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songofsaraneth · 3 years

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an incomplete list of the Bullshit ive gone through this year (2021 only), for personal edification:

I am in grad school trying to do research as well as TA a lab class during a global pandemic

My car is broken into in late February outside of my apartment. $1700+ of my backpacking/camping gear and personal items were stolen from it. Ironically they did not find the $20 cash I had.

Car battery begins mysterious dying if left overnight and have to call for rescue from AAA 4 separate times over the course of March. I suspect it is related to being broken into but can’t prove it without a mechanic’s diagnostics.

First mechanic I bring my car to does nothing for the entire MONTH they have it, except break my air conditioning of all things. I live in a desert. It is now 90º every day. At one point they call me to say they can’t get the back doors to open. I walk 2 miles back to them from campus and demonstrate how the automatic doors work on a 2005 minivan. I begin to have regrets about my mechanic choice but the sunk fallacy cost keeps me there for several weeks.

Mid march I also wake up one day to severe jaw pain/a weird “loose” feeling, like my mouth is slanting sideways. It is midterms and I do not have time for this, so I take a lot of ibuprofen and eat soup for a week. After 3 days I shove pillows and blankets around my face one night to keep my jaw aligned and when I wake up the next morning it is severely tight instead of loose, and I have to carefully stretch it open whenever I leave my mouth closed for more than an hour. I guess I just have TMJ now.

At this point I am walking everywhere until bike supplies arrive to fix my flat tire since the bike store is too far away to walk to; including walking back and forth to campus since I can only bring 2-4 out of 8 students into the lab spaces at a time and so effectively have to run each weekly lab 2-4 times per week; as well as going back and forth for greenhouse experiment monitoring/helping undergrads on our NASA contest project

Early April I go to the dentist for a crown on one of my back molars, which I must pay for out of pocket because my new dental insurance purchased when I moved last September has a 1-year waiting period and so will not cover it ($1200). Stretching my jaw open so far for the procedure reignites my new TMJ back to high pain levels.

While still waiting on car in mid-April I have a severe averse reaction to the second dose of the Covid19 vaccine, resulting in painful ulceration of all the soft tissues in my body (mouth, stomach, genitals). It is a very bad time for 3 days and I book an urgent care appointment for the first time ever.

Urgent Care nurse-practitioner does not believe me when I describe what’s happening, and misdiagnoses me with herpes.

I am still biking everywhere but now I’m extra mad and in pain about it so take car back from mechanic so I can get groceries etc. I make an appointment with the dealership but it will be a week until they can take it. In the meanwhile I have to drive it every 8 hours so it won’t die which means getting up at 2am to drive it for 20 minutes in the middle of the night so it will still turn on in the morning.

I have a terrible reaction to the numbing cream given to me for the painful open sores over my body, because of a lifelong mint sensitivity, resulting in an even greater amount of pain

The dealership can fix my car over the following week but its $1800 and now insurance isn’t sure they want to cover it after all

Herpes test comes back negative and nurse apologizes profusely and recommends a non-mint OTC numbing cream alternative that works (yay) and a numbing spray that does not work because it turned out to use an alcohol based propellant which should not be combined with open wounds esp on the genitals (ouch ouch ouch). I try to tell the nurse why I was right about my diagnosis and she was wrong but she still believes it was a latent virus of some other variety and and not an immune response alone, despite the published case studies I have brought to back me up. I decide I have bigger hills I need to die on right now and stop arguing. Sores persist into May but eventually do go down and numbing cream keeps me moderately functioning.

Car is fixed and I can drive again but it takes 2 hours of crying on the phone to my insurance company for them to agree to cover the cost of repair

I make a primary care appointment for the first time in years so I can have a doctor in this state if something like this happens to me again, in June I do intake/bloodwork/set up appointments to check out some other issues ive been having

Grad school finals happen which i wont get into but Yeah. Finals stress triggers another outbreak of canker sores, but mostly clustered in my mouth and only 2 on my vulva rather than 8-12. I eat only soup for another week.

I get a referral to the local mental health clinic and call about setting up an appointment for an ADHD evaluation. They tell me to download and send in some paperwork and they will call when they have available appointments

I am supposed to be doing all my labwork over the summer but the committee member I need escapes my clutches and we don’t manage to set up a meeting to plan it out/for him to explain the protocols until late June

Bloodwork shows I am critically low in vitamin b12 and low in D, which may explain some of why I am so tired all the time

Ultrasound shows a 1.8cm mass in the adnexa near my left ovary. There are several options for what it can be (folicular cyst, other kind of cyst, tumor, ectopic pregnancy i nearly laugh at my Dr and reassure her the last one is not possible if nothing else). It may go away on its own or it may not. Follow up scan in 2 months

I remember I was supposed to email forms to the mental health clinic and finally send those in mid July. It seems cruel to make me be the one to remember this considering I am calling about a formal ADHD diagnosis.

I also finally pin everyone relating to my labwork down and have a follow up meeting + make a list of what we need to order, but the staff who place orders are on vacation and when they get back several reagents are backordered

I have my follow-up ultrasound. The tech takes lots of photos which indicates the mass is still present, but I won’t know any details until my next PCP appointment when they send over the analysis to her in mid-August

Beginning of August the reagents I need for the first steps of the process arrive exactly 1 day before I leave town for a wedding and the lab manager is about to leave town for the entire next week

After the wedding, severe thunderstorms and tornados trap me in Chicago for 4 extra days. I spend a lot of time at the airport or on my way between the airport and my parents house. A facebook friend gets video of the funnel clouds which at least gives me something to sadly email my advisor and committee members when I have to join our planning meeting from my gate at O’Hare

I lose my drivers license at the security checkpoint on my last trip through the airport and don’t realize until I am boarding the plane because of course that is happening to me now

On the shuttle from El Paso back to Las Cruces after this ordeal the driver stops and picks up a box labeled HUMAN BLOOD and puts it in the trunk and i am too tired to care anymore

I stay up all night making the world’s most pitiful r graphs for my meeting the next morning and everyone takes pity on me and does not call out how useless they are

I spend the weekend trying to motivate myself to actually go into the lab and start my procedures, and fail to leave my apartment. This reminds me it has now been a month (Aug 15th) since I sent in my paperwork and the mental health clinic has still not called me back about up an appointment

I get overwhelmed with Everything and make this list

So that’s where I’m at at the moment. And this doesn’t even include anything from 2020 thats just been continuous like, y’know, a global pandemic and having a bad breakup of a 4 year relationship and moving to a new city where I know no one for grad school etc. I feel like I’m falling apart/unable to do all the shit I need to right now but you know what? Actually its been a really bad time and maybe falling apart a little is justified ;_;

#ramblings #wharglbargle #like Damn its been a Time and i need to cry about it i guess #negativity //

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nonelvis · 4 years

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quarantine question time

courtesy @whifferdills

when was the last time you left your home?

I went for a walk this morning. I am fortunate enough to live near a large college campus, so I can mostly take my quiet side streets there and walk around without having to dodge too many people.

what was the last thing you bought?

If you count online shopping, I bought tea from the nice tea shop near me that is, of course, otherwise closed. But Friday I went to the grocery store and got a few extra staples – milk, fruit, green peppers – to hold us until I do a larger grocery run on Wednesday. Also marshmallow fluff to make ding dongs (WORTH IT).

is quarantine driving you insane or are you finally relaxed?

I’ve worked at home since late 2004, so I was already used to being in the house 75% of the time. But I have to admit that not being able to go take a walk to a destination, like the local poké or burrito joints, or being able to walk on the local bike path, which is way too crowded at the moment, is kind of getting to me. Plus there’s the general anxiety about running out of work and my friends running out of money and the literal criminal enterprise running my country, so I’d say I’m probably functional four days out of seven. Five on a good week.

who are you spending quarantine with?

My husband @violetimpudence and two kitties. Thank goodness the spouse and I are both very introverted and used to spending quiet time at home, or this would be a much more annoying quarantine than it already is.

do you have pets to keep you company?

Nicole (dilute tortie, below) and Noir (black, camera-shy). Nicole has adopted @violetimpudence‘s laptop bag for her naps:

what are your current responsibilities?

I run my own business, so I have to tend to current projects and clients. I expect things to slow down (unfortunately) within the next couple of months, though. A lot of my work is for higher ed, which is busy flipping out about whether they’ll even have students on campus in the fall, so as you can imagine, this means fun budget times are happening that ultimately affect whether there’s work for me at all.

do you have a room to yourself?

We own a house, so yeah, I can have a room to myself if I want one. Though the cats will inevitably follow me there.

are you exercising?

I’ve been diligent about exercising at least half an hour a day, not just because I’m trying to lose a little bit of weight, but also because at 50, it’s in my best interest to keep up healthy habits I should have started three decades ago. So every day, it’s a walk and/or weight work and/or running in place on my portable elliptical (it’s just foot pedals, but very handy) and/or yoga. I’m always going to be a chonky girl and am perfectly fine with that, but getting stronger and more flexible now while I still can is really important to me.

town, country, city?

I live in Greater Bostonia, in the most urban part of one of the close-in suburbs. Someday the Green Line may even run within a few blocks of my house, if I ever get to leave it again.

how’s your toilet paper supply?

Shockingly good! For once, my age-related forgetfulness is coming in handy: about a week or two before lockdown, I was totally convinced we were low on TP, so I went to BJ’s and got a giant pack of IDK, 30 rolls or something? And then it turned out we already had like half that same-sized pack in the basement because I’d relied on my shitty old neurons instead of actually walking down a flight of steps to check, so we unexpectedly lucked out on the TP front.

what’s the worst thing that you had to cancel?

Not officially cancelled yet, but we’re going to have to postpone our big summer trip to New Zealand and Australia. I can’t even think about it; that’s how upset I am.

what’s the best thing you’ve had to cancel?

Uh ... I guess the week where I was supposed to have a mammogram, dental cleaning, and annual physical, all of which got cancelled on me, was probably a net win, though every one of those is going to have to happen eventually.

who do you miss the most?

I can’t see my sister/brother-in-law/niece/nephew right now, nor the friends I was going to have dinner with right before the lockdown, nor a nearby friend I’m at least talking to on Twitter most days. And I’m worried about my mother, who’s on her own 400 miles from us, though she’s doing as well as she can right now.

do you have any new hobbies?

Not really, though I learned to make yogurt when I began having a hard time finding it at the store, and the homemade stuff is so good.

what are you watching the most?

I blew through Unorthodox on Netflix, and I frequently work out with Flavorful Origins on in the background even though it makes me both hungry and frustrated that I can’t get some of these ingredients here. And I’m finally catching up with Gourmet Makes like all the cool kids.

are you still going to work?

My commute down the hall to my office remains intact.

what are you out of?

We’re not out of anything yet, though I had a panic about running out of kosher salt – I haven’t seen Diamond Crystal at any of the stores I frequent – and that led to panic-buying salt, industrial bathroom paper towels, hand soap, and buttermilk powder online. Which you wouldn’t think it would be possible to panic-buy, much less panic-buy all of that at once, but did I mention the panic?

have you made any changes to your hair during quarantine?

I bought a pair of clippers online and have been buzzing my hair, which my stylist already did; I just can’t do the layering with scissors she could do on the top of my head. Honestly, though, the odds of my just using a #2 guard all over my head increase by the day.

Tagging: tagging is oppressive, so consider yourself tagged if you want to do this.

#meme

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this-is-plenty · 4 years

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Eco substitutions

I’ve just discovered a zero waste store near me and it has LOADS of eco alternatives to everyday plastics such as washing up sponges, dental floss and toothbrushes, even toilet paper wrapped in plastic.

As I use up my current supplies I’m going to look at these alternatives. I’ll probably start with getting bamboo cleansing pads to replace cotton balls or pads, and silk floss to replace the plastic stuff.

From there, though, there are bamboo toothbrushes, washable ‘kitchen roll’, beeswax wraps, cotton cleaning cloths. I’m just going to do it bit by bit. I think this is okay under my no shopping challenge because I would be buying more of the non-eco thing (cotton pads, for example) anyway so to buy the reusable item instead is fine.

#no shopping challenge #minimalism #eco living #sustainability

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prestigedentalproductsca · 1 year

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

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749.

How do you feel about full length beards? >> I have no specific feelings about them. Seems like they’d be obnoxious to care for, though. Have you ever been to a circus? >> Maybe? I don’t think so, but who knows. Do you know anyone who’s gone to a Fat Camp? >> No. Do you use Facebook IM everyday? >> No. How many surveys have you done already today? >> This is the first one I’ve done today. This is also the last one in my drafts, so unless some new ones magically appear in the tag real soon, it’ll probably be the only one I take today.

What’s the WORST show on Adult Swim? >> I don’t know, the only ones I watched were ones I liked. Do you have any relatives that have shunned you, or vice versa? >> --- Has anyone ever posted a HORRIBLE picture of you for everyone to see? >> Er, I don’t know. Not any time in recent memory. Which grade in school was the most fun for you? >> Ha... Which would you rather have, a new puppy or kitten? >> I would rather not have an animal foisted upon me right now. I don’t feel up to caring for another creature. Does drama seem to follow you everywhere you go? >> No. Do you ever just want to go away to a new place where no one knows you? >> I mean, hardly anyone knows me here, so what’s the real difference. I just want to go away to a new place where there are less people in general. You’re ordering a pizza, you can have any kind of toppings, what are they? >> When I order pizza, I get pepperoni, onions, mushrooms, and often some kind of pepper. Do you hit ‘quiet’ or ‘ignore’ on your cell? Which one usually? >> Er... when it rings, I just let it ring. Gives the person a chance to leave a message if they’re actually someone trying to reach me for something important. Do you ever regret giving your number to people? >> No, because I don’t give my number to people. Have you ever been told that you’re afraid of your own shadow? >> No. Have you ever tried Gouda cheese? >> Sure. Does/did your high school have pop machines? >> The last high school I attended did have vending machines. (I don’t remember if the other high schools did.) Do you use a public computer, or do you have your own? >> I have my own. Do you ever find it odd how you type LOL when you’re not really laughing? >> No, because I understand that its function has moved far beyond representing actual laughing-out-loud. Have you ever gambled? >> Aside from, like, scratch-off tickets, no. Do you know anyone who’s won the lottery? >> No. If you could work at any retail store, which one would it be? >> I wouldn’t, though. What’s the shortest you would ever cut your hair? >> I buzz my head every three weeks or so. Do you listen to any deathcore? >> Maybe. I don’t pay enough attention to genres to know. Do you subscribe to any teen magazines? Which ones? >> No. Do you know someone who never smiles? >> No. Has anyone ever made you feel uncomfortable at work? >> --- Do you still watch South Park? >> I actually watched an episode the other day, on recommendation. It was pretty good. I think South Park is a real hit-or-miss show, where the hits are decent but the misses are so heinous that that’s all anyone remembers, lol. I don’t think I’ll ever go back to actually watching it, it’s just not engaging enough for me, but I’ll always give a specific episode a shot if it’s recommended to me. Tell me one movie you’ve seen recently that sucked: >> I mean, I’ve seen several “ehhh...” movies recently, but none that I’d say were so blatantly awful that I needed eye bleach or anything. Jay and Silent Bob Reboot was probably the most ehhh of the bunch, but that’s the thing about that property -- it wasn’t terribly amazing to begin with, it was just easy to watch for some cheap laughs. So, like... expectations aren’t exactly high. Have you ever carved something into a dinner booth somewhere? >> No. When’s the last time you were carded at a bar? >> Last time I was at a bar that wasn’t Gardella’s, I guess. I get carded pretty regularly at new places or places I don’t frequent. Do you smoke little cigars? Have you ever tried them? >> No. Yes. You’re babysitting, what do you expect per hour for pay? >> --- What’s the last thing you returned at a store? >> I don’t remember. What’s the name of the last cat you pet? >> Spooky. Do you still look at clouds and make shapes of them? >> No. I don’t recall ever doing that, although it seems people do it in media a lot. If you had to dye your hair for one year, what color would you pick? >> No. I don’t even have enough hair to warrant dyeing it. Who’s got your heart? >> --- What’s your television addiction? >> I don’t have one. Have you ever stringed green beans before? >> No. What do you do to make yourself more relaxed when you’re nervous? >> I don’t know how to make myself more relaxed when I’m nervous. I just try to barrel through. Do you cook? If so, what’s the last thing you made? >> Not usually. Have you ever had any painful dental work done? If so, what? >> I had a tooth extracted, but it wasn’t anywhere near as painful as having a rotted tooth with an exposed nerve for two-plus years had been. How do you usually spend your Saturdays? >> Same way I spend any other day, mostly. When we’re not in pandemic mode, we also usually do grocery shopping on Saturdays and go to the Wayland house for laundry. Do you make your own jewelry or clothing? >> No. What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re bored? >> My experience of boredom is such that I don’t want to do anything when I feel it. It’s a pervasive restlessness. So I can’t possibly have a favourite thing to do in that state, because everything is equally unsatisfying (even things I generally enjoy doing). Do you use drawing to describe what you’re feeling? >> No. Do you like the smell of new school supplies? >> I don’t even know what that smell is. Do you give everything you do 100%? >> No. I don’t have that kind of energy. Do you shop at any independent music stores? >> Occasionally. There’s one downtown that I sometimes go to for records and patches. How do you feel about mainstream music? >> My negative feelings about modern music are directed towards the industry, not artists or genres. There’s a lot of popular music I enjoy, and there’s a lot I don’t. Just like with anything else.

What song lyrics describe your mood at the moment? >> --- Do you have healthy eating habits? >> My eating habits so far have not caused me any trouble, so I’m not going to stress about it.

If you could transform into any kind of animal, what animal would you be? >> *waggles my spider legs at you* Are you superstitious? If so, what are you superstitious about? >> No. If you could travel anywhere in the world where would it be? >> I mean, many places. What food disgusts you the most? >> Bananas. What is your favorite thing to cook? >> --- One place you would never want to get lost in in the dark? >> The rainforest? idk. Are you claustrophobic? >> In certain circumstances. What is your worst flaw? >> I don’t know. One thing that always creeps you out? >> Waterbugs. What is your biggest fear? >> Various possibilities around death. If you could be reincarnated, would you come back as another human or an animal? If an animal, what kind? >> --- Ideal way you’d like to die? >> Painlessly? I mean... If you could be roommates with anyone of your choice, who would you pick? >> I don’t want a roommate. What is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard? >> *shrug* Your favorite kind of dog? >> Pit bulls. Do you have any scars? If so, how many? >> Yeah. Many. What is your favorite scary movie to watch in the dark? >> *shrug* Would you rather be buried or cremated when you die? >> Buried, please. Preferably as green as possible. What is your favorite thing to drink? Alcoholic and non alcoholic? >> Alcoholic, absinthe. Non-alcoholic, ginger tea. What is your favorite food around the holidays? >> --- Easiest way to scare you? >> Depends on how on edge I am that day. Tell me one of your biggest secrets? >> --- What was your last nightmare about? >> I don’t remember. I wake up with emotional impressions more often than with actual dream details.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 5 years

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Hey batmom, do you have any advice on where to get dental dams/finger cots? None of the convenience stores near me have them. Can I get them online safely, are there specific brands? Thank you in advance

hi anon,

yay for practicing protected sex! it’s unfortunate that most of the world is still catching up when it comes to realizing that external condoms aren’t practical or even useful for everyone, but there are some work around.

if you’d like to support independent, queer-friendly sex stores, places like Smitten Kitten and Spectrum Boutique both sell dental dams online.

Spectrum Boutique also has tools for safer fingering, like these gloves, but let’s be real - 22 dollars is a little pricey, and 100 pairs of gloves isn’t a worthwhile investment for everyone. if you’d like to keep it a little cheaper, great news - finger cots are a run of the mill medical supply and pretty easy to order from, let’s say, walgreens, for a mere 7ish dollars for a pack of thirty.

#sex edventures 2019 #Anonymous

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metaphoricallyroger · 6 years

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With Love, From Me to You - iii of iv [R.T.]

Summary: One-hundred ways to say ‘I love you’ over twenty-eight years.

Words: 3,387

Warnings: Implied smut.

Note: This follows both Bohemian Rhapsody’s and real-life events (generally for dates, minor plot etc.), picture whichever Roger you fancy! The title is taken from ‘From Me To You’ by The Beatles.

51. (1977):

“Were you seriously just checking out that woman’s legs?” It wasn’t much to ask, you thought, to have a little attention from your boyfriend whom you haven’t seen for weeks.

But apparently, said boyfriend was too engrossed in the leg length of a party attendee.

“Her legs were longer than Brian’s, how could I not look?”

“I noticed too, but that doesn’t mean I stare when I’ve got my girlfriend sitting on my lap!” You screech and ignore his childlike poking to get a hold of your cigarette.

When Roger goes quiet, you look to the left to find him smiling affectionately at you. You raise your eyebrows, waiting to see what he wants.

“Can I hold your hand?”

His cheeky grin wins you over.

52. (1977):

The day seems to drag on and on as the rain slides down the windows of the recording studio while Queen tries to lay down tracks for their latest album.

Roger sighs and takes the headphones off after having finished his harmonies and watches Freddie put his own on, ready to do just as Roger had been.

“Taylor, your girlfriend is here,” the sound technician drones into the microphone without sparing you a glance.

Roger barrels through the door of the control room, much to the protests of his bandmates, grinning widely.

“I thought you had work today?” He says, giving you a surprised kiss.

“Got let off early. Thought you could use a distraction,” you smile. Roger returns it, immensely happy to get out of the studio if only for a brief period.

53. (1978):

Your head pops out of the duvet, peering at Roger with puffy eyes.

“I’m sorry that I made you cry,” Roger holds up the flowers he nicked from the neighbour’s yard which were really weeds.

“It’s not your fault,” you wipe at your red nose, “I’m hormonal on my period.”

“I really shouldn’t have eaten the last of that chocolate, I’ll buy you more, I swear.” He puts the ‘flowers’ on the bedside table and crawls into the bed.

He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you much like one would a baby.

“You will?”

“I’ll get you two,” he smacks a kiss against your cheek.

54. (1978):

Your hand moves across Roger’s forehead as he rests himself in your lap.

“One more chapter.”

“Roger, you’re falling asleep.” You can’t help but smile at the sleepy man who continuously burrows his nose into your thigh as you turn the pages of your book.

“It’s because you’re rubbing my head. You’re to blame here.”

You remove your hand but the fussy Roger grabs it and puts it right back to where it was.

“I think you’re tired because you just got back from tour. But if you insist, one more only.”

The blonde on your lap is suddenly quiet, asleep.

55. (1978):

You and Roger lay side by side late into the night when neither of you can sleep and this usually resorts to a game of questions until one of you falls under.

“Do you ever think about having kids?” He asks one insomnia-filled night. It wasn’t uncommon for questions to turn to the future, but the topic of children was yet to appear.

“With you?”

“With whomever,” he gestures in the air and you can feel the breeze on your face as his hand lands on the bed again.

“I’ve never really liked them if I’m honest.”

“Oh,” he says, sounding dejected.

“I think I’d like kids with you though.” You roll onto your side to look at his shining eyes.

“You would?”

“Yes. Could you imagine tiny Roger’s running around? We might prematurely age Brian.”

“Can we start now?” Despite the darkness, you can see his profile shift as he wiggles his eyebrows.

“We can practise how not to get pregnant.”

“Deal,” he rolls you to your back and climbs on top of you, laughing.

56. (1979):

“Have you ever thought about getting married?”

“Are you asking me if I want to get married to you?” You roll onto your stomach and prop yourself on your elbows, looking at Roger as he does the same.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“And you decided that four o’clock in the morning would be a good time to ask?” His tongue-in-teeth grin is all you need to know.

“Seemed like as good a time as any.”

“Alright.” Your hand subconsciously begins to trace around your ring finger where one was yet to appear.

“That a yes?”

“Seems so,” you mock and giggle when he bites your lip, dragging you back down to the mattress of a hotel in Hamburg.

57. (1979):

Brian has been graceful enough to lend you his camera after you left your own at home, and you were using every moment of your day with Roger to snap photos of the sights (which mainly included your fiancée in them).

“Love, you’re clogging up the flow of traffic, we’re going to get yelled at.”

“Yeah, but look at all of this, doesn’t it excite you?” Your hands make a sweeping motion over the city. You can’t decide what to focus on, the stores and markets Tokyo have to offer are unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.

“Seeing you excited makes me happy. Now come on,” he takes your hand, “let’s go get ripped off by a stall owner.”

58. (1979):

“Come on, let’s go outside.” Roger gives you a gentle tap on the arse.

“Why?”

“Because you’re about two seconds away from eating that pencil you’re chewin’.” You’ve decided to quit smoking after years of doing so, and it wasn’t proving as easy as you thought. The pencil acts as a placebo and aided a bit, aside from the fact that you’ll need a new one soon and probably dental work.

“What’s the point in this walk? It’s chilly.” You drag your feet along the concrete of the footpath that’s damp from afternoon showers.

“It’ll keep your mind off it. Besides,” he raises his eyebrows, “you get to look at my perky arse when I walk.”

Roger turns where he is leading you and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Could you get your cigarette breath out of my face, please?”

“You’ve got cigarette breath too, I don’t know what you’re complaining about.” He plants an even sloppier kiss for effect.

“Not for long anymore, trust me, next time you’re home from tour I’ll be minty fresh.”

“Is that a promise?” He tilts his head, and you could compare him to a puppy if you thought about it.

“More like a threat.”

59. (1980):

Freddie has taken it upon himself to be the EMCee of the event and has decided that people have been sitting around for far too long and not having any fun. A soft, romantic ballad that neither you nor Roger knew plays from speakers, clearly showing that you both were not in charge of the music. It’s time for your first dance as a married couple.

“Can I have this dance?” Roger glances up at you from where you just finished talking to guests at another table.

“Thought you’d never ask, Mrs Taylor.”

60. (1980):

After sneaking out of your own wedding, you and Roger stand in a conveniently unlocked, large, supply cupboard.

“You sure you want to do this?” You grin, leaning on your husband’s shoulder, “we’re the bride and groom, I think we’ll be missed.”

“Who cares?” Roger bites his lip and smirks. “It’s our wedding, after all.”

“You’re going to have to help me with my dress.”

61. (1980):

Whilst in the South of France on your honeymoon, Roger decides on both of your behalf’s that it is important for him to buy a Ferrari.

When you get the phone call that Roger just trashed his car, your fear-riddled mind thinks that he’s been gravely injured. That clearly isn’t the case because your husband is the one talking to you and still swearing in that high-pitched tone he affects when he’s angry.

“You’ve crashed your car?”

“No, I didn’t crash, the bloody things shit itself and caught on fire!” You hear a thump from the other end of the line and can picture Roger kicking the phone box in frustration.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, but my Ferrari is.”

He sounds more upset about the car rather than the fact that he could have died.

“Roger, I don’t care about the car, just about whether you’re okay. Where are you?”

During the time it took him to tell you where he was you had already grabbed the rental car keys and ran your fingers over the teeth of the Mercedes one anxiously.

“Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

62. (1980):

A bulky letter awaits Roger as he returns to his hotel room after soundcheck for the concert in Pittsburgh. He picks up the phone to call home, knowing with the time difference you’d be the only one left awake in the house at this time.

“Hey, love.”

“Did you get my letter?” Too electrified to contain yourself, you ask before you greet him, worrying that the letter you gave to Brian to give to Roger somehow got lost in the woes of international travel. You gave specific instructions, that he was under no circumstances allowed to open, and it was to be handed off when Roger became homesick or too stressed.

“Just did, but I haven’t read it yet. Should I now?”

“No!” You screech. “You have to wait until I’m off the phone.”

“So should I hang up now?”

“You have to tell me about your day first,” you know he can hear your teasing tone.

Roger begins telling you about his day, holding the phone between ear and shoulder, discreetly opening the letter and watching polaroids slip out with a smirk.

63. (1981):

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you wince, “my stomach just feels a bit off. That’s all.”

“Would you like me to rub your stomach?”

“I’m not one of Freddie’s cats.” Even with those words, you lie between Roger’s legs, back to chest so his hands flit comfortingly across your stomach.

64. (1981):

“I figured out why my stomach has been weird.”

“I told you not to eat that old take out. Didn’t you learn from that disaster years ago?” Roger barely spares you a look from the magazine he is reading.

“You’re going to be a father in the near future.”

His eyebrows hit his hairline as you sit next to him.

“I’m what?”

“You, me, parents.” You punctuate each word with a slight kiss.

“Parents,” he trails off, eyes stuck on the inconspicuous bump under your dressing gown.

65. (1981):

You were practically falling asleep next to Roger on the lounge at Freddie’s party despite the raucous and debauched atmosphere.

You adjust yourself against his shoulder and brace yourself as another server comes to offer you champagne once again.

“She’s not drinking tonight.” Roger easily dismisses the servers but takes a flute for himself.

“You pregnant or something, Y/N?” You look up at Brian who has a knowing look on his face.

You have a look of elation as you glance at him, causing the band members around you, family really, and their wives to all laugh.

66. (1981):

“Look after your Mum, okay?” You struggle to hold back a laugh as Roger gets down to his knees in the middle of the busy airport. He speaks directly to your stomach and his lashes flutter when he feels movement under his placed hand.

“They’ve still got two months before we meet them, I’ll be fine, Roger.”

“I know, I just worry.” His brows draw together as he looks up at you.

“I’ve got plenty of help, and Mum and Chrissy will be a wealth of knowledge. Believe me, this baby is well looked after, and so am I.”

You wrap one arm around his neck and your free hand over his, still resting against your stomach. You had thought that the constant touching on Roger’s behalf would drive you up the wall, and it has to a certain extent, but now you knew you are going to miss it.

“I’m still calling every chance I get.”

“You’d better.” You share a kiss before he pulls away with a smirk after the boys call out to him.

67. (1981):

“Watch your step.”

Roger helps you up the stairs to the nursery with a careful hand on your lower back. Typically, him fussing annoys the living daylights out of you but because you knew what he was doing today it was a welcome fussing.

“What do you think?” His hand uncovers your eyes.

“You did all of this?”

You were shipped out of the house to spend some time with Mary while Roger, with the help of his band members decorated and put together the flat-pack furniture you’d been seeing arrive the previous days.

The room has everything a baby could possibly need, and the change table was already stocked with enough nappies, wipes and baby powder to sink a battleship.

“Well, I did get some help from Fred on the decorating and Brian and John with the cot and such.” He blushes and rubs the back of his neck.

“But it was your idea.”

“All mine.” You wrap your arms around his neck and sway with him gently, kissing his stubbly jawline every so often.

“I think the baby will be very happy here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you smile whimsically, “especially with this.” You walk over to the cot and pick up the stuffed lion you had given him all those years ago.

“How could I forget about him? He’s important to us.”

68. (1981):

“You did well.”

“Only well?” You grin down at the tiny, fragile figure in your arms you have given life to. Roger passed her back once she started to fall asleep, and she now rests with her hand tucked in a fist under a rosy cheek.

“She’s perfect already, I’d say you did amazing.” His eyes are glistening with unbridled joy as he glances down at the yet-to-be-named Baby Taylor.

“Yeah, I don’t think we need anything for Christmas this year,” you joke.

69. (1982):

You and Roger practically went into hibernation mode after you had Zoe, and haven’t seen the band since before she was born. They all sit in your living room, passing her back and forth between each other and cooing every time she lets out a little grunt or a happy noise.

“Would you look at that, the little darling looks like Rog.” Freddie notices as he looks down at the baby currently snuggled in John’s arms.

“She’ll have his chin, I bet,” John smiles at the sleeping angel.

“Oh God,” Brian moans, “another Taylor running around.” You can see he doesn’t mean it as he has a small smile on his face when Zoe wraps her finger around his tightly.

Roger feels slightly defensive over his new baby, but he knows Brian is just ribbing him and smirks at the taller man.

“Yeah but this one is extra important because she’s half Y/N.”

70. (1982):

Since she was born, Zoe hasn’t slept through an entire night, and it was beginning to take its toll on you and Roger. You both love being parents, but the intimacy you once shared is no longer the same.

The intimacy comes in quiet moments when you’re looking after the baby, and you get to watch Roger’s smiles and one-sided conversations with her. It’s an even deeper form of intimacy that only comes when you share the role of caregiver.

“Roger, I’m tired, I’m not really in the mood.”

“Want to watch the telly instead?” Roger pulls back from where he was sucking on your neck and settles next to you, already grabbing for the remote.

“Are you sure?” You worry your bottom lip.

You miss being in bed with Roger, and the way he makes you feel when he’s pressed deep inside you, but you’re just so tired.

“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to.” He plants a kiss on your cheek and positions himself so you can lay on his chest, hand rubbing his hip.

71. (1982):

Roger pays an extravagant amount for flowers in the shop down the street from the restaurant where your work dinner is taking place. He knows that no expensive bunch of flowers can make up for being late to something that means a lot to you.

“Love! I’m so, so, sorry,” he tries to catch his breath as he finds you, about to get into the car.

“I really didn’t mean to-”

“No, I get it. Busy being a rock star and all,” you don’t even look at him as you unlock the doors, handing him the keys to drive.

“It’s not that at all,” he pleads, “I swear I didn’t mean to be late.”

“Whatever, let’s just go home.”

72. (1983):

“Look, Zoe, there’s your daddy,” you coo to the toddler waddling beside you.

“Hi, Bubs!” He calls to her. You and Roger barely stand three feet apart, arms extended in case she falls over. He missed her first steps but won’t miss her fully walking on her own as her little feet stomp over to him to wrap around his knees.

“Hello,” you smile as Roger scoops the giggling girl into his arms.

“I’m so glad to be back,” Roger sighs. You wrap one arm around his shoulder in a hug and let him guide you out of the busy airport.

73. (1983):

“Say it, say ‘dada’, Zoe.” You watch Roger with wide eyes as he moves his head side to side with every syllable.

“She’s not going to say it if you tell her to.”

“She will just you wait. Taylor women are very smart, just need some persuasion, that’s all.” He grabs the lion out of her hands and holds it above her fair head.

“Dada!” She finally shrieks and extends her arms to try and grab her lion back.

“See! So smart, just like her mother.”

“I’d yell too if you snatched my toy away.” You still sit down next to the pair and celebrate with them, mainly Roger, because Zoe’s too young to get why this is a big deal.

74. (1983):

You’re standing under the warmth of the shower spray when Roger barges into the room, raging about something or other to do with a new song.

“I’m trying to understand, Roger,” you sigh.

“I feel like I can’t tell you anything anymore,” he leans against the bathroom sink. You open the glass door of the shower with wide eyes, uncaring about your nakedness, paralysed.

“What? You’re my best friend, you absolutely can.” You grab onto his elbow when he scoffs and goes to turn away.

“I know I can. I want to, believe me. It’s just … hard.”

“It may take time, but you can tell me anything. Surely you have to know that.” You hold out your hand and invite him into the shower.

75. (1983):

Roger opens his eyes with a groan as the bright mid-morning sunlight streams into the room due to your opening of the curtains and windows.

“It smells like a brewery in here, get up.” You pull back the sheets and begin to remove them, rolling Roger’s dead weight across the mattress as he isn’t making any attempt to move.

“I’m hungover,” he moans.

“Whose fault is that hm? Not mine.”

��Can’t you leave me alone for once? I don’t feel well.” He rests his palm across his forehead and looks up at you with pleading eyes. It doesn’t do anything.

“That would have worked if you didn’t throw up all over my floor at four o’clock in the morning. You’re an adult, not a five year old. You should know when you aren’t feeling well.”

“I don’t know I’m not feeling great when I’m that drunk!”

“I understand that you’re having troubles with the band but if you keep coming home drunk, you’re going to have to find somewhere else to sleep.”

“You’re going to kick me out? Of my own house?”

“I paid for half of this house too, don’t forget.”

You pause and try to take a softer tone, brushing sun-streaked golden hair out of his eyes.

“I just want to help you, Roger. You don’t want to tell me what’s wrong and I’m already worried about you. Would you like a hug?”

Roger half crawls, half wiggles his way over to you.

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody imagine

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dentsma · 5 years

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lindoig4 · 5 years

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Now for Toronto

Our train to Toronto (actually two trains, one to Montreal and another from there to Toronto) didn’t leave until 5:30pm so we arranged a noon checkout and left our bags in the luggage room while we went shopping. We needed lunch, but also food for the 24-hour train trip. We stocked up, perhaps overstocked, with the necessaries, only to be told at the station that our meals were provided - contrary to the information we had been given previously. Hopefully, we now won’t need to buy much in Toronto.

The meals on the train were quite good, but there was not a lot to see on the first leg because it was dark for a little more than half the trip. Our cabin was cute with a bathroom at least as big as the one in our caravan, but it was a bit of a challenge for me climbing up to the top bunk without any sort of ladder. It was pretty rocky at times during the night, but not enough to warrant seasick meds! The most impressive sight along the way was the St Lawrence Seaway. It is MASSIVE and we crossed it twice - or was it thrice? We got into a long conversation at breakfast with a Canadian woman who is on her way to Australia for another holiday - she has been there before - and I think I missed one of the crossings at that time.

Our second train was a little less luxurious, seats rather than a cabin and only meals to purchase, so we used some of the goodies we bought yesterday and only bought our drinks. This was a more varied trip as far as scenery went. The first train went very largely though natural forest, but the second opened up into a lot more agriculture, corn farms mainly, but less trees adjacent to the track so we could see a lot more of the countryside, especially where it has been cleared. There are a lot more small towns, usually with very neat houses, with everything surrounded by green pastures, often sprinkled with clusters of yellow, white and pink wildflowers – very colourful.

Toronto! (Just for the record, according to my (previous) dentist, I am now officially dead! But I don’t believe it…… A couple of years ago, I had some outstandingly expensive dental work done, including some ultra-special porcelain fillings that he guaranteed would still be in pristine condition when I carked it. I have had a series of problems with the work done, or not done properly, and a couple of night ago, one of my $1000+ fillings came out - so I am obliged to conclude that I am now officially/dentally deceased. His guarantee obviously wasn’t worth much and I have long-since chosen a different dentist because of the other problems I have suffered so if anyone is thinking of using The Dental Company in Windsor, I suggest you consult widely before committing your superannuation fund to this practice.)

Toronto is a moderately big city – not sure what else I can say about it. We quite enjoyed our stay, but the city itself didn’t leap out at us as having anything to really recommend it to us.

Our first day there was Father’s Day and I got some wonderful message from the kids – so thank you! We had a fairly busy morning with washing, unpacking, downloading and sorting photos and so on and after lunch we just strolled down to a nearby parkland that had some great gardens, mainly in hothouses. There were several different areas with tropical plants, desert plants, orchids, and so on and we spent up to a couple of hours there browsing and photographing inside and outside. I spied some cute squirrels there too – darker and smaller than the others we have seen so tried to photograph them too – without a lot of success. I just love the cute little things. They are almost fluid in their movements and glide along quite beautifully – Heather thinks I am a bit obsessive, but they are such lovely little creatures that I can’t help myself. On the way back to the hotel, we found a supermarket and topped up a few supplies then went to the bar for Happy Hour drinks and a delicious snack.

Monday, we became uber-tourists (something we almost always eschew) and took a tour to Niagara Falls. It was the Labour Day public holiday in Canada so there were even more people there than normal (13 million tourists each year and most of them were there with us). It was nearly 150km to get there and it didn’t start well. One couple who were supposed to board the bus at the first stop with us never turned up – until more than half an hour later o the bus had to divert back to the starting point to collect them. They sat behind us and were also late back on two other viewing stops along the way. The also yabbered away in German right through the commentary, making it hard for us to follow what was being said. They were not the only people constantly talking and I finally shouted out for everyone to quieten down and it did improve a bit after that – except for the German couple.

The bus ride was very bumpy. I am pretty sure they left the suspension in the garage for repairs that day. And the emergency escape window near my ear has to be the loudest rattliest window in North America, but we made the best of it and enjoyed the day. The driver gave us a huge amount of information, talking almost continuously for the 90-minute trip to the helicopter field where a few of our number took a ride ($CA149 for 10 minutes) while the rest of us went a little further to the Whirlpool. The river (a huge torrent) comes in over some rapids into a big basin where it swirls around quite dramatically before taking a sharp turn to starboard and thence races further along the deep valley. While we were gawking at that, the bus went back to collect the helicopterists and we then went on to the actual Falls.

It is massive! The border between the US and Canada runs down the centre of the Niagara River and divides just before the Falls making it two Falls – the American Falls and the Canadian or Horseshoe Falls – the latter being much bigger than the former. The statistics are simply phenomenal – I think it was something like 20 million cubic feet of water a day – but looking at it, it might well be 2000 million! It is basically indescribable – and the photos don’t even start to do justice to the magnitude, the noise, the power, the beauty, the sheer magnificence of it – and remember that more than half the volume is already diverted to generate hydro-power.

We strolled along the viewing area ,a few hundred metres of it, gaping and photographing as we went before returning to the bus to take us to lunch We had a really nice 3-course meal in a restaurant that gave us a great view of the Falls – so out came the cameras again. After lunch we drove through the town area to where we queued for a boat trip to the foot of the Falls. You have to see the town to believe it. It would put Disneyland to shame I think, loaded with stalls, rides, every imaginable theme house, glitz and razzmatazz like you wouldn’t believe – not the least attractive to us, but I am sure it all makes many people very rich.

We all got kitted out like pink lollypops with flimsy ponchos before being crowded onto the boat. There was quite a breeze, mainly generated from the massive volume of water crashing down around us, so half the time, my poncho was blowing around my shoulders instead of keeping me dry. Approaching the gigantic curtain of water was like standing outside in a huge downpour. Even with my cape on and covering up as well as I could, my camera and one of my Hearing aids stopped working part-way through the 20-minute voyage. The noise was tremendous and floods of water assailed us constantly – so much so that a lot of the time, we couldn’t actually see a lot – we were too busy trying to wipe the gales of water out of our eyes. Back on shore, we dried out as much as possible and I got my camera and hearing aid working again (thank goodness for that – I was dreading not being able to hear for the next 3 weeks) but we were back in Toronto before our clothes were dry again. It certainly was an experience and I am glad we did it, but I am not sure I would rush to do it again – no matter how iconic the experience.

On the way back to Toronto ,we went to a winery – actually a wine college (4-year intensive degree course) for a tasting. There were 3 wines, but the special one was icewine – a name like Champagne that is only legally used in 3 wineries in the world – one in Germany where it was ‘invented’ (but it now not producing) and two in Canada. The grapes must be picked frozen after 3 successive days with temperatures between -8 and -15 degrees C – after 15 September each year and every part of the process must be completed within Ontario before the end of September to be called icewine. It is quite low in alcohol (hard to crush or ferment at those temperatures) and is very sweet – and consequently produced in very low quantities (in small bottles) and it is very expensive, being sold in only a few outlets. In Canada, all alcohol is sold and closely controlled by a government agency (you should see its huge HQ in Toronto) so if you want any booze at all, you have to find an store or outlet with LCBO splashed across it – we believe it stands for Liquor Control Board of Ontario.

We arrived back at our hotel after 7:30 so Heather just picked up some hot food at the supermarket and we ate in the room. The supermarkets carry quite a range of ready-to-eat meals for one, or two, or a family and although not that cheap, they are quite affordable and very good tasty meals.

On Tuesday we ventured onto the Hop-On-Hop-Off bus for a tour of the city. The first bus we got on was pretty poor. The woman giving the commentary spoke much too fast and had a heavy accent so it was very hard to make out what she was saying and this was complicated by the dreadful sound system onboard that converted everything to an unintelligible blur. We got off at the next stop and waited for another bus, one with a pre-recorded commentary that was easy to follow. I can’t say that Toronto grabbed me. It doesn’t seem to have much that attracted me. It wasn’t ugly, but just plain and with nothing that stood out to me – but maybe I wasn’t looking or listening properly. The best part of the tour was that our tickets entitled us to a boat ride around the harbour and inner islands. It was quite short (less than 30 minutes), but I enjoyed it and picked up 8 more new birds along the island shore.

One interesting note was that we saw a lot of pretty brown butterflies around the lake (and have seen more since). When we asked about them, we were told that they are Monarch Butterflies, just starting their annual migration – to MEXICO! These flimsy little bits of fluff fly well over 1000 kilometres to catch up with their boy- or girl-friends and make more new butterflies who do the same thing next year. What a phenomenal feat of nature. Must be equal to the beautiful Arctic Terns that fly close to 50,000 kilometres a year – about 3 times to the Moon and back in their lifetime.

We had a latish lunch at a lakeside restaurant before strolling along the harbour a way (more birds) and catching another HOHO back home. On the way back, we stopped off at what National Geographic claims to be the world’s best food market! Regrettably, they obviously haven’t visited many of the other ones we have because there was absolutely nothing to set it apart from many we have visited before. The appellation was certainly a mystery to us!

We had a short Happy Hour in the bar – only to be charged full prices because of their misleading information – but hopefully Tripadvisor might reflect our disappointment in due course.

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chryseis · 6 years

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the future’s in our hands (and we will never be the same again)

Fandom: Alien: Isolation, Alien Summary: Ripley and Samuels have spent months on the run after barely escaping Sevastopol alive. Just when they believe they have found a safe haven, they discover that the Company will stop at nothing to erase all evidence of what truly happened on that terrible day. AO3 Chapter 1/?

Amanda peered at the double faces of her watch and wondered how long she had until she’d be kicked out for loitering. It was late afternoon, and the establishment’s booths were beginning to fill with patrons looking for an after-work pint. Amanda gaze wandered over the other customers as they talked and laughed and drank, and she tried to ignore the little prickles of envy that crawled up her spine. She had spent many good nights in bars like this one with friends and coworkers, but those nights seemed so hazy and far away, as if they’d been nothing but dreams. At one of the booths, a group of engineers wearing Hyperion logos on their jumpsuits burst into laughter, and Amanda had to turn away.

Hyperion was a midsized station owned by Spectrum, a company so small that Amanda had never heard of it. She and Samuels had stepped off the Torrens and on to its’ docks at the beginning of April.

“What about Earth?” Samuels had first suggested while they had still drifted aimlessly in the Torrens. They had both crept around the ship hesitantly those first few days: half-fearing a reappearance of the creature— although they had expelled it— and half-hoping Verlaine and Connor would emerge from some clever hiding place. After scouring the ship, they had confirmed that there were no other unwelcome passengers, but also that the Torrens’ crew was gone.

“Earth is too obvious,” Amanda had countered. Not only the birthplace of human life, but also the planet where Samuels was built, and so close to her own home planet of Luna.

“But easy to lose ourselves in,” he had pointed out. She had had to agree and so they had spent two weeks in a motel in an Italian suburb before two Weyland-Yutani agents kicked down their door. Amanda and Samuels hadn’t dared to wait and see what the men had planned for them, and instead left them half-dead on the cheap plastic floors as Samuels shook the blood from his knuckles. They had spent the next four months on the Torrens, occasionally docking on planets and stations only long enough to refuel and restock their supplies. When they had decided that they had put enough distance between themselves and anyone who might be following them, they docked at Hyperion, a mundane station that was unlikely to attract any kind of attention.

Amanda took a tiny sip of her pint and scratched her head. She’d been sitting in the bar for nearly an hour and had only finished half her drink. The bartender, a short middle-aged woman, had repeatedly come to hover around her, no doubt annoyed by the customer who was taking up space and spending little money.

“I’m waiting for my friend,” she said awkwardly, when she felt the woman’s eyes burning into the top of her head. The bartender rolled her eyes and stepped around the bar to serve a group of men at one of the booths who were waving her over.

“Your beer is flat, anyway,” Amanda mumbled under her breath, dinging the edge of the glass with her fingernail. She looked back at her watch and sighed.

Samuels was late. This was not too unusual, for he was often kept behind at work. The first time that he hadn’t met her when he was supposed to Amanda had panicked. She had remembered the way he had looked on Sevastopol, slumped on the floor with milky liquid leaking from his nose and from between his lips, and her heart had hammered with fear. She pictured Ricardo with that terrible creature clinging to his face, Taylor with shards of glass embedded in her brain, Waits with his broken body, Axel and the mess of gore and blood he had left behind. She had pushed her way to the nearest transit car, seeing nothing but white until she had stumbled into his workplace and watched him turn around in his desk chair, his face an immediate picture of concern. His co-workers had watched awkwardly as he had put his arm around her and guided her back to their apartment. Amanda’s breathing had steadied by the time she had sat at the kitchen table with a glass of water. Samuel’s had tried to speak to her about the incident several times since, but she had refused.

Amanda reached up and scratched her scalp again, trying to make the casual gesture appear effortless. It was a difficult task, especially as the hair was as fake as the ID in the pocket of her pants. The wig was a pain in the ass, just like her false name, and her terrible job. But Weyland-Yutani would be searching the galaxy for dark-haired, bare-faced Amanda Ripley, and not for Ellen Baker, who had red hair and a fondness for pink lipstick. Amanda Ripley worked contract jobs on ships and hangers, Ellen Baker sold clothing in a store that catered mostly to middle-aged women and only rarely did she forget to smile. Amanda knew that using her mother’s first name could be a dangerous, but she had once heard that aliases were most believable when they meant something to the person using them. It might have been stupid to cling to her past, but she’d always been so very bad at letting it go.

“Ellen,” Amanda turned at the sound of her alias. Samuels smiled as he pulled out the barstool beside her. His face was a familiar comfort, even with dyed blonde hair that washed out his skin. Amanda raised her hand to the bartender who had returned from the booths. She sulkily poured Samuels the same brand of beer that Amanda had ordered without asking him what he’d like. Samuels accepted the drink with a friendly smile and slid over his payment, just the same.

“Hey, Adam. You’re late,” Amanda said lightly, addressing him by his own fake name. “Long day?”

“A wasted day,” Samuels replied with a dry smile. “I’m afraid the life of a dental receptionist isn’t as exciting as one might think.”

Amanda laughed. “There are other jobs, y’know.”

Samuels’ smile turned rueful. “Not for me.”

Amanda turned back to her drink and awkwardly fiddled with the coaster underneath it. He was probably right. Hyperion Station was a good, anonymous place for them to take shelter in, but the inhabitants saw synthetics as little more than tools. Amanda had seen Samuels’ fists clench when his coworkers spoke to him too clearly and with over enunciation, as if he were a child. Hyperion gave its’ least sought-after jobs to synthetics, and while Samuels could generally pass as human, it was pointless to pretend to people as intimate as coworkers. Synthetics owned by the station were not paid for their labour but Samuels’, as an independent, was paid in full, although his earnings were deposited directly into the bank account of Ellen Baker.

“I hope I don’t sound as if I’m complaining to much,” Samuels said after a moment.

Amanda swallowed. “You’re allowed to be angry,” she said. “You’re allowed to be hurt.”

She looked up and met his eyes. His brow was furrowed, as if he couldn’t think of how to respond, a strange delay for a synthetic. His lips parted, and Amanda found herself wondering if they were soft. After a moment Samuels blinked rapidly and turned away toward the television on the wall. Amanda let out a breath and took a deep gulp from her glass. Moments like that one had been happening between them with more frequency, but that was simply another thing that she did not want to address.

Amanda turned to the television that Samuels was watching. A news anchor sat solemnly as images of a watery, grey planet flashed beside her.

“Fiorina 161, a planet that operates entirely as a correctional facility, is facing budget cuts after the lead smelting works on the premises was declared ‘non-essential,’” the anchor’s bottle-blonde perm shook with every word she spoke. “Although the site remains open, it is unknown how long such the operation will realistically be able to run.”

“No one knows where that is, you know,” Samuels gestured to the screen with his glass.

Amanda frowned, and studied his profile. His face was neutral and his eyes were trained on the screen, as if the awkward moment between them had been in her head. “What do you mean?”

“The coordinates of the planet are unlisted. It’s somewhere in the Neroid sector, but the Company won’t release where.”

“Why not?”

Samuels quirked his lip. “Security.”

Amanda dug her fingernails into the flesh of her palm. Security? Bullshit. It seemed to her that it should be impossible for Weyland-Yutani to extend their reach to encompass every part of the galaxy, and yet it was omnipresent. “I wonder what they’ll do with it.”

They fell into a silence, but it felt more companionable than awkward. Samuels leaned forward to pick up his glass and Amanda couldn’t help but look again. His throat moved as he swallowed, allowing the drink to be dissolved in the fluids in his artificial digestive system. She picked up the drink menu, quickly looking away before he could catch her.

“Six months after the tragedy that left hundreds of people dead, authorities are still investigating what exactly caused Sevastopol Station to fall into the gas giant that it orbited.”

The menu fell from her hand and fluttered to the floor. She looked back at the television with a pounding heart. The image beside the anchor’s head had switched to Sevastopol’s exterior in its former near-glory, lit brightly by KG-348.

“Representatives of Seegson and Weyland-Yutani maintain that the tragedy was an unexpected accident that was unpreventable the moment it began.”

“Bullshit,” Amanda hissed. Samuels leaned forward and clenched his jaw.

The image beside the anchor had switched to that of a large Earthen forest fire. There was no new story on Sevastopol, and so no reason to give it more than a brief mention.

Amanda gripped the sticky wood of the bar hard enough to turn her knuckles white. There were so many people who had lost their lives because of Weyland-Yutani’s greed. So many people whose memories had been dishonoured by the very people who killed them.

“Ripley,” Samuels whispered in her ear. The sound of her real name jolted her from her reverie, and she looked at Samuels half-dazed.

“Sorry,” she said slowly. “I—,”

“No,” he interrupted, urgent but still so quiet. “We have to go.”

Amanda was instantly alert. She glanced carefully over at the end of the bar, where Samuels was staring so intently. The bartender was speaking urgently into a telephone by the cash register, shooting quick glances over to them.

“Just act like everything’s fine,” Amanda said lowly, and casually sipped her beer. “We don’t know what she’s doing, it could be nothing. We don’t want to bring any attention to ourselves.”

“Right.” Samuels copied her and sipped his drink, but his shoulders were tense.

“We’ve already paid,” she continued, “so we’re just going to get up and leave.”

Blood pounded in Amanda’s ears, but she breathed deeply and forced herself to move slowly as she slid off the stool. She was closer to the door than Samuels was, so she stepped forward, trusting that he was behind her.

“Amanda Ripley, turn around and put your hands behind your head,” a cold female voice said, followed by the unmistakable cocking of a gun. Someone screamed and Amanda could hear the sound of overturning chairs and frightened shouts.

She forced herself to continue her deep breathes and looked at the window in front of her. It faced the hall outside, and she could see the bar reflected in front of it. The cranky bartender stood a several feet behind them with a revolver pointed at the back of Amanda’s head. The counter of the bar was still between them, and Amanda’s heart pounded as she made up her mind.

“Samuels?” Amanda said softly. Her arms shook slightly as she lifted them to the back of her head.

“Yes?” his breath was hot against the back of her neck.

“Run.”

#amanda ripley #christopher samuels #ripley x samuels #alien isolation #ripuels #alien: isolation #obviously this is an au!#i used to write so much alien fic i'm excited to get back into it #do people still read a:i fics? i guess i'll find out it's been so long #i wrote an actual note about it on ao3 but tldr this is based on a one shot i wrote a couple years ago that i decided to rewrite and expand #my writing

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notsofly · 6 years

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Ties in Blood Chapter 1

Reposting of Ties in Blood I’ll be tagging people; sorry if you’ve been tagged before.

@mrswhozeewhatsis @winchestergirl-13 @impala-dreamer @idreamofplaid @squirrelnotsam @percussiongirl2017

Chapter 1

Aaliyah stood still as the young man adjusted her two layers of clothes. Behind him she watched the older man Aaliyah pegged to be the father finish the last of the traps. She hadn’t expected the elder to allow her on this part of the hunt. Yet after the werewolf caught her scent three days ago, there was little choice. Once the young man seemed satisfied with how Aaliyah’s jackets fit, he reached over to the trunk of the car, a black Impala, and brought out a knife.

“Silver blade,” he told her. “Short of lobbing off the head, best way of dealing with werewolves.” With a slight flick of the wrist, he caught the blade and handed the knife handle first to Aaliyah.

She accepted the blade, adjusting her hold, and nodded. “Any advice?”

“Yeah, don’t get killed.”

“Dean. We need to move,” his father instructed.

Aaliyah watched Dean’s father climb into the driver’s seat of the car before the engine rumbled to life. She watched the car move away as memories flashed of the past few days hearing the engine around the college campus. Turning back to Dean, Aaliyah blinked a couple times in a slight surprise to find he wasn’t there.

With a couple stabilizing breaths, she stepped out into the open. The late summer breeze tugged at the top jacket and she swore she heard cheers from the football stadium. The thought that the werewolf would be drawn there passed through her mind. Then again, even a wild animal would avoid people. A howl carried on the wind. Aaliyah spun her head and shifted her grip on the knife. Leaves on nearby trees rustled, but there was no breeze.

She turned to see just out of the corner of her eye a lumbering werewolf in md arm sweep at her. Full force sent Aaliyah into a sapling, snapping it and sending the wind from her lungs. Gasping for breath, she searched for the knife that laid a few feet away out of the creature’s path. Crawling for the weapon, Aaliyah’s neck hairs stood on end as the hot stank breath of the werewolf touched her. Her fingers just barely grabbed the knife as her back erupted in pain as if it was on fire. Screaming in pain, Aaliyah curled into a ball, her hand around the knife handle. Fighting through the pain, she rolled onto her back as the werewolf swiped at her again, cutting into her side.

The muzzle of the werewolf was inches above her face, a large glop of saliva hanging down. Biting through that pain, she thrusted the knife up into the creature’s stomach, pulling the knife up to the rib cage. She didn’t fight the shutter that worked through her body as hot blood bathed her. Pushing the dead body up and off of her, Aaliyah laid there, regaining her breath, her mind blank. She fought the urge to close her eyes as her body reverted into survival mode.

“That took guts,” she heard a voice tell her. A slow turn of her head showed Dean coming up to her. “Think you can move?”

Testing her side with a deep breath, Aaliyah nodded. Holding up a hand and worked with Dean to get to her feet. Wrapping her free arm across her stomach, she didn’t fight when Dean put the arm he held around his shoulders and wrapped his arm around her, mindful of her back. Eased over to the car, Dean helped her onto the hood before going to the trunk. She flinched when John came up to her.

“What were you thinking?” he demanded. “Letting the werewolf…”

“It’s dead,” Aaliyah cut in, eyes closed against the throbbing pain. “Bet you couldn’t do better.”

A heavy thud on the hood reverberated through her body. With an eye cracked open, Aaliyah watched Dean start fishing through a duffel bag. From it appeared make shift medical supplies plus typical first aid items. Last item was a bottle of cheap looking alcohol any of the local party stores had in stock. She reached for the bottle as Dean found a needle and dental floss.

“Think you can shed the jackets and shirt?” Dean asked.

Aaliyah freed one jacket and struggled with the second. She ignored the feeling of serious judgement from Dean’s father. Unfit to be a hunter, the older Winchester said when she wanted to help three days ago. She wanted to show him he was fit when she heard that.

Finally freeing the second jacket, Aaliyah dared to shed the shirt. A hiss from Dean was a clue on how bad it looked. A small shiver when a breeze passed by, Aaliyah hissed when a cold liquid washed over her open wounds. Adjusting herself on the hood, she folded her legs in front of her. Meeting Dean’s gaze, Aaliyah nodded. Holding herself still, she felt Dean’s hands working on stitching up her side and back. As he worked, Aaliyah started to drift off to sleep. A shake brought her back around.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to your dorm,” Dean told her.

***

Unsure of what she was conscious of first, Aaliyah laid in bed and attempted to pick each noise out. Her roommate moving around doing something. Coffee dripping into the pot. Music playing just a little too loud Aaliyah swore would have affected her if she had been drinking. Shifting under her blanket, pain snagged on her dental floss stitched wounds.

“You look like you had a rough night,” her roommate told her, passing through to the bathroom.

“Yeah, I had one.” Aaliyah eased herself into a sitting position on her bed, the covers pooled in her lap. “Where you at the game, Amanda?”

“No, had a test to study for.” Amanda came out from the bathroom and gasped. “What happened to you? Have you been to the ER?”

Aaliyah looked down to her bandages had red spots on them and shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe me.” She didn’t fight when Amanda eased her forward.

“Try me.”

Closing her eyes as Amanda started peeling off the bandages, Aaliyah watched flashes of the previous night. The fresh wounds pulled at her muscles. “You remember the reports of a large wild dog and all that howling the past few weeks?”

“What about it?” Amanda continued unwrapping the bandages.

Aaliyah heard her roommate half listening to what she was saying. “It was a full blown werewolf.”

“Werewolf, huh? Twilight or Harry Potter?”

“More like Underworld.” Aaliyah glanced to the bundled bandages speckled with red as Amanda stepped away and tossed it into the trash. “I’m … still trying to figure out how I really survived the fight.”

“You sound …”

“Insane? Like I need to be put up in a psych ward indefinitely?” Aaliyah took a deep breath and held it as she moved her body to the edge of the bed. Feet on the scrap of carpet that served as a rug and her hands white knuckled the mattress, she released the air from her lungs. The pain was still there, blood vessels, muscles, skin working still to knit themselves back together. Breathing through the pain flair until it died down to a mild throbbing. “Go ahead and say it, I won’t fight it.”

“That’s the thing, though, Lia.” Amanda sat down in the oversized chair that Aaliyah had. “I do believe you. I had gone out to the library yesterday …”

“Studying for the test,” Aaliyah remembered, gaining a nod from Amanda.

“Coming back here when the library closed, I swear I saw some sort of fight in the Diag,” Amanda told her, voice. “One of the … fighters loomed over the other, howling and grunting like those wolves we had gone to see over the winter. It clawed at the smaller fighter, who cried out. The smaller reached for something before turning around and just as the larger was just over them.” She mimed being stabbed. “The one on the ground stabbed up at her attacker. After that, two men came out from wherever they were and took care of the scene. One took care of the dead attacker while the other helped …” Amanda gestured toward Aaliyah. “You, apparently.”

Aaliyah worked what her friend told her, wondering why she so readily believed her tale of being attacked by a werewolf. “That whole time, you never thought to go get help or come help?”

“Oh, hell no. Too much trouble on my end.” Amanda pushed herself out of the chair. “Come on, I’ll help you wash up and get fresh bandages on those stitches of yours.”

Aaliyah couldn’t help smile a little as her roommate and good friend since freshmen year of college offered a hand up. In the couple years she had known Amanda, Aaliyah wondered how much remained hidden between them. Any time she brought up family or friends before college, Amanda deflected the conversation to another topic.

“Whoever did those stitches knew what they were doing,” Amanda called from the bathroom. “Major props to ‘em.”

“Yeah, he knew what he was doing,” Aaliyah replied, trying to remember how it felt having her wounds being stitched with a deft and gentle hand. She half shuffled to the bathroom, using the furniture to help, where Amanda had water running. “A shame I didn’t get his number.”

“There’s a piece of paper on your desk.”

Grateful she was holding onto it, Aaliyah reached for the paper.

“You did great, Aaliyah. Your roommate helped getting you back in. Here’s my number if anything happens while you’re still here.”

--Dean

Spotting the number under Dean’s name, Aaliyah made a mental note to call it later. Maybe after the shower and more rest.

***

Panting, Aaliyah came up to The Rock near the ZTA chapter house and braced herself against the rock. Early morning before the University of Michigan and the surrounding city buzzed with its daily workings was a good time to run. A month after killing the werewolf, Aaliyah was able to breath and not have the feeling her side and back were on fire. The talk of the day had gone from the random animal attacks to the varsity football team being able to reach the championship game.

Aaliyah had no issue with the gossip changing from the werewolf to the team. It kept the attention off of her and her wounds. Her professors and classmates had been worried when she showed to class after the fight. Her wounds bleed a little through her bandages the first day or so when she returned to class. Amanda had offered to go around and collect assignments from all her professors in that first week, but Aaliyah refused. She didn’t want to put more stress on her roommate and friend than what she already had with her load.

Once her breathing slowed, Aaliyah dared to head off toward the Quad where the fight with the werewolf had taken place. Speeding up to a light jog, she passed a few students on their way to a morning class. A few minutes and a quicken heart rate later, she came to a stop at the grass line. The late summer yellow grass still held onto the large brown spot where the werewolf had fallen a month ago. Word had spread about a large animal being killed when the landscapers showed the morning following Aaliyah’s kill. Rumors and guesses of what it was had circulated the University and surrounding parts of the city for the past month, and Aaliyah kept to herself during those conversations.

She stood there in the early morning silence as a strange sense of peace fell over her. Like something finally clicked in her mind that she, with some help, had not only learned of the supernatural but taken down one of the most popular creatures. If she could do that, what else couldn’t she do? Reaching for her phone, Aaliyah thumbed through the contacts until she reached Dean’s and paused. He never said anything about keeping in touch, but he might know a thing or two about maybe finding a missing person. Hitting the dial button, Aaliyah listened to the tone before the voicemail picked up.

“This is Dean’s other, other cell, so you must know what to do,” the greeted stated before the beep.

“Hey, um, Dean, it’s Aaliyah,” she started, her tongue tripping on her speed. “I was wondering if you knew anything about finding a missing person or two. Call me on this number.” Short and to the point. The thought of if he was going to return the call passed through her mind as she pocketed her cell and started a jog down the sidewalk back to her dorm building.

#supernatural spn fanfic werewolf dean ofc

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camteen729 · 2 years

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