#my arms hurt from kayaking yesterday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amydancepants-peralta · 4 years ago

Note

hiiii!!! i’m coming to our queen of smut to make a request: i was watching yippee kayak last night and i had this vision of jake going home and ~~~~~”warming” amy up after the polar plunge... i don’t think anyone has written this version of a post 3.10 fic and i just think you would be the best one so if you feel inspired by this i would love to read it!! 💕💕

ok so I really loved this idea and it took me forever but here goes! rated NSFW for all of you playing at home, and can be found here if it’s easier ♥️

everything comes back to you

Jake’s eyes squeeze shut as he follows Amy’s descent into his couch below, ignoring the scratchy crumbs of yesterday’s breakfast and sliding his fingers into her hair, deepening the kiss he’d initiated only seconds earlier. Returning his heated embrace with an equal amount of fervour, Amy's nimble fingers ripple along the buttons of his flannel with the practised ease of someone who’d buttoned it only 15 hours earlier; impatiently shoving the fabric out of the way as it parts, and Jake lets out a sigh of satisfaction when it hits the floor with a soft thud.

It has been close to two hours since he and Charles had finished their debrief (and taken down Flamethrower Gina - or FlameGrrl, if her new twitter handle was anything to go by); and after finding a quiet Amy waiting for him at their desks, the couple had made a beeline for Jake’s apartment, the unspoken need for some Thank God You’re Alive sex crackling between them on the drive home.

Amy’s two jackets hadn’t lasted more than three steps inside Jake’s apartment, his own leather discarded a mere second later; and in their newly horizontal position things were moving along pretty well - save for the minor detail that whenever he closes his eyes, Jake cannot seem to get the image of a confessed murderer pointing his gun directly at him out of his mind.

None of this evening was playing out the way he’d imagined, kissing Amy goodbye earlier this morning from the comfort of her sofa when she left for an early start. His first Christmas with a Serious Girlfriend in forever, Jake had put a lot of time and effort into selecting just the right gifts; and his plan for a sneaky early unwrapping of a couple of presents (followed, hopefully, by the unwrapping of Amy) had been waylaid by a most inconvenient - but incredibly dangerous - hostage situation in the middle of a department store.

It was the stuff that only the best kind of Christmas movies are made of (even if he didn’t get to say the Cool Catchphrase), but now that he was home - now that they were home - Jake was beginning to realise just how close he’d come to losing it all.

Initiating another kiss, Jake closes his eyes even tighter - tight enough to watch the tiny stars as they float by - and even though the plan to just keep kissing Ames until the bad thoughts go away had seemed solid; he eventually has to come up for air, tucking his head into the juncture of her neck and sighing as the scent of his girlfriend numbs the sharp teeth of unwanted memories.

Amy’s voice is soft when she speaks, but he’d hear her in a hurricane, and the sound carries over tangled limbs before landing at their un-socked feet. “I didn’t feel it.”

It’s an odd statement - and definitely not something that one expects to hear during a pre-sex makeout - and it prompts Jake to glance downwards at their still very covered bottom halves, returning to respond with an eloquent - “Huh?”

Her head tips back ever so slightly, just enough for Jake’s eyes to lock onto hers, and the seriousness of her look cuts him to the quick. “My phone. I didn’t feel it … the vibrations from your texts. You know, through the jacket.” Her fingernails scrape the edge of his hairline, and she shakes her head in frustration. “So puffy. I couldn’t feel anything, including the cold, which I guess is the point, but … I didn’t feel it.”

Jake nods, feeling his lips purse up. There was definitely a point, between texts numbers four and seven, when he’d begun to question if Amy was ever going to answer. But he’d kept texting, based purely on the way she looked at him that very morning, ruffling his hair when he’d woken up and bidding him goodbye with the kind of kiss that made his heart thump long after she’d gone. He had hoped there would be a reason why, and the sincerity in her eyes now said it all.

A coolness remains in the wake of her hands as they shift away, voice growing more determined as she continues. “But, Jake … I need you to understand something.” She digs her elbows into the couch for leverage, waiting as Jake scoots backwards to accommodate and shuffling up to a seated position; their makeout session taking a temporary pause. “As soon as I realised, I came running.”

It’s a sorry without saying it, an apology for taking so long to respond to his barrage of texts, and the automatic response of it’s fine, babe bubbles up Jake’s throat. There’s still a part of him, the same part that once came to work with multiple injuries and pretended everything was fine, that wanted to brush this whole evening away and act like everything was normal. It was the Peralta way to compartmentalise and move on, but with his girlfriend of seven months (and partner for so much longer) sitting in front of him, suddenly Jake didn’t want to simply shrug it all away.

His mouth feels dry, and he knows his voice has gone soft, but he answers before he can’t. “I was really scared, Ames. For a moment there, I - ” there are too many options for the end of the sentence, and all the fears jumble out from that corner of his mind he’d been pushing them into all evening. His stomach twists, and he tries again. “I really thought ..”

Moving closer still, Amy’s knees knock against Jake’s as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him in for the kind of comforting hug he’d unknowingly craved. She whispers I was scared too, the reality of what could have been washing over them for a moment, and Jake realises that this moment right here on the couch was what he’d be needing all evening.

It isn’t until their makeout has begun again - albeit of a slightly softer, reassuring variety - that Amy nestles closer to Jake, sliding her hands underneath his shirt; and it’s the almost freezing temperature of her palms that pull him out of his kissing Amy stupor.

“Whoa! Ames, your hands really are on a whole other level of cold.”

(Truth be told, the first time he’d noticed, they were still on the sidewalk outside Goodwin’s; kissing way more than he thought they would with their colleagues and superior officers all within viewing distance. But he’d been a little distracted at the time, too caught up in the temporary high that came with the realisation that not only had he just lived through his very own Die Hard hostage experience - he, too, had a beautiful woman outside who was so glad he was okay, and honestly, those two things packed together really did make for a stellar - if short lived - moment of bliss.)

Pulling away, Amy inspects her palms as though checking for icicles before looking back at Jake. “I’m telling you babe, I really might have hypothermia.”

“Wait … you actually did the polar bear swim?”

“Ugh.” Resting back on her heels, Amy rolls her eyes in exasperation. “Not exactly, no. I tried! But … I just couldn’t go through with it. Holt and Rosa went in while I stayed on the beach like a chicken.” Shrugging her shoulders, she continues. “It wasn’t until I read all your messages and realised what was happening that …”

The cogs slowly begin to turn in Jake’s brain. “You had to …?”

“I ran into the ocean to get them.”

He blinks. “You. Amy Santiago; perpetual blanket stealer, and the only person who could land on the sun and still find it a little chilly, ran into the freezing Atlantic?”

She nods, her eyes wide and somber, and Jake’s heart squeezes in his chest. “I can’t believe you did that.”

Her hands move to either side of his face, the contrast in temperatures suddenly feeling like nothing at all; freshly armed with the knowledge that the woman in front of him had run into the very thing she hated, just for him. “I told you, Jake. As soon as I knew.” She leans in to press her lips against his, and Jake runs his hands along her wrists, giving Amy a contented smile when she pulls away. “Bonus points to you for knowing it’s the Atlantic, by the way.”

There are a thousand different responses running through Jake’s mind, all of them showing varying degrees of being the right answer for right now, but in the end the only thing that he manages to sputter out is a simple - “You’re amazing.”

(Short, yet most definitely true.)

“You were in danger, babe. Nothing else matters when it comes to that.”

A scarily familiar lump forms in Jake’s throat; the same one that had choked his voice up right before he’d confessed his feelings to his college girlfriend Camille - aka, the girl who broke up with him only a day later - and his stomach begins to twist incessantly.

Amy had dropped everything to find him - he, Jake Peralta, a man who’s clean washing pile sits dangerously close to his dirty washing pile (i.e. both on the floor), who’s teeth hold more cavities than a third grader hopped up on pixie sticks, who’s punching well above his weight every single time he gets to hold her in his arms. This intelligent, beautiful, courageous woman considered his safety to be more important than anything else, and the words I love you I love you I love you were growing dangerously close to his spilling out of his mouth.

It wasn’t a new thing, to know that he loved her. He practically vibrated it out of every pore of his body. (Had a dream once, that he’d painted it on a billboard over the expressway.) But it was one thing to know it - to know only a few days in that the two of them together was greater than anything he’d ever been a part of - and another thing altogether to actually say it out loud. He’s been here before, and knows all too well how much it hurts when it goes unreciprocated (the danger, he knows, of wearing your heart on your sleeve: but there, it shall remain). Rejection and heartache are not a new experience for Jake by a long shot - but just the thought of it coming from Amy was too frightening to contemplate.

The urge to escape the seriousness, the voice inside his head screaming deflect! deflect! overpowers the rest of Jake (it’s strength in it’s familiarity), and he leans in to capture Amy’s lips in a kiss far more passionate than any they’d shared this evening. Sighing against her mouth as she melts into his embrace, he uses the space between them as they part to mumble, “I think it’s about time I warmed you up then, hmm?”

“Thought you’d never offer,” Amy grins, that sly upturning of her lips that always seems to have a direct line to his penis; and Jake runs his hands along her back, holding her close to his chest as he lifts them both from the couch and deposits them onto his poorly made bed.

She slips off his undershirt before another moment is wasted, getting to work on the fly of his jeans immediately while Jake leans in for another heated kiss, picking up on her sudden need for more action. His hips flex against Amy’s familiar touch as her hand slides underneath, nudging the zipper of his jeans open with her palm and nursing his growing erection, his responding groan mixing amongst their tangling tongues.

Wrapping one arm around her back, Jake feels the cool bare skin beneath Amy’s shirt, splaying his fingers out as he pulls her closer. The blades of her shoulder graze against his fingertips as her hand tightens her grip around his cock, covering his length in the steady strokes that she knows turn him on, and truly - how she manages to make him feel this good every. single. time. has to be some kind of magic.

His brow furrows slightly as his hands wander to the edge of her waist, noticing what feels like an unusual texture there - but, also aware that he may not be in the most ‘sound mind and body’ state as long as Amy keeps pumping her wrist like that, Jake persists with his path of kisses along his girlfriend’s clavicle. It isn’t until his fingers return to her front, gripping the bottom of her shirt and sliding it upwards that he feels it again, and this time he pulls away from the love bite he had been nibbling into her neck. “Wait. Ames, is that …?”

Shifting his weight onto one side Jake lifts Amy’s shirt a little higher, letting out a halted laugh as a darker lycra fabric begins to appear. “Are you wearing a bathing suit?”

“Oh God!” Amy’s hands brush past Jake’s bare chest, flying up to cover her face as she lets out a groan, his cock already mourning her departure. “I kept thinking on the drive over that I needed to get changed before we got too distracted. But then you kissed me in the hallway, and it all just …” shaking her head, she separates her fingers and peeks out at Jake through the gaps. “I’m still in Polar Plunge mode. Ugh, this is probably the least sexiest - ” her protest dies in it’s tracks, courtesy of the gentle pressing of Jake’s fingers against her lips.

“Babe, no. You’re sexy all the time, it’s actually insane. You’d look sexy in a hessian sack, trust me.” He replaces his fingers with his lips as her hands fall away, pressing just that little bit harder before pulling away to catch her line of sight. “It just caught me by surprise, is all.”

She grins. “Like your girlfriend had turned into a seal?”

“A sexy seal,” he nods. “Hottest in all of New York.”

Her chest rumbles underneath him as she laughs - a loud, carefree laugh, easily one of his most favourite sounds - and Jake joins in, pressing one knee into the mattress as he rises slightly to slide Amy’s shirt away. She looks up at him with the brightest of eyes as their giggles begin to fade and Jake digs his teeth into his lower lip, the urge to tell her just how much he loves her almost too strong to ignore.

(He considers it for a moment, telling her in this apartment that was always an okay place to sleep but now with Amy feels like a home … but he’s watched enough romantic movies in his time to know that pre or post sex first-time declarations rarely held value - and if there’s anybody that deserves better than that, it’s Amy Santiago.)

Instead, Jake takes his time peeling away her swimwear, pausing to kiss each of Amy’s breasts as the fabric rolls to her midriff, shuffling down the mattress as her hips lift to allow both her pants and the suit to slide away and join his on the floor. Her legs slide against the sheets with a subtle impatience, a quiet sigh falling from her lips as she feels Jake’s hands skim along the outside of her thighs, and he takes his time forging a trail of kisses before reaching her centre.

He begins with a special kind of kiss, sucking gently on her clit with every press of his lips, following it up with a rogue lick every second or third go as Amy’s fingers dig into his hair. They tug as he dips lower, circling her entrance with the tip of his tongue, yanking in reprimand when he presses in then pulls away, all far too quickly for her liking.

Amy’s skin feels perfect; so comfortably bare against his own as Jake makes his way back up her body, keeping one hand wrapped around her thigh as he leans in for another kiss, waiting until her lips are well and truly occupied before sliding one - then, two - fingers inside where she’s wanting him the most. She writhes beneath him as he slowly works her up, stoking the flame just enough to push her closer to combustion, feeling the moisture build as her arousal grows with every kiss.

Letting out a shuddered breath, Amy raises her hips to meet Jake’s touch, her yearning obvious - pushing his fingers away and using her free hand to wrap her fingers around his erection, enticing him closer as she twists her wrist with practised ease. Ever willing to follow her lead, Jake shifts until the head of his cock is pressing against her centre, holding onto Amy’s gaze and entering slowly with one smooth stroke.

She sighs in satisfaction as he pushes further in, blinking slowly as their pelvises push up against each other, and for a moment Jake pauses, too caught up in the moment to do anything other than stare. Amy truly was everything he could have ever dreamed of - and by some amazing twist of fate, she’d chosen him over any other.

He thinks of the heart-shaped necklace he bought for her, the same one that sits underneath the glittering tree in her living room, and how he knew it belonged on her from the moment he saw it in the store window. How he’d debated on when to give it to her, knowing the connotation that came from an item of that shape, and how right it had felt to tuck it in with the other presents this morning before he’d left for work.

Because it was true - she could have his heart, in whatever form it came, and wear it around her neck for all the world to see (even if it does sound slightly Game of Thrones-ish). Jake Peralta was totally, completely, and unequivocally in love with Amy Santiago. And even if, right now, he is totally, completely and unequivocally terrified of saying it out loud, he needed her to know just how much a life without her seemed impossible.

He pulls out halfway, dipping his hip slightly as he thrusts back in, holding himself still as her walls pulse around him. Somewhere along the way, tonight had become less about having sex because it’s been A Day and he has a sexy girlfriend, and more about making love with the woman he’s beyond afraid to lose - and it felt kind of perfect. “You should know …” Jake swallows nervously, his mouth suddenly dry. “I need you to know, Ames. When he pointed the gun at me, there was only one thought running through my mind … and it was that I might not ever see you again.”

Smiling softly, Amy reaches out to rest a palm against Jake’s cheek, stroking the edge of his cheekbone with her thumb as her body shifts beneath him. Meeting him halfway for a kiss, her hair splays out on the pillow below as she rests back down, looking up at Jake with a thousand unspoken words lingering between them. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Jake. I can’t imagine ..” Shaking her head, she pulls him back down for another kiss, tightening her legs around his waist and lifting her pelvis to meet Jake’s thrusts as they begin to move together.

It’s safe to say that he and Amy have had a lot of sex since becoming Jake and Amy, and each time has been incredible - but there was something about tonight, and the way their bodies just slotted into each other like they’d finally found that perfect match, that made all of the nerves in Jake’s body push into Oh My God mode. Between the kisses, the wandering hands, and the mingling sighs and moans; it doesn’t take long before his thrusts have sped up, temporarily lost in anything other than focusing on how amazing it feels to be inside Amy while her fingernails dig into his butt.

She whispers his name, a warm breath against his shoulder as his face tucks into her neck, her legs beginning to shake as her orgasm climbs ever closer. But Jake wants to show Amy, even if he can’t quite say it yet, just how in love he is - how far he would go for her, how every part of who he is now comes back to being loved by her - and when her hands slide up to the edge of his shoulders in a definite sign that she was moving closer to climax, he slows his thrusts down, desperate to savour the moment.

He watches as Amy’s brow crinkles in protest, pushing her hips hard against his as her impending orgasm begins to slip away - but he knows that a little edging has never been unwelcome, and so he slows down a little more. Still, her fingernails sting against his skin as she lets a huff, instigating a steady rhythm for them as Jake hovers above, and he leans down to take the edge off by scraping his teeth along the edge of her neck just the way she likes.

He slips out of her a moment later, grinning at the groan of protest that falls unbidden from Amy’s mouth and leans in to plant a kiss against her lips before whispering ‘gotta keep you nice and warm, babe.’ Her neck cranes towards his as he pulls away, chasing more, and it’s a request Jake’s never going to deny so he returns to kiss her deeper, letting their tongues slide against each other for a little while as his hands wander further down.

Jake grips his own erection with a steady fist, rotating once or twice - just enough to keep him teetering on the edge - before sliding down the mattress, dotting kisses against Amy’s torso as he makes his intended path clear.

Her thighs feel smooth against Jake’s palms as he traces the curves of her legs, gently nudging one leg higher until it’s resting against his shoulder. Completely unable to resist, he sinks his teeth into her inner thigh, suckling just enough to know there’ll be a mark there tomorrow, soothing the ache with gentle kisses as Amy moans softly above him. The press of her hand against the back of his head silently encourages Jake to move closer to where she wants him, and after digging his fingers into her hips he is only too happy to oblige.

He takes a slow lick, pushing his tongue against her folds and sighing at the taste of them, the mixture of Amy and a little bit of his own pre-cum. (The switch from condoms to an implanted birth control was recent, and - dare he say - glorious.) He pushes forward for another sample, bending slightly so that the bridge of his nose presses against her clit, darting his tongue in and out of her centre as she writhes underneath his touch.

The feeling of her fingers digging into his hair, and the tightening of her upper thighs against his neck, was the stuff that any great sexual fantasy could ever be constructed of - made all the better by that sweet moment of realisation that this was his life now. He could do this to Amy now, and not be rudely interrupted by an alarm clock pulling him out of a dream. He could feel her this way, know her body better than she knew it herself, and Jake didn’t need to escape a hostage situation on Christmas Eve to know that he truly is the luckiest man alive.

Using his thumb to circle her clit, Jake increases the intensity of his movements as Amy thrashes underneath his touch, pushing her lower body off the mattress as it all become too much. She calls out a mixture of Jake and babe to his apartment ceiling, too overcome with the way her body was riding the wave of pleasure to care about volume, and Jake stays in position, taking all she has to offer as slowly her grip around his body loosens.

Panting in the comedown, it takes a moment or two before Amy can move properly, bending her elbows to raise herself up slightly and watch as Jake continues his gentle assault on her body. “Holy fuck, Jake - that was ..” her voice fades away, raising a hand and then dropping it just as quickly, flopping back down with a satisfied sigh. He grins, taking one final lick before casting a tender bite just to the right of her mound, leaving the evidence of her arousal against her skin as he nuzzles into the curve of her hip.

Grabbing an abandoned pillow, Jake rises and places it perpendicular to Amy’s pelvis; hovering over her still slightly shaking body and gently encouraging her to roll over, positioning the pillow until it lifts her hips in just the right way. He covers her back with his own body as his cock slides back into home, the change in angles eliciting a moan from both of their mouths, and Jake’s teeth sink gently into Amy’s shoulder blade as he begins to pump his hips in perfectly fluid strokes.

Amy’s left hand flails out to the mattress, perfectly manicured fingernails gripping onto Jake’s sheets as the two of them begin to move in sync - both of them immediately getting lost in the moment, in this position that was so much better than doggy style - because this way they could feel each other completely, could feel the nerves quivering underneath their skin as they raced closer towards the finish line.

The feeling of Amy climaxing around his tongue only minutes before had made Jake’s cock harder than ever, and the sensation of her warm body surrounding him now was pushing him closer to losing it completely. He mouths I love you in-between kisses and licks against her sweaty skin, reaching out to link their fingers together as he pushes harder, sliding his left hand between the pillow and thrumming a delicate pattern against Amy’s sensitive clit.

“You feel so good Ames, oh god I’m going to come soon … you’re so amazing.” His forehead presses between the middle of her shoulder blades, leaving the I want this forever part of his sentence unspoken as he lets out a stuttered moan.

Her legs stretch wider apart, searching for that perfect angle as she moans a stretched out yesss, and Jake really increases his pace when she pauses, pushing her abdomen into the pillow and meeting every thrust with a series of gasping breaths.

His name falls out of Amy’s mouth in a series of broken syllables as she climaxes, her entire body writhing and coaxing Jake’s own completion out of him as he buries his head into Amy’s neck and lets go completely, spilling inside her with an intensity he hasn’t felt in the longest time.

Wrapping his arms around Amy’s middle as their heavy breaths begin to slow down, Jake pulls out, twisting to curl his body around Amy’s and nuzzle into her side. Her still slightly shaking hand reaches back, caressing the base of his neck and humming in contentment, stretching her legs out against Jake’s as she moves. “Well, Peralta .. I’d say you definitely warmed me up.”

He grins against her skin, peppering kisses along her upper arm as he speaks. “You think it was worth running into the freezing water for?”

Amy’s hand falls away as she shuffles in his arms, twisting carefully within his embrace until they’re facing each other, pushing a stray lock of hair away from his forehead as she nods. “You’re worth doing anything for, Jake.” Her palm, now entirely warm, caresses his cheek as she pulls him in for a kiss, leaving another against the tip of his nose as they part. “You’re everything. I hope you know that.”

Jake nods, a noice dying in his throat as he chooses to respond with another kiss before he can ruin the moment. One day, some day soon, he would find a way to tell Amy how he felt about her - but for now, he needed to be here with the woman he loves, and feel her soft body in his arms as the exhaustion of the day finally begins to catch up with them.

It’s completely domestic and entirely perfect how they ready themselves for bed; Amy sliding on a pair of Jake’s boxers as she returns from the bathroom, slipping underneath the covers and gravitating towards his warmth without hesitation. There are whispered goodnights and gentle kisses, arms and legs intertwining as though they were always supposed to be, and a smile that refuses to leave Jake’s face as he begins to drift off to sleep.

Let the movies have their action-packed explosions and damsels in distress - his reality kicked it’s butt, any day of the week. There’s an incredibly intelligent, stupidly beautiful woman laying beside him - one that cares for him, worries about his safety, and occupies a little more of his heart with every passing day. And truly, that’s greater than anything that any blockbuster could possibly bring to the table.

(Although, if he ever needed to, he would totally jump off the roof of a building. But only to save the day, and clearly only for Amy.)

(Okay, maybe a little for him as well … but mainly, the Amy thing.)

#some peraltiago smut to celebrate their engagement airing anniversary because thatsa thing right?#anyways I hope you like this!#my writing #peraltiago smut #living vicariously through them? its more likely than you think #smut and fluff #b99 fic #b99 fanfic

74 notes · View notes

skullrock · 4 years ago

Text

the campers, chapter four - Steve x Reader

gif by @harringtown

chapter four: the routine

series summary: Steve gets a job as a camp counselor at Camp Know Where, intending on using the summer to discover himself. When things start to go wrong at camp, the only people that can help him are the Party, Hopper, and his mortal enemy - you. [Enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort]

chapter summary: The first week of camp is in full swing, bringing a few surprises with it.

warnings: swearin’!

word count: 4k (hehe)

a/n: this chapter encompasses the time span of a week so it’s a lil long and has some stuff happening but I hope you enjoy! things are spicin’ up but not like you’d expect! you can catch up on the series here! (ps Hop didn’t die in s4 because I said so <3)

===

Camp Know Where buzzes with excitement as the new campers file in on Monday. This is Steve’s first ever orientation - well, besides the one he just went through. He’s never been in a position like this, and he’s nervous as he checks people in. But it’s an easy job.

Until the Party walks in.

Steve stares at them all, mouth agape. El, Mike, Max, Lucas, Will - they’re all here, all carrying bags. Mike takes the lead, glaring tensely at Steve, as usual. Steve avoids him and looks at El. “Are you allowed to be here?”

She nods. “Hop’s letting me.”

Steve shakes his head and finds their names on the roster. He should have known, should have seen their names, but it’s actually a nice surprise. Well, except for Mike. But he’s happy everyone else is here.

“Where’s Dustin?” Lucas asks.

“Helping with move in.” Steve looks up. “Does he know you’re here?”

“It’s a surprise,” Will says, beaming.

“That’s nice,” Steve says slowly. “Well, don’t be dickheads, okay? Don’t make my job harder for me.”

El shakes her head, but Mike scoffs, “You’re a counselor?”

Steve gestures to his shirt. “Did you think I just disappeared for the past two weeks?”

“I hoped so.”

Max hits his arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

They all step past the table, and Steve puts his head in his hands. They’re gonna kill me, he thinks. A part of him is really happy they’re here, though. He’s not sure if that means he really is fond of them, or if he’s just happy that he can keep them safe here. He straightens and continues helping others check in, directing them to their cabins.

You come up a while later, suppressing a smile as you approach him. He looks flustered, perfected hair now a mess. His cheeks are red and his brows are furrowed as he tries to figure out how many more kids are left to come in.

“How’s it going?” you ask.

He looks up and smiles softly. “So great.”

“It’s not all this boring,” you explain. “Or stressful. It’ll be fun soon, I promise.”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “You better not be lying to me.”

“What if I am?”

He thinks for a moment. “I’ll flip your kayak.”

You laugh - a loud, ringing laugh. Steve smiles, pleased to have earned it from you. He wants your friendship to go smoothly, he wants you to like him. After yesterday’s confrontation and subsequent confession of enjoyment, he was starting to think maybe it was going to work out. Maybe you both weren’t going to dislike each other.

You straighten, still smiling down at him. “I’d like to see you try, Steve.” You knock twice on the table he’s at. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Steve nods, and you linger for just a second longer before heading off.

===

Steve continues to surprise you through the first week.

Though you still don’t get the appeal of him, you notice that many of the campers love going to see him for their intramurals. And he’s really good at teaching kids how to dodge a ball, or serve, or kayak. You’d never seen nerds so excited to interact with a jock, but they were, and it was actually heartwarming to see. You watched from the sidelines on your breaks as Steve helped teach kids tennis and soccer, his face red from the sun but beaming. He’d pause to wave at you before continuing, and you had a hard time prying yourself away from the scene. It was like it was in his nature to be a teacher, to care after others - and you’d never really seen that in a preppy jock before.

You also never expected a guy like Steve, known jerk, to be so good at interacting with kids.

You’re walking along the shore before dinner on Thursday when you hear shouts coming from the lake. You squint as you look out before seeing the source.

Steve had taught the kids a new game on the kayaks. They’d pass a ball with their paddles back and forth, and if they could get the ball into the seat of their opponent, they got a point. It was probably extremely dangerous, but the kids had fun, and so did he. He was soaked to the bone after every game, but his face hurt from laughing, and that was enough.

You watch from the shore as he and three other campers play, and you shake your head. Another counselor, Mia, comes up behind you and laughs. “He’s pretty popular, huh?”

“Always has been,” you say, turning to face her.

“He’s nice to watch, isn’t he?” She stands on her tiptoes to look past you. “I could watch that man’s arms for days.” You roll your eyes, and she frowns. “You don’t think so?”

You sigh. “He’s just… Steve. I don’t get the appeal.”

“You’re the only one, it seems,” she says, smiling again. “What is he, your villain origin story?”

It’s surprising how accurate the phrasing is. “It’s complicated.”

She shrugs. “You seem to get along well now, at least. Put in a good word for me, yeah?”

Your words catch in your throat as she walks away.

Part of you does like Steve. You find enjoyment in him - he’s goofy, he’s funny, he’s kind, and he’s smart. But he’s also the person who made you cry every summer. He’s your childhood bully - how could you enjoy his company? You confuse yourself with your own feelings. It’s like mental gymnastics, trying to hang on to your anger and resentment while equally wanting to like him.

You shake your thoughts out of your head and walk off the shore, away from Steve and his charm.

===

The week ends on Friday, leaving everyone exhausted. The Party kept Steve busy when he wasn’t leading intramurals, draining him fully of his energy. They were going to watch a movie with Suzie in one of the recreation rooms, leaving Steve by himself. He was worn and tired, sunburnt and hot. But he still jogged up to you when he sees you after dinner.

“Y/N!”

You whirl around to face him, a friendly smile crossing your face as he comes up.

“Hey,” he says. “Haven’t talked to you in a while.”

“Just since Monday.”

He shrugs. “Felt like a long time.”

There’s a silence before you clear your throat. “How was your week?”

A wide smile spreads over his face. “It was amazing!”

You let him gush, because you’re genuinely interested. He tells you about how easy it is for him to talk to the campers, how he created Kayak Ball (“still working on a better name”), and how he’d made some friends with other counselors. Which leads him to ask, “Are you going to the bonfire tonight?”

Shit.

The annual First Friday Bonfire was tonight, and you’d forgotten all about it. It was usually a very spiritual experience - people would write stories from their past, things that bother them, share it to the group, and then burn the paper in the flames. It was like a reawakening - fire is cleansing, after all. Just last year, you’d wrote about the Steve standing in front of you, hair disheveled and grinning dorkily. You burned the paper and went on with your life.

You never expected he’d be here. It’s a bit mind-boggling.

“Yeah,” you say. “Are you?”

“If you are,” he says, suddenly uncertain. “I don’t really know -”

“Steve, everyone here loves you. You’ve made friends.” You hope the bitterness you feel isn’t being translated into your tone. “You can hang out with these people. They like you.”

He nods, frowning. “I know. It’s just….” He sighs heavily. “I’ve never had people… like me before.”

Your stomach falls as you remember what he had told you about - how he hadn’t talked to Tommy since junior year. These were the first adults he had interacted with in years; he was bound to be nervous.

“I’ll be there.” You reach out and squeeze his shoulder. “But you don’t need me. Everyone here thinks you’re incredible.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the only thing the girl counselor cabin talks about.”

You see a blush creep up his cheeks. “Really?”

You don’t want to indulge him - you shouldn’t indulge him - but you do. “Every girl here has the hots for you. Maybe even some of the boys.”

Steve’s breath catches. “Every girl?”

You stare at him awkwardly. “Well - n… no, not every girl, but - enough.” You feel embarrassment creeping hotly through your veins. “Not - not me, if you’re thinking -”

“No, no,” he says, just as awkwardly as you. “No, I know that.” He smiles slightly. “You hate me.”

A smile turns the corners of your lips. “Yeah. I hate you.”

“Right.”

A long and awkward silence ensues before he says, “Yeah - okay. I will see you tonight.”

===

Hours later, you saunter over to the counselor bonfire, located right off the shore of the lake. It’s a beautiful, clear night - a slight breeze rustles the trees and the fire licks the stars. You’re a bit late, and Steve’s nervous that you won’t show up. Despite this, he is literally surrounded by the female counselors, who are eagerly asking him about himself.

“Jesus Christ,” you mumble as you approach.

“Look who it is!” Josh shouts out as you near. “Y/N, we’ve been waiting for you.”

“You shouldn’t have,” you say dryly, entering the circle.

Steve pats the log beside him - he had saved you a seat. With all these girls surrounding him, he saved you a seat. He had to tell them, “hey, don’t sit there, it’s reserved,” while he waited for you to show up. It’s a sweet gesture, one that sends your heart beating a little too fast for your liking. You sit beside him, giving a tight lipped smile.

The girls all smile at you, as if it’s all some type of game. And you know why they’re so amused - you had dramatically cut them off each night when Steve would be brought up. You’d throw a pillow over your head and shout at them to just shut up already. They thought you weren’t immune to his charms, just as they weren't. You roll your eyes at them.

Josh hands you a piece of paper and a pencil. “We’re doing the burning ceremony in a few.”

You take the paper and pencil from him gently, sitting it on your lap. Beside you, Steve is clutching his paper tightly to his chest. You bite the inside of your cheek as you think about what to write down - you’d already metaphorically burned Steve last year. You simply write down my past with no elaboration, intending to feed everyone a fake story and then throw it into the fire.

Steve himself didn’t need to think very long about what to write down. His biggest regret was the way he had treated people. A nauseous jerk tugs at his stomach when he thinks about high school, when he thinks about Nancy and Jonathan, when he thinks about the mask he always hid behind. He’s reminded of it every single day here with you - memories that he can’t quite touch but that he knows are there. The feeling of guilt when he looks at you, at the way your brows furrow and eyes narrow at him. How, even now, the pleasantries hide behind past aggression.

He doesn’t blame you.

And maybe, perhaps, burning a piece of paper will make him feel better. It’s not much, but it’s more than he’s ever done.

You listen as everyone goes around and tells their story. Some talk about relationships, or mental health. Each story is met with support from the circle, almost like group therapy. When all comments are said, the paper is thrown in, and everyone claps and cheers as it burns. You can sense that Steve is getting more and more nervous as he gets closer to talking, and you wonder what’s on his paper.

When it’s your turn, you stand up. “I wrote down my past.” You clear your throat. “Uh - I’m not proud of who I used to be. I used to be so quiet and shy. But I’m happier now, and louder, and I’m not afraid of the space that I take up.”

Steve’s eyes burn a hole into your side as you tell your story. He remembers the girl you’re talking about. He remembers how quiet you were, always minding your own business. And his chest hurts when he realizes that he’s probably why you were that way.

It takes a lot of strength for you to not side-eye him.

Everyone tells you that they’re proud and you throw the paper into the fire, sitting back down and crossing your hands over your lap. There’s a tenseness between you and Steve, but no one realizes the connection.

Steve stands, his hands shaking. It takes him a second to find his voice.

“Um. Well, when I was younger - not younger, just a few years ago - I was a jerk.”

You tense up, staring intently into the fire.

“I was such a dick. I made the worst decisions and the worst friends. I used to follow the crowd, because I thought that’s what I had to do to make them like me.” He licks his lips and takes a deep breath. “And I knew it was wrong - I knew it was - but that’s not an excuse. I let it go on for too long, and I hurt a lot of people. And that really kills me each day.”

You squeeze your hands together.

“I’m trying so hard to not be that person anymore, and I’m glad that I’m not. I got away from those people and I found better friends. Friends who believe in me and like me for me.” He clears his throat and sniffles. “But I’m so worried that I’ll turn back into that person again. I know there are people who will always know me as that person, and that sucks.” His eyes land on the top of your head. “But not as much as it sucks for them, I’m sure.

“I’m just ashamed,” he continues. “I wish I could change what I did. I wish I could make everyone believe that I’m not that guy anymore. I wish I wasn’t so scared. Most of all, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Everyone’s silent. Steve asks, “Do - do I throw it in now?”

“No,” Josh says. “Uh - wow. I don’t even know where to start.”

Steve feels the shame creeping into his chest again and bows his head.

“First of all, man, you’re allowed to change. You can change, and it’s obvious that you did,” Josh says.

Steve looks up, shocked at the validation.

“Yeah,” Nico, Steve’s roommate, interjects. “Dude, you’re one of the nicest, goofiest people I’ve ever met.”

A few yeahs echo around the circle.

“And it’s a good sign that you regret what you’ve done,” another girl, Emily, says. “That shows growth.”

You sit tensely, feeling cold in front of the fire. You know he’s talking about you. And you know he means what he’s saying.

You interject a few moments later. “What matters is that you’re trying to change. That’s the best you can do.”

Steve looks down at you, brows furrowing, but it feels like a weight has lifted off of him, freeing him. Feels like his collar bones aren’t cracking under pressure. His eyes are soft and filled with tears - he wasn’t expecting any of this.

You swallow hard, feeling your own tears swelling in your eyes. “And I think that - I think that it’s obvious you aren’t like who you were before.”

Never in your life did you think you’d say that, and never in Steve’s life did he think he’d hear it.

A few people agree, reinforcing that it’s okay for him to be ashamed, but it’s okay for him to grow, too. It’s a bit much for Steve, who makes a strong effort to not burst out into sobs. You can’t meet his eyes yet, but when he sits down after throwing the paper in, you reach for his hand and squeeze it. It’s more than the truce at the breakfast table - it’s an understanding. It’s forgiveness. It’s comfort. It’s friendship. You decide to truly, finally swallow your past, let the flames do their job, and embrace the new Steve.

Your hand leaves after just a second, but he understands the message, and you both smile the rest of the night.

===

It’s Sunday night now, and you’re doing rounds. It’s a little after one in the morning. You check on every cabin to make sure kids are asleep and safe, then decide to sneak a dip in the lake. It was a cool night, but the water was calling. You approach the pier but stop when you see another body already sitting on the edge, shoulders slumped.

You can tell despite the distance that it’s Steve, and you can tell that something’s wrong.

You make your footsteps loud so he can hear you coming, and you take a seat on the wood beside him. The lake is bright from the moon, and it illuminates on Steve’s sullen face. “You okay?”

He nods softly. “I just wanted to take a walk,” he says, but his voice cracks.

You frown. “Is that all?”

He doesn’t answer for a long time, but you can see that his cheeks and eyes are red and swollen. Finally, he whispers, “I had a nightmare.”

Steve had awoken in a sweat, kicking his sheets off of him and gasping for breath. It was another dream about the Upside Down, and it hit him unexpectedly and hard. Nico had stood over his bed, worry etched onto his face, asking Steve if he was okay. Steve brushed it off and said he needed to go on a walk. When he slipped outside, he cried, hugging himself as he walked to the pier. It was the brightest spot at camp, the only place he felt safe. He had learned the lake like the back of his hand in three week’s time, had found a home in it, and he went there to pull himself together.

A nightmare was a bit of an understatement - it had felt so real. He went weeks without one, happily, assuming the distance from Hawkins was helping. It was disheartening to have one here. Embarrassing, too. He wonders if Dustin or any of the kids had been having them.

The anguish on his face and cheeks is apparent and you whisper, “Hey,” taking his hand and squeezing it again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head numbly. He would like to talk about it, but knows he can’t. “Just a stupid dream.”

You frown. “It’s not stupid to feel scared.”

Steve sniffles. “I know.”

“But do you know?”

Steve stills, eyebrows knitting together again. “I… it’s hard to feel like it’s not stupid.”

You nod. “I know how you feel. Well, at least a bit.”

“Do you have nightmares?”

“No,” you whisper. Your thumb absentmindedly rubs over his. “But I have anxiety. And I know how it feels to think it’s stupid to feel that way.”

Steve nods. “I just kind of… push it down. I try not to bother people with it.”

“You’re not bothering people who love you for talking about it. Have you told Dustin?”

“Yeah, but… he’s got his own problems.”

You nod in understanding. After a few moments of silence, you say, “You can talk to me.”

He laughs solemnly. He wishes he could talk to someone about it. Someone outside of the people who were there, or outside of the shrinks that Doc Owens had recommended. Anyone with a new perspective. But he can’t, because the person he’d confide in would die, and he really doesn’t need that on his conscience. That’s not something you could burn in a fire and forget about.

“I’m serious,” you say. “I can help.”

Steve kicks his feet back and forth in the water for a few minutes. Then he looks over at you. “How do you stop being anxious?”

“You don’t,” you say, laughing. “It just gets easier to hide. But having friends helps, and loving yourself helps.”

“I don’t have either.”

You elbow his side gently. “You have friends, Steve. And I’ll be damned if you don’t like yourself by the time you leave here.”

He’s quiet again, then says, “It’s really hard for me to think of people as friends. It’s hard to think that people actually want to hang out with me. Tommy and Carol used me for money and an empty house.” He shrugs lazily. “The attention just feels so… superficial now.”

And it makes your heart ache, because maybe that’s why he won’t give in to the girls here. He thinks they don’t like him for him - they only like him for his looks. Even if he wants them to like him, if he wants someone to love, it’s hard to accept it. The realization ignites an odd anger in you; he doesn’t deserve to feel like this.

“Maybe,” you whisper. “But at least you’re aware of it, right?”

He nods and shrugs again. “I guess.”

More silence.

“Your speech on Friday…,” you say softly. “It meant a lot.”

“It didn’t have to -”

“But it did.”

He swallows and turns to face you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” you say, rubbing his thumb again. “I forgive you.” You smile. “For real this time.”

He smiles, too. “Apparently, since you can’t stop holding my hand.”

You retract it quickly, holding it to your chest. You didn’t realize how long you’d been holding it, and you blushed deeply. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“You sure?” he grins. “Because someone told me every girl here likes me.”

You kick water towards him and he laughs, kicking back. You’re happy to see the light back in his eyes.

“So Kayak Ball, huh?”

“It’s the next big thing.” He seems proud of it.

You hum. “So I’ve heard.” You splash water towards him again. “You gonna teach me?”

Steve laughs incredulously. “You want to learn?”

“Yeah,” you smile, shrugging. “Maybe I can stop by tomorrow on my break.”

He smiles widely. “You’re gonna get your ass kicked.”

You push up and reach out for his hand, pulling him up with you. “Let me walk you back to your cabin, okay?”

“You don’t have to -”

“I don’t want you to get lost in the woods.”

You walk together in silence, but Steve feels comforted. Like maybe he could go back to sleep when he lays down instead of worrying about dying.

“Hey,” you say when you approach his cabin. “Um… Mia? She wanted me to put in a good word for her.”

“As in?”

“As in, you should sit with her at lunch.” You wink. “She’s one of those ‘every girls’ that likes you.”

His eyes widen and then he smiles, shaking his head. “You mean it?”

“No, it’s a prank.”

He laughs softly and shakes his head again. “Well, thanks for the tip.”

You smile and nod. When you turn to walk towards your cabin, you say, “Goodnight, Steve.”

He waves after you. “Goodnight.”

===

taglist (join here!): @troop-scoop @therealestdookie @jasontoddisfantastical @mybestfriendthedingus @anonymousonion23 @darth-el @unknownherelm @random-thoughts-003 @metuel18 @dark-academics-and-florals @magicstrengthandcourage @mathchampagne @magnitude101999 @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @sunshine-and-riverwater @dark-academics-and-florals @scooprtroopr @heart-eye-harrington @sourapplebaby @comedy-witch @mochminnie @thatkidofwarandpeace @lukeskisses @ssanjuniperoo @harrington-ofhawkins @write-from-the-heart @yazmin626 @bravest-at-heart

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington au #the campers #this chap is truly horrific but what can u do truly!

129 notes · View notes

sproutspright · 5 years ago

Text

Forget Me Not

A/N

This is my first writing and its not very good, but I figured I’d just post it anyway. I kind of struggled with the ending. Let me know if you’d like to see more /.\

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 4.1k

Song Rec: Summer Love- Aseul

“Please darling, it won’t be the same without you,” your mother pleaded over the phone as you began to stack up a semester’s worth of textbooks and scrawled note paper. Your dorm window was propped open to invite the warm balmy May breeze into your bedroom. You had just finished your second semester of college, and were looking forward to moving into your own apartment. Though you had been away from home for two years, you only had just begun to feel truly independent.

“I’ve gone every year though, can’t I just enjoy my new place? I have so much to do,” you replied, boxing up the books for good. Of course you loved the yearly summer vacation tradition of going to the seaside town of Cape Azure. Yet somehow, you felt it would hinder your momentum. You had been on the trip every year without fail, but it only symbolized a part of yourself that was now in the past.

“You’ll have plenty of time to do that afterwards, it’s only three weeks. It’s the only time we all have together,” her voice cracked, and you couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not, but it struck you still. Your father was a professor, and worked tirelessly over the fall and spring. Summer really was the only time you could say you had spent with him for as long as you could remember.

“Fine,” you sighed, knowing there was no arguing with her, “I’ll see what kind of flight I can catch later tonight, okay?”

“He’ll be so happy to see you,” your mother sang. You laughed, suddenly looking forward to it. In the back of your mind, you wondered if he would still be there too.

The familiar salty breeze ruffled your sundress as you strode across the road and onto the boardwalk, colorful sailboats dotting the turquoise shoreline. The air was slightly humid, and sweat had already begun to stick to your neck. You gazed up at the endless sky, so crushingly blue it only served to contrast the stark white beach houses hugging the sand. You had arrived at Cape Azure only yesterday, but you were already eager to immerse yourself back into nostalgia. You had walked along the boardwalk so many times, enjoying the view and the different kinds of people scattered about. Some local, and many others just visiting like yourself. Although you didn’t want to admit it, you had come to see if he was still here.

Your steps took you back to the kayak rental stand, nestled between the dock and a gelato shop that you never failed to revisit. You had met him here at fifteen, when your parents had asked you to pick out a kayak. That entire summer was spent together, an innocent friendship blossoming. He was all you thought about until you’d seen him again.

Your eyes scanned the inside, but you were only met with a middle aged man reading a book from behind the counter. Your heart sank a little and you turned around, heading for the edge of the dock. The expanse of blue took your breath away as you trailed the edge of the railing, looking down to see if there were any seals swimming below. Peering down from such a drop made your head spin, and you quickly turned back up, staggering slightly.

“Are you alright?” a soft voice chimed beside you, and you froze.

“Ah, I…” you managed, looking into the eyes of the concerned boy. His black hair tousled in the wind and his dark eyes blinked into the sun. It was him.

“I-I’m fine, I just get dizzy easily,” you brush your hair out of your face, your pulse beginning to quicken.

“I see, well be careful then,” he said kindly, turning his attention to the water. You stood there for a moment before resting your arms against the railing, not sure of how this interaction would continue. It was like this every time, and you cursed at yourself for not being able to get used to it.

“My name’s y/n,” you said courageously, balling your fists and biting your lip. The sheen of sweat against your skin had become more noticeable to you now. You hoped the bright sun was a good enough excuse for the deep blush that colored your cheeks.

“Ah,” he said shyly, looking down, “I’m Doyoung.”

“Have we met before?” you asked, gritting your teeth. You knew it was a meaningless question.

“I-I don’t think so,” he said, looking over at you. His words were the same every time, but they still hurt nonetheless. It had been five years since you had known each other, and not once had he remembered you. At first you thought it was a joke, or his cruel way of trying to get rid of you. It didn’t take long for you to realize he had truly forgotten, and you had no way of knowing how he could possibly remember you. Each summer, you would meet again for the first time, become close, and then repeat the cycle. Though at first you were simply interested in him, your feelings quickly grew into something more.

“Do you want to get some gelato with me?” you smiled at his confused expression.

“Um, s-sure,” he agreed, and you heaved a sigh of relief as you both walked down the dock together.

“Are you here for the summer?” he asked timidly, his eyes glancing in your direction for only a moment.

“Yeah, just a few weeks. I usually come with my family every year.” His brow furrows and he nods as if he’s trying to recollect the broken pieces of his memory. You try not to let your disappointment show as you introduce yourself to him once again, pretending that you had never met before. But your memories of the previous summer made it all the more difficult.

The both of you picked out your ice cream and strolled along the white sand of the beach, the crashing of the waves calming your anxiety as you tried your best to make an impression on him. This was always the most critical time, because you were always afraid he would lose interest and you’d never get him back. But he always returned to you somehow.

Long after you had finished your gelato, you realized the sun’s angle in the sky and how long you had been “out for a walk”. Though it pained you to leave him, you weren’t sure how you could keep his attention much longer.

“Shit, it’s kind of late,” you looked at the clock on your phone, standing up from the stone wall you both had been sitting on, “I should probably go.”

“Wait,” he rose, “Can I give you my number?” You looked into his dark eyes, and you could swear they were sparkling. Your breath caught in your chest as you handed him your phone. Though he had given you his number many times before, you had always ended up deleting it as soon as you were back home. Even after a few days he didn’t know who you were, and it was pointless reaching out as you had learned.

He handed you the phone back and you smiled, “I’ll text you later. It was nice meeting you!” He returned your smile and nodded, “You too.”

You hadn’t wasted a single moment after your reunion with Doyoung. Every day he waited for you on the boardwalk, and you would talk until your parents would call asking where you had gone. It was blissful being around him again. The way he would laugh until he fell over, how he would always pick out a shell for you from the beach. As much as you tried to contain your feelings, you couldn’t help but fall in love with him each time. You had never met anyone like him.

“Hey, let’s go for a picnic today,” Doyoung suggested over the phone as you threw your wet hair up into a towel. Your mind immediately recalled the year before, when he had asked you to go on a picnic. Your cheeks flushed and you bit your lip, remembering how he had kissed you that day. It wasn’t your first kiss, but it was somehow different. Both of your feelings had progressed so much then, it felt like an entire lifetime within that span of three weeks. You had gotten better at distancing yourself from that part of your life, but the feeling of his lips lingered long into the cold winter months. You had spent countless nights lying awake, wishing you could just talk to him again.

“Yeah sounds fun,” you inhaled sharply, becoming flustered, “I’ll meet you at our usual spot.”

You finished getting ready, throwing on a denim skirt and light blue blouse, and applied a tinted gloss to your lips, just in case. As you headed out the door, you were greeted by bright sunshine and a temperate breeze, the sky so blue it made your chest ache. Doyoung met you at the boardwalk, a jean jacket draped over a black t-shirt and jeans, his lean figure propped against the wood of the kayak stand. He seemed startled by your appearance, unable to take his eyes off of you.

“You look...pretty today,” he breathed, taking a moment before grabbing your hand and leading you to a red tandem bike resting against the wall.

“I thought it would be fun if we tried this,” he said as he swung his leg over. You grinned and hopped your leg over carefully, grabbing onto the small bars for balance. This was one of his favorite things to do, and you loved it each time. The both of you rode to the sandwich shop nearby, picking up your favorites before heading through the rows of beach houses, securing your bags onto the handlebars. Before long, the houses dwindled into nothing but a wide road and a sea of grass and trees. You knew exactly where you were going, but it was still thrilling all the same.

At the large willow tree, he stopped and you both hopped off the bike, laying it on its side. He spread his jacket on the ground and offered for you to sit. You became nervous as memories flooded your mind, his soft lips and gentle hands.

“You know, it’s so weird,” Doyoung started after finishing his sandwich, “I don’t really know you, but you feel so familiar. I think that’s why I probably can’t stop thinking about you.” You gulped your strawberry soda and turned away, your cheeks ablaze.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you,” he said softly, his knee against your thigh, “I just really like you y/n.” Your heart pounds in your chest at his words. You can feel the electricity from his close proximity. You understand the moment, knowing all too well.

“I like you too,” you say quietly, the wind ruffling your hair a bit and cooling your face. Doyoung grabs your chin in his hand, looking at you intently as you try to avoid his gaze. His touch is like a searing hot iron on your skin, and you nearly flinch away.

“Can I kiss you y/n?” he whispered, his breath fanning your face and you nod, looking up at him through your lashes. He closes the distance between your lips and his, kissing you softly. All the tension in your body melts away as you both tentatively taste each other, becoming blissfully unaware of your surroundings. The sweetness of his kisses become slightly fevered, and he slips his hand to the back of your neck, curling his fingers in your hair. You shiver at the sensation, but this only seems to encourage him further. He pulls your waist closer to him until your chest is against his, continuing to deepen the kiss as you both become melded together. Your head is spinning but it’s the loveliest feeling, and you wish you could stay in that moment forever.

After awhile, Doyoung pulls away and watches your face as it becomes more and more overcome with emotion. He looks down at the grass, lacing his fingers between it as his hand falls from your cheek. You’re silent, heart wrenching as you try to remain composed. You had been longing for him for what seemed like decades, but you’d never allowed yourself to cry. Now it felt as if all those tears were prying their way from your eyes, suffocated by your suppression.

His hand reaches up to catch your tears that had already begun to fall. The look in his eyes was so beautiful and sad you felt you would weep.

“I do know you, don’t I?” Doyoung mumbled solemnly. You couldn’t look at him, your face entirely covered in tears. Why did you have to miss him so damn much? There was no future between you two. It was a vicious cycle of trying to get him to hold on to your memory, but you hadn’t accepted the fact that you yourself were trying to hold onto the memory of him.

“Please don’t forget me again Doyoung,” you whispered, clutching at the bottom of your skirt, shoulders twitching as you cried softly.

“I’m so sorry y/n,” he hushed, pulling you into his arms to lay your head on his chest. Usually it would take much longer for him to remember, but your lips had been enough for him. The pain in his chest now mirrored yours, only from guilt and hopelessness.

“I tried so hard to remember, I don’t know how long it even lasted,” his voice was heavy with shame, holding you tighter as if it could erase all the pain he had put you through, “But I’m here now. Let’s just try to make the most of the time we have.”

You weren’t sure if you should have tried to find him again. To unearth these feelings you so desperately tried to hide. But the steady beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his breathing intoxicated you. His presence was a temporary high, making everything okay as long as he was there. You knew this choice would only hurt you more, but for now you didn’t want to waste any time.

Days had gone by in a blissful blur as you both reminisced of the summers past. It always happened this way. You simply waited for him, and all of his memories of you came flooding back. In some ways it made things complicated, but you’d never felt so close to him before. He couldn’t stand a day without you. You were gone so much, your parents had started to complain. They had no idea, and you had no intention of telling them.

“Honey, let’s have one last sail on the water today,” your mother called to your father from the kitchen of their vacation home. You were lying on the couch, scrolling through your phone lazily with a leg hooked over the side.

“Hmm,” your father grunted, keeping his eyes fixed on his laptop from the lounge chair adjacent to you. Even now he was still focused on work. It made you sad, wondering if you’d end up like that too. You hoped he at least felt it meaningful or fulfilling in some way.

“Y/n, get dressed so we can all go out.” You sighed and rolled off of the couch and into the bathroom. You only had until tomorrow, and then your fleeting romance with Doyoung would be quickly extinguished. It made your body feel heavy. You couldn’t imagine forgetting all the wonderful new memories created, the smiles and kisses. It would all come to an end. And you weren’t sure if you could ever continue this again.

With much effort, you managed to look presentable and followed your parents to the harbor. Your father’s yellow sailboat sat tranquilly rocking back and forth, awaiting its next voyage. As you hopped aboard, you looked around to see if you might catch Doyoung hanging around somewhere by the beach. You wished you hadn’t felt so guilty for wanting to stay back.

After setting out on the water, you checked your phone to find that there was no service. Any hopeful texts would have to wait, and you begrudgingly took out your book you had brought with. Your parents chatted as you read, honing in on the sound of the waves lapping at the boat and the cry of the gulls overhead. Finally, you grew impatient and stripped off your shorts and tank, diving into the deep blue abyss. You popped your head from the water to the annoyed screams of your mother.

“Y/n, don’t scare me like that!” You shrugged and swam out a little, loving the feeling of the cool water on your sun kissed skin. The sky above you looked so infinite, you felt as though you’d fall into it and drown.

The sun had sunk low on the horizon, a burning, enduring red bleeding into the waters. You had never given much thought to sunsets, but it stirred something in your chest and you felt a lump begin to form in your throat.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” you mother mused, her eyes glued to the vibrant seascape. You nodded, not trusting your own voice to sound normal. It was so beautiful it hurt.

“Sad it never lasts long though,” your father hummed as the colors quickly began to ice over into a subdued purple. He began to steer back to the harbor before it got too dark, docking just as the sky became a dusty blue. Your footsteps were heavy with fatigue as you all walked back to the beach house, supposedly satisfied with the day.

“Oh dear you got a terrible sunburn,” your mother fretted as she took a good look at you. You had just sat back down on the couch, wincing at the rough fabric brushing against your skin.

“Guess I forgot sunscreen today,” you sighed, getting up to see if there was any aloe vera hiding in the bathroom cabinet. To your disappointment, there was none.

“Hey, I’m gonna go walk to the convenience store,” you called as you grabbed your purse from your room and shuffled on a pair of sandals.

“Are you sure? We could go for you,” your mother offered, but you insisted. You were exhausted, but you needed the fresh air to clear your head. The store wasn’t very far, only about a fifteen minute walk. There were still quite a few tourists out, heading to restaurants and enjoying evening beach strolls. You wondered if Doyoung had tried to call you, seeing as there were no texts coming through.

After picking up a bottle of aloe vera, you stepped back outside and shivered, the air considerably colder. You tried rubbing your arms, but it only aggravated your sunburn. As you turned the corner, you felt the weight of someone else crashing into you. You exclaimed in surprise, taking a step back. It was Doyoung.

“Y/n, I need to talk to you,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. You stood dumbfounded for a moment, but his presence brought such relief you finally felt normal for the first time that day.

“Doyoung,” you gasped slightly, “of course. I-I’m sorry I was out all day.”

“It’s okay,” he wrapped his arms around you, “I was just scared. I didn’t want to forget you.” Your heart sunk and you held onto him, burrowing your face in his chest. You didn’t know what to say. The agony of missing him paled in comparison to the thought of him fiercely yet futilely protecting his memories

“I’m leaving after tomorrow,” you said finally, and his body became stiff. He pulled away, looking at you with pitifully empty eyes. You bit your lip, feeling the lump in your throat once more.

“That’s okay. We’ll get through this,” he reassured, but even his voice wavered. You remained silent, blinking as you took his hand and began to walk. You didn’t know where you were going, but you couldn’t think straight. The moon had risen and painted a pale yellow streak on the waves, rippling and twinkling like stars. The both of you had made your way down to the sand, your hands still entwined.

“I can’t believe it’s been three weeks already,” you sighed, gazing up at the half moon, “I don’t want this to be over.” Doyoung stopped to place his hand on your cheek, his lips gently pressing against yours.

“We can make it work somehow,” he said as he kissed you again. You allowed yourself to be taken by his lips, committing the feeling to memory one last time.

“Doyoung, I don’t think it’s possible. At least, not anymore.”

“What are you saying? We can talk everyday. There’s no way we couldn’t-”

“You don’t remember,” you interrupted him, casting your eyes to the tide that snaked closer to your flip flopped feet. His brows knit together.

“But-”

“We’ve already tried. It never works. I don’t know what it is, but as soon as I’m gone you can’t remember anything.” He looked lost. Of course those memories never return. He’d never remember the way you cried over the phone, chanting your name over and over until the line went dead. It was never going to work. You cursed yourself for thinking otherwise at any point.

“Y/n, I don’t want to forget you,” his eyes glistened with tears, and your heart wrenched in your chest at the sight. There was no way you could do this to him again, or go through this. This was the last time.

“You won’t care as long as you don’t remember again,” you said solemnly, hating how your words sounded so cold, “I won’t come back.” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration, turning towards the sea with a helpless expression.

“Please, we can just take up where we left off. Can’t we?”

You shake your head, “I’m sorry, I just can’t. I should have let you go. I was being selfish and I’m sorry. I’ve just never met anyone like you before.” Your voice became quiet, the waves overpowering you.

“I think I’m in love with you though,” Doyoung said restlessly, and his words pierced through your chest. The waves became louder and you felt the splash of water as it nipped at your ankles. He looked so lovely in the moonlight, his features soft despite how distressed he was. Your heart ached at how much you would miss him.

“I can’t do this anymore. I won’t.” Your tears escaped you and you hugged him so tightly as though he would disappear at any moment. He kissed you again, though with such intensity you became dizzy, as though he was trying to convey all he had to you. When he lead you to the ridge of the sand, you let him. You let his hands explore your body, feeling the crackle of electricity running through you. You let him make love to you right there on the sand, for the first and last time. And it was both poignant and devastating, the only way you could say goodbye.

The next day, you didn’t see him or speak to him. You had already deleted his contact from your phone, ready to brace yourself for the pungent remorse. You tried not to think about how many times he would try calling you, how he must hate himself for being the reason it would never move past what it already was. It was all just too bittersweet.

As you packed your things the morning after, you took a deep breath of the salty air spilling from your window. You thought of your apartment waiting for you, your new life just beginning. It was something you so desperately wished you could share with him. But this place was a limbo, never changing, and he was another part of that. Though it broke your heart to admit it.

On your way to the car, you saw Doyoung’s soft black hair from down the sidewalk. You wanted to call out to him, but you were afraid he had already forgotten. There was still a bad taste in your mouth for leaving things like this, but it was the best you could do. Though you would be erased from this place, you would keep the memories alive in you. You were afraid of finally accepting what was never meant for you, but you could never, ever forget him. You knew the most beautiful things in life were too quick to vanish. And he was certainly beautiful.

#nct doyoung #doyoung #nct #nct angst #nct au #nct imagines #doyoung fic #nct fluff #nct 127 #kim doyoung #nct u #nct fic

11 notes · View notes

hallmark-movie-fanatics · 6 years ago

Text

Emeraude Toubia Talks Moving on From 'Shadowhunters' in Hallmark's 'Love in the Sun'

By Emily Aslanian May 22, 2019

Shadowhunters fans can look forward to seeing Emeraude Toubia grace TV screens yet again—but this time it isn't to play badass Shadowhunter Isabelle Lightwood.

Instead, the young actress has decided to jump into the realm of Hallmark Channel's rom-com flicks with Love in the Sun. Toubia plays dating app creator Alana, who has abandoned her sunny and peaceful life in Florida—along with her inn owner father (Shawn Christian) and dreamy high school sweetheart Kai, played by Tom Maden (Scream)—to become an entrepreneur in the city of Chicago.

Her work life is going splendid, and so is her love life (or so she thinks), as her journey home is prompted by an engagement to a man she met through her own app creation. Of course, there's nothing like running into your high school sweetheart to set doubts in your mind. And that's just what happens to Alana.

Below, Toubia previews the flick for us.

So, what inspired you to take this gig post-Shadowhunters?

Emeraude Toubia: I read the script and it talks about this young entrepreneur that strives to fight for her dreams. I thought it was really cool and was something that could really happen in the world. It also was one of the first times that Hallmark was taking on a younger lead couple. I had the pleasure of working with Tom Maden, who is such a sweetheart. It was just really nice to see that they were taking chances by doing this movie which was slightly catered to a younger audience.

Tell me about Alana. What’s she all about?

Alana is from a small town called Safety Harbor. Her dream is to make it big, so she moves to Chicago and opens a dating app company called Closer. So while she’s in Chicago, she gets engaged to a guy that she was dating for about a year, and that makes her go back home and visit her dad to share the news. She hadn’t visited Safety Harbor for a long time because her mom had passed away and she was trying to avoid that whole situation. When she goes back home, she sees her high school sweetheart again and remembers what that passionate love was like. You know, that love that lights that fire inside of you. And she ends up debating whether she should stay with the guy who is perfect on book, or the guy who takes her breath away.

It’s kind of like practical love versus passionate love.

Exactly. And she’s also debating whether she should stay home or go back to Chicago—you know, that work-life balance. How much is she willing to risk her career to stay in her happy place?

What's the Alana-Kai love connection like?

You know, they know each other without even saying anything—just by looking into each other’s eyes. He knows what she’s thinking and she knows what he’s thinking. He makes her slow down and breathe and appreciate her surroundings. He grounds her and makes her feel at ease.

Alana is also pretty sporty. She’s out in the water and she golfs!

Her passion is kayaking and being out on the water. It gives her gratitude towards nature and this amazing energy. Tom and I had a couple of kayaking classes over a weekend. It was lots of fun, and it’s not easy. You have to use so much core. The last thing you do is use your arms. So, imagine that. And actually, a little secret [on the golfing]: I don’t golf. I’ve done it with friends, but never like, officially. So, whenever you see my ball go, it’s actually Tom hitting the ball, because he’s actually a really good golfer. [Laughs]

This is your first Hallmark Movie, right? Where did you guys shoot?

Yes, this is. We actually shot in a town in Florida called St. Petersburg. I, of course, knew it was going to be pretty [shooting in Florida], but I didn’t expect it would be paradise. When I got to this town, I was mesmerized. I just couldn’t believe the crystal-clear water, the white sand, and the sunsets. I felt that I was truly just on a vacation. I don’t even know how to explain the ambiance on set. It was truly magical, and one of the best experiences I’ve ever had on a set. I know I’m just starting and I haven’t been on that many sets, but I don’t think I’m ever going to experience what I experienced on this set.

Do you watch a lot of rom-coms? Are you a romance movie fan?

I absolutely love rom-coms. I think every girl wants love. Who doesn’t want love? Whoever says they don’t is lying. I’ve always been in love with love. Not a lot of movies nowadays—big studios don’t do a lot of rom-coms. So, I’m glad that Hallmark is still doing those rom-coms because I don’t think they should go anywhere. We all go through all these different things and it’s nice to just sit down and watch romance flow and live.

Do you have a favorite rom-com of all time?

Oh my gosh, well J. Lo is my ultimate queen. I love Monster-in-Law.

Alana is a very strong female character; how do you think she compares to Izzy in Shadowhunters?

I consider them to be very similar. Alana knows what she wants and is always striving to get it. She’s unapologetic—even though right now, she’s kind of debating what she should do with her love life and her career. She’s also a girl who loves girls. She supports her best friend. It’s like that Clary and Izzy relationship. I think Alana and Izzy both strong women who speak their mind and take a stand.

Speaking of Shadowhunters, how has the response been since the finale aired? [Editor’s Note: The interview was conducted on May 7, the day after the finale episode aired on Freeform].

You know, it’s like, you don’t want to believe it’s over and then yesterday it was like, ‘Okay, it really is over.’ It’s been a really nice experience. I think the best part about the whole Shadowhunters experience though was the fans. They fight and stand up for what they believe in, you know, whatever they think is right. That’s something that I admire so much. I hope that they hop on my adventure with me and follow me wherever that is.

Because of the fans, I feel like every role I take now is about them, and I want to make sure that I am portraying roles that push them to want to be better. Everything I do, it’s crazy, but it’s with them in mind.

You said before that you’ve always been in love with love. Do you relate to Alana in her quest for true love at all?

It’s funny because I have been in that position where you don’t know what to do and you don’t want to hurt the other person, so you’re just stuck debating about following your heart. I'll say this: I think at the end of the day, you should always follow your heart.

SOURCE:

https://www.tvinsider.com/780275/emeraude-toubia-love-in-the-sun-hallmark-channel-shadowhunters/

#interviews #emeraude toubia #love in the sun #countdown to summer #hallmark movies #hallmark channel #link #photo preview

4 notes · View notes

dorkylittleweirdo · 5 years ago

Text

Camp things part 12

Obstacle course day today

Disaster

One of my 9 year olds broke her arm and another 10 year old got a possible spinal injury

Fucking dumbass other assistant oml. Kid comes off the course rubbing his neck and wincing so I'm heading tf over just in case. Tells D that his neck hurts, D goes "whatever go back in line so you can go again" and I'm like "waiT, bud how'd you hurt your neck" and he's like "I fell off the ladder" I asked him a couple move questions while I'm having him sit down and I'm like "k hold on a sec bud" and I went to one of the instructors like "hey K, the kid fell off the ladder, hit head first and hurt his neck. Should we call level 3 for possible spinal?" And she's on it she's on radio "get the kids down to the beach and call level 3"

So 4 other instructors came over to help and kids are trying to crowd around and I'm like "imma herd them all down" so I'm yelling like "guYS LET'S GO. DOWN TO THE BEACH NOW, COME ON". D won't go, he's kinda looking at the scene and getting in the way and I'm like "dude let's GO, the EMTs need room to work too, they'll be here any minute" and he said like he can help and I'm like no tf you can't they're more qualified than you and so am I so like let's go

So later he's talking to me like "oh I shouldn't have been so stupid" and I'm like "you're right, you should've handled that better and asked him questions, so if that ever happens again maybe you'll be able to react properly" and he tried making excuses and I'm like "no, if you wanted sympathy you shouldn't have come to me, you claim to be first aid certified and all this shit but you if you can't tell when someone needs help, you'll be useless as an actual lifeguard or whatever. This was a learning experience for you, take it as you will"

Also keep in mind that I'm not usually like that but first of all I was already pissed at him from yesterday, two he wasn't aware of his surrounding at all, 3 he flexes his certification all the time but clearly doesn't know the first thing about it, 4 he was getting in the way after we told him what we needed to do next to help. Also apparently that's my asperger's so yeet

Us 5 good assistants went to parking lot while the shitty 6 stayed behind. There were only 2 kayaks left for then to take in, then the 2 bikes. Then all they need to do is take the board in, take the waters down, and collapse the canopies. We came back over half an hour later and they were JUST putting in the 2nd bike, board, waters, and canopies still needed to be done. Half an hour is how long it took us 5 to put 20 kayaks away,30 paddleboards, 2 bikes, 3 dockies, plus the stuff they hadn't done. So they were slacking the entire time and now everyone knows

Had to explain to my 12-13 year old boys why they can't make r*pe jokes and why they're not funny. One of them then goes "well it's not r*pe of she enjoyed it" then i had to explain (which I shouldn't have even had to do bc common sense) that that is, in fact, still r*pe. I basically told them it's like when you tickle someone and they're uncomfortable and hate it and don't want you to do it but they still laugh bc that's just the way the body reacts and they understood

My kids all told me that they love me and that I'm their favorite assistant and I was Very Happy

#shitpost #summer camp #camp #camp counselor #tw rape mention

1 note · View note

thecapefangirl · 6 years ago

Text

So yesterday I had quite an adventure

Every Sunday I walk across my beach (it is a relatively small beach, and takes about a half an hour to cross it), and up a section of the mountain nearby to a ruins of an old fort. There is a little place of paradise where it faces the sea and sometimes dolphins swim by, and a nook where I read and write in peace without any distractions.

Anyway yesterday it was about twenty-five degrees C, and I was dying of heat when I got to my place. At the bottom was a bunch of rock pools and shade so I suddenly had this urge to go down and sit in the rock pools to cool off.

The only problem was that the only way down was my skidding on my arse down a steep af hill with a bunch of pokey sticks up my butt every two seconds. I would be dangerous and there could have been snakes like Cape Cobras and Puff Adders, or huge ass spiders. Yet I went down, without trepidation. I didn’t think about how the hell I was going to get up again, only how I would reap the sweet reward of swimming in icy, refreshing water.

I did get down, with my bag intact and a minor scratches and grazes on my bum, I clambered over the rocks into the nearest pool, throwing off my one-suit shorts thing. I did have a bikini bottom on because I ran out of panties, and a matching bra so I was fine.

For the first two hours it was great! I chilled in the water and began to continue to write in my notebook. Then I realised...people were staring at me.

Sunday+warm weather+beach=loads and loads of canoes and speed boats and tour boats. I was so in my mind I did not see three men staring at me as they went by in their kayak. I tried to run and hide, because that is my natural instinct, but to run in a sarong covering my bra and bikini and to hid in a place where there is virtually no rocks big enough to hide me, I went insane. I just had to wait until they went. Once they were gone I quickly dipped in the water again before someone else went past and put my clothes on.

I ran to the path where I came out from and did some serious Spider-man shit. I clung to roots and branches as my muddied feet tried to cling to the crumbly Earth.

After fighting with a thousand branches, and throwing caution to the wind about the state of my body, I managed to get to the top... of somewhere nowhere near my nook. I was actually lost. But I knew if I continued to climb up, I would reach the old cannons that lay on a flat surface.

There was no visible path, and i was getting thirsty and tired and all refreshed sense from the swim left me. But I had to continue if I were to get home.

So I did and I finally got to the top. I still decided to go back to my nook to rest and read in the shade, and to make sure I didn’t have ticks or something. My legs are covered top to bottom in cuts, including under my feet and my arms. My hair, even though I washed it, was covered in grit and dirt. My neck was sandy and I nearly threw up because my throat was so dry. I knew I had to get home.

Walking up the mountain to the road was a mission, but the rest was downhill, literally. I washed my legs in the sea water, only just realising that my thighs began to chafe. My back heated up from the sunburn I received. I got home without a problem; my mom and dad just rolled their eyes when I told them the story and told me that I could have been hurt or bitten or broken my limbs. I honestly told them I am never going to do that again, because every muscle hurts like hell and I am itchy and burny and I have to study God-awful maths while doing chores and worrying about my exams and life.

But I am glad I did it.

#true story #beach #story time #rock climbing #adventure #exercise #dead #tired #noregrets #no regrets

1 note · View note

myneighborhood-thelake · 3 years ago

Text

Sausalito AR Training, December 1998

A couple of weeks ago there was a thread about “Epic Training Adventures” on Tri-DRS. A couple of us too Epic training to heart and scheduled an incredible adventure that took place yesterday. This was the most training fun that I have had in a long time.

For those people interested in Adventure Racing, our training was based on a mini-adventure race – kayak, mountain bike and run.

7:30am – Paul Allman shows up at my house, and we pack up my truck with two mountain bikes, two large duffel bags full of gear and a pile of food. It is about 30deg F and raining. We wonder about the sanity of training in such conditions, but as fledgling adventure racers – “we live for adversity.”

7:45am – we are on the road. Looking up at the coastal mountains we are shocked. Snow. Yes, at about 2400’ there is a very clear snow line. Neither of us have seen snow on Skyline Road before. We laugh like mentally deranged children.

8:30am – meet fellow dead Craig Benson at his house in San Francisco. I have a small truck (Chevy S-10) with a standard cab. We put our gear bags inside trash bags to hopefully keep our stuff dry. Then we pack three bikes, three sets of gear and three men into my truck for the drive over to Sausalito – it is a tight fit in the cab of my truck.

EVENT NUMBER ONE – SEA KAKAKING

9:00am – arrive in Sausalito where it is brutally cold and there is at least a 20 mile per hour wind biting through us. The kayak guy wonders about our sanity an mentions that hail is forecasted. This is true adversity.

9:30am – there are five of us in three kayaks – two doubles and one single. I am paired with Rich, who looks like an adventure racer; tall, lean and unshaven. We put in and work on our paddle strokes. The key to paddling a double kayak is teamwork. After a couple of minutes we leave the harbor and enter choppy seas and a tough headwind. We reach an open section that feels like a wind tunnel. Rich and I bear down and paddle across. My wetsuit and spray jacket is keeping me plenty warm now that we are paddling hard and creating body heat. I have never been in such choppy conditions before. Craig is in the single kayak and almost gets blown over a couple of times. We cruise close to shore and ogle the mansions built with more glass than walls – can you say “real estate with a view.” In the sheltered areas Rich and I occasionally push the pace. When we are in synch we can really make that double kayak move. Unfortunately my hands are getting very tired from paddling when we head back to the harbor.

To get back we have to cross Richardson Bay, and we are paddling perpendicular to the current and wind. We get beam on in a couple of swells and the kayak rolls and dips but stays upright. We hit the beach in a few minutes and are greeted with snow flurries. Yes, it was snowing at sea level in San Francisco. Since we are no longer paddling, our bodies cool quickly in the wind, rain and snow, and we are soon bitterly cold. We return our kayaks and the kayak shop immediately closes due to “Adverse Weather Conditions.” I feel like I am taking part in an event that only a few people would even consider attempting.

kayak time – a little over 2 hours

12:00 pm - we change clothes from kayak gear to mountain bike gear. I wonder what to wear on the bike to prepare me for the weather conditions. I am a Californian who is not used to this type of cold. We eat a little, and fill up our water bottles. My Pringles go quickly.

12:30 pm - the start of the mountain bike. I am test riding a dual-suspension Trek that a buddy has for sale. It is my first time ever having suspension on a bike. We will ride a route that Craig uses often for training. The route goes up through the Marin headlands, down almost to the Pacific Ocean and back to Sausalito. Of course, it can never be as simple as "up, down and back home." The ride is more like up, up some more, look at the incredible view of San Francisco, down, up, keep going up, go up some more, go down, go down really fast, take a break, go up, shift down to your lowest gear, try to keep your front wheel from leaving the ground because it is so steep, look at the incredible view of the Pacific, keep going up, go up some more, take a break. Now we get to do a really technical downhill. We zip up and throw on another layer, then we point our bikes down, there are several jumps on the path I launch off of the first jump and scare myself silly, so I decide to keep both tires on the road. I start to get very hungry for solid food. I develop a craving for chicken fajitas. Ummmm, chicken fajitas on a sizzling cast iron skillet, wouldn't that be nice. Back on the mountain bike the trail twists and turns and is almost too much fun. Finally it is time for one long climb, one long downhill, one short climb on a road, and a downhill to our cars. The long climb and downhill go well, but I hit the wall on the short climb. Paul gives me some gorp and a Fig Newton which I inhale. After a short break to let the food work into my system we start paddling again, and about fifteen minutes later we are at our cars.

Verdict on the Trek - suspension is very nice, but this bike needs too many component upgrades in order to make it race worthy.

Ride time - 3 hours of actual riding and 3 1/2 hours of elapsed time.

4:00 pm - we refuel and consider our options for the run. Our fifth member, Jeff, has to leave, so the rest of us decide on a 1 hour run. It is incredibly cold in Sausalito with the wind blowing very hard. I change into my running shoes, but leave my tights, bike jersey, full gloves and arm warmers on. I also chose to wear what I would normally call my winter coat. I have never before done a run wearing an insulated jacket, but on this occasion I was very happy to have my coat.

We start running at a moderate to slow pace - probably about a 9:30 or 10:00min per mile pace. We fall into a paceline and trudge along. My fingers start to hurt as the blood starts to circulate in my finger tips once again. At the 30 minutes mark we turn around and start walking back. We start to run again and settle into a steady pace. My legs are very sore and I would rather walk, but it is only a few miles back to the car. We pick up the pace slightly in order to get the run over with. At best we were running 9:45 min/mile, but I am really pushing to even hold that slow of a pace. A few hundred yards away from the cars we stop running and walk it in.

It's over. In 7 and 1/2 hours we have accomplished a kayak, mountain bike, and run training day. I am very tired and very satisfied. Craig starts talking about hitting a bar to listen to his favorite ska band. I can only think of sleep, and Craig still has the energy to go grab a beer - I am not sure where he stores his reserve power.

We pack up and head home. I drop off Craig and Paul, and drop my gear off at my house. I have only one thought - food, specifically chicken fajitas which I have been craving for several hours now. I am sure that I was the worst dressed man in the restaurant, but those fajitas were delicious........

It was an amazing day. I look forward to training with this group in the near future.

0 notes

ridingthatbike · 4 years ago

Text

O Pennsylvania: a birthday celebration

What a hard year this has been. Injured, out of work, living through a pandemic, unable to visit family, giving up on planned adventures. So isolating. Every time we leave the house there is a risk calculation. We want to celebrate Q’s birthday, we want to go camping, we want to see our friends, we want to be safe, we want to avoid being unknowing carriers of a deadly virus. We research. We consider. We look for the places where there will be few people. We want to call up our friends who live in the area but know it’s safer to keep it to just us two. It’s hard.

I have been hurt for most of this year. I fell in the beginning of February, hurt my thumb and figured it was just taking a long time to heal. Turns out I shattered the bone, and tore a ligament too, so I lived through March in a cast, and lost my job and our health insurance while still casted and not knowing if I would need surgery. It was hard. I got out of the cast and into a splint, and slowly worked on making my wrist and arm and shoulder stronger. I couldn’t touch my thumb and pinky finger together at the beginning. I got out of the cast and got permission to ride a bike again. I was not strong enough to shift gears. It was heartbreaking and I felt a big internal pressure to heal faster. It did not help. I got stronger, I rode mountain bikes a few times, I did lots of yoga, I did lots of workouts. How else am I going to handle the stress of being unemployed and trying not to panic while the virus is spreading, barely contained. I overdo it, and have a huge setback. I hurt my wrist and can’t put any weight on it, not even just to shift my weight in a chair. It’s hard, and I’m sad.

Incredibly, at this precise moment, Q breaks a toe and we are suddenly both off the bike. No pressure, just waiting and healing. It takes the time it takes. We don’t know how long it will be. We try to be patient. We read a lot of books. We cook a lot of food. We have an inflatable kayak now, my best pandemic purchase, and we do a lot of paddling because it’s something we can do outside that accommodates both of our injuries. It helps.

And then it’s Q’s birthday. Pandemic birthdays are hard, but we are going to do it. We are stronger and healthier. We reserve a dispersed campsite in Rothrock State Forest, and pack everything: camp stuff, and stuff for hiking and biking and paddling. Our tiny car is so full!

We drive to camp and set up hammocks and tents. We look at the map. We pick a little hiking route, and have to keep it chill -- it’s pretty new that Q can even walk with shoes on, let alone hike on the rocky Mid-State Trail. We walk down to an overlook, and on the way, we see a small dead bird on the road. Better luck next time, small creature. We scramble up to the top of the ridge to walk a little while on the MST. It feels so good to be doing something hard. We aren’t doing a lot of it, but we are doing it. It fills my heart with joy. We turn around before too long, because we don’t want to aggravate our bodies.

Back at camp, we sit in our hammocks and read. I watch the death throes of a katydid. It seems to have an injured leg. I relate. I hear a raven but I never see it, and I feel that very specific thrill of knowing something with absolute certainty because you’ve done your homework and you remembered it -- some time ago, my friend mentioned the ravens yelling in her yard and I didn’t know what they sounded like, so I looked it up and listened to audio file after audio file, knowing that one day I’d be in raven territory. I learned a lot about birds when I was hurt and couldn’t go anywhere. I’m pleased that some of it stuck.

The next morning I watch an ant carry off the katydid’s leg. It is not so often that we are still enough to watch these transitional moments, and I feel so good, so connected, so much a part of things in the world. I’m not just placed into this environment, I am this environment. I like it, it’s a good feeling. It fills up something in me that has been empty for a while.

We take our adventure bikes out to ride some gravel forest roads, and as we roll out, I see a big black snake eating the dead bird we saw yesterday and I am surprised by how happy it makes me. We are all living and dying here on this planet, and for some reason, it feels reassuring to see it happening.

It’s honestly exhilarating to ride my bike in the woods. I can’t believe my wrist is tolerating this. The joy is so extreme, I feel overwhelmed. A small hawk flies a little ahead of me and lands in a tree right by the edge of the road, stays still long enough for me to have a good look and know that it’s a red-shouldered hawk. Later, I see a porcupine trundle across the road and motion for Q to slow down. I try to find it in the woods on the other side, but porcupines are shy and good at hiding. He will just have to believe me. I saw it and it made my heart go boom.

We climb a long long hill, and I am amazed to feel so good on the climb. I have gas in the tank. I can’t go fast, and I can’t go far, but I can go. I can! Absolutely out of character for Pennsylvania, as we approach the top, we can see the huge views on the other side of the mountain. It is wildly motivating and yet I want to take my time. It’s so unusual to get to see things unfold in this way. PA style is more commonly a wall of green leaves until there’s an opening and you can see what else is around you. Can you believe? We pause, we regard, it feels so great -- to have climbed a long climb, to be on a bike at all, to feel no pain, to be alive in this body.

We eat a little lunch and contemplate whether to take the gravel road, or to take this little bit of singletrack we found. Central PA singletrack is rocky and we don’t know if our bodies are up for it. We take the gamble, and are rewarded with a glorious and not-too-bouncy ride. Oh I’ve missed singletrack so much. I couldn’t ride it at all when I was injured, and even walking it during the pandemic is stressful because there are so many people on the trails now. It is a rare treat to feel so much space around us and to feel so safe.

That night after letting the campfire die out, we spend a while looking at the sky. It’s the tail end of the Perseids, and we are lucky enough to see a few. We realize, amazed, that we can see the Milky Way. I’ve never seen it so close to home. We are here, we are part of this. We are not so isolated as the pandemic has made us feel.

In the morning, we pack up and drive to a quiet put-in at Raystown, one with few powered boats, and we paddle our little inflatable boat around, looking at the big rounded green hills all around us. O Pennsylvania! We find a tiny exposed bit of land to pull the boat onto, and while we are eating sandwiches, a big stick bug climbs onto our boat, and I find that we’ve stopped next to some perfectly ripe blackberries. That feels like a pretty good birthday present. We watch a heron take off and fly circles overhead before landing in a treetop and preening from its perch. What a treat. This whole time, we cannot believe our luck.

It’s good to be alive.

0 notes

cecilspeaks · 7 years ago

Text

114 - Council Member Flynn, part 1

At least their heart’s in the right place, I say, softly running my hand across a plastic takeout container. Welcome to Night Vale.

In light of a string of armed robberies across Night Vale, the City Council today called a press conference. They announced in unison that they are greatly disturbed by this crime wave, because it means that they’ve had to put their vacation plans on hold. They really want to find a nice autumn spot to spend a month or two leaf-peeping, maybe kayaking if the sun’s out. But no, now someone’s running around town waving a gun and robbing stores. Plus they have this new City Council member, 16-year-old Tamika Flynn, who they’re trying to train. And now with all the robberies, the transition of their new member is going much more slowly. “Also,” they added, crime waves require so much paperwork and we’re way behind! You people.” And here the Council pointed their many fingers at the gathered citizens and press. “You! People!”

Yesterday’s robbery of the Ralph’s only resulted in the theft of 72 dollars and an endcap of Chex Party Mix. And while nobody was hurt, this was the 12th robbery in the past week. Weekday shift manager at the Ralph’s, Charlie Bear, described the robber as a slight person with a high voice, wearing coveralls and a black leather mask. The robber demanded whatever money Charlie could grab, so he emptied his bank mag of petty cash. But when he went to unlock the register, which had several hundred dollars, the robber had already left.

City Council, waving their many limbs in frustration, asked for calm. “Everything’s fine,” they said unconvincingly. “It’s fine!” they repeated, but the agitated crowd continued to scream and clutch their chests. “Please be chill, it’s going to be fine!” the City Council roared with their many discordant voices from one body. But for some reason, the crowd just wasn’t feeling fine.

And now a look at sports. The Night Vale High School wheelchair basketball team defeated the Sand Planes Snakeguarders 60 to 58 last night in the pre-season state basketball tournament. This weekend they will take on the Pine Cliff Lizard Monitors in the finals. The Lizard Monitors were the division champions last year, going undefeated in the regular season. But the Night Vale Scorpions are being led this year by sophomore point card and my niece, Janice Palmer. Janice led the division last year in assist..s, which is a statistic.. of some kind. I asked my brother in law Steve Carlsberg, who is an offensive coach on his daughter’s team, what an assist was and he explained it, at length. But I forget exactly what he said. It-it-it-it made sense at the time, it’s it’s like a numerical measure of how helpful a person is, and Janice led our division last year in helpfulness. So here’s hoping that continues. Good luck, Scorpions! Go get’em, Janice!

And now a word from our sponsors. Today’s show is brought to you by the new green market co-op, which just opened up on Galloway Road between Patty’s Hardware and Discount Pastries and one of those escape-the-room places, where you wake up in a bath tub chained to a pipe, and there’s another person across the room also chained to a pipe, and in the middle of the room is a dead body with a gun and a cassette player? Yeah, I hear those are great fun. Green market co-op owner Tristan Cortez said he opened the new store to provide a safe space for all your produce optics and food content transactions. Too often, the people who eat food don’t know where they are, or why they are, and they cry. They just sob in the middle of a store, afraid. Well, the new green market co-op store front on Galloway Road won’t let that happen, Cortez said. He said he will there every day to hold your hand, to nuzzle your neck with his nose, to whisper to you: “Don’t be afraid”, as he hands you an eggplant.

Oh, a quick aside, listeners. Did you know that people in Europe don’t call them “eggplants”? They call them “aubergines”. They also call arugula “rocket”, oranges “dipdops”, Boston lettuce “Dublin weeds”, and plums “swole grapes”. Anyway, Cortez said building the new store was his daughter Camilla’s idea. She’s an undergraduate studying business, and according to Camilla’s intensive research into the matter, she found having a physical location would be a huge boost in sales for a grocery store. So come on down to the brand new green market co-op. You’re not safe anywhere but here.

Only minutes after their initial press conference, the City Council called another press conference. There was no new news on the ongoing burglaries, they just wanted to say that it used to be different, this town, this whole area. “Nah you don’t understand,” they said. “We are centuries old,” the City Council said. “We were born in caves far beyond this desert, and we wandered until we found a place we could call home. We swam rivers, navigated forests, even climbed mountains. Yes Night Vale, there are mountains. For we have not only seen them, but crested them, and we ended up here in Night Vale. We were many-voiced, but also many-bodied then, like all of you. We wore crowns made of soft meat, and taught ourselves magical spells, and used mind control on birds!” the Council continued. “We ran this town, and the people who settled here feared us! They respected us, too. Respected the blank out of us, like respect coming out the blank. Blanking respectful as blank. You know?” The City Council coughed slightly and asked for a can of Pamplemousse la Croix from one of their aides, as they thumbed thru their notes.

“But one day, our magic failed us, and our many bodies became one body,” the Council said, still in unison. “It was Deborah that messed up the spell.”

“I did not!” came a single voice from the City Council’s body. “Did too!” came a different single voice. “Your handwriting is garbage, Germaine!” said the first voice. “Stop it, both of you!” the Council shouted in unison.

They continued: “And over the years, our legend, our mystique, has faded in the eyes of Night Vale. We were seen as fallible, as weak, as protectors of an old guard. And now as we witnessed this new face, this young Tamika Flynn, join our ranks we are reminded that the world moves on. The world is always growing older, and younger at the same time.” The City Council sighed. “I guess what we’re trying to say is millennials are ruining everything with their civic involvement and their lack of magic, and their disregard for wearing soft meats on their heads. So entitled, this genere-”

Just then, Tamika Flynn appeared at the site of the podium, and there was a long silnece. “Awkwardd!” The City Council sang. Tamika stepped ofrward to say she completed the paperwork to increase temporary funding for police overtime, in light of the recent wave of robberies. “Rad, thanks!” said the Council. “Do the young people still say ‘rad’?” the Council asked Tamika who replied, “I gotta get back to the Mayor’s office to ask about financial relief for robbery victims,” and left.

Let’s have a quick look at traffic. Last week’s storms flooded the old cemetery down in the lowlands in Old Town Night Vale, and several human remains were washed out of their burials into Route 32. It wasn’t, like, skeletons or anything. I mean, there were a few skeletons and three or four really well preserved bodies, like skin and clothing and everything, but for the most part, it was just kind of a pulpy mud that blocked the road. Transportation department crews are still working on clearing the roadways, but it’s super gross, so the workers are vomiting a lot. Which is causing motorists on Route 32 to vomit as well, which is really slowing things down. So avoid Route 32 and take 9A instead. This has been traffic.

Listeners, only minutes after their last press conference, which was minutes after the first press conference, the City Council called another press conference. This time with Tamika Flynn. They said, “We’re still trying to teach this young one about how to council a city, so we brought her up here to shadow us. She’s a single-voiced, separately-bodied entity. Yet, she still has not joined our form! She walks and talks separate from us, and that is not how a city council should operate!” they said in unison, attempting to stare down the teenage council member. “It goes against Robert’s rules of order, Miss Flynn,” the City Council hissed condescendingly. “Anyway,” they said, “we’re having a third press conference, because there was another armed robbery just now, at the Spiky Hammer coffee shop, over near the Science District. The perpetrator stole the tip jar, which contained well over 17 dollars. They also stole a French press, but like, a really nice stainless steel insulated one, not that tempered glass garbage.” The crowd murmured their panic, and the City Council shouted, “It’s fine, try calming down for once, geez!” which had the opposite effect of calming.

Tamika then leaned over and said quietly to the Council, “They were calm. Listen, we can fix this, this is not a problem.” The City Council said, “You’re a problem!” “Am not,” Tamika quipped. “Yuh huh!” As of this report, the “am not” versus “yuh huh” debate is continuing on the press podium at City Hall. The gathered crowd of alarmed citizens has begun clawing at each other’s faces and screaming things like, “17 dollars!” and “It could have been us!” and “A glass French press? What are we, monsters?” More on this story as we get updates.

But next, let’s have a look at today’s weather.

[”Song For Myself" by Bears with Eagle Arms]

Well. The City Council press conference is still going on. But it looks like the argument has resolved, and only Tamika Flynn remains at the podium. She has stepped to the mic, paused dramatically and stoically, and then begun speaking. Here is her speech.

“People of Night Vale. Have I not fought librarians? Have I not flown helicopters and battled corporate overlords? Have I not read all 9 volumes of William Faulkner’s epic anthology, “Alexander and the Terrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day”?

People of Night Vale, have I not always been there for you, to serve you, to protect you? Have I not proven that I can defeat a small-time armed robber?

You have nothing to fear. Not just because I’m here, but because the City Council is here. We are a complementary balance of incredible talents. My talent is weapon skills, intolerance for wickedness, and a love of books. The other council members’ talent is enjoying long vacations during difficult times. The rest of the City Council and I have come to an agreement. To make this town safe, I will work closely with Sheriff Sam and the Secret Police and the Mayor to make Night Vale more secure. The other members of the council will take a month-long trip to Traverse City, Minchigane. They told me they only recently learned that Milshtafudd was a real US state, and they can just travel there, and they really wanted to go apple-picking and eat cider donuts. Autumn is the most beautiful time of year on the lake, they said. we’ll make you all proud with our vacation to Middasham, Night Vale. And I agreed and sent them on their way. We are a good and effective city council, Night Vale. You are a good and cooperative citizenry. Everything’s fine. It’s fine.”

Tamika repeated those last two words, each iteration softer and slower. And the crowd’s murmuring and fidgeting grew softer and slower, until there was silence and peace. Then Sheriff Sam jumped up on the rostrum, leaned in to Tamika, forgetting that the microphone was still on, and said, “Councilwoman Flynn, a robber held up the new green market co-op and nicked all their cash.” The crowd gasped. Sam continued: “But it’s much worse than that. Whoever did this, also burned the building down.” The crowd gulped. Sam then said: “Miss Flynn, we found the bodies of Tristan Cortez and his daughter Camilla inside.” The crowd wailed. Sam added: “I-I-I’m sorry Miss Flynn, it’s a bit loud here. I’m having a rough go at hearing you what with all the screaming. Can you speak up?” But Tamika stood still, silent, as the crowd ran in circles, pulling at each other’s hair. Tamika gathered herself and then stepped back to the microphone. She cleared her throat and said, “I know everything is no longer fine, but it will be. I got you, Night Vale. I got you.”

The crowd stopped running and shrieking, although they continued tugging at each other’s hair. Tamika said, “Our small-time criminal is now a real threat, a force of violence among us. But I can stop them. Do you want safety?” and the crowd chanted: “Yes.” “Do you want security?” and the crowd chanted: “Absolutely.” “Do you trust me?” and the crowd chanted: “We certainly do, because we are scared!”

Tamika then turned to the Sheriff and said: “Sam, do you agree?” “Yes, anything, whatever you want,” Sam said.

“Give me your badge.” Sam paused. “Give me.. your badge.” Sam slowly reached across their lapel, unhooked their badge and handed it to Tamika, who then pinned it to her shirt. “And your hat and jacket,” Tamika said. And Sam gave her their hat and jacket, and Tamika put them on.

Tamika said, “OK. Curfew is now 8 PM. No one is out after 8 PM. And no one is out alone at any hour. Sam? You’re my Deputy Sheriff now. No one goes in or out of town. Arrest anyone who does.” Tamika then ordered all city buildings to be painted red, to let this criminal now we will cover the whole town in their blood. She said once more: “Everything’s fine, it’s fine. It’s 6 PM already, so go get your dinner and go home before curfew. And do not be out alone. The Secret Police will stop anyone walking alone.”

She concluded the press conference by saying: “Good night, Night Vale, good night.”

Today’s proverb: The seven habits of highly effective people are: 1. levitation. 2. translucense. 3. omnipresence. 4. country music. 5. lime zest. 6. suns for eyes. 7. hiccups.

#welcome to night vale #wtnv transcripts #episode 114 #council member flynn part 1

54 notes · View notes

flyingsaucereyes · 7 years ago

Text

my legs hurt more than my arms do from The Kayaking Adventure pt 2 yesterday

#idk how???#did i row with my legs??????

2 notes · View notes

stars-forever-dwell-blog1 · 8 years ago

Text

Membership to V.A. (Victims Anonymous)

Once there was a young woman named Sedna. She lived in the Arctic with her mother and father. She loved her mother and father very much and was very content. Her father was a skilled hunter, so he provided very well for his family. Sedna had plenty of food and warm furs to wear. She liked the comfort of her parent’s home and refused to marry. Many Inuit men desired Sedna for a wife and asked her parents for permission to marry her. But Sedna refused them all. Even when her parents insisted it was time for her to marry she refused to follow tradition and obey them.

This continued for quite some time, until one particular Inuk came to visit Sedna. This man promised Sedna that he would provide her with plenty of food to eat and furs for clothes and blankets. Sedna agreed to marry him. After they were man and wife, he took her away to his island. When they were alone on the island, he revealed to her that he was not a man at all, but a bird dressed up as a man! Sedna was furious, but she was trapped and had to make the best of it. He, of course, was not a good hunter and could not provide her with meat and furs. All the birdman could catch was fish. Sedna got very tired of eating fish every day.

They lived together on the island for a time, until Sedna’s father decided to come and visit. Upon seeing that his daughter was so unhappy and that her husband had lied to her, he killed the birdman. Sedna and her father got into his kayak and set off for home. The birdman’s friends discovered what they had done and wanted to avenge the birdman’s death. They flew above the kayak and flapped their wings very hard. The flapping of their wings resulted in a huge storm. The waves crashed over the small kayak making it almost impossible to keep the boat upright.

Sedna’s father was so frightened that the storm would fill his kayak with water and that he would drown in the icy waters that he threw Sedna overboard. He thought that this would get the birds to stop flapping their wings, but it did not. Sedna did not want to be left in the water, so she held tightly to the edge of her father’s boat and would not let go. Fearing that she would tip him over, the father cut her fingers off, one joint at a time. From each of her finger joints different sea creatures were born. They became fish, seals, walruses, and whales.

Sedna sank to the bottom of the ocean and there became a powerful spirit. Her home is now on the ocean floor. If you have seen her, you know she has the head and torso of a woman and the tail of a fish.

Sedna now controls all of the animals of the sea. The Inuit who rely on these animals want to maintain a good relationship with Sedna, so that she will continue to allow her animals to make themselves available to the hunters. Inuit have certain taboos that they must follow to keep Sedna happy. One of these says that when a seal is killed it must be given a drink of fresh water, not salt water.

If the hunters do not catch anything for a long time, the Shaman will transform himself into a fish. In this new form, he or she will swim down to the bottom of the ocean to appease Sedna the Sea Goddess. The Shaman will comb the tangles out of Sedna’s hair and put it into braids. This makes her happy and soothes her anger. Perhaps it is because Sedna lost her fingers that she likes to have her hair combed and braided by someone else. When she is happy, she allows her animals to make themselves available to the hunters. Animals do not mind giving themselves up to provide food, clothes, and shelter for the Inuit.

-Lenore Lindeman

(The story of Sedna the sea goddess was first introduced to me as a lesson in gaining the wisdom of victimhood.)

So it’s been a freakin’ long time since I posted anything here; to be honest, that eight parter about my time as a neo hippie was emotionally exhausting, and I just needed a break from the heavy stuff. But I realized in aftermath of that emotional storm that this blog has become like an old friend who I can share anything with: I missed it. So I’m back.

What I wanted to talk about today is something that I’ve pondered over for a long time, and my thoughts on it have evolved and changed over time. I was walking my puppy and my boyfriend’s dog this morning, puffing through all the snow we got over the weekend, loving the warm day, thinking about an interview with Tori Amos (my favourite singer/songwriter) that I watched yesterday. And lightning struck my tired/in-the-thick-of-puppy-training brain.

She said in this interview about one of her songs, “Crucify is based on not being a victim anymore. You stand there wondering why somebody can’t acknowledge you. Can’t say, ‘Hey, job well done. I support you.'”

Being something of a Tori Amos nerd, I’ve watched her interviews multiple times, but not because I’m a creepy obsessed fan. Rather, because she’s an incredibly wise woman who I almost always learn something from. And this time was no exception.

As usual, hearing this made me think of my biological family – my mother, my sister and my father. I’m really not ready to climb that mountain at the moment, so I’ll just say here that they’ve never been accepting of who I really am, and have never been supportive of me in dealing with my illness (depression.) I have wondered, countless times, why my “family” has never been able to accept me, support me, be there for me. Sure, depression is scary for a lot people who don’t understand it. I get that. Sure, I’m a really sensitive person who walks around most days thinking about the poems and stories that are floating around in my head and becoming a better horseback rider rather than the state of my bank account (or whatever it is that most people think about). But I’m their daughter, their sister. Aren’t you supposed to put your own shortcomings aside and just be there? You hear about parents who were previously homophobic stepping up and supporting their gay or bisexual kids. So why not this? Why not me? Am I really so unlovable? Am I really not worth it?

And it’s hurt. It’s hurt for a long time. It’s made me angry. It’s made me cry. It’s made me distance myself from them and keep them at arm’s length for a long time, and I still keep them there. Because if you can’t love me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best.

I’ve been told many times, by my sister and her super-duper enlightened friends mostly, that I’m a “poor me.” Someone who pities themselves. A regular at the Victims Anonymous meetings. And because I used to believe that my sister knew everything and was always right, I internalized that message completely, wrapping it around myself like a blanket, deciding wholeheartedly that it was a truly disgusting trait that was worth hating myself over, and I needed to change ASAP. Just stop it already, Megan. God. Seriously. Why are you so pathetic? Look at all the good things in your life! Why can’t you just step up, get over yourself, grow a pair, stop being such a whiny little. . .no, I shouldn’t be mean to myself. And I’m not being mean, not really. I’m just disciplining myself, the way you would a child. . .

It’s a good thing most parents don’t treat their actual children the way I used to treat myself

So the conundrum that I had for a long time about my so-called self pity was this: Was I actually pitying myself, or was I simply seeking an acknowledgement for all this pain inside myself? Because for as long as I can remember, I have just hurt. Hurt deep, deep inside in a way that has made me push people away, that has made me afraid, so afraid, of being hurt more. Wasn’t I just seeking a name for it all? A reason? An explanation, an answer? I didn’t think I was feeling sorry for myself, or wanting anyone else to feel sorry for me, either. Once I started exploring the feeling, gently probing the wound inside, I realized that what I wanted, what I needed, was for my biological family to say to me, “We wronged you. We made fun of you when you were hurting, we tried to toughen you up when you needed understanding. We tried to change you into something you weren’t meant to be. We didn’t accept you AS YOU ARE, with all your glorious talents and shortcomings. We have never loved you unconditionally. We tried to make you into someone who is just like us, instead of accepting and loving you for being just like YOU. We never celebrated your uniqueness. We feared it. We pushed you away when you needed us the most. We never encouraged you to follow your passions. We tried to repress them. We called you a liar and a self-pitying mess, when all along you had a real illness. We are so, so sorry.”

Basically, I wanted to know that I mattered. Just as I was. Not if I changed in this way and that way, but just as ME.

But I realized, slowly and painfully, that this apology will most likely never come, from any of them. Even if they know deep down that they were in the wrong – it will never come. It’s beyond their capabilities, beyond their EQ (that’s emotional quotient, not intelligence quotient.) Maybe someday it will, but I doubt it. And the thing that I’ve slowly been realizing in the past couple years is that, ultimately, it doesn’t matter. Sure, it would be nice, but cancelling your membership to Victims Anonymous doesn’t come when everyone who has ever wronged you suddenly comes to you on their knees, apologizing and crying and feeling really bad. It comes when you decide to move on with your life in a good direction anyway. Despite all of it. Choosing for those things – memories – to not control my life anymore. That no matter what happened, no matter how big or how bad or painful or terrible or traumatizing – I will not be owned. I will not be conquered by any of it. I will not be bested.

I would love to say this this realization has come from all my super awesome internal strength, but a great deal of it has come from my boyfriend’s presence in my life. We’ve been together for four years as of this past Hallowe’en, and though it was rocky for awhile there, we’ve both grown a huge amount. We were basically really selfish and immature when we started dating, but the relationship that’s grown is something that’s become incredibly healing for me. I know he loves me exactly as I am – and he has seen me at my worst and at my best. We live together and consider each other family, and with the sense of belonging that I’ve gained from this, I’ve slowly been letting go of the hurt of never being accepted by the family that raised me. It’s easier to let go of something you never had when there’s something good and real to replace it.

So, was I a self pitying mess? I don’t think so. Needing acknowledgement that your thoughts and feelings are valid by the people who (are supposed to) love you is normal and healthy. And so is letting go of that need for acknowledgement when you know it will never come.

I think it’s about self love, self acceptance, self celebration.

0 notes