sat quietly and picked at the hem of his socks.

“So,” MJ started casually. “You’re who Peter has a crush on.”

“I do not!” Peter insisted, head snapping up so he could glare at MJ. She just grinned at him as Bucky made an amused sound.

“A crush, huh? That’s cute.” Bucky tucked his phone away and looked over to Peter with a smirk. “Have you given my offer any more thought?”

“It’s been like, six hours,” Peter pointed out, feeling a little more confident with MJ there to back him up.

“Plenty of time to think.” Bucky was watching Peter, eyes glued to him as he waited for a proper answer.

“I mean…” Peter sighed and slumped back against his seat. He did want to say yes, to agree and let Bucky carry him off into the sunset like some perfect romantic dream. It just didn’t feel real.

“We need some proof that you’re the real deal,” MJ finally said.

Bucky’s gaze flicked over to her as he raised an eyebrow. He clearly wasn’t someone who was used to being challenged like that, and for a moment, Peter feared for MJ. But then Bucky laughed and Peter’s heart skipped a beat at the sound.

“Conveniently enough, that is why I invited you along tonight. It’s good to know Peter has a friend looking out for him.”

“Two friends,” MJ corrected. “Ned has been diligently mining through the internet for information about you. He is the only reason why I agreed to dinner.”

Peter huffed as a faint blush dusted his cheeks. MJ was acting like her and Ned were his parents, and he was feeling a little embarrassed about that. Sure, he was the youngest out of the three of them, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t handle himself.

“Two friends,” Bucky amended. Then his gaze turned back to Peter and he reached over to gently rub the boy’s back. “You can relax, Peter. I promise my intentions with you are honorable.”

“And what exactly are your intentions?” Peter looked up again, finally meeting Bucky’s eyes.

There was a moment of hesitation and even MJ could feel the electricity hanging between Bucky and Peter.

“I want to take care of you the way you deserve. To spoil you, pamper you, give you anything you could ever want or need.” Bucky sounded honest and there was no nervous tic that would clue Peter in to a lie. But he still couldn’t believe it.

“Why?”

Another pause. Bucky looked torn between brushing it off and turning to a new subject, coming up with some flowery words that didn’t really answer the question, or actually telling the truth. He took a deep breath to steel his nerves, and decided on the last.

“You are beautiful. Handsome, gorgeous. Whatever term you’re most comfortable with. You are like a work of art, and I don’t want to see you waste away in the streets. You deserve so much more and what am I gonna do with all this money anyway? Hell, you could turn me down here and now and I would still send you money every week. I just want you to be happy.”

Peter blinked. He hadn’t expected such an emotional answer, but he felt touched by it. A quick glance over to MJ showed that she felt affected by it too, her eyes wide in surprise. For all the research the three of them had done, they never would’ve thought Bucky was the sentimental sort of guy.

“Oh.” Peter’s voice was faint as he tried to process all that Bucky said.

Bucky swore under his breath and leaned back in his seat. He had moved closer to Peter as he spoke, but now he felt he should give the younger man some space. But to everyone’s surprise, Peter reached out and set a hand on Bucky’s knee before managing a smile.

“I appreciate that, Bucky. I really do. Thank you.”

There was a beat of silence before Bucky cleared his throat and nodded. He gave Peter a tight smile, seeming a little less confident than when they first got in the car. Then the car stopped before anyone could say anything else and Bucky looked away to the window beside him.

“Ah, looks like we’re here. Don’t worry, it isn’t anywhere too fancy. I figured you two wouldn’t really be dressed for that.”

Bucky’s confidence seemed to slowly come back as he smirked and got out of the car. Then he held out a hand for MJ, and reached out again for Peter once she was standing. But unlike with MJ, Bucky didn’t let go of Peter’s hand. And Peter didn’t really mind.

☆☆☆

#winterspider #peter parker #Bucky barnes #bucky/peter #mcu #marvel fic #offer of a lifetime #my writing #hello. this was written weeks ago and i only just now posted it #oops

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srsly-messed-up-fruitloop · 4 years ago

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Tug of War (Ch 1)

ch 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

Summary: Danny's senior year at Casper High just started and there's a brand new locker sharing policy. Of all people, his locker partner turns out to be the one and only Wes Weston.

Word Count: 2,903

Read on AO3 or under the cut

@monsterswithvibes @phoenixdellaverita @phantomfana hope I did not disappoint

It was the first day of school and Danny was already running late. Of all times for Skulker to have another go at hunting him, he had to pick today. Danny really had high hopes for this year. It was his last year of high school and he knew he had to buckle down now. Despite his grueling responsibilities as Danny Phantom, he’s gotten much better at balancing all his priorities in life since his awful freshman year. His improved grades were one indicator of that, which fuelled him with hope that his dreams of becoming an astronaut weren’t that impossible anymore. However, being late on the first day definitely isn’t a good sign.

He flew inside Casper High and located the washrooms. He quickly floated into a stall, transformed to human, and ran out into the halls, searching for his homeroom with Mr. Lancer. He nervously gulped as his watch told him he was twenty minutes late. Hopefully Lancer won’t be too hard on him.

Danny’s face flushed when everyone in his homeroom stared at him.

“Mr. Fenton, I see you’ve finally made it. I’m sure you must have an important reason for being late on the first day of class.”

Danny nervously brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck as he looked away. “Heh, yeah…”

Lancer squinted at him before continuing, “Nevertheless, I still think it’s important to hear what you have missed. Due to the growing student population at Casper High, this year students will have to share lockers with a partner in their homeroom. Considering your tardiness, I have no choice but to assign you with the only person left without a partner.”

At that moment, a red-haired boy burst into the classroom. “I’m so sorry Mr. Lancer! I jus—”

“Settle down Mr. Weston. I’m sure you also have your reasons. I was just telling Daniel here about the new locker sharing policy we have this year. You both will be locker partners.”

Lancer just grew more annoyed hearing equal squawks of protest from the two boys. “I’m sorry, however, all locker partners must be in the same homeroom. Since everyone else has chosen their partners before you both had arrived, I have no choice but to pair you two together.”

“But…” Danny glanced over to his friends sitting near the back. They both were silently mouthing a ‘sorry’. “Can’t you pair me with Sam and Tucker? Wes can get his own locker!”

“Daniel, I’m afraid I can’t do that, unless you have a legitimate reason as to why you would not want to share your locker space with Wesley?” Mr. Lancer asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I…” Danny trailed off. He peered over to Wes beside him, meeting his hateful glare. Of all people…

“I guess it’s settled then. Please take a seat boys.”

“Dude, relax, our locker combo is 10-22-15. You don’t have to listen to Lancer,” Tucker assured him.

Danny spared his bland macaroni another glance before looking up at his two friends across the lunch table. “Are you guys sure?”

“The creep already is obsessed enough with collecting evidence on you. I’m sure he wouldn’t take the opportunity to snoop through your bag for granted,” Sam scoffed.

“I guess...it’d be bad if he found the thermos like last time.”

Danny honestly wasn’t afraid of him revealing his secret anymore. After three years of Wes attempting and failing to convince the school that he’s Phantom, Danny was sure that even if he transformed right in front of everyone, they still wouldn’t believe Wes.

Besides, his reputation wouldn’t allow it. The kids at Casper High would believe anything else before considering that the “loser” Danny Fenton was associated with their powerful hero. The fact that Wes still was dedicated to his pointless quest went beyond the trio.

Nonetheless, he was still annoying. One time he stole the thermos and tried using it as proof in another one of his lunchtime demonstrations. Unfortunately, he accidentally hit the eject button and released an angry swarm of ghost wasps upon all the poor students in the cafeteria.

Also, Danny was pretty sure he caught a glimpse of Wes taking photos of him again during his fight with Skulker this morning. That’s probably why he was also late.

“What’s your locker number again?”

“434. I think?” Tucker answered.

“That sounds about right,” Sam commented.

Danny shrugged on his backpack. “Alright, just gonna drop my new textbooks there. Be right back.”

Upon finding locker 434, Danny reached out for the lock, pausing when he drew a blank on the combination. Without another thought, he turned the lock intangible and phased it off.

All two backpack hooks were occupied and the top shelf was already full with an assortment of math, biology, chemistry, and physics textbooks. As for the second shelf, Danny shoved aside a can of Tucker’s homemade cologne Foley , a spare PDA, and a couple of other things to make some space. However, a small flat square object wrapped in bright plastic fell to the ground. He picked it up and inspected it. Something seemed so familiar about it. Oh .

He tossed the pad back into the locker as if it burned him. Right, Sam was a girl. No, a woman. Right.

Right, back to what he was here for. He reached into his backpack and pulled out his new textbooks and a thermos currently hosting Skulker. There was barely enough space on the second shelf for just the thermos, but as he stooped to place his books at the bottom by Sam’s gym shoes, he gagged at the smell. He forgot how much her feet stunk sometimes.

With resignation, he stood up and put his books back in his bag. It’s fine, he’s Danny Phantom, he’d once lifted a car before. He could definitely handle carrying around a few heavy textbooks.

The back pain was unreal.

After one whole week of lugging his four textbooks around from class to class, Danny couldn’t take it anymore. His mom has already started lecturing him about his posture again.

He couldn’t even leave some of them at home since he had the same classes every day. He also couldn’t bring himself to bug Sam and Tucker to more make space for him, their locker was practically overflowing with all the ghost hunting equipment he stores there now.

Therefore, he had no choice. He made his way to locker 824 and fished out a crumpled piece of paper from the bottom of his bag. He grumbled as the combination Lancer wrote down for him didn’t work and he tried again. And again. He scanned the lockers around him just to make sure he was at the correct one. However, he did a double-take when he noticed that every single other locker had a different lock than the one in front of him. Did he...?

Danny tried the combination one last time and failed. The jerk changed the lock!

Now thoroughly aggravated, Danny was about to just phase off the lock when he was interrupted by that same jerk.

“What the heck are you doing?”

Danny turned to glare angrily at Wes. “Why did you change the lock?”

“Why does it matter to you? I thought you were fine sharing with your little sidekicks?”

“They’re not my si—” Danny paused when he felt his ectoplasm burning colder beneath his skin. Get a grip Fenton.

After taking a breath, he continued, “Lancer told us we have to share. Tell me the new combo, I just need to keep my textbooks.”

Wes stared incredulously at him before replying, “No way man, I’m not giving you free rein to snoop through my stuff.”

“Why on earth would I want to do that?”

“I dunno, why do you try to hide your true intentions through false heroism.”

“I don’t ha—Wes, just tell me the combo.”

“No.”

“C’mon, I won’t touch your stuff.”

“No.”

Danny scowled. “Fine. I guess I’ll just have to…”

Wes squawked when he saw Danny phase out the lock. “Hey! You can’t do that! I’m telli—”

“Mr. Lancer that you changed the lock on our locker so I can’t get in?”

Wes glowered silently while Danny placed his textbooks on the barren top shelf and hung his bag. His back screamed in relief.

Turning to Wes, Danny tossed the unopened lock to him. Caught off-guard, Wes fumbled with it, almost dropping it. Danny smirked and started heading to his next class.

A little more than a week later, Danny walked into his homeroom (he was actually early for once) and sat in the spot between his friends. Apparently he missed something, because they both had their arms crossed and were angrily looking away from each other.

“Uh, hey guys?” Danny said hesitantly. A week ago, they were bickering about keeping the can of Foley in their locker. And just yesterday, Sam blew up when Tucker complained about her smelly shoes. What could they possibly be arguing about today?

Sam spoke up first. “Danny, as the third occupant of our locker, will you please tell Tucker that we are not going to allow him to install a grill in our locker?”

“Wait wha—”

“Sam, let the dude make his own decisions. Danny, imagine all the things we can cook. Bacon, sausages, lamb chops...we won’t have to deal with crappy cafeteria food anymore!”

“Actu—”

“Tucker, don’t you realize how ridiculous you sound? No teacher is going to let you put a kitchen appliance in a locker! And I don’t want my stuff smelling like meat juice!”

“Sam, they aren’t gonna find out. If anything, we can just bribe them with bacon. Right Danny?”

“Um, I—”

“They’re not going to fall for your bribe when there’s a freaking fire hazard in there!”

“Oh, lighten up. I guess it’d be difficult getting you to understand the true power of bacon.”

Sam leaned back in her chair and scoffed. “Danny, can you believe this guy?”

Tucker gripped Danny’s shoulder and whispered excitedly, “Imagine, no more caf food!”

Looking between his friends, Danny sighed. “Guys, I don’t think I’m qualified enough to help you make this decision.”

“No, you are. You keep your stuff in there too,” Sam insisted, almost with a hint of desperation.

“Actually...it’s just the ghost hunting equipment. I’ve...I’ve started using my other locker.”

“What?!” his friends exclaimed in unison.

“Yea, it’s kinda crowded in your locker already. I’m just keeping my textbooks and backpack in there.”

“Danny, we can make more space for you man,” Tucker affirmed.

“Yeah, it might be tight but you don’t have to do this,” Sam agreed.

“Look guys, he barely keeps anything in there anyways. I haven’t even seen him near it for like a week. It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked worriedly.

“Ye—” Suddenly Lancer cleared his throat at the front of the classroom.

Danny groaned when he saw “ Hamlet essay due tomorrow ” on the chalkboard.

“I c-can’t believe they’re f-forcing me to g-go with everyth-thing happening with s-school! C-couldn’t they have chosen Win-winter break? Thanksgiving w-week?” Sam complained, shivering from the late October chill.

“H-how long wi-will you be gone?” Tucker asked, also shivering.

“One week I-I think?”

Danny frowned when he noticed how cold his friends felt. He shouldn’t have just worn a t-shirt today. Ever since his ice core had “awakened”, he never had a problem with cold weather. In fact, sometimes he forgot to wear a coat when leaving his house in the dead of winter.

Too late to change his clothes now. But there is something else he can do. “Guys, come closer,” he said, placing his arms around his friends’ shoulders. He focused on heating up his energy and allowed it to seep through his skin.

His cold friends sighed, feeling the warmth. After a moment, Sam peered at him quizzically. “Danny, you know the door’s right there.”

He ignored her remark. “How could you not be psyched that you’re getting an extra week off? In the Bahamas!”

“Yeah!” Tucker agreed. Danny retreated his arms to push open their school’s front doors.

“I’m not getting an extra week off though. I still gotta keep up with all my homework and assignments. And my parents don’t care at all, they seem to be under the delusion that they could bribe me into any college they want!”

Approaching his locker, Danny grabbed his stuff for class and then turned his bag intangible, placing it inside his locker.

“I don’t think it’s a delusion, have you seen that article about all those rich parents who got involved in that huge college admissions scandal?” Tucker brought up as they continued towards their own locker.

“Exactly, now it’s all the more harder for them to do it. And that’s even if I allow them,” she asserted as she opened her locker with Tucker.

Danny stood back as his friends grabbed their things for class, mentally going over his notes for his physics test coming up in third period. He was so glad he got to study last night with zero interruptions. Still, that didn’t mean he was any less nervous. If he screws up this test, he’ll probably screw up the rest of his grade. He’ll honestly give it his best shot, but, regardless, he’d really just like to fast-forward right to lunch. Besides, he had his mom’s clam chowder from last night to look forward to then.

Tucker swung their locker closed. “Whatever Sam, they’re your parents.”

“Yeah, I know,” she grumbled.

Danny practically skipped to his locker after finishing his test. It was so easy!

He didn’t even need to look at the formula sheet once, he already remembered them from doing his homework.

Opening the door, he grabbed his bag and stuck his hand inside it to fish for his lunch. Maybe his physics grade wouldn’t be so bad after all. Probably even good enough for college admissions. Danny allowed a bit of hope for his dreams to fill his heart.

He just needed good enough grades this year to get into any science college program. And then he’ll just complete his masters, do a bit of work in whatever he studies, and then the NASA physical test should be a piece of cake! He couldn’t contain the grin that appeared on his face. His future wasn’t hopeless.

With a renewed sense of vigor, he dug deeper for the thermos keeping his lunch. But then, he faltered when he couldn’t feel it. He dumped out everything in his bag, yet his lunch was missing. Weird. He huffed as he looked over the rest of the locker. It wasn’t there.

Did he forget to pack it this morning? His mom left it on the table, did he take it?

His expression melded into a frown, he probably did leave it at home.

“Crappy caf food it is,” he muttered, slamming his locker shut.

Wes was going off on another spiel about Phantom’s true identity in the centre of the cafeteria. Danny barely paid him any mind as he sat down with his lunch tray.

Tucker cautiously eyed his friend’s grumpy look. “Hey dude, how was the test?”

Danny suddenly perked up at that. “Surprisingly, it was really good.”

“Aw that’s good to hear man, I think I messed up on the rollercoaster question.”

“Oh that one? I think I used the centripetal acceleration formula,” Danny recalled as he brought up a spork full of dry salad.

“Why didn’t I thi—”

“Um guys, where did Wes get that from?” interrupted Sam.

Danny curiously spared a glimpse at the annoying red-haired boy standing up on a table several feet away. However, his look morphed into a furious glare when he caught what he was holding.

Tucker groaned, “Man, I hope there’s no ghost in there for him to accidentally release again.”

Danny’s friends startled when he abruptly stood up.

“Listen everyone! I have found this ghost containment device, that Phantom regularly uses, in our shared locker,” Wes yelled to the irritated students around him.

“Shut up Wes!” Kwan shouted.

“No, I won’t. Can you guys see? Why would h—”

“His parents invented them dumbass!” Valerie hollered.

“Which makes sense why Pha—”

Wes froze as the very ghost he was trying to expose suddenly stepped on his table and glowered right at him.

With barely restrained anger, Danny demanded, “Give me back my lunch, Wes.”

Wes looked between the thermos and him before bursting into laughter. “You—you think I’d fall for that?” he cried.

While Wes continued to laugh, Danny’s eyes began to burn a bright green. “I’m serious Wes.”

Ignoring his threat, Wes noticed his eyes and enthusiastically exclaimed, “Everyone look! His eyes are doing it again!”

Danny grunted as he attempted to swipe back his lunch. “You promised you wouldn’t go through my stuff!”

Jumping back, Wes cradled the thermos closer to him. “I promised nothing. You were the one who promised.”

Danny had to use so much restraint to stop himself from lunging at him.

“Anyways,” Wes continued, raising the thermos above his head, “if your lunch was in fact in here, then explain what happens when I press this!”

All of the students in the cafeteria suddenly protested, all too well remembering the ghost wasp incident. Unfortunately, it was too late.

This time instead, a chunky cream-coloured liquid gushed out the thermos, drenching everyone surrounding the two boys.

#danny phantom #i really can't get away with saying i 'write the occasional self-indulgent ficlet' anymore #well #this is still self-indulgent #i'm having way too much fun writing this #fic #sam has smelly feet let me self project in peace #the trio #wes #mr. lancer #grooveactuallywrites #tug of war #the STDs

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himikochan · 4 years ago

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SJW Handbook and Advice - CHICAGO-CENTRIC

Hello everyone I’ve been compiling info for protesters and non-protesters for Chicago and I thought I’d share it here. It’s copy and pasted from a few different posts but it’s somewhat comprehensive and draws on a lot of ideas I’ve seen circulating. Not all of this info is Chicago-specific, but I do talk about local laws in Chicago and bail funds in Chicago.

SAFETY AND GOOD CONDUCT AT A PROTEST

-Tear gas: the agent in tear gas that's painful, lachrymator, binds to water molecules. It's so effective because it gets into your throat/lungs/eyes and also binds to the moisture on your skin. If you suspect tear gas might be used at a protest [which honestly you should just guess now], you should try to make sure as much of your body is covered as possible- wear long sleeves and pants and try to cover your hair. If possible, have gloves and goggles or sunglasses handy. When you are exposed to tear gas, try to get a wet cloth against your face ASAP- the moisture on the cloth will bind to the lachrymator and prevent it from getting inside of you. Pour water on a bandana or mask and try to keep it as close to your body as possible. Walk away from the cloud of gas ASAP- and before you go inside your home, try to stuff your clothes into a bag [wash them in 4-5 days when the lachrymator isn't as reactive anymore]. Take a shower as soon as possible and try to wash your hair 2-3 times- some people have told me that you should take a cold shower. If you are directly exposed to lachrymator and it gets in your eyes/mouth/nose, rinse with milk or a water/baking soda solution ASAP. Lachrymator is a very unstable molecule and either of those is pretty effective at neutralizing it.

-IF you're in a position to try and take care of a tear gas canister [if you've come prepared with a traffic cone, water, a mask, and goggles- or you're reckless as shit] cover it with a traffic cone. That will trap the fumes. Then pour as much water as you can into the traffic cone, hopefully it will put out the fuse inside the canister. PLEASE BE CAREFUL WHEN ATTEMPTING TO DO THIS- and do some more research on how to do it properly. I have not personally had a chance to use this tactic.

-The cops may have vans with IMSI catchers and/or cell phone jammers: IMSI catchers gather information about you and cell phone jammers prevent you from being able to use your phone. Carry a watch, make an exit plan with a vehicle/public transit OUTSIDE of the area where the protest is happening, and sharpie the phone number of an emergency contact on your body. There may come a time where you want to shut off your phone- even if you don't get detained, knowing there is a friendly phone number you can access will make you feel better. Be careful about taking pictures of fellow protesters’ faces- the police are using pictures on social media to target protesters after the fact. UPDATE: I just saw another post about IMSI catchers/stingray stuff. They suggest leaving your phone at home because turning your phone off is a break in your normal patterns and can be used in a prosecution. They suggest using a burner phone- this might be the way to go if you live in a city where IMSI stuff is confirmed. SECOND UPDATE: Imperfect protection measures STILL DO SOME GOOD. There are plenty of reasons you can be in a position where you need your cell phone on you and turning off your location services and/or putting on airplane mode for a time may still do you some good!!! IMSI catchers rely upon being the strongest signal in an area [cells automatically connect to whatever seems to be the strongest signal carrier]. From what I understand IMSI catchers have a limited range and basically a max capacity of how many phones they can support while still being the strongest signal in a given area. So for large protests, they'd need to deploy a lot of trucks with IMSI catchers to collect lots of data about crowds. IN MY PERSONAL PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE, which is not universal and may be out dated information, the Chicago police tend to use cell phone jammers [which prevent you from getting a signal at all]. This way they can try to stop protesters from calling/texting each other- make an out strategy with the people accompanying you about where to rendezvous if you're separated. Here is a little information regarding IMSI catcher use in Illinois."The law permits law enforcement agencies to use CSS devices only to locate, track the location of, or identify a communications device—in other words, they cannot configure them to capture the content of any communications. [...] Is CPD abiding by state law rules? It is impossible to say without any record-keeping or audits. CPD has not responded to our most recent FOIA request for information about any new policies, procedures, or records on its use of this technology, so we can only assume that it has not developed any."

-That being said: many capabilities of your phone rely upon knowing where you are to work. So IMSI catchers aren't the only thing you need to worry about.

-If you're able, bring water and some first aid supplies [such as gauze, tape, antibacterial cream, saline solutions, gloves, wipes etc] for fellow protesters [and maybe snacks]. Even at past tepid protests, I've seen fellow protesters fall into glass or hurt themselves trying to climb into higher ground just to see. If you don't know how to administer first aid for things like lacerations, ASK FOR HELP. Many protests have people trained to help and we're all in this together. You might want to read this thread on gunshot wounds, it's better to loosely know what you're supposed to do, just in case. Learn to apply a tourniquet- hint, it’s not just putting a belt around someone’s leg. The snacks are to keep everyone’s spirits up and remind us that we’re in this TOGETHER.

-Running is easier with a backpack than a messenger bag, wear comfortable shoes, and have something to write with. The mood might strike you to change your sign a bit,

-If you’re protesting in an area that isn’t close to where you live, try and reach out to someone that lives in the area. You may need to get out quickly and no way to get home and need a safe house- in Chicago, the mayor instituted a curfew from 9pm-6am at 9:04 tonight after the city had blocked every bridge and shut down public transit. Protesters are now basically locked into our downtown area with no way to get home and the police are allowed to detain anyone outdoors.

-Check in with other protesters. Do your best to maintain social distancing, but try to make sure that your fellow protesters are not lagging behind due to injury or something else. Solidarity is the goal above all else.

Lori Lightfoot has kept the curfew in place and Chicagoans are expected off the streets between 9pm-6am until further notice unless they have an "essential job". Public transit has been stopped altogether in many areas- so if you have to go out, book enough time for you to walk there and back.

Here are some important reminders of your rights- if your are arrested, stopped in you car, and what to do with your phone. PLEASE READ THEM FOR YOUR SAFETY. KNOW YOUR RIGHTS.

IF YOU ARE STOPPED:

-In Chicago, the police are permitted to ask your name and address and other questions (to determine if you are involved in a past/present crime). I believe you only NEED to give them your name, regardless of how many questions they ask you.

-You should refresh yourself on how to properly invoke your right to remain silent. Remember to ask “Am I under arrest/being detained?” If they say yes, you HAVE to say “I’m invoking my right to a publicly provided lawyer, and my right to remain silent.” SAY EXACTLY THAT- variations of that phrase are NOT always effective and the cops will use any opportunity they can to undermine your rights and not give you a lawyer. YOU MUST STAY SILENT- otherwise you’re technically waiving your right to remain silent and MUST EXPLICITLY re-invoke your right when you’re done talking for it to apply.

IF YOU ARE STOPPED FOR QUESTIONING:

-Police may “pat-down” your clothing if they suspect a concealed weapon. The ACLU says do not physically resist, but make it clear that you don’t consent to any further search.

IF YOU ARE STOPPED IN YOUR CAR:

-Upon request, show them your driver’s license, registration, and proof of insurance. In certain cases, your car can be searched without a warrant as long as the police have probable cause. To protect yourself later, you should make it clear that you do not consent to a search. It is not lawful for police to arrest you simply for refusing to consent to a search.

ON THE TOPIC OF UNLOCKING YOUR PHONE:

I haven't found any hard and fast rules about whether or not you have to unlock your phone if you are held by the police. A Vox article from February 2020 says "If your phone is protected by a passcode or biometric unlocking features, there’s a chance cops can’t gain access to your personal data. But that’s not guaranteed. [...] But if your phone is locked with a passcode and law enforcement can’t hack into it, the Fifth Amendment may be your friend. Essentially, the Fifth Amendment says you can’t be compelled to give self-incriminating testimony. [...] Testimony, in this case, is defined as revealing the contents of your own mind. Therefore, civil rights advocates say, the government can’t force you to tell them your phone’s password." But this is still being played out in the courts- there's tons of pending cases and no real precedence for this on either side.

Freedom.press in an April 2020 article says "If you are arrested or taken into police custody, you should verbally state that you do not consent to a search of your devices. A law enforcement agency is only permitted to conduct a warrantless search of your device if a compelling case for an emergency can be made." There's a lot of potentially useful information in their article, which I will link in the comments.

REMEMBER- cops are easily protected most of the time for infringing on our rights regarding being searched if it could be considered "reasonably" legal for them to do so [even if it isn't]. Saying "I want a lawyer, dog" does not invoke your right to an attorney, being silent does not invoke your right to remain silent, if you do not verbally refuse to be searched your silence is taken as consent to be searched. The limited dissemination of information on the legality of searching a phone could protect them if they coerced/forced you to unlocking your phone.

If you are in Chicago and see a post/event about protesting today or tomorrow [June 1st]. DO RIGHT BY YOURSELF AND MAKE SURE IT'S A REAL PROTEST.

I've heard that some VERY suspicious people are putting together a BLM protest in Chicago tomorrow. These people are NOT experienced organizers, NOT affiliated with BLM Chicago, and NOT known to anyone in the Chicago organizing/protesting communities.

We KNOW that a lot of the rioting and looting in other cities were begun and propagated by the police and white supremacist groups [not by protesters or ordinary citizens]. We do not know if these people are cops, white supremacists, or just irresponsible folx, but it could very well be a trap to escalate violence, incarcerate allies, and justify the Mayor granting more restrictions on the city.

The source I saw was for the purpose of organizing medics to deal with the inevitable fall out, but protect yourself and your fellow protestors by not going to this sham event.

Hello everyone- protesting not your cup of tea? That's okay! Protesting is the showiest part of being an active citizen and activist, but it's by no means the most important part.

Below, I'll be posting links for people that need your money AND non-monetary ways you can help.

-If you know people protesting in your area, offer them a place to clean up afterwards and possibly crash if public transit is closed off. If you can safely offer them a shower and a place to change clothes- that can make a huge difference. It could help them evade being targeted by the police on the way home, buy them time to get home without being part of a crowd, and they may need a place to wash off residual tear gas or pepper spray [or the blood of a comrade]

-If there are protests in your area and you have extra supplies [water, pre-packaged snacks, materials for signs, gloves, first aid kits, masks, etc], you can hand them off to a protester OR leave them in a place they'll find them with a note.

-Be wary showing the faces of protesters on your social media or having them saved online. Be mindful about who you're sharing details of a protest or protesters with and try to do your best about sharing accurate information about donations. One of the bail funds in another city recently had someone set up a fake venmo account under the name of the bail fund and many people donated to it, believing they were helping bail people out.

-Your friends with small businesses may want help or need supplies boarding up their windows- most protesters are avoiding small businesses when things turn sour [and in fact, most looting and rioting appears to trace back to undercover cops and white supremacists right now] but it's still a good idea to close up shop if you can. See if anyone needs help securing their business. .-Make fliers about properly administering first aid, basic rights regarding being detained/questioned/arrested, and phone numbers of local communal bail funds.

-Many people who were on the fence about BLM, police brutality, and protesting are beginning to see the truth of it all now that the pandemic has forced us to confront racial/ethnic and class inequality. We have more allies than we did before- make sure to give them the toolkit necessary to enacting change.

Protesters need funds in so many places right now:

-Chicago Communal Bail https://chicagobond.org/

-ACLU Illinoishttps://www.aclu-il.org/en/donate

-BLM Chicago https://www.blacklivesmatterchicago.com/donate/

-The Family of George Floyd https://www.gofundme.com/f/georgefloyd

-Minnesota Freedom Fund https://minnesotafreedomfund.org/

-ACLU Minnesota https://www.aclu-mn.org/en/donate

-The Bail Project https://bailproject.org/

#BLM #BLM Chicago #Chicago #Protest #Protests #Protesting Advice #advice #just advice from your local Nikkeijin thats been protesting since they could walk

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rjzimmerman · 5 years ago

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Mylar balloons make me crazy. When I’m actively involved in volunteer work in the SoCal deserts, or just there for an extended period of time hiking and photographing or just enjoying the desert, I’ll spot about ten or so mylar balloons along the trails, up the canyon walls, down the slope, and will grab them if I can get to them, pop them and haul them out in my backpack. Forget the being ugly part; they are a threat to wildlife.

Excerpt from this story from EcoWatch:

Balloons are often seen as fun, harmless decorations. But they become deadly litter as soon as they are released into the air and forgotten.

Plastic pollution is one of today's biggest environmental challenges. Microplastics have been found in our drinking water, food and even the air we breathe. While many people are trying to reduce their use of single-use plastic bags, bottles, utensils and straws, balloons are often overlooked.

To help bring attention to the environmental dangers of released balloons, one of us (Lara O'Brien) created a citizen science survey to track and map balloon debris. This work is designed to raise awareness about the dangers of balloons, while also gathering data to help influence policies regulating celebratory balloon releases.

Deliberate releases of tens, hundreds or sometimes thousands of balloons are common sights at weddings, graduations, memorials, sporting events and other celebrations. These fleeting feel-good acts inflict long-lasting and potentially deadly consequences on the environment and wildlife.

Balloons filled with helium – a finite and rapidly dwindling resource – travel hundreds or even thousands of miles. They land as litter on beaches, rivers, lakes, oceans, forests and other natural areas. Both Mylar and latex balloons are a significant threat to wildlife, livestock and pets, which can be injured or killed from eating balloon fragments, getting tangled in long balloon ribbons or strings, or being spooked by the falling debris.

#balloons #helium

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televisedbirdwatching · 4 years ago

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Trash, Sweeps, and Life Unsheltered in Portland

“I understand that homeless people have it rough, but I don’t understand why they can’t just pick up after themselves better.”

It was a grey and depressing Portland morning in March of 2018, the time of year when people start getting excited about the end of winter, but before the time of year when everyone’s resolve is collectively crushed and we learn to accept to our sunless future. Some coworkers and I had the opportunity to earn some bonus money from our job by spending a few hours picking up trash in the neighborhood around our store.

“I don’t understand why they can’t just pick up after themselves,” said my coworker, as he tried to lift up a wet sock using a trash-grabber.

At the time, I didn’t really have anything to say to him. It was something that puzzled me, too. Walking around that part of town, it wasn’t uncommon to have to cross the street because a camp had completely blocked the sidewalk. Often times, although the tents themselves weren’t in the way, the outward sprawl of car parts, old tarps, abandoned box springs, and bicycles made passage difficult.

As with most of the things that I’ve learned since I first started working with unsheltered folks in Portland, the answer to my coworkers question was simpler and more direct than I imagined. I should have asked, Where are they going to put their trash? And then, who would come pick it up?

This photo is from a 2017 pilot project in Oakland that helped provide large-scale camps with trash service.

For the last few months, I’ve been working closely with a group called The People’s Store. We’re a mobile, pop-up, free “store” that helps unsheltered people get access to the daily care items they need. The things we carry in the store and the services we try to provide are informed by the unsheltered people we serve. One of the things that came up a few times was the need for a way to dispose of trash.

One of our volunteers pointed me in the direction of Metro’s Bag Program, a service our regional government has been providing since 2018. From their website: “Metro's bag program provides people who are experiencing homelessness with a way to dispose of their trash. The program started as a pilot in the fall of 2018 after Metro engaged local government representatives, law enforcement officers, community health workers and people experiencing homelessness to better understand disposal challenges for people living in camps, cars and RVs around greater Portland. In addition to providing disposal options, the program also aims to reduce litter and keep our communities clean and healthy.”

Metro distributes rolls of trash bags to camps around the Portland area, and there’s a phone number printed on the side of the bag that anyone can call to have the bag picked up by the RID Patrol, a task force on illegal dumping. RID Patrol employee Juan Garcia said in this article that “people living outside often offer to help him clean up. He recalls one site where a man was sweeping with a broom he'd made himself out of branches from a bush. ‘And he was literally making piles of rigid plastic and metal to recycle,’ he adds.

vimeo

For more info on the Bag program, check out this video, created in partnership with Metro and Outside the Frame, a group that provides youth experiencing homelessness a way to tell their stories through the medium of documentary film.

The same article quoted Richard Catlett, an unsheltered person helping Garcia clean up a camp on 82nd avenue. “‘Homeless people aren't trash. We aren't worthless,’ he said as he pointed to some garbage on the ground. ‘This is a by-product of how we're forced to live.’

Beyond barriers to trash disposal faced by unsheltered folks, Catlett is right to highlight the fact that life on the streets often involves many single-use, individually packaged, and non-durable or repairable items. When I first started volunteering at Street Roots, I noticed the popularity of the styrofoam and plastic Cup Noodles ramen soups. I studied sustainability in college, and there was something deep in my brain that felt bad about handing out single-use styrofoam containers, along with single-use plastic utensils, knowing they would end up in a landfill in short order. However, who am I to begrudge someone their only calories for the day because the packaging isn’t a suitably sustainable item?

In an attempt to distribute the most goods to the greatest number of people, many of the items that folks donate or distribute to unsheltered folks are cheap, bulk buys. It’s an honorable goal to be able to distribute 50 backpacks instead of 10. However, when these items can’t stand up to the rigors of life outside, they inevitably end up as trash. Even if repair of these items is possible, it’s often not worth the time nor the money to purchase the required supplies. Coupled with the fact that there aren’t many opportunities to dispose of trash items, these things pile up.

This flyer from Portland advocacy group Stop The Sweeps provides critical information about the city of Portland’s campsite sweeping policies. One of the criteria used by the city to determine which camps to sweep first is “Has significant garbage or debris.” Without providing a robust system for trash disposal, it’s not clear how this is a fair qualification for determining which camps to sweep.

However, there’s a parallel kind of logic present in the nature of sweeps themselves as a response to homelessness. The city provides few opportunities for unsheltered people to dispose of their trash, and then judges them based on their ability to keep their camps clean: The city provides few opportunities for people to access the supportive housing, and then disperses camps of people who already had nowhere else to go.

In an article on the Metro website, Solid Waste Planner Rob Nathan was quoted as follows: “We keep hearing from our partners that the more people are moved, the harder it is to provide them with transitional services, healthcare and housing—all those things we need to get people off the street. Our partners are really excited about this (the bag program) because they see this as a tool to help keep people stable, in one spot, and complained about less.”

In Portland, we’re incredibly lucky to have groups like Metro providing creative solutions to these problems with programs like the Bag program, and to have groups simultaneously creating low-barrier jobs and provide trash services through Central City Concern and Clean Start PDX. Programs like the bag program are a critical step in making sure that people can avoid getting swept and can experience the stability required to rebuild their lives. It’s clear that unsheltered folks want to help keep their camps clean- they just need the trash bags and trash service to do it. Programs like the bag program provide this support and help close the gap between the services housed people take for granted and the services unhoused people really need.

This photo is from a Street Roots article in the winter of 2019, when ODOT announced it was ramping up sweeps on ODOT property.

A few weeks ago, I was driving through a large camp in Laurelhurst Park, after making a supply drop for The People’s Store. As I drove by, I saw a woman using a broom to sweep off the sidewalk in front of her tent.

A few days ago I learned that the Laurelhurst Camp would be subject to a sweep. Notices were to be posted shortly, and folks would have 24-48 hours notice to bring their camp into compliance with city policy on trash, social distancing, and other criteria.

During the coronavirus pandemic, the CDC recommends that cities not clear encampments, as this can cause people to disperse throughout the community, making any kind of Covid-related contact tracing even more difficult. The CDC also recommends that cities ensure that nearby restroom facilities are available to unsheltered folks 24/7, and are “stocked with hand hygiene materials and bath tissue.”

What would Portland look like if we followed this recommendation, providing all of our community members with basic necessities like access to running water and trash disposal?

Sources, Inspiration, Further Reading:

https://www.oregonmetro.gov/news/bags-provide-garbage-service-those-without

https://www.oregonmetro.gov/news/garbage-pick-shines-light-stories-we-can-t-see

https://www.oregonmetro.gov/tools-living/garbage-and-recycling/report-dumped-garbage/bag-program

https://www.streetroots.org/news/2019/01/11/camp-sweep-comes-city-takes-over-odot-land

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inkskinned · 6 years ago

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literally just a dumb unorganized list of school tips

source: im a grad student. i’ve had a lot of school. also i’m adhd & mentally ill and require +8 organization. this is mostly directed @ college students, but maybe high school students can use it too, fuck, idk, it’s been forever since i was stuck in that hell hole

just say “professor” either ur using the correct title for a person (will make them feel good) or you’re giving them a bigger title on the assumption they deserve it (which will make them feel good) and also prevents having to ever i mean ever use their names

talk at least 1 time a week in each class, aim for 1 time a day. even lecture classes. i fucking hate talking in front of more than 5 people, so what i would do is prepare a question about the hw/etc (even if i didn’t need it answered) to ask the professor after class so they saw me and got used to me and saw i was invested in their class. about 89% of teachers - if they see you try, they will pass you. i mean it’s literally that easy. i know people who went from like a c- but because they legit tried, their grade got bumped up to a b-.

if u have to bring a laptop, pre-download the required material/screenshot it, and then turn off your wifi. it’s too easy to not listen.

physical writing will always give you more information recall over typing.

nobody cares about stupid shit anymore trust me they don’t remember that you were accidentally locked in a towel out of your room bc they have their own dumb shit that happened.... in college all the “cringe culture” turns into “god i wish that were me” culture ... wear ur onesie to a party trust me you make +800 friends and 799 of them will be girls telling you you’re adorable and they’d die for you

about locking urself out.... if ur like me and can breeze past post-it notes placed in obvious areas, don’t be a dumb bitch and rely on post-it-notes. while most schools offer 1 free lockout, dont rely on it - it once took 2 hours before someone could get to me. i was in a towel, which meant no phone. so like. anyway, what i do now is i put something on the handle of the door i have to open/unlock. i can’t just open the door w/out the thing falling down and making a loud “you dumb bitch unlock the door before u shower” sound.

this works for all important don’t-forget it things. other obstacles i’ve used to remind myself to do something include: putting a chair with my wholeass posterboard in front of the door, an entire printer with a single piece of paper that just read “for the love of god check to be sure you have that essay”, and a recycling bin i kept forgetting to empty. guess what bitch finally emptied the bin once it was between me and a swift exit!

no offense and like the whole “it’s the best years of your life!” thing is great but in reality everything goes better scholastically when you treat it as “i came here to win, not to make friends.” i still did make friends, went to parties every weekend, was popular enough i’d be invited to several on one night - but i came there to win. when i put my scholastic life and my mental health first, i went from a 2.0 to a 3.98. yes you can, bitch.

you’re spending the money. don’t squander it. trust me when i say i know plenty of people who breeze through, bc you often can. but like. don’t. challenge yourself bc like. talk about an investment.

if you hate your major, change it. don’t make your life something you can’t stand. on that note, do NOT agree 100% to a track until you have at least some experience in the field. i cannot tell u how many ppl i know who got their whole masters/phd program done, walked into their new profession, and were like, Oh Fuck, I Can’t Live Like This.

college literally offers so many free things and if you’re not taking advantage of them whenever possible i get it but like. try to take advantage of them. this is everything from your gym (which probably has free classes dude) to clubs to like. sober events. these sober events are so ... fuckin good dude i’ve made mason jars with little plants in em... bee aviaries... candles.... go to the free stuff

oh ps on free stuff i wanna say about 4 of 5 days there’s free food on campus just look for things like job fairs, presentations, or discussion groups. also while you’re there at the job fair like. u know, go to the job fair in earnest

i took off 2 years to work and also to just. recover from my bullshit. and it took me 6 years and 3 schools to get my bachelor’s. it wasn’t easy but bitch i lived. there’s no such thing as “too long” to graduate if that’s truly what you want to do.

if on the meal plan, eat as clean as you can the first week. then introduce each part of the cafeteria’s possibly-food-poisoning-creating foods one at a time. give @ least 2 days between each experiment so you know for sure if you get sick what caused it. i literally never eat meat at school but you can still get sick off of unwashed lettuce/salad dressing that hasn’t been refrigerated properly/weirdass things you won’t even think of. this prevents like. dying in a public bathroom.

white loaf bread can be gross & boring. discount bakery section for your slightly chewy artisianal bread needs. if overstale, either toast it or dunk it into water and microwave it (unless u got an oven. use the oven if u can)

steal as many apples from the dining hall/events/etc as physically possible just do it they keep FOREVER and @ some point you’ll be like. fUCK i need a nutrition. ps if you’re keeping them in ur backpack (i wouldn’t keep more than 2) make sure to wrap w/a few paper towels so if you drop your bag you don’t get apple mush

write it all down bitch. “i’ll remember it” no you won’t. unless you are capable of remembering every idea on this list and in order, you won’t remember it. in general, if you write something 3 times, you will recall it correctly at least 80% of the time. i also read it out loud to myself, bc, you know, auditory recall

DO NOT just put your assignment at the top of your notes, unless you’re 100% sure that will work for you. in most cases, it’s much better to have a planner/agenda/place you expect to look for assignments. +7 points if you lie to yourself about deadlines and move them all up.

like not to sound too much like a DARE ad but like. if you don’t like it/don’t want it, don’t fuckin do it. the idea that “there’s nothing to do if you don’t party” is such bullshit. like i promise if you’re like “i am a grouch and want to stay in and binge netflix” about 45 ppl will show up in pjs like “bitch fullscreen it, im a grouch too.” there’s also like. the chance to just.... not overindulge. on wednesdays i have “wine wednesdays” where we sit around and drink a glass of wine while we do our hw. it’s chill and friendly instead of like. drink until u vomit. don’t feel like you either gotta slam the breaks or the gas pedal, is what i mean.

PLEASE know the signs of alcohol poisoning/overdose. most schools have a “Safety Always Matters Most” policy, which means that you can call for help w/out getting into trouble. if you think someone is in danger, act. this also goes for making sure ppl get home safe even if they’re just incapacitated, not poisoned. step in, dudes.

also just. notice when ur starting to rely on stuff too much. i’m super easily addicted to things, so i keep a healthy distance from liquor. i don’t let myself “drink to feel better” bc that’s a scary, scary thing to link to feeling better. if you or somebody u know starts drinking all the time/gets anxious if they don’t drink/drinks in the daytime .... get help. schools have counselling services for a reason.

you’re gonna get a cold/flu of some sort in the first 2 months just brace for it. in the meantime, drink vitamin c, try not to touch too many handles, and when people say “there’s something going around” believe them.

watch kaplan nike just do it

if you can teach it, you know the material. a super good way of knowing if you studied the right way is to try and teach the material to a stuffed animal/imaginary class.

“i don’t know how to study” bitch me too the fuck. this is usually bc we’ve been taught that studying is just sitting down and staring @ ur notes. it’s not. it’s different for everyone, and you need to understand it’s 99% preventative care. if you don’t go to the class or do the homework, studying is going to fucking suck, bc you’re learning the material all at once for the first time. the place you should consider “studying” is “i’m confident in 70-90% of the material, but need to review.” do not let yourself fall behind .... just go to office hours and ask questions if ur not getting something. studying should feel like you’re remembering what you already knew but kinda forgot, not like you’ve been blindsided.

the whole “writing it down in ur own words” while u have been told this 700 times it really helps bc it means u gotta translate it through your own understanding. if you can’t, and it’s not bc the material seems too obvious to you to state in another way - ask yourself if you don’t understand the material. chances are u are missing a bit of info.

i know it’s like A Thing that Some People do but i never had the mental health points for it but i know some people just take 15 minutes after every class to review their notes. since i’m 100% early to every class ever, obnoxiously so, i try to do it before class. having the last class’s notes up in my head super helps. like. put down the phone i know you’re socially anxious me too but review those notes. chances are if u start flipping through pages other ppl will too. this is also fun bc as soon as you start this whole thing, at least one person will be like “is there a test?” no bitch there’s no test but im gonna be ready when there is!

literally so much of success is fucking posturing i could link about 800 peer-edited studies that show that when a student is expected to do well (and knows they are), they do well. like i literally didn’t change my appearance at all, never bothered to look nice (once winter hits i wear 67 layers all the time), but when i showed up after my 2 years off from school, i presented myself with the whole “i came here to win” vibe and people... really respected me? i mean in hs i remember ppl saying shit like “yeah, well, you aren’t gonna have the homework”. by the time i was in college i had an honest-to-god conversation which included someone being like “so tell me what you’re overachieving at right now” like they just expected it from me. wild.

i live by “bite off more than you can chew, and then CHEW IT” but it’s probably unhealthy. the truth is that i have a lot of energy all the time (lmao adhd!!!) and i used to get told i was “trying too hard” and for a long time (still???) i didn’t (i don’t?) know what that was, you know, bc i had a D average, clearly i wasn’t trying. it turns out i was just. putting all my energy into stuff that wasn’t making me happy like toxic friendships etc. when i decided “nope, all this energy is for me and my schoolwork”..... uhhhhh suddenly i was a golden child and everyone praised my try-hardness ... it’s a fuckt up system tbh

take at least 1 class just for fun. i try to do that every semester. it helps break up all the requirements. if you’re like an engineer and got no time or credits left to spend, try to audit your fun course.

make ur advisor love you i don’t care what it takes make them cupcakes show up to thank them i dONT CARE just do it

the library isn’t always the best place. if i start getting anxious bc i pavlovian train myself that library=work, i find a new place to go to do hw. try to go outside if you can!!! not like where i live bc like it’s snow all the time but try. a little green really really really helps depression.

if you’ve been in the same “Studying” place for 1 hour and haven’t done anything the chances are Something Isn’t Right. first, look @ ur body. are you not focusing bc of some pressing physical need? sometimes just taking a shower and coming back helps. are you uncomfy? are you too comfy and going to sleep? if body okay, look @ the material. do you not understand it? do you just need to switch to a new topic for a little bit? can you find a youtube video that will help you better understand it? make notes on what you don’t get so you can ask in the next class. if it’s not the material, it’s not ur bod, check the Actual Space. sometimes just getting up, going for a short walk to a new place, and trying it there actually? really works? if none of this is working.... try ur brain next. hardest to reset bc like, what, turn it on and off again? i use things like caffeine, a short workout, a nap, or a podcast all to just... give me a little boost.

don’t be afraid to leave. i mean this about class, friend groups, and the college ur at. just get up on outta there if ur not feelin it. i cannot recommend “drop the class” enough. even if it’s a required course see if u can switch the times if u hate the professor day 3 it’s not gonna get better just get the fuCK out

don’t nap in the same position u go to sleep in, nap upside down w/ur head away from ur pillow. don’t ask me why but it works to 1. fall asleep faster 2. make sure u sleep okay at night and 3. wake up less annoyed

on that note don’t ever do anything in ur bed in a sleeping position unless it’s genuinely sleeping in it. body will get confused. just sit up, lazybones.

when/if the library has those therapy dogs during finals week.... just go pet them make the time for it

ask before hugging people, but don’t expect a “yes”

get a backpack that fits and doesn’t hurt ur back u fuckin hippie idc how cool it is to wear ur backpack super low just don’t do it it’s not worth it

the tutoring center is a fucking goldmine.... free essay edits my dudes

bring a fan dorms are always hotter than u expect

switch dorms if u can if u realize ur in the wrong room/wrong roomate like just don’t bother with nonsense

when in doubt, follow preschool rules. tell ppl when they did something cool, just ask when u need help, and be confident even in your mistakes, because at least u tried

#anyway

6K notes · View notes

bazypitchandsimonsnow · 6 years ago

Text

The Black Swan

Chapter 11

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 6722

Chapter: 11/17 (All chapters)

Summary: Everything comes to a head.

Read on AO3

AN: Hello. Sorry this is late. If some of you don't already know, I've got pretty severe chronic headaches. They're unpredictable af and can completely incapacitate me, which they have for the past two days (hooray). But I'm mostly alright now, so here's the chapter! Enjoy :)

———————————————

“And now, block,” David said as he brought his sword down. He was moving slower than a normal fight, but faster than would probably be safe for a normal person. But Simon blocked him with ease, two hands tight on the hilt, legs bracing himself against David. His arms barely shook with effort anymore. Years of training were paying off. Simon didn’t care though. He didn’t really care about much of anything lately.

“Good,” David said, though his voice was more neutral. “What do you do now?”

Simon didn’t bother to answer verbally. He rarely had the energy for words these past few days. Instead, he simply did what he knew. He stepped to the side and stuck his leg out. David purposely tripped, and Simon pressed the flat of his sword to the back of his neck. In a real fight he’d use the edge, of course. However if this were a real fight, Simon would never have a chance to get this close to a master sword fighter like David.

“Good, Simon. Now let me up”

Simon took a second longer than normal to let David up. Everything Simon did was taking a second longer lately. He felt like he was moving through a fog for the past six days. He followed a normal routine. Got up, ate his meals, did his studies, did his training, went to sleep, then repeat. Simple enough. But the world was murky, unreal, so unbelievably distant. Simon was just...numb. And he would hate it, if he felt anything at all.

David stood straight and sheathed his sword. “Good work, Simon.”

“Thank you, sir,” he replied mechanically.

“Have you been training more?”

“No, sir.” A lie, but Simon didn’t want to explain his extra training to David. Besides, lying was apparently part of who he was. Why not embrace it?

“Hm, well, you’re doing alright. If you put as much effort into your policy readings and magic as you did your sword work, you’d be the perfect heir.”

It was typical David. A derision disguised as a compliment. Simon might be hurt on any other day. Today, he just nodded as he sheathed his own sword.

“How is your magic going?” David asked.

“It’s the same,” Simon replied. Which was probably not a lie. He hadn’t tried to do any magic in days, but it was most likely still the same level of terrible.

“Well, there’s always room for improvement. Why don’t we practice your fire magic? You’ve always been weak in that area. Go put away your sword and get your wand.”

“Okay.”

Simon’s journey to his room happened in snapshots. He was in the training ring, then the stairway, then his room. He barely registered moving from one place to the other. That had been happening to him a lot since the horrible night. Simon was too out of it to notice a lot of life as it passed him by.

His room was even more of a mess than usual. He didn’t care enough to fix it, but now it was coming back to bite him in the arse. Because now Simon had to sort through the sea of clothing and midnight snack leftovers for a tiny bone stick. Simon almost felt annoyed. He threw clothes about, scone crumbs falling down on him like rain. Some would probably get in his hair, but that wasn’t unusual for him. He casually looked, lazily tossing things about. Piles were put into different piles. Things were kicked into corners. The floor was slowly cleared.

But there was no wand. And Simon started to feel something for the first time in days; panic.

He threw everything around again, but far more frantically. It was like a tornado flew through his room. He looked through everything three times, but still no fucking wand. Eventually there was no more places to look. Simon was sweating and hyperventilating. Where the hell else could it be? Simon thought. He eyes fell to ground, and soon locked on a piece of fabric. His breath hitched. It was the strap of his rucksack.

Simon hadn’t touched the bag since his last night at the lake. Looking at it was painful enough. He feared touching it would physically burn. Except now he didn’t have a choice. He knew he tended to stick everything in there. And a wand counted as “everything." With a shaking hand, he grabbed the backpack. It didn’t burn, though a pit did form in his stomach that threatened to eat him whole. The memories almost brought tears to his eyes again. He still opened the bag anyway.

There were the usual things that never left the bag, like his dagger and a spare shirt in case his got dirty. There was also the copy of Swan Lake he’d borrowed from Canterbury, and a now very old sour cherry scone, both pathetic peace offerings to Baz that he never even got the chance to take out. He carefully took the scone out as to not get more crumbs all over his stuff. Once everything was taken out piece by piece, Simon’s eyes went wide.

As if life didn’t have it in for him already, things were only worse. There was no wand in his bag. But there was a small hole, just the exact size of a stupid bone stick.

Simon remembered the way he snatched his bag and ran from the lake. How it jostled and everything rattled around. How easy it would have been for his wand to slip out of that hole while he was stomping away crying from the man he might be in love with.

Simon’s wand was in the lake. Where Baz was. And Baz never wanted to see Simon ever again. But Simon needed his wand.

Fuck.

“Simon? What’s taking so long?”

David’s voice was close. Simon inhaled sharply, then threw his blanket over his stuff. He didn’t need David asking questions. It was just in time, as David walked in the next second without knocking. They stared at each other for a long moment. Simon hoped David didn’t see the panic in his eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asked slowly.

“N-Nothing,” Simon said. “I was just...uh...” Looking for the wand I left in the secret hiding place where the probable love of my life who hates me lives, his brain oh so helpfully supplied. Like he could even say anything like that to David. “I-I’m just thinking...could we, uh, leave the magic training until tomorrow? My arms are tired from swords, and I’m not sure I could even lift a wand right now.”

He chuckled, trying to laugh it off, which was futile with David. His eyes narrowed on Simon, arms crossed over his chest. “Oh really?”

Simon rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, yeah. W-Would that be okay? We’ve been training a lot. I could use a break.”

David’s eyes got even smaller. “There are no breaks in ruling, Simon, I’ve told you this.”

“I-I know, I just, I’ve been doing well. Maybe...I could take just one afternoon off?”

David stared at him for a long time. Simon’s pulse was beating in his ears. He silently prayed that David would be accommodating for once in his goddamn life. And thankfully, his prayers were answered.

“Very well,” he sighed. “You have been working hard. You may take the afternoon off.”

Simon let out a breath. “Thank you, Sir.”

David nodded curtly. “Rest well, Simon.”

He turned around and walked briskly out of the room. Simon let the muscles in his arms relax, head hanging between his shoulders. One fight down, one more to go. Simon would have to return to the lake tonight. The idea of that filled him with so much dread, so much anxiety, and just the tiniest, most minuscule sliver of hope. It had been days. Maybe Baz was ready to talk. Maybe they could fix things.

It was strange to feel such a mix of emotion after days of nothing. It was overwhelming, but Simon could cope. Because he could go see Baz. Even if he still hated Simon, Simon might see Baz's face again.

That was the only thing he was looking forward to in almost a week.

———————————————

Simon first worried he might have forgotten how to get to Baz’s lake. But the second he reached the edge of the Forbidden Lands, it was pure muscle memory. His feet knew the exact route through the treacherous wood. He didn’t bring his sword or dagger in a show of peace, so he hoped nothing was going to jump out at him. All he had in his bag was Swan Lake and a new scone, a second attempt at a pathetic peace offering. He hoped it was enough. It wouldn’t be, but Simon desperately wanted to hope.

He got closer and closer to the invisibility shield. His pulse increased with every step. Simon soon reached the three white birch trees that signaled his usual entrance. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, and-

Wait. Was that...smoke?

There was a smell of smoke. And it was coming from just ahead.

For the second time that day, Simon started to panic.

His body went into autopilot. Simon’s feet flew like a wind, and he soon fell off the invisible cliff into the invisible lake. His magic somewhat cushioned his impact. But it didn’t cover up the black smoke all around him, or the flames licking at his heels.

It was all on fire. Almost the entire lake was engulfed in flames. Simon coughed and covered his mouth. His eyes were watering from the heat. This was literally his worst nightmare brought to life, and somehow so much worse.

“Baz!?” he yelled. “Baz!”

There was no response, but the fire was so loud that Baz might be able to hear him. Or Baz was already dead. Simon wasn’t going to think about that.

Simon shielded his eyes and walked forward. He did his best to clear the flames away with his magic, but the path in front of him was still burning. His watery eyes scanned the area. He saw the scorched grass, and flames reaching the cottage, and finally the flash of black hair under a tree. Simon ran towards the tree, fire be damned.

“Baz!” he shouted.

Baz was sitting under the burning tree, knees to his chest and face hidden. Just as Simon got close, Baz lifted his head. He blinked his puffy eyes at Simon. His cheeks were tear streaked, but Simon had a feeling they weren’t from the heat of the fire.

“Simon?” he said weakly. “Is that really you? I’m not dreaming?”

Simon stood in front of Baz, breathing heavily. “Yeah, yeah it’s me. What the hell is going on?! Why is everything on fire?!”

Baz’s face fell even more. With a weak hand, he lifted up something from behind his leg. Simon’s eyes went wide. It was his wand. And when Baz held it, it spit fire out in a weak sputter.

“You left this,” Baz said weakly. “I found it a few days ago. I picked it up tonight, and just...thought about how mad I was. Then fire started coming out. I couldn’t stop it no matter how hard I tried, and I couldn’t put it out. But then I thought, ‘what’s the point?’”

Simon dropped his sack and went to his knees in front of Baz. He wanted to touch Baz, but he still wasn’t sure if he was allowed. “No, Baz, d-don’t say that. There’s a point! There always is!”

Baz didn’t snap or fight. It seemed all the fight was drained out of him. He pulled in on himself even more. “No, not this time.” Fresh tears fell down his face. His mouth quavered. “I really forgot how horrible it was, to be alone and cursed with no chance of freedom. And I...I can’t live like that again. I’d rather burn."

He tried to spit the last word, but it came out more like a choked sob. Simon’s heart had dead for almost a week, but it was most certainly alive now, and it was splintering in two. He shuffled forward, needing to be closer to Baz.

“No, Baz, please don’t say that,” he said desperately.

“It’s true,” Baz muttered. “You were my last chance at escape, and I pushed you away. You’re probably just here to get your wand.” He waved it weakly, making it dribble more fire.

Simon gulped, because he couldn’t deny it. But that wasn’t important anymore. He put his hands on Baz’s knees. He didn’t care if he was allowed, he just needed Baz to know he wasn’t alone.

“Baz, you didn’t push me away. I’m right here.”

“Why?!” It wasn’t an accusation, but a plea. Baz’s teary eyes were round with sadness and bewilderment. “Why would you ever want to be here with me again? I said such horrible things. I hurt you and pretended not to care. You should hate me!”

“I don’t! I forgive you! I-I hurt you too, and I’m sorry as well!” Simon’s voice was strained and desperate, but he truly meant it. He forgave Baz instantly. None of what happened before even mattered anymore at the moment. Now he just didn’t want to lose him for good.

But the look on Baz’s face said he didn’t believe him. “I’m sorry, Simon, I-I just, I can’t live like this anymore.”

He let his head fall forward onto his knees, his entire body shaking. The flames were crawling towards him. Simon’s heart raced and ached. He thought of Swan Lake, of Odette and Siegfried, of the word written on that last page.

I won’t let our story end like theirs, Simon thought.

He reached forward, grabbed Baz’s head, and tilted his face up. Simon looked straight into Baz’s blood shot grey eyes and refused to look anywhere else.

“Baz,” he said firmly, “you deserve to live. No matter how messed up everything is now, you should live, because you’re important. And you will escape this place, I promise, okay?” He leaned even closer. “I’ve never turned my back on you before. I’m not starting now.”

Baz tried to jerk away, but Simon refused to let go. He never wanted to let Baz go again.

“Simon...” Baz said, somewhere between a sob and a plea. He looked like was about to say something, something that would inevitably destroy Simon’s heart again.

So Simon kissed him.

Simon had thought so much about kissing Baz since the festival. Almost too much. How it would happen, when it would happen, how Baz’s mouth would feel pressed to his. Even after their falling out, a piece of his mind still fantasized about how they could have kissed if Simon hadn’t ruined everything. But here they were, under a tree, with the world burning down around them, nothing like how Simon imagined. And it was still incredible.

Baz’s lips were cold, colder than Simon remembered Agatha’s being. And they were soft. Simon had slept on silk sheets rougher than Baz’s mouth. It was an astounding, wonderful, life changing, world shaking revelation that he felt so ecstatic to know. He pressed hard against Baz, pushing him against the tree and holding his head in place. Baz gasped in surprise, and Simon wondered if he was about to get shoved into the flames. But then Baz pushed back, trying to match Simon’s furious, desperate movements with all his might. Simon felt instant relief. He held Baz tighter, kissed him harder, trying to push all his feelings in desires through his mouth. Lips slid together, panting breaths exchanged. Baz eventually relaxed somewhat, letting Simon shove him against the rough bark. Letting Simon just snog him for all he was worth.

Their mouths fit together so perfectly, like a key turning in it’s lock. And it opened so many doors in Simon’s mind. He knew the second his lips touched Baz’s that this was all he needed. Baz, not suffering, not in pain, just safe here in his arms, the two of them kissing so hard they forgot their lives. Simon would gladly die kissing Baz.

Simon’s eyes flew open. The flames were still licking at his feet. They were dangerously close to Baz. No, he couldn’t die kissing Baz. Because he refused to let Baz die.

Simon ripped their mouths apart. Both men were breathing heavily, half from the snogging, half from the copious amount of smoke in the air. Baz’s eyes were still half lidded and his cheeks were very flushed. He looked like a dream. Simon wanted to stare at him, but he couldn’t right now. He reached besides Baz and snatched his wand, then turned to the roaring flames.

“Out with thine flames!” he shouted. One fire went out, but it quickly re-lit. Simon growled. “Extinguish!” Still nothing. The magic was jamming up in Simon’s arm and fizzling out. His heart was beating so hard. He was going to die. Baz was going to die. He couldn’t let that happen.

Suddenly, cool fingers wrapped around Simon’s hand. He turned his head, and Baz’s eyes met his. They weren’t sad anymore. They were determined, strong, as fiery as the trees burned around them. He deftly plucked the wand from Simon’s hand, and pointed it over Simon’s shoulder.

"Out with thine flames!” he shouted, voice dripping with magic. Half the fire went out, but some stuff still burned. Baz tried again but the fire was unchanged.

Simon’s worry peaked again. Instinctively, he put a hand on Baz’s chest. Suddenly, he felt his magic somehow...push into Baz. It rushed like a roaring river into the other boy. Baz gasped. He looked at Simon, mouth hanging open. Simon’s breath was heavy. This was supposed to be impossible. But so much about both of them was already impossible. Why not this too?

“Try again” Simon said, voice strained but clear.

Baz nodded. He pointed the wand again, and shouted, “out with thine flames!”

His voice was thunder, more powerful than his captor’s. The fire went out with a rush of air so sudden Simon’s ears popped. Most of the ground was charred black and smoking. The cloaked man wouldn’t like this. It needed to be fixed. Simon looked at Baz again.

“Say, ‘as you were.’”

Baz’s brow furrowed. “What?”

Simon pushed more of his magic into Baz. Baz inhaled sharply. “Trust me, just say it.”

Baz, still breathing heavily, nodded. He pointed the wand. “As you were!”

One boom later, and it was all gone. Everything was returned to normal. It was like the fire had never been there in the first place. The grass was green and lush again, the trees completely unscathed. The lake was once again a beautiful prison of a sparkling blue water and strange floating lights. Simon let out a sigh of relief. Baz wouldn’t get in trouble with his horrific captor. Baz wouldn’t be burned to ash. Baz was safe.

Simon turned back to Baz. Baz was breathing hard, eyes wider than saucer plates, and arm still ramrod straight. Simon quickly realised he was still pushing magic into Baz. He removed his hand, and Baz’s arm fell as he let out a long sigh. The wand rolled on the ground. Baz’s eyes were slits. His chest slowly rose and fell, neatly matching Simon’s own. It took many moments before he founds words again.

“You’re a mage,” he whispered. Baz nodded weakly. “You can control my magic.” Baz nodded again. “H-How?! That’s not possible. You- You’re, how can you-”

Baz sighed, then grabbed Simon’s collar. Before he knew it, their mouths were crushed together again. Simon inhaled sharply, but didn’t move away.

Instead, he kissed Baz back with all he had. Just like he wanted.

———————————————

Simon wasn’t sure how long they spent sitting under that tree, holding Baz’s face, kissing him. It could’ve been minutes, hours, years, who knew. Time stretched into a meaningless infinity when Simon was kissing Baz. He still had a tight grip on Simon’s collar, lips moving furiously, obviously having no clue how to kiss. Simon didn’t mind. He just didn’t want to stop. Baz’s eyes were squeezed shut. Simon didn’t know if he was in pain or trying to shut the world out. He hoped it was the latter. He wanted to shut the world out too. He wanted it to just be the two of them forever.

There were so many things he wanted to do with Baz. Like this; he pushed his hand through Baz’s hair. The smooth strands slipped through his fingers, just like he thought they would. He clenched his fist to better shove Baz’s face into his. Baz inhaled through his nose, then suddenly pulled back.

“Sorry,” Simon said. (He was out of breath. It was embarrassing.)

“No,” Baz sighed, “it’s alright. We should just...” He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Everything isn’t on fire anymore, so we should talk.”

Simon felt the lump form in his throat. Part of him knew he shouldn’t be worried. Baz said he felt bad about what he said, he had kissed Simon back. But Simon was still scared. He felt like he’d just gotten Baz back. He didn’t want to lose him again.

But he nodded anyway. “Okay. Just, right here?”

Baz stretched his neck and rubbed his head. “No, this tree is very uncomfortable. Let’s sit against the cottage.”

“Okay.”

Simon stood up, but his legs were shaky. He used one arm to balance against the tree for a moment. Baz grabbed his elbow, keeping him steady. The lump in his throat lessened somewhat. His eyes flicked up to Baz, a small smile on his lips. Baz returned it. And Simon felt warmer than he had in a week.

They walked together to the now unscorched cottage, loosely holding hands. Both sat down together, shoulders against the wood, bodies turned towards each other. A long silence stretched out. Simon stared at their touching hands. At Baz’s fine bones and long fingers. He missed this. Not just holding Baz’s hand, but having him close. He felt better with Baz next to him. He meant what he said to Penelope. Here, holding Baz’s hand, he felt so real.

“Hi,” he said, almost wistfully.

Baz chuckled under his breath. “Hello,” he said.

“I-It’s been awhile.”

“I know.”

Simon gripped him a bit tighter. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I’m sorry. For not telling you, about being a prince. And for what I said, when I left. I don’t want you to be alone. I never want you to be alone, I-I was just being stupid and pissed and that’s not excuse but I-”

“Hey,” Baz placed a hand on his upper arm, thumb sweeping over his skin, “it’s alright, I accept your apology. I just...” He sighed and lifted his head to meet Simon’s eyes. He looked both sad and confused. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve understood. At least, I would’ve tried to.”

“I-I know. Well, I know now.”

Baz mouth tensed for a moment. “Did you think I’d tell my captor? I wouldn’t have. I never would’ve.”

Simon shook his head vigorously. “No no, not like. I trust you, Baz, I never thought you would do that. Honestly,” Simon sighed, “it was really selfish. I just hate the way people treat me as a prince. Like I’ll smack them if they don’t call me ‘your highness’. Even my friends talk about my royal duties a lot. But you...you never had to know. I could forget I was a prince and just...be myself with you.” He groaned and rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry, it was stupid. I should’ve told you. You wouldn’t have treated me like that. I was just a coward.”

Baz put both hands over Simon’s. Their eyes met again. Baz didn’t look sad or confused anymore. He looked sympathetic, a small smile on his face, and Simon let out a breath.

“I understand,” he whispered. “It was a bad choice, don’t be mistaken. You should’ve told me. But I understand why. And your reason is better than what I assumed.” His face fell, but this time, he looked ashamed. “If we’re trading apologies, I’m sorry too, Simon. I was horrible to you, and you didn’t deserve that. I didn’t mean what I said. I don’t think you lied about your childhood, or were trying to trick me, or using me for fun. And I certainly shouldn’t have dismissed all the horrible things you went through. I felt hurt and I lashed out. Which is not an excuse either. I’m so, so sorry.”

Simon shifted closer, his knees touching Baz’s. “I understand. I forgive you too.”

Baz let out a very relieved breath, all the tension leaving his face. The air suddenly felt less heavy, and not just because the fire was gone. Simon smiled weakly at Baz.

“You’re sorry, I’m sorry,” he sighed over dramatically. “What a pair of sorry messes we are.”

That made Baz laugh. Just a small, breathy giggle mostly out of his nose. But it was everything. It made Simon grin and chuckle as well. Their forehead fell forward, pressed against each other. They laughed together in the small space between them. Simon reached up and cupped the back of Baz’s neck. Baz gasped and his eyes flew open. Simon immediately moved his hand off.

“Sorr-”

“No,” Baz breathed out. “No, it’s fine. Just...” His eyes flicked down, red spreading on his cheeks. “No one has ever touched me there, or like...that. Affectionately. Romantically...”

Simon’s own face flushed. He knew Baz was inexperienced, what with being imprisoned alone for years and all, but it was another thing to see him like this; looking down all blushy, being so adorably innocent. It made Simon smile so hard his cheeks hurt.

“Is it okay if I do?” Simon whispered.

Baz bit his bottom lip and nodded. So Simon slowly moved back towards Baz’s neck. He touched him again, finger by finger, until he was holding him again. Baz’s eyes fluttered shut and he let out a long sigh. Simon closed his own eyes, letting himself sink into the feeling. Baz’s skin was tepid, and strangely smooth for someone who lived in the woods. Simon found that amusing. Black bristles of hair tickled his fingers. He ran his thumb over Baz’s sharp cheekbone. Baz squeezed his wrist. They sat like that for a long time, simply breathing each other in.

“I like this,” Simon said quietly, when he had the confidence to. “What we’re doing right now, I like it. And I...I liked kissing you too. A lot”

Baz giggled, breath ghosting over Simon’s skin. “So you didn’t just kiss me to get me out of my suicidal funk?”

He meant it as a joke, but Simon didn’t want it to be a joke. It was horrible. He held Baz’s neck tighter, shaking his head against Baz’s. “No, it wasn't that. I really wanted to. I’ve wanted to since the festival.”

Baz’s breath audibly hitched. He squeezed Simon’s wrist. Their noses brushed, sending sparks through Simon’s nerves. “So have I. Maybe even longer.” Baz moved his hand further up Simon’s arm. “And I like what we’re doing too.”

He said it, but Baz’s voice was slightly strained. Simon pulled back so he could see his face. Baz was half smiling, but his eyes looked pained. And Simon immediately knew there was something else tumbling around in his big brain.

“But...?” he said.

Baz sighed, using one hand to push hair from his face. “But, I’m still stuck here, indefinitely. If we do...this, being together, you’re tying yourself to someone who’s cursed. Wouldn’t you rather be with someone more normal?”

Simon let out a disbelieving laugh. He couldn’t help it. Baz’s brow furrowed, his mouth pulling into a frown. Simon beamed at him, rubbing Baz’s neck slowly.

“Baz,” he said firmly, “you don’t have to worry about that. I don’t want to be with anyone else. Because you’re one of the only, sometimes the only person that I feel normal with.”

The pain went away from Baz’s face in an instant, replaced with a relaxed smile. He squeezed Simon’s forearm. “That, is the most eloquent thing you’ve ever said.”

Simon laughed again, and Baz quickly followed. Their foreheads tapped again. Simon’s hand moved across Baz’s face, ending with his thumb pressing just under his lower lip. The giggling immediately stopped. The air was heavy again, but with something different, something better.

“Can I kiss you again?” Simon asked before he lost his nerve.

“Yes,” Baz said immediately. “And you...you don’t have to ask. You just...can.”

Simon grinned, and leaned forward to kiss him. It wasn’t frantic this time. It was slow, languid. Of course Simon knew that Baz had never kissed anyone before, but it was a bit more obvious when they kissed slowly like this. He was hesitant and exploratory, trying to figure out what to do in the same methodical way he approached sword fighting. And like sword fighting, along with everything else he did, he quickly figured it out. He tilted his head just right, learned to slot his lips perfectly with Simon’s, and soon his movements became so confident it was like he’d been kissing Simon for a lifetime. Simon would happily have a lifetime of kissing Baz.

Once breath was scare, they pulled apart. Of course, that was when Simon yawned.

“You tired, Simon?” he teased.

“Fuck off,” Simon grumbled. “I was training all day then I had to stay up to come here.”

“Aw, you poor sleepy angel.”

Simon shoved Baz’s shoulder. Baz snickered and grabbed his hand. When he pressed his lips to back of it, Simon’s flush went down to his neck. Baz smirked. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing. It was a relief to have their usual camaraderie back though.

“C’mon,” Baz said, tugging Simon to his feet. “You need sleep.”

Simon pouted, too tired to feel ashamed. “I want to spend time with you. I haven’t seen you in a week.”

Baz’s lip quirked up. “That’s very sweet, Simon, but you won’t have much fun when you’re exhausted.”

“I always have fun with you though.”

Baz sighed, exasperated but amused. “As do I. But you still need to sleep. So how about you sleep tonight, and we’ll have fun the next time you’re here, alright?”

Simon considered arguing more, but Baz had a point. And there was no point arguing with him. He was just as stubborn Simon. It was annoying and amazing. Simon couldn’t have found someone better for him.

“Okay,” Simon sighed. “As long as you help me up.”

Baz’s small smile turned into a beaming grin. “Gladly, love.”

He tugged Simon to his feet, and even let Simon fall against him, strong lean arms wrapped around his back and holding him up. Baz brought them both into the cottage and gently shut the door behind them. The cot was pristine again. (Vera must’ve taught Baz to make a bed well.) Baz pulled back the thick quilt. Simon collapsed on the cot instantly, sleep permeating his bones and mind. He let his eyes slide shut. Distantly, he heard Baz kneel next to him, pulling the blanket over his body with a free hand. Simon felt Baz’s cool lips be pressed to his forehead. He shuddered. Before tonight, no one had ever kissed Simon anywhere except his mouth. It seemed both of them were experiencing new things tonight.

“Goodnight, Simon,” he said softly, then started to stand up.

“Mm, no,” Simon whined and tugged on Baz’s hand. “Stay.”

Baz inhaled sharply. “I don’t usually sleep during the night...”

“Don’t care. Just want you to stay.” He tugged again. “Please?”

Simon could almost hear Baz thinking up there. He waited for what felt like an eternity, trying to resist sleep. But then he felt the blanket push back and the cot dip. He smiled and let go of Baz’s hand, but only so he could place it over his heart. It was beating wildly against Simon’s palm. There was a tiny bit of space between them, Baz’s arm resting lamely between them, and it felt too far away.

“You can touch me,” Simon said. “I don’t mind.”

Baz audibly gulped. “I, uh, I don’t know how.”

Simon laughed under his breath. He grabbed Baz’s arm and laid it across his side. He pulled him even closer, so Simon’s nose was almost against his chest. Baz was still hesitant, but he left his arm where it was. Simon traced a finger over his collarbone, touching the edge of his cotton shirt, brushing against his delicate silver chain. Bit by bit, Baz’s arm held him tighter, fingers pressing into his back.

“G’night.” Simon almost added “I love you” to that, but there had been enough excitement for tonight. He would save those words for another time.

Baz pressed his nose into Simon’s hair. “Sweet dreams, Simon.”

And when Simon drifted off, his dreams were undistinguished, but they were made of light and happiness and warmth.

———————————————

Waking up next to Baz was infinitely different than any other way Simon had ever woken up. He felt it all come into focus one by one. Baz’s arm on his side, his nose in his hair, their legs pressed against each other. It was like there was a wall between him and the outside world. Nothing could touch them. Simon didn’t want anything to touch them. He wanted Baz forever.

Simon sighed and gripped his shirt. Baz’s arm squeezed him.

“Good morning,” Baz said into his hair.

Simon pulled back to see Baz’s face. His eyes were half lidded, a small smile on his mouth. He looked like someone on the verge of drifting off.

“Did you sleep?” Simon asked.

Baz shook his head. “No. I told you, I don’t sleep at night.”

“So what, you’ve just been watching me sleep?”

“Maybe.”

Simon frowned sarcastically. “Creeper.”

Baz chuckled, pressing a kiss to Simon’s temple, and Simon all but melted into the cot. He was so happy. He never thought he could be this happy. And from the look on Baz’s face, he was too.

He pushed a curl from Simon’s forehead and sighed heavily. There was clearly something on his mind.

“What is it?” Simon asked.

Baz gently cupped Simon’s face, and Simon leaned into it. “I’m just realising, I never thought I could hate this curse anymore than I already do. But I do now.”

Simon’s brows pulled together. “Why?”

“Because,” he sighed, running his thumb just under Simon’s eye, “the sun’s about to come up. And once it does, I won’t be able to stay here holding you anymore.”

Simon’s entire face turned tomato red. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. No words felt sufficient for the supernova exploding in his chest. Baz chuckled.

“Cat got your tongue, Simon?”

“Shut up,” he mumbled.

Baz kept laughing, so Simon grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down until their mouths met. Baz gasped, but quickly melted into it. His fingers were splayed against Simon’s cheek, his other hand against the small of his back. They kissed slowly, peacefully, like they had all the time in the world.

But unfortunately, the sun was coming up.

Simon pulled away with a small sigh. He looked out the small window to see the dark orange sky. He instinctively held Baz tighter.

“I have to go soon,” Baz said, voice breaking slightly.

“I know. But I’ll be back, and so will you. And...” Simon’s mind drifted back his rucksack outside, with the scone and the book. The book that might hold the key to Baz’s freedom. “And I found something out west that might really help with your curse. I’ll leave it here. You can read it tonight, if you want.”

Baz looked unsure, but he nodded anyway. “Okay. I’ll take a look.”

“Good, good.” He looked to the window again. The sun was getting closer to the horizon. The glow around Baz’s body started to show. Their time tonight was almost up. Simon’s gripped Baz’s hand tightly. He didn’t want to let go, not yet. “Um, I know you don’t like it when I see you as a swan, but...would it be okay if I stayed? For a bit? I-I’ll go when you’re asleep. I just, I want to stay with you for a little longer...”

Baz was quiet for a long moment, longer than was probably appropriate for the amount of time they had. His glow was getting worse. Simon didn’t let go of his hand, and neither did Baz.

“Okay,” he said, voice strained. “Just, stay in here until after the sun rises please?”

Simon nodded vigorously. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

His grey eyes became unbelievably soft. He pressed a last kiss to his lips. When he pulled back, Simon chased his mouth, but Baz put a hand to his chest to keep him back. Simon let himself be pushed him back onto the cot. Baz stood up and walked to the door. His entire body was lit up now, minutes from changing. But he still took a second to look at Simon one more time. Simon smiled at him, and Baz smiled back just before he closed the door.

Simon flopped back on the bed, hand over his thundering chest. He needed a moment to catch his breath. So much had happened in less than twenty four hours. He and Baz were okay now. More than okay, they were together. Together in a way that involved soft words and kissing and everything Simon didn’t know he desperately wanted until Baz. Simon was grinning, he couldn’t stop grinning. He knew their problems weren’t over, but at least they had this. No matter what happened, they would have this.

The sunlight bled in through the window. Simon felt it was safe to get up. He slowly opened the cottage door, and opened it all the way when he saw the lake’s shore. Baz was sitting next to it, wings pulled in, neck still stretched up. His clothes were in a neat pile next to the door. Even though he had permission, Simon still walked toward him cautiously. Baz didn’t hop or fly away, so he took that as a good sign. He sat just next to Baz, knees pulled up and one hand on the ground between them.

“Uh, hi,” Simon said. “I-I don’t know what to say now, since you can’t really respond. With words...” Baz let out a series of little honks, which Simon assumed was the swan equivalent of a chuckle. Simon laughed and scooched closer. “Yeah, yeah, shut up.” He leaned even closer, but still kept a reasonable distance “I know you want to sleep, I won’t keep you up. I just, I wanted to do this because I want you to know that I...care about you no matter what. Swan or human. If that makes sense.”

He looked down. But it was hard to read Baz’s emotions when he was a swan. Simon was worried. Baz could see it completely differently. He didn’t like being a swan, maybe he didn’t want Simon to care for him at all like this, because he didn’t care for himself like this. But Simon did, and he wanted Baz to know.

He scratched at the back of his neck. “Can I, um, can I touch you?”

Baz’s eyes met his. It was still that deep sea grey. No matter what form, his eyes were gorgeous. He nodded his small bird head once, and Simon let out a sigh of relief. Simon placed a hand between his wings, just laying it on his black feathers and silver chain. He didn’t pet Baz though. That felt rude. Baz wasn’t a wild animal, and Simon wouldn’t treat him like one. And Baz seemed content. He curled his neck around and placed his head on Simon’s hand, eyes sliding shut. Simon’s heart felt so full it was painful.

In that moment, he made a promise to himself; he was never going to lose Baz ever again.

———————————————

AN: Aw, aren't they cute? :) Yeah, I can't keep them apart for too long. Next chapter is the longest one in the fic, I think, and the knight and warlock fic is still in the works (that's going slowly because of my headaches unfortunately) so look forward to those! Hope you enjoyed this :D

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #the mage #fluff #angst #fantasy au #the black swan #mysnowbazfic

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explorewithme123 · 5 years ago

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Burning Man Survival Kit

If you plan on going to burning man, here is an in depth what-to-bring list for a very successful burn!

Portable charger - Gotta keep your phone charged to document all those beautiful memories

Dust mask - It’s a desert, so, yeah, it will be dusty on the playa. Don’t forget about the sand storms!

Lingerie - You will want to look cute while also being as cool as possible, so lingerie will be helpful!

Breathable clothes - Yes, you want to be cute, but you also want to be comfortable. Also, the more pockets on your clothes, the better. It makes it convenient to carry things you might need.

Large hat - It gets super hot, so it’s nice to protect your scalp from sunburn while also receiving a bit of shade. Plus, they’re cute!

Lantern - This will be helpful to see at night whether it’s walking around the playa or finding your pj’s in your tent once it gets dark,

Bike - This is the main form of transportation at Burning Man. It’s way more convenient than walking everywhere, faster too! Pro tip: Add a basket and glow lights on your bike! Basket, for carrying around your items. Glow lights, to be seen at night, also known as, L-Wire.

Bike locks - Yes, the playa is supposed to be a place where you are safe and welcome, and if you are safe and welcome, it would seem like your belongings would be too. However there are rotten apples everywhere you go, so it’s best to hope for the best and prepare for the worst. I’m sure it would ruin your experience if your bike was stolen. It’s just wise to not have to learn the hard way.

Water - Yes, water. LOTS AND LOTS OF WATER. Trust me on this. The last thing you want is to be out in a desert without enough water. If you think you packed enough, pack a little more just in case. The recommended amount is 1.5 gallons of water per day, per person. This does not include what you will need to cook or wash yourself with either, so keep those extras in mind.

Boots - Boots will protect you from the playa ground and sand. Also, they will keep your feet warm at night once the temperature drops and you feel like you’re going to freeze.

Coat - The desert is hot hot hot in the daytime, and freezing cold at night, so in order to stay warm and not miss out on any activities, you will want to bring a coat.

Scarf - This one is not just for staying warm, this will also help protect your face during sand storms. A bandanna would help you too in this case, but if you are looking to not pack a whole lot, (since you kind of already are lol) it’s just better to carry things with you that are duel purpose.

Lotion - You will want to bring lotion with you. Being in the hot sun and sand the entire duration of the festival will dry out your skin A LOT.

Ziplock Bags - These are good to store things in to keep them from getting playa dust on them since it will get on anything and everything!

Aloe - Sun burns are an absolute pain. You will want to bring aloe.

Coolers - Yes, that’s multiple because you will most likely need multiple for storing all of your needed supplies. Food, ice, water, beer, wine, etc.

Walkie Talkies - Cell phone reception might not be a something always available while on the playa, so in order to keep up with your group, these are a handy source of communication.

Goggles - Not swimming goggles, although, they may work. I’m really not all that sure, but I’m talking Mad Max style goggles. These will protect your eyes from the dust storms.

CASH - There are zero ATM’s on the playa, so save yourself a headache, and bring cash for emergency items.

Toilet Paper - Bring plenty of TP. Just because you’re on vacation doesn’t mean your bladder is too.

Bungees & Rope & Cable Ties- You don’t think you will need them for your campsite until you do.

Tarp - This will provide shade at your campsite.

Flag - This is for your campsite. Join in on the creative side of Burning Man and rep your camp! Pro tip: DECORATE YOUR CAMP SITE.

Shallow Crate & Solar Shower - To mind Burning Man’s “Leave No Trace” policy, you will need something to catch your water and store it until you get to an area where you can dump your grey water. Use the shallow crate to catch the water from your solar shower! Pro tip: It gets extremely hot out during the day on the playa, so if you leave your water in the crate, usually the sun will evaporate it meaning you have no dumping to worry about!

5 Gallon Bucket - This will help store your grey water and/or trash. You can easily turn this into a compost bin for fruit and veggie scraps.

Camel Backpack - Stay hydrated! This will help you carry your water on your back for convenience.

Towels - Plenty of towels! Kind of self explanatory, dontcha think?

Matches & Portable Stove/Grill - This will help you light your grill, start a fire to stay warm, and cook yourself some good food!

Face Wipes & Hygiene Wipes - It’s going to be inconvenient to take a shower every time you feel unclean which will probably be a fair bit with all the playa dust flying around everywhere. Having wipes will help you stay feeling fresh even if you’ve gone a few days without a proper shower.

Dish Rack - If you’re going to be cooking, you’re going to need to wash dishes, so drying them will be a must.

Sharpies - Important to write down things you want to remember. Pen and paper will not be immediately available, and sharpies will help you not sweat off what you wrote down.

Cooking Utensils - Bring your spatulas, soup spoons, cutlery, bowls, strainer, measuring cups, plates, whatever you may need to eat and prepare your meals.

Cloth Napkins - This will help you adhere to the “Leave No Trace” policy while eating your meals.

Duct Tape - If duct tape can’t fix it, then it’s broken. Got a hole in your tent? Duct tape. Your shoe break? Duct tape. The list goes on and on.

Chairs - I sure hope you weren’t planning on standing the whole time. Pro tip: Create a little shaded area with your tarp, park your chairs underneath, and make yourself a relaxing little spot.

Lip Balm w/ SPF - Save your lips from the sun.

First Aid Kit - Accidents happen, be prepared.

Sunscreen - This is a big one, unless you like looking like a lobster and feeling like you’re walking two inches away from the sun.

Gifting Items - Gifting is a big thing on the playa. Everyone is supposed to contribute. This can be cereal bars, home made jewelry, water bottles. It doesn’t have to be anything super fancy, and it’s okay if you just bring a few things to gift. Sharing a meal with some one is also a form of gifting.

Full Length Mirror - Just because you’re getting dressed on a campsite in the desert doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to check yourself out, so why not?

Batteries - For flashlights, portable chargers, cd player, whatever you will need batteries for, prepare for!

Gasoline - This could be helpful for anyone bringing a generator or fueling a fire.

Grapefruit Seed Extract - This combined with sunlight aids sanitation which is important to all those people who are trying to keep up with their hygiene.

Extra Pro Tips:

Store food in mason jars to alleviate the amount of trash you have to worry about.

Get pedicure before you go! It will help your feet not crack and dry out so badly!

Decorate your campsite!

There is water for sale available on site. Keep in mind, festival prices will be a lot more than the Wal-Mart that’s by your house.

Smart Food Items:

Any and all canned foods

Beans

Rice

Fruits & Veggies

Popcorn

Dried fruit

Bean Burritos (Can of refried beans, canned tomatoes, flour tortillas)

Tuna

Saltine Crackers

Pickles

Tea

Coffee

Honey

Bread

Peanut Butter

Liquor & Wine

Chili

Apples & Bananas

Granola

Oatmeal

Boiled eggs

Potatoes

Miso Soup

Spices

Pastas

Bouillon cubes for soups

Flour

Oil

Soups

Sauces

Chips

Salsa

Seeds/Nuts

#survival #burningman #festival #music #burn #nevada #desert #camping #campsite

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serinemolecule · 6 years ago

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Things I wish people had told me about air travel

Americans keep getting annoyed at me for not telling them things, and they also keep getting annoyed at me for telling them things they already know. I don't actually know how to fix that situation, but writing infodumping posts on Tumblr is always safe, so I'm gonna do that.

This is a draft I never published because it’s way too infodumpy and doesn’t have as many jokes as my usual posts, but whatever, Tumblr is dying and some people might find this useful.

Before buying the ticket

Make sure you actually have permission to fly. If you're flying within the US, you'll need some sort of ID: A driver's license works (although with the Real ID mess, the TSA's been constantly threatening to ban certain states' driver's licenses). A passport definitely works. If you're flying domestically in other countries, I have no idea what their requirements are, but you're definitely always safe with a passport.

Keep in mind that "same country" doesn't necessarily mean "same travel jurisdiction". Chinese citizens aren't allowed to travel to Hong Kong without permission, etc etc.

If you're flying internationally, you'll definitely need a passport, and you'll often also need a visa. Many countries have "visa waiver" deals, which means you can travel to them without a visa, but only for a specific period of time (usually something like "less than three months").

Every country will have a customs process, with long lines and approximately half an hour of wait (sometimes shorter, sometimes longer), usually after the flight and before you're allowed to enter the country. It is possible, even if you've already gotten permission (even a visa!) to enter a country, for customs not to let you enter, and deport you to your country of citizenship.

The best way to make sure customs doesn't deport you is to already have bought your return flight, to know where you're staying in that country, and to have a consistent story of why you're in their country. If you haven't decided when to return and need to get a visa or get through customs, you can buy a refundable return flight (and refund it after you’re inside the country). If where you're staying is "it's complicated", you can buy refundable hotel reservations, (and refund them once you're in the country or got your visa).

You do not have to stick to the story you give customs. You can tell them you’re doing tourism for two weeks, they’ll give you a visa for like three months, and you can stay for two months in a different place you told them you’d stay, it’s fine. As long as you’re already past customs, you can do whatever you want as long as you leave before the visa says you have to.

Luggage, rules

Different airlines have different luggage policies. Most airlines let you bring one "personal item" (a purse or small backpack, which fits under the seat in front of you) and one "carry-on" (a larger backpack or small suitcase, which fits in the overhead compartments), for free.

Larger bags usually need to be "checked", which means you give it to them at the airport, and don't get it back until the end of your flights. Checking bags is sometimes free for international flights, but usually you'll be paying around $50–$120 each for them. Checked bags have weight limits (usually around 60 pounds), so be careful of those.

Budget airlines and "basic economy" tickets of major US airlines (so, the ticket you’ll get if you sort by “lowest price”) will usually only let you bring the personal item for free, and charge you for carry-on baggage.

There are lots of limitations for what you're allowed to bring onto the plane: No liquids above 3.5 oz (100 mL), no weapons (not even pocketknives). You can still bring these things in checked baggage.

You can't bring fresh plants and meats across international borders. They'll get confiscated.

Airport security and customs WILL look at what you bring. There's no way around this. It's also not an "every once in a while" thing - everything you bring will be X-rayed and they will look at the X-rays for anything you're not allowed to bring. Sometimes they miss things, but this should in no way be counted on.

Luggage, advice

Bringing clothes is the main thing that takes up space. You'll usually also want to bring toiletries, your phone, chargers, etc. Don't forget your passport. Some people bring books or laptops (you'll want _something_ to do while in a plane with no internet).

If you believe in yourself, you can fit all this in one backpack that counts as a "personal item". Which will let you actually take advantage of those really cheap tickets from budget airlines! You'll also be able to put that backpack into the overhead bins, giving you more legroom than you'd otherwise have, so this is useful even if you do have free carry-ons.

If you need more than one bag, it might still be useful to pack everything into one personal item and one carry-on. Not checking baggage means you don’t have to wait for it at the baggage claim, and you don’t have to deal with airlines losing your luggage (happens every once in a while) or being too rough with it and breaking stuff inside (luggage handlers literally throw baggage around, so if your checked baggage can’t handle being thrown, you’re going to have a bad time).

Buying the ticket

I usually just use Google Flights. People disagree about when the best time to buy flights is, but three weeks before is the usual recommended number. Check prices often to have a sense for them, and understand that the Google Flights quoted price is often the absolute lowest, and often don't include things like checked baggage, carry-on baggage, the ability to sit next to your friends, food or housing (more layovers mean you have to buy more expensive airport food or even hotels).

Ideally, you should be buying your ticket with a credit card that gives good rewards for buying plane tickets. The AmEx Platinum gives you 5 points per dollar on flights, and the Chase Sapphire Reserve gives you 3 points per dollar on flights - those are the ones I'd usually recommend.

Travel agencies can sometimes get you better deals on flights than normal. They can also overcharge you. Be very careful with them.

Finish reading this guide before actually buying the ticket, because I'm going to cover a lot of things that might affect your decision about which flight you end up buying.

After buying the ticket, you'll get an e-mail with information about your flights, so you can look back on it. Make sure not to forget about your flight. Put it on your calendar or set a reminder or something.

Fare classes

You probably know the difference between first class and economy, but there's:

- First class (international flights) - This can get really fancy in international flights. It's somewhat common to get an entire room to yourself on an airplane for these, with really fancy food, a bunch of amenities, etc.

- Business class (international flights) - Kind of like a lesser first class. Usually a seat that lies flat to sleep in, and some of the other benefits of first class, but less space.

- First class (domestic flights) - In domestic flights, it's usually just a larger seat, a meal, and drink service before the plane takes off. Not as nice as first class or business class in international flights. Delta has “Premium economy SELECT” which is this but for international flights.

- Premium economy - More legroom than a regular seat, and you get to get on the plane earlier. Sometimes you get nicer snacks. That's mostly it. Sometimes they also guarantee they won't force you to gate-check a bag. In international flights, premium economy seats will sometimes be wider than normal seats.

- Main cabin - "Normal economy." A regular seat. You get free meals for international flights but not domestic flights. You usually get free non-alcoholic drinks and snacks.

- Basic economy - They add restrictions like "you can't choose a seat" and "no free carry-on", to give you a slightly cheaper ticket. Usually to compete with budget airlines.

Budget airlines tend to treat everyone like they're in basic economy, and have nothing be free. Some budget airlines even charge for water.

Getting to the airport

Parking at an airport costs money, usually significant amounts, so most people don't drive to airports. The most straightforward way is usually to get a friend to drive you and another friend to pick you up. Other options include public transit and Uber/Lyft.

Most airports have multiple terminals. Make sure you know which terminal you need to go to (it’ll say on your ticket – you can also google the flight number). If you're driving, there'll be signs for every airline, so you can get directly to the check-in counter for your airline.

People disagree about how early you should get to the airport. Airlines recommend 2 hours for domestic flights and 3 hours for international flights. I usually do 1.5 hours and 2 hours, respectively. You can plan to have lunch at the airport – that way, if you're late, you only miss lunch, instead of missing your flight. Airport lounge access helps with that, because they have free food.

Remember that you have to get on your flight around half an hour before it takes off, so it's often literally impossible to get on the plane if you don't get to the airport at least ~50 minutes ahead of time, even if you don't get unlucky getting through security.

Checking in

You can skip check-in if you already have a ticket (printed from online check-in, or on your phone), and have no baggage to check.

Otherwise, you'll need to find your airline's check-in counter. If you drove, you should be dropped pretty close to it, so just look for signs for your airline. If you're lost, follow signs for "DEPARTURES" or “CHECK-IN”.

Airlines will sometimes talk about check-in fees to scare you into checking in online and printing your ticket beforehand. You don't actually need to – checking in at self-check-in machines is always free. Self-check-in machines are next to the check-in counter, and you should use them.

The one exception is if you have luggage you need to check. Then you'll actually need to go to a check-in counter, let them weigh and take your luggage, and get your ticket from them.

Getting to your plane

Once you have your ticket, you'll need to go through airport security. Thanks to 9/11, this process is kind of a mess.

Your ticket will tell you what gate you should be at. Follow signs for that gate (there'll sometimes be a sign for "ALL GATES" which you can follow instead), and sooner or later you'll get to security.

You'll have to put your carry-on and personal items into a conveyor belt to be scanned. You'll also need to take any laptop out of your carry-on and put your shoes, pocket contents, belt (if any), jacket, and laptop into bins for the scanner.

Then you'll need to walk into a backscatter machine, which will scan you for contraband and also let the security agents see you naked. If you don't want to see you naked, you can instead opt for alternate screening, which involves them groping you all over to look for contraband (they will be annoyed at you if you ask for this, because it's more work for them).

Sometimes, you will be "randomly selected" for additional screening. (You will be "randomly selected" significantly more often if you are brown.) This involves them actually rummaging through your luggage and asking you some questions about what you're bringing. Very rarely, they'll refuse to let you fly, but most of the time they'll just make you throw out the water or knife you accidentally brought.

You'll be able to skip most of this if you have TSA PreCheck.

Speeding up the process

There are various services you can pay for that let you get to your flight more quickly.

- CLEAR will let you skip security lines in most major US airports - TSA PreCheck gets you in a special PreCheck security line (which is usually shorter), and makes the security process go a lot faster - Global Entry lets you skip US customs, in addition to giving you PreCheck - NEXUS lets you skip Canadian customs, in addition to giving you Global Entry

Getting CLEAR is very straightforward, you just pay $99/year (you'll need a free Delta SkyMiles account). You can get it for cheaper/free if you have Delta medallion status.

Getting Global Entry is free if you have an AmEx Platinum or Chase Sapphire Reserve (otherwise, it’s $99 – don’t get it, just get NEXUS).

NEXUS is $50 but requires you to do the interview in a US/Canada border airport.

Global Entry and NEXUS are government programs (which is why they let you skip security), so they require you to go in for an interview, which can be a complicated process. It's totally worth it if you travel a lot, though.

Getting to your plane, part 2

Now that you're past security, continue following signs for your gate until you get there. Then, wait there until your flight starts to board.

Make sure to constantly check signs confirming that your flight is still leaving from there. Flights get gate changes all the time, and you won't always be able to hear the announcement.

You can spend your waiting time inside airport lounges, if you want. This will be nicer and you'll get free food, but airport lounges usually cost money and are not worth it. The main exception is if you have a credit card that lets you in for free (yep, such as AmEx Plat or CSR). This is the thing the AmEx Plat is best at - many credit cards give you Priority Pass membership which give you access to lounges for most international flights, but for domestic flights in the US, mostly only the AmEx Plat gives you free lounge access for US domestic flights.

AmEx and Priority Pass both have phone apps which will tell you, which airports have which lounges open to you, and how to find them.

Delays

Delays are pretty common, especially for budget airlines. Most delays are somewhat minor - after getting on the plane, you sit there for an hour or two while they fix what's wrong, before you can take off.

Sometimes, flights have to get cancelled entirely. More often, a delay will cause you to miss a flight transfer. Either way, you're left stranded in an airport that was not the airport you wanted to end up in.

Fortunately for you, airlines are obligated to get you to your destination eventually (or refund you)! Unfortunately for you, that's basically all they're obligated to do.

I once had to console a woman whose flight was delayed for 5 days - until the day before her return flight. They didn’t even give her a hotel or anything, they just made her sleep in the airport. If you don’t want this to be you, probably don’t fly Spirit Airlines.

But usually, the airline will at least buy you a hotel room and give you food vouchers, if you get delayed over a day.

Getting on your plane

At some point, you'll be asked to board the plane. If you get on the plane too late, you'll often be asked or forced to gate-check your carry-on. This involves giving them your carry-on bag right before you get on the plane, and getting it back at the end of the flight.

Choosing seats

Aisle seats make it easier to go to the bathroom, window seats let you look at scenery, middle seats give you neither benefit and can be pretty uncomfortable if you don't know the people on either side of you (and therefore can't cuddle with them).

Seats near the front of the plane let you get on and off earlier. Getting on earlier is nice because you're more likely to have space in the overhead bins for your carry-ons. Seats near the back of the plane are more likely to be empty, giving you more space. They also tend to be closer to the bathrooms.

Passing time on the plane

You'll need to put your phone in airplane mode before taking off. You also won't be able to use a computer during take-off and landing, so you'll need to be able to entertain yourself somehow during that time (which can be like an hour if you have delays).

Some planes have mini-TVs on every seat that you can use to watch various movies and TV shows for free. Longer flights are more likely to have them. They're not horrible, but they're not particularly nice to use. It's easier to bring a computer/iPad and preload it with movies you want to watch.

Some people bring books.

Some planes have in-flight wi-fi. Again, longer flights are more likely to have it. It'll cost around $20–$50 per flight.

Most first-class flights (except the extremely short ones) will give free meals. In economy, you'll usually only get free meals in international flights. You _can_ order meals on the plane, but most people think they aren't very good, so they eat in airport restaurants instead, or outside of the airport whenever possible.

Getting off the plane, domestic flight edition

Once the plane lands, you'll be able to turn your phone off airplane mode. Don't stand up until they say it's okay. Wait for everyone to get off the plane very slowly. Then get off.

Layovers

A layover is when you take multiple flights, stopping in multiple airports, to get to your final destination. Instead of a direct flight, where you'd just fly directly from one airport to where you want to go.

Short layovers are scary because you might miss your flight. Long layovers tend to be boring (although airport lounge access can alleviate that!). Overnight layovers are hell.

Overnight layovers

Overnight layovers are hell. Most airports hate it if you try to sleep in them. If you're forced to sleep in them due to delays, some of them are slightly nicer and give you cots. If you intentionally bought an overnight layover, though, you're probably sleeping on the floor (airport seats are usually intentionally designed so that you can't lie down in them). There will probably be bright lights and sometimes even loud music.

(On the other hand, it'll probably at least be better than sleeping on an airplane, where you usually won't even be able to lie down unless you're in international business/first class.)

Some airports have attached hotels for you to sleep in. These will cost $200–$400 a night, which will probably be more than what you save getting the flight with the overnight layover.

Some airports and/or lounges have nap areas. These are sometimes free, sometimes around $50/hour, but either way, they usually have time limits of like 2 hours, so you're not getting a full night's sleep in them.

sleepinginairports.net exists, and will helpfully give you advice about the specific airport you plan on sleeping in.

Getting out of the airport, domestic flight edition

Follow signs for "BAGGAGE CLAIM", even if you don't have any checked baggage (it's usually the only way out of the airport). If you do have checked baggage, well, you'll have to wait at baggage claim to pick it up. The baggage claim areas will have screens that tell you which flight's baggage is where.

The car pick-up area is usually near baggage claim. You can also follow signs for "GROUND TRANSPORTATION", which usually means buses and trains. Sometimes there'll be signs for specific kinds of public transit.

Getting out of the airport, international flight edition

During an international flight, you'll be given a customs form to fill out. It'll ask generic stuff like your name and passport number, and specific stuff about your trip, like when you're leaving and where you'll be staying. Customs might quiz you about what you're doing on your trip, so make sure what you write on the form is consistent with what you tell them.

After landing, instead of being in a gate area, signs will direct you to go to "CUSTOMS" (it's hard to get lost because you won't be allowed to go anywhere else), which will lead you through baggage claim to a pick-up area.

Sometimes, like when flying from Canada to the US, you'll go through customs before getting on the plane, rather than after. If you do, the rest of your flight will be treated as a US domestic flight (although you'll still need a passport to get on the plane).

#air travel #how to money

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