#a heat wave when it's literally like 50 degrees for me right now

[johnsbleu]

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 161

warnings: a few nsfw moments hmh masterlist

New York is currently having a heat wave, which means it’s a lazy day at the Wick household. It’s far too hot to go outside and do anything other than swimming in the pool for maybe 30 minutes. It’s so hot that being in the sun for longer than necessary just makes you feel nauseous, and with a baby, it’s not the best idea, so that means you’re pretty much just hanging out in the house.

“Sure would suck if the A/C went out,” you say, and John looks over at you and laughs, “I jinxed it, didn’t I?”

John nods, “Yeah, probably. Thanks for that.”

“I’m very grumpy when I’m hot, just a heads up.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” he says, and you narrow your eyes, “You’re very grumpy.”

You throw your hands up a little, “You make me sound like I’m just awful!”

“You do that all on your own,” he says, and you gasp loudly, to which he laughs and rushes over to hug you. “I’m kidding!”

“Well, sometimes you’re grumpy too!” you say as he clings to you, “You’re grumpy if you don’t have your coffee in the morning, which is so cliche, babe.”

John laughs as he squeezes you before letting go, “Never said I didn’t get grumpy.”

“Take back what you said, Wick.”

He teases, “Or what?”

You raise your brows and glance over at the very fancy and expensive espresso machine that John loves, “I’ll dump water all over it.”

“You wouldn’t! You love it too!” he says, and you start to laugh. He pulls you back to him and kisses you tenderly, “I love grumpy Mrs. Wick very much. You know that. She’s feisty, and you know what?”

“What?”

He leans closer to your ear, “She makes me hard.”

“Nope!” you push out of his arms and back away, “We are not starting the day off like this! It’s too hot already.”

John laughs, “Fine!”

You smile at him and kiss him before he walks over and finishes what he was doing. You look down to see Ronan coming back into the kitchen with the plastic cup you gave her, and you ruffle her hair as she babbles. You lean against the counter and look across it as John finishes putting away the last of the dishes from the dishwasher, then you smile when he looks at you.

“What now?”

“I don’t know,” you laugh as you shrug, “We’ve watched just about every movie this week, and we’ve completely cleaned the house, so there’s not really much else we can do.”

John nods, “Kind of sick of being cooped up in the house. Maybe we can find an aquarium or museum to go to.”

“Sounds good to me,” you smile, then you reach down and pick of Ronan, “How does that sound? Does that sound fun?”

Ronan smiles and squeals loudly, then she hides in the crook of your neck as soon as John starts to walk over. He wraps his arm around your waist and makes a loud chomping noise as he leans closer, then he pretends to chew on Ronan’s chunky little foot.

“Oh, daddy got you, huh?” you laugh, and Ronan reaches out so John will take her. “So, where should we go?”

“Anywhere,” he says, and you roll your eyes playfully. He smiles as he pulls you closer by your waist, then he moves his hand down to your ass, “Have I told you today how beautiful you are?”

You tilt your head and squint, “Alright, Wick, ‘fess up.”

“I didn’t do anything!” he laughs, and you shake your head and laugh. He looks at Ronan and bounces her, “Isn’t momma beautiful?”

At the mention of you, Ronan looks at you and leans over for you to take her, and you let out a small laugh as you hug her in your arms.

Ronan loves going back and forth between you and John, so most of the time, it’s just you and John passing her off to one another. She’s your baby, and you’re not going to feel guilty about holding her when she actually wants to be held.

“Well, if we want to go somewhere this afternoon, we should figure it out soon because she’ll need a nap in a bit.” you say, and John nods his head.

“How about we go a little later after her nap, then we can get some dinner too?” he says, and you nod your head as you smile. “Sound good?”

You nod as you bounce Ronan, “Sounds great. I’m gonna get her changed, can you get her bottle?”

“Yes, ma’am.” John says, leaning down to kiss you.

Holding Ronan in your arms, you walk into the living room and set her down on the couch to quickly change her diaper. She kicks her legs and flails around a little, but she finally sits still long enough for you to change her into a new diaper. She’s been quite the daddy’s girl lately, so she loves to be fed by her favorite guy.

John comes out with her bottle and smiles as you stand up from the couch with her in your arms, then he takes her after you’ve given her a kiss. You follow them upstairs and watch as John sits down in the rocker in the corner to feed her, and you smile when Ronan reaches up to rub her fingers against John’s beard.

Whenever you feed her, she usually tugs at your hair and John’s beard. He never keeps it too long so at least it doesn’t hurt. She’s not The Hulk strength-wise but damn, she has a little grip on her sometimes. She grabbed a strand of hair one day and tugged so hard, you nearly cried and ran to John to make sure you didn’t have a bald spot.

You walk over to close the curtains in Ronan’s room, then you turn on her fan for the white noise and to keep her room cool. You look over as John rocks her and smiles as he looks down at her, then he nods for you to join him. You sit down on the footstool and lean over to look at Ronan as she struggles to keep her eyes open, and you reach out to rub your finger against her chubby cheek as her eyes finally shut.

“She falls asleep just about as fast as you,” John jokes, and you let out a small laugh. “And she looks beautiful, just her mom.”

You smile softly as you look at him, then you lean up to kiss him a few times, “Thanks.”

John smiles at you, then he takes the bottle from Ronan and sets it aside before he gets up and walks over to put Ronan in her bed, but not before the two of you give her a little kiss.

“Goodnight, baby girl.”

“Night, bug.” you smile, then you hold John’s hand as the two of you quietly leave her bedroom. You lean down to pet Bleu as he trots past to keep guard in Ronan’s room, then you look at John, “So, where should we go?”

John shrugs, “There’s all kinds of museums in the city, I’m sure I can find something that is good for kids.”

“You don’t mind driving?” you ask as you walk into your bedroom with John following behind you, “I mean, I can always drive.”

“I don’t mind driving,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, “God, you smell good today.”

You laugh as you look at him, “It’s my new perfume.”

“Smells good,” he whispers, kissing your neck as you close your eyes.

“Wick, I know what you’re doing.” you whisper back, and he chuckles softly. “Unfortunately it’s working.”

John sucks on your skin and moves up your neck to the spot behind your ear, and you bite your bottom lip and shiver, which causes John to chuckle. He turns you around and kisses you on the lips as you wrap your arms around his neck, and he grips your ass tight in his hands.

“Mm,” he hums enthusiastically as he sucks on your tongue, then he leans down to continue kissing your neck, “I can’t get enough of you; I’m addicted.”

You laugh as John peppers your neck and collarbone in kisses, then you lean back and smile at him, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he whispers, then he reaches up with his left hand and gently brushes it against your cheek, “So beautiful, my peach.”

“Ah! Stop being so cute!” you laugh as you hug him tight, and John reaches down to lift you up as you wrap your legs around his waist. “Why are you so cute? What’s the reason?”

John laughs as he holds you and sits down on the bed, “Just kind of crazy about you.”

“Yeah, just kind of?” you ask, and he laughs as he holds tight to you and lays down on the bed.

“Oh, you know it’s much more than ‘kind of’,” he whispers, and you straddle his waist and lean down to kiss him as he hugs you tight.

__

The museum isn’t as packed as you thought it’d be but that’s a good thing! With a little girl who has recently discovered her legs, she rarely wants to be held anymore when you’re out somewhere and she loves to run everywhere, so it’s nice that she has room to do so since there’s not a lot of people here.

Ronan toddles into the next exhibit and quickly takes off in search of something to play with, and you let go of John’s hand and rush over to keep her from running too far ahead. You corral her back over to John, then you let out a small laugh when she reaches for John’s hand.

You look around at the exhibit to see that it’s a jungle gym area, and you know you’ll be here for a while since Ronan loves to play. You sit down on the steps that Ronan is going up, then you watch as John helps her get seated so she can go down the small slide. He holds her hand the entire time so she doesn’t fall or hit her head, and she squeals loudly before she runs over and uses your shirt to pull herself up the steps to go on the slide again.

A group of children come in, so you look at John and nod to the next exhibit. He picks up Ronan and blows raspberries on her tummy as she laughs, and you walk with him to the next exhibit.

“Oh, no.” you laugh when you see percussion instruments laying around, “This isn’t gonna be good.”

John lets Ronan down and laughs as she runs over to the chimes and slaps her hands against them, then she gets the mallets and bangs on the xylophone with a huge smile on her face. You put your hands over your ears and laugh as you look at John, and he smiles proudly as Ronan plays a very loud song for the two of you.

You see the group from the other exhibit coming in, and you grimace when the mom looks at you, “Sorry!”

“Hey! It’s okay!” she smiles, then she leans down and smiles at Ronan, “Aren’t you a little musical genius?”

Ronan squeals loudly, then she pounds the mallet on the xylophone some more as you and John both laugh. John wraps his arm around you and leans over to kiss the top of your head, then he looks at you and smiles before leaning down to kiss you.

You watch Ronan as she wanders over to the group of kids, particularly the older boy who is playing an instrument, and you smile when she watches him in wonder.

“Uh oh, John, you might have some competition.”

“Never,” John chuckles softly as he sees her staring at the young boy, then he leans down and smiles when she comes running back over to her number one guy.

__

John is holding Ronan in his arms and bouncing her as he makes silly noises to get her to giggle, and you smile as you watch him smothering her face in kisses. Ronan's laughter fills the room as John continues to play with her, and you can't help but feel grateful for this moment. You think about all the memories they’ll create together in the future, and you feel your heart swell with love as you see the bond between father and daughter growing stronger every day. It's moments like these that make all the sleepless nights and diaper changes worth it.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling at the two of them, but they’re just so damn cute. Ronan is getting bigger and changing every day, but she’s still so much John’s twin. Their matching dark hair and brown eyes just kill you, but you have to admit, you love the dimple in her right cheek--like mother like daughter. John glances over at you and smiles, and you grow a little bashful.

Something about John is really doing it for you today. He’s so hot, and he’s even hotter now that he’s a dad. Obviously you’ve always been attracted to him, but ever since he became a dad, he’s so much sexier. There’s this sensitivity and vulnerability to him that you’ve seen before but now it’s always there, and it’s hot! Just seeing him in this role is a feast for you.

“Mr. Wick, your table is ready.” the hostess says, and John nods his head.

“Hey, uh, can you take her in?” John asks, and you nod as you look at him, “I just remembered I needed to call Jimmy about something.”

You take Ronan from him and smile, “We’ll be inside.”

“I’ll be in in a few minutes,” he says, then he kisses your forehead before you move past to head inside to your table.

Thankfully the restaurant has their A/C on so it’s super cool inside, maybe too cool for Ronan to just be in her little dress. You place Ronan in the highchair and sit down at the table, then you dig through your bag to get the pants you packed and some socks for Ronan. You pick her up and quickly get her pants and socks on, then you put her back into the highchair.

Your server comes to the table to get you a drink and you just order some appetizers for you and John. You packed some things that Ronan can snack on until you get home later.

Your phone buzzes with a notification, so you reach over and look at it to see there’s a severe weather notification for Mill Neck and the surrounding cities. Hopefully you’ll be able to to eat and get out of the city in enough time so John won’t have to drive in the storm.

Speaking of John, you look around for him since he’s still not back, then you look over as your waitress sets your appetizers and drinks down. You ordered some chips and guacamole since Ronan can eat guacamole, and you scoop up a little bit and feed it to her. She smacks her lips together and leans over for more as you laugh.

“Hey…” John smiles as he walks over, then he leans down to kiss Ronan’s head before he rubs your back.

“Everything okay?”

John nods as he sits across the table from you, “Yeah. Did you get that weather alert?”

“Yeah, we better eat fast and head home.” you say, and John nods his head.

You watch as he looks around the restaurant, and you burrow your brow when you realize he’s being a little more cautious than usual. You reach over for his hand and smile softly when he looks at you.

“Sorry,” he whispers, shaking his head, “Just worried about the storm.”

“Well, why don’t we just get our food to go?” you ask, and he shakes his head, “John, it’s fine. We can even leave now.”

John looks at you for a moment, then he exhales, “I just don’t want you two out in the weather, plus Bleu is home.”

“We can leave,” you nod, then you look over for your waitress. She smiles as she walks over, and you tell her that you won’t be staying but you’ll be paying for your drinks and appetizers, which she offers a small box for.

John quickly puts the chips and guacamole into the box, along with the other appetizers that you ordered, then he puts a 50 dollar bill on the table. It’s way more than necessary, but he just wants to get out of here.

You put your backpack on and get Ronan from the highchair, then you hoist her up on your hip as John takes your arm and practically drags you from the restaurant. He lets go and wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, then he opens the backdoor and takes Ronan from you.

“Get in.”

“I…” you stand there for a moment, then you widen your eyes and walk to the passenger side door to get in, “Okay then.”

John gets Ronan buckled in, then he gets in the car and immediately starts it and pulls onto the street to get out of the city. You stare at him as he focuses on the road, and you furrow your brow and sit back in your seat.

__

John actually had the right idea getting out of the city sooner rather than after you ate. The rain started coming down when you were just outside of Mill Neck, and as soon as you got home, the wind started to pick up and several small branches were already in the yard from the trees.

It was still raining buckets while you got Ronan bathed and into her pajamas, and John took the task of getting all of her things and bringing them to the basement. He never likes to sleep upstairs when there’s a storm because of the glass walls in the living room. He grabbed her pack ‘n play and a few toys then went downstairs to get everything set up.

Just as you set Ronan down in the living room, lightning flashes bright and thunder rumbles a few seconds later, and Ronan immediately starts to cry and reaches up for you. You pick her up and hoist her on your hip, then you bounce her to calm her down.

“I got everything set up for her. Why don’t you two head down there now?”

“I just need to get her bottle,” you say, and John nods his head as he walks over to kiss your cheek.

He’s been so quiet since you got home, but then again he has been coming up and down the stairs for an hour now just trying to get everything in the basement before the worst part of the storm gets here.

You make Ronan a bottle and press a kiss to her forehead, then you head downstairs to see John has already made the pullout couch up with some sheets and blankets. He put Ronan’s bed next to your side, which is always the furthest side from the door you’ve noticed, and he set her blankets and bunny in it too.

“Okay, let’s get a movie started.” you whisper, hearing the thunder rumbling loudly even from downstairs.

You place Ronan on the bed and hand her bottle to her, then you get the remote and find a movie for her to watch before you walk over and stand at the bottom of the steps to wait for John.

After a few minutes of hovering by the stairs, the door opens and John comes down with your pillow and a bag in his left hand. You back up so you’re not on top of him, and you follow him as he sets the bag down on his workbench.

“You can look,” he says, raising his eyebrows and smiling.

You peek into the bag to see John has made you and him some sandwiches and brought the appetizers from the restaurant and some drinks down for the two of you. You smile as you look over at him kissing Ronan’s cheek, then he walks back over to you.

“Is that okay? I know you’re hungry.” he says, and you nod as he sits down on the stool, “The weather is getting pretty bad. The power might go out.”

Nodding your head, you stand between his legs and smile when he pulls you closer to him, and he tilts his head back and smiles as you lean down to kiss him. He holds your gaze when you lean up and look at him, then he puckers his lips for another kiss. You cup his face in your hands and kiss him several times, then you look over to make sure Ronan is okay.

“She watching her movie?”

“Yup, Tangled...again.” you say, and John lets out a small laugh as he pulls you even closer to him so he can kiss you. You run you fingers through his hair and hold his gaze, then you close your eyes and hug him tight, “I had fun today.”

John nods as he rubs your back, “Me too.”

“Was hoping we’d get some alone time, but that’s not going to happen now.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.” he laughs, and you lean back to look at him, “Maybe tomorrow.”

You sigh as you nod your head, “Yeah.”

“Can you wait that long?” John jokes, and you playfully shove him before he pulls you back into his arms, “Not sure I can wait that long.”

“You definitely can.” you laugh, and John shakes his head dramatically, “Hey, I have a question.”

John raises his eyebrows and nods, “Shoot.”

“Why do you always sleep closest to the door?” you ask, and John nods, “I’ve noticed it.”

“Because if someone broke in, who is the first person they’d go for?”

You nod, “The first person they see, which would be the person closest to the door. Is that why you always face the door too when we go out to eat?”

“I told you that I’ll always protect you,” he whispers, and a smile spreads across your face, then you pretend to faint against his chest as he laughs. “You’re the most important person in my life, mouse. I’ll always look out for you and protect you. You and Ro are the best things to ever happen to me.”

You reach up and touch John’s face as your eyes soften, and he gently presses a kiss to your thumb before he leans up to kiss you. You slide your hands up John’s biceps to his shoulders, then you lean against his chest and hold his gaze.

John places his hands on your waist and squeezes lightly, then he looks over when Ronan calls out for him. He pats your side and gets up to see what Ronan needs, and you decide to get your sandwich out since your stomach is grumbling. You take your sandwich over to the bed and crawl onto it to sit next to Ro, then you take a bite of it and smile when you hear John humming along to the song on TV.

“Too many times, huh?”

John laughs as he looks up at you, “When you were gone the other day, we watched it three times in a row. Didn’t we, bug?”

“Three times?” you laugh manically, “We watched it five times!”

“Really?”

You laugh, “No, we watched it twice in a row before I put something else on. Moana and Coco usually do the trick too--I think she likes the bright colors.”

“Makes sense,” John says, then he sings the song quietly to Ronan as she lays in his arms and finishes her bottle.

You offer a bite of your sandwich to John that he takes, then he sits up a little to get his sandwich from the bag.

“Mama,” Ronan says, and you smile at her as she waves at you.

“Well, hi.” you laugh, then you sit up and lean down to kiss her cheek, “You need to go to sleep.”

Ronan smiles wide and shakes her head as she laughs, and John chuckles quietly when she crawls around the bed, still shaking her head from side to side.

“You’re silly,” John laughs, and Ronan sits up and bounces on her butt while she watches the movie.

“Hey, is everything okay with Jimmy?”

John looks over at you and furrows his brow, “What?”

“You said you needed to call Jimmy earlier…”

“Oh! Uh, yeah, he’s fine…” he says, and you cock up your eyebrow a little, “I just had to ask him about a few things.”

You nod your head as you reach over for your bottle of water, then you look at John, “Sure.”

John looks over at you as you eye him, and he reaches over to playfully nudge your leg, “It was nothing, peach.”

“Okay,” you nod, smiling at him, “I believe you.”

__

You pull the sleeves of your sweater down as you head upstairs, then you rub the sleep from your eye as you open the door and look out at the yard to see the damage the storm left behind last night. Thankfully nothing too big besides a few branches, which John and you can pick up later.

“Yeah, I’ll speak with you soon.”

Furrowing your brow, you look over your shoulder when you hear John, then you walk into the kitchen to find him standing by the patio door. You clear your throat a little to get his attention, and he turns around to look at you.

“Who was that?”

“Oh, it was, uh, it was nothing…” he stammers, and you watch as he walks over to the fridge, “You ready for breakfast?”

You furrow your brow again and look at him, “It’s 6:30 in the morning. When have I ever eaten breakfast this early? I only got up to get another blanket, it’s freezing down there. Now I know why; you’re up here.”

John lets out a small sigh and turns to look at you, “I…I ran into someone yesterday when we were in the city. He wants my help.”

“With…?” you ask, and John holds your gaze until it clicks, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he looks down and shakes his head, “Super quick. In and out.”

You bite your cheek as you lean back against the counter and look at him, “I thought you said you were done with that. You said you wanted to just be here with me and Ro.”

“I do!” he nods as he walks over and reaches for your hands, “I do want that, but if I was in this position, he would help me--he has helped me. I have to help him.”

Looking down at your hands in John’s, you look up at him and slouch a little, “But what if you get--”

“I’m going to be fine,” he whispers, and you frown, “I promise that nothing will happen to me.”

“Okay,” you whisper as you nod.

John cups your face and holds your gaze, “I know you’re upset with me.”

“Yeah, but…” you shrug as you look at him, “Just come back in one piece so I can yell at you then.”

“I will,” John whispers, then he leans down and kisses you, “I’m gonna shower and get my things.”

You let out a small sigh as you watch John leaving the kitchen, then you wipe away the tear on your cheek and shake your head as you walk into the living room to get the blanket before you go back downstairs.

__

Standing by the door, you watch as Ronan carries John’s keys to ‘help’ him with his things, and you smile when she drops them every few steps. She picks them up and quickly walks over to you, then she hands them to you with a big smile on her face.

“Those are dad’s,” you says, pointing at John, “Can you give those to daddy?”

Ronan looks over at John and stands on her tiptoes as she reaches up to give him his keys, then she claps her hands like she’s so proud of herself. John kneels down and hugs Ronan, then he kisses her cheek and smiles at her.

“You gotta be good for momma,” he says, and Ronan nods her head, “I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you so much.”

Ronan hugs John again, then she takes off in search of her toys since she’s lost interest in saying goodbye. Her little diaper butt waddling off to the living room.

John lets out a small laugh as he watches her walk away, “I’m not offended.”

“Short attention span,” you laugh, then you inhale deeply and hold John’s gaze as he stands up, “Tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’ll be home tomorrow so you can yell at me.” he says, then he chuckles softly as he walks over to hug you. You wrap your arms around his neck and close your eyes as you hug him tight, then you look over his shoulder at Ronan as she plays with her toys. John rubs your sides as he leans back, then he kisses you a few times, “I’ll call you tonight.”

You nod your head and sniffle a little, “Okay.”

“Please don’t cry, baby. I’m gonna be fine.” he whispers, and you shrug before you put your head down and start crying harder, “I promise I’m coming home to you and Ro. Nothing can keep me from you girls.”

“Okay,” you whisper, then you lean back to look at him as he wipes away the tears on your cheeks, “I’m just still so confused as to why you’re even going.”

John sighs as he looks down, “I have to help this guy. I owe a lot to him. He’s one of the only guys that I trust.”

You bite your lip as you nod your head, then you lean up to kiss John, leaving your lips there for a few moments as he hugs you tight.

“I love you, and I’ll be home tomorrow.” he whispers against your lips, and you kiss him again before you let go. He rubs his thumb against your cheek, then he looks back at Ronan, “Bye, bug. I love you.”

Ronan babbles as she toddles over to John to give him a kiss goodbye, and you laugh when she puts her hands on his cheeks and puckers her lips. John lets her down and ruffles her wispy brown hair, then he leans over to kiss you again.

“I’ll call you in a little bit. Keep an eye on the weather.”

You nod as you walk over to open the front door for John, then you look at him as he gets his bags and walks onto the front step, “I love you.”

“I love you too, peach. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he smiles, and you nod your head before you kiss him one last time and wave before you close the door.

Wiping away the tear on your cheek, you walk into the living room and look over your shoulder when you hear the engine of John’s Mustang as he backs out of the driveway. He presses the horn a few times and waves out the window, and Ronan yells for him as she waves. You kneel down next to her and wave as John backs out, then you watch his car disappear behind the hedges.

__

Your phone has been in your back pocket ever since John left, and now you have it sitting in the cup holder on Ronan’s stroller as you walk down the street with Tess and Finn. You look over at Tess as she tells you what she’s been up to since they went to the lake house this week with Jimmy’s family, and you’re trying your hardest to pay attention, but all you can think about is John.

“Anyway,” Tess takes a deep breath and looks at you, “What did you guys do? It stormed pretty bad here.”

“Uh, yeah. The heat was really bad so we didn’t even swim, but we took Ro to a museum, and then…” you start to trail off as you look down at your phone, and Tess nudges your shoulder to gain your focus again, “Sorry. John…left.”

Tess furrows her brow, “What do you mean?”

“He didn’t leave me…”

“Well, no shit!” she laughs as she looks at you, “Hell would have to freeze over for that to happen.”

You let out a small laugh, “He ran into someone while we were in the city, and this morning he told me that he needed to help him. I don’t know what that means. I don’t know when he’ll be home, he says tomorrow, but who knows. I don’t know why he agreed. I don’t know anything.”

“I think since being with you, you’ve brought out such a soft side of John--a side that was probably always there but you’ve brought it out even more. I feel like he wouldn’t go back unless it really meant a lot to this person.” Tess says, and you nod as you look down, “Babe, he’s John. He’ll be fine.”

“I know, but I don’t want to do this every few months. I don’t want Ronan to see her dad take off, then not come home the next day.” you sigh as you shake your head, “He said he was done. He said he wanted to just be with me and Ronan. He said he was giving it all up and he was done. He said he was done!”

Tess reaches out for your arm and stops you from walking, “Listen to me, he loves you. This changes nothing.”

“This changes everything, Tess.”

“Stop being dramatic.” she says, and you let out a small laugh, “You’re John Wick’s wife. You and Ronan will never have to worry about anything, like nothing ever. Not money, not anything. No one would dare hurt you two, especially not John’s kid. Are you crazy? I mean, you’re safe too, obviously.”

You chuckle a little, “Thanks.”

“He’s probably sitting there thinking about how pissed you’re gonna be when he comes home tomorrow,” she says, and you shake your head, “But listen to me, he loves you and Ronan more than anything in this world. He’s just trying to help a friend. He’s just trying to be a good guy. Guess whose fault that is?”

You look at Tess when she gestures to you, then you roll your eyes, “The thing is I’m not even…mad. I’m not mad that he went back because I know deep down it’s a one time thing. I just…I worry he’s gonna get hurt. I worry that he’s not going to be able to recover or something.”

“Well, he is old.” Tess jokes, and you playfully shove her arm. She laughs as she walks down the street with you, then she stops in front of your driveway, “He’ll be fine, babe. Look at all the shit he went through before you were around. He’s still alive and kicking. He might just need a little TLC, and if he does, call me and I’ll come get Ro.”

Laughing quietly, you look down as Ronan sleeps soundly in her stroller, then you look at Tess and exhale, “I’ll call you later. Maybe you two can come over for dinner or something.”

Tess nods, “Sounds good. Jimmy is working late, so it’s just me and the goob for dinner.”

“We can get pizza,” you say, and Finn perks up as you smile, “Does that sound good?”

“Yeah!” Finn smiles, then he tugs Tess’ hand, “Pepper-toni.”

Tess smiles, “We can get pepperoni pizza.”

You kneel down and hug Finn when he walks over to you, then you kiss his cheek, “Finny, have you been working out? Look at those muscles!”

Finn tries his best to flex his biceps, which causes Tess to laugh, then he loses interest and walks over to pet Sadie and Bleu as they both patiently wait to get out of the heat.

“We’ll come over in a bit,” Tess says, reaching out to hug you, “I love you, and John loves you. Stop stressing!”

“Okay,” you laugh, then you ruffle Finn’s hair, “Pizza tonight, then…maybe we can go get some ice cream.”

Finn widens his eyes as he looks up at Tess, and she laughs as she lifts him up and tosses him over her shoulder. She waves at you as she walks across the street, and you tug Bleu’s leash a little to get his attention as you head up the driveway.

You look down at your phone when it lights up, and you smile as you read the text from John.

Can’t stop thinking about you. I promise I’ll be home. Don’t be too mad at me please.

You set your phone back in the cupholder, then you open the front door and get Bleu off his leash before you get Ronan from her stroller. You hold her in your arms as you walk over to the couch, then you take a picture of her cute little face and send it to John since you know he’d like that.

Spitting image of you when she’s asleep.

Because she’s quiet for once.

Nah, she’s an angel. I love you so much, baby. I will be home by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll prepare myself to get yelled at.

I love you.

I love you too. Give bug a kiss for me.

You set your phone aside and look down at Ronan as she sleep soundly in your arms, then you sit up and lay her down on the chaise so she can nap. You pull the throw blanket over her to keep her warm since it’s so cold in the house, then you lay down with your head next to hers and close your eyes.

__

Dark clouds started rolling in again this morning, so you know that you’ll be cooped up in the house. Thankfully you were able to get some activities for Ronan last night since you and Tess ran to the store with the kids after getting pizza.

Ronan is currently sitting on the living room floor with you while you read a book to her, but she’s not really paying attention since she got a new toy that sings and flashes colors. You don’t blame her for having more interest in that, to be honest.

Sitting up on your knees, you look around at all of Ronan’s toys and sigh a little before you get up and start to pick them up. You smile when Ronan squeals loudly and waves her hands around, and you laugh when she looks up at you with her big brown eyes.

“You look just like daddy, you know that?” you laugh, then you lean down to smother her face in kisses as she giggles loudly.

John called a little bit ago to say he’d be home this afternoon, and you’re nervous to see him. You’re nervous that…maybe he wants back in to that life. Maybe you and Ronan aren’t enough. It’s silly, it is, but it’s what you’re feeling.

Grabbing a few toys, you put them in her basket, then you walk around to continue picking up the living room. It’s not too messy, but it does look a little untidy. You fold up the throw blanket and put it on the back of the couch, then you stare at the living room for a moment before you head into the pantry to get the cleaning supplies to wipe down the tables.

Cleaning is usually the first thing you do when you’re stressed.

You clean off the coffee table and side tables, then you grab the vacuum and plug it in, which causes Ronan to perk up.

“You gonna help me?” you ask, and she gets up and walks over to you as you lean down to turn it on. She holds onto the vacuum and pushes it with you, and you smile when you barely hear her little giggle from over the loud vacuum. You kiss her cheek when you lean down, then you turn it off and laugh, “Good job, bug.”

Ronan claps her hands and rushes back to her toys, but she trips over her feet and falls flat onto her face. You freeze for a moment to see if she’s going to cry, but she just gets up and laughs before she sits down with her toys. Definitely John’s daughter.

You put the vacuum away along with the other cleaning supplies, then you stop and look at yourself in the mirror, “Oh, babe, what the hell? You look like shit. Uh…Ro, come with me.”

Ronan gets up and reaches for your hand, then you hoist her up onto your hip as you head upstairs to get some makeup. Ronan has some toys in your room, so she’ll be occupied for a few minutes.

Placing Ronan on the floor, you look over to see your makeup bag is on the dresser, so you quickly grab it and get started on your makeup. You don’t really have time to wash your hair, but you spray some dry shampoo into it and tie it out of your face.

After a few moments, you take a step back and look at yourself in the mirror, then you turn a little to make sure your jean shorts look okay. You fix your shirt, exhale, and shrug before you walk over to sit with Ronan on the floor to play with a toy.

The front door opens as you look over your shoulder, and you smile when Ronan perks up and looks at you.

“Hello? Where are my girls?” John calls out, “Hello? Are you two home?”

You grab Ronan and put your finger over your mouth, “Hide.”

Ronan giggles as she crawls over to you and hides by the bed, and you let out a small laugh when she puts her hand over her mouth.

“Hello?” John calls out again as he comes upstairs, “Bug? Peach?”

“Dada!” Ronan gets up and toddles over to John, and you laugh as you sit up.

You laugh when John leans over the edge of the bed to look at you, then he reaches for your hand and helps you up. You smile as you look at him but you quickly notice a few cuts on his face, which causes to you immediately move closer to inspect them.

“I’m okay.” he laughs as you gently move his hair to get a better look at the cut on his forehead, “Baby, I’m fine.”

“I’ll get the first aid kit.” you say, and John lets out a small laugh.

You grab the box from the linen closet and sigh a little, then you walk back out and watch John as he kisses Ronan’s cheek and flips her over to hold her upside down by her legs as she laughs. John blows raspberries on her stomach making her squeal with laughter, then he sets her in his lap and kisses the top of her head.

“Come here,” he smiles, reaching out for you, “Give me a kiss.”

You nod as you walk over to him, then you sit down on the bed and hold his gaze. He smiles softly as he leans over and he waits for you to fill the gap between the two of you. You lean over more and kiss him as you close your eyes, and you feel his hand on the back of your neck to keep you from moving.

“We’ll talk when she goes down for a nap.” he whispers, and you nod your head, “Just don’t yell at me until then.”

“Stop,” you shake your head and lean back to look at him, “You’ve mentioned me yelling at you like four times. I’m not gonna yell at you.”

John frowns a little, “Sorry.”

“Dada,” Ronan slips off his lap and walks over to the door and looks at him.

“She got some new toys,” you say, and John reaches for your hand as he gets up, “So, she’ll definitely want you to see them.”

John reaches down to pick her up, then he opens the baby gate and allows you to go first. You quickly make it down the stairs and open the other baby gate, then you wait for John and Ronan. Her eyes are growing heavy as John rubs her back, and he stops on the landing when you point at her.

“She’s almost asleep,” you whisper, and John looks down at her. “Should we take her up to her room?”

“Yeah,” he nods, then he reaches for your hand so you’ll join him.

You quickly head back upstairs with them as John bounces Ronan in his arms, and you lean against the door frame and watch him love up on Ronan. He closes his eyes and leans his head against hers, then he smiles softly.

“Goodnight, bug.” he whispers, then he puts her in her crib and turns on the fan. He reaches down to rub her back, then he smiles at her before he walks over to you. “Let’s go talk.”

“Let’s clean those cuts.” you whisper, then you hold his hand and walk to your bedroom.

John sits down on the bed and watches as you open the first aid kit, then he looks up at you as you gently press the wipe to his cuts to clean them out. You know he won’t need any stitches so you close up the first aid kit and grab it to bring to the bathroom.

As soon as you come out of the bedroom, you look at John and smile a little before you walk over and fall into his arms as he lays down on the bed. He presses several kisses to your lips, then he sits up with you and exhales.

“How was she while I was gone? What did you two do?”

“We went out for pizza and ice cream with Tess and Finn yesterday,” you say, and John smiles, “Then Tess and I went to the store and got some activities for the kids since it’s supposed to storm for the next three days. And today we just hung out at home and did nothing, really. Ro was good, of course.”

John tucks your hair behind your ear and smiles, “And how about you? Were you good?”

“Of course,” you laugh quietly, then you look over at John, “I’m always good though.”

“Ooh, are you sure about that?”

You laugh as you look at him, then you slouch, “I’m sorry, I can’t move on until we talk about what happened.”

“What?” John laughs, then he shakes his head, “What do you mean?”

“Are you going back?”

John furrows his brow, “Going back where?”

“Back.” you say, gesturing to his face, “Back to that!”

“No,” he laughs as he shakes his head, “Why the hell would I go back? I have everything I want here.”

You slouch more, “Because you did go back.”

“Just to help someone who really needed help.” he says, reaching for your hand, “That’s it. He just brought me for…back-up essentially.”

“Well, not really. Look at your face.”

John laughs, “Some little shit got the jump on me.”

You shift on the bed so you’re facing John, then you reach for his hands, “So you have no intention on going back?”

“None,” he says, shaking his head again, “Baby, I mean it when I say I am done with that life. I really am. I only went back because he needed help because…he wants to get out. He told me that he sees what I have, and he wants that.”

“I don’t want to have to constantly look over my shoulder when I’m out or have to worry about Ronan when we go to the store.”

John reaches over and cups your face, “You won’t, I promise.”

“I thought maybe you’d want to go back or something, like you’d realize you missed it.”

“How many times have I told you that I’m done? A lot of times,” he says, and you let out a small laugh, “I mean it, I am done. I know I went back but it was only to help someone. But I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, and no one will ever hurt you and Ro.”

You nod, “The off-limits hit list.”

“Something like that,” he laughs, then he leans over to kiss you.

“Well, let’s see the rest of the damage.” you say, gesturing for John to take off his shirt. You move to sit behind him as he pulls it over his head, then you inspect his back for any injuries. None. You lean forward to look at his chest and find none, then you sit down behind him and wrap your arms around his waist as you kiss his back. “I love you, John.”

John leans back a little to look at you, and he smiles when you lean up to rest your chin on his shoulder, “I know.”

“Hey!”

“I love you too,” he laughs, and you lean down to kiss his shoulder.

You close your eyes for a moment as John reaches down to play with your fingers, then you inhale deeply, “You won’t make a habit of this, will you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Good, because I need you more than other people do. Ronan and I need you here. I don’t want you running off every month because you have to help people.” you whisper, and John nods as he looks down, “I love that you want to help people, but this should be your priority; Ronan and me.”

John looks over his shoulder and shifts until he can see you, “And it is. You know that. You and her are the only things that truly matter to me.”

“We need you here and we need you alive.”

John chuckles a little, “I’m here and alive.”

“God, John!” you laugh as you lay back on the bed, “I want so bad to be mad at you but I can’t be!”

“Well, good!” he laughs as he crawls on top of you, and you wrap your arm around his neck, “I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

You exhale sharply and hold his gaze, “Please don’t break my heart by making this a habit. I’m putting my trust in you that this won’t be a thing.”

“It won’t be.” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you. “I’m exactly where I want to be. I just wanted to help someone so he could get to where I am. It’s the best place to be.”

Your eyes soften as John smiles at you, and you pull him down to kiss you as you wrap your legs around his waist.

You could totally be mad at him if you really wanted to be, but you trust him! You trust that he’s telling the truth and that he’s really just wanting to be with you and Ronan. The fact that John had enough in his heart to even help someone like that is truly amazing in the first place. Not that you doubted it, he’s just a great guy.

John keeps his lips pressed to yours as he leans up a little to pull your shorts off, then he unbuttons his jeans and unzips them before pulling his cock free from his boxers. He leans up a little and holds your gaze as he slowly rubs himself between your legs, and you whimper softly as your eyes roll shut when you feel the tip of his cock slowly sliding deep between your legs.

“This is exactly where I want to be,” he whispers, and you laugh against his lips.

__

Leaning against the door frame, you smile as you watch John laying on his stomach while he plays with Ronan’s newest toy. She’s giggling at just about everything he’s saying and hugging him nonstop. You didn’t realize how much she probably missed him last night. It’s not often that she spends the nights without you two, except for Wednesdays with she’s with your parents. You let out a small laugh when Ronan gets up and crawls onto John’s back, and he gets on his hands and knees and crawls around the floor with her on his back.

A warm tear slides down your cheek as you watch them playing in the living room, and you wipe it away when John looks up at you. He immediately sits up a little more, grabbing Ronan’s hands so she doesn’t fall, and you shake your head and put your hand out to stop him from coming over.

“Keep playing,” you smile, and he crawls over to you with Ronan on his back. You kneel down and smile at Ronan as she clings to John’s shirt, then you lean over to kiss her cheek, “Is daddy being a horsey?”

John laughs, “Oh, I thought I was a dog.”

You laugh as you shake your head, “Who rides a dog?”

“Emily Elizabeth from Clifford.” he says, and you laugh. He furrows his brow and lets out a small laugh, “I never in a million years would have thought I would know what Clifford The Big Red Dog is.”

“Yeah, it happens.” you nod as you sit on the floor, “I found myself doing laundry the other day and singing the theme song from Bubble Guppies. It really sneaks up on you.”

John laughs, “Yeah, it’s pretty catchy. The part with the clapping and the bubble puppy.”

You help Ronan off of John’s back and watch as she runs over to play with her toys, then you lean back against the wall with John and smile when he reaches for your hand. He smiles as he holds your gaze, then he leans over to kiss you a few times.

“This is the best,” he whispers, looking over at Ronan as she bangs two plastic toys together. “Even though a headache is inevitable.”

You let out laugh as you nod, “Yeah, definitely.”

“Just me and my girls.” he whispers, and you lean your head back against the wall and smile at him, “The best.”

“I agree.”

John wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer to him, then he presses a kiss to the top of your head as the two of you watch your sweet little girl playing with her toys. Despite an impending headache, this moment couldn’t get any better.

__

taglist: @sakurachan-9 @beingnerdyissupercool @tnu-ree @ruby-octo @scream-queen-25 Lemme know if u want to be added! the tagging system is kind of weird lately so let me know if this works or not lmao

[path-of-my-childhood]

Collect Call From... TAYLOR SWIFT

Blender Magazine (final, unpublished issue from May 2009) // By Josh Eells

Each month, one lucky rock star phones Blender HQ for seven days straight, just to, you know, share. Now on the line: country-pop princess.

DAY 1: FEBRUARY 24th, 3:51 pm

Swift calls from Nashville, where she lives with her parents and younger brother. “I’m so happy to be home! I’ve been in Europe for two weeks. I got back two nights ago and spent half of yesterday sleeping. This is my only week off for months, but I categorize vacations differently than most people. I don’t care if I’m doing interviews from when I wake up till I go to sleep, as long as l’m in my own bed, that’s a day off.  This morning I went to some of the radio stations in town, said hi to program directors. Then I met with my stylist - we talked about tour outfits. And now I’m getting dressed for my brother Austin’s lacrosse game. He plays goalie - this is his first game as starter. His friends used to tease him about me, but now he's six two and built. I don’t think they make jokes anymore.”

DAY 2: FEBRUARY 25th, 4:14 pm

Swift phones from home, where she’s “lounging on the couch under a quilt” and playing with her dogs, Baby (a Doberman) and Bug (a mini Pinscher). “Austin did great! His team won, and he kept a bunch of balls out of the goal. Afterwards I went with my friend Emily to a Nashville Predators game. I did a commercial for them, so they hook me up with tickets when I’m in town. There’s a couple of cute guys, but I think they’re all married. I totally cheer and do the fang-finger thing. Last night they put me on the JumboTron, and you could literally see the wave of people getting up to come over. I’m still getting used to the fact that being stared at is part of my day - in high school it meant I had something on my face. The fact that my albums has been No. 1 for 10 weeks - it’s unbelievable. But this week looks a little questionable: The Jonas Brothers have an album out, too. Hmm.”

DAY 3: FEBRUARY 26th, 5:30 pm

Swift dials in from the road In Nashville, where she’s stuck In rush-hour traffic. "I just shot a video with my friend Kellie [Pickier] for a song we wrote together. It’s about ex-boyfriends. In the video I am kind of her trouble-making sidekick - I wore this strapless studded dress with a zipper up the front. The whole day I was afraid someone was gonna walk by and unzip me. It would have taken half a second to ruin my day. Oh, my God, last night I fell asleep on the couch watching CSI: NY. I was out at like 7, but at some point I dragged myself to bed, and apparently in my haze I turned the heat up to 95! I woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, with my poor cat lying on the floor panting. I made myself an ice bath and called my friend Emma in LA - she was in Superbad - and she kept me company for two hours while I cooled down.”

DAY 4: FEBRUARY 27th, 4:37 pm

Swift rings from the music room at her house, where she’s teaching herself how to play piano. “I’m still not caught up from my jet lag. Today I woke up at 5:30, ate same cereal and fell back asleep on the couch. I didn’t sleep long though, because we had rehearsal this morning. Kenny Chesney was rehearsing next door, so we chatted for a bit. Nashville is a really small town. I still live with my parents because I’m never home long enough to move out. And I don’t go to bars, because I’m 19 and scared of breaking rules. Besides Kellie and my best friend Abigail, who moved to Kansas, most of my friends are in LA. And boys aren’t even an issue right now. I categorize guys as “talking”, “nominees” - people you feel like you could someday date - and “dating”. Right now I don’t even have nominees. I don’t even have potential future nominees! But I’m used to being single. Before my last relationship [with Joe Jonas] I was single for like two years. It’s sort of my thing.”

DAY 5: FEBRUARY 28th, 12:50 pm

Swift checks in from her mom’s car with some medical news. “So, I’m driving to the doctors office. I burned my face with a curling iron! Don’t worry, I’m fine - I’ll call you after we’re done. [She phones a few hours later.] OK. What happened was, I woke up at 6 am and decided to curl my hair. I guess l was still asleep, because I slipped and burned my face under my right eye. It hurt really bad, but I didn’t think much of it. I edited and uploaded a MySpace video - unhindered by the fact that my face was melting off - and went downstairs, and my dad was like, ‘Oh, my God!’ I guess it was worse than I realized. So we went to the dermatologist. She gave me a prescription for some burn cream - I’m not sure what it is, but it has a lot of syllables. The good news is I’m expected to make a full recovery.”

DAY 6: MARCH 1st, 10:03 pm

Swift phones from Plant City, Florida, where she lust performed at the world famous Florida Strawberry Festival. “This place is strawberry city! When we landed, there were official Strawberry Festival minivans waiting to pick us up, driven by people in strawberry shirts. In the dressing room there were bushels of the most beautiful, gigantic chocolate covered strawberries I’ve ever seen. It’s like they welded three together! And this afternoon I met the Strawberry Festival Queen and her court. They were dressed in red and looked very sparkly. It was cold for Florida, like 55 and rainy, but everybody bundled up and had a great time. Afterward we had a police escort, which always makes you feel cool, and we’re taking a private jet, which is even cooler. On the way to the airport all these kids were trying to hurl themselves on our car - it was pretty frantic for a second. But thankfully no one got hurt. That’s why it was cool.”

DAY 7: MARCH 2nd, 12:50 pm

On her last day at home, Swift calls from her favorite couch, where she’s enjoying the view of Old Hickory Lake. “It’s freezing in Tennessee! It’s like 29 degrees, and I’m sitting here packing sundresses and flip-flops for two weeks in Australia. That and downloading movies for the 20,000-hour flight I’m about to embark on. I have three goals for this trip. One, get a tan. Two, go to the beach. And three, debut my new summer wardrobe. Oh, and four, play some good shows and make an impact on Australia! Ha. I don’t go into most situations thinking I’m going to win. I’ve never even won a raffle. These blessings I’ve had lately are more amazing than I could have ever imagined. We got the new projections today, and It’s looking like we’re going to be No.1 again. Does it feel a little sweeter this week? [Laughs] Yeah - just a little.”

[theonewiththefanfics]

Not So Bad After All (one-shot)

Synopsys: When the Reader’s car won’t start and the only person around is Billy Hargrove, she’d rather let the Demogorgon take her out on a date. But when her crazy ex decides to roll around, having another person in her corner might not be that bad. 

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x f!Reader

Genre: fluff, lil bit of angst, but only like if you squint

Warnings: swearing, mentions of stalkerish behaviour, suggestive talk, but nothing much. If there’s anything else, please let me know :)

Word count: 3008

        Summer nights in Hawkins were like a game of Russian roulette. They could be hot and sweltering, and to the point that you wanted to camp on the lake for some kind of relief from the heat, or they could be ruled by piercing winds, and temperatures that dropped below 50 degrees, despite the weather during the day being literal Hell.         Fortunately for Y/N, it was the first one, as she had no harrowing want to go back to the community pool in barely there jean shorts, a bikini top and a loose Jaws t-shirt over her body.         Working at the pool was a tradition at this point for her, and forgetting her bag with her driver’s license, wallet and house keys much the same.         Letting out a frustrating huff, she opened the gate to the pool and strutted towards the women’s changing rooms, not acknowledging Billy Hargrove who had applied for the lifeguard job and had gotten it, becoming her partner. Sort of.         They shared shifts, as there needed to be two lifeguards on spot at all times, but if Y/N was being honest, she’d rather share her time with a Demogorgon, than Billy.         He was stuck up, thought he was better than everyone else, flirted mercilessly with anyone that would come up to him, had two boobs and a vagina between their legs. Not that she really cared, but when in the timespan he was offering Nancy Wheeler’s mom ‘private swimming lessons’, a kid had slipped and broken his nose and another one had twisted her ankle, Y/N was very much so over his bullshit.

        Y/N groaned seeing as someone had left the women’s sauna door open, which meant all the heat had escaped into the showers, and she could only hope it hadn’t been left open cause Billy had wanted to have some fun with a girl.         Sighing, Y/N peeked inside and crossed her fingers that she wouldn’t have to clean all that mess up, and it turned out luck was on her side, as everything seemed clean. Heather would still have to mop down the floors in the morning when her shift started, but that was not Y/N’s concern.         As quick as possible, she closed the sauna door, placed a towel by the entrance to soak up the moisture on the tiles and rushed to get her stuff. She was starving by that point, and her dad had promised they’d be having a barbecue night. Just at the thought of food, her stomach released the loudest grumble ever.         With her bag slung over her shoulder, Y/N pulled out her car keys from the back pocket of her shorts and gave Billy a small tight-lipped smile as he held the gate open for her before closing for the night.         “You sure you got everything?” he asked, and she nodded.         “If not, I’ll just get it tomorrow.”         And that was it for their conversation. They weren’t enemies, but they certainly weren’t friends. Y/N hung out with Steve Harrington most of the time, and let’s just say Billy and him were not buddies. Besides, it’s not like Billy had expressed any interest in getting to know her, so why should she?         She pulled back the hair that had stuck to her forehead from the humidity, and dropped her bag into the passenger seat, putting her foot onto the clutch and twisting the key.         Her eyebrows furrowed, and she repeated the motion.         Like before, the engine sputtered, rattled and did nothing.         “Fucking, hell, are you kidding me?” Y/N muttered and slapped her hands against the wheel, stepping out of her car and sighing. “I just fixed you.” It was an old car, but it wasn’t ancient so it made no sense why it would be acting up.         From the corner of her eye, she saw Billy approach, and Y/N rolled her eyes at the cigarette he dumped onto the ground and extinguished with his foot. “Need some help, sweetheart?”         “I’d rather shove a spoon through my eye.”         Billy let out a small snort and shook his head, the dirty blond curls that had stretched out a bit from the heat swishing along his forehead in soft waves. “Come on. I just want to help. I promise that’s all.”         Y/N eyed him sceptically but relented in the end. Maybe she’d need his help and have him spark her car up. “But if your hands go somewhere, I can’t see, you’re dead.”         “Noted, princess.”         She rolled her eyes at the nickname, which seemed to be Billy’s favorite pastime, but nevertheless, Y/N opened her door and leaned to open the glove compartment where a flashlight resided. You never knew, when it could come in hand, and the lighting outside the pool’s parking lot wasn’t the best.         “Pop the hood,” Billy said, and Y/N pressed the button on the inside, the hood obscuring her vision of her ex-classmate.         “Your ignition cable’s gone,” he immediately announced.         “What?” she rushed to his side, shining the light to where Billy was pointing at, and true to his words – the cable was gone.         “Are you kidding me?” Y/N leaned closer but nope, the view didn’t change. The cable was really gone. Right then, the sound of a car engine rolling up next to them made the two look up. Even without glimpsing the shitty green paint job on the Mustang, Y/N would’ve recognized the car and the owner in a matter of seconds.         “You’ve gotta be joking,” she mumbled glaring at the car that was approaching them as if she could see through the metal hood.         Billy’s eyes flitted down to where Y/N was glaring a hole in her car.        "Know who it is?"         “That’s my insane ex-boyfriend. Ever since I broke up with him, which, mind you, was months ago, he’s been stalking me.” She slammed down the hood, and it would’ve made Billy flinch, had it not been for the overwhelming feeling of anger that started to course through his veins. “And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my car’s dead.”         “The pool’s closed, amigo,” Billy called out to the boy who stepped out from his car. The Californian would never admit, but he’d grown really attached to Y/N. He didn’t show it, nor did it seem like she noticed one bit, but he always kept out an eye for her.         Whenever she was the one on closing duty, he lingered around under the guise of trying to hook up with a girl in his car, but in truth, it was to see if she got to her own vehicle safely.         He always made sure Y/N took her lunch breaks and wasn’t in the direct heat of the sun for too long. There had been one time she’d passed out in the girl’s locker room, according to Heather, after having basically worked a double shift, and Billy’s protectiveness just grew. He'd even given half of his sandwich when the only thing Y/N had had time to pack before rushing for her shift had been an apple.         “Y/N,” the dark-haired boy’s tone had the fake-shocked note to it. “I didn’t expect to see you here… is everything alright?”         She crossed her arms and popped her hip out. “It was. Until you showed up and completely ruined my evening.”         “That’s a bit mean, isn’t’ it?” the guy chuckled, and pretty much simultaneously both Y/N’s and Billy’s jaws clenched. Hers because Derek was the last person on her list of people she wanted to see, Billy’s cause he could instantly tell what a disgusting slime ball he was.         “We’re alright here,” the blond answered and puffed up his chest a bit if only to make it clear Y/N didn’t need his help and neither wanted him there. “And again – the pool is closed. So, piss off.”         Derek scoffed. “Yeah, I wasn’t talking to you, Hargrove. I was talking to the lady here.”         “Well I don’t think she wants to talk to you,” Billy sneered in response and looked over at Y/N who was just looking at Derek. For the first time ever, he was glad her eyes were not on him. Whenever he caught her glancing his way, his heart sped up in excitement, but now... if looks could kill, Billy was sure Derek would be twenty feet under.         “I think she can talk for herself, right, lovie?”         And Derek got what he wanted – a reaction out of her. Y/N hated that nickname, had always despised it, but it took two to play a game.         “Car trouble,” she said and slowly walked closer to Derek and coincidentally, but not really so coincidentally, her trunk. “Couldn’t start it, and Billy here offered his help.”         “You know that you can always ask me for help, right?” Derek’s tone was softer now but held an edge to it as he eyed Billy. “We might not be together, but I still care about you. Unlike the slut of the town who probably just wants to get in your pants.”         “Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Y/N smiled at the ground, and it made Billy’s heart clench. He knew he had a reputation, but that didn’t mean he didn’t genuinely care for her. Though when she pulled out a baseball bat, her grip tight around the handle, his mood shifted. “But there’s caring about someone,” she said, “and then there’s your absolute psycho behavior.”         “Y-Y/N?” Derek stuttered, and Billy crossed his arms with a smug look on his face.         “See here’s the thing, Billy boy here said that my ignition cable’s gone, which is funny, cause I was at the pool for barely five minutes,” she tossed the bat from one hand to the other before flipping it in her palm. “And less than two minutes after I’m in a little bit of trouble, you,” she pointed at Derek with the bat, “show up. And if you think I believe in coincidences such as this, you’re dead wrong.”         Derek bristled, and Y/N smiled seeing a muscle in his jaw tick, especially when Billy went to tower behind the other guy’s back. “You can’t be serious and think that I'd do something to your car? This is ridiculous.”        “Then you wouldn’t mind me searching your Mustang?” She pointed with the bat at the window. From the corner of her eye, Y/N could see Billy’s lips pull up in a smirk. She’d be lying if the thought of having him on her side wasn’t a soothing one.        Derek’s eyes widened at the sight, and he gulped when she gently slid the piece of wood across his back window.        “You wouldn’t mind me taking a look, would you?” Y/N repeated in a way too sweet of a tone.        “You’re crazy,” he said, making her eyes darken.        “Fine. Then I guess I just have to make myself fit that label,” she sneered and swung the bat back. Just as it was about to reach the window, Derek screamed, ‘alright, fine!’        His chest was heaving up and down, but Y/N could see how his fists clenched and unclenched. “Do whatever the fuck you want.”        In mock gratitude, Y/N put a hand against her chest. “Thank you.”        Her eyes flitted to Billy. “Would you mind keeping an eye on him?”        The Californian’s grin widened, and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. “Not at all, princess. Take as much time as you need.”        But Y/N only had to look for three minutes, before she remembered that under the backseats, there was a compartment Derek had made to stash his weed, fearing his parents might find it if he hid it in his room, so with a little bit of prying and almost breaking off a nail, Y/N opened the little compartment and was greeted by a greasy tube sticking out from it.        “Oh, Billy, would you look at that!” Y/N exclaimed not surprised at all as she threw the boy the cable. “I think we found the hidden treasure.”         “Well, I think you need to change professions from a lifeguard and become an archaeologist, miss Indiana Jones.”         “Exactly my thoughts,” but her sarcastic reply was not filled with any humor at all.        “Listen here, you absolute psycho,” Y/N growled as she moved closer, grip tightening around her bat. “If I even smell you anywhere near me, your ass is dead. Got it? I broke up with you cause you were a piece of shit, but I wanted to remain civil. Though, now, it seems like it’s not possible.”        But as much as Derek was scared, ‘cause he knew Y/N never made threats only promises, he still wouldn’t see the error of his ways. “Come on, darling. I just miss you. Why don’t we go grab a bite and talk everything out? Let’s not let this dent our relationship…”         “Dent,” Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “The only dent that I’ll ever acknowledge, cause there’s no relationship between us, is the dent in your car.”         Simultaneously as Derek yelled ‘what?!’ Y/N swung back the bat and let it connect with the passenger door.         “You bitch! What are you doing you psychopath?!” her ex screamed as his hands went to tangle in his hair. “I’ll make you pay for that, just you wait!”        “Go on,” she smirked heaving in a breath after she left another dent on the side, “tell your daddy and mommy your crazy ex busted up your car. And I’ll tell Hopper how you’ve been parked outside of my house for the past three months trying to spy on me. Or how about the times you've followed me with your car? Who do you think he’ll believe – me, someone with evidence – or you – a bitter boy who just can’t get over a girl that doesn’t want him?”        Derek’s eyes widened in fear. “What evidence?”        Y/N scoffed and crossed her arms. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you lurking outside my house and not do anything about it? I know how people treat women, that whenever they say something it’s because they’re crazed bitches. So,” she smiled smugly, “I had my parents install a security system with cameras. And your license plate shines brightly under those streetlights. Oh, and how could I forget our star witness tonight. Billy, sweetheart, if I went to Hop and told him about everything, would you mind corroborating the story? You know, how I came here to get my stuff, how I couldn’t start my car and we found out my ignition cable was gone. Not to even mention, how it turned up in the back of Derek's car here?”        “Of course not, princess,” he smiled mimicking Y/N’s position. “It would be an absolute honor.”        “You’ll never get into her pants,” Derek sneered at the other guy, trying to strike a chord, “in three years she didn’t put out once.”        “Trust me,” came Y/N’s immediate reply. “Billy has more chance of getting with me than you ever had or will. Now stay away from me, or it’ll end uglier than it started.”        Derek swung open his door and hopped in his car, sneering out a ‘you’ll regret this, you bitch’, before driving away into the night.        “Gotta say, Y/L/N,” Billy smirked and helped reinstall the cables to her car, “I’d be lying if I said I’m not scared and aroused at the same time.”        “Busting up a car makes you hard?” she let out a genuine laugh sitting down into the driver’s seat and turning the key, fist-bumping the air as her car roared back to life.         “No, but a girl not taking anyone’s bullshit might,” the look on his face was the pure embodiment of what she thought of Billy, of his womanizing ways, and Y/N rolled her eyes.         “If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t been taking your bullshit either.”         He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth before answering completely honestly. “Then why do you think I’ve been trying so hard to make you like me?”         Her jaw practically slammed through the car floor, because when Y/N’s eyes met his, there was not a single trace of him lying or scheming something up. This was Billy without his bravado, asking out a girl he had actual feelings for, and hoping that she wouldn’t break his heart too much.        “What are you doing this Friday?” Y/N asked both hands on the wheel to have something to hold on instead of fidget with her fingers.        For a second, he was stunned but quickly regained his composure. “Dunno,” Billy smirked, “have any ideas?”        Y/N shrugged but didn’t hide the smile that blossomed on her lips. “They’re still showing Day of the Dead. Wanna go and watch?”        He seemed to contemplate her proposal but then shook his head. “Can’t,” he chuckled. “I’m taking this smokin'-hot chick on a date tomorrow morning, so hopefully on Friday it’ll be our third one.” But his face had this huge grin on that made her frown in confusion.         “Then why did you say you don’t know?”         “Cause first I have to take you out for breakfast.”        “What?” her eyebrows scrunched up and she let out a small laugh. Billy pointed at her before hopping into his Camaro, rolling down the passenger side window and stating, “10 AM. Benny’s. Be ready or I’ll leave without you.”         With that, he revved up his beloved blue baby and reversed out from the parking lot.         What she didn’t see was how he smiled all the way back to his house even doing a little dance as he walked up the steps.         What he didn’t see was how she squealed in excitement and hugged both her parents when she got home so hard they thought they’d pass out.         “What’s up with you?” Y/N’s father laughed seeing his daughter so over the moon that he had to look at her mom with a raised eyebrow.         “Nothing,” she shook her. “I’m just… happy.”         Luckily they didn't question her any further, and just let her smile as widely as her cheeks would allow.        Maybe the bad boy of Hawkins wasn’t that bad after all.

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28

Billy Hargrove’s tag list: @la-reina-tigresa @youcanstandundermyumbrella

A/N: thought I’d get something else up as well for Billy :)

[adenil-umano]

12 Days of Spones Day 1: Snow

[Read on AO3]

Poeth Iawn IV was the coolest planet orbiting the trinary star cluster P-I VH10034. Temperatures on the surface averaged 50 degrees celsius at night, and a balmy 63 during the day. It was too hot for a human without about a liter of tri-ox coursing through their veins, and even vulcans declared it “shorts and a t-shirt” weather. The generational ship--sent from Earth in 2112 and arriving just last year--had, of course, not packed any of the tri-ox that would not be invented for another fifty years.

Records of the ship had been lost on Earth, so the Federation didn’t find out about the few hundred human colonists slowly melting on the planet until the distress calls started coming through. The first suggestion was to evacuate. Find a new home for the colonists and declare this planet unfit for human habitation. But humans are stubborn things, and although the colonists had only lived on the lifeless cinder of a planet for a year they had already decided to call it home. They’d scuttled their ship and dug into the ground, where temperatures were a few degrees colder and the air was a few oxygen molecules short of a full breath.

Underground was where Dr. Leonard McCoy found himself shuttling hyposprays back and forth in regular intervals, keeping the scientists and colonists alive as the Enterprise crew installed weather control towers that would hopefully provide a bit of respite. 

“Jim, you can’t just wander around shirtless. That’s not a heat reduction plan.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Bones. I’m perfectly cool.”

“Perfectly sweaty is more like. Jim, you’re dripping. It’s disgusting.”

“You wound me.”

“‘Do no harm’ does not apply to your ego.”

“You don’t hear me complaining about your pit stains.”

“Don’t make me jab you with this,” McCoy said, brandishing the hypospray threateningly. “I know all the pressure points in the human body.”

Jim pouted and reluctantly tugged his shirt back on, offering up his arm meekly for the hypospray.

“Honestly,” McCoy muttered. “I should just leave you here to fester. You’d be singing a different tune in about three hours when the last of the HeatSync and tri-ox wear off.”

He slapped Jim’s arm and shooed the captain away. He worked quickly through the line of engineers waiting for their shots, and then the dozen grateful colonists. Forty-seven of them had died of heat stroke before the Federation could arrive with aid, and the remainder weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Even if said-gift horse did require them to keep their damned shirts on.

When he’d finished he still had one hypospray sitting pretty in his kit. He didn’t have to consult his list to know who had missed their daily regiment. With a sigh, he packed up his things and took out his tricorder. He’d dealt with this problem yesterday, and the day before, and the week before that, so his tricorder was already set to detect Vulcan biosigns.

He followed the signal through the main cave system and past the clusters of engineers drilling support structures into the rocks. Later, the weather towers would have feet that thrust a full kilometer into the ground. They needed to stand firm and tall. Weather control was still an uncertain science, and the surface of the planet would be prone to bouts of extreme storms.

He found Spock hiding in a garden. The colonists had filled the caves with mushrooms and dark-loving plants. It was dim, with only a faint biolumenscent glow from some of the lichen to light the rows and rows of mushroom boxes. Spock stood along the far wall which swooped some three meters up to the curvedceiling. His tricorder beeped steadily as he scanned every inch with delicate precision. Even in the shadows, his body language belied intense concentration.

He thought about clearing his throat and startling Spock, but something held him back. McCoy merely watched him for a moment. Spock’s hair caught the green light from the lichen and his high cheekbones were even sharper than normal in the shadowed light. He finished his examination of the wall and closed his tricorder with a click.

“My apologies, Doctor,” Spock said, turning towards him. 

“Lose track of time? Again?” McCoy asked. He tugged on his shirt to get air flowing. It was a few degrees cooler underground but it still wasn’t pleasant, even while standing still. 

“No. I was merely...enraptured with a certain problem I believe I am quite close to solving.”

“Does your rapture allow you to get a booster shot? Or will that throw off your flow?”

Spock inclined his gracefully. With a laugh, McCoy moseyed over and pressed the hypospray against Spock’s arm. McCoy brushed his thumb over the injection site. Doctors hadn’t used needles in over two centuries, but he still indulged in a few comforting gestures now and again. He let his hand trail down and interlaced his fingers with Spock’s. A warmth infused him as Spock shared a wave of contentment with him.

“So, what problem are you working on?”

“One that I believe will provide a more lasting solution to the Poeth colonists’ weather problem.”

“Oh? Weather towers aren’t good enough for you?”

“Indeed, they are not. Even on Earth, where the use of weather towers is most mature, the technology has never successfully changed global temperatures by more than four degrees.”

“I thought you said the scientists were hopeful they could build a better system here?”

“Initially, yes, that is what I believed. However, even if projections prove to be accurate the global temperature will be reduced by a mere five degrees.”

“At least it would be livable, if not comfortable.”

“Then there is the issue of tower maintenance. For a new colony that has yet to establish a reliable food source this may  prove to overwhelm their capacity.”

McCoy sighed. He leaned in and rested his head against Spock’s shoulder, breathing deeply to steady himself. Spock was the only thing on this whole planet that didn’t smell of sweat. He just smelled a bit warm and a bit earthy, probably from hanging out with mushrooms all day. “Yeah,” McCoy muttered. “I was thinking about that, too. The Federation will have to establish a supply line.”

“Given how close such a line would come to the Romulan neutral zone that is not a guaranteed solution. Ships do not come this far often, and if even one were to go missing it could upset the delicate balance of supplies here.”

“So? What’s your grand, Vulcan plan to solve the problem and save all these people?”

“Simple. I will move the planet.”

“Move the--Spock, I think you’ve been spending too much time communing with the fungus.”

“Although it is no easy task, it is one we have accomplished before, albeit to a lesser degree. When we deflected the course of the asteroid bound for Amerind we utilized similar principles to the ones that may yet save the people of Poeth Iawn.”

“That was just an asteroid. You’re talking about moving an entire planet. And if I recall correctly it nearly blew out every circuit in the ship.”

“As I said, it is no easy task.”

“Mr. Spock you are the master of understatement,” McCoy said dryly. He leaned in to give Spock a peck on the cheek. “Well, can I help at all? What are your calculations looking like?”

“The calculations are complete. I know how to move the planet. I was merely scanning the cave structures to determine the likelihood that the underground system would be destroyed in the process.”

“Will it?”

“With the proper support structures in place I believe upwards of 83.2% of the cave structure will remain intact during the moving process.”

“That’s good. As dingy as this place is, it’s still these people’s home. I suppose I can let you get back to your study.”

“Not necessary, Doctor. I am ready to report my findings to the Captain.” Spock’s eyes flashed brightly in the dim light. “Would you care to indulge in one of your human traditions with me? I believe this calls for a ‘celebratory kiss.’”

McCoy laughed. “Why, Mr. Spock, I would be delighted.” He bounced up on his toes and met Spock in the darkness, sliding together with the ease of long practice, and with the ease of a rather gross amount of sweat. McCoy hummed as he felt Spock’s hot hand settle onto his lower back. They kissed in the sweltering cave among loam and mushrooms, a brief celebration cut short by the itchy heat. 

McCoy pulled away and tugged at his shirt again. “Sorry, Spock, but it’s a bit too warm for a true celebration.”

“A pity,” Spock said. He let his hand fall and McCoy sighed in a mixture of disappointment at the loss and relief at the removal of Spock’s overwhelming warmth. “Perhaps later, when it is cooler.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth.”

---

After that came the real work. Spock’s plan wasn’t easy, and it required a complete redirection of energy from everyone working on the planet and on the Enterprise. Not to mention the hours of negotiations with the Captain and the leaders of Poeth Iawn. Surprisingly--or perhaps not--the colonists were eager to try Spock’s plan. It was Jim who required convincing, and after a few late nights poring over Spock’s data he finally agreed to go through with it.

The towers, half-built, were dismantled rapidly and repurposed into support structures for the winding cave systems. Anyone who wasn’t working on supporting the caves prepared for a temporary evacuation. They harvested food, put their experiments in stasis, and said goodbyes to rocks that may be buried under rubble in a few day’s time. Humans were funny like that, McCoy mused as he continued the only job he was good for: administering shots. The colonists had developed connections to the planet, connections that ran deep despite their short time here. They had favorite underground streams and familiar crystal formations. Some loved this passageway or that the way one loves a treasured pet. Spock’s estimate of how much of their home was likely to be destroyed didn’t sit well with them, that much was clear. They wanted to say goodbye while they had the chance.

It took eight days to secure the underground caverns and to transport the colonists to the Enterprise. Quarters would be tight during the moving of the planet, but staying four or five to a room was safer than trying to stay standing on a planet that was about to be rocked. McCoy found himself rooming with Scotty and Sulu, and the three stayed up late toasting to future successes. McCoy awoke with a headache and a bad taste in his mouth, his skin tingling with anticipation for what the day would bring.

The whole ship was overtaken by a hush, despite the overcrowding situation. People passed each other with only a whisper, everyone’s thoughts on what would happen on the planet below.

McCoy found his way to the bridge with a headache hypo he discreetly delivered to a very-thankful Sulu. After that he loitered near Spock’s station, carefully out of the way. He could feel Spock’s nervous energy even without touching him and he radiated back as much calm contentment as he could. Occasionally Spock looked up from his calculations, his mouth pinching in at the sight of McCoy. It could have been called a smile, if McCoy had wanted to insult his partner. 

“We are ready to proceed, Captain.”

“Good. Captain to Engineering. Scotty, any final adjustments?”

“Not a one, Captain. We’ve got the hatches battened down firmer than drum.”

“You think the Enterprise will hold?”

“Aye, Captain. You give the order and she’ll hold, even if I do have to nurse her through it.”

Jim nodded, sitting back in his chair. A slight tinge of anxiety rippled through the bridge as everyone poised to act. McCoy wasn’t useful for this part of it, and he hoped to hell he wouldn’t be made useful by anything blowing up.

“Mr. Spock, you may begin.”

Spock’s hands flew over the controls. Sulu and Chekov both moved in unison to bring the Enterprise about. McCoy was certain he imagined the slight shudder as the ship crept into position. Through the viewscreen, the barren landscape of Poeth Iawn IV crept into view. Stark red rock broken only by dry riverbeds and the occasionally wispy cloud peered up like an eye examining the ship. 

“Begin tractor beam on my mark,” Spock said. His voice didn’t waver, but something about the way he said it made McCoy reach out one hand and light brush Spock’s wrist bone. “Three, two, one...mark.”

The entire ship really did shudder as the most powerful tractor beam ever conjured shot forward. It was a brilliant gold color, and the vibrations of it set McCoy’s teeth on edge. The beam fired in waves, each driving precisely into various points across the planet’s surface. They concentrated near the equator, tiny spurts of incredible force. The planet appeared to move, but in reality it was the Enterprise skirting around to improve the angel McCoy knew it was a delicate balance between moving the planet and not knocking it completely out of orbit or accidentally stopping its rotation. 

Spock’s gaze was fixed on his readings, so McCoy watched the sight of the tractor beam bathing the planet in gold with fixed interest, attempting to commit it to a memory that he could share with Spock later. Spock deserved to see all the fruits of his labor, not just the numbers and calculations. 

It took nearly eighty minutes for the dazzling light show to die down. When the last beam fizzled out, everyone on the bridge breathed a sigh of relief. Jim called down to engineering and found out that only a single switch board had blown; the engines were fine. 

“We could do it again if you’d like, Captain.”

Jim smiled. “No, Scotty. Once is enough.” He relaxed back into his chair. “Report, Mr. Spock?”

“Planet movement is within margin of error. The spin has been increased by approximately thirteen Earth-minutes, bringing the total length of a Poeth Iawn day to twenty-two hours and forty-nine minutes thirteen seconds. If the planet continues on this course it will move far enough from the planet to equalize to a temperature on par with pre-Industrial Revolution Earth. Most interestingly, we are seeing climate patterns emerge for the first time.”

“Look,” McCoy said. “Is that...snow?”

Even Spock turned to gaze at the screen. The wispy clouds dotting the planet had thickened and coalesced, coming together to form something which, form above, appeared suspiciously similar to a snowstorm. It was difficult to make out from this angle.

“Captain, recommend the deployment of a surface team to measure the effects.”

“Request granted. Assemble the team.”

Spock called for the ship’s climatologist and for two geologists. Of course, McCoy and Jim went as well, if only because they were curious. Based on Spock’s initial measurements everyone wore the winter uniform: gloves, hats, long sleeves, and thermal undershirts. It felt odd to prep for an away team that involved a scarf.

McCoy beamed down to the surface of the planet for the first time. It was quiet, almost eerily so. The stone beneath his feet was rough pumice, and although there was a faint chill in the air there was no snow here yet. He looked up and watched the clouds gather, twisting and turning. 

A few feet away Spock was scanning madly. After a moment he clicked shut his tricorder and turned to Jim. “Captain, I can report that the structural damage to the tunnel systems was minimal. We can begin reintegrating the colonists at this location immediately.”

“Shouldn’t we go to their cave system and see it ourselves?”

“We are at the cave system, Captain.” Spock pointed to few disturbed stones nearby. “This is the entrance.”

Jim looked down at the ground, perhaps imagining, as McCoy was, all the miles and miles of tunnels just beneath their feet. After a moment, he nodded. “Very well. Specialist Tian, coordinate with the shuttle bay and transporter room. Let’s get these people home.”

A breeze picked up as everyone scattered to their tasks. McCoy shivered, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. It took only a few minutes for the whine of the transporters to begin. It would be hours before everyone was back on the planet. The initial six that beamed down appeared to be a family: two mothers and their kids, plus an elderly grandfather, all gazed wide-eyed up at the sky.

McCoy looked up, grinning. There was a glint and then--yes, there. A single snowflake twirled through the air down, down towards the red surface. McCoy followed it’s path, entertaining himself with thoughts of snowflakes boldly going where no snow had gone before. 

The flake landed in Spock’s perfectly coifed hair and McCoy laughed, ambling over to brush it away. “Mr. Spock, you’ve prevented the first snowflake from landing. That’s mighty cruel of you; after all the hard work it put in to forming itself way up there you didn’t let it reach the ground.”

Spock blinked at him. “I do not believe snowflakes have an opinion about where they land.” As he spoke, more snow dusted his hair and his long eyelashes. 

McCoy watched him as he was slowly covered in snow, a grin on his face and warmth in his heart. It was falling faster now, the kind of fast, warm snow that he’d only seen during fall days spent visiting the Midwest. Behind him, the children began to shriek with joy and run screaming around the rocks.

All around them the world was slowly coated  in a layer of white. The red vanished piece-by-piece, replaced by a snow so clean that it hurt to look at. McCoy laughed and watched his breath crystalize in the air. He lifted his face towards the sky and threw his arms wide, welcoming the snow and the cold and all that it meant for this planet and its people.

“My god, Spock. Will you look at that?”

“I am looking, Doctor.”

He turned and felt his breath catch as his eyes locked with Spock’s. Spock gazed at him evenly, lovingly, and McCoy shivered even though he no longer felt cold. 

Spock slipped closer, reaching out to entangle their fingers and share a bright burst of happiness with McCoy. “Will you indulge me, Leonard?”

“A celebratory kiss?”

“If you would be so kind.”

McCoy laughed, and it was the easiest thing in this world or any other to lean in and press their bodies together. He felt all of Spock--his warmth and solidity, his stoic energy, the smoothness of his lips. McCoy let Spock pull him close into that warm embrace and kissed the dewy snow from his cheeks.

They kissed as the world turned beneath them, altered for the better, and as snow piled up around their feet.

[stellar-alley]

Of Scales and Sea Glass

•Chapter 1•

 Next Chapter >>

(Summary: Eddie deals with the anniversary of his parent's death. After an intense tropical storm, he discovers something has washed up in his pool.)

Also shout out to @ambitiousskychild on tumblr for being my beta!

~

It’s just water.   You’ll be fine   God, why do you always worry so damn much?

“FUCK” Eddie groaned as he raked his hand through his hair. “Fuck…” He repeated, letting his voice trail off this time. 

It’s been a year, you should be over this by now . 

Sure it might’ve been a year, but that didn’t mean Eddie Kaspbrak was any less terrified of the ocean. Its endless blue and unexplored depths made Eddie want to be anywhere else. It didn’t help that the ocean was literally in Eddie’s backyard. All that he needed to know was that exactly one year ago today, that blue, those depths, took his parent’s lives, and that was enough to scare the boy shitless. Only now, on the anniversary of Sonia and Frank Kaspbrak’s death, did he finally decide to do something about it. 

Eddie stood about 50 feet away from his back porch, his feet in the sand and a towel wrapped over his shoulders. He watched the waves fall and crash over the sand. Tonight the weathermen were calling for a killer storm, which seemed oddly appropriate in the boy’s head. It was almost like his mother was giving him a sign. It was like her way of saying “Eddie-bear, go back inside! The world is dangerous, so stay in your room!” because that’s what she did. 

For most of Eddie’s life, he was fed placebos, convinced he had asthma, and practically forced to be straight. It was all his mother’s doings. Ever since her death Eddie has come to terms with all of his fake illnesses, he’s even been able to come out to his friends! Of course, they all accepted him and helped him whenever he needed it. He was really grateful for the losers he called his friends. 

Lighting struck in the distance, it sent a flash of light over Eddie’s face that caused him to shrink into his towel. The dark clouds that loomed overhead only caused Eddie’s heart to beat harder inside his ribcage. 

Thunder cackled soon after. Eddie’s eyes teared up as he looked up and into the waves, “I-I’m sorry,” He choked, barely able to get the words out. 

Eddie shuffled back into his oceanside house before the rain started, which was good cause when it rained, it poured. The first thing he did when he got inside was close all of the blinds, unable to look out into his backyard without his stomach-turning, the guilt was practically eating away at him. The last thing he saw as he closed the blinds were his pool, the water reflected the dark clouds that loomed overhead, creating a haunting atmosphere. 

The realization caused Eddie to sigh, “That’s gonna be a pain in my ass to clean.” Storms like these always brought the most random crap up from the bottom of the ocean, somehow all of it always ended up in Eddie’s pool. He didn’t even want the pool, he lived so close to the ocean, it was kinda useless. Well, aside from the days when it was too cold to swim in the ocean , that’s when he’d usually heat the pool up and swim in there instead. That was when he still swam. Now he hasn’t used that thing in well over a year. 

After Sonia and Frank passed, The Kaspbrak’s residence was passed down to their only child, Eddie. That house included an underground pool, a house way too big for one person, and an almost private beach that only he and his next door neighbours had access to. (His neighbours on the left never used it though. They were an elderly couple. Sometimes he’d find them sitting outside on the warm days, but they weren’t the outdoor type. His neighbours on the right had their yard fenced off). Eddie never used the pool but kept it clean for the days when his friends came over. They'd go swimming while he read in the shade. 

That night Eddie slept with his ear buds in, music on loud and the covers pulled over his head. He hated how scared he was of the water. He missed the way the waves made him feel. It was something he's never felt before, when he swam he was safe, and free. He's tried to overcome it, but nothing has worked. He'd need a miracle to convince him to get back into the water. 

 ~

Eddie woke up the next morning to the early morning sunlight streaming in through the cracks of his blinds. He mentally cursed out God for creating the sun before he turned over and shoved his face deeper into his pillow. After about 20 more minutes of internal complaining, Eddie finally dragged himself out of bed. His head was waterlogged, hazed by sleep. So when he opened the blinds to his back doors all he saw was a mass of sea shit that now crowded his pool. Instead of focusing on exactly what had washed up onto his property, he simply rolled his eyes and went to go back to breakfast. 

Eddie checked his phone, hoping it’d wake his mind up a little but he sighed as he realized he didn’t have any wifi. His realization brought a thought to the forefront of his mind. “Oh no…. No, no, no,” Eddie mumbled as he padded over towards the nearest light switch. “Fuck,” He leaned his head up against the wall when the lights didn’t turn on. This was something else that happened a lot when they were hit by a storm, the power goes out. 

After breakfast, Eddie got changed out of his pyjamas. He opted to put on an older black tee as he knew he’d be cleaning today. He pulled his iconic red shorts on and slipped on a pair of sneakers. He gathered up all of the cleaning supplies he had set aside for storms like these and set them out on his back porch. 

The morning air smelled of rain and salt. The temperature had dropped a couple of degrees from the previous day, which was refreshing, but it didn’t change the fact that Eddie had a whole yard to clean. 

First, he swept off the porch. He pushed all of the twigs, branches and sand onto the ground below. He noticed one of his neighbour’s palm trees had several fallen branches. That would explain the countless leaves that were scattered across his yard and filled his pool. 

After, he collected as much of the debris from the lawn as he could. Stuffing everything into garbage bags, tying them up, then carrying them to his front yard, where they’d sit until garbage day. Once he was in his front yard, he looked around at his neighbour’s lawns and saw they were all going through the same hell that he was. Everyone was out with garbage bins and shovels, cleaning up the mess the storm left behind. 

“EDDIE! HEY!” A voice called out to him. 

Eddie turned towards the voice and saw his neighbour to the right, Beverly Marsh. He was one of the lucky kids who conveniently lived beside one of his best friends. While the rest of their Losers Club lived no more than 20 minutes away, Bev and Eddie lived the closest, which made it easy for the group to meet up. Even if their meetups almost always ended up at Eddie’s house. 

When his mother was alive, she rarely let all of them come over, but now that she was gone, most of their summer break was spent in Eddie’s backyard, in the pool, on the beach, or in his basement watching movies. Eddie didn’t mind, he enjoyed the company. Especially since living alone got, well, lonely. So he made sure to soak up every moment he could get with his Losers. 

Eddie’s resting bitch face was washed out and replaced by a genuinely happy smile. “Marsh! How’s it hanging?” Eddie said in his best surfer bro voice. 

“It’s totally tubular,” She said, followed by a laugh. “How’s your place? No power?” She asked as she put down the bag she was holding and crossed her yard and onto Eddie’s. 

“Yeah, and my yard is a fucking mess. Don’t even get me started on the pool,” Eddie groaned at the thought.

A smug smile spread over Beverly’s lips, “It’s the days like these when I’m grateful I don’t have a pool. Can’t you just get the pool guys to come and clean it?” She questions. 

“I would but it’d cost me an arm and a leg. I’m just gonna clean then get someone to refill it. It’ll be fine,” He sighed. Eddie was gonna ask if she wanted to help but he lost his chance when Beverly’s aunt came outside. 

“Beverly! Oh, Hi Eddie. How are you doing?” She smiled at him. Beverly’s aunt Katherine was always nice to Eddie, she always helped him whenever he needed it, cooking meals and helping with bills. She was pretty great. 

“As good as I can be after a storm like this, crazy isn’t it?” He nods his head. 

“It really is, on that note, Bev, we should be getting back to work,” She said as Bev nodded. 

“I’ll see you later Eddie. Let me know if you get ahold of the rest of our rat pack, alright?” She winked as she slowly began to back away. 

“Yes ma’am!” Eddie saluted and returned to the backyard. 

He sighed. “No better time than the present, am I right?” He asked himself as he picked up the big net that was propped against the porch, then walked towards the pool.

The water had turned a dark green-grey. It didn’t smell too bad, which was a blessing as Eddie has a sensitive stomach and wasn’t in the mood of adding barf to his list of things to clean. He swept the net over the surface of the water for a couple minutes before noticing how there were a lot bigger pieces of debris than he had realized. 

Looks like we gotta break out the big guns  , Eddie left the net on the side of the pool and went to grab some rubber gloves and one of his big grey garbage cans. He stood at the edge of the pool and stared down at the water below him. It was different when he had the net, he barely had to lean over the edge, but now he was worried about falling in.  What if I lean in, fall, and drown, or get knocked unconscious and die? Eddie calmed his breathing down before it got a chance to pick up. 

“Okay, Eddie, you’re fine,” He let out a shaky breath. He ended up laying down on the pavement, flat on his stomach and stuck his arms over the edge, not daring to let anything below his neck hang over the edge of the pool. Slowly but surely he dragged most of the debris out and onto the pavement, which would then be put into the garbage, but right now he just needed to get everything out of the pool. Amongst the trash and green life he found in the water, he also fished out a pair of glasses, although they didn’t seem like normal glasses. First off, they were pretty big, but the lenses seemed oddly fogged and thick. Reminding Eddie of the sea glass he’s collected over the years of living on the coast. He set them aside and made a note to investigate them further once he was done here. 

After a couple of hours of hard work, Eddie stood over the pool and admired all of his hard work. Sure there was still a bunch of shit at the bottom of the pool, but he agreed to clean that out once the pool had been emptied. There had been a particular pile of debris off in the corner that caught Eddie’s eye. It seemed to be a pile-up of plants and what looked to be a fishing net. He walked over to that side of the pool and squinted down at the trash. Something was dimly shining beneath the pile of soggy algae that covered it. 

Maybe a fish got washed into the pool? Hm, poor dude, Eddie shrugged, about to walk away when the pile twitched ever so slightly, Eddie could have convinced himself he was seeing things, but something was telling him he wasn’t. Determined to see what it was, Eddie quickly grabbed the net and poked the pile of debris. He shied away after the first poke, then moved to poke it again. It twitched again. Eddie’s brow furrowed as he poked it again, a little harder this time. This time it shifted positions, allowing Eddie to see a little bit more of the creature that sat at the bottom of his pool. 

The shine came from scales, and there were a lot of them.  How big is this fucking fish? Oh shit- do I have a shark in my pool?! No dumbass, sharks don’t have scales…

Instead of poking it again, Eddie used the butt end of the net to try to move the debris off of the creature. He was able to push most of the algae aside, but the creature must’ve been tangled up in that damned net. The creature might not have been 100% visible, but he had a better view of it now. 

“Is that? No way…” Eddie began to speak to himself as he examined the creature. “That can’t be...” He said as he examined the part of the creature that looked like it had hair. Well whatever it had that looked like hair, it was inky black, it slowly swayed around-  A HEAD?   “WHAT THE FUCK!” Eddie shrieked as he began to stumble backwards. He stammered and wobbled. But suddenly, one of the bricks that lined the pool gave out beneath him, and he fell forwards. He fell into the pool with a big splash. 

He didn’t even have time to think, his mind was overtaken by panic. Eddie thrashed and splashed, he tried to pull himself to the surface but the water was blurring his vision, making it impossible to tell which way was up. He barely had time to take in any air as he was randomly tossed into the pool. So his lungs ached and his head throbbed. He wanted to scream out for help or stop moving just for a second, in hopes that’d he just float to the surface. But he couldn’t stop, his legs kicked wildly in the water, his shoes heavy on his feet and his clothes constricting his movement. 

He was too busy thinking about his own death to notice the pair of arms that’d wrapped around his waist. Eddie’s lungs began to  burn  , they begged for air, but Eddie knew that he was  not  going to let his mouth open. He refused to die the same death that his parents had. With that, his vision began to blur more than it already was. His mind hazed over and his thrashing minimized. His vision was dotted with black spots, due to lack of oxygen. 

I’m gonna die . 

~

Suddenly he was gasping for air. His lungs heaved as he spat up water and tried to breathe in as much air as he could. He rubbed the water out of his eyes. It took a moment for his gaze to clear, but once he did he realized he was sitting on the edge of the pool, his clothes soaked and his hair filled with leaves and dirt. 

What the fuck happened? How did I get here?  The questions overloaded Eddie’s mind as his breathing quickened, there was so much going on,  too much . 

The water beside him splashed, a light spray of water settled on him. He hesitantly looked over, hoping to see nothing, that he had dreamt it all up. But when he turned his head, he saw something drifting slowly towards him in the water. He hadn’t failed to notice how murkey the water had gotten. It’s green tinge now brown, and a little red. He didn’t even let himself think about what made it red. Eddie panicked and jackknifed, hastily shuffling backwards and away from the water. 

Eddie’s eyes were as wide as saucers, his eyebrows practically in his hairline. His breathing practically stopped as he watched the black hair he’d seen previously slowly poke up out of the water. Eddie wanted to get up and run, call the cops,  something , but he couldn’t. He was frozen in fear and anticipation. He couldn’t help that little bit of wonder that filled his head as the creature continued to come up from the waters’ surface. 

He watched as the head moved up just enough to reveal a pair of impossibly blue eyes. They stared back at him, partially covered by the black hair hanging in its face. Something about the eyes seemed hazy, almost as if they weren’t clear, they squinted for a moment before opening up wide again. 

Eddie could only muster a weak “hi,” as he stared at the creature before him. The blue eyes rolled and bubbles erupted in front of him. The head sunk back down into the water.

A splash caused Eddie to tear his eyes away from where the head once was, and look up. Further down in the pool he watched as a fish like tail splashed against the surface of the water. Half of its fin was covered in the fishing net. The rope digging into the scales. Eddie finally saw what was the cause of the red in the water. The net had various hooks still attached to it. They dug into the scales of the tail, causing it to leak red blood. Eddie’s stomach dropped. 

The tail splashed against the surface of the water again. It acted as a reality check for Eddie as he finally mustered the strength to stand up. Once he was on his feet, he wobbled momentarily before marching towards his porch. He didn’t look back as he closed his patio door. He kept walking until he was in his bathroom. 

He turned on the shower and waited until it filled the small room with steam. The boiling water practically burned all the dirt off of his skin. He was too caught up in his own thoughts to even realize he began thinking out loud. 

“There’s someone in my pool,” He started, his voice distant, “And a fish. A massive fucking fish.” He thought about the mess of hair he’d seen at the bottom of the pool. “No one can survive being underwater that long… No one, but not nothing.”

What if it wasn’t two things in my pool…  

He contemplated the idea for a second, “BUT THEY DON’T EXIST!” Eddie shouted in frustration, thrusting his fist against the ceramic wall of his shower. So many ideas floated through Eddie’s head, he hated it, he hated not knowing what was in his pool. And he hated the fact that the only idea that made semi sense, was that he had a fucking mermaid in his pool. 

“But they’re made-up. Stories, fairytailes.  Not real life, ” He countered, recalling movies like The Little Mermaid and Aquamarine. “But what else explains the tail?” He asked himself in defeat. 

Eddie turned the water to the shower off. His skin was red and raw, he could practically see the steam coming off of himself. He rested his forehead against the wall of his shower and tried to clear his head.  In and out… In and out  , he reminded himself as he took a couple minutes to just  breathe . 

After the hurricane in his head finally calmed down, he allowed himself to think back to what he’d seen outside. Careful to not open the dam of memories, he focused on the tail, the head, the water,  the blood . 

The poor thing is hurt , Eddie sharply inhaled. “Shit…” He recalled the net, and how it dug into the creature's tail. He shivered at the thought of what it must be going through. Then he remembered why he took the shower in the first place, he fell into the pool, and that fish thing, it saved him.

With a new game plan, Eddie finished up in the bathroom, got dressed, then got his fist aid kit and all the other supplies he needed. He went back outside, the sun beating down over his head as he stood on his patio and surveyed his backyard. A new level of determination filled the human. He was intrigued to find out what the hell was in his pool, and this was the best way he could find that out. 

He marched down and to the water’s edge, but all the bravery he had mustered died the moment he saw the creature floating on its front at the edge of Eddie’s pool. 

He raised his hands to cover his mouth, his eyes wide, “Fuck,” he cursed. His mind automatically assumed the worst,  death . But he tried to mentally assure himself that it had just passed out as he didn’t want to panic.

Eddie got down on his knees and carefully leaned over to grab the creature. He held his breath, worried about falling in, but he was able to pull the creature to the edge of the pool. He pushed it over onto its back. He wanted to inspect its face and features but Eddie needed to get him out of the water before those cuts got infected. 

Quickly, Eddie laid a towel down on the pavement beside the pool, worried about what the heat of the ground would do to the fish’s scales. When it came time to pulling the thing out of the water, he hadn’t thought about how much that fucking tale would weigh. He hooked his arms under the arms of the creature and tried to pull him out. He heaved and tugged. 

“Holy shit- you’re  so  fucking heavy,” Eddie gasped,  half way there , he thought to himself. All of the human part was out, and half of the tail, now all he had left was the rest of the tail and the monofin. Eddie took in one sharp inhale before he pulled the rest of it out in one final tug. He gasped as he suddenly landed on his back, the fish flopped down onto the towel beside him. 

Eddie didn’t take too long to recover, he was too interested in seeing what exactly he had just fished out of his swimming pool. He sat on his knees and surveyed the creature that laid uncious before him. 

It was indeed, a mermaid. 

The upper half of its body was made of pasty white skin, as smooth as a shark's skin. It shined in the afternoon sunlight. Its arms were long and fairly skinny with a little muscles. Eddie carefully lifted up one of its hands. He inspected it, noticing how there was an almost translucent webbing that connected his long and bony fingers. Then he let out a small gasp at the claws that laid at the edges of his fingers. They looked sharp, one swipe would surely draw blood. With that, he carefully laid the hand back down by its side. 

Eddie leaned forward a little to examine the creature's face. He lifted a hand, gently pushing some of the soggy hair out of his face. He frowned at the slash that ran across its cheeks, cutting through a wild pack of freckles. His pale skin allowed the freckles on his cheeks to shine like stars on a clear night. Eddie thought about counting them, like he had the stars, but he opted not to as he knew he had more pressing tasks at hand. He took one last glance at the face, allowing himself to soak in the mermaid's features in all its beauty. Yes,  beauty. Even Eddie couldn’t deny it, the creature was fairly beautiful. But now isn't the time for crushes, Eddie shook his head as he finally made his way down to the tale. 

Eddie examined its chest. It was fairly skinny, not malnourished, as in he could slightly see his ribs, but it wasn't too concerning. He noticed a couple bruises and various scrapes that would need to be disinfected. He followed the pale skin down. Suddenly Eddie’s brows furrowed together. The creature had no belly button. But if he had, then the scales would have started just below it. 

Now without the water blurring their colour, he was able to see the scales in all their glory. They were a pastel blue, some places darker than others, the shades varying as the tail continued. The tip of its monofin shined a sparkly silver that could give the real stuff a run for its money.

Finally, he got to his feet and overlooked  all of the creature’s injuries. Sure he had some scraps, cuts and bruises along the upper part of its body, but its tail got the worst of it. The net was tangled up in its monofin and dug into its scales, causing some of them to flake off. 

He raked his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends. “Fuck,” he sighed, realizing how much work he had to do. Without wasting any more time, he leaned over to the abundance of supplies he’d brought outside and grabbed the exacto knife to cut the net. Just as the blade popped out and Eddie leaned in, something cold and slimy grabbed his wrist. His body went cold, head snapping towards the mermaids. His eyes locked with the fish’s. The blues of his eyes were wide and determined. Eddie looked down and realized it was the hand with the knife. Quickly he grabbed the knife with his free hand and tossed it to the side. 

“Hey-Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie motioned his hands to show that they were empty and he meant no harm. Only then did the creature release Eddie’s hand, his head flopping back against the towel.  Eddie leaned over and saw that its eyes were still open, but they were hazed, almost unfocused. Eddie didn’t think too much of it, probably the salt water making him go blind or something. 

“Okay, I’m just gonna try to remove the net, alright?” He asked, but received no response. He leaned back over and pulled his bifocals out of his second fanny pack, then leaned back in and began examining the net. 

The mermaid’s head tilted upwards, it watched the human’s fingers traced along the edges of the net. Its eyes grew wide at the sight of the spectacles on Eddie’s face. 

Eddie noticed the movement and glanced over at the creature. He hummed lightly, wondering what it was looking at. The moment didn’t last too long as when Eddie leaned away from the tail, the creature lunged at him. Its arms out and claws sharp, its eyes filled with determination. Eddie shrieked and fell backwards, his hands flew up to his face. 

After a moment of heavy breathing, he realized he felt no pain. He slowly moved his shaky hands away from his face and looked up at the mermaid. He was surprised to see it carefully holding his bifocals. 

It held it in his hands as if they were so fragile they’d break. The creature slid them onto his face as if it was a second nature. The blue eyes blinked a couple times before its face scrunched up in confusion. It took the glasses off and held them once again in its hands. Now its face was filled with disbelief and worry. 

“What?” Eddie asked, unsure of what was happening. 

The creature looked up at the human with sad, hazy eyes. For a moment they just held eye contact, as if they were having a conversation with their eyes in a language Eddie didn’t understand. Then the creature held the glasses out towards Eddie with one hand, while the other pointed towards its own chest. 

Eddie’s face scrunched up, he hated charades. “What about the glasses?”. 

The creature pointed to itself once again. 

“Your glasses?” Eddie suggested, and the blue eyes widened to an impossible size. A new emotion spread over the fish’s face, excitement. “Yeah?” Eddie asked, and nodded. “Yeah!” Eddie said happily. “Yeah…” he repeated, this time with fear laced in his voice as he had no clue where its glasses were. 

Since when do mermaids wear glasses anyways? What the fuck?

“Wait- You can understand me?” It finally dawned on Eddie, he’d been talking to a mermaid, and it was responding… technically. 

Its eyebrows lowered and their glare became sharp, as if to say ‘ Yeah, so? ’, followed by a slow nod. Now it had used its free arm to prop itself up on it’s elbow so they were almost at eye level. 

Eddie smiled softly at the fish, his cheeks a little warmer than they were before. He nervously chuckled, “Oh, cool”. He rubbed the back of his neck, diverting his gaze around the backyard so he didn’t have to stare into those ocean eyes any longer. His sight landed on the pile of trash he said he’d sort through later that laid on his lawn and he noticed a piece of glass that shined in the light. 

Eddie gasped, he jumped from his sitting position up to his feet and ran to his pile of trash. He snatched the object up off of the lawn and ran back to the mermaid, practically falling down beside it. Eddie got situated on the ground, a wide smile on his face. He held them and carefully opened them up, without any further wait, he leaned in and slid the glasses on the mermaid's face. 

The fish was confused at first, unsure of how to feel about the human being so close. But the small boy didn’t give it much of a chance to react because before he could flinch, his vision cleared. Its hands moved up to its face and felt around, touching the glasses that they knew all too well. 

Finally being able to see clearly, it looked up at the boy in front of it. Its lips curved into a wide smile that got a little giggle out of the human. 

“So I guess those are yours?” Eddie asks. 

The mermaid nods proudly. The moment is cut short when a bolt of pain cuts through the fish’s tail, it grimaces and hisses.

Eddie tenses at the sound, “Oh shit! Sorry, but can I  please use the knife?” He beged, eyes wide and worried. 

The mermaid lies back down on the towel, eyes forced shut. It nods. 

Okay, okay, okay  . Eddie’s thoughts pick up at the thought of being so close to the creature. Not because it’s like- cute or anything,  no  , it’s because he doesn't want to hurt it.  Yeah, that’s why . 

Eddie gripped the exacto knife with enough strength to make his knuckles go white. His eyes skimmed over the net, deciding on where to cut. He found a spot he claimed to be a good start and began cutting. He sliced the net up and into pieces, slowly freeing the tail from its grasp. Soon enough he was just left with the pieces that had the hooks attached to them. 

“Sorry this is gonna hurt,” Eddie said before he carefully pulled the fist hook loose. The fish’s breathing hitched and filled with pain. “ Sorry!”  Eddie grimaced as he pulled another one out. This one leaked a lot more blood and the mermaids hand smacked around the ground, causing Eddie to jump at the sudden sound. It felt like it took hours to fully free the tail, but soon enough the deed was done. 

Eddie leaned back on his hands and tilted his head up towards the sun. “I’m sorry,” he breathed before looking back down at the mermaid. It sat upright now, carefully examining its tail. It reached out to touch one of the cuts. Eddie jumped into action and slapped the hand away. It hissed at Eddie. “Hey! Don’t do that, I’ve still gotta disinfect them, okay?” His tone grew impatient as he cracked open the first aid kit. 

His back began to ache from the hours he’d spent hunched over the blue tail, disinfecting the scrapes and bandaging the deeper cuts. He moved on to the upper half of the creature. 

“Tell me if this hurts, okay?” Eddie requested as the mermaid gave him a side eye look. Eddie began to slowly put pressure on different places on the fish’s chest, mainly the places with the bruises to see if- The mermaid let out a loud hiss. Eddie’s hands shot up and away as its claws came into view again. “Sorry! You have an injured rib, so that’s why it hurts. You won’t be able to move much until it heals,” Eddie explained, his mind going through the healing process when he realized it won’t be able to swim in this condition, and it certainly can’t stay on land in Eddie’s backyard. 

“Oh…” Eddie’s graze dropped, a sudden wave of fatigue washed over him as he realized what he’s gonna have to do. But before he allowed himself to think over the idea too much, he finished cleaning all of the cuts that needed it. 

“O-Okay, so I-um.... I can’t leave you here, and I can’t bring you back to the ocean cause you’re hurt and you need to properly heal. So i’m gonna bring you into my house and keep you in my bathtub, okay?” He rambled in hopes the creature understood what he was saying.  God, I sound fucking insane. This is insane! I can’t keep an oversized goldfish in my tub. But I can’t leave him out here… the pool guys are coming tomorrow and if they see him we’d be in so much shit- It’s the only way  . Eddie finalized his plan with a sigh.   

“You,” he pointed at the creature, “stay,” he demanded before he got up and went back inside. He ran upstairs and into the bathroom, flopped down beside the big bathtub, and began running the water. He set the temperature to warm then took a moment to catch his breath. 

Everything began to settle in. The mermaid, the scales, the storm, the future, the creature’s eyes, its freckles-  Okay, Eddie stop it. It’s a fucking sea creature, you can’t have a crush on it . He huffed and rolled his eyes at his gay thoughts. Eddie’s been out for a couple months now, to his mother's dismay, and he’s been happy. Sure he’s had a couple crushes before, but he’s never had one on a fish person… So he wasn't too sure what to think of that. 

The white noise created by the running water created a soothing atmosphere for the boy, and for a moment, he sat in silence and just  breathed . Though the moment was short lived, a low whale-like sound erupted from his stomach, reminding him about the fact that he hasn't had lunch yet. He looked down at his watch and saw it was already 3 pm. 

Holy shit, time flies when you're with a merman. If I’m hungry then imagine what it must be feeling, when was the last time it ate? What does it eat? Do I have anything to feed it? Okay let’s just focus on getting it inside first- Also? Finding a fucking name for this thing, I can’t keep calling it, well, IT!

Eddie shook all of the static out of his head and pulled himself to his feet. He turned the knob to the bathtub and turned the water off, he hoped the temperature would suffice, he’d find out soon enough. 

Going back to the mermaid in his backyard, he found it in the same place he left it, which was a relief. Still on its back, with an arm on its forehead to shade its eyes from the blaring afternoon sun. It sensed the human before he approached. It moved its arm and tilted its head to look up at the towering figure. 

“Hi again, so I need to pick you up to bring you inside. So you don't… die. Is that okay?” Eddie asked awkwardly. The creature simply shrugged, as if to say ‘Do what you need’. “Okay,  well , you need to help me out cause you weigh a fucking ton and I am not strong. So wrap your arms around my neck and don’t-don’t fucking eat me,” Eddie instructed as he got down on his knees, bracing himself for the weight he’d soon carry. 

The mermaid sat up. Eddie moved his hands underneath the tail, he didn’t wait for the mer to move its arms because he knew if he waited any longer he’d convince himself not to. So he sharply inhaled and lifted the mermaid up bridal style. He wobbled slightly as he gained his balance on his feet. The wobble sent a shiver down the mer’s spine, he jumped to wrap its arms around Eddie’s neck in fear of being dropped. 

The sudden motion made Eddie smirk. “Oh,  now  you do it,” he forced a small laugh. Eddie began to walk forward towards the house, each step harder than the last. 

When they got to the stairs, Eddie’s breath hitched when he went up the first stair, his arms almost gave out from beneath him. 

The mermaid shook and buried its face in the crook of Eddie’s neck. Eddie felt the glasses dig into his neck. With the sudden change of proximities,  the mer’s breath sent shivers down Eddie’s back, it was slow and warm. 

The muscles in his arms burned before he even started up the staircase to the second flood. “Fuck… me,” Eddie murmed, as if it was going to take away the fiery pain that ran through his body. 

Eddie was practically dragging his feet as he walked, unable to bring them up from the ground. His vision was set on the staircase in front of him, so he didn’t notice the one floorboard that was slightly higher than the others. The toe of his foot collided with the floorboard and they went toppling forward, hitting the floor with a big  thump . 

The creature let out a ear bleeding shriek as it fell, then pain erupted from its tail as it landed on the ground. Certainly the extra weight of a human on its torso didn’t help at all. 

Eddie was in shock for a moment, unsure of what had just happened. Looking around he turned and saw he was now face to face with the mermaid. Their eyes locked, both of them wild and concerned. Eddie snapped himself back into reality before he could get lost in the ocean eyes again. 

“I-I’m sorry.  Shit , I’m so sorry,” Eddie stammered, his body weak and his arms aching. He rolled off the creature and onto his back. “I’m sorry,” He croaked, the failure settling in. 

He didn’t move his gaze from the ceiling over his head. He didn’t want the mer to see his eyes as they filled with tears. Something cold rested on top of Eddie’s hand. Hesitantly, he dragged his eyes over to the creature beside him. The hand held onto his own as the mermaid’s lips offered a tight but comforting smile, as if to say,  it’s okay, really . Eddie shifted his hand ever so slightly so the mer’s hand fit more comfortably in his. The webbing that lined the fingers of the mermaid’s hand tickled Eddie’s. Its thumb rubbed slow circles over Eddie’s knuckles. 

“A-Are you okay?” Eddie whispered worriedly. 

The creature was in pain, for sure, but it nodded anyways, for the human’s sake. 

Neither of them were sure how long they stayed like that, hand in hand, breathing laboured and heavy, eyes on the ceiling. Although at some point Eddie’s arms felt a smidge better, and his breathing had returned. That’s when he knew he had to try again. 

“1....2...3!” Eddie lifted the mermaid off the ground again. It seemed just a little easier than last time. This time he kept his breathing steady, and kept his eyes going from the stairs in front of him to his goal, the bathroom. 

Once they stood in the middle of the upstairs hallway, Eddie took a minute and stood and caught his breath. He noticed the way the mer’s eyes drifted and examined his new surroundings. But something caught his eye and Eddie felt one of the arms slowly move away from his neck. Hesitantly he turned his head just in time to see the clawed hand reaching out for Eddie’s own little creature that sat in a fish tank that lined the hallway. It was his pet betta fish, Goldy. (He wasn't a creative kid, okay?).

“NO!” Eddie exclaimed, almost dropping the mermaid again. The sudden motion caused the arm to wrap back around Eddie’s neck in fear of being dropped. “Do  not  eat my goldfish. She is a friend, not fucking food,” he practially growled. 

The creature shrank away, not a fan of the tone Eddie had gained. As much as it wanted to lean  away  from the boy who just scolded him, it leaned  into  Eddie, it liked the warmth his skin gave off. It curled a little deeper into his touch, putting his chin on top of his shoulder and nestling into the side of his face. 

Eddie got the mermaid settled into the bathtub and immediately noticed a change in its mood. Suddenly its eyes had a new sparkle to them and his lips were always semi smiling. 

Eddie sat on the closed toilet seat and took in the sight before him.  A mermaid in my bathtub… This’ll be one hell of a diary entry  . “So! I-er, I hope this isn’t rude, but are you a girl or a boy? I know you don’t have boobs but I really don’t know how this whole  mermaid  thing works,” Eddie stopped himself before he kept rambling. 

The mer lifted two fingers in the air.  Two, second, second option. “Boy?” Eddie tilted his head. The creature nodded. He sighed in relief, “Good, good… I-I’m Eddie by the way.” The creature nodded again then ducked his head down into the water and blew bubbles up at the human. Eddie huffed in amusement at the gesture. 

The human’s stomach rumbled again. He rolled his eyes in response. He didn’t even bother telling the mermaid- merman? Merman. He didn’t bother telling him he was gonna leave cause the mer looked like he was having the time of his life blowing bubbles down under. Once he was in the kitchen, Eddie tried to be quick, opening up every cupboard and checking everywhere for food fit for a fish. The only thing he came across that seemed semi-suitable were fish sticks. Eddie eyed them for about half a minute before ripping the bag open, throwing them into a container then shoving it in the microwave. He made himself a quick sandwich, cheese and ketchup (That was the most unhealthy food Sonia ever let Eddie eat so let him be). He’d barley chewed his first bit before the microwave beeped. He held the sandwich in between his lips and held the container with both hands, moving it between the two cause it was hot. 

Once he was back in the bathroom he took his seat back down on the toilet seat and set the container on his lap. Eddie quickly ate his sandwich, only when he looked up did he notice the merman’s eyes were sitting out of the water, watching him like a hawk from behind his sea glasses. 

“Hungry?” Eddie asked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

The merman lifted the rest of his head out of the water at the sight of the food. Eddie held up a fish stick, “Okay, I know this is like processed shit but,” he sighed, tired of all the talking and manual labour he’s been doing, “It’s all I have.”

The mer shrugged and opened his mouth, asking Eddie to feed him. The human was taken aback at the gesture, but he gave in and picked up a fish stick, tearing a bite-sized chunk off. Eddie leaned forward and held it out just in front of the mer’s face. Its lips felt soft against the human skin as it took the food from him. It gulped it down happily then opened his mouth up again. The fish finished the whole container. 

He opened his mouth again and Eddie scoffed, “I’m all out fish boy! I guess I’ll go get some stuff tomorrow,” Eddie motioned to the empty container. The fish let out a low grumble as he sunk back under the water and blew bubbles at Eddie, as if showing attitude.

“Oh shut it trashmouth,” Eddie retorted, the nickname just slipped out. 

The water sloshed against the side of the tub as his eyes burst back out of the water. 

Eddie let out a nervous laugh at the sudden movement, “W-What? You like that,  trashmouth? ” Eddie said in a teasing manner. The mer’s lips smirked from underwater. The sight brightened Eddie’s smile. 

“Well,  trashmouth, I have no clue what time it is but I’m tired as fuck. I’m gonna go to sleep. You should too, so you can heal,” Eddie advised. He stood, took a step towards the tub and ruffled the fish’s hair. The mer leaned into the touch, the both of them enjoyed the physical attention.

Word count: 7604

I hope you guys liked the first chapter! Let me know what you think in the comments. I will see you guys next week with chapter 2, Sushi and Speeches. Until then, So Long And Goodnight.

~

[Taglist]

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[imagine-loki]

Stubborn Independence

TITLE: Stubborn Independence 

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 2/10

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine Loki struggling to adjust to someone who is independent and insists on paying for themselves all the time, even if it is a struggle sometimes. They need to do everything on their own. They never ask for help and refuse help. Just imagine Loki really wanting to spoil this person. Imagine how creative he would get to make life easier on this person who has captivated him.

+

Imagine being a talented singer at your local club. Loki comes in one night with Thor and the others (he’d rather be anywhere else but who turns down free drinks?) and gets ensnared in the voice of the beautiful singer on stage. Suddenly, his interest (and arousal) are more than piqued.

+

Imagine getting into a petty fight with Loki, so in retaliation, he puts everything on the top shelf where you can’t reach? 

AUTHOR’S NOTES: College AU. Loki is determined to take over Odin’s company. He works hard and has a strict schedule for success. However, with the interference of Thor and the other four, Loki’s plans are often interrupted so they can play matchmaker.

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

A loud booming call for Loki made his stomach upset. The rapping of knocks and another call for Loki to join him made Loki growl.

“Brother! Come out and socialize!”

There were other voices in the common area as the main door shut loudly.

“We are all in our sleepwear so come out!” Thor was silent for a moment and Loki could hear voices of all his brother’s friends talking and laughing. Thor yelled through the door again, “I will get you out of there.”

Loki set his book down with care accompanied by a sigh. Loki checked his appearance and made adjustments. When he opened the door Thor’s cheerful face received a glare. Thor gripped Loki’s shoulder and pulled him towards the living room. More people were there than Loki had heard and noticed all the new faces. 

A short but plump body caught his eye. Then the brown hair that was still able to catch some of the fading sun set that shone through the windows. Of course, the one person who he bumped into caught his attention. As if she felt his gaze, her eyes turned to him with a glance then back to Sif. The woman did a double take and stared at him with her mouth parted.

“No way.”

Loki saw the words form on her lips and he swore he could hear them.

Thor whispered, “do you know her?”

Loki turned to face Thor in an attempt to escape, “We bumped into each other earlier.”

Thor laughed lightly to himself, “you are the one to break her phone.” Thor spoke as he rolled forward on his feet, “Trust me. Drop the entire situation. She doesn’t take anyone’s help.”

The flicker of Thor’s eyes made Loki’s heart drop. Loki hissed, “I know that look. Stop it.”

Thor waved Fandral over and he quickly went to them once Thor winked and waved to Loki’s entire body.

Fandral asked with a grin, “Which one tickled his fancy?”

Thor purposely clapped Loki’s shoulder, talked slightly above a whisper as he stood beside him. “Sirena.”

Loki understood the purpose in the movement because Fandral’s eyes were able to follow Thor and easily go to Sirena’s form behind them. Fandral’s face lightened with a huge smile. “The bigger figures are nice to hold. I must say they are very soft.”

“What?- no. It’s not like that. I bumped into her and I offered to replace her phone.”

Fandral’s eyes flickered a bit to the other side of Loki with a huge smile, “oh dear boy.” His head rose and hand patted Loki’s arm, “move on.”

Loki hissed lowly, “It is not like that!”

Thor nudged Loki, “It could be.”

Loki glared at Thor, who’s head tilted towards Sirena that was passing by.

Fandral gently lead Sirena towards Loki.

Sirena’s eyes met Loki and time stilled. All the organs in his body stilled for a horrifying moment and his body worked hard to make his mind function. It was rushing with heat that made his hands sweat. Loki played with his hands by pure habit of nerves. A learned behavior to attempt to rid the sweat off his hands.

“Sirena! This is my little brother, Loki! I hear you BUMPED into each other.”

Fandral smiled brightly, “Loki is a great guy. Very intelligent. He actually got the one scholarship…” Fandral waved to Loki to pull information.

Loki could not believe this was happening. This was not going to go well at all. “The honors scholarship.” Loki cursed the involuntary nervous swallow after. 

Sirena’s face turned towards Fandral’s who switched from an unbelievable expression to the charming one with a bright smile to Sirena again. “Yes the Honors scholarship. He has two majors, business and something with computers.”

Loki corrected Fandral, “Business Management and Computer Science.”

Sirena’s eyes went to Loki’s and a smile threatened to fully form on those lips.

Thor clapped Loki’s back with a huge smile, “always learning a billion things a day.”

Sirena smiled with direct eye contact, “soon you will know all of the world’s secrets then?”

With a glance at the apparent wingmen, Loki tentatively smiled, “there are still over 6,000 languages I need to learn. But sure.”

Those beautiful eyes widened and a huge smile overtook her face, “Perhaps you could teach me a few. I would love to learn a few songs in a different languages.”

With an attempt to keep the conversation moving, “Casual listener or musician?”

“Musician. -well. Kinda.?” The one side of her face crinkled dramatically in a thoughtful expression. “I am in the Musical Therapist major.” Her eyes stayed focused elsewhere.

Loki’s butterflies fluttered in his chest, “Than a musician. I would think you play for others?”

Her smile hesitantly returned with her eyes back on Loki, “it is mostly just little bars and hopefully soon practice in group therapy sessions. Everyone participates to a certain degree in the sessions.”

Thor spoke up and gestured to Sirena, “Mother said there were going to be music therapy groups this semester at the medical building.”

Loki watched as Sirena’s head tilted to the side slightly. “Who is your mother again?”

Thor smiled, “Frigga Odinson.”

“Ooohh. The chairperson for the medical majors. She is the nicest person I have ever met in my life. Also most patient and best at time management- she is my academic advisor too.”

Fandral teased with a small nudge, “don’t you have like, a billion jobs?”

Sirena returned the nudge a little harsher, “some people learn a billion things in different ways.” Her hair got a little out of place but she moved it with no care.

Fandral winked, “Well then are you still able to model?”

Sirena groaned, “you didn’t.”

Fandral smiled brightly.

Sirena pushed him away, “You ass! I’m going to quit.”

Fandral teased, “That art class would be dull and boring without you as a subject.”

Loki froze again.

There was no way he was going to be able to draw her. A quick glance down her body made the nerves leak out his hands. She had full breasts that gave ample cleavage from beneath the the long sleeved v-neck. Her waist distinguished with a slight inward curve and a small protruding belly. Her hips were wide and thighs that definitely looked soft… Loki’s eyes took interest in the drinks on the counter.

Fandral’s voice pulled Loki from his mind. “You agree Loki?”

Loki looked into the little circle of conversation, “what?”

Fandral smiled, “did you really think an art class would not have real models?”

Sirena crossed her arms, “Don’t get so excited Fandral. The least you will ever see me in is professional, plain bra and underwear. Besides, sometimes I get draped with some sort of cloth or clothing.”

“Such a pity.” Fandral laughed loudly at the rough shove. “I deserved that.” Fandral kept the step away to let Sif in. “I really think you have the anger of a wasp nest if you are poked wrong.”

In a quick movement Sif stepped back and Sirena whacked Fandral. 

Fandral yelped and flinched at the slap on his arm, “women slaps sting so much worse.”

Sirena smiled cheerfully, “just a small wasp sting.”

Fandral stepped further away and Sif stepped in again. There was an announcement that a movie was going to start soon. Sirena, Volstagg, as well as a few others left to make more popcorn in the kitchen.

Thor hugged Loki, “that was great brother!”

Fandral shrugged, “well. It was a little rough, but through some coaching from yours truly. Loki will have a date soon enough.”

Loki jumped in to halt the conversation, “no..”

Fandral continued as if Loki said nothing, “Sirena is somewhat a rare breed of women. She refuses all and any help. Even gifts. We know you are not exactly on a good foot right now with the whole, "I can get you any phone” thing. So Loki my friend she is not what you are used too.“

Loki hissed, "What’s that supposed to mean? That I am not her type?”

The wingmen and Sif exchanged looks.

Sif spoke for everyone, “yes.”

Thor seemed to feel Loki’s hidden hopes deflate, “Loki. You are completely different than who you were when we were younger. Your gifts now are… just items to appease. A woman like Sirena craves sincerity, and sentimental moments to remember.”

Sif spoke up again. “She would rather have a photobook of memories than an item to dust off repeatedly. Here look…” Sif sorted through her phone, “these are of last summer. We went to a few caves. She literally jumped off a cliff.”

Then there were all the pictures of caves. Everyone holding various critters native to caves. Water and land pictures all throughout the day. Loki figured at least 50 pictures had the whole group in the images. Cliff jumping into water below. The huge amusement at people laying on the beach that were in the previous pictures cliff jumping.

Loki felt the life and fun pouring out of those pictures and made him yearn for an exciting experience. Loki’s phone went off and it was time for him to go to bed.

Fandral urged Loki, “Stay up. Common. Loki. School has not started yet. Just drink some caffeine.”

Loki glanced at his phone. He already lost all of his reading time and usually Loki would be yawning but he did not feel even slightly tired. He canceled the alarm but doubled up on a wake up alarm. 

The movie was interesting and a moderately nice change. There was scenery Loki did not need to imagine like he had to with a book. Everyone discussed parts of the movie to the degrees of funny commentary or serious discussion.

When the movie was over, some people have already left for bed, but Loki’s body was alert with Sirena around.

She was so overly affectionate. She seemed to find a way to touch everyone. From shoves and highfives to rubbing arms and hugs.

She hugged him goodbye.

Her body was smaller than his in height but curse Fandral for stating the truth that fuller bodies were soft. She seemed to squish onto him in a wonderful way. Her hug made his heart flutter then fly to his throat when she parted slightly to crane her neck to show a smile.

“You give really nice hugs,” she muttered as she hugged him tighter.

Loki fell asleep easily that night.

He woke to a thump of his book falling on the floor, his alarm and a jolt from the dread of knowing he was late. He was exhausted from not being on schedule and cursed the morning for not getting proper rest. 

Loki went through his things to do for the day. The plan was to get back to his dorm and sleep without enjoying a little reading time. 

[eye-zen]

SILENE

The sun blended with the bright blue sky like an ornament. Waves crashed on the beach, bringing with it small stones from the sea and sand that became buried between her toes. An ocean breeze opened her nasal passages and a gust of sea salt covered her inhale, The white sandy beach was empty and serene as if she were the only human left on earth. For that moment, I’m sure she wouldn’t have minded if that were true. Using her right pointer finger she drew in the sand, writing, “Where Am I Right Now ? “ As she finished writing, a wave swept along the beach erasing her words.

*TIK TOK TIK TOK TIK TOK TIK TOK TIK TOK”

 Her hand was balled up in a fist resting on her right cheek,reluctantly holding her head up. She looked at the clock across the room as it read 8:07 am. The sound of the clock was the loudest thing in the empty office. Echoing a constant reminder that this would be her serene beach for the next 8 hours or 28,800 tik toks to be exact. Her desk was covered in a mound of paper that would be better suited for a beach bonfire but….who wants to get fired on a Friday.

Usually she sat at her desk diligently doing her work and occasionally looking out the window. Daydreaming about staring out of a plane or reading a novel under a palm tree. Her daydreaming at moments felt so real that she became upset whenever she “snapped back to reality”.  Wishing one day that her eyes opened and the image of what she imagined would not escape her brown eyes.

She finished her tasks just before noon with a wearisome four hours remaining to the end of her shift. Opening her laptop she exited out of the work programs and logged on to the internet. 

Searching google, she typed the question “How Do you lucid dream ? “  An array of images and articles flooded the screen with many directions and tips for lucid dreaming. She clicked through at least 6 pages of tips before the alarm on her phone went off signaling the beginning of lunch. Reaching in her tote, she retrieved a black plastic bag with a bowl of yesterday’s dinner. It was still warm from this morning as she heated it up before leaving the house. Sitting at her desk and eating she continued to look through the many articles and images. There were thousands of people with advice but who was right ?

As she continued browsing…her phone vibrated from a text message…

You’re right, The world has finally gone crazy lol…

Yes, I know lol…

If there was a off button to make everyone STFU I would like to push it..

Lol well I think there is. It’s called Wifi and Tv. 

Lol wow, I think you’re right. I’m literally witnessing people go crazy. Just from watching the news on TV and self proclaimed scientists, politicians, and news reporters on social media. 

Lol yea i see. Well today I was spared from those at work but well see how the rest of the day goes.

.Lol right, Well what are you doing later ?

I’m not sure yet. No plans, just going home and relaxing, maybe go to the beach.

Ok cool, The beach ? what beach are you going too.

None smh..lol I wish though, Have to speak things into existence. 

Yes! You’re right about that. I’ll speak to you later.

Okay…

Time after lunch went relatively quickly. She read enough about dreams to receive her bachelor’s degree and doodled enough to fill a whole children’s book. The clock read 3:50 pm. She thought to herself, 10 more minutes until I’m free. She began cleaning her desk and organizing the folders back accordingly. There was a pile of papers of doodles accumulated from the day. She began throwing them away in the trash. One drawing in particular captured her attention so she decided to keep it. Folding it neatly and placing it in a small zippered compartment on her bag. After a final check of her desk she stood up and left the office.

On the way home she stopped at the grocery store and ran a couple of errands. Once she entered her front door a sigh of relief hit her like falling on a thick pile of feathers. 

She placed her groceries on the kitchen counter and washed her hands. Sat down in the chair and answered an incoming text message.

Hey, do you still want to go to the beach ?

 what ? I mean yea but when ? I know you don’t mean now.

Sure..yes, now..sooo do you still want to go ?

Do you see what time it is

Yes, I know. We have all the time in the world. 

Lol ok. If you say so…

.

She unpacked her groceries then walked to her bedroom. After undressing then headed to the shower. Bathing herself with a sweet lavender soap that washed off the filth of the day. Following her shower she went back to her bedroom and threw herself on the bed. There, she laid and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. The black oscillating fan dried her off and swayed her curtains back and forth. Her bag lay at the side of the bed, she rolled over, unzipped a pocket and pulled out the drawing she kept from work. It was a drawing of a beach. There was a full moon that shone bright in the night sky leaving a streak of glistening water in the sea. On the beach was a small bonfire pit and a few feet away from that was a large blanket just under a leaning palm tree. She stared at the drawing for a few minutes before placing it on the nightstand near her bed. After a few deep breaths she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

*ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS, FLIGHT NUMBER 1135 WILL BE BOARDING IN 15 MINUTES. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO GATE 7 AND PREPARE TO BOARD YOUR FLIGHT*

The airport was hardly crowded. It was a Tuesday afternoon with a slight overcast. A few people could be seen stretched out on airport chairs awaiting their flight as a few other gates began boarding. Two or three airport workers were canvassing the terminal wiping down seats and searching for trash on the floor. She had a bag of chips that were almost finished and a bottle of water she used to wash it down, Her black sweatpants and hoodie had managed to accumulate a few crumbs. With her phone in her lap she used her pinkie finger to swipe through music switching from song to song. 

After finishing the bag of chips she wiped her hand with a paper towel and made her way to the bathroom and back to the boarding gate. Passport and ticket in hand she passed through the gate and walked down the long corridor to the plane. The flight was relatively empty. When she boarded the plane and sat down there were plenty of seats unoccupied. She was assigned to the middle seat in her row. After 15 minutes there seemed to be no one else coming so she moved to the window seat and placed her bag in the seat next to her.

*THANK YOU FOR BOARDING FLIGHT 1135 , PLEASE BE SEATED, FASTEN YOUR SEAT BELT AND PREPARE FOR TAKEOFF*

As the flight attendant began giving the flight instructions she turned her phone on airplane mode and put the playlist on shuffle. The plane began making its way up the airstrip and increased in speed. The plane’s engine began roaring as her back pressed firmly against the seat. Within seconds the slowly began ascending off the ground and towards the sun. She opened the window cover and was now adjacent with the clouds. 

 *GOOD AFTERNOON LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN SPEAKING. WE WILL BE CLIMBING TO 30,000 FEET. PLEASE REMAIN SEATED UNTIL WE REACH THAT ALTITUDE. THIS FLIGHT IS SCHEDULED TO TAKE 5 HOURS. THE WEATHER IS PRETTY CLEAR UP HERE SO WE EXPECT A SMOOTH RIDE. SIT BACK RELAX AND THANK YOU FOR FLYING WITH US. 

*BUZZZ BUZZZ BUZZZ*

The phone vibrated the bed but it was nowhere in sight. With eyes still closed she felt around for it until it stopped vibrating. The fan was still spinning like propellers and had moved the curtain just enough to see out the window. The sun was down but the last bit of light created a purple hue in the sky covered by fresh white clouds. She rolled over and the phone was just under her left leg. When she looked at it, it read…

DO YOU STILL WANT TO GO TO THE BEACH ?

SURE, WHY NOT…

OK MEET ME AT MY HOUSE IN 50 MINUTES…

OK..

She laid in bed for a few minutes before heading to the kitchen for a drink. While she was in there, she grabbed a bottle of water and walked back to the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of her bed she browsed through her phone for a few minutes before preparing to go out. 

I AM ON MY WAY..WILL BE THERE IN ABOUT 7 MINUTES.

OK…..WHEN YOU GET HERE JUST OPEN THE GATE AND COME IN.

OK…COOL

The sky was black as tar and the stars painted trails across its surface. The moon was full and occasionally blanketed by passing clouds. There was a slight breeze, warm enough to wear shorts but cool enough for a long sleeve shirt or hoodie. As she approached the black gate, insects could be heard speaking in the bush and dogs barking in the distance. She opened the gate as it squealed and closed it gently behind her. Immediately a hammock caught her attention hanging just under the house. She laid her bag down on a nearby chair and sat in the hammock. As she sat down he exited the front door of the house with two cups in hand.

WHAT’S UP…I HOPE YOU AREN’T ALLERGIC TO NUTS.

NO, I’M NOT.

 OK COOL…WELL I MADE A SMOOTHIE. IT HAS BANANA, NUTMEG, PEANUT BUTTER, HONEY AND DATES

UHhhh…..SOUNDS INTERESTING…

JUST TRY IT….

OK.

She took a sip of the smoothie and didn’t die so she began drinking some more.

OK, SO IT’S NOT THAT BAD

LOL OK COOL

Yea SO WHAT BEACH ARE WE GOING TO THIS TIME OF NIGHT.

WELL WE HAVE TIME, BE THERE IN A MINUTE. 

They both sat there and drank their smoothies until finished. Talking and discussing their days and plans for the weekend. 

WELL I KNOW YOU HAD A LONG WEEK…

HOW WOULD YOU KNOW THAT ?

BECAUSE YOU HAVE A JOB..DOESN’T IT COME WITH THE TERRITORY

 WELL IN MY CASE I CAN’T ARGUE WITH THAT..

SO I WANT TO HELP YOU WIND DOWN AND RELAX 

OK…HELP LIKE WHAT ?

He walks back in the house for a few minutes and comes back out with a small bag.

OK…SO…THIS IS WHAT I LIKE TO CALL A DREAM KIT.

Lol ok….A DREAM KIT ? You just got weird on me,,

LOL NAH JUST TRUST ME.

He reaches into the bag and pulls out a bottle of lavender oil, diffuser , and Shea. He placed each item on the table just left of the hammock.

JUST RELAX…LAY BACK AND TAKE DEEP BREATHS. 

He picks up his phone and turns on a sound of waves, similar to the sounds at a beach. 

OK…WOW SO IS THIS YOUR BEACH….SMH

He then puts lavender into the diffuser, letting out a warm scent of lavender that complimented the brisk night air. As she takes deeper breaths her body relaxes more and she falls deeper into the hammock. He grabs a piece of shea from the small container then puts a flame to it. The shea begins to melt in his hand and spreads across his palms. He then picks up the bottle of lavender oil and puts a drop in his hand along with the shea. Rubbing his hands quickly together he creates heat and then grabs her foot. Firmly squeezing until the heat transferred from his hand to her feet. She takes an even deeper breath and inhales the soothing lavender air. He began firmly pressing on her feet inch by inch removing the tension as the stress began escaping with each press. A few minutes had gone by as she laid in silence and gently moaning from the massage. 

ARE YOU OK ?

She replied…Yes.

 OK, well I need you to do one thing for me. 

What is that ?

I need you to continue breathing slowly and deeply. Focus on your inhale and your exhales. Synchronize your breaths with the sound of the waves. 

OK, and then what ?

 WITH EVERY INHALE THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT AND WITH EVERY EXHALE DISPEL ALL NEGATIVE THOUGHTS.

OK…

Her body temperature began rising and her breaths got deeper and deeper. After a final exhale her body got a tingling sensation and everything went black. When she blinked her eyes she looked up at the moon and its mesmerizing presence. As she continued gazing at the moon she could hear the waves crashing in the background. Her eyes slowly panned until she was staring at the sea. In disbelief she looked around and realized she was on the beach. The hammock was now a large quilt and it was under a palm tree instead of the house. A few feet to the left of her was a small bonfire with crackling wood. She stood up and started walking towards the water. A wave washed her feet and removed all of the sand, only to put more in between her toes. She began walking up the beach, feet sinking deep into the sand with every step. She walked towards the moon which was so large it felt as though she could grab it. 

.

HEY ! ….you couldn’t hear me ?

Huh…um no. No, I couldn’t hear anything. 

Dam,Yea you was knocked out for a couple of hours.

At that moment an alarm goes off..

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Oh No not again… SMH

Not again what… What’s wrong ?

Don’t tell me this is another D…

Yes…….it’s another Dinner. That’s the alarm for dinner at the restaurant on the beach. Did you not like the food last time ?

She turns around and sees a trail of lights and hears the faint sound of laughter, music, and forks clanking against plates.

No, It’s ok, Lets go

We have to be there in 20 minutes. Let’s try to make it on time today,

They both started walking on the beach towards their belongings.

.

Wow..i Just had the weirdest dream. Felt like I was there……

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Stubborn Independence

TITLE: Stubborn Independence 

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 2/10

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine Loki struggling to adjust to someone who is independent and insists on paying for themselves all the time, even if it is a struggle sometimes. They need to do everything on their own. They never ask for help and refuse help. Just imagine Loki really wanting to spoil this person. Imagine how creative he would get to make life easier on this person who has captivated him.

+

Imagine being a talented singer at your local club. Loki comes in one night with Thor and the others (he’d rather be anywhere else but who turns down free drinks?) and gets ensnared in the voice of the beautiful singer on stage. Suddenly, his interest (and arousal) are more than piqued.

+

Imagine getting into a petty fight with Loki, so in retaliation, he puts everything on the top shelf where you can’t reach? 

AUTHOR'S NOTES: College AU. Loki is determined to take over Odin's company. He works hard and has a strict schedule for success. However, with the interference of Thor and the other four, Loki's plans are often interrupted so they can play matchmaker.

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

A loud booming call for Loki made his stomach upset. The rapping of knocks and another call for Loki to join him made Loki growl.

"Brother! Come out and socialize!"

There were other voices in the common area as the main door shut loudly.

"We are all in our sleepwear so come out!" Thor was silent for a moment and Loki could hear voices of all his brother's friends talking and laughing. Thor yelled through the door again, "I will get you out of there."

Loki set his book down with care accompanied by a sigh. Loki checked his appearance and made adjustments. When he opened the door Thor's cheerful face received a glare. Thor gripped Loki's shoulder and pulled him towards the living room. More people were there than Loki had heard and noticed all the new faces. 

A short but plump body caught his eye. Then the brown hair that was still able to catch some of the fading sun set that shone through the windows. Of course, the one person who he bumped into caught his attention. As if she felt his gaze, her eyes turned to him with a glance then back to Sif. The woman did a double take and stared at him with her mouth parted.

"No way."

Loki saw the words form on her lips and he swore he could hear them.

Thor whispered, "do you know her?"

Loki turned to face Thor in an attempt to escape, "We bumped into each other earlier."

Thor laughed lightly to himself, "you are the one to break her phone." Thor spoke as he rolled forward on his feet, "Trust me. Drop the entire situation. She doesn't take anyone's help."

The flicker of Thor's eyes made Loki's heart drop. Loki hissed, "I know that look. Stop it."

Thor waved Fandral over and he quickly went to them once Thor winked and waved to Loki's entire body.

Fandral asked with a grin, "Which one tickled his fancy?"

Thor purposely clapped Loki's shoulder, talked slightly above a whisper as he stood beside him. "Sirena."

Loki understood the purpose in the movement because Fandral's eyes were able to follow Thor and easily go to Sirena's form behind them. Fandral's face lightened with a huge smile. "The bigger figures are nice to hold. I must say they are very soft."

"What?- no. It's not like that. I bumped into her and I offered to replace her phone."

Fandral's eyes flickered a bit to the other side of Loki with a huge smile, "oh dear boy." His head rose and hand patted Loki's arm, "move on."

Loki hissed lowly, "It is not like that!"

Thor nudged Loki, "It could be."

Loki glared at Thor, who's head tilted towards Sirena that was passing by.

Fandral gently lead Sirena towards Loki.

Sirena's eyes met Loki and time stilled. All the organs in his body stilled for a horrifying moment and his body worked hard to make his mind function. It was rushing with heat that made his hands sweat. Loki played with his hands by pure habit of nerves. A learned behavior to attempt to rid the sweat off his hands.

"Sirena! This is my little brother, Loki! I hear you BUMPED into each other."

Fandral smiled brightly, "Loki is a great guy. Very intelligent. He actually got the one scholarship…" Fandral waved to Loki to pull information.

Loki could not believe this was happening. This was not going to go well at all. "The honors scholarship." Loki cursed the involuntary nervous swallow after. 

Sirena's face turned towards Fandral's who switched from an unbelievable expression to the charming one with a bright smile to Sirena again. "Yes the Honors scholarship. He has two majors, business and something with computers."

Loki corrected Fandral, "Business Management and Computer Science."

Sirena's eyes went to Loki's and a smile threatened to fully form on those lips.

Thor clapped Loki's back with a huge smile, "always learning a billion things a day."

Sirena smiled with direct eye contact, "soon you will know all of the world's secrets then?"

With a glance at the apparent wingmen, Loki tentatively smiled, "there are still over 6,000 languages I need to learn. But sure."

Those beautiful eyes widened and a huge smile overtook her face, "Perhaps you could teach me a few. I would love to learn a few songs in a different languages."

With an attempt to keep the conversation moving, "Casual listener or musician?"

"Musician. -well. Kinda.?" The one side of her face crinkled dramatically in a thoughtful expression. "I am in the Musical Therapist major." Her eyes stayed focused elsewhere.

Loki's butterflies fluttered in his chest, "Than a musician. I would think you play for others?"

Her smile hesitantly returned with her eyes back on Loki, "it is mostly just little bars and hopefully soon practice in group therapy sessions. Everyone participates to a certain degree in the sessions."

Thor spoke up and gestured to Sirena, "Mother said there were going to be music therapy groups this semester at the medical building."

Loki watched as Sirena's head tilted to the side slightly. "Who is your mother again?"

Thor smiled, "Frigga Odinson."

"Ooohh. The chairperson for the medical majors. She is the nicest person I have ever met in my life. Also most patient and best at time management- she is my academic advisor too."

Fandral teased with a small nudge, "don't you have like, a billion jobs?"

Sirena returned the nudge a little harsher, "some people learn a billion things in different ways." Her hair got a little out of place but she moved it with no care.

Fandral winked, "Well then are you still able to model?"

Sirena groaned, "you didn't."

Fandral smiled brightly.

Sirena pushed him away, "You ass! I'm going to quit."

Fandral teased, "That art class would be dull and boring without you as a subject."

Loki froze again.

There was no way he was going to be able to draw her. A quick glance down her body made the nerves leak out his hands. She had full breasts that gave ample cleavage from beneath the the long sleeved v-neck. Her waist distinguished with a slight inward curve and a small protruding belly. Her hips were wide and thighs that definitely looked soft… Loki's eyes took interest in the drinks on the counter.

Fandral's voice pulled Loki from his mind. "You agree Loki?"

Loki looked into the little circle of conversation, "what?"

Fandral smiled, "did you really think an art class would not have real models?"

Sirena crossed her arms, "Don't get so excited Fandral. The least you will ever see me in is professional, plain bra and underwear. Besides, sometimes I get draped with some sort of cloth or clothing."

"Such a pity." Fandral laughed loudly at the rough shove. "I deserved that." Fandral kept the step away to let Sif in. "I really think you have the anger of a wasp nest if you are poked wrong."

In a quick movement Sif stepped back and Sirena whacked Fandral. 

Fandral yelped and flinched at the slap on his arm, "women slaps sting so much worse."

Sirena smiled cheerfully, "just a small wasp sting."

Fandral stepped further away and Sif stepped in again. There was an announcement that a movie was going to start soon. Sirena, Volstagg, as well as a few others left to make more popcorn in the kitchen.

Thor hugged Loki, "that was great brother!"

Fandral shrugged, "well. It was a little rough, but through some coaching from yours truly. Loki will have a date soon enough."

Loki jumped in to halt the conversation, "no.."

Fandral continued as if Loki said nothing, "Sirena is somewhat a rare breed of women. She refuses all and any help. Even gifts. We know you are not exactly on a good foot right now with the whole, "I can get you any phone" thing. So Loki my friend she is not what you are used too."

Loki hissed, "What's that supposed to mean? That I am not her type?"

The wingmen and Sif exchanged looks.

Sif spoke for everyone, "yes."

Thor seemed to feel Loki's hidden hopes deflate, "Loki. You are completely different than who you were when we were younger. Your gifts now are… just items to appease. A woman like Sirena craves sincerity, and sentimental moments to remember."

Sif spoke up again. "She would rather have a photobook of memories than an item to dust off repeatedly. Here look..." Sif sorted through her phone, "these are of last summer. We went to a few caves. She literally jumped off a cliff."

Then there were all the pictures of caves. Everyone holding various critters native to caves. Water and land pictures all throughout the day. Loki figured at least 50 pictures had the whole group in the images. Cliff jumping into water below. The huge amusement at people laying on the beach that were in the previous pictures cliff jumping.

Loki felt the life and fun pouring out of those pictures and made him yearn for an exciting experience. Loki's phone went off and it was time for him to go to bed.

Fandral urged Loki, "Stay up. Common. Loki. School has not started yet. Just drink some caffeine."

Loki glanced at his phone. He already lost all of his reading time and usually Loki would be yawning but he did not feel even slightly tired. He canceled the alarm but doubled up on a wake up alarm. 

The movie was interesting and a moderately nice change. There was scenery Loki did not need to imagine like he had to with a book. Everyone discussed parts of the movie to the degrees of funny commentary or serious discussion.

When the movie was over, some people have already left for bed, but Loki's body was alert with Sirena around.

She was so overly affectionate. She seemed to find a way to touch everyone. From shoves and highfives to rubbing arms and hugs.

She hugged him goodbye.

Her body was smaller than his in height but curse Fandral for stating the truth that fuller bodies were soft. She seemed to squish onto him in a wonderful way. Her hug made his heart flutter then fly to his throat when she parted slightly to crane her neck to show a smile.

"You give really nice hugs," she muttered as she hugged him tighter.

Loki fell asleep easily that night.

He woke to a thump of his book falling on the floor, his alarm and a jolt from the dread of knowing he was late. He was exhausted from not being on schedule and cursed the morning for not getting proper rest. 

Loki went through his things to do for the day. The plan was to get back to his dorm and sleep without enjoying a little reading time. 

[crsinclair]

No Extreme G-Force Required

This whole thing is based off this post by @shir-oh-no.

Enjoy! (cross-posted onto ao3 here)

It all went downhill for him after the motorcycle crash.

He’d just accepted a job at the Garrison as a Test Pilot and of course the day before he was to fly out there and officially join the ranks some idiot in a red corvette ran a red and did their damned best to smear him across the streets of Manhattan. When Shiro had woken up, his hair was long, his bangs were white, and he was not only missing his right arm but four months.

When he’d finally had the strength to figure out what had happened, he contacted the Garrison to find out what had happened to his position. “Due to the unpredictability of your recovery,” the woman on the phone had said, chipper and not caring that Shiro’s heart had stopped, “we canceled your position here at the Garrison and handed it over to the next available applicant.”

And not only did Shiro suddenly no longer have a job, they had taken his medical coverage with them.

The hospital was nice enough to not kick him out immediately, but Shiro had only gotten his legs under him again (literally) before they had said he was “good to go” and let him walk out the door, massive bill in hand. He couldn’t remember how he had made it back to the small house he owned (he was so thankful that it wasn’t an apartment he could get evicted from), but he flopped down onto his couch with a heavy sigh and stared at the number of zeros attached to his medical bill.

“…Fuck,” Shiro whispered roughly.

It was a few days after that he was finally able to sit down and try to come up with…something of a plan. A bit hard, especially when he realized he couldn’t just write things down anymore considering his dominate hand was gone and let’s not go into where that thought left him for nearly an hour but he made due. He didn’t need the car in his driveway – he wasn’t going to try and drive stick with only one hand, and especially since he couldn’t afford the physical therapy to help him figure things out – so that could go. And he didn’t really watch television, so the 50” in his living room could be sold on Craigslist, right? And while his motorcycle was totaled and he would never be able to ride it again, he still had all the tools he used to keep it in perfect condition. Those were expensive, right?

In the end, the list of things he was getting rid of was about 3 pages long.

It was several hours that he spent posting each thing online individually, painstakingly doing his best to take photos of everything with his phone and not cry type everything up one handed. Once that was done, notifications of people liking his postings popping up every now and then (but not offering to buy), he took a deep breath and looked up jobs.

And if Shiro had thought his situation was depressing before, then wow he was in for a surprise.

Turns out, even with the excuse of being in a coma for four months, not having a job for too long was not good for your resume. Didn’t matter that he lost his last position due to a medical emergency, didn’t matter that he had two separate degrees in both Aeronautical Engineering and Astrophysics, didn’t matter that every manager or boss he’d ever had thought he was God’s gift to mankind. He apparently was unable to hold a job and “disabled”. So all the salary jobs that he knew he was qualified for?

Well.

Every cent, every penny that he’d managed to put away into a saving account over the years was soaked up by bills so quickly that within days of his fruitless search for a job he knew that if he didn’t cut back somewhere then he was probably going to starve before he ever got a call back. So with great reluctance – great, great reluctance – Shiro turned off the heating. “It’s fine,” he told himself, ignoring the tightening in his chest, “that’s what blankets and layers are for, right?”

It didn’t matter that since he woke up he couldn’t hold onto heat, but who cared?

Two weeks after that he stopped trying to buy fresh food and stuck with things in cheap packaging.

Four weeks after that he had to call his internet provider and cancel, deciding to just use the unlimited data on his phone plan.

A few days after that he sold his laptop - it was a recent model, and it’s not like he really needed it now without internet.

The week after that? Shiro found himself staring at the paperwork to sell his house.

-

He had managed to save half of the money he had made off his house and use it to rent out a small, cheap, small efficiency. Did he mention it was small? It was small. There was just enough money to pay for the first three months and a month of electricity, which gave Shiro a little bit of time to try and find some place that would hire him.

Salary jobs were now out of the question, and so Shiro turned to the papers for just about anything.

But no one - no one - would hire him.

The restaurant owner? Politely told him that they’d already found someone to man the host stand and that they were looking for servers with “more experience”.

The grocery manager? Didn’t look him in the eye to tell him that he didn’t fit the personality profile they were looking for at the register.

The convenience store manager? Nervously said that they were looking for people who were younger and “more capable” while staring at where he’d pinned the sleeve of his right arm up. If Shiro had the money for it, he’d take the discrimination to court. But hey, he couldn’t afford to pay for the gas to heat the water in his fancy efficiency, so hiring a lawyer was out of the question. Instead he slowly made his way through the papers daily, hiding around the corner at the local Starbucks to steal their wifi, and called any and every place looking for a helping hand.

He just needed one. Please.

One morning he’d blearily stumbled into the bathroom and caught himself in the mirror. Still tall, but his hair had grown…even longer, the stubble on his face was forming into a beard peppered with white, and his face seemed thin. Thinner than he’d ever seen it.

“Wow. No wonder no one will hire me,” he croaked to himself. He didn’t spend much longer looking in the mirror after that.

But that once look told him that, yes, he did need to try to do something about his appearance. The only problem with that was, of course, the cost. A hair cut? He’d go down to a Sport’s Clips and get a cheap cut - his usual undercut was pretty cheap, and he could just skip the hair wash - but getting a shave? That was…a bit more.

Shiro did his best to shrug on his jacket and walk down to the shop, struggling with himself over the decision to get both. Perhaps he’d just get the shave and leave his hair? He never did like having more than just a little bit of stubble. But then he’d still have all his hair that he had no way of putting up. So maybe he’d get his hair cut and stick with the beard.

But. God, he hated having a beard. And his brief look in the mirror showed him that he really didn’t look good with one.

He needed to look his best whatever that was anymore for an interview.

Of course, Shiro’s internal conflict distracted him from reality, and just as he was passing by the entrance to the Starbucks, something thin suddenly met his shoulder. He stumbled, yelping a bit and startled when something hot and wet splashed across his shoes.

“Ah - ¡Mierda!”

Shiro blinked, turning to look at what he’d stumbled into, and saw a young man, clear tanned skin and dark brown hair cropped short yet stylish, and was that an Armani scarf draped across his shoulders? “I - I am so sorry,” he managed to get out - and his breath was punch from his lungs when two fierce blue eyes snapped up to meet his.

“Dude, I haven’t even had to chance to have a sip of that!” the man snapped, one hand moving to his narrow waist and the other waving his now empty coffee cup in the space between them. “I’ve been out of state for months and I haven’t had a good Pumpkin Spice latte since last year, and because you can’t fucking watch where you’re going it’s gone!”

Shiro winced. “I’m sorry, really, I-I was just lost in thought - “

“If you’re really sorry then you’ll be paying for a new one!”

“I - you’re right, absolutely,” Shiro babbled, hand going into his jacket pocket and fumbling his wallet out. “Right, sorry, I - here - “

He was doing his best to pull the twenty out of his wallet out of the money pocket when he froze.

‘Wait,’ he thought, staring at the wrinkled bill caught between his pointer and middle fingers. ‘I can’t just hand over the money. I need this - to get a shave or a haircut to get a job, to pay for groceries.’ He pressed his lips together and blinked quickly. ‘Damnit, I can’t…’

“I…” Shiro swallowed, licked his lips and avoided the man’s eyes. “Sir, I’m sorry, but. I can’t afford to pay for a new cup.”

“What?”

Shiro winced, chancing a glance up and cringing at the frown on the unfairly pretty face. “I’m sorry. If I had the money, I’d pay for the drink, I promise, but I can’t - “

“No, no, no, wait. Hold on.” The stranger stepped back a pace, frown deepening and looking him up and down. Shiro fidgeted, anxiety creeping up his throat. What was with this guy?

He was stared at for a few uncomfortable moments, and just when Shiro was about to try walking away - seriously, what was with this guy - the man’s frown smoothed out, lips twitching upwards. “…Okay,” he suddenly said, shoulders dropping and whole posture going from tense to loose in no time at all. “So I probably could have been watching where I was going, too. My bad, all’s forgiven. And I might have ruined your shoes, so.”

It was Shiro’s turn to stare.

“Hi, I’m Lance,” the man chirped, sticking hand out - his left one - with a wide grin. “You’re Takashi Shirogane, right?”

“I - how - what?”

Lance snickered, reaching out and taking Shiro’s hand - still holding his wallet - and shook it firmly up and down a couple times. “Nice to meet you. Though, uh, I wish it coulda been under better circumstances,” he said sheepishly. He released Shiro’s hand (Shiro barely managed to not drop his wallet in bafflement) and pointed down at Shiro’s feet. “Seriously, I think I might’ve ruined your shoes. I can buy you a new pair, if you want?”

Shiro did drop his wallet at that.

“Wh-what? No, no, that’s - that’s fine, it’s fine - “ Though now that Shiro looked down at his own feet he could see that his shoes had definitely seen better days. “I’ll just, just throw them in the wash or something - “

Lance slapped a hand to his mouth in horror, face actually going a few shades pale. “NO! You can’t do that! That’s - no!” He shook his head, frantically tossed his empty cup into a nearby trash can, and grabbed Shiro by the wrist. “No, my dude, I can’t let you do that, nuh-uh, I am buying you a new pair of shoes right now!”

“What!? No! You don’t need to - sir!” Shiro attempted to dig his feet in, but Lance’s thin frame was surprisingly strong or maybe he’d lost strength.

“It’s Lance, Mr. Shirogane, and you not having a pair of nice shoes is a goddamn crime!”

-

The next hour was the most fast paced Shiro had ever experienced in his life. Lance had drug him into Paul Evans - Paul Evans, what even - slapped him onto a bench next to the dressing rooms, where an attendant quickly came up and Lance started quickly speaking to the man in rapid Spanish, and suddenly Shiro was trying on several different types of shoes of all different styles. He blanched the first time he caught sight of the price on one of the pairs, but Lance simply rolled his eyes and said they were going in the keep pile. The attendant refused to say anything to him unless it was a complement.

Lance had then flipped out his phone and called a cab, said some short words to the attendant with a smile, told Shiro to quickly slip into one of the pairs in the keep pile, and without even grabbing the rest of the shoes grabbed him by the wrist and out the doors to a cab that was already waiting. “B-but you didn’t even pay?”

“I’ve got a credit there through some business,” Lance shrugged. “They’ll box up the rest and get them delivered to my place.”

“I, um. Thanks, Sir - “

“Lance.”

“ - but I was really just stepping out to get a hair cut?”

Lance beamed. “Where do you think we’re going?”

Shiro shortly found himself in a very stylish Salon - the kind he thought he’d only ever see in movies - and sitting in a chair getting the best scalp massage he’d never thought he’d ever get. Lance was speaking swiftly to the woman rubbing magic over his head, again in quick Spanish, and before he knew it Shiro was getting his hair towel dried, brushed, and buzzed into…into his old undercut. He didn’t even get a chance to ask about it before he was being leaned back and a warm towel draped over his face, and ten minutes later he was staring at himself in the mirror with smooth cheeks and his white bangs a soft floof styled just out of his eyes.

Lance grinned, slipped a few bills into the woman’s hands - w-were those one hundred dollar bills - before kissing her on the cheek and pulling Shiro out of the chair. “Come on, hot stuff, you’re not done yet!”

“Sir, why - “

“Lance!”

“ - why are you - ?”

He never got the answer to that question, as he was dragged into a store just across the street - O.N.S., Jesus - and Lance was tossing shirts and jackets and pants at a very eager attendant and Shiro was pushed into a changing room to try everything on. The storm of clothing eventually ended (in which Lance had Shiro come out so that everyone could tell him if it worked or not - and Lance, strangely, seemed to pray whenever he came out to the main area), and Lance simply popped the tags off the clothes Shiro had on and tossed them onto the keep pile before grabbing his wrist again and pulling him down the street.

Which is how, finally, Shiro found himself in a booth of a busy restaurant with a pasta dish in front of him, smelling strongly of lemons, garlic, and butter.

“I mostly come here because the garlic knots are amazing, though not nearly as great as my Uncle Estaban’s,” Lance said, waving around his fork of spaghetti. “Come on, eat up, my dude, you look half starved!”

Shiro blinked down at his food - chicken limone, with penne pasta instead of linguini (much easier to eat with just one hand) - and carefully picked up his fork, stabbed a few pieces of penne, and took a bite. For the first bite of real food in over two months, it was phenomenal. He groaned around his bite of food, loving the taste of the lemony sauce mixed with the sprinkles of parmesan and minced garlic.

“…Oh my god,” he choked out once he’d swallowed, and Lance grinned brightly.

“Right!? Amazing food, I swear.” Lance chomped down on his forkful of noodles, slurping it up noisily - and spattering the marinara sauce over his nose. “Seriously, eat up - I’ll keep chattering away to fill up the awkward silence and when you’ve finished eating what you can then we can talk, m’kay?”

Shiro hesitated, glancing from his plate of steaming food to Lance’s face. “Are you…I mean, why are you - “

“Eat up, and then we’ll talk.” Lance softened his grin into a soft smile, blue eyes sparkling. “I promise, nothing bad - I don’t even want anything. Promise.”

He licked his lips, turning his eyes back to his plate, and slowly started eating. He heard Lance giggle - of course someone that pretty would giggle - and start to fill the air between them with nonsense, talking about the weather, the price of gas in Taiwan, whether or not he was going to throw a surprise party for a ‘hunk’ after New Years.

Eventually Shiro had to concede defeat and lay down his fork, little less than half a plate of pasta left. He noticed Lance give his plate a calculating look, but the man quickly sported a sheepish expression once he saw Shiro looking at him. “We can get that boxed up to-go for you,” he said, taking some bread and using it to swipe up that last of the sauce on his near empty plate. “Maybe even get you some dessert? The raspberry cheesecake here is amazing.”

“Um,” Shiro said eloquently, fiddling with his napkin. “No, thank you. You've already bought so much for me today, I don't, don't want to put you out of house and home. This is – I really was only stepping out to get a hair cut?”

He wasn't entirely sure why that came out as a question.

Lance laughed, pure and hearty and lighting up his face. “Oh, no, no, you're good. I wanted to, really! You're not putting me out of house and home, promise. I've been looking for something to spend all this money on.” Lance leaned back in his chair, giving Shiro a considering look. “Which it's looking to me like you needed.”

Shiro tensed in his seat. “I...”

The man across from him blinked, then suddenly flushed pink, expression going sheepish again. “Wow, sorry, um. Foot in mouth,” Lance snickered to himself, scratching at his cheeks. “Hold on, I keep forgetting I didn't fully introduce myself earlier. Lemme start over, 'kay?” He straightened in his seat, stretched his hand across the table – again, his left – and put on a wide, charming smile. “Lance Mcclain, Professional Dancer, Dance Instructor, and Former Airforce Hopeful.”

“Oh,” Shiro said, blinking, and with a small smile shook the hand offered to him. “Former Airforce Hopeful?”

“Yep. I'll be honest, Mr. Shirogane, I had followed your career for a long time, back when you had first started in the Airforce,” Lance said, hands breaking up the bread into little pieces. It seemed like he was constantly needing something to do with his hands. “I'd always wanted to be a pilot, and watching your career there grow was a huge inspiration for me. Never got the chance to join, though.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I'd been dancing since I was seven, and when I was sixteen I was good enough to take part in some small time gigs back when I lived in Florida – paid enough for me to save up for college and help out my Mama some.” Lance gave a somewhat bittersweet smile to the table between them. “At one show, though, the technicians didn't secure the lightening too well and halfway through it all tumbled down. Lot of heavy electrical equipment falling onto some more really sensitive equipment, which sparked a hell of a lot, and as luck would have it, that show also had a lot of pyrotechnics. Needless to say, it all blew up – and I was the lucky fella who was closest.”

Lance reached a hand up to tug his scarf aside and tilted his head so the dim lighting of the restaurant caught on his slim neck. Shiro gasped when his eyes landed on the twisting scars that curled up towards Lance's ear, his own arm throbbing in sympathy. A thin smile twitched on Lance's lips and he smoothed the scarf back in place. “I mean, I healed up fine. But the damage had been done, and I was rejected by the Airforce due to a 'Compromising Spinal Injury'.”

“I'm sorry. That sucks,” Shiro said meaningfully. He was already going through life with the knowledge that he'd never be able to pilot again. But having the dream and then having it ripped away before it could be realized? He didn't even want to think about it. “And you're – you're still dancing?”

“Oh, yeah, no troubles with that at all! Dancing just fine! In fact I just got done with a tour down in South America doing some Star Camps for the young and hopeful. Lots of fun, lots of dancing. But yeah, no extreme G-Force required. Though now that I think about it, some really cool things could be done with a show using G-Force, but wow I am off topic, that's not really what I wanted to talk about!” Lance laughed. “Normally I'd be more than happy to talk about my dancing exploits and skill – I am amazing on a pole - “

Shiro choked on his tongue.

“ – but the reason I brought that up is to say that, yeah. I recognized you, though it took me a bit to place your face, what with the beard and 80's rock band hair you were sporting.”

“Ah. Yes, that was...I didn't mean to let it all get quiet out of control like that.”

“Yeah.” Lance frowned, leaning forward on the table, blue eyes kind. “I remember hearing about the crash you were in seven months ago. That's, uh...that's how that happened, yeah?” He nodded at Shiro's arm.

Shiro licked his lips, suddenly nervous. No one since the hospital had bothered talking to him about the accident. Everyone just “politely” ignored the fact that he was short a limb or stared at him but never said anything.

Honestly...it was nice that Lance was making an effort at all.

“Yeah. Some idiot ran a red and...well, I woke up from a coma four months later to this,” he said roughly.

Lance's frown deepened. “And the job you'd been promised at the Garrison to test the new model planes was given away to someone else.”

Shiro paused. “How'd you know that? I didn't think that was common knowledge.”

“I've got a... Well, I wouldn't call him a friend, pre se, but I know someone who works for the Garrison,” Lance said. “Also someone who looked up to you, though I think you guys may have met. Do you remember Keith?”

“Keith?” Shiro furrowed his brow.

“You know, never smiles, tends to be kinda angry, mullet?”

“...Keith Kogane?”

Lance smiled. “Yep! That's him. He was still in training when you guys met. He said it was a few years ago, and shortly after Keith completed training he was offered a job at the Garrison. Lemme tell ya, he was so looking forward to working with you, but when he'd heard you'd been dismissed from your position there while you were still in the hospital, he threw a fit.”

Lance's smile tightened a bit, and a somewhat fake laugh escaped him. “I mean, he called up while I was still on tour down in Argentina to rant about it. He may have also gotten in trouble with...uh, what's his name. Some dick named Iverson, I think. Almost got kicked out.”

Shiro eyed the man across from him carefully. “Okay...so, where are you going with this?”

Lance's lips quirked up, and the tightness almost disappeared. Though not quite. “Well, Mr. Shirogane, I...I mean, you're life kinda got flipped upside down in the last year,” he started slowly. “From what Keith told me, you get kicked out of your job and that...probably took your insurance.”

At Shiro's involuntary wince, Lance continued. “And spending that long in the hospital wasn't...cheap, right? I mean, I know mine wasn't, and I was only stuck in the hospital for a few weeks. I was lucky I'd been saving up for college...” He shook himself. “Anyway, no job, lots of bills, and down a pretty important limb? I...I can't really imagine it's been easy.”

Shiro kept his silence, frowning down at his lap.

“Um.” Lance cleared his throat. “Um, okay, don't take this weird or anything but. I mean, if you'd like,” he giggled nervously, “I could...maybe help you out?”

A shock speared through Shiro.

“Wha...” Shiro blinked, eyes snapping up to Lance's. “What are you – “

“I mean, it's just, I know you don't know me all too well but I promise I'm not weird or, or anything – okay maybe a little bit, apparently the fact that I like pineapple on my pizza is freaky to others – and you've been such a huge inspiration to me, even after I was rejected from the Airforce, and then I spilled coffee on you and I think maybe God or someone is telling me to help you? You can say no it you want, I promise I won't get mad, though I may spend a good hour crying into some double chocolate ice cream later because wow I'm not the best at rejection and you're like, my hero, but yeah, you can say no, I just think you look like a sad puppy and wow I should probably shut up now.”

Shiro blinked again, staring at the rapidly flushing Lance across from him, the spew of words having been rushed and hard to take in. He took a moment, brain not quite catching up with everything in the last...however long it'd been since he'd stepped out of his tiny efficiency that morning. He furrowed his brow.

“You like...pineapple pizza?”

Lance stared back at him, blue eyes wide, and then burst into laughter, bright and delighted. “Out of everything I just word-vomited out at you, that's what you took away? That I like pineapple on my pizza?”

Despite it all, Shiro couldn't help but laugh as well. “Well, it was either that or focus too much on the fact that you just offered to...be my Sugar Daddy.”

For the first time since meeting him, Shiro got to watch Lance choke on his tongue. “W-well, I mean...not...it's...” He coughed. “Technically?”

“That's, uh, very kind of you, Sir.”

“Lance.”

“Right. Um. But...I don't think...”

He looked down at his plate, still half full of pasta. Even though he'd just eaten as much as he could and knew he couldn't eat another bite, his stomach turned at the thought of going another day of eating cheap canned and boxed food. Who knew how long it was going to be until he managed to eat this well again.

'You can't say yes,' a small voice in his head said, indignent. 'What about your pride?'

'What pride, though?' Shiro wondered, frowning. Ever since he'd woken up, everything that his pride once was apart of had been falling apart on him and just...rolling away from him. His pride in his work, his pride in his body, his pride in his home and belongings. Nothing stayed.

“...Can I think on it?”

Lance's guarded smile broke out into a hopeful one, and Shiro's hesitancy broke just a little bit more at the light he saw in his eyes. “Really? Uh, yeah, yeah!” The man near bounced in his seat, fumbling out his wallet and pulling out a small card. “Here, it's my business card if you wanna take a couple days.”

He practically threw it across the table in his enthusiasm, leaving Shiro chuckling. He glanced down at the sleek card, seeing Lance's name in full print, an image of a man mid-dance on one side, followed by a couple of phone numbers and a web address. “I guess I'll let you know?”

“Yes! That'd be - “ Lance was grinning so hard Shiro was sure his face was going to split. “That's great, yeah, let me know, I promise I won't pressure you or anything – just – yeah, okay!” Shiro couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. Lance, the pretty, well-put together man in front of him, was...really a huge dork, wasn't he?

-

Lance had swiftly moved the conversation after that to lighter things. And it was actual conversation, not just Shiro listening to the man talk about things. It turned out that Lance had a rather interesting understanding of the field of astrophysics, which...was a huge surprise and yet wasn't. The man was practically made of starlight. They talked about that for a while, followed by a chat about knowing Keith, which delved into a lengthy debate on whether or not the Garrison did human experimentation.

(“You can't really believe those rumors, Lance.”

“I can if there's some sort of proof! And I've got a man on the inside – he's looking for evidence every chance he gets!”

“Careful, Lance, you're starting to sound like a Cryptid hunter.”

“What? N-no! That's Keith! Keith!”)

Eventually, though, Lance smiled apologetically and called their lunch to an end. He paid without letting Shiro see the bill, calling their server over to box up the leftover food. “Let me know, okay?” he had said, pressing the to-go bag into Shiro's hand and opening the cab door (that he had called for him at...some point) for him. “Even if it's just to turn me down. Don't leave me hanging, man.”

Shiro couldn't help the smile on his face. “I'll let you know,” he promised.

He climbed in, Lance shutting the door gently behind him, and the cab slid smoothly into traffic. He turned in his seat, meeting Lance's eyes through the rear windshield, holding the image of him until the cab took a turn and the sight of the slim, pretty man disappeared from view.

The ride was silent in comparison to the past couple of hours. The radio played softly in the from of the cab, just loud enough to sooth over Shiro's ears and quiet enough not to clog up his tired brain. It made it easier to think around everything that had happened.

Shiro looked down, taking in the sleek shoes Lance had purchased for him earlier. Sleek, just barely broken in from being dragged around New York. The cuffs of a pressed pair of pants sitting just atop the sleek shoes, light as silk and soft as a cloud. He lifted his hand, pressing it to the fabric on his side – a fitted long sleeve with a high collar and a smooth vest over it. His hand rose and the pads of his fingers brushed his now smooth cheeks and drifted to the line of his hair, cut how he liked and styled for the first time in...a long time. Maybe it was a little over the top of what he'd personally buy for himself (and especially with the non-existent budget he currently had), but he felt...normal.

He let out a short laugh, more a breath than anything else. 'Well, more normal than I've felt since waking up.'

It wasn't long until the cab stopped in front of his apartment building. The driver waved him off when he attempted to pull some cash out for a tip. “That pretty boy already paid and tipped me,” he said. Really, Shiro should have seen that coming.

The cab drove off, tires crunching over concrete as Shiro turned to the building. He tucked the to-go bag into the crook of his arm as he pressed the buzzer; when the door clicked open – the whole frame shuddering, which always made him wince – he stepped through, tossing a tired smile at the young attendant working the desk.

“Hey, you the man living in number 237, right?” she called, voice heavy with the thick twang of New York.

Shiro paused, turning partly to give her a confused look. “Um. Yes?” he answered. He hoped it wasn't a warning about the water bill again, but instead of being met with a stern stare like he was expecting the young woman nodded before hopping off her stool and shuffling into the back office.

When she came back, her arms were laden with several boxes – with familiar name brands on them. Shiro's mouth opened in shock at the pile in her arms.

“These were dropped off 'bout fifteen minutes ago,” the attendant explained. She squinted at him, eyes dragging over his right side. “I, uh, take it you might need some help getting them up to your place?”

“I...sure?” he said. 'When did Lance...?' he wondered to himself, leading the woman dazedly towards the stairs and towards his apartment. From what he could remember, Lance had only gotten his address so he could call him a cab home – which happened about half an hour ago. Which, if Lance had taken the time to get the address sent out to get what basically amounted to a new wardrobe delivered to his place? 'That man sure works fast,' he thought. 'And has a lot more pull with those businesses than I thought.'

He unlocked the door to his apartment quickly and held the door open for the woman. “You, uh, you can set those on the table,” he said. “Thank you for your help.”

“No prob,” she grunted, rolling her shoulders after finally putting the boxes done. She sent him a wry grin. “Man, most people that live here can barely afford the rent. Iunno what you're doin', man, but if you can afford to shop at these stores and get it all delivered home, what the hell're you doin' livin here?”

Shiro could only let out a strangled laugh and show her out. He leaned against the door for a moment, breathing. He peeked over his shoulder at the boxes piled on his tiny table. They sat there, innocuous and innocent, and with a sigh Shiro locked the door and put his to-go bag on the counter. Walking over to the pile, he pulled one of the smaller ones to a clear space on the table and looked it over. O.N.S. was on the side, and with a bit of relief Shiro noticed that it wasn't taped shut. He didn't need the stress of trying to open anything with one hand and a sharp implement.

By working a finger under the lid he managed to pull it open. Thin packing paper was wrapped carefully around the contents, and Shiro tugged it aside to reveal a stack of neatly folded socks.

“Socks,” he said to himself. He stared at them – they ranged from plain black and white to bright pink and purple, some ankle length and some tube. And for some reason that made him laugh. A snort caught him by surprise, followed by a chuckle that crept out of him and the next thing he knew he was curled against the side of the single chair that was at his table, gasping for breath against the hiccuping laughs that kept escaping.

“S-socks,” he gasped. “He bought me fucking socks.”

It took a few minutes, but eventually he wrangled some control back to himself and, after wiping the tears from his face, carried the box over to his closet to tuck the new and stylish socks into their proper place. He eyed the socks that were already in place – old, all either white or black, and most of them with holes due to an irregular wash schedule and crappy washing machines and driers.

Over the course of the next hour, Shiro took the time to unpack all the shoes and clothes, carefully tucking them onto hangers (he'd figured out how to hang up his clothes with one hand the previous month without having to resort to using his mouth), tugged the older, less cared for clothes he'd been holding onto and packing them in the boxes like he'd done with his old sock. When he'd finished putting the new clothes away, neat and orderly like his belongings hadn't been since before the crash, he'd taken the boxes one by one downstairs to the dumpster. He'd hummed and whistled all the while, another thing that he hadn't done in ages.

The last box finally thrown out, Shiro eyed the closet with a since of right. He wasn't even really sure why he felt so good – all he'd done that day was step out for a haircut and then get dragged along on a wild ride.

'Maybe,' a small part of him whispered, 'you just needed someone to give you a chance.'

Shiro smiled.

He turned back towards the rest of the small room, and jumped when his eyes caught the to-go bag he'd left out on the counter in the kitchen area. “Dang it,” he muttered, swiftly walking over to the bag. “Complete forgot about this.”

He blamed the socks – he wasn't expecting the socks.

With a sigh he reached into the box, knowing that as long as he put the food away as soon as possible it would still be good to eat, but was surprised when he hand came across two boxes. He blinked, and pulled them both out.

One box was his leftover chicken limone, cooling condensation from the original heat dripping from the inside of the lid onto his food. The other box? A single yet generous slice of cheesecake, swirled with a dark pink and a thick sauce poured ontop. A small arrangement of raspberries were tucked around the slice, making everything look delicate and delicious.

“The raspberry cheesecake here is amazing.”

Later that night, as he tucked himself into bed, stomach full with good food for the first time in too long, the taste of raspberries and the cream of the cake on his tongue, he realized that he'd smiled more in a single day than he had in seven months.

-

“Hello?”

“Lance,” Shiro greeted warmly into the speaker of his phone. “How are you? It's Shiro.”

There was a crash and the sound of things – many, many things – falling over for a moment, before Lance's voice piped up eager over the line. “Oh! Hey, hey, h-how's it going? What's up?”

Shiro laughed. “Nothing much. Though it sounds like you've, uh, got your hands full on your end.”

“N-nah, this is nothing, nothing up, everything is just – cool,” Lance finished, and Shiro tried (he really did) to hold back his snickers, but he couldn't. The man was the same over the phone as he was in person.

“So I thought about your, um, proposal.”

“...And? I mean, it's entirely up to you, man, I said I wasn't going to pressure you into anything or anything and I just said anything twice, wow what is wrong with me - “ Lance's voice got quieter, as if he were holding the phone away from his mouth and trying not to be heard. Shiro laughed again.

“I think I'd like to take you up on it.”

There was a quiet on the other end. It stretched, long enough that Shiro worried for a moment that he might have broken the young man with his words. It wasn't until a tinny, distant, “Hey, Lance, you okay?” came over the speakers that he heard an intake of breath.

“Yeah, Hunk, I'm fine – more than, just...wow,” Lance replied to whoever was talking to him. He cleared his throat, and Shiro could near feel the nervousness over the phone. “So you're okay with me...um...being your sugar daddy?”

A choked off laugh escaped Shiro at the words, and he could swear he heard the person that was with Lance on the other end burst out into bewildered expletives. “Uh, yes, Lance. Under a few conditions.”

“Right! Yes, anything, man, whatever you say – Hunk, shut up, this is important!”

“One, never say Sugar Daddy again.”

“Well, I mean, you said it first, remember? When we talked about it - “

“Two,” he cut in, and Lance trailed off with a giggle. “I don't want to completely rely on you. Thanks for buying me those clothes and the food – you were right, by the way, the cheesecake was good (“I know, right?”), but I need some independence.”

“Sure,” Lance easily agreed. Shiro could imagine him nodding. “Yeah, no problem. I completely get that.”

“Great. Which brings us to three.” Shiro took a steadying breath. “No exchange for...favors. Completely non-negotiable. I'm not a, a prostitute, and I expect not to be treated like one.”

There was a great amount of sputtering on the other end of the line. “What!? Why would – prostitute!? Dude, I dunno where you got that idea – okay, wait, I kinda get it, but still, how could you – I would never – ”

“That being said,” Shiro continued, smile firmly in place as he listened to Lance sputter. He'd known before he said the words that Lance would be offended at even the idea. Of course he would be – the awkward embarrassment and babbling he'd done when he'd first brought the idea up to Shiro at the restaurant couldn't be faked. “I'd really like it if we could go on a date.”

“...Huh?”

“I said, 'I'd really like it if we could go on a date,'” he repeated. “Not now, since I only just got a job and it'll be a couple paychecks before I can afford to take you out - “

“Um, I – congrats on the job – wait, take me out?”

Shiro grinned. “Well, yeah. You might be my sugar daddy, but that doesn't mean I can't take you on a date, does it?”

“Why do you get to say sugar daddy?”

Shiro laughed. He couldn't help it. “Does that mean yes?”

“Uh, it means hell yes!” Lance laughed a bit, giddy, before coughing nervously. “Um. Can I ask why?”

“Why what?”

“Why you said yes,” Lance said. “I mean, you had only just met me, and when I look back on it I feel kinda like I was a total creeper, which sucks because I am way too young and pretty to be creeper, but – “

“You bought me cheesecake and socks.”

“....Huh.”

Shiro smiled. “You took the time to buy me cheesecake and socks. The cheesecake was an unnecessary treat that...well, honestly, it just made me smile, which.” He blushed, and was thankful that Lance couldn't see him at the moment. “It'd been a long time since I really had reason to smile. And the cheesecake was delicious.”

A breathy laugh came over the line, more a small, quiet rush of static in his ear, and Shiro's heart warmed. “And, uh, the socks?”

“I mean, you bought me shoes. Brand new, not even broken in brand new. Which means blisters if I walk in them too long at first without a good pair of socks,” Shiro said. “You could have just bought me the shoes and not bothered at all with a decent pair of socks. In fact, most people that buy someone else shoes just assume that the person the shoes are for have some socks they can wear with them.

“But you didn't. You didn't assume anything. You just...bought me socks.”

“I mean...sure?” Lance said, confusion coloring his voice. “But I still don't really...”

“I means you're thoughtful,” Shiro explained, smiling. “And like with the cheesecake, it's been a long time since anyone has been thoughtful towards me.” He paused. “Or you just really wanted to buy me socks.”

Lance burst out laughing, a helpless string of 'ha's' that tugged at something in Shiro. “Um. Wow, okay. That's great.”

“So... We're doing this?”

Lance hummed, a warm note in Shiro's ear. “Yeah, let's do this.”

[awellboiledicicle]

So it’s summer in game and i’m currently dating Sebastian but we only just started ok-- so I imagine we’re in that stage were we’re figuring out where we can make jokes about shit and so on. But like, through the friendship leading up to that point Sebastian is totally aware Farmer Moe has the habit of doing two things: deadpan joking about literally everything, or being so brutally honest about things that you’re not sure they’re joking. It helps that they also deal with anxiety-- if only because they’re prone to sitting in his room, reading his graphic novels to hide from other townspeople asking them for things, and they generally only ask him about things when he gets pissed off about code and explaining it helps solve the thing. 

This is relevant to the current situation in that.. well, it’s the dead of summer. He’s sweating his ears off his head, but dedicated to his aesthetic as he is, he’s not taking off his sweatshirt. Sebastian spends most of his time in the basement or out at night/in the rain so its really only a problem in the heat. Especially given the dark jeans and socks set up he wears around the house.  So, logically, when Farmer Moe comes more or less stomping down the stairs in leather boots up to their knees, dirt all over their shins, forearms, and face, and with nary a bit of sweat in sight-- they should know how to not bake. Farmers should know how to do that, right? “Hey!” “Yo, Sebs! How’s the localized heatwave?” They know he’s melting. They have told him to wear a tanktop. They have told him to pull his hair back. Shorts exist. He doesn’t need to wear socks. He was ignoring the bemused smirk as they tromped over and flopped onto the stool in front of his second computer. He tried mightily to not look too long at their skirt pulling up their thighs. “Able to ring your socks out yet?” “Ha, ha.” He was not going to tell them he flipped his hair and there were drops flung at his monitor in the last half hour. “..not yet.” They looked at his cheeks, at the slight sheen on the keyboard on his lap and back up. “You’ve been drinking water right? Because--” “Yes.” “I don’t see a glass.”  He reached behind him and pulled up a waterbottle, shook it and put it back on the floor. “What, we start dating and you turn into my mom?” “Nope, she just deputized me to bug you about your health. She’s carving my unofficial parent badge as we speak.” They snorted before getting an air of absolute seriousness. “Nah, I just worry about you sweating to death down here, turning into a puddle. Heat stroke is a real problem, whether you’re inside or out. You don’t move around much and you forget about drinkin’ water, babe. I don’t wanna walk into town to see Harvey and see you in a bed getting an IV.” “I wouldn’t let it get that bad--” He rolled his eyes and waved a hand. “Besides, i’d text you and you’d show up with about 30 bottles of water or whatever miracle you work to not melt in this hell.” Moe tapped their fingers on his desk and continued staring at him. “Seb. Babe. Hun. Sebastian.” Oh no. “..what.” “Seb.” They leaned closer. “Name three things you’ve seen me wearing this summer and two things i have not been.” “...what does this have to do with dehydration and staying cool?” “Leading up to it.” He ran through the various outfits, though to be perfectly honest he didn’t really pay that much attention until the last few months. With the exception of them causing a semi-uproar wearing tube and halter tops and an extreme hatred of sleeves, he didn’t know what they meant. He did recall his mother being amused when they got together, citing there bright and cheerful aesthetic and, well, tan. “Bright colors? Tanktops? Shorts?” They pursed their lips. “Seb, when was the last time you saw me wear pants. Pants stop happening when the temperature rises above 50 degrees.” He was processing this, looking down at their legs again. He was appreciating that he had reason to now process but he was pretty sure this was going to lead to a ‘change clothes’ point and he didn’t like it. “You’re going to tell me to change clothes, huh.” “Bro, my guy, hun.” “You never run out of those.” “Never.” They crossed their legs and he refocused. “I’m not saying this to fuck with your aesthetic. It’s you and you vibe with it and it’s very cool. But don’t fuckin’ die for it my guy. I hate being outside midday, so i do everything early and wear light clothes and toss on a flannel while i’m working closer to noon. I work in this get up early and late. I also go through like, a shitton of water. So much water. I’m just saying if it’s drying you out so bad, wear things that don’t.” Sebastian was still processing the fact that their advice was no pants. Not because it was... yeah, but because it was kinda funny.  He chuckled and they proceeded to screw up their face, making him progress to full blown laughing. “I’m serious!” They were poking at his arm trying to get him to focus, it only egged him on. “I know! I hear you! But your advice boils down to water and no pants!” He was just getting worse. They snorted and kept poking him, he retaliated with pokes. “Hey, I can do that too--” “Oh you can poke and be thirsty, but you can’t take your pants off!” This did nothing for the laughing situation, maneuvering closer to poke at Sebastian’s side. “What a guy!” “Oh my Yoba.” He gasped and stood up so he could grab them for tickle retribution. The poke started it, he was within his rights. Also, was laughing too hard to take anything seriously. “You don’t want me to take off my clothes right now-- I smell like one of Sam’s stink bombs.” This was said, of course, maneuvering to get the edge of his sweatshirt over their head.  “That’s why you shower and drink water. And don’t reveal your weak spots.” And he was doomed. They have farm animals and work on said farm-- BO is nothing. The poor man was trying to be cute, covered their head, and was tickled relentlessly.  Ended up on the floor with no air and his sweatshirt stolen. Granted, he was right about the smell. “Ok, you know what, i think i may need that parent badge if it gets you to not wear this inside. Oh yoba.. Do you have moisture in your body?” They poked him with the toe of their boot and he responded with going after the back of their knee. Foolish, exposing weakness.  “I live. I think the liquid is Joja cola and spite aimed at my latest client, but i’m alive. Also the floor is cooler than expected.” He squinted. “Are you wearing shorts and a skirt?” “No peeking for you.” He rolled his eyes and gave them a faux pout. Another snort and the smirk returned. “Skorts exist, like sporks, to reign over other garments in their superiority. Also, the floor is always the best place to be because cold air sinks.” “Coulda lead with that.” “Yeah, but this lead to you taking your sweatshirt off.” “.........damn.”

[casually fanfics out random thoughts

[tuellertrails]

Sunday, June 6 2021

This is an Adventure!

It’s been several weeks since my last blog post, and a lot has happened in that time! It’s exciting to see our progress and the miles that we have walked so far. At this point we are 652 miles into our journey, only 50 miles until we enter the Sierra Nevada Mountains and leave the desert behind. We’ve slowly built up our endurance and become stronger and stronger, able to complete over 20 miles per day on average over the past two weeks, minus a few days of extreme heat where our mileage was less. But no one wants to hear about that! As hikers, our conversations seem to revolve around how many miles we plan to go, what the weather is doing, the difficulty of the terrain, where the next water source is, and what kind of food we’re eating. To regular people, this must seem quite boring! To us, it’s as normal as talking about football around the water cooler with coworkers (or in Landon’s case, talking about Columnar Basalt for 10 minutes with other hikers around the pool).

Despite hiking longer days and doing higher miles, we always seem to be stiff and sore! Especially after waking up in the morning. A few weeks ago, we met another hiker couple who actually met hiking the Appalachian Trail a few years ago and ended up dating on trail and then got married earlier this year. Having done a thru hike before, they told us that this is normal! That we will still feel aches and pains throughout the trail, but we will do so having done more miles and harder terrain as we progress. I have found this to be true! It truly is very rare to wake up and feel excellent. Generally, every day feels rather tough to get moving, and we are very tired when we finally do stop hiking. Our physical and mental fortitude continues to be tested day after day, especially in this last 100 miles of hiking.

Leaving Tehachapi, we entered a heat wave in a rather barren and exposed section of trail. I think of all my time on the PCT thus far, this past week tested me the most. Hiking in 90 plus degree heat climbing up hot, sandy slopes with the blaring sun overhead was one of the hardest physical and mental things I have ever done. We pushed ourselves to either wake up incredibly early (around 4 AM) or hike in the dark in the coolness of the descending sun (until 10 and 11 pm). In the hottest part of the day, we would try to find some shade (not easily found sometimes) and take a rest for several hours. Not even the rest came easily though, as the shade proved to be little relief from the sun, and it was too uncomfortable to sleep much. Water sources were few and far between as well, about 20 miles away from each other (and only that close together due to the kindness of trail angels who maintain water caches for the hikers). We would sit at the water caches and drink several liters of electrolytes to “camel up” before heading out again, carrying 5-6 liters apiece (and sometimes still not having enough). The water weighs your pack down quite a lot, but we have discovered that we prefer to hiker with heavy packs than run out of water. This was another reason for our midday rests, we simply did not have enough water to hike in the extreme heat (nor did it prove to be very efficient). You tend to have to ration your water to a certain extent. Landon and I would set up our tent at night, and have conversations like “if we use 500 ml to make dinner, we can drink 500 ml of electrolytes and that will leave us 1 Liter apiece for the next 7 miles to the next water source. If we wake up at 4, we should be able to make it there with that amount of water before it gets too hot.” Logistics and planning are incredibly important out here. I cannot imagine how much more difficult it would have been to hike the PCT pre internet, pre Guthooks (the amazing app we use that has our maps, shows our water sources, etc). I’m so grateful for modern resources to help us plan our days safely out here!

To those of you like my good friend Tayler, who consistently tells me that I do a poor job convincing her that anyone should ever do this, let me talk a little bit about how incredible this experience is despite the hardships. First of all, the community on the PCT is wonderful. I joke that being on trail is a lot like being back in high school with your friends. You’re all sharing very similar experiences that bond you in a way that only other hikers can completely understand! My best example of this was earlier this week, when we set up a tarp at one of the water caches with our friend Jim. Jim is a lovely person, so friendly and fun to talk to. He is also the dirtiest hiker I have ever seen. He sleeps in the same clothes he hikes in and consistently has thick dirt absolutely caked to his legs. As such, I gave him the trail name Dirtcake, which he seems to have accepted (you can accept or reject a suggested trail name). As we lay under the tarp in our makeshift shade, the temperature being clocked in at 99 degrees by Landon’s fancy watch hanging from his trekking pole, we all laughed as we talked about how miserable and absurd this moment was! The wind was blowing fine grains of sand into us, which clung to our sweaty bodies. I looked down at Jim to see clumps of dirt not only clinging to his legs, but also to his chest hair and speckled across his face as he took a feverish nap. As we drank our hot Propel Watermelon water, we all laughed because this is our life right now, and there is no way around it, only through it, but at least we’re going through it together. At least in these less than ideal circumstances, we can talk and laugh and tell stories and experience life in a way that few people ever do. We can reminisce about having awakened to a beautiful morning in a pine forest just that morning, having filtered cool, clear mountain spring water, and that stark contrast that a few miles and 1500 feet of elevation descent can make. We can tell stories about the worst jobs we ever had and laugh about so and so’s crazy manager, or that one Karen customer that threw a fit that one time 10 minutes before the end of a shift (or about how Jim used to eat leftover food from customers at his high school food service job. He was truly meant for the hiker trash life!) It’s the contrast between these experiences that make little luxuries feel so much sweeter and more appreciated than I ever would have been able to know in my rather comfortable pre trail life.

Our 3 hours of tarp hell, suffered together at least.

Here are some things that I am immensely grateful for currently

- The hospitality of friends and strangers. We stayed for free with two friends in Tehachapi, Mitzy and Kristy, both of whom opened their homes to us to rest, shower, watch movies, soak in a hot tub, enjoy a meal, etc. We’ve also had complete strangers show us great kindness! Two wonderful women gave us a ride from Walker Pass into town yesterday, offering us charging cables for our phones, air conditioning, food in the car, and lovely conversation and company. Even the women running the motel we are currently staying in have been exceptional. They allowed us to do our laundry in their motel washer and dryer, fed us snacks poolside, gave us a discount and opened up an extra room (that is normally withheld) because all the rooms in town were booked. If you are ever in Kernville, CA, please check out Piazzas Pine Cone Inn, it’s an absolute oasis! And I would be remiss to not mention the trail angels who maintain the water caches in the desert. These people spend their own time and money (though we always donate if they have a donation box) to buy and transport water jugs back and forth to these remote dirt roads in the desert, just to help out PCT hikers that they don’t know and have never met. Isn’t that the kindest and most incredible act of service?

Being on trail with these other hikers, the most interesting and dynamic people, surrounded by the beauty of the natural world, is the best cure for cynicism and and upsetting news stories and angry political internet arguments. We’re all working toward a similar goal, supporting each other’s journeys, commiserating and laughing together, learning and growing and hurting and hiking. It’s so hard but it’s so wonderful. A couple of weeks ago, my mom made a comment to me that I couldn’t help but laugh at. She said “You know that you could take all of the money that you saved up for this hike, and just go spend a month or two on the beach in Aruba instead, right?” Ha! Yes Mom, I know. We could do that, and it would be much, much easier. A section hiker named Prospector gave us a button that says “This is an adventure.” And no one remembers vacations the same way that they remember adventures!

So as I sit writing this in the soft and very appreciated bed of our small town motel room, I can’t help but feel extremely happy. I know that in a few hours, I will leave the comfort and air conditioning and replace my heavy pack on my sore shoulders. I’ll put on my extremely worn out shoes that will surely leave my feet sore and give me some new blister or two in the coming days (unfortunately my new shoes never arrived due to a shipping mishap, and I’ve had to wear these about 200 miles past their ‘best use by’ date). I’ll sweat through my clothes and collapse from exhaustion and curse the day I ever decided to hike the PCT. But this is an adventure! You can’t ever lose sight of that. And we’re already 650 miles into this adventure! 25% of the way through! I’m so proud of that. Only 50 miles from the Sierra Nevada’s! Where we will enter a while new set of beauty and challenges, embracing it full on, grateful to leave the desert behind.

Here is my Mantra for the PCT, taken from one of my favorite books (recently read in my pre trail book club) The Book of Longings by Sue Monk Kidd


"Then I would rise, my legs snarled with cramps, my stomach panged with hunger, blisters on my heels—oh, but the world was large and mysterious and I was far from home, journeying with my beloved."

Thanks for reading, see you up the trail!

- Joscelyn

P.S. - I finally got my trail name! I am now AC/DC, which actually has nothing to do with any love of the band or 80s music (though I can get down to Highway to Hell as much as the next person). I was named by another hiker named Southern Hospitality, who gave it to me after hearing me blow up my pad with a miniature air pump that I have carried for the entire trail. As an ultralight hiker, he found it absolutely ridiculous and incredibly funny that I have chosen to carry this. It takes 45 breaths to blow up my pad! I hate it. The air pump is the best luxury and absolutely worth the 3 ounces. Landon’s trail name is Outlast, which he received several hundred miles ago actually. We were sitting in a shelter at a wind farm outside of Palm Springs, waiting out the heat of the day with some other hikers. Someone mentioned that the shelter seemed like a hut that would be built in the Reality TV show Survivor, and Landon told them that he had watched all 40 seasons of Survivor over the course of the pandemic. We spent the next 15 minutes talking about Survivor strategy, with Landon giving his expert tips as a student of the show. Our friend Tidbits told him that he needed a Survivor trail name, and so he was given the name Outlast (Survivors motto is Outwit, Outplay, Outlast). It also seems fitting because you truly have to Outlast the difficulty to be a successful thru hiker!

[jacewilliams1]

Volare: the family circle of fliers

The pilot pushed hard to the right, all the way to full power. He knew he was taking a risk and surrendered the horsepower available but was rewarded with a rise of less than a foot. He landed immediately somewhat hard to the left and then a more-hard right raising dust followed by a syncopated left-right-left combination only to slide the last several feet into the small opening in the circle arranged for him.

It erupted in laughter.

It was a family circle of fliers, though not all of them would agree to that description. Gathered high above the Amalfi Coast they had awaited the laggard as they neared the end of a six-mile hike.

Good judgment – as well as a healthy dose of self-preservation – had caused them to make a gap as the 250-pound Pilot came hurtling down the path, staggering to a stop.

On his left were the Skydivers: “Graceful!” they chimed in unison and chuckled privately about their own “Jinx-you-owe-me-a-Coke” moment.

Next to them, the Skier at 17, too cool. “Interesting,” he managed, a smile mostly hidden.

The Equestrian had no similar restraint – pealing laughter gave flesh to the crying-laughing emoji: “Whoa big boy! Slow it on down!” The mirth echoed down the valley as workers in the nearby lemon groves noticed and smiled at the boisterous, beautiful American.

Closing the loop, the Marathoner had nothing to say. She could only shake her head. She had seen it all before.

***

It’s magic according to some.

They met over a dog and the friendship became more. Hikes and runs were exciting to them, but not nearly as much as the thought of voluntarily departing a perfectly good airplane in flight. And so, they did. At 10,000 feet over Charleston, South Carolina, they engaged in the most foolish behavior on Earth. Well, the sky anyway. With Earth to follow shortly. They jumped.

“We knew we just HAD to do it,” he said, as she nodded vigorously. “There is no feeling like it!” she added.

“The rush of the wind, the view, the gliding down on the parachute…” he enthused, searching for the right words to sum up the experience.

She found them: “It’s magic. That’s all I can say, up there it’s magic.”

“We can’t wait to do it again,” he finished her thought and they smiled at each other, the shared memory indelibly linking them flier to flier.

Later that trip, they took what some would also consider a foolish leap when she accepted his offer of a ring.

Both high above the Tyrrhenian Sea and high above the Carolinas they knew:

In their hearts and in their minds, there was no place they’d rather be.

***

Man, we were flyin!

At three he started to ski. And though not a full-time mountain dweller, by 17 there weren’t many parts of lift-served Breckenridge he hadn’t seen. Or Copper. Or Keystone. Or Telluride.

Pick a terrifying run – Whale’s Tail, Devil’s Crotch, Needle’s Eye, Iron Mask, The Black Forest, Spiral Stairs, The Burn, Six Senses – he would only laugh.

“Been there, skied that.”

After a day with one of the top instructors in southwest Colorado dropping into the trees on 36-degree slopes and jumping off cornices 10 feet high, he reported with his best superlative:

“Man, we were FLYIN’!”

The smile on his ruddy, wind-chapped, happily exhausted face said it all:

In his heart and in his mind, there was no place he’d rather be.

***

Eventing, the British word for a day-long equestrian competition involving jumping massive immobile fences and showing how your horse can dance, has the dual charm of being one of the most expensive and the most dangerous of sports.

Pick 100 women at random and you will find one – there’s always at least one – smitten with training gigantic animals who can outrun a greyhound equipped with a brain the size of a peanut. The combination is unpredictable – and can be lethal.

Expensive and dangerous – what a combination.

The Equestrian knew all this and still paid her money and took her chances.

The experience has included broken bones in three of her four extremities and vet bills that would have the average person taking out a third mortgage.

But, oh how she can ride! On the right day with all the stars in alignment, the combination of horse and rider is a fluid tapestry of courage, commitment and craft, of human requests granted by beast, a thundering, leaping, twisting ballet that from a distance cannot be compared to anything else. Judges are trained to look for an illusion during the ride: effortless, lilting, in control, composed are the preferable descriptors.

The up-close reality is gritty, smelly, painful, costly – and enormously difficult.

The average fence is 3.5 feet high, requiring a vertical leap of 48 inches and a linear distance of over 9 feet. It is in this flying moment that all classic Eventing photos are taken and where horse and rider are most closely evaluated.

Those images of the Equestrian’s eyes reveal:

In her heart and in her mind, there is no place she would rather be.

***

She stopped counting the marathons at 10. That didn’t include the ultras that went past 26.2 to 30 miles plus or the half-marathons that are “only” 13.1 miles.

There’s a certain lunacy that surrounds a willingness to punish your body under a wilting sun for five hours or more. There’s a condition that goes with it, too: Athletic Heart Syndrome. After many kilometers, the heart swells and can increase its size by nearly 50%.

While the long-term effect of long-distance running is open for debate, ask any extreme athlete how they are feeling today. An honest response will release a litany of ailments: knees, backs, tendons suffer the most abuse; stress fractures are as common as shoelaces.

That medal is worth nothing and everything at the same time.

A female marathoner who finishes in 4 hours and 30 minutes has a stride of approximately 4.5 feet. It will take nearly 31,000 of those strides, some of them agonizing, to end up right where she started.

In the process she will lose 7% of her body weight and will spend 19% of the time off the ground. She will fly nearly five of the 26.2 excruciating, character building, awe-inspiring miles.

Her day will end in exquisite pain as evidenced by her grimacing smile over a limping gait, the only visible reward a trinket of metal and ribbon hung around her neck. It is literally worth nothing and everything at the same time.

She picks up this prize in a vomit-scented stretch just past the finish line where the best EMTs in the city watch closely. Heat stroke and dehydration are frequent; fatal heart attacks have happened. Her family anxiously waits nearby.

And yet.

On the next second Sunday in October she will rise before dawn to be one of 40,000 stories of guts, desire, exceptionalism and perseverance that line up in 80,000 carefully chosen shoes along Chicago’s Columbus Drive waiting for the starting gun, waiting for a chance to fly around the course. In truth there is another 10,000 or more who didn’t get the golden ticket, who would be there if they could.

Her steely determination and months of preparation prove:

In her heart and in her mind, there is no place she would rather be.

***

The Pilot checked the weather one last time at Albert Whitted Field (KSPG) in St. Petersburg, Florida. He made the decision to start.

It was not an easy call. It was not made lightly.

Work had expanded to later than planned and end-of-flight fatigue was a concern. But the 8-hour trip would make an 11-hour, 45-minute workday. This stayed within his self-imposed duty limit of 12 hours – barely.

Hard work sometimes, but oh so rewarding.

A fuel stop past the Smoky Mountains promised a garden variety instrument approach in an 800-foot overcast with moderate rain, but he would arrive before sunset. There would be clouds to deal with in Chicago, too, after night had fallen. No rain was expected there.

Worst of all he badly wanted to be home and knew that desire could complete a deadly chain. The weather the next two days would leave him or the plane trapped in Florida for the weekend if he didn’t go now.

Up the coast in brilliant sunshine, the windows of the aircraft magically turned to post cards every time he looked.

Man, he was FLYIN’!

The Cessna gracefully danced around and over the fences of afternoon clouds.

An annoying headwind, greater than forecast, fattened Georgia, Kentucky, Tennessee and Indiana, turning the night into a grueling marathon.

Breaking out of the clouds and spotting the runway 11 miles from home he knew:

In his heart and in his mind, there was no place he would rather be.

***

“Life is either a daring adventure or it is nothing.”

– Helen Keller

Most who live by those words are fliers, in one way or another. Try to think of an avocation, a passion, an adventure, that doesn’t involve the release of a person or object from gravity’s surly bonds. Those that don’t often use the verbiage of flight to describe some part of the activity or its tools.

Regardless of the risk or the cost, how or what they launch airborne, the pain, the fear, the preparation – those who refuse to allow their lives to be nothing are all a part of our circle.

They know the moment of flight where the daring adventure of life is attained.

***

The six fliers gathered the final time in the Italian sun. The Skydivers would stay behind in their bliss as the Skier, Equestrian, Marathoner and Pilot left by car for Florence.

The road along the coast is famous for its own brand of adventure. Carved hundreds of feet above the water, only a flimsy guardrail, ancient and in disputable repair, is between the vehicles and the sea. The driver seemed competent, although he spoke almost no English, and the car was relaxed and quiet as all took in the scene.

Rounding the corner near Positano, the Skier broke the silence.

“Those guys are insane!” he exclaimed pointing out the window.

On the ocean surface a half dozen jet skiers were screaming across the water, hitting waves and the wake of a passing cruise ship, launching into the air.

“Can you believe how high they are jumping?” marveled the Equestrian.

“Looks painful,” commented the Marathoner.

The driver noticed the commotion and pulled off the road onto the narrow shoulder, apparently to provide a better view. Before the Pilot could complain, the driver motioned all to draw near as he flipped through photos on his phone.

The first image was of a jet ski on a trailer. “La mia moto d’acqua (this is my jet ski),” he said as proudly as any Bonanza owner. The next image was of him astride the machine, his gap-toothed face smiling broadly as he squinted, his hair full of salt, sand and sea.

Then a series of images, some seemingly professionally taken, of him and his ship rising high about the waves. The circle formed tightly as the newest member was revealed and accepted as they praised his skill and bravery. He seemed to understand.

The Pilot pulled up a phrase book:

Volare.

“È divertente (is it fun)?” he asked.

“È la mia vita (It is my life)!” he declared. He tried to switch to English. “Bestest,” he said and paused, searching the Pilot’s face for understanding then resorted to a mixture of gestures, English and Italian.

He laid his hand upon his chest – in his heart;

He tapped his temple with a tanned finger – in his mind;

He made the motion of an umpire calling a runner safe and said:

“Nessun altro posto (there is no better place).”

The enlarged circle watched the show on the water for another minute and then the daring adventurer looked for one more picture.

“The bestest bestest here,” he said handing the phone to the Pilot. The jet ski was above the water in a flat attitude, his hands off the grips, feet trailing behind in the classic Superman jump, his body parallel to the moto d’acqua.

“Volaré,” he said. “That is bestest bestest. You know? Volaré?” He locked eyes with the Pilot hoping he made the connection.

The Pilot nodded and laughed out loud. Oh yes! The Pilot knew. They all knew. It’s the same in every language.

The Jet Skier had to say it one more time as he pulled back onto the highway.

“Volaré. The bestest bestest.”

The post Volare: the family circle of fliers appeared first on Air Facts Journal.

from Engineering Blog https://airfactsjournal.com/2019/10/volare-the-family-circle-of-fliers/

[dnowit41]

Letting Go of Dirk Nowitzki and Remembering Greatness

By Andy Tobo

The most important shot of Dirk Nowitzki’s life before 2011 was, of all things, a driving, baseline layup, Manu Ginobili’s hand on his wrist like someone trying to hold back history.

At the time it meant everything, and it should have meant more. It didn’t because of what happened in the Finals, and history swung away. After 2011, though, there were so many shots, and I almost feel like I remember them all. That game against OKC where a visibly frustrated Scott Brooks spread out a cornucopia of bigs for Dirk to roast, on his way to 48 points on only fifteen attempts. That three-pointer that arced so high it talked to god before coming down to barely bother the net on its way through. In the Finals, it happened almost every game. When it was all over, when the dust had settled, Dirk had secured his place in the basketball cosmos at the tender age of 32.

It should have happened earlier, a statement that has nothing whatsoever to do with Bennett Salvatore and whether Dwyane Wade deserved what he got. Had the rest of the NBA simply been watching Dirk between 2006 and 2011, which they would have had things gone better, they would have seen him average roughly 25 points a game while shooting .489/.391/.897, despite being so much the focus of other team’s defensive schemes, I’d be surprised if their coaches spent five minutes on anyone else.

And he did it with less: himself. A modern marvel of German engineering, Dirk is now sixth all-time in scoring despite shooting, on average, less than sixteen times a game (15.9). Jordan shot 22.9, LeBron is at 19.6, Kobe was at 19.5, and even Kareem, who also played forever, is at 18. He is one of the three or four deadliest offensive weapons in the game’s history, while taking about as many shots per season as Khris Middleton had last year.

He did so much with less, but the less counted against him, for so long, because he didn’t have the ring. He didn’t have a Kobe for his Shaq or vice versa, he didn’t have a David Robinson, or a Manu Ginobili and Tony Parker. If the guys he did have look comparable, today, for most of that time, it is almost exclusively because they were on his team, which gave them shots they hadn’t had since high school. You can’t find a guy who was important on the Mavs of the 2000s who is known for what he did after Dallas, and there’s a reason for that. Only nobody believed us.

The reality of Dirk

There’s nothing I believe in more than the fact that some day, some one will develop a stat that shows the reality of Dirk, how much more he did than the eye could see. It will explain how one great player took a team that, for example, started the first game of the 2006 Finals alongside Josh Howard, Jason Terry, Adrian Griffin, and DeSagana Diop to 145 playoff games and eleven straight seasons with 50+ wins.

I sometimes think he’d have been appreciated more if his teams were worse, like Kevin Garnett’s were, and like KG was. As if by making his teams better than Garnett’s wolf pups, he made it look too much like it couldn’t be mostly him. As if it’s somehow inexplicable how a titanic offensive force like Dirk would seem to be playing with better offensive players than a merely (sorry) really good offensive player like Garnett, by virtue of the shots that came their way. But then, in 2011, for no reason other than that his luck finally shifted, all that changed, and it has stayed changed. Nobody in the NBA is more universally beloved and appreciated than Dirk Nowitzki, now that his career is almost done. But 32 is too old for a basketball player to become famous and – unlike the rest of us, of course – he has since become older still.

Still, it might not have happened at all. It certainly didn’t look like it could when the series started – this was Mavs-Heat II, of course, but this was the mutant, Monstars version of what they had once been. It certainly didn’t look like it as the waning minutes of Game 2 ticked down, under the tense gaze of a scoreboard that showed a 15-point deficit, with a Game 1 loss already in the books. It certainly hadn’t looked possible before Game 2, when the Mavericks announced that, in addition to the loss of the game, Dirk would thereafter be suffering through a torn ligament in his left hand and a hundred degree fever. But it happened, starting with Game 2. The lead vanished. And with four seconds left, Dirk bounced right, rolled left, ducked between Chris Bosh and LeBron James, and hit a layup over Udonis Haslem with his broken left hand.

That night I said to myself the first time something I’ve told myself a hundred times since: sometimes, you have to hope even though there’s no reason to hope. And even when it isn’t safe to hope. And even though it hurts to hope. For the last three years I was caught in the waves of a brutal job market, never knowing where shore was. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think of giving up many times during that period, or that I think it ultimately worked out simply because I didn’t. But I wouldn’t have been able to make it through the worst times if I hadn’t been able to say to myself sometimes you have to be able to hope even when there is no reason to hope.

Reflecting on twenty plus years

I wanted to say something about a career that’s almost over. I don’t really know how. I want to say that if you just tuned in, in 2011, you were already too late. It’s not that Dirk in his early thirties wasn’t in some ways the best version of himself. The absolute best offensive players – and in my memory, only Dirk and LeBron have really gotten here – don’t beat you just by hitting impossible shots, they beat you with their complete mastery of the game. It’s a very hard thing to do, putting an entire team’s defense just where you want it, but that’s what they do, and did – they are planetary masses, shaping the gravity of the court, a higher basketball power. Nothing they do looks hard because they are where they want to be and you are where they want you to be.

That was certainly the Dirk who won the championship. Other than three-point percentage, nothing stands out about his 2011 numbers. Over his 145 playoff games, he averaged 25.3 and 10 while shooting .479/.892/.365, and in 2011 for the season it was 27.7 and 8.1 while shooting .488/.941/.460. But 32-year-old Dirk put the game in a cauldron and boiled all the fat off of it. Before you knew it, he’d have his back on you. If you jumped when he turned, he’d brush past you for a layup, and if you didn’t — and even most of the time when he did — he’d hit a jumpshot over you. And if you fouled him, he’d still make it, and hit the free throw. Simple as that.

But you can’t even imagine what Dirk used to be able to do. Even people who followed his entire career, as I did, can’t, anymore. I have this theory that we literally can’t help understanding a player’s entire career in terms of their current level of play. Kobe, who was at his worst an inefficient chucker hid how unbelievably deadly he had been by becoming more so over time — but resembling himself so much in the process that it was too hard to tell the difference. Dirk, too, is hiding behind himself. For one thing, people remember him, as they do all European players, as an outside shooting, light rebounding kind of big, but it’s just not true.

From 2003 until 2013, he took fewer than 23 percent of his shots from three every single year and all but three of those years, under 20 percent. He never averaged double-digit rebounds, but he grabbed 9.9 two years in a row, and believe me when I say that when it mattered, he was getting that board. In his one and only playoff matchup with Kevin Garnett, in 2002, he averaged over fifteen boards a game. When the Mavs beat Sacramento to make their first Western Conference Finals the next year, he grabbed 11, 12, 20, 11, 15, 12, and 19, then 15 in the first game against the Spurs — to go with 38 points on 10-of-19 shooting. Over his career, in playoff elimination games, he averaged 27.6 and 10.9.

Go watch a YouTube video some time — even those of us who remember, forget.

But I also want to say — as strongly as I can — that it doesn’t really matter. One half of a player’s career faces outwards, to the world. Do what you want with that part, I can’t stop you. But the other half faces in, towards those of us who were part of it. When a player matters to you, you own a little part of their career, and it becomes a part of your own story. For Dirk and Dallas, for those of us of a certain age, that’s more true than it’s been for almost anybody in the history of sports.

Every other character in the Dallas sports scene over the last 20 years has a bit part, compared to Dirk, and certainly nobody has 20 years. Tony Romo was the main QB of the Cowboys for about eight seasons, which is how long Adrian Beltre has manned third base for the Rangers. And it’s how long the JET was our shooting guard, before moving on. Twenty years. I was 13 when he showed up, all legs and elbows, and I am 33 now. Forgetting Dirk Nowitzki, after this season, after ten more seasons, after as many as I breathe air on this earth, would be like forgetting my own life. Do what you want, with the part you have. For me, I can see it all at once, like that long, dim corridor the players come out of, stretching backwards into shadows we cannot see. I see him coming out of that tunnel, at 20, 25, 30, 35, with different haircuts, a slowly dissolving gait. Maybe he will come out of it 80 more times.

Knowing how to live

It’s not enough, and it is. What I want you to know is that there will come a time, believe me, when you will wish everything had lasted longer. There will even come a time, not long now, when you begin to feel it while it’s happening. You will lose your youth, and some of those you love, and many more of those you love will be very far away. You will never have enough conversations with your parents, or your spouse, or your siblings. Some days, every minute I spend with my wife I think that I could never get enough of this, but time won’t stop passing. My heart could burst with it. It won’t stop being true. If “growing up” means anything at all it means finding the courage to go on, knowing how much will end, how soon. It’s a skill no one gains gladly.

But when that time comes you will know how to live, most days, with what has happened, as if it were enough. I could wish that I were in the middle of Dirk’s career, with ten productive years to go, and I also can’t live with the thought that they’d go any other way. I wish he had more rings, which easily could have happened, and he could easily have gone without having any at all.

I wish more people knew him, faster, but they know him now. He meant things to me no other player ever will — if I am less involved in basketball than I was seven years ago, and I am, it is at least 90 percent because I know that no sporting event could ever again make me as happy as Dirk Nowitzki getting the ring he deserved, in the most improbable fashion, against the most improbable team.

All I can wish, then, is that you will have, from sports, at least the bright days I have already had. Life is cruel, some stories will not end well, or will be too short — perhaps even yours, and certainly many around you. Some people are born at the end of an age, expecting the stability their parents enjoyed. I have already lost many friends, and relatives, and loved ones. I will lose many more. And all of us, if we live, outlive our strength. But maybe you don’t need a second chance when the first one was so beautiful.

This is the long goodbye. So is every day of your entire life, and this matters a lot less. But it mattered to me, and it’s a part of me, and that’s enough. I am lucky I grew up with Dirk Nowitzki, and it won’t ever have been any other way. It never won’t feel cruel, in some ways at least, to wake up where you are, and not where you were, whole landscapes of time suddenly stretching out beyond you. Because we want to hold on to some things forever. Because what we lose in time is truly lost, but we always feel like we just had it in our hands. Because we always think it will stay where we put it, that we will find it again if we just look where we remember it was.

In the end, the two things we can’t change are the past and what the past has done to us. What we have, we have paid for, one way or another. In this case, for Dirk, it was the hours and days in the gyms, for me the days and decades of hoping against hope and mostly losing. We are all sadder than we used to be, but maybe tougher, too. We are hopefully wiser, and everything leaves its marks on our skin. We are heavy with time, or we are growing heavier, and there is no other way it could be. What we own that no one can see — that’s what no one can take.

I am ready to watch Dirk play what is likely the last season of his career, as I never thought I would be. He is safe, his story already has a happy ending, and that part of my life, therefore, does too. We have held on to each other as long as we can, and it has been enough. Other things, I will never let go, until time pries the fingers from my hand. Some things you should never lose gracefully. And sometimes you have to hope, when there is no reason to hope. Either way, there is nothing we can do but keep jogging out of the tunnel until our time is up. We can live with that, and I can live with this. Ready or not, here it comes.

[blackguyineurope-blog]

ROSA PARKS RACIAL TREATMENT IN SEVILLE 2017.

It’s the hottest day of the year in Seville summer 2017, if any of you have been to Seville in the summer you’ll know it’s sweatier than the devils armpit were talking temperatures of up to 50 degrees Celsius so hot people don’t even bother going out before its dark. This is where they came up with the excuse to sleep and work practically 0 hours in the middle of the day, the official term in Spain for that is a “siesta”.

When it’s that hot people start to get impatient and lethargic you just want to be in water or shade you don’t want to be in public doing anything that requires any energy. I took advantage of the empty streets and went for a haircut, the reason being is because usually I have to queue a few hours when I go as I have afro hair and the choice in Seville for Afro hairdressers is non-existent, there’s literally one place. There aren’t too many black people in Seville but there’s enough to have more than one place to get your haircut so you can imagine how busy this place gets on a normal day.

 So I braved the heat went to the hairdresser and as I predicted nobody was there, even the hairdresser looked at me like I was mental. I got my haircut came out the building feeling fresh feeling clean feeling happy. I walk to the bus stop and wait in the shade for the bus, it pulls up I step in. The driver set off so fast because it was so hot that he had started moving before I had a chance to get money out my bag and pay him. Anyway I managed to get £10 out of my bag and passed it through the hole which separates the driver from the passengers.

 I’ve given him the money and he starts ranting and saying I couldn’t pay after 7pm with anything other than coins. I had no idea about this rule and I said to him I had nothing else on me which led him to telling me to get off the bus. I said to him how am I supposed to get off the bus when you’re driving and also why would you start moving the bus before I had the chance to pay you. He then started to say in Spanish out of nothing” you fucking niggas always causing problems and trouble for everybody”. This made me so angry I got up and told him to repeat what he said and I asked him why he said it.

Whist I was questioning what the bus driver had said, two older men who were at the back of the bus observing said in Spanish “get the fuck off the bus nigga”.  I was now sandwiched in a bus full of racists and I wasn’t having any of it. I started walking down the bus to confront the two old men who had been shouting at me and told them to get off the bus. They actually did get off the bus and when they did  I kept talking to the bus driver asking him what his problem was against “niggers” at the same time the old men who had left the bus actually waved down a police car and told them a “negro” was on the bus causing problems and being aggressive.

The police entered the bus and asked me to get off and wait by the Bus Stop. Whilst I am waiting at the bus stop all I can here is the driver saying I assaulted the other people on the bus and that I was refusing to pay and trying to get a free ride. When I overheard him lying and manipulating the situation it made me so angry my Spanish wouldn’t even come out of my mouth, I wanted to explain the situation so badly that I started speaking English. The policeman snapped his fingers in my face and told me in Spanish “here we speak Spanish” I told him it wasn’t illegal to speak English in Spain I was within my rights and this man had been racist to me.

 The policeman said that witnesses (the old racist men on the bus) had seen me attack the driver and refuse to pay and because I didn’t have any I.D on me at the time I was going to have to go down to the station and provide information. They started driving me to the station and when I started checking my bag for I.D (just in case I had it) they thought I was about to get a gun out or something dangerous by the way they reacted and started flashing LED lights in my eyes whilst pulling me out the car and cuffing me.

 I was in the cell 3 hours shouting “why am I here” this had all started because I was unaware of the bus rules in Seville and it escalated because of my race. After 3 hours of shouting and asking why the hell I was there they decided to take me home to gather some I.D and information. When I asked them why they needed all of the information they said to me “ this is just in case the victim wants to press charges against you in the future, if he does we will contact you”. I remember just laughing to myself hysterically thinking why the fuck did I get my haircut today.

[meeshes-on-tour-blog]

Envelopes 1-3

Standing in Heathrow Terminal 2 we found Andrew. We stopped to say hello and he asked us where we are going. We gave our standard reply to date. We don’t actually know. Then we explained the Blind Experience concept and asked Andrew if he’d be happy to film us whilst we opened our first envelope. He agreed. Full of unanticipated nerves we began to open the envelope and as I pulled the paper out I saw the image of Christ The Redeemer statue and started jumping around. Jules pulled the rest of the paper out and we saw a caption that read “Christmas in Rio”. I felt so happy and excited, as Rio has been my dream destination for a long time. Jules was thrilled too that we were going to such a fun-filled, hot, colourful place for Christmas, that neither of us had ever visited, that we could both explore together.

So, we set off on the first leg of our journey. First stop Lisbon. Where Jules thought he saw Mo Farah. He didn’t. Then a 10 hour overnight flight to Rio de Janeiro. Which literally translates as January River. I woke up as the plane was descending over the most beautiful hill tops covered in morning mist and little hats of white cloud. I had no idea the geography of the country was so undulating and mountainous. This birds eye view was truly breathtaking, exotic, but tranquil in the pink and golden sunrise. You could see settlements nestled between the valleys and orange dirt tracks snaking between them. This rural landscape then morphed into an urban one, as ramshackle flat-roofed, pastel coloured buildings and high rises, as well as dusty, soon-to-be traffic-laden roads, came into view. Even more impressive was the Atlantic Ocean and coastline that suddenly appeared. Broken up with jungle-covered headlands and bays, with sandy sweeps of beaches. A huge rocky peak of granite and quartz loomed out of the dark blue sea above the harbour, on a peninsula of Guanarabara Bay. It’s name is “Sugarloaf Mountain”, coined by the Portuguese in the 16th century, who named it so in reference to the important sugar cane trade of Brazil.

As we stepped off the plane I side-stepped a giant moth. Marco and us have a running joke about big moths, so that caused us much amusement. I wanted to move the moth to safety, but Jules said it would hurt her, so we left her sitting there. As we walked through the airport the first thing we noticed was the smell of humidity, wet and tropical, just like the Amazon rainforest we imagined. In our excitement to explore Brazil immediately, the long wait at customs was quite challenging, and I did lots of loud British sighing in my boredom. We entered the arrival terminal with our luggage, eyes peeled for a man with a sign.

The sign read “Julian Gallagher” so I jokingly waved goodbye to Jules and the man, and wished them a happy honeymoon whilst I looked for a sign with my own name on. But this didn’t exist. Jules therefore kindly let me come in his and Pedro’s taxi to the hotel. We drove past the oldest and most dangerous favella in Rio, and became immediately aware of the very real poverty that exists in Brazil today. No one from outside the more dangerous favelas are advised to enter or visit them. You may remember a recent news story of a tourist being shot in front of her family by members of a drug cartel whilst looking for water. I’m sure her lesson has been firmly learnt. There are tours of favelas operating, but these come with the obvious ethical dilemmas inherent in “poverty tourism”.

It was an exciting ride through the streets of Rio, and our knuckles turned white in moments as the taxi joined the highway crossing all four lanes following a casual, solo glance in the wing mirror. We began to climb through the beautiful cobbled streets towards Saint Therese, thankful for their speed-reducing function. Many of the taxi drivers won’t actually take people to this area due to the damage done to their tyres and suspension we learned in due course. We admired the graffiti and street art adorning so many of the city’s walls as we entered this affluent area of the city, sitting above Rio laid out below. Our hotel was a stunning oasis of calm in this crazy place. Palm and mango trees, vibrant flower beds, and a beautiful fountain with carp surrounded the old colonial style ex coffee plantation buildings, now converted into a hotel. The place smelled amazing as you walked in, and immediately we were reminded of Anran where we got married, due to the wooden, sculptural decor and white-washed walls. We were given a tour of the hotel which sits over several levels and had a lovely restaurant and bar on a terrace. Jules was particularly pleased with the timing of our arrival, as we arrived in the middle of a professional photo shoot by the pool involving lots of young Brazilian models in swimsuits and bikinis posing for the camera.

We were shown to our room which was very spacious with the biggest four poster bed we’ve ever seen, and a beautifully converted dark grey slate bathroom. The view over the hills from our white-shuttered bedroom windows and bathroom was gorgeous too, and the colonial Portuguese influence was clear to see in the other buildings around. We got the giggles soon after entering our bedroom when it became clear the couple in the room next to us may well be on their honeymoon too. We’ll let you guess as to why we thought this!

Soon after arriving and showering we decided to get out and see Rio. We therefore headed down to Copacabana Beach to see its famous sands. It was extremely hot and we soon stopped for a drink on the beach, only after seeing a man dressed as Santa with a full white beard cycling past on a bike. It was pretty touristy, so after more Santa spotting, which seemed very funny in 30 degree heat amongst tanned Brazilians playing volleyball and running along the promenade, we searched for a lunch spot. We used Trip Advisor to find a more traditional place selling seafood, and found a lovely place a 10 minute walk from the beach. It was small and cool with fans going full blast. The whole menu was in Portuguese so we used trusty Google translate to work out what we wanted to order. An old couple on the table next to us offered their assistance in helping us to order. The man spoke really good English and had lived in London in the 1960s. They had been married for over 50 years and stole a few cheeky kisses over the table. We explained we haven’t yet made a whole year of marriage, but are hoping for 49 more like them. We cheersed our cold beers, which are always served in ice buckets in Brazil…perfect. We chose a couple of delicious piles of fried fish on platters garnished with lime and red onion, and covered in hot sauce. Yum. And by the time we left the bar, we were hugging and kissing each other goodbye like old friends. The Brazilians we met were all so warm and friendly, with a chilled vibe, and fun sense of humour. They make you feel so welcome wherever you go.

Feeling refreshed from sitting in the cool, and energetic after our delicious meal, we ventured to “Sugar Loaf” mountain and went up by cable car. At the top there are the most stunning views of Rio and its beautiful bays. It was a real tourist trap, but was listed as the number one thing to do in Rio, so we couldn’t miss it. As the heat only seemed to increase, soaking the back of her clothes whenever we sat down, we decided the pool was beckoning. So back to the hotel we went, and dived, quite literally, into the pool. After a refreshing dip we lounged on the sun beds, me in the shade as usual, Jules in the sun, as always, and enjoyed some ice cold coconut water straight from a real coconut. After some sun, reading, and snoozing, we headed out for our evening meal in a treetop restaurant, where we opened our second envelope! We learned we would be going on a walking tour of Rio’s street art. This was right up Julio’s street, and he was really looking forward to it, as was I! Jules had done a similar activity in Buenos Aires and loved it.

So we were up early the next day for an amazing brekky at the hotel. Its contemporary dining room had stunning smooth concrete floors, and single-paned industrial steel windows over-looking the local area and its European style buildings. All of the food, including some very exotic fruits, was beautifully displayed, and coffee and tea was served from elegant silver pots and trays. I noticed that bowls and cups were particularly tiny, not sure why. I think we ate the world’s tiniest pancake there!

After our breakfast we set off on our 4 hour walking tour of Rio’s graffiti scene. We met Edmundo our guide for the day at a hotel by Copacabana Beach. He is from Rio and was very knowledgeable about all aspects of life from the favelas, where he runs tours, to politics. We saw a huge array of street art during our time with Edmundo. It was really encouraging to see that there are a significant number of female street artists creating work all over Rio. Graffiti and street art does not have the reputation it has in the UK, and is respected by people and commissioned by organisations and the government. A particularly incredible piece we saw in Downtown Rio was commissioned by the Olympic Committee of 2016, when Rio hosted the Olympics. It consists of faces of people from the five continents, but on a huge scale, in the most vibrant colours (see our Instagram). The talent of these artists is completely mind-blowing and it would be a challenge for anyone not to find beauty in it, and to be impressed by it. There were lots of political messages of peace and equality symbolised in the art, and told within their stories, such as empowerment of Black Africans, revealing these young Brazilian creatives’ social conscience and fight for justice.

Despite Edmundo’s best attempts to preserve our health by standing in the shade as much as possible whilst showing us the art, by the end of the 4 hour tour in the scorching heat, we were gasping for water and desperate for a cold shower, and I had a banging headache. We took a taxi and found refuge in a small restaurant in Saint Therese near our hotel run by a lovely couple. We ate the Brazilian version of fried chicken and salt cod fritter, both delicious, and walked back to the hotel. Jules opened a little extra Christmas envelope from me after we had cooled down with a shower, and learned he would be paragliding on Christmas morning! That evening we went for a delicious cocktail in the bar and then over to the restaurant for our Christmas meal, which Brazilians have on Christmas Eve, not Christmas Day. We agreed have never felt less Christmassy, but were so happy to already have had such an amazing 2 days.

We arrived at Pepino Beach the next morning after a mini Christmas present opening session and a particularly terrifying taxi journey. Whilst waiting for Flávio to take us to the take off point we received the most wonderful news. My friend Georgie’s daughter Tansy had arrived safely on Christmas morning weighing 7.5lb after a long slog. What Happy Christmas news indeed, welcome to the world little Tansy, I can’t wait to meet you!

We were driven up Pedra Bonita mountain at breakneck speed, and were strapped into our paragliding harnesses. We watched several paragliders and hang gliders launch themselves off the take off pad, one not very successfully, which was rather terrifying, and then it was Jules’s turn. I filmed his launch which was pretty smooth and watched as the winds pushed him and his pilot up and away into the skies. Then it was my turn. Me and my pilot were strapped together, and I was told just to keep walking, and to keep my ankles crossed in flight, and legs relaxed. I wasn’t quite prepared for the strong force that lifted us quicker than expected into the air, and the pilot later explained back on the ground, that he hadn’t been either. I’m glad I didn know that at the time. It all felt pretty safe though, and it was amazing looking down over the mountains and buildings below, and seeing the sparkling ocean in all its glory from above. It was still and quiet up there, and as close to flying like a bird as either of us have ever been. It was quite challenging to let go of the Go Pro and open my arms “like a bird” as instructed, and I quickly grabbed back onto the harness. I also experienced a nausea akin to the feeling of seasickness, as did Jules, and was very grateful to land smoothly on the beach after a series of vomit-inducing circles as we came down from the sky, but what an experience for Christmas Day 2017, and we were both very pleased to have done it. Our pilots kindly uploaded all the Go Pro videos and pictures onto Jules’s phone for us to remember our flights for years to come. Lunchtime, and off for some food and a Coca Cola to soothe our dizzy tummies, as well as some delicious ice cream. Then we went back to the hotel to lie on loungers in the shade drinking ice cold coconut water. What a perfect Christmas!

In the evening we cracked open a bottle of bubbly and spokes to our families who were very much missed. It was wonderful to see their smiling faces round the Christmas dinner table, and we decided to open our third envelope whilst on FaceTime speaking to my family. And it revealed that we would be off to Lima, Peru, in the wee hours of the next morning! We were totally thrilled, and I immediately thought of how much our friend Poppy would enjoy that we were going to Paddington Bear’s birthplace! Stay tuned for our next update from country number 2!!!…….

[ranabowbrite]

Since we came back from the cruise with a wicked stomach flu (thank you, norovirus), we were not able to leave the following day for our Four Corners camping trip with my in-laws as planned. Four Corners is the unique location where Colorado, Utah, New Mexico and Arizona all meet. It’s pretty cool to think you can stand in four states at once.

Anyway, we needed a few extra days to recover, so some things had to be sacrificed. The original itinerary called for visiting The Great Sand Dunes National Park on the way to Pagosa Springs for a night before heading to Durango, Ouray and Glenwood Springs in southwestern Colorado. Instead, we lost two days to our gastroenteritis and drove straight on through to Durango. We also missed the day we had planned to visit Mesa Verde National Park and the actual Four Corners, which are both driving distance from Durango.

The cool thing about sabbatical is that it wasn’t the end of the world to have our plans derailed a little bit. Time is so much more elastic on sabbatical than it is in “real life.” Normally, being laid up in bed feels one-hundred times worse because I feel like I’m either getting behind at work or missing out on something fun I can never recapture. On sabbatical, those worries don’t exist. It’s a realization that I hope to hold onto and bring back to my “real life.”

Durango Highlights:

Trent did all the planning for this trip, and I must say, he’s pretty darn good at picking out campsites. He knows how much I love the water, so he found campsites on the water in all of our campgrounds. In Durango, we stayed a the United Campground, and Trent charmed his way into the very best spot (site 103). We directly overlooked both the Animas River and the Narrow Gauge Railroad that ushers the Durango-Silverton train. So cool to watch rafters and kayakers paddle by as well as the train right from our camp site.

View of the Animas River and Narrow Gauge Railroad from our campsite in Durango (see the rafters!?)

View of our camper from the train when we rode it to Silverton

We also didn’t have a bad meal in Durango. Since we had been sick, and since we were traveling with my in-laws (who stayed in hotels), we ate out more than we usually do while camping. Trent is great about asking locals for suggestions, and the lady at the pet store suggested a great little cafe near Fort Lewis College for breakfast, CJ’s Cafe. The green chile was excellent! Guido’s Ristorante had a dog-friendly patio and the waitress brought our dogs treats and fresh water, earning herself a $20 tip. The fresh pasta was incredible!

The Durango to Silverton train ride was pretty spectacular, if VERY hot. It had been near 100 degrees in Durango, and the ride to Silverton didn’t bring the temperature down too much, but it was beautiful just following the Animas River through the mountains.

Some of the early views were particularly spectacular.

We ate at the Little Bear Cafe in Silverton, walked around a bit looking at shops and then headed back down to Durango. Silverton is a true mountain town with only 637 year-round residents and not a paved road in sight. That’s Trent and his Dad outside The Shady Lady.

View of the main street in Silverton

The other direction

Although it was stiflingly hot during the day at around 100 degrees, it was so nice sleeping at night without a hat and tons of layers to stay warm. The nights were around 50 or 55 degrees, and I was in heaven. I always said I could live in a cave because the temperatures stay around 50 year round.

Yes, that’s a personal fan around my neck. Don’t judge. It was 100 degrees!

All in all, we agreed that Durango would be a pretty awesome place to live or at least have a vacation home (adding it to the long list). You have Purgatory ski mountain nearby, a small regional airport, lots of dog-friendly businesses, outdoor activities in the mountains and on the river, and fun things to do like visit a Honeyville (for fresh honey of course), farmers markets, a fish hatchery, and great restaurants and shops. I loved the slow pace of life. I suggested Trent study acupuncture and open a clinic and I could do the marketing. That could work, right?

Ouray Highlights:

The drive from Durango to Ouray took a few hours and is arguably one of the most spectacular drives in America, and also one of the scariest (think 1000 foot cliffs and no guard rails). Three mountain passes connect Durango to Ouray, and a section of the drive is known for its harrowing twists and turns and amazing overlooks.

Tangent: The first time I ever did this drive was in a winter storm when I was working for the Colorado Department of Higher Education and on a work trip with my mentor, Gully Stanford. Imagine whiteout conditions and a state car (Ford Taurus) with bald tires. So, it was nice to experience it in perfectly glorious summer weather this time around.

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First we passed through Coalbank pass at 10,000 feet. Then Molas Pass, which had a beautiful lake and campground that is now definitely on my list for future trips. Finally, Red Mountain Pass, which gives Red Mountain Creek its rusty red color from all the iron.

  This drive was like being buried in the mountains at times, like the mountains were just layers and layers of blankets swaddling us.

I’ve always proclaimed myself to be more of a water girl, but driving through these mountains and mountain towns made me consider that I just might be a mountain girl. The pace of life, the wildlife, the piney fresh air, the outdoor lifestyle, the communion with nature. I could get used to this.

Ouray was a very cute little town in its own right. We stayed at the Ouray RV Park and Resort (site 38) right on the Uncompahgre River. Another great find by my husband, but not as much shade at this site as we needed in the hot weather. But it did have a convenient riverside trail that went from our campground into town in just under a mile. Perfect for a morning or evening walk.

Our camp site next to the Uncompahgre River and trail in Ouray

My mother-in-law and I took a day trip to Telluride, Colorado, which is about an hour or so from Ouray and literally nestled in the mountains. Basically the highway just deadends in this quaint but upscale mountain town (apparently Oprah owns a home here). I was on a quest for a cute sunhat, and finding one that didn’t cost a fortune was a feat. But I did it!

I love taking pictures of old schools, and this is the old high school in Telluride, now the elementary school.

Another reason to love Telluride

Finally, on the way out of Ouray to Glenwood Springs, we did a very short hike up to Cascade Falls, which is literally right in the center of Ouray. Since we’d both been sick, we avoided strenuous hikes, but this was a .3 mile round trip up to a beautiful waterfall, which felt great in the heat.

Glenwood Springs Highlights:

This was my favorite camp site on this trip, and possibly of all of our camp sites so far. We stayed at Glenwood Canyon Resort (site 17), which was right on the Colorado River. Lots of white water rafters waving as they passed by, and yes, another railroad. And so much shade! So cool! We spent most of our time just sitting by the river drinking hard lemonade.

We were only in Glenwood Springs for one night, but we made a point of heading to the hot springs pools. There are lots of hot springs in southwestern Colorado, and we could have enjoyed them in Durango or Ouray, but we waited for our last night to relax in Glenwood Springs. It was worth it. No pictures because I forgot my camera, but it was blissful to steam up in the cool air of the mountain evening.

Overall, our short little trip to southwestern Colorado had a number of firsts:

Hot camping: I’ve never been so hot, and I’m from Texas! Being in a pop up camper, even with the windows all open, on a 100 degree day is just not that fun. It’s like baking, and I learned the best solution is to put a wet buff on my head and sit in the shade until the sun goes down.

Trying to stay cool at our site in Ouray

Brushing teeth in a grocery store: #youdowhatyougottado

Rover.com: We needed a dog sitter while we took the Durango – Silverton, a six hour round trip ride. So, we used Rover.com to find one. We had a great experience; the sitter picked up our dogs and took them to her house which is on a horse farm (it was Durango afterall), and she even sent pictures throughout the day. Molly and Tucker seemed to love it and came back exhausted.

Our camping dogs, Molly and Tucker

The Columbine is the state flower of Colorado, and I’ve seen pictures, but I’d never seen one in the wild for some reason. Well, they were all over the mountainside as we arrived on the train in Silverton. I tried to get pictures, but with the moving train, it was difficult. I did notice that they tended to grow in the rocky crags, not in the grassy meadows, which I thought was pretty cool.

Look closely for the purple Columbines thriving in the rocks

So, needless to say, this was a wonderful 5 day trip to southwestern Colorado, and although we didn’t get to do everything we had planned, we had a great time with family exploring the little mountain towns. And now I can’t stop thinking about how to make a permanent move to a little mountain town and to a slower pace of life!

Our next adventures will take us to Yellowstone National Park and Glacier National Park for all of July.  Stay tuned!

  Sabbatical Days 54-59: Rivers and Railroads in Durango, Ouray and Glenwood Springs Since we came back from the cruise with a wicked stomach flu (thank you, norovirus), we were not able to leave the following day for our Four Corners camping trip with my in-laws as planned.