#hatchetswung

although citizens of hatchetfield had their strong opinions about gen's practice, she held it to herself to maintain professionalism. she was a woman with needs and a libido, but her work wasn't set out to prey on those who were vulnerable or asking for her services. no, she could find sexual partners on her own volition and held it to herself to not seek out her own bed partners in her clientele. she may be running what some might consider an unorthodox cult of a practice, but she wasn't going to take advantage of those in need.

for the past two months, she had been working through issues with a client named martin davis. he had come to her seeking refuge after leaving the home shared with his girlfriend. he had been heartbroken upon entry, and with their one-on-one sessions, she had tried to deep dive into his psyche to find healing. healing was going to be the foundation to which she would help him build his confidence back up. martin had been staying in one of the cabins on the lot and had more than earned his keep with his cooking skills. one of genava's top philosophies was that the food we ingest is what drives our spirit. she ate mostly a clean diet, but she was guilty of indulging when her soul called for it. martin was an excellent cook, and she knew from their sessions that cooking was something that helped him find his peace. it seemed to be a mutually beneficial transaction having him help in the large communal kitchen.

part of the work meant that digging into one's psyche wasn't always easy, especially when someone came in need of emotional rehabilitation. she had learned of his relationship, how he had tried everything, to which she had replied that sometimes everything is still not enough for people. she knew it was hard to hear, just like her follow up question. who was she seeing? he had never implied that his ex was cheating on him, but from her collective notes, the signs and suspicions were present. he had poured himself into being the perfect boyfriend and had been met with a brick wall . . . usually that was for a reason. still, she knew it was a question that might have come out harshly and soured within him, so she wanted a chance to speak with him outside of the therapy room.

she had been dressed in workout attire after teaching a pelvic floor strengthening class to a group of women, donning black leggings, a purple tank top, and a cream cardigan over top of it. her curled and highlighted locks were still in yesterday's perfect curls but up in a scrunchied ponytail. she stepped into the kitchen to find martin at the large island preparing something he was planning on cooking, and she greeted @hatchetswung with a soft smile.

" what're you making? " she inquired curiously, a hand lifting to adjust the wire-frame glasses on her face as she leaned over to take a peek into the large steel bowl.

" yo , thrash , " rose ushers over her bandmate with a half-hearted wave of her hand. nose scrunched , she's been rereading the lyrics of this new song -- and if she's being honest , it's making her a little nauseuous. " you've gotta be kidding me with this shit. the best of you ? what are we , a fucking disney channel original movie ? "

@hatchetswung said: cool it. - brenda [ memes ]

Max froze, his lips coming to form a line, as he turned to look at her, "You wanna run that by me again, BRENDA" he said making her name sound longer as he made sure every sound from every letter was enunciated. "Be careful or I'll tell Kyle he still can't ask you out."

@hatchetswung demanded a starter<3

the past few days have felt like a blur. eden walks around, perfectly in control of every step, but they feel like they're watching themself on a tv screen. they watch and wait to see what will happen next but then remember that they're in charge of what happens next. upon this realization, they put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward because they don't know what else to do.

eden taps their foot against the cafe floor, over and over, an anxious rhythm that seems almost aggressive. they don't notice the other patrons nearby looking at them. they probably wouldn't care even if they did. mikey finishes ordering his coffee and sits across from them. they don't look at him right away, preferring instead to stare at their mug. the latte art looks like a leaf. this is the first time eden's spoken face to face with anyone else who was there that night. they'd probably have an even longer silence streak if mikey hadn't reached out and asked them to meet.

❝ so... ❞ they feel their stomach twist into knots for seemingly no reason, but they keep moving. one foot in front of the other. ❝ what did you want to talk about? ❞

things in emma's life were starting to fall into place both slowly and all at once. over the summer, she had graduated from hatchetfield community college with her botany degree, had married the love of her life, and they were now settling on their plot of land in the witchwood. granted, both were still working their respective day jobs, but emma was soon going to start cutting her hours in order to start pursuing perky's as a serious business venture. she had just been accepted for a business loan to start buying her supplies and get herself off the ground, and she had commissioned one of her best friends, ziggs, who took up residency in one of the farmhouse's bedrooms to draw up some designs for the logo. life was good.

the only little hitch in her life was the growing relationship between her brother-in-law and becky barnes. she didn't necessarily dislike becky. okay, she did. she really fucking hated becky, actually. she was so cheery all the damn time, which was the only information she'd divulge. but deep down, becky sliding into the position her sister occupied? no one would ever fill those shoes. jane was the best person to walk the face of this earth, according to emma. her big sister was her hero, and to have someone step in and constantly remind emma that she had tom first? that she had some sort of rite to his family? it soured within her. and tom? his little comments made her constantly on edge. she knew he hated how she pushed jane away. she regretted that enough. but he'd make comments about how much and he and tim needed this or that to make up for the loss of jane, as if she hadn't lost her too. she consistently ranted to ted about how she felt forgotten or felt like she was considered out of obligation.

tonight, she and ted had been invited over for dinner, and it was as tense as you could imagine. emma noticed how memories of jane were slowly starting to be eclipsed by decorations brought in by becky. emma's favorite watercolor of jane's had been replaced with some 'live, laugh, love' bullshit straight from tj maxx. the house was filled with a sickening scent of pumpkin spice from the wax melt becky kept on the kitchen counter, rather than the fresh linen scent that had always lingered in any place jane occupied.

she had nearly choked on the bite of the steak tom had thrown on the grill for them when the next topic of conversation arose:

we've been doing some spring -- err, autumn? cleaning around the house. yeah, we finally did some landscaping out front. got up in the attic and cleaned out a bunch of old boxes -- there were so many nice clothes that were going untouched, so we figured it was better for goodwill than the moths --

CLANK!

emma hadn't meant to drop her fork to her plate, but her hand had trembled enough for it to fall out of her grip. thankfully, she had just swallowed her bite, otherwise she was sure she would have choked.

" you donated jane's things? " she deadpanned, as if she must have been hearing them wrong.

" o - oh, we didn't take everything! there's still a box of old photo albums and -- "

" you donated jane's things, and you didn't ask if i wanted to go through them first? " emma asked, her voice rumbling in the base of her throat like a volcano boiling in preparation to erupt.

" we didn't know . . . "

" you didn't know, so you just assumed that i wouldn't want to look through things? that things might have belonged to our parents in the mix of all of that? you know jane kept most of that because i left for -- " emma cut herself off to release a bitter laugh, giving a slow shake of her head before she cast her burning gaze directly in becky's direction. " were you dropped on your fucking head, or is your head lodged so far up your ass full of sunshine and rainbows that you've become so goddamn ignorant of anyone else but yourself? "

❛ what are you doing here ? i didn't... i didn't call for you. i didn't invoke the names--- why are you here ? what do you want ? ❜

❛ i’m here to tell you every rejection, every disappointment has led you here. to this moment. ❜

she hates how small her voice sounds. how she stumbles over the words as they come out. a natural reaction to a god maybe--- but his reaction taps on that cracking thing in her chest again. another ripple of quiet anger, a tug on an invisible string. she wants him to leave. she wants to clutch her bloodied face in her hands and scream. she wants to remember how to breathe again without feeling this weight on her chest but this isn't about what she wants. it hasn't been in many years and once again that angry thing in her chest bubbles until she's biting her tongue to keep from saying anything brash. remember your place. no, remember your fragility.