#casa mere hotel

[aghotel]

A guide to the hidden gems of Knutsford

Knutsford is home to some of the most impressive places in the UK. The town offers great options for a day or weekend visit for families and travellers. Whether you love hiking, bird watching, or exploring the unheard places, the town has something for everyone. There is so much to explore, experience, and discover including its popular hidden attractions. If you are planning to visit the quaint and quirky town, don’t forget to add the following fun and interesting hidden gems of Knutsford to your itinerary.

Gauntlet Birds of Prey: Known as the largest bird of prey park in the North West, Gauntlet Birds of Prey is a heaven for bird and animal lovers. The Park is home to over 120 birds of prey, including the smallest owls, majestic eagles, cheeky vultures, playful hawks, and lots more. The experience just does not stop here as you get to enjoy a daily show at 3 pm from March to October. For families with kids, the Park has a large play area for children with plenty of room for picnics.

Situated at Manchester Road, Knutsford, Gauntlet Birds of Prey is just a 4-minute drive from Casa Mere Hotel.

Penny Farthing Museum: Penny Farthing Museum is the only museum of this kind in the UK. The history of the museum dates to 1978, when the founder, Glynn Stockdale started collecting ‘Penny Farthing’, the majestic bicycle from the 1870s. The museum has been incorporated into ‘The Courtyard Coffee House’ with a unique collection of Penny Farthings adorning the restaurant. Museum is a perfect place for people who want to experience art, history, and food in one place.

Set in a hidden courtyard, just off King Street, the museum is just a 7-minute drive from Casa Mere Hotel.

Lymm Dam: A great place for a day out, Lymm Dam is known for its great beauty and tranquillity. Its woodlands and meadows provide stunning local walks. Constructed in 1824 to make way for a road, now A56, the dam falls in the category of ‘Importance for Nature Conservation’ having a variety of trees and wildlife around it. The place offers canal paths, the Trans Pennine Trail, and a variety of footpaths for outdoors lovers.

To reach Lymm Dam, you can park your car on Crouchley Lane and access the footpath or you can take the A56 or Lakeside Road. The dam is just a 10-minute drive from Casa Mere Hotel.

Tree of Imagination: Set in the village of Lower Peover, the Tree of Imagination is an old tree that has been carved to make it look like a fairy house. The roof includes an owl box, a bat box along a nesting box. In recent years, the tree has become a fun feature of the village as well as a source of inspiration and creativity for the younger generation. Do not forget to climb over the tree and look in its windows in search of fairies.

Situated at Broom Lane, Knutsford, the fabulous tree is just a 13-minute drive from Casa Mere Hotel.

The list of hidden gems of Knutsford does not end here as Knutsford offers a variety of experiences to family and leisure travellers. If you want to explore Knutsford with Casa Mere Hotel, become a member, and enjoy up to 50% discounts on local attractions, restaurants, bars, and popular places in the town. Write to us at care@aghotels.co.uk to learn more.

[casastays]

Enchantment of Casa Stays: A Journey Through Unique Experiences

In an era where travelers seek more than just a place to lay their heads, the allure of casa stays has risen exponentially. Far from the standardized hospitality of hotels, these stays offer a glimpse into the soul of a destination, embodying its culture, heritage, and warmth. But what exactly makes the experience with casa stays so special?

Embrace Authenticity

Casa stays immerse travelers in the authentic rhythm of local life. Whether nestled within the narrow alleys of an ancient city or perched on the serene countryside, each casa tells a unique story. From traditional architecture to locally sourced furnishings, every element reflects the essence of its surroundings. Guests find themselves not merely tourists but temporary residents, seamlessly woven into the fabric of the community.

Personalized Hospitality

Forget cookie-cutter service. Casa stays pride themselves on personalized hospitality that goes beyond expectations. Here, hosts are more than just managers; they are storytellers, guides, and friends. Their insider knowledge unveils hidden gems and off-the-beaten-path experiences, enriching the traveler’s journey with genuine encounters and unforgettable memories.

A Home Away from Home

The essence of a casa stay lies in its homely ambiance. Unlike the anonymity of hotel rooms, casa stays offer cozy sanctuaries where guests feel instantly at ease. Shared meals with fellow travelers, evenings spent by the fireplace, or lazy afternoons in a sun-drenched courtyard foster a sense of belonging. It’s not just about where you stay; it’s about feeling like you belong there.

Cultural Immersion

Travel is not just about seeing; it’s about experiencing. Casa stays provide a portal to cultural immersion, allowing travelers to delve deep into local traditions and customs. From hands-on cooking classes to artisan workshops and cultural performances, every moment is an opportunity to connect with the heart and soul of a destination.

Sustainability and Responsibility

In an age where sustainable travel is paramount, casa stays lead by example. Many are rooted in eco-conscious practices, promoting responsible tourism that minimizes environmental impact and benefits local communities. From organic gardens to water conservation initiatives and support for local artisans, casa stays embody a holistic approach to hospitality that nurtures both guests and the planet.

The Unforgettable Memories

Perhaps the true measure of any travel experience is the memories it leaves behind. In the tapestry of a traveler’s journey, casa stays weave threads of laughter, discovery, and connection. Whether it’s a serendipitous encounter with a local artist, a shared meal under the stars, or the quiet contemplation of a breathtaking sunrise, these moments linger long after the journey ends, a testament to the magic of casa stays.

In conclusion, the experience with casa stays transcends the mere transactional nature of accommodation. It is a journey of discovery, a celebration of diversity, and a testament to the beauty of human connection. So, the next time you embark on an adventure, consider veering off the beaten path and embracing the enchantment of casa stays. The memories you create will be worth their weight in gold.

[europeas20]

Discover Barcelona: Book a 7-Day Getaway at Casa Lit Starting at Just €89!

Uncover the Magic of Barcelona: 7-day Getaway at Casa Lit from only €89 - Reserve Your Retreat for a Memorable Experience. Grab The Deal

Explore the vibrant heart of Barcelona with Casa Lit Barcelona by Ona, ideally situated a mere 400 meters from the iconic Las Ramblas.

Take in breathtaking city and sea views from our rooftop terrace while enjoying complimentary Wi-Fi and flat-screen satellite TV in your room.

Indulge in a delightful buffet breakfast in our courtyard, surrounded by the charm of our open-plan rooms featuring air conditioning for your comfort. Our 24-hour reception is at your service, ready to assist with restaurant reservations, show tickets, or guided tours of Barcelona.

Benefit from free city maps to navigate the lively Raval district, just steps away from Barcelona Port. Conveniently located near Drassanes and Paral•lel Metro Stations, Casa Lit Barcelona by Ona offers an unforgettable stay in the heart of the city.

Travel Resources Hotels and Hostels Booking.com is available in 43 languages and offers more than 28 million reported accommodation listings, including over 6.6 million homes, apartments, and other unique places to stay. TripAdvisor is the world’s largest travel guidance platform. With more than 1 billion reviews and opinions of nearly 8 million businesses, travelers turn to Tripadvisor to find deals on accommodations, and book experiences. Klook is a booking platform on which travelers can book hotels, cars, tours and activities, tickets to attractions, and shows at great prices. Hotellook is a service that helps you find and compare prices on hotels around the world, provided by a leading reservation system. Today, Hotellook.com offered to put together information on more than 250,000 hotels in 205 countries. Hostelworld, the global hostel-focused online booking platform, inspires passionate travelers to see the world, meet new people, and come back with extraordinary stories to tell. Hostelworld has more than 13 million reviews across over 17,000 hostels in more than 179 countries, making the brand the leading online hub for social travel. WeGoTrip is an online service for booking audio excursions and tours on 35+ countries on different languages (mostly english). Travelers can take audio excursions created by professional tour guides and local experts. Tiqets’ innovative technology ensures that travelers can book tickets on their phone at the last minute, receive their tickets directly in a digital form, and show their mobile phones in place of physical tickets to museums, places of interest, and attractions. Offers available passes in Europe and the US.

Car Rental You can find the best car rental prices at QEEQ.COM. QEEQ.COM serves road trip travellers from different countries by working with car rental companies all over the world. The company offers its customers the widest set of car rental options and always strives to offer the most competitive price Read the full article

[casaplaya]

Umhlanga Rocks Accommodation

Self-catering in Umhlanga is an inexpensive, budget-friendly means of travelling. Beautiful space where we may take long walks on the beach and we additionally accommodation in umhlanga rocks walked to nearby outlets. Unfortunately the public bins was overflowing and air pollution spoiled the breathtaking surroundings.

Gateway Theatre of Shopping, voted the ultimate word Retail and Entertainment destination, is a mere 6 minute drive away. We are a 15 minute drive from the King Shaka International Airport. Casa Ridge is nestled within the vibrant suburb of Umhlanga Rocks and within a really brief distance of Umhlanga's exciting CBD and stunning Blue Flag seashore. All rooms are equipped with distant management TV, Satellite TV, hairdryers, Wi-Fi, phone, air-conditioning, and room safes. Broken washer wasn’t nice news – we’d come from the berg with soiled garments and leaving for UK after this stay. DStv ran out midnight but as we had a late take a glance at that more than compensated.

A variety of quality outlets and supermarkets, as nicely as over 50 top class eating homes and eating places, La Lucia Mall buying centre, the Gateway Theatre of Entertainment. Within quarter-hour you've Durban bathing beaches, the Harbour, ski-boat and Vetchies protected beach, Durban sightseeing, Moses Mabida Stadium, Golf programs and sporting grounds. If you go a little futher, you may have entry to the stunning North Coast of KZN, including accommodation umhlanga rocks Umdloti, Ballito, Salt Rock, Blythedale Beach, Zinkwazi, Mthunzini and the Heritage Site of ST Lucia and Cape Vidal. Our friends can expertise a myriad points of interest and landmarks, similar to Ocean Ventures, Fitzsimmons Snake Park and Umhlanga Lighthouse. Our mattress and breakfast can additionally be located close to dolphin viewing and golfing facilities, making it a well-liked spot for leisure and business travellers.

Just a brief walk from Gateway Theatre Of Shopping, it provides comfy rooms geared up with a mini bar and wireless web entry. Providing a shuttle to King Shaka International Airport, plus free wi-fi internet, Urban Park Apartments & Hotel By Misty Blue Hotel is a comfortable place to remain in Durban. There can also be a fitness centre with a swimming pool. This apartment is completely located right on the beach of Umhlanga Rocks, and has direct entry onto to the Promenade and the beach. The major sights for seaside lovers however are swimming, physique boarding, browsing... Perfectly situated right on the beach, lies this pretty brilliant and sunny spacious three bed room apartment.

Some models also have a kitchen equipped with a dishwasher.A continental breakfast could be enjoyed at the property. Guests can even chill out within the backyard or on the sun terrace. The resorts 237 seashore flats are all sea-facing and have mini-kitchenettes for further comfort. Air-conditioning in each house ensures you'll find a way to keep cool in the uMhlanga sunshine, a private toilet is well-appointed, and the electronic safe, TV, and other conveniences add to your expertise.

The condo is a fantastically decorated and maintained three bed room, with a reasonably well outfitted kitchen, a large residing and dining area, an expansive terrace, and a spectacular view of the Indian Ocean. All appliances are quite younger in age, the apartment comes with an individual locked storage space for a automotive. Someone comes to wash every different holiday accommodation umhlanga day, and is open for a modest worth to do laundry. Security for the house constructing is quite reliable . A lovely walking path on the ocean begins at the base of the hill, and is both a short walk from the condo or a short drive to a parking zone on the base of the path. Getting into the village is easy, by foot, by automotive, or by Uber.

A holiday in Umhlanga will actually keep you as busy or as relaxed as you need. Locally there are the golden sands of Umhlanga Beach & Lagoon to spend unhurried days within the heat sand and surf. The rooms at this Umhlanga Rocks accommodation in Durban are decorated in enjoyable and stylish accommodation umhlanga 60s surf chic decor. Everything from the laminate timber floors to the excessive ceilings and well-appointed furnishings contribute to every room’s comfortable ambiance. Michelle is a chef who focuses on Italian and sea-food cuisine.

[bcdaily]

jily childhood friends running into each other years later?

Ta-dah! Thank you for the prompt! Now I have to write shorter things, or I’ll never get another done. XD

She knew that hair.

It was a glimpse—a fleeting hint of familiar dark chaotic strands protruding above the multitude of milling heads inside the crowded hotel lobby. Lily stopped where she stood, certain—certain…but that was foolish, surely? It was hair. Billions of people had hair. Even distinctive hair like that. And what would he be doing here, what were the chances…She darted left, slipping through other conference attendees, following the bobbing head of black. Her fingers toyed absently with the lanyard around her neck. Her feet kept moving. She was closing in. But—shit—he was turning into the next doorway. She’d lose him—

“Potter!” she shouted.

The bobbing black head stopped in the doorway threshold. He turned.

Something pulled inside Lily’s chest.

God, it was.

His mouth—an older mouth; familiar features spread across a matured frame, sharper and wider—formed her name. A question. His head tilted.

She squirmed around the last huddled group of conference-goers blocking her path. A middle-aged skeletal bloke shot her an annoyed look as she prodded past him. A server carrying a tray of canapés swerved around her. She wished the tray had been alcohol. She might need it. She wasn’t sure.

James Potter had grown up to be tall. Cresting six feet, easily. His limbs were long, his chest wide, but his hair—that hair—hadn’t changed a bit. Neither had his smile: bright, crooked, with the same infectious delight he’d managed so easily at eleven, now captured just the same in a man of twenty-four.

Twenty-four. They were twenty-four now. She hadn’t seen him in thirteen years.

“Lily Evans,” he said, audibly this time, and the smile grew brighter. “Shit.”

“Shit,” Lily repeated, laughing. Now that there was nowhere to go, no further crowds to weave through, no mop of dark hair to stalk, she was not quite sure what to do. She hadn’t thought past the part of just confirming it was him. Somehow, magically, him. Strange, strange, strange. Now they were standing before each other and—

And he was good-looking.

Had been, back then, at eleven. But that was eleven, and those things didn’t often last. Features shifted. Bodies changed. Conventions came and went at whim. Who could keep up?

James Potter could, apparently.

Not that that was the point. She hadn’t chased him down because he was fit. She could only see his head, for Christ’s sake. She hadn’t known. Not about the height, about the posh specs and the twinkling hazel eyes, about the tanned, sculpted forearms revealed beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down. It wasn’t—

He eyed her, eyeing him. “Do we…hug…or…?”

She snorted. “I don’t know.”

“Reckon I ruined it by asking.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Not as natural now.”

“Yes, quite ruined.”

“Ah, well. Will do better next time. Meet again in another…what’s it been? A decade or so?”

“Thirteen years, by my count.”

“Thirteen? Bloody hell, I can’t wait another thirteen years. I’ll be dead. Let’s just—”

And then somehow he was hugging her, and Lily was laughing again, and her fingers were digging into his back as she clutched him to her.

He had a nice back, James Potter did.

A nice smell, too.

The first boy she’d ever kissed remembered to shower. Lovely.

In the past ten seconds, she’d grown greedy and impetuous. As he pulled away, she darted up on her toes and dropped a hasty kiss to his cheek. Stolen, like a criminal. She was in a hotel lobby filled with barristers, and not a single one could convict her, so stealthy was she.

His fingers trailed down her arm as their bodies detangled. Her skin burned along the path.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, stepping back. She really, really needed to step back. “I mean, it’s good to see you—strange to see you, really, but—you’re a barrister?”

It didn’t fit the James Potter in her head. The boy who’d grown up alongside her, had lived in the sprawling, noble house at the top of the hill, running wild with the lot of them in Cokesworth, until he wasn’t. That boy had certainly had the cleverness and confidence to pull off law, but not the patience or deference to its structures and politics. He would’ve collapsed under the piles of paperwork. He would have crowed agony at the rules, the formalities, the bureaucracy. Had that swotty boarding school his parents’ packed him off to changed him so very much?

James pulled a face. “Fuck me, no. I’m running the catering for the conference. My mum—”

“—owned a restaurant,” Lily recalled, somehow delighted not to have pegged him wrong. She closed her eyes wistfully. “God, that’s right. When you moved, we were all bereft. I think I still smell that eggplant appetizer of hers in my dreams.”

“The caponata?” His grin turned sneaky. “She still has it on the menu.”

“Where?”

“Casa. SoHo.”

Lily had heard of it. To think, James Potter, her childhood friend and mild fixation, just a few tube stops away, for who knew how long. “So you’re in London?”

“Since university,” he confirmed. Then his head tilted, and the sneaky smile turned coy. “So you’re a barrister? In London?”

“Yes.” She waved her conference lanyard like a white flag, surrender. “Wildly disappointed?”

“No. It fits.” Humour weaved through his voice—deeper and cooler now, all grown up. “No one could ever win an argument with you. And I tried. It was fun.”

He’d been a menace. He’d taken such delight from getting a rise out of her. But even as children, talking with him had been addicting. There were so few who could match wits with her, even fewer who didn’t take it personally, who dusted themselves off after a rousing debate and stuck out their hand, a shake of respect for the good time. James Potter had been like that. It’s why she’d cornered him behind a tree in the park where they all used to play, just before his parents had packed up house and he’d left for boarding school. With his back against the tree bark, she’d pressed her lips against his and waited to see what he did with it.

He’d cupped her chin with both of his hands and pressed his lips harder against hers.

It was closed-mouths, mere seconds. A first for both of them.

But to this day, Lily’s knees still went weak when someone held her face.

Silly. Stupid. She talked about work to make the memory go away.

“A bit less fun now. It’s mostly forms and deadlines and”—she waved her hand around the room—“swotty, deadly dull networking conferences. I’m just out of school. I hardly do anything yet.”

“But you’re good at it,” James stated, definitive.

She didn’t bother to hide her preen. Was wary by how much pleasure she took out of his automatic confidence in her. “Yes. I’m very good at it.”

They stared at each other, grinning.

He had a girlfriend. Lily was certain of it. There was no way this man did not have a significant other. Or maybe there was a very good reason, because she knew absolutely nothing about him. She hadn’t seen him in thirteen years. Entire lives were lived in thirteen years. Who knew what kind of person he was now? He could cut a dashing figure, hold a conversation, but maybe he also cut up bodies in his flat for fun. Maybe he bit his toenails. Maybe he liked The Big Bang Theory. Maybe he drank milk straight from the carton and then put it back in the fridge.

“You didn’t grow up ugly, James Potter,” she said.

“I looked you up on Instagram a few times,” he replied immediately. “You never post pictures of yourself. But I like your cat.”

“His name is Bosley.”

“I know.”

Lily squinted at him. “What else do you know?”

Hazel eyes gleamed. “Interesting question.”

James Potter’s hands were much larger now. If he worked with his mum in her restaurant, they were probably rough—calloused from use, nicked with cuts and crevasses from an absent knife or oil burned too hot. Eleven-year-old James’s hands had been cool and soft. This James’s hands wouldn’t be.

Lily quelled a shiver.

“You—”

“James?” A server appeared out of the doorway behind him, looking frazzled. “They left behind a case of champagne. I don’t know how. The quiche is running low, and Darnell is feeling ill. What—”

“Send Darnell home. I’ll—” He let out a dissatisfied hum, glancing at Lily, then back at the server. His lips pulled into a frown. He swept a hand through his hair. “Sorry—”

Lily waved him off, though her spirits sank. “No, don’t be silly. Work calls. Feed the hungry. Go.”

He hesitated, his eyes skimming her. “Will you—we’re just catering the event tonight. Swotty and deadly dull, yeah? So you’ll probably skive as soon as you can.”

“No.” She didn’t have any reason to say it so firmly, so quickly. That was just the way it came out. “Work calls for me too. I’ll be here.”

“Yeah?” The frown righted slowly.

She couldn’t believe how ridiculous she was being. Maybe how ridiculous they were both being. She could be a serial killer, for all he knew. Did he not care for the health and safety of his own pretty little head?

Her plan had been to duck out of this conference opening mixer as soon as was physically possible. They were unbearable. That shouldn’t change.

“Yeah,” she said instead.

She was eleven years old, heart fluttering behind a tree. She was an idiot.

“Good.” His body turned, but he was still looking at her. He nodded and repeated, “Good.”

Lily lifted her hand. “Thanks for the hug. See you in thirteen years?”

He smiled. “Something like that.”

She watched his back as he turned through the doorway, stared at the familiar mop of hair until it disappeared around the next corner.

She pivoted on her heels slowly, feeling silly and prickly.

In her pocket, her phone vibrated. She pulled it out and absently glanced at the screen.

She laughed.

James Potter had requested to follow her on Instagram. And he sent her a message.

You didn’t grow up ugly either, Lily Evans, it read.

She was twenty-four years old, heart fluttering in the middle of a hotel.

She shook her head, and pressed ACCEPT.

[ragingbookdragon]

I couldn't help myself with this and I'm sure as shit not sorry. Enjoy the Batbrother fic! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The entire mission in Costa Rica would’ve taken two days to complete with the final night being the perfect time to eliminate the militia and their leader. He gazed at the rural camp through the scope of his rifle, surveying the small but well-guarded church building and courtyard. Five camps were set up around the church itself in a star set, the main headquarters in the middle, and a barbed wire fence surrounded the entire operation.

Getting in wasn’t going to be any trouble, at least not for Walker and Gutierrez; shifting the rifle, he could see them creeping up the side of the hill, staying in the tall brush. They were about thirty meters from the side of the fence that would let them in undetected; he’d provide sniper fire for anyone nearing them that they couldn’t get to in time.

All at once, Walker stilled in the brush, grasping at Gutierrez’s wrist. When Walker didn’t start reporting, he frowned and hit the button on his gun, murmuring, “Talk to me, Walker.”

The former MI6 operative grunted. “Somethings fuckin’ with my radar.” He glanced back towards where he was camped in the sniper nest. “Tell Asghar to figure it out.”

A new voice came over the line, rather agitated. “I don’t work for you and telling me to figure it out, isn’t going to make me. Maybe you could ask nicely.”

“Well, you ain’t called the fuckin’ ‘Eye in The Sky’ for no reason. Use the IFF and figure it out.”

“Arse,” she retorted, then she hummed. “Captain, Walker’s right, there’s something entering the premises. But I can’t tell what—it’s cloaked.”

He hummed quietly. “Where is it, Asghar?”

“East-side. It’s pinging the radar, but I don’t have a visual on it. Lemme circle around again.”

Glancing into the scope once more, he watched the east side carefully, when one of the militia members suddenly grasped their throat, blood spilling between their fingers. There was a split-second flash of a white tactical cloak shimmering, and his eyes went wide. “Everyone pull back. Now.”

All of his squad reacted with shock, but he wasn’t going to hear it. “All of you. Get out. Now. I know what’s inside the perimeter. Asghar land the Hawkeye. Everyone get to it.”

“Captain, what is it?”

“Nothing good, Mikhailovna.” He replied to the assassin with an annoyed frown. “Goddamn motherfucking asshole.” He scowled and watched another militia member fall, then another, and another. All within seconds. “Fucker took our job out from underneath us.”

“Who did, Captain?” Walker asked.

“A Ghost I don’t feel like engaging right now.” He said. “I gave you all an order. Back to the plane. Double time.”

“What about mission?” Mikhailovna questioned and he could tell she was already pissed.

“Our little guest’s already claimed it as theirs. I’ll explain later. Just get back.”

A round of disgruntled replies came in but he paid them no mind, simply watching the shimmer of the tactical cloak every few seconds go out as the soldiers dropped, throats slit.

***

He hefted the duffel bag onto his shoulder, watching his squad boarding the plane. His pilot stood beside him. “You coming with us or staying?” she questioned, and he hummed.

“Planning on staying for a while.” His eyes drifted to the hotel in the distance. “Costa Rica’s got some nice sights and I’ll need to find us another job since this one busted halfway through.”

She nodded as if suddenly remembering. “Yeah, about that…I haven’t seen you that spooked in a while. Who was that?”

“I wasn’t spooked.” he griped. “But it’s a vigilante who’s not exactly good.”

Nadeen crossed her arms over her chest. “So, they’re like us?”

“No. He’s not even like me or Jason. When he fights, he views it as an art, not a duty. He’ll kill anyone he deems necessary.”

“Psychopath much?”

“Congratulations,” he quipped dryly. “You hit the nail on the head.”

“Oh my god, seriously? He’s a psychopath?”

“Full-fledged, no remorse or sympathy.” He glanced at the servicers finishing the fueling. “You should go start up the plane. I’m sure everyone’s ready to be back home for a while.”

Nadeen looked at him. “What are you going to do the entire time?”

“Hopefully find a job he won’t bud in on. Tell everyone they’ve got a month leave.” He held out his arm, elbow bent, and fist curled.

Nadeen placed the outside of her arm, held just like his, against the outside of his. “Happy hunting, Captain. Stay safe.”

“You too,” he smiled, pulling away to walk off the flight line.

***

He stepped out of the shower and wrapped the fluffy white towel around his waist. His eyes caught his reflection in the mirror and for a moment he simply stared at himself. All the scars that lined his chest, the bullet wounds, the stabs, the slashes, the burns. Each told a story of a time he escaped death’s clutches. Barely. But still alive.

He shifted the dog tags that at his sternum and looked at the cicatrix on his skin; he didn’t like the memory that surrounded it and he shook his head, letting the tags fall back into place before he walked out of the bathroom and into the master bedroom. He’d left a pair of fresh underwear on the bed, and he removed the towel, slipping them on.

Figuring since no one was going to bother him, he tossed the towel onto the sofa beside the window and walked through the living room into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and pursed his lips, wondering if he should cook or order room service; the Casa Del Mar Residence had fairly decent service.

Suddenly his muscles tensed and the hair on the back of his neck stood; he calmly grabbed an apple out of the refrigerator, then spun, throwing it with deadly aim and speed.

Unsurprisingly, the half-masked man leaning against the laundry room doorway caught it, smiling at him. “Well done, (Y/N). You knew I was here.”

He felt anger flush through him, and he pointed at him. “I knew it was you. Only you’d stick your nose in a SPECTRE Op and stick around afterwards to gloat about it.”

Chuckling, the man took a bite of the apple, chewing before murmuring, “Why so upset, (Y/N)? I took out the target for you.”

“Yeah, and you cost me and my squad a few million dollars of payment.” (Y/N) scowled. “The fuck do you want Ghost-Maker?”

Ghost-Maker smirked at him. “I’d pay you back but I’m sure you’d tell me to shove my money where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“Again, what do you want?” he gestured around. “It sure as shit isn’t to mess up my vacation for a month.”

“I’m leaving in a few hours,” he shrugged. “New missions in Asia.”

(Y/N) looked him over a moment. “You know he told me the first letters of your name. ‘Kh’.” He hummed, leaning against the island. “There’s so many names it could be. Khalid. Khal. Khadim. Khai.” Eyeing the vigilante, he quipped, “I feel like I’ve already said it.”

“I’d tell you if you did.” He walked around the island and stood beside (Y/N).

“Really? You’d tell me?” he cocked a brow. “Can I call you ‘K’?”

“No.”

“Hmm…sensitive.” (Y/N) grinned. “C’mon K, lighten up a little you psycho.”

He rolled his eyes. “Anyone ever told you you’re hilarious?”

“Just a few people. One of those being my dad.” (Y/N) met his gaze. “So…why are you here if you’re leaving in a few hours.”

A smirk ghosted over the man’s face, and he took a closer step, now in (Y/N)’s personal space, in fact, standing just before him. “I haven’t meditated yet.”

He peered at him. “Something tells me you’re not talking about yoga.”

“No. I’m thinking something more carnal.” He murmured. “Seems like you could use some meditation too.”

(Y/N)’s eyes merely narrowed, and he glared at the man in front of him for a long while before sighing and grunting, “Fine. But if you tell anyone we fucked, I’ll kill you in your sleep.” He started towards the bedroom, listening to Ghost-Maker follow, chuckling behind him.

“I already told you, (Y/N). We’re going to meditate.”

“Meditate my ass,” he griped in return.

“Relax. We’re going to have some fun.”

“I’m topping.”

“We’ll see,” Ghost-Maker cooed, shutting the door behind them.

[vtls]

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌.         

tw: crise de ansiedade, ataque de pânico, sangue, menção a possível suicídio, menção a possível homicídio.            

                    assim como na noite que vinha tirando o sono do fernsby há meses, tudo o que aconteceu depois que atlas retornou para o ginásio e as luzes se apagaram não passava de um borrão. tendo sido a voz de eloise no áudio que reverberava por entre as paredes do local designado para a comemoração do armstice day o gatilho para ocasionar um apagão. não era a primeira vez que acontecia e provavelmente não seria a última, mais uma vez, em um dos corredores de truffaut sua mente oscilava flutante em um vácuo preenchido apenas por uma frequência estática. a única diferença é que, desta vez, o mundo estava escuro antes que ele se perdesse na escuridão. mais uma vez, seus batimentos cardíacos eram tão altos que ecoavam em seus ouvidos, abafando a súplica por socorro entalada em sua garganta. sua energia e a consciência eram drenadas de seu corpo até que não existisse mais nada. não se lembrava de como ou em que circunstância chegara em casa, tampouco sabia quanto tempo havia se passado com a água gelada caindo sobre suas costas a fim de reduzir o cortisol que assumia o controle e desequilibrava suas reações. enfim, os dígitos longos fecharam o registro do chuveiro segundos antes de atlas se enrolar em um roupão que passou a abraçar seu corpo confortavelmente.

                      sua respiração ainda era ofegante e a água fria em nada havia ajudado em controlar a crise iminente. atlas deveria chamar alguém, como sua irmã o procurara naquela noite de setembro. suas pernas, entretanto, cederam antes que os pés completassem oito passos. agarrou-se ao mármore que sustentava a para evitar a queda. éloise está morta. piscou, atônito enquanto seu coração começava a pulsar em ritmo acelerado e incessante. podia ouvir, mais uma vez, o sangue passando em suas veias através de seus ouvidos. tum. tum. tum. era um som abafado, mas que parecia amplificado dado o silêncio da casa naquela madrugada de sexta-feira para sábado. a pressão na base da nuca fez com que atlas quisesse gritar. a destra reduziu o aperto na pedra ao que ele inclinava a cabeça para baixo. respirou fundo e sentiu os pulmões queimarem. meninas, por favor, podemos resolver isso lá embaixo? na verdade, não conseguia respirar, como se estivesse sendo segurado debaixo d’água sem qualquer forma de emergir para pegar ar. e... a éloise... se suicidou. a voz de chloé, que inspirava confiança, ecoou em seus pensamentos. as memórias de sua conversa com a “namorada” no quarto de hotel se mesclavam às vozes que escutara no áudio e às imagens da cabeça de girard-dampierre se chocando contra as pedras. viu o seu peito se mover para cima e para baixo sob a única camada de tecido que o impedia de estar completamente nu. as orbes castanhas agora assistiam as mãos trêmulas ao que tentava controlar a respiração rápida e ruidosa. sem sucesso. dígitos, agora pálidos, oscilavam em uma duplicação característica da visão embaçada.  

                       sentia calor e um filete de suor escorria de suas têmporas, misturando-se à água do chuveiro. o formigamento em suas mãos subiu para o braço esquerdo ao mesmo tempo em que seu coração era acometido por uma pontada. naquele momento, não tinha outra explicação para seus sintomas: estava tendo um ataque cardíaco. você está morrendo, a voz em sua consciência sussurra baixinho, um alerta ou ameaça. é impossível distinguir. você vai morrer sozinho, ela continua. atlas comprime os olhos e maneia a cabeça para os lados, tentando se livrar da voz insistente em sua cabeça. todavia, quando as orbes castanhas são completamente cobertas pelas pálpebras, o garoto enxerga palavras se movimentando em seu interior. mas ela foi muito fria e grossa comigo. e se ela estivesse mesmo lá em cima, junto com os outros. e se ela tivesse mesmo motivos para. engoliu seco, apertando a pedra de mármore sob seus dedos que, agora, atingiam a palidez. suas pernas bambearam novamente e seu estômago se embrulhou com aquele pensamento. não, ele não deveria ter dúvidas quanto à inocência alheia. tive a impressão dela me fechar com o carro na saída do estacionamento, mas posso estar imaginando coisas. levou a canhota até a abertura do roupão, tentando afastar os fios de algodão de seu peito. 

                    o coração batendo cada vez mais depressa, cada vez mais forte. massageou a área agora exposta. era isso, ele morreria ali. afastou a mão do peito e a levou até a torneira, escutando o barulho da água corrente se sobrepor ao barulho dos seus batimentos cardíacos. abriu os olhos e, com a mão esquerda cheia de água, jogou em seu rosto na tentativa de diminuir o calor. as pupilas fixaram-se no reflexo no espelho e, apesar de ter a mesma aparência, não gostava do que via. a imagem ali refletida lhe dava nojo. era como se não se reconhecesse no meio de tantas omissões e mentiras inventadas a troco de quê? não foi suicídio, ele murmurou baixinho sob a respiração curta. claro que não foi, ele sempre soube disso, mas era mais fácil acreditar que sim. era mais fácil acreditar que uma pobre alma atormentada teria tirado sua vida, do que acreditar que uma daquelas vozes teria ceifado a vida de éloise. soltou o mármore da pia. o primeiro soco contra o vidro do espelho veio desse asco que sentia da própria imagem, antes idolatrada por uma postura quase narcísica. depois do terceiro, não sabia mais o que estava fazendo, mas o movimento era reiterado. tão letárgico que sequer sentia a dor do vidro quebrado dilacerando seu punho, dos estilhaços alcançando seu antebraço em cortes menos profundos. sua visão se tornava mais escura e mais estreita, caleidoscópica. como quando era pequeno e fechava os olhos, em seguida pressionava as pálpebras para “ver estrelas”. de vagar, seu corpo cedeu ao chão e tudo ficou escuro, mas não antes de vislumbrar o escarlate tingir o tecido branco da manga direita do roupão.

                    foi desperto pelo murmurar de um mantra melódico. os olhos pesados se abriram lentamente, sendo necessário que atlas piscasse algumas vezes para que as pupilas dilatadas se ajustassem à incidência de claridade da luz do que parecia ser um quarto de hospital. umedeceu os lábios, a boca estava seca e logo ele descobriu se tratar da bolsa de soro que a pingos lentos tinha sua substância lançada em seu sistema via intra venal. os olhos também estavam secos, mas o incômodo maior estava em sua mão direita. as orbes castanhas foram direcionadas para baixo. a mão e o antebraço enfaixados repousava inerte sobre a barriga que subia e descia em uma respiração lenta. comprimiu os olhos ao fechá-los. um flash da sua mão contra o espelho fez com que uma lágrima solitária escorresse pela lateral do seu rosto. o toque gentil de um dígito a secou. abriu os olhos novamente, apenas para encontrar sua avó o encarando com um sorriso triste. a destra feminina afagou os cabelos de atlas em um gesto repetitivo e carinhoso. as pálpebras voltaram a se fechar, a respiração calma cedia à exaustão, não por completo, mas a sonolência estava prestes a apagá-lo novamente. ❛ yah theek hone vaala hai, mere ravi. ❜ — vai ficar tudo bem, meu sol. o toque era tão familiar, o trazia tantas lembranças boas de quando a mãe fazia o mesmo, que se permitiu acreditar apenas naquele momento que, sim, ficaria tudo bem.

[gossipchii]

Silver linings

FF.net link: Here

AO3 link: Here

Characters: Motomiya Daisuke and Yagami Hikari (and Taichi)

Words: 1400+

Notes: Part of the #LockdownChallenge. I got Hikari and Daisuke and it came out more cheesy than I was expecting.

OH WELL! Enjoy!

He knew a quarantine was something serious he should never be celebrating. He also understood New York was in a very extreme situation exceeding the ten thousand cases of people infected by the virus named like a famous beer brand. Yet there he was, smiling as if he had won the lottery. Miyako would probably hit him if she knew he somehow felt lucky about the whole matter. But he didn’t care, not in that moment.

Daisuke was just starting to open his ramen franchise in places outside of Tokyo, and he had gone to New York specifically to do market research. It had been a complete coincidence that Hikari had been planning to visit Taichi at that same time. Yes. An accident.

And listen- he wasn’t as crazy about Hikari as he used to be when he was eleven, but he once had read that first loves were the only real ones and the rest were to forget, and Hikari had been his first love, it was nobody’s secret. Not even to Hikari herself, so they were chill. It had just been a friendly trip to New York City, to him it was for business and to Hikari it was leisure. And Daisuke enjoyed travelling in company rather than alone.

He also needed to stop justifying himself, but it had been a normal trip until it wasn’t. He was now in a government mandatory lockdown. It had been just his luck that he had rented an AirBnb for over two months while Hikari had preferred a hotel room. Her hotel, however, had just announced they would be closing due the lockdown. Daisuke, as nice as he was, suggested she could stay with him, since Taichi was working home office on confidential manners. Hikari didn’t want to get herself, or her brother, in trouble with the United Nations, so she agreed.

And there she was, just entering his temporary apartment. She was just carrying a small luggage and she looked scared. Hikari was very much about vibes, and it was nobody’s secret that New York looked eerie with pretty much no people on the streets. Daisuke and the younger Yagami had been through a lot, but before they had to fight Digimon, things they could see.

“It’s weird, isn’t it? Having an invisible enemy, we can’t fight with the power of our Digi-vices.” Daisuke smiled, he sometimes believed Hikari could read minds.

“I mean, this one we can fight staying inside and binge-watching Netflix so…” Hikari left her luggage in a small corner in the rather big apartment Daisuke had rented, as if she didn’t want to bother.

“Why am I not surprised at all,” she laughed, stepping into the kitchen just to see boxes of Oreo, chips, and of course, ramen all over the place.

“Don’t worry, I’m not a college student no more!” he defended himself. “There’s some vegetables on the fridge!” Hikari had a look on her face Daisuke hadn’t seen in a long time, sparkling eyes, even. “What?”

“Do you want to know what I did?” he nodded; the brunette ran straight to her purse to take out three toilet papers.

“Did you steal that from the hotel-“ he was speechless. “Who are you and what did you do to Yagami Hikari?”

“I heard the whole city was out of toilet paper! I lost control!” She could not stop laughing, Daisuke appreciated the sound of it.

“I can’t believe you actually did that. Now we can make sure we will survive this with the power of toilet paper and cookies.”

“Oh, everyone will be so jealous of our quarantine survivor kit,” Hikari took out her polaroid camera and took photos of the mountains of food Daisuke had bought. She was anxious about everything, but she was glad she was not spending it alone. Since she was a teacher, and her students were in vacations she was not homeworking like everyone else was, hence why she had decided to visit Taichi during that time.

She never expected for everything to go wild, it was not even safe for them to go back to Japan, considering New York was now one of the most affected cities in the world. Hikari didn’t want to put her parents in any kind of risk. It was better for her to just stay in New York, with her brother. With Daisuke.

“New York has always been the city that never sleeps, yet here it is. Sleeping.” The man stated, looking outside the window. The sun was setting, meaning it was probably chilly outside. Not that it mattered, since they had a heater inside.

“Did you trick me and are you actually Takeru in disguise?” she teased this time around.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He stuck his tongue out to her, Hikari rolled her eyes.

“Daisuke! We are not eleven anymore!”

“I know, I know! And I promise I’m nowhere as salty as I was back then.” He stood up to boil some water for the ramen. They were nowhere as good as his, of course, but it was what they had for now. People had gone nuts in the streets with all the panic shopping, Americans were way more paranoid than they were in Japan.

“I’ll take a quick shower if that’s okay?”

“Hey, su casa es mi casa!”

“It’s supposed to be mi casa es tu casa…”

“Now I’m supposed to believe you’re bilingual.”

“I’ve learned some things from Miyako, the basics.”

“Ok booksmart, go take a shower because I can smell you from here!!” he yelled, she laughed; as she disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him in silence once again.

Their friendship had become stronger over the years, eleven-year-old Daisuke would have never imagined he would end up locked with Hikari Yagami. Adult Daisuke was, of course, over that crush. Sure, he would always love Hikari, but the romantic feelings were left behind, right?

Not many people knew this about the younger Yagami, but she loved horror movies. How would you ever guess that, considering she looked like an angel herself. So, after the ramen was done -and he improved them, if he could say so himself, he felt free to pick the newest horror film on Netflix, to Hiakri’s excitement.

“I was just thinking about watching this film! I tried to watch it with Taichi the other night but he’s such a chicken, oh and the ramen looks amazing!” She had her now longer hair still wet and wearing an oversized shirt. Daisuke tried to hide his blush; she was so naturally beautiful. “Perhaps I made the best decision by staying with you instead of my brother, God knows what he’s eating right now.”

“He works for the UN, I’m sure he is being taken care of.”

“You’ll be surprised…” she whispered for herself.

Not too long had passed when Hikari fell asleep while watching the film, which, by mere causality, was in Spanish. That made Daisuke laugh. Hikari’s phone began ringing to show it was Taichi himself who was calling, he felt free to answer.

“Have you not gone bald yet?”

“One more pandemic away to do that!” the older one laughed; it was refreshing to hear a joke after so much stress at the office. “Where is she?”

“Asleep,” he looked at her, breathing softly.

“Of course she is, girl can’t stay up after midnight no matter how hard she tries.” Taichi sighed, changing the tone of his voice. “Thank you for taking her in, I feel so guilty for not taking care of her while she was here…”

“You know how Hikari is, she never wants to bother.”

“She’s so lucky to have people like you in her life, and I mean, me too.” Daisuke smiled; he had an inexplicable amount of respect towards Taichi. “Thank you, really.”

“The Yagamis will always have a special place in my heart, you know it. Let us know when you take a break from saving the world so we can do FaceTime!”

“It’s a promise. And Daisuke?”

“Yes?”

“As soon as we’re done with this mess, I’ll introduce you to someone I know, he’s very interested in your business and would like to help you open your first branch here!”

Daisuke smiled big, the Yagamis really overdid themselves every single time. And even if his crush with Hikari never became anything more, he would always consider them part of his family.

[smoljoelito]

homesick || erick colon

word count: 2,139

description: Erick is homesick and the only person that makes him feel at home is not by his side.

warnings: fluff 

masterlist

tags: @quierick @mepuserojito @ericks-mala-actitud @woowoodaaboo

A/N: watch this video before reading the one shot it’s so funny it’ll make reading it better.

I’m sorry this imagine sucks

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The loud ringing of your phone causes you to about jump out of your skin as you’re launched out of your deep thoughts. When you see the name on the screen, you groan loudly, already knowing exactly what will take place in the conversation.

“Hey, Y/N!” Richard exclaims, not wasting a second before continuing, “Would you mind checking on Erick? He’s been acting weird lately. We invited him to go out with us tonight and he said no, which he never does. He won’t tell us what’s wrong, so I was wondering if you could ask him for us?” 

A sigh escapes your lips as you agree to Richard’s statement. You can practically see him beaming from your hotel room as you kindly finish the conversation before hanging up. When you applied to be an intern for Clara on CNCO’s management team, you never thought you’d become best friends with the band members, nor did you think you’d become particularly attached to the young Cuban member.

As soon as you both met, you knew he was going to be special to you. There aren’t enough words to describe what it felt like when you met him, but the one feeling you remember was tranquility. 

The whole day leading up to meeting the management team members and CNCO themselves, you were freaking out. You didn’t eat, you hardly slept, yet you had so much nervous energy. When you first met Clara, her gentle smile and personality took a weight off your chest, but the nervousness was still there when you met the boys. 

Thank god they were nice, incredibly nice, yet you were still incredibly anxious. Ever since day one, Erick has been able to sense your discomfort, or any feeling really besides happiness, and goes out of his way to make it better. Of course, that day, he began talking to you, asking you questions about your life and schooling, and the anxiety completely melted away. His presence was, and is, soothing.

From then on, you two were pretty much inseparable. If you didn’t feel like going out at night, he wouldn’t leave the hotel and vice versa. Before each show, he always gives you a “bueno suerte besito”, as he likes to call it, on the cheek, still to this day making you as red as a tomato. 

It’s no secret to anyone, including Clara, that he likes you. It’s so obvious that random people ask you in public if you’re dating. Even the fans like you, which is crazy. Everyone wants you to date so bad, and the only one holding back the relationship is, well, you.

You like him, you sure as hell do, but you’re afraid of risking your job. Clara already said it’s okay since the fans support it so much and because he really likes you. The issue arises after this internship. When you apply for an actual job with another company and they see you’re dating or were dating one of the members, the question of how well you actually did your job will arise. Anyone could think it was a publicity stunt.

And anyway, once the tour is over, so is your internship. There are merely a few months left, so would he actually want to stay with you after it all?

Keeping it private is a longshot since Erick already said he doesn’t want to keep you private. He wants to post about you on Instagram and hold hands with you in public, actually, he already told you that a while ago. Still, your fear keeps him locked away in the friend zone, even though your heart is aching for him.

Even now, your heart is aching for him, but for a different reason. You already asked Eric what was wrong, but he wouldn’t tell you. Instead, he shut the door of his hotel room in your face a few days ago and hasn’t spoken to you since. 

It’s incredibly odd to suddenly have someone that was such a constant in your life suddenly disappear. Even the air seems different; you almost feel completely out of place even in your own room. Normally, you and Eric would be snuggled up in someone’s room talking, watching a movie, or he would be singing to you, something he knows you love.

You know exactly what you have to do as you collect all your things together, before heading out into the eerily quiet hallway of the hotel room. Each step and breath you take is completely audible until you finally reach your destination.

Softly, your knuckles tap on the door of your friend, Erick’s hotel room door. The closer he gets to the door, the louder the thuds are echoing from inside, until the door swings open, revealing an anything but happy Erick. For a second, you two just stare at each other, no words being exchanged, but then, he begins to shut the door.

Not this time.

You push the door as hard as you can, causing it to fly open and for Erick’s grip to be released on it. As he stumbles back, you walk into the room, before softly shutting the door.

Spinning around on your heel, you face a very startled Erick, who just stands there, staring at you with wide eyes. A sigh escapes your lips as you cross your arms over your chest, meeting his intense gaze. As soon as his lips part, you cut him off.

“We need to talk and you’re not slamming the door in my face again,” You state sternly, trying to keep a poker face. In reality, you’re about as threatening as a rabbit, which Erick finds adorable. The anger you’re trying to put into your face makes you look like you have puppy dog eyes, completely tearing down the wall he put up around himself.

“Lo siento carino  Dime todo y piensaré sobre perdonándote o. Perdóname.” The honesty that’s evident in his voice causes you to drop the anger you’re attempting at portraying. With another sigh, you walk over to his bed, inviting yourself to sit on it and pull your knees to your chest.

“Dime todo y piensaré sobre perdonándote,” You say with a small smile, letting him know you’re kidding. This seems to relax his mood a bit, causing you to pat the spot next to you on the bed. Your fingers play with the edge of the sheet to distract you from staring at him and forgetting why you're here as he walks over. to sit next to you. Once he sits, crossing his legs, you dare to meet his gaze, which you find already on you.

“What’s going on amor?” You ask him, using the pet name you know he loves.

“Me extraño mi familia, en Cuba y en Florida mucho. No sé por qué ahora pero, por alunga razón, he estado triste por los últimos días.” You know it sometimes hard for him to express himself completely in English, so he always switches to Spanish when something serious is going on. The light that used to rest behind his bright green eyes has been dimmed, breaking your heart completely. His eyes disconnect from yours as he stares down at the comforter, trying to hide his apparent sadness.

In an instant, it hits you what’s wrong with him. Excitement runs through your veins, making you smack his arm to get his attention. 

“Ow!” He calls out, rubbing his arm and staring at you with his eyebrows knitted together.

“You’re homesick!” The word doesn’t seem to resonate in his brain, causing his eyebrows to furrow even more than before as his head cocks to the side slightly.

“Estoy triste porque llego a mi casa enfermo?” It takes all of your willpower not to laugh as you stare at him.

“No, no! La palabra significa cuando extraña malo a tu hogar o su familiar in inglés,” He raises his brows a big as he draws his lips downward slightly out of embarrassment for his bad English. You can't help but giggle, causing his eyes to meet your gaze again. The sound of your laugh always ignites something in him, drawing out a smile he didn’t know he could make based on the current feeling he was holding.

“It’s true though. They can’t come up to visit, they’re too busy. Every time I call they aren’t home or are sleeping because of the time zone differences. Lo que debo hacer?” He asks sadly, looking at you with hope-filled eyes. It seems for the second or third time today, you’re heart physically aches for the boy in front of you. He’s so attached to his family, which is something you love about him.

“Well, why don’t you text them and tell them you really miss them and want to see if you all can set up a time to FaceTime this week? I can’t see them saying no, they love you so much, Erick.” Within seconds, the boy is back to beaming at you, causing a sudden warmth to spread through your veins. At first, you don’t even realize his smile has made you smile the same way back at him.

“Eso es una buena idea! Gracias, Y/N.”

Before you can even respond, he’s already on his phone, fingers flying across the screen ecstatically. 

“Sent!” He calls out excitedly turning back to you. You smile at him happily, since his happiness seems to only enhance your own.

“Thanks for everything,” He begins, gazing at you, “I’ve been a really bad friend this week. I’m really sorry about that. I promise next time I’m hurting, I won’t push you away.” 

“I forgive you, Erick. It’s okay.”

“Good! Cuddles and Netflix?” He asks, causing you to grin, nodding excitedly at him. This is what you do for each other each time your down. It’s always cuddles and Netflix, no matter what.

Instantly, he’s pulling back the covers for you to get in, which you do, before sliding under them himself. Before you can even begin to lie down, his arm wraps tightly around your waist, yanking you into his chest. Your laughter rings out through the room, causing his heartbeat to skip a few beats, but when you smile up at him, it stops completely.

God, you have him so whipped, and he could care less.

With his arms wrapped around you and your head on his chest, you watch a random Netflix movie, unmoving. The coolness of the AC works in Erick’s favor, thank god, since you keep yourself tightly pressed into the side of his body for warmth. Knowingly, he doesn’t offer you a hoodie to put on over your tank top and shorts, even though he loves when you wear his hoodies. Right now, he wants to keep you as close as possible.

When the movie ends, neither of you dare move, not even to start the next one.

“You should FaceTime my family with me,” Erick finally says, shattering the peaceful silence of the room. The statement causes your breath to hitch in your throat, which Erick hears, causing him to grab your hand.

“Why?”

“Cause they love you so much! You know they always ask me about you and if we are dating yet,” He says matter-of-factly. The whole room goes completely silent, only the AC running in the background, and for a second, you can’t even hear him breathe with your head on his chest.

“You know we can’t.” Your voice is so quiet, you aren’t sure if he can even hear it. The confirmation he did comes in the form of a sigh.

“You know we can. The only person holding us back is you. I’m not sure what you’re afraid of. I mean god you know Clara is already talking about hiring you as a full-time member of the management team. She’s literally making a job for you right now.” You gasp loudly, lifting off his chest to look into his brown orbs to see if he’s bluffing.

“You’re kidding.”

“You didn’t know? Oh! I may have just spoiled the surprise... surprise nena?” He smiles cheekily at you when he says this causing you to grin back at him before excitedly bouncing up and down on the bed. His laughter sounds throughout the room at your excitement, but really his heart is beating twice as face as yours.

“Oh my god, Erick! You’re gonna be stuck with me!” You scream loudly causing him to burst out laughing yet again.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Well, now will you date me?” The statement stops your excited actions as you spin to face him. Your heart is dancing around in your chest, yet you feel constricted of oxygen. For a moment, you simply stare at him, contemplating the question.

“Yeah, yeah I will.” 

[aghotel]

Explore Peterborough’s Rich History: Landmarks and Heritage Sites

Nestled in the heart of Cambridgeshire, Peterborough is a city that effortlessly weaves the threads of history into the fabric of its modern existence. From its humble beginnings as a monastic settlement to its evolution into a vibrant urban centre, Peterborough boasts a rich tapestry of heritage sites and landmarks that offer a glimpse into its storied past. Join us on a journey through time as we explore Peterborough and its most fascinating historical gems.

Peterborough Cathedral A Testament to Faith and Architecture

No exploration of Peterborough’s history is complete without a visit to its crowning jewel, Peterborough Cathedral. Peterborough Cathedral is one of the finest Norman cathedrals in England. This iconic structure is a testament to the enduring power of faith and architecture. Originally founded as a monastic settlement in 654 AD, the cathedral we see today dates back to the 12th century. The cathedral’s stunning Romanesque architecture, complete with its striking West Front, draws visitors from around the world. Inside, you will discover awe-inspiring vaulted ceilings, intricate stained-glass windows, and the final resting place of Catherine of Aragon, the first wife of King Henry VIII. Peterborough Cathedral offers guided tours that delve into its history, making it a must-visit for anyone interested in the city’s heritage.

Learn more: www.peterborough-cathedral.org.uk

Longthorpe Tower A Medieval Masterpiece

Just a short distance from the city centre, Longthorpe Tower is a hidden gem that takes you back to medieval England. This charming three-story tower house, dating from the 14th century, boasts some of the finest and most complete surviving examples of medieval wall paintings in Northern Europe. Step inside and be transported to a time when knights roamed the countryside and lords and ladies held court. The wall paintings, which depict scenes from the medieval world, are a true marvel. Guided tours provide insights into the tower’s history and the stories behind these remarkable paintings.

Learn more: www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/longthorpe-tower

Nene Valley Railway A Journey on the Tracks of Time

For a more dynamic experience of Peterborough’s history, hop aboard the Nene Valley Railway. This heritage railway line stretches for seven and a half miles through the picturesque Nene Valley, offering a unique opportunity to travel back in time. Vintage steam and diesel locomotives pull meticulously restored carriages, taking passengers on a journey through the golden age of rail travel. The Nene Valley Railway offers a variety of events and themed rides throughout the year, from 1940s weekends to Christmas specials. It is a delightful way to experience history in motion and explore the scenic countryside surrounding Peterborough.n

Learn more: www.nvr.org.uk

Flag Fen Archaeology Park A Window to Prehistory

For those intrigued by prehistoric times, Flag Fen Archaeology Park is a treasure trove of ancient history. This archaeological site dates back to the Bronze Age and is home to a wooden causeway and platform that were constructed over 3,000 years ago. Visitors can explore the reconstructed Bronze Age roundhouse and the fascinating artefacts discovered in the area, which provide insights into the daily lives of our distant ancestors. The park’s immersive exhibits and guided tours allow you to step into the past and connect with Peterborough’s prehistoric heritage.

Learn more: www.flagfen.org.uk

Peterborough Museum and Art Gallery Chronicles of the City

To round off your exploration of Peterborough’s history, a visit to the Peterborough Museum and Art Gallery is essential. Housed in a stunning neo-Gothic building, the museum boasts an eclectic collection of artefacts, artworks, and exhibitions that span centuries. Discover the city’s past through exhibits on archaeology, natural history, and the local people who have shaped Peterborough. The museum frequently hosts special exhibitions and events, ensuring there is always something new to learn about this historic city.

Learn more: www.peterboroughmuseum.org.uk

As you explore Peterborough and its landmarks and heritage sites, you will gain a deeper appreciation for the city’s rich history and the people who have left their mark on its landscape. From medieval towers to prehistoric treasures, each site offers a unique glimpse into the past, making Peterborough a destination that history enthusiasts will cherish. So, lace up your walking shoes, pack your curiosity, and embark on a journey through time in this charming city that honours its heritage at every turn.

If you are looking for accommodation in Peterborough with on-site parking, a restaurant & bar, comfy rooms, and a convenient location, The Milestone Hotel is a perfect choice. Positioned just off Junction 16 of the A1(M), the hotel is ideally located 6 miles Southwest of Peterborough City Centre.

Love to explore? Discover and plan your perfect trip with local insights, travel guides and destination inspiration from AG Hotels Group. Sign up for our newsletters, here.

[losvolumenes]

Everyday, from the album Titanic Rising (2019) by Weyes Blood

Natalie Mering dirige el videoclip que ilustra el primer single de su último trabajo, una canción que habla de la necesidad de ser amado cada día en la era de Tinder. Un curioso homenaje al cine de terror y en concreto al slasher, desarrollado en una casa de campo decorada como el Great Northern Hotel que alojaba al agente Cooper, repleta de mozos y mozas ya talluditos haciéndose pasar por adolescentes donde encontramos ecos de Viernes 13 (Friday the 13th, Sean S. Cunnngham, 1980) o Posesión infernal (The Evil Dead, Sam Raimi, 1981), pero también a algunas cintas de Mario Bava o Dario Argento, los grafismos remiten al cine de terror de los sesenta y setenta, y está salpicado con todos los tópicos del género: los protagonistas muriendo uno a uno y a solas, teléfonos que no funcionan, gente que es asesinada justo al descubrir uno de los cadáveres... y con unas gotitas de hemoglobina, cómo no. Algo más actual es una secuencia de exteriores que se acerca a El proyecto de la bruja de Blair (The Blair Witch Project, Eduardo Sánchez, Daniel Myrick) y el desenlace es también un clásico, aquí inconcluso, así que no sabemos si terminará como La matanza de Texas (The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Tobe Hooper, 1974) o como La casa de los mil cadáveres (House of 1000 Corpses, Rob Zombie, 2003). Más o menos como una cita de Tinder.

Wake up, baby It's getting late now Fell so hard like I always do I'm so scared of being alone It's true, it's true I see you everyday But that's not enough I got this seeker running along a lonely line Always trying to make my keeper mine It gets me every time Then again, I might be falling down Sailing off on the ships to nowhere Got a lot of things to clear away Got a lot of years of bad love to make okay It gets me every day Then again, it might just be me Then again, love's not easy I need a love everyday I need True love is making a comeback For only half of us, the rest just feel bad Doomed to wander in the world's first rodeo You never let it show The other night, I was at a party And someone sincerely looked at me And said, "Is this the end of all monogamy?" And I said, "Not today Then again, you might be right Then again, sleep the night" I need a love everyday I need Lay down, my guy For a short time I cannot see (I cannot see) My love is right Lay down, my guy

[brittanythescrivener]

Behind Trinity Lines - Chapter Three: Welcome to the Jungle

Tags: @embracetranquilityson, @eintausendschoen, @roxlovescommanderourke4ever

Cozumel, Mexico

 It was early afternoon when Lara and Jonah arrived in Cozumel. The sun was shining, and the sky was bright blue with fluffy, white clouds. On the way into the village, Lara couldn’t help but marvel at the stunning scenery. White sandy beaches, turquoise blue waters, and vibrant green foliage surrounded them. Lara promised herself that once her business with Trinity was finally done she would take some time to just relax and enjoy life. She’d never been to Mexico before, but she already found herself quite fond of it.

“Where are we meeting your contact, Jonah?” Lara asked as the taxi came to a halt.

“A little place called La Casa Mexicana,” Jonah said. “I know the chef there.”

“Didn’t you eat on the plane?” Lara joked.

They exited the taxi, and Jonah led Lara toward a deserted courtyard. Lara immediately saw the darkened neon lights on the building ahead of them. La Casa Mexicana.

“There it is,” she said. “Let’s go.”

They were seated in a corner on the upstairs balcony overlooking the courtyard. They had only just ordered a round of drinks when Lara saw a short, heavily-built man in an apron and a ball cap approaching them.

“¡Oye, Jonah!” he called. “¿Cómo estás?”

Jonah stood and shook the man’s hand. “Lara, this is Hector Riviera.”

Hector joined them at the table, barely acknowledging Lara’s presence. She didn’t mind—she wasn’t exactly a people person anyway.

“You have some info for us?” Jonah asked.

“Dr. Dominguez has been searching for the entrance to a temple here for many years,” Hector said. “I think they are getting close. They have been bringing in more and more reinforcements.”

“Dr. Dominguez is here in Cozumel?” Lara asked. The name was familiar. She’d seen it in her father’s journals; they’d been friends before his death.

“No, I hear he is in Brazil right now. The man has fingers in many pies. The one in charge here is named Rourke. I’ve only seen him a handful of times, but he is a real pendejo.”

“So what is so important about this temple?” Lara asked.

Hector shrugged. “We do not know. Everything is very hush-hush.”

“Can you get us into the digs?” Jonah asked.

“Jonah, my friend, Dr. Dominguez and his men have been a great help to the people of this village, but they are not messing around. You need to be careful," Hector said.  “All I can do is give you the locations." 

“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Lara asked.

“I’ve had eyes on the dig closer to the city. I think that’s where their base camp is. I thought I had the front gate guard’s schedule down to a science, but they stuck a new guy up there today. A big guy with a creepy, scarred up face. Looks like he wants to strangle everyone he looks at.”

Jonah laughed. “Sounds about like Konstantin, doesn’t it, Lara?”

A wave of unease washed over Lara. She didn’t want to admit that the thought had already crossed her mind.

“I should get back to the kitchen,” Hector said. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and tossed it down onto the table. “I’ve written down the locations of all the dig sites. Good luck, my friends.”

Lara watched Hector leave the table, and she stared down at the bottle of beer a waitress had just placed in front of her.

“Something bothering you?” Jonah asked.

“What if Konstantin is here, Jonah?” Lara asked quietly.

“Don’t you trust him?” Jonah asked.

“I—I don’t know,” Lara muttered. “I want to trust him, but I’m not sure that I can.”

Jonah shrugged. “If he is here, there’s not much we can do about it . . . is there?”

Lara sighed. “I guess not.”

Jonah patted Lara’s shoulder and said, “Then don’t worry about it unless you have reason to. Let’s go back to the hotel and catch some sleep, and we’ll start checking out those dig sites tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” she said. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and said, “I’ll be right up.”

Lara unlocked her phone and started composing a message. K, we made it to Cozumel. Trinity is here in full force.

She sent the message and waited for the delivery notification, but it didn’t appear. Either his phone was off, or he was out of range. Konstantin always had his phone on, so Lara was once again hit with a wave of unease. If he really was there in Cozumel, she would find out sooner or later.

 *                    *                    *

  Trinity Base

Mobile, Alabama

 Commander Rourke wandered across the airplane hangar with his hands stuffed in his pockets. They were set to leave for Mexico in a matter of minutes, and he was waiting for the rest of the team to board the chopper idling outside.

The night before, for the first time in almost three years, Rourke slept in his own house in his own bed, and it felt damn good. He had never considered himself to be much of a homebody—sometimes he had trouble remembering what home was even like—but he decided that at that point in his life, at thirty-seven years old, putting down roots was sounding better and better.

His patience with Dr. Dominguez was growing thin. Dominguez had sent him on a wild goose chase all over Central and South America since the botched mission to find the Divine Source, and after almost a decade in the Special Forces, he was growing weary with living out of a duffel bag. He was always moving around, living somewhere new with new, unfamiliar people.

Rourke thought of his family back in Providence. He hadn’t seen or spoken to them in nearly ten years. He had long been seen as the black sheep of the picture-perfect Rourke family, but he was virtually disowned and disinherited when he decided to leave the Army to join the ranks of Trinity.

Trinity had changed everything for Rourke. He was respected, even revered, for his accomplishments and was put in a position where he could use his talents and experience accordingly. He didn’t have anyone to impress or satisfy. He was able to create an identity for himself that he was pleased with.

He watched from afar as Jo entered the hangar cautiously. She too was dressed in Trinity’s standard-issue hot weather uniform. Despite the masculine cut of the combat fatigues she wore, she looked incredible. Her shirt was casually unbuttoned, and Rourke could see the tiny gold cross necklace she’d worn for as long as he could remember.

Her saw her face go white the moment she laid eyes on the black utility helicopter nicknamed Cardinal Two. He felt bad for a moment; she’d told him over a year ago that she was done with Trinity, and he pulled her back in despite everything that had gone on in Siberia.

When Rourke finally boarded the chopper and gave the order to move out, he sat down in the empty seat beside Jo. As they prepared for take off, he heard her draw in a deep breath as she stared at the seat directly in front of her.

“You okay?” Rourke asked as he buckled himself into his seat. He knew she wasn’t.

Jo shook her head. “The last time I was on one of these birds . . . it was crashing.”

She pulled her duffel into her lap and fished around inside it until she found a bottle of pills. She popped one into her mouth and clenched her eyes shut.

“What are those?” Rourke asked with concern.

“Benzos,” Jo muttered. “How long is this flight?”

“About four hours,” Rourke said.

“Fuck,” she said under her breath. “Jesus Christ, why did I agree to this?” Jo said.

Rourke reached toward her and offered her his hand.

Jo ignored his gesture and said, “I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine.”

She was clearly not fine.

The cabin rocked slightly as the chopper ascended, and Jo drew in a sharp breath. She grabbed Rourke’s still outstretched hand and clenched her eyes shut.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Rourke said.

Jo squeezed his hand tightly and said, “I will be so happy when this thing lands.”

“Jo, look at me,” Rourke said earnestly.

Jo slowly opened her eyes and turned to face him.

“You’re safe,” he reassured. “You’re not alone.”

Jo nodded her head slowly and turned her attention back onto the empty seat across from her.

“Hey,” Rourke said, “do me a favor and don’t throw up in my lap this trip.”

Jo groaned. “I’d almost forgotten about that. Thanks for reminding me.”

Rourke laughed softly. “No problem.”

“So what are we doing in Cozumel?” Jo asked, her voice still trembling.

“Dr. Dominguez is running a few digs on the island.”

“Dr. Dominguez?” Jo asked with surprise. “So this must be a pretty big deal for you and him both to be running things.”

Rourke sighed and rubbed his beard with his free hand. “Honestly, Jo? There aren’t many of us left. Croft has been a busy little bitch the past year.”

Rourke felt Jo bristle next to him at the mere mention of her name.

“So is that why you called me, too? Because there was no one else left?”

“No,” Rourke said. “I wanted you back.”

Jo met his eyes again.

“We used to be so close, and then with the Army and med school, we lost a lot of time.”

Jo gave him a small smile. “I see what you’re saying—in your long, convoluted way of putting it. I’ve missed you too.”

Rourke smiled to himself as Jo turned away from him again.

Jo closed her eyes and finally let herself relax in her seat. “So I hope this assignment is like 95% working on my tan and 5% actually treating patients.”

“I hope so, too,” Rourke said a little uneasily.

He knew that once they arrived in Cozumel Croft wouldn’t be far behind.

 *                    *                    *

  Cozumel, Mexico

 Konstantin shielded his eyes from the scorching sun and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He was wearing heavy cargo pants and a tactical vest—far too many layers for the current weather in Mexico. He had only just arrived a few hours before, and he already didn’t appreciate being volunteered for watch in an open area during the hottest time of day. He supposed Rourke was punishing him by giving him all the duties no one else wanted to make some sort of an example out of him.

He was starting to get lightheaded from the heat, so he stripped off the vest, tossing it to the ground. Getting shot at that point would’ve been sweet relief from the damn heat. He rolled up his sleeves and wiped his face again. He sighed with irritation as he glanced down at his watch. He only had an hour left until someone else came to relieve him.

Konstantin was scanning the treeline, looking for anything interesting, when he heard footsteps approaching him. He turned to see a tall, very tan, and very well-groomed man in an officer’s uniform. His eyes dropped to the name patch on his chest. Winters.

Winters shielded his eyes from the sun and said, “Commander Rourke sent me to tell you that your backup got detained, so you’re going to have to stick it out a few more hours.”

Konstantin clenched his jaw and said, “Yes, sir.”

Winters smirked at him and said, “You got a problem with that, Miller?”

“No problem at all, Winters,” Konstantin said through gritted teeth.

“It’s Commander Winters,” he said smugly. “So I guess you won’t mind pulling a double, then?”

“Even better,” Konstantin said. He tightened his grip on his rifle to keep himself from taking a swing at him.

Winters’ radio crackled. “This is Rourke. Winters, I want all dig sites rigged with explosives. I don’t want anyone getting inside unless they’re supposed to be in there.”

Konstantin’s gut wrenched into a knot. He knew that Lara was probably already in Cozumel, and it was only a matter of time before she found her way into Trinity’s business. He hadn’t yet taken the time to consider what he would do if they crossed paths. He knew he was going to have to figure out where he stood with all of it before they found themselves face to face, or he knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

Konstantin watched Winters walk away and then turned his attention back to the gate.  Just then it rolled open, and he found himself staring straight at her.  It was Jo, staring right back at him, just as surprised as he was.

“Jo!”

Jo wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably. “Konstantin.”

“How are you?”

“I’m well,” Jo said.

“How long have you been here?” Konstantin asked.

“I just got here a few hours ago,” Jo said.

“I had no idea you’d be here.”

A strained silence fell between them before Jo finally said, “Listen, I’d love to catch up, but I’m late for . . . a thing.”

She started to walk away, but Konstantin yelled after her. “You could’ve taken my calls! I’ve been trying to find you for months.”

Jo stopped and slowly turned to face him.

“I had no way of knowing if you were okay,” Konstantin said sternly.

Jo put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

He braced himself for her worst. “Maybe this isn’t the best time to talk about this.”

“This is the perfect time to talk about it since you brought it up, Konstantin. Where should I start?”

Konstantin stared at her blankly.

“You fucked Trinity’s Most Wanted. You forced me onto that chopper with you. You hit me. You put my life in danger.”

Konstantin frowned. “Jo, you are being overly dramatic about all of this.”

“I almost fucking died, Konstantin!” Jo shouted.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

Jo pointed her finger at him and said, “I was nothing but loyal to you for six years. I was always there for you, and I never asked for anything in return. I never bothered you with my problems. But I guess I was expecting too much to think that you’d show some loyalty to me. I loved you for six years, Konstantin. For six years. And you knew. But you didn’t give a shit. So, no, I didn’t take your calls because I thought it would be for the best that we don’t talk anymore.”

“Jo—.”

“Everything okay here?”

Konstantin and Jo both turned abruptly to see Rourke standing behind them.

Jo backed away from Konstantin and joined Rourke. “I was just leaving.”

 Once they were out of earshot, Jo rounded on Rourke.

“So did you forget to mention that he would be here, or did you do it on purpose?” she demanded.

“I don’t know what went down between you two, but it must’ve been some serious shit.”

“Yeah, it was,” Jo said darkly.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew this is how you would react,” Rourke said with annoyance. “I’ll make sure you don’t have to deal with him again.”

“You better,” Jo said. She poked him in the chest and said, “Or I will rip your dick off and shove it so far up your ass that you’ll taste cock for the rest of your life.”

He smirked and said, “So . . . we still drinking tonight?”

Jo rolled her eyes and walked away.

[europeas20]

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[allthevmff]

Funeral Masses for Aaron Echolls: Viewing Hours 4 to 6

by iateyourheart

xx

Reporter 1: We're here outside of the Neptune County Jail where the body of actor Aaron Echolls was discovered this morning. The star of such films as In Pursuit of Happiness was awaiting trial for the murder of Lilly Kane, daughter of software mogul, Jake Kane. The official cause of death has not yet been revealed...

xx

  The worst part of all of this crap, has to be the look on their faces. It's a rather piss poor attempt at sympathy that's more than likely fueled by good manners than any honest-to-god trace of the aforementioned emotion. Despite the maximum sadness factor, you appreciate the effort they put into the lie.

And, yeah, you get it. Honestly, you do.

Aaron Echolls may have been god's biggest misuse of human cells, but the man was still your father; a bit of respect is still required in situations such as these, whether the not-so dearly departed truly deserves it.

You understand where they're coming from. Why they would feel the need to offer you condolences and ask how you're doing. Seriously. You understand completely.

But, you don't for a second let this rare sign of maturity keep you from being annoyed as fuck by all of these forced, insincere pleasantries. You weren't fucking born yesterday and you know the breaking news blurb on the death of that part-time actor, full-time sociopath lifted a weight off of many-a-shoulder. Somewhere, church bells were probably ringing, and little forest creatures with wide anime expressions were probably hopping around singing with glee.

You may understand where they're coming from, but you just wish people would cut the shit already and be honest.

So, when you breeze into the hotel room and find Veronica and Duncan cozily snuggled up like the walking embodiment of teen-dream puppy love that they are, and they grace you with uncomfortable looks and fumbled words "How are you holding up?", you're armed with a plan.

Well, not so much a plan as it is a statement. There's no doubt your feelings are going to be conveyed quite nicely:

Duncan says nothing and Veronica gives you a look that smells of righteous indignation when you flop down in between them with a bottle of Boonesfarm in your hand. Deliciously ghetto, but gets you wasted all the same.

"Flip it to CNN," you order as you go to work on unscrewing the top of the Blue Hawaiian flavored alcohol.

"What the hell are you doing?" Veronica's giving you the eye. She disapproves already. That's ashame, really, cause you planned on sharing.

There's a sigh from Duncan, but he complies, and the moment you hear the reporter mention dear ole' daddy's name, you take a big swig from the bottle.

"Celebrating," you tell her after a particularly hard swallow. "Here's to..." you begin hoisting the bottle in the air with mock dramatics, "here's to aneurysms. Nature's little miracles."

  xx

Tonight, on The Insider – the emotional interview with the daughter of Aaron Echolls, you don't want to miss.

:video clip:

Pat O'Brien: Had your father lived, do you believe he would have been acquitted of murder charges?

Trina Echolls: Oh, definitely. Definitely. I, know he was innocent. There was just so much misinformation about him before he died...

Pat O'Brien: The claims of abuse...

Trina Echolls: Right. It's all nonsense, Pat. My dad was a good man; he couldn't hurt a fly let alone his own children!

:end video clip:

xx

  "To my beloved daughter, Trina, I bequeath all of my personal effects in the house..."

A snort. "Good luck collecting that."

"Totaling two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars. In addition, I also leave you a total of five million dollars. To my son, Logan..."

This should be good.

"...I leave a total of five million as well..."

Your face scrunches; hell, you were expecting a little more than a measly five mill – five million doesn't exactly say "Sorry I murdered your girlfriend, son".

"That's it? What about my trust fund?"

A sour expression forms on Barry's face and he makes a show of clearing his throat and ruffling papers. "Not to be touched until you're twenty-one. Both of your parents made that fact very clear."

"And, uh, how exactly am I supposed to collect all of my share?" Trina speaks up suddenly. "Half of it is char grilled thanks to him."

Obviously, your sis missed that memo on the fire that claimed casa-de Echolls; the one that points out the fact that the arsonists backs were considerably wet in nature. You, however, fake shock complete with your hand on your chest and a gasp. It has the desired affect and Trina narrows her brown eyes while mumbling something that's either a threat or a curse – most likely both. She can be so incredibly easy sometimes.

"You'll have to take that up with the insurance company. Although, I think there were a few items of Aaron's that survived the fire..." Barry's sifting through papers again and you take the opportunity to clean your fingernails with his letter opener. "Ah, yes," he says when he's found what he was searching for, "Three of Aaron's awards were recovered: two Golden Globes and a Blockbuster award. They now belong to you."

You can't help but smile,

"No fair! Clearly, dad liked the you best!"

  xx

Reporter 2: Funeral services for Aaron Echolls get underway today at St. Francis Catholic Church...

xx

  "You, know, I don't understand this at all."

It's amazing, the amount of strangers who show up at the church. Fans with your father's face adorning their T-shirts. Reporters with their cameras and questions.

"What is with this attitude, son?"

Only five people Aaron actually knew in life came to his funeral. Trina's flavor of the month, counted just as much as the flask you hid away in your pocket. And when your grandmother disappeared back into the comfort of her limo, and Conner Larkin walked outside to take questions, and Barry decided to head to the cemetery, and Trina's date grew tired of the bleak atmosphere and whisked her away, you were the only one left.

All alone. With him.

"Where I stand, you should be thanking me."

The grin on your father's face is enough to turn your stomach so hard you fear you might collapse. His head cocks to the side on that pillow of eternal rest and those cold eyes burn into yours.

"Thanking you?" your voice is shaky. You grip the side of the casket for support.

"For taking Lilly off your hands," he tells you simply. "She didn't exactly love you, you know."

Your mouth fills up with blood and at that point, you think it's best to remove your teeth from the meat of your cheek. "Shut up."

"I was only trying to protect you, Logan. It's just like you to take a piece of ass and try and turn her into a housewife." He tsks. "Once a whore, always a whore."

"You know shit about Lilly."

"C'mon, you've seen the tapes." Aaron chuckles and you feel a sudden urge to vomit. "For all intents and purposes, I think I knew her pretty well. I did you a favor, boy."

"You murdered my girlfriend, and you fucking got away with it! Do you really think I'm gonna mourn you? Shed one tear because you got to die in your sleep all quick and painless?" You glower, your hand gripping the casket's side so tightly your knuckles are white as sheets. "I should've bashed your head in while I had the chance. Or set you on fire."

"Oh, so is that what all of this hostility is all about? Veronica Mars?" His laugh echoes in your ears. "I hear she's dating Duncan again. Don't 'cha wish she would have stayed in that refrigerator just a few minutes longer?"

Aaron's casket rattles violently when you kick it. Your right foot feels as if it's been broken in two, but on a scale of one-to-ten measuring how much your very existence sucks beyond the telling of it, physical pain doesn't even register.

"Logan?"

It's her concerned voice that pulls you back to reality.

  xx

:video clip:

Conner Larkin: All I ask is that you show the Echolls family the respect they deserve during this difficult time.

:end video clip:

xx

  You fractured your right foot. Way to go, brain trust.

Veronica sits, arms folded, watching you greedily gulp down the pain killers the nurse handed you. She patiently waits until the two of you are alone again,

"Did it make you feel any better?"

The question's sincere; you're just too slow to stop your mouth from spitting out the first dickhead-ish sentence that comes to mind.

"Right as rain," you snicker. "Grey skies clearing up. I'm putting on my happy face."

"Logan, I'm..." she starts and stops at the sound of your hollow laughter.

"Don't even think about telling me you're sorry, Veronica. If you feel that bad – pick out a Hallmark card and let Snoopy say it for you, cause I've heard enough 'sorrys' to last a lifetime."

She stares at you for a minute before wordlessly sitting down on the end of the hospital bed. "I'm sorry he never paid for what he did," she says quietly and you know that will be the last you ever hear of it from her lips. Veronica Mars isn't exactly the queen of overstating emotion and you'd likely drop fucking dead of shock if she did it more than once.

The pills are kicking in and to say that you feel good at the moment would be an understatement.

You fall asleep with your fingers entwined with hers.

  xx

Tonight on The Insider... Brad and Angelina, could wedding bells be just around the corner?

xx

  Giving you a cane is like giving a wino a bottle of Old English. You're quick to use it to test the limits of your fellow man; you poke waitresses, jab unsuspecting children, and get out of hours of tedious homework. When your temporary cripple status doesn't work, you kindly remind everyone you're an orphan.

An orphan with a bum foot.

Dick thinks it's hilarious. Duncan merely shakes his head and smiles at your antics. Veronica says that maybe you've been watching those House dvd's a little too much.

After your episode at the church, everyone suggests you go and see a shrink. Talk things out. Get some closure.

"Batter, up?"

You've got your own ideas on the matter.

Cane in hand, you hobble up to the makeshift plate and throw Veronica a smile over your shoulder as you fix the goggles over your eyes.

"I still don't think it's fair that you get first up," she pouts.

"Hey, when your daddy kills your girlfriend, then you can get first bat," you sardonically tell her.

She grins. "Pinky swear?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

Never one to pass up an opportunity for the dramatic, you point your cane out toward the sky as if you were the Great Bambino himself, and with one fluid motion, you bring the oak crashing down.

The Blockbuster Award for Favorite Actor in a Romantic Comedy shatters into a million, tiny pieces.

You'll do this closure thing in your own, special way.

via AO3 works tagged 'Veronica Mars - All Media Types' https://ift.tt/2K1PYik April 3, 2019 at 04:50AM

[casagoldhomemakeover]

5 Things You need to know before you buy a Butterfly Chair

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For more details, visit www.casagold.in for more details.

[casadelsognogoa]

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