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taliawells · 5 years

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Flash Points

this got long, so grab a seahorse and saddle up

what are some of your favorite tropes?

It is such a cliche, but I really enjoy the fake married trope. It’s so goofy, especially when they go to great lengths to prove how ~~in love!!~~ they are. Bonus points if they are very grudging about this, but end up becoming a little bit soft and closer together. I love a found family moment, and arguably they can be deeper and just as, if not more important as other familial connections. It was a choice, and that can make all the difference. Another that gets me every dang time is when a pair always call the other by their last name only. In an emotional moment when one is injured or in dire peril, when the other just cracks and uses their first name while pleading with them to hang on just OOFs right to my heart.

do you have a favorite character you’ve written, in or outside of shiver? if so, what makes them your fave?

I really enjoy playing Talia, simply because she’s different from the types I’ve played most recently. Talia is dauntless and ruthless, but there’s a vague nervous energy deep down and she just shrouds herself in apathy and indifference. Internally there is so much more going on. She is strong and would happily throw down if the situation would call for it, but she clings to an icy poise that’s called from her for all of the different roles she has to play. She has never felt more vulnerable and yet, more like herself on land since she’s been able to take a step back and reevaluate. She’s strong and seems unwavering, but Talia is really figuring out who she is and what she wants currently, happily putting royal duties on the backburner for now... especially when a familiar face popped back up that doesn’t have her wanting to go back to the sea quite yet.

The character I played before Talia was Stella Rosenthal. She stuck with me through five iterations, and seems much more fragile than she is. She is an entirely soft human that aims to be a bright spot in a darkening world. Her strength is in her softness, and it’s almost unexpected with how gentle she is. Talia seems unbreakable, but she’s more vulnerable and guarded. Stella was a museum curator + conservator and really, really cared about inclusiveness and accessibility throughout all facets of her life. She aimed to be a walking safe space but really struggled with her own mental health at times. Stella tried to surround herself in layers and layers of light, but she struggled in immense darkness and some trauma until she started working through it. She’s deaf in one ear and her other isn’t the greatest, and I had 8 ear surgeries of my own growing up so she’s near to my heart. She was a ray of sunshine and Talia is a ball of fire. Stella is the type to Rick Roll her beloved in sign language on their wedding day, while Talia will flip the general public the bird and elope.

do you prefer writing with small casts of characters or large ones? what are some of the pros and cons?

I think I tend to like things somewhere in the middle! Of the two, I would say that I tend to gravitate towards things on the slightly smaller scale. I love a good small group where you really feel included and integral to the plot, where all of the characters and layers of the bigger story intertwine and intermingle. I tend to like that as a more casual environment with friends I’ve written with before or friends of friends. I truly love getting to know people and their characters, but I’ve been incredibly picky about truly small groups. I’ve had to miss out on one due to real life issues, and it was rough having everything move forward and then those connections carried over into future projects with the same people. If not done right, it can end up being very cliquey and that’s not a good time for anyone. I’ve been burned by that before. Some roleplays are truly massive, and that can be so great for a busy time of the year where you don’t feel like you’re holding everything up if you can’t get online for hours and hours. I was advanced literate elite on a different website back in the day (I am so freaking old) but it was just deluded pretentiousness disguised labeled good writing -- it wasn’t. Bigger ones tend to move more quickly which can be exciting, but it is so so easy to fall between the cracks and hard to feel heard. I really dig the size of Shiver and the different areas of play.

what’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done in the name of outlining/worldbuilding (timelines, research, maps, spreadsheets, etc.)?

There was a time where I really got stuck in a rut writing bios, and I was creating yet another dark academia/murder roleplay back in the day. I had a cast of 15 characters and ended up settling on a skeleton roleplay but I wanted to come up with a fun little twist. I wanted to leave things incredibly open and let the writers sink their teeth in and really breath life into the characters. The roles were all named after flowers/plants (big shocker, bless you Jess for putting up with weekly Plant Rants with Rian™) but there were strong hints of digging a little deeper than that. Be it the symbolism of the flower, some pulled from the Victorian language of flowers, the colors, the locations. Basically, there was a lot more to the label should the writer want to dig in, or it was just simply taken at face value. It was fun seeing how it was interpreted!

The skeletons themselves were about a thick paragraph, with the bulk of things being presented in Two Truths & a Lie and a playlist for each character. What was true and what was false was left up to the writer, with the option of swapping out two of the three for a different interpretation. Three songs were to be added to the five given, but more could be subbed out. Snippets of the lyrics for each could be pulled for that section, or a quick few sentences about what the songs (and even a few classical pieces chosen by the writers) either meant to the character (a memory, etc) or what they said about them.

It was just a different way of presenting starting points for characters and a lot of fun trying to figure out what were the truths and lies throughout the game.

share the last paragraph you wrote you’re most proud of.

I can’t decide between these two so yikes

The ocean could be cold, so terribly frigid in the concealed, inky depths. How many placid surfaces disguised stormier waters that hid debris pulled to a final slumber upon a sea bed? There were wrecks, warnings. Something had happened here. Good, bad. Wrought upon nature by mercurial seas or upon souls by its inhabitants. There were distinct memories of explorations of such ruins, and the most vivid cast itself upon Talia’s eyelids when she closed them. Spires of shrapnel, warped wood of vengeance that had been wreaked. They were almost skeletal, and she had so curiously flit between the carved curves. The mast had toppled and bent at unnatural angles, and she figured her own rib cage looked as such currently. An irregular thud was beating so fervently against that cage in an internal collision that threatened to sink her very being. Would the bones break in the newly found fragility of a human body, or would the heart beat itself to a mangled pulp in a valiant ploy for release? Would the state it was in even matter, as Talia never intended to offer it up for the taking? One day she would love her kingdom and she would be loved in return. That would be enough.

Her heart had slumbered in darkness. A place as cool, calm, dark, as unyielding and eternal as the saltwater they were pulled from. It could be as serene or tumultuous as a rolling storm – ready to pull down and trap anyone that dove too deep into those depths. One person had learned the angles of a sole beam of light and learned how to reflect it just so. One person emanated light into her dark so thoroughly and Talia held it as close as she could without immolation. She was but a jealous moon. A detached, mysterious beauty that pulled beings to her like the tide before sending them ebbing away. The hand she held was warmer than hers, and Evikaia would always hold that sentiment. Before her was a radiant beauty, though dimmed by something she couldn’t place, but Talia would turn her face towards her own personal sun until she went blind. She wanted to observe and absorb every shred of warmth he had offered until her bones were drenched in his rays and sun-bleached; washed ashore and finally free of the seaside sepulchre.

describe your current muse’s physical appearance using only one, over the top sentence.

She’s got electric boots, a mohair suit, you know I read it in a magazine.

A crepuscular girl with a crescent smile, a moon’s pull to your demise under inky waves, waves & waves & waves of dark and auburn — a red sky warning daring you to step closer.

if you had to write a novel about one of the characters in or outside of shiver, which character would you choose and why?

I would have to go with the meyrs! I’m so excited that we have some more in these waters, but I’m so excited to see how everything plays out in the group. The group, and different writers and perspectives, would just add more nuance and ideas than I could ever do justice solely. I think it would be so exciting to explore the different kingdoms and how different people cope with courtly life. The plot of the Amethyst leaving and all of the regents pulled from the deep to unite on one task (with their own motivations or lack thereof [[Talia]]) just offer so much to explore. I think this is much better suited for a group dynamic and I’m thrilled to be a part of it.

Writing one for Talia would be rather interesting as well. She has a lot of conflicting emotions about her role as Regent and the royal court. She could have had an easy, glamorous life with Vik at her side as her betrothed, but she felt she had too much potential and the opportunity for power was far more enthralling than a vapid existence. The trials were such an extended period of heightened emotions as she laid claim to what she wanted, or thought she wanted. It’s so starkly juxtaposed to her own time on land in the 1970s, and she still has a bit of flair for that era. She had never, and has never felt as free and happy since but duty called and she was bound to answer. I’d probably have to choose writing Talia living her best life while exploring her dynamic with Vik.

#shiver.gang #––– like wildfire or a summer storm swept in ; muse.❜#I originally typed 'seahaw' but stopped myself #you're welcome

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jessikahathaway · 6 years

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Into Eternity Part VI

Sorry that I am a slut for this story.

Please enjoy?

I DON’T OWN THE GIF!!!

Pair: Park Jimin X Reader

Genre: angst, smut (kinda sorta riskay beach fun), drama, action

Words: 7,638

“A holiday?” you asked as you and Jungkook walk down the corridor near the barracks one morning. Jungkook nods quickly, smiling in childlike delight.

“Yes, there’s a palace by the sea that his Majesty and Jimin went to every end of summer. He hasn’t gotten to go for the past few years as his father’s health took a turn, but now there’s a chance that he could go again. But he’d never unless prompted by you, my Lady,” he stated.

“Are you asking me, in this time of turmoil, to drag my husband to a palace that may or may not be safe for a holiday? Near the ocean?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Well, we’d all go with you and ensure your safety no matter the consequences for us but-”

“Would there be swimming involved?” you asked, trying not to sound too giddy at the prospect.

“Absolutely, my Lady,” Jungkook grinned.

“Well,” you started, rubbing your chin. “I guess I could use my persuasive skills to get Jimin to leave here for at least a week.”

“I have every faith in you, my Lady,” Jungkook bowed before heading out to the training field.

You waved and watched him leave before smiling to yourself. A beach! A holiday near the ocean! Excitement coursed through your being. Swimming in the river near your childhood home had been one of your favorite pastimes after sneaking past your jailer of a mother.

The soft sound of the water trickling past, the feeling of the cool liquid moving across your skin. It soothed you like no other, and it could prove for some fun in this slightly melancholic castle. Jimin had been starved of fun the past few weeks, seeing as how his coronation is getting closer and soon he will be in charge of an entire kingdom.

Then there is something to do about that pesky witch that has been trying to kill you...

“You seem to be deep in thought,” a voice echoed through the hallway. You turned sharply on your heel and stood face to face with Hoseok. Your blood ran cold at the sight.

The man who brought news of the Forsaken taking over villages to the south, and the news that your death needed to be swift. It didn’t help that your introductions hadn’t gone very well either...

You were at breakfast the morning after your incident. Everyone was jovile and happy around the table. Jimin making jokes, Jungkook and Taehyung being children as per usual. Namjoon and Father Jin were in a deep discussion about something very interpersonal. It was far too early for that in your mind, but they seemed entertained enough. Even Yoongi had made it for the meal that morning. Something that Jungkook and Taehyung said was unheard of.

You were plating up your food went the room went silent.

“Is this your bride, Jimin?” Hoseok’s voice was cold. Taehyung stood and so did Namjoon.

“Yes, Hoseok, I’d like you to meet Y/N,” Jimin said, standing up and placing his hand on your chair. Biting your lip you kept your head down. Suddenly your food wasn’t that appetizing.

“She’s still alive is she?”

“Hoseok!”

“Brother, that’s enough,” Namjoon said, moving towards him.

“I’m sure she’s already aware of her standing, you’ve no doubt told her everything,” he commented.

“Please, join us for breakfast,” you offered the seat next to yours. Hoseok raised a brow before scowling at you.

“Are you aware of the destruction and agony that is being spread because of your still being alive?” he snarled. You pressed yourself against the back of the chair.

“Enough, that’s not her fault,” Taehyung demanded.

“We’ve done things a certain way for years. Once she’s dead, the line is done. She’s the last one. Highness, she is the last one of the damned bloodline. The witch will leave us alone once she’s gone!” Hoseok cried.

“If you think that a horrid woman such as that would leave us alone, after all the tormenting she’s done throughout the years, because of her death... Then you are a fool, Hoseok,” Father Jin declared. Hoseok chuckled softly before grabbing an apple that sat on your plate.

He bit into the red flesh of the fruit and marveled at its sweetness.

“I’ve just spent weeks, fighting with those damned Forsaken... Watching women, children and good men die because of her. Hundreds of women more beautiful, more intelligent and more worthy wait to be your bride, Highness. This mere farm girl, is she truly worth all this suffering?”

A sob broke from your throat as you stood taking the verbal abuse.

He was right...

“Hoseok! That is enough,” Jimin growled. Hoseok raised his eyebrows and then sighed.

“Terribly sorry, my Lady,” he sneered, before waltzing off. The sound of the crisp apple ringing in your ears.

And now, he stood before you... Alone...

“Good morning, Hoseok,” you said, trying to keep your composure.

“My Lady,” he bowed slightly. You tried not to scoff, it was an insult.

“Is there something I can do for you, Hoseok?”

He smiled before pinning you against the wall, knife at your throat and his hand covering your mouth. Frightened tears sprung to your eyes. You wanted to wipe at them, but his strength was unmatchable. You swallowed and felt the sharp edge of the weapon graze your tender flesh.

“I simply want for you to be aware of how easily I could kill you. The only reason you are alive right now is because the Prince would no doubt hang me for your murder. And right now, I still have a purpose for my life. But once that purpose is fulfilled, you will die,” he snarled. “I won’t let one life stand in front of thousands of others.”

You huffed behind his palm, struggling to breath. He wasn’t lying, or merely trying to scare you. He meant every single word coming from his mouth. However, his words were not was chilled you to your very bones. No, his eyes were what made your knees tremble and heart clench.

They held so much fear... and a frightened man was capable of many dangerous things. If anyone found the two of you like this, he would no doubt be locked up for a few months. Lose his standing with the court and much more, however here he was...

“Now you can scream and cry to Jimin if you so desire, but I will find you no matter the distance. Because I care for the people you think so lowly of. Unlike you I grew up with nothing, and I will go into the ground with nothing. So, do as you wish. Just remember, I decide when you die... because Jimin won’t do it himself.”

With that, he released you. You scrambled up and bolted down the hallways as fast as you could move. Your heart hammered in your chest so hard that you thought it would certainly burst.

Coming around a corner you collided with, none other than your husband.

Jimin had just come from a meeting to find you, and here you were.

“Y/N, I was just coming to find you. What is-”

You cut him off by throwing your arms around his shoulders tightly. Jimin stopped and felt your trembling form. He moved to question you, but you simply held on tighter.

“Don’t ask me, please,” you whispered. “Just hold me.”

Jimin nodded slow before wrapping you up in his arms. Letting the question sit on his tongue unasked.

* * *

That night you looked out over the field with mute interest. Jimin didn’t ask what had frightened you so, but you knew he was curious.

Hoseok hadn’t come near you, keeping his distance at dinner. However the mere sight of him had your heart pounding hard in your ears. Although he acted as if both transpired between you two. As if, just hours ago, he didn’t have a knife to your throat.

You felt warmth wrap around your waist.

Jimin pressed his head against your shoulder, keeping you locked in his arms. “I don’t know what happened, and don’t feel as though you must tell me. But you worried me, I thought someone had hurt you,” he murmured.

“I didn’t mean to alarm you,” you apologized. Jimin shook his head, soft tufts of hair brushing your skin. It felt like a warm breeze caressing your neck.

Warm breeze...

The beach!

That’s what you wanted to speak with him about before Hoseok...

“Jimin?” You asked softly.

“Mmm?” He answered, obviously tired.

“I was thinking, perhaps we need a change in scenery,” you suggested. Jimin’s head popped up from the crook of your neck.

“What?”

“Well, it’s getting colder and autumn is almost in full here... but I just remembered I hadn’t gone swimming all summer. I adore the water, and-”

“You adore the water?” He asked, smiling at you.

You nodded back quickly. “Yes, I would sneak out all the time when mother was asleep to swim in the river,” you confessed.

“Naughty girl,” Jimin teased. You bit your lip and turned in his hold.

“Do you think we could go? To the ocean?”

Jimin sighed and seemed to think for a moment. “I don’t see why you couldn’t go for a week to our Palace on the Albion sea. It’s warm this time of year, should be perfect for swimming,” he promised.

You... Not we...

“I’m not leaving without you,” you said. Jimin huffed and let you go, walking to the railing.

“I have much to do before my coronation. Plans to make, people to meet with... a witch to kill,” he growled. You walked behind him and rubbed his shoulders too ease his anger.

“It’s too much stress on you, you’re going to make yourself collapse at this rate! For your own health, come with me,” you urged, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Darling I would enjoy nothing more than traveling to the seaside with you, but I have responsibilities,” he reasoned.

“You know, I’ve never been one for those bathing gowns that women use to swim. I much prefer just discarding all the unnecessary fabric and swimming freely,” you grinned. Jimin tensed against you.

“Don’t start,” he warned.

“I’m merely stating a fact,” you said, removing yourself from him. “Well, if you’re certain you can’t go then I have no doubt that Jungkook and Taehyung would accompany me to the palace. For the week. Alone.”

Walking back to the bedroom you heard Jimin whisper, before quickly making stride with you.

“Perhaps I could have the advisors do the heavy lifting this week. After all, I haven’t been to the beach in ages as well,” he agreed.

You smiled, silently cheering in your head. “If you think they could manage,” you goaded. Jimin just shook his head and sighed in defeat.

“There’s no winning against you, my dear,” he chucked.

“I’d say my win is in our best interest,” you smiled. Jimin nodded before heading towards the bed. You turned to shut the balcony doors when you saw it... However small it was, fading against the darkness of the forest. Your eyes were not mistaken.

The same orange light from days ago...

* * *

Loading up the carriages had taken a majority of the morning.

Father Jin, Hoseok and Yoongi were staying to ensure that the Castle was protected in Jimin’s absence.

You hugged Father Jin tightly, knowing a week without him would be dreadful. He patted your hair, letting you hold him tight.

“Be good, I will be praying for your safety,” he whispered.

“I’ll be back,” you grinned. “But I can’t promise my behavior will be that of a Lady.”

Jin coughed and then let you go. “I will certainly be praying,” he sighed.

You waved to Yoongi as you climbed into your carriage. Hoseok gazed at you, making your heart stutter painfully. You hadn’t told Jimin, and you didn’t intend on it.

For now, you were safe.

Jimin pulled himself into the carriage beside you and shut the door quickly. You raised an eyebrow at him, knowing he wasn’t supposed to be riding with you.

“Highness,” You tutted.

“Is it so wrong that I wish to accompany my wife?” He asked.

“You know that’s not the worry,” you reminded.

“It’s not a long trip, I’m confident that we can ride together,” he stated.

A knock came on the carriage door. Namjoons face greeted you as he looked in.

“Damn,” Jimin breathed.

“Your Majesty, I believe your carriage is the next one up,” Namjoon said. Jimin huffed and a pout made its way onto his face. You struggled to not giggle.

“I’m going to ride with my wife for this trip,” he said.

“Highness,” Namjoon warned.

Jimin groaned before turning to you. “Apparently I’m being called away, my dear. I'll see you in a few hours,” he said. Leaning close he place a soft kiss to your lips.

You froze in shock. Jimin had been incorporating small displays of a affection to you since your incident. Gentle hugs, soft kisses. It was wonderful...

Letting your mind wander you found your hand gripping his sleeve. Jimin smirked against your mouth before pulling away. Your cheeks stained pink and lips wet, you were incredibly enticing.

“Y-you know, a few hours will be an awfully long time without you,” you breathed. Your husband grinned, pressing his head against yours.

“Shall I give you plenty to think about while I’m gone?”

Jimin leaned in once more, before someone cleared their throat. He stopped and found Namjoon standing outside the carriage with pink cheeks. You laughed and placed a sweet kiss to his face.

“I think I’ve got plenty to think about,” you grinned. Jimin sighed and moved away from your form.

“I can’t wait to walk along the ocean with you, I’ll see you in a few hours,” he murmured before opening the carriage door once more.

You smiled as Namjoon scolded the Prince as he walked towards his carriage. A chuckle escaped you as Jungkook approached your door. He knocked and you nodded for him to open.

“Would you mind if we shared the carriage, My Lady?” He asked.

“Not at all, please,” you said, gesturing to the seat across from you. Jungkook sat down and soon after, the vehicle jolted.

“Are you excited?” Jungkook asked a few minutes into the ride.

“More than you could know,” you breathed, watching as the castle became smaller behind you.

“Have you been to the ocean before?”

“No,” you shook your head. “But I’ve heard so many stories of its beauty I can’t believe I’m going.”

“I’m glad we could go... I’m not sure when Jimin will get to see it again,” Jungkook whispered. You looked and saw worry on the guardsman’s face.

“What troubles you?” You offered. Jungkook bit his lip and shuffled in his seat.

“His Highness... I’m worried once he is crowned King, that he’ll forget that he’s also many other things... not only a King, but an older brother. Friend and fellow man of arms... a husband,” he whispered.

“A father,” you noted. Jungkook coughed and then looked at your stomach in panic.

“My Lady, does Jimin know? We mustn’t let word of this travel you know, it’s already so volatile a situation-“

“Jungkook, Not now. But in the future, ease your frantic thoughts,” you laughed softly. Jungkook panted and rested his head back against the seat.

“My Lady I thought my heart was going to stop,” he huffed. You just smiled and shook your head.

This trip would be good for you.

All of you.

* * *

You awoke to Jungkook gently nudging your arm. “My Lady, we’ve arrived!” He announced.

Lifting your head you saw the setting sun, and a vast amount of open water. Your heart hammered in your chest at the sight. You were so entranced that you didn’t notice Jungkook’s departure. He went to clear his throat when Jimin appeared.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw the ocean... it feels like forever,” he breathed.

“It’ll be good for you to relax, Highness. I’ll help Namjoon with the luggage and horses. Why don’t you and Lady Y/N go inside to take tea?” Jungkook suggested. Jimin nodded and moved to help you out of the buggy.

“Darling, we’ve arrived,” Jimin said, reaching for your hand. You tore your gaze away from the breathtaking view of the ocean and leveled your eyes with his.

He was a vision in this moment.

Hair ablaze from the setting sun, his eyes sparkling in the burning light. He was reaching for you, and you couldn’t help but acknowledge how right this felt. To be here with him. You realized that it could be anywhere with Jimin and it could feel like this.

Because if he was there, at least you had him.

If everyone in the world abandoned you... except for him... the world would still shine just as bright. Because he was the sun in your eyes. The light of the day and promise of a brighter tomorrow.

The words you ached to say sat on the tip of your tongue as Jimin helped you out of your seat and onto the different terrain. Your shoes sunk slightly, making you lean on your husband for support.

“The ground is softer than at home, my dear. Be sure to not hurt your ankles,” he warned, wrapping your arm around his.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“Jungkook suggested we go for some tea, what do you think?” Jimin said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Sounds enjoyable. But I think I’d prefer some coffee,” you jested. Jimin laughed and lead you towards the castle entrance.

It was so different than the other castles you’d been in while with Jimin.

The Palace of the Kingdom was bigger and of a deeper color stone. Almost black with age, holding an antique air about it.

Taehyung’s castle was also different. Sharing similar type of architecture to the Royal Palace, but clearly newer and of lighter stonework.

However, this Castle was breathtaking. Almost pure ivory it gleamed in the setting sun. You were astounded by its brilliance, and you wondered if you could make this your permanent residence.

“It’s made from the sandstone from a quarry three days travel from here. It is said this castle pre-dates my ancestors rule. The locals of the village to the West call it a Sand Castle. Isn’t that humorous?” Jimin said as the doors opened for the two of you.

If the outside had impressed you, than the inside astounded you.

The most luxurious of fabrics hung from large windows that lined the corridor. Huge chandeliers with glittering gems dangled from the ceiling. You looked around and noticed the sunlight coming in through the glass panes like a flood of flames.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, unable to comprehend the beauty before you.

Jimin looked at you as you were bathed in the twinkling afternoon light. You were focused on the view before you, but Jimin thought you were easily more worthy of his attention.

Your hair flowing from your shoulders in delicate curls, cheeks twinges pink and the light of the sun warming your skin. The fabric of your dress shifting in the glow of the atmosphere around you.

Everything about you was enthralling, and he couldn’t believe you were real. Standing before him wearing a ring that bound you to him for life.

Even though you’d gone through so much as a child. Being told you were meant for him from a young age. Not being allowed outside often and being punished when you weren’t absolutely perfect. Withstanding the criticism of marrying into a society based on lineage, of which you had none.

Living through the torture of being alone in the palace. Relying on Father Jin and your own mental strength to continue on each day... staying with him even though he hadn’t been faithful or attentive.

Giving him so much love and affection. Being understanding of his situation, and working with him to get out of it all together.

Having a witch trying to murder you, and then coming back from it twice...

You were incredible in his eyes.

And more than perfectly suited to be his wife, his Queen...

The mother of his future children?

With you, the possibilities didn’t seem so daunting anymore. Because at the very least, you had each other.

Jimin wasn’t sure if what he felt for you was love, adoration or just comfort. Comfort in knowing that there was someone beside him, and that he wouldn’t be alone in his castle either.

“Come, let us get some coffee,” Jimin suggested, taking your hand and leading your towards the many corridors the castle had to offer.

You looked around in awe at the passing paintings and many windows that showed views of the ocean.

Everything here sparkled in the evening sun. You found yourself being dragged into a cute little parlor room that had been decorated with elegant turquoise satin.

The slipper sofa sat against the wall angled so whomever decided to rest there would see the sea in all its splendor. Jimin brought you to the glass French doors that sat encrusted with delicate gold lacing.

This Palace screamed elegance and luxury. Never in your life did you imagine being married to the Prince would bring you to a place of such glamour. You thought your life would be spent, locked away from the world. Bringing children into the world for the purpose of continuing the throne. But, life decided to give you the sweetest of apples instead of a sour lemon.

And he stood there, basking in the sight before him...

Your sweet apple.

“The ocean breeze is lovely this time of year, not too hot to cause you to perspire, but not so cold to give you a fever,” he sighed.

“I’m glad we could come,” you smiled.

Jimin nodded. “Me too... I remember playing down on the beach with Father,” he frowned. “Unfortunately, my father won’t ever be able to see this palace again. His state is far too feeble to travel. It pains me to know his last memories here are fleeting ones from my childhood.”

You wrapped your arm around his and leaned your head on his shoulder. “Memories are still as such, I’m sure he doesn’t regret his time here with you and your mother. When we return to the Royal Palace, we will tell him of the fun we had here. And he’ll remember his memories here with you. I know when I’m old and weak in my bed, I’ll remember this place with such fondness,” you assured. Jimin brought you close and held you in his arms. Your words were so sure, so full of attentive affection for him that it made his heart swell.

You were far too good for him. Someone who was willing to kill you in order for an old tradition to be fulfilled. In order to protect, but at what cost was that protection?

He wasn’t going to be trading lives.

Because you can start doing atrotricious things with those kinds of thoughts. Eventually, human life holds no value any more... Jimin didn’t want to turn into that. He wanted each life to be precious. To hold weight in a room and discussion. People weren’t merely pawns on a board for him to be the decider for. They had pathways to travel, and sometimes paths intertwined.

Like yours and his.

Paths intervening and changing, twisting into different directions no one ever thought they’d go. Jimin surely thought this marriage would be the worst part of his life. However, you were kind and good. Your heart pure and courage prevailing over his stubborn exterior.

Jimin was cradling you in his arms so carefully, you wondered what he was thinking... As if you were a precious memory to him already. Something tangible in his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. Gently brushing your fingers through the nape of his neck, you smiled as you finally felt like you weren’t alone.

* * *

It was incredibly dark...

So dark and you were running. Running so fast that you couldn’t feel your legs anymore. You had to move, and quickly.

Your stomach throbbed as you looked down, you saw the swell of a babe resting in your womb. You were panicking. Someone was trying to hurt you and your baby.

Fear drenched you like a cold fabric, clinging to your mind as you continued to run. You had to go faster, to get away from the danger. You didn’t dare turn to face said terror. Certainly your heart would fail if you did.

Suddenly, you tripped and landed on your side.

Pain erupted from your body and you lay still in the brush. You struggled to lift yourself up, being heavily pregnant. There was shouting, someone saying your name.

“Y/N! Darling, where are you!?”

It was Jimin!

“JIMIN! I’m here!” you cried, throat feeling sore and scratchy. Footsteps came quickly, then Jimin’s head of blonde hair greeting you.

“My darling, are you alright?” he asked, cradling your face. You sobbed and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“They’re trying to catch me,” you whimpered, holding your stomach. Jimin examined your side and then moved to help you up.

“Hurry, this way my love,” he urged. You followed him blindly, moving towards the darkness. Jimin’s hand was cold in your own. But that didn’t matter, because he was here.

Your mind was delirious from exhaustion. You just wanted to rest, body aching from the fear and exercise.

Jimin lead you into a small hut in the woods, nothing like the palaces you’d grown accustom to. “Here, my darling,” he offered, helping you sit. You did so, gently easing yourself onto the bed in the corner of the one room.

“Jimin, she’s coming,” you whispered. He held your face in his hands and kissed your forehead. “She wants our baby,” you sobbed.

“I’d rather die than let that happen,” he swore to you, gripping your hand. You nodded and felt a sweet kiss go to your lips.

“Jimin, I love-”

“Gah,” Jimin gasped. You looked down and saw a blade protruding from his stomach. Jimin’s lips were stained red from his blood. He collapsed to the floor and there stood Hoseok behind him, blade dripping crimson.

“I warned you,” he whispered.

“Jimin!” you cried, falling to his side at once.

“Why couldn’t you let me do it?” he asked, chest heaving with effort to inhale and exhale.

“Do what, my love?” you asked, applying pressure to his wound to keep him with you just a moment longer.

“Let me... kill you... Now we all suffer, because you are selfish... Not only me, but our child as well,” he rasped. Placing his bloodied hand on your stomach, he looked pained. However, not from his wound. “I’m sorry my child, I must go before you.”

“Jimin, please! You promised me we’d do this together! You promised!”

The room went dark and you heard sharp cackling from all angles. As if you were being suffocated by the sound. Your heart thrummed in your ears as you felt a deep contraction in your stomach.

Were you going into labor?

“W-Who’s there?”

“She who has been betrayed by you, and those before you...”

The voice was like ice drilling into your skin. Sheer terror erupted from your frame as you tried to find a way out. To get away, to be safe.

“My darling...”

Jimin’s voice whispered.

“Why couldn’t you let me do it?”

“Jimin, please where are you?” you begged.

“Enjoy these moments, my sweet. Because they will be fleeting in the end, and so will your life. Fleeting, and ending soon... Sweet dreams, Y/N...”

* * *

You awoke screaming.

Jolting awake in bed you felt tears burning in your eyes. You throat was raw and you couldn’t stop your trembling.

You couldn’t stop screaming, the fear and that voice... It was still in your mind and it wouldn’t leave. Only you screaming kept it at bay.

Jimin flew up in his position beside you in a flustered mess. “Y/N? Y/N what’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

He wrapped his arms around you and tried to comfort your cries. You held your head and tried to get the damned voice from your mind. All you wanted to do was drift into blackness, somewhere the sound of the ice wouldn’t follow.

“Shh, my darling, shhh,” Jimin spoke right in your ear. You froze and stopped howling in fear. Jimin rubbed your back and you turned to look at him. His eyes were bleary with sleep and he was exhausted.

“J-Jimin?” you asked, looking at his lips.

They were slightly pink and chapped from sleep... But there was no blood.

“I’m right here,” he assured, pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

“Oh God,” you sobbed, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. “I thought I’d lost you.”

A strong cage locked around your waist. Jimin was holding you to him as you cried. All you could see was him on the ground with blood pouring from his wound. The mere thought of it made you want to gag. You moved away from his and held his face, checking for wounds. You moved your hands over his body, making sure that he was alright.

“He stabbed you,” you whispered, pressing your hands against his stomach. Jimin looked at your shaken form next to him, and he felt so helpless.

“Who, my darling?” he asked, holding your hand gently.

“He who wishes for my end,” you whispered.

“MY PRINCE? LADY Y/N? IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT IN THERE? WE COULD HEAR SCREAMS FROM THE BARRACKS!”

Jungkook’s voice echoed from behind the door.

“We’re alright Jungkook! A nightmare plagued her, go back to sleep. I will soothe her,” Jimin called back.

“OF COURSE HIGHNESS! REST ASSURED LADY Y/N! WE WILL PROTECT YOU WITH OUR LIVES!”

The image of all those you’ve come to care for, bloodied and unresponsive on the floor flashed before your eyes. You tightened your grip on Jimin, unwilling to let go of him for even a moment.

“Y/N, what did you dream about?” Jimin asked, brushing a hand down your spine.

“The witch...”

Jimin’s face grew dark. “She won’t come near you, not if I have anything to do about it.”

“Perhaps she doesn’t need to... Maybe, it would be easier if I-”

“Hold your tongue, you will not utter that sentence,” Jimin warned.

“Jimin-”

“I won’t have it!” Jimin cried. “No! She doesn’t get to win, I won’t allow her to. For once, I’m happy. For once, I feel like I have someone who will listen to me not because I’m a Prince, but because you care about my feelings... I don’t want to lose my only support I’ve ever had... I also, don’t want to lose my future Queen... Most importantly, I can’t lose someone whom I’ve only just began to uncover,” he panted.

“Jimin, all of these people... And those not even born yet,” you swallowed thick. “All of them are at risk because of me. I can’t sleep with their lives on my conscience.”

“We’ve bent to her will for far too long. Father Jin is correct. If we believe your death would stop the years of heinous torture she’s procured, then we are truly the fools. I won’t let her win,” Jimin promised, wrapping his hand around yours.

A sour taste was left in your mouth as you discovered your defeat.

Jimin noticed your uneased and lifted your hands from your lap in into his own. “Y/N?” he asked, lifting your hands so you were palm to palm before your faces.

“Yes?” you responded softly.

“Do you know what the bands on our fingers mean?” he asked, pushing his ring finger against yours softly.

“That we are married, bound together by God and-”

“Not only that, darling... But we have duties to one another. I as your husband, and you as my wife. We can’t fulfill those duties to one another if you’re dead. I’m not through with you yet,” Jimin teased. You felt heat rush to your cheeks.

“Jimin,” you breathed.

“You need to rest,” he urged, laying you down gently.

“I can’t sleep,” you whimpered. “That dreaded voice... It will follow me.”

“I’ll sing to you then, until you are asleep,” Jimin whispered.

You bit your lip before nodding. Jimin began to hum a simple lullaby, something you remember your own father singing to you as a fitful child.

The nostalgic melody swirled in your brain, and soon you were drifting back to sleep...

* * *

The following days passed in a blur. You were haunted by your nightmare, making you nearly unable to enjoy the ocean and the beautiful sights Jimin was enthralled with. You tried so hard to make sure that he came here with you, and now you were acting disinterested in everything he suggested!

What a horrible wife...

You did manage to go with him to the small village and meet with a couple people of the Council there. They cooed over your beauty and Jimin simply brushed it aside. The people here were known for loving luxury and holding things of beauty and grace to the highest standard.

But, they were kind and showed great amounts of hospitality.

While on your excursion, Jimin managed to get you to smile and laugh with him while exploring the woods.

He remembered you mentioning that you were a bit of an adventurer back in your childhood. Of course, Jungkook and Namjoon weren’t thrilled by the idea of you both running off into the woods unattended and quickly found you and redirected your adventuring to the city streets.

Returning back to the castle on the final night was bitter sweet.

You hadn’t been able to go swimming the entire time you were there due to high tides and a little storm that passed through two days prior.

However, tonight the water was calm...

You slipped on your silk nightdress and some slippers in the moonlight. Jimin was sound asleep in your bed. He’d gone out hunting with Jungkook and Namjoon that morning and came home dead tired.

Careful as to not disturb him, you pulled open the door and made your way down the stairs.

The castle was silent at night, not even the sound of animals outside were there to fill the deafening silence. But you heard the call of the ocean.

The gentle waves crashing on the shore sang out to your deprived heart as you quickly made for the beach.

Climbing over the large rocks and treacherous dips and sharp angled stones your heart began to race.

When was the last time you’d been swimming? Had it been so long that the sensation of climbing over such dangerous areas now filled you with fear? A spray of sea water hit you in the face and you stood in awe of the beauty. You couldn’t believe how thrilled you were to feel the ocean.

Water of any form called to you in such a way you couldn’t explain.

Dropping onto the damp sand you removed your slippers and tossed them aside.

The waves pushed and pulled against the shoreline, dampening the sand present. The moon and stars glimmered against the water like gemstones in jewelry. Although this sight was worth so much more than mere money.

Just being able to stand here, and witness nature... It filled you with so much gratitude. You were thankful to be alive so that you could experience things like this. To feel the water rushing over your toes and making you giggle.

Walking into the water you felt it encasing your legs. The temperature was pleasant if not slightly chilly. The weather was turning colder up north, so no doubt the same was occurring here. But for now, the water was perfect. Looking down you saw your nightdress darkening with the water.

You quickly dove under the waves, feeling the liquid caress your body and fill your heart with such joy. Breaking the surface you pushed your damp hair away from your face. Placing your head back in the water you looked at the bottom with interest.

However, soon your eyes began to sting because of the salt in the water. You pouted as you rubbed your eyes. The river never had that kind of effect on your eyes.

“I might like the river better,” you muttered, splashing the ocean in punishment.

“You know, it didn’t get to choose whether it wanted to be salty or not,” a voice carried through the night air.

You jumped and turned quickly to cover yourself.

Jimin stood on the shore, his arms crossed as he watched you.

“H-How long have you been standing there?” you asked, biting your lip in embarrassment. This was incredibly unladylike.

“I heard you leave the room. I was curious as to where you were going, so I followed behind you,” Jimin stated. You heard a small amount of anger in his voice, something that confused you.

Until you thought of why you’d be leaving in the middle of the night without telling your husband. A smirk grew on your face. “Did you think me to be having an affair?” you questioned, laughing at the end. Jimin flushed and quickly rubbed his neck.

You knew it.

“Of course I wouldn’t think so lowly of you,” he stated.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Jimin,” you accused. Jimin huffed and crossed his arms in defiance.

“I am not jealous,” he declared.

“Surely not, I a merely jesting with you,” you chuckled. Jimin scowled.

“Don’t make me remind you whom you married,” he warned.

“You needn’t remind me, I always know who I married,” you smiled, brushing your hair from your face, flashing him your ring.

“You had better,” he stated. You shook your head before walking closer to shore.

“Would you like to join me?” you asked, walking just close enough for your dampened nightdress beginning to show. Jimin bit his lip and cleared his throat.

“I think you should come out of the water, you’ll catch a cold,” he coughed. You raised an eyebrow.

“Are you certain you wish for me to get out? These are my night garments, and there is nothing underneath this dress,” you warned. Jimin went slightly pale before glaring at you.

“That’s it,” he growled. Pulling his shoes off he stormed towards the water. You squealed before quickly swimming away from him.

“I was only teasing!” you cried from laughter, watching as Jimin chased after you in the water.

“I’ll teach you to tease me!” Jimin yelled, amusement hidden in his tone.

You both waded through the water, evading and attempting to capture one another. Your face hurt from smiling and laughing. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so light and bubbly.

You tripped up over a rock and were sent tumbling into the water backwards. Jimin was quick to grab your hand and pull you close to his body. You were panting from pushing yourself through the different medium. Jimin was tired also, soft puffs of breath hitting your face.

“You’ve caught me,” you announced, smiling. Jimin blinked slow, gaze flickering from your eyes then lower.

“So I have,” he pants.

“Shall you take a prize for your capture?” you whispered.

“I think I might,” Jimin confirmed before leaning forwards and pressing his lips against yours.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back slowly. You’d never been kissed like this before. The only other time you recall having such a passionate kiss was when Jimin aided you with your lust potion.

His soft, plump lips worked against yours as he began to move backwards towards the shore. You followed blindly, letting the waves and your husband guide you from the water you so loved.

The two of you fell to the ground, Jimin landing in the sand on his back. You falling on to of his torso, legs hooked over his hips. He stared up at you, eyes lidded and lips slightly swollen from yours.

It was silent except for your harsh breathing and the waves behind you.

Jimin brought his hands to your damp thighs and rubbed warmth into them. You shuddered at his touch and smiled down at him.

His hair was wet from the water, his skin sparkling in the moonlight. His hands traveled higher until they were locked with yours as he sat up. Jimin looked at you, shining under the light from the sky.

He could feel something burning in his blood. As if he couldn’t keep his mind straight while looking at you. All he wanted was to kiss you, make you submit to him and to have you all to himself. It was incredibly selfish, but he wanted to lock you away for only his eyes to view. Only his lips to kiss.

Only his love to have.

“I’m-uh, I’m not sure what I’m feeling right now,” Jimin confessed, easing your hands around his shoulders. You smiled and kissed his forehead gently.

“Until you’re sure of your feelings, then we can stop. For right now, sitting under the starlight with you makes my heart fill with joy,” you smiled. Jimin wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you tightly.

“The nightmares that plague you, I am worried for your health,” Jimin sighed into your skin. You shuddered at the sensation, and because of the nightmares.

They had only gotten worse while being here.

And everytime you got closer to Jimin, it was as if the nightmares punished you for feeling so elated when he held your hands. It was like not being able to be happy without fear of doom befalling you later on.

“I-I... I’m sorry they frighten you so,” you tried to soothe him. He chuckled and pulled your face away to look at you.

“I believe in this situation, I am supposed to be comforting you my dear.”

You shook your head. “No,” you stated. “I don’t want you to have to worry about something as trivial as nightmares. It’s a childish fear anyways.”

Jimin frowned at your statement. “If it frightens you, then I don’t think it is childish. Even grown men and women are allowed to be afraid... Fear isn’t something you can outgrow.”

You sighed and brushed your wet hair off your face. Jimin marveled at the sight, unconsciously taking a strand between his fingers. You watched as he twirled it around his fingers and it fell against your chest.

Jimin’s eyes followed the strand and he moved forward, moving you on your back. You stared up at him as he sat with his hips against yours and face hovering over your lips. “I know this one emotion well,” he breathed. “Desire.”

He brought his lips to yours again. You were powerless to his advances, becoming pliant under his hold. All you wanted to do was please the man atop you. If that meant giving him your maidenhood right here on this beach then you would do it.

Everything about him intoxicated you. He was like the sweetest of wine in the middle of summer’s heat. A refreshing burn that left you light in the head and weak in the knees. A vibrant blush on your cheeks.

Jimin hadn’t seen you in such a state of undress in a long while, and he almost forgot how beautiful you were without those suffocating gowns. He scowled at the thought of the corsets that he mentioned the last time you were intimate.

He found you wearing them less, however you obviously weren’t comfortable in your own skin yet. Jimin knew the feeling well. He never felt like he looked desirable. However, you seemed to be enjoying his body at the moment...

You mewled when he pushed his groin against yours while he shifted up to get a better angle to your lips. He broke away for just a moment to heave in a large breath of air before diving back into your deadly kiss.

This was him...

Giving up...

He knew now, anything you’d ever want he’d give it to you. As much jewels as you could carry. Enough drink and food to make you soft under his touch. As many dresses and clothing items to fill fifty closets.

As many children as you would bear for him.

All of it he would give to you, because this feeling in his heart was so strong. So pure that he didn’t want it to ever leave. It felt like a part of him; you had become a part of him.

Somewhere along the way, you had stitched yourself into his heart. And now losing you would no doubt kill him.

“Jimin,” you breathed, bringing him from his thoughts. He set his forehead against yours and panted on your lips.

“Yes, darling?”

“I-I think we should go inside,” you whispered. “We’re both damp from the water, we’ll catch our deaths out here. Perhaps a warm bath for us both?”

“Shall we share the water, Y/N?”

You squeaked and turned a bright shade of pink before shaking your head quickly. Jimin just laughed and brought you both to your feet. “It was merely a suggestion my Lady, however you are correct. If we stay out here much longer I don’t think that I will be able to keep you pure,” he huffed. You bit your lip before interlacing your fingers with his.

“Come, before the chill takes us,” you smiled.

Jimin nodded and ran off with you towards the castle.

Everything was perfect in this moment.

If only it could stay that way...

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patchi-chi · 6 years

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😏 cr: @baekhyunee_exo

Imagine going on a vacation trip with Baekee and visiting places all around the world together. He even wants you to tag along whenever he/they[EXO] have schedules outside country. He wants to always share his experiences with you.

I imagine this as you secretly taking photo of him, noticing how beautiful he looks with the sea at the background.

You two were admiring the sea and the feeling of the salty wind touched by the ocean, just spending time basking in silence occasionally looking at each other and throwing small talks about life, work, health, the scenery, you two. Until you just slowly felt everything in the background fade but Baekhyun. While staring at his back on you and him admiring the sea, you thought of how contented, grateful and estatic you are feeling having to spend and create memories with the man you treasure and love the most. Smiling to your self, you felt your chest get filled with warmth, joy and peace. You want to share this feeling with him, hoping he feels the same way with you as your eyes starts to soften more looking at him. You want to remember this moment and that was when you thought of taking a picture of him with the sea on the backgound. But in time with you actually taking the photo, Baekhyun felt that you were staring at him so he turned around and noticed you with your phone up in your hand about to take picture of him.

*After taking the photo*

You were slightly surprised by him turning around and giving a playful smile at you. You slowly put your phone down your face, peeking at him. You noticed Baekhyun's eyes and smile turned soft and what looks like admiration.

"You knew?" You softly asked, slighlty embarassed being caught gawking at him.

"I felt someone was staring at me." Baekhyun lighlty chuckled, amused at what was happening and your embarassed state.

"I wasn't staring." You defended.

"Oh really?" He taunted, momentarily turning to face the sea and looking at you again to add, "I occasionally turn around a couple of times to look at you but you were just standing there staring with dumb smile on your face. I bet you didn't even notice me looking back at you." He finished as he started standing from his position and sofly patting his jeans to remove sand that might have sticked its way to it.

Hearing this, your eyes widened. [Were you really gawking at him?] Defending your pride, "I do not have a dumb smile!" slightly frowning at him.

Baekhyun was already slightly facing you and hearing this his eyes widened and laughed. [That what was you caught on in what he had said?] He knew you were not confident with yourself and constantly anxious about it whether he could find another girl prettier than you, slimmer girl cause you knew you were chubby, smarter one cause you think you are dumb and the list of insecurities and anxieties goes on. He was shocked and cannot believe what he was hearing when he first heard these insecurities and anxieties of yours. It was for another story but it was the time when everything piled up, he noticed that you were constantly asking his whereabouts, calling him in surpring time of the days (even one time while filming a live show). He was frustrated and agitated by this until he learned what was up.

As he knew that he had said something that'll trigger this. Baekhyun chuckled as he slowly made to you. "Yeah you have a dumb smile" he replied as he stopped right in front of you. Looking down at you with his equally dumb smile and you staring at him with your jaw slacked not expecting him to say that.

"You have the dumbest smile that I love" He ended as he caught your chin in his thumb and index finger and his other hand making its way on the small of your back, pulling you to him and removing the remaining space between you two. Baekhyun slowly inched his face to you and captured your lips in his with a smile.

His lips were soft and refreshing as the wind you feel on the seaside as you feel their movement with your lips. You then smiled after a while and chuckled in the kiss. Feeling this, Baekhyun's smile widened and his grip on you tigthened. His hand holding your chin was now on your neck keeping you from moving away from him. You don't care if someone sees you two. All you want from this is to cherish and keep this moment, hoping your overflowing feelings of warmth, peace, contentment and love reach him as you felt the same feelings from him consume you, answering your doubt that he indeed feels the same way with you.

You want to remember this moment when your love for him grew and you fell harder to him, much harder than the previous days. A moment that even a photo cannot contain. A moment that'll be the start of a new kind of love for you two.

_____________________________________________

Additional:

While walking hand-in-hand to where the others were,

"What were you thinking while staring at the ocean, Baek?" you asked as you look at your feet checking where you were stepping.

Baekhyun looked at you after you asked this and smiled to himself as he drives his attention forward again. He clutched your hand tighter, "Life." he answered briefly. You "hmm"-ed at this still focused on your steps. He looked at you once again. "A life with you" he added.

While Baekhyun kept on walking, he felt the pull on your hand as he noticed you halt your movements and was staring at him. Your eyes were wide and jaws slacked as you look at him. He just equally stared at you with confusion in his eyes. As no one was moving and breaking the silence, Baekhyun was about to ask you what was the matter when you leaped at him and softly gave him multiple punches on his chest.

Chuckling at this and trying to catch your hands, you replied. "That was cheesy, you granpa!" Understanding that you were embarassed, he finally caught your hands and hugged you. "You were thinking of me, right?" He said while hugging you. Your were shocked at this, trying to know how he figured you out but in the end just planting your face in his chest more and gripping his shirt at the back instead.

"Don't worry, I feel the same way with you. I hope my feelings reached you too." You sobbed at this, overwhelmed by your and now his love now combined together in you.

"I love you" he said as he planted a kiss on your head and hugged you tighter. "Starting from now on, let's walk together and move forward with each other at our side, always and forever." [As we now have one same path to follow leading to our future] he thought. Baekhyun was a cheesy and romantic man, you know this even if he constantly refused to believe this.

You hummed at this which made Baekhyun chuckled. He didn't know that even with him being full with his feelings for you that he can still love you more with each passing moment.

He hopes and wants to treasure this moment with you. Keep you in his arms forever.

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

I was just getting emotional over my love for Baekhyun while looking at this photo. And baam this shitty imagine was made (on the spot may I add)

#baekhyun #baekhyun smut #byun baekhyun #baekhyun fluff #exo

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metinthehallway · 6 years

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2 beaches

You already know it’s sad bitch hours! I wrote this a few weeks ago after seeing this pic of harry. It’s a lil bit of Dunkirk harry and idk how over everyone is of that but here I am loving every bit of it! It’s 3.5k words of mostly dialogue telling a story and it’s a bit flowery. Hope you guys like it!

Elise sits on the splinting wicker chair, pinpricks of flecked white wood scratching along her thighs. She’s come from her present home in the city all the way to her childhood one, 2 hours south into the countryside. The late afternoon is filled with an intense orange, sunlight washes over the fields of wheat before meeting the horizon. The sun stretches as far as it can before it ducks below the earth. With a light grimace and rubbing at her legs, she turns to look at the woman next to her, wearing a near identical pair of eyes only more worn, more misted. Elise’s face instantly melts into one of comfort.

Her grandmother, Sarah, is a familiar presence, having raised Elise for the better part of her life. On this little strip of land containing rolling hills and bushels upon bushels of poison ivy, coupled with a rocky stream winding through the woods and the largest weeping willow you’d ever see, Elise found herself. She found herself throwing her body down the hills with her friends, seeing who could reach the bottom the fastest. The sleepless nights spent itching at her skin, waking up her grandmother to have her rub the special homemade salve she always had onto the agitated hives, gently singing her to sleep. The rocks she collected that were slowly weathered down by the quick moving stream, hurrying on its way to get to the seaside. The weeping willow where she learned to climb, weaving herself in and out of its large body and hiding between the curtains of greenery when life seemed too much to handle.

The day they had to cut it down, Elise cried.

Sarah cried even harder. Elise could hear it that night throughout the house, accompanied by the wind whistling and the rain hitting the roof.

Sarah kept only a piece of wood from the graveyard of branches. A jagged piece, about 6 inches wide, with the initials, “H.S. + S.J.”, lay towards the back of her dresser. It lives next to a book, a book that’s never been moved from its spot for as long as Elise had been there, collected so much dust it’s turned gray. Elise had never asked. The memory of it seemed too painful.

The two have been chatting here and there on the rickety front porch, allowing the sounds of the country side to fill the pauses and smooth out their words. The glass jug next to them clinks with fresh ice as Sarah pours her second glass of lemonade with shaky hands. Elise reminds her of her health, to take it easy on the sugary drinks as her body isn’t the best filter for her sweet tooth anymore. Sarah just scoffs, one that turns into a harsh cough, says, “This body carried 4 children, it can carry another glass of lemonade.”

Elise smiles, although it’s a tight one. All she does is care but her grandmother has always been indifferent about the inevitability of aging, staring into the future with a mask of almost boredom while her body deteriorates. Sarah’s mind, on the other hand, is as sharp as ever.

Gazing up to the empty sky where Elise used to watch strings of willow leaves swing in the breeze, she’s reminded of the carved, rotting wood sitting atop a dark cherry dresser. As the sun sets and streaks of pink and red are thrown across the sky, Elise feels an overwhelming urge to ask about it. She’s getting older and with that, the fear of going to sleep one night and waking up to a world without her grandmother in it.

She asks about the piece of bark from the willow because if not now, she never will.

“Who’s H.S.? I know who S.J. is. That’s you. But who do the other initials stand for?” Sarah pauses and blinks once, shock written on her face and glass of lemonade stuck halfway to her open mouth.

Cicadas move in the tall grass, calling out for another in the suspended air. Elise gauges the reaction as Sarah moves to put the cup down on the porch, shutting her mouth with pursed lips. She’s almost positive she won’t get an answer, until Sarah moves to get up from her cushioned rocking chair. Elise jumps up to help her, thinking that she’s just going to leave the question hanging and turn in for the night. Sarah quickly waves her off, grunting a bit as she hobbles into the house.

A little deflated, Elise sits back down as the sun disappears almost completely. If she unfocuses her eyes, she can see the faint lights of the fireflies nipping about the grass and woods surrounding her.

A few minutes pass and the screen door creaks open, causing Elise to startle and kick her drink, causing it to spill all over the worn wooden planks. She hadn’t expected her grandmother to come back. Swearing lightly, she picks up the glass and raises her head to see Sarah turning on the porch light, an unfamiliar object tucked in the crook of her elbows, folded over like she could keep it safe. Like it needed to be kept safe.

As her grandmother steps further into the yellow light cast by the dingy bulb, Elise’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. She recognizes the black leather book only without all the dust piled on it, the same book she’s never seen moved from the spot next to the jagged piece of willow.

Sarah shuffles over to her designated chair, rocking back slightly and she puts all her weight onto the paisley cushion. Clearing her throat, she opens the book. The splitting sound of the leather spine indicates it hasn’t been opened in years. With unsteady hands, she pulls out a frayed piece of paper from somewhere in the middle, small and rectangular. It’s the color of sand with black ink on the side facing Elise, who is unable to read what it says.

Sarah closes her eyes, sparse eyelashes fluttering onto her gaunt cheeks. “You know when people ask you if your house was on fire, what would be the only thing you’d run through the smoke and flames for? This photograph is that thing.” Opening her eyes and meeting Elise’s, she hands over the fragile piece of paper.

Turning it over carefully, as if the soft night breeze could snatch it out of her grasp, Elise first glosses over the ink on the back. The date reads out, “25th of April, 1939. H on the beach.” Turning it over, she finds herself looking into the sepia toned eyes of a young man, no older than 20, handsome as can be with curled hair flying about his face, surely from the sea breeze in the background. The look in his eyes bore into Elise’s, holding a serious yet mischievous glare. The rest of his face is in a relaxed state while he squints head on into the lens of a grainy camera. The tall grass behind him caught in mid sway has her thinking she can hear the ocean waves if she tries hard enough. Tearing her eyes away, she carefully watches her grandmothers expressions change. She’s never seen such an open book.

On Sarah’s face, multitudes of emotions come and go, passing over like clouds in the sky, the most prominent of them; anguish, nostalgia, happiness. Love. Unparalleled love. Whole heart love, the kind that seeps from your skin and onto everything you touch, spreading like the sea in that old picture.

In awe of this beautiful photograph and part confusion from the sudden openness her grandmother is showing, Elise asks an important question, the only question: “Who’s H?” Sarah’s mouth quirks up in the smallest of smiles.

“Harry,” she says, the syllables of his name cracking, like she hasn’t voiced it in decades. It sounds bittersweet on her tongue, like lemonade, though more on the sugary side. “Harry Styles. A man I loved for a very short time, and a man who left for a very long time, the bastard,” she laughs but the sound isn’t very humorous. “Just had to go and be the first to enlist. Had to leave me here on this side of the war.”

Before Elise can say anything, protest that she really doesn’t need to hear this story because of how hurt the older woman sounds, Sarah shakes her head. “I’m going to tell you about Harry. I’m going to tell you about the willow tree, the beaches. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I never even told your grandfather. How could I? I would have ended up comparing the two and that would be unfair to everyone. Fantasizing about Harry while in the arms of my husband. It was easier to try and just...forget. At least until they had to cut down my tree.

“When I met Harry, it was September of 1938. It had turned out to be an Indian summer, not cooling down until mid October. I sat underneath the shade of the willow tree, fanning myself with some paperback I’d stolen from my fathers collection. I saw Harry riding his bike, basket full of plucked berries. As he rode by we made eye contact and even from the safety of my tree trunk, I could see the green of them, greener than the curtain of leaves draping down my arms. He didn’t look away and neither did I, until he hit a rock and flew off his bike, berries flying everywhere and splattering red and black on the ground like a crime scene. He tumbled a bit onto the grass not too far away from me.

“I remember gasping and it turning into laughter. Whole belly laughter. I remember him looking up from his skinned knees, sea soaked eyes opened as far as they could in surprise. I remember his smile growing wider and wider until I thought his face was going to break in half. I’d never seen such pretty teeth in my life. I know it’s a weird thing to say. It was even weirder to think. They were neat, white little blocks that shone with his happiness. I fell in love with that smile right then and there. It was the first time I made him laugh and I told myself that it certainly was not going to be the last. I got up and introduced myself. I held out a hand for him to take, to help him up. I think I miss his hands the most.

“He said his name was Harry and he was out and about getting some berries for his mothers pie, said he got a bit lost and didn’t quite know where he was. I remember that single brown curl sticking to his forehead in the immense heat. I offered him some refuge, leading him inside this house.” Sarah waves an arm, countless bracelets jingling as she gestures to the familiar structure around them. She continues.

“This house has stood here forever, you know. It’s been in our family since it was built. If I concentrate really hard, I can still hear the weight of his steps on the floorboards behind me. I led him to the kitchen and helped him clean his bloody knees. His pants were absolutely ruined, ripped and stained with dirt. He wanted to act like a strong man, like it didn’t hurt and that he didn’t need any tending to because he could handle a little pain. But once I laid a washcloth on the broken skin, he whimpered. He was sweet and soft inside, like a pastry.”

At the sound of a sharp coughing fit, Elise is torn out of her storybook haze. Rushing inside to grab a glass of water, she hands it to her grandmother, who gratefully takes it and gulps half of it down in one sip. Sarah takes a breath, regains her composure and closes her eyes, launching herself back into the nostalgia.

“He left that afternoon with no berries and a promise that he would be back, that Friday, for a proper picnic underneath the willow. My parents came home that night to my giddiness. They kept asking what had made me so restless but I didn’t tell them, couldn’t tell them. Wanted to keep Harry a secret to myself for the time being. He seemed like a mirage, something I had conjured up in my head short circuiting from the head. I Just excused myself up to my room. That night, I took out my last sheet of canvas paper and sketched the outline of his eyes to what I could remember. I remembered thinking if I never saw his eyes again, I would at least have this.

“That Friday, he came to my house with a bouquet of wildflowers. Knocked on the door and introduced himself to my parents. Said he was a friend of Sarah’s. I loved the way he said my name. We sat in the privacy of the draped leaves and talked for hours. Ate so many blackberries I thought my stomach would turn into one. We took turns throwing the sweets into each other’s mouths and, of course, he was much better at it. They stained his two front teeth. It was the most endearing thing I’d ever seen. After that there were many more days spent together, at the base of the willow. It was smaller then. Younger.

“One day, before the first snowfall in November on a particularly cold day, he took out a pocketknife in his right hand and put his other cupped to the tree to hide what he was carving. I was laughing, tugging at his hands trying to see what he was doing. When he finally pulled his hand away, I stopped in my tracks. He kissed me then and time unfroze. That winter was full of them. The kisses. Full of more than kisses. Full of love and tenderness and nights by the fireplace under heavy blankets and the weight of his hands on my body. His hands were beautiful. Wide and blunt, a single rose ring adorned his middle finger. I used to kiss it when he got sad or frustrated, trailing my mouth up his arm, to his shoulder, dragging my lips across his neck and finally landing on his mouth. They were very pink, bowed like a dolls. I thanked the heavens everyday I got the chance to taste them.

“Winter faded into spring. The leaves of the weeping willow grew back and it became our spot again. The photograph in your hands was taken on the beach near his grandparents house that spring. They were well off and could afford a camera and, well, a private beach. He looked so beautiful pressed up against the endless ocean, I had to capture it. I wish it could’ve showed how green his eyes were, especially next to the tall grass.”

Sarah stopped for a second, opening her eyes and contemplating her next words. Elise was completely enticed, soaking in every single word down to her bones. She didn’t want to forget this vulnerable moment. All around them, the night came alive. Above them, the stars shone silver and circled their heads like halos. In the light of the moon, as well as the dim yellow one on the porch, Elise watches her grandmothers eyes well up.

“Isn’t it funny how he loved me on this beach, but died on another, miles away, a year away?” She sniffled once and that’s all she allows herself. She continues on.

“Harry took it upon himself to immediately join the war. He was one of the first waves. Sure, they were drafting everyone but he really wanted to fight. Said he was getting nowhere in his fathers small textile business. He wanted do something right, he said. When he told me, I didn’t speak to him for a week. He would come by, sit under the willow while I sat on my bed. As it was getting closer to his departure I knew I had to suck it up. This was bigger than us, as much as I didn’t want it to be. I wanted to forget about it all and stay here until the war was over. I climbed up the tree and showed him my favorite branch that was perfect to lay on, the same branch I used to sit on all the time just thinking about life in its entirety. We spent those whole two weeks before he left together, never leaving each other’s sides.

“It was the first time I’d seen him cry. It was in my arms, in his bed, the night before he was supposed to leave. He said he loved me so much it hurt him. He said he would write to me every goddamn day. He said he needed me to wait for him. I’ll never forget the shine of the ring in the moonlight. He proposed to me, tears in his eyes. I said yes. What else would I say? No? Of course not. No matter how much I hated his choice to leave, it would have never been greater than the amount of love there was in me, for him. All throughout the night the only words said were, ‘I love you’. In between kisses, in between sighs, roaming into the air and disappearing out the window. I ran my hands through his hair, I licked his two front teeth, I kissed his ring, his fingers, I stared into his eyes and found myself wanting to dive into them for the millionth time. I was hoping, hoping so hard that it wouldn’t be the last time his hands held me.

“He left the next morning. I never saw him again. We didn’t even have a body to bury. He sank somewhere off the coast of a beach in France. Dunkirk. I felt my heart shatter, the pieces floating up my throat, stabbing my lungs, cutting up the inside of me. The pain was just too great. I cried for what seemed like a lifetime. I slept with this picture in my hands every night. I started to forget how green his eyes were. Whenever I looked at the ring on my finger, I wanted to throw it in the stream and have it be carried into the ocean and the currents would bring the ring to him, somewhere in the deep. But the ocean is far too large. I wore it, for years after, telling men I was married, that I was so, so lucky. The war ended in 1945 and whoever was left, beaten and battered as they were, came home. I was bitter. How come they all survived, how come all of those troops on Dunkirk survived, but not my Harry ?”

Elise’s breath shudders. The intensity of her grandmothers words were too much. “Grandma..” she trails off. She doesn’t know what to say. How could she? “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t imagine. I don’t want to imagine.”

The older woman nods her head, a small and tired smile slipping onto her face. “These are the memories I would try to forget. I look back on them many ways,” she admits. “In anger, in sadness, in all-consuming love. Don’t get me wrong. Time lessened the hurt. If only microscopically. I took off the ring eventually and found your grandfather and created what would soon lead to you. I loved Harry so much. I still do. It’s unfair that he stays in my mind as a young, vibrant man so full of life. While that will never be what happened. While I grew old. If I didn’t have this photograph, I wouldn’t even remember clearly what he looked like. It would be watery, whittled down to only the basics; curly hair, sharp jaw, face-splitting grin. I just wish I could remember the color of his eyes. I never painted in that sketch I made. Not that I could ever do the green of them justice. I know how much those eyes loved me. I just wish I could look into them one more time, you know?” She trails off.

Elise didn’t know. She hoped she never did.

Sarah shakes her head as if to rid herself of the indulgent thought. “I’m going to go to sleep. It’s getting late and I have to run into town tomorrow morning,” she announces while slowly standing up, her body cracking under the weight. She stops and turns to face her granddaughter. “Thank you for asking about the tree. About the initials. Nobody’s ever asked. I would have never told anyone. I would have carried him to my grave.”

Elise goes to place the picture of a young man, who existed a very long time before her, into her grandmothers hands. Sarah shakes her head again. “I want you to keep it for now,” she says. “The memories are fresh enough.” She turns around and walks through the same front door she walked through with Harry trailing behind, all those years ago. It seemed like it happened in a different universe.

So much love, Elise couldn’t even dream of it. She was drained from just listening to the story. The moon rose higher and higher in the sky and the wind was starting to rattle through the house in a familiar sound. Harry existed once in this house. He knew the nooks and crannies of it intimately, just as Elise does. The childhood home took on a new form, more solemn and full of shadows. As she tip toes behind her grandmother, whose arms are slung around the little black book, she ensures she climbs the stairs safely. As her grandmothers bedroom door closes, ever so softly, Elise wanders into her old room.

Falling into bed, she puts the picture of Harry standing up against her bedside lamp, bright pink just as young Elise liked it, the sepia colored rectangle a strange contrast to the loud color. As she slept that night, fragments of green, adorned by thick eyelashes, float in and out of her dreams. And she thinks she can almost hear the ocean.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #dunkirk harry #short story #honestly if you read this all youre a trooper #why do i always write harry in past time periods???#bc that bitch is timeless #kinda sad?? idk i tried to make it whimsical and nostalgic #not sure if i succeeded #anywho #writers on tumblr #my writing #harry styles au #harry styles fic #dunkirk au

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hahnandreassen5-blog · 6 years

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How To Choose The top Property (And greatest Location)

Because moving to Indonesia, many people have got asked me if I’ve utilised Airbnb even though here, and what my own activities ended up staying in rooms as well as private villas leased in Airbnb Bali. The fact remains, I’ve scheduled you'll find evening of my own keep for upwards of two months employing Airbnb. Maybe it's a single previous night soaring out on an early day airfare, scheduling an inexpensive area at the beach front and also obtaining a complete rental property to rent for any 30 days, making use of Airbnb to find a accommodations within Indonesia is really amazing. That is why I really like Airbnb. Professional Hint: When you’re likely to go to Indonesia, whether you are keeping a hostel, Airbnb or maybe a elegant lodge, I can’t emphasise enough just how crucial it is to own decent travel insurance * particularly if intend on mowing the lawn or even scooter! 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phanfictioncatalogue · 7 years

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Mermaid/Merman AU (3)

Links Last Checked: September 12th, 2022

part one, part two

Caudal (ao3) - DumpsterDiving101

Summary: The cave has two exits. One, a hole in the ceiling, wide enough that Phil could see the stars glitter at night. The other exit was through the pool in the middle of the cave, where they’d come from.

The siren leaned against the cave wall a few meters away, tending to his wound. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but the damage was done. Sharks circled in the pool, desperate for a taste of the merman.

The hole in the ceiling was too high up, the walls too steep to climb. The sharks circled in the pool of water, ready to eat whatever comes their way. No way out. Phil was stuck, with no food, no fresh water, no hope to escape, and a siren who had tried to drown him not hours before.

(held him captive in my kiss) (ao3) - bokeae

Summary: Dan's a sadistic siren with fingers tinted blue and Phil's a silent coward who fears bravery.

i fell in love at the seaside (ao3) - larry_hystereks

Summary: in which mermaid dan is using his human legs for the first time and a curious phil is there to help.

Merman's Lullaby (ao3) - Avlon_Princess98

Summary: Dan Howell is a 18 year old boy, who on a summer trip with his friends and family. While he is out one night, he discovers something that could change his life forever. Phil Lester is a 23 year old merman, who just happens to see a young boy fall and decides it's fate.

Open Sea (ao3) - CanYourDan

Summary: When fisherman Phil accidentally gets a merman caught in his net, decides to nurse him back to health. The new science facility has other ideas, however...

Over Board - helloanonymouswriter

Summary: Phil is a merman who gets captured. He falls for the ship's servant boy. (Inspired by Pirates Of The Caribbean: On Stranger Tides)

Plenty Of Fish In The Sea (ao3) - MarriedPhan1234

Summary: When Dan and his family move into a new house on the beach, he has high hopes that he will be able to finally make some friends. He doesn’t have much luck at school, but things start looking up for him when he starts spending more time in the water. He can’t help but wonder if he and Phil will ever be able to have a good old fashioned Mario Kart tournament, though. Or, Phil is a mermaid and they become bff’s!

Remember To Light Your House On Fire - weakass-fuckboi

Summary: Phil is like the sea and a part of Dan has always belonged to the sea.

Siren’s Song - dont-tell-them-i-write-phan

Summary: Dan is a siren. Has been his whole life, but when he visits Phil for the first time some secrets come out. Maybe Dan isn’t the only one hiding something, though.

The Merman And The Fisherman - whinniehowelester

Summary: Phil is a fisherman who has had enough of a certain merman opening his net and letting his fish go.

The Siren - auroraphilealis

Summary: Once, a long, long time ago, Phil had heard a story – a strange story, so fantastical he hadn’t known whether or not to laugh, eyes wide and terrified amidst it all, - about a mermaid, a siren, who supposedly stole away the sailors of the sea to the bottom of the ocean, never to be seen again.

To Build a Home (ao3) - pixieheart

Summary: Phil Lester is a marine biologist who dedicated his life to protecting the ocean and its inhabitants. He loves his job, his little seaside cabin, his little one-man row boat, and his beloved gold fish Susan. When he finds a mysterious boy washed up on the shore, he’s determined to help Dan recover and find his way home… even if it means sacrificing everything he loves.

Washed Ashore (ao3) - Neurofancier

Summary: One cold winter evening, he meets a strange man by the sea.

You Can Trust Me (ao3) - HelloAnonymousWriter

Summary: Dan knows Phil's secret but waits patiently for him to tell Dan himself.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #au #mermaid #mermaid masterlist #merman #merman masterlist

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stretchemersonarchive · 6 years

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A House By The Sea

By Ceilidh Welsh

1. The House

The soft sound of waves drifts gently on the salty breeze behind my great grandmother’s house. Barnacled rocks and a driftwood-littered beach are just out of sight, there is just the sun singed grass and an expanse of sea that stretches to the horizon. There is a small koi pond in the backyard that has been long dry, just like the colorful buoys hanging on the cracking white fence. The house itself is light blue, two stories, plain. It is the last one on the street. Everything inside is faded and soft, filled with a thousand memories. Seven children have grown and gone, leaving a shell of peeling paint by the sea.

2. The Ghost

My GG’s house had a ghost. The moment I crossed the threshold I could feel it there, something extra, hanging in the quiet corners that you couldn’t quite see. I never encountered it myself, but it put me on edge whenever we visited. I refused to sleep anywhere other than next to my parents, and going up the creaky stairs by myself required bravery beyond compare. I didn’t mention it to my family back then, for fear of being brushed off and looked down on for being afraid of the dark. It wasn’t until my GG had passed away and my grandma was deciding what to do with the house that I discovered I wasn’t the only one who had felt something.

“Oh he’s always been there,” my grandma told me, “He used to sit on the edge of our beds.” I leaned in, eyes wide.

“Did you ever see it?” I asked breathlessly, giddy with the knowledge that I’d been right, not crazy for believing there could be something there.

“Oh yes!” she told me, “one night Tom saw him in the hallway upstairs. He thought it was our dad, come home from work. The next morning he said ‘Dad, why were you wearing that funny hat last night?’ and it turns out Dad was never upstairs at all.”

I couldn’t believe it- a real ghost. I was a little skeptical that my grandma had been leading me on to encourage my imagination, but when I talked to my mother, I got more confirmation.

“Did you ever see the ghost in GG’s house Mom?” I asked casually, expecting her to laugh or look at me funny.

“Oh yeah,” she replied, to my surprise, “Cousin Janie and I would sit in the attic and gossip while the family was downstairs. One night we were up there and I was leaning against the mirror, like this.” Here she paused to show me how she was leaning, with her hand out to prop her up.

“And then all of a sudden someone grabbed my hand, except there was no one there. I screamed so loudly and ran downstairs to my mom,” she finishes, laughing.

My mom and grandma weren’t the only ones to have experiences with the supernatural visitor either. In fact, it seemed like everyone had some sort of encounter. Cousin Jean got shoved out of the way when standing under a falling chandelier. Someone else came home to all the music boxes playing. Bookshelves were unscrewed, furniture was moved, and pages turned, all by the spirit that lived in the house. Since then, I’ve been more perceptive, seeing forms in the shadows, wondering if there are other ghosts in my life that I simply never noticed. Now that the house has been sold, and fixed up, I wonder if the spirit is still there, or if it vanished with the last traces of our family.

3. Beef and Broccoli

My sister and I were brought up very health-conscious. We weren’t allowed to drink soda, or even juice, and we learned to like vegetables early on, artfully prepared by my father. I could never understand the children who turn their nose up at anything green.

We were visiting GG’s house along with some of the cousins, probably for Fourth of July. There were so many of us that we barely fit in the cozy dining room, and we had ordered Chinese food to avoid cooking for the masses. I, being a hungry child, was loading my plate with a mountain of beef and broccoli.

“Wow, broccoli?” a big voice sounded above me. I turned to see my uncle Ben, a muscular man with tattoos and prematurely grey hair from his time in the Air force. His piercing blue eyes were crinkled around the corners as he grinned down at me.

“I don’t think I ate vegetables until I was 20! You’re pretty special aren’t you?” I smiled back. It was the beginning of my friendship with and admiration for my cool, rebellious uncle.

He drove a motorcycle, which I was not allowed to ride on, and watched superhero movies with me, even though my parents found the violence questionable for a young girl to be ingesting. I lived for it. I was in awe of the crazy things that he did, and totally taken by his charm.

One year, when he and his wife were renovating their house, my family went to visit them in the hotel they were staying at. My cousins and I ran rampant in the halls, riding around on a stolen bellhop’s cart. Under my uncle’s supervision, we were allowed to do whatever we wanted. One night he took all of us girls out to the pool for a night swim– a very exciting idea when your bedtime is usually before the sun sets. I was in the water splashing around in a blink of an eye, but cousin Emma was afraid to get in because it was dark. Ben picked her up and mock threw her in, and she screamed in terror and clung to him. He laughed, and threw her in, piercing shrieks cut off by the water. I thought it was hilarious at the time.

4. The Lighthouse

The lighthouse was not so special. It was small, a one and a half story dwelling with a light tower poking out the top, just off the beach at the end of GG’s street. The inside was a museum, preserved for the sake of tourism, although I don’t think there was much. No, the only appeal of the lighthouse was its location. During low tide, a path stretched from the beach up to the rock upon which the structure sat, but at low tide, that path was swallowed by the waves. Though it would only take a small boat to get to the island, it greatly increased its mystique. There was something about its inaccessibility, the possibility of being trapped there, that was so fascinating. My mom and I would go to the beach to search for agates, sifting through the damp pebbles, listening to the water, and observing the lighthouse. My grandma grew up with that lighthouse, and has always wanted to live in one. It’s isolated, but peaceful. With six siblings, I can see why she wanted that.

You could pay to spend a night in the lighthouse, to experience what life would have been like as a keeper. People did it for fun, though on stormy nights it must have been a bit frightening. This was a different kind of stormy night.

Uncle Ben’s mother, my Aunt Brenda, had taken my four cousins and their mother to stay at the lighthouse. It was meant to be a fun family trip, cozy and saturated with the quaint charm of the seaside city. Instead, the visit had been tense, and Brenda left halfway through the evening, leaving Tara and her daughters alone in the small building, wondering what there was to do in a tiny house surrounded by sea. The girls were just getting ready for bed when Brenda came home drunk from gambling, and broke her arm slipping on the rocks on the way up to the lighthouse. Her abrasiveness and disregard for them drove Tara to grab her kids and drive 6 hours down the California coast to my house, where I awoke to find them the next morning, much to my surprise. I like to joke that the lighthouse sent them to me.

5. The Ghost Returns

Later on in my life, as my great grandmother got older and passed away, things began to go missing from her house. Small things at first, like antique trinkets and silverware, but before long people began to realize they were gone. I, of course, immediately thought of the ghost.

It turns out Brenda’s gambling habit had run her dry, and she had begun to steal to pick up the slack. When confronted about it, she insisted that the items were owed to her, and anyway, they were already gone, family heirlooms traded for a few hours of fun at the casino.I wish it had been the ghost.

6. Raking Leaves

It wasn’t until Ben and Tara and their four girls moved to Berkeley to live next door to us that I found out that my uncle wasn’t the fun, relatable guy I had always thought him to be. First, it was his depressive episodes, driving him to take too much or not enough medication, eventually landing him in the hospital. Then it was the drinking. Then we found out that he was abusive. Now, when I’m raking leaves in the front yard and his car appears, the twinge in my gut tells me to go inside, for fear of what he might do. I don’t know him anymore. Perhaps I never did.

Acknowledgments

This essay would not have been possible without the help of my mother and grandmother, who were gracious enough to provide me with details that I had forgotten. Many thanks to them for sharing difficult information freely with me, despite my being young.

*Names have been changed for privacy.

Works Cited

“Battery Point (Crescent City) Lighthouse.” LighthouseFriends, lighthousefriends.com/light.asp?id=58

Klotz, Juelann. Personal Interview. 2 February 2018

Welsh, Dana. Personal Interview. 2 February 2018

#identity #memoir #vol3

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kmmastersproject · 4 years

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Master’s Project - Research:

To help me create the appropriate atmospheric tone for the fictional Suffolk coast in my animation, I researched what effect the coastline has on wellbeing. I read an article that states that people who live near the coast are less likely to develop mental health conditions such as depression and anxiety. A study by Exeter University showed that people who lived a kilometre or less from the coast were less likely to have mental health conditions. In addition, people with low income who live close to the coast are more likely to have less mental health conditions than people with high incomes who live further from the coast (Young, 2019). This suggests that the link between improved mental health and the coast is not affected by external factors, such as income, which could mean that the environmental aspects have a greater positive influence on our mental health.

The article also mentioned the importance of ‘blue spaces’ being made available to everyone, as this would greatly improve wellbeing in areas further away from the coast. In addition to this, the coast is described as a ‘fragile coastal environment’, stating that we should avoid damaging it when making the spaces more accessible to people for improved wellbeing (White, as stated by Young, 2019). This suggests that organisations are considering how they can preserve the environment, whilst making changes to it that can improve people’s wellbeing. I have not heard of the term ‘blue space’ before, so I researched its meaning. I found out that blue space refers to a natural area that contains water, such as the coast, rivers, parks etc. This term is often used with ‘blue health’, which refers to the positive effect these areas can have on wellbeing and health. The term may come from the organisation BlueHealth, which was created in 2016 to study the health benefits of blue spaces. Unfortunately, it ceased operations in June 2020, but ISGlobal, a Barcelona-based organisation who worked with BlueHealth, studied the data and deduced that blue spaces ‘reduce stress and perceived wellbeing’. The term is relatively new, and there is limited research about the topic, as blue health has only been recognised in the last decade, and scientific research into the area has only begun in the last 5 years (Sea Sanctuary, No Date). Notably, Defra published a recent statement from studies in the UK, that stated that the coast had a ‘therapeutic impact’ on the participants, even stating that they felt more ‘restored’ than visiting other blue spaces like parks, comparing the effect the coast had on them to the same effect as the woods or mountains.

Additionally, they commented on environmental changes, such as air pollution, flooding, and extreme weather, and also man-made changes, which they define as ‘inappropriate development’, which are affecting the coast and its surrounding environment (Beament, 2020). This tells me that environmental organisations are aware of modern changes to the coastline, and the impact this could have on these environments, and the subsequent effect they will have on the wellbeing of people.

I also did a small study similar to this in my RIPU project, where I asked people what location they preferred most, and why. On average, most people chose the coast in my study. I think that this would be important to include in my evaluation, as it links to the visual design of my project, because I want to create a coastal environment that evokes the feelings that people described that they experience when they visit the coast. I wanted to understand why people preferred the coast, and I am starting to consider that it may be due to the positive effects and wellbeing the coast provides over other blue areas.

I also found it interesting that the University of Exeter has invested in a project to research blue health and improve its effects in Europe and the UK (University of Exeter, No Date). This area interests me, and it will be interesting to see what the results of the project are when they are completed in the future, as they could be beneficial to creating modern solutions to improving wellbeing, but also to protect these environments.

Blue health accurately defines the area of research that I am exploring for my project. I want to understand how blue health can be found in a changing environment, with a key focus on the Suffolk coast. As this topic can be extensive, I think that by researching the positive and negative effects of changes to the Suffolk coast, particularly in Dunwich and its surrounding beaches, I will be able to analyse and review my research and its relevance to my work more effectively.

I think that due to the Covid-19 pandemic, my project has moved more towards promoting wellbeing and positivity in a changing coastline than the environmental changes at the coast, which was my original intention at the beginning of my project. My story elements have also changed, as they now focus more upon the character and her wellbeing, which I would argue has occurred due to current events. I think that my current narrative is more effective than my previous ideas, and I think that having a more positive film at the moment will also be beneficial for people’s wellbeing, as well as my own.

Bibliography:

Beament, E. (2020) Coastline visits boost wellbeing. Available at: https://theecologist.org/2020/jul/20/coastline-visits-boost-wellbeing (Accessed: 9 October 2020).

Sea Sanctuary (No Date) Blue Health. Available at: https://seasanctuary.org.uk/about-us/we-are-blue-health/ (Accessed: 9 October 2020).

University of Exeter (No Date) €6m investigation into ‘Blue Health’ – the positive effects of coasts and rivers. Available at: https://www.exeter.ac.uk/cornwall/research/impact/bluehealth/ (Accessed: 9 October 2020).

Young, S. (2019) PEOPLE WHO LIVE BY THE SEA LESS LIKELY TO HAVE ANXIETY AND DEPRESSION, STUDY SUGGESTS. Available at: https://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/health-and-families/mental-health-seaside-town-coast-study-depression-anxiety-income-a9127666.html (Accessed: 9 October 2020).

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hudsonespie · 4 years

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Abandoned Fiberglass Boats are Polluting the Marine Environment

Where do old boats go to die? The cynical answer is they are put on eBay for a few pennies in the hope that they will become someone else's problem.

As a marine biologist, I am increasingly aware that the casual disposal of boats made out of fiberglass is harming coastal marine life. The problem of end-of-life boat management and disposal has gone global, and some island nations are even worried about their already overstretched landfills.

The strength and durability of fiberglass transformed the boating industry and made it possible to mass produce small leisure craft (larger vessels like cruise ships or fishing trawlers need a more solid material like aluminium or steel). However, boats that were built in the fiberglass boom of the 1960s and 1970s are now dying.

Fiberglass helped bring boats to the mass market. SenseiAlan/flickr/ Chrysler, CC BY-SA

We need a drain hole for old boats. We can sink them, bury them, cut them to pieces, grind them or even fill them with compost and make a great welcoming sign, right in the middle of roundabouts in seaside towns.

But there are too many of them and we’re running out of space. To add to the problem, the hurricane season wreaks havoc through the marinas in some parts of the world, with 63,000 boats damaged or destroyed after Irma and Harvey in the Caribbean in 2017 alone.

Most boats currently head to landfill. However, many are also disposed of at sea, usually by simply drilling a hole in the hull and leaving it to sink someplace offshore.

Some say that dumped fiberglass boats will make suitable artificial reefs. However, very little research has been done on at-sea disposal and the worry is that eventually these boats will degrade and move with the currents and harm the coral reefs, ultimately breaking up into microplastics. Recently, scientists have investigated the damage to mangrove, seagrass and coral habitats and although the effects have only been recorded on a relatively localized basis for now, the cumulative effect of abandoned boats may increase exponentially in the coming years.

To take one example, researchers from Plymouth University found high concentrations of copper, zinc and lead in sediment samples and inside the guts of ragworms in two estuaries in eastern England (Orwell and Blackwater). These contaminants greatly exceeded the environmental quality guidelines, and came from peeling paints from boats abandoned nearby.

Since no registration is needed for leisure vessels, the boats are often dumped once the cost of disposal exceeds the resale value, becoming the liability of the unlucky landowner. Human health hazards arise from chemicals or materials used in the boat: rubber, plastic, wood, metal, textiles and of course oil. Moreover, asbestos was employed extensively as an insulator on exhausts and leaded paints were commonly used as a corrosion inhibitor, alongside mercury-based compounds and tributyltin (TBT) as antifouling agents. Although we lack evidence on the human impact of TBT, lead and mercury are recognized as neurotoxins.

And then there are the repairs – grinding away at fiberglass boats, often in the open, creates clouds of airborne dust. Workers have not always worn masks and some succumbed to asbestosis-like diseases. Inevitably, some of the dust would find its way back into the water.

The fiberglass is filtered by marine shellfish (in my own research, I found up to 7,000 small shards in oysters in Chichester Harbour in southern England) or cling on the shells of tiny water fleas and sink them to the seafloor. The particulate material accumulated in the stomach of shellfish can block their intestinal tracts and eventually lead to death through malnutrition and starvation.

The microparticles stuck on water fleas may have repercussions for swimming and locomotion in general, therefore limiting the ability of the organisms to detect prey, feed, reproduce, and evade predators. There is huge potential for these tiny specks of old boats to accumulate in bigger animals as they are transferred up the food chain.

Those microparticles are the resins holding the fiberglass together and contain phthalates, a massive group of chemicals associated with severe human health impacts from ADHD to breast cancer, obesity and male fertility issues.

Abandoned boats are now a common sight on many estuaries and beaches, leaking heavy metals, microglass and phtalates: we really must start paying attention to the hazard they pose to human health and the threats to local ecology.

Corina Ciocan is a senior lecturer in marine biology at University of Brighton. This article appears courtesy of The Conversation and may be found in its original form here.

from Storage Containers https://www.maritime-executive.com/article/abandoned-fiberglass-boats-are-polluting-the-marine-environment via http://www.rssmix.com/

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dfroza · 4 years

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it matters what kind of foundation your life and heart is built upon

whether upon truth or a lie.

Today’s reading from the book of Luke:

On a certain Sabbath Jesus was walking through a field of ripe grain. His disciples were pulling off heads of grain, rubbing them in their hands to get rid of the chaff, and eating them. Some Pharisees said, “Why are you doing that, breaking a Sabbath rule?”

But Jesus stood up for them. “Have you never read what David and those with him did when they were hungry? How he entered the sanctuary and ate fresh bread off the altar, bread that no one but priests were allowed to eat? He also handed it out to his companions.”

Then he said, “The Son of Man is no slave to the Sabbath; he’s in charge.”

On another Sabbath he went to the meeting place and taught. There was a man there with a crippled right hand. The religion scholars and Pharisees had their eye on Jesus to see if he would heal the man, hoping to catch him in a Sabbath infraction. He knew what they were up to and spoke to the man with the crippled hand: “Get up and stand here before us.” He did.

Then Jesus addressed them, “Let me ask you something: What kind of action suits the Sabbath best? Doing good or doing evil? Helping people or leaving them helpless?”

He looked around, looked each one in the eye. He said to the man, “Hold out your hand.” He held it out—it was as good as new! They were beside themselves with anger, and started plotting how they might get even with him.

At about that same time he climbed a mountain to pray. He was there all night in prayer before God. The next day he summoned his disciples; from them he selected twelve he designated as apostles:

Simon, whom he named Peter,

Andrew, his brother,

James,

John,

Philip,

Bartholomew,

Matthew,

Thomas,

James, son of Alphaeus,

Simon, called the Zealot,

Judas, son of James,

Judas Iscariot, who betrayed him.

Coming down off the mountain with them, he stood on a plain surrounded by disciples, and was soon joined by a huge congregation from all over Judea and Jerusalem, even from the seaside towns of Tyre and Sidon. They had come both to hear him and to be cured of their ailments. Those disturbed by evil spirits were healed. Everyone was trying to touch him—so much energy surging from him, so many people healed! Then he spoke:

You’re blessed when you’ve lost it all.

God’s kingdom is there for the finding.

You’re blessed when you’re ravenously hungry.

Then you’re ready for the Messianic meal.

You’re blessed when the tears flow freely.

Joy comes with the morning.

“Count yourself blessed every time someone cuts you down or throws you out, every time someone smears or blackens your name to discredit me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and that that person is uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—skip like a lamb, if you like!—for even though they don’t like it, I do . . . and all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company; my preachers and witnesses have always been treated like this.

But it’s trouble ahead if you think you have it made.

What you have is all you’ll ever get.

And it’s trouble ahead if you’re satisfied with yourself.

Your self will not satisfy you for long.

And it’s trouble ahead if you think life’s all fun and games.

There’s suffering to be met, and you’re going to meet it.

“There’s trouble ahead when you live only for the approval of others, saying what flatters them, doing what indulges them. Popularity contests are not truth contests—look how many scoundrel preachers were approved by your ancestors! Your task is to be true, not popular.

“To you who are ready for the truth, I say this: Love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer for that person. If someone slaps you in the face, stand there and take it. If someone grabs your shirt, giftwrap your best coat and make a present of it. If someone takes unfair advantage of you, use the occasion to practice the servant life. No more tit-for-tat stuff. Live generously.

“Here is a simple rule of thumb for behavior: Ask yourself what you want people to do for you; then grab the initiative and do it for them! If you only love the lovable, do you expect a pat on the back? Run-of-the-mill sinners do that. If you only help those who help you, do you expect a medal? Garden-variety sinners do that. If you only give for what you hope to get out of it, do you think that’s charity? The stingiest of pawnbrokers does that.

“I tell you, love your enemies. Help and give without expecting a return. You’ll never—I promise—regret it. Live out this God-created identity the way our Father lives toward us, generously and graciously, even when we’re at our worst. Our Father is kind; you be kind.

“Don’t pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults—unless, of course, you want the same treatment. Don’t condemn those who are down; that hardness can boomerang. Be easy on people; you’ll find life a lot easier. Give away your life; you’ll find life given back, but not merely given back—given back with bonus and blessing. Giving, not getting, is the way. Generosity begets generosity.”

He quoted a proverb: “‘Can a blind man guide a blind man?’ Wouldn’t they both end up in the ditch? An apprentice doesn’t lecture the master. The point is to be careful who you follow as your teacher.

“It’s easy to see a smudge on your neighbor’s face and be oblivious to the ugly sneer on your own. Do you have the nerve to say, ‘Let me wash your face for you,’ when your own face is distorted by contempt? It’s this I-know-better-than-you mentality again, playing a holier-than-thou part instead of just living your own part. Wipe that ugly sneer off your own face and you might be fit to offer a washcloth to your neighbor.

“You don’t get wormy apples off a healthy tree, nor good apples off a diseased tree. The health of the apple tells the health of the tree. You must begin with your own life-giving lives. It’s who you are, not what you say and do, that counts. Your true being brims over into true words and deeds.

“Why are you so polite with me, always saying ‘Yes, sir,’ and ‘That’s right, sir,’ but never doing a thing I tell you? These words I speak to you are not mere additions to your life, homeowner improvements to your standard of living. They are foundation words, words to build a life on.

“If you work the words into your life, you are like a smart carpenter who dug deep and laid the foundation of his house on bedrock. When the river burst its banks and crashed against the house, nothing could shake it; it was built to last. But if you just use my words in Bible studies and don’t work them into your life, you are like a dumb carpenter who built a house but skipped the foundation. When the swollen river came crashing in, it collapsed like a house of cards. It was a total loss.”

The Book of Luke, Chapter 6 (The Message)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 3rd chapter in Joshua where God held up the waters of the Jordan to allow the people to cross on dry ground:

Joshua was up early and on his way from Shittim with all the People of Israel with him. He arrived at the Jordan and camped before crossing over. After three days, leaders went through the camp and gave out orders to the people: “When you see the Covenant-Chest of God, your God, carried by the Levitical priests, start moving. Follow it. Make sure you keep a proper distance between you and it, about half a mile—be sure now to keep your distance!—and you’ll see clearly the route to take. You’ve never been on this road before.”

Then Joshua addressed the people: “Sanctify yourselves. Tomorrow God will work miracle-wonders among you.”

Joshua instructed the priests, “Take up the Chest of the Covenant and step out before the people.” So they took it up and processed before the people.

God said to Joshua, “This very day I will begin to make you great in the eyes of all Israel. They’ll see for themselves that I’m with you in the same way that I was with Moses. You will command the priests who are carrying the Chest of the Covenant: ‘When you come to the edge of the Jordan’s waters, stand there on the river bank.’”

Then Joshua addressed the People of Israel: “Attention! Listen to what God, your God, has to say. This is how you’ll know that God is alive among you—he will completely dispossess before you the Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites, Perizzites, Girgashites, Amorites, and Jebusites. Look at what’s before you: the Chest of the Covenant. Think of it—the Master of the entire earth is crossing the Jordan as you watch. Now take twelve men from the tribes of Israel, one man from each tribe. When the soles of the feet of the priests carrying the Chest of God, Master of all the earth, touch the Jordan’s water, the flow of water will be stopped—the water coming from upstream will pile up in a heap.”

And that’s what happened. The people left their tents to cross the Jordan, led by the priests carrying the Chest of the Covenant. When the priests got to the Jordan and their feet touched the water at the edge (the Jordan overflows its banks throughout the harvest), the flow of water stopped. It piled up in a heap—a long way off—at Adam, which is near Zarethan. The river went dry all the way down to the Arabah Sea (the Salt Sea). And the people crossed, facing Jericho.

And there they stood; those priests carrying the Chest of the Covenant stood firmly planted on dry ground in the middle of the Jordan while all Israel crossed on dry ground. Finally the whole nation was across the Jordan, and not one wet foot.

The Book of Joshua, Chapter 3 (The Message)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Tuesday, August 4 of 2020 with a paired chapter from each Testament along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

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thinking-outline · 4 years

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‘It’s a Superpower’: How Walking Makes Us Healthier, Happier and Brainier

By Thinking Outline ; Pratay Das

Neuroscientist Shane O’Mara believes that plenty of regular walking unlocks the cognitive powers of the brain like nothing else. He explains why you should exchange your gym kit for a pair of comfy shoes and get strolling.

Taking a stroll with Shane O’Mara is a risky endeavour. The neuroscientist is so passionate about walking, and our collective right to go for walks, that he is determined not to let the slightest unfortunate aspect of urban design break his stride. So much so, that he has a habit of darting across busy roads as the lights change. “One of life’s great horrors as you’re walking is waiting for permission to cross the street,” he tells me, when we are forced to stop for traffic – a rude interruption when, as he says, “the experience of synchrony when walking together is one of life’s great pleasures”. He knows this not only through personal experience, but from cold, hard data – walking makes us healthier, happier and brainier.

We are wandering the streets of Dublin discussing O’Mara’s book, In Praise of Walking, a backstage tour of what happens in our brains while we perambulate. Our jaunt begins at the grand old gates of his workplace, Trinity College, and takes in the Irish famine memorial at St Stephen’s Green, the Georgian mile, the birthplace of Francis Bacon, the site of Facebook’s new European mega-HQ and the salubrious seaside dwellings of Sandymount.

O’Mara, 53, is in his element striding through urban landscapes – from epic hikes across London’s sprawl to more sedate ambles in Oxford, where he received his DPhil – and waxing lyrical about science, nature, architecture and literature. He favours what he calls a “motor-centric” view of the brain – that it evolved to support movement and, therefore, if we stop moving about, it won’t work as well.

This is neatly illustrated by the life cycle of the humble sea squirt which, in its adult form, is a marine invertebrate found clinging to rocks or boat hulls. It has no brain because it has eaten it. During its larval stage, it had a backbone, a single eye and a basic brain to enable it to swim about hunting like “a small, water-dwelling, vertebrate cyclops”, as O’Mara puts it. The larval sea squirt knew when it was hungry and how to move about, and it could tell up from down. But, when it fused on to a rock to start its new vegetative existence, it consumed its redundant eye, brain and spinal cord. Certain species of jellyfish, conversely, start out as brainless polyps on rocks, only developing complicated nerves that might be considered semi-brains as they become swimmers.

Sitting at a desk all day, it’s easy to start feeling like a brainless polyp, whereas walking and talking, as we are this morning, while admiring the Great Sugar Loaf mountain rising beyond the city and a Huguenot cemetery formed in 1693, our minds are fizzing. “Our sensory systems work at their best when they’re moving about the world,” says O’Mara. He cites a 2018 study that tracked participants’ activity levels and personality traits over 20 years, and found that those who moved the least showed malign personality changes, scoring lower in the positive traits: openness, extraversion and agreeableness. There is substantial data showing that walkers have lower rates of depression, too. And we know, says O’Mara, “from the scientific literature, that getting people to engage in physical activity before they engage in a creative act is very powerful. My notion – and we need to test this – is that the activation that occurs across the whole of the brain during problem-solving becomes much greater almost as an accident of walking demanding lots of neural resources.”

O’Mara’s enthusiasm for walking ties in with both of his main interests as a professor of experimental brain research: stress, depression and anxiety; and learning, memory and cognition. “It turns out that the brain systems that support learning, memory and cognition are the same ones that are very badly affected by stress and depression,” he says. “And by a quirk of evolution, these brain systems also support functions such as cognitive mapping,” by which he means our internal GPS system. But these aren’t the only overlaps between movement and mental and cognitive health that neuroscience has identified.

I witnessed the brain-healing effects of walking when my partner was recovering from an acute brain injury. His mind was often unsettled, but during our evening strolls through east London, things started to make more sense and conversation flowed easily. O’Mara nods knowingly. “You’re walking rhythmically together,” he says, “and there are all sorts of rhythms happening in the brain as a result of engaging in that kind of activity, and they’re absent when you’re sitting. One of the great overlooked superpowers we have is that, when we get up and walk, our senses are sharpened. Rhythms that would previously be quiet suddenly come to life, and the way our brain interacts with our body changes.”

From the scant data available on walking and brain injury, says O’Mara, “it is reasonable to surmise that supervised walking may help with acquired brain injury, depending on the nature, type and extent of injury – perhaps by promoting blood flow, and perhaps also through the effect of entraining various electrical rhythms in the brain. And perhaps by engaging in systematic dual tasking, such as talking and walking.”

One such rhythm, he says, is that of theta brainwaves. Theta is a pulse or frequency (seven to eight hertz, to be precise) which, says O’Mara, “you can detect all over the brain during the course of movement, and it has all sorts of wonderful effects in terms of assisting learning and memory, and those kinds of things”. Theta cranks up when we move around because it is needed for spatial learning, and O’Mara suspects that walking is the best movement for such learning. “The timescales that walking affords us are the ones we evolved with,” he writes, “and in which information pickup from the environment most easily occurs.”

Essential brain-nourishing molecules are produced by aerobically demanding activity, too. You’ll get raised levels of brain-derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF) which, writes O’Mara, “could be thought of as a kind of a molecular fertiliser produced within the brain because it supports structural remodelling and growth of synapses after learning … BDNF increases resilience to ageing, and damage caused by trauma or infection.” Then there’s vascular endothelial growth factor (VEGF), which helps to grow the network of blood vessels carrying oxygen and nutrients to brain cells.

Some people, I point out, don’t think walking counts as proper exercise. “This is a terrible mistake,” he says. “What we need to be is much more generally active over the course of the day than we are.” And often, an hour at the gym doesn’t cut it. “What you see if you get people to wear activity monitors is that because they engage in an hour of really intense activity, they engage in much less activity afterwards.”

But you don’t get the endorphin high from walking, I say. “The same hit you get from running is what you’d get from taking morphine? We simply don’t know that’s true,” he says. “People who study this area don’t go on about endorphins and there may be a reason for that.” Not that he is opposed to vigorous exercise, but walking is much more accessible and easily woven into everyday life: “You don’t need to bring anything other than comfy shoes and a rain jacket. You don’t have to engage in lots of preparation; stretching, warm-up, warm-down …” O’Mara gets off his commuter train a stop early so that he can clock up more steps on his pedometer. To get the maximum health benefits, he recommends that “speed should be consistently high over a reasonable distance – say consistently over 5km/h, sustained for at least 30 minutes, at least four or five times a week.”

Twice during our circuitous route, he asks me to point to where I think our starting point of Trinity College is, and my estimates are pretty close. “That just shows you how good your GPS is,” he says. “You have never been here before, but you have a very good sense of where you need to go.” This is reassuring, I say, because, of course, Google Maps is enfeebling our innate abilities to find our way. “That’s absolute garbage,” says O’Mara. “We really have to get a grip. If you hire a car and drive around a country you’ve never been in, taking a route into a city you’ve never driven into before, the first time, you rely very heavily on the GPS. The second time, not quite so much and, by the third or fourth time, you don’t need the GPS at all, because you’ve learned the route. I actually think GPS is great for helping us disambiguate where we are.”

So it’s mere speculation that relying on satnavs is killing our sense of direction? “Yeah it is. There is no data of any quality showing that, over the long term, reliance on GPS is a bad thing. Honestly, the brain is much more robust.”

O’Mara describes our inbuilt GPS, or cognitive mapping system, as a silent sense. “It is constructed largely without our awareness, and we only notice it if it fails us.” While the sensitive vestibular system of the inner ear governs balance, for mental mapping (which can work even when our eyes don’t), we have what are known as place cells in our hippocampi. If you stay in one place, the cell for that position keeps firing, but if you move, that cell will stop firing and a cell marking your new position will start firing and so on. In rat experiments, the system worked less well when the rodents were wheeled around as opposed to walking.

It’s clever, but not infallible. “We get fooled when we walk a long way in a single direction,” says O’Mara. We need to keep looking around us and recalibrating with visual cues. “If you’re feeding your place cells by coming from a single direction, what they know about the environment is that single direction and you want them to have input from all directions, so look around occasionally and your place cells will reset from the whole sensorium around you.”

While all this is going on in the background, our social brains are working to predict which direction others will take, to avoid collision. In order to walk and navigate, the brain flickers between regions, just as our waking minds are often, says O’Mara, “flickering between big-picture states – thinking about what we have to do tomorrow, plans for next year, engaging in what is called ‘mental time travel’ – and task-focused work. And you need to flicker between these states in order to do creative work.” That’s how important associations get made, and this flickering seems to be bolstered by walking.

It’s part of the reason, O’Mara suspects, that the prolific writer and thinker Bertrand Russell said that walking was integral to his work. Likewise, the Irish mathematician William Rowan Hamilton, who pondered a single problem on his daily walks for seven years, eventually inventing a number system called quaternions, without which we couldn’t make electric toothbrushes or mobile phones.

O’Mara’s ultimate ode to urban walking is TS Eliot’s 1915 poem The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock, which he describes as “a journey on foot, and a journey through states of mind”. Wordsworth composed poetry as he wandered, while Aristotle delivered lectures on foot in the grounds of his school in Athens. The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche memorably said that “only thoughts reached by walking have value”, a notion that Charles Dickens – who was as prolific a walker as he was a writer – would no doubt have seconded.

And, while my mind has been flickering through the streets of Dublin, says O’Mara, “you haven’t died or fallen over, and you’re continuing to breathe. Your heart is booming away. You’re putting one foot in front of the other, and we’re engaging in this conversation, information exchange.” Plus, I’m checking out the area, admiring fanlights and looking for clues of neighbourhood life. “All of this is going on all the time. Robots can’t do this. Getting a robot to cross the road is really hard.” Whereas for our brains, “evolution has been solving this problem, billions of times an hour, for the past 400m years”.

#thinkingoutline #thout

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