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topguncortez · 1 year

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Bad Medicine | Chapter 14

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synopsis: The wedding between the Seresin mafia and the Santiago mafia has finally arrived. But what's a wedding without a little drama?

word count: 6.2k

warnings: PTSD, trauma, mentions of scars, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, torture, graphic character death, shootings, guns, blood, revenge plot, illusion of suicide, death.

“Rise and shine, cupcake!”

The dark room was infiltrated with light as the middle Santiago brother ripped the curtains open. Y/N let out a groan as the morning sun hit her directly in the face. Narciso didn’t seem to pay any mind to his sister as he opened the large bay window, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. Y/N turned her face away from the window, finding the spot next to her empty. She frowned and pushed herself up on her elbow finding a note addressed to her and a singular red rose on the bedside.

“Y/N!” Narciso clapped his hands, getting his sister’s attention.

“Sorry,” She said and looked over at him, “Actually, I’m not. What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m your maid of honor, for lack of a better word.” He smiled brightly.

“Who said that?”

“Me,” Narciso said, and walked over to her, and flung the rest of the blankets off of her, “I know you would much rather it be Mom and Sophie helping you, but I guess I’m third best. Besides, have you seen the way the other two dress. . . they need more help than us today, sis.”

“Thank you,” Y/N smiled and hugged her older brother.

“Any time,” Narcisosaid, wrapping an arm around her and squeezing gently, “Please have this be the last wedding though. I’m not sure if Dad’s pockets can afford another one.”

“I thought it was known that we marry for money in this family?” Y/N joked.

Narciso rolled his eyes, and helped her up from her bed. He led her down the hall towards Bob’s room, which was now turned into a makeshift glam room. Narciso had various stylists walking around the room setting up their makeup and hair stations. Y/N beamed brightly at her brother, as a woman came up and grabbed her hand, softly pulling her over to get working on her hair. Narciso smiled to himself and leaned against the door, watching his sister smile. It had been a long time since he had seen a genuine smile on her face.

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —

Jake stood in the middle of the backyard as wedding planners were finishing their final touches on the altar and the rows of white chairs. At first, Jake thought that 200 chairs that were in a curved half circle was a bit extreme, but then he saw the final guest list, and suddenly worried if they had enough chairs. Everyone was coming to see the wedding of one of the most notorious mobsters in California. It was hard to believe that Jake Seresin, the ‘Hangman’, was getting married to the Don of Italy’s daughter.

And not just any Don of Italy’s daughter, Rafael Santiago’s daughter. The wild card. The damaged rose. Everyone thought after what had happened with Francisco, that the Don would’ve hid his daughter away. ‘Sent her to Rome to be a nun’ was the rumor that had floated around for several months until someone spotted her in that strip club back in New York. But now the rumor was that the Santiago girl had settled down, and was ready to be a wife.

“Care to tell me why I just found a book full of naughty pictures of my sister?” Gianni asked, shoving something against Jake’s chest. The blonde grunted and looked down at the scrapbook in his hands, “She told me to give this to you, didn’t say what it was, and now, I feel like I need to go stab my own eyes out.”

Jake chuckled and tucked the book under his arm, “Don’t you know not to open things that don’t belong to you?”

“Shut up, Seresin,” Gianni shoved him as he walked into the house, still grumbling about the photo album in Jake’s hands.

Jake looked around the backyard, taking in the smiles on everyone’s faces. There was a buzz in the air, the scent of excitement. The wedding wasn’t supposed to start for another four hours, but Jake felt ready to jump out of his skin. He had been woken up early this morning by Emile, and ushered down to his room at the opposite end of the house. Jake looked over his shoulder at the balcony, white curtains covered the french doors so he couldn’t see his bride inside.

Despite everyone's smiles, there was only one person who didn’t seem to have a joyous expression on their face. Jake had noticed that Bradley had an uneasy look on his face and had avoided looking him in the eye all morning. The mustached man was now wandering around from place to place, trying to find something to keep him busy. Bradley hated not having something to do, he was never the type to just and wait.

“Emile,” Jake called over to his maid, “Can you take this to my room? And tell the future missus thank you for the gift.” Emile nodded and took the book from him. Jake stuffed his hands into his pocket and walked over to Bradley, who was fiddling with a white bow on the back of one of the chairs, “Do you even know what you are doing?”

Bradley didn’t look up, but stopped his messing with the bow, “I think-”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I have not-”

“Bradley,” Jake said sincerely.

Bradley sighed and looked up at the man he considered to be a brother, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Jake asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Bradley stood up from his crouching position and scratched the back of his neck. It is hard to describe Bradley as being small, but as he stood in front of Jake, avoiding his green eyes, Bradley did in fact look “small”. Jake could see a little boy who looked like he had just gotten caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.

“I. . . I thought maybe if I stay away from this one, I won’t mess it up.” Bradley mumbled, “I seem to be the angel of death,” Jake sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry for what I-”

“What happened with Natasha was not your fault,” Jake said, “You can’t help who you love.” Bradley looked up at his friend, “One of the things I will regret until my dying breath, was letting you believe that you are a monster, a killer.”

It had been one of the darkest times in Bradley’s life after betraying not only Jake, but the family that gave him so much when he had lost his own. Bradley hated that he had been so naive and had fallen in line right where Natasha wanted him. He knew that Jake could’ve killed him right then and there, laying his body out in cold blood like Natasha’s. However, Jake decided to show Bradley mercy. And every day Bradley felt like he had to figure out how to repay him somehow.

“I was already a monster,” Bradley looked at his hands. His hands were rough and calloused from years of working with his hands, “I don’t think I’ll ever get my happily ever after. No one can love the fucked up monster. I had that and-and I lost it.”

“Someone out there will,” Jake answered. He put his hand under Bradley’s chin and lifted it up, “I never blamed you for what happened. I just want you to forgive me, Bradley.”

“I forgave you years ago,” Bradley admitted, “I’m glad you found Y/N. . . or she found us, I guess. It’s been nice to have someone to take care of us. She. . . she reminds me of my mom, in a way.”

Jake smiled and hugged Bradley. Bradley sighed and melted into the hug, not realizing how much he needed the physical reassurance from the mafia leader. He had spent years watching his every move, careful of what Jake was doing. He always felt like there was a target on his back for a mistake he had made when he was young and stupid. But to have Jake tell him that he forgave him, felt like cinder blocks lifted off his shoulders.

Rooster pulled back from the hug, “I gotta get going. I want to stop by the hospital before this thing kicks off.”

“Hospital?” Jake asked.

“Yeah. . . check on Sophie,” A blush filled Bradley’s cheeks and Jake gave a singular nod.

“Check on her, huh?” A small smirk graced Jake’s lips and Bradley playfully shoved the man, “Alright, alright, give an update to Y/N please. I know she’s worried about Sophie.”

“I will,” Rooster nodded, and turned to walk in the house.

“Oh! And send my brother to me.” Rooster gave Jake a thumbs up before disappearing into the labyrinth that is the Seresin Mansion.

Jake took one last glance around the backyard before looking up at the balcony. He smiled seeing his wife standing in the doorway, looking out at the rose garden. She was wearing a white silk robe and her hair had been pinned back into an updo. She held a glass of champagne in her hands, her face was still makeup free. Jake loved when her face was bare, not hiding her scars from him. He looked at her face, memorizing every single line that adorned it.

Feeling his stare, Y/N looked from the sparkling white roses to her fiance. She gave him a soft smile and a small wave. He mouthed to her ‘I Love You’, and held his hand on his heart. Y/N nodded and whispered back the same three words. She then sent him a wink, as she turned around, untying her robe, and letting it cascade to the ground. Jake bit back a smirk, as he watched her naked body disappear into their room and the doors to the balcony shut.

“Some things will never change,” He mumbled to himself, fixing his dress pants. Jake looked over the backyard, looking at the altar, that in just a few moments he’d be standing under, holding hands with his wife. Jake smiled to himself, as he shook his head and looked down at his shoes. He couldn’t wait until he heard the words, ‘You may now kiss your wife’.

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —

Y/N’s hands were shaking as she sat at her vanity, looking at herself in the mirror. She had been here before. It was giving her deja vu, sitting looking at herself in nothing but a strapless white lace bra, matching panties, her hair done and pinned back, and makeup done to the nines. Her scars had been covered, as if the past trauma had never happened to her. She could almost believe that her face was without any scarring, but she could still see some remnants of the angry skin left behind.

A knock at the door and a voice called out to her, snapping her from her warring thoughts, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, Gio,” Y/N said, clearing her throat and reaching for her robe. She slipped it on her shoulders as Gianni walked through the door, a smile on his face.

“How are you doing?” He asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

“Want me to be honest?” She asked and he nodded, “I’m terrified,” Y/N looked up at her brother, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, “I just. . . I keep pinching myself, seeing if this is real. If I really am about to marry a man that I love, or if this is some sick joke.”

Gianni stood up from the bed and walked to her. He gently lifted her chin with his finger, “This is real. Nothing, and I mean, nothing, is going to hurt you.” Y/N nodded and Gianni’s face softened, “I will never forgive myself for not killing Francisco when I had a chance. I never-”

“It was on me,” Y/N said and dabbed under her eye, “I begged you to show him mercy. I thought that he would get the hint after what you did to him, but he’s a sick man.”

“And he’s a dead man, when we find him,” Gianni pulled her into a tight hug, “He will never, ever, hurt you again. You have my word.”

“Thank you, Gianni,” Y/N said, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Another knock on the door separated the siblings. Y/N froze for a moment, hoping it wasn’t her soon to be husband trying to steal another look, “Who is it?”

“Bob,” A smile graced her face and Gianni nodded, turning and heading out the door. He patted Bob on the back, going down the hall to try and find Jake, and hopefully smoke a cigar with him before the wedding kicked off.

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest and nodded for Bob to come into her room. The blue eyed man quietly shut her bedroom door and walked right to her, not hesitating to give her a tight hug. Y/N let out a small sound, as he squeezed her. Out of all of the boys, Bob had been the only one who hadn’t touched her yet. She let out a sigh and settled into the hug, running her hand up and down his back.

“Thank you,” Bob mumbled.

“For what?” Y/N asked.

Bob pulled away, and she noticed he wasn’t wearing his glasses. She gently touched his cheek, running her thumb over the apple of his skin. He looked strikingly handsome with his ocean blue eyes. Y/N swore that she could even see what looked like waves in his eyes. The more that she looked at him, the more that she could see the similarities between him and Jake. They had the same blonde hair, and striking colored eyes. They also had the same half smile whenever they were trying to hide their blush.

“For giving me my brother back,” Bob said, “We used to be really close, when we were younger but. . . we grew apart after everything happened. And I am sorry he was so horrible to you when you first got here. I make no excuses for him, and I know he will spend the rest of his life apologizing to you for what he did. . . but he’s just been through so much. The both of you had. I think that’s what makes you two so perfect for each other.”

Y/N grabbed his hand, and squeezed it, “Thank you, Bob,” her voice cracked as she felt hot tears well up in her eyes.

“No! Don’t cry, Narciso will kill me,” Bob said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out kleenex, “I’m sorry for making you cry.”

“You didn’t,” Y/N said, “I always wanted to feel love like this. To be in a family who truly loves each other. You all might not have the perfect relationship, there might be buried skeletons and ghosts, but at the end of the day, you all love each other. And now, I finally get to experience that too.”

“You’ve always had that, Y/N. Might not have been displayed for the whole world to see, but it’s always been there,” Bob assured her.

“Excuse me, Mr. Floyd,” Emile said, knocking on the door, holding the white dress in her hand, “We need to get her dressed.” Bob smiled brightly, looking at Y/N. He kissed her cheek, whispering ‘good luck’ before walking out the door.

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —

Jake was finishing up the final touches on his tux, when he heard a soft knock on the door, followed by his younger brother stepping into the room. He smiled at his brother and took a step back from the mirror and embraced him in a hug.

“She looks beautiful,” Bob said.

Jake pulled away from the hug. His smile was so bright he bet that he could power a whole dark city, “You saw her?”

Bob nodded, and put his hands into his pockets, “Yeah, stopped by her room on the way here. What did you want to see me for?”

Jake sucked in a breath and fiddled with his hands, “I want to apologize to you, for what I did, taking you away from MIT and forcing you into this family.”

“Oh, I forgave you for that a long while ago. I knew it was inevitable,” Bob shrugged.

“I still had no right to do that to you,” Jake said, “You were the one that had a chance at living a normal life, and I ruined that for you.”

Bob smiled shyly, looking down at his black dress shoes. Bob had constant dreams about living that kind of life, except they all ended the same way, with Jake showing up and tearing him away. Jake read his face and put the final touches on his tie, before stepping behind him, so Bob was standing directly in front of the full-length mirror. Jake’s hands went to his shirt and smoothed out the wrinkles and adjusted the tie.

“You know, out of the four of us, I always thought it was gonna be your wedding we go to first. You were the one who was gonna live that white picket fence life. Kids running around the front yard, and an apple pie on the kitchen table. Dad kinda set you up for all that,” Jake smiled.

“You know I won’t ever have that. . .” Bob sighed. Jake watched as his brother’s face fell, knowing exactly what he was talking about. It took Jake, his parents, and even Rooster to get Bob to stop searching for his lover. Bob had taken an unhealthy obsession with trying to find a ghost. He took a step away from Jake and walked towards the door, “She’s just gone, Jake, like she never even existed.”

“If there is anyone on this earth who can find her, it’s you, Bob,” Jake said truthfully.

“I’ve never stopped looking for her. But she’s just. . . gone, like a ghost.”

Jake chuckled and shoved his hands into his pockets, “No one just disappears Bobby, have you ever thought that you're over focussing, broaden your mind, you'll find her. Or maybe she'll find you.”

Bob nodded to himself and walked out of the bedroom door, leaving Jake alone with his thoughts. Jake sighed and sat down on his bed, looking around the room. It was pretty much bare now, all his belongings having been moved into the master bedroom with Y/N. He leaned over towards his bedside table, seeing an envelope addressed to him. He smiled as he picked it up and opened it.

“To my true soul,”

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —

Her breath was in her throat. Everyone was waiting for her, the isles were lined with flowers, the bows on the backs of the chairs had been tied to perfection. The boys had already taken their spots at the altar, each of them wearing black tuxes with white button ups. Jake was the only one wearing an all black suit, as he bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to settle the nerves in his body. Javy couldn’t help but grab his friend's shoulders, shaking them, as a goofy smile spread on his face.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror one last time, fixing up some flyaways in her hair. Her dress fit her perfectly, the lace laying on her smooth skin. Her hands were shaky as Emile handed her her flower bouquet. Emile quickly moved around her, fixing some things with her dress and veil. Y/N glanced at the doors in front of her, which were shut and a curtain drawn over them so no one could see her on the other side. Her heart pounded, knowing that right on the other side was her soon to be husband.

“You look perfect,” She said, fixing the veil on her shoulders, “He’s a lucky man.”

“I think I am the lucky one,” Y/N answered, as she took in a deep breath.

Emile smiled, “I always knew that you two would fall in love. Mr. Jacob is rough around the edges when you first meet, but he melts your heart. He melted mine, that’s for sure. Been taking care of all four of them since they were in trainers.”

“Thank you, Emile,” Y/N said genuinely. Emile nodded and kissed her forehead, as the door opened and her father walked in. Emile excused herself as the Don stepped over to his daughter, “Papa,”

“Y/N,” The Don responded. He held his hand out to her and she gently placed her hand in his. His hands were rough from years of working with his hands, but they were always warm and gave Y/N a sense of security, just like when she held his hand as a child, “You look perfect. A spitting image of your mother.”

“I wish she could be here,” Y/N spoke, tears filling her eyes.

“Oh, tesoro,” Rafael said, wiping her tears softly, “Don’t cry. She’s here, in your heart. She always has been.” Y/N nodded, and gripped her father’s arm tightly, “You ready?”

“Yeah,” She smiled, ��Just don’t. . . don’t let me fall.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” The Don spoke. He nodded to the guards in front of him to open the doors that led to the garden.

Everyone’s eyes turned and looked at her. Everyone stood up as the pianist started playing the notes to ‘Turning Page’, the song Bob had picked out for them. Her steps faltered for a second, taking in the sight of all the eyes on her, and she squeezed Rafael’s arm. He patted her hand gently, reassuring her that he wasn’t going to fail her, not this time. She looked up at her dad, and Rafael felt a moment of deja vu. She was suddenly the five year old girl going to her first day of school, scared to go run with the other children, and searching for the okay to go.

“I’ve got you,” Rafael whispered to her, and Y/N nodded, the anxiety melting away. Y/N took a deep breath and looked back down the aisle at her Jake, who’s eyes were blurry with tears.

Jake’s eyes found hers in an instant, looking at her. No one else mattered but her, she was the only person Jake could see. Jake couldn’t help the tears that formed in his eyes as Y/N walked down the aisle towards him. Any anxiety he had about this moment melted away when she smiled at him. Javy gently nudged Jake and smiled at him. Bob had only seen this look in Jake’s eyes once before, and he was worried he’d never see that again. Bob was thanking the stars above that Jake had found his forever. The aisle seemed endlessly long as Y/N had finally made her way to Jake. Jake took a step down off the altar to take her from her father.

“Jacob,” Rafael whispered, “Take good care of my daughter.”

“I will protect her with my life,” Jake whispered back. The Don smiled and placed a kiss on Jake’s cheek. He turned to his daughter and placed a kiss on her cheek, before going to join his boys in the front row. Jake moved the veil from Y/N’s face and smiled at her.

“Hi,” She said softly.

“Hey,” He whispered back. He took her hand, and gently led her up the steps to stand in front of the priest. She passed her bouquet back to Narciso, and then grabbed both of Jake’s hands. He squeezed them gently, before turning his head towards the Priest.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you may be seated,” The Priest said, “We are gathered here today to witness the holy union between Y/N Santiago and Jacob Seresin. The love that has been granted upon them is obvious, as it surrounds not only them but all of us as well. If there is anyone who objects to these two being joined in the face of the Lord and become one within one another, please speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

Jake looked at Y/N and smiled, as they heard silence from the crowd. He grabbed her hand in his, running his thumb over the back of her hand. He opened his mouth to whisper something to her, when someone from the back of the crowd stood up and yelled:

“I object!”

Jake’s head snapped towards the sound, his jaw dropping slightly, “Natasha?”

Y/N’s heart was beating erratically as she looked at the woman that had haunted her husband’s dreams. Y/N went to take a step forward when a loud gun shot rang out. Jake quickly grabbed her hand to pull her back to him as screams filled the crowd, but Y/N was frozen in place as she looked down at the growing red spot seeping through her white dress.

“Y/N. . .” Jake whimpered out, as he helped her down to the ground before she could collapse.

The single shot was followed by rapid gunfire, as screams and cries filled the air, people immediately running for the quickest cover they could find. Jake looked up to where Natasha was standing, watching her make her way towards him. He felt sick as he looked down at his wife, his hands going to her midsection, standing them with crimson. When he looked back up, Natasha was gone.

Rafael tried to push through the guards, but they pushed the mafia leader away, trying to get him to safety. He tried his best to fight against them, but he was no match against Paulo and Narciso’s strength as they pushed him towards the house. Rooster and Gianni grabbed the guns from their waist bands and took off, looking for the source of the gunfire.

“Jake,” Her small voice drew Jake’s attention back to her. He sucked in a breath as the color was gone from her face. Jake looked back up briefly, seeing Natasha standing in front of him, a sick smirk on her face. He blinked a couple times, and again, she was gone. The sound of coughing made Jake look back down at his bride, watching as pink froth left her lips. He adjusted her in his arms, helping her sit up a bit. He knew that gunshot wounds to the stomach were an awful way to die. Slowly, your body positioned itself as the toxins from your intestines leaked into your blood.

What the fuck, Jacob, he thought, shaking his head again, “Help me!” Jake yelled out to anyone who was near.

“J-Jake,” Y/N stuttered out, her hands going on top of his as a way to add more pressure to the growing wound. Her body felt searing hot, as she tried to push herself up. Her mind was clouded over with the pain, that nothing made sense. Who could have done this? Why would someone want to hurt us like this?

“I don’t want to die, Jake.”

Bob and Javy ran in towards the house, both their guns drawn as they frantically looked around. Bob spotted him first, pointing out the man dressed in all black, running towards the front gate. Both the men went running after him, firing their weapons, trying to hit him. Bob was fast, his long legs carrying him towards the perpetrator quickly. He tackled them to the ground, both of them falling with a grunt. Bob took the blunt end of his gun and struck him in the face, making the man grunt.

“Cease fire!” Bob yelled, “I got him! I got him!”

The gunfire ceased as Rooster and Gianni both ran in the house towards Bob, to help him gather whoever was the cause of this. Rooster helped Bob stand the perpetrator to his feet, taking his belt and using it as makeshift handcuffs until they could get him into the chamber. Gianni saw nothing but red, as soon as he laid eyes on the perpetrator’s face. Gianni took his fist and struck him in the jaw, making the perp sag a bit in Rooster and Bob’s hold.

“Fuck!” He grunted, “Nice to see you too, Gianni.”

“You’re going to fucking burn, Francisco,”

“Promise?” Francisco smirked.

“Get him to the fucking chamber,” Javy demanded.

The backyard was silent as the smoke and dust cleared, leaving behind debris in its wake of tipped over chairs, articles of clothing, broken flower vases and bullet shells. Jake slowly rocked Y/N back and forth, holding her close. His hands did the best they could to stop the blood from escaping from her body. Usually the sight of blood didn’t bother him, but there was something about seeing the dark red stain, the perfect white of her dress, that made him sick.

“J-Jake. . .” Y/N called out to him. Jake laced their fingers together, the blood making their fingers stick together, “I-I don’t want-“

“Shh baby, shh,” Jake cried, wiping the tears from her face, “Help me! Somebody! Help!” She groaned in pain as Jake jolted her slightly. Jake quit moving and kissed her forehead, “It’ll be okay. I promise.” Y/N nodded weakly as Jake held her, “Help!”

“I-it h-hurts.”

Jake looked down at her, taking in the sight of her. He knew there was nothing anyone could do, and he knew that she knew it too. He held her close and rocked her gently. Her usual tan skin was now pale. The midsection of her dress was almost completely red. Jake hated it.

“I’m right here, okay. I’m not gonna go anywhere.”

Her mind was in a limbo of wanting to accept death, accept what was going to happen to her or to fight against it to live. This couldn’t be her ending. Not now, not that she had made amends with those who hurt her. Not when she just found her true love, her true happiness. She had faced death before, and welcomed it before. But now, seeping into that black abyss was terrifying. Going into an undiscovered place, alone, was worse than bleeding out in her lover’s arms.

“I’m scared, Jake. . . I don’t want to die yet,” She sobbed out, her eyes locked on the sky above her. Jake had made a promise to her to never let her be scared again, not while his heart was still beating in his chest.

“Don’t be, it’ll be okay, baby, it’ll all be okay,” Jake said softly, “You go, okay. Don’t be scared, I’ll be right there.”

Y/N nodded, her body growing weaker and weaker. It was like the pull of a tide, pulling her further and further into a deep abyss. Jake watched her features, watched as her chest rose and fell, and froze. Her eyes, the usual honey brown, grew cold and her face froze in a forever look of fear. Jake looked up at the sky, letting his tears fall, and soft sobs left his pink lips. He looked down at the girl in his arms, and brought a shaky hand to her face to close her eyes.

“I love you. . . I love you,” Jake said and kissed her cheek. He looked around the whole backyard before bringing her body into his and letting out a loud scream of agony. Javy, Bob and Rooster watched from inside the house as Jake let out his emotions. Bob couldn’t help but shed tears at the anguishing sounds leaving Jake’s lips. They had never seen him like this, not even after Natasha.

Paulo and Narciso had to physically hold their father up from crashing to the ground. Rafael let out a loud sob, as he watched his only daughter’s life leave her body. Gianni clenched his jaw, looking from the scene, down to his shoes. Gianni was known as The Santiago with no emotion, but he couldn’t help the tears that fell from his eyes. He had devoted much of his adult life to protecting his baby sister, and now he watched as he had failed her yet again. He wiped his tears quickly and turned on his heel walking towards the chamber that had taken Francisco.

“Stop him,” Rafael said, fearing for what his son was going to do.

Paulo shook his head, “He’ll be fine. He needs this.”

Jake gently laid Y/N’s body on the ground and placed her hands on her belly, trying to cover the bullet wound the best he could. He grabbed the discarded bouquet from earlier, placed it in her hands and kissed her before standing up and marching into the house. The three other boys moved out of his way as he walked straight into the chamber. The other boys shared a look before following Jake down to the chamber.

Gianni was already beating up Francisco when Jake got down there, the man was chained up by his wrists, as Gianni delivered blow after blow to his face. Francisco looked up at Gianni, as he held him by the back of his head, his brass knuckles shining with blood already.

“I didn’t know you were capable of emotions,” Francisco smiled, as Gianni reeled his fist back and delivered another punch.

“Enough,” Jake said as he walked in. Gianni nodded, dropping Francisco’s head and stepping away from the battered man.

“Got what you wanted? A good wedding?” Francisco asked with a smirk. Jake didn’t say anything as he growled, walked over to Francisco, grabbing him by the throat. Jake could feel the crush of his hyoid bone under his hand. Francisco’s neck and face turned red as his air supply was slowly being cut off.

“You’re fucking sick. Thinking you can get away with shit you’ve done. Killing my wife.” Jake said through a clenched jaw.

“If I'm sick, what does that make you? You’re not some fucking saint. You hurt her too. Difference is I taught her a lesson. I’m a sinner with a reason.”

Jake pressed down harder on his neck again, “We’re both going to hell. But I’m going to fucking kill you, and it’s going to be so fucking euphoric to watch you die slowly.”

“Give it to me. Kill me! SHOW ME WHO THE FUCK HANGMAN REALLY IS!!” Francisco yelled.

Jake stepped back, and raised his gun and pointed it in between Francisco’s eyes. He cocked it, and then closed his eyes. Images of the early morning he had shared with Y/N filled his mind. Jake closed his eyes, soaking in the vision of her. Her smile as he got down on one knee and finally proposed to her. Her soft voice as she sang to him. And her heartbeat, pumping in her chest, letting the blood flow throughout her body. Now she laid on the concrete, her blood shed and her body cold.

Jake opened his eyes, letting the tears run down his face. He lowered his gun and handed it to Bob, who stood behind him. Bob looked at him confused as Jake took a step towards Francisco.

“The reaper had mercy,” Jake whispered, placing a kiss on Francisco’s cheek.

The men all looked at Jake, unsure of what the mafia leader was doing. Not once had they ever seen Jake back down from killing someone, especially someone who had hurt him like this. Jake walked over to his brothers, and hugged them each starting with Bob.

“You’ll find her, I know you will,” Jake said to him. He then hugged Javy, “Take care of them when they hear, you’ve always liked you more than me.” He spoke in his best friend's ear.

When Jake got to Rooster, he held him tightly in his arms. Jake whispered in his ear, and Rooster’s eyes widened. He went to pull back from the hug, but Jake placed his hand on his head, keeping him still until he was done talking. Rooster bit his lip, trying to suppress the sob building in his throat. Jake placed a kiss on his cheek as he pulled away from the hug.

Jake didn’t say anything else to them but just nodded, before ascending up the stairs.

“What a fucking puss-”

The shot that rang out caused Francisco’s head to knock back and then forward, showering brain matter and blood along the walls. Rooster lowered his gun and handed it to Javy, feeling disgusted by what he just did. Rooster instructed the guards to clean the mess up and place Francisco in a shallow grave.

“Wait,” Gianni said, holding his hand up. He drew the knife from his pocket and walked over to Francisco’s dead body. He leaned his head back, and flicked open the pocket knife. Gianni clenched his jaw as he carved a jagged scar down the dead man’s face, “I hope you rot in hell,” Gianni released Francisco’s head, watching the blood drip from the cut. He took a step back and spit on his corpse. They watched as Gianni walked up the stairs, exiting the chamber to go be with his family.

The three Seresin family members stood in silence, listening to the blood drop from the dead body. Javy looked around at Bob, who’s eyes were trained on the stairs Jake had just walked up.

“What do we do now?” Javy asked. Bob opened his mouth to speak when another gunshot went off. He jumped and let out a soft gasp, as he licked his lips and bowed his head. The realization washed over him that he was now head of the family.

“We drink.”

Fin.

taglist: @cherrycola27 @seresinsbabe @violyn20 @materialgirl01 @bradleybeachbabe @a-reader-and-a-writer @lt-spork @topnerd03 @3in1shampooconditionerbodywash @bioodforbiood @topguncultleader @ma-fraise @abaker74 @double-j @cm27078 @thedroneranger @khaylin27 @mak-32 @unhinged-btch @wittywhispers @theliterarybeldam @bloosomjoon @chxcxlate-cxxkies @luckyladycreator2 @wellshit6 @harper1666 @phoenix1388 @footprintsinthesxnd @dempy @emma8895eb @bonitanightmxres @love2write2626 @bobbyonboard @some-lovely-day @thenewdaysalreadyhere @cassiemitchellslibrary @ilymoonie @morgensternsblog @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rintheemolion @tallrock35 @adoringsebstan @xoxabs88xox

note: does it make you feel better if I say that there will be an epilogue AND a sequel??? no??? okay. . .

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bg3-npc · 11 months

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Asexual Awareness Week and BG3

Below the cut is 1,000~ words of introspection on Astarion and sex repulsion. As an asexual person who's very sex averse, I surprisingly found myself relating to many of his struggles regarding sex and intimacy. This is less about Astarion being ace, and more about how his struggles with sex and romance mirror mine. That relation has lead me to this potential insight into his character. It's obviously extremely biased, which is why I put the word count first. I have a similar post about Wyll here. So if your interested in introspection that is probably more projection, I bring you this.

Astarion has been denied his autonomy for over 200 years. He’s amassed trauma from that, and a prominent portion of it is sexual. It’s this specific form of his trauma I will be working with.

For him, there are practically zero positive associations with regards to sex. He essentially uses it to survive, mainly because it’s all he knew in his time under Cazador. Nearly every sexual situation he encounters in game, he dissociates through it. Even when he enthusiastically consents, dissociation still happens. While sex is distressing in of itself, it is even more so when romance is factored in.

While love is great in theory, it would be a nightmare for Astarion personally. One of the reasons being sex is seen as inherent to romantic relationships. It’s an unspoken fact. Even people who know they’re not entitled to sex go into every romantic relationship expecting it. It’s one of the perks of having a romantic partner. Consistent access to a free source of mutual pleasure, consistent access to a body. He's actively trying to escape a situation where he has no autonomy, why would he want to enter a situation where you’re expected to forfeit it?

As you continue to develop a relationship with him, he's put in a dilemma. He’s been a sex object for so long, he doesn’t know how to be anything else. What do you do when the inherent expression of love is also an activity integral to your trauma? You can have sex without love, but no one loves without sex. What’s the point of pursuing love if you’d be constantly making yourself do something that distresses you? Aren’t relationships supposed to make you happy? Comfortable? Safe? What’s the point of them if they don’t? Falling in love while trying to actively escape captivity never even occurred to him as something that could happen.

If you respect his boundaries, Astarion refrains from having sex with you. If Halsin propositions you later in the game, Astarion asks if his lack of participation is a factor. He knows that besides all the other drawbacks to dating him, being denied sex is the biggest blow to romancing him. When you want to remove sex from the relationship, suddenly even the strictest monogamist will want to be non-monogamous. Your partner is the one sacrificing something after all. It’s them who doesn’t get to have sex with you. They’ll always be the one going without, you’re the one denying your partner something. It’s never seen as you sacrificing your autonomy for their pleasure. Denying someone sex in a romantic relationship is viewed as worse than traumatizing yourself for the sake of your partner’s sexual pleasure. You are the one expected to compromise. You’re supposed to be the one to forfeit your wants and well-being. What’s the point of loving someone if you can’t even fuck them?

If you find the drow twins after killing Cazador, Astarion eagerly wants to have that sexual experience. This time for himself. He is free from him captor, he has his autonomy back, and he wants to reclaim the pleasure of sex. I get that! Sex is (supposedly) wonderful! Attitudes towards it vary, but the consensus is everyone enjoys it. Not only can it allow you to connect with someone, but it can also allow you to connect with yourself. When done correctly, sex is a universal pleasure.

Until it isn’t.

You try to exposure yourself enough to it, change enough variables, hoping that there’s a secret to enjoying this act you just haven’t figured out. Yet every time, no matter how many things are different, at the end of it all it’s still sex. And it makes you sick. Your skin feels like it’s trying to crawl away from your muscle, you can feel disgust roiling through your veins, and suddenly, you’re aware of your own skeleton. You feel this revulsion to your bones. Yet you push through. You go through the motions, follow the steps. Even someone you trust entirely will touch you with erotic desire and your body reacts horribly. You try to make it good for your partner while you tolerate it…at best.

“What purpose do I have other than sex?” Is one of Astarion’s main struggles throughout the game. He feels sex is all he has to offer, yet it’s a continual source of pain for him. He can discuss it, describe it, theorize and philosophize it, but the actual act distresses him. The “universal pleasure” does nothing for him but harm. Romance only compounds this issue. If the only thing he has to offer hurts him, then what’s the point of romancing him? “What is the point of being with me if you can’t fuck me?”

These are all issues constantly on your mind when you’re sex repulsed. While his problems with sex stem from trauma, they still mirror my own. I will probably never be able to enjoy sex, but he might. He can work through his issues and learn to enjoy it again. However, another recovery option coud be opting out of sex altogether.

Realizing and accepting it’s not something he wants or enjoys, and having a partner who respects would be life changing for him. I know it would be for me. Because there's never someone who views you as a whole. Never someone who looks at you and doesn’t see anything missing. There’s never someone who’s content with what you’re able to give. There’s never someone that sees a relationship with you as complete. Never someone who goes “You’re not lacking anything. You’re giving what you can. Relationships are continuous agreements of consent, not entitlement to autonomy.”

Sex repulsion has an odd way of objectifying you, similar to how Astarion has been. When you try to remove yourself from sex, it becomes the sole focus of you. Whether it’s because you’ve only ever been a sex object, or because you don’t want to partake in it. Every rejection and failed compromise continues to reinforce how vital sex is to everyone. Everyone, except you.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #asexual awareness week #asexual #sex repulsed #so anyway here's this i guess #🎮 bg3 #🎮 mine

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theamazingannie · 1 year

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Oh I fucking hated that Manifest ending it made absolutely no sense. Rant and spoilers under cut.

Why in hell would they go back to 2013 and undo everything that happened over the last 11 years??? Sure the passengers are forever changed, but what about Olive’s journey? Jared and Drea? All of the other nonpassengers who grew and learned and became something better because of this story? And why them? Zeke survived his death date and he didn’t go back (at least, not until he died the second time). Zeke got to have cool powers and it kinda sucks cuz he was the only one we know who survived his death date so he’s the only one we got to see be affected by it. It would’ve been cool to see what the passengers could do and also how the rest of the world would have reacted. The world HATED the 828ers and instead of getting some resolution with them finding out that the 828ers saved the world, they just all never actually experienced it?

Also, wasn’t something that was a hidden gift in the whole thing that Saanvi’s research had time to develop during those 5 1/2 years? If they go back, then Cal would still be sick and without the research this time. That undos all of that and the connection that that made between Saanvi and the Stones and how fate connected them in so many ways. And they specifically said that they needed time to finish her research and start the trials. He would’ve been dead if he waited. That was a specific point.

Because of the time pause, Olive is now significantly younger than TJ, which the show addresses by making him look at her sadly and then sets him up with Violet. Not only did they steal Olive’s story and growth, they also just completely ruined their relationship that I loved. Plus, they never really gave them a satisfying ending pre-apocalypse. All they did was have Olive say she wanted to fix things so they could have a future together, only for that to now be impossible (unless they meet again in like 10 years when it’s a less weird age gap). This is kind of a smaller reason, but it still bugs me cuz they had such potential to be a great ship and were constantly pushed under a rug, especially there at the end.

And what are they supposed to do now? This is a problem in a lot of time travel/day repeating stories where someone changes seemingly overnight with no explanation except instead of just one person, it’s almost 200. 200 people who know things about the next 11 years, who have been changed beyond recognition, who are now going to change so much stuff in the future that didn’t need to be changed. Yeah, they’re all better people now and will work to do good (allegedly) yadda yadda. What about all the passengers who fell in love with nonpassengers that they now may never meet? Or, like TJ and Olive, can’t be together because of the time jump. Yeah Mick found Zeke and now they can be happily ever after, but what about the nonpassengers who were changed in the years between and now aren’t the same person that the passenger fell in love with? So many of us are shaped by our experiences. What happened to all the other passengers, to their stories? What if the person that they fall in love with’s life is altered because of the choices another passenger makes? What if they move to another state, fall in love with someone else, die??? Another issue tule travel causes is that even the smallest action can domino into something completely different, even just one person let alone TWO HUNDRED. I know that this is probably not something most people think about and they just pay attention to Grace and Zeke being alive and all the happy moments, but it’s not that simple for me and it BUGS ME when writers don’t consider this.

Lastly, on a similar note, how is this any different than it ending with “it was all a dream”??? Like nothing actually changes, none of their callings are set in stone and they’ll have to remember every single thing they did during those 5 1/2 years, things that won’t happen until YEARS later. Ugh I just so hated the way they ended things and it sucks cuz I love this show a lot.

#manifest #manifest netflix #this is kinda long but if you’ve watched the finale you should read this and tell me if you agree #my sister hasn’t finished yet so I don’t have anybody to talk to about this #if you disagree I’d love to know why!#Im always interested in hearing alternate viewpoints #(particularly on more lighthearted matters like a tv show finale)#edit:#the tag has reminded me of Lourdes and I’m mad about that too!!!#not only did they completely drop her as a character #despite being one of mick’s bffs and Jared’s FIANCÉE #but they don’t even bring up how she will exist in the new life with no memories of what happened #so mick will be mad at her for a reason that hasn’t happened yet and it’ll be so weird #like there are so many things about this that don’t make any sense if you give it more than two seconds of thought

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the-hinky-panda · 1 year

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I Love you but Jesus Christ can you just behave yourself for once

This is what happens when you message your friend and say "I think I want to write for Chibs but I don't know what to write." Bam. Multiple prompts and this mess is created! Thank you @bullet-prooflove

Chibs remembers how he first met you. The club needed some extra help in getting the latest shipment of guns out of Ireland and their alternate routes were being closed off one by one. Horses had always been a rich man’s sport and one of Ireland’s recent exports have been their eventing horses. It didn’t take much research to locate a local rider and trainer that had a couple trips to Ireland under her belt.

It was the Northern Winter Classic Grand Prix where he was supposed to meet you and discuss the terms of the agreement: they use false bottom tack boxes to stash the guns, and you get two free horses out of it. It was a sweet deal. However when we located your stable, High Flyers Farm, he found your exasperated barn manager with a fully tacked up horse that was taller than Chibs.

“I’m looking for-”

The manager interrupts him. “Yeah, me too. Our rider fell off in the warm up, dislocated her shoulder and can’t ride. We’re on deck right now in the third round of the Grand Prix and no rider.” The manager looks at him. “You don’t ride do you?”

He has ridden a horse in the past, a handful of times. He knows little of grand prix competitions, just that the goal is to jump as high and as fast as possible without nicking any of the fences. “How big are the jumps?”

“1.6 meters. Some are about 2 meters across.”

“Fuck that.” Chibs looks around the stable area. “What car does she drive?”

“That Tahoe over there, with the tinted windows.”

Chibs makes his way over there and peers into the driver’s side. There’s no one in the front seat but he sees a healthy collection of vodka bottles on the passenger side floorboards. There’s a slight movement in the backseat so he opens the back door and finds you, curled up in the back bench seat, passed out drunk.

“Found her,” he calls to the manager, who looks on from the front of the stable.

“Fuck. Can she stand?”

“Stand?” Chibs asks. “She’s not even fucking conscious!”

“She’s the only one who can ride this horse! We have a chance to win a $65,000 pot!”

This is not how he saw the negotiation going at all. He reaches into the backseat and grabs fistfuls of your clothes and hauls you out of the backseat. You land in a heap on the ground and groan at the sudden onslaught of sunlight.

“Mornin, lass.”

“The fuck are you?”

He grabs your arms and hauls you up to your feet and leans you against the side of the SUV. “Someone who’s seriously doubting his plan.”

Your bleary eyes roam over his face and down to the patches on his kutte. You poke a shaky finger against the “A” and laugh. “Anarchy. How fucking adorable.”

Chibs turns to the manager who just shrugs. “The horse’s name is Anarchy.”

You take in a deep breath and release it slowly. “Let me guess, Mara fell off again and hurt herself?”

“Yeah,” the manager answers.

“How many away are we?”

“We’re on deck.”

You nod and stand up straight. “Send Alex up to the gate, tell them we have an injured rider and need to be moved down two spaces. If they give him a hard time, slip them $200.”

“And where are you going?” Chibs asked.

“I have to get dressed so I can ride the fucking thing.”

The manager moves off, calling to a teenager who takes off running towards the ring. Chibs turns to you as you start pulling out boots and a show jacket. “And just how are you going to ride that monster? You’re falling down drunk!”

You laugh slightly as you shrug the jacket over your wrinkled blouse. “Because, I’m a fucking professional.”

And you were right. Once you were on top of that horse, you were steady as they came. You flew around that ring, sailing over the fences. After the clouds of dust had settled, the clock had shown that you had the top time. An hour later, after the last horse went, your time was still the one to beat. You were back to being passed out in the tack room and it was your barn manager that collected the $65,000 cash prize. But by that point, you had agreed to the deal and signed off on it.

When the time to travel to Ireland rolls around, he’s gotten to know you a little more. You are, hands down, a functional alcoholic. You’re an adrenaline junkie with a wild streak and not much of a filter. So when you both get on the plane and you’re already ordering drinks while the plane still sits on the tarmac, he just laughs and shakes his head.

“Ya know, I love ya, lass. But Jesus Christ, can you just behave yourself for once?”

You give him that wild look and wink at him. “We’ve got a long flight ahead of us. Where’s the fun in that?”

#chibs x reader #chibs x you #chibs telford #chibs telford fic #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs imagine

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gio-cosmo · 3 months

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ooh, 14, 21 and 22?

Hiii ^^

14. Worst game you’ve ever played?

ooo this one’s tough…realistically, the worst game I’ve ever played is probably some low-budget knockoff wii game I played as a kid or something LMFAOO but I feel like that’s a predictable answer on my part. I feel like I’ve had pretty good luck with games I end up playing, I’m really picky so usually I just. Refuse to pick up a game at all if it doesn’t look interesting lmfaoo. I will say though….the two games I most regret purchasing are Fire Emblem Engage & Pokemon Scarlet 😭 they aren’t the worst games ever by any means but. They were both 60 bucks and I never play them. Very devastating for my measly bank account 😢 ALSO tbf I feel like the reason I dislike Fire Emblem Engage is bc I want another Fire Emblem game to kind of go along the same layout of Three Houses…not a direct copy obviously but Three Houses was just so good. It’s so good in fact that any time I play any other Fire Emblem game that ISN’T Three Houses I’m like….🫤 LMFAOO which I know isn’t a very good mindset for me to have and I should stop comparing them so heavily but…alas. BUT I suppose I can’t even really give Engage a proper rating since I haven’t finished it. Idk I just didn’t really care for the storyline or characters but that’s just me personally.

21. A game you thought you wouldn’t like, but ended up loving?

There’s actually quite a few where this has happened!! There’s been a plethora of games I’ve seen on Steam or in a store and I’ll look it over and be like “ehhh this really doesn’t look like my thing…but it has good ratings…and it’s under my recommended…” and then I’ll usually set it off to the side, and once I get really incredibly bored I’ll cave in and buy it just to give me something to do LMAOO. Needy Streamer Overload was one where I was very skeptic about at first, but I actually really ended up enjoying it (I especially love the soundtrack!) and also World of Horror! I remember seeing people say it was boring and the game mechanics looked so overwhelming so I put off buying it forever, but I finally got it a few weeks ago and it’s probably my fav horror game of all time now. I’m mentally kicking myself for avoiding it so avidly for so long! I don’t find it boring at all, I love games that are built to be replayed as many times as you want. It was funny though bc when I first started playing I was so confused..had me staring at the screen like ☹️ LMFAOO I WAS ACTUALLY BEFUDDLED. But after a few playthroughs it ends up being easy to understand which I am very thankful for. ALSO. Slay the Princess!! Another one I avoided for a while for..honestly idek why. But oh my GODDD I LOVE SLAY THE PRINCESS WOOO YAYYY 🎉 slay the princess honestly was such a crazy surreal experience idek how to describe it. It’s so awesome. It’s coming out on the Switch w a 200 dollar collectors addition thingy and oh my god. Bro. I am DEVASTATED at my lack of funds 😭😭 I actually have to put it out of my mind bc if I think abt it excessively I get really sad 💔 ANYWAYYYSS SHOUTOUT TO SLAY THE PRINCESS 🗣️🗣️ so wonderfully made, beautiful artwork, stunning music…omg. Also grotesque at times but in a way that’s just so fundamentally different and unique? If that makes sense? It’s all so meaningful and connected and they manage to express so many emotions throughout a playthrough. I’ve got every achievement and I’m so happy I gave it a shot :) OH. Also One Shot! One Shot is great…oh my goodness. Woaw. This is making me realize how overly skeptical I am about every game I ever purchase in the history of ever LMFAOO why am I so overly critical 💀 like why do I always have to mull it over for months smh 😭

22. Do you watch any other gamers?

As of right now, no. Not routinely, anyways. I used to be obsessed with watching YouTube game playthroughs as a kid, but I’m not really all that into it anymore. However! I will say that what got me into the Persona franchise back when I was a 5th grade child (?!?!??) is Kubz Scout’s playthrough of it on YouTube! I watched him tons as a kid (someone should’ve been monitoring my internet access for sure 💀) and I still watch some of his gaming videos every now and then. So. Shoutout to Kubz Scout’s for introducing me to my favorite game franchise everrr!! 🗣️🗣️ absolutely crazy that I was watching Persona playthroughs in elementary school though LMFAOO every time I think abt it I’m like … where were my parents at !! 😭

#thank you for the ask!! 💫#WOW I really went on a tangent here. thank you for the opportunity to yap 🙏#ALSOO sorry to the fire emblem engage and pkmn scarlet fans 💔#it’s all up to personal preference! if anyone finds enjoyment out of them I think that’s wonderful <3 #also on the topic of fe3h: BLUE LIONS SWEEP 🗣️🗣️🗣️#I’ve never been able to complete a red eagles run bc it genuinely feels like betrayal 💔 lmfaoo #linhardt carries the red eagles though I will ALWAYS recruit him #I had sm fun answering this!! 🎉

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tsintotwo · 2 years

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[59 Hours, Part 3. (Part 2 here). Jake (Sweetbitter) x You. 18+ ONLY, there’s stuff about drugs in here. a. Please keep in mind I made most of the drug stuff up, and b. Don’t do drugs!! (Drama. Disturbing + tender things. I loved writing this so much, IDK why.)]

Hour 17

Someone’s burying you alive. And they’re laughing a mad laugh. No, now they’re grunting, like an animal in pain. It’s so dark, and so, so cold-

You awake in a deep haze of confused panic. No, you’re not in a pit in the ground, you’re here- but where is here? And why is it colder than death?

It takes a long minute for everything to come back to you- New York, the blizzard, Jake’s apartment. But you still don’t understand why it’s so dark and cold. And then another loud grunt makes your heart thud. Someone is making sounds, it wasn’t just a dream.

Slowly, you realize what’s going on- a power cut. There’s no light anywhere, and the heating stopped- who knows when. By now, the apartment is a refrigerator. You fell asleep on your couch, and your phone can’t be too far away. You feel for it in the dark and find it tucked under your thigh. Your movements are slow, your hands feel frozen, your face is numb, your legs seem to weigh 200 pounds each. Somehow, you switch on the flashlight app, the harsh glare making you cringe. Standing up is an effort. But moving is bringing a tiny bit of feeling back in your body.

The first thing you do is to find more clothes. You put on layers, socks, your coat. By now, you’re sure the periodic grunting sounds like Jake. Is he having a nightmare too? Where is he?

He’s lying on the floor in the next room, and what he’s having is a hundred times worse than a nightmare. You’ve seen it only once before, and it looks different on different people, but you’re pretty sure. He’s having a bad trip.

He’s on his side, curled up tight and shaking violently. He’s still not wearing a shirt, but when you tentatively put your hand on his shoulder, his skin is burning. Your touch must be icy to him, but it doesn’t seem like he feels it. He’s groaning and grunting into the crook of his elbow, breathing hard, his eyes twitching, his lashes and face wet with tears.

You had knelt on the floor beside him, now you set your phone down and let your knees give way. What are you supposed to do now?

It doesn’t occur to you that you could not do anything for Jake, because very, very clearly, he is in pain. In a dark place, being tortured. It’s visible on his face, audible in his thick animal whimpers. He was a complete asshole to you earlier, but right now that’s irrelevant- you want to help him. You’d want to help anyone going through this. Also, lying here like this, he’ll freeze to death.

You pick up your phone again. No bars. What the hell is going on, the apocalypse? Suddenly your stomach clenches in fear. What if a riot has broken out in the city, and you don’t even know? What if something like The Purge happens? People entering other people’s homes, raping and killing…

You shake your head. You can still hear the wind- the blizzard- or this installment of the blizzard- is going on in full-force. People couldn’t ‘riot’ in this weather, and this is also the reason fot the power cut, and the bad cell reception. There must be people out trying to fix things, and you’re sure they’ll do it soon. You just need to wait it out.

Taking a deep breath, you call, ‘Jake.’

No response. Okay, it wasn’t going to be that easy. Think. For your job, you often go to ‘bad’ neighborhoods where drug abuse is prevalent. At work, they try to prepare you for things you might see. Maybe not so much acid, but still, didn’t you attend a seminar once, where someone talked about how they helped someone else going through a bad trip?...

Lowering your head, you keep calling Jake’s name, making it sound as soothing as possible. You run your hand on his back and shoulder. More than knowledge, instinct tells you that he needs to be pulled out of the pit he’s being buried in, he needs to feel that he’s not alone, not lost.

You’re almost surprised when it seems to work. His shaking subsides a little, and he moves his head, trying to look up at you. His eyes are half-open, hazy and far away. They’re glistening with tears.

Moving closer, you pull up his upper body on your lap, cradling his head on the crook of your elbow. This was instinct too, or, more than that, this was sympathy. You are very aware that there’s nothing romantic about drug abuse or terrifying hallucinations. You just see a person in pain, and you want to make it go away, make them feel safe- it’s as simple as that.

You wipe Jake’s eyes and face with your hand. Then you hold his hand, and you talk to him in a soothing murmur. You don’t even know what you’re saying. ‘It’s fine, you’ll be all right, look at this, no electricity, can you believe it? My hands are freezing, and my feet, ugh, you are completely freezing, we have to do something about this soon, you’ll move, right, ‘cause I for sure can’t carry you anywhere-‘

You don’t know if you’re getting through to him. But you can’t give up trying.

Hour 18

You don’t know how long you keep this up- your hand is hurting from holding him and you’re out of breath talking in the cold. Your tongue is getting heavy, your teeth chatter. Jake’s breathing has evened out, his face seems more rested, but he’s starting to shiver, you think from the cold this time.

It’s a real struggle pulling him to a sitting position, then to a standing position, then supporting- almost half-carrying- him to bed. But the threadbare carpet was doing nothing to suppress the chill wafting up from the floor, you couldn’t have been there all night.

Pushing him down to the bed, you adjust the pillow under his head and cover him with the sheet that’s there. You hunt around for a better blanket. You find one in a drawer- thankfully, the small apartment doesn’t accommodate many pieces of furniture, so it wasn’t that hard. It’s thick, and big, and yeah, there’s just one. You cover Jake with it.

It seems so strange to be hungry right now, but suddenly you feel that you are. You have a few granola bars in your backpack. You munch one. Drink some water. Make a trip to the restroom. Take off your jacket and the top layer. Then you get into bed beside Jake under the blanket. Even in all your clothes, you weren’t going to survive the night without any covering.

Waking up in panic, discovering the power outage, seeing Jake like that, then trying to solve the situation- you were on an adrenaline high. You’re coming down now, and the deep surrealness of it all seems to close around you. So much has happened in the last 16 hours, none of it you could’ve ever imagined. You’ve turned off the phone flashlight to save battery- who knows when power will be back- and it’s completely dark. And does Jake even have any neighbors? In your town, families would be coming together right now. But here, you didn’t hear any sounds in the hallway, or from other apartments. Everyone is so isolated, dealing with their own demons in the dark. You feel like a ghost in a ghost town suddenly, as if none of this is real, not even you.

But then Jake moves beside you. You thought he fell asleep, or finally passed out, but now he’s fitful, tossing, muttering words you don’t understand. He reaches out blindly, and finds you next to him in the narrow bed. He turns on his side, pulling you in, and in the next second, he’s burying his head in the crook of your neck, his face cold against your skin, the metal chain around his neck sending a shock of chill down your shoulder. He’s shivering again, uttering tiny cries, and as if on their own, your arms go around him. He’s still very cold, it makes you shiver too. ‘Shhhhhh’, you say in the dark, running your finger through his hair, ‘Shhhh.’

Earlier, after your fight- or whatever it was- you curled up in a ball on the couch, and you didn’t cry for long- crying for a dude was something you’d had enough of already- but you thought about it all for a long time before falling asleep. And you had to acknowledge to yourself that you’d been sending Jake major mixed signals. You knew the type of guy he was the minute you walked in here, and you still expected too much from him. Or you didn’t, really, you just couldn’t stop yourself from wanting him until you’d pulled the plug at the worst time. But you still know that you have the right to take that decision anytime- it’s called consent- and he was a complete jerk for acting like he did and belittling you for it. You don’t forgive him for that. But right now, he’s at his most vulnerable, and you can’t hate him.

Against your body, Jake is still restless. You’re exhausted, and choked with a strange unmooring sensation all on a sudden- this pitch dark, cold, quiet except the cries of a stranger falling apart in your arms- but he doesn’t feel like a stranger, he’s another lost soul, just like you. You need to not let your mind scatter, not become hyper, you need to be the calm one. So you do the first thing you can think of- you start to sing.

It's a lullaby your mother sang to you when things were good, and there was sunshine, and you had a dad, and you didn’t know what ‘depression’ meant. It’s good memories, nice dreams, peace. You sing to calm yourself down, but Jake calms too, slowly quieting, sighing deeply against your neck. Maybe it's the shared warmth of bodies, maybe it's Jake's arms pulling you against himself more snugly, maybe it's the soft song in the dark- but after years, you feel a trace of that old peace again. You don’t know when your singing trails off and the world melts into sleep.

Hour 24

The next time you open your eyes, it’s daylight. Dim daylight, the world outside the window still grayed out, wind still rattling the panes, though it seems more muted. But it’s morning.

You look beside you. Jake is not here. But it’s still very snug under the blanket. Too snug. Then you realize- the heating is on. Power came back.

You sit up and reach for your phone. There’s cell signal back- though still only two bars. You have a worried text from your mother and one from your sister. You wonder if your mom made your sister write hers (‘but you’re writing one anyway’-). You don’t get along very well, you and your sister. Or rather, she doesn’t like you very much. You guess you can’t blame her. Growing up, you were more like a strict parent to her rather than a fun big sister, and she never did see you as anything else. You only texted her instead of your mom last night because she at least checked her phone. Your brother is too young now, but you think once he starts having a life of his own he’ll hate you too-

A sound breaks you out of your depressing thoughts. It’s Jake- walking in, coffee mug in hand. The ocean-blue of his eyes looks clear, his hair glistens as if he’s run his wet hands through it. Strangely, it feels weird to see him back in his t-shirt. You were getting used to the shirtless thing, hah.

He sits on the couch, and says, ‘What the fuck happened last night?’

You reply, ‘Power outage.’

He frowns. Clearly, he knows that’s not the only thing that happened, but you don’t know how much he remembers, or how he remembers it, and you don’t want to say anything that he might not be comfortable with. Anyway, you don’t even know how to explain last night. The memory of it already seems smoky like a dream.

He’s not saying anything else, so you get out of bed, and get freshened up. You open his fridge and raise your voice, ‘Is it okay if I make some eggs?’ The options are not great in here.

‘Whatever.’, is his response, so you make some, and declare, ‘I made enough for two.’

You don’t wait for him. He is constantly smoking or taking sips of some drink, (or worse, you think), so you understand him never being that hungry. But you need to eat.

He joins you though, shoveling eggs in his mouth like he has some kind of personal vendetta against them. You both finish in silence. Then you go put your phone on charge while browsing the internet. It’s still painfully slow, but it’s working. You need it to work. You need to know what’s going on in the outside world. Then you need to leave here.

‘What happened last night?’, Jake has followed you back, and asking this again. This time there’s a touch of dread and thunder in it. Things must be coming back. As you look up, his unhappy scowl makes you sigh. Just- you don’t have the energy to think about being diplomatic with him anymore. You say, ‘I guess you made use of the last of your stash. Then you had a bad trip.’

He’s silent, small lines on his forehead. From the way his eyes move and micro-expressions flicker on his face, you know he must be remembering a lot now. No happy thoughts there, that’s for sure. You look at your phone again. According to the reports, the blizzard is mostly over, just the tail end of it passing through and expected to be gone by this afternoon. But the city is under six feet of snow, and there are at least four major crashes and roadblocks between here and the airport anyway. Even if flights resumed tonight, you don’t see how you would get there by that time.

‘Were you singing?’, Jake had been pacing, now he suddenly stops, coming to stand in front of your couch.

‘Yeah’, you say without looking up, ‘You seemed to like it.’

Silence. You look at him, and he looks like he can’t process this, so you say, ‘Jake, it’s okay. You had some bad time, you don’t need to linger on it. Or do, I guess, it’s your choice, but it’s okay now.’ You feel the need to let him know that you won’t be imposing on him much longer, so you tell him that. ‘I’m looking for a motel or something in walking distance. The storm is supposed to be over by afternoon. Then I’ll get out.’

‘You weren’t even wearing snow boots.’

You sigh. That’s true. ‘I guess I’ll just have to deal with wet socks, then.’

‘I was on the floor’, he can’t seem to let go of last night.

‘Yeah.’

‘You pulled me to bed?’

‘Yeah. And you only have one blanket, apparently, so that’s why I got in there with you, otherwise I much more prefer this couch, trust me.’

But he’s not listening anymore. ‘I was there', he says again, as if to himself, ‘I was-‘, he stops. His jaw clenches, then he turns his face. And walks away.

You understand what’s going on here, you think. Jake has certainly had bad trips before, there’s no way he hasn’t. But maybe he’s never had one alone, or no, worse- one in front of a stranger. All your trauma bared to someone you don’t even know- and then to have them take control when you’re completely helpless- he’s embarrassed. You sigh. That train of thought only leads to a wreck, and whatever your dynamic is with Jake, you’d rather stop it.

He's sitting at his small table, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. You take the chair opposite him, and say, ‘I got my period during a book report.’

‘What?’, he looks up, utter confusion on his face. No disgust though, so props to him.

‘My first period. Didn’t even know what it was. Mom hadn’t briefed me, and I got it early, so we hadn’t gotten to that class at school. I thought the aches in my abdomen were just from bad food or something.’

He’s listening, not sure where this is going.

‘Then I get in front of the class for a book report presentation, and I loved that book, so I was eager, really getting into it, and then there’s just blood coming down my thigh, dripping. I didn’t even realize at first, but the kids started pointing right away, and I looked down, panicked so hard, didn’t know what to do- did I cut myself? What? In my panic, I ignore it, I try to concentrate on my report, and by now everyone is laughing, and I’m getting louder, and it hurts so bad too, and Mr. Oswald, he was, like, 25, he didn’t know what to do- eventually I ran out crying. Leaving a trail of period blood on the floor.’

Jake is staring at you, ‘The point?’

‘The point is, I just told you the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to me. And you have to admit it’s pretty fucking embarrassing. Now we’re even.’

‘Because you told me about something that happened when you were thirteen.’

‘Ten, actually. But no. Because everyone called me Bloody Mary after that. That nickname stuck through middle school. Wasn't fun. And yet, I had friends. I had people who saw me at my most helpless moment and still decided that didn’t matter, that didn’t define me. And these were kids.’ You pause, then say, ‘I’m not a kid. I know shit happens. I don’t judge people for it. And they shouldn’t judge themselves either.’

You don’t know why you’re going this far to convince Jake that you don't judge him or he doesn’t need to be embarrassed. You guess it’s more about you than about him. You can’t have him, or anyone, thinking of you in a way that’s not accurate to who you are. Maybe it’s a flaw you have.

Jake is quiet now, taking in your words. Then he sighs, and says, ‘I owe you an apology.’

‘You do.’

He nods, ‘I was a dick to you last evening. I’m… sorry.’ Not used to saying this word much, you think. ‘I’m so used to seeing whores, I forgot that doesn’t have to be the norm. You do you, whatever.’

‘You don’t-‘, you shake your head, ‘You don’t need to put down all the other women-‘

‘Who’s putting them down?’, Jake blinks innocently, ‘I love whores!’

You cock your head, ‘Is that why you are one?’

He laughs then, a genuine, out-loud laugh with a guttaral sound- you haven’t seen this before. You kind of love it. And you forgive him- his apology was genuine.

You were going to ask something about his wifi when he says, ‘You’re not really thinking about leaving in the afternoon, are you?’

You frown, ‘Of course I am.’

‘Unreasonable. There’s no way you can walk anywhere in this snow.’

‘I can try.’

‘So that you can slip and land in a hospital?’

That’s actually a real possibility, and you don’t know what to say. ‘Maybe an Uber-‘

‘What’s the hurry? You gotta work?’

‘No, they know about NYC and told me to take as much time as I need, actually-‘

‘So?’

‘I don’t want to bother you anymore, okay?’

'Please keep trying to bother me. Your efforts are very amusing.’ He’s joking, but also kind of not, and then he does something unexpected. Your hand was on the table. He slips his under it. Holding your hand, he leans in.

‘Stay.’, he says, voice low.

He’s not joking now. In fact, this is is probably the most serious he’s been since you came here. And on his face, you see it. Singing is not the only thing he remembers of you from last night.

A few seconds of silence. Then you say, ‘Okay.’

Maybe you’ll regret it. But maybe you found your own drug. Maybe it is Jake.

[Update: Part 4 here]

#sweetbitter #jake #jake x you #jake x reader #jake x oc #fanfic #fic #sweetbitter fanfic #fanfiction #tom sturridge

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lyinginbedmon · 1 year

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What the hell I’m in a lot of pain tonight with lots still to do and feeling punchy.

Adult Human Female.

The quintessential transphobe’s response to the nonsense question of what constitutes a woman. I’m about to break this buzzphrase like a caped crusader’s spine over a luchador’s knee.

Adult - What is an adult? Are we going by a legal definition, in which case it’s purely arbitrary and also allows the law the theoretical power of nullifying your status as “a woman” AND BOY WOULDN’T THAT BE UNPLEASANT HUH, or are we going by some biological definition? In which case, what are we saying defines adulthood? Is it reproductive capacity, in which case we’re starting at teenagers and ending at menopause, IF THAT. Is it bones fusing, hormonal systems, some kind of physiological flux that we’re going to call puberty, absolutely NONE of which happens in the same reliable time frame for every single human being or even most of them? This is a ridiculous phrase upon which to base a concrete definition of someone’s identity, but that’s about to be the strongest in the lot.

Female - I’m out of sequence but believe me it’ll be worth it. The hell is “female” supposed to mean? Are we talking social expectations, in which case your definition of woman is whoever cooks dinner, cleans the house, raises the children, and does so all whilst looking unrealistically attractive in a very narrow line. Or are we going to be more biological, in which case we’re back at having to pin down some kind of distinct biological characteristic that is not only highly flexible but also entirely subject to things like diet, illness, psychology, etc. etc. I’m betting they want me to say anyone born with a uterus but we all know that’s not the case for a great many women and even more don’t have one that works through most of their life if it exists at all.

So hey, the final curtain: What in the Arnold Schwarzenegger Appears In Jingle All The Way is a “human” supposed to be? Because outside of a Farmyard Animals picture book, the biological concept of a species is EXTREMELY vague. We try to draw the line by saying that a human being is a bipedal viviparous mammal with 4 extremities each with 5 digits and an expressive face capable of high-level cognition and language, but do you have any idea how many people don’t meet that definition and, moreover, how many other species Do? We can try to draw lines by saying that two animals that can breed non-sterile children are the same species, but then things like ligers and tigons waltz over the horizon. In reality, there’s not a single thing in your body that plainly declares that you are human, it’s all just comparisons to a baseline that is broad, vague, and ever-changing.

And under no circumstances do you want to get a legal definition involved here.

For the victory lap, chromosomes. Humans have 46 of them on average, plus a few hundred copies of the entire mitochondrial genome, and transphobes love to cite 2 of them at the most. Of those 2, they love to pick on the itty-bitty Y chromosome, with its 200 individual genes. Meanwhile, the X chromosome has another 800 out of the grand total of TWENTY ONE THOUSAND. That is one 46th of the chromosomes, holding less than a single percent of the total genetic makeup in your body.

And that’s assuming that everything works the way they think it does, which it doesn’t.

There’s no singular gene that describes how your organs are positioned, how your pelvis is shaped, what hormonal cycles your hypothalamus runs, and so on and so on. But what there is is a complex interconnected web of genes that result in all of those things, at which you might say “wait a minute, don’t they still result in broadly similar results?” to which I would say YES, because if an organism keeled over dead from any casual genetic error we wouldn’t get very far up the evolutionary ladder.

Evolution is extremely fixated on managing things so that any particular hiccup doesn’t wipe things out, because it is Incredibly Easy for that to happen. It’s not perfect, because nature never is, but it’s gotten pretty good at compensating, and as a result there’s a lot of different genetic differences that result in something that looks, on the face of it, largely the same. There’s lots of different paths it can take to the same basic destination. But underneath the hood is a whole host of differences that most people spend their lives totally unaware of until somebody needs to actually look closer at their genome. Evolution absolutely despises definitions, because the more tightly constrained an organism’s makeup is, the more vulnerable and fragile it becomes.

We are a loose bag of chemicals flying through space, what the hell kind of certainty did you expect trying to pin a single concrete definition on a living population of over 8 billion specimens.

#lgbt #lying rants #long post

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formulafic · 8 months

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request a fic (open)

Under the cut is over 200 prompts compiled from the following: 1-100, 101-140, 141-220

ᕯno social media aus at this time

ᕯYou can request "xreader," second person pov, or third person pov. If you are requesting a fic from the given prompts, don't forget to send in the prompt number with your request.

themes I write:

☞fluff: dating, going on dates, falling in love, proclamations of love, etc. ☞domesticity: married life, families, children, proposals, caring for one another, home activities, etc. ☞angst: hurt/comfort (driver or reader being hurt), relationships falling apart, emotional characters, etc. ☞smut: most kinks (I will let you know privately if your request includes a kink I can't write), for the most part, will write pics with drivers or readers interchanged in these roles: d/s, daddy/mommy kinks, toys, overstimulation, dacryphilia, begging, delayed orgasms/edging, etc. (no bodily fluids, pegging, m/m, non-con).

who I write for:

☞Charles Leclerc ☞Lando Norris ☞Carlos Sainz ☞Mick Schumacher ☞Max Verstappen ☞Logan Sargeant

prompts:

1. “Do you want me to leave?” 2. “I swear it won’t happen again.” 3. “I’m not jealous.” 4. “You can’t keep doing this.” 5. “I’m going to take care of you, okay?” 6. “You can’t die. Please don’t die.” 7. “You did what?!” 8. “Were you ever going to tell me?” 9. “Don’t ask me that.” 10. “I might have had a few shots.” 11. “What’s with the box?” 12. “Say it!” 13. “I could kiss you right now!” 14. “Are you done with that?” 15. “Are you still awake…?” 16. “Excuse you?” 17. “This is all your fault!” 18. “I shouldn’t be in love with you.” 19. “I could kill you right now!” 20. “Just admit I’m right.” 21. “That doesn’t even make sense.” 22. “That’s irrational.” 23. “Just pretend to be my date.” 24. “Are you really going to leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?” 25. “When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!” 26. “I think I’ve been holding myself from falling in love with you all over again.” 27. “I’m not going to apologise for this. Not anymore.” 28. “That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant.” 29. “It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” 30. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.” 31. “You weren’t supposed to laugh!” 32. “This is, by far, the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.” 33. “I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” 34. “These stars are nothing compared to the ones I’ve seen in your eyes.” 35. “Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you.” 36. “Did I say that out loud?” 37. “Do you think they could have loved me?” 38. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” 39. “How long have you been standing there?” 40. “Have I ever lied to you?” 41. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” 42. “His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow.” 43. “I am not losing you again!” 44. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” 45. “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 46. “I just need to be alone right now.” 47. “When I picture myself happy… It’s with you.” 48. “I made a mistake.” 49. “I may be an idiot, but I’m your idiot.” 50. “I need you to forgive me.” 51. “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.” 52. “I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death.” 53. “I’m flirting with you.” 54. “I’m not good enough for you.” 55. “I fell in love with my best friend.” 56. “I’m sorry, what? I keep getting lost in your eyes.” 57. “I’m up to the challenge.” 58. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. Ever since the day I first met you.” 59. “I’m yours.” 60. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” 61. “If you go anywhere near them, you’ll have to deal with me!” 62. “It’s okay to cry…” 63. “What do you mean? It’s exciting!” 64. “Talk to me.” 65. “Look at me—just breathe, okay?” 66. “Look, I don’t have much time, but I wanted to say I love you.” 67. “Oh my god! You’re in love with them!” 68. “Well, this is where I live.” 69. “We finish it the same way we started—together.” 70. “What are you afraid of?” 71. “You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me.” 72. “You deserve so much better.” 73. “You don’t have to stay.” 74. “You don’t know you the way I do.” 75. “You fainted, straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” 76. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” 77. “You shouldn’t have even been there!” 78. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” 79. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.” 80. “Teach me?” 81. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?” 82. “Looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.” 83. “Just once.” 84. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.” 85. “It’s not what it looks like.” 86. “I got you a present.” 87. “Hey! I was gonna eat that!” 88. “See, now, what that so bad?”.” 89. “You’re the best part of me.”

#formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #mick schumacher fanfic #mick schumacher x reader #Logan sergeant fanfic #Logan sergeant x reader

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bohemian-nights · 11 months

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Okay but you calling Viserys, Gollum, makes my day😂 and honestly Daeron and Helaena? Why not?he may be the gentlest among his brothers, but he will do whatever it takes to protect his family😭❤.

He's loyal as hell🥲

And if that means marrying his own sister, he will do it because Helaena would end up be in a hostage situation because Jace is illegitimate and at those times(feudal times) bastards could inherit nothing and honestly if 200 years before the events of Games of Thrones nothing has changed:Some people needs to remember the war of the five kings happened because Joffrey Baratheron was a bastard, born out of wedlock and a product of incest.

Gollum thinks that everyone is going to accept Nyra for their vows, maybe also due to the doctrine of "Targaryen are gods do they can do whatever they want"-WRONG BUDDY, to change tradition it takes time and effort, it's not simple changing a system, some elements could be incompatible and a system can fall apart😬

Sorry for the lesson dear😭.

Going back to Goullm bethrothing Helaena and Jace:

Alicent is going to kill Viserys?👀 if that means ensuring Helaena's safety..🤭Gollum doesn't know what a mother's love would do for her children(mothers can kill and harm their own spouses for their children and I heard alot in the news, mothers can be very cruel when you harm their children🤭).

because Alicent is that type of mother and I'm tired of fics villainizing her(one of the reasons why I stopped reading HOTD fics and for the numers of white OCs😭)she's not perfect but she tries her best.

Alicent was going to harm THE HEIR OF THE THRONE to get justice for her son; TELL ME THIS.TELL ME THIS. IS THIS A BAD MOTHER?

They want her to be Cersei so bad(in the books she's not the ideal mother) not realizing that if she was, Nyra and her children, Gollum would be death🤣

Crossing my fingers for little Aemond and Rhaena having a romantic trip on dragonback

Aemond:I can show you the worldddddd😉

Rhaena: wiiii☺

While Aegon and Baela while waiting for their siblings.

Aegon:... Do you want a beer?

Baela: I'M EIGHT

Aegon: I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO DO!?

Laena making jelaous again Daemon😈?yes please, I want him to be green of envy, to grovel, to worship Laena like the goddess she is.

I really can’t think of a more fitting name for him😊

If it’s to protect Helaena Daeron would definitely do it(and they’d have a much healthier marriage than she and Aegon did in canon).

Marrying Helaena to Jace is a no-go and Mama Alicent will be doing all she can to make sure Gollum never succeeds, but she does have some time so she might not have to kill him.

I seriously don’t know how in canon Alicent gets a bad rape for being a bad mom. No she isn’t perfect, but it’s clear she genuinely loved her children and did all she could to protect them🤷🏽‍♀️ She’s by no means Cersei in that regard(she’s definitely never blown up someone they loved or had them arrested).

Rhaemond moments are what we live for 🙌🏽(we’ll get more in chapter 6 though than in chapter 5)

Lol Aegon really would try to offer Baela something to drink(even though he’s too young to be drinking himself 🥴 yeah that’s going to need to be put under control)

Daemon is going to start apologizing big time when he realizes he could lose Laena in that way too😏

#the pieces are coming together #😈#what we may mend #bnask #my writing asks✍🏽#bnasks

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drhu0806 · 11 months

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13 – “Come with me, hurry.”

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 (fanfiction) Characters: Astarion, Tav/custom player character Rating: G Warnings: none

“Astarion. Astarion, hey!”

It’s either very late in the night or early in the morning when he’s roused from his trance. Astarion blinks, his eyes bleary as a red tiefling swims into view.

“Wh—Do you have any idea what time it is? Are we being attacked? What’s happening?”

Kainé rubs her eyes. “No, I know. I know it’s early. We’re fine, nothing’s wrong.”

He makes a quick sweep over the inn room just in case, pausing at the window to try and determine how much light might be outside. The sky looks to still be dark, and as rattled as he is to be woken like this, he was nearing the end of his trance anyway. Judging from when he retired, they must be near dawn.

“If nothing’s wrong, why did you wake me at this ungodly hour? You’re not even fully awake yourself!”

“I wanted to—” She covers her mouth as she yawns. “I wanted to show you something.”

“And it had to be now?”

“Uh huh. So are you coming?”

He throws his hands up. “Well since I’m up, I might as well.”

They clamber into the proper clothing, and Kainé makes sure to leave a note for the rest of the party before they leave. The city’s air is chilly this early in the day, the sky above Baldur’s Gate growing into a beautifully faded indigo as the night begins to slowly slip away. She stifles another yawn as she gestures.

“Follow me.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Kainé walks these streets with a degree of familiarity; they cut through the city quickly, and Astarion recognizes the area they head into as one of its poorer sectors, not one he frequented much while under Cazador’s control. The streets are a little more dilapidated than the rest of the Lower City they’ve ventured through so far, the houses more ramshackle and run down. Though it’s well before anyone would reasonably be up, he catches sight of a few tieflings meandering about.

“Where are we?”

“It’s one of the few tiefling-dominant neighborhoods in Baldur’s Gate,” she explains. There’s a long pause before she continues, “It’s where I grew up, actually.”

He looks at her in surprise. “Are you showing me your childhood home? At this hour? That’s… romantic. I suppose. Is that what I’m supposed to say?”

“Ahaha, oh no, I wouldn’t have woken you up at such an ungodly hour just for that.”

They round another corner, into a small side street that leads to an unbeaten, grassy dirt path. Kainé perks up at the sight.

“Ah, here we are, and not a moment too soon. Come with me, hurry.”

She takes his hand and they begin the trek. It’s a small hike, leading away from the cluttered stone buildings and into a less developed area up a hill. It’s dark with no lanterns to light their way at the top, but Astarion doesn’t need any to gaze upon the sight that lies below them. He can see so much of the city from here, tiled roofs stretching far into the distance. He can even make out some of Rivington, and the horizon is clear to view.

“Good, we made it. Just in time too. Why don’t you come here and sit with me?” Kainé takes off her cloak and lays it on the damp grass. She takes a seat, patting the space next to her.

The sky grows lighter as he takes his place next to her. She tips her head at the view before them, and as he turns his gaze toward the horizon, he beholds a sight he’s barely enjoyed in over 200 years.

The golden edges of the sun crest from the skyline, and the sky is painted with a resplendent gradient of pink, orange, and red that blends into the fading indigo of the receding night. As it steadily rises, the orange grows predominant, and its warm tones blend with the clouds to airbrush their edges with regal purple, in a sight that even the most practiced master would be envious of. He’s caught many sunrises since their escape from the nautiloid, but none have matched the magnificence of this one. Astarion almost doesn’t look away as sunrays beam outward to wash everything in bright white light; after all, who knows how many more times he’ll get to witness this?

“Gods, it’s amazing,” he mutters. Sunshine, spectacularly sweet sunshine washes over him like a pleasant bath, and as he breathes in the cool morning air, cut by the scent of the morning dew on fresh grass, he tastes it so tangibly on his tongue: freedom. Its aroma has never been sweeter, never diminished for even a moment since he regained the ability to walk in the sun.

“Even after all this time, this is still the best place I know of to watch the sunrise,” Kainé muses. “Never found anywhere else that could compare.”

And you’d be right, he thinks.

“This was my secret base growing up. I used to sneak away and play here by myself all the time, at least until my little sister was old enough to follow me.” She gestures at a small patch of trees behind them. “Even my old treehouse is still here.” Scooting forward, she scrutinizes the buildings below before pointing. “There. That one, with the open roof. That’s the house I grew up in. The flower shop my grandmother ran on the bottom floor.”

He can’t make out many details of the house besides a door that leads out onto the roof, a table with some chairs placed on it. But in this moment, bathed in the light of the gorgeous dawn, Astarion can forget himself, and tries to imagine what a slice of life would have looked like for a younger Kainé. He sees the treehouse and tries to envision a small tiefling clambering up and down the branches. He spots the small flowers littered across the grass and he can see a little girl picking them, weaving them into a crown. And he can’t help but smile at the joyful little vision he’s dreamed up in his head, of halcyon days of the past.

“Did you want to stop by your home while we’re here?”

“...No. Maybe another time.”

There’s a hesitation there that holds something more significant, but he doesn’t push, wanting to let the two of them enjoy this moment in the present for just a little while longer. He reclines into her, resting his head in curve of her neck as she wraps an arm around him and pulls him closer.

“Thank you for showing this to me,” he hums.

She says nothing back, but she doesn’t need to, and they watch the dawn of a new day come, savoring in their little bubble of freedom they’ve created for themselves.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarionmance #astarion x tav #fictober23 #my writing #owlscratch

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imnotgoinganywhereok · 2 years

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Happy Sim-post Monday, everyone!! It feels good to be able to breathe and smell through my nose properly. I still have small coughing fits but other than that it’s been splendid!! Mega weird to be sick twice these past two months but I guess that’s Autumn for you... My students (or pupils) are gonna have tests this week, I’m sure they’re very happy about me coming back for that. The school stuff never stops...

[I had a paragraph about my job here but it became an embarrassingly long vent... so if you wanna see it, read it under the cut]

So, about the Owls now!! My fun with university is still here; I really was sleeping on the dormitory system, I love the uni life here (even if romanticised - I guess it’s not as cool IRL). Sure, doing projects and attending classes gets repetitive but it’s because studying just looks like that - between the classes is where the fun hides!! Darby’s Den is a pretty sweet spot for spending the entire day in, even after the classes. It’s very close, has a cafeteria if the Sims are hungry, and a library-like part if they wanna have late study sessions with other students. It’s mega cool!! I really adored how this Commons was built but - just like with the housing - I also renovated it a bit (gave it a bit of a personal touch, I suppose). Since poetry events are held there, I also made a very small place where Sims can sit and listen - of course, they prefer standing.

And this is how the trio spent their second semester. Nothing too special beside me discovering new features of the DLC and the sisters taking up new hobbies and making friends. Socialising really is fun, especially when some roommates stay for longer. Family members like to come over, even from other cities - which might be a lil weird, especially if they don’t have too high a relationship with each other. By the way, earning money by delivering lectures is not worth it in the long run (takes lots of time, gives back little money), but it’s a way to pass time too. Debora certainly likes to teach about Fitness to get others into it. Gizela reads poems in her spare time - not surprising, considering her love for Writing. Blanka still tries to get her first win at a ping-pong game.

Speaking of school stuff!! No, we’re not talking about the Owls yet, hold on. You can skip this paragraph no problem. I need to talk about this - even if it means I’m writing for myself. I just wanna say that I had a revision with my students and the state of Polish education is baffling. This is nothing new for us Polish folk but the thing is that many people really are becoming dumber and dumber. They’re in high school, first graders. We were revising Present Perfect. You could never tell me a person who knows this tense since elementary school (if not since kindergarden) could possibly say stuff like “Oh, the prompt says ‘to be,’ it turns into ‘didn’t were,’ right? ‘My parents didn’t were home last night?’” BECAUSE I WOULD NEVER BELIEVE YOU. But this happened in front of me!! How??? I absolutely understand the mental limits many students can have that can hold them down (my father has troubles learning languages too - because his brain just is like that, and that’s natural) but this is next level!! The sheer oblivious audacity when they hope I’m just gonna... what, surgically put knowledge in their brains without their own input? Crazy!! I was never like this and I can’t comprehend what’s going on nowadays. Another group, second grade. They had to write a short (200 words) informal letter. They were mostly good, I dare to say fantastic! But... See, I don’t have a problem with students with dyslexia, dysgraphia, and other dys-orders: you need a bigger font? Let me change that for you. More time to write? Be my guest. There’s too many exercises with writing and I should swap them for a simpler one? No problem, minister of education. But if you dare say “Why did you suggest I should work on my spelling if I have dyslexia?,” I think you’re gravely mistaken about the reason you are in school, or have the info about your dyslexia in the first place. This is not your golden ticket so you can never bother to spell words properly, and there’s no reason for you not to at least attempt to work on it and improve yourself - even for your own sake. Ehh, y’all would NEVER know how fucked your education system is until you WORK in this environment and see it for yourself. Makes me wanna punch walls and bite everyone who let this happen, not gonna lie :^(

#the sims 4 #discover university #UBrite Commons #commons #gallery #darby the dragon #lobster larry #Joaquin Le Chien

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cynicalmusings · 5 months

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being slightly delusional and thinking about yiju (and jing yuan) again and how their backstories sort of parallel each other’s, yet are different enough to give them vastly different views of the world (and themselves)…

(get ready for a tangent incoming)

the thing about both them and jing yuan is that they both lost the people closest to them in very short succession; jing yuan with the high cloud quintet, and yiju with their family after 1) the cangcheng was destroyed, which killed their parents, and 2) the time it took for them to be accepted onto the luofu as refugees, during which both their siblings (older and younger) died. as jingliu’s character story says, “The Cangcheng fell in calamity with very few survivors. I don't know what you experienced before the rescue team arrived...” but yiju never received any sort of master or guidance to help them cope with ‘what happened before the rescue team arrived’.

the main difference between yiju and jing yuan is that yiju was much younger relative to losing their family than jing yuan losing the high cloud quintet. the hcq dismantled ~700 years ago, and jing yuan was around young adulthood when it happened, so let’s estimate he’s roughly… 200 or so when that happened, making him roughly 900 years old in total.

meanwhile, yiju barely has any childhood memories left of the cangcheng; they were probably around 50 when the ship was destroyed (let’s just ignore this means canonically they’d be around 1,800 years old because the cangcheng disaster happened in the year 6,300 of the star calendar and it’s currently 8,100 in the present day… shhhhhhh. maybe they got frozen in ice march/aang style and didn’t age during half that time), so when they experienced their trauma clump, they were much less equipped to fathom what was happening to them beyond ‘i don’t know where i am and the people i love aren’t waking up’.

obviously, this doesn’t mean it was any easier for jing yuan to lose the hcq just because he was older when it happened, but i suppose the point i’m trying to make is that a life of not trusting others, keeping personal emotions and information to oneself, etc. is practically the only life yiju remembers living, meaning it’s had a more profound impact on their worldview as opposed to jing yuan, who at least had some grounding in life before things got ripped out from under his feet. he was experienced enough, i think, to begin accepting what happened even if it still hurt, whereas yiju is almost perpetually stuck in those moments of childhood when they were forced to shut their vulnerabilities up because they’ve barely ever known a different way of living.

jing yuan keeps quiet in the present about the hcq and his mourning because his character story implies that although it’s still painful, he’s wise enough to make some peace with what happened. part of it is likely some degree of not being willing to talk about it—he strikes me as the kind of person who’d rather suffer in silence than inconvenience others because of his problems—but, again, he’s been able to come to terms with it enough that mourning alone is at least bearable.

yiju keeps quiet about their past because they’ve convinced themselves that it doesn’t matter, that they don’t care about it, etc., but below the excuses they know they’re simply absolutely terrified of being vulnerable. since the cangcheng’s destruction, they were forced to harden and stifle down their emotions just to survive. vulnerability got their siblings killed and them most likely discriminated against when they first got onto the Luofu for being a foreign child who wore strange clothes and spoke with a strange accent—one they definitely taught themselves to lose. not to mention that the way they acquired funds for to start their tea house, and the business they do in it now, makes it actively dangerous to share personal information or anything at all which could be used against them.

essentially, jing yuan took the wisdom and growth from loss, whereas yiju took the cynicism. they took some degree of kindness and selflessness as well—they don’t want to see the unfair suffering they faced repeated in others, hence why they protect marginalised people and groups in their tea house as long as the discrimination they face isn’t a result of that person’s own actions—but potentially being ‘kind’ is something they will never admit to themselves.

and really, the only possible way i can only see them opening up to somebody is if they got drunk with somebody, and weren’t quite as in control of themselves as usual, and they caught some whiff of their old life back on the cangcheng—maybe a smell which reminds them of a dish, or some image which reminds them of something they saw—and most importantly somebody (cough cough jing yuan cough cough) made the first move in showing them that they’re not the only one hurting because of the past and extending a hand to them to tell them know they don’t have to be so afraid of other people—not everybody is going to twist yiju’s emotions to their advantage—and for one night, just maybe they can admit to themselves that they’re lonely and that feeling that way is okay. and i think that jing yuan would be willing to take that first step, because he has healed at least enough to share a bit of his experiences to them, and at the same time he can see that yiju—a person he does care about—is in dire need of a figure they can actually feel safe around. i can imagine yiju’s original accent would also slip out while they’re drunk.

also, from a preventing-mara point of view, i feel like it would also be good for both of them to share and make peace with their experiences instead of keeping them locked up.

#i don’t know what this is or why i wrote it #it probably doesn’t make much sense to anyone who can’t see directly inside my brain #which is you know most people #but there you go i guess #some yiju and jing yuan brain splurge #jingju? yijing?#anyway #whatever #r’s random thoughts #yiju’s actually a bit similar to aventurine in how their backstory and how it’s affected them #although i would say yiju is a bit kinder than aventurine #and a whole lot more careful

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perpetual-fool · 1 year

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I have a guitar.

I got it to further investigate my idea about string tension. It's cheap, I like it anyway, and I'm lost.

I think I've gone over the context multiple times, so I don't really wanna get into it again. Guitar out of tune, multi-scale more in tune, I think it's the strings. And that seems to be true. I put a set of 'light top heavy bottom' strings on it and it's sounding pretty okay to me. And with this I should be able to guesstimate what the ideal string gauges would be.

I got one that was >$200. At that price it's either going to need a lot of work or it's going to be junk. This one needed work. Although, not all that much. The strings that came with it were garbage, I could feel they were getting close to breaking before they got up to pitch, but then I was going to change the anyway. The frets were very rough, could feel it grinding when trying to bend. The bridge pins holding the strings in place only mostly fit, had to keep pushing them back in when tuning. And I'm going to have to make a completely new saddle. There's also some drawbacks I didn't know about. It's small, ~23" scale length, and it's made of carbon fiber (supposedly). The head is heavy and the body is very slippery, so it's a bit hard to hold onto. And the strings are so close together that I can't play it like a regular guitar. They're close enough that it's very difficult to squeeze two fingers next to each other to play adjacent notes, but not close enough for me to hit two strings with one finger. I can't bar chords at all 'cause some of the strings are just in a bad place under my finger. And I have to play with a pick because my fingers just don't fit between the strings. So it's another instrument I'm going to have to develop a weird technique for. The company that makes it mostly makes ukuleles, and really that makes a lot more sense. This thing would be great if it only had four strings on it. Oh, and the slot for truss rod access is far too small. There isn't enough throw to turn the nut with the angled end of the hex wrench, and there isn't a straight line out of the cavity to get the straight end in. If I didn't have a ball-end wrench I couldn't have adjusted it at all, and I really didn't have enough leverage cranking on the short end. I don't have a good solution to this problem. I guess I'd need a ball-end wrench with a t-handle? This should be good enough for now at least.

Anyway, I liked the idea of this one. Being small means it'll be convenient to store, carbon fiber (or at least, plastic) should mean it's very low maintenance. And I just like how it sounds. Wooden guitars have a 'warm' sound to them. I think I've heard carbon fiber described as sounding 'glassy', but it sounds 'clean' to me. And it resonates very nicely. The fretted notes sometimes cause sympathetic vibrations with open strings, which never happened before with my other guitar. And when just holding it I felt it starting to ring in response to something I was listening to. It's a neat feeling, haven't felt that since high-school orchestra.

I'm lost and confused about what to do with this. Lost I guess, just because it's a relatively complex instrument and I don't know what it's good for. And because I don't know what I want to do with music generally. But confused, I guess I'm trying to figure out I'm 'supposed' to do, how it's supposed to be played. And that's not adding up. The style of playing I was exposed to and what seems to be generally taught, consists either of strumming chords across all the strings, or just playing single notes for the lead part. And both those things sound terrible to me*. Playing all six strings at once sounds muddy, and the chords in question mostly aren't saying anything. Like, they're mostly just repeating the same two harmonious notes, but it's dissonant intervals that make the chords sound like something. And single plucked notes just don't sound like much on their own. *Those things sound terrible without distortion. Single notes still don't sound like much, but chords have more of a 'wall of sound' effect. like the guitar is being used moreso to generate noise. And that's not wrong per se. I feel like Tool is again an example of using their instruments well. But I feel like at that point you're moreso playing the electronics rather than the guitar. And maybe that job would be better done with some kind of synth but I haven't thought about it that much.

So what's guitar actually good for? Far as I can tell, and by my tastes, it's best at playing additional notes while a previous note is still ringing. So, it's sort of a weird harp.

Which leads us to tuning, which is mostly what I've been pondering about. For context I guess I should go over standard tuning first, for which there are three concepts. (I gonna skip some basic music theory stuff since that would be tedious. It's nothing you can't just find on wikipedia.) Firstly there's 'all fourths' tuning. Basically this puts the entire scale on four finger positions, so you don't need to shift at all (with one octave). The major and minor scales make these sort of patterns (up is closer to the nut, left is the bass strings):

_oo ooo oo_ ___ __o ooo ooo oo_

Secondly there's the 'fourth, major third, fourth' thing, like a ukulele. This shifts the pattern just a little, making chords and arpeggios easy. Although this results in two patterns depending on which string you start on. Simple major and minor chords are the most common, 1-3-5 chords, so I going to show that. And that's probably what it's for anyway. So, 'all fourths' on the left, 'major third' middle and right:

__o __o _oo _o_ _o_ _o_ _o_ oo_ o__ o__

So, having that third in there squishes the pattern. Lastly, these two seem to be arranged such that you can play extended chords across all the strings. Basically the two lower strings allow you to add another root and fifth, and that results in these two patterns:

o__ooo xo___o ___o__ ____o_ _oo___ __ooo_

(*I had some new thoughts on it after thinking it over awhile.) And that's fit for purpose I guess, I just don't like that purpose. Ideally I'd be able to just hold one note and play all of the significant intervals, or the entire scale, with the other fingers. I'm going to use my dozenal notation for this, why I've omitted certain things would again be its own post. But something like:

0___ _37X _48E _590

Except, that only works if I'm just holding the root note. If I want the lower note to move around then this may not be convenient. But there may not be a good way to make that work. Like, if I wanted to move around the lower and upper notes completely freely and independent of each other, I'd basically need a harp attached to the side of the guitar. Those exist, but that's not the problem I'm trying to solve. So ya' know, everything is a compromise and I'm going to have to give some things up. And that'll probably be 'voicing'. Like, this pattern is pretty close to 'fifths' tuning, but it's not in that order. And chords, one way of looking at it, you can play 1-3-5 or you can rearrange them and play 1-5-3. Like, a major chord might be something like C3-E3-G3, but you could move the E one octave up and play C3-G3-E4 instead. That's not really the same chord, but it sounds similar. Fifths would look like this:

07__ _83X _94E __50

And coincidentally, 3,8,X are the 'minor' versions of those intervals ('third', 'sixth', and 'seventh'), and 4,9,E the 'major' versions, so you'd be likely to be playing those at the same time anyway. Hypothetically, I could just arrange everything so that I could play anything I might possibly want in order. But that would be a very irregular tuning, meaning I'd be stuck always using the bottom string as the root note, since shifting over would throw everything out of whack. That's not wrong either per se, I just don't like the idea of being stuck with one thing. Also it'd have a much more limited range, but that's just another trade-off.

Speaking of, fifths has a little bit of a problem with it. Fifths kind of only works up to five strings. So like, if you started with a C2 as the low string (a bit lower than standard guitar), you'd end up with the high string being a B4. And that would be extremely fragile if you could get it to work at all. Alternatively, if you start on the high string with an E4 (standard), you'd end up with F1 on the bottom, a half-step up from the low string of a standard bass. No acoustic instrument is going to be able to project that range of frequencies effectively, and an electric instrument could, but probably isn't going to be set up to do that. Like, you might need to split the signal between two amps, for instance.

*After pondering it for awhile, I feel it's significant that standard tuning allows playing the root an octave down from a full 1-3-5-1 chord. And plucking through the notes of the chord also provides the 'movement' necessary to make it interesting. So I'm not so sure about my conclusions. Though I feel 'standard' doesn't make effective use of this either. Particularly, 'second' position (root on the A string) does not allow the full chord, instead being 1-1-3-5. And moving the root isn't feasible. Like, I can't go 1-1-3-5-1 and then (down) 7-1-3-5-1. Or if that's not clear, I want to move the bass note down without moving everything else, and I can't. Though I can move it up, so maybe that's a reasonable trade-off? So I guess I want another string on the low end. But also I like how the second pattern allows for moving the 'third' down to a 'second', so I feel like that irregular 'third' interval should be moved over one string. So it seems like the optimal tuning for plucking up and down chords looks like this:

BEADF#BE or _0__270 _1__251 ____38_ ____36_ ___0492 ___136_

Incidentally, as far as I know this is the type of tuning that's common for lutes and viols, so that's validating. Although there doesn't seem to be a good way to play 'sevenths', but an efficient way to do that isn't coming to me atm. Also this would not allow the 'big ukulele' style of guitar playing, but as I said, not my thing.

So given all this, I'm not entirely sure what I want to do with this particular guitar or plucked instruments in general. This guitar is a bit dysfunctional, standard tuning doesn't work since I can't bar more than two strings at once, and I can't even do that if I have to reach for notes. So I'll try all fifths, it's small enough that I should be able to take the high string all the way up to B4. And the latter, mostly it's just an issue of not having anything 'musical' to say yet, so I don't know what instrument would suit it.

- https://youtu.be/Vlzk9989dzg

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tloaftyob · 1 year

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5-2-2023

I broke my fucking leg. I happened on April 6th, 2023 while I was on my way to Physics. What a time to do it, weeks before graduation. What a terrible thing to happen. I was boarding, fucked up, and the next think I knew I was on the ground with my right foot flopping around. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would to break a bone, but I guess that’s adrenaline. I was shaking like hell though. Well, it did hurt when I moved it. It hurt like hell, burned. But staying still was alright. I laid there on the grass, calling Ellie, my mom, and Colby. Ellie was over an hour away where she lives, but I just wanted to let her know. I called my mom for the same reason, but Colby was on campus, so I asked him to take me to the ER.

We got to the ER, they took X-rays and told me what I already knew, it was broken. Really bad. As a math major, y=x^3 bad. My ankle bone got jammed up in between my tibia and fibula, and I broke them both. They got me in a bed, and moved me to a room to wait for the doctor to be available. They were going to put me under conscious sedation and move my bones back to where they should be and then splint me up. I laid there for a while waiting. Medical people trickled in, the team. They put some stuff in my IV, my arm went cold, and then I felt tipsy. I was awake but I did not care about what was going on. I don’t even remember them touching my leg, certainly no pain. By the time I was coming down I was all splinted and alone. A few tears ran down my cheeks. I was relieved, sad, frustrated this was happening, thankful that the worst of it was over now that my leg was stable. I stayed there for a bit longer, peed in a jug. Colby was eventually allowed to come in and keep me company, so that’s nice. He got some good pictures of me hooked up to the machines. My parents arrived around the time I was allowed to leave. Although my leg was good and splinted, I could still feel the bones shift when changing its orientation. Terrible clicks and grinding.

I was wheeled to the entrance, and got into the back of my dad’s truck. I sat sideways, with my leg on pillows. We went to my dorm to get my essentials, then to my car. My mom was going to drive me to Ellie’s and stay there for the weekend to help. I cried more on the way to her, this time because of how stressful this all was, how inconvenient it would be, how uncertain the future was. I was hopeful to return to classes after a week.

That wouldn’t happen.

I had appointments, the doctor talked to me, we would meet again Monday to check my swelling, and if it was good we would do surgery the next day. That’s what I wanted. I wanted to be back to normal, bones not moving. Easter was that weekend, so we went home for that. We came back up, I had my Monday appointment and was cleared for surgery Tuesday.

I got there early in the morning, like 6:30AM or something. We got me all ready, hospital gown, IV, hairnet, all of it. My blood pressure was through the roof though. I was so nervous, so dehydrated, so hypertensive that my systolic was over 200 in a few readings. They had me in holding, I was about to get my nerve block, and then they said “No, too dangerous. Go home and get that fixed, come back later.“ so I did. My mom scheduled an appointment with my primary doctor all the way at home, and we went to it later that day. 2 hours away. Damn car ride.

She prescribed me medicine. Then it didn’t work as fast as we wanted, so she doubled the dose and prescribed another. That didn’t work either, so she prescribed me a third. Just barely, I was cleared for surgery a week after my surgery was supposed to be.

All this time, I am just waiting around at home. At this point I learned that my independence was gone. I had to crutch everywhere, I couldn’t live alone. No classes for me. In hindsight maybe I could have asked the professors to set up a zoom meeting and set up a laptop on a desk so I could join virtually or whatever, but it is too late.

Anyways, it is the day of my surgery, second try. I have to be at the hospital at 5:30AM, so we wake up at 4:30AM I think. We get there, do everything, blah. The lady putting my IV in gets a valve, it hurts like hell. She tries again, it works. My hand is still bruised 2 weeks later. I get back to holding, I wait a bit, blood pressure is a lot better. Still stage 2 hypertension, but not too bad compared to last time. They give me some good stuff in my IV, I feel tipsy, they numb my leg with novacane and then block my nerve. They have to it in 2 places. It hurts like hell but the feel good stuff they put in my IV makes me not care, it was really nice.

I can no longer move my leg.

They take me to the operating room. It is cold. There are like 8 doctors there. They put a warm blanket on me, tell me to breathe deep breaths in and out of this mask, and then I forget. Fuck, I wanted to tell them to take pictures! I wake up back in holding. I can neither feel nor move my leg. That’s weird, but expected of course. They bring me back to the room I was first in, Ellie is there. I am so happy to see her and to be done with the surgery. I think I might have cried a bit.

We head home after a bit, I crutch in to the apartment with my leg swinging under me. I have literally no control over it, it’s really odd. I could try to move it, try to send the signals to the muscles, but nothing happens. I have my dad help me move it onto the pillows and blankets we have stacked up on the bed for elevation and comfort. My post-op is in 2 weeks and a day. For present me, that’s tomorrow.

The time between now and then has been spent doing homework, sleeping, watching YouTube, and showering with Ellie’s help. I hadn’t left the apartment in 10 days. Then her grandpa died. He was doing really poorly, and we were going to go home to see him that weekend, but on Thursday night she got a call. We went home the next morning. There was a small family-only gathering at the funeral home on Sunday. We went back up Sunday evening.

Colby broke up with Sarah completely, I don’t know if I mentioned that on here yet. She is not taking it well. She goes from sad to furious right back to sad in days. It’s good for Colby to see that so he can see what he dodged. They still have to live together for the rest of the semester because of complications, but there isn’t much time left in the semester. He came over last last weekend to get out of his apartment and it was fun. Ellie and him got drunk, we all played Mario Kart and BotW. I couldn’t drink because of my percs. They definitely helped with the pain. Especially when I double dosed on the day after my surgery. I just ran out last night. For the past week I have just been taking them at night to help me stay comfy while sleeping. I am celebrating tonight by having a peach schnapps drink. One of my favorites.

I can’t wait for TotK to come out. It comes out the same day as I graduate, but I am not even sure I want to walk across the stage, seeing as I would have to crutch. And sit there in the crowd with my leg and all that. I have to go to campus May 10th to take some finals and do some labs, and I am not really looking forward to that but they won’t let me do them virtually. Meh shmeh.

Yeah that’s about it, I have just been sitting around, watching my blood pressure, lowering my sodium, doing homework, watching YouTube, missing Ellie when she is at work or class, feeling pain in my leg (which now has metal in it, so I am now a cyborg).

Time to get back to some homework.

GOOD AFTERNOON TUMBLR!

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