#i slept through my second flight yesterday so i didn’t eat any of the plane meals

[cinematicnomad]

jet lag is a bitch. i landed around 1AM last night, got to my hotel by 3ish while wide awake, forced myself to nap around 4AM, woke up at 7:30AM, tried to stay awake and only made it to noon, and woke up for real around 7:30PM so now i’m. wide awake again just in time for night lol. just ordered my first meal since 11AM YESTERDAY at the munich airport and now have to prepare for a campus visit tomorrow with lots of presentations. awesome. 🙃

[lovemeleo]

Me without You (Pt. 3)

As promised, I finally have Part 3 of Me without You! Yes, there will be at least one more part.

Nuny and the SW world belong to the lovely @lumosinlove.

If you haven’t read it yet, here’s Part 1 Part 2 and you can read my entire Nuny series here on ao3.

cw: coming out and unsupportive parents

“They.. They what?” Jackson asked, though he had definitely heard him. It was more in disbelief.

Zhenya sniffled, a rustling coming through the phone as he wiped at his face, “We had dinner t-tonight. Just three of us and I’m tell them about us. And-” His voice broke off again, the sound muffled.

Running a hand through his hair anxiously, Jackson paced outside the zoo restaurant, “Hey, Zhenya, baby. Take a deep breath for me.” He heard a shaky inhale in reply before continuing, “There you go, you’re doing so good.”

The other man’s sobs slowly calmed down, his breathing a bit shaky before he went on, “Papa got so angry, never heard him yell like that. Say so many bad things, terrible. Mama tried to calm him but he just keep going, told me to leave a-and never come back.” Zhenya rasped out, his voice scratchy through the phone.

“Where are you right now, Z?” Jackson asked, his chest aching as he tried to stay calm. He needed to be supportive, Zhenya didn’t need him freaking out as well.

Zhenya let out a shaky breath, Jackson could tell he was running his hand through his hair. It was tell they both shared when they were anxious. “At hotel nearby. Don’t know where else to go. Could go to family but they ask questions, and I don’t want to answer.”

“Do you want me there? I’ll come. I’ll get on the next flight, babe.” Jackson asked, already itching to start searching flights.

“Can’t ask you to do that, котенок. So far, too expensive.”

Zhenya could barely get out his sentence before Jackson cut him off, “No, that’s not what I asked, Zhenya. Do you want me there?” He repeated.

There was a pause at the other end of the line before Zhenya let out a breath, “Da. Please. Want you here, котенок.”

Jackson was already walking back to the restaurant, “Okay, I’ll be there. I’m gonna go home, pack my bag and then I’ll head to the airport, okay?”

“Alright. Okay, send me flight info. I pick you up,” Zhenya paused. “Jackson?”

Jackson stopped, his eyebrows furrowing, “Yeah babe?”

“I love you. Love you so much.”

A small flurry of butterflies appeared in Jackson’s stomach, as they always did when Zhenya said that to him, “I love you too, always.”

What sounded like a small sigh of relief came from the other end of the phone, “Always. See you soon.” Zhenya whispered before the line clicked off.

Jackson let out a shaky breath before heading back into the restaurant to quickly fill Brady in on what was happening. The other man’s face gradually fell as he listened, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Fuck, that’s horrible,” Brady said, his face filled with worry.

Olivia tugged at his shirt, her other hand pointing at him accusingly, “Bad word. I’ma tell mumma you swore!”

Letting out a sigh, Brady kissed the top of her head, “Sorry, munchkin. I’ll put a dollar in the jar when I get home.” He replied before turning back to Jackson. “Want me to drive you to the airport?”

“Nah, man, you’ve still gotta take the kids to see Liv’s penguins. Just gonna take a Lyft home and go pack. I’ll keep you updated though.” Jackson said. After getting a ride called, he quickly said his goodbyes before heading to the front of the zoo where the car waited.

The entire ride his heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. He knew there was a possibility of this happening, a very large possibility. But how do you prepare for something like that? For your boyfriend’s parents to just throw him out while he’s thousands of miles away from you? You don’t. You can’t.

As the car got closer to their house, Jackson quickly started searching for flights, looking for the fastest flight that was coming up. He had to go to a different airport than the first time he went to Russia, as Zhenya was in Magnitogorsk and not Moscow. He was able to find one that was leaving in an hour and a half and decided Fuck it. Not even bothering to look at the price, he bought it and sent the information to Zhenya. When they pulled up in front of their place, he jumped out of the car, yelling his thanks as he ran into the house.

Less than two hours later, Jackson was on his way to Russia. His feet tapped anxiously under his seat as he watched the clouds go by. Ten more hours. All he wanted was to already have Zhenya with him, to hold him close and protect him from the bullshit of the world. Jackson knew how nervous his boyfriend was for this trip, and obviously it was for good reason… Nine hours and 59 minutes.

Leaning back in his seat, Jackson’s eyes began to droop. The adrenaline began to wear off as he finally was able to settle down. This was the second time he had made an abrupt trip to Russia, but at least Zhenya knew he was coming this time. Throwing his headphones in, he decided to try and get some sleep. He’d be landing there in the morning anyways.

**

After ten hours of dozing on and off, eating not totally terrible airplane food and annoying his seatmates with his tapping feet, Jackson finally landed. He had never wanted to be off an airplane as much as he did right now, knowing that Zhenya was waiting for him.

Quickly grabbing his carry-on, Jackson made his way off the plane. All he wanted to do was sprint towards the front door and jump into Zhenya’s arms, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not here. He’d have to wait till they were back at the hotel… or at least in his car.

Even in Russia, Zhenya was one of the tallest people around. He stood next to his car, hood pulled up over overly-ruffled hair. Jackson quickly walked over, dragging his bags back behind him before stopping in front of Zhenya. The taller man’s eyes were red-rimmed, it didn’t look like he had slept at all.

“Hi Zhenya..” Jackson murmured softly, his hands itching to reach out and pull his boyfriend close, protecting him from all the bad things.

A small smile, tired but a smile nonetheless, appeared on Zhenya’s face, “Hi котенок.” He whispered before taking one of his bags. “We switch up this time. Now baby Canadian come rescue me.”

“I’ll always come to rescue you, Zhenya.” Jackson said as they both put his bags in the trunk before getting in the car. He had never been so happy for Zhenya’s tinted windows as he reached across the center console, pulling the other man in for a kiss.

Zhenya rested his forehead on Jackson’s as they pulled away, letting out a shaky breath, “Thank you.. Thank you for coming.”

Nodding, Jackson intertwined their fingers, “Always.”

The ride was quiet as they made their way to the hotel. It wasn’t long, Zhenya pulled into a parking garage by the hotel less than 10 minutes later before they quickly made their way up to his room.

As soon as the door was closed, Zhenya was in his arms, his face pressed into Jackson’s shoulders. He held on as if he was afraid Jackson would disappear if he let go.

Jackson wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, holding Zhenya tight as he felt the shaking in his shoulders, “I’ve got you, babe. It’s going to be alright,” He murmured. “Why don’t we lay down, Zhenya? Yeah? You need to get some sleep.”

Letting himself be pulled to the bed, Zhenya waited till Jackson laid down before sprawling on top of him. He let his head rest over the other man’s chest, eyes closed as he listened to the steady beat of his boyfriend’s heart. Laying here with Jackson, Zhenya knew everything would be okay, even if it didn’t feel like it right now.

“Do you wanna talk about it, baby?” Jackson softly asked, his fingers running gently through Zhenya’s hair.

The Russian man let out a breath, his grip tightening on Jackson’s shirt, “I-I..I know it’s bad to go in with hopes up. But I hoped. I hoped it would be okay. But not good idea. Stupid..” He whispered, his voice breaking.

Jackson gently pulled Zhenya up to face him, his fingers tracing carefully over the other man’s jaw, “Baby, no. It’s not stupid to hope that your parents will support you. That’s the exact opposite of stupid. They’re your parents, and you look up to them and you love them and all you want is their love and support in return. And to have that yanked away from you in one conversation, it’s horrible.. It’s the worst. And I’m sorry they hurt you the way that they did.”

As the tears began falling again, Zhenya pressed his face into Jackson’s chest, unable to hold back the sobs any longer, “P-Papa say it’s wrong, we’re wrong. B-but I know that’s not true. I know we’re right.”

“We are right, baby. We are. There’s nothing wrong with our love and if your papa doesn’t see that, that’s his problem.” Jackson whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He held him close as he cried, knowing he needed to get it out.

The tears began to slow as Zhenya fell asleep, his entire body curled up so he could cuddle close to Jackson’s side. It was obvious he hadn’t slept since he left his parent’s house yesterday.

Careful to not wake his boyfriend, Jackson grabbed his bag from where he set it next to the bed. He didn’t want to leave the other man’s side so after plugging in his phone and texting Brady, he curled up with him again, his arm going around his waist.

Just as he was about to doze off, a soft knock came from the hotel door. Jackson sat up carefully, trying not to jostle his boyfriend as he made his way to the door. Expecting a worker from the hotel, his eyes widened when he opened the door.

“Mrs. Kuznetsov..”

[chilling-seavey]

Qui Totum Vult Totum Perdit (d.s.) - 4

A/N Oops early post. I couldn’t contain myself

Warnings: This story is centered around a murder so there will be graphic descriptions of blood, death/manslaughter, dealing with corpses, possible domestic abuse (physical/verbal), crime/covering up a crime, shock/grief, and other possibly heavy or triggering topics. Please read at your own discretion.

The muffle of heavy footsteps outside the front door had Jonah and I halting our breaths in our chests in anticipation. We were expectedly on edge. Thankfully, it was just the mail delivery and the security sensor at the front step set off a little notification noise from the main monitor that was set up on the kitchen counter. When the metal mailbox closed and the footsteps faded back towards the street, I moved over to the main monitor and typed in the code and scrolled through the notification menu. The film footage from the studio was still gone but it was listed as having been deleted around 8pm the night before.

“Anything of interest?” Jonah asked.

“Not really.” I mumbled and turned back to face him. “I’m going to look around a little more.”

“Alright. I’ll look around here.” he looked me up and down, “Maybe change your clothes while you’re at it.”

I glanced down at my white hoodie and white jeans, both pieces of clothing stained dark red all up the back from where I had been laying all night and my bloody handprint was smeared over the chest of my hoodie. Good idea.

I returned to the master bedroom and set my laptop bag on the bed and let my computer turn on while I headed into the walk-in closet to find clean clothes. The two garment bags hanging on the far wall in front of the mirror had me stopping in place with my hand on the light switch. I hesitated as if not having expected them to be there; even if I had known they would be returned home by Jonah and my brother along with the wedding gifts two weeks ago. I shuffled over to unzip the first black garment bag, dragging my hand down the smooth white dress that had been hidden underneath. A few smudges of red were left behind from my touch and I pulled my hand back quickly and wiped my blood-stained fingers on my pants.

I forced myself to swallow back any feelings as I zipped the bag back up and focused my attention on pulling black jeans from the shelf and a black t-shirt from a hanger. I took them into the ensuite bathroom and closed the door behind me as if I were trying to shut out something or suddenly needed some privacy. Funny that the only invasive things in the damn house was the weird feeling of guilt and realization and utter confusion that was eating me alive.

My hands were holding myself up on the edge of the counter and I was breathing hard, staring myself in the eye through the spotless mirror. Avalon always liked things clean.

Although I had been passed out on my studio floor for God knows how long that night, I still looked like I hadn’t slept in weeks. I seemed to have a layer of drying blood all over me and it matted my dyed blonde hair down in unattractive dark clumps and stained my white clothes evilly. The dark circles under my eyes didn’t seem like they were just from the flight home and the pale complexion that stared back at me didn’t even feel like my own. I ran my hand over my face, staring at how my slightly sticky fingers tugged at my skin, drawing more attention to my eyes and dry lips…honestly, who was I? My wife was dead – her throat slit and she was left to bleed out – and I was more worried about my face in the mirror.

I could see her eyes in my mind. Those lifeless brown eyes staring at me with all the unrevealable answers to the world. And yet, only days before, she was looking up at me with those same honey brown eyes, full of love and lust, on a king size bed in Costa Rica and whispering how much she loved me.

You have to understand, dear reader, that I had no clue what I was doing or what I was feeling. So you cannot truly blame me when the only reaction to my current situation was my body sending me to my knees in front of the toilet to throw up the limited plane food in my stomach as the metallic smell of blood flooded my senses. It was all too much.

I didn’t know what we had to do next, but I knew that whatever the plan was going to be, we had to move quickly. So I stripped out of my blood-stained clothes and into the clean ones, only stopping long enough to wipe any blood from my skin with a damp cloth until I looked reasonably tame in my reflection. I wet my hair under the tap to get the worst of the blood out of it and ruffled it with a towel before saying ‘good enough’ and headed back to the bedroom.

If I was in fact a murderer, no amount of water was going to cleanse this conscious.

I sat on the edge of the bed and typed in my password to my laptop. The screen loaded and brought up the last tab that was open; the flight information home. The site had updated and stated that the plane had landed on time at LAX yesterday evening and my credit card receipt showed the taxi payment for thirty minutes later. We were home around 7:00. Other than confirming the times at which we returned home, the laptop didn’t offer much assistance.

What did I expect? The screen to read out exactly how my wife was murdered?

Jonah came into the room, “Hey. Find anything?”

I glanced up at him before looking back down at the screen, biting anxiously at my fingernail, “No. Don’t remember anything more either.”

Jonah didn’t answer, letting me have a moment to collect my thoughts. I didn’t blame him; what do you say to your best friend who possibly just murdered their wife and doesn’t remember it. I swiped my finger over the trackpad on my laptop to bring up the other window that was open; iMessage. The last conversation thread that was up was between Avalon and me. I remembered it well.

I was down at the resort bar the night before we left. Jonah had sent me a recording that he wanted my opinions on and I had a few changes I wanted to make so I took myself downstairs with my headphones and my laptop and got some work in. Cocktail in one hand and mouse in the other, I worked until the notification popped up on the bottom menu of my screen.

It would be nice if you spent our last night up here with me.

I had ignored it, huffing and rolling my eyes at her constant pestering and minimized the window again.

God…stupid me. That would have been our last night together. And she didn’t even face towards me when I finally came to bed.

“You weren’t around me!” she yelled, tapping her hand against the cup in her hand so the sound of her ring against the glass punctuated each of her words. “What person wants to spend their honeymoon alone? Of course, I wanted to go home! I was basically there by myself and I was miserable!”

“I had to get some shit done! Jonah needed me to double check a few things while we were away. It’s not the end of the world and I’m sorry if you feel that way!”

I could see her visibly tense and she turned her head so she didn’t have to look at me, jabbing under her breath, “That’s always your excuse, isn’t it? ‘Always gotta get some shit done’. Well, I’m sick and tired of coming second to your work all the time.”

I made her miserable.

“Jonah.” I breathed, turning to look at him over the top of my laptop, “What if she killed herself?”

“She didn’t seem suicidal.” Jonah said.

“Yeah.” I sighed, turning back to the screen. I let out a heavy breath and closed my laptop and tucked it back in the case. “We have to decide what to do.”

“Alright. What are you thinking?” Jonah asked.

I thought for a moment as I set my laptop bag back on top of the untouched suitcase by the wall, “I don’t know. I need time to figure out what the hell happened.”

“Do you want to head to the lodge in Utah? It will buy you a few days and maybe we can figure out what happened by then.”

I nodded, letting out a deep breath, “Yeah, okay. That probably makes the most sense.”

I walked past Jonah and out of the master bedroom, stopping shuffle through the mail that had been collected by Jonah and Christian throughout the last three weeks and placed in a decorative bowl on the front console table. I ruffled through a few bills and random mailer coupons, just to make sure I wasn’t missing anything that I might want to take with me out of state. My search stopped dry at one crisp white envelope, addressed to our house and labelled with simply Avalon with no surname. I frowned and slid my finger under the sealed flap to tear it open.

“Bro, opening other people’s mail is a federal offence.” Jonah stated as he joined me by the table.

“She’s dead, Jonah. I don’t think it really matters anymore.” I answered flatly and pulled out the folded piece of lined stationary from the envelope.

Avalon,

Things are hard right now and I get that but shutting me out isn’t going to help anyone. You can’t give up on me. I really want to see you when you get home. Please let me know when you get this. I need to make things right.

-J

My heart felt like someone was pushing it through a juicer and I frowned down at the paper as I read it a second time. The second time didn’t make it hurt any less. I rubbed my hand over my chest and then ruffled it through my damp hair.

“What the fuck is this?” I breathed. I looked at Jonah, “Who’s J? Is it you?”

“Me? Why would I write her suspicious letters when I can just text her?” Jonah replied.

“Yeah.” I sighed and looked back down at the letter. I clenched my jaw and swallowed back the hurt and strange glimmer of jealousy that was bubbling up inside my empty stomach. “Maybe there’s something on her phone.”

Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee​ @randomlimelightxxx​ @stuffofseaveyy​ @hopinglimelight​ @tempus-ut-luceant​ @br4nd1s​ @xkelsev​ @hiya-its-amber​ @sexyseavey15​

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Small Time Witch (12)

Your meeting with Director Fury went better than you thought it would. He thought it was probably best for you to move to the compound. You shared with him how nervous you were that Hellphyr would destroy them like he destroyed your coven. He suggested when you return to the States that you have a meeting with Doctor Strange. At least he would be able to help you ward the place. You agreed to let him call on you if he ever needed you. He promised to continue to help you with the Kales. You shook hands and turned in your tac suit. He refused to take it back. “Maybe you’ll need it some day.”

You found Tony to tell him the good news. “So, boss, does Monday work for you?”

He clicked his tongue and drew you in for a hug. “I’ll have HR start the paperwork.”

“Great. That will give me a few days to find a place.”

“You’ll stay with us. We have the room. You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

“Famous last words.” You smiled and ducked out. The clock was ticking. You weren’t sure if Steve was just messing with you but he gave you serious dom vibes. You got excited thinking of what fifty shades of red white and blue would be like.

On your way back you ran into Loki coming out of his room. “Where are you rushing off to, Pet?”

“To meet Steve.” You couldn’t meet his eyes. Waves of jealousy radiated off of him. “I’m sorry.”

“No need. I won’t keep you then. When we get back can you make some time for me?” You held his hand. His body stiffened. You wanted to hug him but eyes were everywhere. This was not the time to make the plane ride home a contentious one.

“Of course, Lok. Are you ok?” He pulled his hand away. That stung a little.

“Never better. You’d better go. Don’t want to keep him waiting.” You smiled at each other and quickened your pace to Steve’s room.

He wasn’t there yet (thank goodness). You showered and got in bed. Following his instructions you let your hands wander to your pussy. Your thoughts went back to yesterday when he had you melting in his hands. You slipped in two fingers. Your other hand furiously rubbed your clit bringing you to the brink of crashing. Before you could you stopped. He told you not to come. Once it felt safe you went back to work. You took your time teasing your nipples. Tasting yourself. You let your fingers roam and explore your cunt bringing you to the brink again. This time you decided to stop completely until he got back.

It was well over an hour. You were reading when a message from Steve popped up on the screen.

SR: Sorry this is taking so long, baby. I’m trying to find an excuse to get out of here. I hope you’re following Captain’s orders. That pussy had better be dripping when I get back.

Perhaps to give him a bit of motivation you sent him a video to show exactly how wet you were. Sam was sitting next to him at the table. Steve tried to hide his phone but was unsuccessful.

“If you don’t run to that woman right now I will” Sam whispered. Steve turned every shade of red imaginable.

“Don’t look at my girl, Sam.”

“I didn’t see much. Her hand was in the way. I’m serious. These fools have been droning on for almost two hours. I’ll take notes. Get out of here.” Steve stood to excuse himself.

“Are we boring you, Captain Rogers? Somewhere more important to be?” Secretary Ross scolded.

“Bathroom, Mr. Secretary.” The man rolled his eyes and continued talking. He took large strides across camp ignoring everyone who called out to him. When he got back to the room you were sprawled out on the bed. He was positively salivating at the sight of you.

He growled low in his throat causing you to giggle. He was out of his sweats and on top of you in less than thirty seconds. His lips crushed yours desperately trying to devour you. “Sorry I was late. They wouldn’t shut up.” he said against your mouth. You breathed hard against him bringing him in for more hard kisses. He brought his hand down to feel you. When your slick coated his fingers he smiled, “Good girl. I’ll bet you’re ready to come.” You whined “Yeah you are. Come on, Princess. Give me what I want.” His words were your undoing. You moaned his name while he fucked you with his fingers. He inserted a third then a fourth finger while his thumb slowly massaged your clit. It was only minutes until you came again.

He could not take it anymore. His cock was hard to the point of pain. He rolled to his back and pulled you on top. You lowered yourself down gingerly feeling your orgasm build again. The stretch was too much. As soon as your clit brushed his pelvic bone you were a goner. “What is that? Three now? Let’s go for five. I know you can.” You ground down on him rocking your hips into your fourth orgasm. “Yes, baby. You feel so good.” You clenched around him and your whole body froze. You were dizzy so you braced yourself against his shoulders. “Get on all fours” he commanded. As soon as you positioned yourself he aggressively slammed into you. He kept the same pace urging you to hold on. “You ready, baby?” He thrusted one final time and he spilled everything inside of you.

You crawled towards the pillow completely out of breath. He laid next to you and pulled you in to lay on his chest. “You know, Steve, it occurred to me that we haven’t been on a third date yet.” He laughed.

“Yeah I thought about that. I usually don’t show anyone this side of me until we’re a solid two months in.”

“It did shock me how much of a freak you are.”

“I hope a good shock.”

You kissed his chest, “A great shock. Let’s go on a proper date when we get back. Dinner and a movie.”

“I’m up for that. I like this too. I just like spending time with you. If it happens to lead somewhere I’m not angry about it.”

You giggled to yourself. You thought Steve Rogers was living a chaste life only focused on avenging. At least that’s what all the girls at SHIELD thought. They all flirted with him when he came to the main office. Thinking back on it, you had too. You were sure that he didn’t remember. Even still, it was fairly well known that Steve was a virgin or at least that he was a born again virgin after coming out of the ice. Turns out he’s been out there fucking.

“So what did you tell Tony?” he was glad to change the subject. Yes, he had an active sex life. Doesn’t mean he wants to talk about it.

“That I would start on Monday. I’m moving into the compound. In my own room, of course.”

“Of course. Was Fury pissed?”

“No. He thought it was a good idea. I have to meet with Doctor Strange when we get back. Between him and Loki and Wanda I think we can protect the compound from any magical attack.” The mere mention of Loki’s name made him clench his jaw and grip you tighter.

He didn’t want to ask about Loki because he was not about to tell you how to live your life. He couldn’t help but feel like he would worry less if Loki stuck around. Then again, he didn’t quite trust him around you. The two of you seemed to have a special bond. He was sure he was overreacting. Never the less he had a pit in his stomach every time you were alone together. You two seemed to have your own language. Bucky mentioned on more than one occasion that he was sure the two of you had a thing. He decided to leave it alone for now.

You fell into a comfortable silence just enjoying one another. Your stomach growled loudly waking you from your dream state. He laughed and you hid your face in embarrassment. “I’m hungry too. Hang tight. I’m going to see what I can find and we’ll have a bed picnic.”

“I’ll come with you.” He pressed his palm into your chest lowering you back down onto the bed.

“You thought I was done? You don’t get to get dressed today, Princess. I plan on making you come several more times.”

“Captain Rogers!” You feigned outrage like a southern damsel, “You are nothing but a scoundrel, sir.” He smacked your ass and winked as he left the room.

He got back to the room only to find you passed out cold. Snoring even. He quietly put down the tray of snacks on the bedside table. He tried to make himself as light as possible so he didn’t wake you when he got into bed. He crawled like a cat between your legs and buried his tongue in your snatch. Your eyes flew open and you arched your back. You whined and panted while he moaned back in encouragement. His voice reverberated through your core and sent you over the edge. You grabbed the bed sheets trying to hold on for dear life as he kitten licked you back down.

He came up for air and wiped his face on a towel. “I couldn’t find food food so I brought all snacks.” He tossed you a muffin and a bottle of juice.

“Are you for real, Rogers? You made me cum like a million times...”

“Six” he said between gulps of water.

“....six times and then you feed me carbs? Carbs! You’re like amazing.”

“Thanks. Carbs are for quick energy. You need protein too. That provides lasting energy which you will need.” He handed you a half of a turkey sandwich. “Eat up. I’m not nearly done with you yet.” You rolled your eyes and took the sandwich. So bossy.

By the time you were finished both of you were exhausted sore and dehydrated. You drained a bottle of water in seconds trying to replenish what you had lost. You were sticky and sweaty. You were pretty sure you smelled. You didn’t even want to see what your hair looked like. He didn’t care. In his sleep he clutched you like he was afraid you’d float away. He was your anchor in these dark waters.

When you woke up the next morning there was more fucking then shower sex followed by breakfast then one more quickie in the plane hanger. You were like a couple of horny teenagers and he could not get enough of you. You slept a deep dreamless sleep on the way home. He spent the better part of the flight planning your proper date.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

The Things You Find (In The Rain) Tom Hiddleston x ofc Chapter 1

Good Morning, everyone. Here it is, as promised, chapter one of four. As is always the case with my writing, this is OC concentric. Thank @winterisakiller because she’s an awesome cheerleader who has watched this develop from a one shot to four chapters as Maggie’s story unfolded. Tag lists are always open. 

Series warnings: Cheating, light violence, unhealthy relationships, Evan’s an ass

Chapter warnings: Evan’s an ass, unhealthy relationships, cheating, Light sexual content (nothing explicate)

Summary: Maggie and Evan had just married and were honeymooning in London. He was a difficult man but Maggie was a kind and forgiving soul. She loved him with all she was and when that is thrown away, not even 72 hours after they said their ‘I Do’s, what’s a girl to do? Except perhaps hit up ever bar her feet can take her to while the night sky opens up above her. When Tom’s out walking Bobby in the rain, he’s thankful. It’s true that beast will come into the house muddy and wet. He’ll even likely make a mess. But in the rain, even fewer were out this time of night and he was allowed the simple peace of walking around the park like any other man. In the rain no one expected him to take pictures with them. No one expected him to sign anything. In the rain, no one expected anything of him. 

Chapter 1

Maggie gathered her wavy brown hair behind her head and secured it with a band, though it was a challenge in the cramped too cold space of the airplane without elbowing the sleeping woman sitting next to her. She leaned her head onto Evan’s shoulder, stealing what comfort she could from the two pillows behind his back and closed her eyes for a moment with the goal of stealing a few moments of rest herself.

It had been a busy day, full of stress and excitement both but so worth it in the end. Early this morning, or perhaps it was technically yesterday due to the time changes, she had married the man she hoped would be her forever. The day had begun before dawn but was magical, just as he had said it would be. In the end, she felt silly for doubting him. Getting married while standing in the morning dew had been picture perfect.

Still, she was tired after spending what amounted to half a day on the plane after the short reception. Today (or yesterday?) their lives together would begin and Maggie felt hopeful as she peeked out the window before closing her eyes again.

Evan forcefully shrugged his shoulder before pushing her back into her seat while grumbling, “Get your big head off me. I’m trying to sleep.”

Maggie understood, he was tired. He probably hadn’t slept well the night before. She knew she hadn’t slept more than a few passing moments before her four in the morning wake up call in the form of her now Mother-in-law arrived. It was true, he had gotten to sleep in longer than her on the morning of their wedding but at this point anyone would have been running on fumes.

She understood and Maggie forgave. That’s what she was good at, after all. Her friends and family sung praises for how she could understand any hardship and forgive any trespass.

Landing in London was a whirlwind of activity not dissimilar to her wedding, though a whole different event. Evan was snappy with everyone they encountered but she had expected as much. He never did seem to function well on less than nine hours of sleep. Still they both had managed to catch a good amount of sleep during the nearly ten hour flight and when they managed to land Evan was adamant that they needed to quickly adjust to the new time zone.

The trip was to last three weeks and Maggie was excited. She’d never been to London. In truth, she had hardly ever left the small town she had grown up in. It was a blessing she had ever met Evan. His plane had been grounded in the small town airport due to a mechanical failure of some sort. He had been on his way to a business meeting in New York and was already dressed in a sharp suit. She fell in love the moment her eyes met his across the airport gift shop.

She tried to take in all the sights she could as Evan loaded their suitcases up into the taxi. This was a whole new country, one she had never even begun to dream of visiting. Now she was getting to honeymoon here with the man who opened the door to the world for her.

He got short with the driver just as he had been with everyone else. Still, Maggie tried to put it out of mind. He was tired. They would rest and he would feel better after. He would be better after.

“We’ll check into the hotel and head out for dinner.”

“Let’s order in instead?” Maggie offered. She was tired, she didn’t want to change and go out. What she wanted was to slip into some pajamas and curl up in front of the TV watching god knows what and eating whatever they could get delivered to the door. Sipping a glass of wine in the arms of the man she promised forever to would make it all the better.

“It’s our first day as man and wife. We need to go out and be together.” Evan stated as if that was a law written somewhere.

“Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A shower and a change of clothes later, Maggie was rushed as she put her makeup on. Foundation worked wonders to make her appear more awake. Evan complained about how long she was taking and so she put aside her desire to do anything fancy with her eye makeup. Rather, she grabbed a few trusty colors and the same eyeliner she wore every day and did what a slightly fancier version of her everyday look.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she tried to spot what he saw in her. Her brown hair was a controlled mass of waves. Overall, she found herself to look average. She so badly wanted to look beautiful, to feel beautiful. If she had taken the time, maybe she could have but today it simply wasn’t to be.

They went to a french restaurant and Evan ordered for them right away. Maggie hadn’t even gotten a chance to look at the menu but she wasn’t surprised. He was so much more cultured than she, his choice was probably what she would have defaulted to anyway.

At one point she found this sort of behavior romantic but now she simply found it tiring. She would again come to love his thoughtful recommendations of food when they dine out, in time. It was surely because of him that she liked most of unknown things she had tried. Still, she had married the man and so she would learn to love things about him that she had found herself struggling with in the recent months.

That was what her parents advice had been to her when she confided in them her struggles. It takes compromise to make a marriage work, her father had said. Her mother spoke of not always loving her father in the same way, that their love was always shifting and changing. She chewed her lips as she watched her father look at her mother with unashamed adoration. Their lesson was that love changes over time and that she must be willing to be flexible with her heart so that she and Evan would always come back together.

Evan was more interested in his phone than he was her during their meal. With a heavy heart, she poked at her pasta, pushing it around the plate with her fork and drank first one glass of wine than another. She had wanted to spend time with him, to talk with him and be together. Wasn’t that the point of going out for dinner?

Going to London was something she had dreamed of her whole life. Still, she knew he had to work and was likely working remotely even as they sat and ate. She needed to allow him to do so. It was through his work that he was able to provide for her and support them. This trip wasn’t something he really wanted to take in the first place. It was his wedding gift to her. She should be thankful. She would be thankful.

After a dinner largely eaten in silence, Evan surprised her with the suggestion of going to the first pub they had seen across the street. It was starting to get late, she was tired- so very tired- but the atmosphere and energy of the room gave her a second wind. Still, Evan was focused on his phone mainly as they drank their first drinks, an ale and yet another glass of wine. Maggie ordered herself a second drink and once it arrived Evan rather suddenly downed the rest of his ale as if he were a man in the desert.

Sliding the empty glass toward the bartender, Evan announced, “I’m going back to the hotel.”

“I’ll come with you.” Maggie rushed to stand but he put a heavy hand on her shoulder and pushed her back into her seat. It was almost painful, but she told herself she would grow to love the way he made sure she didn’t put herself last just because he was tired.

“Stay. Don’t waste your drink. This is what you wanted anyway.” Maggie wasn’t sure what to say as she watched him walk away. If she pushed to go with him he would just get upset. And she did just get another drink. He was tired, she told herself as she settled in to finish her drink.

Once the glass was empty she was left to debate if she should go back or not. She was so tired and more than a bit tipsy from the two glasses of wine at dinner and two at the pub.

A smile graced her lips as she stepped outside and began the short walk to the hotel. This trip was a dream come true even if it didn’t always go according to how she would like it.

Maggie’s heels clicked against the sidewalk as a light, almost misting rain began to fall. It felt good. The city lights seemed to blink and dance around her and for a short moment she felt like she was living in her own fairy tale. So what if today wasn’t the magical day she had hoped for- there was tomorrow. And they day after. They had the rest of their lives to spend together making magical memories.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maggie didn’t think anything of the evening as she walked down the hall. It hadn’t been the best night for them as a couple but that was how it goes. At least, she told herself that. She wanted to believe it. With a deep breath, Maggie slipped her keycard into the lock of the suite door and her whole world shattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door opened easily under her touch. The lights in the hall seemed suddenly too harsh. The room was cool and she could hear the room’s AC unit running. Everything was wrong in that way that’s just subtle enough that you can’t quite put your finger on it in the moment. Evan didn’t like to sleep in a cold room. The only time he liked to be in a cool room was when making love.

The sound of moans slowly penetrated her ears. It was probably the television, she told herself. Still the idea that he went back to the hotel to get himself off while watching a cheap movie when he could have her stung. They were just married, had he already grown bored with her body? Was she not pleasing to him anymore?

She stepped into the short hall and closed the door behind her softly. Taking a moment to let him finish up, she opened the clutch purse that hung from her shoulder by a delicate chain and pulled out her cards and set them on the table by the door. It would make remembering to switch purses easier in the morning.

It felt like she was moving through a fog. In the main room she could see flickering light as if he had lit candles. Had he intended for her to rush back, follow him for a romantic surprise? Had Evan resorted to pleasuring himself when she ruined his plan? That would be just like her, to not catch on to what probably had been obvious clues.

The sounds in the room slowly became clearer in her mind. Hesitant steps took her closer even as a ball of liquid iron seemed to take residence in her stomach. She could hear Evan’s moans and in her heart she knew he wasn’t giving himself pleasure. She knew.

The moans of a woman seemed to stab at her heart with each breathy cry. The headboard of the bed lightly tapped against the wall. With tears in her eyes, Maggie stepped out of the hallway bringing the bed into view. Her whole future shattered before her eyes as the first tear slipped down her cheek.

It’s weird, the things that the mind focuses on in times of great trauma and distress. Later, she would remember vividly the view of Evan’s ass moving and how she had somehow never noticed the large three moles on his left ass cheek. It occurred to her that he was always quick to dress, if he ever actually lost all his clothes in the first place after sleeping together.

Now however, he was bare as the day his mother had birthed him as he moved above a woman. She had a dark tan, one like Maggie would never be able to sport- she burned for too easily. The woman also had dark straight hair, nearly black. Maggie wondered what color her eyes were as she watched the woman’s back arc up and press her full breasts up into Evan’s chest.

A lusty moan slipped out from between the woman’s lips as Maggie watched Evan’s left hand grip the woman’s thigh, pulling her leg up higher along his waist. Vividly, she saw that his left hand was unadorned. The ring that had not even lived on his thick finger for a week was absent.

“Allie.”

The sound of Evan moaning what Maggie could only assume was the woman’s name cut her straight to her core like a red hot knife. That small part of her heart that was somehow still in one piece shattered within her chest. Floodgates opened and tears began to fall in earnest from her wide eyes as she looked on in stunned silence.

Maggie reached out blindly, bracing herself against the dresser as she watched her husband pound into another woman. He fucked her like he had never fucked Maggie and she wondered if something was wrong with her. Surely there had to be a reason why he showed such passion with this unknown women. There had to be a reason why he moaned softly in her ear, called out her name. She had to have something that Maggie lacked.

Her knees gave out and she crashed against the dresser. The palm of her hand slid across the smooth surface and her fingers smashed against the large glass jar candle. The liquid wax sloshed over the edge and burned her fingers before the jar was sent to the ground, spilling what was left of the was on the expensive hotel carpet.

She cried out and clutched her hand to her chest as she fell to the ground in a heap. Evan sat up quickly, shoving the startled woman off the bed as if Maggie was some sort of baby and simply having the naked woman out of sight would remove her existence from her mind.

“Maggie-” His mouth was moving but there was no sound. She tried to listen, really she did. He had to have a reason. There had to be an explanation. It would be a good one. It would make sense. It would be right.

She couldn’t hear what he was saying over her own blood rushing in her ears. The pain in her hand was subsiding as she rubbed the wax off and staggered to her feet. The world was spinning and yet somehow she could clearly see Evan rushing to his feet, pushing a pillow into his crotch to cover himself.

Each step he took toward her made bile rise in her throat. He was talking, saying something but she couldn’t focus on the words enough to hear them. She expected him to look sorry or remorseful. Even horrified would have been an expected reaction. Instead, he looked angry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tom Hiddleston was a man in high demand recently. His career had taken off with his role in the Avengers films and there was nothing he looked forward too as much as time at home where he had to do nothing except be himself. He would have the freedom to do everything he wanted and nothing he didn’t wish to do.

It was a simple pleasure not too long ago he had often enough. Not long ago at all, he got to sleep in his bed most nights. He was beyond blessed to have his career on the path it is on. But right now, all he could think about is how he felt beyond lucky to sleep in his own bed for the first time in a solid three months. Right this second, all he knew is he was beyond lucky that Ben was out of town tonight and he would get to do nothing.

Today he wasn’t getting to do nothing all day however. Today he had spent his morning in meetings, promotional interviews by phone, Skype and one radio show. Tom wanted to sleep when he got home. He wanted to sleep for a year, eat his weight in pasta and cuddle with Bobby.

He could try to do two of those things at least. One for sure. But sleeping for a year would be hard to accomplish with his work schedule, light though it may be at the moment. Part of him contemplated how much of a hit his career would take if he did actually take a year off, rested and simply invested some time in his friends and family. He knew he couldn’t stand not working for that long but it was a nice daydream.

Looking up at the gray sky, he was pretty sure it would be a wet run tonight unless things cleared up. Rain was clearly on the way. The forecast had called for clearing skies but that had begun to look less and less likely as they day wore on. It was typical weather though no less unpleasant.

Yes, tonight he would take Bobby out for a run- rain or shine. Get them both nice and tired. Order in a late night snack and collapse on the couch and watch whatever was on. For a few short hours he could pretend to be normal and rest.

Still, somewhere deep in his heart there was a sense of foreboding. He couldn’t place his finger on it but a sense of dread had taken up residence within his chest and mind. It was probably the fatigue, he told himself. It was probably the increasingly poor weather. Really, it could have been any number of things.

He had a dinner meeting with some producers that he had to head off too before he could go home. From there, if he was lucky they wouldn’t invite him out for drinks after. Then he could be home. He could change out of the slightly too tight suit and into a loose pair of shorts and an old tee shirt and simply run until the tension worked from him. On his way back he could order up a snack, a tasty treat for how hard he had been working.

It was oddly relaxing, running. He looked forward to it as much as he looked forward to stretching out on the couch and watching TV or reading a good book after. He just had to make it through the day. After today, he had the rest of the week free. He just had to make it through today and the interviews would be done for a few weeks at least.

“Mr. Hiddleston, I apologize for the delay.” The driver’s voice startled him out of his thoughts.

“It’s no trouble.”

Tom offered a warm smile to the man he hadn’t noticed pulled up and in front of him. He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard the car door open until the driver spoke. He needed to pull himself together. Just a few more hours and then he could have a much needed break.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Tag List: @dangertoozmanykids101, @alexakeyloveloki, @0-0-0-0-0-0-0-7, @theoneanna, @bambamwolf87, @j-u-s-t-4, @wegingerangelica, @missaphrodite23, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @michelegurl

[beast-bae]

Title: Just Another Drive Home

Link: Ao3

Square Filled: Car Sex

Ship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Rating: Explict

Tags: Car Sex, Alternate Universe - Human, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Top Derek Hale, Top Derek Hale/ Bottom Stiles Stilinksi, Established Relationship, Sex in a Car, Returning Home

Summary: 

Stiles gets back from a year abroad and Derek picks him up from the airport.  

Word Count: 1823

Created for @teenwolfkinkbingo

Thanks in advance for reading <3

“Derek!” Stiles screamed when he saw him. He ran through the gate and jumped in his boyfriend’s arms. Derek caught him and pressed him close, as Stiles wrapped his legs around his midriff.

“Derek. Derek! DEREK!” he grinned and kissed him deeply, his arms around his neck. “God I missed you so much.”

“We just talked yesterday, Stiles.” Derek replied with a small smile on his face.

“We just… Derek… JESUS… Skype doesn’t count! I haven’t seen you in person for MONTHS!” Stiles exclaimed. “I just got off a plane from Europe to find out you didn’t even miss me.”

Derek leaned his forehead against Stiles’. “I can’t even put in words how much I missed you and you know that,” he said quietly before kissing him and then saying, “and now get off me, you’re heavy.”

Stiles let go of him, sulking. “I’m not heavy. Liar liar pants on fire.” He grabbed Derek’s hand and entwined their fingers. “Let’s get my bags. You’re carrying them!”

Derek sighed but he was incredibly happy that Stiles was back from his year abroad. Even though Stiles came back for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and they talked over Skype almost every day. It was more than good to have him back in the States, back at his side.

He'd missed Stiles’ endless babbles and his weird little quirks, like always having to flail around with his arms when trying to explain something.

While they picked up Stiles’ suitcase, Stiles did not once stop talking about the family who sat beside him on the plane, “... and the father. He NEVER stopped snoring. He slept the whole eleven hour flight. Horrible! Ah. That’s mine, there, Derek.” He nudged his arm. “The red one. Now we just have to wait for the second one.”

Derek grabbed the big red suitcase and pulled it off the baggage claim. “So yeah… where was I? Ah, yes, so the father was snoring so loud I could not sleep, so I had to make myself ear plugs out of tissues...” Stiles pointed out his second suitcase and Derek pulled it off too.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Yep” Stiles nodded, already having finished his rant about the family on the plane, just before going ahead to the exit. Derek followed him and definitely did not check him out from behind. Outside Derek lead them towards his Camaro. He was barely able to get both suitcases in the small trunk but he managed.

Before Derek let Stiles enter the car he gently grabbed him by the neck and pulled him close to kiss him again. “I really missed you too, Stiles. I love you so much how could I not miss you?”

Stiles grinned and after Derek finished what he said, he put his lips back on Stiles’. Derek pressed Stiles back against his car and deepened the kiss. His thumb brushing over the side of his face and his lower body pressing against Stiles’ when, suddenly, he was pinched in the back by Stiles.

“Come on. We need to go, make sure my dad doesn’t eat all of the food Melissa made,” he said before slipping under Derek’s arm and into the car. Derek groaned and let his head fall on the warm metal, then he pushed himself away from the car and went around it. By the time he entered the car and buckled up Stiles had already fiddled around with the radio and put on a indie station.

Derek started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, onto the street towards Beacon Hills. Stiles continued to talk about his flight and how sad it was to leave his European friends. While doing that he changed the radio station again, playing around with the buttons until he found a good song. Derek could not stop himself from glancing over and watching Stiles’ long, slender fingers. Occasionally he touched Derek’s biceps to regain his attention while talking and it drove him crazy but he just bit his lower lip and tried to concentrate on driving.

After a few minutes Stiles started to stretch. “Airplanes are so uncomfortable. They really could build in some comfy chairs. I mean they probably have comfortable chairs in first class but that just costs so much…” He stretched his arms over his head and his shirt rode up enough that Derek could see a small part of his happy trail when glancing over.

He pressed down on the gas pedal and took the first exit he saw onto a small forest road that looked rarely used. He stopped the car and turned off the engine.

“What the hell Derek? What are we doing - hmmpf.” Derek unbuckled his belt and leaned over the middle console to kiss Stiles and get him to stop talking.

“Stop talking.” he growled and unbuckled him. Then he pulled him over the console onto his lap.

“Jesus… Derek!” Stiles moaned and fisted his hands in Derek’s hair. “I didn’t know you missed me that much.”

“You drive me crazy Stiles.” He said between kisses. “It’s like you planned to make me like this.” Pushing his hips up he rubs his bulge in his pants against Stiles’.

He narrowed his eyes. “Stiles… don’t tell me…” Stiles avoided his eyes by looking out of the window biting his lip not to grin.

“You little shit.” He flicked Stiles nose with his finger before he kissed him again and opened his pants with his free hand, to palm Stiles’ dick through his boxers and make Stiles moan.

“Off… get it off,” said Stiles between kisses while he tried to pull Derek’s henley over his head. Derek parted them for a second to get out of his shirt and at the same time Stiles tried to get off his jeans and boxers. He almost hit his head twice and Derek once but he managed to get both off without any casualties and throw them on the backseat.

Derek leaned over and got a little bottle of lube out of the glove compartment. He squirted some on his hand and wrapped his fingers around Stiles’ dick. “You’re so hard for me Stiles. Fuck.” He started moving his hand up and down, jacking him off.

Stiles moaned and grabbed Derek’s shoulders to keep himself upright, his dick leaking pre-cum against Derek’s chest. “Derek come on… please... need your cock inside me.”

Derek released his hand from Stiles’ dick and earned a little upset noise from him. Then he got some more lube and grabbed Stiles’ ass with his clean hand to spread him slightly. He brushed over Stiles’ hole with a finger of his other hand.

Stiles moaned quietly as he pushed a first finger through the rim and Derek loved the look on his face, mouth open and eyes closed. Just a little later he added another finger and slowly started fucking and stretching him with his fingers. “Missed your fucking warm, tight hole. It’s been so long…” Between a lot more kisses he added more fingers until he was stretching Stiles’ hole with four.

Stiles, who was falling apart on Derek’s fingers, had leaned his whole weight on Derek’s chest. His dick rubbing against Derek’s abs every time Derek pushed his fingers into his loose hole. When Derek ordered him to open his pants and lube up his dick he had to push himself away from his chest, which resulted in Derek’s finger pushing deeper in him. He moaned loudly and then opened Derek’s belt and pants.

He grabbed the lube and poured some on his fingers. Shaking with pleasure he touched Derks dick and lubed it up. His fingers playing with the head and slit. “Fuck me Derek,” he whispered against Derek’s lips.

Derek moaned and captured Stiles’ lips with his while grabbing him by the hips and lifting him on his dick. Stiles angled the head against his rim and Derek lowered him down. Stiles whimpered and pushed himself downwards until he was fully seated in Derek’s lap with his dick inside of him. “Fuck, Derek… forgot how thick you are. Filling me up so good…” he moaned.

Derek grinned and started jerking his hips upward and fucking him hard and fast because he knew how much Stiles loved it. Stiles clawed his fingers in Derek’s shoulders and moaned some some unrecognizable words.

“You feel so good baby. Gonna cum in you and you’re gonna keep it inside the whole evening…” Derek kissed up his neck towards his lips. “You’re gonna feel it leak out while sitting at the dinner table, not allowed to go take a piss and to clean it up...” He grunted and tried to move faster and harder. “And tonight I’m gonna eat you out, lick my cum out of your hole and gonna make you nice and wet all over again. Gonna make you fall apart…”

His moves got unsteady and before he was about to cum he wrapped his hand around Stiles’ dick jerking him off while fucking him. Stiles came with a moan and his hole tightened around his dick. Derek grunted and came too, pumping his cum in Stiles ass.

Stiles slumped down and Derek wrapped his arms around him. “You feel so good baby. I love you so much!” Stiles made a sound like he was purring and cuddled close to Derek. They sat like this for a while before Stiles got up and Derek slipped out of him. Stiles climbed slowly over the middle console to the passenger seat. His ass in the air as he placed his knees on the console he felt Derek’s cum flow out of him and he shuddered. Derek placed his hands on Stiles ass for a second to make him stay where he was. He pressed the cum that had leaked out, back in Stiles hole. “Keep it in baby.”

Stiles blushed and tightened his ass muscle before continuing to climb and then putting on his boxers and pants.

Derek’s boxers were drenched in lube and cum so he yanked them off and pulled up his jeans, going commando. He packed his still thick cock in and pulled up the zipper. Then he pulled his shirt over his head.

When they both looked at least kind of decent Stiles grabbed Derek by the shirt and pulled him close to kiss him one more time. “Your hair is messy,” he grinned and leaned back in his seat trying to find a comfortable way to sit.

Derek growled wiped off his hands on some tissues he found in the door. Then he ran his hand through his hair to make it look okay.

“Do I really have to keep it inside?” Stiles whined and squirmed around in his seat. “Derek… my DAD is gonna be at dinner!”

“Yes you have to! That’s what you get for teasing me. I’m gonna make you suffer through dinner.” he replied and started the car.

[tehnakki]

I keep experiencing Schroedinger's dad.  The quantum state of never knowing if my dad is alive or dead until an observation is made.

I went to Egypt for the Xmas holiday. It was a last minute trip that ended up being incredible. But I chose to go there rather than home because I knew I'd be home soon enough because my dad was dying. Is dying. Has been dying since he was diagnosed with cancer in September, and since he first got sick in June.

My mother has a hard time getting to the point when she needs to break bad news to me. She always gives me a play by play of every moment leading up to the moment she realised what was happening before she says the news. So every phone call, I'm stuck judging from the sound of her voice, the quaver of her breaths if this is the 10min summary that will end with "and he died."

I finally told a co-worker my dad had cancer in late September, 3 weeks after my mom called to tell me dad had returned from a short trip to California to see his relatives.  He hadn’t been keeping any food down, his skin was yellow and his eyes were jaundiced. His sister’s daughter had stolen his credit card and used it to buy a flight (he didn’t know this, mom found out when she got a purchase notification), and my brother’s bracelet had also disappeared from his bag (assumed to be the same lighthanded niece). Oh and they were seeing an oncologist on Monday because he has cancer.

I held it together at work until the information in mom’s nightly phone calls about doctors and surgeries and appointments repeated in excruciating but confused details got to be too much.  I’d spent most of those two weeks crying in the bathroom and taking 3 times as long to get any work done, so I finally told my co-worker. He was shocked and a little upset he hadn't noticed how upset I’d been. Within an hour I had permission to head home for as much time as I needed (I selected 1 month… because I had Harry Potter tickets in London and wanted to be back at the end of October for that.)

I spent 30 days at home from September to October.  Dad was mostly lucid but mom was incredible stressed out. Within a week I was in control of their estate planning and by the end of week two I had trusts in place, living wills, powers of attorney, medical bills taken care of.  And dad was confused but happy. We snuck out of the house for trips to Alberstons and Sam’s club to buy more ice cream (the only thing he was eating), and he pulled one of his gags were he kept directing me to drive in circles until I figured out he was fucking with me.  He couldn’t sit through Star Wars anymore without falling asleep, but we got mostly through Force Awakens. But he was still my dad, just a little more closed mouthed, and unable to articulate why he so desperately wanted a surgery that had only 25% success rate. Mom was adamantly against the surgery, but dad wanted it and all his doctors were pushing for it so it was scheduled for November 1st, 4 days after I’d leave for the UK.

I was on a train platform in London when I talked to mom next after flying back to Glasgow.  It was a rambly WhatsApp message. She told me about how annoying the pre-surgery procedures were at the hospital. The liquid dad had to drink, the nurses who kept failing to coordinate between the hospital and his doctor. And finally that the procedure had failed. That the cancer had already spread from his bile duct to his liver and couldn’t be operated on. That his gall bladder had been full of cancer and was removed. He’d be at the hospital for a week, and then a rehab facility for two weeks and then back home.

Over the course of November mom and I talked a lot about the “next steps”. His doctors were pushing for a radiation/chemo therapy to shrink the tumors. Mom and I (and slowly my brother Josh) were against, we saw no point in dragging this out. And dad… Dad’s dementia had gone from mild confusion in June to beyond awful in November.  He ended up getting kicked out of the rehab facility he was in because he kept wandering the halls at night “stealing” from rooms and leaving the stuff he found in different places. He’d find a place to sit on the wrong floor and ask every person going by how to get home. They couldn’t handle him so they sent him to emergency care at a different hospital and didn’t tell my mom til she showed up to the rehab to see him the next morning.

And in early December as I was walking home from grocery shopping mom put me on the phone with dad and he didn’t know who I was. He thought I was one of his sisters, and from California. I sat down on the street in glasgow and started sobbing. Mom took the phone back and when she realised how upset I was she talked to him for a few moments and when he got back on the phone it was him again “I’m so sorry sweetie. I’m so sorry. I could never forget you. I love you. How can I make this up to you. I’d do anything to make this up to you.”

When dad and I hang up the phone on each other we always say: “I love you” “I love you more” “I love you mostest!”

He didn’t say that this time.

Two weeks later I was in Giza, riding a camel, seeing the pyramids and temples that we’d planned to see together since I was a little girl.  And on the first day of the trip one of my fellow tourists had to cut his trip earlier. His father had died. He had to go home.

We were arriving at the Valley of the Kings when I found out Carrie Fisher died.  That was hard to take.

Mom and I had an agreement, if dad died she wouldn't tell me till I called from Amsterdam on my way back. No matter what, he wouldn’t die (for me) while I was on my trip.  I had a short connection so I rushed to the gate before calling, in case I forgot to keep walking while she talked. She started by asking about my trip, talking about the couple of pictures I posted, the camels that I rode. Boarding process had stared at the gate before we got to the update on dad: he was sicker, wasn’t keeping much down, the dementia was much worse. He wasn’t remembering where the bathroom was, and he kept peeing against the wall of his room.  “But he’s ok, we watched Gunsmoke all yesterday.”

I had a weeks reprieve, to catch up on work and only quick calls from mom, about how dad was doing.  On Friday when I was leaving work at 2000 she called to tell me another nauseating story of failed bodily functions only to finish with that she had to call hospice care earlier that day and they were coming to evaluate him in the morning.

Saturday was a rambling WhatsApp message about hospice bringing a bed over and a day nurse being assigned, but nothing about my dad's status.

Sunday I didn't call. I was too stressed about balancing my workload for the next quarter with an impeding sense of doom that my planned trip home February 8th was too late.

Monday morning I told my team captain that I felt awful doing this to the team, but I was going to probably need to fly out on the next week or so and try to work from home (a continent away) earlier than planned (cutting my quarters work weeks from 8 to closer to 5). He was incredibly understanding but I still felt awful I was bailing on the team. I ended up forgetting my phone at my desk for a large part of the day, and I was prepping a satellite for a morning test, so it wasn't until 2130 I even picked up my phone and there was a phonecall from mom 2 hours earlier.

Schroedinger's dad.

I locked up the office and started walking home. I called her.

This time the recount started from Friday. Her calling their GP, getting the hospice called. The confusion with orders being sent to the wrong place, her having to call the GPs wife back because the hospice didn’t have his records. The nurse (who was very sweet) who evaluated him, the young men who showed up an hour later and with no complaint hauled all the junk out of his office first before putting in the bed and equipment.  The lovely young woman who came by every morning to deliver the days supply of morphine.  The nurse who came to help him get out of bed this morning and held his hands as she looked to mom and said “He’s in a coma. He can hear us. But he’s in a coma now.”

I told her I’d be flying back tomorrow and I got off the phone to buy a plane ticket, and figured out how to get to the airport in Edinburgh, because it had a flight that would arrive 4 hours before the soonest Glasgow flight. I told my roommate as I was heading back to the office to print tickets and grab chargers.  She asked why I wasn’t crying, “I have too much to get done to cry right now.”

I got back home and started packing and called mom back.  She said, she told dad he has to hang on for another day since I’d be coming home. And that she’ll hold the phone to his ear so I could talk to him.

The woosh of an oxygen mask or a ventilator came on and I burst out laughing “Daddy! You sound like Darth Vader. Don’t go out like Anakin did. That was not a good way to go.  I love you. I’ll be home tomorrow.” The woosh of his breathing in my ear for few seconds, and then my mom took the phone back.

I didn’t sleep that night. I packed for a bit, and then watched Netflix for four hours, and then finished packing just in time to call an uber to head to the train station. I got to the airport two hours early, and finished watching netflix while drinking a coffee. The first flight was really great, I had a row to myself so I lay down, put some music on, and slept for almost the full 7 hours. Getting up to request a meal a bit late and colour in my ODY-C colouring book. The flight attendant loved the book and sat down to page through it while I ate. I left him a note with the book name and isbn when we disembarked in NYC.

I had forgotten to bring my US sim card with me, so I sat at the gate and texted mom: “I grabbed the wrong wallet last night so don’t have my at&t simcard. I’m in JFK, flight leaves in an hour. Lands at 7:50pm terminal 1 and I have a checked bag”

Mom: “Ok will see you soon Love you”

Schroedinger’s dad.

The second flight was awful. I was next to a toddler throwing a tantrum and a mother who was to done to stop him.  I watched my favourite scenes of all 7 star wars movies while blasting Hamilton as loud as my headphones could make it.

At LAS I used the airport wifi to call mom, she was parked in the short term parking.

We never park.  In the 15+ years we’ve been flying into LAS, we always do a driveby pickup.

I grab my bag and walk out there, my brother meets me at the walkway and hugs my tight. He never comes to pick me up at the airport. It’s always just mom or dad.

Mom’s waiting in the car and she gives me a hug, but she isn’t crying. We stop at In-N-Out. Because we always stop at In-N-Out.

Stepping into the house is like every single time I’ve come home. Other than the pile of office supplies sitting in the living room that normally is in dad’s office. I walk far enough into the house that when I turn my head I can see into the office with my peripheral vision. His office is empty.

My father David Johnson: pilot, engineer, the best dad a nerdy, awkward brown girl could have asked for died early Tuesday morning while I was over the Atlantic.

Schoredinger’s dad.  The box is open. His state has been observed.

[farafootbushcraft]

West Highland Way, reached during the second week of walking

Sunday 23rd April. evening

Butler’s route off the canal and to Milngavie is really lovely, once you have mustered the ‘face’ to see it through on the second golf course (v private). The first one was easy – had a public path running through with signage. Easy. But nothing helpful on the second. Had to just make for little stream and try to follow it. Players were helpful though when stream became inaccessible. Between the golf courses (on the way to Balmore) I foraged some lesser celandine tubers (tiny but abundant) to add to the pot. Followed a dog sauntering ahead of me towards second golf course – turned out to be a large and very confident fox.

  When left the second golf course at Fluchter an older couple got chatting to me about where I was going/come from. Got help from the man about best way to Milngavie. It was the one I’d intended to take. They used to walk a lot they told me. The woman liked independent walkers (and demonstrated by walking off ahead of her husband!!) and he used to cycle all around this area when younger. On holiday here.

Great views over towards Glasgow.

I went on my way and met Alan, a Glaswegian, out walking. Pole in hand – related discussion about dog attacks – and Hitech boots (cheap but for him better coz not narrow like boots made on the continent – here here!). After describing my expedition he said he was proud of me, which made me feel very good. At first I witheld where he might find me online, but decided to give him Farafoot web address coz he was so supportive and friendly to me. He said he would love to do this but scared of getting wet since can’t get things dry. My biggest worry too. Been religious about keeping myself dry – putting on goretex as soon as hints of rain and keeping bedding dry. Luckily my bivi bag doesn’t seem to be prone to condensation inside so that’s a big help. Took Alan a week to do WHW so must ensure put in the miles when I can.

I’ve set up bivi near a ford in the road in what looks like public park woodland. I’m on a little knoll in a nest of laurel ‘Laurel Nest Bivi’. Have strung tarp to the tree so I can quickly peg it out if rain, but won’t bother unless need to. Feeling not too tired (not fit to drop tired), but stopped coz want to have a look at the WHW section route and get myself ready. Anxious. Now nearly 6pm. Will have a look at maps then sort out food.

Oh – there is a big building quite close making a lot of noise. Cant work out if industrial or amenity. Also Glasgow airport flight path – don’t mind that a bit.

Monday 24th am: Reaching the Beginning of West Highland Way

Now 5.15 am. Basha is quite funny. Waterproof so far, it’s just that I can have plans to string it out in a particular way but it just does what it wants and I have to make it up as I go along. I ended up with quite a bizarre thing last night (started to rain as soon as I began cooking so had to stop and sort it out).

Comfortable in Bivy

Not only on flight path but must be very close to airport coz into late hours planes very low coming over. The nature of the building making the noise became clearer when I heard tennis being played. Someone’s labrador came to visit and wouldn’t leave, but at last picked up his ball and went when his owner called from afar.

lunchtime

Was out walking with the first plane at 6.30. Started on West Highland Way at 7.30. Two lads there with camo packs. Well built. Bit macho? Some grunted hellos then they marched past. I felt really strongly that wanted to push ahead but talked to myself and kept it slow and steady. Meanly thinking they’ll blow up anyhow. So competitive!

West Highland Way Start at Milngavie

Very strong winds and gusts nearly blowing me over. Taking my breath. Had first hail shower and now another one during lunch break. Stopped at 11ish to harvest celandine tubers (lots and lots of them here). Getting very low on all but pemmican, so I’m going to need to get more than leaves. Will try for thistle and burdock if can find any. Sticks (walking poles) are getting MUCH shorter. Sad really, and quite dangerous because my ‘trident’ is now at face height! Maybe put ferrules on when back at home to stop more wearing down. Done 12.5miles on WHW and 1.5miles to Milngavie this am. Thinking of trying for Loch Lomond this pm. About 6miles over the tops. Did some washing in the stream – now drying in the wind. I find that even when I stop and forage etc. Still get to my expected spot/expected time the same. Must just freshen me up.

Approach to Conic Hill at southern end of Loch Lomond

evening

Done 17miles. Was quite fresh when I stopped at about 4pm, but after faffing about with basha I’m quite knackered now. This spot under Conic Hill was lovely and shaded from the horrendous wind when I chose it, but must have changed direction coz now the basha is flapping like a sail. Talking of sails, my rain over for pack was also catching the strong headwind all day and ripping off when it stopped dragging me backwards! I’ve rigged clips on the top and bottom. Seem to work. Hoping the wind is going to drop tonight or I’m going to be worrying about the basha. If I take it down though, sure to rain. The headwind must be slowing me down as well – although not too worried about my effort today.

Will have to eat the fat from the pemmican tonight – all of it in the stew – so I don’t fall over tomorrow, especially if we are getting more of the wintry blast. I’ve noticed that if I get inspired I walk better (stronger) even if the going is harder.

Had a good dinner. Thought I heard children playing but it was gulls squabbling.

FORAGED:

GREENS: beech leaves, nettles, fiddlehead so, sorrel, larch needles, vetch

ROOTS/TUBERS: lesser celandine

Burned my tongue tonight. Too eager. Lovely lemony flavour from the larch.

Wind dropped during dinner but seems to be getting up again.

Tuesday 25th. am.

Cold, windy night. I LOVE MY CACOON (sleeping bag liner). Put my phone charger and phone in bed with me to stop them freezing. Hare visited last night but didn’t seem to notice me. Thought I heard something/ someone breathing or snoring all night. Just remembered as cleaning teeth that on the canals and before, but especially there, everyone smelled absolutely horrid. At first I thought it was just a few female runners (perfumes) but it was all the men as well. Clothes wash/ deodorisers? Really nauseating and lingered on and on.

evening

Just set up bivi on slopes above Loch Lomond, under a yew tree – pillow is a rabbit den, hope they won’t mind too much. Rabbit Den Bivi.

View of Loch Lomond from Conic Hill on West Highland Way

Can feel myself going down a bit. Takes me a long time to set bivi. Pooped but think I only did about 13miles today. I expected relatively flat since follows loch closely, but it is punishing ups and downs all the way. I feel hungry too. Back in Milngavie I tellingly paused a bit too long looking at the food bank! I’ve foraged some decent thistle roots today but it took time, and drew attention.

This bivi is far from ideal – not very sheltered – but I didn’t know what I’d get if I carried on.

Exposed Bivi

Can hear trains and cars on the other side of the loch it is so close. I suppose today did start with a hard climb in the headwind. On Conic Hill the wind was so bad I could hardly move. It was sunny all day with blasts of arctic wind. There was ice on the hill. The wind has been pushing against me all the way – tiring legs and head. On this terrain have to concentrate hard all day. Wind might drop overnight – seems to. Should be headed towards Crainlarich tomorrow.

Just had my stew – with sun setting over Loch Lomond and weather coming in from the north. Huddled over my stove. Now getting warmth from the embers as I write. Found myself a bone as a digging stick, though I have enough foraged stock for tomorrow so I won’t have to stop. FREEZING NOW. GET IN SACK.

Cold but in Bivi Sack for warmth

Wednesday 26th am.

5.13am. Just woken. Wind dropped last night. Felt warmer. Lights flickered on the basha from the road on the other side of the loch. At first thought it was someone out there deliberately being silent. Worried. Then realised light faster than sound which is why didn’t correlate with cars exactly. Settled. At first couldn’t sleep, then shifted and slept very soundly. Woke with father-in-law’s comment “life is anabasis old chum”.

Yesterday more perfumed/smelly people on the trail. Most, luckily, were alone and wanted it that way, or in pairs/groups and wanted it that way – good thing. I’M STILL UNSOCIABLE.

View of Loch Lomond

My clothes and hair smell of woodsmoke now.

MORNING ROUTINE:

Take trousers and socks from stash bag (my pillow) and put them in sleeping bag to warm. Take down jacket and hat from pillow and put on. Clean teeth and take meds. Put on trousers and socks. Get out of bed and put on boots. Have a pee and attend to ablutions. If weather dry take down basha. Swap down jacket for primaloft jacket and goretex jacket. Stuff clothes in bottom of pack, then med/bits bag, then sleeping bag and cacoon, then bivi bag, then pemmican and sauerkraut bags, then pillow sack containing mat, pegs, paracord and basha. Collect firewood and put in stove bag. Put cooking pots and stove in lid of pack. Put whisky in side pocket. Put day’s food ration and foraging bag in pack belt pockets. Put water, phone, maps, pen, knife, head torch, compass, whistle, glasses in bumbag. Raincover on pack. READY TO GO.

Just got out of bed and 6am. ‘Alpenglow’ on hills over other side of water – too brief for me to take picture. As I walk each day I keep recalling what the lovely woman in Peebles said to me when she found out my route : “well you’re nearly there then!” It was such a wonderful boost, and still keeps me going. As I write I can hear a bird saying “beans, beans, beans”. They say things all the time, sometimes a bit more interesting than that.

evening

It’s 5pm. It’s become unnaturally warm now, with no wind and strong sun, which is making me worry about an electrical storm a bit since there are dark clouds in the sky. I’ve set up the bivi in the open for a change under some crags, Craggy Bivi, but there are still trees taller surrounding the clearing. A slight breeze is building and I hope it’s going to just push the weather away. If it starts to thunder I’ll just abandon camp and head down the hill for a bit.

The view is completely tremendous. I’m above Crainlarich, so about half way up the West Highland Way. This morning was horrendous : leg wasting ups and downs on rock promontories alongside the loch for miles and miles. It was a great and unexpected relief after lunch to get onto some tracks, even if they also had steep ascents. One thing here on the WHW is that it isn’t muddy like Northumberland. It is mainly rock – which makes its own issues like this morning. Tend to be passing same people over and over on the route now, but no problems with it.

Rocky ‘path’ on West Highland Way

Only foraging today was wild garlic (ransom) which happened to be abundant. Other foraging that I have done on Loch Lomond (that doesn’t count as natural) is ONE MIDGET GEM on the track and one tissue (unused). I count it as tidying up as much as helping myself. Feeling quite hungry again – this route is taking a toll. Enjoying it when I can get time/distance out of my mind. If I’m enjoying myself the distance passes anyway. Quite careful not to get too breathless on ascents – taking them VERY slowly, otherwise I might not properly recover. I bet this is good 6633 training (an Arctic ultra ‘race’ where you pull your sled with your gear for hundreds of miles and where it’s important not to sweat since it will freeze you).

Thistle Roots, Sorrel and Bittercress foraged for dinner

Mileage today – 15miles. Sticks getting even shorter.

Thursday 27th. am.

Think my saliva has stopped working. Constant dry mouth. Look forward to cleaning teeth. Rain came down after 2 or 3ish am. Till then too hot and not sleeping much. Proper downpour tested basha – v.good apart from tendency to stretch. Much better than poncho – with that I would have been at least a bit wet. It has also done very well in high winds – no damage. Feel a bit tired this morning. Dreamed about food: was lulled into a house, went in by mistake and ate. There was some kind of family trip as well where I had coffee and cake. The bit in the house turned into a drama/musical about a person who ate all the pasta so there was none left for the town.

View towards the further shores of Loch Lomond and my path onwards

Don’t want to get up this morning. Should be heading over Rannoch Moor – quite keen to do that. PROGRESS. Looks like it’s mostly on military roads (old ones) from now on – after Tyndrum. That ought to mean using the passes sensibly rather than straight ups and downs over hilltops.

Rannoch Moor

Katy is off school ill at the moment (Andy messaged me). Andy was worried since no message from me. SHOULD HAVE MADE MORE CONTACT. Wanted to make more progress first. Much milder weather now – yesterday VERY WARM but this am still slight cold breeze.

Had small dose of sauerkraut, a few nuts and prunes and some water for breakfast.

mid-morning.

Just had my first cry. Saw a train and turned to look at Ben More and surge of emotion. I’ve pepped myself up a bit regarding food, thinking actually that I do have enough. Thinking about when climbing an 8,000 meter mountain you can’t even absorb the food, let alone have enough to eat. You don’t get larch needles and sorrel and ‘sweeties’ like that, and water isn’t available at all except with huge effort. So really, I’m in good shape for another week. Walking around here (Tyndrum area) there are signs everywhere for drinks, food, shops, places to stay, which is very annoying for me right now.

Emotions are high

lunchtime

I put away my water filter since not had to use it now for days. Makes it simpler to fit water pouch into bumbag. It was a long walk here to Bridge of Orchy this morning. Probably 12miles, but quite enjoyable apart from final 2miles. I’m in the station underpass to shelter since rain started, but concrete is VERY cold.

evening

Just finished dinner. I love my broth, especially with wild garlic. The only trouble is it takes so long to eat – so much chewing of the dried meat. On way to tonight’s bivi saw sign on fence (defaced) saying turn back to campsite since no wild camping on the route. Poo! Set up on side of hill by good stream under large scots pine.

Cuckoo Bivi: near Bridge of Orchy on West Highland Way

Friday 28th. am.

Slept really well. Rained on and off all night. Tarp still good. Mists hanging in the valleys this morning. Heard first cuckoo. Cuckoo Bivi. Today is a puzzle – whether to have a short one or push over the hills in the afternoon. Will depend on how I feel and what time I get to Glencoe Ski Resort. If the worst comes of it I can sleep overnight on the open hill. Done it many times before. Don’t really need to be in Fort William till Sunday since no ferry across Loch Linnhe till Monday.

Used my clothes inside my rucksack liner as a mattress again last night, along with boots and med/bits bag at feet – works well and is becoming the norm. Protection from cold of the ground mainly.

lunchtime

Long trek this am over Rannoch Moor and Glencoe. All the woods/forests are fenced off. Maybe a good reason (deer fences) but doesn’t look/seem right. In all this wildness little bunches of trees/animals corralled, or kept out.

Rannock Moor

Looking towards Glencoe

Rannock Moor

Rannock Moor

Devil’s Staircase, Glencoe

Glencoe on West Highland Way

Doing quite well, but aware of big climbs to come. Think I have been quite badly dehydrated using the filter because now peeing more than 2 times/day and mouth not dry all the time/ lips no longer chapped. Obvious really!

Heard reason Katy been off school – pain in stomach is a urachal cyst (Apparently to do with umbilical chord severance not healing properly). Seems very symbolic – I go away and something between us showing the effects. I think/learn that she is alright – just bored and on penicillin. Yuk!

evening

Had a good day in terms of mileage. One of the steep ascents I was dreading (because of what a few people had said) turned out not to be too bad. My legs seem to prefer steady steep up rather than lots of ups and downs. Starting to be concerned now about walk into Inverie – it’s time for that now I suppose.

Today was one stunning view opening up after another and I’ve been on the camera all day. Couldn’t help it. But probably good because it made me keep pausing. Good to go slow. I’m positioned now I think for day to Glen Nevis, but not sure. Just managed to get bivi site set up before customary afternoon rain. The best time for weather is the morning when usually dry and clear apart from hill mist which burns off. Then the afternoons can get a bit warm, then the evening rain tends to come (and often overnight rain). Rain seems to come a bit earlier here in Ben Nevis’ ambit. The weather has been really glorious and ideal often.

Torridons going towards Kinlochleven

Steep climb to 550m today, as well as much else besides. Bivi just outside Kinlochleven.

Saturday 29th am.

Another comfortable night. Before dawn the sound of toad/frog on the move. Also that strange, low frequency Spring vibrating sounding bird. Grouse also. I’ve bivied in the open heathland, where I collected lots of dry grass to pad the bed and protect it from the watery moss underneath – Grass Bed Bivi. There are woods all around but they’re thinly dispersed, young silver birch and on unsuitably steep slopes. Deciduous trees are now mostly in leaf. It’s 5.30am and looks like rain coming. Wind whipped at tarp last night – looked like a kite wanting to take off, but lovely thing held and no damage. Bee/wasp again this morning – as there was last night too.

afternoon

I’m sitting by the A88 to Inverness in a bus shelter in Fort William, opposite the ferry slipway, having raced to get here to catch the Saturday ferry. Looked so dead when I got here that I phoned the ferry operator to see if any were on. I got here about 1.50pm and the ferry is at 4.15. Don’t mind at all.

Ferry at Fort William to cross Loch Linnhe

Thought about it and really didn’t want to sit out a whole day in Glen Nevis just because no ferry Sunday. I cut out the last few miles of WHW to take the road so that I could forage something for tonight and get to Fort William on time. Feel tired now and not very hungry. Overdone it. The morning was a bit of a climb out of Kinlochleven, then stunning views over the passes to the Ben. Hard on the feet – gravelly overlain with large boulders – very slippery and tripping up. Saw first seal in the loch because someone sitting photographing it.

Saw my first seal.

Coastguard search and rescue and fire engine turned up here as I write. Leaving engines running – VERY NOISY. several large motorbikes parked and also engines running – worse. Can’t concentrate in all this noise. Moving to sit on the slipway.

As I walk I keep checking now not only for leaves but maybe a dropped sweet!

Let my feet get too sweaty rushing to get here. Hope no blisters. I think I need to eat something – feeling woozy. One thing driving my wish to get to Inverie sooner rather than later is rations – VERY LOW now. Will need to forage a lot.

Inverie with very little food, but all is OK.

Expedition from the Backdoor Diary Entries 6: West Highland Way, 23rd to 29th April 2017 Sunday 23rd April. evening Butler's route off the canal and to Milngavie is really lovely, once you have mustered the 'face' to see it through on the second golf course (v private).

[cml2808]

20 weeks and 1 day since arriving in NZ

Well NZ has been shit. For so many reasons - It’s been crappy and I’m now just planning my escape when I can.

So firstly, once again I am confined to my bed. Last wek I was in a car accident. It was pretty major. Someone pulled out in front of me, I had briefly looked away (for maybe half a second) and when I looked up I had a car about a meter in from of me. I was doing 60kn (37mph) when I hit her. She’s pulled out of a side road and was crossing my path to go in the opposite direction to me. I don’t remember the impact, or spinning around I only remember knowing it was about to hit and then being winded and struggling to breathe. I was making this horrible noise.. thinking back makes me feel sick and terrified all over again. I was too scared to look down at the time - I didn’t know if I would have blood or legs or what. Anyway, turns out I was pretty lucky. I had a fair bit of bruising especially to my chest/breasts and a broken leg (top of tibia - where shin meets knee) but I’m alive and surprisingly OK. I was lucky. Lucky I had airbags and a seatbelt on.  Lucky I didn’t need an operation. Lucky I have such kind people to take care of me.

So there we are, 6 weeks of no weight bearing with a leg brace on, followed by physio. Not exactly what I wanted from NZ - Months of bed rest.

So in addition to that - there’s everything with G. Fuck, it been hard work. Since my last post so much has happened. There has of course been good stuff - there’s been romantic times and 3 hour plus phone calls and video calls and beautiful moments. We booked a flight for him to come here, one-way. We had plans, the food we were going to eat, the sex we were going to have, the films we were going to watch, swimming lessons, sky dive... so much! But there’s so much other shit I’m just not sure it’s worth it....

So rewinding back to December. G went to live on Langkawi Island for 1 month. His plan (as he kept reassuring me) was to work his normal job of 6 nights a week playing for about an hour and half and then he’d do additional gigs afterwards to top up wages or even better work in the day. He wouldn’t drink much as he would go home and sleep. He also wanted to learn how to swim. At first it seemed good, he booked swimming lessons, he good a job doing breakfast - Great. Except, the extra job lasted a day. He had a few tries at swimming then gave up and he spent the month getting more drunk than I’ve ever known. We talked. I told him I thought he had a drinking problem and unless it stopped I didn’t want to be with him any more. So after a few days not talking, after him talking to his friends too he decided to quit, as soon as he left the island.

Things after that got good. He was bored a little but OK. We had good chats, we booked the plane tickets and planned for our future. We would spend some time here - I even lined up some work for him both in construction and singing. Then after a while we would travel and go to India.

I think it all started when I woke one night after a horrible and very vivid dream. I dreamt he was with someone else. So in the early hours of the morning I went through his X’s facebook profile.. the girl he was still with when we got together. I was surprised to find I wasn’t blocked as I had been before. Well, I found out why she probably unblocked me, I’m pretty sure they’ve been together again since. About 3 days after that massive argument in October she’s taken photos of herself in his house. He acted like I was the crazy one as per usual. Saying they must be old etc. Funnily enough she blocked me later that day and yet G insists he didn’t speak to her  - Yeah right. But, I had invested so much I decided to forgive him. I didn’t tell him this. I told him I believed him but I don’t. I think he was with her again, I’m 99% sure of it. But we had broken up at the time so I forgave him and pushed all thoughts away.

I kept promising myself things would get better. But they don’t. It never does. I had this accident - on the day he was brilliant, but only the morning after on the phone kept telling me I needed to be more careful. I tried to patiently explain that the accident wasn’t my fault and that I couldn’t have been more careful - He said I should’ve seen her or driven slower. He blamed me. Less than 24 hours after the crash - which every single other person- including the other driver agreed was not my fault. The one person who’s meant to support and protect me above anyone else blamed me. Long story short, I hung up on him and ended up apologising to him and forcing an apology out from him.

Then yesterday I see something on FB about him going back to Langkawi, I asked him about it and he assured was only for 3 gigs and then presumed I was unhappy about it because of the girl there (well it wasn’t because of that... but now...). I said it wasn’t but I was feeling so so down yesterday that I said I didn’t want to talk about it and forget it. We didn’t talk all day. I made contact. I’m so weak. I apologised. He didn’t forgive me. He stayed angry. He told me he loved me before he slept and I said the same back. This morning I woke to see on FB him enquiring about a monthly rental on a place in Langkawi. So no idea what’s going on. I’ve asked him to call when he wakes.

It’s got to stop. He plays with my emotions. One minute he’s nasty and next loving. It’s killing me. I can’t do it any more.

So there you go. It’s been shit. I’ve wasted over $400 on a ticket for my boyfriend to visit me but I don’t think he wants to.. and I don’t think it’s be a good idea.

Best thing I can do is do what I do best - Run away. Save money until the end of my visa and then India.. or maybe Indonesia or Philippines... or all 3.

The other worry I have is I promised to visit home - but I don’t want to. I want to see my family & friends but it’s just so expensive. Mum and dad understand but my friends don’t. So we’ll see.

OK I’m done for today. I feel better for having written it down. I’m scared to talk to G later but I think I need to.

[rueur]

Morning Pages #21 (27.01.2017)

Friday 27th Jan - 8:11 a.m.

I woke up once at 6 and once again at 7, and then once more at 7:45 a.m. I think, and I’ve been up since then. I slept with the blind all the way up, so the 6 a.m. morning sun always manages to wake me up. It’s odd though, because 6 a.m., I’ve noticed, looks exactly like 9 a.m., so I wake up always afraid that I’ve slept in because it’s so bright out. That’s one of the most glorious things about summer for me: the fact that the world acts as a natural alarm clock, the sun rising early enough to make sure you’re up and and up early enough too. It’s just courteous! The winter sun, however, takes its sweet time and here in Melbourne, often dozes on well past 8 a.m.. I still remember what it’s like getting up at 6 a.m. to make 9 a.m. lectures during the winter months. The world is dark and the effort is near-debilitating. Most of those days I had no breakfast, because there was no time, so I spent money at uni buying cheap junk food. The sugar kick would help me stay focused, but it left me drained by the end of the day anyway when there’s nothing else in your system. And then I’d tram and train it home, and the walk/bike/bus it from South Morang station back to my house. Keeping my bike at the station has honestly been such a godsend, because it more than halves the time it usually takes for me to get home. On a good day, it’s only a twenty minute walk and that’s only if I go through Mill Park Reserve, which is very unsafe before sunrise and after sunset. That’s another reason why I’d like to live somewhere else now, preferably an inner city suburb.

Evan was telling me last Friday about how he would often go on midnight walks in the parks around his area, just because of the lovely quiet, and the silhouettes of trees, the starry sky overhead: all there for his independent enjoyment. I understood. The world is more open to you in the dead hours, because you are the only one it has to perform for, and so it is less shy. Birds cry out into the sleepy early morning, little swallows flit across open grass, skimming across morning dew until their bellies shine with the moisture. There were a couple of days during high school where I had to be at school around 8 a.m., for choir practice. I always managed to be late, my family living an age away from my high school and having to drive down the freeway at peak hour when literally every other person in that choir simply had to walk two blocks or some ridiculously close distance like that. My choir teacher, Merryn or something I forget her name now, would always tell me off in the most sickly polite way possible when I turned up ten or so minutes late. So I fell into the habit of not going to choir practice at all if I were running even a little bit late, which was most days. Instead, I waited till my parent drove off and headed straight for my locker, plopped my bag inside and gathered my books for Period 1. I then ran to the oval and began to walk around, doing leisurely laps. Every morning, these little blue swallows would dance across the stout grasses like goliath butterflies on acid, flitting from one side of the grounds to the other within seconds, creating what I thought to be the most intricate circular flight patterns. It was always fascinating to me, even now retrospectively as I collect my memories from five or so years ago now.

It’s 8:27 a.m., and the cats are sitting above me as we speak, staring out the large bedroom window and onto the street below. I should feed them soon, I know. I have my show tonight, so I’ll be home rather late. So I don’t want to feed them too early. I should let Emily know I probably won’t be able to feed them tomorrow night. No, I definitely won’t be able to feed them tomorrow night, because my show ends at 8 or something, and it’ll take me a half hour or so to get back to Northcote from South Morang, and that’s only if I leave RIGHT after the curtain goes down. Goodness, I was actually dreading waking up today because I know that today and tomorrow are going to be so hectic. I went to bed last night cherishing the calm, amidst the filter for the fish tank. I kept it running last night because of the algae build-up I noticed on one side of the glass yesterday afternoon. I cleared it away onsight, but it had grown quite substantial before I’d noticed it.

Rhiannon just sent me a message out of the blue, letting me know that she’d had a dream about me. She said she had been looking for something in the dream, then she saw my face and ‘there was this smirk’. Rather vague, but she also said she doesn’t remember it too well. What do I say to that? I’ve missed her, actually, I really have. I’ve been thinking about catching up with her some time. The last time I saw her, it was last year and we were both catching a replacement train into the city from Macleod. I was running late for a Sunday shift. I was supposed to start at 11, and got there at 12. I was naturally very apologetic on the phone with my bosses, and with Hassan, and once I finally did get there (with an hour’s pay docked), I was able to make the most with the rest of the day. However, after that day, management realised that they didn’t necessarily have to open at 11 on Sundays because there wasn’t that much business during that hour anyway. So that day didn’t just result in me losing an hour’s pay for that day, but for every other Sunday I worked for the rest of my time there. That damned line maintenance has lost me and my other weekend workers upwards of $200 each.

Should I say something to Rhiannon before I continue my writing? I’m over halfway through my second page and it’s 8:37 a.m.. To be honest, I didn’t want to stop and start much during these pages in particular because I know how little time I have here before I need to head back to South Morang and parade about onstage in this decrepit excuse for a show. I should feed the cats around 8:45, I think. This gives me really only about five or so minutes to write out my last page, but I think it’ll be fine regardless. I just don’t want to stop and start until I feel like I SHOULD be feeding the cats.

I will say that since I’ve been living here, I’ve been experiencing this very strange state of mind that lies somewhere between holidaying and working. Being in Northcote has given me the rare opportunity of immersing myself in Melbourne, letting myself be at the centre (slightly left of centre maybe) of what’s happening, and thus experiencing the city in a way I’ve never experienced it before. I’ve indulged in our nightlife, I’ve gone to musical shows, I’ve walked up and down High St, peering through all the store windows. I can understand now why Isaac loved his place on Johnston St. There’s so much to do there! LAUNDRY is there, and the Tomboy Cafe which is where I met him right before he called his uber and hopped on a plane and disappeared out of my life for the next three months. I found the Tomboy Cafe in one of Emily’s recipe books; apparently that place is a pretty big deal, vegetarian recipe book-wise.

Okay, yes, so things are happening here and my life feels fuller for it. BUT, on the other hand, I also feel like I’ve been putting my own life on hold to be here, which can be a very relatable effect that holidays have upon holidayers. However, this isn’t just an effect of holidaying, but more a deeper effect of house-sitting. Not only do I feel like I’ve placed my life on hold, but lately I have also felt like I’ve been keeping somebody else’s life warm for them. I’ve been staying at Emily’s home, feeding her pets and keeping them company, making sure the place is neat and orderly, while my own room remains unlived and unloved. Curtains drawn, clothes strewn across the floor, my own room hasn’t been given an ounce of care since I stripped my closet bare and carried it all here. It’s 8:47, so I’m going to feed the cats now, and finish the last half or so of this third page when I get back. I feel like this is getting too easy for me now, I feel like I should make the font smaller. Or change it from Arial to Times New Roman, because it’s Arial right now (size 12). I usually write my word documents in Times New Roman (size 11) which is so much smaller. Okay, ANYWAY, feeding the cats. I’ll be back in a flash.

Actually, no. I want to power through. I am so close to the bottom of the page now, it seems a shame. If I can reach the bottom of the page before 9, I’ll consider this a fantastic victory and maybe a sign that I should change the font settings in this word document. I’ve been typing all my morning pages in this single word document. Every morning, I clear the pages from the day before and start afresh. Okay, it’s 8:50 now, and I think that it’s clear that I will be reaching the bottom of this page before 9, so I’ll definitely be typing in a smaller font very soon. Probably not tomorrow, because I still have shows tomorrow, and also tomorrow morning will be far too busy considering I’ll be moving all of my stuff out. I am very keen to see the end of this weekend, let me tell you. I can’t bear this theatre schedule anymore and, despite some recent unpleasantness with my mother (which is more or less a guarantee at any given period of time), I have been feeling increasingly homesick. Not for Mill Park, just for my room. Just for my own space. I’m sad to be leaving Northcote, but not sad to be leaving Emily’s place, if that makes sense. I would move here on my own in a heartbeat! If only I had the money, a job. I need a job. I said this yesterday morning too, I know, but it’s just because I desperately need SOMETHING. Even if it’s just weekend work and I end up having little to no social life for the rest of this year, I just need a little money to keep me EATING. Maybe I will actually send my resume to some clinics, find work in radiology maybe. The psychic said somebody would be working in radiology. Maybe that’ll be me.