#so if I have to narrow it to 2 in addition to Spanish it’s those to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mariinara · 2 years

Note

Hi! Thank you for replying to my previous ask. Can I request Chloe x Elena from uncharted, as a romantic ship, please? Maybe with flirting, a kiss and happy ending. Thank you for! Have a nice day!

Arabella (Elena Fisher x Chloe Frazer One-Shot)

A/N: Ahh. AHHHH. I have such a crush on both of those girls for different reasons but, my god, this felt so good to write. I'm obsessed with this ship now, thanks. (WOULD LIKE TO NOTE THAT THIS TAKES PLACE BEFORE NATE AND ELENA GET HITCHED— somewhere between uncharted 2 and 3)

Warnings: Mentions of murder and violent incidents, use of language, sexual references, blood, stitching, injuries, graphic descriptions, swearing, etc.

Additional notes: uh. this is gay. It's super duper long as well. Pretty lengthy. I've been bringing it together for a while and I think I'm proud of it. Enjoy!

w.c: ~15K

(Fanart by @avali)

San José del Cabo, Mexico:

If Elena Fisher was anything, she was a fearless woman. A tenacious, stubborn, clever one. Though careful, she was willing to go above and beyond to get the job done right, and if anyone can get shit done, it was her. Whatever it was.

So, after having tracked a story from her home in New Orleans for months now, she packed her bags, albeit angrily for being rejected by her production company.

It was just her, a camera, and the confidence that she had a good story to offer the world. With a few strings, she managed to have a co-worker fake a warrant paper to show to the Mexican embassy once there, to support that she was there to look into the case, and– surprise surprise– it worked and she was well on her way to what was deemed to be one of the most dangerous places to be in the world, according to murder statistics.

Six bodies, all hung from bridges near the peninsula, just outside of the resorts' territories. The photos were downright frightening.

That was Elena's breaking point. She had to go. She had to help, somehow. She had to gain allies there to help her out with it. Because, as far as she knew, the most notorious gang in Mexico – The Jalisco New Generation Cartel – was suspected to be responsible for most of the committed murders and human trafficking cases.

She was petrified.

All alone, unsupervised, but with a lead and knowledge that could get her far. She could fight like a motherfucker, too, but she had to be careful.

If she fell in the wrong hands? It's over.

That's how she ended up, in a black cloak and a hood over her head, walking on a sidewalk under the rain at night, bodycam attached to her front, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, head hung low while she discreetly followed a suspected gang member that she'd been tracking for the past week during her stay in a nearby resort.

"Ey, bastardo!" She heard him laughing loudly, exchanging words with who she assumed to be an ally, stopping in front of what looked like a flashy strip club, pink neon signs hung on the wall, nearly falling apart from neglect.

Elena came to a halt and quietly hid behind a wall that led into the alleyway right next to the club, her black clothes keeping her hidden in the heavy rain as she listened closely.

"Está él ahí?"

"Sí. Está esperándote.."

She could speak Spanish. What they were saying wasn't hard to decipher, either. It was clear someone was waiting for the guy inside. Business affairs, probably, from how quiet he was being, and when she peeked around the corner, she saw him being ushered inside.

When she was sure it was fine to reveal herself, she stepped out of her hiding spot, only to be harshly grabbed by her upper arm and yanked back in, and, instantly, she pulled out her handgun and pointed it towards her aggressor, who backed away with their hands held up.

"Woah, sunshine.."

Elena's brows furrowed, her eyes narrowing. God, that voice was so familiar. That accent, too..

The person before Elena took their hood down, hands still cautiously up, since the gun was still directly pointed at her,

The blonde journalist’s eyes widened as she lowered her gun, “Chloe?!”

“That’s my name.” She shrugged with a playful smile while Elena put her gun in the back of her belt, “You really need to learn to watch your back.” Elena watched as Chloe moved past her to peek around the corner.

The blonde frowned, “I appreciate your input, but I was doing just fine, thanks.”

“Oh, really?” Her blue eyes looked down into Elena’s brown ones, “You’re staying in the JW Marriott resort, am I right?”

She was stumped, to say the least. Her jaw fell and she grew very silent, bringing an amused smile to Chloe’s face.

“How’d you--”

“You’re not exactly a spy and you weren’t being as sneaky as you think you are,” Chloe whispered, “You should be thankful that I found you before they did.”

Elena rolled her eyes, “What are you doing here, anyway?”

The Australian blinked, looking like she was offended, “Just so you know, I’ve been here for weeks now. I should be asking you that question, sunshine.”

“What--”

“Just--” She held her hands in front of Elena’s face to shut her up, “Follow me and don’t say a word if you value your life, ‘kay?”

She didn’t even wait for a response and immediately took off her cloak and kicked it to the corner, and the beanie she had on was next, revealing a long, wavy, cheap-looking burgundy wig over her head.

“Is that a wig?” Elena questioned, her brow raised.

“What’s it look like, love?”

“Cheap.” She crossed her arms, smirking a little, “Not your color-- you could definitely do better.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, a bitter chuckle leaving her, “Gee, thanks.” One last time, she looked to see if the coast was clear, “Stay close.”

Begrudgingly, Elena obliged, following Chloe outside of the alley and through the back, tailing her like a baby duckling following its mother.

Chloe was taller, her back was straight and her head was held high. She threw smiles and nods at people whom Elena assumed she knew, God only knew how.

While the smaller American was riddled with obvious anxiety, her companion didn’t seem too bothered at all. Maybe she was, but it just wasn’t as obvious.

This was a game, afterall, and the way to the winning ticket was not to take it as seriously as Elena did.

Elena crossed her arms over her chest and let out a shudder, her gaze falling to the floor when Chloe stopped at the back door,

"Eyy, if it isn't the mariposa." The guy at the door grinned, earning a playful smirk from Chloe.

"Good to see you, Manny." She stood on her tiptoes to look over his shoulder and peek into the dressing room to find no one there, "Oooh.. Am I early?"

He glanced over his shoulder and shrugged, then shook his head, "Nah. They all got to work.." He replied, then tilted his head to look at Elena, who managed to maintain eye contact with him, "Who's this?"

"Oh." Chloe draped her arm over her shorter companion's shoulder, "That's the new girl I talked to you about."

"Ahh.." He nodded and chuckled, "Como te llamas, amor?" He asked.

Elena paused for a second, then gave him a smile and extended her hand for a shake, and– for some reason – the first name she thought of was—

"Crystal."

Chloe's brow twitched up for a second but she kept up the facade, watching the interaction take place without her interfering.

"Crystal.." Manny murmured, taking her hand and– instead of shaking it– kissed the back of it, "Beautiful name."

Elena inhaled sharply, already severely uncomfortable and ready to punch something, but smiled wider nonetheless, acting all coy,

"Gracias." She responded simply, letting her hand slip away from his and drop to her side.

"Yeah.." Chloe laughed lightly, "This is nice— Hey!" She clapped her hands together, giving Manny a polite stare, "We have work to do. Big night."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, sure." He moved aside to let them in. Chloe nodded at Elena, ushering her inside, "Girls." Manny called out, stopping them in their tracks and attracting their attention again, "Have a wonderful night." He winked at them, closing the door to the dressing room, leaving them both inside.

Chloe inhaled deeply and huffed.

"Nice guy." Elena spoke up, reminding Chloe of the matter at hand, "Real sweetheart."

Chloe whipped around and walked towards one of the dressers, looking at herself in the mirror and glancing at Elena– who took a seat on one of the raggedy couch's arms– through there. She scoffed, "Crystal?"

Elena looked up, frowning, "Hey– It's the best I could do!" She defended, "Not like you discussed anything with me before this."

Chloe was slapping on some red lipstick, cleaning the corners of her mouth with her fingers and moving on to the rest of her face, and Elena couldn't help but watch with curious, mesmerized eyes, tilting her head with a small, wistful smile on her face as she fiddled with her hands in her lap,

"It's not bad for someone who isn't used to this.." Chloe admitted, turning to walk past Elena, giving her a smirk as she did, stopping at the clothing rack to find her designated outfit. When she did, she very comfortably started taking off her clothes– her wet t-shirt was the first to go and, despite having her back to Elena, the blonde couldn't help but blush and avert her eyes..

"So, uhh.." She stuttered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "What's the plan..?"

Chloe clicked her tongue as she unclipped her bra with one flick of her fingers, letting it fall to the floor like she did her t-shirt, "Esteban is the name of the guy we're dealing with today.. He's a regular. I.. worked my way up to be his favorite.. " She trailed off, "He should have a cell-phone with him that I'll try to pick-pocket."

Elena blinked, trying to put two and two together as to how Chloe could possibly get that close. Then it clicked.

"Oh. So.." Elena pointed at Chloe, "You're.. getting a private room with him..?"

Chloe laughed, "Heavens, no, love." She responded, slipping into an outfit that left very little to the imagination, "I'll just give him a little lap dance."

"Uh-huh." Elena nodded, picking at her nails, "And.. What am I supposed to do?" She asked.

"You should hang around the bar and wait for my signal." She turned to face Elena, whose eyes widened for a second as she stared at Chloe's nearly bare front.

She was in studded bikini bottoms that were tied at the sides and in a very sparkly, coral colored bra that pushed her breasts up, accentuating them and allowing the dim lights to bounce off her slightly dewy skin.

"Er.." Elena looked away, trying to seem as natural as possible but fuck it was hard, "A-And.. What signal would that be..? Exactly..?"

She heard noises of effort as Chloe pulled on an exaggerated pair of heels, then heard the periodic sound of them click-clacking against the floor, towards her.

And she felt a hand against her cheek, turning her head towards her,

"You'll know." Chloe softly told her, patting her cheek once and her tone completely changed to a playful, I-was-fucking-with-you one, "You're a clever girl, yeah?"

Elena swallowed as Chloe walked past her again, her shoulders dropping as she let out a breath she'd been holding, "Yeah.." And Lord she could hear her heart thumping in her chest so loud it almost defied the faint sound of club music.

And it seemed to get louder and worsen when she closed her eyes to shake off the image of a scantily clad, dewy Chloe from her mind.

So, alternatively, Elena whipped around to find Chloe spritzing herself with perfume, "What am I supposed to do after the signal?" She quickly asked, sounding out-of-breath, like she'd just resurfaced from a long dive.

Chloe looked at her, silent, her eyes studying her little blonde partner, and she seemed like she noticed how oddly she was behaving. Without a word, though, Chloe walked towards the pile of clothes on the floor and bent down to pick her pants up, giving Elena a full rear view— something that she absolutely fucking despised at the moment.

She had to hold herself back from letting out a groan and she only thought, to herself, 'Oh, for fuck's sake..!' as she turned her head away.

"Here." Chloe grabbed Elena's wrist and pulled it up, making her palm face upwards, then placed what looked like a tracking chip in her hand, "I'll sneak out his phone and your signal is to take it, plant the chip instead of his memory card and give it back to me," She spoke quickly, then took a deep breath along with Elena, "Can you do that?"

Elena took a moment, but then managed to make eye contact, smirk, and scoff, standing tall on her feet, "I've done worse."

Chloe stared at her for a while, and then let out a small chuckle, "Sure." She then shook her head and walked past her, a smile still on her face, "Speaking of worse.." She looked over her shoulder, "How's Nate doing?"

Elena's eyes twitched instinctively and she only forced a smile and tilted her head, "What makes you think I'd have any idea how Nate is?"

Oh.

Bitter voice.

Jaw clench.

Arms crossed.

Got it.

Chloe paused and nodded slowly, "You're right." She placed her hand on the knob, turned it, and pulled the door to the actual club open, "Silly of me."

Elena's arms dropped to her side and she rolled her eyes, following Chloe outside the door.

"Remember. You hang around the bar; I'll find Esteban. We meet up back here."

"Yeah, I got it." Elena dismissed, tucking that one annoying strand behind her ear aggressively before taking off towards the bar, disappearing in the crowd and easily growing to be a blur in the distance.

Chloe sighed heavily, "This damn woman.." She muttered, but ignored her frustration, and went on her way towards her goal.

There Elena was, already enjoying a drink at the bar, sitting in a stool, eyes occasionally falling on the unmissable couch in the midst of the scene, arms sprawled on the back of the couch, ladies surrounding him, a nonchalant air about him. An expensive silk shirt and pants. A Rolex. Studded earrings. A diamond necklace.

Yeah, that was definitely him.

And Elena watched the guy she had seen outside earlier leave the couch, looking upset and frustrated, taking fast-paced steps towards the exit.

"Aye! Look what you did, you stupid slut.." Esteban suddenly seethed, staring down at his whiskey-soaked pants, trying to wipe them off as the girl took off in what seemed like an adrenaline-fueled flight response.

Knowing that it was her chance to interfere, Chloe took in a deep, deep breath, then let it out, and straightened her back.

Walking with style was Chloe's thing, and she made sure all eyes were on her as she practically sashayed towards the couch, her head held high and a smirk on her face as she skirted past the eyes of hungry people who just wanted a little taste of her. Of that magic she had.

The girls at the couch all stared up at her once she made it in front of Esteban, and she smirked at them, one hand resting on her hip. She tutted, head shaking in a dramatically slow fashion, "Look at the mess you've made, big boy." Came her sultry voice, attracting the man of the hour immediately.

His eyes gazed upon her in wonder, and anyone could see it, he swallowed thickly as he stared the woman before him up and down, his interest piqued and his anger exponentially weaker.

And Chloe did what she did best. She was going to make him forget about why he was so pissed in the first place because that's what she was so good at, right?

Right..

So, she straddled his lap and ignored the murmurs from the girls he was accompanied with, and she put her hands on his shoulders, rubbing them, watching him relax and sit back, his hands coming up to lazily rest on her hips.

"You don't look too happy, love." She told him, her face so close to his that he could feel her warm breath shattering against his lips, "You still mad at me?" She pouted childishly, her hands going down to rub against his chest.

He opened his mouth to speak, "I'm really not–"

"Shh.. I'll make it up to you."

From the bar, a very particular journalist watched, taking small sips out of her Bloody Mary, her eyes narrowing as she watched Chloe practically slither up against Esteban's body, her lips touching different parts of his skin, dragging up against the side of his neck, up his jaw, and stopping at his temple as she grinded against him.

Elena wanted to look away. She fucking couldn't. And, either way, she was supposed to keep her eyes on Chloe for the "signal". It was a good excuse for her weird staring, right?

She was waiting. Any time now. God— Chloe was really good at this. She moved so effortlessly. Her hips were practically made for this. And Esteban looked like he was starving, the poor schmuck.

Clatter.

Elena's eyes snapped to the floor at what Chloe had dropped behind the couch, and– Oh, shit – it was a silver Nokia phone.

Inconspicuously, Elena stood from her seat, and pretended to walk to the bathrooms, kicking the phone along, trying as best as she could not to lose it in the crowd, her face pulled into a focused grimace.

Once she was at the lady's bathroom, she picked up the phone from the ground and huffed, quickly locking herself in a stall to install the chip inside the memory card compartment. Her hands were so sweaty and clammy and she was nervous beyond belief, but Elena didn't fail to deliver. She stole the memory card and stored it in her pocket, then planted the tracking chip inside.

"Yes..!" She grinned, walking out of the stall, her heart nearly jumping to her mouth when she saw that there was a person standing there, facing her, and she relaxed once she realized that it was one of the strippers working in the club. With a polite smile, she slipped past and jogged out of the bathroom.

Elena slowed down a little once she was out, looking towards the couch to find Chloe still there and.. still doing the thing..

It pulled Elena to take quick steps towards the couch, and bend down behind it, pretending to pick up something, and then she shot up to her feet, tapping the guy's shoulder, "Hi– Excuse me, sir?"

Chloe's eyes widened for a moment as she watched Esteban look over his shoulder at the smiling blonde behind him with an expecting eyebrow raised,

"Is this yours?" She asked, pulling up the phone for him to see, "You dropped it next to the couch." He took the device from her hands and nodded.

"Yeah, Gracias." He gave her a forced smile.

Elena glanced into Chloe's eyes, knowing that she was being silently yelled at, but despite that, she extracted herself from the scenario and began to tread back to the dressing room, not saying another word.

Elena found a few girls in the dressing room, but took a seat anyway, ignoring their glances but listening in on the conversation. Apparently, Chloe had conditioned everyone to think that Elena's the new girl, and she almost reacted negatively when she heard the girls giggling and saying that the blonde looked too boring to play with them. She only stuck to giving them a side-eye and a knowing smile, which was enough to shut them up.

Suddenly, Chloe came through the room's door, eyes immediately falling on the two girls in it, "Girls, Esteban needs you outside. Make it quick." She clapped her hands together as she ushered them outside the door, "Let's go, vamanos, move it." And then, she slammed the door behind them, sighing heavily afterwards.

"Are we good now?" Elena asked as she stood up from the couch, staring at her partner's craned neck and her tense posture, "Chloe?"

The brunette whipped around and got to work, snatching her wig off and aggressively wiping off her makeup, "All set." She finally said, turning to the clothing racks to strip again and get back into her original clothes– just a black turtleneck and a red, leather vest, black pants, and a pair of black boots, "We need to get moving quick."

"We can go back to my hotel. See what we can do. We can relocate when we get a new lead."

"Good idea.." Chloe muttered, opening a locker to take a messenger bag from there, "Follow me."

Elena hurried with Chloe out the back door, seeing Manny there again, having a smoke.

"Hola, girls." He greeted, then tilted his head, "Where are you going?"

"Shopping for her." Chloe immediately responded, grabbing Elena's hand and pulling her along, "We'll be back!" She called, hurrying over to a motorcycle.

Elena grabbed one of the helmets and put it on, and Chloe turned to help her with the strap, tightening it for her, eyes focused at the task, fighting the urge to look into her big brown ones, her jaw tightening along with the strap,

Quietly, Chloe put on her own helmet and hopped on the motorcycle, followed by Elena, who wrapped her arms around her and pressed her front against her back. A few seconds after revving the engine, the two were well on their way, speeding along the narrow street.

Fifteen minutes of Chloe's reckless but impressive motorcycle skills later, the two finally found themselves at the gates of JW Marriott.

Chloe parked, booted the kickstand, and took off her helmet and so did Elena.

"C'mon." Elena breathed out, leading the way to the hotel, "Let's get you checked in for the night.." She muttered, hands in the pockets of her black raincoat, head hanging low.

Hesitantly, Chloe followed, making sure that nobody was tailing them as she did, one hand clutching the strap of her messenger bag anxiously.

Checking her in as a guest in Elena's room was no problem. Only took about five minutes until Chloe had a key card to the very same room and there was no need to pay extra since they would be sharing it.

Fortunately, Elena was cordial enough to stay quiet about what she'd seen tonight and saved Chloe the embarrassment and hassle of having to explain herself– how she got to be Esteban's favorite or how she managed to gain his trust enough to get that close to him were questions Elena was willing not to ask. There could be a million answers, none of which mattered all that much. Much more important things stood at the top of the blonde's priority list.

That made the elevator trip up quiet, apart from "Nice work back there, sunshine" and a shy, polite "You too", no additional words were uttered.

But the silence was loud. They both wanted to ask and say so many things..

The moment Elena opened the door to her hotel room, she was hit with the shorter blonde's perfume scent, amplified about five times, along with the pleasant air conditioning tickling her rain-soaked skin.

"Make yourself at home." Elena said, turning towards Chloe and walking back, arms spread to introduce her humble abode, a small smile on her face.

Chloe carefully entered, as if one wrong step would set off a trap, and softly closed the door behind her, reaching up to deadlock it.

"Whew.." Chloe sighed, putting down her messenger bag on the luggage bench against the wall, "I'm gonna catch a cold.." She laughed lightly.

Elena sat down at the edge of her bed, "You can go take a shower, if you want."

The brunette looked hesitant, her lips parting to say something, but nothing came out but a soft croak.

Elena laughed, "C'mon! You've earned it tonight." She gave her a warm, welcoming smile, "We can talk when you're refreshed."

Again. Chloe was stuck with words lodged in her throat, nearly suffocating her, but she surrendered, letting out a defeated exhale, shoulders falling as she turned to the bathroom, mumbling her thanks with her head hung low.

"Do you have somethin' to change into?"

Chloe came to a sudden halt and turned to look at Elena, eyes wide and hazy, head buzzing with thought, "Sorry?"

Elena grinned, "I asked if you've brought dry clothes with you.."

"Uh— Yeah! Yeah, I've.. I've got some." She responded, turning back to fumble in her messenger bag to pull out clean clothes, scrambling afterwards to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it.

She almost smacked her head against the sink's counter when she looked at the shower, the only thought she had being 'Oh, hey, this is a big shower– big enough for two.'

"Get it together, Frazer.." She muttered to herself, taking the clothes off so quickly like they were burning her very skin, hanging them on the towel rack to leave them to dry.

Chloe finished showering in ten minutes, Elena finished in fifteen, and they were finally sitting down at the provided coffee table near the terrace, chairs scooted close together with Chloe's laptop in front of them,

"Tracker's in working order." Chloe proudly said, a smile on her face.

"Nice." Elena laughed lightly, eyes glued to the blinking red dot on the screen, "Oh.. I forgot." She quickly got up, walked over to the dresser to fetch something from atop, then went back to Chloe and took a seat, "Instead of spending all that time to look through his phone.. I took this.." She opened her hand for Chloe to take a look, and she was happy with what she saw.

"Hm.." She was impressed, taking the little chip from her palm and looking at it, "Not bad, sunshine."

Elena grinned, "Wow.." She laughed, "That was almost a compliment."

For the first time that night, Chloe gave a genuine laugh as she implanted the memory card into her laptop.

"So.." Elena trailed off, watching Chloe traverse between tabs and transferring the chip data to her files, "Why are you pursuing this cartel anyway?"

Chloe took in a deep breath and let it out, "Well.." She tilted her head from side to side, "He owes my employer money. My employer will give me about fourteen percent of it should I bring it back."

Elena raised a brow, "You're doing all this for fourteen percent?"

"They're five-hundred-million US dollars, sunshine." Chloe countered, and immediately, Elena's jaw fell and her eyes widened.

"What?!"

Chloe nodded and hummed.

"Wh– Why does he owe your employer that much money?!"

Chloe shrugged, "Investment gone bad."

Elena scoffed, "And how exactly are you retrieving that money? You do know he's not gonna hand it to you, right?"

Chloe threw her hands up in frustration and sat back, "Yeah– No shit, Elena."

"And?!"

Chloe's jaw tensed and she glared at Elena. She reminded herself that whatever Elena said or did, it came from a good place. A place of concern, definitely. She wasn't trying to burden her; she was only looking out for her because Chloe did have a history of working for and with pieces of shit.

So, her expression relaxed and she let out a breath, and with it, her anger dissipated, "The tracker will lead us to their headquarters. Esteban has business there tomorrow. The plan was to quietly steal the money from their big safe, but.."

Elena frowned, "But… What?"

Chloe tapped her fingers against the table, chewing on her inner cheek, "Those fuckers are diabolical.." She breathed out, shaking her head, "I want to kill them all."

"Now hold on a second, Chloe—"

"I want to kill them all, Elena– I'm not going to." She said, in a 'duh' tone.

Elena stopped herself and nodded slowly, "Okay.." She mumbled, "So you're.. sticking with the heist plan.. Right?"

"Well.. Not so much a heist.." She looked at Elena, "I'm thinking more of a… I use myself as bait..?" She sheepishly asked and she could already see the signs of protest on Elena's face.

"Chloe." Elena closed her eyes and clenched her fists, "No." She blurted out.

"Sunshine, I—"

Before Chloe could say another word, Elena stood to her feet after pushing her chair back, rubbing her temples, "God, it's just like talking with Nate.." She whined.

Chloe frowned as she watched her pacing back and forth, "Hey." She complained, "No need to be hurtful.."

Elena almost laughed but then remembered why she was stressing in the first place.

"I just—" She stopped, finally standing still, her eyes screwing shut as she tried to think of what to say. She only looked at Chloe, lips pursed, eyes pleading— she looked like the words she'd forced down since the beginning of their evening were about to burst out of her.

Chloe only looked back with anticipation, arms crossed, but lips parted and eyes narrow, like she could see exactly what Elena was thinking of.

And just when Elena opened her mouth to speak, the lights in the room shut off completely, leaving the two in darkness that was only slightly illuminated by the moon outside and the laptop Chloe had running.

"Oh, shit." Elena hissed, marching towards the telephone on the nightstand, "I should call the reception, see what's goin' on."

"No, wait." Chloe quietly said, making Elena freeze in her spot. The brunette carefully and slowly stood from her spot as Elena slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder.

The laptop was snapped shut and it was in Chloe's hand at that moment, "I need you to carefully listen to me, Elena.."

As Chloe spoke, Elena's eyes screwed shut, that dreadful feeling washing over her so quickly she could barely breathe properly,

"I want you to hide under the bed and hold the laptop close to you and whatever happens, you don't move a muscle.." Chloe shakily said, then grabbed Elena's shoulders to turn her around so she could look at her, "Look at me." Chloe prodded, giving her upper arms a comforting squeeze. Once Elena's eyes opened to look up into Chloe's, the latter smiled softly, "We'll make it out of here, yeah?"

A moment of hesitation. The journalist knew they had no time to talk this over, and so it was do or die.

So, she nodded quietly, letting out a shaky breath, then put on her shoes, knowing that they would need to break out of here as soon as Chloe was done, and hurried underneath her bed, staying still and as silent as possible.

Meanwhile, Chloe quickly went over to her messenger bag, putting on her boots and grabbing her handgun to quickly load it, cocking it and taking a deep breath.

"Fucking Esteban.." She hissed under her breath before proceeding with her plan, opening the terrace door wide.

As she expected, Elena's room was broken into by force, but the few gang members who entered found no on in there, but were adamant to collect a clue, finding clothes around meant that Chloe and Elena might have left some things behind to either indicate where they're from or where they'll be going, so, the leader they had with them ordered to trash the room and look in every corner for something valuable or important.

And there Chloe was, hiding out of sight in the terrace, waiting for someone to fall for her trap and walk in there, praying under her breath to the lords that Elena keeps quiet and that no one searches under the bed.

Finally, after a while of them trashing the room, one of them walked into the open terrace and looked at the torn curtain that was tied to the railing and floating aimlessly in the air, and he looked down.. bent forward.. a little bit more to see lower…

And there was Chloe's chance. She kicked him off the railing and he yelled as he fell to his death, alerting the others in the room and attracting them away from the bed.

"Peek-a-boo!" Chloe yelled, kicking a smoke bomb towards them and shooting it, triggering a loud explosion accompanied with a lovely smoke cloud. The coughs and confused blabbering were like music to her ears.

And so it began.

Alone, Chloe took on the men in there, grabbing and neutralizing some of them or using them as body shields as she got shot at.

She ended up with two guns to fend for herself with, shooting at whoever dared to come close to her.

Finally, the last bullet in Chloe's gun went through the head of one of the men as he recklessly ran into the room, dropping him right then and there.

Chloe sighed heavily, lowering her gun once she was sure it was over, "Alrighty then.." She put her gun in the back of her belt, "You can come out, sunshine!" She called out, looking towards the bed to see Elena crawling out, the laptop held to her chest with one arm.

"Well." Elena sighed, "That could've gone better." She laughed a little, walking towards Chloe, avoiding the sprawled bodies like their trap mines.

"Don't think so, love." Chloe responded, crouched down, looting some guys from their guns and bullets, "Here." She handed Elena a handgun and a belt of bullets, "You never know."

Elena took the gun and checked the magazine, then closed the chamber and cocked the gun, "Awesome.." She breathed out sarcastically, sounding a little jittered.

Hurriedly, Chloe walked towards the door, peeking out to see that no one was coming to see what the commotion was all about, which was.. strange, to say the least.. They couldn't have combed through the entirety of the floor and the hotel staff like that.

"How did nobody hear any of that?" Elena questioned.

"Exactly what I was thinking.." She muttered, turning to look at her blonde companion, "We might be in more trouble than I thought—"

Chloe was suddenly pushed against the closet forcefully, having been attacked by a woman with a knife in her hand that Chloe managed to avoid by grabbing her wrists.

"Maldita perra!" The woman screamed, struggling against Chloe's stronger grip.

But Elena was quick to react, running towards the woman with a battle cry ripping from her throat, pinning her against the door, "Leave us alone!" Elena yelled, trying her hardest to rid the woman of her knife.

Elena had her forearm against the woman's throat and only then did she get a good look at her face and was reminded of who that woman was— she was the stripper she'd seen at the club's bathroom.

Chloe ripped Elena off of the woman, holding her from around the waist, and pointed the gun at the girl who was rushing towards them to attack them, and it only took one shot to her head to put her down.

And, immediately, everything went completely quiet..

"Oh, my God." Elena whined, her head dropping as Chloe held her up against her side.

"You're okay." Chloe huffed, letting Elena go.

Elena took a second to recover from the incident, her eyes just staring up at Chloe and refusing to even glance at the woman she just killed. That's when she saw it.

"Chloe.." Elena muttered, "You're hurt." She said, reaching out to touch the deep stab wound on Chloe's shoulder that was profusely bleeding.

"I'll be fine." Chloe dismissed, turning around and walking towards the open terrace, grimacing a tad at the sharp pain in her shoulder, "We need to get out of here. Quick. Not through the door, though. There might be more."

With a heavy sigh, Elena put the laptop into Chloe's messenger bag and quickly collected their clothes in one travel bag, "Okay. But you have to—" She stopped when she saw Chloe throwing her legs over the ledge in the terrace, "Chloe?" She started running towards her frantically, one hand holding her duffel bag and the other handling Chloe's messenger bag, "Chloe!" She watched her jumping from the fourth floor, and she let out a loud gasp, "Chloe!"

She reached out for the ledge and looked down, seeing Chloe rappel down with a torn curtain and land on the ground safely. Elena let out an exasperated sigh, her brows furrowing in disapproval, "Are you kidding me!?" She yelled.

Chloe looked up, shrugging with a stupid grin on her face, causing Elena to click her tongue before throwing the messenger bag down to Chloe, who was barely able to catch it, but managed to out of fear from damaging the laptop,

"Okay– Elena? Throw the other one gently now!" She called out, "Gently!" She emphasized, and before she could repeat that world, a duffel bag plummeted towards her, knocking the air out of Chloe as she held it to her chest, "Bloody hell.." She groaned.

"I'm coming down!" Elena called out.

"Oh, really? Just chuck yourself at me, why don't you?" Chloe bitterly called out, bringing a small smile to Elena's face as she held onto the curtains and slid down, gritting her teeth at the burning sensation in her palms but, finally, her feet hit the ground and she struggled to keep balance a little, but Chloe was there to grab her by the arms and let her hold on while she stabilizes.

"Well.." Chloe trailed off, looking to the side at the entrance, "Now we know why no one came to the rescue.." She muttered, seeing the numerous guests being held at gunpoint in the reception, along with some of the staff.

"Oh, shit." Elena muttered, staring at the scene, "We've gotta help them, Chloe." She begged, looking up with pleading eyes at a contemplating Chloe, "Please.."

The Australian bit down on her lip, then huffed and nodded, "Okay.." She muttered, "Okay." She looked at Elena, strong and resolute, "We'll just draw the two guys out here and away from the guests. Give them a chance to escape."

"How, though?"

Chloe huffed and bent down to pick up a rock, smiling as she straightened up and tossed the rock in the air, catching it again, "The good old-fashioned way.." She built momentum. Took a deep breath and assumed a baseball pitcher position, and she hurled the rock towards the glass front door, smashing it to pieces and alerting the three gang members in there.

"Here we go!" Elena pulled out her gun and ran towards the motorcycle, hopping on before being followed by Chloe who just had to flip those suckers off and then deciding to get on the motorcycle, somehow managing to dodge the rain of bullets that ensued.

"Let's go, let's go, let's fucking go!" Chloe yelled frantically as she turned on the engine of the motorcycle as the gang members hopped in a car together. And, just in time, the girls took off, the motorcycle taking off so suddenly and quickly that it nearly threw them off.

"Elena! I'm going to need you to shoot!"

"Shoot what?!"

"The wheels! Aim at the two front wheels! It'll trigger an airbag!—"

"Okay, okay!" Elena held onto Chloe with one arm and pointed the gun back towards the assailants' car, hair whipping everywhere as Chloe sped down the street and out swerved out onto the main road, the sharp turn nearly dropping Elena and the gun, "Chloe— If you keep this up, I'm not gonna be able to shoot anyone!"

"Just hold on! I'm trying to get them onto the highway!"

Shortly, the black car chasing them swerved onto the same street, and an actual, full-fledged car chase ensued, with Chloe and Elena ducking out of harm's way and Chloe breaking all possible traffic laws.

In a way, Elena felt rejuvenated– sort of a twisted sense of life mixed with a terribly harmful dose of adrenaline. She was awake and her senses were turned to a hundred while Chloe expertly and calmly traversed the traffic and helped them avoid the ongoing rain of semiautomatic rifle bullets.

And Elena got an idea. A possibly very bad one. But she was executing it. And as carefully as possible, she lifted herself off the motorcycle seat and shifted her position, ignoring the sounds and calls of protest from Chloe, who remained focused,

"What are you doing?!"

"Just trust me!"

And so, Elena sat at the front of the motorcycle, straddling Chloe, getting face-to-face with her for a moment, giving her a reassuring smile, "I got this!"

Chloe couldn't look at her– couldn't stare into her eyes like she wanted to. Like she would usually love to. Only kept her eyes on the road and stuck to feeling Elena's chest pressed against her and her legs wrapped around her waist.

"Go for it!" Chloe yelled, voice a tad shakier than she intended it to be.

And Elena – confident and absolutely badass – pointed over Chloe's shoulder, sharp eyes focused on the car.

And three shots were fired at that moment. One at the head of a guy who poked his body out of the window to shoot, and two at the front wheels of the car, throwing it off course, causing it to skid and screech against the asphalt as the driver attempted to regain control in all of his panic before tumbling and flipping down the road, hitting a couple of cars as it did. And when it finally settled, it caught on fire.

"Oh, my God.." Elena breathed heavily, her hands dropping to rest on Chloe's shoulders, being mindful of her wound, "I did it!" She started laughing, bringing a soft smile to Chloe's face,

"You sure did, sunshine!"

And then Elena hugged her. Just wrapped her arms around her neck and held on tight, nose buried in the crook of her neck, making herself comfortable.

Chloe just could not believe herself; After everything they'd just been through, this was the thing that almost tipped her off balance. But she kept quiet. Stayed as still as human-riding-a-motorcycle-ly possible. The thick, humid air whipped around the two quiet, exhausted girls as they rushed through traffic.

Twenty quiet minutes later, Chloe finally stopped and Elena seemed to have woken up from a nap, even though she hadn't slept at all, but was in what could only be described as lucid serenity– the nowhere between awareness and slumber. She looked well-rested and peaceful all of a sudden when she lifted her head to look up at Chloe, a smile on her face.

Chloe sighed, smiling back, "We've made it.." She muttered, nodding towards a flight of stairs leading into the base of a building to her right.

Elena took in a deep breath and stretched her arms up with a small moan then looked towards the stairs, blinking, "Where are we?"

"Uhh.." Chloe scooted back and gently un-clasped Elena's legs from around her waist, "A friend of mine lives here." She simply responded, watching Elena hop off the vehicle and take her duffel bag while Chloe strapped the messenger bag around her torso.

"Here?" Elena asked, looking around, "It.. doesn't look like anyone lives here, Chlo."

Chloe found her heart stopping for a second at the nickname she gave her but ignored it, putting down the kickstand of her Harley before leading the way down the stairs, "Yeah, that's why he picked this place."

"He?" Elena chuckled, quickly descending with a hurried Chloe, "Is it someone you really know?"

Chloe hummed, "Yes."

"Is it.. someone I know?"

"Mmm, I wouldn't say you do, no."

Elena paused to frown and raise her brow for a minute, "Chloe.." She warned, which didn't at all stop Chloe from progressing down the not-at-all-sketchy, quiet stairwell, "That's not a proper answer."

"It's an answer." Chloe quickly retorted, "Just hold on. Almost there."

A couple more stairs down and they were faced with a wooden door, the paint peeling off of it from age. Elena already dreaded the creaking sound the hinges would make once they got that to open.

Chloe stayed quiet and raised her fist, knocking in a specific pattern at certain spots on the door and then rested her arm on the door frame.

They only had to wait a moment before the door swung open, revealing someone Elena would not have thought of in a thousand years,

He was frowning deeply, "About bloody time— I've been trying to call you." He raised his smartphone to demonstrate, "Where the fuck 've you been?!"

Chloe sighed, pushing past him to drag her feet inside, "Good to see you, too, Harry.."

"No.." A gaping Elena finally said, her expression falling to one of disbelief.

"Oh, wonderful." Harry threw his hands up, "You got the journalist— You know? You could've just saved the trouble of getting a human and just bought a damn camera to document our little vacation."

"Hey!" Chloe snapped, "You need to shut your fucking mouth and you.." She looked at Elena, "You need to get inside."

Elena opened her mouth to angrily protest.

"Now."

Harry and Elena stayed quiet, only looking completely dismayed as the latter hesitantly entered while the former closed and locked the door after her.

The place looked akin to a remodeled wine cellar. Like it used to hold a bunch of liquor shelves and now it just has random pieces of furniture that did the minimal job of letting one know exactly which room they stood in. And from what Elena could tell, this was the living room.

Chloe collapsed on a chair, her legs barely able to hold her up out of sheer exhaustion,

Harry walked towards her, pointing to her shoulder, "Is that your blood?"

Chloe took a moment to breathe properly and then forced a smile at Harry, "You should've seen the other guy."

"Girl." Elena corrected, "Speaking of dead people." She looked at Harry, who didn't pay much attention to her until he noticed she was staring at him, so he stared back, "You died! I knew you died! Suicide bomber."

"I reallocated 'cause the job was no longer appealing to me, alright?" He defensively and impatiently responded, "Besides, you're not dead, so I don't see what you're complaining about."

"Oh– Y'know what?" Elena crossed her arms, "I should've known it would've taken more than a stupid grenade to kill you, weasel."

"Too bad it nearly had you, though; Must've been embarrassing for you, love." Came his condescending tone and that dumb smirk that accompanied his usual dicking and Elena looked like she was on the verge of using the couch as a springboard to jump and punch his lights out.

"Will it take me to bleed out on this fucking couch for you two to shut up? Because, I swear I'll do it." Chloe interrupted their bickering, the blood patch on her white pajama shirt getting bigger and more concerning.

Elena huffed under her breath, giving Harry one last look before going over to Chloe to check on her wound, getting on her knees then pulling down the wet fabric to see the wide, deep gash in her clavicle. How she was able to move that at all, Elena had no clue.

"Flynn? Be a dear and fetch first aid, will you?" Elena spoke.

The taller Englishman's brows furrowed as he stared at Chloe incredulously, "Wha..‐"

"Harry." Chloe warned, "For me."

He made a sound that signified his surrender and dragged his feet to some room in a corner, "Whatever.."

A low humming noise came from Chloe, which indicated that she was holding a loud complaint of pain back. The wound did not look like it was easy to handle and, with all that movement, it couldn't have been great for her.

"You did great.." Elena complimented, not looking at her but directly at the wound, like looking at oozing blood was something she would've rather done than see the look Chloe gave her.

The brunette could only give her a genuine smile, showing a set of teeth and an endlessly grateful and warm heart.

It was then that Elena managed to look up at Chloe, giving her a smile that could fucking melt icebergs, goddammit.

There was a reason Chloe called her sunshine.

"Here." Harry placed a kit on the table behind Elena, "Now what?" He asked, arms crossed petulantly over his chest.

"Now.." Chloe nods towards the messenger bag she'd left at the entrance as Elena explores the med kit, "You keep track of Esteban and the rest.. Tell us where we need to go next. Come up with a plan–"

"How am I supposed to do that?!"

"Do you ever listen?" Chloe snapped. Again. Frowning deeply, "His memory card is in there. You should be able to access important things to give you a lead and a rendezvous time.."

"You.. took his memory card..?" He asked, in a sort of calm, impressed state of disbelief.

"Sunshine here did." She grinned down at Elena, who only smiled bashfully as she prepared what she needed to tend to Chloe's wound.

"Mmh.." He nodded slowly, "Not bad, vanilla." He teased, a smirk on his face when he saw Elena's shoulders drop in exasperation and heard a heavy sigh leave her.

Soon, he was out of the living room and in his closed bedroom or office room, leaving the two girls outside to do whatever they needed to do.

"Of all people.." Elena muttered with a snort as she soaked a cotton pad with alcohol, shaking her head slowly.

"I mean.. I agree completely." Chloe responded, resting back as Elena cut her t-shirt open with scissors and smiled a little when Chloe would inhale deeply when the cold metal would graze her boiling hot skin. Soon, she was left in nothing but a black sports bra, "As big of a bellend as he is.. He's a fine lad." She nodded, like she was confident in what she was saying, "Doesn't disappoint when you need him, really. If you give him the right push and motive."

Elena laughed softly as she cleaned the blood around Chloe's wound, "He left you for dead back in Shambhala.." She reminded her, "Back-stabbed Nate. Back-stabbed you. Multiple times–"

"Okay, alright, yeah– he's a bit of a wanker sometimes." Chloe hissed softly through her teeth as Elena cleaned her gash, making that humming noise again to swallow a yelp, then relaxed a little when Elena took it easy, "This job.. It hardens you, y'know?" She trails off, eyes focused on nothing in particular, looking like she was ways away, "Self-preservation becomes.. such an important aspect of your crazy life that it reflects on all of your actions." She smiled sadly, eyes trailing down to her lap as she paused.

Elena stayed quiet, only listening to what Chloe had to say.

"You know what I'm saying, though?"

The blonde paused her menstruations for a second to glance up at Chloe, "What?.."

"This field of work.. It either brings out the best in people.." She looked at Elena purposefully, "..or the worst in them.."

Something about the way she said that. Perhaps the way her eyes drifted away. If she could look at herself when she'd said that, she could. There's no denying it, Chloe wasn't the most trustworthy of people and she made a reputation for herself as such. But she was conflicted. Her own actions troubled her. And that alone was proof that she wasn't a bad person; only an individual driven by circumstance. Like anyone with any normal job.

"Hey.." Elena's free hand came up to take Chloe's, holding it tightly and reassuringly, determination in her eyes as she looked into her partner's stormy blue ones, "I know you've brought out the best in me." The blonde smiled, "I couldn't have done anything out there today without you there."

Chloe smiled and then smirked, "Yeah, you would've been a goner." She teased, eliciting a small, but pure laugh from Elena.

"No, but.. Seriously, Chlo.." She trailed off, "You saved all those people today.. And when we get those assholes tomorrow? You will have saved even more.."

Chloe's smirk slowly melted into a warm smile, her eyes softening and her skin gaining this momentary glow as she studied Elena's kind features.

And she squeezed her hand right back.

"Thanks, sunshine.." She whispered, blinking away an influx of tears and swallowing down a lump in her throat, trying to make it look like her chin wasn't at all trembling.

Elena reached up and tucked a stray, black strand of hair behind Chloe's ear, her hand stopping to cup her cheek for her thumb to swipe against her cheek for a second.

Oh, lord, what the fuck?

Chloe panicked internally, her eyes a tad wide and her heart beating frantically in her chest. She studied the look on Elena's face and, oh, Gods, were they leaning closer to each other..?

"Right." Elena patted Chloe's cheek once, her damp skin causing a soft smack sound to reverberate through the quiet air of Harry's small apartment, and Chloe froze, averting her shocked gaze away from Elena's, "You can thank me when I'm done stitchin' you up."

Chloe cleared her throat, trying to hold on to whatever sliver of dignity she had but, wow, did it all just fly out the window that very moment, "Right, of course." She sheepishly responded.

Elena smirked to herself, knowing that she got her back for what she did back in the strip club. But, fuck, was it tempting to lean closer and seal Chloe's lips with hers.

Elena spent a good two hours stitching Chloe's wounds, having to comfort her and calm her down as noises of pain and protest left her while Harry kept himself busy in his room.

When she was finally down, she brought in an arm sling for Chloe, since she wasn't supposed to put strain on her affected limb at all, and Chloe hesitantly accepted it and let Elena put it on her after struggling to put a new, clean t-shirt on.

Elena helped her partner to sit on the couch and gave her some painkillers, then went to privately change her clothes in the bathroom. When she came back, Chloe was knocked out on the couch out of sheer exhaustion. It was endearing. She looked so much more peaceful in her sleep.

Elena could only smile gently and she took quiet steps towards the couch, feeling the exhaustion weighing her down herself that she couldn't help but plop down next to Chloe on the same, worn out, burgundy couch. She was going to keep distance in order to avoid bothering her partner, but Chloe sleepily scooted closer to Elena, touching her leg with hers and placing a hand on her thigh and her head on her shoulder.

Elena froze, her eyes widening slightly and her face was tinted with almost all colors on the pink-red spectrum. She couldn't breathe for a second, watching Chloe's hand as it aimlessly rested over her thigh, a bit too close towards her inner leg. It made her purse her lips and let out a shaky breath from her nose.

When she calmed down, she brought her hand to rest on Chloe's, gently holding it in hers, and rested her own head on hers. It wasn't at all difficult to drift to sleep the moment she closed her eyes, comforted by the warm, beautiful presence snuggled up to her side.

For about five hours, the entirety of the hidden apartment was at ease. It was quiet, for the first time in a while. Quite peaceful apart from the ticking clock Harry had up on the wall and the girls breathing in odd synchronicity. Harry only minded his business in his office room, trying to pinpoint a location for next morning's drug deal.

And five hours later, Chloe had started to open her eyes slowly, brows twitching to a furrow as she struggled to, along with a low moan that escaped her dry throat.

When she lifted her head to sit up properly, she froze, seeing that – somehow – Elena was laying down on the couch and Chloe was on top of her, slinged arm safely away from any sort of pressure and Elena's arm around her waist.

Chloe's eyes immediately widened when she couldn't even open them a moment ago and she scrambled as quietly as she could to stand up, her face burning up from embarrassment.

They were fucking cuddling.

She let out a deep, relieved breath after Elena stopped turning in her sleep, then started to look around for a blanket. Any sort of cover to tuck in Elena peacefully.

Then she spotted one sprawled over one of the kitchen chairs, for some reason, and she quickly moved to retrieve it and come back to Elena.

Chloe crouched down as she tucked the blankets around Elena, not being able to look away from the blonde's pretty, sleeping face. So she settled on just staring at her. Her good elbow was braced on the arm of the couch and her chin rested on her palm as she smiled down at Elena.

She was so engrossed in studying her every detail that she couldn't hear Harry's bedroom door open and close, nor could she hear his hurried footsteps as he ran down the short hallway that opened into the living room.

But she was only violently pulled out of her activity when he spoke up.

"Oh, good; you're up." He spoke quickly, hurrying towards Elena with an exasperated sigh, "No time for that, vanilla–" He yanked the blanket off of her and sat her up, ignoring her sleepy whines and protests.

"Hey!" Chloe smacked his shoulder, to no avail.

"Come on now–" He patted her face with his hands quickly, not stopping until he could see how red her face was getting from frustration and she smacked his hands away.

"What is your problem?!" She yelled, hair a mess and bangs draping over her sleepy, bloodshot eyes, angry puffs of air leaving her.

"No problem now that you're awake, love." He quickly got up to his feet, the two girls looking at him incredulously.

"We need to move quickly." He said, pacing around the apartment to grab some stuff to put in his duffle bag, "And you two need to gear up."

"What?" Chloe stood to her feet and slowly walked up to him, "What's going on? Did you find out where they are?"

He nodded, looking past Chloe and over his shoulder and walking everywhere in the pursuit of God-knew-what, "I'll tell you on the way. Just get ready. We have to be there by seven-thirty."

Chloe glanced at the clock. It read seven. They had thirty minutes to get dressed, gear up, and get to the location. She huffed and turned to look at Elena, who nodded, with the usual fire in her eyes and the determination to get to the bottom of things on her face.

Within ten minutes, Chloe and Elena were in suitable clothes. Elena was in a short-sleeved white t-shirt with a black sweater vest zipped over it and a pair of black jeans and black combat boots. Chloe was in a black turtleneck, black jeans, and her usual boots.

"Here; I got'cha." Elena quickly helped Chloe with her arm sling, deeply focused as she fastened it, biting down on her lip, focused. And Chloe couldn’t help but want to grin, yet it was easy to hold back since she was in a bit of pain, “There.” Elena quickly turned from Chloe after struggling to not make so much eye contact that it’d seem like it was weird, “Let’s get going.”

“Right..” Chloe quickly moved to the exit and Elena followed her out and up the stairs and, for some reason, it felt abnormally nice to have the cool morning breeze brush at their skin that was riddled with ridiculous, suffocating humidity.

But the pleasantries were short-lived, of course. Such was the case when Harry was a companion/partner in any sort of endeavor.

Chloe and Elena halted their hasty steps and stood on the sidewalk, frozen as they stared at a preoccupied Harry, shuffling for.. something.. in the trunk of the so very-not-shady black Honda civic. A grimace was plastered on Chloe’s face as she stared at the Brit.

“Seriously, Harry? A camel leather jacket on an incognito mission?” Chloe questioned, approaching him to take a look at what he was so busy with.

He sighed – exasperated – at her question. As if it was the dumbest inquiry in the universe. Like the answer was so painfully obvious, “I mean there’s no problem with looking decent while turning the bad guys inside out, yeah?”

Chloe cocked a brow but, instead of responding, she saved her breath and stuck with rolling her eyes, once again bringing her focus to the contents of the trunk and – jesus – her eyes nearly popped right out of their sockets,

“What on earth is all of this?!” She almost screamed, face speaking volumes of the fact that she was teetering on the edge of completely losing her mind on this guy, “We’re just three people and you bring us an entire fucking arsenal?” Harry opened his mouth to explain, but snapped it shut again as the Australian before him continued berating him, “What happened to low key?!”

Elena couldn’t help but step closer and look into the trunk, thinking that it can’t have been that bad. But it was. She couldn’t help but cringe at the different kinds of weapons and ammunition stacked so ungracefully and messily in the trunk that she didn’t even know how the trunk’s door closed all the way at all, “Jesus, Flynn..” She muttered.

Harry was faced with two very displeased women who were expecting an explanation any time now. His mouth was open for a while and his hands were pressed against each other and pressed against his chin. He sucked in a breath to calm himself and exhaled through his mouth, then clicked his tongue, “If you’re quite done sucking the soul out of this, I would like to say that we are – indeed – three people, but we are going up against a mini-army of goons and butchers who have no problem serving you up as pork chops for their rabid, caged dogs, so I thought, ‘hmm, how do we avoid getting absolutely decimated by those wank stains?’ Then it occured to me. A guns’ deal.” He finished, staring at Elena and Chloe, who looked at him in both doubt and contemplation. His eyebrows arched up expectantly, and when neither of them quipped back, he nodded once, “Right!” He grinned, then clapped his hands and rubbed them together, “Lovely to see we’re all on the same page.” Harry then checked his wrist watch and hummed in faux pondering, “Unfortunately, it is now move-it-or-lose-it o’clock, so..” He trailed off as he walked over to the passenger seat, providing Chloe with – at least – the comforting idea that it would be her who's driving, despite her injured limb.

Elena and Chloe exchanged looks of uncertainty, but could only shake their heads, with Chloe slamming the trunk shut again and hurrying over to the driver’s seat, wanting to get all of this over with.

_____________________________

“Right..” Harry spoke up, binoculars still held up to his eyes and his jaw slacked from focusing, “They’re going into the port right now.” He murmured, then took a deep breath, “Aaaand they’re a lot..” He nervously bit down on his bottom lip and lowered the binoculars from his eyes.

“Yeah, well..” Chloe grabbed a revolver from the trunk of the car, inspecting it closely, “Good thing we came prepared.” She cocked the weapon, aiming it towards Harry with one eye closed and a smile on her lips, “Those aren’t so bad, Harry.”

He held his breath as he stared back at Chloe, only breathing properly when she lowered the weapon again, “Yeah, you’re welcome.” He looked away and rolled his eyes.

Elena settled for handguns. She liked to be light and unburdened, especially not with weapons.

Harry and Chloe seemed to be very prepared. But neither of them really had a problem with carrying heavy weapons and they didn’t really seem as though they were weighed down by it. Chloe, however, opted for a couple of handguns this time, since she couldn't utilize both arms to fight.

“Okay.” Elena put her gun in her belt’s holster, closing the trunk of the car again, “Are we ready?” She asked her partners, who looked at her, and then at each other, then back at her again, giving her nods in disconcerting unison, “Right..” She murmured, nervousness riddling her, “Let’s get going, then.”

Harry nodded and pushed himself off the hood of the car, “On me, girls.”

Chloe and Elena both rolled their eyes and shook their heads as they followed Flynn through the path that he’d been plotting for the past ten minutes that would keep them out of sight.

Sneaking in through the back windows of the warehouse that’s used to keep shipments was the obvious way to go, but it wasn’t a hundred-percent guaranteed that none of Esteban’s men would be posted up in the back, either.

So, if they couldn’t get in from the back, the only other way was through stealth, and – thankfully – the door of the warehouse was left open in order for the gang to receive an incoming, illegal, smuggled shipment of whatever-the-fuck.

And so, Chloe, Elena, and Harry all snuck down through the port, stealthing their way behind boxes, staying out of sight as much as they could possibly manage to, silently taking down all of the posted up goons in their way, and were able to successfully make their way through the door of the warehouse without being seen. None of the few men outside even suspected that there was anyone else there.

The next step was to wait for Esteban himself to arrive so he could be ambushed. Meanwhile, the three were able to set explosives all over the place, sneaking by guards in different areas to make sure that every corner was secured with an explosive that was sure to take the place to the ground. Everything was so great so far, and Elena was even lucky enough to stumble upon the room where boxes of what seemed to be a shitload of money. She was sure it was way more than five-hundred million dollars. The room was stacked with those boxes, each filled to the brim with cash. She couldn’t believe it. She had to stand in the middle of the closed off room, where she had snuck in through the roof’s window, and just wonder about what exactly it was that Esteban was receiving. What kind of fucking shipment was he waiting for?

But her time was cut short when Chloe spoke in her earpiece, “Esteban just arrived.”

“What now?”

“It’s time for a nice, warm welcome, girls.” Harry spoke, sounding like he just ran a marathon, “See you back at the entrance.”

“Can you make your way back, sunshine?” Chloe gently asked Elena through the earpiece.

“Um..” Elena took another look around, “I think.. I found the money.”

Chloe paused, “That.. doesn’t matter right now, love. Just make your way to me, right?--”

Elena’s face pulled in confusion, “Wait, but– I thought –”

“Elena. Doesn’t matter. Just make your way to me. We’ll talk about it later.” Chloe firmly ordered, and Elena could hear a bit of shuffling on her end.

“Okay, okay.” The blonde moved quickly, stacking boxes so she could reach the ledge and climb out the roof’s window again.

When she climbed back out, she huffed in relief, gently closing the roof of the window behind her, crouching slightly as she did so.

Just when she thought she was safe, she felt something – firm yet dull – press against the back of her head, causing her whole body to freeze. And then she heard the familiar ‘click’ of a gun’s hammer. Elena shut her eyes tightly, cursing under her breath.

“Nice and slow now.” The man ordered her, in a thick Mexican accent, as she slowly rose to her feet, her hands held up in surrender, “I gotta say, that was impressive. But I’m afraid fun time is over.” He said, pulling Elena's gun from her own holster.

Elena acted quickly, spinning around so fast and kicking the gun right out of his hands, rendering him confused for a couple of seconds, which gave Elena a chance to punch him so hard in the face, he stumbled back and fell on his ass with an ungraceful thud. But his grip loosened around the gun, causing them to be flung to God-knew-where, but they were nowhere to be found.

“I beg to differ.” Elena spoke, breathing heavily, her fists raised when she assumed a fighting stance as she kept a safe distance from the once stunned goon who slowly stood back up, “Fun time’s about to begin.” She smirked at him, motioning him to make a first move and come at her, and that’s when both of them charged towards each other.

“Where the hell is she..?” Chloe audibly pondered, seeming visibly concerned for the blonde’s wellbeing. Harry only gave her a shrug as he worked to optimize the detonator in his hand. They were both standing at the warehouse’s entrance, waiting for Esteban to enter so they could bombard him, finally, like they’d been planning, “Oh, good lord..” Chloe once again heard nothing on the other end of her earpiece when she attempted calling for Elena, but it was far too late for any of that, because the large doors of the warehouse started to open up, letting sunlight pour into the relatively dark area that Chloe and Harry stood at.

And Chloe held her breath as it slowly started to reveal the man of the hour. Esteban. Wearing a full suit, walking with a sort of elegance and confidence that was befitting of a man who knew he was untouchable.

Chloe and Harry knew they secured everything, though. Their plan was fool-proof, save for a certain little blonde who was yet to join them.

Elena stumbled back, barely catching herself from falling over, having been swung at by the obviously larger man before her, who was a more cologne-d version of the Punisher.

"Had enough, blondie?"

Fueled by his condescension and the unbearable smirk on her face, she decided to up her game. Stop being straight up violent and improvise something to keep him down.

That's when she merely glanced at a part in the roof she stood on that was starting to cave in. It just needed a little bit of a push. Just a bit of weight and it'd be a well-sized, full-blown hole.

Elena tilted her head at him and smiled, "No." She chuckled, "I can promise you that a few punches in and I'll be well out of your hair. Assuming that you can punch– You can throw punches, right?" She lightly demonstrated a punching action. Jab, jab, punch. Jab, jab, uppercut.

The goon only frowned in confusion at her.

"Well, well, well." Esteban grinned, his arms opened and his goons standing in a uniform orientation around him, all shapes and sizes, wearing the looks of people who were very… resourceful.. in the case of – say – someone made the bad decision of crossing them.

They didn't need to prove anything. The news were testament enough.

"If it isn't Mariposa." He announced, a bemused chuckle leaving him.

Chloe exhaled heavily, her shoulders sagging and a forced smile playing on her lips.

"I must admit… it was quite impressive what you did yesterday…" He was pacing, hands clasped behind his back, but he never left the territory of his henchmen, consistently staying in their midst. Coward. "It puts the entirety of Mexican law enforcement to shame…" He trailed off, "Two foreigner women? Wreaking havoc in San Jose Del Cabo? All alone… tailed by none other JNGC, who did not manage to cause any harm to them…" He paused to stare right at Chloe, then glanced at her arm, "Not seriously, anyway." He looked around, brows furrowing in confusion, "Where's your little blonde girlfriend?"

Chloe groaned, "Gosh– Had I known you liked to run your mouth that much, I would've never come here." Chloe interrupted, which made Esteban break into a hysterical – although terrifying – fit of laughter, making Chloe roll her eyes.

"Right.." He exhaled after he stopped, wiping his eyes with his palms before taking a seat on one of the boxes, "I guess we should get straight to business, then, no?"

"Read my bloody mind." Chloe immediately responded.

"I assume you've rigged this whole place already, hm?" He asked, gesturing to the warehouse with his hands nonchalantly, "To trap me under the crushing weight of my own failure? Is that it?"

Chloe was stunned at first, but resorted to shrugging, "I mean.. when you put it that way, it does sound nice." She chuckled.

Esteban grinned after a couple of seconds of staring and her, then nodded slowly, "It's a good plan, you know? Not too bad. It'd temporarily cripple my importing businesses and I will have lost one of my main headquarters." He feigned an impressed expression, "You're pretty resourceful, Mariposa."

She frowned at him, eyes squinted and her good hand on the handle of her gun, concealed behind her back.

"I, however, believe that the main thing that moves a plan forward… is the quality of resources." A silence fell upon them. One where Chloe was trying her best to be a few steps ahead of Esteban in his thought process, to find out what he was getting at, "For example, I'd hate to recruit someone, only to find out that they'd been plotting for my demise for their own benefit this whole time…" His eyes darted over Chloe's shoulder, and she froze in place when she heard footsteps echoing throughout the silence of the warehouse, only to catch Harry, walking towards Esteban, through her peripheral vision.

And her heart sank to the floor.

Once Harry was situated next to Esteban, his gaze completely changed and his eyes glazed with a newfound icy mercilessness that matched that of the goons surrounding Esteban.

Chloe breathed out, her eyes glossing over with tears at the one person that she trusted more than herself, despite every instinct, every urge that screamed at her to not do it. 'Don't recruit him on this, Chloe. Don't call him up, Chloe. Don't let him in. Shut him out. Shut him out. Shut. Him. Out–'

"I, personally, don't trust people with a profound history of backstabbing, but he's proven himself worthy." Esteban laughed lightly, "I mean.. You're right here, aren't you?"

Chloe's palms started to dampen and her heart started to race and her brain was yelling. She felt it. That rush. Those blasts and shocks that lit her nerves aflame when danger was near. When it was right under her nose. When she could smell the looming dark stench of death.

And, suddenly, all the amusement was drained from Esteban's face. All at once. His face fell to a completely serious, hateful grimace, "Like we discussed, Harry."

"Righty-o, boss."

That's when Harry pulled his pistol out from his holster, clicking the hammer and – with not the faintest clue of hesitation – pointed the barrel towards Chloe, his eyes stern, posture confident and his free fist curled at his side as he stared at his partner. She pleaded him with her tearful eyes as his forefinger pressed further down on the trigger.

She mouthed it.

'Please don't do this.'

He saw the betrayal in her eyes for the second time during his lifetime.

And, then, his gun went off.

Elena had her own problem that was – thanks to her brilliance – being resolved as she charged at the taller man with the fury of a thousand armies coursing through her veins, boosting her forward to tackle the man in front of her so powerfully that it was enough to send him back falling, right on top of the roof's tender spot, ripping through it like it was a wet, rotting piece of cardboard.

And they fell together, down, down, down, the warehouse with Elena on top. He broke her impact. But he fell on his back with a resounding slam that ensured that he was out. The fall knocked the wind out of her, so she couldn't really imagine he'd be conscious after it.

And when she rolled off of him with a groan, she looked up from her position to see Esteban, his body limp and his eyes wide, his temple stained with a deep, crimson red and the grey floor beside him stained with very same violent color of war. And Harry, stood right beside him, smoke rising from the hot tip of his pistol's barrel that was pointed at Esteban's head.

It all went in slow motion from there on out. Harry ran for it, only bending down to grab Elena by the waist and throwing her over his shoulder, running away from the barrage of bullets that rained over their heads from Esteban's henchmen, and then hiding behind a bunch of boxes, with Chloe hiding beside them.

And then Elena was back to her senses, her head still pounding and her ears still whistling from the proximity of the shooting sounds, but she looked at Harry with an incredulous look on her face at the fact that she'd seen him put a bullet through the head of one of the biggest, most dangerous human beings alive. And then her face shifted into concern.

And so did Chloe's.

"Harry? Harry." Chloe shifted a little, being careful so as not to expose her spot and get shot at. Harry squirmed a little, struggling to take proper breaths, his jaw dropped and his hands pressed to his bleeding side, "You've been shot!" She exclaimed.

He exhaled in annoyance, somewhat, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, "Really? Where'd you get that idea?"

She ignored him, "What the fuck were you thinking?!" She nearly shrieked.

He paused and turned to look at her, "Seriously? You want to talk—" He flinched at the debris of wood that splintered off from the impact of the bullets with the crates, "You want to talk now?!"

"Okay, okay, everyone calm down." Elena quickly spoke, "Harry, you need to stay put–"

"What?! No, I—" He tried to move, but Elena held him down by gripping his shoulder and giving him a stern look.

"You need to stay put." She repeated, slower, "And keep adding pressure on it. Chloe and I 'll handle all the shooting."

Harry hesitated, but let out an exasperated breath – just to silently make the point that he could've easily gone through another shooting match without dying – and stayed still.

Chloe and Elena looked at each other, and without uttering a word, nodded in unison.

They broke out into two different directions; Elena took left, while Chloe took right, with their heads kept low and Elena equipped with Harry's rifle.

And a shootout begun between Elena and Chloe and the goons, with the girls switching up positions to surprise them, alternating hiding spaces in order to not be targeted all at once.

Harry had moved as well, opting for laying behind a bunch of metal crates, groaning in agony with every movement her made.

Chloe reported their spot to her own boss, who was to bring over the authorities to the spot to finish this, once and for all, and she nodded at Elena, waving her little communication device at her, which brought a sense of comfort to the journalist.

It all ended in the matter of an hour.

The goons were down, and Elena and Chloe had only sustained a couple of splinters from the crates and suffered scraped knees and ruined clothes and Chloe rendered her temporary cast dirty and slightly looser.

Harry was starting to have blurry vision and his mouth felt as dry as sand paper. His grip was loosening on his bullet wound but the pain would snap him back and make him shoot up a little. He took off his leather jacket quickly, and wrapped its arms around his waist, tying it in a tight nod to stop his bleeding.

And it all fell quiet, with everyone staying hidden until Chloe's boss and his backup of national authorities arrived to the spot, all stunned to see that everyone has been floored in pools of their own blood, including Esteban.

Chloe's boss slowly stepped into the warehouse, taking caution, and then he called out.

"Mariposa?!"

Chloe let out a breath of relief and peeked from her hiding spot, "Gianni!" She laughed, seeing his guard dropping and a smile forming on his face at the sight of a battered partner.

Elena's jaw dropped when she realized it was the guy that stood outside the nightclub and pretended to work there. He looked very different in jeans and a button-up baby blue Polo shirt, but it was him. Except for the fact that he went by Manny, not Gianni. And the other fact that he had an Italian accent now, not a Mexican one.

Medical teams soon arrived and Harry's wound was quickly being tended to while he provided the locations of the rest of the gang's headquarters all around Mexico on his laptop with the authorities' investigative team, occasionally groaning or barking swear words at the woman who stitched up his wound.

"Glad to see you're alive and breathing, Frazer." Gianni smiled at Chloe, who was provided with better medical attention for her shoulder and given a list of antibiotics to buy when she'd get home.

Chloe snorted and waved her prescription at him, "This? This is the life I signed up for."

Gianni laughed lightly at her petulance, but could see the ghost of a smile she had on her face, "Seriously. You did good. Thanks to you and your friends, we can track them down and take 'em by surprise."

"M'yeah.." Chloe muttered, looking with a small at Elena, who stood at a distance, talking to the explosives team about the bombs they'd planted inside, and then she quickly turned her attention back to her employer, "Better hurry. Word spreads fast and they might move headquarters, especially now that Esteban's dead."

"Don't you worry. We'll take it from here."

Chloe nodded slowly with a smile, which Gianni reciprocated, until Elena stepped into the conversation, "Hey!"

Gianni turned to her with a smirk, "Crystal."

She returned the smirk, "Manny."

Chloe chuckled at their silent interaction.

"Good job again, girls." He nodded at them and excused himself, heading over to where Harry was.

"So." Chloe's eyes returned to Elena, her brow raised in amusement as the blonde swayed back and forth were her hands behind her back, "What'd ya think of me back there?"

Chloe paused and snorted out a laugh, "I mean.." She shrugged with her good shoulder, "Not too shabby for a journalist."

"Aww, you thought I was great, didn't you?"

Chloe shook her head.

"You thought I killed it. Say it."

Chloe's lips pressed together and she stopped herself from teasing her any further, her gaze staying at her feet in something Elena would've dared to describe as shyness, "You've been incredible, sunshine.."

That was the most genuine Chloe could sound. That was the most genuine anyone has ever sounded to Elena, to the point where she was a bit stunned to tease Chloe back for being a major softie.

And she was even more stunned when Chloe grabbed her chin and turn the shorter blonde's head to plant a soft, lingering kiss against her cheek that made her face heat up and redden with embarrassment but also set her insides aflame. Her heart was beating in her throat at the thoughts that raced through her head and without wasting another breath, Elena stepped closer to fully close the distance between them and pressed her lips against Chloe's, causing the taller brunette's eyes to widen for a moment before she wrapped her good arm around Elena to pull her against her and reciprocate the kiss with the same passion and depth that she gave.

Elena could only smile against Chloe's lips and wrap her arms around her neck and away from side to side as they continued to make-out on the harbor's dock.

"Ahem."

The girls stopped, slowly pulling away from each other, with Elena stepping back and patting down her clothes to adjust them, avoiding all eye contact with Harry, who stood behind Chloe with an amused smirk and a tilted head.

Chloe cleared her throat and turned around, "Hi, Harry."

He scrunched his nose, not even trying to tuck away his grin, "Hey, Chloe." He nodded towards Elena, "Don't stray away too far; I'll be done with your girlfriend in a second."

Elena scoffed and waved him off, sticking beside Chloe, her shoulder against hers and her fingers discreetly intertwined with hers.

Harry smiled and took in a deep breath, looking back at Chloe, who had her eyes on his side, "How's that doing?"

Harry glanced down, "Oh, I've had.. worse. It's nothing."

Chloe nodded slowly, her lips pursed as the awkward silence filtered between her and Harry.

And he decided to speak up, "Listen, Chloe, I'm.. sorry. About what happened in there. I know I should've given you a heads up, but–"

Chloe scoffed and shook his head, then glared up at him, "I could punch you in the teeth right now."

Harry stayed silent, but broke into a smile, "What's stopping you, then?"

Chloe felt Elena's hand leave hers and move to her lower back, rubbing it in a comforting, circular motion. That's when the Australian lunged at Harry, but instead of the punch everyone was expecting, she held him in a tight hug that made him stumble back and nearly gasp in surprise, but he slowly hugged her back, patting her back awkwardly at first and looking at Elena, who was smiling with her arms crossed. It was then that he hugged her back properly, being careful of her shoulder.

And then they patted each other's backs in a manner that siblings or pals would, pulling away from each other.

"Thank you." Chloe managed to say through tears, and Harry only gave her a weak chuckle and playfully and gently pushed his fist against her jaw.

"Don't mention it."

After a short silence, Elena stepped in again, "So!" She looked up at Harry, "What's next for the unkillable Harry Flynn?"

He inhaled the salty air of the ocean deeply and looked to the side, towards the sunset in the horizon, his eyes squinted and his face pulled into deep contemplation, "I think it's enough hiding for me…"

"Mmm." Elena and Chloe nodded in agreement.

"It's also time for me to take some time off for myself. Just for a while." He shrugged sheepishly and turned his head back at them, smiling.

Chloe chuckled, "I'd say. You nearly died twice in the span of just one year."

Elena and Harry laughed at that, knowing that they could relate on one of these incidents, since they both ate up the same shockwave from the same grenade.

"Right.." He breathed out, "Girls. It's been a bloody pleasure." He gave a half-assed salute.

The girls smiled and each stepped forward to hug the third agent of chaos goodbye.

"Call me if you need anything." He said as he limped away.

Chloe chuckled, "Don't hold your breath, Flynn!" She called back, receiving a middle finger from him as he walked off to an escort car to be taking him wherever the hell it was he was going.

"On the subject of relaxing and taking time.." Elena trailed off as she walked along the dock with Chloe, "You're not planning to do any of that, are you?"

"Mmm, hell no."

"Good, good, I thought so— So–"

"Oh, no."

"I haven't even said anything yet!" Elena laughed incredulously.

"You don't have to; you're fidgeting and I know what that means."

"Okay– But– Hear me out. What if you continue to take odd jobs like this one and I join you and document them, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"A-And I occasionally help out with some of the pow-pow-ing."

Chloe sighed, "That doesn't sound so bad."

"Great! I suggest we split the profits fifty-fifty."

Chloe scoffed, "Fifty-Fifty?!"

"Fine! Forty-sixty!"

Chloe paused, "Thirty-seventy. That's all I can give you."

"Thirty-five–Sixty-five."

Chloe paused again, then chuckled, "Alright then. You've got yourself a deal, sunshine."

"Yes!" Elena pumped fists with the air, before Chloe grabbed her again to kiss her at the edge of the dock, silencing the giddy blonde and calming her down.

Chloe regretted a lot of things in her life, but Elena? She doesn't think she'd ever regret choosing her.

#uncharted fluff #elena fisher #chloe frazer #elena fisher x chloe frazer #uncharted #fanfiction #I LOVE THEM!!

17 notes · View notes

dustedmagazine · 3 years

Text

Ian Mathers’ 2020: We’re stuck inside our own machines

I’ve had a song I loved in high school and haven’t thought much about since stuck in my head. The song “Apparitions” by the Matthew Good Band is a fine example of the alt rock of the late 90s; if you grew up then but somewhere down in the states (or elsewhere) instead of my southern Ontario you may well have your regional equivalents, and like this one they may not resonate terribly strongly outside of their time and place. It popped back into my head after a long time recently and of course 2020 has changed it a little. A song that as a teen I felt keenly as about loneliness (albeit also about how technology can feed into that) of course now plays on my nerves as another small piece of art about the way that most of us (those scared and/or responsible anyway) have only that relatively narrow, technologically mediated connection to the people we love. All of us, artists and listeners alike, are trying to fit our feelings and art and selves down these little connections, with some success.

On a personal level, 2020 wound up being stressful in ways we couldn’t have predicted even after the pandemic hit. In circumstances that could have seen governments on this continent support those unable to work (and those who shouldn’t have to), support those workers who are truly essential, support workers and renters and even landlords and small businesses, instead we got a near-total abeyance of those governments using the resources we provide them with to save any of us. On a personal level my wife and I were lucky enough to be able to work from home (not that it didn’t come with its own forms of stress, and now that I’m off until January I have several work/stress-related illnesses to recover from) but still saw friends and loved ones lose good, used-to-be-sustainable livings overnight, saw family businesses succumb to a near-total absence of effective government support after months of trying to keep above water, etc.

It is probably no surprise that this is not a situation conducive to listening to music, let alone writing about it; I have deliberately and happily kept busy on behind the scenes stuff at Dusted that I could still manage but looking, at the end of the year, at the amount I managed to actually create is demoralizing if not at all shocking. I’m not sure I think next year will be ‘better’ in many important ways, although at our job there is a growing feeling among coworkers that next year has to have some work/life balance because 2020 was, maybe more than anything else, unsustainable.

That’s not to say I didn’t spend a lot of time and emotion on music this year, and if nothing else constant sleep deprivation, stress, and panic meant I was probably open to being deeply moved by all sorts of art even more than normally (it’s gotten to the point where I can’t even read a sad or moving twitter thread out loud to my wife without getting teary, which is kind of… nice?). Funnily enough the band that did the most to keep me sane didn’t really put out anything in 2020. Personal favorite, Low, instead started, in early April, getting on Instagram with something they called on whim “It’s Friday I’m in Low.” With one brief break they have now done by my count at least 35 shows (catalogued here, by the way), every Friday at about 4 my time.

Admittedly it’s easier for Low to pull this off than some bands, since the 2/3 of the trio that sing are a married couple (they’ve had a couple of socially-distanced backyard shows with bassist Steve Garrington, but he’s mostly been isolating elsewhere). These shows have seen the band’s Alan Sparhawk take a mid-set break to do follow-up phone interviews with the acts featured in the COVID-curtailed touring bands series Vansplainingthat they started on YouTube, or just to give a tour round their vegetable garden and talk tips. It’s seen Alan and Mimi Parker draw on their impressive, 25+ year body of work (averaging 4-5 songs a set, I don’t think they’ve repeated themselves yet) and talk a bit between songs about pandemics, politics, song choices, and whether Alan should grab his bike helmet this time.

They’re not the only musicians out there speaking love and sanity (and playing music) into the strange digital interzone filled with hate and disinformation where we’ve all been forced to gather while locked down, but they were and the most consistent and steady signal being emitted each week. No matter how tired I was from work or what new symptoms I’d developed or what horrific thing I read into the news, even if I had to take an emergency nap while it was actually airing, every Friday the show was there. Once things do return to something more like normal, it’s one of the few things I’ll unambiguously miss about this weird-ass year.

So if that makes an argument for Low as my band of the year (admittedly again… it’s not like Double Negative has aged poorly, either), that does a disservice to those 2020 records I did connect with; even if there are still literally dozens I have to go through, many of which I expect to love, my top picks this year (if as unrankable by me as always) hit me as hard as any top pick in recent years did. So here I present a quick and informal top 5, which the rest of my top 20 following in alphabetical order. Here’s hoping for more time and space in 2021 for music, and even more than that, for more support for those who need it from those who could have been providing it all this time. (The Matthew Good Band, incidentally, always did best with their ballads. “Strange Days” is another I’ve had in my head these days; the image of moving “backwards, into a wall of fire” has stuck with me since the 90s and it’s never felt more grimly appropriate.)

Greet Death — New Hell

New Hell by Greet Death

This one is, in some sense, cheating; it came out November 2019. But that just means it’s the latest winner of my personal Torres Prize for Ian Being Late to the Party (so named because becoming slightly obsessed with Torres’ Sprinter just after I sent in my 2015 list was the first time I noticed that one of my favorite records of each year tends to get picked up by me just after I call it quits on the year, no matter how long I try to wait). This very doom and gloom slowcore/metal/(whatever, just know it’s heavy) trio at first felt very much like my beloved Cloakroom (whose Time Well has also won a Torres Prize) but sure enough nuances revealed themselves. Back in February it felt almost a little too negative, but then the rest of 2020 happened. And the extended burns of “You’re Gonna Hate What You’ve Done” and the title track remain searing.

Holy Fuck — Deleter

youtube

Probably the record I’ve been trying to write about the longest in 2020, and the one I’m most disappointed in myself that I just couldn’t get the requisite paragraphs together. It’s a wonderful effort from the consistently great Toronto resolutely human-created (and —mediated) dance music quartet, one that both feels like a summation of everything they do well, and with the addition of some outside voices (including strong turns from the singers of both Hot Chip and Liars) a step forward at the same time.

Spanish Love Songs — Brave Faces Everyone

Brave Faces Everyone by Spanish Love Songs

As the year got worse, this roar of defiance only got more crucial for me to hear every so often; I was a big enough fan of it, even after writing it up for Dusted, that when they solicited fan footage for a subsequent music video you may just be able to get a glimpse of me in it. (I’m the one in a “No Tories” t-shirt.) My punk rock-loving twin brother was the one who introduced me to Spanish Love Songs and we were supposed to spend an evening in June screaming along to them live in a packed, sweaty room. I need that in my life again.

Julianna Barwick — Healing Is a Miracle

Healing Is A Miracle by Julianna Barwick

It’s a sign of what 2020 has been like here that even just this album title leaves bruises, and while I privately worried Barwick would have a hard time following up 2016’s sublime Will (probably my favorite record that year), it seems that continuing to take whatever downtime she needs to keep focusing and refining her particular muse has once again yielded amazing results. Anyone who thinks they know what a Barwick track sounds like should really check out, say, “Flowers”, but much of this record absolutely sounds like Barwick, just even better than before. She also boasted my wife and I's favorite streaming concert of 2020, an absolutely gorgeous rendition of this album with Mary Lattimore showing up.

Phoebe Bridgers — Punisher

Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers

I joked on Twitter recently that I have far too nice a dad (and far too good a relationship with him) to be as obsessed as I am with Phoebe Bridgers’ “Kyoto”, but here we are. Like most of her generation, Bridgers’ social media presence ranges from shit-posting to inscrutable, but even though things are often just as hard to figure out in her beautiful songs (as they often are in life), there’s an emotional clarity to them that can just grab you deep down. Couple that with seriously impressive songcraft and the progress from her already astounding debut Stranger in the Alps and more than anyone else in 2020 I’m excited to see just where the hell Phoebe Bridgers is going to go, because it feels like she’s talented and hardworking enough to go just about anywhere and drag a lot of our hearts with her.

Other Favorites

Aidan Baker & Gareth Davis — Invisible Cities II

Anastasia Minster — Father

Deftones — Ohms

Hum — Inlet

Kelly Lee Owens — Inner Song

Mesarthim — The Degenerate Era

Perfume Genius — Set My Heart On Fire Immediately

Protomartyr — Ultimate Success Today

Rachel Kiel — Dream Logic

The Ridiculous Trio — The Ridiculous Trio Plays the Stooges

Sam Amidon — Sam Amidon

Shabason, Krgovich & Harris — Philadelphia

Stars Like Fleas — DWARS Session: Live on Radio VPRO

Well Yells — We Mirror the Dead

Yves Tumour — Heaven to a Tortured Mind

Five Reissues/Compilations/etc.

Aix Em Klemm — Aix Em Klemm

Bardo Pond — Adrop/Circuit VIII

Charles Curtis — Performances & Recordings 1998-2018

Coil — Musick to Play in the Dark

Hot Chip — LateNightTales

Ian Mathers

11 notes · View notes

zertzertzhang · 4 years

Text

Stand and Deliver: My Life Turned Upside Down CH.2

A/N: This is my first time writing on Tumblr, so please bear with me! I am usually active on FFNet and AO3, but since this fandom is basically nonexistent except for here, I thought maybe I could post my works for this movie here. The story is a fanfic based on the 1988 movie ‘Stand and Deliver’ starring Edward James Olmos, and taking a deeper look into the lives of the impoverished students in East LA.

Eventual Angel/OC, and warnings of racial slurs with some physical violence.

First chapter link here > https://zertzertzhang.tumblr.com/post/627185848305270784/stand-and-deliver-my-life-turned-upside-down

Chapter Two: Circus

The second Vianne stepped out of the car, she realized her mistake. The school wasn’t what she expected at all. Garfield High broke the scale...in a bad way. Chipped walls decorated the main hall, flooded with overflowing trash bins and rusty pipelines. It had to have been decades since the last renovation, with the building looking like something she saw from abandoned prefectures.

Like all other complexes she’d seen around there, the place was standing on its last two feet. This was supposed to be the best building around.

Her white Giuseppe sneakers stepped on something sticky, and it was a challenge to hold in a disgusted snort. There was dried gum everywhere on the sidewalk, making Vianne wonder why they even bothered with trash cans in the first place. She winced when it was clear that her shoes would be torn to shreds by the end of the day.

Then came the worst part of her arrival; people stared. And it wasn’t some half-assed look you gave to a passersby on the streets. Students were either throwing her a look-over or straight on gaping. It could’ve been the way she was dressed, or the fact that she was probably the only Asian mingling in the midst of Latinos and very few Caucasians. Most likely both.

Ironed blouses and slim denim were not in fashion around here. Among the rest of the population with oversized shirts and baggy mom jeans, Vianne was the runt of the litter. She wanted to jump back into the car, go home, and put on an invisibility coat. The dirty look she saw from some of the girls did nothing to calm the queasy storm in her stomach.

“-That fresh meat?”

“It’s a fuckin’ chink. What’re they doin’ here?”

“Heh, looks like a lost puppy.”

The boys were doing a terrible job at whispering. Vianne wasn’t sure if it was an attempt at passive aggression or just plain stupidity. She glared in their direction, lips pulled into a slight frown as she entered the building. A cold sweat broke through her back, stretching its spindly fingers around her body in a tight cocoon.

Ignore them and get on with it.

Her mind screamed at her to keep walking, and she obliged. Repeating the mental mantra, Vianne soon found her way into the main office with her slip in hand. A handful of police officers crowded in one tiny space, speaking in rapid Spanish. Order did not exist in this school; the secretary was talking to five people at once, without the time to think about the things she said. Voices filled with agitation hung in the air.

Vianne was this close to thinking she had entered the wrong room when a small figure spotted her from behind.

“Miss? Can I help you?” A small tap on her shoulders sent her whirling around in alarm. Her little outburst startled the short woman behind her as well. When Vienne finally registered the lack of threat in front of her, her cheeks flushed bright red.

“Sorry! I’m looking for Racquel Ortega. It’s my first day and I was told to come here to get my finalized schedule.” The young woman spoke so fast she swore her lips would fall off.

The curly-haired woman in the maxi dress looked surprised. “Ah, that would be me. Are you Vianne Yang.”

Vianne nodded. “I was supposed to meet my TA instructor for math. It’s my first period.”

Ortega smiled warmly. “Yes. Welcome to Garfield High. Please follow me.” She held out a hand, and Vianne shook them without hesitation.

The duo weaved back and forth in the crowds, desperate to dodge the flying paper balls. Ortega would yell once in a while at a group of boys before pointing to the office behind her. The way her docile demeanor went from zero to a hundred freaked the young woman a bit. But Vianne couldn’t blame her. Had she been in her shoes, she would’ve quit before she even started.

As it turned out, her instructor was a retired engineer. Of all places, Vianne didn’t expect that to come from a high school teacher, particularly in this neighborhood. Ortega did an excellent job at filling in the details. It would seem that Jaime Escalante needed a breath of fresh air from the corporate environment.

Vianne almost felt sorry for him. There was no relaxation here; she’d be surprised if the teachers weren’t dropping dead from exhaustion because of the students. Garfield, from what she’d seen so far, could drive a devout nun to insanity.

The increasing voices of everyone around spiked her anxiety to new levels. She was doing her utmost best to not break down and cling onto the older woman for dear life. The mass of bodies was like an unforgiving current, threatening to wash her away if she slipped up.

They reached a door with the sign ‘Math 1A’ scribbled on the whiteboard next to it. Someone had decided that a drawing of a dick was appropriate to be placed right under the description. The person even added a smiley face onto the artwork, showcasing their enthusiasm. Real classy.

“Racquel please come to the front desk. Racquel please come to the front desk.” Ortega’s walkie-talkie crinkled pitifully, before choking out a command. The math advisor sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She nudged Vianne closer to the door.

“Here’s the classroom. Mr. Escalante should be there already. Good luck with your school year.” A tight smile appeared on Ortega’s face, and within seconds, she was making a mad dash back to the main hall. All alone, Vianne was left standing there feeling like a complete fool. She blinked at where Ortega was previously, and the sense of dread overwhelmed her. On cue, the bell rang its warning. Everyone groaned in unison like a chorus before the wave of students began flowing into the classrooms.

Lucky for her, she had no need to run to class. Grabbing the nob with renewed strength, Vianne pulled herself into the room. There was one person at the front desk; a middle-aged man nearing his sixties stood near the chalkboard, hand moving furiously as he wrote down an equation. She prayed that this was going to be the right person.

“Mr. Escalante?” Vianne cringed at her pronunciation of his name. She herself knew what it was like when people screwed up hers in the past. But this man had an entirely different level of difficulty. Ortega’s way of saying it felt so natural compared to hers, which sounded like an insecure toddler butchering their first word.

The man turned his head to face Vianne, eyes widening a fraction. His oversized glasses gave him a sage-like appearance despite the head, or half-head, of dark hair. The bald spot in addition to his very casual attire made her think of a grandpa who was likely to yell at the kids across the lawn.

At the sight of her dumbstruck state, he quirked his lips. “Yes, how may I help you?”

The slight South American accent trailed after his speech, giving away his ethnicity. Vianne felt her mouth open and close, but the nervousness took the words from her mouth. She stuck out her hand that held the transfer letter. Escalante better have known about this, or she’ll flip a lid.

“I’m Vianne,” she explained. “Your TA. I think Mrs. Ortega already told you about me?”

Escalante’s brows rose to new heights, his amused smile broadening. “Yes! Miss Yang, is it? Welcome to my class!” The elongated hiss in his way of speech, coupled with the wild gesture of his arms painted the picture of a mad scientist in her head. It was nearly endearing.

“I’m afraid there’s not enough chairs for an extra student,” Escalante said. “Please stand here and wait for everyone to arrive so I can take a headcount for the others.”

Vianne obeyed without a word and flattened herself against the wall next to him. In response, the door was barged open, and the group of students flooded the room like a swarm of wasps entering their hive. Restless chatter buzzed her ears as she took note of everyone that rounded the class. It was hard to catch what most of them were saying; Spanish wasn’t the language requirement she took back in Napa.

Knowing French wasn’t the best course to help her in this situation. And even then, she only took it up to level two. The people before her all wore the same dazed expression, jeering in loud volumes and hooting on the sides.

Someone shot a rubber band across the room, hitting one of the boys square in the face. Angry shouts erupted from both sides as the rest of them began to laugh at the brawling duo. More paper balls were thrown, and Vianne could hear some of them yelling ‘bitch’ to one another.

It was a fucking joke. The whole class was a joke––scratch that––the whole school was a joke. And Vianne was the poor audience that bought the overpriced ticket to the hellhole circus. There was not a word that could describe the boiling feeling in her gut. She couldn’t believe it; this was the place she had to deal with for another year.

There was no way the teachers here could’ve survived each day without going into a catatonic state before school ended. Vianne drummed her fingers against her books without mercy. A panic attack was just inches away from happening if the class refused to settle down. And from the look on Escalante’s face, it would appear that they shared the same sentiment.

A scowl donned his face, creasing the heavy lines on his forehead. If it weren’t for Vianne’s distracted state, she would’ve been frightened by those narrowed eyes.

“Come now!” Escalante’s voice boomed throughout the small room. “You don’t want no mama’s chancla when you get home, no? I’d love to see you fight with your parents around.”

The overt threat was not lost among the students, with some of them slinking away in defeat. Others ‘booed’ at the command, but made no extra attempts to disrupt the already late start of the lecture. It took about five minutes to get their total attention to the board, and that alone fried Vianne’s brain.

“Orale!” Escalante’s mood quickly brightened at the cooperating mass, his smile twinkling with interest. “Allow me to introduce my new TA. She will be your lovely assistant for the rest of the school year. Any extra questions, she will answer for you.”

His hands gestured to her like a magician preparing his new subject for a spin. But only in this state, nothing was magical. It became clear that Escalante was waiting for her to present herself; the man eyed her expectantly, his grin not budging an inch.

Vianne felt her cheeks flush so hot that it put the musty LA weather to shame. Clearing her throat, she stepped forward. “Hi, uh, I’m Vianne. It’s a pleasure to meet you all...uh, hope I could be of some help.”

An urge to facepalm was strong. Had her grades been irrelevant to her stay in Math 1A, she would’ve made a beeline for the door. The reception after her introduction was a nightmare, because everyone began jabbering all at once.

“The fuck?!” A young man with a messy afro glared at her. His buddies around him sniggered in agreement.

In the front, a chubby male with curly hair snorted. “Booooring!” His female friends rolled their eyes and swatted him on the shoulders. But their giggles weren’t held in for long.

Vianne wanted to find the nearest cliff and throw herself from it. If she converted to Buddihsm now, maybe she’ll even have a decent shot at getting a nice reincarnation.

“First you, now the chink?! This is messed up man!” A few more hostile tones rose from the back.

Her eyes flared. Vianne changed her mind; she didn’t want to throw herself off a cliff anymore, she wanted to throw them. Her body trembled with brewing rage under her skin. The nerve of the scoundrels! As if she wanted to be here! If it were up to her, she wouldn’t even spare them the time of day. Like an uncontrollable tick, her temper fired in sparks. A snide retort was about to make its way to the public when Escalante’s hands came up in a flash.

“Silence!” The tone of his command left no room for arguments. “Another remark as such, and all of you will be spending Saturday school for a month!”

The teacher was practically bristling from head to toe. His friendly disposition came and went at a dizzying speed, tugging Vianne onto an emotional roller-coaster. However, she was nonetheless grateful for the save. One thing was for sure, skin color was not up for debate in his classroom. At least she found an ally in desperate times.

At his outcry, the students grumbled amongst themselves and quieted down. She still received dirty looks from the girls, but they were mostly silent. One youngster in the front row with earrings gave her a lopsided grin and tutted with refined casualness.

“Yo ese! Does that mean if you assign sex homework I can ask her number?”

A few other boys cheered from the back, throwing their thumbs up as if they heard the best joke in record time. The girls cringed and sent disgusted scowls their way, with one of them commenting about how horny the bastards were. Only one person in the audience didn’t react. The girl with short, curly hair looked at Vianne, a pitying stare adorned her guise.

Humiliation wasn’t something Vianne dealt with on a daily basis. And the sudden onslaught nearly had her burst into a tearful temper tantrum. Glancing over to Escalante, she could see the patience waning from him as well. The class was saved from another wrath from either of them when the bell rang again.

Without a second thought, everyone except for the girl with short hair bolted for the door. The insult Vianne had prepared was lodged in her throat, unable to make their move. Was this a mistake? She was sure that it wasn’t even halfway through the first period, they still had more than an hour left. Time was a foreign concept to her in this town, and she figured her mind must’ve been playing tricks on her.

“Um, is class over?” It was a rhetorical question. But what answered her caught her off guard.

“Give it a minute,” the girl said. Her pencil tapped with a delicate rhythm against the desk as she wore a tired expression. Vianne stared at her with disbelief before turning her head to the instructor. Like the girl, Escalante showed no interest in leaving, instead opting to go towards the window.

Curiosity got the best of her, and she soon joined him by the blinds. “What’s going on?”

“They rigged the bell again.” From Escalante’s frown, she reckoned that this was a common occurrence. Following his gaze, her eyes landed on a group of young men congregated before the main school alarm. All of them were donned in dark clothing, wearing baggy jeans and beanies. The distance made it hard to see their faces, but Vianne thought she caught sight of a tall figure moving amongst them. He was laughing obnoxiously, while engaging in a bro-shake with a shorter male.

None of that was relevant, though, because the bell rang again, this time from the superintendent. His red face deepened to a shade of purple as he and the principal began their rounding of the rioting teens. The mob of students were herded back to their respective classrooms, all groaning and whining at the ‘unfair treatment’ of their lunch break.

“Lunch isn’t for another two periods!” Principal Molina shouted. “Get back to class!” His finger pointed to the doors, and his eyes bulged like an angry bull’s.

“Shut the fuck up!” A few students jeered. More paper balls were thrown, but there wasn’t anything Molina could do about it.

All the while, Vianne and the girl sat dumbstruck as they stared at the whirlwind of people coming back to their seats. Vianne swore that if this was how it was going to be for the rest of the day, then she’ll gladly accept them leaving on their own accord.

After another ten minutes wasted on trying to get her classmates to settle down, Escalante wiped his brow with a handkerchief. The toll of the students had taken its effect on him as well. But the sly grin never left his face, unbreakable like hardtack.

“I told you it was futile to escape,” he taunted softly. “There’s always a bigger fish in the pond.”

Vianne sent him a disbelieving look. Was the man not afraid of backlash? But the rest of the class only ignored him and glared, defeated. The class TA let out a breath of relief, for a moment she feared that it’ll lead to another brawl, this time at the instructor.

“Turn to page fifteen! And I want all of your homework turned in to Vianne right here. Once you’ve done that, work on problems one through ten on the multiplication of fractions.” The command was calm and precise, not a word stuttered. Escalante corrected the glasses on his nose and squinted at the chalkboard, not giving a fuck about the moaning teens.

It was Vianne’s cue to get to work. She didn’t hesitate, and began roaming around the room collecting wrinkled papers. With time, she learned that the girl who stayed behind was Ana, the frizzy-haired girl behind her was Claudia, and next to Claudia was the redheaded Lupe. Neither of the two gave Vianne much of a glance, preferring to ignore her existence as she took their homework.

Not bothering to tell them about the mutual disdain, Vianne clicked away happily. She soon found out that the man who kept asking for sex was Tito, his lopsided smile broadening when she came to take his paper.

“How ‘bout we do a trade,” Tito suggested, licking his lips. “My work for your number.”

Vianne wished very much to flip him off and top it with a whack on his head. But she chose to snatch the homework from his hands without a word. A snort escaped her as she turned around.

The boy next to him, Frank ‘Pancho’ Garcia, hooted. “Rejected!”

Tito scoffed. “Tsk, tsk. Playin’ hard to get I see.” He waved a casual hand and went back to his workbook. “It’s her loss.”

That’s what every virgin says. Vianne rolled her eyes at the added comment. The stack of writings were presented to Escalante, who took it with a gracious ‘thank you’. His lack of reaction to the jeers made her question just how much he was going to take because of his job. The probability of him being numb to the antics was high.

Just when Vianne thought her task was done for the time being, the door creaked open. She raised a brow; there were three more seats left in the corner, so it made sense that there were more people coming in. Facing the entrance, Vianne tried to get a better look than using the corners of her eyes.

Her stomach lurched at the sight, and she had to bite her lips to keep from hyperventilating. If her memory served her right, then those were the exact same boys she saw loitering around the alarm. The shortest one with a bandana stalked up to the front, head bobbing with self-assured arrogance. His hollow eyes stared at her with mild interest before they hardened when Escalante came into his view.

“Kimo,” he drawled. “Who’s the freshie?” The languid demeanor gave away his stoned state. Vianne made a subconscious step away from him and his pals, eyeing them warily through her glasses. He smirked, showing off a row of white teeth, seemingly glad at her reaction.

“You’re late, Chuco.” To her side, Escalante came into the conversation. “Vianne’s your new TA and I need you to sit your ass on a seat.”

Chuco gave a slighted look her way before he sauntered past her to the back, followed by his buddies. Vianne didn’t realize how tall the teen she saw through the window was until she was mere inches away from him. Dressed in an oversized bomber jacket and jeans too big for his waist, the towering youth could easily pass as a man in his twenties. A good feet taller than her would be a low estimation.

What on earth are his parents feeding him?!

Vianne stared straight on, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing her discomfort. Like Chuco, he also paid her no attention as he strolled next to the ‘leader’, plopping down on the desk in a bored manner.

It made sense that Escalante would want their homework as well, so she made a begrudging advance in their direction. Her feet padded across the room, drilling needles of dread into her legs with each stride.

“I need your homework, please.” Vianne tried to sound as polite as possible. But the grinding of teeth made it hard to sound sweet.

Chuco leered. “Ain’t got no homework, chica. Do the problems in ma head.”

One didn’t need a degree in astrophysics to know he was messing with her. Vianne grinned a little too forcefully and sighed. “Fine. Please turn to page fifteen and work on problems one through ten.”

She walked over to his tall companion, prepared for another unpleasant conversation. “Homework, please.”

The young man proceeded to pull his beanie lower over his ears. At that, Vianne was millimeters away from flipping her shit. Did the blockhead not comprehend? Or was he messing with her, too? Her father did say that certain people around the area couldn’t speak English, so she tried to push the excuse in a better light. Maybe he really didn’t understand her.

“Give me your tarea, por favor?” She tried to remember the basic Spanish from her previous encounters. But her knowledge decided to ditch her last minute. “Uh, Speak Ingles?”

He looked at her, eyes wide with what she hoped was understanding, and his lips twitched. Then his brows joined in, before he busted out laughing. Chuco howled along with him, slapping him on the shoulders with glee.

“Sometimes,” the tall youth answered. He smirked, tilting his head in her direction. Vianne balled her hands into fists as she watched on. The tips of her ears burned with a passion.

“Orale Angel!” Chuco high-fived him hard. “Nice one!” The duo continued their chorus of laughter, completely oblivious to the subject of their jest.

Vianne wished that turning invisible was a possible feat. It was adamantly clear that this was going to be a long year. The storm inside her grew, barely holding the thunders at bay.

A/N: As per usual, shoutout to @classic80sand90smovieloves2 for encouraging and helping me get over writers block and whatnot ;)

#stand and deliver #angel guzman #angel guzman imagine #80s movies #fanfiction #fanfic #80s movie imagines #lou diamond phillips #edward james olmos #jaime escalante #stand and deliver headcanon

21 notes · View notes

staticscreenwriting · 5 years

Text

All you have to be is here - Part 12

Synopsis: Billy has fucked up and has to do 60 days of community service at a home for troubled kids and youth. Working with the kids there makes him learn a lot about himself. Also there’s a girl there his age who has a phenomenal smile and who is way too nice to him.I guess I should mention there’s a lot of angst in this. Talk of substance abuse later on, physical abuse, emotional abuse. All that kind of gnarly real life stuff. It deals with kids and teens struggling with a a shitty family life so be aware of that.

Part 12 of ? (Slight mention of smut)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 //

Please help a girl out by reblogging. Thank you

♥Attention ! If you wanna be tagged pls send me a message or an ask it’s easier and faster for me than going through the tags of each part every time. Thank you :)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

I never really ever felt so adored before Never really ever felt this type of vulnerable Don’t have to hide, don’t have to fear All you have to be is here Never really ever felt so adored before And I said I wanna feel like this forever Even if forever’s just for now We’re on fire, let us burn As the outside world, it turns We are here and alive In our corner of time Forevermore

There’s a crying kid on the airplane two rows behind him and a woman loudly bickering to her seat neighbour, right across. It’s loud and stuffy and the seats are well small.

None of it matters though, because Billy relishes in this moment. He’s finally on his way home. Even if it’s just for a few days, his heart already feels much lighter from just the thought of it.

The ever present anger coursing through his system, is but a mere memory in the back of his head, as the plane starts to move.

“ Are you excited ? “ (Y/N) asks from beside him. His initial reaction is an overwhelming urge to roll his eyes. What a silly question. He’s been looking forward to this day from the moment his dad had first told him about their plans to move to Hawkins. California is home. It’s bright suns and soft mornings and piano melodies carried by the wind all the way from the living room down to the beach.

It’s scuffed up knees and sweat and waves so big they made young Billy speechless as he watched them crash against the shore, a look of curious fascination on his face.

Billy really wants to roll his eyes at the question, throw her some sarcastic comment and make that the end of it. He knows it comes from a good place though, a place of care and worry and — unfiltered joy.

She’s genuinely excited for him. No one’s ever been excited for him. Not to this extend.

It also comes from a place of anxiety. It’s hidden and if you don’t know what to look for, you wouldn’t realize it. Billy knows though. She’s told him before, casually slipped it into a conversation. “ Yeah, I’ve never flown before but, no big deal.”

But it is a big deal. It’s a huge deal.

So taking that all into consideration, he doesn’t roll his eyes at her. Instead he takes her hand in his, placed a kiss on her forehead and grants her a smile. It’s a “yes” without having to say a word. It’s a “everything’s gonna be alright.”

And he believes it. He truly believes it himself.

His eyes wander back towards the window as the airplane lifts up into the air. The world down below gets further and further away with every second, every blink of an eye. Houses that towered tall above his head just moments ago are now but tiny tiny dots.

Billy has expected to feel some kind of way once they’re up in the clouds. Insignificant. Like one small dot in an ocean of shapes. One dot that makes no difference to the whole picture whether he’s there or not.

He expected to feel small. Instead, it all feels weirdly liberating. To see how much world there is to discover. How much life there is yet to be lived. To see that Hawkins, too, is just a dot. There’s so much more out there, he doesn’t have to be confined to this shitty little town that makes him feel like he’s stuck in a perpetual state of anger and frustration.

The world is, literally, at his feet right now. And now, he’s no idiot. He knows the world ain’t his fucing oyster. There’s things he’ll never get to do. But it’s nice to let yourself dream every once in a while. And what better time than while up in the damn clouds.

______________________

Driving along the Californian roads he knows so well is a strange feeling. The car is different and, to a certain extend, the boy driving it is different too. The roads are the same though. They feel so familiar.

Yes there’s a mix of emotions swirling around inside of him. It feels like he’s hardly been gone and yet it feels like a lifetime has gone by since he’s last driven along these roads.

There’s a sparkle in (Y/N) eyes, he notices as he glances over towards her. She looks gorgeous as the sun falls through the window and onto her skin. Like a scene straight from a postcard. Perfect. Flawless.

“ So you said, we’re going to stay at a beach cabin. Isn’t that like, super expensive ? “ she asks, leaning back in her seat and swaying along to the music ever so slightly.

“ Ah I got a good deal. “

H doesn’t tell her that this good deal comes from knowing the woman who rents out these beach cabins. That she once found him crying by the beach, blackeye and nosebleed perfectly on display. She told him then, after giving him cookies and cleaning him up, that he would always have a place to stay whenever he needs it.

She’s keeping her word.

There’s some traumas you don’t have to share, and maybe he should, but he doesn’t want to. Some traumas you just live with. You grin and bear and hope that one day when things get better, they won’t weigh so heavy on you anymore. That one day they turn into dusty memories that only flatter around your head every once in a blue moon.

So this one he’s keeping to himself for now. Because right this moment, though it still feels heavy on his chest, it doesn’t really matter. He’s home, driving along familiar roads with a girl that makes his heart do silly things.

_____________________

The beach cabin is small compared to the other ones lining the coast but to Billy and (Y/N) it is more than enough. There’s a living room with a little porch connected to it, looking straight out onto the beach. A small kitchen, a bathroom with a shower and a big bathtub. Billy would be lying is he says he hasn’t thought of all the things they might be doing in that tub.

The bedroom though, is the most breathtaking of all the rooms. It’s all softy blues and whites and light grays. Like the ocean on a peaceful sunday morning captured in the confines of one small beach cabin. There’s huge windows that allow you to look straight at the sea as you lay in bed. He can’t wait to wake up to this view. Can’t wait to wake up to it with (Y/N) in his arms.

“ This is insane. I absolutely love this ! “ (Y/N) exclaims as she throws herself onto the bed with enthusiasm. “ I wish we could go out explore, like right now. But I am so exhausted. “

They’d been up all night, packing the last of their stuff and taking a taxi to the airport. It’s only once she mentions it, that Billy realises just how tired he is. Though he knows there’s no sleep coming for him anytime soon. All his senses, all his emotions are running on overdrive right now. It’s an abundance of memories clashing with so many ideas of what these next few days might hold. His head is too loud to even think about sleep right now.

“ How about you go take a nap and I’ll go get us something to eat. How’s that sound ? “

“ So domestic. What a gentleman “ (Y/N) jokes, coming over to wrap one arm around Billy’s neck and absentmindedly play with a button of his shirt with the other.

“ Gentleman, huh ? I’ll show you how much of a gentleman I can be later “ Billy replies then lowers his head to level his lips with her ears, softly breathing against her skin, making goosebumps appear. “ when I fuck you into this very mattress. We can even watch the waves while we do it. “

“ So romantic “ she quips but there’s a very prominent red hue coloring her cheeks.

“ Jesus, did I make you blush. “

“ No. “

Lies.

“ Alright. Whatever you say, babe. Go have a nap. “ he says and stirs her towards the bed, giving her ass a little tap “ you’ll need the energy later. “

____________________

Some upbeat spanish music is playing from the overhead stereo as Billy browses the isle of some tiny bodega in one of the many side streets away from the more touristy areas.

There’s two sandwiches in the little plastic bag hanging from his arm, but that’s only enough to keep them fed until dinner. He knows he’s gonna stock up on at least a bit of food. He also knows his girl needs her coffee in the morning.

His eyes move along the shelves stocked with all kinds of foods and drinks, as a voice speaks up from beside him.

“ Hargrove ? “

It’s a voice he hasn’t heard since the day his family left for Hawkins. He remembers the last words this voice ever said to him. They’ve been flowing through his head many many times. They were usually followed by so many questions. The loudest of them all, all but screaming at him. “Why don’t any of them call ? Why don’t any of them care ? Why doesn’t he care ? “

Johnny Foster stands as lanky and tall as he always did. His shaggy brown hair falls into his face with every move he makes and his shirts seems to swallow his narrow frame. There’s a baseball cap on his head in an attempt to keep his unruly hair in place, and the pair of beat up sneakers still have Billy’s name scribbled onto them, alongside those of all their other friends.

Johnny hasn’t changed a thing since they day the Hargroves left. Billy doesn’t know if this is comforting.

“ Hargrove ! It’s you. Hey man. “

Before he can even say a word, he’s wrapped into a big hug. Johnny is the human equivalent of some over excited golden retriever puppy. He smells like ocean air and pot.

“ Man. I didn’t know you were gonna be home. You should’ve called !”

It’s then, that Billy is shaken from his thoughts. He should’ve called ? They should’ve ! Johnny and Dylan and all the others. None of them did though. So why should he.

“ You didn’t. “

“ Didn’t what ? “

“ Call. “

Johnny’s face screws up in confusion. “ Yeah I did. I talked to your dad and you stepmom a few times. You were never home. “

It’s like cold ice water running down his spine, as Johnny throws those words at him. He did call and he did care. Everything he thought he had come to terms with, is now but a lie. An intricate web of deception, woven to keep him isolated from the few happy things in his past.

God, he fucking hates Neil. And Susan.

“ I take it you didn’t know that. Hey man, I’m sorry. “

“ Not your fault. “

“ So you’re home ! Are you back permanently ? “

Yeah. He’s home. And it feels like it. The pressure, the weight, te sadness. It’s all dulled and muted here. There’s been hurt and pain here too, lots of it. But the cause of most of those things is now so many miles away.

“ Not for now. Just for a few days. It’s my girl’s birthday. “

Johnny takes a double take, eyes wide in surprise “ Your girl, huh ? Like an actual committed girlfriend, kinda girl. “

“ Mmh. “

“ Damn, Billy Hargrove has a girlfriend. Indiana changed you, man. “

He says it not with malice though, not even with mock judgement. It’s a fact. One that’s undeniable and unshakable. Billy doesn’t think Johnny knows even the smallest amount of how much Indiana has changed him. Or maybe not the state itself. Maybe it’s what came with it. The people. The girl. The feelings.

“ Guess so. “

“ She cool ? “

It’s such a Johnny think to ask. Some of his other friends from California probably would’ve asked if she was hot. Maybe even more crass things. Not Johnny. Johnny doesn’t care about superficial things. Johnny cares about people in the way a dog does, or a little kid. Are they nice? Are they fun? And most importantly, are they cool ?

“ Yeah, Johnny. She’s real cool. “

“ Bring her around, dude ! Let me call the others and set up a bonfire down by the beach. Like old times. “

“ I don’t know. “

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. It’s just a lot. Seeing his old friends again. Some of which aren’t the way Johnny is. Aren’t forgiving and sweet and goofy.

“ C’mon, Billy. I wanna meet your girl. I’m your best friend I should get to meet her while you’re here. And I know the others want to see you too. We missed you, man. “

And maybe that’s all it takes. To know he was being missed. By the same people he spend month believing had just forgotten about him.

“ Alright, yeah. Let’s do it. “

As Johnny smiles his goofy, little boy smile. Billy thinks maybe he missed his friends too.

_____________________________

(Y/N) lets out a passionate moan of absolute satisfaction. Sex with her, it’s just different. Especially here. With the ocean and the beach as a backdrop to her bouncing on his dick like her life depends on it.

Her skin is soft, so fucking soft. And she feels so warm around him. The light from outside casts an ethereal glow around her. She looks like a goddamn angel as she rides him.

Her breasts bounce as she moves in a steady rhythm, fast, rough, hard. In a way that seems almost pornorgraphy if it wasn’t for the innocent smile of pleasure on her face. She’s a fucking goddess. In all ways possible.

The way her body shakes and twitches let’s him know he’s doing a good job. That he’s bringing her close. Closer. Always closer. She places a sloppy kiss on his lips as she comes undone around him, squeezing him in the most delicious ways. And how can he possibly hold it together at that. His moves are sloppy and uncontrolled but he's so desperate to chase the high, to follow her over the edge. And when he does, god — he’s straight to heaven.

Their sweaty bodies stick to each other, as (Y/N) slumps down on the bed next to him and places lazy kisses up and down his neck, actively killing him little by little. If this girl knows just how big her power over him is, he’s positively screwed.

Than again, getting screwed by her really isn’t the worst case scenario now, is it ?

“ Why are you smiling so big, huh ? “ her voice comes out husky and rough.

Billy hasn’t even realised he’s smiling. Not actively. But really, what is there not to smile about. He’s home, with his girl, giving and receiving great orgasms, while the waves crash against the shore in a peaceful rhythm.

“ Because I’m happy. “

And it’s not a fleeting moment then, like it usually is. His happy moments in Hawkins are few and far between. Not here. It’s been a constant state of bliss since they got off the plane.

“ Good. That’s all I ever want you to be “

“ Are you happy ? “ Billy asks her and pulls her closer to his body, if that is even possible.

“ I’ve never been happier. “

That is all he ever wants her to be.

__________________________

The bonfire casts a glow of gold an red across the beach. There’s people mingling everywhere and most of them have stopped by Billy over the course of the night, catching him up on their lives and asking about his.

Some of them, he is indifferent about and some of them he’s missed so dearly. (Y/N) stands by his side, smiling and laughing and cracking jokes. And then Johnny comes up to them, with his usually slagging walk. Like his legs are too long for his body.

“ Hey, guys. “ he slurs, obviously having had a cup or two of the punch already.

“ (Y/N), that’s Johnny, my best friend. “

It’s not really a lie. He’s his best friend. The thing is, (Y/N) is his best friend too. And they’re both important for many different things. He loves them both for completely different reasons.

It’s also kinda cheesy to say his girlfriend is his best friend, so he keeps that to himself. He doesn’t have to say it for her to know. It’s a mutual feeling.

“ Johnny, this is (Y/N). My girlfriend. “ It feels great to introduce her this way. Not weird as he had expected. It feels — right. More right than anything has felt in a while.

“ Aw, man. You’re gorgeous. You sure you wanna stick it with this screwball ? I mean, yeah he’s got a great ass but, the hair ? the mustache ? You sure ? “

Johnny is the only person that gets to say there things about Billy without having to fear any repercussions. Because they don’t come from a place of hostility or ill will. That’s just what friends do. It’s loving banter. It’s friendship.

“ Ah, you know. He’s being really good so far. I think I’ll keep him around for a while. “ (Y/N) replies and then the two of them fall into a joking conversation full of laughter and smiles and drunken hiccups from Johnny.

Billy, then, thinks that this is what his life should’ve been from the start. Going to a party by the beach. Watching his girlfriend and his best friend joking around. Smiling. Laughing. Happy.

There’s a warm feeling spreading through his chest. One of complete and utter content. If moments where photographs, he would take a million pictures of this one. To hold it close forever as the moment his life truly begins.

____________________________

It’s many, many hours later as Billy walks along the beach by himself, plopping down onto the sand a small distance from the bonfire. The party is winding down a little further up the shore but most of the people are either asleep on the floor, in their cars or have already left a while ago.

The world feels peaceful around him. Quiet and serene. Bad things happening, pain and hurt and anger — It all seems to far away here. As if this is a bubble he gets to live in for a few short days. A bubble showing him how good a life can be.

He knows that soon the night is giving in to the blinding light of a rising sun and with a day gone, the inevitable pop of the bubble gets closer and closer. But he’s positively tipsy right now on punch and love and life. And he doesn’t wanna think about Hawkins. About Neil. About what might happen with his mom.

He just wants to be. For one moment he just wants to be alive without having to worry about anything else.

A soft touch shakes him from his daydream, as (Y/N) drops down into the sand next to him. Their eyes are on the horizon but their hearts are with each other. Always.

“ I like your friends. “

“ Yeah ? That’s good. I think they like you too. “

Really, how could anyone not like her? She’s phenomenal in every aspect.

“ You know what else I like. No — what I love ? “ she continues.

“ What’s that ? “

“ The way you are, since we arrived. So — light. You smile more and you laugh more and you’re goofy and fun and I haven’t seen you scowl. Not even once. “

Billy hasn’t expect her to notice. He noticed a change in himself, sure. But he thought it was more of an inside change. For a second it makes him feel uneasy. Vulnerable. Showing your emotions to other people can be dangerous.

But then it sets in, that this isn’t Hawkins and this isn’t Neil and he can be vulnerable and he can show emotions. There’s no shame in it and there’s no fear of any consequences.

The only consequence coming from it might be (Y/N) showering him with even more love in return, and that he can surely live with.

“ I love you, (Y/N). “

It’s still strange to say it but some things mean so much, they’re worth saying even if it’s scary.

“ I love you too. “

See ? Totally worth it.

The sun slowly rises in the east behind them, it throws hues of blues and pinks across the city, across the buildings and palm trees and streets of people waking up. California mornings are spectacular for they feels soft and magical. And maybe it’s a memory clouded in pure and utter nostalgia, but that’s how they always felt to Billy.

It still feels this way now. Though magic comes from many places these days. His friends. His girl. His home.

“ Hey, baby ? “

“ Hmm ? “

“ I think I wanna go see my mom the day after your birthday. I think I want her to meet you. “

(Y/N) kisses his cheek, then his lips, then smiles “ Okay. I’m with you every step of the way. “

The morning sunshine makes her shimmer in a golden glow and Billy wonders how his heart is ever going to hold together when the time comes for them to leave ?

__________________

taglist:

@babygal-babygal / @anxiousamandapanda / @imjusthereforsupernatural / @chhhcherybomb / @tomarisela / @noodlenerd101 / @xxcxrolinexx / @bippity-boppity-boopa / @mcrmarvelloki / @silver-winter-wolf / @thecrowclubsmanager / @theroyalbrownbarbie / @salemlysi / @asheseiler / @stra-vage/ @ssstutteringbbbill / @biliyonce / @addictofsupernatural / @angelophany / @charmed-asylum / @xxemoluverxx / @killer-queen-xo / @1lluminaticonfirmed / @rebel-broken-angel / @ayybtch / @dean-jace-doctor / @sarai-ibn-la-ahad / @amesishappy // @your-dreams-are-strong // @blazin-writes // @sgt-morgan

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove x reader

175 notes · View notes

jflashandclash · 4 years

Text

Tales from Mount Othrys

Surprise Parenthood II

Ajax, the tinier of the two, twitched as he examined the donut box in Jack’s hands. Like Jack often did, he said no one could eat until Flynn had come back over. The gesture made Flynn sigh and hope he wouldn’t starve if she never came home from battle.

If she had to guess, Luke just finished selling their cause to the older boy. Axel leaned more into his seat, his eyes wide, as Luke enlisted the horrors the Greek gods had committed. A Cyclops and nymph from the next table leaned over their seats to listen. Judging by the kid’s expression, Luke would be much better at recruiting the older boy, and Jack would be much better for the little one.

By the time she was within hearing range, Luke was saying, “And you already started pretty well on combating the corruption of the West. That’s a pretty solid trophy you’ve got there.”

Jack made a slicing motion across his neck to tell Luke to cut it out on the trophy.

Without Flynn around, Jack grinned down at the two boys across from him and Luke, like they really were his babies. She wanted to point out that these weren’t hell hounds. They weren’t Alabaster’s failed “guinea pigs.” These were two teenage boys, one of which must have only been a couple of years younger than Jack.

But Jack looked so happy.

While examining the excitement in his light eyes, the opera’s overture came to her. Jack had painstakingly learned all of the Mandarin words and the intonations of the first act so he could give Nǎinai and Flynn a live performance. His angelic hum echoed in her memory from when Jack tried to replicate a Huangmei singer. He had failed at mimicking the trills, but he still sounded wonderful and made Nǎinai spill some happy tears.

Something in Flynn broke.

She groaned. They needed to set some ground rules on discussing major decisions and, likely, what counted as a major decision. Thank the titans that Jack didn’t have access to a credit card or Ebay.[1]

Lucille watched from the counter as Flynn approached the table.

Jack’s smile fell again. He struggled to make eye contact with her, his brow furrowing in shame.

The smaller boy noticed. His hazel and brown eyes widened as he glanced from Axel, to Jack, to Flynn. His cheeks puffed up and popped in a way that made Flynn think he looked like a chipmunk.

Flynn surprised herself with a laugh.

Jack perked up.

“Everything okay with Lucille?” Luke asked, eyeing the donut box like the others.

She nodded.

Jack opened up the box and shoved them towards the center.

Despite their polite patience before, Axel and Ajax descended upon the treats like there had been a famine. She wondered if anyone had thought to feed the boys after Axel’s fight.

Axel devoured one of his chocolate glazed donuts in two bites.

Ajax stacked all three of his donuts—two of his own and one from Jack—and attempted to bite all three at once, maybe to combo the flavors. Jelly seeped down his cheeks.

The older boy snapped something to the younger boy in Spanish.

The younger boy’s eyes went wider and he scooted further down the chair, holding his donuts close to him, as though he feared Axel might take them.

Axel sighed, lifted his second donut, and munched on it much slower, staring out the window thoughtfully. From what Flynn had seen on their way in, they were somewhere in the bogs of Virginia and the scenery looked as muggy as the air felt.

Flynn motioned for Jack to scoot closer to Luke so she could sit down. Remembering Luke’s question, Flynn said, “Lucille just wanted to talk to me about adjusting to civilian life.”

Luke looked a little disappointed. He kept thinking one of the daughters of Aphrodite would take interest in him.

“You’re part of Kronos’ cause now,” Flynn said to the boys, ignoring the way Luke gave an additional wave to Lucille.[2]

Ajax froze half-way through biting into his triple stack. He glanced at Axel.

Axel shrugged, still staring out the window. “I guess so.” After a pause, he added, “I can get behind helping underprivileged monsters.”

With his performance on the stage, Axel would probably be put into the Assault and Battery unit. There was no way his little brother could be in the same unit. He was too small.

She wondered what they would think when they did the creepy Pledge Your Soul ceremony or if Jack had forgotten to mention that part.

Jack watched Flynn carefully. One of his hands tugged mindlessly at the red locks.

“If you’re going to be here anyway, we’re going to have to keep an eye on you,” Flynn said.

Jack broke into an enormous smile. He reached for Flynn’s hand and hesitated.

She enlaced their fingers. This was going on the ever-increasing list of Things She and Jack Needed To Talk About.

Luke leaned back. “You’ve gotta be kidding,” he said, looking amused at Flynn’s compliance.

“Next time,” she said to Jack, ignoring Luke as she often did, “Let’s start with a Hell pup.”

Jack’s eyes widened with delight. “Next time?” he asked.

“There will be no next time,” she clarified.

Jack didn’t seem to mind. He beamed at the boys. His right leg started to bob up and down in his excitement. “Did you hear that boys?! Flynn is officially your Mom!”

Luke coughed back a laugh.

Flynn shot him a glare.

He shrugged. “Sorry, Momma Flynn. Just not something I would expect.”

Axel grumbled something in Spanish, keeping his eyes out the window.

The tinier one elbowed him, then paused in munching. He gave them a fragile grin. “We haven’t had a Mom in awhile.” He tilted his head, examining her. “My little brother is half-Japanese. Are you half-Japanese?”

Flynn thought about what the Japanese soldiers had done to her grandmother and deceased aunts that had left her grandmother’s health so fragile, about the things her uncle had witnessed that left him so broken in the head. The things her uncle had passed down to her, through words and action every night before bed, the way some other children got lullabies.

Keeping her tone careful, Flynn said, “I’m half-Chinese.”

Ajax bobbed up and down. “That’s really cool. I don’t know much about China. You guys have a lot of bamboo, right?”

Without looking at his little brother, Axel reached over and swatted Ajax across the back of the head.

Ajax whined, “Ayyyyyeeeee!” again.

“Boys!” Jack said, trying to sound authoritarian. If the tiny one hadn’t set her on guard, she might have thought Jack’s tone adorable.

“My heritage is not up for discussion,” she said. “I’m American. That’s all you need to know.”

That’s all anyone ever needed to know. It was bad enough moving to Jack’s tiny Baptist town where she stuck out like an obsidian chip in a cup of clear glass. At least here, the demigod and monster population was diverse. There was more than one daughter of Aphrodite walking around to be whistled at, though all the boys here knew better. Flynn almost missed hearing people choke up when she turned and they saw her disfigured face.

The tiny one blushed and stared at the center of the table. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. After a pause, he added, “I like your hair sticks.”

Flynn forced herself not to adjust the blades she kept tucked into her hair. She didn’t realize she’d been digging her nails into Jack’s hand.

This kid didn’t know better. She shouldn’t get mad if she wasn’t willing to teach him.

“The boys were about to tell us what they like to do in their free time, that way we can get them settled in properly,” Jack said, winking at the tiny one.

“We were?!” Ajax yipped. He took another massive bite of his donut stack.

“They were?” Luke asked. His amusement wore out. He looked like he wanted an escape and didn’t have one on the inside of the bench. She wondered if there were any important meetings happening right now or if Luke’s dislike for tiny children (other than his beloved Annabeth) was showing.

Flynn held up a hand, silencing Jack and making him look nervous. There was something both she and Luke needed to know before they broke up this bullshit.

“You,” she pointed to Axel, narrowing her gaze to examine his jaw. It looked human. She needed to get something straightened out before Jack became too attached to these two, if he wasn’t already. “How did you have the strength to bite through the praetor’s skull? Not even demigods can do that.”

Axel surprised her with his response. “There are two kids and a Cyclops hanging out along the tree line, watching us,” he said, pointing through the window.

Luke and Flynn flinched.

They both followed his gaze outside.

Flynn couldn’t believe no one had noticed the bright orange Camp Half-Blood shirts that poked out of the underbrush and the baby Cyclops stuffing his face with a box of donuts.

A scowl tugged her lips. “I wonder who that could be,” she said.

Jack sat up, mouth dropping open. “Oh! Oh! Is that Annabeth? I—I never got to meet her when everyone else saw her onboard—I was getting the games ready for the Roman—”

Flynn didn’t care about the daughter of Athena. She rose to her feet, touching the blades in her hair.

Luke looked pleased. “Flynn, chill. I told you that I let them go on purpose.”

Flynn took a step towards the door. “I heard about your talk with Annabeth and Percy. I heard it went poorly.” Something she refused to look at as a “calculated setback.”

Luke glowered. “Watch your tongue, daughter of Aphrodite.”

Axel glanced from Flynn, to the spies, to Luke. He seemed queasy. “Are we about to fight again?”

Ajax stuffed the rest of his three donuts into his mouth.

Jack shrank back into his seat, like he often did when Luke and Flynn disagreed.

“No,” Luke said, “Those demigods are going to do a quest for us, so we don’t have to.”

“A quest that new recruits could do to prove their loyalty instead of fighting a death match?” Axel asked. His tone was innocent.

Maybe Flynn could get behind “mothering” this kid.

“No,” Luke snapped. “Polyphemus is too dangerous and won’t barter. We tried. It ended poorly. I need every soul I can have here.”

“I could easily lead a task force to kill that Cyclops, just like someone who stole the Zeus’ Master Bolt and Hades’ Helm of Darkness should be able to easily take the Golden Fleece from under his nose,” Flynn said. Phil, their friendly satyr with a criminal record, warned her not to push Luke too far. Phil wasn’t here to stop her.

This wasn’t the first time Luke had given her that look, one that said he wished Phil hadn’t tracked her down as a recruit. He knew she didn’t care about his promise of a new world. She just wanted to see this one burn. But, Luke needed her until they got his precious Atlas out from under the sky. Once again, she wondered if he would try to distance her and Jack once Atlas came into the picture.

Flynn sighed and withdrew a blade from her hair. Her locks stayed tight. The blades’ hilts were for show and certainly would have cut her hair if she used them as actual hair sticks.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Luke demanded. He stood up and slammed a fist on the table.

“To tie up loose ends,” Flynn said.

Everyone in the donut shop went quiet.

Jack jumped and clutched at his hair. When he saw Axel and Ajax looking at him, Jack did something he hadn’t before. He slowly released his red locks, swallowed, stood, and put one hand on Luke’s trembling shoulder while beckoning Flynn with his other. “Hey… hey guys, not in front of the ki—new recruits.” The words switched when Jack saw the glint in Luke’s blue eyes.

A loud crack sounded outside. Flynn glanced to see an elm tree collapse away from the building.

Then, Monster Donuts shook like it had been hit with an earthquake. The lights flickered. Monsters and nature spirits freaked. The Cyclops that had been seated behind them stood and began to run in circles, clocking his head repeatedly into a sign celebrating the shop’s opening.

Luke, Jack, and Flynn were thrown to the ground.

***

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D Were you guys thinking these stories wouldn’t take direct scenes from Camp Half-Blood’s version of events? Stay tuned next week for the final section of Flynn’s short to see what happens to the insides of a Monster Donut shop when the hydra fueling gets—oh, right, Clarisse BLOWS IT UP with a freaking canon. Huh. Not Percy, for once. Anyway, stay tuned! And Happy Saturnalia and Solstice to all you pagan lovers out there!

***

Footnotes:

[1] Melbetanote, “ ‘But, they’re for the children, Flynn!’ ‘THEY DON’T NEED TEN NERF GUNS!’” Author Jack’s response, “Flynn’s would be lucky that he didn’t hire professional actors to reenact all of the Disney movies for them throughout their day.”

[2] Mel betacomment, “I have to say, BOY A BIT PATHETIC!” Author Jack, “I like to think Selena is the only daughter of Aphrodite who fell for his shit XD”

#Tales from Mount Othrys #TFMO #PJO/HOO #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #fanfiction #I MIGHT already be ready to kill someone next chapter #Maybe #I'll think about it #I can't wait for you guys to get to the story after this one!!!#You meet some of my favorite characters to write ^.^#Happy Holidays you beautiful bastards you!

5 notes · View notes

that-librarian-geek · 5 years

Text

Search Strategies - Keywords

Last week I wrote about conducting advanced searches with search modifiers and Boolean operators. This week, I am taking a step back and writing about developing search strategies. A search strategy, simply defined, is the method used to find resources relevant to your topic. Search strategies have 4 steps: 1 - discovering what interests you; 2 - writing search queries; 3 - evaluating the results, and 4 - reformulating the search queries. This post will cover the first 2 steps. I will cover the basics of step 3 next week.

Step 1: Discovering what interests you

Finding a topic to research can sometimes be the most difficult step in the research process. Sometimes you know exactly what you are interested in but oftentimes, you don’t. Even if you know the general topic, narrowing it down to a specific focus can be a struggle. My suggestion for people stuck at the very first step is to read through some Wikipedia articles. They are generally succinct, provide a decent overview, and link to similar or intersecting topics.

Let’s say I am interested in Spanish cuisine. This is a giant topic that can be viewed from social science, gastronomical, or psychological lenses. Am I interested in historical or contemporary dishes? Am I interested in the regional variants - and if so, which ones? The more narrow the focus, the more precise and interesting the research.

There are many ways to develop a research focus.

Research forms (x,x,x,x)

Concept maps/mental mapping (x,x)

Event maps/5 W’s: who, what, when, where, why (x,x)

Step 2: Writing the search queries

Once you know what your specific topic and research focus is, I always suggest writing questions. These will automatically give you some keywords to start with. Let’s say I am trying to find some history about Spanish cuisine. The question then would be, “What is the history of Spanish cuisine?” Right there I have three keywords to start with: “history,” “Spanish,” and “cuisine.” These are the words I would then want to use in the search engine.

I might find everything I am looking for with that first search. Most likely, however, I won’t. I might become interested in a specific dish, region, era, etc. I would then create additional questions. One of the best ways is to take the original keywords and find similar words or synonyms that might provide different results. Thesaurus.com is a great resource for finding more words.

Instead of “cuisine,” I might search diet, food, or dishes. Alternatively, I might search for specific dishes: paella, chorizo, salmorejo, etc.

Instead of “history,” I might search “origin” or a specific era.

Instead of “Spanish,” I might search “Iberian.”

Each variation will lead to different results.

Once you have those keywords, you can start constructing search queries using the strategies covered in the Advanced Searching post.

FURTHER READING

Search Term Generator

Picking a Research Topic Guide

Research Tutorial

#referencelibrarian #research #search engines

41 notes · View notes

eurosong · 5 years

Text

2018 vs 2019: Semi-final 1

Hey there, folks! Every year after the national final season is over, one of the first things I write about Eurovision is a comparison of the new year’s songs with those of the previous year. Often it gets folk unfollowing the blog even though it’s almost entirely posts about ESC statistics and only a relatively small amount on rating the songs here. These are just my thoughts and no offence intended to anyone who thinks otherwise. Without further ado, click below to take a look at my thoughts on semi-final one!

◯ Australia – 2019 – Last year, Oz sent “We got love” (or “We got l’œuf” as I renamed it), which was a dizzying collection of clichés, got a mediocre placement and might well have been the impetus for them finally biting the bullet and getting the punters involved in the thitherto long mooted national final. This decision might not benefit their chances of keeping up their qualification record in the long run – but it means, for once, that Australia can move outside a narrow box musically and send things that would never be picked by internal selectors. “Zero gravity” was a less astute choice than “2000 & Whatever” would have been, I feel – it sounds to be like something that people think is so Eurovision who haven’t seen it in some time. Nonetheless, homegirl has pipes, the tune is quite catchy and it’s a hell of a lot more interesting than last year’s song.

◯ Belarus – 2018 – whilst I’ll be talking about 2018 vs 2019, I have to take a quick detour almost right away to 2017. It was the first time that Belarus managed to sustain my interest and get into my personal top 10 since their début, and they did so by going authentic and finally showing some love for their national language on the ESC stage. One year later, and I certainly wasn’t enthused by a carpetbagging victory of a non-local singing a rather ordinary song in English or some approximation thereof.

And yet, “Forever” and its earnest performer grew on me, especially the strange dissonance between the hopeful lyrics and the very melancholy music. After a similar number of repeated listens, “Like it” has not sparked even the briefest flame. Musically, this starts off with an inoffensive if very 2005 Spanish guitar riff, arrives at a decent-ish bridge and then throws itself off it head first into an absolutely dreadful thumping, repetitive chorus which is reprised way too much in the rest of the song. Lyrically, they put about as much effort into the words as they did into the “screensaver with default font” they were using as a background as Zena performed. She repeats “yes, you’re gunna like it” 40 times in the space of 3 minutes – one every 4.5 seconds. Maybe she’s trying to psychologically condition us, but no, Zena, I ent gunna like it at all. In a delicious bit of irony, it’s also at time of writing the least “liked” ESC ’19 song on Youtube. Strong preference to 2018.

◯ Belgium – 2019 – It can be difficult for a country to come back after a peak moment for them with something equally good that also manages to win over the fans and juries. We’ve seen it in Latvia after “Love injected”, in Estonia after “Goodbye to yesterday” and I think we’re seeing it once again with Belgium after “City lights”. Neither this year’s song nor last’s comes anywhere near the anthemic, emotional power of Blanche’s song. Both are nice enough, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Eliot struggled much as Sennek did last year. I give it a slight preference, but both songs are really let down, I feel, by choruses that don’t pay off the drama built in the verses.

◯ Cyprus – Neither – I try to limit myself to as few “neither” choices as possible in these games because the fun is in having to choose, sometimes, between two difficult options. Nonetheless, I abhorred “Fuego” in every conceivable way and this aptly-named “replay” offers little different to those who weren’t fans of it. If I had to pick, I’d go with 2018, because at least it doesn’t have the sadness of attempting to catch lightning twice in the same jar attached to it.

◯ Czechia – 2019 – Two years, two rather uncomfortable entries from the Czechs in a row. Last year, we had a predatory “Blurred lines” light, while this year, whilst less lyrically degrading, still has weird lines about eavesdropping on people having sex through the walls(?)… but it’s enough to secure a slight preference.

◯ Estonia – 2018 – It seems like such a long time has passed since the days when I consistently found Eesti Beesti, since those days when Eesti Laul seemed experimental and had a decent number of songs in their native language. I’m no fan of popera, but at least Elina was a local talent. It’s bewildering when a country with so many great artists can’t find someone with any real association with it to sing for them. Though both are ultimately derivative, I prefer La forza to what is essentially an aviici b-side.

◯ Finland– 2018 – I have a pet peeve for national finals where you are presented with a single choice of artist. Unless said artist is very versatile (say, Frances Ruffelle, who took on dark pop, ballads and gospel-tinged anthems in her solo national final back in 1994), you are restricted to a narrow set of genres. If you don’t like that artist or their style, then you’re shit out of luck. That’s been the case for the last few years with Saara Aalto and now Darude. I didn’t really like ány of either’s songs and miss the days of a diverse choice in UMK. I pick Saara because her throwback was slightly more tolerable.

◯ Georgia– 2018 – Fair play to Georgia, who always dance to the beat of their very own peculiar drummer. You’d think that the shift to the X Factor format to pick their representative, combined with the cold reception for their “ethno-jazz” last year, would have led to them playing it safe to try to avoid three DNQs in a row. Instead they’ve gone for something downbeat, angry and almost oppressive in its ambiance, i.e. something even less accessible to the general viewer than last year. This feels like the rock song equivalent to a war crimes tribunal. I preferred last year’s effort, which was rather more uplifting, and which I felt was unfairly underrated for a genuinely well-composed piece of music steeped in tradition.

◯ Greece – 2019 – A number of people around me were raving for Oneiro mou last year. I wasn’t one of them and suspected it would fail to qualify from the get-go. Instead of “Greece returning to form”, it felt like them attempting to do so but ending up with a nationalistic pastiche instead. This year, they’ve taken their usual mould and smashed it with a hammer, going in a very different direction with a delightfully husky-voiced singer and a musically anthemic piece that manages to compensate, for me, the song’s lyrical shortcomings. I enjoy it a fair bit more.

◯ Hungary – 2018 – This is one of the hardest ones of this semi final to choose, as “Viszlát nyar” and “Az én apam” are chalk and cheese, but both highly qualitative and with meaningful lyrics. Joci’s other ESC song, Origo, beat Viszlát nyar for me, but his 2019 effort doesn’t have quite the same visceral punch to it, so I think I’m going to have to give the edge to AWS this time around.

◯ Iceland – 2019 – Another country giving us night and day, but this time, I like neither of the two choices. Last year certainly put the “cheese” in the old “chalk and cheese” saying, an unbelievably overwrought and soppy Christmas charity-esque tune that somehow ended up at ESC. This year, it’s something rather acerbic, dingy, grating and ultimately gimmicky. In these times, “hate will prevail” is the last message we need. I will take it over Ari any day though, as that was just squirmworthy.

◯ Montenegro – 2018 – It seemed that, last year, Montenegro was back to doing what it has always done best – a haunting, beautiful Balkan ballad after a few bizarre years of experiments gone wrong. Unfortunately, Inje got slept on despite its quality and couldn’t bring about an end to CG’s DNQ streak. There were many candidates in this year’s Montevizija that could have gone one better and done just that – but instead, bewilderingly, we got this unspeakable jumble which sounds like it was a rejected b-side for a mediocre mid-90s boy band, but with the addition of Random Casio Noises® in the background. Comparing Inje to it is likening fine wine to a bottle of Panda Cola that has been left with the cap off in the sun for 2 weeks.

◯ Poland – 2019 – Last year, Poland sent a middle-aged man in a hat doing a cringey snake dance whilst a young, inexplicably Swedish guy sort of sang and the whole thing sounded like the soundtrack for a Coke advert gone wrong. This year, they’ve got some women swaying like maniacs in a forest where they probably buried their patriarch. Not much of a step up in theory, but a big step up nonetheless…

◯ Portugal– 2019 – Portugal is a country that could have peaked with their first win, or fallen into a niche in a sad attempt (*cough* Cyprus *cough*) to recapture that glory. Instead, they are challenging all the tropes and have a national final with some serious diversity. I loved “O jardim” and it deserved way better, but this year’s song, “Telemóveis”, exceeds even that. It’s a haunting but catchy as hell rumination on mortality, technology and saudade with a musical backdrop whose influences transcend continents. If it’s not in the running to win the whole thing, I will be disappointed.

◯ San Marino – 2018 – I cannot get my head around the enthusiasm for “Say na na na”, which seems to have been contracted not only by postmodern pisstakers but by many folk who genuinely like it. It makes me cringe 10x more than Jenny B’s not quite sick rap skills last year, and that’s saying something. Plus, they had robots.

◯ Serbia – 2019 – They seemed like really nice people, but I found last year’s Serbian entry itself to be a bit of a minestrone into which a dozen elements of other songs were chucked in, and thus was lacking a bit in coherence. “Kruna”, on the other hand, is perfectly-formed, poignant, beautifully orchestrated and one of the best Balkan ballads in the past few years.

◯ Slovenia – 2018 – Fair play to Slovenia for picking themselves up and dusting themselves off after a few rough years. Hvala ne was backed by almost no one to qualify but I had faith in it early on and Lea benefited from being able to make a real connection with the crowds. Sebi is a very different beast entirely. Whilst Hvala ne had a defiance and a frenetic energy, Sebi is contemplative and melancholy. Both have great lyrics, too. I am going with Slovenia at the minute as it’s stood the test of time, but really the better of the two songs is really a question of mood.

And the automatic qualifiers of this semi-final:

◯ France – 2018 – It’s a battle between two songs written by the same writers, and since I loved their 2018 work, their follow-up should have a chance of making this a closely-run thing. Shóúld. Instead, they went from writing an understated song about humanity to writing an overbearingly pompous and self-important song about ego. This is the worst French song to me since 1988.

◯ Israel – 2018 – I wonder if Israel’s broadcasters remember how their predecessor, the IBU, won on home soil in 1979. I have the feeling they might well do, and as a result ensured it wouldn’t happen again with this song. There are elements of the song I really like, but it’s let down for me by a snivelly, exaggerated voice and a rather self-indulgent chorus. I was no great fan of “Toy”, but can listen to it with more pleasure than this.

◯ Spain – 2018 – I remember when “Tu canción" came out and I was completely in love with it. The unfortunate thing about songs sung by starry-eyed young loves is that their relationships often end up star-crossed. Now, Almaia is no more, and the song has a hugely bitter aftertaste. Nonetheless, I prefer it to La venda, which is a rather empty song lyrically but which I still found the best of a bad lot in the Spanish national final.

Coming up in the next instalment, my thoughts on SF2’s songs and how they shape up to those from last year!

#eurovision #esc 2019 #opinion #esc #eurovision 2019 #eurovision song contest

19 notes · View notes

roslinadama-sinequanon · 6 years

Text

Fourth of July with the Flynn’s.

This turned out to be much longer than I planned, a full story not just a drabble. But to get it out for the fourth I wrote it very quickly so please forgive any mistakes.

Santa Lucia is a fictional town.

Summary: It's been 8 months since they got married and Andy and Sharon have just moved into their new Spanish Revival house on the coast and they have invited all their family and friends over for a large barbecue to celebrate the 4th of July.

You can read this here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15172376 or here:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12991196/1/Fourth-of-July-with-the-Flynn-s

or right here:

*********

Even though he was used to being woken in the middle of the night, Andy was not an early riser. He usually needed an alarm. Sharon, on the other hand, often woke before her alarm and she was one of those lucky morning people, able to splash a little cold water on her face and was wide-awake. “It’s a mother thing,” she had assured him while he stumbled bleary-eyed to the kitchen for his coffee, needing that quick kick of caffeine to send him on his way.

Today, the feel of the sun warm on his cheek woke him before his alarm, while Sharon slumbered on beside him. Opening his eyes, he squinted against the natural light slightly disoriented and trying to gain his bearings in a still unfamiliar setting. Scanning the room, he saw walls painted a warm golden cream, long drapes in deep rich terracotta, a small kiva fireplace facing the bed from the corner and large windows with a comfortable window seat overlooking the backyard and the pool. Straight ahead was the source of most of the sunlight. French doors that opened out to a large terrace allowing them a glimpse of the Pacific that he knew would broaden when he stepped outside.

Home. He smiled. They were home.

Rising from their new bed with its intricate swirled wrought iron headboard and footboard, he padded over to the doors and flung them wide open, inhaling deeply the scent of the Pacific on the breeze. He leaned against the rail, looking out over the red-tiled roofs of the houses below them. They were a half mile from the water, but high enough up one of the many hills to have a gorgeous view of the ocean and coastline. Nestled between Santa Monica and the Palisades, Santa Lucia was a small former fishing village with a secluded cove that still held some of that old California charm. He and Sharon had fallen in love with the house and the town the minute they had set foot here. After visiting well over a dozen homes all over LA, they had begun to despair that they would ever find exactly what they were looking for…and then they had stepped into this house. It had everything they wanted--including a separate mother in law suite off the garage so that Rusty had his own personal quarters where he could come and go. Yes, he would still need to use the kitchen but he was now far enough away from their bedroom that they would no longer have to worry about the thumping and pumping of their bed, a remark that he had made to Sharon that had earned him a slap on the arm. Sharon was not incredibly vocal in bed but he knew that she too was getting tired of trying to stifle her soft cries and low moans when they made love and of having to cover his mouth when he groaned out his completion.

The cream stucco Spanish Revival, with its Mediterranean wooden shutters and red -tiled roof had four bedrooms that included their master with its walk-in closet and large en-suite master bath, 2 guest rooms upstairs and the mother in law bedroom/sitting room combo downstairs. There were three and a half baths, a small formal living room and a larger family room. The ceilings were high, painted white and had gorgeous dark wood exposed beams. The rooms led one to the other through graceful Moorish archways. The kitchen was open to the dining room and the dining room doors opened out to a pergola covered patio. Just off the kitchen was a small office with a view of the olive tree in the front yard and a nice bright laundry room. Off the dining room, to the right was an addition, a screened in porch, the ceiling of which was their master bedroom terrace. The house came with a two-car garage, a decent sized backyard with a pool, a hot tub and a couple of citrus trees and it was everything they had been looking for and more. Its only drawback was a bit longer commute than they had wanted, but the gorgeous view, the cool ocean breezes, and the backyard oasis more than made up for that. It was a house they could envision one day retiring in; a house that would be a perfect fit for the many grandbabies they hoped would surround them in the future.

“You’re up early.” Arms wrapped around his torso and he felt the warmth of Sharon’s breasts pressed into his back, her lips soft on the nape of his neck.

“We have a lot to do. Got a big crowd coming.” He turned into her embrace.

“Yes, we do. Thank God we have almost everything unpacked.” They had moved in a week ago and had most of the rooms in order, with a few things here or there left to unpack or rearrange, mostly in the guest rooms and the office.

“It’s a good thing we had some time on the books, and that your son is such a whiz with electronics.” Ricky had taken some time off leading up to the fourth to help with the move. They had hired professional movers to get everything in, and being as organized as Sharon was, everything was labeled well and put in the exact right spot. But, there had been some rearranging and a lot of unpacking and they had needed Ricky to help set up the large screen TV Andy had purchased for the family room and the surround sound that came with it. Sharon wasn’t a big TV watcher but Andy had sold her when he played up to her major weakness asking her to envision football games on such a big screen, “it will be almost like we’re there” he had pressured, like a kid convincing his mom. She had caved into his enthusiasm with a long-suffering sigh but secretly was really looking forward to curling up on the big plush leather couch that had come from Andy’s house via storage and spending football Sunday’s watching the games on the big screen.

“Well.” Andy startled Sharon out of her reverie. “Work isn’t going to get done with the two of us staring at the ocean all day. Let’s go woman.” He smacked Sharon on her silk-clad butt on his way back into the bedroom.

Sharon shook her head with an affectionate roll of her eyes. Her husband was so excited to have the whole the family and the squad coming over for a traditional Fourth of July barbecue that he could hardly contain himself. Almost a year ago they’d looked at their first house together and he’d been nearly giddy when he said to her, “An affordable house in the Hollywood Hills and a family to share it with,“ only to have those dreams come crashing down when the realtor informed them that the house had black mold. That had been the end of that. Now his dream was finally coming true. They were married, had five children between them and a comfortable home they could share with family and friends.

****

They found Rusty still in his pajamas sitting half asleep at the island in the middle of the kitchen. His head was propped on his hand and he was half-heartedly spooning cereal into his mouth.

“I would have made you breakfast,” Andy said.

“Mm…I needed a break from all the eggs.”

Sharon gave Andy a shrug. She had bought Andy a state of the art grilling station with gas, charcoal and wood options, along with several burners as her house-warming gift to him. Every morning, since they’d moved in, he'd gone outside, cooked them all eggs and turkey bacon, and grilled wheat toast, which they ate outside on the old farmer's table they had bought at the Long Beach Antique Market and had set up under the pergola.

Andy stood with the carton of eggs in his hand. “Would you rather have French toast?” He asked Sharon.

“French toast sounds lovely.” She sat beside Rusty at the large dark wood island with the granite top and three chairs that came from her condo bar and asked, “Why are you up so early this morning?”

Rusty’s narrowed eyes fell on Andy where he stood in his pajama bottoms and gray t-shirt at the coffee/tea bar they had set up along one wall. “Ask your husband.”

Sharon bit back a smile. Andy was always “your husband” now when Rusty was irritated with him. “Andy?”

“What?” He turned to see her looking at him expectantly. “Oh for god sake I asked the kid to put up a little patriotic bunting.”

“A little? Geez, you should see the stuff he bought.”

Sharon continued to fight her smile. She had found a man whose sense of occasion was every bit as strong as hers.

“Where is Ricky, isn’t he going to help?”

Rusty gestured toward the yard. “He’s already out there.” His older brother and his stepfather were two peas in a pod. He wasn’t sure who was more enthusiastic about the party, Ricky or Andy.

“Sharon, you want a cappuccino?” Andy was still at the coffee bar. They had gotten an espresso maker as a wedding gift and once he had figured out how to use the damn thing, he had become obsessed with it. Cappuccino was his new drink of choice.

“I’d love one.”

He set to work and soon the kitchen was filled with the sloshing and gurgling of foaming milk. Sharon accepted the large ceramic mug he handed her when it was finished and, sipping at the froth, she followed him through the dining room. They had kept her dining room table and chairs, only now it sat under an elegantly scrolled iron chandelier in the Spanish Revival style of the house. Once outside she sat at the table, leaning back and enjoying the peace of the morning while Andy cooked at the grill. The little waterfall that ran from the hot tub into the pool gurgled soothingly and it was nice to listen to birds chirping rather than the sound of traffic.

“Dammit!”

Okay, so maybe not so peaceful. “Ricky?” She looked over to the far end of the patio where Ricky had been hanging red, white and blue bunting from the freestanding stucco fireplace and where he was now cursing and hold his hand. “Are you okay, honey?”

“I just hammered my fu…frakking thumb.”

She rose and went to him to take look. “Frakking, huh?” She lifted a brow causing him to grin.

“You still don’t see it?” He asked.

“No, I don’t.” One day during the holidays while she was baking Christmas cookies Emily and Ricky were home and the two of them were watching some Sci-Fi program called Battlestar Galactica with Andy and Rusty. They called her in to take a look and kept talking about how much she looked like the lead character who happened to be the President.

“Mom, Laura Roslin could be your twin.”

“I’m not sure I‘d go that far.” Sharon was not generally a sci-fi fan but that day she had gotten hooked on what they referred to as BSG. It wasn‘t anything like what she had expected. She had also fallen hard for the love story between President Laura Roslin and Admiral William Adama, sobbing at the end when Laura died. She had even seen a tear trail down Andy’s cheek and she’d never seen him cry over a movie or TV show. “She just looks so much like you, “ he’d said. She had assured him that this was real life and in real life, women did not always have to die at the end.

****

“I swear to God if he serves up that dry, flourless, sugarless, tasteless thing he called a cake or tofu or whatever health food kick he’s on now, we are going home.”

Andy rolled his eyes at Sharon. “Provenza’s here.” Sharon looked up from where she was rearranging food on another table she’d set up under the pergola to see Provenza and Patrice coming around the house from the side yard.

“Sharon, everything looks beautiful. I can’t believe how much you’ve gotten done in a week.” Patrice took in the red white and blue bunting draped along the house, the patriotic balloons and the big American flag tacked to the side of the gardener’s shed. She and Louis had helped the Flynn’s move in last week, well, she had helped and Louis had sat around on the couch shouting out orders as to where things should go…and grumbling when Andy ignored him.

“Thank you, Patrice.” Sharon took the large bowl Patrice handed her.

“Potato salad,” Patrice said. “My grandmother’s recipe.”

“It looks delicious.” Sharon set it down next to what she had already laid out. Baskets of tortilla chips, salsa, and her favorite garlic guacamole, mounds of cheese, crackers, and salami, bowls of olives and pounds of jumbo shrimp and cocktail sauce.

Andy watched his friend eyeing the table, sniffing appreciatively. “But since you might not like what we’re serving, I think you ought to eat this.” He handed Provenza the veggie platter he was about to set on the table.

“Now, now, Flynn, I may have been a little hasty in my judgment.”

“You think?”

Patrice leaned into Sharon. “And they’re off.”

“Papa Andy! Mimi! We’re here.” Tyler and Scotty raced around the house throwing themselves at Andy and Sharon.

“Indeed you are.” Sharon swung Scotty up onto her hip, while Andy lifted Tyler.

“Mimi?” Provenza asked, his lip quirking at the cutesy name for his elegant Commander.

“When Andy and I got married they wanted to know what to call me. I told them they could pick. We went through the choices, they liked Grammy Sharon but thought it was too long so they shortened it to Mimi.”

“I think it fits,” Amy said, eyeing her boss who was wearing a low cut one piece navy bathing suit with tiny white stars and a mid-length red sarong tied around her slender waist… “You sure as heck don’t look like anyone’s grandmother.”

“And she’s not sucking up this time,” Julio said.

Sharon smiled at them appreciatively then asked the boys. “Where are your mom and dad?”

“They’re coming. We wanna go swimming.”

“Sorry about all this,” Nicole set a couple of bowls down on the food table while Dean followed her carrying various flotation devices. “I told the boys that you said you had floats for them to keep here but they wanted to make sure.”

“Wait until you see what I’ve got.“ Andy set Tyler down as did Sharon with Scotty and he beckoned them to follow him to the shed. “Mark you come too.” Mark grinned at Julio who nodded.

“Go with your Uncle Andy.” Mark raced off. He had gotten to know Tyler and Scotty at the wedding so Julio knew they were all going to have a good time.

“Whoa! That’s so cool.” The boys were gushing enthusiastically over Andy’s choices. Three oversized floats, a killer whale, a great white shark and an alligator. However, what really got them excited was when he pulled out several large squirt guns that looked like bazookas.

“Look mom!” Tyler ran to Nicole to show her one up close. “Papa said they’re Super Soaker Zombinator’s. They kill zombies.” Nicole showed her appreciation and he ran off back toward the pool where Andy was filling the guns with water.

“A Zombinator?” She questioned Sharon who shrugged.

“Don’t ask me. Your dad picked them out. In fact, I think he was just as excited about them as the boys.”

“Not surprising,” Provenza rumbled. He shook his head watching Andy filling the excited boys' water guns. “It looks like he bought out the store.”

“He wanted to make sure there were enough for everyone. And…he figured it wouldn’t be just the boys who would want to use them.”

“He figured right.” Amy watched with amusement as Ricky, Rusty, Coop, Julio, Buzz, and Wes all went to check out this new toy.

“Men,“ Patrice shook her head good-humouredly. “They never really grow up.”

“Not true. You don’t see me over there,” Provenza said.

“Speaking of which,” Sharon eyed him. “Aren’t you going to put your bathing suit on?”

“I don’t wear bathing suits.”

“Not even to swim?” Amy asked.

“I don’t swim. I do, however, like to eat.” He grabbed a plate and started filling it with food.

“Hello, Captain. I mean Captain Sharon. I mean Commander…uh Hello, Sharon.”

Sharon would know that stuttering southern drawl anywhere and turned with a welcoming smile.

“Brenda, Fritz. I’m so glad you could make it.” She wasn’t sure they would come. She was still close to Fritz, of course, they had a great working relationship, but while she and Brenda were no longer adversaries and had even come to a sort of tentative friendship, they would never be close. They were just too different. And with Fritz and Brenda working through a long-distance marriage with her in Atlanta and him in LA, the last time Sharon had seen them together was at her and Andy’s wedding,

“Your house is beautiful, just beautiful.” Brenda felt awkward. She always did in social situations. At one time, she had been so close to these people. She’d been their chief. But when she walked away from Major Crimes, she never looked back. That’s just the way she was. People were in her life or they were out of her life. She had no long-term friendships or ties and now she felt like she hardly knew them at all. And she had certainly never known them like this. Seeing them all here, in Andy and Sharon Flynn’s--and would she ever get used to saying that---backyard they really looked like a family. She got updates from Fritz so she knew what was going on in her old department and she knew that Sharon Raydor, of all people, had created a bond between the squad that was far deeper than the one they’d had working under her.

***

Otis Redding was singing about sitting on the dock of the bay and Sharon was relaxed, listening to the music and sipping on a frozen margarita while watching the guys roughhousing in the pool. She had taken her dip and was cool and content. She watched Ricky dunk under water and come up with Rusty on his shoulders, Julio did the same with Mark, Dean with Tyler and then….Andy with Scotty. She leaned forward anxiously in her chair.

“He’s okay, Sharon.” Patrice rested a comforting hand on her forearm. “The clot is long gone.”

“I know.” She tried to release her tension. “I guess old habits die hard.”

Patrice smiled sympathetically and then glanced over at Andy. “He’s really in his element out there.”

“Are you kidding me? He’s been waiting for this kind of thing since the day we closed on the house…no let me take that back, I think he’s been dreaming about this from the day we decided to buy a house together.”

The softness in the look on Sharon’s face as she watched her husband and kids caused Patrice to draw another conclusion. “I think maybe you’ve been looking forward to this just as much as him.”

“Am I that obvious?” Sharon sipped her drink, relishing the tang of the lime and kick of tequila.

Patrice shrugged and laughed. “Yeah, actually you are.”

“I guess I just …” she paused at the prickling sensation of tears stinging her eyes. “I never thought I’d have this in my life. I’m just so grateful. For Andy, for our family, for all of this. It’s something I never had with my first husband.”

The boys began to shriek with laughter as their game of “chicken” began, drawing the women’s attention back to the pool. “Enjoy it now honey, you might be wishing for some of that peace and solitude real soon.”

After their game of ‘chicken’ and a spirited water polo match, the boys started a cannonball competition. Julio had made the biggest splash so far, thus, he was winning when Scotty called out to Sharon, “Mimi, you do a cannonball.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tyler said. “Mimi’s skinny, you gotta be big to make a big splash.”

“Thank you Tyler, I love you,” Sharon blew him a kiss.

“And what do you mean by big?” Julio feigned outrage. “Are you saying I’m fat? You‘re going to pay that for that ninito.” Julio tossed him in the air and Tyler came up sputtering and giggling.

“You’re gonna win, Uncle Julio,” he assured the now laughing man. “I don’t think Mimi can do a cannonball anyway.”

“What do you mean you don’t think Mimi can do a cannonball?” Sharon took off her sunglasses and turned on her best Darth Raydor glare.

Andy grinned. “When she looks at you like that boys, you better watch out.”

“That’s right you better watch out. You watched me dive into the pool.”

“Diving’s different.”

“Well, I can sure as heck do a cannonball.” Sharon set her margarita glass down, stood, tossed off her wide-brimmed hat, untied her sarong and jumped in the pool cannonball style. The boys all cheered for her but still declared Julio the winner.

“Close your jaw, Brenda Leigh,” Provenza smirked.

Brenda did, but still had a funny look on her face. “If you would have told me 10 years ago, that Andy Flynn would be married to Sharon Raydor and that I’d be sitting by their pool watching her do a cannonball I would have thought you were on hallucinogens.”

“Join my world, Brenda Leigh, join my world.“

With the cannonball competition over the guys left the pool to set up a volleyball net in the grass with almost everyone participating in a rousing game. Everyone that is, except for Provenza who laid in a chaise lounge calling out his critiques.

“That was lazy Flynn; you could have gotten to that one.”

Sharon turned with her hands on her hips. “Which Flynn are you referring too, Louis?” Her sweetly asked question was laced with an underlying deadly edge.

“Remember, when she looks at you like that you gotta watch out,” Tyler said, remembering what Andy had told them.

“I’ll keep that mind. Of course, I’d never call you lazy, Commander. I was referring to your lazy ass husband.”

“Oh yeah, if you think you could do better why don’t you come out here and play?” Andy shot off.

“Yeah Louis, come on,” Patrice called to him.

“Ye Gods, I don’t think so.” Provenza pulled his little white hat down over his eyes and pretended to take a nap.

Andy rolled his eyes and hit the ball over the net. He loved this, it was what he had always wanted, a big family, music, noise, laughter, people arguing, and football games in the backyard. The only thing missing, other than Emily of course, was a dog or two but he was sure that would come eventually.

As the afternoon progressed more guests arrived, the doctors Joe and Morales, Gavin and Andrea, Andy’s son Justin, Judge Steven Grove and his wife Linda and even Leo Mason and his family. Andy stood at the grill in his American flag swimming trunks and flip-flops deftly flipping burgers, hot dogs and the chicken shish kebobs he had been marinating overnight, while also keeping an eye on the vat of barbecued pulled pork staying warm on one of the burners. He changed the Sirius station he’d had playing out over the Bose outdoor speakers, a wedding gift from Ricky, from ‘Margaritaville’ which they’d been listening to all afternoon, to the Dodgers game.

Along with the meats Andy was cooking, the potluck side dishes included a variety of salads--- Caprese, Caesar, broccoli, potato, macaroni, and pasta---coleslaw, baked beans, garlic bread, and cornbread. There were also plenty of desserts, cookies, brownies and blueberry pie. But when everyone had finished eating Sharon went inside to get the piece de resistance. A large strawberry sheet cake she had frosted with whipped cream and decorated with big fat blueberries and lines of sliced strawberries in the design of the American flag. She popped in two sparklers and lit them so when she walked out with the cake it was shooting sparks everywhere.

The kids were thrilled.

As the day turned to dusk some of the partygoers left, while others followed Andy, Sharon and their family down to the beach to watch the small fireworks display the town was going to set off on the pier. There were a couple of bonfires and a small live band playing patriotic favorites. Mark, Tyler, and Scott saw the vendor trucks set up on the edge of the beach and convinced their parents they needed a Kona Ice to watch the fireworks. When they got in line Andy and Sharon continued on to find a good spot.

The breeze off the Pacific had a slight chill with the tide coming in so Andy set their blanket up fairly close to the bonfire. He sat with his knees lifted, Sharon between them, her back to his front and he wrapped his arms around her. Little kids ran around on the beach waving sparklers, random firecrackers went off and colorful orbs of fire lit the sky from private backyard displays. The night sky over the Pacific sparkled with stars in a natural display of beauty. Sharon leaned back against Andy, his voice warm, tickling her ear. Content, that is how she felt, purely, completely content.

The band had just finished that old Arlo Guthrie hit “City of New Orleans” when the rest of the family joined them with their Kona snow cones.

“We got one for you Papa and Mimi,” Tyler held out red-topped snow cone.

“Tigers Blood,” Mark said.

“Sounds delicious,” Andy took the cone.

“You have to share,” Tyler said, turning to glare at his younger brother. “Scotty dropped one.”

Seeing that Scotty was about to burst into tears, Sharon reached out and took the little boys hand. “It’s okay Scott. I’m still so stuffed from all that food today; I couldn’t possibly eat a whole snow cone. “

“See, I told you, buddy.” Rusty prodded the boy.

Andy held the snow cone out to Sharon who took a bite off the sweet icy top. “See, we can share, no problem. Now, why don’t you guys get settled in before things get started.“

A whistling noise filled the air and suddenly the sky was alight with dazzling explosions of color. The fireworks had begun.

*****

When it was over, the crowd cheering at the finale, the band had one last song. A rousing sing-along that was one of Sharon’s favorites not just because it was about the beauty of the nation but because it really summed up what America was at its best, a government of the people, by the people, and for the people as Lincoln said in his Gettysburg address. And, even the boys could sing along to this one.

This land is your land, this land is my land From California to the New York island From the Redwood Forest, to the Gulf Stream waters This land was made for you and me

As I went walking that ribbon of highway I saw above me that endless skyway And saw below me that golden valley This land was made for you and me

I roamed and rambled and I followed my footsteps To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts And all around me, a voice was sounding This land was made for you and me

When the sun comes shining, then I was strolling In the wheat fields waving and dust clouds rolling The voice was chanting as the fog was lifting This land was made for you and me

As I went walking I saw a sign there And on the sign it said "No Trespassing." But on the other side it didn't say nothing, That side was made for you and me.

In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people, By the relief office I seen my people; As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking Is this land still made for you and me?

Nobody living can ever stop me, As I go walking that freedom highway; Nobody living can ever make me turn back This land was made for you and me.

This land is your land and this land is my land From California to the New York island From the Redwood Forest, to the Gulf Stream waters This land was made for you and me.

Happy Birthday America! Proud of your past, looking forward to your future, surviving your present.

#sharon raydor #andy flynn #shandy #Major Crimes #shandy fourth of july #sharonmattered #because this is how it should have been

45 notes · View notes

macmillan66macmillan-blog · 5 years

Text

Proofreading as well as revising.

Yet if you possess actual concerns about your youngster's actions as well as observe mood modifications, falling grades, mounting costs, or a shortage from human communication, you might intend to chat with your pediatrician regarding the option from activity dependence or even the tip that an additional concern, such as clinical depression, may be leading to these troubles. Although the iPhone 6 uses a 4.7-inch display it is certainly not that much larger compared to the apple iphone 5. The iPhone 6 vs apple iphone 5 images above present the brand new bent edges on the apple iphone 6, in addition to slimmer volume keys and also an electrical power button that is currently on the right side of the tool for less complicated access. A second wide practice consists of condition regulations prohibiting advertising from liquor beverages or which limit the advertising of costs. Without his comment is here , it could be pointed out that without the policy scientific researches, the administrative condition will be actually almost difficult to run. Cambridge Analytica has the technical tools to effect behavioural and mental modification, she stated, but that's SCL that strategises it. It has actually specialized, at the highest degree - for Nato, the MoD, the United States condition division and also others - in modifying the behaviour from sizable groups. Push the ring into the concrete, being sure that does not move the edges from the types. Don't forget, analytic creating transcends the noticeable to talk about inquiries from just how and also why-- so ask yourself those inquiries as you go through. But excess solder can easily puddle inside water pipes, restraining water flow, and also can easily create small spheres that break loose and damage tap valves. Spot 2x4 stakes as well as 2x4 secrets every 2 ft. along the form panels for support (Photograph 2). Kickers slant down right into the ground and maintain the best of the stakes coming from bending external. Listed here, our company're going to use a basic method from triple-clicks on the Residence switch to toogle AssistiveTouch. Usage marking paint (upsidedown spray paint) to denote the ground alongside the kind. The idea of the workhouse has encouraged countless tunes, works of art, as well as publications - none more popular in comparison to Charles Child's Oliver Twist, which first showed up in sequential form in Bentley's Odds and ends in 1837. find more info is that individual reads through a single word from a memory card, like onomatopoeia", then every person moves on to write a simulated meaning for this word. Gboard additionally possesses an emoji as well as GIF hunt, plus voice inputting and 'Slide typing' (where you swipe throughout letters rather than tapping all of them). It had not been long prior to the brightest and most eager university faculty and grads started being attracted to Washington, D.C.-- the new center from economic, social, and political choice creation. There have actually been a lot of tries to remove the difficulties connected with the individual uncertainty principle by inventing or even putting forward some kind of fixed partnership between the attendees' reasoning as well as the real condition from relationships. Initially, your visitor will certainly need to know the answers to the exact same concerns that our experts explained above. The Microsoft window variation needs a Windows 7 (Solution Pack 1), Microsoft window 8.1, or Windows 10 operating system. Plus many people that create muscle are actually very self mindful about certainly there appeal thus there is actually no have to outrage them for attempting to strengthen on their own. Or even if it is actually, that it may be conserved even after 8 even more years from essential makeover"-- which indicates managerial state combination and also supervisory training class entrenchment. Moreover, incantation checkers are going to certainly not record misspellings that establish one more authentic phrase.

In December, Wyoming Guv Matt Mead mentioned that transmitting social property to his state was actually legitimately as well as fiscally unwise. The traditional instance is actually hydrolyzed soy products healthy protein." This organic taste" disappears than a kind glutemate. Twenty-somethings today have actually grown up along with social networks, yet they are actually tapping into a classic type of interaction. The majority of modernist authors dismissed him, nevertheless, given that he was actually well-liked and performed not write within their narrow definition from literary works. Cover the ground inside the types along with 6-mil polyethylene sheeting if you're building a hot structure on the piece. Enjoy our quick apple iphone 6 vs iPhone 5 video clip to observe the largest differences that upgraders should gone on the hunt for this autumn. The swipe-up-from-the-bottom Control Center overlay food selection has an all new look that aids declutters the format in iOS 10, as well as that is actually one thing Apple individuals have actually been asking for. As for the phony GENERAL PRACTITIONER switching backward and forward to your real place and the site you wish to be in is actually tricky. Tighten the kinds to the within the concerns along with a number of 1-1/4 in. drywall screws. A bigger troop from 3,000 Spanish soldiers landed in Kinsale in south-west Ireland in 1601 to support Irish revolutionists however were actually pushed to surrender. To me higher powerful assortment is actually even more interesting in comparison to 4K, 3D or every other TV advancement due to the fact that hd itself. There is actually a large variety, nonetheless, from type variables to pick from when looking around for a brand-new COMPUTER. The minimalism and also compressed nature of all-in-one personal computers makes certain to appeal to those hopeless for availability. This's monkey vs monkey for the first time ever - go go to move along with other gamers in a Bloon-popping struggle for victory. Combining an affection for British guitar pop songcraft with grinding electrical power chords and a panache for the ridiculous, Economical Method delivered the required web links between '60s stand out, heavy metal, and also hooligan. For Americans seeking much better relationships to markets, the unsatisfactory condition of the road unit was a significant trouble. That slap in his pals' skins is factually wrong merely because it perplexes the Right along with the de-cultured masses of Europeans that refuse the ceremonious or informal uniparty" coalitions that are the heritage from the Left behind's cultural-political hegemony. Note chat, be familiar with us, as well as ask us for gif guidance if you are actually beginning! I will be a little bit of self-conscious of that I have the initial season from 90210 on my iPod, one thing I downloaded for a buddy's 14 year old daughter (details to personal: remove it right now!). The design templates aid you begin someplace, offering you ideas to generate your own form.

1 note · View note

alyjojo · 2 years

Text

Past Life 🌞 Karmic Spread January 2022 - Aquarius

Gender I’m Picking Up On (in the past life): Male

Who You Were: 8 Pentacles

What You Did: The Hermit

How It Ended: 4 Pentacles

What Karma Was Brought With You: 2 Swords

Who You Brought With You: 9 Wands

Additional energy: 3 Pentacles

Past Life Oracle: Persecution/Inquisition, Knighthood, Money

Dreaming Way: Tree & Moon

Charm: Treble Clef & Black Swan

Whew. Aquarius. I spent a long time working with this energy, because it’s very negative and I don’t want it to be, that’s not a very fun story for someone to read, but it is that way. This is the life of a religious zealot, a Knight. Spirit highlighted the word Inquisition, which led me to look up the Spanish Inquisition, and I spent a bit of time on that...it could be, but that is not what drew me specifically. Knights Templar stood out clearly to me and I felt the connection immediately. If not them specifically, close to it. You worked for the Catholic church, in a brotherhood of knights, but you weren’t close to anyone by any means, not even your Knight “brotherhood”. You were concerned with money, and land, and striking down forces of evil or “heresies”. Some of these knights escorted Christians to Jerusalem for safety purposes when it was captured by Christians, that may have happened, but I pick up on the energy more of taking the wealth & land away from those of other religions, people the Catholic Church would deem heresies based on other religions, witchcraft, what have you. You were very greedy, wealthy, powerful, aggressive, and wholly concerned with what you earned. You kept to yourself, stayed silent most often, and didn’t form relationships, if you had any family or children, they aren’t mentioned here. The Knights Templar had a tragic ending of torture and persecution in their own right, but you must’ve been before that, because you died wealthy & still living out and fully believing the narrow views you spent a lifetime defending.

I had a time with the charm. Initially, I pulled the Treble Clef. I never question Spirit, I just put them where I’m told to put them. Moon. I stared at it for a moment and didn’t get any energy off of it and for the first time I questioned the choice, saying “This makes no sense.” I was told to draw again, which I don’t do. So I reluctantly put it back, closed my eyes, shook up all the charms, and drew two. I asked which one and heard both, and when I opened my eyes I was holding the same Treble Clef with Black Swan, aggression, an evil omen, and I had shivers all over my body. That energy is what I’ve felt most of this read, it’s not good. They both went on Moon.

Music in particular, drinking songs or general celebratory music, all versions of storytelling, myths, fantasy and imagination (Moon) drew you to believe someone was against the Church, and you were very aggressive in action towards them, under the cloak of “just doing your job.” The one positive thing I can find here, is your love of the forest, trees, the land and all things that are green, you felt at home outdoors. In your later life you may have worked frequently with crops and trees specifically, it brought you a lot of happiness to make things grow and to give to the Earth.

In this life, you are incredibly indecisive, especially when it comes to teamwork. You shy away from deep commitment and relationships, and have a general wariness and mistrust of most people though you can’t explain why. 9 Wands representing a person may be someone you’ve wronged in a past life, someone you’re fighting with again in this life. The 9 indicates a “last battle” for you in this connection, perhaps meaning that this is the lifetime the two of you come to make amends. In this case, 3 Pentacles does indicate teamwork, and you may learn to work out your differences and even join together in balance.

#aquarius tarot reading #past life #karma #Aquarius #tarot #january 2022 #this energy stuck with me for hours

0 notes

jibunstudies · 6 years

Photo

Lately I’ve been getting a lot of questions from people like “Wow, you’ve been learning Japanese for such a short time! How did you progress so fast?” and “What are some tips/tricks for sounding more colloquial and natural when I speak?”

My answer is always the same: talk to natives.

No matter what language you’re learning, the ultimate goal is to be able to talk to people in that language, right? I mean, you wouldn’t start learning French with all of its vowels if it weren’t for the allure of getting to one day have French-speaking friends or, gasp, a French-speaking lover! Don’t forget the access to thousands of new books, television shows, films, and songs, too!

Learning a new language unlocks a lot of doors, but the main one is you unlock an entirely new form of communicating with brand new people.

You didn’t slave for hours over correct tones in Mandarin not to get out there and speak it with people, right?!

When I tell people “talk to natives,” a lot of times they say, “But I don’t live in Japan like you!" True story: I was talking to natives an entire year before I came to Japan. I had friends here before I even left U.S. soil! It has both drastically improved my experience in Japan and my language abilities.

This post is fairly long, so more information under the cut!

So, how do you start talking to natives if you don’t live in your target language’s country?

Okay, this is where the internet + language learning is amazing. There are so many resources online that make it possible to get in touch with native speakers! The cool part? You’ll also get to teach them your native language. This can be a lot of fun, especially because it’ll help you understand where your own mistakes come from (direct translations are not a thing, people!).

FIRST, LET’S TALK APPS & WEBSITES

HelloTalk (free + paid) -- HelloTalk is the app I recommend most to people looking to talk to natives. One of the most rewarding features about this app is Moments. You post a “diary” entry, and natives can like it, correct it, and respond to it! Not only does it mean you’re receiving corrections, but you’re interacting with people. It can be a little scary at first, but after a few posts it gets a lot easier! I also like the ability to narrow the age ranges that can contact you, as well as the option to allow only native speakers of your target language. Overall, this app is just really great for getting to know natives. I’ve made so many friends on this app that I still talk to almost a year and a half later!

HiNative (free) -- I love this app for those “oh crap, how do I say this?!” moments that are unavoidable. You can also ask for pronunciation help and translations! This app is less about interaction and more about getting native input/correction, but that’s invaluable. Post something in your target language like “How do I say ‘hello’?” and you’ll have an answer from a native within minutes. Oftentimes, natives will say “We say it this way, but you might want to say it this way to a friend,” which is the start of your colloquial language journey. (･ω<)☆

Speaky (free) -- This app is fairly similar to HelloTalk but without the Moments feature. It also has the ability to add more than one language (HelloTalk requires a paid membership to study more than one language and has a maximum of three). I used it for a little while and it’s a bit more glitchy, but overall this is a great app either way! It allows natives to correct you and gives you the opportunity to start chatting almost immediately.

Tandem (free) -- This is another app similar to Hellotalk and Speaky, but it doesn’t have a Moments feature either. You can receive messages and corrections from natives as well! Tandem also has a bit of an authentication system, so you won’t be able to start using it right away (it only took them around 2 hours to get back to me though).

iTalki (free + paid) -- This is probably one of the best websites for language learners out there. Free resources include an active community of natives + learners asking and answering questions, blog posts and tips from natives (I love this!), as well as a messaging + friend system. Paid resources include access to native tutors that can teach you through Skype sessions from 30-60 minutes at a time about anything you want! Lessons range in price based on the tutor, but they’re a fraction of the cost of college classes and (to be totally honest) 10x more helpful.

Conversation Exchange (free) -- This allows you to connect with natives that are living in your area, but if you’re not up for meeting with people or there aren’t any people to meet with, there’s also a penpal option! There’s also text, voice, and video chat options if you’re looking for something a little more “instant” or digital.

Verbling (free + paid) -- Verbling has features similar to iTalki in that it allows you to connect with native speakers that have been selected to be tutors (there’s an application process). They also have an active community of natives + learners asking and answering questions. Their language variety is fairly expansive as well!

My Language Exchange (free + paid) -- This website is really cool because it allows you to apply a multitude of filters when looking for partners such as city, age range, gender, type of interaction (text, email, video, voice, etc), and more! It’s a great way to really look for people that you’ll likely talk to long term.

Wyzant (paid) -- This website is actually a full-on tutoring website (which means they have math, sciences, and more available), but languages are there as well! It’s similar to iTalki and Verbling, but it helps match you with a tutor based on your interests and language learning goals.

Bilingua (free) -- This app is still fairly new and in some beta stages, but it has a HelloTalk feel with an additional feature: topic prompts! So if it seems you’re running out of things to discuss with your language partner, it’ll help you along in order to keep the conversation going. There’s also an online community, but it’s not too active so it’s better to check out the app first and see if it fits you.

BUT HOW DO I KNOW WHICH APP IS RIGHT FOR ME?!

That’s where you have to start your journey through applications and find what fits your needs and wants. In my case, HelloTalk was the gem app that helped me from basic phrases to full-on conversations about various topics. I met amazing people that became good friends that I still keep in touch with now.

I also love iTalki because tutors are invaluable, and the interface of the website is easy to navigate. I also like the ability to communicate with my tutors before the lesson in a private chat.

Finding an app that works for you might take time! I know a lot of people that don’t like HelloTalk but love Tandem. I personally don’t like Tandem but love HelloTalk. It’s based on preference and language. Some apps are better for certain languages or have more active communities!

You’ve downloaded the app...but now what?

So now that you’ve got your app, you’ve written your short bio telling people what you’re learning and what you’re doing, and you’re all set to start...you’re stuck. Who do you talk to? What do you say? Do you start in your language? Their language? Both?!

I promise it’s not as overwhelming as you’re making it out to be! Take a breath and think about everything you’ve learned so far. What are basic introductions? What’s the best way to introduce yourself? Do you want to do a basic “Hello, my name is ______” introduction? Or do you want to be more thorough and talk about yourself a little bit?

Personally, I do the following:

Select a person based on several criteria: age, gender, and whether or not they have a bio/picture (I prefer to talk to women 18-40 (more on this later))

If they have a bio, read it!!! Likely they talk about where they live, what they’re studying, why they’re studying your native language, and what interests they have (hobbies, if they like movies, etc)

I prefer to start conversations with people I might connect with. My favorite band is One Ok Rock, so if someone has in their bio that they love One Ok Rock, I message them a basic message (below) and follow it up with “Hey, I like One Ok Rock too! What’s your favorite song?” This gets a conversation going and shows you took the time to read their bio!

Basic messages vary from language to language (i.e. Japanese is quite formal in its introductions, but other languages like Spanish have more flexibility in “basic” sayings). It’s important to know how to say hello and introduce yourself. How much you include is up to you, but I recommend at least sharing your name/alias and where you’re from.

After the message is sent, you begin your journey in language exchange! One thing I highly emphasize though is don’t be discouraged if not every language partner works out. I’ve gone through hundreds of language partners (no joke) and have ended up with about 3-4 solid, dependable language partners that I still talk to. Just remember: quality over quantity! It’s better to have 4-5 really great language partners than 20-30 that you have so-so conversations with.

Look for people that genuinely want to help you improve and aren’t just focused on improving themselves. This actually goes both ways! Make sure to talk to your partners in your native tongue as well. This is why I like “dual” messages, or messages that are written in your target language first and then written in your native tongue. This allows you both to practice and correct while using both languages at once! It’s impossible to do this in person, so take advantage of it during text conversations.

⚠️ Safety online

I really don’t want to sound like your mom here, but this part is necessary because there are a lot of minors studying languages on this website and I want to touch on safety before ending this post (for minors and adults).

Do not share information that you don’t want to share. I know this can seem obvious, but I stress this a lot. Even though a website asks for your age/location/gender/photo, don’t feel obligated to share it. If it makes you uncomfortable, make your photo a picture of your dog or favorite celeb. Leave your age + location blank. Keep your privacy!

Do not talk to people that make you feel uncomfortable. Even though these websites stress multiple times during their sign up that they’re language learning applications, there are people looking to “meet someone” in a romantic sense. If someone starts to make you feel uncomfortable, BLOCK THEM. REPORT THEM. Don’t talk to someone that makes you uncomfortable for the sake of language. It isn’t worth it!

Never meet up with people alone. Even if you’ve been talking to them for a year, meet up with them with a friend or family member! If you can, meet in a group. I’ve never met a friend from HelloTalk alone; I always went with a friend. Also, meet in public places or areas where you feel comfortable. Don’t go to an unfamiliar city or area of town.

Be mindful of photos you share. Try not to share photos of other people, and if you do, blur/cover their faces. Don’t share photos of where you live or unique areas you frequent. Even if you live in Germany and are talking to someone in Canada, sharing too much information can be dangerous. I like to share information about vacations I took or places I went, but only if they’re places I don’t frequent or don’t live close to.

Don’t agree to phone call/video chat if you’re not ready. It doesn’t make you a bad language learner if you don’t want to call/video chat with someone because you’re still nervous about showing your face or talking with a stranger. Ask to exchange audio files instead until you’re comfortable with the idea of further communicating with this person.

Don’t give your social media information unless you’re comfortable with it. If you’re learning any of the Asian languages (especially Japanese and Korean), it’s common for people to ask to exchange Line/KakaoTalk IDs. If you’re not comfortable with this, don’t do it. I prefer to wait at least a month before giving out this information to someone, and that’s only after we’ve had consistent and healthy conversations.

A lot of these apps (I think HelloTalk is included) don’t allow people under the age of 18 to sign up. If you’re under the age of 18, it’s up to you (and your parents) whether or not you use these applications. It’s entirely possible to learn a language without a language app/website, so don’t feel like without this you’ll never be fluent. Look into local tutors or classes, or see if there are meet-ups in your area for natives + learners to get together.

And with that...good luck! 頑張ってね！행운을 빈다! ¡Buena suerte! Buona fortuna! Bonne chance! Καλὴ τύχη! Viel Glück! Lykke til! Удачи!

Start talking to natives when you feel you’re ready, but remember not to wait too long or to get caught up in the “I need to improve more” trap. There’s no such thing as too soon, and a lot of people will help you through the basics if you ask them. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes, either! Remember that they’re learning your language too, so mistakes will happen on both sides.

Have fun and get talking!（*＾ω＾）人（＾ω＾*）

127 notes · View notes

greatdrams · 6 years

Text

The five building blocks to creating a great in home whisky bar and cabinet and how to showcase it

So you’ve been collecting whisky for a while and you have a few, or maybe a few hundred bottles scattered across the various rooms in your house but now what? How do you solidify your personal status as a whisky connoisseur versus someone who has a lot of bottles? How can you organise your bottles, or dare I call it collection in a way that makes sense?

Helpfully I am here to help you with all of that with my five building blocks to creating a great in home whisky bar and cabinet.

Number 1 - Decide on your space commitment.

First things first, there is a big distinction between a whisky bar and a whisky cabinet. A whisky cabinet implies a specific place where you can store a ‘few’ bottles, open or closed that keeps them safe and away from prying eyes (well, apart from the chosen few you wish to share the ‘good stuff’ with). On the flip side you have a whisky bar, a dedicated space in your house for you to showcase your diverse and intriguing collection.

The two are not mutually exclusive and should not be seen as such. I, for example, have both a cabinet that holds around fifty bottles that are either my marquee malts or my ‘live’ bottles so they are close at hand for an evening dram following a long day at the office. In addition, in a different part of the house near the kitchen, is the whisky bar that has my more recreational whiskies that are at hand should I need to whip up a cocktail or pour some drams when friends or family pop over.

I’m incredibly fortunate that my wife is both understanding and encouraging of my passion, especially as it has turned into my business so when I declared the now-former utility room was to be cleared out and turned into the ‘whisky bar’ we both repurposed the space within a few days and have never looked back.

Number 2 - Make sure your glassware matches your dedication

Simply put, there’s no point buying expensive and highly enjoyable single malt whisky then serving it from tumblers or shot glassesacting as makeshift whisky vessels. Why? Well, companies have spent a lot of money researching the best glassware for you to enjoy your whiskies from to get the maximum enjoyment from the nose, palate and finish so you might as well do it properly!

Start off by investing in a few Glencairn glasses, you’re going to want to try more than one of your fantastic whiskies in each sitting, especially if friends are round and these are the de facto glass for consuming whisky in the industry, are present in most whisky bars and virtually all whisky distilleries so their credibility and quality are guaranteed.

The Glencairn Glass took years to develop and ultimately won the Queen’s Award for Innovation. In terms of experience, the nose of the liquid is gathered in the body of the glass and then pointed straight through an opening that narrows to bring the different elements together.

There are other options, naturally such as:

The NEAT (“Naturally Engineered Aroma Technology”) Glass, best used when drinking cask strength whiskies as it is specifically designed to remove the nasal burn from higher ABV whiskies by dissipating the ethanol over the rim of the glass.

Another option is the classic tumbler, both versatile and ever-stylish there is always space for this in any home whisky bar or cabinet. My personal preference is for a lead crystal tumbler when enjoying my favourite whiskies and when I have no pressure of dissecting the liquid for the purpose of understanding or review.

Finally, the ISO nosing glass. The design of this one is based on the traditional Spanish Copita glasses used to nose and sample sherry but has been given a contemporary makeover for the whisky market and is more often than not seen at whisky tastings.

Number 3 - Get accessorizing your cabinet

Now you are tooled up with the best glassware available in the industry, you need some additional accessories for use when sampling yourself or when hosting others.

Nothing too onerous or costly here, simply optional experience enhancers that will go a long way towards being able to enjoy the complete whisky ritual at home.

Not a fan of adding ice to your whisky? Well Whisky Stones offer you the ability to enjoy chilled whisky without the risk of dilution over time, assuming the whisky lasts longer than an ice cube that is. Simply put them in the freezer for a few hours and they are good to go. Also useful in home crafted cocktails such as the Old Fashioned.

If you want to go all out and add healthy levels of geekery to the mix, get some simple small pipettes to ensure you add just one or two drops to the stronger whiskies to open up their flavour and enjoy them as they were meant to be enjoyed. Tread carefully when adding water to whiskies in the 40 - 43% ABV bracket as you can easily dilute too much, but this is largely trial and error.

Finally, for those who enjoy a peaty whisky, have you considered peat cones? They are little dried up bits of peat that when lit give a slow burning, peat scented smoke. Using them when sampling can inhibit the ability to pick out the specifics to any given whisky’s nose but for the more casual whisky consumption, or if you’re working from home and love the smell of peat, why not light a couple of these and enjoy being transported to the peat banks of Islay or Orkney by the sweet aromas.

Number 4 - Open your bottles!

Ok ok ok. I get it. You’ve amassed these bottles at great expense over the years, you’ve waited in queues at Feis Ile open days and spent hours in front of the laptop screen as the annual limited edition releases of certain distilleries inevitably crash the system due to demand.

But what use is it in a sealed bottle eh? There are lots of debates, heated or otherwise, about ‘collecting versus consuming’ but we can all agree that drinking the stuff at one point or other is the goal, right?

Or just do what I and many others do and where possible buy two bottles, one for the cupboard and one for the bar.

Number 5 - Don’t be selfish, share the malt

Now’s the fun part, you get to show off your curated home whisky bar, associated glassware and accessories by hosting a great night of whisky tasting at your place.

Passionate about peat? Curious about Campbeltown? In awe of the Islands? Set a theme for your evening that sets the tone and creates natural conversation, maybe arm yourself with some facts, trivia and questions ahead of time so you can ensure the evening runs smoothly.

These evenings can be tricky for the host as there will be assumptions as to the quality and quantity of whisky on offer as those who come along will know you’re a bit of a connoisseur and have a few bottles knocking around so the advice would be to set a gentle rule right at the beginning that everyone brings a bottle with them.

This way, contrary to sounding anti-fun, everyone invests in an otherwise expensive evening of hosting and then once you’ve sampled the wares everyone brings over, you can whip out some additional drams as the evening progresses.

Ideally all the whiskies for each person would be poured before they arrive or at the very least before everyone sits down to start the evening. It makes it a lot less chaotic and facilitates simple comparisons between each whisky as you go along.

Don’t be pouring 50ml, 35ml or even 25ml measures, remember you will likely try five or so whiskies in a tasting and, unless you pair with food, this can be a lot for some people to take. Start small with 15ml pours as you can always go back for more of your favourites. This reduces wastage too.

Want to take it to the next level? You could always design your own tasting mats for whisky nights at yours. If you are to use your own tasting mats, ensure you leave space for notes to be written, enough ‘places’ on the mat for how many whiskies you will be sampling and details around the theme so that it feels like a well thought out home event.

There you have it, the five building blocks to a great in home whisky bar and cabinet as well as how to deliver a great evening showcasing your collection and your knowledge.

The post The five building blocks to creating a great in home whisky bar and cabinet and how to showcase it appeared first on GreatDrams.

from GreatDrams https://ift.tt/2sN3XMX Greg

#whisky #GreatDrams

2 notes · View notes

lightoftruth · 3 years

Link

The same folks to bring you "Abrahamism"—the idea that Judaism, Christianity, and Islam are intricately connected—have narrowed their sights on promoting Mary, the mother of Christ, as "a Jewish, Christian and Muslim woman," in the words of Catholic priest Fr. Gian Matteo of the Pontifical International Marian Academy. In a ten-week webinar series titled "Mary, a model for faith and life for Christianity and Islam," the academy will seek to present Mary as a bridge between the two religions.This may be easier said than done — at least for those still interested in facts. For starters, the claim that Mary was a "Jewish, Christian and Muslim woman" is only two-thirds true: yes, she was a Jew by race and background; and yes, she was a Christian in that she literally birthed Christ(ianity); but she was most certainly not a Muslim — a term and religion that came into being 600 years after Mary died.Worse, far from being the Eternal Virgin, as she is for 1.5 billion Christians of the Catholic and Orthodox variety, Islam presents Mary, the Mother of Christ, as "married" to and "copulating" with Muhammad in paradise — a depiction that would seem to sever rather than build "bridges."In a hadith that was deemed reliable enough to be included in the renowned Ibn Kathir's corpus, Muhammad declared that "Allah will wed me in paradise to Mary, Daughter of Imran," whom Muslims identify with Jesus's mother. (Note: The Arabic word for "marriage" (نكاح, or nikah) denotes "legal sexual relations," connotes the "F" word, and is wholly devoid of Western, "romantic," or Platonic connotations.)Nor is this just some random, obscure hadith. None other than Dr. Salem Abdul Galil — previously deputy minister of Egypt's religious endowments for preaching — affirmed its canonicity in 2017 during a live televised Arabic-language program. Among other biblical women (Moses's sister and Pharaoh's wife), "our prophet Muhammad — prayers and be upon him — will be married to Mary in paradise," Galil said.If few Christians today know about this Islamic claim, medieval Christians living in Muslim-occupied nations were certainly aware of it. There, Muslims regularly threw this fantasy in the face of Catholic and Orthodox Christians who venerated Mary as the "Eternal Virgin." Thus, Eulogius of Cordoba, an indigenous Christian of Muslim-occupied Spain, once wrote, "I will not repeat the sacrilege which that impure dog [Muhammad] dared proffer about the Blessed Virgin, Queen of the World, holy mother of our venerable Lord and Savior. He claimed that in the next world he would deflower her."As usual, it was Eulogius's offensive words about Muhammad — and not the latter's offensive words about Mary and any number of other things — that had dire consequences: he, as well as many other Spanish Christians vociferously critical of Muhammad, were found guilty of speaking against Islam and publicly tortured and executed in "Golden Age" Cordoba in 859.One expects that all of these "inconvenient" facts will be quietly passed over during the Pontifical International Marian Academy's webinars. And if they are raised, no doubt Christians will somehow take the blame, as almost always happens in academic settings. As one example, after quoting Eulogius's aforementioned lament against Muhammad's claim of being married to Mary, John V. Tolan, a professor and member of Academia Europaea, denounced it as an "outrageous claim" of Eulogius's own "invention." He then railed against the martyr — not against his murderers or their prophet:Eulogius fabricates lies designed to shock his Christian reader. This way, even those elements of Islam that resemble Christianity (such as reverence of Jesus and his virgin mother) are deformed and blackened, so as to prevent the Christian from admiring anything about the Muslim other. The goal is to inspire hatred for the "oppressors[.]" ... Eulogius sets out to show that the Muslim is not a friend but a potential rapist of Christ's virgins. (Saracens: Islam in the Medieval European Imagination, p.93)As already seen, however, it is Muhammad himself — not any "Christian polemicist" — who "fabricates lies designed to shock," namely that Mary will be his eternal concubine.This, incidentally, is the main problem the purveyors of Abrahamism fail to acknowledge: Islam does not treat biblical characters the way Christianity does.Christians accept the text of the Hebrew Bible, or Old Testament, as it is. They do not add, take away, or distort the accounts of the patriarchs that Jews also rely on. Conversely, while also relying on the figures of the Old and New Testaments — primarily for the weight of antiquity and authority attached to their names — Islam completely recasts them with different attributes that reaffirm Muhammad's religion as the one true and final "revelation," as opposed to Judaism and Christianity, whose biblical accounts on these figures are then seen as "distorted" because they are different from Islam's later revisions.Far from creating "commonalities," it should be clear that such appropriation creates conflict. By way of analogy, imagine that you have a grandfather whom you are particularly fond of, and out of the blue, a stranger who never even met your grandfather says: "Hey, that's my grandfather!" Then — lest you think this stranger is somehow trying to become your friend — he adds: "And everything you thought you knew about grandpa is wrong! Only I have his true life story."Would that create a "bridge" between you and this stranger who is trying to appropriate and recast the image of your grandfather?

It is common knowledge that the genealogies contained in Matthew and Luke differ. Most conservative Bible commentators explain the difference by holding that Jesus’ genealogy in Matthew 1:1–16 is traced through Joseph’s line to show Jesus’ royal right to the Davidic throne; correspondingly, the genealogy in Luke 3:23–38 traces Jesus’ ancestry through Mary’s line. This means that Mary’s lineage is recorded in the Gospel of Luke. Mary’s lineage, as recorded by Luke, does not mention Mary, but that’s to be expected—including women’s names in genealogies was not standard practice. It begins this way: “[Jesus] was the son, so it was thought, of Joseph, the son of Heli” (Luke 3:23). This comment affirms the truth of Jesus’ virgin birth (see Luke 1:29–38). Joseph was a “son” of Heli by virtue of his marriage to Mary, who would have been the daughter of Heli (Matthew 1:16 lists Joseph’s biological father as Jacob). Some notable points in Mary’s lineage are that she was a descendant of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (Luke 3:34); she was specifically of the tribe of Judah (verse 33). She was also a descendant of Boaz (verse 32) and David (verse 31). Significantly, Luke traces Mary’s lineage all the way back to Adam (verse 38). This fits with Luke’s purpose as he wrote to Gentiles and emphasized that Jesus is the Son of God who came to save all people (cf. Luke 2:10–11). Another issue relating to Mary’s lineage is her relation to Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist. Luke says that Mary was related to Elizabeth, who was in the tribe of Levi (Luke 1:5, 36). An argument sometimes put forward by those who deny the credentials of Christ is that, if Mary was Elizabeth’s “cousin,” then Mary must also have been a Levite. Some translations, such as the KJV, do state that Mary was the “cousin” of Elizabeth (Luke 1:36). However, the English word cousin does not have to imply a close relation, and other versions of the Bible translate the word as “relative” (NKJV, ESV, CSB, BSB). Even if Elizabeth and Mary were close relatives, it was still possible for them to be of different tribes, as women were identified with their father’s tribe, not their mother’s. Elizabeth’s father was a Levite, making her a Levite by birth, but her mother may have been of Judah. Conversely, Mary’s mother may have been a Levite and kin to Elizabeth’s family, while Mary’s father was of Judah. Luke’s genealogy shows that Heli, whom we assume to be Mary’s father, was a direct descendant of Judah, not Levi. In addition, the angel Gabriel affirmed Jesus’ Judean lineage, telling Mary that “he will be very great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David” (Luke 1:32, NLT). David was of the tribe of Judah. Regardless of Mary’s specific lineage, that Jesus is a descendant of David and Judah is beyond doubt. Other Bible verses also point to the fact of Judah being the tribe of Jesus’ heritage, as the rightful Messiah and Savior of all (Hebrews 7:14; Revelation 5:5).

0 notes

frankkjonestx · 4 years

Text

What data do cities like Orlando need to prepare for climate migrants?

Hurricane Maria roared across Puerto Rico in late September 2017. The storm caused an estimated $90 billion in damage, demolished the power grid (SN: 2/15/20, p. 22) and left more than half of the island’s residents without safe drinking water.

Dachiramarie Vila recalls the smell of gasoline from generators choking the air.

“The smell was everywhere,” says Vila, a 33-year-old mother of two, through a translator. “We felt that we were breathing all those gases night and day.”

The storm flattened Vila’s wooden home, forcing her family to move to her parents’ house, which was also damaged. Then Vila’s 13-year-old son began peeing blood, she says, probably from drinking contaminated water. There was little medical assistance available.

Desperate for help, Vila’s mother, Maritza Garcia Vila, traveled high into the mountains in search of a working cell phone tower because the storm had knocked out 95 percent of the island’s towers. From there, she called Ana Cruz.

Cruz is the coordinator of the Hispanic Office for Local Assistance, or HOLA, part of the city government of Orlando, Fla. HOLA has helped new arrivals to the city find jobs, housing and health care since 2004.

But by the end of 2017, HOLA and Orlando faced a daunting task. Hurricane Irma had inundated many of Florida’s coastal cities in early September, and two weeks later, Maria hit Puerto Rico. Those two storms sent as many as 250,000 evacuees, including Vila and her family, into Florida’s narrow interior.

“We were caught off guard,” says Chris Castro, a senior adviser to Orlando Mayor Buddy Dyer. That 2017 wave of climate migrants gave city managers a glimpse into a future for which they need to prepare.

Dachiramarie Vila (center), her two children (shown), her husband and extended family left Puerto Rico in 2017 for Orlando, Fla., in the aftermath of Hurricane Maria. D. Vila

Orlando is now gearing up to become a destination for future climate migrations, Castro says. “No local government, to my knowledge, is prepared … to deal with the flux of environmental migrants and climate refugees,” he adds. “It’s now very much part of our thought process.”

By 2050, scientists estimate, climate stressors — including hurricanes, wildfires, drought, extreme heat and flooding from rising seas — could compel between 25 million and 1 billion people around the world to leave their homes and jobs behind, some temporarily, some for good.

For Orlando and other potential destination cities, preparing for those influxes of people, while also bracing for the local impacts of climate change, is a multifaceted challenge. As a starting point, the cities need data, some sense of how many people might arrive. But one of the biggest hitches in planning for the future is that so little is known about where and when people will choose to migrate.

Scientists have devised ways to track and even anticipate modern-day human resettlements, as people move for economic reasons like jobs or for family reasons. There is also a growing body of research based on past migrations spurred by extreme climate events: the treks across the United States during the Dust Bowl era of the 1930s, for example, or the rush to Orlando following Hurricane Maria, or to Houston in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, which devastated New Orleans and much of the Gulf Coast in 2005.

But when it comes to projecting such movements into the future, as climate change rapidly transforms landscapes on a never-before-seen scale, “I don’t think we know that much at the moment,” says Amir Jina, an environmental economist at the University of Chicago. “It’s hard to think of what’s going to happen with long-term [climate] change.”

Becoming a safe haven

As newcomers poured into Orlando in October 2017, HOLA set up a welcome station at the city’s airport at Dyer’s behest. Among the first to arrive were Vila and 10 family members — her husband and two children, mother and father, younger brother and pregnant sister with her husband and two children.

Leaving Puerto Rico “was very, very, very hard,” Vila says. The family left with only a few suitcases. “We were desperate, with nothing.”

Vila’s mother headed straight to the HOLA table. “When her mother arrived, she started crying,” recalls Cruz, who served as the translator during my conversations with Vila. “I told her to relax, that she was going to be fine.”

Orlando is home to about 280,000 residents, plus many more temporary guests. Each year, some 50 million travelers pass through the city’s airport, the busiest in the Sunshine State. Six-lane highways crisscross to speed tourists to Walt Disney World, Universal Studios, Sea World and other nearby theme parks.

In October 2017, Ana Cruz (left) of Orlando’s Hispanic Office for Local Assistance greeted Puerto Ricans fleeing Hurricane Maria’s destruction.HOLA

But nothing like the 2017 rush of climate refugees had happened there before. Orlando and neighboring cities in central Florida groaned under the weight of so many new people in such a short time. The city’s massive tourism industry turned out to be a silver lining, Castro says, with jobs and housing available, at least for the short term, in the region’s many hotels. In a two-week period after Maria, every hotel room in the area was full.

City and emergency managers scrambled to find longer-term affordable housing, transportation, health care and other social services for the new residents. Teachers had to be hired, especially those who speak Spanish. An assistance center to help newcomers from hurricane-ravaged regions also opened in Kissimmee, half an hour’s drive south.

Today, two and a half years later, perhaps a tenth of the estimated 250,000 climate migrants remain, Castro says. The rest returned to their homes in Puerto Rico, or sought some other safe haven.

But for Castro and other city managers in Orlando, the experience was transformative.

In 2019, the city kicked off an array of projects and partnerships to improve its resilience and plan for future climate migration booms. Among its partners is the East Central Florida Regional Planning Council, which represents eight counties, including Orlando’s Orange County. Jenifer Rupert, in charge of the council’s resilience efforts, says that Maria was a wake-up call for her organization, too. “I thought … we really need to get better at the way we’re handling this.”

In addition to hurricane-related migrations, Rupert says, the council is concerned about waves of migrations as sea levels continue to rise. “What are we going to do when the state of Florida starts losing coastline, and people from Miami come up here?” Rupert asks. “What are we really putting in place now to start managing those types of numbers?”

Willer Vélez (shown), part of the wave of Puerto Rican residents into Florida, opened Willer’s Supermarket in Kissimmee in December 2017.GDA/AP Images

Deciding on a destination

One might expect U.S. climate migrants to choose “climate beneficial” locations — cool, temperate places, such as Minneapolis or Seattle, rather than Florida or Texas, says Jina, the Chicago economist. “It seems counterintuitive: Instead of moving to more resilient cities, they’re moving to a city that can only really be livable in the future if you can afford air conditioning.”

But other factors tend to weigh more heavily in migration decisions: available jobs, health care, family and community, says Mathew Hauer, a sociologist at Florida State University in Tallahassee. “Most migration tends to be short-distance, for economic and social reasons, like a better-paying job.”

Moving on

A 2017 study projected 10 U.S. regions as the most likely destinations for people fleeing sea level rise by 2100. The top three areas could each see population booms of more than 250,000.

Austin-Round Rock, Texas

Orlando-Kissimmee-Sanford, Fla.

Atlanta-Sandy Springs-Roswell, Ga.

Houston-The Woodlands-Sugar Land, Texas

Dallas-Fort Worth-Arlington, Texas

Washington-Arlington-Alexandria, D.C.-Va.-Md.-W.Va.

Baton Rouge, La.

Charlotte-Concord-Gastonia, N.C.-S.C.

Philadelphia-Camden-Wilmington, Pa.-N.J.-Del.-Md.

Las Vegas-Henderson-Paradise, Nev.

Source: M. Hauer/Nature Climate Change 2017

Take Orlando. It’s located in a state that is squarely in the path of rising seas and has seen record-breaking heat in the last year. But Orlando satisfies many of the other needs of possible climate migrants, at least in the short term. It is in the center of the state, far enough from the worst effects of possible storm surges and sunny-day flooding due to rising sea levels. It has jobs. And it has made an effort to be welcoming to migrants.

Taking a holistic look at what drives migration is known as “migration systems theory.” Using that approach, in a study reported in 2017 in Nature Climate Change, Hauer identified 10 likely “climate destination” regions in the United States for the estimated 13.1 million people within the country who are expected to be displaced by rising sea levels by 2100. Based on his simulations, the top destinations include Austin, Orlando and Atlanta.

Hauer’s study was the first to attempt to anticipate destination regions for U.S. climate migrants. He tracked large-scale, county-to-county migrations of people from 1990 to 2013 using annual tax data from the IRS. Then, based on observed patterns, which reveal residents’ past choices, he projected where people are likely to go in the future.

Economists have used similar factors to create econometric models to forecast changes in populations. Such simulations can help local governments assess the need for everything from additional housing and transportation to shifting school district boundaries.

That approach has been around for a long time, and when it comes to simulating climate-related migrations, “it works to a certain extent,” says Vivek Shandas, an urban planning researcher at Portland State University in Oregon. But more accurate simulations of widespread climate migration should consider one more dimension of the decision-making process, he says: how people might decide when it’s time to leave.

Making the call

That decision will likely be different depending on the type of climate trigger, Shandas says. A growing field of research called event ecology uses computer models to anticipate how an extreme event, such as a hurricane, might ripple through a community, altering population numbers and infrastructure. Those kinds of events — sudden, short-term and extreme, such as Katrina in 2005 — are called “pulse events.”

Migrations spurred by pulse events are fairly easy to simulate. There’s one point of origin, and scientists can make knowledgeable guesses about where people might go from that point of origin based on proximity to other cities, family connections and job availability. Pulse event migrations also tend to occur shortly after the triggering event.

But ongoing climate change can boost the frequency of pulse events. For example, climate change is increasing the risk of deadly and destructive wildfires, such as those that struck California in 2017, 2018 and 2019. Each event may trigger some migration, but over time those who stayed behind may also begin to wonder whether they, too, should move to a safer haven.

Such slower, longer-term manifestations of climate change, or “press events,” can be more challenging when it comes to anticipating both when and where people may choose to move. Rising sea levels are the textbook example of a press event (SN: 2/29/20, p. 18). And it’s with these events that people’s different risk tolerances most come into play.

“There are different thresholds that people are willing to put up with,” Hauer says. “For some, [that threshold comes] much sooner than when there’s water at the doorstep.” Many people will face the dire choice between individual migration, community-based movement away from the risk, known as “managed retreat,” or even deciding to find ways to stay in place.

There’s no template for what will happen in response to widespread sea level rise, which will affect many different places at once. “We haven’t yet lived in a world with high tide flooding multiple days a month,” Jina says. “It will change housing prices, as well as whether or not people reinforce coasts.”

Hauer notes that his destination city study, published in April 2017, came just a few months before Hurricane Harvey poured torrents of rain onto southeastern Texas, including Houston. Does that event push Houston off the future destinations list? Not necessarily, he says. Post-Harvey resilience efforts in Houston can alter the calculus.

And there are many other lingering unknowns when it comes to assessing people’s decisions. “We know very little about how different age groups would respond to different stimuli,” Hauer says. “Or how different climate impacts will interact with each other, [such as] how migration to Atlanta might affect migration to Miami.”

Seeking urban resilience in Orlando

Despite these challenges, climate migration is “something that we have to face,” says Yue “Gurt” Ge, an expert in risk and resilience management at the University of Central Florida in Orlando. Finding some way to assess the scale of the issue will be essential to creating climate adaptation strategies for his city, he says.

It’s 3 p.m. in late February 2020, and the university’s new Urban Resilience team is holding its second meeting in a brand-new, glossy high-rise in downtown Orlando. This interdisciplinary team is the brainchild of Ge and emergency management expert Naim Kapucu, head of the university’s school of public administration.

Ge, a slight, energetic man, eagerly ushers a group of about a dozen waiting scientists into the conference room, where they sit at long white tables and introduce themselves. Half a dozen more people are Skyping in. It’s a diverse group, with expertise in everything from artificial intelligence to wine. Resilience, reducing the impact of disasters, is the common link.

Ge is anxious to build connections within the team. Periodically, he steps in, noting how each person is connected to the larger effort. Interdisciplinary teams have insights, he says. Perhaps as important, they get funding. He says he hopes to identify research projects for the team, as well as build partnerships to better implement best practices.

First on the table might be developing a formal, research-driven way to count climate migrations to Orlando — a necessary ingredient for any city’s resilience plan. “We can contribute by proposing scientific studies, surveys, focus groups with climate refugees,” Ge says. The airport, local community organizations and shelters could be helpful in providing data. HOLA, he says, is a valuable ally in this effort as well. “When they accommodate or house these people, then they do have some numbers to tell us.”

Finding good data to track migration remains a challenge. The IRS changed the way it records tax data in 2017, unfortunately “breaking” the time series that Hauer had previously used, he says. Those data also are collected annually, giving only a long-term picture of migrations. That’s also true of, for example, data on state-to-state migrations and changes to the workforce collected by the U.S. Census Bureau.

For one measure of short-term movement, the Center for Puerto Rican Studies at Hunter College at the City University of New York used student enrollment data from state departments of education to show that many Florida counties saw a rise in Puerto Rican enrollees between December 2017 and February 2018, months after the hurricane. Overall, Florida saw a 12 percent increase, to 11,554 students from Puerto Rico enrolled in schools. Other states that saw rises included New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Massachusetts.

Landing pads

Based on school enrollment data from the state department of education, Florida’s Orange County, home to Orlando (white star), took in the most students from Puerto Rico in early 2018, after Hurricane Maria. The top six counties are shown.

C. Chang

1. Orange: 3,285 2. Osceola: 1,619 3. Miami-Dade: 911 4. Polk: 854 5. Hillsborough: 766 6. Broward: 735

Source: Center for Puerto Rican Studies/Hunter College 2018

Social media, including Facebook and Twitter, may also be useful for tracking large-scale migrations due to climate events that occur on short timescales. Yago Martín, who studies urban resilience at UCF, and colleagues devised a way to use geotagged tweets to identify and track movements of over a thousand Puerto Rican residents in Maria’s aftermath. The methodology holds promise for tracking future migrations, the team reported in February in Population and Environment.

The good news is that large research institutions are beginning to recognize the need to fund climate migration research, says UCF sociologist Fernando Rivera, who heads the university’s Puerto Rico Research Hub. He is gearing up to embark on a National Academy of Sciences–funded analysis of past and present climate migrations, focusing on changes in housing markets, financial services, health care, employment and economic development in the communities where migrants end up.

The study zooms in on three migration events: from Puerto Rico to Orlando in 2017; New Orleans to Houston in 2005 following Hurricane Katrina; and the pending resettlement of the few dozen residents of Isle de Jean Charles, one of Louisiana’s coastal islands about to be drowned by rising seas. The goal, Rivera says, is to try to determine lessons for future destination communities, such as Orlando.

New home

Vila and her 10 family members moved together from hotel room to hotel room for several weeks after arriving in Orlando, unable to find permanent housing. Although they were able, barely, to afford the costs of this lifestyle, other Puerto Rican migrants were not so lucky. Monthly allowances for temporary housing provided by the U.S. Federal Emergency Management Agency to Maria evacuees dried up after about a year for many families.

Eventually, most of Vila’s family returned to Puerto Rico. But she and her husband and their children stayed, deciding that the quality of life for their children would ultimately be better on the mainland. She and her husband found jobs: Her husband works in maintenance at their apartment complex. Vila worked at Disney World as a hostess until the parks closed due to social distancing restrictions from the COVID-19 pandemic. She recently completed coursework to become a medical assistant, graduating with high grades.

It’s modest success, but Vila says she doesn’t feel quite at home. Still, she says she has no plans to leave. For one thing, her son is now doing very well. And life, she adds, is “peaceful.”

Dreams of Buffalo

In 2017, climate scientist Stephen Vermette of Buffalo State College in New York analyzed recent climate trends for the western part of the state to help the region begin its own resilience planning. Using data going back to 1965, he looked for trends in heat waves, warmer summers, precipitation and other possible signs of climate change.

To his surprise, Vermette says, none of those signs appeared in his analysis. In the future, western New York may “fare better than other parts of the country.” He suspects that this is due to the nearby Great Lakes, which may exert a cooling effect on the region during future summers.

He hasn’t been able to simulate future lake effects on the region’s climate, but his findings drew media attention. Local and national press touted the possibility that Buffalo could become a climate refuge. In particular, Buffalo and other cities that are less affected by, for example, rising seas, may become particularly attractive to businesses that are looking for a stable place to thrive far into the future.

“Investors or the high-tech industry, versus people who just need to get out of the way of a hurricane — those are very different scenarios,” says urban planning researcher Vivek Shandas of Portland State University in Oregon. “I’ve had investment bankers say to me, ‘Santa Barbara is burning, Martha’s Vineyard is going underwater … where do I invest money right now?’ ”

Vermette says that he hopes Buffalo city officials will embrace the idea of a climate refuge future. “Buffalo could position itself to take advantage of its situation,” he says.

from Tips By Frank https://www.sciencenews.org/article/climate-change-migrants-destination-cities-data-orlando

0 notes