My favourite thing about reading ofmd fanfic is when the author clearly doesn’t imbibe and like either a character has one (1) drink and is drunk, or a character has several bottles and is still intelligible
been away for a while but now i’m back because i’m drunk and listening to mama mia on repeat while depressed as shit laying on the floor so like if you’d wanna knife fight me in a parking lot i’d let you win
I succeeded in abstaining from alcohol for 5 months ㅠㅠ But I’m craving beer so so badlyㅠㅠ want to drink wine too!!!!!! Just one gulp and a bite of hors d'oeuvre ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ Seriously I think my every day would be so joyousㅠㅠ Should I get a can of beer tomorrow??
Taehyung’s reply
I didn’t drink once while on tour hoot?
(T/N: 안주 (anju) = a snack that accompanies drinks. There isn’t a good English equivalent of the term so “hors d'oeuvre” was used. + “Hoot” is like a boasting “ha!”)
and it tastes like an orange sherbet whipped cream and it’s a fairly easy recipe! We couldn’t get ahold of orange blossom water but it tasted perfectly fine without!
Summary: Logan finally has a chance to confront Virgil and the encounter leaves them both shattered.
Word count: 1763
Note:reading on mobile can remove the paragraphing sometimes. Use desktop site or visit my Ao3 page if it bothers you as much as it bothers me.
____________________
It felt like Logan had only just closed his eyes when his phone alarm went off. He assumed he had slept through the night, but his mind and body were still exhausted from the emotional release of the evening. In a chain reaction, they all slowly woke and began cleaning the area in an exhausted but calm silence. Roman, Patton and E were the first to head out, leaving Logan and Katie to finish the cleaning and prepare the library for the day.
“Looks like Tate will be a little late this morning,” Katie commented after hanging up her phone. “That old car is giving them trouble again.”
With a sigh, she ran a hand through her oily hair and sat up on the desk.
“Go home, Katie.” Logan offered, placing a hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “I can watch the library until Tate arrives. You’ve done more than enough already.”
The rough sleep on the floor hadn’t served Katie well and she gladly accepted Logan’s offer with a hug before leaving.
Hidden from view, Virgil watched Katie lock the backdoor and waited patiently for her to pull away before going to let himself in. His evening on the street had left him cold to his core and the warmth from inside the library was an immediate relief. Wasting no time, he headed straight to the bathroom to clean up; blissfully ignorant of Logan’s presence at the front of the library. It wasn’t until he came out and found a coffee sitting in the kitchen that Virgil realised he wasn’t alone.
“Katie and I cleaned up this morning, Virgil.” Logan’s voice was calm and pleasant, but it immediately put Virgil on edge. ”I didn’t think you were working today.”
“Just last night.” Keeping his head low, Virgil stepped passed Logan to head to his office. “If nothing is needed, I’ll just grab some things and head out.”
Logan watched cautiously, sensing something off about the other but unsure of the best way to approach. Ben’s message came to mind again as he watched Virgil leave his office with a loaded bag and head toward the back door to leave.
“Did I do something wrong?” Virgil stopped but didn’t turn to face Logan. “I know yesterday didn’t go well but-“
“I told you to let it go, Logan.” The harshness in his voice felt wrong, but Virgil wasn’t going to let Logan get caught up in his mess.
“If something is wrong, you can tell me.” Stepping closer cautiously, Logan noticed Virgil’s shoulders growing tense. “I only want to help-“
“I DON’T WANT YOUR FUCKING HELP!”
Logan quickly stepped away, taken aback by the others sudden anger. “You might not want it, but you clearly need it.”
“Oh, would you take the hint, you fucking moron.” Virgil kept his face hidden by his hood when he turned around, words burning his throat as if each were acid leaving his mouth. “I’m not interested in your fucked up, gay ass. I got my free food, now leave me alone.”
The words stung Logan, but he kept his face neutral and firm; heart breaking as his mind cruelly brought an old fear back to the surface. Once silenced, the dark thoughts re-entered his mind with a vengeance.
“For the record, I am not gay.” It felt like Virgil’s heart stopped at Logan’s words. “I prefer to identify as a Panromantic-asexual. If you are going to insult my sexuality, at least do it properly.“
“Whatever,” Virgil turned and headed towards the door again. “Have fun with your dead boyfriend, faggot.”
The air was left sour and heavy with Virgil’s words. Neither man believed the words, but their burn was real enough to have an effect. Virgil carried the last of his belongings away to sell in hopes of spearing everyone from his burden; Logan on the other hand, sat in deathly silence until Tate arrived and mindlessly headed out to get ready for work. The old ghostly fear growing and twisting into a dark shadow, until a soothing voice urged him to return to an old habit.
********************
Nothing but the clothes on his back, Virgil walked the streets with a measly $50 in his pocket. Each step echoed in his ears and he felt disgusted by every breath he took past his cursed lips. Regret and guilt a heavy stone in his gut as Logan’s face and his words echoed in his mind. Staring down at his phone he had the urge to call Logan and tell him everything; his debt and his past, the heavy weight that held him back.
“Virgil Sparks?”
The moment Virgil paused and looked up in response to the voice, he regretted it. The men who climbed out of the black van parked beside him were not comfortingly familiar.
“Get in the van, Virgil.” Ben motioned to Virgil from his position in the back; his expression darkened by bruising to his cheek.
“You said I had till Monday. I haven’t got any-“
“Get in.”
A firm hand gripped Virgil’s forearm and he felt all sense of hope finally fade away before climbing inside. There was no running now. The only way out would be messy no matter which way he looked at it. But then again…it was what he deserved.
******************
Patton was terrified as he ran down the streets towards his home. He had received Katie’s message 5 minutes prior and turned his calming walk into a complete workout.
Kit-Kat: are you okay?
Pit-Pat: fine. Just taking a casual walk home.
Kit-Kat: something has happened. Virgil’s office is completely empty, Logan isn’t answering his phone and his work said he left early to take care of you.
He should have felt bad leaving Katie on ‘read’ but all he could think about was how broken Logan was last night. Even before he had shared Jason’s video, he’d seemed more distant than usual, but Patton had been so caught up in his own feelings he hadn’t even registered it until now. Worry gripped his chest like a vice while his feet beat roughly against pavement. Air rushed uncomfortably into his lungs with every breath until he finally reached the doorstep and shoved the key into the lock.
“Logan!”
Patton spotted his roommates bag and shoes roughly discarded in the entry and raced up the stairs; calling again until he reached Logan’s locked bedroom door.
“Logan? Logan, open the door.” He pulled at the door fruitlessly; the silence from the other side feeding his fear with every unresponsive second. “Logie, please, you’re scaring me.”
Hands shaking, Patton eyed the door lock and remembered the same locks on his childhood doors; his mother could always get in when he was sad by using a butterknife to unlock it from the outside. When Logan didn’t respond again, he raced downstairs and decided this was just the situation to invade his privacy.
The knife fell from Patton’s hands the moment the door unlocked and he rushed into the room. Bottles of spirits were discarded and spilling on the floor; the sight alone made Patton’s blood run ice cold. Logan’s glasses were shattered by the wardrobe with what had probably been a full bottle of alcohol. Worried eyes darted around until her spotted his friend crumpled at the far end of the room by his bed; eyes open but unseeing through a blur of tears. Patton was thankful for his shoes as he crunched into the room and cradled Logan’s head between his hands.
“Be honest with me, Logan, how much did you drink?”
Blinking, Logan’s features contorted as his fogged brain processed Patton’s comforting presence and realisation hit like a tidal wave sending sobs through his body again.
“I-I c-nnn-n-t”
“It’s okay. You’re okay, sweetie.” Pulling him close, Patton took in the intense scent of alcohol that he had not dealt with since the first months of Jason’s passing. “I’ve got you now. It’s okay.”
Though Patton would have loved to simply hold Logan, he knew it wasn’t safe to stay in the room as it was. Carefully pulling back, Patton locked Logan’s eyes and kept his tone level and calm.
“It’s not safe here, Logan. Can you stand for me?” With a small nod, Logan carefully rose to his feet with Patton as support. “Okay. There’s lots of glass around so I need you to just stand here while I grab you some shoes. Can you do that?”
Using the wall for support, Logan released Patton so he could retrieve a pair of slippers from the back of the wardrobe. Gingerly slipping them on, Patton guided Logan to the bathroom and sat him on the toilet lid while he went to fetch clean clothes.
When Patton returned, Logan had his face buried in his hands with fresh sobs shaking his shoulders. The déjà vu hit him hard as he felt himself repeating an old routine of helping Logan shower and dress, before shuffling down the hall to set him up in his bed. No one else knew of Logan’s brief struggle with alcohol after Jason. It was a short-lived but intense battle. Night after night of alcohol fuelled sadness and self-loathing was eventually brought under-control thanks to Patton’s support. Sadly, Patton was now reminded that it was a battle they would apparently have to always be aware of. A lingering shadow in their lives that would remain, even after Logan allowed Patton to coax him into an unsteady sleep.
Katie knocked on the door an hour later and Patton carefully shuffled off the bed; thankful that Logan didn’t stir from the movement.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this from the beginning?” Katie asked sadly, moving the wet-vac away so they could scrub the stained carpet further.
“You were grieving at the time.” Bubbles formed on the carpet as Patton began scrubbing, filling his nose with a scent to drown out the alcohol. “You didn’t need Logan’s added burden and we had it handled. For a while, I guess.”
“Had it handled?”
“He’s not an alcoholic, Katie.” His voice was defensive, hoping not to regret pulling Katie into their secret. “You know Lo. He has one drink and that’s it, but after Jason…he went too far. He’s been fine this whole time. I swear this is the first time since that he’s done this.”
With a solemn nod, Katie went back to scrubbing. She believed Patton; he had no reason to lie.
“Something happened with Virgil, Patton. I’m sure of it.”
“Any idea what?”
“No. But I’m going to find out.”
“Me to.”
____________________
End Note
Released at the end of the week, just like I promised.
Tag List (let me know if you want to be removed. It has been so long I understand if you don’t wanna hang around)
You Promised(oneshot - prinxiety angst/injury/near death)
Sides of a Hero(Completed Fic - sides are fusions of impulses and aspects of Thomas. Virgil has a depressing past that he is forced to face thanks to Deceit and Rage. Was canon compliant at the time of completion)
The Shield to your Sword(WIP - A fantasy/magic au - Prinxiety (Royal Roman and orphan Virgil - they’ll admit to their love eventually), Virgil angst, non binary, healer Logan, *spoiler* Patton)
I’m not sure what I find funnier: the guys being these sweet dumbasses who have been going out with fake ids and getting absolutely wasted since they were like fifteen; or them being sweethearts who are very willing to commit literal felonies to get a gig but also adamantly refuse to drink alcohol because they’re underage and that’s illegal!! >:((((
Wait no I made up my mind, it’s funniest if it’s a combination
Julie asks the guys if they’d ever gotten drunk and Luke immediately goes ‘nah man we were too young to drink’. Only for Reggie to bump Alex’s arm and go ‘oh dude you remember when he was out of town so we went on a bender?’, then Alex just sighs and says ‘yeah that was my first time at a gay bar. I miss drinking’. And Luke looks Scandalised
I’m not sure what I find funnier: the guys being these sweet dumbasses who have been going out with fake ids and getting absolutely wasted since they were like fifteen; or them being sweethearts who are very willing to commit literal felonies to get a gig but also adamantly refuse to drink alcohol because they’re underage and that’s illegal!! >:((((
Reggie loves tagging along on Willie and Alex’s dates, mostly because they’re two of his best friends and their dates are always super vibey, but also because he’s got a secret drinking game. He takes a shot every time Alex gets flustered or Willie says something sweet then runs off, and he’s never failed to get drunk
This is, of course, a RSS story for @brutal-nemesis’s Plant Day 2021.
And please don’t kill me, but I kinda feel like I bent the rules here. The assailant here is not a fungus or protist. It is a part of the plant kingdom, but not like that.Anyway, on to the story part of this.
Trigger Warnings – also tagged: choking, alcohol, knives, blood, surgery
WC: 897
———-
“911, what is your emergency?”
A panicked voice came from the other end of the phone. “My boyfriend is choking and we can’t get it out!”
“Okay. Where are you?”
“Middle of the quad at OakU.”
“Any landmarks nearby?” “Across the street from the ADG house.”
Victor entered the location into his computer and pulled up a map of the OakU campus. “Okay, help is on the way. My name is Victor. And you are?” “Raegan.” “Okay, Raegan. You said that your boyfriend is choking?”
“Yeah,” Raegan said, panic once again rising in her voice.
“And you tried the heimlich?” Victor asked.
“Yeah. It didn’t work. One of my friends tried that and they tried smacking his back. Nothing helped.”
“Okay. What is his name?”
“Hugo.”
“Raegan, put me on speaker.” Victor paused briefly as he waited for Raegan to oblige. “Okay, Hugo, if you can hear me, please give Raegan a thumbs up.”
Hugo barely moved. He was rocking back and forth, his arms slowly reaching at his neck, but his hands made no attempt to show Raegan a thumbs up. His olive skin slowly grew bluer.
On the other end of the phone, a message popped up on Victor’s computer. EMS was on the way, but Raegan and Hugo were not accessible by road. It would be at least 15 minutes until help could arrive.
Victor’s attention was pulled back to the call when Raegan began screaming.
“Victor, he’s not moving anymore! How much longer?”
“Your location is pretty far from any roads, so it’ll be 15-20 minutes. Can you try the heimlich again?” Victor pulled out his phone and texted Kai.
“I know you’re off, but I need help. College age male choking. Heimlich not helping. EMS 15-20 out. I am conferencing you in.”
Kai responded with a thumbs up and Victor entered his number into the console. “Raegan,” Victor said, “this is my friend Kai. He is a paramedic. He is going to help you.”
Kai cleared his throat into the phone. “Raegan, can you tell me exactly what happened?”
Raegan sighed as tears made their way from her eyes to her chin. “I was working on a project for my photography class. It was, uh, humans in nature. We were doing a shoot and Hugo decided he wanted a picture biting an acorn. I got a couple shots and then he tripped over a tree root. He must’ve swallowed the acorn and it got stuck because he can’t breathe and it’s not between his teeth anymore.”
Kai took a deep breath. “I am going to recommend something crazy, but it should save Hugo, alright? I think that you should attempt a field cricothyrotomy.”
“You want me to cut open my boyfriend’s neck?” “Raegan, it will save his life,” Victor said. “Now, before I ask you this, I want to remind you that these calls are recorded, but I do want to help.” He paused. “Does someone over the age of 21 in the ADG house have alcohol, a knife, and a straw?”
“Yeah,” Raegan responded, but it wasn’t entirely true. She always carried a pocket knife and metal straw, and she had filled her water bottle with vodka at a party the night before. Victor didn’t need to know where it came from.
“Raegan, I need you to sterilize everything. Dump the alcohol on your hands, his neck, the knife, and the straw,” Victor commanded.
Raegan carefully poured the alcohol out of her bottle, through the straw, and onto her hands, her knife, and Hugo’s neck. “Done,” she said, putting her phone on speaker and placing next to Hugo’s short, scruffy black hair.
Kai took a breath and began to instruct Raegan. “Raegan, you are going to find the cricothyroid membrane, it is–”
“In that indentation below the Adam’s Apple,” Raegan finished.
“Yes,” Kai said with a slight bit of surprise in his voice.
“You sound surprised,” Raegan responded. “I find that knowing human anatomy is incredibly important to my art.”
“Alright then,” Kai continued, “You are going to make a 1-inch long incision. You are going to drive your knife in until you feel a bit of a pop. That means you are in the trachea.”
Raegan squeezed her eyes shut before busting them open again. She grasped the handle of her pocket knife and slid the blade across her boyfriend’s olive-colored skin. Dark red blood oozed from the opening. At the center of the incision, Raegan pushed down on the knife until she felt something different than the feeling of slicing through fascia and muscle. She slid her finger into the cavity and there certainly was a hole in something. “Done,” she informed Kai and Victor as she pulled her finger out of Hugo’s neck.
“Slip the straw into the hole in the trachea and take a breath into it,” Kai instructed.
Raegan slid her metal straw into the hole that had just held her finger. She wrapped her lips around her purple silicone straw topper. She gently exhaled through the straw. Surprised, she pulled back when she saw Hugo’s chest rise in his green hoodie. “He is breathing!” she exclaimed.
“Good,” Victor said. “Paramedics are about 5 minutes out. I can stay with you until they get there, okay?” “Thank you,” Raegan replied softly. She buried her face into Hugo’s shoulder. Her tears joined the bloodstains on his hoodie.
Chocolate bomb and booze parade all in one glass ; they earnedthis, and they’re probably gonna pass out in like an hour. Whether the sugar or alcohol catches up to them first, you may wanna place your betsnow.
“So what have we learned from this little experiment?” Donnie said with a lifted eyebrow.
“Beer is not my friend,” Cade said. “Maybe I should have gone straight for the Jack Daniels.” At Donnie’s sharp look, he tiredly waved a hand. “Kidding.”
“Dude, don’t even joke about that. Just don’t.”
“Kidding,” Cade repeated. “You know me, I don’t get shitfaced on a regular basis.”
“I’ve seen people try to use alcohol to run away from their problems,” Donnie said. “It never ends well.”
“Is that what you think I was doing? Running away from my problems?”
“More like staggering away, last night. But yeah. You didn’t want to deal with your brain, so you tried to drug it into submission.”
“But it wouldn’t fucking cooperate, of course.” Cade winced and pressed a knuckle between his eyes. “And now it’s taking revenge.”
Donnie sat down on the chair next to the couch. “You can’t run away from what hurts if it’s inside you, dude. You have to deal with it.”
“That’s what I was trying to do. Like taking ibuprofen for a headache. Speaking of which, do you happen to have—”
“But that’s not dealing with it. That’s trying to anesthetize your brain so you don’thave to deal with it.”
“Then why is ibuprofen OK? That’s what I took for my shoulder. And I could really use some—"
“Did you go to the gym and lift right after that?”
“I’m not a complete idiot,” Cade said.
“Of course not; you knew it wasn’t a magic pill. Pain is how your body tells you to be careful until it’s had time to heal.”
“My stupid brain’s had as much time to heal as my shoulder.”
“Maybe it was hurt more. Look, dude, all I’m trying to say is, there’s a reason for pain, whether it’s in your head or your shoulder. If you want to get better, you have to pay attention to what it’s telling you.”
“So what am I supposed to do, wallow in my feelings?”
“You can face them without wallowing. If you hear a tornado siren in the middle of the night, what do you do? You could put in earplugs and go back to sleep. You could bitch about being woken up. Or you could get your ass out of bed and check the radar to see what’s going on. Listen to the goddamn message.”
“I’mlistening.” Cade said. “I’m listening to my brain right now.”
“And what’s it telling you?”
“It’s telling me that I want to think about what you’re saying, but I can’t concentrate on a goddamn thing until the elephants stop tap-dancing on my skull,” he said plaintively.
Donnie leaned back in the chair with a hint of a wicked grin. “Oh. Do you want some ibuprofen? You should have said something earlier.”
Anything and everything that involves witchcraft and alcohol. Please drink legally and responsibly! And please tag this appropriately for those who avoid alcohol.
