#somewhere sometime feelings get involved but its nothing serious from leos part because hes still waiting for ney always waiting

[lost-tanuki-whump]

Hostage Situation - Part 2c

Prompt Challenge: Hanging by the wrists, Rescue Cast: The Disaster Five Word count: 2.4k

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Leonida didn't have perfect knowledge of the area they were in but decided that she could allow herself to slow down after running in a straight line for over an hour. They were in the middle of nowhere. She'd expected as much, Gren and her had had to walk a long time before finding the building. Their surroundings right now were made up of boulders and rocks and mostly felled trees. It took her a while to find a good shelter for Arkady, because the first she came across was a huge burrow and she wasn't sure what kind of animal she'd have to wrestle out of there, and it definitely wasn't worth the risk of getting her human crewmate involved when he was barely awake. She eventually stopped upon finding a natural pit in the earth beneath the rocky overhang of a boulder that was three times her height. All she'd need was to roll over two thinner slabs of rock and it'd be good against bad weather. Maybe she'd fine a third one to hide them. That would be good.

First things first, however. Leonida crouched in the dirt and pulled Arkady down from her shoulders to lay him in the earth. His blue eyes stared straight ahead and never once alighted on her face, and he didn't stay laid out on the ground the way she'd lowered him there; instead his body slowly curled up in a foetal position like a dying bug, small and tight the way she'd found him in the chest. His dirty hair stuck in clumps againt his wet forehead, long enough now that it nearly reached his eyebrows. He was wet and shivering and his dislocated arm hung uselessly down his flank. The rain had washed out most of the dried blood and where it wasn't dark from bruises or red from open wounds, Arkady's skin was paler than usual. His dark freckles stood out across the bridge of his nose even in the ebbing daylight. Leo noticed that his cheekbones were sharper. He looked sick.

"Arkady," she firmly said. He didn't react.

There was that nasty stab wound at his shoulder from the day before that was still seeping blood, and Leo remembered he'd been laying on his bad side when she'd found him in the chest. Fucking assholes hadn't even been careful about that. Or maybe it had been intentional. Leonida felt her anger rise and forced herself to focus. There was another wound all the way across his back that looked older, more superficial, and it was red and puckered. Leonida remembered he'd gotten that one about a week ago. The rest of the cuts and bruises littering his body seemed to have been healing all right- as well as they could have in those conditions. She laid her hand on his shoulder to turn him over and he resisted, his breaths coming in rapid forced bursts, still staring ahead.

"Okay," quietly said Leo.

She couldn't see any serious wounds on his front from her vantage point, but there was a one somewhere on his body that had stained her suit and she needed to find it.

"I'm going to feel for wounds."

She didn't wait for his assent because she knew she wasn't going to get anything from him in his state. Leonida slipped her hand under his flank and ran it from his hip to his armpit in search of an opening. Arkady shuddered violently when the heel of her palm brushed against one of his thick, jagged scars.

"Hey, it's okay, it's just me. I already know."

He'd started shaking more than before and wouldn't stop. Leonida kept going, there was no point in stopping just because he was having an automatic fear response. All she felt was the way his ribs stood out. She guessed that he hadn't been fed more than she had, and though Leo had refused everything that had been given to her, Arkady would have had no choice but to accept the small piece of bread and the shallow bowl of water. She wasn't that surprised that he hadn't been able to stand after spending a month on that diet and going through all that abuse for two weeks.

Leonida searched some more and finally found a deep cut right below his right collarbone. Her fingertips came away wet with blood and she could see thick pale liquid glistening there as well. She made a face. It had felt swollen and hot, nothing good ever came of that.

Leonida finished her check-up to make sure there weren't worse injuries and decided she'd have to start with the arm. There was a risk of nerve and muscle damage after leaving it dislocated for too long, especially since Arkady had been hung up by his wrists several times for beatings which had likely fragilized his shoulders, and if the damage became chronic no healing pod would be able to fix that. Leo scooted to the side, lifted a leg over his body to immobilize Arkady's shoulder with one foot and grabbed his wrist with her good hand, and didn't warn him before abruptly tugging and twisting his arm back in his shoulder.

Arkady shouted in pain and his arm jerked out of her grasp, and Leo lost her balance trying to get off of him as fast as she could. Her ass hit the dirt while Arkady hid his face behind his arms, starting to beg again just like he had when she'd found him in the chest.

"Proshu, pozhaluysta, ne nado," his voice broke on a sob, "ya umolyayu tebya, ne delay etogo... Ya nichego ne znayu, poetomu, pozhaluysta, ya tebya umolyayu...!"

Leonida knew jack shit about Russian. She only knew that Arkady sounded miserable and desperate and it hurt to see him this way. Leonida quickly got back to her knees to lean closer to Arkady.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, it's me. It's Leo." She gently touched his hand and he violently flinched away, but she didn't take her fingers away from his icy skin. "Leonida Trust, remember? Your captain? You think I'm really annoying."

Still shuddering, Arkady slowly angled his face towards her. His blue eyes were wide and distant, eyebrows pinched in terror.

"Ya umolyayu tebya-"

"I don't know what that means, Arkady," softly said Leo over his pleading. "But I can tell you you're safe here. It's just me and you."

He fell silent and continued staring at her as if waiting for the next blow, cheeks wet from his silent crying. Leo wasn't sure he'd really understood. She'd rarely seen anyone so traumatized in her life and that was saying something. It made something heavy and cold weigh deep inside of her to know that they'd been making Arkady this way while she was only a few rooms over. She took a deep breath to calm herself and then tried to wipe the man's tears away.

He recoiled again and immediately started begging: "Proshu, pozhaluysta-"

"Okay, okay," she quickly said and retrieved her hand. "Not your face. See? Not your face."

Arkady went silent again, his breathing just as unsteady as the rest of him, and continued gazing at her the way she imagined a hunted animal would.

"God... They really messed you up, didn't they," she murmured. "Can you speak English? Do you think you can speak English for me, Arkady?"

He didn't answer. She waited. After too long had passed, Arkady's unfocused gaze started drifting away from her face.

Leo leaned in. "Arkady? Can you say something in English?"

He didn't react, and just like that, he was gone again.

Leonida had seen this in soldiers she'd had to rescue from torture before. Sometimes they were perfectly conscious and awake even after months of nonstop abuse and turned out erratic, angry, scared, or all of the above; sometimes they had to be carried out because they were catatonic just like Arkady had been. Some cracked after a year, others after a week. Mostly, it depended on the kind of shit they'd already had to go through before and whether or not the individual was the "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" type. Leo wasn't sure exactly where Arkady was situated on that spectrum, but from the things she'd noticed while living with him over the last months, he was definitely more brittle than the average soldier in their twenties. In the end, it wasn't that surprising to her that their captors had succeeded in breaking him.

Leonida stared at her second in defeat. Getting him to talk to her wasn't the main objective for now, she had to tend to the rest of his wounds. She went to kneel next to his shoulder and sifted through the health protocols she'd been taught, and made one of her chest compartiments draw back to take out desinfectant and antibiotic solutions. She couldn't be sure that it was signs of systemic infection he was displaying with his shivering and confusion, even if it could've been only psychological and because of the cold, but she wasn't willing to wait for a fever to break out.

Leonida quickly rubbed desinfectant into his wounds and then tried to make him drink the antibiotic. She'd half-feared that he wouldn't react and she'd have to force him somehow, but as soon as Arkady felt a drop of moisture settle on his cracked lips, his tongue automatically swiped at it and sought out more of the liquid. Leonida was able to simply hold the small plastic bottle in place while Arkady mindlessly drank.

When there was no more left, Leo retrieved the empty bottle and felt guilty when Arkady tried to go after it. Hopefully this behavior meant he'd accept solids too. Leo quickly produced a box of painkillers and pushed one out of its blister to gently shove it in Arkady's mouth. He eagerly swallowed that, too, and then his teeth grazed against Leo's fingers when he tried to find more to eat.

"Sorry, Arkady," she told him as she pulled her hand away. This felt like feeding an animal and it felt horribly wrong. She hated to see the cynical, grumpy technician she'd been trying to befriend reduced to this state. Leo had a feeling Arkady would hate it too, when he came back from this and remembered.

She needed to get him food and water but she didn't even have anything to collect rain. She needed to get him clean clothes, too, and something to sleep in. She'd have to start with making the shelter better protected from the elements of nature and make a fire. He'd survive no matter the conditions as long as she found him food and water soon, but Leo wasn't willing to see his recovery drag because he was cold and half-naked. She hoped that clothes and a warm sleeping bag would help him feel safer, too, and that maybe it would fix what was wrong with his mind. There was no way she could risk going back to the ship when she wasn't sure to have killed all of the hunters in that building, so she'd have to find supplies in the nearest town. Until then, they'd be stuck as they were.

Leo knew she wouldn't be able to allow Arkady as much rest as he needed because they had an opiel to save, too.

Leonida got up and stepped out from beneath the rocky overhang to get what she needed for a better shelter. She didn't go far and never let Arkady out of her sight for more than a few short moments at a time. After half and hour she'd rolled a smaller, blocky boulder to one side and a broken slab of layered rock on the other. It was very crude and left drafts of winds coming in from three places at once but at least Arkady would be hidden in there.

Leonida had wanted to find foliage to cover him with but only found damp pieces of wood; what this place made up for in abundance of rocks, it lacked in any kind of plants. She gathered enough thick branches to ensure a lasting campfire and hurried back to Arkady, dropping it all next to him and then proceeding to gather stones to delimit a zone on the ground in a circle. Leonida piled everything at its center and picked up the two sharp rocks she'd selected to start the fire. Rubbing them together with enough force to produce a spark was a piece of cake for her, getting the damp wood to catch on fire was not.

It took a while, and when it did finally catch on Leonida had to spend twenty minutes waving all the smoke away from Arkady while the wood dried out in the flames. She noticed that Arkady had dug his fingers in the soil at some point and Leo hoped that meant he was getting his bearings. Leo surveyed the fire for a little bit and once she was sure it was strong and steady enough that it wouldn't go out too early on its own, she turned to Arkady and carefully laid her fingers on the back of his hand. He didn't move, but she was satisfied to see that his skin was getting a bit warmer.

"You should sleep, Arkady. It's safe now."

Arkady's empty blue eyes had stayed open the whole time, if only closing to blink from time to time, and his tears weren't flowing anymore. Leo wondered if he'd been kept in that chest after every beating. If they'd somehow figured him out and used his claustrophobia against him to push him over the edge. If his blindfold had always been as damp with tears as when she'd pulled it away, and she just hadn't been able to see it on the grainy quality of the surveillance feed that she'd been shown. Leonida pushed the thoughts away for later, for whenever Arkady would be able to tell her.

"If you could come back in the morning, that would be really nice. It's lonely when you're not grumbling."

He didn't show any sign that he'd heard her. Leo stayed crouched before him in the same position for a while then eventually shifted on her feet to go lay down at his back, carefully keeping a few inches of distance between Arkady's ruined skin and the front of her suit. Leonida didn't emit as much heat as humans did and she briefly thought about the way J complained in winter because the material of her suit got cold. Right now it was warmed from tending to the fire, and she was at least preventing Arkady's back from being exposed to the chill of the windy drafts.

"I hope you're closing your eyes," she told the back of Arkady's head.

He didn't answer, of course, didn't even twitch as his curled-up body continued its steadfast trembling.

Leonida herself stayed awake through yet another night.

[jillmckenzie1]

The Silver Lining – Online Dating on the Road

Once upon a time, in a galaxy not so far away, I came across a guy on Bumble who immediately proclaimed in his bio that faith was the number quality that he was looking for in a woman. Okay. He then proceeded to say how much he loved positivity and hated photo filters: “Real is beautiful.” You got it, bud. I second the filter hate train. I mean, I’ll send you a dumbass video of me with cheeseburgers circling around my head, but a hard no on the cat ears for public visibility. In true Stephanie fashion, I led with: “Should I start sending all my Snapchat filter selfies now or later?” (don’t worry, the answer is yes, I do amuse myself). Here’s the part where you sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. His response: “Funny, Funny. I wonder what a vagina looks like filtered? Huh [insert light bulb emoji]. I have an idea. Test it out for us. Send me one both ways. I’ll let you know [insert smiley face emoji].”

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Yep, this actually happened. Seriously. I responded and questioned why, on any planet in any point in time, he believed this response would be an acceptable way to speak to a woman. Ever. I recall using words like “disgusting” and “degrading” (I’m sure the screenshot is somewhere deep in the abyss of my iPhotos if you need evidence). His response? He was joking. Right. Super funny, dude. Real funny. Report. Block. Terminate. Bye.

If you’re single, you’re not surprised by this story. If you’re in a relationship, I hope to God you are completely astounded. And, while I often think dating apps are the absolute devil, it is also the current means to an end. Are you even a real single person if you are not on a dating app? Not even kidding. Okay, slight over exaggeration, but truly, never in our wildest teen years did us 30-something-year-olds imagine using our phones to score a significant other (AIM, sure, but not our phones).

So, I exist in my current reality. Fact: I’m single. Fact: I’m transient. Fact: I’d like to be in a relationship. Fact: I don’t care whether or not that relationship exists in a transient or stationary state. So, yes, if our vibe is high and you want to hop in the Airstream and explore every end of the earth, great. If you work in a job you love in a city that you call home, ask me to stay. Let’s ride the wave. Together. Because, seriously, doing life with someone who really gets you better than anyone else ever could is the real damn deal.

Back to dating. I don’t think anyone actually dates anymore. I am actually convinced that it’s not really a thing these days. There’s like pre-dating in which you entertain the idea of actually dating. And then there is friend-zoning or jumping deep into the abyss of quasi-matrimony. I speak with experience from the former, not the latter. And, mark my words, “friends with benefits” is so hot right now. I actually went toe-to-toe with two guy friends at a bar last weekend in a pursuit to convince them that the typical Millennial male is more often than not seeking a friend with whom he can simply have sex than an actual committed relationship (let’s just say they didn’t disagree). Because, I actually do believe that most men do not want to sleep around with handfuls of random girls. They seem to be perplexed by their own paradoxical existence of not wanting anything serious (i.e. being forced to attend your grandma’s 80th birthday with you) while simultaneously wanting to have sex as much as humanly possible.

Let me present to you exhibit A.

I moved to Denver in my Airstream last spring. I met a guy on Bumble who happened to be on the way to a bachelor party for the weekend. I assumed we would engage in an hour-long text conversation that would end with him asking me to send nudes or with him sending me a completely unsolicited dick pic (because, yes, as you can assume from the above scenario, guys really do that). I’d tell him to (a) Google a nude, any nude (most certainly not mine), if that’s what he wanted, or (b) I’d cuss him out for exposing himself like a disturbed and arrogant asshole, and I’d add another tally to my list of douchebags found in the wild.

Welp, surprisingly, he proved me wrong. Beyond that, he actually seemed interested in who I was as a human being, and he proceeded to text me non-stop over the course of the weekend. While at a bachelor party (I feel that this detail needs repeating).

So, he returns home three days later and we commit to actually meeting face to face (like, whoa). And, for lack of a better word, it’s flawless. We’re super funny together (priority one), conversation is natural, and chemistry is fire. We hang out for a few weeks, which inevitably leads to sex. Immediately, he drops the bomb: let’s be friends. Let’s. Be. Friends? Oh wait, I’m sorry, correction, let’s be BEST friends. Perfect. Great. Because, I’m really lacking in the best friend department (insert massive eye roll here).

At this point, I assume it will die out. I assume that he used the nice guy “let’s be friends” card in an attempt to save my feelings and he will vanish as quickly as he had appeared. But, no. He quite literally continues to pursue my friendship. For a month he asks me to do nearly everything with him. He also proceeds to pay for everything: climbing, concerts, movies. Let’s note here that he also proceeds to take my clothes off on a semi-regular basis (despite his constant commentary on us needing rules to prevent such happenings). Final bomb: after a Luke Bryan concert, while sitting on a bench enveloped by a Colorado night sky, he tells me that he loves my soul. I’m sorry, what? Like, we are dating, bro. We. Are. DATING. I don’t care what you title me, but let’s call this thing by its Urban Dictionary definition. He follows up this statement with the fact that I simply deserve better. One, I think I am being dumped for the first time without ever actually having been in an established relationship. Two, fuck off. No one gets to tell me what I deserve. I decide that. So, no, I don’t deserve better. You simply deserve less based on your own evaluation of whatever this thing is that we’re doing. Say that, please. Own that.

So, spring came. And, spring went.

Summer roared in like a lion, and I committed myself to rock faces and mountain peaks, two things that I find to be (surprisingly) much more predictable than men. I also dove even deeper into my work (don’t worry, the digital dating gods still delivered amidst my commitment to my professional projects).

Enter exhibit B.

As a freelance creative director and brand strategist, I work remotely for all of my clients. Idaho. California. Kentucky. Texas. I sometimes wonder if I have a subconscious goal to knock off all 50 states. With all that being said, I met a guy in another state who pursued me completely on his own accord. My vision had always been to travel with my Airstream, but I was never 100% certain on dates. This guy gets my number, he uses round-about questions to engage me in some witty banter, and low and behold he says, “Move down here and I’ll fix all your dating problems.” Wow. Bold statement. I like it. So, after a couple months in this state of flirting euphoria, I commit (amongst a sea of many factors, but I’m intrigued by what’s happening here). He calls me pet names and we have running jokes, and if you know me, these are the keys to my heart. So, I’m smitten kitten. Without any expectation of what will actually become of it. If anything.

The point here is that I show up. I have the luxury of saying yes and then doing something about it. I want to be next to him, so I choose that. Because his voice brings this uncanny smile to my face, and when his name appears on my iPhone notifications, there is a simultaneous level of excitement and comfort. He is fireworks, and he is coming home. And the beauty lies not only in the feeling, but also in the reciprocation of the feeling. Because, there is zero bone in my body that has interpreted anything that he’s told me as being untrue.

Until I’m there. Until I’m standing in front of him begging for every inch of contact. And, that alone becomes the culmination of months of aggressive flirting. Me. Begging (like, seriously, just kiss me before I scream). Because he likes me, but he doesn’t know. I’m sorry, what? Yes, he likes me, but he doesn’t know. Because, self-admittedly, he is a tease. And, he likes it, even though he’s not proud of it (his words, not mine). Perfect. Great. Because, my character flaw is not consuming enough water daily. The effect of this flaw on other people: zero.

At this point, I need to clarify two things. One, I respect people who have an awareness about what they do not know. There is nothing wrong with not knowing. I would take harsh honesty over a sugar-coated lie ten times out of ten. My frustration or disappointment or bewilderment exists in the actions that suggest otherwise. I get it, the pursuit is fun, but if you are not ready to take the elk out of the woods after the hunt, then why are you going hunting in the first place? Terrible metaphor, by the way, but rolling with it. Two, I do not believe in forcing anything in life. I spent far too many years making things happen in the pursuit of checking off items from some proverbial checklist (which is entirely bullshit, by the way). So, for someone not to choose me does not devastate my being. Yes, I have feelings. Lots of them. Too many of them, probably (hello, Leo over here). But, in a world where we get to choose everything (for argument’s sake), I’m not into forcing anyone into a choice that involves me.

What I have observed in this last eighteen months of singledom is that no one wants to commit. To anything. There is no need to commit to anything. Most guys are on dating apps to have sex. Okay, rephrase, most guys are on dating apps posing like they want something substantial in order to get sex. I actually have the most respect for bios that read, “If I’m being honest, just looking to hook up.” Bravo. Kudos to you, dude. Because, I have had my own seasons of wanting more and wanting less. And, there is nothing wrong with either choice. There is nothing wrong with existing in either space. It’s the lack of honesty that burns me to my core. Stop flirting with me if it’s not going anywhere. Stop wasting my time. I don’t need more friends off of Bumble, or sliding into my DMs, or through obscure means of getting my phone number. Truly. I’ve reached my lifetime quota after 34 years.

In tandem, what I have observed in the last eighteen months about myself is that I am, most certainly, a lover and believer of words. And, that is the crux. That online dating, or simply just dating, is this whole show of words. That are so easily believed. And it’s just all shit. If I had a dollar for every guy who suggested running away with me in my Airstream, I would have been able to pay straight cash for my new F-150 a few weeks ago. Seriously. There’s one in LA, and a couple in New Jersey, a handful in Texas, and so many in Colorado that I’ve actually stopped counting. Because the minute I say, “Okay, I’m calling you on this statement,” my experience indicates that they can’t live up to it.

Great, tell me all about your fantasies, homeboy, only to ghost two days later (or, better yet, I find out about your undying love for your current girlfriend on your second to last Instagram post from five days ago). Newsflash, smoother operator, this is my actual life over here. Hope you enjoyed your glimpse.

So, yes, I’m attempting to not grow cynical. I’m also attempting to unpack two very real personal questions. One, if a game must be played in order to win the affection of another, and that game requires me to act outside of my normal state, then am I even winning if I do “win?” For example, guy articulates that he doesn’t know if he wants anything. Then, the same guy asks for me to bring him food because he’s stuck at work. I show love through service, so naturally, my being is dying to deliver said food. But, guy advice (based on my current inner circle) is usually, don’t bring him the food: “He’s using you. If he can’t say that he wants you, but is willing to get favors from you, show him that you don’t have time to do him favors without him giving you a respectable level of commitment.” And, this is fair. This actually makes sense. But, still, I deliver the food (yep, that’s me) because, yep, that IS me. And, I don’t want to be anything but myself. Ever.

Two, what is my responsibility to give people space to be honest and themselves but also to guard my own heart in that process? I believe in ease. I believe that there are certain things in life that mysteriously and beautifully fall into place. I’d like to believe that a romantic relationship would unfold in a similar fashion. But, if this guy says he doesn’t know and then proceeds to engage with me in a fashion that suggests otherwise, should I believe his actions or his words? And, the fact that I’m asking that question is my answer, right? If the right person were standing in front of me, I’m confident I wouldn’t have to be choosing between his actions and his words in the first place because there would be an alignment in both areas that carries the level of integrity that I demand for in my own self. Yet, here I am, FaceTiming my best male friend at 7:32pm on a Wednesday night to ask how to respond to the 47th text message from a guy who just doesn’t know what it is that he wants from me, making me perplexed on how to proceed with my own verbiage and actions.

At this point, let’s add the nomadic element to the mix. And, I am quite confident that therein lies a bigger piece to this commitment-phobic puzzle. Because, it is easy to fall into a routine with someone who resides within your city limits and has a similar schedule to your scripted life. It is an entirely different thing to choose a person who has the freedom to leave. To ask someone to stay requires a deeper level of commitment. It means that someone is choosing for me to do life alongside him, and it means that we are taking off into the sunset together or I am abandoning the road to call someone my home. Ultimately, that choice is my desire. Because, the more I embark on adventures alone, the narrower the gap becomes for me to experience those things for the first time with someone else.

And, I’m starting to question whether or not anything is actually beautiful without it being shared, without it being seen through two sets of eyes in the same moment, if anything is real without the conversation of that thing existing between two coherent bodies.

So, I continue to sit and manifest these desires in the belief that, one day, I’ll be done with the exhibits. That, one day, someone will choose me, and I will choose him back. Without force. Without fear. Without the twenty questions. Granted, maybe I’ve already missed out on Mr. Perfect somewhere in between. Because I didn’t like his shoes. Or his haircut was weird. Or, I swiped left because he failed to include a bio (c’mon, guys). Regardless, I know that wanting something requires attention to that thing. I know that wanting someone requires intentionality to his existence. So, I’m here. Showing up. Attempting to live outside of our digital dead zone. Attempting to keep doing the work to have that one thing that my heart yearns to explore. I can reason that if it were easy, then everyone would do it. Like, really do it. It’s not easy. Not everyone does it. Like, really does it. But, it will damn well be worth it.

Meanwhile, if you need help with your pickup lines, don’t hesitate to slide into my DMs. They’re currently still free for the taking.

from Blog https://ondenver.com/the-silver-lining-online-dating-on-the-road/