#Australia Jackets Vendor

[angelinalifestyle]

How Your Jacket Reflects Your Style and Personality

Read https://www.oasisjackets.com/what-your-jacket-says-about-you/ to know the secret what your jacket says about your personality and helps you to stay fashionable in different occasions.

[thomsonsharon347]

What Your Jacket Says About You

VISIT:

Are you keen to know what your jacket says about your personality

[jacketssupplier]

Jackets and Coats: Are They the Same?

Are jackets and coats the same? Or, are there differences? To find out, read on to know more details about it!

Visit: https://www.oasisjackets.com/jackets-and-coats-are-they-the-same/

[taeminsung]

pairing: stray kids x reader

prompt: stray kids reaction to s/o pulling them onto their lap

a/n: a little bit different than what i usually write, but please enjoy ♡

bang chan..

Fingers typed furiously for a moment before a silent beat echoed in his head and then his finger was hitting the delete button until the white page was once again staring back at him. Glancing back at to where you sat, fully engrossed in the book you had brought, Chan only groaned as he pushed his chair back and began pacing in his small studio. It was supposed to be a quick writing session before going shopping for the trip back to Australia. Consumed in his own head, he chewed on his lip and continued to walk in small circles, failing to notice the way you had put your book down and watched him with a small head tilt. The feeling of your fingers pulling his shirt back startled him as he crashed into your lap, only to immediately melt into your hold as your arms wrapped around him. Slow down, hmm, you mumbled into his back pressing a quick kiss on his back. Giggling to himself, he adjusted so that he was sitting between your legs, back pressing into your chest just existing in the moment.

minho..

The sun had set long ago but that didn’t stop you two from wandering the streets, grabbing snacks at different vendor stalls along the river walk. Stopping under a tree, Minho quickly told you to pose for a few photos before switching with him, so he had a few photos to post for stays. Turning back to you, he couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his lips as he watched you plop onto the bench that was nearby, tossing your head back to look up at the night sky. Snapping a quick photo, he made his way over to stand by you, tipping his head back to get the same view as you, missing how your attention was already back on him. Before he could even register what was going on, he pulled into your lap, yelping when he felt your cold fingers press against the bare skin of his back under his shirt. I’m cold¸ he heard you whine, and I thought you looked cold too so I figured we could pause and warm each other up. Honestly he couldn’t argue with your train of thought so instead, he wiggled in your lap, fine, a few minutes of this then back to the dorm for proper cuddles, he said with a head nod.

changbin..

There was a level of surprise when you had showed up at his door, dressed ready for the gym, shyly asking to tag along for the first time since you two had gotten together. Changbin knew that you weren’t self-conscious to be at the gym, it was more being at the gym with him since he was an avid goer and you only recently decided to start going more. Using different machines, he caught himself watching you in between his sets, smiling to himself as you work through your own sets, with a cute look of determination on your face. After some time, you ended up using the equipment next to him, causing his body to gravitate towards you only to be pulled down into his lap. Caught off guard, he didn’t know how to react until you whispered, people won’t stop staring at me, can you just sit here for a moment? Instead of cooing at you for making him feel loved, protective mood was on as he stared down the few people, he noticed hadn’t taken their eyes off of you.

hyunjin..

A breeze blew through both of your hair as you wandered through the back garden of the museum you had just spent hours in. Hyunjin couldn’t help but fall a little bit more in love with you as you explained that you had packed his sketch book and supplies so that he could draw as much as he wanted too here. Grabbing your hand, he led you around the area, circling to find the best place for you to sit so that he could draw you surrounded by the incredible nature, knowing full well that he would be setting it as his phone background for the next several months. Finally settling on a place, he quickly gets distracted with where he wants to lay out his jacket for you to sit on, completely unaware of how you had sat on the bench, eye solely focused on him before he felt himself losing balance and being pulled down. A loud squeak was released before slamming his hand over his mouth, with wide eyes looking back at you. Can we be one of those cute couples that everyone envies? you blinked at him, a small smile pulling at your lips. Feeling a blush creep across his face, he hums his agreement adding you are the most adorable thing in my world.

han..

For a brief moment, Han felt like the worst boyfriend to ever exist, simply because he had trapped you in the small sound booth not realizing that the door locked from the outside. After apologizing for what felt like five minutes, he now was darting back and forth, dragging his hands through his hair trying to explain to you that the other members were on their way to rescue them. Staring at your face, he couldn’t quite read the expression that was there as you closed your eyes and took a long breath. Pivoting on his heels, he tried to make it to the other side of the tiny room only to be pulled backwards and into your lap. Silence fell before you exhaled, please stop moving for five seconds, it’s making me sicker than I already feel, leaning your head back against the wall. Something broke in Han’s brain as he sat in your lap, a foreign place he never thought he'd be, but hearing your words, folded his hands in his lap and sat as still as he fought the urge to bounce his leg up and down.

felix..

Walking through the front door of the dorm, Felix was so happy to see that your shoes hadn’t moved an inch from where you left them the night before. Entering the room more, he finds you on the couch watching your favorite drama with Minho asleep on the floor, likely having gotten home only an hour or so before him. The overwhelming feeling of the day started to settle into his bones and the long hours of practice making his legs wobbly as he tried to make it over to the couch instead of the floor like his hyung. Arms wrapped around his waist as he was tugged down not only into the couch but also into your warm lap. Everything inside Felix starts to feel like it’s on fire as you hug him closer to you causing any lingering stress to melt away. Long day? You whispered to him, affecting his body forcing it to simply melt a little bit more into you as his eyes closed not finding the strength to respond.

seungmin..

A part of him couldn’t quite figure out how you had managed to get into Chan’s studio but the other part of him was silently celebrating whatever you did to be there. It had been days since Seungmin had been able to see you in person, having to instead settle for video calls at odd hours of the day. He had only grabbed Chan’s studio because he knew that he was at the gym and Seungmin just wanted a quiet place to write a few lyrics that had been plaguing his brain since the last time he had seen you. Seeing you again, helped him finish the remaining lyrics that seemed to have evaded him until now. Standing up to stretch, he felt the tug on the back of his shirt as he lost his balance and landed in your lap. A silent question pressed on his tongue at what you were thinking since you were at JYP. I missed you a lot, can we just stay like this for a bit? you pouted at him, making the unasked question dissipate from his mouth being replaced with only until someone comes, shifting so that he doesn’t crush you.

jeongin..

Pulling his hat a little lower, he pulled you along to avoid the growing crowd that seemed to be filling the small shopping area. Jeongin knew that you didn’t love the large crowds, especially if they were fans because they sometimes got too close for your comfort. Looking for a quiet corner, he led you over to the less populated sitting area, letting you sit but keeping his fingers laced with yours while he looked out at everyone to assess if it was time to go for the day. Before he could blink, he was in your lap, immediately trying to wiggle this way out of your hold forcing his body to stop when he heard you whisper, please just stay here, I like the weight of you right now. Feeling like his chest was just punched, he adjusted how he was sitting so that some of his weight was on you but not enough to cause any pain. Playing with your fingers, he thought of how strange it felt to be in your lap since normally you were in his, and then his mind drifted to how odd it was that he was allowing it in public.

♡ ── thank you love for reading! requests are open.  

[sausagerollsandmustard]

Activity 2: Billingsgate Fish Market & Borough Market

Part 2: Borough Market

Fruit: Burmese Grape/Letuku

I was surprised to actually find a fruit I had zero familiarity with -- I love trying exotic foods so I follow a lot of fruit sellers from tropical countries and had at least seen the other fruits online, but burmese grape was totally new to me

At first I thought it was another of those situations where they are just using a different name (like mooli vs daikon, aubergine vs eggplant, courgette vs zucchini, etc.) because these look similar to fruits like longan, lychee, and others in that family, but they aren't actually closely related

Looking up pictures online, the interior is more like a mangosteen, with garlic-like cloves you can pop out to suck the flesh off of a central seed. They are apparently similar in taste but more fibrous than mangosteen

can be stewed, made into wine, but are most commonly eaten raw, sometimes with a dash of salt

As soon as I showed the picture to my roommate Sadia she recognized them and said they were one of her favourite fruits and that she'd grown up eating them, so that makes me want to go back and actually buy some to try!

Link: a listing from a website that sells fruit trees in Australia -- I like to browse this site because they have a bunch of really interesting fruits and fruit varieties that are inaccessible in newfoundland https://www.daleysfruit.com.au/Burmese-Grape-Baccaurea-ramiflora.htm#:~:text=Fruits%20have%20a%20delightful%20sweet,stewed%20or%20made%20into%20wine.

Vegetable: Sunchokes/Jerusalem Artichoke

I have heard of these -- they were a source of contention in my family for many years because I tried to use them as a "vegetable that starts with J" but my parents didn't recognize the name so they refused to give me the point. Now that I finally have photographic proof they exist I have vindication.

They are native to North America, and resemble a potato, but are actually tubers from a species of sunflower plant, so they aren't potatoes OR artichokes

They can be used like a potato, fried as chips/crisps, mashed, boiled, but can also be eaten raw, often compared in taste and texture to chestnuts

the name comes from the fact that they taste like an artichoke when cooked, and that the word "girasole" (turning towards the sun) in Italian sounds sort of like "Jeruslaem" (New York Times, 1981: https://www.nytimes.com/1981/12/09/garden/jerusalem-artichoke-a-colorful-history-and-variety-of-use.html#:~:text=The%20Jerusalem%20version%20is%20actually,of%20nomenclature%20turned%20into%20Jerusalem.)

Link (I think the miso-roasted ones look best): https://www.olivemagazine.com/recipes/collection/best-ever-jerusalem-artichoke-recipes/

Meat: Canned Spicy Mackerel Roe

After getting to remove the roe from our own mackerels at the fish market this morning, I had to choose this for my meat

Roe of many sea creatures is a delicacy, but I don't think there's any terrestrial equivalents beyond snail caviar, which is not very well known and even as a pretty adventurous eater creeps me out a little https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snail_caviar)

Part of a current trend in gastronomy for gourmet canned foods from Spain and Portugal -- this stall had other products I would've loved to try, but they were upwards of 15 pounds/tin! These included cuttlefish canned in its own ink, goose barnacles, premium tuna, and sea snails

The vendor admitted that he's not a fan of roe, but said that a woman he works with often sprinkles the canned mackerel roe over a salad or jacket potato for pops of flavour

Link: https://theculturetrip.com/europe/portugal/lisbon/articles/sea-treasures-how-canned-fish-became-lisbons-most-popular-souvenir/

Dairy: Cow's Whey Butter

With all the new and strange cheeses around, I didn't expect to pick a butter, but looking into the history of this one and its connections to the slow food movement was interesting

Cow's Whey Butter uses byproducts of cheesemaking that are often discarded, making it a great sustainable choice

It is also lower in fat than modern butter and has a much more complex, tangy and even cheesy taste

It can be used anywhere that butter is used, but because of its price and the unique flavour, its best to use it in something where it can be the star of the dish

Most cheesemakers do not make it because it is labour intensive and requires expertise, but those that know about it are very passionate

Link: https://www.slowfood.org.uk/ff-products/whey-butter/#:~:text=Whey%20Butter%20is%20a%20by,initial%20processes%20of%20cheese%20making.

(Picture courtesy of Quicke's, https://www.quickes.co.uk/products/slightly-salted-cows-whey-butter)

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Klaus Hargreeves x Powered Reader

-Watch and Learn-

Warnings: buffoonery ensues, fun times

This gif is beautiful and represents the reader v well.

Masterlist

Do you realize shoplifting is bad, yes. Are you about to do it on a dare, also yes. You see, Klaus has been up to no good recently, you put it up to his desperation for your complete and undivided attention.

For about a month you were over in Australia visiting an old friend, and your poor Klaus was left all alone to fend for himself, for 30 whole days. You were honestly surprised that your apartment didn’t burn down, or look incredibly trashed with random street cats walking around it.

Amazingly enough, everything was intact, but oh man did Klaus miss you. For the first day he wouldn’t even leave your side. The two of you laying on the couch and Klaus couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Not that you minded, he was needy and very handsy that night. So let’s just say, no movie watching was happening.

But back to your current situation, here you are outside a high end clothing store, and you’ve never been more ready in your whole life.

“Remember the goal Y/N, some shiny bracelets, sunglasses, a pricy pricy shirt, and something special for, muah.” Klaus purred sweetly in your ear trying to throw you off, but you remain unflinching and determined.

“Piece of cake, this will be a record haul.” You tell him with a mischievous smirk as he grins back at you.

The two of you casually walk into the store, you’ve put on your long blonde wig and dark sunglasses to better conceal your identity if things did in fact go south. Klaus didn’t try much to disguise himself as he walked in looking like some carefree wanderer, but then again, he’s the distraction.

He walks to the nearest group of employees and begins an over dramatic display of fascination for a certain hat that is laying a top a mannequins head. You make a beeline for the jewelry, finding your prize and nonchalantly sliding them into your inner jacket pocket. Easy money. Next you practically glide over to the sunglasses, looks around you before snatching your favorite pair, ripping off the tag and placing them casually into your coats inner pocket. Yours now.

You scan the store for the shirt isle, easily enough your eyes land down an isle to your left where you let out muffled snort. Klaus now has dark glassed Harry Potter looking specs as well as a fancy cowboy type hat. All in all he looks relatively good, like a sexy desert traveler who’s about to steal some hearts. A smile forms onto your face as you briefly watch him keep up his dramatic act of being the best shoplifting distraction you could have asked for.

Turning back to the pricy isle of shirts that altogether probably cost more then your car, well that is if you actually payed for it. You continue forward, your eyes scanning over the silk and leather fabrics, over ones encrusted with jewels and animal fur that you’re hoping is just fux fur. Your keen eyesight finally stills onto a gorgeous Gucci sweater that practically screams take me. You glance up and find where the nearest security cameras are, spotting them, you pull your attention back to the task at hand. You run your hands down the sleeves and swiftly tug, the sweater comes off the rack and makes a quick descent towards the polished tiled ground.

As sly as a fox you kneel onto the tiled floor, picking it up and sliding it into your coat where it’s completely hidden from any prying eyes that might not be minding their own business. With a smirk you stand up, taking the empty rack and calmly sliding on a new sweater that you found at the local thrift store, that’s been patiently waiting for its next clothing rack. You turn down the isle watching Klaus sweet talk an employee who seems to be under his little spell. You can’t help it when your jaw clenches in subconscious jealousy, you know it’s all for show but still, only you get that adorable smile and emerald eyes that at least they can’t see due to his current fashion statement.

Shaking those thoughts away, you ground yourself again to what you and Klaus actually came here for. Now to find something special for your man, scanning over the brightly lit store your eyes widen in excitement at the beautiful jewel encrusted golden snake necklace that only queens of Egypt should be allowed to possess. You coolly walk over to the necklace, your nerves racing in a bustle of excitement as you make it to the glass case that surrounds it. You shift your eyes once to the left and then once to the right, surveying the area for any intruders. No ones in the nearest proximity due to Klaus’ amazing ability to draw in a crowd practically anywhere.

“Oh and look at you, Klaus is gonna love you, not as much as me but hmm you are one beautiful snake.” You whisper to the glimmering metal hiding behind the stores attempt at a security precaution. Reaching out your hand you simply use your power and defy the laws of what humans should be able to do. Your hand phases through the see through glass where you promptly pick up the dazzling trinkets made for royalty. You silently stick it into your bra and turn around, making your way down the isle and towards Klaus and his crowd of high end retail workers.

You walk past him and give him a wink, he takes the subtle hint, says his goodbyes and trails after you towards the doors. You slow down your pace so he can catch up, a sudden arm slings over your shoulders as he kisses the side of your cheek.

“My dear you would not believe what a bunch of kiss-asses those guys are. Enough to match Luther honestly.”

“Well you seemed to be handling them just fine from what I could see.”

“Huh yeah, they thought my tattoos where interesting.”

“They did, didn’t they.”

“Ohhh were you...were you, gettin a lil jealous Y/N?”

“What? Jealous of a couple of blonde bimbos, you need your eyes checked babe.” Klaus lets out a laugh as he opens the stores door for you. You avoid eye contact, your frustration slowly building until he reaches for your open hand. The contact and the way that he leans into your side instantly calming your agitation once again.

“Alright fine. That was admittedly mean and unnecessary, and yeah okay I was a tad bit jealous...but come on Klaus. You make me feel things.”

“Aww Y/N you’re so cute, my little thief. So watcha get?”

“Oh some of this some of that. I’ll show you when we get back to the apartment. I’m gonna have to come back later and destroy the security footage.”

“Oh right, that silly thing those pricey stores like to do. Security cameras.”

“Ruining fun for burglers since they were invented by some paranoid prick.”

“Eh they have their uses.” Suddenly his attention snaps over to a hotdog vendor further down the sidewalk, “Oh hey, you want a street sausage...and I’m not talking about mine..ah Jesus Y/N I was kidding don’t hit me.”

“Klaus.”

“You have a strong arm. It was a serious question before you assaulted me.”

“Babe we have stuff that’s worth more then the building we live in. We should just go home, we have leftover Thai in the fridge.” Klaus abruptly halts the both of you, shifting your body so he can rest his hands on either side of your shoulders as he looks deeply into your eyes, his face shifting into a pleading expression.

“But my tum tum is grumbling...listen to it Y/N...it says feed me or I’ll die of hunger.”

“Wow I didn’t realize you could speak stomach. Klaus you are truly full of surprises.” You deadpan with lack of facial movement but a low sigh coming from your parted lips.

“Do not antagonize me woman this is serious.” He gives you the biggest and most adorable puppy eyes, trying with all of his might to sway you to the dark side. You roll your eyes as a smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. His eyes go wide in excitement, knowing he’s won you over with his usual Klaus charm.

“My lovely lady, you are a gem among the city sewage.”

“Thanks Klaus. You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

“That’s what I do babes.” Replies Klaus with a quick kiss to your lips before he drags you over to the vendor, that admittedly smells quit delicious if you’re being honest. He orders a simple dog for the both of you, actually paying for it himself to your great astonishment. Then he slathers his in toppings as you select a few of your own, then it’s through the city park to reach your apartment. The two of you and your concealed stolen goods, walking casually down the parks walking trail as you both happily munch on your hotdogs.

“Maybe I have too much on mine.” You have a look at Klaus who’s face is smeared with ketchup and mustard as he fumbles with is already messy napkin while you take another bite from your own hotdog in an attempt at concealing your laughter. “Seriously Y/N, it’s all over my face now, I’m a mess.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Ben don’t laugh..” Whines Klaus with a pout as he glances over at you who’s definitely losing your shit. “Okay fine, it was pretty funny.”

“You walked right into it. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Well Ben’s about to pee himself if you’d like to know so good job at that.”

“Thank you thank you I’ll be here all night.” You bow to no one in particular as Klaus finishes off the last bit of his hotdog. You hand him your napkin as you throw your dirty ones in the nearby trash can. Klaus doing the same, now looking much less of a mess, both on his face and hands. He swiftly catches up to you and practically throws himself onto you. You stagger to the side as his full weight begins dragging you downward towards the wet pavement, oh no you are not about to have his lanky ass get you all dirty. As a witches cackle escapes from your mouth you use your phasing abilities and a second later your idiot boyfriend has fallen onto the cold cement. He lets out a yelp as his hands reach out to catch his fall, he does a little tumble before sitting on the ground, a annoyed huff leaving his lips.

“Eww Y/N I was in you.” Whines Klaus as he picks himself up once again, you cross your arms and bite your lip in amusement.

“You didn’t think so this morning.”

“That was very different.”

“Yeah well your fatass was about to send me into the dirt. I happen to like this coat and would prefer to keep it looking snazzy.”

“Your snazzy can kiss my buns, I’m going home and then I can be in you...but not in that way.” He quickly adds as he reaches out for your hand, you gladly accept his appealing invitation and just like that the two of you make your way out of the park and towards the apartment building where some fun times await.

[angelinalifestyle]

 Right Color Combination For Varsity Jackets

 Oasis Jackets offers tips on selecting hues that match your style, team spirit, or school branding. Find inspiration to create eye-catching color combination, custom varsity jackets.

[thomsonsharon347]

Slaying In a Leopard Print Jacket This Winter In Australia

If you have a bold personality and a soft corner for the leopard print jackets, here is how are some tips about how to wear it this winter.

[jacketssupplier]

Buy a Winter Jacket Based on These 5 Vital Factors

Need some help in grabbing the best winter jacket? Read the blog! Visit: https://oasisjackets.postach.io/post/buy-a-winter-jacket-based-on-these-5-vital-factors

[etherealhood]

Permanent Chase - Part Three

author: @etherealhood

word count: 10,175

warnings: fluff, angst

a/n: and we’re back with another part of permanent chase! yes i included some of outlander’s plot line because that show’s the shit. also, this is really sweet because the guys are introduced so i hope you love this part as much as i do! thank you so much for the love on this, enjoy!

As Malia’s eyes looked over the fresh produce in front of her, she was pleased to see the ripe looking avocados. She picked up one that caught her eye and squeezed it, making sure it wasn’t too hard nor too soft. Satisfied, she placed that avocado and a few more that she’d deemed worthy into the bag along with her other fruits and vegetables, bringing it to the vendor who was selling produce.

“Thank you, keep the change.” She smiled kindly after she’d handed him the money, walking away with Atlas’ leash in her hand. He walked alongside her, his paws pattering against the pavement of the farmer’s market that she visited every Saturday, knowing that those were the best days for getting her errands done, and one of those tasks included grocery shopping. Looking down at Atlas, she saw his tongue hanging out of his mouth, a doggy-smile on his face. She chuckled as he sniffed at the ground and then sneezed afterwards.

It’d been almost a week since she’d met Calum, and ever since, he was the only thing on her mind. She kept thinking of the little things he did that night at the bar that reminded her of the man she married. The way his eyes would squint when he laughed, the way he smiled so brightly that it lit up the room, the way he seemed to be so caring and concerned for her after spilling his drink all over her. She’d also thought of him and the new person he’d become, the person he was in this life.

His body was painted with tattoos, some that she’d asked the meaning of. She’d caught a glimpse of the feather tattoo that was on his collarbone peeking out from his shirt and learned that it was supposed to be a silver fern for his mother. She’d asked who Mali-Koa was when she saw the name on his left arm and he told her it was her sister. He’d caught her looking at the three letters between his thumb and index finger and started talking about how it was his parents’ initials. He wore his leather jacket and his metal rings, holding himself confidently. He was like the sun, so radiant, so warm and she always loved that about him. He was pure energy, drawing her in like he’d done so many times before.

She learned that he was from Australia and had moved to Los Angeles when he was only a teenager. He didn’t dive into why he was living in Los Angeles, but he did tell her that his three best friends came along with him. He told her about his dog, Duke, who he was pretty sure was the love of his life. He told her about his love for music and his job at a music shop not too far from the bar.

Her thoughts were pulled from her soulmate as she saw that Atlas had started walking ahead of her, sniffing at the ground as he typically did when they were out of the house. His leash had gone under his legs and she didn’t want him to get tangled up like he had countless times already, so she bent down, unwrapping the rope from his legs. “You’ve gotta stop doing that, it’s getting ridiculous.” She sighed, the icy blue-eyed dog looking up at her and panting happily. “We should get home, huh, buddy?”

Standing back up, she looked at him for a quick second as they started walking in the direction of the car. Apparently, that quick second was enough time for her to walk into someone. “Woah.” She mumbled as she stepped back, the person she’d walked in to turning around and looking at her. A familiar man turned around, a small, confused frown on his face. His dark eyebrows were furrowed, but relaxed as recognition washed over him upon meeting Malia’s bright green eyes.

He turned around to face her, standing tall before her. “You know, you’ve got a bad habit of not looking where you’re going.” Calum smirked, his frown melting away as he teased Malia. 

With a soft laugh, she shook her head and looked at him. “Excuse me, but last time was your fault.”

“Okay, you’ve got me there.” He nodded, accepting what she was pinning on him. He felt snorts of air on his hand and his bushy brows furrowed again and he looked down, seeing Atlas sniffing at his hand. The little dog looked up at him, his bright eyes blowing Calum away. He bent down, getting on one knee to rub at Atlas�� jaw. “And who is this little guy?”

“His name is Atlas. I adopted him when I moved here.” She smiled as Atlas started licking at Calum’s hands, chuckles falling from Calum.

“When was that?” He asked, scratching behind Atlas’ ears, the dog relishing in his touch, his head leaning into Calum’s palm.

Malia shrugged and thought back to when she’d moved from Seattle to Los Angeles. “I don’t know. I think it was like eight months ago. I got a job opportunity with an old friend, so I figured I’d come back down here.”

Calum stood up to fully engage in the conversation with Malia, giving Atlas a pat on the head. “Where’d you-” He was cut off by a hand clapping on his left shoulder, a loud voice interrupting him.

“Cal! We thought we’d lost ya there for a second.” The man said, Malia instantly recognized the honey-haired man as the one she’d met at the bar the night she met Calum. He looked from Calum to her and his mouth parted, a bit of surprise flickering in his eyes. He shook away the shock and smiled at her. “Now I know why. It’s Malia, right? I’m Ashton.”

Malia nodded and returned his friendly expression as he stuck his hand out for her. “It’s nice to see you again, Ashton.” She adjusted the bag on her shoulder and shook his hand before letting go.

“Oh my god!” The three heard someone exclaim. They looked over to see a tall, blonde man looking at her in amazement. “Malia?” Her eyes widened upon seeing another one of the men from her life in Italy. Luke looked at her, the complete and utter confusion on his face, his blonde eyebrows scrunched up together.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Calum tilt his head slightly, sort of confused as to how his friend knew this awesome woman that he himself had only just met. How Luke knew her and how Calum had never heard of this girl, was beyond him. Malia was frozen, not exactly knowing how to approach the situation, not knowing how she was going to get herself out of this one.

Thankfully, Ashton seemed to notice the awkwardness and he was quick to cut in before either Calum or Luke made things more difficult for Malia. “So, Malia, what are you up to tonight? If you don’t have any plans, you should come to my place. I’m having a party, we’ll all be there.”

Malia kept her eyes off of Luke, knowing that if they made eye contact, he’d say something. “Is it someone’s birthday?” She asked, looking between Calum and Ashton.

“No, just felt like having a party.” Ashton told her, giving her a small smile. “So are you free? I know someone,” He nodded his head in Calum’s direction. “who would love to see you.”

With a chuckle, Malia looked at the dark-haired man who was rolling his eyes, scratching the back of his neck. He seemed to almost shoot daggers at Ashton, but then he looked at her with a sheepish smile. “I would like to see you tonight.”

Calum’s nervousness and embarrassment was very apparent. To some it might be weird because he has this thick aura of confidence, but Malia knew that he got flustered easily. He always did. She smiled at him, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked up at him. “I’ll be there.”

“Great! I’ll send you the details later?” He asked to which she replied with a nod.

“We should actually get going, we’ve got lots to do before tonight.” Ashton said to Calum. He then directed his gaze back to the green-eyed woman who his friend hadn’t stopped talking about since last weekend. “It was nice to see you again, Malia.”

“You too, Ash.” She said, not realizing she’d let his nickname slip until he gave her a nostalgic smile. She looked back at Luke, who was looking her up and down, almost as if he was trying to confirm her identity.

Ashton grabbed Luke’s arm, pulling him away from Calum and Malia. “Well, we’ll let you say goodbye to each other.” He dragged Luke behind him, whispering something to him as they got further away.

Calum popped back into her line of vision and gave her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about that. Ash… well, he’s just very outgoing. And I haven’t been talking you non-stop.” He said, adding on the last part quickly.

“You’re a liar.” Malia giggles, calling him out on his fib. He only returned her laugh and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He licked his lips and stared at her, seemingly comfortable with just being around her, just looking at her. He cleared his throat, snapping out of his trance. “Um, I should probably get going.”

“I’ll see you tonight?”

Calum nodded, his hands in his pockets. “I’ll see you tonight. Bye, Malia.”

“Bye, Calum.” She smiled, watching him turn and walk away.

-

When Malia pulled up to the house, she didn’t feel the need to confirm the address Calum had texted her with the address in the house. With the people stumbling around the yard and the loud music spilling into the street, Malia had a very strong feeling she was in the right place.

Getting out of her car, she shoved her cell phone in her back pocket, locking the car as she approached the house. She pushed open the front door and walked in, her nostrils instantly flooded with the strong aroma of sweat, alcohol, and different kinds of smoke. She scrunched up her nose, not at all used to the smell that she was drowning in.

“God, I’m old.” She mumbled to herself as she looked around. There were a lot of people, most of them either dancing obnoxiously on each other or drinking out of the red, plastic cups. Before she could walk any further into the house, she heard someone call her name. Looking to her left, she saw Ashton coming towards her, holding a plastic cup in his left hand. 

“You made it!”

“You really think I’d flake?” She teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Never in a million years. Need a drink?” He asked, noting that she was empty handed and still standing close to the front door. Malia nodded and Ashton cheered. “Follow me!” He started walking towards the kitchen, weaving through the bodies that had filled up his house. As she followed him deeper into the party, she started feeling suffocated. With all of the young people bumping into her and screaming around her as they sang along to the song blasting through the speakers, she was grateful her personality didn’t match the young, twenty-one year old body she was living in.

As they arrived in the kitchen, Ashton turned back to her, gesturing to the array of different alcohols that were on the counter. “Alright, pick your poison.” He said, watching as Malia looked over the bottles. Her eyes landed on a bottle of bourbon and she grabbed that.

When his eyes widened, she could tell he was surprised at her choice. It was hard to imagine that a girl like her would choose such hard alcohol. His expression made her laugh, before offering a shrug. “Go hard or go home, am I right?”

“Hell yeah!” Ashton nodded and grabbed the bottle from her, twisting off the cap and pouring just a little bit into a new cup he’d pulled from the stack. He poured some in another cup, which Malia assumed was his, before giving her the freshly poured cup of bourbon. He lifted his drink in the air. “Cheers!”

Malia tapped her cup against his, before bringing the rim to her lips and drinking it, swallowing it all in one go. She took her mouth off the cup and smiled, raising her eyebrows as Ashton gave her yet another confused expression. He shrugged and took a drink of his, his face scrunching up at the strong and bitter taste it left on his tongue.

He started coughing and shook his head, the grimace of disgust very apparent on his face. “Fuck, how do you do that?”

“Built up a tolerance to it, I guess?” She chuckled.

“How old are you?”

Malia hesitated before giving him the answer. She knew that his question had a double meaning. He remembered her, she knew that. It was so obvious that he remembered her. In that moment, he was asking her to tell him if his suspicions were true. She wasn’t shocked that he’d managed to find the perfect way of asking her the question she knew was dancing around in his brain.

“I’m twenty-one.” She said slowly, trying to get her own double meaning across.

He didn’t say anything in response, only nodded and accepted her answer. He licked his lips of the remnants of alcohol and let the confusion melt from his face again. He grabbed the bottle of bourbon and brought it to her cup, silently asking if she wanted more. She gave him the go ahead and he began pouring some of the dark liquid into the red cup. “Hey, I wanna introduce you to someone.” He said, gesturing to the back door, which was also crowded. As much as she didn’t want to walk through that disastrous amount of people, she did anyway.

“Lead the way.” He took her confirmation and started walking to the sliding door that was open, attempting to let cool air filter into the house that was starting to make her sweat. She followed him out onto the back patio, noticing that not many people were outside. She did see two men standing near a potted lemon tree, engaging in a conversation.

Upon getting closer, she noticed that one of the blonde men was Luke, enthusiastically telling something to another man wearing dark-rimmed glasses. The last and final one of her husband’s friends from Florence stood in front of him, his head turning to see Ashton and Malia walking towards him. She watched that same look of realization, that same epiphany that she’d seen cross over both Luke and Ashton’s face paint itself on his.

Her heart swelled, beating faster beneath her ribs when she realized three men she’d always trusted her whole life with were alive and remembered her. When she and Calum first fell in love in 1507, Ashton, Luke, and Michael accepted her with open arms, not caring at all about her low societal status at the time. They themselves were only stable boys and guards for the Bianchi family, but it still warmed her to know that when the unfortunate day that Calum wasn’t there to love her and keep her safe came, she had his three best friends, his closest confidants to take care of her.

Over the years, she thought frequently of them. She’d thought of the night Calum first died and how they helped her leave. They wrote her for years to come, sent her money to help her and her child get by, no matter where they might have ended up after leaving Italy. They sent her letters up until the day they died and since then, she’d always been alone. After they died, she realized what a curse it was to stay young while the people she loved aged and withered away.

When Michael looked at her, his light eyes widened and his body tensed up. “Hey, guys.” Ashton called out, he and Malia slowly walking up to the two men, her small height almost comical when she stood near them. It’s always been that way, so it didn’t bother her much. “So you’ve already met Luke, this is-”

“Michael.” Malia whispered, looking at him through her watery vision, her hand coming up to her mouth, fingers pressed to her bottom lip. Tears had pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill over as she stood in front of three of the four important people from her past. She nodded, silently telling him that she remembered; that she knew who he was and knew what he was thinking.

Michael’s tense body relaxed and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders before he pulled her into his chest, holding her as close to him as he could. She held on just as tight, her eyes closing as she let out a breath of relief, her tears rolling over the curve of her rosy cheeks. She buried her face into his black sweater, the cool metal of the chain around his neck pressing against the side of her face.

“You remember us, don’t you?” His hand cupped the back of her head, his lips pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. She pulled back and he looked at her, taking in every inch of her, trying to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Malia nodded, smiling through her happy tears. “How could I ever forget you strapping young men?” She teased, to which all three of her guys laughed. She looked at Ashton, who was wearing the biggest she’d seen in a long time.

“I knew you remembered.” He told her, his own arms circling around her and pulling her into his body, his cheek leaning on the top of her head. “I could see it by how shocked you were when you saw me last weekend.”

“How could you possibly remember that night? You were drunk off your ass.” Malia giggled, letting go of Ashton as she recalled his drunken night at the bar.

The dirty blonde haired man sighed and shook his head. “It’s wonderful to see you still have that fire, Lia.”

“So you’re just gonna let me stand here, without a proper greeting. After all we’ve been through?” She heard Luke from beside her scoff. She smiled and looked over at him as he shook his head in disbelief. “You’re absolutely shameful.”

“Oh, Luke. I was only saving the tallest for last.” She said and wrapped her arms around him, but his long arms snuck around waist and he lifted her off the ground, spinning her around.

“I’m not even six-four. I’m six-two, at best.” He said as he set her back on the ground, his arm resting over her shoulders, her own wrapped around his torso.

“Whatever, Hemmings.” Michael rolled his eyes.

Malia tilted her head and looked up at Luke. “Luke Hemmings?” She asked and he nodded like it wasn’t anything abnormal. She looked to the other two men. “And you two are?” The boys responded with their respective names. 

“Michael Clifford.”

“Ashton Irwin.”“

“What about you, Lia?” Michael asked. 

“Malia Bianchi.” She answered.

All three of the boys looked at her incredulously. “How do you still have your name?”

Malia sighed and shrugged, bringing her cup to her lips. “I’ve kind of been around since Florence.” She said, taking a sip of her bourbon, watching how they all looked amongst each other as if one of them would have the answers the other was searching for.

Luke’s eyebrows furrowed and he was mouthing something silently as he thought deeply. “So you’re-”

“529 years old? Yeah.”

All of the boys’ eyes widened as she bewildered them. Michael was the first to speak up. “So you’ve been around for over five centuries, how? And how are all four of us here?”

“Is this like… what’s that word? It means being born again or something?” Ashton started snapping his fingers, trying to get the word out of his head and off his tongue.

“Reincarnation?” Malia offered, to which Ashton snapped and pointed at her, her having given him the word he was looking for. She shrugged her shoulders, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t know. All I know is that the night the church burned in Florence, I saw a shooting star and wished that it would bring Calum back to me, and ever since I haven’t aged.”

“Does Calum know who you are?” Luke asked, running his hand through his long, curly hair.

“No, at least I don’t think he does. He’s never remembered me from the get go before.”

Ashton moves his hand in a circle, gesturing to the four of them in the circle. “So this has happened to you before? You and Calum have met like this before?” With a nod, Malia answered Ashton’s question. “Okay, wow.”

“Trust me, when I met him in Scotland was just as confused as you guys are. I spent over 200 years without him, confused as to why I was still living and suddenly he just reappeared.”

“What happened?” Michael inquired.

April 10, 1744

The best part about the spring-time was that all of the herbs were blooming again, ready to be picked and placed in jars for use later on. Being a healer in a castle in the highlands of Scotland practically ensured that Malia would use them up quickly. At this point in the year, the rambunctious Scottish men who’d gotten in drunken fights and the softly spoken women who were looking for something to heal their sick children’s ailments were flowing in and out of the healer’s quarters at multiple times of the day.

As she placed some of the picked herbs in a bowl for grinding, a stray, light-brown curl fell from the messy updo that Malia had thrown her hair up into that morning. She frowned and huffed, blowing it out of her line of vision so that she could see what she was doing. She hummed as she started sorting amongst her jars on the shelf, hoping to put what she’d found in both the garden outside and in the forest that was a ten minute walk from the castle, into that particular job.

The crackling of the fire from the fireplace made the light knocking at the entryway to the room almost inaudible. Malia didn’t hear someone until she heard heavy footsteps on the stone floor. The person behind her cleared their throat as she began to turn around, holding an opened jar of older herbs, her green eyes still glued to the pages of journal entries she’d written for herb grinding.

“And what trouble might you be in today?” She asked, turning fully to look at the person who’d entered the healer’s quarters. Once she looked up and saw who was standing only ten feet away from her, she felt all the oxygen drain out of the room, saw no one but the face of the man she’d fallen in love with over two centuries before her. His right hand clutched his left side, red blood dirtying his fingers as he looked at her with a hint of pain in his eyes.

In ways he looked the exact same he did when she last saw him, when he walked out of their bedroom and into the trap that had been set up inside the church. His dark hair was in the same messy curls that sat on top of his head, a couple falling over his forehead. His eyes were still that light brown that were full of youth and hopefulness. He still had that slight furrow to his bushy brows, his lips still that beautiful pink color she remembered kissing away until it was replaced with a swollen red.

But now, in the northern Scottish highlands rather than Italy, the tip of his ears and the apples of his cheeks were tinted with a pinkish hue from the slight chill that must’ve been outside. His hands were dirty, covered in both blood and dirt. His jaw was lined with prickly stubble. 

“C-Calum?” She stuttered out in a shaky breath, dropping the jar of germander she held in her hands. The glass shattered against the stone, the loud sound not doing much to pull her eyes away from the man who was wearing her husband’s face, her dead husband’s face.

After he died in 1511, Malia left Florence, telling Ashton, Luke, and Michael to inform everyone that she’d died along with her husband in the fire. She couldn’t handle the overwhelming grief she was suffering after his death. She couldn’t handle living in their home, sleeping in their bed, receiving looks of pity from those who knew Calum. She couldn’t handle a life in the city without the person she fell in love with. She couldn’t go on; not without her person.

But she had to. She had to stay strong. If not for herself, for that life they created growing inside of her belly.

After leaving her home, she found herself in Ireland, living with some of Ashton’s distant family. They welcomed her into their home and took care of the mourning, pregnant woman they’d taken in. Soon after her arrival in Ireland, she was giving birth to a daughter who looked so much like her father. They had the same dark strands of hair, the same brown eyes that sparkled in the sunlight.

When she found out she was pregnant, Malia never thought she’d be holding someone besides her lover’s hand as she pushed through the seemingly never ending pain of childbirth. But there she lied in the barn, surrounded by mid-wives and servants she hardly knew, welcoming their daughter. The relief that washed over her when she held that darling soul to her sweaty chest, her heart pounding as she suddenly felt everything would be alright again. As long as she had that little girl, as long as she got the chance to watch that angel grow up, she’d be happy again.

And she was happy. They were happy.

Malia watched her child, who her and Calum had once agreed to name Bella, grow from an infant into this happy five year old that was a carbon copy of the man who she’d given all of her heart to. Every time she saw her bright, childish smile, she’d get that same burst of happiness that she’d get when Calum smiled. When Malia laid in bed with the little one, she’d comb the curls back behind her ear with her finger, scratching at her scalp to get her to fall asleep like she used to do with her child’s father. And when she watched her sleep, she was vividly brought back to the nights she’d watch Calum sleep, his full lips in a pout, eyebrows slightly scrunched up as he dreamt.

Bella was the only light that Malia had in her life after what happened in Florence. When there were days she didn’t want to get out of bed, she’d hear Bella’s sweet voice calling her out of her despair. “Mama! Come play!”

God, did she adore everything about that little girl. That’s what made it so hard losing her. When Bella’s illness progressed to coughing up blood, Malia knew that she was going to experience another great loss for the second time in her life. She stayed with her, holding her close, stroking her hair and doing her best to sing songs to her through the tears that had her choking up. Feeling the last, raspy breath she took against the skin of her neck, a part of Malia knew she’d never come back from this. After that, she was gone. She wasn’t herself anymore.

The pain of losing a child took her heart, leaving her with an empty feeling. Realizing she’d lost the family she built and that she was alone once again, turned her into a person with a cold heart that was incapable of love. Just when Malia thought things couldn’t get any more unbearable, she realized she’d turned thirty and showed no signs of any illnesses or aging. Then she turned forty, then fifty, and she still had the face of a woman in her twenties.

As she stood in her quarters, staring into the face of a ghost, she’d been walking the earth for two hundred and fifty-five years. She kept her eyes on Calum, shaken to the core at the fact that one of her greatest loves was in front of her. “Ye okay, lass?” His voice asked, not having that Italian accent like it did when she knew him. Now he spoke like a highlander, his voice twisting with the Scottish tongue.

Her breathing shallowed, heavy pants leaving her lips, her chest rising and falling as she tried not to drop to the floor. “I-I’m fine. My apologies.” She began to stutter, not knowing what she was feeling. The look he gave her was one of bewilderment as she watched his facial expressions, hoping to see any form of recognition cross over his familiar face. But when she saw nothing, except confusion in his eyes, she knew he had no recollection of her.

Her eyes fell down to the wound he was holding. “You’re hurt.”

Calum shrugged, wincing after he did so. He closed his eyes in pain, letting out a small curse before opening them to address her comment. “They said you’d be able to help.” He told her. She walked closer to him, her body still trembling in disbelief.

“May I?” She reached out towards the hand that was holding his injury and looked up at him. He nodded slowly, his eyes burning into the side of her face as she looked back to his hand and gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist. The tingling feeling she got covered her fingertips, goosebumps rising to her skin. She felt Calum shudder at her touch as she pulled his hand away from his side and began examining the wound.

“Was a small graze of a blade.” He informed her.

“Come.” She gestured for him to follow her to a chair in the corner, which he did. He sat down slowly and she grabbed bandages and a bottle of whiskey that she kept for people who came to her with injuries. “Drink this, it’ll relieve some of the pain.”

Malia opened the bottle for him, handing it to him. He looked up at her and took the whiskey from her, keeping his eyes intently on her. She started by tearing the cloth covering his torso, exposing the flesh wound just a bit more. She began wiping away both the fresh and the drying blood gently, Calum wincing once again as she pressed a bit too hard. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve had much worse, lass.” He nodded encouragingly. “Somehow your touch makes it tollerable.”

He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t recognize her. He just, for the life of him, could not place where he’d seen her before. He’d never forget a face like hers, he’d never forget a pair of bright green eyes like those, so why was he having such a hard time remembering where he knew hers from?

The blush that rose to her cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by either one of them. Malia could feel the heat on the fullness of her cheeks and Calum could see how flustered he made her based on the way she seemed to give him a nervous smile and seemed to be at a loss for breath.

Little did he know that he made her nervous because she’d gone two centuries without seeing his face. She refused to say anything to him, to even look at him. How could she when she had so much to tell him, so much to say to him? And he so obviously didn’t recognize her. He was Calum, but he wasn’t Calum.

She swallowed the thick lump in her throat as she thought of those brown eyes she felt burning into her as she cleaned the wound, rubbing a lavender solution around the swollen and irritated skin on the side of his torso. He winced and she looked up at him through her long eyelashes, seeing the man above her with his lips rolled together to keep from releasing another groan of pain.

“Drink.” Her head nodded towards the bottle of whiskey. He followed her instructions, grabbing the alcohol from the table in front of him, taking a large gulp of the amber liquid. “How did you get this injury…?” She trailed off, not one hundred percent certain that this man’s name was still Calum as she remembered him to be.

“Calum.” He nodded, filling in the blanks for her. The way his own name rolled off his tongue reminded her of the way he used to say her name, reminded her of the way he used to tell her he loved her. In so many ways, this man was the one she married. His words still brought goosebumps to the surface of her skin, his deep and intent gaze still made her heart race. But he was also completely different. “It was just a little altercation.”

She raised a brow and tilted her head, hearing the reluctance of details in his tone of voice. She remembered that when he lied, he refused to make eye contact. It was interesting to see that was a trait he still had. “Really?”

“Yeah, um, a young lad stole a loaf of bread, so I took the punishment for him.”

He was still the man with a kind, golden heart.

This made Malia smile softly as she wrapped the bandage around his torso. “You’re a good man.”

“I don’t think having morals makes me a good man.” He said as she rose to her feet, taking the vial of lavender and the bandages to the apothecary table.

Malia turned back to Calum, his eyes still watching her like a hawk. “In times like these, having morals is all some people have.”

“In that case, you’re a good woman.” He rose from the chair he sat on, walking towards her. He stood in front of her, no more than two feet away from her. She could feel the heat his body seemed to always have radiating off of him. He reached past her and grabbed the cotton shirt that’d been bloodied and split open by the graze of another highlander’s sword. He pulled it over his head and thanked her once more, walking towards the door.

Once he stood in the doorway, he froze, his back to her as he tapped his fingers on the stone wall. He turned to look back at her. “You never gave me your name, Mistress.”

“Malia Bianchi.”

He seemed to recognize the name, the slight tilt of his head and the sparkle in his eyes giving her the assumption. He offered her a charming smile, one that was full of sincerity. His gaze fell to her left hand, the one that rested on her stomach. “Your husband’s a lucky man, Lia.” He told her, letting her nickname slip from his mouth. He didn’t notice what he’d called her, only gave her another look of recognition before giving her a nod and leaving her in the healer’s quarters.

It wasn’t until three days later that she’d really interact with Calum again. However, she’d see him in the dining hall and when she walked to where she slept. They’d make longing eye contact when they caught each other’s gaze in the gardens or coming back from the stables. Even when she went into town and would happen to see him, she’d caught him looking at her, a puzzled look on his face.

But one day, she was in the garden, picking more of the herbs she was running out of. A hand gently wrapped around her wrist as she went to pick some chamomile for a man that had been having stomach aches. She looked to the hand and followed it to its owner, seeing the one face she couldn’t seem to escape. His eyes were full of tears, the redness in his eyes taking her by surprise.

He pulled her up to stand with him, his hands moving to cup her cheeks as he looked over her face. A curl that had fallen from behind her ear was pushed back by his shaky fingers. His thumbs stroked over her cheekbones, a sigh of relief escaping him as he remembered the few freckles over the bridge of her nose, the fullness of her pink lips and the furrow of her eyebrows. “I’m a lucky man.” He mumbled, slowly leaning in to press his lips to hers in a kiss that spoke more than he could say.

The way he kissed her was the way old lovers would kiss for the first time after reuniting. The feelings that he was able to express with just the movements of their lips let her know he remembered. She dropped the basket of herbs she had, not caring that they’d scattered around their feet and had been ruined. She held onto his wrists, allowing him to kiss her deeply, trying to give her the kiss she’d been waiting over two hundred years to feel again.

Both Calum and Malia’s tears combined, nostalgia surrounding the cool, April air around them. His touch was gentle, but his kiss was needy. If she hadn’t known better, she’d think that he’d spent the last two centuries trying to find her. In that moment, she thanked the stars and the gods above for bringing him back, albeit she waited quite a long time for him.

They broke the kiss, but Calum rested his forehead against hers, the tips of their noses nuzzling. “You remember?” She asked in a whisper.

“I remember everything, darling.”

Malia teared up, remembering that day in the garden at Castle Doune. It was amazing, that first time seeing him. The start of the never-ending chase she didn’t think she’d endure happened that day in the garden, the sun shining down on them through the clouds.

She felt Luke circle an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. He kissed the crown of her head, rubbing her arm in a comforting manner. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hold, not knowing what else to tell the three men she’d just told a piece of her life story.

“What happened after he remembered?” Ashton asked.

“We remarried right away, and then a couple years later I lost him again in the Battle of Culloden. It was a Scottish rebellion in the 1700s.”

The Jacobite uprising in Scotland had been happening for decades. The Jacobites were a group of Scottish people that believed in the restoration of a Catholic king to the throne in England and Scotland. When Calum and Malia had reunited, it was nearing the peak of the uprising and eventually the Battle of Culloden would come to pass, killing many of the Scottish highlanders. Calum included in the many casualties of war.

Malia wiped her tears away with her finger. “Ever since, I’ve just waited for him to reappear and fall in love with me all over again.” She chuckled and took a sip of the drink in her cup. “It’s history’s worst game of hide and seek, really.”

She heard a sigh from Luke above her. Looking up at the tall man, she saw him shake his head sadly. “Not to be a downer, but good luck this time around.” He mumbled.

“What do you mean?” Her head tilted to the side in confusion. She looked around and noticed the looks that both Michael and Ashton were wearing. They seemed to agree with Luke’s cynical statement. “Why are you all looking like I might as well give up now?”

Ashton let out a breath, his eyes meeting Malia’s. “A few years ago, when we’d just moved here to Los Angeles, Calum met this girl and they started dating. And he was just so in love with everything about her. You know how Calum is.”

Malia cut him off and nodded. “When he loves, he loves entirely.”

“And when he hurts, he feels it all at once.” Ashton agreed with a nod. “She was no good for him, she broke his heart and it just really ruined him. He hasn’t really been the same since.”

“He like swore off love after. Says it’s a scam.” Michael added.

“God damnit.” She cursed, leaning back against the railing of the patio. She began twisting her ring on her finger, anxiously playing with it as she always did.

“Lia, it’s gonna be fine. We know how Calum loved you back then, and from what you’ve told us, you’ve got something too strong for him to just ignore.” Ashton reassured her, a small smile on his face as he looked at her. “He’ll remember.”

Before Malia could speak, she heard the door slide open and when they all looked up, Calum walked out, looking around as if he was searching for something. His eyes landed on his friends and the new woman in his life. He smiled when he saw that the guys looked comfortable with Malia and she looked comfortable with them.

“I was almost starting to think you stood me up.” He said, walking towards them and stopping next to Ashton. His and Malia’s eyes met, a small flicker of that familiar longing gaze shared between them momentarily. It felt good, felt right.

“This would have to be a date for me to stand you up.” She teased.

Calum chuckled softly. “Well, if we part off from these dorks, it’ll be a date?” He offered, shrugging his shoulder with a bashful smile. Malia bit her lip and nodded, smiling brightly, the apples of her cheeks coated with a blush. She walked toward him, his hand held out for her to take. He laced her fingers with his and pulled her a bit closer, surprising his friends at his comfort with this new relationship.

“Uh, we’ll catch you guys later.” Malia said to the three men she’d welcomed back in her life.

“Catch you later, Lia.” Michael grinned, waving her off. Luke and Ashton followed suit, saying their own form of a goodbye. Calum and Malia turned around, walking off from the house and to the other side of the backyard where a porch swing was.

When they sat down, they just fell into a great conversation so easily. Nothing between them was never forced, never awkward or boring. They could talk for hours about anything, picking each other’s brains and learning who each other was all over again. That was what so great about what they had, it was never completely different than the love they shared before.

In fact, it was nearly the same. Their souls were always intertwined. They always shared that beautiful bond and that strong friendship in the midst of their passionate romance. Before anything, before being lovers, they were always each other’s best friend.

“Okay. Favorite song?” Calum asked before taking a drink of whatever was in his cup, watching as Malia’s eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Favorite song? God, I don’t even know.” She chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. “I’ve listened to like everything.” With as much time as she’d spent on Earth, she’d had the opportunity to listen to nearly every kind of music. It was really hard to pick one of the millions that she’d heard as her favorite.

“Come on. You don’t have a favorite song? Nothing that just makes you feel warm inside when you hear it?”

Malia laughed again, resting her head on the heel of her palm as she perched her elbow on the back of the porch swing they sat swinging on. Her legs were tucked under her, her body facing Calum as they talked. She thought over Calum’s question.

She looked up at him with those green eyes of hers and smiled softly as a song came to mind. “I’d have to say… Songbird by Fleetwood Mac.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard it.”

“Well, we’ll have to change that sometime.” She suggested to which he agreed with a large grin. “Okay, my turn. What’s your biggest fear?” She asked, as Calum handed her his cup, sharing with her like he’d been doing all night. 

Calum looked at his hands and frowned. Truthfully, he only had one big fear. But as he thought about it more and more, he didn’t know if it was appropriate to share with someone so early in an almost relationship. He bit his lip and looked back at her, her beautiful green eyes watching him intently, awaiting his answer. Her soft expression made him feel inclined to share “Love.”

His answer left her speechless. What more could she say? How could she really respond to that when her sole purpose in his life was to love him? The brief look on his face contradicted his words and if she didn’t know him, she wouldn’t have seen it cross over his expression. But once again, she found herself thanking the skies above that she knew him so well. 

Even after all the heartbreak she was briefly informed of by the guys, she could still tell that deep down, he wanted to love entirely. He wanted to be that hopeless romantic that he once was and she could tell, just by the way he philosophically spoke of love that he was still that romantic soul she fell in love with. It reminded her of the way he always spoke about love and happiness. He’d forever had such a tender heart and he was never afraid to share it with her. It was one of his best qualities.

Sometime throughout him talking, Malia and Calum finished their drink and she found her hands empty of anything to fiddle with. So, as she always did, she began subconsciously twisting the golden ring on her left index finger.

Calum’s eyes fell down to her small hands as she played with the ring, still explaining her input on their discussion. He couldn’t help but feel that this ring was familiar, that he’d seen it before. That feeling was just so strong. He’d knew where he’d seen it, but for some reason he couldn’t say it, he physically couldn’t. It was frustrating, like having the word you need to say on the tip of your tongue, but not knowing it.

Malia was quick to notice that his mind was just a little bit in the clouds. She followed his gaze to her ring and had an inkling she knew what he was thinking. “You okay, Cal?”

His dark eyes looked back to her, his eyebrows scrunched up slightly. “Where’d you get your ring? You’ve been playing with it all night.”

She stopped twisting her ring and looked down at him, remembering the day he proposed to her in Florence. If she was being honest, she wasn’t expecting him to propose, but in hindsight she should’ve. He was nervous and not like himself all day, her nerves were honestly off the charts just because she’d figured he was going to call off what they had. He’d just become head of the family business and she was sure that meant he would take another woman as his wife.

“Someone I used to know gave it to me.” Malia took it off her finger and held it out for Calum to take in his hand. He looked over it, that frustrated feeling of familiarity evident on his face.

When he looked back up at Malia, he could see the sadness in her eyes. He could tell from the way she seemed to be hurting so deeply, that whoever it was, was someone that she loved entirely. And honestly, he felt that he knew and understood what she was feeling. Although he’d never loved anyone in the way he could tell she did, he really feels her pain like it’s his own. “You lost him, didn’t you?”

Malia was taken back to when she received the news of his death in 1945. The military officer came to her door, regretfully informing her that she was a widow. After reminiscing that painful memory, she remembered every other time she’d learned of his death, but nothing would ever hurt quite as much as having lost him in the Battle of Culloden.

Malia begged him not to fight, she begged him to stay out of the series of battles the highlanders fought in, but she couldn’t stop that stubborn man, especially if he believed in something wholeheartedly. Many of the men Calum had grown up around, much of the men in his family were highlanders that fought in the battles, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t alongside those men until the very end.

He thought they’d win. He thought the Scots would win and it would be that, James VII of Scotland would be made king and the Catholic king that the Scottish wanted would be on the throne rather than a Protestant. It wasn’t that simple. The British won, killing so many men, ending the Jacobite rebellion. The British and the rebellion took her husband.

The night of the battle, after everyone was either dead or receiving care for their injuries, Malia stumbled across the field, looking for her husband. She looked through the piles of bodies, hoping and praying to see Calum alive and struggling to get out from underneath someone. It sure beat the alternative that he was dead.

After a couple hours in the cold, when she began to feel the chill in her bones, she saw him. His eyes were open and void of any life, blood covering every inch of his body. His shirt was drenched in both dirt from the mud on the moor and blood, some of it, she was sure, wasn’t even his. Her eyes began to burn with hot, salty tears as she bent down, pushing the British soldier that laid dead on top of him, his body falling with a thump to the frozen ground.

“No, no, no. This can’t be happening, not again.” She got on the ground and pressed her ear to his heart, praying to God himself that her husband wasn’t dead, that she hadn’t lost him for the second time. She should’ve known that she was delusional to think he was still alive, but the first time she lost him the pain almost killed her, this time she was sure it would. He was so clearly gone, but when she laid her head over his heart, she listened in the dead, quiet night, hoping to hear it beating. She hoped to hear anything.

That was when she learned that sometimes silence speaks the highest of volumes.

She closed her eyes and cried again, burying her face into his chest before sitting down onto the ground. She pulled him onto her lap and lifted her knee, so she could see his face better. Some of the black curls of his fell over his forehead, she pushed them back with her trembling fingers, her eyes roaming over his face. His lips, were blue, his body and his skin wasn’t warm to the touch like it usually was. His eyes were lifeless and it broke her further to see the emptiness in them. A loud cry racked through her aching body as she covered his eyes with her hand, her forehead leaning against the back of her hand as she closed his eyes.

What hurt, so much more than she thought could hurt, was that as she pulled him closer, his body was heavy. She held his head to her chest, the most broken of all cries echoing in the body-filled expanse of Culloden moor. Her heart broke, feeling his frozen skin against her heart which had began to beat slower. She felt her heart slow and she was sure she was dying. Truthfully, that’s all she wanted, that’s all she hoped for. Anything was better than this pain.

She looked back down at him, her fingertips gently skimming over the sides of his face, his stubble scratching at the pads of her fingers. Closing her eyes and bringing him closer, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his, disgusted with the way she could practically taste his death on her them. She pressed the side of her cheek to his, sobbing as she whispered in his ear, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” over and over and over again.

As she flashed back to the present, she looked back at Calum and nodded sadly. She did lose someone. She lost him and she’s always losing him. She’s always losing someone she loves. Watching people outlive you is the worst curse and she damned the universe for placing this life upon her. Because she’d never known real pain until she lost Calum and Bella.

It hurts that losing people seems to be the only thing she’d ever been good at.

“Yeah, it was a long time ago though.”

Calum could feel the gut wrenching pain rolling off of her in tidal waves, could see it in the expression painting itself on her beautiful face. “How do you deal with it?”

Malia was silent for a moment before she said anything. Because she honestly doesn’t know how she deals with it. She’d almost been forced to accept that eventually, she’ll be all alone again. Everytime Calum dies she’s forced to accept that she’s alone. And she hated, more than anything she’s encountered in her five centuries on this planet, the wretched realization that she’s alone. “The only thing I can really do is take it one day at a time.”

The man in front of her doesn’t say anything. He’s beating himself up for bringing up something that was obviously a touchy subject for her. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to make her happy again. Instead of using his words, he uses his actions to express the kindness in his heart. Gently, he takes her hand in his, he slides the ring back onto her left index finger, rubbing his thumb over the golden piece of jewelry before tenderly kissing it.

His brown eyes connected with her green ones before offering her his beautiful smile. “You won’t be sad forever, Malia. I’ll make sure of it.” He promised, his voice soft, but the way his lips moved drew her attention to them and made her think that his lips looked softer.

More often than not, she knew what to say to Calum. She always knew how to respond to him. But right then and there, on Ashton’s back porch swing, she was left without words, without air in her lungs really. Even though she knew him, probably better than he knew himself, she was sometimes left surprised at just how good he could be to her and just how sweet what he says to her could be.

She loved him so much and this was one of the moments where she ached for him to remember who they were. She wanted to tell him she loved him, to kiss him with all the love she had for him in her heart. She didn’t know how to say it without saying it, so she just hoped that he’d get the hint and kiss her already.

Calum, on the other hand, was already so infatuated with this girl that it was just blowing him away. It was scaring him how much he yearned to have her near him. He wanted so badly to hold her close and feel the warmth of her body. He wanted to intertwine his fingers with hers and give her sweet kisses. For some reason, he was able to so vividly see them together. It was almost like memories were flashing through his head as he thought about sleeping next to her and waking up to see her still snoozing, or his lips kissing all over her body.

He wanted nothing more between them than the simple intimacy that came from a relationship. A few weeks ago, he’d never think he’d crave someone he’d just met like he did her. He’d never think he wants a relationship. And more than anything, he never thought that he could fall in love with someone’s soul like he was falling in love with Malia’s.

They were both slowly leaning in, and once their faces were only inches apart, Calum brought his hand up to cup the side of her neck like he’d done that night they met at the bar. He traced the outline of her heavenly lips with the pad of his calloused thumb. “I’m going to kiss you now. Is that alright?”

“Yeah.”

He leaned in further, pressing his lips softly against hers. His eyelids fluttered closed and he was sure that he’d never tasted anything so sweet nor felt anything so soft. He’d never had the thought that someone’s lips were meant for him to kiss and admire. The kiss blew him away and knocked him off his feet, causing him to pull away after only a couple seconds.

His eyes popped open and were wide as Malia opened her own, wanting his kiss back. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion watching as multiple emotions flicker over his face and twinkle in his eyes. The tip of his nose was still grazing hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them as they looked into each other’s eyes.

Calum didn’t say anything, but he put his thumb back over the curve of her bottom lip, looking at the gorgeous flush of red that was beginning to develop. He shook his head and leaned in again, kissing her much harder this time. Everything he’s ever wanted is sitting in front of him, kissing him with just as much as ferocity as he kisses her with. He tried to express that as he kissed her. He tried his absolute best to share that he wants her more than anything.

Somehow, Calum can’t help feeling that she’s it for him. It may be ridiculous seeing as her only known her for a little over a week, but in that moment, he was sure he’s found his soulmate. It’s impossible to believe that kissing someone, a stranger really, could leave you dizzy and unable to grasp the concept of reality. Her kiss felt like being on a roller coaster. It made his heart race and his stomach drop in a good way, taking him through all kinds of loops.

His right hand traveled up from its place on the side of her neck to cup her cheek. The kiss was fierce and burning, a warming fire igniting itself in both of them. He pulled her closer, her knees pressing into his thigh as her hand grasps his bicep, squeezing softly as she melts into his hold.

A small, content moan of approval falls from Calum onto Malia’s lips, her mouth opening as she gasps. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, deepening their actions. It’s nearly impossible for either of them to pull away, even with their lungs losing air, but it somehow still feels like the other is giving them the oxygen they need to live after drowning.

Malia’s breathless as she puts her hand on Calum’s chest, right above his heart. She broke away from him, their lips parting with a small smack. She leaned her forehead against his, smiling as goosebumps rise onto her skin. “I can‘t breathe.” She whispered in a breathy laugh. Her eyes were closed as Calum grabbed her hand and held it over his heart.

“I’m sorry. Just can’t get enough of you, gorgeous.” He told her. Slowly opening her eyes, she looks at him fondly, her lips swollen just like his. He had a lazy smile tugging at the corners of

his mouth, his eyes twinkling with adoration as he scanned her face. He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on her bottom lip. “Do you wanna leave, maybe go get something to eat?”

“Yeah.” She grinned, Calum getting off the swing and standing before her. He held out his hand for her to take and she did before he pulled her onto her feet. He laced their fingers together and walked with her through the yard to the gate and found his car.

Within minutes, they were off to wherever Calum planned taking them, one of his hands resting on her thigh the other on the steering wheel. She traced shapes on his wrist, her nails lightly scratching at his skin. He has a permanent smile on his face because truly, nothing has ever been so perfect.

-

@h0tsos @let-us-eatcake @talkfastang @curly-cal

[roswellroamer]

Day 8. February 6, 2020. Owaka to Invercargill (the long way). 275km

Woke up and commenced packing. When staying at a place for more than one night, most of the gear and clothes get unpacked so it takes the better part of 45' to reorganize and repack then reload and secure the gear in and on top of the bike. It was about 50° this AM so left a polartec layer to soften the chill and a perusal of the NZTA government site showed the southern route directly west to Invercargill was open. Yeah! We rode out about 8:15 and cruised on what was now a somewhat familiar scenic ride westward. We made it to Papatowai and once again, as we saw yesterday, there was a police car in the road. Immediately the pit of your stomach churns. Having checked out and a reservation awaiting in Invercargill for the next three nights along with the Burt Monro rally fun all contributed to some anxiety that we might not be able to make it happen. Every other thought was about the more than a meter of rain which fell in 48 hours earlier this week and where and how would ALL that water make its way south. But the NZTA site said the road was open! The officer was very nice and explained that we needed to return to Owaka and make a left turn at the Lumber Jack (last night's tasty dinner location). Then we'd proceed over a gravel road through the Owaka valley and up to Clinton and head west to Mataura en route to Invercargill. We rode back the 27km to Owaka and then proceeded through the scenic valley and westward to Mataura. We should've been more suspicious of the lack of bikes within 150 km of Invercargill. As we pulled into the central area of Mataura the main Hwy 93 was completely blocked by sand bags at least 4' high. Although the road was dry, it was apparent that floodwaters had swirled there in the recent past. We saw three other bikers who approached us and explained that they weren't able to bypass the flooding in town. It's heartening to wake up to What's App messages complaining/wondering what happened since I fairly abruptly ended my blog as I was just too tired to continue. (Richard!) At least I know someone is reading... I don't write this for others, mostly for myself to have a record of these adventures so I don't forget the little and interesting things that happen on a daily basis. One of the daily pics shows the sand bag barrier on route 93 and the fire/rescue folks who described for us the next route to take to attempt to get to Invercargill. We rode again eastward on the opposite direction of our destination to Clinton and found the only cafe open for a quick drink/bite and a bathroom break. At Clinton we noticed one thing right away. For the first time in days we were on a busy road (Hwy 1) and it was steadily streaming trucks and more interestingly to me, bikes! Now, with a brief stop, we joined the flow again towards the elusive Invercargill after a 170km double detour. At least we got some fantastic scenery and rainbows so no complaints.

The highway from Clinton to the next town of Gore has prompted a humorous gesture by the NZ transportation agency. They have a sign as you depart Clinton heading the 44kms to Gore that proclaims it the "Presidential Highway". 😆 Very funny! Gore was surprisingly large with loads of bikes getting gas and finding one of the dozens and dozens of restaurants there to eat. We continued on after passing over the Mataura River bridge where the railroad trestle immediately downstream was nearly submerged. The road continues along the river and was closed due to flooding so all traffic was diverted about 30km on a series of more western roadways and eventually we met up with 1 again for the half hour ride remaining into Invercargill. Mother Nature opened up on us for a while but only hard for 15-20 minutes and it abated just prior to entering town. We rode in by the much discussed transport museum and into center city. We got an apartment in a Quest building right next to the central traffic circle in the town's center. Fantastic location. Not a full service hotel, but a building of nicely appointed apartments with a front desk that is manned for check-in hours only. Only a couple blocks from both the Classic Motorcycle Mecca museum and then the other way to the famous and historic E. Hyde hardware store. The store that is not only huge but houses Burt Monro's workshop (behind glass), loads of vintage bikes on display interspersed with their merchandise, a full Indian dealership within and of course anything you could think of to purchase! The motorcycle museum was also visited and did not disappoint. Over 300 very significant bikes of marques that extended beyond my knowledge base. They also have in their basement a collection from a NZ motorcycle racer named George Begg who became a car designer (he didn't race the cars). He made stunning and well known cars which won races around the world. We decided to then ride out to the official rally site towards the beach. About 9 km to Oreti Beach. There was a tent and a steady line of people filling out registrations. I opted for the $60NZ rally pass which provides access to the rally site which includes camping and the vendor and food tents as well as evening entertainment tents. It also provides a 50% discount on all rally event tickets which are normally $20NZ (less than $13). I bought all the remaining event tickets. Drag races today, beach racing tomorrow, Saturday's sprint races and speedway races ending with Sunday's street races.

We toured the motorcycle safety tent and picked up some safety swag (earplugs, visor cleaning cloth, kickstand pad) and were then drawn into a discussion with a researcher from Australia who is trying to promote two things. One was a geometric design that allows urethane to be produced into a much more flexible design than the D30 armor. It is much more ventilated, flexible and lighter than the armor used by most manufacturers. He had printed it up on his 3D printer and it slowly crushes under pressure. Made great sense to me, hopefully more companies will adopt this. Also he was promoting "MotoCAP". This is a way of testing all motorcycle protective gear in three modes (abrasion, impact and a third one involving energy dispersion that I can't remember now that I'm typing this the next day!) in the same way that cars in the USA get a crash rating, clothing would all be ranked and consumers would be informed about which items perform well in which modes for their information. This guy is conducting the tests on various items. He did say that the Klim Badlands jacket (one version heavier than the Latitude I wear) was the best textile jacket they had tested to date since he saw me wearing my Klim. We strolled through the entertainment tent which was largely empty save for a stage and an official merchandise vendor. We got in line and bought a couple items to remember this event by in the future. There was also a food tent with 5 food trucks set up to deliver to campers and anyone wanting some unhealthy treats while on site. Who am I to talk! 😉 The drag races we're getting ready to start at 6 or so it said on the ticket so we rode the short distance over to Teretonga race track. They have a gravel road that connects the rally campgrounds directly to the track area so the rally campers don't need to put a helmet on for the short ride to watch the race. We strolled through the paddock area and saw a large diversity in the bikes. Some modified Hayabusas, some extended swing arm bikes with wheelie bars behind and some 150cc Vespa scooters rusting out! The drags were sponsored by Harley and we met the Harley agent in our apartment/hotel as she unloaded flags destined to the track event we were now attending. Speaking of unhealthy foods, we both decided to support the local netball team by purchasing a sausage from them for $2NZ. What a delicious bargain. Complete with Cole slaw, cooked onions and mustard and wrapped by a piece of bread. Best deal ever. The track was not really that organized. I don't think the first racers went off the line until 6:45 and it was not warm but the setting sun kept the hard chill away. Maybe it was 56° but very windy. In fact they discussed shortening the 1/4 mile distance due to the risk of blowing racers across the track but they kept it at the standard length. The races were fun to watch. Especially the unmodofied and less experienced riders with incredibly powerful machines that had difficulty keeping their front ends on the pavement. One guy went nearly vertical and somehow managed to save it! A grizzled biker with a nearly as grizzled brown duster unloaded his brown duffel from his shoulders and spent the time smoking hand rolled cigarettes by us. There was also a Maori with full face tattoo art by us. And some rubes as well. (Rich urban bikers) Varied bikes and diverse crowd. A little bit of everything here and lots of eye candy. Even saw a "new" Triumph Rocket 3 R down the street today. The guy should've cleaned it up! It was showing loads of dirt from riding in the rain. I just picked up my new Triumph Rocket 3 TFC two days before departure. I had placed a deposit on it when they announced over 6 months ago and I am very impressed with that machine... 🤩 Ah, I digress.

With the sun setting on the Twilight event, we did decide to leave before it was over after standing for more than 2 hours (no bleachers/seats) and the cold setting in. We found a mini market to get a few essentials for the apartment and headed back to town. After some vino and snacks we meandered down the street to find a cafe that was part of a hotel and we enjoyed a mushroom pizza and a beer before the day caught up with me and I was unable to put much down on the blog before nodding off.

https://www.transportworld.co.nz/motorcycle-mecca/

[shreddedparchment]

Parallel Pt.02

Heartbroken

11/18/2018

Pairing: Steve x Reader          Word Count: 2,674

Masterpost          Warnings: Angst, language

A/N: I’m in that head space when these new stories are kinda writing themselves. Anyway, I hope you like this little chapter. I mean, I cried? So...yeah...As always, if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Nervous is how you feel the entire flight from Australia to Norway.

When you land, it's dusk and the horizon burns red orange as the sky above slowly shifts from deep purple to an inky black.

The color of the coming night reminds you of your face. Your black eye is pretty terrible to look at and you keep getting stares as you exit the small airport.

The next stop is a boat.

You miss being able to fly places yourself. This time of year, when fall is turning to winter, Norway’s biting cold shocks your system. You miss the warm Australian atmosphere, but you keep Thor in mind. Getting back to him is all that matters.

So, you steel yourself against the inconveniences of having to take a cab to your boat and then ride a boat for an hour in cold waters to get to the Lofoten Islands.

A sharp knock on the glass of the front viewport startles you. The kind and excited Norwegian boat Captain points to the left.

“Se! Sølvbyen!” He smiles a toothy grin.

You follow the indicated direction and your jaw drops. Slowly you rise and move to stand in the doorway that leads out to the deck.

New Asgard, this New Asgard, even in the fading twilight shines like a beautiful polished silver jewel nestled on tall green and white cliffs.

This New Asgard is at least ten times larger than the New Asgard you spent time in with Thor. His palace rises high into the sky, reflecting the stars and moonlight making the whole city look like an enchanted fairyland.

So different. It's all so different. How can it all be so much better for everyone else and not you?

The city falls from view as the boat approaches the base of the cliff and docks at a large station. There are tons of people disembarking off of small boats like your own, but a larger ship brings streams of excited Norwegians and tourists, all of them following the dock up towards a beautiful wood and steel staircase that leads up to a smaller station with what looks like elevators.

You look at the captain with a quizzical brow, “Why are there so many people?”

“De er her for feiringen.” He says with a small laugh, thinking you stupid for not knowing.

You quickly sift through the Norwegian you know, trying to translate in your head as fast as possible. “Feiring? Celebration? What celebration?”

The captain laughs at you, thinking you’re joking and waves you off.

You slowly limp off of the boat, drawing your jacket up higher around your white tee. Jeans and a tee were a terrible choice for Norway.

“Lykke til.” The captain calls out to you and you watch him pull out and sail back into the night.

With no other choice than to move with the crowd, you slowly follow the flow of the bodies that laugh and joke. It’s such a babble of languages that you can’t pick out one from another.

The queue at the elevators is long but moves quickly. You wait only ten minutes before you shove your way onto one of the large glass boxes, reinforced with steel and wood. This New Asgard is definitely much more well off than the small humble one you'd enjoyed with Thor.

You move straight to the back of the box and turn, carefully using your arms to block people from jostling you. Your ribs, as you had suspected are indeed broken, fractured actually which is not as bad but they still fucking hurt.

Funnily enough, it feels reminiscent of your first injuries at Avengers compound when the Shadow had attacked looking for the serum and you’d spent the following week limping around with a cane for an injured leg, broken ribs, and small cuts.

It feels strange that you seem to have almost the exact same injuries even though this is a much different reality.

“I hope they have lots of food. I’m starving.”

“Are you kidding? A celebration of this size? I doubt they’ll run out of anything. These Asgardians are really generous.”

You peek over the shoulder of an older lady on your left and spot two girls, no older than sixteen or so, giggling excitedly.

“Do you think we'll get to see him?” The blonde girl asks.

“Thor?” Asks the brunette. “Duh, it's his celebration.”

Your heart begins to pound at the mention of your husband and you quickly push your way closer to the two girls. The offended older woman in front of you gasps and pushes back slightly making your ribs burn.

“Personally, I hope I get a look at Loki…he’s so hot.” The brunette confesses.

The blonde glares at her friend. “Ew, Lisa, after what he did to New York how can you even stand to look at that creep?”

“Hey, people change.”

“Excuse me.” You swallow hard, eager to get some info on Thor.

The two girls turn to look at you, slightly surprised, the blonde still frowning about her friend's love for Loki.

“You said this celebration is for Thor? What exactly are they celebrating?” You ask, a small uncertain smile plastered on your beaten face.

The two girls exchange a long look as if they cannot believe that anyone who is here would not know what the Asgardians are celebrating.

As the elevator doors open and people begin to file out the blonde turns her gaze back to you looking slightly crestfallen.

“Its for Thor's engagement. He’s going to marry the Lady Sif.” The blonde sighs sadly.

Her words freeze you, you’re not here, where are you? Numbness fills your chest and once again you have no beating heart. This can’t be happening.

As the girls leave you to your numbness you watch as the brunette rubs the blonde's shoulder comforting her friend at the tragic loss of her crush.

Almost as if you’re floating, you drift out of the elevator and trudge painfully through the crowd.

Asgardians are lined up along the road from the elevators to welcome the tourists, but you don’t give them a glance. You're too busy trying to keep your shit together. You force yourself to move faster along the beautiful cobble road. Trying to ignore the pain as you pass street vendors in old wooden and stone type stalls to fit the Asgardian aesthetic. Lanterns light up the streets and music plays from almost every building giving the city a laid back, party vibe.

Laughter floats around you in harsh contrast to the agony you slowly feel is beginning to consume you.

You continue to follow the flow of the crowd. Asgard is massive and there are so many people everywhere. Is this the glory that Thor had spoken of? Was this the might of Asgard?

Slowly you begin to recognize the twists of the streets as the ones you walked so long ago with Thor and the people of Asgard. You turn right and pass the smithy you'd first seen on your visit with Thor. Then the school and then the Tavern. The door swings open and raucous laughter floats out intermixed with music and the clinking of steins.

You turn your eyes to Thor's palace as it grows closer and the crowd begins to get thicker until finally, about a hundred yards from the front stairs that Thor had once presented you to his people on, you find yourself unable to get closer.

You strain against the mixture of Asgardians and tourists trying to get a little higher to see but you're saved the trouble as Thor moves up a few steps before he stops and offers his hand to someone below and out of sight.

The sight of him hits you like the sharp bite of a snake. Its piercing and sudden and painful. But he’s still so beautiful. His hair is still short, and his beard is thick. His blue eyes sparkle as he waits for the person he beckons.

That should be you. He should be reaching for you.

A milky white hand moves up from the base of the stairs, reaching for Thor. The hand is followed by the regal form of an Asgardian woman with dark brown hair that falls in cascading waves along her back. Her dress is silver, floor-length, and matches the silver embellishments of Thor's new armor. Hair her is pinned back with beautiful shining opal berets to keep it from falling in her face.

She definitely looks the part of Thor's betrothed, much more than you ever did. It hurts, and you reach up to clutch at the base of your chest.

For a moment you can’t breathe. “No.”

Your whisper draws the attention of an Asgardian woman who turns to glare at you.

Stupid Midgardian woman objecting to Thor's marriage to a true Asgardian? How dare you?

But that’s where you belong. She's in your spot!

Thor takes her hand and wraps it around his left elbow and leads her up to stand at the top of the stairs so that everyone can look on his future bride.

He raises a hand, and everyone goes silent. Although music and laughter continues to flow in from the city behind you, here by the palace, the silence is heavy.

“Thank you all for coming to help me celebrate the choosing of my bride.” He looks at Sif, staring at her with an affection that makes your heart clench. “I am not exaggerating when I say that I have been quite blind for hundreds of years to the clarity that my own mother often expressed. Perfection was before me and I did not see it.”

“Better late than never.” Sif jokes, squeezing his arm.

Thor beams at her and it kills you. This can’t be happening.

“I have often wondered if I would ever find a woman strong enough to rule Asgard at my side and I am glad to say that I have finally found her. Sif, my friend and counsel…my Blossom, I am very happy to present you tonight as the future Queen of Asgard.”

Blossom? Blossom? Did he just call her…you let your gaze fall away from them as your heart shatters to pieces. Grief begins to consume you as you succumb to the agony that you not only lost Thor, but this seals any hope of ever getting your baby girl back.

You shut your eyes and don’t even feel the tears as they fall. As the crowd cheers around you, you turn your gaze back onto Thor’s smiling face and watch him lean down towards Sif's cheek to press a soft kiss. She shuts her eyes, the utter happiness she exudes chokes you. That should be you.

As you watch him happily love his new betrothed, your mind is suddenly filled with his words, spoken on a rooftop in Wakanda what feels ages ago.

“My love, I’m sure that even if we use the watch there must be a way to hold on to what we have. This love between us does not just disappear. And we can make this baby again.”

You'd known then that it would be impossible. It was a fool’s hope. You’d wanted to believe that you and Thor could weather any storm. That even if the universe separated you that somehow, you and he would find your way back to each other. You'd feared this outcome. You’d dreaded it. You'd had nightmares about it and here it is in shocking reality. Thor doesn’t care for you anymore. He’s moved on. Your baby girl is nothing but a blip in your own memory and as you think about her, tiny and perfect, kicking you from within, your face crumbles.

Thor suddenly turns to look over the crowd and for a terrifying moment, you feel like his eyes find you. For two seconds he stares in your direction. Embarrassment and pain drive your gaze down.

You wait a moment then chance a glance back up at him and Sif but they’re no longer standing by the stairs. They’re moving into the palace as the crowd begins to disperse around you to join the many small celebrations going on throughout the city.

You’re left standing in the middle of the road, alone and without hope, crying because what else can you do? You pass your hands over your stomach and your pain is renewed stronger.

With a quivering lip you look back up towards the palace doors and consider going up there and knocking on the damn door.

But doing that would require you have some hope and you don't.

If Thor really did spot you in the crowd and if he did recognize you, then he either doesn’t remember your life together or he doesn’t care.

Six months. Six blissful months before he left, that was all this version of you had. Without the Snap he has no reason to seek you out, just as you feared.

Suddenly a stout Asian man wearing dark red robes steps into your view.

You look up at the body's face and find Wong's furrowed brow staring down at you from the top of the stairs.

There's something off about his gaze however and you see the spark of recognition in his eyes.

Already embarrassed, you have no desire to be seen at the moment and you have the terrible idea that Wong might take you up to meet with Thor and at this particular moment when you’re just beginning the mourning of the husband and daughter you’ve lost, it's tantamount to torture to see him.

You turn quickly and move to head back towards the elevators so that you can get the hell off of this island.

You only get a few feet, thanks to your stupid leg and ribs, when orange sparks startle you into stopping. The orange sparks grow out and wide until they’re a clearly defined circle.

Through this circle you can see a large room with a large staircase and a large glass wall with rooms beyond. The room is mostly made of dark woods and the occasional brass embellishments, but you can also see comfortable red chairs, tables, and decorations like vases and statues.

None of the Asgardians seem to be paying the portal any mind. A few of the tourists look over with curiosity but go back to their celebrating after staring for a bit.

“Vex? You should not be here.” The accented voice comes from behind you.

You turn to look at Wong as he moves towards you, his eyes kinder bit still narrowed in confusion.

You quickly reach up to wipe at your tears as he closes the distance between you and stops with his hands on his hips.

“What did you just call me? How do you know that name?” You demand, hating the way hearing your old pseudonym fills you with what you’d just abandoned, hope.

“I am a Master of the Mystic Arts. I would not forget you easily. I’m sorry to say that others were not so lucky.” He’s talking about Thor.

Your eyes water again as you struggle with your aching heart.

“Why did you come here?” He opens his arms as he shrugs, struggling to understand your motives.

“I-I didn’t know that he was engaged.” You admit and feel your sorrow double as you finally say it aloud.

Wong sighs. “Come on, this is not a place for you anymore.”

His words cut you and you sob as you look over his shoulder at the palace doors. Betrayal courses through your body even though you know that Thor isn’t deliberately abandoning you. He just doesn’t remember ever loving you as much as he did.

“Come.” Wong places his hand on your shoulder and helps turn you back towards the portal.

As you limp through it and the portal begins to close, you watch as the palace doors open and with curiosity twisting his expression, Thor moves back out, watching as you and Wong disappear.

@until-theend-oftheline @jessieray98 @dsakita @coldfacedwarf @just-trying-to-survive-marvel @myfandomlife-blog @wishingforahome @theonelittleone @aireka-frnc @oursameoldlove @wintersoldierswhore @keithseabrook27 @jewelofwinter @markusstraya @sincerelytlh @rumoured-whispers @thehatredofshipprick @the-surviving-revolutionist @fairislesheets @mannls @moonlessnight14 @pandazlazykid @donner5822

[thomsonsharon347]

Jackets and Coats: Are They the Same?

VISIT:

Are jackets and coats the same? Or, are there differences?

[jacketssupplier]

Buy a winter jacket based on these 5 vital factors

Need some help in grabbing the best winter jacket? Read the blog!

[callioope]

Tagged by: @mythologicalmango, thank you! :) 

Nickname: My name is Elizabeth, I’ve gotten them all over the years. My family calls me Beth. In middle school, I switched it to Elizabeth or Lizabeth. In HS a friend pretty much permanently switched it to Liz. I did have one friend who called me Lizzie, but my parents really hated that so that did not catch on. There was a period in 6th grade where the girl who sat next to me in English called me a different nickname every day. 

Last movie I saw: Captain Marvel, saw it on the day Endgame came out. I enjoyed it a lot! Tumblr had spoiled some of the best parts for me though.

Favorite musicians: Sara Bareilles, Florence + The Machine, Regina Spektor, The Beatles

Song stuck in my head: this is very strange for me, but there’s not currently one song stuck in my head. usually songs are very sticky and get stuck in my head forever. i guess i’m between songs at the moment. 

Do I get asks: Not often. But then I’m clearly horrible at responding in a timely manner, so.

Other blogs: I have accounts on Pillowfort and Dreamwidth, same username. Some days I think about starting a travel blog. Some days I think about starting a blog from the POV of my Dungeons & Dragons cleric (who in-character keeps extensive notes about her travels and the people she meets), but I’m not sure that’d be interesting to anyone but me. 

Amount of sleep: I used to sleep midnight to 6, but both an adjustment in my work hours and a desire to be healthier have resulted in attempts to make that 11 to 7. If I am very good about self care, I will settle in bed at 10 and put a show on (Critical Role) to fall asleep to.

Lucky number: I don’t have a lucky number, but I’ve always loved the number 24. Because it was the number associated with one of my favorite toys when I was a kid, a Puppy in my Pocket named Sugar. She was a light pink poodle and she was beautiful. Puppies in my Pocket was a series of little puppy figurines, they had numbers and stat cards and they were adorable. (There were also kitties.) the 90s were great.

What I’m wearing: Winnie the Pooh pajamas and a light blue jacket for a Sheltie Rescue organization

Dream job: stay at home novelist. But my job right now is pretty good. I coordinate the editorial and printing schedules for women’s health publications, work with vendors to get them printed, etc. 

Dream trip: non-stop travel around the world. i want to go everywhere! I’d love to go back to Botswana and spend more time at Pangolin Photo Safari. if you’re planning on going on safari go there. they’re great! they give you fancy cameras, teach you how to use them, teach you what settings to use at this angle and so forth, they make sure to pull up to get the best angle etc. Great place. 

But anyways, places I’d love to go back to: Turkey (there’s SO MUCH to see there, we were there for like 10 days and we didn’t get to see everything on my list. Cappadocia, I’m looking at you); Germany; South Africa

Places I’d love to visit for the first time: New Zealand & Australia, Morocco, any place I could see the Northern Lights, Antarctica, prob a bunch of places in Africa

Favorite food: Chocolate chip cookies

Play any instruments: Yes, but not well. I took piano lessons when I was very young, like pre-school to second grade, but I quit in second grade because I was worried about my growing workload... at least that’s what I remember saying. My parents think I didn’t like the advanced teacher bc she was too hard on me. In HS my friend, who is very extremely talented at playing piano, started teaching me again, so I can play a few songs on the piano. I took up the violin in 4th grade, was pretty good until I stopped practicing in HS. Anyways played until senior year of HS. My orchestra was BALLER. Our conductor's name could be shortened to Mr. La so absolutely we called him that. He chose great pieces for us to play, including a medley from the Pirates of the Caribbean, Night on Bald Mountain (as he called it, “the Boom-Crash!”), and my absolute all-time favorite musical composition, Sibelius’ Symphony No. 2 Movement 4. Beautiful. A few years ago I also started teaching myself to play ukulele. 

Favorite song: I don’t know if Sibelius’ Symphony No. 2 Movement 4 counts as a song, but there’s that. Also “All This and Heaven Too” by Florence + the Machine, and “Orpheus” by Sara Bareilles. Once upon a time, “Drops of Jupiter” was a fave, so it does hold nostalgia points for me. 

Random fact: I don’t know how to swim, I can barely tread water

Describe yourself as aesthetic things: Sweaters. Fall colors. Apple cider. Messy notes scribbled on post-its. Color-coded spreadsheets. Bookshelves overflowing with both books and collectibles. Maps.

Tagging: You. Yes, you, reading this post. If you want to do it, you’re tagged. Seriously. If you love doing tag memes do it, say I tagged you, and have fun.

[jackssresearch]

Europe Motorcycle Gear Market Growth Will Witness Substantial CAGR in the Upcoming years by 2029

Europe Motorcycle Gear Market Highlights:

The European motorcycle gear market was valued at around USD 3,297.64 million in 2019 and is likely to reach USD 4,451.61 million by 2029, with a CAGR of 4.3%.

Europe Motorcycle Gear Market Growth Report provides in-depth information on the Market trends, size, share, growth factors, innovations, competitive landscape, business challenges, and more. The historical data in this report confirms the growing demand on a Global, national and regional scale.

The study of the Global industry covers everything from comprehensive research to Market forecasts, prospects, risks, and vendor knowledge. Research on Europe Motorcycle Gear helps to understand the industry prospects and growth opportunities. The report utilizes advanced tools such as SWOT analysis and Porter’s Five Forces analysis to accurately estimate Market and revenue growth. The report also provides an extensive analysis of the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic and how it has contributed to the progress of the Market.

Click the link to get a sample copy of the report: https://straitsresearch.com/report/europe-motorcycle-gear-market/request-sample

Major Market Players:

Dainese S.p.A, Alpinestarts S.p.A, KTM AG, KW RaceWear Sp. z o.o. Sp.k., UFO PLAST S.r.l., Schuberth GmbH, Carberg S.p.A, Bell Racing Europe SA, Spidi Sport S.r.l., REV’IT! Sport International B.V., Scorpion Sports Europe, and Belstaff, among others.

Market segmentation by Type and Application:

By Type Riding Gear Jerseys Jackets Pants and shorts Protective Gear Guards Chest/Roost Protection Helmets Boots Armored Jackets Armored Shorts By User Group Men Women Kids

Regional Analysis:

Global Europe Motorcycle Gear Market Trends in key regions:

North America (US, Canada, Mexico)

Europe (Germany, UK, France, Italy, Spain, Russia, etc.)

Asia Pacific (China, Japan, South Korea, Australia, India, Southeast Asia, etc.)

The Middle East and Africa (Saudi Arabia, UAE, Egypt, Nigeria, South Africa, etc.)

South America (Brazil, Argentina, Colombia, Chile, etc.)

Each of these regions are analyzed based on Market research results across major countries in these regions for a macro-level understanding of the Market.

Impact on Industry Due to COVID-19

Since the outbreak of the COVID-19 virus in December 2019, the disease has spread to almost every country around the world as the World Health Organization (WHO) declared a public health emergency. The Global impact of Coronavirus Disease 2019 (COVID-19) is already starting to be felt and will have a major impact on the Europe Motorcycle Gear Market in 2020. The outbreak of COVID-19 has affected several aspects such as flight cancellations, travel bans, quarantines, restaurant closures, restrictions on all indoor/outdoor events, more than 40 countries declared a state of emergency, massive slowdowns in supply chains, stock Market volatility, Declining business confidence, growing fears of the population, and uncertainty about the future.

Market Factors Described in the Report:

Market Overview: Includes other chapters briefly describing the scope of the Europe Motorcycle Gear Market research, Market analysis by major players, Market analysis by segments, applications, types, and the study.

Summary: The Europe Motorcycle Gear Market share report evaluates key Market functions such as revenue, price, capacity, utilization, gross production, production, consumption, import and export, supply and demand, cost, Market share, CAGR, and gross margin. Additionally, the report offers a comprehensive study of key Market dynamics and latest trends, as well as relevant Market segments and sub-segments.

Regional Survey: All regions and countries analyzed in the Europe Motorcycle Gear Market report have been surveyed based on Market size by application, Market size by product, key players and Market forecasts.

Market Forecast: Here, the report offers a complete forecast of the Global Europe Motorcycle Gear Market size by product, application, and region. It also provides Global sales and revenue forecasts for all years of the forecast period.

The survey includes historical and forecast data that makes the report easy to access documentation, including industry executives, marketing, sales and product managers, consultants, analysts, and clearly presented tables for stakeholders looking to the core. Industry data. It will be a valuable resource and graph.

You can Buy This Report Here: https://straitsresearch.com/buy-now/europe-motorcycle-gear-market/global/

The following questions answered in the Europe Motorcycle Gear Market report:

How has the COVID-19 pandemic impacted the Global Europe Motorcycle Gear Market Players?

What is the essential strategy available for the growth & development of the Global Europe Motorcycle Gear Market?

What are the key segments explained in the Global Europe Motorcycle Gear Market report?

What are the strategically phases determined for marking an entry of the players in the Global Europe Motorcycle Gear Market?

What are the major governing frameworks and technology trends involved in the Europe Motorcycle Gear Market?

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