#road safety accident dies | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alpydk · 2 months ago

Text

Enablers gunna enable. @lanafofana & @tellmeallaboutit

A short fic of - What if, and hear me out, Gale's necrotic energy was actually radioactive?

The first time Gale died was an accident. The transmutation spell on the orb had backfired and almost instantly, darkness had fallen upon him. It was a day later that his soul had been dragged back to his body, an annoyed Tara lecturing him on the potential outcome of such experimentation alone. The dead gull on the balcony was nothing new, merely a result of the feline’s hunts.

The second time Gale died was on purpose. How long could he sleep in blissful ignorance before the necrotic energy that seeped from his corpse became a problem for the outside world? One day, two days? The third was where Tara placed the limit, too anxious at the spreading decay, the orb glowing angrier with each passing moment. They dared not test further.

The third time Gale died was a mistake. Tav had misjudged the sunbeam’s path, leading it through the enemies, but also through the weakened wizard. He’d hoped that the difficulty of getting the true resurrection spell from his pouch would have meant Tav was a little more careful with his life, but as always, he’d been expendable. They’d brought him back, for which he was thankful, and all had continued on their way.

It started as a cough, harmless and insignificant. Tav explained it was probably from too many nights in a cold tent and not to worry. The one chilly night turned into a grey clouded day at camp, Tav secluded to the safety of their bedroll. Something they’d eaten was the overall consensus. Gale observed at a distance, Tav’s pallor reminding him of the grey feathers of the fallen gull.

Shadowheart’s spells broke through the worst of the sickness, allowing Tav to continue travelling with them, but Gale was still weary. As Tav spat blood on to the road, it was justified as a recent bout of combat and a mistimed blow to the face. As Tav bruised like an aged piece of fruit, it was down to the battles and not the underlying sickness. As Tav stopped eating, it was blamed on the stress of their current situation, not the burning sores in their mouth and throat.

They went from strong and confident to a languishing shadow, a ghost of the hero he’d fallen in love with. Sunlit hair became as grey as the rain touched stones they trod upon and conversations of which healing spells to use soon became whispers of which rites would be the most appropriate.

Gale’s mind drifted like that of the Chionthar as the gulls flew overhead, their feathers light on the breeze carrying them to new heights. He wondered if they would reach Waterdeep, would fly over the head of his mother as she crocheted in her small garden. He wondered if Tav would visit with him when they were well enough. He knew this thought was an impossible dream, as Shadowheart called out to him.

Tav lay in his arms in the confines of their room at the Elfsong, the drapes over the bed blocking out the intrusive light. Fever had descended over their body, beads of sweat the only moisture they could tolerate. Once pink flushed lips were now cracked and bloodied, the colour that of the red roses he had longed to give them once they were back home. Vibrant skin now wept as he did, salted tears hidden behind a mask of tenderness, wounds hidden behind the mask of treatment. He told them he loved them.

….

…

The first time Tav died was an accident.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #bg3 fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale bg3 #galemance #dead dove or should it be dead gull?

62 notes · View notes

calangolengo · 29 days ago

Note

I haven't been able to stop thinking about your mute Stan headcanons and I started thinking about what would've happened if Stan lost his voice sooner, like in childhood instead of out on the road. Maybe he was in an accident or nearly died drowning or something and the incident made him stop talking around the age of 12. Just thinking about how upset Ford would be that his brother doesn't talk anymore but being determined to help him, and the two of them learning different ways to communicate, with ASL and Morse code, and Ford basically having to become Stan's translator when they're at school. I also think it would make Filbrick a little softer on Stan, if the accident was horrific enough.

Wow, this is great I love it!! At first I was thinking Stan was nonverbal most of his life since birth, but this is gold! A rare opportunity for Filbrick, personally I have a hard time writing him as anything other than the big bad lurking in the minds of his children, I think the fandom in general internalizes his actions too much by placing the weight of their own experiences on this figure, which makes it very difficult to see him beyond what they already decided he would be, but I think your vision is very interesting to be explored.

______________________________________________________________

Maybe Filbrick was taking a moment during the summer, the store closed for reasons beyond his control that forced him to not work that day. He ends up going for a quick walk on the beach and the twins follow him like a family outing eager to show their father their boat. Stan would obviously be the most excited and vocal one running back and forth while Ford would be walking in front of his father facing him talking non-stop but in a more normal tone.

Filbrick would be distracted looking at the sea while Stan would be imitating a plane circling around him and then, for a moment, a sharp turn of the child going off the sidewalk and a motorcycle would collide with him not too sharply but enough to throw his small body further forward and twist one of his arms at a completely unnatural angle.

From Stan's perspective he would be scared as hell, any child would be, screaming and crying and trying to get up and seek safety by his father's side, but Filbrick would be busy arguing with the owner of the motorcycle, the two of them yelling at each other almost becoming physical, the whole situation scaring the boy more, Ford coming to his side also in tears trying to help Stan in some way but being mostly useless and not able to calm him down.

At some point Stan could see his father approaching, his eyes hidden behind his glasses holding him by the shoulders and saying something, but with the crying and the screams and the pain he wasn't really listening until his father started yelling at him to shut up and be quiet and stop crying, his father's screams getting louder over his own, the whole situation escalating to the point where a small crowd was gathering. Then he becomes unable to make a sound when Filbrick puts his hand over his mouth, permanently shutting him up and carrying his body back home to get the car and take him to the doctor, his mother driving while his brother is left at home and Filbrick's hand still covering his mouth the whole way.

By the time they get to the hospital, when the doctor puts him on a stretcher and he is finally released from his father's hands, he is not making any sound, just the softest whimpers as the doctor gives him anesthesia and he is intubated.

After he wakes up, a cast on his arm and his mother and brother by his bedside smiling at him, his father in the store that is already open, all Stan can remember of the whole event is the screams and the hand preventing him from speaking. Going home with some painkillers, he stays quiet in bed for the first few days, barely making a sound. Ford with all his little heart tries to start any conversation, about monsters, comics, the boat, but nothing seems to cheer up his little brother.

The weeks pass and Stan stays at home because despite being physically recovering well he seems unable to whisper more than a few words, the doctor attributes this to the trauma of the situation and suggests that the family encourage him to talk more.

His mother keeps him at home for the rest of the summer, calling him to help her with her work on the phone, but this doesn't seem to have any effect, Ford tries to persuade him to talk about boats, about their life when they travel the world, about the new comics they could read and although Stan seems very interested he can't get more than a few sounds out of him. Filbrick calls him to work at the store one day, letting him stay in his usual position at first in front of the main display window where Stan used to make up silly stories to convince some customer, but the moment the third person leaves the store without buying anything and without getting any useful information about prices or discounts from the boy he is permanently moved to the cashier, Ford goes along trying to help his brother by supporting him where he can't act, but after he gives the wrong change once he is transferred to a stool in the corner of the cashier just watching his father work.

At one point Filbrick throws the question at Stan, wanting to know why he wasn't talking, why he was acting so strange, why he couldn't be normal. It's not meant to be a mean question, he just doesn't know how to connect with his son, understand his reasons, he was so desperate when the accident happened, the mere thought of one of his children getting hurt when he was around was incapable of protecting someone who should always be protected when he was around, he just wanted the boy to calm down, to go back to the way he was before the accident, for all that pressure to go away. Stan was always such a hard child to read, while he was open to any kind of conversation he didn't really say anything of importance, always running around and screaming and being so hard to control, Filbrick just wanted to understand what was going on, he wanted to fix what was wrong, but how could he reach out to someone so different from himself, he loved his children, he would even die for them, but it was so hard to enjoy being around them, it was hard to feel like being with them. He wanted them safe, but he also wanted them out of his mind, out of his home, taking his childhood problems with them. The guilt that gnawed at the edges of his mind was chased away only by the voice of his innermost desire: he could not be blamed for not loving his children; he had given them his food, his home, and his time. What more would it take for him to give?

Stan eventually had to go back to school, while his quietness was appreciated by his teachers the lack of answers to questions in class was not. Ford was frustrated but he was adapting, the Bros' codes and Morse code being used more than ever both in class and on the street, he became Stan's voice to the world. Stan was still the muscle of the team, fending off any idiot who came at them, at some point Ford found a book on ASL in the school library and took it home, by the arrival of adolescence and its end Ford and Stan had become fluent in sign language and had even created their own signs.

Then the science fair happened and it was pretty much the same thing, except Stan didn't have any words to really defend himself, signing didn't doing any good if the person his were talking to wasn't really paying attention to them.

Filbrick was so pissed, Stan could be silent now but it was still a problem with low grades and a ridiculous attitude of going out and fighting with other kids, when he threw Stan out the door he grabbed the first kid's bag that was lying nearby, the one he used to box.

It should just be a few days of sleeping in the car, he told his wife, it would teach him, it would give him a greater sense of gratitude for his father's efforts and to think of the excuses he would give to his brother, he would look for the boy by the end of the week.

But life is funny in the cruelest ways sometimes, like when you go to the police station to explain that your son is missing and have to explain to the chief that you kicked him out of the house just to teach him a lesson but the local authority figure doesn't seem to agree with the effectiveness of your methods, nor does seem particularly interested in solving any of your problems.

By the end of the month Filbrick had spent more on gas than on his own cigars, visited more tourist spots in the city than any tourist and seen more tears fall from his wife's eyes than any husband has seen in the history of mankind, he thinks, but the boy seemed to have disappeared from the world, swallowed up by the road fulfilling an old dream of his father, disappearing and taking with him his childhood problems for better or worse.

______________________________________________________________

Filbrick is weiFilbrick is weird to write, yikes. I wrote this here that was supposed to be one of the first versions of the story, I really liked your idea, I hope you write it too, it will be cool to see this AU growing.

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #filbrick pines #mute stan au #selective mutism #Filbrick is a father but should he be?#It's questionable

30 notes · View notes

wheelsgoroundincircles · 3 months ago

Text

KEN’S FATAL CRASH - 17th AUGUST 1966

After a fantastic year of racing for Ken and his team including wins at Sebring and Daytona plus the race he could have won at Le Mans.

It was August 17th 1966 at the Riverside International Raceway in California. The Shelby American Crew were testing a Ford known as the J-Car. Ken was in the car and all was going well until the final lap on the final day of testing.

As he approached turn 9 which was also at the end of the lap, the car left the road and broke into two, bursting into flames in which Ken died instantly.

Ken son Peter was at the test. He got to the scene as fast as he could. Peter wanted to get him out of the car, but was informed by a member of the crew that he wasn’t in the car. He had been flung out and was lying in the dirt with his helmet next to him.

It has never been proven what happened with the accident. It seems the car had either break failure or the driveline had locked up.

Due to Ken’s death, Ford updated its safety program with a stronger roll cage and changes to prevent fire.

RIP KEN

#car #cars #ken miles #Sebring #daytona #le mans #racing #motorsports #race car #ford #ford racing

37 notes · View notes

ficdraftstic · 29 days ago

Text

Title: An Ironborn's Guide to Graverobbing

He looked so young. Skin pale and hair soft. Theon couldn't believe he was staring at the corpse of Robb Stark. He laid on a bed of winter roses and wore a clean grey suit with a black tie. The collar of his shirt making sure to hide the wiring that lined his neck. From the way he looked you'd have never guessed the boy died in a drunken car accident that separated his head from his body a week after their spat. He couldn't think of a more gruesome death for someone who deserved it the least.

Contrary to what you'd expect of a Northerner, Robb rarely drank. He drove safely, never went above the speed limit and always wore his seatbelt. Every time they'd go on a trip he would always nag Theon about the laws and hazards they should follow for simply being in a car. Small good that did him.

"Who would have thought that you'd get here before me," he whispered, barely audible. As if it was just another one of their sleepovers and Mrs. Stark had just told them to go to sleep. "The gods tell the cruelest jokes, don't they?"

There were so many things he wanted to say. His guilt, gratitude, anger, sorrow and regrets. How much he wanted to see his eyes, feel his skin, and hear his laugh. Theon wanted him to nag him about road safety again. He wanted tell Robb the secrets he kept from him and take back all the horrible things he said. I love you, he kept himself from saying out loud.

And if he stayed he probably would have. But he knew he was not welcome. Hell he wouldn't want him here either. Not after what happened during the incident that might have played a part in Robb's death. Even now, every so often Catelyn Stark took a moment from her grief to stare daggers at him when she didn't think he'd notice. The fact that she kept Bran close to her ever since he arrived was telling enough.

Though he supposed he should be grateful that he could at least see Robb one last time before he was gone forever, buried amongst his ancestors in the Starks' private cemetery. Not even Jon Snow, who was still in custody, was allowed that. His lawyers, the police and Catelyn all thought it best Robb's potential murderer didn't attend his half-brother's funeral.

Sansa, now the heir to the Stark wealth and the one who had invited him for no other reason than courtesy, was busy talking to reporters and wanted guests. Her perfect as usual makeup barely concealing the stress she was under. Rickon was inconsolable and Bran was too though he was better at hiding it. Arya had not even attended the wake out of anger for both her older brothers, believing that Jon was framed and that Robb's death was no incident. She left their house that morning with no more than a note saying she was staying at a friend's, Sansa told him.

Catelyn Stark was just painful to watch. She reminded Theon of his mother when she lost his brothers at sea. She cried far more than when her husband, Ned Stark died a few years back. If tears could bring a person back to life, Robb would be sitting next to her right now wiping it from her aged face.

Unlike Theon she did not hide her pain. She mourned like she and her son were the only two people in the world, and now she was alone. Mrs. Stark and him never got along and they really only tolerated each other for the sake of Robb. So he thought it funny that he found himself relating to her now when her son and his best friend was out of the equation.

Theon Greyjoy left shortly after the ceremony started. He saw Patrek Mallister give him a sympathetic look on the way out. "Hang in there." The Riverlander patted him on the back before going back to where his father was talking to Edmure Tully.

Outside the Starks' sept he hardly found any people in Winterfell. Robb was well loved and respected so even the servants came to pay their respects for Catelyn and her children. It made Theon feel even emptier.

Winterfell could be the warmest haven or the coldest place sometimes. He stared at the window that led to his best friend's bedroom. It still had the cracks from where Theon would throw rocks to get Robb's attention. He must have thrown a hundred stones yet the windows never shattered completely.

Staring at it he could almost imagine his dead friend watching him from the other side of the glass, cold and grim. Like a statue. Theon rubbed his eyes. Though their friendship ended on bad terms, he preferred to remember Robb Stark as he usually was. Kind, stubborn, passionate, loyal. Extremely easy to anger just as he was to smile and laugh.

Only when he was inside his car did he start crying. He turned on the engine and started driving, to where he didn't know. Maybe somewhere with a lot of alcohol and people that could distract him from the cruel reality for a while. Or far where nobody would see him or ever find him. Mostly he just wanted to go where Robb was. To a place where he was safe and waiting for him. And it'd be so easy too. Theon's hands felt light on the steering wheel. All he needed was to close his eyes and let go. It will all be over soon.

"Oh Theon."

He could hear Robb call to him. Did he die already? Strange how painless it felt. "Yes, Robb?" Theon asked.

"Theon!?"

His voice was louder, more panicked. He wondered why. Theon could hear him but he could not sense him. A bump on the road startled Theon into opening his eyes. He found himself back in the car again, with the steering wheel moving on it's own and Robb sitting next to him in the– wait.

"ROBB?"

"THEON THE ROAD!"

Sense finally took hold of him. He grabbed the steering wheel just as the car was about to stir towards the woods. What was he doing? Was he seriously about to kill himself? Theon breathed; inhaling and exhaling quickly to get as much air in his lungs simply to feel his organs functioning. Then he breathed slowly and deeply, savoring the fact he was still alive. Unlike a certain someone.

"Are you fucking crazy!?" Robb screamed. His friend, his dead friend who he was secretly in love with screamed at him. Maybe I am, he wanted to answer.

Theon tried to ignore him by gluing his eyes on the road. "What the fuck..." He whispered.

"Believe me I'm as shocked as you are. Can you really see me?"

The ironborn held his tounge. He really needed to see a therapist. Robb always encouraged him but he was too afraid of what his family might think.

When silence filled the car and it seemed that he really must have just imagined the ghost of his best friend, Theon sighed in relief.

"BOO!" Robb's head suddenly popped out of the glove compartment which caused Theon to scream and almost crash into a tree. Now angry, scared, depressed and just overall extremely confused he parked the car on the side of the road next to the tree that nearly killed him.

"Drowned God– Are you TRYING to kill me!?"

"Well you weren't answering my question."

"That's cause I'm trying to grapple the fact I almost killed myself and I'm seeing the ghost of my deceased best friend dipshit!"

Touched, Robb placed his hand on his chest. "You still see me as your best friend?"

"That should not be your sole take away from this Robb!" Theon screamed, briefly forgetting he was talking to a dead man.

"Heh. 'Soul' take away." Robb snorted and Theon tried very hard not to do the same.

"Oh my fucking..." He rubbed his eyelids. "I should've listened when you told me to see that shrink."

"Not that that's gonna help you in this particular situation, but yeah. I did tell you."

Theon refused to acknowledge his hallucination any further.

"This is not real. I am in extreme grief. This is just my body's way of coping..." He reassured himself.

"Hey. Hey. Theon." Robb snapped his fingers to get his attention. Theon covered his ears to block out the sound.

"Fine then! Don't listen to me. See how bloody well that worked out the first time." Robb crossed his arms. "Not like I just saved your life or anything..."

Theon sighed. He supposed the figment of his imagination had a point. If nothing else it was nice hearing the sound of Robb's voice again.

"Fine. You're here. I can see you. And to answer your question from earlier, yes I am crazy. Else wise I wouldn't be seeing you."

"Oh Theon. That is like the least craziest thing you have going for you right now."

"Obviously my own hallucination wouldn't tell me I'm crazy."

"I'm not a hallucination. I'm the real Robb."

Theon squinted at him for a few seconds then snorted. "Yeah. Right."

"What? I am!"

"Ghosts aren't real."

He scoffed. "Well apparently they are. Don't believe me? Ask me something only I would know."

"Then how would I know you're lying?"

"By the gods do I have to tell you how to do everything? Look, there's a bird behind you and I'm going to say– don't look at it idiot!"

"You just said to look!"

"Not until I told you the name of it!"

"Should've been more clear then huh."

Robb sighed. Theon did not question how he was still able to do that. "Why couldn't it have been Jon or mother that could see me? Why did it have to be the prick that left my brother stranded in the woods."

Ouch. Even fake Robb hated him.

"Let's say you are a ghost, I'm... really sorry about Bran. I– I don't really have much of an excuse. You were right I am stupid. And a coward. I shouldn't have left."

"You want to apologize? Then do so by listening to me! My death was not an accident. Jon did not kill me, Tywin Lannister had him framed to get rid of us both. We weren't even driving home! We were going to take the bus until someone kidnapped us."

"What? Why would he do that?"

"Because he's a cunt Theon! Tywin Lannister is a soggy cunt that's going to get my brother imprisoned for life and I need you to help me stop it."

"I am... so confused."

#theon greyjoy #robb stark #fanfic #asoiaf #throbb #ghost au #idk how to tag fanfics #wip #modern au #an ironborn's guide to graverobbing #mostly just wrote this fic cause i wanted to use robb's name as a pun

18 notes · View notes

number1jaymerrickhater · 11 months ago

Text

Marble hornets driving headcannons

Jay

Can not drive for shit

There are not enough words in the english language to describe what an awful driver he is

He’s the type of guy to put on his turn signal 2 seconds before trying to cut across 6 lanes of traffic

One time he gave Alex a ride to set and Alex vowed to never get in a car with him again

“Shit this is where we’re supposed to turn, hold on.”

Proceeds to slam on his breaks, jerks the wheel so hard he almost flips the car and nearly causes a 12 car pile up

It is a miracle he hasn’t died in a car crash.

He is banned from borrowing anyones car ever

Despite all this he still says he’s not that bad of a driver.

“See guys! We made it here in one piece. I told you I’m not a shitty driver” meanwhile Alex is riding shotgun with his life flashing before his eyes, Tim is in the backseat trying to make peace with god, and Brian is squeezing the door handle so hard it looks like he’s trying to break it.

They all unanimously agree to take Jay off the carpooling rotation.

Surprisingly his car would be relatively clean. Other than some crumbs and a few half empty water bottles I don’t think his car would be that messy.

Alex

Two words. Road rage.

I hc that before Marble Hornets Alex wasn’t an angry dude 99% of the time

Yeah that 1% of the time is when he’s behind the wheel

Scares the shit out of everyone in the car when he’s driving

He just gets so mad that someone’s putting him and his friends in danger because they can’t follow the rules of the road

Has a lot of anxiety about driving which manifests in him yelling for 20 minutes when some asshole cuts him off in traffic

His car is super clean, he absolutely hates it messy

He isn’t just a backseat driver he is the backseat driver

The only thing worse than letting him drive is having him sit next to you while you drive

He gets possessed by the spirit of a middle aged dad teaching his teenage kid how to drive every time he gets in the car with anyone

“Hey don’t you think you’re going a little fast? Maybe you should slow down a little?” While aggressively holding onto the ceiling handle thing by the door type deal

Idk he just seems like the type to be very passionate about road safety

His car has a “back off grumpy driver on board” sticker bc Brian put it there as a joke and Alex just never took it off

He says he hates it but secretly he does think its a little funny

Tim

He just does not give a fuck

Like he’s not going out of his way to be super reckless but he’s also not giving himself a panic attack over road saftey

He just accepted it is what it is, if he gets into an accident then it be like that sometimes

“Buckle your seatbelts everyone, or don’t its your funeral I guess. Just be on the lookout for cops I don’t want a ticket.”

His car reeks of cigarette smoke

He’s not a heathen, he won’t smoke when other people are in his car, but he smokes so much it hardly makes a difference

His car is also an absolute mess

Empty soda bottles, food wrappers, random papers, flannels, his car is so messy he could have anything in there

He’ll make an effort to clean it if he knows he’s gonna have people in his car, but his definition of clean is “everyone has a space to sit and a relatively clean section of floor to put their feet”

Does not put up with Alex’s backseat driving, if he tries it he’ll just turn the radio louder to drown him out.

Brian

Brian is also a bad driver, but unlike Jay it’s intentional

I mean what’s the point in driving if you’re not going 20 miles over the speed limit at all times?

The first time he carpooled everyone to set, he scared the shit out of them because (besides Tim) no one had ever been in a car with him

Like you look at Brian with his dorky smile, get in his car that has a million stupid bumper stickers on the back, and you expect a normal drive

Then Brian starts blasting the worst music you can think of and tearing down the street like he’s the main character in a fast and furious movie

He was also voted off the carpool rotation

Has a playlist specifically for when he’s in the car with other people and its just the worst music you can think of

Think like the gummy bear song and crazy frog (did those exist in 2006??? Well now they do)

He has actually good taste in music, he’s just a massive troll and thinks its funny

Same with the bumper stickers, bro has a million “honk if you’re homo” and “my other ride is your mom” type bumper stickers all over the back of his car

Still he’s a bad driver in a fully intentional good driver kinda way? Idk how to describe it but unlike Jay he actually knows what the fuck he’s doing

The only time he’s been pulled over was when he was with Alex. He managed to convince the officer that he was only driving so crazy because he was trying to get his friend to the hospital because he was having an asthma attack.

The cop bought it both because I mean look at Brian he looks like an honest stand up dude, and because Alex was actually having a panic attack at being pulled over so he sold it pretty well

#I’m probably wrong about most of these but idk #this is based on nothing but vibes and random thoughts I had at 3 am #marble hornets #marble hornets headcanons #alex kralie #mh jay merrick #mh tim wright #mh brian

89 notes · View notes

mint-icecreamie · 3 months ago

Text

mitsuba + kou stuff

a bit of spoilers!

so when mitsuba was alive, he was kinda friends with kou, right?

and then mitsuba died in a road accident

what does kou's earring thing say?

traffic safety

what is traffic safety related to?

road safety

when i checked that one page with 1st year mitsuba and kou, kou didn't have the earring

did he get it cuz mitsuba died?

or maybe it's a coincidence idk

#mitsuba sousuke #kou minamoto #jibaku shounen hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun

17 notes · View notes

deviant-doughnut · 3 months ago

Text

Augusnippets: Day Twenty-Four

Chosen Prompt: Relapse

CW: drugs, mention of car accident, grief, death of Caretaker.

Whumpee knows where the pills are. He’s known for all eight months of his sobriety, since long before Caretaker was gone. They found the pair of them in the wreckage together, four car pile up in the rain, five other people in the fray of it. They were making the return journey from a meeting, one Whumpee only went to because Caretaker escorted him, the offer both a threat and a kindness. They’d argued in the car, though, the urges turning his temper to molten ashes that day, itching under his skin, pounding in his head. He doesn’t remember what they fought over but he remembers wanting to use. He rips the bathroom cabinet from the wall and thinks maybe the amnesia was a blessing. He doesn’t want to remember it like that; Caretaker’s exhausted pleas, his own voice strained with impatience.

They’d found them both bloody and barely alive, shot through with glass and pieces of metal. They’d rushed them to the same hospital wing.

Whumpee woke to find Caretaker hadn’t. Sweet brown eyes — as light as Demerara sugar — that would simply never open again. They’d never squint into wakefulness beside him in bed, and reflect the soft sunlight of his heart.

There was a specific kind of cruelty to that, that Whumpee hit his head and woke up to find that the world had gone lightless and miserable. The sun has become a mockery now, the daylight grey and stale. The ink black nights promise to swallow him whole, but always spit him back out in the morning.

The funeral only worsened the sickness of grief. Suits and ties and crisp black dresses. Eyes darting to him in sympathy where he sat in the very back booth. Caretaker wasn’t even religious, just hadn’t given enough thought to himself to have planned his own damn funeral. His mind was always on other people; their comfort, their safety, their needs. His conservative parents had done it instead, Caretaker’s body buried in a place he’d have hated, in the consecrated grounds of an organisation that once would have hated him too — hated them both.

And how is Whumpee supposed to accept that? How exactly is he meant to go on? He’s not digging up bodies or petitioning courts. He’s not threatening to sue Caretaker’s parents. He’d caught one glimpse of his mother and found that same soft gaze glancing back at him. Brown sugar, there and then gone. He’d slipped out after that, spent the majority of the funeral sobbing into his jacket in the bathroom, the collar pulled up over his nose.

He throws the cabinet into the hull of the bathtub, flimsy wood smashing easily against granite. He doesn’t care about it now, just a stupid decoration, and not something that Caretaker had installed.

And there, in the carved out hollow in the wall behind the cabinet, sits an orange bottle with someone else’s name on it — a prescription used for money rather than health. Whumpee’s hand shakes. Caretaker used to hold it to steady him. He reaches out for the bottle, pops the cap and ignores how his heart aches. Caretaker would be frowning at him for this, would be urging him back to a meeting or chastising him for keeping a stash. Caretaker would tell him he was better than this, that this monster wouldn’t get him again.

That’s where Caretaker was wrong, thinks Whumpee, tipping four familiar pills into his palm. Maybe these urges were never a monster, not a thing with ugly mouths in the shadows. Maybe they were simply a curse in his bloodstream, always hungry for his marrow and heart. And now his heart has turned to stone, and they might as well cut their teeth on it.

Six miles away, past the road where both of them actually died that day, there lies a stifling cathedral. Caretaker’s body lies prone in the grounds there, in a box they will never reopen.

Whumpee chokes back a sickening sob. He swallows the pills without water.

Thanks to @augusnippets for this event!

#whump #whump writing #augusnippets #Caretaker death

10 notes · View notes

shallyne · 6 months ago

Text

The Diary of Feyre Archeron Ch 5

This is just a tiny little chapter to wrap some questions up I had for myself because I am planning somewhat of a timejump next. Hope you enjoy! The whole fic is on AO3

Words: 603

TW: mentions of death and house fire

Newspaper article, August 1st

House fire in Dunmere kills three sisters

On the night of the first of August emergency services were alerted about a fire at the Archeron estate, Dove Lane 301. Three sisters died in the fire. Nesta Archeron (18), Elain Archeron (17) and Feyre Archeron (15). Experts say that the sisters must have already been dead at the time help arrived as only remains were found to identify the three young women.

The source of the fire is still being investigated but the police already released a statement that the fire estimatedly is not suspicious.

A tragedy hits the Archeron’s again as first the father of the three sisters, Conrad Archeron (45) has been arrested for various financial crime in May and the mother, Mary Archeron (41) has died of a stroke only three days prior to this accident.

Excerpt from a chat between Nesta and Elain Archeron on October 30th

2:16pm Elain: She's listening to the new Taylor Swift album. That's good, right?

2:17pm Nesta: 1989?

2:17pm Elain: yes

2:19pm Nesta: it's better than her listening to all too well again

Excerpt from Nesta Archerons diary

December 21st

I'm worried about Feyre Clare. We thought we just had to give her time to adjust but she has lost a lot of weight in the past three months because she barely eats and the dark circles under her eyes tell me she barely sleeps, too. She goes to work, at the restaurant down the road, comes home and locks herself in her room. Elain Daisy told me she heard Clare crying a few days ago while I was away tutoring.

Daisy even made Clare her favorite cake for her birthday today but she only picked at it before locking herself in her room again.

I am thankful for Rhy Clare’s friend, that he helped us to safety but I could throttle that man for breaking my sister's heart.

Excerpt from Elain Archerons diary

January 18th

I've been working today, helping a lovely, elderly woman with her garden and when I walked home I saw Clare through a window sitting in a Café. She didn't look happy but for once she didn't look devastated, either and she was eating something. I couldn't get a good look at what she was eating, it looked like a crossaint, but at least she was eating something.

I really hope she's recovering from the heartbreak she went through. I know first hand how badly heartbreak hurts after Grayson, I'll be there if Clare wants to talk.

Maybe she'll even eat dinner with us tonight!

Nesta Mara never was the best at expressing feelings or affection, thanks to our mother, but the past months she really tried with Clare. Getting her favorite meal when we could afford it, watching her favorite movie or even putting on her favorite artist while eating.

Clare has shown very little reaction, I'm not even sure she recognized all these little acts of kindness.

First we thought Clare was in shock but since we stepped into the train, she's been nothing but a shell of her old self.

Neither Mara nor me have realized how much we missed Clare’s antics until they were gone.

Excerpt from a chat between Feyre Archeron and Nesta Archeron on March 13th

1:56am Feyre: are you awake?

1:56am Nesta: yes, why?

1:58am Feyre: I'm hungry. Do you want to get a snack with me?

1:59am Nesta: sure, we still have leftover lasagna

2:00am Feyre: cupcakes, too?

2:00am Nesta: of course, Daisy left some for you edited

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @dreamlandreader

9 notes · View notes

deusvervewrites · 2 years ago

Note

Given that there are legalized versions of trigger under prescription, i.e. preparing for surgery and no Quirk usage might help with that, it's a lot more telling that there is no equivalent for Quirk Suppression. The closest analogy IRL would be hormone therapy, specifically testosterone therapy, where the increase in T would help the health of man as their bodies reduce the amount of T overtime or help boys in puberty produce more T if they're not reaching milestones. It's a lot easier to use a chemical to induce more activity, but it's a lot harder to make a blocker to reduce or remove activity without risking the life of the person.

Given what we know about the MHA backstory, the fear of Quirk and societal collapse causing years of technological stagnation, there probably is an entity developing Quirk Suppression technology or medicine but it isn't deemed necessary given that many people think that Quirk Singularity is Quack Science. Overhaul just happens to be the first person who made it possible. The only reason why they may consider developing Quirk Suppression in the first place outside the containment of villains is to prevent children from causing too much harm, and by the time they need such suppression, it would've been already too late.

If cases like Touya and Eri already exist right now, who is to say that more cases will occur. The kids in the retake exam already have full control of their Quirks but what about those who don't or how their output is either 0 or 100? Children are dumb when they're young, they know how to control their own Quirk but don't know the output and how it's stronger than their own parents, especially when they copy the moves from the heroes they see on TV or live. The next generation of children will cause more deaths as they will accidentally kill themselves or kill others as they show off their Quirks without understanding the meaning of safety, restrain and death.

So we know there are no Quirk Suppressants and that's a complete fanon invention. I've discussed this particular point at length before. If it existed, they'd have it at Tartarus, and they don't. Overhaul and Humarise would've been working off of that instead of using Eri and Trigger, respectively.

The point about kids is interesting though. Eri has no control because she was never taught. Her Quirk killing her father is notable though.

Touya though... Touya 'died' because Endeavor fucked up teaching him. Every single step on his road to Dabi was preventable, including hurting himself.

The thing you highlight here is kids causing dangerous Quirk accidents from generation to generation, and that is more supported by the text, considering the Provisional License Makeup Exam

#asks #meta

79 notes · View notes

amatchinwater · 8 months ago

Text

Pairing: Steo

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Theo Raeken

Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, Stiles gets sick from the loss of his Alpha, Theo got sent to hell before Stiles could confess his feelings, lots of talk about Stiles crying and trying to hide it

Words: 2753

Prompt: BTHB Don't Let them See You Cry AND IT'S A BINGO!!

Ao3 link Masterlist

---

It’s no big secret that Stiles isn’t the best at processing his emotions. Ever since his mom died right in front of him at a young age, it’s safe to say it never worked well for him. Stiles either- in his mind- overreacts or bottles everything up until he explodes later on. But for the most part, he walks through life with a mask of numbness, cloaking his feelings so the world can’t see.

You’d think ten years later, he'd have at least gotten a little bit better about it. If anything, he doesn’t blow up as much anymore. Stiles waits until he’s in the safety of his own room to let it out. Crying in peace without the probing questions of what’s wrong and how they can help. Not that that’s the greatest coping method, Stiles can admit that. But the control of it makes Stiles feel better about it.

He has less panic attacks because of it.

Or at least, he used to.

Until his heart did something rather shocking and quite stupid; attach itself to the least expected person: Theo Raeken. The chimera wasn’t shy about flirting with him. Before or after becoming an Alpha. Stubborn as ever, Stiles mostly ignored Theo’s advances in the beginning, much to his heart’s annoyance. Be it for what the chimera did to Scott or what he did to Lydia. Though the banshee assures it seemed like an accident and she’s forgiven Theo. Scott on the other hand…

Then irony decided to make Stiles her bitch.

Just when he was ready to give into what his stupid emotions wanted, Theo got sent to hell. Stiles never got the chance to tell the chimera that his feelings were reciprocated. Instead, he had to watch the one person he’s wanted more than Lydia get torn away from him.

Yeah, Stiles was there that night.

He lied to Scott about his jeep breaking down. When in fact, that’s probably the one time Roscoe ran perfectly. She just didn’t get him to the tunnels fast enough. Stiles got there in enough time to lock eyes with Theo, hear his name muttered from those perfect lips one last time before he fell– was dragged into the hole. But when it came to a means of escape, Stiles’ jeep got him home safely in record time. Which is a novelty in and of itself considering his eyes were so blurred with tears he could barely see the road.

There was no way in hell he was going to let his friends see him cry over Theo. Stiles is smarter than that.

When he got in his driveway, Stiles noticed a mild saving grace. Theo’s hoodie he was wearing the night they were watching Josh’s body was on the floor by the passenger seat. Even after nearly burning from a Hellhound, the jacket was not only intact, but still held the smell of the chimera’s cologne.

Stiles cried himself to sleep while wearing it.

Six months later and not much has changed other than Stiles not really interacting with his pack anymore. Scott allowed him back in only after realizing Theo had been pulling the strings. He ignores nearly every phone call and text. Barely acknowledges them outside of the parameters of general politeness.

Stiles doesn’t mean to be rude, but outside of Lydia, he can’t look at his pack without seeing Theo screaming for help. Without thinking about all of the what ifs that could’ve made that night turn out differently. Can’t look at Scott, the guy who was supposed to be his best friend, and see anything other than Theo’s blue eyes full of tears and terror.

It’s the last thing he sees every night when he closes his eyes.

Last night wasn’t any different and Stiles doubts tonight- the actual six month anniversary of Theo being gone- will be any better. In all honesty, he’s probably not going to sleep at all tonight. It wouldn’t really surprise him at this point. Not when he still can’t properly deal when his mother’s date passes each year.

He just wishes he knew how to make things easier.

There’s a knock on his door, making him groan.

“Stiles?”

Lydia.

Stiles sighs to himself. There’s a reason he didn’t go to school today. He wanted to miss Theo in peace. To feel his feelings without having to deal with human interaction. It hasn’t been easing seeing the other chimeras walking through the halls at school. Today would’ve only made that worse.

“Stiles, come on, I know you’re in there,” Lydia knocks again. More persistently while her tone remains gentle. Soft and kind like when she knows something’s wrong. “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I just- I just want to see that you’re okay.”

Stiles is far from okay, Lydia. But he sighs to himself and sits up a little in bed. He was never angry with Lydia. She wouldn’t have made that choice. The banshee even ripped into Scott for what he did. That it wasn’t very ‘we don’t kill people’ of him and there was probably a chance that Theo could’ve been saved.

“Come in,” Stiles sighs again. As much as he didn’t want to do this, the moment the banshee walks into his room, Stiles is almost grateful to see her.

“How are you feeling?” She asks, sitting on the edge of his bed. Lydia’s brows pinch with concern as she brings a hand to his forehead. Concern twists into worry, “you’re warm. Are you sick too?”

“Too?”

“Hayden and Corey,” Lydia clears her throat, “they both stayed home today because they haven’t been feeling too great.”

That piques his interest a bit, “but they’re-”

“Supernatural,” the banshee finishes his sentence. “I know. Which is all the more concerning that you’re showing similar symptoms. You look just as pale and have the same dark circles under your eyes. I’ll bet you haven’t even been out of bed today. How long have they been showing?” If there’s anything Lydia is good at, it’s the motherly level of care she has for him.

She’s the closest thing to a best friend Stiles has anymore.

Stiles has chalked his general shitty feeling to depression. He didn’t think it’d be a genuine illness of the body. Let alone one that could affect supernatural creatures. Not to mention the fact that he hasn’t been around the chimeras long enough for them to contract- Stiles’ stomach churns, his brain catching up.

“Any ideas what could make a human and chimeras sick?” He asks, ignoring her initial question. Stiles knows exactly how long it’s been. But saying that out loud opens the door for a lot more questions he’s also not ready to answer. Because he’s almost certain he knows the cause of this. The same reason Scott hasn’t pressed the issue too much of Stiles not being around as often.

Lydia’s mouth pulls into a sympathetic line. “Liam actually has a really good one,” she tells him. “All the times he was forcibly kept away from Scott made him upset and sometimes paranoid to the point of a stomach ache. His pack bond was twisting him up inside. He thinks they’re feeling a pull for their Alpha that’s no longer here and because it’s been so long, it’s making them sick. Almost as if their pack bonds think Theo is dead.”

Stiles doesn’t need to be a genius to know that every Lydia says them or the chimeras, that he’s included in that statement. It’s written all over her face. She’s just giving him the courtesy of not saying it out loud. And she knows that Stiles knows.

“Is there a cure for them?” He whispers softly.

The banshee offers a soft smile, “nothing of certainty. Liam is talking to Mrs. Yukimura right now about bringing Theo back. If he can even be brought back. Try and see if the pack bonds can be saved. Since none of them recognize Scott as their Alpha.”

His stomach lurches again and suddenly Stiles is unsure if he’s going to puke or cry. Neither of which he’s willing to let Lydia see. So Stiles throws himself out of bed, reaching for the towel hanging on his closet door. He knew he was angry with Scott, but Stiles never considered that he didn’t think of him as his Alpha anymore. Or that a human could fully feel the bonds this way. It makes sense to the Theo sized hole in his chest.

A sob lodges itself in his throat as his eyes burn. “That’s great,” Stiles aims to sound positive, swallowing the lump. He sniffles, “I hope it works for them.” He never told Theo how he felt, Stiles has no reason to believe it would work for him.

“Stiles-”

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he takes a careful breath to keep the sob from working its way back up his throat. “Might help me feel better.”

“Okay, but Stiles, he-” her hand touches his shoulder.

“Please,” Stiles says, tears singing his cheeks as they slide towards his chin, thankfully hidden from his turned back. He doesn’t want someone to see him cry. He can’t. Not over Theo while the pack still hates him. The chimeras get a pass from their biology. He has no excuse. “I can’t, okay? I’ll be fine,” Stiles sniffles again, nodding as though that will make his lie any more truthful. “I’ll call you later.”

Lydia squeezes his shoulder reassuringly, “okay.”

When his door closes, Stiles crumbles. Sobbing on his bedroom floor into his towel. Theo has no reason to come for him. But at least the chimeras will be okay.

—

Stiles held himself to taking a shower, but that’s about all he managed. All of the food in the fridge, even the curly fries in the freezer, didn’t sound appetizing. All he could muster was changing into clean clothes and slipping Theo’s hoodie back on. Stiles kicks himself for not breaking into the Raeken house and stealing the chimera’s cologne. The jacket lost its scent months ago.

All that matters to Stiles is that it’s Theo’s.

One last final piece of the Alpha that he can keep for himself.

His brain must have decided to take pity on him, because Stiles managed to pass out. He only even knows that because he woke up to a soft thud. Tired, sore eyes try to make his vision less grainy, seeing a figure standing in front of his window. Stiles jolts up in bed, blinking rapidly until the figure comes into focus.

“Theo?” Stiles asks, not really believing what he’s seeing. Is he still dreaming? There’s no reason for the chimera to be here. Surely this is just another one of those times his brain concocts a vision of the Alpha only for him to be stripped away. Leaving Stiles crying in bed until exhaustion sends him back to sleep.

It’s a vicious cycle.

The chimera takes a step closer, the only thing truly visible are his glowing red eyes. They make something settle in the human’s chest, a nice warmth. “Hey, little fox.”

Little fox.

That’s what Theo always called him whenever he was in a particularly flirty mood. Or when he was trying to get on the human’s last nerve. It was interchangeable, honestly. But something in the actual hearing of the name out loud after all this time… “Are you actually here?” Stiles’ eyes burn with fresh tears, “Is this real?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Theo tsks, turning on the soft lamp on Stiles’ nightstand. As gentle as the light is, the human still recoils a bit, squeezing his eyes shut so they can adjust. “I’m here. I just left the others after they fell asleep,” Theo takes a careful step towards him, like he’s worried Stiles is going to flee. “Liam told me that you were feeling just as bad as they were.”

Stiles ducks his head, “I didn’t know.”

“I’m here to help,” Theo says, “if you’ll let me.” Looking back up at the Alpha, the blanket falls off of Stiles’ shoulder. Before he can speak, the chimera asks, “are-are you wearing my hoodie?”

The human looks down at himself. The scent has long since faded from the fabric. And it’s just a plain black hoodie. Stiles wears hoodies all of the time, what would make Theo think it’s his? It’s not like the human doesn’t like his clothes a bit baggy either, especially his jackets. Though, looking at it better, it does kind of swallow him. Not even the length of Stiles’ arms are a match for the sleeves needed to fit Theo’s muscles. His fingers barely poke out.

Unable to lie, Stiles simply nods, “I found it in my jeep.”

“How long?”

Stiles fiddles with the hem of the sleeve, “whenever I need to feel safe,” he mumbles.

The Alpha crouches in front of the bed, stilling the human’s hands, “okay, but how long?”

A tear slides down his face, trying to hide it, Stiles tucks his chin and whispers, “Ever since you went to hell.”

Theo’s arms are around him in an instant, holding the human close to his chest, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” The Alpha fumbles for a second, before two thuds hit his floor. The chimera has taken his shoes off and is curling into Stiles’ bed with him, “I’m right here,” he says.

Sobs scratch Stiles’ throat as he clings to the Alpha. He didn’t think that Theo would ever come see him. Yes, he flirted. Yes, he made his intentions clear. But Stiles never once gave in. Never gave any indication that he was interested too.

“Look at me, Stiles,” Theo whispers, trying to pull back a little. But Stiles clings harder. He never wanted his pack to see him cry, he definitely doesn’t want Theo to. He’s sure the chimera is past exploiting weaknesses, but Stiles doesn’t want to seem weak. “Please don’t hide from me,” Theo says, gently bringing the human’s head up.

Tears stain his cheeks and new ones spill freely. “I never got to tell you,” Stiles hiccups. The last six months crash into him like a tidal wave and Theo’s the only one who can hold the pieces of him together.

Theo wipes his face with the pads of his thumbs, cupping Stiles face, “you didn’t have to.” The Alpha taps the human’s nose, “I always knew. I was just waiting for you to come to the conclusion yourself.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner,” Stiles closes his eyes, trying to hide his face again.

“Stop apologizing,” Theo’s voice is incredibly soft. Caring and gentle. “And stop trying to hide. You don’t have to hide anything from me, sweetheart. Definitely not your tears,” the Alpha smiles. “It tells me you care about me.”

“So fucking much,” Stiles sniffles, pleading with his emotions to calm down and enjoy the moment with the chimera. “I tried to get to the tunnels in time, but I wasn’t fast enough. When I got home I found your hoodie and I- I thought that it would help keep you with me. I lost you, Theo and it almost destroyed me. I didn’t even know that I considered you my Alpha until Lydia came by this morning.”

Theo smiles again, brushing the tears away as quickly as they can fall until they finally dry up. “I did. I felt it as soon as I became an Alpha. But I wasn’t going to push you. This isn’t your fault, Stiles. None of it is. All that matters now is that I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not upset with me?” Stiles asks. “For not telling you sooner.”

“No,” the chimera shakes his head, “not even a little bit. Like I said, I always knew the truth, I was just waiting until you were comfortable enough to tell me.” Theo assures him again, “I’m right here with you. As your Alpha, your friend, as anything you’ll let me.”

“Everything?” Stiles asks, hope blooming in his heart.

Theo’s smirk darkens, eyes flickering red, “If that’s what you want,” he leans so close they’re sharing breath.

“More than anything,” Stiles says, closing the small space of their mouths. Melting into Theo as he pulls them close and deepens their kiss.

His heart swells about three times its size being back with Theo. The Alpha growls in the back of his throat, sending the vibrations through Stiles’ chest, healing him from the inside out.

#teen wolf #steo #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #stiles x theo #theo x stiles #bad things happen bingo #Match Writes #BINGOOOO

12 notes · View notes

bilightningwhumper · 1 month ago

Text

@ailesswhumptober 2024- Day 2

Whumperless Wednesday: Unfortunate fall, car accident, “Don’t move. You’ll be okay.”

<<Previous . My AI-less Whumptober 2024 Masterlist . Next>>

Shadow of a Shield (Jamie's story) Masterlist --- SoaS Series Masterlist

Summary:

Excerpt for "Shadow of a Shield" (Jamie's story) An attack on the Starks has old memories flooding back to Jamie

Notes:

Characters: Jamie- Steve and Peggy's daughter Will- Bucky and Nat's son Harley Keener/Iron Lad (not named, but appears) Peter Parker/Spiderman (not named, but appears) Stark family (Tony, Pepper, and Morgan; mentioned, don't technically appear here) Peggy Carter (mentioned/flashback) Warnings: mentions of a car crash, pstd/anxiety attack

Ao3 link

Word count: 331

Jamie PoV

“Shadow! Come on!”

Jamie couldn’t move. Her feet felt rooted to the ground. It felt like someone had torn the breath from her lungs.

“Don’t move. You’ll be okay, sweetheart. Just don’t move.”

Mama?

“Shit. Looks like they’ve called for reinforcements.”

Faintly, Jamie could hear vehicles driving up the road towards them.

“I’ll hold them off.” she heard herself say to the other two. “Just concentrate on getting them free and away from here.”

Then she was turning, walking away from the wrecked car. No, it was a van. The Starks’ van.

She shook her head. Get it together. They need you right now. No distractions.

So she concentrated, closing her eyes. A wall of flame between them and the oncoming vehicles should work. She raised her arms.

Fwoom

Opening her eyes, she could see the flames coming from her hands, for once doing what she needed them to. A barrier rose, blocking the road from anyone racing towards them.

She could hear voices behind her. More approaching cars. But they were coming from the Compound, not the city. The Avengers. Safety.

Darkness started to cloud the edges of her vision. Stars were dancing in her eyes. She could feel the flames weaken, so she poured more energy into it. They just needed the barrier to last long enough to get the Starks to safety. She could do that. She could-

One of her legs buckled beneath her. Breathing hard, she changed her stance, forcing herself back up onto two feet..

Just… A little… longer…

Someone’s arm was around her. A voice in her ear. “Megs, let go.” Will.

She shook her head. If she talked, she’d break her concentration.

“We got them out safe. Now you need to let go.”

Her brother’s alpha command shook into her bones. The flames dies. She felt cold. Her legs caved one, then the other, beneath her. Darkness clouded the rest of her vision. Voices raised before ringing took over her ears. Then nothing.

SoaS Taglist:

No one so far

#ailesswhumptober2024 #day 2 #mcu fanfiction #shadow of a shield #whump community #whumpblr #whump writing #writing events #writing event #writing challenge #ptsd whump #collapse whump #collapsing whumpee #emotional whump #fainting whump

3 notes · View notes

if-you-fan-a-fire · 8 months ago

Text

"The category of race was also critical to the second pillar of the CFU’s [Canadian Farmworkers Union] organizing mission: ridding the industry of contractors. Contractors would supply the labour force for the farmers and, in many cases, they held as much power as the farmers. The contractor was responsible for hiring a workforce, maintaining discipline, and making payments. The farmer would not pay the workers directly; instead, the farmer would pay the contractor who, in many cases, would retain the money until the end of the season. In many instances, the contractor was also responsible for transporting workers between the field and their homes. Since labour contractors were trying to maximize profits, the vehicles they used to transport workers predictably violated many road safety standards. As Chouhan remembers, his first contractor: “came to pick me up in an Econoline van which had no seats in it, there were people sitting on the floor which was quite a shock [laughs]. No seat belts, no nothing.” Many workers have been killed due to accidents in these unsafe vehicles, and, as recently as 7 March 2007, three farmworkers died in a rollover accident while riding in an overcrowded vehicle between Abbotsford and Chilliwack. Often, contractors were from the same social and ethnic circles as the labourers whom they employed. Charan Gill identified a “colonial mentality” in comments made by farmworkers. Since the contractors who provided them with work shared familial and cultural ties with them, some of which could be traced back to Punjab, many farmworkers did not want to stand up to the contractors. Fears of losing jobs and housing were very real, and such losses could jeopardize their immigration status. Contractors who came from the same community as the workers could manipulate the latter into believing they were on their side, and, because of this, Gill notes: “in spite of our efforts, individual interests [of workers] sometimes invalidated collective interests [of their class]” because some of those workers aspired to be contractors. Simply getting safety information to farmworkers was also difficult. Since many of the workers could not read or write in English, and some were illiterate in their own languages, they were often dependent on information from the farmer and the contractor. Contractors could intentionally mislead, omit certain information, or outright lie to their workers about their legal rights. This delayed organizing efforts. To counter this information block, organizers would try to go to local temples on the weekends, where many workers went to pray. However, the labour contractors also had control over the temple executives, so organizers were often refused the right to speak. Frustrated, the organizers developed a two-part strategy. First, they would have “kitchen meetings” in which the organizer would contact one worker for a meeting in their home, and that worker would contact neighbours and friends, so “that way [they would] not [be] afraid to be seen by a labour contractor or in the temple or in a public place.” Second, because many families used the temples for social events, the organizers would ask family members to invite the CFU and thus circumvent the temple executives as organizers of social events had the “absolute right to invite anyone they want[ed].”

These strategies helped the CFU reach out to potential members and to provide valuable information regarding their legal rights. Unfortunately, despite the efforts of the CFU, contractors are still a part of the industry to this day, and anyone driving through the agricultural areas of British Columbia’s Lower Mainland can witness the painted-over shuttle buses that daily transport farmworkers from home to field."

- Nicholas Fast, ““WE WERE A SOCIAL MOVEMENT AS WELL”: The Canadian Farmworkers Union in British Columbia, 1979–1983,” BC Studies. no. 217, Spring 2023. p. 44-45.

#canadian farmworkers union #participatory democracy #union organizing #farm workers #agricultural workers #indian immigration to canada #immigrant workers #racialized workers #farming in canada #working class struggle #academic quote #strike #union politics #labour contracting #exploitation #reading 2024

8 notes · View notes

martynrandles · 2 years ago

Text

I was traveling back from Caernarfon the weekend before last on this very stretch of road & saw that a Fox & a Badger had been killed.

As a boy aged 12 in the 1980’s I was hit by a car & knocked off my bicycle, believe you me I am still in pain, I can’t take pain killers due to the amount of pain killers prescribed to me as a child messing with my heart condition. So from aged 18 to now knocking on the doors of my half century I’ve had to learn to deal with it. The women who pulled out and hit me with her car in the 1980’s said she didn’t see me. Time slowed down & I didn’t feel a thing but saw everything in extreme slow motion, until I hit the ground. I did feel as though giant wings were wrapped around me. My point is it was a Sunday afternoon, her being in a rush destroyed my life, made an already disabled boy more disabled… yet good luck getting help in Britain if your disabled.

I was forced into hauling on my bicycle brakes when an on duty policeman in north Devon decided to speed up the hill in the rain without his lights on. I highsided my brand new bicycle and bent the frame. What the fuck was he in such a rush for late at night? Badgers regularly used to accompany me up that hill as my dicky ticker doesn’t allow me to cycle up hill. This one beautiful Badger, fearless amazing creature used to even walk up ahead then wait for me to catch him up, even chilling out waiting with me half way up the steep hill before the nightmare Summit. I eventually went to see a GP about my hip, 2011 the preventable “accident” happened, 2012 I went to see a quack about my hip & came out (eventually) with heart failure. To be fair I’d lost so much weight as I had contracted an “unknown virus” whilst surfing north Devon’s so called blue flag beaches… & I’m not the only surfer from that village either.

I have witnessed drivers nowadays in England, driving way too bloody fast, without a care for their own safety, the safety of others & not even giving a flying fuck about wildlife (please excuse my language if you’re easily offended, but as an actual Englishman who studied linguistics at University “flying fuck” is the appropriate usage… as in: it’s obvious the British Government do not give a flying fuck about the British Taxpayer or the NHS… etc,.) If you care about all creatures great & small & can spare a few moments to sign the petition above, you will help to make a difference to local wildlife in Britain that the Government & the elites would rather cull or hunt to extinction.

Once the elites are done getting rid of the wildlife they don’t have a use for guess who’s next? I’ll give you a clue, actually I’ll just make it plain & simple, “We” are next on their list.

Please accept my apologies if anything I have written offends or causes any upset to any reader. It is never my intention to do so. But today is a day I dread every year, Danny died today 4 years ago, he was my best friend. And he’d love my rant today… rest in peace Danny boy, & if you still love mischief go fuck with the bastards while they sleep. RIP dude, catch a wave for me buddy x

#badger #badgers #british wildlife #help our wildlife #we are custodians of this planet #fox #Foxes #roadkill #fuck the British Government #your elected politicians don’t give a flying fuck about anything #drivers slow the fuck down #was it worth killing that animal with your car so you could get home to watch whatever bullshit you can’t live without?#slow the fuck down #safe crossing points for wildlife

63 notes · View notes

itsdappleagain · 1 year ago

Text

hell yeah baby backstory time

it is time for the boston tea party caper!!

notes under the cut assss always

this episode is a bit of a mix-up for me. i like it but not my favorite all things considered. i'm still excited though- some of the moments in this episode are GOLD

HQ!!!

JHSGHSD "hey red hows san diego" "not great" "im not talking about you girl"

"i thought he lived in the cloud"

player looks so unamused pls

PLEASE "though i am hearing voices again" HOW WAS THAT RELEVANT. WERE U HEARING VOICES BEFORE

shadowsan is the best character here he's so funny

THE "THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT"

if they vowed to use their "superpowers" for good and ivy hotwired that car later on i guess maybe they used to steal cars and then decided to go straight maybe

ivy is so cool

OH hey also by the way their younger designs. SO GOOD carmen should have gotten a dorky in between phase we were robbbbed

small

not trey and his butt chin

i like how the screen glitches when its paused on trey. new headcanon this is a powerpoint presentation they threw together right then and there

you dare knock LYDIA

"i got this" zack says with the confidence of a man who just ate taco bell learning they won't see another restroom for eight more hours on the road trip

the talking through the race kills me every time 😭you can't hear each other

man this racetrack has an overhead drone keeping exact pace with the leading car

zack had a chase devineaux phase too once

carmen sandiego: oh no no we're rated for seven year olds!! the boston tea party caper: the mafia boss who lent us money threatened to put a hit out on us if we didn't commit a robbery for him on a suspicious front for a money laundering operation for the mob

the main reason i dislike this episode and need for speed is because zack doesnt ever get to learn. he was impulsive and it was bad in duke of vermeer, he was impulsive and it was bad in boston tea (okay fine, it shows us his younger self! fine with that) BUT THEN HE IS IMPULSIVE AND ITS BAD AGAIN NEXT TIME. FOR THE SAME REASONS whyyy wouldn't they take duke of vermeer as an opportunity to show his growth instead of making him out to be some angry no control childish idiot who sacrifices untold amounts for a little payback. and drags ivy down with him EVERY TIME

there's something so cool and sinister about ivy smiling, reassuring him, and then slowly pulling down the ski mask to hide any emotion. ivy and zack seem like they could have been prime targets for VILE recruitment- they could have gone down a much darker path

shadowsan was so invested

carmen's puberty crammed in those few months between the boat and the boston holy shit

player accidently saved zack and ivy's asses by turning off those cameras jgjsgkd

the second perspective of zack crashing into the wall kills me every time pls

here goes carmen with "its for your own safety" who taught her that phrase

i love how z and i immediately think that this person couldnt possibly be...i dont know. an employee or a manager or someone who works at the donut place. she's gotta be another thief. i mean they are right but like why

the giant ass green vault behind the fridge door 😭

WE'RE FOLLOWIN THAT LADY FOLLOWIN THOSE BREADCRUMBS TO THE DOUGH

wait didn't they arrive in a truck parked on the other side of the building

carmen ALSO had a chase devineaux phase

???? isnt that truck she just stole the one they got there in???

i mean carmen. girl. you kicked them out of their own robbery and then stole their car did you expect them not to follow you

carmen's devineaux side coming out <3 also completely shameless carmen cant drive comic plug

there are so many car accidents literally everyone could have died in for these two (this and need for speed) episodes. credits roll as the paramedics show up to carmen who just CRASHED HER CAR INTO A FUCKING HOLE HEAD FIRST

they had to make sure to show us that carmen was literally the worst driver possible to justify zack being there

i love zack immediately getting super friendly with the random woman who just stole their car, crashed it, and then stole it again with them inside

carmen: haha suave quip zack and ivy, the two most neurodivergent bitches on the planet: IN THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR

also carmen looks hilariously uncomfortable wedged behind this shipping crate. she's experiencing her first infodump

the loaning money joke is actually very funny

i kind of like how awkward carmen still is in some areas. she still talks like a VILE operative- she reports her every move to player, she simply responds with "understood." because thats the only way she knows how to relate

ANGY

ivy: oh no camera: zooms out to show the most outraged face the animators could draw

screenshots of all time

can you imagine your weirdgirl little 16 year old classmate dips and you see her a few months later and she's turned into this trenchcoat wearing 5'7" long haired adult woman whose only goal is to make your life a thousand times harder

not quite sure how this episode said "oh yeah. her classmates who knew her as a kid constantly call her by the wrong name and disrespect her despite constant corrections. and also her mother figure, seeing the new her, disowns her with the proclamation that this new person killed her child when she took this new name and betrayed her" and made it not transgender

le chevre was so cool about everything for like three minutes

HEY okay my favorite detail of the show is that when carmen runs in this episode she gets way out of breath because she isn't in shape yet i LOVE that detail

i have never heard more emotion from gina than when she went "YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME"

THROW HER OVERBOARD

el topo is also cool about things for like three minutes

zack and ivy bounce constantly between dumb orange cat energy and golden retriever who would jump into the ocean for a guy who petted them once energy

legend has it carmen still manages to throw el topo and le chevre in the water every time they are within a mile of it

i love le chevre backing up and running away from her because he's like oh shit. wasn't she like the best in our class?? is she going to kill me or something?? why did she leave VILE what the fuck im booking it nah

YEAH I NEED THE ROPE CARMEN IS SO MEAN IN THIS EPISODE ITS SO FUCKING FUNNY

IVY RESPONDING TO THE ASK FOR "MUSCLES" WAS A UNIVERSAL LESBIAN WIN FOR EVERY SINGLE PERSON ON THE PLANET GOD WHAT AN ICONIC SCENE. MILADY. ALL SHE HAD TO DO WAS KISS HER HAND GOD

its never brought up ever again that ivy's "shirt" is actually a blue undershirt and a black vest and that is criminal we needed a gay vest. something

the slomo kick is so hot

LE CHEVRE STEPPING ON HER HEAD

those plates must have hurt so fucking bad

okay well. you DO commit crimes

"the police have no idea they exist" okay. TELL THEM

SEE? VEST.

"got any room for us on your next job?" "you know what? sure! come along and help me take down this global criminal organization. uhhh what are your names again btw?"

yall i dont think eddie is going to want to see you for the money

A FLYING CAR he said yeah zack that was smart

i love how offended by literally everything the bostonians do shadowsan is

THEY MADE SHADOWSAN GET IN THE BACK BEHIND THE SEAT HAHAHAHHJHD

that hq wont be so wasted when you die of hypothermia! good luck carmen

alrighty, thats the beantown caper all done! only two more to catch up on before I'm on time again for my favorite episode this saturday >:)

#carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego 2019 #cs weekly #csweekly #carmen sandiego weekly #liveblog

40 notes · View notes