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scorpionyx9621 · 3 years

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I Hope Hopeless Changes Over Time: A Red Hood and Batman Fic

*Source of the image I found off of Pintrest. I tried to find the original artist but the link on Pintrest led to a dead Tumblr account. If anyone wants to find/point out the account to me so I can give proper credit to the artist please please do.*

I wanted to make a fic based on an ask I did from the lovely @dilfbatman about Jason and Bruce. I hope people enjoy this mini-fic that I've expanded upon.

TW: Blood, Physical Assault, Suicide Ideation, Swearing. Bruce being a shitty father but trying. Jason having demons

3.75K words.

Bruce was uneasy about Jason staying over at the Wayne Mansion. Even with other members of the family around. Jason has done so much wrong and has hurt so many people. However, at the end of the day, Jason still is his son. So when he gets a call from Jason in a hushed voice asking Bruce to stay the night. He hesitated for a second, but acquiesced, Jason was nothing if not independent, so to be asking Bruce outright to stay at the Wayne Manor meant something was wrong.

"Master Jason wouldn't reach out to any of us unless something was gravely wrong, Master Wayne." Alfred had reassured Bruce, who was staring absentmindedly at the glass case which housed Jason's old Robin costume. The costume that Jason had died in. Bruce always tried to repress the memory of holding his son's cold, lifeless body. The pain he felt from losing his parents burned in his heart as an everlasting stab wound. But the pain from losing Jason, his son, it was too much to bare.

"I'd be welcoming to Master Jason, but keep your distance. Master Damian is spending the night at Jon Kent's house, Master Richard is in Blüdhaven, and Master Timothy is with the Teen Titans tonight. I'll rest assured Jason doesn't try anything to harm you. But don't try to encourage a confrontation." Alfred explained. He always seemed to understand Jason to a tee after he came back to life.

"I don't know how you do it Alfred, you can read the boy like a book." Bruce had retorted. Cocking a half-smile to the man who raised him since his parents died.

"Master Wayne, Master Jason wears his heart on his sleeve. He always has. And one of the reasons why you two fight constantly is because, for as terrific as a detective you are, you are horrifically inept in reading the emotions of your children." Alfred had stated, those words bit Bruce. He wasn't expecting such sharp words from Alfred. "We failed Master Jason. And he's hurt, he's been hurt for years because of it. However he keeps choosing to come back and try and trust again. We needn't come at him with accusations of ulterior motives, but we should be supportive." Alfred stated.

"But cognizant of what Jason is capable of." Bruce added back. Jason may need help, but he's still dangerous. He has tried to kill Bruce and the rest of the Robins multiple times. He wants to trust Jason and warm up to him again. But the man who wears the Red Hood and stalks the streets of Gotham killing those he deems criminals is not his son anymore.

Alfred and Bruce greeted Jason as he walked in the large double doors of the Wayne Manor. The first thing Bruce noticed was the dark circles under Jason's eyes. It seemed as if the man hadn't slept in days. Jason was wearing sweatpants and a fitted black wife beater, accentuating his muscles. Jason would have looked more intimidating had his body language not suggested he was as disheveled as he was, physically and mentally.

"Thanks Alfred." Jason had said meekly towards the butler. He took one step into the mansion and looked at Bruce. Bruce noticed as soon as Jason's eyes met his, his tired irises contorted into anger. His lips pursed downwards but Jason chose not to say anything. Instead just walking past Bruce pretending not to acknowledge him.

"Master Jason, you will be staying in the guest suite on the main floor. I've already prepped everything for your arrival. Please make yourself at home." Alfred had said. Jason just shook is head as he headed towards the hallway leading the guest suite. Bruce didn't notice it immediately but the stench Jason had emitted stung in the air. It smelled like stale liqour and body oder. It seems Jason hadn't bathed in days. Bruce had wanted to say something but chose not to.

The evening went by quietly enough. Jason had taken a shower and changed into another fitted wife beater but still sported a tired energy about him. Alfred had put together a beef pot roast for dinner with red potatoes, carrots, onions, and celery over garlic mashed potatoes. A favorite dish of Jason's. The three of them ate quietly as Bruce continued to size up his son. He was conflicted. At one point he saw the man who blew up the head of a Gotham security force member with a torture decide he had created. On the other hand, he saw the boy who would beg for Bruce to buy him more books after he finished the maximum amount a library card would allow for a week in the span of 3 days. The son who told him being Robin gave him magic.

The dinner ended as it began. With awkward silence and the father-son duo eyeing each other. One with cautious trepidation and the other with abject hate. Bruce had decided not to go on patrol tonight as he felt he needed to be at the manor should anything happen while Jason was here. An uneasy sense of dread built over Bruce as he had said good night to Jason as the two passed by each other in the halls. Jason simply spat 'Bitch' at Bruce and walked into the bedroom. Bruce had been bad with other people's emotions, but something didn't sit right with the way Jason was carrying himself. He had decided to stay up tonight regardless. A sense came over him after being sworn at by Jason. A sense he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt as though his son needed help.

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"You're a monster"

"Jason is a murderer"

"Stay away from Jason, he'll kill you."

"No one wants you around, Todd"

"You're just a good guy trying to be bad"

"This is the kid you had to replace me with as Robin? Bruce he's pathetic."

"I can't believe my daughter wasted the Lazarus Pit on a miserable failure like you."

"Maybe I'd be better off dead"

Jason tossed and turned. It's been days. He couldn't get the voices out of his head. Those whispery, moany voices that taunted and tormented him. He knew it was a result of the Lazarus Pit. Ever since Roy died and everyone left him the voices started taunting him again. He tried everything he could to get the voices to stop. He drank, he read, he worked out, he did everything he could. The only way the voices became quiet were when he was beating the ever-loving shit out of some criminals. This was not the mindset Jason had wanted. He wanted to go back to being supported by Bruce, the man who betrayed him. He knew that Bruce was weak. He couldn’t kill the Joker because of his weakness.

Jason got up and walked over to the connecting bathroom to the suite that he was staying in. He went to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. Against his better judgement, Jason looked up to the figure he saw in the mirror. He took note of his jawline, his face, his green eyes, his muscles.. but one thing that caught his eye was the fucking skunk streak of hair at the top of his head. The physical reminder of his dip in the Lazarus Pit. He had just re-dyed the spot not two days ago and it already came back. He did everything he could to try to hide the streak. It’s what he hated most about his new body. The pit wiped away all of the scars he had on his body. And any new fresh scar or wound would just fade in a matter of moments due to the effects of the pit. The only thing that ever stayed was that damned streak.

Jason had nothing but disgust and contempt for the man he saw in the mirror, which, ironically, was himself.

“You’re just using the sarcasm to hide your hatred.”

“It’s your fault that everyone hates you.”

“Killing the sick of the masses to save those who are weak is your calling”

“Those reptiles deserve to die”

“I don’t want to kill unless I don’t have to.. I don’t want people to hate me..” Jason tried reassuring himself. The voices in his head kept getting louder and louder. “I want Bruce and everyone to love me again....” He continued to try to re-assure himself. It was a false sense of hope as always. His mind soon wandered to a moment where he was on top of Dick in a fight. Confronting his older sibling and reciting a quote he had heard from a Japanese philosopher and optimist as he had the barrel of a gun placed against his older brother’s temple.

“Do you know what the most convenient phrase in the world is, Dickie? It’s ‘I’m sorry.’ Anyone who hears that is obligated to forgive, no matter how hurt or angry they might be... There's no more disgusting phrase in all the world. It's used to displace your suffering unto others so you can escape your sins... The moment you employ it, your suffering becomes the other person's. A thing can be unforgivable, but oh, if they apologize... I say there's no reason to accept that suffering. You don't have to forgive them. Cast aside the mask of your conscience.“

“Stop this. Please stop this.” Jason had begged aimlessly into the air. He didn’t want to live like this anymore. He didn’t want to live, period. He just wanted all of this to end. He had caused so much pain and so much suffering to the people of Gotham all so he could attempt to hurt Bruce. But those words kept repeating in his head. He knew he had to stop this. He needed help, he wanted to go to Bruce and explain what was going on but Bruce would just have him institutionalized. His murderer of a son starts hearing voices in his head? A one way ticket to a padded room.

Jason suddenly stared back into the mirror and saw something he detested. The green eyes that stared into his soul. The one he hated more than anything else. Was himself. This thing was staring him in the face mocking him, and he wanted it gone.

“Do it Jason.” the voice had beckoned from the mirror. “Kill them all. Slit Damian’s throat and watch the fucker bleed. Bash Tim’s stupid face into the concrete until there’s nothing but mush. Rip Dick limb from fucking limb. Watch Bruce as you choke the last bit of life from his eyes. I promise all the pain will go away once all of this is done.” the voice sounded almost sweet as it promised to do all of this. Jason just retched as he saw the green eyed monster promising poison to him. He felt his vision fade to black.

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STOP IT. SHUT. UP.

*CRASH*

Bruce had jumped up from the chair he was sitting on in the library, the voice came from the suite that Jason was staying in. Bruce didn’t have time to think. He just ran towards the noise. He threw the door to the suite open and ran to the bathroom. There he saw Jason in front of a heavily cracked mirror. Jason was hyperventilating and he saw blood oozing from Jason’s fist which was pressed against the mirror. Bruce saw from the reflection that Jason had split open the left side of his lip seemingly from a shard of glass. It wasn’t long before Jason glanced up at the imposing shadow in the mirror and noticed Bruce’s presence.

“YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME BRUCE.” Jason had shouted at his reflection. Jason was shaking. Bruce had wanted to assess the injury that Jason gave himself. But he knew he was cornering a scared animal if he pressed any farther forward. Bruce stood their frozen. Pondering between trying to press forward upon a killer, or to check up on his son.

“Jason, I just...” Bruce was cut off by another scream as Jason turned around.

“IF YOU COME ANY CLOSER I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KILL YOU WHERE YOU FUCKING STAND YOU PIECE OF SHIT.” Bruce finally got the cue. The hitch in Jason’s voice. This is the same hitch his voice made when he was a kid and was angry at Bruce. Alfred was right. This is his son. And right now Bruce needed not to be the Batman approaching the Red Hood. He needed to be Bruce, to help his son.

Bruce walked forward to Jason, still shaking as blood oozed from the gashes of glass on his fist. Bruce decided against everything in his gut telling him to stop this criminal. This monster who killed for sport and to prove a point. He needed to help Jason, his son.

Bruce was knocked back by a fist to his chest. Glass imbedded itself into Bruce as he felt the sting of their shards. Jason was right, he was going to hurt Bruce if he approached. Oracle was right, Jason had been abusing venom. The quick gain in muscle mass was proof enough but the stinging pain in Bruce’s chest also proved that hypothesis. Jason barred his teeth as his eyes displayed a seething hatred. Bruce would have been frightened on any other day. Today, Bruce felt a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. Bruce collected himself and got up to approach Jason again.

“I TOLD YOU I’M GOING TO KILL YOU BRUCE. I FUCKING HATE YOUR GUTS. I WANT YOU TO DIE. I WANT ALL OF US TO JUST FUCKING DIE.” Jason screamed even louder this time. A hot stream of tears worked their way down Jason’s cheeks. Bruce no longer saw a rage-induced monster but the boy who took a tire iron to his gut on the streets of Gotham. The boy who would was thrilled at every opportunity he got to show Bruce the A’s on every test he got in school. This was his baby boy who needed his help.

“Jason Peter Todd that’s enough.” Bruce said firmly, but not harshly. Jason stared directly into his eyes. “Jason. I want you to listen to me.”

“Go to hell you motherfucker.” those words which escaped Jason were laced with poison. Bruce didn’t waver.

“You can punch me as much as you want Jason and I’ll deserve all of it.” Bruce came closer to Jason. Jason proceeded to physically make himself smaller. Like a scared animal. Bruce remember what he did to Jason after he had seemingly killed The Penguin. How he beat Jason to within an inch of his life. His heart plummeted to his stomach as he saw Jason cower like a scared dog over his approach.

“What are you going to do Bruce, beat me to a fucking pulp again? You hate me more than you hate the fucking Joker, don’t you?” Jason asked. Bruce truly saw the fear in those green eyes. He had to take a moment and realized just what he was doing. He unclenched his jaw and relaxed his shoulders as he approached Jason. This time he was back within striking range of his son.

“Jason. I failed you. I have been failing you for the past 10 years since your death. I have failed this city and this family in providing the protection it needs. I couldn’t kill The Joker because I’m weak.” Bruce sucked at emotions and emoting. But Bruce hadn’t felt this shaky and wavering since the day he lost Jason. His son needed to know the truth. He deserved to know the truth. “Jason I never hated you. I hated the actions you have taken against the people of this city. But I’ve come to realize that the hatred and contempt I’ve held is because you do what I can’t do.”

“Oh so now you’re coming over to apologize? I don’t owe you shit after what you’ve done to me.” Jason had stated. He may have been acting like a pinned animal. But his mouth will never not cut like knives.

“Jason, when we had fought in the abandoned apartment. And you had the Joker with you. You had tried to shoot me after I had turned away from you.” Bruce said. Inching ever closer to Jason while trying not to be imposing. “In that moment, I threw the batarang because I knew you were going to retaliate against me. But I need you to know in that moment I turned away. I turned away because I decided I wasn’t to be the one to decide the Joker’s fate. He had taken your life and it wasn’t up to me to decide. I want nothing more than for the Joker to pay for the countless lives hes taken and ruined.” Bruce swallowed hard as he felt tears beginning to well in his eyes. “I failed you because I couldn’t kill the Joker. But in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to have my baby boy back. I wanted you back in my life. I still want you back in my life.”

“Bullshit. Fucking BULLSHIT.” Jason spat at Bruce. The emotions were flooding out of his face. Anger, hatred, fear, but most of all sadness. Jason’s voice began wavering as he began to cry. “If you loved me why in the fuck have you never realized I’ve been trying to help the people of Gotham. Instead every time I take matters into my own hands all I meet are your fucking fists. I hate your guts Bruce. We’d all just be better off fucking dead. It’s all Hopeless. I’m hopeless.”

Bruce took a deep breath. He tried to find his resolve. He wanted nothing more than to be able to reach out to his son again. “You’re absolutely right Jason. I’ll bet Gotham would be a whole lot better without me. Without the pain I have caused. And no amount of apologies will fix the pain that I have caused you. No words will ever take back the transgressions I have taken against you.” Bruce was crying this time. “But know this. You always have been my son. And I love you so much. The day I lost my parents was agony. The day I lost you, I felt like I had lost myself I felt I had died a bit inside.” Bruce choked out. “We both have done so much we regret. If I could take back all the times I hit you I would do it in a heartbeat. But no amount of sorry will take back that pain. I shouldn’t be in the position to be asking this. But I just want my son back.” Bruce swallowed. “You have every right to hate me, but I will never stop loving you. You aren’t hopeless and you never have been. You never have been a burden. You are valued by so many people. I. I love you my son. I love you Jason."

Jason’s face relaxed from a position of contempt and hatred and soon was overcome with years of pent up tears. Jason let out a hearty scream as he proceeded to weep and sob. As if a dam had broke and was threatening to engulf a town in an apocalypse. Bruce went against everything he had known and was screaming from the inside of his body and wrapped Jason in a hug. He was almost as large as Bruce himself and barely fit around his arms. But Bruce held his son and hugged him tight. Jason was crying uncontrollably.

“I’m hearing these voices. They’re telling me I’m a monster and a killer and that I should kill all of you.” Jason shouted between sobs. “But I don’t want to. I’m so afraid Bruce. I don’t want to hurt anyone unless I have to.”

“Just breath Jason. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Let it all out.” Bruce had solidified his resolve and worked on being there for Jason. He couldn’t run away this time. His son needed him more than ever. And Gotham be damned. He’s not making this mistake twice. He’s staying here. For Jason.

It felt like hours before Jason had run out of tears and sobs. Jason was fading and seemed like he was about to fall asleep. The shards of glass that were imbedded in his hand seemingly prevented Jason from bleeding out. Bruce had saw Jason’s eyes glaze over as his breathing calmed.

“Jason, I’m going to pick you up and take you to bed.” Bruce had said, asking for permission from his second son. Jason simply nodded as he starred off. He was numb now. The pain seemingly gone for the moment. Bruce lifted Jason up and was taken aback by just how heavy his son was. He truly was 225lbs just like his records showed. This wasn’t the son who hid under the cabinets when Bruce first brought Jason home. But Bruce still saw the boy as his son nonetheless. As Bruce laid Jason on the bed Alfred had approached with a first aid kit. Proceeding to begin to clean up Jason’s hand. Jason was so exhausted he barely felt any of the picking and pulling or the iodine going into his wounds. He kept his eyes fast forward on Bruce.

“Bruce. I. I’m sorry.” Jason had said meekly.

“Don’t apologize Jason.” Bruce had stated. He ran his hand through Jason’s hair, giving a soft massage to his scalp. “You get some sleep now. I don’t think you’ve rested in days.”

Bruce had remembered the time he had read Jason to sleep. This time he had thought back to a poem that struck him from his phone. It was from a famous lyricist and singer. As Bruce pulled up his phone he had found the poem and recited it as Jason fell asleep. Things are far from perfect or even better. But tomorrow was going to be the first day of the rest of his and Jason’s lives.

“They told me once, ‘there's a place where love conquers all’

A city with the streets full of milk and honey

I haven't found it yet, but I'm still searching

All I know is a hopeless place that flows with the blood of my kin

Perhaps hopeless isn't a place

Nothing but a state of mind”

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pHEW GOD THAT WAS LONG. I hope you all enjoyed the fic! This was my first published attempt at angst and whump and while I feel some parts are cringe. I am proud of what I made.

Big thanks again to @dilfbatman for inspiring this fic. The inspiration of the title is the song Hopeless: by Halsey. The quote about I’m Sorry is from the character Shadow Maya Amano from Persona 2: Innocent Sin. And the poem at the end is the first part of the lyrics to the song Good Mourning by Halsey.

#Jason Todd #Red Hood #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Whump #Angst #Hurt/comfort #Non-ship #Bruce being a good father #Jason trying his best #Jason getting the rest he deserves #The two have gone through so much but they can get help #TW Blood #TW Physical abuse #TW Swearing

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breakable-girls-and-boys · 4 years

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Crooked Smile Ch 2

~It makes it somewhat less appealing to be feeling like you're stealing someone else's broken heart~

Holly woke up with a splitting headache. Everything hurt, and she felt like she might be sick. Hobbling her way to the bathroom, she bent over the sink and groaned. She didn’t remember drinking that much at the bar. And then, suddenly, she recalled grabbing a bottle from her cabinet the moment she got home and chugging as much as she could before Rachel ripped it away from her. Holly splashed cold water on her face, dried it with a towel, and then made her way to the kitchen, where the scent of bacon flooded her nostrils.

“Oh good, I was worried you might’ve drank yourself to death,” Rachel commented as she flipped an egg in the skillet.

“I wish I was dead,” Holly mumbled, flopping into a chair at the table.

“Well, maybe this will help.” Rachel set a plate of fried eggs, bacon, and toast with jam in front of her. The smell of the greasy food made her stomach rumble, and Holly quickly dove in, fork first.

Rachel made up her own plate and sat down across from Holly.

“So, when do you go back to work?”

“Tomorrow,” Holly spoke through a mouth full of egg.

“You are so gorgeous when you talk with your mouth full,” Rachel said sarcastically.

Holly took a big bite of her toast and smiled openly. “I know.”

Both women chortled at Holly’s antics. They finished their breakfast in silence, and when they were done, Rachel stood and began to clean up.

“You don’t have to do that.” Holly’s voice was muffled by her arms as she laid her head on the table.

“Well I’m not about to let the dishes sit here and attract all manner of creatures,” Rachel retorted.

“Rachel, I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I’d say you should start with a shower, cuz you got alcohol coming out of your pores,” Rachel teased gently.

“I mean about work. About Gail.”

“Oooh,” Rachel said in understanding as she dried her hands. Hanging up the towel, she turned to face Holly and rested her arms on the table. “You go to work. You do what you always do and just… keep going. It’s gonna suck, that’s for sure. But, I know you. And I know you can make it through this.” Rachel smiled at her friend, even though Holly still had her head buried in her arms.

“Plus, aren’t you like the boss now? Wasn’t that part of the deal? You come back and they give you a promotion? So you can hand off cases you don’t want, right?”

Holly finally looked up.

“Yeah. I suppose so,” Holly said as she attempted to rub the sleep from her eyes. “Ok, I’m gonna go shower. If I’m not done in 30, I’ve died and I need to you begin planning my funeral.”

The sound of Rachel’s chuckles followed Holly as she trudged her way upstairs.

————

“So,” Oliver said, plopping himself down on Gail’s desk. “Holly’s back.”

“Yep,” Gail said, popping the ‘p’.

“Traci told me.” Oliver began fiddling with his fingers. “How ya doin’, darlin’?”

“I’m fine,” Gail said flatly, leaning back in her chair.

Oliver looked her over. He could see right through that icy exterior. She wasn’t fine, but he knew that if Gail Peck didn’t want to talk about it, she wouldn’t.

“Well good, because there’s a homicide over on Euclid. I need you to go over there with Anderson.” Oliver patted Gail on the back before walking away.

There were already multiple squad cars on the scene and the area had been taped off by the time Gail and Frankie pulled up. Both women got out of the car and made their way into the house. They stepped carefully over the blood splattered on the floor and around the broken glass in the entry way and walked to the kitchen. Chloe and Nick turned around at the detectives’ entrance.

“The victim is Richard Donaldson, 57 years old. Shot once in the abdomen. He lived alone,” Nick informed them. “Looks like a possible robbery gone bad. It appears that some items are missing and his wallet was picked clean.”

“Ok, let’s get someone to get a trace out on his credit cards in case the suspect is stupid enough to use them,” Frankie began, “And I want that wallet dusted for prints.”

“Murder weapon?” Gail asked.

“We’re still searching the house, but we haven’t found it yet,” Chloe answered.

“Canvass the neighbors, see if anyone saw something,” Gail ordered.

————

Holly was only about halfway into the autopsy when Gail Peck and a detective she did not know entered her lab.

“So whaddya got for us, doc?” the detective asked.

Holly flashed a tentative smile at Gail before directing her attention to the other woman.

“Well, he died of exsanguination from a single gun shot wound to the left upper quadrant of the abdomen. The bullet pierced the spleen, causing the massive hemorrhage,” Holly said as she pointed to the open cadaver on her table.

The detective stared blankly at Holly, before asking, “What?”

Holly chuckled softly, her mouth forming a lopsided smile.

“He bled out from a single GSW to the stomach,” Holly explained.

“Well, why didn’t you just say that?”

“She did, Frankie,” Gail said. “You’re just an idiot.”

Frankie brushed off the comment and rested her hands on the exam table.

“Did you recover the bullet?” Frankie asked.

“Hands off the table, please. And yes,” Holly said, reaching for a small plastic container and offering it to the detective.

Frankie took the proffered evidence and held it up to the light. A small caliber bullet tumbled around inside the container.

“Thanks,” Frankie said, nodding in Holly’s direction.

Frankie started for the door but stopped short when she realized Gail had not followed her.

Gail stood where she was, watching Holly as she continued to examine the cadaver. Holly could feel Gail’s eyes on her, but attempted to go about her business as if no one else was there. The tension in the room was palpable and Frankie looked back and forth between the two women.

“So, uh, have… how have you been settling in?” Gail asked tentatively, staring down at her clasped hands.

The question startled Holly. She immediately stopped what she was doing and looked up at the woman standing across the table, staring for a beat.

“Uh, good. It’s been good,” Holly mused. “It’s kind of different being in charge, but I’m enjoying it so far.”

“Good, that’s good,” Gail said.

“What about you?” Holly asked. “You’re a detective now?”

“Yeah, just this past year.”

“Hey, Shaw needs us back at the precinct, like now,” Frankie interrupted, no longer willing to suffer the awkward exchange unfolding before her.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Ok,” Gail mumbled as she backed towards the doorway Frankie was standing in.

“I’ll let you know if I find anything else,” Holly offered.

“Thank you,” Gail said, avoiding her eyes.

“It was nice to see you, Gail,” Holly said, looking wistfully at the departing detective. “And nice to meet you, Detective…uh…”

“Anderson, Frankie Anderson.”

Holly flashed a small, lopsided smile at the detectives as they left her lab. When the women had rounded the corner, Holly put her head in her hands. She took a deep, steadying breath, shook her head to clear it, and got back to the work at hand.

————

“What the hell was that?” Frankie demanded as she and Gail exited the morgue.

“What was what?”

“That painfully awkward, tension-filled excuse for a conversation you just had with the mortician?”

“She’s a forensic pathologist,” Gail said as she climbed into the driver’s seat of the car.

“So does this nerd have a name?” Frankie asked, buckling herself into the passenger seat.

Gail threw the car into drive and peeled out of the parking lot. Her eyes didn’t leave the road as she spoke.

“Her name is Holly Stewart.”

“Well she is fucking hot,” Frankie mused appreciatively.

“She’s not a piece of meat, Frankie,” Gail snapped, her knuckles turned white as her grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Is she like your side piece, or something?”

“What?” Gail asked incredulously. She hit the brakes a little too roughly and the car came to a rather abrupt stop at the stop sign. Gail turned to look at her partner.

“You’re awfully defensive, so I just assumed it’s because you’re tapping that,” Frankie said, shrugging her shoulders.

“I am not! I-I, where would you- what do you- I-” Gail took a steadying breath and continued on down the road. “She and I… we, uh, we dated a couple years ago.”

“And?”

“And what? That’s it.”

“That is not all, you liar,” Frankie said. “You would not be this riled up over someone you dated ‘a couple years ago’.”

Gail’s jaw clenched and she tightened her grip on the wheel, but she continued to stare straight ahead. After about a minute or two, Gail broke the silence.

“She left me,” Gail whispered so soft Frankie almost didn’t catch it. But Gail continued, and Frankie knew it was best to just let her get it all out. “She took a job in San Francisco. You know she asked me to come with her?” Gail glanced at Frankie, Frankie shook her head ‘no’. Gail continued, “We had just gotten back together after I was an idiot, and things were great. And then she dropped that on me. And I couldn’t tell her not to go, it was the opportunity of a lifetime. But I couldn’t just leave my life here. And on top of that, I was trying to adopt Sofie, and, well you know how that panned out.” Gail’s sentence trailed off.

“Did you guys try long distance?” Frankie asked softly, scared of startling Gail into silence.

“Frankie, I’m not even good at regular, close-distance relationships.”

“True, very true.” Frankie nodded in understanding.

The rest of the drive back to the 15th precinct was spent in silence.

————

Gail set her bag down by the front door of the apartment. The smell of garlic and onions filled her nose. She removed her jacket and hanged it on the coat rack before making her way to the kitchen. Sarah was standing at the counter, chopping some vegetables. She walked up quietly behind her fiancée and wrapped her arms around Sarah’s waist, pulling the woman gently back into herself. Gail tenderly trailed kisses down Sarah’s cheek and neck. Sarah stopped what she was doing and raised a hand up to cup Gail’s face.

“Hi,” she giggled.

“Mmm, something smells good,” Gail said.

“I’m making pasta.”

Gail pulled away from Sarah and grabbed the spoon from the pan on the stove. She scooped out a noodle and some sauce and quickly blew on it and shoved it in her mouth before Sarah could protest.

“Gail!” She exclaimed, smacking her gently on the arm with a potholder. “Get out of my kitchen!” She continued to swing at Gail.

Gail giggled as she defended herself from the onslaught with the potholder. She was able to catch Sarah’s arms and pin her against the counter, both women laughing as she did so. Gail caught her fiancée’s lips in a tender kiss. She released Sarah’s arms and moved her own hands to Sarah’s waist. Slowly, she moved her hands up and under Sarah’s shirt, caressing the soft skin at her hips. Sarah swatted her hands away gently.

“Go get settled. I’ll call you when dinner is ready,” Sarah said, ending her sentence with a quick kiss.

Gail shrugged out of her button up shirt and sighed in relief as she removed the cage of her bra and slipped her well-worn academy shirt over her head. She shimmied out of her slacks and slipped on her sweatpants. Then she made her way back out to the kitchen to set the table.

————

“So how was work today?” Sarah asked around a bite of pasta.

“Uh, it was ok,” Gail said. “Frankie and I are working a new case.” “Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s early and we don’t have much evidence to go on just yet.” Gail took a large bite of her dinner.

“Is everything ok?” Sarah asked, looking up at the woman sitting across the table from her.

Gail stopped chewing and looked up at her fiancée.

“What?”

“Is everything ok? It’s just, you’ve been kind of… off, the past few days. Did something happen at work?”

Gail searched the eyes of the woman sitting in front of her. All she found was love and concern staring back at her.

“I’m fine,” Gail said. Sarah shot her a look of disbelief. “Really, I am. It’s just been a little stressful lately with the new rookies and what not.” She was only half lying, the rookies this year have been awful.

They rounded out their night watching a movie on the couch. Gail hadn’t paid much attention, but made an effort to laugh when Sarah did. Her mind was too preoccupied with rerunning the interaction between Holly and herself in the lab today.

When she had finished brushing her teeth and turned out the lights, Gail crawled into bed next to Sarah. She turned and snuggled into Gail’s chest.

“Goodnight, baby,” she whispered. “I love you.”

Gail exhaled slowly before whispering,”I love you too.”

#gail peck #holly stewart #gail x holly #golly #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #my fic #rookie blue #crooked smile

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genericfandomname344 · 4 years

Text

Kintsugi of the Heart (Steven Universe)

Chapter 1: Steph

Next Chapter: Here

Summary: Kintsugi - Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold.

Or:

Steven shattered Jasper in a fit of rage. He tries to fix the only person he thinks he needs to, himself, by traveling into a different timeline and taking his younger self away to try and repair the damage inflicted upon him in his childhood. Only now his younger self is placed in the guardianship of someone else unstable and losing himself by each passing day.

Author Note:

Please do not read this story if you are a minor, the relationship depicted is not only toxic, but dangerous. This story is not based in reality and if you ever feel like you are in a relationship similar to the one in this story, platonic or romantic, please find help out of that situation.

...

It was a sunny day in Beach City.

It was always a sunny day in Beach City, it rarely rained or snowed. It stayed hot most of the year, and like most of the year, he had been left on his own for about two days now. Pearl, Garnet, and Amethyst had to go do Gem Stuff, and Greg had to do actual work at the car shop. There is a mudding truck event nearby and some of the drivers swear by Greg’s handy work at car hygiene. He thought of going to help his father- but on days where he was loaded with mud-covered trucks, he seemed to only distract his father.

He had spent most of the morning playing his console games, reading comics, watching movies and playing with his toys- but after spending the better of a couple of days doing these things, he felt that he couldn’t spend another moment in the house alone. Without many options, he had tried to dial up Connie, but the house phone wouldn’t answer.

He hung up the phone, flopping on the couch with an exasperated sigh. He allowed the phone to slip off the couch as he stared at the ceiling with a pout. It was only the afternoon, how could he already be out of things to do? He stared at his feet above him, resting on the wall by the couch as he laid there on his back, just vegetating for the time being.

He hasn’t tried to go to town at all today.

That perked his interest, as he sat up from the couch, lifted up by his elbows. Surely one of the townsfolk would have time for Steven and his antics. He slid off the cushion of the couch with a new plan of action. It took him a moment, but he got off from the couch, grabbing the phone to place it back on the landline hook.

He placed the phone back on the hook and left towards his room to get ready for the day. Wiggling up his jeans, he got on flip flops, ran a wide-tooth comb through his curls, and grabbed his burger bag. He was equipped for his visit to town!

His first trip was the Donut Shop, with the few dollars he had left, he got himself lunch of a few donuts and after fifteen minutes of talking with Sadie, she left for her break and Lars was less enjoyable for chit chat for a longer period. He found himself out after a bit of back and forth with the more grumpy employee.

Peedee had work, and most of the other townies he was hoping for a visit from were either busy, working, or out of town. Even the popular kids had taken a road trip to the city. He wasn’t exactly sure where Onion was- and he was still banned from the amusement park and arcade for something he vaguely remembers.

Feeling defeat, he returned home, slouched over with his paper bag dragging behind him. He descended the long stairs, feeling bored already. Maybe there’s a rerun of Crying Breakfast Friends, he could take a nap- and hopefully, the gems will be back.

He stepped onto the porch, lost in his running thoughts before he caught a glimpse inside the beach house and, for a moment, was stunned by the sight past the mesh doors and clear windows.

A form, unable to be recognized yet was lazing over the sofa, relaxed with their legs crossed. He couldn’t stop the grin that spread over his face. The gems had to be home, and he knew that must’ve been Amethyst on the couch! He raced inside, almost dropping the donuts as he shouted his welcome.

“Guys! I’m so ha…” His mind drew a blank at the sight before him. He found himself frozen as he stood before a stranger in his home, scrolling through a phone he didn’t know the model of. The teenager had relaxed in his home as if he was on his own. Steven couldn’t find the words, standing aimless at the front door- sent into shock from a stranger.

Maybe it wasn’t the fact there was a stranger.

Maybe it was because the stranger was a fluorescent hot pink, buff like an action movie with an amazing looking pompadour hairstyle to boot. His chin had some unshaven scruff of a beard, and his clothes were worn and torn- but his black had the same star as his.

The stranger only looked up when the screen door shut behind him, Steven was far too in a daze with the sudden events to hold the knob or notice the door shutting. He turned sharply at the sound, wincing as he heard a simple hum come from the man on the couch, turning his attention over his shoulder to gawk at the teenager.

“Oh! You’re here,” The glowing pink male before him laughs, standing up as he dusted himself off. He pocketed his phone, leaning on one leg in his stance as he casually crossed his arms. He acted as a friendly guest rather than a home invader. “I was kinda worried, don’t want to meet the gems before you.”

“Who.. are you?”

“Oh!.. uh.” The man seemed uncomfortable with the question. “I’m, well…” The man placed his hand on his hip, using his free hand to scratch the back of his neck in a sudden nervous fit. Steven turned fully to the man, awaiting the answer. He looked familiar to his dad- if his dad was buff and young. The man was tall, Steven could tell the stranger could tower over him greatly even if he was at the entrance door- and the man was still standing by the couch.

He didn’t want to get close, as the man released a few more clumsy chuckles before he finally answered.

“It’s kinda complicated- but I’m your brother, from another timeline.” He gracelessly began to make finger gun gestures in the direction of the younger with both arms. “It’s like the hourglass- but no one dies..” Quickly adding the last bit, he was smiling sheepishly at the hopes of the child’s reaction, there was a pause in time, and the sweat on the brow on the man was growing thicker.

“Whoa.. like, that Dogcopter movie, where his alternate timeline’s owner comes to help him save the world from Cattruck?” Steven grinned, fisting his hands in anticipation of the answer. He had taken the half-witted, on the fly answer and believed it.

The room fell in silence, the man rapidly blinking a few times as his brow raised before his face relaxed. A smile formed on his face as he continued. “Yes, exactly like that.” Before he could speak, he was interrupted again.

“Woow!” Steven abandoned the fried dessert’s bag, running up to the man and pulling up his pink shirt to reveal his stomach, “Do you got one- like me?” He flopped his hand onto his stomach, allowing it to jiggle as the other man only shook his head, lifting his tattered shirt to show his own gem.

“‘Course I do.” The other male seemed more confident now, lifting his ripped top to showcase his glimmering gem.

“Woh…” Steven’s eyes turned into stars as he stepped closer to the man, who was more than happy to have his trust. The younger’s fingers brush over the gem before he scrunched as he realized the already flawed logic of the older’s words. “Wait, how could mom give us both a gem?”

“Like I said- it’s complicated. But that’s not important right now.” The mention of their mother seemed to make the other male uncomfortable, something flashed over his features- but it didn’t last long. His cocky smile and demeanor were back within seconds, ready to change the subject. “I came to help you, Steven.”

“Oh?” Steven fidgets with his shirt lightly, looking up to the stranger. “How can you help me? Is there an evil Steven? Are we gonna team up and stop-”

The man took a sharp, loud inhale as if he was gearing up for a speech, successfully making the younger quiet down. His hands interlock at his torso as he began, in a tone of someone reading a script rather than speaking to someone organically. “I came to help you with your powers, I wanna train you.”

“Whhaat!!” The younger boy shrieked, making the other grab lightly at his ear in shock. The boy was excited, shaking his fists lightly as the stars in his eyes only brightened. He grins, unable to even dampen the expression as he lightly bounces on his feet. “Did you train the other me- um, your brother in your dimension?”

“I, uh... I did.” The pink-skinned man nodded quickly, smacking his lips at the question. “And now I’m gonna train you.” He turned from the boy, who followed his shadow like a lost puppy. He returned to where he sat at the couch, plucking a pink jacket that wouldn’t seem to fit someone of his bulk- and pulled out a glass-like box from the pocket.

“Can I go do Gem Stuff after I train? I’ll be a Crystal Gem, then, right?”

“Of course you will… You’re going to help a lot of people.” His voice was soft, but the tone was blank, sober in a way Steven couldn’t read. He simply stood beside the man, who for the first time since he realized he was in the room stopped looking at him.

The man pressed his thumb down on the top of the surface causing a bright light to fill the lid, transforming the box into a flat tile structure that covered to the floor the moment he tossed it. The once solid box became like a thin floor padding with a single half circular orb in the middle of it. He flung the pink jacket over his forearm, taking Steven’s arm and guided him towards it.

Being brought closer, he could see the shine from the polished black, he couldn’t put a finger on what the material was, it was like a plastic steel hybrid. The tile was a large square on the floor, enough room for multiple feet to stand on it.

Steven bent down, looking over the odd new technology. The man released the boy’s arm as he inspected the new gadget. He hasn’t seen anything like that before, no gem tech ever looked sleek and dark like this. He glanced back to the man, the pink teen seemed to always have his eyes directed on him.

The eye contact felt heavy now, as Steven turned his eyes to stare at the blackened flooring.

“What is this?” Steven pokes at it once, the man only offering a shrug.

“It’s a teleportation device. It’ll take us where we need to go to train.” The man stepped onto the newly blacked tile, as soon as he stood on it, a holo touch screen came up from the orb in the middle of the square structure. His fingers went to work, using his fingertips for a scan and soon typing, the chirp made the man hum in approval.

“C’mon Steven, we’re going.” The pink male gave no effort as he lifted Steven from the collar of his shirt, plopping him on his feet upon the tile.

“Wait- how long? I don’t even - what’s your name?” It seemed to finally hit him that he was being whisked away somewhere, with someone he didn’t know. The man’s expression stayed somber, as he kept a firm hand on the younger’s shoulder so he couldn’t step off.

“Call me Steph.”

It was the last thing he said before tapping the holographic screen once as the two disappeared from the living room in a burst of light.

...

This is a very short chapter! I think this is the first time I ever wrote a chapter of any story under a week, it only took a few days, which is crazy? I am a very slow writer, so I loved it! Hopefully I can continue to push chapters like this out!

#Steven Universe #Steven Universe Fanfic #Steven Universe Fanfiction #Steven Universe Future #Stevencest #Older Steven/Younger Steven #Steven Universe/Steven Universe #Kintsugi of the Heart #fanfic #Fanfiction #SUF fanfiction

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dancing-coyote · 6 years

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Get to Know Me: OOC Edition

Tagged by: @nyxythenightmare

Tagging: @ironbite4 @spartanlocke @10-screaming-horse-figurines @scarcity-of-cats @cavalierconvoy @skidblast aaaand... hell, anybody else who wants to play?! Feel free! ILU ALL OKAY

APPEARANCE: · I am below average height or short · I am 5′7″ or taller · I wear glasses · I have at least one tattoo · I have two or more piercings · I have brown or darker hair naturally · I have brown eyes · I have naturally short hair but vary it with braids/wig units · My body is curvy and I’m a proud plus sized person · I have or have had braces · I have 3c/4c curly hair

PERSONALITY: I’m an understanding extrovert · I try to be a positive listener · I enjoy physical challenges · I enjoy mental challenges · I’m a happy, thoughtful introvert · I think carefully before speaking or typing · I try to grow my personality all the time · I prefer small friend groups that don’t overwhelm · I’m a people person · I’m mercurial · I am more likely to be the quiet observer in a large group · Opening up to many people at once is delightful · Crowds in chats or in person frighten me · I prefer at length, complete sentences/Burst text/Emoji

ABILITY: · I can sing very well · I can play at least one instrument - fair/well/extremely well · I’m a strong physical person · I can draw well · I have a good memory - factual/physical/itemized/short term/long term/mathematic · Poetic verse comes easily for me · I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute · Writing comes naturally to me · I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch · I know how to throw a proper 🥊 · I am a good dancer in the artistic sense as well as casual · Math is very easy and reliable for me · I can calm/ease an anxious, frightened, or lonely children very well · I find my greatest sense of strength in words and vocabulary · I am a good swimmer · I love to run for natural talent/relaxation

HOBBIES: I enjoy watching sports live (not televised) · I’ve practised one or more sports semi-seriously in my life · I’m have performed in a musical group semi-seriously at least twice in my life · I have studied new music in the month · I work out at least once a week · I have drawn something in the past month · I love writing · I do or have done martial arts · Reading is a deep passion · I enjoy language study as a hobby · I enjoy puzzles for fun · I practise theatre · I knit, sew, or crochet · I cosplay semi-seriously · I build legos · I paint with oils or watercolours · I am a digital artist · I build models of ships/planes/for games · I sculpt with stone/ceramics/metal/wood · I partake in tabletop/board-gaming (not video)

EXPERIENCES: · I have had over 100/300/lost count kisses by less than three people 😘 · I have had at least twenty different alcoholic beverages of good quality · I have scored the winning goal in a sports game · I have 👀 an entire season of a 📺 show in one sitting · I have been in a 🚕 · I have been in the 🏥 or ER in the past year · I have visited another country briefly · I have been to one of my favorite musicians’ concerts at least twice · I deal with professionally, medically diagnosed chronic illnesses/mental difficulties/learning disabilities/organ failure or weakness · I have had surgery at least once · I have lost two or more organs · I have survived cancer · I have lost a husband/wife/mother/father/ multiple grandparents to cancer · I have travelled the world to at least five countries for more than a month each · I have lost a tooth/cracked one in a fight · I have changed at least two flat tires by myself · I have driven a manual transmission vehicle · I have dialed a working rotary telephone for use · Been excited to hear “you’ve got mail” · Been knocked off the internet when someone called my home · I have used a VHS on a regular basis · I have rented a VHS · I have recorded a show at least twice on a VCR · I have accidentally recorded over my favourite show on VCR accidentally · Owned a pager · Used an 8track or turntable · Used a Floppy Disc · Used a physical card catalog · Called in a song request to a radio station · Won a prize from a radio station · Made your own ice cream manually · Rented a Car · Gone on a road trip for at least three days · Ridden on a boat · Know what Nextel “Push to Talk” is/used it · Waxed a car · Chopped down a tree with an axe/planted some trees · Planted and Maintained a Garden for 3 or more seasons · Performed in two or more plays/musicals · Rescued a cat or dog · Adopted a stray animal · Donated personally to a homeless shelter or volunteered directly · Donated to a homeless stranger directly

MY LIFE: · I have one person that counts as a “best friend” in person for five years or more, unchanging · I live near at least one college or university · My parents are still together · One of my parents is twice or more times divorced · I have at least one sibling · I have lived outside of the United States for at least six years · There is snow right now where I live · I have hung out with a friend in person the past month that does not live in my home · I have at least 15 complete music albums in CD or digital format by different artists in varied genres/languages · I own/rent a/an house/condo/apartment · I go out for dinner/lunch alone or with others at least twice a season · I have spent at least two nights in a hotel for a pleasure trip in the last six months · I ride in an uber or lyft regularly/semi-regularly · I save in a money market account · I have at least three credit cards · I have filled at least two long term career goals · I have travelled outside of my home country for at least six months · I own at least one gun · I am not white either in appearance or culturally · I am Jewish · I am Atheist · I am Muslim · I am Secular

RELATIONSHIPS: · I’m in a relationship · I have been in at least one serious relationship lasting five years or more · I have never been in a relationship · I have asked someone out recently for a serious relationship · I am LGBTQ · I am polyamorous · I have children or would like them · I share a home with my spouse/significant other · I am a (an) identical twin/triplet · I am adopted · I have two or more animals in my home · I am married, or will be soon · I am an aunt/uncle/grandparent

RANDOM 💩: · I have breakdanced · I have danced ballet · I have swing danced with a stranger · I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce · I have dyed my hair and will again · I’m often listening to one song on repeat · I have punched someone in the past week · I have eaten a waffle in the last 24hrs · I have made a new friend in the past year · I have published writing · I love onions and garlic · I am a former smoker · I have owned and used a typewriter · I’m a stunt performer · I’ve ridden a motorcycle for tricks · I have been racially/religiously profiled in an airport · I have climbed a mountain · I have licked a pole with ice and got my tongue stuck · I enjoy soap-making · I skip rocks in ponds for kicks · I have invested in BITCOIN · I collect stamps or coins (kind of - it’s for jewelry-making)

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snails4martianrights-blog · 7 years

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Thailand

^ The late King Bhumibol, whose passing has spawned an odd competition between every kind of establishment as to who can create the largest and goldest shrine to him

So I went to Thailand a couple weeks ago. Thailand is a fun little place in Asia, and it’s got that dirty and wild side that people know about, as well as a lot more. The citizens seem a little tired of tourists, but most of them are still nice. They’ve got Buddhist monks, they’ve got clothes cheaper than dirt, they’ve got bars and parties, they’ve got wild dogs and buffalo-looking creatures wandering around. The taxis and most other businesses seem to take the law as a vague suggestion, and haggling is definitely accepted. You could live in Thailand for ten years on $25, 000 (and decently well). Just because of the slow, leisurely pace of this trip, instead of telling this chronologically, I’ll break this up into areas of interest.

Tuk-Tuk Drivers

A Tuk-tuk is an open taxi, and mostly they seem to operate outside of the law, not that anyone seems to care. Pretty much it looks like someone affixed a small sitting area to the back of a motorcycle and started zooming around, picking up passengers for dirt cheap. It’s a super fun way to get around, and you haven’t really experienced the best of Thailand unless you take one somewhere.

ONE SERIOUS WARNING: Beware taxis, tuk-tuk drivers, and mostly anyone else who speaks really good English and offers to take you to where you want only after you go to his friend’s tailor shop, or bar, or whatever else. Some people here will attempt to trick you into going really far distances and basically extorting you into paying a bunch of money or buying stuff you don’t want or else you’re stranded. I had one douche tell me how much he wanted me to pay in the middle of a tuk-tuk ride, and when I refused because it was a ridiculous sum, he told me I had to pay twice as much and wouldn’t let me get out. He drove wildly into oncoming traffic multiple times, and refused to let me and my friend out. Don’t let suspiciously overly friendly people take advantage. Also, tuk-tuk rides have no set price, so you should give them what you think is fair. This being said, don’t let this turn you off to tuk-tuk rides. Weaving through oncoming traffic while trying to hold on to a plastic woven spiderweb, trying to escape the madman who is also in control of your fate at top speed is part of the experience.

The Streets of Bangkok

Bangkok is so hot that people wake up at around 11 and start opening their stores and restaurants for business around noon. Don’t expect to get anything done if you’re any early riser. The streets in Bangkok have all manner of crazy food and cheap clothes. There are a bunch of people sitting in piles upon piles of cheap wholesale goods, bare feet, just chilling. Some of the side streets have cramped mall-like areas that you can barely walk through because people have so much random stuff to sell. And they pretty much just unload it from a truck on the sidewalk and sit on it all day unless someone wants to buy it.

^ A covered area we walked past with a ton of Buddhas

^ Random street with a waterway going through the area. They have a lot of water cutting through populated areas.

^ Pretty sure this is a spirit house, and as I understand it, these are for tricking evil spirits into think that this is the real house so they won’t enter.

^ Another spirit house, I think, or maybe some kind of shrine?

^ MOAR SPIRIT HOUSES (possibly for sale?)

^Buddhist temple

^ Close up of those cool ass windows

Toilets

Toilets are super weird in Thailand, but maybe that’s just in the city areas. I don’t know, but I do know that many of the ones I encountered said things in multiple languages like “Do not flush toilet paper! Throw it away! This is for the environment.” Often, the toilet paper would be located outside the stall. They also seem to do this thing where they have a full shower head inside the toilet stall. I am not sure what to make of that.

Songkran Water Festival

This was seriously the best time.

^ Street full of people shooting each other with water guns (there’s more of them than it looks like)

I had been eager to come here during this particular time of year because apparently what had started as a demure celebration of sprinkling small amount of water on people’s heads had slowly evolved. It gets to be about 110 degrees by noon on a normal basis, so someone had the great idea to turn this several-day holiday into a national water gun fight.

By the time my friend and I walked down a random side street and were finally ambushed, my friend just looked at the ground in somber acceptance. Four joyful dudes poured a bucket of water on us and then wiped baby powder on our faces- marking us. *horror movie sound effects*

(I, meanwhile, had totally forgotten what was happening so I screamed when water was poured over me. It was awesome.)

After a few days, our hostel had towels on every floor and every person we came in contact with was perpetually soaked. One day, as I was flaunting some bright red underwear beneath my saturated pants, my travel buddy became vengeful. “That’s it,” quoth he, “Tomorrow we buy super soakers.”

Notes about this: If you intend to go during this time of year, bring MANY changes of socks. The participants will also shoot you if you are on a motorcycle or tuk-tuk. It’s SUPERFUN for the first two days but then you might find yourself wishing you had more socks, and sprinting past kindergarteners with tiny bowls of water who pour it ONLY on your feet which would be one thing you’ve been trying to keep dry the whole time. You will also be unprepared at some point and get soaked by an entire street of cheering folks. Some will pour entire buckets of ice cold water on you- or more disturbingly, they will pour very warm water on you. People also do drive-bys from truck beds.

Pattaya

^ The people of Pattaya are also participating in Songkran

We only spent one day here, but I immediately understood why this is a tourist area. There are a lot of water sports like jet skiing, some sort of parachute-gliding over the water, boats. They have bars and parties galore, nice country lanes, nice and very cheap houses mostly owned by expats, cool Buddhist temples, laser tag, elephant rides, crocodile farms, the “Floating Market,” and more. The only down side is that everything is way more expensive here than in Bangkok. I’d recommend a vacation here if one were planning to go to Thailand for a short visit.

^ The Beach in Pattaya

^ Water sports are available on the beach of Pattaya

Aquarium

So there we were, waiting to get into the aquarium in the basement of a mall in Bangkok, when a lady approached us and asked if we wanted to skip the line. It sounded weird, but it turns out there is a deal where you pay a lot more money and you can not only skip the line, but go inside the fish tank.

They took us into an area where you can see over the top of the tank and gave us wet suits to put on. Then they lowered this weird helmet onto us that was basically a reverse fish bowl. We got to walk in the tank with sharks and stuff, but we were also part of the entertainment, it would seem. Everyone outside the tank was watching us and taking pictures, so I got to find out how awkward it is to be a celebrity for four minutes. Just smile and wave, boys.

^ Above the tank, waiting to go in

^ Getting in the tank

^People were behind us watching us watch sharks from behind the glass

^ Us becoming aware that we had an audience

Thai Massages

If you like being in massive amounts of pain, these massages are for you. Thai massages are famous, and I’m sure they do a lot of good for a person’s body, but wow. They get in there deep, and you won’t like it. If you need some serious attention, they’ll give you that. Even a simple pedicure or foot massage will probably hurt quite a bit the first time you go. And probably a few time after that as well. I didn’t really like them because of how painful they were, but personal preference I guess. Mr. Superman (I’ll talk about him later) from our hostel seemed to think they were part of the true Thai experience. I do not have any pictures of my agony.

Food

Thai food is damn good. The noodles, the smoothies, Tom Yam soup, Pad Thai, you’ve got to try it all. Tom Yam is a spicy lemongrass and shrimp type deal, and you need to try it. I always loved that soup, but it’s even better from actual Thailand. The smoothies are great and come in huge variety, and are usually freshly made right then and there. I loved the coconut ones close to the hostel, but I also tried one from a small café that involved dates and papayas.

There is one food that reigns above all the others: The Durian. This fruit is very smooth in texture, and when exposed to air, at first smells faintly of mild onion, and then over time develops the odor of a ripe fermented gym sock. It is banned from most stores and establishments. It is inexplicably popular and looks like this;

^ The spikes are there to warn you.

Obviously I was super excited to see one and hold it. The lady selling them was amused and a man standing behind me in the uncropped picture looked thoroughly disgusted. This fruit divides a nation.

Animals

In addition to these soon-to-be mentioned creatures, I also saw a water buffalo looking thing that I don’t know what it was, and also a bunch of wild dogs. If someone could tell me what the water buffalo thing is, I would be grateful.

Anyways, first we went to a zoo in Bangkok and saw a nearly not fenced in enclosure with a super low concrete wall housing some bears. Naturally we went to go see the bears. He is bathing in this small pond like a hot tub for bears, and you can only see his head. He was pretty close to us but then some douche thought he was into celebrating Songkran and started shooting him with water. He moved. :(

We also went to a tiger park in Pattaya where they raise baby tigers by hand and treat them almost like cats. Large, dangerous cats. You can go inside the cage and pet them, but you can only do what the keepers tell you.

^ Us petting a “small size” tiger

^ “Small size” tigers playing in their pool

^ Lil baby guy that they kept bottle feeding

I also got to ride an elephant and that was cool.

^ This was fun and we got rings made of elephant hair that are super tough and feel like plastic. I wish I’d asked for the elephant’s name, though.

Hostel

The place we stayed was a hostel, which was interesting because we got to see a bunch of interesting other travelers, including this one super weird dude that I called Mr. Superman who spoke enough English to give us some recommendations and walked around naked a lot and had some crazy outfits for his raves that he went to. He wore a superman outfit at one point and coated his hair in blue dye and sparkles, hence the nickname. This place was called “Boxpackers Hostel” and it was clean, had a good hang out area, and they served breakfast. I’d say hostels are good for meeting strange people, or if you really want to save money because they are not expensive. Some people say they are dangerous or weird but I think it depends on which one.

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type2diabetestreatments-blog · 7 years

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Ask D'Mine: Not Enough Onions and Food Tracking to the Rescue

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Ask D'Mine: Not Enough Onions and Food Tracking to the Rescue

Welcome once again to our weekly advice column, Ask D'Mine, where we talk all about navigating life with diabetes. In this edition, our host Wil Dubois (veteran type 1, author and diabetes community educator) takes on questions that may not only bring you to tears, but could also make you want to log some blood sugars! Read on!

Got your own questions? Email us at [email protected]

Joey from New England, type 1, writes: Hey, I was looking over some labs my doc ordered and I saw under the comprehensive metabolic panel the rather oddly named "anion gap." What's that all about?

Wil@Ask D'Mine answers: It's a measure of how many onions you eat. People with a low onion gap are not consuming enough onions. People with a high onion gap are eating too many.

What?

Ohhhhh... A-nion gap. Not O-nion gap. I'm sorry, I misheard you.

Anion gap is the difference between the concentrations of cations and anions in your blood. Huh? Don't worry about it; it tells your doc how acidic your blood is. When it's elevated it may be a marker of anything from diabetic ketoacidosis to drug poisoning to renal failure.

This wide variety of possibilities segues beautifully into my next subject, 'cause anion gap is but one of fourteen different tests that make up the comprehensive metabolic panel, called a CMP in the medical trenches. A CMP tests the levels of junk in your blood. It gives your doc a snapshot of your overall health by showing liver enzymes, markers of kidney function, sodium, potassium, and calcium levels, and more—even our friend glucose!

Because it can pick up on a wide array of health problems, a CMP is part of most annual physicals, especially for those of us who are "chronically ill" with conditions like diabetes. Each value of a CMP is assigned a "reference range" that's considered to be "normal" (but varies from lab to lab, even for the same test) and any value either above or below the reference range deserves a raised eyebrow from one of the white coats.

But, and this is important: Have you seen that TV commercial where the skinny balding doctor (in his white exam coat and stethoscope) is trying to run a jack-hammer and hits a water main? Meanwhile, the burly construction worker is in the drug isle of a big box store trying to choose a med? The tag line is something like "You wouldn't want your doctor trying to do your job, so why are you trying to do his?" There's another version with a lady doc and a violinist, but I think the jack-hammer one is 300% times funnier.

Nothing could be truer about the CMP. Because while any fool with a search engine can look up individual results, the real diagnostic skill is recognizing that if two elements of a CMP are near the top of the reference range, a third is a hair over, and a fourth is near the bottom, it all means something. In short, it's the dance between the elements of the CMP that tell stories, more than the individual results. And developing the literacy necessary to read those stories in a column of numbers is something that takes time, training, and experience. It's not something you can do with Google.

So. Go chop up some onions to treat that onion gap problem, but for God's sake leave anion gap and all the other labs to your doc.

Janet from Maryland, type 3, writes: Help! My 60-year-old type 1 husband is having trouble. His glucose readings are swinging from 38 to 250 multiple times a week! Do you/can you suggest a way to track his food intake? I think it's important to have a food diary just like his insulin log, which he is great at. We can't get in to see the new doc/dietician for another month, so do you think a food diary will help us see the whole picture?

Wil@Ask D'Mine answers: I hear your cry for help and I'm doing my Bay Watch dash to come running to your rescue. I think that a food log is a great idea, because an insulin log by itself is about as about as worthless and a submarine with a screen door. Knowing how many units of insulin you took without knowing what you took it for is pointless, so not only would a food log of some sort be helpful, but will probably be the smoking gun that lets you and your medical team sort out why your hub's blood sugars are doing the funky chicken dance.

But how to log that chicken, and everything else he eats? The first thing that comes to mind is to combine it with the insulin log he's already keeping, if there's room. I mean, he's recording it somehow now, so adding a little more info shouldn't be that of a big deal. Even if he's just logging his insulin in a good ol' fashion blood sugar diary, there will still be room to note something like:

BGL 199

5u Humalog

Chicken, rice, six glasses of wine

Or whatever. His dinner last night might have been different from mine.

Recording the very basics of meals (not precise measurements) is often enough to identify trends. Oh. Look at that. Every time I eat potatoes my blood sugar goes too high. Hmmmmm.... Oh. And look at that over there. Every time I eat just chicken it goes low.

Because what looks like a completely random mess probably isn't. There's almost always a hidden madness behind the crazy numbers. You just gotta find out what it is.

Now some people do go to extremes, weighing and recording the most minute details of every meal. While that's a good exercise in precision carb counting in real-time, it usually results in waaaaaaay too much data for your doc or dietician to review, given the realistic time constraints of the modern office visit.

Of course if you are iPowered with iPad or iPhone, or use any other electronic device on a regular basis, that's always an option for logging your meals, too. Back in the day I used Diabetes Pilot on a Palm and found it helpful and easy. And I'll bet there are a hundred other apps for this purpose by now. Being a bit of a Luddite, I find a pen and a piece of paper the fastest way to record anything—I don't have an iAnything at all—so I'm probably guilty of not being up-to-date on all the electronic options. I'll bet our readers won't be shy in comments about what works for them, however.

So maybe I wasn't all that much help on the whole "how to track" part of your question. But I can tell you what to do next.

No matter how the information is recorded, here're my Three Rules for food logs: 1) Do it in real time. Don't rely on your, or his, recall at the end of the day. Record it as you eat it. 2) Be consistent. Do it all the time. 3) Don't cheat. Cheating on your food log is like cheating at solitaire.

Then after a few days go find the three lowest blood sugars and the three highest. Pull out the meal details and write them on a separate piece of paper. What are the similarities? The differences?

I think you'll find the food log, no matter how you record it, is a powerful tool, and probably just the life preserver you need right now.

This is not a medical advice column. We are PWDs freely and openly sharing the wisdom of our collected experiences — our been-there-done-that knowledge from the trenches. But we are not MDs, RNs, NPs, PAs, CDEs, or partridges in pear trees. Bottom line: we are only a small part of your total prescription. You still need the professional advice, treatment, and care of a licensed medical professional.

Disclaimer: Content created by the Diabetes Mine team. For more details click here.

Disclaimer

This content is created for Diabetes Mine, a consumer health blog focused on the diabetes community. The content is not medically reviewed and doesn't adhere to Healthline's editorial guidelines. For more information about Healthline's partnership with Diabetes Mine, please click here.

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