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mistyresolve · 1 month

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| His Foresight - Simon "Ghost" Riley X

Medic!Reader (Part 7)

Word Count - 4.7K

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Slow Burn. This chapter describes scenes that some people may find disturbing, such as war crimes, mutilation, and death.

A/N - This chapter is tuff ngl.

Part 1 ❤︎ Part 2 ❤︎ Part 3 ❤︎ Part 3.5 ❤︎ Part 4 ❤︎ Part 5 ❤︎ Part 6

Masterlist ❤︎

“Better,” Ghost said from somewhere at your side, his attention divided by watching you practice your throwing knife skills and cleaning his rifle, “But stop flicking your wrist, it’s unnecessary.”

Since you arrived here Ghost had dedicated a surprising amount of time to teaching you how to throw a knife. Your aim was still off and you had the occasional miss, but you were improving. He’s had you standing in front of the piece of wood for the last hour throwing the knives he’s so graciously let you borrow, picking them up and doing it all over again. He was a good teacher, but a tough one. Not even you could be spared from his hazing lectures of form and technique. And on more than one occasion you stomped off on him in frustration, only to sheepishly return after some time to restart after cooling off.

You glanced over your shoulder at him, your expression bored, “Are you even watching?”

“Yes. Now, throw,” he instructed, dark eyes flicking up to you, and when he saw that you were still looking at him he twirled his finger in a “turn” gesture.

With a sigh, you turn back around and aim at the center of the target painted into a wooden board. You lined yourself up, your tongue instinctively sticking out, a habit you had since you were a child when in focus, and threw the blade. The handle banged off the board and clanged to the ground.

“I just told you to stop flicking your wrist,” he commented as he slid ammo into one of his magazines.

You spun on him, annoyance twinging your tone “You come over here and throw one.”

He placed the magazine on the table beside him and strode towards you with a confidence you envied, plucked the blade right out of your hand and threw it. It embedded itself deep into the wood. Right in the middle. He held his hand out for another. Again, it landed in the middle with a satisfying thud. Impressively close to the first. He threw two more and only one of them wasn’t a bullseye instead it landed in the next ring.

You clicked your tongue, “Alright,” you pushed him back towards his guns and ammo, “Go away.”

For the last two days, it’s done nothing but storm, and everyone has taken shelter in the warehouse where there was still a working heater. But now that the nightly meeting and dinner had been served, everyone was headed back for the bunks for the night. The emotions have been running high the last few days and the weather was making it even harder to get things done. Soap was trying his best to keep up morale, but even he grew weary of waiting. Price and Gaz had gone on recon today to check out the town and came back with the news that the military was pulling out. Laswell was less than thrilled to have the entire team invading her space while she tried to work.

She, out of all of you, felt the pressure the most.

Tonight it was your turn to take the night watch, and Ghost stayed behind until midnight to keep you company. He even went on the few patrols he was with you for, “You never talk about your family,” Ghost clutched at his rifle as he strolled beside you, purposefully shortening his stride so you could keep up.

“Well, I could say the same about you,” you knock your shoulder into him, trying to come off as playful but in truth the last thing you wanted to do was unpack the fuckery that was your family.

“That’s because I’ve got skeletons in my closet,” he shrugged, seemingly nonchalant about it. You’ve become accustomed to his casual attitude; where normal people would become skittish with that type of admission, he wasn’t.

You hummed, inching closer to him. Even in the rain his body heat radiating from him.

“Well,” you started, chewing on the inside of your cheek as unease rippled through your gut, “My parents divorced when I was sixteen. My mother is the kindest woman I’ve ever met. She used to take me to the theatres every Sunday for the matinee.”

“And your father?” He asked carefully, sensing your hesitation on the matter. His attention was on you but he made it less intense by looking off into the darkened shadows of the trees beyond the fences.

“He’s…” your throat narrowed at the memory of him, of his hardened face and emotionless eyes, “He’s the worst man I’ve ever met. And I was his favourite,” you wrung your fingers, the tips of them going numb from the cold air, “He’s estranged now and I haven’t heard from since the divorce.” A lie. You knew exactly where and what he was doing. You also knew he kept a close eye on you and yours. “My mom has since remarried. To a guy she went to high school with, it’s quite adorable,”

“Any siblings?” He asked as he opened the door to the warehouse for you. He didn’t push for more information, understanding that were some things better left unsaid.

“Two,” your heart skipped a beat, “Both significantly older. But one of them died when I was in high school. A car accident,” you didn’t give any more detail than that. Didn’t think you could handle dredging up old wounds.

You silently thanked Simon for not giving you a half-hearted “I’m sorry” at the mention of your dead brother.

You told him about your childhood friends, and about the sports you played. You told him about how your brothers used to have epic fights in the backyard, and how one of them had ended with your father making them run laps at the track until one of them collapsed and the other threw up all over the grass.

Ghost quietly listened, adding little comments here and there. He just liked hearing you talk and would sit here for hours completely content with doing just that.

As soon as the clock struck twelve a yawn interrupted him mid-sentence and you sent him off to bed.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll keep out of trouble. But you were up last night for your watch, you need to sleep,” you shooed him out the door. Before stepping out the door he turned to you, bending down to catch your lips with his. It was a quick, innocent gesture, and the boyish grin of his that accompanied it was even more so.

The rest of the night was fairly tame, but your raincoat never seemed to dry and you were forever cold. Gaz had pulled out a space heater at some point but even that couldn’t seem to thaw your frozen bones and muscles. What you really wanted was a hot shower. Or even better, a bath. You’d grown weary of the cold showers.

The silence and isolation of the night watch were welcomed. It gave you time to think and to work through your ever-flowing thoughts and emotions. You were beginning to wonder what comes after this. If you were labelled as deserters, would they just “let” you get back to your normal job once you exposed Spector? There were so many questions and you were too afraid to find out what the answers would be. Would anyone even believe you guys?

You spent the rest of the night trying to distract yourself before you found yourself spiralling. You reorganized the makeshift kitchen area, sewed a rip in your jacket pocket, and read the first few chapters of a particularly boring book Gaz had brought with him. You had quickly become thankful for the hourly strolls outside.

“What are you doing up?” You asked, setting your rifle down, having done a patrol. It was a little past 4 am when you returned to find Soap lounging on one of the chairs at the makeshift table.

His cheery blue eyes found yours, “Thought I’d come and keep you company.”

“Couldn’t sleep?” you took a seat across from him, fiddling with a propane lamp before lighting it.

He yawned and stretched out his arms above him, “Have you been able to?”

You shook your head. Truth is, you haven’t had a good sleep since you got blown up. You grabbed a deck of cards someone had left on the table for everyone to use, “You shuffle,” you said, handing it to him. With practiced hands, he shuffled and dealt out a hand of canasta.

He won the first round, and he sighed, “One more game, I’m starting to feel bad for you.”

“Laswell find anything?” you asked. Laswell had left to meet up with one of her contacts and wasn’t going to be coming back until tomorrow.

“Not really,” he scratched at the growing beard on his face, and exchanged a card from his hand, “She’s stressing. So is Price.”

“I don’t blame them,” you murmured. If you were going to ask anyone and not fear that they’d think you a doormat, you were going to ask Soap, “Are we still going to have our jobs once we figure all this out?”

He blinked at you, “Our job?” then his expression softened in realization. You’d been uncharacteristically recluse these last few days and everyone had noticed it. And Soap was just relieved to have finally understood why that was, “When we find that bastard Spectator and pull his pants down in front of the brasses we’ll be handed medals.” He leaned back in his chair and it creaked against his weight, “There are, of course, probably going to be some legal measures that will need to be addressed, but when are there not? A few years back we were being hunted down by every allied force for ‘espionage’.” He rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of the idea. “We’ve got our hands tied behind our backs a few times, and yet they haven’t gotten rid of us.”

The looming misery that had been breathing down your neck for the last few weeks backed off at his answer.

“That makes this a little less stressful,” You wished there was more you could do, but none of this was your specialty. “You want tea?” the chill you developed from your patrols was becoming unbearable. You got up to heat up water in a pot on the propane stove before he could answer.

“Absolutely,” he replied.

You turned back towards him just in time to catch him trying to peek at your cards, “Are you joking?” you threw up your hands in disbelief. You’ve played a lot of cards with Soap in the last two weeks, and never once did you win against him. Now you know why. You tossed a tea bag at him.

He slid back into his seat with a sheepish grin.

“I’m not making you tea anymore,” you glowered over at him, “You can make your own.”

You cracked open the door to take a peek outside. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, the ground sodden with water. It smelt like fresh earth. An hour later Ghost joined the two of you, claiming that Price was snoring so loud that he woke up thinking someone was attacking him with a chainsaw. Soap asked if he cared for a game of cards to which he curtly replied with a very stern, very definitive “No, you little crook.”

After a brief discussion, you and Ghost decided it would be as good a time as ever to check in on the town. He wanted to scope it out to see if the military had pulled out yet. You wanted to check in on the school.

The drive into the town was silent, the pit of your stomach was turned inside out. Your intuition screamed at you that something was wrong.

Thick fog clung to the trees and made the drive more unsettling.

A strange pungent smell invaded the cab of the truck a few miles back from the town. It smelt like smoke and something else you couldn’t place a finger on. The smell got stronger and stronger the closer you got, to the point where you shoved your nose into the collar of your shirt.

“Ugh,” your eyes began to water, “What is that?”

A large dark form lay on the side of the road as you turned a corner and Ghost slowed the vehicle, his hand dropping to the pistol at his thigh.

So he feels the unease too.

That thought alone was alarming.

As you rolled forward confusion clouded your thoughts. The corpse of a horse was left in the ditch. Its brown coat stained darker in some spots—with dried blood. From the looks of it, this happened days ago.

“They killed off all their livestock,” Ghost grumbled, his attention fixed on something ahead of us. You followed his gaze. The herd of cows he passed every day we drove into town was left to rot in one of the fields surrounding the town. Their bodies are already half-decomposed. In their state, it was obvious this occurred days ago.

“Isn’t this a war crime?”

He nodded, features hardening.

You wondered why no one had tried to dispose of them.

In fact, as you neared, there wasn’t anyone around. No passing cars or people walking their dogs.

As the town came into view, and the fog fell away from the buildings to could better make out the shapes hanging from the sign. You squinted, leaning forward. Your blood ran cold, “Riley–”

“I see it,” he grunted.

Three bodies hung from the town's welcome sign. The faces were mottle shades of blue and grey. Hands tied behind their back and feet bound together. Two men and one woman. They had died long after the cattle. Their clothes and hair remained dry, despite the last few days of rainfall.

Ghost nodded his head towards the woman, “That’s my informant's wife.”

If you hadn’t known him as well as you did you would have thought him indifferent to the sight but guilt lined the edges of his words.

You looked back to the women and your stomach rolled. Her neck bent at an unnatural angle, “Did–” you shook your head in disbelief, “Why would they do this?” It was hard to believe that the same army you fought for could do something like this. Something so animal.

Beside you, he didn’t answer. His eyes scanned the empty streets, finding nothing and no one.

“Take me to the school,” you breathed, worry piling up inside you.

He opened his mouth to say something, probably to argue but thought better of it.

He rolled to a stop just outside the school, his brows furrowing, “Are you sure you’ll be fine?”

You nodded, but you couldn’t find it within you to smile at him.

“You just need to click twice on your radio and I’ll be right back,” he was going to go check in on his informant. If his wife was dead, the probability that he was too was high.

He waited for you to enter the building before he pulled out and went on his way.

The school was desolate, no single child milled about. No teachers lined the halls. It was a school day, you were sure about that, yet no one was around.

You followed the now-familiar path to the classroom at the back of the school. Peaking into empty classrooms on the way there.

Your hands shook as you reached the door to the classroom, and eerie silence on the other side. You knocked but the door wasn’t shut properly and creaked open. The lights were off, and no voice answered from within as the sound of your approach. You swallowed the lump in your throat before pushing the door completely open.

The room was empty. Yesterday's date is still etched in chalk on the chalkboard.

Along with the angry rushed words, “Your sympathizers will be killed.”

You didn’t need to ask to know those words were meant for you. You looked around the room once more, searching for any sign of life. But the room was nearly spotless, there was no blood, no sign of a struggle. Textbooks and pencils still lay on the desks of the students, ready for their next lesson.

You picked up one of the books, examining it.

Something outside caught your attention, a flash of a silhouette as it rushed across the courtyard.

You peered out the window and into the courtyard in hopes of seeing who was out there.

The breath wooshed out of your lungs, and the textbook in your hand slipped from your grip. You didn’t even hear it fall.

Outside, hand-tied above their head to a wooden post was what was left of a female body. There wasn’t much left of her but the chard-blackened flesh. Gone was her scent of rosemary and pepper. Gone was her soft voice and youthful face.

A hand flew up to cover your mouth as bile rose up your throat.

The door behind you creaked open and you spun, hand going for your gun.

A small familiar figure appeared, her usually emotionless face tear-stained. When she caught sight of you her face contorted into one of distrust and hate.

It was the girl you had been helping heal the wound on her arm.

Then she was rushing at you, her slim fist slamming into your armoured chest, her voice cracking as she yelled up at you. She kicked her feet out at your shins and ankles. You couldn’t understand her but her face revealed what she was saying. There didn’t need to be a language barrier to know what she was calling you. What she was saying.

“This is your fault. You killed her. You’re a monster. A killer.”

There was no doubt that her screams would draw attention if anyone was still here. You covered her mouth, hushing her. She trashed against you, nails digging into the exposed skin on your wrists. Her feet stomped on yours.

Voices echoed down the hall and the both of you froze. Wide eyes connecting in dread. She stopped breathing entirely. You lifted a finger to your lips, prying she’d remain silent. Slowly and as quietly as you could you brought her to the windows, opened one of them and signalled for her to slide out. Her brows furrowed with skepticism but she obeyed.

I was the lesser of two evils in her eyes.

“Run,” you whispered to her, palming a throwing knife into her hand and she climbed out the window.

She didn’t turn back to look at you as she sprinted to the other side of the building. You watched as she hesitated before running past the brutalized body of her teacher. You watched her dip out of one of the many doors.

You tore yourself from the window and the scene beyond it, wishing you could at least cut her down from the post.

But there was someone else here.

You crept back out into the hallway, following the same route to the main foyer, trying to avoid the direction the voices came from.

Wrong.

At the end of the hallway were two men, their attire and the patches on the side of their arms making it obvious that weren’t here to be friendly. You considered ducking back behind the corner but they had already seen you. Their concealed faces snap towards you.

Your hand reached for this radio at your shoulder and clicked it twice.

“What are you doing here?” one of them called out, his head tilted to the side trying to get a better look at you. There was no way in hell you were going to get away with pretending to be a local. You were decked out in a bulletproof vest. Instinctively, your hand dipped for the pistol at your thigh but stopped short. They weren’t the enemy, they were here following orders.

You cleared your throat, “I was told to meet the lieutenant here,” you could only hope they didn’t ask for a name.

They shared a look, the postures stiffening, before turning back to you, “Lieutenant, Smithers left yesterday morning.”

Welp.

You pulled one of the knives Ghost had given you earlier this morning from its sheath, “I don’t want to have to hurt you,” you swore.

But it was too late, and this was going to be a short-lived fight. You were outnumbered and outmuscled. You could only hope you would be able to hold them off until Ghost got here.

The first one moved quickly, and you flung the blade in his direction. You were aiming for his throat but missed. It landed in his shoulder, which worked well in slowing him down but wasn’t going to put him out of this fight. The second one closed in on you, throwing a dangerous left hook that for sure would have knocked you out cold if you hadn’t sidestepped him, now behind him you kicked out at the back of his leg. His momentary loss of balance was enough for you to drive your knee up into his face. Bone cracked, and his nose immediately started spewing blood everywhere.

The first guy was still recovering from your knife, but he was still more than capable of doing major harm once he regained his composure.

Your fingers found the warm metal of the soldier dog tag and wrapped your fist around it, tugging at it until his gargled protest echoed. You grabbed for the second knife equipped at your chest.

An arm wrapped around your waist and you were being hauled up into the air and slammed into the wall behind you, knocking the wind out of you. You brought your elbow down in the soft spot between his shoulder and neck. Once. Twice. He let you go, driving his fist into your jaw. Your head snapped to the side and stars blossomed in the corners of your vision.

You grappled at your assailant for purchase, but you were already being yanked into the other soldier's arms, your hand twisted painfully behind you.

“Bitch,” he missed in your ear.

Your vision was swimming but your eyes landed on the blade still jutting out of the first guy's shoulder. You leaned your weight back, lifting your feet to kick the blade in again. The man stumbled back, screaming. You dropped your weight as fast and hard as you can, bringing the last guy down with you.

He was faster than you. Climbing on top of you, pressing into your back with a knee. His finger gripped at your scalp, bringing your head up only to smash it back into the ground. Again and again.

There was a bang that cracked through the air. And you waited for the searing pain that usually accompanied a bullet.

The heavy weight above you began to suffocate you, and you struggled for breath. A whimper escaped you.

There was the sound of a struggle somewhere above you but you couldn’t find the strength to so much as look up.

The weight was lifted off of you, and you came face to face with the unseeing, dead eyes of the soldier who was just bashing your face into the floor. Then you were being flipped and your eyes met familiar brown ones.

Alarm flashed across his face, “Shit. Can you walk?”, his arm slipped under and around you.

“Yes, I think,” You blinked up at him, your vision blurring. You wiped at your eyes, “I can’t see.”

“You’ve got blood everywhere,” Ghost hissed, shifting your weight onto him. The floor beneath your feet was slick and you fought to keep them under you. He nearly carried you to the truck before shoving you into the passenger seat. He was driving off before you could register where you were.

“Was it just them?” He asked, trying to keep his eyes on the road but they kept snapping over to you.

Your arms felt heavy and you slumped in your seat, “I didn’t see anyone else.”

He drove fast back down the road and out of the town. If there were two soldiers still here there was bound to be more. And he wasn’t going to stick around to find out.

He reached into the back to find something, anything for you to wipe the blood from your face. You weren’t sure which of it was yours and which of it was the now dead soldiers.

He found a plain white cotton shirt from his pack.

“You’ll never get the blood stains out,” you half joked as you wiped at your face.

“I’m not too attached,” he ground out but you could tell he wasn’t in the mood for jests right now.

“Did you find your informant?” you strained as you wound a particular sore spot above your brow. A break in the skin that would surely scar.

“He was dead.”

Nausea gripped your stomach and you weren’t sure if it was the signs of a concussion or because of the aftermath of what you’d seen at the school. Most likely both, “Riley,” you struggled, fingers finding the door handle, “Pull over.”

“What?”

Saliva flooded your mouth, “Pull over.”

He turned into the ditch, tossing you a concerned glance before he moved to open his door.

“Stay in the truck,” you ordered, before slipping out your door.

You were retching before your feet found the earth. You retched until you couldn’t anymore. Until your stomach was empty and your legs were useless.

He didn’t say a word when you stepped back into the truck, but his knuckles turned white in the steering wheel.

He handed you the bottled water from the cup holder and you rinsed your mouth out before speaking again, “We can’t involve any more civilians,” even to your ears you sounded defeated, “They will hunt them down. They did. They…called her a sympathizer,” you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. You told him of the school, and the message written on the chalkboard. You told him about the little girl and the teacher had to leave in the courtyard. “Did you informant know anything about the rest of us? Did he know I was at the school while you were with him?”

He stiffened, “No and yes. He wasn’t aware that anyone other than us two were on the run,”

We drove for another few hours before he turned off the road once more.

He was jumping out of the truck and reaching into the back seats before coming around to your side. His head was on a swivel, as he walked, looking for any signs that we had a tail. He opened your door, “We can’t go back to camp just yet,” he handed you your pack and placed his at his feet.

You had noticed that he was going in the complete opposite direction of the base a while back. Those soldiers knew we had been to that village, and they had been waiting for us to turn back up. There was still a chance they were following us, hoping we’d bring them back to everyone else.

“Agreed,”

“Dress in your civi’s,” he took out a fresh pair of jeans and a plain grey sweater, “The closest safe house isn’t as secure as the last,” He looked over your face and removed his vest, “I can stop on the way there and get you some ice for your face.”

Then he was shirtless, then he was nearly naked.

And too soon he was dressed again. His sweater pulled tights across his chest and shoulders. He looked even better in regular clothes than he did in his uniform. He moved to help you with your vest, the velcro a harsh sound in the silence. He helped you wiggle out of your shirt. You were sticky, cold, wet and with blood. He handed you a hoodie and waited for you to put it on before closing the door.

His Foresight - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎ @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes ❤︎ @adelaidai ❤︎ @ddioriez ❤︎ @johfaam0 ❤︎ @marytvirgin ❤︎ @stickygumchewer ❤︎ @lauraliisa ❤︎ @jungcoccc ❤︎ @lovelyladymayyyy ❤︎ @lululandd ❤︎ @chrissyfishywissy ❤︎ @naxxsstuff ❤︎ @sididakra-jo ❤︎ @yukisawer ❤︎ @q8852p ❤︎ @kat-nee ❤︎ @meganoreid ❤︎ @thewoodenarcade ❤︎ @kaghost ❤︎ @shadowcldx ❤︎@mymommmy ❤︎ @crunchlite ❤︎ @mychrysanthemums ❤︎ @xheera ❤︎ @lockleywife ❤︎ @ryethebrokengae ❤︎ @yellow-devil18 ❤︎ @tangledredstringsoffate ❤︎ @gingergirl06 ❤︎ @wwe1rdc0re

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #cod fanfic #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod ghost #ghost x reader

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journiland · 11 months

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11am: I'm doing pretty good, though the day seems sooo long. I'm a little tired, but I think it's more that I just am used to sleeping. It's not my usual so-tired-it-hurts tired. I've been doing stuff to stay awake (vs. just reading or watching TV), and I've got a crapload done. I've washed and dried 3.5 loads of laundry, and put away all but one (Vampire's asleep in the room with the dresser). I made a big batch each of stir-fry and egg roll filling "tv dinners" with leftover turkey, and a batch of low carb peanut butter cookies. (My back is complaining that it's not used to this amount of exertion.)

That's more than I usually do in a week, but it may just be the novelty of a new idea. If this does work, it will need to be repeated weekly.

2:30pm: I think I feel more awake now than I did all morning. Still have the urge to lie down/take a nap, though. Assembled a zucchini lasagna (for me) and a oven-ready-noodle lasagna (for everyone else) for dinner. They can hang out in the fridge until it's time to bake. I've been watching Criminal Minds off and on all day, but still doing active stuff in between.

I have a bit of a headache, but that might be because I had my coffee several hours late. Took an ibuprofen.

7:45pm: Headache gone. Vampire and I cleaned the church. I'm kinda just reading/TV now. Going to try to stay up at least until 11pm.

9:30pm: Getting pretty tired, but not painfully so....yet.

10:00pm: Getting restless legs, which I get when I'm overtired.

10:30pm: Wanted to hold out till midnight, but I'm going to bed. Legs driving me nuts. Hoping that was long enough.

#depression #partial sleep deprivation therapy

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amusementofaprincess · 2 years

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My weekend DID NOT GO TO PLAN.

The plan you ask? Friday, Saturday and Sunday- go to RI Comic Con.

Monday (today) - help my mom move

What did I do instead?

Friday - vomit everything I have ever eaten and then some more. Then from Midnight - 4 just kind of not stop.

Saturday 430am - go to the ER. Takes forever to be seen. Thank goodness for those blue/purple plastic tubes. They act like I’m dry heaving for dramatic effect. Pretty sure since I said the middle of my stomach hurt they thought I wanted drugs

I think around 730 they do a CT scan.

3.5 hours, many dry heaves and an embarrassing need for dry pants later - I see thr doctor and my nurse again. Literally haven’t seen the doctor since he looked at me 630am. Haven’t seen the nurse since he put in an iv, gave me zofran and left. (A different help with the embarrassing incident).

I have large abscess in my stomach and a perforation. They can’t do the surgery there (small hospital. Can handle like appendectomies ect. Not this) so I’m getting transferred to a large hospital in RI vis ambulance.

By 1pm I’m in RI getting prepped for Surgery. I had to get a CATHETER. And it was Terrible.

Now the timeline going forward is from my mom:

Surgery started around 2ish. Ended around 630.

I had a 3cm perforation that the surgeon said looked like it formed, accessed and oh yeah, nearly f***ing killed me in 24-48 hours.

Literally. If I had be slower going up I could have died.

My mom went home, I went to post op recovery for a while where I was in terrible pain and spiked a fever. (One is normal, pain was not cool)

Luckily my current hospital actually cares.

I was on a patient controlled pump - so it was great when I was awake. But if I fell asleep I stopped pushing it. They changed that fast to a constant low does with option to boost as needed.

Saturday night: I’m moved to a Step Down Unit. Which is like not quite in the ICU not quite general ward.

Sunday: a blur, still had the catheter. My mom visited. Pain was under control so I sat in a chair for almost 2 hours per the request of the nice PT lady.

Getting up was awful. Getting back in bed awful. Chair was fine.

Sunday night: had a dilaudid induced nightmare so bad my nurse was coming to check on me because my heart rate shot up out of nowhere. She reassured me I was awake, safe, and where I was and then held my hand and patted my head until I could calm down.

Monday morning: woke up at to a gaggle of med students around my bed. They took off my surgical binder to see my 48 stables and then squished my boobs so bad putting it back on I had to call my nurse and say “Meghan they smooshed my boobs help”

Rest of Monday: catheter out. It still hurts there because of course it was (the nurse was great. I’m not blaming her)

But I can pee!

And I have! Twice! (No food or liquids by mouth til Thursday so IV only)

Sat in the chair for 4 hours!

Had a mild panic attack (dropped my call bell and every fluid/antibiotic hit 30 min warning. I can’t yell cause of the NG tube so I just started sobbing.

Day nurse found me and saved me/hugged me/distracted me with cough drops and Netflix show.

Then! I walked from chair to door to bed.

That brings us current. I wanted to sleep but another surgeon walked in, woke me up looked at my staples, told me looks good GET SOME REST.

I’m here for like 2 weeks. Someone needs to let sleep!

#this is unedited #and written on pain meds #have fun

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taehyungsgrowl · 3 years

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uhhhh duncan in prison angst 👀👀

hey 👋🏽

i’m sorry this took me so long to answer! but i did make a lil moodboard to go w it :•)

also i've written quite a bit of angst lately so this will be a little angsty, but also smutty.

long distance(?) old school version of sexting, really

hope y'all enjoy!

(yes, i did just discover the indention feature!)

warnings: angst if you squint, h*rny love letters, prisoners cat calling y/n, aaaand smut

word count: 3.5 k (i really don't know how this was supposed to be less than 1,000)

i don't love how this came out but the idea kept floating around in my head so i wanted to share!

Y/N didn't think what started as a harmless little experiment would show her just how powerful words could be.

She scrolled through row after row of photos on the 'write a prisoner' website on a boring evening just for something to do. And now each time she got a letter in the mail from him, her stomach would flutter.

Her finger stopped mid scroll as she came across the photo of the scruffy faced man with cheekbones carved by the gods and eyes clearer than the skies.

Duncan Shepherd.

Her eyes scanned his profile, learning that he was being held in a minimum security prison out of D.C for numerous white collar crimes, including bribery and extortion. He listed his interests as fine arts and finer wines. He'd be out for parole soon but was looking for a way to pass his time in prison.

Out of the hundreds of prisoners Y/N had scrolled past, none of them held her interest like Duncan.

It started off innocently enough. She grabbed a piece of paper from her drawer and her favorite pen and wrote him a simple introduction letter. Even if Duncan didn't seem like a dangerous or violent criminal, she felt a sense of adrenaline in writing him.

Duncan,

I hope this letter finds you well. I like to imagine you get a lot of mail sent to you. I read on your profile that you're a fan of the arts, I'd love to know more about you and what kind of art you enjoy. Truth is, I don't even know why I'm doing this, but figured prison must be lonely so I hope this helps pass the time.

I included a print of one of my favorite pieces of art to hopefully liven up your cell.

All the best,

Y/N

Y/N knew it wasn't much to start off with, but she had no clue what to send to a strange she knew next to nothing about. She printed off a print of one of Monet's Water Lillies and sealed it in an envelope with her first letter.

She let herself forget she sent the letter, not making any expectations. For all she knew, Duncan Shepherd wouldn't even reply to her. It would be hard to imagine that other people browsing the site would ignore Duncan's profile. His beauty, even in a mugshot was beyond compare.

But before long, she'd gotten a beat up envelope in her mailbox from none other than Duncan Shepherd. Excitement buzzed around her as she took a seat in her bed and tore it open.

Y/N,

Thank you for the lovely picture. I've got it hanging above my bed as a reminder of things I loved about my freedom. My mother has an original piece hanging in my childhood home. I remember staring at it for hours, enthralled by the beauty of it.

I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the print in your envelope.

You know what they say about great minds.

Sometimes I wonder if my family would have let me pursue the arts if I'd be where I am today.

But I am eagerly counting the days until I am able to stroll through a museum in Paris again.

I am dying to know more about you. Tell me what makes up Y/N.

At the bottom of the sheet, was a rough sketch of a garden Duncan had drawn out for her.

The letters continued like that for a few weeks, slowly learning little bits and pieces of each other through writing.

She'd learned a lot about him very quickly. He told her about how troubles with his app and his powerful family led to him going to prison. And he also told her about all of the things he loved to do. Much to her surprise, she had more in common with him than she thought she would have,

Y/N,

We've been writing to each other for some time now and I must admit, curiosity is killing me. Not to mention, I do believe it's unfair that you've known what I look like from the start.

Tell me, did my photograph have anything to do with your interest in me?

I'd love to see you Y/N.

Y/N re-read the letter over and over trying to justify the butterflies in her stomach at the idea of Duncan thinking about her. Wondering what she looks like.

Duncan kept every letter Y/N had sent him using them as a way to fuel his daydreams of the woman behind the letters.

Y/N dug through her things in search of an old polaroid camera she had. - she thought Duncan would appreciate the use of instant film. Even if she felt a little silly doing so, she did her hair and makeup and searched her closet for the perfect outfit. In some way, this would be like Duncan's first impression of her. Little did she know, she'd already made a huge first impression with him.

She settled for a deep burgundy silk tank with a cowl neckline. She tossed her favorite leather jacket over it and put on her favorite dainty gold necklaces, letting them rest above her cleavage.

She made a little set up by the window in her room, where the light came in just right for a photo, and propped the camera up on a pile of books before setting it on an automatic timer to have it snap the photo of her.

She stared at the photo, smiling - happy with the results.

Y/N sat at her desk, writing him another letter and including her photo along with it.

Duncan opened his new letter from Y/N letting the photo fall from the envelope. He picked it up and stared in awe. He couldn't even focus on reading the words on the page as he stared at her picture.

In his mind, he expected her to be beautiful but was blown away by her photo.

He kept it safe, tucked under his pillow. He would take it out every night to look at it until he fell asleep dreaming of her.

Duncan saw her face... eyes clenched shut... pouty lips formed into a perfect "O" as her thighs surrounded his face.

He saw his hands traveling up her legs... kissing up her bare stomach... kissing her lips.

Everything felt so real.

Duncan woke up in a hot sweat from his over realistic dream. He could almost imagine her taste on his tongue.

The moon shone into his room giving him a sliver of silver light and he pulled her photo out, tracing his finger over her face.

He turned on the little lamp at his desk and sat down to write her back.

I can't tell you the time, but I believe it's past midnight and I can't sleep without dreaming of you.

Forgive me if I'm being forward, but I can't get you off my mind.

What I would give to be with you now...

Y/N, I want to feel your skin on mine. I imagine what it must feel like to have your lips pressed against my own.

I can't stop myself from thinking of all the ways I want to make you mine.

D.S.

I want to make you mine.

Y/N kept going back to those words.

If it weren't for the prison bars keeping Duncan away...

Her daydreams of spending the afternoons sipping coffee and strolling through colorful cities with Duncan began to change after the last letter. Knowing that he wanted her sent shivers down her spine.

I can't stop thinking about you either... Especially your last letter.

I want to know all the ways you'd make me yours.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it as well. I'm counting the days with you until you're able to get out and do just that...

Y/N colored her lips with her favorite lipstick and kissed the bottom of the page, leaving the perfect kiss mark on it.

She had unlocked something with Duncan with the last letter. Ever since he and Y/N started to exchange letters back and forth, he hadn't even bothered to open mail from other admirers. He only had eyes for Y/N.

Y/N.

Wish you could hear how your name falls off my lips as I chant it over and over when I bring myself relief - picturing your lips around my cock.

God.

It's hard to think clearly when you're on my mind.

You want to know of all the ways I'd make you mine? My hand would fall off by the time it took to write out each and every way I'd do that, sweetheart.

For starters, I'd love to skin my teeth into your skin. Leaving sweet love bites along your neck. Would you like that?

I wouldn't want you to worry about a thing.

You'd let me take care of you, right baby?

Maybe I'd tie up your wrists to make sure you keep still while I work on making you cum.

I hope you know I plan on keeping these promises the moment I get out.

Y/N touched herself as she read Duncan's letter again. His words making her pool between her legs. She dipped her hand into her panties and imagined everything Duncan described that he'd do to her.

Y/N wanted to do something special for Duncan.

She changed into a lacy lingerie set and grabbed her old camera again. Her heartbeat was beating fast with excitement. She held one hand up with her finger on the shutter and pointed it towards her bottoms. As she dipped her free hand into the waistband of her panties, she took the teasing shot of her hand inside her underwear.

Her cheeks felt hot as she took a look at the photo.

She took a few more. A few more teasing pictures - like the one she took wearing her leather jacket barely covering her - along with more R- rated photos.

She grabbed her small stack of photos and tied them with a piece of ribbon in order from least to most risque and added them to the letter she sent off to him.

Do you know what you do to me?

My letters make you touch yourself? What I would give to be able to see it in more than just your pictures. To be able to hear you for myself.

You don't know how much I loved your photos. You make my cock throb, thinking of just how much I want to fuck you.

I need to see you. Hear you.

How would you feel about coming to see me?

I can arrange with my assistants (the ones not in prison) to arrange a flight for you...

Please let me know what you think.

Love, D.S.

Love D.S.

"Shepherd. You got a call," the guard buzzed Duncan out of his cell and took him to the phone booth where the phone was waiting for him.

He wasn't expecting a call from his lawyer until later this week so he wasn't sure who would be calling him. Not like he and his family were on great terms at the moment.

Y/N tapped her foot anxiously on the other end of the call, trying to fight the nerves off.

"Hello?"

His voice was lower than she expected.

"Hi," she spoke barely above a whisper. "It's Y/N," she continued.

"Y/N? Y/N? Oh my god." Duncan smiled in a way he hadn't since he stepped foot into prison. "Your voice!" he laughed, "I'm hearing your voice! Wait, how? I - why? How?" he was at loss for words at the surprise.

"I hope it's okay. I called the office where I send my letters to and asked to call you," she bit her lip. "I like your voice."

Duncan chuckled, shaking his head. "Wow. It's so good to hear yours."

They knew they didn't have much time but they were both so wrapped up in the fact that they were hearing each other for the first time.

"I, uh, also wanted to talk to you about your... proposal from your last letter... about visiting you I mean." she paced back and forth in her room. "I'd like that. A lot."

His cheeks would be hurting from how hard he was smiling.

"You've got it, baby. We'll make it happen, I promise."

There was a brief pause, "Don't know how I'm gonna control myself when I have you in front of me, princess."

"Two minutes, Shepherd," the guard called over making Duncan roll his eyes.

"I have to go soon. But include your info in the next letter and I'll have my lawyers work something out with you, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled. "And Dunc, it's so good to hear your voice too,"

"You'll call me again?" he asked, desperation almost bleeding into his tone.

"Yes. I promise."

"Good." he grinned. "I'll talk to you soon. Bye, baby."

Over the next few weeks, Y/N and Duncan continued to have phone calls more often, but their letters never stopped. He got in touch with his attorney and passed along Y/N's information for him to follow up and help arrange a trip for her.

Before she knew it, she was being flown out in a first class seat to D.C.

They had her stay in a luxury suite the night before she got to finally meet Duncan.

The morning of, Y/N had piles of clothes tossed around the room as she searched for what to wear.

She'd known Duncan and his taste pretty well from his letters and phone calls to know what he liked. Y/N put on a baby pink silk mini slip dress that tiptoed the line between streetwear and lingerie, and strappy heels.

"Damn, baby. Haven't seen you around here..."

"Are you here for me?"

Along with countless other cat calls flooded her ears as the guard led her to Duncan's cell.

Duncan heard the commotion down the hall and he knew Y/N would be there any second. He frowned, wanting to take her away. None of those creeps deserved to even look at her, and here they were harassing her. It was his fault for bringing her there. He tried to tune them out, wanting to be okay when he saw Y/N.

Y/N was standing behind the guard as they came to Duncan's cell.

"Follow me, Shepherd. You both have an hour," the guard let Duncan out and he could finally lock eyes with Y/N.

She froze, finally seeing. His photo on the website did him no justice. The piercing stare of his eyes couldn't be recaptured on camera. His pink, full lips were even prettier in person.

"Hi," Duncan broke the silence between them. He was handcuffed immediately so he couldn't touch her the way he wished he could have right away.

But they were taken to the parloir where they would finally have some sense of privacy. Duncan's lawyers had worked out for this conjugal visit. They might have slipped the guards a few extra bills to ensure Duncan and Y/N had extra privacy for a moment. But Duncan had been a model prisoner (in one of the comfiest prisons in the country), so the guards had no reason to say no.

"One hour." he reminded Dunc, as he removed his handcuffs and left the room, leaving Y/N and Duncan alone.

"You're here," he closed the gap between them and embraced her. She smelled even better than he imagined.

"Duncan," she smiled with tears in her eyes, "I can't believe it's really you," she giggled.

"It's me," he pulled back, holding her hands as he admired her. "God, you're gorgeous."

Y/N couldn't help herself. She threw her arms around Duncan and kissed him.

Duncan stumbled back a little before steadying them. He cupped her face and deepened the kiss. He could feel her pulse quickening under his hand.

"God, can't believe you're here," he mumbled against her lips.

It'd be so long since he'd be this intimate with anyone - let alone someone he liked so much. He tried to push back the thoughts of the ticking clock counting their time and the cold industrial feel of the room they were in.

"I'm here... I'm yours," she tangled her fingers in his hair before kissing him again.

Duncan led her to the table, setting her on top of it. He towered above her, his hands on her thighs, slowly inching up her dress. She was everything he imagined and more.

"Open your legs for me," he instructed, parting them open.

He lowered himself until he was face to face with her dripping cunt. Her panties, if they could even be called that - they were a piece of barely-there cloth - were soaked. Duncan pressed her lips to the wet spot on her underwear and kissed it slowly, letting his tongue poke out through his lips and coat them with his saliva as well.

"Taste so sweet," he murmured, pulling her panties aside and putting his tongue on her wet pussy.

He lapped her wetness with his tongue, letting it massage her clit. Sucking and kissing her - watching how every move he made caused a different reaction from her.

Y/N tried to keep quiet, biting down on her lip to stifle her moans.

Duncan peeked up at her, holding in her sounds. He remembered the way the other prisoners hollered at her.

"I wanna hear you, baby. Please," he begged. He kissed along her thighs, "Want everyone in this god damn prison to know you're mine."

Y/N let the sounds she was holding in fall freely.

"Duncan. Duncan..." she called his name over and over getting closer to the sweet relief his tongue promised.

"Cum for me, sweetheart."

Duncan felt her heels digging into his shoulder blades as she trembled, finishing on his lips.

"Good girl," he praised, kissing along her thighs.

Duncan stood up as Y/N watched him with her hands pressed on the table, leaning back slightly to watch him.

"What?" Duncan chuckled, slowly undoing his jumpsuit.

"Just can't stop looking at you! You're real!" she laughed.

"Sure am," he grabbed his shaft, closing the gap between them. "I don't know when we'll be able to see each other.. like this again," he leaned down to kiss her. "Wanna make sure I make you feel good,"

He rubbed the end of his cock against her pussy. "Are you ready?"

"Waited so long," she whined, nodding her head.

Duncan pushed inside her, slowly. Savoring the way he stretched her open.

"Fuck," he groaned. "You're so tight," he panted, feeling her clench around his length.

He focused on the way he snapped his hips into hers, keeping a steady pace trying not to finish before she did.

But it had been so long. It had been a long time coming for this moment.

His head was in the crook of her neck, panting heavily. "Fuck, baby." he sunk his teeth into her soft skin. "Gonna cum," before he could finish his statement, he shot his load into her.

He stayed inside her as he rode out his orgasm.

Flushed Duncan faced her; embarrassed for finishing before he wanted to. "I'm sor-" she stopped him by pulling him in for a hard, deep kiss.

She pushed his hair out of his face, bumping her nose with his, "Nothing to be sorry for."

She had Duncan lay on the floor, using his jumpsuit to hold his head up, and then straddled his waist.

Her silky mini dress was bunched around her hips. Duncan found himself getting hard again as she climbed on top of him.

"Thought about doing this for so long," she kissed him. "Can't tell you how often I touched myself reading your letters... thinking about riding you," she sighed, positioning herself over his cock and sinking down.

She rode his cock, bouncing up and down his length. Her nails dug into his chest as she used it for support. The curve of his cock hitting her core made her eyes roll back with each roll of her hips.

Hot sweaty bodies had the coldness of the room forgotten.

Y/N grabbed Duncan's hands, intertwining their fingers, "Gonna.." she started, her legs shaking as her movement got sloppier.

"Me too," he grunted.

She felt Duncan fill her to the brim for the second time.

After a few moments of stillness, Y/N finally stood up, helping Duncan up with her. Her legs were shaky and Duncan helped her sit down.

She reached into her purse for a rag she brought. Duncan took it from her hand and got on his knees again. He cleaned their cum off her thighs, stopping only to give her small little kisses on her legs.

He heard Y/N sniffle and looked up, concern painted across his face. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Is she regretting it? He thought.

"No! Of course not," she sniffled again, "I just wish... you could come with me. Leave this place with me."

"Oh, baby," he stood up and kissed her forehead. "Soon. I promise," he tilted her chin up to kiss her.

And Y/N knew he meant what he said. Soon they'd be able to be together all the time, but it still broke her heart to leave and have to see him stay behind the metal bars.

tags:

@desertsunflower00 @celestialrequiem @dhampiravidi @ritualmichael @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @xavierplympton @langdonswhoreprobably @feralthoughtdump @wroteclassicaly @melodylangdon @bloodcoatedeclipse @kitty4860

bonus: screenshot from a very good point drunk!anon made vkfsjk

#duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd smut #duncan shepherd angst #duncan shepherd x reader #cody fern #house of cards #hoc #i didnt know who would like to be tagged or not so lmk if i need to make changes to the tl #thank you!!!#submission

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years

Text

Everlasting Peace (Favored Ones, Part 30.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Quote for the chapter: “ Now. We are one. In everlasting peace.” - Radiohead

Part summary: Finally, you were at the last stop of your journey - and just as you told Lev, you didn’t plan to let Abby die. But you also knew that you will be walking on mighty thin ice when you’ll be trying to change Joel and Tommy’s mind.

A/N: Well, we have one last chapter in front of us and it feels good to be almost finished with the series after all the hard work that went into it. But I already feel it’s dragging a lot.

Warnings: Depiction of torture, bone breaking, depiciton of blood and manslaughter, anxiety, rage, anger

Word count: 3.5 K

Tagging: @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme @davnwillcome @pickleriiick @jodiereedus22 @gladiosamicitias @tamkashi @eternallyvenus @avengerssstuff @fangirl-inthe-us @avery-miller @mikah-writes @mad-hatter-98 @sadiaafrin99 @flavorishy @gabymiller

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS

Seattle, day three - midnight:

You were back in the next few minutes, putting the bow safe into the boy's arms, making sure the kid's holding it. Frantically, you told him to try it out - you needed to know that no matter what happens in the next ten minutes, at least he will walk out of the situation on his own. It was a strange feeling of wicked solidarity. If everything would be going as planned, you wouldn't feel anything against the enemy. But your brain already realized that the boy is a lot of things, but lastly, he's something like your enemy. It was just a damn kid in this apocalyptic world.

How did you plan to save Abby's life? You hadn't got a single idea. You didn't understand how could you do something as bad as saving her damn life - well, it wasn't exactly bad to save someone's life, but your brain still kept on remaining you this fucking woman sat you down on a chair and beaten you up with her friends. Just like Owen told you, you were surely losing your mind.

One thing you did know. You knew that once this will be all said and done, you needed to pack and leave the whole place at once after it. Tommy's reaction was unpredictable - this man demanded to seek your revenge even when you told him that you've already been through enough. In some way, Tommy was more or less obsessed with the goal that led you to the city in the first place. And now, when he had a chance to get his hands on a woman because of whom his leg and arm got irreversibly damaged, you were sure he wouldn't just let her go. And what Joel thought about the whole situation now, you didn't know. Whether he was just making sure you won't be hurt by Abby again or if he was caring more about himself - all you were sure of was that the man was in there with his brother... And Abby. And you also knew that he has his revolver tucked behind his belt on the small of his back.

"We'll go for her, okay?" - You whispered to Lev, hoping that somehow, no-one else will get hurt apart for Abby. - "You'll stick behind me and you won't aim at anyone. I will handle the situation since it's mine... It's my fault you're here." - You weren't sorry for what happened, not exactly. You were just sorry for Abby and Lev, let alone Mel, for coming back after you. But Lev didn't say a word, he just caught your elbow in his palm. He was a vulnerable kid - and his gaze told you everything you needed to know.

Lev could understand why did you use him as a shield against Abby. It wasn't a personal thing - you just knew that these two knew each other in one way or another and that if she cared about the boy, she wouldn't be physically able to hurt him. If you would be in that situation and someone would be holding Ellie, Dina, Joel, or Tommy under their necks, you wouldn't shoot at them under any circumstance. Abby did exactly what was expected of her, she acted just like you wanted her to react. For which, she was now paying in one way or another. - "Let's go." - You told yourself to hype your mind in some way, wiggling from under Lev's warm touch.

Abby's screams were accompanying your journey through the upper floors of the theatre. Just like before, Joel didn't see sense in hurting Mel - but it was clever to put the woman in a nearby room, showing her what could happen to her too without actually giving her some visual interpretation. The door to the room where they first dragged Abby into was opened up - they had taken her to another room. There was another unlocked storeroom at the end of the floor - and your suspicion of Abby's presence was confirmed by a low growl and a blunt blow, probably from some kind of a bat or another kind of wood. Just when you put your palm on the doorknob, you turned to the kid once more, sighing from the depths of your lungs.

"You're not going in there, we clear?" - You asked quietly, getting yourself ready for seeing Joel in action. Now, you've already seen Joel killing other human beings, yes, but you've never seen him hurting someone for the sake of torturing. - "Listen, I know you want to save Abby because she's your friend... But these men are my friends too, okay? Abby didn't do only good things and neither do we do good things, understood? I'll signal you and you'll cover me, but until then..." - "I'll be here, in cover, making sure no-one's coming." - Lev stepped away from you, nodding at you as he kneeled. By giving your bow to Lev, you showed him that you mean it with the boy. And the weapon was better than his last bow. This one was perfectly balanced and the boy could feel the wood responding to every small movement of the strings.

With that, you finally opened up the door, making both of the men inside the room freak out a bit. Tommy put a palm on his chest and Joel quickly looked away from you, having a suspicion of why you were there with them. But you stopped your gaze on beaten up Abby. You were right - they were beating her up with a wooden cue. How long was it since you talked? Half an hour, roughly an hour? You wouldn't be able to recognize her now - his face was slowly swelling, blood was dripping from a small rip on her lips, and another one on her cheek. They were just about to try something else, but to you, even the cure thing was more than brutal. Surely, they put Abby in the same position you were in when you were at Baldwin - her tugged out top was indicating that they had already punched her stomach like a punching fucking bag.

With a short sigh, you looked at Joel, making sure his back is in your reach every time. Of course, you didn't let your eyes wander down to the man's lower back. You weren't that dumb to give yourself away so quickly, since you felt Tommy's gaze on your face. So you quickly looked back at him, looking tired as ever. - "Whatcha doin' here, huh? I thought you don't wanna have anythin' common with this." - Your brother-in-law cleaned his palms, furrowing at you. Yeah, you did tell him that. - "Have you change your mind, girl?" - Tommy sighed and precisely tidied up the things laying on the table.

You knew that Tommy isn't a fucking psychopath and you were even able to understand what was most likely going on in his mind. From his point of view, this was completely understandable, basically a logical response to everything that happened in the last few months. Tommy was simply in a dark place now. Let alone he was alone for the last couple of weeks - he was alone until Ellie and Jesse bumped into him. He had nothing but a mess in his head at the moment. But that wasn't an excuse to continue the rampage. If you hadn't seen what this seeking of revenge can put you into by massacring Owen in the aquarium, you would be probably in the same mindset the man was in too.

What happened the day earlier showed how did Seattle corrupt the way you were perceiving the reality. You felt emotionless, empty, and cold until Owen made you realized what a monster you had inside your head - which, naturally, made you conclude that whatever this was, it has to stop already. You have done precisely what you wanted to do - Abby was alone, vulnerable and she quite literally didn't have anyone and anything. But Tommy didn't see it at all. Joel most likely understood both sides of the problem, but he carried on with killing Abby before siding up with you.

"I had changed my mind, yeah." - You nodded, putting your palms on your hips as you marched in front of Abby, catching her jaws in your fingers to look her in the eyes. All she did was that she gave you back a grin as the fought for another breath. - "I change my mind." - With a furrow, you looked her in the eyes and that was precisely when she saw it. The small hint of humanity, of that so-called solidarity. Funny. You were very funny.

"You deserve it, kid, come on. Let's strike back." - Tommy tried to hype you up - and to Abby's surprise, she saw the hint of unwillingness and slight despair in your face as you thought about what you should tell the man back. And because you weren't dumb and you knew perfectly that Joel registred that your hesitation, no matter how slight it was. Slowly, you let her face go, gritting your teeth as you turned to Tommy, still making sure to stand close enough to Joel.

Simply, you shook your head as you stared into Tommy's eyes without a single drop of emotion on your face. To show Tommy that you're not playing along with his small game, you crossed your arms on your chest, slowly moving in front of the woman, yet still keeping Joel in the radius. - "No-one's dying tonight. Not me, not you, not Joel, not the kid, not Mel... And certainly not Abigail." - And ever since, there was the tension building up in the air. - "This needs to stop... Right now, Tommy. It's not fun anymore." - "This was never fun." - The man answered quietly.

He was trying to figure out if you're just fucking with him or if you're for real about the words falling out of your mouth. Sure, Tommy did agree to leave Abby alone and to leave Seattle with you, but you hadn't talked about the instance of this woman coming to you on her own. This, in his eyes, was enough to reason why he was allowed to do what he came to do. - "She killed Jesse, huh? Don't you remember?" - Tommy answered. Now, Joel almost wanted to leave the room - he didn't want to be dragged into a fight going on between his girlfriend and his baby brother.

"And we killed everyone who was hinted to know her, come on. We made maybe double, even triple the damage. Jesse was my friend, yes, and I will miss him very fucking much - but death was something we all signed up for by coming to Seattle, did you forget?" - Now, you were putting up one of your mocking tones with which you tried to get a hold on the situation. And Joel could see and feel you keeping him around and keeping him close for a reason. He didn't know whether he was too afraid to move, in case he would attract your attention, or if you were feeling better when having him that close, but he more or less just leaned his back into one of the walls, waiting for the whole situation to play out. - "It wouldn't matter if I would die, if Ellie would or if we would kill the little kid who is here with Abby... The outcome would still be the same. Someone would be dead. Some life would be lost." - You tried to reason with Tommy, being grateful for the whole situation not going downhill... At the moment.

"What is your point? If I remember correctly, you and Ellie were the ones who wanted to leave. Why did you want to see this one dead, huh? Because she wants my damn brother dead, who, if I may remind you, is your lover by the way." - Tommy pointed a knife he was holding in his palm in Abby's direction, growling at you in the process. - "What were you talking about? We all knew what we were signing up for? This is what you signed up for. We're... This close to finishing it. She's here." - The man pointed at Abby once more, trying to get his point across more clearly than you did. Yet in the meanwhile, Abby was starting to grasping what in the world was going on inside the room. For some unknown reason which just... Crossed your mind all of a sudden, you were refusing to kill her for the sake of your redemption. Which was sweet and all...

Yet Tommy was a realist. Tommy had seen, talked, and worked with people who were like Abigail Anderson - who had told her cute daddy story to them as well. The woman, as soon as she would get better would come for you again... And again... And again. She would get closer and closer each day until she would slice your throat. And sure, maybe it was naïve of you to trust some strange boy, but you did put your trust into him.

"I'm kinda getting bored with you and me going back and forth, again and again, Miller." - That was all that you said just seconds before you finally revealed why did you keep Joel so close the whole time. Your palm tugged the loaded revolver from his jeans as you defused it right away, putting the barrel right to Miller's face.

This was maybe too fast and too harsh, but you didn't want to go through the same debate you've had yesterday. Your hands were shaking, yes, but there was no way Tommy or Joel wouldn't believe you that you'd shoot one of them in case anything would go off the rails. - "Because we already talked about this, Miller. What do you feel now, huh?" - You asked and moved away from Joel to keep him inside your frame as well. - "Speak or shit letters, come on."

"What the fuck are you trying to do?" - Abby sighed from under you and without hesitation, you gently kicked into her leg to keep her silent. You were most likely going crazy, who could know? But aside from that, both the men were quiet for a moment, both holding their palms up in the air to let you know they aren't armed or dangerous. - "Baby girl, that's enough, huh?" - Joel rose both his eyebrows, making the first step forward to take the gun away from you. - "If you wanna leave, fuck, let's just leave together now. But now, you're dangerous, come on, come to me." - One of his palms patted a small place next to his heart to let you know he means it. - "We've talked about it and you know I understand you. You're not a monster, are you, huh? We're goin' back to Jackson." - Sure, you almost fell for your man trying to lower your attention enough for Tommy to circle the room before taking the gun out of your palms - but suddenly, you looked at the other brother, letting him know that Joel failed with his mission.

"I understand what you're going through now, Tommy, I do. Because we're on the same page here, remember? You've told it yourself - we left for Seattle because of the same reasons. And I was at the same place you were at. I had to lose it with Owen before to everything click in place. Because I don't feel anything now. I would shoot you and feel absolutely anything. And Joel? He went just because he knew I'd get killed without him." - Quickly, you acknowledged everything Joel was doing for you in the past few days, nodding at him. Slowly, you aimed the gun into the ground - but you still let both the man know about the revolver being defused. - "Joel, yeah, he was scared of a possibility that there's someone who is after him and he was terrified of the someone coming after his family..." - Joel opened up his mouth to oppose you, but you just gave him a tired look. - "Shut up, will you?

And I thought I was coming here to kill this woman, but... That isn't it. I came here for a conclusion. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't walk, I was messed up. I didn't realize what I was doing... How many lives I've impacted and fucked up by killing one person - let alone how many I ended up killing in the end. This isn't a solution. Killing Abby won't make you feel better. It won't make you forget about what happened. It won't heal you, it won't do shit." - Now, you finally fused the gun and defused it right away, playing with it as you spoke. - "You don't know the last thing about me or him, girl. So don't try to play someone who knows everythin', will you?" - Tommy answered to make concentrated on something else, while Joel watched your fingers on the fuse of the gun. - "Forgiveness will free you. I swear." - You promised, looking at your brother-in-law. And just at the moment when you fused the gun again, Joel quite literally ripped it out from you.

You watched the man dragging you from his brother, holding his arms around you as he did so. All he was trying was to stop you from freaking out. But the tighter he held you, the more you try to wiggle out - at least, the gun fell on the ground, so Joel's baby brother wasn't now in danger. Joel was telling you something, but you were still gritting your teeth, trying to push him off of you. You wouldn't be able to walk out of the room and look Lev in the eyes if they'd simply murdered Abby.

"And you? What is even on your mind, huh?" - You got out when you finally calmed down enough to just hang from Joel's arms which were circled your chest. - "Go on, Joel, speak. I hadn't heard any of your thoughts in the past few days... I had heard some, but now, you have time so speak." - Finally, you felt the man letting you go. But he was just staring back at you. Tommy stayed quiet in the corner of the room, watching it playing our while Abby was slowly gaining back her strength to at least breathe.

"I see, Miller, I see." - You nodded before putting your palm on his heart, concentrating on the rhythm of his heartbeat to feel it. It was calming you down most of the time - but this was a definite exception. Jesus, you couldn't believe that you're about to sink so love. Emotional extortion as the last source was maybe too far and very lame too, but honestly, you didn't know any other way to stop this from happening. - "Lemme tell you this... Yea? If she dies, we're done here." - And as far as it seemed, you seemed to be serious.

This dirty move threw Joel off the rails. Usually, he was the one using emotions as extortion. He used emotion as an excuse for murdering a whole hospital of Fireflies, he used emotion to still keep the relationship with Ellie alive. Joel was an emotionally abusive person when it came to him being threatened in some way - he proved this time of his persona time after time with Ellie and the Fireflies. But never had happened that someone would be as smart as him, pulling the emotional card as well. But you were standing in front of him, staring him in the eyes, showing him that you can pull out the same card as he did. - "This is just fuckin' ridiculous. You can't be serious." - Tommy called you out on the shitty, shad move - about which you knew is shitty and shady.

But if you had at least one chance with saving Abby, you needed to direct the chance on Joel. He was the one you had to put pressure on -mainly because Tommy was already knee-deep in the shit he was doing. But as you were looking at each other, Joel knew that you were perfectly serious. - "You can be better than you are now, Joel. Come on. Walk away from it and let her live. We proved ourselves and Abby has two, almost three, people to protect now. And these people will die if you kill her. Think about that. Now, it's on you." - You pulled him in for one last kiss, not knowing how it plays out as you were leaving the room and Seattle as a whole.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x y/n #joel miller the last of us #joel miller #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie williams the last of us #tommy miller the last of us #tommy miller #tommy the last of us #jesse the last of us #dina the last of us #dina something something #dina x ellie #the last of us part two #the last of us #the last of us imagine #the last of us part 2

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littlepanduh-writes-365 · 4 years

Text

Day 43

Title: “Nothing”

Description: A study session turns out to be something more.

Features: Michaeng (Twice)

Word Count: 1,159

Tags: Fluff | College AU

It started off as a study session. Chaeyoung and Mina are taking a music history class. They usually sit next to each other, except recently when Mina had been oversleeping the class. She asked to just borrow her notes, but Chaeyoung said she needed to explain some background things considering how many classes Mina missed. Now, they were sitting together in Mina’s apartment. Mina copied notes while Chaeyoung gave an abridged synopsis of Mozart’s Don Giovanni.

Mina thought the class was boring and thought only the reading was necessary (which is why she thought it was okay to skip lecture), but she really appreciated Chaeyoung’s eccentric storytelling.

“You should consider trying out for theatre. Your delivery is very intriguing.” She smiles and then looks back down to her notebook to copy the notes.

Chaeyoung was taken slightly aback. Was it the compliment or Mina’s smile?

“Thanks,” she simply says. She debates whether she should continue telling the story about Don Juan and Leprello comparing their body counts. Mina seems to still be writing things down and she didn’t want to awkwardly watch her, so she decided to open up a little bit. “I used to do ballet. I didn’t stay long enough to be good at it, but I liked the theatrical aspect to it.”

Mina looks up for a quick second to show her attentiveness. “That’s cool. I used to do ballet for like 10 years before I moved here.” She looks back down to write down more notes. Chaeyoung doesn’t know this, but Mina writes “ballet” in the margin next to “Don Juan was about to cancel Leprello until the Lep. exposed him with receipts.”

It seemed that Mina was still catching up on taking notes, so Chaeyoung carried the conversation. “Ten years? How do you not get sick of it?”

This time, Mina didn’t look up. She chuckled as she continued writing down things. “When you like something that much, it just sticks with you.”

Chaeyoung crosses her arms and slouches into the chair. “I wonder what that feels like. I used to take art classes and I joined a basketball team, but there was always something that made me dislike it enough to quit.”

Mina was finally done catching up; her pencil was sitting on her notebook, instead of her hand. Chaeyoung should’ve continued Don Juans’ story, but was more interested in getting to know about the girl in front of her. Why did she like ballet so much? Does she still dance? Why is she studying in Korea? Why is she taking this class?

What was supposed to be a one-hour, study session evolved into a 3.5-hour long study date. Chaeyoung managed to catch Mina up from the 3 lectures she missed, but she also learned about Mina’s pet dog and her favorite ride at amusement parks and what she does in her spare time. They made plans to eat Thai food some time while Chaeyoung tells her story about being a k-pop trainee before giving that up and going back to school.

In the beginning, conversation was just a time-killer, something to fill in the gaps. Now, there weren’t enough gaps. Even though Chaeyoung made Mozart and Don Giovanni’s life sound interesting, Mina wanted to know more about Chaeyoung herself.

Chaeyoung didn’t expect this. If she were being completely honest, the reason why Chaeyoung agreed to meet with Mina was because her roommate kicked her out for whatever reason. At this point, her roommate was probably done with whatever (or whoever) she was doing. Chaeyoung could probably go back home now. She could be writing that paper that’s due tomorrow night. She could be studying for another class.

That didn’t stop Chaeyoung when Mina asked if she wanted to play some Mario Kart, one of Mina’s pastimes. Chaeyoung doesn’t really play video games, but there was a sparkle in Mina’s eyes that convinced her to pick up the Switch controller and just go with it.

Mina was surprisingly very competitive. She was very verbal, shocking Chaeyoung with expletives in Japanese and English. Chaeyoung doesn’t know if it was beginner’s luck or if Mina is going easy on her, but they were neck and neck the entire time.

This is definitely spontaneous and unconventional. Chaeyoung could tell she was falling. She wants to hear Mina’s excited screams when she wins first place. She wants to hear Mina’s laugh as she gets Chaeyoung with a red shell, bringing her back to first place. She wants to keep seeing that smile on her face.

Chaeyoung was definitely greedy with time. The one-hour study session had now turned into a 5-hour long date. She should really go home. She has things to do. Mina probably has things to do, too.

“Hey,” Chaeyoung turns to the older woman. They lock eyes and as corny as it sounds, it really does feel like the world around them stopped. “This was really fun.” In retrospect, they lost a rather generous amount of time and both of them were definitely going to make up for it with a lack of sleep.

It's a nice feeling, how they don’t regret it.

Mina tries to pretend something in her stomach isn’t bubbling up. She can’t hide the blush on her cheek, though. She smiles and let’s out an accidental giggle. “Yeah, it was.”

Chaeyoung doesn’t understand this feeling of how their bodies seem magnetized to each other, but she knows she really shouldn’t stay any longer. Another round of Mario Kart would result in more screaming and Mina’s neighbors are probably already very upset considering it’s past midnight.

She doesn’t want to leave, but she knows she has to. It’s okay. There’s always a next time.

Next time.

The idea makes her smile.

Not being able to read her mind yet, Mina takes attention to the spontaneous grin. It makes her heart flutter. Was it because the mystery behind it excited her or because she realizes she likes the younger woman’s smile?

The girl in front of her doesn’t say anything, so she asks, “What?”

Mina catches Chaeyoung’s eyes drop down and her breath hitches. The tension was getting to her.

“What are you doing tomorrow,” Chaeyoung asks?

The older one tries to think of her schedule. It was a Friday. She can’t really remember if she was going to attend Momo’s dance class or grab lunch with Sana.

She can’t really remember. Maybe it doesn’t matter.

“Nothing,” she simply replies. (She doesn’t notice this, but she says this in a rather sing-songy tone.)

Chaeyoung chuckles, wondering if Mina forgot they had their music history class and planned on skipping again. Chaeyoung doesn’t mind though. Maybe they’d have another one of these “study sessions” again. Mina feels silly, but she can’t feel embarrassed when Chaeyoung looks at her like that: scrunched eyes, crooked smile, and twinkling eyes.

“Well,” Chaeyoung looks down and grabs her hand. “Can I do ‘nothing’ with you tomorrow?”

Socials: Twitter | Curious Cat

#it was so weird #i kinda just woke up and thought about this #3 hours later this came out #i feel like im in a flirty mood lol #this is such a specific mood but i really want to be at a party rn LOL #but yeah stay inside #we need to get over this stupid virus before we can do house parties again #or dating #365 Challenge #littlepanduh #michaeng #twice #mina #chaeyoung #twice fanfiction #michaeng fanfiction

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sewerloli · 4 years

Text

My Main OC (Pt. 1):

🎸 君勝紅子 (Kimikatsu Akako) 🎸

Birth name: Neev Redwood

Given adopted name: First name - 紅子 (Akako) • Last name - 君勝 (Kimikatsu)

Nickname: Aka (“Red” in Japanese)

Fandom: BNHA

Quirk type: Emitter, mostly long range but close quarters isn’t impossible for her.

Quirk: Projectile (Any part of the body chosen takes on the abilities of any projectile weapon that Akako studies in depth. She must intake Iron rich foods because the amo is made with the iron in her blood. Lack of iron will result in iron deficiency symptoms magnified to extreme levels. She sucks on a special dog tag necklace as an emergency iron replenishment when running low in battle.)

Stats: physical strength 2.5/5 - intelligence 4.5/5 - strategy 1.5/5 - stamina 3.5/5 - accuracy 6/5 - flexibility 4.5/5 - dexterity 5/5 - agility 3.5/5 - martial arts 4/5

Chosen Hero Name: Super Soldier

Height: 5’2

Birth Parents: Shery Redwood (Mother) and General Nolan Redwood (Father)

Adoptive parent: Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic)

Sexuality: Bi

Age: 16

Birthday: August 4th

Likes: Spicy Ramen, Rock and alternative music, drawing, sweets, etc.

Disslikes: The sound of loud chewing and swallowing, when people pry for her backstory, when people insult her music, the word “Moist”, Mineta, Monoma and the U.S Military.

S/O: Midoriya

Backstory: Neev (later named Akako)’s mother died of birth complications. Leaving her alone with her father, the head general of the U.S military. He was a loving father and taught her about the army in fun, child friendly ways with games, target practice, flying in jets and sky diving. Her quirk manifested at the age of four in a horrible accident. Her father was playing “war” with her. Firing finger guns in each others directions and throwing imaginary grenades. Neev went to fake fire at her father in a playful manner when a real bullet shot from her finger. The bullet nestled in her father’s head, killing him. She ran over to him in and screamed for help. The second in command, Sir Johnson, came running in and was baffled at the sight before him. From that moment on, she was in the care (more like abuse) Sir Johnson. They trained her rigorously despite her being merely a child. As the years passed they treated her less and less as a human and more as an object. A weapon for the convenience of the military. (They didn’t even refer to her as her name, they called her “Project S.S”.) They experimented her quirk’s limits. (One example is seeing if she was bulletproof by shooting her in the side with a small 9mm hand gun), forced her to labour during the day and study weaponry until ungodly hours of the night. At the age of six years old she was the strongest weapon the U.S Military had. But she was emotionally dead. One faithful day, she found a glint if hope. She was making her way around the Pentagon (her “prison”) when she noticed an open cargo plane. She surveyed the area for witnesses. Seeing there was no one around, then she hid in the cargo plane. The hatch closed not long after, the aircraft took off and she spent several hours in the freezing belly of a plane on a flight to an unknown destination. Upon landing, she escaped into the city. Not knowing where she was in the world, she lived on the streets of (what she didn’t know was) Mustafu Japan for five weeks until she was found by Hizashi Yamada. The young girl didn’t know a word of Japanese, so she was very lucky that Mic was an English teacher. He took her home that night giving her a warm place to stay because a six year old shouldn’t be living on the streets. She explained how she got to Japan and Mic listened carefully, understanding the situation and felling remorse for her. He asked for her name and she told him she couldn’t remember her first name and that the only thing she could remember regarding her name is that her last name was Redman. It was because she was never referred to by her name. Sir Johnson and the rest of the military always called her “S.S” or “Project S.S”. After careful consideration, Mic concluded that he would raise her to learn that there is more to life than fighting, sadness and war. Since she would have to learnJapanese, he diecided it would be wise to give her a Japanese name so she could fit into society. So, staying true to her known last name, he gave her the first name Akako, meaning “Red child”. For her new last name, he saw how courageous she had been through her life and how strong she was. He gave her the last name Kimikatsu, meaning “You win”. Because even though she was in a bad place, in the end she won back her freedom. From that day on, Mic taught Akako how to use her quirk in a non-lethal manner. Having her study the use of tranquilizer guns, paintball guns, harpoons, their personal favourite confetti cannons, and many more... Her being the adopted daughter of the hero, she grew up around many of the popular heroes such as Eraser Head who taught her how to not give any fucks, Midnight who helped her with lady problems and being there when she had trouble sleeping because of nightmares (PTSD), Cementos who tutored her in school, Fat Gum who always gave the best hugs when she would be sad, Mrs. Joke who taught her how to laugh again, and even All Might, who taught her to be noble and to be confident in herself. Mic also taught her a few things. he taught her two of her most loved hobbies, music and art.

Peronality: Akako is very easy going. She is often idealistic, but realistic when she needs to be. Her peers describe her as humourous, kind, supportive, empowering, independent and creative. Her faulty traits are that she’s overly emotional, overly empathetic, impulsive, indecisive, blunt (at times), and makes SERIOUSLY grim remarks at inappropriate times (Not the Hahaha dark humour. I mean the stuff that makes you question if you’re safe around her). Also uses dark humour to cover her emotional distress (but it just makes people even more concerned). When she hangs with her friends she is a literal crackhead. She loves all her 1-A pals as if they were her own children. (She actually refers to them as “Child” or “Children” or “My babies” even though she’s younger than most of them). When it comes to her past, she doesn’t talk about it AT ALL to ANYONE (accept to two people, Deku and Todoroki).

Elaborating on her hobbies: Being raised by Hizashi Yamada got her into many rock bands. Being inspired by her adoptive father figure, she learnt as many instruments as she could. They have jam sessions together, they play all their favourite songs. She plays Bass, electric + accounting guitar, ukuele and piano + keyboard. She had always be decent at art but improved when she started admiring heroes. She would draw all her hero mentors and get her drawings signed by them (because she was like a daughter to all of them). She would plaster them all over her walls instead of buying posters because she didn’t want to waste Hizashi’s money.

A little on her PTSD: Still has nightmares. She gets flashbacks when people mention fathers dying and when she sees news on the U.S army in the newspapers or online. Flashbacks result in her isolating herself or in worst cases, panick attacks.

How she got into the hero course: Reccomendations. Having all these connections to popular heroes, you best believe that they helped her train her quirk. She ended up having 11 different heroes reccomend her for the UA hero course.

Close friends include: Dekusquad, Jirou, Mina, Kiri and Bakugou (Suprisingly).

People who dislike her: Monoma (HATES her 10x more than he hates all of 1-A combined. He can’t use her quirk if he tried to copy it because he knows NOTHING about weapons or projectiles), Kendo (Dislikes her because she thinks Akako has an unfair advantage having the heroes constantly supporting her), U.S Military (Still searching for her),

What’s in her bag?:

Dorm room:

Clothing style:

Distinctive Marks On Her Body: A bullet wound scar and lots of freckles

This is the end of Part 1

Thanks for reading

Love you PLUS ULTRA💚

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daryljdugdale · 4 years

Text

THE WACKIEST OF RACES PART2

As we passed through Madrid at about 4 pm our thoughts focused on all those within the city suffering with CV in one of the key hotspots of Spain. Especially the elderly and vulnerable. There did appear to be a lot more ambulances visible. At this point we thought we had enough energy and there was enough day light for us to drive to Burgos. So that became our plan, then all of a sudden things took a dramatic change. First the weather turned very wintry very quickly. As we drove above Madrid and through the Sierra de Guadarrama mountain range the sleet turned into snow and our 1000 meters above sea level showed its significance. As the snow fell, snow ploughs began to appear at every junction, primed for a mammoth snow clearing operation. The number of articulated lorries began to increase and their driving became more erratic and more dangerous. We saw two jack knifed lorries in quick succession and we slowed our speed down to less than 40 km an hour. This meant of course that our journey to Burgos would take longer. As the day light receded I thought we might just make it to our planned destination before 8 pm. Then a second dramatic change came, a sudden flood of texts from friends and aquaintences including a friend with connections to Ambasadors in both Spain and France. The key messages were the Spanish were going to extend the conditions of lockdown and close the borders at midnight and France were considering doing the same, also the EU were considering action around those signed up to the Shengan agreement. All of a sudden our gentle, mellow road trip ratcheted up several levels. TC and I had to make a decision, should we continue with the plan to stay overnight in Burgos, rest up and take the risk it would be safe to cross the border tomorrow, or should we abandon that plan altogether and drive directly to France. We knew getting to the border would mean another 3.5 hours of driving through the snow/ sleet in the dark and our energy levels were depleting, but we really couldn’t risk being on the wrong side of any decision made by either the Spanish or the French. All the time texts were coming in offering advice, including our ambassadorial connection. The agreed position of most was head for the border, don’t stop, you need to get back to the UK. At this point the speed of decision making and speed of our actions became our only focus. It didn’t take us long to abandon our plan to sleep over in Burgos, we needed to get to that border and before midnight. Still the sleet came down, changing to a heavy rain as we drove to a lower altitude. Still the articulated lorries sped past us, the windscreen wipers on the van were not very efficient and the head lights not really fit for purpose, despite all of this we carried on. With still a couple of hours to go until we reached the border we then received an email from Brittany Ferries telling us our ferry booked for Thursday had been cancelled due to the numbers of staff falling ill with CV. Very quickly our plan for returning to UK was falling apart in front of our eyes. Whilst I focused on keeping the van on the road and away from those artic monkeys driving so crazily, TC began to try and find us an alternative ferry from any port in France. The adrenaline was definitely kicking in as our journey turned into a race against both the weather and time. Lots of friends were now focused on also identifying routes home and texts were flying all over the place. It was a very intense time. It became increasingly obvious that we couldn’t wait until Thursday to leave the country but we needed to leave as quickly as possible. Things were changing with such speed and governments were acting robustly to try and take control of how the CV was effecting it’s population. These dramatic and forthright decisions were in total contrast to what appeared to be the laxidasicle approach from the UK government. The unpredictability of what might happen next and how it might impact on our attempts to get back were anxiety provoking. Still no rows. It’s amazing how adrenaline works.

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seventeencelcius · 5 years

Text

Coffee Shop! Joshua

after a horrible first paper that kicked off your finals season, you headed to your regualr coffee shop to continue studying after the closing hours of your college library

“17 Celcius” was the place you fondly regarded as your second home since you spent most of your time inside

especially when you needed a space to escape from your noisy rommates in the cramp dorm you were staying

you usually went there just before your 8am classes to receive your morning dose of caffeine or for any project discussions, but it was probably a first for you to arrive at this hour

you couldn’t really blame yourself because every time exams was round the corner, you automatically became a zombie by staying up all night studying and crashed in the afternoon while powering your night with additional zcoffee

while it was not unusual for you stay up late, your roomates had an issue since you were the one the kind who acted up as they studied,

which was sort of creepy to listen to when someone was trying to sleep so they ‘unofficially’ kicked you out of the dorm unless you were actually back to, you know, sleep

luckily for you, this place was opened 24 hours with the owner’s intention to attract college students who had a messed up sleeping schedule

or even to those who had their hearts broken at an odd hour and needed some warm hot chocolate to mend their soul

it was the cafè’s one and only policy to serve any customer without any questions asked regardless of the time and their appearance

having a sweeter tooth, you usually leaned toward drinks such as a caramel latte and a mocha

however, you already had a shitty enough day from pretty much flunking your test despite how much you had studied the week before and the stress from seemingly not being prepared enough for your other subjects

with those thoughts constantly running through your mind, you had forgotten to grab your wallet you had left on the library table

you could only pray hard that you could still find it in the morning since it was already closed by the time you remembered

you only had a few loose change to spare after digging around your tote bag but thankfully, it accumulated enough to get you the cheapest beverage on the menu - a black coffee

butter drinks weren’t exactly your favourite but you had to suck it up

you desperately needed that fix of caffeine to continue studying or you would have collapsed from fatigue in no given time

furthermore, the environment from the cafe was much better than the silent library

with the occasional sound from the coffee beans being grounded and roasted made it lively even with the lack of customers

you barely paid attention to the cash register as you dropped the amount to the cashier’s hands and muttered out your name

exhaustation was evident on your face and your mind was genuinely worn out from the amount of things you had to memorize for your upcoming tests

whoever was in the college exam board, you hated them with your entire heart, mind, body and soul

geez who in their right mind thought it would he a great idea to schedule all your exams back to back?!?!

pulling an all nighter for the last few days was seriously driving you mad and you felt that you couldn’t even hold a proper conversation without spitting out some theory in between

to add on to your frustration, none of yourlecturers were being helpful whenever you took the liberty to email them questions

what came back to you was usually “check the previous slides” or “I’m taking a break, contact me again at xxxx”

you couldn’t wait for finals to be over so you could be a normal, functioning human being again

a notification from your phone caught your attention and by the time you skimmed the first few lines, you were on the verge of a mental breakdown

you were close to hyperventilating as your palms become clammy

it was an email from the college board to notify all full scholarship holders that should they not reach the minimum requirements of 3.5 GPA for finals, their scholarship will immediately be revoked

you really didn’t need to be reminded by this constant nightmare and it felt as if your demons were closing in one b-

“Here’s your order. Enjoy!”

for a moment you panicked since it was accustomed for the barista to call your name and for you to collect your order, yet here this person was bringing it all the way to your secluded corner where your tower of lecture notes seemed to be covering your frame

“i didn’t order any of this???? Wasn’t it supposed to be a black coffee?”

glancing downwards, a chocolate chip cookie deocrated your table along with a drink that was clearly too milky to be a black coffee

also definitely more than $3 you paid for

you begin panicking when you looked up at the barista because were you THAT sleep deprevied that you somehow gave the wrong order??

your pupils dilated even more when your line of vision moved upwards, immediately distracted by the person infront of you

this was totally the worst day of your life

here was the probably the most handsome person you had ever laid your eyes on and you looked like you haven’t sleep in days with your panda eyebags and the hoodie you slept in

if looks could kill, you would probably be death by now

& wow if you were still alive, you were going to put a drink recommendation in the suggestion box called: Death by chocolate cause those eyes of his were more than just mesmerizing

considering you were a regular gere, thsi worker was most likely someone who only worked the midnight shift,

you guessed you needed to bug your friend who also worked here, Seungcheol, to know of his name

“oh, you looked like you needed it. don’t worry, it’s on the house. have strength and just endure a little more!”

you never deemed yourself as a particularly emotional person

sure there was the occasional outburst when you watched Hachiko or when Peter K. confessed love to Lara Jeans in To All The Boys I’ve Lived Before

but this, this was something else.

you didn’t know what struck you but you started crying

you would like to think it was because this situation too much for you to handle since you weren’t familiar with kindess during this bleak period of time known as exam season

yes, crying in an empty coffee shop at 1:15AM with the cute as heck barista standing right next to you

you had your fair shares of meltdowns in public before but most of the time, the crowd would just ignore you, with the belief that everyone goes through a hard time anyways so there wasn’t a need to pause their lives just to comfort a complete stranger

truth to be told, you thought the cute barista would just bolt through the entrance and call 911 or be like everyone else by giving your the cold shoulder treatment

to your surprise, you felt a warm hand patting your head before moving down to gently stroke your back in a rhythmic yet tender movement

“you will feel better after crying it all out.”

hearing his voice gave you more than just confort but you sought solace in both his words and presence

“i’m sorry *sniffs* e-exams ar-re jut ... so hard right now ..... i’m gonna fa—il and not-ot make it .... in my life ...”

the barista called your name, making you divert your full attention to him and tbh you were wondering how did he even know your name until you remembered you were the one who gave it when you ordered your drink lol

“you’re doing fine and I know you’re trying your best right now. That’s what most important.”

those words were all you needed for a smile to crack up and for your spirits to be lifted up

maybe what you needed all this while was an acknowledgement from others, to know that your hard work wasn’t going nowhere and that someone can see how much effort you are putting

“those are on the house so have faith in yourself and enjoy what you are doing!”

his encouragement had you lifting the corner of your lips to form a smile

sighing, you were sure the barista was only being nice to you because based on the fact that he looked like your age, he probably understood what you were going through and pitied you right from the start

to avoid being a food, you didn’t dare to think much about the encounter when you thanked him at the counter, cheeks reddened from your earlier outburst

you stuttered when you struggled with what to call him because you were rather embarrassed by the nickname of ‘cute barista’ you labelled him

“jisoo, but I usually let the people I like call me joshua so you can call me that.”

his twinkling eyes paired with that dangerously sweet smile of his took you off guard for a second

you had to shyly looked away to organize your thoughts because pray god that you weren’t interpreting this situation the wrong way

thanking him again with his name this time, you told him you will drop by to pay him back so won’t owe him anything

instead, he smiled and asked you to give him a second so he could tell how you could repay your ‘debt’

while you remained confused, joshua took one of the napkins sitting on the counter and scribbled something down before passing it to you

it had his number written neatly with a:

“i only work the midnight shift, you can repay the debt by going on a date with me :)”

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #joshua hong #hong jisoo #seventeen joshua #joshua fanfiction #joshua scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #kpop fanfiction #kpop fluff #seventeen fanfiction #svt #admin cinnamon roll #joshua #kpop scenarios

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jbaeteng · 5 years

Photo

Boa in the latest issue of Kicker 31 may 2019

"I was already gone in my head. When you get a clear promise and an adequate fee is paid then suddenly it's rejected, something breaks down in you"

"My first half of the season was not good. Then I was able to turn myself upside down and play well, but I was benched anyway. The justifications given to me by the coach left me with the question: Why am I the one who had to be left out?"

"I will attack again in the new season. At Bayern? I clearly imagine that I can continue at Bayern. I'm not going to run away, situations change quickly"

" I told Jupp Heynckes: I won ten titles with Bayern, I know the processes inside out, I needed a new impulse. I like being here, I love Munich, it was a great time, but I know when I have to go and that's what you would have to grant a player after so many years here"

"I know what I can do. When I have a club and a coach that gives me confidence, I know how to play"

"I'm a footballer, if you don't play a role, it hurts. I respect my teammates but I cannot pretend. I can't laugh around and pretend that I'm happy. And I know that when it mattered in the past years, I was always there in big games"

The season 2018/19 at Bayern is now over for him, but basically four weeks already: On May 4, against Hannover, Jerome Boateng was allowed to play for the last time. The remaining three games were followed by the central defender on the bench. "Of course I can not say that this season is good for me. I've lost a lot this year, my place in the national team and at Bayern, "says Boateng. "It was a negative year for both sides, for the club and for me." It's an unvarnished honest record.

This season began under obstructive circumstances. He said "in the summer of 2018, not in vain internally, that I absolutely wanted to leave" and got the assurance that he would be released from his contract until 2021, "if the right club comes and the money is right". These two conditions saw Boateng satisfied when Paris Saint-Germain wanted to sign him. But then the FCB officials refused. Three days before the transfer in late August 2018, Boateng learned "that they suddenly said no and I was not allowed to leave."

So he sought direct contact with the leadership - CEO Karl-Heinz Rummenigge, sports director Hasan Salihamidzic and coach Niko Kovac sat at the table - and said: "Please, let me go! I have to go. I need a new challenge. "The position of the club sounded that way, Boateng says:" They said the coach really wants to hold you; for him you are number one in defense. "Rummenigge then repeated several times that he could not release Boateng under these circumstances. Boateng thanked "for the appreciation", but made clear: "I want to go anyway. Absolutely. "The answer:" No. Even if It's hard for you, you have to accept it so."

Boateng had already basically felt" that the club was no longer to me ". Because Rummenigge had put the 2014 World Champion in the showcase just before the 2018 World Cup with the words: "If a club comes and Jerome announces that he wants to change to this club, we will deal with it." Paris had now offered a transfer, the including bonuses would have added to 40 million euros. But the no remained.

"That was hard to work with," says Boateng today. "I was already gone with my head. If you get such a safe pledge and an adequate sum is paid, but suddenly it's called no, something collapses in you. So, without further ado, that did not leave me without a trace. "However, this abrupt change in the situation did not affect his general attitude to football and his job.

The relationship with the new coach Kovac, he found initially "all right, just like the other players". And he admits: "Sure, we had a bad phase in the fall, and I played badly," for example, when 3: 3 against Dusseldorf. So it came in those weeks to exchange with Kovac, "my first round was not good". During Christmas holidays, the defender telephoned the head coach and assured him that he had finally come to terms with the refusal to change clubs, "that I was fully focused and after the winter break totally wanted to fight for my place in the team". The Trainer's Response: In the winter training camp in Qatar, "everyone starts at zero".

There, Boateng notes, "I trained at top level". In the public training sessions, he was usually part of the A-Elf, Mats Hummels to the B-group. So Boateng "decided that I would start against Hoffenheim". But for the second half of the season, he was only substituted in the 90th minute for Javi Martinez. "I could not understand, I was angry, especially because of the statements of the coach, I would have trained super, he liked that, aggressive, I was headed, et cetera."

On top of that Kovac had announced shortly before the kick-off in Hoffenheim, Süle was Munich's center-back number 1, Boateng and Hummels would have to "match" behind her place. Boateng asked the coach about the background for this statement and learned: "He said that was a mistake."

Boateng locates the beginnings of this development in the second half already in the middle of December 2018, when he played against Nuremberg (kicker -Note 2.5) in Hannover suddenly had to experience 90 minutes as a substitute. "Since then, I felt I had no chance, because I could stand on my head and play well, I was still out in certain games," he says in a quiet tone. "It was very frustrating for me because I had worked hard." He supplemented the daily work with the team with an individual program: yoga, fitness, physio "to get me fit".

The appearance or accusation that he was too distracted from his profession as a professional footballer, he states objectively-determined: "All these side things, the glasses, the magazine, the party after the match against Dortmund - I do not have to do anything . "Boateng asks and says," What do I have to do for it? It is always put in such a way that I would have to travel through the world for it and would have any appointments or obligations for six hours. "Other players would also have photo shoots for PR purposes," why is this never discussed? "Jewelry, glasses, earrings "I've been wearing it since I'm with Bayern". So he became Triple Winner 2013 and World Champion 2014.

For his eyewear collection, he says, "every three or four months I spend an hour coming to develop the designs", on location in Munich. "Then there is a shoot for two hours, also in Munich, also every three or four months." For his magazine BOA he does "nothing, except a shoot over an hour or two, also in Munich, all three, four months ".

But did this boa party have to be the PR for the second edition of his lifestyle magazine in the Munich Nobel Club P1, right after the possibly decisive hit against Dortmund? And how inappropriate would this party have been in a defeat? "Then I would have turned up there from 11 pm to midnight because of the sponsors and then home," replies Boateng. "We have clearly communicated that to Bayern." In addition, the FCB makers knew what sponsors expected from a partner. "I had to be there for them." And no concerns were expressed to him by the club. "We could have discussed it and made a statement to the outside." Six, eight weeks before the BVB game, this party was planned.

Before Thomas Muller headed for P 1 that night, he said on social media, "Boa, do not let it get you down! Are a horny guy. "Hummels, Ribery, Lewandowski, Gnabry, Alaba, Tolisso came, allegedly twelve players. "If we had lost, nobody would have come," says Boateng. "But none of us thought that we would lose." The Bayern won 5-0, Boateng sat 90 minutes on the bench.

And are not there - another reproach - his constant short trips to Berlin? "Only if we had no English week and were free, I flew to Berlin," countered Boateng. "But it was always said: Jerome is in Berlin." For other players who also travel by air on days off, there was this topic not: David Alaba jettete known to often to Vienna, Javi Martinez to Spain, Franck Ribery to Paris. Boateng may not understand this different rating, "but that just fits in".

Where so far his deep tone remained the same, Boateng is now emotional and says louder: "I'm a footballer. I'm still burning. I'm hot. But I was slowed down because I was unfairly not used for me, as I deserved it. "Okay, he admits, football is never fair," but I feel like I'm upside down everything was set in stone since December ".

The second half-series began for him with a three-week delay, at home against Schalke, on 9 February. Before the match in Leverkusen, the third in the second half, in early February, Boateng had a one-hour conversation with coach Kovac. Again, he received praise for his good training performance - but sat outside again. But in the upcoming English weeks, the coach has promised him, "you're immediately on hand, if one does not bring his performance, because you deserve it, you train great". Four days later, in the cup at Hertha BSC, he still remained 120 minutes substitute. In the next league match against Schalke Boateng defended next to Hummels "neat", as he judges - the kicker rating 3.5 supports his self-assessment. On the next matchday in Augsburg he had to watch again for 90 minutes and today asks: "But on what grounds?" Two weeks later Kovac had told him that he would not change a victorious team. "Why am I the one who has to go out?"

Boateng takes a deep breath. "It was hard for me to accept that I was not used regularly and was only allowed to play when the coach just needed me." He leads the cup semi-final in Bremen, where he was stable (kicker note 3 ). "After that, I had to get out again", in Nuremberg, "and without explanation." Boateng emphasizes: "I'm the last person who can't take criticism when someone is better".

In the Hinserie, "I also told the coach, I had no problem with him taking me out." But in the second half he sees no reason for his supporting role "because of the training and the games". Kovac even indirectly confirmed it recently when he said to him, "You have not played that much, even though you may be the best defender." Boateng replied to Kovac, "How am I supposed to take that statement? You do not set me up, why ever. "The two are talking.

The 76-time international, early in March by coach Joachim Loew from the DFB selection retired, but would like to blame for the unsuccessful season 2018/19 not alone looking at others. He gives himself self-critical. "I let myself be pulled down too much by the whole situation," he says. But does not a World Champion and Footballer of the Year for which he was elected in 2016 have to defend himself against such attacks? "Sure, I know what I can do," he says, "but at the touch of a button I can not say, now I'm laughing again, it's all peace, joy, pancakes again. I am not. "He reclaims for himself original human feelings and reactions. "It was about my personal happiness, I just had to go."

In 2018, he repeated what he had experienced at the age of 18. At that time he felt that he had to get out of Berlin, "from this comfort zone, where everyone knocked on my shoulders." So it was again: "I needed a new challenge. I know how I am. Here I fall asleep, I told Jupp Heynckes, when he asked me a year ago what I would like to do. "The former Bayern coach understood, but wanted to know the reason. "I've won ten titles with Bayern, know the processes inside out," Boateng told him. "I needed a new impulse." To avoid giving the wrong impression, Boateng hastily emphasizes: "I like being here, I love it Munich. They were great times. But I know when to go. And that would have to have been granted to a player after so many successful years. "

How does it go from here? President Uli Hoeness described the professional with the jersey number 17 last Sunday as a "foreign body". Boateng names as counterargument Niklas Süle. To his immediate opponent in the defense he has "a super wire because the boy is absolutely okay". In the cabin, Boateng addresses things directly to everyone, including the superiors. "Because I want to be successful." In the summer preparation 2018, in the training camp, pleaded the two captains Manuel Neuer and Müller internally that Boateng should necessarily remain. And yet: Was his behavior at the celebrations and the cup win not unquestionable?

At the master celebration in the stadium he kicked off with his two daughters, afterwards he went to a friend's wedding, not the team party. "I'm a footballer," he says. And explains his point of view: "If you do not play a role, it hurts you. I respectfully respect my fellow players. But I can not pretend, do not laugh and pretend I'm so happy. And I know: If it was important in the last few years, I was always there in the big games. "An exception he leads immediately and without asking: The 2: 5-clap in the Cup final against Dortmund in May 2012," the is years ago ", kicker rating: 5.5. "Otherwise, I was always one of the players in the crucial games to stand out." In the 2014 World Cup final kicker made him the player of the game, grade 1.

And yet again the question: Does a team athlete not attend a club or team event? "It was not the last season game, there was still the double celebration on Marienplatz," says Boateng. "And when one of my friends marries, I go to the wedding. It had nothing to do with my mood. Even if I had played, I would be at the wedding. "He serves examples of his identification with Bayern. For the club, he had shortened his vacation, came to New York, did PR shoots for Audi and opened with Rummenigge the stock market. "I was the driving force, I did everything for Bayern."

In contrast, he felt at his shoulder injury in 2016/17 by the club not supported at all. The usual during an operation accompanying an FCB doctor was missing, afterwards there were no visits club official in the hospital or asking for his health. And he was never informed about his removal from the players' council this season: Suddenly Lewandowski was third captain, even Thiago got in a friendly match the captain's bandage - before Boateng.

A first crack suffered on 1 July 2011 started, long perfect relationship FCB-Boateng in November 2016. The Munich lost in Rostov in the Champions League with 2: 3, Boateng was danced in the first goal, before the second he committed a foul , Penalty, 1: 2-residue (49th). He was injured ten minutes later. Boateng would have to come back more "back to earth", so on the ground, said Rummenigge back then in the icy-cold Russia night. Boateng considers such public criticism as a breach of trust, especially because he had a few days earlier in a personal conversation with the CEO pointed to some athletic maladies and Rummenigge had criticized him in private, not in the approach. Boateng did not feel protected by the board boss. The sequel followed before the now ended season and immediately afterwards with Hoeness' public recommendation to change. Of course, Boateng is still ready to do that.

But the future employer must fit. "I have very clear sporting expectations and goals," says Boateng emphatically. He rejects a transfer to China or the USA with a decided no. He said it was about the personal esteem in a new club, he emphasizes: "I would like to prove once again my class after the disappointments of this season and show that I belong to the three top center-backs in the world. I know what I can do. And if I have a club and a coach that gives me confidence, I know how I play. "Despite the recent development, however, Boateng can" clearly imagine that it can continue at Bayern ". He asks: "Why not?" And answers: "I'm a footballer, Bayern is a big club." He also had to take into account that his children go to school in Munich. "I will not run away here for sure. Situations change quickly. "

Once again he clarifies:" I do not want to end my career, on the contrary. "He wanted" one hundred percent success as a footballer. Just after having been slowed down so much this season, I want to show that I am still fully occupied. I'm going to attack fully in the next season. "

After this season 2018/19, which at least spared him major physical injuries, he feels ready for new exploits. "Jerome has not finished yet and still has huge potential for the next three years," says Jupp Heynckes. In the triple year 2012/13, "he shot into the world class," said Boateng's former coach in Munich, "at the 2014 World Cup, he was the best center-back in the world." Boateng is "an easy to run player who needs trust and understanding "Heynckes says," working with him was a pleasure ". Peter Hermann, who saw Boateng as an assistant coach in Munich in daily operations, adds: "Nobody plays out from the back like Jerome does. He has to be fit, then he can play for a few more years at top level - if he wants it. "Boateng wants. He says. Determined.

On vacation, he will - as usually in the past years - go through a private preparation. For this he sets his own fitness trainer and physiotherapist on his own account. "For the five-week vacation, I have a well-planned plan," he says. The exercises are designed specifically for him. For the last 14 days of this individual work "full throttle" is programmed. Boateng wants to start "prepaired" in preparation for 2019/20.

#jerome boateng #kovac is such a loser #sorry some sentences may sound stupid because it's translated with google translator #:)

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mileheitcity-blog · 5 years

Text

Three Days in Iceland

Pre-Trip

I had planned on hitting Iceland on my way to Europe for some time. It was around 2012 that I first heard of the extended layover on Icelandair, but never really thought to look much into it, at least until I had a reason to. Study abroad finally gave me that reason. Turns out you can stay up to seven days in Iceland on your way to wherever you want to go without incurring extra service fees. Combine that with relatively cheap airfare and it seemed like the easiest way to beat jetlag and see somewhere new. I figured a place like Iceland would be a little expensive, and not wanting to blow my entire wallet before I even hit Amsterdam, I decided on a three day layover. It seemed like enough time to see some of Western Iceland and maybe get a feel for the place. I made sure to pack for some outdoors: raincoat, hiking shoes, swimsuit, sweatshirts. When researching places to stay, I found my hunch about price was correct: Iceland was more than a little expensive. Staying in Reykjavik was out of the question, so instead I found a guesthouse in the village of Akranes, about 45 minutes up the road. After the quarter ended in early June, I flew to Denver to see my parents and tie up some important loose ends before my trip. On June 17, I caught my first flight from Denver International Airport and tried to sleep on the seven hour flight to Keflavik.

Day 1

Our flight was a little late getting out of Denver, so we landed at around 9:30 local time in Iceland. Running on about 3.5 hours of sleep, I got my rental car and headed straight for my 11:00 appointment at the Blue Lagoon. I was running about an hour late, of course, but they didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, it was one of the best customer service experiences I’ve ever had. If I went down the wrong hallway, they immediately pointed me in the right direction or let me through with my wristband anyway. The sushi I had was nourishing after all that time in the air. The water was nothing short of spectacular: milky white, warm and relaxing. Two steam baths and a sauna were open and accessible in the corner and both were quite necessary. One kiosk on the left hand side sold mud masks, like the Dead Sea, and offered a silica one for free. Two rounds of the silica mask made the skin on my face feel as happy as it had been in years. Another kiosk in the corner sold beer and drinks, so I got the Icelandic national brew: Gull. Drinking and driving in Iceland is strictly forbidden, so I wanted to make sure to limit myself to only two drinks on my trip, this being one of them. I’ll get to the other one later. Gull isn’t too bad, but not too great. Something of a standard macro lager, a few shades better than Rainier. Enjoying my drink slowly allowed me to make friends with some folks around me from the Pacific Northwest, which definitely made the transition to a foreign land a little easier. My only regret from a place like this is that eventually you’ll have to leave. But I’ll be back...

Feeling refreshed, relaxed, and sobered up from my one beer, I hopped in the car and went to Reykjavik. It’s a fairly small city: you can see much of the main areas in a day. The main landmark in the city is Halgrimskirkja: the cathedral of the Church of Iceland. It’s fairly impressive, with a really cool looking pipe organ and a statue of Leif Erikson in front. I had forgotten he was of Iceland, that his father was Erik the Red. Not far from Halgrimskirkja was the Laugevegur, the main restaurant and shopping district. It was along this street that I knew where to find my second and final drink in Iceland. Many of the hot spots along this street carried oddly American names: the Chuck Norris Grill, a pub called Boston that looked like it was taken directly out of Cheers. I finally came upon the one I wanted: Lebowskibar. It was absolutely kitsch, sure, but I’m a sucker for anything to do with The Big Lebowski. I had to have my White Russian, and a “hell of a Caucasian” it was.

About 3000 ISK later, I took a short walk to the Icelandic Punk Museum to sober up a bit, but it was nothing special. The coolest thing there was a little joke at Hitler’s expense, which is never a bad thing. After the Punk Museum it was time to head on up to Akranes. There was no one at the desk, but my key was waiting for me inside, with the sun still shining at around 10pm. I took a walk down to the lighthouse at the end of town to catch the closest thing Iceland has to a summer sunset, and caught the midnight sun as I got back to the guesthouse for the night. A solid day one.

Day 2

Got a late start after sleeping off the jetlag and went right for what I really came for: Hákarl. I knew that fermented shark was pretty gnarly, but I wasn’t gonna miss it. The spot to go find shark is on the Snæfellsnes Peninsula at the Bjarnarhöfn Shark Museum. The museum is located pretty well out in the middle of nowhere, about two hours up the road from Akranes. I didn’t get on the road until almost noon, so I thought I was out of time. I quickly grabbed a cup of coffee and a full tank of gas (around 250ISK per litre!) found my way. I found out later I had quite a bit of sunlight to work with. The Shark Museum itself is a small house on a windswept headland on the northern side of the peninsula. A spectacular view. Undaunted, I paid my 1000 ISK to see the place. The museum itself is a rather eclectic collection of maritime memorabilia and Icelandic antiques. The collection seemed almost unorganized, but I wasn’t there for the collection, I was there for the shark. The presentation was short, but interesting: a burly Icelander explains how the shark is poisonous when eaten fresh because it doesn’t process urine, so they have to basically let the thing rot in wooden tubs before letting it dry out back for a while, leading to its notorious smell. The smell can best be described as a mix of ammonia and urine, which makes sense, and though it is indeed quite foul it’s not nearly as strong or permeating as I expected it to be. It tasted much better than it smelled: like a slightly buttery fish, nothing too offensive. After a short peek at the collection, the burly Icelander directs you to the drying house out back. That’s where the magic happens, and the food gets its stinky reputation. Where the fish was pretty mild, the drying house is extremely pungent and stings your nose. The visual appearance of the shark as its cured is no more appealing: brown, crusty, and oozing with liquid. Overall though, the shark wasn’t too bad. A man in need could almost make a meal out of the stuff, and definitely could make a side dish.

Next stop was Kirkjufell and the town of Grundarfjörður about 30 minutes further out along the peninsula. Kirkjufell was featured on seasons six and seven of Game of Thrones, which was totally why I wanted to see it and not because it was a symbol of Iceland. But that was a nice perk too. I grabbed a hot dog in Grundarfjörður and found a nice little cafe that was also a small library, a great find along the trail. The mountain itself is impressive, and the nearby stream is fed by a sprawling waterfall across the highway. Very picturesque.

My third and final stop was the Vatnshellir Cave on the far end of the peninsula, about another hour out. I pull in at around 17:50, about ten minutes before they close for the day, and this place is remote. I mean even the WiFi router I brought in the car with me, the one that worked for my entire Iceland trip, couldn’t find anything out there. If there was an “end of the Earth”, this was it. The cave itself is an experience onto itself. They fit you with a helmet and a flashlight, and a friendly guide takes you down a long spiral metal staircase made slick by constant water dripping through the soil. The cave was created by a volcanic explosion, like pretty much everything else on this island, and is layered with eons of nature’s bidding. Afteer some time exploring the worn lava rock, you go down another staircase: this one even longer (about 40 meters) and slicker. At the end of the cave tour, the guide has us all close our eyes and turn out our lights. When we open them, all language barriers between the tour group disappears with a loud “whoa!” in relative unison as we all process the complete lack of light. Pitch black has new meaning there. The darkness is absolute, whole, enveloping. There really isn’t a way to describe just how dark it is with absolutely no sunlight whatsoever. After a few meditative minutes we all climbed back up, glad we had made the trek down. On the way out, I happened upon what looked like the keeper of the lighthouse at the end of the jetty lowering the Icelandic flag for the night. Felt like the perfect symbol to cap off a truly Icelandic day.

Day 3

My final day in Iceland I wanted to pack in anything else I missed before I took off to Amsterdam. I got up and headed straight back too Reykjavik. The Alþingi building is beautiful from the outside, and claims to be the oldest active parliament in the world, however, they had no tours for the day. Undaunted, I stumbled to the Settlement Exhibition up the street, colloquially called 871+- 2, in reference to the probably year Iceland was first settled by Vikings, within a range of a year or two. The Settlement Museum is very interactive, and contains replica models of some of the houses the original settlers built. The Settlement Exhibition is part of a museum network with two others, of which I only went to one: the oldest extant house in Reykjavik. The house held a small photo exhibition of Icelandic life in 1918, and was fairly well curated.

My second stop of the day was...shall we say a little different: the Icelandic Phallocalogical Museum. This guy, for some reason, had a large curated collection of animal penises, and somehow found it within himself to mount and display them in a complete museum dedicated to his collection. There are large penises, like that of a blue whale, and small penises, like that of a hamster. He even has a couple of bronze casts of human penises. The voice on the audio guide never explains why he has such a collection, and why he decided to display it on the wall for everyone to see, but boy does he go into detail about each penis. Far more than I wanted to know, but still worth a chuckle.

The Icelandic Rock and Roll Museum was only 30 more minutes down the road in Reykjanesbær , and contained a well curated mix of materials dating back to the early days and some bands I had never heard of. I mostly just went to geek on bunch of Björk and Sigur Rós and Of Monsters and Men. The collection did not disappoint. The museum was interactive, and even had a karaoke booth (that wasn’t soundproof, as I found out later). I was able to get my fill of guitars and strange costumes and even a band made out of wood. Fans of MoPop in Seattle (formerly known as the Experience Music Project) might be a little underwhelmed, but this was a fun tribute to the fascinating music history of such a tiny place. I may have spent a little too much time and energy in the karaoke room singing some of my favorites; the woman working at the desk barged in about halfway through song six (I think?) to tell me the room wasn’t soundproof. Oops.

My next two stops were a bit far away, and it was already 3pm, so I needed to hit the road. Only about nine more hours of sunlight. Reykjadalur Hot Springs got some rave reviews on YouTube, and was only about 90 minutes up the road. Or so I thought. The parking lot sits down at the bottom of a steep mountain pass near the town of Hveragerði. A little coffee shop greets visitors, but it had shut down for the day. It was pretty chili outside so I grabbed my sweatshirt for what I thought was a short walk to the river. Turns out the springs itself is a three kilometer walk up the hill. And people swim in the river. I immediately regretted forgetting both my hiking shoes and my swimsuit. The hike up to the springs is stunning. Sweeping valleys and steep canyons give way to open fields full of sheep. So many sheep. They graze in the valley, drink some of the colder water downstream, and even walk right up towards the trail for the freshest grass. Off in the distance steam literally billows out of the earth. The only time I’ve ever seen anything like it was at Yellowstone, but this was different. It was....quiet. Peaceful. The smell of sulfur carries with the wind. Near the end of the hike, you walk right through one of those steam vents, which was somehow simultaneously refreshing and blinding. The hot springs themselves are more like a spot in the river. Something in the soil is volcanic, so the ground heats the water to some naturally balmy temperatures. The bathing area is nearly the opposite of the Blue Lagoon. There are no amenities, there is no one bringing you a drink or offering you a mud mask. There are no saunas or steam baths, or any real facilities of any kind for that matter. Not a roof in sight, not even a restroom. Only a few privacy barriers indicated a potential spot to change out. I wasn’t exactly prepared for a full swim, so I took my shoes off and soaked my aching feet a while. The hot mineral water was quite soothing, really softened up the calluses.

The hike up and down created quite an appetite. I saw a sign on the road back to the main highway for a pizza bar and geothermal brewery: Ölverk. Good enough for me. The place was a little fancier than I expected, but the food and service were both really delicious. Got a pizza with dates, bacon, and blue cheese on it, and it’s probably the only pizza with fruit I’d do again. I passed on the beer: around 2700 ISK for a taster flight of four, 4000 ISK for a draft pour. Makes the ballpark seem cheap. Turns out the geothermal thing was just how they generated their power anyway, which is kinda cool I suppose, but that’s how they generate much of their electricity there. That’s like saying a brewery in Seattle is hydroelectric powered. It was getting late in the day at this point, but my friend recommended I hit a spot a little further up the road: Kerið Crater. It’s a sinkhole, but an impressive one. The parking lot backs right up to the crater, and there’s a short hike around and a staircase to the bottom. At the bottom is a pool of clean, cool groundwater. Like everywhere else in that country, it was created by volcanic activity. Some kind of sinkhole type process. I took the staircase to the bottom, took a drink of the water (tasted great!), and had a lovely conversation with some folks from Russia. A chat with some folks from the other side of the world seemed like a good way to transition to the next portion of my trip. I took a windy route back through the southern portion of Þingvellir National Park, but it was around 10:30pm at that point so I knew I needed to drive the couple hours back to Akranes to make my flight. The back roads were wide open and peaceful: for kilometers on end I might have been the only person. There was also some gravel, but some experience living in the Colorado mountains served me well. I cranked up the tunes and thought wistfully of the summer ahead of me. Amsterdam, I’m ready.

Final Thoughts

Iceland is a place unto itself. My only regret is that I didn’t allow myself one more day. More than that though, oof. It gets expensive. Outside of Reykjavik is extremely rural and provincial, and Reykjavik is indeed lovely, but not exactly the most cosmopolitan or bustling city. I would go back, and would recommend it to almost everyone, but unless you plan on doing some hardcore expeditions you can see pretty much everything in three to four days. For me, it served its purpose: I relaxed at the Blue Lagoon, ate Hákarl, slept off the jetlag, and adjusted to some of the differences of European culture. Overall, a lovely experience. Oh, and be aware the tap water smells like sulfur.

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techmomma · 5 years

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Steph’s Toikey Dinner

So you too can experience the joy of jostling around a turkey carcass and handling its inners! Warning as such!

If Steph can never make a turkey before and make one as nice as this, you too can! All you need are:

a heavy roasting pan, preferably not those tinfoil ones. mine looked like this (handles are VERY VERY NICE especially when handling a FATASS 17 POUND BIRD)

a ladle. or a baster.

a nice food thermometer

a whole shitton of butter that you leave out on the counter all day to warm up (two sticks did me fine)

teriyaki

soy sauce

oranges (more than one)

orange marmalade

a can of whole berry cranberry sauce

honey

sprigs of herbs you like

like two or three onions

flour

garlic

salt

pepper

lemonpepper

ginger?

other spices???

brown sugar

a dead bird. preferably a turkey. goose, pheasant, peacock, and ostrich sufficeable

probably an oven that works.

optional: some stalks of celery, some carrots, a small onion (tennis ball sized)

So first up, since this was my first time making a turkey and it might be your first time: giblets are stored in the body cavity AND the neck hole. The neck usually goes in the body cavity. Chances are the butcher tucked the legs into a flap they made using the turkey’s ass. You gotta untuck the legs and pull down the flap to get to the body cavity. To get to the neck cavity, you gotta lift up the neck fat. You do not need to cut it. There should be a plastic baggy, and it should have the heart, liver, and gizzard (a muscly part of the stomach that grinds food). I threw away the liver because I heard you’re not really supposed to use it, but that’s optional.

I put the giblets and neck aside and refrigerated them since I wouldn’t be using them till way later, while the bird was cooking.

If you defrosted the bird, there’s probably like. A lot of blood and lipid-y water in the cavity. Drain that. There will be more. There is always more. As per @askmerriauthor‘s suggestions, I brined my bird with a salt and brown sugar mixture of 1/2 cup kosher salt, 1 tbsp brown sugar. If you brine something, you rub the salt all over and inside it. Then I wrapped it in saran wrap and put it back in the fridge for about nine hours, since I was doing the prepwork early. (I forgot to mention I brined the giblets too.)

Yes. By the end of the day, the smell of raw turkey will not come out of your hands. You will smell it while you are eating. It’s not quite pleasant.

Time for THE SAUCE. Get a big bowl. Open the cranberry sauce can. Put into bowl. It comes out looking like this. Add 3/4 cup teriyaki sauce. Then two tablespoon of soysauce. Or 1/2 cup of teriyaki, and a half cup of soy sauce, like I did, because I didn’t have enough teriyaki and goofed up. Then add 1/2 cup honey, 1/2 cup orange marmelade. Then take one of the oranges, and microwave it for about 10-12 seconds (hear me out). When it comes out, roll it on the counter while pressing on it. Then cut it in half and squeeze those orange halves for every drop of goddamn juice they have, into the sauce. Keep the rinds in a baggy. Mix everything together. Cover and put in the fridge for however long until cooking time.

Now take them onions. Peel them, cut them in half from top to bottom where the root-things are, then in half again across the middles. Now cut into wedges. Put in bowl. Now peel garlic. It’s not enough garlic. It’s still not enough garlic. Add more garlic. Put into bowl with onions. Now cut another orange into slices, and add them to the garlic and onions. Cover and put in fridge. I used a tupperware container because I’m mean but not that mean to my room-mates to put a bowl full of onions and garlic in the fridge with just saran wrap covering it.

COOK TIME.

About an hour and a half before the actual cook time is gonna start, I take out the turkey and all those ingredients for the sauce, and the butter and the salt and spices and shit. I took the two sticks of butter, put them in a bowl, put a 1/2 tsp of salt, pepper, and some lemonpepper and ginger and other things that smelled nice in the butter too. Mushed it together into a buttery something. As per Merriauthor’s advice, again, I I shoved my hands under the turkey skin, and started separating it from the muscle. This process is tedious, cold, and gross. Or fun, if you’re a madman. It was both for me. You won’t separate all of the skin from the breast and thighs, but that’s a good thing. You want some of it to stay together because then, after you shove butter in there, the butter won’t all melt away and out of the skin. Make sure you get under the neck flaps too.

As hinted at, once you’re done, you’re gonna shove that butter under the skin and over it. Gordon Ramsay makes this look easy. It is not. It is a nightmare and will not feel like enough when you run out of butter. It is enough. Just do your best.

Now take that onion-garlic-orange mixture, and the rind you saved. Shove one rind half into the cavity, way into the back. Shove more of the onions and garlic and oranges inside after it. Shove in a sprig of thyme or sage or rosemary or whatever you like inside with it. Put the rest of the onions and stuff around the bird, in the pan.

Pre-heat the oven to 325 F.

Now take out the sauce. Do the same thing with the sauce. It will suck even more than the butter because it’s liquid, and the butter is already inside. Try not to disturb the butter. Do your best. Shove some cranberries under the skin too. Then drizzle the rest over the top.

Tuck the legs back into the flap you took them out of. Really awkwardly put the wings under the body, under I guess the shoulderblades. Stick the bird in the oven. Try to leave enough space between the bird and the top of the oven that you can fit a ladle in there without too much work. Don’t be like Steph who almost melted the ladle one or twice or every time she basted it.

Basting is when you take the juices from the pan and drizzle them over the turkey to keep it moist. You’ll wanna do this every 30-45 minutes, over about 3 to 3.5 hours. Every so often, stick that fancy thermometer in there, in the thick parts of the meat, try not to hit any bones. You wanna reach at least 160 degrees by the end.

If you want to make a sickass gravy to go with it, then take out those giblets when there’s about an hour and a half left. Heat up a saucepan to where if you flick water at it, the water takes about a second to boil off, which should be about medium heat. While it’s heating, clean and chop up those stalks of celery, those carrots, and that small onion. Put those and two tablespoons of butter in the saucepan. Cook those together for about two minutes, you should see the onions turn a little darker. Add a pinch of salt and pepper.

Now add that turkey neck and giblets. Now add water until the giblets are covered. Put that back onto the heat, turn it up so that it boils, then turn it down so that it boils gently. That’s simmering. Let it simmer an hour.

Timer goes off. Your back is aching and you’re tired. Take the turkey out. It has to rest and cool off for at least twenty minutes. If you’re not making gravy, it’s done. If you are, ladle out the juices in the pan into another saucepan. Take the saucepan that’s been simmering the giblets out, and use a sieve to strain out the carrots, onions, celery, and giblets, and collect the broth. Once the giblets are cooled off, cut them up into little pieces, and pull off as much meat as possible from the neck. You can chop up that meat too but I liked leaving it like pulled meat.

Stick the cut-up giblets in the saucepan with the turkey juices. Simmer that. Add a tablespoon of flour at a time until it reaches the consistency you like. If you want to cut down on the saltiness, add the broth too in parts, to your liking. You’re gonna need to play it by ear, depending on how much turkey juice you collect. But add a little salt and pepper to taste, and you’ve got your giblet gravy!

With everything done, carve up the turkey like a barbarian, enjoy your feast, and try not to fall asleep in your plate because you’ve been up since midnight!! Proceed to pass out in bed anyway. Enjoy your work in dreams.

AND THAT’S HOW YOU MAKE STEPH’S TOIKEY DINNER

#recipe

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pharronhugo · 5 years

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🍄

So this past (passed? 🤔...hmm yeah let’s go with past) so this past weekend I decided to try shrooms for the first time. Now, I’m the type of person that really has no interest in using drugs (besides Mary of course) but idk the opportunity presented itself and Myself along with the people I did them with said fuck it🤷🏾‍♂️. So it’s Saturday 2/9/19 at about 6:30 pm and we got the product and measured it out. 3.5 down the hatch.

6:45pm:

So by now we are just playing the waiting game. Super smash bros is being played in the living room, I’m rolling up, and another friend is cooking. The music that was being played just sounded soooo fucking good, like no matter what. (I should mention we were playing nothing but beats and instrumentals) we made it through the 1st j and was about halfway through the 2nd when I felt the effects of the shrooms

7:30ish pm:

Cool, soooo I think the shrooms are taking effect because I felt gooooood as fuck. Like extremely good😂. I felt like I had just won the lottery, but wasn’t showing it at all. It was magnificent up until the time my stomach started to feel funny. it wasn’t too bad like “ugh I gotta shit” it was just a little discomfort, nothing major.

8:15ish

I couldn’t feel my left side of my body😂 it was strange because I couldn’t move it, like at all. Sooo I sat. I don’t know how long I say for but I did. I then moved to the floor and laid down.

9pm

Now there are no crazy hallucinations or anything happening but when I closed my eyes I saw COLORS, not the regular dots and shit you see when you close your eye, but like vivid colors. And not even just colors like full scenes are happening at this moment and I’m watching them happen. Again, I know I’m terrible at explaining things but the shit was cool. Oh and b this point my senses had become extremely sensitive as far as light, smell, and touch go. Oh yeah, my bodily functions was at a complete stand still. From the time I ate those shrooms until about 11:30ish I didn’t have to use the restroom, wasn’t hungry, wasn’t thirsty, wasn’t sleepy, nothing.

Midnight: so at this point we are almost 6 hours in and everyone still feels fantastic lol, shit was crazy😂. It was almost sad to think that, to feel THAT good you need an outside source. I have no clue what time it was when I finally left, I wanna say like 2. I...was...up...the...WHOLE night. You will NOT sleep after doing these. I didn’t finally shut my eyes until like 7am and even then I only slept until 9am. The scary part is, I still felt great.😂

I would definitely recommend trying these in your lifetime. Make sure you and the people you are with are in a good headspace when trying it, also I highly recommend listening to music too. Thanks for reading.

#personal

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phanfictioncatalogue · 6 years

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Broken Up But Still Living Together Masterlist

Links Last Checked: December 4th, 2022

Always (ao3) - phantastic

Summary: Phil and Dan broke up but still live together, which can lead to some awkward situations.

‘Cause Right Now Could Last Forever (Just As Long As I’m With You) (ao3) - elusive_eventuality

Summary: Dan and Phil break up but are still friends/living together. One night Dan feels really ill and asks if he can sleep in Phil’s bed because even though they arent together, Phil always made him feel better when he was sick. And they cuddle and end up back together and life is good again.

Caught (ao3) - hygge

Summary: Just because they weren’t together anymore didn’t mean that Dan couldn’t read phanfiction while he got off, right? Or at least that’s what he thought before Phil walked into the room.

Equilibrium (ao3) - phan_anon

Summary: It's 2016, and Omega!Dan doesn't need an Alpha to be happy, thank you very much. He's quite content living with best friend, flat mate, business partner, co-author, ex-boyfriend, and occasional lover, Beta!Phil. Quite content, that is, until an unplanned pregnancy disturbs the comfortable equilibrium they've established over the years...

glazed eyes, empty hearts (ao3) - mitchell

Summary: “It’s 6am and you decide that if you drink vodka fast enough it tastes like love. And when you throw it up a few hours later, you decide that’s how love feels like.”

I Followed Fires - embracingpastels

Summary: They’re no less in love than they used to be - but they’re also stubborn, and pissed, and trying their hardest not to touch each other. (When they do, it’s more conversation than they’ve had in months)

Incapable of Letting Things Go (ao3) - Merrydith

Summary: When you live with someone for as long as Dan and Phil had, every object retains sediment that can't be thrown away. Especially if you still feel some sort of way towards the memory or the thought the object represents. It pained Phil to watch Dan chuck things that still held so much sediment to him. Letters in green envelopes and CDs that contained songs like “Interrupted by Fireworks” and “Toxic”. Phil winced when Dan crumbled the drawing he had done for Dan when his Skype microphone broke that one time. He hoped Dan didn't notice his overly eager offer to take the trash out, solely to fish a few of these objects out. Pressing the objects to his chest, he'd sneak them away into a box of his own and call it a good deed. Saving the memories of their relationship because Dan wouldn't do it himself.

But what happens when Dan comes across this box and Phil feels like he's about to throw up?

It's Better To Burn Than To Fade Away (It's Better To Leave Than To Be Replaced) (ao3) - your_starless_eyes

Summary: 2012 isn't going so great, to say the least.

Of Mistakes and Fuck-ups - dark-days-dark-nights-xx

Summary: Dan knew he fucked up as soon as the words left his mouth, as soon as Phil’s eyes had turned from hurt to stone cold, as soon as he had walked out of the room, leaving his own words bouncing around in the depths of his mind.

Old Habits - scifiphan

Summary: dan and phil have broken up but old habits die hard

Salt in Your Wounds (ao3) - timelordangel

Summary: They broke up years ago, but apparently they can still sneak into each other's rooms at midnight. This doesn't tear Dan apart, or anything. Not at all.

Until You Were Gone (ao3) - fairylightshowell

Summary: Dan and Phil have been dating for 3 years, but things start to go south towards the end of 2011. In 2012, they start ignoring each other and not talking. Halfway into the year, they break up and split apart, causing Dan to move on, while Phil is still attached. Dan finds a new love when he moves back home. 3 and a half years later, on New Year’s Eve, he proposes to his girlfriend of 3.5 years. He hasn’t fully moved on as Phil is there when he proposes to his girlfriend.

way too soft a touch for you (ao3) - wrongbed

Summary: Dan and Phil come together and fall apart over and over again, and just can't figure out the right way to love each other.

aka what happens when two kids start dating without technically labeling it "dating," and then are still living together 6 years later somehow.

We’re Going To Be Okay - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan and Phil have broken up, and things haven’t been the best. But, things go from bad to worse when Phil brings one of his ‘one night stands’ home with him.

Why Can’t We Be Like That? - georgiabread

Summary: I used to steal his cereal partly to make him laugh, and also because I was hungry during the night. I still am. But he doesn’t laugh anymore, and I don’t want to eat.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phan #masterlists #tw #angst #breakup #breakup masterlist #backtogether #backtogether masterlist

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lovesahilyaduvanshiposts · 2 years

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The KIBO Code Quantum Review 2022 by Aidan Booth

Aidan and Steve released different training materials, that you can access below. In the book, they reveal the core system and continue with the graphic called the Blueprint. Here they expose the main features of the system, which they reinforce with the case studies (student results). They did a few live pieces of training discussing the program in detail, and you can see the replay down below. But before you watch it, register for today’s live training! The slots for this live trainings are filling up fast and you don’t want to miss it. On this page you can access all the training they released in the past few days.

The Kibo Eclipse supporting materials

Past days were quite busy for Aidan and Steve as they released the book, the blueprint, and the student results in the video. Make sure to go through and better understand what the Kibo Eclipse is all about.

The “Super Sunday” LIVE-Streamed Event was a huge success, with over 1000 attendees. Aidan and Steve DEMO the entire KIBO Eclipse system to the point, so this is worth watching. If you didn’t manage to make it, the good news is that they have posted a REPLAY of the event, but it won’t be there for long.

Click to order the Kibo Eclipse!

The replay of a 3.5-hour long workshop will only be available until midnight tonight. This is your only chance to find out how this E-commerce model works and get the top 10 “Kibo” questions answered by Aidan and Steve. They present case studies, software demos, announced special bonuses, and other things. The good thing is that you get the time-stamp of the presentation, so you can skip to parts that interest you the most. Check it out while you can!

The Profit Map – downloadable graphic

The “Profit-Map” graphic reveals how to build an eCom business using this system. By looking at it, you find out about two important elements of the Kibo Code.

The first is the instant traffic solution that comes along with this program. You learn that the Kibo Eclipse relies on a secret traffic source, so getting visitors to your store will be easy. The second element is the ‘done-for-you’ shortcuts. By relying on proven and tested solutions, you will shorten the amount of time to generate cashflow. DOWNLOAD THE PROFIT MAP

The Core System – the book

Aidan and Steve released a FREE book, that talks about the core 5-step system for building a business. You will learn how the Kibo Eclipse works, how to leverage a secret source of free traffic, and how you can get started. Watch the accompanying video while you can, download the book to get a clear overview, and then dive into my review!

DOWNLOAD THE BOOK

Welcome to my Kibo Eclipse review! The promo is in full swing and everyone is talking about this business opportunity. There have been many Kibo Code reviews, but are they speaking the truth or do they want to convince you to buy this program? Many of them still review the old version.

The core part of the course will deliver through weekly training sessions. Aidan and Steve are going to start working with students after they close the registrations. I’ve enrolled in the course couple of days ago, and there hasn’t been much to review. Do (Need proof? Click on the image to see —>)

I’ve been following Aidan Booth and Steve Clayton for quite a while and I know they’re a real deal in entrepreneurship and e-commerce. In this review, I will talk about the facts about this new business model.

The Details Of The Kibo Eclipse – Honest Review

In the past video training, you could taste this unique KIBO Eclipse business model. Aidan Booth and Steve Clayton show us, that they thought on every single thing that might hold you back. In fact, they show us a way to perform eCommerce that is unique from anything online up to date.

If you want to get the whole idea of this program, watch the REPLAY of Sunday’s LIVE-Streamed Event. In this event, you see the full overview of the KIBO Eclipse with a members area DEMO. This is a replay, of a 3.5-hour long workshop, where they showcase the 7 different components of the KIBO Code. They talk about their eCom story, the Profit Vault software, and introduce you to the early adopters of the program.

What Is The Kibo Eclipse?

Aidan told me that the Kibo Code Eclipse is:

the most convenient to understand,

the most straightforward,

most predictable,

and the most lucrative business model they have ever taught. It is e-commerce done in a different way that people have NOT seen before.

Each year since 2008, Aidan Booth & Steven C. comes up with some super-advanced programs. And this year, there will be no difference. Their most massive launch of all time was the 7 Figure Cycle in 2018, which was an enormous success. There were several critical objections that people were concerned about. And it STILL did over $11 million in sales during the launch.

Here’s a list of a few benefits of this system, which will bullet-proof the system taught in the past courses:

you don’t need to involve Amazon or Shopify,

you don’t need to work with warehouses or international suppliers,

neither do you need to run Facebook Advertisements

or worry about inventory.

Any news or the Kibo Code reviews you might read, this program eliminates all the objections. I bet this will be another masterpiece. More about it and my opinion come within my unique KIBO Eclipse review.

#The Kibo Code Review #kibo code quantum #The Kibo Code

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