#and how he has to change to the outside edge for the 3A

[persimmontea]

Shoma Uno - 3A3T (+ 3.00 GOE) at the 2017 World Championships

[colehasapen]

(CHAPTER 3) there's a river full of memory STAR WARS

Rex is on edge. It doesn’t show on his face - he’s too well trained to be obvious about his unease - but it hums in his bones and makes his skin itch, heart racing in his chest. His tongue feels glued to the top of his mouth, his lips refusing to form the shapes needed to speak, but he forces it, despite the way it makes him feel like his skin doesn’t fit his body, because he has duties to attend to and any slip up could have the Longnecks deciding to finally decommission him.

Cody and Obi-Wan didn’t check in. Rex knows from experience that not every comm call can be made, he knows that it’s not always possible to send a message, but Cody had messaged him, hours ago, with an all-green signal. They had created the signal even before their relationship with Cody’s General had begun, to assure each other that they’d made it out of their most recent mission in, mostly, one piece, and that they’d be free to comm after debriefing. But it hadn’t happened. Rex had waited for their usual time, he waited as it came and went, and his mind had spiraled into all the terrible things that could have happened to them since then. He’s been moving on autopilot ever since, going through his duties as is expected of him to his usual high standards, but most of his attention is on his comm, waiting to see if his brother or partner would call.

They don’t. Instead when his comm goes off, it’s General Skywalker who summons him down to the bridge.

He lets out an internal sigh when he steps into the room, bucket tucked under his arm, to find his General standing in front of the holos of Generals Windu and Yoda, a faint frown on his face. General Skywalker isn’t exactly subtle about his general dislike of the High Generals, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to make sure Rex would be there for his meetings as a form of emotional support. Rex respects and cares for his General, but it doesn’t mean he’s comfortable playing interference between him and the High Council, even if he would continue to do so if it was what his General needed him to do.

Rex snaps off a quick salute, “Generals.”

“Captain Rex.” General Windu greets, expression severe, and the tilt of General Yoda’s ears makes Rex nervous as he comes to a stop at General Skywalker’s elbow. When he glances at his General out of the corner of his eyes, the Jedi shrugs awkwardly, fiddling with the glove over his mech hand, like he tends to do when he is unsure.

The holo flickers - another call coming through - and when it’s accepted Cody shimmers into being. Rex jolts, catching himself before he can sway closer to his brother in alarm; Cody’s expression is flat, blank in the way Rex knows unnerves people who don’t know his older brother, but the minuscule twitching of his fingers against his thigh betrays his uneasy mental state.

“Welcome back, Commander.” General Windu is saying, but Rex barely hears it over his focus narrowing in on his brother.

Why is his brother in the call instead of General Kenobi? What had happened after Cody had sent the green signal?

General Windu crosses his arms over his chest, “How is Obi-Wan?” The question is odd; Rex doesn’t think he’d ever heard any of the High Generals refer to each other by their first name, or any other Jedi as such unless they were young or were a part of their lineage. It’s just a part of the Order’s culture, Rex had come to understand - a way to show respect. So why hadn’t General Windu used the other General’s title?

What had happened to Obi-Wan?

Cody’s eyes twitch slightly, and he folds his hands behind his back. “Resting again, sir.” Cody reports, “I have troopers looking after him right now.”

General Skywalker snorts, “You must have needed to chain him to the bed.” He says, and Cody flinches. General Windu grimaces, sharing a look with the ancient Jedi beside him, and General Skywalker’s brows furrow, eyes sharpening. “What aren’t you telling me?”

The Master of the Order sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Master Kenobi and Ghost Company were assigned to a mission to retrieve an ancient Force relic-”

“I’m aware.” Skywalker interrupts, and Rex winces at the disrespect aimed towards their superior officer, stamping down his own instinctive anxiety induced by the action. “What happened?”

Windu’s brows tilt, and he sighs. “As of three hours ago, Master Kenobi was chronologically regressed to the physical and mental age of a human child of twelve standard years.”

“What?” Skywalker cries, and Rex stiffens, fingers tightening on his helmet, eyes darting over to Cody’s hologram.

The Marshal Commander gramces, but inclines his head in a soundless nod. Rex shuts down his distress before he really gets the chance to feel it, pushing it away to a box to deal with later when no one could witness it. Rex shuts down his negative emotions, ignores the shaking of his hands around his bucket, and builds a wall around his thoughts.

Not now, he tells himself.

“Why wasn’t I told?!” General Skywalker demands.

“Regulations and protocol dictates that General Kenobi’s status was to be reported to the High Generals above all else.” Cody’s voice is monotonous and flat, but Rex knows his older brother better than he knows himself, and can read the silent apology in his words when their eyes meet.

But General Skywalker doesn’t know Cody, and the synthleather of the man’s glove creaks from the force of his fists clenching. “He’s my Master.”

General Yoda’s ears twitch, “His Padawan, you no longer are, Knight Skywalker.” The ancient Jedi says simply, effectively pulling Rex’s General’s ire towards himself instead of Cody. “The correct thing, Commander Cody did. Put feelings above duty, one cannot.”

General Skywalker gets that twist to his eyebrows that Rex knows - it’s the one that so often precedes an explosion or a Seppie patrol torn to shreds. This, however, is not a situation that requires a well-placed fire, so Rex clears his throat, drawing attention to himself instead of his General. “Sirs.” Four pairs of eyes swing towards him, and Rex tries to ignore the cold sweat gathering at the base of his neck. He forces his heavy tongue to move through years of practice. “Is General Kenobi’s-” he hesitates on the word, unsure what to use, “-state reversible?”

Please say yes , Rex begs to any possible higher power that may be listening. He’s a clone, he already owns nothing, not even his own life, but what he and Cody have with their Jedi is theirs . It’s the only thing they could ever claim. Not openly, of course, not while they were at war and Rex and his brothers were all-but slaves. The only thing stopping them from being recognized as slaves is the lack of laws recognizing them as sentient beings, but Obi-Wan treats them like humans. He lets them be themselves, like the individuals they couldn’t be outside of the protective walls of their rooms; he lets them be as soft and gentle as they could ever want to be, they can put away their weapons and the violence of their lives and just breathe.

They own nothing, but Obi-Wan had given them his heart. He had loved them and trusted them and treated them like people . It wasn’t just sex to the Jedi - if it was, he never would have chosen Rex - and for Rex and Cody, it was a sign that they could dare hope for an ‘after the war’. They could dare to dream.

Rex could dream. A farm, so much Cut and his family’s, the place where Rex had first started considering what he wanted in his life, and a peaceful life without any more fighting. No more death, no more worrying that his brothers won’t walk away from the next battle. Children, and a life without the knowledge of the suffering in war for them. But if Obi-Wan is gone , if he couldn’t be turned back, then he would take those dreams with him. Rex would keep fighting, of course, because that would be all he could do until he’d inevitably end up as just another name said during remembrances, he’d still keep fighting to hopefully see the end of the war.

It wouldn’t be the same though, not after his life had so dramatically changed the moment Obi-Wan had sauntered into it. Rex wasn’t sure how he’d manage to go back to the way he was if Obi-Wan was gone, not after he had fallen so hard for him.

General Windu’s frown is tight, “As of this moment, we do not know.” The High General says grimly, and Rex taps anxiously on his helmet, throat burning.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” General Skywalker growls, “How do you not know? You’re the Council!”

General Windu sighs through his nose, “The Council is not all-knowing, and many of our records were lost during the Sith Wars.” He rubs a hand across his jaw, and he looks exhausted enough that Rex can read it even through the holo.

Ponds would have insisted his General rest, if he was still around to do so. He probably would have dragged him to a bed by his ear - he had done it to Cody plenty when they were still cadets.

“Master Nu is scouring the Archives for any information we have on the relic, and the Council has sent Master Tholme to study the Temple where the artifact was stored.” General Windu is speaking again, and Rex mentally throws himself as far away from his thoughts of Ponds and the body lost to the void of space as quickly as he can. “We have ordered the Negotiator to return to Coruscant while the bulk of the 212th reroute to join Knight Secura, under the command of Admiral Block.” Cody nods along as the High General speaks.

“I’ve turned control over to Captain Fordo to command the ground troops.” His brother states, “Officially, Ghost Company is docking for shore leave.”

General Yoda dips his head in agreement, “Know Young Obi-Wan’s state, none can.” The ancient Jedi says seriously.

“Shouldn’t we report this to the Chancellor?” General Skywalker asks, but General Windu shakes his head.

“We cannot let news of Obi-Wan’s condition spread, for both the security of the Republic, and his own safety.”

“Chancellor Palpatine is a wise man.” Rex’s General argues, but Rex is more inclined to agree with General Windu, despite the ache in his head that follows - the sudden burst of anxiety over not reporting to the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. “I’m sure he’d be able to help,” the Knight tells the assembled command, “Obi-Wan is a General of the GAR, the Chancellor will want him to recover.”

Generals Yoda and Windu share a long, heavy stare full of words Rex will never be able to translate, before the Grand Master shakes his head, tapping his cane pointedly on the ground. “A Jedi problem, this is.” The old green Jedi says, “A Jedi solution, it needs. Know, the Chancellor cannot.” Then, the High General studies Rex and his Jedi, humming thoughtfully, “Return to Coruscant, Torrent Company will. Classes to attend, Padawan Tano has. Meditation and relaxation, you need. Shore leave, you will have.” The statement makes the clamp around his lungs loosen, and Rex lets out a quick breath of relief. “Connect with the Negotiator, you will.”

He needs to be with Cody. Cody’s the only one who understands the crushing storm bottled into his chest, and Cody needs him too; Rex can tell just by looking at the tightness in his brother’s stance that relaxes by a fraction when the Grand Master’s order comes through.

[d-criss-news]

Some three years ago, Darren Criss got into trouble questioning his identitybecause of his mixed racial heritage -- white and Filipino.

Since then, in the roles he's taken and public statements he's made, there is no doubt of his pride in being a Filipino American. In his latest project, Netflix's llmited series Hollywood, which debuts May 1 on Netflix, Criss plays Raymond Ainsley, an aspiring movie director who is half Filipino.

It would be the second Filipino American character played by Criss, whose mother is from the Philippines. In 2018, he won plaudits, including an Emmy and Golden Globe, for his portrayal of Filipino American serial killer Andrew Cunanan in American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace.

When he won his Golden Globe, he thanked his mother: “This has been a marvelous year for representation in Hollywood, and I am so enormously proud to be a teeny, tiny part of that, as the son of a firecracker Filipino woman.”

Hollywood is set in post-World War II, Tinseltown's so-called Golden Age. In reality, it wasn't a golden age for actors of color or the LGBTQ. Just Google Anna May Wong, Rock Hudson or Hattie McDaniel.

Based on the subject matter and the trailer, Criss could very well be up for awards again.

The Ryan Murphy fictional drama follows a group of aspiring actors and filmmakers as they try to make a career in the movies, amid the prejudices stacked against their race, gender, and sexualities. 

“We began a lovingly constructed look at how I wished Hollywood would have operated back then; a world where women, gay people, and people of color could flourish,” Ryan explains in a statement. “I think the world would be very different than it is today if that happened.”

Hollywood has the glitz and glamor associated with that era and features

Criss' character Raymond Ainsley is one of the main characters. Ainsley is a Filipino American passing as white., who "aspires to broaden the stories Hollywood tells." 

Criss, who admits he benefited from his looks giving him the ability to portray white characters. [I was] eager to explore what that means for somebody who passes as white in an era where that is a socio-economic advantage," Darren says. 

"What does it mean when you're given opportunities, and what is your responsibility to the people in your life who don't have access to those opportunities?" 

For those actors of color, those questions are just as relevant in 2020 as they were in 1940s Hollywood. In Raymon Ainsley, Criss appears to be answering those questions raised by his doubters. Nevertheless, perhaps because of ethnic ambiguity, outside of his legion of  Filipino American fans, Criss has not been warmly embraced by the Asian Americans since his breakout role in the TV hit Glee. Hollywoodmay change that.

The series was co-written by Janet Mock, who is part Hawaiian, and features Michelle Krusiec as Anna May Wong, the first Asian American movie star. There will also be bevy. of special-guest-star appearances by Maude Apatow, Mira Sorvino, Rob Reiner, Michelle Krusiec, and Queen Latifah, playing some of the best known actors of that era.

In addition to having one of the lead roles, Criss was also executive producer.

Hollywood debuts on Netflix beginning May 1.

[desirexwolf]

Night Before Christmas

Summary: Christmas had always been a quiet affair for the Parkers and when Peter met Tony Stark, he didn't think anything would change about that. Tony proves him wrong.

Word count: 2951

This is my entry for @irondadsecretsanta! I wrote this for the amazing @whumphoarder, happy holidays. <33

Winter had always been Peter's favorite time of the year. Ever since he could remember, December was the time of fairy lights, hot chocolate and May's burnt Christmas cookies. Ben would take Peter to pick out a Christmas tree and all three of them would decorate it afterwards. His uncle always picked Peter up to put the star on top even when Peter was already a teenager.

And then it was just May and Peter.

They spent their first Christmas after Ben's death in a diner down the street after May burnt the turkey, both of them silently wiping away tears. Neither of them really was in the Christmas spirit.

After that, May tried to give Peter a proper Christmas every year. The weeks leading up to the holidays she would take countless double shifts in the hospital to afford at least a Lego set for her nephew. It was different from what they were used to, but they made it work.

When Peter met Tony Stark, he didn't think anything would change about that.

But after the whole showdown with the vulture, the two of them got a lot closer than either of them originally anticipated. Peter regularly went to the compound for upgrades and after a while, he would spend whole weekends with Tony tinkering in his lab.

They didn't spend Christmas together, but they got each other presents and for New Year's Tony even invited him and May up to the compound.

Barely half a year later, Thanos invaded the earth. Then Titan happened.

When he woke up, five years had passed and Tony almost lost his life defeating Thanos. And now, December 23nd, he is sitting in the Stark's living room, surrounded by fairy lights in each corner of the room when a little thatch of brown hair comes rushing in and barreling into his legs.

"Petey!" Morgan climbs up on the spot next to him with a serious look on her face, skipping the greeting to focus on more serious matters. "Gerald needs a bell."

Peter grins. "Oh yeah and why is that?"

"Because someone's got a little bit too deep into the Christmas spirit while shopping," Tony calls. He enters the living room with a bag so huge he has to use both arms to carry it and drops it onto the dining table with a huff. "Isn't that right, Madam Secretary?"

Morgan just giggles.

Peter picks her up and walks over to Tony, sparing a glance into the overflowing shopping bag. "Jesus, how much did you buy?"

"Don't ask me, I just paid for the stuff. But someone else here was very convinced we could not celebrate Christmas without these," - Tony pulls out a box with obnoxiously white and pink Christmas balls - "very beautiful Hello Kitty decorations."

Morgan hides her face in Peter's neck with a mischievous smile and presses her cold nose against his skin. He wraps his left arm around her waist so he can look through the bag with the other hand, pushing through numerous fairy lights, candles and Christmas balls.

"Well, I don't see a bell," Tony quirks an eyebrow at him and Peter shrugs. "The Chef said Gerald needs a bell and I do agree. He does need a bell."

Tony scoffs. "You're supposed to agree with me here, you know?"

Peter just smiles while Morgan throws her arms around his neck in a strangling hug.

"Unbelievable, betrayed by my own blood. Savages, both of you." Tony says and wraps his arms around his daughter, pulling her away from Peter and tickling her sides.

Morgan squeals loudly and wiggles out of Tony's grasp. She slaps his hands away when he playfully jabs her side again. "Can I go look for Uncle Happy?"

"Sure you can. But don't talk him into Juice Pops before dinner, Mom sees everything, you know that!" Tony calls after her, but Morgan was already dashing out of the living room in search of her uncle.

Peter stifles a laugh and Tony turns to the teenager, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. "Yeah, laugh it up. Don't think I'm letting you off the hook, you'll help me unpack all of that."

Peter whines, but starts to take the decorations out off the shopping bag and throwing them onto the dining table. He's at his fourth packing of fairy lights when he speaks up. "Not to judge but, uh, where do you plan to put all of that?"

"The basement," Tony picks up a ginormous, fluffy elk with a Santa hat and examines it with a skeptical frown. "Pepper is going to have a fit when she sees all of that stuff, so let's pick up the pace, kiddo."

Peter grins, but keeps unpacking silently.

To be honest, Peter enjoys the overbearing Christmas spirit the Stark's have going on. And that does include all the unnecessary Christmas decorations, so he actually doesn't mind helping Tony unpack everything. Peter just hopes that May will think something similar when she joins them on Christmas Eve instead of finding it too overbearing. She was at a staff training in New Jersey over the weekend, which is why Happy had picked Peter up from school and brought him to the lake house to spend the days leading up to Christmas there.

"- Hey, kid, you listening to me?"

Peter jerks up, blinking at Tony. "Sorry, what? I- I didn't catch that."

"Yeah, I noticed," Tony smirks, but his smile is soft and his eyes held a fondness that was reserved only for his kids. "I asked how your Spanish exam went. You tired, kid?"

Now that Tony mentioned it, Peter realizes that he was tired. He had been generally exhausted for the past two weeks, but between finals and patrols he had paid that not a lot of thought. Now that he could relax, the ache in his bones became unpleasantly obvious.

"Worn out from finals, I guess." he admits sheepishly.

Tony nods and walks around the table to Peter. "Yeah, you look it." he mutters, running his flesh hand through the teenager's hair. Peter makes a sound of protest but it quickly dies down when he leans into the comforting touch. He reminds Tony of a kitten. "You wanna catch a quick nap before dinner? I got the rest of this. And

don't worry, I'll cover for you with Madam Secretary."

Peter chuckles quietly, feeling drained all of the sudden. "You sure?"

"100%. Now go before I change my mind." Tony says and gives Peter a gentle push towards the hallway before turning back to the dining table.

Peter just gives him a mock salute in return.

He can hear Morgans‘ enthusiastic chattering outside when he walks down the hallway to his room and closes the door behind him, blocking out the noise. He shuts the window for good measure as well and pulls the curtains closed before crawling under the covers. Peter falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

X

It’s already dark outside when Pepper comes home from work. Tony had thankfully managed to clear all evidence of their Christmas shopping, stuffing most of it into already overbearing corners in the hope that his wife wouldn’t notice that way.

Morgan had claimed the hideous elk they bought as hers though, dragging both Happy and the stuffed toy into the living room to play while Tony prepared dinner.

After hearing his wife greet Morgan and Happy in the room next door Pepper joins Tony in the kitchen, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Where are you hiding Peter?”

“In his room, catching up on sleep before dinner.”

Pepper hums and leans over her husband’s shoulder to peek into the cooking pot. Tony turns around, putting his hands on Peppers waist and gives her a kiss to greet her properly.

“You’re just trying to keep me away from your chili, aren’t you?” she grins up at him, wrapping her arms around Tony’s neck.

“Well, is it working? It’s the only thing I can cook, you know.”

Pepper just chuckles quietly before going in for another kiss.

Tony breaks the embrace first, picking up the wooden spoon from the counter and holding it out to his wife. “Don’t let the food scorch while I go and wake Peter.

He hands the spoon over to Pepper and sticks his head into the living room to tell Happy and Morgan that dinner’s almost ready before heading down the hallway to

Peter’s room.

Tony stops in front of the door and knocks. “Peter,” he calls out. “Dinner’s ready.”

When he doesn’t receive a response, Tony huffs and opens the door. Unsurprisingly, Peter’s room is immersed into darkness, lights shut off and the curtains drawn. It’s only from the faint light in the hallway that Tony can see the bed and Peter, completely hidden under his comforter.

Tony makes his way over to him and peels the blanket away from the heap that is Peter. Woken up from the sudden movement, the teenager blinks up at him owlishly. “Good morning, sunshine,” Tony says and sits down on the edge of the bed. “Dinner’s ready. You want to try and emerge from your cave?”

Peter groans. He sits up and rubs his eyes, curls falling loosely into his face. “I slept. Why am I still so tired?”

“Burden of being a teenager, huh?”

Peter just glares at him halfheartedly and Tony pats Peter’s calf through the blanket. “C’mon, chop chop. Dinner’s getting cold.”

With a sigh Peter moves to get up from the bed and Tony waits until he’s on his feet before leaving the room.

In the kitchen Pepper was already serving the food while Morgan’s sitting at the table. Morgan beams as Tony enters room and he blows a raspberry on her cheek while passing by her seat. She giggles, but is already distracted when Peter shuffles into the kitchen.

“Petey”, she cheers and Peter tries to smile. “You’re awake!”

If you can call it that, Tony thought. In the bright kitchen light the kid looks the worse for wear, two shades too pale and deep bags under his eyes. But even though the kid’s obviously exhausted, he still tries to keep up his banter with Morgan and sits down beside her.

Tony keeps up conversation with Pepper during dinner, she tells him that Happy had to leave before dinner because he was needed in town, but he can’t help glancing back at Peter every now and then. He’s barely touching his food and when everyone else is already finished, not even half of it is gone.

“Didn’t you like it?” Morgan wonders loudly, suspiciously eyeing Peter’s plate.

Before Peter can response, Tony chimes in. “Morguna, why don’t you go in the living room and pick out a movie we can watch,” he gets up and loops an arm around Morgan’s waist, picking her up. “That sound like a good idea?”

“Yeah!” she cheers and Tony presses a series of kisses onto her cheek before she runs into the living room.

Pepper had already begun to collect the dishes and Tony quickly jumps in to help her with dish washing. Peter now gets up as well, bringing the last bowl over to the sink before asking if he can help out.

“Oh no, sweetie, I’ve got it covered.” Pepper assures him with a smile.

Tony goes to ruffle Peter’s hair, but halts when he comes into contact with his skin. He runs his hand through the kid’s hair until he can cup the back of his head and holds Peter in place to put his lips onto his forehead.

Peter balks, but Tony doesn’t pay that any attention and instead moves back with a frown and replaces his lips with a palm to the cheek. “You’re warm.”

“What’s going on?” Pepper asks over the running water, turning her head over her shoulder.

“Kid’s coming down with something.”

“I’m not,” Peter protests, moving back so he’s out of Tony’s reach. “I’m just tired, okay? Finals were exhausting and- and patrols just take longer now because apparently no one got the memo that you don’t do crimes on Christmas and-”

“Woah kid, hey,” Tony interrupts Peter, putting his hands down on his shoulders. “It’s fine. Let’s just take it easy tonight. C’mon, we’re going to sit down on the couch, I’m sure Morgan needs help picking out a movie.”

He guides one hand down to the small of Peter’s back and steers him towards the living room, but not before throwing a subtle look over his shoulder to Pepper. She looks after Peter concerned before catching Tony’s eye and giving him a meaningful look.

Tony gets Peter settled on the couch and tellingly, Peter lets Tony manhandle him for the most part. He’s just opened out a blanket and places it over Peter when Pepper joins them and sprawls out on the seat next to Tony, pulling Morgan into her lap after she chose Nightmare Before Christmas for them to watch. Tony snorts at the irony of that.

Peter curls up onto the couch, rearranging the blanket until it covered most of Tony’s lap as well before putting his head on Tony’s shoulder. Tony moves his arm around Peter and runs his hand through Peter’s curls, discreetly pulling out his phone to check Peter’s temperature.

He rarely uses FRIDAY these days, but for occasions like this he still had her installed in the lake house. Tony didn’t need her to power the suit anymore, so she was more of a convenience than anything else.

Peter’s temperature sits around 99.8 and while that wasn’t exactly a fever, it was an elevated temperature. Tony frowns as he looks down at Peter, brushing hair away from his forehead.

“What?” Peter suddenly asks, almost slurring with tiredness, and looks up at Tony blearily.

“Hm?”

“I can feel you starring at me,” he mumbles quietly to not distract Morgan from her movie, closing his eyes again and cuddling into Tony’s chest. “S’creepy.”

Tony snorts in amusement and lowers his cheek onto Peter’s head. “Go to sleep, kiddo.”

“M’kay.”

Sometime during the movie Morgan had moved to lay on both Tony and Pepper’s laps, snoring quietly and outstretched like a starfish which, to be honest, was pretty impressive given the little space she had. Pepper was leaning against his metal arm, playing with Morgan’s hair in her lap while Peter was asleep on Tony’s chest

Tony was drifting off himself when Pepper leans in. “I’m going to bring Morgan upstairs and then go to bed,” she whispers. “You want me to wait for you?”

Tony glances at Peter, then shakes his head. “No, it’s okay.”

“Alright.”

Pepper gives Tony a goodnight kiss before lifting Morgan up into her arms. She stirs but doesn’t wake and Pepper carries her out of the room, giving him and Peter a

soft smile before closing the door behind her.

X

When Peter wakes up the next morning it’s to a splitting headache.

He opens his eyes with a low moan, blinking until his vision clears up and realizes that he’s, in fact, not in his bed. He’s sprawled out on the couch, curled up to Tony with his head on the man’s chest.

Tony’s still asleep so Peter tries to sit up without waking him, but as soon as he moves pain shoots through his head and he flinches, letting out an involuntary groan.

“Peter?” Tony asks groggily, propping himself up onto his elbow. But as soon as he sees Peter, grimacing in pain, he sits up abruptly and puts a hand on Peter’s back. “Hey, kid, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Headache.” he croaks out and Tony puts the back of his hand to Peter’s forehead.

“Shit. Friday, temperature.”

“102.4° Fahrenheit, boss.” the AI answers and Tony pats Peter’s shoulder in sympathy, the teenager whining quietly.

Tony gets up from the couch. “Sit tight, kid.”

He disappears into the kitchen and Peter falls back onto the couch, curling up around a pillow and squeezing his eyes shut.

He must have dosed off again because he startles at the sound of the curtains being pulled shut. When he opens his eyes again, the room his comfortably dark and he watches Tony sit back down on the couch holding pain killers and a glass of water.

“Here,” Tony hands both over to Peter. “How are you doing? You feel like eating?”

“Not really.”

Peter takes the painkillers and drinks about half the glass of water before he puts it down on the coffee table. Tony’s not taking his eyes off him, face set into a worried frown.

“C’mon, say it.” Peter sighs.

“Say what?”

“That you were right and told me that I was coming down with something beforehand”, Peter settles down against the back off the couch and Tony moves to sit beside him. “I’m ruining Christmas.”

Tony ducks his head to meet Peter’s eyes. “You’re not ruining anything, kiddo, okay? I’ll take care of you and you’ll be fine by tomorrow, just wait. We'll make it work, I promise.”

Tony puts an arm around Peter and pulls him back against his side. Peter cuddles up to him again, resting his head on Tony’s chest while he pulls the blanket back over Peter. “You just rest now. I’m not going anywhere.” At the end of the day, Peter is still sick on Christmas Eve. He's running a decent fever and Tony dotes on him like a mother hen, making him broth and massaging his scalp to try and ease the headache while Morgan brings him Juice Pops he can't eat because he's nauseous. He wouldn't have it any other way.

My very tiny, very cute taglist of very tiny, very cute people (let me know if you want to be tagged for future works): @baloobird @toomuchtoread33 @fourleafchloe @gabesgoldwings @starbirks @yepokokfine ​@thatmarvelstan @autisticbabynurse @crytallized @mysterio-is-a-little-bitch @sbiderman-ironcan @iron-damn

[gogogogolev]

Yana’s interview with Stephen from 2020 Junior Worlds.

JWC: An interview with Stephen Gogolev

I returned from the World Junior Championships yesterday. The main events were nerve wracking! For Stephen Gogolev it was especially worrying - I've liked him for a long time but this season did not work out. Injuries, poor results, and in the end, even JWC did not go according to the plan and ended with a disrupted FS. Seeing Stephen crying in the kiss and cry and the mixed zone was painful. This is my second JWC, and the first one was the same. In one year Stephen (aka Stepa*) grew up, but he is still a child, which is why my heart was breaking.

Heart break. My photo.

The good news - Stephen moved on quickly. In the mixed zone journalists distracted him with other questions, and by the end he was smiling with wet eyes, and the next day when we met for an interview he was no longer sad and laughed shyly.

I noticed that many people have no idea where Stephen was born, where he lived, or what language he speaks. Russians are surprised that he speaks Russian, Americans are impressed he speaks English "with no accent at all!". So a quick summary:

Stephen Gogolev was born 22.12.2004 (the same day as me, but a few years later :)) in Toronto, Canada. He's 15 years old. He lived in Yekaterinburg for a while, where he also competed. When he returned to Canada he trained at the Toronto Cricket Club, where he made a breakthrough in learning advanced elements: 3A and 4S at 11 years old. For some time he showed stunning results, jumping 4Lz, 4T, and 4S3T, and winning medals at major tournaments. Then, sometime around last season, something went wrong. Instability, falls, and injuries.

This off-season Stephen moved to Rafael Arutunian, coach of Nathan Chen, with whom he has been training in Calfornia as of the 2019-2020 season.

He speaks Russian with his parents. In Russian he has a light and cute accent. Occasionally he may not understand some convoluted ideas in Russian, or use an English word to more easily express himself. And so, of course, English is Stephen's native language.

At training. My photo.

Let's move on to the interview!

In the free skate something happened with the boot, after which the program unravelled. If, after the SP, Rafael Vladimirovich seemed frustrated by Stepa's mistake (a pop on the Axel), now he looked anxious. He anxiously looked at Stephen's feet as soon as he skated to the boards:

My photo

Yes, and Stephen himself, immediately after mistakes on the jumps in the free skate, looked down uncomprehendingly.

When he - with tears in his eyes - went out to the mixed zone, Arutunian approached him and said: "Give it to me later, ok?" Then I realized it was about the skates. Spectators described how Rafael went to the Edea booth in the rink lobby and spoke with them about something.

***

-What happened to the boot?

-The tongue of the boot broke. When I put the toe pick in for the Lutz, I felt it break. Bent here [points to the fold of the tongue], like when skates break down over time...

After the FS

-Will you change your [boot] company?

-We will solve the problem with the tongue with Edea and see. Maybe it's just some kind of problem with the pair they gave me.

-How did you decide it was time to change your coach?

-I wanted to make a change, because I thought I had to try something new. The training itself, how I train, the whole plan. Not that they didn't work for me**...But I wanted to.

The differences between Toronto and California...Probably in how to work, in the schedule, what to do at each training session, in general, in almost all aspects.

-What language do you speak?

-Rafael Vladimirovich and I speak Russian.

-You've decided to take your time to do all the quads?

-When I was in Toronto I landed all kinds of quads but I didn't train them all. How we work [now with Arutunian]: if I'm ready and can jump it 100%, we jump it. If we feel that we are a little unsure, we will not do it.

-You've grown a lot, you don't know how much?

-In a year or so I probably grew 12 centimetres. Now I'm 168-169 cm.

<There's a bit about comparing heights here.>

-Do you feel that growth problems affect you?

-There are no such strong changes, but a couple of small changes are felt, sometimes... It just feels different than it used to feel, it's hard to explain.

-What style of programs do you like best?

-For as long as I have been skating I like a lot of styles. Modern? ...Modern.*** [Speaks with emphasis in English] I liked my short program this year [sailor's dance "Yablochko"] and my free program [a medley of songs by contemporary composer Peter Gabriel] as well.

-In the short program you worked with Nadezhda Kanaeva: Have you ever skated like this before, or was it tough?

-This was a new style of skating that I hadn't tried yet. Such dancing.

-It seems hard to keep pace with all these steps?

-Yes, sometimes it happens, in the beginning I was a bit behind and in a hurry.

-It seems to me that your spins have become more centred...

-Well, I started working on spins and all the components of figure skating.

-Do you like spins?

-I don't really like them, but I'm trying to push myself. :) [Laughs] My favourite position - probably, sit spin, [and] no least favourite. I remember when I was learning that I was not very good with the scratch spin.

-Favourite jump?

-Probably Axel. Like it best [Laughs, remembering that it was on the Axel he made a mistake] My mistake was in the short, because I didn't seem to be doing very well with Lutz when I got here, and I focused very much on the Lutz, and it turned out that I lost the jump.

In the SP, after the Axel, I didn't even understand what happened. [Laughs] And I had one of the most consistent*** [confident] jumps, and I did not understand what happened at all, and tried to skate the program further.

[In the FS] When I started to go for the Axel after the Lutz I began to slip off the outside edge, probably because the boot relaxed; it became much softer. And I tried to go very cautiously into the Axel, and...that's how it happened.

-In California, what do you like to do after skating? The beach is nearby, the sun is shining every day...

-I'm interested in surfing and mountain biking. There are mountains there, not like those in Europe, but they exist. And usually I train in the morning 3-3.5 hours on ice, an hour of physical training, then I go home and do homework.

I don't go to school because the schedule doesn't match up with my training. I am doing an American online school, but the systems (Canadian and American) are quite similar. I'm in grade 10 now; there are 12 of them.

-Do you intend to skate until the Olympics?

-Which Olympics? [Laughs]

-So, two Olympics at least, this is aready encouraging.

-We'll see how it goes. I want to go to university later. I'm very good at math. My favourite subject is probably mathematics. It happens sometimes that if I miss something in a program, I sometimes have to look at how many repetitions there will be, and count them. It's good.

***

Stephen in an interview

After the interview came a long and exciting day, the gold of the women's singles was awarded - I will write about this later. And Stephen must have gone for a stroll around Tallinn because he was now totally free.

A very nice guy, a little shy with older people, but incredibly pleasant. And his smile - a miracle :) and the greenest eyes in the whole competition!

I told him, 'See you next season' (possibly. Since Stephen said he hasn't decided yet whether he's going to seniors). And if we don't meet next season, then at the Olympics. It will not be easy to get there, but I really hope Stepa will be able to make it by then, and everything will be fine for him. :)

* Stepa is actually pronounced Styopa. ** I'm not sure about this line. He is using a double negative here. *** Said in English.

So this interview confirms one thing I postulated: that the 3Lz was the reason Stephen popped his 3A in the SP.

I am curious to know if Stephen ever wrote the Gauss contest when he was younger?

We'll have to see where Stephen goes to university.

The next few years are going to be busy times for him. We wish him luck in his skating and his studies.

[lazuliblade]

Skate Canada 2019 (livestream watching Men’s SP)

Stayed up to (groggily) watch the Pair’s and Men’s practice at 3-something AM here. I really enjoyed the commentary and it’s always nice to see the skaters going through things without as much pressure. It was interesting to hear Ted and Jaime discussing stuff and pointing out good things each skater do. Little things like how some male partners set down their lady partner really abruptly from a lift, and some have a very soft way of doing it. Or saying that pops are a muscle twitch and how it’s a coach’s nightmare when one of their skaters has become subconsciously used to popping - “do you get angry? Give encouragement? Talk technique?”Jaime then mentioning how one of the first, basic things he learned coaching is “do something, you can’t just stand there staring.”

And of course, when Yuzu got on the ice in the second warm-up group, Ted going all breathless and saying: “I’m never ready for Yuzu’s skating” describing it as “ethereal and vaguely impossible” and both agreeing that when you’re commentating, that the “smorgasbord of words” they use as commentators isn’t enough. Ted praising the manner in which Yuzu uses momentum to move, adding that there’s never been a skater that looks so effortless.

I managed to wake up in time to catch the Men’s SP this morning but missed nearly the entire first group because of stream issues... I noted down wonky jumps as usual, but things that stood out:

Brendan Kerry. I heard the sesame street music in the practice, but it’s another thing to see it being performed for points. I’m going to have that song stuck in my head all day long now. It wasn’t... the best skate. I felt like his movements weren’t sharp enough? Or not...directed? Polished? Maybe as a result of losing energy from the failed jumps. Kudos to him for pulling through it all. Hoping he comes back with a vengeance in the Free.

I will probably never get over Keiji’s shirt this season. It’s oh-so-very patternful. Amazing. It seemed he was missing a bit of fire, but I still enjoyed his skate. He moved well and I love how sharp his program ending is. There was that 4S-->3S pop and 3Lz3T-->3Lz2T pop, but I’m just glad he’s well enough to skate. Nam’s jumps were landed, so I’m thankful for that, but man. The axis on that 4S3T was strange and the 3A free leg almost looked as if he touched the ground. After his jumps he really started selling the program. It was nice to see him smiling out there. I should’ve gotten used to it by now, but every time I see him I still can’t help noticing how tall he’s grown. He was (trying to) flirt(?) with the audience and that was amusing. Camden went clean! His skating was quite emotive. One of my favorite moments was actually the Kiss&Cry. It was so heartening to see how overjoyed they all were when he received his scores. It was funny how he had his mouth hanging open for so long that his coach(?) put a hand over his mouth and they burst into more laughter.

Yuzu’s program was amazing. For some skaters, the SP feels like it takes a while to get through, but with Yuzu, it always passes in a blink. He starts, he does his jumps, he has that final flurry rush of steps and emotion, and then boom it’s over. It’s so good you don’t realize how quickly time passes. As Brian said: “a good start.” His 4S flew across the ice and that exit was incredible. Such a deep outside edge with a surreal amount of exiting speed, but he held it without batting a lash. And his 3A was so impossibly light and easy. It looked like no big deal, like he jumps 3As in his sleep, like it was child’s play. I had a split-second moment after he landed it, where I was struck by something recent. The best way I can describe what it felt like seeing that was like when you work and work and work on a difficult passage of a piece so often that one practice session you pick up your instrument and play that difficult part by memory - and it flows like water, clear and accurate. A bit of a lean on the 4T in his 4T3T combo, with a bit of a spread eagle save, but not jarring. I love how happy he was in the StSq, he was smiling wide and that little hop-jump looked like he was filled with joy having fun playing on the ice. Seeing Brian, Yuzu, and Ghislain laughing and giggling in the K&C over his StSq was amusing.  When it replayed on the screen, they all made a noise of recognition and Brian was like "yeah, that cluster there" and “but you stayed on one foot!"

Matteo..... Oh his jumps... the protocols have the numbers, but yeah. He didn’t fall on the 4T, but it was an underrotated two-foot thing. His 3A was nice. And then he fell on his 3Lz and lost the chance for a combo. And it put him off the music by half a beat or so, so he ended half a second past the music. On the bright side, he didn’t quit on the performance! AND he’s the only guy to get a StSq4 here, so there’s that.

Deniss had a good skate. His opening 3F3T was kind of crazy because it almost looked like he could have crashed into the camera, but he didn’t, so that’s what counts. 3A was nice and his final 3Lz was held. Of course, his spins are great and that flying sit spin was so fast and centered in that cool position he usually uses. He really got into the music during the StSq and I love how he was singing along to it at some points.

I can’t believe I missed Julian.... I’ll have to see if I can go back and watch the rest of the first group I missed. Edit: Oh, and one tiny thing. I like the change to Yuzu’s costume. I wasn’t particularly bothered by the ruffly cloth on his chest in ACI, but it is more streamlined now.

[notebookfilledwithscrabbles]

Worlds 2019 – Yuzuru Hanyu SP by J SPORTS

Translation post 19

Original language: Japanese

Translator’s note: This is not a word-for-word translation. I paraphrased some of the things said in the broadcast to clarify the main point.

Announcer: Chizuru Kobayashi. She is a freelancer who has been working for figure skating programs on J SPORTS for years.

Commentator: Makoto Okazaki. ISU Technical Specialist and a coach. He won a bronze medal at 2001 Winter Universiade as a singles skater and has been contributing figure skating columns titled "岡崎真の目 (Eyes of Makoto Okazaki)" to Sponichi.

(Hanyu listening to Brian)

Kobayashi: We are broadcasting ISU World Figure-skating Championships 2019, Men's short program, covering all the skaters. This year, they compete in Saitama Super Arena.

(Hanyu touches Pooh after he stretched his body hanging on to the board)

Kobayashi: Now group 6, the final group of the skaters will start performing.

(Hanyu goes to the starting position after PA announcer called his name)

Kobayashi: The first skater of the final group is Yuzuru Hanyu of Japan. He is going to present this program in Japan for the first time in this season.

(Hanyu starts his performance)

Kobayashi: (t/n: His program title is) Otonal.

(The doubled Salchow)

Okazaki: Oh, no! That was a double Salchow... It looked like the take-off edge was not running as smooth as always.

(3A) 

Okazaki: Triple Axel. Excellent. Well-controlled.

(4T-3T)

Okazaki: Quad-toe... triple-toe. Lightly executed. Brilliant.

(FCSp) 

Okazaki: Flying-camel spin entered from toe arabian... Camel upward, camel sideways. Completed 8 revolutions. This is a level 4 spin.

(CSSp) 

Okazaki: Sit spin with difficult entry. Jumped on the same foot. This is a change-foot sit spin. Sit sideways, sit behind. Didn't lose speed until he finished rotating. This one also is a level 4 spin.

(Stsq) 

Okazaki: Step sequence. Right twizzle, rocker, counter. He looked a bit caught while doing twizzle but how will it be judged? Left rocker, counter, loop.

(CCoSp) 

Okazaki: Changed edge while spinning in camel position. A variation in a non-basic position. This is a change-foot combination spin. Sit forward, upright straight. A level 4 spin.

 (After Hanyu’s performance)

Kobayashi: That was Yuzuru Hanyu of Japan, the winner of two consecutive Olympic titles, and the two-time World Champion.

Okazaki: Hmm... I feel bad about the opening Salchow... It was a costly mistake.

Kobayashi: Yes…

Okazaki: I thought his speed was perfect as he went into the jump, but it looked like the take-off edge was not running smooth enough... so I guess he could not coordinate the timing of taking off and pulling in.

Kobayashi: Uh-huh.

Okazaki: But he skated the rest of the program solidly, without panicking...

Kobayashi: Yes...

Okazaki: ...as if it were nothing. I thought that represents who he is.

(Hanyu leaving the ice)

Kobayashi: This is his first competition in 4 months. ...He is sweating so much.

Okazaki: Yes.

 (During the replay of the highlights)

(The take-off of the opening Salchow)

Okazaki: This is the moment I referred to earlier. This is where I thought the edge wasn't running smooth... and he involuntarily checked out, it seems.

(Triple Axel)

Okazaki: He went into this Axel right after a back outside counter and then went out of it twizzling on his landing foot. The overall flow was splendid.

Kobayashi: Indeed.

(Ice Scope data:  Distance 3.62m, Height 0.70m, Running speed out of the Jump 15.3km/h)

(4T-3T)

Okazaki: This is the quad-toe... triple-toe. There's no problem.

Kobayashi: Yes.

(Donut spin, highlights of Stsq and the last spin)

Kobayashi: When he went into this step sequence, the audience reacted wildly.

Okazaki: Yes, it was intense. This step sequence was very energetic. I felt his determination in it.

Kobayashi: I agree. This program is filled with so many feelings toward Mr. Johnny Weir, his idol. ...After all, it's the opening jump... (t/n: that we are concerned about)

Okazaki: Yes...

Kobayashi: You cannot earn any point when you did a double jump... (t/n: as a solo jump in the SP)

Okazaki: That's right...

(Ghislain, Brian, and Hanyu in the Kiss and Cry)

Okazaki: He was supposed to earn more than 10 points with that jump, including the GOE.

Kobayashi: Yes...

Okazaki: So...

Kobayashi: His jumps can earn huge GOE...

Okazaki: Yes.

(PA announcer announces his scores)

Kobayashi: He scored 94.87. He is currently in 1st place.

Okazaki: Well, his scores are still pretty high, as expected.

Kobayashi: Yes, indeed, and it makes us think what if he nailed the jump...

Okazaki: His best score is over 110. So, if you simply deduct the points he could have earned with a quad Salchow from his best score, the result would be close to this score, right?

Kobayashi: Yes.

Okazaki: This makes us realize again that figure skating is, after all, on another level now.

Kobayashi: Yes, indeed. So far in this competition, we have seen two skaters earning more than 94 points and three skaters earning more than 90.

[chuffyfan87]

It's Not Me Is It? Part 3a

Not a word was spoken as Charlie followed Duffy into the room. He sat down on the edge of the bed and watched as she placed the tray on the desk and pulled out the chair to sit on. Reacting to her continued silence he turned his head to explore the room, his eyes quickly adapting to the low light coming from the lamp on the desk. He smiled softly as his gaze came to rest on his daughter who was snuggled up fast asleep in the bed, her hair falling over her face as she sucked her thumb.

Duffy sipped her tea and watched Charlie. Seeing the way he looked at Charlotte made her heart ache. She hadn't meant to hurt him by keeping it all a secret, she'd just... Well, she didn't know what she'd meant to do really. At first her actions had been propelled by fear but over time it had simply become habit, every passing day making it harder to come clean to him.

"Were you just going to not tell me til she was eighteen and suddenly turned up on my doorstep?" He whispered bitterly.

His tone instantly struck a nerve. "If you've just come to pick a fight then you can bugger off!" She hissed, trying to keep her voice low so as not to wake Charlotte.

"Duffy..." He sighed. "Do you honestly expect me not to be angry about this?"

"So this is all about you is it?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"You saw what I went through when Baz took Louis away and yet you still chose to lie to me."

"What would you have done if I had told you?"

"I would have been there for you and them..." He began.

"You'd have 'done the right thing' you mean?" She interrupted bitterly.

"Yes! But you didn't even give me the chance." He sighed.

"I'm not prepared to be settled for Charlie. You made it quite clear who you wanted and it wasn't me."

Charlie sighed. "I thought you felt it was a mistake. I didn't want to make things worse or more awkward."

"You just left, you didn't really give me chance to say much of anything!" She shot back.

Charlie rubbed at the back of his neck. This wasn't getting them anywhere! An awkward silence fell over them as Duffy ate the toast and finished her tea.

Charlotte rolled over in her sleep but didn't wake up.

"Tell me about her." Charlie whispered, changing the direction of the conversation, his eyes fixed on the little girl once more.

"What do you want to know?" Duffy asked, a small smile pulling at the edge of her lips.

"Everything!" He laughed softly. "What does she like to do? When and where was she born?" There were so many things he wanted to ask but he didn't want it to seem like an inquisition.

"Her birthday is May 5th and she was born in Auckland. She loves looking at picture books and running around at the beach. She has lots of friends at the local playgroup we go to twice a week. She's very kind and thoughtful but can also be so cheeky when she wants to be!" Duffy laughed.

"That doesn't surprise me!" Charlie chuckled. "Is she the reason you left Cambodia and went back to New Zealand?"

Duffy nodded. "After what happened with Paul I knew it wouldn't be a good idea to give birth in Cambodia. I originally planned to go back afterwards but the boys were beginning to hate being in Thailand so I made the decision to stay in Auckland and make occasional visits back to the clinic when I could."

"She's a well travelled little lady then?" He smiled. "She looks just like you."

Duffy blushed. "Everyone says that but I see so much of you in her too. Not quite as much as I see in Paul but I guess it's just a matter of time."

Charlie looked up to catch Duffy's eye. "I really wish things had been different." He sighed.

"With the two of us trying to play happy families together?" She couldn't help the edge in his voice.

"Why are you so convinced it would have been a disaster that you weren't even prepared to try?"

"Neither of us has ever been able to make a relationship work for more than five minutes. I didn't want to risk losing you as a friend. It was too much of a gamble."

"Have you ever stopped to consider why our relationships have always failed?"

"Is this where you tell me you've been secretly in love with me for years and that no-one compares to me no matter how hard you try?" She retorted sarcastically.

"And have you laugh in my face? No thanks!" He shot back as he stood up and headed towards the door. There was just no point arguing when she was in this kind of mood.

"And you complain that I'm the one that always runs away..!" She mocked.

"There's no point Duffy. You just seem determined to punish me. I've told you I'm sorry but that's still not enough. I thought I knew you as well as I know myself but it seems not because before today I would never have thought you capable of such cruelty."

Duffy sprang to her feet. "How dare you! How bloody dare you! You think you're so high and mighty that you can just glide through life from one woman to the next unable to make up your mind and then you have the audacity to sulk when one of us decides we're done with your shit and don't want to expose innocent children to it!"

"My shit?! You're not exactly an angel yourself Duffy! You'd rather try and raise four kids by yourself like you're some kind of bloody superwoman than let someone else into your life. I shouldn't really be surprised, it's exactly what you did to Andrew too!"

This time Charlie saw the slap coming and was able to catch hold of her wrist split seconds before it made contact. They were practically toe to toe, their faces so close that despite the dim light he could see the fire burning in her eyes that matched the one that was fast igniting within him once more...

Her closeness and fire were intoxicating to him. He closed to gap between them and captured her lips with his own. Several moments passed as they became lost in the kiss, their tongues fighting for dominance before she pulled back slightly.

"You arrogant son of a bitch!" She hissed but she didn't fight to remove herself from his arms.

"You love it really." He replied smugly.

"In your dreams!" Duffy retorted as she stepped away from him and went over to Charlotte who was becoming restless from all the noise. "Ssh sweetheart go back to sleep." She soothed as the little girl's eyelids flickered open.

"Mama?" Charlotte mumbled sleepily.

"I'm sorry princess, we didn't mean to wake you up." Duffy sighed, rolling her eyes as Charlie's phone began to ring.

Charlie glanced at his phone. Why was work ringing him now? "I'll, um, I'll take this outside." He mumbled, heading out into the corridor but leaving the door slightly ajar. "Hello?" He answered, sighing as Duffy slammed the door shut behind him.

Charlotte's face screwed in confusion as she watched her mum. She rubbed at her eyes. "Mama?"

"Yes princess?" Duffy replied as she sat down on the bed.

"Who that man?"

"He's..." Duffy hesitated. "He's... My friend." She sighed.

"Why you sad?" Charlotte asked, shifting to lay her head in her mum's lap.

"I'm OK." Duffy sighed, absentmindedly wrapping her daughter's curls around her fingers.

"Love you mama." Charlotte murmured as she cuddled closer.

The little girl had almost fallen asleep again when there was a light knock on the door.

"Go away!" Duffy sighed.

"Duffy, please!" Charlie replied. "I need to talk to you, its important!"

"Charlie, I'm tired. Won't Louis be starting to wonder where you are?"

"He's at summer camp." Charlie sighed. "Please will you just open the bloody door? This is ridiculous!"

"Just go Charlie! So help me if you wake my daughter up again..."

"Our daughter, Duffy, you can't keep running away from that!"

Charlie sighed as he received no reply. He really didn't want to have to do this through a closed door but she was leaving him with no choice. "Duffy... That call was from the hospital. Megan has been admitted. It... It doesn't look good..." He choked out.

Duffy gasped. "I swear if this is a ploy to get me to let you back in..." She muttered as she opened the door. The rest of her words died on her lips as she saw Charlie's face. "No..!" She whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

Charlie held out his arms towards her as she crumpled into his embrace, her tears breaking free and running down her cheeks. "Come with me to the hospital?" He suggested softly.

Duffy nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she re-entered the room, emerging moments later with a sleepy looking Charlotte.

Very little was said by either as Charlie drove the familar route to the hospital and pulled up in his usual parking space. He was about to climb out of the car when suddenly Duffy reached out and grasped his hand.

"She has to be OK. I'm not ready..." Duffy whispered, her voice small and breaking.

Charlie pulled her into a hug, placing a soft kiss on her hair. "We'll do this together." He promised.

"OK." Duffy replied before getting out of her seat and moving towards the back of the car.

"Please let me..?" Charlie asked as he opened the back door of the car.

Duffy nodded, allowing Charlie to pick up Charlotte and carry her.

Charlie's heart swelled with love as the little girl moved to wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder.

They entered the department and Charlie quickly located Tess. "Can you take us through to Megan?" He asked.

Tess nodded, giving Charlie a bemused look at his companions.

Noticing the look Duffy forced a smile at the other woman. "Hi, I'm Duffy. I, um, used to do your job." She explained.

"Oh, you're Duffy..!" Tess replied.

Duffy's eyebrow rose in response, her eyes narrowing as she turned to Charlie for an explanation.

"Tess, um, she was working here when I went over to help you with the clinic."

"I see." Duffy commented though her tone betrayed the fact that she wasn't completely convinced.

They arrived at the doors to resus. "Would you like me to keep an eye on her whilst you go in?" Tess offered, turning to Duffy.

Duffy hesitated. The nurse in her knew that resus was no place for a three year old but at the same time she wasn't comfortable with leaving Charlotte with someone she'd just met.

"How about if Tess stays right here with Charlotte so you can still see her through the doors?" Charlie suggested.

Duffy reluctantly agreed but she turned away as Charlie handed Charlotte over.

Charlie reached out to wrap a comforting arm around Duffy's shoulder as he guided her into resus.

Duffy looked around the room that up until a few years ago had been like a second home to her for so long. The comfort of the familar was quickly replaced by stomach churning fear as she took in Megan lying attached to so many wires and machines. Seeing the tools of her trade attached to a cherished friend was something she'd never get used to.

Charlie stepped towards the bed and gently took hold of the older woman's hand. "Megan, we're here." He whispered. Noticing that Duffy was rooted to the spot he reached out with his other hand, taking hold of hers and moving it so that it was nestled between his and Megan's.

Duffy smiled softly, taking great comfort in the familiar warmth of Charlie's hand. Despite the mess they'd made of things between them she couldn't help but feel at home when she was with him. Maybe that's why she'd pushed him away - the fear of becoming so reliant on that feeling for comfort once more. She lay her head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry." She whispered.

Charlie turned and placed a light kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry too."

"There's so many things I want to say." Duffy sighed squeezing Megan's fingers.

"I know what you mean. Too many things have been left unsaid for too long. She said I needed to let you speak and actually listen to what you say." He sighed. "I've not done a very good job of that have I?"

Duffy chuckled lightly. "Neither of us has ever been much good at that really."

"Please let me be a part of their lives. And yours."

"How do you plan to do that?" She asked.

"Come home Duffy." He begged. "Come back to Holby and we can make things work."

"I can't just rip the boys out of school and uproot them from everything they know."

"You did just that when you originally decided to run away to New Zealand with Ryan and then again when that all went tits up and you decided to move to Cambodia."

Duffy pulled her hand away and step back from him. "You still can't cope with the fact that I decided there was a life for me beyond these walls. You're still stuck and one day very soon this is all you'll have left. You'll be a bitter old man with nothing to show for his life."

"She's got a point Charlie." Megan remarked in a croaky whisper.

"Megan!" Charlie gasped.

"Must you two fight when I'm trying to sleep?" Megan grumbled.

"Sorry." They both mumbled, chastised.

"I'd like to go home now." Megan asserted.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea..." Duffy began.

"I've spent enough of my life in this hospital, I don't intend to die here too."

"You can't go home by yourself though." Charlie countered.

"Lucky I know a couple of highly qualified nurses then isn't it?"

Duffy rolled her eyes. "Subtle Megan." She smirked.

"Indulge an old lady in her final days?" Megan smiled.

"Please stop talking like that!" Duffy begged, her voice breaking.

"Time to face facts Duffy." Megan sighed, growing tired.

"If you rest for a while I'll go see what I can do." Charlie offered.

Megan nodded, realising she'd have to play it Charlie's way if she was to have a chance of getting what she wanted.

"Keep an eye on her and make sure she behaves!" Charlie remarked to Duffy. "I'll be back shortly." He added before leaving resus.

"I don't know what he thinks I'm going to do." Megan grumbled.

"I think we've both learnt never to underestimate you." Duffy replied. "You're supposed to be sleeping."

"Hmm..." Megan retorted dismissively. Silence descended and Duffy pulled up a chair. She thought Megan had fallen asleep when suddenly the older woman spoke again. "I'm so pleased you came back."

"As soon as I read your letter I knew I'd never forgive myself if I didn't." Duffy admitted.

"You and Charlie really need to sort things out."

"It's not quite that simple." Duffy sighed.

"That's only because you two insist on making things so complicated."

"How is it not complicated? Me and the kids live in Auckland and he lives here. I can't just uproot them because he's the most bloody stubborn person I've ever met!"

"He's not the only one who's stubborn Duffy."

"So you're taking his side..?"

"I'm not taking anyone's side, pet."

"Urgh!" Duffy ran her hands through her hair. "This was all so much easier before today." She sighed.

"Easier maybe but neither of you can be truly happy til it's all out in the open and resolved."

"I don't have a clue how I'm going to resolve this." Duffy admitted.

"Well you've taken the first step by telling Charlie that he's Charlotte and Paul's dad." Spotting the look of shock on Duffy's face Megan continued. "Yes I know all about that little secret too. Anything else you fancy confessing to whilst we're here?" Megan asked pointedly.

"With Paul I honestly wasn't sure for a long time." Duffy sighed. "I know that doesn't make me sound very good so feel free to judge my 'loose morals'..."

[the-real-xmonster]

Combo and Sequence

Thanks to a certain dude named Yuzuru Hanyu who recently performed a quad toe loop - triple Axel thing in his free skate, my inbox / private messages are full of people who are baffled by jump combinations and jump sequences (thanks, Yuzu, for complicating our lives, what would we ever do without you). I don’t blame you guys, because the IJS’s take on this topic, as it goes in the technical handbook, is, at best, confusing, and at worst, total mumbo-jumbo to anyone who isn’t fluent in ISU-speak (it’s an esoteric cousin who only vaguely resembles English).

So, below, you will find my attempt at translating ISU-speak into everyday English, regarding combos and sequences, what their definitions are, what rules apply to them, and how they are scored.

The Definition

Now, in the common figure skating nomenclature, a jump combination and a jump sequence both refer to a group of two or more jumps performed in succession. The difference between a combination and a sequence is whether or not there is a change of edge between the landing of the first jump and the takeoff of the second jump, and between the second and third jump, so on. If there is no change of edge, it’s a combination, if there is at least one change of edge, it’s a sequence.

I’ve talked about the most common jump combinations in this post so feel free to go through it if you need to refresh your knowledge. 

As for jump sequences, up until last season, the ISU used to accept just about everything, as long as (1) the jumps are connected by only a hop or an unlisted jump, (2) the rhythm is maintained, and (3) there is no obvious turn/step/skating movement in between. So this one, for example, would have qualified as a sequence:

That’s a 4T+1Lo+4T Yuzu attempted for fun (yeah, right) back in the Worlds 2017 gala finale. A question might pop up here about why I do not call it a jump combination even though it looked like one. The answer is: because the half-loop was landed on the left back inside edge, and Yuzu’s second quad toe was taken off from the right back outside edge, so there was a change of edge involved in that cluster. If he had followed it up with a quad Salchow then that would have been a combo.

From the 2018-2019 season, however, the ISU has narrowed down their definition of jump sequences to include only clusters which contain one listed jump, followed by one step, followed by an Axel. That step in between must be a direct move from the landing curve of the first jump (right back outside) to the takeoff curve of the Axel (left forward outside). The final product is something that looks like this:

Quad toe, landed on right back outside >> one direct step to left forward outside >> triple Axel takeoff. 

The key things to keep in mind about this new requirement are (1) a sequence cannot contain more than 2 jumps, (2) the second jump, obviously, has to be an Axel, and (3) crucially, only a direct step is allowed between the jumps.

No.3 is crucial because under that rule, a sequence like this

, performed with a small hop in between the first jump and the Axel, is no longer valid as a jump sequence. So in that 4T+3A sequence Yuzu did in Origin, the 3A is actually one level more difficult than the ones he used to do previously in ice shows, since he had to take off for it a lot faster, with no breathing room to steady himself in between.

Scoring Principle

The base value of a jump combination is the sum total of base value of all jumps in the combination. The scale of value used to convert its raw GOE into final GOE is the SOV of the jump with the highest BV in the combination, after edge calls and under-rotations calls (if any) have been taken into account. Pretty straightforward, right? The BV of a 3F+3T combo is (5.30 for the 3F + 4.20 for the 3T) = 9.60 points. The SOV applied on that combo is the SOV of a 3F, from -2.65 minimum to +2.65 maximum. If, however, the 3F is called as either under-rotated or wrong edge, its BV would be reduced to 3.98, which is lower than the value of a fully rotated 3T, so the GOE for a 3Fe+3T combo would be converted to final score using the SOV of a 3T, ranging from -2.10 to +2.10.

The base value of a jump sequence is the sum total of the jumps’ BV multiplied by 80%, presumably because sequences are on the whole easier than combinations, or at least that’s what the ISU believes. Same principle on SOV applies.

The Requirement / Limitation

Short Program

At the senior level, a short program must include a combination of 

For the men: 4-3, 4-2, 3-3, 3-2

For the ladies: 3-3 or 3-2

These choices are all reversible, because under the IJS, the order of the jumps in a combo doesn’t matter, i.e., a 2T+4T is basically regarded as the same as a 4T+2T (yeah I know, it’s not the most logical thing in the world to assume but here we are) so a 2-3 combo, for example, is also a legal jumping pass.  

Any jump outside of these options is considered invalid. Invalid jumps get marked with an asterisk (*) in the protocol and receive no credit. A few common scoring cases where you can see the impact of this rule: 

Case 1: A lady performs a quad-triple in her SP. She’d get zero BV for the quad.

Case 2: A skater performs a three-jump combination in their SP, say, 3-3-3. The extra jump would receive zero BV.

Case 3: A skater attempts a triple-triple in their SP, but pops the second triple into a single (like what Alina did the other day in her SP at GP Helsinki). The single jump is invalidated and receives zero BV.

Case 4: A skater performs a 2-2 in their SP. The double jump with the lower BV, after consideration of edge and under-rotation calls, will be invalidated. 

Case 5: A skater fails to put any of their non-Axel jumps into a combination (like what happened to Zhenya at Skate Canada). During the performance, the technical panel would mark the second solo jump as receiving zero BV (which is what you’d see in the TES tracker in the TV broadcast). After the performance, the technical panel would identify which of the two solo jumps was intended as a combo, and if there is no way to tell which, they’d pick the latter jump. That jump would be marked with a +COMBO note on the protocol

Case 6: A skater lands their first jump, does an invalid movement in between, (e.g., stumbling, touching down with the hands/knees - anything that involves a “weight transfer”, per ISU terminology, off the landing foot) then takes off for their second jump (like Yuzuru did in his SP at Worlds 2017). That cluster is marked as first jump+COMBO+second jump, and the jump performed after the invalid movement receives no credit.

Note that two three-turns in between the jumps actually count as an acceptable movement and keep the cluster within the definition of a combo. See Shoma’s 3S+2T in his Worlds 2018 SP for example: that was still counted as a combo, so no +COMBO mark on his protocol, though he did receive negative GOE for the error.

In conjunction with the Zayak rule, there are a couple more implications:

If any jump in the combo has been performed earlier as a solo jump, it’s invalidated. For example if a guy pops his planned quad toe in to a triple, and then performs a quad Sal-triple toe for his combo, the triple toe is invalidated. 

As a sole exception to the Zayak rule, it is considered a legal move if a skater repeats jump within a combo. So 3T+3T and 3Lo+3Lo are accepted as valid combos in a SP.

One important thing to note is that, since the SP rules have very specific requirement for combos, any combo not meeting the requirement is automatically given a -5 in final GOE, regardless of how well the element by itself was performed. So the combos in cases 3, 4, 5, 6 above would all get the maximum GOE reduction. I’ve never seen case 1 and 2 in a real competition so I can’t say with 100% certainty, but my guess is if they happen, they’d also warrant a default -5 in GOE.

On another note, a frequently asked question I receive on this topic is: are skaters allowed to perform an Axel combination in a SP. The answer is: yes, provided that the Axel in combination is different from the Axel performed as the Axel-type jump. A lady, if she wants to, can perform a SP with a 3A, a 2A+3T, plus one non-Axel triple. A guy (regardless of whether or not his name starts with a Y and ends with a U) is allowed to do a SP layout of 3A, 2A+3T (or 2A solo, 3A+3T), plus, in the extreme case, a 4A as his solo jump - totally legal.

Free Skate

The free skate is, well, obviously, freer when it comes to combo/sequence regulations. A skater can have up to 3 combos and/or sequences in their FS. Do note that it is “up to 3”, meaning that it is not a strict requirement. A FS with no combination is completely legal.

Combos in the FS can include any jumps of any number of revolutions, so a 4-1 performed in a FS will be given the full combined BV of the quad and the single.

Out of the 3 combos/sequences, only 1 is allowed to contain 3 jumps. And, as per the new ISU definition of jump sequences, a 3-jump cluster has got to be a combo in order to be valid.

There is no rule against the repetition of jump combo, as long as such repetition does not violate the Zayak rule, so you’d see a few ladies performing two 3Lz+3T combos in one FS (Wakaba for example). 

Still, there are a few circumstances when a skater can get their combo jumps invalidated in a FS:

Case 1: The skater performs two 3-jump combos. The last jump in the latter combo is invalidated. 

Case 2: The skater repeats a quad or a triple jump without being able to put it in combination. This case actually falls more under the Zayak rule, but anyway, the treatment is that extra solo jump will be marked with a +REP, and receives only 70% of its BV. 

Case 3: The skater performs more than 3 combos/sequences. The extra combo/sequence will be marked with a +REP. Only the first jump in this combo/sequence will be given credit and all the subsequent jumps are invalidated. Moreover, since there is a +REP sign, the credit given is only 70% of the first jump’s BV. So, if Yuzu goes batshit crazy one day and performs, say, the Seimei v1.0 layout, but with a 3Lz+2T to end his program instead of the solo 3Lz, that combo would be marked down as 3Lz+2T*+REP and would earn him only 70% of the value of a 3Lz.

Case 4: The skater performs an invalid movement (the definition for these is the same as in the SP, discussed above) in between the jumps in the combo/sequence. The combo is marked as first jump+SEQ+second jump, and the jump performed after the invalid movement receives zero BV. For example, see this combo by Alexei Bychenko in his FS at Worlds 2018. 

You do want to remember this peculiar marking, because in a protocol, the placement of that +SEQ matters. A combo like Alexei did is marked as 3A+SEQ+2T*, which means that (1) he got no credit for the 2T and (2) his cluster was counted as a sequence, as a result of which he only received 80% of the 3A’s BV. 

A valid sequence, on the other hand, will have the +SEQ note at the end, so in Yuzu’s FS protocol from GP Helsinki, you’d see a 4T+3A+SEQ, which means it was a legal move, no part of the cluster was invalidated, and he got the full BV of a sequence for it, which was (9.50 for the 4T + 8.00 for the 3A) x 80% (sequence discount) x 1.1 (highlight distribution bonus) = 15.40 points.

One final thing to note (yes, FINAL, finally) is that, since combos in a FS are optional, unlike the +COMBO sign in the SP, both the +REP and the +SEQ+ signs in the FS do not mandate the maximum negative GOE. Those jumps/combos will be evaluated according to the standard GOE guidelines, with consideration for both positive and negative features.

And that was all I could think of for now. Re-reading it, I realized it was maybe probably very likely too much information but I’m unfortunately too lazy to trim it down. Hope this at least helps a little bit, if not, I apologize for yet another wall of text. Here’s a pwetty Yuzu combo to mentally compensate you:

[visionsofus]

Field Trips, Infinity Stones, and oh mY GOD IS THAT SPIDER-MAN? 

CH1

| CHAPTER 2 ~ pop quizzes and panic attacks | 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You have twenty minutes to complete the quiz, pleasedon't look at your neighbours answers otherwise I will have to fail you." Mr Harrington's curt voice cut through Peter's Wednesday morning as the teacher walked through the rows of desks, distributing quiz papers.

Peter blinked his eyes blearily. It was too early for a pop quiz.

The paper landed on his desk and Peter reluctantly picked up his pencil, writing his name at the top of the sheet of paper. In the corner, along the date line he wrote todays date and then had to quickly erase it when he realised, he'd put the wrong year.  5 years of his life… lost. He wasn't any older but that didn't mean he didn't feel different.

Peter tried to focus on the questions on the paper in front of him. He went through the motions of filling out the boxes on the test paper, doing working out here and there when he needed it.

"When you're done please come hand the test paper in, along with your permission slip which I hope you have all remembered to bring after my numerous reminders." Mr. Harrington droned and some of the students groaned in dismay. Clearly his reminders hadn't been enough for some of them.

Peter was the first to finish the quiz from what he could see but he waited a little bit longer. After checking over his answers once, he retrieved his permission slip from his bag and walked up towards Mr Harrington's desk.

"Took your time, Parker?" the teacher asked, not looking up from the papers he had before him.

"Ah yeah it was a pretty tricky quiz." Peter lied as he set the two documents on his teacher’s desk.

"Was it now." Mr. Harrington said, raising a sceptical eyebrow as he took the papers from Peter. "Good to see you'll be joining us on the trip, now go back to your seat."

"Yep." Peter said nodding and trudging back to his desk.

"I hope you all put a lot of effort into that quiz," Mr Harrington said once the last paper had been handed in, "because if any of you failed you won't go on the field trip this Friday."

This statement resulted in a chorus of outraged yells from the rest of the class and Mr Harrington put his hands up in surrender.

"Ok! Ok! You kids can never take jokes, can you?" Mr. Harrington pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "Speaking of the field trip, there are a few things that I need to run through before we leave."

He paused to pick up a piece of paper from his desk. Peter could see the Stark Industries logo in the corner from where he was sitting.

"We will be arriving at Stark Industries at 9:30. When we get there you will all be given visitor lanyards, I highly recommend you do not losethese lanyards because they are your key in. Lose your lanyard you get chucked out and you'll be waiting in the bus for the remainder of the trip." Mr. Harrington said punctuating each word threateningly.

"The tour will involve looking through the intern labs 3a and 4c, which primarily focus on research and preliminary trial experimentation." Harrington said flipping the piece of paper over. "Lunch will be provided kindly by Stark Industries and this is when you will have the opportunity to talk to some of the lower level interns and get a feel of what you may be doing should any of you be given the opportunity to actually intern there."

"Or we could just ask Parker," Flash said snidely, "Cause y'know he obviously has the internship already."

"Shut up Flash." Ned said in exasperation.

"Shut up Flash." Flash imitated, making a face. "We’ve all heard the same rumours, Parker was probably working in the cafeteria kitchens, or as a janitor, trying to pull together a little extra cash. Like Stark Industries would actually need the help of a high schooler."

"Yeah those rumours started with you Flash." Ned snapped and Peter shook his head at Ned.

"He's not worth it." Peter said quietly.

"Doesanyone mind if I get back on with what I was saying?" Mr. Harrington said, ignoring the short argument between the two students, it was a common occurrence in this class. "After lunch the remainder of the tour will be focused on looking at some of the history of Stark Industries and if you're lucky you may have the opportunity to test some of their old prototypes." A chorus of excited whispers broke out at this point.

Peter still had mixed emotions about the whole trip, but he couldn't help echoing a little of his classmates’ excitement. He'd always enjoyed visiting Stark Industries and getting to actually apply the knowledge that he learnt in and out of his Midtown classes. Hands on work was definitely more interesting. Plus, he got to help out Mr Stark here and there and that made him feel a bit better about keeping the insanely expensive suit that he'd been gifted.

At least he had been able to help Mr. Stark. Things were very different now and there was no telling what the field trip was going to be like now that Mr. Stark was gone.

Later that night Peter was sitting at his desk balancing a pen on top of his finger as he tried to think of the appropriate formula to use on the advanced chemistry question sitting in front of him. He wasn't particularly focused, and his eyes kept flicking out the window to the clear night sky. At times like these he couldn't help wishing that he was swinging from building to building instead of stuck at his uncomfortable desk.

But he wasn't ready. Peter hadn't put the suit back on since that fateful day almost one month ago, or was it technically five years? Whatever, this whole time thing was really starting to boggle his mind.

When Peter finally turned his attention back to the task before him, he was distracted yet again by a red flashing light from the corner of his eye. It was coming from the wardrobe which had been left slightly open from when he had gotten changed after school.

Hesitantly, Peter put his pen down and got out of his chair. The flashing was getting more insistent as he made his way over to the closet and opened it slowly.

Peering out from between his other clothes, the iron spider suit was flashing distinctively, a little red light appearing each second from in-between the blue plated metal.  

"What the…" Peter said taking the suit off of the hangers, probably not the best way to store a multimillion-dollar suit now that he thought about it. Peter turned the lightweight metal suit over in his hands. Not pausing to think about the possible implications of his actions Peter jabbed the flashing red light hoping to make it stop.

The light stopped immediately, and the suit seemed to let out a sigh, if machinery could even make such noises. Suddenly, the suit was crawling up his hands, fitting to his body plate by plate. Within seconds it had covered his arms and chest and before Peter knew it, the suit had reached his toes.

"Whatttt." Peter said glancing down at his hands. He'd probably activated it by accident, but that didn't explain the whole flashing light thing.

"Hello Peter." Karen said in his ear.

"Hi Karen… long time no see." Peter said quietly, hoping that Aunt May hadn't heard anything.

"It has been a long time." Karen said. "Where have you been?"

"Sorry… where you lonely?"

"My brain is synthetic, Peter, as of yet I cannot experience loneliness." Karen said matter-of-factly, "but it was different without you here."

"Oh." Peter said quietly, he rolled his shoulders, feeling the skin-tight suit shift to fit his movements. "So how come my suit was flashing?"

"For me to keep everything in top condition, the suit needs to be unpacked at least once every 30 days." Karen informed him. "As it is nearing 30 days since you last used it, I decided to get your attention."

"Huh." Peter said nodding and looking at his hands and the metal plating that was covering them. "Well seeing as I'm in the suit, and I really don't feel like studying, shall we take it out on the town?"

"It is currently 77 degrees outside, there is limited wind and the sky is clear with zero chance of rain." Karen informed him as Peter walked over to his bedroom window and slid it up as quietly as he could. "I believe the conditions are perfect to take the suit… 'out on the town' as you put it."

"Here we go." Peter said, failing to keep the excitement from his voice as he stepped up onto his windowsill and promptly threw himself out into the night air. For a moment he was falling but then, with a press of a button, a web was pulling him up towards the sky again. For a moment the euphoria of it all was the greatest thing in the world.

And then everything flooded back to Peter like it had been yesterday.

His body had ached all over. He was bleeding from somewhere on his head, but he wasn't sure where.  He was still feeling nauseous from clutching the gauntlet, the power that emanated from it made him dizzy and sick to his stomach. The rest of the battle had been flashes of pain and exhilaration and more pain. And when it finally came to a stop…

Peter's throat was burning, and his chest was heaving so rapidly he didn't have the control to shoot another web before he was falling towards the ground.

"Peter!" Karen said alarmed, or as alarmed as an AI robot could sound. But Peter didn't register any of it.

Some back up protocol of the suit must have been activated and blasters like Mr. Starks appeared, slowly lowering Peter to the ground.

Once his feet had touched the earth, Peter's knees gave way and he sunk to the ground. He pushed himself to the edge of the path. Luckily it was quiet in this particular area of the neighbourhood.

"Peter your vitals are displaying signs of distress." Karen said, seemingly concerned. "May I walk you through a breathing exercise?"

Peter could barely hear anything past the thundering in his ears. He kept a hand clutched over his mouth as the suit receded down to his neck, allowing him to breath better. Unfortunately, he was now exposed to the sounds and sights of the street around him. A motorbike roared down the road two blocks away, but it felt as though the engine were right next to him and Peter groaned and clutched his hands about his ears. A cars headlights made his eyes burn so he closed them and put his head between his knees. He wanted it to stop… everything to just stop. He felt like his heart was about to fail, it was beating so wildly, his throat so tight that breathing was becoming more and more difficult.

"Karen." He managed to force out weakly in-between desperate breaths. "What's happening?"

"I believe this is a panic attack, if you allow me, I can walk you through a breathing exercise."

"Please." Peter whispered past the lump in his throat.

He tried his best to listen to what Karen was saying and ignore the onslaught of memories that had bombarded his brain. He sat like that on the ground, outside a nameless building for what felt like hours, trying to get his breathing and heart under control again.

"-hold your breath for eight seconds." Karen instructed him calmly and Peter did so. It was starting to help and slowly he felt like he could breathe properly again.

When he finally felt steady enough to stand, Peter pushed himself to his feet. He was still shaking a little as he held his hands out in front of him. He'd experience panic before, but nothing on that kind of scale.

"Shall we go home?" Karen asked softly.

"Yes." Peter said, and the head of the suit covered his face again as he slowly but surely walked the block back to his house. He passed one or two people along the way and they stared, but no one said a word. When Peter finally made it to his front door, he closed his eyes and reached for the wall, feeling his finger tips stick immediately. Keeping his eyes closed he climbed up as quickly as he could without falling or being consumed by another panic attack and slipped in his window.

"Sorry Karen, I don't think I’m ready yet." Peter said, exhaustion hitting him as soon as he was inside once again.

"I understand." Karen said. "I have sent a copy of the information I received from your body to your computer if you wish to have a look. There will also be several websites for dealing with panic attacks should you wish to read them."

"Thanks, Karen." Peter said quietly and slowly the suit began to retract across his body until it was the small backpack like object it had been half an hour ago. Peter returned it to his closet, this time shutting the door firmly.

He definitely wasn't ready to get back into the whole Spider-Man gig.

The scary part was, Peter wasn't sure if he ever would be.

[tarralin]

3. Why Not?

This is the continuation of Diabolicus. You can find my other works on the Master List linked in my blog's description.

Thank you @ikemenfics for beta reading!

Enjoying my work? Buy me a coffe at http://ko-fi.com/tarralin

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

~*~

...

The indulgence of diversion was simply at an end.

...

At least, that was what Kennyo tried to tell himself each night he stood at the forest’s edge until the last candle had been snuffed out. He hadn’t entered her dreams in three nights. It was for the best. His place was in Hell where he needed to return and await his next summoning… and still he found himself watching over her daily actions.

Still he found himself peering through her dreamsphere each night, giving into curiosity.

This night, she sauntered along a stone balcony he knew only existed on castles of old lands and nowhere near these colonies of a young world. The golden gown that clothed her was the fashion of an ended age with the square neckline of a constraining bodice and full skirt swaying across the polished marble floor. A looping filigree traced the long, draping sleeves until the crimson trimming ended its pathway. Her silver locks were kept in their place by pearl encrusted combs pinned to the base of her head and then the luminous curls were allowed to dance freely in the moonlight.

Just as before, her gaze snapped to his without warning as a smile bloomed. “Now Puzzle Maker, I remember giving you permission to enter without invitation.”

“That you did,” Kennyo grinned as he joined her at the balcony. “As unnecessary as it was.”

Her smile faltered slightly at that. “Don't most immortals need permission to enter a realm or residence?”

“They do but, in the case of the Dreamscape—" Kennyo raised his left hand for her inspection, “—only a hair is needed to unlock the portal.”

A bark of laughter slipped from her throat once her eyes found the single silver strand wrapped around his fingers. “So, you've obviously had a plan from the beginning. You sought me out for possible connections to My Brother Once Was… but why do I still feel your presence like a second shadow? Why did you stay?”

Why indeed? Kennyo wasn't sure, even now, only knew that he felt a tug back to the mortal realm each time he stood at the precipice of Hell’s entrance. A pull that only ended in her presence like a fisherman's tether that had caught its prize. Not that he could tell her that, settling instead for indifference. “Why not?”

Her lavender eyes narrowed at the blasé response as if she could see through to the truth but kept her thoughts to herself. A sudden swell of music echoed through the stone walls of the palace to his ears, bringing back her usual radiant smile as she pushed from the balcony. A quick flourish of her hand had a pair of doors forming in the wall before her where previously only solid stone stood. Another flick of the wrist commanded them to swing, opening to a massive ballroom that hosted a moderate crowd of lavishly dressed dancers.

“What is this?” Kennyo questioned skeptically.

With a grin, she spun full circle as if to encompass the entire room until she met his gaze again. “My own means.”

He grinned at the repeated phrase from All Hallows Eve as he circled her in the same form of the dance portrayed by the dreamfolk before offering his hand to her in invitation. “So you often dream of parties that occurred before your time?”

She accepted his hand happily. “My time? Ha! You don’t know much of my kind, do you?”

“Of nephilim? Apologies, but no, I don't. The last Half-Born I know of was the giant Goliath.”

“Goliath? Truly? I didn’t realize we were so…”

“Rare?” He provided when her words trailed off.

“Yes… No wonder Heaven is so insistent on my conversion!” She shook her head, clearing her eyes of the evident disbelief before continuing with her original thought. “My twin and I were born in the spring of fourteen seventy-two but it wasn't until our fortieth winter approached that we realized we hadn't aged like those around us.”

Extended longevity, one more bit to file away on the knowledge of nephilim. “So these fashions and parties were of your time.”

“Yes,” her steps slowed a moment while she glanced around the ballroom, as if seeing memories of old play across her vision. “My brother’s scholarly pursuits lead us to London and in the presence of Henry VIII for a brief time. I was allowed to attend a party similar to this once.”

“Enjoyed it so much you now repeat it in sleep?”

The music ended and they parted per etiquette. “You catch on quick, Puzzle Maker.”

“I’d like to think so,” he raised his hand to her again as a new, lively tune arose.

Just as before, Kennyo picked up the rhythm of the new dance easily and was soon leading her through the steps as designed. She seemed to truly float in his arms with the absence of physical touch, the rustling of her dress along the floor as the only indicator she was there at all.

“Tell me, Lady Nephilim,” he started as he spun her in time with the music, pulling her back flush against his chest. “Why do you call me ‘Puzzle Maker'?”

“You've not offered another title for me to address you by, nor have you told me what you are. Our names have power, even on the Dreamscape, which is why I haven't asked you of yours or corrected that which you call me. Actually, I've grown quite fond of your gifted moniker.” She glanced over her shoulder to ensure he saw her grin. “Are you not a puzzle maker? Have to say, you had me fooled by all those games you sent me.”

“ ‘Games’?!” He scoffed at her flippant attitude, pivoting himself to face her again. “Did any of those ‘games’ challenge you? Frighten you?”

Her smile turned thoughtful for a moment. “The maze.”

“The maze? How so?”

“Come, I'll show you.” She turned on her heel and pulled him by the hand through the crowd. A curtain hung along the ballroom wall that she threw aside to reveal another set of double doors. They flew open without so much as a tap of her fingers, leading immediately outside where an expansive garden laid before them. A hedge work maze stretched as far as the eye could see, the wall of green standing twice Kennyo’s height and eliminating all visual capabilities aside from staring straight up into the sky.

“Now, let me think…”

His gaze settled back to her. The new, predatorial drawl to her words unsettled his resolve as the doors clamped shut behind them with a boom. A wolfish smirk blossomed upon her features when she released his hand and disappeared through a split in the trees. He sprinted through the same split, instincts screaming that he not lose sight of her. Truly, dear Lady, a chase?

“Something's missing...” her voice pranced across his ears as he turned the first corner. She was nowhere to be seen despite the closeness of her teasing statement. “Oh, now I remember!”

An ear shattering howl sounded from the entrance. If he possessed his physical senses, Kennyo was sure his lungs would have frozen. There was only one beast that could relinquish such a soul searing wail. He dove to the left wing and pounded down the gravel path, cursing himself for being so clever as to include Hell’s Hound in the crafted nightmares.

“And let’s not forget…”

A gale of wind whistled through the pathway with enough force to tumble him to his knees, leaves biting across his nose with the realization he could feel the sting. This was far beyond the common lucidity that even some mortals could master. Just what kind of sorcery did the Lady Nephilim practice to accomplish this feat?

The fiendish snarls of Hell’s cruelest creature grew close to his heels. If he could feel the leaves and wind, what damage could the hound’s fangs inflict?

The path brought him to another three way choice. He took the right wing this time, hoping to throw off the hound but still growls of the hunt followed his steps until another choice lay before him. Straight ahead it is.

Again? Right.

This is ridiculous! Left.

Kennyo happened upon another break in the tree line with the same choice trio. “What ‘game’ are you playing here?!” He shouted to the sky, knowing she’d hear him.

Her words were like warm honey over his conscious regardless of her role as the tormentor. “The very same you played at my expense. This one's not so fun, is it?” The chilled blast of wind carried the roar of the pursuing predator.

A sigh from the Nephilim. “Neither left, right, nor forward have proven successful, and you certainly can't go whence you came. Come now, think on it!”

The gale’s howling was rivaled only by that of the hound encroaching upon him. He had to choose again and he had to choose now but no matter which path he chose, it would continuously loop back to this same trident. How did she solve it when she was closed in on all sides—

No. Not all sides.

At the same moment the snarling beast would have captured him, Kennyo lunged onto a nearby branch of the hedge work and climbed. He focused solely on his footwork as he swung from one bough to the next, lest he fall to the jaws of his own handiwork. Once he scaled to the top, the ferocity of both wind and monstrosity ceased and he could see a clear passage to the epicenter.

She lounged across a stone bench waiting for him. She had changed from the golden gown of a queen to a shimmering cloth that matched her eyes, similar to that he often saw draped upon the women of Heaven when they came to dissuade contract seeking mortals. The robe flattered her greatly instead of appearing as if it had been wrapped around in haste and without care. She could have stepped into a painted rendition of the ancient isles and taken their wardrobe for herself.

Kennyo shook his head to clear away the distraction, focusing on her gaze. “You climbed the wall.”

“I climbed the wall,” she agreed, grinning again. “Though it took me nearly all night to figure it out, so I applaud your speed. Ironic that it took you seven turns.”

“Six,” he corrected only to witness her shaking her head.

“The climb counts as a turn, but enough of that.” She stood and crossed the distance to properly meet his gaze. “Why did you stay?”

“Pardon?” Why that question, of all things?

“My hair gives free reign to enter this realm and whatever plans you initially had for Nari dissolved once you learned I would be of no use to you. Yet, you continued to watch over me. Even now, here in the maze, you could have left at anytime. Yet, you worked through it. So I ask again… Why. Do. You. Stay?”

Persistent little thing aren't you? “I… wish I could tell you, dear Lady, but the truth is I don't know the answer.”

There was a glimmer in her eyes at the honesty. “I have a thought on that myself, but I think it best if you realize on your own.”

Suddenly, he wished he had told her of the frustrations of the last weeks, the sensation of being drawn back to her side, everything. In the centuries he walked as a demon, he possessed neither emotions nor indecisiveness. Only a hollowness that was continuously questioned by the mortals as he could never empathize with the tearful pleas or their need for the attentions of another. Even before selling his soul as a human, he’d been free of earthly entanglements and desires.

Now, he understood. Need. Desire. Longing. Did a term even exist to describe to the endless flurry of emotions swirling within him? As he willingly stood here at her mercy, he knew he would beg without qualms for an end to the storm just as much as he wished it to continue for eternity. How could he be affected so greatly? How was this possible?

There was only one impossible answer.

“You really do catch on quick,” she whispered as she lightly trailed a hand up his arm. “It appears you figured it out already.”

Kennyo framed her face in his palms, suddenly lamenting the lack of a physical presence. “Why?”

This time, the brilliance of her smile as she mimicked his motions of cupping his face nearly blinded him. “Why not?”

~*~

If you're curious, see the dress that I was inspired by and envisioned here:

~*~

[tarithenurse]

I see you - Ch.6

Pairing: Heimdal x fem!reader (just adding it as a reminder that it’s what I promised)Warnings: maybe language, mix of fluff and angst and piiiining <3A/N: as usual lately, this hasn’t been proof read because I’m feeling crappy, but writing makes me happy so here you go! Feedback is always welcomed!

Ch. 6 – Eye

Growing up and working at the bookshop, the ethereal world of myths and fairy tales had fascinated you. The Brothers Grimm, H.C. Andersen, and of course Nordic Mythology were some of your means to escape your harsh reality before finding the support to get away for real.

As such, you know the stories that have been written down after centuries of oral tradition, leaving a very wide margin for error and contemporary interpretation of the people penning the legends. It doesn’t match 100%, that much is clear. Even so, there’s no doubt that you’re looking at Odin, king of the Aesir, followed by his entourage or guards and a kind and slightly exasperated-looking woman. Frigga? She catches your gaze and smiles reassuringly from behind her husband.

“Heimdal,” the All-Father announces brashly, “if you do not return her at once, then you’ll be held in contempt and someone else will accomplish the task and your title as Keeper of Bifrost until I’ve decided what to do about you and your treasonous act.”

I’ll have to move! The thought alone makes your bones feel as if they are being stabbed with icy spikes. Instinctually, you look to Heimdal as the panic begin to seethe in your chest, and your dread is strengthened when you see his eyes widened, his chest expanding with a deep inhale. He doesn’t get to talk though.

“My king and husband,” Frigga softly interjects, “bear in mind that returning her to Midgard will threaten her life, which in turn will leave an unfortunate impression with her people who are still finding their place in a world much bigger than they thought.” She’s come around to stand before the old, bearded regent and takes his hands. “Thor has taken it upon himself to protect that realm, aiding them and showing them a way that not only is a righteous path but also one that in the future could make them our allies. Would we not risk undoing his work and sending the Midgardians down a darker path if we show no mercy?”

The bumping of a confused bumblebee trying to get in through the window glass is the only immediate sound. For a king who’s supposed to be wise, he still looks as silly as anyone else when they’ve unexpectedly been hit with hard logic. Opening and closing his mouth a couple of times, Odin scowls at his wife before shooting cold glances at both Heimdal and yourself.

“I do believe, my dear, that you’re twisting words of reason to fit your whims.” The All-Father huffs in defeat. “Fortunately, Thor has returned not long ago, and I shall confer with him on how we can go about this without risking a future alliance with the Midgardians.” Turning on his heel, he’s almost out of the room when he pauses and looks back. “Do not assume, any of you, that there won’t be consequences.”

Three people are in the room when the door closes, making you feel increasingly nervous as you know you are the odd one out. They’re in trouble because of me. After a wordless offer and denial, Heimdal reclaims his seat while the queen takes place on the edge of the bed. Although you should know not to, the reaction to move to create more space for her overpowers your brain until the pain rolls through your body again, making you wince. Giving up, you fight back the nausea. If I went home…I can’t afford the care I need! The thoughts are getting harder to hold on to as the agony holds you in its grip, and you’re only vaguely aware of the soft hand that takes yours.

“{Y/N[, do not worry,” Frigga’s voice comes from far away like an angel’s, “we will not send you away yet. Just rest, heal, my child.”

…

The eyelashes flutter momentarily before coming to a rest together with the no longer rapid breathing. To Heimdal, the seiðr queen Frigga possesses is a blessing from the All-Fathers as he sees the frail patient fall asleep free of pain. His own abilities are different in nature, more limited too, leaving him with the basic knowledge of remedies to alleviate any suffering like the one that turned the Midgardian’s face ashen and called forth tiny beads of cold sweat.

“Thank you, m’lady.”

Smiling as if she’s in on a jest, Frigga nods to Heimdal. “It’s my genuine pleasure. She will sleep for a while again, but when she wakes, she’ll likely be hungry.”

“Yes.”

Heimdal’s golden eyes are fixed on the patient. For once he’s lost to the rest of the world which he normally spends every waking second observing for anything of interest to Asgard. How peculiar, the Keeper muses, something so…seemingly simple can has such importance. The idea warms him.

…

Next time you wake, the sun has set and it’s the light of the moons and stars that…waaait a second! Looking through the window again, you make sure that you see clearly, but it’s true: there are two moons. One is much smaller than the other, though, but it’s their light that illuminates the room. Turning your head carefully, you feel some of the pain has subsided (whether it’s due to painkillers, you don’t know). The queen is gone, but Heimdal’s sitting the same place as before, the only difference being that his head’s leaning against the backrest of the chair as the only support to keep it from lolling to the side or onto his chest. A soft snore can be heard now and then from the man, who’s slid down in the seat with his legs stretched before him, crossing at the ankles, and his fingers interlocked over his stomach.

When he’s asleep, you find that he’s downright beautiful to the point where you lose track of time until the cold light from outside leaves his face. Then you feel your body aching, your throat screaming for liquid. Holding your breath in an effort to counter the hurt, you try to wiggle to a more comfortable position, but it’s not enough to stop tears from forming and tracing down the cheeks before you finally give up, getting stuck mid-movement.

“Allow me to assist, lady [Y/N].”

The voice is deep and soothing, making it all too easy to surrender and allow him to slide his strong arms under your body. Even if he’s gentle it still hurts terribly but feeling Heimdal’s strength and warmth makes it worth it. Cinnamon and warm sand. Inhaling as deep as possible, you let his scent wash over you and bring with it a sense of security you were craving since your ran back toward the attack home in New York. Giving in, your head rests against his shoulder.

…

Heimdal’s trying to support the Midgardian as much as possible without causing too much pain, a task that seems impossible when he shifts the frail body further up in the bed before freeing the arm that was under her knees. Awkwardly he reaches to fluff the pillows, bringing him so near that he can smell the residue of stone-dust that lingers in her still dirty hair and the smell of fresh linen and citrus fruits. The moment [Y/N] tilts her head to lean against him, the Keeper of Bifrost feels his heart skip a beat and he has to force himself to lay the woman back.

“Thank you, Heimdal.” Her voice is soft and her [Y/E/C] eyes battle the moonlight in beauty.

Still too close for modesty, the Asgardian smiles at her. “It’s my honour.”

“Why?”

“I…it was…” haltingly, Heimdal tries to explain without making her feel uncomfortable by telling the entire truth, “the opportunity arose where it might be possible to prevent you from –“ Turning his back to the bed, the man busies himself with filling a jug with fresh water. “Please. Let us not talk about such things just yet, instead let me help you with what you need. I can arrange for some food for you?”

When [Y/N] doesn’t answer, the Watcher turns around reluctantly to meet her scrutinizing gaze. It’s the same attention to detail that captivated him the first time he laid eyes on her. Pupils are narrowing and dilating to study the slightest twitch in Heimdal’s facial expression; the head’s cocked to better hear his breathing, the swallowing of saliva, or even any change in his heartbeat; the Asgardian even sees the delicate flaring of nostrils as she subconsciously breathes in the pheromones that reveal more than he wishes.

“Some food might be good,” she relinquishes, “but on one condition…”

“Tell me.”

The first real smile since the day of Loki’s attack brightens her face. “You tell me about this place and yourself, because what I’ve read doesn’t seem to be entirely true.”

“Of course, my lady.”

[banshee-cheekbones]

If you’re taking prompts could you do Cordia & picking out a puppy at the pound

hi nonny! here’s some pre-relationship Cordia that’s canon-divergent after 3A, with human Lydia, emotional hurt/comfort, mild angst and general pack feelings.

3.2k. on ao3 here.

like a ship lost at sea.

Once senior year comes to an end, the pack goes their separate ways.

Cora doesn’t think that any of them actively set out to leave Beacon Hills for the sole reason of getting away from each other but, pack bonds or not, they all have their futures to consider, and those futures aren’t concentrated in the same spot. Stiles, Lydia and Kira (with Malia in tow) all move cross-country to Virginia, Massachusetts, and New York respectively. Scott remains in California, Allison and Isaac cross the ocean to France, and Derek pulls up stakes and joins Braeden on the road.

Cora stays behind.

She only remains in Beacon Hills for a few weeks after the others disperse. Sure, there are still people that she knows in town; Scott’s mom is constantly in contact with her, urging her to come by whenever she wants to, and Peter is always skulking around somewhere, but they aren’t enough. They aren’t pack; being around them doesn’t make the expansive walls of Derek’s loft feel any more like home, doesn’t do anything to quell the itch underneath her skin, an itch that becomes almost unbearable when the full moon comes around.

So once the moon is new again, she leaves.

She goes back to South America, meanders through Brazil and Peru, spends a few weeks with her old pack, hoping all the while that it’ll do something to fill what seems to be the increasingly large void in her chest. For a few days, she thinks that it might even work, that she’s back where she belongs.

But then the full moon returns to the sky, and the rest of the pack stares at it with joy and reverence, and all Cora can do is shudder in her misshapen skin and wonder if she’ll ever feel whole again.

When there’s no longer a hint of moon in the sky, she returns stateside and stays a few days in the echoing loft, works out until it feels like her heart might explode from her chest, runs through the woods until her feet are a mess of dirt and crushed leaves and dried blood.

Mainly, she tries to figure out where to go next.

She’s trying to narrow it down between New York and Philadelphia, where Derek says he’ll be for at least another week, when she gets a call from Lydia. It’s not entirely a surprise; they’ve been in fairly consistent contact since Lydia left for Massachusetts, text each other at least once a day.

The subject of the call is what throws Cora off-guard.

“My roommate is moving out at the end of the week,” Lydia says as soon as Cora picks up. “Do you still want to get out of Beacon Hills?”

If Cora were to take some time to think it over, she’s fairly certain that she could come up with a dozen reasons why saying yes is a horrible idea. But, when it comes down to it, it’s probably a better idea than crashing on Kira and Malia’s couch or tagging along as Derek and Braeden’s third wheel for a few weeks.

So she doesn’t give herself any time to talk herself out of it. She simply says yes and starts to pack as soon as the call ends.

It takes just a little under an hour. All her most valuable possessions, the things she holds most dear in all the world, fit into a single worn duffle bag.

Frankly, she’s surprised that she manages to fill it.

It’s raining when her flight lands.

Lydia is waiting for her just inside the entrance to the arrivals area, raincoat belted tightly around her waist, hair hanging in a tight braid over one shoulder, looking so effortlessly put together and beautiful, so at ease in her surroundings, that Cora has to swallow around a sour lump of jealousy.

“It’s nice to see you,” she says as Cora walks up. There’s a moment of hesitation, a moment where her shoulders go stiff, before she shakes her head minutely and pulls Cora into a tight hug. It’s been so long since Cora’s touched someone else that her first instinct is to shrink away, but then the smell of Lydia’s shampoo reaches her nostrils, and the unique rhythm of her heartbeat, so utterly familiar, fully settles in Cora’s ears. For the first time in months, she feels like she’s standing on solid ground again, and she melts into Lydia’s touch.

“Yeah,” she mutters, closing her eyes for just a moment, focusing on the steady thump of Lydia’s heart in order to block out the cacophony filling the rest of the vast space. “You too.”

Lydia’s apartment is smaller than she expected, but she’s actually relieved; after spending so much time alone in the cold, echoing loft, she’s had enough of expansive spaces. The windows let in copious amounts of sunlight, and there’s a balcony large enough for her to work out on when the weather is nice. Her own room is already mostly furnished; Lydia’s old roommate left behind their bed and desk, so all Cora has to order is a new dresser (which remains half-empty, even after she buys some new clothes). At night, it’s surprisingly quiet; the street isn’t heavily trafficked, and they’re far away from the bars, so she’s able to sleep with the window open, enjoy the breeze, without having to use earplugs.

Even though the official beginning of the semester is still some weeks off, Lydia has already managed to score a job as a research assistant for a professor in the mathematics department and, once Cora has unpacked her meager belongings and taken some time to get used to the neighborhood, she uses a connection that she’s somehow managed to cultivate in only a few months to land Cora a job as a barista at a coffee shop on campus.

Despite it being the summer, the shop is still busy enough that most of her day flies by in the blink of an eye, and she falls into the routine quickly, uses her enhanced senses to her advantage. It’s not glamorous, the uniform is absolutely hideous, and it’s definitely not something that she wants to make a career out of, but seeing as she isn’t sure what she does want to make a career out of, she’s fine with it being a stopover. At the very least, it gives her a reason to get out of bed in the morning, gives her something to focus on that isn’t the pull of the moon.

Any reservations she may have had about being Lydia’s roommate dissolve fairly quickly. Lydia spends a good portion of any given day on campus and when she is home, she’s quiet, is usually curled up on the couch with a book or watching something on her laptop. She doesn’t push Cora to talk, but she listens when Cora does want to talk. She’s freer with her physical affections than Cora remembers; she doesn’t hesitate to slide closer when Cora sits down beside her on the couch, doesn’t shy away from occasionally brushing Cora’s hair away from her face, but she’s never pushy about it, never lingers for too long.

One night, as Cora lays in bed, staring out the window at where the glow from the streetlights has turned the sky a deep shade of orange and listening to Lydia quietly hum to herself in her bedroom down the hall, she thinks to herself that maybe this is where she’s meant to be.

Maybe this is what she’s been searching for since senior year came to an end.

But then the moon starts to edge towards its peak again and her skin grows too tight and her chest aches for something she can’t put a name to but is too damnably familiar with.

She calls in sick on the day of the full moon and stays in her bedroom, buried under her blanket despite the heat, palms going through a continual cycle of tearing open and healing as her claws dig in.

She wants to call Derek. She wants to ask if he’s experiencing the same thing, if he feels like he’s going to implode every single time the moon reaches its peak, but the idea of moving to find her phone, of poking her head out into the sunlight, just makes her head ache, and she remains motionless.

By the time Lydia returns from campus, it’s nearly evening, and Cora still hasn’t moved. The sound of the front door closing behind her echoes through Cora’s head, as does each of her footsteps. When she pauses outside Cora’s door, Cora can hear the wood rasping when Lydia lays her palm on it.

Idly, she wonders how painful gouging out her own eardrums would be.

“Cora?” Thankfully, Lydia’s voice is softer than usual, barely louder than a whisper. “Are you okay?”

Cora could lie to her. Lydia wouldn’t be able to hear her heartbeat shift and tick, wouldn’t be able to smell her scent change ever so subtly. But frankly, Cora doesn’t know if she could keep her voice from shaking long enough to lie.

So, instead, voice raspy with thirst, she answers, “No.”

Lydia’s scent changes at that, sours a little with something that isn’t quite sadness but is in the pain spectrum nonetheless. After a moment where the only sounds from her are her heartbeat and breath, she slowly pushes the door open, and Cora shifts the blanket just enough so that she can look out with one eye.

“I have an idea,” Lydia says, glancing around the room, at the closed window and the blanket bunched over Cora’s body. “But we’d need to go for a short drive. Is that something you could manage?”

The honest answer is that Cora isn’t sure. But she wants to try, even if only to make the sour smell of Lydia’s pain dissipate.

“Can we come back?” she asks, sticking her whole head out from underneath the blanket and blinking at the overly bright room. “If it’s too much.” Lydia nods.

“Of course.”

That’s the assurance Cora needs to fully kick the blanket away from her body. Sitting up and tossing her legs over the edge of the mattress, she runs one hand through her hair and is only mildly alarmed when her fingers snag on a considerably large knot.

“Alright. Just let me brush my teeth first.”

The world seems to be painted in swathes of screaming florescent color, and the sound of everything is turned up too high, and the moon feels like it has its claws firmly hooked into her back, but Cora still manages to make it out of the apartment and into the passenger seat of Lydia’s car.

Once she’s seated, she sinks back into the leather and closes her eyes, grateful for the tinted windows. Even though it’s warm enough outside to have the windows down, Lydia leaves them up and turns the air conditioning on the lowest setting. After a moment of adjustment, the low whoosh of air actually becomes almost soothing. It gives Cora something else to focus on, along with the sound of Lydia’s heart, something to block out what feels like every sound in the universe. Lydia doesn’t tell her where they’re going, and Cora doesn’t ask.

She figures it out when they’re still nearly a block away.

The barking of at least a dozen dogs assaults her ears, and she digs her hands into her knees, claws tearing through her jeans and pressing into her skin. Lydia immediately slows down and glances over, fingers tight around the steering wheel.

“Is it too much? We can turn around.”

On some level, it is; there’s just so much noise, so many things clamoring for her attention that it makes Cora’s head throb. But she’s made it this far; she doesn’t want to give up yet, especially when they’re so close. She wants to know the full details of Lydia’s plan, at the very least.

“No,” she winces, forcing herself to take a deep breath. “Keep going.”

They pull into the parking lot of the animal shelter a minute later. They’re the only vehicle in the lot, and once Lydia slides out, she comes around to Cora’s side and holds out her hand.

Her slim fingers would never heal properly if Cora squeezed them too hard. They’d stay jagged and crooked for the rest of her life.

“What if I hurt you?” she asks, bumping the door closed with her hip. Lydia just stares at her.

“Homicidal lizard of an ex-boyfriend never hurt me,” she says, hand still extended. “And I don’t think you will either.” It’s such an absurd thing to say, so human, but she’s unwavering; there isn’t a single ounce of fear coming off of her.

“I like to think that I’m more trustworthy than Jackson ever was,” Cora replies, trying her best to crack a joke as she slots their fingers together and lets Lydia walk her towards the entrance.

“You are. And more honest,” Lydia says. Just for a moment, her scent spikes with pain again, and Cora feels the abrupt need to pull Lydia close and hug her until it goes away. But the scent disappears almost as soon as it arrives, and when they walk inside, Cora immediately returns to focusing on keeping herself under control. Barking and meowing reverberates off every wall, and the lights are too glaring, and the combined scents of animal waste and industrial strength cleaning supplies gets caught in her throat, forcing her to swallow around a retch.

She’s vaguely aware that Lydia is talking to the woman at the front desk, but she doesn’t catch most of the conversation, doesn’t really even know what’s going on until the woman unlocks the waist-height gate beside the counter and ushers them back.

Once they leave the front area, the lights thankfully dim a little, and Cora’s able to open her eyes to more than a squint. They walk down a long hallway dotted with doors and stop in front of the one at the very end. There’s a small window inset in the door, and Cora peers through the glass into a room with a concrete floor and walls. A large dog bed fills one corner and curled up on it staring at the window is a dog only slightly smaller than a coyote with black and white fur. When Cora leans in closer to the window, the dog’s ears perk up, and its short tail starts to thump against the bed.

“This is Star,” the woman says, unlocking the door and pushing it open. “She was surrendered a few weeks ago. She’s very sweet.”

“What kind of dog is she?” Lydia asks, but Cora doesn’t pay attention to the answer that Lydia receives. Instead, she steps into the room and carefully sinks down onto her haunches and slowly extends one hand, ready to pull back if need be; dogs tend to be more wary around alphas, but some of them are just as frightened of betas, and healing factor or no, she doesn’t really relish the thought of having fangs sunk deep into her wrist.

But that doesn’t happen. Star wriggles forward, black nose cautiously sniffing at the air in front of Cora’s fingertips. After only a few moments, she gets to her feet, trots across the space between them and starts excitedly licking at Cora’s palm. When Cora fully sits down on the cold ground, Star clambers up into her lap and nudges at her chin with her snout, smacks her tail against Cora’s knee.

“I think she’s picked you,” the woman laughs quietly. Cora nods and glances up at Lydia, who is smiling but looks unsure of herself, is too stiff to be fully relaxed.

“Good,” Cora responds, scratching underneath Star’s chin, and Lydia’s smile comes fully alive. “Because I’m picking her.”

For an extra fee, the shelter is able to provide them with everything they need: a cage, food, a leash and some starter toys. While Lydia is occupied with filling out the required paperwork, Cora pays for everything and then ignores Lydia’s protests that they should have at least split the cost halfway.

It takes a few moments to fit everything into the back of Lydia’s car, and there isn’t enough room to fully unfold the cage, so Star rides back in Cora’s lap. Her head whips around as she looks at all the passing scenery, but she doesn’t claw at the dashboard or the window, and she seems perfectly content to allow Cora to press her face between her shoulder blades and breathe in deeply.

The different rhythms of the heartbeats in the car, of her own and Lydia’s and Star’s, should be too discordant, should only make her head throb more, but instead, she feels safe. Feels like she’s back in Beacon Hills with the rest of the pack, feels like she knows her place again.

It takes them two trips to bring everything upstairs. Once the door is closed behind them, Cora unclips Star’s leash. She expects Star to run around and explore, but instead, she simply follows Cora around, watches her set up her bed in the living room, follows her to the bathroom and waits outside until Cora comes back out. She only wanders away once they’ve set up her food and water in a corner of the kitchen.

After they’ve put everything away, Lydia sits down on one end of the couch and turns the television on, mutes it and puts something on Netflix with subtitles, and Cora doesn’t even think about retreating back to her bedroom. Instead, after a moment of hesitation, she sits beside Lydia on the couch, not close enough to touch but close enough to feel Lydia’s body heat.

After only a moment, Lydia reaches out and gently sets one hand on Cora’s shoulder.

“You can come here,” she says by way of explanation, glancing from Cora’s face to her own lap and back again. “If you want to.” There’s a hitch in her heartbeat that Cora isn’t familiar with, but it’s one that she knows as nervousness from hearing it in other people.

“Okay,” she says quietly and, before she can talk herself out of it, she pulls her legs up onto the couch and lies down with her head in Lydia’s lap, shifts around until she’s comfortable. When Lydia drops one hand to her hair and starts carefully untangling the knots, Cora lets her eyes fall shut.

“I wish I could take your pain away,” Lydia murmurs, fingertips smoothing along Cora’s hairline, like she’s trying to do it anyway, like she’s imagining black veins of pain climbing up her hand. Before Cora can answer, the sound of nails clicking against the floor reaches her ears, and Star hops up onto the couch, presses herself back against Cora’s chest and stretches out.

Cora sighs, lets herself sink further into Lydia’s lap, and drops one hand to Star’s side, anchors it in her sleek fur.

“You don’t have to,” she says. “This is enough for now.”

[earthstory]

The less grand Staircase

The uppermost layer in the package of sedimentary rocks representing the Grand Canyon is the Permian aged Kaibab Limestone, just over 250 million years old. That was not the last sedimentary unit deposited in what is today Arizona and Utah. That area continued to see sedimentary rock deposition until the Cretaceous – nearly 200 million years more sedimentary layers on top of the Grand Canyon layers.

Those layers aren’t exposed at the Canyon site any more; they’ve eroded away. To the north of the Grand Canyon, the sedimentary package gently folds and is faulted down, exposing layers that are stratigraphically above those at the Canyon. Some of these younger layers are eroded into their own spectacular features – the Navajo Sandstone, for example, makes up much of the exposure in Zion National Park. The Navajo Sandstone is just one of more than a dozen sedimentary units that formed in this area.

Just like in the Grand Canyon, these units vary in their properties. Some are well lithified and make steep cliffs like the Navajo Sandstone does, others are weaker and erode back easily. Just as in the Grand Canyon, this setup creates a “Stairstep” pattern, where the landscape steps upwareds at the edge of a resistant layer and then erodes away at a weaker layer.

Southern Utah, to the north of the Grand Canyon, therefore, is a gigantic geologic stairstep pattern. This area is nicknamed the “Grand Staircase”. You get that impression in this picture from the central part of the area – stairstepping geologic units.

In the 1990s, President Bill Clinton used the power of an early 20th century bill called the Antiquities Act to declare much of the Grand Staircase part of “Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument”. The original power to declare National Monuments was established in part to allow rapid protection of historical relics without the approval of Congress, which is required to create a full national park, but Presidents have historically used this power to set aside large areas for protection. It is often controversial as setting aside territory for protection means that you can’t make money on the area by tearing it apart, but this power has been used in the past to protect areas including what is today Grand Canyon National Park just to the south - Congress often eventually turns National Monuments into National Park sites once enough visitors begin coming to the area.

On Monday, something that has never happened is apparently going to happen. No President has ever shrunk a National Monument – in fact none has ever tried to do so. President Donald Trump is coming to Utah on Monday to declare that he will shrink Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument and one other, Bears Ears National Monument, created by President Obama just over a year ago.

We don’t yet have maps of the areas that will be removed from the national monuments, and some areas have been declared Wilderness areas and have additional protections against development, but there’s a good chance that this photo will not look the same in a few years. The central part of Grand Staircase covers a coal-bearing unit and if the geotag on this photo is correct, this photo sits right above that coal-bearing unit. There are other natural gas deposits in the park as well, and local officials who have submitted maps of new park boundaries typically make sure these areas are outside the National Monument so that they can be mined and drilled.

Earlier this year, the US Interior Secretary allowed public comments about what to do with these monuments and the comments were overwhelmingly in favor of keeping them as they were – a required step before making such a change. There are local officials who want to open these areas to drilling and grazing, and the changes will be basically choosing their voices over the voices of the people who submitted comments.

It is uncertain what will happen when they try to do this. The text of the Antiquities Act gives the President the ability to declare a monument but there is no law stating how a monument can be undeclared, so there will likely be a long legal case. But…if they do what they want to do, the area in this photo will one day host a coal mine.

-JBB

Image credit: https://flic.kr/p/KfLBNY

References: http://wapo.st/2j3q7q5 http://zion-gardner-bosch.weebly.com/plate-tectonics.html http://bit.ly/2io03ck

[boysinblades]

My internet is down (been blogging from my phone like a savage) so I can’t upload a proper video. But here is the English translation of the Spanish Commentators.

S=Susana

P=Paloma

S: Regardless of what he does, this man always astounds (us). He’s second, behind Nathan Chen by 6 points. But Yuzuru Hanyu is a lot. This season he’s got a score of 155, but of course he is (can score) way beyond that number.

(4Lz)

P/S: Woah!

S: How has he saved that!

P: What a knee and quadriceps.

(3Lo)

P: Triple

(4S)

S: 4S

(4T+3T)

P: 4T+3T

(3A+2T)

P: 3A

(Finishes)

P: It wasn’t perfect, it didn’t work out perfectly for him.

S: I wouldn’t worry about it because Yuzuru Hanyu is Yuzuru Hanyu. But down they go, the Winnie the Poohs. But he’s not happy

P: No, no. Let’s see, he had 5 quads planned, out of those 5 he has done 1-2-3. That 4Lo ended up as a 3Lo and the second (?) 4T was a double. Magnificent 3As, they’re incredible. Magnificent when he does the quads, but he knows that he needs, well if he’s not perfect, at least 4 quads this season. Anyway he’s a very well rounded skater, technically in the jumps, technically in the spins, the changes of position he does. Beautiful, original, well-centered.

S: The artistic part if wonderful.

P: That too, the skating skills, the steps, the choreography. Of course, he’s human, He’s human and the technical errors can happen to him as they did. But well, we’re speaking on mayor terms, a 4Lz, we’ll see that 4Lz landing in slow motion.

(4Lz slo mo)

P: Here it is. No doubt on the outside edge at the entry.

S: Wonderful

P: Clean and how he’s hold on to that landing, bending the knee.

S: The second most difficult jump after the Axel is the Lutz and he’s done a 4Lz.

(3Lo slo mo)

P: Here he was going for the quad but he couldn’t rotate it, was a triple. Quality in the skating skills and choreography.

(4S slo mo)

P: Here’s the 4S

S: Woah

P: I have my doubts whether he put the free leg down or not in that 4S landing, it was overturned

 (4T+3T slo mo)

S: Even if it doesn’t go well, it’s a joy to watch him.

P: He’s taken the risk to go for the quad-triple combination and here it is.

S: His air position is so quick. He’s very fats because even if the take off is not good, he gets a perfect air position. 

P: Of course those quad rotations are clean.

(3A+2T slo mo)

P: The 3A which he does as if it were nothing out of that spread-eagle entrance.

S: It’s so pretty.

P: He does them with barely any speed, barely any set up. Perfect. And as if that free skate didn’t have enough, near the end he does this very difficult choreographic movement (hydroblade).

S: He’s wonderful. It’s a joy to watch him. It’s wonderful to see Yuzuru Hanyu skate. Even if it’s not 100%, but he is..

P: He is so well rounded. He’s got it all. 

S: Jumping technique, choreography, skating skills. He is translating to Brian what the banners in the stands said.

(Scores show up)

S: All the PCS above 9, as you can imagine. 9.54 in Skating Skills, Choreography, Interpretation. PCS 94, 101 in TES. This man has achieved 223 points in a free skate, this time he’s gotten 195. At the World Championships this very same year he got 223 that is out of this world. He goes into 1st and now he’ll have to wait to see what Nathan Chen does.

[notebookfilledwithscrabbles]

Worlds 2019 – Yuzuru Hanyu FS by J SPORTS

Translation post 22

Original language: Japanese

Translator’s note: This is not a word-for-word translation. I paraphrased some of the things said in the broadcast to clarify the main point.

Announcer: Chizuru Kobayashi. She is a freelancer who has been working for figure skating programs on J SPORTS for years.

Commentator: Makoto Okazaki. ISU Technical Specialist and a coach. He won a bronze medal at 2001 Winter Universiade as a singles skater and has been contributing figure skating columns titled "岡崎真の目 (Eyes of Makoto Okazaki)" to Sponichi.

 (Hanyu takes a deep breath and shakes hands with Brian, Ghislain, then squeezes Pooh)

Kobayashi: And here comes Yuzuru Hanyu of Japan, who was in the 3rd place after the short program.

(PA announcer calls his name and Hanyu leaves for his starting position)

Okazaki: Overwhelming amount of cheers.

Kobayashi: Yes, they are cheering wildly. He is 12.53 points away from Nathan Chen who was 1st in the short.

Okazaki: These cheers will surely give him a boost.

Kobayashi: I think so, too.

 (Hanyu starts his performance)

Kobayashi: (t/n: His program is) "Origin," an arrangement of his idol Evgeny Plushenko's "Tribute to Nijinski." He is going to attempt four quads. The first one is going to be a quad loop.

(4Lo)

Okazaki: Quad loop. He saved the landing.

(4S)

Okazaki: Quad Salchow. Aww! It might have been a bit under-rotated, but he did a good job saving it.

(FCCoSP)

Okazaki: Jumped into a flying camel spin. Camel upward, camel sideways. This is a flying change-foot combination spin. From sit sideways to upright forward. A level 4 spin.

(Stsq)

Okazaki: Step sequence. Right rocker, counter, twizzle. Left rocker, counter, counter.

(3Lo)

Okazaki: Triple loop. Well-controlled despite the short set-up.

Kobayashi: Here comes another series of quads.

(4T)

Okazaki: Quad toe. Very nice!

(4T-3Aseq)

Okazaki: Quad toe, triple Axel sequence. Again, he did a very good job saving it.

(3F-3T)

Okazaki: Triple Flip, triple toe combination. This one was also nice.

(3A-1Eu-3S)

Okazaki: Three-jump combination consisted of triple Axel from a backward-outside counter, single Euler, and triple Salchow. This one was also well-executed.

Kobayashi: And that was the last jump. (t/n: in this program)

(Chsq)

Okazaki: And now, it's the choreographic sequence. Ina Bauer on forward-outside edge. Hydroblading.

(FCSSp)

Okazaki: Entered from a difficult air-position. Sit forward. This is a flying change-foot sit spin. Completed 8 revolutions in sit behind position. It's a level 4 spin.

(CCoSp)

Okazaki: Entered with a difficult entry. Change of edge in camel position. Change of foot with jumping. Included a variation in a non-basic position. This is a change-foot combination spin, level 4.

 (After Hanyu’s performance)

Kobayashi: Loud cheers from the audience. People in commentary positions around us are still applauding.

Okazaki: Hahaha. It's amazing!

Kobayashi: It's wonderful.

(Hanyu takes a bow to the audience)

Kobayashi: This is the world championships held in Saitama, Japan. The atmosphere in the arena is just incredible.

Okazaki: And an incredible amount of stuffed animals are thrown into the rink. (Laughs) Wow, this is spectacular...

Kobayashi: Indeed. ...Well, he was amazing.

Okazaki: Yes. Well, he reeled a bit on the landing of the quad Salchow and the jump looked a bit under-rotated, but other than that, he controlled everything so well.

Kobayashi: But (t/n: the landing of) the Salchow was also incredible. How could he stay on his foot that way?

Okazaki: Without stepping out or falling, right? That is something only he can do.

Kobayashi: Definitely.

(Hanyu comes back to the board)

Kobayashi: The Russian commentators sitting next to us never stopped applauding after he landed the last jump. It was amazing.

(Hanyu, Ghislain, and Brian take seats in the Kiss and Cry)

Kobayashi: Look at the amount of stuffed animals. It must be tough to collect them.

Okazaki: Yes...

 (During the replay of the highlights)

(Hanyu at the beginning of the program)

Kobayashi: He looked completely concentrated.

Okazaki: Yes, as if he was in the zone.

Kobayashi: Exactly.

(4Lo)

Okazaki: The quad loop. Looks good. (t/n: When he landed it,) His weight shifted on his heel for a moment but (t/n: he saved it) with no trouble at all. Excellent.

(Ice Scope data: Distance 2.20m, Height 0.64m, Running speed out of the jump: 9.5km/h)

Kobayashi: If I remember correctly, he injured his right ankle. Is that correct?

Okazaki: That's right, but he didn't make us feel its impact on his performance. He really is back on form.

(4S)

Okazaki: Ah, it does look a bit under-rotated, but from here... despite being almost in the sit position... (t/n: he regained his balance)

Kobayashi: That made us feel how strong he was.

Okazaki: It's incredible.

(3Lo and 4T)

Okazaki: Then there were jumps with a short set-up like this. This kind of jump does not make it easy for you to have a good flow out of it, so it is very difficult to control your body while landing it, but he still managed to hold the landing position. That's impressive.

Kobayashi: Indeed.

Okazaki: The lack of flow makes this kind of jump look less flashy, but it is very hard to go into a jump with a difficult entry and maintain control of your body even after landing.

(4T-3Aseq and the coaches watching it)

Okazaki: This Axel was also with short set-up and entered from a back outside counter... (t/n: I think he probably confused it with the other Axel in the 3A-1Eu-3S)

Kobayashi: Yes. He is the only one who can do such a thing.

Okazaki: Yes, and taking everything into account, it is natural for him to receive huge GOEs.

Kobayashi: Right.

(3A-1Eu-3S)

Kobayashi: Coach Orser's jump was bigger than usual.

Okazaki: Yes... This is the three-jump combination. This also looks good.

Kobayashi: This was the last jump in this program.

(Ina Bauer in Chsq shot from above)

Okazaki: The whole arena had already gone wild in excitement during this choreographic sequence.

Kobayashi: It was intense.

(Close-up shot of Hydroblading)

Okazaki: This also consumes your energy, and he did it at the very end of the program. I think he fought so well until the end.

Kobayashi: I agree.

(When they show the footage of his face at the end of his performance, the audience cheer loudly for him)

Kobayashi: Now this is what champion is. Yuzuru Hanyu, the winner of two consecutive Olympic titles and the two-time world champion.

 (Hanyu and the coaches in the Kiss and Cry)

Kobayashi: Now, what kind of scores should we expect?

Okazaki: I can't say.

Kobayashi: I am sure they will be huge.

Okazaki: (Laughs) They are still collecting the stuffed animals.

Kobayashi: Yes. It is a hard job.

(PA announcer announces his scores)

Okazaki: Ah, he scored over 200.

Kobayashi: Amazing. He scored 206.10. His technical score is 110.

Okazaki: Wow.

Kobayashi: And (t/n: his total score is) over 300! He did it.

Okazaki: Wow, it's incredible to score over 300 after falling behind in the short that way.

Kobayashi: It is indeed incredible. His total score is 300.97. At the beginning of this season, ISU restarted all the records, but in the end, it was Hanyu who broke the 300-point barrier.

Okazaki: Yes. I guess he managed to put a big-enough pressure on the remaining two skaters.

Kobayashi: I agree.