moth's wings

You're just like your f a t h e r, buried deep under the water. Your resting on your laurels, is stepping on my toes. Whose side are you on? What side is this anyway? Put down your sword and crown. Come lay with me on the ground. You come b e a t i n g like moth's wings, Spastic and violently. Whipping me into a storm, Shaking me down to the core. But you run away from me and you left me shimmering, Like diamond wedding rings. Spinning dizzily down on the floor.

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brvdley:

“Don’t need to be into pop culture to understand a spider popping his knees to the funky beat,” Bradley informed solemnly, narrowing her eyes a beat later when she realised that she was far drunker than she initially intended. Question immediately having her tensing, she subconsciously wet her lips as her eyes stayed stuck on an ugly clump of plaster on the wall opposite. Questions like those didn’t ever want honest answers, they only wanted excuses. Reasons to dot the i’s and cross the t’s so the paperwork would shift through faster. “Bar fight.” Half true. “Total fucking asshole. Got all aggressive out of nowhere,” she lied, rolling her eyes at the niggling guilt in her brain trying to beg her to return home to herself. Searching for your father in the brunt of someone else’s fist is hardly normal. “Ran off before I could catch a proper glimpse. He had a sprint like an ugly little chipmunk, though, so we all know who the real winner is.”

“Right, but I do need pop-culture to know whomever Nathan Young is, don’t I?” Hattie hummed, pursing her lips as she concentrated on fixing the girl’s forehead. “I get it.” A solum feeling took over the nurse, she could tell someone was lying about abuse from a mile away. After all, she had come up with every excuse in the book back when it was happening to her. You learned quickly how to cover things up and to stop people from inquiring. “Obviously, you’re the real winner here. Gettin’ sewed up like Sally. I’d much rather have a scar on my forehead than sprint like an ugly chipmunk.” Hattie played along, finishing up the sutures before carefully disposing of the materials she had used. “There, now let me write you a scrip for some light pain medicine, and you need to sign some forms and you’ll be out of here, good as new.” 

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pvrknash:

“I mean, I can’t argue with that,” he said, legs kicking gleefully against the metal exam table. Glancing down to the handful of condoms that Hattie placed next to him, he sighed heavily. “I mean, is it really necessary?” he asked, brows raised. “Oh shit… do I have warts?”

A deep sigh escaped her mouth as Parker spoke and an involuntary eye roll was sent his way. “It is really necessary. The last thing we need is an STI outbreak. The mormons would freak.” Hattie rolled up a chair, sitting face to face with the male in front of her. “Parker, you have chlamydia. The clap. Please use condoms if you’re going to have anymore sex. I’m going to have to prescribe you some medicine to fix it. It’s going to hurt to pee for a while, sorry dude.” 

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svlcm:

“Can this not be an argument? I’m too exhausted,” he mumbled, head falling forward for a moment, before he stopped himself from letting it fall to the table. “I’ve tried that rehab shite before, it’s a scam. If I don’t die this way, I’ll get shot or something, so what difference does it make?”

“It...it’s not an argument.” Hattie sighed, shaking her head at her brother across from her. “Rehab isn’t a scam, Salem. It works. So does Methadone, which I told you I can get from the hospital.” Her eyes widened at his comment - “I get it, we’ve been through some shitty and fucked up things, but do you really want to die that bad??” 

[americanfemale]

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brvdley:

“I’d love the morgue, frankly,” Bradley corrected, eyeing the stethoscope that she’d plucked away like a child begrudgingly acknowledging their toy being confiscated. “Finally get a bit of peace. Toss an iPod in there, pull a Nathan Young and watch a spider on the ceiling absolutely pop his fucking knees around to the beat. Living the dream. Or, you know, dying the dream, I guess.” Silently wetting her lips, her chin dipped down by an inch as she looped a fraying thread on her jeans around her middle finger, testing for an ache when the tip glowed red in the wake of cut circulation. “I know the drill. Try not to make me look like Frankenstein or anything.”

“Well, if you want - I can take you to see if after this.” The offer was one that Hattie technically wasn’t allowed to give, but she figured it wouldn’t do any harm to bring this girl down around the morgue - so long she didn’t try to steal anything like she did her stethoscope. “Not quite sure what any of that means, m’fraid I’m not very into the whole pop culture thing.” Hattie shrugged, carefully applying anesthetic to Bradley’s wounds before cleaning them and starting the suture process. “So not that it matters - but how did you get this gnarly cut?” 

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pvrknash:

“Honestly,” he said. “I’m just here to get tested and be on my way. Actually, that parts over. I’m here for results and whatever antibiotics I need this time.”

“By now, we really should just have a drawer of steroid shots ready to go for you, Parker.” Hattie said with an eye roll, slapping a few condoms down next to him. “Use ‘em.” With that, the brunette moved to look at his file, shaking her head. “Well, it’s not great this time, but it’s definitely curable...” 

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svlcm:

At her question, Salem gestured to the track marks that riddled his arm. “Pretty much this,” he said. “You’re looking at it.” The harshness in his tone, though unintentional, had him rolling his eyes at his own “pathetic” behaviour. “Work’s been slow. No real chaos recently.”

“Oh big surprise, our family is fucked up.” Hattie snapped back, her arms now folded across her chest. Though she contemplated continuing her apathetic mood, it was almost impossible for her to carry through. “I thought...you were getting help for that...or at least, were going to.” 

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jeezusbeezusd:

“Just water please, and lots if tissues.” Beezus sat down on the bed, turning to give the lady one more smile before adjusting her tank next to her and setting her hands on her lap. “I can feel my nose getting all clogged up again.” Beezus coughed into the crease of her arm before sniffing. “A whole box of tissues would be better actually.”

“Ah, hello there Bee, didn’t realize it was you love.” The nurse gave a small smile before leaving the room, returning with what she asked. “Now, I realize you hate these questions - know that I hate them too, but I need you to tell me on a scale of 1-10, how bad the CF is today, okay? But after that, I’m going to need you to fill me in about what’s been going on in your life, because I haven’t seen you in a while!” 

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brennanpowell:

Brennan patted down his own pockets in unison with Hattie, making sure he had his keys, phone, wallet. He walked away from his seat feeling comfortable that he had got everything he needed. 

He felt Hattie’s hand on his arm, fully realising the level of drunk she actually was, her weight pulling down on him every so often as she lost her balance. He tensed his arm to provide the strength to keep her stable. She wasn’t heavy by any means. They got outside the front door and he was afraid how the fresh air would affect the girl, he was sure she was atlas 90% alcohol at present. 

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one, replacing the cigarettes into his jeans. He inhaled deeply, feeling the effect of the nicotine pretty much instantly. He exhaled equally as strongly, sending a cloud of smoking hurtling from his lips. 

“How ya feeling? Not going to pass out on me, are we?” He jeered.

“As a nurse, I feel obligated to inform you that every time you smoke you’re increasing your risk of cancer and decreasing your life span.” Hattie’s words were muttled by the cool summer wind, and her grip on the male tightened slightly. 

“Psh, pass out? Please...that’s for amateurs.” Her words didn’t match her actions, and right after she spoke, she tripped, only staying upright because of Brennan. They continued to walk, Hattie struggling, before she began to realize one critical mistake. The keys she was carrying were to rooms in the hospital - not her personal keys. In fact, she didn’t even know where her keys were. She couldn’t call her brother, becuase she couldn’t be bothered with informing him of her growing alcoholism. 

“Uh, Brennan...I actually don’t have my keys to my apartment.” 

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brennanpowell:

Brennan eyed the girl up and down, she was attractive- there was no doubt about that. But also, she was very drunk. If Brennan had learned something about his childhood, it was to not take advantage of people, or put them in an awkward situation. Most of all, he wasn’t going to let a vulnerable girl walk home on her own. “I’ll walk you home- don’t worry. You got everything, phone? keys?” He forced a weak smile, he wasn’t annoyed at the girl, he wanted to make sure she was ok, but he would’ve loved to enjoy a drink. He had a bottle of Cognac back at his apartment, he’d be able to see that off tonight after he’d taken the girl home. 

He finished his drink and slid his glass down the bar, nodding to the bartender on duty as a farewell. “So, you got everything, ready to go?” He added as he stood up from the pleather barstool. 

Patting herself down, Hattie nodded at his question, she was sure that she had all of her things, at least - she thought she did. The nurse took one last look at the bar, a strange, longing feeling over-taking her. Her life was slowly going down hill, and she couldn’t figure out how to fix it. Here was this man - a man she hooked up with once long ago - that was taking her home. It was pathetic. It was mid-afternoon. She was pathetic. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m ready to go.” Her voice was somber, as she took the arm of the boy in front of her. 

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brvdley:

Meeting Hattie’s laugh with an expression drawn painfully cold, Bradley reached out without warning to pluck away her stethoscope, poking the ear pieces in place so that she could rest cool metal on top of her chest. “Just as I suspected, doctor,” she stated in a voice ripped straight out of a 40′s vintage movie belonging to an unseasoned and predictable male lead, “this woman’s tiddy has no heartbeat. Call it.” It was a defence mechanism, more than anything else, the constant lapse into childish comedy in order to avoid having to answer questions. In truth, she would have probably done anything to delay having to delve into the details of the cut on her forehead, one that had already been dabbed around cautiously in preparation for her stitches.

Hattie watched, expressionless, as the girl before her took the stethoscope, and plugged it into her own ears. The nurse was used to antics like this, multitudes of people had aversions to pain, nurses, the doctor, etc. A small, child-like laugh escaped her mouth as the girl spoke, and she shook her head at the girl, carefully taking back her the item the girl had stolen from her. “M’fraid you wouldn’t like the morgue very much, Dr. Rogers, the pathologist, is pretty freaky. Like American Horror Story season two creepy.” She shrugged, pulling out the suture kit and pulling up a seat next to the girl. “Alright, m’gonna give you stitches now...the stiller you sit, the less of a scar there will be.” 

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svlcm:

Glancing in the direction that her eyes had wondered, Salem let out a soft sigh. “I wouldn’t worry about it,” he replied, his voice soft, almost like that of a child that had been caught in the act of covering up an injury because they’d received it playing somewhere they shouldn’t be. “More will just crop up.”

“Wouldn’t worr-” Hattie stopped herself before her voice rose too much. Her hands gripped the edge of the table her voice dropped to a low whisper. “I worry every day - asking me not to is like..l-like asking blood not to be red, Salem.” Her voice was a hiss, but she backed down afterwards, sinking back into the booth seat. “What have you been up to? I hate being out of the loop.” 

[hattiestfu-blog]

“Hi, my name is Hattie and I’m going to be your nurse.” The brunette said with a smile, adjusting her scrubs and stethoscope slightly as she stood in front of her new patient. “Don’t worry, I’m here to help you - sometimes I will probably have to poke and prod you,” a laugh escaped her mouth, interrupting her usual speech, “but you’ll be warned about it....now is their anything I can get you?”  

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svlcm:

“Yeah, don’t mention it,” he mumbled, eyebrows drawn together as he picked at the edge of the menu, mostly to avoid picking at scabs barely healing over in time before he’s disrupting them again. “Is this your roundabout way of asking me if I’ve seen the old man?” he asked, shrugging a shoulder. “Answer’s no. I have not. I’ve been doing a pretty good job of avoiding him, actually.”

Hattie’s eyes followed her brother’s fingers down over to the scabs. A sigh escaped her mouth and she shook her head. She acknowledged the reply about their father with a small grunt, but she didn’t want to continue to talk about it. It was still something that was too painful for her. “You really should let me take care of those -” She insisted, pointing at his scabs, “I didn’t go through years of nursing school for nothing.” 

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brennanpowell:

Brennan couldn’t help but laugh when she called him shameless, the last thing he felt was offended, because he knew that it was true. Shame wasn’t really on the cards for him. What’s the point in caring about what people think of you? He really didn’t care. He couldn’t help but comment though, “so, i can’t remember your name and it makes me shameless, yet, you don’t remember mine either? I’m pretty sure that’s sexism in some form or another- Brennan.” 

He downed the rest of his drink and signalled to the bartender that had taken over from him to pour him another one. The other bloke did so without question. He wasn’t really supposed to get free drinks, but when he pretty much managed the bar, he wasn’t going to let someone tell him he couldn’t drink as much as he wanted to. The other bartender and he got on quite well, so he knew that he wouldn’t receive any objection from him- plus he returned the favour as well. 

“Hattie- it’s cute.” He commented. He took a sip of the freshly prepared drink. too much gomme, he underpowered on the amaretto. His thoughts were always critical when it came to drinks, he knew what he liked and how it was supposed to taste, he couldn’t help it. “well- although that does sound like a marvellous offer, for me to take a drunk girl home- I’d have to be a little more inebriated than I am presently- stay for another drink? on me, of course. then I’ll walk you home.” 

He felt as though this was a compromise, why was it that she was allowed to have all the fun, and leave him in a sober state, something he wanted to be as far away from as possible. 

“It’s definitely some sort of sexism, but hey,” she shrugs her shoulders, dismissing his comment, “who cares?” She watched him down the rest of his drink and get another, and she didn’t like the feeling she was getting from the boy in front of her. Why couldn’t he just take her home? His words left her a bit uneasy, but she thanked him for the compliment none-the-less. 

“I’m not sure...I want someone who also is drunk walking me home.” Hattie commented, attempting to pull her phone out of her pocket. “Another drink? I’m pretty sure you were about to kick me out of the bar I’m so gone.” She slurred, struggling to unlock her phone. 

“Maybe I should just call a cab.” 

[lucybaird]

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svlcm:

“Honestly?” he started, shrugging a shoulder. “Not much. Just saw you here and felt like it’d be weird if I just ignored you.” The admittance came with a sigh as he leaned back in the booth, wetting his lips as he considering carefully what to say next. “I am sorry, by the way. I don’t even remember what I said, but it was probably shite.”

Hattie listened intently, her fingers drumming on the table as she watched her younger brother before her, his apology lightly tugging on her heartstrings. “Thanks, Salem.” With her words, she offered him a soft smile, hugging her cup of tea with her hands. “And it would be weird if you ignored me, glad ya didn’t.” The confession was easy for her - and she was glad to finally not feel so tense with her own brother. “How’s business?”