#air tickets to san francisco

[bookandfly]

City to City: Finding the Perfect Flights Between Las Vegas and San Francisco

Planning a trip between major cities like Las Vegas and San Francisco? Whether you want a quick weekend getaway or an extended stay, finding the right flight is key to ensuring a smooth and affordable trip. In this guide, we’ll help you on the best ways to fly to Las Vegas and San Francisco, including tips for finding cheap and last-minute deals

Find the best flights to Las Vegas

Las Vegas is a city of endless entertainment, from world-famous casinos to spectacular shows and luxury resorts. If you’re planning a trip to this amazing destination, there are multiple options to consider when booking flights to Las Vegas.

For advantage travelers, it’s always a good idea to compare flights to Las Vegas among different airlines and booking sites. This will help you find the cheapest flights to Las Vegas, and the best flight times to fit your schedule. If you’re booking last minute, don’t worry—there are plenty of last-minute flights to Las Vegas that can still offer great deals.

If you’re flying for business or just want to travel in style, check out business class tickets to Las Vegas. Although they come at a premium price, the business class offers comfort and extra features, making the journey more fun. Always compare airlines and booking sites before getting your flight tickets to Las Vegas to ensure you get the best price.

When it comes to purchasing your tickets, there are many options available. Whether you're searching for flight tickets to Las Vegas, air tickets to Las Vegas, or business class tickets, booking in advance can often save you money. If you're looking for a deal, keep an eye out for promotions and sales, especially during non-peak travel times.

Booking Flights to San Francisco

With its iconic Golden Gate Bridge, winding streets and vibrant culture, San Francisco is a must-visit destination for travelers. Whether you’re flying for business or leisure, it’s important to find the right flights to San Francisco. As with Las Vegas, it’s important to compare flights to San Francisco to find the best airfare and the most convenient travel time.

For those traveling in style or on business, business class tickets for flights to San Francisco offer a more luxurious way to travel. Although these tickets are expensive, the comfort, service and amenities can make a big difference, especially on long flights.

If you’re flexible with your travel dates, it’s easier to get cheap flights to San Francisco by booking during off-peak times or searching for special deals. For last-minute trips, don’t panic—there are still last-minute flights to San Francisco that can help you reach your destination without breaking the bank.

When you’re ready to book flights to San Francisco, it’s important to compare not just prices but also services, flight times, and additional fees, such as baggage or seat selection. This will help you in getting the best value when purchasing flight tickets to San Francisco or air tickets to San Francisco.

Tips for Booking Flights Between Las Vegas and San Francisco

When traveling between Las Vegas and San Francisco, flexibility is key. By comparing flights and being open to different travel dates and times, you can often find great flight deals. Here are a few more tips to help you find the right flight:

Book in Advance: If possible, try to book your tickets early to avail the best prices. Both flights to Las Vegas and flights to San Francisco tend to be cheaper when booked several weeks or months in advance.

Look for Last-Minute Deals: If your travel plans are flexible, keep checking for last-minute flights to Las Vegas or San Francisco. Airlines often drop prices to fill seats close to departure dates.

Compare Different Airlines: Whether you’re booking business class tickets or cheap flights, always compare multiple airlines to ensure you're getting the best value for your money.

Sign Up for Alerts: Many travel websites offer fare alerts, notifying you when prices drop for flights to your desired destination. This is particularly useful for finding deals on cheap flights to Las Vegas or San Francisco.

Consider connecting flights: See if connecting flights offer a cheaper option for your trip between Las Vegas and San Francisco as Direct flights are usually the most convenient but can sometimes be costly.

Conclusion

Whether you're heading to the bright lights of Las Vegas or the scenic beauty of San Francisco, finding the right flights between these two cities is essential for a successful trip. From business class tickets to last-minute deals, taking the time to compare flights to Las Vegas and San Francisco can help you get the best fares and ensure a comfortable journey. So start planning your trip today, and enjoy everything these two vibrant cities have to offer!

[travelolog]

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[wagnistrip123]

WagniTrip: Your Gateway to Affordable Air Tickets and Premium Travel Experiences in California

Discover the best deals on air tickets to San Diego and San Francisco with WagnisTrip! Whether you're planning a leisurely getaway or a business trip, our platform offers Delta Airlines ticket reservations, business class flights to California, and cheap air tickets to San Francisco. Experience the luxury of business class travel at unbeatable prices and explore the stunning beauty of California with WagnisTrip today.

[bookviaus]

Flights From San Francisco To Bangalore

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[milawritesstuff]

I’m sure we all saw those pics of Pedri & the boys are the NBA game for warriors & lakers. He looked so cute & huggable & so boyfriend material ugh anyways can you do a pedri x gf reader where she joins him for the game & their like not public but not private either but they officially are exposed on the kiss cam. If you can make her like a Latina American (just basing her off myself, if not that’s totally fine) & obvi just super cute & bf material pedri 🥰

A/N: Ugh that video of him at the match last night he’s so damn soft. I feel like I can touch that video and ughhhh I’m going crazy for this man lol.

Anyways hope you guys like this. Also, I wanted to make it part of this other one that I wrote … so it’s going to be the same Y/N from THIS story.

I hope you guys like it, I just wrote is super quick.

•••

He stared into the phone screen. Even though you were almost 6,000 miles away whenever he looked at the screen when you were on video call you couldn’t help but blush. His brown eyes shined as he looked into the screen with a sense of hope. He stayed quiet for a few seconds.

-I have to tell you something but don’t get mad.-

You felt your heart fall to the pit of your stomach when he said those words. The last few months hadn’t been easy. After spending a few months together and you deciding to return to the states you had only seen each other less than a handful of times. These daily video calls were the only thing that kept you going. You tried not to pay attention to all of the rumors surrounding him because you knew you were the one he woke up at the crack of dawn to talk to or would stay up late for due to the time difference. But you still knew a long distance relationship was difficult.

-What?- You answer.

-Xavi is giving us a few days off after the Osasuna match and well …-

-Pedri you’re making me nervous, just spit it out.-

He flung his arms in the air.

-Joder, Eric, Fer, and I were thinking of going to the NBA playoffs but I don’t want you to get mad because I should actually be going to visit you instead and…- You cut him off.

-Babe, it’s okay. I know it’s something you’ve always wanted to do so please go. Besides in a few months I’ll be in Barcelona.-

-Are you sure?- He asks. -It’s going to be a quick trip, maybe two days so we can get back on time.-

You shake your head and giggle. -Vamos amor, it’s okay. I’m not mad. I promise.-

The two of you stayed on the phone for a few more minutes before it was time to say goodbye. As soon as you ended the call with Pedri you messaged his brother.

Y/N: Fer, please ask Eric if he can get a ticket to the game for me without Pedri knowing, I want to surprise him.

Fer: On it

Y/N: And ask if you can stay in his room 😉

Fer: 🫡🫡

You knew Pedri would be flying out Wednesday night after the team’s practice and would be arriving late Wednesday in San Francisco. You booked a flight out of Los Angeles early Thursday morning.

You knocked twice on the hotel room door.

-Did you order room service?- You heard Pedri ask his brother in the room.

Fernando laughed. -No, but open it, it’s a surprise.-

Your heart began to beat faster as you heard Pedri’s steps get closer to the door. You felt like throwing up when you saw the handle turn. His face lit up as soon as he saw you and dashed over to take you in his arms. He lifted you in a hug.

-I know you would have preferred Steph Curry but … surprise!- You said as he placed a soft kiss on your lips. He let out a laugh. -Tonta, you’re better than Steph Curry any day.-

You spent the day with Pedri, going out to eat with Eric and Ferran and doing a bit of sightseeing. You had been to San Francisco a million times but seeing it through Pedri’s eyes was magical. It reminded you of how your parents would act when you went to new places. Being immigrants from Latin America, to them being able to take you on trips to see new places was living the American dream. And you couldn’t believe in just a few months you were giving up the American dream for this beautiful Spanish boy.

The night was going to end with the main reason the boys had traveled for, the NBA playoffs. Pedri smiled at you as your group walked to the entrance of the Chase Center. You thought about how nice the day had been because nobody had recognized him. You were able to walk around the city and even on the Golden Gate Bridge holding hands without anyone taking pictures or asking him for anything. A few pictures of the two of you had came out when you were in Barcelona but for almost a year now you had managed to keep your relationship quiet. You preferred it that way, knowing and mentally preparing yourself for what would ensue once the fans found out you had moved in with him in a few months.

As you walked into the Chase Center you let go of Pedri’s hand. Something telling you that there would be cameras and more people who could recognize him and you wanted him to avoid more rumors. Pedri looked back at you and furrowed his brows. You smiled back at him hoping he wouldn’t ask why you had let go of his hand. Luckily Eric dragged him and took the attention away from you. You and Fer stayed behind as Fer took video of everything going on.

Eventually you found your seats. Eric went first followed by Pedri and you decided to let Fernando go after him so that you would be at the end. Once Pedri sat down and he realized his brother was next to him instead of you he turned to look over at you. -Babe!- He called for your attention.

-Que pasa, Pedri?-

He reached his hand out over Fer and grabbed yours. -You belong next to me. Why are you sitting all the way over there?-

You shrugged your shoulders. -There’s cameras everywhere and you know …-

Pedri shook his head. -Come here. Fer move over.-

You did as he asked and sat down next to him. Your hand in his. He leaned over to look at you. -Is that why you let go of my hand when we walked in?-

-Yeah.-

-Amor, they’re going to find out sooner or later and honestly I don’t care anymore. You sit next to me so everyone can see I have the most beautiful girl here.-

You smiled and gave him a quick kiss. He turned around to talk to Eric while his hand continued to hold yours. You stared stupidly at him wondering how in the world you had gotten so lucky to find him and for him to love you the way he did.

A few people came over to take pictures of Pedri and Eric and even one person did a short interview. You managed to stay out of the limelight until the kiss cam came on. You and Pedri stared at the Jumbotron as people laughed.

-Sometimes they chose siblings and it’s super awkward.- You whisper into Pedri’s ear who continues to laugh as he claps and looks at the screen.

-See, they would have done that with Fer and I if you hadn’t moved your seats.- He says causing you to laugh. As the two of you are laughing and staring at each other you feel Fer nudge you.

-Vamos, vamos pareja look!-

You look up and see the screen focused on you and Pedri. Your cheeks glowing red from embarrassment. Pedri turns over to look at you and winks. -I said they would find out sooner or later, I guess it’s going to be sooner.- You smile as he leans in and places a kiss on your lips. His soft hand cupping your chin as his soft wet lips take yours in.

The kiss ends and Pedri pulls away as the two of you give the camera a thumbs up.

TAG LIST:

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[keanuquotes]

BY MAT WEIR

In a “most excellent” display of rock, Dogstar–featuring Hollywood outsider favorite, Keanu Reeves on bass–played to a sold out Catalyst main room last night. The air was more electrified than the batteries of the Matrix as everyone anxiously waited to get a glimpse of the star. Despite the show starting at 8pm, Catalyst staff had been at the club since 10am setting up the stage and keeping fans away from the tour buses all day.

music in the park san jose

Yet, despite the early call time, stage managers, runners and security were in just as good of spirits as the fans later in the evening. That’s just the magic of Keanu.

While the official time the doors opened was 7pm, VIP lanyard ticket holders were allowed in twenty minutes before. A group of fifty or so individuals rushed to the front of the stage to stake their place. Every once in a while a friend from any given group would go to the bar and place an order of drinks to bring back while the crowd broke into cheers whenever the door to the green room opened.

By the time the opening band, Sons of Silver, hit the stage the Catalyst bars were in full gear cranking out drinks to thirsty crowds. The Los Angeles five piece is touring off their latest single, “Running Out of Words” ahead of the release of their debut full-length, Runaway Emotions. Featuring former members of Pearl Jam, Candlebox and Skillet, Sons of Silver brings a certified classic rock sound with a twist from keyboardist Brina Kabler. Their first time in Santa Cruz and at The Catalyst, Sons of Silver singer Peter Argyropoulos acknowledged the venue’s historic past.

“It’s good to be in a proper rock ‘n roll club,” he told the audience, noting the current Summer Vacation Tour with Dogstar has taken the bands to multiple casino resort shows.

After a 20 minute or so break between bands, the crowd erupted as the three piece Dogstar took the stage. They opened the set “Blonde,” an Echo & the Bunnymen-esque song that also opens Dogstar’s new album, Somewhere Between the Power Lines and the Palm Trees, which came out in October 2023. Throughout the set they played a number of new tracks like the break-up ballads, “How The Story Ends” and “Glimmer” along with energetic anthem, “Breach.”

After a quick five minute break, Dogstar returned for a four song encore that included lively cover versions of The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” and The Ramones’ “I Wanna Be Sedated,” maybe or maybe not in honor of the day being the 20th anniversary of the death of Johnny Ramone.

As they closed out the set singer Bret Domrose–a Santa Clara native who has also acted in movies like The Replacements with bassist Reeves and previously played bass in San Francisco new wave punk act, The Nuns–told The Catalyst he was once in a local band as “a kid” that tried to play the venue but couldn’t get a gig.

“So thanks for finally letting me in,” he joked before the band walked off stage.

Living up to his reputation as a “regular person” and grateful star, Reeves re-emerged once most of the venue cleared out to greet fans and hangout with old friends. Before heading back onto the bus he signed autographs and took a couple of photos with some lucky fans while rocking a comfy pair of UGG boots. Like his character in The Devil’s Advocate said, it’s “free will after all.”

[mashmaiden]

♦️ and ☯️ for Kensi, Deeks, or Densi for the head canons list. 🙂

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

A few months after Rosa came to live with Kensi and Deeks, she came home from a shopping trip with a 1000 piece puzzle of Times Square at night. When she mentioned it was somewhere she always wanted to go, they not only added it to their travel bucket list, but they immediately set up a folding table by the couch and began completing the puzzle together. At least a few nights a week, they rotate picking a movie or a show to watch, and work on the puzzle as they enjoy each other's favorite entertainment. Deeks chooses "classic" movies like The Wild One and Goonies (well at least what he considered classics), and Kensi chooses her favorites like Titanic, and the John Hughes library of films. Rosa usually suggests newer movies and shows - her most recent favorite show was Shrinking - and everyone's favorite lists get expanded.

After Times Square was completed, other beautiful landscape puzzles stacked up - Yellowstone, San Francisco, London, even the Santa Monica Pier. There were other variety of puzzles thrown in, like movie scenes, or abstract art. But mostly, beautiful sights around the world. The only unspoken rule - puzzles of places MUST be photographs. They wished to bask in the real look, not an artist's rendering (no offense to artists).

For Rosa's 18th birthday, Deeks and Kensi presented her a box containing their biggest challenge yet, a 4000 piece puzzle of a new Time Square nightscape. Inside the box, tickets for the three to spend a week in New York over Christmas break.

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon

Deeks doesn't hate camping as much as he lets on. He doesn't even need to "glamp" to consider the idea. He'd prefer not to be completely unprotected out in the middle of the desert, that is too reminiscent of difficult work cases. But give him a designated campground, a decent tent with an air mattress inside, and at least an outhouse available for use, and he's more than happy to spend a few days in the woods enjoying nature and roasting marshmallows over the fire.

A few months after they got engaged, Kensi and Deeks took a roadtrip over a long weekend to see the Grand Canyon in the fall. Deeks surprised Kensi by pulling into a KOA about an hour from the South Rim. He fell even more in love with her seeing the joy on her face as he pulled the tent and supplies from where he hid them in his truck bed. Together they assembled the tent, roasted hot dogs and marshmallows, and then snuggled in on the bouncy airbed in their tent.

The next few days were spent hiking the beautiful canyon, horseback riding around the camp, exploring the nearby towns of Flagstaff and Williams, and spending the evenings in the hot tub (yeah, he chose a place that had some amenities!). Sure, they had to make an emergency run to Walmart to pick up a few more supplies (Deeks may have underestimated Kensi's love of s'mores), but despite Deeks's initial reservations, this was an experience he'd be willing to repeat again and again - and they did!

[winterpinetrees]

Weighing the risks (The Gap Years part 15)

June 24th 2019

Las Vegas, NV

The humans have a much needed conversation and discuss a couple of dangerous plans. These keep getting longer and longer. This is, as always, pure unedited brainrot.

………………

Las Vegas is a monument to the human world. It is a city of electric lights, shaking air conditioners, and carefully manufactured myth. It has towering fountains, but 4 inches of rainfall each year. Billions of dollars are gambled and lost on casino floors and show tickets and the dozens of planes that land every day. Strictly speaking, Las Vegas does not even exist. It’s a patch of dirt called Paradise that was never incorporated into a real town because towns have higher taxes and more to lose. It is a place of mad complexity and beautiful waste, and that is why it is a monument to everything that may soon be lost forever.

Zerada and Marin, old heirs to the elven throne, are off somewhere else. Maybe they’re robbing another casino or maybe they’re speaking in elvish about things that they refuse to share. There’s no way of knowing, so the three human friends sit in their hotel room. It has been nearly two weeks since they set off on their quest. In that time, they have been shot at, cursed and charmed. They’ve learned impossible truths about the universe and nearly died multiple times. This little Vegas stopover is a necessary rest, but it’s also terrifying. Each passing day the world gets closer to ending. They can’t agree if that’s a good thing.

The evening where he learned about the laboratory was not the last time that Brain split off from the group. This morning he met back up with his old friends for breakfast with his blond hair a mess and no concrete answers about where he’d been. (It’s not difficult to guess. Zerada arrived a few minutes later). He dragged them onto this quest and by god if he isn’t going to try and enjoy it. They’ll probably be dead soon anyway, but he has to try. Brian has been brainwashed once to his knowledge. He knows that there’s no visible signs if an enemy does it well. Despite his family history, Brian isn’t good at being at someone else’s mercy.

Sierra types slowly on her battered computer. Her calloused hands twitch from magic and there are moments where her vision goes that horrible blood red. She swears that the curse is trying to possess her, but the one time Zerada tried to fix it left both of them with a killer headache. She says that removing the spell through brute force might have serious consequences, but the elf did what she could. Sierra is a little annoyed to be so out of the loop. She’s always been the one who tinkers with things, but she isn’t much help with magic. Sierra always imagined that she’d be more than just the damsel in distress on a sci-fi adventure. She pours over old forums to find what she already knows. Ten years ago a team of elves destroyed a state of the art physics lab in the desert. She wants to ask Marin, but the prince has been silent. The ruins lie two hours to the northwest.

Clay’s sunburns have healed, but he wears the rifle over one shoulder whenever he can. Every stranger is a possible threat. They are hopelessly outgunned. Clay knows he isn’t a fighter though. Brian is the one who can wrestle, lock arms with a problem and keep fighting until he’s won or bleeding. Clay is a runner and a liar. Sure, he’ll face his father or stare down Marin when he’s being absurd, what can he do against actual soldiers? Someday they’ll be backed into a corner and someone will demand his surrender. Clay wonders what he will do if he lays down his arms and Brian goes down fighting. They did still kill that nobleman, back home in San Francisco. He might not be able to talk his way out of this.

This was supposed to be a fun road trip.

The three gather around the computer at a table covered with hand drawn maps. There’s a laboratory somewhere close, but they know so little. Like, who was the blond elf who shot Sierra as they fled from Vya? They’d yelled something at Marin before fleeing but he hasn’t been clear what. The humans have been piecing a story together from fragments. The archer didn’t kill Sierra when they had the chance, so the elves must want all of them alive, not just Marin. Their wrist computer is a sign of nobility, but the archer isn’t from one of the big enemy houses. Too many elves here are unaffiliated. Brian explained that two nights ago, while still wearing his too-tight suit.

“On earth, coups become cyclical when the common people stop believing that changes in government mean anything”. He’d explained with the advertisements of the city flashing behind him. “That matches what we know about elves. The nobles do their own thing without really affecting the people”.

Clay nodded grimly. He’s seen what happens when human governments leave their people behind. “But now the commoners care. That’s new”.

That fact has been weighing on them for days. They’re all smart enough to know that taking back the throne will be harder than Marin thinks. Clay takes a deep breath and looks up to the ceiling (they’ve meticulously blocked every security camera in the suite and turned off their phones).

“The elves seem decent. We could go talk to the lab techs. We could tell them what’s happening”.

Brian looks up from the papers in shock. “And get them killed? Jesus, Dirtboy! We’ve been living with Marin for two weeks! They’ll behead him! Or worse!”

Sierra spins the wire around her wrists. “How do you get worse than that? Elves don’t seem like the forgiving type either. We’re like dogs to them”.

“We got lucky in Vya. We got lucky when I was charmed and we got-“ Clay keeps talking. He’s keeping his voice very level.

Brian is shouting “And we have Zerada now!”

“The fact that you hooked up with an alien isn’t going to fix everything! This is our world, Sierra’s right, we have to remember the stakes here”.

Brian looks wildly between the two of them. He’s alone and outnumbered. “Remember the stakes? They’re going to enslave the human race, Clay. What do you think their mercy looks like?”

Born in the same six months, the three have been friends for longer than they can remember. They have run across the rooftops and assembled drones and sat in the bleachers of baseball games for eachother. They have cried over relationships, and standardized tests, and the way that the world always, always, seems to be about to end without anyone caring. Their fathers graduated Princeton together as a triumvirate to change the world. The men have no idea that their children hold more power than they ever could. It’s a random Monday night in Las Vegas. They can doom the entire human race by dawn.

Clay grits his teeth. “You dramatic, glory-chasing, idiot. What would a-“

“Boys!” Sierra stands. “We’re not backing out tonight. We’re going to find the lab,” Brian, the handsome action hero, smiles. “And we’re going to see if they’re actually making a plague,” Clay nods as well. “And then we’re going to have another conversation and decide how to run this”.

He slumps over the table and papers rustle. “Brian. Listen to me. We don’t tell them what we discussed tonight”.

He laughs, but his face is grim. “Of course. I’m not an idiot! I’m going to Princeton, remember?”

The three all nervously. Right. They just graduated high school. There’s a whole world out there that used to mean everything. Were they really sitting in math class just last month?

“If we win, we’ll be legends. We can’t just go back to school,” Sierra says.

“That’s the hero’s journey,” Brian replies. “You save the world, but not for you”.

Clay rolls his eyes behind his glasses. “I’d be alright with a different world…”

“No! No you wouldn’t be!”

They’re going to be fighting over this for a while.

The humans don’t see Marin and Zerada until the next day. In spite of everything, the humans know each other well, and they let nothing slip. Reconnaissance has been going well, research has been going well. Nothing suspicious at all! Sierra lays out the papers to propose a plan. The elves will steal them something that can go offroad, and they’ll drive out into the desert to the ruins of Project Excalibur. Worst case scenario, it’s just a dead end, but she knows that a lab with dozens and dozens of workers wouldn’t be operational if work only started with the coup on the 10th. It must have existed, secretly, for months, and the technicians only got the ok to visit Vegas after their faction had control. What better place for radiation-resistant aliens to hide a lab than in nuclear ruins?

Marin thinks for a moment. Creating a plague in the wreckage of the place where humans tried to understand magic seems like something the Mercurali would do. The youngest prince has a name so full of ancient meaning that he doubts they’d be able to turn down that sort of symbolism. So that’s the plan. Marin and Zerada will steal a jeep and meet them at a predetermined parking lot north of the city. Then they’ll do a bit of investigating.

There’s only one catch. Sierra is still cursed. If she turns on them, then everyone is dead.

“You could stay behind?” Marin suggests. She’s not going to do that.

Sierra scowls, “I can handle it”. The spell is spreading, which at least to her implies that it isn’t as dangerous as it could be. The only symptoms have been tremors and the occasional magical flare in her vision. She’s fine.

Zerada doesn’t scowl. She’s far too elegant and composed for that, but her reaction is still skeptical. “Then we’re not giving you a gun”.

“I don’t need one”.

So the elves leave and the humans pack their bags. They have Clay’s concussion rifle, emerald green and capable of hitting like a cannonball. He’s also carrying a human sidearm now, a pistol that he bought a few towns over. Brian is armed with a magical pistol and a baseball bat. Both boys also carry foam earplugs because Sierra has kept tinkering with her siren. It won’t be much help against soldiers anymore, but it could stop lab techs if they get desperate. Sierra has her magic detector, but she’s bought a normal Geiger counter as well. The elves have promised to protect them from radiation using their magic, but she’s skeptical. The Excalibur exclusion zone isn’t as bad as Chernobyl, but it’s still a bit scary to walk into. They’re probably going to die in the next few months, but they certainly don’t want to die of radiation poisoning if they win. As a result, they’ve followed Sierra’s orders and bought new clothes that cover as much skin as possible. They’ll throw it all away afterwards. (Money was never an issue) Sierra and Clay even drove out to a hardware store and bought masks, an act that the elves couldn’t help but roll their eyes at.

They also have snacks. Lots of snacks.

………………………

A world and five hundred miles away, Amedi Kebero meditates in their chambers. The sound of the ocean is still a bit distracting, but they’re getting used to it. (They are a bit woried about rust on their vambrace from the humidity though) The spell they cast on the human girl was a tracker’s mark from the mountains of home. With focus, they can see through their quarry’s eyes, and the spell will spread until it paralyzes the victim completely. Unfortunately, the Adust heir got in the way, and everything is working worse than Amedi would like. They’ve been spending most of their free time trying to get a clear connection, but have only seen flashes.

Luckily, they have something to report when Esther knocks on their door. It’s past midday and the High Council needs to reconvene in the Problem Room. The red-haired human looks at them hopefully. Amedi’s desires are Esther’s desires too. That’s the way a seneschal works, after all. The girl must be happy to hear that Amedi has had some success. They tell the council that the heirs are still in Vegas, and that they are all going to infiltrate the ruins of Project Excalibur within a few days. It causes a stir, mostly from Gullin who’s overseeing the entire operation, but not as much as they expected.

The Apex files a report. Security will be increased on base, but she’s not making offense a priority. Sondaicas and Adusts are as stealthy as she is strong, so the goal is to protect the base, not catch the heirs. So Amedi will stay with the council this time. Amedi is disappointed to not have another chance to fight, but they try not to show it. Ishtar and Ryn keep reminding them that they don’t need to prove themself anymore. They are on the high council, and there is nothing left to conquer. Well, except for the human world, that is.

But Amedi doesn’t know their seneschal as well as they think. Alone again, Esther slides a panel out of the wall of her small room. She didn’t even need to have it built. The network of crawlspaces and catwalks already covers the human quarters within the palace. She kneels behind a filing cabinet and crawls inside. The space within contains a phone and a computer, both of them slow and unreliable because of the magic nearby. Nonetheless, Esther types a memorized phone number into the keypad. If her research is right, and it is always right, then Clay Shepard’s satellite phone is attached to the other side. She can warn them. She can stop them from walking into a trap. Esther has done this little ritual before, and as always, something stops her. If these kids are going to save the human world (no, her world. She is human, and her mother was taken from the wild), then they need to get just a bit further on their own. It won’t do them any good if she gets caught, after all. Esther puts the phone down, slides the panel back into place, and returns to the paperwork of an empire.

……………

no authors notes other than the fact that I wanted to establish that Clay’s nickname is every possible variant of “Dirt” (and occasionally other synonyms for clay) earlier than this.

[hauntedjpegcollection]

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wc: 3058 au: band au ch: xavier, benji

Xavier tries not to be too excited about the series of events that has lead him to be alone with Benji. Ratspits elusive drummer and the gradual, slow thaw to—he wouldn’t call it friendship yet, right? It feels too tender and a little scary to classify the shedding of hostility; the way an alley cat slowly winds around a leg until you move and it darts away. The in between of finally knowing each other—positively. Sure, friendship.

It doesn’t necessarily feel right to be so buzzed out of his mind, simply sitting beside Benji on a couch in the back of a recording studio. Alone. Alone together. Alone, as in just the two of them.

The back room has walls stuffed with framed record deals, faux graffiti that’s more than a little embarrassing (‘VOTING IS PUNK ROCK’) and signed posters plastered everywhere. A mini fridge is overly stocked with energy drinks and water bottles and iced teas. A television with a gaming console is a dark, pretty mirror of their stretched, warped reflection. The couch they’re on is a sunk in beast, used and comfortable—there’s another loveseat Benji could have chosen instead off to the side.

But when he’d walked in, he’d merely blinked a few times. Then thrown himself down onto the couch, a tangle of messy limbs, face sleepily regarding Xavier. Xavier, not in a security uniform. Xavier, in a terrible JUST HERE FOR THE WIENERS shirt with a hot dog mascot, a baseball hat and too-many-times-washed denim jeans. Clearly not here for anything other than moral support for Lark and—and support for anyone else that might want it…

“Long flight?” Xavier had asked.

“Nah, mate, they invented teleportin’, you not hear about that yet?” Xavier’s resulting giggle had softened any harsh edge to Benji’s words and expression. Had tilted his brows up slightly, quirked his mouth from mean to endeared. Xavier is not sure where to put the new found feeling in his chest, so he holds it outstretched in his hands chanting, don’t be weird, don’t be weird, don’t be weird in his head.

Then they fall into a conversation that’s easy. Natural, almost, especially because there is no one else but them. A conversation without gaps or pauses, that swells up with laughter here and there. They sink closer and closer on the couch, maybe on accident. Maybe not. Xavier places his baseball cap on Benji just because of how frequently he’s touching his hair, swatting it back from his face. Benji offers to patch up the wide blown out knee of Xavier’s jeans, fingers pinching white strings of torn apart denim and accidentally brushing bare, freckled skin.

They’re friendly until they both decide they want the last remaining bag of chips in the bowl on the low rise coffee table (that is artfully styled with more graffiti and well placed scuffed marks).

“Crisps,” Benji says in a flat tone.

“Dude, they’re chips,” Xavier replies, incredulous. “You’re in San Francisco. They’re chips.”

“San Francisco? Thought we were in Los Angeles.”

“You’re joking, right? You look at your plane tickets before you board, right? Benji. Right?”

The drummer kicks into another laugh that’s gentle around the edges; not the harsh puff of air from his nose, the derivative snort that most people get. This is the sort of laugh Benji gives Mouse when she’s deliberately trying to make him smile—the laugh that Matilda gets when she’s showing him pictures on her phone of photoshoot outtakes Lark accidentally sneezed through.

Xavier gets this laugh arguing about…fucking chips. Whatever, he’ll take it.

“I dunno if you noticed,” he says, using a hand to gesture broadly at himself. He wiggles eyebrows, elongating on the couch as he does, with one leg crossed, ankle to thigh. It nearly has them touching. Nearly. “I’m not in security uniform today.”

“Oh,” Benji draws the word out nice and long. He rakes eyes up and down Xavier in a way that makes goosebumps rise up along every inch of skin. His lower belly fills with an undeniable sort of warmth. “Thought the wieners might have been the new style.”

Through a painful, burning blush, Xavier clears his throat and continues, “Anyway, I don’t have to be nice to you. I want the chips—barbecue is my favorite.”

“That right? I’m about to be burning calories drummin’ for the next two hours and you wanna take my only nourishment from me? Not right, yeah?”

“Man, I work on tour—I know that Bunny or Happy will cater food at some point.”

Benji’s settled himself onto the other side of the couch with an undeniable pout. Xavier’s starting to regret giving him the baseball hat—Benji isn’t usually the sort to wear them. If he ever has, it’s not been in Xavier’s presence (not that they’re spending that much time together, of course)—but he wears plenty of beanies. They always seem to make his hair curl prettily around his ears, his jawline. The baseball cap, in contrast, has his hair puff around the edges, go spirally and gorgeous and okay, maybe distracting.

Maybe Benji’s entire appearance is very distracting, all of the time.

There’s still a competitive dog inside Xavier that no beautiful drummer can win against.

“You wanna thumb war for it?”

“What?”

“Thumb war,” Xavier scoots closer, holding out a hand. Benji stares at it.

“Think you have an unfair advantage,” he murmurs, moving their palms together. There’s a small and yet incredibly infinite—like genuinely, mindbogglingly, long—moment where Xavier’s brain all but shuts off. Whatever tiny cogs that make up all of his inner workings grind to an abrupt and utterly painful stop. Benji’s hand fits into his, fingers curling around his own and his callouses, Jesus, Benji has callouses and they’re rough and Xavier is imagining those calloused hands in a hundred different ways even if the brain cogs are on fire now.

“Uh,” Xavier says intelligently. Benji blinks at him. Then slowly smiles. The effect of that smile on Xavier’s rapidly beating heart is devastating.

“’Cause your hands big. Like? A paw, mate. Go easy on me, yeah?”

“Well, hand size has nothing to do with thumbs,” Xavier continues, just as intelligently, because Benji had said that so, so breathily. Their hands maneuver into place and their knees bump as they get closer. Xavier hunches forward just a bit. “And also, I have to win or I’ll die.”

“See where Lark gets all the dramatics from.” Benji taps his chin a few times. “Could always do arm wrestlin’. No size bias there.”

“You’re joking!” Xavier leans even farther forward, his free hand wrapping around Benji’s bicep. The black denim of his jacket doesn’t hide the warmth of him; Xavier feels it immediately, straight to the marrow. He wants to soak in it, wants to rub himself against that warmth and sigh happily, like a dog rolling about a sunny patch of grass. Xavier punctuates with a squeeze of Benji’s arm, the considerable swell of his bicep hard to the touch. It makes his mouth go dry.

Benji raises an eyebrow. Xavier lets go.

“C’mon, best of three.”

The thumb war becomes an all out physical thing, with both of them jerking arms, flailing and laughing and jostling into each other. They’re bumping shoulders at some point, hands outstretched at a terrible angle. They’re both in the lead and then losing, and then arguing snappishly over their hands and laughing even louder. They’re hunching over each other and insulting each other and knocking temples as they move together and ow, ow, ow, you’re hurting me and still laughing. Xavier’s honor depends on winning, but he also—he really likes that they’re touching and that thought makes him slip drastically.

Benji nearly wins.

Until a notification pings loudly in the space between them, from his jacket pocket.

“Was that,” Xavier’s only just slightly out of breath from the hand turned near full body wrestling, a lock of his hair fallen into his face. He stares down at the phone, lit up in Benji’s jacket pocket. There’s just enough of a corner showing that he can see a yellow mask icon.

“Grindr?”

“What?” Benji startles, his eyes popping, lips tensing into a thin, pale line once the words are out of his mouth. Xavier immediately pulls away, shuffling to the other end of the couch, blush burning a path all the way to the tips of his ears. The notification goes off once more and Benji swears under his breath. Xavier’s hand is warm with the memory of Benji’s palm.

“Dude, it’s fine—answer it, what if he’s hot?” Xavier’s laugh feels thin and put on, so he clears his throat.

“Nah—no, m’not interested, like—not,” Benji rambles as more notifications come through, popping loudly between them.

Xavier pays closer attention to the coffee table, putting a foot against it and mentally lacing his shoe over and over as a distraction from the sounds of Benji’s phone and his annoyed grunting and the soft mumbling under his breath. The semi-meditative act of lacing his shoes blurs his vision, a little cycle in his brain over and over.

Until a beat passes and then, Benji laughs—that pretty laugh again. Xavier can’t help but look over, even if it’s a moderately shy tuck of a glance over his shoulder. A feeling of arousal pierces through his stomach when he finds Benji staring at him, instead of looking at his phone, which seems to have disappeared altogether. That arousal does nothing but bloom when Benji smiles at him, crooked and dark.

“Was he hot?” Xavier asks, feeling the words tumble out awkwardly.

“Not like you.”

“What?”

“Well,” Benji draws himself up onto his knees on the other side of the couch, one arm lazily over the back of it. It creates an immediate height difference between them that is an exact opposite of the usual—with Benji looming and Xavier slouched to something resembling small. Muscles tighten along his abdomen, arms looped around his middle. “Just bein’ honest—you asked. Don’t want me to answer truthfully?”

Xavier turns and places the flat of his sneakered heel against Benji’s thigh, finding it considerably thick in this knelt position.

“Don’t fuck with me,” he laughs. Or wheezes. It’s hard to catch his breath the more he’s stared at like that. Like he’s something to be eaten, something to be savored. Something hot and desirable. Benji’s hand loops underneath his calf, sliding appreciatively along the taut muscle there, fingers squeezing deftly, like they’re enjoying the pursuit. He yanks and Xavier is jerked onto his back, flat on the couch, bewildered and very, very turned on. His leg is hefted and bent, Benji’s eyes trailing along the lightly colored denim stretched across his inner thigh.

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you,” Benji says simply.

“I didn’t say that,” Xavier squeaks.

“That’s a fuckin’ riot—cute as you are hot, y’know that, Xavier?” Benji’s other hand drops onto his stomach, making all of Xavier’s body jump up. His hand grasps at a muscular forearm—suddenly it’s just all bare skin, soft black body hair, tattoos everywhere. Xavier wants to put his tongue to him there, taste all the way to the crook of Benji’s elbow and leave a bite mark of his teeth so everyone knows it was him.

Benji’s hand plucks at Xavier’s silly graphic t-shirt, pushing it higher until black serif font is revealed along with a pale and trembling torso. He laughs again, an aphrodisiac that is making it hard for Xavier to breathe and making other things hard as well.

“Whats all this then?” Fingers trail along his tattoo, a rough palm joining to flatten entirely against his stomach. A whimper, completely unintentional passes through Xavier’s lips and makes his cheeks painfully hot. Benji’s dark eyes drink him in. “Sweet boy? Are you, Xavier? I haven’t had a taste yet…”

A few more Grindr notifications pop. Xavier’s foot jerks against the table, sending it skittering along the floor. That too, as one can imagine, is artificially scuffed with fraying carpet that was likely purchased to be just worn in enough. He glances to the side, where Benji is still furiously attacking his phone, in some miserable attempt to cut the notifications. Xavier scrubs a hand across his face, chest hurting, face burning.

He scoots closer and as he does, he laughs.

“Wot?” Benji glances up at him and his expression is so mildly panicked that all of the arousal and fantasy drains from Xavier. It’s replaced with such an overwhelming affection, a desire to cup the back of Benji’s neck and knead out the worry in his eyes. The curve of his accent around that one word, the way the baseball cap has fallen back slightly, revealing curls to fall across his forehead. He looks so sweet, so cute.

“No wonder you can never get any videos to play on your phone” Xavier comments, getting close enough for their shoulders to touch. “You have like—a million apps open. Man, your phone is running like shit.”

“How d’you know I can’t get videos to run?”

“Because—your best friend back home—Maran, right? He’s sending you funny videos and you’re always grumbling under your breath, annoyed—because you can’t get them to load.”

“I don’t grumble,” Benji grumbles, chewing on the side of his mouth. The affection swells more, like a balloon underneath his sternum ready to pop. Xavier gestures to Benji’s phone with an inquiring look. There’s a brief hesitation (something that has weight to it, Xavier maybe missing a moment that feels more significant to the drummer than to the security guard) and it’s carefully handed over.

“You have to close out of apps,” Xavier explains, angling so Benji can see what he’s doing, swiping up on everything that’s open. “Dude, are these brain puzzles?”

“Yeah, shut up, alright? Why do you close ‘em, just gonna open it all tomorrow.” He’s folded arms over his chest, looking decidedly moody and a little petulant.

“It’s running in the background. It’s draining your battery and taking up space.” Xavier laughs, knocking their shoulders together, until the laugh turns to a squawk as the only application left open is Grindr. Xavier is glad that he can’t actually see whatever message Benji’s gotten, his mouth turning dusty. “Uh, I can show you how to make specific apps not send you a notification—if, uh—if that’s what you want.”

“No.” Benji plucks his phone free from Xavier’s hand. “Know how to delete things—not a total illiterate, alright?” He watches as Benji does just that, with him sitting right there. The yellow mask icon disappears from his screen. The background is a mess of other apps, nothing organized and they all cover a rather adorable photo of the Benji and Lark, looking years younger. An old photo, maybe one from a tour that had been hopping church basements and bar corners rather than the venues they get placed in now.

The balloon in Xavier’s chest pops and fills him with love.

He moves back to the other end of the couch, hands fidgeting together.

“I was like, way too into Grindr when I first came out,” he admits shyly. Benji’s turned completely on the couch, knees tucked up, boots causing authentic scuffs finally. The baseball cap’s fallen completely, perhaps lost behind the couch for all eternity. His hair is chaotic and Xavier briefly allows himself the indulgence of imagining soothing fingers through the tangle of curls. He scratches his cheek, bashful as he smiles. “I didn’t figure it out until a guy in the military did the heavy thinking for me.”

“Heavy thinkin’ or—” Benji makes a bit of a lewd gesture but despite that, Xavier can nearly detect a hint of what sounds like jealousy. If maybe it was anyone but Benji, because that sort of bitter tone doesn’t really fit, doesn’t make sense that Benji would be jealous of Riley. Xavier hasn’t even named the man out loud, but a sunny memory of the golden skinned surfer fills his mind, a pedestal unfortunately stacked underneath him.

“Okay, yeah, he kissed me and—and—alright, other stuff?” Xavier laughs, throwing hands in the air, smiling ear to ear. “I was twenty-two.”

“What was he like then?” There is that note again. Xavier gets a funny feeling Riley and Benji wouldn’t get along.

“Mean.” The instant reply makes both of them grin at each other, like this is a new found inside joke and that warms every part of Xavier as if he’s a pad of butter in a very hot pan. “Maybe I’m just sort of into guys that are a little mean to me.”

Benji grins, his lip a curling sneer of it, brows pinched in. His eyes, beautiful and brown and tired, narrow with meaning. Xavier can only smile back, a complete contrast; wide and happy and toothy, with a canine snagging on his lower lip, creating a dimple that Benji stares at. They both stare at each others mouths like complete fools.

Then the door to the room bursts open and Mouse tumbles in, sighing dramatically.

“The drive here was so fucking awful and I hate San Fran traffic so fucking much and I hate this recording studio—you know the owner is such a creep and he leers at Matilda, you’d think Bunny would cut off his balls over it already except Matilda is in that I can handle myself phase—you know if I had an insane, scary dad I would sick them on every creepy music producer alive,” she shouts this all in one giant string, fists at her side.

If she’s shocked to find Xavier, she doesn’t show it with anything more than a disgusted and brief look before it changes to excitement as it lands on Benji.

“Hey, I missed you,” she says, entering the room further. Her eyes land on the bag of chips they’d been warring over. She snatches the bag, popping it open with a fist to the side of it, a loud pop filling the room. “Oh, barbecue, my favorite.”

Both Xavier and Mouse are then shocked—and delighted—by the absolute outburst of laughter from Benji, who has to clutch his sides.

[usafphantom2]

Sentenced to 25 years of hard labor at Leavenworth ,Kansas

When you try to sell top-secret information in 1985, Leavenworth is where you’re going.

One of the administrative sergeants assigned to the unit was in financial distress. He figured that the top secret information that he had about the SR 71 could be sold. He called the Soviet embassy in San Francisco and proposed they give him $100,000 for several key documents related to the SR 71. The Soviets figured that this guy was deranged so they notified US intelligence. He was caught. He got a one-way ticket to Leavenworth.

Just how secure was the top-secret information? Beale Air Force Base in California there was a cipher lock to enter the building. There was another lock to enter the hall where our squadron was then we had a separate room there was safes lining the wall. Each of the RSO‘s and pilots had their own safe and in it was in a larger safe that had to be unlocked in order to get your safe. What did they keep in there? Their checklist, among other things. Security was Paramont around the SR 71 program.

Information from Terry Pappas‘s excellent book SR 71 Blackbird Q&A

Post by Linda Sheffield Miller

@Habubrats71 via X

[apoptoses]

“But now it was a concentrated exploration; they must spend the entire night in the air. [...] Armand observed everything, passengers, stewardesses; he spoke with the pilots; he lay back in the deep first-class seats listening to the engines roar. Double-decker jets particularly enchanted him. He must try longer, more daring adventures: all the way to Port-au-Prince or San Francisco, or Rome, or Madrid or Lisbon, it didn’t matter, as long as Armand was safely landed by dawn.“

From a 2023 perspective this sounds like a grim way to spend your time, but flight in the late 70′s/early 80′s was pretty cushy.

In the United States airlines were regulated until 1978. The Civil Aeronautics Board dictated flight paths, schedules, and pricing, so the only way for airlines to attract customers was via amenities. After ‘78 prices that were previously exorbitant (the average flight was around $400 by current inflation standards) suddenly dropped, and the customer base exploded.

Which means Daniel and Armand were hitting the skies at just the right time: tickets were cheap, but the race to pack as many bodies into a plane as possible was just beginning, and cushy double decker jets were still in the skies.

First class diners ate multi course meals from fine china. Once their bellies were full and they fancied a drink they could go upstairs-

...and sprawl out in the beautiful first class lounge.

These are earlier 70′s models but you could pretty much go up and treat the lounge as you would any social space.

Even if you were flying coach PanAm had you covered with a full upper deck dining area and lounge.

In the 80′s, English liner RegentAir had a full cocktail bar. Other airlines had pianos and other live music to entertain first class passengers.

The first class lounge on a Japan Airlines jet from the 80s marries Japanese tradition with modern 80s design.

When you were in your assigned seat the cabin for short domestic flights was still far more roomy than what you get now. And you were free to smoke on board for the duration of Armand and Daniel’s relationship.

So even if they had to watch their in flight movie on a projector screen with all the other passengers and there was no wifi to be found, Armand and Daniel had plenty of ways to entertain themselves on their all night flights. If you’re gonna be stuck in the air with a vampire boyfriend then this really is the way to go.

[travelolog]

Book your San Francisco to Mumbai flight tickets today and experience a comfortable and adventurous journey across continents. Enjoy exceptional service and unbeatable prices, and discover the vibrant heart of India for unforgettable memories.

[dc-said-bi-robin-rights]

The streets of San Francisco are loud even at night. Rose can hear them beyond the wall-to-ceiling glass windows that cover the left side of the hallway thanks to her enhanced hearing—the low buzz of cars racing each other on the freeway, the insistent honk honk of impatient trucks, the screech of cop cars and ambulances as they whizz past; all of it is clearly audible to her ears, even though they may register only as an indistinguible din to a normal human. And if the sounds are so vivid, the view is even more thanks to her equally enhanced sight—lack of a left eye notwithstanding—but she pays it no mind; she’s not here, in the last-to-top level of Titans Tower, to admire the view, but to respond to a supposed emergency in her team leader’s room.

“Okay, I’m here,” Rose announces irritably, opening the door to Cassie’s room all up in a huff, as she’s done a million times before. “What’s so important you had me drag myself out of bed at three in the fucking morning fo—oh, God.”

Cassie looks tearily up at her from where she’s seated on the bed, having seemingly gone through something of a makeover since Rose saw her last—the remains of her formerly long hair are strewn about her on the bed in disorganized clumps, her scalp conserving nothing but an unruly mass of tufts that Rose might have audibly compared to a dead ferret if she was just the slightest bit more in a merciless mood.

As it is, she just stares. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Look, can you fix it, or not?” Cassie demands, her tone bordering on the edge of hysterical. “Cause I’m really not in the mood for your whole routine right now.”

“Hmm… I guess I could,” Rose says very slowly, her lips curling into a smirk at the urgency in Cassie’s tone. Her mind flashes back to that one time Jason asked her to cut and dye his hair in a motel bathroom. She had done it for free then, no questions asked, but Jason was a friend, and the woman in front of her was anything but. “But why should I?”

Cassie looks torn on whether to wring her neck or break out in hysterics. “Rose.”

“Cassie,” Rose drawls mockingly, already planning ways on how to use her rival’s desperation to her advantage.

The two stare each other down, before Rose decides to take pity on the demigoddess and spit out her demands.

“I’ll do it,” she says, smirking wider at the glimmer of hope that appears in Cassie’s eyes before her next words throughly dash it, “for a price.”

Cassie looks at her warily. “What price?”

“You know that minigolf place in the south side?”

“The fancy one, that you need tickets to enter?”

“Yeah,” Rose nods. “I want you to get tickets for tomorrow.”

Cassie blinks. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Rose nods, raising an eyebrow at the bemused look on Cassie’s face. “What, am I not allowed to enjoy things that aren’t fighting-related now?”

“Well… no, obviously, it’s just…” Cassie starts, before trailing off, apparently giving up on whatever she was about to say. “Nevermind. Buy why minigolf?”

Rose shrugs. “Why not?”

Cassie doesn’t look convinced. “It’s just…”

Her other eyebrow rises to meet the first, slightly annoyed now. “It’s just what?”

“It just doesn’t seem like the sort of thing you’d be into, that’s all,” Cassie says defensively. “I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, I’m just…”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I like our usual language of moans and grunts and the occasional scream just fine,” Rose teases, making Cassie’s cheeks flush slightly, “… but no one has ever me taking mini golfing before.” Her smirk widens flirtatiously. “I thought it could be a new experience.”

“I…” Cassie throws her hands up in h the air. “Sure, okay. I don’t think there’s anyone alive that’s super into mini golf, but if you help me with—” She gestures broadly at the flu-infested raccoon that went and died on top of her scalp— “this, I’ll buy you as many tickets as you want.”

Rose bites her lip, somewhat confused—and annoyed—by Cassie’s wording. She didn’t need ‘as many tickets as she wanted’, she needed only two, because she was trying to get Cassie to invite her out on a date. Was Cassie turning her down? Did she just not catch the obvious flirtation? Was Rose…

“Well?” Cassie says impatiently, holding out a pair of scissors towards Rose. “Are you going to help me or what?”

Oh, okay, you wanna play it like that, huh?

“Not so fast,” Rose says, resisting the urge to sneer. “Tickets first, then I help you.”

“Fine,” Cassie huffs, fishing her phone out of her pocket and typing the url into it, muttering under her breath the whole time. Rose stands there and waits, tapping her foot impatiently, until Cassie puts the phone on the bedside table and looks back up at her. “There. Done. Tickets bought.”

“Took you long enough,” Rose huffs, marching forward and coaxing Cassie to her feet before sweeping all of the clumps of hair off the bed and onto the floor with her hand, ignoring Cassie’s protests that’s she’s gonna have to clean that later. She sits down on the now-empty bed and points down at the floor. “Kneel here, between my legs, with your back to me. That way I can actually reach you.”

“Fine,” Cassie says again, handing her the scissors and doing as Rose says, coughing awkwardly when Rose shifts herself so that her legs are slung over Cassie’s shoulders. “You’re not gonna, um, strangle me with your legs, are you?”

“Not unless you want me to,” Rose jokes, tightening her legs for one brief moment before letting go. “Do you want me to?”

“I’m good, thanks,” Cassie says, flushing slightly. “Just fix my hair, please.”

“Right away, your highness,” Rose says, rolling her eye. Talk about a boring midnight rendezvous. “Hold still…”

Some people still acted surprised when they found this out, but Rose wasn’t the nicest person, and she was categorically not in the best of moods right now. It was with that in mind that she decided right then and there to make Cassie’s morning even worse than hers.

Rose leans forward and gets started on cutting away at Cassie’s hair, not to fix it as she had promised, but to make it even worse on purpose—serves little miss prom queen right for having her drag herself out of bed at three in the morning and then treating her like an errand girl.

“Cassie,” it doesn’t occur to her to ask until she’s halfway through the procedure. “How many tickets did you buy?”

“Well, two, obviously,” Cassie says, turning her head slightly to look at her with a confused look on her face. “Wasn’t it supposed to be like, y’know, a date thing?”

Ah, jeez. So she did get what I was saying.

“It was,” Rose says, looking down at her handiwork and deciding it was too late to start actually making an effort at this point. Her smirk comes back in full force—if she doesn’t actually have a reason to be upset at Cassie, she’ll still do it for the fun of it. She makes a note somewhere in the back of her head to finally talk someone about her Slade-delivered abandonment issues despite knowing full well she’ll never actually do it and continues with her work. “Just checking.”

“Right…”

A few more minutes pass by in silence, the quiet in the room only broken by the snip snip of Rose’s scissors cutting away at Cassie’s hair until it no longer resembled a savaged rodent. Instead, Cassie now boasted a large round bald spot on the top of her head, complete with a jutting widow’s peak and a triangular vertical undercut on both sides of her head. Rose looks at it for a few long seconds, biting her tongue to keep from laughing out loud, and decides it still isn’t enough, so she goes ahead and shaves the word ‘dyke’ into the back of Cassie’s head before stepping back to admire her work.

“I’m done,” she says gleefully. “You can look in the mirror now.”

Cassie gets to her feet and walks over to her mirror. There’s a short pause as her brain takes in the sight of her new self before she starts screaming.

“So,” Rose says, grinning, “we still on for minigolf tomorrow?”

[lawyeronabike]

Misadventures in American Public Transit #4: The Airplane

If the Wright Brothers could see the state of commercial aviation today, they never would have invented the airplane. Prove me wrong.

Obviously I'm exaggerating. But there are serious flaws with American air travel that high speed rail all the more essential.

The TSA: at best, they slow you down, make you take off your shoes, unpack and repack your laptop, and generally be a nuisance. Then there's the times that they want to pat you down. I cringed at the sight of their screens, after I passed through the full body scanner, which showed an anomaly in my genital area. They patted me down last time I flew. It's billions of dollars totally wasted.

2. Planing and Deplaning: I never understood why a perk of spending more money for your ticket was to board the plane earlier. I don't give a shit if I'm the first person on or the last person. The plane will not take off until everybody has boarded. Boarding first means you have more time to sit in those cramped airplane seats. It is notoriously slow to file in and out of an airplane, and needlessly so.

People like CPG Grey love to overcomplicate things, theorizing optimal mathematical algorithms for boarding when true solutions are right in front of our faces.

So how can boarding actually be made better? Goddamn it, do it like trains. No mathematical formula for boarding would beat these two suggestions. 1) Stop assigning seats ahead of time. You claim your seat by sitting in it. 2) Have multiple doors for boarding. Shoving hundreds of people in through a single door has always been madness. Trains can board and deboard masses in seconds. It's long past time for planes to do the same.

3. The Idiocy of airline pricing: I'm not even talking about all the extra fees associated with flying. Everybody knows how annoying that is. What I'm talking about is a pricing model that would make an economist's head spin. What I'm talking about is this.

See this? This is a google price graph (Generated Feb. 21) of the cost to fly from New York to San Francisco on June 1. Why does the price dip? You have to be a psychic to play the airline pricing game. Price go up, price go down. Buy the Dip! Oops. you missed it, you have to pay more now. I don't like this. I want straightforward incentives to help me know when to buy. Amtrak for contrast, prices tickets lower, and raises prices as tickets are sold. I can buy a train ticket not worrying that I'm wasting money by not waiting for the dip.

So intrepid consumers try to save cash. They notice something weird. Sometimes, it is literally cheaper to buy a ticket to a far away place with a layover in a closer place than just to buy a ticket to the nearer place directly. It confounds common sense and is not how the world is supposed to work, according to economics. Don't believe me? Here's an example. (Prices checked on Feb. 21st)

On July 1st Delta flight 528 from Los Angeles to Atlanta costs $249. Or does it?

If you want to fly from Los Angeles to Fort Meyers FL, with a layover in Atlanta, it costs $144. Same airline. Same day. And same fucking flight. The first leg of the journey is provided by our old friend Delta flight 528.

So enterprising travelers start skiplagging. (cough cough search https://skiplagged.com/) They simply exit the airport at the layover airport, getting the correct price for a flight which was clearly mispriced. Surely, airline CEO's see this, and immediately fix their obtuse, opaque, and incredibly frustrating pricing system. Surely, airlines don't want to have a system in place which rewards people for buying seats they don't need, depriving travelers who do need them. Right?

But if you guessed they were going to be giant dicks about it, bonus points for you. Because we live in the worst timeline, they have decided to contractually enforce this insanity. It is a violation of the terms of service for most major airlines to skiplag. Take a look at this gem from Delta.

"Delta prohibits ticketing practices intended to circumvent the published fare that Delta intends to offer for your true itinerary. These practices include:.. 3) Hidden City/Point Beyond Ticketing - The purchase or usage of a fare from a point before the passenger's actual origin or to a point beyond the passenger's actual destination."

Imagine going to law school, thinking you're going to make the world a better place, only to sell out to commercial airlines and have to write shit like this to make the world a worse place.

(I hope the lawyers got paid a lot of money). I'm calling on congress to enact legislation to prohibit airlines from punishing customers for skiplagging.

We would not accept these shenanigans anywhere else. Can you imagine if at the grocery store, buying 10 oranges was cheaper than buying 5, but buying 11 was more expensive again? Can you imagine if to get into the store, you were required to wait in line while security guards with a better retirement plan than you made you take off your shoes, and funneled you in, one by one, through a single entrance, and assigned you a part of the store rather than let you pick where you started shopping? Nobody would accept this. Air travel can and be should be better. Much Better.

In Conclusion:

Plane bad, train good

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

Twilight is the fandom I find a way to bring all of my interests into--sometimes Smeyer makes it ridiculously easy.

So, we find out in Midnight Sun that one of Bella and Renee's most listened to roadtrip songs is the title track from Phantom of the Opera.

Now I find this interesting, because Bella never mentions ever having gone to SEE Phantom of the Opera with Renee.

San Francisco is a reasonable distance for a weekend road trip. Do you really expect me to believe that Renee didn't drag thirteen year old Bella to see Phantom live in San Francisco? I don't think so, that bitch NEEDS the live experience. Bella probably bought the tickets for Renee's birthday in 2003 or 2004. They probably would have seen Frank D'Ambrosio as the Phantom.

We could have had this so easily.

Additionally, I think Phil took Renee to see the Las Vegas Spectacular and she spent about three hours talking to Bella about it over the phone and describing all the differences and how amazing the chandelier was (It reassembled itself in mid-air during the overture, it was really like you were going back in time! Oh, honey I wish you could have seen it!). I feel like Renee preferred Anthony Crivello's interpretation too.

The only thing I think Renee would have hated about the LV spectacular is that there's apparently a regulation that Las Vegas shows can't be longer than 90 minutes so all of the songs were cut down and rearranged for maximum time economy. But I bet Sierra Boggess is her all time fave Christine.

[atletasudando]

Silvia Ortiz, la nueva recordwoman del maratón sudamericano

Un gran fin de semana vivió el atletismo ecuatoriano. El sábado, desde Boston (USA) con el récord sudamericano indoor de Carmen Alder en los 5.000 metros. Y este domingo 3 de diciembre desde Valencia con las grandes actuaciones de sus fondistas. Entre los hombres, Oswaldo Segundo Jami marcó 2:09:05 para batir el récord nacional que Silvio Guerra mantenía desde hace 24 años. Y en damas, con la nueva plusmarca sudamericana de Silvia Patricia Ortiz, quien además obtuvo su ticket directo hacia los Juegos Olímpicos de París. Ortiz, con 2:24:50, encabezó el destacado lote ecuatoriano, que incluyó  las superaciones personales de Mary Zeneide Granja (2:29:30) y Katherine Tisalema (2:32:50). Ortiz dejó atrás los 2:25:35 que la colombiana Angie Rocío Orjuela había conseguido hace poco más de dos meses en el maratón de Berlin. Nacida el 30 de junio de 1992 en Riobamba, Ortiz se venía destacando en los primeros planos de nuestra región en las últimas temporadas pero ahora dio su definitivo salto de calidad. Ortiz comenzó en el atletismo cuando tenía diez años, en su ciudad natal, después de una prueba escolar. Graduada en Educación Física en la Universidad Central de Ecuador, casada y con una hija de 10 años, Valentina, luego concentró sus entrenamientos bajo la guía del profesor Edison Lasso en el club de atletismo Quitumbre. Su primer impacto internacional lo produjo al obtener el Campeonato Sudamericano de Cross Country 2019 en el Parque Los Sámanes, en Guayaquil, donde aventajó a algunas de las más calificadas fondistas de la región como las peruanas Gladys Tejeda e Inés Melchor. Ese mismo año fue 7ª. en el Campeonato Sudamericano de Maratón, en el marco del Maratón de Buenos Aires, donde marcó 2:42:51. Desde entonces, su campaña fue la siguiente: - Se coronó campeona sudamericana de maratón en Asunción con 2:48:08. También participó en el Sudamericano de pista en Guayaquil, logrando la medalla de plata de los 10 mil metros con su marca personal de 34:06.61, detrás de la venezolana Edymar Brea. - En el 21k de Buenos Aires registró su marca personal para la ditancia (1:11:30) y quedó 4ª. en la clasificación del Campeonato Sudamericano. También compitió en pista en el Iberoamericano de La Nucía (10ª. en 5.000 metros con 17:06.19) y en los Juegos Odesur de Asunción (6ª. en 10.000 con 34:38.68) - El 19 de febrero, durante el maratón de Sevilla, batió el récord de su país con 2:27:36 (mejorado dos meses más tarde por Rosa Alva Chacha con 2:26:34 en Hamburgo). Ortiz logró el título sudamericano de medio maratón en Santa Cruz de la Sierra, Bolivia, con 1:14:36. Y al mes siguiente asistió al Campeonato Mundial de Budapest, donde fue la sudamericana mejor ubicada en el maratón: 29ª. con 2:35:09. También estuvo en el Mundial de Ruta en Riga, quedando 35ª. en medio maratón con 1:12:44.   EVOLUCION DEL RECORD SUDAMERICANO DE MARATON (damas) 3:02:06            Dora González (Chile)                    Valparaíso                 23.03.1975 2:59:39            Eleonora Mendonca (Brasil)                     Providence               30.10.1977 2:48:45            Eleonora Mendonca (Brasil)                     Nueva York               22.10.1978 2:48:31            Ena Guevara-Mora (Perú)              San Francisco                      06.06.1982 2:45:25             Angela Tibaduiza (Colombia)                  Sacramento                  04.12.1983 2:36:17             Elizabeth Oberli-Schuh (Venezuela)       Frankfurt                       13.05.1984 2:36:03             Fabiola Luz Rueda-Oppliger (Colombia)  Hauts-de-Seine             16.09.1990 2:33:57             Marcia Narloch (Brasil)                          Berlin                           30.09.1990 2:33:34             Janeth Mayal (Brasil)                            St. Paul-Minneápolis     14.10.1990 2:32:42             Marcia Narloch  (Brasil)                         Los Angeles                 03.03.1991 2:31:27             Janeth Mayal    (Brasil)                         Berlin                           29.09.1991 2:29:34             Carmen Souza Oliveira (Brasil)               Nagoya                        10.03.1996 2:29:17             Adriana Aparecida da Silva (Brasil)         Tokio                            26.02.2012 2:28:54             Inés Melchor     (Perú)                           Londres                        05.08.2012 2:26:48             Inés Melchor     (Perú)                           Berlin                           28.09.2014 2:25:57             Gladys Lucy Tejeda (Perú)                    Sevilla                          20.02.2022 2:25:35             Angie Rocío Orjuela (Colombia)              Berlin                           24.09.2023 2:24:50             Silvia Patricia Ortiz (Ecuador)                Valencia                       03.12.2023 Downhill (no homologadas) 2:52:49            Eleonora Mendonca            (Brasil)                       Boston                                  17.04.1978 2:45:33            Elizabeth Oberli-Schuh (Venezuela)        Boston                                  18.04.1983 2:31:18            Carmen Souza Oliveira (Brasil)    Boston                                  19.04.1993 2:27:41            Carmen Souza Oliveira (Brasil)    Boston                                  18.04.1994 2:26:17            Yolanda Beatriz Caballero (Colombia)     Boston                         18.04.2011 Read the full article