#my night train back home to germany. spent the rest of winter and the coming spring with the mighty nein. having them keep me company in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theasstour · 3 years

Photo

𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕.𝟕𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚

Tuesday, 13 December 2017

Tooley Street was always busy, whether there were a horde of people walking to and from the riverside and underground, or cars driving by at a ridiculous speed. London Bridge station on the other side of the road to where Y/N and the gang sat at Caffé Nero, looked like a small insect in comparison to The Shard that reached like a pillar above the partly cloudy winter sky. The blue painted brick building beside it, The Shipwright Arms pub, was a lively addition to an otherwise very bleak street.

The winter wind by the riverside was horrendous, but Y/N had offered to come with Annalise on her cigarette break, so she had only herself to blame for exposing herself to more of the biting cold than completely necessary. From where the two were sitting, they could just make out Tower Bridge behind them, bare trees rising up along the streets that indicated summer was long gone and winter had arrived.

Y/N had spent a lot of time just sitting outside the last few days. Whether it was on a bench by Regent’s Canal, in the grass at Shoreditch Park, or at a table outside a café with a coffee in hand. She had just been sitting there, staring out at nothing. Thinking. All she had been doing since finding that watch was think.

She had tried to find some kind of logical explanation as to why that watch had the coordinates for her family’s Newport cabin, but there was none. What kind of connection did George have to Newport? To that cabin? Had he just fucked her and left it there because he knew who Y/N’s sister was? And where was George now? She had not seen him since that night in October, was he still around? Or had Y/N just missed him when he had been, and this had all just been a huge coincidence. But Y/N somehow knew, deep down, that this was far from a coincidence and she should not treat it as one.

“You have to come to Monnickendam,” Annalise said, blowing out a puff of white smoke.

Y/N looked away from a man across the street who was arguing passionately with someone on his phone. Shoving the thoughts of the watch that was laid on her desk in her room, out of her head. She had not told anyone about it, this was not something she wanted everyone to know about because she had no idea what it meant. The only person that knew was Harry, and she would like to keep it that way.

“I’ve never been to the Netherlands,” Y/N said.

“Even more of a reason to come.”

Y/N smiled. “Buzzing. I haven’t travelled much in Europe, mostly been to Brazil with my family.”

“When you come to Monnickendam, we have to take the train to, like, Germany or France. Andorra is also so beautiful, I think you’re gonna love it.”

“Make a roadtrip out of it.”

“Exactly.”

Y/N’s smile grew. “Had you been to London before you came here for school?”

Annalise brought the cigarette up to her mouth. “Loads of times.”

“Really?”

“Yes, we went here around Easter in 2012 the first time, and I fell in love. Went here four more times, then to an Open Day last year.”

Y/N nodded. “Was Helmond your first choice then? Did you like it the best?”

“No, Battersea was, but I’m happy I ended up at Helmond.” Annalise breathed out white vapour. “Helmond’s prettier.”

Y/N laughed. “The aesthetic is more important than the uni itself, innit? If you can’t take decent Instagram pictures there, what’s the point of spending the next three years at that place?”

Annalise laughed along with Y/N, taking a last drag. “I rarely use Instagram.”

“I used to. I loved to like document my life, to let all my friends and family know what I was doing at all times. But then I found Snapchat, and it’s just better.”

“You know that if you, like, save a picture or video in the Snapchat app, Snapchat owns it?”

Y/N blinked.

“At least what someone at home told me once.”

“Doesn’t Instagram do the same?” Y/N asked.

“Think so,” Annalise said, walking over to the litter and stumping her cigarette out in the ash tray on top of it. “Ground rule: don’t save anything onto social media. Anyone can save and see your pictures.”

“Basically,” Y/N mumbled, looking over at the man she had watched earlier. He was still arguing with someone over the phone.

“Ready to head back inside?” Annalise asked.

“Yeah.” Y/N got up and the two strolled back over to the Caffé Nero their three other mates were sat in. Thian, Hayden, and Chloe were all sat with their laptops in front of them and books in the centre of the table behind their screens. Chloe was talking animatedly as Y/N and Annalise approached, Hayden busy with something on the laptop in front of them while Thian sat with a book in his hands, looking at Chloe as she spoke. Y/N took off her puffer jacket, hanging it off the back of her chair as she sat down, adjusting her black V-neck jumper and loose denim jeans.

“…the problem isn’t that. The problem is the fact that they never clean up after themselves. That’s the problem,” Chloe said, groaning loudly. “And when I ask in the flat groupchat if anyone wanna be social, no one answers. I swear, all of them hate me.”

“Maybe they’re just busy,” Thian suggested.

“They always say that, but I know two of the boys are in Dave’s room playing something on that PlayStation.” Chloe crossed her arms over her chest. “Should I learn how to play FIFA?”

“You don’t have to impress them,” Y/N said, turning her laptop back on to finish the essay for Critical Reading that was due that Friday.

“No, I know. But if I want to hang out with anyone in my flat, I gotta do something. What games do you play in the PlayStation, Thian?”

Thian stared at Chloe for a second, mouth working before he mumbled, “I didn’t bring one to uni.”

“Alright, then what did you play at home?”

“Call of Duty.”

Chloe scrunched up her nose. “Isn’t that a war game?”

“Yeah.”

“Nah, I’m not into that.” Chloe grimaced, looking at something further away. “I’ve never really played PlayStation. One of the blokes I dated in college gamed a lot, but I couldn’t be asked to sit around and just watch.”

“The three in my flat play GTA,” Y/N said. “At least that’s what Nathan wants to play, Harry and Mason just go along.”

Chloe’s face instantly lit up. “Oh, my word, Y/N. You have to make Harry teach me how to play something on the PlayStation.”

There was a slight pang in Y/N’s chest at the sound of his name leaving Chloe’s lips in that way. Y/N opened, then closed her mouth, then opened it again. “I don’t really hang out with them when they play it. I’ve had so much to do these past months.”

“That’s fine, Nathan can keep us company,” Chloe said, leaning back in her seat. “Make Mason come, too. God-“ She grinned, letting her head fall between her shoulder blades. “-Your flatmates are fit.”

“Harry’s fitter than Mason,” Hayden chimed in.

“No, definitely Mason,” Annalise said.

“I can’t choose. Depends on my mood,” Chloe mused.

Thian kept quiet, staring pointedly at his laptop.

“Can you do it? Make them teach me?” Chloe begged, sticking her bottom lip out at Y/N.

Y/N took a deep breath. “I’ll try.”

Chloe grinned.

“They might be busy, too. Might not get to it till after Christmas break.”

Chloe waved her hand. “That’s fine. I just want to hang out with someone from my flat eventually.”

Y/N glanced down at her laptop again, trying to forget the conversation she had just had with the other three. Chloe continued chattering on about something of no significance, Y/N did not care to listen as she wanted to finish her essay before she had to leave for home coming Saturday. Though her coffee was cold now as she took a sip of it, Y/N still appreciated the taste of caffeine. It woke her up, made her more alert and focused.

Ever since she was seven years old, her papai had made her coffee to drink. He always said “coffee is as vital to a Brazilian’s existence as tea is to a Brit’s” and she had drunk it ever since. She loved the taste of it much more than tea, but seeing as tea was much easier to make, she had come to resort to it here in London. Home in Nottingham, there was always a brew in the making or one ready for whoever felt like having a cup, made with a proper coffee machine that Davi had invested proper money in. He had bought it back in 2001, and it worked just as well as it did back then. Y/N, like her papai, loved the coffee from that old coffee maker more than anything else. She could not wait until she was home with her parents so she could drink proper coffee all the time without going to the nearest coffee shop to do so. The instant coffee Nathan often made smelled and tasted rank, Y/N would have no other coffee than her papai’s and a cup made at a coffee shop.

“I’m gonna go buy a muff,” Hayden said, getting up from their chair. “This essay is doing my head in, I need something to sooth the pain.”

“Oh, could you buy me a scone?” Thian asked, putting his hands together as if he was begging on his knees. “I’ll pay with five stellar knock knock jokes.”

“Make it six.”

“Deal.”

The two shook hands and Hayden grinned as they looked at the other three. “Anything from the trolley, dears?”

Y/N and Annalise chuckled. “No thanks,” Y/N said, Annalise saying the same thing.

“No, I’ll just add to this,” Chloe said, patting at her stomach.

“Add to what?” Hayden asked.

“A belly.” Chloe gripped the little that was protruding from her tight denim jeans. “I’m trying to start working out for bikini season, to remove that extra uni weight, you know?”

Hayden looked absolutely lost, so did Thian, and Annalise looked to not be paying any attention at all. Y/N, however, felt a familiar pang in her chest. It was a small explosion she had felt before, one that would taint the rest of her day. Instinctively, she put her scarf around her chest, letting it fall over her stomach.

Hayden did not comment, instead they just walked up to the till, ready to tell the lady working there their order. The table fell silent, but not for the reason Y/N wanted it to. No, they were all just busy with their essays. Y/N knew that it would be impossible for her to concentrate on the assignment now that the only thing she would be thinking about for the rest of the day was Chloe’s comment. Chancing a look over at her friend, she saw her flicking through a book in her lap, completely unbothered, Annalise was cocking her head to the side as she wrote something on her Mac, while Thian was watching Hayden pay for their food. None of them had batted an eyelash. Which was nothing new, Y/N was used to no one picking up on covered up fatphobic comments.

She knew that Chloe had not said those things with her in mind, that the statement had been about her own body only. But Y/N could not help but feel the comment in her very soul. She could remember her mates from school in Nottingham making comments similar to that one, so hearing it wasn’t alien, but it stung as much as hearing it that first time.

“Here we go,” Hayden said, putting the scone down on Thian’s keyboard.

“Scones are so bloody good,” Thian moaned, taking a huge bite out of his. “If we had to fuck a food, I’d fuck scones.”

The table went quiet, all looking at Thian. He just continued on eating, humming some Alesso and Conor Maynard song that was always playing on the radio.

“Why did you just say that?” Hayden asked.

“Felt like sharing my thoughts with the class.”

Hayden raised their eyebrows before looking at the laptop in front of them. “The class did not need to know.”

Thian shrugged his shoulders and Annalise laughed, Chloe joining in after a little while. Y/N smiled at them, but her thoughts still drifted back to Chloe’s comments just a minute earlier. She spread her scarf out over her stomach, wishing she had worn something that wasn’t so tight fitted.

Friday, 15 December 2017

“Sorry we’re late,” Mason said as him and the rest of the rugby team streamed into the seminar room. Hayden, Y/N, Thian, Chloe, Annalise, Nathan, and Annalise’s two friends were all sat around one table, already having started a round of Uno.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Hayden smiled. “I’ve put Uno decks on the other tables.”

“Cheers.”

Mason and the rest of the team sat down, all chatting amongst themselves and letting go of heavy sighs as they took their seats. It was clear that the last training session for the team this year had not only been cold, but also immensely tiring. They all looked very ready to travel home for Christmas break, and it looked like a few already had.

Y/N felt their struggle with the cold. She herself was wearing a mini linen skater dress in black. The skirt was loose, making it comfortable to hide her belly in – she had not stopped thinking about Chloe’s comment all week, but it would not stop her from looking really fucking good – and the waist was open, baring some of her skin and rib tattoo to everyone. Her skin protruded around the straps that were wrapped around her waist, connecting her skirt from her top, but there was nothing she could do about it, so she just tried to stay out of Chloe’s vision. The plunge neck revealed a very deep cleavage and skin, making it so Y/N had put on two silver necklaces to top of the outfit. The rest of the top had long sleeves and a nice collar, which was why Y/N had bought the dress. It was slutty, but in a modest way.

The rest of the gang around the table had also dressed up, ready to go out after this. They all had their last lecture of the semester today, meaning that their Christmas break had just started, and they wanted to celebrate before everyone travelled to their separate locations the next day. Chloe to Oxford, Thian to Bristol, Hayden to Sheffield, Annalise to Monnickendam, and Y/N back home to Nottingham. It would be weird not to meet up with them, to not go to lectures and stress about assignments for the next month. Then again, Annalise had made a Snapchat and Messenger group to ensure that the gang would talk every single day. And knowing her mates, Y/N was sure they would.

During a break between rounds, Y/N got up from their table after making sure that her polyamide shorts underneath her dress didn’t roll down her stomach. She wore them to prevent chafing, knowing that if she did not wear them underneath her skirt, it would be hard for her to wear anything the next day. She did the zip of her chunky sock boots before making her way over to Mason’s table.

“Alright, Y/N?” Mason said as she came closer, giving her a small smile.

“How’re you lot finding the society?” she asked, looking around the table, meeting Kai’s eyes.

Kai beamed. “Good, it’s nice to spend some time with the whole team off the rugby pitch.”

“You’re dressed up,” Mason pointed out. “What’s the occasion?”

“Uno Society.”

Mason smiled. “Trying to pull some rugby players, are ya?”

“No. No, rugby players.”

Mason only raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t believe her, smile widening.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re just as unbearable as Harry sometimes.”

“Nah, Harry’s worse than me.”

“Right.” Y/N took a big breath. “Chloe over there, the blonde,” Y/N said, motioning behind her with a nod of her head. Mason’s gaze immediately fell on Chloe. “She’s wondering if you and Harry can teach her how to play the PlayStation.”

Mason blinked, looking over at Kai as the bigger man clapped his hands together before laughing.

“Is that funny?” Y/N asked.

“No, it’s not. I just knew Kai would react like that,” Mason said. “But I’ll do it. After Christmas at some point.”

“Nice, I’ll tell her that, then.”

“Why does she need someone to teach her how to play PlayStation?” Kai asked, and though there was laughter in his voice, Y/N could tell his question was sincere.

“Some blokes in her flat never want to be social, they just stay in this one room playing PlayStation, and she’s kinda left out ‘cause she doesn’t really know how to play.”

“That might not work out,” Kai said, smiling still.

“Worth a shot, either way.”

“Maybe she just wanna spend time with this hunk,” Kai grinned, putting a hand on Mason’s shoulder. “Or the other hunk that’s not here.”

“Speaking of him,” Y/N said, putting a hand on her hip. “Not that I care, but where is he?”

Kai grinned, sitting back in his chair. “You don’t care? Not at all?”

“No, Y/N doesn’t like Harry much,” Mason explained, completely unbothered. “He’s working. The team’s popping by The Stag’s Head later to check on him since it’s his last shift and all that.”

Y/N nodded, suddenly remembering how Harry had told her that a few weeks ago.

“What’s the bellend done to you?” Kai asked.

“Another time, Kai. We’re in the middle of a round,” Mason said. “I’ll find a day that’s good for Chloe to come over.”

“Wicked,” Y/N smiled. “See ya.”

“Later, mate.”

Y/N walked back to her table, sitting down in her seat again. “Sorry,” she said when Hayden gave her a look. “Chloe, Mason said he could teach you how to play PlayStation sometime after Christmas break.”

Chloe squealed. “Really?!”

“Yeah, he’ll text me saying when.”

“Ahh! Buzzing!”

Y/N gave her a smile before the gang went back to playing.

Though she was physically present over the next hour or so, Y/N’s mind travelled back to the flat and the watch on her desk. Besides assignments, Christmas, and what Chloe said on Tuesday, that was all Y/N had spent her time thinking about. She would be in bed, about to go to sleep, then just get out of her bed and look at the watch, study it carefully. Maybe there was another message of sorts on it, maybe she was supposed to do something with it. But other days she did not want to touch that watch. There was something about it, something about how it had just been left in her possession so casually, something about the fact that she had not seen George since that night, that did not sit right with Y/N at all.

Throughout the rest of the night, after the Uno Society, while the gang was sat at a pub, and then dancing at a club later, Y/N could not bring herself to enjoy herself thoroughly. All her energy went back to that watch. She wanted to understand what it meant, why George had it, and what she was supposed to do with the information. Was she even supposed to do anything at all? It only made her want to travel down to Newport even more. She had to now. Her parents might think about getting rid of that cabin, but Y/N had to revisit it one last time before that happened.

Y/N did not drink that night; she was afraid of the conspiracy theories she would form if she did. She had one cocktail at the pub they went to, but could not do more than that, and her mates did not ask questions as to why she was not drinking, something she really appreciated. It was late when she announced she would be going home, and so she called Nathan and made him stay on the line with her as she took the tube back to Haggerston Station. Once she reached Orsman Road, she could hear his snores on the other end, and hung up halfway down the road to the flat. However, in the distance, she saw a stag’s head sign hanging out on a metal pole, protruding from the building opposite her flat building. She suddenly remembered what Mason said, and crossed the road, making her way over to the pub.

A small group of lads made their way out of the pub as Y/N reached it, the last one holding the door for her. She smiled and thanked him before walking inside. Now that she wasn’t affected by alcohol, Y/N was finally able to take in the pub properly without having the slight haze of alcohol taint it. The lights were comfortably dimmed, not too much so you could not read the menu, but just enough so that a person’s facial features would be a tad blurry. The red that ran along the wall behind the dark bar counter was subtle, giving the bar a sense of holding onto the secrets of each person who walked through the front doors, like a Victorian murder mystery. Y/N could see Sweeney Todd’s barber shop trapped in the same colours.

“Excuse me, miss,” a man walking out from behind the counter said, grey hair and broad shoulders. “We’re closed.”

“Oh,” she said, looking around the dark pub. “I… I thought I might find Harry here.”

The man narrowed his eyes a little. “He’s got a new girlfriend? So soon after the other ones?”

Y/N felt herself narrow her eyes back at the man. Girlfriend? Harry’s had girlfriends – plural – since he started working in The Stag’s Head? There was a very strange combination of a lot of different feelings that swarmed around Y/N’s body, suddenly making her feel seasick. She was about to abort her mission, to say she would just catch Harry at home, when there came a voice from the door leading out into the smoking area.

“Y/N,” Harry said, turning the lights off outside and closing the door. It looked as if he could not quite believe his eyes as he saw her standing there, like he had not thought she would ever show up to his work like this. Without seemingly able to help himself, his green eyes fell down to her green dress and her exposed legs. He quickly looked to his other co-worker, clearing his throat as he walked behind the pub counter. Y/N could swear she saw a slight pink hue to his cheekbones.

“I’ll leave if you’re busy.”

“No,” Harry said, the word coming out a little too quickly as if desperation got the better of him. “No. Not busy.”

The grey-haired man raised his eyebrows at Harry. He must have seen something in Harry’s demeanour, because he said, “You’ll be alright to close up on your own?”

Harry smiled. “It’ll be a nice way to end my time at Stag’s Head.”

“Nice,” the man Y/N now suspected was Harry’s boss, said. “Pop by with the keys tomorrow, will ya?”

“Yes, sir.”

The man gave both Harry and Y/N a smile each before he started on his walk up to his office. The pub was suddenly very quiet, not a single sound came from inside, just the distant siren outside and the low buzz of the city. A place that was usually bustling with noise, energy, and anticipation, was now left with the latter. Y/N looked around the place, unsure of what to do with herself now that it was only her and Harry there. Harry watched her, picking up the Cif spray from where it stood under the counter. She felt his gaze on her as she walked along the booths, touching the red velvet cushions, a rush of goosebumps travelling up her spine at the knowledge that she had his full attention.

She turned around, leaning her bum against a table as she took in the liquor behind Harry. He was washing the counter, looking over at Y/N again, eyes falling to her mid-area that was expanded slightly at the pressure the surface behind her was providing. He quickly looked away again, biting his lips together as he focused on the counter in front of him. Y/N could not help a small smile.

“What made you show up to my work, then?” he asked.

“Can’t a friend show up to another friend’s work?”

Harry let out a strangled chuckle. “Alright. That’s very nice of you, but I don’t buy that for a single second.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “You don’t?”

“There’s gotta have been another reason as to why.”

“Okay…? What’s that?”

Harry shrugged his shoulder, spraying more Cif onto the counter. “You were bored. You didn’t want to be around your other mates any longer. You wanted to see a delicious man with an irresistible Northern accent clean up a pub since it’s his last shift ever here tonight.”

Y/N let out a laugh, placing her hands on either side of the table beside her. “None of the above.”

“Alright,” Harry said, coming out from behind the pub. “What didn’t I cover?”

“You weren’t at the Uno Society meeting.”

The answer came so effortlessly, as if her subconscious had been holding onto the answer for Y/N until she was strong enough to know the real reason. Her hands instantly gripped the table harder, feeling embarrassed for admitting vulnerability so easily. She blamed how easy it was to talk to him, how he just seemed to throw a lasso around her deepest secrets, her most private desires, and drag them out of her.

Harry looked over at her from where he was cleaning the tables a bit further away in the pub. “Had work. Would’ve been there if I didn’t have to be here.”

She nodded, looking down at her black boots. For some reason, his words warmed something inside her. Hearing someone care about something she cared about made her feel special. Then again, someone she just met on the street could tell her they hated Marmite, something Y/N also did, and she would feel equally as fuzzy inside. Finding small bonds, small preferences, small somethings that connected you to other people, made you feel like you weren’t alone, but it also made you feel special, made you feel seen and understood. It was as if someone opened a door into their soul, and giving you a warm handshake, welcoming you into them and their life.

“The lads had a blast,” Harry said, now closer to Y/N as she had zoned out for a minute and some.

“They did?”

“Yeah, it’s nice to just sit down and relax like that. We don’t really get to do that.”

Y/N watched as Harry hovered by a table, leaning over it to clean it. His black tee shirt stretched over his broad back, his shoulder blades visibly working as he ran the cloth over the table in front of him. The outline of his muscles, the way they were so hard against the soft fabric of the tee shirt, made Y/N’s body feel very hot all of a sudden. He worked so carefully, sliding his hand holding the cloth so slowly over the table, paying it his undivided attention. She adjusted her position against her table, looking away from Harry as he stood back up, his black trousers that had been tight around his buttocks, slacking at the lack of pressure on the material. Get a fucking grip, Y/N screamed at herself in her head, focusing on the wall in front of her. She saw Harry look at her over his shoulder, gaze lingering on her for a few seconds. Y/N suddenly found it very hard to draw a proper breath.

“You’re mad I didn’t show up?” Harry asked.

Y/N was silent, her brain completely blank. “Didn’t show up…?”

She could see his smug smile in her peripheral vision. “Yeah.”

“To what?”

His smile widened and he focused on a table closer to her. “The Uno Society.”

She closed her eyes. Her checking out Harry while he had his back to her had not just made her forget the whole reason why she had showed up to The Stag’s Head in the first place. His body looking the way it did, him caring about the society, him teasing her to get a reaction out of her… Why the fuck did he have that effect on her?

“No,” Y/N said, refusing to look at him still. “I’m not mad.”

“Then why won’t you look at me right now?”

Y/N could feel her hands instinctively grabbing harder onto the table behind her. “No reason.”

“You know,” Harry started, she could hear the smirk in his voice. “You can try all you want, but I still know you.”

She huffed. “You wish.”

“I don’t gotta,” he said, chuckling a little. “Don’t gotta wish when I already do know you. Wish I knew you better, wish you’d just open up to me like you did so easily before, but that’s for a later time.”

That made her look over at Harry, her eyebrows drawn together as she just watched him clean yet another table. He… Did he really think she would one day open up to him again and they would go back to being friends like they used to? Was he really that optimistic? Had he thought about it? About them and their friendship? And what a future with her alongside him at uni would look like? Her eyes landed on his bicep as it flexed, holding his body weight as he leaned against the table again. Her gaze following his arm all the way down to his hand, long slender fingers wrapped around the edge of the table, and the thick veins over the dorsal part of his hand made something in Y/N’s brain short circuit. That along with the casual way he was leaning his hips against the table, staring down at it with his head cocked.

What the fuck, Y/N said to herself again, looking away from him. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?! How was she supposed to stay neutral, to not find him attractive, to not want to sink right back into old habits when she allowed herself to study him and look at him like that. She had to stop. This was getting out of hand.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet tonight,” Harry said, working slowly as he cleaned up the table in the booth beside the one she was stood leaning against.

“No, I’ve just got things on my mind.”

“What things?”

Your broad shoulders. Your hands. The way you stick your tongue out of your mouth when you are concentrating. But Y/N said none of those things, as doing so would sentence her to a lifetime of humiliation.

“Insignificant things.”

“When they’re taking up a lot of space in your head and preventing you from being present, they’re not insignificant,” Harry said, sounding a little serious all of a sudden. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing inherently bad on my mind, just… I’ve got a lot of… thoughts,” Y/N said, not knowing how else to explain it without giving something away.

“What thoughts?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “Thought you did Architectural Studies, didn’t know you also had a degree in being Nosy.”

Harry let out a laugh, coming to stand in front of her with the spray and the cloth in his hands. “I’m very nosy.”

“Glad to hear you’re self-aware.”

“But right now I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Bloody hell, Y/N thought, could he just fucking stop being so nice? So fucking adorable? And fit? It made hating him so much harder than it already was.

“I’m okay.”

He took a step closer. “What’s been on your mind then?”

“Just… life.”

“Has uni exhausted you?”

“Yeah, but it’s not what I’m thinking about.”

Harry took another step closer. Y/N’s palms were suddenly very clammy.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked again, a small smile on his lips as if he was challenging her.

“Maybe you just have to face the fact that I won’t tell you and you can’t figure it out on your own.”

“Nah,” Harry said. “I’ll figure you out.”

Y/N watched as Harry took another step closer, her heart suddenly beating very fast inside her chest.

“I just gotta…” He trailed off, now standing directly in front of her. Tip of his shoes against the tip of hers. Without a warning of sorts, he leaned closer, bending over her until his head hovered beside her own. Chest wavering above hers, touching as she drew in a precipitous breath and he did the same. Their bodies did not brush against one another again, an invisible, burning shield was built to keep them apart the second their upper bodies made contact. As if the universe was telling them that by touching like that, the world would go up in total flames around them.

Harry’s sudden closeness made her breathe in a little too harshly, she was sure he must have heard it but she simply did not care. The reaction her body was having to him being so close was electric, it made all the hairs on her body stand on end. She didn’t know what he was doing that close to her, thinking at first that he must have wanted to whisper something in her ear, to say something to her that would undoubtedly make her glad she was leaning against something solid for support.

But she heard the familiar sound of the Cif spray, and a second later, Harry reached his cloth behind Y/N’s back, cleaning the table. She felt his breath against her neck, triggering something radioactive inside her. The oud aroma of his cologne, with notes of cedar, patchouli, and spicy saffron filled Y/N’s nostrils. In those seconds when Harry hovered above her like that, his warm body inches from hers, breath fanning against her skin, his aroma, and aura mere inches from hers, Y/N was conflicted as to if she wanted time to speed up or slow down some more. She knew that if she stayed like that, with Harry so close to her, for much longer she would go absolutely mad and have an impossible time resisting him if he were to try something like he had done in the living room the week before.

No sooner had she thought that, he pushed off, face lingering just centimetres from hers. “I just need to take a look,” he said, speaking as if he did not mind if the whole world was watching them. He raised his hand, about to touch her chin. For what reason, Y/N did not know, but she didn’t ask any questions. However, he stopped, as if touching her was something he could not do. Y/N was glad he hadn’t, because God knows how her body would have reacted had he tenderly touched her jawline like it looked like he wanted to.

“Take a look?” Y/N mumbled.

“At you.”

A small breath left her lips.

“Maybe the answer to what’s been on your mind is somewhere in your eyes,” he said, eyes suddenly falling to her lips. “Or your lips.” He glanced at her forehead. “Or in the slight lines that appear between your eyebrows when you’re deep in thought.” He looked down at her hands on the table edge. “Or the way you’re gripping the table so tight right now.”

Jesus Christ, she was about to explode. Y/N let go of it immediately, standing up and forcing Harry to take two steps back. His intense glance lingered on her, falling to her lips as she opened her mouth to take a breath.

“It’s getting late,” she said, fingering the hem of her leather jacket as her heart continued to hammer away inside her chest.

“Wait for me, yeah?” Harry walked over to the next table to clean it, doing it way faster than all the other ones. Biting his lip and moving his hand with the cloth over the table as if to make up for time spent on something else, cleaning very slowly and standing too close to her.

“No, I can walk home by myself.”

“I know you’re capable of walking, but I don’t like you being out in the streets all alone late at night.”

Y/N looked over at Harry as he cleaned the last booth, seeing the determination to finish as quickly as possible.

“It’s just across the road,” she said.

“Please just let me walk you across the road, then.” Harry walked behind the bar counter, putting the cleaning supplies away.

“You make me sound like an old lady.”

“Just-“ He appeared from behind the counter. “-Wait.” He then disappeared into the backroom where he only stayed for a few seconds. Y/N would have thought that since he enjoyed working at The Stag’s Head, he would have at least lingered for a few moments to take in the last time he would ever be back there. But instead, he emerged wearing his coat, locking the door behind him, mere seconds later. He turned the lights off, and, walking over to where Y/N was standing, placed a gentle hand to her lower back, guiding her in the direction of the door that she could only barely make out in the dark. Goosebumps instantly ran up Y/N’s back and she inhaled at the pressure of Harry’s hand on her body. He held the door open for her and Y/N stepped outside, watching as Harry locked the front doors to The Stag’s Head for the very last time.

He looked around them after locking the door, checking up and down the three streets that came to a crossroad just outside the pub. Once his eyes finally met Y/N’s again he gave her the smallest smile, then motioned for her to lead the way back to their flat. She wanted to roll her eyes, but she could not find it in herself to do just that in that moment. Though it was just across the road, she very much appreciated Harry’s company back to their flat. Distance was nothing when the roads were dark and the faces of the figures walking past were left blurred by the dim streetlamps.

Harry held the door for Y/N once again, letting her be the first to enter the building. She strolled upstairs, unlocking their front door and watching as Harry gestured for her to walk on inside. The flat was dark, except for the warm yellow lights Nathan had twined around the railing of their terrace and the changing colours of the luminous Christmas tree in the living room. The kitchen was usually left in darkness, as was the rest of the flat, but since their eyes were used to night outside, it wasn’t hard to navigate their way to the stairs. They took their jackets off, and without her leather jacket on, Y/N was very aware of how much of her skin was exposed to Harry. Her dress showed off her legs, arms, and parts of her back to him, and she knew that, if he walked behind her up the stairs, he would get a good look at her bum.

She took her boots off and started up the stairs with her purse in her hand, hearing Harry make his way up them as well. If any man were to walk behind her up the stairs, Harry was one she trusted not to take the mick, to not look up her skirt and make her feel uncomfortable. But… after everything… she still didn’t want him to see her knickers. However, facing her door, she heard Harry walking up the stairs. Taking a deep breath, she turned around to face him once he reached the first floor. What happened next happened so suddenly that Y/N barely managed to wrap her head around it before the moment was gone.

She had just turned around to face Harry when he walked up over to her. Taking a step back at the sudden closeness, she felt herself breathe in sharply as Harry’s face lingered only centimetres from her own again. Though the person standing in front of her was a man, a completely different person, something inside her brain took her back to that night when they were 16. He hadn’t been this close to her since then, had not touched her or looked at her like this since then. His eyes flicked down to her lips, and then to meet hers, wet lips parting as if the anticipation was killing him.

And Y/N had to painfully admit, it was killing her, too. As much as she had tried to fight it, it was impossible to now. She wanted Harry to kiss her. Not tenderly kiss her like you would peck a person you were in love with, or to gently rub his thumb over her cheek as a show of affection, or to hug her tight when they met up for lunch. No, she wanted him to fucking kiss her. She wanted him to grab her face and kiss her hard; desperately, needily. She wanted them to fumble to take each other’s clothes off, and for him to make up for how bad that first time together was. There was absolutely no denying it, Y/N wanted Harry. She really wanted him. All these months, all those moments spent trying to push the thought away, she simply could not anymore. There was a hunger inside her for him, but only in the sexual sense. She could never fall in love with this man, she just wanted to fuck him. And she wanted to fuck him bad.

Her own lips parted, and she looked into his eyes with an expression she hoped he could read, because she needed him to understand. Once again, Harry raised his hand, hovering between them as if he were unsure what to do with it. Fingers twitching, she could see he was conflicted, whether he should touch her cheek as it looked like he wanted to, or if he should stop himself. Y/N let her eyes fall to his hand, to tell him she wanted him to touch her. She wanted to feel him somewhere, anywhere on her. Just looking at him, she could see he wanted the same as her. He wanted to feel her body, to explore it in a completely different way to last time.

Harry’s hand fell out of view, and just as Y/N thought he was going to let it hang limply, uselessly, at his side, she felt something on her waist. A warm pressure, snaking around the black linen of her dress. She waited for him to pull her closer to him, for their torsos to connect, but it never happened.

“Y/N,” Harry whispered, eyes falling to her lips again.

She did not answer, instead just tilted her head so it would be easier for him to kiss her. With her eyelids hanging low over her eyes, her body language not showing any sign of protesting, and with her lips parted, Y/N hoped the message was coming across clearly. Harry leaned in closer, his nose almost touching hers. Her heart was beating so fast and hard it hurt. Her hands were clammy. All her attention focused on Harry and the electricity they created on that spot where his hand rested. He leaned down, lips hovering just over the crook of her neck, making her close her eyes. Breath against the hair of her shoulder, lightning shooting up Y/N’s back. He slowly leaned back out again, nose hovering beside hers. The anticipation was absolutely killing her.

“I…” But he drifted off, eyes falling to her lips again. She could feel his breath on her mouth, could smell his cologne. The tension was making her dizzy, she just wanted him to bloody kiss her already.

She was just about to do it herself when she felt his warm hand drop off her waist. She blinked, and the next second, Harry took a step back. He only looked at her, mouth working as if he was trying to find the right words to say, but there were none. So, as if blinking himself awake from a sort of dream, he took another step back. Suddenly, he opened the door into his room. He stopped in the doorway, looking back at Y/N. Again, he tried to say something that must have died on the tip of his tongue, because again, he did not utter a word. It looked like he physically could not say them out loud. Instead, he closed the door, leaving Y/N standing alone out in the dark hallway.

Y/N’s eyes rested on the door to the bathroom, trying to go over in her head where it had just happened. Had… Had Harry just walked away just now? Had he teased her in the pub, then done almost the same just now, only to walk away? What had gone wrong? Why had he not kissed her? What had made him step away? What had made him stop? Y/N could not answer a single one of the questions, and she doubted Harry would give her any. She closed her eyes, resting her head against her door behind her. This was exactly why she had not wanted to live with Harry, this was why she had not given in to his charms and flirts before. Now, because of what had just happened, because of how awkward that had just been, they were back to square one. Just living under the same roof as him infuriated her. She could not fucking stand Harry Styles.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 4th April, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🏛️ @aileenacoustic 🏛️ @devil-in-bw-the-sheets 🏛️ @sunflowerstache 🏛️ @fromyourstrulyh 🏛️

FIC PAGE | COME TALK !!!

READ TWO CHAPTERS AHEAD ON PATREON | CHECK OUT THE OTHER FIVE EXCLUSIVE PATREON STORIES HERE!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #1dff #:DDDDDDDD PLS COME CHAT ILY ILY ILY :DDDDDDDDD

184 notes · View notes

buckybarnesdollface · 4 years

Text

Therapy

Being the in-house psychiatrist at the Avengers compound was no easy job.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved the people I worked with. The Avengers were some of the greatest people you could hope to meet, and for the most part they made me feel right at home when I’d moved in. Tony told me that if I ever wanted or needed anything that all I had to do was ask and he’d get it for me. Steve was the older brother I never had but had always wanted. Wanda always made the best dinners, and Peter always kept me up-to-date with what was going on in the world. Even though I wasn’t supposed to mix my business with my personal life, they all made it impossible. Every one of them was so friendly and kind that I quickly became both their therapist and their friend.

Every one but one, that is. There was one surly supersoldier who refused treatment and always gave me the cold shoulder anytime we were in a room together.

At first, I hadn’t let it bother me. I knew better than anyone that you couldn’t force someone into therapy if they weren’t comfortable. And I knew enough of Bucky Barnes’ past to know that he had every reason to be guarded around new people. But after months of being at the compound he was still doing everything he could to keep his distance from me, and I was determined to figure out why.

I had gone to Steve first. Bucky was friendly with a few people at the compound but Steve was the one he had known his whole life, the only one close enough he could be considered family. Steve had assured me that Bucky was just nervous around new people and that he’d come around eventually, but I wasn’t convinced. It had been four months now and the man was still avoiding me like the plague.

After one particular mission in Germany that had gone terribly wrong, Bucky withdrew even more than he usually did. In one of my sessions with Steve I learned that Bucky blamed himself for what had happened. Despite his frosty attitude towards me, I felt bad for the guy – He was already carrying so much guilt on his shoulders, he didn’t need anything else weighing him down.

Sam had tried to convince him to see me. “She’s really good at what she does, man,” he told him while we were in the common room one day. “One session with her and you’ll feel like a weight has been lifted off your chest.”

I held my breath, but Bucky scowled and shook his head. “I’ve already had enough people messing with my head for one lifetime,” he growled. “I’m fine, I don’t need a fucking therapist.”

With that he stalked out of the room, leaving Sam with widened eyes and me with my nostrils flared. I wanted to go after him and tell him that therapists cleaned up messes, not made them, but I knew it was pointless. The man was stubborn as hell, and the last thing I wanted was to pick a fight with the Winter Soldier.

For the next few weeks, I went on with my own day-to-day business and tried not to let James Buchanan Barnes cross my mind. It was fairly easy – Tony kept him busy on missions, and I was busy with my own job.

Probably the worst part of my job was that because I spent my days listening to the traumas of others, by the time night came my mind was so full that I had a hard time falling asleep. Normally I just read a book until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, but tonight it was two in the morning and I was still wide awake. Sighing, I got out of bed and pulled a robe on over my pyjamas before making my way down to the kitchen.

The compound at night was an entirely different atmosphere than it was in daylight. During the day it was bustling with life, whether someone was training or preparing for a mission or just hanging out. Now, though, the silence was overwhelming. Everything was dark and there was no movement, and it felt strange disturbing the peace.

I didn’t even bother turning on the lights when I got to the kitchen – The appliances were all new technology and had LED screens, bathing the room in a bluish-green glow. I went straight for the large freezer and opened it up, relieved that the ice cream I’d bought the other day was still there. I grabbed the carton and a spoon from the drawer, and settled myself in one of the stools along the large marble island to enjoy my late-night snack.

I had only taken a few bites of my ice cream when I could hear the sound of bare feet on tile. I hadn’t expected anyone else to be awake right now, but then again none of the Avengers really had a normal sleep schedule. I sat up, prepared to engage in conversation with whoever walked through the door, but froze when I saw who it was.

Bucky walked in, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His hair was damp, like he’d just gotten out of the shower, and I realized he had probably just gotten back from the mission he’d been on in Iceland. I kept still – He hadn’t noticed me, and with any luck he would get what he came for and leave. However, when he opened the fridge door to pull out the carton of orange juice he turned before the door swung shut and I was lit up in the light. Bucky jumped, nearly dropping the juice, and then he glared at me.

“Jesus Christ,” he snarled, “are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“I wasn’t doing anything but sitting here,” I defended. “Besides, shouldn’t the Winter Soldier be harder to startle than that?”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, and I pursed my lips.

“I’m sorry, James. That was insensitive of me.”

“It’s Bucky. Just call me Bucky.”

He turned to the cupboard to get a glass and then poured some of the orange juice into it before returning the carton to the fridge.

“What’re you doing sitting down here in the dark, anyway?” he grumbled, flicking on the light over the stove. It wasn’t bright but it was enough to fill the kitchen with a warm glow, and enough for me to take note of the dark circles under his blue eyes.

“You don’t like the dark?” I asked, and Bucky turned away from me.

“I’ve spent too much time in the dark.”

A pang went through my chest, and I bit my lip. He still hadn’t turned towards me, and I couldn’t help how my eyes were drawn to his metal arm. I’d seen the arm before, of course – The Wakandans had done an incredible job in crafting the vibranium limb. What they hadn’t been able to do, however, was fix the scarring along his shoulder where HYDRA had messily attached the first metal arm. The scar tissue was still pink and the skin was bumpy and uneven, even decades later. I wondered if it still hurt; it certainly looked painful.

“You’re staring.”

I was pulled from my thoughts and I blushed crimson. “What? How –”

“I can see your reflection in the window,” Bucky replied, and my blush deepened. I ducked my head and mumbled an apology. He downed the rest of his orange juice and then poured himself another glass. “What are you doing up so late, anyway?” he asked me. The question caught me off-guard; he had never attempted to make small talk with me before.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I finally answered. “Too much on my mind.”

Bucky nodded. “I know the feeling.”

“What about you? Didn’t you just get back from Iceland? You must be tired.”

The muscle in his jaw tightened, and for a minute I thought he wasn’t going to say anything. “Nightmares,” he finally mumbled, staring at his juice. “Wasn’t asleep for very long. Figured I’d shower and pass out, but my mind had other plans. So I came down here to get a drink.”

This was the most he had ever spoken to me in the months that I had known him. Not wanting to push my luck, I hesitated before saying, “If you ever need to talk, you can always come to me. That’s what I’m here for.”

Bucky’s face hardened and he shook his head. “I don’t want a therapist.”

“Then I won’t be your therapist,” I said softly. “Talk to me as a friend. It will be off-record, just one person to another. Would that make it any easier?”

I thought maybe I had pushed too far because he was silent for a handful of seconds, but then he shook his head and gave me what could only be seen as a sad half-smile.

“Friends aren’t exactly my strong suit,” he told me. “I’m not the friendliest person out there.”

I shrugged. “I’ve come across pricklier people than you.”

“And how do I know you won’t be analyzing me the whole time?”

“Just because I’m a psychiatrist doesn’t mean that my profession plays a part in my personal life,” I told him. “I don’t go around psychoanalyzing every interaction I have with someone.”

Bucky cocked one dark eyebrow. “So you haven’t been analyzing every little detail trying to figure out why you haven’t been able to find out what makes me tick?”

My cheeks grew hot, and Bucky nodded.

“That’s what I thought.”

“To be fair,” I defended, “you have been avoiding me for no apparent reason. Obviously I’m going to wonder why.”

It was Bucky’s turn to look uncomfortable, and he lifted a hand to run it through his shoulder-length dark hair. I couldn’t help but notice the way the muscles in his stomach stretched when he did that, and I swallowed hard and looked away.

“You make me nervous,” he finally admitted, in a voice so quiet that had the compound not been so silent I likely wouldn’t have heard him. My eyes widened slightly at his words, and I shook my head.

“I make you nervous?” I repeated in disbelief. “How? You’re a supersoldier and I’m just…Well, I’m just me.”

I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. The man was one of the most dangerous men in the world not long ago, and I was just a normal human being – And a clumsy, unathletic one at that. Nothing about me should have been intimidating to him.

“You’re scary good at reading people,” he explained, his cheeks pink and a pained look on his face. “I’m always afraid if you pay too much attention to me, you’ll see something you don’t like and you’ll look at me like a monster.”

He looked so sad, and the psychiatrist in me wanted to push him to talk about what was upsetting him. The human in me wanted to hug him and tell him that I could never see him as a monster. But of course, I did neither of those things. Instead, I blinked and said, “Why would it matter to you what I thought of you?”

The pink in Bucky’s cheeks darkened, and he ducked his head. Instead of answering me, he changed the subject.

“What are you eating, anyway? That’s the most colourful ice cream I’ve ever seen.”

I glanced down at my tub of ice cream, having completely forgotten about it. It was half-melted by now.

“It’s called Moon Mist,” I explained. “They only sell it where I’m from in eastern Canada. I asked Tony if there was any way we could get some here. It reminds me of home.”

I bit my lip, and Bucky frowned. “You miss it there?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Sometimes, yeah. I like it here, though.”

“How did a nice girl from Canada end up at the Avengers compound?”

I chuckled. “I’m not sure, lucked out I guess,” I replied. “Saw a job posting online that just said ‘located in New York, must be willing to work with clients that are highly confidential.’ I looked into it, went through three rounds of interviews, and ended up here.”

Bucky nodded. “Well it certainly suits you here,” he said. “I always hear how glad everyone is that you’re here.”

“And you?” I asked softly.

He lifted a hand to rub the back of his head. “I never meant to make you feel like I didn’t want you here, doll,” he murmured apologetically. “I’m sorry that’s how it came off.”

I should have had some witty reply, but instead my mind was fixed on the way he had called me “doll.” It had rolled off his tongue so naturally, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t liked it. I bit the inside of my cheek before speaking.

“You never answered my question,” I pointed out. “Why does it matter so much what I think of you?”

When he let out a short laugh, it surprised me. “For someone so good at reading people,” he said, “you really can’t read this situation, can you?”

I frowned. “That’s not fair. Most people aren’t as good at shutting people out as you are.”

“Now that’s not fair,” he said softly, and I cringed. For someone professionally trained to be in tune with people’s emotions, I sure was doing a good job of putting my foot in my mouth tonight. I couldn’t help it, though; this man had me a mess.

“I’ve never disliked you, (Y/N),” he finally said. “Hell, I couldn’t dislike you even if I tried. But it was just always easier to pretend I did than face the truth.”

“And what’s the truth?” I asked in a small voice. All of a sudden, I was feeling light-headed, and I couldn’t explain why.

Instead of answering right away, he lifted his hand to once again rub the back of his head – Something that was clearly his tell for when he was nervous. He opened his mouth only to close it again, and then he pursed his lips as if he were frustrated. I slid off the barstool and walked around the island, setting a hand on his flesh arm hesitantly in an attempt to soothe him. His skin was hot – a side effect of the supersoldier serum, I had learned from Steve – but he pulled away from my touch almost instantly.

I let my hand fall to my side limply, and he threw me an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry, doll,” he said quietly. “It’s just…it’s been a long time since I’ve had human contact. I didn’t mean to withdraw like that.”

I shook my head. “Don’t apologize,” I murmured. “I understand. I don’t want to overstep any boundaries.”

“I want to be a different person,” he told me, frustration lacing his tone. “A better person. I don’t want to be this surly, untrusting guy. I don’t want my fucked-up head fucking up anyone else. That’s why I typically just stay away from people.”

As a professional, it was my job to let people talk and then help guide them towards a solution to their problems. There was no room for pity or babying or even too much sympathy in my line of work. I was there to listen and guide, not comfort. But I was off-duty right now, and it was very clear that Bucky Barnes was in need of a genuine human connection rather than therapy. I bit my lip.

“So is that why you pushed me away?” I asked, and he swallowed hard.

“You’re so good,” he whispered. “You spend too much time around me and I’ll just end up taking your light away. I could never do that to you. I’d never forgive myself.”

“I spend every day listening to other people’s traumas,” I argued. “I’m not fragile, Bucky. I can handle a lot of shit.”

He shook his head. “You don’t get it. There’s no one in this world more fucked up than me. You’d do best to stay away from me.”

In anyone else, I would have labelled this as self-pity. But knowing Bucky’s background, knowing that for decades he had been dehumanized and trained to believe he was nothing more than a weapon for HYDRA, and then having to carry the burden of what he’d been made to do even after Steve had freed him from their hold, told me that this went much deeper than self-pity. This man truly believed that he was only capable of bringing darkness into the lives of those around him.

“Is that what you want?” I finally asked him in a quiet voice. “Do you want me to stay away from you? Because I can very easily pretend we’re strangers if that’s what you want.”

There was conflict in those deep blue eyes of his, mixed with pain. Finally he shook his head.

“Of course it’s not what I want,” he said in exasperation, “but I don’t want to hurt you or disappoint you.”

“I’m a big girl,” I assured him with the ghost of a smile. “I can handle myself.”

“But can you handle me?”

It was meant as an innocent question, and now was not the time for my mind to go where it did, but nonetheless I bit my lip and looked up to meet his eyes. He was already watching me, his face guarded, but when I reached out to take his flesh hand into mine he let me, even lacing our fingers together. He was still tense, his muscles taut and his bare chest rising and falling heavily with each breath, but I gave him a reassuring smile.

“I have no doubt that I can,” I murmured, answering his question, “but why don’t we find out, Sergeant?”

For a minute, Bucky looked as if he didn’t quite understand me, but then his eyes widened quickly before narrowing.

“(Y/N)…” he murmured. “I can’t…”

I thought maybe I had misinterpreted what was going on, but his dilated pupils told me otherwise. I squeezed his hand and gave him another reassuring smile.

“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky. I’m telling you it’s okay. What other reassurance do you need?”

He bit his lip, once again conflicted. “I don’t want you to do this just out of pity.”

I gave him a disparaging look. “Do you really think that little of me?” I accused teasingly, and he blushed.

“I just…I really care about you, (Y/N),” he whispered. “But I only want to do this if it’s what you want.”

My heart melted. He was such a sweetheart; I wished I could take away all the pain he felt. Tugging my hand away from his, I lifted my arms to press my palms against either side of his face to force him to look at me. He was frowning, but his pupils were still blown.

“There isn’t anyone else I’d rather have in this kitchen with me right now,” I murmured fiercely. “Now are you going to kiss me, Sergeant, or do I have to do everything myself?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, but he leaned in to press his lips hesitantly to mine. His lips were warm and surprisingly soft, and my hands slipped from his face to wrap around his neck and pull him closer to me. He was still hesitant, his lips soft against mine, but when I probed my tongue against them he opened his mouth and deepened the kiss. All of a sudden, his hands were on my waist and he was backing me up until I was pressed against the island. His kiss became hungry, and all too soon I was breaking away to catch my breath.

“Was that okay?” he asked, eying me nervously, and I let out a soft chuckle.

“It was more than okay,” I breathed. “Was it okay for you?”

I worried that maybe we were taking this too fast. Not ten minutes ago he had been flinching at physical contact. But he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded. “I’d like to do it again,” he murmured, “if that’s alright with you.”

I only nodded, and Bucky took my face gently in his hands to tilt it up towards his. He pressed a light kiss to my lips first, before slowly applying more pressure while his thumbs brushed along my cheekbones. The contrast between the heat of his skin and the chill of the vibranium sent shivers through me, and my hands found the hard muscles of his abdomen. He trembled at my touch, and I couldn’t help but smile against his lips.

Bucky pulled away, his chest rising and falling heavily. “As much as I’d love to take you right here, doll,” he breathed, “I don’t think the rest of the house would appreciate that too much. What d’you say we take this somewhere more private?”

His words had my entire body trembling in anticipation, and the next thing I knew his hands were under my thighs and he was lifting me up into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist and reconnected our kiss, and we abandoned the kitchen for the elevator.

“My floor, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Bucky said to the AI system as the elevator doors closed behind us.

“Right away, Sergeant Barnes,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied, and the elevator started its way up. Still in his arms, my back was pressed to the wall as Bucky kissed me hard, confidence taking the place of caution.

When the elevator reached Bucky’s floor he stumbled out, lips still attached to mine. The only other person on this floor was Steve, and he would have fallen asleep hours ago. Bucky walked me down the hall to his room and turned the doorknob, closing and locking the door behind us once we were inside.

I had never seen Bucky’s room before, and honestly, I had never thought I would. It was sparsely furnished – A king-sized bed with a gray comforter, an end table, a dresser and a small desk with a swivel chair were all that filled the space. The only indicators that the room was even occupied were a couple of framed photographs and a leather jacket hanging from the back of the chair. It made me sad that the room was so empty, but my thoughts were quickly replaced by the feel of Bucky’s lips trailing down my jaw to my neck. I let out a soft breath when his teeth grazed against the skin of my throat and his hands went to the ties of my robe. He hesitated, as if waiting for my permission, and I nodded.

“Go ahead,” I murmured, and he pulled at the loose knot I’d made, and the robe fell open to reveal the satin tank top and shorts I had on underneath. Bucky’s eyes widened slightly, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he drank me in.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he finally breathed quietly, and I felt my cheeks get hot. He pulled me back to him, reconnecting our kiss as he slid the robe from my shoulders. It fell to the floor, and then he was backing me up against the door. He nudged a leg between mine and pressed a thick thigh against my core, and the moan I let out was purely sinful. Immediately embarrassed, I tried to duck my head, but Bucky reached up with his right hand to take a gentle hold of my chin.

“You like that?” he murmured, and I nodded meekly. He pressed against me harder and I bit my lip, squeezing my eyes shut. The muscles of his thigh were taut underneath me, and I shifted, craving friction. Bucky smirked, and then he was carrying me over to the bed. He sat on the edge and sat me in his lap, straddling one of his thighs. With his hands on my hips he began to gently rock me against him, back and forth. It didn’t take long for a coil to wind its way up inside me, and my hands gripped his arms tightly as whimpers escaped my lips.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, doll, I just know it.” Bucky lifted me up and then in one swift move I was on my back on the mattress and he was above me. His hands pushed up the hem of my shirt to slowly expose my stomach, the contrast of cool and warm having me squirming underneath him. His lips trailed along my skin behind the path his hands left, and when he freed my breasts from the satin, he let out a soft groan.

“So perfect,” he murmured before pressing a soft kiss to the valley between them. He took his time peppering kisses all around them before he finally wrapped his lips around a nipple and sucked lightly. My back arched and I let out a low moan, and Bucky took the opportunity to slide his left arm under me to pull me closer while his free hand moved to pinch my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I squirmed underneath him, and when he pulled away he pressed a quick kiss to my lips before pulling the shirt right over my head and tossing it to the floor.

His hand traced down my body, leaving goosebumps along my bare skin, his eyes not once leaving mine. When he reached my hips, his fingers toyed with the waistband of my shorts until I started to grow impatient.

“Take them off,” I huffed, and with dark eyes he tugged them and my underwear from my hips in one swift pull, leaving them discarded on the floor with my shirt and robe. I was now completely bared to him and I started to feel self-conscious until he was above me again, dizzying me with a searing kiss. His lips left a trail down the length of my body, and the lower he got the hotter I could feel myself getting. I wiggled my hips in anticipation but he threw an arm across my stomach to keep me still before pressing a couple of chaste kisses to the inside of my thigh.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked quietly. All I could do was nod my head, the desire too thick in my throat to form coherent words. That, however, wasn’t good enough for him. “Words, doll. I need to hear you say it.”

“I want you,” I keened, too tightly-wound to even care that I sounded desperate. With a soft smile, Bucky pressed another kiss to my thigh before he pressed his lips lightly to my core. I let out a sharp breath and tried to buck my hips up but his arm was still holding me down firmly, and this time he skimmed his nose along my slit before his lips found my bud. He kissed it gently before sucking it into his mouth and I let out an obscene moan, my hands going to tangle in his long hair to hold him there. This must have spurred him on because he growled and went at it with new vigor. I would have never guessed that Bucky Barnes had such a sinful mouth, but he had me coming undone in a matter of a couple of minutes. He was still going until I had to push his head away from me, and he chuckled before placing a few soft kisses to the inside of my thigh as I came down from my high.

I laid on the mattress and stared at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath. Bucky crawled up the bed and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. I tilted my head to catch his lips with mine. I could taste myself on his tongue and it sent a fresh wave of heat through my body.

“You have too many clothes on,” I mumbled against his lips, and then before he could say anything, I had rolled out from under him and pushed him onto his back in the pillows, straddling his hips. His eyes widened, and even I was a little surprised – The Winter Soldier had probably never been so easily caught off-guard and out-manoeuvred before, especially not by a girl. He grinned up at me, though, his hands coming up to rest on my hips.

“That was impressive,” he breathed, and I winked at him before grinding myself softly against him.

“You think that was impressive,” I said as he grunted, “then you’re in for a treat.”

I let him rock me against him for a minute. It was difficult to stop – He was solid underneath me and I could work myself to a second orgasm just doing this. But it was my turn to dote on him, so I leaned in to press my lips to his, my hands flat on his chest.

I pulled away to nuzzle my face into his neck, and then I slid down to press my lips lightly to the scar tissue where metal met flesh. He trembled and I looked up at him.

“Does it hurt?” I asked, and he shook his head.

“Not usually,” he replied. “Once in awhile I’ll get phantom pains, but it’s just the reminder more than anything that’s hard to deal with.”

I nodded, and then let my fingertips slide over the cool vibranium of his arm. I watched for his reaction as I did so – His eyes burned with desire but there was still caution in the depths of his blue irises.

“So how does it work?” I murmured, my fingertips moving to trace over his palm. “Can you feel this?”

“I can feel everything,” he told me, “just as well as if it were my own hand. I’d thought my first arm was advanced, but Shuri’s knowledge of technology is incomparable.”

“So you can feel this,” I said, and then I lifted the metal hand to suck his index finger into my mouth, my tongue swirling around the digit while my eyes never left his. I was still straddling his lap and I could feel his erection twitch in his sweatpants.

“Fuck, doll,” he groaned. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

I let my mouth make a popping sound as I pulled away, and then smirked before I was sliding down his body and tugging his sweatpants from his hips. His erection sprang free from its confines, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from widening slightly – I had expected him to be bigger, but seeing it at its full glory I wondered briefly if it was even going to fit.

Nonetheless, I took him into my hand and swiped my thumb over the tip, and when he let out a hiss, a fresh wave of heat made its way to my core and I knew he would have no trouble fitting. I traced my tongue along the length of his shaft before taking him into my mouth. Bucky let out a loud moan, and wanting to hear more I bobbed my head up and down along his length. I couldn’t take all of him – He was too large, so I had to use a combination of my mouth and my hands, but it seemed to be working just fine for him. After only a couple of minutes, though, he was tucking a hand under my chin and lifting my head up.

“You gotta stop, doll,” he said, his voice husky, “or I’m gonna come way too fast. As good as that felt, I can only imagine how much better the real thing will be.”

In a move that he made look much easier than it should have been, he flipped me over onto my back and was on top of me all within mere seconds. He held himself up, his eyes intense as he looked down at me.

“You sure this is what you want?” he murmured, and it made me sad that even after all that he still doubted this. I reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear, my fingers brushing against his cheek. I gave him a warm smile, and then winked.

“We were supposed to find out if I could handle you, weren’t we?” I teased. “Do your worst, Sergeant.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed, and with a growl he lined himself up with my entrance. He slid in slowly, pushing all the way in in one thrust, and we both let out long moans as he filled me up and stretched me out in ways I had never been before. He gave me a minute to adjust to his size, and then he pulled out of me slowly before thrusting back in. He started out with a gentle pace, but I knew he was only being careful because he was scared he was going to hurt me.

“Bucky,” I breathed. “I’m not made of glass. Move. I wanna be able to feel this tomorrow when I wake up.”

Just like that his eyes darkened until they were practically two pools of ink, and when he pulled out this time he pushed back in with more force. I let out a sharp gasp and my fingers gripped his waist tighter, nails biting into skin. As his thrusts became harder his pace picked up and he buried his face against my neck to graze the skin with his teeth.

It didn’t take long for my second orgasm to creep up on me, but just as I thought it was about to hit Bucky’s arms wound around me, and while still inside of me he flipped us over so that I was on top. Breathless, I looked down at him with wide eyes but he only smirked before thrusting up into me hard. From this new angle he was hitting places he hadn’t before, and I cried out. Within a couple of minutes, the coil inside me had returned and I couldn’t hold it much longer.

“Bucky…” I whined. “Buck, I’m so close…”

His hands tightened on my hips. “Let go, doll. I’m right behind you,” he murmured, and that was all it took to have me coming undone. Seconds later, Bucky reached his release. Even though I hadn’t yet come down from my own high, I forced my eyes open so I could see him; his eyes were closed and his head fell back into the pillows, a low moan escaping his lips as I felt him spill his seed inside me. He looked absolutely breathtaking underneath me, and for a minute all I could do was sit in awe on top of him as we both recovered. When our breathing evened Bucky opened his eyes, and I gave him a shy smile.

“I think I handled you pretty well,” I teased quietly, and for a moment Bucky was silent as he regarded me with an unreadable expression. Finally, he reached up to tuck a loose, damp curl behind my ear and out of my face.

“I’d say,” he murmured. “You’re perfect, (Y/N).”

I blushed, ducking my head. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

“No, I mean it. I…Wow.” He shook his head, and all of a sudden looked sad. “You really do deserve better than me.”

I glared at him, and then swatted his chest only half-playfully. “Stop it,” I ordered. “Any girl would be lucky to have you, Buck. Especially after that. Jesus.”

“I don’t want just any girl,” he mumbled, meeting my eyes. I felt my chest get warm, and I leaned in to press my lips softly to his. He responded by wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me until we were chest to chest, the kiss lingering a few more seconds before we broke apart.

“This girl is yours,” I told him, “as long as you want me to be.”

“Of course I want you to be,” he replied in a murmur, his eyes soft. “That’s all I’ve wanted since I met you, (Y/N). You have no idea how happy I am right now.”

“I think I have some idea,” I chuckled wryly, and then I rolled off of him to curl up against his side. We fell asleep like that, and the next morning I woke up with my back pressed against a warm body and a strong arm holding me close. I had expected the morning after to be a little awkward, but instead it just felt right. When we finally got out of bed to head down to the kitchen for some food it was nearly noon, and we hoped no one was around to see us coming out of Bucky’s room together. However, we had no such luck – Steve was leaving his room just as we stepped out the door.

I held my breath and Bucky tensed, but Steve only froze for half a second before a wide grin spread across his face.

“About time,” he breathed, and then he winked before gesturing to the kitchen. “I was about to go make some bacon and eggs.” He made his way towards the elevator, and without looking over his shoulder he called out, “I have a feeling the two of you have worked up quite the appetite, if what I heard last night was any indication.”

I blushed crimson, horrified, but Bucky only grinned ruefully before pulling me to his side and kissing the crown of my head. “You hungry, doll?” he murmured. “I know I am.”

“I guess I could go for some bacon and eggs,” I agreed finally, and then Bucky pulled me into the elevator behind Steve, who was still grinning like an idiot.

Life at the compound was about to get very interesting.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader smut #bucky reader #bucky barnes smut #james buchanan barnes #marvel #mcu #smut #bucky x reader

361 notes · View notes

tabloidtoc · 3 years

Text

National Enquirer, November 16

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Jeffrey Epstein’s madam Ghislaine Maxwell’s nights with Prince Andrew and teen Virginia Roberts Giuffre

Page 2: Brad Pitt kicked married galpal Nicole Poturalski to the curb after getting flak from his ex Angelina Jolie -- Brad’s relationship with Nicole hit the skids after Brad decided he needed to shore up his image during his ongoing custody battle with Angie and his focus right now is to get his dad image back on track and give Angie no more ammo to fling back at him

Page 3: Tiger Woods’ romance with Erica Herman has gone off course over legal troubles and wedding pressure and bickering over where to live and Tiger is so fed up he’s considering ditching his nagging girlfriend in Florida and moving back to his native California -- Erica’s been pressuring him to put a ring on it ever since she moved into his Jupiter Island mansion and that’s something he just won’t do and she’s already taken over his household buying new furniture and remodeling the master bath and building a new closet and hiring a gourmet chef -- California is looking better and better to Tiger who only moved to Florida to play on its tough Bermuda grass which helped improve his swing but now Tiger’s ex Elin lives in Florida with their two kids

Page 4: Miranda Lambert is scoffing at ex Blake Shelton’s newly announced engagement to Gwen Stefani and she’s convinced Blake’s third walk down the aisle has failure written all over it because she thinks Blake’s bad to the bone and this marriage will wind up being a total disaster and after the hell Blake put her through Miranda can’t imagine his life with Gwen would be any different, lifelong bachelor Simon Cowell has had a change of heart since his horrific August accident and he’s finally ready to tie the knot with baby mama Lauren Silverman -- after spinal surgery to repair his broken back the entertainment mogul feels lucky to be alive and walking and the one constant in his difficult rehab after surgery has been Lauren and he wants to pay her back with a ring

Page 5: Train-wreck Wendy Williams’ wacky behavior has TV producers scrambling behind the scenes to find her replacement after her unhinged performance on a recent episode of her talk show where she slurred her words and rambled incoherently -- there had been a hope a chatfest helmed by Nick Cannon could be a safety net should the daytime diva who spent a stint in a sober living house last year not be able to continue hosting but plans for that were pushed back after the comic made anti-Semitic rants in a podcast -- they also tried Jerry O’Connell when Wendy was out for three weeks last year but he tanked with viewers -- Wendy’s a mess and it remains to be seen how long producers will be able to put up with her problems before they decide to pull the plug

Page 6: Grey’s Anatomy star Ellen Pompeo hinted that she may be making her final rounds -- Ellen who has starred on the show since 2005 and makes $20 million a year admitted she’s considering slipping out of her scrubs after the current season 17 but her departure could spell the end of the beloved series and show creator Shonda Rhimes has said it’s unlikely the show could continue without her but Ellen has also expressed her desire to spend more time with her husband and their three children

Page 7: Mariah Carey’s brother Morgan blasted her memoir as filled with lies and distortions and he’s considering legal action -- the book called Morgan and sister Alison her ex-brother and ex-sister and Mariah wrote Morgan had a long history of violence and when she was six he slammed their mother into a wall -- Mariah also wrote her siblings and mother were heartless in terms of dealing with her as a human being and once she got famous they started treating her like an ATM with a wig on but Morgan is fighting back and looking to hire a lawyer

Page 8: Reese Witherspoon’s marriage to Jim Toth is in the muck after the stunning collapse of his new business venture and tensions are mounting in the Hollywood power couple’s already troubled union now that the streaming service Quibi crumbled after less than six months leaving content acquisition president Jim out of work while Reese’s star continues to rise and there’s a real balance of power that’s been building up and that’s put a serious strain on the relationship -- living in quarantine added to the stress between them as Reese has been holed up with her two kids with ex Ryan Phillippe Ava and Deacon and her son Tennessee with Jim at the family’s ranch in Malibu

Page 9: Dementia patient Kenny Rogers cut his three adult children out of his $250 million will and now sources fear the late country legend could have been tricked into signing the document -- Kenny left everything to his 16-year-old twins sons with fifth wife Wanda and the will also stated it was his intent to specifically exclude his daughter Carole with his first wife and son Kenny Jr. with third wife and son Christopher with fourth wife and their issue as beneficiaries of his estate -- Kenny Sr. would never disown his own children according to the source especially since the singer’s son Kenny Jr. is incorrectly referred to Kenny Rogers III throughout the will -- the wording is not like Kenny Sr. and something is not right and his older kids are thinking about contesting the will

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Kate McKinnon shot a Saturday Night live skit in NYC, Sophia Bush hit the road in L.A. with her co-pilot pup Maggie, pregnant Jinger Duggar Vuolo in Venice with daughter Felicity, Heidi Klum walking the streets in her native Germany, Snoop Dogg saluted young rappers as he accepted BET’s I Am Hip Hop award

Page 11: Unwitting Jennifer Aniston and Gerard Butler once dabbled in the secret sex cult NXIVM -- the organization masqueraded as a self-help group but in 2017 it was exposed as a pyramid scheme for founder Keith Raniere who forced high-ranking female recruits to become his sex slaves -- in 2010 Jen and Gerry who were dating at the time wound up at one of the introductory seminars but they were turned off by the level of commitment expected and never returned -- they thought it was just a networking opportunity and had no idea what they were getting themselves into, cash-crunched Gwyneth Paltrow is facing hard times like everyone else and is looking to change her free-spending ways -- the belt-tightening caused by the coronavirus pandemic has even hit her lifestyle empire Goop causing her to shut down the London branch and make hard choices for the future -- Gwyneth may be worth $100 million but she and husband Brad Falchuk spend money like it’s going out of style on private jets they use on a whim and they own a fleet of fancy cars and pay steep salaries for staff who are at their beck and call 24/7 and it’s all draining their bank accounts -- they’re looking at making cuts across the board from personal trainers and chefs and drivers to the masseurs and beauticians who come to their house several times a week -- plus the couple believe it’s a bad look for them to be living so high on the hog when the rest of the world is suffering during the pandemic

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Angelina Jolie spent years developing her own version of the Hollywood classic Cleopatra and now she’s livid that Gal Gadot has stolen the Egyptian queen -- Angie’s dream was to play Cleopatra the role that made Elizabeth Taylor an icon and it was to be the part that won Angie an Academy Award for Best Actress and now that’s over thanks to Gal who will be playing the Queen of the Nile instead, after ABC scrapped plans to honor Regis Philbin with a prime-time tribute Jimmy Kimmel insisted on honoring Regis on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?, MSNBC talking head Rachel Maddow is fleeing New York for her Massachusetts farm after hanging a $2.3 million price tag on her NYC pad but Rachel didn’t want potential buyers looking through all the personal stuff at her apartment so all the personal pictures and books and clothing and everything else was shipped out and replaced with staged furniture, Ariel Winter and her dog (picture)

Page 13: Ailing Joni Mitchell opened up about how she’s still struggling to get back to her old self five years after a debilitating brain bleed -- after Joni was found unresponsive in her Bel-Air home in 2015 she said she was forced to relearn everyday tasks because the aneurysm took away her speech and her ability to walk and although she’s showing slow improvement she hasn’t been writing or playing the guitar or the piano, Randy Travis is defying all the odds as he plans the greatest comeback in country music history as he is making amazing progress after suffering a massive 2013 stroke that most believed would end his career forever and he was given just 1% chance of survival and even after he pulled through doctors believed he would be bedridden and unable to speak -- instead his grueling rehab efforts have miraculously put him on the road to realizing his dream of returning to the spotlight -- some of his motivation is financial; last year he sold his Nashville home and released his memoir which was fueled by his need to pay medical expenses after years of not being able to perform

Page 14: Hollywood Hookups -- Channing Tatum and Jessie J have split again, Cole Sprouse and Reina Silva dating, Kate Beckinsale and Goody Grace split

Page 15: Ariana Grande is raising eyebrows with her raunchy new record Positions -- the former squeaky-clean Nickelodeon star who has been dating real estate agent Dalton Gomez spouted off X-rated odes to an unnamed lover on the LP, six months after sidelining her marriage to former quarterback Jay Cutler Kristin Cavallari admitted there are good days and bad days but insisted it’s been nice to be able to focus on herself and figure out who she is now and what she ultimately wants out of life, hotel heiress Kathy Hilton is joining The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills as a friend of the main cast which includes her half-sister Kyle Richards

Page 16: Crime

Page 17: On Drew Barrymore’s talk show a psychic guest channeled the spirit of one of the host’s former in-laws but the man in question is very much alive -- medium Anna Raimondi told Drew she sensed the aura of a judge causing Drew to burst into tears and named David a relative of her ex-husband Will Kopelman claiming he’d passed but Judge David Kopelman is alive and still going strong -- Will slammed Anna was a submental hack and said he was surprised that Drew chose to give oxygen to someone like that

Page 18: American Life

Page 20: Cover Story -- Prince Andrew is desperate to quash explosive testimony by his pedophile pal Jeffrey Epstein’s accused madam Ghislaine Maxwell but the socialite’s second secret deposition is torpedoing his return from royal exile -- after Ghislaine danced around details of her relationship with the disgraced Duke of York in testimony released a few weeks ago Andrew is sweating bullets about her second grilling under oath which contains details of their intimate friendship and nights with Epstein’s teen sex slave Virginia Roberts Giuffre

Page 22: Don McLean viciously slammed ex-wife Patrisha Shnier as the worst person her ever knew but in their ongoing war of words she maintains he was abusive to her -- Don is still bitter over a 2016 domestic incident at their home in Maine that landed him behind bars and led to divorce after 30 years of marriage

Page 26: Matthew McConaughey confessed he nearly turned his back on Tinseltown to be a wildlife guide like late Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin -- he made a splash in a string of blockbuster rom-coms in the ‘90s and ‘00s but he was eager to move on to meatier movies and even passed on a $14.5 million paycheck in 2010 to seek more substantial roles and the struggle left him considering other careers such as a wildlife guide, Jamie Foxx has been crushed by the death of his beloved sister DeOndra Dixon who was born with Down syndrome

Page 28: Good Catch -- Bachelor stars who are still up for grabs -- Jon Hamm, Owen Wilson, Drew Carey

Page 29: Benicio Del Toro, Ryan Seacrest, Matthew Perry, some stars seem to say I do at the drop of the hat -- Larry King, Jerry Lee Lewis, Billy Bob Thornton

Page 32: Olivia Munn was caught on camera flashing what looked like engagement bling on her left ring finger as she exited a gym following a morning workout in Los Angeles but she reportedly broke up with boyfriend Tucker Roberts last year leaving fans wondering who bought the stunning sparkler

Page 36: Health Watch

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Michelle Pfeiffer

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Allison Janney on Mom

Page 47: Odd List

10 notes · View notes

galaxyshine24-7 · 3 years

Text

Nellie Zumwalt🤠

(American)

Name: Nellie Beau Zumwalt

Age: 28

Languages: English, German, Spanish, etc

Job: The owner of Beauregard Ranch

Likes: Animals, Farm Life, The South, Music, Horse Riding, Radios, Guitars

Dislikes: Overconfident people, Snobs, Rudeness, Disrespect, Laziness, Bad Deeds

Pets: The Farm animals, has a Cow named Bessie, Takes in Strays

Height: 6’0

Beauregard Ranch

Beauregard Ranch was founded during the Wild West era. People traveling to and fro one day a man from Germany came from across the seas to establish a ranch of his own and get away from his troubled home life His name was Adalric Zumwalt . After he landed in America he traveled by train to a charming town in the south. However, unknowing to him a gang of outlaws called the White Pistol gang, planned on robbing the train, and robbed them they did. Adalric stood up to them and that impressed them greatly. They took the man and brought him to their leader. Magnolia Beauregard and runaway slave that has been sweeping the Wild West and making people cower in fear of her presents. Adalric amused her greatly and she took him on a Wild Ride through the West. A few years later he and Magnolia fell in love and then the gang settled in his small town in the south. The outlaws protected the citizens from forces with evil intent and in return they were offered protection and a place to settle down.

Magnolia and Adarlic built the ranch from the ground up and planted crops, owned animals, and bred horses. They named it Beauregard farms and spent their lives there having many children and overseeing the town.

But like all families they had their secrets. In the times when Magnolia was under a master she learned many things from that time. The master’s wife was a cruel woman to the slaves and it was always her master that calmed her down. Her master was an archaeologist and collected and sold many treasures, he taught her to read and write. One such treasure came with a great cost. Said to be taken from an ancient site in Mexico was the blade of death. Many stories have been made about this blade, but the master wasn’t one for superstitions.

And the night he brought it home and put it on display his wife killed him with it after he brought up divorce. Magnolia walked in seeing the body of him on the floor. The wife lunged at her screaming, letting out a viscous laughter at Magnolia who fought her to the death holding the blade in her hands. All bloody and bruised, she took the horses and the rest of the slaves with her, and took the prized white pistol of her former master’s home. That’s how it all started, but Magnolia knew the blade wasn’t something for her to use. She made sure to hide it under the floors of their Ranch home and told all her children the story and they told their children the story about how dangerous it is.

Decades later Velvet Beauregard, a descendant of Magnolia got married with a nice man and they settled on the Ranch, her being the heir. However before her marriage she cheated on her fiancé and hoped to cover it up and say the baby was her husband's child. It worked for a time but when the baby was born and started growing she could see the resemblance to the other man, and her guilt started to sink in heavily. With desperation she remembered the blade downstairs and where it was hidden and decided to stage an attack telling her husband they were going into town, but she stayed in the farm's wide crop fields slashing up her body and then killing her child stabbing her repeatedly. Unknowing to her these actions caused an uproar from the force at hand and Velvet paid for her crimes as her own life was taken in a bloody mess.

The town searched day and night when she didn’t return home. The cries of the child brought back to life were heard and Velvet’s former husband took in the child. While the remains of his cheating wife rotted in front of him and the blade laying right next to her.

Ever since then the family has been cursed, and the spirit of death chooses a member every 50 years to be a vessel and bring death upon the land.

Background:

Nellie Beauregard Zumwalt was born on a sunny day as the Magnolia’s bloomed. She was born in the house mansion by her father who was a doctor. She was the oldest out of five children and the heir to the Estate. Ever since she was young Nellie has always been strange, staring off into space or talking to people who aren't there. However it was never very concerning as she grew up so her parents left it alone.

Nellie grew up around a caring and close knit community who took care of each other, and did it without a second thought. The town grew popular with its charm and activities with its famous radios and house races. It's also home to good schools and a safe place to raise a family.

Nellie would stay in the town for most of her life becoming a popular figure with her horse riding trophies and her help around the town. She went to college for agriculture with a minor for the arts. It wasn’t until she turned 25 did something strange start to happen to her.

It was on a chilly day in October and the town was covered in autumn leaves. The town was getting ready for the biggest harvest yet. There were lots of tourists and haunted houses as the town got to work to collect the harvest before the winter. Nellie was in the field picking pumpkins with some of her nieces and nephews. She helped place them on the wheelbarrow as they walked through the fields looking over the crops getting collected, when they got to the house one of her brothers walked up to her.

“We got a few trouble makers on the tours and they destroyed a good patch of pumpkins.” He tells her. Now Nellie is good at handling her emotions; her temper is something she has been able to control for a long time. She told her nieces and nephews to get ready for dinner.

“Okay tell me what happened.” She asks once the children are gone. Her brothers explains how the troublemakers were just causing problems throughout the tours and then lead to one of Nellie’s sisters to punch one out that then resulted in the pumpkins getting crushed.

“We need to get them to pay for it.” Nellie suggests.

“They threw about a thousand dollars at us.” He shrugs. “Then went into town, probably causing even more trouble.” He rubs his temple. Something didn’t sit right with Nellie as she nodded. Great so rich pricks that think they can walk all over everyone. It only made her blood boil.

“Okay just keep an eye out so they don’t come back.” As she said that a wave of nausea watches over her and she imminently needs to go lay down. Her brother helps her to the master bedroom and tells the others to let her rest.

In the middle of the night she awoke with heightened senses and an itch to head downstairs. Her family had either gone home or were fast asleep as she glared through the mansion almost weightless. Entering the basement is when the feeling gets stronger as the blade was put on display under lock and key. Nellie would usually see it collecting dust, but it's cleaned and she can take in every detail about it. Black smoke fills the room only leaving her and the blade as a voice sounds in her mind.

“It is time to pay the debt, my child.” The display case holding the blade flies off breaking the locks as Nellie slowly takes it.

“Debt?” She was enchanted by the blade.

“Yes one from long ago, you are now to be a vessel and bring death by your hand.”

The black smoke covers Nellie as her eyelids grow heavy and her form changes. She appears as an outlaw from the old west dressed in all black with long fog-like hair wearing a coal colored cowboy hat with a silver string around it, and her face was replaced by a skull.

She takes a deep breath feeling the earth around her knowing what she has to do. The sounds of people running a muck in her farm drew her attention as she headed upstairs. Outside a large black horse with a black misty mane greets her. She hopes on the horse as it speeds towards the sound. It's the troublemakers from earlier carrying matches and gasoline in their hands and approaching the fields hoping to burn down the crops they worked so hard to harvest.

Her horse roared with anger as Nellie held out her blade watching it shape and morph into a curved edge much like a sickle as she slaughtered them in bloody heaps. Cutting off heads and ripping out their entrails as she throws her head back to let out a banshee-like scream.

The next morning Nellie sits in the living room of her mansion reading the newspaper and sipping tea by the window. No one knew what happened to them, and said it was a vicious animal attack. Nellie looks out at the morning sun over her ranch and all she can do is smile.

#slashers #slasher oc #horror #Nellie Zumwalt #The Hollowed Reaper #slasher

1 note · View note

fluentlanguage · 3 years

Text

2020: An Honest Review of a Maddening Year

Prost Neujahr!! Let me raise my glass of wine-with-fizzy-water to you and imagine a virtual hug to say "wow, that was something." Happy new year 2021! Over the last few days, I have been taking stock and going through my review of the year.

Winter/Spring 2020

Things started off so well!

Fluent Language Life

I kicked off the year with Your Solid Vocab Memory, a brand new online course I had created over the winter holidays. Over the month, I was delighted to welcome the first students and even host a brand new live round! Live rounds were a new concept that Iearnt about in 2020. You’ll read about them again!

In the springtime, I also became a co-host of the Language League membership group (now closed). My first lesson was about applying the lessons of the Four Tendencies framework by Gretchen Rubin to language learning, and it was a success!

💡 By the way, you can get access this lesson as part of the Language Habit Toolkit!

In my podcast world, I pre-recorded some interviews before moving house and published my long-awaited interview with Marc Okrand, creator of the Klingon Language. Along with Marc’s episode, this one with Lindsay is one of my favourites for the year.

I concluded late spring with a highlight and a challenge:

🥳 Highlight: I taught and created the Language Dabbler’s Guide to Welsh, my first ever class dedicated to the Welsh language which I love soooo much. It was daunting and incredibly exciting to teach this language to others, and I’m delighted about how it all came together.

😭Challenge: About halfway through March and before the Polyglot Cruise was cancelled by Kris Broholm (for obvious and very sensible reasons!), I decided to withdraw my own attendance on the ship. Having looked forward to this cruise for many months, it was a really hard and sad decision. I struggled with anxiety over safety on a cruise, and sadness over the loss of this innovative event.

Personal Life

🎊 I enjoyed lovely days out around the UK in London, Leeds, and Folkestone, and a week at home helping my mum celebrate her 60th. This was just a few weeks before the world shut its doors and borders, so I’m grateful I was able to celebrate her birthday as a family in Germany.

The highlights were a little more hidden. No trips around the world speaking 5 new languages, but perhaps the kind of work that will serve me and you for years to come.

🏡 Right in the last week of March, we finally got the news that our new home was ready. I remember standing in the new house having to keep a 2-metre distance from the house builder’s rep, and the absolute chaos and anxiety and stress of trying to ensure a smooth move in the same week our government issued “stay at home” orders.

Language Learning

My winter and spring of 2020 were dedicated to quiet study of the Chinese language. I used plenty of LingQ and Yabla, which were fantastic resources giving me understandable input even at my beginner level.

I wasn’t really in love, but happy to plod along. Here’s where I was at by the end of it all.

In hindsight, I don’t mind that there wasn’t a huge blissful progress rush. The spring was a fulfilled time but also a challenge, and I found that the work I did with Chinese helped me later in the year when I started speaking more. Whatever you learn in a language now will always serve you down the line, no matter if it feels like “progress” in the moment or not.

Spring / Summer 2020

April started off marked by anxiety and exhaustion. The country, continent, globe were in a bad place. Every day, my heart broke for people suffering with the disease.

My mum always said that whatever you dream in the new home comes true. I dreamt I was in hospital with covid, so let’s just hope there are exceptions to that one.

Fluent Language Life

I had chosen to pause the Fluent Show for a few weeks while settling into the new space, but recorded a bunch of cool interviews behind the scenes. Speaking to incredible people like Sara Maria Hasbun helped me connect to my own motivation again. I also produced a little mini series called “Fluent in Isolation”, which you can get through the Fluent Show’s Patreon page

During April, I wasn’t ready to run or create new programmes yet, but I dedicated my time to sprucing up the Fluent Affiliate programme, which now boasts a few great features that I’m proud of. If you’re ever interested, here’s where to sign up.

In May, I created my first ever 1:1 coaching programme, the month-long 30 Days to Fluent. It felt incredible to give learners that structured support and I learnt a lot to take forward.

Besides that, a highlight and a challenge:

🥳 Highlight: The Teach & Thrive Summit! Teach & Thrive was a membership I ran together with Lindsay Williams, my only offering for online teachers in 2020. The Summit event was our way to boost online teachers for two days straight, and we had so much fun and met a few amazing people doing it.

Black Lives Matter

This was the challenge, but to call it a “challenge” feels like an understatement. Events happened in the USA and reverberated around the world in June 2020, and I think it made a lot of people reflect not just on their own practices as teachers and business owners, but also as people on the internet.

It is worth clarifying that I actively want to support anti-racism and will highlight and advocate for the equality of all. Language learning means committing to tolerance of other world views, and this open mind is a core value for me. This topic deserves well considered words so here are the best I managed to put together.

Personal Life

Well, it was lockdown. I learnt how to make sourdough bread, bought some roller-skates, went paddle boarding. I didn’t travel. I went to the pub, just once. I celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary with my husband…in our living room. I felt restricted, but made the most of it. The time passed…like bubblegum.

Language Learning

After all the events I wanted to attend in Wales got cancelled, I picked up online lessons in Welsh again in the summer and threw in Chinese lessons on top.

I participated in the italki language challenge, which was an excellent way to get more fun into my language world without having to struggle to concentrate on a book.

Summer/Autumn 2020

In the hot hot heatwaves of August, I made the lovely decision to join the business programme Profitable Playground - this was the biggest business commitment I made to Fluent Language in 8 years and I’ve been delighted about the ways it’s improved my work. When I am better at all that, all my students get better results!

Fluent Language Life

The biggest event of the late summer was Women in Language, the annual online conference I co-organise with Shannon Kennedy and Lindsay Williams. With 789 participants from 65 countries this year, we broke all the records. Women in Language is an incredible event and we love everyone who made it along this year. (We’ll be back in March 2021 by the way.)

I followed up Women in Language with a few days of rest and a dive into something I had worked towards for many months: Updating the Language Habit Toolkit!

The Language Habit Toolkit is one of my favourite ever courses and a cornerstone of how I teach and coach languages. In October, I invited everyone who owns the course to a live round, added a brand new training on productive language learning, and even added another professional worksheet. The course is the best it’s ever been!

The Language Habit Toolkit live round was an all-round delight, and I’m looking forward to running more of these in this new year.

One more highlight to note in this period is the 200th Fluent Show episode. We made it!!!

Personal Life

Like in the summer, I have little to report here. I was proud to give blood for the second time this year, but overall this time was dominated by the monotony of life at home. There were some home improvements, and more exercise. It’s all good, but I look forward to leaving my street a little more in the summer of 2021.

Language Learning

Over autumn, I kept up my weekly Chinese lessons as much as I could, but Welsh definitely took the pole position again when I joined a weekly evening class run by Welsh for Adults.

The course runs for 2 hours every Thursday night, it’s based on a traditional textbook, and in all honesty it’s been a delight to meet new people and chat away in this language once a week.

I’m now learning Welsh at level B2, and that is enough to call myself a Welsh speaker. What a joy! I don’t regret learning this language for a second.

Autumn/Winter 2020

THEY INVENTED A COVID VACCINE!! But this isn’t a review of medicines, so let’s get back to Fluent Language.

Fluent Language Life

In November, I found myself in a massively exciting situation as a speaker at the Language Show 2020. This was my first year as a speaker at this particular event and I was overwhelmed with the positivity, engagement and joy of 1000 live viewers who tuned in to see my talk about boosting your vocab memory. What a joy!

The good vibes continued in December as I gave the year just one more fun event, the Crack the Grammar Code live training. I had so much fun and was absolutely delighted to share my honest best practices about how to really learn grammar when you’re learning languages.

Personal Life

After spending most of my year in a very small world without personal transport, I finally ordered a new car which was delivered in November. It hasn’t completely changed my life, but there’s a definite change in the quality of every day as I can now allow my world to grow a little bit more.

Having personal transport has meant that I’m also back in the sea! I love the bracing adventure of swimming outside, and even in the British winter it never fails to put a smile on my face. Having done without access to the coast for most of 2020, I feel like this small change is making a big difference.

Even though the festive season was spent without any family and friends as the UK had to increase its covid restrictions in our second wave, things still felt like there was a dawn after the cold night. The US elections, the covid vaccine, the new year are giving me hope for 2021. We can do this!

In Conclusion

✨ I dedicated myself to language coaching and sharing psychology and mindset training for your language success. In 2020, I did more of this than ever with 2 new courses (see all of them here).

🎊 I had lots of fun in my business with workshops like the Language Dabbler’s Guide to Welsh, the Language Habit Toolkit live round, and our record-breaking Women in Language conference. And I learnt that when I have fun, my students benefit!

👩🏻‍🏫 I co-ran two membership groups...both of which closed to make more space for the new, exciting work that comes next.

2020 was a huge challenge, but we got through it and we all learnt a lot. The highlights were a little more hidden. No trips around the world speaking 5 new languages, but perhaps the kind of work that will serve me and you for years to come.

My Thank You

Throughout the year, I was supported by you as my readers, students, Patreon backers, podcast listeners, blog readers and language buddies.

Stay healthy, all of you, and tell me what’s been your highlight of the year 2020 with a comment or a message!

0 notes

covid19updater · 3 years

Text

COVID19 Updates: 12/30/2020

China: Study: Number of infections in Wuhan was ten times higher According to a Chinese study, the number of corona infections when the pandemic broke out in Wuhan was possibly ten times as high as previously stated. According to the study by the Chinese Center for Disease Control (CDC), around 4.43 percent of Wuhan's eleven million residents had developed antibodies against the novel coronavirus by April. According to the study, this corresponds to around 480,000 corona infections in the metropolis by April. That is almost ten times as many as the approximately 50,000 cases officially named so far.

Switzerland: SWISS CANTON SAYS IS AWARE OF A PERSON WHO RECEIVED A COVID-19 SHOT AND LATER DIED, SAYS HAS REFERRED MATTER TO SWISS DRUGS REGULATOR SWISSMEDIC. LINK

Tennessee: Ambulances left waiting hours to drop off patients at Memphis hospitals, firefighters’ union says LINK

Arkansas: Marion, Arkansas police chief dies after COVID-19 battle LINK

UK: Hundreds more people dying at home than normal, latest ONS coronavirus report shows LINK

RUMINT (UK): I’m told a major London hospital has told its senior medical staff to brace themselves for the peak in admissions which they believe still won’t come for another fortnight. I’m also told that in one London hospital, psychiatric nurses and other mental health staff have been redeployed to provide support to staff on ICU. One staff member tells me: “Nurses are walking off the wards in tears, some have resigned. They are dealing with PTSD... .from the multiple traumatic deaths they are witnessing and then having to go back for more. We need everyone to be more cautious. People need to avoid mixing and stay at home. We can’t take much more of this. From an anaesthetist at a London hospital: At various points over the Xmas wkend every CPAP machine (assists breathing, often used to see if patient can cope without intubation, sedation and ventilation) was in use across entire trust. This is a very bad situation to be in. ITU is being covered partly by nurses who are NOT trained in ITU nursing. In some instances paediatric nurses. Many of these people are doing a great job under almost impossible circumstances. But they are not trained for this. The wards are completely overloaded with covid patients. Every night was worse, every night trying to work out how many we could take to to ITU and who would have to cope on the ward for longer. Morale is very low. We all feel the government is continually since April about 2-4 weeks behind what is obvious on the ground. Anaesthesia and intensive care doctors are getting desperate text messages to help with hospitals that are at the epicentre - East London.” To add some empirical context to these experiences consider a few things 1) NHS had been increasingly struggling in winter before 2) A&E wait times have been getting worse for yrs 3) staff shortages were a problem per-pandemic- eg we went into this with 40,000 nursing vacancies. This is why the Nightingales aren’t being used. Because there just aren’t enough staff to fill them. In the spring we rode it out because a) it was spring and b) staff were fresher. 9 months on they are physically and mentally spent and it’s winter. They’re pushing water uphill. The fact that winter would be so bad for the NHS was predictable and predicted. It’s why people like Andrew Heyward said in Nov that Xmas relaxation would add fuel to the fire. It’s also why some public health experts said that early December return to the tiers was a mistake. I’ve seen a lot of you say that you want to see all this on TV. Believe me, so would I. I’m trying to negotiate access to hospitals but securing it isn’t easy. Rest assured, am doing my best. In meantime am technically still on holiday so returning to that for a few days to gear up for what is going to be a v important few months ahead. NHS staff please do keep getting in touch via DM to tell me what’s happening in your hospital. As ever, always in confidence. Do not listen to idiots who say this is all fake or exaggerated. There is a real crisis going in some of our hospitals right now.

Louisiana: Asked if Congressman-Elect Letlow had any underlying conditions that would have made his death more likely, Dr. G.E. Ghali said: "None. All COVID related."

US: U.S HITS NEW DAILY HIGH WITH 3,725 VIRUS DEATHS

Texas: NEW: At least three shipments of Moderna’s Covid-19 vaccine arrived in Texas with signs that the shots had strayed from their required temperature range, prompting a delay in other deliveries

California: LA doctor identifies case of coronavirus-related psychosis in patient LINK

COLORADO: HAS 24 ADDITIONAL SUSPICIOUS CASES OF COVID UK VARIANT

US: CDC says new Covid strain in U.S. could further stress 'already heavily burdened' hospitals

California: As COVID slams LA’s hospitals, patients are “piled in administrative hallways, stuffed in the corners, hanging over chairs,” said one healthcare worker. “It was like practicing Civil War medicine. It was the worst shift of my life.”

South Africa: December 30 Confirmed cases: 1,039,161 (+17,710 in 24 hrs) Deaths: 28,033 (+465 in 24 hrs)

US: Dawn Wells, ‘Gilligan’s Island’s’ Mary Ann, Dies of COVID at 82 LINK

OHIO: TO NO LONGER ORDER QUARANTINE FOR COVID-EXPOSED STUDENTS

China: BREAKING - China's President Xi Jinping ordered tight controls on coronavirus research hampering experts from identifying the origins of #COVID19, the AP has found.

Georgia: COVID-19, 12/30 Along with cases, growing hospitalizations and positivity approaching 20% are bad signs. Deaths starting to manifest. Cases: 654,743, +9,450 Deaths: 10,846, +67 Current Hospitalizations: 4,560, +123 PCR Positive %: 19.9%

California: *NEWSOM SAYS U.K. VIRUS STRAIN FOUND IN CALIFORNIA: NBC REPORTER

World: Exactly 1 year ago today: An 'urgent notice' from the Wuhan Health Commission is shared on social media, reporting cases of unidentified pneumonia in connection with a seafood market. It was the first word about the COVID-19 outbreak.

California: Several #frontlineworkers at @LLUMedCenter test positive for #COVID19 even after receiving the first round of the @pfizer shot. #NBCLA

Germany: #BREAKING Germany faces 'difficult times' with virus in 2021: Merkel

US: New US cases raise fears UK Covid variant is already widespread LINK

UK: London doctor is 'taken aback' by number of young people with NO PRE-EXISTING CONDITIONS now suffering in hospitals with Covid LINK

RUMINT (UK): Big shift in the UK government tonight. Schools could be shut for six months as new varient begins its agressive assault on young and healthy people. Army is to begin helping police in London with law enforcement. Hospitals are now overwhelmed and they are keeping the numbers quiet.

UK: NHS hospital staff illness or absence up to three times usual level LINK

France: France to deploy 100,000-strong force to police New Year’s Eve - as it happened LINK

US: COVID update: Nearly 3,900 new deaths - New cases: 224,638 - Positivity rate: 14.4% (-1.3) - In hospital: 125,220 (+534) - In ICU: 23,069 (+231) - New deaths: 3,884 - Vaccinated: 2.6M (+461,982)

Washington: Coronavirus infects nearly 150 Costco employees at Washington state store, location to remain open LINK

UK: Birmingham hospital issues alert as it cannot maintain safe nurse staffing levels in intensive care LINK

Germany: COVID update: More than 1,000 new deaths for second day in a row - @risklayer - New cases: 28,130 - Positivity rate: 13.1% - In hospital: 27,846 (-49) - In ICU: 5,631 (-14) - New deaths: 1,052

Colorado: BREAKING: Advocate Aurora now says an employee at its Grafton hospital intentionally removed the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine from a refrigerator resulting in nearly 500 doses having to be thrown away

Texas: The Dallas Area’s Two Largest Airports Have Been Temporarily Closed To All Flights, At Least In Part Due To COVID-19’s Spread Among Air Control Staff. LINK

Florida: Nikki Fried to Gov. DeSantis: Mobilize the Florida National Guard to distribute COVID-19 vaccines LINK

World: New Covid variant linked to higher viral load in respiratory samples LINK

Argentina: Argentina begins COVID vaccine campaign with Russian shots LINK

Thailand: Thailand becomes first country to ban eating and drinking on domestic flights due to COVID-19 LINK

0 notes

djseaward · 6 years

Text

a year of life & travels: 2017

today is new year’s day and it’s time for a recap of last year! it was another great year of being based in southwestern czech republic, feeling like home both here and back in my home country (and realizing that “home” is just a construct), and going to some magical places.

let’s revisit them, shall we? i changed the title of this year’s post to “life & travel” because, as i learned last year, travel isn’t everything and it is also important to capture what else was going on in one’s life. although for this post, it still remains the focal point. (don’t worry) so without further ado....

in january, we had the coldest and snowiest month that i have ever experienced with low low temps that froze over all of the ponds in south bohemia. you know what that meant? checking off my life-long dream to ice skate on a frozen pond! i ended up getting a cold promptly after that day, but it was so worth it. now i am too much of an ice skating elitist to ever skate on anything man-made ever again! (kind of joking, but...)

i also cooked a several course vegetarian dinner for burn's night! (why? we are hopeless "scot-ophiles” who love any good excuse to drink an islay malt and celebrate the the works of burns on a cold, dark winter’s night) that veggie haggis was definitely worth coming back to this month... ooh, i hope i can remember the recipe. it was actually make-again delicious.

in early february we took the first of what would be many many days in the big city (prague). we brought ferdie for his first ever trip on a train, he stayed with a dog-sitter while we saw the vaclav havel exhibit at dox, and generally had ourselves a perfect holešovice day, trudging through slush to get to our favorite cafes and enjoying brunch near the marina. (did you know holešovice had a marina?) i feel like i know the district quite better now!

we also had a very memorable valentine's day tea at born in london and i introduced my favorite students to the british tradition of pancake day -- what better than a lesson where you're making pancakes?!

in early march, my mother-in-law came for her first ever trip to europe and we were so excited to travel with her and take her to all the best spots in prague, český krumlov, and crossing the border into germany to visit bamberg! i had been in bamberg ten years ago during my studies in germany and it just does not disappoint for a low-key trip with excellent food and beer and historical sights. we may have brought two kegs and a few bottles of rauchbier home with us....

april first is always a strange day as the weather is usually quite wacky -- sure enough this year it brought our first forays into summer temperatures, if you can believe it. we marked that day by visiting the beautiful terčino údolí right here in south bohemia - a valley full of blooms, trails, a waterfall, and loads of other cool things to explore. we ate schnitzels while sitting on the terrace of a chateau, because we are in europe. and it was grand.

in mid-april for our long easter weekend, we rode the train into the šumava mountains to the train station with the highest elevation in the country! there we spent our time in a cozy mountain-style house, hiking and relaxing. we couldn't believe our little ferdinand walked 22km in one day! i think this trip is when we realized hiking with him (off-leash) is one of our favorite things to do.

glorious may brought beautiful cherry blossoms, garden parties, and outdoor festivals. i spent my birthday in český krumlov, staying the night there for the first time in over ten years and realizing how magical the town is by night... and how we miss out when we go back home to budejovice before dusk falls! it was brilliant to do all those tourist things like take a coffee in the square, walking around with an ice cream, and doing a bit of shopping in shops i don't usually even bother to set foot in. with our sweet accommodation south of the center right on the river (above), i truly never wanted to leave.

we spent a nice day in june in prague's vinohrady and vršovice districts to celebrate our wedding anniversary with the best mexican food in the country and doing all those big city things. sometimes it's just nicer to avoid old town altogether! (although sometimes i do quite the opposite - there's a time for everything)

at the very end of the month, we shrugged off the long spring and school year with a night in mariánské lázně - a beautiful town in the hills of northwest czech republic that is well-known for its spas and hosting many a famous guest over the past hundreds of years. we danced to jazz in the colonnade and took a hike the next day in the rain... because when you only have a limited time in a new place, you're not going to let a little rain dampen your plans!

at the beginning of july, we woke up and found ourselves in karlovy vary again for our fourth film festival. this time we took it way easier than in past years by staying directly in the center of town and felt so extremely spoiled! it was a great festival, albeit a bit cooler in temperature than every other year. when we got back, we stayed for a weekend with friends at a cottage deep in the wilds of sobo (erm, south bohemia) to have a nice rest before summer camp ramped up.

at the end of the month, we bid czechland goodbye and said hello to chicago! what a city -- i planned to do so much and ended up doing none of the things i thought i would, but instead discovered a whole new side which ended up being one of our favorite parts of our united states trip.

we were in michigan at the beginning of august visiting family and attending a wedding before flying to portland and staying with my dear friend, megs. i can't tell you how good it felt to have landed in the northwest after so long! i felt so at home immediately in that airport terminal. we rented a car and took off for central oregon to be based out of bend for the wedding of another dear friend, julie. we floated the deschutes river, visited many local breweries, and just generally enjoyed that central oregon high desert vibe.

the second half of the month was spent back home in washington -- i was so pleased to make it to my brother's birthday party at his new house as well as a family camping trip near mt. baker, much-needed karaoke nights, hikes, and of course, visiting all the beaches and eating seafood whenever possible... i even learned how to shuck an oyster! we enjoyed our time so thoroughly that it was almost as though i forgot i had to leave again...

(but i missed this little guy quite a lot)

the beginning of september was a bit rough going, but there are so many fun things happening right in budejovice that it is hard not to enjoy being in south bohemia. we spent some lovely, lazy afternoons in český krumlov, our first czech wedding, and then at the end of the month took a "wine vacation" to south moravia -- znojmo, to be exact! staying right on the square in a spacious apartment and hiking through podyji national park to a winery was a highlight, as well as checking off another thing on my "life to-do list": drinking wine in a vineyard.

we even moseyed on down into austria for a morning (as it was just across the border from znojmo) and hiked up to a famous windmill as well as toured a huge underground wine cellar. it was a beautiful weekend!

the weather was absolutely gorgeous here in october. we popped off to prague to spend time immersed in the beautiful old town as well as stop at some farmer's markets and get the obligatory annual pumpkin spice latte. we walked to the very end of the street we used to live in (in malá strana) which leads directly up petřín hill -- a fine time of year for a walk amongst the changing colors of the leaves, clear views, and good weather.

november was about "home" in south bohemia if i had to give it a theme -- we focused on home improvement -- we got a new couch, as well as other appreciated upgrades and went to two big dinners: our first st. martin's dinner as well as hosting thanksgiving for the second time.

on the first of december, we found ourselves in prague yet again for a farewell party of the last of our fellow TEFLers still left in the country -- i can't quite believe that we are the last ones still here of our group from five years ago! it was an emotional time but it's was so good to reconnect with our prague buds. i visited some of the christmas markets there including an attempt to visit old town square, but y'all -- the tourist situation is out of control compared to five years ago (when it was still quite heavy). although there is something special about the market there during advent time... i will probably continue to return despite the crowds!

for christmas, as you may have read, we were in southeastern bavaria (near the austrian border) in the heart of the bavarian alps -- a fantastic and memorable time.

the top five most popular posts on adventurings this year...

-- what i've learned about language learning after +4 years-- best tips & tricks!

-- slow pace or rat race? -- reconciling the relaxed south bohemian lifestyle with what i think i “should” be doing

-- back from the usa + 10 things i love about home -- i was a bit homesick, could you tell?

-- the expat's guide to christmas away from home -- so many tried & true tips and ideas here

-- musings on identity and being an american -- what i've made of my national identity after five years away

these happened to also be my favorite posts i have personally written this year. funny, that.

i also posted two delicious recipes: a deliciously autumnal pumpkin miso soup, the perfect springy weekday cake, & i shared my fool-proof meal planning strategy.

so, where will we go in 2018?

i am so excited that we are planning a real, actual vacation this year! not a trip. just a lay by the pool somewhere beautiful, visit wineries, eat bread and cheese from a local market, hike and bike ride through the beautiful countryside... this is likely going to take us to provence, france. i think a week or so of living the provençal life will be just the thing, and perfect timing after the school year finishes. (time to brush up on my non-existent french!)

i am also pleased to say we’re planning to head to berlin for a month this next summer! it will be the longest consecutive time i’ve spent there for ten years, and i’m looking forward to greatly improving my language study (actually being in the country should sure help!) and finally doing some berlin things i haven’t yet managed in the past decade. ‘tis time.

everything else is up in the air, so we’ll see where the year takes us! i feel oddly optimistic and ready for this new year. how are you feeling about it? where are you headed this year? if you have any provence tips, i am really all ears.

thanks for being around this year! i have loved & appreciated your comments, shares, connecting with you elsewhere, and the fact that you are here reading this right now. happy new year!

keep up with me in 2018 on bloglovin, twitter, instagram, or facebook.

this post is part of the january travel link-up.

ps, you might like ‘year of travels’ recaps of past years: 2016, 2015, & 2014.

#yearinreview #travel #newyear #yearoftravel #expatlife #recap #endofyear #czech republic

2 notes · View notes

texanredrose · 7 years

Text

It’s Funnier in French

Thank you @maburito for helping me with this. Just some Monochrome fluff with a less-than-smooth Blake.

Blake drew in a surreptitious breath as she climbed up the fire escape to the rooftop, highly aware of the woman following in her wake. Strange, she thought, that only four months had passed since she found the German huddled in the alleyway behind her bookstore, yet here they were, standing atop the rooftops of Paris and taking a moment to marvel at the bright lights below. She wanted to take Weiss to the countryside, so she could see the stars better, but this would have to do until she could take a proper vacation. Given the wide blue eyes of her companion and the little smile on her lips, she doubted the other woman was inclined to complain.

"Do you like the view?" Her German had greatly improved, at least to her mind- if the other woman had complaints, she kept them to herself, and there really weren't any others who could give an opinion- but she focused more on her companion's expression instead of her own pronunciation.

"It's beautiful," Weiss replied in her native tongue, white hair stirred ever so slightly by the late fall wind swirling around them. They both wore coats and scarfs to protect against the chill, though the German had second-hand ones a size too big she'd purchased during her escape from the country to the east.

For a moment, the Parisian considered taking the other woman's hand in hers and leading her, but her nerves got the better of her and she settled for lightly grasping the elbow of her sleeve, a small smile on her lips. "Come. There's more to see."

She lead Weiss over to a slanted part of the roof that faced the L’Arc de Triomphe in the distance, all lit up with cars swirling around it like a current, the dull drone punctuated occasionally but far off shouts or other sounds. Pulling the backpack from her shoulders, Blake unpacked a blanket and spread it out for them to lay upon, a bottle of cheap white wine with two glasses quickly following, and a block of cheese for them to nibble on while they watch night descend on the city. It wasn't much but, what with rent being hiked up again and the fiasco last month, it was the best the bookstore owner could afford on such a tight budget. As they settled down, a few inches separating their shoulders, she found herself wondering what her companion did back in her homeland on nights like this, how she must've picked out her favorite hill on the family's sprawling estate to star gaze from while drinking the finest wine from the Rhine, bread and cheese on the side, and maybe even a dessert the Parisian couldn't begin to pronounce for later. It seemed like a poor attempt at mimicking something meaningful to the woman but Blake wanted the night to be special.

One would think, after all the books she'd read, she would have better ideas for romantic overtures.

"Are you cold?" She asked, wincing slightly at what she felt to be a painfully obvious question. The climates of their homelands weren't so dissimilar that she would feel any colder or warmer than the Parisian yet Blake had asked anyway. A blush started rising in her cheeks as she mentally cursed her foolishness.

"I would normally consider weather like this pleasant." The German hummed, shifting slightly closer. "But I'm a little cold for some reason."

"I... forgot to bring another blanket," she replied, feeling her hopes bolstered as she moved, inviting the other woman to use her shoulder as a pillow. "Perhaps... if we lay closer together?"

Blake considered, very briefly, that the pinch to the other woman's brow spoke of an impending rejection, but Weiss quickly scooted even closer and pressed against her side, helping situation the Parisian's arm around her shoulders with a hand on her wrist that didn't let go once they were comfortable in the new position. That certainly improved her mindset, made confessing- which, ultimately, was her goal tonight- a more tangible reality. Ever since they'd met- the beleaguered bookstore owner and the homeless runaway in the early morning light- she'd found herself being drawn further and further into those bottomless blue eyes, at first irked by the woman's confrontational nature before recognizing it for the defense mechanism it was. The months they'd spent working side-by-side in the bookstore were filled with trying times and hopefulness, homesickness warring with a desire for freedom in the German while Blake found herself caught between falling in love with cutting wit and quiet kindness in equal measure. They learned each other's language together, the rolling smoothness of her native tongue juxtaposed with harsh consonants, sometimes feeling as those her uncooperative tongue objected hotly to forming such strange words.

Most of the time, though, it simply had no words to give because all it took was a look from Weiss to wipe her mind clean of any and all language save the rhythmic beating of her heart with her quickened pulse.

"Paris is beautiful- in the daytime and at night," the German said, this time in French and it never failed to make her heart flutter hearing her mother tongue spoken with such care. Practice would make her better, she'd said, and though Blake tried to speak the harsher language frequently enough so she wouldn't feel so out of place among the streets of Paris, her companion often switched back to get a little more when they were alone. "Is your hometown like this?"

"N-no." She swallowed, trying to keep herself under control. "A smaller town without as many lights, but it had its own sort of beauty."

"Would you want to go back?"

"To visit, yes. I miss my parents." Unbidden, the image of herself stepping off the train to see her mother and father, their expressions twisting into one of delighted surprise as they saw their daughter's hand interlinked with Weiss'. Her parents would absolutely love the German, she would bet on it. "But I love Paris. This is where I was born; it's my home." Silence followed her words and she found herself grasping at straws, desperately wanting the conversation to continue. They'd spent so much time learning about language, books, and streets, there were still so many questions remaining as to who they were, or who they were try to become- the bookstore owner dreaming of romance and paperbacks and the runaway searching for a life in a new country. "Would... you ever consider going back? To Germany?"

She held her breath, hoping she hadn't overstepped an invisible boundary between them. For the whole first month, any mention of her former homeland brought forth a pained expression and a biting remark, half the time muttered and too quick for her to catch. That attitude seemed to change in tandem with the healing of the scar marring her left eye, both becoming less angry. In the last few weeks, Weiss had made little comments, referencing places she'd known as a child, experienced she'd had, all tied to that life she'd left behind. Blake had already told as much as there was to tell about her own past, and this seemed like an unequal barrier between them that she wanted to ease away.

"I have considered it," Weiss said slowly, taking a deep breath before releasing it slowly. "I think you would like the Rhine in spring and the markets of München. I think you might particularly like Neuschwanstein Castle in the winter, too. My family often traveled around the south; it would be nice to visit those places again." She paused. "But if I live the rest of my days without returning to that house or that town... I am at peace with that."

Although the melancholy of the woman's tone concerned her, she picked up on something she considered rather noteworthy. "The way you said that makes it sound like you only want to go back if I'm there, too."

"I have no reason to go back otherwise." Weiss shifted, blue eyes finding amber. "This is my home now."

The Parisian felt her heart leap into her throat, caught in the other woman's gaze even as the blush in her cheeks rose- it had to be noticeable now. She wanted to inquire further- what made Paris home, was it the streets and bakeries and vendors or was it the smell of paper and ink- but her tongue would cooperate beyond an unsteady response. "That- yes. Well. I'd love to go. With you, of course. To Germany. Or my hometown. Or the Americas."

One pale brow arched up, a smile coming to her companion's face. "The Americas? Really?"

"They have some wonderful authors, and sights." Trying to get her bearings, her eyes darted past the German's visage to the sky above. "I wonder if their sky is different than ours."

Weiss hummed, settling back against the Parisian's side and turning her gaze skywards as well. "It's sad, isn't it? That the light city has so few stars above it?"

"Well, there's a reason for that," she said, entirely ready to explain about light pollution and her disdain for the man-made lights that illuminated the city instead of the natural beauty of the night sky, but when Blake felt her companion's head turn the same time she moved hers, those stunning blue eyes capturing her once more, the scientific explanation completely flew from her brain, and she instead said the first thing that came to mind. "Your father is a thief. He stole all the stars in the sky to put in your eyes."

Did... did she just...?

Heat suffused her cheeks, going all the way to the tips of her ears as she mentally screeched in impotent rage at her own poor choices. Why? Why? Of all the things she could've said, she chose the single most cliched, most widely derided, most painfully obviously insincere phrase in the whole world? Nothing she said after this would matter- no one could take a person who had the absolute gall to utter that line seriously in any sense, least of all romantically. How could she-

A laugh like the tinkling of bells, so rare when it lacked the sarcastic bite of the woman's humor or the self derision, rang out through the air, pulling the Parisian's attention away from her mental tirade. "Would that he could be so kind. No, the stars you see were put there by someone else."

Blake waited a moment, unsure if the unspoken question was rhetorical or not, if she was about to be ridiculed for her poor choice of words, but curiosity got the better of her. "Then... who?"

"You," Weiss replied, pushing herself up and turning so she was hovering over the Parisian. "When I was lost, you found me. You held my hand in the darkness, you supported me when I stumbled, you taught me what I didn't know; if I have any light in my eyes at all, it's because you put it there." She paused, pressing her lips into a thin line for a moment before leaning down, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Blake's mouth. "Thank you."

The last two words, whispered as she pulled away, hurt just a bit. Was it just gratitude and nothing else the German felt towards her? She tried looking into the woman's eyes, but she'd turned her head away almost immediately...

"Paris... it isn't only known as the light city, you know." She waited until Weiss was watching her out of the corner of her eye before continuing. "It's also the city of love. I think light and love- they're similar, are they not? Tied together, the one feeding into the other." Now she had the other woman's full attention, tongue darting out to wet her lips as her blush returned in full force. "What I'm trying to say is... if I'm the one who put the light in your eyes, it's because you gave the light to me first. Your presence made it grow and now I can give it back to you." She reached up, her movements slow and deliberate to allow the German more than ample time to draw away. The woman didn't, though, allowing Blake to cup her jaw, thumb brushing just beneath the apple of her cheek and the end of the now fully healed scar. "I'd like to think the love in my heart helped put the light in your eyes..."

"I'd like to think I've done the same." Weiss spoke softly, leaning into her touch.

"Then be my sky, my stars and my moon." With the barest hints of pressure, she pulled the other woman closer, leaning up in the same motion. "Be the light in my eyes as I give you the love in my heart. Be mine, and I'll be yours."

Blake didn't get a verbal response, surprised instead when the German leaned forward the rest of the way, their lips meeting in a tender kiss that had her eyes fluttering closed and electricity singing through her veins. For a few brief moments, nothing else existed besides the other, locked in an embrace that seemed a long time coming despite the brevity of their acquaintanceship. When they parted, their eyes met and neither could hide their smiles nor the rosy tint to their cheeks.

They laid there together, soaking in the ambiance of the Parisian night, eventually opening the wine bottle and pouring it into the glasses. "To us, Blake."

"To us- and a new life together."

Glass clinked and the two snuggled up close, combating the chill of the evening with quiet conversation and idle warmth.

AN: ... Okay, so, some quick things. München is the German... name, I guess... for what most of the world calls Munich. (It confused the hell out of me when I lived there.) Neuschweinstein Castle- also known as the castle from which Cinderella’s Castle draws its inspiration, or the Fairytale Castle- is def a place Blake would want to visit, and probably Ruby too. (And it’s breathtaking in the fall and winter.) “Ton père est un voleur. Il a volé toutes les étoiles du ceil pour les mettre dans tes yeux.” is a really famous and ridiculous pick up line that translates to “Your father is a thief. He stole all the stars in the sky to put in your eyes.” which I’m assured by Mab would never be taken seriously by a French person, hence Blake’s freakout. Thankfully, Weiss is German. (Also, not gonna lie, this shit would totally work on me.) But, if you were wondering what the title references, it’s that line in particular. Now, if I got anything wrong, that’s on me, because I lived in the Bavaria region of Germany for only 2 years and I never went to Paris myself (I ain’t fucking fancy enough for that). I tried to write it from the perspective of someone who’s... like... actually lived in Paris, though, so I tried.

#Monochrome #It's Funnier in French fic #TRR writes

33 notes · View notes

itsomgitsgreenblogging · 7 years

Text

Between: A PJO Fanfiction

This is a fic that’s mostly made of vignettes, some personal headcanons and some canon extension about those referenced Nico moments that were never explicitly addressed leading into those Solangelo moments we all wanted to get.

I hope you all enjoy!

Also read on AO3

Trigger Warning: suicide attempt

Preview:

Nico drifted in a margin between a starless sky and a sea.

Somewhere between, only breaching surface enough to breathe and take another seed between his lips and hope it grew into something better.

There was only darkness, only shadow. He was trapped somewhere in the land between life and death with no way to navigate through.

Would anyone come? Would there ever be any light? Or would he be trapped there for the rest of time? Even if he escaped this fate, would it matter if what he wanted most he could never have? How much more would he have to sacrifice to make it all matter if he had already sacrificed everything?

Nico would do it. One last time.

He sank.

Nico struggled.

“You can’t even summon one ghost. Absolutely pathetic,” his father had sneered, in his eyes an ancient cruelty, and yet his words slid off Nico’s numbed skin like rain and did not reach within. Inside of him something continued to wither. “This is why your sister should have lived. You have amounted to nothing, be gone from my sight.”

And so Nico had expelled himself from Hades, wandered amongst the dark sands and caverns until he found himself surface-bound. How far and how long he had walked was anyone’s guess, but exhaustion clung to him as he desperately tried to inch his way through a darkened forest. Where he was, Nico didn’t particularly care to know or find out.

“Why won’t she answer me?” Nico asked Hades, somebody, no one in particular. His vision was swimming, his tongue felt swollen and yet his mouth was so dry. “Did she...did she hate me so much—that much? And I didn’t…how didn’t I know?”

He knew he had spoken the words but were so far away that he couldn’t hear them or know if anyone had answered. There was an emptiness inside him, something insidious. Was it hunger? Nico thought oddly distant. Nico couldn’t remember the last thing he had eaten, he had burned everything he had stolen in offering. But it was dull and insignificant in comparison to the insidious emptiness inside of him, the void that ached, the sickening continual pain.

Nico wandered, moving only because there was nothing else he could do. He stumbled when he couldn’t walk, crawled when his legs folded beneath him, lay down when he could no longer move. He curled up in that oppressive darkness, with barely enough strength to lift his limbs.

Nico wondered if he would disappear if he waited. Would he disappear into the underworld without a trace? Certainly he would be sent to the Asphodel Fields and become a nameless shade, as Lord Hades had repeatedly told him because Nico would never amount to anything. It was his sister who should have lived. She had been the promised one, never Nico.

Would he even make it there or would he instead be bound for the Fields of Punishment? Nico thought suddenly seized with panic. Was this not punishment enough, to be so lonely that every moment felt as if it were a new death? If he wouldn’t even be reunited with his sister in death, if she did not want him even then, what could he do? He didn’t have anyone left, his mother, his sister, gone—

“Papa…” Nico croaked and reached, even though he didn’t exist and wouldn’t be there to take his hand. That gentle but stern, that firm but loving Papa who had lived in his memory must have just been that, a beautiful golden memory, a dream-figment. A beautiful story that Nico had cultivated to protect his heart from the truth that his world was only two people who were gone forever. But oh, his golden memory. A hand that didn’t hurt and took nothing from him reaching down to grasp his own, squeezing gently and keeping Nico close and safe. A curve of lip that may have been a smile. Dark eyes that were fond and warm. Nico didn’t need much, only that small flicker of happiness, that dim and seemingly inconsequential reason, and he would have been content for the rest of his life. What wouldn’t he give to sink into that dream and live there in that moment for the rest of time? What wouldn’t he have given to have the chance to go home?

Nico, freezing, starving, and half-mad with a grief just wanted to go home.

He wanted it so bad that he could feel it in the root of his teeth. He could see it in his mind’s eye, feel it against his flesh, reach for it in the dark. Home, Nico thought desperately as he plunged his hand into shadow as his heart’s cry intensified. Papa, please, take me back home. I want to go home, home—

And then suddenly the ground opened up, and Nico fell into shadow.

Nico would never forget that first unwitting leap, how he screamed but no sound came out as he tumbled through the darkness. The shadows reached for him, pulling him further and further, called to him with in a choir of the damned—our prince, our prince, our prince—

Nico fought and surfaced, expelled from the shadows violently about a mile away. He hit the ground hard, slid down a ravine and into the mouth of a cave, and lay there stunned, in so much pain that he couldn’t move, and absolutely exhausted.

When Nico finally managed to raise his head, Minos was looking down at him shimmering and iridescent.

“There may be hope for you after all.”

Nico was ten.

Nico’s breath swirled and caught the light, his puffs of air an iridescent white in the winter night. There was a distant stinging against his face and neck, where the collar of his jacket didn’t quite cover, but it didn’t bother him much anymore.

Christmas-time in Dresden was a beautiful blaze of light in the night, the Christmas market was full of venders and people bustled around the stands in search of hot mulled wine and a litany of traditional sweets and foods. A Ferris wheel and carousel churned in a dizzying rhythm, bursts of music and laughter filled the air. Nico didn’t know how to speak German (the fact that he could parcel out vague meanings was odd and he couldn’t really explain it), which was an issue because after accidentally shadow-traveling there from rural Idaho he was in desperate need of both sleep and food but couldn’t figure out a way to ask for either nor did he have any euros on him. So he had taken to slipping through alleyways and between stalls in search of something to fill his stomach that he could easily nick.

Maybe it was Nico’s vaguely panicked and hungry look that drew attention, but suddenly a man was standing in front of him. Tall and stocky, with a beard full of curls, he looked down on Nico with blue eyes and crinkled laugh lines.

“Fröhliche Weihnachten!” he greeted with a booming voice that made Nico jump and his hands twitch for his Stygian sword. The man—the baker, who obviously could not see beyond the thin veil of Mist, nor perceive the threat of Nico’s entire existence, because he began to rattle off fast paced German and Nico only vaguely caught a mention of him asking Nico if he was hungry.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak German,” Nico croaked, his voice sounding raspy and strange in his own ears.

“Ah! Sorry, sorry,” the baker said in very heavily accented English before reaching over to scoop a small plate of cookies that looked vaguely like gingerbread and place it in Nico’s hands. “Lebkuchen for you! Have a happy Christmas!”

“I didn’t pay—“ Nico tried to say, before suddenly a tide of tourists nearly swept him away as he still clutched his cookies.

Nico was then standing alone in a sea of people with his newly acquired cookies, feeling stranded. However the cookies looked so good, dusted with powered sugar, wafting the scent of ginger and molasses and candied citron. He had just lifted one up to his mouth, and into an alleyway, and before he could even put together a new thought suddenly he was face to face with the faint shimmering image of Minos, his eyes glinting coldly from behind the pale.

“I believe you thought to change your father’s opinion of you,” Minos scoffed and Nico felt his teeth clench. Suddenly nothing was okay again. “How do you believe you could possibly gain enough power to do that and save your sister, if you can’t even manage to shadow travel to Boise from Cadwell without ending up in Germany!”

“Shut up!” Nico growled back at him, storming into shadow and dropping into it, all his thoughts trained on Boise and focused by his rage.

It was only when he fell out of cleaning supply in Bismark to the surprise and concern of a couple of employees that he realized he hadn’t taken his bite and promptly fainted. He spent that Christmas trying to escape from a holding cell in Montana.

Nico jumped.

For a moment everything was still, no pain, no hunger, no exhaustion. Nico became impressions: a sword, a golden memory, his sister’s smile, his mother’s laughter so clear it was as if his mind had been waiting until the end to give him one final blessing—

—the air whistled and hummed as if alive the grey water came up to embrace him—

Who knew there was

an entrance to

the underworld

beneath

the

Golden Gate Bridge?

Nico stuffed himself full of cake and ice cream, as much as he could get his hands on, unable to give up the opportunity. He avoided Percy Jackson’s mother’s concern, keeping his eyes cast down on his fingers.

“That plan is crazy,” Percy said quietly, tapping a frantic rhythm out with his finger on the table. Nico dared a look through his hair and saw Percy’s unwavering green stare on him. Nico immediately looked away, picking at the dirt beneath his fingernails, twisting his ring on his finger again and again.

“It would work,” Nico said, his throat feel scratchy. Percy was still looking at him, and Nico could almost feel it dig into his skin, raising his blood pressure, making his face feel hot. Nico hoped beyond all hope that Percy didn’t notice the way that Nico desperately wanted to disappear.

“How do you even know that?”

“If it’s good enough for Achilles, it would be good enough for you,” Nico scoffed. Percy frowned, lips pulling down, and Nico forced his gaze back to his hands and his empty plate.

“Annabeth would kill me for trying something so stupid,” Percy noted, and Nico swallowed desperately, bracing himself against the unnamed emotion that was rising within him.

“Just think about it,” Nico said as he forced himself to stand up. His stomach lurched with the movement, and he braced against the table.

“Where are you sleeping tonight?” Percy suddenly asked, reaching out to him. “I could ask my mom—“

“I’m fine, Jackson,” Nico said, nearly spitting out the words and flinching away from the touch. “I’ll see you later. Let me know what you think.”

Nico left as quickly, rushing down the fire escape. He ran three blocks before he was forced to stop to throw up the contents of his stomach.

Nico sat across from Annabeth at the table.

On a day to day basis Nico actually liked Annabeth when he wasn’t hating her for things that were completely and utterly out of her control. That didn’t mean that being in the same room with her was easy. It couldn’t be when Annabeth could so easily attain the things that Nico could never have with a semblance of grace. She was what he couldn’t be, she had run away and yet she had found a home. She was harsh and yet people could look beyond that to love her. Annabeth was…she was…

Annabeth looked fondly at Percy’s retreating figure and Nico wanted to find somewhere in the ground that he could be buried. Her eyes trained on him, and Nico felt himself bristle.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” Nico said because he honestly hadn’t.

“You almost beheaded her,” Annabeth said with a raised eye brow.

“Well at least then she wouldn’t stick her nose where she doesn’t belong,” Nico said as he sunk down in his chair. Annabeth was not amused, and Nico wished somehow he could sink lower.

“Listen, I understand, after the Battle of Manhattan we’ve all been highly strung. But you can’t be making enemies here if you want to stay.”

“She snuck up behind me and—“ Nico felt his throat close around the word “scared”. Instead he sealed his mouth shut.

“Just…don’t do what you’ve been doing,” Annabeth said as she tugged at one of her perfect princess curls, her grey eyes almost powdery blue in the midday sun.

“And what have I been doing?” Nico snapped, feeling that ugly unnamed feeling rise up once more.

“I’m not in the mood to deal with your bad attitude right now,” Annabeth said as she leveled annoyed glare. “Just apologize to Ares Cabin before someone puts a hit in for Capture the Flag or something.”

“Fine,” Nico said as he stood up and burst from the pavilion. He stomped out, watching as the other campers gave him a wide breadth. Had they always done that? Nico suddenly thought and was seized by panic. When had they started doing that? Why had Annabeth said that? Why did it have to be Annabeth--?

Nico smacked into a girl from Aphrodite Cabin. Her eyes blew out and her face drained of color, as she cringed and stuttered out an apology. Suddenly Nico was swimming in a rising sea of whispers, of fears. What had been his strength was suddenly his undoing. How had he not noticed? How?

“Nico, you alright?” Percy Jackson called from the training fields, his hair slick with sweat, his shirt riding up.

Nico ran back to his cabin and slammed the door close. By nightfall Nico had left Camp Half-Blood for good trying to outrun the jealousy that was threatening to drown him, and the unadulterated anger for the one who caused it. At least, Nico thought, someone was waiting for him this time.

Between was different, not bad, but different.

Persephone was Persephone. She had her days where she viewed Nico as one would a wall ornament or try to throw fruit at him as if he could get exercise by playing fetch. But on somedays it almost seemed like she didn’t mind when Nico sat with her in the garden and let her ramble about nitrogen and tree roots.

Sometimes Hades would almost smile when he looked at Nico. And sometimes, Hades looked like he wanted Nico to call him father and was always disappointed when Nico didn’t. But they were working on it. Slowly but steadily they were working on something. And that seemed to be enough for the both of them.

And Nico had Hazel now, a sister that Nico hadn’t known before but would never let go. He relearned how to laugh at himself. Remembered how nice it was to sit next to somebody and not have to speak, of the inherent understanding that came between siblings. Understood that though he could never replace what he lost and would always feel the ache within him, maybe, just maybe, he could move forward inch by inch with Hazel by his side. Nico remembered thinking he might like that, and thought that liking things was almost an intoxicating sensation. Percy Jackson disappearing and appearing with a forecast of severe memory loss had been stressful, but he was with Hazel and Nico could do things to keep himself from thinking of him for longer than a cursory acknowledgement.

Nico thought could do something about all of it. So he tried.

Anguish.

Something wet was seeping out of his side which hurt, it hurt so badly. He wanted it to stop, he had to get whatever was digging itself in his head out before it ate him whole—!

“Nico, you have to stop! You need to keep moving. Please, don’t hurt yourself anymore.”

Nico pulled his hand away, and realized they were painted with his blood. His arms were gouged, blood trailing down his knuckles and over the hilt of his sword, but he felt no pain besides a dull ache. Suddenly his mouth twisted and laughter odd and broken and exhausted scraped his throat as he stumbled forward. The wasted plains of Tartarus in all their horror lay out before him, and he had nothing to protect himself from it.

“I can’t…keep going,” Nico gasped out of a laugh, his steps swaying, his vision swimming. He felt ancient and frail as he swam amongst the curses in the belly of the deepest pit with fire in his blood and sickness in his heart.

“You have to. You can’t give up, Nico. You can’t ever give up. If you do they will capture you, and everything could be over,” her voice was calm and urgent in his ears. He had long since stopped wondering why, why then, why now? Maybe he had been saving Bianca for the moment when he needed her most. Or maybe that was the form his scantly remaining powers took to guard him from complete and utter madness. Maybe it was his conscience, or his heart. If he still had a heart left, maybe its beat would be Bianca’s voice. Nico didn’t know, nor did he care.

“I know…I know,” Nico said, trying desperately to breathe through the contractions that were choking him and the stinging in his throat. “If I die here…do you think my soul will still make it to…”

“You can’t think like that, please don’t think like that Nico. You have to get there, and you can’t let them catch you.”

“Why not?” Nico asked, as he had to force his sword into the ground to steady himself for a moment. It hurt, everything hurt. Why did he have to keep on going? He knew he had to, but all he wanted to do was lay down and sleep forever.

“Nico!”

“I’m sorry,” Nico gasped as he snapped back to attention, forcing his legs up from where his knees had given out. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry—“

Suddenly he could feel it, a rumbling in the abyss. The monsters, Nico thought panicked, they were coming back—

“Nico!”

The darkness in Nico boiled and frothed out from the inside. He could feel the shadows writhing beneath his skull, welling from his bones and spilling through his veins. Everything shifted, he was sinking as the corruption took a hold of him, and despite everything in him that was fighting back there was barely anything left of him to hold onto. The shadows ripped into him, bidding him to melt away into the darkness, and Nico didn’t want to go.

He stumbled and fell, still fighting against the claws. He screeched as he met twin cruel grins.

Nico drifted in a margin between a starless sky and a sea.

Somewhere between, only breaching surface enough to breathe and take another seed between his lips and hope it grew into something better.

There was only darkness, only shadow. He was trapped somewhere in the land between life and death with no way to navigate through.

Nico would do it. One last time.

He sank.

“Why do you keep trying to talk to me?” Nico asked Will Solace bluntly.

Nico was sitting on a bed in the infirmary, having stripped off his shirt so Will could take a look at his gashes. Nico hadn’t particularly wanted to come to the infirmary, as he didn’t know how those in danger of dying would feel with his presence. At the same time, Will Solace had impressed him with his guts. And Nico always honored those who he believed deserved it with his respect, so he had come to the infirmary with those thoughts in mind.

“Well…I don’t know. I just like talking to you is all,” Will answered, the question’s premise seemingly amusing to him. Nico wasn’t amused.

“Why?” Nico continued to press.

“You’re easy to like, Nico,” Will chuckled fondly.

Nico scowled, mostly out of bafflement. He was definitely not easy to like. In his whole life the only people he had managed enough fondness to be considered genuine affection from were his mom and sisters…and his dad. But they were also biologically inclined to like him at least a little bit. Or at the very least not to immediately hate him or anything. Not that he didn’t have the skills to make them regret that. It was an unfortunate side effect of being a child of the underworld. Reyna was a different, special case. She had shared her strength with him, they were more like comrades in arms than anything (though a part of Nico knew he was just kidding himself).

Though thankfully both Bianca and Hazel had avoided that curse where Nico and most other children of Hades/Pluto before them hadn’t. People had loved Bianca, loved how thoughtful, mature, and polite she was, how interesting she could be with that bit of rebellion in her and the pretty curl of her hair. And people utterly adored Hazel, it was almost impossible not to with her bright welcoming smile and her inclination to fierceness and determination and a startling flash of beauty to boot. If Nico had done anything in his life that he could be proud of, it was saving Hazel. Hazel, who deserved to be loved and would be loved by anyone who met her. She made it seem easy even though Nico knew it wasn’t. Dark and rangy Nico di Angelo was unlikable enough already without the blood of the king of the dead compounding the issue.

And that suited Nico just fine. He knew he wasn’t a pleasant person to be around on most days. Nico certainly didn’t blame anyone for getting annoyed with him, or frustrated, or creeped out. Even Nico felt that way about himself pretty regularly. When people were nice to him, it was more of a reflection on their character than anything Nico did to give them a high opinion. (People like dumb Percy Jackson who was so inherently good that he would again and again try to save his greatest enemy rather than kill them at first opportunity like Nico would have and would never get mad at Nico and took all the blame on even though it was Nico’s fault because even though Percy didn’t like to be the hero, he was the greatest hero Nico would ever know. And Nico would never really hate Percy for being so kind to him in all of his times of need, even when he had wanted to with all his heart. And even if Nico didn’t like like Percy anymore, Nico would always like Percy Jackson and consider him one of his greatest friends and allies. Though Percy never needed to know that.)

But hearing that from Will Solace made him feel…well, he was flattered honestly. Confused, sure. Wary, yes. Nico had no clue where Will had gotten the idea in his head, but he was flattered because it had been, well, a nice thing to say. An unwarranted and undeserved compliment, but Will Solace was a nice person. And Nico knew from just knowing Will for a couple hours that Will was one of those people who could find a glimmer of goodness in anybody, and that was an admirable trait. So if Will thought he was likable, though it was misguided, Nico had to believe he said it out of kindness.

“Thank you,” Nico admitted awkwardly, twisting his ring around his finger. Mostly because he really didn’t know what to say, and denying the compliment would have been rude to a person who had only been nice to him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Will said with a fond look, giving Nico’s hand a pat. Nico resisted the urge to jump back and nurse his hand as if he had been burned. “Alright, I’m going to start cleaning the wounds. It’ll probably sting a bit—oh wait, before that, I’ll give you some nectar and ambrosia.”

“That stuff doesn’t really work on me,” Nico told him.

“Unicorn draught?” Will offered and Nico shrugged. “Coach Hedge’s medicinal gum?”

Nico winced, and Will chuckled.

“Alright, gum it is,” Will said as he reached to grab a box.

“That stuff tastes like peppermint and graveyard dirt,” Nico groaned as Will offered him a stick.

“Funny how you know that exact flavor. You sound like quite the connoisseur,” Will said, as Nico took the stick of gum.

“What can I say, it’s always bone-dry,” Nico added as he snapped the gum between his teeth, baring them to Will so he could see he was chewing.

“Was that a pun?” Will asked with a laugh that was bright and sudden. “Nico, son of Hades, likes to make puns.”

“Hey, I have to have some way to torture my unwilling victims,” Nico scoffed.

Both Will and Nico shared a something akin to a smile, something tentative and yet warm and natural. It was maybe an alliance? Something too fresh to be called a friendship or anything that extreme. But Nico got the sense that maybe Will Solace was someone he wouldn’t mind spending three days with.

“Hey,” Percy said as he sat down next to Nico. Nico was taking a sip from a water bottle, and regarded Percy curiously albeit slightly nervous.

“Hey,” Nico replied, fiddling with his water bottle.

For a few moments they just sat next to each other, side by side. Percy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and seemingly took a deep breath before peeking over at him. There was nothing angry in his gaze, nothing hurt. Instead, there was something kind there.

“I wanted to talk about things, but, I don’t know. Do you want to talk?” Percy asked him honestly, running a hand through his dark hair.

“I’m not good at talking.”

“I’ve had better conversationalists, sure. But there’s only one Nico,” Percy noted before looking ahead somewhere. Nico followed his gaze to the younger children playing Harpies and Hopscotch on the green. “You were like that, when we first met. A lot of energy.”

“I was not,” Nico protested weakly, Percy gave him a look and Nico groaned. “I was embarrassing. If this is you trying to make amends, bringing back my dark past is not the way to do it. You may know I wasn’t always a badass, but they don’t know that and I will kill you to shut you up.”

“Alright, alright,” Percy said as he help up his hands in surrender, his laughter bright and Nico found himself almost smiling. “You going to stay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Nico said as he twisted his ring. “I want to try living up here again. Give it a second chance.”

“Good. I’m glad,” Percy said. “Nico…I’m sorry. You went through a lot and…I didn’t make it easier for you.”

“You couldn’t control the fact I had a crush on you.”

“But still. I’m sorry.”

“…I forgive you,” Nico said, the words hard to sound out, but the moment they were out it felt as if the weight of the world was off his shoulders. Percy clapped his hand on Nico’s shoulder and squeezed. Nico rolled his eyes and elbowed him.

“…Will Solace though, huh?” Percy commented.

Percy yelped as Nico dumped the Gatorade in his water bottle over his head.

Nico pressed up on the balls of his feet.

He wasn’t tall, this he would grudgingly admit. But Nico stretched and reached, curling his fingers in the sleeve of Will’s sweatshirt.

Nico kissed Will Solace, and he felt his eyes flutter shut. Their lips were pressed together, and Nico could almost feel his heart pounding in his head and he felt completely and utterly alive. It was delicious and it was a breathing magical thing between them and it was so good—impossibly good that Nico couldn’t believe that it was true. And Nico knew he wanted to do it again and again, wanted to drown Will Solace and his beautiful golden curls and warm grins that dimpled and the freckles on his golden skin and his hands that were gentle and kind with a thousands kisses.

In that moment Nico was made radiant, he was made daring, he was made foolish, he was made new by love (though he couldn’t admit it yet, not yet, but maybe soon, maybe again).

Will Solace cupped Nico’s cheek, tracing his thumb over Nico’s skin, and shivered into the kiss. When they parted, Nico’s breath was ragged and his mouth felt hot and Will’s eyes were the color of morning glories darkened and intense.

“I…wow,” Will Solace said with an appreciative whistle, and Nico couldn’t help but feel his mouth quirk. “That was…that was perfect.”

“Stop that,” Nico said, unable to help the fact he was suddenly embarrassed by the intensity of his thoughts. Nico felt his entire face explode into heat from his neck to the tips of his ears.

“It totally was,” Will said with a dreamy smile that looked love-struck, and Nico could tell he was being completely serious and yet, somehow, that was even worse.

“I was awful,” Nico argued weakly, kicking a rock with the toe of his boot.

“You definitely weren’t, here, feel my heart beat,” Will said as he suddenly grabbed Nico’s hand and pressed it to his chest. And suddenly Nico could feel it, the way Will’s heart fluttered against his ribs, and his fingers twitched. “See? You’ve made my heart race!”

“You…I see,” Nico admitted as he swallowed nervously.

“So this means I like you, and you like me.”

“It does,” Nico conceded. Trying not to let it show how happy he was when Will said the words out loud, that Will Solace liked Nico di Angelo and Nico di Angelo liked Will Solace. It was right, in a terrifying way.

“That makes me ridiculously happy,” Will said as he curled his hand around Nico’s and pulled it from his chest, he held their hands intertwined together between them. “You make me ridiculously happy.”

“You make me happy too,” Nico told him, as he squeezed Will’s hand back.

Nico was. He really was.

#Solangelo #solangelo fanfiction #pjo fanfiction #Nico di Angelo #Will Solace #Percy Jackson #Annabeth Chase

92 notes · View notes

thelastdivide · 7 years

Text

The Prince of Judah and the Vice-Consul of Japan

In December 1939, an eleven-year-old Jewish boy named Solly Ganor invited a stranger to his family’s Hanukkah celebration at their home in Kaunas, Lithuania– then the capital city. Solly had gone into a little shop owned by his aunt to borrow a couple of coins to see the newest Laurel and Hardy movie. He found his aunt deep in conversation, speaking Russian with a tall, elegantly dressed Japanese man– the first Asian person Solly had ever seen. His aunt introduced him formally as “His Excellency Chiune Sugihara, the Vice-Consul from Japan.” Solly would have been intimidated, but he felt an aura of kindliness around the stranger. He shook hands with Sugihara and then told his aunt he wanted to go to the movies. Before she could move, Sugihara had pulled out his coin purse and given Solly the money. Solly, a little confused but grateful, responded in kind. He invited Sugihara to their Hanukkah dinner. His aunt was embarrassed and assured the diplomat he was under no obligation to attend. But Sugihara cut her off. “Actually,” he said, “I’d love to.”

It was in one of the darkest winters in human history that Chiune Sugihara joined his Jewish neighbors to hear and celebrate the Festival of Lights’ ancient message of hope and perseverance against all odds, a message that Sugihara needed as much as any of them. Just two months prior, the Nazis had invaded Poland. The large and thriving Jewish community in Kaunas had followed Hitler’s rise closely and listened to his hateful rhetoric on the radio, but they assumed that the worst of the rumors were exaggerated, and the Nazi threat would blow over quickly. Now, thousands upon thousands of Polish Jewish refugees were flooding over the western border into Lithuania, bringing with them reports of atrocities too terrible to imagine. Ghettos in the cities. Pogroms in the villages. Wholesale slaughter of their friends, neighbors, and families. Most had escaped with little or nothing, and the Jewish community of Kaunas was stretching its resources to the limit to take them in. Meanwhile, the Soviet Union had occupied tiny Lithuania and dissolved its government, building up its “buffer strip” against the inevitable German advance. It wasn’t a matter of if the war would come to Kaunas, but when. By the summer of 1940, all but two foreign diplomats had been evacuated from the city, leaving only Sugihara and a middle-manager from the Phillips corporation who had been made temporary consul for the Netherlands.

By this time, the Jewish refugees in Lithuania and elsewhere had applied to nearly every country in the free world– including the United States– but all had stopped or severely restricted their acceptance of refugees. To our everlasting shame, we ignored the cry of the helpless and turned our backs on the needy. In March 1939, a Congressional bill that would have allowed 20,000 German Jewish children to immigrate was allowed to die in committee. This was just a few months after Kristallnacht; there was no secret about the threat to Jews who remained in Germany. But we had strict immigration quotas to maintain. In June 1939, 907 Jewish refugees aboard the German transatlantic liner St. Louis made it all the way to Miami harbor, only to be sent back to Europe, where nearly a third of them were murdered in the Holocaust. An executive order could have permitted their entry into the U.S., but 83% of the public was against it, and President Roosevelt had a third term to win. Everyone from the FBI to FDR invoked “national security,” suggesting it was possible– likely, even– that some of the ship’s passengers were Nazi spies masquerading as refugees.

With so much of the western world under Nazi control or turning a blind eye, the two diplomats left in Kaunas had a full-blown refugee crisis on their hands. Lithuania’s Baltic ports were blockaded. The only safe escape route was eastward across Russia to Japan, from whence they could safely sail to resettlement. But the Soviet officials refused to let the refugees cross Russia without visas approved by the Japanese government.

So it was that Chiune Sugihara and his family woke up one morning to find a crowd of hundreds outside their door, begging for assistance with this last-ditch escape effort. Sugihara wired his superiors in Tokyo three times. He got three ambiguous refusals. They told him to stop asking. Sugihara was left alone, with the fate of thousands in his hands.

A story: According to a classic midrash, when the Israelites arrived at the shores of the sea after their exodus from slavery in Egypt, the waters didn’t immediately part for them. Actually, no one knew what would happen. With the open ocean ahead and Pharaoh’s army behind, they were trapped. An argument broke out. Some said, “We should surrender. Better to go back into slavery than for all of us to be killed.” Others said, “We should fight. If we’re going to die, we’ll die free.” Even Moses, the fearless miracle worker, was at a loss. The people turned on him. “Have you brought us all the way out here only to die?” they asked. He turned aside from the group and went up on a little hill to pray.

Amid all this, a man named Nachshon stepped forward. He was a prince from the tribe of Judah, a leader. But on this occasion he said nothing. He simply walked, directly into the sea, and began to sing praises to God. The water came up to his knees and soaked his robes. It rose to his waist, then to his chest. The waves washed over his head, but he could still be heard, singing clearly between the swells. Finally, he slipped under and was heard no more. The whole congregation of Israel fell silent. It was then that God turned to Moses and said, “Look! My child, my beloved, is drowning in the sea, and you’re standing here praying? I gave you the power to perform miracles. I gave you your staff. Use it!”

And Moses lifted his staff. The waters of the sea parted, and Nachshon led the way to freedom.

Chiune Sugihara was a career diplomat and a man of strict discipline. He had a family to provide for. He knew that if he acted outside of his orders he risked firing and disgrace. But he later recalled being haunted by a Japanese proverb: “Even a hunter cannot kill the bird that flies to him for refuge.” Refugees were begging at his door, even kneeling to kiss his shoes. “The people in Tokyo were not united,” he said later. “I felt it silly to deal with them. So, I made up my mind not to wait for their reply.” The visas would be written.

For the next 30 days Sugihara and his wife, Yukiko, worked 18 to 20 hours a day, until their hands were raw and aching and they were nearly collapsing of exhaustion. They produced upwards of 300 visas– what would typically be a month’s workload– every day. Solly Ganor recalled seeing his friend Sugihara in the last days of his monumental effort– the dignified, elegant vice-consul standing outside in his shirtsleeves, haggard, eyes bloodshot, handing out visas. According to some eyewitnesses he was still writing visas and throwing them out of the train’s windows when he and his family were finally forced to evacuate.

Chiune Sugihara saved over 6,000 Jewish refugees from the Holocaust. It’s estimated that there are over 45,000 people alive today– their descendants– who would not exist had it not been for a mild-mannered diplomat’s extraordinary courage and fidelity to his own conscience. The Talmud tells us, “Whoever saves one life, saves an entire world.” As he expected, Sugihara was fired from the Japanese diplomatic service after the war. He spent the rest of his career working as a translator for various private companies. Ever humble, he did not talk about his heroic deeds. His own neighbors had no idea what he’d done until his death in 1986, when a massive Jewish delegation-- including the Israeli ambassador to Japan-- showed up at his funeral.

Solly Ganor, incidentally, was unable to escape Lithuania and ended up in Dachau concentration camp, where he survived to the end of the war. Ironically, the camp was liberated by a battalion of Japanese-American soldiers– men whose families were interned in their own country.

Since the issuance of last Friday’s abominable executive order I have seen a million and a half moralisms about welcoming the stranger, helping the helpless, and refusing to fear difference. These are indispensable values, foundational to the maintenance of an open and healthy society, and they bear endless repetition.

But that’s not what I want to say here. We already know the ban is wrong. We already know that “national security” is a false flag for the workings of hatred and greed. We already condemn the culture of fear that has turned so much of our country against its own principles– although we can never condemn it loudly enough. But what we need to have constantly before us, now more than ever, is the example of people like Chiune Sugihara. People like Nachshon. People who know that God and public opinion will follow a true act of conscience, not vice versa.

Someday long in the future the descendants of Syrian refugees will not thank us for our political memes or our late-night comedy bits or our private exasperation. They won’t thank us for impotent prayers of the mind without acts of the body and heart. They won’t thank me for writing this.

But they will thank us for our deeds. They will thank us for hounding the authorities, no matter how many times we’re rejected, and defying them if they fail us. They will thank us for protecting our immigrant neighbors, for meeting injustice with ferocious and creative resistance, for showing up, for hitting the streets, for donating, for volunteering, for putting all our strength of arm and heart and brain into every task, no matter how small, that our lives demand of us in the struggle to heal our broken world. There is no such thing as an insignificant action or an insignificant life. You don’t have to be a diplomat. You don’t have to be an immigration lawyer. You don’t have to be the Prince of Judah or the Vice-Consul of Japan. All that is asked of you is to live the life before you, and live it well, with open eyes, a courageous spirit, and an undivided heart. Don’t wait for anyone, human or divine, to light the fire of justice. Your deeds are both the spark and the smoke.

The great second-century Jewish sage Rabbi Tarfon would say, “We are not obligated to complete the task before us, but neither are we free to abandon it.” Do not be daunted by the magnitude of human suffering. Start where you are. Start now.

Sources:

"An Interview with Solly Ganor, September 1998." Interview by Diane Estelle Vicari. Sugihara: Conspiracy of Kindness. WGBH/PBS, n.d. Web.<http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/sugihara/readings/ganor.html>

"Chiune Sugihara." The Jewish Virtual Library. American-Israeli Cooperative Enterprise, n.d. Web. 01 Feb. 2017. <http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/chiune-sugihara>.

"Chiune (Sempo) Sugihara." United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, n.d. Web. 01 Feb. 2017 <https://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/article.php?ModuleId=10005594>.

"Voyage of the St. Louis." United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, n.d. Web. 01 Feb. 2017 <https://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/article.php?ModuleId=10005267>

#chiune sugihara #sempo sugihara #refugees #holocaust #wwii history #writing #long post

6 notes · View notes

courtneycampbell · 6 years

Text

My Calais Volunteer Journal

Sunday 12th August-Arrived in Calais

Monday 13th August-Started in the kitchen drying dishes and then went to ‘Sew Ho’ (a section of the warehouse where people repair donations that would otherwise would not be fit for distribution) and learnt to bring in the waist of trousers. Police were sitting in a car outside my accommodation in the morning, a former refugee who had been given asylum in the UK was coincidentally staying at house at this time.

Tuesday 14th August-Went to the sexual abuse training from Rape Crisis UK in the morning, told to not ask ‘why’ questions, but ask if they're safe and if they say no ask; how they can make it safe (buddies system etc.), not to take on their problem but imagine they throw you a ball you hold it for a bit but give it back, don't go and follow up with them about what they told you as that you then taking control of the situation when the control should be with them but tell them you are open for them to come and speak again, tell them before you start speaking how long you have to chat and then spent the rest of the day sorting donations and helping to put up tents. Dinner and then went to beach meet other volunteers.

Wednesday 15th August-Spent morning in the kitchen chopping vegetables then warehouse and sewed a couple sleeping bags so they could be distributed. Then started loading van for distribution to Dunkirk, police stationed outside camp stopped us but didn't check our passports, had to walk behind main food van so the children didn't climb up on it, mainly young men but also surprising number of children and a few women. Started serving and then chatted to people after, not meant to hug children but hi five as don't want to get too familiar as you will leave and could confuse/upset them. One young guy was speaking to another volunteer and telling her how he had been living in Germany for 3 years but then Asylum revoked and so back at the camp. Lots of kids and men wanting to help us if somethings heavy etc. We packed up and then got back to warehouse, washed inside van etc then debriefed and went home. Also told that around two years ago a lot of people wanted to go to the UK however due to the attitude of people there they want to go to Germany or Nordic countries as they're kinder to them.

Thursday 16th August-Continued the ripped sleeping bag in Sew Ho, a volunteer told me that one of the camps during the night was tear gassed, apparently a regular thing in both Dunkirk and Calais to get people to move from their tent.

Friday 17th August-Finished sleeping bag!! In the morning there had been another clearing by police.

Saturday 18th August-Another clearing from police in the camps in Calais- not usually happening on weekends but police have amped up on clearing. Repairing sleeping bags in sew Ho, sewing on missing buttons onto donated trousers and cardigans. Sewing holes in winter coats. Field Training for aid distributions. Sorting through donations and helping to clean the kitchen.

Sunday 19th August-Day off

Monday 20th August -In the kitchen washing dishes, chopping veg and wilting spinach. Distribution to Calais Camp at 5pm, much more chilled than Dunkirk however two sites and completely different ethnic backgrounds.

Tuesday 21st August-Day spent doing laundry and rinsing jerry cans.

Wednesday 22nd August-Spent day between sorting donations and sew ho, repaired holes in coats.

Thursday 23rd August-In the kitchen chopping veg, two evictions by the police one in Dunkirk and another in one of the camps in Calais. Told by a volunteer that the police come and generally allow people to gather their stuff and then load them into a van and drive them to Lille which is about an hour away drive and offer some accommodation but not enough for everybody and so they are all let go and walk back to Calais (women and children too). U.K. Detention centers only ones in Europe without a time limit on how long people stay there and then just let them go as too expensive to deport them and then tend lock them up again. Told about a woman in UK were border control knocked down her door at 4am and dragged her by feet into a van in her pjs and locked up for 3 months, then door opened, and she had to guess if she was free to go (didn’t speak much English) she then started her life up again and then happened twice more. Update at 10pm some of Dunkirk camp had been bulldozed.

Friday 24thAugust-day off

Saturday 25thAugust-Spent whole day in kitchen, chatted with the info bus about asylum. The first thing that's done when a refugee comes into the country to ask for asylum is have their finger print taken, if they have been in a European country before the UK they will be that countries responsibility and then the UK contact them and say tell us if you don't want them back, if they just don't respond then they still send them. Italy very prompt with taking finger prints yet don't want refugees, UK and France more lax- possible that Greece pressures Italy as they have a big population of refugees and unstable economy and a lot of refugees enter first through Italy? Better for minors to seek asylum and not just the partial asylum (can't remember proper term) until they're 18 as less likely to get it. People I spoke to said they had met people in the camps who had grew up in UK and went to our schools and then they got to the age of 18 and were sent back to official country of birth despite maybe having no family there or memory of it.

Sunday 26thAugust-Day in the kitchen, distribution to the two camps in Calais, raining a lot and cold; lot of the guys had no coats and used a bin bag to shelter themselves. Overall it was a Chilled distribution with one guy in second camp, playing music that kept the vibe up, speaking to people that spoke up to 5 languages and couldn't believe how most of distribution volunteers only spoke English, got back at 9pm.

0 notes

haggertyadventuretime · 6 years

Text

Laos, continued.

This is a long one!

Still in Laos!

Internet connections in this country are basically nonexistent, it’s been hard to find a connection strong and long enough to post anything on here/Facebook/instagram!

We stayed in Muong Ngoi for two nights, and it rained basically the whole time. There are no paved roads which meant it got very muddy very fast and we decided not to do any trekking since the temperature was much lower than expected and we hadn’t packed anything warm enough to deal with it... We spent most of our time cuddled under blankets those two days!

We did end up running into the most unpleasant traveler, which is honestly surprising given how nice and relaxed most people are around here, Lao and tourist alike. I’m going to call him the Mad Scotsman, because this dude had a chip on his shoulder about pretty much everything. He became famous in our small village pretty quickly, as he generally just invites himself to your table and starts spewing insults about your heritage/country/accent whatever he can learn about you but tries to keep you in the conversation. A very nice German man whom we befriended, Christian, had taken the time to get to know him and apparently the Mad Scotsman had been fighting in east Ukraine? Unsure how or why, also he was super young and loud, which to me screams the opposite of a mercenary. We luckily only had to talk to him twice, but got to talk to Christian much more!

We decided to skip the long boat journey and instead take the one hour boat ride back to Nong Khiaw and a bus to Udoumxai, then the next morning a bus to Luang Namtha. Udoumxai is a Chinese trading town, and we were hoping for some good dim sum and markets but didn’t really find anything except a live music bar with a larger-than-life Spider Man hanging from the ceiling.

Luang Namtha was a very nice town! It’s right near a large jungle preserve with many hill tribes, and once again, ethnic minorities. We were touted once again by women with their handicrafts, although these ladies could learn a thing or two from the tribes in Sa Pa, because they weren’t organized or aggressive at all.

We stayed in Luang Namtha for two nights. On our first night, as we were eating at the night market, who walks in but Christian! Yay! He had come a different way from Moung Ngoi. We sampled the local Lao Lao whiskey at $0.25/shot and had some laughs about the Mad Scott.

The next day was beautiful, so we rented a couple of (very uncomfortable) mountain bikes and had a ride around the area. We ran into Christian, who impressed us with his biking ability given that the roads were very rocky (we were walking our mountain bikes), and here comes Christian, 61, on a road cruiser with a basket on the front, just slowly pedaling uphill with a giant smile on his face. We said hello and continued our separate ways, this time me and Brendan on the bikes. The sun came out after a while on the paved roads, and the views of mountains behind rice paddies full of water buffalo were quite amazing. We also found a beer garden in the middle of nowhere that was BLASTING music but had no one in it, just two 15 year old girls in the DJ booth. We had a beer (which was very confusing to them) and continued through rice paddies and dirt roads to see some small villages, then looped back after a few hours. That night we had one last drink with Christian, who was moving on to Thailand the next day, and we exchanged emails so that the next time I’m in Germany I could hit him up. He lives in the Rhinegau, an area famous for Rieslings!

The next day we started a two day, one night trekking tour through jungles to a remote hill tribe village. The trekking was the hardest hike I have ever done. On the first day, we had some bad luck with mud, Since it had rained a few days before and the jungle retains its wetness. We were sometimes going down areas so steep and so muddy that I would straight up just sit down and slide on the mud. Other areas were going along slippery cliffs about two feet across with nothing but thorny bushes to catch yourself on if you slipped! I was having issues with my depth perception and elephant-like grace, and our wonderful guide-in-training made me a very sturdy walking stick which helped a lot. It was very beautiful in the jungle, but our guide walked very fast and Brendan and I struggled to keep up with the group, so we generally watched our feet more than we did the surroundings. We had lunch on the floor of the jungle, eating with our hands off banana leaves.

We finally arrived in the village, which is a Kmhmu tribe, about 250 people. The guide had brought a bag of knit children’s wool clothing and hats that a couple from New Zealand had made and donated to the village, and he started sorting and handing it all out. It was pretty cool watching the whole village crowd around with the kids to get their size, and they immediately put the new clothes on and started strutting their stuff. I had the impression that these people don’t have more than one or two changes of clothing each, so getting warm clothes is a big deal for them with the cold winter approaching. Like many remote places in Laos, they only just got access to running water through a humanitarian aid project from Germany, and electricity is powered by generators for only a few hours a day. No water heaters, no insulation, nothing but a fire outside and blankets to keep you warm.

Unfortunately, we didn’t get a whole lot of interaction with the villagers, we ate in the homestay separately from everyone else, but with the guides and the couple whose house we were sleeping in. Turns out the husband is actually the chief of the village! He brought us a bag of Lao Lao whiskey, poured it into an empty bottle of beer, and started rounds of shots for everyone. Not surprisingly, Brendan and I held our liquor much better than the rest. They may be better hikers, but we know how to party!

The next morning before the hike back to Luang Namtha, we visited the village’s school. Brendan and I had planned ahead and had brought pens and pencils for the kids, just enough it turns out! It felt nice handing them out to the kids, I only wish we had brought more. We visited two other villages, another Kmhmu tribe as well as another whose name I forget, but the third village was even poorer and the villagers wore their traditional costumes. We watched as the women spun cotton and potato fibers into thread, then had one very, very steep climb to get home. It was not as technically difficult as the day before in terms of obstacles, just hours of climbing up mountains, and then down.

When we got back, and after thoroughly showering and finding a place that does “fast laundry” (first place I’ve seen a dryer in SE Asia!), Brendan took a nap for the rest of the day and night, and I went to a local herbal sauna and massage place. It was pretty cool to enjoy such a cultural experience and being the only foreigner. My masseuse was very good, Lao massage is Thai influenced and involves twisting your body into pretty active positions, fully clothed, and in the middle of the rickety shack where people are coming and going, in and out of the sauna and to and from the woman’s house. At one point, she was using two hands and a foot to massage me, while quoting a price to a local for the sauna, and also directing her seven year old to remove his four year old brother from the premises. Not atmospheric in the way I’m used to a massage, but she really made my muscles relax, and for $4.50 for a 45 minute massage and unlimited herbal sauna after, you really can’t beat it.

Next, we travelled to Huayxai, which is across the Mekong River from the Thailand border. We could see the sun set over the Thai mountains! This is also the city that The Gibbon Experience is based out of. We signed up for the three day, two night “Classic Experience,” a big splurge that we had been looking forward to for a while! I was definitely a little scared: I am afraid of heights, and I’ve never gone on a zip line before, and this place boasts the tallest tree houses in the world that you sleep in, and some of the longest and tallest zip lines as well.

I ended up really enjoying it! It involved more jungle trekking, but not nearly as difficult as the previous trekking experience in Luang Namtha. We also had the luxury of zip lining any downhill area, basically! You really feel line you’re flying, and seeing the jungle canopy from above was very cool.

We shared a tree house with a family of four from Montreal, two parents and their nine and seven year olds. They are on a six month trip, which Brendan and I wished them luck on. Currently, they are a month in, having been to Myanmar, and some of Thailand, KL and Shanghai. The kids had a great time, and our guide was excellent with them. Sometimes, the zip lines were too long for the kids to go alone, so the guides would zip with them, which they loved. Sometimes the zip lines were too long even for us adults to get through, so you would have to grab the line once you’ve slowed down and, while upside down, use your hands and feet to climb the rest of the way! That was quite the workout!

We never saw any wildlife save for birds and squirrels, probably partially due to the fact that we were staying with a seven year old boy. That was a bit of a shame, but apparently it’s pretty rare to see the gibbons. One group saw them from far away in their tree house, and the little girl in our tree house may have seen one in the early morning as she was using the bathroom. There are no walls or windows in the tree houses, just railings and the occasional privacy curtain, so it’s quite the panorama of jungle, even if you’re taking a shower!

We got back, quite gratified and happy as well as pretty done with jungle trekking. Been there, done that. We took a two day slow boat from Huayxai to Luang Prabang with an overnight stopover in Pakbeng. This is the point in our journey when we started being two of many tourists, which I had not missed. Unfortunately, tourism has started lots of touts in Pakbeng, as it lies in the “golden triangle” for both tourists and drugs. Within seconds of getting off the boat, we were both propositioned for marijuana and opium, sometimes by children! Not the first time we have been propositioned for either in our trip thus far, but definitely the youngest so far. Obviously the answer was no.

The trips on the boats both days were much more comfortable than we had expected. The seats were basically ripped out of minivans and just bolted to pieces of wood that kept them somewhat upright on the floor of the boat, but not stable at all. We brought snacks and beer, and there was a snack and beer bar on the boat (at very inflated prices) as well as a toilet. The views from the Mekong were absolutely stunning, with dense jungle and the occasional tiny village. Like any public transportation in Laos, there were many unscheduled pickups and drop offs along the way, including picking up and dropping off people in Thailand! On the second day, there were some well organized school children ready for our boat to pull over with bracelets and purses to sell. They waded into the water, waist deep for them, and touted their goods for the three minutes it took to unload our cargo at that stop. Kind of funny that the girls are working he whole time, while on the other side of the pier, the boys of the same age are playing games on a canoe and swimming.

Yesterday, the sixth, we arrived back in Luang Prabang. This morning, we hopped on a bus for a six to seven hour scenic ride to Vang Vieng, a scenic river town known for its raucous partying and tubing among backpackers. Luckily the government stepped in a few years ago to ease the craziness... if you google Vang Vieng you can very easily find out what I’m talking about. We are going for tubing (sans death swings and booze buckets) and fabulous views. The bus we are on right now is full of very annoying middle aged tourists who spent a lot of time complaining about their seats, when this is the most comfortable bus we have been on yet. It even has seat belts! Nothing to clip them into, but it’s the thought that counts, hahaha.

Actually, the views from the bus were spectacular, despite the constant twisting and turning of the precarious roads. The mountains changed from rolling hills to craggy limestone, almost like Ha Long Bay without all the water! Now we have made it to Vang Vieng and are enjoying some creature comforts for the evening, tomorrow we will be enjoying the out of doors in the hot weather!

0 notes

3one3 · 7 years

Text

The Sequel - 817

Omaha

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

“This show really blows. They need to stop letting the Americans bid for things. Did Schü call? I wish I had taken my phone with me. It was so boring over there. I could have done with some tunes,” Christina remarked resentfully as she kicked off her stirrups and slid down to the ground from her tall and rotund Hanoverian stallion. Nick seemed to be enjoying the reclamation of his place in her competition rotation after the intermediate-length absence from the circuit. He was a happy boy when he landed in Omaha, as if he hadn’t just spent 11 hours in a box on a plane. Rio, his traveling companion, was always thrilled to be getting off a plane, but his happiness was usually heavily made up of relief and not much excitement. Christina and Tom could tell the difference. Nick was perky and affectionate right away. Rio acted as if stress was melting away. He never flew particularly well, and a trip that long was hard on him. Nevertheless, the Brazilian bred warmblood was sitting in second place in the World Cup Final after the first round on Thursday night, and was calm and relaxed in his stall with plenty of hay and his favorite stuffed animal on Friday afternoon when his rider returned Nick to Tom after a brief hack. Nick only had one competitive event the entire week, and it was Saturday, so Christina took him over to the schooling ring to stretch his legs that afternoon before the dressage final started.

The only two redeeming qualities about the horse show venue in Nebraska were the ambient temperature inside, and the food. It was warm enough to ride in a long-sleeve top without additional layers, which was why she didn’t have her phone with her, and there was a vendor right in the convention center part of the facility with standard Midwest-ernized German food. Many Americans in the Midwest fancy themselves the children of generations of German immigrants, whether they really are or not. As a consequence, lots of flyover territory is full of vaguely German restaurants with food that sort of nods at authentic cuisine but definitely Americanizes it. An American bratwurst is nothing like one at Signal Iduna Park, for example, but Christina loved both kinds. She loved the potato pancakes that were closer to a McDonald’s hashbrown than her dad’s kartoffelpuffer. Tom looked like he’d had too many of them when she handed over Nick’s double set of reins. She furrowed her brows at him, silently inviting an explanation for the positively perturbed look on his face. He exchanged her iPhone for the reins.

“I think there is some bad news,” he replied, apologetic. Oh no, his rider thought. Is he not going to play? She was eagerly waiting to hear from André about whether or not he was fit enough to be in the team for the match against Schalke on Saturday. Obviously everyone wanted to play in the Revierderby. He really, really wanted to play because he scored two goals for Germany the weekend before and thought he could carry some momentum over. His wife was rooting for him. Unfortunately he was also carrying over a painful knock sustained early in that match, and hadn’t been able to train with his club again yet. She thumbed the Home button and quickly scanned the variety of notifications on the screen, expecting Tom to provide an explanation for his response. He was supposed to answer if André called.

“Oh no.” Her own response was more grave than the disappointed version of the one she said in her head a few seconds earlier. “Juan Mata could be out for the rest of the season? What? What the hell?” She swiped urgently at the Bleacher Report notification to find out what was going on, and tried to deduce it while the news article loaded. What could have possibly happened to him in training today that he’s already diagnosed and going to be out forever? Did someone break his leg or something? What the hell.

“Did he call you or anything?” her new stable manager questioned. He was already trying to get the big warmblood into his grooming stall so he could untack him and put him away. He knew her more than well enough to know that she would be very upset for the Spaniard if he were really going to miss the rest of the season, and he knew her more than well enough to know that a serious injury to the player likely would have come up as a talking point between them if she knew about it. Christina told him nearly everything on her mind when they were alone on the road, especially when they were together so much. Almost none of her friends were in Omaha. She spent nearly all of her time hanging around the stalls, except for meals, which she sometimes shared with Marcus and Ludger instead since Tom was often working while she was free to eat.

“Bleacher Report says that he had groin surgery today. How? I just talked to him last night! It must be a mistake. I’m calling him.” She furiously but absently stroked Nick’s nose while she waited for her friend to pick up, and then growled aloud when she got his voicemail. “Is it tomorrow in the UK already or something?” she asked, forlorn. “Is it April Fool’s Day already? This can’t be right. Is it all over Twi-“ A text interrupted her rant and the loading of the Twitter app on her phone.

“I’ll call you soon,” Juan told her.

“He would have said it’s wrong and he’s fine if it were wrong and he’s fine. He just said he’d call me back. Maaaan. If he got hurt today he couldn’t possibly have the surgery today too, right? Nobody does that.”

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t think so. He didn’t say anything about an injury?”

“Not a word. We talked last night before I rode, and he texted me this morning to congratulate me.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to worry you. You are talking about someone who lied to you about Seven being put down the last time we were at one of these,” Tom pointed out. He too was guilty of keeping things from her so as to keep her plate clear, so to speak, but that hypocrisy didn’t seem to matter to him, or was outweighed by his longtime dislike of Christina’s relationship with the Chelsea man.

“Nothing from Schü though?” They can’t both be injured. Jeez.”

“Nope.”

“I’ll wait for Juan to call me back and then I’ll call him, so I don’t end up with both of them at the same time.” Shudder.

“Whatever. Take your helmet and your boots off and relax. There is nothing you can do for injured football players on another continent by worrying about them and staring at a phone.”

That is a reasonable point. I’ll go change, she thought before dropping a kiss on her pretty stallion’s nose and leaving him and his handler to their business. I have to put the watch that I won for this last year on anyway before I go to the autograph table. Bleh. I appreciate fans and all but this isn’t a sport for or funded by spectators, and I’m forever afraid I’m going to get sick because they all want to hug me and shit. Or I’ll get Lukas sick. These Midwestern American folk are all really huggy. I bet nobody tries to hug me in Mexico City. Oh! Phone!

“Dude, what’s going on?” she sputtered into Juan’s ear while simultaneously tripping over a lunge whip and her own foot.

“I had a bad pain in training some days ago, we decided the surgical option to fix it is best, and now I have a while to recover,” he explained like a father trying to reassure his very young daughter that yes, the dinosaurs did go extinct, but her stuffed one survived and is fine, and no, he doesn’t miss his extinct family. He sounded very calm. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to distract from what you’re doing there, and because I’m fine. I’m disappointed that I won’t play for a while, but I’m feeling okay and there is no need for you to worry, or try to come home, or be overwhelmed with sadness on my behalf.”

“But how long is a while?” Christina despaired.

“Three, four weeks.”

“Oh. Well, gosh. The Internet made it sound like an eternity! I’m so relieved, Juanin, you have no idea.” She released a long, pent up breath and plopped on her tack trunk. Heiner’s familiar whistle was audible somewhere up the aisle and she was glad to be on the phone because it meant he might not try to talk to her. The Germany boss had been annoying her all week with mini-interrogations about her life, her training, and why she was systematically severing ties with various advertisers. He’d been so hands-off with her throughout the winter that there was a gulf between her willingness to open up to him and his willingness to advise her. Even she knew he was asking the questions so that he could help her or guide her through if she was having some kind of problem that made her want to scale back her associations with brands. It was just difficult for her to do a heart to heart about it. The rider thought of all their broad-spectrum conversations as a process- as her warming up to being able to unload the full state of the union address on him, so to speak.

Tom overheard a lot of those talks, and he was encouraging her to let the chef know exactly what was going on with her, from her homesickness to her questions about Dirk’s form and fitness, and even her relationship struggles. The groom was even more intimately acquainted with her problems than in the past since he was with her every day instead of just at competitions. He was an observant creature, like Christina, and didn’t need to have things spelled out for him. She argued that it couldn’t possibly be wise to clue the team coach in on all of her problems a few months before he would sit down with Holger to make a final decision on the Olympic team, and Tom argued back that she needed to let go of the idea that Heiner was like a supervisor she needed to avoid while sneaking out early at the end of the day, or coming back from lunch 15 minutes late. He said she needed to stop treating him like an enemy that she had to negotiate with explicitly and with subtle diplomatic maneuvers in public. Tom said Heiner was there to help, and that he sought information so he could be most useful to his riders, not so that he could use it against them. Christina didn’t 100% believe that, but she accepted that it was mostly true. She’d been burned by the man before and didn’t think she needed to share everything with him when everything included information that would make it harder for him to pick her.

“It’s just a little thing, cariña,” Juan reiterated reassuringly. “Just a small hernia. Two weeks to rest, and then I can start a little training.”

“Okay,” Christina replied, her voice quiet and private. I want Heiner to realize I’m on the phone, but I don’t want him hearing what I’m saying, she thought. Private. Her eyes were on the curtain concealing her in the stall. “Who is taking care of you? Did your mom come? Is Paula there? Is someone bringing you juice and making you food?”

“Yes, my mom was here anyway, and she’s looking after me,” the player chuckled. “It was a routine thing- the surgeon does a few every day. I’m just resting and watching TV. Do you want to speak to her to verify that everything is fine?”

“No. I trust you. I was just scared. You didn’t tell me,” his friend complained. “I was more concerned for your heart than your health. I was worried you’d be so upset not getting to play forever,” she mumbled. Her own heart felt a little funny, as it always did when she recovered slowly from a shock or a scare, real or imagined.

“My heart is fine, my head is fine, and my abdominal wall is reinforced and extra fine! Don’t worry about anything. Focus on what you’re doing there.”

“I miss you,” she said even more quietly. He had to have surgery and the time out is terrible news even if it’s only three weeks, and he’s thinking of me and my needs and my head. He’s such a good person. And a better one than me. I’d be wanting him to come take care of me and talk me out of wallowing in woe. I would want him and Schü both to wait on- Hey, wait-

“I miss you too, but I’m free to watch all of your riding now. What time tonight?”

“Is Taylor there? She probably doesn’t want to watch show jumping...”

“She’s with friends in Manchester.”

“She didn’t come back? Did you tell her?”

“We don’t see so much of each other right now. I told her, yes, but I don’t need her here to watch me rest either.”

“Oh.”

“I can’t talk more about that right now, cariña,” the recovering Spaniard added, his voice quiet too. “Another time.”

“Okay...” Are they done? He never talks about her anymore, regardless of who is sitting next to him on the couch.

“What time tonight?”

“2 am.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Christina laughed, forgetting the question on her mind. Juan sounded so thrown off. “You’re excused. You don’t have to watch. If it’s a great round, I’ll send it to you in the morning.”

“I’ll call you back again before you ride, okay? I have a few other people to get back to now.”

“Okay. Call or text any time if you’re bored resting. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby girl. Talk to you later.”

I bet his mom or dad or Toni or somebody was coming and going from nearby during that conversation, she reckoned. He was all quiet and hiding some things but then not others. Whatever. At least he’s okay and he isn’t going to be out of commission for the rest of the season. Phew. Now, boots and helmet off, and-

“Chris!”

Here we go. Heiner joined her in the tack room stall to chat while she changed her footwear and brushed out her hair. He just wanted to discuss a person he’d just met- an American trainer who he thought she might know, or know of. Christina knew the man well enough to say hello and how are you, and she knew enough of him to be able to give a decent account of his reputation up until she lost touch with the East Coast show scene not long after she moved to London. By the time André called to catch up and tell her that he wasn’t going to be in the team for Saturday, his girl had to head to that solo autograph session for the FEI. The line to meet her was ridiculous, and it didn’t flatter her at all. It simply made her groan into the phone about how long it would take to sign that many programs and posters. He told her to call him back after if she could. He was having dinner with his friend Dominic, who he’d known for at least twice as many years as he knew her.

“It’s going to be between 3 and 4 in the morning that she rides,” he told this friend, whom he met at his hometown youth club. Dominic lived in nearby Düsseldorf, and provided a companion with which to do things when Christina wasn’t around. Usually there was a third member at their boys’ dinner, but the other friend was unavailable on Friday since he did still play lower league football and had a match coming up. “I don’t know if I should try to stay up or if I should go to sleep early and then try to wake up.”

“You’re not going to stay up,” Dominic replied, assured. He was an inch or so taller than André, and spent more time lifting weights and less time running like his life depended on it. He easily reached across the table to point down into the other German’s wine glass, as if to say that the wine was going to put him to sleep.

“I could call Mel and make her talk to me so I don’t fall asleep,” André countered.

“When is the baby expected?”

“Next week. She’s having trouble sleeping now. That’s why I know she’ll be up. Her husband is with her but he’s supposed to go to the same shows as Chris after this weekend. He’s even more senseless than she is. Why would you go overseas when your wife is about to give birth?”

“You have no idea what it’s like to be around a woman about to give birth,” Dominic chuckled. His long time girlfriend’s sister had three kids, and André talked to him about where to take children in the area for fun or interesting outings when he was alone with Lukas. Dominic and the girlfriend did a decent amount of kid-sitting, so he figured he’d know.

“I don’t think Chris was bad enough that I would want to go away if I didn’t have to. I talked to her every day on the phone. She was frustrated and whiny but not that much more than usual, and she definitely didn’t have sleep problems. All she did was sleep and watch TV when she was this close. And tell my mom to leave her alone. I still regret that I wasn’t with her during the last weeks, and when Lukas was born.”

“Don’t schedule the next one to come during a tournament, then.”

“I don’t know if there is a next one.” André lowered his eyes from the conversation and grasped his chopsticks with more intent than before. “I know Chris wants Lukas to have a sibling, and she’s said many times that she wants the brother or sister to be around the same age. I don’t see her putting her riding on hold again any time soon.” Or wanting to have another baby with me while she’s walking around not even sure that we’re going to be together in the future, the BVB player added more bleakly to himself. He thought things were really feeling better between them when he left for international duty. That was nearly two weeks in the past, however, and as usual, being apart left room for doubts and disappointment. Hearing about how much fun was had trying to fit as much of Berlin as possible into two days with Juan, for example, was a small blow to the confidence with which André left Christina. Her constant reiteration that she wished Daniel were in Omaha was another annoying detractor from the sense of progress. He kept reminding himself that those things didn’t have to matter, or mean anything. He knew his relationship with her could be just fine even when she was having lots of fun with Juan, so he knew he shouldn’t worry that her having a good time with the Spaniard and her being happy with her partner might be mutually exclusive. He knew there was nothing going on between his girl and her teammate, so he knew he shouldn’t be upset that she just wished her friend were at the World Cup too. It was just irritating to be away from her, and unable to observe her and glean whatever he could from her behavior and demeanor the way he’d been doing at home. Paying attention to her and moderating his own behavior and demeanor instinctively in response was really helping to stamp out the accidental fights and flashpoints.

“I thought you want at least two?”

“I do, but who knows,” André shrugged, hoping to change the subject. “Which country to do you think has the most restaurants in the top 10? The big list, that everyone respects.”

“The US?” Dominic guessed. His right eyebrow dipped to indicate his surprise at the turn in conversation. André was waving a tuna roll around between his chopsticks, but it wasn’t like they were eating at the world’s best Japanese restaurant and had been discussing food. After deciding what to order, nobody even mentioned food.

“Spain. Chris told me that today. She’s lining up a pitch to spend our summer holiday taking the boat around Spain and Portugal. I don’t think she has any idea how big Spain is,” the player smiled, more to himself than his friend. “She wants to go to San Sebastian, which is practically in France but on the top, and Estoril way over there. They have a competition there.”

“The restaurants?”

“No, the horses, in July right after the Confederations Cup. Does Lena ever just start randomly bringing up things about places you think she might want to go to, while pointing out reasons to be there? Like every couple of days?”

“No. She picks a holiday and tells me where we’re going.”

“Oh. Actually...Chris does that too, but she also does the hints, for...lots of things.”

“You talk about her a lot more lately.” Dominic’s observation was plain and lacking any indication about how he felt about the fact he was relaying. André knew the reason he was amidst his third Christina conversation of dinner was that thinking about her, and her very name, was no longer igniting rage and hurt in the pit of his stomach. His partner wasn’t stressing him out so much anymore. He was able to think of her randomly throughout the day and focus on a positive or at least neutral issue or context rather than just negative ones. That actually marked a huge change from the last time she went away. It meant his state of mind stayed generally more neutral or positive, in spite of his boo-boo keeping him out of team training and the matchday squad. André found that encouraging as he thought it over and finished his sushi.

“I love loving you,” he tapped out to send to Christina when the plate was empty. Loving her can be so hard. Right now it’s just nice, I think.

0 notes

nigelwenttofrance-blog · 7 years

Text

“She Has A Tendency To Pee On Things That Are Older Than America”

Welcome back!

As I type these words, I’m very much in my happy place aboard a TGV flying towards Nîmes from Paris at almost 300 kph (~180 mph), and reminiscing on my past 3ish weeks. Lemme tell y’all, I’ve been just a traveling FOOL, and I’m not mad about it!

There are multiple trips recounted in this, so it’s split into three sections for the three different trips:

Berlin & Hamburg ✔️

Rome ✔️

Rotterdam ⁉️ (yes, I went back again) ✔️

Berlin and Hamburg

So as I said at the end of the previous post, I had planned a trip for me, by me to Germany as a birthday present to myself from, you guessed it, me, but also funded by my loving and incredibly generous parents. This was actually the first journey I’d ever taken completely on my own (apart from, you know, moving across an ocean to a foreign country all alone), and to say that I was nervous would be putting it mildly. I was genuinely scared that spending an entire weekend alone, going to a country I’d never been to before, without anyone who speaks English or French to help me if I get lost...let’s just say that my maternal paranoia (but also, in my case, my sororal paranoia) was kicking in. But, I had already booked the tickets and there were no refunds to be spoken of because lol #ryanair, so I pushed the fears to the back of my mind, and I’m really glad I did: it was an incredibly successful trip!

The journey started off in Toulouse after a train ride that was too early, even for me. Toulouse is a city I’d heard some good things about, and I was glad to be able to check another French city off my list, but I was really only interested in it because there was a makeup store that I’ve wanted to go to for the past couple years—Kryolan. Since I only had a few hours of a layover between train and plane, when I arrived in Toulouse, I wandered around aimlessly for an hour or so, found the makeup shop and got what I needed (banana setting powder, in case anyone was curious) and made my way to the airport.

You are crazy, my child. You must go to Berlin! — Franz von Suppé

Now, I have to say, as excited as I was for this trip as I was planning it, I’m not entirely sure what I was thinking when I decided to go to northeastern Germany in late January, especially after having lived in the south of France for 4 months. It vaguely occurred to me as we were landing that Berlin wouldn’t have the exact same climate as Nîmes, but I was very much unprepared for the gust of actual-winter air that greeted me as I walked off the plane. And what’s worse, there was SNOW. Again, not sure what I was thinking.

All that said, Berlin has definitely been added to my list of favorite cities! I stayed at an Airbnb (well technically it was a “MisterB&B,” which is basically Airbnb, but for gay men 😂 but for all intents and purposes, it was an Airbnb), but I barely spent anytime in the apartment, even though the hosts were very friendly and had ridiculously cute home—one of them was an interior decorator. #fulfillingstereotypes

Anyway, I chose the apartment/MisterB&B because I wanted to experience a city from a “gay” perspective, and the apartment was in the gay district of Berlin, Schöneberg. But when I got to the apartment it was well after sunset (AKA 5:15), so I decided to stay close to home so I could see the rest of the city in the daylight the next day. Schöneberg was still pretty lively when I finally left the apartment to explore. I wandered around the streets for a while, popped into a view stores, and eventually stopped to look at a menu outside of a burger joint that seemed pretty promising. I was just deciding to go in, when I turned to my right, and there was a man straight up staring at me. I quickly realized, however, he wasn’t really staring, but more waiting for me to respond as he had asked me a question that went unheard over the roar of Beyoncé in my ears: he had asked me to grab a drink with him. I contemplated the idea...this was incredibly random and sure enough, I felt my maternal/sororal paranoias coming into play, telling me no, go home, you don’t know him, or where he’s been, or what his motives are... but at the same time, I was very flattered. Isn’t this the kind of thing that happens in movies? Could this man be the man of my dreams? Would we fall in love and live in Berlin and raise babies* together (babies*=puppies)?! My paternal/fraternal “eh, why not?” sense had kicked in and I shrugged and said “Sure! Why not? Free alcohol is not something I’m opposed to!”

His name was Chris, and we walked around until we found a nice bar and we sat and chatted the night away. He was German and actually from Hamburg, in Berlin for work (but don’t ask me what he does, I’m sure I don’t remember.) Anyway, come midnight or so, he decided to call it quits as his train was leaving really early in the morning, and I was falling asleep as it was, having been awake since 4.30 in the morning. Alas, Chris did not turn out to be the man of my dreams, but it was still nice to have some human interaction after traveling alone all day, and I did say I wanted a gay experience, didn’t I? #success. And beyond that, like, how bold of him! I know only like 4 people read this, but how many of you would, if you weren’t married/in committed relationships, walk up to a stranger you found attractive and ask them out? Even though you almost most definitely won’t ever read this, I applaud you, Chris, for your boldness, keep it up and teach it to the world.

But so traveling; Day TWO in Berlin was dedicated to actual, tourist-trap sightseeing. I started out with the Fernsehturm de Berlin, which is a huge TV tower in the city with an observatory at the top that has panoramic views of Berlin. I had planned to do other things before this, but in retrospect, I’m glad I decided to go there first because that line was long, and then once you finally got inside the building from the numbing wind, you were just buying a placeholder to go up to the observatory at least two hours later. It ended up working my favor, though, because after buying the tickets, I made my way to the East Side Gallery, a section of the Berlin Wall that’s still intact and covered in beautiful artwork. Now again, as it was January and also 20º, this particular adventure was mostly “take a picture, admire artwork for 2 seconds, and keep walking before my legs succumb to frostbite” as opposed to actually taking and admiring the artwork.

While it might not have been as fulfilling as it could’ve been, it ended up working perfectly because by the time I got back to TV tower, it was time to...wait in another line 🙄 . But it didn’t last long and in no time, I was getting the view of Berlin from the top. Yet again, however, the lack of planning for this trip in terms of the weather/season, coupled with the fact that I went up during sunset, proved to be rather troublesome, and the haze from the setting sun made it incredibly difficult to see the city through the windows of the observatory. I was mildly disappointed after having done all the waiting and whatnot, but, as I looked out over Berlin, I saw a skyscraper facing the TV tower which was clearly sporting an observatory deck, sans windows. I remembered that I had read that there was a hotel that also offered panoramic views of Berlin, but of course, being myself, after reading about it, I promptly forgot. So I made my way down from the top of the TV tower—which was good timing anyway as most of the children up there had been given entirely too much liberty from their parents—and ascended the top of the hotel, and caught some absolutely gorgeous shots of Berlin with the setting sun. I’m never one to brag about my photography skills (especially not landscape photography), but I was really proud of these shots!

So, alas, the sun had set, and so had the temperature by what felt like 10ª, so it was time for me to no longer be outside.

Over the past few years, I had gone back and forth about getting a tragus piercing (fyi: a tragus is that funny little nubbin of cartilage toward the front of your ear) because it’s small, cute (and also not my earlobe since that trend has definitely ended). Once I finished taking pictures on the top of the hotel, I decided, spur of the moment, that this would be the trip to do it because it was the first trip I’d made solo and wanted to do something to remember it, so why not? Coincidentally, as I was meandering through Schöneberg that first night, I stumbled upon a piercing parlor, and figured it would be perfect, especially since it was in the gay district. When I got there I talked to the man in the parlor about what the whole process would be, and I quickly gathered that he was American. We of course had to chitchat for awhile about what brought us to Europe, our thoughts about the different cultures, blah blah blah and 30 minutes later, I had my ear pierced! Woo! It wasn’t nearly as painful as I thought it might be, and the worse part of the whole process actually ended up being the fact that I could hear the needle going through my cartilage with two little pops. *shivers* But it was done! I’m really happy with it, I think it adds just the right amount of extra flare to my style.

So the next day, Day 3 in Germany! I traveled to Hamburg, and I of course decided to take the ICE train (which is basically the German version of the TGV), and needless to say I was fangirling the whooooole time. But then, after I boarded, to my own surprise, I slept through the entire journey...😐 . I was thoroughly shocked when I woke up to realize that we had arrived. But, oh well, it’s still another famous train ticked off my list!

Now Hamburg was a part of this adventure I was particularly worried about because in addition to the whole traveling alone thing, it would be my first time staying in a hostel and sharing a room with up to 5 other random humans, and those who know me well enough know that I am not very fond of other humans in my day-to-day life. That being said, I made a really good connection while I was there: When I entered the room, heart pounding, fully expecting to see some gross man cutting his yellowing toenails on the floor, instead there was a girl sitting in the windowsill on the phone and speaking American English. Once she hung up, we instantly started chatting about this and that, and I learned that her name is Daunt’e and that thanks to being a military brat, she had traveled quite literally all over the planet, and was in the process of traveling for another 3 months, just cuz. Needless to say, we had plenty to talk about. We walked around Hamburg for a few hours and then grabbed some burgers at a restaurant called Burgerlich which, in addition to being delicious, was super innovative because you did everything, from ordering your food to getting more napkins, with iPads that came out of the top of the table. We ate and drank and continued our chit chats until it was time for me to go to the place that was, if I’m being honest, the entire reason for this trip to Germany:

Miniatur Wunderland: The World’s LARGEST Model Railroad.

—NOBODY PANIC, I KNOW IT’S EXCITING, BUT I NEED EVERYONE TO CALM DOWN—

Okay, so once I got all the voices in my head to chill, I basically ran to this place and even with the hype I’d heard (hype I’d heard from, again, the voices in my head), this place was so far beyond what I could have expected.

It. Was. Incredible.

When you first walked in, you were greeted with a wall full of TVs each displaying one section of the layout, and a few guys sitting in front of what looked like incredibly intense control boards. Once past the TVs, I realized that they divided the layout into different sections based on countries or regions. They had Germany, America, Scandinavia, Switzerland, Italy and a few other places. As you walked along, you saw the different trains (duh), landscapes, architecture, culture, you name it, it was there, of each region. They had wide, open fields, an absolutely enormous replica of the Alps that was well over 10 feet tall, they even had actual water with an ACTUAL CRUISE SHIP THAT ACTUALLY MOVED AND TURNED BY ITSELF TO AND FROM AND IN AND OUT OF THE PORT; they had the mountains of the Western USA and in every region there was just...an almost painful, annoyingly precise attention to detail. Every. Single. Aspect. of Every. Single. Region was thought of and executed perfectly. They even had cars and buses and trucks that drove along the road BY THEMSELVES. They had working stoplights at which the various vehicles would stop, while using their working brake lights! And then of course, they had just a stupid amount of miniature people in the miniature worlds as well, and I swear, you could spend full months in there and you’d still find a miniature person doing some crazy, whacky things that you never noticed before. Seriously! I’m actually kind of at a loss for words when I try to think of a way to properly describe all the probably thousands of different scenarios they had set up. One of the most impressive was a rock concert they had set up that had to have had at least 500+ miniature humans ALL doing DIFFERENT things.

The most impressive feature of the layout had to have been the working airport. I had read about this thing online and still couldn’t believe it was real while I was looking at it. Y’all, they built an entire working model airport. With planes that quite literally land and take off! And on top of that, once the planes landed, they actually moved, by themselves, to the terminals! And when they were all full of “people,” they backed up, again, by themselves, drove to the runway, and took off. JAW: DROPPED AND SUBSEQUENTLY SHATTERED. The terminal itself was huge, and, just as the rest of the layout, filled with what had to have been thousands of individual people.

Looking back, this place was so realistic and so well thought out, I wouldn’t have surprised, nor mad had the miniature people actually started moving. Ugh.

I just.

I. JUST.

I went to bed the happiest of Nigel’s that night.

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and the next day, I flew back to Paris and caught my train back to Nîmes. But! Obviously not before I made my way to Chipotle, and ended up getting a FREE burrito because the French are apparently yet to have mastered the fine art of wrapping a burrito that’s the size of a newborn child. I must admit, I doubt it’s an easy skill to learn. Regardless I was not mad about it, y’all! 🌯

Rome

Post-German adventures, after a few days of relaxation and tutoring in Nîmes, I joined my roommate Carrie and her friend Dom (a different Dom than last time!) halfway through their own European adventure of Paris, Rome, and ending in Barcelona. When I heard about their plans I figured it’d be a perfect opportunity to finally go to Italy, as I thought it was pretty strange that I studied opera and lived in Europe for two years and still hadn’t been to Italy. What?

So day 1: The Dom, Carrie and Nigel Main Attraction Marathon

On this day, we did all the major touristy, you-have-to-go-see-this-if-you’re-in-Rome” attractions: the Colosseum, the Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps, the Pantheon, etc. Carrie’s Fitbit kept track of all our steps and I think this day was our highest!

We did take a break from the marathon tour at one point between sight-seeing. We decided we wanted to stop and just soak up and enjoy the Italian sun and the beautiful weather that had graced our first day. We pulled up our maps and found the Villa Borghese Gardens, a park in the western part of the city and rented one of those multi-person cab/bicycle machines and drove through the park, terrifying everyone around us as we yelled in English from fear of hitting a passing pedestrian... #oops. But no one died, so I call it a successful adventure, and our sight seeing marathon continued afterwards.

Our dinner plans for each night ended up being very consistent with the exception of our first night. On this night, we decided a little too late to eat, and found ourselves getting to restaurants just as they had closed their kitchens. Carrie, however, came to the rescue with her favorite restaurant in Rome (she’s been to Rome about six times and knew the good places to go), that she had been saving for our last day. She had somehow (read: drunkenly) made friends with the owner of the restaurant, and even though it was about 6 years ago, they still remembered her and were always overjoyed to see her whenever she came back.

The food was, of course, delicious. All three of us ordered the Cacio e Pepe, which is basically spaghetti in a spicy cheesy sauce, and what blew my mind was that they literally made the pasta in the restaurant while we drank the wine and waited! What?! Maybe it’s common practice in Italian culture, but I couldn’t believe it!

The next day, Day 2 in Rome!, we all went to our separate corners for most of the day. Dom, who was doing her very first European trip, and who had been sick while in Paris, needed a day to recover; Carrie, being the health-nut that she is, went on a very long run and if I’m not mistaken got very lost; and I grabbed my bag and my camera and kinda just wandered around the city for a few hours. We met up later for a group wander around the city, but didn’t see anything too exciting (relatively speaking of course, this is Rome we’re talking about). But as dull as Day 2 might seem, it was the night we had our first Italian aperitivo which we ended up doing this every night for the rest of the trip because of its genius. It’s basically like the American happy hour, but with a brilliant twist: it’s 10€ for one glass of wine or cocktail as well as an all you can eat buffet that’s unique to each restaurant. GENIUS. This ended up being a fantastic way to go to a variety of restaurants without breaking the bank and might be one of the things I miss the most about Rome.

Day 3 in Rome! was what most people would consider the big day if you’re in Rome: we went to see St. Peter’s Basilica and the Vatican and its many, many, many museums. It goes without saying that everything was beautiful. And even more beautiful, the longest wait we had was only about an hour and a half! True perks of sight-seeing during the off-season! It was so uncrowded, that we actually walked straight into the Vatican museums, no lines, no wait! Carrie, having been to Rome multiple times, said that she had once waited for 4 hours to get into the museums and was stunned that Dom and I just waltzed in as if we were going to Target. Carrie also, citing that she had been multiple times, declined to join us into the museums. I didn’t understand at first, especially since she had already toured the Colosseum with us, but it didn’t take long for me to get the picture.The Vatican Museums have just an insane amount of artwork, having been in the process of collecting over centuries by the various Popes. I can only imagine that after waiting in line for up to 4 hours, walking around and trying to absorb the thousands of pieces of art for another 4 hours would be nothing less than exhausting.

Dom and I decided to leave the Sistine Chapel for last, knowing full well that if we started there, we’d probably just leave afterwards 😂. And of course, not being art buffs as well as already feeling the past 2.5 days of walking in our feet, were not stopping to admire every single piece, so we had what I’m sure a lot of other tourists would consider a speedy pace through the museums, and yet it still took us about 3 hours.

So now, here’s a point where I realize, as I type, that there’s a potential for an #unpopularopinion: I was rather underwhelmed by the Sistine Chapel.

Lemme explain.

Every time you hear about the Sistine Chapel or see anything about it, you see or hear about The Creation of Adam, so I thought that that painting would be the main focus, or the biggest part of the ceiling. I was quite mistaken. While it is very much in the center, it was the same size as the rest of the paintings, and it actually took me a hot second to find it! All that said, the Chapel (as well as the entire Vatican and its museums), was breathtaking, but definitely does not look like it does on the box... I guess what I should say is that I was going into the experience expecting something very, very different.

But so okay, world renowned piece of culture and art officially checked off my list! Woo!

Carrie, again with her traveling prowess, had compiled a list of restaurants that we had to try while we were there, and so after St. Peter’s Basilica, but before the museums, we went to check one out. Usually, the list had details about the restaurant listed such as recommended dishes, best times to go, etc. but the restaurant we went post-Peter, Bonci, had only one thing written: GO. Knowing Carrie, this was no joke, and sure enough, it wasn’t.

Bonci is a “pizzarium” that uses all natural ingredients and makes handmade pizzas. It was a “street restaurant” and so once you had your pizza, you sat outside and enjoyed the Roman sun while your mind was absolutely blown by the delicious pizza. The pizzas they make are very square (literally, not metaphorically), very large, and basically in HD. I’ve never seen so many pizzas in so many bright and vibrant colors that all looked so good. Needless to say, I got seconds...and then went back the next day for thirds.

The next day, Day 4 in Rome!, we three musketeers disbanded yet again for the morning and went our separate ways for a few hours. I had found an article online about interesting things to do and see off the beaten path in Rome, and read about a canon that’s apparently fired everyday to signal that it’s noon. This is apparently done to help all the churches and cathedrals in the city know the exact time so they can set their bells to toll at the same time. When I got to the top of the massive hill, sweaty and dehydrated, I was surprised to find a sizable crowd there, and even more surprised to hear that the majority of the crowd was made up of Italians. They were all lined up along the edge of a hill and at the bottom was the cannon and three soldiers. Out in the distance was a gorgeous panoramic view of Rome that really took my breath away. But so, the cannon was indeed fired, and my ears indeed started to ring because I was, indeed, standing too close to it. #oops. But alas, that was my last day in Italy, and after another night of aperitivo, the next day I was on my plane back to France, while Dom and Carrie continued on Barcelona. And, yes I was, indeed, jealous.

Rotterdam

So if you haven’t gathered the idea yet, I really, really, really enjoy the Netherlands, and decided after visiting this summer that I’d go as often as possible while doing TAPIF. Something about the culture and of course the friends I’d made there make every trip I’ve made so far just incredibly successful, and this time was no exception.

Well, there was actually one exception to this non-exempt trip: to keep things cheap, I usually take the TGV from Nîmes to Paris, and then take an 8 hour bus ride from Paris to Amsterdam. For some, 8 hours is entirely too much, but to me, after having done 8 hours to and from CT and Pittsburgh in college, it was quite run of the mill, and even better, the bus from Paris to Amsterdam is usually relatively empty and quiet. On this trip however, that was not the case.

First off, I don’t know WHAT was going on with the bus driver, but homeboy could not drive in a straight line and we literally swerved from one side of the lane to the other the whole way from Paris to Brussels. But, in reality since it was a giant coach bus, we were actually swerving from one side of our lane to the other side of the lane next us. We finally stopped in Brussels and thankfully changed drivers, but now the bus was suddenly full of people. I, somehow, miraculously, still had two seats to myself. So, as the bus started to roll along, I put my headphones back in and let most likely Beyoncé sing away the next however many hours...until I heard that dreaded sound. The sound of logs being sawed in half, the sound of a manual car’s gears grinding as you fail to shift gears, the sound of a motorcycle idling at a stop light: snoring. LOUD snoring.

I took out my headphones in disbelief that someone’s lack of nasal strips could penetrate the beauteous sounds of my Queen🐝 , and I turned and saw a dark-skinned, heavyset man in a very bright yellow shirt, mouth agape, eyes shut, sounding like he was leveling a FOREST.

So, to give you some context, I really hate snoring. Like really, really, really hate snoring, and become irrationally angry irrationally quickly when I have to sleep in a room with someone who snores. In my sleep deprived mind, I get so jealous that they get to sleep while I get to SUFFER. But this time, I wasn’t even trying to sleep, and I learned I don’t just hate snoring when I’m attempting to sleep, but in more of a general sense, in any and all forms. Thankfully, my stop, Rotterdam, was before Amsterdam, so I didn’t have to spend the entirety of the remaining bus trip contemplating violently shaking the man awake. I may be used to 8 hour trips on the road, but I have limits, y’all!

All snoring aside, this trip to the Netherlands, while successful, was definitely much more relaxed than my last three. I stayed with my friend Gert-Jan, the founder of the queer youth center The Hangout010 in Rotterdam whom I met this past summer. When I arrived, I went straight to The Hangout and had some dinner and caught up with Gert and some other friends, and happened to have arrived while some American college students were visiting Rotterdam and The Hangout while studying abroad. We had a really engaging conversation about sexuality and gender and then went to grab some drinks at a local gay bar.

The next day was a true Nigel day: I wandered around Rotterdam for a few hours and grabbed some lunch at the Markthal, took the train to Amsterdam and then just wandered around my favorite city until it was too cold to be outside (and I of COURSE went back to the Foodhallen and spent entirely too much money).

On day 2, I visited my Couchsurfing host from my last Dutch excusrion to Leiden, Christiaan, in Deventer, a very cute little town in the eastern part of the country. It was filled with quirky little shops, including some that sold model trains (that I somehow refrained from purchasing), one that only sold stamps, and another that had three or four enormous trays so full of postcards that I thought they were selling CDs. They had postcards of literally anything you could think of: animals, people, naked people, buildings, trains, chairs, beds, anything and everything. Needless to say, I got one from the train section.

After our mostly window shopping, Christiaan and I went back to his apartment and were thinking of what to make for make dinner, and decided on ginger pumpkin chutney with some cheese and bread, as well as pumpkin curry that ended up being a lot better than I thought it would! The chutney, too, was outstanding, and within a half an hour, both were completely demolished.

I got back to Rotterdam late that night, and the next day, unfortunately had to leave until who knows when! 😫 😖 😭

The Journey Home

“Nigel, why in the world would you write about the journey home, it couldn’t have been that exciting.” I know, I know, but this one ended up being really funny! (And also the source of the title 😉 ).

Well I got on the bus in Amsterdam. I sat down. A very handsome man sits down next to me (and was I mad about it? Y’all know I was not!). But, as it was 8.45 in the morning, I didn’t really try to strike up a conversation.

Until!

I realized I had left all the food I had for the trip in my bag which was now in the overhead bin. Not thinking, I asked him in English if I could get out and he looked at me in shock. As it turned out, even though he was indeed French, he had spent a year abroad in California, and had been dying to find an American with whom he could practice his English. His name was Cyril. We got to talking and I heard about his time in SoCal and I told him about my being a teacher blah blah...and then we got to talking about what we were doing in the Netherlands. We had both only gone for the weekend, and both had gone for the sake of seeing good friends. And then, almost to himself, he mentioned that the bus ride to Amsterdam had been awful. I commented that mine had been pretty awful too, the worst part being the snoring man...Cyril stopped me: “was he like a bigger guy with a really crazy bright yellow shirt?” I looked at him curiously...and asked him if the first bus driver had been just completely incompetent at driving in a straight line, and it was confirmed: we had been on the same bus! We laughed about it for a while and once we got to Paris, we exchanged Facebooks and went our separate ways.

For the train ride home, I was hoping for a quiet ride so I could write this blog post. Just as the train was leaving, I realized no one had sat down next to me, and was very thankful for the extra space, and settled in to recounting my adventures. But then of course, a woman sits down next to me. Womp. Oh well, I told myself, no biggie. So I try and get some typing done until I realize, this woman is fiddling with a very thick and very long, purple rope. What? I do my best to inconspicuously see what it leads to, but with no luck. Until the other end of the rope suddenly...moves! It was a dog! And a beautiful one at that. Now again, as is the case when I see any dog, my mind just shut down and I started speaking to her in English about her dog. Thankfully, she was American too, and we talked the whole ride down.

Yvette, I learned, was from Colorado (Denver, I think) and just so happened to also be doing TAPIF in a town called Béziers, not too too far from Nîmes. We gabbed about life abroad and what is was like to be a teacher (she’s a primary school teacher, too) and so on. Eventually, her dog, Kaya, got tired of being on the floor in the aisle and decided she’d be more comfortable between Yvette and myself which I, of course, had no problem with. I asked her what it was like to have your dog with you while living abroad, and Yvette explained that, while it certainly had its perks, it could be frustrating when it came to traveling: the TGVs never had enough space for everyone’s luggage let alone a dog, and keeping an eye on the dog proved to be difficult when your eyes are seeing the sights:

“I have to be very mindful of her when we go sightseeing,” she told me. “I’ve realized that Kaya has a tendency to pee on things that are older than America. We went to some ancient church in Béziers, and I looked up to admire it, and then looked down to see Kaya peeing on it.”

Needless to say, I cackled and promptly retitled this blog post.

Alas, that was the last day of my vacation. Since then, it’s back to the grind here in Nîmes with teaching and tutoring in full swing. The weather has been absolutely gorgeous as the perks of living the south of France have made themselves apparent with 60º+ weather and days full of sunshine.

Et c’est tout! Thanks to those who read all of my ramblings, this one in particular was a doozy, but I really appreciate it! Next post(s) will be hopefully a trip to Portugal and Madrid for April vacation (omg I’m so excited I can’t even, I can literally only odd), and maybe a weekend trip or two during the vacation-less month of March!

Until next time!

0 notes