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miekasa · 3 years

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okay but what about airport!levi? he gives quiet businessman vibes sitting in his slacks and turtleneck

IN HIS TURTLENECK 😭😭 He would also be quiet and to himself, but not in the emo way. You got me thinking about all of them now, so here are my other thoughts about the boys at the airport.

Levi

He thinks the idea of separating classes on an airplane is beyond stupid, but if the flight is particularly long, or particularly packed, he’s not above paying for business class for a little extra personal space for the two of you.

When he doesn’t do that, tho, he never picks your guys’ seats ahead of time, so sometimes you’ll be separated. Good thing he’s also not above lying at the check-in desk, “I’m in Zone 1, could my wife be seated next to me so that we can board together?”

They respond with an “of course,” and move your seats together, and Levi walks back with a content nod of appreciation. You are not married, and marriage sucks about as much as class separation on a 30 foot long plane, but it has its benefits.

Masks on, regardless. No debates. Pandemic or not, the mask stays on. Do not perceive him, keep the pressurized air sharing to a minimum.

Doesn’t wander much in the airport. There’s nothing in there that he hasn’t seen already, except for the marked up prices on touristy t-shirts.

And if you wander, he’ll usually just sit in the waiting area to watch your bags while you window shop and do your thing. If you’re gone for more than 30 mins, he might call, under the pretenses of, “Making sure you didn’t get lost. You know that Starbucks was near gate 41 to the left, not the right, right?” Like he’s a comedian or something 🙄

He does encourage you to get snacks before you board, tho. Airplane food is gross, and he would much rather pay for a $13 sandwich that you can snack on later, than for you to have to eat mush.

He’s got a little portable mug he takes with him for when he’s wants to buy a hot drink before getting on his flight. It’s cute.

Doesn’t fall asleep on the plane ever. No matter how long the flight is—at most, he’ll take a quick power nap somewhere in the middle if it’s over 9 hours, but other than that, he’s good to go.

Doesn’t mind if you fall asleep, and he always adjusts your neck pillow to make sure you don’t get cramps.

Jean

Travel champion. This man loves being in the airport even though he’s convinced it’s a time capsule, he fucking loves it.

King of “your airport fashion matters, babe.” Not necessarily wearing a whole three piece suit, but he does put in a little effort; it’s not just the first pair of sweats he has laying around.

Swears coffee tastes better in the airport. It does not. That does not stop him from buying it. He should learn to quit tho, especially for someone who hates airplane bathrooms as much as he does.

Charming with all the security personnel and desk assistants. You could be checking in for a flight at 4am, and Jean’s got people smiling and cheery for their shifts.

Bitches about the selection of movies on the flight, and learns to just download his own ahead of time. Gets really startled when he’s watching something and the flight attendants try to grab his attention for food or drinks—the very loud, classic, Jean Kirstein “HUH?”

On that note, he also gets startled by the loudspeaker announcements in the airport. He doesn’t know why he has to hear about American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun, when he is not on American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun.

Not opposed to paying extra for better airplane food or drinks on the plane if it’s the right time of day. He always finds something to toast to, plus he likes to treat you whenever and wherever he can.

Takes care of your overhead luggage and helps out the people around him if he sees they’re struggling. Gets shy when you call him a gentleman for it, and he rubs his neck, grumbling, “I was just helping the line move a little faster.”

Great timing, generous, will pick up your checked bags for you, and already rented a car a week in advance: 10/10 travel buddy.

Porco

He doesn’t like planes and there’s no solid reason why—nothing bad happened to him as a kid, and it’s not even that rare unfortunate incidents freak him out or anything—something flying just makes him a bit uneasy.

He won’t say it though, and he tries to keep it together when you’re checking in, but you can tell he’s anxious once you’re sitting and waiting for your flight to board.

He’ll ask to switch seats if you have the window seat, because somehow the feeling of being boxed in between the plane wall/window and another person makes it feel more like a car than a plane and he’s okay with that.

Going to the airport is one of the few times he hair won’t be styled, and falls in his face a bit. He usually throws on a beanie to cover it up, but you think he looks pretty cute either way.

Can’t usually fall asleep and he hates it because he just sits there thinking about the worst for the entire duration of the flight. But when you travel with him for the first time and coax him into taking a nap it’s so much better.

It’s about the only time he’ll let himself be publicly babied by you; but it makes everything so much easier that he doesn’t even mind.

So now, whenever you get on flights, he just puts his hood up, lays his head on your shoulder and waits for the magic to happen.

Bonus: you’re traveling with his friends, and Pieck and Marcel past to your seats, surprised to see Porco fast asleep on your shoulder. Pieck squeals, going on about how you must be a wizard to have gotten him to nap, to which Marcel just shakes his head, “Nah, he’s just really in love with her. Look at his face, that’s the calmest he’s been since he was five.”

Connie

Loves the airport. Not an ounce of organization in his soul though. By that I mean, yeah, he’s probably forgotten his passport at home, or forgotten that a full size bottle of body wash cannot go into his carry-on luggage.

Forgets to wear shoes that easy to take off and is fumbling over himself after the security check trying to lace them back up or put them back on.

Likes for you guys to have coordinating sweatsuits, and even though you don’t travel super often, Connie’s got at least 3 pairs of them lined up for you guys.

Sweet enough to drop plans or rearrange his schedule to travel with you if you were originally gonna be alone. He knows you can handle yourself, but he doesn’t want for you to travel alone if you don’t have to, especially if you’re going someplace far and/or for an extended period of time.

He always finds breakfast food to eat before he gets on his flight (if you two even have time to spare for food that is). It could be 9pm, but Connie’s asking for a breakfast wrap.

Hates waiting in the little pre-flight area. Claims it’s boring as hell and that’s why there’s no reason to get there 3 hours early 🙄🙄

He always spends at least 30 minutes browsing all the movie and TV show options available on-board, loudly exclaiming in excitement when they have something cool to watch—only to fucking fall asleep 10 minutes later. Right on top of you when he was oh-so-excited to watch Madagascar 2.

Always steals the aisle seat, even if it’s yours. It’s probably for the best though, because he has to get up to pee at least twice, no matter how short your flight is.

Makes some cheeky remark about you meeting him in the bathroom. He doesn’t mean it... unless he does. Unfortunately, you’ve never... successfully been able to do that out of fear of being caught by the flight attendants, but there have been a few quickies in the “family” (“It’s ethical, because technically we’re participating in the act of making a family, babe”) bathroom before you boarded. It’s his fault, not yours.

Armin

He really likes planes, and traveling in general. I think trains would be his favorite mode of transportation, but airplanes are good too.

I hate to say it but he claps when the plane lands. I will not elaborate or defend my stance on this.

Prefers the window seat because he likes to look out at the clouds as he’s in the sky.

He took his passport photo a little before he cut his hair, so the security personnel always hold it up and flicker between his ID photo and his current appearance a few times before stamping it. It makes him a little embarrassed because he can’t tell if they think he looks better or worse and sometimes he’s really fighting for his life convincing them that that’s him in the picture 😭

Listens to music rather than downloading a movie or watching a show, and always brings wire headphones to the airport so that it’s easier to share and listen with you.

If you fall asleep on him first, he’ll likely fall asleep on you shortly after. If he’s tired enough, he’ll fall asleep first, though he’s somewhat embarrassed and disappointed because he wanted to see the descent and skyline outside.

When he’s not asleep or window-watching, he’s somewhat fidgety out of excitement, rather than nervousness. He’s excited to be traveling and looks forward to wherever you’re going, even if it is just a weekend long work trip.

Hates traveling alone, though. It just feels particularly lonely to him to be going someplace foreign without company by his side. So, he’ll call you at every checkpoint and send you updates.

He only ever buys two things in duty free: shot glasses with the name of the city/country you’re traveling to, and whatever variety of button down short-sleeves are available to him.

Erwin

You knew this was coming, but this man is absolutely at the airport 18 hours before your flight takes off, and he’s driving like a manic getting there, like you don’t have all the time in the world.

Fascinated by anything and everything in duty free. Definitely spends more money than necessary on your return flight on the grounds that he was getting a good deal.

Exchanges money in the airport and keeps cash in his fanny pack. There’s no traveling without the fanny pack.

Plays crossword puzzles on his phone on the plane, and it’s just about one of the only games he has. That and Candy Crush—I get the feeling he’d be on level 500+ of that game and he always knocks out at least 10 levels on a flight.

Always a little surprised when he feels his your head on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and acts like he didn’t even notice, but there’s a telling little smile on his face.

Takes the most foul selfies of him and your sleeping self. In his defense, he had the best intentions; but that angle was flattering nobody. It’s too bad he’d already paid for the in-flight wifi and sent it to Hange because now you’ll never live them down.

You could probably get him to put on a (skincare) face mask during your flight. He forgets to take it off tho, and if you don’t tell him, he’d fully walk through customs with it on his face.

Accidentally gets drunk because he doesn’t understand that just because he can handle several glasses of whiskey in his favorite bar on a Friday night, does not mean it will translate on a plane.

#anonymous #yeah this is a roast of erwin a bit but im right i know i am #aot x reader #levi x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #connie springer x reader #armin x reader #erwin x reader #porco x reader #aot headcanons

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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padfootagain · 4 years

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The King And You (VII)

Part 7: Farewell

Here comes a new chapter for my Caspian series! Our poor King is going through a lot… but he's building his team up and oh dear, what a team…

I hope you'll like this new chapter!

Word Count: 2504

You talked with Agatha for what felt like hours. Caspian disappeared in the distance, and you wanted to follow him, but the old woman stopped you. She argued that he had a lot to take in, that he needed time. You guessed she was right.

So, you walked back inside, and talked. She told you everything she knew about her mother's family: her sister and brothers dying when they were still so young, the stories they believed in. And for a reason she couldn't fully comprehend, Agatha believed in them as well.

And it sounded crazy. Utter madness. Bananas.

But no matter how many times you turned the story around and around in your head, you couldn't find any better explanation. Maybe you were being conned by a pair of very convincing criminals?

Then, why did your heart tell you it wasn't so?

Narnia. Aslan. Wars. A white witch. Winter. A stone table. Telmarines. Talking animals. A star. The Dawn Treader…

None of it made any sense.

With doubt still blurring your thoughts and questions twirling around your mind, you took a look at the time on your phone. Caspian had left more than an hour before. It was more than time to go looking for him. After all, God knew what kind of troubles the man could get himself into.

You gave your phone number to Agatha and told her to stay home, in case he would come back. Meanwhile, you would drive around the neighbourhood in his search.

You passed tall red trees, and pretty white houses of a too-perfect street. White fences were all that was missing to render a classic American neighbourhood. Above you, the sky was getting grey with clouds heavy with rain.

The distraction of your drive didn't make your mind quiet. But despite your doubts, and despite the fact that you couldn’t believe Caspian's and Agatha's tale, you couldn't find a way to believe that they had ill intentions either. So, maybe they were both crazy, nevertheless, you couldn’t just abandon Caspian like this. After all, he had been nothing but nice to you since he had stumbled into your life. It wasn't fair to simply abandon it, your conscience couldn't allow you to act like this.

Twenty minutes passed and you couldn't find him anywhere. You were starting to fear that something might have happened to him. He could have been attacked, or hit by a car, or kidnapped, or simply lost his way which, given his global appearance and attitude, was already a disaster…

You almost missed his form sitting on the grass, under a maple tree. You parked your car quickly and hurried towards him, but as you approached his motionless figure, you slowed down your pace. There was something quiet and still around him, a saddened aura that you felt reluctant to disrupt, so you approached cautiously, stopping a couple of steps away from him. You stood there for a moment, silent and as motionless as him, your eyes on his shoulders and the back of his head.

"Caspian?" you called in just a whisper.

But he didn't react at all.

"Are you okay?"

Again, your words were left unanswered.

So, you slowly closed the distance between the two of you to sit by his side. He didn't turn to look at you, didn't move at all to acknowledge that he had as far as noticed you were there. His gaze was set on a random point of the horizon, and you were sure that his eyes saw without looking. It was written all over his face that he had been crying for a long time.

You wanted to say something, but found yourself at a loss for words. You merely sat uncomfortably next to him instead, searching for things to say that seemed to fly out of reach every time you opened your mouth.

As you lacked words, you reached to hold his hand instead. His fingers were cold and calloused, but reassuring, for a reason you couldn't fathom. After a moment, he reciprocated your gesture.

And he was grateful that you didn't try to reassure him with empty words about feelings you couldn't understand. He didn't need someone to tell him that things would be alright, that they understood, that he wasn't alone…

Because things would not be alright. Because you didn't – couldn't – understand. Because he was alone…

Did that mean that he would give up? No, he couldn't. He was King, his people needed him to find a way back home. He would fight for them to his last breath, this was a vow he would never break. But for now, he didn't need a denial of the facts. He didn't need lies to be told in reassurance. He knew that he was going to face hard times, he knew that he had lost the help he thought he could get in this world decades before. He was lost and needed to find a way back.

But then, you were holding his hand now. You were sitting on the grass with him, skeleton leaves cracking under your weight as you shifted to sit cross-legged. And just like you couldn’t begin to fathom the kind of pain he was facing, he couldn't imagine how hard it was for you to believe him. Yet, you were still here. He believed that actions spoke better than words.

As he held your hand in his too, giving it a little squeeze, as to check if it were real, he reckoned that maybe, after all, he didn't have to be alone.

"Can you stay with me, for a little while?" he asked in a shaky breath.

You gave his hand a soft, reassuring squeeze.

"Of course."

And no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you couldn’t deny that his pain was real. No one could fake pain that well.

Could he?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eventually, you went back to Agatha's, and she offered Caspian and you to stay over for dinner, a simple, quiet meal that lifted Caspian's spirit a little. He was silent for most of the time, until you reached the dessert.

"I'd like to see them," Caspian broke a silence that had settled for a few minutes around the table. "Their… tombs, I mean. I'd like to go and see them."

"Well, my mother wanted her ashes to be spread in the ocean, and that's what we did," Agatha answered. "We don't have a tomb. The rest of her family is in England."

"Can we go there?"

"No, you can't," you shook your head. "I mean… you need a passport and everything to go there. And it's not like… getting a ride to New York, you have to take a plane."

"A plane? What is a plane?"

"A… mean of transportation. Nevermind," you brushed his remark away, taking a sip of water. This day had been way too crazy already for you to spend half-an-hour explaining him what a plane was, you just didn't have the strength.

"Is England very far?"

"Yes, it is."

"I see. And what about this… pass… part?"

"Passport. It's an official document that states your identity. You need one to get in and out of countries. And you'll need one to get in England. But if your whole fairy tale is true, then I guess you don't have one, do you?"

"I am afraid not."

"And you won't get one using official ways. I mean, you didn't exist before yesterday."

"And that will be a problem?"

"Yes, they want to know like… where you were born, proofs of who your parents are… and your parents aren't even of this world, are they?"

"No, no… they weren't. I see, that is a problem indeed."

"No, you can't leave the country. I'm sorry, but there's no solution."

"But I need to walk in the Pevensies' footsteps. Go where they found their own passages to Narnia. Maybe one of the doors is still open."

"You can't go to England."

"Actually… I might know someone who could help us get the documents we need," Agatha quietly said.

Both you and Caspian looked at her, but if the King stared at her with hope in his eyes, your gaze was filled with confusion.

"I… might know a man who can get us the papers. We… dated. A long, long time ago. But we kept in touch, and… well, he owes me."

"Who is he?" you asked.

"Roger. His name is Roger O'Malley, and… well… I might have helped him run away from the police a few decades ago."

"He's a criminal?!"

"Well, you said yourself that we couldn't use official channels for this, they will just ask a ton of questions that we cannot answer. Roger must know how to find a passport, I'm certain of it."

"That… is the craziest idea, ever. What did he do anyway, this Roger?"

"Oh, nothing violent. He worked for this… businessman in Chicago and then in New York."

"You mean… he's a mobster?"

"Oh, he's retired now!"

You looked at Agatha with wide eyes, before throwing your hands towards the ceiling in desperation, huffing, your voice turned high-pitched in your near-panic state.

"Oh, yes, of course! Pardon me! If he's retired now, then all is fine! We should definitely ask a retired mobster to get us fake IDs and passport for this gentleman here, who will answer, if asked about his profession, that he's a Duke in a magical land called Narnia! For proof, he walks around dressed up like in a musketeer! You're right, that is a brilliant idea. Actually, the only glitch we could get in this perfectly sensible plan is passing the security checks at the airport with his BLOODY SWORD!"

"Actually, I'm the King of Narnia, not a Duke," Caspian corrected you, which only made your panic worse.

"Oh, pardon me, Your Highness! Of course, he's a King! That'll solve all of our problems! Maybe, as he's royalty, they'll give him a hot towel and a tiny chocolate on his pillow when we're all rotting IN JAIL!"

"Now, now, calm down, child," Agatha replied with an annoyed voice.

"This is a terrible, terrible idea," you fought back, stated a fact that seemed so obvious to you. "Don't call me to bail you and D'Artagnan here out of jail once you get there, huh?"

"Well, do you have any better plan? A single idea, even?"

And you had to admit that you had none.

You and Caspian exchanged a look. He didn't understand the whole issue, but he did get that what Agatha was offering was going against the law. However, he didn't have much choice.

"Agatha, if we contact your friend, can you promise me that no harm will come to anyone out of our actions?"

"Of course!"

"Then, I have to take the risk. Even if the way you describe, as I understand it, seems to go against some of your laws. Going to England might be my only chance. However, considering the risks you might be facing, I will travel on my own and undergo the purchase of this… passport on my own."

"I can go with you," Agatha shook her head, and her tone was final. "In fact, do you have a place to stay here?"

"He slept at my place yesterday," you answered.

"Well, then, you can stay here for as long as you need. After all, my family considered you one of their own."

Caspian gave her a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Agatha. For everything. But I don't want you to get into trouble on my behalf…"

"Nonsense! It's gonna be a lot of fun! Dear, I haven't had so much excitement in my life in a long while. And don't you worry, my dear, I'm sure we'll find a way to bring you home."

"How do we contact this… Roger?" you interrupted, bringing back the conversation towards practical issues.

"I'll call him! I have his number. You were of great help, but I will take care of Caspian now. You don't have to worry about him anymore. Nor getting into jail."

Caspian reached across the table to take your hand in his in a gentle, warm hold.

"Thank you for everything you've done for me. I don't want to be a weight…"

"Don't mention it," you mumbled, uncomfortable. "Anyone would have done the same."

Caspian gave you a warm smile.

"No, I don't reckon that's true."

"Will you be okay?"

"Yes. I think I will. Agatha will help me, you need not worry about me anymore."

You huffed again.

"You're a lot of trouble though. I think I'll keep on worrying about you for a while."

You exchanged a soft smile.

"Well, I guess… Agatha has my phone number, so if you need anything, you can call me," you offered.

"Call?"

You chuckled and showed him your phone.

"You can use that to talk to someone who's away."

"Your society is most impressive. Even if our magic is different, yours is just as strong the magic ."

"It's not magic, it's science," you replied.

"But isn't magic only science that we can't yet understand?" Agatha replied with a mischievous look, and the two of you laughed.

"I guess that's true."

You helped to clean the dishes, helped Caspian to settle down too. But then you were standing before the threshold, ready to leave without him, and you had to admit that it felt strange to part with him. If you were being honest with yourself, you even felt sad. Despite how crazy this whole ordeal was - and that you still didn't believe in his whole backstory - as you looked at him standing there, before you, giving you a warm smile while his dark eyes were tainted with pain, you knew that you would miss him.

"Good luck, then. And… call me if you need help. Otherwise, I… guess it's a…"

But your voice broke before you could say the word, and when you tried again, nothing came out but silence.

Caspian took your hand and brought it to his lips in a soft, slow movement, hesitant. As if he wasn't sure you'd let him go through with it, as if he wasn't sure it was adequate, but it felt right to do so, so he did it anyway. His lips lingered on the back of your hand for a few seconds too long, by Narnian standards of politeness, but you wouldn't have known anyway. You told yourself it was just one more eccentricity. Nothing more, despite the jolt of electricity that ran up your spine then.

He gave you one last tender smile.

"Farewell, Y/N."

You nodded, unable to understand the tears in your eyes, but you freed your hand and turned to walk to your car anyway.

You didn't look back as you drove off the street. You kept on repeating to yourself that at least, now, your life could go back to normal.

And that was a good thing, right?

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

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iwhumpyou · 4 years

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The Last Hero (Part 4)

Masterlist. The Last Hero.

Part 3.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Lucien heads down the empty corridor, utterly at ease to anyone who cares to look, though there isn’t anyone here. The whole floor has but a single occupant – one buried in plaster and gauze and connected to so many machines that if her breath hitches every doctor in the building will probably know within the second. Counting the guards and the two nurses, there should be a total of ten people on the floor. Lucien knows it’s now eleven.

He has work to do – being the newly elected mayor of a fracturing city is a mess Lucien is more than happy to dive into – and as many brownie points visiting ‘our poor, broken hero’ as he gets, it will not do the job for him. But his men alerted him to an intruder in the hospital and Lucien needs to know how the parkour hoods are going to play this. They might just be the last heroes in the city and Lucien cannot fight a war on two fronts.

They’ve bested him before. If he intends of keep control of the city – and the underworld, who are looking for the slightest of signs to fight again – he cannot have them dismantling his operations.

Naya is obviously not a problem right now – Lucien will be surprised if she can do more than breathe unaided – but there has never been a record of how many parkour hoods there are. The number fluctuates somewhere between two and five – it’s a problem when they all dress alike. Whoever they are, they are clearly very good at what they do and, as evidenced by the broken, bruised, bleeding girl in the room, they are willing to go to extreme lengths in defense of their cause.

He is sorry that he couldn’t find her parents, for more than one reason. It would be an easy way to control Naya – not that he needs one right now – and whoever the others are. It is also sad, that a girl who lost everything cannot even have her mother sit at her side and brush the hair out of her face. It is also a loose end because her family was gone by the time he’d sent men and he has no idea who’s taken them and why.

To blackmail Naya – a useless plan at the moment, but they could be willing to wait. And that would upset all of Lucien’s plans. To torture Naya – wait until she was feeling better and then send her family back, in pieces. More than a few people Lucien knows would be in favor of this plan and that would just make Lucien look like he has no control. Or for plain, simple revenge – her family can already be buried in unmarked graves somewhere, which is honestly the best option at the moment. It leaves them out of the picture, a variable he no longer has to consider.

But he will consider the variables he has at the moment. The rooms have an appalling lack of soundproofing – why he asked for the whole floor in the first place – and Lucien can easily take a position in front of the door, near the guards, and listen to the entire conversation.

“- so sorry, Naya.” It sounds like sobbing, another female’s voice. “I wanted to go after you –”

“And that would’ve left us with two bodies in hospital beds,” Naya said softly, “Come on, Red, it’s okay. I understand.” Still using code names. “Have you heard anything about my family?”

The other girl sniffles. “No, I’m sorry Naya, I tried calling them after he took your mask off, but it kept going to voicemail and then it didn’t ring at all. I have no idea where they are.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Naya says, definitely not sounding okay – her voice becomes a shade hoarser and her voice cracks. “How long have I been here?”

“A week,” Red says miserably, “I’ve been hanging around the hospital waiting for someone to say you’ve woken up. You weren’t awake the previous times I visited you.” Lucien raises a silent eyebrow at his guards, who shuffle nervously – no one reported a visitor so far.

“Thank you,” Naya says quietly, “But you have to leave now.”

“Do you hear someone coming?” Red asks and Lucien stills.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Naya says, “You need to leave the city.”

Lucien waits, certain that it’s too good to be true.

“I’m not leaving you,” Red hisses, “How can you even think –”

“Red,” Naya says quietly, “Look at me.” There is a long pause. “I don’t have a future.” Red makes some sort of wordless protest, but Naya cuts her off. “It’s true, you know it. I was unmasked shortly before being beaten to an inch of my life. It’s going to take months for me to heal, if not years. I don’t have the money to pay for all this. And even if I somehow walk out of here, where do I go – back to college? Back to classes? Get a job? Everyone knows who I am. Anyone who’s wanted revenge will start coming after me and I don’t have a high-tech mansion to hide in. I can’t run for the rest of my life. I won’t even have a very long life. Red –”

“I’ll get you out,” the other girl cuts her off.

“What?”

“I’ll get you out,” Red repeats, “We’ll find a place for you – new documents, new name, maybe even some plastic surgery. We can start over. I can threaten James into giving us a bank account. We can make it work.”

“Red,” Naya says after a pause, “I can’t even move right now.”

“I’ll get you out,” Red insists and Lucien can hear the tears in her voice, “There’s six guards on this floor. I can take them all out.” Lucien raises an eyebrow but his guards take a step back, wary. “I can get you out of the hospital.”

“And there are no other guards in the hospital?” Naya asks quietly, “No one who will raise the alarm?”

There is a tense silence. “I can get you out of the hospital,” Red repeats, and her voice is higher. We’ll get a taxi out of the city. To the airport.” Naya makes a wordless sound of protest but Red speaks over her. “Train station. Something. I will get you out because I’m not leaving you behind!”

Another long silence and he can hear Naya’s voice again, soft and hoarse, “And Lucien Medea?”

“What about him?” Red hisses. Lucien smiles. Naya’s response isn’t verbal but Red starts talking again.

“He’s been named mayor,” the disgust is evident in Red’s tone, “He arrived with his army just as the crowd was about to stone Chimera. He took Chimera into custody, got you to a hospital and made a stupid speech about justice and fighting for your home and standing against evil.”

It was a beautiful speech, years in the making. Lucian scowls, aggrieved.

“Everyone was clamoring for him to do something and eventually the call went up for him to be appointed mayor. I think some people were actually planning to drag the old mayor out of his office if he didn’t resign. The measure was approved by the council a few hours later. Medea Security Services became a militia to enforce the peace and you know the kind of toys they have. No new villain attacks, nothing on the hospital, but Lucien’s little soldiers guard the whole building. He visits you quite often – good for his public image, I bet, and a side bonus of some gloating.”

She is being very unfair. Lucien does genuinely feel sorry for Naya, though it would be difficult not to.

“His soldiers guard the whole building,” Naya repeats lightly, “I bet there’s one on every street corner. Do you think we’ll find a taxi that’s willing to take us out of the city?” Another silence. “Any train station that won’t alert Lucian the moment we turn up? An airplane that will let us board?”

“A disguise, then – there’s plenty of ways to hide you and I’m sure I can find someone selling fake ids –”

“I cannot move.”

A longer silence. Lucien can hear hitched breaths and realizes they’re crying. The sound is quiet.

“After you heal. Promise me you’ll fight for that. After you heal, I’ll come, and we’ll get out of this city together.” The words are hoarse and desperate.

Another pause. “If you leave now,” Naya says, her voice cracking, “And promise me that you won’t come back if it’s too dangerous, I promise I’ll fight for that future.”

“I will,” Red says quietly. Lucien makes a mental note to check ticket bookings from tonight to leave in the next few days.

“Naya,” Red says and Lucien has to strain to hear. “Naya, if you want…if you ever think…” she pauses for a long moment, “If you ever want it to end on your own terms…”

“Whatever happened to not giving up?” Naya says hoarsely.

“In a good, just world, it is easy to say the words,” Red replies, “When in the custody of psychopath who charmed his way into ruling the city, it becomes more difficult to follow. I will not judge – I can obtain anything you ask for.”

“Thank you, Red,” Naya says quietly, “You’re the best.”

“Not good enough,” is Red’s murmur, “Not good enough.”

~#~

Part 5.

#whump #whumpfic #the last hero #hospital bed conversation #'go before they get you too'#left all alone #reference to suicide

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capsicletho · 5 years

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I Can’t Make You Love Me

…if you don’t. You can’t make your heart feel something that it won’t.

a Tony Stark series; author: @stvrktony | chapter 13

trigger: -

warning: civil war spoilers if that’s even still a thing;

word count: -

summary: Reader and Tony found comfort in each other while they were trying to mend their own broken hearts.

a/n: -

masterlist | ICMYLM masterlist | previous chapter

Complying with Tony was just a way to shut him up and get him out of the compound, because he was on a deadline. You knew that one way or another, you are going to go where Tony is going. You haven’t had that figured out yet, currently, but you’re going to get there. You entered Tony’s study –– although you’re not a tech genius like your boyfriend is, you knew how some things worked based on your own observations and what he taught you about certain things.

You looked around the study and then poked around until you found one of Tony’s earpieces and took it with you. You exited the study and then turn around only to jump in surprise.

“What are you doing?” Happy asked.

“Uh...I thought I left my wallet in there, but it’s not there,” you lied.

“Huh,” Happy examined your face and you tried to put on the best innocent expression you could muster. “Alright, well. Tony told me to make sure you stay here and not go anywhere. But right now I have to drop someone off, so please do me a favor and don’t mess around, okay?”

“Who are you dropping off where?” You asked, a cheeky smile on your lips. If you can get that information out of Happy, you would not have to go through your complicated plan.

“None of your business,” Happy retorted, seeing through your move.

“Happyyyyyyy,” you called out to him. “You have to tell me! Tony could be in danger, the only way I can stop him is if I know where he’s going!”

“He’s going to be fine. He’s with Rhodey, Vision, and Nat, now I gotta go drop the kid off in Germany before Cap leaves.” Happy said as he walked away and fiddling with his iPad. But then he halted in a sudden and turned around.

You smirked. “Thank you, Happy,” you smiled. You decided to ignore the fact that he said ‘kid’ because it would give Happy time to stall you.

“Hey! (Y/N)! Don’t!” Happy called over to you, but you already disappeared into your room to pull the exact same suitcase that you haven’t even unpacked. You instantly left the compound in one of Tony’s cars and zipped to the airport. You booked the earliest flight which is about two hours away. The perfect amount of time to actually get to the airport and then buy some other things you might need to board the plane.

Meanwhile, back at the facility, Happy debated on calling Tony ––- knowing that his boss already had so much on his plate. But he also needed to pick Peter up and accompany him Germany. The man groaned and decided to deal with you later and prioritize Peter first.

Your eight hour flight ended smoothly and you could not wait to get to the hotel. As soon as the plane landed, you slipped on the earpiece that you had and tuned in to the conversation, but it was quiet. Too quiet. You gathered your bag, took off the earpiece, and put it back on your bag, knowing that it might get confiscated in customs. Just as you were waiting for your bag, you heard over the speakers that certain people were ushered out of a wing in the airport and there were complaints and people who looked angry, but some were also jumping in curiosity and excitement trying to still glance back to the airport wing that was being emptied. You were confused, why would they close an entire wing.

As you watched the people being transferred into other flights or booked hotels, you caught hints from a boy who was jumping around in excitement, he was a foreigner, but you would not have mistakenly heard the superhero names he was uttering. “Captain America!” he yelled out, the name laced thickly with their accent. He spoke again and then your boyfriend’s superhero alias came up. “Iron Man...” The gestures the boy was making, let you know that the Avengers are here, in this very airport.

You immediately shoved your way past the people and tried your best to hide from the security guards. Meanwhile, you slipped the earpiece back on and tried to get through to Tony, asking FRIDAY to connect you to him.

“Honey. What are you doing here?” Tony yelled in your ear as you slipped past more guards. His breath sounded a little bit labored, like he was doing a heavy activity.

“I told you I won’t come with you, but that does not mean I can’t go alone,” you retorted. “I’m on my way to you,” you said.

“No you’re not! Turn around. Leave. Now.” He ordered you. Right then, a security guard stopped you from going further into the airport wing that was closed.

“I’m with Tony Stark,” you said, showing your Stark Industries ID. You figured it out now, Tony must have had the airport employees usher people out to avoid casualties.

“No. No, you’re not with Tony Stark. You’re going home right now,” Tony spoke in your ear, unfortunately the security guard would not be able to hear him.

“I have to get this to him, it’s urgent.” You lifted a pouch from your handbag. It was actually your sleeping eye mask pouch, but he seemed to believe it was something important. “Now if you could please just step aside and maybe point me in the direction to where he is, I’ll be out of your hair in a flash,” you said.

The man studied you for a while, and as if on cue, Happy appeared behind you. “Actually, she’s not going there, she’s coming with me.”

You sighed and turned around, seeing Happy behind you.

“Come on. Don’t make me drag you out of here,” the bodyguard said.

You turned to the security guard who was now crossing his arms, surely he was not going to let you in now. “Fine,” you sighed in annoyance.

Happy loaded your suitcase into the car while you got in. You climbed into the car and just as you

“Babe, you still there?” Tony’s voice sounded in your earpiece. He sounded frantic and scared and you quickly tensed up.

“I’m here. Tony, are you okay? What’s going on?” You asked.

“I- I need... I need an ambulance.” The man stuttered, a sign of panic overpowering him.

“Tony are you hurt?” You asked again.

“N-No, no, no. It’s Rhodey. Rhodey...I couldn’t get to him in time.” He tried to explain.

“First responders are already here,” FRIDAY joined in on the conversation.

“Okay, Tony, calm down, babe. I’ll take care of it, just get out of there safely, okay?” You calmly spoke, knowing that if you panicked it would worsen Tony’s panic attack. You turned to Happy who decided not to leave when he heard you talking to Tony. “Happy, go, we’re going to the hospital now.”

You and Happy arrived at the hospital before Rhodey and the ambulance did and you quickly got everything sorted out, from the room he will be staying in until making sure that there will be a place ready for him in the emergency room so that they can examine him quickly.

You paced back and forth as you waited for Rhodey in the emergency room. From what you saw, you knew he took a hard hit which worried you even further as to what was going on between all of them at the airport.

“(Y/N),” a voice called out to you and you turned around to see Tony. He was battered and there were bruises forming in his face. You were scared to even imagine what other injuries and bruises he was sustaining.

You quickly walked over to him and enveloped him in a hug. Tony grunted a little at the impact, but he wrapped an arm around your waist while you wrapped both arms around his neck. He exhaled as he buried his face in your neck, inhaling your scent always helped calm him down; knowing that you’re near and that you’re safe comforts him more than anything. Your fingers slipped into his hair and rubbing soothing circles on the back of his neck. You stayed like that for a few minutes before Tony finally spoke up.

“What did the doctors say?” He asked.

“I don’t know, they haven’t come outside of the ICU yet,” you said as you pulled away to look at his face but still wrapping your arms around him. Your finger gently traced the bruise under his eye, causing him to wince a little. That was when you noticed he was not actually moving his left arm, not even to hug you. “What happened to your arm?” You asked.

“I think I sprained it,” he said.

You knew he was downplaying it. A lot has happened to Tony’s left arm, you noticed. Every time he came back from a mission or a fight, he would always have worse problems on his left arm than anywhere else. Tony said he was not sure how it started, but it was most likely when he first became Iron Man when he was flying to rescue hostages when a shell hit him.

“Okay, we’re getting you to a doctor,” you let go of him and then pulled his right arm to direct him to the ER.

After moments of you persuading and him refusing, you were sitting with him looking at the scan result for his arm. It was sprained, like he said, but you knew that he was experiencing worse pain than he just a sprained arm because his left arm had so much trauma from previous injuries.

The nurses decided to put his arm in a sling, and the man was already impatient, wanting to see Rhodey’s doctor as soon as possible. Right after the sling was clipped on properly, he stood up and left the room. You thanked the nurse in a hurry and followed him out to wait in front of the ICU again.

Things got worse when Tony received the news about his best friend’s condition. You sighed, worried for Rhodey but also for Tony. There is now another burden on his shoulders: the guilt of not being able to rescue Rhodey in time that had caused his long-time best friend to be paralyzed waist down.

You looked at Tony just standing there in front of Rhodey’s room and you bit your lower lip. “Tony, go,” you encouraged him. “I’ll keep you updated, okay? So go do what you have to do.”

TAG LIST:

@thevanishedillusion @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @plan3tmadison @tonystarkismydaddy @poemfreak306 @memyselfandandrea @jenniseiblack @sophiatomlinson23 @lilulo-12

#tony stark fanfic #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark imagines #tony stark x reader #iron man fanfic #iron man fanfiction #iron man x reader #tony stark #iron man #icmylm #tony stark imagine

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lovelycheollie · 7 years

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#30&46: Five Years And That Night (The8 fluff)

“Anyone who falls in love is searching for the missing pieces of themselves. So anyone who's in love gets sad when they think of their lover. It's like stepping back inside a room you have fond memories of, one you haven't seen in a long time.” ― Haruki Murakami

Words: 1989 I feel dead inside hahaha

Requested by my Tumblr Boo @chillihansol who loves her angsts deeply. This was longer than I anticipated it to be and I was shocked honestly. Hahahaah I made this one special for ya Hanni! This is for our cookie Minghaohao 💞 hope you guys like it!!

You’ve been with Minghao for five years now, and you couldn’t believe that you’re still together, happily in love with your so-called ideal man. Somehow meeting him in that coffee shop was no coincidence. You knew that destiny wanted to meet your soulmate, and he was already in front of you, wearing his black Nike cap and holding an iced americano. Problems may come at you two, but it was alright, since you and Minghao was a team, and you were assured that you were going to stay that way.

Then Minghao broke up with you. Or so you thought. You couldn’t feel his presence at all, almost like he wasn’t your boyfriend in the midst of the end of their world tour. You hesitated at the thought of him leaving you alone for some months, but Minghao made you believe that it was going to be okay, that it was going to be only for a while and that he will come back to you right away.

So he left with the group to meet their fans all over the world. Everything felt alright, Minghao was talking to you every time, asking you if you already ate, what you were doing, and you loved how he kept his promise. In your head, he made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world and he made sure that you were pampered with his looks and affection. But then suddenly, the replies were short, the talks felt forced, and on the night when the second to the last concert was done, he told you good bye and never contacted you again.

You glanced at the wall clock, feeling a bit of pain on your nape. It was already 6:35 p.m., making it a week and a half without hearing anything from him. Without sparing any second, you took your phone and checked Seventeen’s twitter account. They had just finished the world tour and you were expecting them to arrive at Seoul any minute. The fansite noonas have posted pictures of them walking inside the airport, and the other carats are stanning over Twitter, saying that Seventeen was now back home.

You snatched your trench coat from the corner of the bed, almost sliding down on the stairs and taking the keys to your apartment. A taxi stopped in front of the building and you jumped in, telling the driver to go to where Minghao and the rest was hiding from the public’s sight.

While on the road, your phone rang in your pocket and you checked who the caller was. Jun’s picture was on the screen and your fingers immediately pressed answer. “Hello, Jun?”

“Hey Y/N! We’re already back in Korea! Coups hyung wanted to have a small dinner with you, so I was wondering if you got the message from Minghao.”

“I… I didn’t receive anything from him.”

“You didn’t receive anything at all?”

“Nothing. Not even a simple hi.”

“I see. Well we wanted to celebrate the success of our world tour with our favorite Carat, so I hope you’ll come around at the usual place by 8:30,” you heard the boys cheer your name, and tears welled up on the corner of your eyes but you held back. Now wasn’t the time to spill emotions.

The taxi stopped its wheels and Seventeen’s dorm was on your plain sight. You stepped out, paying the driver more than he deserved and almost running to go inside the building. You showed your ID to the security guard and without wasting any second you rushed to the elevator. “I’m in the elevator now.”

“That was quick.”

“Is Hao there?”

There was a long pause coming from Jun. Whispers were obvious to your ears, and you couldn’t help but think that they were hiding something from you.

“Can you bring some apple juice from the convenience store when you come?”

“Jun you are not answering my question. Where is Minghao?”

“He’s in his room. He told us that his head hurts and he might come later at dinner.” That was all that you needed. You bid Jun good bye and that you will definitely come to dinner no matter what. Luckily, the elevator stopped at the floor where Minghao’s room was. You skimmed through the doors, only to find the door to his room unlocked.

You grabbed the handle and opened the door, exposing your boyfriend’s figure sitting on the edge of his bed, the room lit enough to see his blank eyes staring at the wall in front of him. His hand held a crumpled paper, the folds making it look like a letter from afar. When he heard you step into his haven, he rapidly turned his head to see you with a straight look on your face.

“Minghao,” you said, your lips trembling as you spilled his name. Every letter tasted like poison to you, but you were addicted to the sensation.

He ruffled his hair, hands quivering at the fact that he was seeing you again. “Hey.”

“How was the tour?”

“Fine. You could ask the boys if you want to know more.”

“A week and a half Hao, a week and a half without hearing anything from you. I waited for you, and for your replies and your promises. Where did it go?”

“I don’t know.”

You felt a vein pop on your head. He had the nerve to simply disregard you. Your eyebrows drew closer, your right hand making a fist and something went up to your throat and to hell with it as you let that feeling go. “I don’t know? That’s all you have to tell me? So your ‘I don’t know’ is where we end what we have?”

“Huh.”

“What the hell Minghao? You’re playing around with me! You made a promise to me but what? You broke it! You freaking broke it! And now you’re back, and I’m here in front of you wanting to clear this all up!”

“You don’t have to clear things up.”

“No I want to okay? I don’t want things to end up like this. Where did I go wrong? I thought we had something.”

“Y/N, you thought we had something?”

You stepped back when he rose up from the bed, his figure towering over you. That scared you a little, and for all you know a tear escaped your eyes. “So it was just me? Why are you pushing away my feelings for you? I love you. I really do. But why Minghao?”

His hands crumpled the paper he held, and just like that, he walked past you, leaving you alone inside his room where the two of you shared moments together. “Keep your thoughts to yourself.” He said, and shut the door with a mild bang.

All of the pent up emotions were released as your knees gave up and kneeled on the floor, your tears making marks on the carpet. Your lips were shaking, fingers trying to clear your eyes from the pain that Minghao caused. Five years, five years of loving him truly, and that was how it ended.

You left the room, making sure that the door was closed and went to the elevator straight away. The phone in your pocket rang again, and seeing that Jeonghan was trying to reach you, you cleared your throat and wiped your tear-streaked face. “Hello Jeonghannie?”

“Hey Y/N. Did you meet with Minghao? And are you coming now, the maknaes are waiting for you so that they can cut up the cake.”

“Oh, um, yeah, I did. And I’m in the elevator now so please wait for a minute.” You didn’t know what face you were going to wear for the boys. You didn’t want to make them sad because of the breakup, but you knew you couldn’t keep up with a smiling face.

Your footsteps were heavy as you reached the front door. In your head it was do or die, and as you opened the door, only the darkness welcomed you. You felt confused, were you in the right room?

One by one, candles were lit by each member, making a straight line in front of you. They were singing a love song you and Minghao knew by heart, and you couldn’t help but to let the tears fall again on your face. All the memories rushed to you, making you feel lonely without the man you loved the most.

Then the boys part in the middle, exposing Minghao wearing a white tuxedo and holding up a bouquet of white roses. He sang with the boys, adding more to the melody that you were hearing. Your heartbeats were fast, it felt hard to breathe as your head tried to analyze what was going on.

At the end of the song, the candle lights have died and the lights were on, the 12 boys giving their huge grins to you. Minghao was sweating as he handed the bouquet to you. “Jun, I can’t remember what I was about to say.

“One, one look was all it took me to know that it was destined to be. And I saw it in your eyes, and I knew that you felt that extraordinary spark. Two, two months was all it took me to fall in love with you. It also took me two months just to get your sweet yes.”

Everyone laughed again, including you who tried not to. “Three, three words that we both longed to hear from each other. Not ‘we are done’ but ‘I love you’. Four, four times we had fights where we almost broke up, but we still made it here. And five, five years of not wavering, not giving up. For five years it was you and me, and that’s how I want it to be.”

He then kneels on his right knee, checking his pocket for something. You felt nervous at what he was doing. First, he made you feel like total grabage and left you broken, but now he was kneeling in front of you, almost looking like he was proposing to you. “Y/N, tonight I made you feel bad. I made you think that we broke up, and that pained me too because I couldn’t do that at all. And the past week was no joke, I left you hanging alone, and I wanted to die right there. But within those days of not being with you, not hearing or seeing you made me realize, that five years isn’t enough for me to be with you.”

He took a small velvet box and opened it, showing off a silver ring with three embedded diamonds on it. Your hands went up to your face, covering your mouth. “We never had something Y/N, we had everything in our hands. And all I want to ask you is that, will you nurture that everything with me, now and forever, as husband and wife?”

“Yes!” You answered without any second thoughts, making the boys hoot for you two. Minghao sighed as he stood up, locking you into his embrace. His neck had cold sweat, but you didn’t mind and settled your hands right there. He kissed you on your cheek but you slightly pulled away.

“So I was going to be proposed at. But you made me cry earlier, meanie.”

“Hey, between you and I, Jun isn’t the only one with the best acting skills.”

“Are you guys done, ‘cause we are about to serve the cake,” Vernon said as he held the knife with his hand, the rest of the group still cheering and congratulating the two of you. Minghao looked at you and you missed that stare, the one that made you feel that you’re adored. For five years of loving him, a night with mixed emotions just like this was enough.

“Do you want some of the cake, soon-to-be Mrs. Xu?”

“Don’t mind if I do, Mr. Xu.”

#seventeen #svt #sebeuntin #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen prompts #seventeen prompt requests #seventeen the8 #the8 imagine #the8 scenarios #minghao scenarios #minghao imagines #the8 fluff #minghao fluff

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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artificialqueens · 7 years

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your body as a museum of careless gestures (biadore) - dylann

A/N:

Adore’s impulsive, sure.

But she’s more “don’t sober up at all for 36 hours because you’re sad you can’t randomly drop your own responsibilities and fly out to Europe” impulsive than “actually fly out to Europe” impulsive.

(or

Bianca is vulnerable, homesickness is a real bitch, Europe is very far away and plane tickets are unreasonably priced. Also, old patterns are hard to break, especially when you don’t even want to break them.

A reunion fic, everyone. That’s what this is.

Drag names and she/her pronouns for both throughout most of this. Shoutout to Dare for some solid constructive criticism and noticing my missing paragraph breaks.

Content warnings for mentions of weed and alcohol; sex; minor breathplay)

They FaceTime once, in early August, while Bianca’s at an airport somewhere in Europe, and Adore’s shitfaced in Seattle.

She’s home after a local show, still in full makeup, but she’s pulled her wig off and her own hair is piled up at the top of her head in a messy approximation of a bun. Her phone keeps flashing on every couple of minutes, lighting up with various notifications.

Bianca liking a recent Instagram post, or the occasional tweet, or commenting on pictures they’re both tagged in. It’s the clear signs of someone who’s bored and in some sort of situation where they can’t do much besides fuck about on their phone.

Adore knows she shouldn’t text because— well, because she isn’t having the best night anyway, and while talking to Bianca might help at first, it’d probably fuck her up worse in the long run.

She’s stripped down to her underwear and the remnants of a practically destroyed Sex Pistols tank top when her phone buzzes again. It’s another Facebook comment, and she caves.

To Bea 🍹 (3:27:02am) how the fuck bored are you??

Bianca fires back a 😂 almost immediately, and then types a response. The three dots that indicate her thinking pop up a few times, until she settles on

To Adore 🔞 Delano (3:30:03am) Airport. Plane’s delayed.

(3:30:12am) cafe’s not even open, I hate Europe.

Adore mutters “No, you don’t,” to herself as she situates herself in the middle of her bed. Last night’s bowl is still half-packed at the sill of her open window, and she thanks past-Adore for being so considerate as she picks it up and takes a hit.

And then she remembers Bianca can’t actually hear her.

To Bea 🍹 (3:31:45am) no you dont

(3:31:57am) can i call you???

To Adore 🔞 Delano (3:32:05am) 🙃👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼

Adore props her phone on her nightstand, and tilts the small reading lamp so it hits her face from the right angle. She’s wearing very light sea green contacts, and she knows for a fact her eyes look stunning.

The connection takes a moment and then the black screen lights up to reveal Roy who looks like a parody of an airplane traveller. He’s clearly exhausted and bleary-eyed under the rim of his baseball cap, and he’s wearing a plush fuchsia pink travel pillow around his neck like a goddamn statement piece.

Adore lets out a delighted laugh, and then goes,

“You look horrible.”

“It’s good to see you too,” Roy laughs, giving his camera a long look. “Isn’t it, like, way past your bedtime?”

“Has anyone ever told you you use emoji like a thirteen year old girl with a secret Instagram account?” Adore fires back.

“Are you calling me old?” Roy asks, feigning offense well enough that it makes Adore break and she shoots the camera a shit-eating grin as she nods and lights up her bowl again.

“Call me old one more time and I’ll buy a house somewhere in central Europe, take up farming, and never fucking come back,” Roy threatens lightly.

“No one would miss you here,” Adore says, perhaps a second too late to be funny.

Roy doesn’t answer, which is fine. Adore is usually obsessed with filling silences, like it’s her personal responsibility to make sure everyone’s constantly entertained. Roy’s an exception.

They’ve been silent around each other enough that it hasn’t felt awkward in years.

“How’s Europe?” she asks eventually.

“Fun. Loud. Really fucking hot,“ Roy shrugs. He reaches up and presses his thumb against the bridge of his nose before rubbing along the outline of his eye socket. It’s rare and unsettling to see him that quiet and clearly drained.

Adore smokes and watches him as she contemplates how okay it’d be to say what’s actually on her mind.

“Hey, Bea?” she says quietly, as she shifts to lie down on her stomach.

“Yeah?”

“You look really tired. But um— I hope you’re just tired? Europe’s not making you, like, sad, is it?” Adore trails off for a second and presses her eyes shut as she refocuses. “That’s dumb. I mean. A continent can’t make you sad, right? I don’t know—“

“I’m fine,” Roy says and his face lights up with a small, fond smile which makes him look more like himself. “How are you doing? You look—“

“Fucking wasted?” Adore supplies. She aims for a joke but it just kind of comes out tired and flat. Plus, selling Roy the whole act is kind of pointless. “Yeah. I had a weird night, I don’t know. The whole album thing is fucking stressing me out.”

“People are gonna love it,” Roy says quickly, earnestly. He seems more awake. “They’re gonna eat that shit up.”

“You’re supposed to say that ‘cause you love me,” Adore whines jokingly, but then he just shrugs and nods in agreement, which makes her soften. “Thanks. Honestly. It’s just so— people wanna hear the old shit, you know? And the new stuff’s so different, I just— what if they don’t wanna hear it?”

“They keep asking for the old stuff ‘cause they haven’t heard your new stuff,” Roy reasons. He’s holding his headphones’ microphone close to his lips and it sort of feels like he’s in the room and talking directly to her if she closes her eyes.

“You’re right. Thanks, Bea,” she sighs, and then bites her lip as she adds softly, “I miss you.”

“Come to Europe,” Roy laughs a little. He can always recognize when she’s on the brink of some sad spiral and can usually pull her right back out. Adore opens her eyes to watch him laugh at the camera.

It’s impossible not to smile back.

“Right, are you gonna fly me out?” she laughs, making a show of pursing her lips at the camera.

“You wish,” Roy grins, and then his eyes drift over to something out of frame. Some sort of airport announcement comes through the speaker of Adore’s phone, entirely too far away and jumbled to be understandable.

“Hey, listen, I gotta go,” Roy says. “I might finally get to make it to a plane.”

“Awesome, fly safe,” Adore nods, scrunching up her nose as she fights off a yawn.

“You get some rest,” Roy adds. “This was fun, let’s—“

“More often. Yeah. I’ll call you.”

Adore smiles, and they say their goodbyes and hang up.

And then they don’t talk again for weeks.

***

The morning after the last FaceTime call, Adore had woken up with a screenshot of her own bank account, and a bunch of screenshots of various potential flights on her phone. Looking at them (and maybe the hangover) had made her sick, and she’d deleted them with her eyes half closed.

Adore’s impulsive, sure.

It’d been days, maybe weeks, after the call when an ad had popped up on her Instagram feed, quite aggressively advertising Bianca’s upcoming gig on Fire Island.

New York is, in comparison to central Europe, closer.

Closer, easier to get to, slightly more reasonable.

So Adore had called her manager and said she’d do that one interview she had scheduled over the phone, and that she was going to be out of town for a few days. Her manager wasn’t impressed, but it was just a weekend, and she’d already made up her mind.

She doesn’t really call or let anyone else know she’s going.

When she walks into the club, the security guard gives her and her ID a long, curious look, but other than that, it’s dark enough that no one really notices or pays attention to her.

She’s wearing a Bianca t-shirt she’s mercilessly cut up into a douchey tank top tucked into a short, faux leather mini skirt with an unnecessarily chunky zipper in the front. Underneath the tank top, she’s in a lacy black bandeau that only draws attention to the boy chest, which is the exact effect she’s aiming for. The tight fishnet covering her legs culminates in heeled combat boots. Her hair is long and black and just messy enough that from afar, she looks like she could be just another girl here for the show.

It’s great, and she feels kind of incognito, even though she’s not necessarily trying to hide. She’s just not here to put on a show, either.

When she gets a drink, the bartender shoots her a knowing grin and says this one’s on the house, she only smiles back and thanks him and doesn’t argue. There’s being lowkey, and then there’s just being plain stupid.

The club is already pretty full, and it’s crowded by the time Bianca takes the stage to host.

Adore doesn’t quite care for the actual event and she lets herself be distracted watching her even when she’s off to the side, and clearly not supposed to be pulling the focus.

It’s impossible for Bianca not to pull focus. In a bodycon dress that somehow manages to be both leopard and floral and still be incredible, she looks like every wet dream Adore’s ever had. Bianca’s focused and attentive, she watches each performance and laughs along, and her lips are so shiny, and her eyes are so bright, and Adore is so tempted to make her way over to the stage and pull her off now, like she can’t wait another minute.

But the reality is, she’s waited this long and now that she’s here, Adore wants to do this right. So she sits back, accepts a couple more drinks from the bartender, and lives out her groupie fantasy, screaming and howling with laugher as if she’s just there to prove she can be louder than everyone else in the club.

At the end of the show, Bianca performs a number and the crowd goes wild, and Adore wants to be cheering with them, except she’s transfixed, breathless as she watches Bianca in her element.

“It never fucking gets old,” Adore yells at the bartender once Bianca’s left the stage. Her ears are ringing.

“She’s great,” he agrees, sliding another refill across the bar for her.

“She’s the best,” Adore corrects. “Can you send her a large gin backstage? Tell her it’s from a fan who claims to know her.

The bartender laughs and fixes a drink, and Adore, who’s only human, watches the sway of his hips as he walks through an unmarked door behind the bar which presumably leads backstage.

When Bianca comes out (from a different door, off to the side), she scans the club past the faces of people who notice her and either try to flock to her, or take a few steps back in some sort of classical awe. She glances around with a look Adore has come to realize means she’s expecting to see an acquaintance who’s dropped her name in hopes for a drink and a catchup.

Then, Bianca notices her and her entire face shifts.

Adore watches her face go from a public, performative smile through shock, through defeat, all the way to blossoming into a genuine smile within a split second. Bianca mouths something in her direction and heads over, and Adore’s heart is pounding so hard in her chest that it makes her cough.

Then, Bianca’s in front of her and pulling her into a hug, and saying into her ear,

“You motherfucker.”

Adore laughs loudly, pulling back just enough to catch Bianca’s eyes and grin at her.

“You absolute motherfucker,” Bianca repeats. “You could’ve called—“

“I wanted to surprise you,” Adore shrugs, as if it’s that simple, and Bianca softens.

“Well, I am surprised,” she laughs. Her hands are still around Adore’s waist and she’s becoming more aware of that by the second. “But I left my drink in the dressing room so we’re gonna have to continue being surprised there.”

Adore just nods. She picks up her glass and follows Bianca through the crowd. When Bianca reaches back, she slips her hand in hers, and hopes the club is just dark and confusing enough that no one would see.

***

“I can’t believe you just pulled this shit,” Bianca says as they walk into the dressing room, which is cool and only illuminated by the lightbulbs that line the mirror.

She closes her eyes for a split second and Adore watches her stage poise and energy leave her body like air from a recently popped balloon.

“I wanted to see your face,” Adore shrugs, and squeezes her hand as she brings herself closer. “Plus, it’s been a while since I’ve watched you—“

“Tonight wasn’t that good,” Bianca says quietly. “It’s not even technically my show…“

Adore bites her lip, and takes a sip of her drink as she says,

“I wasn’t gonna push but— are you okay? I mean, you seem—“

“I’m okay,”

Bianca pulls her hand away from Adore’s and walks around to sit down on the makeup chair, her back turned to the room. Adore just kind of stands there, swallowing uneasily once they break contact. Bianca is never like this, and witnessing it is terrifying, and Adore’s chest is tight as she attempts to figure out how she’d help the most.

“I just feel like I’ve been away for so long, you know?” Bianca says suddenly. Her voice is barely audible over the dull, unrecognizable bass that filters through the walls. “I’m not even sure if I’m away from— This summer’s just going by so fast. I feel like I’m always catching up with people. Like, tonight, when I stepped out—“

“You looked fucking terrified,” Adore supplies. She’s taken one cautious step towards Bianca’s chair and is hovering there.

“‘cause I was,” Bianca agrees, and it comes out in a shaky laugh. “Fuck, Adore, I was so worried I was gonna have to sit down and have a chat with some local queen I haven’t seen in years and make it look like I’m having the time of my life, you know?”

“Yeah. I know.”

Years of sharing dressing rooms have taught Adore that usually, Bianca would be out of all of her drag by this point. Now, she’s just sitting there, her eyes distant as she looks into the mirror but not really at herself.

Adore sighs and walks the rest of the distance to the makeup table, planting herself directly behind the chair. She drapes her arms over Bianca’s shoulders and crosses her wrists at her chest. Bianca’s hand comes up to cover her wrist, pressing down just a little, as if she’s afraid Adore might pull back.

Bianca’s nails are a dark shade of greenish gold and they glitter as they catch the mirror light. Adore wants to tell her she’s never looked more beautiful.

“It just gets kinda lonely,” Bianca says, quiet enough that Adore isn’t sure if it’s for her at all. She doesn’t answer.

Instead, she moves her hand just a little underneath Bianca’s, so she can run her thumb along the side of Bianca’s hand. Bianca sighs and closes her eyes again. Her eyelashes cast long shadows down her cheeks.

Adore doesn’t move, just lets Bianca breathe and take in the physical weight of her presence, lets her be quiet until she seems a little bit more grounded. Adore can feel it under her arms when Bianca exhales a long breath and her shoulders relax.

“Well, I’m here now,” Adore says finally, quiet and intimate, and it feels like dipping one toe in cool water.

She hasn’t planned this far in advance, never knows quite where they stand when they’ve been away from each other for so long, only knows that she’s here, and she’s here for Bianca, in whatever capacity Bianca needs her to be.

“Yeah— motherfucker,” Bianca repeats softly, in an almost-laugh. “You’re here.”

Then, she makes the choice for Adore.

Bianca pushes the chair back and stands up, turning around to face Adore in one swift, decisive motion. Adore catches her eyes and when Bianca tilts her chin down in the slightest of nods, it’s enough.

Adore launches herself forward, resting a gentle hand at the curve of Bianca’s neck as she kisses her with all the intent of an innocent death row inmate who’s been granted one last wish. Bianca responds almost immediately, her hands coming to rest at the small of Adore’s back. Adore (who, again, is only human) rolls her hips into the touch, which gets a noise halfway between a groan and a laugh from Bianca. It sounds more like her than anything Adore’s heard from her so far tonight.

“Missed you,” Bianca whispers once she pulls back. Up close, her eyes are so incredibly bright.

“I’m here.”

“You are.”

They exchange reassurances in a terribly familiar rhythm, and something in Adore’s chest twists a little. It must show on her face because Bianca says “Shhh” even though she’s silent, and is then she’s kissing her again.

This one lasts longer. Bianca licks her way past Adore’s dark plum lips and all Adore can do is respond in small, breathless sounds as she drops one hand down to grip the table behind Bianca, essentially trapping Bianca between herself and the tabletop.

A bunch of lipsticks fall down and maybe something rolls off the table, and Adore lets out a careless laugh into Bianca’s mouth. Her world feels lighter than it has in months. She doesn’t want to think about it at all.

Bianca distracts her, luckily, as she drops her hands past her ass to brush her fingers under Adore’s skirt. Underneath the thin layer of fishnet, Adore’s — unsurprisingly — untucked and wearing the tiniest briefs which leave most of her ass bare. Upon making that discovery for herself, Bianca lets out a laugh which is both appreciation and utter defeat.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Adore Delano,” she hums, pulling back to draw in a very deep breath.

It’s overdramatic but earnest and Adore feels so fucking wanted.

“I dress to impress,” she says sweetly.

“Jesus,” Bianca whispers, and her exasperated smile reaches all the way to her eyes. “Shut up.”

Adore laughs loudly, and it comes from deep in her chest. This is easier than anything else she’s done in so long. She knows Bianca feels the exact same way because she’s still laughing as she kisses her again.

By the time Bianca pulls back again, Adore’s hard and dizzy and the only coherent thought in her head is a vague curiosity about whether the door to the dressing room locks.

“Where are you staying?” Bianca is asking quietly. The outline of her lipliner has blurred and her eyes are dark and bearing so much promise it makes Adore’s head spin.

She grins in response.

She has one bag — a way too expensive designer carryon — that she’d dropped at a friend’s apartment before explaining that no, she didn’t need a place to crash, just storage room, thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow.

She hadn’t bothered with a plan B.

“You bitch,” Bianca laughs fondly. “Yeah. Come on.”

***

Bianca’s hotel room is tiny and taken over almost entirely by the bed in the center. There’s a suitcase half-open in one corner. The lights are off, and the room is instead illuminated by the pale orange glow of street lamps filtering through the (truly hideous) cream tulle curtains.

Adore’s head is swimming. She lets herself fall back onto the mattress, laughing breathlessly as she props herself up on her elbows to look at Bianca who pauses a few steps away to kick off her heels.

“Hold on—“ Bianca starts, heading over to the small table in front of the mirror.

“No, no, no,” Adore says quickly. “No time. Come here—“

Bianca laughs as she stretches to pull the zipper of her own dress down.

“Fine. Just this, then,” she negotiates and Adore nods, and falls silent as she watches her strip and unclip her wig to pull it off.

It’s rare for Bianca to stay in drag when they hook up, but de-dragging takes too long, and Adore is too turned on to survive waiting for her any longer than she absolutely has to.

Plus,

“You look so fucking beautiful,” Adore whispers, lowering herself onto her back as Bianca crawls on top of her. She’s completely naked now and it’s purely instinct when Adore reaches for her cock. Bianca catches her wrist and pulls her hand away, her lips curving in an amused smirk.

“You’re so fucking impatient,” she says quietly and Adore responds with a low groan because Yeah, no shit, aren’t you?

“You’re right,” Bianca agrees, still smirking like some wicked demon of temptation from the depths of Hell when she comes down to catch Adore’s lips in a messy kiss. Adore’s all about hyperbole when it comes to Bianca.

And then Bianca’s grinding her hips down as she licks a hot stripe down the side of Adore’s neck, and literally nothing in Adore’s entire life has ever felt nearly as good.

“That’s cute,” Bianca comments, her lips almost brushing the thin strip of leather. Adore’s wearing a simple one-ring choker, and her face turns a deep shade of pink the second Bianca decides to acknowledge it.

“Told you,” she smirks, and manages to school her voice into an almost challenging singsong. “I dress to impress.”

“Stop talking,” Bianca replies lowly, hooking a finger through the ring to tug Adore up as she kisses her again. Adore’s eyes fall shut and she gasps helplessly into the kiss, and then all she can do is part her lips for Bianca’s tongue.

Adore’s tank top and the lacy bandeau are long gone. She’s still wearing the skirt, and tights, and briefs, and that’s three layers too many, and she’s so uncomfortably hard, and Bianca knows and is ignoring her because apparently, Bianca likes to torture people.

(Which is, on occasion, actually true. And welcomed. Just—)

“Bea,” Adore whines, actually whines, because this is unbearable. “Not right now, Jesus, please.”

“No?”

“No. Come on, I’m done waiting, fuck me now, please,” the last word comes out indignant, as if she’s only saying it to be polite but she doesn’t really want to. It works for Bianca, apparently, because she lets go of the choker and refocuses both of her hands’ attention to unzipping Adore’s skirt.

The zipper goes all the way down and the skirt comes undone.

“You thought this through,” Bianca hums, audibly entertained, and Adore drives her hips up in response because Hurry up, yeah I have, I want this, I’m ready, hurry up.

Bianca peels her tights and her underwear down her legs at the same time and brings them all the way down to her ankles but doesn’t take them off.

“I like the boots,” she explains, breath heavy and hot against the inside of Adore’s thigh. “We’re keeping them on.”

Adore feels filthy, like this part of it is somehow taboo, and her dick is already slick with precome against her stomach. She crosses her ankles and lets her knees fall open to the sides, and Bianca responds with an appreciative groan which makes her twitch.

Adore keeps her eyes closed as she listens to the distant sound of a plastic cap popping open, and then two lubed up fingers are pressing against her and she’s gone.

Bianca preps her quickly, efficiently, because any attempt she makes at slowing down is met by Adore with disjointed sounds of protest and helpless jerks of her hips.

“Now,” she moans eventually as she hovers with her hips pushed off the mattress, desperately trying to get more of Bianca. “Now, I’m ready, come on, fuck me now.”

A moment passes in which Bianca considers making her beg, just to get a rise out of her, but Adore is a picture of uncensored want with her messy hair spilling across the pillows, and her flushed dick, and the small crease in her forehead, and frankly, Bianca’s growing too impatient to tease.

Adore cries out loudly when Bianca pushes into her, sending stars flying behind her closed eyelids. Bianca’s propped a pillow under her hips and the angle is torturous and absolutely fucking perfect. Adore’s thighs shake with tension as Bianca thrusts all the way in, almost too slowly, letting Adore adjust to the sensation. It’s already so much, and yet not nearly enough.

Bianca moves experimentally and it draws a soft whimper from Adore. “Yeah— I’m ready, come on.”

And then, Bianca’s off. She grips Adore’s hips to tilt her up and picks up the pace as her nails dig half-moons into Adore’s ass. Adore is incoherent, meeting each thrust with small moans and broken, disconnected swearwords. Her lips are parted and swollen and glossy with spit, and Bianca stares in admiration for a moment before arching down to kiss her.

Bianca kisses like Adore’s darkest secret is hiding at the back of her mouth and there’s never going to be another way to get to it. It’s disorienting, like walking through darkness. Adore’s ears are ringing. Bianca pulls one hand away from her hips and a second later she’s tugging on Adore’s choker again. This time, she hooks her index finger under the strap and pinches it between the knuckle of her middle finger and her thumb. The leather digs into Adore’s throat and she feels it like fireworks at the back of her skull.

Bianca keeps her lips just out of reach as she tightens her grip on the choker, and it drives Adore to crane her neck, desperately chasing after a kiss she can’t quite reach. The leather digs into her neck and she coughs right as Bianca thrusts her cock deeper inside of her, at a slightly different angle which makes Adore want to scream.

The sound that comes out is closer to a strangled whine, and Bianca meets it with a low laugh which makes Adore blush. Her chest is so tight she feels like she’s one second, one stray touch, one jerk of Bianca’s hips away from bursting wide open.

“Bea—“ she starts, and it’s barely sound. She gasps, dragging in more air. Bianca’s grip doesn’t falter. “Bea. I’m—“

Adore’s voice breaks a loud moan as Bianca drops her hand to her cock. Bianca laughs quietly, breathlessly, as she tightens her grip and gives her a few experimental strokes. Adore accompanies each stroke with a whimper as Bianca picks up her pace so her hand can match the rhythm of her hips. Adore’s brow is beaded with sweat and her hair is sticking to her face and she looks absolutely gone as she drives her hips up, over and over, in an endless race to meet Bianca halfway.

She comes first, with Bianca’s name in a sharp moan on her lips, cum streaking through Bianca’s fingers and onto her stomach.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Bianca groans quietly, arching down to trace kisses along the red mark lining Adore’s neck as she keeps fucking into her in deep, quick thrusts, chasing her own release.

Adore is shaking, spent and oversensitive and unabashedly loud as each move sends a new wave of aftershocks through her body.

When Bianca comes, she goes perfectly still, perfectly silent, her eyes pressed tightly shut and her lips parted in a soundless scream. Adore, who’s watching her through heavy, hooded eyelids, chokes out a moan instead of her.

Then, the only sound Adore can focus on is her own heartbeat pounding in her ears as Bianca lowers herself down, burrowing her face against Adore’s neck. She doesn’t quite kiss this time, just rests there, her breath warm against the cooling sweat on Adore’s skin.

Adore drifts. It takes a minute, or maybe an hour, she’d never know for sure, and Bianca’s growing soft inside of her but neither of them moves. Adore’s limbs feel heavy, inoperable, and she thinks distractedly that maybe that’s not too big of a deal, maybe she can just be there for the rest of her natural existence and she would be okay with that.

Then Bianca moves. She pulls herself away slowly, carefully, like she doesn’t mean to disturb, and Adore still winces at the loss.

“Gotta get you cleaned up,” Bianca says softly. Her voice sounds raw, spent, and Adore finds herself hoping it’s still like that tomorrow. She wants people to talk to Bianca and know.

The sound of the bathroom sink running and Bianca’s footsteps sound so far away and Adore closes her eyes, lets them lull her into a half-sleep as her body cools down and stops shaking.

Minutes later, perhaps, Bianca returns with a warm, damp towel, and Adore breathes steadily as she cleans her up, too tired and too gone to do much but accept it. Then it’s more footsteps, to the bathroom and back.

Then, Bianca’s hands are working her boots open and pulling them off, along with the mess of fabric tangled around her ankles. It feels private in a new sort of way, as if this is where the moment would usually have to break but Bianca’s not letting that happen. Adore’s chest tightens and she lets out the smallest noise as she swallows dryly.

“You okay?” Bianca asks, all gentle attentiveness, as she climbs up and rests behind her, one arm coming to drape over Adore’s hips, her hand angled up to rest at her sternum.

“Yeah.” Adore’s throat scratches, and she knows she’ll wake up needing water. Bianca makes a sound like she doesn’t quite believe her, so Adore amends, “I’m here.”

Bianca laughs. It’s almost inaudible but Adore feels it against her back.

“Yeah,” Bianca whispers. She presses her lips against Adore’s shoulder and holds them there for a long time. “You are.”

***

A/N: the title is from this poem which you should definitely read, it’s beautiful.

#dylann #biadore #adore delano #bianca del rio #angst #hurt/comfort #weed cw #alcohol cw #breathily cw #rpdr fanfiction #submission #canon compliant

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scenes-in-between · 7 years

Text

Within

“Mulder? Are you in here?”

Her heart is still racing from the mix of adrenaline and fierce, fierce hope. Could he really be back? Is he moments from stepping out of the shadows and wrapping her in his arms and telling her everything is going to be okay? Her entire body is bowstring-taut with anticipation as she listens for any sign of movement within the apartment.

When her gaze lands on the desk, on the space where her laptop is now conspicuously absent, the sight is so unexpected that she stares in disbelief, the truth of the situation not really hitting her fully until she physically walks over and picks up the disconnected power cables. That’s when she knows, for certain, that of course it was too much to hope for.

Whoever her landlord saw, it wasn’t Mulder.

Something in her deflates, and all at once she feels shaky and nauseated again. She barely makes it to the bathroom in time, but it doesn’t even matter; nothing comes up. Unsteadily, she sits on the edge of the bathtub and rests her head in her hands. Is this how her body is going to respond to every strong emotional moment now?

She tells herself it’s her investigator’s instinct that leads her to grab a jacket and keys and head out through the rain to Alexandria. She rationalizes that whoever stole her computer might also want to take Mulder’s and that going to his apartment might either help her catch them or prevent it from happening. Her decision has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that misses him so badly the thought of spending tonight alone in her own bed is suddenly unbearable.

(It’s not as though she will be any less alone at his place. The very notion of feeling closer to him merely by surrounding herself with his belongings is completely irrational.)

Calm determination sustains her for the drive over, her resolve only slipping momentarily once she’s standing in front of his apartment door, force of habit and muscle memory causing her to tap out their knock against the wood. The sound makes her breath hitch, and she can’t help the irrational surge of hope that somehow this has all just been a terrible dream.

But of course there is no answer, and she swallows back the bitter disappointment as she pulls out his key and unlocks the door herself.

***

“I’m just trying to find him.” “Then what are you doing here?” “Trying to figure these out. I found them in his desk there. Car rental receipts on Agent Mulder’s Visa.”

Damn it. Those receipts have nothing to do with Mulder or where he is right now, but she absolutely cannot explain to Agent Doggett how she knows that.

“Four consecutive weekends in May. Same mileage each trip -- 370 miles, 375 miles. Where was he going?”

Mulder wasn’t going anywhere. The first weekend in May, they were on a stakeout in front of that godawful night club. The next one, he was chasing crop circles in England. The one after that, they were both in L.A. for the movie premiere. And as for last weekend… she has to force herself not to unwittingly glance toward his bedroom.

Byers was the one taking the car trips. Something to do with the woman he ran into in Las Vegas last year, the woman he and Langly and Frohike helped go into hiding. Scully’s not entirely sure of the details, didn’t need to know beyond the fact that it was important enough for Mulder to help him cover his tracks. If Doggett does his homework well enough, he will figure out the discrepancy eventually; Scully doesn’t need to help him get there any sooner.

She probably should invent some explanation, give him an answer so he’ll stop looking, but she can’t seem to come up with anything plausible on the spot. Instead, she does her best to look as genuinely clueless as possible. “I don’t know.”

“Like I said, maybe you really didn’t know your partner.”

It is only by the grace of God that he’s interrupted by his phone just then. Indignation and sudden rage at his smug assertion nearly make her contradict him with admissions she will one hundred percent regret.

“John Doggett. Agent Mulder at the FBI?”

Her stomach flips, and the emotional whiplash is almost enough to short-circuit her brain. She pins her gaze to his face, searching for anything that could possibly explain the words that just came out of his mouth.

There’s no way.

If Mulder had been returned, he would have come home. Or gone to her place. He would not have gone to the office, especially not without so much as calling her.

“I see.” Doggett shakes his head ever so slightly, still holding her gaze, and she can barely keep from rolling her eyes. She is so goddamned sick of the games, of feeling like she’s ten steps behind on every aspect of this investigation. “Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He finally looks away from her and down at his phone as he hangs it up. “Seems Agent Mulder may have visited headquarters last night. His pass-card was used to access the task force base of operations.”

This time she does roll her eyes. “And I don’t suppose anyone actually witnessed him.”

“They’re checking security camera footage as we speak. May I ask where you were last night between one and two AM?”

She stares at him. “Are you serious?”

“It's a simple question, Agent Scully.”

“No, it's an insulting question, Agent Doggett. I am sick and tired of being treated like a suspect, here.”

His demeanor is infuriatingly calm; it is especially galling considering she's barely holding herself together. “Maybe you should consider trying not to act like one, then. Maybe instead of fighting me at every turn, you can start cooperating. See, because otherwise, it starts to look like maybe you don't want Mulder found.”

A bitter laugh bubbles up out of her. “If you think I don't want to find Mulder--”

“Or maybe you know exactly where he is and what he's up to, only you don't want me to find him.”

She crosses her arms, glaring at him. “I was at home. Asleep.” It’s not exactly a lie; Mulder’s apartment feels more like home than her own place does, right now. Besides, if Doggett contradicts her claim, it will prove he had her under surveillance.

He studies her a moment, almost as if he’s deciding whether or not to challenge her. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he says at last. “Okay. We’d better get back to the office and see what’s on those tapes. That is, if you’re finished here.”

They’re not going to find anything on the security cameras. Whatever’s going on with the apparent use of Mulder’s pass-card, she knows without a doubt that he wasn’t at the FBI last night. It’s just another dead end that will get them no closer to actually finding him. While Doggett and his team run around chasing their tails, Mulder is slipping farther and farther away.

It occurs to her, then, that she doesn’t so much as have her own work ID with her; she didn’t exactly think things through when she ran over here last night. She also hasn’t eaten anything, either, and if she has to put up with much more of Doggett’s condescension without having any breakfast, she just might lose her cool entirely.

He’s still waiting for an answer, she realizes, and she quickly nods. “I, um, I need to run an errand on my way back to the Hoover Building. I’ll meet you there.”

***

“They are looking to find the whereabouts of good, hard proof. That in this case exists in a person. In a boy named Gibson Praise.”

Skinner’s eyes widen in understanding. Clearly he remembers Gibson, which is good, because Scully’s mind is running a mile a minute right now, and she doesn’t want to stop and rehash everything.

“The chess phenom?” Frohike pipes up. “I thought you said he was some kind of mind reader.”

Right. She forgot that she consulted with the Gunmen on Gibson’s case, too. That will make this even easier.

“We determined that a genetic anomaly was the most likely cause of his ability. Specifically, there are segments of his DNA that appear to be extraterrestrial in origin.”

“No freaking way,” Frohike breathes, and Byers lets out a low whistle.

“But the point,” she continues quickly, “is that the last place we saw him was Arizona. If someone were looking for him, and all they had to go on was our report -- the report in Gibson’s file -- that’s where they would go.”

“You’re saying that’s the file that was stolen from the FBI?” Skinner says.

“I am saying that it would go a long way toward explaining a lot of what’s been going on around here the past couple of days. They’re trying to get us looking in the wrong direction, to make it seem like Mulder’s orchestrating everything.”

“Because if we think he’s here, running around stealing computers and case files, then there would be no reason to keep looking for him elsewhere.”

“Exactly.”

It’s even bigger than that, though. If the point is to discredit Mulder and cast doubt on his motivations, then of course the medical records are also fake. Of course Skinner was right when he said Mulder would have told them about something that big. The headstone Mulder supposedly purchased, which threw her so completely into turmoil this afternoon, seems so over the top now as to be downright laughable.

She hates herself more than a little bit for doubting him, for even considering that he might have been capable of such deceit.

“Well, then I’ll get us booked on the first flight to Phoenix tomorrow morning,” Skinner says, leaning forward to gather the maps and satellite data. “With any luck, we’ll get to them before they move on again.”

She paces from room to room for a while after Skinner and the Gunmen have left; they’ve already lost so much time, and now that they finally have a potential lead, she can hardly stand the fact that they have to wait until morning to follow up on it. It's a helpless sort of feeling, and she hates it. So she paces. Some ridiculous part of her is tempted to go back over to Mulder's apartment again, as if she might be better able to find calm there, but that's completely impractical. Skinner will be back here in just over six hours to pick her up on the way to the airport.

Even though exhaustion does eventually send her to lie down on her bed, she never does manage to fall asleep.

#x-files fanfic #txf: within #scullyfic #angst #msr #a/n: and we're back!#this one features a few more on-screen moments than usual #also i wanted to give a shoutout to #kateyes224 #for giving me the idea about byers being the reason for those mysterious car rentals ;)#eta: whoops i forgot the #mulder's stupid brain disease thing #tag

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nblahova · 4 years

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Three Days

21.03.2020

I’m sitting in the kitchen of my grandparents' old apartment. I’m alone, and will, with no exception, stay alone for the next 14 days. I’m wearing my flowery kimono, listening to jazz, drinking Turkish coffee. My brain is full of the happenings of past days. The worst three days of my life.

On 17th March I was still in Amsterdam, the city that’s been home of mine for past 6,5 years. I decided to pause my part-time job and to stay at home as much as possible. My health condition puts me in risk group and I assumed taking distance from everyone is the most responsible, not just for myself but for the others too. I planned on waiting it through at home, and i felt safe, felt good. I thought how exciting it is to be told to take it slow, to read, watch movies, hopefully start planning and making work for my upcoming solo show in June.

I’ve questioned my position in Amsterdam in past months, especially after I graduated. I’ve never been very nationalistic in sense of thinking that my home country is the best place for me. However, after finishing art school I slowly started to play with the idea of moving back - I missed the nature, I missed the real grown food in our countryside home, I thought artists maybe have it a little lighter and easier over there. Over past months I’ve been switching between “I need to go back”, “I’m scared to go back” and “I cannot let myself go back”. Oh, how irrelevant those thoughts and feelings are now! No one would have thought we all appear in strange times like these.

I’ve been subletting a house from a girl, who went on Erasmus to Prague. On 17th March she called me saying her studies have been cancelled and she has to return back to The Netherlands. She packed her bags and went back home the following day. At this point the pressure from my family was real strong - they wanted me back in Slovakia no matter what - and the chances to return were already limited. We made a quick decision to pack my stuff in the boxes (after 6 weeks of living there), pack my suitcases and book the very last flight to Vienna. I was lucky to get the very last seat on that plane, knowing that the airport would shut down the same day at midnight. I cried and cried, thinking how unfair and unfortunate it is, how nothing worse can happen to me. Leaving my life behind (in boxes), leaving my love, my friends. I cried as my boyfriend dropped me off at Amsterdam airport, I cried in the departure hall. I spent an hour waiting in line to get my suitcase checked in. People were nervous, there was an obvious fear in the hall. Almost like the one I remember from those times of terrorist attacks. I could sense everyone feeling vulnerable, unsafe.

When I finally got to check in desk, the lady behind cheerfully congratulated me on being able to take the last plane ever. We laughed about my suitcase being just 22.9kg, and how I managed to pack my life for unknown future within the allowed limit. Just after I handed her my passport she looked at the computer screen and went “Hopla. New update.” It must have been around 12:40 around that time. Apparently, just minutes before someone has decided to allow only Austrian citizens on this plane. None of this was mentioned on any websites around that time (I kept thoroughly checking Amsterdam Schiphol airport website, Vienna Schwechat airport website, KLM airline website). I was rejected. Explaining how Vienna airport is actually where all Slovaks fly, how close it is to our borders and how every other country surrounding Slovakia is shut down was of no use. I was not allowed to board this plane. I took all my belongings, went outside and just cried. People laughed at me for wearing a mask, people took distance not understanding why this young woman, with latex gloves on, cries so hard.

Normally I work well in emergency situations, but this time I felt caged. I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t name what I wanted. I thought that maybe going back to Slovakia isn’t so bad, now that I’ve been rejected.

To make it a little more clear for the ones who don’t know - probably one of the worst fears of us young Slovaks is being banned from travelling. The past is still too present of how our parents and grandparents have been locked down in one country for decades. We were raised thinking this cannot happen to us, ever again. We were encouraged to move, to value it, to enjoy it, to really use the freedom they never had. Slovakia might be politically unstable, but one thing we try to protect is the freedom of movement, of speech, of act. We cannot let ourselves go backwards in this one.

But this fight is of a different kind. It’s a war led by a virus. It doesn’t care about the politics, nor about the borders or passports. At the same time, the measurements most of the countries took are political for many. Not being able to get back to my homecountry is something I would have never ever imagined. Not being able to work out one little hole in the system, where I could let myself through. Being too alone to deal with this, with noone being able to help me.

The plane I was supposed be on departed and I was back again in my, now former, house. I called the Slovak embassy, where they suggested to sign up for repatriation. The word I have learnt just a few days ago. And yes, it’s as serious as it sounds. Slovak government has arranged transportation of Slovaks who wish to get back. (The estimated amount of Slovaks abroad is around 250 000, of barely 6mil. citizens). I was told to register and wait for a confirmation email. In this case, they wouldn’t confirm everyone. They would prioritise people based on their age, health state, and reason why they are abroad and why they need to return. I was approved within 2 hours. The bus would leave the next day, filled with other citizens, most likely also the infected ones. We would have to sign a document, where we declare that we will suffer (the actual English translation of the word they used) though obligatory quarantine in a place set up by government. There we would spend next 14 days, waiting to be tested and if proven negative, we would be allowed to go home to continue the self-isolation. These places are in different cities around the country, empty buildings or hotels, hosting 3-5 people in one room, banned from leaving the room at all. For people of risk group like me this would mean almost no chance to avoid getting infected too. At this point I had only two choices - to stay in Amsterdam, to be potentially homeless, for sure jobless, not knowing when and how this all ends, and therefore financially unprepared - or to go back to Slovakia and take the risk of getting very ill.

I was lucky enough to get in contact with one Slovak, who has been rejected to board that plane too. This was a pure coincidence of my mother calling their neighbours, who’s friends have a son studying in Amsterdam. We spoke on the phone and feared the transport as well as the obligatory quarantine. But there wasn’t any other way.

Almost by the time I made peace with getting ill, something has happened. Czech government has allowed Slovak citizens to transit through their country. Up until then there was a ban for all international citizens, including Slovaks (which again, something we would have never thought, after being Czechoslovakia for so long). We booked an early morning plane to Prague and waited. My boxes were packed, stored in the attic of my former house, my suitcase filled with my much needed medicine for upcoming 6-12 months.

I got to the airport at 4am, being let through check in at around 5am. First victory. Us Slovaks waited nervously at the gate, not knowing whether they let us through. When the plane started to board, I was stopped because my passport wasn’t Czech. At this point I was ready to go through dead bodies (Slovak saying). I showed them my declaration of just transiting through Czech republic. They probably didn’t have time to check the new updates and let me through. The plane was full in the back, however empty in front. Just a few people sat there, with approximate distance of 3m from each other. I believe these were either infected, or just waiting for the results. We were told not to move to empty seats in any case.

The plane landed. We got out and as the Schengen zone is closed now, had to be checked at security. (Again, unimaginable thing for us Slovaks in our former home country). Two of us were let through, me and the guy weren’t. We were handed a paper that said “No tourists, no internationals.” No matter what out history is, on paper we are internationals now. They took out passports, the declarations and we waited again. They let us go after 15 minutes, stating strictly how we need to exit the country as soon as possible. We had booked a car, but as Czechia is locked down, all car rentals were closed. We were lucky enough that the company we have chosen had one extra car to be moved to Slovakia. We got this car and drove away. Usually it’s about 3,5h drive from Prague to Bratislava. Roads were full of international trucks, who mostly drove both on left and right lane, blocking us from passing. Before we reached Czech-Slovak borders we got stuck in about 25km traffic - one lane, filled with truck drivers who have probably been there for hours already. Rudely we drove past them and reached the borders. Police stopped us. We told them we’re Slovaks and need to get back home. They escorted us towards Slovak border. Then Slovak police stopped us. We didn’t leave the car, but been tested for body temperature. We had to give out our personal information including our ID number, phone number and the address where we will stay next 14 days. We were told not to leave the house, not even to take the garbage out. The police joked about three boys being in one quarantine together and me alone and separate, and how more enjoyable it would be for them to have a woman around. I had to bite my tongue, but this was not a situation to fight sexism. They let us through.

Boys drove me to this apartment where my father already waited, wearing gloves and a face mask. We couldn’t hug or touch, but I could see how relieved he was to have me back. My family has prepared the apartment for me, filled with food and sweet little messages and pictures laying around. I put on jazz music and went for a cigarette on my balcony. Spring equinox, 21 degrees outside. My only touch with outside will be this balcony for upcoming 14 days, but I couldn’t feel happier and safer in that very moment. I made it.

I’m shaky writing this down. The trauma I have from past days will be hard to get over. My worst nightmares happened all in just two short days.

When being rejected from the plane (and not knowing that this would get even worse) someone who heard about my story called me “an adult woman that should be able to deal with this on her own”. That is a mind of someone privileged enough to say such thing. Someone that has never appeared in this situation where their rights and freedoms were taken away. And I pray for them to never ever experience this.

Hopefully this virus will change something in people’s mind, finally understanding the struggles many face daily - immigrants, people living in war zones, people being discriminated based on their nationality or ethnicity. When someone as privileged as me can end up like this - how about the one’s that have been limited way before this virus took over? I’m angry remembering all these people in Amsterdam laughing at me two weeks ago when I said the situation is serious. The ones laughing at me for wearing a mask, those organising corona parties or brunching in city centre every day instead of home-office working. The ones that said this is just a flu and it cannot hit us, white Western people. Because nothing can touch us, right? Oh, and please forbid if our economy gets affected. Our comfort and luxury.

I know much and many will be affected by this. Some will loose their jobs, become poor. Some will die. There’s no way to joke about this anymore. It’s too late. We have to develop new way of being, of discipline, we have to start working together, for ourselves and everyone else. To follow maybe strict rules given by governments, to simplify our way of living and consuming. The change is needed. I wish for the best to all of us, for strong health and for being able to overcome these days, weeks, possibly months. We’re in this together.

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canaryatlaw · 5 years

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it’s too late and I really need to go to bed because I am super tired. but today was pretty dang awesome, best day in a while. I had my alarm originally set for 11 but knew I didn’t really need to wake up till 12, so when it went off I didn’t want to get up and just reset it and woke up again at 12. had some breakfast and then did my makeup and got ready for the interview. ubered there and got there like 15 minutes early, good timing, so I spent a few minutes in the bathroom making sure I was good to go then went in. I knew my way around of course so I went straight for the back, their receptionist knew me of course so that was good. Waited about 15 minutes or so then got called back. I knew all 3 of the people doing the interview of course, so that was nice. Overall I think it went really well, I was pleased with my answers to the questions and felt like I handled them all pretty well. I got a bit more into the child welfare stuff than I expected mainly because they asked about it so I kind of explained my experience there in fairly good detail, which is of course relevant now that they merged with the other nonprofit doing family defense. I kept my mouth shut about any differences in mission that I might have with them, at this point they’re not doing direct representation for parents in abuse/neglect cases so I feel better about that, and they are doing a lot of reform based stuff so that is good. Their position isn’t totally invalid for sure, I definitely agree that the child welfare system over-polices those in poverty and often times removing children from a home is not the best solution when instituting other policies could just solve the problem and save the children a lot of trauma, and of course that extends to domestic violence cases- they tend to be complicated of course and I’d never advocate leaving a child in a home where they are being physically abused, but there are certainly DV situations where removing the children is definitely not the best thing to do. So I felt like I expressed all of that in a good manner and was sure to make connections to the DV side of things as well, so that was good. I feel really good about it, and I’m really just praying this works out because it would be so so good. I did find out that they have a position open because my old school advisor who moved there a few years ago recently left and they moved one of the staff attorneys into her position, so now they have a staff attorney opening. It’s definitely good that they’re not just interviewing for her job, because then I would’ve felt massively underqualified and definitely not going to get it. They said it’d probably be at least a week as they have to wait for someone to come back from vacation to make decisions, so yeah, we’ll see how that goes. I ubered home from there and got changed, prepping everything to head to the concert (I realized I didn’t actually mention this, but this concert was for the KPop group Monsta X). I did get the suit jacket from amazon that we were thinking about using but it ended up not fitting at all (like I couldn’t button any of it) because I don’t know anything about mens sizes and this was the only size they had available on prime so there wasn’t anything else I could do. it’s just as well though because I knew I would’ve been super overheating the whole time and definitely didn’t want that, and Jess didn’t end up using her outfit either so we both wore our matching shirts. Once I was good to go I walked to her place and we headed towards the venue. It’s out by the airport, so a bit of a drive, and we stopped at mcdonalds for nuggets on the way since we knew we wouldn’t get any other food for the rest of the night. Got to the venue and parked in the nearby mall parking garage because the theatre had theirs closed off for some reason, then headed in to pick up our VIP tickets. since we had the like ultimate VIP tickets we couldn’t get them electronically, we had to get them at the box office with photo ID and the card used to buy them because they didn’t want anybody selling the tickets. so we got all of that and then there wasn’t really any point in hanging around, so we went back over to the mall and looked around for a bit, and got some bubble tea because why not lol. After we did that we walked back over to the theatre and just hung out for a bit before we were allowed to go in like half an hour earlier than everyone else which was nice. We did a bathroom run then checked out our seats, in the front row, and sooooooooooooo close to the stage, holy crap, it was nuts. People started filling in and such, when it got close to the time everyone in the pit area where we were stood up and like, a bunch of people like, got away from their seats and were like, standing behind us between us and our chairs and like blocking the aisle which was not good, but the security made them all go back to their chairs because that was obviously a hazard. Then there was a bit of a deal about if my chair was supposed to be there, because it was really close to the security seat as my chair was on the end right next to them, so they like, called people in to look at it and I was fully prepared to fight them and be like I’m not moving, I paid for this ticket and I’m going to be here and I will sue you all if you try to make me move, but thankfully they just kinda shrugged it off and said whatever, so that was a crisis avoided. Pretty soon the concert started, and I won’t get too into details because it’s already almost 3 am and if I get into it I’ll write way too much, but it was super awesome and many we were so ridiculously close to them, it was amazing and I got such good videos of everyone and it was just so, so good. an awesome night for sure. Once it was over we had to wait for the “high touch” special thing we got as a VIP which is basically just a row of high fives, so we had to wait for all of that to get sorted out. It went by super quickly, but it was good and then we got to see their “send off” which was basically just them walking by and high fiving everyone along the way, but it was cool. Once that was all done we headed home, Jess dropped me by my apartment since construction is still going on and blocking the most direct route, I got home and pretty much just put my stuff down and showered and got ready for bed and now I am here and like I said it’s almost 3 am and I am dead tired, so I definitely need to go to sleep now. I’ll see if I can post some videos tomorrow so you guys can see a bit of what it was like, but for now I sleep. Goodnight friends. Hope you had a great day as well.

#daily journal #August 2019 #Jess tag #Rachel's kpop adventures

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scottmaclaren · 6 years

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Surviving Via Rail: How to Make It Across Canada

In celebration of Canada 150, Via Rail did a really special promotion last year. If you were under the age of 26, and actually managed to buy the Canada 150 youth ticket, you could get unlimited travel for the entire month of July 2017 for $150. Demand for these tickets were so high that Via’s servers crashed and their phone lines were under such high call volume, the phone wouldn’t even ring. But if you were like me and couldn’t let such a deal go by without a fight, and had to stay up late to finish project work for your undergrad anyway, you had a chance of scoring a pass.

Why you should consider my advice?

With my rail pass, I travelled from Halifax, Nova Scotia, to Montreal, Québec, to Toronto, Ontario, to Edmonton, Alberta, and then to Vancouver, British Columbia. It was a long journey, but I think I’ve experienced everything you could with an economy class ticket.

As someone who has only travelled by car and plane, long distance rail travel had some changes that I wasn’t prepared for, so hopefully when you travel Canada by rail, you won’t be caught off guard like I was.

Luggage:

You can bring so much luggage with you if you want. I, as a youth passenger, could bring 2 50lbs checked bags with me, and a carry on. Now if you check your bag, you don’t get access to it during the entire train ride, no matter how long your ride is, so pack accordingly. The one part of checking my suitcase that made me nervous is unlike on a plane where your luggage is barcoded and tracked(hopefully) through its journey, the only thing that goes on your bag from Via is a tag that says your bags final destination, like MONTREAL, or TORONTO. This is all they put on your bag so I advice putting your own name tag on your luggage with contact information in case something goes missing.

What I learned was that in every passenger car though, they have extra large bins at near the front of the train car where you can put oversized bags into. Some people put their suitcases there so they were always on hand, but space there is limited at first come, first serve. It did happen where someone was forced to check a bag because they didn’t have enough room in the compartment.

If you’ve just travelled by air, you know it can be a fight sometimes for overhead bin space. Say goodbye to that worry on the train. You get so much over headroom space and leg room, you won’t struggle to fit anything short of a 30 inch suitcase.

Security

The usual airport slog. Sir, please remove your belt. Madam, you need to take off your shoes. This is possibly my least favourite part of airline travel.

Good news. Trains have no security checkpoints. In fact, they have zero security outside of someone checking your ticket once you’re already boarded the train. No bags are X-rayed, no sniffer dogs, no officers at the station, unless perhaps they’re going on vacation on the same train as you. I kept waiting for some kind of an ID check, but it never came. It was honestly refreshing living in world with so much security theatre.

Food

This will not apply if you’re in sleeper class / business class and have access to the full dinning car, but if you’re in any class that doesn’t have meal service included, this will be of use to you. if you want to order from their á la carte food menu, they have dinner services at 2 different times and you can choose which seating you want to eat at. They had a reasonable selection of burgers, chicken dishes, and vegetarian chill. You pre-purchase your meal a few hours ahead and the food was actually way better than I expected. The menu didn’t change while I was on the train so don’t expect a new menu every day. They take cash, or they take credit cards (they take a carbon copy rubbing, and I got a great kick out of that). Via serves snacks, beverages and light sandwiches all day for a really reasonable price. They have a cold and hot water dispenser and that was free to use for all passengers. It frequently was out of water but you can just pour more in through the top hatch. Thanks Via attendants that told me how that worked. They also have little packets of jam, peanut butter, and plastic forks, spoons and knifes.

So a small menu that doesn’t change, but remember how I said no security? You can bring literally anything you want on the train short of alcohol and weapons. The most convenient part of leaving Halifax was it got me thinking about food, and the train station is right next store to Superstore. Once I had my bag checked in and realized the ‘security’ of the station was a small door leading to the train yard, I walked over the store and stocked up on everything I could think of that didn’t need to be refrigerated. At the time, I didn’t know about the hot water dispenser and that opens up a new class of food. I recommend things like:

trail mix

granola bars

things like Cliff bars

bagels

bananas ( I brought some blueberries but made sure to eat them in a few days)

jerky meats

pop tarts

instant ramen, instant oatmeal (get the one in bowls)

tea bags / instant coffee ( you can buy tea / coffee for a few dollars if you want)

water, juices, drink powder, UHT milk

Train Stops

Because freight always gets priority on the rail lines, you’ll probably experience stopping for no reason, and then waiting for an undetermined length of time until the cargo train goes past. This means the ‘schedule’ you have, is a suggestion at best. For example, my scheduled departure vs the actual departure was a few hours apart. You must keep checking their website or calling Via before you leave to board your train or you could be stuck waiting at the station for hours.

The longer the train is delayed, the less time you’ll get at each city stop. Sometimes stops might happen in the middle of the night even though the stop was scheduled for 2pm because the train can get really, really delayed. if your stop isn’t one of the major city stops, you need to make sure you’re on top of where you are along the line. If they’re running behind, the train might only stop for 15 minutes and you will need to make sure to be off that train or else you’re stuck on the train while your luggage will no longer be on the train.

I highly recommend getting off the train every time you can. It was great to get a quick taste of all the cities you get to roll past, and it is an excellent opportunity to go get some fresh food or to stock up on some more snacks.

What else to bring

I wish that someone had told me how cold it gets on the train. They air condition the cars quite heavily and was freezing at night. If I took another trip, I would have packed a small blanket but luckily for my trip, my jacket was cozy enough.

I think my most important advice is to chat with people in the train. They’re going to be there with you for a while so it’s a great way to make friends. On one leg of my trip, we had a crash course of how to play Dungeons and Dragons. It was such a blast.

Happy travels!

#train #trains #via rail #travel

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sphericaladventures · 7 years

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Almost any destination has areas of interest, and you want to find the best opportunities for your idea of fun and adventure. I have the inside track on the west coast town of Rincon, Puerto Rico, for hikers, water sports, dining, and nature enthusiasts. If you are like me, sometimes you prefer to visit places off the beaten path and out of peak tourist season. This trip itinerary was put together for the end of November.

The rates to fly to Puerto Rico are extremely reasonable this time of year. The San Juan airport is the main international airport on the island, it is small and easy to navigate, and a short walk to get to the car rental area. Take a carry-on and you will breeze right through your flight schedule.

There are typical car rental rates in November, but a bigger selection of newer cars to choose from with very low miles. My car had 128 miles on it and still had the plastic on the seatbelt connections and the new car smell. I had 2 hours and 15 minutes to get to the surfing beach town of Rincon, Puerto Rico. I could have flown into the closer Aguadilla Airport, but San Juan had less expensive options and I wanted to explore anyway.

The Mental Adjustment

Rooftop rental with seating, hammock, and pool

It’s my belief that traveling to my destination is part of the vacation. Snacks and drinks in the airport, reading a book I’ve been dying to crack open during a layover, a movie on the plane ride, and hopefully a window seat for take-off and landing, are part of the experience. It helps if you revert to child-like wonder from the moment you leave work and start packing. A perk of my trip is a membership to Dreamtrips travel club and having what is called “Rovia bucks” gained from sharing the club with friends who love to travel as well as I do. This club account paid for my airline ticket and sent me through expedited security lines. I didn’t start spending money until I picked up my rental car. I could have covered my accommodations by searching for a pre-packaged vacation or an available hideaway in the area but opted for a private rental option with friends who live in Puerto Rico instead.

There are many places to see between San Juan and Rincon driving along the west coast of Puerto Rico and I had researched a few ideas ahead of time. Waking in a comfortable bed on the first day in my Rincon rental, I felt the ceiling fan and open windows blow the humid 82-degree air over my body and was immediately psyched for morning coffee on the rooftop. I left the rain and chilly air of Charlotte, North Carolina, far behind to stay with people who spend six months of the year in Puerto Rico’s Rincon area who were going to be really helpful finding my kind of vacation entertainment. I walked upstairs to find myself in a tropical paradise of plants, outdoor cushioned furniture, a hammock, and a small pool. The sky was blue and I could see the ocean in the distance. I was already taking pictures to send home.

The old church sign at my Rincon rental

The rental I was staying in used to be an old church. It was an open floorplan, light wood, tile floors, and brightly colored walls with beach themed decoration; totally my idea of an oceanside cottage. Three bedrooms and two baths with one outdoor shower made it perfect to share as everyone had their own privacy. Open windows allowed us to be serenaded by tree frogs at night and awakened by crowing roosters in the morning.

Caribbean Beaches

We all eased into the first day with a trip to local Rincon beaches. Getting from point A to point B means navigating roads that are only a lane and half wide with periodic hairpin blind turns. Take the extra car rental insurance and bravely explore. Eventually, you will be driving like the locals, in the middle of the road, relying on reflexes, and blowing through red lights late at night. You will note the cars parked outside their residences are marked by a series of fender benders with age.

Local Rincon Beaches

Sandy Beach, like many beaches, is lined with palm trees on one side and turquoise ocean water on the other. Since the area is known for surfing, many of the beaches are rocky and it’s hard to walk into the water without tripping, but Sandy Beach is “swimming friendly” where you can walk easily in and out of the water, snorkel and float, then relax on a beach chair. A convenient boutique size hotel and bar called Tamboo is on the beach when you feel like getting some food and refreshment. Stay the day or hop over to Steps Beach – named for the mysterious cement stoop – sitting in the water near the shore. This beach is a little rocky, but good for snorkeling since there are places for fish to play hide and seek.

Dome Beach in Rincon

Dome beach was once an active military installation that officially shuttered its doors in 2012. Within the dome was a boiling nuclear superheater run by general electric from 1965-68. There is now a museum of atomic science, a local surfing beach with trails, rocky outcrops and a view of the mysterious looking dome over the tropical trees and vegetation. It is now a premier surfing beach for skilled locals and tourists.

Rincon Lighthouse

Next to Dome Beach is the Rincon Lighthouse sitting atop a small hill. You may find a stand for handmade jewelry outside, a grassy courtyard is often used for weddings for its picturesque views of beaches from above, and there is a convenient restroom facility.

Beach Activities and Equipment Rental

Rincon Paddle Boards

If you like watersports, locate Rincon Paddleboard Rentals owned and operated by Damiano and Chicako who are Rincon locals. Find them on the main website or on Facebook and learn about how they can teach you to paddleboard, surf, kayak, and snorkel as well as take you on tours. They have all the necessary equipment for each activity

“Big Red” Paddle Board, Rincon Paddle Board Rental

available to rent. Tell them Don Klos sent you for a surprise on your visit. They are located on the beach and can take you out as soon as you are ready. Keep in mind that Puerto Rico has 501km or 311 miles of coastline and this is just the western section.

Dining and Accommodations

Playa Maria Beach access is next to the Calypso Café which has a bar with live music in the evenings. There are a couple of beach shops that provide great reasons to get out of the sun for a bit, soothe your skin, and hydrate.

The Lazy Parrot Mini Resort, Rincon, PR

The Lazy Parrot Mini Resort in Rincon has an island atmosphere suitable for events and weddings. It has hotel rooms and suites, a gift shop, restaurant, and poolside bar in the courtyard. Stay there to take complete advantage of the amenities or just visit the bar and take in a game or two over a local Medalla beer.

Grab an authentic English style breakfast or tea at the English Rose Bed and Breakfast located up a winding road surrounded by lush foliage, ending on a hilltop with breathtaking views for miles. Have a relaxing brunch or reserve a guesthouse overlooking the pool and stay a while.

Aloha Surf Curbside bar and restaurant

The Aloha Surf is an outdoor food stand and bar right in town beside other local restaurants. The owner, Crystal, may be your chef, creating local favorites like fresh seafood, steak, chicken, and pork pinchos which are pieces of meat pierced with a stick like a kabob. Empanadillas are another Spanish dish of pastries filled with the same meats as the pinchos either chopped or ground. These finger foods are very popular fare found along every roadside throughout the island, but there are always those that come highly recommended over others.

Located right on the beach, La Copa Llena at the Black Eagle is the setting for spectacular sunsets, unique menu items and specials like Poke (a yellow fin tuna dish), tostones (mashed green plantains), butter-poached mackerel, and ribs that melt in your mouth.

Sunset at Hotel Villa Cofresi

The Hotel Villa Cofresi is a beach resort. Upon entering you will see their gift shop, pass by an open-air game room with billiard tables on the right and a pool on the left, and then find a seat at the bar overlooking the pelicans and boats on the ocean. Their signature drink, The Pirate Special, is several types of rum mixed with coconut milk, sprinkled with cinnamon, and served inside a freshly opened coconut shell. The entire drink does not fit in the coconut so it comes with an overflow cup. It is the perfect drink at the end of a beach day.

Finding fresh seafood in Rincon is not hard to do, but if you are looking for an exceptional recipe and presentation, you need to visit Saltaire and the Casa Verde Hotel. The chef, Christopher, studied the culinary arts while living in New York City where he refined his skills in fine dining and opened a restaurant in Puerto Rico. He showcases the variety of fresh catches, such as red snapper, along with lamb chops, stuffed mushrooms, fresh gnocchi, and even coconut bread pudding. The outdoor bar on the ground floor is decorated with little white lights and potted plants for ambiance and there is plenty of room to dance in the evening.

Saltaire is only open during Puerto Rico’s winter season – November through April -and we were lucky not to miss them! Contact them at [email protected] to ask about specials and tell them Don Klos sent you!

Day Trips from Rincon

My separate article on Click link〉〉Day Trips from Rincon features details of visiting the following locations by car:

La Parguera about an hour south of Rincon to Gina @ Johnny’s Boat Rentals.

About a half hour north of Rincon to Jobo’s Beach in Isabella.

The salt flats in Playa Sucia – La Playuela – in Cabo Rojo a little over an hour south of Rincon and where Los Morillos Lighthouse is also located.

Waterfalls at Gozalandia Falls in San Sebastian about 45 minutes north of Rincon.

Crash Boat Beach in Aguadilla, a half hour north of Rincon.

The best part of my trip: La Cueva del Indio with caves and isolated beaches an hour and a half north of Rincon in the town of Arecibo.

A third article titled Click link〉〉 La Cueva del Indio, Arecibo is dedicated to this location with many photos of the site and is certainly worth reading!

The end of this visit was filled with memories of things that can’t be seen or experienced elsewhere. Puerto Rico is loaded with other activities, beaches, restaurants, shopping, and historical sites. That will be the subject of another trip.

I would not have necessarily thought of taking a trip just after Thanksgiving, but Dreamtrips Rovia bucks eventually expire after a year and I wanted to take full advantage of my travel dollars. It’s hard to imagine needing the incentive to travel, but many of us put off plans more than we act on them. I joined the travel club to be sure I would see new places at least once a year if not several times each year. For more information, email me at [email protected].

Drink like a local!

[contact-form] Rincon, Puerto Rico, and Surrounding Treasures Almost any destination has areas of interest, and you want to find the best opportunities for your idea of fun and adventure.

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