#but at least my flight landed like 30 minutes early somehow.

[gobbluthbutagirl]

i’ve had a headache since i left the airport yesterday and i thought maybe it would go away while i was asleep but it did not. hoping it will go away when i drink some coffee because if not i guess i’ll just have to live like this until i die

[kurokonoboisket]

Knb Airplane headcanons

Awakening from my eternal slumber to drop this post.

Kagami:

He puts his headphones in the minute he arrives at the airport and he doesn’t take them off until he lands (except for the safety demonstration he’s not going to be RUDE)

He listens to music and probably daydreams about basketball or something.

Absolutely did not bring enough clothes and he’ll be wearing the same shirt all week.

He brought one carryon and half of it is filled with plane snacks. But he wasn’t about to check a bag for an extra 30 dollars don’t be ridiculous.

He prefers the aisle seat for the leg room and a quick escape to the bathroom.

Gets up to pee a minimum of 3 times.

But he helped an old lady put her luggage in the overhead compartment.

Kuroko:

Got lost looking for his gate.

He does flights completely raw. No music. No games. No movies. No reading. Just vacant dissociation. He sits there and stares at the little plane on the tv on the seat in front of him for 4 hours.

He is absolutely getting stuck in the middle seat.

Sometimes he will watch the movies on other people’s screens but he will never watch his own.

The flight attendant forgot to ask him if he wanted a complimentary sack :(

But it’s okay he bought a little baked treat at the coffee shop in the airport .

Probably reads the safety pamphlet.

Kise:

Dressed to impress. He is looking for his airport crush.

The flight attendants have to body slam his suitcase into the overhead compartment because it’s way too big but he gets away with it.

Makes small talk with the person sitting next to him.

Window seat princess.

Has at least 3 screens open. He’s got a movie playing on the seat in front of him, he’s got his laptop open and he is also on his phone.

Goes full iPad kid.

Midorima:

Shows up the the airport 3 hours early.

Brings a months worth of luggage for a 3 day trip.

A nervous flyer, he sits the and white knuckles the arm rests the entire flight.

He does not fly on unlucky days.

He sits there and plays sudoku the entire flight. Not even on his phone either, he has a printed book of sudoku puzzles.

He’s that guy who turns on his reading light when the entire rest of the plane is dark.

He sits in the aisle and gets annoyed every time someone gets up to use the bathroom because he’s a little hater.

Aomine:

He thinks he wants the window seat but then he spends the entire flight complaining that he doesn’t have enough leg room.

Watches movies on the plane but he doesn’t have any shame for what movie it is.

Takes his headphones out when the flight attendant tells him to for the safety demonstration and then blatantly puts them right back in after they leave.

Whole heartedly believes that if something happened to the pilot, he could land the plane.

Momoi:

She probably was also a little late but it’s Aomine’s fault somehow.

She stops and gets a fun little drink after security and then goes and watches the planes take off.

Also if she is not flying then she is tracking everybody’s flights like a dad.

She starts out in the aisle seat but switches with Aomine half way through because he won’t stop complaining about not having enough leg room.

She listens to music and plays games on her phone.

Absolutely annihilating like 200 levels of wordscapes.

If she knows them, she will force the person beside her to play her phone game with her.

Murasakibara:

Chronic man-spreader.

Showed up to the airport 15 minutes before boarding, took his sweet time getting to the gate, stopped for food but somehow still made it on time.

Puts on a movie but then falls asleep the entire flight.

Armrest hog send this man to jail.

Asks the flight attendant for an extra snack.

Aisle seat for sure he wouldn’t survive the middle seat.

Akashi:

He is flying business class.

And he is wearing his Sunday best.

Arrives punctually, has a drink and a snack in the business class lounge before hand.

He probably also makes small talk with the person sitting next to him (Just to see if he can)

During the flight he mostly reads.

But he usually picks the window seat so he can look out the window (and plot)

Sometimes he will pull out his laptop and do work on the plane

[miekasa]

okay but what about airport!levi? he gives quiet businessman vibes sitting in his slacks and turtleneck

IN HIS TURTLENECK 😭😭 He would also be quiet and to himself, but not in the emo way. You got me thinking about all of them now, so here are my other thoughts about the boys at the airport.

Levi

He thinks the idea of separating classes on an airplane is beyond stupid, but if the flight is particularly long, or particularly packed, he’s not above paying for business class for a little extra personal space for the two of you.

When he doesn’t do that, tho, he never picks your guys’ seats ahead of time, so sometimes you’ll be separated. Good thing he’s also not above lying at the check-in desk, “I’m in Zone 1, could my wife be seated next to me so that we can board together?”

They respond with an “of course,” and move your seats together, and Levi walks back with a content nod of appreciation. You are not married, and marriage sucks about as much as class separation on a 30 foot long plane, but it has its benefits.

Masks on, regardless. No debates. Pandemic or not, the mask stays on. Do not perceive him, keep the pressurized air sharing to a minimum.

Doesn’t wander much in the airport. There’s nothing in there that he hasn’t seen already, except for the marked up prices on touristy t-shirts.

And if you wander, he’ll usually just sit in the waiting area to watch your bags while you window shop and do your thing. If you’re gone for more than 30 mins, he might call, under the pretenses of, “Making sure you didn’t get lost. You know that Starbucks was near gate 41 to the left, not the right, right?” Like he’s a comedian or something 🙄

He does encourage you to get snacks before you board, tho. Airplane food is gross, and he would much rather pay for a $13 sandwich that you can snack on later, than for you to have to eat mush.

He’s got a little portable mug he takes with him for when he’s wants to buy a hot drink before getting on his flight. It’s cute.

Doesn’t fall asleep on the plane ever. No matter how long the flight is—at most, he’ll take a quick power nap somewhere in the middle if it’s over 9 hours, but other than that, he’s good to go.

Doesn’t mind if you fall asleep, and he always adjusts your neck pillow to make sure you don’t get cramps.

Jean

Travel champion. This man loves being in the airport even though he’s convinced it’s a time capsule, he fucking loves it.

King of “your airport fashion matters, babe.” Not necessarily wearing a whole three piece suit, but he does put in a little effort; it’s not just the first pair of sweats he has laying around.

Swears coffee tastes better in the airport. It does not. That does not stop him from buying it. He should learn to quit tho, especially for someone who hates airplane bathrooms as much as he does.

Charming with all the security personnel and desk assistants. You could be checking in for a flight at 4am, and Jean’s got people smiling and cheery for their shifts.

Bitches about the selection of movies on the flight, and learns to just download his own ahead of time. Gets really startled when he’s watching something and the flight attendants try to grab his attention for food or drinks—the very loud, classic, Jean Kirstein “HUH?”

On that note, he also gets startled by the loudspeaker announcements in the airport. He doesn’t know why he has to hear about American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun, when he is not on American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun.

Not opposed to paying extra for better airplane food or drinks on the plane if it’s the right time of day. He always finds something to toast to, plus he likes to treat you whenever and wherever he can.

Takes care of your overhead luggage and helps out the people around him if he sees they’re struggling. Gets shy when you call him a gentleman for it, and he rubs his neck, grumbling, “I was just helping the line move a little faster.”

Great timing, generous, will pick up your checked bags for you, and already rented a car a week in advance: 10/10 travel buddy.

Porco

He doesn’t like planes and there’s no solid reason why—nothing bad happened to him as a kid, and it’s not even that rare unfortunate incidents freak him out or anything—something flying just makes him a bit uneasy.

He won’t say it though, and he tries to keep it together when you’re checking in, but you can tell he’s anxious once you’re sitting and waiting for your flight to board.

He’ll ask to switch seats if you have the window seat, because somehow the feeling of being boxed in between the plane wall/window and another person makes it feel more like a car than a plane and he’s okay with that.

Going to the airport is one of the few times he hair won’t be styled, and falls in his face a bit. He usually throws on a beanie to cover it up, but you think he looks pretty cute either way.

Can’t usually fall asleep and he hates it because he just sits there thinking about the worst for the entire duration of the flight. But when you travel with him for the first time and coax him into taking a nap it’s so much better.

It’s about the only time he’ll let himself be publicly babied by you; but it makes everything so much easier that he doesn’t even mind.

So now, whenever you get on flights, he just puts his hood up, lays his head on your shoulder and waits for the magic to happen.

Bonus: you’re traveling with his friends, and Pieck and Marcel past to your seats, surprised to see Porco fast asleep on your shoulder. Pieck squeals, going on about how you must be a wizard to have gotten him to nap, to which Marcel just shakes his head, “Nah, he’s just really in love with her. Look at his face, that’s the calmest he’s been since he was five.”

Connie

Loves the airport. Not an ounce of organization in his soul though. By that I mean, yeah, he’s probably forgotten his passport at home, or forgotten that a full size bottle of body wash cannot go into his carry-on luggage.

Forgets to wear shoes that easy to take off and is fumbling over himself after the security check trying to lace them back up or put them back on.

Likes for you guys to have coordinating sweatsuits, and even though you don’t travel super often, Connie’s got at least 3 pairs of them lined up for you guys.

Sweet enough to drop plans or rearrange his schedule to travel with you if you were originally gonna be alone. He knows you can handle yourself, but he doesn’t want for you to travel alone if you don’t have to, especially if you’re going someplace far and/or for an extended period of time.

He always finds breakfast food to eat before he gets on his flight (if you two even have time to spare for food that is). It could be 9pm, but Connie’s asking for a breakfast wrap.

Hates waiting in the little pre-flight area. Claims it’s boring as hell and that’s why there’s no reason to get there 3 hours early 🙄🙄

He always spends at least 30 minutes browsing all the movie and TV show options available on-board, loudly exclaiming in excitement when they have something cool to watch—only to fucking fall asleep 10 minutes later. Right on top of you when he was oh-so-excited to watch Madagascar 2.

Always steals the aisle seat, even if it’s yours. It’s probably for the best though, because he has to get up to pee at least twice, no matter how short your flight is.

Makes some cheeky remark about you meeting him in the bathroom. He doesn’t mean it... unless he does. Unfortunately, you’ve never... successfully been able to do that out of fear of being caught by the flight attendants, but there have been a few quickies in the “family” (“It’s ethical, because technically we’re participating in the act of making a family, babe”) bathroom before you boarded. It’s his fault, not yours.

Armin

He really likes planes, and traveling in general. I think trains would be his favorite mode of transportation, but airplanes are good too.

I hate to say it but he claps when the plane lands. I will not elaborate or defend my stance on this.

Prefers the window seat because he likes to look out at the clouds as he’s in the sky.

He took his passport photo a little before he cut his hair, so the security personnel always hold it up and flicker between his ID photo and his current appearance a few times before stamping it. It makes him a little embarrassed because he can’t tell if they think he looks better or worse and sometimes he’s really fighting for his life convincing them that that’s him in the picture 😭

Listens to music rather than downloading a movie or watching a show, and always brings wire headphones to the airport so that it’s easier to share and listen with you.

If you fall asleep on him first, he’ll likely fall asleep on you shortly after. If he’s tired enough, he’ll fall asleep first, though he’s somewhat embarrassed and disappointed because he wanted to see the descent and skyline outside.

When he’s not asleep or window-watching, he’s somewhat fidgety out of excitement, rather than nervousness. He’s excited to be traveling and looks forward to wherever you’re going, even if it is just a weekend long work trip.

Hates traveling alone, though. It just feels particularly lonely to him to be going someplace foreign without company by his side. So, he’ll call you at every checkpoint and send you updates.

He only ever buys two things in duty free: shot glasses with the name of the city/country you’re traveling to, and whatever variety of button down short-sleeves are available to him.

Erwin

You knew this was coming, but this man is absolutely at the airport 18 hours before your flight takes off, and he’s driving like a manic getting there, like you don’t have all the time in the world.

Fascinated by anything and everything in duty free. Definitely spends more money than necessary on your return flight on the grounds that he was getting a good deal.

Exchanges money in the airport and keeps cash in his fanny pack. There’s no traveling without the fanny pack.

Plays crossword puzzles on his phone on the plane, and it’s just about one of the only games he has. That and Candy Crush—I get the feeling he’d be on level 500+ of that game and he always knocks out at least 10 levels on a flight.

Always a little surprised when he feels his your head on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and acts like he didn’t even notice, but there’s a telling little smile on his face.

Takes the most foul selfies of him and your sleeping self. In his defense, he had the best intentions; but that angle was flattering nobody. It’s too bad he’d already paid for the in-flight wifi and sent it to Hange because now you’ll never live them down.

You could probably get him to put on a (skincare) face mask during your flight. He forgets to take it off tho, and if you don’t tell him, he’d fully walk through customs with it on his face.

Accidentally gets drunk because he doesn’t understand that just because he can handle several glasses of whiskey in his favorite bar on a Friday night, does not mean it will translate on a plane.

[ssplague]

Chapter 0ne

“And so it begins”

Katsuki B. X Reader

Rated M

Warnings: Gaslighting, manipulation, power play, light degradation

The day before the two of you left for UA; Your best friend gave her word to your mother that she would always look after you. Now that the two of you are in your third year she’s officially FED UP with your attitude and childish antics. Mentioning her dilemma to your shared group of friends results in the most unlikely person offering to be her solution to the problem that is YOU.

A/N: The girl in the banner is NOT how the reader is “supposed” to look, it was just a drawing I did specifically for this. You look however you want to, I don’t really make any specific references to your appearance in this story.

🌅

Its Saturday morning; Ive been awake for about five minutes now, but I’m not ready to open my eyes and embrace the conscious world just yet. Hearing the door of my room unlock and open does the trick though. Only one person (other than myself of course) has a key to my dorm room.

“I made breakfast for the both of us, its your favorite” announces Euphie as she walks in, kicking the door shut behind her. I sit up, just as she’s pushing my black out curtains to the side I let out a hiss of disdain as sunlight immediately begins to permeate the room.

“Thank you Euphie” I say with a yawn.

She hands me a plate before settling down on my bed, acknowledging my thanks with a nod as we both tuck in.

“We have plans this afternoon, can you be ready by at least 12:30? No need to get super made up but at least out of your pajamas?” Euphies voice is gentle, but I catch the underlying “I’m not asking, but telling you” vibe she tries to hide.

“For sure”

She smiles at my seemingly agreeable mood so early in the morning and we easily segway into our standard start of the day discussions. “Are we um…Are we going to be busy all day? I….I kinda planned on going to hangout with-“ Euphie cuts me off as she picks up our plates: “No worries you’ll have plenty of time for that, I promise!” Giving me a wink before shutting my door.

She didn’t even know who I was referring to, or what I was going to say….

At 12:55 Euphie reappears to rush me out of my room.

“Hey I forgot my purse I-“

“Don’t need it”

“But my wallet is-“

“Not necessary”

Her tone is clipped, and she has a death grip on my wrist as she quite literally drags me down the hallway. Initially I was taken aback, not being used to receiving this type of treatment from her. My bearings have started returning along with growing frustration each time one of my questions are receiving one word answers, or met with a complete dismissal. Reaching my limit I fail to notice that she’d began to slow down, and I’m wrenching my wrist free of her grip at the exact same time she’d come to a stop.

“What in the fuck is your problem?! You told me that we had plans to go out this afternoon, and you’d treat me to whatever I want!

This-“ I’m interrupted again.

“I certainly wouldn’t do anything for a fuckin’ brat throwing a tantrum like this”

My eyes snap to the side where I see the irritated scowl of one Katsuki Bakugou, as he leans against his door frame glowering at me. Embarrassment further fuels my anger as I turn toward him, pointing an acusatory finger as I begin “No one fucking asked you, stay out of it Katsu-“.

Kirishima suddenly emerges from Bakugo’s room, giving Euphie an enthusastic greeting

“Hey there! You look nice, ready to head out?”. The red head is flashing his signature shark toothed grip at my best friend as he offers her his arm. “You know it” she giggles, taking hold of his muscular bicep. The two of them start to walk off, confused and furious I start to head after them, but a large hand grips my shoulder grounding me in place.

“Bakugo told me he wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on you while Kiri and I went out this afternoon, this way you’ll stay out of trouble and get to keep the plans you’d made with him, bye!” The closing elevator doors add a sudden finalization to her brief explanation.

“Plans?” Bakugo questions while uncermoniously yanking me backwards.

I stumble back, falling through the doorway and landing flat on my ass in front of the now closed door (Which he is standing in front of). Glaring up at him as he continues: “She must have me confused with the local brothel, because thats the only place I’d imagine wearing a skirt as short as that would be deemed appropriate”. His insult doesn’t deter his crimson eyes from roaming the length of my body, lingering on the aforementioned skirt. Getting to my feet, he walks around me and move towards his desk, taking a seat behind it.

“Oh fuck you Katsuki, you can be a real dick sometimes, I dunno what stupid Euphie told you about keeping and eye on me, but I dont need a fucking baby sitter! So ill be off now” with a huff you turn towards the door. “________, I’m not in the mood for bullshit today so just sit down and shut up” he growls, not turning to look at you. He always feels embarrassingly giddy when you adress him by his first name, thats why he insisted you call him by it. That in itself should be an indication of how he seems to favor you.

It makes him almost feel a bit guilty for using a harsh tone when he’d spoken to you. Despite how he treats others, Katsuki is hardly ever outright mean to you; He’s never even given you a derogatory nickname like he has for everyone else. Today’s an off day though…He’s just not used to running on little to no sleep. That paired with his already non existent level of patience makes for a blow up. Especially when YOU were the cause of his latest bout of insomnia….turning to look at you has his thoughts beginning to wander.

Those lips of yours flapping away as you berate him…

They sure would look a helluva lot better wrapped around his-

“-Not even fucking listening to me are you?!” You snarl, starting towards the door again. “I cant believe I woke up this morning wanting to hangout with YOU, guess I’ll change my plans and hangout with someone not so shitty to me��. Like Deku!” A loud crash comes from behind you. The now enraged man had stood up so abruptly, it sent his now vacated chair careening into the wall and toppling over.

“You really just cant help yourself can you?”

His voice is so eerily quiet as he turns to face you, something unidentifiable flashes in his rapidly darkening crimson orbs. You couldn’t exactly identify it, considering it disappeared as abruptly as it had originally came.

“Course you cant, I already know that”

A menacing smile appears on his face as he takes his first step toward you, immediately triggering your natural “Fight or flight” response.

“I know what you need”

He’s only an arms length away when you start to step back.

“You dont know shit”

You somehow summon the courage to speak, but are unable to summon any false bravado to keep you from betraying how unnerved he’s got you feeling as he takes another step.

“I know that your best friend cant stand what a spoiled fuckin’ brat you’ve become, I know she’s so fed up with your shit that she’s about to write you off completely”

The defiant expression you’d worn all this time finally starts to falter.

This marks the first time Katsuki has ever seen how you look when your confidence begins to ebb away, only to be replaced with a mixture of uncertainty and fear.

His sadistic side emerges with glee as your now saddened doe eyes meet his.

“You’re constantly disregarding everyone’s opinion of you unless it aligns with your own, but you dont even know what to think of yourself now that your faced with the possibility of being alone now…do you?

You remain silent, taking yet another step back as he continues speaking.

“You need someone who isn’t afraid to correct you, but they’ll have to of earned your respect….So when you inevitably step out of line, you wont put up a fight when you get put over their knee”

Your back hits the wall.

You swallow down the panic that slowly begun to rise from your chest up into your throat as you realize there is nowhere left for you to go.

“You desperately want to be a good girl, just dont know how to be one, huh princess?”

It’s so adorable the way your bottom lip juts out, but at the first quiver it quickly gets sucked between your teeth.

“That’s why you’re acting out right now isn’t it?

I bet you drench your cute little panties every time you get a rise out of me. Always hoping that its going to be the time I yank you the fuck up and put this brat in her goddamn place, hah?”

You shamelessly lean into the large hand thats now cupping your cheek, letting out a sigh as his thumb caresses your soft skin.

“Mhmmm”

It’s horrifying how easily you just admitted your most guarded secret! The triumphant smirk he sports makes it even harder to accept.

His tone is surprisingly gentle when he starts addressing you once again;

“I can do that for you baby….Let me be the one that finally brings the princess down on her knees”.

Your eyes are practically sparkling at the feel of a sudden pressure being applied to your throat. His calloused fingers squeezing the delicate skin of your neck, effectively making it harder and harder for you to breathe. The thrill of this foreign feeling is instantly addicting.

“Tell me if thats what you want: If its not then shake your head and we never speak of this again”

Bakugo has to at least give the illusion that you have a choice in the matter. Even though its more than obvious that you need want this just as much as he does.

“I want it, I want you” your words come out in a breathy whisper as he releases his hold on your throat.

“I wanna hear you say it princess, what do you want me to do with you”

“I want…no I NEED you to….t-to make me into your good girl please…”

He gestures for you to continue, his raised brow implying you must be forgetting something.

“Please make me into your good girl….Daddy”

The pleading expression and twinge of desperation in your voice stirs something deep inside Bakugo. It was something akin to the last vestiges of some ancient seal had disappeared: The monster that it had rendered dormant had finally roused from its slumber, intent on wreaking havoc.

“You do understand that you’re mine now right ________? Every part of your being belongs solely to me”

Gorgeous ruby eyes scrutinize your face carefully, searching for a single trace of fear, uncertainty, or possible apprehension. All they found was admiration and girlish excitement, and this earned you a genuine smile from the almost always scowling young man.

“Yes, every part of me belongs to you now Katsuki”

“Better get used to this then”

Before you could inquire what he was referring to, he was kissing you.

❤️‍🔥

A/N: So concludes chapter one

Oh god I hope this is well received.

Should I get a tag list together? Is it too soon? If anyone would be interested leave a comment. SMUT in the next chapter, we’re moving faster here because let’s be honest; Smut is what all of us want! 💦

[tripleaxeldiaz]

maybe one day i’ll fly next to you

chapter 5/8

read on ao3

start from the beginning

The Final is a big deal. Even more so this year since it’s the last international competition before the Olympics — the last chance to show the world that you’re worthy of their attention come February. Buck’s been to five of the last eight Finals, and usually all the extra attention from press and fans, even during non-Olympic seasons, make him giddy with excitement, adrenaline pumping through him for almost a solid week before he actually competes.

This time, however, it’s been a week of feeling like he’s going to throw up any second.

It’s not because he’s doing bad at practices — in fact, he’s feeling better than ever, even got to work out his shaky landing on his quad flip that’s been haunting him for weeks. Ice looks the same no matter where you are, so it’s easy for him to get lost in the two hours he’s out there and forget everything and everyone else around him while he works.

When he steps off the ice, though, he’s thrust right back into a world where everyone is keeping an eye on him, watching him to see if he’ll live up to the expectations of being one of the best US skaters a top Olympic hopeful, or if he’ll crumble under the pressure of trying to be the best but always falling a little bit short, especially since the last Games. He’s always viewed it as a redemption — overcoming his injury and clawing his way back to the top — but he can’t control how outsiders view it, has no idea if they feel the same way or have counted him out all together. ESPN can do as many pieces on him as they want, but they can’t guarantee that people are still rooting for him. He’s sure people are talking about him, but he’s steered clear of social media knowing that even if there are nice things about him floating around, it’ll still make him feel worse, crushed by more and more expectations that he’s still not sure he’s going to live up to.

He misses when all that attention would make him feel like he was invincible. 

The biggest thing keeping him sane — despite the 6,000 miles between LA and Turin — is Eddie. They’d seen each other plenty before Buck left, Eddie still coming to the rink every day for PT and light workouts so he could stay in shape while he recovered. It was good, it was normal, even if Eddie wasn’t skating. 

But the night before his flight to Italy, the prospect of being at one of the most important competitions of the season, of his life, without most of his other teammates had hit him hard once again, sucking all the air out of his lungs and making the room spin. 

He called Eddie without even thinking and barely heard him say “Hello?” before he was spilling everything, letting out all the fears and worries he had been trying to keep under control since Bobby told him he was going to the Final. Despite being caught very off guard at 12:30 in the morning, Eddie had listened to it all — really listened, Buck could tell even over the phone. He sympathized with his fears and doubts and didn’t try to downplay them with empty platitudes. And somehow, in those frantic moments, to be heard like that was enough. Enough for the worries in Buck’s head to quiet down and retreat back into the shadows, enough for him to finally be able to breathe. They kept talking afterwards, the smooth timbre of Eddie’s voice making his eyes feel heavier and heavier, until they close and open again to sunlight filtering into his room, his phone on the pillow next to him with a disconnected call and a text that says You’re going to be amazing. Call me whenever you need me.

Buck didn’t think he’d take Eddie up on that, but he’s called him every day since he arrived and every time, no matter what time it is, Eddie picks up and listens to him.

On the last day of practice before short programs, dread settles heavy in Buck’s stomach and doesn’t get any lighter as the day wears on. He skates at the practice rink until his fingers feel numb with cold, and works out after even longer, blasting music in his headphones so he’s not alone with his thoughts for too long. He’s exhausted when he gets back to his room, the quiet that’s become so unfamiliar mixing with the dread and weighing down Buck’s entire body, feeling like it’s trying to push him straight down into the earth. Sinking onto the bed, he dials Eddie’s number.

Five rings, and no answer. He tries again. Nothing.

He tosses his phone to the side and sighs. The dread had lightened ever so slightly at the mere prospect of getting to talk to Eddie, but now it’s back in full force. If he lays here for too long, he’s worried he might melt right into the bedspread.

There’s a knock at the door, and takes every ounce of mental and physical strength he has to get him up. He has a brief, delusional thought that maybe the person on the other side of the door is the same one who didn’t answer his phone, but it’s quickly squashed when there’s another knock, followed by a voice that’s definitely not Eddie’s.

“Buck? I know you’re in there, and I can get my hands on a master key if you don’t let me in right now.”

Hen. 

He opens the door quickly, because he thinks she’s bluffing, but there’s also a very real chance that she’s not. He stands at his full height, pushing back against the dread, and plasters on a smile. “Don’t tell me you have notes 12 hours before the competition starts?”

She looks him up and down, looks through him it seems, judging by the way he suddenly wants to curl in on himself, hide whatever it is she’s looking for. She finds it, he guesses, because she nods decisively and pushes into his room. She grabs his still packed skating bag from the foot of the bed and tosses him his jacket as she goes back into the hallway.

“Come on,” she calls over her shoulder. “We’re going for a drive.”

It takes a minute for Buck’s brain to catch up with everything, but when it does, he hustles to meet her at the elevators. They make their way to the parking lot next to the hotel, where Hen unlocks the Fiat Bobby had rented for the week to get them around. “Bobby’s cool with you taking the car?”

She shrugs. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt me.”

“So I’m basically being kidnapped right now.”

“You would’ve stayed in your room if you really didn’t want to come.”

He smiles a real smile at that — she knows him too well.

Turin is beautiful at night. The city bustles with energy as people mill around, window shopping and filling up tables outside of cafes despite the early December chill. Christmas decorations have already been hung in windows and strung over rooftops, thousands of lights washing the streets in twinkling colors. Buck lets his eyes relax as he stares out the window, losing himself in the colors that pass by, hoping they’ll burn the heaviness right out of him. They stop outside the Palavela, standing out in its shadowy height among the brightness, decked out in ISU flags in anticipation for the start of competition tomorrow. Hen turns off the car and gets out, walking into the shadows of the arena and almost disappearing before Buck catches up. They make their way to the service entrance at the back of the building, where Hen pulls a key out of her coat pocket and unlocks the door.

Buck’s jaw drops. “I believed you about the hotel, but how did you get a key to this place?”

“A lot of people owe me a lot of favors,” she says, leading the way through the back hallways. 

It occurs to Buck that he doesn’t even know why they’re here, didn’t bother to ask, but regardless, he follows her deeper into the belly of the building. Hallways twist and turn as they follow them seemingly at random, until they finally make it to a set of double doors. Hen pushes them open, and Buck has a moment of panic when he sees what’s on the other side.

“Isn’t it bad luck to see the main rink the day before a competition?”

Hen rolls her eyes and walks inside. “You’re not getting married, Buck. And we’re not just here for the ice.” She keeps moving, up into the stands and further up the stairs to the mid-level walkway. It’s a former Olympic venue, so there’s thousands and thousands of seats, and the reminder that in a few short hours, they’ll be filled with people waiting to see Buck thrive or fail spectacularly weighs him down even more, coming down on his shoulders and threatening to make him stumble. He does stumble when he runs into Hen, who’s stopped dead center of the walkway, eyes warm and bright as she nods towards the other side of the rink.

Tears swim into his vision, but not because of shot nerves or worry this time (though those may be contributing to how quickly this is making him emotional).

Fans bring posters to events all the time — beautiful, handmade posters emblazoned with flags and encouraging quotes, showing their love for their favorite skaters and teams. They’re made of cardboard or printed on fabric, but are usually small, hard to see unless you’re watching on TV or very close to the boards. Sometimes, though — with special permission from the venue, usually — they go big, creating huge tarps that get hung up on the banisters surrounding the seats and stay there all week, loudly cheering for their favorites even when they may not be in the stands.

Which is exactly what Buck comes face to face with — two banners hung across part of the middle banister, covering at least 15 seats. One has a picture of him from Autumn Classic, smiling with his gold medal, with “Go Buck Go!” in big block letters over his head, all on a deep red background and surrounded by golden fireworks. The other — the one that really takes his breath away — is a collage of pictures from his programs over the years, some of his more memorable spins and poses emblazoned across the dark blue fabric. His final pose from his short this season, reaching toward the crowd and looking off into the distance, is featured most prominently, with an ornate script next to it that reads “Evan Buckley: Future Olympic Champion”.

He grips the railing a little tighter to keep himself steady, feels Hen’s hand rubbing up and down his back.

“How—” he starts, voice a little raw.

“Bobby and I saw them when we came by earlier to get our credentials. We think someone hung them up after the short dance today so they’d be ready for tomorrow.”

“Wow,” is all Buck can manage. He’s seen his face on plenty of posters, but never like this, never something that he could see from anywhere in the arena, loudly proclaiming that there are fans in his corner, people beyond himself and his sister that see him at the top of the Olympic podium. He knows they're out there, rationally, when he’s not riddled with nerves and self doubt, but still. It’s nice to be reminded. And what a reminder this is.

“I know it’s been a rough week for you,” Hen says quietly, hand still on his back. “But just...take this in. Let it push you through the next few months. They’re rooting for you, Buck. We all are. You’ve got to keep rooting for yourself too.”

As usual, she’s right — Buck went into this season as his own biggest fan, with one goal in mind that felt like it had been slipping farther and farther away with every fall and every less than perfect score. That drive to win gold becoming more and more desperate as the weeks wore on — like if he didn’t get back to where he should be, where he needed to be, he might not survive. But he has people — his team, his family, and fans like this — who are still envisioning that success for him, who believe in him no matter what. Who will still be in his corner even if he doesn’t make it to the top. Who he wants to prove right for believing in him.

Hen pats his back one last time and heads back down the stairs. Buck lingers a little longer, taking in every detail of the banners that he can, since he won’t be able to appreciate them properly tomorrow. He sneaks a few pictures on his phone, quickly shooting them off to Maddie and Eddie. It doesn’t feel like bragging — they’re at the very top of the list of people that have constantly pulled him up when he falls down the hardest. He knows they’ll appreciate this for him, just like Hen did. They’ll understand how much this means to him.

As he follows Hen’s path down the stairs, the heaviness he had convinced himself was etched into his bones feels like it stays behind, making it easier to breathe, easier to be.

Hen’s next to the boards holding his skates out to him. “You’ve got like 30 minutes — skate it out. I’ll stand watch by the door.” He takes them and sets them on the bench before enveloping her in a hug, rocking back and forth as she laughs into his shoulder. She ruffles his hair and pats his cheek before going to her post.

He feels at peace on the ice, finally. The cold isn’t harsh, it’s invigorating. The fluorescent lights aren’t too bright, they’re comforting, lighting up the grooves and divots of the ice, showing all the paths Buck can follow. A couple of laps gets his blood pumping, roaring in his ears and blocking out everything else. He starts with some easy steps — rockers and three turns, over and over like he did in skating lessons when he was a kid, losing himself in the repetition. When he feels good, really good, he goes for a quad flip, confidence flowing into every stroke as he gets in position. He takes off, and he feels light again — right again — like he’s flying, not falling, not sinking.

Figuratively and literally rising.

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s two missed calls from Eddie when he gets back to his room, and still riding the high of his good mood, he FaceTimes him. 

“Wow, I really missed that smile,” Eddie says when the call connects, and Buck rolls his eyes, not even bothering to hide the blush he can feel warm his cheeks. Eddie must have just gotten back from PT — his hair is falling in swoops over his forehead, damp with sweat, his tank top sticking to what little Buck can see of his chest. His blush gets a couple of shades darker, he’s sure, as he tries not to let his eyes linger anywhere for too long.

Buck flops onto the bed on his back, holding his phone in front of his face. “I had a pretty good night,” he says with feigned nonchalance.

“Seeing banners of your giant face already proclaiming you the next gold medalist will do that to you.” Buck laughs and Eddie laughs with him, the sound like pure happiness, burning out the very last of the dread that had been following him since he arrived. It stops quickly when Eddie sits down on his couch and hisses, wincing as he shuffles to get comfortable. 

“Rough day with Lena?” He saw her every day for two months straight once upon a time, he knows how hard she can push.

“Rough couple of days.”

“Are you feeling better, at least? Do the doctors think it’s healing okay?”

“I have a check-up tomorrow, but it’s fine. Just sore.” He finally settles but he still looks like he’s in pain. Buck wants to press, wants to know every detail of his last few days — what exercises he’s done, when the pain really got worse, if he’s resting enough. But this isn’t his injury, and everyone heals differently. And he trusts Eddie, trusts him to know how to take care of himself like he promised he would.

“Anyway,” Eddie says lightly, clearly trying to change the subject. Buck lets him. “I’m sure this good night will make for a good day tomorrow, too. You feel ready?”

“I do,” Buck answers. He’s pleasantly surprised to find that he actually means it. 

“Good. I know you’ll be great. And you’ll have my sleep deprived text commentary to look forward to when you finish.”

Buck winces. “I’m not gonna be skating until like 4AM your time, you really don’t—”

“I really do. I really want to. And there’s not a whole lot you can do to stop me.” Eddie flashes his crowd-charming smile and Buck feels like he’s melting into the mattress again. He tries for a snappy comeback, anything to keep Eddie talking, but he cuts himself off with a yawn, the exhaustion from the week seeming to catch up with him all at once.

Eddie’s smile gets a little softer. “Go to sleep, Buck. I’m gonna take a nap too so I make sure I wake up on time.”

“Okay, okay. Goodnight Eds.”

“Goodnight. Knock ‘em dead tomorrow.”

After they hang up, Buck gives himself a minute, just a minute, to really bask in that, in Eddie’s active support of him from halfway across the world. It’s one thing to have your teammates watch your programs from the stands, but to find competitions on TV, if they’re being shown at all? To figure out time zones and wake up at ungodly hours just to watch you skate live? It may not seem like much, but it’s everything to Buck. He’s only gotten this kind of commitment from one other person in his life — even his parents stopped keeping up once he started competing abroad more. And it’s different with Maddie — they’ve been on this road together for almost two decades, so intertwined with each other’s successes and failures that they’re hard to differentiate sometimes. Sure, Eddie’s been a part of his life for years now too, but as competition, an obstacle he kept trying and failing to overcome. It’s different now that they’re...whatever they are. Friends. Almost something else. 

For the second time tonight, Buck’s reminded of how grateful he is to have another solid, supportive presence in his corner. The last lingering bits of heaviness and loneliness evaporate from within him, and he knows this weekend will be good for him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Second place.

Second place is fine. Second place is great, actually. Second place is enough to show the USFSA that he’s still a contender, that he can still keep up with the best of the best despite a rocky first half of the season.

But second place is not first place. Even if it’s only six points away.

Overall, Buck is happy with his performance. He was clean on his step sequences, attacked every jump, and didn’t fall once. And six points behind the skater from Japan that everyone considers Eddie’s biggest international rival, his biggest threat against his potential Olympic gold, would make most other people ecstatic.

He’s not most other people, though. This past week has reignited the fire in his belly and it’s burning brighter than it has in a while. The medal ceremony, the interviews, the gala, everything flashes by because all he can think about is getting back to work, changing transitions and tweaking spins until even the smallest gap between him and any other skater is erased. Until he knows his programs are undoubtedly gold medal worthy.

It’s refreshing — a relief — to be back in this headspace, being pushed forward by obstacles and less-than-perfection instead of dragged into spiraling sadness.

He almost loses it a couple of times, especially when he decides to take an innocent peek at Twitter to see what fans had to say about the Final, the words “overscored” and “inconsistent” swimming in front of him until they don’t mean anything anymore, just leave doubt lingering, trying to find the home in Buck’s brain that it had just vacated. In those moments, he goes back to his messages and rereads the live texts he’d gotten all weekend, and one in particular that makes his heart skip two beats every time he sees it: 

[from: Eddie] I think you make everyone fall a little bit in love with you every time you skate

Eddie sent it in the middle of his free skate, in the middle of dozens of other compliments and criticism of other skaters, and Buck’s sure he was half awake when he sent it, but it fills him with something he doesn’t quite have a name for. Something that makes all of the harsh words and doubts disappear, because none of those matter when Eddie is here telling him that he’s good, that he deserves all of his scores and praises. That he’s loved, no matter how often he may forget.

Another fire is burning in him, a little above the one in his gut, but it’s pushing him just as hard to prove his worth. 

~~~~~~~~~

There’s four weeks left until Nationals, and Eddie still isn’t better. 

Buck can tell he’s getting frustrated too — the tension in his shoulders gets tighter and tighter, the set of his mouth harder and harder each day he comes to the rink still wearing his air cast, only able to work in the gym and with Lena, far away from the ice and the excited chatter of preparing for the second half of the season. Buck tries to be there, a shoulder to lean on, someone to listen, but he also knows how Eddie operates — he’ll slap on a smile and say he’s fine until he’s really not, until he cracks from the inside out and finally explodes with everything he’s been holding in so he keeps up this air of perfection he’s made for himself. Buck used to think it was annoying, that perfect facade, but now he knows it’s more defensive than anything, Eddie just trying to protect himself from the world and maybe from himself.

Buck doesn’t take it personally anymore, and he’s going to do his damned best to be there to keep the cracks from spreading.

It’s after 10pm when he walks into the gym, still breathing heavily from practice, his muscles burning from overuse and the need to be stretched. He was certain he was alone, so he just about jumps out of his skin when he sees someone lying on the padded floor in front of the mirrors. When he gets closer, his blood runs cold for an entirely different reason.

It’s Eddie.

Buck’s first thought is to call for an ambulance, because why else would Eddie be lying on the floor if he hadn’t hurt himself again? But as he gets closer still, Buck thinks this might be intentional. He’s on his back, headphones on, eyes closed, rhythmically tapping his hands to whatever song he’s listening to on his stomach. As Buck's shadow passes over his face, he opens his eyes and blinks at him for a minute before giving a half-hearted smile and closing his eyes again. He looks sadder, somehow, than he has in the past weeks, dark circles under his eyes and none of the golden glow that seems to follow him wherever he goes (though that may be coming just from Buck’s own imagination anyway).

Buck’s not really sure what to do here, how to fix whatever it is that’s making Eddie feel so bad.

So he lays down right next to him and waits.

The headphones come off after 10 minutes, and Eddie doesn’t open his eyes for another five. When he does, he looks over to Buck, and rather than something supportive or sweet or literally anything else, he says the first dumb thing that comes to his head:

“Are we meditating?”

But he gets an actual smile out of it from Eddie, so he takes it as a win. 

Eddie scrubs his hands over his face. “Trying to, I think.” He turns onto his side, facing Buck, and Buck turns to mirror him. He can tell Eddie is searching for his words, the right phrasing to get his point across, and he’s willing to wait as long as he needs to for Eddie to share. 

Finally, he takes a long, steadying breath. “My doctor said I might not be able to skate until the end of January, which means I might miss Nats, which means I might not—” he gestures vaguely at that, like he expects Buck to know what his silence means. Buck knows exactly what he means, and it makes him ache for Eddie, makes him reach out and squeeze his wrist when his eyes start to shine, thumb tracing over his pulse point trying to soothe him. “I’ve worked my ass off for weeks now to get better, and it still might not be good enough.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck says quietly. “I know it sucks. More than anything.”

Eddie goes quiet again, eyes drifting to where Buck is still holding his wrist. He pulls away for just a second before slotting their fingers together properly and gently squeezing. Like always, Buck marvels at how right it feels, to be holding Eddie’s hand.

“Did you know they’ve been saying I’m the favorite to win gold for three years now? Not to brag, but—” he says quickly, eyes wide. Buck chuckles because he knows — knows now — that Eddie doesn’t have an arrogant bone in his body. He squeezes his hand back and waits for him to keep going. “It’s all I can think about. Every time I fuck up a level or finish off podium, it just stays with me, makes me feel like I’m about to crash and burn and everyone is going to be disappointed in me because I’m not actually as good as they think.” Eddie’s trembling, squeezing his hand tighter to try and stop it. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I tricked everyone into believing in me, and this stupid busted ankle is—”

“Hey, hey, no,” Buck says, pulling them up to sitting and cupping Eddie’s face in his hands as his tears threaten to spill over, slipping through the cracks. “You don’t deserve this, Eddie, no one deserves to be injured. Believe me, I know what it’s like to put all of your worth into this, and I still do it, but...you’re worth so much more than just your skating. To the fans, to the team. To me.” Eddie’s eyes drift away from his, trying to find an escape, but Buck holds firm until they drift back. “You are good. Not just a good skater, but a good person. You’ll always have that, gold medals or not. And if no one else believes in you, I do.”

Eddie stares at him, looking dumbstruck, and he’s quiet for so long that Buck worries he went too far, bared himself a little too much. He’s about to backtrack, save both of them whatever awkwardness might come, but Eddie surges forward before he can and kisses him so fiercely he swears the earth stands still.

He pushes away just as quickly, eyes wide in panic. “Shit, Buck, I’m sorry, I know we—” but Buck cuts him off, kissing him slow and deep, hands tangling into Eddie’s hair trying to pull him as close as possible. Eddie’s everywhere, his taste, his smell, his touch, and when he feels Eddie’s smile against his mouth, a smile that he put there, he feels like flying.

It finally clicks for Buck that he doesn’t have to — doesn’t want to — compartmentalize his life so much anymore. Skating and Eddie make him happier than pretty much anything. Why shouldn’t he have both?

They break apart slowly and rest their foreheads together. Buck ended up in Eddie’s lap at some point, and from here he can’t see anything but Eddie, gets lost in the curve of his cheekbones and the pout of his lips, and mentally smacks himself for thinking it was really better not having all of this. Eddie is in his corner, always, and he wants to be in Eddie’s too. Wants him to know he’s there, to remember even at his lowest points that he’s not alone, ever.

Eddie finally opens his eyes and smiles at Buck, soft but absolutely breathtaking. He squeezes his arms a little tighter around Buck’s waist, and Buck is more than happy to get as close as he can, would crawl into Eddie’s chest and stay there forever if he could.

“What are you thinking?” Eddie asks quietly.

Buck’s thinking a lot of things, or at least he was, but now that he’s focused on honey brown eyes so full of affection he could drown in them, his only real thought is Eddie Eddie Eddie.

“I think we’re stupid,” he says after a minute, and Eddie’s laugh echos around the empty gym.

“We’re stupid?”

“Okay, I’m stupid. But I think I want to fix that.”

“Oh really?”

“I think I want to be here for you, for everything.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I think I want to remind you how amazing you are whenever I can.”

“Buck—”

“I think I want to convince you of how incredible you are whenever you stop believing it.”

Eddie’s eyes are shining again, but his smile could also put the sun to shame.

“And I think I really, really want to keep kissing you.”

Eddie shakes his head, smile getting bigger and somehow pulling Buck even closer. “I think we can make that happen,” he whispers. 

He kisses him again, and Buck is soaring.

[let-me-write-shit]

Like We Used To: 14

A/N: Next Chapter starts the interviews! If there’s any questions you might want to be asked, or if there’s something you’d like me to incorporate in any of the future chapters, let me know! I love hearing from you! 

I’m gonna try to put up the next chapter later tonight, so make it quick!! :) :) 

PLEASE don’t forget to like/reblog/message me if you like it. It’s suuuuper helpful

[CLICK HERE FOR PREVIOUS CHAPTERS]

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” Elizabeth shifted in the passenger seat of Harry’s car, staring out at the streets of London.

It was nearly 10 AM and the two were on their way to the airport to travel to LA for a week for some promotional interviews for Harry’s upcoming performance in New York next month before a new album is released. Somehow Harry and Judy managed to gang up on Elizabeth. He even got Kate to call her in the middle of her honeymoon to convince Elizabeth to go. So Thursday and Friday were spent finishing up as much work as she could get done, visiting the office to tie up any loose ends and let her staff know that she would be out of town for a bit, and spending her free time relaxing with Harry.

Harry seemed to be spending his free time either watching movies, writing emails, on phone calls, or, what Elizabeth assumed, writing new songs. By the end of the week it was pretty much tradition to end the day sharing a sleeve of oreos and going on a late night walk around town. Luckily her neighborhood wasn’t too busy so no one was hardly ever outside to notice them. At least there was no buzz in the tabloids on Harry’s whereabouts since his appearance at the club the previous weekend.

“Well, with the help of Judy I can be pretty persuasive,” Harry grinned at her, turning into a gated lot. A small plane was parked in the middle of a huge runway with a couple people standing around the bottom of the stairs and a few other cars parked around it. Harry must have noticed Elizabeth’s uneasiness as he parked the car because he squeezed her hand and whispered, “Don’t be nervous, it’ll be fine. I already warned my manager that you’d be tagging along and the band is excited to meet you.”

Elizabeth nodded and the two of them stepped out of the car, letting the wind whip her hair around, clutching onto her purse and laptop bag that hung around her shoulder. Harry walked beside her, his hand on the small of her back, leading her over towards two men and one woman, handing his car keys to one of the men. They all greeted Harry with high-fives and hugs before smiling at Elizabeth.

Harry started the introductions, “Elizabeth this is Jeffrey, my manager,” he introduced the man he gave his keys to and continued, “Lisa does videography and photography whenever we travel, and Kenneth is my bodyguard. We keep him around whenever we travel for work, but usually he’ll only be with us when we’re at interviews and such.”

“Very nice to meet you,” Lisa smiled sweetly, shaking Elizabeth’s hand and earning a nod from Kenneth.

“So you’re Harry’s old school friend, are you?” Jeffrey asked, and joked, “I heard he practically bullied you into coming?”

Elizabeth let out a small chuckle, “Yeah, he just keeps nagging you until you say yes!”

“I know the feeling,” Jeffrey nodded as they all laughed, “Handsome boy, but dead annoying. Don’t worry, we’ll keep you company whenever Harry’s preoccupied. I bet we’re more fun than him anyways.”

“Excuse me, I take offence to that,” Harry jested.

“As you should,” Jeffrey said before looking between the both of them, “So you’ve both got your passports with ya, then? Great. Go on up, then. Everyone’s in there waiting.”

Harry nodded and led Elizabeth towards the steps of the private airplane, almost reaching for her hand before she lightly pushed it away, unsure of what them holding hands might look like. He didn’t seem too phased by that and continued on up. Harmonious shouting occurred as the two walked further onto the plane. Harry gestured for her to sit in the window seat while introducing her to his backing band members Mitch, Sarah, Adam, Ny, and Charlotte. Elicabeth’s worry of what Harry’s friends’ and crew would think of her started to disappear as they got to talking. 

An airport worker came to load the bags from Harry’s trunk to the airplane before taking his car away and within thirty minutes they were ready for takeoff. Airplane safety instructions were given and as soon as they were in the air Jeffrey gave everyone the rundown. It would be an eleven and a half hour flight. They would arrive in LA at nearly 3 PM their time. Immediately from landing they would head straight to hotel check-in where they got free reign for the rest of the night, though they were given ‘strong suggestions’ to make it an early night as they had to be up by 6 AM to head to their first performance at a news station. The performance wouldn’t be until 8 AM, but they needed to get their equipment set up and rehearse.

“So, wait, did they get me my own hotel room, or….?” Elizabeth whispered to Harry, not wanting the others to hear.

He whispered back, “No, I have a house in LA, so you’ll be coming with me there. Everyone else has a hotel room. Except Sarah and Mitch share a room. They’re dating.”

Elizabeth nodded, understandingly, before Adam spoke, smiling, “So, Harry didn’t tell us much. Just that you two were friends since you were fourteen? Is that right?”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth confirmed, “Knew him before all of this….” she looked around at the airplane.

“Wow,” Adam nodded, “And was he a little shit back then, too?”

“Excuse me,” Harry interrupted, “Little shit? Watch your tone, sir. I’m a big shit. A big, masculine shit, thank you very much.”

They all continued to banter for a bit, making Elizabeth relax. They were all given lunch, but it didn’t take long before everyone started doing their own thing. Sarah and Mitch cuddled up and watched a movie, Adam and Ny started scrolling through their phones, Harry was talking with Jeffrey, and Charlotte fell asleep. Elizabeth used the time to get even more work done so that she could be completely free tomorrow. By 7 hours into the flight everyone seemed to take Charlotte’s lead and went to bed. 

It felt like seconds before Elizabeth was being shaken awake. She fluttered her eyes open, immediately looking out the window to notice their descent before looking over at Harry who was grinning at her. His hair was disheveled and a red mark was bright on his cheek from where he fell asleep on his wrist, clearly haven been just woken up.

“We’re getting ready to land,” his groggy voice drawled.

Elizabeth looked around to see most everyone else stirring awake and Mitch glancing between Harry and outside. He didn’t speak much, but when he did he was really sweet and very funny. She looked around sheepishly, unsure of what to do when they exited the plane as everyone was kind of unloading their things and going over details on when and where they would be meeting in the morning. Eventually an SUV pulled up and a man got out, waiting patiently. Jeffrey directed him to Harry and Elizabeth’s luggage and he began loading up the car.

Harry broke away from the group who all shouted a “see you later” at him and Elizabeth before the two of them slid into the SUV.

“You alright?” Harry asked her.

Elizabeth smiled coyly, “Yeah they’re all nicer than I thought they’d be. Was just a bit overwhelmed. I think I’m still coming to terms with the fact that I even came. And it’s so hot here, what the hell? It’s October in a few days' time!”

The car started off and Harry laughed, “We’re not in England anymore, that’s for sure. You get used to it, though,” he reassured before asking, “So I was just talking with Mitch about him and Sarah coming over tonight to chill out with us if that’s okay?”

Elizabeth shrugged, “Yeah, sure, why not? It’s not my house.”

“What do you say we grab some dinner first? It’s only 3:30, but I was thinking once we get back to my place we could get our stuff settled and then go out and grab something to eat?”

“Will people not notice you eating out with a random girl?”

“I’m not too worried about it, honestly,” Harry smiled, “What, do you not want to be seen with me?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to be seen with you. It’s just...we’re still trying to figure this whole thing out and I don’t want it to then be made into a big deal for you.”

Harry smiled, “I’ll be fine, love. It’s just dinner.”

Her heart fluttered a bit. When they got to Harry’s house, Elizabeth looked around in awe. It was, for all intents and purposes, a mansion. Sleek and modern, it had four bedrooms and six bathrooms. Who needs six bathrooms?! It even had a heated outdoor pool and hot tub. There wasn’t much in the way of decoration, but she figured it’s probably because he’s just a guy and he spends more time in England, anyway. 

She followed Harry with her luggage up to Harry’s room and dropped them in the corner. He decided to take a quick shower while she got situated, touching up her makeup and unloading some of her clothes. She had been in the middle of a text to Matt when Harry walked out of the bathroom. A towel was wrapped around his waist, his water glistened on his skin and his hair looked like a wet mop.

“You can’t just come in here lookin like that,” she motioned vaguely at him, sitting up on his bed.

“It’s my bedroom!” he retorted, ruffling his hair, “Am I making you nervous?”

Elizabeth groaned, “Don’t do this to me. I’m starving! I can’t think straight on an empty stomach.”

He laughed, dropping his towel, exposing himself, before pulling on a pair of briefs, “You know, I’m starting to think you’re just using me for my body.”

“I definitely am just using you for your body!” Elizabeth joked, “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“None at all.”

It was 5:30 by the time they were ready to get dinner. There was a chinese food place not too far from his house that they decided they wanted to eat at. It wasn’t too fancy, so Elizabeth didn’t bother changing her clothes before heading over there. Parking was horrendous in LA, so they had to park a block away, but luckily the restaurant wasn’t too crazy for a Saturday night. He informed her that most people in LA either postmated their food, or ate later in the evening. 

The staff did recognize him, so they were able to get a seat at a booth towards the back. Dinner was fantastic. They were able to sneak a few quick hand-holds in before finishing up. On the way to the car they heard a few people shout Harry’s name at a distance, but he didn’t seem to pay any mind to it as he took her hand and led her to the car. While driving out of the lot, though, she noticed a man with a camera on the corner snapping a few pictures of his car.

“Harry?” she questioned, slightly concerned.

“Yeah, I see him,” he acknowledged, biting his cheek.

She decided to drop it and they continued back to Harry’s house. 

Mitch and Sarah had arrived a little after 8 PM after the sun had set. The four of them took some wine and a pack of oreos to Harry’s seating area beside the pool in the back, Mitch and Sarah on a couch across from Elizabeth and Harry, and got to know Elizabeth some more while music played softly over his house speakers. They had asked about the friendship with Harry when they were younger, told stories of their childhood, and talked about their current lives. Harry and Elizabeth shared a sleeve of oreos, again, joking about it with his bandmates before putting it away. She felt like they could really open up to them, like they were forming a real friendship.

“I can’t believe you almost got into a fight with her ex boyfriend!” Sarah put a hand on her cheek, “Good on you, though. He sounds like a creep, no offence.”

“None taken,” Elizabeth nodded, taking a sip from her glass of wine, “It was a long time coming.”

“It must be nice to still have close friends from when you were just children,” Mitch commented and turned to Harry, “Do you feel like you missed out? I mean, I know you said you had lost touch for a while, but….?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah. But I’m just glad to be back in it now. That’s why I practically forced her to come with me. I didn’t want to have a repeat of last time.”

Mitch and Sarah nodded in silence, but the stare Mitch gave seemed almost like he was peering into their soul. He finally spoke again, “Alright, so you two are dating then, or?”

Elizabeth glanced at Harry seeing a shocked smile form on his face, “Uhm...no. We’re not officially dating yet.”

“What does that even mean?” Sarah grinned, furrowing her eyebrows at the two of them.

Harry cleared his throat, “Jesus, with the interrogation tonight. It means that we’re enjoying each other’s company and elevating our friendship slowly.”

“You sure do have a way with words, don’t you?” Elizabeth laughed. “I’m just...not ready to have that official label yet, so for now I’m just a ‘friend’..”

Mitch nodded, “I understand. You just need to dip your toe into this world first.”

“Exactly!”

They spent a little more time talking until the song ‘Comethru’ by Jeremy Zuker started playing on the speakers.

“Oh, I love this song!” Elizabeth exclaimed, swaying in her seat. 

Harry looked over at her with a smile before standing up and offering his hand for a dance. Elizabeth looked at it hesitantly, and slightly embarrassed, taking a peak at Mitch and Sarah. They smiled kindly at her and Harry, so Elizabeth took this as a sign that it was okay and took his hand. He led her a few feet over towards the pool a bit more before turning to her, draping her free hand on his shoulder before wrapping an arm around her waist, still holding onto her other hand. She relaxed her head into Harry’s chest as the two swayed. In seconds Mitch and Sarah joined them, dancing under the stars.

The next, more upbeat song began to play and Mitch turned to them, “Oh, Harry, that reminds me. I had a few more ideas for those songs we were working on if I can show you real quick?”

Harry nervously switched footing, breaking apart from Elizabeth, “Uh, yeah. Let’s just go into the office,” he looked hesitantly at the girls, “Are you two okay for a bit?”

“I think we can manage,” Elizabeth snorted, making Sarah laugh.

KEEP READING

[greenbagjosh]

19 April 2001 - flight to IAD and film “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and Sleepy Hooman”

Grüezi Mitenand!  Bonjour!  Buongiorno!  Hi everyone!

Twenty years ago today, I began my Sechseläuten vacation to Switzerland through Italy.  This was the "encore" vacation as a continuation of the one I had in September 2000, following along maybe half of the route from then.  The one unusual change was the very early flight from San Francisco International by United, to Washington Dulles, with a connection there to Milano Malpensa MXP Terminal 1.  

I woke up about 4 AM, bags all packed, and a work colleague had volunteered (actually agreed for Swiss chocolate as a barter) to drive me to the airport.  Before that, I had to call the hotel to let them know I was coming, so they would not be overbooked.  

I made it to the former Terminal 3 Concourse F about 4:25 AM to check in.  The plane was scheduled to take off about 6:30 AM, and board about 6 AM.  I was listening to my radio, an Aiwa HS-JS 479 AM/FM Stereo cassette recorder, and had tuned into my usual morning radio station to hear "One More Time" by Daft Punk.  Only in a matter of minutes, the plane started boarding.  The last time I flew from SFO to Washington Dulles it was on a Boeing 767, but this time I was on an Airbus A320 and I was in a window seat.  The plane took off about 6:40 AM.  I think at 7:30 AM breakfast was served, it was, for those who did not otherwise order a "special meal", eggs, sausage and orange juice, coffee or tea optional.  At 8:15 AM the inflight movie started, and it was the English-dubbed "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" film, as the only choice.  I watched half an hour of it before uncontrollably falling asleep.  I woke up the last ten minutes before it ended.  The plane landed about 11 AM Eastern (in 2001 I was living in California, so the original time was Pacific).

Usually flights from San Francisco to Washington Dulles by United Airlines fly into Concourses C or D.  I had a look at the departures display and there was already a delay for the UA 0970 flight to Milano Malpensa by at least an hour.  I had to be back at Dulles by 3:45 PM in time to board the flight, though somehow it was pushed back a bit more by United Airlines.  That gave me the idea to see if I could make it as far as Capitol Hill in DC - well, did I succeed without the plane to Italy taking off that day without me?  We will find out...

In April 2001, there were no direct Metrorail trains to Washington Dulles, but there is an extension project underway to have the Airport rail station with the Silver line to Reston and Wiehle opened by 2022.  Instead, I had to take a Washington Flyer bus to the West Falls Church Metrorail station, buy a ticket for the Metrorail and take the Orange Line to L'Enfant Plaza.  That would take maybe 45 to 50 minutes.  I listened to the radio on my way from the airport to West Falls Church, and I distinctly remember hearing "I'm like a bird" by Nelly Furtado.  Once I arrived at L'Enfant Plaza, about 1:07 PM according to the timestamps on a video screenshot, I was about halfway between the Washington Monument and Capitol Hill.  I spent about five minutes in the Capitol Mall before going back to L'Enfant Plaza, taking the yellow line to the Pentagon station.  I did not go inside the Pentagon, but went there because I had enough time to do so.  I only went as far as the visitor entrance, but about 1:50 PM I decided to stop the DC tour and head back to the airport.  I took the blue line to Rosslyn to change to the orange line.  About 2:30 I caught the bus back to the airport and was there around 3:15 PM.  More than enough time to still catch the UA 0970 flight.  It was delayed 90 minutes from its expected departure time, owing to a mechanical concern of the Boeing 767.  

About 6:30 PM the flight boarded and took off about 7:15 PM, when there was still sunlight out.  As for the inflight meal, I cannot remember exactly, other than, it was good enough to order a Heineken and subsequently the "house red".  The entertainment was okay, at least I could choose which channel I wanted to watch.  There was "Where the heart is", dubbed in Italian and called "Qui, dove bate il cuore" (here, where the heart beats).  

On Friday the 20th April 2001, I would arrive at Milano Malpensa a bit after 9 AM but I would make it to Lugano in good time.  Please join me when I take a historic bus route (has since changed to a rail line) to Lugano, sleep off the jetlag, almost missing dinnertime and have a night walk through central Lugano.

Auf wiederluege!  Au revoir!  Arrivederci!  Goodbye!

[oncearoundthegarrison-blog]

London to Lundy Part 1

5 months sounds like a long time, but when you’ve started a new job in a completely different industry, it flies by. New colleagues, new commute, new schedule, new maze-like museum building that took at least a month to get used to. Even new vocabulary. 

I felt like I was desperately treading water, slowly drowning in a sea of to-dos. It finally took the Christmas period, when the museum was closed, most colleagues and external contacts had taken holidays and my telephone and inbox fell quiet, that I had a moment to realise... I have 13 days of annual leave to use up before the end of the financial year.

My husband’s birthday is in March, so I thought we could go somewhere together to celebrate, as we had been doing the last few years. The thing is, my husband works in a small company, a team of 3, in fact. Unfortunately, the other 2 also have their birthdays in March, so, being the most junior, he felt he couldn’t take a week off, especially because they were planning a work trip around that time too.

“You should go on a yoga retreat by yourself.” he suggested. As if I wanted to pay hundreds of pounds to go and spend days stretching with strangers, some of whom were guaranteed to be a little too ‘woo-woo’ for my taste (no offence). 

I decided I wanted to do something that was ‘worthwhile’ with my time. After hours researching expensive (and scammy) conservation holidays, scrolling through WorkAways and WWOOFing opportunities, I somehow landed on the jackpot; a National Trust working holiday on Lundy, a three mile long, half mile wide island off the coast of North Devon.

Having hastily signed up and gained a place, I set to work on the dreaded getting-there logistics. The first thing was already ticked off the list. The only way of getting from the Devon coast onto Lundy Island at that time of the year is by Helicopter. With that booked, I looked into getting from London to Devon and back. 

The autumn before, I had bought my first car. It’s a fully electric Nissan Leaf. Using it largely for the weekly shop and commuting to work (15 minutes if the traffic is nice, 1 hour if it’s the usual), it’s the perfect car for pootling around the city and suburbs, where an electric charger is always close to hand. We’d done the odd 2 hour drives, but the route planning, and adding 30 mins per charge stop, the anxiety of ‘what if the charger we are heading towards is out of order’ was quite stressful, so a solo drive down to Devon seemed a foolhardy concept.

But, the more I tried to arrange the public transport, the more complicated things got. First off, the nearest train station is 25 miles away, and you need to get on a bus for an hour even to get close to the helipad. Not only that but you had to get there by 10am latest, so unless you wanted to leave London at crazy o��clock, you had to arrive the night before and find accommodation. On top of that, on the way back, you have no idea what time your helicopter flight is. “Sometime between 11 and 3pm, and it depends on the weather, you could be delayed to later in the afternoon or even the next day!” So booking a train for the way back was a gamble. Driving to Devon in my electric car started to look like a more attractive, at least simpler, concept.

I’m not what you call a confident driver, and some past long distance drives had been very stressful. It’s hard for me to forget that I could kill myself or anyone else by making a silly mistake. And I make plenty of those in my everyday life. What if I don’t plan well and I run out of charge on my car? The prospect of driving alone, for four hours, which would probably include at least 4 charges, was terrifying. Also, if I want to arrive at the heliport at 9:30am, then I would need to leave at 5:30am, but add on 4 x 30 minute charges is 3:30am, and maybe I should add an extra hour in case I take the wrong turning or there is traffic or a diversion... well that’s crazy o’clock. So I decided to break up the journey by stopping off at my uncle’s in Bristol.

The week before setting off, I made sure to check and double check the route on the Zap-Map app, which shows you the locations of all the EV chargers. I read reviews of each charger, making sure it was used recently and recorded as having a successful charge. I made sure I knew the locations of at least 2 other chargers near the one I actually planned to charge at, in case that one was occupied or faulty. 

I wrote out the addresses of each charger, in case I lost my phone. I packed a portable power bank for my phone, in case it ran out of battery. I found out what numbers I need to call if I break down or run out of charge, or have an accident (yeah OK I should’ve known those already). Some chargers require you to start the charge using your mobile phone... but what if you didn’t have enough reception? I drove my husband crazy with my fretting and stressing. I made sure I had enough car snacks and a good playlist.

Then the day finally came. I left for Bristol around 9.00am. It was a bright sunny day and I left in high spirits, onto the M4. Forty minutes later, dirty black clouds appear and it starts to properly pour. The roads were not too busy but there was a ropey 15 minutes of very poor visibility, the spray from the other cars and lorries obscuring the road like a thick fog. My heart pumping, I was very glad to arrive at my first charge stop at a service station just after 10am.

There, I struck up a conversation with a fellow Nissan Leaf driver, and I asked him if he’d heard the rumour that you shouldn’t charge your car up to 100% on one of the rapid chargers (there are a few different charge speeds, you see). It’s something I was told by the customer services person when I rang up the helpline on a day a charger refused to stop charging (really reassuring). The man looked at me doubtingly and said that he hadn’t. When he left, I googled it and it really does seem to be the case that it damages your battery. I hope he looked it up later as well. I had a hot chocolate in the Starbucks, charged my phone and bought some gloves, as I forgot to pack mine. Feeling panicked about damaging the battery, I headed off at 82% charged.

Luckily, the closer I got to Bristol and my uncle’s flat, the lower the speed limit, the more traffic there was. I say lucky because driving in those circumstances uses up much less charge than going 70mph down the motorway. By 11:40 I have arrived at my final charge stop, a Bannatyne Health Club just round the corner from my final destination. I was even more happy to see that it was a simple plug in, tap your contactless card and charge jobby. You’d think that’s how all chargers are, but no. EV chargers are run by different providers, I have no less than 5 different apps on my phone plus a physical tap card, and there’s still some chargers where I have to spend ages registering on a website in order to start a charge. Mental.

I go into the health club and explain I’m not a member but would like to sit in the cafe while my car charges. I was a bit worried they would turn me away, but, just as my Zap-Map colleagues had reassured me, they asked me to sign in to a guest book and let me in. I order a tea and settle down for 20 minutes. In hindsight, during my journey to Devon and back, I think I spent almost the same amount of money on beverages and nibbles waiting for the car to charge as for the charge itself!

Anyway, all in all a smooth journey to Bristol, and I get to my uncle’s around 12:15, just in time for lunch. After a lovely afternoon taking in the sights of Bristol (managed to catch the excellent Wildlife Photography of The Year 2019 exhibition at M Shed, see below for the fun image of a shocked Himalayan marmot that won the Grand Title) and catching up with a friend over a quick drink in the evening, I go to bed early, ready for an early start in the morning.

[mobius-prime]

36. Special - Sonic Triple Trouble

Previous / Table of Contents / Next

That's right, it's already time for another special issue! Unlike the one before, this one doesn't begin with an intro page, so let's just jump right in, shall we?

TTTriple TTTrouble!!!

Writer: Mike Gallagher Pencils: Dave Manak Colors: Barry Grossman

This story begins with Robotnik having obtained a Chaos Emerald somehow. Of course, he's ready to use it to power a machine that will let him brutally murder all who stand against him, until one of his badniks calibrates something wrong and the tiniest, least destructive explosion in the world splits the emerald in two.

As one might expect from an object so powerful, splitting it in two can create some pretty weird and unstable effects. One of the halves happens to land near the Freedom Fighters' base, allowing them to witness the creation of a new zone, which apparently looks like one hell of a drug trip.

Naturally Sonic rushes out to retrieve the emerald and explore the new zone, but a shadowy figure is behind him, a bounty hunter that Robotnik has also hired to get the Chaos Emerald back…

Meanwhile, Knuckles is enjoying a chill day on his island when he spots the other half of the Chaos Emerald, which conveniently lands on his island atop "Mt. Osohai," a name which got a genuine snicker out of me. The panel also explains exactly how Knuckles is able to achieve limited flight, by catching the wind underneath his dreadlocks. I'm pretty sure that's not exactly how aerodynamic lift works, but eh, whatever, we can let him have this one.

He reaches the emerald, only to see that it's drilled its way into the rock, and seems to be burrowing even further in. Before he can investigate further, however, a rockfall knocks him unconscious, and sends him plummeting seemingly to certain death…

Since everyone loves a cliffhanger, we shift back to Sonic for now, to watch him zoom through the "Triple Trouble Zone," which is basically just two full pages of him speeding through the various levels present in the actual Triple Trouble game for the Game Gear. Eventually he reaches the center of the zone, only to be zapped from behind by…

That's right, Nack the Weasel has made his first appearance! This is another one of my favorite characters from the comics, and I want everyone to know right now that in my mind he speaks with this like, 30s New York gangster accent, and I absolutely cannot imagine him speaking any other way. With both the Chaos Emerald half and Sonic in his possession, he cuts Robotnik another deal to bring back Sonic as a prisoner. Moving back to Knuckles again, we find that he's awoken on some kind of ritual table with beings in strange tribal masks surrounding him - and one of them raises a pointy stick! Oh no!

It's okay, turns out Knuckles isn't some kind of ritual sacrifice. The being - an Ancient Walker, which apparently Knuckles has heard about in stories before - just wants to draw him some pictures to communicate, since they apparently can't talk. They manage to communicate to him that the emerald half is burrowing into the Chaos Chamber, and if it joins with the whole one, the resulting explosion will destroy his island. Determined to stop this from happening, Knuckles is sent back to where he came from only to spot Nack gliding along in his vehicle. He makes the very smart decision to punch him on sight, knocking him cold but also causing Sonic and the other emerald half to fall into the nearby lake.

Luckily, the sudden dunking is all that's needed to shock Sonic back to consciousness, who then surfaces and immediately targets the first being he sees - which is, of course, Knuckles. Really, these comics love to find any contrived reason they possibly can to set Sonic and Knuckles against each other in these early issues. After fighting for a little while, Nack's communicator goes off, from which they learn about Robotnik's plan to retrieve the two emerald halves to rejoin them. They make it into the Chaos Chamber just in time to get the burrowing half to join with Sonic's half instead of the whole one, and with a flash of light, suddenly they find themselves back on the surface… minus one Chaos Emerald. Since neither of them knows where it disappeared to, they say goodbye, with Sonic jacking Nack's vehicle for himself and paying him back by stuffing him in the backseat tied up, and then we get… an incredibly bizarre epilogue.

Apparently the Ancient Walkers took the emerald magically, and are doing… something… with it. Seriously, what in the unholy hell is going on here? Honestly, if I didn't know that Michael was the one who wrote this I would have been convinced it was a Penders story, just due to how utterly bizarre and contextless this page is. It's honestly just so unlike Michael's usual slapstick fare. Who are these guys? What prophecy are they fulfilling by dumping a gem into a circle in the dirt? What cycle are they completing? What the actual hell is happening here?

Submersible Rehearsal

Writer: Mike Gallagher Pencils: Art Mawhinney Colors: Barry Grossman

As alluded to by some passing dialogue in the first story, Rotor has apparently been building Tails a submarine for a little while now, as Tails has been fascinated by the idea ever since the first issue of the Sonic miniseries that this comic began with. As it turns out however, Rotor was instructed by Sally to not actually put any gas in it, to ensure that Tails can't go off on his own in it. Why Rotor built a fully functional sub when he only ever intended to let Tails play pretend in it is beyond me, but Tails is rather pissed at this, and understandably so. Suddenly a super oily seagull shows up, having barely escaped capture for roboticization by a new henchman of Robotnik's.

Of course, Tails, being the environmentalist that he is, simply can't let all that sweet sweet oil go to waste, so a few minutes later he's on his way to investigate with a fresh tank of fuel. He discovers the henchman, Octobot, which as you might expect is a robotic octopus, capturing more helpless undersea creatures and preparing to stuff them in a roboticizer. Tails fires some torpedoes - again, can't stress this enough, this was supposed to just be a toy for him to play with - and destroys the roboticizer, returning triumphant and excited to tell the other Freedom Fighters about his victory.

Hmm, what's that about an upcoming Tails miniseries…?

First Contact

Writer/Pencils: Ken Penders Colors: Barry Grossman

Vector makes his first appearance in this story, with Knuckles apparently having just rescued him from nearly falling into some hot… soupy stuff. Really, it's not clear exactly what it is, it doesn't look like lava, more like boiling mud or something. Anyway, Knuckles then spies something strange written on a nearby rock.

He fights a few stray robots that Robotnik apparently left on the island, following the trail until it dumps him into the Chaos Chamber. A mysterious voice speaks to him, claiming to be the Archimedes referenced on the stone, and basically speaks in riddles for a little while, claiming that Knuckles will only get to see him when he can find him. Knuckles later sits on the edge of the island that night to ponder the strange meeting.

And we end on another plug for an upcoming special issue. However, we won't be tackling that one quite yet…

[animorphstruther2002]

WIP story.

"You're home!"

"Finally, you miss me, babe?"

"More than you can imagine! What took you so long?"

"I know, I know, traffic was hell. Let me put my cycle away and I'll join you up on the porch."

"Nope, I've got a surprise for you inside."

As she turns to go inside I park my bike in its spot, and join her in the living room. What I see there leaves me nearly speechless.

"My... my jacket. You found it! Where was it?"

"I went over to your parents place while you were gone on that trip a year back. It was in a closet, I fixed it up. Do you like it?"

"Like it? I love it! I can't believe you did that!"

"Try it on, I need to see if it fits!"

I walk towards the jacket, circle it, lift the sleeves, it's been made just like new, except for a little patch right over the heart on the inside.

"What's this?"

"My initials, and yours. I figured I could make a few changes while I was fixing it up."

"There's more? Where?"

No answer, just that sly smile of hers, that one that she knows drives me crazy.

"Just try it on, come on!"

Lifting the jacket off the rack feels just like my high school days, the same familiar weight if the heavy brown leather, and as I slip it over my arms I have flashbacks to those days. My first kiss, in a movie theater. My first motorbike, bought after two years of saving, and even more arguing with my parents. Meeting Abi, after crashing in a storm trying to get home.

"This... I can't believe you did this for me. It's perfect."

I slip my hands into the pockets and feel something else, pulling it out I find a pair of aviators, well tinted.

"I thought you might like those" Abi says.

"It's all perfect. Thank you."

Bringing her into a kiss reminds me of something I got for her, after finally getting back from a week long trip for work.

"I've got a surprise for you, too."

She looks up at me, quizzically.

"I'm off for the week, only to be called in case of an extreme emergency."

"The whole week! You haven't been off for that long in two years! What happened?"

"I put my foot down, told them if I didn't get some quality time with my girl I was done, they bent."

"That's great honey! We can finally go to that barbecue with my family!"

"I can't wait, but first I need a day with you, and only you. I was thinking a movie, and then down to the pier for a while, check out the carnival."

"That sounds amazing, but tomorrow, tonight I just want to be alone with you"

The next day is one for the memory books. Abi goes all out, wearing the sundress I love, and the perfume she wore on our first date. I give my new jacket a test run in the movie, and get a few annoyed looks for paying more attention to Abi's lips then the movie. Lunch at the pier turns out to be phenomenal, with greasy medium rare burgers, and crispy fries. The pier carnival holds up to the rest of the day, with Abi winning a small bear, and me crushing her and winning a massive duck stuffed animal. Somehow the two switched hands partway through the day, I couldn't say how. Even the ride home is a good one, the sunset illuminating Abi's beautiful red hair, and the mallard's green fuzz sandwiched between us.

"Today was amazing," Abi says as we lay in bed, "tomorrow we meet my family in the park for the get together you've been promising for a year now"

"Alright, I get it, sorry my job is so demanding" I say, while I can't help smirking at her blatant sarcasm.

Rolling up to the park Abi's kid sister, Cat, is the first to notice us.

"Abi! You guys finally made it"

"Sorry, someone" she says while looking pointedly at me, "couldn't get up on time"

"Sorry, sorry, it would have been easier had someone not been jabbering in my ear all night."

"Alright you two, calm down and come get some brats" Abi's dad says as he walks over, with two sausages, handing one to Abi and one to me.

"It's great to finally get together again, sorry my job has been so demanding"

"Well you can make up for it by pushing me on the swing" Cat says, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the swing set. Abi follows, and leans against me while I push.

"Thank you for coming out"

"Babe, there is nowhere I would rather be"

Just then I hear a yell, distinctly stupid, "Hey, Grip, boss wants you."

"Tell her to shove off, and I told you not to call me that when I'm off the clock, I told her I wouldn't be available all week. Unless the world is literally ending, I don't want to hear it."

"She said you'd say that, she said to tell you that it would end for you if you don't come in"

"And I say I'm not coming in, I'm busy."

The goon's phone rings, he answers it then passes it to me.

"Grip, it's hit the fan. You need to come in." That oddly twinges voice of the boss ringing through the speakers.

"Boss. You know I can't. I told you, I'm with Abi and her family.  I'm busy."

"Sucks, we need you to come in. And you know you don't get a choice here. Tell you what, you do this, you're even. No more, not unless you want. Full freedom, full severance, for life"

That was a good deal. The thing is, I did need this job, at least this last one. That full severance pay would support Abi and me, along with her whole family, if they wanted. I had gotten mixed up with this group, you may have heard of them. They usually go by the FBI. This branch, the Watch, was special though, they dealt with the weird, and I don't mean like naked dudes in LA. I mean like magic. I had dabbled in magic for a while, before I realized I had no skill for it, may or may not have blown up a small warehouse. I'm not at liberty to say. These guys found me, smoking from most orifices and quite a few pores, buried under the rubble. In return for saving my life I've done odd jobs for them for a while.

"Abi-"

"No. Nope. You promised. You said a week."

"I know. But-"

"No buts. You owe me at least today."

"You could let me talk to her," comes a tinny voice from the phone, which I was still holding up. "I'll explain the urgency if you'd just let me."

"No, boss, are you sure the job can't wait till tomorrow?"

"I'll give you twelve hours. Then you need to be here. That's all we can take."

"Thank you. Really."

I look up at Abi, almost in tears, and smile at her.

"I've got twelve hours, let's make the most of it."

She jumps into my arms, tears wetting my shoulder. Cat breaks us up by tugging on my arm,

"Well if you're not gonna talk in the phone, you could at least push me!"

Those twelve hours were the best of my life, after the barbecue Abi and I went home and watched a film, some obscure German film she wanted to see, and I almost fell asleep on the couch, only kept awake by her insistent jabbing in my ribs. At 11:30 I left her sleeping in bed, and rode to the office.

I get ushered up by the same goons that came to the park, straight to Mrs. Boss, real name unknown by all, probably even her cat.

"About time" I'm still five minutes early. "We have reports of a large magic blast inside the Great Sand Dunes, Colorado. You need to go and investigate."

"Colorado? I hear it's nice this time of year."

"Your flight leaves in 20 minutes. I trust you packed?"

"You know me. When was the last time I packed?"

She just rolls her eyes, almost imperceptibly, and gives me my key card to the basement.

I love the basement, it's full of guns and armor, but even cooler, it's full of funky gadgets. like a watch that can shoot little darts, or a ring that can absorb and release energy, or even a necklace that can make people explode if they put it on wrong. They've never let me take that.

"Pleased to see you again, Grip."

"You can't be sneaking up on me like that when I'm down here, I'll end up shooting you with a watch or something."

"I wish you best of luck with that, but we can argue over your skill later, now I get to show you what you can take."

"Oh goody, my favorite part. Which guns do I get this time?"

"The same as always. A 9mm and a shotgun. Why do you always ask?"

"Force of habit I guess, any other goodies in that bag of yours? Don't make me trick or treat for them."

"I would love to see that. But no, we don't have time. You get a ring, as per usual, and you get this."

He pulls out a small knife, sheathed in leather, with a strange glow about it.

"What is that? You know I prefer my distance."

"This is a single use sniper. It can hit any target within sight lines. You needn't even get within magic range of our guy."

Why they haven't used it before makes me curious, and Jones reads that in my eyebrow raise.

"We need to be in sight lines. And this magician is very good at staying hidden. We don't even have a photo of him."

"Then how am I supposed to see him? If the nation's best can't even spot him, what can I do?"

"That's where it gets tricky. And that's also where you have operational lead."

In other words, I have to improvise. Great. Well, that is why the hired me.

"Alright. Thanks for the gear. I'll be going now. To my certain demise."

"Bah, you said that last time."

After landing in Colorado I realize I should have packed a warmer jacket, even in October it's cold. Driving from Denver down to the dunes, arriving after a night of flying, and entering the regional office, it sinks in how this job might go. Just like the fireball that sinks into the concrete at my feet. I dive into the building, but no more flames impact around me. I get into a crouch behind a desk, and see a young intern around the corner. He motions for me to join him, and explains the buildings defenses, no magic can get in, at the cost of magic in the building being impossible. He leads me to the office of the general, who motions for me to sit and wait while he's on the phone.

His office is small, with pale yellow walls and a too big wooden desk. On the desk was a picture of a young girl, I assume his daughter, and a lamp. A pin on his chest announces his rank and name, Gen. Watt. He murmurs into the phone for another minute then motions me over.

"Thank you for coming. I assume you met the little goblin at the door?"

"Charming, isn't he? Is that our man?"

"If it were that easy, we wouldn't need you. That's a golem he's put there, when we destroy it another just shows up."

"Well, what have you got for me then? Anything better than somewhere in a park larger than Connecticut?"

"Not really, I'm sure you've heard how elusive he is. All I can give you is a wish for good luck."

"Well, I'll head out then. Thanks for the rest stop."

After our closing remarks I head out into the park, taking the back this time. Making my way to the motel down the road I try to come up with a game plan, preferably one that avoids fireball slinging gremlins.

It's amazing what your mind thinks of when you are on the verge of death. I remembered the night I met Abi. I had just crashed my bike. She was a first responder. My phone, having registered a spike in heart rate had queried a 911 call. My last act before passing out was to accept. I woke up in a hospital, nearly dead. The doctors said I would have, had a donor not given a large sum of money. That donor was the government, and that's why I'm working for them, at least on the outside. Abi was the ambulance driver. She came to visit me in the hospital, said she did it for all her patients. Later she admitted to thinking I was cute, even, especially, all beat up, and unconscious. She was by my side for most of the recovery. Once I got out, we moved in together. The rest is, as they say, history.

I wake up tired to a chair. I heard a grunt,

"Oy! Was he awake fer!"

Darkness encloses me as a fist collides with my jaw.

I again join the world of the living. My first sight is an ugly nose, pressed near my face, as a humoncolus inspects my head.

"Yes, all very well. Fine and dandy. Superb", it says in a nasally voice, with a distinct lack of caring. Once it notices I'm awake it jumps away, and starts to inform me of my situation. I've been captured by the wizard, who is holding me until further notice. After the clay bore leaves I check my gear. The guns are gone, so is my ring, but the knife is still sheathed in my boot, on top of my foot. That'll be a fun challenge to get to. It must have slipped down when they got me.

As I'm finishing the check for broken bones, none, a woman walks in. She is wearing a red robe, almost like a bath robe, except more like silk than cotton. She also has on dark green combat boot, the ones with straps and laces most of the way to the knee. Her dark hair is cut in a bob that almost covers her eyes. As she walks in she starts speaking.

"So, you're the infamous Grip. I thought you would be harder to catch"

I try to reply, only to find my jaw erupting in pain.

"Ah, you've discovered what I like to call my 'anti-sarcasm muzzle. Although it won't let you talk at all. I suppose that anti-sarcasm is wrong, but I'm sure you would only reply in sarcasm anyway, so it might work. But I digress, welcome to my abode."

She said this last part in a very unwelcoming way, with a distinctly angry smirk. Almost like we were hunting each other.

"I trust you weren't hurt to much? You never can tell with those golems."

Just then a clay abomination walks in.

"Ma'am, you should probably come see this. There's a lady outside yelling at the door," again, the nasally voice grates on me, why do they always have to be annoying? The witch walks out, and as she does I realize that she is probably the wizard I was looking for. I might be a bit concussed, not as fast as I could be. Or, not fast at all. I try to yell a question at her back, but am once again stopped by her stupid magic muzzle thing.

She comes back sometime later, this time with a staff, and a dark purple robe. I can't tell if this is still the same day, my cell not having any windows, so I assume the clothes change marks a new dawn. She says nothing, just smiles, maybe a bit sadly, and casts a quiet spell. All my joints instantly erupt into pain. She turns and walks out the door. As she leaves I hear a screaming, and I realize as my throat gets sore that it's me, not one of her golems.

After what felt like years she returns, that same faint, sad look on her face. She casts another spell and the pain recedes.

"That was one hour. You held up remarkably well, I'm surprised at how long it took you to faint. That was to show you just what I'll do, and trust me, it wasn't as far as I'll go. I don't want anything from you. I don't even want the Watch to leave me alone. They will be a non-issue here very soon."

As she turns to leave she remembers something.

"That girl at the door, you might know her. Her name is Abigail."

A whole new kind if pain washes over me, hurting worse than her magic ever could.

A homunculus comes into my cell. It brings a tray of food, along with a glass of water. It unlocks my hands, sets the tray in the floor, and leaves. I would the food down, this being the first meal I've had since landing in DIA. It consists of bread, and a thick potato soup. The dirt on the floor getting into the soup only enhances the flavor. I find a note under the bowl,

Sorry I forgot to feed you. Oops. I'm not used to this whole "gaoler" thing. Don't worry, I've fed Abigail. She seems very healthy. I think. Is she usually that pale?  Anyway, I'll be back tomorrow morning. Don't wait up. Ha.

The note almost takes away my appetite. But I haven't eaten in so long I manage to choke the rest down. I fall I to a fitful sleep, finally able to stretch on the floor as long as I don't move my feet to much.

I'm woken by the door clanging open. I sit up, and quickly realize just sore my whole body is, after fitful sleeps in a chair and on a stone floor. It's her again, this time in a light green robe.

"Do you only wear robes? That seems cliche" I manage to get out, through my sore throat.

"Oh. My muzzle seems to have worn off."

I feel a clamp over my face, and am unable to speak again. She moves a bit closer, and taps her staff against the chains on my feet, which fall into the stone. She taps it again on the far wall, and a small cot appears.

"Truly sorry, as my note said I'm really not used to this whole prisoner thing. I've come to talk with, or I guess to, you. As you can't leave, having seen me, you will have to stay here forever. Or at least until I finish my task."

With that, she turns around and walks out of the cell, the door closing behind her.

Days pass, food appears on the floor, nothing changes. With each meal I make a mark on the wall, the lines slowly add up.

I can speak again, and I've started talking to myself, quietly recounting the events that led up to this. I almost manage to convince myself there was nothing I could've done, but I'm never quite able to shake the image of Abi in a cell like mine. Each time I try to remember how I got caught. Each time my memory blanks after I leave the office. What if I had left out the front? Would she still have gotten me?

Eventually the sorceress returns. Her robes are gently smoking and covered in ash. Through the various holes I can see her undershirt, a tasteful red to go with what I assume to have been a purple robe.

"Good to see you're still here. I almost thought you would have tried to escape by now. Is Abi really that important to you? I wouldn't hurt her. I'm not like that."

By now my knife is accessible, and I'm only waiting for am opportunity to use it.

"What do you want with me? What are your plans here?"

"I told you, I don't want anything from you. You are just a nuisance in my way. As for my plans, I only want equality for the masses."

[  ] Robin Hood approach!!!

[  ] Plan (eat the rich? The FBI? Gov in general?)

[  ] Grip doesn't believe, then does(?)

[  ] Abi reunited

[  ] Grip agrees to help

[  ] Sorceress dies(?) Disappears(?)

[  ] Grip finds Gov being bad

[  ] Grip + sorceress defeated by tyrant(?) Or beat them(?)

[benhardyorbust]

The Trip of a Lifetime PT 8

Recap: You had just graduated from college, but you had one last trip to go on for one of your classes. You were going to London with your intercultural media communication class for two weeks. The first night you matched with a boy named Ben on Bumble. The second night of your trip you go on a date with him and go home with him. After seeing Ben at a nightclub with another girl, and confronting him about it, you’ve decided to still go to Paris with him for the weekend. 

1372 words 

Read part 7 here

*beep beep beep* 

You roll over and check your phone, it’s 4:30 AM. You have one text message from Ben. 

“I’ll be there to pick you up at 5″

You groan, it’s so early. You get out of bed, brush your teeth, pull your hair into a loose ponytail, slip on some leggings and a hoodie and make yourself a cup of coffee while you wait for Ben. 

You don’t really know how this is going to go, you haven’t seen Ben since you confronted him about being with that other girl at the club. Will this be awkward? What is he going to say? 

You look down at your phone, Ben texted you. 

“Ready when you are, love”

You grab your carry on suit case you packed for Paris and go down the elevator. Ben is sitting in the lobby waiting for you. He smiles and stands up when he sees you. 

“Good morning, love,” he says as he takes your luggage in one hand and your hand in the other. He kisses the top of your head, you love when he does that. 

“You’re very chipper this morning,” you say as you start to talk to his car. 

“I’m just excited that we are going on this trip together,” he says. 

“Me too,” you say, smiling up at him. 

“You look beautiful this morning,” he says. 

“Oh please, I just woke up ten minutes ago and didn’t even brush my hair,” you say, playfully hitting him. 

“You always look beautiful, y/n,” he says as he opens the passenger side door.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you respond. 

“I know,” Ben says back, laughing. He drives away from the hotel and towards the airport. 

This isn’t awkward at all, you think. Yet. Hopefully the rest of the trip is this normal.

“So, what do you have in store for us on this trip?”

“Well, we are going to Paris,” Ben says, looking over at you laughing. Your heart literally melts when he smiles at you. 

“No way, really? I had nooo idea,” you say back sarcastically. 

You both laugh at each other. 

“Everything I have planned is a surprise! I really wanted to make this trip special for you,” he says. 

“Well, I can’t wait to see what you came up with.” 

You arrive at the airport and you both get out of the car and head inside. 

“Okay, we have 45 minutes to get through everything and on the plane,” he says. “Think we can do it?” 

“Oh, I know we can. We’ve done more in less time,” you say winking at him. You turn and walk into the airport with your luggage. 

Ben chases after you, like a puppy to his owner. You just love to tease him. 

~~~ 

You and Ben manage to get to the terminal with plenty of time to spare. Only a few fans stopped him while you two were in security and getting some breakfast. Apparently he had planned time for that to happen. Actors. 

You look down at your ticket and see it’s first class. 

“Wow, first class! You sprung for the nice seats!” you say. 

“Only the best for Ben Hardy!” 

“You are, ridiculous!” 

“And you love it!” 

You roll your eyes at him, “suuuure”

You both get on the plane and settle in. 

“How long is this flight? I didn’t even bother to look” you say. 

“Around an hour,” Ben says. 

“Oh wow! That’s not bad at all! The last flight I was on was roughly 12 hours,” you say laughing. 

The plane takes off and you start to get kind of bored. Ben is dozing off but you can’t sleep. You have an idea. 

You tap Ben to wake him up. 

“Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes,” you say, with a devilish grin. You walk to the bathroom closest to your side of the plane.

He immediately is wide awake. He watches you walk away with lust. 

Exactly five minutes later there’s a soft knock on the door. You open it just wide enough for him to slip in and then close it before anyone sees. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a longer five minutes,” Ben says. 

“We don’t have much time, shut up and kiss me,” you say. 

Ben pulls you in for a kiss, but right before he kisses you, he whispers, “We’ve done more in less time.” 

He starts to kiss you, like you haven’t seen each other in months. It’s almost as if he’s hungry for you. 

You start to whisper in his ear while he kisses down your neck.

“You are... so hot” you say in between breaths. “I.... missed .... your .... touch”

You reach down and start to undo the tie on his sweat pants, which he looks so hot in by the way. You pull them down quickly and continue to kiss him.

He looks up at you and grins while he bites his lip. 

He picks up you up, puts you down on the sink counter and pulls down your leggings. 

~~~

You both go back to your seats one at a time. You were only gone maybe a total of fifteen minutes, no one suspected a thing, or at least you think. You don’t really care. That was the sexiest thing you’ve probably ever done.

When Ben sits back down you tuck your arm in his and whisper “not a bad way to kill some time. And join the mile high club too.” 

You both laugh softly.

“Not a bad way at all, love,” he says as he lightly kisses your lips. “There is more where that came from.” 

My god, you think. This man has a SPELL on me or something. I was ready to rip his head off twenty-four hours ago, and now you just had sex with him on an air plane? What is happening. You can’t wait until you land so you can tell Brooke about this. 

You lay your head on his shoulder and fall asleep like that. You feel safe in his arms. 

~~~

Almost as quickly as you fell asleep, it is time to get up. 

“Bienvenue à Paris!” the flight attendant says as the plane touches down. 

As you open your eyes you look up at Ben. He is looking at you smiling. You smile back and he pecks you on the forehead. He makes you so happy. 

You both make your way off the plane and into the airport. There, he sees a few fans and takes pictures with them. There are also a few people just taking pictures of the two of you together. 

You lean towards him to whisper  “Why are they taking pictures of us?”

“Probably to post online about how “this is the mystery girl Ben was talking about” or something like that. What do you say, shall we give them a show?”

Before you can say anything, Ben has pulled you in for a kiss. It’s soft and sweet and lasts just long enough for everyone to get their pictures. You pull away from the kiss and laugh. 

“They are going to go nuts over that!” you say. “How long do you think before they find my Instagram?” 

“I give them two hours,” he says laughing. 

“Well they are all going to be disappointed when they see I’m just a girl from Nebraska with 900 followers,” you say laughing. 

“They can be disappointed all they want, I’m the one shagging you,” he says laughing and giving you a light slap on your butt. 

You look at him, gasp and laugh. 

“Ben! They can probably hear you!” 

“Let them! What is there to hide? We are in love and the whole world should know!” 

“Okay, calm down lover boy. We don’t need to go telling the whole world about us yet, especially since my parents don’t know yet.” 

“How old did you say your brother was?”

“18, why?”

“I’m sure he will see those pictures within the next day or so, and probably tell your parents for you. Done and done.” 

“Wait! Do you think we will end up on E!?? I’ve always wanted to be on E! in one of those “who is that girl” segments!” 

“Considering the interview I did the other day was with them, probably,” he says laughing. 

“Oh, my mom will definitely see that, she will be so proud!” you say laughing. “I feel like I’m in the Lizzie McGuire Movie.” 

“How so?”

“I’ve met a famous, foreign man on my two week school trip to another country and somehow managed to fall in love with him...” you say as you trail off. “But hopefully it doesn’t end the same way the movie does.” 

“How does it end? I’ve never seen it.” 

“Basically the pop star she meets ends up being the scammer of the century and she kisses her best friend. I love Brooke and all but not like that,” you say as you laugh. 

“Oh shoot! You foiled my plan!” he says, laughing. 

You playfully hit him and laugh along. 

“I have a feeling we are going to have fun on this little get away,” he says. 

“I have a feeling we are going to have some fun when we get to our hotel,” you say, winking at him as you get in the cab. 

Part 9

[cawcawpeasants]

Happy Birthday, Nozel

Yeah, I wrote something. Been some time. Hope y’all like it and also a good new year!

He was sitting in the dimly lit office, brooding over the cup of tea in front of him and staring at it, like it was holding the cure to all his issues.

Issues which have caused him a nonstop sour mood for at least a month now and a throbbing headache that had been holding on for nearly as long, too.

He threw a look out the window. It was dark outside already, well, at this time of the year night began at 4 pm, so that was not unusual. The snow was the only thing that sprinkled a bit light into all this darkness. Or what kind of muddy grey mess was left of it.

Nozel scrunched up his Nose.

Yeah, pretty was different. It definitely did not bring him into a festive or celebratory mood like others.

He leaned back in his high office chair and took a sip from his tea and instantly burned his tongue.

Annoyed from the new pain which flared up his headache again, he all but threw the offending beverage back on his desk.

        Most wonderful time of the year, as if! he thought

He threw a look at the calendar hanging on his wall, which told him in bright letters that it was December, the 29th already. The year was as good as gone and he somehow managed to make it through the whole charade of anniversaries, events and of course Christmas with not only his relatives, but what seemed to be the whole noble court of clover.

It was a strain, it was a bother, but as royalty they had a reputation to uphold, which included representing their wealth and grandeur by hosting exquisite and lavish balls and celebrations.

The family exclusive part was mostly a dinner the night before, and even that was…difficult to go through sometimes.

It wasn’t that it was bad, or that he wasn’t grateful for what he had, but he remembered when this time was greater, warmer, happier.

He felt like something heavy was sitting on his chest. He had been feeling this the whole time now, rendering unable to get into a more uplifted mood.

He reached for the tea again, again finding it to be to his distaste, but for another reason this time.

        Cold! How Disgusting. Well, only slightly more disgusting than in                           its hot state.

He decided, to take this as a sign that the tea would not help him any further in his problems. A quick look at his desk told him, that there, too, was nothing left that could divert his thoughts from depressing memories. He had worked through all the different papers, reports and requests, burying so deep in his work that it seemed he was well off for a while. This should last till at least the first weak of January, given that around new years things were rather slow in the kingdom.

Well, the people maybe were, but time sure wasn’t. A glance to the big watch across his desk told him, that the Calendar had been wrong.

It was the 30th already.

       Happy birthday to me… 30 already, I cannot believe that this will be my               16th birthday without M-

Nozel stood up abruptly, forbidding himself to continue that thought

He grabbed his coat, extinguished the light and went on his way to the castle. He had thought about sleeping in his chambers at the Base, but since tomorrow he was supposed to present himself early for a royal only birthday celebration brunch at the castle anyways, he decided that it would make more sense in his bed there.

When he reached the inner court, he stopped for a small second, looking back at the windows of the castle which houses the Silver Eagles, but saw nothing that caused him to worry. He couldn’t wait to come back, after his birthday celebration and the new years ball. The two events usually mostly flowed into each other, causing it to be a long and exhausting thing to attend, let alone host and be centrum of.

He reached for his grimoire, looking through the pages until he found the spell to make a small mercury eagle he could ride on. He held the tome in his hands for a minute, staring at the familiar pages and binding, slowly tracing the pattern with his fingers. It was the best birthday gift he had ever gotten, it was his greatest pride in his life to possess a magic so similar to-

       Mother…

His eyes sank away from the book, his fingers stilled, suddenly cold and numb. He gritted his teeth and put the grimoire away into its case.

It also brought him the greatest pain. He would have given everything, his magic included, if he could have had shown her his grimoire. His Magic. Who he became. She would have smiled kindly at him like she always did, she would be warm, and loving and honest in her Joy for him.

It seemed like another ten tons were added to the weights on his chest. He climbed onto the bird, before he would be anchored to the ground he stood on, destined to fall into an inevitably hole that would swallow him.

The flight back up to his home only took a few minutes, even though he wished it would’ve taken longer. He enjoyed the cool air across his face, it seemed to drown out the heaviness which had befallen him. Also, he knew that this would be his last private moment, alone with some peace and quiet, for all his birthday.

He closed his eyes and took one last deep breath as a preparation for tomorrow.

After he landed and passed all the palace guards, he stood in front of the royal families residences. He saw one or other room still lit, probably some servants making their preparations, but others-

            “I had a feeling, you’d still be awake”

-probably night owls like him.

He passively glanced at the other man over his shoulder, the deep sooth voice had already told him was.

            “I was working” was all Nozel answered.

Fuegoleon took that sparse answer, but not without raising an eyebrow that told Nozel exactly, that they both knew what was behind the Silva’s paper marathon. He had witnessed it for more than a decade now.

The tall redhead made a step in his direction, so they were standing side by side now. He mustered his appearance, squinting his eyes slightly at the sight of Nozel’s face.

        “You look tired”

Nozel threw him an exasperated look, not deigning that an answer. They both knew how late, or rather how early in the day it was. And what the real reason for Nozels paler than usual complexion and dark shadows under his eyes was.

The other placed a hand on his shoulder. A warmth flooded from the space into the Silva’s body, making it somehow easier to breath.

        “I would ask if you are okay, but I guess I will be getting the same answer.”           Leon’s deep voice sounded. “How about we drink a glass of wine,                         talk a bit and then fall asleep easier to get up well rested and prepared.”

The pressure of his arm and the tone of the Vermilion made it clear, that that was neither a question nor an offer.

His pride and stubbornness about receiving orders from another one flared up in his chest, but the heaviness and the lack of sleep were rendering him without energy to put into a fight against the headstrong Vermillion.

        And energy is something I should definitely be thrifty with right now. It will            be too critical a thing for the next 48 hours.

His shoulders gave a little, he was letting out a breath he had seemed to be holding since Christmas and he felt himself relax a bit.

        “Just one glass. I have to get up early after all.”

With that he stepped away from the Vermillion, leaving the warming touch behind, and carried himself over to the Vermilions side of the plaza with a steady and determined.

Leon smiled slightly at that, but his eyebrow was wandering up again. The Silva really couldn’t bother to appear weakened in any sort unless he was enclosed by walls and safe from the ever judging eyes of others.

He followed him in long strides, closing up on him. He opened the door to his families residence, who were all asleep. They could talk in peace for as long as Nozel needed. He had made sure of that.

Before the tall man let Nozel, he turned around once more.

     “Before I forget it, Congratulations Nozel”

Nozel looked him in the eyes. This was a true, well meant statement, far different from the many hollow and empty ones he has heard. He knew that they always had been, coming from Leon he wouldn’t expect it any otherwise.

He felt the warmth from before, somewhere deep inside his chest, supressing the cold heavy numbness.

      “Thank y-“

      “Congratulations to finally being an official old man now, even though your           hair colour has been letting that on for years now”

Nozel pushed himself past the grinning man into the entrance hall, letting out a loud breath through his nose to signalize his annoyance.

But even so, his headache was gone, and he felt as light as an eagle in flight.

[mileheitcity-blog]

Three Days in Iceland

Pre-Trip

I had planned on hitting Iceland on my way to Europe for some time.  It was around 2012 that I first heard of the extended layover on Icelandair, but never really thought to look much into it, at least until I had a reason to.  Study abroad finally gave me that reason. Turns out you can stay up to seven days in Iceland on your way to wherever you want to go without incurring extra service fees.  Combine that with relatively cheap airfare and it seemed like the easiest way to beat jetlag and see somewhere new.  I figured a place like Iceland would be a little expensive, and not wanting to blow my entire wallet before I even hit Amsterdam, I decided on a three day layover.  It seemed like enough time to see some of Western Iceland and maybe get a feel for the place.  I made sure to pack for some outdoors: raincoat, hiking shoes, swimsuit, sweatshirts.  When researching places to stay, I found my hunch about price was correct: Iceland was more than a little expensive.  Staying in Reykjavik was out of the question, so instead I found a guesthouse in the village of Akranes, about 45 minutes up the road. After the quarter ended in early June, I flew to Denver to see my parents and tie up some important loose ends before my trip.  On June 17, I caught my first flight from Denver International Airport and tried to sleep on the seven hour flight to Keflavik.

Day 1

Our flight was a little late getting out of Denver, so we landed at around 9:30 local time in Iceland.  Running on about 3.5 hours of sleep, I got my rental car and headed straight for my 11:00 appointment at the Blue Lagoon.  I was running about an hour late, of course, but they didn’t seem to mind at all.  In fact, it was one of the best customer service experiences I’ve ever had.  If I went down the wrong hallway, they immediately pointed me in the right direction or let me through with my wristband anyway.  The sushi I had was nourishing after all that time in the air.  The water was nothing short of spectacular: milky white, warm and relaxing.  Two steam baths and a sauna were open and accessible in the corner and both were quite necessary.  One kiosk on the left hand side sold mud masks, like the Dead Sea, and offered a silica one for free.  Two rounds of the silica mask made the skin on my face feel as happy as it had been in years.  Another kiosk in the corner sold beer and drinks, so I got the Icelandic national brew: Gull.  Drinking and driving in Iceland is strictly forbidden, so I wanted to make sure to limit myself to only two drinks on my trip, this being one of them.  I’ll get to the other one later.  Gull isn’t too bad, but not too great.  Something of a standard macro lager, a few shades better than Rainier.  Enjoying my drink slowly allowed me to make friends with some folks around me from the Pacific Northwest, which definitely made the transition to a foreign land a little easier.  My only regret from a place like this is that eventually you’ll have to leave.  But I’ll be back...

Feeling refreshed, relaxed, and sobered up from my one beer, I hopped in the car and went to Reykjavik.  It’s a fairly small city: you can see much of the main areas in a day.  The main landmark in the city is Halgrimskirkja: the cathedral of the Church of Iceland.  It’s fairly impressive, with a really cool looking pipe organ and a statue of Leif Erikson in front.  I had forgotten he was of Iceland, that his father was Erik the Red.  Not far from Halgrimskirkja was the Laugevegur, the main restaurant and shopping district.  It was along this street that I knew where to find my second and final drink in Iceland.  Many of the hot spots along this street carried oddly American names: the Chuck Norris Grill, a pub called Boston that looked like it was taken directly out of Cheers. I finally came upon the one I wanted: Lebowskibar.  It was absolutely kitsch, sure, but I’m a sucker for anything to do with The Big Lebowski.  I had to have my White Russian, and a “hell of a Caucasian” it was.

About 3000 ISK later, I took a short walk to the Icelandic Punk Museum to sober up a bit, but it was nothing special.   The coolest thing there was a little joke at Hitler’s expense, which is never a bad thing. After the Punk Museum it was time to head on up to Akranes.  There was no one at the desk, but my key was waiting for me inside, with the sun still shining at around 10pm.  I took a walk down to the lighthouse at the end of town to catch the closest thing Iceland has to a summer sunset, and caught the midnight sun as I got back to the guesthouse for the night.  A solid day one.

Day 2

Got a late start after sleeping off the jetlag and went right for what I really came for: Hákarl.  I knew that fermented shark was pretty gnarly, but I wasn’t gonna miss it. The spot to go find shark is on the Snæfellsnes Peninsula at the  Bjarnarhöfn Shark Museum.  The museum is located pretty well out in the middle of nowhere, about two hours up the road from Akranes. I didn’t get on the road until almost noon, so I thought I was out of time.  I quickly grabbed a cup of coffee and a full tank of gas (around 250ISK per litre!) found my way.  I found out later I had quite a bit of sunlight to work with. The Shark Museum itself is a small house on a windswept headland on the northern side of the peninsula.  A spectacular view.  Undaunted, I paid my 1000 ISK to see the place.  The museum itself is a rather eclectic collection of maritime memorabilia and Icelandic antiques.  The collection seemed almost unorganized, but I wasn’t there for the collection, I was there for the shark.  The presentation was short, but interesting: a burly Icelander explains how the shark is poisonous when eaten fresh because it doesn’t process urine, so they have to basically let the thing rot in wooden tubs before letting it dry out back for a while, leading to its notorious smell.  The smell can best be described as a mix of ammonia and urine, which makes sense, and though it is indeed quite foul it’s not nearly as strong or permeating as I expected it to be.  It tasted much better than it smelled: like a slightly buttery fish, nothing too offensive.  After a short peek at the collection, the burly Icelander directs you to the drying house out back.  That’s where the magic happens, and the food gets its stinky reputation. Where the fish was pretty mild, the drying house is extremely pungent and stings your nose.  The visual appearance of the shark as its cured is no more appealing: brown, crusty, and oozing with liquid.  Overall though, the shark wasn’t too bad.  A man in need could almost make a meal out of the stuff, and definitely could make a side dish.

Next stop was Kirkjufell and the town of Grundarfjörður about 30 minutes further out along the peninsula.  Kirkjufell was featured on seasons six and seven of Game of Thrones, which was totally why I wanted to see it and not because it was a symbol of Iceland.  But that was a nice perk too.  I grabbed a hot dog in  Grundarfjörður and found a nice little cafe that was also a small library, a great find along the trail.  The mountain itself is impressive, and the nearby stream is fed by a sprawling waterfall across the highway. Very picturesque.  

My third and final stop was the Vatnshellir Cave on the far end of the peninsula, about another hour out.  I pull in at around 17:50, about ten minutes before they close for the day, and this place is remote.  I mean even the WiFi router I brought in the car with me, the one that worked for my entire Iceland trip, couldn’t find anything out there.  If there was an “end of the Earth”, this was it.  The cave itself is an experience onto itself.  They fit you with a helmet and a flashlight, and a friendly guide takes you down a long spiral metal staircase made slick by constant water dripping through the soil.  The cave was created by a volcanic explosion, like pretty much everything else on this island, and is layered with eons of nature’s bidding.  Afteer some time exploring the worn lava rock, you go down another staircase: this one even longer (about 40 meters) and slicker.  At the end of the cave tour, the guide has us all close our eyes and turn out our lights. When we open them, all language barriers between the tour group disappears with a loud “whoa!” in relative unison as we all process the complete lack of light.  Pitch black has new meaning there.  The darkness is absolute, whole, enveloping.  There really isn’t a way to describe just how dark it is with absolutely no sunlight whatsoever.  After a few meditative minutes we all climbed back up, glad we had made the trek down.  On the way out, I happened upon what looked like the keeper of the lighthouse at the end of the jetty lowering the Icelandic flag for the night.  Felt like the perfect symbol to cap off a truly Icelandic day.  

Day 3

My final day in Iceland I wanted to pack in anything else I missed before I took off to Amsterdam.  I got up and headed straight back too Reykjavik.  The Alþingi building is beautiful from the outside, and claims to be the oldest active parliament in the world, however, they had no tours for the day.  Undaunted, I stumbled to the Settlement Exhibition up the street, colloquially called 871+- 2, in reference to the probably year Iceland was first settled by Vikings, within a range of a year or two. The Settlement Museum is very interactive, and contains replica models of some of the houses the original settlers built.  The Settlement Exhibition is part of a museum network with two others, of which I only went to one: the oldest extant house in Reykjavik.  The house held a small photo exhibition of Icelandic life in 1918, and was fairly well curated.  

My second stop of the day was...shall we say a little different: the Icelandic Phallocalogical Museum.  This guy, for some reason, had a large curated collection of animal penises, and somehow found it within himself to mount and display them in a complete museum dedicated to his collection. There are large penises, like that of a blue whale, and small penises, like that of a hamster. He even has a couple of bronze casts of human penises.  The voice on the audio guide never explains why he has such a collection, and why he decided to display it on the wall for everyone to see, but boy does he go into detail about each penis.  Far more than I wanted to know, but still worth a chuckle.  

The Icelandic Rock and Roll Museum was only 30 more minutes down the road in Reykjanesbær , and contained a well curated mix of materials dating back to the early days and some bands I had never heard of. I mostly just went to geek on bunch of Björk and Sigur Rós and Of Monsters and Men.  The collection did not disappoint.  The museum was interactive, and even had a karaoke booth (that wasn’t soundproof, as I found out later).  I was able to get my fill of guitars and strange costumes and even a band made out of wood.  Fans of MoPop in Seattle (formerly known as the Experience Music Project) might be a little underwhelmed, but this was a fun tribute to the fascinating music history of such a tiny place. I may have spent a little too much time and energy in the karaoke room singing some of my favorites; the woman working at the desk barged in about halfway through song six (I think?) to tell me the room wasn’t soundproof. Oops.

My next two stops were a bit far away, and it was already 3pm, so I needed to hit the road. Only about nine more hours of sunlight.  Reykjadalur Hot Springs got some rave reviews on YouTube, and was only about 90 minutes up the road. Or so I thought.  The parking lot sits down at the bottom of a steep mountain pass near the town of Hveragerði.  A little coffee shop greets visitors, but it had shut down for the day.  It was pretty chili outside so I grabbed my sweatshirt for what I thought was a short walk to the river. Turns out the springs itself is a three kilometer walk up the hill.  And people swim in the river.  I immediately regretted forgetting both my hiking shoes and my swimsuit.  The hike up to the springs is stunning.  Sweeping valleys and steep canyons give way to open fields full of sheep.  So many sheep.  They graze in the valley, drink some of the colder water downstream, and even walk right up towards the trail for the freshest grass.  Off in the distance steam literally billows out of the earth.  The only time I’ve ever seen anything like it was at Yellowstone, but this was different. It was....quiet. Peaceful. The smell of sulfur carries with the wind.  Near the end of the hike, you walk right through one of those steam vents, which was somehow simultaneously refreshing and blinding.  The hot springs themselves are more like a spot in the river.  Something in the soil is volcanic, so the ground heats the water to some naturally balmy temperatures. The bathing area is nearly the opposite of the Blue Lagoon.  There are no amenities, there is no one bringing you a drink or offering you a mud mask.  There are no saunas or steam baths, or any real facilities of any kind for that matter. Not a roof in sight, not even a restroom.  Only a few privacy barriers indicated a potential spot to change out.    I wasn’t exactly prepared for a full swim, so I took my shoes off and soaked my aching feet a while.  The hot mineral water was quite soothing, really softened up the calluses.

The hike up and down created quite an appetite.  I saw a sign on the road back to the main highway for a pizza bar and geothermal brewery: Ölverk. Good enough for me. The place was a little fancier than I expected, but the food and service were both really delicious.  Got a pizza with dates, bacon, and blue cheese on it, and it’s probably the only pizza with fruit I’d do again.  I passed on the beer: around 2700 ISK for a taster flight of four, 4000 ISK for a draft pour. Makes the ballpark seem cheap. Turns out the geothermal thing was just how they generated their power anyway, which is kinda cool I suppose, but that’s how they generate much of their electricity there. That’s like saying a brewery in Seattle is hydroelectric powered.  It was getting late in the day at this point, but my friend recommended I hit a spot a little further up the road: Kerið Crater. It’s a sinkhole, but an impressive one.  The parking lot backs right up to the crater, and there’s a short hike around and a staircase to the bottom.  At the bottom is a pool of clean, cool groundwater. Like everywhere else in that country, it was created by volcanic activity.  Some kind of sinkhole type process. I took the staircase to the bottom, took a drink of the water (tasted great!), and had a lovely conversation with some folks from Russia.  A chat with some folks from the other side of the world seemed like a good way to transition to the next portion of my trip.  I took a windy route back through the southern portion of Þingvellir National Park, but it was around 10:30pm at that point so I knew I needed to drive the couple hours back to Akranes to make my flight.  The back roads were wide open and peaceful: for kilometers on end I might have been the only person.  There was also some gravel, but some experience living in the Colorado mountains served me well.  I cranked up the tunes and thought wistfully of the summer ahead of me.  Amsterdam, I’m ready.

Final Thoughts

Iceland is a place unto itself.  My only regret is that I didn’t allow myself one more day.  More than that though, oof.  It gets expensive.  Outside of Reykjavik is extremely rural and provincial, and Reykjavik is indeed lovely, but not exactly the most cosmopolitan or bustling city. I would go back, and would recommend it to almost everyone, but unless you plan on doing some hardcore expeditions you can see pretty much everything in three to four days.  For me, it served its purpose: I relaxed at the Blue Lagoon, ate Hákarl, slept off the jetlag, and adjusted to some of the differences of European culture.  Overall, a lovely experience. Oh, and be aware the tap water smells like sulfur.

[vennilavee]

lost in Japan

Pairing: lance tucker x poc reader

Summary: lance is away at the olympics and you feel his absence.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of smut

Word Count: 2383

A/N: I can’t get this dude outta my head lmao. listen to 3:15 by bazzi for a prelude to this. then listen to lost in japan by shawn mendes. sorry if my tenses are off, that always messes me up no matter how many times I re-read before I post. enjoy, thanks for being here

Nights before Lance has to leave are always the hardest for both of you. He thinks maybe, just maybe, if he stays awake as long as he can, he never has to leave you. And he can just stay in your arms, waiting for a time that will never come.

But time does come as he gives you something slow, and sweet to remember him by early in the morning before he has to leave. Lance’s touches are slow and electric, lazy and charged, his movements into you languid as his hands cup your face. Despite his unhurried movements, he has you reaching new heights and seeing stars with whispers of his name on your tongue.

For someone who was a self-proclaimed asshole, he sure was sweet and tender with you.

You help him pack for the remainder of the morning, sneaking in more than a few kisses that resulted in another round of sex on the couch. 

You take him to the airport, never letting go of his hand the entire drive there.

Lance gives you a big kiss just before the gate, lifting you up in his arms and you yelped in his arms but respond immediately, feeling everyone at the airport melt away from the both of you. His team cheers behind you and you pull away, a little dazed.

“Something to remember me by,” Lance winks at you, “I’m so romantic, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, right,” You roll your eyes with a smirk, “The only thing more romantic than that is if you proposed to me right now.”

“I love you, princess,” Lance says earnestly, kissing your forehead. He ignores the calls of his name from behind him.

“Good luck, baby. I’ll be watching. Be safe, call me when you land?” You suddenly feel vulnerable. He gives you one last hug and kisses your hair again before making his way over to the gate. 

He gives you one last wave, and turns around, knowing that if he sees your doe eyes, he wouldn’t be able to resist dragging you along with him.

Distance used to just be a word for you- a word to define how far a place was from another place. Distance was a word you used usually to describe places, not people. Even when you spent weeks, months away from your family, you didn’t really feel it. Of course, you missed them, but not in that bone crushing way that made your heart ache in your chest at the mere thought of their voices.

No, that was reserved for Lance Tucker. You both had recently moved in together, deciding that the original distance between the two of you was too much. You had picked up your things and moved into a new apartment with him near the training gym that Lance had become head coach of gymnastics at.

The decision to leave wasn’t even really much of a debate, to your surprise. You hadn’t hesitated when he broached the subject. Lance was half of your heart now, and any sacrifice you made for him wasn’t truly a sacrifice. Because you loved him, and you would never hold it against him. 

The old, single you would probably have scoffed at the current you. Independence was a label you wore proudly. You still were independent, but in a different way. In the way that you had learned how to exist in a long distance relationship while giving both him and yourself what you both needed. Lance has taught you so much about yourself. He has showed you hidden gems and treasures about yourself that he has proudly pulled out of you. Treasures that you didn’t even think you had.

It was serious. That scared you at first, causing you to shirk away from him a little bit, initially. But he knew you better than you did apparently, because he had given you space for a little bit before confessing to you that he was in this for the long haul, if you were.

Lance was a different person, too. He knew within the first month of dating you that he was in this for the long haul. You both had been surprised when he was the first one to say ‘I love you’- it had slipped out when you had tried your hand at baking brownies for his entire gymnastics team. 

Of course, they came out terribly, but he made his team pretend to enjoy the taste of your sugary cardboard, for your benefit. At least out of the pair of them, one of them could cook- and it wasn’t you.

Lance was in Tokyo for the Olympics this year and you were so incredibly jealous- you have always wanted to go to Japan. He had begged you to come but you couldn’t leave work for that long.

FaceTime wasn’t enough, phone calls weren’t enough, pictures weren’t enough. You feel his absence the most when you slept at night. The apartment didn’t feel right without him in it and your bed was empty without him next to you to hold you close to him.

He was your very own space heater, after all.

Hanging up with him during your last FaceTime call had been particularly painful for you. Your schedules only seemed to match up when it was late at night for you and mid afternoon for him. Lance felt bad keeping you awake, but you didn’t care. 

“How are the girls doing? Keeping them hydrated and happy?” You asked with a yawn. You’ve wrapped yourself in one of his hoodies and are laying on his side of the bed. His scent is barely there, but you lay there anyway. It still gives you comfort.

“They’re nervous. Excited but nervous,” Lance said. You heard his own nerves in his voice and you wish you were there with him to soothe them.

“They’re going to shine, Tuck,” You reassured him with a smile, “You’re their teacher after all.”

“They miss you, you know. Keep buggin’ me about why I didn’t bring you with me. Leila said she misses your brownies,” Lance snickered and you feigned hurt.

“Hey! My brownies are good!” You protested with a pout.

“Don’t pout at me, baby girl,” Lance murmured, “Makes me wish I could kiss you.”

“For the last time, I’m not having phone sex with you,” You said with a giggle. 

“I wasn’t trying to-” Lance sighed, “Okay, maybe a little bit.” 

Your smile faded slowly and you sighed heavily.

“I really miss you. My heart misses you,” You said sleepily, “You’re my whole heart, you know that right?”

“You’re my whole heart, princess,” He said, wishing you could be with him, “I love you.”

Before you knew it, tears sprung into your eyes and trickled down your face. It’s only been two weeks, and you’ve gone longer without seeing him. But this time just feels worse, somehow.

You had made the decision right then that you were going to surprise him in Tokyo. The thought makes you sleep a little easier, and when you wake up the next morning, the first thing you do is purchase plane tickets for the next flight you can take out to Japan.

Lance is cranky, to say the least. It takes almost all of his self-control to stop himself from snapping at his girls, at his staff, at everyone. They all look at him with a mixture of pity and annoyance. They know his attitude is because of your absence.

It doesn’t help that when he tried calling you, since the mere sound of your voice always calmed him down, you hadn’t picked up. He almost chucked his phone at the wall but restrained himself. 

Maybe you were just busy at work, he thinks to himself. Or maybe, you decided that you couldn’t do this anymore- the distance was too much.

No, he forces himself to steer away from that train of thought. You would never do him dirty like that. He trusts you, he loves you.

Lance repeats those words to himself in his head like a mantra, waiting for you to call him back.

Hours go by, and you still haven’t called him back. Lance is annoyed, taking out his irritation on his girls. You’d scold him for doing so. But you won’t even answer his texts or his phone calls. So he sits in his room and pouts, staring at his phone as if it’s wronged him.

Tokyo is absolutely breathtaking, you decide as you scan the city from the airport windows. It’s around 1:15 AM local time when you’ve landed and the city lights are comforting and encouraging, despite you being alone in a brand new city. 

The airport itself is frenetic with energy, people pushing past you quickly while you soak all of it in. You’re a little tired from being unable to sleep properly on the flight, but you barely feel it because you’re bouncing off the walls with excitement at being able to see Lance soon.

You probably stick out like a sore thumb, with cluelessness painted all over your face. You’ve managed to call Lance’s assistant ahead of time so that he could let you into the Olympic Village undetected. You expect to be thoroughly checked through security prior to arriving to the village, since you hadn’t arrived with the rest of the team.

You don’t care though, because that means you’re one step closer to being with Lance. Giddiness bursts in your chest at that thought.

It’s nearing 2:30 AM local time by the time you’re knocking on Lance’s door. The exhaustion is catching up to you now, but your heart is racing in anticipation. Something warm spreads throughout you as your knuckles rapping against the door in nervousness.

You wait a minute and frown when you hear no movement behind the door. Lance wasn’t that heavy of a sleeper. You knock again, a little louder while dialing his number on your phone. You hear his ringer go off and he’s probably groaning at the sound. But he answers-

“Hello?” Lance’s voices is hoarse with fatigue. You knock again, whispering a soft greeting so he doesn’t know you’re behind the door. He can barely hear you, but he’s still adjusting to all the noises around him.

He grumbles, cursing under his breath before he throws the door open, ready to curse whoever is knocking at his door at 2:30 AM into oblivion. 

But it’s you. Lance blinks at you with wide eyes, the neurons in his brain firing slower than usual. It’s you- your curly hair is tied up in a ponytail, you’re wearing one of his hoodies and a suitcase is standing on your right side. Your brown eyes are tinged with fatigue, your glasses sliding down your nose, but your smile is shy.

It’s really you. 

“You got plans tonight, baby?” You ask meekly. Lance yanks you to him by your forearm and you squeak, before he crushes you to his chest. His embrace is so tight that you need a minute to breathe. But this is your favorite place to be. 

He’s the missing puzzle piece that you’ve been looking for.

It’s only been two weeks, two very long weeks, but he feels your absence even more now that you’re in his arms.

“How did you- what are you- how was your flight?” He tugs your suitcase into his room, refusing to take his eyes off of you. The dark circles under his eyes are prominent, and you know he’s been stressed. 

“Long,” You reply, “I was a couple hundred miles from Japan and I... just couldn’t get you off my mind.” It was corny, but it was true. 

Lance presses his lips to yours hastily and you sigh contentedly, letting him push you up against the wall behind you. He lifts you up easily and your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him closer to you. He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours, trailing a finger down your jawline.

“You need to sleep, boo,” You whisper, “I didn’t mean to wake you-”

He shushes you with a kiss but you feel bad, you really do.

“You missed my dick so much that you flew all the way out here?” He teases you with a smirk.

“Yeah, I flew three-thousand or so miles because of your stroke game, Tuck,” You roll your eyes fondly, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I missed you, too,” Lance murmurs, his hands roaming your sides, under your shirt, “I was mad at you today.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” You ask curiously, raking your fingers through his hair. You missed this.

“You didn’t answer any of my phone calls,” He pouts at you and you laugh. 

“Don’t pout at me, baby. Makes me wish I could kiss you,” You mimic his words from the other night, “I hope you haven’t been annoying with the girls. You’re a menace when you’re cranky.”

“That’s so incredibly rude,” Lance says, pretending to be affronted. You kiss his cheek and leave his embrace, telling him that you’re going to take a shower to wash off the plane ride. You force him to get back into bed and at least close his eyes a little before you get in the shower. He protests, wanting to join you, but you lock the door behind you.

You know he’ll be awake waiting for you, so you make it quick. By the end of your shower, your heart feels a little more at ease. Your skin smells like him.

Lance moves over for you and you slide into bed next to him. You’ve become so accustomed to the bed you have at home that you have to spend a few moments fidgeting to get comfortable. Lance tucks you under him and envelopes you with more than half of his body. His head is in the crook of your neck, his hands loosely on your waist. You hum happily under him, your hands trailing up and down his bare chest. Your fingers travel up to his hair, and his eyes begin to close as you play with his hair. That always gets him to sleep quickly.

You allow yourself to sleep when you hear his breaths even out against your neck. You both sleep better than you’ve slept in days.

[lahijadelmundo]

PARAGUAY – ÑAMONGARU

Ñamongaru – this is a word in the Guarani language, which is one of the national languages of Paraguay. It is being used when in conversation two people or more are agreeing on the same thing or have felt the same. The word can be used, and an action might follow after that. It might be also used to promise something.

The flag of Paraguay

The emotion of going back to Latin America after 4,5 years was indescribably big. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but the fact that I will be there again, no matter what happens, was enough to make me really excited.

My friend Julia invite me on a Erasmus+ project, called “Entrepreneurship Skills 4 Youth” which was happening for 21 months now with various activities as job shadowing, training courses and youth exchanges between the countries of Spain, Italy, Paraguay, Uruguay, Belgium, Bulgaria, Chile and Argentina and financed completely by the European Commission. I was lucky to be part of the last training course in Calabria, Italy and now, on the final Conference and biggest youth exchange in Paraguay, where 5 participants of each country took part in.

Our group of 5 Bulgarians started the trip from Madrid, waking up at 5am to take a transatlantic flight with Air China. All good until the moment when we somehow realized (as the crew wasn´t speaking very well English?!) that the plane must go back as of hydraulic problems. So, after 3 hours of flight over the Atlantic Ocean we turned around to go back to Madrid. At some point there was water coming out from the fin of the airplane. The moment we landed the whole plane was applauding the pilot that he brought us back alive. (Although this manner with the final applause is usual among the Bulgarian population, every time it flies, curious fact, I think). The fact that we were at the point where we started was exhausting enough. After hanging for hours at the airport with no information and some vouchers for junk food, we were finally brought to a hotel where we were told to wait until the plain is fixed and we can fly again. It was a false alarm to pack again and jump into the bus again to take us to the airport, as we have found out, that the plain wasn´t fixed yet…. Back to do the line for check in in the hotel (let us not forget, that the whole plain was checking in in the hotel). At least we got some good sleep and in the morning we had to wait again (with no information provided, again). Later, the bus came and brought us to the airport.

Who would know that this initial, full of stress adventure, will mark our travels? Our friends from the project were joking, that we are bringing the bad luck in the group, but it was no joke that many more crazy and inconvenient things happened - we are laughing about the fact that someone cursed us (maybe not really consciously :D)

Our Bulgarian group in front of the waterfalls, Brazilian side

After many, many hours we finally reached the most gorgeous place in Paraguay -  the biological reserve Tatí Yupí.   It is situated in the district of Hernandarias, Alto Paraná Department and located on the right bank of the Paraná river. The reserve is one of 8 sites earmarked as the ecological reserve by the Itaipu, the largest dam in production in the world, located between Paraguay and Brazil. (The story about the dam later in this post!). When we arrived in the reserve, the only thing we wanted was to sleep. I really don´t remember the last time I went to bed at 9pm and the fact that there was a party and an opera singer in front of our dorm of 20 beds (top and down, unsecured and without a ladder) wasn´t bothering us much, we slept like babies. I woke up naturally at 5am because of the time difference and took a walk towards the river. So peaceful. I was thinking the whole time – I am in heaven. After a chaotic everyday life in a polluted and frenetic big city, being in Tatí Yupí felt like magic to me and something I have been waiting for a long time now. I went to the river dock where at 5:30 I saw the sunrise watching towards Paraná river. I wished I could stay at least for a month in this paradise, but as you know not all wishes come true because of various reasons. We enjoyed for a pretty short time the wild, gorgeous mammals walking around freely (like monkeys and coatis) and the amazing subtropical flora, as we had to go back to reside in Ciudad del Este in a random hotel. Now the reasons for that I will spear, as the whole story pisses me off. :D

Coatis in their natural habitat

Ciudad del Este has nothing much to impress with, as it is an industrial city with much of a trading activity as a border town to Argentina and Brazil. I need to always remind myself, that Ciudad del Este does not represent whole Paraguay, as much difficult it is to imagine that, as we have spent most of the time there. We had some fun nights out and got closer with all participants day by day. We had some great dynamics of getting to know each other, starting with games to remember our names and continuing playing games all night in the reserve.  After our first night out, we stayed until sunrise, still drinking, went straight away to breakfast and then woke up to go to the Itaipu dam.  As mentioned before, this is the largest hydroelectric dam on the Paraná River located on the border between Brazil and Paraguay. We went there at midday, all pretty tired from last night, after waiting quite some time again, we realized, that we were late to catch the latest day visit of the dam. (It is important to mention, that all things, that failed to happen on this trip, were mostly because we were late for some reasons as f.e. the drivers were always late or (spoiler alert!) never appeared :D). Most of the group decided to go back to the hotel to take a rest, before we can visit the dam at night and some of us stayed on a cute little beach called Costanera de Hernandarias where we saw the sunset and had the chance to relax. 

Costanera de Hernandarias

Тhat moment of rest was like a sip of fresh air, as our program continued being filled up with activities and we all wanted to spend as much time as we could together. We were still very tired as we came back to the point to see the light show at the electric dam. And we still waited. I was craving to sleep already; the exhaustion was huge. We were loling so hard after the “breathtaking” light show that lasted no more than couple of minutes and for which we waited literally all day long.

Itaipu Dam

But HEY, this is Paraguay. We have been training our patience big time, as waiting turned out to be the national sport there. We also had a motto “No tengo ni idea” Which means – “I have literally no idea”. That was the most probable answer to many of the questions asked in general. As much as we learned to don´t get angry if something is not functioning, the fact, that we missed out 2 nights of partying just to get up very early, so that we can go the Iguazu falls and the bus organized for us did not come at all, was frustrating so all the hopes, all the plans, all the waiting… in the garbage bin :D

The day we managed to reach the Argentinian side of the waterfalls started with almost no waiting (just 20 minutes) and everything seemed wonderful by then. (About the majesty and the natural wonder itself embodied by the waterfalls I will dedicate my next blog post, because the falls and their charm deserved to be described separately.) 

Iguazu Falls

The moment we did the boat tour, though, it started raining. Really hard. At some point it even started to hail. We were just having bikinis and light clothing on, as you get completely wet under the waterfalls. It was a slight storm in the river, even the boat needed to stop, as nothing was visible. All of us were covering our bodies with the waterproof bags we had, where we have put our valuables – the only thing which helped to cover us a bit. At some moment I was just taking deep breaths and was thinking “relax, it is going to be ok”.  We saw some caimans relaxing on the sand while we were disembarking the boat, thinking “hmmm, we would have made a nice breakfast for these buddies if the boat turned down occasionally”. We reached the starting position, but as the rain did not stop for a very long time we boarded an off-road bus which was the only way to go back, so half an hour more in the pouring rain while in the bus. (That was a roofless bus). And THAT was kind of crazy. No, wait a minute. That was beyond crazy. We were shouting pumped up with adrenaline to feel less the cold. My body was already shaking big time. The moment we dropped off my friend Maria and I gave up on the last part of the tour as we were soaking wet and the only thing we dreamt of was warmth and drought. We bought a T-Shirt as a souvenir, but that was more like a saving lives thing, as the most of us have not planned to take extra clothes. Finally, couple of hours later, when we made ourselves on the way home, some strange “eco-tourism” guys in Argentina stopped the bus and told us that all foreigners have to pay a certain fee, just because of the fact that we are foreigners. All the information provided was peculiar enough for us to refuse to pay, which caused unfortunately more circumstances as the police came and told the driver that he was lacking some documents of the bus, so the vehicle has to be let there and we were thrown out short before the Brazilian border with no idea how to get back to Paraguay (to go back there one shall still cross Brazilian border first in order to cross the so called Friendship Bridge to get to Ciudad del Este). In this crisis situation we were told from our organisators to walk toward a hotel in the middle of nowhere in a forest during the night and to wait there until cars will pick us up. We did not know whether to cry or laugh after all this. As it was somehow an extreme situation, there were tensions between us, but this is normal, when people are not used to situation like this, they have difficulties to stay calm. After we got some water, food and blankets in this hotel we felt again like humans and almost knew how a refugee feels like. The top of the cake was, that when we reached after hours our hotel, our suitcases were left in the Tatí Yupí reserve, as it was planned for us to reach there by night on the first place. There was no chance to go there for one reason or another (``no tengo ni idea``), so practically we stayed in the hotel with the soaked clothes we had on until the next day, when our stuff was brought back.

In the end of our stay, after saying emotional goodbyes, our Bulgarian group was brought the last to the bus station (respectively waited the longest :D), as we needed to catch a bus to Foz do Iguaçu. It turned out, that we have missed the last bus to the city. Nothing can surprise us anyways after all what we have been through. But bad things happen for good, at the end our organizer payed us a taxi to reach our hosts - we have split in two groups and did couch surfing. The half of us had a good experience, the other half landed in a miserable, stinky place with no windows, full of fleas and dogs barking, with a miserable one sofa for two people to sleep on. They have switched to a hostel after getting uber twice -  first to get to our place to get some WiFi and secondly to reach the hostel. The next day the other half of us booked the hostel as well to stay together. Marco das Tres Fronteiras, Eating Açaí Icecream and visiting the local gasolinera for a night party was on the program that last day for us in Brasil.

Marco das Tres Fronteiras 

The journey ended as it started though, I had to wake up after 2.5 hours of sleep and catch a plain from Foz to São Paulo, where I waited for 10 hours to catch a 10 hours transatlantic flight to Madrid, to wait there 12 hours again to catch a 4 hours Ryan Air flight to Sofia. It was soooooo surreal reaching Sofia, it was hard realizing where we were. And don’t ask me how we survived. Worst part was that our Friend Julia had to stay in São Paulo for one more day, as they fucked up something with her flight. Oh, not to forget as well, that they have switched her bag with the bad of another friend, while checking in so she stayed there with her stuff flying away towards Europe.

Hard to believe that all this and much more happened during last two weeks and it was hard to come back to cold Sofia, without all this 40 wonderful people around. These stories above are fun to tell, but the sensationalism will fade with  with time. As one of our Spanish friends said – the people have marked me more than all the mud in the ecological reserve (and this mud does not wash away, by the way). I feel the best when I am in a multicultural environment, it just feels home. All the obstacles and problems we had made us more united, closer and stronger. Despite the extreme situations and all the suffering, we created an amazing and strong connection and this will surely be the seed to something great in the future. All of us had something to give an teach to the rest and it was a remarkable experience overall!!!

Our lovely group

I want to learn Guarani or another indigenous language! I want to learn how to animate a big group of people!  I want to learn how to empower local youth and give it sense of belonging! I want to learn how to create things with my own hands! I want to deepen my knowledge in intercultural communication! I want to learn more about the cities of the future and to get even more familiar with the digital word and social entrepreneurship! I want to meet again all these wonderful people, learn and share with them! I will never forget the awesome moments we had. After all, going back to Latin America has covered my expectations and left me with inspiration and excitement about mutual future projects, that we might work on together.

I am sipping out from my tereré (infusion of yerba mate, similar to mate but prepared with cold water and ice rather than with hot, and in a slightly larger vessel) right now, feeling in the past days and I just want to to say to all my new encounters: “Te veo y veo la belleza, que hay en ti.  Ñamongaru.”

Tereré

[20straveling]

9.20.18 ~ Ireland

As some of you are aware, I have achieved my singular most important life goal – and at the age of 23, what an accomplishment! I have traveled to Ireland. If you’ve been reading my blog, or if you’ve known me at all in real life, you may have the slight inkling that I have an obsession and deep wanderlust for the majesty that is Ireland. Between the exposure to all that is beautiful in the film P.S I Love You (landscape and men included) in my early teens, and the yearlong research project into the art styles and history of monastic life in my senior year of college, I am thoroughly and irrevocably obsessed with that country.

Last month (because it’s somehow half-way through September already), my family and I traveled abroad for the first time together. It was quite the experience. It had been quite some time since we had all traveled on a plane together, and I’m not quite sure how they managed it when we were kids. My father is much more familiar with flying, and I’ve done my fair share in the past few years. My mother and brother, less so. There’s a funny story involving my brother, TSA, and a giant bottle of contact solution, but we’ll leave that be, as I think we’ve over-told it in our real lives, and heaven forbid I spread his mistake online as well (no matter how funny it was, but not at the time).

One of the wise pieces of advice I gave to my family was “sleep on the plane, to confuse your body into being wide awake when we land,” because my father had inadvertently planned our flight to be overnight, which is great, that landed around 5:30AM Dublin time. My thought was “heck yea! lets go explore some stuff!” but my family’s thought was “oh no, where can we take a nap at 5AM?” because, oh dear reader, we could not get into our AirB&B until around noon. So, what do you do in a foreign city for almost 6 hours without wifi to guide you? The answer, for us at least, was to sit in a café for about an hour and use their free wifi to create a plan. So, we created a plan.

See, we were going to drop off bags and walk around Christ Church Cathedral, but plans never go, well, as planned. And we got lost-ish, asked multiple people where things were and realized they knew almost less than we did, and then decided to sit at the bag-drop tourist location until they opened at 8:30. My mom had to muscle her way into the lobby because some woman who arrived 5 minutes before they opened tried to cut in front of the rest of the people that were gathered around their front door area. So much for Irish hospitality! Joking, only joking. Other than the one rude woman, who was probably a tourist herself, every tour guide, and direction-giver, was as nice as could be.

Margret, from our Kilkenny B&B, was in a league of her own when it came to hospitality. She was more than understanding about our confusion when it came to the room arrangements, as we had booked two rooms, with one bed each. She explained that a double room was a full bed, and a twin room was a two bed room – a common misunderstanding when Americans were booking with her apparently. And because we had arrived before all her other guests, she allowed us to switch rooms and it was no hassle at all. She also served us Irish coffee before tucking in for the night, and served the best breakfast that I had during the whole trip – and Irish Breakfast with tomatoes, eggs, sausage, the whole nine. Recommendations, advice, there was nothing Margret wasn’t prepared for, maps included.

A guarantee during any of our family vacations or trips is tours, usually history oriented, and always interesting. Ireland was no different by any means. We toured castles, churches, the Ring of Kerry, and the Cliffs of Moher, as well as the towns and shops along the way. Each place was beautiful, full of stories, and perfectly old in every way. Part of what I love so much about being abroad, beyond the US, is that there is history that reaches beyond the founding of our country and further. Churches stand almost a thousand years old, castles from wars our fore-father’s grandfather’s were a part of, and practices that have stayed the same and thrived for generations. Yes, we have some of this in America, and we’ve created ourselves on the history of those countries we come from, but nothing beats a 900 year old church on a hillside, overlooking an entire valley to the mountains.

Speaking of phenomenal views, some of the best views we had were at the top of the Guinness Storehouse in the Galaxy Bar, the Ring of Kerry (no specifics, I’m obsessed with countryside and national  parks, so I loved it all), and the Cliffs of Moher in all of their stunning, breathtaking beauty. One of my little goals in life is to have one of those large prints above my couch or desk, and someone asks “oh, that’s a great photo, where’d you buy it?” and I get to say “thanks, I took that!” There is something so special, so powerful, in being able capture a moment that you experienced so well that others are able to share part of its splendor. It’s one of the reasons I love taking pictures; I love to share them.

Anywho, moving on now to the silly details and things I can remember off the top of my head, as I don’t have the patience to go through all the photos right now, but would like to tell you more about our trip. One of the great joys was watching the live music being played on the streets of Galway every evening. There was a band, who’s name I cannot remember, but they had such good energy and an awesome mix of instruments and voice styles; I bought one of their CDs, which is currently in my car and played through at least once a week. Oh! The Book of Kells: amazing, very secure, and incredibly detailed (Trinity Library, I want to get married there. That is all.)

Coming home from a trip is always something that I hate to do, but also always necessary. Luckily, the weeks, and months, up-to the trip and following my return home, have been nothing but go go go (which is partially why this post is so late and also why it may seem a bit half-hazard or disorganized, my apologies). I’ve had time to remember and chat about all the good, without feeling like I’m missing out on too much because I have so much going on in my normal life. And, we all know, this won’t be the last trip I take to that majestic green island. But, until then, please ask me questions and ask for photos, because I can’t not talk about how wonderful and beautiful this trip was.

 So, until next time,

 <3 M

 9.20.18