#like a quick trip to the coast for a few days in a run down motel or spending the night in my car on the beach with a thing of malibu rum

[savage-rhi]

*inhales deeply*

LET'S GET DANGEROUS....

I know I don't owe anyone anything, but I want to be transparent about why I've not been as active lately.

My recent job loss and the discrimination that contributed to said loss had me severely depressed. After coming down a little from survivor/PTSD mode, I needed to take space from everyone and everything. I am starting to feel better, thankfully.

I have been performing odd jobs in my neighborhood so that I am good on cash for bills and housing this month and part of next month. Beyond that, I don't know what to expect.

I am still working on my Ko-Fi shop. This is one of those things I jumped right into thanks to survivor mode, and I didn't account for everything as thoroughly so I'm taking my time with it.

I did speak to a few legal advocates and a couple of lawyers during these past few weeks. Here's the good, bad, and ugly:

Good: Yes, there was illegal discrimination at play. My place of employment didn't handle things the way they should've regarding my excused absences related to disability, and they contributed to emotional duress and screwed over my education prospects.

Bad: I didn't have a paper trail for everything, but I had enough to prove that I did what I was supposed to do on my end when it came to adhering to my place of employments processes. There is sadly nothing that can be done about the third party health insurance company that played a role in screwing me over.

Ugly: Even with the pro-bono stuff that was offered, I'm looking between 20,000-35,000k out of pocket if I wanted to take this to the highest.

Folks...I do not have 20-35k lying around nor the emotional bandwidth to go through a trial/suit. Yes, GoFundMe is an option if I was dead serious on dragging these fuckers dicks through the dirt, but guys, honest to god, I'd rather that 20k-35k go to the following:

Keeping a roof over my head and food on the table until I have stable employment

Ensuring I can afford medical care for my disability, and afford new tests that I'm going to need for long-covid issues

Help me stay in my graduate courses/obtain my therapy licensure

Use it to help out other disabled folks in similar situations

I have closure that I was indeed wronged, that I did everything on my end to the best of my ability, and these dehumanizing assholes aren't going to rob anymore of my energy or time than they already have.

I have appointments to see if covid has fucked up or contributed to anything more serious that hasn't been addressed. I have a secondary PCP now cause of health concerns that have gotten worse. My fibromyalgia flares have been more chaotic since catching covid in January and I'm still figuring out what my new baseline is with that.

Spring Term of my graduate studies started last week, and I'm getting as much as I can done so I have more free time.

I am trying to find motivation to work my fanfics, drabbles, interacting, etc. It's been hard with everything.

My former employer is trying to get out of unemployment benefits and I've been battling that on top of the other stuff.

I need time to rest (like hibernate) and I haven't had the opportunity to do that.

Thank you again to everyone who has checked in on me, asked me how I've been, sent something positive, or donated. I'm sorry I haven't had the hit points to get to everyone individually, but I am trying and I am grateful for the compassion and appreciation.

If you still want to donate before my Ko-Fi shop is up, you can donate at these places:

PayPal: JayRex1463@yahoo.com

Kofi: KitchenRaptorJ

CashApp: $JayRex1463

If you don't have the means, that's a okay. Take care of yourself first.

If you want to send me comfort things (Ardyn Izunia, Higgs Monaghan, Karl Heisenberg, dinosaurs, dragons, etc.) like art, fanfic, etc. my way, that would be wonderful and I am open to that. I'm still open to a friendly hello or check in, just know I won't respond right away.

Now that all is said and done...

[twipsai]

its finally done! happy wsatw everyone <333

word count: 1,817

At 10:39 PM on Saturday, every single person anywhere on either coasts of the continent, and people looking to cross either border of the United Federation, felt a harsh gust of wind.

Commotion ensued, but Sonic, of course, didn’t stick around to see it. When he arrived back at Emerald Coast, he cut back into the city and zoomed past cars cruising along Speed Highway. He ran in front of a few of them, daring them to hit him before swooping away at the last second. Before the fifth exit whizzed by, Sonic bounced over the guardrail and took off through the bare-bones forested area, hopping up and jumping from rooftop to rooftop before he hit the ground running. He passed through lots more cramped neighborhoods on the outskirts of Central City until he made it to the Night Babylon district, where he ran up the side of some random building, speeding up to the top—

And tripped.

And fell.

He just laid there for a moment, before flipping himself over as rapid, shallow breaths racked his body.

Running didn't get tiring. Not normal running, anyway— when he had food in his stomach, water in his blood, and eight hours of sleep.

In the moment, though, with his limbs sore and shaking, he thought this must be like how it felt if the average person ran just a hundred miles. Or maybe even only ninety.

The world kept spinning. It always did, and it wouldn't wait for him to get over whatever funk he was in. He hit his fist dully on the concrete ground. 

He should go back to Mystic Ruins. To make sure Tails was okay, of course. Not to sleep or eat or anything, really. Then he would go back to running— patrolling. He was patrolling to make sure no one was causing trouble while everyone else rested. Of course. He pushed himself up.

Sonic didn't cry that day. Not once. Because if the only person who saw him cry was dead now, then no one had any proof.

And now, running back to his little brother's workshop, he could chalk the tears in his eyes up to the wind beating at his face.

The trip was just a bit slower than it probably would have been normally. It was like his body was protesting against moving his legs, one after the other. He almost collapsed on the porch once he reached it when a wave of exhaustion hit him upon seeing the home, but pushed through the door and shoved himself up the stairs. A chill shuttered through his body, forcing him to realize just how cold he was now that he was inside, and he made a quick pitstop in his room to yank his comforter off the bed and bundle himself in it.

Tails’ room was just down the hall, but he already knew the kit wasn’t in there. For one, the door was open, and Tails hates it when his door’s open. And for two, his self-imposed bed time when he thought Sonic wasn’t around was around three in the morning (but, more recently, it had started stretching to four). So, he begrudgingly hauled himself back down the stairs and through the Tornado’s hangar, giving her a pat on the wing for good luck, and arriving at Tails’ workshop door. A strange sweet smell emanated from the room. 

He gently pushed open the door, the sweet and somewhat nostalgic smell becoming stronger. The moment he stepped through the door, Tails’ ear flicked, and he spun his chair around, yipping in surprise. “Sonic! You’re back!” His face then morphed into a bright smile as he waved him over and spun back to continue his work. 

The plan was to just check in for a bit, maybe send his brother to bed, but now… Well, maybe he’d rest for a bit. Just a bit. He leaned over Tails’ shoulder. “For a bit, yeah. What’s that smell?”

“Oh, uh, blowtorch s’mores.”

“Huh?”

Tails held up a stick with a jumbo marshmallow at the end and a blowtorch. It was only then that Sonic noticed the graham crackers and chocolate bars where mechanic tools should’ve been on the workbench. “Blowtorch s’mores,” he repeated.

“Uh, yeah, I heard you, heh. What’s the occasion?” Sonic hopped up and sat on the workbench, blanket draping over the corner and barely touching the ground.

“Science.”

“Okayyyyy… Can I have one?”

“Sure! Here—” he picked up a second blowtorch that was haphazardly thrown under the table— “just click that button and it'll turn on, and release it to turn it off.”

Sonic yoinked a marshmallow from the package and stuck it on the end of one of the roasting sticks Tails had rested on the side of his workbench. “Ssso, whatcha—” He got cut off by his own throat spurring into a coughing fit. Turns out 24 hours without a drop of water in his system did some real shitty things. Tails immediately shoved a water bottle into his free hand that was about to pick up the blowtorch; he downed the bottle in all of 3 seconds and mumbled a quick ‘thanks’, wiping his mouth. “Whatcha been working on?” he finished.

“Well, before I got distracted by this,” Tails set his perfectly toasted marshmallow aside and turned to the graham crackers splayed out, lightly melting the chocolate laid out on top. “I was fixing up the Cyclone! She got really damaged yesterday…”

“Oof. How bad?”

“Not too bad, I think I did a pretty good job back there,” Tails said with a smug grin. Sonic mentally cheered him on. “But I have to fix up and replace a lot of her casing that got too dented to be safe. And some quick repairs to her engine, ‘cuz Eggman kinda busted it up with his bullets…”

“Wait, what? When did Eggman shoot at you?” He put the blowtorch to the marshmallow, letting the flame consume it until it lit up the entire room, burning so bright the fire’s image was seared into his eyelids.

He knew he didn’t have enough power to save him and fly the both of them back to the ARK. Had he succeeded in grabbing hold of Shadow, they both would’ve died that day. He reached out anyway.

“Maria, this is what you wanted, right? This is my promise I made to you…”

As his hand was waved away, his fingers accidentally curled around the golden bracelet. It snapped off.

The last glimmer of white faded from his fur, and he fell.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and clutched the bracelet close to his chest.

Sonic blew out the flame once it had charred the outside of the marshmallow.

“Yeah, after he tried to blow you up.”

“And did you show him what for…?”

“Hehe, maybeee…”

“Hell yeah!” He set down the blowtorch and ruffled the kit’s bangs as he constructed his s’more. “That’s how I know I raised you right!”

“Pffft— Sonic, stoppp!”

“Okay, okay,” he let up and took out his own crackers and chocolate, smushing the ingredients together and taking a big bite. Gaia, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was… “But,” he said through a mouthful of sugar gunk, “I’m still proud of you, little bro.”

“R– Right! Thank you!”

Sonic practically scarfed down his s’more and went in for another one. “But the Cyclone’s gonna be okay, right?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah! She’ll be okay, but I might take it easy on her for a little while… Those chaos drives got me thinking maybe I put a little too much focus on offense? I mean, it’s mostly for fighting, but if I took out the extra propulsions for rockets and slimmed down the auto-aimer, I could make some more room to add a holo-shield, plus I’d have even more room if I used just one chaos drive to power my ammo rather than what I have in there now!”

Tails rambled on, his explanations becoming more and more weird and sciency with terms spliced in that Sonic had no hope of understanding. A fond smile made its way on his face as he burnt his second marshmallow, looking at the kit.

“—But I think I can make it work! If I rework the leg hydraulics to be lighter, then the rocket boost can—”

“You know I love you, right, little bro?”

Tails stopped, half his s’more in his hand. “...Huh?”

“I said—”

“I heard you. Of course I know, hehe… I love you too, big bro!” Tails bonked his head against Sonic’s arm.

“Heh, just checking.” It was no use to dwell too much. His entire body ached with grief, but if he let it drown everything around him out, he’d never hear the wind when it called to him with the promise of adventure.

It hurt so much, but he had to keep going. For his own sake, of course, but…

But also because Shadow, in his brief time on Earth, didn’t get that kind of freedom. So he’d live for him, if that’s what it took to get him out of this weird funk.

“Hey, how about we hit up the Station Square Diner in the morning? My treat!”

Tails’ eyes lit up. Maybe not at the prospect of the food, but more likely at the suggestion to hang out. “Yeah, that sounds awesome!” Tails finished his first s’more, while Sonic finished eating his second.

“Then it’s settled! C’mon, let’s head to bed now so we can beat the morning rush tomorrow,” Sonic said, standing up and stretching with his comforter’s edge balled up in his fists.

“Aw, but I wanted to work on the Cyclone—”

“Nope! Sorry, but you’re under contractual obligation now, Mister Prower!”

“That’s not how contracts work— eek!”

Sonic grabbed him and bundled the two of them in the comforter, carrying the kit awkwardly on his hip as he struggled. “That’s why you gotta read the fine print, heh.”

“Stoooop! Let me gooo!”

“Nope! It’s sleepy time for geniuses and speedsters!” Sonic dragged both his aching body and the kit’s struggling one up the stairs to the house part of the lab and flopped down on the couch.

“Sonic?”

“Tails?”

“Are we sleeping on the couch tonight?”

“If you don’t mind, then yeah.”

“Hehe, I don’t mind. It reminds me of when we’d sleep outside.”

“Oh?”

Tails shifted so he wasn’t awkwardly pressed against the back of the couch. “Yeah, that’s why I was making s’mores, too. ‘Cuz, u– um. I kinda missed you just a little bit today…”

A small laugh managed to slip out of him. “Aw, bud… maybe I should give phones another try so we can talk while I’m on the go.”

Tails yawned. “That’d be nice…”

Sonic adjusted to make sure his neck wouldn’t hurt like hell in the morning. “G’night, little bro.”

“Good night, big bro.”

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

I'm so obsessed 'SbITILYP' it makes my day whenever it updates! I wonder when Hiccup will be able to get his hands on some roses, especially the protagonist's reaction to receiving flowers?

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 26

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 2,983

Berk is a whole new place and you just might have opened up a whole new door for yourself. It’s probably a good one.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Reader’s POV, Hiccup’s POV, unedited

<Previous - Next>

You kept your eyes glued to the ground.

The leaves of a plant that were scattered across the floor were somewhat recognizable, though you couldn’t place where you’d seen them before. 

Today, though, there seemed to be an excess of them littering the paths around Berk.

You followed a beige dirt path up from the fields, staring at the ground as you carried up a short woven basket full of wheat. It was your day’s payment, the farmer having felt very generous with his store of things.

You didn’t really have a kitchen area, but you weren’t going to refuse a gift. Maybe you could trade with Mrs. Ingerman for something later. It was worth a try.

It had been a while since you’d been into town, having skirted around it for the majority of the day. It’d been a while since you’d seen anyone important, much less Hiccup, and the more time elapsed, the more you avoided, the more antsy you got.

It was noon, and you could feel the sun through your sleeves, a warm thing that made you want to melt into a puddle, like a cat. A nap would be very nice.

It was much quieter than it had been in a while. Things in town had been busy since the Outcasts had been taken into custody. Mildew had been arrested and subsequently exiled and the Outcasts, Alive the Treacherous especially, had been awaiting trial, locked away in the dripping, jailed caves under the Great Hall.

Things had also been very, very quiet and very, very intense. The air was stiff with tension and just about ten times the number of words left unsaid. It was a world of difference compared to the quick gossipy phrases usually exchanged in town.

There was something going on today, though you didn’t care, ready to enjoy some you-time by the cliffs by the coast doing simple jobs and laying in the grass.

Did that have anything to do with the leaves?

You perked up at the call of your name as dirt became wood plank, glancing back towards the fields but not lingering long enough to make out many details. 

You could tell easily, though, that it was Hiccup.

His voice, nasally though it was, set your heart beating like a whole stampede of bulls was pounding dust and you were just about to get trampled encierro style.

“Can I walk with you?” He asked.

You paid only vague attention to his voice in an effort to keep calm, a line of sweat running down your face and hitting the dirt.

There was a strained quality to it; it sounded like he was trying to keep normal. It wasn’t strained in a way that made you believe he was upset so you didn’t worry, more as if he was holding his breath, though for what you had no idea.

Was this how he felt?

“Maybe… Keep looking?” Hiccup hedged, “I’ll follow the path with you, so you dont trip.”

You nodded.

You walked into town like that, eyes on your feet.

The ground turned to wood turned to dirt a few times, your boots tapping and padding against both.

You picked up a leaf once or twice and kept them flat in your palm.

You adjusted your basket twice, though at Hiccup’s insistence, you kept your eyes focused on the ground.

Until you spotted something.. Out of the ordinary.

Something bright red, saturated as the most visible shade of blood drifted down onto the path. It was round, though slightly light at one of the edges, which came to an almost blunt point.

You squinted down at it, bending further with fingers outstretched.

Your fingertips brushed against dirt as you scooped it up, before taking a step as if you were going to keep walking, and then stopping again.

The flesh of it was soft, with what felt like a film on top that was almost like satin, though the flex and feel of it was much different. It felt as if it might split under your nail if you pressed into it, which you nearly did, holding it between the crook of your pointer finger and your thumb.

It was… A petal.

“So…” Hiccup started, coming to a slow stop beside you, “Notice anything different?”

You turned up and looked at him, the sun was inviting and cozy on your cheeks as you pulled them out of your own shadow.

And then you started.

And you dropped your basket, its bottom landing against the ground with hardly a pat.

What you focused on wasn’t Hiccup himself, but more what was behind him. Something you’d missed as you’d walked with your eyes focused on your feet like you were Sherlock Holmes, which you felt funny about now.

It was flowers. 

Roses. Everywhere. 

…Mostly. 

“What…” You said, for the first time.

There were some other species planted throughout donned in multiple different colors, planted alongside houses in various states of bloom, some with thin pipes made of wood connecting to a larger, thicker one, lifted over the lot.

Some in blues and small, wild whites were hanging from planters above, both shelves nailed into the sides of huts and sturdy metal pots with holes in the bottom hanging by tightly woven and painted rope with small strings dangling from the sides.

You could tell that quite a few plants had been the kind repotted from fields and nooks out in the forest, herbs and farm foods planted closer to huts and lined by stones for the sake of convenience, and suddenly a whole lot of things made sense. 

Nearly magenta pink thistle with its spiky green body, hanging purple bluebells, and pink lavender-esque, black spot dotted heather -even one pink Foxglove plant with its many hanging lantern-like flowers sectioned away from the rest in a small metal cage- peeking out from around corners and around huts.

The rose bushes lay large and mostly flowering in large planters, fenced-off using small pikes, fallen leaves and petals bleeding into the space all around, marking your path from the fields all the way to the places in the clearing they’d been planted. 

Up on the hill, you could just barely make out a small rose bush planted just by the pen up by the Chief’s hut.

You had to turn wildly, tracing them back with your eyes, “What…?”

You said it again.

Pale, dry dirt still made up the majority of the clearing, yet leaves and bushes lined the sides of buildings, spilling over upturned, dark earth which dotted the open space, marking boot and dragon tracks across. 

Small carvings of Vikings like gnomes were dotted around the place, arranged in a way that seemed more respectful and worshipful of their depictions than fanciful.

Off in a corner, a small stone fountain in multiple layers, with a little sign which, after many recent, sleepless nights thinking about boys with brown hair and green eyes and stupid freckles and large teeth, you were certain said ‘prototype.’

Vines grew from some thin wood rods to match the metal rods sticking out from the dirt standing, taller than most of the houses, which seemed to be a lot like lightning rods.

“It was a volunteer project,” Hiccup interjected quickly at your silence. 

In your periphery, you could see him step forwards slightly. Jerkily. 

His hands were close together, closer to his torso than away.

“This is…” You started. But you didn’t have the words to express just how you felt. Not yet, when you hadn’t even finished processing the life in front of you.

You inhaled deeply, so quickly your lungs hadn’t time to work it or for you to really feel satisfied by it as you turned yourself bodily, ogling the sight. 

His Dad, the Chief, and the Riders, the Twins egging each other on with dirt gloves, Astrid standing still and attentive as if to involve herself somehow in the conversation the Chief was having with Spitelout, both Chiefly hands pushing back red hair and resting against a mighty back.

Some serious talk about the Outcasts, it looked like, from the way Spitelout was shouting. It seemed that even during the good times, the Chief stayed alert and Spitelout stayed on edge, but there was a softer quality to it here, one that said ‘of course’ and made it seem more funny and fitting than worrying.

“Hey!” You heard the small Larson kid shout as he chased after a girl with bright blue ribbons in her straw-colored hair which held two thick braids together. 

Your attention was briefly drawn towards the indignant shout.

It was then that the Chief briefly turned his attention towards his son, causing your focus to snap back and forth between him and Hiccup with a loud, “Hiccup!”

Hiccup shook him off with his head, despite the fact that you were sure he’d approach, but the look on his face seemed to beg you to keep taking in everything. 

There were dragons lounging on the treetops, all of the Riders’ dragons plus Thornado, off in the far distance, napping on a roof, yellow, which had been covered in soft, grassy plants and clovers, a viking below shouting up at him with a shaking fist.

Stormfly was bobbing her head like a chicken, sitting at the head of a mounted head, which tipped and cracked dangerously under her weight. 

Barf and Belch were off causing chaos, wiggling their heads over a crown of kids while Meatlug was being pampered with fish from a shaded barred and scratched by her rider.

Everyone seemed surprisingly not displeased by the change. 

You could tell who’d helped with the planting by the dirt caked onto their hands and under their nails and by how close they were to the various shovels and buckets piled along the clearing.

Some Vikings had ripped sleeves, others were sweating, arms over their heads to block out the sun, trousers rolled up and helmets displaced off to the side in the shade by huts and under benches. 

Even Mrs. Thorston had come down at one point, harping at other various Vikings and sending googly eyes and comments the Chief either didn’t hear or pretended not to towards his back

You weren’t sure how you missed the sound of chatter, deep and thick all around you.

The two blonde ladies who’d roped you into beadmaking before stood side-by-side, your laundry partner standing tall with crossed arms, gloves dirtied from digging, staining the crooks of her elbows.

She was sewing, needle held over a worn, dirty smock, a dark brown dress and boots packed underneath.

She nudged your laundry partner in the shoulder, pointing towards you with the hand holding her needlepoint.

You even caught a glimpse of the brown-haired fisherman keeping to the more empty alleys and shaded sides of the village clearing, looking as if he’d kind of enjoyed the festivities but also very overwhelmed.

You knew Vikings easily took in the down time given before the storm hit. It was human nature, and with the time to work off restless energy, it seemed a taut line had been released, the air filled with laughter and the bustling, joyful and indignant arguments of children.

The flowers mixed with the paints on the huts and the traditional wood-carved builds on Berk’s homes, which had in fact only grown more complicated since the fall of the Red Death, Berk looked absolutely beautiful. Like everyone here had been born into some sort of eternal festival, and you had just been transported into it; a human in a world made by people who existed beyond reality.

“How did you-... You convinced them to do all of this?” The ‘for me,’ went unsaid. You were too scared to say it, afraid that if you did, the illusion might break and this would all turn out to be a pretty lie, and a pretty lie it was.

You slowly looked back to him, your waist carrying the bulk of your turn.

Someone had just finished clapping him on the back, having must have had at least some exchange of words while you were turned, sharing congratulations as they passed to a hardy woman with a large pitcher of something probably cool and a few mugs. Was it Gobber? 

You couldn’t tell.

You didn’t know Hiccup was such a landscaper.

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said, arms behind his back and stance wide as he shifted his weight on his feet, “They loosened up to the idea after I brought up what they’d do to cover the pipes.”

You noticed the dirt on his elbows, the lack of twine on his sleeves and the splashes of yellow and red paint on his cheek that told you that the color on the houses had looked brighter and more plentiful for a reason.

“I, ah,” You said, stepping closer; leaning closer until you stopped just right in front of him. You could have said something about root damage, maybe, or, or… Anything that would have come out coherent in any sort of way. 

But instead, you felt static, and there was nothing to lead you but the fresh feeling in your chest and the prickling in your toes, intense in a dizzying way that nearly threw you off balance.

“You… Planted all this, for me?” You asked, astonished. Against your will, your face began to heat up in a way that must have looked obvious; you felt blotchy and out of place and absolutely light, airy on the inside in a way that brought you both closer to the moment and into the third perspective. 

You were here and with Hiccup. 

Were you going to do it? You weren’t sure where the question had come from, dazed.

He was looking at you with wide eyes as you grabbed his shoulders and leaned closer, closing your own so hard they must have looked like they had been pinched, though you were incredibly aware.

For a moment, it felt like the whole world was watching, paranoia and embarrassment filling your back, each hair on your neck raising in tune with the number of eyes focused on your spine.

You didn’t have to see to know it, though you spotted people stilling and staring in your periphery.

You weren’t sure whether you did or didn't purse your lips though you knew Hiccup was watching, his shoulders stiffening under your hands.

What if you read this all wrong and you were about to embarrass yourself in front of everybody?

…What were you going to do? Were you really going to try and kiss Hiccup for the first time in front of all his friends and family?

Your back and neck felt hot as if you were sweating, heat fluttering and writhing and squirming in your stomach, rising in a quick crescendo though you knew it wouldn’t be until a few moments yet that you’d feel the first bits of moisture against the small of your waist.

It was too much.

You were brought back into yourself with a jump like the cracking of a stick, able to feel every raw edge like a breeze on an exposed nerve or an out-of-place note in sharp.

“I can’t do this!” You squeaked and slapped your hands over your eyes as you quickly turned and ran away, face burning with embarrassment.

“Wait-!” Hiccup stood, dazed for just a moment, watching your cramble away, running sightlessly back onto the path away from the village through the minor crowd that had gathered there. 

He felt slightly robbed, hand extended. It was very, very hot out and his insides burned in a way that, put together, made him feel on fire in a way that was nearly unbearable.

He stepped over a rose, the rose, a nice enough red one he was sure you hadn’t noticed. The petals had been slightly crumpled and ripped as he’d pulled it from his coat, hastily shoved in when he’d seen you walking up to the village from the fields. 

 It had fallen from his hands after his hands had fallen to his sides as you’d stepped closer with-

Hiccup stared intently at where you had run off to, brows furrowed, feeling very determined.

He needed to catch up to you now.

“Woah,” Tuffnut said, voice dragging distantly, standing in awe a few measures behind him, as people began to laugh and gossip, “That was lame.”

It seemed Hiccup was the only one who’d taken it seriously, the other Vikings happy to play and gossip while what seemed like the most pivotal moment of his life happened right in front of them -No, he was not exaggerating.

His prosthetic creaked as he whipped around, calling for his dragon, “Toothless-!”

He ignored the excited murders beginning in the background, heart racing. 

You’d been… very close.

His dragon was there, giving him as much of a look as there was possible for him to give, as if he himself was somewhat embarrassed by the whole event.

Hiccup gave him a look of his own, wordlessly asking his dragon, ‘So what?’

Hiccup didn’t know what he expected from him as Toothless turned and started trotting away, snorting and grawping as he disappeared into a heavily planted alley, just before he jumped up onto one of the many ramps covering Berk lining the rear ends of some of the houses.

“Aw, come on-” Hiccup started before very quickly running after his dragon, like he did way back across rooftops when dragons were nothing to him but bloodthirsty monsters, arms outstretched, nearly tripping as his foot caught on a tuft of grass, “Toothless!”

[another-bryk-in-the-wall]

Coast (Brian May x f!reader)

i am being cringe fail and writing rpf cause my brain is empty but my heart is full of love for the space poodle.

please enjoy. or don't. i'm not the police.

warning: tooth rotting fluff, rpf

words: 1000

*

“That’s it. I have enough. Pack your things, love, we are gonna drive out.”

Two days ago, Brian had come home from yet another exhausting trip. This time the band had to venture to New York for discussion of new songs, new albums, new tours, new this, new that… Everything new, produce this, do that, and not a single ‘thank you’ was muttered for making the company millions in revenue. They didn’t even book the band some fancy hotel rooms. No no no, they had to save money too. And the worst for Brian? The city. The light pollution was so bad, he couldn’t even see the night sky from his tiny balcony. The whole city smelt like weed, alcohol and piss mixed with vomit. Everyone at the subway stations looked like they’d rather throw themselves on the rails than spend another day in the office. Charming.

To put it short, Brian was pissed when he came back home.

A mutual friend who owned a bit of land an hour and a half away from London was called, arrangements were made quickly, and before you knew it, you were on the road with a stressed Brian. He needed nature so badly, longing for it after only seeing concrete and asphalt these past few weeks. His ears were longing for the songs of the birds early in the morning, maybe even getting woken up by a rooster. His nose was longing for something different than the stench of the city. His eyes were longing for a bright green landscape. But most of all, he was longing for you.

Thankfully the weather forecast seemed good, unusually good for England. On the way to the cabin, it didn’t rain a single drop, the only sound heard was the singing of Brian to the songs on the radio.

At this moment, you mean everything

You in that dress, oh my thoughts I confess

Verge on dirty

“Look Brian, if you have some needs, you have to speak them out loud.”, you couldn’t help yourself, teasing your love next to you. A smile spread over his face and he just had to laugh. Everything you said and did made him so happy. The rose coloured glasses hadn’t gone away, even after so many years.

“Not here, not in the car! Imagine someone sees us and takes a picture!”, Brian faked shock, but you both knew you were even wilder when Queen wasn’t that big. So many fucks in bar bathrooms, behind bars, whenever a few minutes of passion fit into his busy schedule. One time you even did it in a studio, but never again after Freddie complained about the wet spot he accidentally sat on. Oh no, you had spilt your coke before, you had quickly apologized and got a towel to clean the seat. For whatever reason, Freddie believed you. Roger’s quirked eyebrow and his elbow into Brian’s side spoke of a different chain of thought. John was just disappointed, but that was nothing new with the antics you two pulled from time to time.

“You got a point there.”

*

From the cabin, you were able to hear the sea, a sound Brian had missed just as much. Unpacking and getting to know the place you were in, you both were pleasantly surprised. The cabin consisted of one main room, a kitchen, a bathroom and a bedroom. And a small conservatory, big enough to dine in, with a small couch facing the sea.  It was enough for you, enough to calm down and relax. Enough to get away from the craziness that is your life.

After a quick errand run into the nearest town, evening drew close. Together you had cooked a pasta dish Brian loved, some creamy sauce with broccoli and even more herbs. Dinner was served in the conservatory, the stars as witness to how good the pasta tasted.

“Love…”, Brian started halfway through the previously silent meal, piquing her attention, “Could you imagine living like this? Out in the countryside, around us barely anything but nature? Maybe own a few animals?”

You thought for a moment, imagining yourself in this situation. Brian was looking after the sheep you had bought together, bleating heard from all over. For whatever reason he was shirtless and sweaty as he commanded the herd, making sure they were safe and sound. Oh,  dominant, shirtless, sweaty man, even better, YOUR man…

“Earth to (Y/N), Earth to (Y/N), are you still here?”, Brian’s laughter ripped you out of your thoughts, joining him in his laughter.

“Sorry, I just imagined you as a hot farmer!” “Hot farmer! You think that’s something I could pull off?”

“Of course! Brian, my dear, you would make a brilliant farmer! Even better than what Paul McCartney did back in the 70s.”

“Hmmm…maybe? Who knows…”

“And if you suck at farming, we’ll dye your hair white and put you into the stable with the sheep. It’s not like there’d be much of a difference.”

“Hey!”

*

The morning sun tickled your nose, shining through the cracks of the curtains. Despite having two blankets, Brian managed to ditch his own and got under yours, his arms wrapped around your middle. He was a human radiator, spreading warmth and comfort no matter where you were. You smiled at the feeling of pure love spreading through your body and moved into his touch, your body melting against his. It felt as if you were made for each other in every possible sense. The familiar feeling of Brian next to you could calm every bad thought, as they didn’t matter as long as you were with him. The familiarity of him was something you longed and missed so much when he was on tour or whatever trip they had to do for the band, yet there was something exciting and new whenever he came back. Every tour brought something new out of him, something new that you were excited to find and figure out. If this trip was the same? You had yet to discover.

[ladylooch]

Hi, can you please write a timo meier imagine about reader and timo having sex and reader fakes an orgasim at night and tells some of the wags about it next day about how she really fooled him with her acting, not knowing that timo and his teammates overheard everything, his teammates laugh at him and timo gets embarrassed and upset at reader?

Eager Beaver with Timo Meier

A/N: Sometimes I write things and I’m like lmao a man would never say this, which is why we all love it 😆 Hahahaha. Poor Timo just wanted to show you a good time after he got home! Why you gotta do him like that!? Literally!

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content, Swearing, Angst. 

Tonight, Timo is an eager beaver. He’s been on the road for a long time, bouncing around the  East coast. He came roaring into the bedroom when he got home, flipping the covers off your body and dive bombing your breasts. He spent time kissing along the swells, but then he was dipping into your pants with quick fingers that had you reeling trying to catch up to what was happening.

“Please tell me you are close.” He moans into your hair. His thrusts are sooooo slow. And you’re nowhere near there. But his breathing is picking up. And his moans are filling the air of your bedroom. And you think the right thing to do is to perform a little bit to help him out. 

“Yeah, baby. Feels so good.” You coo into his ear, tugging his ear lobe between your teeth. His jerky hips buck into you as you heighten your breathing, moaning his name and arching your back like you’re coming. Timo finishes inside of you, melting into your body afterwards. 

“I needed that.” He confesses, running his hand along your cheek. “It was too long of a trip. I hate missing you that much.” You smile, ignoring the guilt of your conscious that pokes at you for pretending.

He’s happy. You’re happy. No harm done. 

The following day, Timo is whistling as you and him walk into the Children’s hospital visit you both agreed to. A few other team members and their significant others are joining too. He is happy after being reacquainted with you and has an extra pep in his step at seeing some young fans too. The Sharks are filming the visit for a PR video, so both you and Timo get mic’d up when you enter.

“I think this is where I leave you.” He smiles, leaning down to kiss you. The boys are going to do room visits while the girls are heading to some arts and crafts time. “Thank you for coming. It means a lot to me.”

“I know. Me too.” You kiss him back with a little tongue that adds a bright glint to his eyes. 

“Last night not enough, eh?” You widen your eyes and laugh off the pinch of guilt. 

“Good night, huh?” Erik’s wife, Melinda, asks you.

“Ah, yeah I’m letting him think that.” You chuckle. You and Melinda have a good relationship and it feels silly to lie to her about something so minor. 

“Little bit of a show?”

“Eager beaver didn’t know how to wait.” You joke back. 

“Babe.” Timo calls urgently. “Your mic is hot.” You cringe, looking at Melinda who covers hers in shock too. You had completely forget. 

“Sorry.” You cringe, looking at the producer who shrugs like he doesn’t care.

“We can cut it out.”

You look over at Timo who’s cheeks are red and eyebrows pulled down in agitation over his blue eyes. Can the producers cut it out of his brain too? Shit. You open your mouth to say something and he shakes his head, walking off with the rest of the group to the elevators. You close your eyes, knowing him well enough to understand he is really upset. 

The day drags on, The kids are cute and you do your best to interact with a positive attitude. But all you want is to see Timo and explain. What you’ll say, you still haven’t figured out, but it has to be something to soothe him. 

At the end of the event, he is somehow in a worse mood than before while you’re walking to the car together.

“What the fuck was that?!” He snaps at you. “I just spent two hours being annihilated by the guys for that. In front of the PR team. And young kids.” 

“I’m sorry. I forgot about the mic.” 

“I don’t..” He trails off, hands slapping against his thighs as he keeps walking to the car. “I don’t know what to say.” He completes his thought when you’re both in the car. You try to reach for his hand and he pulls away. “No, I’m really upset. I’m going to drop you at home and leave.” His tone is final. He refuses to look at you on the speedy ride home. You get out of the car and Timo roars off behind you before you’ve even gotten into the front door.

It’s agony being at home without him. You have no idea where he is. Your heart aches for what happened this morning. You feel so awful about what you did last night too. Why didn’t you tell him to slow down? Why didn’t you show him what you needed instead of pretending everything was fine? Why didn’t you remember the mic they put on you literally two minutes before that happened?

The sun has set when the garage door begins to open. You set your glass of wine on the end table and turn to look over the couch at the door. Timo comes in with take out bags for dinner and a bouquet of flowers. You hide your face in the couch cushion, feeling completely unworthy of whatever romantic display he is about to do. He puts a hand on your hair, tugging your pony tail for you to look at him.

“I was really embarrassed earlier and I didn’t know how to communicate with you about why.” You rest your chin on the back of the couch while he kneels down to be eye level with you. His thumb strokes your cheek while the rest of his fingers caress your neck. “I missed you and thought I showed you how much last night. That’s why it was so upsetting. I can take the heat from the guys. Whatever. But not giving you that experience feels awful.” 

“I’m sorry. I should have told you, but you were so eager. And it was hot. I loved so much of that but I was also half asleep when you came in and…” You close your eyes, having a hard time seeing his forehead crinkle in worry. “It wasn’t enough.” You finish, not having any other words to describe it. He nods. 

“That is fair.” He leans forward to share a tender kiss with you. “Let’s make a deal to not do that again.”

“Never.” You agree, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He lifts you over the back of the couch, standing with you in his arms. Your ankles hook together at his lower back. The hug lasts for awhile, softly stroking each other’s back, leaning heads together and sharing a few more smooches. “I love you.” You say sweetly. He smiles, the corners of his eye crinkling in joy. 

“I love you too.” He murmurs. “Come see what I got us for dinner.” 

[soundlesswind]

Dusseldorf, post-thoughts (extras)

Extended extra-post of the trip to Dusseldorf. Less to do with the con, and more microblogging. I had a good time, and also had some notable happenings that were kinda interesting.

(the photos in this post will be randomly placed)

First report --- Airport: I don't know why, but we went through TSA a total of three times on the way to Dusseldorf, which is a bit extra. It's roughly about a 7-8hr flight from east coast Canada to Frankfurt, and then another short half-hour trip from Frankfurt to Dusseldorf, but if you include all the wait time it's about a 10-16hr trip of just being in the airport. There were also some delays and plane mishaps but miraculously we made it to Germany without missing our connecting flight. Not much trouble on the way here, other than that everything is simply just really far apart.

Their TSA lines truly are vertical though when it comes to ticket class *laughs*... gosh we had to walk what felt like 10-miles through the path to the customs line because we weren't first class tickets, and there were several other stop points for other ticket types along the way. It really is a pay-for-convenience world. Not that it's unusual to have expedited lines for pricier tickets but it was weird being made to purposely walk through a much longer route along a mall strip for really no apparent reason (especially on an hour of leeway to the next flight). I could've gained some crazy miles on my fit-bit if I had brought it with me. But if I wasn't in a hurry, the walk might've been nice.

Very little AC runs throughout the buildings, if at all. And this is true for the majority of the trip, minus a few eateries and shops. Which I'm okay with, since I usually enjoy mildly warm temperatures, but I think it'd be pretty tough for people who run more hot as it is slightly humid from the rain. Although I did suffer running through the airport a bit, it wasn't too bad. It was cloudy all week, with only one day of rain, but I think that was a blessing in its own way.

I was warned in advance that finding toilets in Germany would be a bit difficult --- and it sort of is. Yes you can find one if you look, but there are signs leading up or down or to other paths for a toilet, and it was strange. Although I do quite prefer their low-water-flush toilets, and have a similar one myself. I kept some change on me all the time, since I was also told the toilets had to be paid for, but I didn't actually end up needing them since I was mostly either at the event or at the hotel. The hand-towel spinner seems really eco, though; as is their bottle-recycle-system. I think in terms of being more environmentally-friendly, NA is really behind the EU.

The trip from Dusseldorf airport to downtown is actually quite short and quick. Taxi fares aren't that bad at all. It's about 30-euros to and from my hotel. They also have Ub*r, which is cheaper, but I wasn't really in the mood to experiment with that, so cab it was.

It was super weird though, landing in Germany but staying in Dusseldorf's Little Tokyo...there were Asian shops all around, and it kinda didn't feel like I was in Germany (lol). But funny enough the same was true about Tokyo. When I got to Tokyo (Japan) --- the town square had changed so much, it became all American-brand shops so it felt like I was in America, and not Japan. Most of the Asian stores in the Dusseldorf area also seem Japanese-run, as they would automatically speak to me natively instead of opting for either German or English.

In terms of spending and pricing, everything is more or less rounded. I've only experienced round-prices in Asia but I didn't know it was the same in Germany. Just like Japan, tipping isn't a thing here either, which was nice because I didn't have to math out what I'd be paying at a tax rate I wasn't used to. Quite a difference from Canada or America where you sort of low-key get judged depending on how much you've tipped (sometimes pre-tipping or tipping is obligated).

Our hotel room was interesting...it adopts a system similar to a few other energy-conservation places where the electricity for the room only runs if you slot the card key into the holder. Otherwise the room's electricity, AC, and everything else stays off.

The strangest thing was the sink being outside of the bathroom. Interesting design choice? Is this common? I don't know. I probably should've asked the other guests staying at the other hotel.

There was one day where we rode on the shuttle with Toshio Maeda, an elderly gent, (who apparently is one of the forefather of tentacle erotica in Japan), and he mentioned his room being way too chillingly cold. Which, kind of seems like his room has central instead of individual thermostats. His English is great by the way (honestly had a George Takei vibe to it), and he had so much dirt on American cons, I laughed. I could tell by what he was saying, that he's been to a certain large US-based expo a number of times given that he understands their internal working structure way too well.

Initially, I knew he was a guest, but not what for, so when he said he was the forefather of tentacle porn, I was like "really!?". And then his wife, who sat beside me in the middle row explained (in Japanese) that they have a booth in the R18 section. I thought it was really cute they travelled together. Just an old couple, vending erotica.

We were staying in the same place as one of the bands, if I recall, but I only ran into them a handful of times. We had planned on mingling at the Saturday party, but I was too tired so my assist and I just went back, ate, and called it a night.

So the entirety of the weekend I asked around, whether it was staff or visitors, or people who lived in Germany for food recommendations, and oddly the responses seemed to be recommending me either Japanese food or they weren't sure because they don't live in the area, and at this point, I was eating too much Asian food and wanted authentic German food. The only issue was given the convention hours, I would be up too early or would be back too late to go anywhere (a lot of places close quite early-ish). It wasn't until the 4th or 5th day that I decided we were going to Ub*reats some locale food. The ofenfrische schweinshaxe (pork knuckle?) was amazing, by the way. 23 euros, even after conversion was still a steal. Food is just so much cheaper elsewhere than North America.

I had one free day left post-con to do exploration, unfortunately I wasn't feeling well so the full-day tour ended up being a quarter, but we still managed to see quite a bit within walking distance.

The locals were also very friendly, helpful, and multilingual. Even when the shopkeepers didn't speak English, there was always someone nearby who could and offered to help. Overall it was a nice trip.

Also, while it doesn't quite feel like island time or anything, being in Dusseldorf overall felt much less "rush-rush-rush" and way more relaxed than back at home.

I think if I visit again, it'd be nice to do a more thorough exploration of what the area has to offer. Overall it was a lovely trip.

...To end things off, though, I'll leave you with one hilarious story of the travel back home.

+-+-+-+-+-+

So I had bought some cookies and sausages as souvenirs for friends and family, and I put them all into my carry-on luggage...but while going through TSA, one of the sausages got dinged by the sensors. I was confused because it wasn't liquid or anything, it's just a really long whole sausage (around....35cm?), and the TSA officer was basically rummaging through the sausages and patting them and squeezing them down and eventually he says to me:

"This sausage, too soft, too squishy, you can't take this on board. This other one *squeezes firmly* it's ok, it's very firm and hard. *smacks it a few times*"

I was like, "Oh...okay..." (internally crying because it was kinda expensive, but also crying because I just literally lived through a dirty joke).

I think he felt really bad for me, but rules are rules? I didn't think soft meat would be considered too much like a liquid.

Anyway, the remaining sausages were tasty. The PSA is: be careful what you bring through TSA.

[malbecmusings]

Hinchinbrook Island

July 28, 2023 - Even though our flying time to Cordova was only supposed to take about four hours, we started early to allow time to buzz a couple of the more than a dozen glaciers along our route and possibly land if we found a safe (and legal) place. We decided to provision last night while we had access to a bigger, better store. That chore done, we still needed to refuel in Cordova before flying to Hinchinbrook, ideally arriving before the incoming tide swallowed our 'runway'.

Vast. A word I often read in descriptions of Alaska. Get high enough and the land seems to stretch out forever before you. I now understand what they mean. Leaving Juneau we flew direct to the coast then northwest with the northern reach of the Rocky Mountains, here the Chugach Mountain range, off to starboard and the Gulf of Alaska to port. In another plane with pressurization (and a second engine) we could have flown over the mountains, but we'd have been flying much higher and with less awesome scenery to enjoy.

The braided Copper River spills into the Gulf of Alaska via a broad delta a few miles from our first stop of the day. Thirty miles upriver we flew over the impressive Childs Glacier which lies barely 1,000 feet from the riverbank opposite the glacier. Large chunks of ice calving off the glacier have been known to send mini tsunamis to the opposite shore, which sends a wall of water and the famous Copper River salmon well inland. A couple of miles upriver is the Million Dollar Bridge, so named for its construction cost when it was built in 1910 by JP Morgan and Daniel Guggenheim. It's one of 129 bridges and 200 miles of track the Copper River and Northwestern Railway built to haul $200 million in copper ore from the now-defunct Kennicott Mine to the port at Cordova. That one was hard to mark off the itinerary but time and logistics didn't allow us to visit on this trip. Next time, maybe.

After a quick stop in Cordova, we headed toward what would be our home for the night. Hinchinbrook and Montague Islands guard the entrance to and protect Prince William Sound. Even by Last Frontier standards these are remote locations. Given how quickly the weather can change, these can be challenging places to get into... and out of. The only residents of the islands are, primarily, deer and brown bears. We're told Montague, the island to the west and our destination tomorrow, is where Alaska Fish and Game and the US Forest Service relocates aggressive "problem" bears. The guide service that runs the "FBO" in Cordova, which is a fuel pump, warned us again to be very aware of the 'residents'. "They're nearly impossible to see in thick brush and they can plow through that brush like a bulldozer." Duly noted. A graduate student from the University of Alaska Fairbanks doing research on fish populations on the Copper River put it in even more stark terms.

"You know how most animals typically run from big noises?" We nodded in near unison. "These bears don't. They aren't afraid of noise. They aren't afraid of anything. The bears on the islands have developed a Pavlovian response to gunfire. They run *toward* the sound because they've learned gunfire = hunters = food. They're very, very territorial. They can smell the blood and will fight and eat whatever they find whether it's a down deer or another bear, or the hunting party themselves if given the chance."

Our accommodation on Hinchinbrook is a small, very (very) primitive Forest Service cabin, but one with spectacular views in every direction. These cabins on the islands are very popular with hunters who come in late summer and fall to hunt deer... and the bears. I'd much rather be visiting by dinghy and sleeping on Isa but there are challenges to that, too. A lack of a protected anchorage and deep, deep water but that's a problem for another trip. After getting everyone on the ground, pulling the planes well up above the high tide line, and securing them, we ferried what we'd need to the cabin and set up camp. Not ready to settle in, we hiked a couple hundred yards across a clearing and through a patch of woods, and a live wall of mosquitos, to the beach. Another moment of realizing how vast this place is was staring across a 40 mile wide expanse of deep, cold water toward the mainland. We walked a few miles along the beach to a point where we got a good view of Montague Island before turning back. The only bear signs we saw were a couple of old looking prints in the gravel near where we turned around. We made another gourmet freeze dried dinner and played cards before fitting ourselves into jigsaw like sleeping positions inside the cabin.

Tomorrow morning we need to be up, fed, and packed up for an early launch to avoid the first high tide, or wait on the ground until late afternoon.

[bestatsavingface]

Valentine

"What are those?"

Leon's voice bounces off the bare walls of their current squatting place, a mostly-furnished row home in the heart of Philadelphia. He's shrugging off his jacket, a shiver running down him as some of the snow that's piled on his shoulders slips down his back. He squirms and shakes it all off before beelining straight to the flash of red that caught his eye when he first walked in, almost tripping as he kicks his boots off and narrowly avoids stepping in a quickly growing puddle from the snow still stuck to them.

"Do I actually have to answer that?" Chris calls out to him from the kitchen, a playful lilt in his voice Leon knows means he's teasing. A gigantic bouquet of blood-red roses is on the coffee table. They're gorgeous, just in bloom, and to Leon's surprise as he touches a soft petal, he can tell that they're real.

"Where the fuck," Leon interrupts himself with a laugh that he couldn't hold back, "Did you find living roses in the middle of an apocalypse?" He picks up the vase, pressing his face into the delicate flowers and breathing them in. It smells heavenly.

Chris comes out to greet him now, and Leon laughs again as he immediately realizes Chris has found quite the jackpot today apparently. He's in new clothes, his usual tee and cargo pants swapped out for a half-done up button down and a pair of jeans that hug Chris' thighs so nicely that Leon has to fight himself to look away from them and back up at his companion's face.

"Looking good, Redfield," Leon murmurs as he sets the roses down and pulls the other man in for a quick kiss. Chris complies happily, a warm hand settling on Leon's lower back as Chris pulls him in for another kiss right after before pulling back and grinning at him.

"I got you something too, go get changed before you get frostbite." As if on cue another shiver rolls down Leon and he takes the stairs two at a time, hurrying up to their makeshift bedroom to see what awaits him. Leon's pulled off almost all his layers by the time he stumbles into their room, flicking on the light and smiling as it blinks on without issue. The lights were what drew Chris and Leon to the row home to begin with, one of very few buildings with brightness filling them still. The gas-powered generator they found connected to it was a godsend in plenty of ways, but Leon thinks the access to light is still his favorite. The closest to normalcy they'd found in these last few months, and one of the only reasons they hadn't continued their journey yet. That plus traveling the east coast in winter sounded like a death sentence.

On their bed is a few pieces of clothing, Chris got him choices. Leon's hands immediately grab the comfiest looking item, which turns out to be a thick knit sweater, deep blue and incredibly soft. He pulls it on, glad to see it fits well, the ends of the sleeves just reaching slightly past his wrists. There are a few pairs of pants as well, and he ends up putting on a pair of gray jeans which he may or may not spend a few minutes admiring himself in right after.

"Chris!" Leon calls as he heads back downstairs, suddenly remembering the bag that he'd abandoned by his boots at the door. "I forgot to tell you, I found something good today too." He grabs his bag and shakes what little snow is still stuck to it before plopping down on the couch, opening it, and rummaging through his haul for the day.

"There's a CVS not too far from here that wasn't ransacked, the pharmacy had been locked up. I got a ton of medicine, and some Gatorade, aaand," Leon waits til Chris settles down next to him and pulls out a handful of something, brandishing it at Chris who takes a moment to recognize what it is before snatching it and whooping in delight.

"I never thought I'd see a Reese's pumpkin again," Chris mock sobs as he clutches the handful of chocolate-peanut butter pumpkins to his chest, letting out an even louder cry of delight when Leon shows him that the lower half of his bag is completely full of them. "I think I might love you, Leon. I think this was the reason I suffered through Georgia with you, to get here, to this point. It's finally worth it."

Leon rolls his eyes, making a half-hearted grab to take the pumpkins back as Chris leans away and clutches them tighter. "Don't make me crush the rest of these, Redfield, I'll sacrifice this bag in a heartbeat." Chris laughs and leans in, dropping the Reese's packs back into the bag in favor of cradling Leon's head in his hands as he leans in for a gentle kiss. Leon relaxes into it, their playfighting forgotten instantly as he kisses back and grasps at Chris' biceps in an unconscious habit.

"I got you something too," Chris tells him between a couple more kisses, Leon's lips curling into a smile as Chris finally pulls away again and moves to grab something he'd hidden under the coffee table.

"Roses, a new sweater, I'd say I got plenty already, Chris," Leon says with a happy sigh, leaning back into the couch as he admires the man in front of him.

"Shut up," Chris mutters, making Leon chuckle. He straightens up again, the present hidden behind his back as he looks at Leon with a weirdly serious look. "So, I decided to check out that big building with the glass roof we saw when we first came to town. Turns out it's some kind of fancy mall. It's where I got the clothes, and they had these roses too, they're preserved or something so they stay like that for ages apparently."

"Anyways, an electronic display at one of the stores seemed to run on some kind of everlasting battery because it was showing the right time so I think it had the right date for today too. I know we'd lost track somewhere around Maryland. It's February 14th."

"February, damn we were way off then." Last Leon guessed he'd thought they'd only just reached January. That meant winter would be over sooner than they expected, at least. Chris gives him an expectant look, which makes Leon furrow his brows as he tries to figure out what he'd missed in what Chris said. It doesn't hit him until Chris sighs and pushes a box into his hands, lips quirked into an exasperated smile as Leon blurts out, "Valentine's Day!"

"Quick as ever, bud," Chris teases, the affection that floods his voice downplaying any pretend animosity he tries to give. "Sorry, it's not heart-shaped." It's then Leon realizes he's been handed a large box of chocolates, the elegant script scrawled across it some French name he doesn't want to even attempt to pronounce. "So, what's your answer?"

"What's the question?" Leon looks at Chris curiously, trying not to smile as he watches Chris' face redden with embarrassment.

"Will you be my Valentine?"

[umichenginabroad]

New Zealand Part 2 (Week 12)

With Milford Sound and Te Anau in the books, we made our way back through Queenstown and to Wanaka, a small resort town on a lake. Most well known for a tree, Wanaka is a peaceful town with a single main street and little else to distract you from the incredible views in all directions. As for the tree, it is not one to be missed. Surrounded by water and a backdrop that belongs on your computer’s homescreen, the scene makes for a satisfying image during the day and an even more satisfying picture at sunset. Judge for yourself:

With some time to kill, I went on what was easily one of the most beautiful runs I’ve ever gone on followed by a quick dip in Lake Wānaka. The sheer beauty and tranquility of the town surely made it one to come back to. After a relaxing dinner and walk around the town, we headed straight to bed in preparation of an early wake up the next day. Then, it was off to Mt. Cook! This was the day I laid eyes on the most spectacularly blue water I never would have imagined. Here is a picture of just one of the lakes that popped up during the drive:

The hike to Mt. Cook, New Zealand’s highest peak, was short, but wildly beautiful. I particularly enjoyed the conversations we had as we hiked. There’s something about walking with friends towards a common goal that brings out the conversationalists in all of us. From getting to know one another’s favorite passions and hobbies, to debating the value of the seemingly infinite photos we take on our phones everyday, everyone was engaged with a walking partner or group the entire time. A Go Blue! was even shouted at a walking passerby in a Michigan sweatshirt. I can assure you we’ve seen one on almost every trip, but I’ve just forgotten to mention it. Here are a few of the views from the hike:

One of the campervans joined us car groups, so this picture includes almost everyone!

And below is the final lookout. Pictured from left to right are Shaunak, myself, Evan, and Joel, a student from Germany taking a gap semester abroad!

We spent the next few days driving down the eastern coast from Christchurch, New Zealand’s second largest city, back down to Queenstown. Unfortunately, this drive lacked the staple lakes and mountains we all loved, and I found it to be less scenic than the western coast. Take it from me, no need to leave the western coast of the South Island except for a quick visit to Christchurch if you want to see what a big city looks like in paradise. As soon as we made it to Queenstown, we let the adventures begin! Personally, I was only adamant about skydiving, so skydive I did. Skydive almost everyone did. Something about studying abroad for a semester really makes students adrenaline junkies. I don’t know if it’s the freedom that comes with living so far from home or the desire to make the most of the once-in-a-lifetime study abroad experience, but I was more than happy to partake. Having done iFly (indoor skydiving) at 10-years old, I was extremely calm going into it. A self-declared seasoned skydiver, I convinced myself I knew exactly what to expect. Boy, was I mistaken. It all happened so fast. As soon as we got to the skydiving center, we were separated into groups, put into gear, matched with a pro, and falling out of a plane flying at 9,000ft all in the span of 20 minutes. While the whole thing lasted just 3-4 minutes, the actual freefall was about 25 seconds. 25 seconds of wind blowing, hands freezing, and utter awe. I simply could not stop smiling the whole way down. The incredible weather met with the incredible views of a lake and mountains was the perfect recipe for skydiving. No matter how scared everyone was going into it, everyone came out euphoric.

Outside of skydiving, the last two days in New Zealand were a choose-your-own-adventure. While some were out at the world’s biggest canyon swing, others were kayaking in the lake and getting massages. Shaunak, Evan, and I found ourselves playing mini golf in sombreros we got from a Mexican restaurant. I also spent a good bit of time on our AirBnB balcony. With this view, how could I not??

All in all, I couldn’t recommend the South Island of New Zealand more to my fellow adventurers and adrenaline junkies. The main thing we learned from the trip was to plan more time hiking and less time in the car! Road trips make us excited to explore as many different places as possible, but constantly being on the move and driving several hours each day really takes a toll on you. But no regrets — I’ll be back! 

David Bayer

Biomedical Engineering

University of New South Wales in Sydney, Australia

[automatayaoi]

hiii its an active content day for me 🐸 finally starting on writing kero into kkc scenes, this is pretty short but i wanted to establish why/how they end up going with the others to mont saint michel. i also included the relevant manga pages at the end so u can imagine them there 💕

The ringing in their ears--that was all there was at first. Harsh and shrill, so loud they could barely hear their heart pounding underneath it. Then it was was the ache, blooming all across their body and sharpened at the edges by a sting. They try to sit up, but their world having so recently been turned on its head makes their stomach lurch with the effort, and they have to stop before they tumble further down whatever grassy ditch they landed in.

Voices start to cut through the noise, and they reach for the closest as it turns familiar. Lise--right, Lise’s voice. They’d been sitting with her and the others in the back of the circus truck, when there was--something, an explosion maybe, and they’d all been sent flying. Kero had grabbed onto Lise, more out of instinct than anything. And then the pain, the ringing, the ache; at least they softened the blow for her, hopefully.

There’s another voice, too, unfamiliar, coasting over something they can’t place. Too quiet to be caught under the still pulsing ring, but the noise is sharp; a creaking, metal-on-metal tick that sets their nerves on edge--

A scream cuts through the haze, and the aches fall away as Kero’s focus comes to a narrow point. One hand closes around a clammy, trembling shoulder as the other plants in the dirt to force themselves upward. Their vision is still fuzzy, whether from smoke or concussion, and the shapes in front of them don’t make sense; massive, towering not-quite animals, twisted bodies staring through them as a predator watches prey. They shudder, nearly freezing then, but they can hear Ryouko crying again, and they force themselves forward.

“Fuck, what the fuck,” is all Kero manages as their arms wrap around the two girls in front of them. They try to pull them back, turn to shield the girls with their body, but they barely even have time to breathe before the animal-things are bounding towards them all teeth and claws, and the only thing they can do is squeeze their eyes shut and hope they aren’t screaming, too.

Something blows past them, so close they feel a sudden burn as the corner of a claw takes a chunk out of their earlobe--but it’s far less than the evisceration they’d been expecting. The realization goes through them like a shock, and just as quick, they’re pushing up onto shaky legs and pulling the girls up with them, instinct driving their body before their head can wrap around why they aren’t dead yet.

“Go, move, now!” The second all three are on their feet, Kero starts to push the girl out in front of them. They don’t know where to turn, which direction is safe, but they know they have to run and get as far away as they can. Even if part of them knows they won’t be able to outrun creatures like that--if they could even be called creatures.

“We have to stand our ground!” Lise protests, but Kero just keeps pushing, following along behind Ryouko as she sprints for a thatched house a few yards away.

“Standing our ground will get us killed, Lise!” They can feel that man--an automata, they’re sure now--glaring into their back, and it’s all they can do to keep their feet steady and not trip over their own fear.

It almost works, until they hear the pounding of claws against the dirt as the automata yells to take their heads.

That’s when the terror seizes them--and when Lise suddenly stops in her tracks.

“What are you doing?!” Kero nearly runs right into her, and has to skid to the side to avoid knocking her down, instead bumping into Ryouko as they turn on their heel. Lise doesn’t answer them; she just stands, shoulders squared, and all too calmly takes a carpetbeater hanging off the nearby clothesline.

“Kero, Ryouko. Please, just watch me.” She glances back at the two, seeming to pay no heed to the automata monsters running towards them, towards her. No trace of fear weighs her down or cracks the unshakable confidence that now radiates from her.

“I’m still a wild animal tamer.”

[sockeye-run]

Wuhuuuuuhhhh it's been such a long past few days, lol.

My husband's friend and his family arrived on Thursday night. Friday was a very busy bee pick up day at work, but I got home a bit early and was able to hang out with everyone for a few hours. We just sat and chatted, it was nice to catch up. The boys decided to go for a food run, unfortunately just as a huge storm was blowing in. On the way home, a massive oak had fallen across the only access road to our house; it had apparently just happened when they encountered it, and one of the other cars stuck behind it happened to have an axe with him and was fruitlessly chopping away. The boys decided to get out anyway, in the thundering rain and wind, and help move what they could. Thankfully, a neighbor with a chainsaw arrived and made quick work of the rest of it. I'm so grateful they weren't hurt in the process and managed to completely clear access to the road for everyone.

Saturday was a painfully early morning, as I opened the cafe for breakfast service. Everything went smoothly though, and my husband brought his friend and his family out to the farm to visit and check it out. They really enjoyed it! And it was so fun to have my own guests there.

Two days prior, a very young kitten had been found alone in the road in front of the farm. He has been kept and taken care of by one of the girls, but they couldn't keep him permanently and were looking for an adopter. Last year my husband's friend had to put his family cat down for illness 💔. And they were more than happy for the opportunity to adopt a new baby! So they even got to leave the farm with a sweet new pet. We got baby kitten supplies on the way home. It seems very healthy and 'normal' and energetic, and they love him.

Sunday we went out to the local east coast style deli for big sammies and some local tourism, but because I live in the small town south, everything else was closed for church, so we just went to the community pool for a few hours instead. They eventually made their way home successfully, and my husband and I crashed hard lol. It seems like it was a good trip for everyone overall.

Yesterday I got to work to learn that there were some issues with last week's bee pick up. The owners were both gone for their son's wedding all weekend, so they depended on us to make pick ups work. Somehow some of the wrong items were handed out, some of the nucleus colonies had significant structural issues, and many more queens than what is normally expected were DOA. On top of these set backs, my coworker began printing and preparing shipments without waiting for our owner's morning meeting mass texts lol, in which she lays out the game plan for the day. This matters because our bee season has been significantly delayed and scrambled up by natural forces outside of our control, as well as a bit of human error, and she is the only one with the master list of shipments and pick ups that are altered to the new timeline. She's been organizing everything by hand at home and contacting the customers individually in order to reschedule their bees, which I can only imagine is a tedious nightmare. We've had thousands of customers this year. And the information we have access to in the office at the farm is outdated and incorrect, so my coworker was starting a huge batch of orders that weren't meant to be ready. The customer gets a notification when their order is marked as 'shipped' which happens automatically when you purchase the shipping label. And she sent out a massive and incorrect bee order to the beekeepers, which sent them into a panicked frenzy as well, desperately trying to prep the impossible. So we had to stop everything, reorganize, and start over, while manually contacting over a hundred customers to apologize for the random shipment notification and figuring out how many bees we actually needed. All while doing normal Monday stuff, fielding regular phone calls, customer visits, and stocking inventory until our eyes bleed.

I tried my best to work on the calendar for the new month so that everyone could have a glance ahead to see what to expect, but per usual, things will change on a weekly and daily basis, so it's almost moot lol. Hopefully we can get back on top of bee orders before the end of the month when we host BuzzFest, our biggest and usually most entertaining event of the year. It's a bee-themed festival from morning till night on the farm with food, music, activities, bees, vending, and more. I can only assume I'll be stuck in the cafe for my first BuzzFest lol, but it'll still be a great time, I'm sure. But it takes us two days on weekends, our usual bee pick ups, to set up, and we're still two weeks behind...

Today is the first of FOUR large field trips at the farm this week. 50+ people today doing a three part experience rotation: hive tour, candle craft, and honey tasting. We're calling in the part timers for register support, but hopefully we can still manage this on top of whatever corrections and shipments need to be made. The guest leading the group called to ask YESTERDAY if she could come over an hour early, just after we technically open, and for reasons unknowable to God and man, the owner told me to say yes 😭. I couldn't get a hold of our head beekeeper, who does the hive tours, so I'm hoping beyond hope he saw the 20 some odd notes I left for him all over the farm lol. It could be a stressful one.

Oh yeah, and I put together and shipped a 'get well soon' package for that poor lady who fell and broke her nose.

I'm very burnt out. I'm finding it impossible to fully relax and re-energize after any form of rest or relaxation or self care etc. I'm still regularly having stress dreams. I'm well past running on fumes, and I'm just grinning nihilisticly through the struggle and bearing as much as I can, ignorantly and toxic-optimistically hoping a random break will just arrive out of the blue soon.

Kitty tax:

[seabreeze2022]

2023 Bahama Cruise, Part 28. May 12 Governors Harbor, Alabaster Beach, Eleuthera.

This is the chart blow up of Governors Harbor, to give you an idea of the area. Against advice on the chart and our friends who were here a couple of days earlier. We anchored inside the harbor. Our anchor dug in well, and we recklessly never dove it.

After a quick trip to the grocery store for a dozen eggs and another bottle of Coconut Rum. We walked around the harbor shore line. We visited the old cemetery near the water. It was well kept with some very old Grave Stones. Behind the cemetery was the St. Patrick’s Anglican Church, built in 1848.

Just around the corner from the church was this beautiful building. It is the “Haynes Library” built much later in 1897. Notice the huge concrete buttresses at the corners, facing 45 degrees from the building. The ones in the back go almost all the way up the second floor. This library was built to withstand a Hurricane. Hurricane Andrew came nearby in 1992 as a Category 3 Hurricane.

Cupid’s Cay makes the outer hook of the harbor. Not sure if it was a separate Cay originally or not as the name would suggest. But today it is connected to the mainland by a substantial causeway. Cupid’s Cay was the home of the first Bahama Parliament in 1736.

On Cupid’s Cay was the first U.S. Consulate to the Bahamas in 1789.

This is a hotel rental on the Cupid’s Cay. This reminds us of old Key West. We walked back to the dinghy and then moved to the boat for the night.

The next morning we did a quick walk through the better part of town. These were well kept up old houses that you can rent. Grounds were green with landscaping and well kept. Really reminds us of Old Key West.

This walk took us over the top of the ridge about 142 ft. high. The ends up going through a carved out are to keep it from being so steep. There was an cement cistern reservoir at the top to supply water pressure to the neighborhood.

From the top we could see both coast of the island. Once we finished this short walk it was back to the boat and move anchorages. Governors Harbor left a good impression with us. Part of it was like most of the settlements. Parts were going high class rentals. Lots of history in this town.

As always the few people we met were very nice and friendly. Apparently there are no snakes on this Island. The chickens and rosters have run amuck. The crowing starts early and is continuous for hours before daybreak.

This is Alabaster Bay. It is 6 miles north of Governors Harbor.

On Monday 13th, we hike 3.7 miles round trip. First across the island to the abandoned US Navy Base. Right turn and a 1 mile plus hike down the beach. Lunch at “The Deck” then continuing clockwise out to the Queen’s Highway and home.

In 1950 this USNavy Base was started as an experimental SOSUS (Sound Surveillance System) having 6 hydrophones deployed off shore. Then in 1958 it became a missile tracking site for US missiles launched from Cape Canaveral. Typical of USNavy bases on islands, they concrete the sides of hills to catch the rain water at the bottom. See photo above, there were several of these. The base was closed in 1982. During its tenure, usually only the Base Commander was actually in the military. The other personnel worked either for Pan American Airways (Pan Am) or Radio Corporation of America (RCA).

In 1957 the base became the Eleuthera Auxiliary Air Force Base (AAFB).

Being a sailor I can’t help but drag a large clump of net and floats up to the high tide mark. It would be a nightmare if you fouled your prop in the open ocean with something like this.

This is “The Deck”. A bar and grill on the oceanside. It is owned by Mark Robert a descendent of the original settlers at Hope Town Abaco.

Bacon Cheese Burgers in Paradise. We learned a new trick. When flies are giving you a problem, light a can of sterno. Even after you put it out they stay away for several minutes.

This is all the treasure we collected on the beach. The most prized of the different sea beans, is the “Hamburger bean” (front left).

It was a slow hike back to the boat after the huge lunch. Nancy cut my hair and beard. After a short recovery time from the lunch. We pulled anchor and sailed north to Hatchet Bay. We tried to out run some storms coming up from the south. Didn’t work out so well.

Using Standard WaterTribe rules. We reefed early. If reefing even enters your mind, then you should go ahead and reef (pull in) your sails. Since we did, the gust from the storm never materialized.

This very well could be a hairy entrance., it is 80 ft. wide and has rock cliffs. Large amount of current to get in and out of this small cut. We had 2 ft. swells and 12-15 kt. winds.

We came into the bay and put out a “Security call” on VHF announcing our entry into the bay. The mailboats and car ferries never say when they are approaching or exiting the harbor. We assume they have a VHF, but they seldom ever answer.

We entered during the top of the flood tide, so no current was evident. We put our anchor down in the north end of the harbor. Only 8 cruisers here. Three left the next morning.

S/V Sea Breeze, Alabaster Bay, Eleuthera, Bahamas.

[pointreyesjournal]

The Amnesiac : ep27

Wednesday: The Day of Departure

River is an early riser. Earlier than me. Morning runs in college have conditioned her to wake before dawn, a habit which has been perpetuated by her job at the coffee shop. For the second consecutive day I’m awakened with River nibbling on my lip in the darkness of morning. “Floody, we’ve got to get up. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.” I’m laying flat on my back and River is laying on top of me. My first reaction is to grab her firmly and trip to flip over on top of her, but she holds me down with a hand against my chest. “Shhhh” she says “Easy boy … not this time.”

River has done a little reconnaissance while I was sleeping and knows that I’m hard as a rock when I wake up. I reach my hands far up over my head and all of the muscles in my body tense up for a morning stretch. When the stretch ends, my body relaxes and I exhale away the sleep and melt into the mattress in complete relaxation just as River slips my body into hers. We inhale simultaneous gasps of pleasure. I remain silent and still as River the cowgirl rides me at her own pace, gently and rhythmically with lots of kissing and touching. No roughhousing or gymnastics this morning. This is “single position” lovemaking, and she orgasms pretty quickly. Me shortly after. “I had to get that out of the way so I don’t spend the whole day cumming on your back seat” she tells me candidly as she’s hopping out of bed.

After a quick shower I pack my side of the panniers while River rustles up two lattes. We depart my place in the dark, fill the other pannier with her things, then depart her place shortly after sunrise, heading north. After a few miles we reach the intersection of Highway 1 and Highway 156 in Castroville. My plan is to continue on the 156 toward the 5 freeway, as it is the fastest route, but River taps me on the shoulder and motions for me to turn north on Highway 1 so we can follow the coast through Santa Cruz and Half Moon Bay toward San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge. I happily oblige and tell myself inside my helmet to just go where River guides us for the duration of the trip.

“I’ll drive, you navigate.”

Highway 1 follows the arc of the northern shore of Monterey Bay, a barren windswept road surrounded by sand dunes. First light is glinting bright white on the breaking waves, the sea a deep royal azure. The warmth of the engine radiates into our wind chilled thighs as the sun warms our backs. I feel like leftover lasagna just pulled from the microwave. Half of me is baking, the other half still frozen.

The road bends inland at Moss Landing and the landscape is dominated by agriculture, with mile after mile of neatly manicured fields of berries on both sides of the road. By the time we reach Santa Cruz, the highway is surrounded by heavy forests of redwoods.

Just southwest of San Francisco, in Pacifica, we pass a railroad caboose that has been converted into a coffee shop, and the tug on my jacket tells me that it is too tempting to pass up. So I make a u-turn and we take our first break of the morning to enjoy a coffee and share a blueberry scone. The crisp cool Northern California morning air keeps us huddled closely together. River’s hands wrap around her latte so she can absorb as much warmth into her body as possible. She closes her eyes, lets out a big shiver, then turns to take in the sun.

The earthy coastal redwoods give way to the oddly pastel colored Outer Sunset neighborhood of San Francisco, a sprawling and brutal tessellated grid of wind battered buildings shaded only by the overhead rats nest of power and telephone lines. I contemplate how soul destroying it must be to grow up in a neighborhood where the only thing resembling a tree is a telephone pole. We are consumed by the tunnel under the Presidio, when we emerge we’re immediately on the Golden Gate Bridge.

Crossing the Golden Gate on a motorcycle is as surreal an experience you can have without being in a virtual reality headset or an IMAX cinema. Towering 746 feet above San Francisco bay, the Golden Gate bridge is one of the most iconic man-made structures on earth. It feels eternal, as if it has been there forever. But a young Ansel Adams actually photographed the Golden Gate, sans bridge in 1932, five years before it opened and it looked like every other coastal strait. In my opinion the Golden Gate Bridge is one of those rare instances where a man-made structure actually improves upon nature.  Frank Lloyd Wright’s “Falling Water” similarly comes to mind.

The crossing is so immersive. The bright rusted orange of the bridge is contrasted against the deep navy blue of the water and the bright blue of the sky. A sightseeing helicopter passes below us and then swoops up and around to pass below us once again close enough to see terror in the passengers’ eyes. The cables supporting the bridge tower above us and on cloudy days disappear into the heavens above. The bridge is constantly moving, so the asphalt is covered with a spiderweb of sealed cracks, and each section is separated by a metal grate. The bike vibrates against the broken pavement as we cross. Dunka-dunka-dunka-dunka-zip-zip dunka-dunka-dunka-dunka-zip-zip.

I feel River’s knees clamp down on my hips, and her hands hold me tight as we trundle across this euphorically scenic bridge. Dunka-dunka-dunka-dunka-zip-zip dunka-dunka-dunka-dunka-zip-zip the bike goes until I feel River’s body shudder in orgasm. Fearing that I might lose her off of the back, we stop on the other side at the overlook so she can regain her composure. Before long, we’re on the road again, past the big yellow seaplane in Sausalito and on toward …

[walkswithmycamera]

FRIGILIANA - a day excursion by coach from Benalmadena Costa.

The small white village of Frigiliana, in the Axarquia region of the Costa del Sol, is often described as Andalucia’s prettiest village by the tourism authority.

It's certainly very picturesque and is in a fabulous position high above the coast offering spectacular views from various vantage points.

However, it's extremely hilly and no matter which way you look at it, there are very few flat areas to walk around and probably explains why we only got around 90 minutes to explore.

Whichever way you go, you must walk up - or down.

So, like the majority of other passengers on our tour bus, we opted for the €3.50pp tourist mini-train around the village tour, which then gave us some time to explore part of the village with the mosaic pebble patterns in the footprint of the narrow streets of white houses and shops.

My video mash up of 4 different clips taken during the tourist train ride and some photographs of our own exploration afterwards, before we headed off to Nerja as our next stop.

Commentary on the mini-train is in Spanish and English.

Apologies, this is my first long video and also mixing different clips together, so forgive me if it's a bit on the unprofessional side 🫣

RESERVATION CONCERNS:

We booked online from UK in advance of our arrival in Benalmadena, (not something we usually do, but the reason will come clear in the next few paragraphs).

The cost was approximately €33pp (September 2023). The pickup was very handy though, at the bottom of the road from our hotel. Just a quick roll down the steep hill.

We were staying at the medPlaya Hotel Bali.

If you know the location, you will already be familiar with "cardiac hill" - there's at least one with this same name in every tourist resort.

BOOKING INFORMATION:

Our online reservation was made through Rubens Excursions: https://www.rubensexcursions.com/#excursion7

The tour itself is operated by: Viajes Costafrica - website link: https://costafrica.com/ but we could find no way to book with them directly and email contact proved fruitless.

Important Note: although the coach continuously showed lots of seat availability (around 53 each time we checked) - almost all of the seats were filled after our last pickup as we left Benalmadena.

We became suspicious after noticing that no seats were being booked during the days since we had started to monitor it - showing an almost empty coach.

Yet the excursion was still operating - it simply made no sense.

Therefore, we had to assume agency bookings were not automatically added to the live system, or being taken into consideration.

It was for this reason we decided to bite the bullet - and book ahead of our arrival in Benalmadena.

The excursion runs just one day per week and ours was a 10 night trip, arriving in the evening into the resort.

It meant we were left with only one weekday to visit the office, a short walk from our hotel - the Benalmadena office is closed at the weekend.

See my previous post and photos taken in the village of Frigiliana after we finished the mini-train tour here:

THANK YOU for reading and watching 🙂

If you like my YouTube content - please Subscribe!

Shell Chapman (WalksWithMyCamera) @HaveCamera_WillTravel YouTube Channel

[brewyork]

Go By Train: Four Multi-Brewery Day Trips from New York City

Sand City South in Lindenhurst

It’s getting to be that time of year where all the heat and humidity and garbage smells get to you and you just have to… get away. If you’ve got a day to kill and a hankering to visit a brewery or two, here are a quick few escapes from the city for the day, all doable by commuter rail.

Lindenhurst, Long Island

From nothing just a few years ago, Lindenhurst has become a legitimate beer destination on Long Island, and it’s just an hour by LIRR from Penn Station. The town is anchored by the spacious South Shore location of the new Sand City Brewing, the second outpost of the brewery that got its start on the North Shore in Northport. Walk north on Wellwood Avenue and you’ll find two storefront nanobreweries along the town’s main drag: 27A Brewing, a reliable spot that’s the longest-running of the town’s breweries, and Breslau Brewing, whose taproom feels like a friendly little neighborhood bar. If you’re into mead, W A Meadworks is just up the street, too. If you’re not ready to go home after all that, the outstanding Root + Branch Brewing is just one stop away in Copaigue.

Asbury Park, New Jersey

The taproom at Wild Air Beerworks in Asbury Park

Head down the shore and you’ll find a stretch of breweries along NJ Transit’s North Jersey Coast Line. Wild Air Beerworks in Asbury Park is just a short walk from the Asbury Park stop, offering an Instagram-friendly taproom with fantastic beers to boot. If you need some food, the Asbury Park Festhalle has some good grub and a house beer made by Two Ton Brewing. Head down the line one stop to Bradley Beach and you’re just a stone’s throw from the bustling Bradley Brew Project on Main Street and Little Dog Brewing Co. across the tracks in Neptune City. Best of all? You’re never more than a 15-minute walk from the beach.

Poughkeepsie, Dutchess County

Mill House Brewing Company’s brewpub

It’s admittedly a bit of a trek up to Poughkeepsie on Metro-North. But on a nice day, you can stretch your legs after the two-hour train ride on the Walkway Over the Hudson before you head uphill to decide among the city’s six (!) breweries. Mill House is its oldest, serving beers from their twenty-barrel brewery down the road in its Mill Street brewpub. King’s Court was put on the map by their two Great American Beer Festival medals, which in my experience are well-deserved. Zeus Brewing is worth checking out for the view from their rooftop bar. Blue Collar has grown to become a Poughkeepsie mainstay and has a wonderful brick-lined taproom. Obscure Oscillation specializes in Belgian-style beers and has a taproom in a residential neighborhood that’s open only on Thursdays. And while not exactly easily-walkable, Plan Bee Farm Brewery is on the outskirts of town and opens to serve their outstanding 100% New York State farm beers on Saturday and Sunday afternoons.

Riverhead, Long Island

North Fork Brewing Company’s taproom

Riverhead is equally far from the city by train as Poughkeepsie (just a little over two hours away), but equally-brewery’ed. The six breweries in this town range from the Irish-themed (Long Ireland), to the little Main Street storefront (Tradewinds), to the shiny brewpub (Peconic County Brewing), to the converted firehouse-turned-taproom (North Fork), to the beer nerd’s paradise (ubergeek), to the music-themed brewery (Twin Fork). Just don’t stay out too late — the last train back to the city is just after 9:30pm every day.

[ahallatt]

New Zealand: West Coast Wilderness Bike Trail from Greymouth to Ross

I recently spent four days biking the West Coast Wilderness trail, and, despite the classic West Coast inclement weather, I loved it. Here's a quick rundown of my journey:

Day 1: Greymouth to Kumara

Only really half day of biking to start. It wasn’t too demanding, but I had less energy at the end of the three hours (much of it stopping to read signs or look at stuff) then on the rest of the trail.

I saw a dead bumblebee on the path in front of me as I left Greymouth. It strangely affected me. As I get older I find these things harder to bear. The death of nature everywhere.

I pressed on, relying on my gut feeling to guide me when the signs disappeared. Trail markings seemed more consistent later in the trip, or maybe I became better at finding them.

The highlight of the day was the wooded section towards Kumara, where you lose the noise of the road and hear only water and bellbirds. Crossing the gorge was a treat. As was the pub at the end. We stayed in the backpackers, which was a bargain at $50 for the double room.

Day 2: Kumara to Lake Kaniere

Day 2 was a ride of over 50 km, mostly uphill. Despite the rain (my feet were wet within minutes and the rain crept in to the rest of my gear reaching all but my very core), it was my favourite day of the trip. The West Coast rainforest was stunning, with tree ferns, fun fungi, fern-lined avenues, and beautiful water races. A hare crossed my path to begin with and it seemed like a better omen.

I was guided by a shag (cormorant) flying over the lake as I came into the first shelter for a cup of tea and some River Cottage seedy slice. Excuse photo quality. My phone doesn't do well in the rain.

After my first stop there was a slow incline. Sometimes it seemed like I might be on the level, even going down, but the tea-stained streams and water races beside the track would be running in the opposite direction.

After the boardwalk the trail goes along a well formed track that has been benched to take most water off it. I was never bogged down in mud like on some trails.

There is a high water route for when the weirs run too high to cycle through. I asked some electric bikers going the other way whether the weirs were open and they said they were but that they were too high for them to go through. Perhaps because they have batteries and electrics that would not do well in the mid calf water I found. It was fun to pedal through them on a pushbike.

When I finally arrived at Lake Kaniere, I was grateful for the drying room and hot shower at the homestay. The host, Grant, ran a tight ship, with a list of things to do to keep the place comfortable, including removing our muddy gear and keeping everything closed against the West Coast sandflies.

Day 3: Lake Kaniere to Hokitika

Day 3 started with a refreshing swim in the lake, with only a diving duck (scaup) for company. Along the way, I saw a South Island tomtit perched on a small tree, and we stared at each other for a few moments before it flew away.

The ride through the beautiful forest was easy and then I was going along the Hokitika river and back to civilisation with a jolt. A huge mass of pipes, concrete and steel embodies the talent Fontera has to make money from turning clean water into milk and dirty run off, before using coal to dry it into powder to ship overseas. But it is jobs and money. We need better jobs and more than just money. Clean rivers would be nice.

Day 4: Hokitika to Ross

The final morning of my trip was spent exploring Hokitika, a town that has suffered through the Covid pandemic and is struggling to get back on its feet now that tourists have returned. I was relieved to leave the shiny, happy and sterile campground (which was recently a natural swamp that was drained and filled in with gravel - isn’t it weird that we call areas like this “reclaimed”?) and get back into nature, although it took some time to do so.

I went over the concrete bridge that has been part of the taming of this wild river mouth and coast which used to wreck a ship every 10 days in the 1860s at the height of the Gold Rush. A time when men who often couldn't swim took their chances to get rich quick. That that gold rush mentality endures in New Zealand. Gold gave way to coal and sheep and now cows.

Then I rode past the golf course before taking a welcome turn into more regenerating nature reserve, escaping into dense thickets of new growth forest being greeted by the sound of bellbirds with traffic muffled, but the pounding surf breaking through.

Bellbirds sang me through the tunnel of trees that were near the wetland of Mahinipua reserve which ends at a weird plantation of tall trees,

Coming off the tramway track I was annoyed at myself to find I missed the turn for the picnic track to the lake — the only way to see it on this trail. A missed opportunity to swim as well. I didn't want to backtrack and add 4 km to the journey. So onward and out on the tarmac for a fairly easy ride for a few kilometres on a wide road with vehicles giving me a decent amount of room. A kea crossed my path as I cycled toward the Totara Lagoon.

It's a long boring slog along the old rail line to Ross. More than a dozen kilometres with nothing but track and flax for most of it. If I did the trail again I would probably stop at Treetops.

There was a brief reprieve in the monotony when flaxes gave way to show the wider expanse of the lagoon and the hills beyond. It didn’t last long before the flaxes closed back in again. When I got to the end of the rail line I should have headed to the finish but instead I turned right and had a welcome swim at Ross beach. If you stay at its very expensive campground you do have the advantage of being right by the beach. But I turned back to rejoin my other half at another pub before we headed on towards home.

Overall I enjoyed the trail immensely and recommend it as one of the best off road rides in New Zealand. My favourite sections were those that were in nature. Even if they were in the rain.