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paperjunk · 2 years ago

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Life or Death - Chapter 06

Summary: Anger issues and memories of a horrific past biting at her heels, Kenzie Ames is pulled back into active service. Sent to Top Gun to help train a handful of Navy Pilots on how to survive their next mission, Ames’ resentment and anger may hurt her and those around her more than she knows if she can’t get it under control. Secrets weighing her down, Ames soon finds a Lieutenant’s persistent desire to know her maybe more than she can handle as the clock ticks away the time she has to make sure that not only do they come home, but the part of herself she left back in the cold, barren, tundra does too.

Author Notes: I am out of practice writing fanfiction. Sorry. This is an OC x Bradly Bradshaw or Reader x Bradly Bradshaw. All 3rd person pov.

Table of Contents: Will update as we go.

A/N: Sorry this chapter was originally quite long so I decided to chop it in half. Also in case anyone is confused, large paragraphs in italics are flashbacks. Thank you! XD

The rhythmic sound of the cicadas in the late night air was sliced in half as metal on metal collided, echoes bouncing across the grocery store's parking lot that was predominantly empty save for the few employees that had the late shift. Shoes shuffling against the gritty pavement, Ames turned at the noise to spot a sky blue, first-generation Ford Bronco, and an image of a blue barbie beach cruiser she had as a child unexpectedly popped into her head with startling clarity. A smile that curled the corners of her lips gained momentum upon seeing Rooster, frozen at the side of what had to be his aforementioned barbie beach cruiser, staring at her. Ames started to laugh.

"Lieutenant," she said through a smile, grocery bags dangling at her fingertips.

"Shit," Rooster mumbled, looking between her and his car, fingers lingering on the handle as he took her in.

Ames was not someone he wanted to run into after last night. Despite Rooster's flirting endeavors, the two had disappeared into a dark corner of the Hard Deck together, and he had come damn near close to asking her to his place for a nightcap. But unfortunately, he remembered she was one of the mission instructors and stopped himself before the damage was done to both his pride and ego. The next day, he had found it hard to even look Ames in the eye as she had taken over the squad and returned to riding their asses. But there she was, looking at him...and...smiling? It was a smile that held too genuine of an emotion. It was too sincere to be mistaken for anything else. One of happiness if Rooster was right. There was no hidden sarcasm or anger behind it as it had reached her eyes, making them crinkle ever so slightly. Then, quite suddenly and wholly unexpectedly, something in Rooster shifted. Just a hop and skip to the left. But there it was.

"Major," he replied, giving her a small smile, gaze darting around the parking lot, looking for her car as he made his way over to her. "You getting groceries? Need help?"

Ames' smile relaxed, and she shrugged her shoulders, watching Rooster move closer, all tan skin contrasting against the white of his T-shirt. His Hawaiian shirt, ones of various shades and patterns, which Ames had dubbed his trademark, were mysteriously absent from his body that night. She could not stop her eyes from following his body as he stopped in front of her, and several thoughts all at once crowded her mind, pressing against each other for space. Giving her head a slight shake to pull herself out of the hole she was quickly digging for herself, Ames couldn't help but chuckle.

'He's a lieutenant Kenzie,' she thought, scolding herself.

She could admit Rooster was rather attractive, and she would never have thought a mustache on its own would do it for her, but what could she say? There he was, and there were her thoughts. Thoughts that were dipping into dangerous territory.

'Find a nice civilian,' she brooded, 'and not someone you're uncertain is going to be alive next month.'

"I'm okay. I'm not that far off," Ames replied aloud, letting her smile rise a tick.

Rooster looked out past the parking lot and into the darkness ahead. "I could give you a ride," he started to say, looking back to the Major, who still had a small smile playing across her lips as he watched her. "It's almost eleven, and you're walking home in the dark. I've no doubt you can handle yourself, but what would my mother say if I didn't give you a ride?"

He watched as Ames' grin broadened so much so that she started to bite the inside of her bottom lip to stop it, smile still pulling at the corners of her mouth. It was something he had noticed on the beach that night. His heart began to quicken, and his determination to keep his distance from her (something he had decided that morning) wavered inside of Rooster as he couldn't stop himself from smiling in response.

'What in the world is wrong with you?' He wanted to berate himself but knew it was pointless.

"Not surprised to see you here, Bradshaw," Phoenix said, and Rooster slowed down to let her catch up. "Another mission with Mav' already? I thought he decided to retire?"

Rooster shook his head. "Unlikely. He likes showing off too much," he chuckled. "What have you been up to the past year? You still with the Aces?"

"Still with them—Robert?" Phoenix said in surprise.

Bob smiled brightly, "You guys got the call too?"

"Good to see you, Bob. We're late," Rooster said, giving Bob a hard pat on the back before Phoenix could reply.

"You are late, Lieutenants!" Admiral Simpson exclaimed, watching them practically running down the hall in odd quick shuffling steps.

Rooster could hear footsteps behind him but ignored them as he quickly saluted and slipped into the mission briefing room through the second door farther down the hall.

Stopping briefly, he noticed someone was already sitting in the middle seat close to a closed and shuttered window. She was out of uniform, her black shirt exposing part of her shoulder as hair brushed against the back of her neck. Several long scars dipped below the collar of her shirt, piquing Rooster's interest.

"Who's that?" Phoenix asked quietly, stepping up beside Rooster, leaning forward slightly to catch the woman's profile. "Don't recognize her."

Rooster shrugged his shoulders slightly as Bob walked past them, taking a seat in the second row just as Hangman took one in the front, not yet having had the opportunity to see all the faces in the room.

"She's cute," Phoenix replied with a grin that was being pressed down rather badly. "Go sit by her."

"What?" Rooster responded, looking down at his friend, face full of disbelief. "What are you, my wingman?"

"Damn right!" Phoenix grinned. "You better, or someone else will."

Rooster laughed, shaking his head. "Not all of us can date our back seaters."

Phoenix's eyes went wide, and he suspected she would have hit him if there weren't witnesses. "I told you that in confidence, so shut your mouth, or I will," the woman growled low, eyes shooting daggers at her friend.

Rooster held his hands up placatingly as he backed up the aisle, a grin overtaking his face as he mimed, zipping his mouth shut.

"I'm going to punch that smug face of yours," Phoenix retorted.

Slipping into the middle seat on the woman's right, she started to shift away from him, making him wonder if sitting next to her had been a mistake when he noticed the collection of scar tissue higher up on her neck near the back of her jawline. He knew a thing or two about scars having a few of his own, and wondered just how many she had.

'Just introduce yourself, Rooster. What's your name? Where are you stationed? Seeing anybody?'

And then Hangman just had to open his mouth. That man did not know how to not be an asshole.

"If you ever want help messin' with him, let me know so I can get in on that," Rooster said, bending towards her.

Her head turned in his direction, a smile lifting the corners of her lips. Too late, Rooster realized that he had tilted in a little too close in his desire to whisper to her. So close, he could, in fact, see specks of amber scattered in her green eyes, count three small moles following a line from the corner of her left eye, and light freckles splashed across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. In the space between one moment to the next, a tightness filled his chest, and a strange tingle raced up his spine, spreading out across his shoulders and the base of his skull. And just as quickly, it was gone.

Then the shit abruptly hit the fan.

"This is Major Kenzie' The King' Ames..."

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A/N: Thank you for reading!! Next chapter up soon!

#top gun maverick #top gun #Bradley Bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #OC x Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #reader x bradley rooster bradshaw #Rooster #OC #OC x Bradley Bradshaw #reader x bradley bradshaw #mywriting

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lucysweatslove · 3 years ago

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what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

tell a story about your childhood

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

One thing I’m proud of… well I got a 4.0 in my grad program. That was taking 18 credits, working on research (knowledge of fertility preservation in the transgender population), and teaching chemistry labs to 40-60 students each semester. So yeah, pretty proud of that.

Okay so when I was a kid (like 3-4) I had a Barbie Jeep power wheels (my older sis had the beach cruiser). I loved riding it, and would often use chalk on the driveway to build a little city and go driving around. I also liked crossing the ACTUAL street in my power wheel. Also on my bike. Or just walking. My mom did NOT like this and would try to talk to me over and over about how dangerous it is. Now in my mind, I knew the concern was getting hit by a car. I had learned to stop, look, and listen before crossing. I was FINE, okay. So I ignored my mom because obviously I wasn’t gonna cross if a car was coming and I COULD TELL. So my mom finally, frustrated, tells me if I cross over the line into the street, she will have to spank me (this was a different time where this was not just accepted but like… encouraged even by child psychologists). So I ride my power wheels right up to the line, stop, turn my head around, and say, “I guess you’ll just have to spank me then” and rode off.

What shaped me into who I am? Too many things to list, but the top 3 I can think of: My preschool teacher encouraging me (I was her master’s thesis and the main reason I did not go to kindergarten), my… assault, we will call it… and the aftermath thereof (I’ve told some of it but not everything that happened following this), and the birth/prescence of my little sister.

Thanks John :)

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frangipanidownunder · 6 years ago

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Returning the Past: part 1

Okay, so after more than a year of working on this beast, I am finally going to post what has become known as my ‘Aussie casefile’. (Hey @lepus-arcticus and @baronessblixen - remember this?)

This started as an idea for a multi-chap fic set downunder by way of an explanation for that rowboat scene in IWTB. In this universe, M&S are newlyweds.

This is ten chapters of nonsense, but written with love. I’ll post a couple of chapters a week and most of it will be under a cut because, you know, words.

Disclaimer: I am a fake Aussie. I have never been to the Daintree. But I am not a fake fiction writer - I made a lot of this stuff up...

Chapter One

There was a long stretch of white sand, the whitest she’d ever seen and where the ocean met it, blues and greens swirled in a tortoiseshell pattern. The row of trees bordering the beach was low, gnarly and the darkest green. A mint-fresh smell rose on the hot, light breeze. She could imagine the warm water dragging sand between her toes, the wind whipping her sarong around her legs, her hair across her face, the sun dappling her body. She closed her eyes and breathed in, long and slow. When she opened them again, the perfect view was still there.

But Mulder wanted to go monster-hunting and he was practically out the door before they’d even unpacked.

“Come on Scully, the Tasmanian tiger has been spotted in these parts on numerous occasions.”

“And no doubt always by men who’d drunk too much of the local amber nectar. Thylacines have been extinct since 1936, Mulder. At the hands of man. And we’re 2000 miles from Tasmania. The Great Barrier reef is not, and has never been, the natural habitat of the Tasmanian tiger. And Romero Sands is an ‘exclusive honeymoon retreat offering the most private of accommodation’ , not a magical, mystery tour.” She turned to face him. “Besides, I want to do the tree top walk and the island tour. And there are those little row boats you can hire.”

He grinned. “I know, I know. And we will do all those things, I promise. But please come tiger hunting with me first. Please.”

She looked back at the beach, sun glinting off the turquoise water before turning to Mulder, decked out in camouflage gear and binoculars and not for the first time wondered what the fuck she was doing.

They drove into the depths of the rainforest, following the nasal directions of the GPS. Towering ferns at the roadside cast crazy patterns the road, the tree canopy so tall that the highest branches looked like witches fingers scraping the blue sky. Even in the air conditioning, her sunglasses slipped down her nose.

“There’s a lot of paranormal activity downunder, Scully.”

She looked at his lap and smiled. “I bet there is.”

He chuffed and drummed the steering wheel. “No really, there have been many reports of UFO activity and alien abductions over the years. I’ve been in contact with the UFO and Paranormal Research Society of Australia. It’s fascinating.”

She twirled her hair in her fingers and laughed softly. A honeymoon in tropical Australia, about as far away from the darkness as they could get and yet. “I thought you wanted to find a thylacine, Mulder. Not a little green man.”

“Grey, Scully,” he said, squeezing her knee. “All these years together and you still get it wrong.”

“There doesn’t seem to be anything grey about Australia.”

He looked out of his window and nodded. “Tropical rainforest. It’s either hot and wet or hot and dry.”

“Sounds about right.” She gnawed on her knuckles as he gave her a look.

“So, after we’ve done with Tasmanian tiger hunting can we go alien hunting?”

She shook her head and laughed. “I didn’t realise that marriage would revert you to the little boy version of yourself, Mulder. Asking me what you can and can’t do like I’m your mother.”

“And I didn’t realise that marriage would turn you into an even bigger stick in the mud, Scully. We’ve flown halfway around the world and you don’t seem to want to open yourself up to new adventures in a different hemisphere. I mean the water goes down the plughole the other way round. The animals are unique, marsupials and monotremes. This should be right up your alley.”

“Everything is out to kill you – plants, birds, fish, insects, reptiles.”

“But, Scully, the sky is enormous. There are different constellations. Australia is an amazing place. A continent in its own right. And all you want to do is lounge by the pool.”

“Mulder, you’re whining.”

“I think you’ll find that’s whinging, Scully. Over here, it’s whinging. I memorised the Strine dictionary to prove it.”

“Strine or no Strine, mate, whatever it is, you’re fair dinkum doing it.”

“I just want to experience everything that there is to offer here – rainforest, coral reef, marsupials extinct or otherwise.”

“And Aussie aliens?”

He turned and gave her the full watt smile. “Do you think they say ‘G’day, mate’ when they greet you here?”

She reached in to her bag to get a bottle of water. “Yeah, and maybe they throw a prawn on the barbie as a welcome party instead of torturing you.” His smile fell away. He chewed his lip. She saw how his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, Mulder. That was out of line.” She ran her hand over his forearm.

“S’okay, Scully. It’s just sometimes it all comes back…”

She rolled her lips. “I know.”

Clouds gathered ahead, brooding grey. In her guilty silence she imagined the faces of aliens, hideous and tattered at the edges.

They turned down the narrow lane marked on her map as Eddie Romero Track and pulled up in the small car park, bays edged with pitted sleepers and low growing ferns sprouting at the corners. The air was full. Scully reapplied her sunscreen, sprayed insect repellent on them both and adjusted her hat. She shrugged a small back pack over her shoulders and Mulder took the heavier one.

“What have you got in there, Mulder? A wombat?”

He unbuttoned his khaki shirt further as the air grew thicker. “I might have packed for all occasions, just like the good little Indian Guide I was.”

She walked to the map board that stood next to the trail entrance. “I don’t think that it’s likely to rain sleeping bags here, Mulder. Just the usual tropical stuff.” She looked up, eyeing the rolling clouds above.

“It might not need to rain sleeping bags, Scully. But I might just get lucky, eh?” He pulled open the bag and showed her the rolled up silver fabric and telltale zip.

“Mulder, if you think I’m sleeping out here, you are nuttier than the macadamia plantation we passed. Besides we’ve got that wonderful four-poster king-sized bed back at the villa. You’ll always get lucky with that thing.”

He chuckled. “The guide should be here soon. I was told to pack all this stuff. Just in case.”

“Well, this is about the first time you ever been quite so prepared.” She wandered to the edge of the forest where the track began. There was a rustling in the undergrowth. She peered in further and saw two kangaroos. She beckoned for Mulder, putting a finger over her lips as he strode closer. The animals, smaller than she expected stood stock still, clearly sensing human presence. Their bodies marked with a reddish brown jacket, paler grey elsewhere and a distinctive black stripe across its face that set them apart from the photos she’d seen in tourist brochures. The animals turned and bounced deeper into the forest.

“Pretty good spot on the first trip here, Scully.”

“They were smaller and prettier than I’d imagined. I didn’t realise they had such distinctive markings.”

Behind them, car tyres scrunched over grave. They both turned to watch a land cruiser pull into the space next to their rental.

“Mr and Mrs Mulder?” The young woman held out her hand. “I’m Steph Callow.”

Scully stared at Mulder. He didn’t look at her, as he shook Steph’s hand. “Thanks for coming out with us.”

She smiled at him. “Not sure we’re going to see anything but there might be evidence.” She held out her hand to Scully. “Mrs Mulder, nice to meet you. Your husband’s enthusiasm has been full-on. I really hope we can find something for you both.”

“Dana Scully,” she said, shaking Steph’s hand. “My husband’s enthusiasm,” she eyed Mulder, who was finding the map very interesting, “is one of his most enduring traits.”

“Endearing, Scully? Did you say endearing?”

Steph stood between them before Mulder shrugged his backpack higher and grinned. “Let’s go and spy on some thylacines.”

A way in and her legs were already aching; her new walking boots were heavy, making her feet sweaty hot. She was out of practice. Paediatric surgery was a million miles from chasing aliens, cryptids and human monsters. She sucked on the top of a water bottle and squashed another mozzie against her arm.

The noises of the Australian bush were a mix of musical and maniacal and she had quickly grown accustomed to the background sounds, but the feral growl that rumbled ahead had her throat drying. She stopped and tried to listen, but all she heard was Steph and Mulder chatting in the background. She picked up her pace to catch up with them.

“So, where exactly was the latest sighting, Steph?” she asked.

“Another couple of kays in.” She stabbed a spot on the map. “There’ve been a few sightings there. It’s a dense clump of Alpinia caerulea. A native ginger. And lots of ferns and smaller understory plants. There’s a creek and the small marsupials, possums and tree kangaroos love it. It’s prime hunting grounds. The last time I saw one, a young male, was about a month ago.”

Mulder swiped the sweat from his forehead. “And other members of the group saw a female with cubs at the same spot.”

Scully pulled the map from him, flattening it out in her hand. It was just miles and miles of bush. Five hundred miles, in fact. “Group? What kind of group?”

“Why so sceptical, Dr Scully?”

She whacked his arm. “What kind of group?”

He stretched his neck side to side. Steph drank from her water bottle, seemingly oblivious.

“Mulder?”

The rumbling growl filled the air. They both looked towards it. Thick low-growing pines, bulbous trunks, eucalypts in silvery spotted greys dominated the view in both directions. The birdsong had silenced.

“Could be a koala,” Steph said, looking up. “People often mistake them for dogs.”

“I thought they were nocturnal.”

“They are usually, but it’s not uncommon to see them during the day. And the group Mr Mulder is referring to, is the FNQAAS. We often head out here, to watch the lights.”

Scully shucked off her backpack and let it drop to the ground. “The funkas? The lights?”

Mulder shrugged and looked up again, shielding his eyes.

“The Far North Queensland Alien Abductee Society. They hold regular meetings here to watch the mysterious lights that sometimes appear in the middle canopy. There are blue and white lights that bounce over the trees.”

“And you’ve seen them?”

“Oh, yes,” Steph said. “When I was taken they were the brightest they’ve ever been.”

Scully licked her lips and looked at Mulder. “When you were taken?”

Mulder stepped towards her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Steph is an abductee. And president of the FNQAAS. She’s been taken several times.”

“Mr Mulder tells me you’ve both had similar experiences yourself,” Steph said, offering them a muesli bar.

Scully sighed and shook her head. “I don’t believe this, Mulder.” She tried to keep her voice steady. “You said this was a trip to see thylacines, a nice little trip to the forest. But…”

“The thylacine sightings are linked to the lights and the abductions, Scully. It’s a fascinating case.”

“A case. On our honeymoon?”

Mulder smiled over at Steph, who was bent down taking photos of an elegant fern frond that curled outward. “Scully, I didn’t tell you at first because I knew you wouldn’t come. There are more holes in the stories than the plants in this forest but it gets us out and about.”

“No, Mulder. It gets you out doing the things you want to do. I get out plenty. It’s you who sits in that house all day reading stuff about funky Aussie alien hunters. There are no thylacines here. There are no lights. There have been no abductions. These people have probably inhaled some exotic fungus and shredded their minds. And once again, you’ve fallen for it.”

She grabbed her bag and stalked away.

“Scully! Where are you going?”

“Back to the car. You can get a lift back with funky Steph.”

She headed back along the path listening to Mulder’s footsteps crackling across the springy forest floor.

“Scully, wait.”

The path ahead seemed darker than on the way in, the gnarled branches twisting lower, obstructing her way. Leaves scratched at her arms and legs, leaving red marks.

As she rounded a bend, the first drops of rain began. She heard the low rumbling growl. The clouds darkened. The trees loomed higher and higher. Her breath came in hard spurts. Mulder grabbed her arm just as the first lightning strike lit up the sky. It flashed and arced, causing her to stumble. He fell with her. Steph was close behind and she knelt where they fell, pointing up.

Scully followed the blue light, low and flat, as it streamed off the canopy. Mulder shielded his brow and a slow smile spread across his face. The white light followed, in smaller dots, bouncing around. The air smelt of sulphur. The growl grew louder and louder until a peal of high-pitched barking filled their ears.

“This is amazing, Scully.” Mulder was holding her elbow and stood up, bringing her with him. A blinding flash crashed above them. Twigs snapped and split, raining down on them, bark scratching their skin.

An ominous crack, deep silence, then a large branch crashed through the air, sending them barrelling to the ground.

#txf fanfic #my fanfiction #returning the past #multi-chapter casefile #mulder and scully downunder

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just-folie-a-deux-it · 6 years ago

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Brendon recently said in a stream that he loves wearing pink, so can you write hcs about Brendon wearing pink? -☔

I also love Brendon wearing pink omfg yes

He likes all kinds of pink, so some days it’s a soft, pale pink that makes him think of heart-shaped glasses and the morning just as the Sun starts to rise. He’ll tug on a cardigan the shade of cotton candy clouds and smile to himself because today will be gentle and he will be kind and leave positivity everywhere he goes like a trail of soft kisses across a lover’s skin.

Other days its bright pink, the kind that almost makes your eyes hurt because holy shit that makes neon look faded. That sort of pink is loud like 80′s dance music that never stops playing, and he’ll tug on some jeans the color of Barbie’s beach cruiser and dance the night away until he’s dripping with sweat and the grin across his face makes his cheeks hurt.

Then there’s that kind of baby pink that’s a mix between the two, and that’s hot Summer days where he lays by the pool and sips at drinks that are so sweet you can’t even tell you’re getting drunk until you’ve stripped all your clothes off and are naked in the pool, clinging to whoever makes the mistake of swimming close to you. He’s got swim trunks that color, bubblegum that’s losing its flavor because you’ve been chewing it too long but you’re not ready to spit it out just yet.

#my dog has found her obnoxious squeaky toy I thought we got rid of ages ago so if you see any grammar errors plz be kind I can't fucking con #Anonymous

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loulougoingsolo · 6 years ago

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Instant pot & Pet rocks

Is the Instant Pot ramen a gateway drug to trying instant pot? I'm not a huge fan of anything mindaltering, and I feel eating a full pot of ramen would definately change you as a person. This GMM episode is not the one that should make you hungry, but ramen...I have a huge craving for monosodium glutamate after seeing all that goodness. Also, I would eat that nasty-looking mushy pizza in an instant.

I love how Link instantly went for into a psychopath mode with the barbies. I had a barbie beach cruiser as a kid (actuslly it's still dlmewhere), and I feel it was reason for at least a few murders. My barbies were twisted in many ways, and the storylines could make a pretty good drama series. Or a steamy soap opera. I may have been a bit too old to play with barbies...😏 I eonder if you could actually bend the doll hands by heating them, or do they just melt into those nobs?

I actually am somewhat face blind. I usually recognize people by their voice or by non-facial attributes, and in an unexpected situation, I get confused. A while back I misidentified a man with a dog near my parents' entryway to be my dad. I first realized the dog was wrong, but it took me quite a while to figure out that so was the man.��

I haven't searched Netflix for steamy movies, but the moment I heard the topic of the game in More, I knew Stevie would put Below her mouth on the list. I've seen it, and it definately fits the bill. It's also one of the few LGBTQ+ movies on our regional Netflix. Not the best one, but probably easily the steamiest. And a steamy bathroom is also involved. Honestly, the roofer conversation was interesting to say the least, with Rhett saying roofers are sexy, and Link talking about the roofers outside his bathroom window...😁

GMM has really come a long way from the days when an electric toothbrush in a sleeve made the guys blush and giggle. Apparently some of the guys' dirty imagination has stuck on me, too, because my mind took the same route as Link's with that pet rock. I didn't expect him to word his thoughts, though - but I guess it's cool in More.

"This is Good Mythical More. We can say what we like."

- Link, GMMore #1485 -

#rhett and link #gmm #gmmore #gmm 1485 #instant pot #putting things in things #steamy netflix movies #roofer IS a word in urbandictionary #not what you'd expect

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thepalladiantraveler · 6 years ago

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Trapped inside my sketchy, cobweb-filled memory, from a mandatory English literature class that I attended when I was a young lad of just 15, are the only lines I can recall from Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s late 16th Century poem, Rime of the Ancient Mariner: “Water, water every where, Nor any drop to drink.” Supposedly, Coleridge’s poem was inspired by British Captain James Cook’s voyage of exploration around the South Seas and the Pacific Ocean, which included Queensland, Australia where I recently vacationed.

So, what’s the connection between me and Sammy the Poet? Well, Orna O’Reilly, my significant other and fellow blogger, and I fled winter back home to enjoy a brief, second summer along the Sunshine Coast, and every morning for 24 straight days I would stand on the balcony of our ninth floor apartment at the Duporth Riverside complex in Maroochydore and gaze down and out at the panorama of the Maroochy River flowing into the Coral Sea and quietly remark to myself, “Water, water everywhere.”

My daily ritual began at around 6:00 a.m. when the “early to bed, early to rise” locals raced past my sleepy eyes aboard kayaks, canoes, stand-up paddle boards, pontoons, sail and motor boats and jet skis. Although delighted, it really pained me to watch as every passing day I would chomp at the bit to join in all that fun-loving water traffic below.

My wish finally came true as Orna and I and the rest of our party of six slipped into a flotilla of kayaks and a lone Canadian canoe and were expertly guided along the outer banks of the Maroochy by Neil Oldham, a master kayaker and pro guide for Sunshine Coast Sea Kayaking.

Our sunset glide took us around Goats Island, past Pin Cushion Island, along Mudjimba’s North Shore and down Stingray Alley, not to mention a few tricky spots where the low tide left us a bit high and dry. At the midway point we beached our craft and cracked open a few cold ones. A tip of the paddle to Neil for organizing this really cool experience, my first ever since coming ashore in Oz.

Now sea, actually river worthy, I convinced Orna to give it another go and we rented a little half-cabin cruiser from Ready 2 Go Boat Hire at the Noosa Marina in Tewantin for a four-hour float up and down the busy Noosa River. Not the best of craft, we pretty much bobbed and weaved our way in and out of heavy traffic all day long, trying desperately to avoid all the wakes created by an armada of larger craft zipping around our “little boat that could.”

All the way down to where the Noosa meets the mouth of the Coral Sea, with a stop midway in the Noosa Sound to grab a couple of cold ones and an egg salad sanger (sandwich), we returned back to the dock at Noosa Marina without incident, but with a promise to each other that next time, in the words of Roy Scheider from the movie Jaws, “We’re gonna need a bigger boat.”

If bigger is better, then by golly this time around we’ve finally got it covered: a six-person pontoon boat, complete with an on-board barbie, that we rented from Swan Boat Hire in Maroochydore for our third and final self-drive cruise.

Shoving off from the banks of the Maroochy, our crew of four headed up-river with hardly any traffic at all. Keeping the craft between the red and green buoys, I guided our craft straight and true just like Columbus over the ocean blue. On our return leg, we cracked a right and cracked open another cold one and went quietly up Petrie Creek until our clock struck “head back to GO.”

Our self-drive antics on water now over, there’s still one, atop-the-wake activity left on our Down Under to-do list. It involves eating and drinking while someone else steers the boat.

If you book only one cruise while staying along the Sunshine Coast make it a sunset dinner cruise aboard the Noosa Cruiser Restaurant & Bar (NCR&B), rated no. 1 by TripAdvisor.

Waved through the security gate at the Noosa Marina in Tewantin by Ron, the owner/operator of the boat, we make our way on board and are led to our table by Dan, the head waiter. Quick on the draw, he has us twisting the top off the first of several bottles of chilled Aussie Pinto Gris in no time.

As the sun begins its descent, Skipper Greg puts the cruiser in glide and away we go, up the Noosa to the edge of Lake Cooroibah and back, passing by Sir Richard Branson‘s private Makepeace Island along the way, where exclusive and luxurious accommodation awaits 22 privileged castaways. Say “hey” to Sir R for me, will ya?

And, our white tablecloth service aboard the NCR&B? How about Chef Tristan’s appetizer plate of locally fished oysters, king shrimps, lemon pepper calamari and an avocado and mango salad. Our main follows, a pan-seared darn of Tasmanian Atlantic salmon. And our floating feast ends with a fruity and creamy dessert. Mmm.

What a fun way to spend sunset aboard the Noosa Cruiser Restaurant & Bar. Me and my mates handled the merriment, Skipper Greg piloted the boat and Uber drove us home safely.

Australia boasts 21k+ miles of jaw-dropping coastline and some of it winds its way around the Sunshine Coast. Join us next time when we’ll trek along the Costal Pathway to have a look at some of the OMG beaches and, no doubt, leave a few footprints in the sand before our final hooroo (goodbye) to the land Down Under.

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Discovering Australia’s Sunshine Coast: Wet ‘n Wild Trapped inside my sketchy, cobweb-filled memory, from a mandatory English literature class that I attended when I was a young lad of just 15, are the only lines I can recall from Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s late 16th Century poem, …

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postcards-to-home · 7 years ago

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Sunshine, Positivity & Rainbows

4/14/18

Shit, are they mad at me?

“I just.. didn’t feel like it tonight”

**Sighs*, Okay whatever, but you were the one who got everyone onto the idea

Ya.. I know. Just tired, . again.

“Okay.. well see ya later”

9pm on a Saturday night and I’ve managed to do it again.I’ve master the skills it takes to round up the miscellaneous people that make up our “Drinking club.”Who doesn’t go out and drink on a Saturday night. That’s would be so un-American of us if we didn’t get tanked for the hell of it. Somehow I’ve manged tot ake a nap, at 7pm on a Saturday and it all went to shit after that. From known reasons It’s the part of me that hates committing to an idea of which is “going out.” I think I’ve turned into an old lady considering who I used to be last year at this time. Just the thought of going out had me dressed and drinking by 7pm at my desk bumping tunes with my friends. Currently that part of me has dwindled fondly allowing the element of myself that appreciates relaxing to bloom into a full addiction. Fomo, the fear of missing out, is no longer a consideration on my mental pallet of thoughts. Indulging in my thoughts of the past, present and future in a circular manner has enthralled me. There has been no other time in my entire existence I have had the ability to chew away at my whole and tear it apart bit by bit in the most selfish way possible. Others thoughts, actions and feelings are no longer in my vision, persuading me in either direction. This is not to say I don’t ask my loved ones for advice or ask their opinion. I’ve just never felt so liberated in seeking my own truths, and understanding my own self worth. I’ve had many in the past say “ Know your worth,” and it’s a saying easy to shrug off. But now I truly understand the value within that whole-heartedly and it’s a beautiful thing.

Referencing the discussion that sprawled this pondering, my friends in deed were disappointed with my decision. It is that point in the semester where people’s feelings are coming out at the seams quite literally. Self control has worn thin, attitudes have risen and it is not to be taken so personally .Stress and homesickness come out at the oddest times. There are things going on with people, their home lives trickling through the walls they’ve built up and its something they aren’t necessarily prepared to face. The end is near. I was watching Girls Incarcerated on Netflix which is a television show about teenage girls living in a juvenile detention center in the Midwest. The show was fascinating to watch from an educational standpoint with a lot to say about living. What struck me the most was how the young girls acted before it was their release date. Screaming, throwing fits the whole nine yards of emotions across the spectrum. Wouldn’t they be excited? Well that would have been the obvious answer but for a lot of them home was an unknown, and it is in human nature to fear the unknown. Itook that message and directly related it back to how it is at school now. Sure we aren’t in prison and things aren’t horrible we are all fairly happy but the end is quickly approaching. There is an ultimate fear of the unknown of how things a re going to be when we return to our lives in the states,. I know I can agree with that. Our lives are essentially on hold here , waiting to resume until we make our ways back one by one. There’s all this stress and anxiety and this build up of excitement, which sometimes translates to anger, or worry or even depression. It’s a hard pill to swallow for some of us as we have to face things we’ve been avoiding. What I hope from admitting this is that we can understand these attributes to some of declines the past few days and weeks and come together to celebrate the present Even just doing small things like taking a hike after class would make all the difference because like We’ve all heard before “ You only live once so make it count.”

4/14/18

“ I need an ambulance,” said Alexis as she began to beg and plead for her mother. She was sitting hard on the rocks that straddled North Steyne beach along the ocean. She was cradling her right foot in her palm near tears, whimpering. We had been bare foot a quarter mile from our hot spot on the sand, with nothing but our bathing suits on and a camera in hand to take pictures. With the wind at a near 20 mph and 87-degree weather it was perfect photo shoot weather. I had a new swimsuit, Alexis had her camera shipped over when her parents came through and it was an all around good time just loving life. That was until she stepped on a barnacle and the whole world came spinning down around her. I won’t continue to embarrass her but after a few hours, assistance from strangers and life guards she finally waddled onto the beach only to immediately down a vodka cruiser. It was well deserved to say the least.Our day simmered down quickly.

The swim shoot was a MAJOR success, in case you were all wondering. Pictures soon to come in the future :)

4/15/18

Quietness has struck the castle grounds. Many on campus students have begun disembarking on journeys across country as finals are quickly approaching. The school bar has been shut down briefly until further notice due to underage drinking and a promiscuous student body. To push potential boredom out of hindsight we rose to the occasion and traveled to the Botanical Gardens in Sydney. Miranda, Alexis and I had a day for ourselves exploring the extensive flower gardens that were not only arrangements of flowers but rather mini museums so to speak. Huddled together by their groupings, there was a large collection of exotic plants, fern collections, Australia’s largest succulent plant wall and much more. Seeing the beauty of full bloomed wax begonias alongside the trifecta of geraniums reminded me so fondly of home. The smells flowers bring arises such calamity from within. Everywhere from the lavender bushels to the 7ft tall sunflowers stalks I felt welcomed and at ease under the sweet golden rays of sydney’s sunshine.

The three of us even pondered the museum Art Gallery of New South Wales, located right along side the gardens. A surprise find that we enjoyed delightfully so. The museum was filled with a mix of old and new from historical European oil paintings to contemporary and modern art. The curiosities that are evoked from such art is awe-inspiring. I thought very much of how Emily and Grace would favor the rainbow colored mirrored windows, the hum of the museum and pondering the bookstore openheartedly. Maybe one day, but for now ill have to keep my bits of inspiration to myself for now, my musings locked away with a forgotten key. Please take a fierce look at my new shoes. I’m not one to brag BUT they do have me feeling like a real life Barbie doll in action.

#pch18 #Sydney

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