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transrightsyamaguchi · 6 months

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thoughts on volume 2 of real

i was going to liveblog it like i did with volume 1 but i. got so absorbed i ended up reading the whole thing in one sitting. anyway (under a cut bc it's Long but it's mostly spoiler free):

i can See the nomiya-azumi-kiyoharu love triangle coming but i want azumi and kiyoharu to end up together so badly holy shit. especially now that i know just how long this slow burn has been burning. i love. straight people

MENTION OF THE WHEELCHAIR BASKETBALL POINT SYSTEM!!! author did his research 👍

i changed my mind about takahashi i like what happened with his arc here. it might be because i went 3 weeks between reading the first and second volumes and had time to forget about his asshole behavior but man i felt for him. he's such a dick but you can't help but cry with him. out of all the characters you feel takahashi's anger/sadness/grief the most viscerally. and good lord is this boy going through the five stages of grief.

also re: takahashi i NEED to know how nomiya and kiyoharu react to seeing him again once he gets out of the hospital. we got a little sliver of nomiya reaction to finding out he's been hospitalized but i need the reunion scene. especially since takahashi's met kiyoharu before and even lost a game of basketball to him. that reunion will be so interesting. i don't even have predictions for how it would go but i think losing another game of basketball against kiyoharu would be good for takahashi in terms of character growth.

i cannot stress enough how masterfully done the scene transitions are here. the first volume too. i was wondering if that was a fluke but i think this guy just really likes Juxtaposition.

HI BABYGIRL!!! (said about an adult man who is the same age as me)

KIYOHARU BACKSTORY. god he's such a cute little guy. the eyelashes.

my heart was racing during the whole backstory sequence and THE VOLUME ENDS IN THE MIDDLE OF IT. i hope we see him get diagnosed---i can't imagine why we wouldn't? other than brevity purposes at least.

the whole "i'll confess to her when i break 11 seconds" thing. i had to put down the book for a second and wait for my heart to go back to normal. do you mean to tell me that (gestures to the backstory) all THIS happened and then he just. sat on that crush for five. years. not just him but azumi too. oh they're perfect for each other.

also they NAMED THE CANCER. i don't know why i'm so excited that a writer has done the bare minimum amount of research on a medical condition a character has but. you know. usually i don't even get that (gestures vaguely to yukimiya kenyu). i wonder if it's too much to hope for for kiyoharu to have a rotationplasty. probably. we'll find out.

one negative thing for all this gushing: i hope this series passes the bechdel test at some point. azumi is a good character but she's very Not Like Other Girls. i'm inclined to blame some of this on the fact that this was written in 1999 but. come on man.

i keep feeling like this is a bit too good to be true if that makes any sense. like. togawa kiyoharu is a disabled character who is fully capable of kicking ass but is also well-rounded with flaws and personality, who isn't constantly angsting over being disabled, whose character arc does not surround his disability (what's set up of his arc so far is that he quit his team because he's more competitive than the other players and he's bad at cooperating. bit of a kageyama complex. he'd have fun in blue lock). and he's cute. no way they're just Giving us all that. there has to be some sort of catch. i'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.

hopefully the other shoe doesn't drop in volume 3 otherwise i have to return the whole stack to the library at once and that will be even more embarrassing than checking them out was. i spent so long at that damn self-checkout stand trying to cram all 14 books into my bag.

#he speaks #live nephi reaction: real

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we-are-inevitable · 3 years

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okay hi yes this is mostly related to the newsies football au: so I know essentially nothing about football, and it's also way different in the U.S. than it is in Australia so a couple questions if you don't mind. 1. Do all teams have to wear those ridiculous uniforms (if I can even call them that) with the giant shoulder pads? Because all I can imagine is Romeo, short af, running around in that. 2. Do you need to understand that basics of American football to follow the fic? Okiee thank you !!

PLEASE POOR ROMEO AHAHAA

okay so!!

ONE: unfortunately the giant pads are part of the gear they have to wear for safety measures </3 unless they're playing flag football (a non-contact version of football with no tackling (it's hella fun btw)).

ALSO, since you brought up Romeo, i'm gonna go ahead and list the teammates that are mentioned !!

so obviously Jack is the quarterback- the team captain, basically. jack is the one who calls plays during the huddle and passes the ball.

albert is a running back (halfback); he receives the ball from jack and runs it, so he's the one weaving through the opposing team to get as far down the field with the ball as he can while other boys on his team block the opposing team from trying to stop him.

tbh i don't have everyone else really lined up with titles??

but the other boys i mention are: Finch, Specs, Romeo, Elmer, and Oscar; other newsies are on the team too, they're just not named!!

and of course Davey is on a different team, which he's on with Spot! Davey is the quarterback of his team!

as for the rest of them:

Race- he's a team manager, and also dating albert. as team manager, he helps with fundraising activities, and helps with set-up and break-down of the field before and after games/practices. he also takes care of like. the water station, and if a player gets hurt he's the one who manages the first aid stuff. obviously he's not the only one; the others just arent named!! also he's kind of a joker so one of his UNOFFICIAL duties is to help hype up the crowd (he learns cheers and dance routines on his own time and just. does them behind the cheerleaders sometimes)

Charlie- he's jack's best friend, but he's not on the team; football isn't really his thing and he focuses on his wheelchair basketball league, in addition to all AP classes and yearbook, which he does with Kath. he's the guy Jack goes to for football advice from someone objective, and he's also the one who just. gives no shits about any of jack's bullshit

Katherine- Jack's ex-girlfriend-slash-bestie. She runs both the yearbook committee and the school paper; since all of her friends do sports, she runs the sports sections of both, and thus is at every football game and has been since freshman year! she also gets with Sarah later on!

and for the SECOND part of your question:

this is going to be the LEAST accurate football au there is! i know nothing about how football is played and everything i know is from google so i've probably gotten things wrong in this ask!! so based on the ask, you KNOW the actual au is going to be inaccurate !! but its okay because it's just for fun!!!!

so no, you don't have to know the basics to like this au! a lot of the au actually takes place IN BETWEEN games, so like. the actual football stuff isn't as prevalent as it may seem??

anyway i hope this was what you were asking !! i can't wait for yall to see this ajnkfnging

if anyone has more questions abt the au feel free to send them in !!

#ask a jac !#football au #pls i love this so much and i literally know nothing about the subject #however we are not aiming for accuracy #we are aiming for Entertainment

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ernestsinclairs · 5 years

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Test of Faith Pt. II - Bryce Lahela x MC

Bryce Lahela x MC (Alina Sorokina)

**Note: This takes place a few days after Part I, I just wanted everything to fall into place. This story is being continued by popular demand.

“You’re pregnant.”

Jackie whistled in satisfaction and clapped Landry on the back, whose expression could more or less be described as a fish gasping for air.

“I knew it, Sorokina,” she said smugly. “I knew you were off weeks ago. And then you ate my blueberry muffin at breakfast last Tuesday. You hate those things.”

“Wait but who - what - the dad -” Landry stammered, his cheeks suddenly flushing bright red as he tried to make sense of the situation. “The dad - who - wait a minute -”

“Well congratulations!” Sienna squealed, her shoulders quivering with excitement. “Look at you, already ahead of all of us!”

Nimbly jumping over the locker room bench, she drew Alina into a tight squeeze, then let go abruptly as she remembered. She settled for a pat on the shoulder instead.

“No wait, but who - who,” Landry stumbled, the tips of his ears turning the same rosy shade as his cheeks. Jackie fixed him with a sympathetic look, then patted him as if he were the lost puppy some of the surgical interns had found on the side of the street last month.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s Bryce’s.”

“Him?” Landry said incredulously. “Lahela? The surgical one who can’t keep his hands off knives? The one that plays basketball half naked every morning? The one with the hair of a-”

He was suddenly interrupted by a swinging door, sending all of them into a hush. Alina tensed, fully expecting the sounds of padding shoes, perhaps the face of Aurora Emery or some other chief resident who’d caught wind of the rumors. In such a hospital like Edenbrook, word traveled fast. That would be the end of her.

Thankfully, the padding shoes never materialized, turning instead into the sound of wheels screeching on linoleum. For once, Alina didn’t wince at the noise.

“Guys, you won’t believe what I found!” Elijah huffed, nearly crashing into an ajar locker door before Jackie managed to pull the wheelchair’s handle and steer him out of the way. “Look!”

In his hand was one, disheveled, and for some reason, mangled pregnancy test.

“So, I was getting a suture kit for Dr. Mirani in the storage closet,” Elijah babbled. “And then I’m backing out of there and I hear a crunch. So I reach down there and it turns out I ran over this!”

He held up the twisted piece of plastic triumphantly.

“Someone’s hiding something!” he finished eagerly. “Do you know who it is? Oh man, when Ramsey or Emery hears about this, the entire hospital’s going to explode. Or at least this wing. Woah, what if it’s someone we know? I know that pediatrics resident was getting frisky in the psych ward and -”

“It’s me,” Alina finished. “I dropped it a few days ago. Sorry.”

Elijah cut off mid sentence, his jaw dropping as he processed the news. When confronted with the inability to, he simply shut it.

“Oh.”

“So what’s the plan now?” Sienna piped up, trying to break the shocked silence Elijah had left behind. “You’ve told Bryce by now, right?”

“You and him are the only ones now,” Alina admitted. “I just don’t think I can stomach Ramsey or any of our bosses knowing.”

“Well, you’re going to have to do it soon,” Jackie said bluntly. “Your residency ends, what, next week? And Ramsey has that job and paycheck on his team lined up right after. I don’t think anyone will be too happy if you ghost him a couple months down the line.”

“I know, I know,” she winced, hands flitting unconsciously to her still flat stomach. “I’ll do it tonight.”

“Say a prayer for me, guys.”

“Are you sure you want to do this now?”

The couple stood just ahead of the closed office door, the only sign of life being the faint glow of lamplight behind drawn shutters. The tiny beams of soft light radiated across the dimmed hallway, sending tiny little streaks down the floor. Pity she couldn’t catch them and use them to cheer her up a little.

“I have to do it soon anyways,” Alina sighed, closing her eyes in a mixture of resignation and exhaustion. “And after he overhead part of us . . . something tells me he’s just waiting for me to come.”

Bryce was silent for a moment, a rare little thing she’d been noticing more and more the past few days. When he finally spoke, there was no witty quip or suave flex that she had so loved when they first met.

“Good luck,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

Flashing him a weak, but grateful smile, Alina knocked. The sound seemed to reverberate down the deserted hallway and she sucked in her breath, hating the sudden silence.

“Come in.”

With one last look at the young man standing behind her, Alina bit her lip and entered. Just as she’d expected, the look on Ramsey’s face told it all.

“I’m guessing that you’ve figured it out,” she said sheepishly as she latched the office door behind her. “It’s your job after all.”

“When were you planning on telling me?”

“Soon, I promised,” Alina said, cautiously walking forward to take a seat across from him. “I just needed to get some things sorted out first.”

The chair screeched awkwardly as she slid it out, trying not to make eye contact the entire time. The air was brimming with anticipation, but only silence met it. Both sat still, unwilling to make the first move until Ethan slid open the right drawer and brought out a slim sheaf of paper.

“Maternity leave papers,” he said, sliding it forward. “You’re going to have to make some fast plans.”

“Ethan, you know my residency ends next week,” Alina pushed. “We talked about this - the job on your diagnostics team. I’ve been working towards this for years. I need to take that position.”

“And you will,” Ethan reassured. “I’m not letting your career go up in smoke for this. You can take the position as long as you need before taking leave. The job’s there, and it’s staying there.”

Alina sighed in relief and thumbed through the papers. The standard ones she’d expected were all present, the leave applications, the approval sheets, the tiny rows of black slats for signatures and dates and whatever. And there, lying at the bottom, was a neat little job form, her name inked at the top.

Edenbrook Hospital Diagnostics Position Offer - Alina Sorokina

“It’s time you start saving,” Ethan said, leaning back in his chair and reaching for a file of patient charts. “Children are expensive, and so is my time. Anything else you need to ask me?”

Alina paused for a moment, eyes feasting on the position form before quickly sliding it back towards the bottom of the pile. Perhaps things were falling into place after all. The chances had all aligned, just a little differently than she’d first imagined.

“Thank you Dr. Ramsey,” she said quickly before bowing out. “I’ll get the forms back to soon.”

The door clicked shut behind her and Alina breathed out in relief, sliding back against it until a strong pair of arms lifted her just as she touched the ground.

“How did it go?” Bryce asked worriedly. “You were sighing. That’s bad isn’t it?”

He groaned, burying his face in her hair and squeezing her close before parting. Even from under the easygoing facade, his apprehension rolled off of him in waves, only spiking when Alina laughed.

“No, everything’s good, Bryce,” she said. “I’m getting the job. I’ll have the money for everything, I have the leave forms. Everything’s good.”

Smiling at him, Alina swung an arm around his waist and hugged him close the best he could as the two of them made their way back down the hall.

“Let’s go get a place for the two of us.”

“I think you mean three.”

@teenytinymagician @regency-lady @tmarie82 @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @divergentofhogwarts @indiacater @queenlorelaiwalker12 @findingdrake @frugalchoicer @valenciajeff @melodyofgraves @eileendannie @anxiousdepressedintrovert @nampyeonjin @wisteriandreams @divergentofhogwarts @simsvetements @lovelyvenusianlady @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @leelee10898 @mariamulroney @beaumontbae

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septic-dr-schneep · 6 years

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JSE Commission - Stepping Stones

Summary: Commission for @luvstoriesatstoplights2. After a car accident robs him of his legs, his family and his joy, Chase copes through entries in his journal. Perhaps, with time and effort, he can heal through them too.

April 11th

Well…hey there, diary, it’s Chase Brody. That sounds stupid already, but I’m writing with this pen Jackieboy got me, so I can’t go back and fix it. Whatever.

Apparently having a diary or a journal is supposed to be therapeutic. If I need to clear my head, I can just write down whatever I’m thinking about here, put it all out where it’s private and I don’t have to worry about anyone else judging me for it. Jackieboy says it’s gonna help with my healing, but I don’t think he gets it. It’s my legs that need healing and writing here isn’t going to do anything about that. I’m trying it just so he’ll stop bringing it up.

So…I’m supposed to talk about what’s going on in my head. Honestly, it’s the same old stuff kicking up because I’m too depressed to put it all behind me. Yay, me!

I’m not feeling great.

I dreamt about it all again this morning—the same old dream about the crash. It woke me up before Schneep came in, but I tried to look like I was still sleeping. After dreaming all night about those paramedics dragging me out of the van, I didn’t really want his help. Pretty simple to understand. But if I’d let him go without getting me up, I’d have to just lie there and think about the dream for ages until he came back to try again. Who knows when that would be?

I wish it was just a dream, but every time I wake up and I try to turn over to get away from it, I can’t.

I just…

I wish Stacy was with me.

Anyway, Schneep was really gentle today—a lot nicer than yesterday, at least. To be fair, I know I wasn’t exactly cooperative when it came to the whole showering thing. They finally got it fully modified so I can roll in with the chair and Schneep’s been saying for a while that towel baths aren’t “efficient” enough.

He probably just wants me to start becoming more independent, which, yeah, is a good thing, but then he was telling me how much it cost to get it changed. Yeeeah, telling me how much trouble you’re going to for me really helps to boost the self-esteem, buddy. So I told him I was sorry if I took up too much of his precious budget; maybe it would’ve been cheaper if he’d let me try and crawl there. I think I startled him, but that didn’t last long. We got in a big fight about it and…well, let’s just say I never showered.

It wasn’t a good day for either of us. I know it was a misunderstanding and I know I hurt Schneep’s feelings with everything else I said, so I can’t really blame him for biting back. But now he’s being all quiet and tiptoeing around me and I feel bad for making him feel bad about it.

Wow. I guess I did have a lot on my mind.

***

April 23rd

Counseling sucks.

How do they expect me to sit there and talk about everything with this lady who’s walking around on her own two feet? And Marvin’s right there in the room watching! It’s not like I’m going to open up at all with him there, but I don’t want him to leave me alone with her either.

Basically I stalled and went around in circles as much as I could until we ran out of time. I’m pretty sure both of them knew what I was doing, but what’s weird is they didn’t try to stop me. Marv barely said a word at all, and the lady just kept asking questions in this really irritating “patient voice”. Does she practice that every morning? She’s got to, there’s no way she could grate on me that much without putting a lot of effort into it.

Counseling’s never done anything for me. Didn’t stop Stacy either, did it?

The shrink’s voice sounds like hers and I hate it.

***

April 30th

Talked to Schneep and Jackie and I’m trying a different counselor today. We’ll see how it goes.

***

May 17th

The kids finally convinced Stacy to let them call. I cried, I couldn’t help it. Why has she made them wait so long? I’ve missed so much! I HATE FEELING LIKE I’M NOT THERE FOR THEM!

I hate not being there for them.

Connor doesn’t like it at their new school. He says there are bullies, but Brianna’s been trying to stick up for him. Just about gave me a heart attack when she said she got hurt…No nine-year-old should be getting her arm broken at school to protect her brother. What are you thinking, Stacy? Their old school was the best one for them! Oh, but because it’s closer to me and you don’t want to be within a fifty-mile radius of a “burden”, you take them there? Great, awesome, mother of the year!

…Getting off track.

Bri said they decorated the cast to be really pretty. I keep imagining it like the armrests on my chair, with all the smiley faces and heart stickers they put on.

I miss them.

***

June 11th

I can’t do this anymore, I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I CAN’T DO IT, I CAN’T DO IT, I CAN’T

WHY CAN’T I DO ANYTHING ON MY OWN?

I HATE MYSELF

I HATE BEING USELESS

I HATE NEEDING HELP

I HATE EVERYTHING

***

June 12th

Haven’t gotten out of bed. Marv came in to keep me company. I don’t deserve him. I’m pathetic.

He’s asleep now.

I wish I could fall asleep that easily. I wanna sleep without dreaming about it anymore. I close my eyes for one second and all I see is the bridge and the black ice. I hear the kids and Stacy screaming and crying and I can’t move. I can’t do a thing.

I’m tired.

***

July 10th

Showering’s gotten a little easier. Well, no, not easier, but I’m more used to it. Schneep’s pretty proud.

While I was waiting for the water to warm up and he was off getting a change of clothes for me, I turned myself around and tried a wheelie for a minute. That was…actually kinda fun, even if I ran into the counter like an idiot.

I miss doing stunts. I never actually put up a video explaining what happened; I haven’t even gone on to find out if the channel still has any subscribers. Should get to that sometime, just to see.

***

July 24th

Counseling was actually kinda nice today. It was good to get some things off my chest.

He asked if I still felt guilty for needing the others to help me.

It’s weird, but I’m not really sure. It’s just…life now.

***

August 15th

I can’t believe I’m actually considering this.

Marv took me somewhere a few days ago. Said he wanted to show me this amazing surprise and that he knew I’d love it, which is kind of ironic. I reminded him that it was his birthday, not mine, but he said this would be a gift to himself too, if we were lucky. What’s that supposed to mean?

He took me to this paralytic training center and there were a ton of people in wheelchairs there playing sports—swimming, tennis and basketball and volleyball, even horseback riding. I had no idea that was a thing! It was a surprise, that’s for sure. Marvin kept watching me to see my reaction. Yes, Marv, I noticed; you’re not exactly subtle.

I was…I don’t know, maybe a little mad at first. I thought it was his way of saying, “This is where you should be by now! Why haven’t you been making progress like they are?” But we kept watching it all happen and when our guide left us alone for a minute, he looked at me and…he was crying.

He hasn’t cried since the accident. Not that I’ve seen, at least. But before I could ask if he was okay, he asked me, “Is something like this what you might want someday?”

Like he was giving me a choice. I haven’t had a choice to make for myself in a while now, least not when it comes to the chair, so to think that I could somehow choose to end up like those people…To be asked if I wanted to…I’ll be honest, that scared me a little.

I’m still scared, cause…I think it might be.

I think I do want that.

I’m actually considering Bro Average again and it terrifies me.

***

August 22nd

I’m heading back to the studio. I’m probably insane.

***

September 9th

Got the last of the ramps secured today and I think I like them so far. I’ve been doing some more with the wheelies and planning a few different kinds of spins that I can practice.

The crew is pretty happy that I’ve been calling them again, and the others are excited! Well, Jackieboy and Marvin are. Schneep’s nervous, I can tell, but I just have to keep telling him that I want to go somewhere. I want to make myself good for something. Bro Average was the most fun I ever had and I want to have it again, even if it’s different.

Maybe if When I put out my first wheelchair video, Brianna and Connor could see it. <3

***

September 27th

Why does this have to be so HARD? “Oh, sure, I can do all these tricks and do something useful with my life!” That’s it, smart guy, go ahead and break your face and a camera while you’re trying to impress everyone! I’m supposed to know this stuff by now! I’ve been practicing it for weeks!

Why do I even bother setting goals? I’m just gonna fall short like I always do! Too many expectations for half a man, right, Stacy?

Why did I ever think I could do this again?

***

October 7th

It’s eating at me all the time. Everything I did wrong. I’m gonna try it again.

***

November 25th

I LANDED THREE HANDPLANTS! I LANDED THREE HANDPLANTS IN! A!! ROW!!! Tried to make it a fourth, but it didn’t work out. Jackieboy almost tried to help me when he saw me start skidding, but Marvin kept him back. Said I needed to take the hit and get back up, and I did. At least I didn’t cry like a baby this time, haha. Actually, I haven’t done that in a while. It’s felt pretty good <3

Anyway, the video’s coming out tomorrow and I just know everybody’s gonna flip out! I got a comment from Bri and Connor on the last one. I hope they get to watch this one too!

***

December 2nd

The doc brought up something today and it’s so weird…With everything I’ve been doing and planning and thinking about, I hadn’t noticed.

The nightmare’s gone.

I’ve been dreaming of better things.

#youtube #jacksepticeye #fanfiction #youtube fanfiction #writersofjack #commission #chase brody #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #dr schneeplestein #chase brody's family #alternate universe #angst #feels for days #eventual happy ending

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coleymari-blog · 7 years

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A War Fought at Home : Chapter 6

Corporal Natsu Dragneel has been through Hell, and unfortunately for him, the ride isn’t quite over. How will a new Rehab program at the local VA help? And will a certain blonde help make matters better?

Modern Military AU. Warnings for mentions of depression and adult language/situations. Other warnings to come as the story progresses. Cross post on AO3 and FF.net.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

“--THE FUCK?! So you just offered up our house?!”

In all honesty, Gray had every right to be upset. It wasn't like Natsu had given away the last of their beer or something, he'd offered their spare bedroom to a seemingly random college girl! The two Marines had at one time discussed the possibility of renting out that room sometime in the future, but that plan had always been dependent on Natsu and his progress.

“If I didn't, she'd have to drop out and move back to Acalypha, Ice Dick,” Natsu replied as he wheeled himself over to the sink to drop his dishes in the sink, his voice taking on a somewhat whiny tone against his will. At least he had waited until they were home to drop the bomb. He had brought it up over dinner, initially causing the Sergeant to choke on his pasta, but eventually Gray had gathered enough rage to just let Natsu have it.

“And this is our problem how…?” Gray snapped, immediately beginning to wash the dishes, handing the dripping ones down to Natsu for drying.

“Because she's nice and deserves help?” What else was he supposed to say? Oh, she needs to move in with us so I don't have to say goodbye to the one female that doesn't look at me like a puppy in a cone collar? Natsu shook his head and sighed. “Come on. It's only for a year until she graduates.” He racked his brain for any other argument he could muster. A thought came to mind but it was the cheapest move in the book. “Maybe she has cute friends that like guys in uniform?”

Gray huffed grumpily as he continued to wash the same plate he’d be working on for the past couple minutes. Natsu could tell that his best friend was more upset by Natsu’s single minded decision making than he was by the prospect of Lucy moving in. All Natsu had to do was find the right switch to flip and Lucy would have the green light. When Gray finally handed off his plate, he looked down at Natsu and cocked his head to the side slightly, as if trying to read the other Marine like a book. A moment passed before Gray spoke again, his gaze falling in defeat. “You know we’ll have to actually keep this place clean then, right?”

YES! Natsu thanked his roommate rapidly before speeding off for his room to grab his phone. He happily shot a text off to Lucy before he heaved himself out of his chair and flopped onto his bed. Folding his sculpted arms underneath his head, the salmon-haired Marine breathed in deeply before allowing himself to sink further into his mattress, but not before his face lit up with the biggest shit eating grin he had ever donned. Lucy moving in meant that he’d get to see her every day, eat meals with her, watch movies together, everything he craved to do with her but couldn't in the capacity he really desired. But if he didn't stand a chance to be her boyfriend, at least he could be her favorite roommate. With the fantasy of Lucy running through his mind, of her hips swaying down his hallway, casting the sweetest smile over her shoulder as she shut her door for the night, Natsu let sleep overcome him.

The next morning, he woke up surprisingly refreshed. No nightmares, no cold sweats, nothing. All that awaited him were a million grateful texts from Lucy and the sounds of Gray already hard at work fixing up the spare room. Natsu could hear his best friend shuffling boxes down the hall, stopping in the living room, and back again for the next load. Maybe they could use him and his chair like a dolly. At least they’d get done quicker.

The Marine hoisted himself into his wheelchair, not bothering to change out of his standard-issue sweatpants and tanktop. He immediately rolled out into the hall and over to the doorframe in order to watch Gray work. Surprisingly there wasn’t much left to do. The furniture from when they moved in was again visible instead of being buried under duty bags and old boxes. There was a metal bookcase in the back corner that Natsu knew Lucy would appreciate, a full bed situated in the middle of the back wall beneath a large uncovered window that opened up to their spacious (and rarely occupied) backyard. The matching dresser was covered in an inch-thick layer of dust but was beautiful nonetheless. Gunny had made them himself but they’d never really been used by the boys. Gray had his own furniture from before he moved in and Natsu had to replace all his with medical grade equipment after his accident. The only time the pinket remembered the room being used at all was when his sister Wendy had come to visit shortly after he had returned home.

“Nice of you to join me, Asshole,” Gray muttered as he stripped away his t-shirt and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow. He threw a semi-empty box over by the door right next to Natsu’s feet. “We gotta start going through this bullshit. She has to move in before the First, right?”

Natsu grinned devilishly as he leaned over, grabbed the box, and dropped it in his lap. He didn’t even want to fight Gray about the teasing, reveling in the normalcy of it all. Most people would have taken offense to being called something derogatory but to Natsu and Gray, it was nothing more than pet names between brothers. Over the past couple months, as Natsu grew stronger, Gray acted more normal by the day. At first, it started off with small things like not doing every little thing for him and eventually grew to include the hurling of casual insults. If he was being honest, Natsu had to admit that it raised his spirits a bit, but not nearly as much as the prospect of Lucy moving in with them.

Looking down into his lap, he noticed the cardboard box contained the remnants of his Service days. Pictures of his teams, medals and commendations, the works. Before he knew it, another box was being added on top of the first, almost completely obstructing his sight in all directions. “Yup, she’ll have to start moving in here in about two weeks,” he replied as he carefully rolled back to his room and dropped the mementos in the corner. Natsu brushed off the dust off his sweats before heading back to the other room. “You sure you’re okay shacking up with a girl?”

Gray hopped up and sat on top of the dresser, leaning back against the wall. “Nah, it’s just a year right?” he scoffed while staring up at the white popcorn ceiling. “And having a chick around might not be such a bad thing. This place could use a serious ‘feminine touch’.” Both Marines laughed at the slight truth in Gray’s statement before he jumped down and made his way to his bedroom next door. He quickly headed for the shower, managing to lose his basketball shorts somewhere between the two, and left Natsu alone to take in the sight of the now empty room. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to imagine what Lucy’s room might look like. The empty beige walls were suddenly covered in all sorts of photos, the bed draped with her favorite starry quilt. She would probably need some kind of desk for her writing, but he still had his that was hardly ever used. The twinkling sounds of his cell phone ringing dragged the veteran out of his daydreaming and forced him back into the real world.

Wheeling into his room, Natsu groaned when he found his former teammate calling. A picture of the orange-maned, playboy wiggled over the screen before Natsu actually forced himself to pick up, mainly just to make it stop. “Yo, Leo, what’s up Brother?” he murmured, trying to sound asleep. One could only hope he’d be spared if Loke thought he’d interrupted something.

“Salamander, tonight the boys and I are going out since the Dragon Twins are back from their last Tour,” the other Marine slurred as if he’d already started ‘celebrating’. “Grab the Ice Princess and meet us at this bar downtown called Fairy Tail. No one has seen your ugly ass in ages.”

Natsu feigned amusement. “I��ll relay the message, but you guys can make complete fools of yourselves without me thanks.” While he knew he probably should go, mostly because of Gildarts’ relentless nagging in the back of his mind, that didn’t mean he necessarily wanted to go. Seeing the boys would be great if they didn’t want to go somewhere like a downtown hotspot. It’s not like they were the most handicapable places in the world.

Loke’s whining made Natsu yank the phone off his ear. “Come on man, I’m being serious.” A small huff came through the line after silence had fallen between the two brothers-in-arms. “At least think about it? Everyone would really like to see you, Boss.”

Eventually Natsu conceded to the augmented request. “I make no promises.” And that was that. Rushed goodbyes left the pinket alone once more to wallow in his thoughts.

Could it really be so bad?

Hours later, once night had fallen over Magnolia, Gray and Natsu trudged their way up to the line waiting outside the newest hub for local nightlife. After some heated debates and multiple decision changes, the two ultimately dressed and headed out to meet their Squad mates. The group of Marines wasn’t exactly difficult to spot, the four of them sticking out like well-postured thumbs. Natsu immediately made out Loke and the ‘twins’ better known as Sting and Rogue. The two riflemen had grown up together, enlisted together, and served together, earning them the familial title. Gajeel held up the rear, grinning menacingly as the two joined the group. They all shared their raucous pleasantries before they were finally admitted to the club.

At least the monstrosity had one benefit. Due to Natsu’s wheelchair, the staff of Fairy Tail bumped them up to first class so that the group could have access to the booths. There was a ramp up onto the raised platform hidden on the side of the main room and the six of them quickly found their way to their table.

“First round is on me, boys!” Loke exclaimed, trying to be heard clearly over the booming music. And before anyone could stop him, the redhead was weaving through the crowds to get to the bar. The rest of them settled down and began catching up, sharing the highlights of what had happened in the past year and a half. When Loke returned, not only was he carrying a tray full of glasses and a bottle of firewhiskey, he was also smirking in his trademark fashion.

“Check out the pack of babes by the bar,” he instructed as he directed their attention to the bar. Each of them craned their necks in order to get a glance at whoever Loke was talking about. It didn’t take their trained eyes long to find their targets and Natsu felt as if his heart was going to beat out of his chest. Luckily he didn’t have to say anything. Gray did that for him.

“Hey Natsu! Isn’t that Lucy?!” he mocked, wryly sipping his whiskey. She was surrounded by other girls, a couple he recognized from photos she had shown him. Queue the casual ribbing.

Sting, the blonder half of the Twins, soon broke up the teasing as he announced his intentions. “Well, if you guys wanna circle jerk all night, be my guest. I’m going to get to know those girls over there.” His sights turned on Natsu before he downed the rest of his drink. “Wanna introduce me to the hot one?”

Natsu’s world turned red. Unfortunately, he didn’t get the chance to react before Sting was already cutting through the crowd. He sat faithfully and watched as his comrade infiltrated the group, never once gesturing back to the other Marines. However, the longer he made himself watch, the sicker he became. The last thing he saw before finishing off his own drink and excusing himself from his brothers was Sting closing the gap and running his fingers through the very strands of gold that had been haunting Natsu’s dreams for weeks.

Hey y'all! Hope you enjoyed this one. It's a bit of a filler chapter but trust me, you're going to like where this is going. Thank you all for wishing me well these past couple weeks. Thankfully I'm feeling better (mostly) but the stress from normal life is no bueno. I'm thankful I get to come and write here, and that y'all are coming along on the ride with me. :)

#nalu fanfic #nalu fic #ftfanfics #a war fought at home #;awfah

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literateape · 6 years

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I Wouldn't Give a Shit if Mark Died

By J. L. Thurston

Hi. I’m Bob. Mark was my big brother, and I distinctly remember realizing one day that I wouldn’t give a shit if Mark died.

That may come across as harsh or whatever. But he’s my only brother in the whole world and I found that his death wouldn’t be all that sad. I realized this the day I was told he was about to croak. I had gone to visit him. He was in a pretty bad way.

In order of birth, it goes Mark, then Leslie, then me. Bob. The youngest. Between me and Mark are seven years. As the youngest, I always got a lot of attention, but Mark acted like the whole world revolved around me and left him in the dust. That is so not true. He always got the most attention. Mark was born with problems. When he was a baby, he constantly stopped breathing. At age three, he had some kind of cancerous tumor they had to remove. And worst of all, he had cerebral palsy.

If you don’t know what that is, you’re lucky. It’s a condition of the brain that kids get born with. There’s varying degrees of it. Some kids have to be stuck in wheelchairs, some can’t even talk or do much at all for themselves. Some are just about as normal as you or me.

Mark was kind of in the middle of good and bad. He was always small, always sickly, and slow in the head. Not like to where you have to baby talk him, but slow enough that he couldn’t figure out concepts like taxes or Algebra. He couldn’t ever spell for shit, either.

He had big dreams. He’d tell me he was going to be an NBA player, and no one could tell him otherwise. No one ever helped him in the right way, either. They put him on the basketball team in school — regular school — and let him play when the team was ahead. Other schools kinda knew him, or at least they knew enough to be kind. They let him double-dribble, they let him take his sweet time to shoot. He had decent upper body strength and could make a basket from time to time. He had this deep, throaty giggle that always kind of rumbled out of him in times of high stress. So, there’d be Mark, stumbling and dribbling and shooting, all the while giggling loud enough to echo in the crowded gym.

Everyone cheered like adoring fans when he was on the court. Like it was some great thing he was doing. It filled his head with false ideas. He saw himself as big and bad when he was really four-foot-ten and floated between ninety and one hundred pounds. I never thought that was good for him. It made him an even bossier big brother.

My parents never gave him slack, either. They never talked down to him, never felt sorry for him. Whenever he’d stumble and fall, they’d try to make light of it, they’d make him pick himself up every time. He’d cry, he’d whine, he’d stay down, hoping for a sympathetic helping hand, but my parents thought that if they helped him then he’d be too reliant on other people’s strengths. They wanted him to be a successful adult. They wanted him to be able to live on his own, if he wanted. They wanted him to know how to care for himself, to pay bills, to hold a job, to be able to get himself out of sticky situations.

Mark hated that. He loved the attention, the sympathy, the poor Marks.

The type of people who gave him the most love, the most sympathy, and the most fun were the kind of people you didn’t invite inside your home. The town druggies made Mark feel cool and he fell in line with them. His mind was very moldable, he was very easy to manipulate. Mark gave the kids his lunch money for weed and then threw the weed away because he didn’t know how to smoke it.

I remember when he got caught with other kids’ cigarettes in his bookbag three days in a row, giggling the whole time Mom yelled because that’s what he always did under pressure.

I went away on a camping trip with some other guys and when I came back, Mark was gone. He’d done the unthinkable. Him and his pothead friends called the cops on my parents. He claimed they had been beating him his whole life. That they’d take him to the laundry room and abuse him.

Being as pathetic-looking as he was, we were terrified what authorities would do. My sister and I were fairly young. Would DCFS take us away? Would my parents be able to show their faces anywhere ever again?

Luckily, nothing ever came of it. I think my parents were respected enough that when they claimed their innocence the authorities believed them. Also, there was not a scrap of evidence to support Mark’s claims.

Let me tell you, the hissing behind our backs went on for years. My parents never forgave Mark, and Mark never came home. He was reduced to couch-surfing at all his druggie friends’ houses until he finished school. Then he moved in with a dealer and stayed with him for over a decade. The drama never ceased and the rare times I talked to Mark just involved me hearing his stories of getting away with drug busts, domestic disputes between his roommate and the various women. Just trashy shit.

Ultimately his roommate went to prison for selling heroin to an undercover cop. Mark called me a lot after that, yes he did. Bob, I need a ride, or Bob, I need a place to crash. And my favorite, Bob, I need some money.

I remember calling Mark when my wife was pregnant with our first child. I was so proud, my head was swimming, I wanted to tell everyone at once. I told my parents first, then I decided my siblings should be the next to know. This would be the first child to make them an aunt and uncle. On the phone, Mark heard me tell him I was going to be a daddy. He responded with a long list of complaints about the thieves in his apartment building and how he can’t hardly make it down the stairs. Also, he was very concerned that the government wouldn’t pay for him to get a scooter. I hung up on him that day.

So, I stopped answering the phone when Mark called. I deleted the voicemails, I never responded to Facebook messages. I was over him and his dramatic bullshit. Mark was a bad egg. Selfish, stupid, and mixed in with a bad crowd that I didn’t want anywhere near my family.

My cousin knew he was in the ICU and didn’t tell anyone. It was four days after he was admitted that word slipped. Mark went to a hospital complaining of bronchitis. He had many health problems, all of them chronic, and he was on every pain pill known to man. The local hospital saw him as a drug seeker and sent him home with albuterol and instructions to stay in bed. The big city hospital took one look at his X-Rays and intubated him immediately. They said if he would have waited another day he would have died in his sleep.

On top of the double pneumonia, little Mark had some kind of blood infection coursing through his body that caused his bones and muscles to ache. In the four days that he was intubated in the ICU he’d completely lost the ability to walk. When my mother and I visited him in the comprehensive care unit, Mark was bedridden with three tubes in one arm and four in the other. He had a Christmas tree of bags hanging off an IV pump next to him. Any little movement would jack up his heart rate to about one-forty, causing the nurses to panic. He broke down into tears many times.

He didn’t giggle once.

It didn’t look good for Mark, and I left the hospital wondering where my head was at. My big brother, the only one I had, was doing poorly. Maybe this would be the thing that would kill him. When he was a baby, the doctor said he probably wouldn’t make it to his thirties because of all his problems. He was nearly forty.

I thought about what I’d say at his funeral. I know that sounds morbid and kind of sick considering I should have been praying for his recovery, but it’s the truth. My speech would be fairly void of good things to say about him. What good was Mark? He only cared about himself. He never learned from his mistakes. He caused my parents and my sister and me pain and never once apologized for it. He would rather live in moldy shacks with meth-heads than be an independent man.

Did I feel sorry for Mark? Yes, I sure did. He was suffering, and he spent much of his life suffering. He’d been given the short straw. I was lucky that I was the good son, the one who was born normal, the one who never spent a day in a hospital. I had a great job, a wonderful family, I was happy and healthy. All the while my brother was being fed through a straw.

But I felt about him the same way I’d feel about hearing this story about a stranger. I think, Sucks for that guy. Too bad it couldn’t have been better, and then I move on.

He died of a medication error. That’s what the bottom line was. He’d been on so many things. His little body, eighty pounds at that time, couldn’t take it all. He slowly suffocated to death. We found out two days later when my pothead cousin decided to tell my mother.

This is what I said at his funeral. “Hi. I’m Bob. Mark was my big brother. He was seven years older than me. When we were kids, we’d fight all the time. I know it might be hard to imagine Mark being able to fight anyone, seeing how little he was, but he was actually a lot stronger than me in those days. But when we weren’t fighting, we’d go to the pool a lot. Mark was the one who taught me how to do a backstroke. When I was in the fifth grade, I won first place in swim team for it. That was something wonderful Mark did for me.

“Mark showed me how to turn our bunkbeds into a fort. Then we’d listen to music on his bottom bunk. He introduced me to Aerosmith and it is still my favorite band to this day. That was another wonderful thing Mark did for me.

“When Mark was sick in the hospital, he told me that the ghost of his best friend was visiting him. He claimed that every night he saw Carl, and that Carl would tell him to come with him. That he’d take care of him. When Mark told me that, I told him that it was sad Carl died of an overdose, but he was a good guy and a good friend. So, I guess Mark decided to leave with Carl. And, I think that’s kind of wonderful in its own way, too.”

Then I said goodbye to Mark, and we parted ways forever. I once thought that I wouldn’t give a shit if he died but I was wrong. Our relationship was ugly and we never made it right, but it is what it is. He’s still the only big brother I’ll ever have.

#Fiction #Siblings #Cerebral Palsy #Death #Grudges #Illness #Funeral #Chicago Fiction

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theliterateape · 6 years

Text

I Wouldn't Give a Shit if Mark Died

By J. L. Thurston

Hi. I’m Bob. Mark was my big brother, and I distinctly remember realizing one day that I wouldn’t give a shit if Mark died.

Mark hated that. He loved the attention, the sympathy, the poor Marks.

I remember when he got caught with other kids’ cigarettes in his bookbag three days in a row, giggling the whole time Mom yelled because that’s what he always did under pressure.

He didn’t giggle once.

But I felt about him the same way I’d feel about hearing this story about a stranger. I think, Sucks for that guy. Too bad it couldn’t have been better, and then I move on.

#Fiction #Siblings #Cerebral Palsy #Death #Grudges #Illness #Funeral #Chicago Fiction

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jrmcreativewrtng · 6 years

Text

Hope (Script)

Scene 1

Set in early 2000's, New York city, Dan's house. KYRA is laying down the comfy couch while DAN & DAVE are sitting on the tumbledown carpet, Sulley is reading a book called " A Storm of Swords" and all together are watching a movie from the huge crt tv.

Enter: DAVE, KYRA, SULLEY and DAVE

DAVE: (with a big smile and enthusiasm)

… I have an idea.

SULLEY: What?

KYRA: (a little bit annoyed)

… sshhhhh! I am trying to understand the movie.

DAVE: But it's boring! Guys, please, let's go outside.

DAN: (To DAVE)

… true let's go out, I want to eat something.

SULLEY: (Closing his book)

… So? Let's go?

Exit: DAVE, SULLEY & DAN

KYRA: (With the high tone)

… But it's too cold outside, like only 5 degrees.

KYRA: (Looks the closing door)

Exit: KYRA

Scene 2

After one week, in a quiet, small, white room, Sulley is writing something.

SULLEY: Why me?

… Dear diary, my name is Sulley, a 17 years old born black American, raised in Chicago Illinois but suddenly me and my caring mother moved here in New York since the death of my father, my hero, my bestfriend. Now I am a senior high student at Harry S. Truman High school, a public institution in the Bronx where I've met many people and some of them now I consider my friends. Kyra is one of the best examples, she is a sweet girl from India and like my mother she likes to cook, she's outstanding academically and so good with music. Dan, my homie, for me he is like a brother that I never had, we both have a similar story, struggles, tears & growing up with a single parent and as an only child. We both share the love for arcade games like Pac-Man and Donkey Kong. Last but not the least, Dave in contrary, he is the athletic one, he is a basketball player in our school, the joker of the class, the most charismatic and even the most good looking among our group.

SULLEY: (a deep breathe then suddenly closing his book)

*knock knock*

Enter: OLD WOMAN

OLD WOMAN: It's better if you take some rest SULLEY.

Exit: OLD WOMAN

Scene 3

The next day, KYRA, DAN & DAVE are visiting SULLEY, in the room there is a smell of antiseptic, the scent of get well flowers and the sound of people talking in low voices.

SULLEY: (Monologue)

… What am I supposed to do?

What happened?

All I can remember is that it was cold, long ride in central park and then black. I was knocked down by a yellow cab and then brought by the ambulance to the nearest hospital. The stillness of the people, deep silence, the sweat blood and my mother was howling and yelling my name, I was wide awake but not aware of the drastic moment I was going through.

DAN giving a hand shake to SULLEY

DAN: Hey bro, how are you?

KYRA: (sits at the end of the bed) Hope you are all fine SULLEY (with a big smile)

DAVE: (giving the box of donuts and a cup of yogurt) We thought that you will love to eat your favorite snacks

SULLEY: (deep breathe) I am still alive guys, thank you for coming, you have no idea how much happy I am, I don't have no one to talk to.

DAN: (looking into the eyes of SULLEY) That's why friends are for.

DAVE: True.

DAN: (to SULLEY, sarcastically) remember when we were young, and we were talking about dreams, do you still think you will be an astronaut someday?

SULLEY: (with self-assured answer) Easy, of course, I will build a rocket and then put it in my wheelchair if I need to.

Everyone: (laughing)

DAVE: (with the high tone) Guys, there is a snow woman from India.

KYRA: Haha, it is not funny anymore

SULLEY, DAN & DAVE: were giggling for the over and over used joke.

Exit: DAN, DAVE & KYRA

SULLEY: (Monologue, writing in the diary)

… Dear diary I am desperate man, I have been in comatose for one week and today is the 2nd daylight I have been awake, not bad right? Today it was also a beautiful day, it was a sunny outside and because of that I couldn't see myself wasting my time living in this room.

Scene 4

The next day, SULLEY is finally out, fresh air in the colorful streets of New York city with his mom on the way at home.

Enter: MOM and SULLEY

MOM: (with a new smile while pushing the wheelchair) How do you feel son?

SULLEY: (hidden melancholy) Much better mom.

MOM: Sweetypie I have to tell you something

SULLEY: (little bit worried) what is that mom?

MOM: (with no hesitation) I don't think we can afford for you to go at the prom, you know son, I worked for two weeks with a side job and sometimes even with an overtime but it is not enough for all the medical expenses. Can you understand me right, son?

SULLEY: (with the teary eyes) Of course mom, I am sorry.

MOM: You don't need to be sorry son, It is not your fault, here we go, we are finally at home.

Scene 5

Set in the living room, months passed by and SULLEY is sitting on the wheelchair near the big window writing on his diary.

SULLEY: I missed my home, but more badly I miss to be able to move my feet, after a long time I finally realize what it meant to have a spinal cord injury. A world that I never imagined I would be part of at a such a young age. I am constantly torn between wanting to recover and wanting to be self-destructive in any way possible and these thoughts are filling me with fear. I want to be happy but something inside me screams that I do not deserve it. I wish you could hear all the words I am too afraid to say. Why me? This terrible agony. This evening is the prom night and I am here at home doing nothing more than writing what I feel, while my friends are having good time without me. I don't think I will go to college anywhere soon, we are still in debt for all the expenses because of a mistake I made and I am not physically and mentally ready for that.

(Heavy breathe, lights off)

Exit: SULLEY

Scene 6

Day passed by, SULLEY is still on the wheelchair while he is drinking tea.

SULLEY: Dear diary, I am starting to be more used to it, it scks, I know. I miss my dad, I want him to be with me by my side, maybe it will be a little bit less painful.

Suddenly SULLEY saw a light coming from the window upstairs and something changed him.

SULLEY: (he started writing again) Now I know, those words that he always used to say. "Seek for the light, son." Now they have a meaning for me, that I am not alone, I need to think positive because God works through all the situations to fulfil His purpose. And you that are listening this story, always remember that God is always there no matter what the situation is, there is always HOPE.

- Jerome, Micha, Jhona

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