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uselesssomebody · 4 months

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𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤 - joel miller x reader

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

words || 𝟚.𝟜𝕜

summary || in which the reader and ellie try to make joek the perfect christmas

a/n || i got the christmas fic out kinda on time?? i'm so shocked

➵ i will find it in myself to be consistent at some point. not yet tho. anyways this week has been hell so i'm happy i wrote something. this is not a 100% practical apocalypse christmas, but we work with what we have

➵ if you don't celebrate christmas or this fic is not for you, i'm working on a moon knight winter themed work to be posted before/at new years (with hopefully some hanukkah mentions!!) so if that interests you stay tuned!

➵ merry christmas if you celebrate! i hope you guys have had a nice ass extended weekend or are holidaying somewhere fun

➵ not edited (yet)

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff

joel had been everywhere since the outbreak started. quarantine zones in boston, traveling across the midwest, once being carted off all the way to montana.

that didn’t change the fact that home was 2003 austin, texas. the last time his heart didn’t always race, the last place he didn’t have to sleep with one eye open. the last place he called home.

but dammit, if jackson wasn’t coming close. and why wouldn’t it? tommy was here, and ellie was - too. his heart didn’t beat like he’d just run a marathon - or from a group of raiders or stalkers. his sleep came naturally here - the bags under his eyes had began reducing. the restless nights didn’t come from flashbacks, or nightmares anymore, but rather, the woman sleeping next to him.

she always knocked out like a light after they were done, curling into the human furnace he essentially was, head finding its familiar place on the left side of his chest, his broad palm wrapped around her shoulder - pulling her closer. he didn’t mind - he got his nightly eyeful of her beauty: the peaceful expression on her face, the way her lips slightly parted as she puffed out air, the way a loose strand of hair might reach down to tickle her nose or her cheek, causing her to twitch in discomfort until he would push the offending strand back into place.

he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head - a softness he never exhibited to anyone but his two girls - much to tommy’s chagrin. he smiles softly, lips curling as he remembers the events of the day. breakfast at the cantina, helping her help with some of the crops that the settlement was growing for self-sustenance, the both of them taking ellie to a friend’s house, enjoying lunch with her - a moment alone from the excitable teenager - before he left for his nightly patrolling duty, only to return to her and ellie a few hours later.

a peaceful day. with the both of them.

he glances over at the large window shining the moon’s dim light into the room. it’s snowing, the white flakes reflecting the moonlight to create a glittery night sky, having already stacked onto the outdoor windowsill.

that was one of the things that reminded him that this wasn’t austin. the *snow*. piling high on the roofs, a bitch to clear in the front of the little house the three of them shared - a chore she always managed to convince him to do. it wasn’t exactly a tough bargain: a small kiss to his lips, and a ‘pretty please?’, and - much to the amusement of ellie - he’d be out of the door with the shovel in an instant. joel liked the snow - it was, in many ways, aesthetically pleasing, if not a little inconvenient.

and - well, a white christmas, right? who would he be to deny that beauty, especially for his favorite holiday of the year - back when things were normal. while tommy and him traveled together, though, he’d still offer an extra ration of food, reciprocated by a medkit or a bandage on tommy’s end. when he and tess were still together, they’d exchange guns. joel always got the short end of the stick - sometimes literally, once earning a pistol is exchange for a rifle. didn’t matter, though. tess was ecstatic, and it’s not like the two didn’t share.

that was one thing he was real excited for since bringing ellie here - getting her something she’d really want for christmas. and the same for her, laying next to him. using an elaborate network of spies (see: tommy and maria), he had discreetly collected the information as to what would interest them both.

for ellie, 3 new editions of savage starlight, the joel had managed to find when he’d been assigned on runs away from the perimeter of the settlement. and for her, a cassette player, that he had tinkered with to get to work again. it had some of her favorite songs - the ones she’d heard from others after the outbreak, or the ones she’d remembered from before, and it had taken hours of looking around abandoned cars for the cassette tapes. he hoped to add to her collection for the new year, and to catch her able to actually listen to the songs she likes to hum to much in the shower, or around the house.

the only problem was… well, the atmosphere. it was a white christmas, sure, but the distinct reds and greens were missing from the town. there was a christmas tree up in the hall, but little else specifically regarding christmas, to his disappointment. maria’s explanation was to allow space for every winter celebration to breath. there was hanukkah candles around the settlement’s common areas, adding a distinct beauty in the flickering lights of the flames. similarly, kwanzaa candles were up anywhere that diwali’s clay lamps had been previously. the settlement had so many groups, that joel was sure that he missed other decorating items. and he didn’t mind a bit of it.

but he’d been so busy with everything, that he hadn’t had time to nurture the spirit of christmas that he enjoyed so much, even privately. he would have liked to wake up to a decorated tree, a flurry of red and green around the living room, but it was already christmas eve. and after the excitable day he’d had - now in the company of his love, and ellie just down the corridor, he figured he didn’t mind all too much.

he was home.

he was asleep. finally.

she sighs in relief, finally squeezing out of his snuggle. regardless of his years on the road, he was always a heavy sleeper - even more nowadays, with less apparent threats. thank god for her.

she’d had to pretend to be asleep a lot longer than she thought she’d have to, him obviously having a contemplative night before deciding to fall asleep, but she’s grateful it’s finally happened. sneaking out of the room, avoiding the floorboards she’d memorized as the creaky ones, she shuts the door with the smallest clack - but even that makes her wince. stilling for a moment to ensure joel hasn’t woken, she looks down the hall at ellie, who is similarly traversing the floor with caution.

“he asleep?” ellie asks, and she affirms with a grin.

“out like a light.” ellie gives her a thumbs up, before they both make their way to the back door - which was perfectly larger than the front door. outside, tommy stands, looking bored out of his mind.

“jesus. what the hell took you guys so long?” he grumbles, which makes ellie giggle, muffling it behind her palm.

“he kept thinking, oh, you know how he is, tommy.” she brushes off his annoyance with a little smile, and he shrugs.

“yes, ma’am.” he salutes playfully.

“did you get it?” ellie asks excitably, and he nods, reaching around to the side of the house to procure the spruce tree - a net tied around it to ensure the branches wouldn’t hit anything. it’s about a foot taller than tommy, and it’s just perfect for the house. “c’mon, c’mon!” ellie insists in a hushed whisper, and the two of them help him with bringing the tree discreetly inside.

once it’s neatly in, tommy drops off his wrapped gift for joel, having already dropped off in the evening his and maria’s gift of the best christmas cookies - well, any cookies - ellie and her had ever eaten, and bids the two girls farewell. when the house is silent again, she looks at ellie.

“wanna do the tree, or the other stuff?” to no surprise to her, ellie’s response is immediate.

“tree."

after a half-hour of decorating and filling the living room with some semblance of christmas joy, she hoists ellie up as much as she can so the teen can place a makeshift, glittering star on the top of the tree. adorned in reds and greens, the living room looked perhaps more woodsy than like a shop display - due to the lack of a perfect tinsel replica - but the glitter and foil would have to as viable substitutes.

exhausted, the both of them sneak another one of tommy and maria’s cookies, before ellie places three gifts for joel under the tree - from the two girls and tommy - while she looks in joel’s not-so-hidden hiding spot, for all his goods he didn’t want her or ellie finding. she’d found it almost immediately after its creating though, and knew joel was hiding their gifts in there. though, as they were wrapped, they still remained a mystery to her as she placed them under the tree.

the fruitful effort ends with a hug goodnight, before ellie wanders into her room to pass out, and she sneaks back into her and joel’s room, seeing him still in deep sleep - even snoring a little.

with a big, fat beam on her face, she curls back up next to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and whispering,

“merry christmas, joel.”

the next morning, joel awakens to an agitated ellie tapping her foot on the floor, sitting at the foot of the bed, reading a book as she waited for him to awaken.

“oh, finally.” she sighs in relief, helping him sit up, as he wiped his eyes groggily, “c’mon, she’s making pancakes!” pancakes for breakfast was reserved for special days, and today was very special. with a half-smile, joel gets to his feet, grabbing and pulling ellie into his side my her shoulders, and hugging her tightly, ruffling her hair.

“merry christmas, ellie.”

“merry christmas, joel!” she chirps back, very animatedly.

too animatedly.

joel’s eyes nearly bug out when they reach the living room, where this morning’s chef is standing, a big grin on her face.

“surprise!” she and ellie say in unison, as his eyes dart around to take in the christmas colors, the stockings, the - oh, the tree!

the little kid inside him was practically jumping for joy at the ornate tree that rose above a smattering of presents on the ground.

she joins him and ellie, taking his other hand.

“like it?”

“like it? baby, i love it.” he kisses her cheek, holding the kiss, trying to convey how meaningful this was to him, and ellie playfully prods his side, pretending to cringe. in response, he lets out a big, hearty laugh - one of few - and ruffles her hair, squeezing her tighter. both, his silent thank you’s.

after a big breakfast of pancakes, they settle into the couch, gifts surrounding them.

ellie goes first. she unwraps joel’s present to her - the new editions of the comic. she blows her lid in excitement, hugging him tightly, before beginning to wander off as she examines the comic, making the two adults laugh as they playfully beg her to come back.

then she goes. the bulky gift makes her curious, but, as the unwraps it, seeing the cassette tape, her eyes widen in shock, “baby, how on earth…?” her brows furrow as she internalizes the effort it must have taken him to collect all those songs. the looks she gives joel is nothing short of adoration, and that made every minute of the hunt worth it.

finally, it’s joel. tommy’s gift first, and it sloshes when he jiggles it. unwrapped, it’s a familiar label and liquid: a jack daniel’s old number 7, his go-to before the outbreak. surprised his little brother remembered, he grins lightly as he places the bottle beside him, looking forward to enjoying it. from her, he opens the gift to find a meticulously crafted, sewn and polished knife holster, “because i mentioned how old mine was?” he asks her softly, and she nods, with a sheepish smile, “i love it.” he affirms, tracing the edges, “my baby’s good at everything then?” he teases, and she giggles - much to ellie’s distaste.

“open mine, joel!” she insists, placing her smaller box in his arms.

“hold on, ellie.” he laughs, taking the wrapping off meticulously. it’s an unassuming box, and, looking inside, his face sobers a little.

it’s a watch. with a brown band, and a white dial - more importantly it works. immediately, ellie’s face falls.

“you don’t like it? i thought… you know, your watch doesn’t work, so-”

joel sighs, shaking his head as he pulls ellie to him to calm her.

“no, no - it’s not that.” he assures, throat constricting as he experiences a heartbreaking deja vu.

they don’t know.

after a moment of silence, joel smiles.

“i think it’s great, ellie. i really like it, damn well needed a watch too - tommy always keeps me an hour and a half instead of an hour on our patrols, and i can never prove it. now i can.” he tried to diffuse the tension with a small joke, but ellie still looks a little concerned. she does too.

joel immediately puts the watch on, but on his other wrist, leaving sarah’s watch untouched. “there.” he hums, examining the watch on his wrists.

“matches your boots,” she comments, and ellie lights up a bit.

“i did that on purpose.” joel smiles up at her.

“well thank you, ms. fashionista.” he teases, “now i don’t got an excuse to be late for dinner, huh?”

the two other finally crack, giggling a little.

“so you always know you’re late for dinner?” ellie teases, and he laughs.

“gotta give you two time to scheme alone, hmm?” he counters, “where would all these decorations have come from if y’all didn’t have a couple minutes alone at the table.” he teases.

“well, now, since you won’t be late, all three of us will scheme.”

“against tommy.” joel adds, and ellie laughs.

after a few more jokes, ellie goes to wear out her new comics, and the other two remain on the couch. lazily wrapping an arm around his neck, she hums.

“happy?”

“ecstatic.” he assures, with a content smile. she traces the new watch on his wrist - ellie’s.

“makes you look cool. like you’re a very busy man.”

“you say it like i’m not.” he jokes back, and she smiles.

“you’ve got enough time for us.” she counters, and he leans back, pulling her flush to him as he kisses her lips softly.

“you two are the only things i got time for.” he corrects. her cheeks heat.

“merry christmas, joel.”

“merry christmas.”

#joel miller #joel miller oneshot #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #the last of us #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #merry christmas

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hwrryscherry · 3 years

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HARRY x MODEL Y/N facts part.1

HARRYxMODELY/N masterlist is here.

Credits: The middle manip on this edit picture (the one with Harry’s yellow suit) was made by the beautiful @/94sbells.

Author’s note: HEY GUYS! I know that I’ve been kinda gone lately, but I have reasons for that. My summer vacation ended, and I had to go back to school. We’re still studying online, but I had to take a diagnostic test this past week so they’d know how’s my scholarity level. So, because of all the studying and trying to keep up on a new school (yes, I moved from schools.), I didn’t have any time to write or finish my writings. I’ll try finishing a request today because I’m feeling super creative and nostalgic BUT to everyone who follows HARRYxMODELY/N series, like it and miss it, I just did this ‘’facts-timeline’’ in a hope to feed you guys lol. Anyway, this is like a time line of 2017 and how their relationship developed on that year. I plan on doing one for each year till 2020 and post it on the break between posting the requests. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and maybe discover things about them that you didn’t know yet. Love you all and thank you for the support and love! TPWK and remember that you’re so golden.

The first ever communication between them was on May 12th, 2017(Model Y’N’s 20th birthday) AND the realesing of HS1 album.

She sent a DM to him on instagram congratulating him by saying she loved the album and wished him all the success.

No, they didn’t know each other and she honestly thought that he’d never answer to her.

After a few hours, Harry answered to her message and she freaked out but never answered back because she didn’t want to bother him.

They officialy met on November 28th, 2017 when Harry performed on Victoria Secrets Fashion Show that occured in Shanghai, China.

It was the first time that Model Y/N ever walked for Victoria Secrets.

She walked the Goddesses segment while Harry sang ‘’Only Angel’’.

Harry literally got on his knees when she walked past him.

He likes to describe his emotion at that moment as “mesmerized”.

Even though she knew that VS models and the singers are supposed to flirt a little on stage to create a teasing sensation, she was so surprised by his actions.

After the show was done, Harry wasn’t going to attend the VS after party but decided to attend last minute because he wanted to know her.

He approached her very calmly and gentle and invited her to ‘’hang out’’ with him and his band through Shanghai as he was going to leave on the next day to complete his tour.

She asked Bella to go with her because she didn’t want to hang out with him and his bandmates alone as they didn’t know each other.

But she did felt a huge connection between them almost immidiately.

Through Shanghai, Harry was hitting on her the ENTIRE time! He was complimenting, being super nice, and flirting as well but she honestly thought he was just being nice.

Harry thought for a while that she was playing it hard to get until he realized that she wasn’t.

They spent the whole night going through Shanghai.

They went to Nanjing Road and walked around seeing the lights.

They bought those film cameras and took the funniest pictures ever. They still have those films but never digitalized it to the computer.

They went to all those mini bars and had a few drinks while eating chinese food.

Btw, Harry and Model Y/N LOVE chinese food.

They were on the same hotel.

They didn’t go back yet but plan to do so when quarantine is over.

When it was about 8am, they came back to their hotel.

They both agreed that they would come back to Shanghai one day to go to disneyland.

So Harry went back to his tour and Model Y/N went back to NYC.

On the night out in Shanghai they exchanged numbers because Bella Hadid(Model Y/N’s bff)noticed that Harry was interested on Model Y/N, so she casually told them that they should get each other’s number.

The media was crazy about them. First it was the VS move and then there was tons of paps photos of them out in Shanghai.

The media was trying to sell the story as if they were already dating before the VS, which wasn’t true.

They talked for months as friends because of the number exchange.

They talked via texts, calls and face time all the time but it wasn’t anything more than friendship to her.

Model Y/N and some friends of her was planning on traveling to Ibiza, Spain to celebrate New Year’s Eve and as she and Harry were getting really close to each other she invited him and told him that he could take whoever he wanted.

Of course she thought he was cute and had a small crush but nothing extreme.

Harry did invited her for some of his shows but she couldn’t attend any of it.

That made Harry think that she didn’t like him.

She thought he was going to take a girlfriend.

Harry took Gemma and her boyfriend to the trip with him.

Yes, their whole group of friends were there as well but midia acted like there was only them in it.

They were in Ibiza from December 28th, 2017 to January 3rd, 2018.

The group of friends that was in Ibiza with them included Bella Hadid, Fai Khadra, Imaan Hammam, Grace Elizabeth, Gemma Styles, Machine Gun Kelly, Model Y/N’s brother, etc.

And yes, there were TONS of paps in Ibiza following them because the media was selling the whole ‘’Harry Styles’s new girlfriend’s thing.“

Harry is super private about relationships and Model Y/N had ended a serious relationship early that year so they just didn’t address any rumors because they didn’t care about what the media said.

They “saw” each other as friends and that was what mattered.

It was probably the most random group of friends that she ever traveled with, but it was fun on the same way.

They had a really cool and funny vibe, and it was really easy to everyone to get along.

When fans noticed that Y/N’s friends were following Harry on social media they really thought all the rumors were real.

Their house was really close to the beach, so you could actually see it by Harry’s bedroom barricade.

They usually went to the beach or stayed by the pool during the day and went out at night.

Honestly, they used to come home from the nightlife of Ibiza at 3/4am.

They’d wake up after noon for sure.

Harry wouldn’t eat his breakfast until Model Y/N’s woken up.

He’d cook an avocado toast sandwich to her every morning and wait for her to wake up.

He’d do it because on one of their late night talks, she had told him that she loved it so much.

They’d eat at the barricade while watching the beach.

Model Y/N HAD always been obsessed with Harry’s hair and she’d tell him that he needed to moisturize his hair as they were under the sun all the time.

It was just an excuse to touch his hair.

So they’d exchange it. She’d put oil on his hair, and he’d put on hers.

If they had to go to the beach, Harry would convince her to do the craziest things like fly board flying, going on jetskis together and those things.

He was the only one to convince her to do it because she is TERRIFIED of swimming in the ocean.

They’d all go out for lunch on some restaurants and after going shopping before the sunset.

Harry would always come to her saying like “oh, this would look good in you” whenever he saw a piece of cloth that he liked.

Some fans would post pics of them on social media only making the rumors go hard.

Then one fan would post that met up with them and they said they’re just friends, which was true at that time.

Back at the house, they’d get ready to enjoy the Ibiza nightlife.

They’d dress a little better and go out to some bar or club.

Do you know those videos of Harry dancing in Anguilla? It would be the same vibe. Harry and Model Y/N would vibe so hard to the songs, and dance and shout and sing. It would be really funny.

Model Y/N used to go to his room at 4 am when they came back from the street because they usually sit by the barricade and talked for hours.

They’d talk about all the things that mattered to them, like: career, fashion, music, video, paintings, friends, family, how fame changed their lives.

They’d laugh about all the dating rumors as well, but it would be that type of laugh like “lol I wished it was true.”

They’d tell each other dad jokes and stories about their lives and experiences until the sunrise.

By the afternoon of December 31st, 2017, they were all talking about their new year’s kiss and they decided that Harry and Y/N would be one of the pairs to kiss.

Model Y/N agreed but it was more of a joke to her than a real kiss; she didn’t take it seriously.

They all got ready to celebrate NYE on the beach.

On the next day there were tons of videos of them dancing on the beach and them with fans as well.

When the New Year came, they had their first kiss and of course that changed everything.

Both of them felt sparkles and by the effect of a few drinks that both of them had on that night, they did share some other kisses here and there on that night.

For a miracle, no one captured them kissing on camera.

FACTS OF HARRY & MODEL Y/N’S RELATIONSHIP THROUGH 2018 WILL BE CONTINUED ON THE NEXT POST.

#HARRYxMODELY/N #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #hwrryscherry #harry and y/n #harry styles and y/n #harry x reader #harry styles au

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prettyflyshyguy · 3 years

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Oops I wrote more C virus stuff

I got super energised and spent all night drafting up a one-shot about what happens when Ashley reunites with Leon post RE6 in the C-Virus AU cannon. It’s unfinished and is very much a draft, but I’m excited so I wanted to post what I have so far. I intend on compiling a bunch of these together and putting them up as chapters on AO3 and Fanfic.net once they’re edited, featuring various different characters.

You came this far just to become a Monster - The Aftermath

A brief summary: Ashley visits Leon while he’s stuck in quarantine. It gets a bit emotional.

I’m assuming the President in RE6 was the same in RE4 despite the uh long time difference between the two games. It’s 9 years and I’m Australian so I know nothing about American politics but I think a president can only serve 8 years in one stint so uh maybe he’d just been elected in 4 and was just running out of time before he died in 6? I’m rolling with that for the sake of my head-cannon/AU storylines. It makes sense given Leon was described as being good friends with him, and we can assume the friendship started once he got Ashley back home safely after the events of 4.

Given Ashley was 19/20 during RE4 she should be 28/29 post RE6 depending on her birthday.

The conversation with Hunnigan echoed in her mind as she walked down the labs corridor.

“While pursuing Chief Security Advisor Simmons, Leon became infected with the C Virus. He’s OK, don’t worry. It’s just we’re still running tests to make sure he’ll stay ok.

I know the report I gave you didn’t have much to go on in it, I’m sorry. I wasn’t allowed to provide you with much more information. You’ll just have to wait until you can see him for yourself.

He’s happy to talk with you, you can go down to the labs today if you’d like.”

“He’s happy to talk? You mean I can’t see him?”

The warm smile was betrayed by the sorrow in Hunnigan’s eyes.

“He’s still adjusting to everything. He’s spoken to a couple of our doctors and he’s dealing with a lot of internal negative emotions right now, about what people think of him. I don’t think the tests are helping.”

Hunnigan reached out and gently held Ashley’s hand, squeezing it lightly.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be happy to have you visit. It’s what he really needs right now. Trust me.”

Standing outside the viewing room door, holding her keycard at the ready, she steeled herself. The way the security staff described the setup, Leon had access to a shutter system on the viewing window, giving him control over how and when visitors can see him. It allowed him much needed privacy given his life since coming home was endless tests and scans and scientists.

Tapping her card against the reader, the light flicked green and she heard the lock release. Pressing down on the cold handle, she slipped inside. There was a small coffee table near the viewing window, the shutter was down. A few chairs were on the far wall, she pulled one up to the window and sat down. On the table there was a remote control, it looked custom made for the setup. It only had a handful of buttons, the most important of which was a ‘call’ button that she was told would alert Leon that someone was in the room, and a ‘mic on’ button. The room had an inbuilt microphone and speaker system to allow comfortable communication even if large groups were there.

It felt uncomfortably sterile. Worse than a hospital. She looked up to the top left corner of the room, where a security camera stared back. She was also told Leon had access to the feed. She wondered if he was watching now? Hunnigan said she’d call ahead. Was he waiting for her to do something first? Would he be upset that she was so hesitant?

Shaking off the feeling she hit both buttons on the controller and flashed a smile and a wave towards the security camera, for good measure.

A moment passed before she heard a light clicking sound on the intercom, before a voice emerged.

“Ashley, hey…”

She was surprised that he sounded so… Normal. She wasn't sure what she expected, no one had given her any information other than that he’d been infected but he hadn’t lost his mind. There was an extensive report written about the events that went down, she’d been able to convince the BSAA to let her read a copy of it but it was heavily redacted. Particularly the parts pertaining to Leon.

“It’s… good to see you.”

She was relieved to hear the sincerity in his voice, despite how slightly rough around the edges he sounded. He was Leon, that hadn’t changed. But she could tell he was different all the same.

“It’s good to, uh, hear you, haha..”

Her feet shuffled, she started bouncing one leg. Looking longfully at the window glass with the shutter still closed. She was fine with phone calls but this was making her nervous. It hadn’t been that long ago that they’d last spoke, that they’d last caught up in person.

“I’m sorry, about your dad. I’m sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral. I’m sorry for everything, Ashley.”

“It’s ok, Leon. You did everything you could.”

Despite the lack of contact, the uncomfortable fog in the room was palpable for both parties. Her leg bouncing rate increased. Shuffling could be heard over the intercom speaker. They each heard the pain in the other’s voice. The wound was still fresh and very deep.

Not wanting to have that conversation to a wall, Ashley attempted to change the subject.

“So how are you holding up? I mean with the tests and everything. Hunnigan said you shouldn't have to be in isolation much longer.”

“Uhh yeah… It’s fine. I’m doing fine.”

She let out a small sigh.

“You can’t bullshit me, Leon.”

Silence.

“You’ve been stuck inside that room for almost three months now. You must be tired of it, and lonely.”

She paused, before continuing.

“When I got back from Europe after you rescued me, they kept me in isolation for precautionary testing for two weeks. They were paranoid I guess. I know for you they didn’t need long to clear you of any issues. Those two weeks were the worst of my life.”

“Worse than being injected with a mind-controlling parasite?” he joked back.

“Much, much worse.” she playfully replied, “I didn’t have a strong, capable, and handsome government agent to save me from a bunch of creepy scientists in hazmat suits.”

She heard what sounded like a muffled laugh. A smile crossed her face.

“Unfortunately for me the only ‘strong, capable, and handsome’ government agent I know is limited to Visitors on Wednesdays only.”

This made Ashley giggle suddenly, the first time she’d properly and genuinely laughed since before the C-Virus incident even occurred.

“When I came home, Dad was so worried. He just wanted to make sure I was gonna be ok. He was always so busy and worked so hard. He just wanted to make sure he could change something for the positive. In the end you made sure that happened. You and Helena.”

A tear rolled down her cheek and gently dropped off her chin. Followed by another.

“I’d known Simmons for just about my whole life, he’d had family dinners with us, we’d visit his house frequently. Dad had confided in him about so much I just… I can’t believe he’d betray us like that. I can’t believe he would be so selfish.”

The tears were making it hard for her to see, her words were mixed in with sharp breaths as she began to sob.

“He killed dad and all those people, after everything, he just fucking killed him and killed everyone else and burned it to the ground all for what!! And now he’s gone and I don’t know what to do, Leon I just don’t know what to fucking do!”

She cried for a moment, letting the anger and the grief flow. Purging her system, letting it out. As she started to calm down she pulled a packet of tissues from her bag, to clean her face.

“I want to make a difference. I want to do something, like dad did.” she said slowly through strained breaths.

“I never want to feel helpless and small ever again. After you rescued me in Europe, after everything you did to stop Simmons, I want to do something for the world too.”

She glanced up at the security camera, as if it would respond back somehow. Hoping he was watching.

“You and dad made me realise what I wanted to do with my life, what I cared most about. I even changed my college degree to International Relations when I got home but I mean, you already know that. Now with the BSAA here, I’ve asked Hunnigan if she can help me shift my career slightly, and work with you and everyone else here.”

“Really? You want to work for the BSAA?”

She nodded, not knowing if he could even see. Taking the moment to have a drink from her water bottle to gather herself.

“... I’ll put in a personal recommendation, if they’re still accepting those from me after everything.”

“Thank you Leon, I’m sure they will.” Ashley smiled.

“Well if they let me do anything, once the tests are cleared, I’d like to go visit your old man with you. If you don’t mind. I couldn’t be there for the funeral so… “

“Of course Leon,” she wiped a tear from her eye, “I’d love that. I’m sure dad would too.”

“I think you’d be great here, we need more people like you Ashley.”

“Of course, someone needs to be around to stop you getting into more trouble right?”

She was hoping for a smart ass response, a laugh, a quip, something. Her comment was met with silence. Her heart sank.

“What happened to you, Leon?”

He avoided responding, she could hear more slight shuffling noises.

“I know you feel uncomfortable, god knows I would too. Everyone’s talking about you, saying you’re a hero. You and all the others that worked together to stop the C-Virus from spreading. You saved people's lives.”

“... I don’t think you’d be calling me that if you could see me right now.”

The most she’d gotten to read about the effects of the virus on him were small comments about carapace and ‘external structural changes’. In all honestly she had no idea what he looked like, if he was even recognisable. She didn’t really know how to ask, besides the fact she really only knew Hunnigan well enough to be confident posing the question.

“I wouldn’t know. No one’s shown me any photos of you. I have no idea.”

He was silent again.

“But you’re still you, in the end. Does it matter what you look like?”

“It does when you look like a monster.”

She recoiled slightly at the tone of his voice.

“When I was in China, when it happened. It didn’t really matter to me. People's lives were at stake, Simmons was out there, I embraced it in the moment because I couldn't let people down. I needed to do something. I couldn't just give up and avoid facing the world. But now? I’m stuck in this cell and every few days I get more needles poked into me and more scans and more people asking me stupid fucking questions and I just.”

He paused suddenly. Breathing for a few moments.

“I can’t deal with all of this. I’m as good as a lab animal now. And why would anyone think any differently if they saw what I’ve become.”

“C’mon, don’t say that.”

Suddenly the shutter began to move upwards, a brighter light from the room beyond the glass spilling in. It took Ashley a moment to adjust before she could fully stare at the figure sitting opposite her.

“If you were in trouble and the thing that came to help you looked like this, would you still call it a hero?”

#Leon Kennedy #Ashley Graham #C Virus AU #Resident Evil 6 #Resident Evil #fanfic #fic #Look I got way to excited about this and just knew exactly what I wanted to write #so have this very rare burst of Text from me #I'm enjoying practicing writing interactions between characters and focusing a lot on the interpersonal relationships #I'm trying to pack a lot in there #nods to other characters #reflections of the past game events #how things might change in a characters psyche after they experience something big #I hope you enjoy and if you have any feedback I'd love to hear it #because this is a draft and its almost 6am and Ive been awake a long time

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dustedmagazine · 3 years

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Bill Meyer: Lockdown pickers 2020

You don’t need me to tell you that it’s been a hell of a year. The pile-on of environmental disaster, the COVID pandemic, people being blasted with teargas for having the temerity to suggest that living while Black shouldn’t be a shooting offense, 70 million-odd Americans endorsing and abetting buffoonish fascism, and the virtual evaporation of live music — and that’s just off the top of my head.

Still, 2020 has been a great year for recorded music. Working from home and not going out at night has meant more time to play it, and while the supply and production chains have been undeniably wonky (oh yeah, I forgot to mention our departing president’s efforts to drown the US Postal Service in the bathtub and the Apollo Masters factory fire; really, fuck you, 2020), a lot of good records have made it into my house. The year has also yielded creative musical responses by creative music makers to the loss of live performances. Chicago Experimental Sound Studio provided a platform for The Quarantine Concerts, a series of live-streaming and prepared video performances that took us into performers’ homes, basements, back yards and pottery studios (I’m talking about you, Terrie Ex). No, live-streaming is not the same as attending a concert. The experience of community and shared space can’t reach you through a screen. But hearing Joe McPhee send a shout-out from his basement Batcave to Peter Brötzmann, seeing Arto Lindsay struggle with the orientation lock on his phone and getting drawn into the layered environment that Olivia Block created with film projections, played sounds and no help from an intruding cat delivered some of the same authenticity, disaster and wonder that concerts at their best can provide. And if you have had the chance to attend some concerts since March (I’ve seen three; two appearances by improvising ensembles involving Dave Rempis in a park on Chicago’s north side, and an all-outdoor edition of the Hyde Park Jazz Festival on the south side), you probably already know that live music events aren’t the same, either. The feelings of communal trust and safety, the internal shift that says “yup, this is where I’m supposed to be,” is gone. We have a lot to recapture and rebuild once the pandemic passes.

The sales and streaming platform, Bandcamp, became a hero simply by virtue of simply treating musicians like people who need a hand rather resources to be sucked dry and discarded. The monthly Bandcamp Fridays, when the company refrained from taking its cut and passed that percentage along to the artists and labels, afforded fans a direct way to help out folks whose work was getting them through the day, and allowed people who had lost all their performing opportunities a chance to make a little money. Some players took the opportunity to release music solely through Bandcamp. English soprano/tenor saxophonist John Butcher has issued seven titles collectively dubbed The Memory of Live Music. They are a sequence of previously unreleased, archival concert recordings monthly, all splendid musical statements, but also reminders of what we have been missing. Chicago saxophonist Dave Rempis’ Aerophonic Records likewise posted live recordings of short-lived ensembles like the Outskirts that he’d never gotten around to documenting, as well as one-off encounters, such as a marvelously wooly 2012 concert with guitarist Terrie Ex and drummer Tim Daisy at Milwaukee’s Sugar Maple.

But Bandcamp also gave some musicians an opportunity to create outside the frameworks of physical recordings and performance in physical proximity. Soprano/tenor saxophonist Ingrid Laubrock and her husband, drummer Tom Rainey, used her Bandcamp page as a conduit for Stir Crazy, a semi-weekly series of home recordings. Each installment lasts 15 or 20 minutes, and it might be a free improvisation, a run through a friend or inspirational elder’s compositions, or a topical commentary, such as the loving, skeletal performances of tunes from the American Songbook that they offered a few days after the election. And jazz clarinetist Ben Goldberg has kept a Plague Diary of nearly-daily sketches for clarinet and electric keyboard. Some celebrate friends, colleagues, family members, and historical figures; others simply work out an idea. It feels a bit like an invitation to look over the guy’s shoulder and see how his notions come into being.

Other parties made the circumstances of the time into a premise for new work. Mary Staubitz (Donna Parker) and Russ Waterhouse (Blues Control) reached out to fellow musicians to contribute to Distant Duos. Each candidate’s mission was to improvise for five minutes while thinking of another player, who would likewise improvise for five minutes while thinking of their counterpart. Then Waterhouse and Parker would combine the tracks. The circumscribed duration and prior acquaintance kept collaborations by the likes of Kryssi Battalene / Jayson Gerycz and Jeb Bishop / Joseph Mauro charged and focused. And the Swiss label Insub instituted Distances, for which it enlisted eight composers (including Michael Pisaro-Liu, Ryoko Akama and Sarah Hennies) to devise pieces to be performed by two physically remote musicians (such as Mike Majkowski & Cyril Bondi, or Cristián Alvear & Violeta Motta). Each contribution consists of two videos, one a sequence of interviews with the composer and the players, the other a split-screen projection of the music being played. And if you want to take the music home, you can always buy it on Bandcamp.

But the response that compelled me most is AMPLIFY 2020: quarantine, an online festival of new work initiated by Estwhile Records’ Jon Abbey. On March 12, as concert seasons canceled and countries went to lockdown, Abbey and a circle of associates invited sound artists to contribute newly recorded pieces. Over the next six months they posted 240 pieces to Facebook and Bandcamp. Most were solo works, but several were blind duos for which musicians with shared histories and separate addresses submitted solo pieces with the understanding that they’d be mixed together. At the end of the festival, Taku Unami combined sounds from all 240 pieces into a final entry, “All Together Now.” The works encompassed paint-stripping noise, solemn études, field recordings, electronic music, musique concrete, improvisations, compositions, and works that combined several of the aforementioned methods. The contributors included people you probably know (Tom Carter, Toshimaru Nakamura, Sarah Hennies, Vanessa Rossetto), others I certainly didn’t (Fangyi Liu, Asha Sheshadri), and one who also writes for Dusted (Michael Rosenstein). They made diaries of their circumscribed days, laments for lost experiences and memorials for friends who died during the festival’s duration. There are too many good ones to name, so I’ll just single out a couple performers whose work especially touched me. Reinier van Houdt’s first piece, “drift nowhere past (22 march 2020),” marvelously captured the still loneliness of life that had shrunk to what you could perceive through a window or a screen. Five subsequent monthly instalments came to feel like notes of progress from an ongoing search for purpose and grace. And the radio captures that make up Keith Rowe’s “GF SUC,” recorded as Black Lives Matters protests arose around the world, imparted sadness beyond words; I’ve heard no music that was truer to the tragedy of this time.

Bill Meyer

#yearend 2020 #dusted magazine #bill meyer #experimental sound studio #dave rempis #hyde park jazz festival #bandcamp #john butcher #aerophonic records #stir crazy #plague diary #distant duos #distances #live music #improvised music #jazz #quarantine concerts

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plainvanillapotato · 4 years

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the 100 diaries S1 E13

quarantine diaries: may 26 2020

season 1 episode 13: “We Are Grounders: Part II”

I can’t believe im already at the season 1 finale

starting strong with raven and clarke cauterizing her wound. are they really going to paralyze raven? no wait please tell me that she becomes a cyborg.

ooo the tension between finn and bellamy. FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT! hmmph. fine clarke be the killjoy and break up the fight between youre boyfriends.

i dont like mama clarke and daddy bellamy fighting and disagreeing. it is not productive for your group of kids especially with the grounders coming. i like that clarke balances out bellamy’s negativity tho. way to stay positive. i could never cuz im quite the cynic if y’all if haven’t figured that out yet

was that fire and steam scene (3:50) necessary? im not a big outdoorsy person but im pretty sure that that amount of steam of excessive. i mean it did look cool tho and dramatic af

what is this music? what is with all the slow-mo the editing team really be trying to make walking through the forest super cool and epic when it really isnt

honestly these kids are doing better than the adults. cuz its chaos up there in the ark.

shitttt when that grounder throwing star came and killed that guy.

wow they ran back to camp. soo basically the past ten minutes have been useless. like they really be lets move out and retreat then 5 minutes later be like nvm that was a bad idea lets go back to where its safe and we actually have a chance to fight back. and bet bellamy was like I FUCKING TOLD YOU! CLARKE YOU IGNORANT SLUT! *sorry another office reference

haha finn did a double face palm when clarke agreed with bellamy (7:00)

wow these cuts these editors are just adding new styles.

bellamy’s little makeshift war table is too cute. i wonder if he had individual figurines of himself, clarke, and the other main characters.

also i feel like raven is highly underappreciated. like she is essentially a one-woman show for all things mechanical and weaponry. literally if raven did not come down from the ark when she did. the 100 wouldnt even stand a chance. i honestly think that they’d all be dead already. however then again it was raven’s idea with the flares that ignited this war so......but who am i kidding if it werent the flares the 100 themselves would have found another way to piss of the grounders and start a war sooner or later

ring of fire. i see that raven also watched finding nemo

bbq grounders and raven sayin “ill cook them real good” i thought this was supposed to be feminist show so why they keeping raven in the kitchen? jk jk

finn being a noble dumbass. i stan. but woah! woah woah! finn be out here flirting with clarke and raven at the same time. in the same place. right in front of each other. slow your roll mister.

that awkward moment when the ark didn’t launch. oof. cant relate.

kane touching everyone's hands very anti-corona. but then it was all for nothing. jaha coming to stealing his thunder leaving kane lookin like a fool. jaha giving me captain america vibez rn. also star trek.

friendly reminder that chris hemsworth played chris pine’s father

when jaha said “and ill see my son” rip wells rip. the writers did him dirty :(

grounders be confident enough to announce their arrival with their drums. they should be tho cuz this kids. they aren’t reaaaady

raven having a quarter life crisis about she used to always being first and now ending up where she is now. i felt that. bitch me in college is not a good look. but also when clarke said “id pick you first” we love sisters supporting sisters. imagine if this is sparks a relationship between them. like they both realize how dumb finn is and they decide that they should just get together as a big fuck you to finn.

ooo karma is a bitch murphy.

i love how anya be a wearing a crown on the battle field. shes a queen and she knows it.

this attack between the grounders and the 100 be like the battle at winterfell in GoT (”the long night”) but just scaled down and with guns. i say this because in both that its seems like an impossible fight but also because its hard to see all the action with this poor lighting

nooooow finn listens to bellamy. thats when you know he’s desperate

wow i can’t believe these kids are actually listening to clarke cuz bitch you know if i saw those grounders coming at me you better your ass that i be running to that drop ship for cover. this kids really do have more balls than me.

they’re playing some hallelujah music while they watch the ark descend to earth. waht? then it cuts to some of the people exploding as some of the ark re enters the atmosphere. may we meet again.

how the hell did licoln find her in the mist of all this chaos? oh i know. lincoln be that weird ass person that can track a person based on their scent and you know octavia hasn’t showered in days so you know her stench is potent. aaahh the smell of true love.

aww bellamy apologized about to octavia and his “my life ended when you were born” we love a king that apologizes. really tho. not a lot of male characters apologizes for the messed up things they do/say. i stan.

goodbye octavia may you become a badass next time we meet.

ooo prettyboy bellamy no and finn too. ooh. i know they have to survive for the plot. but i dont like it when found families get separated

this was me watching my bois bellamy and finn getting the living hell beaten out of them by the grounders and not making it back to the dropship

did anya really go in there thinking that she could take on all these kids with guns and no supervision. but i mean if anyone could it would be this queen.

“we are not grounders” i think the title of the episode would disagree with you clarke

props to that stuntman. that fire looks hella hot.

don’t tell me that the air is sweet. put on a damn mask abby don’t you know that its corona season.

welp there goes my ship between kane and jaha. damn it. i mean i guess they could have a really short (timing-wise) but very loooooooong distance relationship. cheers to you thelonius. may we meet again. pour one out for me.

these mountain men have smoke grenades and lasers and guns and gas masks. modern warfare the writers said.

clarke in the good place?

van gogh. starry night. is this just random or is there actual relevance/hidden symbolism behind this. cuz if the latter im picking up on nothing.

monty!!!! He liiiiiivveeeees so...

quarantine ward! Mount Weather?! what the fuck i going on?

#the 100 #the 100 diaries #clarke #bellamy #monty #monty lives #finn #raven #jasper #octavia #lincoln #octavia x lincoln #anya

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displacedhobbit · 4 years

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Update: Greater Than Gold

AN – Uhm, so, yea. Quarantine has been a good time for me to sit down and write, so here we are. I started this story about 8 years ago. It’s drifted in and out of my thoughts pretty regularly in that time. In my absence, I’ve been scribbling down thoughts, moments, plots. I can honestly say the story is mostly finished, it’s just a matter of editing and figuring out what I want to include and reordering events to make them chronologically correct(ish).

Anyway, I fully expect that most people who have been following this story are long gone, have moved on to different fandoms, and forgotten my words. I just want to see it through.

This chapter takes us part way through the quest, to Rivendell. There will be at least one more chapter before the conclusion. And probably two endings, haha.

Warnings: Violence, some swearing.

Also on FF.net and AO3

Chapter 25: Eighty-Two and Seventy-Seven - Part 1

Word Count (chapter): 8035

It’s time.

He scans the room once more, ensuring that everything he will need for his journey has been packed. He’d made list after list and double-checked them all. He was prepared, he was ready , but he drew little comfort from that knowledge. As Dwalin had reminded him, there were no guarantees in the wild. He hurriedly paces his bedroom, scouring it for anything that he may have missed as worry claws at him.

It was time .

Not so long ago, he’d accepted that this day would never come, that Erebor would be lost to him forever. And now, now he was ready to walk out of the doors of the home he’d built in the Ered Luin, likely never to return. So much of his own blood, sweat, and tears had gone into establishing this home for his people. Nostalgia fills him; this was where he had raised his boys. There are thousands of memories here, most of them good, but the bad ones that clung around the halls like ghosts, catching him off guard when he least expected it, reminding him of all that had been lost.

But still, while he was proud of the life he had created for his people here, from practically nothing, he longed to bring them home . To let those who had fled Erebor with him walk among the halls once more. To let the children who’d only heard of it in stories gape wide-eyed at their homeland. To let them, all of them, know safety and security and belonging after being cast out and forgotten for so long. To let the stories or Erebor become real for Durin’s Folk once again.

There’s a soft knock at the door. “Come in,” he calls, calming his pacing and busying himself with checking his bags one last time.

“Dwalin just arrived,” Kíli says quietly, taking in his uncle’s somber mood. He looks nervous, and Thorin can hardly fault him. This would take his boys far from the only home they’d ever known, across the expanse of Middle Earth to a home they’d only longed for because of him .

“Come here,” Thorin requests, and his youngest nephew crosses the room with haste. He immediately pulls him into a tight embrace, feels the tension in his youngest nephew’s back. “It is time, isn’t it?”

He feels Kíli nod against his shoulder as the lad tightens his grip on him. “Be careful,” he murmurs. Though his tone is soft, it is stern, and Thorin knows that his words are a command, not a request.

Thorin kisses his temple, squeezing him one last time before releasing him. “Come. We must not keep your brother and Dwalin waiting,” he says, reaching for his bags. Kíli grabs one of them, carrying it with him as they leave the room. Thorin holds back, casting one last glance around, before following Kíli to the living room where Dwalin and Fíli are quietly conversing.

“Ready to go?” Dwalin asks cheerfully, clapping a hand on Fíli’s shoulder. Thorin can tell that he’s deliberately keeping the mood light to brighten his spirits, and he is grateful for it. His heart has longed for Erebor since the day the wretched dragon came, but even he cannot deny that parts of Ered Luin will always feel like home. It still feels impossibly hard to leave.

“Aye,” he murmurs. “Should be able to make good time with this early of a start.” He looks to Fíli. “Come here, lad,” he calls, and wraps his heir into a tight embrace.

Fíli heaves a sigh as he hugs him closer still. “Please be careful,” he echoes his brother’s words.

“I will,” he promises, dropping a quick kiss to his forehead as he shifts to hold him out at arm’s length. “Take care of each other,” he says, regarding Kíli as well. “I will see you in Bree.” He pulls Fíli back into another embrace, reaching for Kíli as well.

He holds both of his boys tight, breathing with them to calm his nerves. He refuses to entertain the possibility that this will be the last time he sees them. “I love you both,” he murmurs, throat tight at the admission. It isn’t often that he voices his affection for the lads, and he feels both of them hug him tighter at his words.

“And I love this whole sorry lot,” Dwalin confesses as he joins in, wrapping a bone crushing embrace around the three of them. Kíli lets out a rough laugh, one that shows just how tight with emotion his throat has become, and Thorin feels his heart lurch as he desperately squashes the dark visions creep into his mind again.

Dwalin gives another squeeze before pulling away. “Alright, lads, we’ve got to be off now.” Thorin is fairly certain he sees the glimmer of a tear in his old friend’s eye and knows that it pains Dwalin just as much as it does him to leave.

“Two weeks,” Thorin says as they separate. “Oin and Gloin will be ahead of you; they’ll send word if there are any signs of trouble. Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur will be three days behind you.” Thorin adjusts his hold on his pack, before reaching for the bag Kíli had carried into for him earlier. “Be careful, lads,” he all but whispers, reaching for his nephews once more to touch his forehead to each of theirs. “We will see you in Bree.” If his voice cracks, none of them comment on it.

“Good luck,” Kíli says, his voice coming out overly loud in their otherwise stiflingly quiet home, and though he has put on a brave face, Thorin can see how his eyes are watering. A glance toward Fíli shows that he does not fare much better.

“Stay safe, lads,” Dwalin says, speaking when Thorin finds himself unable to due to the lump that has lodged itself in his throat. He claps a hand on both of the boy’s shoulders, squeezing them gently as he does. “We’ll see you soon.”

No one is able to find any more words as Thorin and Dwalin finish preparing to leave. They pause for one more round of embraces, and no one comments on the mistiness of all of their eyes.

Without a sound, Thorin and Dwalin depart the dwelling, with Fíli and Kíli trailing behind them, heading through the still halls in the early morning. Being up before most of the settlement makes their journey quicker than normal, and soon they reach the mouth of Thorin’s Halls, where the early dawn light slips through the open gates.

Thorin turns to regard his nephews once more, taking in their faces and committing them to memory, just in case. Surprisingly, it is Fíli who blinks out a tear, so Thorin reaches for him first, curling his fingers around the back of his neck and knocking their foreheads together with a tenderness he was sure he had lost in the last few years. From the corner of his eye, he sees Dwalin do the same to Kíli, and once he is ready he breaks his embrace with his eldest to trade places. When they part, Kíli gives him a brave, albeit shaky, smile, and Thorin feels a wave of emotion wash over him.

He doesn’t deserve these boys. He doesn’t deserve their love, he knows, but he cherishes it all the same.

“We will see you in Bree,” he says once more with a steady voice, willing himself to believe it. This part of the journey makes him anxious, when they will all be setting out at different times, following different paths before reaching the main road…he will not be able to protect them in the wilds, but he trusts that their training is enough to keep them safe.

He will rest easier once they are all reunited.

As he and Dwalin turn to greet the misty morning, he doesn’t dare look back to the gate. He keeps his gaze forward, on to the port at the Gray Havens where he will meet with Dain’s men, then to Bree to reconvene with the company, then to Erebor. He mustn’t look back; not now. He’s come too far for that.

His eyes are fixed on home .

------

It doesn’t take long for them to set up camp for the night; he and Kíli are well practiced at it. But his brother is unusually fidgety and cautious, his eyes keep flitting toward the tree line as if the darkness itself is going to creep into their campsite. While Fíli has removed his scabbards and set his swords to the side for the night, Kíli’s bow stays slung on his shoulder, and though his brother has laid his sword down, his hunting knife is still tucked into his waistband.

The camping is familiar; they’ve done it dozens, if not hundreds of times before on hunting trips. The setting is not . Kíli has never been this far from home, far enough that the Blue Mountains sit on the horizon and the trees are becoming sparser every day, giving way to rolling fields of tall, tall grasses. Thorin has taken Fíli on enough trips that the road feels almost comfortable for him, but Kíli is all jittery and full of nervous energy. With every day it gets slightly worse, and Fíli hopes that once they reunite with Thorin and the rest of the company that he’ll settle down.

“Should only be a few more days until we get to Shire,” Fíli murmurs, stretching his arms behind his back as he speaks. “And then maybe two more days to Bree. I can’t wait to have a soft pillow under my head again.”

Kíli makes noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, eyes still scanning the edge of the forest.

“Hey,” he calls again, waiting until his brother’s gaze turns to him instead. “Come here.” He pats the ground next to him. “Boots off. Feet by the fire. Relax. I mean it,” he adds when Kíli very nearly rolls his eyes at him.

Kíli settles in by his side, pressed too close as always, but Fíli takes advantage of this position to sneak his bow off his shoulder. Kíli shoots him a look, but just sighs and unbuckles his quiver and lays it next to his bow. He looks tired. Fíli wraps his arm around his shoulder, smiling when his brother instinctively lays his head down on his shoulder. “Maybe we’ll even have an ale or two,” Kíli murmurs sleepily, and Fíli’s smile pulls even wider.

“I mean no offence to Mister Bombur, but the ale in Bree is much better than his,” he says, chuckling at Kíli’s feigned gasp of disbelief.

“Traitor,” he teases, “I’ll tell him. He’ll only have you drink the skunked ale from here on out.”

Fíli chuckles at him. “You wouldn’t. I’d bring you down with me,” he promises.

Suddenly, Kíli’s head snaps up from his shoulder, and his dark eyes focus on the edge of the clearing. His hands reach instinctively for his bow, fumbling for a moment before he finds where Fíli set it down.

“What’s wrong?” Fíli whispers, but is immediately hushed by his brother. Then he hears it, too, the soft crunching of underbrush in the distance.

Someone is coming.

Fíli immediately reaches for his scabbard and pulls his sword free, eyes intently watching his brother. Kíli has always been able to see better at night than him, better at using his senses to locate prey moving stealthily through the woods, so he knows it is best to follow his lead.

Silently, Kíli pulls an arrow and nocks it in his bow. The sound of snapping branches gets louder. Whoever is encroaching on their camp is making no means to be quiet about it. Kíli starts to draw, his eyes narrowed, focused on something that Fíli cannot see.

“Oy, don’t shoot me, laddie!” Bofur’s unmistakable tenor sounds through the woods, and Kíli relaxes, muttering a curse under his breath.

“Mahal, Bofur!” Fíli exasperates. “You nearly scared the life out of me!”

“Good thing he didn’t hear you talking about his ale,” Kíli teases, smirk playing at his lips even as his shoulders stay tense.

“Sorry, lads,” Bofur says as he, Bifur, and Bombur finally reach the clearing. “Wasn’t completely sure it was you all we were coming up on.”

“You’re supposed to be three days behind us,” Fíli says, as he and his brother cross the clearing to meet the other dwarves, helping them deposit their supplies to set up camp.

“Got a raven the day after you left. Thorin wanted us to catch up to you and head to Hobbiton instead,” Bombur explains, already digging in his pack for his cooking supplies. “Forgot to pack some of my spices in our haste to leave, but we should be able to make due until we can purchase more provisions,” he says with a wry smile.

Kíli shakes his head and laughs at him. “Priorities, honestly,” he murmurs, and then signs something quickly to Bifur in Iglishmek that makes the older dwarf laugh as well.

“Did he say why?” Fíli asks as they all settle around the fire, where Bombur has immediately taken to seasoning the rabbits they’d had roasting there. “Is something wrong?”

Bofur shakes his head. “Nah, didn’t seem to be anything amiss, though it’s hard to tell in a letter. Didn’t use any of ‘em code words, so I suppose it’s all right.” He reaches into the pocket of his overcoat and pulls out a piece of parchment, handing it to Fíli.

Before leaving, the company had settled on a few phrases that sounded innocent enough that Thorin was comfortable sending through the ravens, but held special meaning for them, and them alone. The ale’s gone stale meant that Dain’s men had crossed them, or This town reeks of tall folk meant that they were under threat of attack.

It doesn’t surprise him at all when Kíli’s head appears behind his, reading the letter over his shoulder. Bofur was right, there isn’t anything off about the message, just that their meeting place had changed and they were to look for a door with a particular rune on it once they reached Hobbiton. Straight and to the point.

“Gets you to your soft pillow and decent ale sooner,” Kíli murmurs, smirking at him when Bofur looks up in surprise.

“Oy! What’s wrong with my ale, laddie?”

------

They wander the narrow trails of Hobbiton, passing a glance at each door they pass to check for the rune. Bofur and his kin had decided to refresh themselves at the inn before reuniting with the company (with some “ decent ale ,” Bofur had teased), but Fíli and Kíli were anxious to see their uncle again, so they’d headed on.

“What if we’re the first ones there?” Kíli asks, idly chewing on a piece of grass. They nod in greeting to a hobbit that passes them with a wide berth, giving them a peculiar look all the while and muttering something about strange folk in the town once they’d passed. From his lessons, he knew that Hobbiton was fairly isolated and wary of outsiders, so he paid it no mind.

“Then I suppose Master Boggins will have to entertain us for a short while,” Fíli answers easily. “Though I should think Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin should be there already.”

He pauses, and regards his brother with interest. “I thought it was Baggins?”

Fíli’s eyes narrow in thought. “I’m fairly certain it was Boggins,” he affirms. “Hey, do you see that?” he asks, pointing toward a house on a hill. There’s a small thing at the base of the door, shimmering in the glowing moonlight. “That’s got to be the mark, don’t you think?”

Kíli nods in agreement, and they set off up the hill. “I hope he has food,” he grumbles lightly, suddenly wishing he had stopped at the inn with Bofur.

“I’m certain he will,” Fíli assures him. “No one in their right mind would host thirteen dwarves without preparing a proper meal first.”

------

It’s been raining for days . Kíli is certain that even his bones are soaked through at this point; he’s forgotten what it meant to be dry. The entire company had been right miserable, Thorin most of all, as they’d continued trudging along, hoping that the rain would either let up or they’d come across a town with an inn where they could warm up and sleep.

Even Fíli’s normally cheery mood had soured; he’d snapped at him earlier that morning for simply trying to start a conversation with him. It was early in the afternoon (at least, he thought it was; it was hard to tell with the overcast sky and the monotony of the road) when Kíli slowed his pony down and shifted to the back of their traveling party to ride next to Mister Baggins (oh, he would need to get his brother back for that one later).

The hobbit looked as miserable as he did, and so Kíli decided to ride by him in companionable silence instead of trying to force conversation.

“This is not at all what I was expecting,” the hobbit – Bilbo – utters bitterly, furiously wiping rain from his face. “Not like any of my walking holidays at all! None of the adventures in my books talk about how utterly mundane this all is.”

Kíli chuckles lightly. “I must agree,” he admits. “Though I’ve never been on quite such a journey before. I suppose I didn’t really know what to expect.”

Bilbo adjusts himself on his saddle. “And these ponies! I much prefer the ground under my feet, thank you!”

He glances down toward the hobbit’s feet. “Wouldn’t that be painful?” he asks without thinking, forgetting his manners and Balin’s teachings about the ways of hobbits. Were his teacher within earshot, he would have gotten a lecture for certain.

“You know, with as hardy as dwarves are supposed to be, you’d think your feet could handle some rough terrain,” Bilbo replies, unbothered, a mirthful expression on his face that makes Kíli laugh and forget the rain for a moment.

Gloin tosses an irritated look back at them, clearly still disgruntled from the rain, which makes Bilbo downright giggle in response.

“The rain’s making ‘em delirious back there,” Bofur teases good-naturedly, which only earns him a scoff from Gloin.

They lapse into a comfortable silence, and for a while, the rain doesn’t feel so stifling.

-----

Bilbo wakes with a start. He’s not been too keen on sleeping on the ground in the first place, but it’s made worse by the fact that he thinks there was something crawling on him just then. He fumbles out of his bedroll, dusting himself off where he swears something just slithered across his legs. The fire has burned low and is casting strange shadows around their camp, giving him all the more reason to feel anxious about a creeping visitor in the night.

He knows he won’t find sleep anytime soon, so he looks to see who is on watch, thinking that perhaps he will keep them company for a while or maybe relieve them early if they’re tired. It’s Kíli that’s watching him from where he is propped up against a tree trunk, a small little smirk gracing his lips that lets Bilbo know he saw his miniature freak out, and he has the decency to at least blush a little before he makes his way over to him. Fíli is asleep beside him, half curled into his side and using his little brother’s leg as a pillow.

“Can’t sleep, Mister Baggins?” he asks as soon as Bilbo sits beside him, a smile clearly evident in his voice. He likes Kíli, he knows. The young dwarf is always full of energy and is overly kind to him, which is something that could not be said for the rest of the company.

“No,” he answers. “We don’t all have the luxury of your brother to fall asleep at the drop of a hat, no matter where.”

Kíli chuckles before glancing down at his brother, affection clear in his features. “A bit annoying, really. He tricked me into watch. Said he wanted someone to keep him company and then dropped right off.”

Bilbo laughs as well; it does certainly sound like something Fíli would do. The lads had broken up the monotony of the journey by playing pranks on one another, much to the amusement of the company (he’d even seen Thorin crack a smile at their antics). “I could take over for you, if you want,” he offered. “I’ll be imagining things squirming around my bedroll for the rest of the night, I suppose.”

Kíli gives him a light smile, but he notices how it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I can’t really sleep either,” he admits, and there’s something about him that just looks so off and vulnerable in that moment that Bilbo suddenly realizes how young Kíli must be.

Eventually he fishes out his pipe and fills it, offering some to Kíli, who simply shakes his head. He takes a long drag, tastes the Shire and home , and it brings a bit of peace back to him. He watches Kíli for a moment, notices how his gaze keeps flickering from one sleeping dwarf to the next, to the treetops and the stars, to the fire.

“How old are you, Kíli?” he asks eventually, curiosity getting the better of him, even if it may not be proper to ask such a bold question at this time of night.

If Kíli is surprised by his question, he doesn’t show it, but his eyes do stop their wandering and eventually settle Thorin. “Seventy-seven,” he answers.

Bilbo raises an eyebrow. He is only fifty, and hadn't imagined that Kíli could be older than him, but he thinks he remembers from one of his books that dwarrows live a good bit longer than hobbits. “When do dwarrows come of age?” he asks, and notices that Kili almost blushes, but it could be a trick of the firelight.

“At eighty,” he answers. “The company had to vote to let me come or not.” He swallows thickly, and Bilbo knows there’s something else he wants to say, so he gives him time to speak. Eventually the young dwarf just sighs and shakes his head.

Bilbo lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think I would have ever been able to convince my parents to let me journey so far before I was of age,” he comments, searching for familiar patterns in the stars, silence stretching between them.

“My parents have been gone a long time,” Kíli eventually murmurs. “It’s just me and Fíli. Always has been.”

Bilbo curses his boldness. There’s a sadness in the lad’s voice that he’s not heard before, and he hates that his curiosity puts it there. Yet, it explained why the brothers were so close, much closer than any of the other siblings in the company. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

Kíli doesn’t reply, but Bilbo sees the soft smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. The dwarf isn’t cross with him, which comes as a huge relief.

“I had forgotten that dwarrows live much longer than hobbits,” he eventually says, breaking the silence and steering the conversation down a different path, puffing on his pipe thoughtfully. “But no doubt you’ve had plenty of time for adventures in seventy-seven years?”

Kíli gives him a lopsided grin. “I’m just as green as you, Mister Baggins,” he admits. “Up until a few months ago, I’d never left Ered Luin.”

Bilbo is quite certain that his jaw drops, drawing a light chuckle from Kíli.

“Well, sometimes Mister Dwalin and I would go on hunting trips, but they were never far away or for very long,” he explains. “And I went out on patrol around Ered Luin, but still, not far.”

“Oh,” is all Bilbo can think to reply. The lad had seemed so at ease in the wilds; he had just assumed Kíli had more experience than most, especially having been chosen for such an important quest. Bravery must be in no short supply for dwarrow, he reasoned. “Well then, I hope you are at least not as afraid of everything as I am.”

Kili’s gaze flickered down. “I am,” he admits quietly, and Bilbo wonders how in the world he can possibly be afraid, because he is always sent out scouting and climbing trees and hunting, typically with a smile and an eagerness not possessed by the rest of the company. But really, he realizes, Kili is still just a child, one who has never been away from home before.

“Is that why you can’t sleep?” he ventures, and Kíli just nods. Bilbo offers him his pipe again, but he refuses again. “Well, I’ll look after you if you decide to nod off. I can keep watch until morning.”

That soft, kind smile returns. “Thank you,” he murmurs quietly, and Bilbo can hear the sincerity in his words.

The comfortable silence descends over them once again, and Bilbo focuses on his pipe, idly humming fragments of a mostly forgotten lullaby from his childhood, the words dancing around his mind but flitting just out of reach. He wonders how he’s forgotten the words but can hear his mother’s voice clear as day, wonders if Kíli does the same with old dwarven lullabies. He turns to ask, but to his pleasant surprise sees that Kíli’s eyes have slipped closed, his head resting back against the tree trunk, chest rising and falling with steady, even breaths, lulled to sleep by the pleasant smell of pipe smoke and Bilbo’s humming.

Bilbo smiles, feeling immeasurably proud of himself as he settles in to keep watch for the next few hours.

He doesn’t see the fire glinting from Thorin’s eyes, who quietly watches him with a growing fondness.

-----

Lightning cracks across the sky, followed by another booming rumble of thunder. He and Kíli are working quickly to get the rest of the ponies tied to some trees, to keep the spooked beasts from fleeing in the night. As it is, Fíli feels fairly certain that one or more of them will be missing before the dawn. He deftly ties the reigns of the last of his ponies, before looking back at Kíli to see if he’s almost done. He cannot wait to be back under the cover of the outcropping of rocks they had found just before the skies opened up in this deluge.

His brother is on the last of his ponies, Minty, and Fíli begins to trudge over to help him along. Another bolt of lightning streaks the sky, bathing the entire wood in an eerie blue light, with the impossibly loud crack of thunder coming immediately after. Fíli sees Minty rear up in fear before sprinting off. Frantically, Fíli’s eyes search for his brother in the suddenly dark wood, but he cannot see him - the place where Kíli stood moments ago is empty.

“Fee!” he hears in the distance, and with a sickening feeling he realizes that Kíli must be caught up in Minty’s reigns, being dragged alongside her as she flees.

“We need help!” he screams in the direction of their encampment, before tearing off after the pony. Lightning illuminates the forest once more, and Fíli can see them, can see Kíli’s arm trapped in Minty’s reigns as his brother tries to pull himself free. He pushes himself faster, sprinting through the brush of the forest to catch them. Another flash reveals the stream they’d forded earlier, and with relief he realizes that Minty will likely stop at its banks - she’d been the most reluctant to cross it. He’ll be able to catch them and get his brother loose.

He trips over a branch, falls face first into the underbrush, and hears a large splash from ahead.

“No, no,” he breathes, scrambling to his feet. The next flash of lightning reveals Minty’s head barely above the tumultuous waters as she frantically tries to cross, with Kíli nowhere in sight. “Kíli!”

He reaches the streambank just as Minty pulls herself up on the other side, reigns cut. Kíli must have managed to free himself, but he’s still nowhere to be seen.

Panic grips at him as he scans the turbid waters, searching for any sign of his brother. Behind him, he hears someone calling out, but he can’t focus on who it is or what they’re saying. Another flash of lightning and he sees him, at least the blue of his hood, farther downstream. He sprints down the bank, his boots sticking in the mud, slowing him with each step, but he keeps his eyes on the hood, terrified that he will lose sight of it and his brother will be lost for good. When lightning flashes once more, he is relieved and horrified to see an outcropping of rocks blocking most of the stream flow, water rushing over and around them in their quest downstream. The rocks should stop him, and Fíli will be able to catch up.

Without thinking, he leaps into the rushing water, frantically moving forward, the water pushing him along with unforeseen might. He smashes into the rocks, his hands gripping wildly for his brother. Finally, he feels Kíli’s solid weight just under the surface and he pulls .

“Here, laddie; we’ve got ‘em,” he hears suddenly, and he looks up to see Bofur and Bifur with their arms extended. He lifts his Kíli up as well as he can, and the brothers grab him to pull him the rest of the way up. Kíli is deadweight, unmoving, and Fíli’s heart lurches in his chest as Bifur carefully carries him across the rocks and to the riverbank.

“Now you,” says Bofur, and Fíli reaches for him, grateful for his help in getting out of the stream as his legs have turned to jelly and he’s not certain he could have done it on his own. He leans heavily on the innkeeper, trying to find his brother in the darkness.

“He’s not breathing,” he hears someone say, but he can’t quite place their voice. He abruptly realizes how cold he is. Lightning flashes again, but it seems so dim. Why is everything so dark? “Someone get Oin! He’s not breathing!”

He feels the mud of the bank under his feet, but his legs give out when Bofur relinquishes his hold to let him stand. He hears thunder, and everything goes dark.

-----

“Move!” Bilbo commands, startled by his own forwardness. Dori obliges without comment, stepping aside from Kíli’s limp form, face clouded with worry. Kíli looks like hell, practically blue. Bilbo sinks to his knees beside the lad, shaking fingers brushing the hair back from his face, alarmed at how cold he is. Gently, he adjusts the lad’s head, trying to recall the rescue breathing his Brandybuck cousins had taught him ages ago when they were just children. When he pulls his hands back, he is dismayed to see them covered in blood.

“Do you know what to do?” Dori asks from behind him.

Dimly, he nods. “I think so, at least,” he admits, suddenly unsure of himself.

“Need some help over here, lads!” Bofur calls, and Bilbo looks up to see him struggling to support Fíli’s weight. Bifur rushes to help carry him, throwing Fíli’s arm over his shoulder to hoist him up. “Dori, get Oin. We’ll be right behind you.” He fixes Bilbo with a stern look. “You’ve got him ‘til they get back?”

“Yes; now go!” Bilbo orders, confidence returning as his fingers feel for the boy’s pulse along his neck, finally finding it sluggishly pounding along. He takes a deep breath, pinches Kíli’s nose, then breaths into his mouth once, then twice. The lad’s chest rises with each breath, something he vaguely remembers as a good sign, but he can’t for the life of himself remember why.

“C’mon, Kíli,” he murmurs, before breathing for him again. And again. And again. Watching between each breath for a sign of life from the lad. And again.

It can’t be like this. Not Kíli. Kíli who was so kind, and listened to his stories, and found ways to make him laugh on the darkest days of their journey. He breathes for him again. Watches. Nothing .

And Fíli! Was he alright? In shock, no doubt, from the icy chill of the water. He breathes again. Watches. Surely he would be okay, but without Kíli? Breathes again. He can’t fathom it. He’d only known them for a short time, but they were practically two souls sharing one body. Again. Again.

Again .

Kíli suddenly coughs, spurting up water as he does, before taking a rough, heaving breath. His body spasms violently as his consciousness comes back to him, grating, gasping breaths shake his entire form.

“It’s alright,” he soothes, stroking his hands along his face, his shoulders. “You’re alright, Kíli; we’ve got you.”

Oin suddenly appears beside him. “Said he wasn’t breathing?” he asks. “You did this?”

“My cousins taught me rescue breathing after one of them nearly drowned,” he explains hastily. “I think he has a head injury,” he adds, holding up his still bloodied hand as evidence.

“That arm might be broken, too,” Oin says, gesturing to Kíli’s right hand, which is already bruised and purple, swollen around his gauntlet. “C’mon, lads,” he says, and Bilbo looks up to see Gloin and Dwalin, their faces stricken with worry. “Let’s get him to the fire; Mister Baggins’ fine work will be for naught if we don’t get him warm.”

Numbly, Bilbo follows after them as they carry Kíli’s still sputtering form, hurrying through the downpour to get him under the safety of the outcrop. After what seems like an eternity, he spies the campfire in the distance. As they get closer, he can see the dwarves wrapping Fíli in furs. He’s cradled against Bofur’s chest, next to the fire, mumbling incoherently as he comes back to his senses.

Thorin is positively frantic, which strikes Bilbo as odd. He is immediately at Kíli’s side while Oin strips him of his soaking clothes, and it is Thorin who gathers the lad into his arms and wraps him tight under his furs, lips pressed close against his temple as he whispers words Bilbo cannot hear while Oin prods at his head, searching for the wound.

He feels like an intruder, like he’s watching something deeply private infold, so he slips away.

Silently, he trods off to the other side of the fire, to sit beside Fíli and Bofur. Fíli seems to have regained some of his strength - he’s not leaning on Bofur quite so much, and his eyes are focused on his brother across the fire. Bombur has placed a warm bowl of stew in his hands, and he’s cradling it gently, the tips of his fingers white with cold.

“He’s breathing?” Fíli asks as Bilbo approaches, his voice a stammering slur of words.

“He is,” Bilbo confirms as he settles himself, warming his chilled hands by the fire. Thunder rumbles again, making him jump. His adrenaline from being able to help has faded; now he just feels worried and cold. “What even happened?”

Fíli clears his throat. “I’m not quite sure,” he admits, his voice trembling. “We were tieing up the ponies. I looked over and one of them bolted, and I don’t know what happened but Kíli was...he was caught somehow...and…”

“His arm looked injured,” Bilbo said softly. “It must have gotten tangled in the reigns.”

Fíli chokes on a sob. “He went under and I couldn’t find him,” he murmurs, and Bilbo glances over at him, dismayed to see the tears pooling in his eyes. “I couldn’t help him.”

He reaches over and pats Fíli’s arm, trying his best to soothe the lad. “You did help him, Fíli. You got him out of the water. And now Oin will take good care of him.”

At that moment, Kíli lets out a pitiful wail as Oin tends to the wound on his head. Fíli starts to stand, but Bofur grabs his arm to keep him seated. “Rest, laddie,” he commands. “He’s in the best of hands.”

“I’m not leaving him alone,” Fíli asserts, and when he staggers to his feet, Bofur doesn’t stop him. Bilbo watches in barely concealed amazement as Thorin opens his arms and allows Fíli to settle into his opposite side, gingerly taking his brother’s arm into his hands to examine it. He’s never seen Thorin show a lick of affection to anyone in the company (and certainly not to him), and this raw tenderness...it’s a side of the dwarf king he hadn’t seen before.

His musing is interrupted as Bombur hands him his own bowl of stew. “It’s supposed to be a secret,” Bofur says after a moment, “but I think you’ve earned our trust.”

Bilbo regards him oddly. Their trust? Did he not already have it when he agreed to come on this blasted quest?

“They’re his nephews,” the innkeeper says, voice quiet, buried under the commotion of the camp.

“His what ?” Bilbo asks, incredulous. Slowly, the pieces click into place, his conversation with Kíli from a few nights ago catapulting to the front of his mind. Being orphaned, having to rely on his brother, being brought on the quest even though he wasn’t of age…

“He doesn’t want anyone to know because they’re his heirs - could wipe out the entire line of Durin at once if some evil sort wanted to,” he continues, still quiet. “Aside from Erebor, he loves those boys more than anything in the world. Raised ‘em himself. They may as well be his sons.”

-----

Kíli finally feels warm again, from where he is pressed against his chest. Thorin watches him as he sleeps, the subtle movement of his eyes beneath his eyelids. The fact that he is sleeping relatively peacefully is a gift that he won’t take for granted.

He truly thought they had lost him. When Oin and Dwalin had brought him back to their encampment...he was too pale, streaks of red blood on his face and neck, his arm impossibly swollen…and Fíli, his sweet Fíli, soaked to the bone and utterly terrified that he’d been too late to help his brother.

He’d been ready to scold the lads about being careless when tending to the ponies, but all of that anger, all of his appearances dissipated the second he’d heard Fíli’s frantic scream in the storm. The second he’d seen his frightened face…

He swallows thickly. Nightmares for his past swirl around his mind, horrible visions that he hoped would never come to pass. He regrets bringing them, both of them, but they’re too far gone to turn back now.

Oin had worked quickly on Kíli, finding and stitching the gash on his head, bracing his (fortunately unbroken) arm. The lad had been nearly delirious, from pain or cold or both, and Thorin had focused on talking him through what was happening, on distracting him with stories from his childhood, keeping him awake so Oin could assess the severity of his concussion. When Fíli had stumbled over he couldn’t help but gather him into his arms as well. Kíli was certainly in a more dire state, but it wasn’t lost on him that Fíli had nearly lost his life as well. If Bofur hadn’t heard his call...if he hadn’t rushed to their aid…

He couldn’t let himself dwell on that.

Holding them both so close had reminded him of when they were children, when Kíli was horribly afraid of storms and Fíli was afraid of sleeping alone, and they would both clamber into his study (where he inevitably was still up, pouring over his maps and books) and curl up on the settee together until they calmed enough to go to sleep.

But they weren’t children anymore, and they weren’t in the comfort of their home. They were in the wilds, on a quest that Thorin had no right to bring them on, no right to even ask them to come on.

The guilt gnaws at him, and he curls his arms tighter around Kíli’s sleeping form. He catches Fíli’s eye across the fire, where his heir is heating some water for the herbal tea Oin had given him for his aches. Fíli gives him a gentle smile, but Thorin sees the sadness and fear that still linger in his eyes. Thorin had held him close last night as he’d cried out his fears and blamed himself. But from the sounds of it, it was all a freak accident. No one could be blamed for this, not truly. Perhaps Minty, but the beast was only acting on instinct, and now she and her supplies were lost.

Kíli stirs slightly. Thorin peers down to be met with clouded, confused brown eyes. “You’re awake,” he says quietly, and Kíli’s brow furrows.

“Wha-” Kíli starts, his voice raspy. “What happened?”

Fíli rejoins then, smiling slightly when he sees that his brother is awake. He takes the tea he’d brewed for himself and presses it into his brother’s hands. “Minty took you for a late night swim,” he says, light tone belying the fear of the night before. “Drink this,” he adds, helping his brother lift the mug to his lips. “It’ll help you feel better.”

Kíli frowns. “Wha’s wrong with my hand?”

“Got tangled up in her reigns, I’m afraid.” Fíli explains, and Thorin is immensely grateful for his calming presence. A lump has lodged itself in his throat, and he doesn’t trust himself to speak. “Oin thinks it’s just a sprain,” he adds. “Should be right in a few days.”

Kíli quietly sips the warm tea, a soft hum of appreciation slips from the back of his throat. He lifts his head from Thorin’s chest to look around, but quickly grimaces and screws his eyes shut, letting his head fall back. “Ah, shit,” he grumbles, making Thorin chuckle, loosening the knot in his throat.

“Oin thinks your head will be off for a few days yet,” he explains. “Maybe sooner with the teas, but you’ll need to take it slow until then.”

“Thought you always said I had a thick head,” Kíli grumbles, drawing a bark of laughter from Balin nearby, which tugs a small smile to Kíli’s lips.

“Good thing, too, laddie,” Balin says, laughter still bubbling in his voice. “A knock that hard to any of the rest of this lot would have then out cold for days.” He casts a glance over to his brother. “Except for Dwalin, of course.”

Kíli laughs for real then, and Fíli joins in. Thorin feels immensely relieved to hear them sounding so much like themselves; it dissolves some of his guilt and frustration, reminding him that although they are but boys, they are strong , and loyal, and kind. It reminds him of why he included them in the company, even with his reservations, of their worth to this quest, of the rewards they would reap in Erebor.

And despite the terror of the night’s events, he feels more sure of himself than ever.

-----

“I don’t care what Uncle says about elves,” Fíli sighs contentedly, sinking into the huge, cushiony covering of the bed they’d been lent for the night. “So long as I get to sleep on this divine bed, they’re alright in my book. They’re even more hospitable than the poor hobbit was!”

“ Bilbo ,” Kíli reminds him. Having grown close to the hobbit during their adventure, he’d learned that he was particularly annoyed at being referred to simply as “the hobbit.” ( “I have a name,” he’d grumbled after Dwalin had dismissed him easily. “A perfectly good name that he’d be kind to remember!” ) Since then, Kíli had tried to use his name as often as possible.

“Yes, Bilbo,” Fíli amends. “Speaking of, what do you think of him?”

Kíli adjusts the sleeves of the robe the elves had lent them while they tended to their clothes, rolling them to keep them from covering his hands, before clammering up onto the bed with his brother. “I don’t know how he’ll fare as a burglar,” he admits, settling into the delightfully comfortable bedding. “But he is kind and honorable. A good man.”

“Mmm,” Fíli murmurs in agreement, practically falling asleep. It had been a long time since they had gone off to bed with a full belly and all of the comforts of home (though, to be true, the luxurious halls of the elves were a far cry from their modest upbringing), and Kíli would be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased with the turn of events. Elven culture was dramatically different than their own, but seeing a semblance of home , even if it wasn’t his home, had been deeply comforting.

A thought occurred to him, one that he had tried to squash down many times before, moreso now that their journey had started. He’d never properly voiced it aloud, not even to his brother.

What even was home ? Ered Luin had been the only home he had ever known, but being raised by Thorin it was always treated as a temporary solution. His days were filled with stories of Erebor, of their real home, but that’s all they were to him. Stories.

Now that the quest was proceeding, he felt a distinct fear gnawing at him. Would he even like Erebor? Thorin always spoke of the great, winding halls that carved deep into the mountain, but Kíli hated being underground for long stretches of time, much preferring the rolling, open fields or the comforting canopy of the forest. ( Elf-bred indeed , his brain mocks). If Thorin were restored to his throne, certain...responsibilities would be expected of him. He wasn’t sure he would be able to fulfill them. Fellow dwarves would be depending on them, and he was right terrified of letting them down, of not being up to the task.

He knew in many ways Fíli felt the same way - that their upbringing precluded him from being a suitable heir to Thorin’s throne, that he also feared not being adequate for their people. But Fíli didn’t see himself the way Kíli did - the way their fellow dwarves in the settlement saw him. He was assured and just and kind. He was skilled on the battlefield and had proven his worth as a soldier and general in his time on patrol.

And then there was the unspoken truth about his birth - he was the spare. Part of him didn’t even dare to hope that he would ever even see the halls of Erebor, which is maybe why he couldn’t picture where he would fit. He’d already nearly lost his life thrice already - most recently this morning, when he’d covered the company as they’d fled the band of orc hunting them, jagged arrows narrowly missing him. Then there was the business with the trolls, and not to mention how he almost got himself drowned (purely on accident, at that!). The wizard had alluded to the fact that the danger would increase the farther they traveled - that Rivendell would be their last safe sanctuary for quite some time.

He drew up the map of their road in his mind. Idly, he wondered at which point he would meet his demise.

“You’re not sleeping,” Fíli groggily mumbles, arm blindly flopping around to find him. “Go t’sleep.”

Kíli rolls, curling up against his brother’s side, squashing down his dark thoughts once again. Fíli already has so much to worry about; he doesn’t want to burden him further, especially knowing how much theorizing about his own end distresses his brother.

He focuses instead, on happier memories, in particular on a foraging trip he had taken with Fíli and Dwalin through the woods surrounding Ered Luin on a perfect autumn day, the leaves swirling around them in reds and golds in the crisp breeze. They were just children, unburdened by the worries of their people. Carefree. Happy .

The sound of Fíli’s soft snoring and the comfort of their bedding eventually lulls him into a dreamless sleep.

-----

AN - I’m wrapping up the next chapter (currently rewatching the films for reference - my dumb self forgot about the whole ~arkenstone~ thing...oops).

#greater than gold #durin family #durin family feelings #yooooo #look guys i'm alive

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reflections-in-tea-cups · 5 years

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Shadow

tw: pet death

We lost our beautiful, lively, shy, affectionate, panther of a house cat on Monday, March 25, 2019. While I hope the details of the past month fade from my memory, I know some of you are shocked at the news and want to know what happened. This story is still too painful to retell, so I’m putting it here.

It’s a long story with a tragic end. It’s not my best writing, but editing it further is beyond me right now.

Shadow came into our lives on Feb. 13th, 2015. We went to the animal shelter to look at a dog – instead, we came home with an eight-year-old black cat. We thought he was a gentle old man, but as soon as he stepped out of the crate we realized they had sent us home with a panther. He was thirteen pounds of pure muscle, and the first thing he did was jump up six feet to hide on the top shelf of my closet.

Despite his size and athleticism, he was incredibly gentle and shy. He hid under the bed the first two weeks that he spent with us, only coming out after lots of cajoling. Even then, he’d often stop just at the edge of the bed so we could reach in and pet him. Once he was comfortable with us, he’d throw himself at our feet for pets and scritches, rolling around so we could get at his belly. He was always deferential to our resident female cat, despite having at least three pounds on her. He was playful and sweet, jumping up walls to catch at laser lights and crawling under the covers for morning snuggles. You always knew what his favorite toy was, as he’d leave it next to (or, more commonly, in) his food dish.

I’m not sure when he stopped eating. He still cried for food every morning and night, and he still went to the bowl and began lapping it up. We noticed that there was more wet food being left over, but that happens sometimes and it usually isn’t a problem – maybe one or both cats don’t care for that flavor of wet food, or maybe they got tired of it, or maybe they’re eating less because everyone is less active in winter. They always had access to dry food, so I didn’t worry.

I was shocked when I picked him up in late February and realized I could feel his bones. He was always a healthy, muscular cat – but suddenly he felt frail and old. Concerned, I made an vet appointment; the soonest available was two weeks away. Luck was on our side, and I got a call a few days later saying they could see us March 8th.

At the vet, we found our healthy-at-thirteen-pounds boy was now under ten. Blood work showed signs of pancreatitis, dehydration, and anemia. X-rays didn’t find anything surprising, just an empty stomach. He got anti-nausea meds, pain meds, and fluids. They sent us back home with some prescription food, instructions to monitor his food and water intake, and a blood recheck appointment set up for a week later.

His appetite increased for a few days. He still wasn’t eating enough to gain any weight, but any progress was hopeful. But by Wednesday (the 13th) he was back to barely eating anything and I called and got him an appointment for the next day. The 14th was terrifying – his weight had continued to drop, and as had his red blood cell count. They recommended hospitalization for IV fluids and medication, and to monitor his eating. I cried signing the papers to leave him there for the day.

When I went to pick him up that night, they said he hadn’t really improved and they recommended overnight hospitalization. Our vet isn’t a 24 hour clinic, so that involved transferring him to a local emergency vet. The ER vet reassured us that pancreatitis is often treated by a few days of pushing fluids, so we should remain hopeful. She also offered to do an ultrasound on his abdomen, to further look for anything else that could be causing his symptoms. No one really knew why he was so anemic, but maybe the ultra sound would see if/where he was bleeding internally.

After a sleepless night, the ER vet called to tell us Shadow had done well – they’d gotten him to eat a little, and the ultra sound hadn’t found anything too alarming or conclusive. The only thing they noted was an enlarged lymph node. We were told another day of hospitalization would be ideal, but we might be able to take him home that night. It was with a much lighter heart that we brought him back to our regular vet, giving them the overnight report and excited to get our healthy boy back soon.

However, our rollercoaster took a sudden dive. The vet reported that he hadn’t eaten and had only gotten more lethargic as the day progressed. The next diagnostic step they recommended was exploratory surgery, during which they would also insert a feeding tube so we could ensure he was getting the calories he needed. At this point, they were very worried he was about to enter liver failure from starvation.

We decided to go ahead with the surgery, which was scheduled for the next morning. We took him home that night for lots of cuddles – lapped up our affection all night. He was so happy to be back in his familiar environment, and our other cat also made it clear she was thrilled he was home.

Taking him to the vet the next morning was a tense affair. After finally being home, he wanted nothing to do with his cat carrier and let us know it. Three hours later I got a call from the vet – he’d done very well in surgery and was waking up comfortably! They had a new diagnosis based on the state of his liver and gall-bladder: feline triaditis. While they did take a couple biopsies, they were pretty confident we were on the right track. They said the prognosis was good but the at-home care would be intensive; not only were we responsible for his calorie intake through the feeding tube until he began to eat again, but there were also five medications that needed to be given once or twice a day. They still hadn’t found a source for the anemia, but hoped it would recoup with everything else.

We were thrilled to bring him home and dedicated to getting him back up to health. His food was specially prepared each day and given to him 4-5 times daily. He had to be quarantined from our other cat and dog for a while, so he was confined to the spare bedroom. Within three days, he was starting to eat on his own and was feisty enough to try and escape to the rest of the apartment whenever I opened the door. His stitches were healing well, and we got a onesie for him to wear instead of the hated cone (not that he liked it much better). The vet checked in that Monday, and was almost as excited as I was to hear how well he was doing. We started letting him explore the rest of the apartment with Leira and Kenai when we were home to monitor him, so he got more stimulation and got to hang out in all his favorite spots. Everything was looking up.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last. On Friday (the 22nd) I noticed that his eating was declining. We had just gotten him up to full calories through the feeding tube, so I figured it would take a while for his appetite to surpass what we were giving him. However, his appetite didn’t pick back up, and he began showing increased signs of nausea when I fed him. He also felt unusually warm. On Monday I called the vet, and left a message asking if this was normal recovery behavior. I spent the afternoon at home with him, waiting for the vet to call. They didn’t, so I called and asked again that evening – this time someone went back to talk to the vet in person. We were advised to take him to ER.

We went back to the ER where he had been hospitalized just ten days before. After a quick physical exam (where we saw he had lost even more weight, and he was feverish), they took him back for more bloodwork. He was extraordinarily anemic – his red blood cell count had decreased by half from its previous low levels. We could take him to a clinic that could do a blood transfusion – the nearest one was an hour away by car, and he’d have to stay there for at least 24 hours to make sure his body didn’t reject the blood. And since we didn’t know what was causing the anemia, it was likely the transfusion would only buy us a little time.

The next diagnostic step would be to test a sample of his bone marrow, a process that would involve putting him under anesthesia. There were three main suspects for his anemia at this point: a virus attacking his red blood cells and/or bone marrow, an autoimmune disorder (his body attacking his red blood cells), or cancer. We were advised that was a toss of the dice whether or not it was something treatable; even if it was, it would be extremely intensive and difficult for him.

We took some time to hold him close and think about our options. His options. For the last few weeks (and the last four years) we had discussed always trying to do what was best for him. And as he fell asleep in my arms, that most difficult choice became clear.

The vet told us we could take him home overnight if we wanted, but it we weren’t going to do a transfusion we should bring him back within 24 hours to put him to sleep. I didn’t want him to go through two more car rides (his most hated activity) and what would clearly be a painful and stressful night – we decided it would be best to let him go peacefully that night. He’d had a good day cuddling on the couch with me, Leira, and Kenai (one of the rare times I actually got a picture of him and the dog together). Luis and I held him for at least an hour, telling him we loved him and soaking in his sweetness. Finally we knew we couldn’t delay any longer. Luis held me and I held Shadow as the vet administered the anesthesia, lulling him into sleep for the last time.

Shadow was so much more than we ever could have expected. I’ll never be able to describe him adequately, or what he meant to us. We will miss him forever, and cherish the time we did get to spend with him.

#pet death #shadow

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junker-town · 4 years

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A Q&A with Bucks guard Pat Connaughton during quarantine

A Q&A with Pat Connaughton of the Milwaukee Bucks.

A Q&A with the Milwaukee Bucks guard as the NBA season has been paused indefinitely over the coronavirus pandemic.

Six weeks ago, Milwaukee Bucks guard Pat Connaughton was coasting through the fifth year of his career as a rotation player on one of the best teams in NBA history. He’d just competed in the NBA’s Slam Dunk Contest, and had a story about his real estate development company published in the New York Times.

Today, as Covid-19’s rampant sweep across the United States has placed the rest of the 2019-20 season in jeopardy, there’s a chance Connaughton — a free agent this offseason — has already played his last game with the Bucks.

Most people have been forced to adjust to a different lifestyle. That includes this 27-year-old NBA player who would otherwise be preparing for a playoff run, while fulfilling his second career in different ways than he currently can.

In a wide-ranging phone interview with SB Nation on Monday, Connaughton opened up about free agency, why it’s important for professional athletes to prepare for life after retirement, Giannis Antetokounmpo’s future in Milwaukee, the Netflix series Tiger King, and so much more.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

SB NATION: I’ll begin with a question I find myself asking just about everyone I talk to these days: How are you staying safe? And, did you consider traveling home once the NBA allowed its players to do so, or just bunker down and stay put?

PAT CONNAUGHTON: I stayed in Milwaukee. I tried to look at it from a variety of different angles. For me, I’m from the Boston area and Massachusetts was arguably hit worse than the majority of other places, so going home didn’t really make sense for me, for my own health but also for the safety of my family.

We’re fortunate to be in the NBA. We might as well stay close to our team just in case, God forbid something does happen and we need access to doctors, we have team doctors. If we need access to food for some reason, the chefs are trying to help us out when they can. There’s different things that I think teams are doing to help their players that stick around.

I also wanted to do my best to stay in shape, and when the facility shut down I was able to work with some of our strength staff to get some free weights into my apartment, to get a bike, to at least have some workouts that I can do outside, running up hills near the lakefront where I live, things of that nature so that I can keep myself sane.

SB: What’s been the biggest difference for you, going from the 100 miles per hour schedule you were on as an in-season NBA player to just shutting everything down as quickly as you did?

PC: I really do believe it’s a simulation of retirement. Obviously guys still want to stay in shape and work out because basketball will be back at some point in time, but it is a mini simulation of it. Our working careers end by 35, 40, if you’re fortunate, so you’ve still got 35, 40 years of life, and what are you doing day in and day out?

For me, I love doing different things with real estate. I try to work with my best friend who’s our project manager who lives with me out here in Milwaukee, we’re working on ‘Hey, how can we grow the real estate company?’ It’s similar to what I do in basketball, learning from Giannis on a daily basis. How can I use the same competitive skill-set in the business world during this time off, because when the ball does stop bouncing I still want to have another successful career in another field.

SB: How about your daily schedule. I’m just curious how you’re filling spare time, being that I’m sure you have even more of it now with the season on hold.

PC: I wake up, I’ll scramble some eggs, cook some bacon, have a few pieces of toast, yogurt, smoothie, whatever it might be. I’ll then workout, whether it’s outside, inside, bike, weights, whatever I have access to, however creative I can be. By that time I’ll have lunch, and while I’m having lunch I’ll check my emails. I’ll check some of the work stuff I’m doing as far as the business outside of basketball for a few hours, do some stuff there.

By that time it’s probably dinnertime. We’ve been making dinner at home. Tacos. Homemade pizzas. Ramen noodles. We’re fortunate: My best friend’s fiancee also is with us and she’s a little bit more expertise in the kitchen than we are, but we’re learning.

At night, it’ll vary. Sometimes we’ll watch Billions. I’m a huge Billions fan. I’m catching up on it now because the new season is coming out in May. We checked out Tiger King. Some nights we’ll play video games. We’ll play NHL. I grew up with all hockey players. I was the only basketball player, so I didn’t have a choice on learning how to play hockey video games, now I actually enjoy it. Sometimes we’ll watch a movie. Sometimes I’ll read a book before bed. So I think it kind of varies depending the night, but before you know it, it’s 9, 10 o’clock, and if I want to try to continue to simulate what it’s going to be post retirement to get a feel for it, then I try my best to get to bed at a reasonable hour, get up in the morning and do it all again.

Photo by Michael J. LeBrecht II/NBAE via Getty Images

SB: I will never forgive myself if I don’t ask this super-serious followup question, but what were your thoughts on Tiger King?

PC: [Laughs] I was a huge fan of seeing the tigers, the lions, the ligers, the animals. Those things fascinate me. I used to watch The Lion Whisperer on Youtube. There’s this guy who is out with wild lions, in Africa or wherever they live, and he’ll just go up to them and they love him. So I’ve always been fascinated by the size of them, the size of their heads, the size of their paws. Actually the background on the lock screen on my phone is a lion. So I loved that.

As far as the personal life of my man Joe Exotic and some of the characters in it, I was a little bit puzzled. My facial reactions were a little bit, like, giggle-worthy, as my buddy and his fiancee said. They’d look at me when something was happening and I’d look at the screen like ‘what the heck is going on?’ Never in my life would I have sat down to watch that otherwise, so I think that’s all part of the experience. I’ll look back on this hopefully in five, 10 years and be like ‘Hey remember that pandemic we went through? Yeah, remember that show we watched with that guy who got put in jail, and there was that other lady who might’ve fed her husband to a tiger?’

SB: I could honestly ask you one million questions about Tiger King but I think it’s best for everyone if we move on to topics that actually matter. We don’t know when or if the season will come back, but how difficult do you think it’ll be to ramp your body back into game shape? There’s really nothing that can perfectly simulate what an NBA game is like. Does that concern you?

PC: Not for me, personally. I don’t think there’s any way to simulate game shape, but the ironic part about that is every offseason there’s also no way to simulate game shape, so in reality that’s not really a big difference, in my opinion. I’m more concerned about not having access to a gym. I can’t go into the facility. We’re not allowed to go into public gymnasiums. Unless you’re a guy who has a personal court in your house or live in nice weather and can shoot around in your driveway ... I’ve got a few balls in my house and I’m dribbling around but I’m sure the people below me and to the side of me aren’t thrilled about the dribbling that goes on at night, you know what I mean? I think that is something that will be on my radar as the season comes back around.

The in-shape thing, some of the workouts that I do, I’m laying on the ground dead afterwards. And as far as I’m concerned every time I’ve run up and down a court and played in a game I’ve never ended up laying on the ground in the locker room afterwards, like, purely exhausted. So I think the in-shape stuff, I can mitigate that worry, but I think the skill-related stuff, shooting, that’s something you’re gonna have to focus on a little bit more, pending when and if [the season] comes back.

SB: Is there anything the Bucks have communicated with you to try and combat that?

PC: When I think about what I can do, I think back to when I wasn’t in a gym every single day as a kid. We weren’t allowed to be. You had practice two, three, four times a week, depending on how many teams you were on. You weren’t necessarily in a basketball gym for hours upon hours every single day. Especially for me, playing baseball. I just think about the stuff that I used to do around the house. Dribble the ball around until my mom yelled at me. Lay in bed and shoot the ball up in the air, like you saw Pistol Pete do in that movie or whatever it was. Simple things like that to just keep your feel of the basketball at least somewhat normal.

SB: How did you find out the season was suspended and what was your first reaction?

PC: I was sitting in my apartment, actually just finished making tacos with my buddy and his fiancee. We were playing the Celtics the next day, and I was on League Pass waiting to watch the Oklahoma City Thunder and the Utah Jazz game. And it never came on. So we were like ‘when was the last time an NBA game didn’t tip off at tip-off time?’

So we went straight to Twitter, and for the next two hours we were watching Twitter as if it was the night of the NBA Draft, back when [Adrian Wojnarowski] used to drop the tweets before the draft picks came out. We might as well have thrown the Twitter feed of my phone up on the TV screen and just watched it that way because it was just fascinating.

I was just kind of like ‘this is wild.’ I didn’t think much about it at the start, as far as, this could end the season or anything that drastic. I was just like ‘wow this is having a serious effect on this one game.’ And then the Pelicans never even started their game and the Mavs finished their game, and we were supposed to play the next night? Will they [cancel] another game? The Celtics had just played the Jazz, so we kind of thought that our game wasn’t gonna last, but we didn’t get the official word for no shootaround until later on that night. And then we didn’t get the word about no games until the next day.

It was just kind of fascinating how quickly it unfolded, and how the NBA was ahead of everything. The NBA honestly set the precedent, in my opinion, for not just the rest of the sports world, but almost the rest of the world itself, to start taking this thing seriously.

SB: It’s hard to think about where we would be in this country had Rudy Gobert never tested positive, and we’re still so far behind.

PC: We’re far behind as far as the world is concerned. As a sports league, we were ahead of where the U.S. was, which is wild and scary to think about.

SB: Being part of such a special season with the Bucks, how often do you think about the possibility that the season is over, and how you might never get an opportunity to finish what you started? How difficult would that be, given all the hard work that was put in and what the expectations were?

PC: It’s tough because you look at it from a few different lenses. You think seasons like this don’t come along every year, so if it ends that’s gonna suck. To be honest. But when you look at it from the lens of an athlete you’re like we, as a team, are very good. What is preventing us from doing it again next year? Obviously we would be disappointed, we’re having a great year, etc. But maybe it just makes us hungrier next year. Maybe it’s fuel on the fire, as opposed to something else. Giannis will be a year older, a year more skilled. We’ll all be getting better. If you look at it that way you can throw some positive light to it.

The other light you look at it, just being open and honest, there are guys that are on contract years. There are guys that, I mean, personally I don’t have a technical contract for next year or anything. So you look at it like how does it affect free agency? How does it affect the salary cap? What does our team look like next year if the season were to end and not continue, and the playoffs weren’t to happen and there weren’t a champion to be crowned. I think all of those are unknown.

I could sit here for 24 straight hours and put down a sheet of paper, pros, cons, all these different scenarios, but I don’t think that does me any good. We don’t know. Nobody knows. The NBA is full of much smarter people than myself. Adam Silver is great. The owners are all very smart guys. The general managers are very smart guys. Obviously the player’s union, Michelle. Chris Paul. All them are very smart. I believe the best interest of as many players as possible and all the teams and the league itself will be what’s most important and what will be accomplished. So for me to worry about those sorts of things, sure, but at the same time it’s not gonna help me. I’m not gonna figure out, sitting in this apartment in the next month and a half, what the answers are.

Michael McLoone-USA TODAY Sports

SB: I wanted to ask you about being a free agent this offseason, and, as you said, we don’t know what will happen to the cap but there’s a chance it drops, given the hundreds of millions of dollars in revenue that will be lost — which could limit the amount of money teams are able or willing to pay. Respective of your own situation, I’m sure you’ve thought about that, and then also the idea that you might’ve played your last game with the Bucks. How difficult is it to cope with such an uncertain future?

PC: I definitely think about it but in the most simplistic terms. That’s one of the reasons I’ve always made sure I do other things outside of basketball. I’m not saying it’s because my basketball career is about to end, I’m just saying my dream was always to play in the NBA. Would I like to make a lot of money playing in the NBA? Absolutely. But if the cap gets affected there’s nothing I can do about it.

I want to continue to play in the NBA. I want to continue to be part of the Milwaukee Bucks as a championship contender, and I want to continue to help my team eventually win a championship, two, three, four, whatever it is. What my contract looks like while I’m doing that? If it was more money and more guaranteed years, absolutely, I’d love that. But as long as I’m here, as long as I’m playing, as long as I’m doing my job to continue to be an NBA player, a dream that I wanted to accomplish since I was a kid, it’s quite possible I make more money outside of basketball than I do in basketball when it’s all said and done.

The way that I’m trying to set up the real estate venture, the way that I’m trying to set up business outside of basketball, with, hopefully the relationships that I’ve built and will continue to build while I’m involved in the NBA, hopefully there’s a career after basketball. Maybe it’ll definitely be real estate, but maybe there’s something else. Maybe there’s a consulting role. Maybe there’s a front office role. Maybe there’s a league role. Maybe there’s something else for me because I don’t put all my chips in one basket. I can only control what I can control but I think the way that I’m setting up my life will at least allow me to have some flexibility as far as making money in the future, and continuing to play in the NBA for, hopefully, 10, 15 years.

SB: How has this pandemic impacted Beach House LLC, your real estate development company?

PC: We have a few job sites here in Milwaukee, we’ve got one that’s still moving forward. We got permission from the city because it’s right next to another building so for safety reasons they want us to make sure we get the foundation in and get some things there so it’s not just sitting as an open hole throughout this time. So I try to go by it once a day.

The name [Beach House LLC] might be changing soon, but one of our goals with real estate development is to mitigate risk. We’re trying to find distressed properties, we’re trying to find land, we’re trying to find things that we can create value in. My dad is a general contractor, I’ve been around it. So it’s not your typical real estate investments where you’re just investing in a property and banking on everybody that’s paying rent to at least cover the mortgage and give you a little bit of a return. We’re doing that but we’re doing it after we’re developing, fixing up or renovating a property. So in reality we’re kind of on both sides. We’re creating value in the property so the appreciation grows quicker, faster, more. And then we’re holding onto the asset and trying to cash flow it so it’s also making some money year after year. But in the long term, in the 10-year window, in the 15-year window, that’s when it really starts to make money.

I think as a professional athlete, the reason others have gotten involved is because we’re fortunate to have another source of income. How do you use that income to set up another source of income when that other source of income falls off? Aka, when your career is over, is there a way to utilize the money you’ve made in this career to set up another, arguably equal or close to equal, source of income afterwards. I think that’s kind of our goal with this.

In the short term, does [coronavirus] have an effect? Yeah, potentially. Does it also have an effect where you’re able to buy some property because prices drop? Potentially. I don’t really know how it’s going to fully affect it but in general it continues to go up over long periods of time. I think that’s what gives us an advantage in that world.

SB: Why change the name?

PC: I want it to reflect the story behind it. Beach House was an LLC that my father had for a house that he did back in Florida, way back when. I’d like to put it in something that shows athletes in business, something that’s unique about this actual story, because at the end of the day, if I’m able to do what I want to do in the business world I think it will be a unique story.

My main goal is, after seeing the 30 for 30, Broke, to shed some light, get some professional athletes involved [or] give them advice even if they don’t want to be involved and kind of help change the stigma that professional athletes go broke after their careers because they don’t know how to manage their money during, and shortly after.

SB: Have other players reached out for advice or even made requests to get involved over the past few weeks?

PC: I’d say a few have. I wouldn’t say as many as you’d think with all the time on our hands, but that’s also partly because I haven’t reached out to anyone either. What I’d like to do during this time is really think about what is that next growth for the real estate development company. We have five to 10 [professional athletes] involved in a number of different projects that we’ve done, so those are great one-off projects.

What is the next growth for my company? Is it raising a fund, or getting a bunch of guys together at a certain dollar amount? Is it trying to incorporate the pro athletes that I have with some of the businessmen that I’ve known and put them together for a fund or partnership where there’s a surplus of money, and now I’m going out, developing, buying, doing different things so that when one of the players in the NBA comes to town to play the Milwaukee Bucks next year, they’re able to go by the job site that we’re doing, and they’re able to see how it’s being built. They can see it in person and say ‘Hey, I own that.”

What is that next growth step for the company? That’s kind of what I’ve been utilizing my time and energy on during this hiatus, and hopefully in the next week or two I’ll have that answer and I’ll start to put something together for it. I’ll start to reach out to some players, or field some calls from some players and try to start to make it a bigger operation. Make it a bigger business.

SB: Are you mainly focused on properties in Milwaukee or looking to expand in the future?

PC: Location is the most important thing in real estate, so I want to expand to different areas. It’s just going to depend on the location in those different areas. I have two buildings, one that’s being built and one that’s gonna start being built in a few months around Notre Dame. I obviously know that area really well. We were able to get locations that are right near campus. You can probably hit a driver off your porch to campus.

There could be some similar growth in the future for the company. Some of the projects [Portland Trail Blazers guard CJ McCollum] is involved in, there’s no reason we couldn’t do a similar model around Lehigh. He’s obviously the biggest name to come from Lehigh in the professional sports world, so there’s no reason we can’t do some of those things. Those are the business ideas I love thinking about. But in the short term it’s about areas that we know and areas we have influence in and can get to relatively easily. We’re not locked to one city, is the short version of that answer.

Jeff Hanisch-USA TODAY Sports

SB: Circling it back to your playing career now, you competed in your first NBA Slam Dunk contest at All-Star Weekend last month. What was going through your head when the judges gave you a 45 after your first dunk?

PC: Honestly, I was ... that’s a great question. I don’t think I was as appalled at the time as a lot of people that I know. Did I think it could’ve been a little higher? Absolutely. But I wasn’t necessarily outraged, like, I like to think I’m pretty realistic. I like to think I’m relatively humble. That was my first dunk in an NBA dunk contest ever in my life. I was happy that I got it down on the first try, pulled off the White Man Can’t Jump thing pretty well, and then been able to share that moment with [Milwaukee Brewers outfielder Christian Yelich] and Giannis and Khris [Middleton] and Thanasis [Antetokounmpo] and my teammates. I thought it was pretty cool, so I was less concerned about one of the eights that could’ve been a nine. And by one of them I mean the only eight that could’ve been a nine. But that’s neither here nor there.

SB: Speaking of Giannis, you’ve been his teammate for a while and have a good relationship with him. With his upcoming free agency being one of the larger stories in the sport, do you ever talk about whether he’ll stay or go, or does it not really come up?

PC: It’s something I would talk about with him. We’re close enough friends where we definitely could. And I think our team is so close and so great as far as talking about things other than basketball, and business, and world issues, social issues. Kyle Korver brings a great element to those sorts of things. I think we have a very close knit team in our locker room.

I think sometimes it gets brought up randomly in passing and things like that, but I think at the end of the day, for us, it’s not as big of a deal as it is for the rest of the world. Obviously the city of Milwaukee, the team, everyone wants Giannis to be here forever. But Giannis has put himself in a position to provide for his family from growing up with nothing in Greece, and I don’t think you can fault Giannis for whatever decision he ends up making, that he believes is the best decision for him, his family, the people who are closest to him.

I’ll support him regardless of what he does, and I think the entire team will support him regardless of what he does. I think we’re building something pretty cool in Milwaukee so that will play a role, but it’s his decision and all of us will support what he does, whenever that decision comes to light.

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