#i also am planning on drawing Arizona sometime soon so watch out for that!

[dailymothanon]

I’m still outta town n stuff so I only had the time to sketch a little 😵‍💫 this is from an old au of not-wttt Android Ak, the design was never fully made so there’s only been concepts, the lore however is more fleshed out 😌 im gonna be trying other techniques to see if itll help me with designing him

Is it really worth it 😕??? This is Uki btw, in Inuktitut her name means survivor, but I do use her design for The Little One because in not-wttt, she canonically died when she was born 😔 her design was based on salmon 😋 so naturally salmon pink is the best colors and also she likes boba 🧋 because they’re like salmon eggs and salmon eat eggs too

[scaredofthebasement-blog]

When Love Walks In - Chpt 8

Reblog to get this great love story out there.  It’s just lifting off...Enjoy the ride!  

Chpt 8 - Auston Gets Dr Quinn Alone

2869 Words

“Hey Auston, what’s going on?”  Dr Quinn approaches his bed and sits beside him in the chair.  

He just sits, staring off, thinking of what he can say.

“You can talk to me about anything, Auston.  I will try to help you if you tell me your concerns.”

He grabs his whiteboard and writes, “I want this all to be over, to get out of here and back to my life the way I knew it.”

“Yes.  I get that Auston.  Honestly, I understand.  But it should only be a couple more days till you will be able to breathe on your own if you continue with your ‘Rock Star’ ways.”  She smirks at him and tilts her head to get him to look at her.  She draws a smile and blush out of him.  He feels like he’s back in high school again with a school boy crush.  

Dr Quinn continues, “Then we will be able to get you out of Intensive Care, get you out of the hospital and start focusing on your voice and your physical fitness.  Your breathing capacity will have to wait till you have completely healed and you’ve had an opportunity to get your conditioning back.  So yes, as I’m sure you’re figuring out, this is going to be a game of patience.  But I’m sure you’ve had to exercise patience in getting yourself into the NHL.  I’m sure you can remember doing that?”

Auston nods yes.

“Did it work out in the end?” She asks, knowing the answer.

“Till a puck smashed my throat”, he writes with a sarcastic smirk.

“Ha!  Yes.  Sadly, that’s true.  But I bet you went through the long game of huge challenges and struggles that you had to rise above to get to the point…,” she pauses looking for the right words.  “…Where you got to take that puck to your throat”, Dr Quinn grins as she teases the last part, looking for a reaction.

Auston can’t help but chuckle and smile at what she just said.  She gets me.  She’s cool, he thinks.

“From what I have heard, it looks like you handled all of that preparation for the NHL really well.”

Curious, Auston needs to know, so he writes, “What did you hear?”  

“Just that you made it to the NHL, against some pretty big odds, coming from the sunbelt, I understand”, Dr Quinn answers.

Oh, so that’s all she knows, he thinks.

“Do you like the Leafs? Do you watch games?”  He writes, trying to find out what she might know about him.

“To be completely honest, Auston I have not been following the Leafs.  I’ve been preoccupied with my career for many years.  But I do know they’re a hockey team AND I have nothing against them if that’s what you’re getting at”, she jokes.

Auston picks up his marker and writes “LOL!” and smiles at Dr Quinn’s joke.

Dr Quinn laughs.

Auston writes, “Oh, so glad you have nothing against us.  LMAO! I can gift you tickets to a game when I get back playing?  It’s the least I could do.”

“That sounds like something I wouldn’t hate.”  Dr Quinn smiles.

“Oh, wow!  You sound so into it.  You do know that people actually pay big bucks to go to Leafs’ games, right?”  He shows her his board, shaking his head and smiling.

“Yes, of course.  I would like to watch you play sometime, Auston. I’ve heard good things”,  Dr Quinn attempts to reassure him.

He can’t help himself. He shakes his head, grinning and writes, “Good things!  Ha! OMG!  You’re so funny!  So you didn’t know who I was when you were operating on me?”

Dr Quinn is starting to think this guy is a bit full of himself.  She makes a note to herself that she should have a look into what he is all about.  She knows he is in the news, that there are tons of people concerned about him and there is a shrine outside the hospital, but she also knows that hockey and all professional sports are a huge deal in Toronto, so any good player would get that kind of attention.

I should Google him when I get a chance, she thinks.

Dr Quinn tells him, “No. The attending staff that night just informed me that you were an NHL hockey player injured in a playoff game. Then after surgery, they told me your name, but I had only heard it in the context that the Leafs were lucky to get you.”

“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”  He writes.

“Ha!  Auston!  You are pretty bold, aren’t you?”  She laughs nervously.

“Sorry.  You don’t have to answer.  I was just curious.  Besides you already know a lot about me”,  He writes back.

“No, to be honest, I don’t know much about you, other than medically speaking.  I’m telling you the truth when I say I’ve been living under a rock of medical studies for years.  I was actually just thinking that, by the sound of things, I should probably look into this ‘Auston Matthews’ guy.  You’ve got me curious, thinking I must be in the presence of a pretty amazing star”, she says half teasing.

Auston is embarrassed. He writes on his board, “Oh man, I feel like an asshole for coming across as cocky.”  He then wipes his board.  “Sorry, I’m not used to people not knowing who I am, in hockey-obsessed Toronto, I mean”, He writes and wipes again.  “I am actually just a 27-year-old guy, raised in Arizona, blessed with a supportive family, great coaches, athleticism, fast reflexes and good hand-eye coordination. I applied myself and have been very lucky.”  

He is running out of room on the whiteboard, so he shows her and cleans the board.  He continues, “I’ve achieved pretty good success and play for a big deal team that makes a big deal out of me.”  

He cleans the board again and adds, “But I’ve never won a Cup, can’t breathe on my own, can’t talk, and never saved a life.  So look no further than yourself, cause you’re the star in this room.”  He erases again and ends with, “Oh, and you’re gonna have to get me a bigger whiteboard.”  He gives a cheeky smile as he holds up the board.

Dr Quinn laughs. “Ha!  Very funny!  Oh, Auston, I could get you a bigger whiteboard, but I plan on getting you talking as soon as possible.  Seriously though, thank you for sharing with me a bit about you.  I’m glad to know you better.”  She doesn’t know what else to say but definitely feels that he has just endeared himself to her.

“So I understand you’ve become a very successful doctor in a short period?”  Auston enquires.

“One might say that”, she answers shyly.

“You must be proud of yourself”, He adds.

“Well, I’m happy that I was able to get where I am, sooner than later, so that I can do what I have dreamed of doing which is to make a difference for people in medical crisis like yourself”,  she answers.

“My parents told me about your rise, and it sounds like I am fortunate to have you as my doctor. Thank you, for all the hard work you put in so that you can be here today to help me”, Auston writes.

“Oh, Auston, thank you for that!  I’m really happy that I can be here to help you.  You could say for me, helping you was like getting into the playoffs.  But getting your voice back; that will be my Stanley Cup.”

“Look at you using sport’s analogies, Dr Q!” He writes, smiling and opens his mouth to emphasize shock.

“Yeah, I kinda surprised myself there.”  She responds, laughing.

“They told me what happened to your boyfriend and said that inspired you to do what you are doing now. That’s a pretty amazing story”, Auston writes.

“I suppose so.  I needed to make something good come out of a tragic situation.  I’m assuming that there was something that started you on your path to becoming an NHL player”, Dr Quinn queries.

Auston writes, “Yeah, I fell in love with the speed and skill of the game.  I bonded over hockey with my dad and my uncle, Billy.  My uncle died when I was about four.  My dad was pretty torn up since they were very close. It was hard to see him like that. I suppose I wanted to make my Dad happy again by doing well in something and honour my uncle.  I’m also highly competitive, which I attribute to me being a middle child.  Always fighting for the attention, I guess.  I’ve no idea why I just told you that.”  Auston looks up at Dr Quinn, to gauge her reaction.  He’s almost expecting her to leave the room, turned off by this guy who is not as cool as he is trying to appear.  He’s disappointed in himself, slipping up and letting her see behind the curtain.  He’s embarrassed.

Sensing his regret over his disclosure, Dr Quinn tries to reassure him.  “Well, that was refreshingly insightful and honest, Auston.  I’m actually flattered that you would share that with me.  Please don’t regret telling me that.  I’m actually impressed that you can see yourself for who you are and that you trust me, to tell me such things.  From what I have observed in life, everyone has the fundamental need to be heard, seen and valued.  Some just go about it more boldly than others.”

“Thank you.”  Auston writes as he smirks shyly.  His heart is overflowing with affection for this woman who stands before him.

“I’m sorry about your Uncle Billy, Auston.  How did he die?”  She asks.

“CF”,  He writes.

“Ah, a breathing disease. Interesting.  Well, you are going to honour your Uncle and make your father, mother, sisters and fans, very proud when you get yourself breathing on your own again.  There may also be a chance to make you and I the proudest that we have ever been.”

“How’s that?”  He writes, confused.

“Restoring your voice. Like I told you, the small trials have been successful, but you could be the first big success.  I believe in you, and I believe in me.  I will be your guide every step of the way.  We’ll be a team.  You just need to do what I tell you.  In fact, I’ll make you a promise.  I will go to one of your hockey games when you make it back to playing hockey again. How’s that sound?”

Auston feels a peace wash through his body as she speaks.  He knows he can trust her.  He believes he can count on her.  It is like he has known her forever.  He wants her to stay with him.  He feels secure and safe with her near.

“So do we have a deal that you and I will fix you and then I’ll go to one of your games?”

“Yeah, but I have one thing to add”,  He writes.

“And what’s that?” She asks.

“You’ll wear my Jersey to the game”,  he writes before he thinks it through.  

Where the hell has my filter gone, and why do I keep telling her things that make me look pathetic or like a school boy with a crush?  He immediately asks himself as his stomach drops.

Suddenly, her stomach gets butterflies, and a red flag goes up.  For some reason, Auston’s request feels intimate.  

“Then what will YOU wear?” She responds quickly with a joke, to lighten the unease.

Embarrassed, Auston smiles and rolls his eyes and is glad for the comic relief as a distraction.  He still wants to crawl under the bed but can only hope she isn’t creeped out.

Curiosity gets the best of Dr Quinn, and she can’t help but ask, “Seriously, though, why is that Auston?”

He thinks fast and writes, “Because you said we’re a team, so we have to wear the same jersey, right?”

She is relieved.  That makes sense to her.  “Oh for sure Auston.  Deal!” She says as she reaches out her hand to move past this uneasy conversation.  As they shake hands, they both feel an electric charge but pretended not to notice.  

Great save! Auston thinks to himself.

Dr Quinn wants to escape the confusing thoughts she is having about Auston.  She instantly numbs herself to feeling the tingle she got when they touched.  She reveals nothing in her reaction or words.  Her job depends on it.

“Well, I need to get going, Auston.  But I hope this talk helped.”

He nods and smiles but secretly wants more time with her.

“You going home?”  He writes, hoping to solicit more information about her nonchalantly.

“Yeah, after I finish some paperwork”,  She answers with a grin.

“Got any plans tonight?” Auston continues his mission for information.

“Just Pilates.  In fact, I recall, that’s what I had just finished when I got the Page to come help out a certain STAR hockey player who had an accident”,  She teases.

“Ha! Oh.  Sorry about that”,  He writes.

“Yeah, I might forgive you”, She jokes with a wink.

Auston makes a realisation and writes, “Hey!  So that night you weren’t even watching a Toronto, Game 7, Stanley Cup game?!  R you sure you’re from Toronto?  Pilates?  Wow! Just Wow!”  Auston shakes his head, teasing Dr Quinn.

Dr Quinn laughs and in a matter-of-fact voice pleads her case, “Hey!  I told you. I’ve been buried under a rock of medical studies, research, surgeries and being a doctor.  What can I say?  I have no life.  But wait! I seem to recall that as I arrived home from my class that particular night, I was going to put on the TV to check the score of your said ‘game seven’ when someone interrupted me from my ‘hockey game watching.’ Apparently, that SOMEONE needed me to do a little operation.”  Dr Quinn smirks confidently.

“Oh, so you ARE Canadian, after all!  I was really starting to wonder.”  He writes, teasing her.

“But seriously?  The tail end of a game 7 was the best you could do?!  You’re barely hanging on to your citizenship Doctor”,  Auston adds in jest.

“Looks like someone needs to pull you out from under that rock, Dr Quinn.”  Auston writes teasing her again.

“Yeah, I’m starting to realise that”,  She replies.

“So, what are you doing after Pilates?  Not to be nosey.  Just trying to live vicariously through you since I’ll be laying here in a hospital bed while you’re out there free”, Auston fibs.

“Sorry to disappoint, but not much, I’m afraid.  I will probably just get something to eat, return some texts, read or watch tv.”

“Do you have kids?” He writes, hoping his questions will just come off as light conversation.

“Nope.  No kids.  No husband.” She answers.

Auston is thrilled but doesn’t let on.

“A boyfriend?”  He dares to ask.

“Nope.  No boyfriend.”  She responds with a nervous laugh.  She again feels slightly uncomfortable but convinces herself he’s just asking cause he’s bored.

She surprises herself when she questions Auston back, “And you?”  She hopes he just takes it as an innocent back and forth.

“Nope, neither, either and no kids.”  He writes.

They both smile nervously, hoping that their happiness over such revelations isn’t detected by the other.

“Well you have fun laying here in bed, and I’ll have fun doing pilates, eating and not having a life.” She tells him.

Auston thinks she is so cute.  He writes on his board, “Ha!  Okay, it sounds like we’re both living our best life!”

“We sure are!  I’ll see you tomorrow, Auston and we’ll get you breathing again soon.  Oh, that is if you still need me for the breathing exercises.  Probably not, right?  You’re good with Dr Wright now, right?”  She has to laugh at all the “rights” she used there.  She is giddy and nervous and doesn’t want to acknowledge to herself why.

He writes, “Wrong! No.  I need you still.  Pls. We’re a team.  Remember?”

“You’re right, Auston! We are a team.” She tells him shocked by the feeling of warmth running through her body.

Auston smiles huge. He thinks she is adorable.

Needing to escape, Dr Quinn announces, “Anyways; I’ll be back here at 10 am.  Sleep well, Auston.  Oh, and I’ll send your parents back in.  Okay?”

“Yes, I’m going to ask them to go home for the evening and get some sleep.  I need some time alone, and they do as well.”  He writes to her.

Ignoring every warning going off in her brain, she swallows, “I see. Sounds good, Auston.  Can I see your board for a minute?”  

Auston hands her his whiteboard and marker, looking at her, curious as to why she needs it.

She writes something on it quickly, flips it over, hands it back to him and blushing, walks away, saying, “Okay Auston.  Sweet dreams. I’ll send them in.”

Auston watches Dr Quinn leave the room and quickly turns the board over, excited to read what she has written.  

“29” is all it reads.

[forksofwisdom]

Embers of the Sun - chapter 4

Story Summary: Bella Swan, the new student at Forks High, is ready to graduate. She was prepared for a boring year and just wanted to make a couple of friends. Why are there mutant Wolverines running around the woods of La Push? And why do all the handsome men she meets look at her with such unbridled horror? An imprinting AU where Bella moves to Forks two years later than in canon. 

Pairings: Bella/Paul, eventual Angela/Leah

You can also read the story on ff.net!

(chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3)

Not beta read!

Chapter summary: First day of school, Angela turns out to be a gift from the gods and the Cullen siblings… not so much. 

Chapter 4 - Meet the Cullens

The first discovery Bella made on Friday morning while walking from her front door to her truck was that the coat she’d brought from Arizona was not waterproof. It was pouring buckets, and she shivered as the raindrops pierced through the fabric of her coat and drenched the hoodie she was wearing underneath. Her second discovery was that dressing up for school had been a horrible decision; she’d worn her converse shoes that day and had landed in a puddle the moment she’d stepped out of her truck in the school parking lot. 

With a growl, Bella slammed shut her door and jumped onto dry land. She fumbled with her keys as she tried to shake the water from her shoes and felt like crying when she dropped them into the puddle. People were starting to stare, so Bella pulled up her hood to hide her misery and fished her keys up. She was tempted to pull the ties of her hoodie to cover her face entirely as she approached the front office to get her schedule. The school was a collection of matching square buildings. They were all the made from the same maroon-colored bricks and surrounded by trees and shrubs. Bella’s mood did not lift; the heavy rain clouds made everything seem so dreary and cold. Her foul expression was enough to keep anyone from approaching her, but she made an effort to clear her face before greeting the receptionist. 

The office has a small waiting room, equipped with folding chairs and a bulletin board, which displayed the words: Respect, Integrity, and Commitment. Underneath that was the school motto, ‘WE ARE ALL SPARTANS’, written in bright yellow letters.

“Isabella Swan, welcome,” said the squat woman sitting behind the desk before Bella had time to introduce herself. “Your father informed me you were coming.” Shelly Cope, her nameplate sat on the corner of her desk, had red hair and wore glasses that made her eyes seem small. Her impartial smile informed Bella that there wouldn’t be any small talk. 

Good, Bella thought.

“Yes, I’m here for my schedule,” Bella said. The secretary pushed away from the table and rolled her chair over to the printer and pulled out some paper that she stapled together before showing it to Bella.

“Here you are. I’ve put a map in there as well.” She flipped it from underneath Bella’s schedule to show her the school’s layout. ”Your first class is 12th grade English, and it’s held in Building 3, room six. Mr. Berty, your teacher, will provide you with all the material you need for his class.” The dismissal was evident in her voice, and Bella thanked her before heading out into the rain again. 

She shielded her papers from the worst of it and was grateful that Building 3 was the closest to the secretary office. 

“Bella!” 

Bella looked up at the sound of her name and saw it was Angela. They’d been about to enter the same building, and Bella nearly jogged into her when she paused to open the door. Angela held the door for her and their shoes squeaked against the linoleum floor, leaving wet footprints as they sought refuge from the rain.

“Hi, Angela,” Bella breathed. 

“I didn’t think I would see you so soon,” Angela said pleasantly. She pulled down the hood of her raincoat and unzipped it to shake her hair out. Her glasses were starting to fog up from the rise in temperature. “What class do you have?”

“English,” Bella answered.

“With Mr. Berty? Me too.” Angela was familiar with the hallways, and Bella let her guide them to classroom six. There were a handful of students loitering outside the classroom, sluggish and heavy-lidded as they waited for the bell to ring. Angela waved to them, and the jerked their heads and mumbled an unenthusiastic greeting. Bella would fit in nicely here. She was already exhausted after having spent the entire night tossing and turning in bed from first-day-of-school jitters.

“What kind of teacher is he?” Bella asked her and sent the gathered students a stiff smile. Like Ms. Cope, they didn’t seem surprised to see her and shot her furtive sidelong glances.

The bell rang, signaling the start of class.

“I guess you’ll see for yourself,” Angela said apologetically as a tall man with graying hair opened the door from the inside. He must be Mr. Berty. He waved them inside with little fanfare, and Bella saw that he was wearing a tweed suit jacket with elbow patches and plaid pants. He looked like he could either be the type who believed that his own brilliance was wasted as a high school teacher or was simply eccentric. Bella hoped it was the latter.

They filed into a standard looking classroom. It was smaller than Bella was used to. Posters made by previous students covered the white walls, and the wooden tables were organized into three neat rows. They only allowed two students to sit side by side. Mr. Berty returned to his desk and Bella approached him while the students took their seats.  

“Who might you be?” Mr. Berty asked, peering at her over his reading glasses.

“I’m the new student, Isabella Swan,” Bella said, and he nodded.

“Ah, yes. Here is the lesson plan for this term,” Mr. Berty said, and Bella was relieved that he wasn’t about to make her stand in front of the class and introduce herself like they were still in grade school. Instead, he did something much worse. “You might as well hand them out to the rest of the class. Take a seat once you’ve finished so we can get started.”

Bella took the stack of paper silently and made quick work of handing them out while Mr. Berty did the roll call. She avoided making eye contact with anyone, but her school bag hung off her elbow awkwardly, and it bumped against the tables every other step she took. She approached Angela last. She’d saved her a seat and Bella slid the sheet of paper over to her with a grateful smile.

“Now that we’re all here, there will be no mercy today even though it’s our first day. This is a double period class, and I see no point in wasting it by giving you a few more minutes of recess.” Mr. Berty clapped his hands together, making the half-asleep student jerk in their seats. He appeared to regain vigor from the sound of their groans. They’d all been hoping that he’d let them off easy today. “We’ll be focusing on Shakespeare’s work for the majority of the year but rest assured there will be plenty of opportunity for essay writing and presentations.” Mr. Berty smiled when his students slumped lower into their seats, their misery apparent.

The rest of his lecture continued in that fashion, and Bella wondered why teachers felt the need to tell their students everything that was written in the lesson plan. It must be a rite of passage to waste everyone’s time during the first day back. They were nearing the end of their first period when Mr. Bert finally stopped talking. He split them into pairs to 'work on their communication skills' as he put it.

Bella thanked the universe for already being acquainted with Angela because they shared a furtive grin and tackled the task at hand without needing any awkward introductions. They were supposed to compare their favorite work of fiction and discuss the differences and merits of each book. It turned out they both shared a love for Jane Austen so filling out the worksheet was a breeze. Angela chose Sense and Sensibility while Pride and Prejudice continued to be Bella’s favorite. They were in the midst of discussing the differences between Elinor Dashwood level-headedness and Elizabeth Bennet’s playful impertinence and drawing the similarities of their passionate nature when the bell rang. 

“I’ve never met anyone who’s into Austen as much as I am,” Angela told Bella after they’d handed their worksheet to Mr. Berty.

“Me neither,” Bella said. It was true, Bella had spent hours reading and re-reading the novels in her youth but had been crushed to realize that none of her old classmates shared her interest in the classics. “Now, you have to be honest with me because this question will be a deciding factor for me to keep you as my friend or not.” Bella’s tone was mockingly grim, and Angela caught on quickly and assumed a serious face. “Fuck, marry, kill; Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Collin?”

Angela burst out laughing, blushing lightly at Bella’s crude language. “Oh, one is easy; kill Mr. Collins, but I always had a little bit of a crush on the Colonel after having seen the BBC adaptation from 1995,” she mused, making Bella gasp with delight.

“You’ve seen it?” Bella asked with uncontainable delight. She’d watched the series so many times that Renée refused to watch it with her anymore. She forgot her nervousness. “I don’t care who you fuck or marry; you are officially my best friend!”

Angela seemed just as eager as Bella. “I’ve got the special edition with restored colors and commentary,” she admitted in a shy voice, and Bella looped their arms together, letting Angela lead their way to their next class, which was American History.

“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Bella joked, and Angela nodded in agreement. 

Their history lesson passed quickly; their teacher was as eager for the break as the students and promptly dismissed them after giving them the rundown of the course. Bella and Angela continued their conversation, and soon they’d made plans to meet up sometime and watch Angela’s entire Jane Austen film and tv-series adaptations together. Making friends wasn't so hard as Bella had initially thought. She was so relieved to have found a kindred spirit in Angela that she forgot to be worried about lunch.

They were sitting at one of the tables located in almost every corner of the hallways around the school and Bella was getting to know Angela a little better. Angela had lived in Forks her entire life; her father was the Lutheran minister, and her mother worked as an accountant for a small local business. She also had twin brothers, Joshua and Isaac, who could be very rambunctious and trying at times but Bella could hear the affection in her voice as she recounted all of their mischiefs. Angela was just getting into the swing of things, telling Bella about the time her brothers had put a lobster in the cradle as Baby Jesus before the start of the annual Christmas play when they were interrupted.

“Yo, Angie!” A blond haired boy called with unnecessary loudness. He strutted down the hallway towards them with two other guys. He perked up at the sight of Bella and 

“Hi, I’m Mike,” he said and held out his hand for her to shake. He was smiling at her with a little too much interest and Bella heaved an internal sigh. 

“Guys this is Bella.” Angela, bless her heart, took it upon herself to make the introductions. “Bella this is Austin-” she gestured to the acne-ridden sandy-haired boy who raised his hand in greeting. “- and this is Ben.” The short, black haired boy shot Bella an awkward smile as he sat down next to Angela and entwined their fingers together. Bella blinked. Angela hadn’t mentioned having a boyfriend. 

“So, Bella-” Mike started to drawl.

“Where’s Jessica?” Angela asked Mike pointedly, cutting him off. He shrunk back and rubbed the back of his neck guiltily.

“She went with Lauren to save us a good table in the Mess,” Mike said. “She told us to go and find you. Your schedule is messed up; we hardly have any classes together. Ben here was starting to pine for you by the third period.”

Angela laughed awkwardly, tightening her grip on Ben and patted the back of his hand with her free hand. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t have met Bella otherwise. Besides, we have photography together next class,” she reassured Ben and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. He blushed.

“C’mon, I’m starving,” Austin groaned, and they got up. Angela disentangled herself from Ben and fell into step with Bella. He didn’t seem to mind and took to discussing the new chapter of some superhero novel with Austin. Bella couldn’t help but notice that Angela was an entire head taller than her boyfriend, who was about as tall as herself. 

The mess hall was starting to fill with hungry students, and they took their place in the forming queue to get their meal. The other students had food stamps, and Angela loaned Bella one of hers when she realized that she hadn’t brought any money.

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” Bella promised after thanking her. Angela shook her head and reassured her that it wasn’t necessary. Bella didn’t dare take the time to examine what the school had to offer with a line behind her and picked the same stuff as Angela. They headed for a table that was occupied by two pretty girls and two guys who were both wearing varsity jackets.

“Hey, Lauren, Jessica; this is Bella. She’s new here,” Angela introduced Bella when they took their seats.

“We know,” the girl with white blonde hair, Lauren, said. She seemed to dismiss Bella after giving her a once over with sharp green eyes and leaned into the dark-skinned boy sitting beside her. He tried to tangle his fingers in her hair, but she jerked her head away with a warning glare. He rolled his eyes and introduced himself as Tyler Crowley.

“Hi!” a brunette with voluminous curls waved cheerfully to Bella when she took a seat across from her. Mike had his arm around her shoulders. She must be Jessica. “Don’t mind, Lauren. She’s not good with new people.”

“Shut up, Jess,” Lauren scoffed, but there wasn’t any heat behind her words. Angela, who was sitting next to Bella, raised her eyebrows in a ‘what-can-you-do’ way and Bella stifled her smile.

“Hey, Conner,” Mike shared a fist bump with the other guy.

“Yo, dude. Did you catch the game last night?” Conner asked, licking his spoon free of yogurt. 

“The Seahawks got slaughtered, man,” Tyler laughed, and Mike buried his face in his hands with a groan.

“Don’t remind me.” Mike shook his head, and they launched into a heated argument over which team player was to blame for their defeat. Jessica rolled her eyes and leaned forward to tell Angela about what kind of morning she’d had. Apparently, she’d found a dead squirrel on her front porch.

“- I literally died,” Jessica said dramatically, and Lauren grimaced with disgust.

“What did you do with it?” 

“Dad got a stick and took it into the woods. It was super gross; it didn't have any eyes!” Jessica said with too much relish for a girl who was supposedly traumatized by the event. 

Bella nibbled on the side of her cafeteria bland pizza slice and realized that she was sitting with the popular cheerleaders and jocks. It was an absurd thought because she’d spent years making fun of their type. She couldn’t help but think that Jessica and Lauren were both shallow, but then again; she hadn’t known them for more than twenty minutes. 

It was a weird moment for her.

“So, we’re graduating soon. Have any, like, plans?” Lauren asked the entire table. She was obviously the leader here because the other conversations came to a stop to join hers. Lauren didn’t seem too interested in knowing their goals because she immediately launched into her own plans once she had their attention. “I’m going to Canada.”

“Lauren was scouted by a model agency in Victoria this summer,” Angela explained in a hushed voice when she noticed Bella’s confusion. Lauren seemed genuinely excited by the prospect, and she even let Tyler touch her hair when he pressed a kiss to her lips. Bella looked away at their display of affection.

“You’re going places, babe.”

“I’m going to attend uni in Seattle,” Ben said and the rest of the table seemed to have similar plans.

“I’m thinking about getting a degree in communications and maybe entertainment. I really want to have my own talk show one day,” Jessica piped up with a dreamy smile.

“Then you can interview me once I’m famous,” Lauren laughed, and Jessica joined her with a strained smile. Bella sensed a bit of jealousy coming from Jessica and wondered if it was because Laura was the more popular one.

“Totally!”

“What about you, Bella?” Mike asked her and Bella was suddenly the focal point of the entire table.

“Um, I’m going to university and maybe become a teacher.” She shrugged, flushing a little underneath their attention.

“Me too,” Angela said. “I want to be a kindergarten teacher.”

“What do you think the Cullens are going to do?” Jessica asked, and Bella was left behind at the leap in the conversation. She had no idea who the Cullens were, but it seemed like a favorite subject of Jessica’s because there was a gleam in her eyes while the others rolled their eyes. The atmosphere soured even further when Lauren spoke.

“Who cares? They don’t need jobs because they’re all rich and beautiful,” she sneered.

“Speak of the devil,” Mike muttered, and Bella looked up.

A lanky young man and what appeared to be a child at first glance had just entered the mess hall. A closer look told Bella that the girl wasn’t a child but around her age and was just unfortunately short and thin to the extremes. Despite this they looked like a pair of runway models who’d gotten lost on their way to the catwalk and somehow ended up in Forks, Washington instead. Bella couldn’t believe they were still in high school with features like that. Maybe it was the way they dressed, but they appeared years older than the rest of the student population. They walked with the kind of confidence rarely seen in a teenager, and there wasn’t a blemish in sight. They were both deathly pale, and the girl reminded Bella of a pixie; she appeared to float across the room with the graceful steps of a skilled dancer. 

Bella felt a twinge of envy at her coordination. Some people just had it all.

Her companion was just as fetching. He was devastatingly handsome with windswept hair that was the most unusual shade of copper. Heads turned as they walked past but they didn’t seem to care, getting a tray of food and taking a seat in the corner. They slouched elegantly in their chairs and stared in separate directions in stony silence. 

Were these the Cullens? Bella was almost afraid to ask at this point. 

Sound returned to the room, and slowly the students returned to their conversations, shooting the Cullens glances as they put their heads together to whisper and giggle about something; most likely how hot they were.

Jessica sighed before she caught herself and shot Mike a guilty glance. He'd been checking out the pixie Cullen, and Jessica elbowed him in the gut. Mike winced.

“Are they related?” Bella wondered. They didn’t look remotely similar beyond their pale skin and good looks.

“Oh, no,” Jessica answered, eager to dish out their dirty secrets. “Dr. Cullen adopted them, that’s Alice and Edward Cullen, but they have three other siblings who graduated last year. Emmett Cullen, and the Hale twins; Rosalie and Jasper.” Jessica leaned in like she was about to share something scandalous, sending the Cullens an eager look. “They’re all like, together together.”

“Wait, like romantically?” Bella asked.

“It’s really weird,” Jessica nodded and was put out when she saw that Bella didn’t share her disgust.

“Well, you said that they’re not related,” Bella said slowly. Call her a romantic, but she believed that love could be found in the most unexpected places.

“It’s weird,” Jessica asserted before resuming her gossiping. “Alice and Jasper are together, and so are Emmett and Rosalie but Edward is like the only one who’s single,” she said and looked at Edward with a hungry expression. “He’s never shown anyone interest though because apparently, no one is good enough for him.” She blushed and drew back to fold her arms against her chest. Mike glared at Edward Cullen and pulled Jessica to him, which seemed to cheer her up. “Whatever, it’s not like I care.” Her sour expression gave away that she wasn’t as unaffected as she pretended. Bella didn’t know what to say to this. 

She glanced at the Cullens again and met the golden eyes of Alice. Her large doe eyes were alight with some indiscernible emotion, and she whispered something to her brother, not taking her eyes off of Bella. Bella looked down at her plate quickly, embarrassed at having been caught but a quick glance told her that Edward was watching her as well. He didn’t seem to share his sister’s excitement and glared at Bella. Humiliated, she felt like a sideshow freak when they kept staring at her.

“Bella, what class do you have next?” Angela offered Bella an out from the awkward silence.

“I have Spanish,” she said after consulting her schedule. It had been an obvious choice because Bella had taken it in Phoenix, as it is the second most common language spoken in California and Arizona. “What about you?” Bella asked, and Angela reminded her that she had photography with Ben after lunch.

“I’m taking French,” Lauren piped up. She buffed her nails against her blouse without looking up. Jessica appeared to have gotten over her herself and her good mood was restored.

“So am I!” she said brightly. “Mike, you have trig right?” 

“Don’t remind me,” he moaned and looked over at Connor and Tyler. “Do you guys remember anything from last year?”

“Nope.” They didn’t appear to be bothered by the fact and started to pile their trash onto their trays when the bell rang to signal the end of lunch. 

Bella’s map came in handy when she was forced to split up with Angela, who’d been her guide up to this moment. She arrived at the correct classroom in the nick of time. Mrs. Geoff, the Spanish teacher, greeted her enthusiastically and made her stand in front of the class and introduce herself in Spanish. Bella wanted to sink into the floor, but her grasp on Spanish was good enough, and she was able to rattle off some inane facts about herself.

“¡Te felicito! Tu trabajo está muy bien hecho,” the teacher exclaimed and received blank-eyed stares from her students.

“Gracias, señora,” Bella said and quickly went to the only seat available. She nearly swallowed her tongue when she saw Alice Cullen sitting in the chair next to hers. Bella sat down and gave Alice an awkward smile, which she returned trifold, nearly blinding Bella with the beauty of it. Her teeth were straight and a pearly white. Bella had the urge to go and brush her teeth, feeling self-conscious.

“So your name is Bella?” Alice asked, her voice sounding like wind chimes. Bella got lost in her eyes for a moment. Bella had never seen such an unusual eye color; they were a stunning liquid gold. She shook herself out of her daze when she realized Alice was waiting for an answer.

“Sí,” Bella replied jokingly. 

“How wonderful.” Alice’s smile widened impossibly. She seemed oddly thrilled about learning Bella’s name because she laughed with delight at the simple introduction. Even her laugh was beautiful.

Mrs. Geoff spoke in Spanish throughout the class, but Bella had a hard time focusing. Alice was the most beautiful creature she’d ever met, with her pale skin and red. She reminded Bella of a miniature Snow White.

Alice didn’t pay attention to Mrs. Geoff either because she kept asking Bella questions in a low whisper. Bella was a little flattered by it. The rest of the students seemed stunned to see Alice voluntarily talking to another human being outside her own family. Mrs. Geoff didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. 

“What color were you thinking about?” Alice’s question brought Bella back. They’d somehow gotten onto the topic of interior design. Bella had learned that Alice was a fashion enthusiast with a thing for decorations, and had let slip that she was thinking about painting the wall in her room to add a little warmth to it.

“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Bella admitted.

“Well, I recommend you go to Benjamin Moore in Port Angeles and look at their swatches. Here, let me give you my number in case you need help picking out the right color,” Alice said as the bell rang. She ripped some paper from her notebook and scribbled her mobile number on it and gave it to Bella.

“I don’t have a phone,” Bella said dumbly.

“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” Alice dismissed. “There are plenty of places that sell them.”

“Thanks.” Bella blinked, feeling like she’d been caught in a whirlwind.

“No, problem,” Alice smiled and waved as she headed in the other direction. “I’ll see you around, Bella!”

“See ya,” Bella said weakly. She got caught in the flow of students and walked with them in a slight daze.

Alice was a little overwhelming. It was apparent that she was the type who knew what she wanted and had no issues with getting it. It was an admirable trait, but Bella was a little shell-shocked after taking the brunt of her attention. Yes, Alice was persistent for someone her size but otherwise harmless. Mostly.

Bella soon learned that the same could not be said about her brother.

Biology class started out fine. Mr. Banner, the teacher, handed Bella her book and bade her take a seat without making her introduce herself using the theme of the subject as Mrs. Geoff had done. It would have made an interesting introduction: “Hi, my name is Isabella Swan, but call me Bella. I started out as a zygote inside my mother’s womb and developed into a human through the wonderful process of mitosis and meiosis. I’m also a Virgo.”

The only seat available was next to one Edward Cullen. 

Everything rolled downhill after that.

Bella couldn’t help but stare at him when she walked between the aisles. Edward’s chiseled features belonged in renaissance paintings or on statues of Greek deities, crafted by master sculptors, not in this backwoods high school. Bella had never seen anyone as handsome as him. It was disquieting, and it provoked something indescribable inside her. 

He looked like an angel. 

When she drew near, his nostrils suddenly flared, and his head jerked up. Edward glared at her with monstrous black eyes, his pupil indiscernible from their darkness, and his face contorted like he’d smelled something foul. He went so far as to lean away from Bella as far as his seat allowed him when she sat down next to him.

Her heart gave a painful squeeze of mortification, and she quickly looked down at the tabletop, her hair falling forward to hide her face. She tried to subtly sniff her shirt to see if she stunk and was a little insulted when she smelled nothing out of the ordinary. Sure, Bella didn’t smell like her usual strawberry shampoo, having forgotten to pick it up at the store, but she wasn’t smelly, and her natural musk was too faint for Edward to smell from this distance. Maybe he was sick; he certainly looked like he was in agony. 

She drew a breath and was about to ask him if he needed the nurse when a tantalizing sweet scent wafted towards her, similar to the one his sister bore. Her mind felt fuzzy, and Bella was drawn towards it like a bee to honey, but the look in Edward’s soulless eyes spelled death. It was a spine-chilling experience. 

Bella looked away quickly. She took it back; Edward wasn’t a beautiful angel, not at that moment. He was an archangel, cast out of heaven and turned demonic. He didn’t look human.

Maybe he just has bad gas, she thought to herself, feeling the beginnings of hysteria creeping on her. Twenty minutes dragged past, and Bella kept one eye on the clock and the beast beside her. She hadn’t heard a word of what Mr. Banner was saying, distracted by the murderous intent emanating from Edward. He hadn’t moved, frozen in his odd hunched position. Bella doubted that he was even breathing; his chest wasn’t moving, and his hand was covering his mouth and nose. He certainly wasn’t blinking.

Fear. That was the feeling Edward provoked inside her; a deep primitive fear that urged Bella to either leap out of the window to get away from him or to pick up her pencil and stab it into those unnatural black eyes of his. Bella was not a violent person by nature so the sudden desire to attack a classmate, no matter how creepy, took her by surprise.

What was happening to her? Bella didn’t know, but she knew it had something to do with Edward. She refused to take this anymore; Edward Cullen had no right to affect her like this. Bella stood up and walked to Mr. Banner’s desk for her escape. He looked up at her, and she didn’t have to fake her nervous smile.

“Excuse me, sir. Can I go to the bathroom?” she asked in a low voice.

“Certainly,” Mr. Banner said and handed her a hall pass.

“Thank you,” Bella said and hurried out of the room. One last look at Edward almost sent her running. He was no longer straining back but leaning forwards like a predator readying itself to leap onto its prey. He looked like he wanted to eat her.

Bella settled for a brisk pace down the corridor instead of hightailing out of the school like she wanted to. She was halfway down the hallway when Alice Cullen, of all people, rounded the corner. She was speaking anxiously into her phone, and Bella caught a bit of her end of the conversation when they walked past each other. “-can’t see him, Carlisle. Hi, Bella!” Alice wiggled her fingers at her but didn’t slow down, which suited Bella just fine. She’d had enough of the Cullens today. “No. I’m getting him now.” 

Him? Did she mean Edward? If so, Bella hoped she was taking him to the hospital for a rabies shot. He was clearly feral.

She made it to the bathroom without any hindrance and locked herself in one of the stalls. It offered her a bare minimum of protection, but at least no one could see her. If you can’t see it, it’s not there - it being a black-eyed monster in this case. The irrational thought was exactly what Bella needed to calm down. She stared blankly at the scribbles on the stall door as she wrangled her thundering heart under control. Someone had written in looping cursive about, oddly enough, the militia movements of the Confederate Army in the Civil War. It was signed J. W. at the bottom, and Bella sent a silent thank-you to them for the distraction. 

Five minutes passed faster than she liked and Bella was forced to return to the Biology classroom. She felt like she was heading towards the gallows.

Edward was nowhere in sight, and Bella was faint with relief. She returned her hall pass with shaking hands and returned to her seat. Feeling brave, she vindictively took the chair Edward had occupied. It was silly, but it gave Bella a small measure of comfort; how evil could he be if his presence hadn't left behind a tainted mark.

Bella’s thought hadn’t even finished when she noticed hairline fractures in the wood extending from the place where Edward had gripped the desk. Had he broken the counter? It seemed a bit excessive, but Edward must really not like her. She ran her fingers on the underside of the wood and found finger size groves embedded there. 

Her breath came fast and shallow, and Bella was on the verge of hyperventilating when she caught a flash of copper in her peripheral vision. Her mind had evidently associated the color with Edward, and rightly so, because her head snapped to the side, afraid that he was coming for her again. Alice was frog marching Edward across the car park. It would have been a comical sight, Edward’s lanky height dwarfed Alice’s tiny form, if Bella wasn’t freaking out. Alice led him towards the woods for some reason. Didn’t they have a car?

Then something astonishing happened; Alice pushed her brother forward with unnatural strength and his shape blurred as he took off at a sprint. With the same supernatural speed, Alice followed suit, and they were both gone before Bella had time to blink.

The only thing keeping Bella grounded was the grip she still had on the table, her fingers fitting into the indentations Edward had left behind. 

It was proof that she hadn’t lost her mind.

A/N: I don’t speak Spanish and neither does anyone else in my family so don’t hesitate to correct me if what Mrs. Goff said was incorrect!  

Next chapter: Momma Renée gives life advice, and dinner at Billy’s turns into an eye-opening experience, featuring Bella; the amazing grocery mountaineer.

[billyagogo]

A survivor. A funeral director. A marriage divided. How Americans' COVID experiences shape their votes

New Post has been published on https://newsprofixpro.com/moxie/2020/11/03/a-survivor-a-funeral-director-a-marriage-divided-how-americans-covid-experiences-shape-their-votes/

A survivor. A funeral director. A marriage divided. How Americans' COVID experiences shape their votes

In Wisconsin, a funeral home director who has watched the COVID-19 pandemic rip through her community can only blame President Trump.

In Texas, little can change one woman’s loyalty to the president — not even her own struggle for breath as she lay in a hospital bed.

In New Mexico, an underemployed firearms instructor plans to cast his vote as a rebuke to Democrats he says were overzealous in closing businesses.

In Arizona, a Joe Biden voter found political detente with his Republican wife as the lingering effects of infection continue to cause them pain.

In Michigan, a school bus driver won over by the president before the pandemic deepened her devotion and took up arms to protest shutdowns.

Even before the coronavirus sunk in its teeth, the United States was deeply polarized. Facts mattered less than feelings and political parties acted like tribes.

The virus — a shared, microscopic enemy that demanded a unified response — offered the nation a chance to come together. But from face masks to shutdowns, the pandemic quickly became the main thing Americans were fighting over.

As the death toll grew so did anxieties about who would win the presidency.

Election day arrives as the virus surges like never before, with an average of more than 80,000 new cases reported each day last week — well over previous spikes and up more than 44% from two weeks earlier.

Once concentrated in urban centers like New York and later in Sun Belt states, the virus is now ravaging the rural Midwest and Rocky Mountain states.

Field hospitals have been pitched in parking lots from Texas to Wisconsin. In the past week, hospitalizations reached new highs in 18 different states.

Treatment is improving and infections are increasingly concentrated in younger people with high odds of survival, but experts predict a significant rise in the U.S. death toll, which now tops 230,000.

The surge poses a dilemma for officials trying to balance health concerns with economic ones as the public grows wary of more forced shutdowns.

Polls suggest that most voters have made up their minds — and record numbers have already cast their ballots.

All of the issues that divided America before coronavirus have been eclipsed.

This is the pandemic election. And these are the stories of five voters.

The funeral home director The first call came in late March.

A 70-year-old had died shortly after being taken off a ventilator. Michelle Pitts sent a hearse to pick up his body from the hospital.

Michelle Pitts, owner of New Pitts Mortuary, stands outside her Milwaukee funeral home.

(Kurtis Lee / Los Angeles Times)

There would be no funeral, just a burial at the cemetery attended by three relatives. The family was too worried about contagion.

Pitts was left with the feeling that “this virus was going to be bad.”

The calls kept coming, at all hours. Pitts could only watch as the coronavirus spread through the neighborhood. As owner of the New Pitts Mortuary, she has been serving the predominantly Black northside of Milwaukee since the 1990s.

The disproportionate toll the virus was taking on Black people was obvious to her. The two dozen victims her funeral home has handled included bus drivers, nurses and grocery clerks — essential workers who didn’t have the luxury of sheltering in place.

“If you live in this community, you know someone who has either contracted the virus, or died,” she said. “It’s an American tragedy plain and simple.”

As the months wore on, Pitts couldn’t stop thinking about the ages of the deceased. Early 50s. Mid-40s. Late 30s.

She herself was 60.

Pitts remembered the expression of the parent standing over the oak casket of a beloved son, who days earlier was taken off a ventilator. She recalled the woman whose husband died before he could line up a life insurance policy to help take care of the couple’s two young children should something happen to him.

How are they doing now, she wondered?

To sustain herself, she often recited her favorite scripture, a section of Psalm 23: “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.”

In late October, she filled out her ballot.

There was never any doubt that she would vote for Biden. In her view Trump had only responded to the pandemic with callousness.

She deposited the ballot in a nearby drop box.

“I felt like a weight was kind of lifted off my shoulders,” she said. “As if it was my time to be heard.”

— Kurtis Lee

The survivor It had become her evening ritual: Order dinner from Doordash, mix a cocktail, draw a bath and pretend she was swimming in her complex’s off-limits pool.

“It just became very lonely,” said Jaime Vollmar, 35.

Meanwhile, her hours as an operating room technician at two plastic surgery clinics were severely cut.

It all seemed overblown to Vollmar. She knew friends who had contracted the coronavirus, but nobody who died from it.

Then, in early October, Vollmar and her boyfriend decided to take a risk and get together for dinner with another couple. The woman hosting began to feel ill that night, and within days called to tell Vollmar she and her husband had tested positive for the virus.

Vollmar also tested positive.

After two weeks of feeling “like death” at home, Vollmar was admitted to United Memorial Medical Center in Houston. During sleepless nights, she struggled to breathe as she watched a monitor showing her blood oxygen level drop.

She began to wonder: “Am I actually going to survive this?”

Her second priority was making it to the polls to vote in person.

She had supported Trump in 2016 and appreciated all he had done on immigration, the economy, even the pandemic.

“He did a great job. He’s human,” she said, adding that her bout with the virus “gives me more appreciation for him.”

Jamie Vollmar was admitted to United Memorial Medical Center in Houston after contracting COVID-19.

(Molly Hennessy-Fiske / Los Angeles Times)

Vollmar was released from the hospital Friday. At the polls, she plans to “be a dork” about safety and wear a mask, keep a distance of six feet and encourage others to take more precautions.

Looking back, Vollmar believes that she might have contracted the virus when she tasted the dinner host’s new vaping flavor — watermelon strawberry bubblegum.

“It was a heavenly flavor,” she said from her hospital bed. “But not worth all this.”

— Molly Hennessy-Fiske

The expectant father Marcos Sanchez was irked.

Driving by the local hardware store in the early days of the pandemic, he’d see lines of hundreds of people waiting to get in.

Yet Sanchez, a 35-year-old firearms instructor in Española, a small city tucked in the mountains of northern New Mexico, wasn’t allowed to work after an order from the state’s Democratic governor closed all businesses except those deemed essential.

Sanchez, who had been steadily growing his business for two years, had no income for three months straight.

“It’s frustrating because they’re raking in money and I’m struggling,” he said.

The way Sanchez sees it, the pandemic was an act of God. The shutdowns were an act of man.

Under current restrictions, he can work again, but must limit his shooting and self-defense classes to a quarter of normal capacity. With a second child on the way, he’s now contemplating whether his business can continue.

“I’m not blind or ignorant to the damage that the virus has done, but I see the damage it’s done economically and that leads to a whole lot of other problems,” he said.

Rio Arriba County, where Sanchez lives, went for Hillary Clinton in 2016 — 64% versus 24% for Trump. But Sanchez plans to vote for Trump, like he did four years ago.

His decision is largely based on his opposition to firearm restrictions and his religious beliefs, particularly his objection to abortion. But the pandemic has also played a role.

Trump is not a perfect candidate, he said. He thinks no candidate ever is. But most important for him are the kinds of policies a person will enact once they are in office, and Trump has opposed widespread economic shutdowns in the face of the virus.

“You have to ask what’s worse,” he said. “The virus or the constant anxiety we’ve been putting ourselves in?”

— Kate Linthicum

The activist Bill Whitmire had to leave for a doctor’s appointment, but his keys were nowhere to be found.

It’d been months since he felt clear-headed. Lapses in memory and reasoning — so uncharacteristic for a 56-year-old who prided himself on being organized — had become the norm.

He chalked it up to the coronavirus, which he believes he contracted back in January, before testing was available in the United States.

His wife, Ann, came down with the virus in June. She still faces bouts of nausea, body aches and feeling like she has no energy.

The pandemic brought the couple closer together — and not just in their shared suffering.

She is Republican and he is a Democrat, which seemed like less of an issue when they got married back in the 1980s than it did in 2016, when she voted for Trump and he went for Clinton.

“Sometimes we have to agree to disagree,” he said.

Whitmire kept an open mind about Trump in the beginning but grew increasingly disenchanted with him — especially after the pandemic struck.

As a former high school biology teacher, Whitmire was appalled by White House news conferences, in which Trump repeatedly contradicted his own health experts.

“He acts like he’s cured the virus: ‘We’ve rounded the corner, it’ll be over soon, live your life,’” Whitmire said. “Yeah, right.”

For the most part, Whitmire and his wife avoided conversations about Trump and kept focus on their common values of compassion and helping the less fortunate. But it was clear that Ann was losing faith in the president too.

Whenever her husband would turn on a presidential news conference, she would leave the room in disgust.

Anger and grief turned Whitmire into an activist. He joined Marked by COVID, a support group for people who have lost relatives or suffered other effects of the virus. On Friday at the Arizona state Capitol in Phoenix, he lit candles honoring victims and listened as a woman who survived — but lost her sister — sang a haunting rendition of “Amazing Grace.”

“I will never forget it,” he said.

Ann, still ailing, did not attend.

When they they both filled out their ballots in mid-October, he enthusiastically marked his for Biden.

She made him promise not to tell anyone who got her vote, only that it was not Trump.

— Richard Read

The militia member Michelle Gregoire stood guard outside Karl Manke’s Barber & Beauty Shop with a 9mm semiautomatic pistol and a flag emblazoned “Don’t tread on me.”

Manke had no intention of following state orders to close this past May as coronavirus infections were climbing. Gregoire and dozens of other members of a militia known as the Michigan Home Guard were there to keep out the authorities.

She had long been disillusioned with both major parties. But Trump’s outsider status and unusual political style had appeal.

She reluctantly voted from him in 2016, the same year she made a failed bid for a seat in the Michigan state house as a libertarian.

“I was scared when he took office,” said Gregoire, now 29.

That changed when she got a $16-per-hour job as a school bus driver, plus a bigger tax refund. She and her husband were saving to ditch their rental in Battle Creek to buy a house big enough for them and their three children.

Gregoire was growing more political. She decided to run for a state house seat again — this time as a Republican.

Last November, she joined the militia, which claims to have at least 1,000 members and says on its website that it is preparing “for tyranny, social discord, natural disasters or anything else that may arise.”

The pandemic only fortified her faith in Trump, whose downplaying of the virus reflected her own experience.

“I don’t social distance, I don’t wear a mask,” she explained. “If anybody has COVID, I should have COVID… Nobody around me has tested positive.”

Gregoire lost badly in the August primary for the house seat. She is still jobless, saying that she has not been allowed to return to driving school buses because she is facing charges of trespassing and resisting arrest stemming from her militia’s occupation of the state Capitol in Lansing for a week in May.

But she paid off mounting credit card bills using the $2,400 her family received in checks as part of the federal stimulus package, each accompanied by a letter signed by Trump.

She was planning to vote in-person because it feels more “patriotic.”

— Jaweed Kaleem

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