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perryhedge · 7 months

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21 Month Japanese Update

If you’re curious you can read my:

3 month update for Japanese

7 months update for Japanese

12 month update for Japanese

1.5 year journey with French (warning: long).

I should collect them all somewhere rather than using Wordpress, Notion and Tumblr, but….

So 21 months is a bit of a strange milestone, but things are kind of coming to a head and I feel like this is as good of a time as any to do an update. Ultimately with French, I didn’t quite make it to my milestones as planned (overshot my reading goal and hit ~90% of my listening goal), but instead cut things short; I ended up spending exactly 21 months before switching to Japanese. Now with Japanese, I feel pretty much ready to move on once again. This wasn’t intentional. Maybe my attention span is 21 months long.

Anyway, here’s a summary of where I’ve come and where I’m going (taking an indefinite hiatus from actively studying Japanese). This may have a bit of a melancholy mood to it, but I guess that’s just kind of where I’m at.

Stats

I kept up my spreadsheet, with two major changes:

I “quit” tracking twice, but I ended up crawling back to my spreadsheet and estimating the time I spent in between. You can see it pretty clearly between October and December 2022 (I covered it in my 12 month update) and it happened again March to April 2023. I’ve gone back and forth on whether tracking is good for me or not. I don’t think there’s as much of a “use” for it, because I don’t really have any goals with Japanese. With French, I had a reason to push to a goal — it was so I could start Japanese. But there’s nothing after Japanese for me. I’m somewhat interested in Spanish, but I don’t think I have it in me to do this a third time, and anyway I’m less passionate about it than I was for French or Japanese. Ultimately, I think I like to see the stats even if I don’t use them for anything, so I keep it around. In the future, it might become useful. And I realized that without the spreadsheet I kind of lose motivation. Without tracking, Japanese goes back to being something that’s a regular part of my life and not something I go out of my way to include in it. That might sound good to most people, aspirational maybe, but not me. I really struggled to reconnect with watching anime for years before learning Japanese gave me the passion to get into it again, and I don’t regret that at all. I’m just a goals-oriented kind of person, and at this point I don’t think I’ll change that.

I decided to forego hitting the bare minimum and take days off when I feel like it. I even skipped SRS multiple times (I’m the guy with the 1000 day Anki streak — which by the way, I finally ended). I would encourage this for most people, but I’m not 100% sure if this is a good thing for me specifically, because I think I’m very susceptible to negative inertia, where consistency tends to be an all-or-nothing thing for me. But it’s kind of helped me adjust to the idea of putting Japanese on the backburner, so it may have been necessary.

Progress

Vocabulary

I think it's worth decoupling this from reading and listening, because it really is the biggest hurdle with Japanese. According to JPDB, I've hit around 9500 known words, at least the ones I've noted in the SRS. This puts me in the 85%-90% known words range for most anime and 80%-85% for most light novels, just for reference. This is pretty clearly in the intermediate phase. Though I've been learning 10 new cards a day, if I put in a couple hours of immersion in I can add far more than that to the SRS, so my backlog has grown quite a bit during my strong motivation boost in August. I expect my backlog to last me until I hit 10k known, and eventually I'll go down to 5 words a day or just however many I find. I initially thought 10k would be a good place to stop using the SRS, but I haven't yet exhausted all the common vocabulary, possibly because of the way JPDB overcounts lemmas, so I'll keep it going for quite a while longer. It's an extremely minimal, <10min/day investment.

Reading

I would say my reading is in a relatively comfortable place for my goals. I use Learn Natively to log things and I’ve noticed that generally, anything in the <25 range (which includes around 80% of manga) I can read without a dictionary and without lookups at a decent speed (depending on the text density of a volume, 1.5-2 hours on average). I can read stuff that’s a little bit more complicated in the realm of manga — I am working my way through Stone Ocean at the moment, and while I can manage it without lookups (I own a couple of the physical volumes and don’t look up words while reading them), a small amount of lookups would definitely go a long way. I read my first “proper” novel 国境の南、太陽の西 comfortably, and light novels around that level (<31, around 90% of light novels) are probably quite comfortable with lookups (my reading speed probably reaches at least 150 moji per minute, or 9,000 per hour, not amazing or anything but fine enough for me — about 8-10 hours of reading per light novel).

However, if I’m being blunt, I still don’t think my reading level is very high for my standards. Light novels tend to be written for a teenage audience, and manga certainly is, on average, less linguistically complex than those. Of course, for a second language, especially one as difficult as Japanese, being able to read at a teenage level is incredible. I don’t want to downplay the amount of work that goes into that; it took me 500 hours just to get to this point. But I also put around that much time into reading in French, and I know how much further I can get — I mean, I’ve read Balzac and Flaubert (with great difficulty). I’ve glimpsed the pinnacle of reading ability, even if it’s hazy. Not so with Japanese — I’d imagine I’m not even halfway there, and probably less if I keep taking the long route. In Japanese, I would be totally lost reading literature, or philosophy, or most nonfiction, and the problem is bigger than just vocab.

I think the best way for me to improve would be intensive reading with progressively more difficult content, with a strong focus on raw text. In my 12 month update I mentioned that I would like to just dive into literature. However, I have to admit that I’ve pretty much given up on that for the time being; I’ve failed to get into Japanese literature (admittedly, haven’t really tried — but that’s the problem, isn’t it?) and really disliked the Murakami novel I finished; and in general, when I feel like reading something it’s usually in English or French. Of course, there’s a problem here where I don’t even know what I don’t know. There are plenty of European authors that are well-regarded in the anglosphere, because translated works are popular. That’s not as much the case with Japanese literature, though there certainly are exceptions like Ishiguro, Murakami, Banana Yoshimoto, etc (and I’m generally not a fan of them stylistically). . I’ve already read plenty of French authors and I know what I like, and it’s easier for me to get interested in who influenced them or who they were in correspondence with. I don’t have that connection in Japanese.

But I think that’s pretty much okay. I didn’t get into Japanese for literature, I got into it to watch anime. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my success with this method, it’s that the best way to motivate me to learn something is letting me dive into it headfirst right away. If I want to learn Japanese to watch anime, you’re not going to get far telling me the best way to reach that goal is to do something completely unrelated like read novels, even if you are right. I can’t really measure how much manga is improving my vocabulary or general reading ability, but I’m certainly still learning something. I could just continue to do that until day that my vocabulary gains plateau (as measured by the SRS).

It’s funny, I encountered plenty of people with the same issue in French. They would read a bunch of comics and manga and then hit a wall and wonder why they weren’t improving. And I would always say the same thing — if you want to get better in a reasonable amount of time, you have to read a book. But if someone gave me this exact same advice now, I’d just refuse to listen. Or to put it another way, I’d just respond “then I guess I won’t get better in a reasonable amount of time.” It really is just that shrimple.

Listening

I focused a lot on reading for my first year and ended up with a huge gap between my reading and listening hours. In my second year I’ve tried to close that gap, with the goal of making it close to 50/50. I had initially thought that listening should be the focus because it’ll take more effort to improve, since that was my experience in French; then I thought the opposite; now I kind of think 50/50 should be alright. Ironically, listening has done a lot for my vocabulary, whereas I’d imagine that to come from reading. This is for two reasons:

I do a fair amount of lookups from listening (just hearing the word and typing it out) and I add the word directly to my SRS if it’s useful (I don’t bother writing custom sentences, and custom audio/images are currently not supported in JPDB).

I do most of my dedicated sentence mining using the mpv plugin for JPDB, which makes one-click vocab cards from subtitles with custom audio and screenshots.

So in the long run, focusing on listening has been good, and I generally feel my listening is pretty good for where it’s at. I’m nowhere near a wall with it, and since lack of vocabulary is still an issue, I don’t think I will feel like my pure listening ability is being tested for quite a while.

Anyway, at ~500 hours my level in listening is currently at a level I’m quite happy with. I can watch most anime without Japanese subtitles (and without lookups) and understand most of it. I’ve tested the upper limits by watching a bunch of the Ghibli movies, some of which are pretty tough (Grave of the Fireflies, The Wind Rises, Porco Rosso), and while I think I could do better, I imagine most of the issue is still vocabulary. There’s domain-specific stuff I struggle with quite a lot (politics, military, sci-fi, jidaigeki) but I think I’ll focus on them individually once I feel the vocabulary plateauing.

Goals

Honestly, I don’t have much motivation to focus on Japanese anymore — but I think that may be a good thing. What’s been keeping me going these last few months is not wanting to improve, but rather watching anime that I’ve been meaning to get around to for a while. And I did, and I had a good time. The lack of motivation comes from the fact that I’ve hit the “good enough” intermediate stage, where not quite everything comes naturally, but I can still pretty much watch or read whatever I want. I’ve kind of hit what was my goal all along. So from this point forward my journey with Japanese is a matter of managing my interest in various things that are in Japanese (anime, manga, etc). And as much as I’ve kept and would like to keep a sustained interest in doing that stuff, increasingly I’ve felt like it’s a passive activity, and not something I can really count on as my only hobby. I can envision shorter bursts of motivation, sprints, maybe joining a Tadoku. But I want to focus on other hobbies. So for the first time (because I didn’t bother doing this at all with French), I’m entering a maintenance mode. I don’t feel very optimistic about it, as I am kind of an “all-or-nothing” person, so the worst case scenario of me just not thinking about Japanese very much for an extended period of time is quite likely. And if that does happen, that’s okay. I’m going to aim for a measly 1 hour a day, and since I’m including my daily SRS of about 10 minutes in that count, plus the OP/ED of anime episode, that’s 2 episodes. I don’t think I’ll improve with that amount, and I might even get a little worse from time to time, but who cares! I’m very grateful to have been on this journey, to have more or less accomplished a life long dream, and while I sit back and enjoy the view I’m going to try and find new things to do that I haven’t done before.

#language learning #japanese

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

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𝑫𝒂𝒅! 𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛: 𝑪𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝑲𝒊𝒅𝒔

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

Hongjoong smiled proudly as he finished putting on the top coat on his daughter's tiny finger nails. Blowing on them softly, he admired his work of painting on a cute array of different glittery red and blue designs on each nail.

"Oh you already look so pretty my darling. Now let's finish up your hair."

Going behind her, he began to brush her hair, making sure not to pull too hard, not wanting accidentally hurt her.

"You know darling, daddy once had his hair those colors." He told her as he watched her admire her tiny painted nails.

The little girl, whipped her head around, an incredulous look on her face as she looked at her father's natural hair color.

"Don't worry. There was a time mommy didn't believe me when she saw my natural hair color."

His hands skillfully managed to make her hair into a ponytail and he fastly secured it with a a red scrunchie.

"Speaking of mommy, we're going to pick her up from work and then go out as a family to the park. What do you say?"

The girl immediately nodded, clapping her hands cautiously, not wanting to mess up her still drying nails. Picking her up, Hongjoong placed her on his arm and kissed her forehead.

"You're such a little cutie. You get that from your mommy...."

Holding up his finger to his lips, he continued:

"Don't tell her though. Remember she doesn't like being called cute."

He made her pinky promise not to say anything.

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Seonghwa had just finished helping your son brush his teeth and tucked him into bed. Kissing him goodnight, he made his way back into your room.

"Seonghwa?" You called out for him.

"Tell me love." He answered as he got into bed with you, his arm instantly pulling you against him.

"Do you think he's ready? Sleeping on his own from now on?" You asked him, full of worry.

Chuckling, he kissed the top of your head.

"Baby he's already 4 years old. I think it's perfectly fine for him to sleep in a room of his own."

You nodded softly, still unsure about it.

"Darling, his room is right next to ours and you saw how crazy and excited he was with picking out his bed and decorations. I think even he was anxious to move out of mommy and daddy's room." He teased you.

You huffed softly. "I miss my tiny baby."

"Oh how will you hold up when he goes to college?"

Right at that moment, a tiny head peeked into the room.

"Mommy." Your son cried out, his tiny legs running over and crawling up the bed and onto your lap.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" You asked.

"I wanna sleep here." He answered as he began making his way in between you two, getting under the covers and smiling at you two.

Seonghwa looked at you, about to say no but failing the moment he saw you pouting your lips. He looked back down at your son who had a similar puppy look on his tiny face.

Seonghwa had to admit defeat at his two babies ganging up on him.

"I guess one more night won't hurt. "

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Even though his hands were already full with the two baby carriages, Yunho somehow still managed to open the door for you.

"I made sure the house would be clean and spotless for when you all got here."

Your hands covered your mouth as you saw the big "Welcome home" banner that Yunho had put up the day before.

"Oh my god." You exclaimed.

"Oh. Wait til you see the nursery. And I want you two to see it as well."

Leading the way, Yunho and you walked down the hall and stopped in front of the room you had originally picked out to be the nursery. Although you had both started decorating it, you never got to fully finish it after you got further along in the pregnancy. And Yunho really wanted it to be a surprise for you and the twins you were carrying.

"Close your eyes." He told you.

You did as he asked and waited patiently for his next instructions. Putting the carriers down for a second, Yunho opened the door and quickly brought the babies inside.

"Now you can look."

You gasped as you took in the beautiful pink nursery. The two cribs had the girl's respective names carved into them so it'd be easier to tell them apart. The walls were decorated with flowers and butterflies, and the diaper station was already installed in the corner. It made you tear up how much work he put into it.

"Oh my God Yunho....thank you so much." You sobbed.

"No.....thank you for giving me not one, but two blessings." He pecked your lips.

Turning back to the babies, he picked them up in his hands.

"All right, now how about we figure out who goes in which bed cause I'm already confused."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Yeosang calmly stirred the baby food before looking at the baby in front of him.

"Ok sweetheart time to eat. So....open up."

Yeosang held up a spoonful of the food, but his 5 month old son simply looked away towards where Seonghwa was standing.

"Hey no no no. Don't look at Uncle Seonghwa, look at me, look at daddy. Look at daddy's hand! He has food!"

Yeosang swirled the spoon around, mimicking airplane noises as he held up the spoon right in front of the baby's face. Still his son made no initiative to eat it.

"Pleeeease eat the food! Your mom will be so mad if she finds out I couldn't feed you." Yeosang was now whining and sulking at this point.

Rolling his eyes, Seonghwa went over and snatched the spoon away from him.

"You're doing this all wrong Yeosang. Watch and learn."

Taking Yeosang's place, Seonghwa cooed at the baby, holding up the spoon again.

"Mam-ma?" Seonghwa did his infamous aegyo.

Yeosang was about to say something, but then he saw his son giggle and happily accept the food. Yeosang's arms dropped to his sides.

"Seriously? He listens to you but not me? I'm his father!" Yeosang complained.

"You'll learn in time Yeosang. I'm already on baby number three while you're on your first. Give yourself time. You'll soon learn how easy it is."

He gave the utensils back to Yeosang so he could finish. Sighing softly, Yeosang attempted it

"Mam-ma?" He was embarrased but elated when he finally got to feed his son himself.

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

San had a huge smile plastered on his face. He was holding his 6 year old son's hand, the little toddler happily skipping about, sometimes landing big jumps that caused San to almost let go of him.

"Somebody is excited." You chuckled as you adjusted your 1.5 year old daughter on your arms.

"Of course he's excited. It's his first day of school. He's going to make a lot of friends and he's going to make us proud. Right buddy?"

The little boy nodded and almost ran off when he finally caught sight of the entrance to the school. San however was faster and caught him.

"Ok ok slow down bud. First things first."

Setting him down, he began opening his backpack.

"Do you have all your school books and utensils?"

San began to check that they didn't forget anything he would need. Satisfied that he had everything, San kissed his forehead.

"Say bye to mommy and your baby sister."

You put the girl down so she could give her older brother a kiss on the cheek, which he made a cringing face at but still accepted. Then he went over and kissed your cheek, saying a goodbye before sauntering off to class. You and San just looked at him, feeling somewhat nostalgic. Your thoughts were interrupted when your daughter let out a squeal and tried to run after her brother.

"Oh no way missy! You don't get to leave me for another 4 years......maybe 40." San giggled as he picked her up.

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

"27, 28, 29, 30! Ok! Ready or not here I come!"

Running down the hall, Mingi began his quest of finding out where his daughter was hiding at. He first checked under all the beds, knowing she would usually fit her tiny body underneath them.

"Ahh I see you're getting more clever now."

Chuckling, he went to the bathroom, sneaking in very quietly.

"Gotcha! Oh wait no." Mingi felt flustered when he didn't see two large eyes looking back at him when he pulled back the curtain.

"Seriously, where can that girl be?" He asked as he went back to the kitchen to search.

Puzzlement soon turned to panic as Mingi couldn't find her anywhere. He began running frantically all over the place, searching every corner and shelf, but still there was no trace of his little girl.

"Haha...ok princess you win..... so please come out now....." He called out, unable to mask the worry in his voice.

But the girl didn't respond and now he was freaking out.

"Oh my God! I lost my own daughter! What will I tell Y/N?! She's gonna kill me! I'm a horrible father! Sweetheart where are you?!"

He was on the verge of crying when he saw some shuffling coming from one of the curtains. Mingi walked over there and pulled the curtain back, relieved and shocked to find his daughter laying on the huge window sill, hugging her bunny plush, sleeping soundly. Mingi let out a sigh of relief.

"God what a scare you gave me." He said as he picked her up and carried her back to her room.

Gently, he layed down on his bed, his arms holding her against him. He smiled at her tiny sleeping figure.

"Oh look. You pout in your sleep just like your mom. Never noticed that."

Kissing her nose, he decided to take a nap alongside her as well, exhausted from the terrifying moment he just went through.

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Wooyoung definitely wasn't having the best time of his life as he peeled the diaper open.

"Ew ew ew ew." Wooyoung looked away, not wanting to see the mess caused by his 3 month old son.

You however stood behind him, watching him and trying to direct him, although right now you were merely rolling your eyes at how dramatic he was being.

Wooyoung took a quick glance and groaned.

"Why are babies so gross?"

You smacked him on the head for that.

"You wanted a baby? Well now you have to learn to take care of him. I go back to work in one month and I sure as hell aren't leaving my kid in your care if you're not ready." You told him.

"Ok fine! Geez. Just don't pressure me. I'm new at this."

Wooyoung struggled to get the diaper off and rolled up to throw away, but once he did, it seemed he got passed the hard part. You then proceeded to show him how to wipe the baby's bottom and the importance of using the cream the doctor prescribed to prevent diaper rash or any infection. Wooyoung seemed to be doing fine, all he had left to do now was put on a clean diaper.

"AAAAHHHH!"

Wooyoung screeched loudly when your son decided it would be a fun idea to pee at that moment, landing right on Wooyoung's chest. You bursted out laughing, literally doubling over and slapping your knee.

"Oh my God! That was so funny!" You exclaimed.

"What the heck?! Why would you do that?! Attack your own father like that?!"

Grabbing the diaper, he handed it to you.

"Take care of your son."

"He's your son too Woo." You reminded him.

"He's only my son when he's a little angel and is well behaved. Right now, he's strictly yours."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

"All right. Now here's what you're going to do. You're just going to kick that ball into that net as hard as you can."

Getting into position, Jongho waited for his son to kick the ball. The boy ran as fast as he could and kicked the ball, but not hard enough so it was easy for Jongho to catch it.

"Good job buddy! Just a little bit more."

Tossing the ball back, he once again got into a goalie position, watching in amusement as his son tried once again to kick it into the net but failed as it didn't even reach anywhere near it, the boy getting a little sad.

"It's ok. Don't worry about it. You'll get the hang of it soon." Jongho assured him.

"Daddy I want to try!" His sister, who up to now had been helping you prepare food, now stood up and ran over, not wanting to be left out.

"Ok baby girl, give it a try." He tossed the ball to her, which she surprisingly caught rather easily.

"What can you sissy little girl do?" Your son taunted her.

"Put a stick on it." She stuck her tongue out at him, which you quickly chastised her for.

The little girl surprised everyone when she kicked the ball so hard and fast that even Jongho couldn't block it, it just flew past him. Jongho was so surprised and soon he was happy.

"That's my little girl! Daddy's girl!" He shouted as he ran over to her and began parading her around the soccer field, already planning on having her take soccer lessons.

Your son on the other hand, stomped all the way back to where you were, huffing slightly. You hugged him.

"Don't worry. You know you'll always be mommy's boy."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #dad!ateez #ateez dad au #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

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juniperrivers · 3 years

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I Can Swem || Juniper & Dave

TIMING: Current. LOCATION: A cove outlet. PARTIES: @juniperrivers @seizethecarpe SUMMARY: Juniper runs into Dave while going out for a swim. She’s ecstatic at there being another selkie in White Crest that’s not her aunt. They decide to go for a little swim.

Juniper’s aunt’s words are static, scattered and worried, ringing in the back of her head as she made her way towards the beach. ‘Not without me,’ the older woman had said. It was less of an instruction, more of a demand. Still, the call of the ocean was loud, loud enough to drown out any worries that might have crept into her underbelly. Her skin laid neatly in her backpack, perhaps the only thing she treated with care. She navigated the uneven terrain as she made her way to a separate part of the beach that was less frequented by humans, and offered her a sense of security more than a cove would, especially these days. The rocks underneath her feet gave way with her weight as she struggled to keep upright, the palms of her hands slapping against the surfaces as she skidded down the small slope. Out of breath as she finally reached the private beach, small hill facings on either side, she began to take off her backpack. Not before she caught sight of somebody. How could that be? She had gone so far. She watched them curiously before she let out a loud shriek. Her legs carried her forward without much thought, up until she realized she had dropped her backpack onto the ground. She spun around quickly to scoop it up, holding it to her chest as she ran over the rocky surface to the man who was doing just as she had come to do; swim. “Hey! Hey!” Juniper screamed excitedly as she approached him, one hand above her head waving, “Omigosh, I’ve never seen anyone other than me, and well, my aunt! And my parents, but they’re gone--” Juniper stared wide-eyed at the stranger, her grin only growing wilder by the second.

Dave’s stomach rumbled as he peeled off the layers of his clothes, carefully folding them into his bag before tucked it out of sight under the mini dock, pinned in place by some of the larger rocks he’d found over the past few months and brought over here for this purpose. Wind whipped around him as Dave’s skin became more and more slimy. He lowered himself down into the water before it became too slippy to stand, sliding his fingers over his skin to check that nothing was stuck on the inside before slowly beginning to pull it over his legs, seamlessly beginning the transition to seal as he slid the skin further and further up his body. Which was when he heard a human voice. Dave cursed, about to submerge himself fully to hide as she waved, when he made out a word or two of what she was yelling. Dave squinted, trying to made out her words, but still sank a little lower in the turbid water to conceal the skin all the same. “Gonna need you to speak up. I don’t hear so good,” he replied gruffly. This entire beach smelled like seal, fish, and a hell of a lot of it. He was upwind of her, unable to catch her scent. “Do I know you?”

“What did you say?” Juniper called back, eyebrows knit together as she watched him sink further into the water. She definitely hadn’t mistaken, he was like her! Juniper stepped closer to the water, her index finger outstretched to indicate towards his lower half that was submerged underneath the water. “I don’t know you, you don’t know me!” Juniper spoke loudly, taking a step further towards the water so that her shoe became wet. “I’m like you though, I saw you--” She looked over her shoulder to make sure nobody followed her. She tightened her grip on her backpack and looked down. Whether or not her next action was a mistake, she couldn’t be sure. She unzipped her backpack and grabbed her skin, pulling it up just enough for him to see. “I’m like you!” Juniper said again, the excitement rising back in her voice. “Isn’t that cool?” She watched the man in wonderment. “Like I said, I only know about my aunt, which--” She shrugged, “she doesn’t like it when I go swimming by myself, but that's not my problem.” Juniper shook her head with a sigh before she pointed back towards her skin, shoving it back into her bag. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear!”

Dave glared at her as she came closer, moving deeper into the water. He understood her this time, as she insisted they were alike. He shifted slightly, peeling the skin off his legs so he could stand, dressed in nothing but a thick layer of slime. She pulled her skin - a skin - out of her backpack, holding it up clearly for him to look it over. He breathed in deeply through his nose. He could smell the salty, seaweed, fishy seal scent on her, but without getting closer, it wasn’t possible to tell whether that was just the seal pelt she carried with her, perhaps freshly stolen or freshly cut from someone. Dave opened his mouth, baring his 1.5 inch canines and jagged teeth in a threat display, warning her not to come closer just yet. “Prove it. Show me your teeth or your slime.”

The man’s expression and stance were lost on Juniper. She was still excited, and naively so about somebody like her out in the open, despite the frigid temperatures. She had heard about humans stealing skins, but they couldn’t wear them, not according to her aunt. Juniper blinked at him as he bared his teeth, the canines clipping over his lips. She pointed at them, her excitement only growing. The excitement that came over her did just what he had wanted. A smear of slime dripped from her underarm and she quickly took off her jacket, tossing it to the ground. Juniper wiped her hand alongside her arm and held it up for his examination. “See! I’m not lying! And I would loo-o-o-ve to show you my teeth, but my aunt has this weird thing on them, so I can’t show you, mostly because those things she made me put in my mouth, the sort of hurt so I didn’t like them and I kept forgetting to put them in,” without taking a breath, Juniper continues as loud as she can bare, rapidly signing as she speaks, “and so one time I saw this boy and he saw them and he went crying to his mom and then my aunt had to explain I was wearing my Halloween costume early, but it was like MARCH!” Juniper let out a breath and sighed, wiping her hand onto her jeans.

Dave looked at the slime, his shoulders dropped, and he stopped baring his teeth as much. He opened his mouth to apologise for his rapid response when Juniper’s words began to flood out of her like a dam had broken. He blinked, curiously. She was talking about something that could either be a full glamour, or a tooth guard with a small amount glamour like his. Or hell, something else entirely. But almost as fast as he’d had the damn thought she was rattling about some crying child and halloween and Dave needed to pause to understand what the hell she was saying. Some kid has seen her teeth, maybe? “Got it. Hell, sorry kid. You can never be too careful about this shit.” He scooped down to pick up his skin out of the water, idly picking seaweed out from between the folds. “I’ve Dave,” He said, looking back up at her. “Were you about to go for a swim?”

Juniper had a fairly significant fight or flight response, and though the human world was far different in understanding when one should run, manipulation was entirely unheard of for her. Sea creatures weren’t the type to master such a feat. Her aunt had warned her about speaking to strangers, but the very fact that this man, now called Dave, was like her? It wiped the slate clean of any worry that Juniper should feel. She blinked at him, her smile only growing in size as he gave her his name. “Dave? I’m Juniper. Like the berry!” She looked out towards the water, then back to her skin which was visible from her bag. “Yes, actually!” She hadn’t gotten to go for a lengthy swim in quite some time, her aunt always worried, always rushing her back in when the waves got too rough, when there was the threat of somebody seeing. “Do you want to swim together?” She asked, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of having a buddy other than her aunt.

“Juniper,” Dave repeated back, to make sure he heard it right. When she asked him to swim together, he paused. Even in the water, he had no where near the energy of a young pup, and his hunts for food were careful and methodical… On the other hand, when the hell was the last time he’d swum with a person rather than a regular seal? The corner of his lips turned up. “Sure,” he said, pointing out where he’d hidden his bag under the dock so she could hide hers there as well. Dave breathed in carefully, looking around, but this time he was certain no one was around. Sinking back into the water, he wrapped the pelt around his legs and waist, the slime fusing his body into something different and familiar as anything else. He pulled the head of his pelt over his own head, his body stretching to accommodate it like a cat stretching into a ray of sunlight. All at once, he was long and agile, wriggling into the water until he was no longer on the rocks. After a couple of loops, he stuck his head above the water, looking around for Juniper.

Juniper blinked at him, waiting for a response. When he finally gave her his answer, she let out a shriek of joy and dropped her backpack to the ground. Juniper kicked off her shoes, pulling her sweater over her head. She struggled for a moment to get it from over her ears, but once it was off, she noticed that Dave was no longer on the shore. After completely undressing, she moved towards the water, her backpack now securely tucked in the same area where Dave’s belongings were. She pulled her skin over her, easing into the way her anxieties faded into the background-- this was where she was at her most familiar, at her safest. She knew that wasn’t absolutely true, but to her, it was. After the skin had fused to her skin, she slipped underneath the water, finding Dave a few feet from the shore. She ducked back underneath, gliding beneath Dave and deeper into the water.

Dave circled in the shallows until Juniper was ready. For all the sharpness and clarity the land had, it was nothing compared to the vivacious world underwater. Without gravity holding the world down, there was freedom for there to be colour and movement in every direction. Colours he could hardly see in his human form. Small schools of fish darted around him, safe in the knowledge that they were far too small to be targeted by him. He didn’t have to wait long for the vibrations in the water that told him Juniper was sliding into the water. He turned in a wide arc as she swam underneath him, surfacing for a quick breath before chasing her deeper into waters, racing up alongside her to head her to where he’d been about to find his meal. The ocean melted every human concern away, until it was just him, the water, and the absurdly playful ringed seal swimming with him.

Every time Juniper slipped back into the water, she felt at home. She had spent so many years of her life as a seal, and when she had been forced to assume the human life-- though, for her own good her aunt had assured her, it felt foreign, unreal. Assimilating into a culture she knew nothing about was still proving to be difficult-- but despite her rambunctious nature, she was a quick learner. Though, it only seemed to be in things that she cared about getting to know. Juniper swam alongside Dave, his form much longer and agile than her own, but she had no issue in keeping up. The way the water felt-- almost as if it were her skin instead of the one she protected so heavily. The school of fish darted away from them as they swam deeper, deeper into the water.

The small seal breached only in the moments in which she was in need of oxygen, and it was possibly hours later that they came to the shore, the brightness of the swim evident in the apples of her cheeks as she began to slip out of her skin, assuming her identity as the 18 year old Juniper Rivers. It wasn’t until she was fully clothed, tucking her skin back into her bag that she noticed the time blinking up at her from her phone. “Oh, oh no!” Juniper exclaimed to her companion, pulling her backpack to her chest, “I’m going to be in so much trouble! Thanks for the swim!” She turned back around just before leaving, “we’re friends now by the way!”

#chatzy #para: dave #para: i can swem #//this title is for olivia bc i know she'll get it

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sheepdogjim-blog · 3 years

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Good dog/bad dog

Holy crap it’s Friday and I’m sitting at home in front of the fire, coffee in hand and psycho dog at feet (Yes Dad, I still have job). Looks like we survived another 1/52th of our orbit around a slightly cooler yellow ball of life in the sky and we’ll get to fight the ‘rona for at least another day.

That is if the four legged spawn of Satan doesn’t try to kill us today.

I figured I might use my words today to give ya’ll an update on the fur monsters progress since the last time there was a trip to the Emergency room for any one of the residents at Furlong HQ.

So Lenz, and we have not started calling him Lennie yet because at this point it’d be like refering to Harvey Weinstien as “my cuddly uncle”, has began his transformation from working animal to pet. He no longer sleeps in a locked crate, or spends his days in his outdoor kennel. Nope, now he sleeps spread out in the middle of our king sized bed from 9 pm until 4:45 am, regulating Gloria and I to a mere 1.5’ x 6.5’ slice of diametrically opposed real estate on either side of the bed. Every evening it’s a game to see what letter our sleeping pattern will be, H, N, Z, I, etc. as Lenz determines the path forward, because he generally goes to sleep first, and then there’s just no moving him. Not that you’d want to.

Remember how it took 4 months for us to actually see him sleep? When this ct decides its nighty nighty, you let him go. You don’t wake the nuclear reactor if you plan on getting any sleep yourself. We’ve also toyed with the idea of getting rid of our alarm clock radio because Lenz’s internal clock keeps much better time, and at 4:59 am he’s wide awake (but you’d never know because he’s in K9 stealth mode) until the first notes of whatever music 103.9 is playing at the moment. At that exact moment my body has been trained to fly quickly into a fetal position as Lenz leaps from a low sitting position over me to the floor on the other side of the room in one motion, and if there’s a body part under his hind legs when he launches, there will be curse words and A535 in the immediate aftermath. Obviously 8 months out of training hasn’t unconditioned his agility and strength, but more about that later.

So regardless of the day of week we head downstairs and have our coffee, and by our coffee I truly mean our coffee because Lenz has developed a taste for breakfast blend, and every time I forget to hold my cup in my hand when I get up to do something, I come back to find his barkness standing over the cup with his 12 inch tongue rapidly darting in and out of the cup consuming my morning joe, all the while looking at me with those big brown eyes as to say “don’t judge me”. He also has developed a taste for expensive scotch, but I’ve learned to drink the 14-year and older malts out of a sippy cup to avoid any more embossing apologies to the neighbors, and the trauma to their cat.

Speaking of chasing tail, Lenz unlike his predecessor Ozzy, is not a ladies’ man. Lenz refers to terrorize the members of the female persuasion, mostly by going into full K9 mode when they come visit. No before ya’ll start going all #metoo, there’s a theme. It started with a visit by our realtor who was wearing a long puffy coat, and when she came in to get our signatures on some papers one evening, Lenz went full K9 on her. Keep in mind the ‘rona has prevented us from fully socializing him yet, as we have had hardly anyone at our house since our dark overlords imposed dracoian lockdowns in the name of safety on us (idiots). So any time anyone informs us they are coming over, I keep him on a short leash until he gets a chance to get comfortable with a stranger in his home (and believe me, it’s his home now). So back to our poor realtor who is now standing in our kitchen with a 70lb mouth of teeth gnashing at 100 clamps per hour between full barks and lunges, and I can see her eyes (they are the size of dinner plates) darting between the great white shark teeth and the thin nylon fabric of his walking leash, I imagine praying that the leash holds (Note: he’s gone through 3 so far). He doesn’t normally respond that way to visitors, and it wasn’t until our masseuse came over one evening wearing a puffy jacket that I figured it out.

He sees them as bite suits.

I guess you can take the dog out of the RCMP, but you can’t take the RCMP out of the dog. (Ed. Note – that would explain his love of coffee, scotch, and general distrust of people).

He and Gloria seem to be getting along better, the references to “your f-ing dog” have declined, and I’m no longer allowed to lock him in his crate at night, so that means they’ve bonded somewhat, although the cheeky little bastard as smart as he is doesn’t seem to get that if you keep chewing her favorite slippers, your longevity within the circle of trust will always be tenous at best. Yesterday he ate her favorite Roots slippers.

They still aren’t speaking as of this morning.

Actually he’s been getting less destructive as we find ways to engage him to keep his boredom down, but last month there was the pergola incident. In our backyard we had an aluminum pergola over our dining table that over the winter had the screws loosen a bit that gave it a bit of a lean, so much so we tied two ropes to it one night after a wind storm as I wanted to get some plates made to reinforce the attachment points, and had to go to work. I figured I’d fix it that evening when I got home. When I arrived home that evening there was twist aluminum everywhere the pergola used to be.

Apparently Lenz kept untying the ropes for fun, and Gloria kept re-tying them, up until the point Lenz finally got bored with the game and used the two ropes, once he untied them again, to pull the pergola down, and then quartered it. There was aluminum everywhere, it was a scene directly out of Dr. Detroit (you know the one in the junkyard).

So I guess now we need a new pergola built.

Don’t get me wrong, he has his good points. He’s the cuddliest German shepherd of all times, he loves to spoon and will literally pay on top of you and fall asleep. He eats all leftovers, so there’s not much to go in the compost bin, and he’s the best security system in the world, because if you break into our house you will be the one calling 9-1-1, and that’s if you have it on speed dial. He is one protective MF, especially of Gloria.

All kidding aside, he’s turning into an amazing dog, he’s cute and cuddly on the outside and hype vigilant and protective on the inside, and he’s making progress to civilian life after leaving the force last summer, so there’s hope for getting him to a normal life as a pet. Mind you I’ve been out 13 years and I still struggle at times, but at least he and I can relate (usually over a scotch) and he’s a great listener, and as long as I can keep Gloria in slippers I think he’ll be around awhile. At least until the new pergolas built anyway.

Have Friday folks, be kind to one another, or I’m sending Lenz over for a visit.

Jim out.

#houndsofhell satanspet WTFwasIthinking

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thesummerstorms · 4 years

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Rev Recaps Hard Contact (Chapter 7)

CW: mass execution

TL;DR Recap: Niner & Omega watch the Separatists murder Hokan’s old militia. Etain and Darman meet and it’s incredibly awkward. Hokan takes time to gloat. The truth finally comes out about Atin.

Beginning Kal Count: 10 Ending Kal Count: 12 (or 12.5)

THIS RECAP IS THE LONGEST YET. Everything seems to happen in this chapter.

So we open with Niner being bored, Fi being Fi, and Atin being cheerful because he’s up to his elbows in electronic guts. The scene starts pretty quiet before a massive tonal change, but it’s honestly the front half that’s my favorite, just for character reasons.

Niner is bored and grumpy, so logically he’s thinking about how to revise the training manual. Plus his little “if one precaution was good, two were better.” Good old Niner. Fi being amused that Atin is made content by shredding a computer to pieces. I don’t know, it’s just the little things about their dynamic that makes me happy.

Niner is still upset with Atin, but he’s also curious. He doesn’t have long to think about it though, because the Separatist troops assigned to Uthan along with some of the battle droids assigned to the planet start approaching Hokan’s old Weequay militia. The squad watches as the Separatist officer and the droids proceed to murder every single one of Hokan’s old “associates” in visual range with no warning then retreat back to their base, which Niner finds understandably worrying.

We switch then to Etain, who is frustrated and paranoid and is building herself an emergency exist by loosening the boards in the back wall of the barn where Jinart has been hiding her. She’s yet again frustrated that she can’t do more with her Force powers, and her lack of self-esteem really comes out in full measure.

“She wondered why Jedi blood had bothered to manifest itself in someone who was so fallible.” Sweetheart...

Jinart arrives to take her somewhere and lets Etain finally feel her presence in the Force. But when Etain mistakes Jinart for a Jedi and asks why Jinart didn’t tell her what she was... Jinart tells Etain to shut up.

“And given your competence, I’m the one who’s most at risk. Now, silence.”

Okay, listen, if you could give her even like three seconds of genuine explanation rather than just attacking her for not trusting you after her teacher was literally sold out and then tortured to death, then you wouldn’t need to tell her to STFU. I’m just saying, Jinart.

Anyway, Jinart tells Etain that there’s a soldier waiting up ahead for her, so Etain heads in that direction, despite Jinart still being extremely shady. She’s about to meet Darman, and while I love them both dearly, while this ship is my OTP, it’s... really fucking awkward.

Listen. This is just weird as hell, okay? I’m gonna admit it. I also pretend it ... wasn’t written like this. Because while Darman is naive and inexperienced, he still has enough neurological development (and enough experiences that go beyond the pale of normal adulthood even) that this weird framing of him as “childlike” just comes off creepy. So I ignore it. That’s really all I have to say about it.

Etain feels Darman’s scope or his attention through the scope or whatever, and decides “well, I’m going to fuck someone up before I die, if I can”, which to be fair, is a very Etain thing to do.

Darman sees her lighstaber is like “oh, finally a Jedi”, and tries to greet her politely. Except this is Etain, who really has no idea what the fuck is going on except that she’s been on this planet for three or more months, the only person she trusted was murdered, and there’s an evil Mandalorian somewhere who wants to hurt her badly.

So naturally when her vision clears (Darman blinded her with some kind of light), she see his helmet, assumes Jinart’s shadiness was in fact the prelude to a betrayal and that this is Hokan...

Darman getting worried now:

And Etain being Etain,she launches herself at him. (ง'̀-'́)ง(ง'̀-'́)ง(ง'̀-'́)ง

It... doesn’t go well. Darman deflects most of her attacks pretty easily and literally dumps her in the river, continuing to try and calm her down to no avail, but she’s reached her breaking point and is pretty much in a blind rage.

“and when she was frightened and desperate and angry that was very hard indeed. She hadn’t know it until now.”

Listen, it’s a very un-Jedi-like but very Etain thing to do, and also who can really blame her given what she thought was happening and the kind of time she’s had on this planet so far. But Darman is exasperated, and I’m pretty Etain was embarrassed looking back at this for the remainder of her very short life.

Anyway, Darman finally manages to calm her down enough to let him talk, and in the process, he tries to smooth things over by taking the blame. He didn’t identify himself, it’s his fault, etc. He introduces himself (with the wrong designation- KT uses CC 1136, which would make him a Commander, rather than RC 1136) but in doing so, he uses terms of ranks, confusing the hell out of her. She asks when they got a Grand Army and-

We get the iconic “handing her back her lightsaber from the river” scene, except the official art for that picture always neglects to depict the fact that as gentlemanly as he’s trying to be, she’s dripping wet with her hair plastered in her face and desperately trying to politely ask her not to either get herself shot or go after him with a lightsaber again.

Instead of “meet cute” it’s more of a “meet extremely awkward”.

Anyway, this is all coming on the heels of several really bad months for Etain and the utter dismissal she just got from Jinart, so her insecurity really comes out in this conversation. It’s not really pretty.

(Side note, for once I do have to give KT some points on effectively carrying a tiny world building thing: Dar was embarrassed when Jusik asked for his name, he’s embarrassed that Etain is doing it now, and he’s going to be embarrassed again when she asks the rest of his squad.)

“talking army gibberish” lmao.

Again, self-esteem issues. But to be honest, as embarrassed as I am for Etain in this scene (she really doesn’t give her best here) it’s probably because I can relate a hell of a lot to her emotions?

Like, imagine. You’ve already got major issues with your self-worth from a lifetime of not being good enough for the people and the system that raised you, you just got dragged by an old woman after months of struggling behind enemy lines, you failed in your mission to protect the one person who gave a shit about you, and some (to your knowledge) regular human just successfully took you down without too much struggle when Jedi are supposed to be more than human, the best of the best. Then he turns to you with wide-eyed confidence and insists you are now his commanding officer, and you almost feel worse because he’s trying to absolve you of any fault.

I’d be kind of prickly and asshole-ish, too, if I’m honest.

Again, we start with her having trouble with some wounded pride. But... we end on that bomb shell, and I would not blame Etain for short-circuiting at being told a 10 year old had been “bred to serve [her]. It’s a hell of a lot.

Anyway, I’m aware I copied and pasted almost the entire scene, but there’s a lot there, okay? But next comes more Hokan, and he’s basically just gloating that he’s now more powerful than Ankkit.

*long, exasperated sigh*

Listen, I could write a college essay about characterization just focusing on this man’s use of the word decadent, holy fuck. Also, the gloating is “vulgar” but all he does for pretty much his entire appearance in this chapter is gloat.

You know who Hokan would have gotten on with? Vizsla. Wait- no. Even Vizsla kicked him out. Anyway, Hokan finishes gloating and then goes off to murder a farmer for not divulging important information quickly enough/trying to trade it for booze.

This chapter is long and I know I’ve made this post really long, but we cut back to Niner and Fi again. They’ve made their way to one of the rendezvous points, only to find the trees that should be there aren’t. Fi eventually guesses that they’ve been logging and makes a disparaging comment about intel. Niner gives a little bit more exposition on how terrible the Kaminoans were, including a rumor about clones with impaired eyesight who disappeared and a comment about how Jedi giving orders is different from Kaminoans because Kaminoans are the only things he fears.

Fi is sighing, and eventually Niner prods at him:

And we get our biggest Kal Count yet. Technically this is one continuing remembrance, but it’s also long as hell and includes lots of little memories, so I almost want to include it as 1.5 towards our Kal Count, bringing us to a total of 11 (or 11.5). I’m way more interested in their conversation before Kal is brought up than after, honestly. But the reminiscing gets broken up when Omega is suddenly shot at by a few Separatist officers and a bunch of battle droids:

Please, please imagine this moment with the cartoon B1 battle droid voices from The Clone Wars. Please, I’m begging you.

Atin saves Niner’s life, which is honestly the most positive thing that has happened between the two of them so far and marks a turning point for them in general. It’s also the first time we get to see Fi jump in as squad medic, but he’s super efficient about it. Also, he snarks at Atin as he’s actively trying to decide if Atin is dying or not:

Niner offers to carry Atin’s pack for him until he’s doing better, which means he’s probably carrying something like 300 lbs now, even if Atin did save his life. And I know my screenshots for this post have been ridiculously long, but Niner finally, finally reconciles with Atin enough to figure out why Atin has been an asshole about Darman this whole time (minus the Vau thing):

It’s a pretty nice closing line to the scene, honestly. Also, technically speaking our Kal Count just jumped to 12.

I’ll spare you most of the closing scene because it’s just Hokan being pissed and thinking it’s impossible clones could have done this, but:

a) Mandalorian. Honor. Complex. You’d think Mandalore the Ultimate had been in charge for the last few years instead of Jango.

b) seriously. What is it with the word “decadent”??????

But it’s over quickly with Hokan making the wry observation that if he didn’t know better he would think he was being haunted by Jango’s ghost.

#Rev Recaps RepComm #Republic Commando #Hard Contact #Etain Tur-Mukan #Darman Skirata #Niner Skirata #Atin Skirata #Fi Skirata #Ghez Hokan

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hoshi-cola · 4 years

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Kimora Phillips - Updated Info

Name: Kimora Phillips Organization: Formerly Navy SEALs Code Name: Snare Age: 29 Birthdate: November 22nd Birth Place: Bakersfield, California Panethnicity: Asian-American Eye Color: Emerald green Hair Color: Chocolate cherry [Reddish-Brown] Height: 5”11’ Weight: 143 lbs (65kg)

Position: Attacker Stats: 3 speed - 1 armor - 1 difficulty

Gadget: A thick wire rope in which she can launch at enemies or barricades. It is a semi-close range gadget. If she launches it at an enemy or teammate, the rope will wrap around the target and pull them close. This, however, puts away her weapon. It takes her 1.5 seconds to pull it back out once again, her target will be stunned for 1 second and takes 0.5 seconds to pull out their own weapon again. Launching at the top of a barricade will make Kimora yank down the barricade. She cannot do this to soft or reinforced walls or Castle’s armour panels. It works similar to Sledge’s hammer, as in it has charges. It has a total of 15 charges. Grabbing an enemy takes up 5 charges while breaching a barricade takes up 3. There is also a cooldown of 10 seconds to her ability, preventing players from spamming the ability on a single enemy or teammate.

Biography:

Kimora’s mother, Cassandra Phillips, lived in California all her life who met Kimora’s father, Dante Wilson when she visited Australia with a few friends. The two kept in contact through the phone and tried their best with the newly invented internet. After a few months, the two had decided that they wanted to test the waters with dating. The two hated the long-distance and Dante bought a ticket to the U.S to move in with Cassandra.

After a few years, Kimora was born as an only child to the couple. To keep up with money, Cassandra got a new job with a higher paycheck but at the cost of more hours. Thus, Cassandra was barely in Kimora’s life in her childhood and Dante took lead in parenting. Due to this, Kimora grew a good relationship with her father and it’s how she grew a small addiction to chilli. As she grew up and she went into middle school, her relationship with her mother became strained which led to multiple arguments between them. These arguments led to arguments between Cassandra and Dante. The two would often yell at each other while Kimora desperately tried to sleep.

Eventually, Cassandra and Dante wouldn’t last and the two broke up. Dante would give up on America and move back to Australia, leaving Kimora with her mother. Kimora and Cassandra’s relationship only got worse as Cassandra began to drink almost daily, it became one of the main points in their arguments that occurred every day for months.

Their arguments led to Kimora’s over-eating problem. This continued into high school where she became overweight and dealt with constant bullying. The bullying became worse as she was diagnosed with vitiligo and patches of her skin began to lose pigment. She dealt with depression and her weight only worsened as a result. But a transfer student who couldn’t care less for her weight started to talk to her and thus, the two quickly became best friends. Jenny, the transfer student, convinced Kimora to start working out to get Kimora happier with her body. Jenny even convinced Kimora to start working out when she was upset or angry to help her cool down.

Eventually, their relationship wasn’t just best friends and the two began secretly dating. The two were masters at hiding it and nobody suspected a thing for months. It wasn’t until Jenny’s father caught the two kisses after arriving home earlier than expected. He exploded into a rage and threatened to kill Kimora before throwing a vase at her, thankfully missing her. She ran out of the house and when she went to school after the weekend, Jenny wasn’t at school. Her family had moved.

Kimora, despite being heartbroken, continued to work out and decided she wanted to join the U.S military as it was what Jenny said she wanted to do. She trained hard almost every day for hours, never returning home until the gym closed. It was something that distracted her from her alcoholic mother. Of course, after weeks of constantly exercising, Kimora ended up in the hospital after passing out in the gym. Her mother never came and after waking up to an empty room, the fact hurt Kimora.

When she turned 18, Kimora packed her bags and left her mother’s house. She got a job and paid her friends to let her stay at their houses for a few weeks. She never enlisted for the military, having lost interest a few months after Jenny left.

However, the aspiration came back in 2015, when women were finally allowed to join the Navy SEALs. She enlisted into the Navy SEALs after taking the SEAL challenge but her vitiligo was an issue to the higher-ups. The increased risk of cancer plus her distinct facial features were concerning to them but thankfully, they came to an agreement. She covered up more than regular SEALs to hide her vitiligo and if her life was ever endangered due to her disease, she would be discharged from the Navy SEALs.

During her years of service, she met operators Valkyrie and Blackbeard. The three quickly bonded and became close, Kimora soon considering them her family. Valkyrie became similar to a big sister to her and was, and still is, very protective of her well-being. She often tries to get Kimora to relax after she had been pushing herself too far. Blackbeard and Kimora, while considering each other like siblings, have a more casual relationship. Blackbeard gives her a few suggestions but doesn’t take action to force Kimora to relax. Regardless of their different methods, the two are supportive and a bit too protective of Kimora, treating her as if she were their little sister.

These relationships ended a year afterwards as Valkyrie and Blackbeard left unexpectedly. Kimora felt abandoned again and struggled in her duties but was performing well enough to keep her job.

In 2019, after a spy gave intel to terrorists, Kimora was attacked in her home by terrorists who intended to use her as a hostage. This attempt failed as the attackers were inexperienced but the damage had been done.

Her higher-ups considered the attack to be caused by her vitiligo and she was terminated from her duties. This ruined her and she spent a few months wallowing in despair as she struggled to get used to civilian life. Thankfully, she managed to get ahold of Blackbeard and explained her situation.

Blackbeard, knowing how much serving meant to her, suggested her to Harry in hopes he would invite her to Rainbow. In which he did. Kimora would join Rainbow in late 2019.

Psychological Profile

When I first met Phillips, it was obvious she had an upbeat personality. She excused her behaviour due to being excited over being able to serve again, more than just her country. Most of our conversations were pleasant, she seems to be optimistic the majority of the time. She also is strongly determined and never seems to back down from her goals, similar to Valkyrie. However, as our conversations got more in-depth, it is just as obvious that she suffers from abandonment issues with many important people leaving her throughout her life, her father, her ex-girlfriend and operators Blackbeard and Valkyrie.

On the topic of operators Blackbeard and Valkyrie, Phillips relationships with them have a rift. She has a small grudge against them for leaving her only a year after the three met. But when asked, she simply brushes it off as understanding they couldn’t tell her where they went but wished they kept in contact out of work.

She also appears to hold a grudge against her former higher-ups for terminating her from her duties. I’ve asked her about this but she avoids the topic to the best of her ability. I feel her hiding her problems may become an issue later on.

Naturally, with a skin disease that increases the risk of cancer, I have put her under the watchful eye of Doc. He displayed his dislike of having someone with the risk of cancer in Rainbow but after some long convincing, he seemed to become neutral on the issue and has agreed to keep an eye on her health.

Regardless of her obstacles, Phillips doesn’t let these things bring her down and this may prove to be her strongest strength. I’m looking forward to having her in Rainbow.

-Dr. Harishva "Harry" Pandey

#rainbow six siege #r6s #rainbow six #blackbeard #valkyrie #r6s oc #oc kimora phillips #oc #original character

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brokemultidotexe · 5 years

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Second Chances Pt.5 | JJK

↬ Pairing: idol!jungkook x reader

↬ Summary: Even though it scared you, you knew you couldn’t walk away again. Big Hit allowed you to go on tour with the boys but with the promise to keep your relationship with the boys hidden from the public eye. The saying “good things never last” rings true as rumors of a secret romance makes its way online and suddenly the boys lives are put under a microscope and threats start pouring in. Jungkook does everything in his power to make sure you’ll stay, but what happens when the one thing you feared most comes true? [sequel to Unexpected]

↬ Word Count: 3.3k

↬ Warning/Rating: None/T

↬ Genre: Romance/Friendship

↬ Part: Trailer | Prologue [1 / 2] | 1 | 1.5 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

You enjoyed the few days you were able to steal with JK. You ended up spending quite a bit of time alone while the boys finished promoting while they were in America. Their growth in popularity surprised you. The six months you spent trying to escape everything BTS, ended up being when they exploded globally.

You found yourself missing JK more and more, and the more time you spent with him you didn't know how the two of you could handle the distance. When the boys had interviews you stayed at the hotel waiting for them to come back. It was during one of those times that Bang PD dropped by JK’s room to talk to you.

“Are you enjoying your time here?” he asked with a smile as the two of you sat at the small table off to the side.

“Very much so...It’s been nice being able to see everyone again.” you gave him a hesitant smile. You weren’t sure why he had stopped by and your mind was thinking of all the worst scenarios. Would he ask you to stay away from JK and never talk to him again? The thought alone made your stomach sink.

“I know everyone has enjoyed seeing you again, especially Jungkook. The change in him since you’ve been here is astronomical. It’s been nice to have him smiling again and showing the passion he had lost during the time you two have been apart.”

You felt the need to interrupt, “Please know that I never meant to cause such a disruption within the group and staff. I thought I was doing the right thing for the both of us.” you looked down at your hands folded in your lap.

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty Y/N. I see why you did it and if it was anyone else I would have said that you probably did the right thing, but when Jungkook is passionate about something he’s all in. He doesn’t do anything halfway and when it comes you, you are everything to him. We had many talks throughout the whole time he was struggling and I came to realize just how important you were to him and that this wasn’t some meaningless relationship that wouldn’t last.” he gave you an encouraging smile. “I’m not here to be the bearer of bad news Y/N. It’s actually the opposite. I had a meeting with the staff about our next destination during this tour and all of them were very happy with the way you had handled the award show for all of us. I wanted to ask you if you would be interested in being a part of our team as an interpreter for the duration of the tour.”

Your eyes went wide with shock. A job offer was the last thing you expected to hear “...wait, what?” you stuttered.

He laughed, “I’m asking if you want to be the boy’s interpreter for the rest of the tour. This would mean you would travel with boys and the staff and help out anyone that needed it.”

You leaned back in your chair as you continued to try and wrap your head around what he was asking. Being an interpreter for Big Hit was a huge opportunity and you knew this type of opportunity didn’t come around very often. You were so excited to be able to have the opportunity to do something you loved and that would allow you to travel.

“Y/N this would allow you to be with Jungkook instead of having to be apart again, but I feel the need to remind you of my original request when the two of you came to me. If you do decide to be part of the tour then you both will have to make sure that the public doesn’t find out. We don’t want a dating scandal to surround the boys. We want the spotlight to be on their music and who they are as people, not about the fact they are dating someone. Please don’t misunderstand this as I don’t want the two of you together because that’s not what I'm saying. I think the two of you are great together, but I'm requesting this from a CEO standpoint.”

You understood why he requested that from the two of you, but it didn’t suck any less. Would going on tour with him cause distractions? Would you be able to handle the fans and what they say? Would the stress of the tour cause strain on your relationship? A million thoughts were going through your mind to the point that forming an answer was difficult.

“How about you think about it and you let me know?” He stood up and you looked up at him.

You watched as he turned to leave, “Wait!” his hand hovered over the door handle. “I’ll do it. I’ll be an interpreter for Big Hit.” you blurted out. Apparently, your heart knew what it wanted because you felt like you hadn’t decided yet, but the thought of giving up the opportunity and not seeing JK for a while scared you.

Bang PD turned and smiled at you, “I will tell them to get the paperwork ready and you can sign it later today.”

“Is it okay if I'm the one that tells him?” you felt excitement at getting to see his face when he found out.

“Of course. I’ll make sure to tell the staff to keep it a secret for now.”

“Thank you.” you stood and bowed deeply.

He smiled and left the room after telling you that the boys are done with the schedules and should be back soon. You decided to lay on the bed and let everything that just happened sink in even more. You couldn’t believe that you just landed your dream job and it allowed you to be next to JK. It didn’t take long before you sobered up and realized that you were going to have to tell your parents that you were leaving again and you weren’t sure when you would be back since Big Hit was constantly adding more dates because the demand for tickets is so high. You closed your eyes and sighed, hopefully, your mother would take it better the second time around. You still remembered her break down over you no longer living there after you decided to stay even longer than you originally planned. You couldn’t help that you fell in love with more than just Korea.

You heard a beep and knew that JK was back from the interviews. Both of you smiled when your eyes connected. You still had a flutter in your stomach every time you saw him. The saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ is totally true. JK dropped everything he was holding and crawled on the bed and pulled you to lay down and wrapped his arms and legs around you. “I feel like my brain is mush after all those interviews. I really should have studied English more.”

You laughed and ran your fingers through his hair. You knew the struggle of foreign languages and their sudden rise in western popularity caused all of them to have to sharpen their English skills in a short period. “It gets better, plus you have me here.”

JK buried his face in your neck, “Having you here is the best thing ever, but I can’t take you to interviews with me.” His head shot up startling you, “Oh! We can lock the interpreter in a closet somewhere and you can pose as our interpreter.” he nodded to himself, “I like this plan.”

You looked at him with a knowing smile and it solidified your feelings over going on tour with them. “When do you guys leave?” The smile and happiness fell from his face quickly as the awful truth came up.

JK ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, “Tomorrow.” you felt bad for making him feel this way but you really wanted to surprise him and giving such good news after bad news was the best thing you could think of. “Can we go and beg the staff to find some more interviews? I’ll torture myself with English for a whole day if it gave me just a few more hours with you. He looked in your eyes and your heart skipped a beat. He had always made you feel so loved even when he wasn’t trying.

“Well…” you let your statement hang in the air until he raised an eyebrow waiting for you to continue, “what if I just accept Bang PD’s job offer of being an interpreter for Big Hit for the rest of the tour?”

He sat up quickly and looked down at you, “What?”

You sat up so you were eye level with him, “Bang PD came here to talk to me less than an hour ago. He offered me a job to work as an interpreter for the staff during the rest of the tour. I mean I don’t know what will happen after that or if--”

You were surging forward before and before you could completely register what happened your lips crashed into his. You expected words from him but the feeling of his lips moving on yours spoke louder than words. He pulled you closer and broke the kiss to put his forehead against yours.

“Please tell me I didn’t hear you wrong,” he whispered desperately.

“You didn’t hear me wrong,” you said squashing his worries.

You had been surprised before when he pulled you into a kiss but that seemed miniscule compared to now. He pulled you closer and flipped the both of you over so he was on top of you. He caged you in underneath him and the air around the two of you changed when your eyes met. “I love you.” He leaned down and placed his lips on yours. This kiss was different than any of the other kisses the two of you had shared. Most of them being rushed but passionate kisses or quick pecks here and there. Instead of you being against a hotel room wall your back was pressed against the bed and kissed you deeply. As if all the feelings he had kept stored away because of the circumstances was now flooding out and you felt overwhelmed.

He positioned himself so he could slide his fingers into your hair and you felt a light tug causing you to moan and you could feel him fisting the comforter beneath you. Your fingers were itching to touch him so you ran your hands up his arms as he continued to kiss you deepening it even more. This is what happiness felt like and it felt good to finally feel at home again. You had never been so sure of a decision as he pulled back and looked down at you and smiled. Seeing the pure happiness in his eyes made everything the two of you went through to get to this moment worth it. You knew that you never wanted to be a part from him again and made a promise that you would do everything to make sure the two of you never had to experience that pain again.

AN: I know it’s been forever since I updated this story and I’m so sorry! I had major writer's block with it. I'm going to do my best to try and not have so much time between this and ch.6. I hope you all enjoyed it and it was worth the wait!

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robronsecretsanta · 5 years

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(we will be together) if the fates allow. pt. 1

for @raelee514 aaron/robert a coffee shop AU in three parts

ao3 link

“Careful with that one,” Ellis muttered as he squeezed through the door next to him and struggled to untie the knot in the back of his apron in a hurry to finally get home for the holidays. “Proper Christmas Grinch,” he clarified, giving a subtle-not-so-subtle nod towards a bloke sitting on the corner table at the window with his back towards them, head buried deep in his laptop and an extra large cup of coffee on hand.

“Probably, cause you‘re so charming, eh?” Aaron smirked at him before pulling his dark woolen bobble hat off. It was dripping now that the warmth of the coffee shop had started to work against the dozens of snowflakes that Aaron had brought in with him and he couldn‘t help himself but try and shake some of the drops of water out right against the younger man‘s face.

Ellis‘ corresponding eye-roll earned him a well-meant slap to the back.

Grumpy facade aside, Aaron was the kind of boss who‘d fight a war for his employees, if need be. Especially when faced with some snotty baby boomer, who enjoyed getting offended by just the thought of having to wait in a line for a full three minutes when coming into the shop right at the “last chance to get caffeine before university starts” rush hour of eight forty-five, or some hipster-y part-time-vegan philosophy student who got a kick out of sending back half-eaten cookies five times over for tasting too sweet or too artificial in the hopes of bagging himself a free meal. But that aside, they both knew that - a lot like Aaron himself - Ellis tended to have quite the mouth on him when someone rubbed him the wrong way.

Even more so when he was working the much hated Christmas Eve shift.

Once Ellis had disappeared to his locker to pack it in for the day, Aaron grabbed his own apron and pulled it over his head, giving the machines and the bakery display a quick once-over before taking his place at the counter to face the last few hours of the Christmas shift.

He never much minded it to be honest.

Being his own boss had been Aaron‘s dream ever since he had had to earn his first few pennies as a mechanic under Cain‘s hard-nosed look. All his dodgy ways aside, his uncle had always taken his business incredibly seriously and while Aaron had respected that and had found it something to look up to, 16-year-old him would have respected getting to decide on his own lunch hours and ending up with more than a tenner in his pocket after spending a full eight hours under a bonnet in the burning August heat even more.

And this shop had been his chance at all of that and more. So when the opportunity had come up a little over a year ago, with one of their old customers declaring over a broken shock mount that he was about to move to Germany to make a go of it with his bird and leave his old shop behind without a new owner in sight, Aaron‘s ears had perked up.

Yes, he had only been 25 and yes he hadn‘t know a thing about running a business, but he had loved tea ever since he could remember - a good cuppa sometimes being the only bright spot in his day back when those had consisted of nothing but screaming matches and trouble - and he barely went a day without coffee since an ex-boyfriend of his had dragged him to France for a couple of months, his relationship with the caffeinated liquid the only one that had made it back up north without ending up in tatters.

So he had scoured every savings account and sock for every last penny of his savings. And when that hadn‘t been enough, he had swallowed most of his pride and gotten himself a half-decent loan with the help of his family. Because say what you like about the Dingles, but for what often seemed like a mismatched bunch of thugs and simpletons from the outside, they had always been exceptionally good at coming together to support their own. And they could be incredibly resourceful when need be as well. (Though to this day Aaron would rather not know where Cain and Charity had dug up their respective shares.)

Which was how he had ended up here now.

With a shop of his own, working on Christmas Eve of all days and enjoying every minute of it in a way he never thought he would, the constant grinding of the coffee machines behind him and the bitter smell of caffeine in the air calming his usually so busy mind in a way he‘d never expected it to, but treasured all the more for it. Keeping his shop open for most of the Christmas holiday, even if not as long as usual, had been the one of Aaron‘s best ideas to date. Those days always earning him a few new customers, searching souls who had been let down by all the usual chains and ended up stumbling into the little corner shop in desperate need of a cuppa or maybe just a bit of peace and quiet.

Aaron could relate.

Especially to the latter one, when he himself still had a classic Christmas Dingle do ahead of him later in the evening.

It was why he always liked to send the boys home earlier than usual on Christmas Eve and end the shift all by himself. His place behind the counter had somehow become Aaron‘s own little oasis of calm, carved out for himself amidst the holiday rush.

“Seriously, mate,“ Matty chimed in in a whisper from his place at the till after having overheard the exchange between Aaron and Ellis, dragging his boss from his daydream with it. “He‘s been sitting there since half nine this morning, complaining about everything like a right muppet and with a face like someone‘s just run over his favourite cat and his grandma in one go.” It came out as an annoyed sigh.

There was a quick pause before he added, “could give yours a run for its money, I reckon.”

Aaron furrowed his brows at him and turned to take a closer look at the bloke.

He didn‘t seem like your typical troublemaker, but the light brown elbow patches adorning his dark blue blazer and the thick, black coat hanging over the back of his chair that looked like it might have cost more than Aaron made in a month gave him just enough of an air of poshness to make him the type to complain about his cappuccino only being topped by one instead of the recommended 1.5 inches of foam. And yet there was also something familiar and warm about the man and the way he kept running his hand through his wild blond hair in frustration, strands sticking up in every direction at the back of his head.

Not enough though to make Aaron dismiss Matty‘s judgement out of hand.

Unlike for Ellis, this wasn‘t Matty‘s first stint as a barista. He had survived two years at the local Starbucks before Aaron had taken him on, which meant that he had spent two entire years of his life selling completely overpriced muck to every customer imaginable and somehow keeping a straight face when asked for such atrocities as Unicorn Frappuccinos with almond milk, 6 shots and no whip.

So there usually was absolutely nothing a customer could do to truly put Matty off.

(It was also the reason Aaron had earned himself a massive, unwanted hug from him when he‘d explained that his plan was to just sell coffee and tea, the menu no carrying a single beverage with more than five syllables in its name, nor anything pumpkin spice or snickerdoodle flavoured, thank you very much.)

Which meant that if Matty called someone difficult, they had to be an absolute nightmare.

—

Robert‘s phone started to vibrate yet again with the fifth video call request from Victoria in as many hours. Before that it has just been a slew of text messages, but his little sister had always been incredibly determined when need be so the chances of her giving up any time soon were minimal to say the least.

Robert had tried.

He really had.

Because it was Christmas and he loved his sister. But also because, as much as he didn‘t ever want to admit it out loud, the loneliness of the bachelor life he had suddenly found himself forced into was starting to eat away at him.

So he had ordered a ridiculous amount of presents for Vic and Diane online and let them eat away at his savings in an attempt to make up for lost time. Had folded his nicest shirts neatly and ironed all his pants before putting them into his travel bag. He had showered and shaved and - for what was probably the first time in the month since he had had to ditch the slightly upscale room in a B&B he had called home for almost half a year in favour of a tiny one-bedroom apartment for lack of funds - put some effort into his hair instead of just letting it greasily stick to his forehead, because he couldn‘t even be bothered about the pizza delivery guy realising what a mess of a human he really was. Not that the four orders a week hadn‘t already been a dead giveaway anyway.

And then he had stuffed everything into his car to drive. The fact alone that he had gotten into the front seat with a direction in mind, instead of yet again only having an aimless drive with the only purpose of making the night go by a little faster ahead of him had been enough to put a smile on his face, so he had turned up some Top100 station on the radio and sung along to Cher and Chris Rae in full force. And then he‘d driven out of Leeds and onto the highway and as the sky got darker around him and snowflakes started to dribble onto his windshield until he could barely see the street ahead of him Chris Rae started to sing about all the memories he was driving home for Christmas with just that one time too many for Robert not to remember that in actuality he would far prefer it to drive as far away from all those memories as his Porsche would take him, then to let them hit him again with full force.

So he had left the highway and stopped at the first Motel he could find.

In Hotten.

Not Emmerdale.

Because deep down underneath all the charm and his own illusion of grandeur, Robert had always been a coward at heart and Hotten‘s town sign had been as far as he could manage to drive before it had felt as if his stomach was about to turn with the images that were burning in his mind. Old ones of his dad screaming at him with a red face and wide eyes, of belts with silver metal buckles and burning barns.

But also new ones.

Scenarios that hadn‘t played out in front of him yet, but that his mind enjoyed to torture him with anyway as if they were absolutely certainties. Unavoidable horrors yet to come. Like the disappointment Robert was bound to find in Diane‘s eyes the moment he would take a step through her door or the footless guilt that Victoria would try to hide behind bitten lips and red cheeks for not having been a shoulder to lean on, as if Robert would have let her anyway.

His phone beeped again and he turned it on its screen just so he wouldn‘t have to look at Vic‘s smiling face looking up at him from it anymore.

God, he needed another coffee.

—

It took almost an hour before Aaron got to really meet the guy that Matty and Ellis had been so happy to throw their “asshole of the month” award at after only spending a mere six hours in his presence.

Aaron had made himself comfortable at table closest to the sales counter with the books spread out in front of him, gnawing on the cap of his ballpoint pen. It was almost four now and the shop was even quieter now than it had been an hour ago, the only customers a young couple completely oblivious to the world around them with their ankles wrapped around each other under the table and their noses almost buried in their respective hot chocolates and the apparent Christmas Grinch who hadn‘t moved from his place in the corner. It had been the perfect opportunity for Aaron to try and get a handle on his budget for the new year, or so he thought.

He had only been lost in thought for a minute or two - the year of running his own place not enough to have stopped numbers and calculations from giving him a right headache just like they had back in school - when the blond was bellowing, his voice carrying through the room and almost making Aaron jump.

“Can anyone around here be bothered to actually work and serve a half decent cup of coffee, for fuck‘s sake?” Out of the corner of his eye, Aaron see him standing at the opposite side of the counter now, one hand grabbing its top tightly as he leaned over and tried to peer into the backroom in hopes of finding someone to yell at the other waving his empty coffee cup. Seemingly, he hadn‘t noticed Aaron hunched over at his table yet, though that wasn‘t all that surprising with all the colourful Christmas decorations that Matty and Ellis had outvoted him on and the till obscuring the view.

“Just a minute, mate.”

Aaron had been doing this for long enough now to know when to pull his best fake-happy customer service voice out of his bag of tricks and this was just it. Calmly, he pushed his chair back and got up, dropping the pen onto the table without a care as he took a deep breath and plastered an overly kind smile onto his face before he turned to face the his new least favourite customer.

The corners of his mouth dropped as quickly as he‘d pulled them upwards as his eyes were met with green-blue ones, high cheekbones and a nose scattered with freckles that he couldn‘t make out with the distance that the counter was putting between the two of them, but could have drawn a map of in his sleep anyway for having spent so many restless nights in hotel rooms softly tracing them with his ring finger in a desperate attempt to commit every inch of the man to memory.

“Robert.”

It wasn‘t a question, just a whisper thrown into the space between them, low and unbelieving.

“Aaron.”

#long post #robron #robron fanfiction #robron secret santa #raelee514

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just-anka · 5 years

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I spontaneously decided to do a local trail 10k race this Sunday and I’m so glad I did, it was amazing! I haven’t done any specific training for it at all and I’m coming off my little winter break, plus I’ve barely run hills for the past ~1.5 months (at least not in the way you need for running in the peaks - my long run last week had almost 300m of elevation gain but that’s basically nothing here), so I normally would have a) not signed up for the race or b) decided to just take it easy. Today I decided to be brave and go all out, and I did! I aimed for sub 1h, which I missed by just under 2 mins, but I tried really hard and that’s all that matters. The course is apparently a bit longer than 10k too, my watch says 10.3 km and the people I ran with who have done it several times agree that theirs usually do too. It was also just so much fun, literally the most beautiful course, even though we had to do two laps I didn’t mind at all. I was freezing cold at the starting line and started off relatively fast trying to warm myself up, but it starts with a very gentle downhill and I was constantly stuck behind people on the single trail. Especially annoying was the wait at a gate where I stood for almost a full minute, still freezing and watching my goal pace tick by >.> but after that it got better, had a lot of fun on a very muddy, more technical section in the woods. The first uphill felt amazing, I was gasping for breath by the end of it but I ran all of it! And recovered very well on the flat/gentle downhill before the second hill. That one was harder but I still ran all of it. Then there was a turn into the full-on (30ish km/h today) headwind which I ran into feeling badass. After a short downhill-ish section in the wood I crossed the finish line, starting the second lap. I cruised the downhill this time, talking to another runner for a while and accidentally ending up with a 4:50 split in the process :’D I told him to go on just before the hill because I wanted to recover a bit for the hill and actually walked a part of the very muddy section, which was a mistake because my legs seized up and my morale went steeply downhill. I did make it up most of the hill running though so I was really proud of that. Also passed the guy I had run with on the downhill haha. The second hill was a lot less fun - I walked quite a bit, then started running again at the top. The push into the headwind felt INSANE this time around and I was struggling so hard. Just before the last downhill I overtook one last person, and she was on my heels for the rest of the bit before the finish line which gave me the strength to go all out into the finish – the split for the last 0.3 km was actually 4:20 like whaaat. I felt like I gave everything while doing it but recovered very fast after and thinking back, I was happily chatting to that other runner in the beginning of lap 2 while running a sub 5 km, so I probably could’ve gone harder. Which is the main reason I do long tempo runs in training – because they help set me up mentally. I’m actually looking forward to “properly” training again soon and will start building mileage back in the next few weeks :) still, this was great to see as a baseline, and I’m mostly just happy with how much fun it was too. (Also just found massive blood blisters under both of my big toes and have no idea why, no new shoes or anything, and basically running is a very glamorous sport.)

I followed the race up with brunch with my girl gang and it was the most blissful day <3 (feel the need to mention that there’s non-vegan food in the picture which I obvi didn’t eat, my friends just aren’t all vegan - I did make us vegan pancakes that everybody loved though!)

#running #myrunning #trailrunning #trail running #personal #sheffield #peak district #longshaw #10k #trail race #racing #abroadadventure #vegan runners #vegan #brunch #runners #Runner

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asphalt-cocktail · 5 years

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Mortui Vivos Docent Part 4

A/N: Wow sorry I am such garbage and haven’t updated in SO LONG. I had really terrible writers' block for this story and I had no idea where to go with it. But I had a sudden inspiration! I hope you like the cameo of characters I have in right now, they will be major players in the coming chapters. Not much happens, but I promise I am planting seeds for the future chapters, this one is really long and I’m sorry; it took me 3 days to write this and I wanted to include a lot of stuff in it but not break it into different chapters because I was too lazy and it all kept coming out. I am on a roll right now so hopefully, a new chapter will be up soon!

Pairing: Cop!Steve Rogers x Deaf!OC

Warnings: Mentions of gore and death, slow burn, Cop!AU. fluff, not proofread

Word count: 4217

Masterlist

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<<<Part 3 Part 5>>>

The flickering of the disgustingly bright fluorescent lights caused Florence’s eyes to ache. She had been going over her pathology report for the last two hours trying to find out what had caused her patients stomach to blister from the inside out. She groaned before an uncharacteristic flicker caused her to jump and turn around. It was Dr. Strange, “Yes sir?” She asked.

“We have a field assignment.” He said holding her jacket out.

Florence quickly scrambled to her feet and gathered the supply bag and grabbed her jacket, putting it on as they left the basement, the van police scanner read back the conditions of the body and Florence struggled to make out words, she scrunched her nose in frustration “The details are always better at the scene.” Dr. Strange said noticing her frustration.

Florence nodded her head “Yeah, you’re right.”

Soon after they arrived at the scene, it was in the poorer part of town where gang violence was common, they were greeted with flashing lights from the fire department, police crew, and ambulance. A kid, probably 16 or 17 was screaming as he was strapped into a stretcher “I didn’t do it! I promise.” He said, his face was caked in blood and he was obviously in shock.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to calm down.” The paramedic said while he was lifted into the back of the ambulance.

Florence averted her eyes to not be rude and focused her attention on the officer that was taking notes and gathering evidence.

“What have we got?” She asked walking up to James

“We have an apparent teenage female and male both have received multiple injuries,” James said grimly.

“I need you to be more specific, what do you mean multiple injuries,” Florence asked and looked over his shoulder, she wasn’t able to see the bodies yet, but there were horrific amounts of blood splattered on the ground.

James let out a sigh, not one out of irritation, but more out of remorse “We can’t tell.” He said softly and turned to take her to the bodies.

When Florence saw them, she understood, they had been so battered it was hard to even make out their faces. Dr. Strange caught up to her and let out the same sigh Bucky did. They each knelt down at separate bodies “Any ID on either?” Strange asked.

“No, no IDs. The kid that is alive is being transported to the hospital and is being treated for defensive wounds and a slew of other things.” James responded.

Florence looked at the girl in front of her and shook her head and decided to do a temperature reading “These are really fresh, like within two hours the body has only gone down to 34 .5 Celsius.” Florence looked at her watch and back over to James “When was the first 911 call placed?” She asked.

James flipped through his little note pad and then looked at his watch “Around 15 minutes ago. It took us around 3 minutes to arrive and now here we are.” He said.

Nodding her head Florence looked at Dr. Strange “The average body loses 1.5 degrees every hour and she has lost 3 degrees. They’ve been dead for 2 hours and the first call came in 15 minutes ago and its broad daylight?” Florence asked.

Dr. Strange stood up and wrote on his field report “It’s not our job to find out why people took so long to call authorities,” he said curtly “TOD is at 12:17 PM for the male. He died before the female did.”

Florence scrunched her nose up, an hour before the female did? What the hell did this person do? Make them watch? She shook her head, Dr. Strange was right, it wasn’t their job to figure out the logistics behind the murder, only the cause of death. “Time of death for the teenage female is 1:30 PM. We’ll transport them to lab and get a better look at them there.” Florence said before stuffing her field notes into her bag.

This had been the first time Florence had ever been called to a trial. She nervously stood in the bathroom and ran her fingers through her hair and tugged at her blazer, she walked out and was greeted by Steve. They had been seeing each other, nothing too major, just going out for a few drinks after work here and there and occasionally spending the night just to sleep. It was… wholesome. And that was what Florence needed right now, “Come on, Flo, you look great.” Steve said smiling beneath his scruff.

Florence shrugged her shoulders “I haven’t been put on trial before. What am I supposed to even do?” She asked sighing.

Steve gave her a comforting squeeze on the shoulder “Just be honest and deliver the facts.” He said and pulled her into a quick side hug. Fraternization while in the work place was a no go for Steve, so the sudden affection was welcomed and helped ease her nerves.

Despite her hearing aids, Florence was still given an interpreter which was nice given the amount of people she would have to pay attention to. Talking in loud crows was not one of her favorite things, it was hard to listen to more than one person at a time and often overwhelmed her.

“The prosecution would like to call Dr. Florence Solomon to the stand.” A man dressed in a well tailored suit called her up.

Nervously she stood up and walked through the little gate and into the stand, she went through the procedures before the cross examination began. “Now, Dr. Solomon, would you please give a brief description of what you found in our two victims. Start with the female.” He asked standing in front of her.

Florence watched her interpreter and nodded her head “Right, well we arrived at the scene and found the 16-year-old victim, Dana Suarez in the grass behind the house, internal temperature of her body suggested that she died around an hour after the second victim.”

The prosecuting lawyer clicked on a little remote in his hand and pictures of the autopsy showed the mangled grey corpse of the girl, “Would you mind explaining pre and post mortem wounds, as well as the cause of death.”

Florence nodded her head and swallowed thickly, she was nervous, “So we counted 14 stab wounds throughout the victim’s torso, face, neck, and arms 6 of these were done before death and the other 8 were done after death and the wounds on Ms. Suarez’s hands were defensive in nature. The victim also had scratches along her face and neck that measured at 5.23 centimeters, 5.17 centimeters, and 7.68 centimeters in length. The cause of death was a combination of profuse bleeding and severing of the jugular vein.” She let out a long shaky breath.

“Is there any other evidence that you found on our first victim that we have not covered Dr. Solomon?”

“Yes, Ms. Suarez was found with skin and blood beneath her fingernails that indicated a struggle and that she fought whoever had attacked her. The DNA matched that of the defendant’s and there were also trace amounts of marijuana and cocaine in her system.”

“Now what about our second male victim?”

“The second victim’s name is 17-year-old Shaun Jackson. He was found at the same location as Ms. Suarez, however his time of death was an hour before at 12:17 PM. He received 17 stab wounds, also along his face, neck, torso, and arms 7 were before death and 10 were post mortem. The cause of death was asphyxiation from the collapsing of the left lung. He was also found with defensive stab wounds on his hands and had trace amounts of cocaine and marijuana in his system before death.” Florence glanced past the Prosecutor and looked at Steve for reassurance, he gave her a smile and nodded, she let out a sigh of relief.

The prosecutor turned to address the jury “Now as you can see from the images and description given to us by Dr. Solomon, these two victims are two children who ended up getting mixed up with the wrong crowd of people, it caused them to spiral down a path of drug abuse. However, their mistakes with the law do not excuse the fact that Mr. Andre Marshall had to continuously stab them until their faces remained disfigured and their poor families now need to have closed casket funerals-”

“Objection your honor, the prosecution is waving the bloody shirt,” the defendant said abruptly standing up.

The judge hit the gavel “The jury with disregard the previous statement given by Attorney Jacobs, and Attorney Jacobs, please keep to the facts.” She said gruffly.

“Yes, your honor.” The prosecutor said nodding his head respectfully, “Ms. Suarez had defensive wounds with the defendant’s DNA in them, as well as the murder weapon and house covered in his finger prints. These two teenagers simple were mixed in with the wrong crowd of people, but they should not be overlooked due to their past addictions. I ask you to please bring justice to Shaun and Dana and their families. That is all your honor.”

“The defense may now cross examine the witness.” The judge stated.

Florence sighed, she still couldn’t get up just yet.

There were two defense attorneys, odd, she thought. The first one stood up, he had dark hair, scruff and appeared to be blind. “Dr. Solomon, tell me about yourself.”

Florence shifted in her seat “Well, I graduated from New York University- Langone and I have been working for the NYPD for the 7 months now, I have also been practicing for 7 months.” She stated.

The defense nodded his head and hummed “I see.” He said “Now, I don’t want you to have to go over and repeat all of the information you told the prosecution and cause the families sand jury to relive that trauma again. But, I do want to ask you in your expert opinion what build do you think one would have to be in order to cause such massive overkill?” He said now stopped right in front of her seated area.

Florence nodded her head “Well, I would expect someone well over 6 feet, that is consistent with the angle of the stab wounds coming in at a downward angle verses an upward or perpendicular angle with where their locations were. In order to be able to subdue two teenagers who were healthy despite their drug use would need a massive amount of strength.” In her honest opinion, she didn’t think the scrawny, terrified 17-year-old boy sitting in front of her could possibly be capable of killing two people with that much rage even if he was given all of the drugs in the world.

“And can you also inform us of what the effects of mixing cocaine and marijuana are?” he asked.

Florence thought for a moment “Cocaine is an upper, while marijuana is a depressant, your body is working against you it causes heart racing, paranoia, your blood pressure to rise, maybe even a little bit of hallucinating depending on how intense your paranoia is and ultimately it can cause death.”

“Now, I am not saying that they both died of heart attacks or a dangerous cocktail of drugs, because we know those are not the facts. But what we do now is that my client previous stated that Ms. Suarez began to act erratically and lash out, when my client tried to restrain her they ended in a small scuffle that caused the scratches to be on Ms. Suarez, and the DNA of Mr. Marshall to be found under her nails. My client Mr. Marshall is 17-years-old is 5’7” and weighs 125 pounds so there is no way he would have never been able to subdue Ms. Suarez and Mr. Jackson. The accredited medical profession who is sitting here stated it as plain as day that a man of much significant size would have had to be present and commit the crimes. We lost the lives of two kids who barely had enough time to live their lives, and I beg you to see the facts and not allow another’s to be thrown into the American Prison system and wrongfully accused.”

Finally. Someone who saw some sense in the case. She knew there had to have been one more person in that room with them, the poor kid is probably terrified the same will happen to him if he rats.

“Dr. Solomon, you may be seated.” The judge said. A security officer escorted her back to her seat next to Steve and James, “We will have recess until the jury has reached a verdict.”

Florence leaned back and cracked her back against the stiff wooden seat “You did great up there!” Steve grinned.

Florence looked at her feet and stood up, sighing “I felt like if I said anything wrong, I could have changed the whole outcome of the case.” She said and ran a hand through her hair.

“First time at a trial?” A voice asked behind her. Steve tapped her shoulder and pointed at the two defense attorneys.

“Was it that obvious?” She asked laughing lightly

“Honestly, no, you held yourself very well up there. Foggy Nelson and my partner Matt Murdock.” He said offering a hand out.

“Ah well you already knew me.” She said gripping his hand.

Steve let out a curt head nod, defense attorneys and police officers didn’t typically get along, however they remained civil.

Matt smiled politely and nodded his head “So Foggy told me you had an interpreter up there. It is honestly refreshing to see someone successful that also has a disability. Sometimes it gets overwhelming having people who don’t understand or undermine you.”

His bluntness was surprising, but refreshing Florence liked it and agreed with him “Yeah, it definitely is.” She responded.

“So, Mr. Rogers? Is it?” Matt asked.

“Captain Rogers.” He corrected.

“Right. Captain Rogers, I heard it through the grape vine that one of the cases has been handed over to the PD?” He inquired.

Steve’s eyes widened “Are you crazy? Keep it down, that case is supposed to be low profile now. Can’t talk about it.”

Matt nodded his head “Right…” He said in a drawn-out fashion that proved he didn’t believe a thing Steve had just said, we aren’t picking up the case, but if you would like to stop by our office later tomorrow we would be glad to discuss a few things with you and Dr. Solomon.” Foggy held out a simple business card and Steve accepted it.

“Thank you, we’ll be in touch.” He said and began to return to his seat.

“All rise, the Court of New York City, Honorable Judge Wilson is now presiding.” The bailiff said.

The judge entered and sat at her seat and hit the gavel “You may be seated.”

Florence hadn’t noticed, but roughly an hour of deliberating had passed. “Has the jury reached a verdict?” The judge asked once all of the members filed into the room and were seated.

The juror at the very end stood up and held out a piece of paper “We find the defendant Andre Marshall, not guilty.” She said nervously.

Florence let out a puff of air as the Marshall family wept tears of joy and the Suarez and Jackson family wept tears of anguish. James and Steve shook their heads, the case was still open, which means that the search was still on for the man who did this.

Later the next day after much paperwork Florence, Steve, James, and Clint went down to Hell’s Kitchen to visit Nelson and Murdock. It was a small office in a small shabby building “Andre, please if you have any other information, the police will keep you safe from whoever did this.” The voices could be heard pleading from the other side of the glass door.

The kid responded in a muffled voice before they said their goodbyes and left awkwardly out the door “Oh, hey, we weren’t expecting you this early.” Foggy said running a hand through his long hair “Please, come in.” He said opening the door wider.

The office was almost bare, you could tell they were still a budding practice, “So, tell us what you know about the case.” Steve said bluntly

“Wow, you like to skip around pleasantries.” Foggy said and held out a pot of coffee and offered it. Clint and Florence both took a cup.

“Well we know it has an impressive list of suspects.” Matt said leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. “Rumlow, Pierce, Stern”

Steve narrowed his eyes and looked at Matt and Foggy “How do you two know that?”

Foggy shrugged his shoulders “Being a defense lawyer has its perks.”

Clint liked how these two worked, they knew a lot and he knew that they weren’t telling them this for no reason. “Why are you telling us this, what else do you know?” He asked.

“Well, we want to know what you know.” Matt said smiling lightly.

“So, you invited us to compare notes?” James asked frowning.

Matt shrugged his shoulders, “I mean yeah, why not, we both want to take them down. There is no way in hell we are representing their case.”

Steve let out a sigh “Tell them about the autopsy, Flo.”

Florence nodded her head, she had brought pictures of the file with her. She didn’t want to take the whole file, it was way too risky “I have pictures of the report I typed up, I took them before I gave it to Director Fury, just be warned there are pictures of the body I had to examine in it.” she said sliding her smart phone across the table.

Foggy picked it up and grimaced at the images “What is it?” Matt asked noticing a shift in his friend’s demeanor.

“Well, it’s a badly decomposed body, ah, that’s about all I can stomach looking at right now.” He said sliding it back.

“The bruising around the victim’s neck happened before death and was a little bigger than the length of the average human hand, when I opened the neck there were hairline fractures in the vertebra around the neck. This means he was held underwater and struggled immensely against someone who was significantly stronger than he was and wanted him to stay under until he was dead.” Florence explained swiping through the pictures to refresh her memories. “We couldn’t get the time of death, it’s incredibly hard to tell when they are decomposing in water. But judging by the waxy and flaky skin that was literally sliding off the victim I would say he’s been in there more than a month.”

Matt scrunched his nose up and frowned “Anything else?” He asked.

Florence elbowed Steve and urged him to continue “We did a steak out at their place and noticed that Stern lives near the Hudson river and he and Rumlow had a meeting when we were watching them. So we sent someone to bug their phones.”

Foggy grinned “Shit you bugged their phones? Is that even legal?” he asked.

James had crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged his shoulders “I mean, what they are doing isn’t very legal either…” He said trailing off.

“So, now what do you know?” Clint asked.

“Well, all we have right now is lawyer gossip.” Foggy started “Rumlow is their pawn, he’s weak and they can afford to lose him that’s why they have him. We don’t know if any other of the officers are in on it, but they already have a lawyer for representation, his name is Parish Landman; he is a pretty high-profile lawyer.”

James smirked “Why didn’t they ask you to do it?” He asked smugly.

Matt frowned “They did ask us… But we don’t represent people who we know for a fact are guilty.” He said curtly.

Florence nodded her head, that was admirable of them. “After I conducted the autopsy, Mayor Stark came in and gave the whole case to the FBI.” She said frowning lightly,

“Damn,” Foggy said “That really puts us in a rut. Especially since we can’t do much with it in the FBI’s hands.”

“We have been talking with Stark’s intern Peter to keep up to date on the case but so far even he hasn’t had anything.” Steve added

“Parker?” Matt asked, “He’s a good kid, we run into him around City Hall whenever we make our way down there.”

Florence looked at Steve “What if we didn’t use him for information on the case? He works in the same area as the Senator, this is a whole new idea and way to look at the case!” She said getting excited and pulling her phone out, she started a facetime with Peter, he answered surprisingly quick.

“Hey Doctor Flo!” Peter said waving at the camera.

“Hey Peter! Do you have a minute to talk? I have a favor to ask.” She said smiling.

Peter looked around and bit his lip “Let me put my head phones in quick.”

“Ask him about the thing.” James said nudging Florence.

Florence shrugged James off and shushed him, “Sounds like there are a lot of people there, Doc, who’s all there?” He asked curiously.

“Ah, the usual Clint, James, Steve, there are some new people too-” she said before Foggy snatched the phone from her.

“Hey Pete!” Foggy said grinning, he looked over at Matt “Peter is waving at us right now and smiling.”

Matt smiled and gave the camera a curt nod “Peter.” He said

“Oh, hey Foggy! Hey Matt! Wow Dr. Solomon I didn’t know you knew Foggy and Matt that’s so cool.” He said through the phone screen.

Florence took her phone back and looked at Peter “Okay so you remember that case?” she asked. Peter nodded nervously “Do you have access to Senator Stern’s information?” She danced around her words hesitant to say them.

Peter swallowed thickly “I mean… Personally no, but I’m sure I can see Ned and Shuri and talk with them about it.” He said trying to be as vague as possible.

“Thanks Peter! I really appreciate it!” She said grinning and waving at him as she ended the call.

They gathered their things and Florence walked to Steve’s car while the rest of the group parted ways. Florence leaned back in her seat and ran her fingers through her hair “Steve what the hell are we going to do? We can get in so much trouble doing this.” She said and covered her eyes.

Steve reached over and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Flo, it’ll be okay I promise.” He said in a comforting voice.

Florence looked up with a deep frown on her face “Steve, I wasn’t made to do police field work, I was made to stay in the dark depth of the police station and look at dead bodies and give families closure.” She clenched her eyes shut “I have to give the family of whoever that man was closure, someone is out there not knowing what happened to their loved one and Tony Stark isn’t letting us do that!” She said getting more flustered.

Steve pulled her tightly against his chest, she tried to pull away, still flustered, but melted into his arms like butter. Her breathing calmed “Florence you are an amazing Medical Examiner and you are a crucial part of every police investigation, Tony Stark took the case from us, but you were still able to do as much as you could to help the family. It’s up to the FBI examiner now.” He said and kissed the top of her forehead warmly.

Florence huffed against Steve’s chest, her voice was muffled in his arms “I know,” She said softly “Peter is going to help, and so is everyone else.”

---

The next morning at work she was greeted with an unfamiliar face “Hello,” She said hanging her coat on the rack “You’re not Dr. Strange.” She joked

“No, I’m Doctor Reed Richards, I work with the FBI and do their autopsies.” He said looking through the file he had in his hands. He was a tall man with brown hair that was streaked with flecks of gray and his forehead was wrinkled with worry lines.

“Nice to meet you Dr. Richards. I’m Doctor Florence Solomon.” She said trying to hold back her frown.

So, this was the dick that would be taking all of the credit on here report.

Stephen walked out from his private office and felt the tension in the air while Dr. Richards seemed oblivious to it “Dr. Solomon, I see you’ve met Dr. Richards.” He said curtly “Mayor Stark has given him full reign of our lab to conduct further investigation on the drowning case.” He informed.

Florence arched her eyebrows “Wonderful, happy to have you. Please let us know if you have any questions.” She said busying herself with work, she made sure to stay in range in case she picked anything up that she could tell Steve and Clint later on.

#Steve Rogers #Steven Grant Rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x Deaf!OC #Chris Evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fic #MCU #Marvel MCU #Cop!AU #Cop!Steve Rogers

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drizzitwrites · 5 years

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Football RPF Challenge - Day 9: Cuddling

I’m officially renaming today’s prompt as “We started out on a short, simple, straightforward journey and ended up somewhere I never even meant to pass through on the way to our destination that is also NOWHERE near our destination, but whatever, it’s a nice place so I guess we’re just here now.”

Today's prompt was supposed to feature cuddling. This one should have been remarkably easy, or at least it seemed so on the surface before I actually started writing anything.

Basically, the plan for today was a short spin-off scene that may or may not actually get used in the fic it's intended for (but could get posted later as a related work maybe?) of Vincent's injury recovery and Christian cuddling up with him on the sofa instead of going to dinner with friends because Vincent’s been sleeping in a separate room to keep from waking Christian up and Christian misses him.

That is.......not what I wrote.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, I could get back there given some more time, but I took 1.5 hours to write what I have because I did that thing where I started a scene and then accidentally slid into a flashback (about things that happened like FIVE HOURS EARLIER, WTF, Drizz?). I thought about fixing it once I got back from the appointment I had to leave for, or at least finishing the scene and writing until we got to the point where Christian was actually there cuddling up with Vincent on the sofa, because (and I cannot stress the word *shouldn’t* enough here) it shouldn’t take much more to get us there.

BUT! I have things to do and would like to spend time with my SO, etc. so I decided to just post this as is. It doesn’t adhere to the prompt AT ALL, but there’s an object lesson here:

Sometimes writing is like this. Sometimes you sit down at the computer with a brilliantly clear idea of what you’re planning to write that day. You know everything that’s supposed to happen in the scene and you know the players and you know the motivations and you know all the things you are supposed to know and then...it doesn’t go that way.

And usually that’s frustrating, especially when what comes of it isn’t good or useful or taking you anywhere and you just feel like you had this plan and instead you couldn’t execute it and ended up with a bunch of worthless words and wasted hours. BUT! Sometimes it takes you to a place you didn’t think of, but you’re like...THIS SCENE THAT I HAD NO INTENTION OF CREATING HAS SO MUCH POTENTIAL AND I WANT TO EXPAND ON IT AND MAKE IT ITS OWN THING.

Basically, when your writing takes you someplace you never meant to go, you have to ask yourself:

1. Is this place somewhere I actually *want* to be and thereby worth exploring more? Should I keep going down this path a bit further?

2. Is it okay that we detour through here on the way back to the main plot? Should I finish out this scene and then figure out a way to steer us back on course?

3. Is this NOT AT ALL where I want to be and I’m just going to pretend all this writing didn’t happen and start over, following the plan? (If yes, don’t delete what you did, just put it in a separate “for later” doc, because, who knows, maybe that place you went will work just fine in another story or will turn into a story of its own someday).

Explore those tangents, friends. Because no path explored is made of wasted steps or something equally profound that makes more sense.

Vincent shifted a bit as he heard the unmistakable sound of Christian's garage door sliding closed, followed a minute later by the slight creak the inside door made as it swung open. Was it that late, already?

Christian had left earlier that morning, Vincent only half-awake and still mostly delirious from his 6:00 am dose of pain medication. Vincent vaguely remembered a cool hand smoothing the hair back from his forehead and Christian's soft lips pressing a kiss to his temple.

"I'm off to training, Liefje," he'd said, his voice soft and low, as though he were afraid to rouse Vincent from his near-constant sleep. "I left you some fruit and toast, although it might be cold by the time you get to it, sorry. Someone will be here later to check if you need anything, okay? I love you. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Vincent didn't recall what he'd mumbled in response, or if it had been even marginally coherent. He'd slipped back into a fitful sleep before he'd even heard the door click shut behind Christian.

Christian, in defiance of everyone's advice, had insisted on staying home from training for the past few days so he could help Vincent with his recovery. Vincent hadn't minded, of course; it had been nice to have someone around to bring him food and glasses of water and, much to Vincent's extreme embarrassment, help him down the corridor to the toilet. Still, the Premier League season was only just underway and with so many of Christian's teammates newly back to training after the World Cup and several others out with injuries or international duties, Christian's presence in the squad was even more critical than usual.

Somehow, he'd managed to convince Pochettino to let him have three days of leave ahead of their match with Manchester United the following Monday, and today had been his first day back following Vincent's surgery.

He hadn't expected to miss Christian much while he was gone for the day--it wasn't as if Vincent did much of anything besides crashing in and out of fitful sleep in-between his doses of painkillers--but it seemed he'd gotten rather used to Christian rushing to his side whenever Vincent made the slightest commotion.

Toby's wife, Shani, had turned up around midday, bearing gifts of salad and selection of sandwiches. She didn't look in much better condition to make the trek up and down Christian's stairs as she went to refill Vincent's gathering of water bottles and exchanged the dishes left behind from his light breakfast. She was due to give birth any day now, and Vincent wasn't at all sure she needed to be prioritising his care over her own, but she'd waved away his protests.

"This is the first time I've left the house in days," she'd said with a laugh. "Don't get me wrong, I think after today I might be happy to stay shut up indoors with my feet up until all of this is over, but it's nice to have a change of scenery for a time."

Vincent had shifted around on the sofa, attempting to prop himself up into a sitting position so Shani could sit down. She'd done her best to lean over and straighten the pillows behind him, but Vincent had shooed her away.

"No sense you hurting yourself," Vincent had told her. "I can only imagine what Toby would say if he found out if something happened on account of you helping me. Besides, I'm not sure either of us would be in a position to help the other if we both end up falling over or something."

Shani had let out a giggle at that, but she held up her hands and let Vincent struggle through rearranging himself until he was scooted into a sort of half-slouch against the corner and arm of the sofa, leaving half a cushion free for her to settle in.

They'd stayed that way for nearly two hours, talking and laughing as they caught up on everything they'd both been up to in the months since they'd last seen one another. For all that Vincent and Toby had always held one another at a distance, he and Shani had fallen into amiable companionship from the beginning. She was lighthearted and kind and Vincent had always found her easy to talk to. It didn't surprise him that she'd been the one to volunteer to come by and check on him while Christian was away at training, despite her rather advanced pregnancy.

After the fifth time Vincent had nodded off while she was speaking, she levered herself off the sofa and began gathering up the remnant cutlery and containers from their lunch.

"Don't..." Vincent started, a yawn swallowing away the rest of his words. "I mean...leave it all. Christian can clear it up when he gets home. I need to make the long trek down the hallway to the WC anyway, so I'll at least, I don't know, push it all into a pile with one of my crutches or something."

"I should help," Shani said, staggering a bit as she tried to shift her wait to help Vincent to a standing position.

Vincent held up a hand. "No, thanks. Really. I appreciate the offer, but...I'm not sure we're the sort of friends who help one another go to the toilet."

"Fair enough," Shani said with a laugh. "But I should at least stay until you're back and settled."

Vincent shook his head. "At the rate this process usually goes it will be at least another hour. Plus, as we established, if one of us falls down there's not much the other can do. We'd just end up having to call someone to help lift us both off the floor of Christian's hallway."

They both gave a laugh at that thought--two of them flopped side-by-side against the floorboards until they managed to ring up someone to help them up.

"Alright," Shani said at last, her full cheeks pink with laughter. "But you'd better not fall. Christian will never let me hear the end of it if he comes home to find you laying there and me nowhere in sight."

"I'll take all the blame, I promise," Vincent said.

He turned slowly, dropping his good leg off the sofa and onto the floor, then leaning forward to lift the other--still encased in an immobilising cast. Shani grabbed his crutches from where they were propped against the door and held them out towards Vincent so he could use them to push himself up off the sofa.

The whole process was awkward, and Vincent had to give up and crash back down to the cushions once before he managed to get the angle right, but he eventually ended up in a standing position, cool plastic of the crutches wrapped around his forearm, his bad leg bent behind him so his foot could rest on the sofa.

"Thank you again for coming by. I appreciate you taking the time, especially when you should be at home yourself."

"I had to come by. It's the only way I will get to see you since you never come along with Christian when he visits."

"It's..." Vincent started.

"When you're feeling well enough, please come by. I hope by then that I can introduce you to my daughter."

Vincent couldn't help but give her a smile at this.

He shifted his weight so he could press air-kisses to her cheeks--right, then left, then right again. "How could I say no when you ask me that way?"

"So I'll see you soon?"

"Of course. I hope everything goes well. With the birth, I mean. I look forward to meeting her."

Shani flashed him a wide smile, then turned to make her way slowly out the door and down the steps. Vincent followed after her, crutches creaking and thudding as he moved. He hovered at the top of the stairs, waiting until she was out of sight and he heard the click of the door and the soft clunk of the key turning in the latch before he turned to make the long trek down the hallway.

#football rpf #30-day writing challenge #fic writing challenge #30-day football rpf challenge #football rpf challenge #christian eriksen x vincent janssen #(sort of)#writing #november writing #drizzit writes #I wish I could say this was an out-of-the-ordinary tangent #but it's actually super reflective of my writing #like...well I meant to write this but I guess we're here now #do we want to be here or no?

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tolkien-fandom-history · 6 years

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Interview with Angela P. Nicholas--author of "Aragorn: J.R.R. Tolkien's Undervalued Hero"

We were very excited to have the opportunity to interview author Angela P. Nicholas. Her book "Aragorn: J.R.R. Tolkien's Undervalued Hero" is an extremely detailed, in depth examination of Tolkien's Aragorn--his life, his relationships, his achievements, his skills, and his personality. It is a very worthwhile addition to any Tolkien library. She has some fascinating insights into Aragorn, book vs movie representations of the character, thoughts on the upcoming Amazon series and fan fiction as part of the Tolkien fandom. Hope you enjoy reading it!

1. How did you first become interested in Tolkien?

Answer:

Although The Lord of the Rings was very much in fashion during my student days in the late sixties and early seventies I wasn't interested in it at that stage – probably because I didn't tend to follow fashions! It was not until a few years later, in 1973, that a friend persuaded me to read it. He stressed that it would be a good idea to read The Hobbit first and promised me that I was "in for a treat". I was hooked immediately and when I got together with my future husband soon afterwards I wasted no time in introducing him to Tolkien's works as well! I re-read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings several times during the seventies and bought The Silmarillion as soon as it was published in 1977. Further readings have followed since, especially while working on Aragorn, extending to Unfinished Tales, the twelve volumes of The History of Middle-earth and Tolkien's Letters as well.*

2. Aside from reading the books, have you had any other immersion in the Tolkien fandom? Online, through societies, other venues?

Answer:

My Tolkien-related activities include membership of the Tolkien Society since 2005, leading to attendance at Oxonmoot (most years) plus a number of AGMs, the occasional seminar and the event in Loughborough in 2012. I've contributed several articles to Amon Hen and also gave a talk about Aragorn at Oxonmoot a few years ago. In addition I attend meetings of my local smial (Southfarthing) which is actually a Tolkien Reading Group.

3. There are so many richly written, deeply compelling characters in Tolkien. How did you decide to focus on Aragorn?

Answer:

There wasn't really any decision to make, as right from the start I found Aragorn the most complex and appealing character in the book. Every time I re-read The Lord of the Rings - including delving into the Appendices - I found new depths to his character and significance.

4. What prompted you to write this book? How did the impetus to write about him, in such rich detail, come about?

Answer:

The actual impetus came from Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings films. Although I enjoyed his portrayal of Aragorn in some ways, it was clear that there were significant differences between the film and book versions of the character. For my own satisfaction I decided to re-discover Tolkien's Aragorn by studying all the Middle-earth writings and making detailed notes on anything of interest. I did not, at that stage, see myself actually writing a book.

5. Did you initially plan such an exhaustive and detailed study of this character, when you first decided to write the book?

Answer:

No, I didn't envisage anything so detailed. It just got out of hand: the more notes I made the more ideas I had and the thing just grew exponentially!

6. The title makes use of the word ‘undervalued’—how do you define that in terms of Aragorn and how did you come to associate that word with him?

Answer:

While studying Aragorn it became clear to me that his role in the story is a lot more significant than is immediately apparent. This is partly because the book is “hobbito-centric”, to use Tolkien's own word [see end of Letter 181 in The Letters of J R R Tolkien edited by Humphrey Carpenter], so is largely written from the hobbit viewpoint. For this reason Aragorn's ancestry and earlier life are only described in the Appendices, which not everyone reads. Thus his deeds - and their significance - are often overlooked, causing him and his role to be undervalued. Chapter 1.5 of my book in particular aims to address this problem by concentrating on the story of The Lord of the Rings from Aragorn's point of view. He does many crucial things behind the scenes, for example: the lengthy search for Gollum; standing in for Gandalf as shown by the secret vigil he conducts over Frodo during the months before the latter's departure from the Shire; and - the most significant achievement - confronting Sauron in the Palantír of Orthanc thus implying that he himself has the Ring and so diverting Sauron's attention away from Frodo.

7. If you were to consider writing a similar book about another character from Tolkien’s legendarium who would you choose to focus on?

Answer:

I find Finrod Felagund, Galadriel and Elrond interesting, especially in the light of their impact on Aragorn and his ancestry. Among the hobbits, Merry Brandybuck is rather appealing. However I have to say that I am not planning to do another book on this scale!

8. What were your thoughts on the portrayal of Aragorn in Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings movies?

Answer:

Given “book” Aragorn's lengthy struggle to regain the kingships of Arnor and Gondor and to be deemed worthy of marrying his beloved Arwen, it was extremely disappointing to be presented with the image of “Aragorn the reluctant king” who breaks off his engagement so Arwen can sail west.

In general I felt there was too much emphasis on Aragorn as a fighter, along with almost total neglect of his formidable healing skills, impressive foresight and knowledge of history and lore.

Another great disappointment was the omission of the challenge to Sauron in the Orthanc Stone. Yes, this incident was included in the extended version of The Return of the King, but it appeared in the wrong place and also gave the impression that Aragorn lost the confrontation. (The credit for seeing the enemy's plans in the Stone was actually given to Pippin!)

In addition I found the beheading of the Mouth of Sauron particularly disturbing.

9. Did you find Viggo Mortensen believable and appealing as Aragorn?

Answer:

In spite of my answer to the previous question I liked Viggo Mortensen's performance. He did actually look something like my image of Aragorn and he seemed to capture the sadness, remoteness, physical courage and protectiveness I associate with the character. Basically I thought that Mortensen did very well with the part he was given to play - but the part was not that of Tolkien's Aragorn!

10. Amazon has bought the rights to the appendices of the Lord of the Rings and is planning a 5 part series. Rumor has it that the first season will focus on young Aragorn. What do you hope to see in this adaptation and are there any particular incidents/scenes/events that you think merit particular attention or inclusion?

Answer: The following seem to me to be important:

- Putting Aragorn's early life in the context of “Estel”, the Hope of the Dúnedain, who has been prophesied to be the one who will atone for Isildur's failure to destroy the Ring, and who will restore the kingship of Men.

- Some emphasis on his family members: Ivorwen, Dírhael, Gilraen, the death of Arathorn, subsequent fostering by Elrond, and training by Elladan and Elrohir. Some indication of the close relationship with his foster-father would be good: Elrond loved Aragorn as much as his own children but this was not made apparent in the Peter Jackson films.

- The scene when Elrond tells the 20-year-old Aragorn his true identity.

- First meeting with Arwen

- Friendship with Gandalf from age 25 onward

- Betrothal to Arwen, and Galadriel's involvement: he was 49 by this time, so that may not be considered part of his early life (though 49 would be young for one of the Dúnedain!)

- Perhaps some reference to the events of The Hobbit in 2941-2 when we know that 10/11-year-old Aragorn was living in Rivendell.

11. What do you find most inspiring about Tolkien’s world?

Answer:

The depiction of such a complete and seemingly realistic world, and the fact that one can pick up extra hidden depths in both story and characters on each re-reading. There is always something else to discover or a new interpretation of a familiar passage.

12. Are you involved in any more projects involving Tolkien?

Answer:

Not at the moment. I have one or two ideas for possible short articles.

13. What advice would you give to those first encountering Tolkien’s work and wanting to learn more about Middle-earth and its inhabitants?

Answer:

Speaking from my own experience I would say: Read The Hobbit first then The Lord of the Rings several times, including the Appendices, before delving into other works: The Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales, The History of Middle-earth and Tolkien's Letters, plus critical works, etc. - and of course online sources which were not available when I first became interested in Tolkien.

14. In the preface to your book you mention discovering the online Tolkien fanfiction community—what are your thoughts on Tolkien fanfiction? What time frame was this and did you join the fanfiction community at that time?

Answer:

I started writing fanfiction during 2003 and continued doing it until about 2007 which was when I made the decision to write a serious work about Aragorn. One piece of fanfiction appeared in Amon Hen, and the rest on a couple of websites which I think no longer exist.

My main thought about fanfiction is that it was this which started me off writing. It was very much an experiment as my last attempts at creative writing dated back to my school English lessons in the 1960s! Without trying the fanfiction first I don't think I would ever have got round to writing articles for Amon Hen, let alone my book.

15. Did encountering fanfiction or even writing it have an effect on your thoughts on Aragorn and the salient points of his character that truly defined him?

Answer:

Yes - because the chief aim of the fanfiction (mine and, I suspect, that of other fanfiction writers) was to fill in the gaps in Aragorn's story. I scoured the text for possible motives and feelings of the people I was writing about. My fanfiction was always based on the “book” version of the story and characters (never on the film version). I did sometimes use invented characters but only to add detail and interest to the story. For exampIe this approach was used when writing about Aragorn's Rangers and when describing his interactions with the inhabitants of Bree. Some stories were actually based on invented characters, in order to try and see Aragorn through the eyes of others. This probably helped me when writing the “Relationship” chapters [see next question.]

16. One aspect of your book that to me is truly unique is Part 2, where you study and interpret his interactions and relationships with the other races and individuals he encounters in Middle-earth. What made you decide to pursue this format?

Answer:

It just seemed the most logical approach. I couldn't study Aragorn's relationships properly without also studying the other half of each different relationship. There was so much to be revealed about both parties in these studies, many of which were based around families and generations (such as in Rohan, and Gondor, and in the Rivendell and Lothlórien communities).

17. Aragorn as a character brings together elements and bloodlines from the First Age into the Fourth Age—you outline these genealogies and relationships quite thoroughly in your book. How do you think this knowledge of his genealogy affected him in his transition from youth to Ranger to King? Is there a character from the earlier Ages that you think had a more significant impact on him or that he resembles the most in character?

Answer: Aragorn would presumably have learnt about these people as a child during his history lessons, but would not have connected them specifically with himself until he was made aware of his true identity at the age of 20.

Elendil, Isildur and Anárion stand out as the obvious significant ancestors whom Aragorn would have striven to emulate - plus, in the case of Isildur, also to atone for his failure to destroy the Ring.

Other ancestors who may well have inspired admiration and/or gratitude in Aragorn include:

- Elendur the self-sacrificing eldest son of Isildur. A passage in Unfinished Tales refers to Elrond seeing a huge similarity between Elendur and Aragorn, both physically and in character. [See footnote 26 at the end of The Disaster of the Gladden Fields.]

- Amandil, the father of Elendil, who advised his son to gather his family and possessions in secret and plan an escape from Númenor in the event of a disaster, before himself courageously setting out for the Undying Lands to plead for mercy for the Númenóreans. He was never heard of again, but the Númenórean race was saved due to Elendil's successful escape to Middle-earth after following his father's instructions.

- Tar-Elendil the 4th King of Númenor and his daughter Silmarien. The royal line of Númenor and its heirlooms only survived via this female line.

- Tar-Palantir the penultimate King of Númenor who resisted the influence of Sauron and tried to turn the Númenóreans back to friendship with the Eldar.

Another notable ancestor for a different reason was Arvedui, the last King of the North Kingdom, who tried to claim the throne of Gondor as well but was rejected and ended up losing both kingdoms before fleeing to the frozen north where he died in a shipwreck. Aragorn must have regarded his own mission to reunite the two kingdoms just over 1,000 years later with some apprehension.

Ar-Pharazôn would clearly have served as a dire warning!

I wonder if Aragorn felt any unease about his namesake, Aragorn I, being killed by wolves!

A comment in Appendix AI(i) of The Lord of the Rings states that the Númenóreans came to resent the choice of Elros to be mortal, thus triggering their yearning for immortality and their subsequent downfall. Did Aragorn ever resent his ancestor's choice? Personally I think he would have had the knowledge and wisdom to understand Ilúvatar's purpose in reuniting the immortal line of Elrond with the mortal line of Elros (through the marriage of Arwen and Aragorn) in order to strengthen the royal line prior to the departure of the Elves and the beginning of the Age of Men.

18. What are your thoughts on the original premise that Aragorn was Trotter, a hobbit?

Answer:

Eeek! The grinning and the wooden shoes! I don't think that the book could possibly have had the same impact, depth and sense of history if the main characters had all been hobbits. I seem to remember that the name “Trotter” still survived for a while after he became a man. “Strider” sounds much better. I'm so glad Tolkien didn't pursue the original idea.

19. Do you have any advice for budding Tolkien acolytes and scholars who are first delving into the legendarium?

Answer:

Read and re-read, record thoughts, ideas, passages worth quoting. Read what JRRT wrote and what others have written. This worked for me, over a very long period - more by accident than design.

*this answer is the same as Angela's answer in the Luna Press interview with her as it has not changed! Take a look at that article for more information on Angela and her book. https://www.lunapresspublishing.com/single-post/2017/09/04/Aragorn---A-Companion-Book

Interviewed by @maedhrosrussandol

July 14th 2018

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whiskynottea · 6 years

Text

The Ripple Effect

Previously Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

AO3

Previously (Chapter 6)

Jamie grabbed my hand, leading me up the stairs to his apartment.

He unlocked the door and slipped in the darkness, taking me with him.

Here we are, Beauchamp.

Chapter 7. Nessie and the Red Phone Booth.

source

Jamie held my hand tight while he turned the lights on. With a subtle click! his life was there, open and bright for me to see it.

I swallowed hard, trying to push the fear back to the pit of my stomach, where it settled for months now. With a breath, I looked around.

It was a studio apartment, furnished only with the basics.

A small kitchen, a narrow dining table, a bed.

Our bed.

That stopped me in my tracks.

The plain solid oak frame supported a thick, half a meter tall bed mattress, which had a mattress on top of it, then a top mattress and finally a toper, what else?

(1.5 years earlier)

We were bouncing on different mattresses like school kids for about an hour, trying to decide which one suited us, and erupting in laughter when the kind lady interrupted our shenanigans to ask us if everything was alright.

I could remember my exact words when Jamie exclaimed “This one!” lying on a four-layer bed that would cost us a fortune.

“You’re kidding me. Come on, Jamie, this is ridiculous!” I took his hand and dragged him off the bed.

But he insisted.

So we bought all four layers, filled with natural products; horsehair, cactus fiber and seaweed.

“Yeah, now that I’m thinking about this, I could never sleep on a bed without seaweed in it.” I mentioned sourly still thinking of the bed’s enormous price.

“Ye’re a selkie, that’s why.” Jamie said, wiggling his eyebrows and setting his teeth on my neck to prove his point.

“Horseshit.” I whispered but smiled nonetheless. We would need the bed ASAP if Jamie continued like this. Any bed, if I wanted to be honest.

“Horsehair, Sassenach. If there were horseshit in there, ye would scrunch this wee nose of yours until…” his whisper was lost as he licked across the side of my neck up to my earlobe.

He never admitted it, but I knew this bed was bought for me, because I often had a sore neck after long shifts and nights spent at the hospital. I knew he could sleep on rocks if need to, and he would be happy with it.

The image of our bed, covering almost half of the relatively small space of his apartment, filled my heart with dreams I didn’t have the courage to hope for before coming back.

Glancing around I realized that more of the furniture was from our place.

His mother’s armchair was standing next to my uncle’s vintage side table, the last thing I had left from him. And on top of it, the trophies of our first date.

A black ceramic Loch Ness monster ornament, next to a bright red London telephone booth.

(2.5 years earlier)

“I have a gift for you.” I announced with a broad grin the moment I saw him outside my apartment building. “Just to remind you who’s always winning around here.” With a cocked eyebrow, indicating who was the aforementioned winner, I handed him the little souvenir, silently praying he wouldn’t be offended.

If only I knew!

“Ye surely know that in Scotland we’re rising when we dinna like our rulers!” He stated with a cunning smile.

Jamie materialized a box from behind his back and gave it to me with a cheeky grin. It was a white box, with a picture of Nessie at the front, and I opened it to find four parts inside – a head, a tale, and two body parts made to look like she was half-emerged in the water. It was beautiful.

“So ye dinna forget where ye are, lass. This is a powerful place, full of mysteries, ye ken.”

That night I learned some of the mysteries hidden in his strong arms and tender lips. And that he liked me as his ruler, but rose nonetheless.

The memories were now running their claws against my heart and I could barely keep myself from falling on the floor and sob for all the things I’d left behind. It was a wander I still had more tears left in me, but it did.

Before I knew it, Jamie’s arms were around me, keeping me upright.

“Come here, Sassenach. Let’s warm you up.” He whispered, and I felt his breath in my ear. I leaned my head towards him, only to be met by thin air. He left me and headed to the wardrobe.

I didn’t move an inch while he was searching in his drawers, afraid that if I’d move I would run straight to his hug. He came back with a towel and pile consisting of a hoodie, sweatpants and clean underwear – all huge, and all his.

I was shocked by this offer. Not that I’d never wore his clothes before, just that I didn’t expect him to be so… open and giving.

Like I’d never left.

I took the clothes and nodded my thanks. When I raised my eyes to his, I found them filled with care and concern.

This man could break my heart just by snapping his fingers.

“You’re all soaked, too. Don’t you want to…” He interrupted me before I could continue my offer.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach. You go take a hot shower and I’ll change into something dry in the meantime.”

I did as I was bid, unable to disagree with him. My wet clothes were clinging on my body, the cold creeping in, and I desperately needed to compose myself before we would talk.

Jamie’s bathroom was small but the shower was big enough to fit him – which made it quite spacious for me. I shed my clothes on the floor and got in, longing to feel the full pressure of the scalding hot water against my skin.

How I wished he would come in to join me, to wash the pain away and make me his again. To feel his body against mine, giving me the absolution I craved for, as he would my frail body with his strength.

He didn’t come, though.

I dried myself and wore his soft clothes, smelling of my favorite conditioner.

My heart melted to the floor, next to my soaked clothes.

Oh, Jamie.

I walked to the room to find him sitting in the armchair, with two glasses of whisky on the side table, next to an almost full whisky bottle. He was well prepared.

He chuckled when he saw me, and I took a lame turn around myself to show off the disaster, in all its greatness. The sweatpants were falling of my hips and I used a rubber hair band to somehow keep them up, while the hoodie could easily fit in me and a duplicate of myself at the same time.

I eyed the whisky with a tiny smile on my face. Jamie shrugged. “I figured we would need it.”

“I reckon we will.” I confirmed, and walked to take my glass.

It was when I leaned in to take my dram that the magic happened. For an instant we forgot ourselves, what had happened, what was going to happen. My hand grazed his arm and the next moment he had grabbed me, pulling me into his lap and kissing me with all he had. Teeth were sinking deep in lips, drawing blood, tongues touched and fought for dominance, out of the need to push the suffering of the past months away. Without realizing how, I found myself straddling him, grinding my body against his, with a hand lost in his hair and the other grasping his tee shirt for dear life. I felt one hand on my scalp, tangled between my wet curls while the other traveled from my thighs up to my butt, until it settled on my waist to pull me closer.

When we came back to ourselves and broke the kiss Jamie held my eyes with his. Our breaths were short and fast, synchronized to let us breath each other in.

It took a while until Jamie averted his eyes. “I’m sorry, Sassenach. I…, I just couldn’t help myself. I shouldn’t have done that.”

I had no words. To feel this man’s passion again, woven seamlessly with his love and care, was the best gift anyone had ever given me. I kissed him in reply, a light flicker of my lips against his and I moved away.

With my whisky in hand, I sat on the edge of the bed and run my fingers on the duvet.

“You kept…” I trailed off. Did I want to mention that?

He gave me a rueful smile and looked absentmindedly at the bed. “Aye, I kept all I could fit in this place.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I knew he prepared himself to talk, so I sipped my drink and waited in silence.

“When you left, Claire, I was lost. I stayed at home for a week, barely sleeping or eating, trying to understand what had just happened. Then Murtagh came, with his grump face – ye know Murtagh – and scolded me for more than an hour. But I couldn’t react to anything he said. I felt like I had no strength anymore, but even if I had, everything was meaningless, anyway.”

I walked to him and sat down on the floor, placing a hand on his thigh, desperately trying to comfort him but still not knowing my boundaries.

“Why, Claire?” He whispered painfully. “Why did you leave like this, why didn’t you return any of my calls?”

I lowered my head, trying to the best way to respond to his questions.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I moved here because Murtagh insisted that living in another place would help. He suggested going back to Lallybroch, but I couldna do that. With Jenny and the kids… I needed to be alone. When I finally agreed to move, he said he would transfer all our things to a warehouse. But I… I couldna do it. I couldna let you go. I couldna let us go.” His fingers trailed on my cheek and then they were gone, as I felt him standing up, trying to keep a distance. I let him go.

Jamie moved to the window and stood there, trying to calm himself down. I’d seen the heartbreak mingling with anger in his eyes before he turned to go away. The muscles of his shoulders were tense underneath with tee shirt and fast, deep breaths were shaking his body.

“Why did you leave?” He hissed, still not looking at me.

“I…” I trailed off. This was the hard part. I gulped audibly, trying to force back the tears and steady my breath. Jamie turned to face me, and I could see the words struggling behind sealed lips, wanting to fly free between us. He pressed his lips tighter, in an attempt to protect his thoughts and hopes. It would be harder for me to shatter them with my explanations if they were never said aloud.

My inability to find words made things worse. His fury took over, dominating all other feelings. When he talked again his voice was palpating with restrained anger.

“Do ye ken how many times I thought about that day, to make sense of it, only to end up more confused and sore? Do ye ken how it feels to return to an empty house when all ye were thinking during the drive home was two whisky eyes you get lost in, and a body completing yours, taking away all the day’s weariness? Do ye ken how it feels to replay in yer head every single detail for six months, trying to find any sign of what was amiss, if there was something different the night before when you still felt whole, or during the next morning’s breakfast? If that day’s goodbye kiss was different than the rest – screaming goodbye forever? And yet, to end up with nothing that can explain your emptiness. Do ye ken how it feels to be left alone with a note in your shaking hands, reading ‘It’s over - Don’t look for me’?”

“It wasn’t easy to leave, either.” It was just a whisper that left my lips, but I could see that he’d heard it, because his chest was heaving more with every passing minute.

“Then WHY DID YOU LEAVE, DAMN YOU?” He shouted, his fists shaking as he kept them close to his body with difficulty.

“I HAD TO!” I screamed. Seeing his pain made my pain raw, splinters sinking in the soft surface of my heart.

“You left me behind without any explanation! Do ye ken how it is to live as half a man? To have the ghost of your happiness following you everywhere, a constant reminder of your smashed dreams?”

“Do I know? Do I know?” I repeated, unable to think of anything else. “OF COURSE I DO! IT WAS THE SAME FOR ME, TOO.”

Jamie opened his mouth ready to reply, but pressed his lips instead and took a step back. Squaring his shoulders, he asked me in a cracked voice, “Why are ye back?”

Letting a breath out, I replied. “I needed to explain.”

“Then do.” He said, his voice cold and removed, insulating himself from what would follow.

“I left to protect you. You and me both.”

Chapter 8

#the ripple effect #modern AU #jamie x claire #angst #and fluff #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic

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glassandmetalwings · 6 years

Text

So. Sunday. Pokémon Community Day. Specifically, Beldum day.

Under cut for length and also triggers. Trigger warnings for health junk, mentions of hospitals and mentions of death, self harm, and suicide (none of which have happened but are relevant). Plus vague mentions of Dad’s general bigotry.

I gave Dad a heads up for it. On Tuesday/Wednesday (I can’t remember which), and then again on Friday. And on Friday, he even asked questions about it, so it wasn’t in one ear and out the other.

Friday night, I found out Dad had been planning to go up to the cabin with Mom. He never mentioned this to me. Apparently Mom thought he planned to go up Monday, but he had decided they were going up Sunday instead. And Mom expressed concern, which he got mad at her over. Because he hasn’t been up to the cabin since like February and it needs to be winterized or something, but clearly he has to be involved.

For those who don’t know/have forgotten, Dad’s not in the best shape. Last December he went out to LA for a surgery because he had a partially paralyzed diaphragm that was severely impacting his breathing, had rotator cuff surgery in late June, basically a heart attack in mid/late July (at which point we discovered he’s got a clot in a major artery, right over where he had a triple stint placed a decade ago for a 98% blockage), and THEN recently had a double catheter operation to try to loosen the clot.

It didn’t work. At all. So he’ll soon be going in for single-vessel bypass. Long story short, he has been warned several times that he probably should not be going up to altitude, much less doing any sort of physical work at altitude.

Which is why Mom wanted to make the cabin trip a one-day thing on Monday. But Dad got mad about her being worried about his health and firmly decided they were going Sunday.

That night, as I struggled to sleep, I realized that Dad would want to leave well before Community Day started, depriving Mom of it (because there was no way I was going up to the cabin with them). I swear that Dad comes up with something every. Single. Community Day.

Scratch that. Whenever we have plans that involve something that would make my day, Dad comes up with some bs that, even if I do get to do the thing, I end up feeling guilty about doing it.

But I mentioned it (angrily) to Mom, and she reminded Dad, and he ended up saying that they would go after our event ended. Which should have been fine, because he was still getting an extra night up there.

Meanwhile, Mom and I secretly make plans of what to do in case an emergency comes up with Dad going to altitude. Namely, to save time for her, she’d send me a text with an emoji so I would know they were going to the hospital and I should alert my sisters and drive up.

There’s some other stuff that happened on Saturday, namely relating to Dad not doing basic things like alerting Mom when she needed to come in (she asked him to tell her after ten minutes of working outside so that she could make dinner, but then didn’t, and she was too engaged in cleaning up leaves and I didn’t want to deal with grouchy, hungry Dad, so I cooked instead despite being completely drained and distracted) and Mom being too stubborn to take care of herself (woman is developing scoliosis and, despite me asking her to tell me when she was going outside to do more leaves after dinner so I could help her, she spends another hour and a half doing it by herself because she doesn’t want to distract me from my costuming, and only gives up because I come out to help her without shoes or gardening gloves because it’s getting dark and she’s hurting herself). But anyways, Sunday.

We’re gonna go get MDs ice cream beforehand (for Pokémon toys), we’ll meet up with Erin, we’ll all catch some Beldum...it will be great, right? We agree to take two cars because we know Dad will probably get antsy and call wanting to leave, so that I can stay and finish up withe Erin but she’ll get in at least half of the Community Day.

Except, as we are leaving...Dad asks when it’s over, then says he might take the very old truck, leave early, and meet her at the cabin.

He has not driven since mid-June, and is arguably still behind on his recovery. It’s a 2.5 hour drive-1.5 for him because he’s reckless-on curvy, winding mountain roads with steep drops and blind turns. It is, again, going up to altitude, which he has been warned against. Also the truck is nearly as old as I am and probably a little stiff with steering.

Mom and I try to subtly point these things out, but he’s not having it. When Mom gets more blunt about it being dangerous, he gets upset with her. We leave.

At this point we’re already running late in my plan. I don’t realistically see us getting through MDs, at lunch hour, before the event starts (but I don’t have the confidence to go alone, and was going to feel weird asking Erin). I have to go get gas because my gas light is on. I tell Mom to meet me there, and we decide she’ll stay for an hour and then go back, hopefully before Dad can leave.

And the whole time I’m getting gas, I’m fuming. That’s when I made that post, because I was in tears because Dad always gets in the way of my plans. Always. You’ve all seen enough posts of me getting emotional because we had plans that I spend a week getting ready for, and Dad throws a wrench in them at the last minute. Even the ones that include him (like the time I wanted to go to the science museum with him this time last year to see cool dinosaurs).

Because here’s the thing for me: I’m...passively suicidal. I don’t know what the technical term is, but I’m learning to explain it to people like Mom and my psychiatrist. Basically I would love to die, but it’s currently not an option because people need me and it would be detrimental to things. So I’m not acting on it, or on my desire to self-harm, but I have to constantly sit with that feeling. And it’s scary to explain because I can’t emphasize enough that I am not a threat to myself, and do not need to go to the hospital (which for me would only make it worse), but I have to continue with everyday life with that feeling constantly eating at me.

So every day, often several times a day, I’m actively making the choice not to die, or relapse, or do anything that would put me in the hospital, for the sake of not putting more stress on everyone else. Currently, with Mom out of town half the week, Dad needs me to drive him places like pt and the store (which, again, is a place that makes me depersonalize and sets off anxiety attacks, but for him is an outing so he takes his sweet time), so me not acting on those intrusive thoughts and impulses directly affects his life.

And here he is, ready to put himself in severe danger on multiple levels and quite possibly die...because he can’t wait three hours for Mom and I to go catch Pokémon.

I drive him places while actively disassociating, put up with his bigoted rants and opinions that directly contradict my own (it’s not worth saying anything), walk on eggshells to not annoy him or risk him snapping at me, am currently arranging most of my schedule to revolve around his needs, and don’t try to hurt or kill myself...

...and he can’t extend me the courtesy of letting me enjoy myself for a few hours without feeling guilty or anxious that something bad is going to happen.

Community Day ended up working out; I caught 10 shiny Beldum, did two raids with Erin (wherein she got her Mewtwo finally, which made me so happy after getting invited to a million EX raids and she only getting invited to one that she had to skip, so I was happy for her), and then we got Pokémon toys after (the two I wanted most, even). But I had to take anxiety meds the moment I got to the art center, fumed quite a bit an nearly lost my temper with Mom at one point (she was parked in a different area and said she was coming over, but then joined a raid and didn’t tell me, so I got worried after ten minutes passed and she wasn’t with me), and really couldn’t relax an enjoy myself until I got a text from her saying that they were headed up together. Dad even drove, apparently. But imagine how much better it could have been if I hadn’t had to deal with any of that?

Imagine me actually getting a day to be happy and enjoy myself and go through with my plans without worrying about Dad’s...everything? Even the day Erin and I saw Fallen Kingdom was spoiled slightly by me worrying about what time Dad would get out of the hospital, because I decided it was Pride Month and I was wearing my rainbow dinosaur shirt to the movie but needed to know if I would have to change before going home (spoiler: he had to stay another night and all the worrying was for nothing).

I just...I want to be able to be happy and take care of myself and Dad serves as one of the larger roadblocks.

And on Sunday I was done with him.

#wings does things #wings hates life #death mention tw #hospital mention tw #self harm mention tw #suicide mention tw #and now I intend to move on from this

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ayuyikes · 6 years

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Hunting a Cryptid pt.1

Yeah so once upon a time I wrote a ModernCryptidAU for my ocs but lost motivation (and I recently found out that that fic is 1.5 years old) so I figured if I post a part I might have motivation to write again... So! Here comes!

There's this house standing on the very edge of the neighborhood. It is a tall, looming, dark victorian style house that had been renovated twice in the past decade. Closed off windows, torn burgundy curtains, the whole gothic horror package. And its owner never came out during the day.

Ayuya had set eyes on this house for some time, but after a bit of research, she was certain.

The guy living there had to be a vampire, no doubt.

The evidence was simple and undeniable.

First off, he never came out during the day. Which was obviously mentioned before. Vampires burn in the light of the sun, so they have to make their move at night. And who, (after having camped out for nights at his house continuously falling asleep), was only ever seen outside at night? That guy.

Secondly, the house. Why would you move if you lived there already for hundreds of years? Plus the gothic horror obsession only added to it.

Third, and this only came to light after shadowing him one night, he avoided Italian restaurants like the plague. And why? Boom. Garlic.

She could think of more but it was all pointing to the same direction: she had to be dealing with a vampire. No other way around it. The evidence was all there.

So she went for the confrontation. To get the truth out of him.

And here she was, standing on his porch, looking up to the huge mansion that no doubt was the Vampire's Lair. It was day time, so she figured he wouldn't actually come out, but she needed to prove her point. And what better strategy then to attack when the enemy (hostility not yet proven at this point, though) was at his weakest.

Just in case she had brought some garlic with her in her purse, maybe she should consider bringing some holy symbol next time too?

If there will be a next time.

The door opened, she was hastily bracing herself. What if she got dragged in, before the sunlight could actually affect him? She was standing just inside shade. She didn't think this through. Too late, here comes.

In all her panic she almost didn't register the sleepy guy who opened the door for her. Six inches taller than her, in his (probably) pajama pants with a red bedhead and tired green eyes. They looked at her with a mixture of 'what do you want' and a 'it's too early for this' but after pulling herself together and mildly convincing he wasn't going to snatch her, she straightened her back and took a breath.

"Sir, I came here for a very special reason today-"

"If you're selling girl scout cookies," he muttered with a yawn, "then please be on your way, I'm not gonna buy any."

Thrown off, she tried to argue, respectfully. "I'm not selling any cookies, sir, I just want to ask of you-"

As if he was hit with a terrible headache, he hunched over as he laid his hands on her shoulders. "Please make it quick."

With newfound determination, she took a deep breath and asked. "Sir, are you a vampire?"

It was dead silent on his side. Nothing in his form betrayed any sign of denial or even surprise. Just. Blank.

Then he removed his hands from her and shut the door.

She heard him going up the stairs, grumbling."H-hey! Come back!" She cried, banging on the wooden door.

"There's no- you can't hide from the truth!"

"I can shut the door on it," he snarked back, obviously annoyed and distant. "Don't come back, and good night."

"Wh- But- I'll-" she knew that if she wanted an answer, she wasn't going to get a straight one now. "I'll be back! Mark my words!"

She forgot to register the fact he didn't flinch away from the direct sunlight that had hit his arms not even a moment ago.

The next day, she was back again. This time more prepared. Prepping a persuasion speech and some sort of small interview in case he obliged counted as prepared. Plus the evidence will convince him to talk. No doubt about it.

Once again she knocked on his door. Was the fancy doorknob there two days ago or hadn't she noticed it before?

She went over her speech one more time in her head: how his house had gripped her curiosity and how she had spent over a week researching her suspicions. Intro. Evidence. Interview. Done.

The door was opened again, maybe because he can't see her standing here from any of his windows (thanks to the little roof right over his door), and one look he gave her before his face fell. "It's you."

Thank god he was wearing a shirt this time.

He was about to close the door on her when she grasped his arm. "Please, just hear me out for a moment-"

"Why would I even? Just leave me alone-"

He wiggled just outside of her grasp to close the door on her. Drat.

She had to think of something promising. Something to appeal to him, to keep his attention. But what?

No use for a speech, this time she thought of something else.

She skipped knocking this time."Sir? Are you home? I brought something for negotiation...?"

It was a more cloudy day and she looked up at the eery lit windows. How can it already be this dark at three in the afternoon?

He opened a window. Success.

He rubbed his eyes and groggily spoke, "Why are you back?"

"I-" her voice wavered, and she fidgeted with her blonde hair. "I brought a peace offering? Maybe then you'd be willing to talk...?"

He squinted at her and pointed to the bag she was hiding behind her bag. "Please tell me you didn't bring any dead animals as 'peace offering'."

She shrunk a little, avoiding his gaze. "... I wasn't gonna let you suck my blood..." She muttered with a volume she hoped he wouldn't catch.

He rolled his eyes. "If you're gonna do shit like that at least bring something edible. And now leave me alone for a while, I'm trying to sleep."

Her eyes lit up a little. "How long do you normally sleep? A week? ... A month?"

He let out a deep sigh. "I'm too tired to be dealing with this bullshit," he grumbled when he moved his hand to the curtain to close it.

"... Alright. I'll just come back in a week," she decided out loud.

"Are you for fu-"

"I'll bring cookies! Till then!"

She didn't give him time to object before leaving the premises.

Yeah, she had actually baked him cookies. She didn't know if he had a sweet tooth or whatever (can they even digest stuff like that?) but it's the thought that counts, right?

Most people - not sure if that included him - liked chocolate chip cookies, so she stuck with that.

And just in case vampires had a weird reaction to chocolate, she had gotten him gluten free coco cakes too. Can never be too careful.

A good fourth impression was important, right?

This time when she called, he didn't answer. Was he still asleep?

She decided to leave the cookies on the porch with a note, so he couldn't say she didn't keep her end of the bargain. A little note explaining she stopped by and after a little thinking she left her number on it as well. 'As long as a decade hadn't passed since this day, contacting me when you wake up is fine,' was about the gist of it.

She hoped she'd receive a text somewhere within the next year.

Apparently she could already get a text within a few days.

It was short and to the point, no decoration added.

[Come next friday evening. Bring more cookies.]

At least he liked the cookies?

There she was again. This time she went around dinner time instead of the early afternoon in the hope to find him in a better mood.

She had waited until friday to show up, like he asked had her to. Her end of the deal was done. Now it was time for some answers.

She had made another batch of the same types of cookies like last time. Better play it safe.

Though she wondered... He seriously invited her? After all the snark and the 'go away' and stuff?

... Were the cookies that good?

Maybe she did something that made him change his mind? But what?

Anyway, when she knocked on the door, he almost simultaneously opened it, as if he was waiting for her. He didn't speak a word, only gestured her in. He looked a lot less tired. That's good.

She let him guide her to the kitchen. The kitchen looked more modern than she had expected, especially since even the hall had been in the same gothic vibe as the house had looked like from outside. The kitchen was nice and cosy and clean (almost as if he never used it.... Suspicious...) and had a small table in the corner. She sat herself down on one of the wooden chairs and waited for him to join her. She put her bag on the table with her.

He poured both of them a cup of tea at the sink where he had already cooked some water (he seriously was waiting for her then?) and brought the mugs to the table, gesturing to the small box where he kept the flavors.

She stuck with red tea.

He picked a bag of black tea for himself and after dropping it in his mug he leaned with his chin on his hand, watching her for a moment.

"Well, here we are," he eventually blurted out.

She couldn't bring herself to speak. Did he call her here to answer her questions? Or did he just want to talk about something else?

"Listen, I know you've come here multiple times over 'vampire' business..." He started, straightening his back and running his hand through his hair. She just listened patiently. "I'm just- I was wondering why, I guess."

She found her voice again. "You mean, why I think you're a vampire?"

"I mean," he rest his elbows on the table again, "why are you so fixated on me being a vampire? Coming by for four days straight, even leaving cookies and a note - and were you honestly thinking I was gonna sleep for a /decade/?"

She took a hesitant sip. He resumed.

"I just- why are you-" he struggled with words for a second. "What are you trying to do? What do you want me to do?"

"Do you want me to tell you 'I'm a vampire' so you can just go on with your life or something? I mean," he folded his hands together, "just... Help me out here."

She looked at her glass for a moment. "I... I don't know. I mean, of course I'd wanna be right. I guess I'm just... Looking for validation here...?"

She looked him in the eye. "So, are you a vampire?"

"Short answer?" He asked before taking a sip. "No."

"But- the house-"

"Family heirloom."

"You only come out at night-"

"I'm a night guard. My sleep schedule is already royally fucked, okay."

"Haven't you like been sleeping for a few days?"

"Only for ten hours, and after that I saw your message and didn't know what to do about it for a while. So... Yeah."

"And you avoid garlic!"

"I do what now? Lady, I love garlic. I don't see how you got to that conclusion."

"But..." She hung her head right above the table. "But I was so certain..."

"Which is why I ask," he put his mug down with a thump, "whats with all the effort? The chance vampires actually exist is close to zero, you know."

"But-" she unconsciously felt herself lean forward, more towards him, "I just- I know there’s something out there- I want to believe in the extraordinary. I know there's at least something like that and I-“

She muttered something he couldn't quite catch.

"A bit louder for the people in the back, please," he ended up saying, stretching an arm while closing his eyes.

"... I just want to finally be right.”

His eyes shifted to her. Hers were trained on her mug, with her arms propped up on the table, looking pretty vulnerable. And he knew he had no real reason not to, but he felt guilty he'd been harsh the first time around.

Apparently he'd hit a nerve, damnit.

"Hey, uhh," he trailed off, not sure what to do with his arms. He was no good at this. He just patted her shoulder lightly. "Don't worry about this... Setback, okay? Sure, I wasn't exactly what you thought I'd be but... I'm sure next time will turn out better?"

He glanced at her face one more time and saw tears had started to form in her eyes. Yikes.

He was so not good at this.

"This was already my 'next time'..." She admitted before taking a sip. The way she drank that she should've been drinking tequila.

"C'mon it- it can't be that bad..." He trailed, his head running a thousand miles per hour. "You just gotta find another lead, right? Well, then we just gotta start looking."

She seemed to perk up at that. "You're gonna help me?" She asked, more surprised than anything else.

"Well, I owe you for the cookies, I guess." He shoved his chair back and dug in his drawers looking for a pen and some paper. "Okay, so who we got?"

She looked like she was in thought and mindlessly wiped her eyes. "W-well, that old man living on 11th has a weird obsession with dogs..."

He inwardly cheered when he finally found a worn notebook. "Okay, so we got a candidate for a werewolf, what else?"

He heard rustling in the back, with the soft crunching on cookies followed not long after. "Also... There's also this creep whom I always see leaving the hardware store with nothing but tape..."

He pretended to scribble while he kept searching for a pen. "So a serial kidnapper, good, and what about that doctor that got fired last week, living on whatsit uhh something avenue. You know, they had to keep him for a few days for being in 'suspicious condition' or something...?"

"I'm not sure," she said just when he had found a pen. "It could also be him not handling the situation well..."

"Yeah, but he's also a creep."

"True..."

He'd joined her at the table again, having quickly scribbled the three people down in bullet points, the doctor followed by a question mark.

"Well, that's three already and we're not even five minutes further. I'm sure you can do this. You just gotta hit it big once, you know," he said while he laid his hand on hers for a moment.

She flashed him a soft smile while his hand lingered. After a while he felt himself get more and more awkward so he cleared his throat and moved the hand through his hair. "So, uhh, got any more?"

They talked for a while about random people who seemed a little suspicious until they got totally off track and went from cars to dogs to eventually come back to vampires. By that time she had totally reverted from her previous meltdown and was now laughing to a lame snark he had made not even a moment before.

"I just-" she tried to talk through her giggles "I can't believe I thought you were a vampire. You're too much of a dork for the gloomy image."

"What," he gasped loudly, fake hurt. "Well excuse me for not being an uptight jerk!"

"Who said a vampire has to be a jerk?" She countered with laugh. "For all you know they're teddy bears."

"Oh yeah?” He snorted. “Maybe they’re not even what you think they’re like- what you’d call a vampire might not even be one at all!"

While he said it with a chuckle and a smile, after her initial laugh the question took her aback and she stared at him for a while. Her silence made him fall silent and he grabbed his mug for a drink but it was already empty.

"Uh... I mean..." the ongoing silence apparently made him nervous as he fidgeted with his cup, "I've had an ... interest in vampires some time ago and so I've read quite some stuff on them... but... I mean... the books on them are all speculation. What if they're not... What if they're completely the opposite of what you imagine them to be?"

He ended up looking her in the eye by the time he finished his last question, and every single bit of lightheartedness seemed to have evaporated from the room. He looked at her like he really wanted her to answer. So she thought about it, momentarily breaking eye contact. Would she be disappointed? No, of course not. It'll take time adjusting, sure, but...

"You know, I had envisioned you to be totally different," she started, searching for his eyes again. She flashed him a smile. "But I think like you better as you are right now."

A moment seemed to pass but when her words hit home he seemed to turn three shades of red and he coughed into his hand for diversion. She thought it was cute but her remark made the atmosphere a little tense so she added, "I think I'd be able to adapt to a not-so-regular vampire too, if one manages to show up."

They both resided in silence once more, although it was no longer awkward. It seemed to be filled with words unspoken, but it was broken just as fast as it appeared.

He had looked at the clock.

"It's already late, I'll walk you home," he said when he shoved his chair back. He took their empty cups back to the kitchen sink. "I don't think it's wise for a girl to still be out when it's this dark."

"I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much," she retorted, knowing full well he was right. She didn't know too much about this part of the neighborhood to feel completely safe.

"Well, if there really are 'vampires' roaming these streets," he said before turning around with what looks like a torn off wooden stick in his hand, "two are better than one, right?"

"What's that?"

"A stake...?" He answered sheepishly.

"Did you seriously break a wooden spoon for this," she asked with a hint of mockery in her voice.

"It was already broken, take it or leave it." He deadpanned.

"I don't think it's the right type of wood," she muttered.

"Welp," he threw it over his shoulder against the bin. "I'm still walking you home, I don't think refusing is a good idea."

He had already walked back into the hall, towards the coatrack and started putting on an army green jacket. She followed him into the hall, fumbling for the light switch and turning off the lights in the kitchen.

She then turned to him again. "I don't think we've actually introduced ourselves. I sure don't know your name."

He paused, then stuck out a hand. "Well, I'm Tiro. Not sure if I caught your name."

"Ayuya." She shook it. "I guess we did get a rough start."

"Well, don't ask me to 'start over', though. I won't forget you turning up at my door at my equivalent of 3 AM."

"In my defense, trying to make contact with a 'vampire' when he was at his weakest sounded like a good strategy to me."

"What kinda vampire would open his door with the sun all ablaze?"

"... Fair point."

He handed her an umbrella. "If the weather report is right, it's gonna rain sometime soon. You didn't bring a coat, so use it."

She eyed the umbrella, dumbfounded. "I uh... Thanks."

He slipped his keys in his pocket and proceeded to the door. Looking out, it was dark and cloudy like it would rain soon. He opened the door.

"Well, where to?"

She gave him short directions to her apartment complex and they started walking.

"So, uh," he tried to start a conversation after a while of silence, "How long have you lived here?"

"About..." she took a while to think, finger to her lip, "... six months now? I came here as soon as I found a job here. I had an apartment here already, but started actually living here when I transferred jobs."

"Then what do you do?"

"Oh I'm uhh," she seemed a bit abashed. "I'm a barista at the moment. It doesn't pay that bad, and the coworkers are nice," she rambled, missing his surprised look, "and, well, free coffee for me, I guess?"

"What place."

"Huh?"

"At which place you work?"

"At Hipster's Paradise, it's not that good-"

"No kidding! A friend of mine works there!"

"Really?" Her mind browsed through her colleagues' faces. "Who is it?"

"He's a blond guy named Lucas," he grinned with a fond look. "He's been my best friend since, what, middle school?"

"Oh!" Like a slot machine, her mind hit the guys portrait and a jingle played in her head. "Lucas! I know him! He's so nice! I always look forward to shifts with him!"

She eyed him for a little before saying, "Though... you were not exactly the image I had when Lucas talked about his 'friends'..."

She silently referred to his get-up. Lucas was a friendly and gentle guy, radiant smile, kind to even the rudest customers. Then there was mister red with his hair combed back, leather bracelet, army jacket and gothic horror house. Not to mention his moody first impression and vampire suspicions that were only cleared today. Kind of the prime example of what not to expect.

"And what exactly is wrong with me then?" He eyed her skeptically, stopping in his tracks.

"Nothing wrong, but you're just very different. At first glance, I mean."

He snorted and made a gesture to keep walking. "I guess I am."

"Well," she resumed, trying to make it sound a little better, "I guess as a person you would be one of the people he'd talk about. So which one are you, the moody workaholic or the stoic crossword puzzle solving man-child?"

She got a hearty laugh out of him. "Neither, but I do know who they are. They’re old friends of us. Lucas still talks with them over Skype."

She pouted when he said, "Well, next time he talks about me, don't worry, you'll know. Once you've seen me at my worst, I'm fairly easy to detect in stories."

"And your worst is...?" She asked, having a vague idea what it was.

"My morning mood."

"Noted," she said with a nod. She recognized the neighborhood; they were already close to her home.

"Wait, are you the coffee disaster guy?"

"Coffee disa- honestly, how did he tell that story? All I did was come in for coffee, and slightly tripped over the janitor on my way out. Big deal."

"You were holding like five liters of coffee."

"I had to bring for my coworkers too; lost a bet."

"You literally got coffee everywhere; even the ceiling."

"Well I'm sorry for existing. I had literally woken up five minutes before that alright cut me some slack."

She stifled a laugh. "I can't believe I thought the coffee disaster guy was a vampire."

"It's a small town; the odds were there," he said as if it was the biggest truth of the world.

"I can't believe I’m friends with the coffee disaster guy."

"Well excuse me for- friends?"

He stopped in his tracks, coincidentally just outside of her place. She turned more towards him, didn't bother hiding her confused look.

"Well, yes? I mean, this counts as friends, right? I had fun tonight, I believe you did too, so we're friends, right?"

He remained silent for a while. It felt off.

"... Did you have fun tonight?"

"Of course I did. Wouldn't've put up with you if I hadn't."

"Then... would you hate it to hang out again in the near future?"

"Don't think so."

"Then we're friends, right? We can hang out with Lucas and do something with the three of us. It sounds like it should be fun. I think Lucas would like it too."

He seemed like he had doubts. In what, exactly?

"You've already got my number. You're not obligated to anything; just hit me up when you feel like it, alright?"

She handed the umbrella back to him. "Thanks for walking me home, I think you'll need this one more than I will. And a good night."

She started heading for the stairs, feeling a little insecure. Were they not on the same page? Did she miss something?

Halfway up the stairs she felt her phone vibrate.

She went to look at the text she got on pretty much auto pilot.

[I'll be talking to you soon then.]

She read the contact’s name and she spun around, almost surprised to see him still at the bottom of the stairs, phone in hand. She read something playful on his face, with half a smirk he said, "No take backs."

She snorted. "It seems a little too late for that, doesn't it?"

They waved each other a good night and she headed inside, soon finding her apartment door and keys and making herself ready for a good night's sleep.

Tiro on the other hand was still outside her apartment building. Not exactly looking at it, just talking to himself.

"Hmmm alright. Not my smartest move. What am I gonna do now?"

He ruffled his own hair as to banish a thought. "Did I finally convince her I was nothing, and now we’re friends. Why couldn’t I just let myself get off the hook?!"

He just deeply sighed.

"Maybe it's alright. I mean, I think I can trust her. She seems alright."

He started walking in the opposite direction. "Well," he muttered, "out of everyone questioning my humanity she's the one I'd actually considered revealing myself to but..."

He furiously shook his head. "Oh, I don’t think she’d take kindly on me lying about it. Though I wasn't exactly wrong..."

He spotted an alley and after throwing glances around he headed in. He laid the umbrella on the ground. "Let's just hope she won't find out."

He took a deep breath and focussed. Focussed on the wind for a bit. Closed his eyes for a second. Then took his umbrella and took off, like a bat into gathering mists.

#my ocs #cait writes #tiro #ayuya #vampire au #honestly all i do is write aus on my own ocs :):):)

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