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unproduciblesmackdown · 3 years

Note

returning the favor: do you have any hcs re: winston, past or present, that you haven't expounded upon before or at length or just feel like talking about again. whatever you like

Thank You.......yeah idk really what hc's i've like "officially" described here that often lol, but then also there's that whole complication where i don't really ever come up with ideas & when asked anything i'm probably going [???] like, classics like "what do you like out of [broad parameter]" & it's like damn....i dunno. what ideas do i have about winsotn who i've thought about every day for > 2 yrs??? that's tough.....& Then the further chaos of like, when i do have hc's or w/e it's less discrete, concrete invented ideas & more towards the end of the spectrum that's like "well i kinda interpret this part of canon vaguely this way" &/or "i have This vague notion that i haven't solidified into a pretend fact or that i'm not at all committed to or take that seriously" where it's like, not only is this not really nailed down but it's basically free floating / i might have other ideas that would contradict each other lol. seems like a more concise list of Stats that are fully/exclusively my ideas is more exciting, but instead i can offer vague "i dunno / what ifs" based on vibes that i verbosely describe lmao, plus i'll forget a bunch of ideas i may have had i'm sure but you know. what else have i ever offered; never really trying to sell this material to otherwise uninterested parties or only make posts that guaranteed more than one person might enjoy, why would i be starting now; and ig if i write a bunch of stuff here & go "oh & i forgot like a half dozen obvious things" i can add on to it if it's a big deal.....plus it's always tricky with billions in particular being vague abt its own characters lmao, we only see [outside of work] personal stuff if it's going to become directly tied to [definitely at work] professional plotlines, or Maybe glimpse some character contextualizing things for the more central characters....side characters have more blanks to fill but also that means. just more that's blank lol & kinda a mystery of Up To Interpretation.....i figured one way to have any structure for this at all is to have a part looking at each winston involving episode's info. well anyways, after this meandering intro that kind of illustrates how i'm sure the rest of things will go here lol, i'm just gonna throw a bunch of stuff down in general. thanks again for the prompt to do so, b/c why not

really the one concrete discrete idea i have which isn't in the canon text is, of course: he is autistic

does he Know? idk. either way, think he's pretty aware of how he operates (& how he Can't operate), but if he doesn't know that's probably more for the "also: he's self loathing, which was basically textually implied" stuff lol. just mentioned it but i do always enjoy the tayston idea that taylor's talking abt in the past having it floated by a therapist/s or whomever that they could be autistic, them considering it but it not applying; winston going "hmm" & doing his own considering & researching & then maybe exclusively sharing the news w/taylor....but of course, maybe he's figured it out himself at some point before. i do think he'd figure it out himself though rather than anyone else directly suggesting it (maybe out here being diagnosed with "just the guy who sucks who we don't like / won't act right or normal" sort of usual experience) & i think, if he knows, he's not about to want ppl at work to know, b/c not as though anyone (but taylor & other quants) particularly seems to be impressed by his quanting proficiency, but he sure gets some validation/affirmation through that route (more re: that of course) and knows that ppl going "oh he's autistic so of course he's better at Doing Math / computer stuff as a like, mechanical efficiency sort of thing" or whatever. and the fact that taylor can interact with him / gives him some leeway to generally do his thing means he's kind of already got space to operate how he operates, see the start of this section....and idk. transitioning into the next section ig

just an Interpretation Of Canon thing here but, re: how these characters generally operate & what their reason is for being around doing stuff in the first place, i guess it's that winston does genuinely like to do & is interested in the math/coding stuff involved here, was also genuinely interested in working for taylor specifically (whatever The Hype specifically was), then you have taylor having the "despite your demeanor, your skills are superior" stance & appreciating what he can do & letting him do it by hiring him for real & all, & here we are, Q is for Quantitative, baby......he must find it rewarding enough to be getting to do this quanting stuff and also, the potential for validation when anyone recognizes he's good at it & by extension finds something about him good & wants him around to any degree

okay just that Episode By Episode stuff for a section here

3x03:

kinda extra room for interpretation b/c this was written as a one off character and reintroducing him in 3x09, written to be recurring, feels like it kinda offers a Soft Reboot for what we got here, where i guess how i take things is that we can suppose in both 3x03 & 3x09 winston's putting on a deliberate Performance to some degree based on what he thinks the potential employer wants to see, but it's also not completely fake / inaccurate either time, & like, maybe the 3x03 vibe wasn't a type of performance he'd only just ever put on for this axe cap interview, & even if it was deliberately bold maybe he was sort of thinking he Could bank on his value as a quant meaning he holds most of the cards (or can get away with acting like it)

building on that & as a More General point of interpretation again: think it's easy to suppose winston could've had an existence w/many elements of frustrations & disappointments & Rejection, but where like, he did figure out these areas of interest & proficiency that seemed to be a more positive force in his life, & leaned into them / focused on them further for it, & i could see him focusing on milestones / graduating from one thing to the next & conceptualizing like, well, if i just get to This point by working on This thing then i'll have it together & be able to move through existence more successfully, like, there's winston going into undergrad & kind of disappointed he's not having that good a time socially / feels like he's missing out / being left out still, but he can be like, well that's fine (: i'm totally fine abt it b/c i'm focusing on the Education & Experience here & when i'm entering the job market as an amazing quant anyone would want to hire then ppl will be seeing me in a positive light & things will fall into place / go great for me / i'll feel like i fit in & am doing things right within some structure. & i think maybe he Did have all those other job offers / opportunities & he was at least partly feeling a bit "objectively" confident, & also maybe just hoping he Could be that confident & that, you know, if he goes ahead & acts like that's the case, it could be confirmed / become true....anyways then obviously disillusionment time

since his outfits are introduced here: more "just how i'm interpreting canon" stuff in that i do just suppose he is mostly focusing on comfort & it'd kinda get in the way of things if he couldn't. flipflops might've been a statement piece but also i figure at least in part about the comfort / lack of much opportunity for restriction or ill fit or chafing texture or anything, same goes re: pants & shirts. interesting he likes to wear the patterned layers but doesn't really wear like, stripes or plaid ever. plus it could well be that Just A Tee is too informal unless you're the formalest of all by virtue of position, i.e. the ceo, but also we sure often enough see him wearing hoodies &/or multiple layers, like, maybe that's just for warmth or weight or what have you, always considering "what if it's about being self conchy as well (different way of saying self conscious)"

3x09:

so yeah with winston not having taken another job (at least maybe only like, temporary ones as these self contained gigs / just something to pay the bills) figure it's been a Depressive Period for him here lol & deliberately going on a journey of like self reflection / examination & going "haha yeah hated what i saw" is like, i don't think the self loathing is anything new, the confidence in 3x03 kind of an optimistic bandaid lol like well here's the new me as i understand / hypothesize / hope he could be, totally confident in being backed up by how valuable he is as a quant, then taylor kind of ripped that off and wound's open again but that wound was also not brand new or something he was unaware of / that didn't affect him before now

re: math meetup, i can see that being him presenting more evidence of his talent as a quant but also specifically going "see, i do this collaborative thing" to present this more conciliatory and cooperative approach to taylor, & am also taking it as evidence that he really does Enjoy math / coding stuff beyond it simply being a means to a professional end. i also like to think he has been / continues going to math meetup regularly, at least once a month, maybe every other week, and that it's this semi social event, like the relevant irl group you found back in the day that like, meets up for pizza before and drinks afterwards. i also like to think that, like, while he might come off as A Bit Much during said math meetup / just speak up frequently enough and often enough with some insistence lol, people Are there to meet up about the math and his contributions Are valued despite if his delivery/approach isn't always endearing or whatever. and even if he's not really popular / warmly embraced in the more [socializing event] bookends of the meetup, he's perfectly tolerated, and there's even a person or two or three (also regular attendees) who do vibe with him enough to like, invite / even want him to sit with them / talk with them outside that Math Setting. math meetup pals, maybe he doesn't meet up with these people outside these events but maybe they have each other's contacts and sometimes text. not these intimate personal relationships, but still something real and positive and refreshing. it'd be nice if math meetup could kinda be like what he hoped for from quanting, this way his math lets him "qualify" to access this group / activity, his aptitude "making up for" perceived lack of interpersonal / social charm & charisma & what have you, & having some reliably friendly people around even if of course that's not on its own going to mean he's totally socially fulfilled / not often lonely or anything. hc: he's often lonely & not totally socially fulfilled

he does, of course, want to work for taylor specifically, as long as they want him to, and this is sort of his second chance to find validation through working as a quant lol. think that yeah sure winston likes validation in general, who doesn't but also of course he's maybe a bit Above Average sensitive to / keen on it, but he'll also care about Affirmation if it's coming from people whose opinion he particularly values. think that it's easy to suppose he's also especially sensitive to taylor's assessments here thanks to the fact they really hit a (raw) nerve with him like, sure is the potential to get caught up in feedback loop city & say, have a few months mired in self loathing & an especial lack of certainty & confidence, if someone's kinda gone "i hate your self hatred" lol, but he also Did have this especial interest in / high opinion of taylor before that 3x03 interview, & so that's what continues to be part of it here

but then also interpreting that second 3x09 scene as like, he Does independently Know His Value as a quant and yknow not only has his pride but also can't and isn't going to first and foremost focus on trying to socially perform being peak Accommodating and Appealing here lol. but he still cares about what taylor thinks, wants to work for/with them, and i think it was Mutually Appreciated in the last scene that there was Mutual Effort to cooperate w/the other, giving him a Cue instead of just being mad & obfuscating it unless & until giving up on him completely or w/e is Constructive. interpreting winston as someone who sure can be a bit petty on purpose, especially in the face of some wounded pride (where he seems to take pride in his quant abilities & maybe not much of anything else: see the self loathing otherwise), but isn't really one to be deliberately antagonistic, especially not towards, yknow, the person he specifically wants to appeal to, but he also knows he can come off as grating whether inadvertently or not, so he might be testing the waters a little as well

3x11

he's using headphones even though no one else is in the room, that's a preference / he may also just like to block out other sound in general, as there's no audio of [winston's music faintly playing as / before he takes off his headphones] or indication he paused anything. does he like metal, what with the yngwie malmsteen reference? maybe, but that might just be a Billions Reference thing that isn't meant to indicate much / anything abt the specific character. i don't have any hcs about it anyways besides "okay" if so

first time we see his watch, it's not the calculator watch until s5 but i am a fan of said calc watch....gotta suppose it could represent him being here for the math of it all, what with how fancy/expensive watches are kinda the whole like status / power play thing, and a calculator watch is, afaik, not expensive, these casio calculator watch listings i'm seeing are all priced like, $15 to $25 range. so.

2nd scene is the first time we see sleeves pushed up, a frequent choice, maybe if he's focusing sleeves against forearms / Wrists & Hands can be bothersome. also not the first time he puts his hands in his pockets but i think that's a deliberate choice for winston's sort of Default Pose, equate it to the choice to have jared hang / hold on to his backpack straps.

guess he can also be a bit petty / rude / grating on purpose if ppl are getting in the way of his mathing / coding or otherwise thwarting it, at least probably taylor can relate / sympathize what with them wanting to Get It Right / being bothered if people get it wrong but could've avoided this

noticing all the caffeine and the fact he maybe didn't leave the basement / was powering through that project All At Once....just noting that down as a potential Approach, wanting to not interrupt focus &/or bear down & keep a fairly intense pace until it's finished / stay in the zone or what have you

definitely doing some deliberately cocky Testing / pushing back / amicable power struggle with taylor there, confirming he does have leverage due to that quanting ability after all, Despite His Demeanor / not being "sweet"

by this point definitely consciously kinda wants taylor to rail him.

4x03

i have no concrete hc's of instances inspiring winston to think he's "always seeing the future" but god i wish he did. he's right a lot though, maybe he just notices as much lol

talking mostly to taylor here, then concluding with "i only thought it but didn't say it; doesn't count....damnit." like he wants Their validation thanks, even if recognizing his Win here still wouldn't help them either way....also first time we see him w/coworkers for real, he's really freely Interacting.....time to go ahead and say he'd like to be work friends / at least have friendly interactions at work, might be a bit desperate for such positive social interactions, especially in this environment where he thinks the "objectively" good thing about him is most relevant, but it's cringe & fail (&/or vulnerable to Attack) to outright Want something, like validation / affirmation / a positive response or a simple "yeah you're right" "positive" response

first Space Shirt, followed by ones that are like, also &/Or Sci Fi Shirts. does he like space? i guess so

he's autistic

4x08

here & in 4x11, we don't know how he's gotten this info about taylor re: the arc w/their dad or with axe cap, but he's apparently mused on it on his own like this & isn't just quoting what someone else told him about how taylor must feel about xyz & how that might apply to the situations at hand, even though (unless he cassandra'd it) he wouldn't've had that much cause to suppose it'd definitely be relevant to have ideas about how taylor feels / is navigating a situation & why, maybe he just likes to be prepared like that / stay in the loop but yknow, maybe he's just also interested in them as a person beyond what's most immediately relevant to him doing quant stuff for them

he's already done the sort of kicking himself / wincing / apologizing or agreeing he fucked up an exchange thing before but, the genuine disappointment / momentary discouragement in it always lol....self loathing guy

love how he has these little like, clarifying explanations of things. "total control of the instrument," "always seeing the future," "because i win".....he's out here wanting to communicate to connect & to be understood, not so much as a potential for a power play / status climb and thus a conflict.....can see ppl who are used to / Do see interactions in that light to interpret winston yelling about having won as a like, rubbing it in people's faces show of superiority thing, but pretty sure he's just excited and wants a high five

4x11

having talked about the fact none of the desks in the tmc hq main floor seem to be winston's (& knowing that Could just be wroland not being reliably available to be in the bg of shots lol, analyzing s4 shots for some Consistently Empty desk) but it is fun to also consider that maybe tmc Could've had a secret extension in that that quant haunt in the basement was kept. a little more furnishing and it could be pretty chill, even though the lack of windows might not always be ideal. where's he sit!

also the whole "guy who'd be the first one smothered" moment like, guess i could've mentioned it in 3x03 more but yeah my Headcanon here is that winston maybe has a master's degree, not a phd though (him saying "50 phds" in 3x11 i think was meant to differentiate from him on both points, aka he's 1 guy, without a phd) & this is his first "real" job in any field. b/c i'm guessing like, people are here to get Paid, but as mentioned w/the watch (& just how winston acts in general, he doesn't really seem like he's raring to show off / really take advantage of having money or anything) it doesn't seem like he's, like, the "exceptionally focusing on personally making as much as possible" guy, and lauren's remark seems to emphasize / place the context on winston just not having like, savings from prior salaried years at a job or anything, more of a practical matter, maybe he's out here hoping for some more financial security, also they are all living in nyc, so. on that note, maybe he has an okay apartment but like, not without problems / not absolutely ideal, but it's okay. this would just be Convenient as an hc also lol

don't think the monologue was completely memorized, but it wasn't completely off the cuff either, he'd maybe been brainstorming scripts in his head / had some particular parts solidified word for word, but also hardly think he was guaranteed planning to deliver an admonishlogue at all, seems like it was some important factors that he was just kind of already irritated, nobody was listening / people Were social pressuring him to drop it or not interested in entertaining like "yeah i think you should talk to taylor about it" at all, think it was clear that talking to others was only going to lead to them telling him to drop it / trying to not have anyone say anything to taylor, and then that taylor just jumped in, which i hardly think he was hoping for

always Something that we can expressly see winston moving to sit down in that soon to be empty meeting room as everyone else is clearly filing out lol, like, can see how he might not be able to go "well, back to work" immediately and need some irritation / feeling like shit / guess who just got yeeellllllllllled aaaaaat to burn off, might need some time to absorb "well i guess i just deferred so no bonus as was probably expected," but can also suppose that maybe when winston gets majorly Shut Down he has shutdowns. saying all of four words in the wake of things, otherwise the fact he has this approach of tensing up, not talking at all, kind of just holding onto eye contact as his last way of "properly" participating in the exchange w/o bailing entirely, while also outwardly withering, like clearly these kinds of moments are pretty significantly affecting....feels like he could find it difficult to talk much, or at all, in the wake of some / need some time to recuperate a bit & have some distance & quiet & not just jump back into work like he's having a fine and normal time. sometimes pondering like, not only those notions like taylor insisting winston not be Interrupted when he hasn't technically started talking yet (giving him the buffering / latency time) but also like, fun kinda imagining them sitting across from each other having a texting conversation....or times winston would rather have an exchange via email......or make use of the sticky notes......or just have taylor talking to him and picking up on his nonverbal responses

winston's very Not present in tmc meetups / get togethers this season & again we know that this could be because his actor wasn't very available but it's still the case In Canon that there's only so many tmcers and they're all seeing each other outside work / market hours for varyingly formal or informal purposes & he's never included. & simultaneously hold the hc's that he could be choosing not to go or he could just never be invited in the first place l o l.....in either of these situations the reason for declining to go or being excluded could be up to "b/c other ppl don't like having him around" and idk, best case scenario is he doesn't want to go for some other reason, but he acts pretty okay with the All Hands meetups we do see / when in meetings with the other named employees he's pretty raring to interact with them, so :/

4x12

i do like to think it's fun to imagine What If Taylor Had A Phonecall With Winston Before This Monologue; someone once told me that explaining is an admission of failure, i'm sure you remember, i was on the phone with you, sweetheart.....just them both having a more sympathetic approach with each other and a sort of dialed back reconciliation, tbt 3x09, without an audience / roomful of other people

do think that his wearing a tmc logo tee into axe cap hq was a deliberate Statement Piece, like wearing flipflops into axe cap in his true first time being there lol

first time we see the backpack, & the headphones (in this season), like the point you (nothingunrealistic) made about the backpack possibly kind of exerting pressure / compression in a Sensory Way. let's see it again

as good a time as any to bring up how it's such a consistent pattern that it Must be a choice that winston smiles in this direction :/ and grimaces / winces / frowns this way :\ but a choice of the actor of course, was it ever a conscious thing on winston's end, would not put it beyond the realm of possibility he's ever consciously thought of stuff like "even if words fail me(tm) i Gotta hang on to eye contact".....i'm thinking of times he is smiling hard enough that you just gotta do it more symmetrically, like here in 4x12

5x01

he likes bagels

think that this could've been another case of "people who are used to interactions used for conflict / power plays / stepping on other people to status climb (axe cappers in general, maybe team ben having to be extra prone to be on the lookout for these strategies when they're more often on the receiving end of them) misinterpreting winston socializing as means of connection (wanting to talk about the common work thread / interest with coworkers)"

even if for some reason quants were cold shouldering axe cappers like, a sound strategy even if team ben are worthy exceptions. Winston Can Get Petty When People Blame Quants Talking About Being Quants For Axe Cappers Harassing Tmc & also when in the process of doing so everyone's like "also you're smarter than us but no you're not, any math quants could do fundamental analysts could do better" like, winston getting more deliberately antagonistic when ppl are going after his Math Aptitude / value as a quant when that's his "objective" point of pride & confidence & possibly like haha self loathing can't get me here

5x02

winston's decimal points being more precise here i think indicates that the show is not taking the stance of "yeah the quants are just any old analysts with an attitude of superiority" lol

do think he selected that particular seating placement b/c it's like, hey furthest away from axe cap, most aligned with taylor's desk & angled towards it, perfect.....what a letdown

guess this episode suggests he and mafee have chats sometimes, and winston maybe confides At All Sensitive Info w/the guy? bold

always just smh like well thank god we were given this subplot where winston was a plot device really for dollar bill's arc or whatever............what a gift

5x03

just noticing as always how winston is the one person saying they should go for it vs the other two's skepticism / trepidation, and taylor decides to go for it.....they do value his input / trust his judgment

i am also noticing how often winston, as the math guy who doesn't really fit in w/ the whole axe / caply approach & style, has this role in giving taylor these crucial opportunities to pursue their own direction rather than be mired down in the misery of axe cap determining everything....3x11 & his algorithm letting them break completely away from axe cap, 4x11 & his admonishlogue making some Points & then next episode taylor does decide to abandon the revenge jag & says they were wrong & they're sorry....5x03 & this nlp strategy plotline being the first thing taylor could actively pursue for tmc after 2 eps of being dragged painfully through axe cap nonsense, & the fact this, in the next episode, leads to the Impact Fund idea / mase carb

5x04

see that last point

5x05

guess that until confirmed, The Glances being significant is a Headcanon Interpretation lol. anyways i do like taylor giving him these discreet, nonverbal cues as a very deliberate method of communication titrated betwixt them

oh right and an Age Cue here, before that was nailed down i think i already hc'd winston as either the same age as, or a year older than taylor, and that's still true lol, think that's how it goes with the timelines (taylor's being kinda uncertain, and winston's as well, having prior just kinda gone "well if taylor's 22 when they show up as the typical post undergrad age, and each season spans approx a year, and maybe winston spent just a year or two post undergrad getting a master's b/c nothing nails down how long it would take & he could've kinda been ahead of the curve as it were, he could be, say, 23 thru 25 in s3 when he shows up, to taylor's Maybe 23" as the Idea)

just wants to work for taylor as long as they'll have him, but would also like to be openly valued / affirmed on a pretty basic level lol...

one of those matters that's like, i do think that this is what the material is Trying to convey but it's not concrete / explicit, in that i think winston somewhat Likes rian right off lol like. i mean he's also still annoyed on principle, this is maybe his replacement & that stings that it's even a possibility & of course he has reason to want to feel like "oh well this person Clearly sucks" lol, but then there he is trying to scope out the situation & get immediate intel & it's like, here's this fellow 20something you immediately think is pretty (the mental comparison to an A lister as a dunk, lmao) & you see her being perfectly friendly with your nice coworker you're also friendly enough with, that's one degree of separation, now here he comes talking about how cool & epic & smart & capable she is, again makes sense he's still first & foremost bothered by the situation & has cause to just be more jealous about how well everyone immediately thinks of her (see: winston making bad first impressions that may never be undone, the fact other coworkers were probably never going around openly impressed with / praising him after meeting him for 5 sec, or like, ever) but i suppose this immediate underlying sense of attraction / affinity hits in that First Sighting as well

love that we see the feet up on the desk show of confidence again, very funny & glad it's back.....a tool in his arsenal for when he's Very Bothered But (unsuccessfully) Acting Very Unbothered / when he's trying to pitch for his employment lol

when did he have a first gf? perfect time for an hc.....feels like it'd have been like, idk, older high schoolers at the youngest, that kind of emotional commentary....or in college. sometimes pondering the idea like, what if he had a bf first actually.....or not, & Feeling A Way around other guys sometimes like, hmm guess i think this guy is pretty cool &/or i'm kinda like "god i wish that were me" about, then some more noticeable Tension as he's older even if he can't really discern the reason b/c this person's pretty nice & cool actually, hmm. then one day you're doing hw together with a while for code to compile & Oh Hey Lol

meanwhile think clearly rian defuses the Reason For Rivalry (and also clearly immediately likes him / interacting with him & you know, outright sticks up for him & in this significant way) & then when they connect over Math it's all coming together very outright like Oh Hey Lol 😳

also he Gets Right Back To Work easily enough, & like, i think already there's a deliberate performance of "i'm now totally unbothered," but he's just pretty good at shaking things off apparently. & he kind of has to be, to not bail completely or else tamp down his own personality / avoid interactions, but you know. plus that like, he may get irritated when his pride's wounded but around here people can have a whole crisis & arc about it if their egos are bruised in the slightest, so like. pretty blasé

5x06

this isn't really any hc or Interpretation by any stretch but this is the first time we've seen winston pull that particular attitude in that second scene with rian and it's beautiful.....if something's bothering him he's so often like outright indignant but this is like, i'm Bothered but i'm being so dignant about it, for like 4 sec

also the bright green hoodie / bright, high contrast, geometric blockbuster tee is so Vivid but like, always noting how he wears relatively colorful outfits. fun to go "maybe this one's deliberately extra eye catching b/c of this new crush" lol

5x07

the difficulty in reading that much into things when the lack of sobriety could be making any & everything an outlier, & can't even really read into "apparently down to take stimulants (beyond caffeine) on a dime" b/c well, so is everyone else, so that this situation can unfold, we knew he had a crush on rian (or i guess we didn't, but this is pretty direct about it), we knew he likes validation, taylor Knows him well enough that it's not just like "oh he's acting weird? well that's winston for you" to them, which we also knew but it's fun to confirm further lol

and now for some more free floating / general concepts

family? i have no idea. feel like he either has no siblings or several but yknow, anything's possible. we know what he's like Now, don't think he got that solid self esteem / self confidence as an emergent quality from [everything that happened to him before 3x03] & don't suppose he has this like, rock solid close warm familial relationship of understanding & unconditional love & support w/whoever he grew up with, parents or siblings or whoever he lived with....like, the relationship/s could be Fine but you know, still not all that close

i don't think he was every completely friendless (or if he was, it didn't last Too long) in terms of like, throughout school maybe he had some pals, no amazing close [fingers crossed Like That] ones where someone had like, grown up as his next door bestie and they did everything together & knew everything about each other, nothing all that close, but he had people to sit with at lunch or what have you, even if at times like, the table nobody else really sits at but the people who don't have anywhere else to sit lmao. maybe some slightly closer friendships here & there, but people often kind of got subsumed into other friend groups that he wasn't otherwise a part of / otherwise just kind of gradually distanced again...but also possible he had perfectly amicable occasions of like, maybe only having a class or two with certain people, not striking up intimate friendships but hitting it off well enough.........like, winston's out here Not having been stomped down into suppressing his personality all the time, he's still fairly earnest & forthcoming & eager to connect, just sort of vaguely going for "he maybe have always had this element of discouragement & disappointment re: socializing / connecting / forming relationships / sometimes just being accepted on a basic level, but he also didn't have his spirit totally extinguished either" although there's also the room for stuff like, yknow, him Holding Out Hope like "well nobody likes me now / i'm unhappy but maybe once i'm in college [gets to college & still isn't having a great time] okay well once i Enter The Workforce" lol. you know

but it's also like, hardly think he's Only Just Now experiencing the [winston: ___ everyone: get his ass] type stuff & pushback & punishment & disdain over not really doing anything but people hate his style & vibe, & feel like there's also still room for like, yep wow got burned sometimes / having had some pretty negative experiences......we do have to end up in this place where, you know, 3x03 happens and he doesn't just go "guess finance isn't for me!" & dust himself off & go get some Guarantees from some tech firms, & instead he's Really Glad [Taylor] Called & hasn't taken some other more desired job between 3x03 & that call & is immediately like "good news: i do hate myself" so like, can't see him having just thrived his way to this point....evidently not all dating relationships have been just epic highs & victories, maybe he has those math meetup pals now & maybe idk there's other people he's in sort of in contact with, maybe people from college / grad school or the like, still not that close, figure he's generally been lonely like, overall, despite regularly enough seeking out / striving for connections

oh yeah speaking of, the idea that he has a cat maybe lol, in part simply for company, a little guy that lives in your house / apartment....but also maybe he doesn't

always just some general notions like, also idk maybe he engages in hobbies, talks to people through that just like with math meetup....talked about the Embroidery idea, got that computers/programming connection, was thinking like, idk fuck it amateur photography, develop your own film, maybe he took a class in college or high school or something, same with like, maybe he plays a musical instrument, said "the cello, why not" about that as an early [shrug] idea lol. he does like space, maybe he does Anything with that....rip to any astronomy clubs In Nyc like, guess you're not seeing shit, but. 4x11 au, after deferring his bonus he goes to some cool cinematographic celestial occasion like taylor & the sea glass fish carousel lmao. taylor catches up & they have their [i'm sure you remember, i was on the phone with you, sweetheart] exchange lol.....except also not, b/c you wouldn't really want to have Parallels with m/any moments ft. wendy & taylor :/

recalled like a particularly casual / throwaway idea about like "lol what if he was somewhat thalassophobic" in part b/c once actor william dropped that lore abt himself in an interview, but. could have somewhat some other phobia/s. or not really any! what a world

maybe sometimes he's out here like, single & ready to Fuck like, focusing on just hooking up w/people sometimes rather than really looking to date at the juncture, although it could both be true like, he'd Like to be dating but also doesn't really currently want to do all the Putting Himself Out There & such of seeking it out / trying to consciously navigate it, but sometimes it's more manageable like, just wanting to have sex. looking out for himself when he can & how he can lol

speaking of, some vague sexy hcs

gets pegged

especial fan of Tongue Against Tongue texture, enjoys some Grounding elements to avoid being overwhelmed / narrow things to the more relevant sensory input at hand, like the weight/pressure of a partner leaning / lying against him / holding him tightly, if he's overwhelmed in a good way / kinda got some sensory overflow in a good way he might cry during sex In A Good Way lol, took some time maybe in his Personal Sexual Experience to figure out some general differences in "what he doesn't like at all" or "what's off the table / too unpleasant for him at some times but Not necessarily at all times & might be completely enjoyable sometimes," like, am i willing to perform oral sex, am i willing & Enthusiastically so, is that way too much actually, it can be all of them at varying times....maybe in more everyday general situations he refrains from stims in front of others unless stressed enough, but while having sex with someone especially if at all nervous it's like, there can be this transition between repressing stims & being more unfiltered / uninhibited where they kind of build up & then come through in kicks only to be reined back in, either like, he simply does go for a more reined in approach the whole time or anyone else is willing to ride this out with him / he kind of has the time & space to figure out more of a flow, in which case he might still stim but you know, not as though people aren't used to stims in this situation, i.e. reacting to stimulation with movement & vocalization is at least expected & it could once again be like "well he's a bit weird with it but hey" lol or you know, not that some partners can't be understanding or have had experience w/similar partners. hardly make or break but this can be a vulnerable interaction here / hard to shake the self consciousness & sense of "i Do have to filter myself and act The Right Way" all at once just b/c you'd want to

hey and let him sing karaoke or something lmao, winston is as Dramatic as he is, he would give a performance. work in a way to let everyone who sings sing around lol, could throw in some Affectations so that it's like yeah winston can sing without having to be like "wow winston, when'd you become a trained broadway performer" lmao. imagine. which reminds me of the time will joked about like, oh yeah winston Gets That A Lot re: people recognizing he looks like the guy in deh, aka will roland....the limitations of "this is set in real nyc" including occasional references to recent / popular shows, fuck it maybe will roland does also exist in the billions universe. well anyways it would be fun. the karaoke anyways, and that he'd give a top tier Performance whether or not people are first and foremost enjoying his technical / artistic skill at the art of singing, it'd at least be personality infused and engaging

taking it way back to the ideas about winston's social misadventures in general, i'm sometimes considering for fics i never end up writing if he might have some like, misgivings / anxieties about like, is this person i Like acting like they maybe Like me back as some kind of elaborate joke, & maybe the caution comes from experience like you know, classic over the line "pranks" like asked out As A Joke, kissed As A Dare that he wasn't aware of, think there could be like, would be Friendship / friendly acquaintanceship experiences in there where such "pranks" / "jokes" / "messing with him" (and not in a good way) could happen, or even just you know, more Spontaneously, don't even know this person & he's treated as a joke for other ppl's entertainment, realizing at the time or retrospectively like oh maybe i was more being bullied then having any positive social interaction / getting to feel at least "included" or what have you, like, the idea of getting to hang out with a group as The Funny Guy, but he's had these experiences getting to hang out with a group & realize it's b/c they thought he was funny / Amusing in a laughing At him, not with him way, which is easy also b/c winston isn't really out here trying to be funny that we've seen lol. only realizing he was still being excluded after some time / distance from the situation, or escalating open hostility / just more blatant meanness / over the line shit from some people, maybe some stuff that just immediately feels shitty but he figured was just like, well idk, maybe that's normal & still friendly, maybe it also felt more outright embarrassing / demeaning at the time but it's like haha yeah you got me :'] at the time just to save any face lol.....possible unexpected / spontaneous amicability in his socializing history, but also shittiness, whether it's coming at him all at once or he's kind of holding out hope like, well, i just keep at it / have a Friendly attitude here and surely i'll make friends b/c if people didn't like me At All why are they talking to me / letting me be here at all.....

always kind of pondering Fashion Variation, we haven't seen it but it could be possible, musing on "what would he think Looks Good On Him / how does he feel capable of like, dressing for romantic success or what have you lol" like, was the vivid 5x06 outfit anything, cue the drawing like, a bralette & short shorts is shaking it up and could be a Felt Cute outfit and could also be comfortable enough....not always That much room in men's(tm) fashion before you start having to be aware of [Gender] and dunno that winston out here has had the inspiration / motivation / opportunity to consider / try out / explore but hey. what are we here for

just remembered that post like "uhh i just saw a guy crying in the library & then his phone alarm went off & he stopped crying, opened his laptop & started typing / it's called time management" lmao like winston's not out here having the Most amazing time, he could have such Time Management experiences of like, letting it out some on purpose but then reining it right back in, and/or just like some spontaneous paroxysms of crying for a minute or two more unexpectedly in a "do you ever [experience a tiny inconvenience] & realize the thread by which you're hanging on is quite thin" way or otherwise, you know, oops experienced this frustration & now i'm crying over it, or idk, just feeling a bit more vulnerable for whatever reason & something has unexpectedly plucked some emotional string attached to another string attached to another & the resonance = i'm crying now ig. he can't be Thriving out here & i don't think he's all about having such a stranglehold on emotions that he's like oh tf i Never cry (aside from having sex, in a good way)

although speaking of like, emotional repression, maybe he's out here just "good at" compartmentalizing some experiences lol in that "well anyways, back to work" way & stuff like, sure he knew he was risking it in 4x11 but it also did not seem to affect his dynamic with mafee at all lmao like wow.....

think that him not really having anything on his work desk is a choice / preference but also am not sure that that really applies to anything else lmao. what if he had a little plant. that'd be funny

oh yeah and the idea that winston might literally have like prophetic dreams & they're just kind of a nuisance to him but sometimes they can be plot devices in fics (that don't exist) about him kissing people

well i'm just calling it a night there lol but like, it always feels Lacking writing out hc's like, plenty of ideas but also hardly any, and yet the fact that other individual ideas are so Vague / casual that it wouldn't be like "oh i gotta share this via post or manifesting it some other way" so then it feels like, oh no, if i don't list absolutely Everything on something that's specifically a list of hc's, i can never talk about whatever gets left out......and just that like, i ought to have a bunch of really specific, concrete, unique Factoids about winston here to be of any interest but hey lmao. that hypothetical set of concepts is never gonna happen, & the Ultimate Comprehensive List Of Everything I've Ever Pondered Re: Winston is also going to be difficult lmfao (not as though that's what you've asked in the first place) but you know, we took a swing at things here & covered some ground & the thinking about & talking about winston never ends, & this isn't really a post meant to have broad appeal / if you're not already having fun reading vague musings about the quant then i'm sorry you're reading this after having read all that and gone "wow, i'm disappointed" lmao but hey, weird choices made to bring you to this point......also god knows plenty of hcs are more filed away under specific like [Tayston], [Benston], [Riawin] sort of things (lol, [Mafon]) b/c on the one hand, i find it easier to kind of think in Scenarios and the details particular to the "scenes" therein, but i am also not good at thinking of those scenarios! out here operating on vibes, he's autistic and wants to kiss taylor (also now rian but that's kinda right in canon, not just my head) and that's really the crucial info here

#winston billions #nothingunrealistic #posting these things at 7am lol just had to give this a shot all at once really #there was never going to be a concise & comprehensive post here so just gotta go for it #certainly vs trying to think up that beautiful engaging collection of concrete hc's & thus never writing Anything lol #and anyways it's also like; this is a niche post for an even nicher audience so #quantnoisseur is about having fun and being yourself. for me #thanks again for returning the favor!! do love the opportunity here #again hope i don't like recall three dozen obvious things i should've included once i post this but

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dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years

Text

Sinners & Saints-Chapter 13

A special thank you to @statell for your help and wisdom

Previous chapters on AO3

Chapter Thirteen (nsfw)

In Washington DC, Hesser’s second in command watched the crime scene, grinding his teeth. The forensic team worked quickly to finish before dawn to keep a lid on this. They had not prepared for a tourist with insomnia who wandered the streets of the Capitol taking pictures with his phone. A week later the man and his family were back home in Flint Michigan where it would take another several days for him to review the shots of their vacation.

The pictures were sent to the Washington Post where they were forwarded to the CIA without printing them. They were also sent to a popular political vlogger who devoted a ten-minute stream showing the pictures and sharing his guesses like they were facts.

An unmarked van pulled up to the tourist’s home in Michigan and held the family at gunpoint while six other men removed every cell phone and computer in the house. They threatened the man within an inch of his life and piled all of their electronic devices into the van and drove away. The vlogger was spared the rough treatment but every platform he used on social media was closed and his content was deleted. Gab, YouTube, twitter, Instagram, and numerous boards, went black. One hour after he posted the pictures he was out of social media, lost his lively hood, and had absolutely no recourse.

Little Maia was a gossip junkie and that included the conspiracy channels that whipped her mind into a tornado of awful scenarios coming to the world. Darius teased her so badly about it she started watching her saved videos when she was alone. The Washington crime scene was in her downloaded videos which she watched some days later. When she mentioned a murder in Washington, supposedly at the CIA building, Jamie launched from his chair and pulled Maia out of her seat, almost dragging her upstairs. They all gathered in front of her laptop and watched the vlogger show pictures of a late-night crime scene.

“Jamie, do you think that’s Hesser?”

“I know it’s Hesser. Thank Christ."

“Does this mean we’re free?”

“Of Hesser, yes. He said no one in the government will know us, so we can hope.”

The days ahead were kind to the four of them. Jamaica’s perfect weather, great fishing with rods and spears, gorgeous water to swim, snorkel, and treasure hunt made the days speed by with nary a care. Jamie spent time in his studio each day and occasionally all night. There was still an aggressive edge to the way he made love and Claire tried to be patient until he wanted to talk about it.

After spearfishing with Darius one afternoon, Jamie asked if he would come with him to the island the next day.

“I can’t live with this thing in my arm anymore, it’s driving me crazy not knowing if they will be coming for us. Nor can I forget your warning the ping might be keeping us alive. I have to do something.” Jamie looked around at the beautiful surroundings and then focused on Darius. “I’m going back to the doctor to have it removed tomorrow. I want you there, just in case.”

“In case you die, is that what you mean? Before you take the ultimate risk, maybe look for an expert in this technology or super-spy stuff that you can talk to.”

“I’ve already done that and learned even more that terrifies me. Apparently, it takes a fair amount of energy to be an RFID and even more for the sonar pulses. The battery will go dead at some point and the pinging will stop. We have no way to know how long the battery will last.”

“Same doctor?”

“Yes, I spoke to him yesterday, he said he would do it.”

“Claire knows?”

“No.”

“What kind of a partner does that?”

“One who loves the other more than anything in this universe Darius.”

Claire lowered the aft deck and sat with her legs in the water, deep in thought. Adso sat next to her waiting for something interesting to happen and then left to find a soft seat in the saloon. Claire hardly noticed. Jamie seemed distant the past week, spending nights in his studio, and days with Darius or hiding with his laptop. When she walked into the bedroom the previous day she saw him click off the website he was on and slam the lid down. He was hiding a secret, and with every woman and girl fawning over him on the island she wondered if she should be worried. She missed him and hoped she was wrong.

Later, in the evening, a time the four of them usually sat on the foredeck and played cards or watched a movie, Jamie was painting, Darius carried Maia upstairs, and Claire sat by herself and cried, contriving multiple scenarios of Jamie cheating. She wandered into her bed and fell asleep with her clothes on.

Jamie wanted to write a note to Claire, just in case he didn’t return from the island the next day. He knew they were well into a movie above deck so he took his time. He tried over and over again and the trash can filled with balled-up paper. When the words wouldn’t come he gave up trying and climbed the stairs to a dark and lonely saloon with no one in sight. He laid down behind his Sassenach, filled with sadness this might be the last time to hold her while she slept.

The next morning, Claire poured coffee into a mug and asked Maia where Jamie was. When she heard he and Darius had tendered to shore the tears came tumbling down her cheeks, leaving Maia speechless. Claire shared her suspicions that Jamie had hooked up with someone on the island and Maia’s eyes became slits of anger.

“So Darius is helping him? Or maybe she has a sister? Oh, hell no. We are going after them so get your suit on and bring something to wear into town.”

“Maia, we don’t even know where they are, we can’t start knocking down doors.”

“I know exactly where Darius is every minute of the day.” She held her phone up and punched one of her apps that opened to the streets of the island with a glowing red circle in the middle. “He is here. Let’s go.”

Maia tied her flipflops and waterproof canister to her waist and Claire did the same. From their mooring, the island looked very close but as they swam toward it Claire was getting tired. Maia looked around and waved at a tender with a big smile and let’s-party eyes. Soon after, they were helped onboard by two very hopeful young men. She dismissed them on shore with a kiss on the cheek and pointed to someone else’s yacht while blowing kisses. Claire looked at Maia’s phone over her shoulder. They headed in the direction of the red circle.

“This can’t be right Maia, it’s the doctor’s office we visited before.”

“There is no mistake, Claire, at least Darius’s phone is in there.”

The doctor had closed his office while he performed the extraction, just in case. He heard pounding on the front door and motioned for his nurse to check on the commotion. She glanced at the monitor behind the front desk and recognized the woman who sneered at her the previous week. Quickly she unbuttoned the top of her nurse's uniform and pulled it open so her push-up bra could display her ample bosom, then she tossed her hair pulling stray pieces of her updo into her face. She grabbed a nail file from the pencil holder and rubbed it savagely against her lips making them puffy and red.

Maia pounded on the door again and both women gasped when the nurse pulled the door open five inches, enough to see her bouncing breasts and disheveled look. She was panting and whispering she was at lunch and they had to go away.

Claire looked at the hair in the nurse's face, her breasts pouring out of her loosened uniform, and her lips that looked ravaged. It was the same nurse that waited by the door to watch Jamie leave. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she turned around and walked away while Maia was arguing with the nurse. She was almost to the water’s edge when Maia grabbed her arm.

“Have you condemned Jamie already?”

“What else would he be doing there during their lunch. Do you know how to drive that thing?”

“Yes, I’ll get you home.”

The nurse put herself back together before taking her seat next to the doctor. She looked at Jamie’s beautiful face, relaxed from a shot of Valium, and watched him strip her in her mind.

“Nurse!”

She jerked out of her daydream and held the instrument tray for the doctor. He teased the tissue back exposing the RFID chip and locked the forceps on it.

“Mister Smith, do you want me to pull it out?”

Jamie turned his head from the window and said yes, then he smiled like he had not a thing to worry about.

“Wait just a minute.” Darius sounded angry and closed his hand on the doctor’s arm. “He is high as a kite and you’re asking him if he’s ready to die?”

Jamie looked at Darius and his eyes cleared suddenly. He recited the navigational terms he learned and named the doors on the yacht that closed with a watertight seal in case they were sinking. He looked at Darius, “I love my wife more than my next breath and this will save her.”

Darius released the doctor’s arm and watched him pull the chip out of Jamie’s arm. They waited, silently, while the tension crushed them. One minute, nothing happened, two minutes, then three. Sweat rolled down the doctor’s temple as he pumped up the blood pressure cuff on Jamie’s arm and then pressed a stethoscope to his chest. He repeated the procedure at five minutes, ten, and then fifteen minutes while Jamie dozed from the Valium. He pulled his equipment away and slumped in his stool.

“I do not know if there is some kind of poison in the second object, but if it was strong enough to kill him, he would have a reaction already. I am too old for this. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and started suturing the incision.

Darius smiled and handed the doctor five one-hundred-dollar bills before helping Jamie stand up and walk toward the door. They both watched the sky as they walked to the beach and half expected black SUV’s to come screeching around a corner, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

When Jamie saw the ocean in front of them his smile was huge. It felt foreign to him and he realized there hadn’t been much smiling for the past week. It was time to make up for all of that. If he didn’t drop dead in the next twelve hours they were completely free…and rich…and in love.

There was a strange vibe in the saloon that was uncharacteristically quiet. They both felt it and went in separate directions to find the girls.

Claire was breathing hard from the heavy suitcases she carried from the closet. She looked up at Jamie and jumped back, pushing the hair out of her face. He could see she was completely undone and wondered what had happened.

“What’s this then?”

“I think I got all of it. There was more than I thought so I gave you my new suitcases.”

Her voice was so quiet he could barely hear her, so he got closer and she backed away.

“Thank you, love, that was a lot of work, and very generous to give me your cases. What am I to do with them now?”

Jamie took another step toward her, and another until she was pressed against the wall, still looking at her feet. Something huge had happened to Claire and it was not based in truth so he acted authentically until she found the strength to tell him.

��Do you love her?” It was no more than a whisper.

He was standing toe to toe with her, looking down on the top of her head, there was no room for Jesus between them.

“Oh yes, more than the air that fills my lungs,” he whispered. “I am fascinated by her mind, and soft coiled curls, not to mention her body that steals my soul. He ran his fingertips up her thigh as she shook with the confusing arousal caused by his touch. He pulled her chin up so she was forced to look at him. “Mostly, I love her whisky eyes because I see all of my tomorrows in them.”

Claire was under his spell so he brought his mouth down on hers and tasted her fear, her love, and her growing passion. He studied her eyes and her confusion. Clearly she doubted his love for her and that hurt her deeply.

“I would give my life for her,” he whispered, “and I did, today.”

Jamie’s large warm hand covered her globes before inching up her back. She was fighting her need to touch and claim him so he continued his soft touch that came closer to her heat making her exhale into his chest. There were noises upstairs, shattering glass, and tumbling furniture that threatened to break the spell so he kissed the sounds from her mind and let his tongue dance with hers. He moved with her toward the bed, like a dance that she followed. He grimaced when he laid down and quickly moved to her other side so his good arm could support his head.

Claire was in a love stupor and she asked why his arm hurt. Her eyes were foggy with lust and pain from her broken heart. Jamie pushed the hair behind her ear and studied the tragedy on her face wanting to carry her away to a world without threat or danger to erode her faith in him. He dragged his fingertips up her thigh and under her sundress. His warm hand covered her abdomen from side to side and moved slowly toward her breasts.

“Unbutton my shirt love, help me out of it.”

When Claire pushed the shirt off his shoulders she looked at the bandage that circled his arm and he could see her confusion.

“Like I said, she is my everything, her love is so honest and sweet, how could I not give my life for hers.” He kissed her deeply and she could feel his need. In her tortured mind she decided something was interpreted wrong and she opened herself up to his body as he covered her. She felt drunk from relief and gave herself over to his unrelenting soft hand and his power between her legs. The remaining clothes fell away and he pushed into her while he kissed her face, neck, breasts, and mouth. It was a soft, slow build of passion while their eyes affirmed what was in their hearts.

When they came back to earth, Claire held him tightly and buried her face in his neck. He could feel her slight puffs of air as she fell asleep. He held her and let himself truly rest for the first time in days.

Claire’s eyes opened and her stomach growled from the smell of food. Jamie watched her mind clear and then she looked around and gripped his arm. She expected to wake up alone, that was obvious, and he felt shame for leaving their bed so many nights. She smiled at him and he pulled her close. `

“I plan to have a bit of fun loving you back to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“We are truly free Sassenach. It’s over, forever. I know you’re confused and I am so sorry about that. I smell lobster, your favorite. How about a nice dinner while Darius and I clear things up.”

Jamie and Darius went into battle with an invisible foe and won the day. Claire and Maia were brought to their knees but rescued by love in the end. Their story came out over a delicious meal that provided enough distraction to soften the shock of what had transpired.

“We realized a new threat with removing the chip. Maybe it would cause the second object to release something deadly.”

“I found experts online who were more concerned with the battery dying because sonar takes so much power.

“I thought he was nuts to take the risk but he was determined, with or without me.”

“It looked so obvious she had been kissed senseless and her boobs were overflowing her uniform.”

“I grabbed the doctor’s arm before he could pull the chip out. I didn’t think Jamie was capable of giving him the go-ahead. Then he listed the navigation definitions and watertight doors on the yacht and I knew he was clear-headed.”

“I took Claire back in the tender, then returned it and swam back to the boat. If I hadn’t been so pissed at you Darius I never would have made it.”

“I thought you went to her and she did nothing to change my mind, that fluzzy. Coming to the door with her hair in her face and puffy lips.”

"So all those nights and closed doors with your laptop was researching the chip?

"I was looking for proof they could not kill a person with it and found just the opposite. The CIA has studied mind control and building the perfect soldier for forty years. A chip that costs ten cents to make solved both problems."

"So you had it removed, why?"

"So you could turn yourself in and force them to remove it. You would be out in your early fifties and still have decades to live."

Jamie put his arm around Claire protectively. It was over, all of it. They had been on the run for so long and now they were free. Two people, complete strangers at first, had given so much to see them safe were now trusted friends. It was overwhelming.

“I suppose I’m next to get this thing cut out of my arm.”

Jamie kissed her neck, “right, tomorrow it’s your turn.”

”Well, I say we have drinks on the deck and enjoy the beautiful evening. By the way, Maia, will I need to order a new bedroom set?”

“Not all of it.”

The breeze touched her skin like a whisper, so soft and lovely. She dropped her head back on Jamie’s arm and sighed. Looking in his beautiful eyes she asked for a kiss and when his lips were millimeters from her she jumped at the sound of a boat horn.

They looked at the superyacht getting ready to drop anchor beside them with the crew running around on every deck. They almost missed the small woman waving to them.

“Hello, neighbors! I don’t want to intrude but might you come and bring me over so we could have a chat?”

Darius raised his eyebrows at Jamie who asked the woman if she was ready to come now, and they went to fetch her.

“I like people who are straight forward, I suck at subtleties. Sut-el-tees,” she said slowly, “is that the right word?”

“Yes, although depending on the person hearing it, you might want to skip the suck part.”

Claire never realized how little Maia actually spoke because she had grand gestures that made it clear what she was thinking. A bit of encouragement and she was trying out her growing English vocabulary regularly. They went to meet their guest while Maia practiced the word under her breath.

Claire held her breath while Jamie and Darius helped the elderly woman on board and then led her into the saloon and offered her a seat.

“This lovely saloon is entirely comfortable for a chat but weren’t you all sitting outside before I butted in?”

“Of course, let’s sit on the deck and get to know each other.”

The woman seemed so happy to meet new people and sat with a warm smile on her face. “I believe you were drinking, is that right?”

“What can I get for you?”

She looked Jamie up and down, “You in fifty years perhaps, for now, I’ll have beer if you have it.”

Jamie smiled at her, “we never run out of beer.”

The woman looked around at the young faces and healthy smiles, “my name is Sepora. My mother insisted and my father could not pronounce it so he called me Danny and that is the name that stuck to me. It’s just me and my crew, sailing around the world, looking for something to do.”

“I’m Claire, this is Maia, Darius, and Jamie.”

The old woman watched Claire’s face when she said each name and knew Jamie to be loved like no other. He was a special man, she could see that and wanted to know more. But first, she turned toward Darius, “You are the captain, and you love your first mate.”

She touched Maia’s skin and smiled at her. “I see you at the United Nations, telling men what they have come to hear. You are desperately unhappy surrounded by concrete, bricks, and glass. The sea calls to you but you have left it behind. Don’t do it Maia dear, money won’t make you happy.”

Looking back at Darius she smiled disarmingly and told him to take the honest path and leave his family behind.

“When you doubt your path is the right one you have only to look at the picture. It is the real you, and honestly shows your strength.”

The four friends were stealing looks at each other, wondering who this crazy old woman was, but fascinated, hanging on her every word. They didn’t speak fearing they would miss something.

Darius did not believe in seeing the future but couldn’t help his curiosity about some picture. “Ma’am? What picture shows the real me?”

“It’s downstairs dear. Let it guide you toward your path.”

“Jesus,” Jamie whispered and moved from foot to foot.

Danny looked at Jamie, “the dusty old masters could not bend paint into emotion like you can Jamie dear. Paint your world authentically, from your heart, like, the conversation. The world will beat a path to your door.”

Jamie was entranced by her, “how could you…”

“The next one will see you remembered as one of the masters, you will belong to the ages, but the conversation will see you better.”

Jamie’s eyes bored into the woman’s, “How…how could you know my paintings?”

“It is time for me to go home. Could I trouble you boys for a ride back?”

Suddenly she looked pale and tired so Jamie and Darius helped her to the tender and took her back. Five of her crew were waiting on the aft deck to help her aboard. She nodded and smiled at them and then batted at their over-eager hands to assist her. She turned and looked into Jamie’s eyes as they waved, “she is still a mystery that thrills me.” He heard every word and felt the hair on his neck stand up.

Jamie and Darius were arguing when they joined the girls on deck. Darius was begging to see the painting of him and Jamie was saying his paintings were not shared with anyone. “How in God’s name did she know about those paintings Jamie, and what painting is called the conversation?”

Jamie turned a strange look on Claire as the old woman’s words came back. There was no denying she knew what she couldn’t possibly know and if her suggestions were a gift to each of them he had better get out of the way of the message.

“I’ll be back.”

Jamie invited them into the saloon where his paintings were propped up on chairs and couches. They walked through the huge room admiring his talent and use of color but mostly looking from one to another.

“Darius! Oh my God, it’s you. Oh my God,” she whispered and blinked her eyes to clear her vision.

He stared at the image of the man he aspired to be and felt a shiver go up his spine, “someday…I hope.”

From behind him, Jamie said, “I have a photographic memory, and that is the man on the bridge the morning of our wedding. You are him, my friend.”

“What a beautiful place, it’s how I see Scotland in my mind.”

It is Scotland indeed, my boyhood friends, Ian, Rupert, and Angus,” pointing to each of them when he said their names. “The painting is for Rupert, in a few years.”

In her mind, Claire heard boys laughing, twigs snapping, and screams of glee as they dropped from the rope into the ravine. It was rare when a painting pulled her to another place where she felt the emotion of the scene. She looked up at Jamie with wonder and he pressed his forehead to hers for a moment.

There were a dozen more canvases in some stage of completion and all were commented on. Darius was trying to remember all that Danny said.

“Where is The Conversation?”

Jamie blushed and looked at the floor shaking his head side to side. “It is private and it is in our bedroom Claire if you want to see it.”

Claire looked up at him and took his hand, leading him into their room where she gasped and stood rooted to the ground. She was stunned by the life-like tones of her skin, the clear eyes of Adso watching her like he was listening to something profound. Claire was painted naked, laying on her side in their bed. Her one finger was under Adso’s chin so he would listen. Her naked breasts looked lifelike as did her ample butt and flat stomach. Her black coils spilled across her shoulders and down her back and her mouth was open in conversation with the kitten. Adso’s body was stretched out but his eyes were fixed on hers. There were so many emotions conveyed in the picture. Sweet, parental, sleepy beauty, enticingly sexual. Claire’s chiseled features were perfectly painted, full lips, loving eyes, playfully serious. The colors were muted giving the viewer an almost voyeuristic experience.

“My God, Jamie, have I ever looked like that?”

“Every morning love,” he breathed in her ear.

“I keep feeling different things, happiness, love, teaching Adso how to be a good cat, our bed in the morning awe, sexual energy, Adso’s worship. It’s absolutely marvelous Jamie but if we don’t let them see it, I fear they will search for it every time we leave.”

“It is your beautiful body mo chridhe, do you mind them seeing it?”

“I don’t mind, besides, the cute energy between me and Adso is predominant, they won’t even notice.”

Jamie got control of his spontaneous laugh and looked at his wife, as you wish Sassenach.

Claire walked Darius and Maia into their room and apologized for being in her birthday suit. Not a word was spoken from the mouths that hung open. Jamie watched their eyes move around on the canvas, delighted in the exchange between adorable cat and owner being the central focus.

Jamie dropped a sheet over the canvas and blushed at the comments. When they walked out on the deck Maia had grown quiet and pensive. When Darius asked about the new painting she tried to act interested and push down her hurt feelings because she was the only one he didn’t paint.

“What is the subject of your new painting Jamie? She said it would make you famous as a master painter, so what is it?”

Maia stared at her toes, trying not to cry when she heard, “it’s Maia.” She jerked her head up and her heart jumped to her throat.

When Jamie heard Danny comment about how famous it would become, he closed his mind to her abilities to see the future. It was just sweet Maia being iconic and would never be a promoter of his talent. He kept that to himself because the others were having so much fun with the predictions.

“Bring it up! Let us see,” Darius was about to bust with his desire to see the painting. Jamie was worried Maia would be offended after the seriousness of the other paintings.

“Maia, last month I walked into the galley when you were baking, remember?”

Maia was smiling and shaking her head no.

“Come with me and I’ll let you decide.” She followed Jamie into his studio and watched the covered canvas with anticipation as Jamie exposed the picture. She didn’t smile, or bounce around, nor did she make a sound as her eyes flicked all over the canvas.

The painting was life-sized showing Maia from the waist up leaning forward to exert force on the rolling pin over dough. Her face looked like beautiful determination punctuated by the tip of her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth. Her bikini could be seen under her white shirt and her long ponytail had slipped to the front of her shoulder and was covered with white floor. Adso was in the foreground shaking flour off of his fur. “Morning” was painted in a lower corner.

“Oh Maia, you sweet baby girl.”

Darius pushed into the studio and wrapped his arms around Maia while he studied the picture.

“I walked into the galley, early in the morning, and this is what I saw. It was cuteness overload when Adso shook flour all over her. It’s a very intimate picture Maia, I hope you like it when it’s done.” She turned her happy face to him and Jamie was relieved.

Darius looked at every line and shadow in the painting feeling weird about her floppy white shirt exposing part of her bikini-clad chest. One nipple pushed against the fabric and Darius smiled to himself. Maia’s nipples didn’t look like that, they were much bigger, so it was creative-license and not Jamie memorizing his girlfriend’s breast. He turned a knowing smile on his friend.

Jamie felt self-conscious with all the attention and covered the canvas before ushering everyone out. The evening had been extraordinary and the day, a roller coaster of highs and lows that suddenly felt exhausting.

Jamie slid into bed and turned the last light off before pulling Claire to him. He thought about all the crazy things that happened since morning and felt overwhelmed. He cuddled with Claire.

“Life is a journey Sassenach and there are no absolutes except one…me.”

He pulled her close and felt her let go of her conscious world. He would ride the night next to her, a happy occupant of that sacred position.

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #422

“i will not become a figure of my mistakes / i will not become the mask that is not my face”

Have you ever been told you were a good writer? I've been told that's one of my "gifts." What do you put on your baked potatoes? Butter, American cheese, and bacon bits. Gooood shit. What are you listening to? I'm re-watching Gab Smolders play Parasite Eve. Love that game to bits, and I really enjoy how she has a legitimate appreciation for it despite its age. It's so great watching her fall in love with a game she knew nothing about. Did you ever have braces? Yes. Are you afraid of flying? I acknowledge the risks of it, but I don't really actively fear it. Are you short? No; I'm your average height for an American woman of my age. Have you ever used a fire extinguisher? No. Would you want your future children to date someone like you as a teenager? I was a fine teenager, so sure. Are you unhappy at the moment? That's quite the understatement. When’s the last time you got in trouble with your parents? *shrug* How many children do you want? None. It's funny though, I had a dream last night that I gave birth to a daughter I of course named Alessandra. Have you ever watched Keeping Up With The Kardashians? No. Do you have any career ideas in mind? I have no desire to talk about this right now. Do you have any gay friends? Yeah. Are you gay yourself? I'm bi. Are you doing anything this weekend? Of course I'm not. But that's a surprise to nobody. How many brothers do you have? One. Do you like Mexican food? Only very few things. What’s your best friend’s pet’s name(s)? Oh man. Some are family pets more than hers, but regardless, there's Buster, Beasley, Winter, Martha, Crowley, Little Dot, Jane Marie, Doris, Raisha, and a bunch of other fish. Did you go to work today? I don’t have a job. .-. How old are you? How old do you act? 25. I think mentally I'm capable of acting older, but as far as "being an adult" goes, taking care of mature responsibilities, I'm a child. What size shoe do you wear? I... haven't worn anything but flipflops in so long that I barely know. I want to say an 8? 7 1/2 depending on the shoe? Are there any spiders in your room right now? I dunno. What was your favorite class during your sophomore year of high school? Art, for sure. Who’s your favorite Disney character? Probably Dory. Are there any framed pictures of you in your house? With my sisters, yes. Do you wear bandanas in your hair? No. Have you ever been on a blind date? No, not interested. Do you need to shave? My legs look like a gorilla's. My armpits, slightly. I shave them every time I shower, so I'll shave them soon. Are you wearing makeup right now? No. I never do nowadays. Do you know anyone named Laura? Not off the top of my head. Do you have any exercise equipment in your home? A few things. How many living grandparents do you still have? None. What are your plans for the rest of the day? Nothing, really. I hope I read today, though. I haven't the past couple days and I refuse to totally lose my habit of it again. How many times have you been sick this year? None. What colour is your toothbrush? White. Do you have a favourite author? No. How long do you usually take in the shower? Barely even 10 minutes. I do nooot understand how some people take so long. Clean yourself, get out. Like I get it if you're shaving or doing "extra" stuff besides washing your hair and body, but generally, how???? Have you ever worked in an office? No, but as I prepare to job search again, that's what I'm aiming for, I guess. It sounds like something I (including my legs, given I'd be sitting) could possibly handle. But yeah, you need experience in absolutely everything nowadays to get any job, it seems. Have you ever stayed in a hotel without your parents or older relatives? Yes. Have you ever kissed anyone under the mistletoe? I actually don't think I have. What’s your go-to activity when you’re bored? Watch YouTube. Who was the last person you texted? The lady who works in my psychiatrist's office to verify my next appointment date. Do you see yourself married in the next five years? Probably not, really. How long does it take you to get ready to go out? Barely over five minutes, or less, depending on what I have to do. Do you own any clothes you wouldn’t wear in front of your mother? No. Have you changed much this year? I haven't changed at all. And that's not a good thing. Is there a girl that you truly hate? A corner of my mind says yes. Even though I have no right to. Do you have any candles in your room? No, but I do have a wax warmer. Have you ever had to dial 911 before? A couple times for Mom. What’s something in your past that you’ll always remember? I'm almost certain even dementia couldn't take away my memory of the breakup. Did you have a good birthday this year? Yeah, it was good. How many people have told you they were in love with you? Two. Do you find smoking unattractive? Yes. How slowly or quickly would you say you eat? I eat way too fast, but I literally can't figure out how to change it. I try to slow down, but it just... doesn't stick. It's so engrained in me as a habit. Do you remember how you felt on 9/11? I was too young to remember this. What do you think of people who always wear make-up? You go for it, you look great. What’s a smell that absolutely makes you gag? Severely decaying roadkill is very high on the list. Is there a smell that gives you headaches? Gasoline. What about one that reminds you of the past? Play-Doh, for one. Childhood things like that. Also like those really fruity lip glosses, etc. What’s your least favorite thing about summer? The fucking heat and humidity. What’s your least favorite thing about the holiday season? The knowledge I don't have the money to buy like anyone presents. Especially my niece and nephew. Mom helps me buy something for them, but still... I feel like such a bad aunt that I can't do it myself. Other than yourself, who knows you the best? Whoever reads these, probably, ha ha. Do you have any embarrassing qualities and, if so, what are they? I'm just awkward in general. What’s one complaint that you have about school? Common Core. It's awful. What do you do while you’re on campus but not in class? I would just go to the library and do stuff on my laptop. Do you know anyone who has Autism/Asperger’s syndrome? Yes. It's questionable that I myself may have high-functioning autism. Has anyone of the same sex ever hit on you? Yeah. Are you open to a same-sex relationship and why or why not? Yes, because I'm bisexual. Have you ever dressed like or worn clothing belonging to the opposite sex? I would wear Jason's pj pants sometimes. Have you ever found yourself to be ugly? I've always believed I'm ugly. Have you read the Twilight series and do you like it or dislike it? I never read the series or watched the movies. Have you been on any type of online messengers today? I've used Discord to message Sara. What is your state’s minimum wage? $7.25 an hour. Disgusting. Do you own a tablet of any kind? No. If you eat eggs, how do you eat them? I only enjoy scrambled eggs or omelettes. When you’re upset, do you vent to people or do you keep to yourself? Nowadays, I tend to keep it to myself or vent through surveys. Have you ever watched a meteor shower? No, but I would love to. Do you like Slim Jims? OH MY GOD YESSSSSSSSSS. I want one now. What’s your opinion on the color turquoise? I think it's very pretty. Have you ever been in a castle? Only the Disney World one. When you were little, did you ever play with Play-Doh? Of course! I loved doing that. Would you rather write a mystery or love story? Hm... probably a love story. Are you afraid of getting shots? Kind of. I just hate the feeling of the medicine being injected, and long needles puncturing skin makes me want to squirm a bit. Needles in general though, I'm not afraid of. Would you ever run away and get married with no notifications to your family? Uh, no. I'm close with my immediate family and would want them to know. Have you ever wanted to vlog? Noooo. My life is so very boring, not to mention I would feel WAY too awkward. Who was the last person who unexpectedly texted you? No one unexpectedly texts me. Have you ever voluntarily read the Bible? Some of it. Have you ever thought that your life was so bad you wanted to give up? Many times. Do thunder & storms scare you? Actually, since I started having recurring tornado nightmares, I started to sort of fear them again. What are two foods you think only taste good with whipped cream? I hate whipped cream. If you eat it, what is your favorite way to eat beef? Cheeseburgers. Are you insecure about your height? What made you think this way? No. Did your last significant other have a huge temper? No. Would you ever think about doing porn? NOOOOOOOOO, even if I was in good shape. Would you ever cheat on someone if they cheated on you? No. That's not going to fix anything. Do you like getting jewelry or do you not wear any? I don't mind it, but I don't really wear it. When you were in high school did you ever have bomb threats? Once or twice. He was a... troubled kid. Did/Do you get school cancellations because of snow? Oh yes. My area flips shit if there's even a risk of like an inch of snow. Who knows ALL of your secrets? Nobody. Do you eat dinner with your family every night? No. Have you ever thought about what it would be like to have a baby right now? No, not really. That would be fucking awful. There's no way I'd be able to raise it. Have you used Limewire before? Back in the day. Are you/Were you in a band? If so, what was your band name? No. Have you ever tried cocaine or heroin? No thanks. Do you own any shirts with a peace symbol on it? No. I'd wear one, though. Have you ever dyed your hair light auburn? No. Ever had ice cream dots? Dippin' Dots? Yes. Do you have your national flag hanging up anywhere outside your house? No. Would you ever go to Japan? I'd like to. Have you ever been in a choir? When I was a kid in Catholic school, yes. What did you eat for breakfast today? Honey Nut Cheerios. When is the next time you’ll be up on stage? Preferably never.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''disguise'' by motionless in white

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the-coffee-story · 4 years

Text

Coffee - Murder in Red Moon Motel

Chapter 14 - The Escape

Quentin glanced at his wristwatch. "Five minutes."

"Way too early to expect him back," Grace mumbled. "That kind of stuff needs time." She was - surprisingly - wearing black jeans and a simple wine red blazer. She'd had a feeling that a dress would be in the way tonight.

They were sitting in Grace's car, a black jeep that was polished like the president's shoes, and waiting for Evans' return from Red Moon Motel. For now everything looked calm. The oversized neon sign blinked. The road and gas station next to the motel were empty, save for a lonely deer that was investigating the trash cans.

"I didn't even know deer eat trash," Quentin mumbled. "I thought only raccoons do that."

"I could turn that into a metaphor for today's society, but I'm too tired." Grace yawned. "Hey man, there should be a bag of crisps under the driver's seat, mind passing it over?"

"Here you go."

"You want some?"

"How could I ever miss the chance for snacks?"

Grace had just put her feet on the dashboard and declared she'd take a nap when the front door slammed open and a figure in a green wool hat and flipflops raced out of the motel at a speed that would've made several marathon runners jealous.

"Wait, didn't we plan on a swift and quiet exit through the window?", Quentin asked.

Grace put her feet down and tied her shoelaces. "If my memory doesn't fail me we did."

The back door of the Jeep was opened. Evans tripped into the car and slammed the door before diving under the seat.

"Drive, drive, drive!", he yelled. "He's shooting!"

"What?!"

"Instead of sitting there with your mouth open like you're waiting in a petrol station bathroom stall, drive!", Grace thundered after throwing the motel a glance and seeing a man marching towards them with a whole ass rifle. "BE SMART YOU FUCKING LUKEWARM BOTTLE OF SODA!!"

"Fuck!", Evans screamed. "Just drive!"

A sudden gunshot tore the silence into pieces. Quentin gasped. The engine roared and the car made a jump.

"Quentin, have you ever even touched a car?!", Grace hissed.

"Well if you're such an expert, why don't you drive?!", he snapped.

"Excellent idea, it's my car after all! Move your ass!" She climbed onto his seat while he was trying to move over. "Come on, I'm not gonna sit on your lap!"

Quentin finally managed to get to the passenger seat.

"Hold on tight," Grace whispered and slammed the gas.

To say she was an amazing driver was an understatement. Grace was brilliant.

But also absolutely terrifying.

"Don't crash!", Evans screamed from the backseat when she chased the truck through a small forest.

"Well, seatbelt!!!"

"So I get shot and die?!"

"That guy's far enough behind, you're not getting shot now!"

The rearview mirror exploded in a gunshot.

"Okay, you know what, stay right where you are," Grace corrected herself. "I'm gonna kill this fucker for what he just did to my poor car."

"Grace, don't do anything stupid-", Quentin tried to stop her, but she had already swerved around with a 180 degree turn.

Grace was racing towards the man at full speed. Quentin in the passenger seat was white as a ghost and sweating. "GRACE, HOLY SHIT, YOU CAN'T JUST-"

"What's going on, I can't see shit!", Evans yelled from the back.

"GRACE YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HIM!", Quentin screamed.

The man didn't seem to realize that a car with the power to turn him into rifle-wielding marmalade was coming towards him at alarming speed, at least he didn't make any attempt to get off the road. Quentin was very seriously considering just ripping the wheel out of Grace's hands, but one, he wasn't sure whether that wouldn't just send them all straight to their graves and two, something in his guts told him not to.

And then, when the rifle-wielding idiot was about to die a horrible and brutal death and Quentin finally saw naked terror in his watery blue eyes, Grace suddenly swerved around. The Jeep gave the man a push, not strong enough to seriously injure him but enough to push him to the ground and catapult his rifle into the ditch. Quentin sank into his seat and took a deep breath. He realized that sweat was dripping into his eyes and wiped it off his brows.

"You really think I'd ever kill someone?", Grace quietly asked. Her tone was exceptionally soft, almost hurt.

"I-"

"That was a rhetorical question, don't answer that." She laughed and slowed down until they were at average speed.

"I'm sorry." Quentin hesitated. "Did I...did I hurt you?"

Grace blinked. "No." She glanced at Quentin. "I'm sorry...I scared you, didn't I? I... I didn't mean to, I guess I just got carried away-"

He waved it off. "I'm fine."

Evans crawled out from under the backseat. "So, is that it? We've escaped?"

Grace nodded. "Absolutely."

"Woo. We're all alive. Fantastic." Evans gave a thumbs up.

Grace turned to Quentin and raised her hand. "High fiveohhhh fuck sorry!" She blushed.

Quentin laughed and high fived her. "Consider this a high four."

He turned back to Evans. "But now I'm curious. What happened? What did you see?"

Evans groaned. "Oh God. That shit was Tobe Hooper level. I didn't think anyone would watch the camera! God dammit!"

"Did you find any proof that he was killed?", Grace asked.

"I did...!"

"So, uh....where is it?" Quentin blinked.

"Back in the hotel." Evans sounded tired.

"Wh-why didn't you take it with you?", Grace asked.

"It's the floor," Evans explained.

"Hm???"

"Denny wrote his killer's name on the floor in blood. And then someone moved the carpet so it wouldn't be seen."

Quentin's eyes widened. "That's... that's amazing!!"

"So what's the name?", Grace asked.

Evans took a deep breath.

"Carlton," he said.

#reviews are welcome ;)#remember to listen to the song #the coffee story #murder in red moon motel

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dr-gloom · 5 years

Text

A Post About Top Surgery From Someone Who’s Currently Recovering

Yo! I’m gonna make a Trans Survival Guide sometime soon but until then I’ve had some stuff on my mind I wanted to get out here for anyone thinking about/waiting for top surgery. I’ll try to keep it reader-friendly cause i totally understand how hard it can be to read large blocks of text

So, here we go.

Pre-Op

You’ll be asked to not drink or smoke for anywhere from a month to 2 weeks prior to surgery, depending on your surgeon’s preference.

They ask that you only use Tylenol if you need to take pain meds as ibuprofen is a blood thinner and can lead to surgical complications.

If you take vitamins or supplements of any kind, get it cleared with your surgeon or stop taking them as well.

You are absolutely allowed to ask a surgeon how many surgeries they’ve done, their success-to-revision rate, their style if they haven’t already told you, and anything else.

You won’t offend them, and even if you do, making sure you’re going with the surgery you want is waaaay more important. Put your health and your chest above their feelings.

You’re also allowed to meet up with other surgeons to make sure you’re making the best choice. Consider this “shopping”. Just because you met a surgeon, doesn’t mean you have to go with them.

The Surgery

The specific details may vary, but from my own experience, this is how it goes.

You’re given a time to check in, then you’re called in from the waiting room to go into Pre-Op.

For me, this meant chillin for a couple hours under a heated blanket, IV in my arm and heart monitor on my finger.

Until you’re taken into surgery, a lot of nothing happens, and the everything happens. You meet your surgeon so he can draw on you. You meet the anesthesiology team and presiding nurses etc.

You can absolutely ask them any question you have, express any anxiety, no judgement. The more vocal you are, the more they can help you and by extension themselves.

I told the anesthesiologist I’d never had surgery before so I was stressed about going under, and they put something in my IV to help me relax before I was wheeled into the OR. Then they put the mask thing over my mouth and I was out.

You’ll be chillin naked under a hospital gown for a while lol. After you wake up, if it’s an outpatient procedure, they’ll keep you until they’re sure you’re stable - oriented, no vomiting, etc - before wheeling you out to go home.

You’ll feel kind of slow, very tired, maybe loopy, and of course whatever you tend to feel from anesthesia. For anyone who’s never had surgery, affects range from nausea to coldness to sleepiness to Total Crap.

Incisions and Types of Surgery

There are of course the two main distinctions most people know: key-hole and double incision. What many don’t know is there are vast differences in surgeons’ styles when it comes to these. I’ve seen double incisions shaped like

smiles

a straight line across the chest

two straight lines

two slightly curved lines

incisions that meet in the middle (as mine did, but only to avoid “dog ears”)

incisions that follow the pectoral muscle

This doesn’t even include botched stitching

If you can, ask to see pictures. They may or may not be allowed to show you; if they have a prior patient’s permission, they can.

Just to cover my bases: key-hole is a small incision made near the nipple which can only really be done for those with small breasts (A cups or smaller ((apparently there are smaller ones???))).

I still recommend double incision, because you have better results and are less likely to have excess skin. The only drawback is the scarring but I believe it’s worth it.

Pain and Pain Management

Typically, from my understanding, top surgeries are outpatient surgeries if you have to travel to get to your surgeon.

This is cause they want you numb while you’re travelling back home.

Of course, I’m speaking as someone from Sacramento who had to travel to San Francisco to see a top surgeon so of course you should check with your surgeon about these specifics.

You’ll get prescription meds. If you stay within the guidelines set for you on the dosage label, you won’t get addicted, so don’t put yourself through pain just cause you’re scared of addiction, trust me.

It is completely possible and probable for you to swell if you don’t have drains.

Your chest will feel swollen, maybe spongey ((BUT STOP TOUCHING IT)) and that’s normal.

If the skin feels heated, you get a fever, you have a hard time breathing, it’s tender to the touch (more than it should be), or makes liquid sounds, CALL YOUR SURGEON/RN.

For me, it was like this:

The first day wasn’t too bad, neither was the second day. The third and fourth hurt the worst, but the pain you feel after the first check-up is different and worse.

You get the gauze taken off your nipples, whatever compression device they have you use is taken off for the first time and you’re moving skin for the first time in at least a week. It hurts.

It goes from “bad bruise” pain to “oh shit my chest was cut” pain. If you’ve got a little meat on your bones and your skin tends to fold a little, that can cause irritation too. It sucks.

After about Week 2, you can switch from prescription meds to Tylenol, but not Ibuprofen just to be safe.

Surgery Aftercare

Range of Motion:

They’ll tell you not to raise your hands above your head.

They’ll say no heavy lifting or working out.

You absolutely cannot use your arms to sit up.

You should not go your full reach without doctor approval.

Try to avoid reaching out to the side or behind you.

Bending over is also something you wanna avoid cause as your midsection bunches up it can rub/crease your incisions and that hurts.

Ideal Outfit/Clothes:

Honestly if you can avoid wearing anything but underwear and the compression garment, go for it.

If you can’t, button-ups or tank tops with big arm holes are your best friend.

For the first few days at least have someone else help you dress.

I’d suggest loose, non-button/zipper pants such as sweats or gym shorts.

No shoes with laces/velcro since you can’t bend over - sandals/flipflops are best.

Medications:

As mentioned earlier, you’ll be given prescription pain meds. Take them as prescribed and you’ll be fine.

If you feel any of the negative side effects like hives or fever or nausea, absolutely stop taking them and contact your doctor.

You’ll also likely be given antibiotics to prevent infection. Take ALL OF THEM, as prescribed.

Depending on how you react to anesthesia and who your surgeon is, you may also be given stool softener.

Bottom line: take ALL of your meds AS DIRECTED. These people know what they’re doing.

If you’re doing everything safe and nothing has set you back, typically you’re good to drive around 3 weeks after, workout lightly about 4 or 5 weeks after, and everything else about 6-8 weeks after.

*****This post was made from things I have learned and my own current experience. If I haven’t mentioned something it’s because I don’t know about it and I’d prefer you have to find information elsewhere than risk spreading false information******

#top surgery #trans #lgbt #medical #surgery #recovery #prep #management #PSA

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trashboatprince · 4 years

Note

For the fic requests, how about Sunbathing for the space pirates au? With one of the Henry x Linda couples, although which one is yours to choose

I’m gonna have to go with mine cause I don’t wanna write this prompt with Spottie or Dober’s, just in case they’re uncomfortable with it.

And considering Hugo and Lily... it’s not what you think lol As usual, Hugo (an half-alien human) and Lily (a water-based alien) are my Henry and Linda, Henry (human) is @thedobermutt‘s

“What... are you two doing?” Henry asked, stepping up to the two figures on the deck, laying on the tackiest beach towels that he’s ever laid eyes on.

Hugo and Lily were on them, or at least, he figured the one laying under a soaked towel (with a terrible tropical bird pattern from the Corion system’s third moon) was Lily. He knew the one next to her was Hugo, laying there, sprawled out, wearing a shirt that was even uglier in pattern than the towels and in shorts and flipflops. Where did he even get- never mind, never question where Hugo gets anything.

Hugo lifted up the set of shades he was wearing, over his eyepatch, Henry noted, and raised an eyebrow. “What’s it look like we’re doin’, cap’n? We’re sunbathin’.”

“Sunbathing.” Henry repeated. “Why?”

“Cause we’re anchored by this huge star to refuel the solar sails.” Lily replied from under the towel.

“And we’re taking advantage of getting some rays, ya know?” Hugo added on.

Henry blinked, shaking his head. “No, I mean... why are you sunbathing like... this? You’re wearing a shirt, Hugo, and Lily’s under a towel.”

The half-human snorted loudly, slipping his shades back down over his eye. “Simple! The star would boil Lily without something coverin’ her and I don’t like people looking at my exposed chest and back. I mean, why else would we be covered, yeah?”

Henry just looked at them and just took Hugo’s word for it, he was not going to question this, really, he knew to also never question Hugo’s weird antics for his own sanity.

I’m still taking requests

#bendy and the ink machine #batim #henry stein #linda stein #henry x linda #space pirate au #john's drabbles #rubinjuwel

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baepsaets · 5 years

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The Call

(a/n: thank you all for 4k, and happy birthday jk! to celebrate, here’s a oneshot i’ve had typed out for a bit but didn’t want to post just yet. i’m working on a collection of oneshots that will all loosely be connected, all of them frat!jungkook related. they are all stand-alone, although they exist in the same universe).

summary: the only time you take the obnoxious frat boy from your chemistry class seriously is when he calls to tell you your close friend is having a bad trip at a party.

warnings: drug use mention (but not jk or the reader - and yes, this drabble is inspired by a true story. party safe lovelies!), enemies to friends to lovers (but just the friends part in this fic) (although jk is jealous lmao)

Frat Drabble: 4.3k

Your bare feet pounded on concrete as you ran down the block, glancing at your phone to check the time. It had been three minutes since Jeon Jungkook had called you from your friend’s phone.

It was a Friday night, which meant you’d had a hot date with your couch and Netflix, enjoying the time you got the spend alone while your roommate went out. When your friend had called you half-past midnight while you were in the middle of your latest binge, you’d been surprised, but answered anyway. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Uh, (Y/N)?”

Your blood went sluggish. The voice on the other end of the phone was male, and definitely didn’t belong to your friend. “Who is this?”

“It’s Jungkook. From Chem 201?”

Jeon Jungkook. The current bane of your existence—or at least, the bane of your chemistry class. He was seated next to you, and with an assigned seating chart, there was no way to avoid him.

The two of you had admittedly started off on the wrong foot. He’d caught you in a bad mood, but then had matched that mood with his own. But it wasn’t your fault that he was completely intolerable. Just a stupid, smug frat guy. He was probably going to school on his dad’s paycheck and didn’t care about failing. He certainly didn’t care about passing, from what you’d seen of his test results before he’d shoved them into his cluttered backpack.

It had all happened because he’d sat in your seat. From then on, it was like the guy had developed a special grudge against you. And you, who was a good student—you, who had to work hard to maintain a scholarship. You—who was sarcastic and could come off as a little bitchy—yes, you—were all too willing to respond in kind.

First, it had been the man-spreading. Jeon Jungkook sat like he had the biggest elephant nuts of the century. He sat with one leg pressed against you, the other stretched out lax in front of him. It was the touching that bothered you. Jungkook created heat like a furnace, and you didn’t like being touching by people you didn’t know or like. So, you scrunched away from him, curling around the other armrest until your other seat neighbor glared at the both of you. Your row already had such limited space. It was a lecture hall, for God’s sake.

Not to mention all the women that flocked to his seat. You’d had to ask more than one girl to move after coming into class and finding them surrounding him, like he was God’s gift to women. As if. Sure, the guy was nice to look at, but he knew it, and his confidence bordered on an arrogance that made your blood boil. It only got worse when he watched you shoo them away—smirking, knowing it annoyed you. A type of smirk that said, “Don’t you wish you were them?”

No, you self-assured motherfucker. Quit looking at me like that.

Then, it had been the pen clicking—fuck, the pen clicking. Murder was imminent. By the second week, Jungkook had figured out that you hated pen clicking, so that’s exactly what he did.

After that came the Hydroflask Incident. Namely, Jungkook had spilled almost his entire hydroflask on your backpack. That was the worst one. All of your surrounding seatmates had gasped in horror and let you used their desks to air out your papers, which were almost soaked. Luckily, you hadn’t had any textbooks in your backpack at the time. Jungkook had apologized for that one, even looked a little guilty, but it didn’t matter—Jeon Jungkook was obviously the scum of the universe, and you would never accept any apology from him even if he begged you on his knees. He was trash, and that was that. You didn’t waste time on trash.

His face flashed in your mind—wide-eyed, soft-lipped. Why was he calling you from your friend’s phone? They weren’t hooking up, were they? The thought filled you with unexpected horror. “Where’s (Y/Fr/N)?”

There was a deep sigh. It really wasn’t fair that he sounded so good over the phone—everyone sounded ugly over the phone. It was the law! “Listen—she’s in pretty bad shape right now. She came to a party at my frat house and she ended up—maybe taking something?”

You sat up straight on the couch. (Y/Fr/N)? Yeah, she did some wild shit, but she’d never been a drug user. Hell, she’d tried pot back in high school and hadn’t even liked it.

“Taking something? Like what?”

“Uh—shrooms?”

You jaw dropped. Whatever Netflix show you’d been watching turned into static background noise. “What?”

“It was an accident! She was drunk and I think some guy offered her some, and she ate them without realizing it. I’ve got her cornered in my bedroom, but she’s having a really bad trip.”

That was all it took to get you scrambling to your feet. You were wearing a loose shirt and panties, but you tugged on a useless pair of sleep shorts while keeping the phone pressed to your ear with your shoulder.

“Do we need to call 911? Does she need a hospital—?”

“It’s not that bad—,”

“Not that bad? How do you know that? What if it was laced with something and she dies?”

This was so fucking typical. Jeon Jungkook, frat guy extraordinaire, not caring about a girl getting drugged in his own house. Why even call if he was going to act like it wasn’t a big deal?

“It’s not—,”

“This is your frat house, Jungkook! You’re responsible for what happens in it!”

“I fucking know that!” he finally snapped. You went silent in shock. “I know that, okay? We’re all freaking out right now and we already shut down the party! Jesus, Jimin broke that guy’s nose once we found out! I’m calling you because while I was looking through her phone to find someone to come help us, your name was the only one I recognized.”

You bit your lip, chastened. “What’s the address?”

“I’ll text it to you right now. Just—get here soon, okay? I’m afraid she’ll hurt herself.”

This was your worst nightmare, you realized. Something bad like this happening to someone you loved. You didn’t open up easy, so the people you did care about, you cared about hard.

“Has she thrown up?”

“I thought about making her, but I’ll be honest, I don’t know how to handle a situation like this. Alcohol and weed are the only stuff we allow on our property, so whoever this guy was, he snuck in.”

You slipped on your flipflops and dashed out the door. You were surprised to see Jungkook’s frat house was only several blocks away. Perfect, because you didn’t want to wait for an Uber, if you were even lucky enough to find one at this hour. You ran a hand through your hair and tried to shape it into something presentable. Had you showered today? No, you hadn’t. But that didn’t matter.

“Just—sit with her until I get there. Please.”

“I already have been,” he said, surprisingly gentle. “I got her some water and tried to get her to eat, but she wouldn’t take anything from me. She can’t recognize any of us, and she’s scared to death. That’s why I decided to call a friend in her phone. I don’t know anything about her family and didn’t want to immediately call the police and get us all busted. The guy swore up and down it was just shrooms before we kicked him out.”

“Maybe the police are what that guy deserves,” you huffed, pressing the button for the elevator. You lived on the seventh floor and planned to sprint the entire way there, so you might as well conserve your energy.

His silence was telling, until, “If she wants to contact the police after this, we’ll help her.”

Your jaw dropped. You knew damn well that half the people that went to his frat’s parties were underaged, drunk and maybe worse. Calling the police would get everyone in a lot of shit. Some of them might even get expelled, arrested.

Frankly, you had expected him to beg you not to let that happen. His easy compliance shocked you.

Along with his easy compliance, his compassion shocked you as well. He said he’d been trying to care for your friend before calling you, which was more than you expected from some random frat guy who didn’t know her from Eve. A surprisingly kind gesture, from someone who had only shown you distain.

“Well,” you grunted, after collecting yourself. “We’ll see what she says. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

You hung up without another word. The elevator was approaching the first floor, and when it opened, you sprinted out of the lobby and down the street, following the path Google Maps had given you.

You were completely out of breath by the time you found his frat. You’d lost your flipflops somewhere after the first block. It was an old, big house—almost mansion-like. Beer bottles and plastic cups were littered across the lawn, signs of a party ended too quickly. You bounded to the front door and knocked loudly.

No reply. You knocked again, longer. Nothing. You were ready to try the door handle when it turned, and the door was pulled back.

A hard-faced and intimidating boy opened the door an inch. He looked young, but still a little older than Jungkook. He stared at you in frustrated annoyance.

“We said the party’s over.”

“I’m (Y/Fr/N)’s friend,” you panted. “Jungkook called me.”

Immediately, the boy’s face morphed into one of relief. He swung open the door, and you realized he had bright blue hair. “Thank God. I’m sorry. I thought you were here for the party.”

Your lip curled in disgust at the though. “Well, I’m not. Excuse me.”

You shouldered him out of the way a bit, taking in the space. It was definitely a frat house. It smelled like an aging brewery. There were several other men in the room who openly stared at you. For a moment, you were embarrassed by your attire, but the moment passed quickly.

“Where’s Jungkook?” you asked the room. Several of them pointed to a staircase in the corner. “Thank you.”

You took the stairs two at a time before almost running into someone at the top. He must have been waiting for you. For the first time, the sight of Jeon Jungkook filled you with complete joy and relief. His face, in comparison, was more shocked and horrified.

“Jesus, (Y/N)—where are your shoes?”

“Where is she?”

“You’re barely dressed—,”

“Jungkook.”

He sighed, accepting defeat. “She’s in my room, this way.”

Jungkook led you down the dark and empty hallway until you came to a door. It had several posters hanging on it, but you didn’t know of what. He pressed his ear to the door for a moment to listen before finally opening it, sensing your worried impatience.

The light was off. You got a sense of a modest-sized space, painted a dark color. There was a desk with a wicked gaming center set up on it, a dresser, and—there, a bed. You could see a shapeless lump on it that turned into a person the harder you stared.

“Hey, (Y/Fr/N),” you said, soothingly. She was curled up in a ball at the foot of the bed, head buried in the blanket. You turned to Jungkook. “Could you give us some privacy?”

His face creased. “She might get violent.”

“That’s okay, I’ll be fine.”

Your friend looked up when she started to register your voice, and said, “(Y/N)!”

She scrambled off the bed and threw herself at you. Jungkook tensed, and moved almost as if to defend you, but all your friend did was collapse in your embrace and begin to sob. She blubbered something, but you couldn’t make out what she was saying. You were certain it had something to do with whatever hallucinations her bad trip was producing.

Jungkook looked at her guiltily. “Has she ever taken anything like this?”

“She’s smoked some weed, but nothing more serious.”

You led your friend to the bed and helped her lie down, still shaking and sobbing. You held her hand and she gripped you tightly, like she was afraid you would let go.

“It’s okay,” you reassured her, keeping your voice calm and steady without being too sappy. “I know it’s bad right now, but you’re safe. I’m here with you, and this will be over soon.”

You laid down until you were across from her, watching her rock back and forth. You used your thumb to wipe her wet face. “Jungkook—could you bring me some tissues?”

You didn’t look as he left, or when he came back. He handed you a roll of toilet paper.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s all we have.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him, voice still soft. You didn’t see it, but Jungkook’s gaze lingered on you, suddenly struck by your kindness. In class, you were often so cold and reserved. It was startling for him to see you so suddenly and painfully human.

He felt guilty for thinking that. He wasn’t going to lie and pretend he liked you, but he didn’t not like you, which you seemed to assume.

It was like you purposefully made yourself hard to get along with. Jungkook was an easygoing guy—maybe a little introverted, but friendly, at least. At first, he’d thought you were that way too. Until he very quickly realized you were just stuck-up and mean.

Well, that was harsh. You weren’t mean, and if you were, it was because he messed with you. To be honest, he couldn't actually pinpoint exactly why he liked doing that. Sometimes, it was just nice to get underneath your skin. To see your perfect composure crack, with just the clicking of his pen.

He just wished you didn’t look at him like he was a bug to be squished underneath your shoe.

Jungkook didn’t consider himself a frat guy, whatever that was. He was a guy, and he was in a frat. Why did putting those two together suddenly erase every other part of his personality? Before, he was Jeon Jungkook—kind, honest, handsome, talented, funny. But now, he’s Jeon Jungkook—frat guy.

That was the only part you seemed to care about. Why should he be compelled to think any kinder about you? To him, you were just a judgmental, possibly even cold-hearted classmate.

But that was before—before he saw you like this. Before he watched you wipe snot from your friend’s nose with your sleeve when the toilet paper wasn’t doing the job. He sank to the floor, mollified with the knowledge that your friend probably wasn't going to attack you at any given moment.

You wiped the snot from your friend’s nose, and the drool from her mouth. You tried to wipe off her smudged and running makeup as best as you could. She was still sniffling, eyes shut tight like she was afraid to open them.

After what must have been at least an hour, her trembling stopped. Her hand was lax in your own, and her breathing evened out. She had finally, finally fallen asleep, while you murmured reassurances into the still space between her face and your own.

You observed her, making sure she didn’t look sick or sallow. Making sure she was still breathing. Your own eyes were dry and stinging, but you weren’t tired enough to sleep. Another half-hour went by like this, until you felt confident enough to extract her hand from your own and carefully climb off the bed.

Your body was slightly sore, and you turned to stretch—and saw Jungkook asleep by the door, body slumped forward.

You stopped. He looked softer in his sleep. His face was suddenly round and painfully young. His mouth was open slightly, air whistling between his lips. His hair was stuck up in front from constantly running his hand through it, and his skin was paler—too pale. His dark circles stood out. He was still wearing jeans and a t-shirt, which you assumed he’d been wearing at the party.

A glance at your phone confirmed that it was only three in the morning. You walked back around the bed and covered your friend with the blanket, making sure she was comfortable. You gently removed her shoes. She snuggled deeper into the pillow, still clinging to sleep.

You moved back toward the door. You crouched down until you were close to Jungkook’s face.

“Hey,” you whispered, reaching out to poke his shoulder gently. He jumped suddenly, whacking his head against the door.

He gasped in pain while you cringed for him. Reaching up, you cradled the back of his head and rubbed gently to help with the pain. It was a sudden, intimate gesture, but you were still in mothering mode. He allowed it, staring sleepily into the dark. You glanced back at your friend to make sure she hadn’t been woken by the thud.

“Can we step outside?” you asked, voice still low. He winced and nodded, climbing unsteadily to his feet. The two of you slipped outside, leaving your friend comfortable and still asleep in the bed.

The hallway was pitch black, but you could see light coming from the bottom of the staircase. Jungkook slipped his hand in your own and led you in that direction. His hand was warm and slightly rough, and you squeezed it subconsciously. He squeezed back. In the darkness of the hallway, so late at night, and after dealing with such a scary and pressing situation, almost nothing felt real—it was almost like a strange dream.

He let go of your hand at the bottom of the staircase. You let him.

A lamp glowed dimly in the corner. In the living room was another boy. You recognized him as the one who had answered the door. He was lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He jerked up when he saw you.

“Is she okay?” he asked, speaking in a whisper. Like it was too late at night and the room was too empty to use a regular speaking voice.

“I think she’ll be fine,” you replied. “She’s gotten past the worst of it, and now she’s asleep. I wanted to grab her a glass of water for when she wakes up.”

You turned toward Jungkook. “Where’s your kitchen?”

The other boy jumped off the couch before he could reply. “I’ll show you.”

“Taehyung,” Jungkook said, lowly. Almost gruffly. His morning voice? “I’ve got it.”

Taehyung stopped and raised an eyebrow. He eyed Jungkook, suspiciously. Something passed between the two of them, but you were too tired and mentally occupied to focus on it.

You tugged on the sleeve of Jungkook’s shirt and demanded, “Kitchen.”

The weird eye contact between Jungkook and Taehyung was broken, and he turned to you. “Yeah, it’s this way.”

He led you, but Taehyung followed anyway. The kitchen was modest and much cleaner than you expected. As if sensing your surprise, Jungkook snorted.

“You really think we’re animals, don’t you?” he asked. He opened a cabinet and grabbed a glass, while you flushed.

“I don’t,” you defended. You were feeling a bit ashamed. You’d thought some harsh things about Jungkook, and even if you hadn’t said them out loud, they still influenced how you’d treated him. Tonight, you’d gotten an opportunity to see a different side of him—one that you hadn’t allowed yourself to see before.

Suddenly, everything he’d ever done to you felt petty. So, what, he clicked his pen? He spilled water on your backpack? What did stuff like that matter? Why had you let it affect you so much?

“Yes, you do,” he replied. “You’re always so quick to think the worst of us.”

“Bold statement to make from a boy whose frat hosted the party my friend was drugged at.”

He and Taehyung winced, but then so did you. You could recognize a low blow, even if you were the one that had delivered it. There must be something wrong with you. Hadn’t you just been thinking you were being a huge bitch?

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, immediately. “I know that’s not the whole picture. I didn’t mean for it to sound that judgmental.”

Jungkook stared, and you flushed. “I mean—I know I can do that. Be more judgmental than I realize. And it’s true that sometimes I’m more inclined to think badly of you. But I know that’s just me being a bitch about it.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Taehyung butted in, drawing your attention and Jungkook’s ire. “This is our frat, and it’s our fault something like this happened. We should be more careful about who we invite and who we let in.”

Taehyung moved until he was standing next to you and continued. “It’s easy to have a negative opinion on frat life. I’m sorry that we had to prove you right tonight.”

Your flush deepened, but this time because of attention instead of embarrassment. Christ, where had Jungkook been hiding such a handsome and well-spoken frat brother? If you’d met him first instead of Jeon, maybe your opinion on frat life wouldn’t be so negative.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at the interaction. It made his skin tingle and his chest burn. He filled the glass he’d gotten with water and thrusted it toward you. “Here. We should go back up.”

Taehyung looked at him in confusion as you took the glass. “Just stay down here and sleep on the couch with me, man. I was gonna stay to get an early start on cleaning tomorrow morning.” He looked at you suddenly. “What did you say your name was again?”

“She didn’t,” Jungkook said, at the same time you replied, “(Y/N).”

Taehyung smiled. It was boxy. Adorable. “(Y/N) and (Y/Fr/N) can sleep in your bed, and you can sleep down here with me. Right?”

Jungkook frowned. “I’m fine on the floor. I want to be there if something happens.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Jungkook shot you such a sudden glare that your teeth snapped shut. Taehyung eyed him again, except this time in amusement.

“Okay,” he shrugged. He looked back at you and smiled, but there was something more to it—it was playful, teasing. “Thank you for coming over, (Y/N). You’re a devoted friend.”

You smiled at the compliment. “I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do.”

“You’re doing a lot more than a lot of people would be willing,” he corrected, making your smile widen.

“Yeah, she’s great,” Jungkook snapped, sarcastically. “We need to go back.”

You narrowed you eyes at him, but let it go. It was time to let it all go. You were tired of being bitter and thinking you were justified for it.

The three of you wished each other good night before Jungkook took you back to his room, hand on the small of your back while you climbed the dark staircase. You stopped near the top, where it was still bright enough to see most of his face.

“You okay?” he asked, concerned. You nodded and looked away.

“Yeah, I just—,” and you stopped, unsure. “I’m sorry, I’m so bad at this. But I just feel like I owe you an apology.”

His jaw dropped. “What?”

You sighed. Did he have to be so dramatic? This was already hard for you. “I meant what I said earlier, about thinking the worst of you. When we first met, I was already in a super bad mood. We got off on the wrong foot.” You looked at his face. “I definitely thought you were just some ignorant fuckboy frat guy, but worse than that, I really didn’t try to see you as anything else. I accepted my bad impression of you and let it color my judgment toward everything you did. That was wrong of me.”

You glanced down the hallway, toward his room. “Thank you for calling me. I’m really grateful you were able to take care of (Y/Fr/N) before I got here. You didn’t have to do that. She’s not even your friend.”

Jungkook watched your face closely as you continued. “So, what I’m really trying to say is—I’m sorry for being rude. I’m sorry for not taking the time to get to know you. And I’m sorry for not giving you a chance. It’s a bad reflection of my character. Thank you for putting up with me, and thank you for helping me tonight.”

You waited a bit in stuffy silence. You weren’t sure what you were expecting—for him to laugh in you face, maybe. For him to at least acknowledge your apology. You were getting nervous until he finally said, “I’m sorry, too,”

You let out a surprised noise, and he continued. “You’re not the only guilty one. I did the exact same thing. I didn’t take the time to get to know you because I thought you weren't worth getting to know. I thought you were rude and uptight, and I went out of my way to annoy you because of it. That was wrong of me and I was being a huge dick. It wasn’t until tonight that I saw you as like, an actual person.”

“What did you see me as before?” you asked, slightly amused.

“I don’t know. A robot or something.” At your offended look, he was quick to continue. “But no offense! You’re just always in class, always paying super close attention, never talking. Sometimes, I don’t even think you breathe.”

You tried to find it in yourself to be offended, but then—you laughed. You laughed hard enough to make the water in the glass you were holding slosh precariously, and until finally, Jungkook laughed too.

“Yeah,” you agreed, still chuckling. “I’m sorry. I take myself a little too seriously sometimes.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” he said. “I probably don’t take myself seriously enough. I know I’m goofy, but my grades—,” and here he stopped, grimacing, “—are bad. Really bad. Especially in chemistry.”

“I can help you out, if you want,” you offered. It was time to start wrapping up your conversation. You didn’t want to leave your friend alone for much longer. “We can study together.”

He seemed shocked. “Really?”

“Totally,” you agreed. “I mean, I suck at chemistry too. Maybe we can help each other.”

Jungkook stared at you a moment longer. If seeing you act kind with your friend had been a shocker, this was somehow even worse—seeing you actively friendly. He was certain, after tonight, and after your apology, that your cold and anti-social persona hide a surprisingly welcoming and caring heart. How willfully blind he must have been to have missed it.

Then he smiled, almost shyly. A surprising bunny smile, very different from the smug one he usually wore in class. “Yeah. Maybe we can.”

The two of you went back to his room. He creaked open the door and let you through, closing it behind him. It was still dark, but your eyes were more adjusted. You could hear your friend lightly snoring on the bed, and could make out a lump under the blanket.

As you made your way deeper into the room, Jungkook seated himself by the door again and leaned against it for support. You winced in sympathy for his back.

“I’m sorry you have to sleep on the floor,” you whispered. Jaw clicking, you suppressed a yawn. Maybe you would be able to get some sleep.

“It’s fine.” And then, “I’m used to having plenty of women in my bed.”

You scoffed lightly. Of course he’d say some stupid shit like that right after your heart-to-heart. “Don’t ruin our friendship before it can begin, Jeon.”

“Is that what this is?” he asked. “A friendship?”

“Go to bed.” You set the glass down on the bedside table and climbed in next to your friend. She was still sleeping peacefully, mouth ajar and breathing evenly.

A minute later, once the two of you had settled, you heard a quiet, “Good night, (Y/N).”

Your lip quirked as you tried to suppress a smile. “Good night, Jungkook.

244 notes · View notes

icarus-suraki · 3 years

Note

fabric asks: cotton, eyelet, lace :)

This got so long, ha ha ha ha fuck....

cotton: what’s your favorite time of the day? This is sort of ironic because I really, really like to sleep, but I actually like early mornings. If I have to be up, if I'm already up, if I miraculously get up, I really like early mornings.

Maybe it comes from having to get to school basically before dawn in middle school and high school--I mean, when your first class starts at 7:30, you're up pretty early. So I remember riding the bus in or being driven in and the sky was almost always interesting in one way or another.

We had a major, major hurricane here in 1996. I was in high school and my dad was driving me to school (it was on the way to work for him) and it was the morning before the hurricane made landfall. And he and I were both decidedly distracted by the sky. It was already humid (I mean, they are tropical storms, hurricanes), but it wasn't cloudy or raining. In fact, it was surprisingly clear, but the wind was up and coming out of the east instead of the west. So the wind was already coming in over all the miles between us and the Atlantic ocean. There were only a few shreds of clouds, but dense clouds, that were blowing along and they were all golden in the light. I saw a lot of sunrises and early mornings in my school years and I really remember some of them.

Honestly, I see a lot of early mornings now, but it's harder to admire them when I'm the one driving, lol.

eyelet: what’s your favorite place? My bed? Mmm, yeah...

Actually, it's the house I grew up in during the time we lived there. It's all changed now, so it's not really the same place, but it's probably my favorite place. It's nothing to speak of, just a 1-story 1970s ranch house in a neighborhood of more ranches and occasional split-levels. But, I don't know, I like it.

Like, it faced fully east, so remember how I said I liked early mornings? The morning sun would just flood my room. And it was up on a hill that flattened out into the cul-de-sac, then sloped down again on the other side of the street, down to a little creek. So we had the best view out over the trees on that far slope. In late winter, late in the day, if it was clear, the sun would set with the light at this almost horizontal angle and in this dark golden-orange color. But half the light would be blocked by the hillsides, so only part of the trees across the cul-de-sac would be lighted. It was like the sun was already low enough that the tops of the trees were dark, and the bottoms of the trees were in the shadow of our hill, but the trunks and the rising land behind them were all orangey-rosy-gold.

And our hill was ideal for sledding when we got some big snowstorms (and we did, too). You could start at our carport (later a garage) and launch yourself down the whole hill, slide across the road, and then if you aimed right you could slide all the way down the clear side of our neighbors' house all the way to the creek. I can literally taste that sour-cold snow smell right now lol.

And all the grass and trees--we had this huge old oak tree that snapped off in the 1996 hurricane I mentioned up there earlier, which was a shame, but we had so many big trees. And this one random white oak that grew in the middle of the backyard but it had moss on its trunk and violets and little white starflowers (I don't know their real name) grew around it. All the moss along the side of our yard, too. And the apple tree that was at the back of our house, trained up along the chimney. And my dad's radio antennas strung up in the trees too. And the people behind us and their elaborate landscaping (which was forbidden territory, which made it sort of magic?). And the forest of feral bamboo. And the walking trails and the little pocket parks. And the patch of pine trees in those two or three yards (and no other kinds of trees). All the dogwoods in spring and all the leaves in fall (and we had a tarp that was made to cover a 1970s Buick, so it was Not Small, that we used to haul leaves out of our yard and we'd measure leaf collections in Buicks, but that made some amazing leaf piles for jumping in). And the various pets in the neighborhood. And the neighborhood pool in the summer, which is where I got to hear a lot of music for the first time.

If I keep going like this, I might cry, because I really do miss it so much.

It got harder and harder to enjoy as we all got older because, after a certain point, the parents would start looking at you funny when you were walking around in the woods. They all came of age in the 60s and 70s, so they probably thought I was looking for a good spot to smoke weed, drink, make-out, whatever. But, no, I just wanted to pretend to be an elf for a while longer--and not a refined, Tolkien, High-Elf elf either; this was a much more earthy, muddy kind of elf. It sucks that there was this unspoken cutoff point and you were supposed to be more interested in dating and college and jobs and "going out" with friends. My folks enforced that cutoff in a major way, but only in regards to college and jobs. No more fooling around outside unless it has a purpose.

I still want to just go play around in the woods like I used to. And there are woods around here--plenty of them, too. But when you're in your late 30s, you do get stared at. When I go on a walk in one of parks around here in my ordinary clothes, I'm almost weird for it. Like, there's lots of people walking, but they're all in workout clothes and they're just powerwalking around this lake, talking on their phones or with their two or three powerwalking friends. And I'm just slouching along in my flipflops, looking at leaves. I get some odd looks and I don't like it. I really wish I could just play elf again (inb4LARPing, though I might yet cosplay Deedlit before I get too old).

I don't know, does an era, does a time count as a place? Because these places at that time are my favorite time and place.

I could literally talk for years about that whole neighborhood.

lace: what is your favorite constellation? I have a special place in my heart for the Pleiades. This is not unusual, and you might even call it basic, I know--but I'm allowed.

First, my zodiac sign is Taurus and the Pleiades sit in the constellation of Taurus.

Second, in my New Age-tinged teen years, the Pleiades were always held in high regard for everyone into alien contact or close encounters. It was like the Good Aliens came from the Pleiades.

Around that time, there was this quiz going around via email, like a chain letter--remember, this was about 1995 or 1996, so these forwarded emails were like proto-memes or ur-memes--that had about 100 questions or so to determine if you were a "lightworker" or a "starseed" or if your soul was from Atlantis or if you were somehow connected to aliens and psychic powers and all that (what it really tested was how much your tastes aligned to what would now be called the "aesthetic" of "new-agecore"). It's kind of classic now, and a bit cringé. Anyway, that had two or three questions about the Pleiades, so of course that made them a bit more "my thing." (I grew out of that phase, but I do kind of miss it. It was probably more good for me than bad back then because it gave me something to hang on to: school may suck and I have no friends, but I'm ~special~ and maybe the aliens will let me come visit them.)

Third, I loved wearing my mother's old leather gloves in the winter when I was very young. She mostly wore them to drive and then would take them off, so I'd put them on. I was 4, 5, 6 years old, so even though my mother is tiny, these gloves were still huge on me. And she'd always say I looked like Maia in Mary Poppins.

Not the movie, the books. In one of the stories, Maia, one of the Seven Sisters, comes down to London to do Christmas shopping for her six sisters and asks Jane and Michael (I think it's just the two of them in this part?) for advice. It's very cold and Maia doesn't have any gloves and is usually illustrated all dressed in gauze and she's cold. So Mary Poppins gives Maia her gloves, which are entirely too large for her hands, but they keep Maia warm as she goes back up to the stars again.

So this is me, evidently...

And last, but not least, I have really bad vision. Like, really bad. Like, completely horrible. Like, I cannot function without corrective lenses at all. So I could kind of sort of see some constellations but the stars were always a bit fuzzy (thanks, astigmatism) and not, like, the points of light poets like to say they are. Twinkle? Nah, they're just fuzzballs, but I digress.

Except that one night, sometime in the fall (I remember it was cold), I was looking up at the sky and I saw something like a star in the corner of my eye. So I looked at it but I didn't see it. Looked away, saw it; looked at it, didn't see it. So I messed around a little and finally saw this kind of cloud of stars that I could only see if I didn't look directly at it. And that's kind of magic. So I learned that was the Pleiades, which is actually a place where stars are being born right now.

So, for me, it's the Seven Sisters. And reading that stories about the Pleiades might go back to when all of humanity was still in Africa really moves something in me.

#noises from issy #ask me stuff #askbox games #meme

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