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its-real · 5 years ago

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The Lonely Lady of the Freezing Cold - Part I

Part II: https://its-rael.tumblr.com/post/617517935168290816/the-lonely-lady-of-the-freezing-cold-part-ii

-you can also read this story on Ao3. Technology is mean and wont let me insert the link, but you can find it there under the same title-

Snow fell in bigger volumes than Moomintroll had ever seen in his life, and despite their large size the snow-clumps drifted leisurely down to settle on the ever growing white blanket that covered the grounds at Hogwarts. Moomintroll was unhappy, the snow had been coming down unceasingly for the past few days, and more often than not it came down far heavier as part of a storm. He desperately wanted to go outside, would too if it weren't so cold, but instead he was stuck at a window, watching and wishing.

“Oh do cheer up Moomintroll,” said his friend Little My, who was as her name suggests so small she could probably fit inside a large watermelon, “it’s Christmas Eve!”

“I suppose so,” said Moomintroll gloomily.

Little My crossed her arms, “I’ve made you the most wonderful gift, you know.”

“That's very nice of you,” said Moomintroll, still looking outside with longing, “I wish it would clear up.”

“The weather does what it wants, so there’s no point in moping if moping doesn’t help,” Little My pointed out, and then hopped off the windowsill where she was perched, “if you’re not going to do something then I will.”

Only a moment later it seemed (the moment was really about half an hour) someone tapped on his shoulder.

“Hello again Little My,” sighed Moomintroll, “I was thinking, maybe I could go outside, if only for a little bit. I’d just have to put on several layers.”

“Little My?” Said the voice of someone who was definitely not Little My. In fact, it was the voice of Moomintroll’s favorite person in the whole world (next to his parents), whose name was Snufkin.

“I came across Little My not long ago, she told me that she couldn’t deal with your miserable-guts any longer and that I’d better go and cheer you up,” Snufkin said.

“Of course she did,” sighed Moomintroll.

Snufkin sat on the windowsill where Little My had previously stood, “it is frustrating having to stay pent up in doors for so long,” he said, “but it’s for our own safety I guess. It may be quiet now but they say the next blizzard is going to be even more terrible than the last, so there’s no point in being upset if you can't change that.”

“That's what Little My said,” Moomintroll groaned, and he propped his head up with his arm.

“Well she’s right,” Snufkin shrugged, then he added, “I’ll leave if you want.”

“No, that's alright,” said Moomintroll.

The two friends mulled in gloomy yet companionable silence for a bit, but then Snufkin had an idea. He was so glad about the idea that he grabbed Moomintroll’s hand, pulled him from the window and twirled him in a circle.

“Why did you do that?” Asked Moomintroll.

“We’re in a castle!” He laughed, and for good measure twirled his friend in a circle again, “a magical castle! There must be so much of it that we haven’t seen, and full of secrets too! Remember that secret passage you found on accident earlier this year? I bet theres tonnes like that and we could be the first to discover them.”

“I suppose,” said Moomintroll, trying to sound dubious, but really he had cheered up a little.

“Come on then!” Snufkin said.

And so Moomintroll let himself be dragged along the corridor at a run, without any care of direction, and within a few minutes they were well and truly lost.

“Well my friend Moomintroll, we really should have kept a note of where we were headed,” said Snufkin, giving up after they had ended up in the same corridor thrice and lying down on a bench.

“You’re right,” agreed Moomintroll, sitting down at the end of the bench, “but I thought I’d know Hogwarts well enough to get us un-lost.”

Moomintroll did know Hogwarts very well, for he had lived close at hand all of his life, although he was better acquainted with the grounds than the castle because only this year had he resided inside it. Before now he had only visited in the summer holidays when there were no students, or on the occasion his mother needed an extra pair of hands for a job.

All of a sudden out of nowhere, someone piped up.

“You two wouldn’t happen to be lost now would you?” They said in a very small voice.

“But of course!” Snufkin said, very much relieved, but when he looked around to find the owner of the voice there was no one there. He sat up, “my apologies, but where are you?”

A little dog hopped down the staircase. It wasn’t your average little dog, not because it wore a neat coat and a pointy hat, and not because it spoke either (although that was odd in itself). The little dog was Sorry-oo, and he was a ghost.

“I’m right here my good sir,” said Sorry-oo in his meek little voice.

Snufkin stood, and Moomintroll did the same.

“Say, how would we get to the great hall from here?” Asked Snufkin.

Sorry-oo nodded once and gave them a detailed set of directions that left the two friends in quite a muddle.

“Could you repeat that please?” Moomintroll requested.

“I think it might be better if you were to lead the way,” suggested Snufkin, “unless you have another place to be that is.”

“No Sir, it would be my pleasure! Follow on!” Sorry-oo said gaily, and they followed the little ghost through corridors and passageways and secret staircases until they found themselves right outside the great hall, just in time for dinner!

“Thank you very much,” said Moomintroll to Sorry-oo.

Snufkin nodded, “yes, if it weren’t for you then we wouldn’t have been able to find our way back!”

Sorry-oo just bowed, and trotted off through a near wall.

Being the school holidays, most of the students at Hogwarts were at home with their families. Therefore upon entrance the great hall was remarkably empty. It wasn’t bare though, Christmas decorations covered the walls and there were several glittering Christmas trees, each touched with magic so that their ornaments did spectacular things. Moomintroll and Snufkin took a seat with their friends Little My, Sniff and Snorkmaiden who were already eating.

“Where have you two been?” Asked Little My.

“We got lost,” said Moomintroll matter-of-factly.

Little My frowned, “well you missed the beginning of dinner.”

“If we hadn’t been saved by a ghost then we would have missed dinner entirely!” Snufkin said, and Sniff looked at him with wide eyes imploring him to tell them the story. Sadly for Sniff, something else was on Snufkin’s mind, “Snorkmaiden, where is The Snork?” He asked.

“He said he wasn’t hungry,” answered Snorkmaiden, and a little grumpily she added, “he said that there is no time to eat while he is so busy. Codswallop, I said to him, it’s Christmas Eve! But he paid no mind so I came by myself.”

Moomintroll tried to give her comfort, “you know The Snork, I think he enjoys being so busy all the time.”

“But one must eat,” said Little My on her fourth helping.

“One must eat,” agreed Sniff, who was on his second.

Little My grinned. She was thinking about the wonderful presents she had ready to give to her friends the next day and became excited.

“Why are you eating so fast Little My?” Moomintroll asked.

“The sooner I go to bed the sooner I will wake up tomorrow and it will be Christmas time,” she said simply.

Moomintroll’s forehead wrinkled, “if it’s anything like the last few nights you won't be able to fall asleep at all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but then again I can sleep through anything,” Little My smirked.

“Lucky you,” grumbled Moomintroll, “the wind moans so loudly every night and rattles the windows, and sometimes there is thunder and lighting, or there's a big crash because a tree has fallen down.”

“I reckon it’s not just the wind moaning,” said Snufkin conspiratorially.

“Oh?” Pipped the others.

“I think that it's The Groke,” he said.

“The Groke?” Sniff exclaimed with a waver in his voice, “that sounds scary!”

“The Groke is a monster,” told Snufkin with a spooky air, “I have heard stories that she lives deep within the forbidden forest in a cave, and comes out to wander in the grounds for a few nights when the weather gets coldest in the middle of Winter. At this time there’s always a terrible storm, and she moans and laments, and they say everything she touches freezes.”

By now Sniff was trembling and spluttering, “that doesn’t s-sound very n-n-n-nice.”

“She must be extra upset this year to be out for so long,” said Snufkin.

“Do you think she’ll go away?” Asked Snorkmaiden, who slept well enough but all the same didn’t like falling asleep to the night sounds.

“I don’t know,” said Snufkin.

“Well I hope that she does,” huffed Moomintroll, “and if she doesn’t then I’m going to go to bed and see if I can get to sleep before she starts up again.” And he left for the Gryffindor common room.

“I’m going to bed as well,” announced Little My, and went off in the same direction, where after a bit she would change direction towards the Ravenclaw common room.

Snufkin, Sniff and Snorkmaiden left soon afterwards.

That night Moomintroll didn’t get to sleep in time, and even if he had The Groke would have woken him up anyway. She was extra loud that night, and Moomintroll lay under his five layers of blankets tossing and turning and getting more and more frustrated until he decided that tomorrow night he would go and confront the monster once and for all. Funnily enough after deciding to do so he slept peacefully for a few hours.

The next morning Moomintroll awoke yawning, and was very unhappy.

‘That blasted Groke!’ Thought he, and was even more determined to confront the monster that night. He got out of bed, stretched, got dressed, gathered a heap of presents and hurried on down to meet with his friends. The great hall was empty aside from Little My, who was already eating.

“You look tired,” she said in between mouthfuls, “merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” yawned Moomintroll in greeting, and sat down beside her feeling less grumpy. You can’t stay angry forever, especially not on such a happy occasion as this.

Sniff was the last one to arrive, and once they had finished their breakfasts they each took out their heaps of presents and laid them out on the bit of table in front of them (except for Snufkin of course, who didn’t have any money to buy presents and preferred it that way).

“I’ll go first,” Little My decided, for it was oh so difficult to wait any longer, and she jumped up on the table with excitement. She bounded over to Sniff first and gave him a pretty little bag that tinkled with what sounded like money, which is also what everyone else got him. Next she gave the Snork a book of muggle science, Snorkmaiden a mirror that Little My had enchanted to give compliments to whomever looks into it, Snufkin a wooden flute that she had carved herself (Moomintroll kicked himself then, why hadn��t he thought of that?) and lastly Moomintroll a jar with a pretty blue flame inside.

“The flame is everlasting and will never be put out,” said Little My proudly, “I conjured it.”

Moomintroll’s anger dissipated, “thank you very much Little My,” he said in awe.

Little My smirked.

Next Sniff gave them all a little figure of themselves and Moomintroll joked that Little My was almost the same size as her miniature lookalike. Then Snorkmaiden gave them all a box of homemade chocolate that warmed the whole body with a single bite. Moomintroll gave his gifts next; the Snork was gifted a very fancy pen, the Snorkmaiden a rose that sang (she blushed and put it behind her ear), the ceremonial money for Sniff, a big ol’ hat for Snufkin which he pulled down over his eyes to everyone’s delight, and for Little My a professional looking poster of her playing quidditch in her house team. The Snork was next, but he told them not to open his presents yet, because he didn’t want to see anybody’s reaction.

“I’m sorry that I don't have anything to give anyone,” apologised Snufkin, “I could play my mouth-organ if you like.”

The table cheered as he produced his coveted harmonica and when he played everyone had a splendid time dancing, Little My doing so atop the table and humming and singing along loudly. Later Moomintroll opened his present from the Snork and found inside it a miniature lifelike dragon that moved and chirped and blew fire. He told the Snorkmaiden to give her brother his thanks.

Although the cheer of Christmas was in the air Moomintroll couldn’t help but notice that the snow storm worsened outside. By now everyone was quite tired from dancing (some of the other students and even some teachers had joined them and they all had a jolly good time), so they sat around talking amiably.

“I’m going to confront The Groke,” said Moomintroll to Snufkin.

“Really?” Snufkin asked in surprise.

Moomintroll nodded his head, “tonight.”

“That could be dangerous, it gets even colder in the night time and The Groke might try to freeze you if you aren’t already frozen by the time you find her,” warned Snufkin, “besides going out at night is against the rules.”

“Pooh to the rules, this is the only way anyone will get any sleep. If you look around you can see how everyone is so tired,” said Moomintroll crossly.

Snufkin wasn’t going to stop Moomintroll from going, he wouldn’t dream of it, but that didn’t stop him from feeling concerned. “Do you have a plan?” He asked.

“No, not really,” Moomintroll replied, “but I’ll wear plenty of layers of warm clothes and I’ll bring my wand and a lantern.”

“You aren’t worried?” Snufkin questioned further, “The Groke is pretty terrifying.”

Moomintroll looked thoughtful, “I suppose not. In fact, I feel in my belly that everything is going to go fine.”

“If you say so,” Snufkin said, although he secretly thought the feeling in Moomintroll’s stomach was more likely fluttering butterflies, and they changed conversation topic.

That night, Moomintroll bundled up in warm clothes, around seven layers, and put on two pairs of gloves, his scarf, and his thick woolly hat. He stuffed his wand in his pocket and made to leave, but then he remembered that he ought to bring a lantern. As He searched the room for one, his eyes instead rested on the flickering blue flame Little My had given him, the everlasting one.

‘That’ll do fine,’ he thought to himself, and took it from where he had placed it on his bedside table. He snuck very quietly, as quietly as he possibly could (which was extraordinary so, for the paw of a Moomin is like the paw of a cat) out of the dormitory, through many a corridor, down many a staircase, through the secret passage he had found earlier that year by accident, and outside. The cold was bitter and the wind would have buffeted him about had it not been for the deep snow keeping his feet in place. Determined he trudged out, blue flame aloft, in search of The Groke.

It was frightfully dark even with a light source and Moomintroll found that if he didn’t focus very hard he would get lost. After what seemed like hours of searching, he stopped and looked behind him at the looming castle that only made itself known by little twinkles of light few and far between. In this moment he felt a chill creeping towards him like no chill he had ever felt before. The temperature grew cooler, if that's even possible, and Moomintroll sensed the presence of melancholy behind him. He twisted around in its direction so fast he almost fell over, and, holding up the blue flame, found himself facing a looming shadow with big eyes, a big mouth and an even bigger nose. Moomintroll admitted to himself that maybe he was a bit scared by now, not that he would ever tell anyone.

“Are you The Groke?” he called after regaining his voice.

The mass stopped moving, “hnnnnngh,” it said, and nodded.

He called again, “why do you keep coming here?”

The Groke looked past Moomintroll to the castle and sighed.

“Why?” He yelled.

Slowly, The Groke looked back at him and frowned. Looking into her eyes, if only for a second, Moomintroll felt the sadness that dwelt there, the longing and the loneliness that she brought with her wherever she went. He realised then why she wandered the grounds.

“It must be very lonely, being you,” he said.

The Groke nodded and sighed again.

“That's why you come here, to feel closer to others,” Moomintroll said, “I think I understand. But when you come and you make all of that noise in the night nobody gets any sleep.”

“Nnnnhgh,” said The Groke, and she hung her head.

“It mustn’t be nice to be cold all of the time either,” he went on.

She nodded, still staring morosely at the snow.

Moomintroll searched his mind for any way to solve The Grokes problems. He couldn’t solve the loneliness because anyone who is near her for too long would freeze to death, but the cold… he couldn’t just make a fire, that would go out. He went to put his hand on his chin like he’d seen his papa do when he was thinking hard but his hand was already occupied by the blue flame.

‘The blue flame!’ thought Moomintroll, ‘the flame that Little My said would never go out!’

It was the perfect solution. Little My wouldn’t be very happy about him giving it away but then he must do so for the greater good, and he didn’t need to tell Little My anything anyway.

“O Groke!” Moomintroll shouted, “how would you like this here flame as a Christmas present? Then will you go away?”

The Groke looked at it long, and then she smiled and said “hhnnn!” ecstatically.

Moomintroll held it up as high as he could, then she grasped the jar in her hands. She took it, but not before accidentally touching Moomintroll’s hand and freezing him solid!

#moomin #tanoshii moomin ikka #moominvalley #moomintroll #moomin fanfic #snufkin #the groke #little my #sniff #snorkmaiden #moomin fanart #moomin au #the snork #sorry-oo #hogwarts au

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voidlitmoon · 5 years ago

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I Would Have Waited Forever if You Needed, But I Would Always Be There for You - part two!

Please note!!!!

This is part two of part 4! Tumblr was being mean with the lengths. Know this is not very long because most of it is in the other post

Read part one first, then come back! Theres a link at the end of that post to get back here

Alright, read it? Here we go!

Part 4 Part 5

Everything was dark, his eyes too heavy to lift. He felt dry at least, any water previously on him dried away. Why was he dry?

He attempted to open his eyes, only a sliver of light making its way in before they were shut once again, a groan leaving his mouth. It was so. Bright. And white, why was everything white?

Those claws were white too.

Virgil's eyes snapped open, only to squint at the sudden light. A pain induced whine fell out of his mouth as the Eevee tried to stand, only to slip and fall back down. He remembered something about Thomas, did he find him? Memories scrambled to piece together, everything a jumbled mess.

A woman suddenly approach with a Audino, somewhat familiar from a long ago memory with.. a girl. Her.

More pieces snapped together as the Audino and Nurse Joy check him over, before finally the pokemon took the carts handle, Joy walking over to a speaker system speaking a few words while pressing a button, before making her way to the double doors and opening them.

Virgil glanced around tiredly as light filtered to a more calm amount, subconsciously mapping out the waiting room they had entered. The Nurse tried to pet his head, probably in comfort, but confusion made Virgil flinch away. Nurse Joy just smiled and assured it was ok, his trainer was on his way. Trainer?

A scrambling of feet caused him to turn towards the source, only to see rainbow as several beings hugged him, a human holding him close with three bodies of fur leaning against his back.

"V-Virgil, you ok" the trainer muttered quietly, and all the puzzle pieces snapped back into place.

He leaned into Thomas, eyes slightly watering from joy and a smidge of pain. The trainer somehow recognized it, instead picking the small Eevee close into his arms, giving Virgil the first good look at himself and the room.

It was a basic waiting room, a soft cushiony bench rapping along the wall below a long window, small tables set around the center, the same comfy looking chairs scattering between. No sun shone directly outside the window, yet it clearly wasn't close to sunrise or sunset, nearing midday if the Eevee guessed.

A white bandage wrapped around his right leg, his chest still feeling tired from the bout of sickness. To weak after the battle protecting Thomas' sleeping place, a night to exhausted to move out of direct pouring rain did not do wonders for one's health.

He barely heard Thomas thank the nurse, instead watching Patton and Logan climb onto the trainer's shoulders looking worriedly down. He nearly jumped when Roman leapt next to him in Thomas' arms, curling around his body.

"Thank Arceus your ok" Roman said, giving a small lick to the other's head, jumbling his mind once more for a moment "I mean, we knew you would be ok, we were just really worried" Virgil didn't speak, he just curled his face into the other Eevee's chest. Was Roman always this warm? They had touched before, but always with another or near a source of heat. With the smaller always being cold, Roman was basically a lit indoor fireplace as a snow storm raged outside. Summer and Winter clashing together.

Thomas was suddenly moving, or he had been? The dark furred Eevee had been too distracted to notice. He heard a door open and close, feeling Thomas fall backwards onto a bed.

"Today's a lazy day, just for you bud" Thomas scratched Virgil's ear as he talked, Patton and Logan joining the cuddle pile of fur.

For him. For him. For him. No sense of anger in his voice for putting them back a day, no triggers Virgil should feel guilt. Just.. joy. Joy that the Eevee was with him, just existing in the same area, not even a caught pokemon.

Virgil blinked at the last thought, contently closing his violet eyes and burrowing into soft, loving friends. Family.

'Maybe' his mind supplied, before slipping into slumber 'maybe he was ready to change that last fact.'

______________________________

Thomas watched Virgil test his paw against the ground, flicking his tail in joy as a sign of no pain.

It had been a couple of days, the gang using that time as a supply run (with Logan's assistance of course) and time to relax, comforting Virgil it was about time they took a break anyways.

Yet, their time was up as adventures sat in the waiting, ready to be taken on.

After thanking Nurse Joy and her pokemon one last time, the five made their way out all on foot. Virgil stuck close to Thomas' leg, but that was fine. The Eevee most likely wasn't used to walking normal paced through a crowned, probably sticking to shadows and wilderness.

Finally they broke from the last market stand, path beneath turning more gravely as they continued. After some time trees broke fields of grass, trunks comfortably rapping the group in a blanket of nature. Thomas glanced down from the scenery to Virgil, still sticking close to the trainer, calm dark fur rippling along his body.

"Virgil? You ok bud?" Thomas asked curiously, slowing slightly but continued walking. Virgil blinked up before brushing against the trainer's leg and stopped, sitting as to hide nervousness only showing in shaking paws, which he hid within fur fluff.

Thomas frowned concerned, stopping and kneeling before the Eevee "do you not feel safe?" The Eevee blinked, confused on how to respond.

"Ok that was a weird question to ask when you can only nod or shake you head" Thomas looked around for a moment before making his way to a fallen tree, a few Shroomish scuttling out of his way as the human sat down. The four pokemon followed, three giving the last a curious look.

"Alright, do you feel safe right now?" He asked, getting a nod in return. Thomas hummed, thinking of more filler questions, one that had been crowding his mind for months being pushed forward.

"Does.. the idea of straying from us right now.. make you feel unsafe?" Virgil thought before tilting his head in a 'yes and no' kind of fashion.

Thomas bit his tongue, before "do you not want to leave, uh right now?" The last bit was forced on, tongue tied as the words struggled from his mouth. Virgil hesitated before chirping something, ears flattening as if in some sorts of embarrassment and he kneaded the earth below. The Eevees around him perked up, something in Thomas' soul getting closer to another.

"Virgil" he asked, surprise and joy coating his voice in layers. The small pokemon looked up, concern lacing his eyes. Thomas thought for a moment, before the reworded line escaped his mouth in a rush.

"V, do you want to stay?" Anything could happen at that moment Thomas realized as his anxiety spiked. The Eevee could shake his head no, he could just run off and never be seen again. Oh Arceus they could never see Virgil, their fifth puzzle piece again and it was all his fault-

Thomas in that split moment though, remembered one thing. That even if Virgil did leave, he was still a piece of their puzzle. Still family. He looked up, awaiting Virgil's answer.

Chocolate brown and violet eyes were locked onto each other as a new piece finally attached to their puzzle. All with a single nod.

______________________________

Thomas lay in his sleeping bag, all four of his teammates pokeballs off to the side as they lay across his body. Tonight they only flopped across his chest, a certain dark furred Eevee in the center.

All four slept soundly and Thomas chuckled, reaching a hand up to scratch behind a purring Virgil's ear.

"You know" he whispered to the night "I'm so glad you joined us today. You didn't have to but" he took a deep breath and smiled, Roman's nose nuzzling deeper into Virgil's fur "I'll always be honest with you

You could have never been caught, and still be family. You always will be family. Honestly..

I would have waited forever if you needed, but I would always be there for you. We love you V."

#sander sides #pokemon #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #tw mention of fight #tw mention of claws #cuddling #catching pokemon #prinxiety #prinxiety hints #my writing #Teaming the Pieces Together

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ursoself-satisfying · 6 years ago

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Thank God It’s Christmas

yes!! soft 80′s deaky tho ::”””)))))

John Deacon x F!Reader, NSFW

A/N: based on some requests!!!! 7.7k words, took me longer than i thought it would yet its still rushed?? kinda wanted to sit on it but i also wanted it out on as close to Christmas as possible so here she is!!! not as fluffy as i originally wanted or intended but i might do a soft sequel idk im not much for sequels but we will seeeeeeee,,,,, also rip my generic ass holiday title,,,,,, so anyway happy boxing day!!!!!!!

Warnings: NSFW, no intercourse just blowjobs at Fred’s house, s w a l l o w i n g, kinda kinky?? language and commitment, big sub!john here guys sorry,,, theres fluff at the very beginning and BONUS at the end is fluff if u wanna skip to it!!

playlist!!! vvv

https://open.spotify.com/user/criceloni/playlist/7CoaeajkS0DyoCcJvimPQH?si=CG5La36PQzmLpyLInPlr-Q

Deaky’s foot tapped against the cold tile floor at a rapid pace, twice that of the holiday music echoing through the spacious building. Anxious energy circulated through his veins for no reason he could figure yet. The masses of people around him, strangers mostly, in uncomfortably revealing ensembles pushed against him as he did his best to stand his ground in the entryway of the lavish house. Gilded accents adorned the perimeter of the ceiling, reflected the sparkle of the excessive fairy lights wrapped around every inanimate object within five feet of an electrical outlet. The colors varied from string to string and right then the bassist was standing beside a particularly bright bundle of rainbow bulbs that were strung halfway up the staircase banister. Perhaps it was the blinking and flashing of the decor and the poppers or the loud noises of the party horns and fireworks- He knew that wasn’t what was causing this dry feeling like his blood had turned to sand and he was weighed down where he stood. A tingly sort of feeling encased him in the form of holiday anxiety. It was the emotional tinsel of holiday maladies, properly named as such because of the irritating and hazardous tendencies of it.

John tried to distract himself from his attempted denial of having such an issue by focusing on what he was even there for. The party? Well, that part was for Fred and the rest of the boys. They all came together, having brought their subsequent other halves to enjoy the celebration with them. His other half, however, was late and that sent him into a natural flurry of worry. Why hadn’t she arrived yet? Where was she? Was she ok? Had something happened and he didn’t know? Deaky wasn’t a weak-willed man by any means, nor did he lack confidence, but he did have an excess of love which unfortunately came with a side order of fear. How early in the relationship was too early to say ‘I love you’, he wondered, or perhaps say something more. The first bridge had been overcome probably quicker than it should have. From the moment he saw her, he knew he loved her, he would say, but now it was time to show that. He wanted to solidify this feeling and ask her, after all that she’d done for him, if she’d be willing to spend the rest of their lives together. That’s what he’d been wanting to say to [Y/N] all month but had been putting it off for a special evening together. He’d had one planned, actually, but the party had taken precedence over his private arrangements. No one had meant to throw off his plans, no one had known he’d even had plans. Of course, he couldn’t say no to those shining round eyes as Roger had really insisted the two of them attend. [Y/N] was all for it, loving the idea of spending the holidays with the boys without considering what kind of parties it was that Freddie threw.

It had started out nice enough, to be quite honest, but of course, every plus one had a plus one and the door was eternally open at the singer’s shiny new home so the “little get together”, as Freddie had so fondly called it, quickly passed capacity. A drag queen emerged from the hall beside John carrying a man in a leotard with a pink glitter beard. He subsequently held an entire bottle of red wine which he graciously poured down the queen’s front. It dripped and stained both of them as the one in the dress stumbled against the doorway with a booming laugh, caught themselves, then continued through the foyer. John had jumped out of the way, aware that they weren’t aware and if he didn’t move himself he would be move. He watched the two continue to trip and stumble through the tight, growing crowds of colorful fabrics and feathers, always somehow managing to stay upright. Quite a feat to be partying, or doing anything really, in studded 12-inch heels, Deaky thought, though he’d seen far stranger things in this house.

A tap on his shoulder caught him off guard and he turned quickly, only to come nose to nose with the exact person he’d been longing for. [Y/N] stumbled back at the man’s sudden spin and surprised look. She laughed loudly at him as she watched his entire face light up at the sight of her. His smile was soft and buttery and the crinkling at the corners of his eyes was like rays of sunlight breaking through the leaves of a snow-covered tree. It took a millisecond for her to take in all his features, soft nose and chin and cheeks framed cushiony lips and a gap-toothed smile that seemed to melt all the cold of the outside off your shivering bones. John disregarded her reverent moment of appreciation, as he was ignorant of it occurring at all, and engulfed the woman in a tight embrace.

She was glowing when he saw her, nose and lips pink and chapped and skin tight from the winter freeze she’d walked through. She sniffled to keep the snot from dripping drown her upper lip and her dry eyes watered from the environment. He thought she looked absolutely beautiful. “I hadn’t even noticed you’d come in,” he said, lips pressed against the side of her stiff face. His fluffy mop of hair filled in the space between their heads as his hands dug into the padded layers of the heavy overcoat she wore. His warm breath was hot and startling on the frigid hairs on the back of [Y/N]’s neck. Her nose was pink and numb from the temperatures beyond the threshold of the mansion, but she could still smell the contrasting remnants of booze and aftershave in her lover’s hair as well as soaked into his holiday sweater. Her arms were stiff by her sides, gloves in one hand and a large canvas bag in the other. Though the heat of his body against hers was a warm relief, the freeze had yet to wash from her. Upon noticing the lack of movement coming from his companion, the excited brunette let go, slipping his palms over her cold fingers instead.

“I’m sorry, John, I didn’t mean to surprise you!” She laughed and pecked a quick kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Hold on and help me with this, would you?” Straight to business, she handed him the oversized bag in her hand. It was painful for her to let go of him, but she did so nevertheless and proceeded to rid herself of the layers of warmth she wore. Beneath the furs and sweaters, her form was revealed and the poor musician beside her nearly dropped the bag he held. Every part of her was stunning and every time she showed himself to her he was just as awestruck as the first time. Every time since then he’s prayed the fit of his jeans would act as a functional restraint for the way she made him feel.

She’d hung her knits and overcoats in the closet beneath the stairs. When she’d opened the closet door, she was welcomed by a face full of sequence and an explosion of dangerous looking leather straps. Carefully, she placed her items near the back where they were least likely to be contaminated y feathers, glitter, or other transferable fabrics. “Feel a bit out of place dressed so smartly,” she started smoothing out the front of her garment, “didn’t know the dress code was Carnivale showgirl otherwise I would have dressed accordingly.” With a small laugh, she turned to John who stood open mouthed and unresponsive. “John?”

A solid pat on the arm should have shaken him from his trance. His eyes had caught hers, twinkling in the festive lights she stood by, all the colors becoming a kaleidoscope over her irises and he lost himself in it. [Y/N] was used to this by now, this dazed look he would have sometimes. She recognized it as one of utter love and didn’t mind the price for such a moment was repeating her side of the conversation. Chuckling, she softly hit him again. The man made a confused noise, like the whine of a puppy, and his lips trembled for a moment before forming a sheepish grin. He cocked his head to the side apologetically. “Sorry, I- I did it again, didn’t I?” His laugh was warm and familiar. “What were saying, love?” His raised brows urged her to continue.

The closet door closed with a quiet clack and [Y/N] went to take her bag from him. “Nothing,- Nothing, just- I look a bit out of place, don’t I?” She leaned close to him as she said this, scrunching up her nose and smiling as she observed the loitering guests who passed through the halls around them, every item they wore caught the light in blinding ways.

John looked back at his partner and bit his bottom lip with an amused smile, “I think you look lovely.”

[Y/N] tore her attention from the gentleman strolling past them, clad completely, completely, in leather with only a hole where his mouth should be. The sweet face beside her was a stark contrast to her surroundings and she melted a little upon meeting his eyes which never strayed from her, regardless of what may have been hovering around them. “You always say that.”

She breathed a thankful sigh and Deaky eagerly responded, “Well, that’s because it’s always true. You do always look lovely.” She shot him a sly grin, eyes squinted playfully as she shook her head at him.

[Y/N] shyly turned her gaze to the floor, “John-” A burst of noise shook them both, which was saying something for how loud and busy the party already was. A gaggle of girls, quite obviously drunk and giggling, all clad in jockey uniforms, moved through the halls in a huddle. They carried an array of mismatched sporting equipment above their heads and at the end of each one was tied a bough of holly and mistletoe.

“It’s the holly brigade!” One of the guests announced and all the girls cheered and laughed at their name being called.

“No, no! I thought we were the mistletoe militia!” A member of the group shouted.

“The December draft!” Another called out. The rest of the assembled group groaned at the name, little spouts of ‘That’s the worst one yet!’ and ‘Not this again!’ were heard. “Oh, kiss my smooth fuckin’ ass, Bernice!”

“Fuck you, Priscilla! Maybe I will! Maybe that’s what I’m here to do, Goddamnit!”

The quiet couple turned to each and blinked, not surprised but still amused. Apparently, one of the gaggle had sniffed out the two of them and made it their mission to change their position. “Looks like we have some victims!” A redhead exclaimed, moving her hockey stick above John’s head, the festive garnishes hanging from it dangling in front of his nose and swaying often to hit him in the face. He swatted at them defeatedly with a weak smile. The crowds around them cheered at the earlier announcement and began to chant, ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ John was red in the face, no, deeper than just red. He was the same color as the beetroots Freddie would send them from his garden. The man quickly scanned the crowds, a shaky breath leaving his lips. His fingers walked up his neck to fiddle with his ear, something he subconsciously did when he was flustered. [Y/N] smiled at the gesture, seeing it out of the corner of her eye.

The entire population of the small room focused on the pair of them. The weight of expectation and anticipation mixed to form a bittersweet scent rolling over them. Noses nearly touching now, sharing breaths, [Y/N] leaned in close to her lover, staring into his soft eyes with half hooded ones of her own. “What do you say, John? Give the people what they want?” After a hesitant nod and a shy, but mischievous smile from him, [Y/N] pushed against him eagerly. The audience roared and laughed, whoops and hollers not enough to break the two of you apart. A female voice above the loud whistles and commanded the team of matchmakers to move on.

Lost in each other, John held his girl by her arms, squeezing her tightly. Her still purple fingernails dug into his shoulders as their lips moved in sync. Not that the collision had started at all chaste, but by now it was most certainly the opposite. He tasted like fruity champagne and something salty, she thought, hands snaking up the back of his neck. She could picture him before she’d arrived, securing a place by the snack table, claiming the cheese and crackers she tasted now. Their tongues intertwined sloppily and they rocked back and forth with the pull and push of their want for one another. His large hands cradled her head and kept them together, her hair falling over his long fingers like waves of light.

The heavy sack she carried on her shoulder slipped to her elbow and ripped them apart. “Oh-!” Catching her sides, John laughed. “Sorry-! Sorry,” She chuckled, pulling her ominously full bag up back up her arm. Dragging the back of her hand across her mouth, she cleaned the shared saliva off her face then reached forward to wipe the corners of her partner’s mouth. God, he was cute when he was flustered. His chest rose and fell quickly, blush not fading. His gaze fell down her body. She followed suit and took in his whole form, aware of the subtle bulge below his waistline.

His swollen lips parted and he began to speak quietly, “You’re-”

“You’re too much for me, John Richard Deacon.” She interrupted with a wink. The man mentioned laughed cautiously and pulled away as his cheek was pinched by his pucker lipped lover. “Why don’t you take us to the boys then, hm?” She re-adjusted her bulging bag on her shoulder, looking petite in comparison to it. It reminded John of a child on their first day of school, packs full of far more supplies than they need.

He glanced through the doorway leading to the moonlit foyer, overwhelmed with characters. Somewhere through there, he knew, was the rest of the band. Did he really want to risk the trip? Venture into the great party beyond? “They’re, well,” he nodded towards the most crowded room, “last I knew, they were somewhere in there.”

“Oh,” [Y/N] paused a moment, then straightened up and took a deep breath, inhaling her courage. She looked to her companion and nodded firmly. “If we don’t make it out,” her hand drifted to stroke John’s lost face dramatically, “tell the kids I love them.” A stoic expression stared back at the man before he broke and laughed, rolling his eyes.

“You think I’d let anything happen you?” He cooed, faux offense filtered through the phrase. He pressed a barely tangible kiss to her cheek before taking her hand from his face and lacing his fingers between his instead. “Come on then, Miss Desmond,” with a laugh, he pulled her behind him and they entered the Coliseum.

Though she’d been giggling just seconds before, the mood was irrevocably shifted to something much more chaotic and disruptive as soon as they crossed the threshold from the entryway to the rest of the house. Not to say the mood was darker, because the bright colors and happy faces around them would deny any sadness ever existed there, but the air was heavier. Maybe it was the influx of bodies, making it noticeably warmer around them, or perhaps it was the “party favors” that the guests had brought themselves.

Streamers, though nicely strung at one point, now looked haphazardly flung about the chandelier and rafters. Against the white of the ceiling and walls, the streamers looked almost like the northern lights, all pastel and waving in the wind of the tall open windows. Freddie always did have good tastes, though lavish, [Y/N] thought as the couple squeezed between the grand piano, suffocated in fairy lights and hard to look at, and a large man in a wrestler’s costume. It smelled awfully of alcohol and sweat. By the end of the night, she was sure she would reek of salt and sickly sweet candies. Clinging tightly to the full bag at her side, the girl was jostled around unceremoniously as the crowd bounced to the beat of whatever pop song blared through the speakers.

John looked back over his shoulder at his tail when his hand got a violent squeeze. He was greeted by an accompanying look of terror, cradling her luggage in front of her. Her wide eyes bore into his and, though her discomfort was nothing to laugh at, her wide, thin-lipped, teeth-baring grimace was. The curly haired man couldn't help but smile, full of sympathy for her state. He turned again to face forward as he foraged through the forest of party goers and hopped a few times to gain some sense of direction. When they’d entered, he’d spotted the cluster of chairs and pillows he’d been lounging on earlier and headed that way. There was no counting on the boys to still be there, but he had no other guesses. Glancing back again, he decided his friend needed a break from the journey and pulled off from the mass of bodies, heading up the stairs to the significantly emptier second floor.

Nearly tripping over the first step, [Y/N] rushed up the carpeted stairs behind her boyfriend to the secondary location. There was a couple midway through a hot make-out session in one corner and another very obviously feeling each other up leaning against the banister. The two took refuge in the small hall leading to the bathroom. The party thumped beneath them, physically able to feel the celebration shaking up through the floor. [Y/N] took one last look back at the chaos they’d just left, grateful to have done so. In the pause, she finally let the tension roll off her and she dropped her tote bag at her feet. “Thanks for getting me out,” she started, a bit out of breath. “So, are they up here, do you think?” Turning back to John, she raised her eyebrows in doubt. “John!”

The bassist snapped his head to face the voice calling him, a deep blush spreading from his nose to his ears. Knowing he’d turned from where the 2 men pressed firmly against each, so much so they nearly toppled over the second story railing, [Y/N] didn’t say anything. Judging from his face and a speedy glance at his pants, she could reasonably assume he was a little bit, how to say, frustrated. “Sorry, what-”

“Nothing,” she said softly, assuring without outright saying that it was ok and he didn’t need to be embarrassed. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Their days together were often interrupted by an impatient or emotional Deaky, crimson-faced and needy. He never said anything, his lover was always the on to initiate it when she could tell it was necessary. Poor boy would suffer through it if she wasn’t with such an observant partner. She stepped to the side and looked around the corners. After scanning their surroundings, concluding there were approximately 5 couples engaging in varying activities upstairs (2 in the halls, 2 in the bedrooms, and 1 in the bathroom), she came to the conclusion that then might be an opportune time to help out little Deaky. “Hey, babe,” she started carefully, “Would you maybe wanna duck into this room here?” She nodded at the door they’d been parked in front of in the small hall. “We got lucky, there are no lewd noises coming from this one.”

While his lover wiggled her eyebrows at him, John adjusted his pants and grimaced. Few words had been spoken since they’d changed locations. “Are you sure?” He knew exactly what she was doing. She always did this, she took care of him. He regretted how guilty he felt whenever these situations occurred and she was the one with the initiative to resolve it. God, he couldn’t help that every time he looked at her he was just overcome with want. She had that effect on men or, well, maybe just him, he hoped. It was just the way she stood and carried herself, the way she moved with such grace and promise. He’d seen her far too many times in far too many intimate ways to not have fallen completely in love with every breath she took. Her voice alone drove him mad and she took full advantage of that when she wanted to.

Too often though she didn’t have to do anything for him to get excited. This occasionally caused problems for them, particularly in instances much like the one they were in just then. The two of them would be making small talk, at a party or, or just hanging out with the boys but it would be a social time and an inconvenient one for them to slip away. [Y/N] always noticed, though, as, though the boy was ignorant of it, she never took her eyes off him just as he never did her. His discomfort was like a searchlight for her, obvious and urgent. Too polite to say anything in public and too afraid of messing it up, John never excused himself. [Y/N] always seemed to know how to handle it, though the rest of the band would usually figure out why they’d run off anyway.

There were no friends or guests up here to trick and an empty room right in front of them. It was easy and convenient, “And the boys aren’t looking for us, are they?” [Y/N] cocked her head in question, convincing her other half to take this time to let off some steam. “I want a moment with you,” she spoke in a lower voice now, pulling him towards her by hooking her fingers in the waist of his skin-tight jeans. Their chests collided and John caught himself on her shoulder. Gripping her upper arms tightly, he suppressed a groan, the strain against his erection becoming too much. Her voice, her movement, her command- He was weak, but only for her.

Inches separating them, the brunette leaned forward and was blessed with her scent, that of a garden after a heavy rain, cinnamon sticks, and the familiar backseat of a London cab. “I suppose there’s no harm,” he replied with a sly smile, breathing a soft laugh on her cheek. For a few seconds, he had the opportunity to revel in her presence and in his fragile state it almost pushed him over the edge. Distracted, he stumbled forwards after the woman when she pushed back at the door behind her, slipping in when it swung open. They disconnected as she shut the door after the musician. This gave them a chance to examine the room of their chosen connection.

It looked like Fred’s room to them. The walls were littered with framed photos of the singer himself and old Hollywood actresses. A heart-shaped vanity made [Y/N] laugh but the real giveaway was the king-sized canopy bed in the center of the room. Fur throws covered the upper half of the mattress and the colors of the entire room were coordinated reds and pinks. Romantic, she thought, and very Freddie. “Deaky, take note, I want my life to look like this room.” Heading straight for the lavish looking bed, [Y/N] swept away the sheer curtains surrounding it and dramatically fell onto the plush covers. They engulfed her and she was lost in this sea of rose-colored satins, curling like a cat and twisting through the sheets with purrs and mewls to accompany her graceful stretching.

As the only other person in the room, Deaky was there to witness it all. His attention strayed from the florally patterned trinket he examined on the dresser. She was glowing, shining through the sheer folds hanging from the canopy obstructing his view. True to theme, the way she curled and twisted on the bed reminded John of the same stars hung on the walls. She’d look perfectly fit in a black and white melodrama. He imagined her sprawled across the bed in shadows, donning a silk slip, lace trim slowly sliding up her thigh as she turned, straps falling from her shoulders as she moved- Deaky was suddenly very uncomfortable. His focus locked on the woman on the mattress and his feet took him quickly to stand over her, intention weighing down his every footstep.

Laughing to herself quietly as she buried her face in the velvet throw pillow beside her, [Y/N] didn’t notice the arrival of her lover now planted between her dangling knees. “I’m not sure how entirely appropriate it is to be, uh,” he paused to laugh a bit but as she turned to face him, now aware of his presence and position standing between her legs- His breath hitched. He regretted using the word ‘glowing’ to describe what she was, it simply wasn’t enough. It was like watching a miracle happening before him every time that sultry filter shone across her face. Darkened irises peaking through long, low lashes as she licked her plump lips waiting for him to continue, it all drove him crazy. “How appropriate,” he tried again to get his thought out in broken words, “to be, uh, fucking- fucking on the host’s bed.”

[Y/N] sat up slowly arching her back and pulling her shoulders back in a stretch, her hands making electric contact with the thighs in front of her. She swore she could almost hear the buzzing of the sudden energy surging between the two of them. Her fingertips squeezed his leg, nails digging in lightly to the denim holding him together. A shuddering breath fell from his lips upon the shoulders of the woman below him and it washed over her. She was baptized by his sound crowning her, filling her with the final drops of motivation she needed, knowing this feeling of accomplishment from making him lose control of his basic instincts like this would be rewarded to her tenfold after their rendezvous. The pads of her slim fingers traipsed up the front of his legs and caught the hem of his tight Christmas coverall, tugging on it for his attention, then letting the same clingy digits hook into the belt loops around his waist to yank him closer.

John was hypnotized by the beauty that belonged to the powerhouse before him, lost in the maze of a hazy halo that seemed to always be floating around her. He was pulled from the dreamy vision by a tug on his shirt and his hips being pulled forward. The heat of his lover’s gaze when he lowered his eyes to meet hers bore through him and he could feel his face burning, even more, somehow he was sure he was turning even redder. Her face was level to his crotch and slowly she leaned to press her cheek to it. The obvious bulge was warm and sensitive through the garment as she put her face to it.

Images of her raced through John’s mind when she did this and they were enough to make a whore blush. Some were memories from past coitus, some fantasies he’d been too ashamed to share, but all were absolutely irreverent. One of her with her lips locked around the base of his cock, she was kneeling on a bed much like she was at the present. Her eyes were low and full of lust, dilated pupils making them shades darker than usual. Her makeup was smeared, lipstick was strewn halfway across her cheek and her mascara leaking down her face as black tinted tears rolled down the sides of her face. Her brows were upturned tiredly, past her first orgasm and nearing her second. Her nose was pink and soft, hitting against his pubic hair every time he was hilted in her mouth. He was practically there, feeling the tightness of being deep in her throat, hot and wet and so pleasurable. In the back of his memory, he could hear her muffled gags, feel them vibrating around his cock, sending ripples of ecstasy through him until he came. Her eyes would roll back and the gurgling guttural noise that came from the depth of her stomach as thick ropes of cum flooded her passage. Neck thick with his length, she was overwhelmed, eyes rolling back white, breathing quickening. She had been face fucked within an inch of her life and he had loved every second of it. Her reactions could put him over without effort- her looks, her sounds, every way she felt when she was convulsing around him, milking him for all he was worth.

A cutting snap echoed through the room as [Y/N] had pulled back the elastic hem of his underwear and let it hit the skin across his hip bones. It broke John from the fantasy he’d fallen into. The sting of the snap hung on the red line it left behind. When he finally got over the shock of it, his eyes met [Y/N]’s. She wore a bemused smile cocked her head with a laugh. “Where’d you go there, rocketman?” At this point, she’d undone his pants and began slipping them down his legs. Slowly, her hands caressed the exposed skin, starting at the slivers shown at the tops of his thighs.

As soon as the jean had inched past the end of his length, his arousal was set loose and sprung upward. The stretchy fabric of his of his undergarment of choice wasn’t nearly enough to hold him in position. His erection strained against the cotton he wore, only stopping it from hitting his stomach and instead having it curve outward. The girl was eye level with the outlet of his want. It was throbbing and stuck straight out, aimed at her, darker at the tip, wet because of his leaking pre-cum. She licked her lips at the appetizing sight and all her lips were wet, dripping in excitement for the feast she faced.

“I, um,” he was going to explain, though reluctantly, where his mind had wandered but was interrupted by his grateful release. A wavering moan played like music to his lover’s ears. Relief engulfed him, he thought, but then realized it was simply the absence of pain and now he was left with undefined arousal and need. A pinch on the bottom of his buttcheek reminded him to continue his story, but when he tried to speak, it wasn’t words that came out.

‘Squeak’ is the best word to describe the sound he made. [Y/N] responded with a pleased squeak of her own and, now that his lover torso was sufficiently accessible, went on to slip her fingers between the fabric and the soft skin at his hips. She didn’t mind the tighty-whiteys to be quite honest. It fit his personality.

“What were you saying, love?” Sparkling eyes searched for his as eager fingers hooked through the legs of his last cover, pulling them slowly down. The waistband slid down his shaft and pushed it down until it was catapulted by the final slip of grey elastic. The slap was quiet and muffled as his slick head collided with the rough knit of his seasonal wear. [Y/N] bit her lip at the reveal and looked up at the even more relieved Deaky. Anticipation spread across his features as he waited to be touched, forgetting what she’d just asked him. She’d completely forgotten as well, dismissing it for the option of palming at the sensitive skin of the cock grandly standing before her, feeling the pulse of his love on the patterns of her hands.

“Oh,” John did his best to taper his breathing from the heavy gasps moments before, “please, please, [Y/N]-” The hand slid up his dick and when it came down, his erection was wrapped in hot digits. Playing down his erect length like scaled on a piano, she rubbed, bringing down the clear stick from his head to lubricate him. She squeezed an unseemly grunt from him and he had to lean against the bedpost to stay upright. His knuckles turned white from the desperate grip he held on the dark wooden pole, the pole of his own finally touched. [Y/N] shifted as her man’s knees fell against the tall mattress, picking up the pace with her hand, then adding another.

“Do you want me to use my mouth?” She nodded and spoke delicately. She held one hand at the base of his cock, threading her fingers through the forest above his manhood and using her thumb to stroke the start of his balls. Deaky’s eyes drifted to her falsely innocent face, struggling with forming a comprehensive answer. His mouth hung open with unspoken want and he swallowed his words before he could throw them back up in the form of a weak gurgle that translated to ‘yes’. “Ok, sweetie, because you asked.” Bittersweet tones flew to his ears while a sudden wet warmth dripped down from the tip of his shaft.

Soft lips enveloped his head and it continued down. Her tongue swirled around the end of his length, rough texture tasting all the sweet excitement Deaky couldn’t hold back. Two hot intakes of breath was all the girl could hear as she took more and more of his erection in her mouth. She was suctioned to his fifth appendage and felt every ripple that made up the skin around his muscle. He could feel her tongue tracing every pulsing vein and he hit the back of her throat, sporadically thrusting into the hot, slick cavern of her mouth. By now his hand had reached to the back of her head and pushed into her, a fistful of her hair knotted in his hand. The bunch he held acted as a rein when he face fucked his lover with increasing need.

[Y/N] ground down into the mattress she sunk into, pushing for her soaking pussy to get some minimum contact. Her hips rolled and pressed down as best she could, sure she was wetting the bed with how aroused she was. One had was gripping Deaky’s bare ass and the other followed her spit covered lips at a quickened bouncing pace. Every time she felt the back of her throat hit the tip of his cock, lips sucking at his base, nose tickled by pubes and teeth barely brushing his blood vessels. She got nostrils full of his scent, musky and hot, like the first hot day after a rain in the city. He hilted himself in her and gasped so grossly and desperately, she was sure it could be heard outside the room.

When John looked down, it was too much like his fantasy. “God, fuck- please,” he begged, “swallow.” Her pleading, glistening eyes narrowed and the wave of pressure that rolled down his shaft from her tightening tongue brought him to the edge. Curses and dirty, profane things spilled out from his normally clean lips, seeping through the cage of his teeth in an eye-rolling ecstasy. The flood of sounds that drove through [Y/N]’s ears brought her an accomplished feeling until the stream of hot white love filled her cavity. She grunted through her filling mouth, pushing down the thick liquid from her lover. She gulped it down gutturally, hot wave running down her chest as it traveled. Her hands were tightly holding to his sides, hiking up the thick sweater still handing off his thin form.

Like an hourglass filling with sand, Deaky felt pin like tingles roll through him from his toes to his head as he came. A shiver ran down his spine and every muscle from his softening erection out tensed. He twitched in the wet velvet sleeve of his girlfriend’s throat. Knowing that every spurt shot down the tunnels and to her stomach got him off even more. It was disgusting from a blatant perspective, but fuck, it was so hot. She took it all from him so willingly after his ask. The stills of his best memories sped across his mind and it nearly perfectly matched his view with her hair pulled back in his balled hand and longs long, shining from smeared excitement left across her face. Nothing could make the situation less arousing but there came a point when he had nothing left to give.

Lips ‘o’ shaped and eyes shut, to [Y/N] he was a vision of pure beauty. His hair floated above him in a soft halo and he was angelic. No light shone off him, no reflection of holy images resembled his position, but he was still an angel. His release had come quick but it was no surprise to his partner. Downing the last of his salty high, [Y/N] continued to move and milk his dick for the last of his cum, final drop on her tongue mixing with her swishing spit and following suit as she swallowed one last time. Her mouth popped off his end and she wiped away the mess around the orifice with her sleeve, immediately regretting doing so afterward. Deaky hovered above her, breathing heavily, unevenly. She could almost see the hot puffs leaving his mouth like a little dragon, the cold of the season not entirely being kept out of the home but the both of them too hot and bothered to notice. Her own breathing was strangled and could be heard through the room.

A rush of feeling finally returned to the man standing and he lowered his gaze to meet that of his partner’s. She smirked at first, but it quickly turned to a tired laugh as she moved to attempt to fix her unseemly hair. “Thank you,” he said quietly. He gingerly tucked his limp extension back into his stretched underwear and sat down limply beside her, not bothering to pull up his tight pants at all. [Y/N] placed a cold, damp hand on his hot thigh. They turned to each other and smiled softly. Her free hand went to cradle the side of his face and press her lips against his, pulling him to her. They remained connected while she lifted herself from her kneel and scooted closer to him. One hand slid up his thigh while they beat their lips against one another in sync. It took all her self control not to encourage the growing ache echoing from her core as she pushed hard against the man beside her. She tasted like hot skin, like sweat and salt and underneath were subtle hints of holiday chocolates and candied apples, but overall, she tasted like him. He could feel himself on her lips and he pulled away. She looked dazed and a bit disappointed at the sudden lack of contact. “I don’t think it’s the best idea to get this started again,” he said, though his eyes hung on her parted, swollen lips, “not here or really right now-” He saw the way her thighs clenched when her squeezed his slender fingers around her forearm. His neglect drove guilt through his bones and he tilted his head slightly with a softened look. “I’m so sorry, love-” It was more than a whisper, but only barely rising above the low level when she kissed him again.

This time it was softer still. Her lips on his, curled in a forgiving smile and warm but only for a moment. “It’s Christmas, Johnny, a time for giving,” she spoke quietly against his lips.

“No, it’s not, I wanted to ask you something tonight- It was supposed to be about you- I had plans-” He stuttered.

“Save them.” In her eyes, he could see some knowing shine, some reflection of himself to calm him down from his rising worry. She broke the eye contact with a sideways glance and continued with a sweet smile. “Anyway, I’m flattered it takes so little to get you up for me,” her hand ghosted over crotch before retracting and smoothing over the tops of her legs, “but sometimes, to be honest, I think it’s more the tightness of your jeans than it is me that gets you so-” Pausing to stand, she continued, “eager.” With a wink, she extended a hand to help the bassist up off the deeply plush bed. He smiled back sheepishly and accepted her assistance, struggling to pull himself up. Once he did, though, he waddled a step forward then pulled the very fitted pants back up, making himself decent again.

[Y/N] started a leisurely walk back to the door, signaling John to follow. He did so and they shared the same thought, embracing one another in open arms. [Y/N] hummed against the heavily festive knit shoulder of her lover. “So, do you think we should go find the boys now? I brought gifts and I’d like ‘em to see them before they pass out or are drunk beyond belief.” She breathed a laugh and her hot breath his John’s ear. He shivered then pulled back with a laugh.

“Is that what’s in that great, hulking bag of yours?”

“Well, what else? I’ll get it and we can-” She reached for the door and swung it open, only to find an empty space where her sack had once been. Deaky thought he could feel the air chill upon the woman’s realization. “MY FUCKING GIFTS-”

Somewhere in that mansion at that very moment, there was a group very drunk, very loud girls with very persuasive sports gear wandering around and delivering presents to every physically engaging couple they could find, starting by handing a signed Cheap Trick album to an incoherent drag queen nursing an oversized martini. There was now a who man wore a new sweater covered in cats and a woman had a coordinated set of sunglasses all on at the same time, meaning 6 pairs lined up on top of one another, wandering around as well. With a distant crash, a very nice custom pair of clogs was thrown through a high window and oblivious to this all was a couple, upstairs, in the host’s bedroom.

BONUS:

The light shining through the open window woke the woman up first, but the sleep was shaken from her when she reached out for another warm body to comfort her shivering one. The thin sheets were not enough to block out the cold over her nakedness. Rolling over with a grumble, she looked at the clock. 10 A.M. on December 26th. Christmas was over and everyone was better off for it. So what if no one had gotten any gifts intended for them? They’d had each other last night and that was more than enough for her, though the sting of losing her work still hung on her ego. She tried not to think about it. Instead, she sat up and scanned the room for her boyfriend, upset by his absence. Then from around the corner, he came, clad only in fresh boxers and contrastingly the same soiled sweater from the night before. He was blurry n her sleep crowded vision and she questioned him as she rubbed her eyes. “Deaky, baby, what have you got there?” Her words trailed off into a yawn and she stretched, eyes closed, though she could feel the mattress shift under her lover’s applied weight.

“What I wanted to ask you- Well, what I mean to say- What I wanted to ask you about last night- Oh, well,” he laughed softly, sounding like he’d only just woken up as well. The woman in bed blinked slowly at him and leaned her body towards his heat, hands finding his arm. The man watched her lovingly, starry-eyed, fingers fiddling with his ear. He took one smaller hand in his large ones and placed a cold circle to her palm. “This isn’t really how I wanted to do it, but then I thought it didn’t matter how I did it- I realized I just needed to get it done.” Slowly, the same realization washed over her face and she stared at the shining round object in her hand, suddenly very awake. “I had planned to do it last night, but, well,” he chuckled and his gaze fell shyly for a moment before he was back to intently observing his lover’s reactions, “it was a bit crazy and things got in the way and I just wanted to say-”

Tears welled in the girl’s eyes, pulling them away from the modest diamond ring that sat cold in her cradled hands. When he looked at her, tears came flooding to his eyes, too. He laughed through the rolling drops, wiping them away quickly and smiling wide with crinkling eyes. “I love you, [Y/N] hopefully Deacon,” he enunciated the future name, “and I would be-” Chocking on a sob, he continued, “Would you please do me the grand pleasure of becoming my wife?”

Large dollops of tears fell freely from both sets of eyes now and wet sobs filled the room. She laughed lightly and nodded, hesitantly at first then eagerly. “Yes, yes!” A guffaw escaped her and her future husband snorted in response. They were both laughing now, crying and laughing sitting on their bed in the late morning, Boxing Day. From the outside, it may have seemed like an odd or even uncomfortable scene, but then they threw their arms around each other, no need to communicate with any verbal expression. They knew one another inside and out, maybe more than they knew themselves. She melted into him and held his curly hair close to her. She breathed hotly and sniffled. “This is a wonderful Christmas-”

“It’s Boxing Day, darling,” he whispered with a gentle laugh.

“I love you so much, John Deacon.”

#queen #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bohrhap #she has a voice!!!#new blog #john deacon #joe mazzello #fanfic #reader insert #joe mazzello x reader #requests are open #deaky #queen x reader #john deacon x reader #requested #requests #happy christmas yall

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reesewestonarchive · 6 years ago

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chapter eight / rem belongs to @forlornraven / masterpost / mature content

“…where would you go?”

Rem’s voice is a stark difference from the mixtape playing through frankensteined speakers from Rem’s Walkman. Nakoa opens his eyes, peers at Rem’s face—calm, pleased. “Hm?”

Rem dozes on his side of the bed, a hand out between them in an aborted attempt at touching Nakoa’s stomach. His words are slurred, though, and there’s a tired, distant look in his eye when he lifts his gaze to Nakoa.

Not a second later, his eyes are closed again. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

Loaded question. Nakoa thinks there are plenty of places he’d like to see, plenty of places he could live, but would any of it matter if Rem weren’t with him? “Dunno. Hawaii. Or… European countryside, maybe.” Or Russia, if it weren’t so fucking cold. That’s the thing about the midwest that Nakoa doesn’t miss—the fucking winters. “Some place warm, probably.”

“Bahamas,” Rem says. “You’re miserable when you’re cold.”

“I have bad circulation,” Nakoa says, staring at the ceiling. “Can’t help it.”

Rem lifts his hand, pinches the skin at Nakoa’s hips gently, and says, “‘Cause you’re so fucking skinny. I bruise you when we fuck.”

“You’re one to talk.” Nakoa draws his fingers across thumb-shaped bruises along his own hips. A gentle stir of desire blooms in his stomach—maybe he can give Rem a matching set later. “What about you?”

“What about me?” He burrows closer, presses his head against Nakoa’s neck. He sighs.

“Where would you go, if you could go anywhere?”

“What’s wrong with right here?” Rem drops an arm around Nakoa’s waist. “Mm. Maybe…” He sighs; his breath tickles Nakoa’s chest. He mumbles a response, but Nakoa doesn’t hear it, doesn’t ask for him to repeat it.

Instead, he hums along to Rem’s mixtape. Rem didn’t say it, and Nakoa’s not sure if it’s on purpose, but Nakoa’s since sussed out that the songs are love songs.

For a guy that can’t verbalize the word, Rem’s really fucking good at saying it.

There are plenty of unanswered questions—if anyone’s chasing them, if it’s Michael or Rem’s bad decisions. If it’s… something else. Some asshole on their tail for being as open. Nakoa knows the attitude, knows whatever this is between them makes other people angry, disgusted.

He also doesn’t give a shit. Anyone’d be hard pressed to find someone Rem wouldn’t fight.

In the room, with Rem wrapped around him, basking in the glow of sex, Nakoa forgets about all that. Forgets that there’s a world outside the motel, a world outside of Rem and himself and the bed they’re lying on, in the dark with The Cure playing softly in the background.

Nakoa tests the words on his lips again; soft, against Rem’s hair. I love you. He mouths along with the lyrics for a verse, then hums. Rem curls closer, a pleased noise escaping his throat.

A whisper when Nakoa says, “I love you,” his voice barely louder than the music. Rem says nothing, his breathing even in sleep.

Nakoa lets him rest.

In the cold, misty morning, they pack up from the hotel overlooking the ocean, and Rem uses the last of his own money on a pack of cigarettes. Nakoa steals one from Rem’s lips, ignores his squawk of disagreement, and says, “Where to?”

Rem sighs, stares down at the map. “Fuck if I know.”

Nakoa remembers his mother—tries not to; the thought of her still at home leaves his chest tight—and how she would always say that the journey means as much as the destination. They don’t have the money to go much farther, and soon, the midwest is going to be covered in snow. Soon enough, anyway.

Nakoa thinks of the Grand Canyon, of Yellowstone, of Niagara Falls. Of ghost towns and abandoned houses, amusement parks and mountains and the Atlantic Coast. He thinks he’d follow Rem to hell—if he asked.

“Might as well hit all the stops,” Rem says. “Right?”

Nakoa watches his brow crease in thought. He doesn’t want to, but he says, “Pretty soon we won’t have money for food. Eating out’s fucking expensive.”

A glint sparkles in Rem’s eyes as he pulls the cigarette from his lips, smoke exhaling with each word, “That’s not true. I eat you out all the time.”

“Mm. Think you’re pretty fucking clever, don’t you?”

Rem shrugs, tugs Nakoa against him by his belt loops. “Sometimes. Hey—about the money thing.” He raises an eyebrow, grin wide across his lips, and says, “We could rob a bank.”

Yeah, right. Nakoa has a difficult time imagining that. “Or scare small children.” He shoves his knuckles against Rem’s ribs. “Give me your lunch money, punk.”

Thoughtfully, Rem asks, “Ever thought about porn?”

Nakoa doesn’t say the only person he wants to fuck is Rem. Instead, he says, “With your jealous streak, yeah fucking right.”

Rem scowls, but there’s a layer of mischief underneath. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Yeah?” Nakoa licks his lips, then says, “All right, cool. I’ll go get dicked down by some big fucker with a selfish attitude to match yours.” He makes a show of peering around the parking lot. “What kind of job do you think I can get around here? Or is that something I need to go to Portland for?”

Rem makes a noise in his throat, tugs Nakoa back against him, grips Nakoa’s wrists in his own. “Fuck no. You’re—” He sighs. “Fine. You win.”

“Oh, yeah? What’d I win?”

“I’d offer myself up as prize, if I was worth anything.” He squints, plucks Nakoa’s sunglasses from atop Nakoa’s head, and puts them on. Nakoa almost days, “Don’t sell yourself short,” but Rem continues with, “Blowjob?”

“Tsk,” Nakoa says. “Like I don’t get those from you on the regular anyway.” He smiles, lopsided and pleased. “What else you got for me?”

But Rem’s attention has shifted, from Nakoa to something across the street. His skin is white, fear-lined, and there’s a Nakoa frowns, tries to turn back to see it, but Rem’s grip is tight and he won’t let Nakoa move.

“Could—” Rem clears his throat, looks back at Nakoa and smiles. “—let’s get on the road, hey?”

He still doesn’t let Nakoa turn back to see what he was looking at, holds Nakoa’s hands together.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Nakoa asks. He shakes out of Rem’s grip, turns, and— “Oh, fuck—”

He can’t get to the van quick enough. Rem, somehow, is already inside when Nakoa finally shuts the door behind him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know!” Rem jams the key into the ignition, turns it—the van stalls. “Fuck!”

His heart beats, hard, fast, in his chest. “Rem,” Nakoa says, still staring at the old, beat-up Bronco sitting across the street, at the guy sitting outside of it.

Michael.

“How’d he find us?” Rem mutters. “I didn’t think—”

The van roars to life—for a split second before stalling again. Nakoa’s heart climbs his throat, and he feels like he’s going to throw up.

But the van’s not starting, and Michael’s moving forward, now, towards the car. Nakoa moves through the van, out through the back. “I’ll find you,” Nakoa says, “later, okay? Just—I’ll find you. When we lose him—”

And he goes. Out the back door, and he books it, as soon as he hits the asphalt. Rem yells his name, but Nakoa goes anyway, down the parking lot and through the alley towards the boardwalk, where maybe, fucking maybe, he can get away.

He hopes, stupidly, that Michael doesn’t go after Rem instead, that he follows Nakoa. Rem’s already in too deep into Nakoa’s bullshit, and—

Someone stands at the end of the alleyway, blocking his escape, so he turns back around, stumbles over his own feet into one of the buildings. Breath catches in his chest, terror holding him tight as he stares ahead, at Rem, held in his father’s grip.

“You leave a messy trail, Nakoa.” Michael’s voice is quiet, calm, and Nakoa hears footsteps behind him, encroaching on his space, unsurprised when he feels the cold metal of a gun press against his neck. “Nice to see you again.”

“Let him—” Nakoa says, but the gun presses against his neck, harder, cuts him off, and he swallows. Waits.

“Rude to interrupt your father.” Michael, after a beat, does release Rem—only to send him reeling against the brick with a fist to his stomach. “Tell me, Nakoa. Did you think I would let you leave?”

Nakoa says nothing, eyes trained on Rem. Michael sighs, and, as Rem is bent over, coughing, knees him in the stomach. This time, Rem goes down. “Answer me.”

Yes; Nakoa figured, it’s been long enough since he heard about the secrets, since he’s been involved in any of Michael’s work; he should have been safe. He should have been fucking safe. And if it weren’t for Michael knowing someone fucking everywhere, a network of I-know-a-guy, Nakoa would have been.

He should have convinced Rem to fly out of the country. Maybe remote Russia isn’t so bad.

“No,” he lies, because Michael shouldn’t want to waste resources, not time or money, on Nakoa. He steps forward, ignoring Rem behind him, coughing.

Michael’s taller than he is, though not by much; Nakoa slouches. Rem still towers over him.

Rem could take him, if he was smart about it.

“I thought I was clear,” Michael says. “You are to stay with me. This is what we do, Nakoa. I can’t have my only son disappear, after all, can I? Even if he is a miserable excuse for one.”

Rem stumbles to his feet, croaks out a, “Hey, asshole—” before Michael turns, gun still in hand, and Nakoa can’t turn away fast enough, waiting for the sound of a gunshot that doesn’t come.

Instead, Michael winds up and slams the butt of the pistol into Rem’s head, turning back before Rem has even hit the ground. Blood surfaces from A gas on Rem’s forehead immediately, runs down his face, and…

Nakoa watches Rem, tunnel visioned. Is he okay. Is he okay there’s a lot of blood already and his chest is rising and falling but is it too much? Not enough—

“Can someone take that one back to the car,” Michael asks, “handcuff him and put him in the trunk?”

It’s not a request. But Nakoa still says, “He needs help. You—”

“Shut up.”

“He could be—”

“Easier if he is,” Michael says. “I’d rather not have to cut off his attempts at a Disney rescue. You are mine, you know. No other man you throw yourself will change that fact.” Michael pulls Nakoa’s chin up, forces him to look Michael in the eye. “It’s best for you at home. You keep poor company.”

Nakoa keeps poor company. That’s almost laughable. “Pot calling the kettle,” Nakoa says. “I promise I won’t say shit, okay? For fuck’s sake, Rem doesn’t even know.”

He wonders maybe if Michael knows that, or if he doesn’t care. If his sole concern is of Nakoa giving out pieces of Michael’s secrets, or if it’s…

Nakoa swallows. Waits.

Michael stares at him, expression blank, before he says, “You know, Nakoa. You haven’t proven yourself very trustworthy. You ran away from home. What am I meant to think?” He steps forward. “No. I think it’s best for you to stay with me.” He glances back towards Rem, still unconscious on the ground. “Your… friend, too.”

If Michael knows, he doesn’t day anything. Instead, he snaps his fingers, and the gun at Nakoa’s throat disappears. He tries to leave, get away, grab for Rem and shake him awake, but his before he can, his wrists are bound by zip ties.

Michael retreats down the alleyway, lighting a cigarette, and Nakoa opens his mouth—unsure what he’s going to say—but doesn’t get to call after him. Instead, there’s a burst of pain at the back of his skull, and the world goes dark.

#road to nowhere au #my writing

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smutandfluffohmy · 6 years ago

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Dream Land

From: Smutandfluffohmy Character Parings: Peter Pan X Reader Warnings: Slight swearing

Prompt: “Love your imagines! Could you do a Peter Pan one where you only go to Neverland in your dreams. You and Pan are best mates, then he realizes he’s in love with you one night walking you back to your treehouse. Scared, he doesn’t let you return the next night. You prove you love him by coming to Neverland for real and fluff fluff fluff”

A/N: Hi guys! I’m starting university in two days and I’m really nervous AND I will be taking creative writing classes so hopefully if theres any change in my writing I hope its for the better and that you guys enjoy it!

Night time was your favorite time of the day because you were able to see your best friend in the entire world. The first time you went to Neverland you thought it was nothing more than a regular random dream, one to chuck with the rest of the good dreams you had. Arriving in Neverland on its own was already crazy enough at first it seemed like an empty forest with nothing but trees for miles and miles.

“Who are you and what do you want” A boy said as he appeared uncomfortably close to your face.

“Wow okay hi” You said as you took a step back from the boy as his face fell into darkness as soon as you weren't close enough to see him in the complete darkness.

“I asked you a question” The boy said taking another step closer to you as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well I’m Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N and I don’t really want anything I don't even know how I got here” You said looking up at the boy as you strained your eyes to make out any of his features.

“Stop looking at me like that” The boy said as you continues to look at him exactly how he told you not to.

“Well I can't see anything sorry that it's dark” You said getting closer to him than you already were.

“Sorry my bad” The boy said as he snapped his fingers and it was suddenly morning “Well if you don’t want anything then leave” he said turning around and walking deeper into the woods.

“Wait hold up” you said as you ran to catch up to him “what’s your name”

“Really what’s your name? That’s your question. Not how I made night turn into day” He said cocking up one of his eyebrows with the same expression he’s had since you meet him.

“I mean it’s my dream anything can happen in a dream” you said as you smiled up at him still waiting for him to answer your question.

“Well my name is Peter. Peter Pan” Peter said with a crooked smile that seemed to make his entire body crooked.

~one year later~

“Peter do you remember the first time we meet?” You said as you walked next to your best friend lightly brushing against each other.

“Umm yea a bit why” Peter said with a lie because he remembered every minute of that night because it was the first time in 10 years that anyone has ever visited Neverland, magical or not 10 years still dragged by.

“Can you please make it snow? Pretty please” You said with a big smile as you gripped his forearm looking up at him.

“Oh sure like this” Peter said as he snapped his fingers together and the nice day out turned into the sun glaring down on the both of you. “Or like this” he snapped his finger again and it started raining.

“Peter come on” You said as you playfully swatted at his arm as he let out a hearty laugh Peter ran deeper into the woods as you ran after him.

“I hope you know that I don’t usually run” you said trying to pick up speed as Peter ran ahead ducking and jumping over branches.

“Yea I can tell” Peter laughed and it rang through your ears and through the forest.Peter seemed like pure sunshine despite the gloomy weather.

“Hey don’t be rude” You yelled out as your foot got trapped in an outgrown root at started falling to the ground. You let out a shriek as you prepared yourself for the impact but instead you were greeted with a faceful of mud.Peter walking back towards you

“Are you okay” Peter said as he nugged you with his foot as you laid there with your face buried in the cold mud. Gripping a handful of mud you turned around and threw it at him.

“Yea good try loser” Peter said with his arms crossed over his chest and a cocky smile as he appeared somewhere else entirely.

“No fair I dont have magical powers” You said as you sat up as the mud soaked into your jeans.At that moment the rain stopped and you looked up to the sky then to Peter.

“Come on let's get you to your treehouse you're all muddy” Peter said as he offered you his hand to get up grabbing it you pulled him down with you. Letting out a grunt as he fell on top of you instead of next to you.

“Ow what was that for” Peter said lifting himself up as he looked down at you as he reached over and moved a strand of hair that was stuck to your mouth, leaving a smudged of mud in your mouth.

“I was trying to pull you into the mud not me get off” You said lightly shoving Peter as he got on his feet and lifted you up with him.

“Okay come on let's actually get you to your treehouse I can’t have you dying on me. Humming in agreement you and Peter walked side by side arms linked together, snapping his fingers together once more you guys were up in the tree house.

“So Peter I was thinking since tomorrow is christmas if I could maybe come spend it all day with you” You said with a big smile as you walked over to the sink to wash off all the mud.

“What about your family?” Peter asked as he flipped through one of the books you keep forgetting to take back home.

“Well my mom and dad took up a big case up in New York about this company fighting against a claim about a employee claiming neglect and blah blah long story short I told them I could be fine on my own.” You said as you combed your hair with your fingers trying to get the mud out of it.

“Why don’t you just go to New York I think you mentioned you wanted to see it someday” Peter said as he sat criss crossed on your bed looking at you as you tried your best to clean up.

“What? New York is only filled with cars and there’s never snow and they don’t really do anything for Christmas. So what do you want Peter?” You said as you turned to face him, his elbows were on his knees and his head was resting on his hands looking up at you.

“Want of what” Peter said as he tilted his head. “For christmas what do you want” You said as you went behind a curtain that divided the room to change into different clothes ones that weren't caked with mud.

“Well I don’t really know I can make anything appear so I'm not in the want for anything.” Peter said as he laid down on the bed looking up at the ceiling. Of course he wished and wanted many things but how could he tell you that he developed a crush on you when you kept insisting that he was just a dream. How could he tell you that he knew he loved you when you dared him to jump into the water or when you kept bringing him things that reminded you of him.

“Ill figure something out” You said as you came out with oversized Pajamas as you crawled into the bed and laid down next to him.

“Of course you will” Peter said as he turned to look at you. Panic started to slowly creep into Peters mind as many thought popped into his head, what if you didn't like him that way, what if you hated him, what if you told him that you hated him and left him all alone just like everyone else did.He really couldn't be left alone again and hurt not again and espasially not by you because that would crush him.

“Hey y/n maybe you should go to New York with your parents” Peter looked over at you as he looked at how your hair fell on the pillow, or how you never liked to buy clothes that fit you properly and still complained when you tripped over them.

“What? No come on I want to spend Christmas with you” You smiled as you turned to face him.

“No Y/N you can’t” Peter insisted as he sat up.

“Well why not? I don’t want you here by yourself” you wondered up at Peter as you slowly raised up from the bed.

“Because I don’t want you here and it’s time for you to leave. Why don't you just grow up and never come back” Peter shouted as he jumped out of bed and walked towards the window.

“You don’t mean that” You whispered as you walked towards him with caution feeling like you were walking on broken glass.

“Yes I do” Peter spat as he made you appear back in your own house, in your own bedroom as you let out a cry like a wounded animal. Your knees buckled and you fell to the ground repeating to yourself that he didn't mean it and that you were just going mad.

~~~~~~~~~

You woke up in the middle of the night curled up in a ball on the floor as you looked up at the ceiling as memories of last night came flooding back.

“Fuck this” you whispered to yourself as you pulled out a box with a ribbon on it from under your bed. Digging through it you found the cylinder container Peter first gave you when he explained that he and Neverland were all real. Setting the container on your desk you grabbed a backpack and starting putting movies and popcorn and anything christmas related you could think of inside. You lit up the container waiting for the shadow to appear,waiting in the dark felt like the seconds were dragging on to minutes you were about to call it off till you heard the rustling from your closet door.

“Thank you shadow” You beamed as you got ahold of the shadow and waited to arrive to Neverland once again.

Flying over Neverland you noticed it was covered in a thick layer of snow, the shadow left you inside Peter’s treehouse as you noticed that he was lying down sobbing.

“See I can’t leave you alone for one minute because you freeze Neverland and you turn into a mess” You sniffled as you both cried and laughed walking over towards Peter.

“Y/n why did you-” Peter stumbled over his words as he tried his best to wipe away all the tears but failed as more tears kept spilling out.

“No you shut up.I love how you do that thing with your eyebrow when I do or say something you think is funny. I love how you let me put flowers in your hair or how you say that pumpkins freak you out. I just love you Peter Pan you big idiot” You said as you chucked a present towards his direction.

“You love me? Really?” Peter said as he slowly got up from his bed. Nodding aggressively to Peter you let your tears come out all at once as Peter rushed to your side.

“I think I know what I want for Christmas” Peter whispered as he put a bow on top of your head. “You’re all I ever wanted and so much more”

#peter pan #Peter Pan Fanfiction #peter pan imagine #peter pan au

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rachelisnotatwork · 6 years ago

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Iceland: finally we see the light!

The worst bit about flying to Iceland, or I should probably add flying to Iceland when you are too cheap to pay for a decent airline, is that you have to dress like you are going on a solo trek to the South Pole in order to reduce the weight in your suitcase. Luckily it was quite cold the day we left but we were still glowing, red-faced, as we headed to the airport wearing snow boots, scarves, big coats, all our heaviest stuff in our hand luggage etc.

The flight there was pretty uneventful and it was a beautifully clear day, which meant for good views over the sleeping tourist by the window. When we arrived we just had to pick up our car and go.

Now by this stage in the “life of constant holidays” game, we are pretty much Hertz deluxe members which means what normally happens is we book a smart car and turn up to be upgraded to a minibus. Often we have to scale back the excesses of the upgrade because we don’t want the hassle of trying to park a giant car/fuelling up a giant car. So we were pretty confident that whilst we’d booked a tiny and shit car, that wouldn’t be what we were given. Well that smugness came to an abrupt end when we collected our tiny and shit car. Turns out that Iceland isn’t one of those free upgrade locations...and car rental is expensive here so they had no desire to give us a freebie. So we puttered into town in our tiny and shit car, a journey made far more stressful than it needed to be by the fact that Marcel’s phone is an early adopter of Brexit and the GPS locator dot on google maps only seems to work in the UK. After a lot of swearing we did make it to our surprisingly chilly airbnb. It was in a converted garage and the host had made the interesting decision not to install an extractor fan but instead keep the windows open 24/7 (in Iceland electricity is pretty much free so no one cares about their heating bills). We closed the windows because the humidity definitely wasn’t our problem.

We decided in the evening we’d go to the Pizza Restaurant we liked, so we headed into town, struggled to park (there’s a lot of snow, which means getting a tiny shit car into a space is quite hard) and skittered down the pavement in the -10c weather to the restaurant. Only to find it had stopped being a pizza joint last week and was now trialling its new menu. I wasn’t hugely keen as they didn’t have much of a vegetarian selection but Marcel didn’t want to re-park or go out walking in the cold so decided to stick with it.

I asked for a pearl barley dish, without the lamb that was supposed to be on top of it. Marcel selected their rutabaga dish. I advised him not to select this as vegetarian is always interpreted in expensive restaurants as “on a diet”. He said I was being silly and it would be a decent portion. He ended up with a palm-sized dish of pureed rutabaga with some crispy slices of it on top. Didn’t want to say “I told you so” but felt I had to, because that’s what life is like in a long-term relationship.

The next day we headed out of town after a delicious breakfast somewhere that looked like a construction site, but was actually a decent cafe. We had quite a long way to drive so we decided we’d drive straight out to Vik and lunch there. As we headed out of town, the roads got pretty icy and once the wind picked up there were drifts of snow on the road. Always reassuring to see some people digging out a 4 x 4 that’s skidded off the road when you are in a tiny 2WD city car with about 4 inches of clearance.

We had lunch in Vik, which has got much busier since the last time we were there (it has 2 places you can lunch now rather than one) and went for a quick but windy walk on the beach, before setting off again.

We wanted to visit Jökulsárlón the next day in the morning and since there’s not much in the way of accommodation in those parts we had booked into a place called the Fosshotel Glacier Lagoon. It was surprisingly busy and we had to park right the other side of the car park. In my business putting on my gloves, I completely failed to notice Marcel getting out the car and immediately falling over on the ice, but thankfully he was uninjured and thus was able to complete his usual suitcase duties.

Our room had a pretty nice window seat overlooking the view down to the sea so we snuggled up on there and read books before dinner. The only option was the hotel restaurant and I decided I didn’t want to know how much I was going to pay for dinner so refused to do the conversions. It was an...interesting meal. My starter involved so much horse radish I spent the rest of dinner constantly wanting to sneeze. We’d decided we wanted to go hang out in the sauna after dinner so were slightly impatiently waiting for the bill, which they were tardy bringing. The delay was soon compensated for though by the announcement from the staff just after we’d paid our bill that the Northern lights were visible outside. We immediately stampeded onto the balcony to see a very impressive green streak of light across the sky.

We were torn between “this could disappear any second” and “I’m really cold and I want to go get my coat” so in the end we made a mad dash for our room, layers and my camera. Maddeningly, I almost always bring my tripod with me on holiday, but this time pressed for space and weight and with so many unsuccessful trips behind us I’d not bothered. I’m not sure I’d have photographed things much better with it though, because I hadn’t really appreciated that there’s nothing really to focus on through your view finder when what you are trying to photograph is green shimmering light on a black background. I tried though.

It did look amazing. We walked out to the front of the hotel (which incidentally involved us and a bunch of other guests stampeding past the sauna full of confused nude people to get out the quickest exit) and stood in the snow, watching the green waves slowly undulate and shiver across the sky. I hadn’t really got a grasp on the speed of how they move before. Sometimes they seemed like they barely moved at all, and indeed for at least an hour there was one solid green band across the sky that didn’t really change. In other areas you had to look at the edges to notice any movement at all. But occasionally something rapid would furl and unfurl and move across the whole sky in 10-20 seconds.

The other thing that I hadn’t anticipated is that I guess the light in the atmosphere warps our perception of the light from the stars so they looked very unfamiliar. Much bluer than normal and Sirius was swapping between flashing blue and orange so rapidly we thought it was a plane for a while.

Eventually we got cold so went back inside and sat on our window seat and watched it until about midnight. After that it had got pretty dim and we decided we’d better shut the blinds or neither of us would really get any sleep.

The next morning we rose with the dawn and headed over to Jökulsárlón. We did not want to pay 28 euros a head for breakfast in our hotel and we’d vaguely remembered there was a cafe there, so we decided to eat there. I don’t remember the food options being so basic last time. It has also got considerably busier so the indoor toilet is no longer open to visitors and we had to go out to the (thankfully perfectly clean) portaloos in the car park which were absolutely freezing. Climbing up a small hillock to look over the lagoon exposed us to such lacerating winds that my phone promptly went from 98% battery to 9% from the horrors of the cold. I had to tuck it inside all my layers to keep it alive. It was beautiful though.

There are two things to see at Jökulsárlón- the lagoon where ice bergs calve and you can see cute seals pop in and out between them and the so-called Diamond Beach where the ice bergs meet the sea and often get washed up on the shore. Last time we’d driven between the two sites but with the thick snow on the ground we didn’t dare take our car to the beach and instead plodded through the deep snow and strong winds over there.

It was beautiful, especially since unlike last time the sun was out and was glittering through the ice. However the wind was so cold it burnt my face, which ended up really painful and weirdly bright red on one side by the time we returned to the car.

We had gone to Jökulsárlón quite early because we had another 5 hours drive ahead to our Airbnb in Seyðisfjörður. The only reason we’d come back to Iceland was we’d loved our airbnb in Seyðisfjörður so much the last time we’d been there that we resolved we’d return one winter and just hang out there. And this was our plan.

The views as we drove east were spectacular.

The road conditions driving out east were….pretty appalling. After Jökulsárlón, there aren’t many tourists which means there really isn’t much traffic. I think we saw more reindeers than cars as we fishtailed on ice and wondered why in the hell they only had crash barriers off the side of some of the roads that hooked around cliffs over the sea. At one point we drove past an abandoned van on it’s side with “accident” tape around it. By the time it was getting dark there was such a high wind driving over one of the passes you couldn’t see more than the 5m road marking pole in front of you. Which is when you really rue your car rental choices of a Kia Rio.

The winds had at least calmed down a bit by the time we arrived in Seyðisfjörður. All we had to do was get up our drive to our airbnb overlooking the valley. I said to Marcel I hoped the car would make it. He said he wouldn’t mind if we got stuck in the snow now because we could walk to our airbnb. He had to say that...seconds later our car gently skidded off the road and into the huge snow bank on the side of the drive.

Our hosts had apparently been supposed to email saying meet them in the town because the drive way had been blocked by a lot of snow, but they hadn’t. However they did use their monster truck to spend the next 45 minutes extracting us from the snowbank, so swings and roundabouts. In the end we ended up leaving our car at their house in town and getting a lift up to our cabin with our stuff. Thankfully we’d already done a shop and planned to self-cater so we could recuperate from the long and slightly terrifying drive with a soak in the hot tub and dinner.

Our hosts had been very emphatic that we could ask them for lifts in and out of town whenever we wanted, but a combination of Britishness and embarrassment about disturbing their dinner to get them to dig our car out meant that we decided to walk into town instead. It was a pretty gentle and pleasant 2.5km downhill and we felt very smug especially when we saw some locals “walking” their dog by driving slowly as the dog chased the car (later saw the tracks of someone who’d been driving their snowmobile to exercise their dog).

The supermarket in town was...weirdly British. There were McVities digestives (Marcel discovered the chocolate and caramel ones on this holiday so I ended up having two packets wedged in my pocket for the journey home). Suede was playing over the tannoy. And a woman, who turned out to be the owner with a very strong midlands accent on the till. Apparently she met her Icelandic husband in Nottingham.

We pottered back up the hill (slightly less pleasant walk against gravity and into the wind when it is -12c outside) and spent the rest of the day living the dream eating biscuits, reading books and popping in and out of the hot tub. Just as good as I remembered it.

The next day we got slightly more adventurous and decided to go on a little snowshoeing adventure. It was -14c out and REALLY windy so I decided I didn’t want to venture far. Marcel wanted to go on the ridge behind our cottage but I said it looked avalanchy so we continued along our level of the valley a bit further. I love snowshoeing but our tracks were getting covered in seconds with the waves of snow blowing across the ground and it was incredibly cold so we only stayed out for about half an hour. When we got back Marcel said he was going to ask our hosts if it were safe to go up higher into the mountains but his conclusion was that it couldn’t be an avalanche risk area or they wouldn’t have built the town there. A quick google later and we discovered that the town is the site of Iceland’s worst ever avalanche tragedy with 24 people killed at the end of the 19th century and a factory flattened at the end of the 20th century. After that we decided to stick to the hot tub in safer activities.

The next day, despite stocking up on enough chocolate digestives to last several lifetimes, we had to go back into town to start our car because we’d forgotten that car batteries don’t really like it brutally cold. So down to town we pottered. Problem was, Marcel forgot that key fob batteries also don’t like it cold and he’d left the fob in an outer pocket. So when we got to the car we couldn’t remotely open it. We had to manually open it with the key in the lock, which triggered the alarm to go off. I think our hosts, whose house we’d parked outside, were fairly sure we were actually handicapped when it came to motor vehicles. We drove the car around a little bit and then tried to park it again, only to find ourselves menaced by a goose. I know this sounds like a joke but it was hanging out in our parking space, wouldn’t move and then tried to get inside our car. We had to lure it away with crisps (not sure if salt and vinegar crisps are good for geese. If anyone found a dead goose later that day, sorry[ish]).

We pottered back up the hill and settled down to the rest of the day; an exhausting cycle of hot tub and reading in our beautiful cottage.

By the night time it had started to lightly snow. We decided we’d have a really long final hot tub soak so lazed in there like hippos. I was trying to catch some snowflakes on my tongue (sod’s law, none seemed to fall in my mouth but they kept repeatedly landing directly on my eyeballs) and suddenly we saw the northern lights again. Which was incredibly luck considering the night was reasonably cloudy. They whirled around for about 5 minutes and then disappeared, which was a very nice last evening at our cottage.

The next day we nervously checked the road conditions and headed off. Going south there was a huge storm forecast and the road was pretty much out of bounds. Luckily we were heading back to Reyjavik via the northern route. Step one of the journey was get over the pass to Egilsstaðir. No problem. The next step of the journey, which was between Egilsstaðir and Mývatn, is the least driven part of the circular road around Iceland, Route 1. We drove for about an hour. All was well. Then we noticed some cars slowing down ahead to find that the snow had drifted across an uphill portion of the road, where a little car had skidded and got stuck on the opposite side of the road (not dangerous, because there’s about 10 cars an hour on this road). This was unsettling to us in our tiny Kia as we clearly couldn’t turn around as the Southern roads were out, there is no other road ploughed at this time of year to get around this, and our car was clearly no better suited to it than the skidded car that a jeep was now trying to rescue. Marcel got out of the car and walked the hill to better look at it. We had zero phone reception (annoyingly we did at most places along the route but we had none there) to call the roads number to see when the next snowplough was due. So in the end we decided to risk it. We skidded and skittered but we eventually made it through! Which was both good and bad as now we were aware that if we hit any further bad road conditions we’d be really screwed as we’d be unlikely to be able to go back the way we came as the snow was continuing to drift. We did however make it to Mývatn okay, which was good because after that the road is a bit more used so a bit more ploughed.

We had lunch in the cow restaurant we’d been to before and ate rye bread cooked in a lava vent and looked out the window at the 3ft of snow piled outside and debated thermal baths over further snowshoeing.

There was however a road that wasn’t ploughed in winter but led up to a caldera, which we thought might be nice to snowshoe on as would have a level terrain under the snow and a decent end point. So we drove down there….only to find that some extremely optimistic/dim tourist had decided to drive their 2wd small car on what was clearly an unploughed road with several feet of snow on it and got stuck, and now the entrance to the unploughed road was filled with vehicles trying to rescue them. With our plans to snowshoe thwarted, we decided to head to the Mývatn baths.

The downside of this is that they turned out to be in a selectively extremely windy spot. We got out the car to find a wind speed best described as “scouring”. We are made of stern stuff though so headed bravely onwards. The pools are obviously hot, but the wind was so strong it was generating waves in the pool (fine) and then breaking those waves into spray in the air. Which meant the only tolerable thing to do was float on your back with only your nose and mouth above water. Unfortunately I suffer from a terrible affliction known as “extremely buoyant legs” so struggled over the next hour to stop them surfacing and exposing my feet and knees to a little light hypothermia. I ended up tucking them under Marcel’s legs which are incredibly unbuoyant (how lucky that of all the people in the world I found my leg buoyancy opposite).

We eventually got out and drove onto Akureyri. Our accomodation was right in the middle of town on a steep hill. So steep and so badly gritted (which I feel is a strange thing for a road in a pretty big [for Iceland] town in a very snowy part of the world to be) that our car got stuck trying to get up it. Eventually we got enough traction to make it into the car park of our hotel, but we decided to limit dinner choices to “restaurants within walking distance”. Luckily there was a burger joint in our street that we could totter carefully to.

Our final day was 6 hours of driving to get to the airport in time for our flight. Which was pretty stressful. Not going to lie. There seemed to be an uncanny (given how empty the roads were) link between where the snow was thickest and most slippery and the sudden emergence of a large lorry barrelling along in the other direction (the ring road is a single lane in each direction for about 99% of the road). But we made it! With just enough time to collapse with nervous exhaustion and eat some sandwiches before our flight home. Despite the terrors of driving and the discovery that renting a tiny car in winter is only a good idea 75% of the time, it was an amazing relaxing week and also FINALLY we got some decent northern lights!

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ntrending · 6 years ago

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There's a giant crater the size of a city hiding under Greenland

New Post has been published on https://nexcraft.co/theres-a-giant-crater-the-size-of-a-city-hiding-under-greenland/

There's a giant crater the size of a city hiding under Greenland

Thousands or maybe millions of years ago, a giant asteroid slammed into Greenland and created a crater stretching out to about 19 miles in width, according to new findings published in Science Advances on Wednesday. It’s one of the biggest asteroid craters to ever sear itself into Earth’s surface.

If it’s really an asteroid crater, that is. There’s definitely a giant circular cavity sitting underneath an ice sheet that we’ve never before observed, but exactly how it got there has created something of a debate among geologists. Did an asteroid really smash into the ground? Was the crater created by other, more Earthly means?

Here’s what we have so far: a research group from Denmark, studying a topographical map of the bedrock beneath northwest Greenland, realized there was a large, circular, closed depression intact under the massive Hiawatha Glacier. “It went unnoticed simply because it’s a very remote region of the planet that hasn’t been explored all that much,” says Joseph MacGregor, a project scientist with NASA Goddard Space Flight Center and a co-author of the new paper. Most scientists studying the region, he adds, are focused more on the effects of climate change in transforming the environment, and almost nobody was out looking for signs of craters.

Once the Danish team found the depression, however, they quickly went to work to figure out what exactly was going on at this site. Conscripting MacGregor and others from around the world for this investigation, the team collected data from both ground and aerial surveys, analyzed sediment samples in the lab, made radar measurements of the glacier and bedrock beneath, and assessed the extent of the depression’s footprint. The team also started paying much more attention to the area with their own eyes and began seeing more obvious signs of the crater’s presence.

“We’re very surprised that we could find it,” says MacGregor. “But once you start thinking there might be craters beneath the ice, the structure beneath the Hiawatha Glacier sticks out like a sore thumb.”

Eventually, the team settled on a narrative that goes like this: between 3 million and 12,000 years ago, an asteroid roughly 3,100 feet wide and rich in iron pummeled Greenland and left behind an enormous dent in the ground. Later on, the ice sheet would recover and mask the impact crater in a 3,200-foot layer of snow.

At least, that’s part of the story. Exactly what happened in the aftermath really depends on whether or not there was originally an ice sheet there as the asteroid hurtled to the ground. “If there was, then billions of tons of water would have either melted or vaporized instantly, most of which would have eventually made its way into the atmosphere or ocean,” says MacGregor. All of that melted water would have quickly streamed into the ocean. Combined with massive amounts of debris getting flung into the atmosphere, these effects would have likely caused a significant global cooling effect (similar to what is experienced during a volcanic winter). Even in the absence of an ice sheet, there would have still been noticeable environmental effects stemming from such an impact. If the impact really happened, scientists should presumably be able to link the event with perturbations in the atmospheric and climatic record of the planet and the region.

Those links remain an unknown thanks in part to the study’s biggest limitation: the fact that we don’t know when exactly the asteroid hit Earth. The research team has yet to acquire a direct rock sample to radiometrically date the impact crater and give them a narrow timeframe to work with.

It’s not just those few unknowns that are sapping some of the excitement. “I have strong reservations and doubts about the interpretations in this study,” says Christian Koeberl, an impact crater expert from the University of Vienna, who was not involved with the paper. “The authors report on some interesting phenomena, but the ‘definitive’ interpretation and conclusion that a large impact crater underneath the ice has been discovered is a severe over-interpretation of the existing data.”

Koeberl cites several inconsistencies regarding a few of the paper’s major findings. One is the discovery of shocked quartz grains—a sign of fast-melting rock from an asteroid impact—in one of the float samples (rocks not connected to an obvious source or basement). “Even if one would agree that there are some shocked quartz grains, one swallow does not make a summer, just like one rock from an unknown source with a few shocked quartz grains does not make an impact crater,” he says.

Another float sample reportedly contains possible enrichment of platinum group elements, which is presumably a sign of meteorite contaminations. Since the float sample can’t be definitively linked as originating from the crater, Koeberl thinks the authors have made a “leap of faith” judgment that their one rock sample, whose platinum group elements are unlike normal meteorite contaminations, comes from the crater, and that this is confirmation the site is an impact structure.

Then there are questions about the crater itself. The 19-mile diameter crater is missing a central uplift or central ring structure that’s ubiquitous in all terrestrial impact craters larger than 2.5 miles. According to Koeberl, one of the most damning problems for the study’s claims is that if the crater really is as young as the authors say it is (remember, 3 million years is a blink in geological terms), it should be surrounded by ejected impact debris hundreds of meters thick. “This is all missing,” he says. “Just a few float samples? There should be thick ejecta layers in all ice cores nearby. Yet there’s nothing.”

If the site turns out to really be an impact crater, the implications extend beyond just knowing there’s a pretty gigantic cavity sitting under the Hiawatha Glacier. “We now know that impact structures beneath ice can be found,” says MacGregor. “It’s now an open question as to how many exist beneath the Greenland and Antarctic ice sheets that we might actually be able to confidently detect.”

But those implications hinge on whether we can confirm an asteroid impact created the crater under the Hiawatha Glacier. The debate will stew on until we collect more data, but one thing is certain: the crater’s discovery just created a whole lot of research opportunities for scientists looking to saddle up and do some ice drilling.

Written By Neel V. Patel

#Space

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travelinghermit · 8 years ago

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Whatta Day.

Yesterday on the morning of my final day of riding my big loop of Western Ecuador I recall wondering to myself "How do I always have something to write about after each day when im doing nothing but riding my motorbike?" I thought it was a funny question but knew deep down theres always something to say. The landscapes I pass, the times I get lost, what I ate, etc. Well what I didnt realise as I thought this early yesterday morning was that this day in particular would be one that I would have much to write about. I didnt write this yesterday night so that may be an indicator on the day I had. I began my day in Babahoyo at around 845-9ish am. I had eaten my normal breakfast of 2 yogurts with tiny packs of cornflakes, and apples. I wheeled my motorbike out from storage beside the hotel and just like that I was on the road again. I had planned my route perfectly I was going to take a secondary road North which would arch and connect with Latacunga where I am now so then when I leave I would take the primary road south which connects to my next destination Banos. Everything was perfectly set and so total I believe I was going the right way for a total of three minutes. My phone wanted me to cross a bridge and I didnt know where that was so I mustve reconnected the route and then it changed my course for that primary road. I never did realise I was going that way until I was practically at my destination. Now thats not so bad but that was just the beginning of what was to come. When I as driving into Babahoyo the day before and also the morning as I was driving out., just beautiful, hot, humid weather. As I wrote the day before I got two fairly impressive sun burns on my neck and arms which have now since healed. Yesterday could not be more opposite. If we in Vancouver think our weather is f#cked than Ecuador is on an entire new level. Its the only place I have ever been to where I see the darkest, black, most miserable looking clouds ahead of me that only stir fear in my heart then ill look in my rear view mirrors and its beautiful blue skys. Its a trip. So I was finally glad to get away from the humidity yet I knew I would be sacrificing the beautiful weather with it. As time went on the clouds built up more and more as I was going higher into the mountains. Which was very welcome but it was getting colder. I pulled over and got on my fleece which did the trick some what. I then pulled into the gas station and thats when things got squirlly. Apparently I have been putting the wrong gas in my motorbike for who knows how long. I cannot be blamed though as theres no way of knowing which gas to put in in Ecuador. Theres only two options "Extra" and "Super", Uuh ok. Extra was the cheapest so obviously thats what I went with. Then out of no where with no reason at all Extra gets replaced with this "Ecopais" at the Gas Stations. Ya no idea. My bike had been acting weird for a while making these jerky motions while at top gear I just thought there might have been water in the gas tank. I get the gas at around eleven and so suddenly my bike isnt liking this one bit. I have used the same gas all throughout Ecuador and its weird that my bike started acting weird now all of a sudden. The jerking motions increased heavily and now my bike wouldnt accelerate more than 50 or 60km. I knew right away it was the gas. Worst of all I was climbing higher up the mountain entering dense fog cover. Absolutley the worst time for this to happen. What could I do? I just rode on with my jerky slow moving bike as far to the side of the road as possible allowing everyone to pass me. It got really cold and the rain decided to show. It was actually kind of funny I thought as I was riding because when I ascented as high as possible I entered this beautiful landscape it was like a valley on top of a mountain with wild Elpacas roaming around, first time seeing them too, I saw a bit of snow , and worst of all I knew this road would have made for superb riding. Yet here I was crawling along. My kilometer gage was nearing 1000 so I knew I had to get an oil change soon and I thought lets have the mechanic check it out while im there, yet I knew what was wrong. Got the oil change but had to go to another guy for the tune up in another village. He was great. He took something off the buke and cleaned it out and then tightened my breaks and applied oil to my chain which has been forever. All for $3.00. I then rode to Lacagunga where my bike was still making those jerky motions but as soon as I put the Super gas in the tank it was all smooth. I was tired so I got in the first hotel saw. I asked the price of a room to the lady I heard "diaz" ten. I asked again and I heard "seis Six. Alright! I thought great deal. I unpacked all my gear, parked my bike in the hotel parking and then I find out she said "diaz y seis" Sixteen. Completely my fault I knew that number but I guess I was tired and heard only what I wanted to hear. I reluctantly accepted but when I was laying on my bed it just didnt feel right. So I get all my stuff and get back on my bike because I am a total cheapscape. I then proceed to spend an hour and a half circling through the city looking for a room for $10. Nothing, all $15 or so and they werent even as nice as the first hotel and most importantly have no parking for my bike. After all that time I limp back into the first hotel and ask for another room. I think I was just exhausted because I swear they were messing with me. I had a ground floor room the first time now I was put 3 levels above with no wifi but then I found out people took the room after me. At this time it was around 6:10pm at night I had been on the go since 845am and I was starving and tired. Two things that arent pleasurable together. I immediatley went and get some dinner of Chicken, beans, rice, tomatoes, and avocado. The perfect dinner in my view. Then I went to the neighbouring supermarket got myself a huge CRUNCH bar, some snacks, and breakfast for today. Then I went back to my room and relaxed, watched some shows on my phone, and that was the cap to my day. It really wasnt that bad cause I think I handled it all perfectly, stayed calm throughout and now im taking it easy today in Lacagunga, sitting in a cafe on my second cappucino writing this. I am preparing a three to five day trek around the Quilota crater a couple kilometers from town. Its my solution on whether to spend the big bucks to climb Cotopaxi Volcano so I found this trek you can do by yourself for a few days and its incredibly inexpensive. So ill either do that tomorrow or the next day. After this I am going to try to find some base layers or just another warm layer for myself. Its absolutley insane how there is no store in town that sells good quality climbing gear. I found a cafe where im at now that also organizes tours so I asked the guy where I can buy good gear and he gave me a place. So if you dont hear from me in the next three to five days im out trekking.

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viralhottopics · 8 years ago

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Call of the wild: can Americas national parks survive? | Lucy Rock

Americas national parks are facing multiple threats, despite being central to the frontier nations sense of itself, says Lucy Rock

Autumn in the North Cascades National Park and soggy clouds cling to the peaks of the mountains that inspired the musings of Beat poets such as Jack Kerouac and Alan Ginsberg 60 years ago. Sitting on a carpet of pine needles in the forest below, protected from the rain by a canopy of vine maple leaves, is a group of 10-year-olds listening to a naturalist hoping to spark a similar love of the outdoors in a new generation.

This is one of 59 national parks which range across the United States, from the depths of the Grand Canyon in Arizona to the turrets of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. All plus hundreds of monuments and historic sites are run by the National Park Service (NPS), which celebrated its centenary last year. The parks were created so that Americas natural wonders would be accessible to everyone, rather than sold off to the highest bidder. Writer Wallace Stegner called them Americas best idea: Absolutely democratic, they reflect us at our best rather than our worst.

Its easy to agree. Nicknamed Americas Alps, Washington States North Cascades is an area of soaring beauty, a wilderness of fire and ice thanks to hundreds of glaciers and dense forest where trees burn in summer blazes. The Pacific Crest Trail made famous by Cheryl Strayeds memoir, Wild, and the subsequent film starring Reese Witherspoon runs through the park. Walking along Thunder Creek one midweek morning, the only sound is rushing water and birdsong. The view is a nature-layered cake of teal water, forested mountain slopes and snowy summits. But it is here that you can also observe the threats facing the parks in their next 100 years. They are fighting a war on three fronts: severe underfunding, climate change and a lack of diversity and youth among their visitors.

Jack Kerouac spent the summer of 1956 as a fire lookout atop Desolation Peak in the North Cascades, surrounded by silence and rocky spires, far from the drink, drugs and distractions of his San Francisco life. He drew on his Cascades experiences in Dharma Bums, Lonesome Traveler and Desolation Angels, in which he wrote: Those lazy afternoons, when I used to sit, or lie down, on Desolation Peak, sometimes on the alpine grass, hundreds of miles of snow-covered rock all around Those views look different today. Climate change is causing the glaciers to melt: their square footage shrank by 20% between 1959 and 2009.

Running with the herd: bison on the prairie below the Grand Teton mountains in Yellowstone. Photograph: Matt Anderson/Getty Images

Saul Weisberg, executive director of the North Cascades Institute, an environmental educational organisation, said that the difference between photos from September when the seasonal snow is gone in the 1950s and today was, Incredibly dramatic. Snow is melting back more and more and now you see a lot more rock when you look at the mountains.

Climate change is killing trees, threatening birds and mammals, and leading to devastating wildfires across the 85m acres run by the NPS. Patrick Gonzalez, the principal climate-change scientist at the NPS, told me about rising sea levels (theres been a 22cm rise across the bay at Golden Gate National Recreation Area, California, since 1954); high ocean temperatures bleaching and killing coral in Virgin Islands National Park; and major vegetation types and wildlife moving upwards.

Yosemite saw subalpine forests moving up into subalpine meadows over the last century and small mammals, including mice and ground squirrels, shifting 500m uphill. As temperatures warm, he said, things on higher elevations get warmer and things on lower elevations move up. Bark beetles, once killed by cold winters, are now surviving and wreaking havoc with trees. You go to Rocky Mountains, Yellowstone hillsides formerly covered in a green canopy of trees are now just rust-coloured areas.

If no action is taken, the glaciers of Glacier National Park may melt away; Joshua trees could die out in the park that bears their name; bison may disappear from Yellowstone; and the ancient cliff dwellings in Mesa Verde in Colorado could crumble away.

The NPS is tackling the issue in two ways, said Gonzalez, first by cutting emissions from its own operations by 35% by 2020; and secondly, by adapting its management of the parks to cope with how things might look under climate change rather than trying to maintain them as pictures of the past. With full implementation of the Paris climate agreement and further improvements in energy efficiency and sustainability we can avoid the most drastic effects of climate change, he said.

Digging deep: the Grand Canyon, one of 59 national parks in America. Photograph: Michele Falzone/Getty Images

However, Donald Trump has called climate change a hoax. After the election, he conceded there was some connectivity between human activity and climate change and wavered on a previous vow to cancel the Paris agreement. Yet several of his picks for key posts in his administration are climate science sceptics, including Scott Pruitt and Ryan Zinke.

The ravages of climate change exacerbate another peril facing the parks: lack of money. There is an $11.9bn maintenance backlog and the system is understaffed, with 10% fewer employees than five years ago. Roads and bridges are crumbling, trails need repairing and campgrounds are neglected.

The 140-mile Yellowstone loop road was designed a century ago for horse-drawn carriages and requires a $1bn rebuild. The adobe Old Santa Fe Trail building needs $2m-worth of repairs to walls damaged by water and pests.

The North Cascades, which became a National Park in 1968, has a $21.8m to-do list. All of it needs attention, said Denise Shultz, of the NPS. National parks are like mini cities with water-treatment plants, electrical grids to take care of and bridges. There are over 300 miles of trails in the park. Its like housekeeping. It never gets finished.

Although wear and tear is visible at the amphitheatre at Newhalem campground in the North Cascades, you can see the wooden stage is rotting and the asphalt is buckling visitors are shielded from much of it.

Largely, the parks service prioritises projects that improve and maintain the visitor experience and ensures the safety of visitors, said John Garder, the budget director at the National Parks Conservation Association that lobbies on behalf of the parks. But there are safety concerns, such as old wiring that has to be replaced. There are major multi-million dollar issues with water and waste water. If those ageing systems arent dealt with then it will raise questions about whether the parks are still able to accommodate visitors.

The bulk of the parks $3.1bn budget comes from Congress with the rest from entrance charges, philanthropy and fees paid by hotels, restaurants and other businesses operating on the land. But Congresss embracement of austerity after the recession saw the NPSs purse strings pulled ever tighter, the annual amount received falling 8% from 2005 to 2014 after adjusting for inflation.

Setting sun: climate change means the Joshua trees that gave the national park its name could die out. Photograph: James O’Neil/Getty Images

Half of the $11.9bn repair list is transportation infrastructure roads, bridges, car parks and the like. Money for this is earmarked for the NPS in a transportation bill passed by Congress and has stood at $240m annually for the past few years. Congress has approved an increase totalling $220m over the next five years. That investment should be hundreds of millions more, said Garder.

The non-transportation part of the backlog is funded by Congress through the park operations account (for smaller projects and day-to-day maintenance) and the construction account (for major repairs).

Garder said both had been insufficient for years and the construction account, after controlling for inflation, was scarcely half of what it was 10 years ago.

His verdict on a 9% increase given to the NPS by Congress to mark the centenary? A considerable increase, yet much more needs to be done. He hopes that Trumps promise to invest in infrastructure will cover the parks repairs, too. This would create construction jobs and help tourism, he said. The parks are vital to local economies: for every $1 invested, $10 in economic activity is generated and they fund 300,000 private sector jobs in terms of hotels, restaurants, souvenir shops and more.

What the national parks are not short of is visitors a record 307m in 2015, 14m up on the previous year, meaning more wear and tear that stretches funds further. The top draws were Great Smoky Mountain National Park on the Tennessee/North Carolina border, with 10.7m visitors; Arizonas Grand Canyon, with 5.5m; and Colorados Rocky Mountain National Park and Californias Yosemite, both with 4.15m.

But while the national parks belong to everyone, not everyone is going. Those who do are mainly white, middle-class and well into middle-age. The challenge is how to attract a younger crowd to ensure support for protection and funding of the parks in the future.

The NPS is trying to tell a more inclusive story of America by increasing the number of sites and monuments honouring African- American, Latino, Asian-American, Pacific Islander, LGBTQ and womens history.

Rust belt: pine trees in the Helena National Forest devastated by bark beetles, once killed by cold winters. Photograph: William Campbell/Corbis via Getty Images

To tear millennials away from indoor digital distractions, the Find Your Park campaign is marketing the parks, ironically, via social media. Meanwhile, Every Kid in a Park gives all 10-year-olds a free family pass (many parks charge an entrance fee).

Nor do the parks staff reflect the visitors they want to attract in terms of gender, age or race. Around 80% are white, 63% male and 50% over the age of 46. Recent revelations of sexual harassment and bullying in the workforce havent helped its image. Internships and volunteer opportunities are being offered to encourage those who might not have thought of working for the NPS to apply for jobs.

In the North Cascades, rangers work with local Hispanic communities. We bring school kids out into the parks and give them experience of doing things that are fun, said Denise Shultz, but which many of us take for granted, like camping and hiking, and learning how to identify birds and plants.

Some people fear the outdoors, she said, and it was about finding out how to make them comfortable. She recalled taking a group of urban Latino female bloggers to the Grand Canyon to kayak and hike. She asked what had worried them most. One said: I am a full- figured Latino woman and the thing that scared me the most was shopping at REI [an outdoor-gear retailer]. Shed thought it was a store for skinny white people and was afraid nothing would fit and she wouldnt know what all the equipment was for. It can be a whole different language and culture for people. She said she had a great experience in the store when she actually went.

The NPS boosts its efforts by providing a ranger to help with Mountain School at the non-profit North Cascades Institute.

At the institutes learning centre on the shores of Lake Diablo, the children who were listening to the naturalist in the forest in the afternoon join 70 classmates in the evening to inspect the skulls of wolves and black bears with ranger Anna Mateljak, before singing around a campfire.

Saul Weisberg is passionate about the power of education to effect change, and gave up being a ranger to co-found the institute 30 years ago. It was at the height of fights over the spotted owl [environmentalists blamed logging for destroying their habitat] and timber wars. There were demonstrations, court fights, direct action, tree sit-ins. It seemed like no one was using education as a tool of conservation.

As well as adult and graduate courses, and weekend getaways for families, it runs leadership camps for high school pupils with no experience of the outdoors, and the Mountain School where children stay for three days of hands-on activities.

Weisberg, also a poet, was drawn to the Cascades after reading Kerouac at high school in Ohio. He still indulges his passion by running a Beats on the Peaks course, which includes a hike up Desolation Peak to the lookout. Hes not sure the Beat poets have the same pull for todays teenagers, yet at a time when the national parks future is unpredictable, perhaps Kerouacs advice is still relevant: Because in the end, you wont remember the time you spent working in the office or mowing the lawn. Climb that goddamn mountain!