#home of the arts gold coast

[livesunique]

"Haut Bois," Brookville, Long Island, NY, United States

Originally built by Ogden Codman Jr. in 1912,

Landscape was designed by Jacques Greber

[blackcatfilmprod]

Things Hollywood OR Bust Location Tour - Vlog doing this month.

- Seen on the Screen Exhibit at Brisbane Motor Museum

- Touring Film Locations for Boy Swallows Universe

- The Umbilical Brothers at Home of the Arts

[seniouesbabes]

Lily Maymac 🌸🍒💋🌸 Here with @rabanne for AАСТА

@RABANNE @AGENCE SUPREME

[jgsuperiorpainters]

Wallpapering Gold Coast

Looking for professional wallpapering Gold Coast services? JG Superior Painters is your go-to solution for all your wallpaper installation needs. With years of experience and a reputation for exceptional craftsmanship, we offer high-quality wallpaper installation that transforms any space. Whether you want to add elegance to your living room, create a feature wall in your bedroom, or enhance…

[ayo-edebiri]

MARGOT ROBBIE

Attends the 2024 AACTA Awards Presented By Foxtel Group at HOTA (Home of the Arts) on February 10, 2024 in Gold Coast, Australia

[jeridandridge]

I Want Something Bad

This wound needs more salt! College Years installment from anon request 🤍

This shouldn’t be as nerve wracking as it is. The alarm clock on your nightstand ticks away, the moonlight coming through the floor to ceiling window of your bedroom makes you sigh. Melissa was flying in tomorrow afternoon and for some reason you felt sick. Maybe because the last time you saw her it felt like a goodbye. Maybe because six months ago she was married and you were out of the country, unable to face those fears and desires you had regarding the woman.

Tossing and turning you shift to face your nightstand, hand resting on your pillow as you eye the silver picture frame that sits on the dark wood. Melissa had clung to you during graduation that day. Sat together in the chairs your heart jumped into your throat when her fingers laced with yours, eyes forward on the stage of the auditorium. Outside in the sun she wrapped her arms around your waist squeezing you so tightly you were sure you’d be bruised. Six hours later you were driving away in the dark headed back to your childhood home, tears in your eyes and your hands shaking on the wheel at the thought of her going off and marrying someone else. You still wanted her even now.

Morning comes sooner than you’d like it to. The warmth from the morning sun through the window warms you, hoping it was a good omen for the rest of the day. After a shower and a cup of coffee, you feel almost normal again as you get in the car for the Portland airport. During the drive your mind wanders, would Melissa be different now? You hadn’t seen her in almost a year, she was married and set to start teaching with a full life in Philly.

Getting closer to the pick up terminal you can’t help but smile when you see the redhead walking towards the car, sun glasses on and a Philly sweatshirt as always. Pulling into the line you put the car in park, hardly able to get out before Melissa is in front of you wrapping her arms around your neck. The smell of lavender hits your nose and her ring clad fingers bury themselves in your hair.

“Well hi,” you chuckle almost nervously, hands resting on her back.

“Hi yourself, big shot.” The redhead chuckles squeezing you tightly.

Letting go of your best friend you smile when she lifts her sunglasses, finally able to see those gorgeous eyes.

“I’m an intern not a big shot.” You chuckle putting her suitcase in the trunk closing it with a thud. “You ready to see what Portland has to offer?” You grin.

“Let’s get goin, hon.”

Settled in the car Melissa smiles at you, her hand reaching for yours where it rests on the center console. Eyes flicking down from the road you move your hand to reach for the radio,turning it up a bit to drown out the thought of that gold band and the man you despise. You felt as if it would burn if it touched your skin. “I’m happy you’re here finally. You ready to start work next month?”

Eyes on the road you miss the hurt in her eyes as she brings her hand back to her own lap. “I am, Kristin Marie even gave me a mug for my desk.” She chuckles.

“Aw, the wicked witch has a heart.” You tease. The thought of you being on opposite coasts hurt, but now you could throw yourself into your work opting to climb the social ladder at your current art gallery. Even if it was an internship you planned on running elbows with as many higher ups as you could.

The first afternoon and evening with Melissa goes well enough, you take her to your favorite coffee shop and bookstore knowing she’d enjoy the cozy atmosphere. Throughout the day you couldn’t help but dodge every touch she attempted to make on your arm or lower back, so much so that you almost dropped your coffee when her fingers brushed your elbow to rest her hand in the crook of your arm on the walk back to the car. You wanted her, you wanted her bad and you knew you could never have her.

You’ll just have to sit in it for this week.

“Hon, you better let me cook for you while I’m here.” Melissa breaks the comfortable silence as you two stand in the elevator going up to your apartment.

“I can’t turn down a Schemmenti meal.” You chuckle unlocking the door. “I stocked up on groceries last night.”

Inside Melissa goes through the fridge and cabinets pulling out everything she might need for a nice meal. It felt… nice, normal even after so much time spent having awkward phone calls two time zones apart to be moving around the kitchen together. As you wash the vegetables while the redhead prepares sauce, you glance up with a smile.

“So, have you managed to teach Joe how to cook anything yet?”

Melissa scoffs shaking her head. “No, he’s either at work or he comes home and sleeps.”

Turning back to the task at hand you hide your eye roll looking down at the cutting board. Typical. This was the man that threw a fit when he lost at beer pong for crying out loud. Of course he wouldn’t help his wife cook.

Melissa continues to stir, eyes landing on your back boring into your soul.

“I’m surprised you brought him up.”

Glancing over your shoulder you meet jade eyes. Composing yourself you shrug. “He’s your husband, I do know the guy.” You chuckle.

It’s quiet for a moment, the sound of the blade landing on the cutting board with each chop makes your palms start to sweat.

“You don’t like him.” Melissa states plainly, no malice in her voice as she keeps her eyes on the stove.

Biting your cheek you take a breath before lifting your head. “Hey,” you get her attention meeting her eyes with the best smile you can muster. “I’m happy for you, Red. I really am.”

It made you want to vomit saying those words but if it made her happy that’s all you care about. Jade eyes crinkle at the corner just as they always did, and that was the end of that.

Through dinner and the rest of the night you find yourself relaxed with your oldest friend. The tension that had been there is gone, even enough for Melissa to curl up into your side on the couch. Her right hand rests on your Jean clad thigh as you mindlessly watch a sitcom on tv, making comments here and there about the show. You wanted this all the time. You wanted to come home and make dinner with Melissa sod badly. To cuddle up with her on the couch after a long day so badly.

You’re brought out of your love drunken haze when the phone rings on the table behind the couch.

“You gonna get that, hon?”

“No, let it ring.” You hum not caring enough to answer the phone at ten o’clock on a Friday night.

The machine clicks, and a smooth female voice comes out. “Hi, sweetheart! I guess I missed you. I was calling to see if we’re still on for drinks Tuesday night. Give me a call soon, bye!”

As soon as you hear Lena’s voice coming through the speaker you feel Melissa stiffen against your side.

“Well she sounds like fun.” Melissa chuckles with a tight smile.

Keeping your eyes on the tv you shrug. “She’s a curator for the gallery, I’ve been seeing her for a couple weeks.”

“You didn’t tell me?” Melissa pulls back looking at you. “Cmon, hon. What she like?” She asks with a quirked brow.

You’d seen this look before many times all throughout college, she puts a smirk on but the excitement doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Well…” you start off in another cycle you’re sure will continue for as long as you know the redhead.

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Golden Poison Frogs: The Gold Standard

Golden poison frogs (Phyllobates terribilis) are a species of frog found only along the Pacific coast in the Amazon Rainforest of Columbia; their total range encompasses less than 5,000 square km;. Their prime habitat is near rivers, streams, and ponds, but the are able to survive in a variety of microhabitats along the forest floor thanks to the forest's extremely warm, humid climate.

The golden poison frog is perhaps noted for its crowning as the most poisonous species on the planet. A single adult contains enough poison in its skin to kill 2-3 grown humans, although the frog would have to be ingested for its toxins to be fatal. However, there is at least one species of snake, the fire-bellied snake (Erythrolamprus epinephalus) which is immune to the frog's toxins and often predates on juveniles. P. terribilis consumes a variety of insects, but gets its poison from the beetles in its diet, and without them individuals lose their toxicity.

Although tiny, the golden poison frog is hard to miss. They are the largest species of poison frog at a weight of 30 g (1 oz) and a length of 6 cm (2.4 in). Females are usually larger than males. The species is named for the most common color moroph, bright yellow, but populations may also come in green, orange, and white. The coloration is a warning to predators to stay away.

Golden poison frogs are typically active during the day. Members of the same sex are highly territorial, but populations within a small area can be quite large. Individuals defend their territory by calling loudly and performing a push-up motion, which can also serve to attract potential mates. The species can reproduce year-round, and both males and females have multiple partners.

After the female has laid a clutch of about 20 eggs, the male carries them on his back up a tree to a bromeliad or small tree hole filled with water. There the eggs hatch as tadpoles after 11-12 days. The tadpoles feed on algae and insect larvae until they metamorphose into froglets, which takes about 2 months. The froglets take a further year to fully mature, and adults may live for up to 5 years.

Conservation status: P. terribilis is classified as Endangered by the IUCN. The species has a relatively small home range, and is seriously threatened by habitat loss. However, there are many private, government, and NGO captive-bread populations across the globe.

Want to request some art or uncharismatic facts? Just send me proof of donation of any amount to any of the fundraisers on this list, or a Palestinian organization of your choice! Proof does not have to include any personal info– only the date, the amount, and the recipient. Even one dollar can go a long way!

Photos

Victor Fabio Luna-Mora

Micha L. Rieser

Leighton Pritchard

[fanaticsnail]

Ohh, Snail, now I can't stop thinking about you writing that Corazon x AussiReader idea from the fanart you rebloged. Poor sweet baby 🥺 dealing with giant spiders and cute feral angry koalas, nooo, Cora, don't try to hug them, they may look cute, but they will eat your face 😱

Rosinante's Trip Down Under

Masterlist Here

Oh my goodness, Miss Vita! How gorgeous is it, though? Art by @rainnartt (CHECK OUT THEIR OTHER ART, IT'S AMAZING!!)

Synopsis: Modern AU, Rosinante visiting your hometown in Queensland Australia. He is overwhelmed by the cultural differences, but loves to learn the slang.

I did go a little crazy in the tags, definitely ran away with me a little here.

Could you imagine, though? As an Australian, I can confirm: if it looks like it can kill you, it can kill you. If it looks like it can’t kill you, it absolutely can kill you. Our poor, clumsy man never stood much of a chance, did he?

In this picture, he looks like could be in Bondi, the Gold Coast or Surfers Paradise by the looks of it. I am going to put him in the Queensland region for the sake of the plot. This is how I see it going. 

Drabble Fic Word Count: 1,800+

Themes: rosinante x gn!reader, platonic fic, crack fic, modern au, reader is Australian, Rosinante is Spanish, Au he lives.

Tag list: @since-im-already-here @i-am-vita @feral-artistry @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @remisloves @mfreedomstuff @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @carrotsunshine

Taking your new friend Donquixote Rosinante to your favorite sights in Surfers Paradise. His eyes widen in wonder, staring at sights that come so naturally to you, but are so out of the norm for him. You are happy to play tourist in your hometown, marveling at the sights as he experiences them for the first time. 

Outside of your local McDonalds and picking up a common comfort breakfast food for his adult adoptive son, who elected to remain back at home in the hotel as he adjusts to the time difference, Rosinante’s shriek prompted you to turn to meet him.

“What the hell is that?” he remarks, extending his pointer finger towards the large waste bin adjacent to the doorway.

“Oh, that’s a skip, Corazon. The red is for rubbish,” you continue, pointing at the other bin, “The yellow lid is for recyclables, and the green is for food and biodegradable-.”

“No! The thing with the massive beak!” he shrieks, watching as the dark-head bird pokes its head above the bin. The large hooked beak elevates a half-consumed cheeseburger before it gulps down the burger in a single motion.

“Oh!” you laugh at your blonde friend, clapping a hand over his shoulder, “That’s an ibis. We call them ‘bin chickens’ or ‘tip chooks’ depending on your region. They’re scavengers, they won’t hurt you.”

“A bin chicken, skip bin,” he hums, his brow furrowed in deep thought as he commits the name to memory, “And you call McDonalds ‘Macca’s’, right?”

“That’s right,” you hum your confirmation with a curt nod. He hums in response before ushering you along the pathway towards the hotel. 

As you continue walking along the sandy coastline, you notice he’s halted outside a petrol station. A large truck is parked beside the building: checkered blue and white painted on it’s side and large font titled “POLICE” and “0.05: DRUGS”. 

“Is this your local law enforcement?” he asks you, tilting his head to the side. 

“Yeah, that’s our local booze bus parked next to a divvy van,” you nod in affirmation, “They do regular drug and alcohol testing for drivers to ensure their safety on the road. Weird that they’re outside of a servo, though. Usually they’re on the main roads.” He nods his head and hums.

“Booze bus. Divvy Van,” he looks over to the petrol station, arching his brow high, “Servo?” 

“I know, it’s a lot,” you confirm with an apologetic smile, “I promise it gets easier to adapt to the slang the longer you practice.” He nods again. 

Passing a local park with a children’s play area, you manage to see your friend David from work, his two children playing together on the looped climbing frames and plastic slide. 

“Davo!” you call out to him, waving your unoccupied hand in front of you - considering the other contains a paper bag filled with the fruits of your labor. 

“How the bloody hell are’ ya goin’, Darl’?!” his nasally voice cracked to you, “Who’s the fella ya got there with ya?” You smile at him, walking to embrace him.

“This is Rosinante Corazon, the friend I mentioned was visiting from Spain,” you informed him, “How’s the missus back at home? How’s the kids?”

“Mate! Howzit goin’?” he extended his hand out to Rosinante, who placed his hand within and gave it a gentle shake who mumbled a soft ‘pleased to meet you’ in response.

“Ah, and the ankle biters are doin’ great. Givin’ the missus a bit of a reprieve here at the park, tough gig bein’ an ambo driver.” He glanced over his shoulder at his children, ensuring they were safe now they’ve climbed to an elevated height. 

“Oh I’m glad she’s managing to take a break. She’s a tough lady,” you nod to him, smiling over at the two children who wave at you while playing with a make-shift telescope. 

“Well, I shouldn’t keep you,” he confesses, gesturing down to the brown bag clutched in your hands, “Don’t want that brekky gettin’ cold now, do we?” You laugh at him, waving him off before waving at his children. 

Rosinante remained silent, only muttering a few words that stood out to him: “Darl’, fella, mate, missus, ankle biters, ambo driver, brekky,” on a perpetual loop.  

“You okay there, Rosi?” you quirk up at him, a soft smile pulling at your cheeks. 

“I’m alright, Darl,” he attempted, his voice falling to his nose and emulating the accent he heard moments prior, “Is that a common term of endearment here? ‘Darl’ and ‘mate’? How do you go with gender neutral titles?”

“Both of those titles can be used interchangeably, regardless of gender,” you inform him, “It all depends on context and the way you say it.” he hums again, nodding along and muttering several phrases he learnt. He reaches into the circular cup cardboard and pulls out his coffee and takes a small sip. 

Your feet finally carry your way over to the lobby of the hotel where he was staying with Law, his body immediately halting in front of the surf, dive and ski shop. His head cocked to the side, staring at the large, rectangular basket outside the shop. You follow his line of sight, which remained locked on to a large, canvas sign attached to the basket. 

“Ah,” you click your tongue, noticing they’re focussed on a common shoe worn in this area, “Do you and Law need a new pair of thongs? I know the bottoms melt a little when the bitumen gets a bit hot.” 

“You want me and Law to wear what?” he turned towards you with his eyes wide and jaw dropped. It took a moment for you to understand the miscommunication, your eyes growing wide and your nervous laughter propelling your anxiety further. 

“No, no, no, no, no!,” you managed to choke out, “No, we call ‘flip-flops’ ‘thongs’ here. Is that what had you a little confused? A basket full of shoes where you thought lingerie should be?” Rosinante laughed alongside you, shaking his head from side to side.

“You got me,” he chuckled, raising his coffee to his lips once more, “Our differences are quite vast, aren’t they?” 

“I suppose they are,” you acknowledge with a shrug and a broad, tight-lipped smile. He hums once again, muttering several phrases as you step into the elevator. 

Clicking the button to the appropriate floor, the doors open wide to reveal the carpeted corridor of the hotel room. You offer to hold the coffee tray in your unoccupied hand as Rosinante clumsily attempts to fish out his key-card from his pocket. He thanks you, his hand getting stuck in his pocket as he shimmies his shoulders to break it out. 

Finally clutching the key card, he places it in the door and swings it wide to reveal Law sitting on the plush bench beside the large window. His left knee was bent, his right leg extended as he reclined against the window. His gray orbs draw away from watching the gentle crash of waves towards you both as you enter the suite. 

Before you had a moment to greet the younger man, Rosinante’s broad grin and best nasally voice interrupted your train of thought. Rosinante gently took the brown paper bag from your hands and offered it to his son.

“Howzit goin’, Darl’! Brought you some Brekky from Maccas!” he walked forwards, thrusting the bag into Law’s hands, “Saw a bin chicken eating some scraps from the red skip, and passed a booze bus outside the servo on the way back.”

Law chose to remain silent, wordlessly taking the brown bag from Rosinante and maintaining unbreaking eye contact. Rosinante took that as his queue to continue relaying his adventure. 

“Saw Davo being a good fella at the park with his ankle biters, his missus has been working hard as an ambo driver,” he continued, biting his lip as he attempted to relay the trip back to his absolutely unamused son, “Then we passed a shop on the way up. Was gonna get us a pair of matching thongs for the trip, but thought you would get embarrassed to be matching with your Dad.” 

Law’s fingers stuttered their descent into the bag, choosing to take a lengthy breath instead. 

“Dad?” Rosinante quirked his head up, turning to look at you over his shoulder. You were doing your best to stifle your laughter by clutching your lip in your palm, “Do you still call parents ‘mum’ and ‘dad’ here? Is there an Aussie term of endearment he could use for me instead?” 

“‘Cunt’ comes to mind,” Law murmured, prompting Rosinante to snap his head back over to his son. His heart shattered as Law drew up a hashbrown and began nibbling at its golden exterior. 

“L-Law-?” Rosi’s heartbreak was depicted in the quiver in his tone. You walk over to your friend’s side and offer him his forgotten coffee with a smile.

“-Rosinante,” you broke him away from his sorrow with a soft giggle, “‘Cunt’ is also a term of endearment here. Law and I had a little conversation about cultural clashes last night when we were playing cards. You fell asleep early, remember?” 

“It is my favorite Australian term of endearment,” Law admitted with a soft hum, reaching up his outstretched hand to wordlessly ask for a coffee, “But your insults are far better. Quite original.” 

“Okay, Champ,” you mock Law, passing him his cup of coffee, “Big words coming from a guy with a face like a smashed crab.” 

“Coming from a Drongo with the personality of a dropped meat pie,” Law smirked in return, taking the cup from your hands. Your joint laughter ricocheted from the hotel walls, prompting Rosinante’s prior sour mood to pick back up. 

As you all ate your brekky in comfortable silence, you gazed out onto the beach below. Law followed your eyes, looping at the large swell of the waves. The choppy waves crashed against the golden waves, the vendors beginning to set up their canopies to sell their wares along the boardwalk. 

“You did well, Rosinante,” you complimented the tall, blonde man, “Using our words in the appropriate context, I mean.” Rosinante smiled at you, placing his paper rubbish in the brown paper bag.

“Thank you, Mate,” he said with a soft wink, “I appreciate the praise for my efforts.”

“No wakkas, makka,” you smile at him with a shrug. Both men quip their head up, their ears pricking and confusion written on their face. 

“We’ll get into that later, I guess,” you chuckle at the two of them as their confusion deepens.

The large Australian crowd began to take out their surf and boogie boards, set up nets for volleyball, and their wickets for beach cricket. The variety of populus below in various designs bathers, placing sunscreen on their bodies to protect from the deadly UV rays. 

“Beach day?” you ask them, smile drawing up over your features once more.

“Beach day,” Rosinante nods in confirmation, excited to learn more slang and cultural differences as the day broadens its rays over the oceanic backdrop. 

[world-of-celebs]

Margot Robbie attends the 2024 AACTA Awards Presented by Foxtel Group at HOTA (Home of the Arts) on February 10, 2024 in the Gold Coast, Australia. 

[blackcatfilmprod]

A brief interview with Boy Swallow Universe Author Trent Dalton & actor Alanah Bautista at the Australian Academy of Cinema & Television Arts (AACTA).

[seniouesbabes]

Lily Maymac 🌸💋🍒🌸 @annpn_ @taylu_me THE RED CARPET @AACTA

TALK TO ME 👏🏼

WE NEED MORE LOVE FOR AUSTRALIAN CINEMA!!

[jgsuperiorpainters]

Gold Coast painters

For top-notch Gold Coast painters, look no further than JG Superior Painters. We specialize in providing high-quality painting services in Gold Coast, tailored to meet the unique needs of each client. Whether you need a full home makeover or just a touch-up, our team delivers professional results with attention to detail. At JG Superior Painters, we are experienced in Gold Coast residential…

[tokidokitokyo]

石川県

Japanese Prefectures: Chūbu - Ishikawa

都道府県 (とどうふけん) - Prefectures of Japan

Learning the kanji and a little bit about each of Japan’s 47 prefectures!

Kanji・漢字

石　いし、セキ、シャク、コク　stone

川　かわ、セン　stream, river

県　ケン　prefecture

中部　ちゅうぶ　Chūbu, Central Japan, the central region of Japan

Prefectural Capital (県庁所在地) : Kanazawa (金沢市)

Ishikawa Prefecture lies along the scenic north coast of Honshu, the main island of Japan, and is part of the central region, known as Chūbu (中部) or Hokuriku (北陸). Ishikawa combines contemporary art and ancient crafts, stunning ocean or mountain views, relaxing hot springs and traditional Japanese inns. Kanazawa boasts a vibrant geigi (芸妓) culture (think geisha), a bustling seaport in Kaga, and mountainous terrain in the Hakusan region.

This region was hit by the 2024 New Year's Noto Peninsula earthquake, with the most devastation occurring in the northern part of the peninsula. Many businesses and much of the economy relies heavily on tourism, and now is a good time to visit to assist in revitalizing the community, especially in minimally affected areas such as Kanazawa and Kaga.

Recommended Tourist Spot・おすすめ観光スポット Kutani Ceramic Art Village - 九谷陶芸村

Kutaniyaki (Kutani ware) (source)

Kutani ware is probably the best known in Ishikawa and the Noto peninsula. There are many kutani ware souvenirs to be found in Ishikawa, and you can even take classes to make your own pottery. Kutani ware contains five distinctive colors: red, yellow, green. purple, and blue. The rules for Kutani ware are few, so the freedom allowed in creating the pottery is practically endless. The high quality of the porcelain stone found in Ishikawa further lends itself to the distinctiveness of the pottery. In the city of Nomi you can find the Kutani Ceramic Art Village, which is also home to a museum documenting the history Kutani ware and how it is made. Nearby is Cerabo Kutani, a workshop where you can make your own Kutani ware pottery.

The history of this pottery dates back to 1655, when the first daimyo feudal lords of what was then the Daishoji domain wanted to make the most of the porcelain stone found in the area. A gold smelter was sent to Saga Prefecture to learn pottery, and when he returned he opened a kiln in the village of Kutani. This pottery became known as Ko Kutani, a predecessor to Kutani ware in its present form. This kiln operated for 50 years, and then closed down, for reasons unknown to historians.

The next kiln was opened in 1805, when a craftsman skilled in Kyoto pottery came to Ishikawa with his apprentice. The apprentice found the porcelain stone that is local to the area, and the pottery that they created became the modern day Kutani ware.

Regional Cuisine - 郷土料理 Kanazawa Oden - 金沢おでん

Kanazawa oden (source)

Oden is a popular traditional street food dish that can be traced back to the Edo period (1603-1868) in Japan. It is traditionally a dish of various ingredients simmered in soy-based broth and the simple yet warm and nourishing dish can still be found all over Japan today.

Kanazawa oden is a regional variation from the city of Kanazawa in Ishikawa, and is particularly distinctive from other types of oden due to the broth, which is carefully crafted from a blend of soy sauce, dashi (stock made from kombu seaweed and bonito flakes), and other seasonings such as mirin, sake, ginger, and garlic. Kanazawa oden ingredients include crab (only available in the winter!), plum shell conch, and fish balls. Kaga vegetables such as gensuke radish and wheat gluten are also staples in this dish.

Although Kanazawa oden can be enjoyed year-round, to get kani-men or stuffed crab shell you need to visit in the winter months.

Ishikawa Dialect・Ishikawa hougen・石川方言

The dialects of Ishikawa Prefecture are Kaga dialect (加賀弁, Kaga-ben) spoken in the southern part of the prefecture, and the Noto dialect (能登弁, Noto-ben) spoken in the northern part. There are also multiple dialects within each of the primary dialects, thanks to the mountains separating the villages. The below examples are primarily Kanazawa dialect.

1. あんやと、あんがと　anyato, angato

Standard Japanese: ありがとう　(arigatou) English: thank you

ああ、あんやと。 ah, anyato

ああ、ありがとう。 ah, arigatou

Oh, thank you.

2. ～しまっし　～shimasshi

Standard Japanese: ～してください、～しなさい　 (～shite kudasai, ～shinasai) English: please do ～, do ～

そこへ座るまっしね。 soko e suwaru masshi ne.

そこへ座ってくださいね。 soko e suwatte kudasai ne.

Please go ahead and sit there.

*Note: The masshi structure is the most famous Kanazawa dialect. This is also the catch phrase for visiting Kanazawa: 来まっし、金沢！ Kimasshi, Kanazawa! (Come to Kanazawa!)

3. ほうや、ほうや！　(houya, houya)

Standard Japanese: そうだそうだ　(sou da sou da) English: that's right, that's right

A: だちゃっかんわいね。 B: ほうや、ほうやね。 A: dachakkannwaine. B: hou ya, hou ya ne.

A: だめだね。 B: そうだ、そうだね。 A: dachakkannwaine. B: sou da, sou da ne.

A: That's not good, is it? B: That's right, that's right.

4. あゆるしゅう、あゆっしゅ　(ayurushuu, ayusshu)

Standard Japanese: よろしく (yoroshiku) English: nice to meet you, I'll leave it to you, please do etc.

A: デザートもたのむん？ A: dezaato mo tanomun? B: あゆるしゅう。 B: ayurushuu.

A: デザートも頼むの？ dezaato mo tanomu no? B: よろしく。 B: yoroshiku.

A: Are we ordering dessert too? B: Please do.

5. なーんも、なーん　(naan mo, naan)

Standard Japanese: いいよ　(ii yo) English: it's ok, don't worry

なぁーん、いいがや。 naan, ii ga ya.

いいえ、心配しないで。 iie, shinpai shinai de.

No, it's ok, don't worry.

More Ishikawa dialect here (JP).

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

Hello everyone, it's Wednesday already! Tagged by the wonderful @theoneandonlysemla (thank you for handsome altmer art hehe) Tagging @dirty-bosmer @thequeenofthewinter @lucien-lachance @umbracirrus @pocket-vvardvark @firefly-factory no pressure as always but if you'd like to share I am more than happy to see anything <3

This week I'm sharing part of my third and final chapter for this little minific I've been doing of Theodora and Ondolemar at Lakeview Manor (which you can find here). They've been having a good time aside from him getting stabbed but now it's time to address some things. Ondolemar, where were you from 4E 171-175? 🤔🤔🤔

“I’ve been missing Anvil more and more lately. The smell of the sea, how fresh the fish is. It’s beautiful…” Her words trail off as thoughts take over. 

After the defeat of Ulfric Stormcloak, General Tullius had provided an overview of all the Thalmor agents in Skyrim. Detailing their ranks, location, and status during the Great War. This was done to give the upper ranks of the Legion more information, he had specifically said to her that the Empire’s peace with the Thalmor may not last much longer. An offer to join the Emperor’s War Council had soon followed. 

“When you are ready to come home Legate Victius, the Empire will be proud to welcome the Dragonborn.” A load of propaganda was what it was, though she pretended to consider. 

In regards to the actual Thalmor agents, some information was already known to her. Legate Rikke had told her of Elenwen’s involvement in Ulfric Stormcloak’s torture. But soon the General went on to explain the others, names that she was thankful not to know. But then he said his name. “Commander Ondolemar, leader of the Thalmor Justiciars in Skyrim. Currently operating in Markarth, formerly a part of Arannelya’s army that swept through the Gold Coast to Hammerfell via Valenwood.”

A naive part of her had hoped he hadn’t been involved in the war at all. After realizing how stupid that was, she then decided that it would be okay if he was there for the capture of the Imperial City. She already accepted so much, being born post-war helped her ignore the realities of his faction, she could handle that; as terrible as it sounded. But, he had been there in Anvil, the home of her and her father before her. The ache that rocked through her body in that moment nearly knocked her off her feet. The only thing that kept her upright was the fear of explaining why. If she believed in the gods she would have thought they cursed her with what happened next. 

He was in Windhelm, he had used work as an excuse to come all that way to see her. They drank, and laughed, and he let his guard down further. They talked about home and he said he loved her for the first time. That he would grow still, to love her more. That he could never hurt her, even if it meant disobeying an order. 

If that is true she tells herself then he will not lie to me. 

“But you’ve been to Anvil before, haven’t you?” 

[moneeb0930]

AFRICA, a continent rich in history and culture, was a diverse and vibrant place 100 years before the colonial era began. The period prior to European colonization of Africa was characterized by the existence of powerful and sophisticated civilizations, trade networks, and diverse societies. During this time, Africa was home to thriving kingdoms and empires, such as the Kingdom of Ghana, the Mali Empire, the Benin Empire,and the Great Zimbabwe Empire.

One of the remarkable aspects of Africa before colonialism was the economic prosperity and trade networks that existed across the continent. The Trans-Saharan trade routes connected the North African coast with the interior of the continent, facilitating the exchange of goods, ideas, and cultures. The trade in gold, salt, ivory, and other resources contributed to the wealth of African societies and enabled the development of urban centers and marketplaces.

In addition to trade, agriculture played a significant role in the pre-colonial African societies. Many regions practiced advanced farming techniques, growing crops such as grains, yams, and millet. Livestock farming was also a common practice, with cattle, sheep, and goats being raised for food, milk, and trade. The agricultural surplus generated by these practices supported the growth of populations and the development of complex societies.

Socially and culturally, pre-colonial Africa was characterized by a rich tapestry of traditions, languages, and belief systems. The continent was home to a diverse array of ethnic groups, each with its own customs, art forms, and social structures. Oral traditions, storytelling, and music played a vital role in communicating histories and values within African societies. Religious practices were also diverse, ranging from indigenous animist beliefs to Islam and Christianity, which were introduced through trade and migration.

The political landscape of Africa before colonialism was marked by the presence of powerful kingdoms and empires that governed vast territories. These political entities were often organized hierarchically, with rulers holding significant authority over their subjects. The Kingdom of Ghana, for example, controlled trade routes and amassed wealth through taxation and tribute. The Mali Empire under Mansa Musa was renowned for its wealth, power, and intellectual pursuits.

In conclusion, Africa 100 years before colonialism was a continent teeming with cultural diversity, economic prosperity, and political sophistication. The continent's vibrant civilizations and societies thrived through trade, agriculture, and social structures that sustained their way of life. The legacy of pre-colonial Africa continues to influence the continent's present-day cultures, identities, and aspirations, reminding us of the resilience and vitality of Africa's past.

📸 A lady from today Ghana 🇬🇭 adorned in gold jewelry #africa

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Ridin’ The Waves 🏄‍♀️ | Javy “Coyote” Machado Imagine

Takes place before, during and after the events of TGM

TGM masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Javy “Coyote” Machado x pro surfer!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, pop culture references, details of the 2020 Tokyo Olympics | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 9.1k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby)

Premise: From the moment she could walk Y/n L/n belonged to the sea. Riding the waves that started as a hobby, only to lead her to the world’s greatest sporting stage. It would take time before her dream of Olympic Gold would happen as surfing had yet to be recognized by the IOC. But in her pursuit of becoming the greatest female surfer of all time, Y/n found who she believed was the closest person to paradise.

Note: I gotta say writing athlete/Olympian!reader imagines with the dagger squad are truly some of my favorite. Gosh I cannot wait for next year because that means…..2024 Olympics 👀 Guys I’m almost done with my semester! I have less than two weeks and all i have left to do is a paper and final project !! Almost to the finish thank goodness and then I move in with my friend before starting my summer job! Hope y’all enjoyed this work and let me know what you think!

Be sure to watch the video I linked during the Rock’s segment. I didn’t make it up it actually was a segment during the opening ceremonies on NBC’s coverage.

————————

“Is this heaven?” He laid on the surfboard beside her, feet in the water with the warmth of the sun hit his back. A cool breeze was starting to set in as the most beautiful sunset was before him, painting the sky an endless murrel of pink and orange. Only the subtle echo of the low tide filled his ears. Javy pressed his cheek onto the board, finding her smile which made his own appear at her words.

“More like paradise.”

Everyone had their own definition of paradise. Maybe it was the quiet plains of Montana or the mountains of Appalachia. Maybe it was strolling down the streets of Paris with the Eiffel Tower in the distance. Rain pouring down on New York City with a steaming cup of tea in hand or driving down the Pacific Coast Highway with “California Love” blasting through the radio. Reading a book by the fire next to their soulmate, dancing with strangers at a concert. Ask anyone what they viewed as their own personal paradise and the responses will vary.

Y/n L/n felt she was in paradise almost everyday of her life. Waking up to the view of the ocean while birds flew overhead. Feet hitting the sand as she ran to the waters with her board, anxiously waiting to ride the waves. Salt water coating skin and hair, sun beaming down.

Paradise.

From the moment she could walk the beach became her second home. Having grown up on the island of O’ahu Y/n learned how to surf before riding a bike. Her parents surfed. As did her siblings. Getting an instructor wasn’t needed with a family who knew everything there was about the art of surfing. Y/n received her first board at age four, and from then on her life was devoted to the water. Owning more swimsuits than t-shirts and shorts by the time she reached fifth grade.

She was a natural at best. Always predicting when and where the best waves would be. Timing the push up so perfect others—even her family—were unable to keep up.

“C’mon, leave some for the rest of us,” her brother would groan, missing a wave due to her swooping in at the last second. Y/n only laughed in return.

“Gotta be faster than that.”

Her parents, surfers themselves, were basically her coaches. On weekends they were waking her up at the crack of dawn, breakfast on the counter and telling her to be on the beach when she was done. Then of course she had to apply sunscreen, the substance coating every inch of her skin. Once on the beach a thirty minute run and stretching was mandatory before she could get in the water.

Skipping such a step would have her sore all night.

“We’re gonna work on your 360, cutback, and tube ride before finishing the day with cleaning up your alley oop.”

“If I don’t make a lot of mistakes can we watch Lilo & Stitch after dinner?”

“Yes, that is a fair deal.”

Mistakes? What are those? Mistakes weren’t in Y/n’s nature and if they occurred it was a rare sighting. Only time Y/n ever did mess up on a maneuver was when she was first learning it. Once she had it down it was impossible to lose.

All the friends she made loved going to the beaches after school and on weekends—getting all their homework done during the school hours so their entire afternoon was free. They signed up for competitions together, Y/n entering her first at age 14 for the 2004 Juniors season after competitions in regionals since age 11. “You’re gonna win the comp, Y/n.”

“Oh stop playing,” she brushed her best friend off, only to hear the murmurs of agreement from the rest of the group.

“I’m serious! You catch the best waves and ride them perfectly. Those judges are gonna be amazed on Saturday—I bet you’ll even get a sponsor.”

Her best friend was right. Not only did Rip Curl—THE Rip Curl want Y/n to be the face of their new campaign, but the surfing world would know her name for generations to come.

“Welcome back to our coverage of the 2004 ISA World Junior Surf Championship here in beautiful O’ahu, Hawaii here on ESPN. We’re dwindling down on the final competition with the defending champion from last year's event, sixteen-year-old Carolina Kanoa, and newcomer, Y/n L/n. If you’ve been watching the competition then you know all eyes have been on the fourteen-year-old native of Kapolei here on O’ahu, who scored the highest in her heats and received all tens in the quarterfinals after a perfect run.”

“It was quite the sight, Tom. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so effortless in this competition. Y/n’s delivered a captivating performance each wave she’s catched—always getting the first one in her heats and pulling out a big score putting her high on the leaderboard. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see her on top of the podium today.”

“For anyone watching at home who are new to surfing or just want a little refresh on the scoring system, here is how it works: a panel of five judges determine a score one through ten, ten being the best, for each surfer on their wave based on degree of difficulty, innovative maneuvers, combination of major maneuvers, the variety of said maneuvers, and the speed, power, and flow. The highest and lowest score are thrown out leaving the remaining three, which are then averaged out. Now a surfer can catch as many waves as they please but only the two highest scoring waves will be added together to give the total score for that heat. From there competitors are eliminated until there are two finalists.”

Treading water, Y/n paid close attention to the scene in front of her. With only three minutes left on the clock, she was one wave away from crowning herself the Junior World Champion.

“Give me a sign,” she breathed in the salty air. Her thoughts were answered seconds later by a chill running down her neck, gaze snapping to the left where she saw the water draw back. Springing into action, Y/n paddled towards the forming wave, timing it at the perfect moment to end the competition on a bang. She heard the crowd cheer when she stood up, increasing each maneuver she did until finally riding out the end of the wave right as the bullhorn sounded.

Her heart pounded, “Did I just win?” Damn sure she did. Nothing could describe the feeling of holding the championship trophy at the top of the podium. And what made it ten times better, an ambassador of Rip Curl offered her a sponsorship. Before long Y/n’s name and face were plastered across all their campaigns. After winning the ISA Junior World Championships three years in a row—making her a household name in surfing—Y/n went on to senior international competitions. From there her glory only skyrocketed.

ISA World Surfing Games, World Surf League, Rip Curl Pro, Big Wave Tour, Vans Triple Crown of Surfing. Y/n’s little shelf of trophies turned into a full length china cabinet. Traveling back and forth from O’ahu to America. Sometimes even going to South America and Japan for international comps. By age 19 she had created her own maneuver earning her even more attention due to the level of difficulty.

“I don’t see what the fuss is about?” She chewed on a piece of spam, leaning her elbows on the kitchen counter. “All I did was add a couple of extra spins on my aerial.” Her mother gave her a bewildered look.

“That move in itself is difficult, Y/n. Not many perform it in competition and the fact you successfully landed one—with your little spoof nonetheless, people are gonna be amazed.”

“Well, I guess I just got lucky.”

Following high school Y/n turned professional and moved to Honolulu to attend the University of Hawai’i at Mānoa where she studied sports management with a minor in sports science. A family friend had an old Volkswagen Type 2 and Y/n was happy to take it off their hands, fixing it up to have the perfect beach van. Once classes were done for the day Y/n was packing it up with her board, cooler, boombox, and her closest friends.

“You sure this thing isn’t gonna break down on us?”

“Don’t insult Sandy. She’s as good as new,” okay that was a stretch, the van was literally 60 years old, “and I filled her up on gas this morning so we shouldn’t find ourselves on the side of the road.”

“Thanks for the confidence, Y/n. Much appreciated.”

It wasn’t uncommon for people to recognize her on campus. Having generated a public image in surfing—which many of her peers were also involved in—meant she was bound to hear, “Hey, you’re Y/n L/n?” “Oh my gosh I’ve been watching you compete since you were a junior competitor.” “Congrats on winning the Pro this year.”

There were times professors kindly asked, “Can you sign this for my kid? They’ve been into surfing lately and you’re their favorite athlete.” Taking photos with supporters happened occasionally as did giving advice to those wanting to get into surfing. It was a nice feeling for the woman to be able to inspire people and share the sport she loved.

Expanding the art of surfing to the world.

Four years of college seemed to fly by fast. Y/n was surprised she managed to pull through with a 3.6 GPA and graduate Cum Laude with everything in her life. A lot of the competitions were during the school year so Y/n had lots of work on her plate—thankfully some instructors were reasonable and allowed her to get an advance on the material. But she completed her degree with immense relief, aiming to get a career in sports going either by becoming a trainer or manager following her retirement from surfing.

“Y/n, It’s so great to see you again this year at the World Surf League World Championship. You recently graduated from the University of Hawai’i, you’re set to compete in today’s finals to defend your title—how many would this be for you? Number seven?”

Y/n chuckled with the reporter, brushing away a stray piece of hair. “Lucky number seven, yes. I’m so happy and grateful to be competing today—excited to hit the water and try to catch the best waves possible. Regardless of the outcome today I’m just really happy to be here again. I always look forward to this time of year—being able to compete and after working so hard in school this last semester, it’s definitely a relief to not have to worry about finishing a paper last minute once this comp ends.”

“There’s been recent talk of surfing possibly becoming an Olympic sport after much demand following the London Games this year. What are your thoughts? Do you think it’ll be featured in Rio and if so are you going to try and make the team?”

Since becoming a professional sport in 1959 following the first West Coast Surfing Championship in Huntington Beach, California, surfing had yet to reach the greatest sporting stage. The Olympic Games. Held every four years where thousands of athletes from around the globe come together to compete for the chance at gold. Duke Kahanamoku, the father of modern surfing and three-time Olympic freestyle swimming champion having won gold at the 1912 and 1920 Games respectively, first advocated the sport to be in the Olympics back in 1920. Had it not been for him, surfing may not have become as popular in the world as it was.

When it came to the Olympics, Y/n loved sitting by the tv to watch Team USA. Witnessing historic moments and record breaking finishes she was in awe of every athlete who came across the screen. Swimming, diving, track, gymnastics, soccer. So many sports events in a single fortnight. She hoped surfing would become an official sport in the Games. For she too had dreams of an Olympic gold around her neck.

Pausing for a moment, Y/n smiled at the thought of her becoming an Olympic Champion, “I think a lot of us can agree that we’d like to see surfing become part of the Olympic family. It’s one of the oldest sports and has its own professional circuit for decades now—I mean we’ve got people here today from Japan, Italy, El Salvador and Australia. Why not include it? And you can definitely expect me to be training the moment it is.”

It would be four years before Y/n could make do with that promise. On August 3, 2016, two days prior to the opening ceremonies of the Games of the XXXI Olympiad, the IOC announced surfing would finally be an Olympic sport.

“Exciting news for the surfing world,” the headline appeared on the screen of ESPN’s afternoon coverage, “the International Olympic Committee has just confirmed the sport will be introduced for the first time in its history at the Tokyo Olympics taking place in 2020–marking 100 years since surfing legend Duke Kahanamoku first started advocating for it to be featured. Professional surfing isn’t new to international competition having debuted at Huntington Beach, California in 1959. Since then there’s been several meets featuring surfers from all over the world—the most recent being the 2016 Rip Curl Pro where ten-time World Surf League champion Y/n L/n claimed the title once again for the fifth time since her senior international debut in 2007. L/n is just one of many professional surfers who’ve advocated for surfing to be in the Olympics over the years and expressed interest in competing for a chance at gold. With the confirmation by the IOC this morning, I’d say we’ll be seeing her at the trials in four years.”

The morning after the announcement Y/n headed to the beach to find her father propping her board into the sound. “So four years, huh?” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the wind breeze past them.

“Seems like a long way, but it’ll be around the corner before we know it.”

“We better get started then.”

Morning, afternoon, evening. Every day Y/n was on the water catching waves left and right. Perfecting maneuvers, getting air in her aerials. When taking breaks she’d go on runs and to the gym. She still participated in yearly competitions and surfed with her friends, but her training habits became more intense as she prepped for Tokyo. When she wasn’t sleeping, eating, or competing she was on the water.

By 2019 Y/n had accumulated the most titles won by a female surfer with ten ISA World Surfing Games—formerly the World Surfing Championships, ten Rip Curl Pro trophies, five QuickSilver pro Gold Coast, five-time triple crown winner, and the 2016 champion of The Eddie Aikua Big Wave International. Winning The Eddie and becoming the first woman in history to do so after the event returned from a seven-year hiatus had Y/n on the front page of several sports magazines around the world. It was a huge accomplishment. Pushing Y/n as the favorite to win gold in Tokyo.

Towards the later end of the year, October in fact, Y/n found herself on the sunny beaches of San Diego, California. August to November were the best months to surf in the area, being it was late summer going into fall where the heat wasn’t excruciating. Still one had to wear a wetsuit to even touch the water.

Y/n was in town to visit an old friend from college and to help the Pacific Beach Surf Club with their beach cleanups and participate in a charity competition. Having traveled in San Diego a few times she was no stranger to the club and welcomed with open arms. Volunteering in their cleanups was the least she could do to prepare the beach for the charity event.

When they finished they all changed out of their clothes into wetsuits, wasting no time to hit the waves. “Hey!” Her friend yelled from where she was treading water, tone teasing, “be sure to leave some for the rest of us, yeah?” Y/n threw her head back in laughter.

“I make no promises!”

Anytime Y/n surfed out of training or competition she felt so free. No pressure to be perfect. No shouting from her father. No commentary from the sportscasters or questions from reporters. Only her, her board, and the beautiful sea.

She cheered on her friend and the people in their cleanup group when they caught waves. Complimenting them whenever they did a cool trick. In return they whistled and hollered for her. They soon developed an audience from the shore. Children and adults alike stop to watch them in awe. Instantly drawn to Y/n who glided effortlessly, guiding her board into a tube ride.

Unbeknownst to the surfer, a group of navy pilots had stopped their game of dogfight football to observe the show.

Jake whistled, “Damn she’s good.” Mickey agreed.

“I don’t think I’ve seen someone surf like that. She’s a natural.”

“Probably has been doing it for years,” Bradley commented, fixing his aviators. Natasha and Bob hummed in agreement.

“I think I’m in love,” Javy breathed out, simply in awe of what he was witnessing. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen showcasing talent on a board he could only dream of possessing.

He wondered what her laugh sounded like, seeing her head tilt back at something her friend said. Even from the distance her smile was breathtaking. Hair pulled back into a tight bun, body adored in a wetsuit to combat the cool water. A cheeky smirk thrown at her peers when she started paddling toward a forming wave. Standing on the board like a pro and making all kinds of turns and tricks Javy knew he’d wipe out the second he attempted them. Speaking of wiping out, she hadn’t done it once.

Jake nudging him from the side snapped him out of his daydream, “Go talk to her.” At the nod of his head, Javy realized she was running across the sand, stopping when she got to an area of coolers, towels, and backpacks.

“No!” He hissed, eyes reading, ‘are you crazy?’

“Why not? Just go up and start complimenting her. Ask her how long she’s been surfing. That’ll start a conversation.”

Javy scoffed, “Easy for you to say, Mr. Ken Barbie Doll who doesn’t need a confidence boost when talking to women.” Jake went to rebuttals but the sound of Reuben coughing stopped him.

“Uh guys….” He lifted a finger, their gazes following to find a family of four approaching the young woman. They couldn’t hear what was being said, but seeing her take a notepad from the little girl before scribbling in what appeared to be an autograph followed by the father snapping a photo with his phone, it was enough to conclude she was someone.

“Are…is she signing autographs?” Javy wondered aloud. He watched her sign the little boy's boogie board, posing for a photo with him before kneeling down to be on both the children’s level and smile for the camera. Hell even the parents wanted a photo, one of her friends coming over to hold the phone while they positioned themselves on either side. Then finally the whole family had a group one, saying their goodbyes and thank you’s to the woman who waved as they left.

“So she’s kinda famous,” Bradley said the obvious, everyone in a daze. Probably trying to figure out who the woman was, as none had recognized her as an actress or singer.

While they were busy investigating, Y/n unzipped her wetsuit leaving her bikini underneath and pulled on shorts with a graphic t-shirt overtop. “What are you guys doing after this?”

“We’re gonna grab some drinks at The Hard Deck. You down?”

“The Hard Deck?” She repeated with a tilt of the head. Never had she heard of the place.

“It’s that bar over there,” Y/n turned to the direction her friend was nodding at, eyes landing on a building not far from where they stood. “Great vibes, but I must warn ya it’s always filled with Navy fellas.” Y/n perked up slightly. Having lived on O’ahu all her life she was familiar with Navy personnel. After all, Pearl Harbor was located just on the coast of the island.

“Really?”

“Yeah, Miramar is not too far from here. It’s where the pilots train so expect to see some in flight suits.”

At around 6 the group packed it up and headed for the bar. Upon entry Y/n saw exactly what her friend had warned. The place was buzzing. Servicemen and women on every corner, music blasting from the jukebox. They approached the bar top to order a round of beers before settling over by the high top tables, splitting the group up since there were about eight of them.

“Check it out, Machado,” Payback clapped his friend’s back, making him turn to where his attention was. Javy’s eyes widened upon seeing the surfer.

“Did they just get here?”

“Looked like it. You should talk to her—especially since this is the second sighting in mere hours.” The pilot rolled his eyes.

“I don’t wanna come off as a creep, Fitch. What am I supposed to say ‘Hey, sorry if this is weird but I saw you surfing earlier—can I buy you a drink?’ She might throw me to the sharks.”

Natasha shook her head, “men.” A moment later Penny arrived with a tray of beers, placing them down on the seat beside Bob where the guys were shooting pool, “delivery for my favorite dagger squad.”

Thanks were sent her way followed by Jake asking, “Say Pen, you know those guys?” The bartender glanced over her shoulder to see who he was referring to, nodding with a smile.

“Oh that’s some members of the Pacific Beach Surf Club. They were cleaning up the beach earlier for tomorrow's charity competition. Expect the place to be packed if you drop by, it’s always a madhouse. This year they’ve got some of the best surfers participating.”

“Do you know if she’s one of them,” Javy tried to act cool when pointing out the woman.

Upon Penny’s smirk, the answer was clear, “Unless my eyes are deceiving me, I believe that’s ten-time world surfing champion Y/n L/n.”

“Ten?!” Mickey repeated, “Holy shit.” Around him the others were matching his expression. Javy immediately grabbed his phone to type in the name. Sure enough the image of the woman seated at the table appeared on his screen. Clicking on the Wikipedia page he started to read aloud for the group the opening paragraph.

“Y/n M/n L/n, born y/b/m yb/d, 1990 is an American professional surfer from Kapolei, O’ahu, Hawaii and a ten-time World Surf League Women’s World champion, the most titles won by any female surfer to date. L/n made her debut at the World Surf League Junior Championships at age 14 in 2004 in her native O’ahu, winning three consecutive times before turning to senior international competition where she’s won a total of forty world titles—including becoming a five-time triple crown winner. As of 2016, L/n is the defending champion and first women to win the Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational. She is set to compete at the first ever U.S Olympic Trials in hopes of making the Tokyo Olympic Team where surfing will make its debut at the Olympics.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Jake peered over Javy’s shoulder, watching him scroll down to view Y/n’s career statistics. Mickey appeared on the opposite side, whistling under his breath. Natasha took out her own phone to search herself, Bradley, Bob, and Payback all glancing over to see.

“She’s literally called the greatest surfer of this generation,” Bradley pointed out. “Talk about intimidating.”

“Now you gotta buy her a drink, Machado,” Payback concluded, igniting another glare from his friend. “Say you pulled an Olympian.”

“I’ll take it to her,” Penny offered, and before Javy could stop her the woman was back behind the bar. They watched her take a Corona from the cooler, add a lime and proceed to the table the athlete was at. “From the gentlemen by the pool tables,” Penny smiled at Y/n, nodding to the group, “the one the blonde is pointing at.” Turning her head, Y/n saw the guy in question pushing his friend’s hand down, a reddish hue on his cheeks when they made eye contact followed by a wave.

‘Well hello there,’ she thought, smiling at the handsome man. He was in a pair of basketball shorts and t-shirt reading NAVY in bold letters. The group he was with all scattered to make it look like they weren’t eavesdropping when Y/n approached, Corona in hand, “Hi.”

“Hello,” even his voice was attractive. Everything about him was. From his clear smooth skin to his dazzling smile. Toned arms and legs.

“Thanks for the beer.”

“Anytime,” he tipped the one in his hand, Y/n clicking hers against it. “Sorry if this is weird at all. I saw you surfing earlier and was trying to muster up the courage to come talk to you….but couldn’t find the words to say.”

Y/n smirked, gesturing to an empty pool table, “how about a game? Maybe it’ll help loosen your nerves.” Moving to a cue Y/n sees his grin widen, “I’m Y/n by the way.”

“I’m Javy, but you can call me Coyote.”

“Coyote?” She repeats with a chuckle, “That’s an interesting nickname.”

“Callsign actually,” he politely corrects before explaining he was a naval aviator. Grabbing his own cue while she sets up the rack, he added, “Wasn’t my doing.”

“Then how’d you get it?”

“Um…” he made a face, as though he was embarrassed to say. “I’ll tell you if you win this match.” A sound between a scoff and a laugh escaped her.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be.” Javy raises his hands in defense, laughing with her. “And if you win?”

His own smirk appears, “You give me your phone number…maybe even let me take you out.” Biting back a grin and fighting the warm feeling in her chest, Y/n removes the rack leaving the pool balls neatly centered.

“Challenge accepted, Coyote.”

It was safe to say both came out as winners that night. Though Y/n won the game and got the scoop on Javy’s callsign origin, he walked away with her number and plans to have dinner the following night after her charity event. Javy made the promise to come out and watch her surf, excited to see her in action. Hearing Y/n talk about the sport and her accomplishments was even cooler in person than reading it off the internet. From her amateur days to becoming a full blown professional. Winning countless championship titles, being the first woman to win The Eddie and her dream to win gold at the Olympics.

Javy was smitten.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” She smiled when they reached her van at the end of the night. They talked for hours to the point they lost track of time. It was 11 o’clock and she had to be up at five.

“You said it starts at noon?” At her nod Javy continued, “I’ll be there. And I look forward to our dinner plans after.” Y/n felt the heat rise, hoping it wasn’t displaying on her face.

“Me too. Thank you for a fun night, Javy,” feeling bold, Y/n leans to place a kiss on his cheek. The action leaves him stunned, smile growing bigger as she pulls away. “See you on the beach.”

Now Javy had loved the beach before meeting Y/n. But his love for it and the ocean only grew the moment he watched her ride the waves. Cheering from the sand as she dropped down and glided the tide with ease. It made him want to stay there forever.

He understood quickly why she was regarded as the greatest female surfer of all time. Yeah it was a charity competition and not a world championship, but Y/n treated the waves no differently. She was a beast. Total control of her board, little to no mistakes.

Their dinner date was filled with laughter, flirty sarcasm, stories so outrageous one would think they were bluffing. Javy spoke of his time at Top Gun and his friendship with Jake. Y/n told him about her college days. Both engaged in conversations about dreams and aspirations. Yeah they had their dream careers, but one can always dream bigger. Dream about friendship, dream about love.

Dream about the future.

When the night came to an end, Y/n laid her head on the pillow with a smile on her face, “I think this might be paradise.”

23 July 2021–The Hard Deck, San Diego California.

“It’s almost time for USA!” Javy hushes everyone, grabbing the remote to increase the volume. The place was packed mostly with the squad's friends, colleagues, the Pacific Beach Surf Club, and college students from UC San Diego. Togethery they were gathered to watch the opening ceremonies of the 2020 Tokyo Olympics.

The Tokyo Olympics.

Finally after a whole year of waiting the Games were finally being held. A global pandemic sure would be the only thing to stop the most iconic two-week sporting event in the world.

And Javy’s girlfriend, 12x World champion Y/n L/n, was there to be part of surfing's Olympic debut. Gold on her mind.

The two had been long distance the majority of their relationship, but FaceTimed nearly every day with promises to visit as soon as restrictions were lifted. Y/n traveled to San Diego in the winter of 2020 to mark the couple’s one year anniversary. Then Javy flew to Hawaii in the spring, spending two weeks in Kapolei where most time was spent surfing and late night drive on the beach.

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” he sang at the top of his lungs, windows rolled down .

“Than on my surfboard out at sea,” Y/n followed, smile wide on her face with her hair blowing in the wind.

“Lingering in the ocean blue.”

“And if I had one wish come true.”

Together they sang, “I’d surf ‘til the sun sets beyond the horizon!”

Y/n tilted her head back, “‘Āwikiwiki, mai lohilohi. Lawe mai i ko papa he’e nalu.”

Belting out together once again, their voices echoed in the night, “Flying by on the Hawaiian roller coaster ride!!”

“‘Āwikiwiki, mai lohilohi. Lawe mai i ko papa he’e nalu.”

“Pi’i nā nalu lā lahalaha. ‘O ka Moana hānupanupa.”

“Lalala i ka lā hanahana. Me ke kai hoene i ka pu’e one.”

“Heel, hele mai kākou ē.”

“Hawaiian roller coaster ride!”

During the Olympic surf qualifying event in Huntington Beach the whole squad was in attendance to cheer Y/n on. Javy embraced her in tears, lifting her onto his shoulders to the hollars and whistles of their friends and family.

Y/n was officially an Olympian.

Now usually during the parade of nations of the opening ceremonies Greece is the first to enter the arena followed by the countries in alphabetical order with the hosting nation entering last. Having waited a whole year due to the Covid-19 pandemic, the world was excited to get the Games started. But to everyone’s surprise the order of the parade of nations would proceed differently than prior Olympics.

Greece still entered first, followed by the Refugee Olympic Team and then the nations paraded in based on where they fell on the Gojūon system. Japan would be the last country to march in, but for the first time ever the hosting countries of the next two Olympics entered before the hosting country. And what were those two countries?

France and The United States of America.

Paris was set to host the upcoming 2024 Games just three years away, and then in 2028 Los Angeles gets the honor once again of bringing the world together. The last time LA hosted was in 1984, and the last time America itself hosted the Summer Games was Atlanta 1996.

“Okay everyone shut up!!” The tv was turned to the loudest volume possible, all in attendance falling to hush whispers.

“Everything changes,” Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson’s voice echoes through the speakers, his silhouette figure walking into an empty arena. “The longest wait of their lives is over.” The beat of the music gets louder, building in pressure. “And the combination of their blood, sweat, and tears,” his face is revealed under the light, “finally arrives.”

The beat drops in time with the image of fireworks rocketing from the Rio arena, an announcer’s voice stating, “this is the moment that you all have been waiting for.”

“It’s not easy to bring the entire whole planet together,” the Rock states, “and it certainly wasn’t tonight. But, here we are.”

“Finally!”

“It’s finally here.”

“The Olympics are finally here,” Gold Medalist Simone Biles grins.

“Yeah, I’m hyped up.”

“Can’t wait to show the world what I got.”

The image shows Dwayne once again, “Tonight we are all so lucky to witness the hardest workers in the room.” Then it changes to athletes training, from gymnast Sam Mikulak to sprinter Noah Lyles. “The athletes who are a brilliant tapestry of talent, commitment, and drive.”

“Drive, drive, drive!”

“Now what was once considered unthinkable just one year ago has become a glorious reality. We come together united to celebrate the Olympians who exemplify the very best in all of us.”

🎼 legs are shaking, hands aching, 🎼

Simone Biles appears, determination in her gaze as she races down the vault runway. “It’s Simone’s party and everyone else is just a guest,” Tim Daggett’s voice cuts in during the clip of Simone at the World Championships, followed by the Rock.

“She is absolutely the greatest gymnast the world has ever seen. But even if there’s nothing left to prove, there’s a chance to launch herself even higher into the rarest air of immortality.”

As Simone lands her vault, it transitions into Katie Ledecky entering the pool. “The most dominant swimmer in the world.” “It’s just ridiculous!”

“She swims like a machine created to wreak havoc and decimate with impunity.”

“Katie Ledecky smashes her own world record!”

“But in reality she’s about the nicest person you’ll ever meet,” the rock’s face returns, bearing his own smile like Katie. “And kindness matters. Always.” Track star Noah Lyles running takes over. “He makes running as fast as you can look the way it’s supposed to look.”

“NOAH LYLES, WORLD CHAMPION!”

Dwayne grins, “Damn fun.” The next athlete featured was the one they were all waiting for.

“On dry land she’s impressive, in the water she’s simply lethal,” the Hard Deck erupted in cheers, Y/n flashing onto the screens showcasing her drop in during the WSL World Tour.

“That’s my baby!!!” Her name appeared in big bold letters like the others, ‘Y/n L/n. Kapolei, O’ahu, HI.’

“Monstruos wave for Y/n L/n, but she handles it like a pro.” The clip shows her pointing to the sky in victory following her win. “She’s here to prove why surfing should’ve been in the Olympics ages ago,” the Rock looks proud, “and look cool as hell while doing so.”

The tone of the video shifts, bringing forth the raw and emotional reality of athletes who’ve given every inch of their soul to be on the world’s greatest sporting stage. “They’re kids from Minneapolis—.”

“Kenny Harrison!” A girl crosses the finish line in joy, soon embraced by her father. “Raleigh.”

Fellow surfer and native Hawaiian Carissa Moore is shown, “And Honolulu.” A baby in a stroller being pushed by her mother. “They’re working moms with unfinished business.” Allison Felix with her daughter.

“This is what makes all the sacrifice worth it.”

Simone Manuel becoming the first Black woman to win an individual Olympic gold at the 2016 Rio Games. “The barrier breakers who’ve proven the power of the platform.”

“I can’t begin to tell you what this means for the sport of swimming in the United States.”

“There’s Jordan—!” A montage of Gold medal winning teams flashed. The Fab Five. The women’s soccer and basketball teams. The women’s rowing team. The Fierce and Final Five of U.S Gymnastics. “And the teams that have dominated for generations with no intention of changing the script for this one.”

“Get the gold medals ready. Again!”

“These awe-inspiring multi-talented athletes are taking on the world.”

🎼 ‘You bring me back to life.’ 🎼

Between the music and feel good montage, some of the viewers in the hard deck were having trouble holding back tears. Chills racking up their body. It made them want to get out and start training to be a world class athlete.

“They really are the best of us. They’re bringing us together.”

“That’s a new world record!”

“And they’re about to give you, at long last, the greatest two-week spectacle the world has ever seen.” Close ups of Team USA’s Olympians rolled, Javy wiping his eyes when Y/n appeared. “It is their Games. It is our Games.”

Absolute chills.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am so grateful to have the honor of presenting to you….Team USA.” At the last word the Rock disappears, cutting to Team USA entering the Tokyo dome—the American flag flying high, “USA! USA! USA!” Though they couldn’t hear the cheers from the Hard Deck across the ocean, that didn’t stop the building from erupting in whistles. It was only the opening ceremonies so one could imagine what it would be like come the 26th and 27th.

When Y/n hits the waves for a chance at Olympic gold.

Tsurigasaki Beach, located 40 miles from Tokyo, was the place where it would all happen. The damp sand beneath Y/n’s toes felt comforting. Although the overcast skies made her worried. Tropical Storm Nepartak caused the waves to be more aggressive and unpredictable. It was going to be an interesting day of competition.

After qualifying with a big score in her heat the previous day, Y/n was set to compete in the quarterfinals that morning. From there the semi-final contestants would be decided, going straight into the event before finals that afternoon. Three events in one day if she made it all the way to the end.

“I’m going to be so sore tonight.”

Shortboard in hand, Y/n raced to the water the second the horn sounded. Instant shivers along her arms from the cold feeling. Cloudy skies prevented the sun from heating the water, “goodness gracious.”

Quarterfinals breezed by. Y/n started off strong with a score of 7 for her first wave, going on to claim two more, another 7 and an 8 bringing her total score to a 15. Putting her, American Carissa Moore, South African Bianca Buitendag and Japan’s Amuro Tsuzuki into the semifinals.

“Stellar performance by Y/n L/n of the United States. She had a bit of trouble on her second wave—which we can’t blame her for; many competitors have been having difficulty today due to the impact of tropical storm Nepartak on the tide. L/n’s score of 15 puts her at the top for the quarterfinals, but that can all change when we return for the semifinals in the next hour. It looks like she’ll be up against Japan’s Amuro Tsuzuki for one of two spots in the gold medal match.”

“That’s how you do it,” Javy clapped at the tv, the footage replaying Y/n’s competition highlights. “Semi-finals here we go.”

During the semis the pressure was on. Y/n could feel it all over, anxiety coursing when the horn sounded. Thirty minutes on the clock, ticking down to eliminate either her or Amuro. Usually her luck turns out for the better whenever she gets the first wave, however, Amuro beats her to it. Catching the next one Y/n focuses on pulling speed and managing her flow into the maneuvers, receiving a score of 6.2 on her first wave, 8.3 on her second and 7 on her third. Unfortunately a wipe out early on her fourth and final wave results in a score of 3.

“Is that gonna be enough?” Jake cringes, noticing the look of unease on his friend's visage. Y/n appeared shaken from the wipe out. Very rare has she ever messed up greatly in competition. But there’s always a first for everything.

Javy had a paper in front of him, writing down Y/n’s scores and the ones of her competitors to predict what she needed and if she was qualified to the final round.

“Her six and seven will be dropped, putting her at 11.30,” he taps the pen on the bar surface, “if Amuro doesn’t get another wave in the next,” Javy checks the time, “two minutes then it should put Y/n through to the finals.”

Amuro did in fact catch another wave before the horn sounded, ending their round in the semis, but it wasn’t enough. Her total score accumulated a 7.43, eliminating her from the final competition.

“One more,” her father/coach took a hold of her shoulders. “You’re almost there, Y/n.” Almost to the gold. “Rest up, you got one hour.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Picking up a water bottle and plotting on the sand Y/n downed the liquid and munched on an apple. To pass time she scrolled through Tik Tok, sent a selfie to Javy—who sent one of him and the squad back—and called her family in O’ahu to calm her nerves. She had already talked with Javy that morning before quarterfinals, promising to FaceTime him after the finals.

It was nerve racking. Regardless of how the event went, Y/n was guaranteed the silver medal. USA would take home both Gold and Silver in surfing’s debut being fellow American Carissa Moore beat out South Africa’s Bianca Buitendag in their round.

One competition left.

Bidding good luck to Carissa, Y/n took her position and waited for the horn. Thirty minutes on the clock. Thirty minutes to a gold medal.

“Here we go,” Payback announced in time with Y/n paddling out to sea. Javy rubbed his hands together, eyes glued to the screen.

“And the two Americans are off in the first ever gold medal match for surfing. Carissa Moore, the 2019 WSL World Champion, and twelve-time title holder Y/n L/n head-to-head to declare who will become the woman to win surfing’s first gold medal. Both have exemplified great performances today—it’s not easy doing a quarterfinals, semi-finals, and finals all in one day, but these pros make it look easy.”

“There she goes!” Nat shouted, earning cheers at the bar when Y/n caught the first wave of the competition.

“Kicking off with the first wave, in just two minutes of the clock starting is Y/n L/n. Dropping in beautifully, easing into the wave…..Straight into an roundhouse cutback, which she does flawlessly. Bottom turn, I think she’s gonna try and do a off-the-lip right here….and she nails it! I think she’s hoping to elongate this wave as far out as she can. Carving now and finishing with a 360 into an Ariel. Wow! That was a great start by Y/n.”

“Yeah that’s what I’m talking about!” Javy shouted over the cheers, grin plastered wide only to brighten more when the score came back a 8.7. “HELL YEAH! LETS GO!”

Carissa’s wave was impressive. She managed to hold it down with complicated moves to earn a 8.5. Both women scored huge on the first waves followed by 7s across the board. Nearing the final five minutes Carissa managed to get a 6.43.

“She can’t get anything lower than a 6.23,” Javy felt sweat pool on his forehead, suddenly feeling hot in the bar despite it being the ass crack of dawn.

“She’s got this,” Nat patted his back.

The clock was ticking down. Two minutes to go and Y/n had yet to find a wave. Placing her palm onto the surface, she took a deep breath, “please, give me a sign.” Not a moment later she felt something in her say to look right.

There, brimming about fifteen feet away, was the perfect wave.

Wasting no time Y/n’s chest planted to her board, paddling as fast as possible. Her heart was pounding, salt water splashing. Positioning herself in front of the forming body, Y/n silently called out to whoever was listening for strength.

“Wow she’s going for that huge current out on the west side. Moore is too far back—it’s gonna be L/n on the final wave of the women’s competition. With one minute to go she’s dropping in—.”

Y/n allowed the adrenaline to consume her, giving it total control as she dropped in. The highest wave of the competition yet, Y/n knew she’d be having a tube ride with how it formed. Picking up speed, she knelt slightly, paralleling her chest with the wall of the wave, the water curving around her. Blocking the world from her view.

It was just her and the sea. No one else.

Closing her eyes briefly, she pictured she was back on O’ahu in the water she grew up in. Sun beating down and gentle hum of seagulls.

Like she was in paradise.

The image left as quick as it came. Y/n snapping out of her daydream to exit the tube ride to the cheers of her father on the beach, curing back into the wave to finish on a high note by performing her signature Ariel. Smiling the whole way down just as the horn signified the end of the competition.

“And there you have it folks. The women’s surfing finals has officially come to a close—Y/n L/n ending her Olympic Games with a remarkable last wave. Absolute perfection with speed, precision, and control. That’s gonna be the highest score for her I feel.”

“C’mon, c’mon,” Javy bit his nail, knee bouncing from the anxiety of not knowing. Carissa’s total score was displayed first, 14.93. Y/n’s lowest was a seven, highest 8.7. Her final wave was amazing, but judging was unpredictable. Anything could happen.

Then in the blink of an eye the hard deck exploded.

“I don’t believe it! Tens across the board for Y/n L/n bringing her total to 17.00!! Y/n L/n has won the gold for the United States—Carissa Moore with the silver. USA goes one and two in women’s surfing at its Olympic debut!!! Take it all in, we are witnessing history,” the screen shows Y/n and Carissa embracing, leaning over their boards to congratulate the other, “Team USA has much to celebrate, the world of surfing has their champion. Y/n L/n adds gold to her name—surfing’s first Olympic Champion here in Tokyo!!”

Y/n laughed the entire time she paddled to shore, raising to her feet to race towards her father. She was soaking wet but he didn’t care. “You did it!” He yelled, kissing her head with tears in his eyes. “You’re an Olympic champion! I’m so so proud of you!” Soon they were greeted by Carissa and the rest of Team USA’s surfing members. The two women were lifted onto shoulders, American flags draped over their backs with photographers surrounding them.

It was a moving image. Two women from Honolulu and Kapolei, Hawaii won surfing’s first Olympic silver and gold medal. If only Duke Kahanamoku could be there to witness.

Back at the hard deck celebratory drinks were served and toasts raised to Y/n. Javy barely contained his emotion, eyes watering the moment her name came back the winner. Natasha and Jake embraced him in a hug, the guys whistling and hollering. Penny rang the bell.

“She won! Oh my God my baby is a gold medalist!! This is the best day ever!!”

The entire podium ceremony Y/n was on cloud nine. Placing the gold medal around her neck, she took a moment to stare at it. Disbelief and awe in her eyes. ‘Wow, I actually did it.’

When the national anthem came to an end Y/n did the traditional bite of the medal for the cameras. Posing with Carissa and Bianca afterwards, Y/n was ushered to interviews.

“Hello, Y/n,” the reporter beamed, “congratulations are in store—what an amazing moment for you. You’re the first gold medalist in women’s surfing at the Olympics. How does it feel?”

“It’s absolutely a dream come true. For years the surfing community has wished for this—to be in the Olympics and for me to be part of its debut, winning the gold medal…I-I can’t put into words how much this means to me. I’m so grateful and honored.”

“You’ve been around for a while now,” the reporter mentioned, “2004 was the first time we saw you and you’ve gone on to have a stellar surfing career. Winning the WSL World Surfing Games twelve times now—competing when it was still called the WSL World Championships and became the first woman to win The Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational in 2016. This is your first Olympic Games, surfing will be at the Paris Games in three years. Can we expect to hopefully see you there?”

“I wouldn't rule it out,” Y/n winked with a giggle. “Paris is in three years and I would love to return to the Olympics again. After dreaming for so long I don’t want to let it go so easily. Of course anything can happen between now and 2024 but with my family, friends, and boyfriend cheering me on with their endless support…” she gave a cheeky shrug, “I’m gonna work hard and get back in the water once I’m home.”

“We’ll be rooting for you, Y/n. I don’t think the surfing world is ready to say goodbye to you. Anything else you’d like to say before you have to go. Anyone you’d like to say thanks to?”

Instantly the Olympian brightened, eyes locking on the camera. “I wanna give a shoutout to my hometown of Kapolei on O’ahu—the place where this journey started on the beautiful beaches and waters of my home. To my family and friends, thank you for your love, support, guidance and always cheering me on even when the going gets tough. My dad, who’s been my coach since I was seven is with me here to share this win, I couldn’t have done this without him. To my San Diego family watching, you better save me a beer at the Hard Deck when I come visit next week,” she winks, knowing the squad would get a kick out of it. Then Y/n softens, “and finally to my boyfriend, Javy, who’s with our friends in Fightertown. I love you so much, thank you for being my rock during quarantine and pushing me to do my best. I can’t wait to see you and this is for you.” Holding up the medal, Y/n blows a kiss to the screen before saying goodbye to the reporter.

Upon landing in San Diego two nights later, Y/n was greeted by a celebration from her friends. Members of the Pacific Beach Surf Club were there, as were the dagger squad. Javy met her in the middle the second she exited the terminal, lifting her in his arms. “Finally your back!! I’m so fucking proud of you!” Setting her down, he kept his arms around her and the two jumped up and down like school children in a heap of laughter.

Finally they calmed, sharing a sweet kiss. “How was your flight,” he walked when they pulled away, moving to grab her carryon back.

“Long,” she moaned, leaning into his side. “But worth it.” Soon she was surrounded by their friends. Congratulations all around, Mickey asking to see the medal, Jake saying all her drinks are on him, Nat telling her how much she missed having another girl around. “I missed you guys,” Y/n pouted, “man I wish you all could’ve been there.”

“Don’t worry, Y/n/n,” Bradley patted her shoulder, “We’ll be there in Paris.”

“That’s quite a bit away, Roo.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “but there’s no harm in planning now.”

“Let’s let the woman rest before kicking her training mode into gear,” Javy teased, earning a playful nudge from his girlfriend. Together they got her bags and headed straight for The Hard Deck. They drinked, they danced. Javy and Y/n had a rematch of their pool game.

“This feels a bit like deja vu,” she smirked, chalking up her cue. Javy winked, puckering his lips in an air kiss causing her to laugh.

For a week Y/n stayed in San Diego before flying home to Hawaii with Javy. Again she was greeted at the airport by her family and friends she’d grown up with. The local news station was present, students from schools wanting to join in on the celebration. It felt amazing to be home after two weeks away.

They settled in at her Honolulu home, finding the perfect place to display her medal and ordered take out since neither was in the mood to cook after a 6 ½ hour flight. Once finished with dinner Y/n gave her boyfriend a knowing look, “Wanna watch the sunset?”

She didn’t mean sitting on her porch or even the sand. No, she meant taking the boards and laying out on the sea as the calm surface of the water kept them afloat.

Javy agreed, rushing to get his swim trunks on while she put on a swimsuit. Grabbing their boards they locked up the house and jogged the quarter of a mile to the beach, paddling out to get a front row seat of the descending sun. Colors of bright orange and pink painted the sky. A beautiful contrast to the deep blues of the ocean.

“Is this heaven?” He whispered, finding her eyes staring back at him from where her cheek pressed to the board. All the love conveying in the simple look. And with her gentle words, Javy felt all the worry and unease he ever experienced lift from his soul.

“More like paradise.”

……………….

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