#was it john and gale hanging back alone together? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skyyguy · 2 months ago

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30 for the prompt list perchance 🫵🏻

Prompt:

30) “You’ll be fine.” silence “You’ll be fine. Hey! Wake up! Please. Please wake up…”

He hadn't been able to sit still in nearly two days, his nerves frayed. Even Curt had been avoiding him, not wanting to get his head bit off while John was in one of his rages. Curt knew why John was so upset, so angry, but that didn't mean he wanted to be on the recieving end of it. John understood, but it still annoyed him, that Curt wouldn't join him at the bar. It was his last ditch effort to keep from losing his mind as the search for Martin continued, going nowhere, hitting dead end after dead end. John didn't even care about Martin, no, he only cared about Gale, once again in the hands of that man. Guilt gnawed at him, a broken promise echoing in his ears any time it was silent around him.

That's what found him alone, in a bar, drowning his sorrows with whiskey in a noisy, crowded bar. John swirled his fourth glass, studying the way the liquid sloshed around. He wished Gale was there, even if the morph would give him a disapproving look, telling him to stop drinking as much. Of course, Gale would never be out in a public bar, but that was besides the point, at least in John's mind. They'd been drinking at the base plenty. Well, John had done the drinking, Gale had only had water or soda. John still counted it as them drinking together, though.

"What?" John growled as he answered the phone that drug him out of his thoughts.

"We found 'em, John," Curt said on the other end of the call, breathless, excited.

"What?" John repeated, less of a growl and more of a breathless gasp, the breath having been knocked out of him by his friend's words.

"We tracked 'em, got 'em pinned."

"Where?"

"Team's getting together now, get back here," Curt replied, though John was already getting up, tossing his money on the counter next to his glass, pulling out his Jeep keys.

"On my way, don't you leave before I get back," John ordered.

"Don't drive too insane," Curt retorted, hanging up the phone. John rolled his eyes and shoved his way out of the bar, long strides taking him to the Jeep and sliding into the driver's seat. He barely remembered to look before backing out of the stop, throwing the Jeep in drive and flooring it, running over the curb in his haste to get back to the base.

"Get in," Curt said, John's Jeep barely parked before he was hopping out, long legs taking him to the armored vehicle, waving Curt's order off as he pulled himself into the van.

"Let's go," John barked as Curt slammed the door, the car starting immediately, the driver flooring it to get them on their way. His leg was jiggling as his nerves amped up and some of the other men cast him a look, but Curt shot a glare back, silencing any comments before they started. It had been over four months since they'd rescued Gale and Ken and John had been extremely protective of him since, everyone knew it. Everyone in that truck had seen John's face when he'd woken up in the infirmary wing to learn that Gale had been taken. They'd drawn straws to see who would tell him.

It was a long drive and John didn't know how he held himself together for all three hours of it, but he did, with a lot of stern looks from Curt. John was out of the vehicle before it even stopped moving, taking off running towards the manor. The others�� with some swearing from Curt— leapt out and followed suit, ready for whatever the raid would bring. The others easily caught up to John, overtaking him. Curt grabbed John's arm pulling him into a stop, hissing a warning, to him, John rolling his eyes and trying to get his arm out of Curt's grip.

"John, you're the medic, you're not armed," Curt snapped.

"Yeah, and?"

"You cannot be running in there before it's secured," Curt shoved John in the chest with his gun, still holding John's arm, "you're no good to anyone if you get yourself shot, got it? You wait till the area's secured," he growled, trying to catch John's eye, "Whatdda thinks gonna happen to Buck if you get yourself shot, huh?" Curt snapped, thumping his gun on John's chest, making the taller jerk his chin, eyes hard and nostrils flaring as he looked down at Curt. After a few seconds, John deflated slightly, breathing out through his nose.

"I know, I know," John huffed out, shoulders sagging. They heard the door slam open, wood exploding for the force of the impact against it, and John looked up, almost hopeful. Curt didn't let go of his arm, but turned toward the door, taking a deep dreath.

"Wait for the signal, Bucky," Curt ordered, earning a snort from the other.

"I'm the CO here, Curt," John grumbled, but he didn't press forward, didn't try to shake Curt's hold off, he held steady, staring intenly and waiting for the signal. And there, after an aganignly long couple minutes, it finally came. Curt and John charged forward as one, John shortening his stride to stay in step with Curt.

"We're here for Gale, the other's 've got Martin, stay focused," Curt reminded John as he slowed down, glancing towards the sound of yelling, gunfire, an explosion. John jerked his head around to Curt, eyes blazing at his words, and nodded, picking up the pace again. Their intel had told them that Gale was isolated in the East wing, caged and locked up tightly, but that he was left unguarded. John had his doubts that Martin left his prized captive unguarded, but he hadn't been able to convince the rest of the crew. That left him sprinting along to the East wing with Curt and one other armed man in step with him.

"John, whatever we find, don't you dare leave my side, got it?" Curt barked at him as they headed along. John grunted in agreement as they neared the East wing, slowing from a dead sprint to a light jog.

"He'll be there," the other man, Rosie, assured him, "this is solid intel," and again, John only grunted, his stomach roiling in anxiety. They slowed to a stop, looking around the wing, uncertain which way to go. John held up a hand and considered his options, thinking about the manor blueprints he'd looked at on the ride over.

"Upstairs, down the hall, second door on the right," John said, earning a confused noise from Rosie, "that's the most likely. No windows, no attached bathroom, only one way in and out. Easiest to keep secure," John explained, picturing it. He hated to think of Gale, who loved the sun, the stars, the sky, stuck in a windowless room, wings likely bound once more, abused and hopeless. He hoped that Gale knew he'd come for him, but John couldn't imagine how it felt to get captured by this man once more, couldn't imagine Gale would be able to hold onto any positive thoughts.

"Let's go," Curt said, accepting John's deduction and reasoning with a sharp nod, setting off towards the stairs, John hot on his heels, Rosie falling into the back to cover them. They were slow, careful with their steps to make sure they wouldn't alert any potential guards, on high alert. The wing was quiet, no sounds of any guards or life at all, and it only made John's anxiety worse, the hair on the back of his neck prickling with uncertainty. Gale had to be there, John didn't know what he'd do if he wasn't. Curt held up a hand, making John skid to a stop, Rosie creeping up behind them. They held still, John holding his breath, until Curt nodded to Rosie, motioning to the door a few feet from them. Rosie moved forward to shove the door open, Curt immediately filling the doorway with his gun drawn, ready to fire on any enemy in the room.

"Clear," Curt said over his shoulder, voice much more hushed than John would have expected, and he charged into the room, shoving by Curt with no hesitation as Rosie shut the door behind them. He froze when he took in the scene in front of him, breath leaving his lungs, heart plummeting. Gale was there. Yeah. Gale was there.

His wings were spread wide, multiple hooks in them, holding the morph up off the ground, the blue of his feathers stained with blood. Gale's face and body were bloodied, gashes showing through tattered clothes, his body hanging limp. John couldn't breathe as he took in the way Gale's chest was wrapped in a thick, tight leather harness, helping to keep him suspended from the ceiling, his wrists cuffed in iron shackles, rope holding him spread eagle. Gale wasn't moving.

Curt was beside him in a second, hand on John's arm comfortingly, trying to get him to breathe, to do something. He motioned to Rosie, glancing between him and Gale, and Rosie nodded, strapping his gun to his back and starting to search the room for something to get Gale down with. John finally drew in a shaky inhale, tearing his eyes away to look at Curt, eyes alight with rage.

"Where's. Martin." It wasn't a question.

"John, focus," Curt said gently, "we gotta get Gale taken care of, that's our job, the other's got Martin," he reminded John, relieved when some of the fire drained out of his eyes, gaze flickering back to Gale and softening.

"Rosie, find anything?" John called nodding to Curt before spinning to the other. Rosie glanced up from the chest he was fiddling with.

"Unsure, gotta get this open," he nodded to the chest, shoving a pin into a lock, grinning when the lock clicked satisfyingly, the chest popping open. He flung the lid open and paled slightly before starting to dig through it.

"John, support his legs," Curt said suddenly, urgently, and John's head whipped to him, following his gaze to Gale. Then he heard it, the small groan of pain, and he rushed forward, grabbing Gale around the waist and holding his body up, knees digging into his ribs. Gale let out a whimper at the way his body and wings shifted on the hooks, his body trembling in pain.

"Got something," Rosie announced. John pressed his face against Gale's stomach, screwing his eyes shut and trying to breath through the panic and anxiety racing through his veins. Gale groaned again, breath gasping out of his lungs in short bursts. There was thump behind them and John flinched slightly. John didn't dare try to move again, lest he end up hurting Gale more than he was already hurt, but he heard the sound of boots on metal behind him.

"Ready, John? We're gonna cut him down one hook at a time, 'kay?" Curt asked him.

"Go," John replied, adjusting his grip slightly. He heard a blade slice through a thick rope followed by Gale's gasping whine of pain. He pressed his forehead against the bloody, tattered shirt, not caring if he got bloodied in the process, hoping to help distract Gale from the pain.

"Hey, love," he muttered softly against Gale's stomach, rubbing a hand over his hip, "we're here now, darlin', we've got you. It's Curt, Rosie, and I," John explained quietly. If the others heard him, they chose to pretend they didn't, to John's relief, "we're gonna get you outta here, gonna get you home. Maybe when we're home, we'll get some ice cream," John continued, his tongue finally loose of the anxiety that had him frozen, "get you a nice big vanilla ice cream, how's that sound, baby? Maybe with some sprinkles and fudge sauce, getcha an extra special treat."

"Easy, Gale," Curt muttered as the morph's wing twitched and jerked under his hand, as he started on the third rope, "I know it hurts, Buck, we're doing our best," he soothed, slicing through the third of 14 ropes— seven on each side. Gale whimpered again.

"C-curt," Gale whispered out, his voice pained and painful to force out. John pressed a little firmer on his hip, comfortingly.

"Yeah, Buck, I'm here," Curt replied, holding onto the ladder as Rosie worked to move it to the next rope.

"Hey, Buck," Rosie said softly.

"Ros-rosie," Gale forced out, a cough following on the heels of the name, racking his body in painful gasps, making him jerk and spasm on the hooks. All three of the men froze, waiting for it to pass. John's hold on him tightened, trying to hold him still to reduce the harm and pain. Gale whined in pain, a sob wracking his body as soon as the coughing passed and John felt his heart breaking.

"C'mon, Buck, you're okay," Curt muttered when he sobbed again as Curt touched his wing. John wanted to yell at him and Rosie to both speed up and slow down. He wanted Gale down as soon as possible but he wanted him safe and out of pain more. If going slow kept his pain to a minimum, John would just bite the bullet and deal with it. He wasn't struggling nearly as much as Gale was, that was for certain.

"What else d'you want on your ice cream, Buck?" John asked Gale, trying to distract him as Curt and Rosie moved to the next rope, "we can get anything. Or would you rather keep it simple and sweet? I think either way is great," John muttered, keeping his face against Gale's stomach, his hand gently running from his hip to his ribs, trying to comfort him. He could practically feel the panic simmering under Gale's skin, the way his breaths rattled in and out of his lungs, the shortness of the movemets, gasping and short. John wanted desparetly to have him down already, to start treating his wounds, the gashes littering his body, the holes in his wings. The sooner he could start on Gale's wounds, the sooner his breathing would even out, John reasoned, feeling Gale's stomach muscles twitching under his forehead as he struggled to get enough air into his lungs.

"S-simple," Gale forced out, making John smile softly. Even in unbearable pain, Gale's sweet tooth still won out.

"Can be done, baby, can be done," John replied, "I'll get you the biggest bowl of simple vanilla ice cream, doll," he promised, "we'll make it a date, my treat," John said, nearly laughing at his unintentional pun. He felt a hum from Gale and knew he was amused by it.

"Can I get a mint choco chip?" Curt asked, injecting into the conversation, earning an eye roll from John, and he hoped from Gale as well, though he couldn't see.

"Sure, Curt," John replied, "but you're not invited, we'll bring it back to you, probably melted."

"Aw, come on," Curt whined jokingly as he sliced through another rope. Rosie started moving the ladder to Gale's other wing, leaving the rope holding the harness intact, hoping to make sure the strain lesser on the morph's wings.

"'s okay Curty, just bring Ken, make it a double date," Rosie offered from the base of the ladder as yet another rope was cut, dragging the ladder along from the farthest rope back towards Gale.

"Oh, wonderful idea!" Curt chirped excitedly, "Ken would love that!" Gale's thighs twitched at the mention of Ken, perking up slighlty, the wing that was free shuddering where it drooped limply.

"Fine, we can do a double date," John grumbled in agreement, trying to pretend he was annoyed about this— which he would be if it weren't for the way Ken's name seemed to help ground Gale. If that's what Gale wanted, that's what Gale would get. Every time.

"John, you ready?" Rosie asked as they moved the ladder into position to cut Gale's hands and harness, the final things holding him up.

"Do it," John said, adjusting his grip slightly to better support Gale's slight weight, keeping his forehead pressed against Gale's stomach, breathing deeply to keep his anxiety in check. Rosie hummed and Curt grunted, acknowledging him, carefully cutting Gale's hands loose and lowering them to his sides. Curt made sure to put one of his hands on John's head, smiling softly when Gale sighed and his fingers twitched in his hair, trying to grab on lightly. John smiled against Gale's stomach, the touch doing more to calm his anxiety than just about anything else. Well, except for the sudden drop of all of Gale's weight on him as Curt got through the last rope, freeing Gale entirely.

"There we go, there we go, love, you're free now, let's get you laid down," John rambled, letting Gale's body slip down through his arms, slowly and carefully, till his arms were wrapped under his wings, holding him carefully, "just gotta get your wounds looked at, make sure you're safe to travel, then we'll get you in the trucks and back home," he continued. Gale didn't reply.

"We'll go keep watch," Curt said, shoving Rosie towards the door, dropping John's supply bag beside him, careful to avoid stepping on Gale's wings. John nodded at him gratefully before turning his attention back to Gale.

"A'ight, darlin', a'ight it's just us now. Let's get you cleaned up and home, 'kay?" John said, dragging his bag closer to him to get supplies out, “you’ll be fine, love,” John whispered to him, anxiety shooting through him as he realized Gale wasn't moving again, “you’ll be fine, Buck. Hey, c'mon, doll! Wake up! Please. Please wake up…” he pleaded, shuffling on his knees to press his fingers against Gale's neck, feeling for a pulse. He was only slightly relieved to find it, it was faint and slow, tettering on the edge of being an emergency, and John bit his lip, chewing on it.

"Curt!" John called, hearing the door slam open, "we need to go now, we don't have time to wait, he's fading," he ordered.

"Understood," Curt replied, all business as he stomped forwards and started working on getting Gale's wings folded away, using soft leather belts to hold them closed, muttering apologies to the unconscious morph as he did. Rosie watched from the doorway, alternating his attention between the three of them and the hallway, on high alert. Wings bound, Gale was ready to go and John grit his teeth, carefully working his arms under Gale to lift him up, holding him close to his chest, letting Gale's head rest on his shoulder.

"We ready?" Rosie asked over his shoulder.

"Ready," Curt said with a nod from John, falling into pace beside Rosie, John trotting smoothly behind them, keeping an eye on the rise and fall of Gale's chest.

"Hold," Rosie said, making Curt and John freeze in their stride. Curt moved a little more in front of John and Gale, gun raised and at the ready. Rosie crept forward a little, peering around a corner, hand up to signal the others to hold still. John heard the shouting, the pops of gunfire, then, and he tensed, clinging a little tighter to Gale.

"Curt," John ground out, "we need to go."

"I know," Curt replied sharply, "Rosie, we good?"

"We gotta go fast, but yeah, let's go," Rosie said, nodding, stepping into the hall and motioning the others forwards. Curt darted ahead, John on his heels, Rosie falling into the rear to cover them and keep them going. John ducked his head slighlty when the gunfire grew closer to them, wishing that he could take his time, Gale jostling in his arms. If Gale hadn't been out cold before, he would have been by then, John was sure. He knew he needed to get some meds in Gale sooner rather than later.

"Curtie," John growled as Curt slowed down.

"I know," Curt replied, waving his hand over his shoulder, taking a moment to look around before setting off at a faster pace once more, John immediately speeding up after him.

"I'm peeling off, joining the fight," Rosie called as the front door of the manor came into view.

"Thanks, Rosie," John grunted over his shoulder, not slowing at all. Curt shoved through the door and John burst out after, finally slowing down and taking a deep breath of air, quickly overtaking Curt with his longer legs and reaching their van, fumbling with the door handle till it opened and he launched himself into it, getting Gale settled on the gurnie, sitting in a chair beside it. Curt jumped up into the van and closed the door behind them.

"What'da need?" Curt asked, dropping his gear and moving through the van, starting to gather the essentials he knew John would need.

"We gotta get him stabilized," John replied, focusing on getting the bloodied clothes off Gale's injured body, the too-tight leather harness cutting into his skin as John tried to find the way to get it off, "gimme the scissors, I can't get this fucking thing off," he snarled, dabbing at the new blood welling along the leather. Curt shoved a pair of scissors into his hand and John held his breath as he worked the blade along Gale's skin, wincing when the metal cut into Gale's skin, getting the scissors around the leather and working to cut it off. It released with a satisfying noise and John was relieved to see Gale's chest inflate a little more as the tight leather released it's hold.

"Breathe, John, breathe," Curt muttered behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, "we've got him, he's gonna be okay," he comforted him, taking the scissors from him and shoving a syringe into it instead, "do your thing, doc," he said, just shy of an order. John rolled his eyes, appreciating the support, the comfort from his best friend and he sighed, getting to work on his morph, giving him the pain meds before setting to work cleaning and tending his wounds, cursing Martin with each swipe of cotton against blood stained skin.

By the time the rest of the crew got back to the vans, Gale was stable, wounds cleaned and dressed, wings carefully wrapped. John had given him a sedative, despite the fact he was still unconscious, knowing this ride home wasn't going to be pleasant for his beaten and battered body. John had blankets tucked around him, making sure he would stay warm and comfortable, strapped to the gurnie, for the whole three hour drive. John had Gale's hand in his stroking his thumb pensively over the morph's knuckles, chewing his lip.

"Ready, John?"

"What happened to Martin?" John asked.

"Dead," Rosie confirmed softly. John was torn, hearing that word. He wished he'd been the one to do it, but he was glad to know that Gale was safe and Martin would never threaten him ever again. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, nodding.

"Good," John whispered, squeezing Gale's hand, "good."

#Sky writes #Wings au #I don't have a good name for it yet #This is so long lmfao I'm so sorry

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rqsser · 6 months ago

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Hi,

About emo!gale, could we have a bit of friendly gale and protective bucky? At a party perhaps or when they are hanging out?

All love your AUs, they are so nice 😊

dude this has been in my inbox for WEEKS!! i’m so sorry it’s taken me so long… finals and whatnot for hs students yk

anyway!!! here is your request below the cut :)

—

Fridays are Gale’s favourite. A promise of days to let go laid out in front of him, stumble back to his house giggling in the dead of the night. He loves the weekends; who doesn’t?

John hates them. Well, he isn’t about to complain about two days off of school, but he’s given a whole new task from the second the final bell rings on a Friday. Don’t get him wrong, he loves his boyfriend and won’t moan and groan about taking care of him, it’s just… his decisions.

Currently, John is leaning against a counter at another house party that he was invited to. Gale was invited to, people just expect that John is going to be there. How Gale gets invited when he hardly talks at school? He’s not entirely sure on that fact.

Maybe it’s the glint in Gale’s blue eyes, one that hints at mischief in the best way possible. Just his gaze is able to do wonders on men and women alike, he would know, John is victim of it. There’s never a dull moment in his time with Gale. They’re always together, a package deal. If someone requests one of them, they should know that the other will show up, too.

Gale is talking to another person a few feet in front of him, enthusiastically and a bit overexcited. There’s a red solo cup in his left hand, and by the way he’s flailing it around as he speaks, it’s probably empty.

The flashing colours around them don’t phase John anymore. They used to, but since Gale managed to drag him to so many outings, he’s grown accustomed to them. Before, ever when he didn’t have more than one drink, just the lights alone would have him waking up with a migraine.

John can’t quite hear him, but he can feel the rumble of Gale’s voice against the blaring pop music. His eyes have been trailing around the room, spotting people he knows making out with someone he doesn’t recognize. He hates the atmosphere of parties. But if they help Gale be at ease, however that works, he’ll support him and tolerate the events.

His boyfriend is talking to guy, he notices. A guy who’s taller than Gale, perhaps even taller than John. Gale is rattling on about who knows what, he’s had more than a few drinks and he gets to rambling while drunk.

He turns his head to observe the scene in front of him. There’s a clear intention in the guy’s hazy eyes, John doesn’t blame him. It’s Gale. He’ll give it another minute before he scoops Gale up into his arms and either takes him home, or to a different part of whoever’s house this is. Maybe into the washrooms to get Gale to wind down for a bit.

Just as he’s about to move from his spot against the wall, the guy is stepping closer and bringing a hand lowly to rest on Gale’s hip. John is shocked still, he’s dealt with people getting touchy with Gale in the past, but nothing that intimate. A few too-long rubs up his arms, girls wrapping their arms around his neck and shoulders. They’re in high school, and John will not be letting some guy touch up on his boyfriend.

Not to mention, Gale’s smile is faltering at a rapid rate as his thumb traces circles into the exposed skin. His steps are heavy and borderline stomping. John completely bypasses the guy Gale is talking to in favour of draping his arm across Gale’s shoulders.

“Hey, Buck,” John mumbles and rests his head atop of Gale’s. He feels Gale laugh underneath him, and grins as well.

“Hi, baby.” Gale’s nose is pressed into his neck and he breathes John in, sweat and jealousy. The hand has dropped back to the guy’s side.

John cocks an eyebrow at him. “Who’s this?” He purposely drags his eyes up and down his figure, nothing below judgemental.

“I’m Charlie,” he greets, looking awfully more sober than he was not even a minute ago. John doesn’t take his hand when he reaches it out for him to shake. Charlie looks like he knows what he did, and has the courtesy to look embarrassed and shameful.

John merely hums, barely acknowledging his presence before he looks back to Gale. “I’m feeling tired, are you ready to go home?”

Gale bites his lip to hide his smile. He looks at Charlie, who has the expression of a kicked puppy, one that he shouldn’t have for getting caught hitting on John’s boyfriend. He sets his cup down on the floor, empty as he’d suspected.

“Yeah, there’s always tomorrow.” Gale spares Charlie a glance. “Sorry, Charlie. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, sure,” is what the awkward reply is, then they’re walking away.

John’s arm still curled around Gale possessively, he lets it fall to where Charlie’s hand had been and slips the tips of his fingers under Gale’s shirt. “You okay?” he asks and places a kiss to Gale’s head.

He opens the door and lets Gale walk out first.

“Yeah, now I am. Thanks, Bucky,” Gale says and laces his fingers with John’s behind his back. “Didn’t think that you’d be so pissed at a guy for some heavy petting like that.”

John scoffs at him. “Of course I would be! Nobody gets to touch my boyfriend like that except me,” he grumbles and tightens his grip on Gale’s waist slightly.

“And I wouldn’t want anyone else to.” Gale tilts his head up and pecks John on his cheek, then a deeper kiss to his lips. And as John goes to place his hand on Gale’s jaw, the car door opens.

#masters of the air #buck x bucky #mota #clegan #gale buck cleven #john bucky egan #mota fanfic #my writing #clevenhqfic #emo!gale #hs au

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trashbag-baby666 · 8 months ago

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Everett Blakely HC’s from my hs au!!! Liked and reblogs highly appreciated!

MOTA Masterlist!

•Everett grew up as an army brat, his father a retired naval aviator. His step mom a lawyer and she certainly was more like a mom to him than his actual one.

•His dad’s originally from Minnesota his step mom from San Diego. They met there while he was stationed there, they fell in love, got married, had two kids. Everett absolutely adores his younger brother and sister.

•They’re a very hug oriented family.

•Everett smokes cigarettes because he wants to be a indie tumblr girl, okay?

•god forbid his parents ever find out…

•Beginning of junior year he started dating this girl named Ava. But it wasn’t a healthy relationship at all, she was manipulative, mean, isolated him, sometimes she would hit him.

•When she would hang out with the group she’d go as far as making fun of Johns stimming.

•Gale had a bit of a falling out with Everett because of her.

•God, he felt so alone and now none of his friends wanted to talk to him.

•Curt removed him from the friend group chat.

•When Dougie didn’t say anything everyone knew this was serious.

•Everett spent his summer between junior year and senior year pretty much alone. Besides when he was with Ava but you know that wasn’t positive attention.

• Everett: wanna hang later?

• Dougie: sorry gotta work.

•Things came to a halting stop one specific day at the end of July.

•Everett had confronted her about how she was treating his friends and him.

• “God, Everett I didn’t mean it like that. You’re so dramatic.”

• “I’m not dramatic you’re being an ass! Do you not understand why your ‘jokes’ are so hurtful? You have no idea what it’s like to be Bucky, so stop with your comments.”

• “It’s not my fault your friends are a bunch of fucking freaks and fags.”

•Everett had heard enough at this point. He’s telling her to get out and she’s grabbing her stuff but oh my god she will not stop talking. Everett literally grabs her arm and hauls her ass to the door and slams it in her face.

•The beginning of summer football camp in August was a shit show to say the least.

•Everyone was mad at Everett and they were all off their game.

•Chick and Jack pulled Everett into their office after the end of the first week. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but you should talk with Buck and get this is all sorted out.”

•Everett showed up at Gales house that night asking to talk. Upon seeing, no Ava Gale let him in.

•Curt’s sitting on the couch with Ken tucked into his arm and Meatball in his lap but he’s shooting daggers at him. “What the fuck is he doing here, Buck?”

•Gale lets Everett explain and defend himself. Johns smashed in between Gale and Curt playing with Gales fidget ring. He’s silent and he doesn’t think he can bring himself to make eye contact or talk.

•Everett kinda breaks down crying at the end and John just comes over and rubs his back before whispering a small, “it’s okay I forgive you.”

•The fact that Meatball went over to comfort Everett won over Curt a little bit but he’s still got a hell of a lot of more trust gaining to do.

•Him and James spend a lot of time just sitting in his truck quietly together while music plays and they eat snacks.

•James can see that Everett’s cigarette problem has only gotten increasingly worse.

•He can see the way that Everett has became so flinchy to touch. They were always just so playful and naturally touchy with each other.

•I’ve rambled long enough but we know that these two make out…

•okay they have a really good character development arc I promise!

•Asks open for any questions regarding these!!!!

Brought to you by military la la land @mangokitkats @ihearteugeneroe

#i’m cannoning athena and bobby from 911 as his parents #with different careers #it just fits okay?#what’s waited till tomorrow starts tonight au #masters of the air #mota #hs au #everett blakely #james douglass #blakely/douglass

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bad-at-names-and-faces · 1 year ago

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Curses

ao3

ffn

chapter index

It was early morning, and the sunlight filtered through the edges of the curtains of the bedroom in Corona’s embassy in the Southern Isles. Inga thought of all the rooms where she had woken up. Most often in her own room in the castle in Arendelle, of course. Then she thought about the different curtains in the various rooms that she and her brothers would use while playing hide and seek as children. The curtains in each room were slightly different – different enough that she knew immediately the time she had woken up in a different room, even in the first moments of groggy confusion. She had left her crinoline in the middle of the floor, and James had to have seen it when he had come in that morning. Hiding under the covers had been futile. Henry had assured her no word had been spoken of that.

A few leaves hit the window, even though the trees near the embassy were already bare. As she opened the window, a note flew in. The paper was her mother’s personal stationery, but not her mother’s writing.

Arendelle

November 1st, 1875

Inga-

Please let us know how you are.

Love,

Aunt Elsa

Why would Elsa be writing from Arendelle? Did she know? Perhaps she knew what Henry had been doing. And if her aunt knew anything, then her parents surely knew now.

November 1st, 1875

Dear Mother,

I’m going to try to return home very soon. Perhaps I shouldn’t have left when I did. I hope the harvest festival went well without me there. Please hug the children for me.

Love,

Inga

Inga folded up her letter and sealed it. She couldn’t be sure if it was safe to send a letter, but she needed to let her family know that wherever she was, she was safe, or at least safe enough.

She opened the window. “Gale?” she whispered. There was nothing for a minute, and she had never sent a letter from this far away. Henry had never talked about a delay, but perhaps he was used to this.

Finally, a breeze blew in through the window.

“Please, get this to my mother,” she told the wind spirit. The breeze picked up the letter as she let go of it. “Thank you,” she murmured, closing the window.

Inga sank by the window, breaking down crying. Writing the date at the top of the letter, she had realized that it was almost their wedding anniversary. Did Henry remember? She desperately wanted to find him, but he would want her to be safe with her family; she knew this. Lars had mentioned the ship coming in a few days. As much as she didn’t consider Corona home, it would be safe. Safer than here. And their families needed to know what was going on.

She looked over at the wardrobe. Her travel dress had been cleaned and was hanging on the wardrobe door, ready to wear again. She would pull herself together. Whatever Lars and John had figured out while they were here, she needed to know. And what might they still be keeping quiet about Henry and the Ambassador from Corona? What could be gained from keeping it quiet that they were missing? Why not let people know what was going on?

***

Henry opened his eyes. He had lost count of the days he had been in this place now. How many weeks had it been? He wasn’t sure. They preferred not to tell him, and the guards laughed whenever he asked. From the tiny window near the ceiling of his cell, he could tell that it had stopped raining, and there was a tiny bit of sun. At least there was that.

He supposed he could be thankful that he had no real physical injuries, but it was a small consolation. As the days wore on, Henry's imagination went to all the things that could be happening to him here, but didn't. Perhaps he'd read a few too many adventure novels. This imprisonment of his was entirely too boring, just being stuck here with his thoughts. Maybe that was the point. He felt grateful that they were leaving him alone.

Henry's thoughts on the day in question went back and forth frequently. How could he let the man, the second in line to the throne here, get away with insulting his family and his wife’s family all in the same breath? Officially speaking, he and this man were in the same position, with only one person in line for the throne between the current monarch and their eventual succession. Of course, in Henry's case, that person was his mother, and he himself was unquestionably the next in line, with no disputes whatsoever on that matter. The Southern Isles could quickly solve its problem by allowing the daughter of the oldest son of the King to take the throne after him, but she had married the prince of some small territory that no longer existed. To Henry, that seemed like a situation beneficial to all involved, but nobody could agree to it, so here they were.

Henry had kept quiet on the matter for so long. He had visited the Southern Isles multiple times over the years and never once said a word insinuating bad doings on their part. There were occasional words from them hinting about their true feelings, but he could ignore those. He thought there had been an understanding; they would keep quiet about their thoughts about Inga’s family in Arendelle and his own family in Corona, and he could keep his feelings in check. But misunderstandings happened all the time. It had clearly been a good deal of luck, particularly the luck of not having met alone with the prince who was second in line before that day.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Henry of Corona,” the royal steward announced. Henry had been looking forward to meeting this particular prince of the Southern Isles. The second son of the King was one of the few he hadn’t met yet. If it weren’t such a sensitive subject, he would have joked to Inga that he wanted to have a prize when he’d met all of the sons. But that wouldn’t be a nice thing to joke about, not with her.

Henry responded with a light nod of his head, which the older man seemed to find insufficient. No matter. The old prince might have ten years on Henry’s father, but there was no difference in position. They were both second in line. Henry wasn’t about to give some show of groveling for the sake of this man’s feelings.

“Your Highness,” the elder prince sneered with a veneer of politeness, “I’ve heard so much about you, and now we finally meet.”

“I’ve been looking forward to this meeting,” Henry replied somewhat truthfully. After all, there were now only four princes of the Southern Isles he hadn’t met.

“Please, do sit down, Henry, and you may call me Ludvig,” the older prince began jovially.

“Thank you,” Henry acknowledged, sitting in the nearest chair, “Ludvig, you are very kind.”

“And where is your wife?” Prince Ludvig asked Henry, “I’ve heard so much about her, as well.”

"She is visiting her parents," Henry answered, not wishing to give more detail than necessary.

"Ah, will we be getting another announcement soon? My brother Klaus was telling me that always seems to be her excuse for not traveling."

"What do you mean?" Henry knew perfectly well what Prince Ludvig was talking about. The year before, when he had met with Prince Klaus, the third or fourth in line, it was hard to keep track. Inga had been pregnant, but that wasn't the real reason she hadn't traveled. Still, it wouldn't be very diplomatic to be fully honest: Henry’s own stories of his visits to the Southern Isles had only made his wife’s desire to stay away from the place stronger.

"Oh, excuse me," Prince Ludvig apologized. “It simply seems a pity that she is so rarely seen in public.”

“Never mind that,” Henry shrugged, not wanting to dwell. “Let’s get down to business. What did you wish to discuss with me?”

Prince Ludvig leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the pen in his hand. “You have a fine family, Prince Henry, you know that. You’re a lucky man.”

“Thank you,” Henry said, not sure if he was comfortable with where this was leading. “I understand your elder daughter just got married last month? Congratulations.”

“Ah, yes. Yes, thank you. I hope to find an appropriate match for the younger daughter soon enough.”

“I hope that she is interested in marriage, as well,” Henry commented, not particularly caring how Prince Ludvig took the statement.

“We had been, in fact, looking into the possibility of your wife’s oldest brother. It seems they met when he was residing in Corona.”

“Well, yes, but he’s married now,” Henry reminded him.

"Indeed. We had no idea until after the marriage had been settled."

"I assure you, it was not a sudden decision," Henry insisted, feeling more uncomfortable, but he wanted to believe this man, unlike the others, was simply making awkward conversation rather than leading into some inquiry into his wife's sisters. It seemed fairly certain to Henry that this was the only reason they asked for him personally and weren't satisfied to meet with Ambassador Pincar. Any discussion of fishing rights could have been settled without his help.

“It’s a pity that long engagements do not seem to be popular in Arendelle,” Prince Ludvig insinuated with a tone that implied he was thinking about more than the most recent wedding. “It's so much more proper, and the political implications are less sudden."

“They don’t believe in political matchmaking in Arendelle, and neither do we in Corona,” Henry insisted, “so there’s less negotiation.”

“Of course, of course, political gain is always beneficial when it happens.”

"I suppose that's true," Henry hemmed, knowing he couldn't exactly speak on the matter without sounding like a hypocrite. "At any rate, enough of personal matters. What did you wish to see me for today? As far as my family is concerned, I had promised mine I would be home yesterday. I stayed because your people were quite insistent that it was necessary for me to be here."

"I did not realize my request was such an imposition on your time."

"I apologize for sounding ungrateful, but most of the business with your family this month, beyond the simple railroad and fishing negotiations, has involved requests to introduce my wife's sisters, as if I am here for matchmaking. Our kingdoms are long past defeating the Huns, so official Royal Family presence seems superfluous."

"I had not intended such a thing, I promise," Prince Ludvig protested. "You will, of course, be sensitive to our family's current predicament."

"It seems like there could be a more sensible solution than all of this rushing to marry."

"There has been discussion of other possibilities, but we have not… how shall I put this? Exhausted the potential heirs."

Henry knew that the other prince was probably sounding evasive for a reason, but he would act naive and test out the more innocent explanation first. “Ah, yes, I remember that a few of your brothers who have taken colonial posts have unrecognized marriages. Will those marriages now be officially recognized?”

“Oh, well,” the prince said, clearing his throat, “there are certainly some factions looking to do that.”

“Factions? You talk like it’s some kind of civil war coming up.”

“One can never be too certain,” Prince Ludvig warned in a tone Henry found rather ominous. “As you may be aware, there has already been some amount of unrest.”

“Pincar was advising me of some of the mysterious deaths of heirs who might be made legitimate, yes.”

“Indeed. And there have been some unfortunate attacks based on misunderstandings. That is, in fact, related to why I was asking you here.”

“Go on…”

“Ludvig Holst would like you to attend the Opera tonight.”

“Who is Ludvig Holst?” The name meant nothing to him.

“Do you not read your own papers? Mr. Holst owns several of them in Corona.”

“They’re not my papers, then, they’re his. We do our best to ignore what’s written in those things. They do as they like.”

“Interesting. I often forget that you don’t keep your press in check. I strongly recommend it, as it would be in your interest to do so.”

“And Mr. Holst will help me with this?” Henry sneered. As much as he was getting annoyed with meetings like this one, at least the intentions here were somewhat in the open.

“He has things he would like to discuss with you.”

“If he owns several papers in Corona, perhaps he could discuss it with me when I return,” Henry interjected, not wanting yet more delays getting home. He would talk to Pincar, make him take over with anything in the Southern Isles. “If we have nothing more to discuss, I would like to be going.”

“Very well. Shall I call a carriage? I believe we brought you here in one of ours?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Henry picked at the meager rations they’d given him for his meal that day. His only regret was not being able to tell Inga where he was. Of course, he had no idea where he was. He wasn’t sure why they were keeping him, either, and he wondered what the story they might tell to the outside world. The carriage never did get him back to the embassy.

***

John walked with a group of the embassy staff who had the morning off, heading for the Pleasure Gardens. They had left before most people were even eating breakfast, to make the most of their time. John had pretty much learned anything he could about the schemes of the embassy servants from listening in on their dinner conversations. Anything more might give away the fact that he knew their language. Meeting some of the local acquaintances might help determine who these contacts were who had been offering bribes to the embassy servants, at least.

“Hey, cousin!” he heard one of the footmen call out. He looked across the avenue they were on and saw a young man walking over who bore a striking resemblance to the footman from the embassy.

“Oh! I have some news for you, but they can’t know,” the cousin said, nodding at the rest of the group. “And is this the American you told me about?”

“That’s him, yes,” the footman said.

The cousin looked John up and down before using what sounded like his best English. “You’re American? I work at their embassy. Where are you from in America?”

“Louisiana,” John replied with the answer he gave even when he wasn’t hiding anything. Most people in America weren’t especially interested that his family was originally from the West Indies colonies of the Southern Isles, but here, they’d be entirely too interested.

“Really?” the cousin asked. “Don’t they speak French there?”

“Everyone where I lived spoke Creole,” John said, somewhat truthfully. He spoke French, and only forced himself to speak Creole to avoid the taunting of the children in the fields. The master’s family spoke French whenever they had foreign visitors, and John’s mother had hopes that John might impress one of them and get to travel Europe. That was before the War, of course.

“What is Creole?” the cousin asked him.

John recited a children’s rhyme in Creole with the thickest accent he could muster, as far from his French as he could manage. His mother would hate it.

“That’s like no French I know,” the cousin laughed, then looking at the footman, switched to French. “I think we will be safe speaking French. None of the others know it.”

***

"Are we going to be alone?" Elsa asked when her sister let her into their room.

"Kristoff is here, and I assume anything you need to tell me-"

"Yes," Elsa replied quickly, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"What is it, then?" Kristoff asked, emerging from the bathroom, checking that his robe was on.

"So… I've told you before, I make a point of never spying…"

"Yes, of course," Anna acknowledged.

"You two should sit down," Elsa insisted.

When both of them were seated on the bed, Elsa closed her eyes and concentrated. In the middle of the room, a table appeared. Anna and Kristoff immediately recognized their daughter sitting to one side. The bearded man sitting to the other side took a moment longer to recognize, since they hadn't seen him in over a decade.

"Is that… Lars?" Anna gasped. "Where are they?"

Elsa put her finger to her lips.

“Perfect. The Portuguese ambassador to the Southern Isles and his wife are in the box next to ours.”

“And you want me to translate? Listen in on them?”

“Something like that.”

The conversation faded.

"What was that?" Kristoff asked.

"That," Elsa began to explain, "is Corona's embassy in the Southern Isles."

“Oh,” Anna swallowed, “that’s where Henry was supposed to be staying, but…”

“Wait,” Kristoff interrupted. “Do you know where he is?”

“I think he’s at the palace there,” Elsa said, “along with Corona’s ambassador. But no one is acknowledging that they’re even missing.”

“Did Inga know about this?” Anna asked. “She’s supposed to be at some spa resort. How did she get to the Southern Isles?”

“I don’t know,” Elsa said, “but did you know that she hadn’t heard from Henry?”

“She had mentioned something,” Anna said. “Have you been in touch with Rapunzel? I haven't heard from her recently… I would have thought Corona would know if anything was wrong.”

"I haven't told her anything,” Elsa told them. "They have, however, had problems with their telegraph lines. Particularly the lines to Corona. I don't think that's a coincidence."

***

"Have the foreign telegraph lines been fixed yet?" Rapunzel asked her father’s council member.

"What are you talking about?" the man replied.

"The telegraph lines? The ones that haven't been working for the last month?"

“Your Highness, the telegraph lines have all been working, well, almost all of them.”

“Almost all?”

“Well, the main telegraph line to the Southern Isles hasn’t been working. This is true.”

Rapunzel swallowed. This much she knew. She had sent her son Henry to the Southern Isles two months before, and she hadn’t heard from him in several weeks.

“Did anyone think that I might wish to know about this?” she asked the council member.

“It… it was a small matter. We’ve been looking into possible solutions.”

“Are you aware that we have had no communications of any kind from our embassy in the Southern Isles for nearly a month now?”

“I’m not in the habit of meeting with the foreign minister, Your Highness, so I was unaware.”

“You will excuse me, please,” she told him.

“Yes, Your Highness,” he replied, bowing before leaving the room.

She looked around the room; her ministers, it seemed, couldn’t be counted on to talk to each other when they worked in the same wing of the palace, and she was fairly certain she couldn’t trust the ambassador from the Southern Isles to tell her the truth. She needed to write to Elsa.

***

“Good morning, Lukas,” Anna said, entering the nursery. The little boy ran up to her for a hug, and she picked him up. The youngest was still asleep in the corner.

“Hello, Mormor!” Aggie said, popping out from the pillows stacked on his younger brother’s bed.

“Oh! Hello, Aggie! What are you doing in the nursery?”

“I was bored,” he shrugged.

“What about Arianna?”

“She was playing something else,” Aggie sighed. “I was looking for Aunt Elsa, but then I decided to see if Lukas was awake.”

“Well, he is, isn’t he?” Anna smiled.

“Mormor,” Aggie said seriously, “if Aunt Elsa is here, does that mean Mama will be back soon?”

Anna swallowed hard. He was a quiet boy, often keeping to himself. He usually didn’t say when things were bothering him, but it was obvious they did.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” she said, giving a squeeze to Lukas in her arms. “But let’s go find the others.”

Anna set Lukas down and he ran ahead of them down the hallway, while Aggie took her hand and walked more slowly.

Anna supposed that they should have one of the tutors start giving Aggie and Arianna lessons again. Inga never made them do any lessons when their father was away, but usually, he was only gone for a week or two, so it never was an issue. Aggie had only just turned eight, but in a few years, he would be expected to spend most of his time in Corona. He was, after all, the next in line after Henry. She valued the time they had with him in Arendelle, even if it wasn’t always under the best circumstances.

“Oh, hello Mother, hello Aggie,” Sofia said, walking down toward them with her sister Marie, “and hello Lukas,” she smiled, picking up the little boy who had just run to her.

“Hello,” Anna smiled. “Do you two have plans today? Marie, how are your studies?”

Marie looked up, frowning. “Do you have to ask that every time you see me?”

“I’m sorry,” Anna apologized sincerely. “You can tell me something else to ask you about.”

Sofia looked over meaningfully at Marie, who nodded at her older sister. “Mother,” Sofia said, “Marie’s tutors make her cry every day. And she doesn’t deserve it. She’s doing everything she’s supposed to.”

“What?�� Anna asked in shock. “Marie, why didn’t you say something?”

“What’s the point?” Marie snapped.

“Marie, we could get you new tutors,” Anna insisted, “but we can’t do that if you don’t tell us there’s a problem.”

“It’s just Madame Latrec,” Marie told her, “the others are fine.”

“Your French is perfectly good,” Anna assured her, “so if you don’t want to bother with a French tutor anymore, I don’t see why you need to do that. Sofia, do you know how Madame Latrec is with Karl and Linne?”

“When they show up, they’re fine,” Sofia laughed.

Anna tried to hide a smile. “We’ll worry about that later. I suspect Arianna makes that difficult right now. Maybe we should have her join in on lessons. Aggie, too.”

“Shouldn’t we wait until Inga gets back?” Sofia asked curiously.

“I think Arianna has gone without lessons long enough now,” Anna sighed, trying not to let on just how worried she was inside. “But for now, would you like to join us outside?”

The girls agreed, heading out with them to the brisk fall air. Aggie ran ahead to join them once they stepped out the door.

As Anna reached the garden, the wind briefly whipped up, and a letter landed in her hand.

***

Kristoff had noticed the unusual breeze when he stepped out of the stable. He was used to Gale coming fairly often by this point, but this seemed a bit more intense than a simple letter or visit, this felt urgent. He dropped what he was doing and followed straight to the garden.

He found Anna standing there, staring at the letter while Sofia and Marie played with Aggie and Lukas in the garden.

“Hey!” he called over, and the younger boy ran over to him. Kristoff picked up Lukas and sat him on his shoulders.

Anna came out of her daze enough to walk over to Kristoff.

“What is it?” Kristoff asked.

Anna carefully opened the letter in her hands.

“It’s from Inga,” she breathed.

“Where is she?” Kristoff asked, trying not to show his nerves.

“She doesn’t say,” Anna said, handing him the brief note, “but she says she shouldn’t have left when she did. She wouldn’t say that unless…”

“Something is wrong. Or a lot of things…”

“We need to find Elsa,” Anna said.

“Aunt Elsa?” little Lukas cooed from Kristoff’s shoulders.

Kristoff looked over at Aggie, who seemed to be engaged with the older girls. He hoped none of them had overheard.

***

Lars sat alone in the breakfast room. John had left early with staff who had the morning off, this time intending to stay with them to see what he could learn. John had brought up the newspaper to him before he had left, and Lars read the articles, seeing if they had printed anything remotely true. The papers here printed what was convenient to the royal family, which could often be very entertaining, but the entertainment was never at the expense of the House of Westergaard.

Inga walked in, looking alert, but hardly well-rested.

“Good morning,” Lars greeted her.

“Good morning,” she replied. “Is John here, too?”

Lars shook his head. “Not this morning. Some of the embassy staff have gone out for the morning, and he’s joined them.”

Inga nodded, going to the side table to get herself something to eat before sitting down across from him.

“Are you planning to do anything today, then?”

“It will depend on how John’s morning goes,” Lars told her.

Inga looked pensive, then set down the toast she had been nibbling on.

“I should mention that I wrote a short note to my mother this morning. I didn’t tell her my location-”

“She’ll see the postmark,” Lars protested, “how do you think-”

“No, Lars,” she interrupted, “I’ve failed to think through a lot of things recently, I admit that, but this isn’t one of them. There will be no postmark. I didn’t send it through the post.”

Lars raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

Inga nodded. “It’s how Henry was writing to me, at least until a few weeks ago.”

“You haven’t told me what it is,” Lars protested.

“Is there a safe place to talk?” Inga asked, looking around.

Lars looked at her. She had changed back into the very plain travel dress she had arrived in a few days before. She wouldn’t stand out. He stood up and waved for her to follow him.

They left through the front door, since he didn’t want to raise suspicions if someone was keeping an eye on him.

He offered Inga his arm, and they left through the front gate as if on a casual stroll on a sunny morning.

“So, how have you been sending letters?” he asked.

“How much do you know about the Enchanted Forest?” Inga asked.

“The stories I heard about the place when I lived in Corona were always a little vague,” Lars admitted. “John visited up north a few times while he was in Arendelle, though. He mentioned something about spirits, but there were… there were soon some more pressing matters, so I didn’t inquire further about that.”

Inga slowed down, frowning. “How did he manage to visit there? They have rules about outsiders.”

“Yes, I’m very aware of that. The rules of the autonomous zone were something I did learn about before I even arrived in Arendelle. I don’t think it’s necessary to expose the people who helped John visit. And, of course, your family is exempted from those rules, anyway.”

“Well, obviously,” Inga replied uncomfortably.

“Back to the topic at hand,” Lars said. “What does this have to do with the letters?”

“The wind spirit delivers letters for us,” Inga explained.

“How many people know about this? You said Henry has used it.”

“Yes. My mother, of course, and my aunt. My father knows, but rarely sends letters. Henry’s mother often uses it, even after Arendelle got a telegraph, because it’s not likely to have anyone spying.”

“This would explain quite a few things,” Lars acknowledged.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about this before,” Inga apologized. “I’m sorry things weren’t handled very well.”

Lars stayed silent. It had been nearly eleven years since Queen Anna had given him the ambassador position and he and Elizabeth had moved to America. There was no longer any point in worrying about the finer points of how the Queen had handled the situation. He realized he was probably scowling.

“Lars?” Inga asked.

“Sorry,” he replied.

“Why haven’t you gone to see… him… if you know where he lives?”

“Who?”

“You know exactly who I mean,” she said, stopping and looking pointedly at him.

“Why should I?” Lars asked. “What would be the point? I know who he is, I know where he is. John has told me anything I need to know about his life since then and that of his family, and there’s absolutely nothing I could want or need from him. My life is easier ignoring his existence.”

Inga started walking again. “I’d think… I don’t know, I’m not you, obviously, but I’d think if I were in your place, I’d want to know, to see for myself.”

“Well, you’re not me, are you? You’ve known your father your entire life, and you know that he is your father, and it’s obvious to everyone that he is your father, and…” Lars stopped. He wished he could go back and erase what he had just said. It wasn’t Inga’s fault, and nobody’s fault, not really.

“And what?” Inga asked.

Lars sighed. Now that he had said all that, he needed to finish. “He’s a good man.”

“Sorry,” Inga mumbled.

“No, no, I’m sorry. I let myself get upset about it. John offered to take me to see him once, years ago, before he had gone to Arendelle.”

“So he’s known all this time?”

“I told him very soon after meeting him,” Lars informed her. “He was looking to change his name, after all… Perhaps it wasn’t the most prudent decision on my part.”

“Oh,” Inga snorted. “It certainly would have raised some interesting questions, I have to admit, if he had shown up as John Westergard instead."

Lars nodded, giving a little bit of a smile. They walked on in silence for a while longer.

“We should probably return to the embassy,” he said. “Do you think you’ll get a reply soon?”

“If there’s a reply, it will find me,” she told him.

Lars took in a breath.

“There’s clearly a lot I don’t know.”

#frozen fanfic #kristanna #prince of two realms #1875 #OC Inga #OC Lars Nilsen

2 notes · View notes

mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years ago

Text

Robin and Gale Hood; Ben Hardy x reader Chap. 10

*Author’s note*

And here we are with the next chapter of Robin and Gale Hood guys. Now I’m thinking after I post up chap. 11 it’s either gonna be 2-3 more chapters after that idk I haven’t quite figured that part out yet, but hopefully soon I’ll have the next chapter up :) Also for King Richard I’m imagining a late 80′s early 90′s Roger Taylor look.

Warnings: extreme swearing C word is used here (and no I’m not meaning the other word for balls or a rooster), attempted murder, severe injury.

Chapter 10,

Return of the King

Taglist:

@simonedk

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@queendeakyy

@wormzteef

@sparkleslightlyy

@geek-and-proud

_________________________________________________________

“It can’t be……” Robin muttered.

“But it is.” Little John said as a smile spread across his face.

“Uncle Richard!” Marian proclaimed. All went quiet as the people cleared a path and slowly riding on top of his magnificent dark brown armored covered shire horse was King Richard himself.

Much like his son Prince James, king Richard was a handsome man. Piercing blue eyes that resembled the great ocean, hair still having a tint of blonde (but not as much as it did when he was younger), he wore a golden suit of armor with a lion crest at the center piece of his uniform, and a large sword sat at his side.

Looking at this middle aged man you could see that he was a true king. There was just this regalness about him, like a true lion.

As he walked forward towards the gallows, the people of Nottingham all bowed before him, even the Sheriff’s guards bowed before him. When he reached the gallows, the Sheriff, Sir Heston and Prince John all stared at him in shock.

“Richard, I—I did not expect you to…….” Prince John started but Richard snarled as he pointed at him.

“I’ll deal with you later.” Immediately Prince John coward to his knees as Richard’s eyes now turned to the Sheriff. “Now I ask again Sheriff, what is the meaning of all this?”

“A witch trial, your majesty.” He looked up towards his son who was protecting the so called ‘witch’ by shielding her with his own body.

“Were you willing to take my son along with her?”

“That was never my intention your majesty. I would never harm the future King.” The Sheriff tried to save his own hide by acting innocent.

King Richard spoke not a word as he dismounted from his horse onto the stage. He walked past the Sheriff and stood before his son. The two look-alikes stared at each other as Richard told his son.

“James, stand aside.”

“I won’t!”

“I know how you feel about these trials, but it is the law son.”

“I don’t care! She’s not a witch.”

“And how do you know that exactly?”

“Because this is the girl I fell in love with six years ago. The girl who’s always been on my mind even as you sent me away to London with Marian.” Richard’s eyes softly widened and he said.

“This is the girl? The one that broke your heart?”

“Yes. But that’s in the past now. Because I love her father.” All was silent in the village square.

“Your majesty. It’s clear that for six years your son has been under this witch’s spell, and…….” The Sheriff spoke into the King’s ear.

“Another word out of you and I’ll cut off your forked tongue!” Prince James threatened.

“How dare you speak to me……”

“And how dare you treat my son that way! Remember your place Sheriff!” The Sheriff backed off glaring at the young prince.

“Look around at what these two have done. They’ve oppressed the people and nearly killed an innocent woman without a proper trial. And she’s not just any ordinary woman. Her name is Gale Hood, sister of Robin Hood.”

James turned back towards Gale and pressed his forehead to hers as he wrapped his hand around the back of her head cradling it away from the stake.

“Together along with their friends, they’ve kept Nottingham from falling to ruins. Father would you willingly kill a hero of the people?” King Richard looked down at his people.

All of them looking up to their king, pleading for this execution to not happen. He then turned to see his niece locked up in a cage along with Robin Hood and his band giving him the same look. Finally he turned back to his son who held a fire in his eyes. A fire that was passionate about his beliefs and words.

Much like his late wife Queen Dominque.

King Richard withdrew his sword. Everyone waiting on bated breath on what would happen next, but to everyone’s surprise he held his sword in a surrender position.

“My son speaks with the wisdom beyond his years. When I returned to my kingdom I’ve seen anger and prejudice in my staff’s hearts. But he comes with courage and understanding. From this day forward; if there is to anymore killing, it will not start with my rein.” He placed his sword back into its saber.

He then turned to one of the guards down below and ordered him to release Gale and her friends as well as his niece.

The guard raced up and cut Gale from the stake and as soon as she was freed, James took her in his arms, spun her around and the two embraced each other tightly. The people of Nottingham all cheered for the renouncing claim of Gale’s blood.

Prince John couldn’t believe this and neither could the Sheriff.

“Do something you fool!” whispered Prince John harshly. The Sheriff glared at the prince and said to one of his loyal guards.

“Shoot them all down.”

“No.” the man said.

“What?”

“With King Richard back, we no longer follow you.”

“You’re insane. I gave you this position! You follow and obey me!” but none of his guards obeyed him. Only gathered around and dropped their bows at his feet.

Twitching his eye in anger he grabbed one of the crossbows and notched an arrow as he snarled.

“Fine. You won’t serve me so long as Richard is alive will you?” he aimed the crossbow right for King Richard’s head.

Gale looked towards the Sheriff and saw him getting ready to shoot at the King. She immediately got out of James’ embrace and cried out.

“NOOO!!!” she pushed King Richard out of the way, taking the arrow just above her right breast.

“GALE!!!!” Robin called from the ground. As Gale collapsed to the ground with the arrow in her chest, James knelt down beside her and held her in his arms.

The Sheriff’s eyes widened as one of his ex-guards snarled out.

“You shot the Prince’s love.”

“She-she stepped right…right into it. It was her own fault! Prince John! Heston! Tell them it wasn’t my fault!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I begged you not to kill her.” John shrugged nonchalantly.

“Prince James and Maid Marian were right all along!”

“We never should’ve believed either of you!”

“GET THEM!!” the three then tried to make a quick get away from the guards but all too quickly the people of Nottingham got to them and began to tear right through them angrily.

“UNHAND ME YOU FILTHY PEASANTS!!” the Sheriff exclaimed. He soon had the crossbow taken from him as Maid Marian stood over him and she proclaimed.

“Put them all in chains!”

“I’ll see you hanged for this you cunt!” the Sheriff growled.

“And sew this one’s mouth shut!” Marian said as amongst the people of Nottingham, the guards pulled the Sheriff away from Marian’s face.

Her pride soon turned back to fear as she raced up to join Robin, his friends, Arthur, James, Friar Tuck and her uncle up on the gallows to check on Gale.

Both James and Robin knelt down at Gale’s side each of them holding her hand. Friar Tuck and King Richard knelt down beside her head. Friar Tuck wiping her forehead as she kept hissing and groaning in pain.

“Sister, please just hold on. We’re going to get you help. Oh Friar Tuck please tell me she’ll be okay!” pleaded Robin.

“She’s a fighter, but I am no doctor Robin. All I can do is pray to the good Father that he’ll spare our beloved Gale.”

“Isn’t there any medical supplies your staff can use?” Little John asked.

“We have some but nothing that Gale needs. If we are to save her, she needs to go to London. There we might have a chance to save her.” Arthur said.

“Then prepare the royal carriages. Make sure we hook up the fastest horses we’ve got. There will be no stopping till we reach London.” King Richard said.

Within minutes the royal carriage was prepped and ready. Gale now lying on a small portable bedspread. The blanket covering up her bare body so that the arrow was the only thing being shown.

James came up and knelt down beside his love and took her hand in his. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and he told her.

“You’re gonna be alright my love. I promise. Just stay awake for me.”

“I’ve had worse than this.” Gale told him before hissing in pain.

“Try not to speak so much my love.” Robin soon came up and walked towards them. James kissed her hand before gently placing it down and walked away giving the two siblings some alone time. Robin knelt down beside his sister and stroked her cheek.

“You are either the single bravest woman I’ve ever seen. Or the craziest.”

“I learned from the best, brother.” Gale grinned weakly. “Will—will you come with me?” at that point Robin’s face grew solemn. He felt his sister’s hand touch his cheek and he said.

“Someone has to stay here and help rebuild Nottingham. Marian and I have elected to do just that.”

“Then……so will I.”

“No sister. You have to go to London.”

“But—but we promised each other we wouldn’t leave one another.” Gale said with tears in her eyes.

“And we never will. No matter what happens, I’ll always be with you. Just like you will with me. And—just like our mother always has.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his sister’s forehead.

He lingered on the kiss till he finally separated from her. The two siblings looking at each other teary eyed, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time they ever see each other again. As two of King Richard’s guards picked up the bed, Robin and Gale’s hands kept hold of each other till the distance finally forced them apart.

She was placed in the royal carriage with King Richard and Prince James.

“Godspeed Gale Hood.” Friar Tuck said as he gave his final prayer to Gale. The curtains closed around the royal coach and the coachman urged the horses onward and in a cloud of dust, the royal coach rode out of Nottingham straight to London.

The royal escorts rode up front to show that this was a dire emergency and that anyone on the path ahead needed to clear the way for the King.

Inside the coach, James kept his hand intwined with Gale’s, stroking the back of it and giving it a kiss every now and then. King Richard, who had been observing his son’s affections for the young female rouge, finally spoke to Gale.

“Answer me this child. Why did you take that arrow for me? Knowing you could die.”

“Father, Gale can’t……”

“I can speak James, just—not in so many words.” She then turned to the great King and replied. “People always do crazy things—when they’re in love.” Her eyes then shifted towards James who looked down at her with sad but loving eyes. Tears pooling behind his green orbs as he pressed her hand against his cheek. Richard reached his hand out and gently placed it on top of Gale’s head, softly stroking through her raven black hair.

“You’ll get the finest medical treatment London has to offer. I swear to you. England, my son, and I owe you a great debt Gale Hood.” Gale smiled tiredly before feeling the fever starting to take affect on her as she soon passed out.

James’ heart suddenly stopped as he looked down at his beloved in fear. He felt her forehead and winced at the sudden heat that radiated from her.

“She’s burning up father!” Richard reached for a bowl of water and a towel.

“Dab her lightly around her forehead and collarbone. It’ll have to do for now till we get to London.” James took the rag and wrung it out first before placing it onto her face.

“I can’t lose her. Not when I just got her back. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her again.” he wept as he continued to dab his beloved’s face with the damp cloth. Richard stared at his son with empathy.

He knew what his son was going through because he once went through that when he lost his beloved Queen years ago. That familiar feeling of heartbreak fearing that your soulmate will leave this world leaving you alone in this dark hell that was the living realm. Leaving nothing but pain and heartbreak in the wake of their death.

“Step on it will yah! Gale’s fever is spiking and we don’t have much time! Double time!” Richard banged on the roof of the royal coach, crying out to the coachman. He then turned to his son and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “I can promise you this my son. We will do all that we can to save your beloved. But you have to be strong for not only yourself, but for her.”

“Yes father.” Richard pressed his forehead against his son’s and the two of them stayed in that position for a moment before turning their attention back to Gale.

It took almost an entire day but just a few hours before dawn, the royal escort finally arrived at the heart of London. The horses charged through the gates of the castle that stood at the heart of the city and with no time to waste, Gale was brought in and taken to the medical wing.

She was now awake for a brief moment as a doctor was prepping to first remove the arrow from her chest before proceeding to heal the actual wound itself.

James was forced to wait outside because he vowed that he wouldn’t leave his love’s side for even a second. Even if he was forbidden to enter the room, he still wanted to be there for Gale.

Inside the room, the doctor had candles lite all over the room so that he could have the perfect lighting for what he needed to do. He first numbed the area with some oils and turned to Gale and said to her.

“The area’s sterilized. Now comes the hard and most agonizing part. Are you ready?” Gale nodded then the doctor took out a towel and Gale opened her mouth so that he could place the towel in her mouth to prevent her from getting lockjaw. Gale’s chest anxiously rose and fell at a heavy pace as the doctor reached out for the arrow and took hold of it.

Soon all that could be heard was a muffled but agonizing scream.

James covered his mouth with his hand, feeling his love’s pain almost as if it were his own. All he could hear was her agonizing screams and groans coming from the other side of the door.

As the sun began to rise, Gale’s screams and groans went silent.

17 notes · View notes

violetosprey · 6 years ago

Photo

I was in a drawing mood, so I decided to draw my OC Gale after her redesign. This is my personal tumblr so I can put it up if I want :P

Tried something different for fun. Sketched with pencil, then penned, scanned as pdf to computer, then used PhotoShop Elements and my ref sheet to fill in the blanks. Overall, I like how they came out.

Also I guess the chibi version I drew counts as the first time I drew her full-scale (feels like cheating since I can’t really do proportions right sooo went with a style where proportions are kind of skewed to begin with :P)

Also decided on her full name: Gale Fairway

I went with a name combination that doesn’t pop up in google search that’s both a plain sounding and unique last name.

Since she’s the OC I use for TDDUP with Marcus, I’m gonna jot some more notes down below for writing/character development practice. You can ignore.

This is more notes than writing and actual story here. These notes may be changed or rewritten later if I think of something more appealing.

Initially meeting Marcus/ First Impressions

Gale met Marcus in a bar. She was probably there with a friend chatting. Her friend headed off to the bathroom and a guy came over (very drunk) and tries to hit on Gale. He’s aggressive and/or unpleasant and she had a hard time getting him to leave her alone. Marcus cut in and got the guy to back off. He was a police officer at time, but just off duty. Probably flashed his badge to help get the guy to go away. Gale thanked him and Marcus offered to get her a drink. She politely declined and said she’d be leaving soon with her friend.

Marcus headed off to another end of the bar when Gale’s friend came back. Gale told her what happened. They chatted some more and her friend noted that Marcus was looking over every now and then and teased Gale that she was possibly missing out on “having some fun with a cop.” Gale was pretty inebriated at this point and admitted Marcus was hot, but figured she wasn’t up for a one-night stand that night. She was not dating anyone at the time, but didn’t really feel like she needed to get laid whenever the opportunity struck.

Gale and her friend started heading out and Marcus came over when they were outside to chat for a bit. Her friend hinted towards Gale one more time then had to take a phone call, leaving Gale and Marcus alone. Marcus got a little more forward and flirty this time, and alcohol + hot dude + cop + saved her from a guy earlier = “Oh why not, it’s just one night” for Gale.

Gale let her friend (who was ecstatic) know she’d be heading out with Marcus. Her friend left and Gale and Marcus chatted and did “other activities” that night *wiggles eyebrows*. (note: Not sure about location)

Fast forward to next morning. Gale was a little groggy from last night, but Marcus and her woke up in bed together. She tried to get up to get ready to leave, but Marcus kind of holds her back (in a safe, playful manner). Basically started teasing and smooth talking to try to get her phone #. She’s not up for the idea at first (kinda just thought it’d be a fling, and he said during the night he gets busy with work), but eventually she had other engagements to attend to, so she just gave in and quickly handed her number to him before she left.

Entering a relationship with Marcus

Funny enough, Marcus doesn’t call Gale for several days. She figured he was probably just playing around when he asked for her number and then focused on his work. She didn’t take it too much as a loss.

He did finally contact her though, and they met again over coffee. They hook up again a few days later at night and then get back to their respective work. This pattern repeats for awhile: lack of communication because of work (on both ends), meet up for hanging out or sex again, then back to work. At this point in time, Marcus is not was not being overbearing.

Marcus wasn’t actually the type of person Gale would go for when looking for a boyfriend. She tended to go for the more bookish types, maybe with a sense of humor (note: John from the game would actually be more of the type she’d usually date, meaning she tried something new with Marcus, and later went back to what she was comfortable with).

This happened enough though where they decided to actually start dating. From here on, Marcus puts in a little more effort to start texting/calling Gale more frequently. Gale found this sweet, especially because she knew how much of a workaholic he was.

Overtime, she noticed more sensitive sides of his personality as well (note: not sure if I want to make the “saved Munchie from a car engine” event before or after marriage- but Marcus should have shown SOME soft side prior to marriage).

Sex wise, Gale’s not actually the type that gets “adventurous,” but she started to open up a little more for Marcus (he could get a little “naughty”) since she really liked him.

Eventually, Gale would genuinely fall in love with Marcus and admitted to him after sex one night that she was a little afraid she wasn’t good enough for him. After all, he was attractive, confident, and had a successful career. (note: I have not decided on what Gale’s own career is at this point).

Marcus quickly held her and assured her he’d never leave her.

Extra Notes

So I’m doing this weird thing where Gale’s kind of getting developed “around” the relationship she has with Marcus. Many of her personality traits aren’t fully fleshed out with me yet. I’m seeing if it’s a little easier to come up with the story first and adjust her accordingly.

There’s a of couple traits about Marcus that are considered canon (I think) that I want to keep the same: 1) he has dated people beforehand, 2) he’s a workaholic, 3) he’s a “dirty cop” when it comes to sex :P and 4) he never physically hurt the MC prior to the kidnapping.

What I’m going for I guess is a...”slow burn” turn into a yandere for Marcus? The timeline I have no clue of honestly. I kind want Gale to have been married to Marcus for at LEAST a year (maybe more). For that to make sense though, I want to build it up to be believable why she was with him for so long. Gale met a guy who wasn’t her usual type, but fell in love with him because of his softer moments and the way he paid so much attention to her. Her own insecurity of losing Marcus at one point would be a key reason as to why she wouldn’t see certain warning signs early on.

She liked the attention he would give her at first. And even as it increased gradually, she’d just see it as him making an effort because their jobs don’t always let them be together. She gets a little blinded honestly by something “too good to be true.”

Now with Marcus I’ll be honest...I’m not EXACTLY sure in my head at what point he becomes a yandere. I don’t know if I consider him to have fell in love at first sight, but he’s a master manipulator who takes it very slow to work his way into Gale’s life completely. Or if he’s actually just a normal guy she’s dating at first because getting to know her more leads to him developing an obsession. I THINK I’m leaning towards the second. I say that because I kind of like the idea where Marcus has been with other people before without developing an obsession, and this would have just been another person he started to get along with and date, but it turns horrifying excessive later on.

It’s also too bad since I’m still fleshing out Gale, then I have no idea what Marcus likes about her :P

Otherwise, the beginning sounds like a pretty standard story opener. Nothing new or unusual. My lack of story skills prevent me from thinking about all the events in sequence. More so just key events and how the characters do or do not mesh together.

#yandere #male yandere #tddup #marcus de la cruz #electricpuke #gale #gale fairway #my oc #drawing practice #my art #own post

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alexphil323 · 4 years ago

Text

The Courtship of Miles Standish

The Courtship of Miles Standish 1858

The Courtship of Miles Standish I. Miles Standish

The Courtship of Miles Standish II. Love and Friendship

The Courtship of Miles Standish III. The Lover's Errand

The Courtship of Miles Standish IV. John Alden

The Courtship of Miles Standish V. The Sailing of the Mayflower

The Courtship of Miles Standish VI. Priscilla

The Courtship of Miles Standish VII. The March of Miles Standish

The Courtship of Miles Standish VIII. The Spinning-Wheel

The Courtship of Miles Standish IX. The Wedding-Day

Just in the gray of the dawn, as the mists uprose from the

meadows,

There was a stir and a sound in the slumbering village of

Plymouth;

Clanging and clicking of arms, and the order imperative,

"Forward!"

Given in tone suppressed, a tramp of feet, and then silence.

Figures ten, in the mist, marched slowly out of the village.

Standish the stalwart it was, with eight of his valorous army,

Led by their Indian guide, by Hobomok, friend of the white men,

Northward marching to quell the sudden revolt of the savage.

Giants they seemed in the mist, or the mighty men of King David;

Giants in heart they were, who believed in God and the Bible,--

Ay, who believed in the smiting of Midianites and Philistines.

Over them gleamed far off the crimson banners of morning;

Under them loud on the sands, the serried billows, advancing,

Fired along the line, and in regular order retreated.

Many a mile had they marched, when at length the village of

Plymouth

Woke from its sleep, and arose, intent on its manifold labors.

Sweet was the air and soft; and slowly the smoke from the

chimneys

Rose over roofs of thatch, and pointed steadily eastward;

Men came forth from the doors, and paused and talked of the

weather,

Said that the wind had changed, and was blowing fair for the

Mayflower;

Talked of their Captain's departure, and all the dangers that

menaced,

He being gone, the town, and what should be done in his absence.

Merrily sang the birds, and the tender voices of women

Consecrated with hymns the common cares of the household.

Out of the sea rose the sun, and the billows rejoiced at his

coming;

Beautiful were his feet on the purple tops of the mountains;

Beautiful on the sails of the Mayflower riding at anchor,

Battered and blackened and worn by all the storms of the winter.

Loosely against her masts was hanging and flapping her canvas,

Rent by so many gales, and patched by the hands of the sailors.

Suddenly from her side, as the sun rose over the ocean,

Darted a puff of smoke, and floated seaward; anon rang

Loud over field and forest the cannon's roar, and the echoes

Heard and repeated the sound, the signal-gun of departure!

Ah! but with louder echoes replied the hearts of the people!

Meekly, in voices subdued, the chapter was read from the Bible,

Meekly the prayer was begun, but ended in fervent entreaty!

Then from their houses in haste came forth the Pilgrims of

Plymouth,

Men and women and children, all hurrying down to the sea-shore,

Eager, with tearful eyes, to say farewell to the Mayflower,

Homeward bound o'er the sea, and leaving them here in the desert.

Foremost among them was Alden. All night he had lain without

slumber,

Turning and tossing about in the heat and unrest of his fever.

He had beheld Miles Standish, who came back late from the

council,

Stalking into the room, and heard him mutter and murmur,

Sometimes it seemed a prayer, and sometimes it sounded like

swearing.

Once he had come to the bed, and stood there a moment in silence;

Then he had turned away, and said: "I will not awake him;

Let him sleep on, it is best; for what is the use of more

talking!"

Then he extinguished the light, and threw himself down on his

pallet,

Dressed as he was, and ready to start at the break of the

morning,--

Covered himself with the cloak he had worn in his campaigns in

Flanders,--

Slept as a soldier sleeps in his bivouac, ready for action.

But with the dawn he arose; in the twilight Alden beheld him

Put on his corselet of steel, and all the rest of his armor,

Buckle about his waist his trusty blade of Damascus,

Take from the corner his musket, and so stride out of the

chamber.

Often the heart of the youth had burned and yearned to embrace

him,

Often his lips had essayed to speak, imploring for pardon;

All the old friendship came back, with its tender and grateful

emotions;

But his pride overmastered the nobler nature within him,--

Pride, and the sense of his wrong, and the burning fire of the

insult.

So he beheld his friend departing in anger, but spake not,

Saw him go forth to danger, perhaps to death, and he spake not!

Then he arose from his bed, and heard what the people were

saying,

Joined in the talk at the door, with Stephen and Richard and

Gilbert,

Joined in the morning prayer, and in the reading of Scripture,

And, with the others, in haste went hurrying down to the

sea-shore,

Down to the Plymouth Rock, that had been to their feet as a

door-step

Into a world unknown,--the corner-stone of a nation!

There with his boat was the Master, already a little impatient

Lest he should lose the tide, or the wind might shift to the

eastward,

Square-built, hearty, and strong, with an odor of ocean about

him,

Speaking with this one and that, and cramming letters and parcels

Into his pockets capacious, and messages mingled together

Into his narrow brain, till at last he was wholly bewildered.

Nearer the boat stood Alden, with one foot placed on the gunwale,

One still firm on the rock, and talking at times with the

sailors,

Seated erect on the thwarts, all ready and eager for starting.

He too was eager to go, and thus put an end to his anguish,

Thinking to fly from despair, that swifter than keel is or

canvas,

Thinking to drown in the sea the ghost that would rise and pursue

him.

But as he gazed on the crowd, he beheld the form of Priscilla

Standing dejected among them, unconscious of all that was

passing.

Fixed were her eyes upon his, as if she divined his intention,

Fixed with a look so sad, so reproachful, imploring, and patient,

That with a sudden revulsion his heart recoiled from its purpose,

As from the verge of a crag, where one step more is destruction.

Strange is the heart of man, with its quick, mysterious

instincts!

Strange is the life of man, and fatal or fated are moments,

Whereupon turn, as on hinges, the gates of the wall adamantine!

"Here I remain!" he exclaimed, as he looked at the heavens above

him,

Thanking the Lord whose breath had scattered the mist and the

madness,

Wherein, blind and lost, to death he was staggering headlong.

"Yonder snow-white cloud, that floats in the ether above me,

Seems like a hand that is pointing and beckoning over the ocean.

There is another hand, that is not so spectral and ghost-like,

Holding me, drawing me back, and clasping mine for protection.

Float, O hand of cloud, and vanish away in the ether!

Roll thyself up like a fist, to threaten and daunt me; I heed not

Either your warning or menace, or any omen of evil!

There is no land so sacred, no air so pure and so wholesome,

As is the air she breathes, and the soil that is pressed by her

footsteps.

Here for her sake will I stay, and like an invisible presence

Hover around her forever, protecting, supporting her weakness;

Yes! as my foot was the first that stepped on this rock at the

landing,

So, with the blessing of God, shall it be the last at the

leaving!"

Meanwhile the Master alert, but with dignified air and

important,

Scanning with watchful eye the tide and the wind and the weather,

Walked about on the sands, and the people crowded around him

Saying a few last words, and enforcing his careful remembrance.

Then, taking each by the hand, as if he were grasping a tiller,

Into the boat he sprang, and in haste shoved off to his vessel,

Glad in his heart to get rid of all this worry and flurry,

Glad to be gone from a land of sand and sickness and sorrow,

Short allowance of victual, and plenty of nothing but Gospel!

Lost in the sound of the oars was the last farewell of the

Pilgrims.

O strong hearts and true! not one went back in the Mayflower!

No, not one looked back, who had set his hand to this ploughing!

Soon were heard on board the shouts and songs of the sailors

Heaving the windlass round, and hoisting the ponderous anchor.

Then the yards were braced, and all sails set to the west-wind,

Blowing steady and strong; and the Mayflower sailed from the

harbor,

Rounded the point of the Gurnet, and leaving far to the southward

Island and cape of sand, and the Field of the First Encounter,

Took the wind on her quarter, and stood for the open Atlantic,

Borne on the send of the sea, and the swelling hearts of the

Pilgrims.

Long in silence they watched the receding sail of the vessel,

Much endeared to them all, as something living and human;

Then, as if filled with the spirit, and wrapt in a vision

prophetic,

Baring his hoary head, the excellent Elder of Plymouth

Said, "Let us pray!" and they prayed, and thanked the Lord and

took courage.

Mournfully sobbed the waves at the base of the rock, and above

them

Bowed and whispered the wheat on the hill of death, and their

kindred

Seemed to awake in their graves, and to join in the prayer that

they uttered.

Sun-illumined and white, on the eastern verge of the ocean

Gleamed the departing sail, like a marble slab in a graveyard;

Buried beneath it lay for ever all hope of escaping.

Lo! as they turned to depart, they saw the form of an Indian,

Watching them from the hill; but while they spake with each

other,

Pointing with outstretched hands, and saying, "Look!" he had

vanished.

So they returned to their homes; but Alden lingered a little,

Musing alone on the shore, and watching the wash of the billows

Round the base of the rock, and the sparkle and flash of the

sunshine,

Like the spirit of God, moving visibly over the waters.

0 notes

wajahat11122-blog · 5 years ago

Text

Mothers Day 2020

When Mother’s Day 2020 Date,Gifts,Quotes,Ideas,Cards,Posters,Brunch,Images Messages, presents,origin,events,activities,motivational quotes,history…….

Mothers Day

Mother’s Day is a festival respecting the mother of the family, just as parenthood, maternal bonds, and the impact of moms in the public eye.

On her exceptional day, tell your mother the amount she intends to you with these inspiring messages about motherhood.

Mothers Day Flowers

Mothers Day Flowers Probably the most mainstream flowers for Mothers Day are Carnations, Hydrangeas, Roses, Orchids, Tulips, Daisies, Lilies, Gardenias and Sunflowers. The most widely recognized or well known bloom relies upon which blossom is your mother’s top pick.

Mother’s Day Movie

Mothers Day Movie Sandy (Jennifer Aniston) is a worried, single mom who discovers that her ex is wedding a more youthful lady. Her companion Jesse (Kate Hudson) is a wellness crack who doesn’t disclose to her folks that she has a family. Bradley is a single man (Jason Sudeikis) who’s attempting to bring up two little girls all alone, while Miranda (Julia Roberts) is excessively occupied with her vocation to stress over having kids. At the point when their individual issues start reaching a critical stage, the Mother’s Day occasion takes on an exceptional significance.

Mothers Day 2020 UK

When is Mother’s Day in the UK in other years?

Future Mother’s Day in the UK dates

Event

Date

Mother’s Day in the UK 2020

Sunday, 22 March 2020

Mother’s Day in the UK 2021

Sunday, 14 March 2021

Mother’s Day in the UK 2022

Sunday, 27 March 2022

Mother’s Day in the UK 2023

Sunday, 19 March 2023

Mother’s Day in the UK 2024

Sunday, 10 March 2024

Past Mother’s Day in the UK dates

Event

Date

Mother’s Day in the UK 2019

Sunday, 31 March 2019

Mother’s Day in the UK 2018

Sunday, 11 March 2018

Mother’s Day in the UK 2017

Sunday, 26 March 2017

Mother’s Day in the UK 2016

Sunday, 6 March 2016

Mother’s Day in the UK 2015

Sunday, 15 March 2015

Mother’s Day Clipart

Mother’s Day in the United States

Mother’s Day in the United States is yearly hung on the second Sunday of May. It praises parenthood and it is an opportunity to acknowledge moms and mother figures. Numerous individuals give endowments, cards, blooms, sweets, a supper in a café or different treats to their mom and mom figures, including grandmas, extraordinary grandmas, stepmothers, and temporary moms.

Is Mother’s Day a Public Holiday

Mother’s Day is certifiably not an open occasion. It falls on Sunday, 10 May 2020 and most organizations follow customary Sunday opening times in the United States.

What Do People Do?

Numerous individuals send cards or endowments to their mom or mom figure or put forth an extraordinary attempt to visit her. Normal Mother’s Day endowments are blooms, chocolate, sweet, attire, gems and treats, for example, a magnificence treatment or outing to a spa. A few families sort out a trip for the entirety of their individuals or hold an extraordinary supper at home or in a café. In the days and weeks before Mother’s Day, numerous schools help their students to set up a high quality card or little present for their moms.

Public Life

Mother’s Day is certifiably not a government occasion. Associations, organizations and stores are open or shut, similarly as they are on some other Sunday in the year. Open travel frameworks rush to their ordinary Sunday plans. Cafés might be busier than expected, as certain individuals take their moms out for a treat.

Mothers Day Images

Mothers Day is always celebrated on 10 May every year with all enthusiasm and people around the world pay tribute to their mothers by spending time with them and give them gifts and sweets.

Mother’s Day Mexico

The first event of Mothers day in Mexico was observed in the year of 1922 on 10 May. Soon event took the boost and the people in Mexico start celebrating the Mothers Day in every year on 10 May.It also soon take religious importance as it always celebrated with the image of Madonna and child being displayed on Mothers Day.

Background

The roots of Mother’s Day are ascribed to various individuals. Many accept that two ladies, Julia Ward Howe and Anna Jarvis were significant in building up the custom of Mother’s Day in the United States. Different sources state that Juliet Calhoun Blakely started Mother’s Day in Albion, Michigan, in the late 1800s. Her children paid tribute to her every year and encouraged others to respect their moms.

Around 1870, Julia Ward Howe required Mother’s Day to be praised every year to empower pacifism and demobilization among ladies. It kept on being held in Boston for around ten years under her sponsorship, however ceased to exist after that.

Mothers day activities

In 1907, Anna Jarvis held a private Mother’s Day festivity in memory of her mom, Ann Jarvis, in Grafton, West Virginia. Ann Jarvis had sorted out “Mother’s Day Work Clubs” to improve health and neatness in the region where she lived. Anna Jarvis propelled a mission for Mother’s Day to be all the more broadly perceived. Her crusade was later monetarily upheld by John Wanamaker, a dress dealer from Philadelphia.

In 1908, she was instrumental in organizing an assistance in the Andrew’s Methodist Episcopal Church in Grafton, West Virginia, which was gone to by 407 youngsters and their moms. The congregation has now become the International Mother’s Day Shrine. It is a tribute to all moms and has been assigned as a National Historic Landmark.

Mother’s Day has become a day that spotlights on for the most part perceiving moms’ and mother figures’ jobs. Mother’s Day has likewise become an undeniably significant occasion for organizations as of late. This is especially valid for cafés and organizations assembling and selling cards and blessing things.

Mother’s Day Restaurant

Mother’s Day and Valentine’s Day are the busiest days of the year for cafés and bars. Goodness better believe it, young ladies need to have a ton of fun as well! You need to guarantee a noteworthy gathering in your bar or café for young ladies, moms, spouses, grandmas and their friends and family or family?

You probably won’t have the option to fulfill every one of them yet one thing is certain, you can offer to them what they like the most, and it’s a touch of care and a great deal of fun! Prepare during the current day !

Mother’s Day goes back to old history and is commended out of appreciation for moms, spouses and ladies’ impact in the public arena. In spite of the fact that on various dates, this occasion is praising everywhere throughout the world. In the USA it is celebrating on the subsequent Sunday in May and in different nations is likewise called Women’s Day and it is celebrating on various dates: eighth March, the primary Sunday in May, April 7, and so forth. On Women’s day same as on Mother’s Day individuals commending lady, a mother and her commitment in the advancement of the general public.

Mother’s Day Origin

Mother’s Day began as an anti-war movement.

Anna Jarvis is frequently credited with establishing Mother’s Day in the United States. Assigned as the subsequent Sunday in May by President Woodrow Wilson in 1914, parts of that occasion have since spread abroad, in some cases blending with nearby customs.

Mothers day ideas

Here are the list of some amazing mothers day ideas.

Head to the farmer market

Book a massage for her

Go out for brunch (mothers day brunch)

Take a cooking class

Mothers Day Gifts

Mothers Day Gift Ideas

Mothers Day Quotes

“A mother is your first companion, your closest companion, your eternity companion.” — Unknown

“At the point when you are taking a gander at your mom, you are taking a gander at the most flawless love you will ever know.” — Charley Benetto

“Mother is the heartbeat in the home; and without her, there is by all accounts no heart throb.” — Leroy Brownlow

“Moms resemble stick. In any event, when you can’t see them, despite everything they’re holding the family together.” — Susan Gale

“My Mother: She is wonderful, mellowed at the edges and tempered with a spine of steel. I need to develop old and resemble her. ” — Jodi Picoult

Happy Mothers Day Friend Funny

“Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little youngsters.” — William Makepeace Thackeray

“The impact of a mother in the lives of her youngsters is past computation.” — James E. Faust

“It might be conceivable to overlay unadulterated gold, yet who can make his mom increasingly lovely?” — Mahatma Gandhi

“There is no job in life that is more fundamental than that of parenthood.” — Elder M. Russell Ballard

Mothers Day Words From Daughter

“Youth blurs; love hangs; the leaves of kinship fall; A mother’s mystery trust outlasts them all.” — Oliver Wendell Holmes

“Parenthood is the flawless burden of being someone else’s beginning and end.” — Unknown

“No one but moms can think about the future since they bring forth it in their kids.” — Maxim Grosky

“My mom was my good example before I even comprehended what that word was.” — Lisa Leslie

“To portray my mom is expound on a typhoon in its ideal force.” — Maya Angelou

“Parenthood is the greatest bet on the planet. It is the brilliant life power. It’s immense and frightening – it’s a demonstration of limitless good faith.” — Gilda Radner

Mother’s Day Message

For mother’s day message here you can get the messages regarding the prestigious event.Here are some mothers day greetings.

“Happy Mothers Day! Much obliged to you for all that you’ve accomplished for us. It’s beyond what we can ever reimburse you!”

“I love you and wish you the best Mothers Day!”

“Wishing you a quiet and loosening up Mothers Day. You have the right to be spoiled!”

“Much obliged to you for each embrace, expression of support, and demonstration of adoration you’ve given me. Glad Mother’s Day!”

“Happy Mother’s Day! Much thanks to you for continually being the brilliant illustration of what I needed to resemble when I grew up!”

“Much obliged to you for giggling with us in the best of times and staying with us through the most noticeably terrible of times! What might we manage without you?”

“Raising me took a great deal of persistence and quality. A debt of gratitude is in order for keeping it together.”

“To Mom, with adoration, from your preferred kid.”

Belated Mothers Day Quotes

“Sorry on the off chance that I made you insane. I just did it since I love you!”

“A debt of gratitude is in order for enduring us! We love you like there’s no tomorrow.”

“Much obliged to you for being the main Mother on the planet who might adore an insane kid like me.”

“Cheerful Mother’s Day! I guarantee today I’ll get my room. Perhaps.”

“I needed to make you something unique this present Mother’s Day, so I chose to give you some harmony and calm.”

“Mother’s Day is each day when you have an endowment of a kid like me!”

“Cheerful Mother’s Day, and thank you for your administration. We salute you.”

“Cheerful Mother’s Day! We wouldn’t be here if not for you. Truly.”

Mothers Day Wishes

Much thanks to you for continually being there, Mom. Happy Mother’s Day!

Wishing all of you the adoration and satisfaction you so lavishly merit. I trust you have a cheerful Mother’s Day!

Cheerful Mother’s Day Mom! Much obliged to you for caring for us so well, I know it’s not in every case simple! We love you!

A debt of gratitude is in order for giving me the best things throughout everyday life: Your adoration, your consideration, and your cooking. Happy Mother’s Day!

Cheerful Mother’s day to the best mother ever. I love you to the moon and back once more!

Mom…. You’re really amazing! A debt of gratitude is in order for everything you do. Happy Mother’s Day!

To the most astounding mother in the whole universe… you! Cheerful Mother’s Day. Much obliged for being so amazing!

To the best mother on the planet, Happy Mother’s Day! Much obliged to you for being boss cook, advisor, cab driver, team promoter, and best all-round mother on the planet.

Mothers Day Meme

The best mothers day meme and quotes are available at Etandoz. See our amazing collection of Mothers day meme and enjoyed you day along with your family and especially with your mother.

Happy Mothers Day Speeches

May your Mother’s Day be loaded up with as much joy as you brought to my adolescence.

May all the affection you provided for us return to you a hundredfold on this unique day!

As a result of you, I am me. Happy Mothers Day!

Wishing you a fantastic Mother’s day! You’re really amazing mother I could have requested.

Wishing you an exceptionally uncommon Mothers Day. Much thanks to you for continually being there for me!

Cheerful Mothers Day to the best mother! We don’t state it enough, however we truly welcome all that you accomplish for us consistently. You are genuinely the magic that binds our family!

Cheerful Mother’s Day to the best mother on the planet! I love you!

I heart crafty things mothers day

Cheerful Mothers Day to you Mom, and thank you for all that you accomplish for our family. We’d be so lost without you. You’re really amazing!

Glad Mother’s Day to one *super* mom – we are so fortunate to have you! Much obliged for everything you do!

Cheerful Mother’s Day Mom! I feel so honored to have you as my mother. A debt of gratitude is in order for continually having confidence in me and accomplishing such a great deal for me. I love you!

Cheerful Mother’s Day to the most astonishing mama. A debt of gratitude is in order for all the diaper changes, dinner times (in any event, when I toss my nourishment on the floor), and unending outfit changes. You truly are stunning!

Mother, thank you for caring for us so well and making each day so much enjoyment. Have an exceptionally upbeat mother’s day!

We love you Mom! A debt of gratitude is in order for everything you accomplish for our family. We trust you have an exquisite Mother’s Day.

We trust you have an astonishing Mother’s Day, Mom, and that you feel really refreshing on your extraordinary day.

Cold Stone mothers day

Have an incredible Mother’s Day Mom! A debt of gratitude is in order for being such a super mother, you truly keep our family together. We love you!

To the best mother on the planet, Happy Mother’s Day. Have an incredible day!

Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, as are you! Upbeat Mother’s Day to the best mother on the planet, we love you!

Glad Mother’s Day to the best mother known to mankind!

Happy Mothers Day to ex girlfriend

– “We have arrived at a point where we can’t down. We recognize what the outcomes of not being as one are and we have settled on the choice to take separate ways.

Remember that you will consistently be essential to me. I wish you the best throughout everyday life. ”

– “Love feels when it is conveyed from inside, I would prefer not to keep deluding or making you think things that are not valid.

It is better that you exploit the time and offer your existence with somebody who genuinely values you as you seem to be. I realize we’ll be fine. ”

– “I know the sort of man you expect in your life, shockingly I have individual needs that I should visit and despite the fact that I know you’re a young lady who merits all the adoration the world, I can’t be who you need me to be.”

Mothers Day Date

Gregorian calendar

Occurrence

Dates

Country

Second Sunday of February

Feb 10, 2019

Feb 9, 2020

Feb 14, 2021

Norway

3 March

Georgia

8 March (with International Women’s Day)

Afghanistan

Albania

Armenia

Azerbaijan

Belarus

Bosnia and Herzegovina

Bulgaria

Burundi

Burkina Faso

Kazakhstan

Kosovo

Laos

Macedonia

Moldova

Montenegro

Romania

Russia

Serbia

Tajikistan

Uzbekistan

Vietnam

Fourth Sunday in Lent (Mothering Sunday)

31 Mar 2019

22 Mar 2020

14 Mar 2021

Guernsey

Ireland

Isle of Man

Jersey

Nigeria

United Kingdom

21 March

(Spring equinox)

Bahrain

Comoros

Djibouti

Egypt

Iraq

Jordan

Kuwait

Libya

Lebanon

Mauritania

Oman

Palestine

Qatar

Saudi Arabia

Somalia

Sudan

Syria

United Arab Emirates

Yemen

25 March

Slovenia

7 April (Annunciation day)

Armenia (Motherhood and Beauty Day)

First Sunday of May

May 5, 2019

May 3, 2020

May 2, 2021

Angola

Cape Verde

Hungary

Lithuania

Mozambique

Portugal

Spain

8 May

South Korea (Parents’ Day)

10 May

El Salvador

Guatemala

Mexico

Second Sunday of May

May 12, 2019

May 10, 2020

May 9, 2021

May 8, 2022

Anguilla

Antigua and Barbuda

Aruba

Australia

Austria

Bahamas

Bangladesh

Barbados

Belgium

Belize

Bermuda

Bhutan

Bonaire

Botswana

Brazil

Brunei

Canada

Cambodia

Cayman Islands

Central African Republic

Chad

Chile

China

Colombia

Congo, Dem. Rep.

Congo, Rep.

Cote d’Ivoire

Croatia

Cuba

Curaçao

Cyprus

Czech Republic

Denmark

Dominica

Ecuador

Equatorial Guinea

Estonia

Ethiopia

Faroe Islands

Fiji

Finland

Germany

Gabon

Gambia

Greenland

Ghana

Greece

Grenada

Guyana

Honduras

Hong Kong

Iceland

India

Italy

Jamaica

Japan

Kenya

Latvia

Liberia

Liechtenstein

Macau

Malaysia

Malta

Myanmar

Namibia

Netherlands

New Zealand

Pakistan

Papua New Guinea

Peru

Philippines

Puerto Rico

Saint Kitts and Nevis

Saint Lucia

Saint Vincent and the Grenadines

Samoa

Singapore

Sint Maarten

Slovakia

South Africa

Sri Lanka

Suriname

Switzerland

Taiwan

Tanzania

Tonga

Trinidad and Tobago

Turkey

Uganda

Ukraine

United States

Uruguay

Vietnam

Venezuela

Zambia

Zimbabwe

14 May

Benin

15 May

Paraguay (same day as

Día de la Patria

)

19 May

Kyrgyzstan (Russian: День матери, Kyrgyz: Энэ күнү)

22 May

Israel (new)

26 May

Poland (Polish: Dzień Matki)

27 May

Bolivia

Last Sunday of May (sometimes First Sunday of June if the last Sunday of May is Pentecost)

May 26, 2019

May 31, 2020

May 30, 2021

Algeria

Cameroon

Dominican Republic

France (First Sunday of June if Pentecost occurs on this day)

French Antilles (First Sunday of June if Pentecost occurs on this day)

Madagascar

Mali

Morocco

Niger

Haiti

Mauritius

Senegal

Sweden

Tunisia

30 May

Nicaragua

1 June

Mongolia (together with Children’s Day)

Second Sunday of June

Jun 9, 2019

Jun 14, 2020

Jun 13, 2021

Luxembourg

First Monday of July

Jul 1, 2019

Jul 6, 2020

Jul 5, 2021

South Sudan

12 August

Thailand (birthday of Queen Sirikit)

15 August (Assumption of Mary)

Costa Rica

Antwerp (Belgium)

14 October

Belarus (since 1996)

15 October

Malawi (Observed on 15 October or following work day)

Third Sunday of October

Oct 20, 2019

Oct 18, 2020

Oct 17, 2021

Argentina (Día de la Madre)

3 November

Timor Leste

16 November

North Korea

Last Sunday of November

Russia

8 December (Feast of the Immaculate Conception)

Panama

22 December

Indonesia

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crosbyru-blog · 6 years ago

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Snowball express: Ford Fiesta ST vs. Cortina D'Ampezzo

Cortina d’Ampezzo, in the heart of the Dolomites, hosted the 1956 Winter Olympics When Ford named a car after a Winter Olympics place, nobody envisioned an F1 champion driving it down a bobsleigh run. But that is what happened. We revisit the website 55 years on Former world champion Jim Clark says it is the most exciting game he has ever tackled. But if you have any doubts, he urges”a Cortina, plenty of nerve, and airplane tickets to Italy for you — and your doctor.” You can read about this audacious (read foolhardy) event at the bottom of this page. Fifty-five years on, we are taking one of Ford’s current stars, the appropriately game Ford Fiesta ST, to revisit the site of the historical madness. Following a night-time handover at Treviso Airport, our eager little three-door ST lbs up the empty Autostrada before climbing deep into the Dolomites to the chic ski resort of Cortina d’Ampezzo, home of the 1956 Winter Olympics and regional epicentre for la dolce vita. There’s a particular excitement to coming somewhere scenic in the dark, and we bed down in a hotel with all the city’s landmark bell tower in anticipation of what sunrise will reveal. And rightly so. The next day, drifting wisps of mist can not hide the huge, broken crags of limestone which cradle the Ampezzo Valley, their haywire structures jutting at all angles, barely softened by January’s snow. At the base of the Tofane range on the north edge of town, we meet Gianfranco Rezzadore, president of Bob Club Cortina and former Italian international bobsleigh driver. Our rendezvous is Bob Bar, a tiny wooden shack and neighborhood hang-out nestled beside the Eugenio Monti bob track’s finish. Founded almost a century ago, the course has been 1700 metres long by the 1956 Winter Games, with 16 turns and a 152m vertical fall. Unchanged by 1964, it was only wide enough to accommodate a Ford Cortina. The track has been shortened, narrowed and artificially refrigerated from 1979 (until then, ice and snow were hand-packed) but closed in 2008. He says bobs used to hit 80mph on track, and that centrifugal forces pushed 4g through his spine on the’Cristallo’ hairpin:”I was taller.” Rezzadore’s sceptical that the Ford Cortinas attained the 50mph-plus maintained from the newsreel, but the risks were quite real. Back then, the huge, banked corners — easily double my height — had no flat safety barriers above them. At times, the cars ran almost vertically along what were walls of death: sleighs have abandoned this route with fatal consequences, including throughout the filming of For Your Eyes Only in 1981. Turning to look back down, it disturbs me how anyone — let alone a valuable sporting professional — might have driven an unmodified, carburetted family saloon with woolly steering, rear cart springs and 1960s tyre compounds down in the snow. Different times indeed. This is where group photographs were shot, Clark embellishing his race overalls and iconic two-tone lid with a fetching cable-knit sweater, before the cars took to the icy helter-skelter. With the straights now barely wide enough for a bobsleigh, we’ll enjoy no such mischief — but we have another plan to receive our alpine thrills while we’re here. You see, Cortina was a haven for racing drivers long before Clark et al arrived. Most famously, the Coppa d’Oro delle Dolomiti road race was based in the town each July for 10 post-war years along a 189- mile mountain route. The thought of period sports cars from Alfa Romeo, Lancia, Maserati and Ferrari thrashing between those peaks is spine-tingling. Nowadays, regularity rallies are the next best thing, and we are going to trace the very best bit of this WinteRace — an annual, snow-bound classic car rally whose seventh edition kicks off from Cortina this Friday. Its organisers point us towards part of the route that strings together a series of mountain passes to the west. Soon after dawn the next day, we burble out of town onto a smooth, rising back street towards the first summit at Passo di Giau. We are immediately met with hairpins — lots of them. Between corners, the Fiesta’s 197bhp, 1.5-litre blown triple supplies ample thrust. Such will be the incline, short straights and gearing which I’m mostly riding second, the engine climbing from 2000rpm to 6000rpm and back without complaint nor more than fleeting inductive hesitation. When shifting is required, the short-throw gearbox activity is neat and doesn’t mind being rushed. I don’t really need the sharpened throttle, heightened mapping and bass-drum overrun of Sport mode, and Regular’s Faster steering feels more natural, so I stick with that. Turn-in is immediate, and while the sub-zero temperature and glistening asphalt stop our Performance Pack-equipped car from grapple-hooking round the corners as it might on a dry British B-road, the Quaife limited-slip differential at least puts paid to any ungainly front-end scrambling — instead, it gently and progressively runs wide until a throttle lift clips us back into line. Body control impresses also — at these moderate speeds, long-wave lumps are tidily parried and roll hardly registers. But grit soon starts pinging off the underside, and past the treeline hefty snowbanks flank the street and glassy strips of ice leach across it. The banks close in to leave barely a car’s width of blacktop as we nip beyond a vented snowplough that is spewing a suspended white arc down the mountainside. Moments later the road disappears, so it is steady with the throttle to keep momentum, then a little patch of black allows us add sufficient speed to crest the summit. Around here, it’s compulsory to have winter tyres or chains from November to April. Our car comes with the latter, so 2236m above sea level and with frost-tingled fingers (it is –5deg C), we’re reading how to attach our’Maggi Trak Auto’ snow chains to front tyres. In a pattern that gets swifter as the afternoon progresses, we hook them up and shuffle around to feel them out. From outside, the chains make the merry jangle of Saint Nick’s sleigh, but at the cabin the continuous rumble of graunching snow is underscored by a locomotive clickety-clack. Crucially, however, they supply the purchase the Fiesta should claw itself onwards. Before pressing on, we take a moment to drink in our location. The pass sits under sky-scraping Monte Nuvolau, and I can see zig-zagging footpaths from the scree that lead climbers into the foot of its perilous vertical faces. On the summit’s far side 339m above us is an eagle’s nest of a wooden hut out of 1883 — after a military appearance, it now welcomes daring climbers. Our route down is a perfect sequence of hairpins with barely a directly between and, as the snow clears within a few hundred metres, it’s off with the chains and upward with the speed. We carve down the mountain, past the first of countless ski areas and along frozen streams, then barely touch the valley floor and begin rising again. We join a wider road with fast sweepers that the Fiesta gobbles up before the Tarmac starts to writhe again. Subsident lumps and bumps don’t worry the chassis, while broken, frost-fissured stains of Tarmac reveal its company setup, though without undue resonance. Year-round trench warfare with this terrain defies contemplation. The road flits between clear straights and snowbound corners, so it is on with the chains again, the heavily cambered corners helping press us to the surface as we clamber on up. It’s blowing a gale as wind funnels through the 2239m summit’s saddle, so we don’t tarry. The snow thins on the descent, so we eliminate the wheel jewellery for another slalom whose switchbacks and kinks do not let up for three complete miles, plunging from windswept mountainside to sheltered forest. Trunk-shaped dents in the Armco denote the enduring timber trade; before the early 1900s tourism boom helped invent this road, wood was rather transported by the area’s numerous ice-blue rivers. Rising again to Passo Sella (2244m), we pause on a scenic hairpin so photographer Luc Lacey can capture the jagged skyline beyond. There aren’t any other cars, and there isn’t any sound but for the creaking Armco and a whirling snow devil whispering by. It is one of those moments to feel small. The pass itself is an ice-free up and down, then we barrel along the smooth, tree-lined Val Gardena road, skirting bizarre, precarious-looking rock formations so tall and so intense that I get dizzy peering up their walls. Winding upward again, we dive swiftly between second and third gears before cresting spectacular Passo Gardena at 2115m where, since the sunset turns peaks into molten lava, a few well-heeled skiers hitch a helicopter ride down the valley before the weather turns. Even with chains reinstalled, it’s tricky going, the road dipping and diving up to it spins. Approaching one particularly evil left-hander, the naked rear tyres try to overtake the fronts in front of a delicate dose of throttle straightens us out. Once below the snowline, we veer east again under a freezing, clear sky, the crescent moon peeping between peaks as we home in on the welcoming lights of Cortina. It has been a brilliant drive and, unlike our counterparts from 1964, we have maintained our borrowed Ford largely horizontal and completely undamaged. Mind you, there is one remaining Olympic bobsleigh track wide enough to drive a car down. We just need them to launch the Ford St Moritz. The 1964 Salute to Cortina Champions celebrated more than 200 aggressive wins in 26 countries for the humble Ford Cortina, launched just two decades before. Alongside Jim Clark, the area of 19 drivers included luminaries such as Colin Chapman, John Whitmore, Jack Sears, Vic Elford, Eric Jackson, neighborhood Olympic sledder Lino Zanettin and rate polymath Henry Taylor — a British bobsleigh team captain turned Formula 1 pilot turned Ford works saloon racer. Their challenge was to navigate a half-mile section of the Cortina d’Ampezzo bobsleigh track used for the 1956 Winter Olympics in a collection of two- and four-door Cortinas. The cars came in road-going GT trim, which meant an uprated, 78bhp version of the 1498cc Kent four-pot with a Cosworth camshaft and a kerb weight of 864kg — though some baited gravity by forcing four-up. As for the results, a Ford insider reported:”It was never designed to be competitive but rather a celebration of the Cortina’s successes. But, it quickly developed into a game between the race and rally drivers, with each side doing much more runs than initially envisaged. The Cortinas were absolutely bog-standard — with the result that the front suspension struts broke through the top mounts” Competitive spirits thus unsated, a snowball fight broke out, during which Clark slipped a disk in his back, causing him to wear a corset for the following South African Grand Prix (which he won). He really did want that doctor after all. Jim Clark: how Autocar remembered an F1 legend Driving Britain’s best streets in a Ford Fiesta ST Ford Fiesta ST review The post Snowball express: Ford Fiesta ST vs. Cortina D'Ampezzo appeared first on Auto Note Buyer - Sell Your Auto Notes For Cash. https://autonotebuyerinc.com/snowball-express-ford-fiesta-st-vs-cortina-dampezzo/

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rqsser · 8 months ago

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tutor!gale and in-need-of-tutor!john au repost with the new account🙏

John walks through to the library with his eyebrows pinched together and his eyes trained on the floor. He doesn't need to be tutored. He's still passing! Just not as well as his parents would like him to be.

The library is fairly empty. There's a few groups of students sitting together, either studying or just chatting quietly. A few others sit alone, on their phones or doing homework.

He's quite embarrassed to be here. A damn football player doesn't need tutoring!

John glances down at the email he has open on his phone. 'Gale will be sitting at one of the tables near the librarian's desk with some of your handed in work,' the message from his teacher reads. Begrudgingly, John stalks through the tall book shelves over to the front desk.

Honestly, he's expecting some tall, lanky guy with thick-rimmed glasses. Maybe braces to add to his stereotypical imagination.

When he rounds the corner, his eyes land on the only occupied table in that area. The guy is sitting with his head rested in his hand and looking down at what John can only presume is his past schoolwork.

John sighs through his nose before he walks closer to introduce himself. Only an hour and a half twice a week, he tells himself.

"Hi," John says awkwardly when he arrives at the table.

The guy looks up, and John's heart stops.

Where's the nerdy looking person that would get bullied in a movie? Why is he gorgeous?

He smiles at John. "You must be John. I'm your tutor, Gale Cleven." The guy, Gale, reaches out his hand for John to shake.

His hair falls over his forehead to cover his eyes slightly. God, why does his tutor have to be so damn beautiful? Now he can't skip sessions.

“Take a seat,” Gale says while looking back down at the paper. John probably half-assed it. Quite embarrassing given his current position. “I’ll give you a general idea of what we’ll do once I finish looking over this.”

John sits in the chair across from Gale. He watches his tutor for a moment. The way he holds the corner of the sheet up from the table; why are his hands so… good looking? Is John allowed to think that?

Awkwardly, after Gale glances up at him, John pulls his phone out of his pocket. He tries to look busy for the long two minutes that Gale takes to finish up. The settings app is very interesting.

“Okay, John,” Gale starts. He catches John’s attention immediately, not that he was deep into his phone. “I think that we should start with something that you’re not doing the greatest in, but not your absolute worst. I don’t want to overwhelm you by starting immediately with a class that you struggled in, like…” he pulls a different paper in front of him, “calc-twenty.”

All John can do is nod, even a little dumbly. He understands every word coming out of Gale’s mouth, he just isn’t doing the best with comprehension right now.

“All right! I do tutor other students in all grades, but I still would like to know what days are best for you.” The way Gale’s stare is unwavering and patient makes John nervous for a whole new reason.

John looks down at the gray table, trying to remember his schedule. “Um… I have football practice on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. If you don’t mind anything after six, I guess those days could work too.”

Gale nods at him. “Hm. Where would you prefer our sessions to be? In a public setting, like this library, or something more private?”

Christ, this guy thinks of everything. “I mean, I don’t really care? The library works just fine.”

“Okay. I was just asking because sometimes people are self-conscious about the fact that they need tutoring and don’t particularly enjoy people being able to see, you know?”

That’s a very good reason. John can handle others glancing his way when he’s studying. They might even think that he’s lucky enough to just be hanging out with this gorgeous man. This gorgeous man with a very familiar face, now that John thinks about it.

“Hey, I’ve seen you somewhere. Are you on any teams or in clubs?”

Gale looks him in the eyes. “I’m the student body president.” Well, John feels stupid now.

“Ah, makes sense. I always remember pretty faces.” John clams his mouth shut. He doesn’t mean to blurt that last part. Holy shit.

His tutor opens and closes his mouth before answering, “I tend to remember similar things too, Mister Egan.” He smiles at him, then continues like it was nothing. “I can meet you here in the library around this spot on… Wednesdays at six-thirty and Tuesdays right after school, if that works with you.”

John doesn’t know how he did that. His heart is jack-rabbiting in his chest. Just barely, John manages, “Yeah.”

Gale’s pleasant smile shifts just slightly, into a sly smirk. “I’ll give you my number, that way you can tell me if you can’t make it or need help when you’re studying by yourself.” He pulls his phone out of his hoodie pocket.

A deep breath. “Okay, yeah.”

John leaves the library an hour and twenty-one minutes later with confidence in his academic abilities, and the number of a cute boy in his phone.

—

“No, Curt, I’m telling you! I was so pissed about having a tutor until I saw him!” John argues his case, which Curt seems to have given up on denying a while ago.

“Yeah, you’ve said it a few times now. This guy’s got pretty privilege and now you’re gay. What’s his name anyway?” Curt asks boredly. He sounds like he’s about to hang up if John says another word of ‘how hot my tutor is!’

“Gale. I didn’t get his last name—”

“Gale? Gale ‘the student body president’ Cleven?” His voice sounds absolutely astonished and amused.

“Well, yeah. He mentioned that he's on the student council,” John mumbles, feeling very much made fun of.

“Jesus, John, he’s practically got a whole fan club. That and he’s never put any of his focus into a relationship. Good luck with this one.” Curt’s unashamedly laughing at John now.

He has the gull to scoff, ready to defend his point again. Gale should have a fan club, he’s smart, kind, considerate, probably funny, and attractive. The whole package, honestly. So much for having a breakdown over finding out he wants to bed a man. Sure, he’s found men attractive, but no man like Gale has entered his life before.

“Please, stop thinking about your boyfriend naked. I’d like to hear you being sane and not completely delusional,” Curt’s voice came from his phone speakers, pulling John from his thoughts.

“I am not—”

John can practically hear Curt’s eye roll. “Whatever you want to tell yourself, then. We all know the truth. Johnny-boy is in love with the student body president! As basically half the student population is! You really never can be the original, can you?”

this is more extended from the one i originally posted!!

#buck x bucky #my writing #clegan #high school au #mota #hs au #masters of the air #mota fanfic #gale buck cleven #john bucky egan #curtis biddick #clevenhqfic

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crosbyru-blog · 6 years ago

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Snowball express: Ford Fiesta ST vs. Cortina D'Ampezzo

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