#but i need to run errands and take a cat to the vet. again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

craftypeaceturtle · 4 years

Text

Sanders Sides Fic Rec

As a heads up! It’ll be very obvious that I prefer Virgil angst and so there will be a definite bias. Just a heads up! All of these will be on AO3 because... it’s the best haha! Also, I’ve only just noticed that a lot of these aren’t necessarily shippy but hey ho! Anyway, here we go!

What Students Teach- mt_reade, 4,000 words.

Hello! My name is Thomas Sanders, and I just finished my first year as a teacher.

I taught a grade one class this year, at a relatively small school. I’ve known that I wanted to be a teacher since I was young, and babysat for the first time. I just love kids so much, and I remembered how much my teachers had an influence on me growing up. I wanted to be able to do that for others. I’ve known for a long time that teaching is the right job for me.

But, what I didn’t know, is that the teaching goes both ways, and the lessons that my students have taught me this year are more valuable than any of the things that I taught them. I’m writing this now to share with anyone who reads this, just precious few of the things that my students teach me.

(I came across this recently but I just love how simple and sweet this idea is! I love how they characterised all the sides in the perspective of children, especially Remus. I feel like it would be easy to write as absolutely ridiculous but he feels still realistic while still being very much Remus!).

I'll Stay Awake (cause the dark's not taking prisoners tonight) - starlocked, 2,000 words, Anxceitmus

Virgil doesn't get to meet his soulmates each night. No, he has nightmares. His roommate decides to stage an intervention.

(I just love this take on the soulmate idea of meeting up in your dreams. I also like that it was no one’s true fault. It would’ve been easy to say that it was all Deceit’s and Remus’ fault for being terrifying but it’s more nuanced than that! There’s not a lot of shippy-ness but it’s still a soulmate au so there we go!)

(don’t) take this the wrong way- delimeful, unfinished, 7,000 words.

Local shark mer Roman finds a tiny mermaid tangled up in a net in his territory, and enlists his siren friend Patton's help to find a way to free the little guy. Unfortunately for Logan, they end up 'borrowing' a human to assist them in untangling the net. Virgil just wants to get out of this nightmare of a situation.

(Maybe I’m just a sucker for merpeople aus, but this is such a good story immediately. Instantly engaging and I’m keeping an eye on it for any new updates. I may also just be a sucker for misunderstandings which is the main conflict so far haha!)

Centaur AU- KieraElieson, unfinished, 10,000 words

Thomas is hired as a centaur groom very abruptly, and is just a little bit lost, but trying his best.

However, when you think of centaurs more as people with animal-like bodies, and everyone else thinks of them as animals with human-like bodies, disagreements are bound to come up.

(So far it’s pretty much setting up the context and characters but it’s done so effectively! The trauma of the characters is handled so well, hinted at and clearly effecting their behaviour, but not so obvious that you immediately know what’s happened to them. Despite being tagged as ambiguous time period, you don’t even really question when the story is set! It quickly grabs your attention and you focus on the story more than any tiny ambiguous details.)

No Longer Alone- Amydiddle, 3,000 words

Anxiety has been living in the basement of Thomas' mind space for almost two years now. A place were all the host's darkness resides. The small side has learned how to take care of himself and how to avoid the sides whenever he goes upstairs.

Tonight's midnight food run goes a bit differently.

(I am so weak for stories about how all the sides formed and first interacted! I think I just fell in love with this concept! Simple but such an interesting fun read!)

The Worst Thing in the World- Arwriter, 6,000 words

Everyone knows Virgil needs to be handled a little differently. He might not like it, but that’s the way it is, and living with the light sides won’t change that. After all, it’s common sense.

Right?

(The first part in a slowly expanding series, the entire series is sooo good so if you like this one then definitely continue reading! It’s such a well written look into their lives, how they handle conflicts and grief. I love Virgil angst where the others get a look into his previous life, no matter how small and sad that look is.)

tales of reverie- cattonsanders, 40,000 words, offscreen Logince.

Roman loves to read bedtime stories to his kids (even if Virgil says he’s grown out of them), but soon Patton and Virgil discover that the story book their dad has been reading to them is actually a portal to the very kingdom they’ve been told about- not only that, but their dad is the prince!

What else will they find as they venture deeper into this new world they’ve found themselves in, and what other, much darker secrets are being kept from them?

(SUCH A CREATIVE IDEA! I love how the plot always kept me guessing but never in a way that felt cheap or misplaced. Characters were introduced and you were left piecing it all together to figure out if they were trustworthy, which is what the main characters are also doing! Will always recommend)

Caught Red Handed- Wholesomereader, 20,000 words

Virgil doesn't like his dad, runs away, and 'accidentally' steals from a local bakery.

Then, the owner of said bakery hires him.

He's in so much shit.

(I love how this is paced and written out. There’s a lot of themes and relationships being built but it still feels easy to keep track of everything and nothing feels swept to the side or neglected.)

Slither Into Your Heart- Jungle321jungle, 6,000 words, unfinished, Anxceit

Deceit didn’t bother to knock as he slammed the door open and glared down to where Remus sat on his bed polishing his morning star.

“What did you do?” Deceit hissed.

Remus gave him a large smile as he looked him up or down, “Do you have the snakes just up there or are they down below too?”

If asked by Patton later, Deceit most definitely did not try to strangle the other side in that moment. Not all.

~~~~

Also known as:

Deceit is turned into a Gorgon. And the new annoying little snakes on his head seem to have an annoying obsession with Virgil.

(Amazing idea, amazing writing, sweet scenes and just! It’s just a nice read! I love how they write Deceit to be this cool tough persona but also named all his new snakes!)

Wings of Anxiety- ShadeCrawler, 7,000 words

Virgil normally kept his wings pressed tight against his back. He never let them out to stretch when he was outside his room. Yes, they got sore after a little while and yes, it rustled his feathers to the point that it took forever to groom them.

But, he couldn’t take them out. He just couldn’t. Dark Sides didn’t have wings. Only Light Sides did.

(Love me some Virgil angst, add in some wings and I’m in! I also love this idea that Virgil was supposed to be a light side all along but circumstances weren’t as fair. Strong self hatred to make a compelling story! Just yes!)

This isn’t what I wanted, but I’ll take it- Simpleton_Cat, 17,000 words, unfinished.

Thomas didn't think he would ever get pets, much less a cat. But here he was, having four cats, Logan, Patton, Roman, and Remus. And then Remus (God, please exorcise the demon that is most definitely in his cat body) brings home two more and then suddenly he's back at the Vet.

Or in other words: Everyone is a cat and Thomas is their owner.

(Again, such a cool idea! I love how this new context for the characters allow for so many new ideas and characterisations. I love Deceit and Virgil’s relationship and how that has shaped, especially how Deceit’s link to lying is written!)

Changing Tides- LadyoftheWoods, 6,000 words.

Virgil ends up overboard of his father's boat during a storm, and expects to drown in the sea. Instead he is rescued by merpeople, in more ways than one.

(Virgil angst plus merpeople- well hello! I love the slowly forming family relationship between the characters. I also love how Virgil reacts to finding out merpeople exist, feels genuine but not too drawn out.)

A Fanciful Dream- AceDetective, 20,000 words, Prinxiety

Virgil could say with certainty that he was no prince. Found by King Thomas’ chef, lost and with no memory of who he was, Virgil spent his childhood running errands in the halls of the castle. When a young King visits and claims Virgil is his brother, Virgil must determine if this is truth or a young King’s hopeful dream.

(While this is very fast paced, everything feels justified and well explained. The confusion between both Virgil and his brother feels so genuine and well written. The quiet slow reaching out makes sense for the both of them!)

Ten Things- LostyK, 30,000 words, unfinished, Anxceit, Royality

When Roman Prince learns that Patton Foster isn’t allowed to date until his older brother, Virgil, is, Roman is crushed. Roman’s twin brother Remus, however, comes up with a plan: find someone who is willing to date Virgil.

And who better to ask than Janus Verona, who according to rumours is willing to do anything for the right price?

(This is one where I kept a close eye to see if it updates, while a silly idea, it’s so well written! I love how Deceit is written as slowly caring and falling in love while still maintaining his persona, just like Virgil! I also love how Virgil is characterised as his usual anxious self but a bit more persona based like before accepting anxiety)

You Can Picani Family You Want- DramaticGarbage, 20,000 words, Analogical, Royality.

Emile finds himself in charge of two small boys who need somewhere to go. It’s going to be a learning curve for everyone.

(If you love found family stuff then this is it! It’s a series of oneshots about different parts in their lives but I love the themes and how the characters progress through each moment. It’s so sweet and rewarding. Plus it has big boi Roman which is always a plus!)

Fatherly Sides- Bright_Sea, 60,000 words, Moceit

There are good and bad days when it comes to being a father. Deceit and Patton learn all about it while raising their four boys.

(Similar to the one above, lots of found family sweet moments all connected by the larger plots and themes. The angst of the larger plot is given the seriousness and gravity that it deserves. I love how trauma is talked about and dealt with in a healthy manner. Everything feels so genuine and realistic!)

Colors- Badgermole, 49,000 words (21 works), Logicality.

A collection of stories where Logan is a young Virgil's dad. Virgil happens to be autistic and has a fascination with colors. Unless otherwise stated: Virgil is aged around early elementary school age with Roman 2 years older.

(Again, with the sweet family moments with minimal angst! I don’t have autism so I can't say whether it’s realistic or not but it’s very well written and covers a lot of autistic themes and everyday life. Actually, read pretty much everything by badgermole as their writing is so good and they tackle a lot of disabled issues!)

Powerless- patentpending, 187,000 words, Logicality, Prinxiety.

“People like us,” Logan had once remarked to Virgil. “Are statistical anomalies.”

(Almost) Everyone in the world has powers. As for those who don’t, well, they’re such a small part of the population - only 0.04% - why would anyone care about them?

Ever since he realized what people mean when they call him Powerless, Virgil Sanders has tried to fight back against the system that oppresses people like him, Patton, and Logan. When Patton’s bakery is targeted in a hate crime, he finally snaps. With the help of a mysterious sponsor, Virgil becomes a villain, ready to remake a broken society. The only thing standing in his way is the world’s most Powerful (and infuriatingly charming) superhero: The Prince, who is hiding the fact that his gilded life isn’t as perfect as it may seem.

(So well written! While fast paced, everything feels so well balanced. Main characters and their plots balanced with new OCs that don’t feel too much and justified in being there. The plot kept me guessing while still feeling justified and interesting.)

Grounded- InstantFire, 18,000 words

No matter your age, punishments are no fun. Despite being no fun, would you be willing to do anything to avoid said punishment?

(I don't know what it is about this piece but it's just sooo good! I’ve reread it so many times, it just won’t leave my mind! I love how it’s carefully written where we don’t quite exactly know what the misunderstanding is until it’s stated out loud for all the characters. Maybe I just have a weakness for Virgil angst and misunderstandings but so worth a read!)

Snow Day- RandomSlasher, 8,000 words

Every year, the sides go to Roman’s realm and spend a few days enjoying the snow. Well…most of the sides. Set pre-Accepting Anxiety.

(SOOOO GOOD! The found family is so well written. Actually, while this is the only mention of Random Slasher because I don’t want this to be too long, read everything and anything by Random Slasher. So well written with some amazing ideas.)

Looking for the Light- OreoButter, 30,000 words

Remus, Deceit and Virgil Dark are Brothers. They had an awful home and now are in the foster system. After being passed from family to family they finally end up with Thomas. Remus is gross, Deceit is a compulsive lier and Virgil has crippling anxiety. Virgil will do anything to protect his brothers, at any cost. The family of three will have to face trial and the truth as they search for the light.

(I absolutely love found family if you couldn’t guess already! But I love how they wrote the sibling relationship between the dark sides, feels so genuine and justified. There is shipping but it feels more like a side plot so!)

Sightless- riverblujay, 9,000 words

Virgil is blind. It's not a big deal though, right? But he hides it, because if the other sides knew they would push him away again. And besides, he's pretty good at faking being sighted...

And the other sides are also more observant than he realizes.

(Again, this is another fic that I keep returning to! Also, I’m not blind or have any partial sight so I can't so whether this is realistic but the conflict and comfort feels so genuine and justified.)

The Black Hole Group Chat- Greenninjagal, 26,000 words, LAMP.

Cat_feelings: [I just have a lot of feelings for you Logan]

Anxi_Tea: [platonic?]

Cat_feelings: [does it matter?]

Anxi_Tea: [you’ve known him for twenty five minutes.]

*** aka a text fic where Logan texts the wrong number and everything goes downhill from there.

(I know text fics can be a little hit or miss but the chemistry feels so real and fun. The characters are still very much themselves, a lot of text fics can feel out of character. I also adore the fact that Virgil is mute so the fic has a reason for why the group chat is used despite them all meeting in person. So good, will always recommend!)

April Fool’s- feduphufflepuff, 5,000 words

This is Virgil's first April Fool's Day with the FamILY, and he has no idea what to expect.

(Love me some Virgil angst and misunderstandings so here ya go! The found family vibes and the comfort and just ah! So good, just go read!)

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #not my writing #fic rec

31 notes · View notes

queenofcats17 · 5 years

Note

i do see hell's studio sammy and susie giving charlie their first pet (maybe a kitten?) and charlie is surprised and happy about getting a kitten

Heck yeah! >:D

Warning, this does have some mentions of animal death.

——————————————————

“Charlie, do you want to get a pet?”

Charlie immediately looked up from the book they’d been reading, their eyes wide and sparkling. Susie stifled a giggle.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said.

“You’re really gonna let me get a pet?” Charlie asked, putting down their book and scooting closer. They were sitting on the couch, their cane propped up next to them. Physical therapy had made it so that they didn’t need a wheelchair anymore, but the muscles in their legs still weren’t strong enough for them to stand for too long without assistance.

“Of course,” Susie replied. “If I’m being honest, I think Sammy could use an animal around the house too.”

Sammy’s last cat had died a little over a year ago and he hadn’t gotten another one since. Susie could understand why Sammy was unwilling to adopt another cat, as he’d had his previous cat, Carmen, for a good portion of his life. He’d raised her from a stray kitten he’d found in a bush. It was understandable that he’d need some time to recover after losing such a treasured friend.

Charlie nodded, their face screwed up in concentration as they chewed on their lip. They bounced their leg rapidly, as they often did when they were nervous.

“Something wrong, sweetie?” Susie asked, putting a hand on Charlie’s.

“I…Would it be okay if we didn’t buy one?” They asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, um…” Charlie started to fiddle with the hem of their sweater. “There was this cat that I used to feed. Back when I…You know.” They paused, hunching their shoulders at the memory. “Anyway, um, she was really sweet and if you’re gonna let me get a pet I want it to be her.”

Susie watched him for a moment or two, a soft smile spreading across her face.

“Of course,” she said, squeezing Charlie’s hand. “We’ll do our best to help you find her.” She was sure Sammy would be sympathetic to their child’s plight.

Sammy was indeed sympathetic. After he got home from the errand he’d been on and Susie had relayed to him Charlie’s response to her question, he’d immediately agreed to help find this mystery cat.

“Where was the last place you saw her?” Sammy asked, sitting down with a notepad in his hands. “Does she have any identifying markings? What did you call her?”

“Um…” Charlie screwed up their face in thought again. “I called her Shadow. She’s missing the top of her right ear and most of her tail. I gave her a pink bandana because pink’s my favorite color. I can show you the last place I saw her.”

“Alright.” Sammy noted these details down.

“It’s a bit late to go looking for her right now, but we can look for her tomorrow,” Susie said, gently tugging at Sammy and Charlie’s hands. “For now, it’s time for dinner.”

“What’re we having?” Charlie asked eagerly. It always warmed Susie’s heart seeing how excited Charlie got about her cooking.

“Lasagna,” Susie answered in a sing-song voice.

“Awesome!” Charlie squealed. Sammy couldn’t help but smile as well. He loved his child so much.

As promised, the three of them went looking for Shadow. The last place Charlie had seen her was in the alleyway they’d been sleeping in prior to ending up at the studio. They’d seen her other times in other alleyways, but that had been the most recent meeting they’d had.

“I hope she’s okay,” Charlie said as they drove over. “It’s been so cold.”

“I hope she’s doing well too,” Sammy agreed. His grip on the steering wheel tightened ever so slightly, although only Susie noticed.

It didn’t take too long to arrive at the alley, which did little to calm the anxieties of both Sammy and Charlie. Once the car was parked, none of them moved. It was as though they were afraid of what they would find when they got out. They both feared what they would see in that alleyway.

It was Susie who left the car first. She stepped out of the vehicle and started toward the alley. Snow crunched under her boots. Her breath formed a fog in front of her.

“Shadow?” She called out, then made a little clicking sound to entice the cat. There was a faint mewing from the back of the alley. Susie quickened her pace toward a box she could make out at the end of the passage. It was made of cardboard from what she could see and covered with a blanket. She could hear Sammy and Charlie’s voice behind her, but she didn’t stop. She knelt in front of the box, not caring that the cold of the snow pierced through her thin stockings. She lifted the blanket and gasped.

“What? What is it?” Sammy demanded, running up behind her.

“Look,” Susie whispered as she moved aside.

There, laying on a little makeshift nest of blankets and pillows, was a black cat. It was missing the tip of its right and the majority of its tail and had a dirty pink bandana around its neck. And it was curled protectively around two teensy little kittens.

“Oh.” Sammy’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“Is she okay? Is she there?” Charlie was still a ways away. They couldn’t move very quickly.

“She’s fine,” Sammy called back, keeping his voice low. “And she has some friends with her.” He was smiling, unable to stop himself.

“Friends?” Charlie’s voice got high and they quickened their hobbling. Upon seeing Shadow and her kittens, Charlie squealed. They knelt as well, sticking their hands in to pet Shadow’s head.

“Look at your babies!” They cooed as Shadow purred and leaned into their touch. “Look at them! They’re so cute!!”

“Well, it looks like we have three cats now,” Susie laughed.

Sammy nodded, already beginning to plan out the vet schedule. They’d need to get Shadow spayed, of course, and make sure she and the babies were healthy. They’d have to be brought up to date on their shots. She’d need a new collar as well. One with a tag. Maybe some formula for the babies.

Charlie was crying now, whether out of relief or happiness wasn’t clear. They’d been so scared Shadow would be dead. She was rather thin, but she was okay! And she had babies!

“We should get them back to the house,” Susie suggested. “It’s pretty cold out here.” Charlie nodded, hiccuping loudly and wiping their nose on the back of their sleeve.

Sammy carried the box back to the car, putting it in the back with Charlie. Charlie spent the entire ride back leaning on the side and just staring at Shadow and her kittens. She was curled protectively around her babies but was still perfectly happy to be petted by Charlie. She clearly hadn’t forgotten them. And she was theirs now. They got to keep her and love her for the rest of her life They almost started crying all over again just from sheer happiness.

“I’m gonna make sure you get really fat,” they whispered solemnly to her. “We’ll be fat together.”

“Not too fat,” Sammy said, glancing back in the review mirror. “We don’t want her to be unhealthy.”

“But all housecats should be a little fat,” Susie added.

“Okay!” Charlie lit up, wiggling in their seat. They were going to spoil her so much. She’d get the kind of life she deserved. And they’d love her kittens so much too! Oh, they needed to start thinking of names for the babies. They hummed to themselves, still watching Shadow.

#bendy and the ink machine #fanfiction #hell's studio au #charlie lawrence #susie campbell #sammy lawrence #mentions of animal death tw

14 notes · View notes

this-lioness · 5 years

Text

Another bullshit update on life in general

Work has kept me busy, and I’ve been trying to get more done creatively and around the house, as well.

This was the first weekend in awhile I didn’t do any (or much) meal prep, since we had enough in the freezer to last us for all the dinners this week, and even a few lunches for Marc. I made a dozen eggs, cut up and roasted almost 5 lbs of potatoes, and called it a day.

I cancelled the physical therapist, because between work, gym, housekeeping and trying to do something other than being a machine I did not have time for an additional two rounds of exercises every single day. We were getting up at 5 AM, leaving for work at 6:30 AM, leaving work for home at 5 PM, getting home from the gym around 7, then eating for a half hour. It was not going to happen.

We ended up cancelling the gym membership, because -- as much as we want to go -- we are just too tired and hungry after an hour-long commute to be like, “Yay, let’s do something tedious and exhausting for a half hour!”

The long term goal was to cancel the membership anyway, however. I told Marc I want us to concentrate on finishing the sheetrock in the former “cat room” this coming weekend so that we actually use it for its intended purpose, which was exercise. I have that barre I bought last year that I haven’t had time or room to use even once, and the treadmill and hand weights is just sitting and collecting dust. So anyway, that’s the plan for next weekend.

We will also be fostering two cats in the next couple weeks, and trying to find them a home. Long story short we met an artist at one of the galleries downtown, very nice guy, and his friend or nephew or I forget has recently knocked up his girlfriend and decided, “Well, we need to move and get rid of the cats I guess!”

So they’re two year-old sisters, and he wants them to stay together, which is fine. Like Rosie, they actually look very young, like maybe only 5 months old. They have never been to the vet in their life, so no shots, and neither of them are fixed, which means it will be on us to take care of all that before they get adopted out. I’m sure he’s going to be a great Dad [/sarcasm].

When Marc found out that the cats needed a full vet workup, including spay, he was initially resistant due to the cost. I said okay, if you’re not comfortable with it you’re not comfortable with it, and went upstairs to investigate our options. The Walmart just opened up a “Vet IQ” clinic that does basic veterinary care, and we can utilize a local spay clinic for about $50 per cat, so on that end alone we’d be shelling out less than $300 (there’s always food and litter, of course).

After awhile Marc came up and was like, “I think I was a little hasty, I’m sure we can make it work.” After I told him the anticipated costs he was much more into it, so that’s good. Hopefully we won’t have any trouble finding a home for them.

Rosie is doing well at feeding time in her crate! It has not stopped her from being an absolute maniac spaz about food, but there is almost no growling at all while she eats now. She goes in her crate, Marc covers it up with a towel, and she eats with seemingly less hysterical anxiety. I’ll call it a tentative win.

Rosie, by the way, loves Bones. Bones can usually take her or leave her, although his tolerance level is much higher when she’s not acting the spaz, although you see moments of affection for her as well. She greets him with a nice long body rub when they cross paths, and yesterday Marc caught him grooming her head. It does my heart good.

At the risk of jinxing myself, I’ve been doing much better at bowling for the past few weeks! I did decently at league on Friday, and when we went for our Sunday practice I had a series of something like 145, 106 and 140. Considering I was lucky to break 100 a couple months ago I’m feeling very encouraged.

What has worked for me, honestly, is throwing out a lot of convention wisdom. Marc has always been very patient with me, explaining game theory and approach and all that, but no matter how much I tried to put it all together it just wasn’t working. And I was really, really trying.

Then, a few weeks ago, I was chatting with someone about Dyscalculia, and did a bit more casual reading about it. I was reminded that it often causes issues with spatial awareness, something I can absolutely vouch for (I actually suspect it’s part of what’s caused me to have such persistent problems with perspective and anatomy over the years, although that’s a discussion for another time.)

So I started keeping that in mind when we play: I used the techniques that I knew were helpful, but in any aspect where I was supposed to do one thing, but consistently got unexpected and problematic results, I tried to go more by “feel”.

It’s hard to explain why this works, but it has so far. Basically, I had to throw out the notion of bowling at “angles”, and became more of a straight-shooter, keeping in mind that my ball does have a tendency to hook left. I got something like 3 or 4 strikes in one game on Friday!

Which is not to say that I’m suddenly a good bowler, because I’m not, but I’m better, which is what I wanted. What’s annoying is when (admittedly well-meaning) people are like, “Here’s what you’re doing wrong!” and try to teach me about techniques which I already know, but which just don’t work for me.

This happened two weeks ago I think, and I’m sure the lady meant well, but she also was ignoring me when I said multiple fucking times, “I understand, but I have spatial awareness problems, that doesn’t work for me.”

Like, repeating something at me over and over is not going to make it any more true. I hear what you’re saying, you’re just wrong.

So in other news I finished two more of the Mori Girl Cats, and that dumb little werewolf thing that was strictly for my own amusement. (Someone was like, “That would make a great t-shirt,” and haha, I’m not fucking falling for that one again.) I also organized the office / computer area of the Geek Room, we stashed away the last of the convention stuff, and it feels much more clean and open and neat. A place I actually want to hang out, and not anxiously work while avoiding the pile of shit sitting behind me!

Last night I also installed Sims 3 and treated myself to a handful of expansion and “stuff” packs. I only had enough time to create one Sim last night, but I already look forward to giving him a cold.

…*cough*...

Unrelated, but I meant to talk about something that happened last Wednesday, when I was out running my Mom around to her appointments and whatnot.

So… for anyone who didn’t follow me on Facebook or my old Tumblr, the short version is that my Mom and I have a very long and complicated history. She was not a very good mother, she is a textbook covert narcissist. She was an alcoholic for many, many years which caused serious and life-altering problems for me as a teenager and young adult, and after she got sober she transitioned to a prescription drug addiction which further deteriorated our already tenuous and fraught relationship, and landed both her and my stepfather in financial ruin.

About a year and a half ago, to help save them from the road to homelessness, we helped them sell their old house and moved them to Bucks County to live about 10 minutes from us, in a mobile home park. We helped them get it fixed up, we help with maintenance, running errands, etc. It’s a very cute little house, and although it took some time I think they see that now, and that their lives are better off.

When they first moved up here my mother was still on prescription drugs, but she very quickly found that it was impossible to find a new doctor to continue prescribing her the same pharmaceutical cocktails she wanted. And boy did she fucking try. She’s already changed doctors at least three or four times since moving here, whipping out her favorite refrain of “I don’t think this doctor knows what they’re talking about!” every time they’re like, “Yeah, you don’t need to be on a steady stream of opiates.”

Eventually the lack of drugs caught up with her, the withdrawal passed, and for the past year or so she and I have actually gotten along okay. She is still, and always will be, a difficult person, and I worry about whether or not she’ll find a doctor to start filling prescriptions again, but until then things are… okayish.

Anyway, that’s the long back story.

Back when they were still living at their old house, Marc and I would periodically go to visit them. My Mom was always drugged out of her gourd, so I fucking hated going, but I had to do my duty, and she made every excuse imagineable for why she couldn’t come visit us. So once a month we’d pack up, trek over to her house, order take-out, hang out for a while, then go back home again.

Except my Mother would do this thing where, after the food arrived, she would put the plates out, and then she would continue to gather plates and reorganize the kitchen while everyone was sitting down, serving themselves and eating.

Like, the food would be on the table, we’d all be halfway through our meals and well on our way to being done, and my Mom would still be in the kitchen sorting around in the drawers for a mystery spoon or bowl that she needed, then finding it, washing it out, drying it, realizing it was the wrong one, putting it away, etc.

Eventually she would come out while everyone else was finishing up, serve herself a tablespoon of food, eat half, and then talk about how full she was.

For a while we would be like, “Mom… everyone is eating. We have everything we need. We literally don’t need anything else. Just come in and eat,” and she would ignore us. Eventually I just stopped caring, and let her do her thing while the rest of us ate. The sooner we finished the sooner we could leave.

I don’t know how else to describe her behavior apart from manic. Like, when it was time to order, if I asked her for a menu, she would bring me the menu, and for fifteen minutes after I had called to place the order she would still be rooting through the drawers looking for more / other menus. She would get herself so worked up that sometimes while we were sitting downstairs hanging out she’d have to go up and be sick.

All this just to give you a sense of what she used to be like.

Anyway. I’m driving her home from an appointment on Wednesday, and she’s commenting how all of us just naturally turn into their mothers as we get older, even though we don’t want to. In that I stayed dead silent through this observation I think she recognized that I disagreed. So then she moved on to how different some daughters are from their mothers, especially in the kitchen.

And she said to me, “Like when I cook, I have to clean as I go along, I can’t just put everything in the sink until later. Remember when you used to come over to eat, and you’d say to me, ‘Mom, come and eat, the food is ready!’ and I’d be so busy cleaning up that I wouldn’t even realize!”

And I’m like, “....”

Because that’s not what happened. That’s not even fucking remotely what happened. So she has spun the reality where she is an out-of-control manic drug addict and spun it into a funny story about how she’s such a neat freak that she doesn’t realize it’s time to eat.

I was sorely tempted to correct her, but at the last second realized it wouldn’t make a difference either way. She is never going to look back on her behavior with any kind of clarity, and trying to force her to do so would just make the day end on a sour note. If she wants to live in delusion, that’s on her. I can tolerate it, but I’m certainly not going to feed into it by saying something like, “Yes, that’s precisely how it happened.”

She’ll have to learn to interpret the silence on her own.

Anyway, I guess that’s it. Greatly looking forward to getting home and having a nice night on the couch, or maybe playing Sims some more. I may even make some tea.

I hope all of you are doing well <3

#oc #personal #fortysomething #blog

8 notes · View notes

simiriicc · 5 years

Text

Animal Care Career for Sims 4 (3 Branches)

Download HERE

Check out my Patreon HERE

You need the Cats and Dogs expansion

Do you love animals of any kind? Then this career is the one for you. Whether the critters in question run, swim or fly you'll be taking care of them and educating the public along the way.

Level 1 - Bird Watcher

The best way to learn about animals is to watch them in their natural habitat. So get some binoculars and a thermos of coffee, because you'll be out early in the morning come sunshine or rain.

Level 2 - Kennel Cleaner

That's right you're scooping poop, it's not enjoyable work but someone has to do it. At least you get to see all those cute animals every day so it's worth it...Right?

Level 3 - Dog Walker

Well, now you get to be out in the fresh air getting some exercise with your favourite furry friends...Although you'll still have to clean up poop occasionally when the dog does their business in a public park.

Level 4 - Pet Shop Employee

So you're working in retail now... Which is better than picking up poop...Marginally. At least you're rewarded with the smiles on sim's faces when they find their forever friend, even if you don't understand the appeal of a voidcritter as a pet.

3 Branches: Exotic Animal Specialist, Pet Specialist and Equine Specialist

Exotic Animal Specialist:

Level 5 - Zoo Keeper

And you're back to scooping poop, boo! But it's elephant and lion poop instead of dog poop so... Yay? Be sure not to confuse the penguin and polar bear exhibits, and please don't forget to shut the gate behind you.

Level 6 - Circus Trainer

I hope you're not afraid of clowns because you're off to join the circus! Make sure those lions can jump through the hoops and stock up on peanuts for the elephants.

Level 7 - Safari Tour Guide

Time to get up close and personal with wild animals, and there are no fences this time. And on top of that you're educating other sims on these majestic beasts, so make sure you can tell the difference between a Bengal and a Siberian tiger.

Level 8 - Dino Researcher

So it turns out some billionaire called Roger Hamster has a plan to bring dinosaurs back to life! Something to do with mosquitoes and amber? It doesn't matter, he's offered you a generous salary to come work in his labs. It probably won't work but it should be interesting at least.

Level 9 - Raptor Trainer

Well, it actually worked, who would have thought it? But there's a problem...The three raptors who just hatched imprinted on you so now you're moving out of the lab to train and take care of them. Now Roger wants to turn the island into a theme park, what could go wrong?

Level 10 - Park Administrator

The good news is Roger's plan worked, and the park is open for business. The bad news is that there was...An incident on the day of the opening...Involving Roger and a T-rex. But wait, good news again, you were the only candidate who wanted to take his place, so now you're the boss...Congratulations?

Pet Specialist

Level 5 - Groomer

It's time to brush those knots and trim those nails, make those coats shimmer and shine. Just watch out, not all pets enjoy their time at the vet, so keep some treats on hand for when Mr Fluffles gets grumpy.

Level 6 - Pet Trainer

"Sit" "Roll Over" "Paw" These are all commands that you'll become very familiar with. Have patience because even the most difficult of students will get there eventually.

Level 7 - Pet Show Judge

Who has the shiniest coat? The cleanest teeth? The best walk? These are all question's you'll need to consider as you decide who deserves that coveted trophy. And watch out because some of the competitors may not like your decision.

Level 8 - Professional Breeder

Puppies, kittens and chicks oh my. You'll be surrounded by the cutest of animal babies, try not to get too distracted by playing with them. And try not to get too attached because unfortunately, all these cuties have to go to new homes eventually.

Level 9 - Veterinary Student

It's time to hit the books and brush up on the difference between Swamp Mouth and Lava Nose. You'll also be shadowing a fully qualified vet so be sure to pay attention, they may well have some words of wisdom for you.

Level 10 - Veterinarian

All your hard work finally paid off, you're now a fully qualified Veterinarian, congratulations! But don't put your feet up just yet, there's still a lot of hard work ahead of you. So put on your rubber gloves and get your thermometer it's time to diagnose and treat those cuddly critters.

Equine Specialist

Level 5 - Stable Cleaner

Mucking out stables is your primary task, but you also have to groom and tack up the horses ready for lessons. It'll be hard work but on the plus side, you get free riding lessons.

Level 6 - Riding Instructor

The student has now become the teacher, it's time to pass your skills on to others. Get ready to brush them off and patch them up if they fall off. But remember the number one rule is to get back on the saddle after you fall off.

Level 7 - Groom

You've been hired as the groom for a competitive showjumper, Poppy Fundell. This job is a lot more complicated than it sounds, you're not only responsible for grooming the horses to make them look perfect for showtime, but you're also responsible for making sure the rider has everything they need and running any errands that they need doing.

Level 8 - Excerciser

Title Description Your employer now trusts you enough to exercise their horses, that means riding or lunging them every day before competitions to keep them fit and sometimes warm the horse up before competitions. It's a big responsibility so make sure they don't regret it.

Level 9 - Professional Showjumper

You've learned a lot from your time with Poppy, she was selling one of her horses and you leapt at the chance to start your own showjumping career. Who knows maybe you'll end up competing head to head with Poppy herself.

Level 10 - Olympic Showjumper

A huge congratulations to you, you've been picked to join the Olympic showjumping team! Now's the time to work hard and go for the gold.

Download HERE Check out my Patreon HERE Made using Neia’s career tool

#sims 4 cc #sims 4 careers #sims 4 mods #ts4 careers #ts4 mods #ts4 cc #my careers

28 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

Text

Survey #206

“have you ever wished for death and prayed all night for your last breath?”

Do you always read the book before you see a movie based on a book? No. When you’re out with friends, do they ever encourage you to spend money you should be saving? 1.) I don't hang out w/ anyone now, 2.) but even when I did, they all knew I didn't make money. Is there anything you’re trying to save up money for? What? Perpetually tattoos, I want a PS4 super badly to play a novel of games I've been dying to play (SotC and Spyro trilogy remaster, I'm @ing you so hard), I need a car soon as I plan to at least try and get my license in the near future, I'd love to always have enough to immediately go to Sara's in case of an emergency, a trip to South Africa... but those are gonna take a good while to complete. I have my priorities straight for when I get a job. Have you ever watched a movie you didn’t really want to see just because a friend asked you to? Yeah. Did you end up liking the movie, anyway? There's been many cases of the above situation, so I'm sure in some instances I have. Heard any great songs for the first time lately? What songs? Hmmm, quite a number. "Radio" by Rammstein is great, and I love "bury a friend" and "bad guy" by Billie Eilish. What is your favorite urban legend? m o t h m a n and the joysey devil. Probably top two. GAH I love so many though????????????? Like Skinwalkers?????????????? And WENDIGOS????????? Have you seen all the cool shit?????????????? Do you remember the last nightmare you had? What was it? No, thankfully. Have you ever hopped on any bandwagons? HAHA. Freshman year, high school... I "liked" screamo or alternative-type bands I'd barely ever listened to or even enjoyed to fit in with the emos aldkjfalkwejr. Are you an elitist (even a little bit) when it comes to anything? What? Definitely not a complete one, but I can get pretty annoyed if in WoW we're in a heroic dungeon and people don't know the mechanics you should have already learned + read new ones that're right there in the goddamn journal laksdjfaoweir and then some people just totally ignore your advice and alskdjfwleiruwqoeif x2. Then again I've been that confused asshole in a couple raiding situations BUT LOOK they're harder and I had too much to catch up on okay. Still no excuse by WHATEVER. Have elitists on a fansite ever intimidated or talked down to you? I don't believe so. Is there anything you swear you will never do again? A few things with certainty. How late do you usually stay awake? I can literally go to bed as early as 7 to as late as 11 or rarely later. I do NOT have a schedule. Started months ago, and at first it frustrated and stressed me out quite a bit, but by now, I've just accepted it for me. Do you have pets? If so, how did you choose their names? Teddy: sister named him, but I'm sure it was the "cute as a teddy bear" type thing; Bentley: no clue; Roman: it sounded majestic, cats are majestic; Venus: pretty, and her coloration is similar to the planet; Kaiju: totally badass for an iguana that's gonna grow to be a big 'ole scaly boy; and Mitsu: I had a theme of giving my rats cutesy "M" names. Do you ever buy special treats for your pets? Occasionally. Is just being fond of something enough, or does it take more than that to be a ‘real fan’? Did a middle school student write this? If you're pretty fond of something, there you go, you're a fan. Sure, some are more intense, but that doesn't make the more casual ones not "real." What type of fabric is most comfortable for clothing? Idk, I don't pay attention. If you wear one – bras with or without a wire? Christ, without. If you wear one – are you able to find cute bras in your size? HA. No. It is RARE I'll find a cute one, and that's always only online. Make pretty ones for plus-sized women a normal find, jfc. Idk why, but I am very picky with bras. Like good fucking luck seeing me without a shirt, so like,,,, why do I bother????? What length do you like your shorts to be? UM you will NOT see me in SHORTS. Have you ever cut off jeans or other pants and made them into shorts? Perhaps Mom has when I was a kid? But I have no memory of this ever happening. Have you cut the sleeves out of T-shirts to make tank tops? I don't think so. Have you ever modified a piece of clothing and hated how it turned out? ^ What was the last disappointing movie you saw? Ah jeez, what's the last time I even watched one. Idk. What was the last disappointing book you read? And I haven't read a book in even longer. Is there anything you’re really excited about? JOB. OPPORTUNITIES. Do you ever watch compilation videos? Of what? Vines, like shit dude. I can go on massive binges. What was the last thing you rolled your eyes about? I don't recall. What would you consider the greatest song ever recorded? Why? Yeesh, that's a big thing to decide. I recently discovered "A Reason to Fight" by Disturbed though, and it is. Incredible. Just read the lyrics to refresh my mind, and yeah, goosebumps. Do you like Hellboy? If so, do you prefer the old movies or the new one? Never seen any. Favorite Disney character who isn’t royalty? Dory, probably. But man, there's too many to choose from. Last thing you purchased just for fun? *shrugs* Do you even like behind-the-scenes stuff or does it ruin the magic for you? IF I'm real into the product, I love that stuff!! I've seen like every little BTS Silent Hill thing there is, probably, multiple hours' worth. What is your favorite thing about Mac computers? They're small and lightweight. What is your favorite thing about PCs? They generally hold much more memory. What are some errands you need to run soon? I don't have "errands" yet. Have your parents ever tried to convince people there was something wrong with you, when their “diagnosis” wasn’t accurate? No. List 3 of your best memories, times you wish you could go back and repeat. In no order, just as they come to me: 1.) First hug with Sara when we met at the airport; 2.) THE LOOK ON SARA'S FACE when she saw me in her room on her birthday (probably fave memory of all time, actually); 3.) seeing meerkats for the first time at the zoo. Ohhhh or maybe the true realization I was happy without Jason. But idk, that was SUCH a gradual process where I didn't feel ecstasy in like one moment. What color was your high school graduation gown? Ew, it was this obnoxious red. The majority apparently voted for it, while I was on the navy team. Are your parents’ dreams for your life different than your own? Mom's pretty dead-set on me being a vet, but she doesn't try to push me into it or anything. I know she just wants happiness for me. I haven't got a clue about Dad. Have your dreams for your life changed? Of course. What are your dreams now? HAPPY, stable job that I thoroughly enjoy, well-off financially (I don't aim to be rich, just "safe," you could say), healthy marriage, own my own home, travel to a few places, did y'all think I was gonna forget "meet Mark???"... stuff like that. What was your dream as a child? It changed plenty of times, but my earliest goal was to be a paleontologist. Do you feel safe in your country? Sure, I guess. Safer than most places. If applicable, do you feel safe at your school? N/A Would you ever want to learn sign language? It'd be cool, sure, but it's not something I'm interested in pursuing. How many meals do you eat a day? 2-3. Sometimes just one "real" meal. Do you own any succulents? No. What color are your walls? A hideous puke green. Why. What color were the walls in the bedroom you grew up in? I don't remember at all. What was the last song you listened to on repeat? "Love Falls" by HELLYEAH. What is your favorite style (or styles) of dance? Modern. Have you ever performed a solo dance in front of a crowd? No. Have you ever sung a solo? No. Which insects are you afraid of? Most, really. Do you think it’s silly to be afraid of an insect, when it’s so tiny? It depends on the insect, of course. Even if I do know what it is and it's "safe," I'll still typically freak if it surprises me. When was the last time you had a deep conversation with someone? Hmmm. Sara, I believe? What are you waiting for? Jesus FUCKING Christ on a bike a job. What do you usually feel like doing the most at home? Stuff on the laptop. What grade were you in when you had your first crush? I don't remember... For "puppy dog love," I believe maybe the 4th grade, but I may be wrong. I'd say my first *real* crush was on a guy named Sebastian in my freshman year of high school. Shit man, did a lot go down my freshman year. I'm just reminiscing and crushes jumped between like five dudes 'til Jason won. At what age did you start experiencing sexual attraction, if any? Some time in middle school, I think? Like that's when I had my first bisexuality crisis: 6th or 7th grade. Have you ever split open a rock with a hammer, to see the glitter inside? No, but FUCK I WANNA. What type of tree do you see the most of where you live? There's a pine tree outside my window. Oh, and there's a pine tree in my back yard. Oh, what's that across the road? Woods of pine trees. Where do all birds in NC live? In pine trees. What does our air smell like? Pine trees. Where is your favorite place you’ve lived? My previous home as far as location; house itself, where I am now. It's got its issues, but it's cozy and a perfect size for just two people. What states have you lived in? Just 'ole North Carolina. Take me awaaaaaaaaaaaay- Do you wish you were someone else? Sometimes. What is your favorite thing about the month in which it is now? Literally just flowers. That's it. It. Everything else can suck a legion of dicks. Who were your best friends in high school? Hannia, Girt, Jason (if he counts), Alon, Maria... I had a few "best" ones. ^Are they still your best friends now? Girt is my closest thing to a "best friend" if you don't include my girlfriend. Do you live near the mountains? No, they're on the opposite end of the state. ;___; Do you live near a beach? We're like, two-ish hours away. What is your favorite beach that you’ve been to? Idk and idc, beaches aren't my thing. Do you collect seashells? Not seriously, but I'll keep a cool one if I find one. If you were to start a new collection, what would it be? If I was not ashamed of looking like a 23-y/o pre-teen in love with Just Bieber, I'd have more Markiplier merch than you'd fucking believe. (One of my biggest regrets in life was not buying the tasteful nudes calendar; I will eternally smite myself for being too embarrassed to have to explain why I would have that hanging above my bed rip.) If you had to pick one year and describe it as the best year of your life that you want to relive again, which year would it be? 2017 was fuckin litty titty. Is your world view the same as your parents’? In some ways with Mom, and I do know Dad and I differ on a few things. Well, if I learned more about his more political beliefs, I feel I'd probably disagree with most. What color are your glasses, if applicable? Black. Are you the person you thought you’d be when you were younger? No. Are you a confrontational person, or the peacekeeper? I'm a massive peacekeeper. I avoid confrontation like the PLAGUE. Do you like to read? Not nearly as much as I used to. Like all I ever read nowadays are RP posts as I obviously have to reply to them, but if they're long, it is common I procrastinate on reading it... ;_; Do you sleep too much or not enough? Probably too much, especially when I go to bed early. Although, I do wake up throughout the night and sometimes officially pretty early. Then some days I have a 1-2 hour nap, so that just adds to it. Who is your best friend? Sara. <3 How did you two meet? YouTube. How did you meet your current bf/gf? ^ How far away is your closest family member? Well I live with my mom, but she's at work atm. The last time you did something with BOTH of your parents was? BOY OH FUCKING BOY. My mom's the most bitter witch towards him, so even for family events, Dad usually only stops by to avoid creating a goddamn wreck, such as at birthday dinners. I think the last time they were in the same house was for my nephew's birthday half a year ago, I believe. What’s your favorite holiday? Halloween!!! Now that I have a niece and nephew who grasp the concept of Santa, Christmas is also really special to me. I don't want kids, but watching those sweethearts get so excited over their presents is magical. For me personally, the holiday has grown more and more about celebrating family, especially as we continue to branch out/go our own ways. So I guess I like the idea of Halloween better and would enjoy it more if I actually had something to do, but as far as joy goes, Christmas. Do you like pumpkin pie? I hate anything and everything pumpkin-flavored. The last time you went to the doctor, what were you there for? It was the see my psychiatrist. Do you take any medication regularly? Yeah. Is there any particular view you have on insane people? I see "insane" versus "sane" as far more of a gradient shift instead of a direct split; there're levels. I actually do legitimately think I at some juncture in the aftermath of the breakup qualified as slightly insane, yet I wasn't dangerous or entirely out of touch with reality. So if you tell me someone's actually insane, I'm going to fear them being the explosive, entirely unpredictable and loopy kind, but I know the person may be calm and somewhat stable on the outside, too. You gotta consider the severity. Do you believe in any conspiracies? 9/11 was orchestrated by the government and you cannot change my mind. I'm not totally sold on this one and lean more towards "nah" (I think), but the "we live in a simulation by a future civilization" is not that far-fetched at all if you actually look into it. It's very interesting, whether or not you're sold on it. Hell, Neil deGrasse Tyson firmly believes in it. Out of your friends, who is the funniest? Girt makes me laugh at the snap of his fingers, it seems. Anything you need to get rid of? I'm sure somewhere... Do you have any wasted talents? Animal knowledge and compassion, probably... I know I could make a fantastic rehabilitator for animals, among a plethora of other animal-related preservation and protection actions I could actively engage in. Well, I'm going back to school for zoology, but even now, I want to do more. There is a wildlife rehab place I may be able to volunteer at soon, tho! Mom's talking to a guy at work about me helping there. DAMN, livin a dream. Do you let the little things get to you? The issue could be as small as a single cell and it could still bother me. How often do you cry? Maybe once in a week, possibly longer. I don't know if you mean like really cry or just tear up/lightly cry. The latter is pretty common, but the other, not so much. Even if I want to cry, my jaw just entirely locks the hell up and I physically can't get it out. Is there anything you’re trying to prevent? I mean besides the common sense things everyone takes action to avoid, hm. I feel like there's so much, yet nothing is coming to me? Well, actually, it's usually a daily struggle to prevent at least one OCD cycle. When was the last time you were told you were cute? *shrug* When was the last time you were truly, completely happy with your life? It's been quite a while... At least over a year ago, when I began to get antsy with wanting a job and later going back to school. It just all started when I realized I was healed from the breakup and ready to move forward in life, but I wasn't. Do you miss the way things used to be between you and someone else? Multiple people. What colors has your hair been? Dirty blonde, brown, red, and purple. I've had red and purple highlights, and I naturally have blondish ones, too. I'm ready to dye it again, jfc. Most attempts are failures because my hair does NOT take color well whatsoever. It's only ever worked perfectly with the brand Splat, and my hair soaked in the dye for a LONG time before washing it out. Have you ever gotten burnt by a cigarette? No. Do you and your parents like any of the same bands/singers? We share interest in plenty of the same bands, Mom especially. Is there any food in your bedroom? What? No. Do you know anyone who has road rage? Who? MY LITTLE SISTER. Haven't seen the woman in three years, but I can promise you Jason's mom still has it to a legendary degree. How expensive is too expensive for a pair of shoes? I haven't looked for shoes in so long that I don't even know the average price. What kinds of cereal are in the cupboard? Honey Nut Cheerios, normal Cheerios I think, and we have a little bit of the chocolate chunk Special K cereal left over. It's got to be stale by now (it's not even closed fully); I need to remember to toss it. What’s the last thing you spent over $10 on? Ummm I'm not sure. Over $30? I think my tongue piercing was $40? Maybe even lower? Or slightly higher?? I don't remember. Do you know who lives three houses down from you? I think so. The one time I was locked out of my house in the snow with Teddy and I waited like a fucking hour until I broke down, absolutely freezing (I was in my pajamas, dude), and walked down the road to try and get help (I needed to call my mom, obviously, and I didn't have my phone), I believe it was the third neighbor who answered. Turned out being a retired deputy who was super intimidating yet kind at the same time; he let Teddy and me stay in his house (mind you, Teddy is incontinent and didn't have his diaper on, which I warned him about) while Mom was on her way home. He gave me a jacket and some water, even when I said I was fine, but you could tell he wasn't totally sure about trusting this random, sobbing girl at his door because he asked me a thousand questions about my story and quizzed if I really did live in this area. Obviously a good cop, but after a day like that, I was just terrified of an old man who appeared a bit gruff. But thankfully Mom got there to save the day and I am forever grateful for that guy. WOW what a story for a simple question. Is there a bulletin board in your room? No. Is your mom a big health freak or your dad? Or neither? "Health freak" seems a bit extreme for both of them, but Mom is more concerned about health in general. Do you know anyone who wants to be the president one day? No. What kinds of chips are in the cupboards? We just have tortilla chips, I think. I try to keep snacks out of the house to avoid temptation, and who eats plain tortilla chips. Do you have your mom's or dad's hair? Mom's. What’s the first thing you see when you walk into your bedroom? Most would probably notice my Nightmare Before Christmas poster first, being as big as it is and on the wall opposite the entrance. Do you prefer the truth, even if it’s harsh? YES. I NEED to know this kinda stuff, even if the truth is really hard to hear. Do you have any friends who have naturally red hair? I don't think so. Have you ever cried when a teacher retired? I think I did when my very first band teacher did. EVERYONE loved him. Like, the entire school. Does your kitchen look like it was designed in a completely different decade? No? When’s the last time you wore heels? Great question. Probably not since my sister's wedding in '16. Do you have your mom’s or dad’s eyes? My grampa's on Mom's side. What’s the best date movie? Probably a rom com? Have your parents ever been out of the country? No. How many pairs of jeans, all together, are in your house? Zero. Do you swear and yell while playing video games? I'll swear under my breath or seethe in frustration, but I never yell. Is there any alcohol in the fridge? No. Has a best friend ever ditched you for a girlfriend/boyfriend? Pretty much. Whenever she starts dating a guy, she dips, and whenever/if ever we talk, she rambles absolutely endlessly about him. Do you know anyone who has grossly skinny eyebrows? I couldn't possibly care less about how your eyebrows look. Do your pets chase after bugs? Roman and Bentley sure do. Bentley is a Professional Fly Moncher, specifically. When’s the last time you were so excited you couldn’t sleep? Why? Uhhh good question. Probs the night before Sara got here for my b-day. What is your mom’s favorite movie? Hm, good question! I'd ask her, but I don't want her to ask me why I am lmao. What TV family reminds you of your own family? Probably none. Did you ever really believe that the stork brought babies? No. I don't remember what I thought, but I know it wasn't that. Do you have any relatives who really spoil you? No, I think? Well Dad gives my sisters and me way too much money for Christmas and always tells us to ask him if we need anything, but I pretty much never ask him for said things, so I don't know the extent he'd go. Are there any drawers in your house that are just filled with junk? Pretty much. Is the last person you spoke to in love? That's my mom, so I doubt that with all I know. Do you know anyone who has security cameras in their house? I don't believe so. What was the last movie to make you cry? I think the last was Coco. Moana may have made me tear up, but I can't remember... Has anyone you know ever pulled the fire alarm in school, joking around? Not to my memory. What time do you usually go to sleep at sleepovers, if ever? I haven't been to a sleepover in God knows how long. Who was the main character in the last book you read? Alice Liddell. Who are the last people you saw kiss? Via YouTube, Jeffree and his boyfriend. Irl, I don't know. Have you ever posted a fan fiction on a website? No. Do you ever fantasize about your future wedding? Who’s the bride/groom? Not very much. Like I've had brief daydreams about it, sure, but it's not something that's on my mind a lot. Still got a long time before that happens. What was the last unpleasant thing to wake you up? My cat not knowing how to keep his mouth shut. Would you rather look at clouds or stars? Stars. Well, it depends; stars if we're in a completely isolated area where you can see them crystal clear or the clouds are boring, but otherwise, clouds if their design and colors are cool. Do you have any relatives who are expecting a baby really soon? No. Do you ever wonder what the opposite sex do at sleepovers? No. When you get married, who will be the maid of honor/best man? My mom, no questions asked. When’s the last time you broke plans? Why? I wasn't feeling well. I was supposed to see my VR coach that day. Have you ever been in a wedding? What were you? Yes, my sister's. I was a bridesmaid. It was an absolutely awful experience because I was hot as fuck, it was triggering as HELL with me still grieving Jason, and I felt positively hideous in a dress when I was at such a horrible weight. I wish so dearly I could redo that day; I fell like I put a serious damper on my sister's big day. Would you feel safer with an alarm system or security cameras? Hm, depends on the scenario... I guess an alarm system? Like security cameras will show a murderer climbing through my window, but they're not gonna wake me up to save my ass. Does it matter to you what kind of shampoo you use? So long it smells nice, isn't watery, and doesn't only add oil to my hair, I don't care much. Has a stray dog ever tried to bite you? No. When riding a bus, do you prefer to sit in front, in the back, or in the middle? Hm... idk. When I took the bus home with Jason, we always sat in the back, and that's really the only time I took a bus regularly. I think otherwise, I'd prefer the middle, closer to the front? I think I usually did that on occasions like band competitions and such. Have you ever been on a cross-country train ride? No. Are you normally a person to tell people off? No, that's rare. Is there any TV show that ended that you wish hadn’t? Meerkat Manor. Though I would hope they'd lessen down on the false story-telling. Stick to the true KMP events. When you feel stressed, do you take things out on the wrong people? Sometimes. Do you even wear any jeans other than skinny anymore? I don't wear jeans period. What did you talk about at lunch today with your friends? N/A Are you sensitive to caffeine? Definitely not. My system's too used to it, probably. How do you usually get around? Mom drives me. I'm 23. :^) Which languages do you wish you could speak fluently in? German. Have you ever been accused of being too clingy? SURPRISINGLY no, at least to my memory. Do you like Vitamin Water? Never tried, don't want to. What was the last thing you took a picture of? Dad and me on his birthday. Do you know anyone that uses Sprint as their phone carrier? Idk. Well, I think. When you go to McDonalds, what drink do you usually get? Coke. Do you have a Kindle or iPad or neither? Neither. Would you rather read or write? Write. When was the last time someone took a picture of you? Sometime during Bobby's visit literally days ago. I already forgot who took it... and who else was in it lmao. Do you own a pair of slippers? Yeah, two. A meerkat pair and then a far less extra pair that're closer to socks. I think they have cats on them? I got them for Christmas I think and haven't worn or seen them much. Would you rather see Taylor Swift or Carrie Underwood in concert? Not a fan of either, but Carrie Underwood is more tolerable and even has a couple songs I enjoy. Name something negative that you hate about yourself: I'll jump to a conclusion within .02 seconds of something negative happening. Or not even "negative" or something that's purely in my head. Is your house currently hot, cold or just right? The house itself is fine, and my room is just right because I have my fan on. Is there a Dead End road near where you live? I can't think of one off the top of my head, but it's likely, really. There's lots of those here. Growing up, did you see your cousins often? No. We live many states away on both parents' sides. Where was your first job at? GameStop. Who are you tired of seeing in the news a lot? (Celebrities) It's been like two days and I'm over seeing the James Charles/Tati drama everywhere. You can't be interested in the YouTube community without being drowned in that shit right now somehow someway on any YT-coverage page and YouTube itself. Have you ever had to call and complain about a product you bought? I personally haven't. Would you date someone who’s shorter than you? I very openly and severely judge you if fucking height means that much to you. Do you mind being the third wheel? Not really, no. I'd only feel uncomfortable if they were getting pretty intimate. Has a kiss ever made you weak in the knees? Um I didn't know that was actually a thing so no. Do you feel comfortable buying condoms? Never been in that position. Have you ever dated two people at once? No. Have you ever been tested for STDs? No. Well wait, that time I gave blood I probably was just out of safety protocol. Have you ever run into your ex with his/her new sweetie? No. Have you ever felt guilty after doing something sexual? When I was in that "wait does this break the abstinence rule" phase, yeah. God was I technical. Have you ever had a condom break during sex? N/A Do your parents know if you’re having sex? Well considering I'm with a girl and she lives states away, that answer's obvious. Do you eat chips or crackers more? Chips. Would you rather be a singer or a dancer? A dancer. Would you rather be a musician or a painter? A painter, maybe? If I could play the electric guitar, though... idk. What social media sites do you visit the most? Facebook. What did you hair look like in high school? Long, thick as fuck, brown (or dyed black) with some sort of highlight, and it was split to the left with the hair swooped over my right eye. Basically "I want the emo swoop but my hair is too fucking thick to obey hairspray." :^) Which dollar store do you shop at? Depends on what's closest, usually. We rarely ever stop at one unless it's for candy to bring into the movie theater, seriously lol. I think usually Dollar General? Do you prefer candy corn or conversation hearts? WE DON'T KNOW EITHER. Skeletons or scarecrows? s k e l l y b o y s Has anyone ever given you the silent treatment? Yep. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever had in your mouth? I learned on that day I hate giving blowjobs. Has anyone ever threatened you with a knife? No, thankfully. (If you’re a girl) Has anyone ever called you ‘shortie’ instead of girl? BOY I would fucking cackle. I hate that word. No. Do you ever watch The Simpsons? No. Have you ever sent an embarrassing moment of yours into a mag to be printed? OH MY GOD I remember that!!! But no. What IS your most embarrassing moment? Too lazy to go through the novel of 'em to pick the worst. Do you think you’re more cute or sexy? You assume I find myself either. Do you own any mini skirts? I don't own any skirts period. Do you draw little hearts and stuff with eyeliner next to your eyes? No. What’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever lost? Idk. Has your mom ever lied to you? I'm sure she has before. Do you have a deep voice? For a girl, yeah. When’s the last time someone made breakfast for you? *shrugs* Exclusively for me, probably never. Do you do something new with your hair practically every day? No, it's the same everyday. When someone knocks on the door, who do you think it is? Delivery guy. Has anyone ever licked your foot? Ew no. Do you play games with boys/girls, like ‘hard to get’? I'm not 15. Has a guy ever quoted a romantic Shakespeare line to you? No, and I'm glad, as I'd cringe into another realm. Is there a Sonic where you live? Yes, I LIVE- Do you smile with your teeth? Usually. I look less high, at least. What did you eat for lunch today? A pb&j. What do you like on your pizza? Pepperoni, jalapenos, or meat lovers. What is in the back seat of your car right now? I don't own a personal car. Mom has a a load of stuff in the back of hers, at least I think... That's super rare, but she's been so ungodly busy idk if she's had time to clean it out. I haven't paid attention so can't recall. What was the last thing you threw up? Idr. Menthol or regular cigarettes? I don't smoke and never have, so idk. What is your favorite episode of Friends? I don't watch it, and I haven't seen many episodes at all if for whatever reason I was in a room and it was on. Does anyone have any blackmail on you? No. Have you been to a strip club? No. What’s the last sporting event you watched? Hell if I remember. It had to either be my 16th birthday when Jason's family was all together watching the Super Bowl, or a hockey game with my dad. Last person’s house you were in? Besides my own, my sister's. Who is the last person you sent a message to on Facebook? Nicole. Ever go to camp? No. Were you an honor roll student in school? Yeah. Do you have a tan? HA no. How old do you want to be when you have kids? I don't want kids. Are you someone’s best friend? Yeah. Favorite gemstone? Dragon's breath opal. Do you go in at a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? Drive thru, almost always. Does your first memory involve your dad? No. When was the last time you went swimming? Last summer at the beach. Holy fuck the water was so perfect. Has your luggage ever gotten lost? No. Have you ever thought it would be cool to smash a guitar? No. Like... just why. Do you ever get flu shots? No.

#survey #quiz #questions #random

3 notes · View notes

hellotinywonder · 6 years

Text

ten years later...

[Česká Verze] This has been kicking around my head as of late, I have a dear new friend who doesn’t speak much English, and I’ve wanted to tell him about this weird, terrible moment in my life that fundamentally changed who I am and how I will forever interact with the world (both in good ways and bad). But I don’t know how to. So I am writing it all down, which is something I have never done. And then I will leave it here, and of course, once a year I will remember and shake my fist at the world for myself and all the other victims of violent men, and then I will put my fist down, and get back to living my life. It’s that time of year, though...

I’ve been thinking about this a lot. It comes unbidden in the middle of the night. When someone is walking too quickly toward me. When someone says something inappropriate online or in person. When too many of the boxes, of that pattern of violence I have permanently etched in my head, get ticked… I think:

“Ten years ago someone tried to kill you... maybe you should run.” (Obvious content warnings apply, readers: Violence.)

Ten years is so long. I have adapted. I have moved past it. But the parts of that night, those horrific hours in the morning… 4am. 5am. In the ER by 6am… the parts that are left, I feel are going to stay with me forever.

They don’t haunt, so much. They are just there. In the corners. They keep me aware. So in some ways, they keep me safe.

Daniel Rhinehardt was my housemate. (How do I refer to him? There is nothing colloquial about him at all, but since this is going up online, as a statement of public record, as a possible search result for Google, that might warn some poor woman who doesn’t know… Daniel Rhinehardt is his name, and I will refer to him as such.) We did lots of things together, because I am the type, I have discovered, who likes housemates as community. I have had many successful versions of communal housemates, who cooked together, or went on mundane errands, that sort of thing. With no hidden agenda, no sense of obligation… healthy relationships between people. This was not one of them. But I was too young and naive to figure that out in time.

I won’t go into too many details, but this man became obsessed with me. I remember being on tour for a month, bills paid in advance, and I received harassing phone calls from him because I hadn’t called him, or some nonsense like that. We did our first Dragon Con (major convention in Atlanta, that I performed at or now do puppetry at) that year, and he came with us to sell merch. I woke up one morning in my band’s hotel room to find him in bed next to me, which unnerved me (I had specifically requested my female friend sleep with me, to keep this weird toxicity I was starting to pick up on away). I was looking for apartments in September of 2008. I was looking. I hadn’t said anything, but I knew I had to leave, but I just didn’t pull it all together fast enough.

On September 20th, 2008, at my friend David’s birthday, Rhinehardt got drunk. At the time I did not drink and was babysitting friend of mine on the roof. They were a bit touchy feely as they were on some other substances, but I didn’t mind. I trusted them and I knew I was in control of my situation. When we decided it was time for me to go to bed, we all cuddled a bit and they each kissed me goodnight. They were a married couple, and there was nothing untoward with silly friendly kisses, but it set Rhinehardt off. He started yelling nonsense and threw a chair off the roof (it was caught by a lower tier, and did not fall to the street). He stormed off screaming garbled obscenities and was gone. The night was thrown into disarray. We tried to call him because we were all concerned. But I was also starting to panic. I took a hit of my inhaler and we went back downstairs into David’s apartment. I sat on her bed while some friends talked me down and told me I really needed to move out. I agreed and told them how I had been looking, but couldn’t find anything at the time. I don’t know how long we were there in the apartment when Rhinehardt came back in, yelling nonsense, walked straight in at me and stabbed me in the side.

I would like to take a brief moment to mention a memory that I can never shake. One day, apropos of nothing, Daniel Rhinehardt told me that if he was ever going to stab someone he would make sure to swing in from the side. That is where all the organs are, defenseless. It was so much more work to stab from the front or the back because of the ribcage. He *told* me that once. Well before, I think, he had any designs of stabbing me… but he told me that. He thought it was impressive. This vast knowledge of violence.

“...stabbed me in the side.” It looks so small to read it back. Such a small action. How does it reverberate even now?

Thankfully I had enough reactionary sense to move as much as I could, being seated on a bed, and turned myself away so that his fist, no, knife… both... hit my hip and lodged there 3 inches, (8cm or so), instead of my side. My organs were spared, and while the scar tissue presses against it, my sciatic nerve and artery were both missed.

I screamed. He pulled the knife back and tried to stab me again, but was pulled off by someone else. Matt McCorkle, David Forbes, and Luke Withrow all had a hand in saving my life that night. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if they weren’t there, if I had gone home. Best not to think about it, not now or ever. It would not have been good. As fucked as I was, I was still somehow, always, lucky.

Then came the insanity that was bleeding all over my friend’s bed and floor. Rhinehardt was pushed out of the apartment, the door was locked. Every time someone knocked on that door I lost my shit, completely terrified. But at the same time I was in shock and trying to sort out how I could avoid going to the hospital, one seemingly completely logical thought was: Matt’s dad was a vet… so we had access to medical supplies? My health insurance did not start for another TEN DAYS. (Thank you for absolutely nothing, America.) 911 was called, because of course it was. I had been stabbed right in front of a group of friends and party-goers. I was left, lying on the floor, while Luke and Danielle held towels against my hip and thigh to try to stop the bleeding.

That’s how it went for 20 minutes? 2 hours? I could not tell (of course it couldn’t have been 2 hours, but I lost all track fo time). Eventually paramedics arrived, cut my pants off, staunch the bleeding as best they could (my inhaler I took during the panic attack was working as a blood thinner, so that was miserable) and whisked me away.

Shock is a wonderful feeling. I mean, it’s horrible, but it does keep you calm. I “made friends” with them, they were very excited about their new sealing product for puncture wounds. They whisked me into an ER. Where I was photographed, documented, scrubbed, sutured, stapled, and asked a million questions I didn’t know how to answer.

Meanwhile everyone was sort of detained at the apartment -now crime scene- to give statements. More photographs were taken. I’m told they are available somewhere, public record, but I’ve never seen them. I’ve asked once, but was unable to track them down.

I was told by the detective on my case, no, *the* case (it would become very apparent that this was not MY case, rather I was the VICTIM in the STATE’s case) that I could not go home. It was not safe. Did I have anywhere to go? Anyone I could stay with? I didn’t know. I had friends… but I knew Matt, Amanda, David, Luke, Danielle… but I didn’t know anyone’s last names, didn’t know how to contact anyone… I am not sure if I even had my phone, no… now that I think of it,I think my phone and my bag were left behind on the floor of the apartment. I was given crutches, scrubs (again, my pants had been cut off), and my shoes, and a voucher for a taxi, and discharged around 9am.

I was given back my shoes. Little beat up black ballet flats. I just stared at them. They were splattered with blood. I stood there in what must be one of the most cinematic scenes of my life, a mess, leaning on crutches, completely alone in a hospital lobby, as the sun crested the mountain and poured over me. A man offered me a wheelchair, but due to the location of my wound, I was unable to sit down. I hobbled to the sidewalk… I had no bag, no belongings, just my shoes in my hands, and as the cab driver came over to me I saw Luke and Danielle turn the corner. They had come to find me, and subsequently adopt me. We went back to Matt and Amanda’s apartment, which was in the same building as mine. Rhinehardt was still in jail at the time, so we went through my apartment and grabbed some essentials. Some clothes, my laptop, The Invention of Hugo Cabret (a book I had been meaning to read), Agatha (the cat I had been cat sitting) and some other items I forget. We sat around Matt and Amanda’s apartment for a bit, then, exhausted, back to Luke and Danielle’s where I would live for the next few weeks. Daniel Rhinehardt would be released on bail that night, and he would never go back to jail for this crime. Because that is how the system works in North Carolina.

When I made it back to Luke and Danielle’s house I remember calling my parents. Calling my friend Tom in the wee hours of the morning, because of the time zone, and leaving a message saying something like “you should call me back as soon as you get this.” I called work and asked to not come in for a bit. I tried to explain.

These mundane exercises.

I needed to inform my people.

I started using Facebook for only that reason. To tell my people from Charlotte, my hometown (no, I don’t claim that often) that I would be back for a short stay, couldn’t drive, needed help. Needed people around me… I don’t know. I do know that Erich Moffitt, an ex -but I thought friend- never returned my call. Just left me out there, drifting in the darkest void I’ve ever drifted in. So... yeah, a polite fuck you, dude.

Everything went from bad to worse as I tried to recover, but there were still wonderful highlights to cling to. My friend Tom created a paypal donation site for me, as I was uninsured and would need help covering the medical bills (though in the end Victim’s Compensation would cover them, but not before they went into default and cruel creditors would harass me and call the incident of someone stabbing me an “accident”), I was caught by an incredible network of friends in Asheville, who I am forever overjoyed to see, who I can rely on to this day, and I love dearly. My birthday, 2 days later on Sept 23rd, I spent in Charlotte, my parents collected me and took me to their home a few hours away for a few days following which made sense. It was during a gas crisis, but I didn’t know. My friend Mike Walker and his wife Mary came to my parent’s house, collected me in the back of their car, and drove me out for Ethiopian food on my birthday. It was truly special.

I bonded so much with Agatha, the cat, who I was cat sitting, in Luke and Danielle’s little guest room. She was my constant companion as I recovered. I read The Invention of Hugo Cabret. It is one of my favourite books to this day. It is easy, beautiful, densely illustrated, and I would get lost in it. I would read it over and over, or just open it and look at it. It’s still a comfort that I can’t quite describe. Calm, dark, stable. An adventure, but a safe one. (Fun fact, I buy copies of that book whenever I see them in second hand shops, to give to friends. I have one now that was just unknowingly claimed by someone.)

I was wearing my punk rock jacket, covered in patches and badges, when I was stabbed, but thought nothing of it. When I was in the courthouse, filing for a temporary restraining order, I put some coins in my pocket and they fell out onto the floor. The knife had gone straight through. I later stitched it back shut in red, and then silver thread over where the staples had gone. The punkest punk rock jacket. I still have it, but I don’t wear it anymore.

I came back to Asheville too soon, to do a Hellblinki show. I was incredibly out of it. I remember Ian (who I would date for 5 years, much later) visiting that show and hugging me and having no earthly idea what I had been through. (It should have been a warning, really, I think now, but from a place of happiness, love, and sarcasm.) I passed out on the couch at the venue. The bar staff and owner knew what was up and looked out for me, and told me if I ever needed anything, ANYTHING, just come to them. Just go to The Rocket Club and they would sort it. The Rocket Club is gone now, but I think to think that the offer still stands with Ken.

I recovered physically. I used a cane for a while, but eventually, now, I am 99%. That 1% shows up now and again, excruciating pain if getting a massage, or just weird weather patterns and scar tissue.

Emotionally and mentally I am okay. I have PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), but that’s not surprising. If and when I run into Daniel Rhinehardt, and I have the unbelievable misfortune of doing so now and again, I sort of “blackout”. I go into this incredible fight or flight response moment, and I always choose flight. It’s not an option. It is done for me. I “come to” as I am running down a street, hiding in a bathroom, or driving away (it’s terrifying to sort of “wake up” in your own body and find you’ve been driving a car.) These blackouts aren’t black, but I become much more a passenger and my lizard-brain takes over. I’m mostly aware of what is happening, but I am not the one in control.

Daniel Rhinehardt received no jail time. He was given probation, required counseling, and is a convicted felon. It’s not much. It’s not much, but at least it is not nothing. He does have a record. And he’s added to it since me. That’s the main reason I am writing this. Because he attacked women after me.

I would later have several women come tell me how he had abused them or been violent, but they were always too afraid to go to the police. This breaks my heart and makes me incredibly angry. I would have never been put in this danger if there was some record, if people warned each other about violent men. Thankfully we as a culture are better about that now, ten years later. The sentencing hearing at court would be laughable if it wasn’t so goddamn tragic. Rhinehardt's lawyer claimed he only drank that night because he didn’t want to be rude to his host, then asserting that his drunkenness somehow means his violence wasn’t actually him. David grabbed my hand. I could tell she was furious. I was in a weird state of disbelief and also just acceptance that the NC Court System did not and does not give a fuck about me.

After the court hearing I was dazed. But I remember we walked out into the gray February day, and got coffees. What else can you do? I had gotten knocked about so much over those 5 months that nothing shocked me. I just accepted it as best I could. And had coffee.

I got a restraining order, but every year when I went back to renew it some judge behind a desk made me feel like I didn’t deserve it, because if it had not been violated, why did I need it? One of them, the last one (before I stopped going, not needing to expose myself to that trauma over and over) called me “Miss Rhinehardt”, just truly horrible people who absolutely did not care about me. Again, North Carolina, I am looking at you with so much contempt for how you treat women.

All of my legal work was handled pro bono by Pisgah Legal, and I am thankful to them forever. I was terrified I would not qualify or I would have to prove this happened, or I don’t know what, but no, I was firmly supported and told that the 911 call and the photos were terrible, but also incredibly damning in my favor. An odd benefit, I guess. Also, since my attack is technically domestic violence, I had access to counseling through Helpmate and OurVoice, who are both fantastic resources.

I applied for a passport. Just seemed the right thing to do. I wanted to leave the country. I wanted to leave it all behind for just a bit. The passport came in the mail, but on the same day, a check from Victim’s Compensation reimbursing me, finally, for all the medical bills I had been forced to cover, arrived. I put the two together and a few months later left the country to go do a festival with band family in London and Whitby, and visit my dear friend Xavi Quero in Barcelona, Catalonia.

There’s more mess afterward as well... I can never quite write it all, and maybe what is left out will just fade away into obscurity. But this is enough. Except it is worth saying: a couple years later a woman reached out to me on Facebook because she was dating Daniel Rhinehardt and he was scaring her. She heard about me and wanted to know if “it was all true”. He had told her that he had a record, but said that I had cheated on him or some other nonsense, which is ridiculous for several reasons (we were not dating, gross, and if ever we were- HOW DOES THAT JUSTIFY ATTACKING A WOMAN!?) lots of red flags on that one, but this woman didn’t see them until too late. I did warn her, and she got away, or so I was told. But a few months later he was arrested for assault on a female, and she had a broken jaw. I don’t know if they are the same, but I’ve got decent powers of deduction.

He was arrested another time as well, as I was informed via mugshot (I don’t ever need to see that face again, thank you, but there it was) for another assault on a female. I don’t know the story, I don’t want to know… and I probably already know. It’s a pattern. I recognize patterns.

I mentioned that I’ve run into him. That’s god-awful. I have another friend who looks vaguely like him, which leads to a cute comedy of errors, that still involves a PTSD meltdown for me. I am getting better about it, and this friend knows what I am really asking if I say “Are you at Restaurant X? Or Hey, are you downtown?” because I am giving myself a precious few seconds hoping for a “yes, that’s me!” and then relief… though usually it ends up with me hyperventilating somewhere else, after having run off, literally without thinking.

But, Valerie! You’re usually so positive about things! What is the silver lining of all this?

No. I’m not there yet, but I am getting there. There is something horrible about having someone try to kill you. Someone you trusted. Something that breaks inside you and will never be the same. It’s strange to have a moment when someone else decided they wanted to control your fate, your life, and by control I mean try to fuck it up horrifically, or just… end it. Someone tried to end me. Me. That damaged my psyche for a long time… maybe permanently, though I have put my own spin on it.

There is something about this incident that left me feeling like less of a person, I was to another human being (no matter how terrible a person): dispensable. I will always struggle with that, copying it over to other relationships with decent enough people, this disposability. I don’t have inherently low self esteem or anything, but as I mentioned before, something, some trust in human decency… broke. And I’ve never been able to put it back together right.

I worry that I give this incident too much weight, but I swear to you, fereverently, it weighs only as much as it does. But that fluctuates. Am I digging up the past to make drama? No. I am trying to explain how I got here, how I became the person I am. I am always trying to accept this. Accept the reactions of the people around me. (The local paper referred to me, anonymously, as having been “stabbed in the buttocks”. This led to a weird sort of dark comedy, because how silly it all sounded. Some people would latch onto that, I would sometimes try to laugh about it too, a forced laugh. It was really horrific to have some friends very close to me miss the seriousness of my situation because of one shitty line of reporting. I laughed along, but I was really, really broken about that for a while.)

Trying to explain to a beautiful new friend that I am fine now, but I was not always fine, and that I fought like hell to be the shining happy blueberry girl that I get to be today. But I, like any woman who has ever stepped forward and said: “Hold on, this man did X to me”, I feel like I am fighting a world that will not believe me, despite as my lawyer mentioned, the overwhelming amount of proof, evidence, the fact that this did happen, is documented, and yet people still turn a blind eye, or make excuses. It is maddening. It is soul destroying.

I have people I meet who inadvertently overstep. (I have a creepy neighbour who was following that pattern of violence I mentioned, and I am completely terrified of him.) I still have trouble dealing with them. Almost always men. Men who want to get too close, who miss social cues, who are creepy, who seem to want something from me. I am working on accepting that a man who is interested in me, when I am not interested in him, is not necessarily a threat. They are not all threats. They are not going to try to murder you just because you turn them down. But I am not there yet. I am still working on that. It’s a work in progress...

My positive spin? Pragmatism. I have a deeply ingrained understanding that tomorrow is promised to no one. So now, while I do so responsibly, I am pretty good about going after what I want, in good ways. It took me awhile to work back to this, but I have found a healthy balance of being responsible, and chasing after whimsy because who knows, the world could end tomorrow. My friend, who I mentioned at the top, told me once that I was brave, having caught up to him on a random adventure by myself on the other side of the world. Bravery never occurred to me. It was a factor, sure, I’m brave, but it was really: “No, I want to see this friend. And I could die next week.” I don’t think like that… not really, that I might die next week, month, year… but at the same time I do, but with different wording. I just think “I want this experience in my life, and now might be the only chance I get, so I am going to make it happen to the best of my ability.”

Also, I adventure. I do incredible things, and my life has been pretty spectacular so far. I am proud of the work I have done, the art I have made, and I treasure the friendships I’ve found and the experiences I’ve had. That is my revenge. Daniel Rhinehardt tried to end me. Tried to irreversibly ruin my life, and he failed. And, while it took some time to pull my parts back together, I have done more than just survive him, I have thrived.

A friend mentioned that to me after I had a particularly good day recently (I played puppets with my art hero and fairygodfather, who I will not mention here for the same google search result reasons), she said something along the lines of “You’re doing a lot more than just surviving.” It caught me off guard, I forgot she even knew about my whole getting-stabbed incident… I don’t mind people knowing, it is a part of who I am now. I thought about it, and said “yes.” It’s true. That’s my goal. That’s what I am doing. And I’m okay with that.

I have mentioned a few times that one of the impetus of this tirade of tragedy is this new friend of mine, who is learning English, so I wanted to have this written down, messy as it may be, so that I am not dumping a bunch of English words on him with a context that is not easily understood with new words, (and made up words as I try to describe messy feelings not found in a textbook)… but also for my English speaking friends, because I’ve never really unloaded the whole story, or even this much of the story to anyone… I am open to sharing it, but really, sharing it is exhausting. I get a weird surge of adrenaline when I explain it, but that adrenaline is coming from fear, mistrust, vulnerability… and it just vibrates through my system with no outlet until I realize I don’t want it. I don’t need it. I’m just wiped out.

But this friend. I am going to visit him and others in a different location, still on the other side of the world, in a few months. We met in Japan, so why not continue meeting in far off countries where I have a clumsy or nearly nonexistent grasp of the language? What could possibly go wrong? I was explaining this to my mother a week or so ago, my trip plans, dates I’m looking at, etc, and she asked me (supportively) a very motherly question: “Do you trust this person?”

And I answered without even thinking, or maybe I did think, but it was reactionary: “Yes. Implicitly.” I told her. And he’s not the first stranger-turned-friend that I have trusted implicitly, there have been several over the past few years. Like-minded individuals who I am introduced to, or who I stumble upon and I get them, they get me, and I trust them inherently, implicitly, and with all my heart. This has been years in the works, to get back to this point, where I can just accept a person who is good, who will look out for me, who cares for me without wanting anything in return. A mutual trust and vulnerability. I am lucky to have this back.

I am in a good place now. I have been in a good place for a while. This series of terrible moments from ten years ago left a mark, and changed who I am, but also changed me into who I am today. And I am happy with the person I ended up as. I’m not thanking any horrific person for trying to kill me, goodness no. He’s a terrible human being, and every woman should stay well away from him.

I guess there is one thing undeniably positive thing I have taken away from this horrific series of events. I’ve been through some rough times in my life since then, but nothing ever like that. And to all of it I have been able to say: “I’ve survived worse than this.”

And it’s gotten me through a lot.

It has sort of changed my perspective, it can sometimes be a comfort or a place of strength.

Also, I quietly know that I would win every argument of “worst housemate ever”.

That’s it, really. No overarching summary or call to action… maybe “be kind.” Try being a good person to each other, and if you see someone leaning towards violence, stop it. Call the cops, I don’t like cops either, but you shut that down when you see it. Put it on their record. Give them a record. They’ve earned it. Make them show up in that cursory google search.

Give the next woman a fighting chance.

afterward, another reason why I wrote this, as I explained in my letter to my aforementioned friend:

...and I remember thinking to myself: "oh, scars..." and looking at you and wishing this information was already in your head, but no, I would have to put it there. So I said something like: "there is not enough time" and I left it there. But I hope you also know, from having met me, that I'm alright now. I wasn't for a while. But I am now.

I hope you all understand.

#domestic violence #metoo #me too #assault #tw #it gets better #ten years later #tenyearsago #birthday #violence #violence against women

18 notes · View notes

savrenim · 6 years

Text

I keep almost opening tumblr to write a Big Long Post About My Life Because Goddamnit This Place Used To Be My Diary Until Suddenly I Got Involved In The H*milton Fandom And A Whole Bunch Of Strangers Started Following Me, and then, like. suddenly got more self-conscious. as well as better at dealing with stuff in my life so I haven’t really felt the need to vent, when did I become a semi-responsible semi-functional adult. but you know what? what the hell. there are things that I actually vaguely do want to vent about because dear gods has my life Been Ridiculous of late.

I am approximately 3/4 the person that I used to be? which is a dramatic way of stating that I used to be about 200lbs, I didn’t actually know because in theory I’ve aggressively avoided scales since high school because I used to have pretty bad anorexia and then orthorexia and binge eating then, it got better after I decided I don’t care about anything physical and just cut off all thoughts about anything like that and refused to acknowledge anything more than following the rule of eating three meals a day, but in practice I go to the doctor yearly and can access my medical records online and every once in a while can check with a friend and being steady over the last year or two meant that I was about 200lbs.

I was 153lbs the last time I checked, and I’ve been checking weekly just to make sure that I Don’t Keep Drastically Losing Weight, because this has all been since March. not even the beginning of March, the second half of March. I almost definitely lost thirty pounds in a month, a month and a half. and then have at least been losing weight more slowly after that? it has been fucking insane and I hated every second of it, wheeeee. (what happened in March was I got sick with the flu, couldn’t eat for a week, lost a fair bit of weight from that, and then my appetite/taste buds solidly shifted after only eating lentil soup back to super healthy vegetarian rice and beans and what-not that I’d been eating at the beginning of the school year, instead of take-out type deal, and I was actually getting sleep and going to more Tai Chi and every other week my car was breaking down so I was walking places a bunch and sudden lots of exercise + change in diet + not as stressed as first semester and getting sleep actually is a fairly healthy way to lose weight?)

but boooooy did it freak me out when I suddenly fit into jeans from the start of college that I had kept thinking I’d never fit into them again because Holy Fuck All Of My I’m Starving And Am Going To Die instincts kicked in and all of my actual close friends are online friends which meant besides one comment from a Tai Chi instructor directly after I’d been out for three weeks from slowly recovering from the flu (which actually was the nicest way anyone has ever commented on my weight, it was an “oh you’ve lost weight” “yeah I had the flu pretty bad, that’s where I’ve been for three weeks, couldn’t eat for a week and have been slowly getting back to solid meals” “oh yeah that really sucks, happened to a friend of mine last year, I think there are still pictures it’s scary” instead of a well you look good response, Thomas P is great and I love him) but absolutely no one was commenting and it made me feel like I was going crazy and I had no idea how much I weighed so how much I should be freaking out and no data even to compare that against, which was why I eventually broke and got a scale so that I could at least have datapoints and figure out when I was steady again because gods I just wanted to be steady

and, like, that was one of the literal worst parts of losing weight in high school, it was ballooning from 100lbs to 200lbs and all the not-so-subtle judgement from my mother when I came back various breaks during college and the number of times I had to threaten not to come back at all if she so much as commented on my weight so she found other ways of commenting about “why are you skipping aikido tonight, you only have so many times to go to the studio before you’re back east,” and, like, the constant fight of her either deciding to pay for my food or that she wouldn’t pay for any of it because I ate too much of it, and then, like. after having lost so much weight needing to get new bras and honestly some new clothes despite the fact that I haven’t bought fitted clothes since the very start of college because I’ve just been so fucking afraid of my weight ballooning again and not being able to fit into anything, considering I don’t really have money to drop on a new wardrobe as I get everything as cheap as possible or hand-me-down anyways and then wheeee that brought up all the shitty memories from high school where my mother refused to get me a new uniform when I weighed too much for my old one so I spent a year squeezing into skirts that left imprints on my waist and wearing long sweaters to cover the fact that I couldn’t zip them up, and, like. suddenly losing weight also triggered the fear of am I going to gain it all back then more and be stuck with a wardrobe that even though it was designed loose in the first place, still won’t fit me, which is ridiculous because I’m steadying out and it’s not like my diet or patterns are going to change again, just. gods have these past few months brought up a fair bit of past trauma and I a little bit wish more people had reached out to me and responded but I bugged the right people and they hella listened and made sure enough that old instincts and old fears didn’t get involved and, like. I like this body? I’m more flexible and my balance is a bit better and I can punch differently but just as well and I need to get used to groundfighting and throws with it but lack of mass is made up for in other ways. gods I love Tai Chi and it is the one thing that has kept me sane through all of this because no matter what my body looks like the thing that’s been most important to me is that physically, I’m dangerous, and that’s not about weight. that’s about strength, that’s about training, I’m in that studio now eight hours a week because that is the maximum number of classes they have for adults and I can practice on my own and just. the one time that I feel fiercely okay and goddamn happy about the fact that I have a physical form is knowing that if someone messes with me, I can defend myself, and proving it to myself over and over and over.

but yeah that’s been going on.

then there are the kittens can you tell how much my life has been made better by the kittens, I love these kittens so much, the story behind the kittens is that I saw a cat meowing outside, thought it was a stray kitten because of how small and starving it looked but knocked on doors to see if it belonged to any of my neighbors before I just took it to a vet type deal, and it belonged to the woman behind the first door I knocked on, who asked me why, do you want her, which I thought was weird, then said woman shouted at me from her window as I was taking out trash that seriously, this cat just had three kittens, she needed money and to get rid of them, was I interested in buying any of them off her, I was just going to get Talvus and then it was a combo of “she gave me the kitten at 4 weeks which then I couldn’t get him to eat anything because he hadn’t been weaned yet and kittens can’t be separated from the rest of their litter until 12 or 13 weeks or they don’t socialize correctly” that just. waaaasn’t good. as well as the other two kittens were adorable and I’d named them and it seemed for a little while like my girlfriend might be able to take one so I went “listen just give me all three at 8 weeks once they’re weaned and I’ll take it from there”

and I’m so fucking glad I did this

she was keeping all three of them in a cage most of the time, they weren’t using her litter box because she was barely cleaning it so she was surprised to hear they weren’t peeing all over my house, I’m actually taking them to get vaccinated and spayed/neutered which I can only afford because the Friends of Animals program exists but also, holy fuck have I been spending a lot of my savings between kittens and needing to drive everyone everywhere so a whole bunch of tolls and gas money to my fiance staying with me for a bit but that both meant buying more expensive groceries than I usually do because she eats meat as well as a whole bunch of errands to run and little things that add up (and then she got strep and just. it was a nightmare.)

right my car has been breaking down too, that’s been exciting, thank you my grandfather for dying and leaving enough inheritance-wise that I have been able to afford getting a different used car despite wheee leaking money left and right this summer but fixing up this one consistently because if I don’t I’m even More Fucked despite it not being worth it has legitimately burned through a solid quarter of my savings. like. I don’t have the right to say that I’m worried about money because I do still have some savings and a stipend coming in each month from research that pays for food and groceries so it’s not like it’s gotten tight so much as I have had to just deal with savings exist because sometimes emergencies come up and you Gotta Spend Them and hopefully I’ll save more next year and having a car that doesn’t break down every other month is going to help

considering the old car is in now perfect working condition I’m giving it to a friend of mine for $300 with the stipulation that if it breaks down at all over the next year I will refund them any of that $300 that they don’t make selling it to a junkyard because I didn’t want to waste a perfectly fine working car and my friends are even more poor than me I just. also am hemorrhaging money left and right and gods maybe that will help.

my fiance and I figured out that we’re probably never going to live together. from a combination of we have very, very different schedules to she needs so much structure in her life that slowly wears away at my spoons to not even give it to her but to re-arrange my own schedule and contribute to the logistics of her making it happen for herself, like, I can sit at the table in my apartment and work for eight hours on research and pause because there’s food in my kitchen to grab a thing to eat, she needed to go to a coffee shop every morning to be able to concentrate because if it wasn’t going out with a goal of doing something and being somewhere she wouldn’t be able to concentrate and it would mess up the entire day, which, like. wasn’t terrible because I usually walk for coffee anyways and can work anywhere but having that be a Necessary Logistic that I Have To Push For In The Morning Because God Help Anyone Who Tries To Wake The Sleeping Dragon (even though said sleeping dragon prefers to be on schedules where she wakes up at 6:30am, unlike my usual 10:00am, and we tried to compromise for 8:30am but guess who was the one who was always up first because I actually listen to my alarm and then dear gods is it stressful to wake people up)

(as well as this is not all her, it is also me, like. I need everything to be perfectly organized in terms of logistics so if someone hasn’t eaten yet it will bug me so I will ping them every half an hour of “you’ve forgotten to eat lunch, can we make lunch happen for you,” or there is a very specific state of clean that I need the apartment to be, or I’m incredibly antisocial at times, I can’t deal with someone touching me or fall asleep next to them if I’m stressed or if it’s hot so spent a couple of nights on the couch, as well as I’m picky about exactly the way the chores get done so needed to do all of them, the tl;dr is I think I have discovered my ideal living situation is living alone, at least most of the time and maybe having a house to visit on weekends, because I love her and love to spend time with her but also need a lot of space and long periods of quiet to do the work that I need to get done)

which, like

absolutely none of this is detrimental to our actual plans for our relationship, considering our actual plans are “we both are very busy people, she actually does have a group of people that she lives with very very well and that actively work well into her schedule, I have my kittens and my math and my facetime and my weekends with people, and the basis of our relationship is the commitment and the external alliance and the face that we present the world as well as the fun of getting to be gay and go on cute dates every once in a while, it’s not that we live well or lifestyle well together, it’s that we powercouple well together, so pick and choose the things that work and keep those.” which also works really well for she’s thinking of raising kids and I’m probably going to bounce around location-wise in post doc positions for a while before I find somewhere I might be able to settle with tenure, and, like. that’s not a good environment to raise kids in.

(we’re poly. we’re so poly. can you tell how poly we are. it’s one of the things that solidly makes us work, because we don’t have to force the other one to be everything, she’s found someone that she solidly likes that we’re calling prospective duckling papa, I also solidly like this person, so. kids might actually be a thing on the actual horizon, although probably not in the house that I’m spending most of my time, so that’s interesting. and terrifying. and expensive. and hopefully at least five years away.)

and then also I...finally had a conversation with a friend that I’ve been meaning to have for a while? that I really hope and I really think I did get across the whole “I care about our friendship the way that society mostly expects people to care about and be committed to romantic relationships, which is almost why it’s weird to just call you a friend which is why we are having this conversation, not because I Am In Romantic Love With You Again” of basically just “considering I’ve been thinking about and mapping out the actual relationships in my life and the ones that are steady and that are going to stick around, you know that I love you, right, and that you’re one of the ones that I really really want to stick around” and, like

gods do I love this person so much. and just....the role they have played in my life over the years? the way that I can talk to them and the things that I can talk to them about and share with them and math and physics and stories and DnD stories because gods do I rant about that to anyone who will listen and they get it pretty bad, oops, but they put up with it. and just the sum of who they are to me right now? is one of the most important people in my life. and I get so self-conscious of “but do I mean anything back to you at all, of course no one cares about me and this is Entirely One Sided but that’s okay I’ve always been the person who was going to jump in front of the bullet because I go more intense than other people” but, like. besides the friends that actively know that they are surrogate siblings to me. There’s my fiance, that I trust actually loves me as much as I love her, because we are very gay and we talk about it all the time. There’s another friend that is actually one of the few people that I’m physically comfortable with because both (a) he is as asexual as me so I can actually make out or cuddle with him while knowing that there is zero interest in sex happening in the encounter, and (b) has spent years slowly setting boundaries and slowly negotiating comfort levels together and has been an amazing friend and fantastic part of my life in other ways and, like, so yeah, I love him, and he’s well aware of that, and he loves me, and I’m not self-conscious about that, but, just.

there is this part of me that always goes “nope you don’t matter to people” or at least the people that matter to me unless I have Lots Of Data to back it up and you know what I have fucking data to back this one up and this person explicitly told me that they care about me too

and it bothers me to love a person a bunch and then go “but oh gods I need to be so careful and delicate about saying it because what if They Get The Wrong Message and I don’t want to make things awkward on their end” which also is complete bullshit because this person has heard me talk about how I think and feel about things for years so if anyone is going to actually know that I’m not lying or sidestepping the truth in what I mean when I say I love them it’s going to be them but just. I guess time to build up the confidence that it is okay to directly express how much I care about this person the way that I have gotten comfortable expressing the way I care about other people in my inner circle because at least now I have their word that they know, they’re okay with it, they care about me right back too type deal

and that is all the drama that has been going on in my life

#my life #weight loss for tw #shitty family for tw #past eating disorder mention for tw #come listen to me rant about my relationships and sort-of problems if you want #none of those problems are related to the weight loss by the way #that's a separate problem #woot woot #you know what #fox tag #because why not actually throw something in there associated with the person that it was originally made for instead of the in-joke #that the pictures of foxes became #gods it feels good to actually vent

13 notes · View notes

davina-wolfthorne · 6 years

Text

So let me tell you about my Monday

WARNING; below the line is a mini story about my Monday. It contains strong language, some humor, a handsome albino bunny, and freaking newborn kittens.

Mondays are the very bane of everyone’s existence. I have yet to meet someone who actually enjoys Mondays, and if you are one of those people you’re nuts! I digress though. It is the day that marks the first of many days in work hell. My Monday was actually a Wednesday two weeks ago. I’ve been going non-stop for two weeks. Barely at my desk or in my comfort zone. Running errands, and taking care of responsibilities. Even on the weekends! It’s been endless. Well yesterday (Monday) was ‘suppose’ to be my day off.....

I end up having to run to the local gas station, because money came in and I had to withdraw some cash. Okay well that wasn’t so bad right? My Monday doesn’t stop there. Three days ago the squatters that lived off the to the left of my house finally was forced to move out. Friday they apparently released their pet albino bunny onto the street and tried to chase it up the road! So this bunny has been outside, and neglected for three days. I invest myself in this bunny’s life. I grab the head of lettuce out of my fridge, and my neighbor brings over a dish of water. It’s in the fenced yard next door (where the squatters and it lived) I’d like to take a moment to point out that these people weren’t even allowed to have pets according to the Humane Society in my area. So this pieces of shit not only were ordered not to have animals (they use to own a shit ton of dogs and cats, and kept them all in the house. Never let the animals out to piss or shit. So they were ordered to not have pets anymore) but dumped this poor defenseless bunny outside. What happens to white animals then they’re born in the wild, and don’t live in winter regions? They typically are abandoned because their white coat is a risk. They have no camouflage to protect them. So this little guy has had a rough three days. His back right foot is swollen to three times its usual size. I’m not vet, but I think it was broken because when he walked he would lean all his weight on the left foot and tuck the wounded one against him. We have a lot of stray cats in our neighborhood. How he managed to survive three days with a wounded foot in a cat heavy area is beyond me, but he has a strong spirit.

I call the humane society in my area. Let me start off by saying this place is a piece of fucking shit. They never help stray animals that aren’t dogs, and they refuse to take in an animal if it is sick or wounded. We’ve called them in the past about stray cats needing medical attention, and they always ignore it. But when we call about dog neglect they jump on it. In my city you will see a lot of cats but NEVER a stray dog. Now I don’t know if other cities are like this, but I know that it is fucked up for them not to take care of all strays. Anyway I call them, and this woman answers. I won’t use her real name so I’ll just call her bitch #1, and yes I am using the term bitch, because she was rude. I ask if they can send a humane officer to come get him. She speaks in a snooty voice ‘I’ll give the information to them’. So we hang up, and I had forgot to mention to bitch #1 that the bunny is injured and needs care. So I call back and the same woman picks up. ‘He’s wounded. His back right foot is really swelled and he doesn’t put any weight on it. I think that it might be broken.’ and she sounded rude when she gave her reply. Like I was bothering her by calling her. We hang up again.

So we pick him up and carry him to our front porch to guard him for the time being. Let me tell you that he is the sweetest bunny ever. He was so passive and docile. He let us hold him. Not once did he thrash or try to nip/get away. Just the biggest sweet heart. How anyone could ever want to harm an animal is beyond me. Especially something this pure. I call the humane office back, and inquire as to if they’ll be able to pick him up because it’s been a while. A new lady picks up, and I’m going to call her Susan because she actually wasn’t that bad to deal with. I gave her the run down since she doesn’t know what’s going on. She informs me that they cannot come out and pick up the bunny. I ask her ‘if I can get a friend to take me to the humane society will you accept him?’ She instructs me to hold on, and that she has to ask. Bitch #2, a new bitch look at that, picks up the phone. In a rather flat, and uncaring tone, she proceeds to tell me that they cannot help this bunny at all. Despite being a humane society [A humane society is a group that aims to stop human or animal suffering due to cruelty or other reasons. In many countries, the term is used mostly for societies for the prevention of cruelty to animals] they cannot help him. Nor can they seem to help other animals (a good friend of mine informed me she’s called them in the past numerous times about animal neglect and they never came out. In the past she also wanted them to take a wounded stray cat and they told her and I quote ‘You can bring it in and use our vet and pay for it, but we won’t take it after’ The fuck?) Here is how she proceeded;

Bitch #2 - Just so you know all our humane officers have full time jobs so we don’t even know when they’ll come out to get it. There are many sad cases out there before yours. If you’re that worried about it take it to the vet, but good luck finding a vet that will take a bunny. You should try a rescue that will take it.

Okay so I hang up with Bitch #2 after basically coming to the conclusion that they don’t want this bunny. It’s not that they can’t take it, because I know of other humane societies that take all types of animals. After some Googling I find this place called Rabbit Wranglers in Pittsburgh PA. I called, but got an answering machine. So I left them a message of my name, number, and telling them about the bunny. I begged them to call me even if they can’t take him. The owner, Suaz, calls back and asks me some things about him. She tells me she has to go check to see if someone can pick him up. We hang up and two hours later, full of worrying, she calls back. Fantastic news! She told me that if she couldn’t find a volunteer to drive out that she’d come out and get him. GREAT! That means this little sweet heart can get medical attention, and find a loving home. But something happened between that two hour window.

As if my Monday wasn’t stressful enough trying to find a place to rescue the bunny (thank goodness for R.W and Suaz) this little girl decides to add to the list. Meet Bear, a stray tabby we rescued back in October. I know I don’t often talk about my animals because I don’t want to spam people with them (and I would spam so much because ya know...cats) This March we had set up an appointment for her to be fixed, and guess what happened two days before her appointment? She slips out and comes home pregnant. Bear only managed to escape because this woman came to see someone in my house, and was informed that we would have to get the person to wake up. She wouldn’t let us close the front door and Bear slipped right out.

ANYWAY so this little hussy comes home pregnant. Two months later, and on the already chaotic Monday, she goes into labor....IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LIVING ROOM AND JUST FUCKING PLOPS ONE RIGHT OUT THEN AND THERE. Like blood and fluid THEN BOOM BABY. Unfortunately it was born stillborn. We tried CPR and gentle compression’s on its chest, but it couldn’t be saved. It was so small, and it wasn’t even fully formed. She gets scared of what is happening to her, and runs under the couch. Guess who had to make love to the couch with her face to fetch the expecting mother? This girl right here. Yes I am pointing to myself....

I pick her up and rush her into the bathroom. We already had her birthing blanket, and area ready. We even laid down bed pee pads (they’re like puppy pads but for people to use on their bed) on the ground to soak up any fluids. I got into the bathroom with my mother (Yes I live with my mother. Back into 2000 she was in a bad car accident and it left her disabled. So I live with her to help take care of her.) and we sit there with Bear while she’s having contractions. This little girl knows what happened to her first baby. She lays down on her side, and this expression of depression just settles on her sweet dainty face. Her wide eyes just look so hollow and empty as she stares at her blanket. It is the most heart wrenching things I’ve ever seen. It crushed my heart. She soon goes into another contraction, and ends up having a second baby. I’m too afraid to know its fate because at this moment in time we already had one stillborn, and we were still waiting to hear back from Rabbit Wranglers. So I didn’t even know the bunny’s fate. Let me clarify for a moment that we would love to take the bunny in, and give him a home, but two reasons why we can’t. 1) Bunnies and rabbits are very expensive pets. V’lerie ( @warqote-val ) said that they can cost from 100 to 150 USD a month. Hell she said that number may not even be fully accurate. We’re on a tight budget, and have three cats to take care of with more on the way. We cannot afford a bunny. 2) We have cats. That right there is the biggest reason for me. Skeeter, our male tabby, is a natural born hunter. Gothy, our black cat, is a lazy turd bird and doesn’t hunt. Skeeter does. He’s caught and cornered things in the past. He is a hunter to his core. I don’t want a bunny being subjected to the stress of sharing a house with cats. The very predators that have been stalking it now for days.

When I leave the bathroom I get a call from Suaz. She tells me she’ll try to get a volunteer to come out, and if she couldn’t then she would drive herself. Now to give you a relative idea as to why this is such a big deal; Pittsburgh is forty-five minutes to an hour away from my city. The worry that she may say no because of distance was a big factor in my mind. Thankfully though she said they’ll come out ans rescue him. THANK GOD OR WHATEVER DIVINE BEINGS THERE ARE! The first silver lining animal related of the day. Someone will come get him, and he’ll finally be safe. His suffering will be over, and he can get the care of love he has always deserved. Suaz tells us to put him in a cat carrier until she can make it over to us. So I usher him into the carrier so he can’t roam off, and for his safety because the strays have began searching for him. I am charged with the task of sitting outside with him while we wait for Suaz.

Meanwhile my mother has been with Bear during all of this. She comes outside every now and again for a smoke break, and to give me updates. The second kitten that she had, the one she gave birth to when I was running out of the bathroom like the little bitch I am, is stillborn. That makes two still born with more on the way. Needless to say my hopes weren’t very high for this litter. It looked really grim. I remain on the porch to wait with the bunny (whom at this point I named Roger. Shuddup I’m fucking corny and punny like that).

While I am on the porch waiting guess who calls? The local humane society that refused to help the bunny. Bitch #3 tells me rather flippantly that all the officers are busy and cannot make it out. Um okay? Do y’all not talk to each other, because Bitch #2 informed me that you don’t take rabbits and bunnies and couldn’t send anyone out. I say don’t worry and tell Bitch #3 that I took their advice and called Rabbit Wranglers. Informing her that he’ll be rescued by then. She turned up her bitch dial and got incredibly rude. Then asked if we had put him in a carrier. I tell the truth and say yes because that’s what we were told to do. Bitch #3 goes, and I quote, “well it’s your responsibility now since you put him in a carrier. He’s your problem to deal with.” Okay get off your soap box bitch before I knock your ass off. Y’all had no intention to help the bunny, and now you’re getting pissed that I made other arrangements like I was fucking told to do. Nah bitch sit the hell down and shut up. I hang up, and wash my hands of them. They’re a shitty humane society, and don’t deserve the right to carry that title.

After that frustrating encounter some good news came! Bear had her third baby, and it’s alive! THE FIRST LIVE ONE! I’m fucking ecstatic like you would not believe. So I rush into the bathroom, and sure enough it is a tuxedo kitten. So fresh to this world and so fucking precious. It was squirming and nuzzling up to feed while Bear was licking it to dry the wee thing off.

I go outside to wait with the bunny so mom can be with her cat. Over the course of three hours I chilled with the bunny. Feeding him lettuce and keeping him company. Over this time mom keeps me updated on Bear. She’s doing splendidly and is giving birth like a mother fucking champ. So far by the time 8pm rolls around she has had five babies. Two stillborn, but three are alive and nursing eagerly. She’s still in labor.

8pm comes, and Suaz arrives at my home. She’s such a nice woman with a kind soul. She actually thanks my mother and I over and over for saving the bunny, and calling her. I give her some money for gas to show my way of thanks and gratitude. Y’all she didn’t need to do this. She could have told us that it was too far out of their reach to help him, but she didn’t. She drove all that way, came and picked him up, and she probably didn’t get back home until around 10pm. Suaz tells us that she’s going to take great care of him. When she gets him home he’ll get some pain killers for his wounded foot, and that tomorrow (now today) he’ll be seeing the vet to see what they can do about his injury. That is a major weight off my fucking chest. She actually encouraged us to call her and ask for updates on him! Which I fully intend to do.

Finally at 9pm I walk in through the front door, and go check on the new mother. She has three kittens nuzzling to her, and doesn’t seem to be having anymore contractions. So I make myself some dinner, and sit down to relax. Well around 11 I go downstairs to check up on them and my mom to see if she needs anything to drink. We go outside for a few minutes, and when we come back in we check up on Bear. There’s blood on the pee pads. Mom is under the impression that it was just the afterbirth. I go closer, and inspect, and sure enough there is another kitten! This makes kitten number six and makes the fourth living one. She took care of it all by herself! I want to mention that with the fifth born my mother had to do CPR on it, and brought it back to life. This one Bear took care of when no one was around. We breathe a sigh of relief because mama and the babies are doing well. She looks finished and is finally resting with the newborns.

We go to bed.

5am rolls around and I wake up for about the third time over night because I couldn’t sleep well. I made sure each time I woke up to go downstairs and check on them. Each time they’re doing fine! Well around 7am I am awake enough to where we make a whelping box for her. We hadn’t at this point because when Gothy had given birth seven years ago we made her a whelping box and she didn’t use it at all. I wanted Bear to feel like she wasn’t confined or cramped. We make this box and lay down a fresh blanket. We load them all up into the box, and when we rummage through the folds of the birthing blanket we find a seventh kitten! Overnight she had one more, and this one had ventured off, Bear is such a good mother she actually doesn’t want to leave the other living four to pick it up and put it back with her. The seventh is alive and doing well! I place it back with her and Bear happily accepts it.

So these are the tiny jelly beans that consumed most of my day/evening yesterday. Two tuxedos, and three tabbies. The tabby on the bottom right is the one who had lost its way from Bear.

2 notes · View notes

ezatluba · 4 years

Photo

It’s time to start preparing Fluffy and Fido for post-pandemic life

Elizabeth Chang

NOVEMBER 30, 2020

It might seem too soon to think about preparing pets for the time humans will return to offices and schools. After all, a coronavirus vaccine isn’t expected to be widely available until spring at the earliest, which means that most Americans who were sent home to work or study remotely will remain there for at least several more months.

But according to animal expert Zazie Todd, author of “Wag: The Science of Making Your Dog Happy,” the eventual separation will be easier for pets “if you make changes gradually, starting potentially a long time beforehand.” So, in the spirit of doing what’s best for four-legged family members, we asked several experts how to prepare our pets and, let’s face it, ourselves to spend weekdays without one another’s company.

In addition to Todd, we spoke with Clive Wynne, psychology professor and director of the Canine Science Collaboratory at Arizona State University and the author of “Dog Is Love: Why and How Your Dog Loves You,” and Monique Udell, an associate professor in the Department of Animal and Rangeland Sciences at Oregon State University who has done research on cats and dogs. We also emailed with Alexandra Horowitz, who runs the Dog Cognition Lab at Barnard College and whose most recent book is “Our Dogs, Ourselves.” Here are their answers to some common questions.

Will my pets be okay when our house is suddenly empty during the day?

“The good news,” Todd said, “is that probably they will be okay for things to go back.” But if you’ve been with your pet 24/7 and are suddenly going to be gone for a large chunk of each weekday, she added, “that’s a huge change” that should be introduced gradually. Dogs and cats relish routine, Todd said. “They would prefer to get their meals at the same time every day. And your dog would rather go for walks at the same time every day.”

Wynne agreed that pets are adaptable but warned that they do have their limits. Owners should be careful: “not to push them beyond the range of what a dog, an animal, can be expected to tolerate.”

Wynne said your pet will let you know if you’ve crossed that line. “In each of these things, it’s about taking small steps and watching your animal to see that your animal is comfortable before pushing any further, and always trying to stop the process while everybody is still relaxed and comfortable.”

If you’re a cat owner who thinks none of this applies to you, think again. “I would say that cats may often actually have a stronger emotional or behavioral response to change than dogs,” Udell said, though we might not notice those reactions. Although we often think of dogs as the more social pets, Udell said, “cats can be very social, and they can engage in a lot of deep social interactions with people, whether that be petting and cuddling or play.”

What steps should I take to gradually prepare my pets for this change?

The experts advised establishing a routine that’s close to the one you will keep when life goes back to “normal.” Think about when you wake up and go to bed, when you feed them — even, Udell said, the temperature of your house and the light-dark cycle. Then, gradually include some alone time for your pets. That might be tough if you’re in an area where you’re supposed to be sticking close

to home, Todd acknowledged. “In a worst-case scenario, it might be going and sitting in your car or going for a walk for half an hour, just so that your pet gets some time on their own,” she said.

[Dogs, too, can find the pandemic disorienting]

You might have to break some habits. Walking your dog more than usual? Consider whether your pet really needs those extra walks, Horowitz said; if so, make accommodations for your dog to get them when you’re back at work. Enjoy taking the dog with you when you run a quick errand? Consider leaving your pet at home. “I love taking my dog along with me on those rare occasions when I go out,” Wynne said. But “it would be better for the dog to be reminded that I may go away, and I may go away at unpredictable times for unpredictable lengths of time, but that the world continues to be stable, and I will always come back.”

If you’ve been paying more attention to your cat because you’ve been home, you shouldn’t suddenly eliminate that engagement when you go back to work, Udell said. Instead, she suggested, start shifting those interactions to times of the day when you’ll be available post-pandemic.

And keep in mind that your pet might not be as devastated as you fear. Wynne noted that although pets enjoy interacting with people, they also need to sleep about 12 or 14 hours a day. “So if a dog has been in such a busy household that it’s overstimulated,” he said, “it’s probably just going to be grateful to get a bit more sleep.”

What about pets purchased or adopted during the pandemic? This is all they know.

“We don’t know for certain, but most likely they will have a harder time, because they haven’t experienced those routines before,” Todd said. That means you need to expose them to being alone even more gradually than the pets you owned before the pandemic, she said. “Don’t just go out for a two-hour walk and leave them home alone when they’ve never been left home alone before.”

[I hated dogs, but I hated the pandemic more. Would a puppy help?]

“Start with pointless walks around the block without your dog — just 10 minutes,” Wynne suggested. “And make sure every day you take a pointless 10-minute stroll without the dog, perverse as that will feel, and let the dog get used to this.” Then start building up the length of time you leave the dog alone.

Both Todd and Udell counseled that the once-common advice to ignore your pet when leaving or returning is out of date. Making a fuss over your dog or cat upon your return does not cause separation anxiety, Todd said. “What your animal needs,” Udell said, “is for you to be accurately responsive to their needs.”

As for pandemic kittens, Udell wasn’t convinced that they will have a harder time adjusting, because they’ve had such intensive socialization. “Meeting those needs early in that relationship and being very available and present might actually help develop a more resilient cat that does better in your absence,” she said. How new pets will react is a “giant social question that we’re all going to be experiencing at the same time,” she added. “But I’m hoping for the positive outcome.”

What if my pet barks, urinates or chews things when I’m gone?

“If the animal shows signs of distress, like, you know, peeing inappropriately and crying or barking uncontrollably, then I would take a step back, and I would reduce the intensity of what you’re trying to do,” Wynne said. “If your dog is so distressed, even by you going out for 10 minutes, just go out the door, count to 10 and come back in. And once that works, go out the door and count to 20 and come back in. Baby steps.”

Horowitz suggested ensuring that dogs get their exercise before you leave. “This could include some long play bouts, not just walks. And give them something to do when you’re gone. ‘Chewing’ happens because they don’t have anything interesting (and permissible) to chew on.”

And if I try these suggestions and the behavior continues?

“If your dog or cat is soiling while you’re out, it is not necessarily separation anxiety; it could be a medical issue,” Todd said. “So, it is important to get them checked at the vet,” because there are other issues that will need to be ruled out, too, including boredom. “If a vet diagnoses a separation anxiety, very often they will want to prescribe medications for the pet, which will help alongside any behavioral treatments that you want to do.” Treatment for separation anxiety can take a long time, she said.

Wynne noted that although there are plenty of people out there offering their services as pet behaviorists or animal trainers, there’s no licensing, as with a vet or a human psychologist. “Anybody who’s watched a TV show can claim to be an animal trainer, an animal behaviorist.” That means doing your due diligence to ensure the person is certified through a respected organization, such as the Certification Council for Professional Dog Trainers.

Is getting my pet a companion pet a good idea?

“This depends on the animal. Some are very attached to their people; others get a lot of pleasure from” other members of their species, Horowitz said. “So, you have to know your animal.”

Todd and Udell cautioned, however, against thinking that a companion pet will cure your pet’s separation anxiety. Research is showing “that the other animal may play a role, but it’s likely not the same role as the owner,” Udell said. “And so, it’s not a replacement.”

Whether one pet will welcome a second depends on your pet’s nature and its age, as well as the age and species of the companion. “Many dogs will get on with another dog in the home, more so than cats,” Todd said. But “for both dogs and cats, it depends a lot on the early experiences they had” and whether they were socialized to get along with other animals. “Once an animal is adult, it can be very difficult to get an animal to accept a member of a new species as a friend, as a companion,” Wynne noted.

If you are considering a second pet, Horowitz said, have the pets meet each other, and find out everything you can about the new animal. “Also be sure that you have the time to acclimate the new animal to your home” before resuming pre-pandemic life. If you are unsure how your pet will react to another animal in the household, Todd suggested looking for a shelter that offers a foster-to-adopt program, so you can return the dog or cat if it doesn’t work out.

My pandemic pet has never had to deal with strangers in the house. How do I prepare them?

“Some dogs will actually be fine with that,” Todd said, “and for some dogs, that will be a much more difficult transition.” A good strategy is to designate a space — a mat, crate or room — that they can retreat to if they don’t want to interact with a visitor or that you can send them to for calming down if they react too excitedly. Get them used to the space before anyone starts to visit.

(In fact, Todd said, “it’s always a good idea to have a safe space where your dog or cat can go if they want some quiet time to just chill out and relax.” When your pet seeks out that spot, you should let them stay there, and teach your children not to disturb the pet when it’s in there.)

When you think it’s safe — pandemic-wise — you can ask a friend to practice coming into the house multiple times. Give your dog a treat when it behaves, Todd said. (Don’t have the friend give the treat; you don’t want a nervous dog to have to approach a stranger.)

If your dog is too sensitive for practice entries, “then you might need to waste some time talking on the threshold until the dog could get used to that,” Wynne said.

If you simply cannot take the introduction of new people or your gradual absences slowly enough, and your dog is “overwhelmed by any departure you might make or by any introduction of new people, no matter how briefly you’re away or no matter what distance you keep the person who comes to your door,” Wynne said, it might be time to consider consulting a vet about medication.

[How are dogs coping during the pandemic?]

As noted above, cats who are exposed to different types of animals early in life tend to be more accepting of them. The same goes for people. So a cat who has been living alone with one person during the pandemic, Udell said, “may or may not have the skills to interact in a comfortable way with somebody who does not fit into that mold.”

How can I get over my guilt and sadness about leaving them?

“I think it’s only natural to feel a bit sad,” Todd said, pointing out that Americans increasingly think of dogs and cats not as pets but as family members.

Rather than feeling guilty, Horowitz said, make sure your pet has some companionship. “Maybe you can bring your pet, under some circumstances, to work. Find a dog walker or community doggy day care you like and trust. If you can, go home in the middle of the day. And when you’re home, spend quality time with them.”

Wynne, however, isn’t convinced that guilt is entirely without merit. In general, he thinks we Americans expect our dogs “to put up with being on their own for longer than is conscionable.” Although he doesn’t necessarily advocate adopting the Swedish law that says that dogs can’t be left alone at home for more than six hours at a stretch, “it’s a good rule to live by.” There are ways of working around it, such as hiring a dog walker or getting a companion pet, he noted. But dogs have highly social and loving natures, and “it’s just not fair, not reasonable, to ask them to cope” with our long absences.

Both he and Todd said they hoped the general success of the country’s forced experiment with remote work will encourage employers to continue offering it as an option. “I hope that more people, after the pandemic is over, will at least have the option of working at home some of the time, some days of the week,” Wynne said. “That could be a silver lining to come out of the miserable times that we’re in. ”

0 notes

itslmdee · 7 years

Photo

Ficlet set in the WRE universe. No warnings apply. 885 words. Kit visits an agoraphobic female Wolf. interlude: Tea Kit flashed his badge and a charming smile. "Kit Cavanaugh, Special Support Services."

"You're not my usual," Mira said, still holding onto the door. "Fairfax can't make it. She was supposed to send you a message." The woman eyed him suspiciously. "My Whatsapp has been slow with notifications. Let me check it again." Possibly she'd call the agency which was fine with him. Whatever she needed to feel safe. Kit waited patiently as she closed the door and went on her errand. A couple of minutes later Mira came back and this time opened the door fully. "Come in." Kit followed her to the kitchen, recently modernised by the look of it, the work surfaces immaculate and the oven gleaming. It was a pleasant space bright and airy, large enough for a table with four seats. "Would you like tea? Coffee? Something else?" She was a little on edge, and Kit said, "If you're making tea, I'd love a cup. Strong, dash of milk, no sugar." It would give her something to do while she adjusted to him rather than Henrietta being in her home. "You can sit," Mira said and he did so, watching her put the kettle on to boil. "So. You're not a Wolf." Wolves knew other wolves. "Cat," he said. She nodded. It was hard to guess how she felt about that. "I can ask for a Wolf if you prefer," he offered. "No. I'm just glad of the company." Henrietta had sent him the basics. Agoraphobic werewolf who could rarely leave the house, recently split with her boyfriend who'd become agitated and finally abusive over her mental health. He'd attacked the field agents Henrietta had called for backup and had been arrested. That had put an end to the relationship but left Mira more alone than ever. She had a social media presence and was active on some of the supernatural support forums, but there was a difference between choosing to stay inside and not feeling able to go outside to do so much as exchange a greeting with a shop assistant. It had to get lonely sometimes. "I'm not a pizza," he said, testing the waters. At her puzzled glance he said, "When you said I wasn't your usual. Made me think about pizza." Mira scoffed but with amusement. She stirred the teapot. That had been a non-starter so Kit tried a new tactic. "What do you and Henrietta talk about?" He wasn't about to disrupt whatever Henrietta had been working on with Mira but they had to at least talk. "I don't know. Weather. My boyfriend, or we used to. Movies. Pets. We talked about me getting a pet. For the company. A dog would need walking and that's too much when I haven't stepped further than the garden in a month. Cat, maybe. Small animal. Bird. I don't know enough about reptiles. But suppose I got a cat and I needed to take it to the vet urgently?" Kit nodded. "Pets are a responsibility as well as a source of companionship. But we're here for you and if you had already got a dog before the agoraphobia then I'd have walked it for you before I sat down for tea. If you get a cat now, and you did later need a vet, you could call us and we'd help out." "Hmm." She put the lid on the teapot. She was amenable but something was holding her back. "Your boyfriend. Jackson?" Kit said thoughtfully. A sharp nod. "He didn't want you to have a pet." Mira shook her head, arms folded over her chest. "He said I didn't deserve one until I pulled myself together." Kit bit the inside of his lip to rein in his immediate reaction. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, angry at the tears shining in Mira's eyes. "I'd argue that a pet could help you, rather than be some far-off reward." "Henrietta said something similar." Mira shrugged, turned her back, surreptitiously wiped at her face. "But I don't know." "You can keep thinking about it. You can change your mind whenever you want to." She nodded, poured the tea, added milk. She handed a mug to Kit before taking the chair opposite him. The tea wasn't as strong as he'd have liked but he took a sip to be polite. "Sometimes we go into the garden," Mira said. "I can usually do that." "Can I ask, is it easier as the Wolf, to go outside?" "Yes. Henrietta took me for a walk once. But it was like all the anxiety got stored up and when we got back, when I was human again…" Mira shook her head. "It's difficult when I'm a Wolf. I want to run, to taste the air, to howl at the sky. But the human part of me is too weak." Kit realised he had no idea if Mira was a born Wolf or not. "It's difficult, balancing our two sides. They're both us." "Yes." She stared into her mug a moment. "We can go into the garden, but only if you want to," Kit said. "Humans or otherwise. Your choice." Mira sipped at her tea. "Do you want a biscuit?" she asked, changing the subject. "Always." She grinned and went to find the biscuit tin.

#fantasy #Supernatural Fiction #fiction #shape shifters #agoraphobia #my fiction #wip: wre #fic snippet:wre #character:kit

6 notes · View notes

ironidemic · 5 years

Text

Killing Time: Part II

It had become a routine for Friday nights. Wendy would climb out of her bedroom window and jump down from the roof as soon as her parents were asleep, making her quiet getaway along the side streets where cars would pass her only on occasion, speeding by in streaks of red and white light, too quickly to see if their drivers even thought twice about seeing a girl her age walking alone in the night. The suburban landscape was wrapped in a calm loneliness, a comforting kind of isolation that put Wendy at ease. Everything was going to plan, and after the initial rush of sneaking out of the house, her pulse had slowed to normal. She savored the quiet, feeling safe in the darkness, invulnerable in the way it concealed her. During these late hours, the world seemed to stand still, allowing everything to be alright if only for a moment.

She met Rachel fifteen minutes later in front of her family’s worn-down ranch house, situated on the outskirts of town where only stray cats and food stamp benefactors laid down their roots. Wendy observed for perhaps the hundredth time that Rachel herself, with her pristine smile and carefully filed nails, surely didn’t belong in a place like this, with all of the grit and tragedy. It was just the hand she had been dealt in life, and she seemed to have come to a grim kind of acceptance with that fact. The pair walked together from there, with Rachel confessing school drama in between drags on a cigarette and Wendy listening for the most part, save for a few intermittent scoffs or nods of agreement. It was strange, she had every reason to hate hearing Rachel gossip like this, but for some reason, she could never seem to bring herself to mind. Nothing Rachel said ever struck her as shallow; she saw everything so analytically that it seemed glamorous, and as much as Wendy might deny it, she liked to feel what it might be like to be part of that world, one of cliques that she could never enter and parties she would never attend. It was nice to see the world in that limited view every once in awhile.

“Wendy, you okay?” Rachel playfully bumped her shoulder. “You’re zoning out on me here.”

“I’m listening! Believe me, I don’t want to miss any of the details about Lauren McNairy’s surprise pregnancy. I’ve hated that bitch since the fourth grade”

“When she denied you entry to her lunch table? Stalin himself never committed a worse crime.”

“Shut up! If it wasn’t for her, I may not have ended up looking like disheveled Morticia Addams.”

Rachel shook her head in mock disbelief. “If you say so…”

Steve was already there when they arrived at the waterfront, and had somehow managed to get himself drunk ahead of time, as was apparent by the light slurring in his speech. He waved when he saw them, holding a bottle in one hand and using the other to amplify his voice. “Look who it is! The degenerates! I knew shouldn’t go walking alone at night.”

“The only degenerate here is you, asshat! The rest of us have managed to maintain some type of dignity,” Wendy shouted back, rolling her eyes. “You hit the bar before coming here?” She asked, though the answer was obvious. Steve was always hanging around in bars, drinking and getting into fights to pass the time, anything to escape the confines of his family’s two bedroom apartment.

“Don’t question my lifestyle choices,” he retorted. “I just go with the flow, and that just so happened to be where it took me. What else is a guy supposed to do on a Friday night?”

“I don’t know, homework? Or are you illiterate in addition to being a drunkard?” Rachel cut in laughing.

“Oh, I’m sure there’s someone working on your’s as we speak. Who is it, some poor honors kid who’s just as madly in love with you as everyone else?” Wendy teased, her tone exaggerated and dramatic.

“Cry me a river, sweetheart.” Rachel countered, easily shrugging off the comment. Steve, meanwhile, had begun whistling impatiently, making a show of rotating a silver ring that pierced his nose. Wendy cleared her throat.

“Steven, is that new hardware I see on the septum?”

Steve grinned, a wide, toothy smile of a giddy child. “Like it? I found a guy who does piercings cheap. I can hook you up if you still want one on your lip, Wen.”

Wendy shrugged, picking up a stone from the bank and turning it over in her palm. “Hard pass. I think I’ve pissed off my dad enough for this week. I got an office referral for ‘insubordinate behavior’ again. The old bastard lost his shit.” She pulled her arm back, pitching the stone as hard as she could at the water’s surface. It skipped twice before sinking into the inky depths. Rachel waved a pair of imaginary pom-poms and kicked her leg high in the air.

“Things are tough all over, kid,” she laughed. “Hey Steve, pass the booze.”

The next half hour flew by, blurred by vodka from a worn glass bottle and anchored by the rhythm of stones being thrown into the water and the sounds of laughter echoing in the dark. At some point a fire was lit, a pire of driftwood and dry leaves set ablaze with cigarette lighters that illuminated the beach in a soft orange glow, its rosy fingers clawing at the water’s edge and reflecting off of their faces. Wendy felt like she belonged here, young and tragic but alive, her stony defenses lowered with the two people she cared about most. In moments like this, it felt as if the world belonged to them, a sensation as fleeting as it was glorious, flickering and then dying out when Wendy spotted a pair of headlights shining down the gravel road. A dented ‘77 Camaro pulled up and parked in a patch of weeds that ran along the beach, and out stepped Rourke, looking like a criminal with his crew-cut hair that accentuated the bony structure of his face. A military school dropout and a war vet’s son, marks of stern discipline showed themselves subtly in the hardness of his expression, the stiff jumpiness of his movements. Wendy shrank back, kicking at the sand and gazing absently at the treeline across the water.

Rachel ran to embrace her boyfriend the moment she saw him, her eyes lighting up feverishly as she wrapped her thin arms around him, a small smile forming on her lips. The couple kissed, and Rachel melted into his arms, hanging from his frame as if she desperately needed it for support. Rourke’s cold blue eyes remained wide open, staring somewhere off in the distance, but his grip was firm, wanting her but not loving her. Wendy hated him more than ever then, but swallowed it for the time being. Whether she liked it or not, everyone had to be present in order for the ritual to take place.

“Hey man, what took you so long?” Steve greeted, slapping Rourke on the back in a friendly manner.

“Let’s just call it an errand,” he laughed dryly, pulling a weighted burlap sack out of the trunk of his car and saying nothing more of it. “I’m sure you didn’t miss me too much.”

“We managed,” Wendy deadpanned. She looked up, and the pair made brief eye contact, giving half nods of acknowledgement. They didn’t have to pretend to like each other.

Rourke leaned in to kiss Rachel again then pulled back suddenly, jerking his hand up as if in pain and then slowly running his fingers through her hair. A smile formed on his face that looked twisted and contrived.

“Let’s start, shall we?” he said, gently lifting her chin so that she met his gaze. Rachel cracked a red-lipped smile and nodded in agreement, her expression showing nothing but complete trust. Steve and Wendy reacted quickly, assuming their respective positions around the bonfire: Wendy standing to the East and Steve facing the North. Rourke carried the burlap sack to his place in the South, cracking his neck after it hit the ground with a dull thud. Rachel drew a tarot deck from the pocket of her jeans before finally joining them, filling the fourth place in the West and completing the circle. She knelt down and shuffled the deck once, placing the top card face down in the dirt before revealing the image. Even from a distance Wendy could make it out in the traces of firelight: a horned creature with the head of a goat and the body of a man, gray wings extending from its back, and a man and woman fettered at its clawed feet: The Devil. Rachel stood, her eyes shimmering a clouded white.

Rourke’s smile had become more twisted than ever, curling upwards at the edges in a narrow line that pulled his lips thin over his teeth. He pulled a knife from his front pocket and held it up over his head, the metal shining red and gold in the firelight. In one quick motion he drew the blade across the palm of his hand, not once flinching or hesitating, and simply stared down at the blood welling up in the cut as if he felt nothing. Rachel slit her palm next, gasping slightly and clutching her wrist to combat the pain. She passed the knife on to Steve, who contorted his face and uttered a string of curses under his breath after accidentally cutting his hand too deep. He then outstretched his uninjured arm, offering the knife to Wendy, the blade now stained a deep crimson. She clenched the handle and cautiously took it, glancing at the pale, ill-lit faces surrounding her. The blade was cold on her skin as she made the incision, cutting just deep enough into her skin to draw blood. For a split second she felt nothing, just a vague tingling sensation in her wrist, until pain crept gradually into its place, pulsing through her nerves and forcing her to bite her lip in order to fight back the tears as she handed the knife back to Rourke.

“Ready?” Rourke asked. They nodded solemnly in response and extended their arms over the fire, allowing the drops of blood from their palms to feed the flames, each drop sizzling on impact. The wind shifted, blowing hard from the east, and the fire turned a pale blue color, radiating vibrant heat as the rest of the world faded dim and cold. Rachel threw her face upwards towards darkened sky, and began to chant, her voice coming from somewhere deep inside her chest, producing a low, guttural sound that seemed entirely foreign on her lips. Sweat covered her brow when she finally fell silent, her chest rising and falling rapidly in exhaustion. The preparations were complete; they had channeled the spirit. It’s invisible darkness engulfed them, wanting, waiting.

Rourke reached into the burlap sack sitting behind him and dragged out a skinny hound by it’s back legs. Wendy’s stomach lurched, her mind reeling in temporary shock. A faint glimmer of emotion surfaced in her conscience, one of many that she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time. Pity. It disgusted her, tugging at the back of her throat and pooling in the pit of her stomach, but as she saw the mutt hanging there, beaten unconscious with dried blood and dark bruises covering its protruding rib cage and patchy coat, the feeling only grew. Suddenly, she felt everything at once: the shame, the fear, the despair, all culminating in the crushing realization that she was in far over her head. She wanted it to stop; she couldn’t bear feeling this here, now, not after she had worked so hard to contain it. Just as Rourke had positioned the knife on the dog’s neck, ready to make the sacrifice, Wendy stumbled back, taking one foot out of the circle.

“Stop it!” She screamed, holding her face in her hands to hide the anguish betrayed there. “I want out! I can’t do this anymore!” She had lost control, on the verge of a panicked breakdown that had been lurking in her psyche since the day she first sensed that something had gone horribly wrong.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re going to get us all killed!” Rourke’s eyes were wild, but there was fear lingering in his voice. “You can’t just opt out, you stupid bitch! There is no out, not for you or me or anyone. This is what you signed up for!”

There had been other rituals like this one. It started with small offerings to the dark spirit: trinkets, valuables, personal items, locks of hair from family members; things that seemed to have little significance until they realized that a connection had been forming all along. Threads of the darkness had wormed their way into each of their lives, twisting and tying around their limbs until they were rendered nearly immobile. They needed to conduct the rituals; their strength depended on it, a neverending pull that was futile to resist. It was only a matter of time before the sacrificing began, when they were already too weak to protest and all morals had faded into indistinguishable shades of gray. It started with rodents and birds caught in the woods, stray cats found in alleyways and roads sides, but the spirit’s appetite for blood only grew, an unsatisfiable thirst for weakness and pain that always demanded more. Through it all, Rourke promised that in the end, this would all be worth it. The power of the darkness was limitless, and to have the ability to tap into it at will, well, that could make any problem disappear. Money, freedom, happiness, control; it all would rest at their fingertips.

Wendy shook her head. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” It was a command as well as a plea, but it was too late for either of those. She had made up her mind, and stepped out of the circle.

A blinding flash of light erupted from the fire, and Wendy felt her body being thrown backwards into the rocky bank, the impact knocking the wind from her lungs. She grasped at the sandy ground, trying to find her feet to stand, but something held her there, rendering her immobile. Wendy yelped, struggling against her invisible restraints, when pain hit her chest with the force of a bullet tearing through her insides. The sensation spread beneath her skin, hot like acid coursing through her veins. She doubled over, desperately screaming for it to stop, but the pain was persistent, coming in white-capped waves that pounded beneath her skull in sickening rhythm with the sounds of the other’s cries of pain somewhere in the distance. In the moment, she would have wished for death if it guaranteed relief; anything to make the pain end. Just when Wendy thought she could bear it no longer, her chest heaving and lip quivering in submissive defeat, a voice filled her head, flooding the cavity like water.

“Rachel. Give her to me and you will be spared.” It spoke in layers of deep groaning and shrill hissing, the result something dry and sinister that seemed to shake the ground. Wendy’s stomach lurched in protest-- not Rachel, anyone but Rachel, but before she could think further of refusing, the pain multiplied in one white hot flash, leaving her gasping and shaking in aftershock.

“Do what it says,” Rourke called out weakly. “It’s no use resisting it.”

Wendy knew he was right. Their course was set in stone; they no longer had a choice in the matter.

They dragged her thrashing and screaming into the cold rapids, wading out until the water was waist deep. Steve and Wendy each held one of her legs, struggling to stop her from kicking the while Rourke carried her further into the water, one arm around her chest and the other covering her mouth. She was crying now, her eyes darting wildly to each of their faces, pleading helplessly for any sign of compassion. Wendy had to look away, staring down at the soft ripples on the water’s surface. One could be sacrificed to save the lives of three. It was only logical, and fear prevented her from thinking otherwise.

A full moon shone between scattered clouds in, sending beams of blue light over the landscape. Rachel’s skin glowed pale and unblemished in the water’s reflection, a perfect offering. They pushed her under and held her there, fighting to control the violent thrashing of her limbs. Wendy could feel her weakening, the resistance becoming less and less until she surrendered, her body going limp and floating up to the surface. Her face was soft, eyes resting open and vacant.

They dug a shallow grave in the woods offshore, scratching away at the rocky earth with bare hands, dirt caking beneath their fingernails. Rachel's body was still warm when they lowered it into the ground, but her muscles had already begun to stiffen, as if she were bracing herself against their touch, paralyzed in a state of unending revulsion. Wendy’s hands felt numb, operating outside of her conscious as they covered the corpse, piling soil over it until a soft mound formed. She rose in staggering unison with Rourke and Steve, saying nothing, her eyes plastered to the pebbles and sand clinging to her damp knees. Everything was still, the air humid and chilly, the bonfire reduced to nothing but a pile of ash scattering in the breeze. Rourke produced a roll of gauze from the pocket of his ripped acid wash jeans, bandaging his own hand before offering it to Wendy and Steve.

“We aren’t going to tell anyone about this; we won’t even talk about it to each other,” he said, words rolling quickly and smoothly off his tongue. “It would be better if we weren’t seen together for a couple of days. I doubt anyone will find the body, but if they do, we’ll need to come up with separate alibis... ”

“It’s almost like you’ve done this before,” Steve interjected, laughing nervously. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, and his skin had turned a slickly shade of ashen gray. The fact stood clear: Steve, the unshakable force of delinquent's confidence, was terrified.

“Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t,” Rourke answered flatly, lighting a cigarette as he spoke. He took a long drag, blowing the smoke slowly from his mouth and watching as it rose up into the air, clouding his face from view. Wendy grimaced, inhaling sharply and pulling the gauze so tightly over her wound that pain shot through her entire arm.

“How the hell can you say that after what you… what we did?” she hissed between gritted teeth. “Rachel is dead because of us, because we were a bunch of weak fucking cowards!” Wendy stood, fuming, watching and waiting for her words to sink in. Rourke tensed up, his jaw clenched tight with rage as he grabbed her arm, jerking her towards him. His nails dug into her skin, and she could feel the heat of his breath on her face.

“Rachel is dead because you didn’t follow the rules,” he growled. “We did what we had to do, but her blood is on your hands.” He had the air of a loaded gun, and Wendy noticed for the first time that his irises were completely black. She didn’t dare move.

“Let go of her, Rourke!” Steve said, stepping defensively between them. “She’s just tired.” Steve turned to Wendy with a look dead seriousness. He loomed nearly six inches over Rourke’s height, but that didn’t hide the glint of fear reflecting in his eyes. “Go home, Wendy.” Rourke’s hand slid away, falling at his side in a tight fist. Wendy nodded to Steve before turning away and running into the darkness. Her skin was numb, her mind filled by Rourke’s echoing voice.

Her blood is on your hands. She knew that it was true. Rachel was gone because of her. No more blond hair, no more of coy smiles or understated laughs. She was gone now. Rachel was dead, and her last thoughts had been of fear and betrayal. Wendy was sure she could have stopped it if only she had been stronger, if only she had kept her mouth shut in the first place. Guilt overwhelmed her, pressing down like a weight on chest, making it hard to breathe. Yet the fact stood, impossible to forget or deny.

Her blood is on your hands.

#short story

0 notes

wingsy-keeper-of-songs · 7 years

Text

Vet Visit

Anon requested: Any shot at a cute story for Blofeld? Please?

Ask and ye shall receive, Nonny. Here’s our favorite SPECTRE baddy taking his cat to the vet and meeting a pretty woman in the waiting room. Hope it’s to your liking!

Being the head of SPECTRE carried a lot of weight in a lot of places that actually knew about the program. Things were done in the shadows and with the utmost secrecy because God forbid MI6 find out anything and send 007 after them. Again. For the fifth time that month. Granted, Ernst Blofeld was as slippery as he was brilliant and he managed to get away each time relatively unscathed. As of now, the head of the leading terrorist organization was on an errand that had nothing to do with plots of world domination or familial revenge. The world’s most terrifying spy-killer was sitting in a waiting room with a cat carrier on his lap and looking a bit worried.

It wasn’t every day Eidelweiss had to go to the vet, and the white Persian absolutely loathed it. She hated trips and being forced into the damned cat carrier and having to sit in a seat next to her master. Poor thing, he thought. He really hoped there wasn’t anything wrong with his cat. The last thing he needed was having to replace a lifelong companion on account of old age. And cats were always so reliable. Not like dogs who drooled and wanted to be your friend all the time, with their wagging tails, terrible breath and dog smell. Cats were a much more elegant pet, sleek and slinky with minds as devious as his own. Yes, the cat was the perfect pet for the head of SPECTRE. The door to the back opened and a young lady came out into the waiting room with a list.

“Mister Oberhauser?” Her pronunciation wasn’t perfect, but he could care less. “I’ll see you over here, please.” She said as she headed into the office behind her. Blofeld stood up and headed towards the glass, setting the cat carrier on the floor. Eidelweiss mewed in protest, but he had to ignore it. “So we’re going to get you set up for an appointment with Dr. Sutton, ‘kay?” The girl said brightly and Blofeld could feel his eye twitch. She was a morning person, brilliant.

“All right,” he replied with a smile in turn because he had manners and wasn’t rude.

“Okay, so what’s the kitty’s name?” The assistant asked.

“Eidelweiss,” he replied and the girl smiled up at him. His eyebrow twitched.

“Aww, that’s a pretty name. Like the song in Sound of Music?” Gods damn that movie.

“If you like,” he said.

“And how old is Eidelweiss?”

“She’s ten.” Her fingers clicked away at the computer and she looked back up at him.

“Okay, and you said on the phone that she wasn’t eating, right?” He nodded. Yes, that’s why I’m here, can we please get on with this he thought to himself. “Well, we’re all set here. I’ll go into the back and get Dr. Sutton and we’ll set Eidelweiss up with an appointment, okay? Just have a seat over where you were and I’ll be right back!” Relieved that this conversation was over (he really couldn’t stand people who were so damn cheery all the time. Where did they find the time for it?) he headed back to his original seat with the cat carrier in tow. The waiting room was basically empty, save for the woman in the chair across from him. It was an oppressive feeling, really and Blofeld would have really liked to get back to ruining people’s lives and carrying out plans for world domination. That at least was fun. The woman across from him turned to give him a sympathetic smile.

“She’s a cheerful one, isn’t she?” She said with a nod at the closing door. He grunted with little amusement.

“It seems,” he replied shortly. “Though I’d much prefer it if she were quieter.”

“Oh I quite agree.” She said. “I’m not much of a morning person. I never quite trust people who can be so abysmally cheerful at such an ungodly hour.” She took the words right out of his mouth, to be honest. “You’re here for your cat?” She asked with a nod at the carrier. Well, obviously. He wasn’t here for him, now was he?

“Yes. She hasn’t been feeling well lately.” He said as he glanced down at the carrier. She saw that his face had softened a little from the taciturn expression he was wearing before. He must really care about his cat.

“I’m here for more of the same,” she replied. “My Mittens hasn’t been feeling well, either.” He blinked. Mittens? Well, that was a new one. To each their own and all that. “What’s your name?” She asked suddenly.

“Franz Oberhauser,” he answered automatically because hell no he wasn’t giving away his identity, charming and attractive woman or not.

“That’s a mouthful,” she teased a little. “Are you from Germany? You have a bit of an accent.” Try as he might, he could never shake that Austrian accent. It would always come back to haunt him at inopportune times. Like Bond.

“I’m from Austria,” he corrected. “Some would say they were more of the same thing, but they would be wrong.”

“I’m Valerie,” the woman introduced herself. “I’m a boring and conventional run-of-the-mill American.”

“A pleasure,” he replied and he meant it. It wasn’t every day he got to speak with a lovely woman. He was nothing like Bond.

“What brings you to our corner of the world?” Valerie asked, tucking her red hair behind her ear. Plotting, terrorist attacks, the overthrowing of governments, assassinations, you name it and SPECTRE did it.

“Work,” was his answer. And technically it wasn’t a lie either. Score one for Blofeld.

“Ah, what do you do?” Now that was a good question. Personally, he oversaw everything in his domain. He was the spider in the web of lies, deceit and other discrepancies. How did a person get to explaining that to an innocent and attractive bystander?

“I oversee a few things, keep people in line that sort of thing.” He shrugged. “All rather boring really. Not very exciting dinner conversation.” And definitely not something a pretty woman would be interested in, either. “What about you?” Yes, turn the conversation around. Make her talk about herself and maybe see if you can learn a thing or two about her.

“I’m a music teacher,” she replied. “I teach up at the high school.” Yes, she certainly seemed the type. “I guess the both of us lead a bit of a boring life, huh?” Blofeld was proud of himself for holding back a smirk or a laugh.

“I suppose so.” They were quiet for a couple of moments as Blofeld contemplated asking this woman for coffee. Mostly to get to know her a little better (though he could always just ask for her last name and search through her records, but that was creepy and he’d rather not). Before he could ask her anything though, the door opened as the cheery receptionist from before emerged with a very happy, very friendly grey pit bull with white feet.

“Ah, hello Mittens!” Valerie said happily, kneeling down and throwing her arms around the dog. Blofeld blinked stupidly for a few minutes. Mittens was a dog.

Valerie was a dog person.

Well then.

The cheery receptionist turned to Blofeld and smiled big and bright at him. “Eidelweiss is next, sweetie. Dr. Sutton will see you in the back.” She informed him. Blofeld was highly unamused. Sweetie? Who the hell called him that? Valerie looked back at him as she headed to pay and he started towards the door.

“Well, good luck with your cat, Mister Oberhauser.” She said with a grin and a wave. Blofeld waved back because dog person or not, she was not rude. And neither was he.

#fanfiction #franz oberhauser/blofeld #vet trip #christoph waltz #anon request

17 notes · View notes

lunakinesis · 8 years

Text

Archie

I had a teddy bear that just had to go everywhere with me as a kid. I'm nothing special there, I'm sure we all had that one toy, stuffy or comforter that went everywhere and anywhere with us. Mine wasn't really a 'bear', it was a grey and white Husky dog that I'd named Archibald, Archie for short... Don't ask about the name, I was a weird kid.

Archibald and I did everything together: he slept in my bed, sat on the lid of the toilet whilst I bathed or brushed my teeth, sat on the table beside me whilst I ate, sat in my backpack or on my desk at school and in my lap on the school bus as well as any car trips. I cherished him, kept him incredibly pristine for a child. The only damaged he suffered was unfortunately losing an eye, but he was clean and neat and I loved him.

But one day Archibald went missing.

I don't know how it happened since he was always with me, I especially don't know how it happened since I had him in my bed. But one morning I woke up and Archibald was gone. He wasn't in my arms like he had been when I'd fallen asleep, he had been pushed to other parts of my bed as I wriggled around nor had he managed to get between the duvet and its cover. I even looked under my bed in case he had fallen out during the night. He was nowhere to be found.

I was inconsolable. My mom and dad both tried to make me feel better but I cried for hours and didn't stop until my face was red and puffy and my eyes were burning, I think I only even stop then because I'd exhausted my tiny body. But I was still upset. My parent and I tore the house apart looking for him, we went through every room and closet at least three times. But he was just... gone. They were as baffled as I was, the only explanation they could come with was that our cat had somehow managed to take him from in my sleep and dragged him through the house and out the cat-flap in the kitchen door, eventually dragging him of somewhere outside. It doesn't make much sense looking back on it. Cinnamon wasn't the kind to take my stuffed animals. My socks, yes. My toys? No. I don't even think he could've fit through the flap with Archie in his mouth. But it was the only way we could explain this Husky doll vanishing off the face of the earth.

We did check the back yard but he wasn't out there either. I think my parents asked the neighbours if they could check their own yards, but I don't think many of them bothered, and he wasn't in any of the ones that were checked. I had to face the unpleasant reality of things: Archie was gone forever.

I had lost a few toys before and a good number since and I recovered quickly from each. But I never really got over Archie because of the inexplicable nature of his disappearance and how much he had meant to me. My parents replaced him with another stuffed Husky dog, but it just wasn't the same, grateful as I was for them trying.

Time went by and Archibald was largely forgotten except for during the occasional dinner where his mysterious disappearance was brought up between my parents, myself and any guests. I grew up and went to college, got a job and eventually managed to get a house of my own with my husband. We weren't interested in having children, that was something we'd both discussed. But we did have another thing in mind: furbabies.

We both loved animals, especially dogs.

Shelters were our first stop, see if we clicked with any of the dogs in the local ones and give the animals who been dealt a bad hand in life a chance of finding a forever home.

It was at the second shelter that we visited that we found the first dog we wanted to bring home with us. Boy, did I get a shock when I approached than pen.

There were three Huskies inside of it. All beautiful and alert, tails wagging. But one especially caught my attention. He was big, even for a Siberian Husky. He had the iconic grey and white colouring and the equally iconic piercing blue eyes the breed is known for. Or rather 'eye'. Yeah. One eye. This dog looked like a living, breathing Archie. It was love at first sight, and me and my husband took him home as soon as everything was taken care of.

My husband knew the story of Archibald by this point, and so we renamed our new family member Archie. He was a gentle giant and a big baby. He loved to go for runs with me in the morning and snoozing on the sofa beside me and my husband in the evenings (even if it was a tight squeeze to get the three of us on the couch with how big he was.). He wasn't allowed to sleep on the bed simply because of his size, but he had a bed in our room and would either curl up there or lie on the floor on my side of bed at night.

Life was perfect with him, our little unit felt complete. We wanted to add more animals into the mix, but we wanted to see how we did with one first. We were doing pretty great but.. one of our neighbours hated Archie.

I don't know why. He only barked when the mail came or when firecrackers went off. He never strayed from our yard to do business in someone else's, and he wasn't an aggressive dog. Samuel Cooper just hated him. Kept telling me and my husband we should 'put him out of his misery'. Apparently only having one eye was enough for this dog to deserve a one-way vet trip.

Naturally we were disgusted by this and it lead to many arguments between this neighbour and ourselves. We never thought much of it beyond him being some bitter man who just hated happiness.

That all changed in the middle of November. We found a dead cat in our yard. She belonged to someone a few doors down. When her owners took her body to the vet, it was revealed she'd been poisoned. Those neighbours new we had a dog and knew we would never think of poisoning another animal. It left us all to conclude it had been our next-door neighbour, Mr. Cooper. We couldn't prove it at the time, no evidence was found. But we knew it was him. The death glares he shot us every time we passed one another outside were enough to tell us he'd been trying to kill Archie.

I'm very sorry to say that several months down the line he tried again... and succeeded.

It had been so long since he'd tried anything or said anything beyond his usual grumblings and we'd let our guard down. He'd thrown a piece of chicken into our yard and stuffed poisonous pellets into it. Archie ate it without a second thought and a few hours later he was convulsing and vomiting. There was nothing the vet could do. We put him down so he didn't have to suffer a slow, agonising death.

I wish I could say the bastard got what he deserved and was caught this time but again, we couldn't prove HE had been responsible, even if one look at his smug face gave his guilt away. We were devastated, in fact that word doesn't seem enough. I was utterly crushed. I'd lost Archie all over again, only this time if was even worse because he was a real dog, not just a plush toy.

About a month or so after we lost Archie, Mr. Cooper confronted my husband as he was tending to our lawn, he started ranting and raving about our 'new dog' barking all night long out in our yard and that if it happened again he'd call animal control. My husband told him he didn't know what he was talking about, we didn't have a dog anymore, not since he'd murdered our last one.

Of course he didn't believe a word of that, but my husband turned the lawnmower back on and ignored his screeching. We both agreed when he relayed the story to me that Samuel Cooper was delusional, or that his guilt for killing our beloved pet was getting the better of him. We shrugged it off, thinking he'd realise when he didn't see it at all that we definitely didn't have a new dog. Boy, were we wrong.

A few nights late at around two in the morning he was banging on our front door so hard I thought someone was trying to break in until we both heard him screaming "Shut that fucking dog up!" between his pounding on the door. I didn't want my husband to go down and answer the door to him, but he had had enough of Cooper's 'bullshit' to quote him.

I listened from the bedroom door as my husband stormed downstairs and threw our front door open, demanding Cooper get off our properly. It was met with more nonsensical rambling about our dog howling non-stop all night. My husband reiterated that we had no dog but the man just wouldn't have it.

The door was slammed in his face at that point and my husband slumped back up the stairs, as confused as I was about our neighbour's ravings. He stayed out there for another ten minutes before finally leaving. We decided if it happened again, we would call the police to remove him.

Morning came and when I was out for my routine jog I saw Mr. Cooper getting into his car to go to work. He looked exhausted: eyes heavy with black bags under them, skin pale. He still managed to sneer at me as I passed his house and entered my yard. I was tempted to ask if he should be driving when he clearly hadn't gotten enough sleep but I didn't want to bait a foul-tempered man in a Jeep into attempting to mow me down.

His usual time for returning home came and went, and my husband and I noted Mr. Cooper hadn't returned from work. It's just one of those things you notice after a while, you know your neighbours routines almost as much as your own. We shrugged it of however, maybe he'd gone to run errands or visit family or just have a drink. He'd looked in dire need of one when he'd left this morning. I expressed that I hoped if he did have a drink, he didn't drive home as he'd already looked in no condition to be behind the wheel when he'd left that morning, nevermind with alcohol on top.

The next morning came and he still wasn't back. The neighbour who'd lost their cat was however, coming down our drive as I was heading out.

"Did you hear?" she asked me.

My face scrunching up was enough of an answer as I popped my headphones out of my ears.

"Oh! You didn't!" She gasped, the sound genuine and not dramatic as I'd expected from something I'd assumed would be gossip. "Samuel got into a crash on the way home from work last night. Apparently he fell asleep at the wheel! His car was wrecked and he's in an induced coma but they don't think he's going to make it."

I stared dumbly out across my yard into Mr. Cooper's. He really hadn't been in any state to drive. "He did look exhausted yesterday morning but I didn't want to say anything, you know how he is."

She nodded. "I know it's awful but I hope he doesn't pull through. Karma if you ask me, for what he did to our babies."

I felt terrible to admit it, but I felt the same. It wasn't as if he had any children who needed him. He was just a cruel, bitter man who'd taken the lives of two, sweet animals. I decided I didn't care what happened to him, and beyond relaying the news to my husband thought nothing else of it until that night.

My husband had a late shift at work and so I was home alone. I'd settled into bed with my table lamp on reading a book when I heard something scratch at the bedroom door. I thought I was simply hearing things at first, maybe missing Archie's company so much I was hallucinating the sound of him 'asking' to be let into the room. But then the sound came again.

Thinking maybe a stray or pet cat had managed to get in the house I got out of bed and opened the door. What was on the other side left my mouth agape.

An old, one-eyed Husky stuffy. Archibald had finally come home.

#horror stories #scary stories #stories #horror #sixpenceee #my work

333 notes · View notes