#i was only there for two hours and i was given a gatorade | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

arjun-muralidharan · 1 year ago

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June 26th to 28th 2008 Venue: Complexe sportif Claude-Robillard Time clocked: 2:02.57 Olympic Qualifying Target Timing: 2.01.78 Location: Montreal Quebec Canada

The new Neophrene Speedo LZR racing suits were launched about a month prior to this meet and were all the buzz about how they are reducing about half a second for all the swimmers who got their hands on one. Only a selective few coaches were given these suits to help their swimmers make the Olympic cut. I asked my coach Byron Macdonald to get me one if possible. But he said it wasnt available in my size as i was a size 44 at the time. My teammate Terrence Hayes got his hands on a size 40 LZR which was his size. I asked him if i could borrow it for the 100 butterfly and he said yes. The suit took a good 45 mins to put on with the help of my brother but i knew it was too tight and difficult to breathe in but the tradeoff was worth it if it helped me make the Olympic cut. My target was to go 54.50 and qualify in the 100 itself and not leave it all to my main event which was the 200 fly. But unfortunately these suits as amazing as they were had a notorious reputation for having atrocious zips which never held together. On the blocks as the starter buzzed prepping to say "take your marks" my suits zip snapped open and my heart froze as i realised what happened. I swam the race with my entire suit filled with water way off the mark at 57.24. It was extremely disheartening and i decided to give up the idea of experimenting with any new suits and rely on my own Speed FS PRO suit for the 200 fly as that was my last chance.

100 fly results: https://www.swimrankings.net/index.php?page=meetDetail&meetId=530519&gender=1&styleId=16

Next morning woke up at 5:45 AM in my hotel room. Had a couple of bananas with energy drinks & stretched for about 30 mins preparing for the morning prelim swim. I had strategised to win the event and secure an Olympic QT i will need to secure a top 3 position in the prelims. My target was to swim 2:08 in the heats trusting that my conditioning and recovery rate helps me get ready & push through to 2:01 in the finals later in the day. Was about an hour's drive to the pool from our hotel as Montreal traffic jams are quite hectic. All through the journey had my ipod on listening to my usual rap tracks to be in the zone and suppress the butterflies in my stomach. Reached the pool and got in for the warmup. The water felt extremely light and muscles were feeling loose and fluid. This reinforced my confidence by a huge margin.

The race started out i was in the first heat. TIM RUSE of Pointe-Claire Swim Club and KISHIDA Masayuki of Japan took the lead early into the race with me comfortably in the third place. I decided to swim conserving energy i increased my stroke rate and pace around 150 meters pulling ahead of Tim RUSE and qualifying 5th for the finals swimming 2:09. Went back to the hotel had a big breakfast and a quick nap. However our swim coaches wouldnt give us a seperate room like the first two days and asked us to move and adjust with 7 other swimmers in one bed. Unfortunately some of the swimmers were given seperate rooms for their events. I knew i had a lot riding on this race to qualify for Beijing Olympics and i couldnt afford to let lack of rest and comfort come in the way of my performance. So i had to fight with other swimmers who didnt have events and ask them to move so i can get a bed to take a nap on prior to the finals. My older brother Amar who was after the same goal had swam in the morning and qualified third for the finals clocking 2:09. He couldnt get a proper place to sleep thanks to all the money saving going on by the club into clustering up swimmers so they dont have to pay for rooms. I was willing to pay more for my own room but the management and coaches refused to accomodate this request. My brother went out to Harvey's & Tim Horton's and got us both lunch which consisted of a few gatorade drinks and chicken burgers.

At about 3:00 PM we checked out of the hotel and went with all our luggage to the pool for the finals. I warmed up surprisingly feeling good but the water felt slightly cold which didnt matter much to me. I knew i am going to swim fast during the warm up but the question was how fast will it be and will it be enough? I meditated a bit after the warmup in solitude praying to the god of strength, visualizing my race and started suiting up in my FS PRO which was an old / outdated suit at the time but i trusted it'll get the job done.

As me and my brother walked out for the finals we suddenly saw the on deck commentator getting the crowd going on the last day. There were about 15000 people in attendance that broke out into a mexican wave. It was a sight to see and got me pumped up to swim the race fast. 10 mins after we were in the marshalling room getting ready to walk out to the blocks when the commentator announced the names of the swimmers walking out one by one. As our names were called out the announcer asked the crowd to give a big round of applause for us for coming all the way from India and racing in Canada. 5000 large crowd stood up and clapped for us making me feel honored and proud. It was a very unforgettable and special moment for us in our lives.

The race started with me opening out in the blistering 56.83 taking the lead. As i made the turn for the third 50 i saw the Toronto Swim Club team standing near my lane and screaming for me to bring it home. In the last lap at the 175 meters mark my hands turned to concrete but i knew it was a do or die situation. I said screw it and went 20 meters head down swim with my lungs nearing explosion but i wouldnt relent till i touched the wall, when i finally hit the last stroke i knew i left whatever i had and gave it my all regardless of the outcome. I turned around and saw that i missed the Olympic qualifying mark by .70 of a second. However i had broken the Canada Cup record and become the first and only Indian swimmer to win a gold at a foreign national championship. It was a mixed emotion of feeling you accomplised something but sad that you lost something at the same time. All my coaches, training partners came and gave me a pat, handshakes and three cheers along with the crowd as well. After coming out of the pool all i could do is take a bow and acknowledge the great people who were showing appreciation.

I had a long and heartfelt call with my dad and mentor who was back home watching the race live. He said "The only thing that matters is that you gave it your best and made your parents and country proud" In the end that is the main thing.

200 fly results: https://www.swimrankings.net/index.php?page=meetDetail&meetId=530519&gender=1&styleId=17

All in all it was a great experience and something i cherish to this day. Winning and Losing is all a part of the sport. What matters is what you take from it and how you grow thereafter. These are the experiences we impart onto our students who will be the champions of tommorrow.

#swim #arjunmuralidharan #toronto #swimmer #competitive swimming #india #canada

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ranaiki · 3 years ago

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jjk when you’re sick

a/n: random thoughts i had, kinda self indulgent. don’t have motivation for my big pieces and am stressed to the high heavens so y’all take this. Not proofread, we die like women.

inumaki, who comes to check on you with two bags full of everything you could need - medicines, food, water, gatorade - you name it. Who sits by your bedside, watching your facial expressions and body language for signs of pain or discomfort. Whispering “tuna mayo” with a concerned tone, tucking the blankets closer to your resting figure every time they slide off of you.

gojo, who pretends to act like he hardly notices nor cares that you’re bedridden and incredibly sick, but incapable of hiding the concern plain on his face. Stays in your room under the pretenses of bothering you, but checks on you every time you make a sound or move, ready to get anything you request of him.

megumi, who doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but does his best to be there for you and make sure you’re alright. Asks Inumaki and Panda for guidance before going to visit, and comes equipped with medicine and cold towels. Checks on you and makes sure you’re doing alright as he places the cold towel on your forehead, sits on the edge of the bed with his hand resting close to your body in silence as you rest.

itadori, who rushes to your room as soon as he hears you are sick. Doesn’t heed any warnings about being careful of getting sick himself, or being too energetic around you while you’re ill. Fusses over you - tucks you in, tries to force feed you/force you to drink and take medicine, asks over and over what you need. Peppers your face with kisses. Ends up sick himself a week later.

nobara, who brings you tons of junk food and snacks. Sits in your room with you and turns on netflix. Watches kids television (think disney movies) and snacks with you, though is pretty much the only one eating. Checks your temperature for you every hour, and picks up anything if you ask for it, but otherwise just spends time with you in your room.

maki, who knew you were sick long before you were bedridden or realized you were sick yourself. Who told you to go get some rest the day before you ended up coughing and barely able to move. Comes into your room after you’ve truly fallen ill and scolds you, but ends up helping you by getting you whatever you need and just generally caring for you. Asks Inumaki to cook food you crave rather than cooking it herself.

toji, who climbs into bed with you as soon as he realizes your sick. Pulls you close to his chest (if you have chills) to keep you warm, and just lays there for the day. Doesnt really offer medicine or food, but makes sure to keep you and himself hydrated as you both nap.

nanami, who is the most practical. Examines your symptoms, and decides to call in a doctor to check on you, make sure you’re alright. Follows any instructions he’s given to a T, even if you’re resistant. Will basically stick to you like glue until he’s certain you’re well enough to return to the way things normally are.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #inumaki x reader #megumi x reader #gojo x reader #itadori x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #maki x reader #nobara x reader

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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 2 years ago

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Better with a friend

When - chronologically, this is after “What were your nightmares about?”, so you and Daryl are heading off to search for Sophia, as it’s rapidly approaching the 72 hour mark. (Because this series is non linear, “Happy 8th of July!” was published right before this)

Perspective - it’s mainly 3rd person Daryl POV, so you’re the secondary character this time around, slowpokes.

Pronouns - she/they. Fancy, I know.

Relationships/characters - it’s you and our mangy hick, always working toward that nice slow burning Daryl x Reader

TWs - language, mention of parental death, mention of stats involving missing persons/children, mention/allusion to childhood abuse

Word count - it’ll take you 10-15 minutes according to average WPM

References to other stories - your flashbacks from What were your nightmares about?, that little spat you and Dary-bear had in “Deserved” Part 1, Daryl having given you generic gatorade after a migraine in How’s your head? Part 2, your chronic migraines, your injuries from Just one scrap Pt. 1, the phrase ‘ain’t nothing’ from Ain’t nothing as well as how T-Dog and Daryl started to become bros because they both really like barbecue sauce, and how you were eating barbecue sauce in That mangy hick! when the camp was overrun, the name-calling from Two idiots. You might as well read It was a pragmatic cigarette, too, y’all.

In fact, if you click here, you can read everything at your leisure!

Fine, it’s better to have Y/N here.

Even though he’s still unsure about them being out here with their messed up arm (they put icy hot on it, he can smell the mint) and the fact that they have fresh stitches.

And it was better to have them there even though she’d brought along peanuts (nasty) and now had peanut-y breath, so he’d noticed when they’d gotten close. Not that, um, not that her breath smelling was a big deal.

Probably a step up from his cigarette and canned-tuna-for-breakfast breath, especially considering he hadn’t brushed his teeth this morning…or last night. And he hadn’t washed in a while—shit, he’d also not used deodorant again.

That’s another thing about hanging around Y/N, he thought about that stuff a little more. She always had him use bug spray, too.

It was weird, but in a good way. It was like they cared.

He decided to start the search within a one mile radius of the house he’d found the makeshift cot in the closet and the recently emptied can in the trash. After that, if no signs were there, they’d branch out.

Except that the only noticeable sign of anything were deer and wild hog tracks, and those were messing up everything.

Funny enough, Y/N seemed to get nervous about the hog tracks.

“You more scared of feral pigs or dark water?” he jokes, kinda curious to find out if they were actually scared.

“We don’t got the firepower to handle one if one saw us and didn’t like it, is all…��

True enough. His crossbow and Y/N’s handgun would be like throwing rocks.

“It’s dumb, it’s just I, um, I helped transport a guy to the homsinal—hospital—uh, who’d got royally gored by one once. Him and his two dogs.”

Oh, man. “That guy wasn’t tryin’ to rack them up for some competition, was he?”

They shake their head, and he notices their eyes look shiny. “Nah, just protecting his farm,” they hush. More loudly, they then ask, “Have you ever done a competition?”

“Nah, but I guess I would wanna do it for bounties like some places got. My Uncle Jess did that a few times when I was young, traveled out to Texas and Mississippi.”

“You’ve talked about him before. He must’ve been a good influence—bought you your first bow you told me, right?”

He’d mentioned that back when he first let her tag along for a hunt, that was about two and a half months ago by now? Back when he thought she’d lose interest or mess him up more often than not. They remember that after all this time, though?

Well, he considers that they are... his friend.

It still feels weird to him to think that they’re ‘friends’ now, even after the month and a half or whatever they’ve been, um, ‘friends.’ He might even be friends with T-Dog now, too, of all people, but he isn’t certain. He hoped, but...

That word still surprised him sometimes, too. ‘Friend.’ He isn’t sure if he trusts it yet.

Anyway, it’s time to branch out, they’d searched that one-mile radius and found shit.

Right around here should be...yeah, there it is.

He points.

“Is that a path?”

“Some local trail, yeah. The doctor guy mentioned it.”

It was the only time the old farmer/doctor had talked to him. Said “There’s a local nature path not known to many people due Northwest of here, only about a mile or so from the property. It’s not marked on the maps as such. But if the other child from your group who became lost in the woods wandered this far, it’s very likely she would have followed it.”

Y/N’s voice went up and their sentence came out fast. “It’s perfect! If Sophia came across here, sh-she would’ve stayed on it—prombly all the way to a road! Sorry, ‘probably.’”

“Here’s hopin’.”

He and them follow it northeast for…well, neither of them has a watch on, but based on the position of the sun it’s about mid to late morning. It’s getting harder and harder to tell given that the skies are clouding over.

“Sophia!” he calls for what’s already the umpteenth damn time that day. It’ll be three days once the late afternoon hits. Three days she’s been out there.

“Baby girl, it’s me and Daryl! Don’t be afraid to shout back or make noise, we’re here to get you safe!” Y/N is sounding a little desperate when she next shouts, “We just need to know where you are!”

Shit, his water bottle is empty. He turns toward the stream off the path and stomps over to it, trying to find a spot with faster running water. He knew it was risky regardless and that he might get the shits, but he was thirsty. Not like he hadn’t done it before.

“It still makes me nervous whenever you do that, Daryl,” Y/N mumbles. Then came a zipping noise, the sound of rummaging through a bag, then tinkling sound as if from a rattle. He turned his head to see Y/N holding out a tiny brown pill and a small glass bottle. “Here, toss an iodine tab in there.”

An iodine tab?

…Sorry, it still feels so damn weird all the stuff Y/N does. A good weird, don’t get him wrong, but Y/N is very…what’s the right word, ‘caring?’ Did that sound like a dick thing to think? And was he a sad, pitiful sumbitch for being kinda suspicious of all that? It just didn’t make sense.

Maybe he just hasn’t had a good friend in a while.

With a nod of his head and what's probably an awkward thanks, he takes the little tablet and drops it into his bottle, shaking it around.

“Don’t want you catchin’ giardia or such, that would suck,” they explain, massaging their neck.

“It does suck.” He’d gotten it once. Really sucked.

After she makes a little “oof,” in sympathy or whatever, he looks back to find her squinting over the area map they’d brought along. “Looks like over in that direction will be some kind of, um, it’s promally—sorry, ‘probably’—an elegridal—” a slight grunt of annoyance, “elec-tric-al maintenance, um, uh, place.”

Why are they messing up their words so much today?

Finishing up, they put to him, “This map’s really old, though, like pre-GPS. What d’you reckon?”

He hums and nods. “The building will still be there. Besides, we gotta try everythin’ if we’re gonna get this girl found.”

Y/N’s hand then finds its way to the spot she had the stitches, and covers it as she walks on.

He doesn’t like that, but, well, it was their choice to have headed out with him.

“You good to keep goin’ on?” he finds himself asking anyway.

“Yeah, ain’t nothing.”

Hadn’t they been over that phrase?

As if a scoff wasn’t bad enough, it comes out of his mouth before he can rethink it: “If you’re too sore or whatever, it’s gonna slow us down. Just head back, don’t be an idiot.”

He knows they don’t like being called that, yet he called them that anyway, why? The words ‘mangy hick’ pop into his head as he braces himself for their reaction.

“Have I slowed us down at any point today?” they state more than ask.

“Not yet.” You coulda just said ‘no,’ asshole.

Some kind of cuss growls from Y/N’s mouth along with a very clearly enunciated, “Well then, quit actin’ like a bitch.” And to rub it in, they jog in the direction of the maintenance building.

The memory of that rainy hunt when they caught the goose comes back to him. Y/N doesn’t like being called an idiot, and he himself doesn’t like being called a bitch. His memory travels further to that quick spat they had back when Glenn apparently drove a car to camp with the alarm still blaring. Same day his brother was handcuffed to that fucking roof…

Quit being a pissy bitch, Darylina.

Right, um, anyway, that was the first time him and Y/N had really gone at it, he guessed. And her little “Yeah, you best watch yours, sunshine,” they’d snapped in response to him warning them to “Watch your mouth,” still made him want to smile when he thought about it.

He was gonna use that some day, that shit was funny.

Back to reality, he jogs after her and joins her in carefully peeking into the windows to make sure they weren’t speeding into a bad situation head-first.

And…the one-room maintenance building proves to be a bust, all it has is a dead guy stumbling around in it.

He felt so damn certain they’d find some kind of sign along the hiking trail, it was so close to the house with the can and the little cupboard bed!

The two of them follow the path all the way to the damned trailhead, and then all they find is an abandoned car in a small dirt parking lot at the side of some backroad.

Probably belonged to the lone geek who tried living in the maintenance building; that guy had a dog with him at some point or another. There were dog bowls and a bed in the corner of the building, and there’s a chew toy and one of those car hammocks for dogs in the backseat.

He starts getting caught up on the what-ifs about what happened to it. He really hopes it wasn’t eaten.

Then he notices Y/N looking sadly at the backseat, too.

“Dogs are good at survivin’,” he figures he’d say. It was true.

“Mm,” they hum back, then start to hurry off to the road, so he follows right behind.

He and them look up one way, then the other.

With a soft hm?, her eyes suddenly narrow at something as she jogs to a pile near the side of the road a few yards off.

He squints in the same direction, aiming his bow around the area just in case.

“Just a hoodie,” he hears them sigh. “Soph had on a...yeah, a blue t-shirt with a…there was something on it, a cloud or somethin’… she had her cargo capris on.” They turned to look at him, hand massaging their neck again. “Do you remember if she had a sweater or jacket tied around her hips?”

He hadn’t really thought about what the girl was wearing when she went missing. Hadn’t noticed.

“She had Eliza’s ragdoll with her, didn’t she?” Y/N remembers. “And the pink walkie, for all the good that did,” they mutter next before taking off down the road until he calls for them to stop.

“Let’s check the trail fully first.” He gestures back to the path. “She was lost in the woods and was told to keep the sun on her left shoulder. That means she would’ve headed in that direction,” he told her with a thumb pointed behind him, back up the hiking path.

They aren’t so sure, judging by the way they open then shut their mouth and keep looking back. “But the road may have seemed the smarter, clearer option to her.”

True…

“We’ll circle back,” he offers. If there’s time today. But maybe they’ll find her and won’t have to.

The weather is looking like it’s gonna get bad real fast. The tree canopy will provide some protection from the rain, at least.

You

You can’t get the image of Mama’s dog out of your head. The nightmares last night were bad enough, but then the hog tracks reminded you of that patient’s two dogs, one of whom was already dead by the time the ambulance got there—which of course sent you right back into your bad memories about Mama.

Then, whoever was living in that maintenance building had a dog at some point, too. Hopefully it was living a happy, uneaten life with a pack of strays as you speak. Maybe Mister Cat was with him, he liked dogs…

And you didn’t realize it until a short while ago, but you’re in the prodrome phase of another goddamned migraine. Hopefully it won’t hit until tomorrow or the day after, but your neck is getting stiff and achy, you can’t get your words right, you feel distracted, there’s rain coming.

Whoop-de-fucking-doo, Daryl will be proven right. You are such an idiot. Like, you didn’t even remember to bring painkillers with you! Stupid, stupid idiot, you cannot let anything go wrong with you or slow you down.

It’s already been a half a day and you didn’t find anything else yet.

And it’s gonna be the full seventy-two hours soon. Your brother has been really hoping to not hit that number.

After seventy-two hours, statistics indicate the missing person will more likely be found as a corpse. Especially when it came to minors, unless she’s been kidnapped—oh my gosh, STOP. Stop overthinking, you’re overtired and in pain, just chill out. Be “zen” like Daryl said earlier.

Zen…

Him

For some reason, he wants to talk today. To Y/N, that is. They just seem quiet today, he doesn’t know.

“You have a dog before all this, Y/N?”

They still looked kinda out of it. Didn’t answer, neither. “If we find puppies or kittens, let’s bring back the whole litter. Deal?”

Sure. “Deal.”

They must’ve had a dog before all this. “What was your dog’s name?” he decides to phrase it.

Y/N still had on that blank sort of look. “‘Good Dog.’ He was Mama’s.”

He had to snort a little. “Perfect name for a dog, I guess.”

Thunder sounded in the distance. After sharing a look with him and raising her eyebrows at the incoming weather, her smile was peeking out. “Ask what the cat’s name was.”

“‘Bad Cat?’”

Cool, he earned a laugh outta them for that one.

Fully smiling, she tutted “Excuse you, it was Mister Cat. What ablout—about you, you have a pet?”

Might as well. “I kinda had a cat when I was a kid. Found this little, black, scrawny kitten when I’d got lost.”

“Aw, that’s swe—wait, what do you mean ‘got lost?’”

Right, he’d hadn’t told Y/N about that. He’d told Andrea, of all people.

He’s still surprised that he’d shared that, but he’d wanted to prove that Sophia could be alright just like he’d been alright—and after nine days on his own. Well, ‘alright’ minus the itchy ass.

“I’ll save the story for when we have those beers and you tell me about that thing.”

He hadn’t forgotten she was gonna tell him whatever made her ask to bum a cigarette last night.

“I-I was hopin’ you didn’t remember or weren’t serious.” And before he could reply, they quickly asked, “What was your cat’s name?”

Fine. “Eyes.”

“Sorry?”

“‘Eyes,’” he repeated. Yeah, yeah, it was a weird name, he knows.

“Don’t leave me hangin’, by all means explain.”

More thunder. Sounded farther away, which was good. Wind picked up, though.

“In the dark, all ya could see were her eyes.” Why did his cheeks feel all warm? Ain’t no reason to be embarrassed. “S’how I found her.” He’d thought she was a raccoon kit.

“Why’d you say she was ‘kinda’ your cat?”

“My neighbor took her in. That old lady who got them bad headac—migraines—like you.” He corrected to the right word. Y/N wanted people remember the difference between the two.

Anyway, Dad hadn’t wanted a fleabag with claws liable to piss everywhere in his house, so the woman took her in. And Daryl had simply shut him and Merle’s bedroom door and left the bedroom window open with a can of tuna or some jerky or chopped up hot dog to encourage Eyes to visit.

Sometimes, she’d brought him trophies. He loved that cat.

Other than to call Sophia’s name, he and Y/N follow along the trails quietly. Time passes.

The thunder grows louder and rumbles more and more. And after the path makes its way back to the creek, he suggests they take a rest for a while.

It has to be an hour or two past noon by now. He needs to take a leak and a dump and needs to eat something, and he’s sure Y/N does, too.

He comes back from his bathroom break (he also nabbed a squirrel) to find Y/N rinsing out Jacqui’s blood-covered messenger bag in the creek. There was a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer and some snacks on a rock next to them. He isn’t sure what the deal is with that fancy-looking red shirt laid out on a rock, though. But he is sure that he shouldn’t draw attention to the fact that Y/N is teary-eyed.

“Thanks for the TP,” he said, tossing them the sealed bag with toilet paper. Definitely a step up from leaves. Especially poison oak…

Y/N then casually mentions, “Dude, try out the hand-sanitizer, it’s lemon scented.”

It wasn’t like he wiped his ass with his fingers…still, hint taken. He walked over and squeezed some into his hand.

“I don’t think this lemon stuff’ll cover the smell of your bug spray, though.”

“Or your smokes.”

“Or your peanut breath.”

“Peanuts taste and smell yummy, what’s the problem?” they ask as they soak-wring-rinse, soak-wring-rinse. “Unlike tuna fish, which smells like…tuna fish,” they deadpan regarding his choice of breakfast this morning.

Not wanting to crack up too obviously, he pushes out a burp to rub it in. “You eat?”

“Yeah. Good Moses, I nearly stress-ate everythin’ I brought, so, three cheers for willpower.”

He peels open the Slim Jim and grabs the packet of oyster crackers and the mini box of raisins. “I thought you couldn’t eat when you were stressed.” He’d overheard them tell their brother something like that in the RV, the first night Sophia was missing. Yeah, that was right before they got that headache—wait, no, ‘migraine.’

After giving him a look he couldn’t translate, they say, “You don’t miss a trick.” Wringing out the bag again, they then plunge it back into the water, holding it under with one hand and starting to massage their shoulder and neck with their other.

And, ignoring what he thought was an obvious stare at their injured shoulder, Y/N starts by describing, “I can’t eat when I’m worried. But when I’m stressed, I can eat everything.”

“Why didn’t you finish those peanuts then?”

They make a face. “Apparently I still have somethin’ of a taste aversion to barbecue, after the fish fry. Didn’t realize it until I smelled it. Which works in your favor, you like barbecue stuff, right? At least in your beans.”

True. But peanuts…he bravely sniffs the packet of sweet-mesquite barbecue peanuts. He hazards to try one…chews it…not nasty, he supposes to himself. Still, “I’ll save these for Sophia,” he says out loud.

He opens the Slim Jim first and takes tiny, quick bites to break it up and get it all into his mouth in one go. “What’s with the red shirt?” he wants to know next, mouth full.

“Present for Carol,” Y/N mumbles. “Some blood soaked through the bag, got onto it. I didn’t want her finding it and washin’ it. It would runin—ruin—the, um, the surprise. Though, I ain’t sure if she’ll…” A deep breath. “It’s from the day Sophia went missing. I snuck it into my bag right before the herd showed. Ain’t sure she’ll want it no more.”

He doesn’t know what to say back, so he empties the entire packet of oyster crackers into his mouth.

Y/N goes back to wringing the bag out.

Daryl refills the water bottles (she really is still using the Gatorade bottle?) while chowing down on the raisins, and before he can ask for the iodine things, they toss the bottle in his direction.

Duly adding the tablets, he asks “Blood all rinsed?” with a nod at the bag.

She wrings out the bag a final time and stuffs it into a plastic shopping bag, shoving that into the backpack, then folds up the red shirt neatly and tucks it into her bag as well. “No more red was comin’ out of it. Stained and creepy, though. Shall we get back to it?” they ask, standing up and just as quickly wavering on their feet. “Whoa.”

He doesn’t grumble or roll his eyes when she does. In fact, he hops up and steadies them with his hand just in case.

“Drink,” he then tells them, grabbing the bottles, handing her hers, and leading the way up the path. That’s when the rain starts.

It’s still good to have them there even when it’s rainy and uncomfortable. They’re good at making light.

“Feels nice to cool off. And no iodine tab needed, we can just baby bird up at the sky and get a drink,” Y/N jokes, making a big ah.

A few minutes later, there was a brief moment of hope. They thought they saw somebody in the woods. Turns out they did, they were just dead, though. Just a few walkers.

Y/N and he take them out, him with his crossbow, them with their screwdriver. She covers up the half-eaten fox carcass they were gnawing on with leaves and some branches. He thought he heard them mumble a number, ‘29’ or something under their breath, whatever that was for.

“Were there any other houses near the one you found the can at?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t run into any, doesn’t mean there weren’t none.”

“There’s this spot on the map I was starin’ at. That’s a plot of some kind, maybe a resona—residence—right?”

The rain starts getting heavier. Like, way heavier. “Let’s check it out.”

When they get there, the rain is so heavy it feels like someone is spraying a damned hose directly over their heads. But sure enough, there’s a small residence—but the door front door to the little stilted house is ajar.

There’s a handwritten sign on it that says “Gone to Atlanta. Door open, take shelter if you need!” In different handwriting underneath this is: “Please leeve our photografs and blongings.”

Not trusting that shit at all, he tries to peer inside, getting a quick look in all the windows. The stilted foundation isn’t too high, which is good.

The sign was telling the truth. It was an old couple’s house based on the pictures on the walls. Nice spot to retire, minus all the backwoods hikers they prolly had peeping into their windows at all hours.

After Y/N loudly asks twice something to effect of “If anyone is inside, say somethin’. We don’t mean any harm, but there will be two armed adults will be coming in the house unless you speak up!” he finally barges in.

And Y/N is M-A-D about it. “What the fuck, man? We could’ve waited a sec just in case somebody responded, what if they couldn’t hear us? Hello? We’re sorry!” they then shout loudly, as if to somebody hiding in a closet or whatever.

“You were wastin’ time.”

“Screw you, no I wasn’t,” they hissed as they hurried down the short hallway and turned into a room, pistol still out just in case as she quickly peeks into the few rooms in here.

You

Asshole! Such a brainless, mangy, hick of an asshole dickhead! What if there had been people in here? They would’ve been terrified! Shit would’ve gone down, just like shit went down when that bastard broke in and killed Ma—

—Yo. Take the kettle off the burner, Y/N. Calm down.

You good?

Your best friends in the before-times, Zee and Suri, used to say “offering up” physical and emotional pain was a good thing to do.

Well, the day’s more than half-through and you feel like you’ve offered up a month’s worth.

Your neck and injured shoulder are so achy they’re turning stiff and feel like a poker is sticking into them, your stitches are sore like a son-of-a-bitch, you feel nauseated. Well, you were insistent to head out today, and you know you’d be going crazy back at the farmhouse if you weren’t out here searching.

Seventy-two hours has almost past since she went missing.

Not that it’s a magical, cursed number that means Sophia will die as soon as the clock reaches three days, but…

After peeking under the bed and in the closet, you head over to the small room on the other side of the hallway to check under there.

This place is very clean. Sophia would’ve felt safe here. But there aren’t any signs of her.

Heading back out is very tempting.

You kneel down to look under the bed and get distracted by the particularly loud sudden uptick in the downpour. That’s how Dad died, flash flood. You don’t want to risk it, but…seventy-two hours is almost here. You don’t want risk not risking it if it means finding a scared, vulnerable missing child.

Him

This tiny house is a dead end. The pantry is empty, drawers are picked clean. The house is strangely clean, too, no sign of anybody having camped out. Maybe the bedrooms, though?

He steps down the hall and goes into the room opposite the one she went in.

Smoothly, he crouches to peek under the bed—and immediately lets out an expletive when he sees a face staring back at him from the other side, just as alarmed, at the same time a very loud thunderclap cracks and the sky lights up.

“Mother fu—Y/N?”

After cracking up (and cutting off with a wince because it hurt), Y/N explains, “That boom scared the giblets outta me.”

Giblets? “Same.”

“I also didn’t expect to see your face under there.”

“Same.” After seeing that instead of standing up, they rest their head against side the bed (?), he figures he might as well ask, “Why were you lookin’ under there?”

“Wanted to see if there was a sign our girl had been here.”

Smart. “Checkin’ under there is a good idea, that’s exactly where I used to hide when dad w—” Annnnd luckily he shuts his mouth right then.

Why he started to share that, he got no idea.

He and Y/N are friends, but why would he yap about some mopey bullshit from when he was a kid? Everyone hid under a bed sometimes, right? Wasn’t abnormal.

Although he wishes they hadn’t noticed at all, at least they don’t react to what he’d said by getting all pitiful and awkward, which is a relief.

What she does do is make a thoughtful nod as if she understands. “Let’s check the rest of the home. Well, what little there is. Under the beds, in the closets, and under desks.” This was followed by an unintentional groan as they stood up and curled toward their injured side. Must’ve hurt. “We’ve also found—sorry, we used to find—our, um, our kids hidden behind bigger things like couches, too. Oh, or the bathub if there is one.”

Her kids? Her kids…oh, right. “By ‘kids,’ you mean how y’all took in fosters, yeah?”

She’s mentioned that her ma was a foster mom. And the pic of her ‘middle sister’ he’d gotten a peek at once, he knew she’d been adopted. Wasn't sure about Y/N's case.

Now, foster parents can be shitty, but from what they’d said about their ma, she seemed like a stand-up lady. And, obviously Y/N gets along with kids no problem.

“Sorry, yeah, my foster siblings. Well, Mama taught me to think of them as cousins who stayed with us awhile. But, you know, as I g-got older, I couldn’t help but start to feel more and more parental towards them, than as my little cousins.”

He could see that…“You’re how old?”

“You’re around six and a half years older than Glenn and I,” they reminded him, noticing a small, ticking analog clock on a shelf and taking it.

He felt his cheeks heat again. Probably the humidity from the storm outside.

“Anyway, um, a number of my kids—my siblings,” she corrected herself, “over the years, when they were new and didn’t feel safe, sometimes they’d drag their, um, wrappy thing, uh, blanket—blanket and pillow, and curl up in one of them places.”

They’re stumbling over their words a lot today. They okay?

She lets out an exhale and quietly says to nobody in particular, “Sophia could have so easily been one of ours for a while, ain’t that strange to think about?”

That sentence confuses him a little.

“Carol only lived a few towns over from us, so I found out,” she told him by way of explanation, which means she was considering how Sophia could have had to live in foster care for a while, had shit gone down a little too hard at home.

Stupidly, he starts to think about how he’d sometimes wanted for nothing more than another place to crash in when he was a kid. A house that felt safe. Mopey Darylina.

“There’s gotta be somethin’ in this house worth giving to the poor woman,” Y/N comments out loud, heading off to look around.

It’s a quick search through the small house as he and Y/N look for any signs of somebody having camped out.

There are none.

He even checked the crawlspace attic.

But there’s no going anywhere else for now, not with the storm out there. Plus, this house is on steel stilts, that means they’re in a flood zone.

He flops down on the bed across from the room Y/N was in.

Fuck. He hopes Sophia has a shelter right now. She’s gotta, she’s got to be in some kind of shelter.

You

You found painkillers and a TENS unit here, that’s cool. You took some painkillers, that was also cool. Nothing really suited to be a gift for Carol that wasn’t a tiny figurine or a cardigan, that wasn’t as cool. And you and Daryl are also stuck here, that’s not cool at all.

And what Daryl accidentally hinted about his childhood wasn’t cool, either. That he used to hide under the bed when his dad was doing something, he didn’t get that far into his statement. But it made sense and it’s very sad.

He must’ve been so like some of the foster siblings you had over the years. You won’t pry because that’s rude, but given his hesitation to touch, his standoffishness, lack of routine self-care, and hot-headedness (not to mention how his older brother was), you have an idea of what his household was like growing up. You make a mental note to be more mindful about things like casual touches.

Then you adjust your position on the bed and wish you were anywhere else.

Don’t get you wrong, you are thrilled to be able to rest on a clean bed, but not when the clock was ticking...but really, there’s another analog clock in here and it’s ticky-tick-tocking away very obnoxiously as if to constantly remind you that the longer time passes, the greater the chance Sophia won’t be found breathing. Or at all.

What kind of shelter was she in right now? What if people found her? Were they good people or—no, stop thinking about those ‘what ifs.’

Him

He is so damned restless, but it’s still raining cats and dogs and damn near fucking horses out there.

He gets up and paces around again, fuming around the tiny home.

There isn’t any kind of hint that Sophia came by here. This little house is almost spotless. Ransacked, sure, but clean as hell, even the beds were made.

Sophia would’ve felt way safer here than at that nasty house with the closet cot…no, no doubts, Dixon. That house had the first real lead since the spot when her trail in the woods suddenly veered off in the opposite direction from the highway.

He stalks back to the window and stares out at the downpour. Time is being wasted with this bullshit storm.

Y/N had been pacing around, too, but was now laying on the bed in the back room. Not sure how the hell she can rest at a time like this. He’d been hesitant to let them come with him, with their injuries—not that he could tell them what to do, but they’d wanted his approval and kept trying to convince him yesterday until he became convinced. Another thing he begrudgingly liked about them.

Yeah, it was better with Y/N. They were honest, tough, and cared about shit. And now they’re laying down.

“Hey, man.”

Never mind, they’re up.

“Daryl, I’m going stir-crazy in here.”

“You and me both,” he grunts.

“It’s almost 72-hours, it’s thunderin’ and lightning, and our girl is out there. I-I ain’t fixing to go out and get us killed but if we leave now, it’s better than if we wait,” they stammer. “The wandermays—uh, waterways—will only get fuller the longer we wait.”

Kinda dramatic to say they’d ‘get killed’ by going out in the storm.

“What, worried you’ll melt?” he jokes about the rain.

They snort and mumble something about having made that joke themself before, but they add softly, “I was talking about the flood risk.”

“You ain’t wrong. The waterways will only get fuller the longer we wait.”

She eyes the door. “Time’s a-wastin’.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

What would they think about the clues in that house, he wonders?

Yeah, you know what? He and Y/N are gonna go back there. To that house.

Now.

To hell with waiting out the storm, the day’s almost over, they need to find that little girl!

That poor kid has been alone in a world where monsters are real and people are worse—she needs to be found. The rain is liable to wash away any hint of a trail left. Like Y/N said, time’s a-wasting.

“We gonna do this, then?” he asks, tossing his head toward the door as he grabs his stuff.

She inhales sharply in pain after moving wrong as she hoists her backpack on. “I think so.”

“Stick close.”

“Naturally.”

“I ain’t gonna go slow.”

“Perfect, I ain’t no slowpoke.”

He nods. Smiles. “M’glad you’re here. It’s better with a friend.” And after cupping their arm for a moment, he shouts, “Let’s head out, c’mon!” as he flings the front door open and sprints out into the thunderstorm.

__________________________

@spenciepoo338

comment or pop into the inbox if you want to be on the tag list, friends :)

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alex51324 · 1 year ago

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Thank you for all these details! Some of these points were in the info packet they gave me, so it sounds like they probably do things similarly to how you describe.

One fun part is that I am supposed procure a Gatorade and drink it 2 hours before my hospital arrival time. I was initially excited about getting to select my Gatorade from the vast array of neon-colored flavors, but then they told me it can't be red, purple, or blue. That mostly leaves orange and yellow, but I found something called Glacier Cherry Lime, which is white, so I went with that. (I was tempted by Strawberry Lemonade, but I was unsure whether pink was forbidden.)

The packet also says that I will not be given any solid food until dinnertime of the second day, but I am allowed two packs of gum for after surgery. I'm not much of a gum fan, but I figure I might want to chew something, so I have also obtained my quota of gum. I have not shopped for gum in probably 35 years, but I was surprised not to find any grape flavor. I got watermelon, but if I happen across any grape before then, I might smuggle in an extra pack in the lining of my suitcase.

I was not only issued the special pre-surgery soap; I was told to shower with it the night before, sleep on freshly-washed sheets in freshly-washed pyjamas, and then shower again with it in the morning. I do wonder if they are perhaps building a hedge around the law, so that those who half-ass the process will at least achieve a minimal standard of cleanliness, but I will follow the instructions to the letter, just in case.

Re: them asking your name and birthdate over and over, I got a taste of that already. I had to go today for a chest X-ray, EKG, and blood draw; all three procedures took about 20 minutes, were done by the same technician and in the same room, which neither of us left at any point during the process, but I still had to verify my info twice.

Good News Everyone!

The oncologist thinks it's very unlikely that my thing is malignant. Surgery is early next week; I'll give a full report in a bit--I have to walk the dog before it gets dark.

(PS: I will need to place my Redbubble order really soon, so if you want to pick out a sticker for me, now's a good time! Just choose it and drop the link in the notes.)

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gaymerasmus · 3 years ago

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All right buckle in you poor bastards because I'm here to help you with a thing because nobody told me jack Shite about getting your teeth pulled and what to expect. I'm also gonna sprinkle in some tips for pain management for you <3

(Okay. First off, I'm pretty much going off of my own experience here but if you have any input or advice please do share!! We are here to help each other.)

Let's talk anesthesia. I had a very good time with it (stoner) and sometimes secretly wished they would have kept me doped up a bit longer. If you're getting anesthesia then you'll probably have to get through the injection part first. This was pretty painful for me with the addition that I'm scared of needles.

Here's what to expect:

It will take longer than you think is necessary unless you've been blessed with someone who's really good at it

It will hurt. There is no way around this. However it is definitely more comparable to things that don't really hurt all that bad.

You might feel like doing some "self medicating" (drinking/drug use etc) to help calm your nerves before the surgery, don't do this. Anesthesia puts you in a bit of a trance but not always a sleep-like one. I was completely awake for the entire thing but I don't remember it. Any alcohol consumption or drug use might actually have the opposite effect and cause you to freak a little or make it seem more scary. My recommendation is to stop at least 2-3 days before the surgery.

Same thing goes for people with traumatic experiences, ptsd, anxiety and anything related. Ease yourself into the situation and remind yourself (even better if you have others to help with this) that you are safe. It will 100% help and I promise it's true and you'll be ok.

When you wake up you'll be really loopy and might say or do something stupid, but you'll also be really tired and hungry and thirsty and won't be in a silly goofy mood.

When the anesthesia fully wears off it can hurt like you're dying. You can bypass this by taking your pain meds when you're given the OK to drink things (usually 1 hour post surgery). Don't be like me and fall asleep and wake up 4. Hours. After the surgery with no medicine in the house and no pain relief. Ouch

Now let's talk swelling. My cheeks were swollen for a good 3-4 days after the surgery. Here's what you should know:

It will last anywhere from 3-5 days depending on the number of teeth you had pulled and how you take care of yourself.

It is nothing to be embarrassed about. You look like a cute chipmunk.

To help with swelling use an ice pack or something similar gently on your face. A good rule of thumb is 20 minutes on, 20 minutes off. (Only do this for the first 2-3 days, then slowly introduce heat instead)

Try to avoid putting any pressure on the sides of your face as this could lead to irritation and further pain

You may struggle to open your mouth at first, this is normal and will go away within a few days.

As your cheeks get less swollen you may notice a bruise has taken it's place. That is also completely normal and will disappear, and is nothing to be embarrassed about.

I think just those two things there pretty much summarize the first 2 or 3 days post removal. Expect a lot of sitting and napping.

Now moving on to more annoying and painful topics. Let's talk about eating/drinking. Here's what to expect/ do's and dont's:

When it comes to drinking, stick to water and Gatorade (or something similar). You're going to be very dehydrated at first, so it's important to make sure you're getting your fluids.

Avoid drinking anything with too extreme of a temperature (hot/iced coffee, hot tea, etc. For the first few days. I highly recommend certain teas once you hit that 4 day mark after your surgery.)

Avoid acidic drinks, carbonated drinks, and alcohol.

There are some fruits you won't be able to eat because they're too acidic for your mouth.

No. Solid. Food. Please. Its what gave me dry socket and it's extremely painful and sensitive and I don't want that for you.

Opt for very soft foods or switch to a liquid diet. Things like mashed potatoes, apple sauce, pudding, etc are lifesavers.

Avoid spicy or heavily seasoned foods. I know it's gross and tastes like a bunch of nothing but it will irritate the wound. (However, I've found that a tiny bit of garlic can actually provide soothing benefits to your extractions and offer some pain relief.)

You will want solid food so bad. So. Bad. We must stay focused brothers.

I struggle a lot with this one because many foods that I can't have are a large part of my diet. That being said, it will get easier and easier to make the right choice when it comes to it.

Next is probably the most painful thing I've ever been through. I know I joke a lot but this literally isn't funny. I was like. In tears for 2 days because of this. Let's talk dry socket. Here's what may or may not happen:

Dry socket is a mother sexy time haver and can bestow itself upon you even if you do everything right. It literally just depends on the person and there's a few thing you can do to prevent it but don't be surprised if you get it.

Let's assume you did get it. At first you might deny having it for the sake of not thinking about having it. I did it too and I can recommend not doing this.

Drinking tea is a godsend. I highly recommend chamomile, dandelion root, or any anti inflammatory tea. Make sure it's hot tea too so you can hold the steam up to your face. I did this for a bit and couldn't feel anything for like. A good 10 minutes.

I've heard mixed results on this one (imo it just makes me want to clench my teeth which is a problem all on its own) but you can use the tea bags as gauze if your dealing with persistent pain. Just make sure there isn't any parts of the bag or ingredients in the bag that are rough or scratchy.

When it gets too painful to bear (for me this was right when I laid down at night and right when I woke up in the morning) get yourself some numbing gel. Don't be fooled by fancy packaging or anything, I've found that the cheap version does the same job. It will hurt extremely bad for a good 10 seconds, but then it will be nothing/a tingly sensation for the next 1-3 hours. (I don't recommend making this a habit if possible, you can overdose on the medication put in numbing gels if you're not careful.)

The pain might drain your mentality a bit and make it easy to panic about the pain. You might get overstimulated by it at some points. The best trick (for me) is to remain as calm as you can.

Crying will make it hurt worse but no judgement if a few tears slip.

If you can, contact your dentist if you think you have dry socket. I had to wait all weekend and a day in change to see him, and he fixed the issue in a few painless minutes. I'm currently laying here typing this and not feeling a thing. It's worth it.

Take. Your. Antibiotics. It will help prevent dry socket and other infections.

I think that's pretty much it that has its own Category, heres some misc stuff and other pain management tips:

The reason it'll probably hurt more right when you lay down to sleep is because of the blood rush your head gets as the body levels. If you can, keep your head elevated. It will make sleeping a far simpler battle.

Dry socket can cause insomnia, so be careful about your health. Insomnia leads to a plethora of other issues if ignored.

People using birth control and people who have had a tooth extraction before are more prone to dry socket.

Avoid using earbuds if you can, it can irritate the wound and cause headaches from hell.

Your dentist might decide to use a stitching technique that involves wrapping a bit of thread around your teeth. Don't be alarmed, it's supposed to be there. It might bother you for a few days but it comes out eventually on its own or removed by the dentist.

If you get frequent headaches from this like I did, try to stay in dark or shaded areas and make sure to get some quiet.

Stay away from tooth brushing for the first 2-3 days. Your mouth will be hurting and you don't want to irritate it. Instead, try a warm water rinse. It soothes pain and drains out anything stuck in your mouth.

Start brushing your teeth without toothpaste. Get used to the amount of gentleness you need and go slow. When you're ready, use a gentle toothpaste with no strong flavors.

Salt water rinses also help some, but they can also cause headaches.

Don't spit!!!! Spitting can disrupt the blood clot and the healing process. Instead, gently tilt your head side to side, lean over the sink, and open your mouth.

Other facial expressions to avoid for a bit include kissing faces, sucking on a straw, slurping, grinning too hard, and clenching your teeth.

I think that's everything!! Thanks for the read and good luck if you're getting a tooth pulled soon.

#wisdom teeth #tooth extraction #dry socket #coping #self care #self help #advice

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unholyhelbig · 2 years ago

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Ronancetober Day #4: Horror Movie AU

[A/N: Less of a Horror Movie Au and more of a Twilight Zone episode that I watched when I was way too young]

Read on Ao3

Summary: Nancy drives back to Hawkins during a stormy summer night. She encounters a strange hitchhiker in a prom dress.

There were three general rules that Nancy Wheeler kept while traveling the 14 hours from Emerson to Hawkins Indiana. Rule one: keep a loaded gun in her glovebox for emergencies only. Rule Two: if you get tired, take breaks, fatigue is not an excuse for dead. Rule Three: never, never, pick up hitchhikers.

It was a steady drive on a single highway that she would split straight down the middle. Seven hours in the morning, a quick stop for lunch, and then seven hours into the night. She had gotten a book on tape of the Grapes of Wrath, had loaded up on orange Gatorade, and had hit the road before the sun even rose about the horizon.

Nancy spent every summer in Hawkins. She would pack up her car with the two totes of clothes and books she had accumulated in her dorm over the school year, and leave the rest for the RAs to pick through. She’d drive and resume her summer internship at the Hawkins post. Schooling had given her claim to something other than errand girl.

It was her second summer making the trip, the air was clear and warm. She had stopped for lunch at a local diner and devoured the burger that the waitress had recommended being the best. Seven hours had flown by and the last seven proved to be a difficult stretch.

Ohio stretched endlessly. There were fields of yellow crop and swaying corn, large oak trees that stretched on either side of the backroads. Dark gray clouds bricked the air and heavy rain forced Nancy to crank her windows up by the time that night fell.

When she stopped to fill up her tank at a Sinclair right on the edge of Van Wert, she called her mother from a payphone on the side of the building. Karen begged her to get a hotel in town, to ride out the weather and get some rest before continuing on her way.

“Mom, I’ll be fine.” She ran her fingers over the ribbed metal chord “I just want to be there. I want to see you and Holly, and Mike.”

Karen understood. There was an itch for Nancy to return home at the back of all of their minds. She had fought hard to get away from the small town of Hawkins, but at the end of the day, it was home and she could get bouts of sickness for it.

She hung up after a rushed ‘I love you' and pulled back out onto the highway. The windshield wipers on her car had been replaced by a senior named Joel Davies who had an infatuation with her. She could see well through the sheets of violent rain. Corn fields surrounded her on either side, slowly turning to wheat and then back to corn.

Nancy slammed on her brakes when the figure stepped in front of her car. The rubber screeched against the wet asphalt, slipping from the sudden stop. Nancy struggled to gain control of the car, ending up in the grassy embankment with her breath rapid and hands clenched around the steering wheel.

Her heart was in her throat faster than her fingers could find the loaded pistol in the glove box. She palmed it regardless. She had angled the car into the embankment in a way that her yellow headlights illuminated the fat drops of rain, the smoke from her tailpipe in the suddenly cold weather.

It was a girl. She had gotten a glimpse of royal blue fabric and what she thought was mud, though it could easily be mistaken for blood. She was standing in the strong color, breath misting in front of her lips white with the weather.

Nancy must be imagining this, a girl in a prom dress. A prom dress of all things, hailing her down in the middle of an Ohio road. She was stunning, Nancy clocked that pretty quickly. There was a smattering of freckles across her features and the coolest blue eyes that she had ever seen.

Despite her better judgment, Nancy Wheeler got out of the car.

She gasped as the water came down hard and fast against her shirt, soaking her to the bone in a matter of seconds. The girl was barefoot, holding a pair of heels in one hand and a useless white wrap in the other.

“Do you need help?” Nancy called over the wind.

“Just a ride.”

Nancy nodded and hoped the girl saw her through the water. She did she walked around the side of the car in time for Nancy to unlock the door and close her back into the warmth. She wasn’t sure if the car could handle the heat after such a long drive, but she turned it on anyway.

The stranger smelled of nature, sharp with clove cigarettes mixed with the dampness of the air around them. She was deathly pale, entirely too quiet for her own good. Nancy felt the gun as she stealthily slid it into the hull of her boot.

“Thank you for stopping.”

She shivered into herself, teeth chattering. Nancy’s instincts took hold of her in that moment. Her chest ached for the girl dripping rainwater into her passenger seat. She reached into the backseat and grabbed the closest coat: a red bomber jacket that was lined with wool, complete with brass buttons. It hadn’t been worn since her freshman year in high school.

The girl took it and draped it around her shoulders. She said again, “Thank you.”

“Where are you heading?”

It seemed like the next natural line of questioning. She had seen her dad pick up one or two hitchhikers on the interstate before Karen forbade him from ever doing so again. While there was no inherent fear of the stranger, there was a sadness that radiated from her in waves. Nancy wanted to cure it. Get her warm and a meal to eat and out of the torn prom dress.

The girls’ eyes lit up. “There’s a diner sixty miles up the road. I can use a phone there.”

“Okay,”

She didn't want to pry. Was this time of year for proms? She never attended her junior prom despite the way that Steve pried and eventually she did give in and go to the dance held her senior year, but it had been a blur of terrible punch and flashy music and men who had layered on too much aftershave. The times could line up, really, they could.

Nancy repeated that to herself as she pulled carefully onto the street and kept driving forward as if nothing had happened. If there wasn’t a girl in her passenger seat at this very moment she would have chalked it up to exhaustion.

“Are you warm enough?” She asked, voice quiet.

The girl pulled Nancy’s coat closer to her bare shoulders. “I am.”

“I’m Nancy.”

“I’m Robin.”

“Nice to meet you, Robin.” She had long ago abandoned her attempt to focus on the audiotape she brought along. Instead, she wanted to learn about the stranger, still respecting invisible boundaries. “Come here often?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were hitting on me.”

Nancy’s cheeks instantly flushed, and she let out an awkward laugh. “No, no. I mean, you’re very beautiful. I just can’t say I’ve ever seen a woman in a prom dress on the side of the road. It’s a first.”

“There’s a first for everything” She was smiling, no malice in her words. “My date was an absolute douche and ditched me on the side of the road on the way to prom. Can you believe that? On the way.”

“How long have you been walking?”

“I… don’t know.” She shook her head as if to clear the fog “A long time, I think.”

Nancy gritted her teeth in anger that she felt was entirely irrational on her part. It was soon replaced by a sadness unimaginable. Steve may have had some growing to do when they began their relationship, but he would never do this, would never shove her out of the car in the middle of nowhere, knees dripping with blood, fingernails caked in dirt.

Ohio, the few times she had driven through it, was desolate. She always figured that what scattered towns lay within were hidden by trees and country roads. She saw the occasional gas station, a farm here and there. It was downright cruel to leave a girl like this, one so captivating, out here in a storm.

She chuckled, a sweet sound “You don’t have to feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t. I feel bad for whatever asshole dropped you off on the side of the road.”

The girls’ pale cheeks heated the same way Nancy’s had. Something in her pushed the words from the deepest part of her mind. What did she have to lose? She would take Robin to the diner, would test the waters to feelings she had been pushing aside for a long time. She would pay for their meal and give Robin a night better than the one she was promised in the first place.

Curiosity tugged at her. Nancy wanted to learn everything about Robin. Where was she going to college? What was she majoring in? How did she meet this guy who had been so cruel and unforgiving?

None of these questions were answered. She saw the neon blue light of the diner wash against the wet streets. It stretched onto the edges of the wheat fields surrounding the out-of-place restaurant.

Nancy slowed down and pulled into the lot. There were two cars parked in front of the stretching windows. She could see a waitress flitting around behind the counter. A man sat hunched at the end of the counter despite the darkness of the night.

“Thank you,” Robin said again, this time a soft emotional murmur.

Nancy shut off the engine and looked at Robin. The neon blue bathed her in a gorgeous color of new beginnings. Nancy fought the unriddled urge to tuck the damp piece of hair behind Robin’s ear.

Robin leaned forward in the small damp space of the car. She placed a tender, grateful kiss on Nancy’s cheek. It grazed the corner of her lip. Her touch was cold, the sensation shooting to the base of her spine like a broken electrical wire.

“Of all the people who have ever stopped for me, you are by far the kindest.”

Nancy’s eyes snapped open, and she was left alone in the front seat of the station wagon. The seat was stained from rainwater and mud, the washed lilac scent that Robin carried lingered cruelly. But Robin herself, and the red suede jacket that was draped over her shoulders, had vanished.

She was shaken up, fear coursing through her veins as she nearly tumbled from the side of the car. Damned, the rain and the puddle that soaked the cuffs of her jeans. It was balmy, the air clinging to the back of her throat, her skin like a second life not shed.

Nancy had nearly wrecked for this girl, and had driven a solid sixty miles with her in the passenger seat of her car. There was no plausible way that Robin could have exited quickly and quietly. She wasn’t in the diner; Nancy could see straight through the windows.

After gulping in three large breaths, she entered the diner. The air conditioner was blasting. It dried the rain against her collar and made it feel tight. Her fingers were shaking. The waitress behind the counter had a calming nature about her. She placed a laminated menu in front of Nancy, who ended up ordering a warm cup of whatever tea they had to calm her nerves.

“Darling,” The waitress said, pouring steaming water from the kettle. “What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Nancy didn’t’ wait for the tea to seep from the bag. Instead, she drank the slightly tinted yellow water quickly enough for her stomach to simmer. “I think I might have.”

#Ronancetober Day 4 #Ronancetober #Robin Buckley #Nancy Wheeler #Ronance #Ronance fanfiction #Stranger things #Stranger things fanfiction

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zoofitness · 3 years ago

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RACE REPORT: Cedar Hill Triathlon! 🌳

TL;DR: it was hot and hard, but I DID IT

First of all… I FREAKING DID IT!!! This was my first Olympic distance race in preparation for #ironmanwaco703 and given the conditions today, I absolutely CRUSHED IT!! I’m so unbelievably proud of myself for completing such a tough course with a horrifying high temperature, at a distance that was double my previous efforts. Let’s dig in!

To get the obvious out of the way…it was HOT. When I woke up at 4:15am, my phone already showed that it was 85*. Lovely. I had been anxiously watching the weather all week, but today held firm: a high of 107. I knew from the start this was gonna be one tough day.

THE SWIM: Oh my gosh, the swim! My first goal for the day was to just get through the swim. I really struggle with open water still, and while I can do 1500 in a pool I could only go about 300y in open water before having to stop and rest and get my breathing under control. So I was nervous to say the least. The water was also WARM - 80*! But I stuck to my plan and put on my wetsuit, even though my friend and I were the only two people wearing wetsuits for the event. I nearly took it off, but I could practically hear another friend yelling at me from Fort Worth to race what I practiced, especially since my swim on Friday went sooo much better than the one Thursday. And I’m SO glad I kept it on! The race was delayed by an hour due to complications with road closures, and the wind had started to pick up. I started out on the swim, and felt good to start…until I turned and seemed to be making zero progress towards the far buoy. I kept on trying to swim, waves were crashing into me, and I had the thought of oh god, I’m being pulled to shore!

Turns out, the buoy was floating away from us due to the wind! Luckily a sprint athlete told me to turn and go to the next one; at that point I had already hit 500y. And that’s when it got REALLY tough - now waves were cresting over me, causing me to get really disoriented and have such a hard time fighting through. I definitely NEVER want to swim in an ocean after that! And it was mass chaos in the lake - people were DNFing left and right, I heard a lifeguard blow a whistle for help at one point, but I just kept on swimming. I actually heard that 10% of the athletes were pulled from the swim! I finally finished the turn to head back to the dock…but I still had one lap to go. And I had already hit 1000y! Thankfully the second half was much easier and I got into a good rhythm and got it done with 500 extra yards. Phew! I was so happy to make it out of the water!! I feel so incredibly accomplished and proud!! For fun, check out my gps of the swim - certainly is an interesting shape 😂

THE BIKE: Man they said there were hills, and they weren’t lying. A large hill right out of transition, and bonked pretty badly going up it. Ended up walking and feeling the brain fog, not good at all. But once at the top hopped back on my bike and off I went to begin the loops. A slow first half of the first loop, but I was trying really hard to focus on my nutrition to set me up for the run. Finally hit a nice downhill section and got to make up some time, and then at the last leg of the loop there was another large hill. I just didn’t have it in me, so walked my way up with some other athletes. It was HOT now. And I still had another loop! Similar to the first, I was slow the first half but made up time in the second. But right before I got to the big hill I dropped my bottle as I was getting it out of the cage! Luckily I had almost finished all my Gatorade at that point so I wasn’t too concerned, but was disappointed. Got to the last hill and began walking back up with a little trio - I think we may have been the last on the course. We were struggling to walk up with the heat, but then a wonderful volunteer drove up to us in a car and had water for us! AND he had grabbed my bottle that I dropped so I got it back!! Hooray!! Finished the bike strong and was ready to get off and get the run done. I’m really happy that I kept such a good schedule hydrating and getting my nutrition in!

THE RUN: one word: HOT. Like surface of the sun hot, felt like 104* hot, and I had to run 6 miles. But you know what? Even after a hard bike course my legs felt GREAT. When I started the run, I knew I was going to finish. I just had to take it nice and slow and try to thermoregulate as much as I could because my heart rate instantly spiked.

The volunteers are absolutely what saved the run course. They had additional aid stations with plenty of water and cold towels about every half mile or so, and I wouldn’t have made it as strongly as I did without them. There was one station that you hit 3 times in one loop of the run, and they had so much energy and were so helpful in dumping water all over me helping me to stay cool. By the second lap I had cooled my core down enough to run a little more than walk, and was feeling strong. I was able to finish with my head held high and still feeling great!!

This race was one heck of an experience, and without a doubt the hardest thing I have ever done. But I had SO MANY good things happen today, I wouldn’t change any of it! (Ok I’m kidding, less than 100* would be nice)

The tagline for Ironman triathlons is “anything is possible” and this race truly proved that phrase to be true. Anything is possible, and now I know I can do ANYTHING. Ironman Waco 70.3 here I come!!! 🏊🏻‍♀️ 🚴🏻‍♀️ 🏃🏻‍♀️

#my face #my workouts #triathlon training #ironman training #triathlete

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usafphantom2 · 11 months ago

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At 70,000 feet, there is no breathable oxygen, but that doesn’t mean pilots flying at that altitude can’t snack.

Tube foods allow U-2 pilots to nosh on everything from pizza and pasta to grandma’s apple pie while cruising at crazy high altitudes. The only caveat is that every morsel must fit through a 3/8-inch-thick straw that can be slurped through their highly pressurized helmets.

Also, SR 71 pilots and RSO’s used tube food .

The suits and helmets U-2 pilots wear in flight can’t be removed, which makes it impossible for them to eat using their hands or standard utensils. So the Army’s Combat Feeding Division devised a way to connect tiny tubes of food to straws in the helmets to feed these high flyers.

“The U-2 missions last up to 12 hours in duration and require a source of food. Each tube provides 150 to 300 calories,” Combat Feeding Division food technologist Dan Nattress told Military Times. “The aluminum tubes are designed to attach to a straw-like probe that fits through a small retractable receptacle on the helmet.”

The tube food program has been around since the 1950s, when the U-2 was first flown. And the suits worn by pilots were actually given to the first astronauts as well.

John Glenn took tube foods on his orbital mission although they are not typically used in space,” Nattress said.

Despite their diminutive size, the meals pack a punch, and aren’t anything like a smoothie. They have legitimate food texture.

“Originally all the tube foods were made into a fine paste or sauce,” Nattress said. “In the newer varieties we try to use as much texture as possible.

Today, the Combat Feeding division produces 19 varieties of tube foods, all with unique flavors and mouth-feels.

A pilot who is squirting the food directly from an opaque tube through a probe and into their mouth is missing out on some of those senses, leaving two for them to focus on.

“Texture and taste are huge,” he says. The key is to make sure there is a texture to the cuisine, with little particles that can fit through the probe.

SR-71 PILOT

I seldom ate anything on SR-71 missions, they were too short to worry about needing to eat, and I was too busy to think about eating. Always had some Gatorade on every sortie. On longer sorties (mostly U-2 missions) I enjoyed beef & gravy, sloppy Joe and occasionally applesauce. A few “savory meals” were just nasty and you soon learned which to avoid. Nearly all of the dessert variations were very good but mostly used those just prior to starting my landing approach on a long U-2 sortie. Used the sugar rush to get pumped for the most difficult part of the U-2 mission - the landing. Over the years there were many flavors introduced and experimented with - most were very good. A few bombed. This is from another SR 71 pilot. His first name is Stormy.

@Habubrats71 via X

#sr 71 blackbird #usaf

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fanficimagery · 4 years ago

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The Witch’s Companion

Imagine settling down in La Push and instantly hitting it off with a group of locals. You have an instant connection with Sam Uley and though you know exactly what the connection is, you find that you would rather have Sam tell you what it is. Only he has trouble finding a way and you find it rather amusing since you already know all about the supernatural realm. After all, you are a part of it.

Words: 6.3K Author’s Note: This is so bad, but I didn’t wanna trash it. I needed something to post. My apologies.

Since coming into your magic, you've always felt like something was missing. No matter how much you studied or how much progress you made in mastering your abilities, you always felt incomplete. You stayed home long enough to complete your high school education and then worked a few years to earn some cash before deciding to take a chance out in the real world on your own.

Fortunately for you, however, your family knew you'd be leaving the coven and they were more than prepared to send you on your way with funds they had saved up over the years themselves. It was a tearful goodbye, but as soon as you were on the road you felt it in every fiber of your being that you were making the right choice.

You drove for hours on end, not content enough to stop until the moon was high in the sky, and then found the least skeezy motel you could find to stay the night in. Then after paying for the night and putting a sigil of protection on your truck so no one could peek through the windows or break a window without setting off a blaring alarm, you showered and prepared for bed. But as you laid in bed, you tossed and turned as your brain wouldn't shut off. So instead of counting sheep, you got back up and dug out some of your supplies from the bag you kept close to you at all times.

As you sat on the floor with your legs crossed beneath you and a map spread out in front of you, you lit four white candles and placed one on each corner of the map. You took a white crystal on a chain and let it pool in your hand before closing your eyes, then holding the crystal against your chest. With nothing but good intentions and the hope of finding that missing part of you, you rubbed the crystal over your heart before grabbing the chain and letting the crystal hang over the map. And then with your eyes still closed, you twirled the crystal over the map before holding your hand still and letting spirits guide the crystal so you have an inkling of where to drive next.

Minutes passed and when you felt the chain still in your hand, you opened your eyes and found the tip of the crystal pointing towards the North-West portion of the map. So with somewhat of a destination in mind, you packed your belongings and was finally able to fall asleep.

Over the next few days you drove and drove, stopping for bathroom breaks, food and rest when necessary. When you hit the west coast and then started driving north, you were skeptical about where the crystal had really been pointing. But then you get to Forks, Washington and something just feels different. It doesn't feel right, but it's damn near close and you decide to drive around some more.

It isn't until you drive onto the reservation in La Push that it feels like you can properly breathe for the first time ever and you nearly cry tears of relief. But before you can start making plans of settling down, you know there are some things that must be addressed. Because growing up in a coven and learning of every supernatural creature you could, you know La Push is home to the legends of spirit warriors. And behind every legend is truth. So in order to be on good terms with the locals and the elders of the tribe, you know you must ask permission to stay on their lands.

The elders, surprisingly, needed no convincing. They were wary of a witch's presence at first, but after explaining everything to them they seemed to perk up with interest. More than a couple of the elders had twinkling eyes when you spoke of feeling as if a part of you was missing and that you only felt at complete ease once you crossed their borders. They even gave you a few suggestions on available houses in the area and you took your leave after asking them to keep your heritage a secret. You wanted to meet people on your own time and not have anyone seek you out because of what you could do. They completely understood and wished you well.

So a couple weeks later, here you are staring up at your very own two bedroom house. You had some cash put away for this exact occasion, but really it was the elders of La Push who were such a tremendous help in helping you purchase the place. The house itself was practically surrounded by trees and far enough away from any neighbors which granted you all the privacy you needed. So in other words, it was perfect.

You still need furniture and appliances to fill the house, so you've given yourself a time limit of about a week to get everything you need because that's as long as you're willing to stay in a small motel down in Forks. You've already ordered a basic refrigerator and stove, and they're to be delivered in a couple days time. You're still on the lookout for beds and couches, but nothing's caught your eye, so for now you've come to the house prepared with cleaning supplies.

The inside of the house is in pretty great condition, the only thing you really have to do is give it a good dusting, wipe down, and mopping. So after opening up all the windows, you walked around the house with a duster on an extendable arm made sure to dust every corner, nook and cranny of the room. You Windex every glass surface you can before sweeping the floors and then fill up a mop bucket to get started on the floors.

Afterwards, as the floors finish drying, you sit on the porch with a sandwich and Gatorade you had packed into a small ice chest. When you're a little more halfway through, two trucks rumble down the path to your house and you set aside your food in order to stand up and greet them.

Tribal Elder Harry Clearwater is easily recognizable, as is his beautiful wife Sue who is sitting in the passenger seat across from him. The two boys in the truck behind them, however, are new.

Stepping off the porch and meeting your guests halfway, you greet them all with a smile. Sue is the only one to receive a hug whereas Harry offers a handshake. "Hello, Harry. What brings you down here?"

The older man chuckles. "Just wanted to see how you were settling in and introduce you to a few of the young ones."

You finally meet the gazes of the boys behind Harry, taking note of the tribal tattoos on their upper biceps that they're showing off thanks to their sleeveless shirts. Both are wearing cargo shirts and have bare feet which you hardly bat an eye at. "Hello." You wave at them, smiling softly.

"Hey," the slightly shorter of the two smirks, leaning forward and offering his hand, "I'm Paul."

As you grasp his hand, his warmth sends shivers down your spine. "Y/N. It's nice to meet you."

Paul shakes your hand a little longer than normal and you find yourself fighting back a laugh. "Paul, would you let her go? She's clearly not interested." His friend clamps a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back briefly before thrusting his own hand forward. "I'm Jared."

"Hi."

After greeting the two boys, you give a very amused Harry and Sue your attention once more. "So thanks for checking in. I'm just cleaning out the house right now. Getting it ready for deliveries."

"Oh?" Sue perks up. "What did you find?"

"Just a refrigerator and stove for now," you say with a small shrug and sheepish laugh. "I rather have the cabinets and refrigerator stocked with food rather than worry about comfortable bedding. If push comes to shove, I'll happily camp out on an air mattress while I find a decent bed."

Harry chuckles. "I figured you'd be having trouble finding some decent furniture, so I went ahead and went through our storage. Come on," he gestures for you to follow. "Come take a look."

"What?" You stare, wide-eyed, and Sue chuckles before nudging you to follow. You do, with the boys chuckling at your surprise, and you find a wooden bed frame laying in the bed of Harry's truck.

"It's a bit old," Harry then admits, "but it's still very sturdy. It was wasting away in our storage, so I figured it could go to a good home."

"Are- are you sure?"

"Of course," Sue assures you. "We also have a couch and a recliner if you're interested. They're still in really good condition."

"Well yeah! If you say it's in good condition and are willing to get rid of them, I'll happily take them off your hands."

"Excellent. Boys!" Harry catches Jared and Paul's attention. "Go back to my house and have Leah show you to the storage. She'll know what couch and recliner we want to get rid of."

"You got it, Harry."

Jared nods at Harry to let him know he's on it and Paul spares you one last lingering leer which prompts you to laugh and shake your head at him. Then turning to Sue, you ask, "So what do I owe you?"

But Sue is quick to wave you off. "Don't worry about it. Consider this as our house warming present. And," she's quick to cut you off when you open your mouth to retort, "if you feel like you owe us something, then all I ask is that you stop by the health clinic once you're truly settled in. You have a very healing nature about you and I'm sure you'd be a great help to our little community."

Catching her drift, you can't help but chuckle. "Sure thing, Sue."

With nothing else to be said, Harry and Sue help you unload the bed frame and carry it into your house and into the appropriate room. Fortunately Harry has a bag of tools in his truck and instructs you what screws go where since you were more capable of getting down on the floor than he was. Paul and Jared get back right before you finish putting together the frame, so Sue walks out to go instruct them to bring the furniture in.

Afterwards, as you and Harry join everyone in the living room, you smile kindly around at the occupants. "Boys, thanks for bringing the heavy stuff in."

"Don't even worry about it," Jared says. "If Sue and Harry are already this attached, I have a feeling you're good people."

Before Paul can comment, there's a bone chilling howl ripping through the air. It's not too close to the house, but it doesn't stop the boys from awkwardly chuckling afterwards and assuring you the wolves around the reservation are completely harmless. You keep a faint smile in place, nodding along, and force down your amusement at their hasty retreat.

Turning to Sue and Harry, you laugh. "They don't have a subtle bone in their body."

"No they do not," she muses.

A comfortable silence follows the three of you out onto the porch, watching as Paul and Jared drive away in a hurry. Seconds pass before Harry makes it clear they should get going too.

As you follow them to their truck, you say, "Thanks again for the furniture. If I head out now I can probably find a box spring and mattress, and actually sleep in my own house tonight."

Sue smiles. "I'm glad we could be of some help. If you need anything," she then reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small white card, "here's my number. Don't hesitate to call."

You take the card and glance at the number before pocketing it. "I won't. Thank you."

The married couple climb into the truck and as soon as they're settled and the engine rumbles to life, Harry leans out his window. "Don't take too long to let the boys in on your secret. I have a feeling you'll be seeing them more often than not now that two of them know where you live."

"How many are there?"

"Three as of right now," Harry says, "but we're keeping an eye on a few others."

"This pack keeps growing and the vampires will be too scared to step anywhere near La Push."

Harry chuckles. "That's fine by me."

With nothing else to be said and the Clearwater's wanting you to get everything you need before the stores shut down, they bid you farewell and take their leave. Then after making sure you shut all the windows to your house and lock up, you hop in your truck and drive to the city in hopes of getting a box spring and mattress to fit your new bed.

Over the next few days, you get settled in and you've never felt more at peace. Even your magic seems to meshing better than ever within you and your coven back home couldn't have been more happier for you.

You've kept your promise to Sue, mixing concoctions that were easily added into lotions for aching joints and grinding powered mixtures that could be added to water that acted as a mild pain reliever. The reservation's clinic was mostly used by the elderly and you were glad you could offer them relief for their aching bones.

You've also run into Paul and Jared a handful of times, mostly at the grocery store and once when you had gone to the beach for the day. They had been leaving when you were just getting there and Paul had introduced you to his new girlfriend, but the way he couldn't take his eyes off her let you know it was something so much more. Jared kept trying to introduce you to his other friend, but apparently you and this so-called Sam just kept missing each other.

And it isn't until one drizzly day that you finally meet him.

You sleep in a little later than usual, the overcast sky and drizzling rain keeping you in a sleepy state. Then when you feel like you've laid in long enough, you get up and take the warmest shower you can before dressing cozy and curling up on your couch. Nothing on TV seems to catch your attention, so you turn it off and head into your kitchen. You're not particularly hungry, but you find yourself wanting to make something. So opening up your pantry, you find that you have all the ingredients you need to bake to your heart's content.

With your hair twisted up into a bun and the sleeves of your sweater pushed up to your elbows, you're mixing together the second batch of muffins as the first batch cools next to a peach cobbler. You've been in the baking zone, listening to the distant rumbling thunder, that when there's knocking on your front door it startles you into letting loose a yelp.

There's a bark of laughter before you hear the door creaking open and Paul and Jared walk in, both shirtless and in cut-off jean shorts. A third walks in behind them, this one unfamiliar, but you keep your attention on the two you do know.

Huffing, you set aside the bowl and pick up a washcloth to clean off your hands as you walk around the kitchen counter. "If you catch a cold, I am not helping you. Only idiots would run around barefoot in this type of weather we're having right now."

"Oooh, those muffins free game?" Jared asks, completely ignoring your words and walking around you. "I'm starving."

"Do I smell peach cobbler?" Paul then wonders, doing the same as his friend.

"Hey!" The third individual barks, Paul and Jared freezing at his tone. "Manners."

You smirk as the boys shift nervously and then look towards the still unknown man. "Thank you. You, my well mannered friend, are more than welcome to the snacks. I'm Y/N, by the way."

As he meets your gaze, his small smile falters. His eyes seem to subtly widen, his expression goes lax, and there's an instant connection with this man- a sense of warmth and comfort rushing through you. He feels like.. like home.

You blink and then.. oh. You know exactly what this is and while a little part of you is nervous because you hadn't planned to tell anyone other than the tribal elders what you were, you're also kind of excited.

"Sam?" Paul wonders, he and Jared snickering.

The second you break eye contact with him, he seems to come back to himself. Clearing his throat, he nods at you. "Sam. I'm Sam Uley." He then glares at the boys before sheepishly glancing at you once more.

You flash him a small smile. "Nice to finally meet you Sam Uley. Jared doesn't shut up about you."

"Hey!" The muffled response causes you to look at the boy in question and you roll your eyes fondly when you see his cheeks puffed out with the remains of a muffin he'd eaten when you weren't paying attention.

"So what brings you boys over here?" You ask as you walk back into the kitchen, whipping Jared with a small towel and shooing him towards the table.

"Just wanted to see how you were dealing with our weather," Paul says. "Now can I please have some of this cobbler? It smells really good."

"Have you eaten lunch yet? All that sweet is going to ruin your appetite."

Jared snorts as he takes a seat at the table. "Nothing can ruin our appetites. Trust me."

Paul is still eyeing the cobbler so you sigh and wave him on. "Go ahead. I'm sure you can find the plates and utensils." Then looking towards Sam, you smile. "Would you like to take a seat? There are brown sugar muffins, chocolate chip muffins and peach cobbler if you're interested."

"I, uh, yeah." He grins at you. "I'd like that."

Sam, Paul and Jared take over your kitchen table and instead of being annoyed you can't help but feel a bit of fondness for them. You're well aware of what the connection you had with Sam was and you wonder how long it'll take him to come clean to you since it's obvious all three at your table are shifters- Sam obviously being the alpha.

But putting that off for now, you walk into your kitchen and place some muffins in a bowl to take to the table. Jared is all too happy to immediately start digging in and Paul looks absolutely blissed out as he shovels bite after bite of peach cobbler into his mouth. Sam shakes his head at the two of them, but you find it all rather amusing.

Taking a muffin for himself and eating at a leisurely pace, Sam asks, "So how do you know the boys?"

"Sue and Harry introduced us when they brought over my bed," you tell him. Grabbing a few bottled waters from the refrigerator, you walk them over to the table and take a seat yourself. "Between you and me, I think the only reason Harry introduced us was because I'm a female living by myself. He wants me to have people in my corner should something ever happen."

Sam glances between you and the boys, and seeing as you're not offended he allows himself to chuckle. "Yeah. That sounds like Harry. He's good people."

"Oh for sure," you muse. "I kind of have this sense about people. I can tell who's a good and who's a bad one."

"Oh really?" Paul looks up long enough to spot the waters and take one for himself. "What do you sense about us?"

Jared freezes, Sam tenses and Paul smirks as he takes a gulp of his water. You lean back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, and smirk. "Honestly? I get a sense you and Jared are going to be giant pains in my ass."

Jared laughs, but Paul continues to smugly hold your gaze. "And what about Sam?"

Your gaze slides over to Sam who looks equal parts ready to strangle Paul and wondering what your answer is going to be. Eyes twinkling, you say, "That's to be determined."

Now that you'd officially met Sam and he imprinted on you- though you weren't supposed to know that- it seemed like he was everywhere. You run into him at the grocery store, at the local health clinic, and at the beach. And then sometimes all three of them would show up on your porch to check up on you, but mostly to raid your kitchen.

Usually when you run into them you run into all three, so as you're sitting on the beach and just soaking in the peace, you're surprised to see Sam approaching all on his lonesome.

"This seat taken?" He asks, gesturing to the empty half of the blanket you're sitting on.

You grin up at him. "Do my eyes deceive me or are you actually wearing long sleeves and jeans?"

"Ha ha," he deadpans. Toeing off his boots, Sam steps onto your blanket and sits next to you. He grins at you before looking out to the restless ocean. "So what brings you out here on this cool afternoon?"

You shrug. "Nothing really. Just felt like listening to the waves. You?"

"Same. Had some free time so I figured I'd come out here to decompress. Spotting you was just a bonus."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Uley."

Sam chuckles as he softly nudges you with his shoulder. You smile back at him, only to then look back out at the ocean. There's a moment where you and Sam just bask in the stillness of conversation before he's nudging you once more. "So tell me something, Y/N. What brought you out here to La Push?"

"I don't know if I want to tell you," you jokingly admit. "You'll think it's lame."

"No I won't. Come on, tell me."

Glancing at Sam you know you're in trouble at the sight of his small smile and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. You keep his gaze, sigh with a fond roll of your eyes, and he chuckles knowing full well you've caved. "Have you ever felt like you didn't belong? That something was missing from your life and, even though you had a pretty good life, you knew there was something out in the world you were destined to find?"

"Not until recently," he replies quietly.

Sam's gaze darts all over your face before darting down to your lips and your heart skips a beat. "I, uh," you pause and awkwardly clear your throat, leaning sideways away from Sam for a moment to clear your head. "I didn't feel complete for a long time," you say. "So after finishing high school and working a few years to save up some cash, I packed all the things I couldn't live without and hopped into my truck. I drove in whatever direction felt right to me and it wasn't until I crossed into La Push territory that it felt like I could breathe properly. It was weird." Well not really now that you know why you were drawn to La Push, but you couldn't exactly tell him that. Not yet.

"That's not lame at all. That's- well I can kind of relate," he says. When you glance at Sam, his faint grin morphs into a smirk. "I'm glad you found what you were looking for here in La Push, Y/N. It seems everyone here has taken a shine to you."

"What can I say," you muse, batting your eyelashes at him, "I'm a very likable person." Sam's phone dings before he can retort and he offers you a sheepish smile as he pulls it out of his pocket. He reads whatever's on his screen and sighs, looking at you with an apology in his eyes. "Go. It's fine. We can always catch up another time. You do, after all, know where I live."

Sam nods and pulls his boots to himself, slipping them on his feet and lacing up. "Do you, uh, maybe want to grab something to eat sometime?"

His stammering and avoidance of your gaze makes you smile. You hum, drawing out your answer before saying, "Like one on one or a group thing?"

He shrugs. "More like a date thing."

"Sam Uley," you chuckle. "Asking me on a date and breaking hearts all across the Rez. Who would've guessed.." When he's finally brave enough to meet your gaze, you smile. "It's a date, Sam. Just let me know when and where."

A date with Sam consisted of dinner at an Italian restaurant in Port Angeles. You had figured it'd be as awkward as first dates normally were, but from the moment he picked you up to the moment he dropped you off at your front porch and warmly pressed a kiss to your cheek, it was as if you and Sam had been doing this for ages. The conversation had flowed easily with quiet laughter here and there, and then you went for a walk around Port Angeles before deciding to call it a night.

The boys, when they took notice of you greeting Sam with a kiss to the cheek, took great pleasure in teasing the two of you. You could tell Sam was wary about it upsetting you, but you merely withheld food from the boys and they were quick to cut it out.

Sam slowly started to show up more often on his own, the casual touches turning into lingering touches, and it wasn't long until those on the Rez realized Sam was no longer on the market. Which was something Sue Clearwater was clearly ecstatic for, but it also led her to constantly nag you into telling Sam your secret since he was clearly struggling with admitting his own.

You've just gotten home from the grocery store, unloading the groceries when Sam pulls up.

Pausing in hauling the bags inside, you wait for Sam. He hops out of his own truck, grinning when he catches sight of you. "Hey, handsome. What are you doing?"

"Missed you." He leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth and you pout when he pulls away. He chuckles and takes the bags from your arms, grabbing another three from the backseat. "You have a good day?"

"It was decent." You shut the door to your truck, walking side by side with Sam up to your front door. Unlocking it, you push it open and let Sam walk in first. "I visited with Sue for a bit at the clinic and took the patients some goodies. What about you?"

"Decent. Got started on a table and chairs this couple want for their kitchen. Made good progress on it without Jared bugging me and Paul."

You laugh at the slight annoyance in Sam's features when he talks about Jared bugging him, but you know deep down that Sam would do anything for both Jared and Paul. He was just lucky right now since Jared was in his last year of high school and he had school five days out of the week which left Sam and Paul enough time to work without being pestered.

With Sam helping you, all the groceries are put away within a couple of minutes. You sigh with exhaustion, but a smile stays on your face because of the company you have. Sam walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you in against his chest. You sigh again, this time in contentment, and wrap your arms around his waist.

"Wanna take a nap?"

"Oh god," you groan. "Yes please."

Sam chuckles as you drag him to the living room, the sofa big enough to comfortably nap on. You both kick your shoes off and you impatiently wait for Sam to lay down and get comfortable before you lay down in front of him. With your back against his chest and his arm wrapped securely around your waist so you don't fall off, you close your eyes and listen to Sam's breathing to lull you to sleep.

Minutes pass and then, "Y/N?"

"Hmm?"

"I, uh, I need to tell you something."

Your eyes fly open. Is this it? Is this when he tells me he's a shifter? "Okay.."

"But I can't tell you until after the bonfire which I'm hoping you'll attend with me tonight."

Oh. "A bonfire sounds nice," you admit. "But whatever you have to tell me isn't bad, is it? Because now I'm going to be worried about it for the rest of the day."

Sam's laughter rumbles from behind you. "Nah. You have nothing to worry about. Get some rest, sweetheart. We deserve it."

- - - - - - - - - -

You and Sam fall asleep longer than you had anticipated, and it takes Paul barging into your house and startling you awake to realize how much time has passed. You remain grumpy and half asleep the entire time Sam tells you about the appropriate clothing for the beach bonfire, which Paul finds absolutely hilarious, and he only shut ups about it when you threaten to make him walk back to the beach since he had apparently walked to your house.

When you get to the beach, Sam takes your hand in his and you smile at him before he leads you to where there's already a roaring fire dancing under the night sky. There's a small group gathered around, but the ones who stick out to you the most are the tribal elders who appear as if they're holding court. Sam sits you on a log close to the fire before asking if you want anything and at your furrowed brow he gestures to the table of food that's dwindling down by the minute.

As you tell Sam you only want a hot drink, he leaves you be and you watch as everyone mingles. From across the fire Harry gives you a nod in greeting and you nod back. Your eyes are drawn to Paul who is wrapped around his girlfriend and you can't help but smile at how smitten he is with her. Jared is tossing chips at some young boy, the two of them running around as another unknown female watches them with fond exasperation.

All too soon Sam is taking a seat next to you, thigh to thigh, as his left arm goes around your shoulders after handing you a steaming cup of hot chocolate. You smile at him before snuggling into his warmth and blowing on your drink. Then when everyone settles down and Harry starts talking, you realize he's telling the legends about the Quileute Spirit Warriors.

You've heard the legends about the spirit warriors and cold ones, but never in such great detail and you're absolutely enthralled.

Afterwards, after being introduced to several more people and Sam dropping you back off at home, he walks you up to the porch. His hands are tucked deep into his pockets and he sighs, and you can just tell something is on his mind.

Grinning, you grab him by his belt loops and pull him closer to you. "What's wrong? I could hear you thinking on the drive here."

"Nothing." He automatically shakes his head. You raise an eyebrow at him and he exhales quietly. "I just- I'm curious as to what you thought about the bonfire. Only certain people have the special privilege of attending and I-"

"I loved it." You're quick to assure him. 'And I'm honored I was able to sit in."

"You didn't think it was odd? People turning into giant wolves and cold ones draining people."

You shake your head, smiling fondly. "Sam, I love learning about other cultures and their legends. Honestly, I had an amazing time." His shoulders sag in relief and you chuckle. "So do you want to tell me what else is on your mind?"

He shakes his head. "Maybe another time." His hands reach up to cradle your face and he brings you in to press a kiss to your forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

As the weeks pass, your happiness with Sam starts to dwindle under the pressure of his secret. For some reason, coming out and telling you all that you heard at the bonfire was true was harder than he had imagined. Of course you could have told him your secret to ease him into telling you his, but you were holding back as well.

Sue and Harry have had enough, however, after Sam snaps at Paul and Jared and starts straining the bond between the three of them. So sitting outside of your house, you wait for Sam to show up. If he won't tell you he's alpha of the Quileute pack, then you'll tell him your own secret and see what happens then.

Sam shows up on time and as he exits his truck, you stand up and walk towards the edge of the porch. He smiles in greeting, but you can see the strain behind it and you sigh. Immediately you wrap your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his chest.

"Come inside with me. I need to show you something."

"Uh oh. Should I be worried?" He says.

"Not at all." You pull back from him, pecking his lips. "But I am worried about how you're going to take it."

Sam's small smile falters, but you don't have any reassuring words for him. Now that it's out in the open about you having a secret too, you can see why Sam held back. It's scary. But it's out there now and there's no way in hell you're going to back out. So grabbing hold of one of Sam's hands, you turn around to lead him inside.

You lead Sam into your bedroom and gesture for him to take a seat on one side of your bed while you sit across from him. With one leg hanging off the side of the bed and your other curled inward, you grab one of your pillows and strip the cover off of it. "Can you rip it open?"

Sam huffs. "What? You want me to rip apart your pillow?"

"Yeah. I just- the feathers," you mutter. "Trust me." He stares at you a moment longer before grabbing your pillow and ripping the top sheet layer of it. You grin and reach in, scooping out a handful of the white and gray feathers. "So, um, please don't hate me."

"Hate you? I can never hate you, Y/N."

"You say that now, but-" Heart pounding, you lay the feathers down down on the bed right in front of your leg. Your hands tremble, but you're quick to shake it out and take a breath. Your smile wobbles as you briefly meet Sam's gaze and then you hold your hands just above the feathers. Concentrating deeply on them, you slowly lift your hands and the feathers slowly follow. You hear Sam sharply inhale as the feathers levitate and then start to twirl in a circular motion. "So, um, I'm a witch," you admit. "And to make things easier for you, I already know the secret you've been struggling to tell me."

"H-How?"

Your hands drop and you finally meet Sam's astonished gaze. "My coven's grimoire. It's filled with all sorts of knowledge of every supernatural creature out there and, though the passage on the spirit warriors of the Quileute tribe wasn't as detailed as what Harry said around the bonfire, it was enough to clue me in on what you, Paul, and Jared were the second I laid eyes on you. Well that and the fact the tribal elders told me when I asked their permission to live on the Rez."

Sam huffs and then does the unexpected. He reaches across your gutted pillow and tugs on your arm until you're crawling over and onto his lap. He holds you tight, chuckling quietly, and shoves his face into the side of your neck. You hesitantly wrap your arms back around him, sighing in relief. "You really should have told me sooner. It's been killing me not telling you about us."

"Yeah, well it's going to get a whole lot easier." He pulls back then, staring at you warily. "I know about the imprint thing too."

Sam's eyes widen. "You do?"

"Yep. Witches don't necessarily have mates, but we do have a sense of things. Since I came into my magic, there had always been a part of me that was searching for something."

"Yeah. Yeah I remember you mentioning that," Sam says.

"Well that something was you." The confession makes you nervously shift in his lap. "Whatever it was, it led me here to La Push. And then I saw you and.. I don't know. You felt like comfort. And home. And I knew-"

Sam cuts you off, grasping your chin between his fingers and facing you towards him. His lips press against yours and it takes a moment for your mind to be brought up to speed as to what's going on. When it does, you gasp and Sam smiles against your lips.

"Don't laugh at me," you mumble. "You caught me off guard."

Sam chuckles, his smile wide and eyes crinkling at the corners. It's one of his more genuine smiles and it feels like this huge weight has been lifted off your chest. "So the alpha and his witch," he muses. "The boys are going to be in for a shock."

"I was thinking more along the lines of the witch and her companion, but the alpha and the witch works too." You lean in and press your lips to his, once, twice, and then one more time. "And can we hold off on telling the boys? I kind of want to shock them with the reveal."

"Sure thing, sweetheart. We'll go at your pace."

"My pace, huh? I like the sound of that."

#sam uley x reader #twilight imagine #sam uley imagine #sam uley #twilight

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