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luvspence · 3 years

Text

contact names

spencer reid x reader

synopsis: a love story told through contact names

word count: 1.5k

———

“hi dr. reid, or u-um spencer? is that all right? can i call you by your first name? i was wondering if i could get your number, so we could have a line of communication and all”

you stood in front of him, smiling brightly. this was your first jet ride of your first case. you believed first impressions were important, and a little more important when that first impression was with him

you’d gone to the same college as him, given you went around 12 years after he did, and his name was always brought up. when you were a criminal justice major and cal tech, spencer reid was a name that was hard to not know. you studied his analysis, you read his doctoral papers, and you admired him from a far. just an alumni, smart one, cute one at that, but just an alumni, someone to learn from

okay so maybe you had a crush on him, but of course you didn’t that was ridiculously, you’d never even met the man

but there you were, somehow you fought your way through school, the academy, and the baus hiring process, and you went from admiring learner, to colleague

he was beautifully perched on the edge of the jet seat, staring down at the chess set, playing against himself

“oh hello, and spencer is quite fine. just appreciative to be called anything other than morgan’s chosen nick name of ‘pretty boy’. i mean i guess it is a compliment? well it feels degrading in a sense, i digress,,”

he chuckled awkwardly

when he was nervous, he rambled, and you made him nervous

he and garcia had thoroughly researched you before you had joined

you were top of your class at cal-tech, top of your class at the academy, your published work was astonishing for someone your age, you had numerous letters of recommendation from highly regarded professors

you were nothing short of excellent, and nothing short of beautiful

long hair with bangs that perfectly framed your face, dimples on both of your cheeks, a smile that could light up any room you walked into

so needless to say, spencer already had a crush on you before you walked through the bau doors

“ and oh i’m regarding that phone number, let me...”

he shuffled through his satchel, files, books, tea bags and granola bar wrapper being pushed a side in search of his business card

“shoot, i can’t find it, here”

he pulled his phone out

“why don’t your enter your number, and i’ll text you so that you can save the contact as well?”

“oh perfect!”

you grabbed his phone typing in your number, and handing it back

“t-thank you!”

you turned to walk away

“oh wait! could you spell your last name for me? i wouldn’t want to get it wrong”

you spelled it out, he typed in the letters into his phone

now you were officially in his phone as plainly

“y/n l/n”

—

you guys quickly went from colleagues to friends

ever since that first text that spencer sent to share his number, you two were inseparable

carpooled to work and back

sat next to each other on the jet

office spaces next to each other

coffee “dates”

hotel slumber parties during cases

friday night game night traditions

endless conversations

book recommendations

and of course

a blinding amount of romantic tension

a couple months into you working at the bau you were sitting on spencer’s desk, him reclined in his chair

“i’m telling you! i’m amazing at gin rummy”

“mhm okay”

you hit him playfully with a file

“mhm? what is that supposed to mean? do you doubt my skills?”

“no not at all, i just know i’d crush you”

you raised an eyebrow

“okay dr reid? you wanna go?”

he pulled a deck of cards out of his drawer

“i’ll deal”

he said, shuffling the cards

7 rounds later, you had beat him by 27 points

“HA!”

he looked down in defeat

“HA HA HA!!!!”

“i let you win”

“UNTRUE UNTRUE! you knocked and were so confident that you had won, but guess what? I HAD GIN” you laughed un controllably while spenxer rolled his eyes

“they don’t call me y/n “gin rummy god” l/n for nothing!”

he perched his face in his hands, staring up at your giggly face that still remained seated on his desk

“who calls you that”

“everyone! and now you have to!”

he laughed, pulled out his phone went to his contacts

he typed in

“y/n “pretty okay at gin rummy” l/n”

he showed you the screen

“happy?”

you squinted in to read it

“very”

———-

it didn’t take very much longer until you and spencer were dating

it happened one day on the jet, you were flying home and while sitting next to spencer instinctually laid your head on his shoulder

that wasn’t too abnormal, but spencer bent his neck down to kiss you softly on the forehead

you looked at him

he looked at you

finally an action that couldn’t be written off as platonic

with scared eyes he looked at you, looking like he had just committed a grave crime

as he had forgotten that you two were not dating, you had forgotten that the entire team was also on that jet

so you grabbed his face and kissed him, kissed him long, gently wrapping your arms around his neck, until you heard an “ahem” from derek

“finally”

he laughed, you and spencer just stared at each other an also burst into laughter, and from then on, you were his girl, his love, his object of adoration, his lady

—-

3 months into your relationship, spencer had gotten a concussion

he was okay, just unable to fly

you were about to board the jet, face buried in spencers shoulder

“i don’t have to go spencer”

“yes, yes you do”

“i don’t want to leave you”

“y/n i will survive, and it’s not like i’m gonna be alone in the office, i’ll be consulting virtually through garcia”

you pressed a kiss to his lips

“okay, i’ll miss you”

“miss you too”

you let go of his hand and jogged up to emily who was boarding the plane

“you two are vile” she said laughing

“not funny!”

the case was tough, even tougher with spencer not around

though he and garcia made quite the duo

“hey spencer could you call y/n for me? i’m on this line with derek”

“yeah of course”

he pressed your contact on his favorite list

your name saved as “m’lady”

garcia noticed immediately

“m’lady?! M’LADY??? if you two aren’t the cutest pair of 18th century literature nerds i don’t know what is”

he giggled, you picked up the phone

“spence?”

garcia started shouting

“Y/N YOU SUcK! YOU AND YOUR PERFECT ADORABLE RELATIONSHIP WITH CUTE LITTLE CONTACT NAMES! HAVE SOME MERCY FOR THE SINGLE PEOPLE HUH?”

you started to laugh

“garcia do you have that list of names i asked for?”

——-

4 years, 1 built in library, and 3 cats later

spencer knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you

it was a warm saturday, and you and spencer went to the museum of natural sciences

you were standing in front of the aquatic birds exhibit

you were reading the swan description

“swan, largest waterfowl species of the subfamily anserinae, family anatidae. most swans are classified in the genus cygnus. swans are gracefully long-necked, heavy-bodied, big-footed birds that glide majestically when swimming and fly with slow wingbeats and with necks outstretched. swans mate for life, and can actually die from heart break if their partner dies, interesting”

“yeah, swans are usually a symbol of love and marriage”

“how sweet, such romantic birds”

spencer took your hand

“i’m gonna love you forever, just like these swans”

he kissed your forehead

“forever and ever spence?”

he got down on one knee

“forever and ever”

you wanted to wait until the perfect moment to tell the team, refraining from wearing your ring until you two could figure it out, but by an unfortunate accident, they secret was out

“hey y/n, i didn’t get a chance to save your number earlier, would you mind?”

an officer at the local precinct was asking you, as to have a more direct way of contact

the entire team was sitting around a table as you typed your number into the officers phone

“oh and y/n i’m sorry how do you spell your last name”

“r-e-i-d, reid”

you froze

in most of your circles you already started going by spencer’s last name, this detail slipped your mind

derek was the first to say something

“WHAT”

then emily

“YOU TWO?”

you and spencer looked at each other

“okay, we’re in engaged”

the entire team started hugging and cheering, the rest of the precinct joining in

“so when were you planning to tell us?” hotch asked with a raised eyebrow

you laughed

“would you believe me if i said that contact name incident was planned?”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fluffy #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x y/n #cm #mgg #gubler #matthew gray #matthew gray gubler #mgg fluff #mgg fic #spencer reid fic

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sgtbradfords · 3 years

Note

Chenford + “Hey, take a breath. Here, hold my hand.”

Thanks for the prompt anon! I hope you’re ok with an AU because that’s what my muse produced. Enjoy and Happy Friday!

Tim Bradford sat on a tattered barstool in front of a bar, taking small sips of the amber liquor that occupied the glass in his right hand. He couldn’t believe her. No, scratch that. He could believe her, but chose to ignore that small fact.

“What do you want?” He grumbled, his focus staying on the rows of multicolored bottles behind the bar.

“Now Tim, is that anyway to treat a friend?” She smiled, sitting down at the counter next to him.

Tim grunted, holding the glass against his lips. “I’m not your friend.”

“Is that anyway to treat your wife then?”

He roughly sat the drinking glass down onto the mahogany wood, turning his body towards her. “We’re not married.”

“Maybe not legally, but you have to admit that trip to Barbados was fun.” She gleamed.

“Fun? We almost became shark bait.”

“Keyword being almost Tim.”

Tim sighed. “Why are you here Lucy?”

Lucy pouted. “Can I not have a drink with a friend?”

“We’re not fr-“

“We’re friends Tim. Whether you like it or not.”

Tim turned his head. “Give me one reason as to why shouldn’t I arrest you right now?”

Lucy bit her lip, placing her right hand onto his left arm. “Because that’s not part of our deal and you know it.”

Tim shook his head, turning his focus back to the rows and shelves of bottles behind the bar. “What have you heard?”

“Not here.” She smiled, shaking her head. “What’d you say we get out of here?”

Tim tossed back the rest of the whiskey, sitting the empty glass on the counter as he stood.

Twenty minutes later, Lucy was leading Tim through a penthouse apartment.

“I’m not even going to ask how you’re affording this.” He sighed, kicking his shoes off by the door.

Lucy shrugged. “I’m one of the best thieves in the business Tim.”

“Used to be.” He told her as he made his way to the kitchen. “You used to be one of the best thieves Lucy.”

Lucy followed his retreating form. “Semantics.” She told him, offhandedly waving as she leaned against the wall separating the two rooms.

Tim grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, twisting the cap off before taking a long drag of the cold liquid.

“Are you going to tell me the plan Chen? Or are you just going to stare at me?”

Lucy felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment at being caught before she jumped, moving to sit up onto the marble countertop. “How do you feel about Dexter?”

Tim set the plastic bottle down on the other side of the countertop, staring at his partner before he leaned forward against the chilled marble.

“The TV show?”

“No,” she told him, rolling her eyes. “Maine.”

“Can’t say that I have visited there recently. What have you heard?”

“Word is that the artifacts that were stolen from a museum in Madrid last week, are about to be sold, amongst other things.”

Tim ran a hand down his face. “Ok, stolen artifacts from Spain. What are they doing in the States?”

Lucy shrugged. “Not sure yet but, I do know that there are some major players involved. Cole Midas, Nick Armstrong, Rosalind Dyer.”

“Fuck.” He cursed, propping his hands on the countertop. “Have you notified Grey?”

She shook her head. “He vaguely knows the details, but he also said not to tell him if we were fixing to do something illegal.”

Tim chuckled, lifting off his top half off the counter as he moved to the living room, stopping in front of the panoramic windows that overlooked the city below.

The view from the top of the high rise was breathtaking. Views of the Pacific Ocean and vast rolling hills could be seen off in the distance, other skyscrapers and smaller occupied buildings on every corner. The glow of headlights and taillights lighting up the darker corners of the City of Angels. The sound of sirens could be heard as they echoed down the streets and up the sides of the buildings around them.

“You’re thinking too loud.” She softly spoke from behind him.

“We are not going to have a repeat of last time Luce.” He whispered into the night.

“Hey, what happened last time-“ Lucy told him as she took a step forward, gently placing her hand on his shoulder, the touch causing Tim to release a sigh.

“Was my fault.” He finished for her. “You almost- I watched you die Lucy.”

“That was not your fault Tim Bradford, and you know it. What he did- I’m alive because of you.”

“I can’t-“ He hesitated, the words catching in his throat as he looked down at the world moving around them. “I can’t lose you again.”

Lucy could feel her heart break at the emotion in his uttered confession.

“Here,” She told him as she removed her hand from his shoulder. “Take my hand.”

Tim turned slowly, making no move to reach for her hand, causing Lucy to take matters into her own hands, reaching for his. She grasped his hand in hers, his calloused skin a stark contrast to the softness of hers.

“I’m alive Tim.” She sighed as she gently squeezed his hand with hers. “And you know that doing the job that we do, we have to take risks. You knew this when you swore an oath and put on that badge, long before you were tasked with capturing me.”

He shook his head. “These risks, are they worth it?”

Lucy looked up. “You know it is, if it means that I am not locked up in a federal prison or extradited to another country, it’s always worth it.”

Tim’s other hand moved on its own accord, his calloused fingers brushing against her skin as he pushed the strands of hair that had fallen back behind her ear.

“You know I won’t let that happen.”

She smiled at the truth in his words. She knew he wouldn’t. “I know. Now Grey on the other hand…”

“I’ll handle Wade.”

Lucy couldn’t hold back the snicker, letting go of his hand as she stepped back. “I’m sure he’ll love that.”

“Have you talked to the team?” Tim asked, walking away from the window, moving to sit down on the couch.

“Nyla is picking us up in the morning, the rest are on their way to the safehouse.”

Tim sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned his head onto the back of the cushion, time passing as Lucy sat adjacent to the couch in the navy armchair.

“Lucy?” Tim’s gravely spoke after letting his body conform to the plush couch cushion.

“Yeah?”

“This isn’t your penthouse, is it.” He stated, already knowing the answer as he continued to keep his eyes closed.

Lucy chuckled, the only answer he needed as he opened his eyes, his body now tense as he stood up from his relaxed state.

“We’ve talked about this Chen.” He said exasperatedly, running a tired hand down his face as he turned towards her. “You can’t just find something you like and claim it as your own.”

“You going to arrest me?”

Tim cut his eyes at her, just as the faint ding of the elevator arriving to the floor, in the hall sounded.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Lucy looked at Tim panicked. “They weren’t supposed to return until this weekend.”

‘’Yeah well, our lives are just full of surprises.” He told her as he ran across the room, slipping his shoes back onto his feet. “Don’t just there on your ass Lucy!”

She stood quickly, spotting a clear box built into the outside wall that was lit up by the lights of the city below. “Get outside.” She whispered loudly as she pulled the balcony door open, stepping onto the concrete platform, rushing over to the wall.

Tim ran after her, jerking the small glass door open as he pulled the fire ladder out, heaving it over the railing as the ladder extended into the night, landing two balconies below.

“We better hope no one’s at home or we’re going to have a hard time explaining this one.” He told her as he tossed a leg over onto the metal rung, followed by the other leg.

“Later Bradford. Now move!” She chastised as she followed. “And don’t you dare look up!”

“It’s dark out Chen, not a whole lot to be seen!” He said as he focused on moving down to the next step below. “Why are you wearing a skirt anyways? You never wear skirts.”

“Are you looking up?” She lowly asked. “Don’t look!”

Tim rolled his eyes. “It’s not anything I’ve not seen before Luce.”

His footing quickly found solid concrete as he planted them on the balcony, keeping both hands on the sides of the ladder, attempting to hold it steady.

“Different circumstances Tim.” She told him as the soles of her shoes touched the concrete. Lucy turned, opening the apartments sliding door.

“Why is it not locked?” He asked.

“We’re almost six hundred feet off the ground, why would you lock your door?”

He sighed as they walked through the seemingly vacant apartment. “Because someone-“

“It’s time turn your training off Tim, join the dark side.”

Tim stopped, pulling open the front door, ushering her through as he locked the door behind them, pulling it close.

“The last time you said that we were thrown out of a plane at twenty thousand feet by those Cubans. Mind you, with a half-assed parachute.”

Lucy pressed the button on the wall for the elevator, the arrow above showing the cart slowly coming down.

“You got us down.”

Tim turned, staring her down. “When do we have to be at the airfield?”

“0700. Harper said something about a bumpy ride so I hope you pack your Dramamine.”

“As long it’s not that damn Stratotanker again, I’ll be fine.” He grumbled as the elevator hit the ground floor, the doors opening.

“I’ll see you in the morning at the airfield, I’ve got a few things that I need to wrap up here.” Lucy told him as they walked across the lobby. “And you might want to call Wesley, have him wipe the security tapes.”

Tim shook his head. “No more breaking into houses.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” she smirked.

“You better not be late.”

Lucy turned, walking into the night but not before getting in the last word. “And have you condition my ass again? Never.”

Twelve hours later, Tim found himself 33,000 feet off the ground, his body strapped into the uncomfortable harness of a C-130.

“You good?” Lucy asked as she walked back from the cockpit, sitting down next to Tim as she began strapping herself back in to the seat.

“For the third time Lucy, I’m fine.” He sighed, finding the familiar rocking motion of the military aircraft more comforting than sickening.

“Nyla said we’re about twenty minutes from landing. I tried getting the pilot, his name is James by the way, to tell me how Nyla was able to convince him to smuggle us on, but he wouldn’t budge.” Lucy told him as the corners of Tim’s lips threatened to turn. “I’m pretty sure their sleeping together.”

Soon the wheels of the aircraft touched the ground once again, landing at a military base in Vermont before they picked up the government issued vehicle that was left for them, making the six-hour drive to Maine.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Nyla asked from her seat in the back of the sedan as they made their way northeast on the interstate.

Tim scoffed. “I know how to punch in the address into the GPS Harper. Or would you rather stop and ask for directions every hour?”

Lucy rested her head on the windshield of the passenger door, smiling as the backseat driver chose to keep her critiques to herself for the remainder of the ride.

The ample afternoon sunshine, quickly turned into dusk as Tim steered the vehicle onto a flat gravel road, the rocks under the tires paving the way before coming to a stop in front of an elegant two-story lake house.

“How are you two affording this?” Nyla asked as she stepped out of the car, her boots crunching the rocks under her feet. “On second thought, I don’t want to know.”

“Plausible deniability?”

“Yep.” She told them as she grabbed her duffle from the open trunk. “Anyone else here yet?”

“Angela and Wesley, so yell before you enter.”

Nyla sighed, grumbling about newlyweds under her breath as she walked towards the house.

Tim pulled out another duffle, handing it over to Lucy before grabbing her luggage, extending the handle before grabbing his own, sitting it on top of hers.

“What the fuck do you have in here Lucy?” He asked as he pulled the suitcase across the gravel. “Your picks don’t take up that much space.”

“Stuff.”

Tim rolled his eyes as the bag hit the walkway lined with pavers walking the brick that led to the entrance as he heaved the bags up the stoop and into the house.

“Lucy.” Angela greeted with arms open wide as her and Tim stepped into the house. “May I just say, you are rocking this new look.”

Lucy dropped her bag, stepping into the embrace as she wrapped her right hand around Angela’s back for a few seconds before pulling back out of the hug.

Angela stepped back, moving in front of Tim. “Did you forget to shave?”

Tim exasperatedly sighed, running a hand along the stubble. “It’s not that bad Angela.”

“You sure about that?” She told him earnestly before turning away, leading them out of the foyer and towards the quaint living room. “So, what highly illegal task do we need to accomplish this time for a federal agency that shall not be named.”

Lucy and Tim shared a glance. “We’re not-“

“Please.” Wesley told them as he entered the room from the kitchen. “I done my research on the two of you, well your cover identities, when you first approached us about Istanbul. If it’s on the internet, I can find it, just sometimes in less than legal ways.”

“You know that’s a federal crime, right?”

“Legal or not, your employer pays the bills.” He told them shrugging. “Besides, you can always think of it as our own version of don’t ask, don’t tell.”

The sound of the front door opening once again caused the heads in the room to turn, as a familiar voice echoed off the walls. “Lucy! I’m home!”

“Nolan, I think you watched one too many episodes on the flight.” Jackson West told his friend as he walked through the entry way behind him.

“It was the only show that seemed entertaining during our three-hour flight and, I’ve always wanted to say that.” He sighed with a smile as he set his bag down onto the hardwood floor.

After all the greetings were exchanged and sleeping arrangements made, the group unanimously made their way around to the back of the house, a variety of beers and seltzers in hand as Tim found dry kindling to build a fire in the large stone firepit. The atmosphere around them light, a cool summer breeze making its way off the lake behind them as they caught up with one another.

“So, what are we recovering exactly?” Nyla was the first to ask, leaning forward in the Adirondack chair as she stared down the two people that called them all together once again.

Lucy took a deep breath, her thumb rubbing at the corner of the plastic label on her bottle. “Artifacts, stolen artifacts.”

“Like Indiana Jones?” asked Jackson excitedly. “You know, I’ve always wanted to try the sandbag trick, well minus the whole chased by a giant rolling rock, dodging poisonous dart and spears that want to impale you.”

“Don’t forget you get to carry a whip and the fedora.” Added in Nolan, pretending to crack a whip in his hands. “I always wanted one of those as a child.”

Tim rolled his eyes at the antics of the hired help.

“Come on Tim, you can not tell me that as a child, you never once pretended to be a treasure hunter.” Lucy smiled as she took a quick sip from the bottle in her hand. “Unfortunately, these artifacts are not as cool. But they do cost a pretty penny.”

“So, expensive treasure.” Pointed out Wesley. “Where do we come in?”

“We have three days to get everything into place, but the meet is taking place at a boat dock about an hour north of here.” Tim sighed, the plan unraveling as he stoked the fire. “So far, we know of three major players involved but expect there to be one or two more.”

“Who are we talking about?”

“Cole Midas, Nick Armstrong and Rosalind Dyer.”

Wesley let out a low whistle. “That’s the names of three people on three different most wanted lists right now.”

“Which is why this job is not going to be an easy one.” Tim told their misfit group of friends as he shared a look with Lucy. “If you want to walk away now, there would be no judgement from either of us.”

The five looked at one another, eyes bouncing from one person to the next as they each made their decision.

“I for one, could use a break from building treehouses.”

“I’m game, as long as I am back in time for my audition next week.”

Angela and Wesley shared a silent look. “We’re in.”

Lucy turned her head, looking towards the one person that had not given their answer yet. “Nyla?”

“We need a boat, right? I mean if the meeting is on a lake, we’re going to need a boat.”

Tim nodded, leaning back in his chair as he looked around the firepit at the faces of those that had saved his and Lucy’s asses more than once in the past few years. “Good. Then let’s get started.”

#the rookie fic #chenford fic #chenford fanfic #chenford #fanfic

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soundofseventeen · 5 years

Text

Just Out of Reach (Lee Jihoon)

After major writer’s block, I have returned with the next installment of SS. I’m also juggling many projects so you shall see what I have next! Also our account turned one year yesterday so thanks to everyone who’s been with us!! i own nothing!!! -Bee

Word count: 6086

Masterlist

He may have been neither been prim nor proper, but no one could say that Jihoon wasn’t punctual. All he needed was a time and place, and it was a guarantee he’d show up almost an hour beforehand. (Though, he could easily blame the anxiety wired part of his brain for that.) While handy, it often became an inconvenience when something was either cancelled or postponed. In light of recent events, however, he’d been showing on the dot or a even a minute or two late. (He knew the timer meant a life changing event; why else would he have it?) The calculator in his peripheral vision blinked a couple times in hopes of getting is attention then turned off. It’s not like he noticed it anyways. His neglected math assignment, along with other stray sheets of paper, had fallen to the floor when someone (Chan) opened the door and a gust of wind blew in. He sighed, falling to his knees and picked them up slowly, unsure where his mind had gone. The younger boy had already beat him to picking everything up, but by the time he registered it, Wonwoo had also shown up at his usual spot at the table and took out his own assignments wordlessly.

“Long day?” He asked the older boy, thanking Seungcheol for their coffees.

He huffed, ranting about how his physics professor had misplaced his midterms for the third time this month, calling out their bullshit and scalding his tongue from the caffeine. “Alright, maybe I deserved that,” he relented. “How was your weekend?”

“Not any more exciting than yours.” He didn’t mention how his plan ended up with him missing a bus by a few seconds all because he had tripped over his laces and how he now wore slip ons. The timer on his wrist slowly ticked down for whatever was meant to happen. Though math was never his strong suit and since discovering how to convert the number of days into hours and minutes, he learned very quickly, and becoming something of a math genius. “And how is that whole tattoo removal thing going for you?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes at the question, clearly not wanting that attention on him. “When I find someone who’s willing to remove this thing, I’ll let you know.” With that, he took another sip, ending the discussion. Instead, he waved at the boss from the flower shop next door and Seungkwan who walked next to her, pinkies linked and giggling at whatever they were talking about.

“You know, one day you might actually find your soulmates if you stepped foot anywhere else but here,” Jeonghan’s many greats grandmother scolded them. “They’re not coming in here anytime soon.”

Jihoon opted to humor her, a wry smile appearing on his face. “And where do you think we should go Auntie?”

“Explore my dear boy! Nothing good ever comes from staying in one place. Where is that- Jeonghan let’s move! That boy I swear.”

With your gloved hand, you waved excitedly at Soonyoung who was more focused on riding out the wave but once he caught sight of you, lost his concentration (and balance), thus falling off his surfboard and let the ocean swallow him whole and spitting him out onshore a few seconds later.

“Y/N!” He greeted happily, forgetting he was soaked to the bone and grabbing you for a bear hug. “What brings you here for a visit?”

“Uh, you texted me and asked if I was free?” You began wringing your shirt.

“ Yah! That was two hours ago! How do you know I didn’t have to go to Teipei or Osaka after you ignored me?”

You smiled at him. “You are Kwon Soonyoung, rescuer of all sea animals. You wouldn’t dare leave your reserve unless it’s absolutely necessary. Now, you know I’ve missed you and all, but you owe me a dry set of clothes and some water.”

About half an hour later, you were having lunch at a conspicuous fast food restaurant, indulging on some fries while he filled you in on his latest adventures ranging from an investment that’ll increase shark population by 15% to actually swimming with the sharks in Australia. The way he spoke so animatedly and so passionately about the wildlife often made you wonder if you were making a difference in what you did. You may have both been heirs, but the foundation he was working on was his pride and joy, something he built on his own whereas Universe Factory was technically passed down to you, sans the name.

His cold hand touching your gloved wrist brought you back to the moment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. “What?”

“Have you figured this thing out yet?”

“Not yet. I know it was at seven seconds like not too long ago.” You removed the glove and let him see the newest numbers. Soonyoung was one of the few people you trusted, not because he was one of your only friends (but that was a factor, why would you lie?) but also because curious as he was, he didn’t try to throw you on a plane to see the best scientists in the country and explain this. “What are you thinking?”

He shook his head. “I’m just-how does this work? Does it like malfunction when you get it wet or what? Or is it timing you for something?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I’ve showered a million times and it doesn’t do anything.” You sighed. “I’m sure it’s a timer though. Why else would it count down.”

“I don’t wanna freak you out but what if it’s telling you how long you have until you-”

“What? Die?” It was your turn to shake your head. “I’ve thought about it, but it doesn’t seem likely. Remember the train tracks?”

“Which you swore we would never speak of again and look what you’re doing now.” He rubbed his arm. “I just got chills, look.” (You’d been taking pictures on the tracks when the whistle starting blowing and when you started racing to get off, one of your feet got stuck between the rails and while you weren’t sure how it happened, Soonyoung managed to pull you just before it passed. The funny thing was that that incident didn’t alter the countdown.) “Maybe it’s only a matter of time until you lose your sanity,” he joked.

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” You ate in silence for a few minutes before your curiosity got the best of you. “Have you heard anything for Jun?” (One of the perks in being considered part of the elite was being in on things, but your own informant had nothing to give you on your royal friend.

“Personally, no, but one of my sources say he’s okay at the moment. Currently somewhere in Tokyo. You worried?”

“It’d be nice to hear from him directly.”

“Y/N, he’s fleeing an arranged marriage from someone who doesn’t wanna better the country. That’s better than him suffering. Now, no more depressing thoughts. Tell me more about your art museum. I know you have more ideas for the place. And if not, let me tell you about this really neat retreat we’re having soon.”

Saturday afternoon, he found Wonwoo, Hansol and his “soulmate” waiting for him at Adequate Eternity. They’d planned a small get together before heading to Universe Factory but they had time to kill so they went inside. One thought that didn’t escape his mind was whether it’d be more bearable to endure the heat the couple in front of them radiated if they weren’t touching or to deal with them constantly touching. He wasn’t bitter or anything; he just didn’t need the reminder that maybe, just maybe soulmates could be real. Or that the single life sucked. A lot. He needed a job or something that distracted him from that. But if someone could call him back, that’d be great. He snuck a peek at Wonwoo who was glaring at his arm and almost laughed. He had forgiven his best friend, despite the words that had nearly wrecked their friendship. It was, like many things, out of Wonwoo’s control. Now, whoever spoiled it for him, is another story.

“Hi guys!” Seungkwan called out to them and walked over, holding his own soulmate’s hand, and reminding Jihoon that being single was nothing short of torture. Granted, he wasn’t the lovey dovey type, but it was still nice to have someone next to him. Someone that wasn’t Wonwoo. “Busy day?”

Vernon shook his head. “Just heading out in a bit to the museum. This one-” glancing affectionately at his soulmate, “-said something about half price so why not. You guys?”

“Just taking a stroll. Hey, you guys wanna see something neat? Should we show them?” He proceeded to let go of his soulmate’s hand and walked away. “You see my ring, right?” He shook his hand a couple of times. “Now you don’t. And look who has it.” They spent a few minutes showing the table that the ring could never be lost and though there wasn’t a logical explanation for what Jihoon saw, he had to admit he was impressed, if not slightly disgusted at how cute it was.

After reluctantly saying goodbye to the happy couple, they made their way to Universe Factory. Hansol had momentarily left to buy the tickets, making them uncomfortable with the heat they radiated (said something about not wanting to make his soulmate’s roommate feel weird about it.) and it was only until after they entered the building that they held hands again and the temperature stablized.

Jihoon had only been here a handful of times prior to the reopening but he had to admit that he liked the renovations so far. He hadn’t personally met the boss, but he could tell art was definitely a passion. He knew that if he wanted to escape Wonwoo in the near (or distant!) future, this would be his getaway. However, he felt the place to be much too quiet. He could hear the whispers between the hipsters and the critiques tearing apart certain pieces and even he knew this place was more of a solstice to the lost souls, not some cocktail party and bidding on the highest pieces of some upcoming Pablo Picasso or any of the artist’s himself. He needed something to drown out the negativity. Something like, “A piano.”

“What?” Wonwoo turned his head curiously at the boy.”

“Nothing.” He shook his head. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. But a piano would sound nice. Plug it in to some speakers somewhere and it could fill the place with music. He stared at his timer for the first time that day. The day was rapidly approaching when this something would happen, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait.

You thanked the taxi with a flick of your gloved hand, staring at the art museum in front of you and the newest blueprints at your side. If everything went according to schedule, you’d be able to finish the Van Gogh inspired room by the end of the week and start your next task...though that was something you’d rather not deal with.

Ever since your parents had deemed you responsible (and old) enough to pass on their art museum to you, the transition of a spoiled child to an actual heir tending to a business became a sort of wake up call to you. You weren’t crazy about it at first, since you liked doing things that didn’t involve rules, regulations, a time frame, or commitments.You had rather been boarding a plane at any given moment and visiting a new place for days, even weeks on end than scheduling a meeting about signing over rights and who no longer had a say in anything first thing in the morning. It wasn’t your dream, not at first. Who’d want to spend money to see pictures? And at those ridiculous prices? It was no wonder you put the pieces together so quickly as to why you your allowances were cut off and you needed start making your own money: filing for bankruptcy was on the horizon.

After the legal rights to pass on the museum to you were approved, they left and you hadn’t really seen much of them, which left you to fend for yourself. You had to sell a few of your designer bags, outfits, shoes and unused cosmetics, but eventually, The Wonder Emporium reopened under Universe Factory and from there, you continued to build a legacy under your name. You lowered prices to a fairer level, thus bringing in more customers than you had ever hoped and even expanding the place. Once you had set your eyes on the works of The8, you fell in love with the arts overall. Renovations began and soon you found yourself flying all over Asia trying to not only to find his works to add to your growing collection but you collected others from those who had potential under the condition that they had the belief of all humans having rights regardless of race, ethnicity, sexual orientation and so on. Those you employed and contacted were no exception. In the short time you had taken charge, you dropped businesses, employees and anyone who so much as looked at anyone wrong. (You drew the line at discrimination, especially when it had come to a boy you knew as Hansol from word of mouth of one of your employees.) Everything seemed to be running smoothly, but now you had a meeting to attend to and

“Mingyu! Thank you for waiting! I’m so sorry I’m late! I just got carried away, and you know how it is.”

“No worries Y/N. It won’t be the last time either, I can assure you that.” He laughed. “What are we working on next?”

“Okay, I know we just reopened the place, but one of my new employees suggested we add a kinda like rec room for artists to show their works in progress, but also for anyone who wants to start doing it.” You unrolled one of the blueprints. “How much further back do you think we can go back until the city threatens to shut me down?” You joked. Looking down on the floor you noticed a silver band just near the table. You picked it up and stuffed it in your pocket, reminding yourself to ask the staff if they had lost something recently. (You knew it wasn’t Mingyu’s. His was on his pinkie finger, glimmering brightly against the fluorescents.)

Mingyu studied it carefully and quietly, taking out his calculator and ticking his fingers. He pulled out his pencil, writing out measurements, only to erase them when he did the math wrong. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?” He finally spoke without looking up. He changed a few of the numbers on your thing and circling the final number.

You made a face. “Surprise me.”

“Okay, we probably won’t be able to make it any wider without violating any laws, but we could make it a few stories higher, turn that unused attic into the room or even turn that into your office.” He removed his glasses. “Now the bad news is that this’ll go over the budget you’ve given me, so you might have to talk to your bank and your accountant to negotiate some things.”

“I-uh fired my accountant,” you admitted sheepishly.

Elbow on the table, he placed his thumb and middle finger on his temples and managed to let out a little laugh, despite his obvious frustration. “Y/N, this is the third one. What’d this one do now? Step on a puppy’s tail and kicked it to the side?”

“No, uhh, I went to go take them some receipts that I had forgotten here and well he made one of the secretaries cry for not getting some time cards in on time. So now, yikes. I’m sorry Mingyu.”

“I’m sorry Y/N, but I can’t do anything until you can make sure you can do this without falling into debt. You might have money now but at the rate you’re spending, it’s gonna be long gone before you start making profit.”

You stared at your timer, hoping for an answer or even just a clue. It counted down seven days.

“No, no. That’s fine,” Jihoon spoke to the other person on the other end of the line as he walked inside Babylon. “Thank you anyways. Uh-huh. Thanks, you too. ‘Bye.” He hung up. “Asshole.”

“You rang?” Joshua joked, popping between one of the aisles. He happily arranged a section of teddy bears, plopping a few to the side in case he decided to cave and buy them. “Everything okay Ji?”

“I’m quickly running out of money and I don’t have a job,” he made a face. “Go figure. Everywhere I apply, it’s the same thing: I’m either not qualified or I don’t have the work experience. I’m about to quit life and head back home. Maybe I can make use of myself there.” Though, he escaped Busan for that same reason. He left Joshua in his spot in hopes of finding a second hand guitar since his took a tumble off the fridge and smashed into little bits. (It took him maybe 15 minutes to remove all the splinters except for one that kept heckling his pinkie finger and irritating him more because his ring usually helped with something like that but he figured he misplaced it again.) He needed a job and fast. Maybe he could ask Auntie Jihye for potion or a spell or something to give him quick cash, not that he’d believe it but because it gave him some kinda hope.

“You’ll be fine,” Joshua reassured him appearing to fix up the teapots. “Everyone deals with this. Maybe look in the area to see where they’re hiring. I know you’re not exactly stoked to work around so many people but sometimes you have to sacrifice that for a few won.”

“Or I can end up throwing staplers at people who don’t know how to mind their own business...and possibly a restraining order from that.” He was ready to drop the subject and noticing the lack of eye bags on his friend’s face, he’d rather choose a more familiar concept. “So, um, how are you and your…‘soulmate’?” (It baffled him to think how not too long ago they were nothing but comforting faces and now they practically bared their souls to each other...well when he and Wonwoo were apart. Vernon’s soulmate managed to get him a job working at a restaurant.)

Joshua shrugged. “We’re good, I guess? She’s interested in someone right now so she tells me about it in our dreams.”

“So you haven’t seen her?”

“Not physically, but the nightmares stopped…unless one of us says the wrong thing and it pisses the other off.” He shuddered at a distant memory, subconsciously feeling for his ear.

“So are you like the only ones that aren’t dating?”

“No. Just because we’re soulmates or whatever doesn’t mean anything. It’s like saying since you and I became friends, you’re now obligated to spend all your time with me. We tried hanging out after work hours but we stopped.” A loud clattering interrupted the boys making them both jump and who else but the great Auntie Jihye stepped into view a moment later, and Joshua nodded in understanding. “Now to see what my lovestruck coworker broke.” He smiled fondly. “Last time, I managed to convince our boss that a company shipped us some vases that were already broken.” He bowed politely at Jihye and excused himself.

“Dear boy, why the long face? You look even more sour than usual.” She tickled his cheek tenderly and rather than flinching away, Jihoon let her. “I can see it in your eyes something’s bothering you.”

“I’m just tired Auntie. I’m thinking about going home.”

“I know this old lady bores with all her nonsense talk, but would you like to hear a piece of advice? Or rather, what I can see in your future if you stay?” She grabbed Jihoon’s hand without warning, and pushed up the long sleeve that concealed his torture instrument. “This is the key to the life you’ve been dreaming about. All you have to do is be patient, my dear. If you go, your regret will eat you alive.” She dug around her purse and pulled out a flier. “What you need is to get out. See the coast, smell the sea, and hear the marine wildlife. Then you can decide what you wanna do.”

“You know, when I said I owed you one, this isn’t what I had in mind.” You stared at the ship hesitantly, already feeling the seasickness hit you.

“Oh come on, we’re whale watching, not taking the blood samples for the stingrays. After all, who hooked you up with the accountant that met the delicate Y/N’s standards?” Soonyoung glanced pointedly at you. “And has forgiven you for being late...again? Besides, you missed your best friend, aka me.”

“Soonyoung, you are my only friend,” you sighed when he did a silent yes and a small fist pump. “How much longer until we get into this death trap?”

“As soon as everyone gets here. And before you ask what you’re supposed to do until then, I suggest you get yourself into more comfortable clothes. Ask someone to take you to my office.I had the clothes you brought last time washed and dry cleaned. And knowing you, I got you some thicker gloves. I don’t think you’ll need my assistance until we actually see some whales.” He shooed you along so he could finish whatever it was and with a sigh you left him to his devices.

He had just finished loading food and beverages when you came back looking like you had just seen a ghost, he jumped back. “Give me a warning next time. Shit, I could’ve died right here and then my blood would’ve been on your hands. What’s wrong now? I promise we don’t harm the animals in the lab. We just need to see if they’ve been consuming plastic or any other dangerous materials-”

You held your arm out, peeling away the glove. “It’s today,” you managed to get out. “This morning it said I had more time, but when I was getting dressed, the time changed significantly.” This had happened before but this was the first time you were actually freaking out because it never changed that drastically. A couple of minutes or hours yes, but almost four days was new to you. “Soonyoung, what do I do?”

“You can either walk away now and worry about it the whole time until you get home or you can momentarily forget this and have some fun with me, your best friend that you don’t see enough.” He batted his eyelashes. “Of course you could move in with me full time and I would still think that. But that’s not the point here. I’m just saying don’t let this thing dictate your life and question your every move.Just enjoy your day here You didn’t have to open today; you left Mingyu to work on your thing. Just relax. Now...the guests, tourists, customers, whatever you wanna call them are coming.” He started boarding the ship, his hand extended towards you. “And what are you gonna do?”

You inhaled deeply, letting the oxygen try to settle your nerves and brain in one hit and after a moment, took his hand and let him help you up. “Let’s do this thing.”

“That’s my best friend,” he mock sobbed before sobering up quickly. “If you want, you can stay in one of the back seats. A lot of passengers who get nauseous quickly say it isn’t as bad. I will be in the front giving the tour, obviously but I got you a cow bell that you can shake if you need my attention. Any questions?”

“Can I go sit down? I’m not used to so much rocking?” Of course, he laughed at you the whole time he was escorting you, and once you sat down, you rested your elbow on the railing, your fingertips touching your forehead and you breathed deeply. You loved the ocean, mind you, but you preferred swimming in it over being on top of it. How Soonyoung did this daily, you didn’t know but you commended him nonetheless. Not much later, you began hearing various voices in different languages as they took their spots and your idiot friend greeting everyone brightly. The boat had yet to stop rocking and the wind filled your nostrils with the brine and all you could do was try to not bolt. And even if you tried, you would’ve been trapped with whoever you sat next to you, making leaving impossible. The ringing in your ears didn’t help either, but you managed to look up at all the passengers that gathered up for the watch as Soonyoung began the introductions and so on.

“You okay?” The boy next to you asked.

You nodded. “I’m just not used to being on boats.”

“Me too. I get sick really fast so I push you away, I warned you. Also, I’m sorry if I talk a lot. I do that when I’m nervous.”

“It’s okay. If you have questions, you can ask me. I’m not as gifted as Soonyoung-” you pointed to the eager boy emphasizing whatever point he was making with his hands, “-with his knowledge, but there are some things that stuck with me.” The beeping in your head didn’t stop but you managed to ignore it, albeit you had to cover one of your ears and shake your head.

“You know Soonyoung?” He poked his own ear. “That’s cool.”

“At this point, I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse.” You tugged on your gloves. “He dragged me here so I could get away from the work life and enjoy the mammals doing their own thing. He’d probably have me scooping out jellyfish if I had said no to coming.”

“No kidding? One of my aunts gave me a flier to come here because I was stressed out.” He shook his arm to lower his sweater and covered his hand completely. “I’m thinking of maybe going home after I finish this semester. I find a job but I thought one last outing would be fun.”

“Where do you live?”

“In Seoul. I don’t know if you’ve been there, but it’s beautiful. There’s a remote part of it where there aren’t as many people but it’s like a whole other world. There’s like something that pulls you to come in and not leave. Kinda like magic.” He stayed quiet, thinking if he should say more. “My favorite place is a coffee shop called Adequate Eternity. The old lady who owns the place is weird but she’s welcoming.”

“Mmm, I think I went there once, but I had forgotten my card at the bank and by the time I went back, I had just finished a shit ton of meetings. The life of a business person is never ending. An employee of mine swears that the coffee gives her magic powers.”

“I second that. I’m Jihoon, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you smiled at the strange boy, trying to remember where that name rang a bell.

“What do you do Y/N? You sound busy and if you’re friends with someone like Soonyoung, it’s probably just as important.”

“I mean I don’t save the planet, but I own an art museum in Seoul. Universe Factory. I bring paintings and portraits to those who can’t leave.”

“No way! I was there last week! It looks better than before. I mean, it looked nice the old way too but now it looks more complex, the way art should be. I saw Kim Mingyu and his crew inside. Are you adding more to it.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you that he knew Mingyu but it did and you brushed it off. “I wanna add an extra story to it so anyone who wants to try out their hand at drawing or whatever it is they do, will be more than welcome to.”

“So you’re saving people then. That’s really neat.”

Pretty soon you and Jihoon were engaged in a full blown discussion involving the arts, future plans you had for the place and what you hoped could become something of a legacy. Despite the beeping you couldn’t pinpoint (since it seemed to be coming from everywhere), you enjoyed yourself, forgetting the fact you were easily seasick and that Soonyoung was ready to come to your rescue if you needed it. But you’d even forgotten you were whale watching until the mist sprayed you and even then you continued your conversations. It only ended once the tour was over and you exchanged numbers over the possibility of him coming to work for you over the suggestion of having live music and him modestly admitting he played a few instruments and the promise of you getting in touch with the person who had an impressive display of The8’s nature stuff. Minimum wage was the best you could do for now but he jumped onboard because it was better than no job and left with nothing but a wave. It was only when he left you remembered the airhead heir who was finishing up putting everything away and him smiling evilly at you that you punched his shoulder.

“Look at you making friends.”

“Employees,” you corrected. “He gave me a good idea and what better way to give someone credit than hiring them?” The sea gulls’ piercing caws reminded you of something. “Hey, did you find out where that beeping was coming from? It was hard to concentrate on anything else and it gave me a headache. I don’t know if you can still hear it. Watch, listen.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” he said after a moment of silence. “It was probably just part of your nerves. But I’ll check with my crew to see if there was anything wrong in the lower decks if you’re hearing it from out here.”

Changing back into your regular clothes, you tried remembering where and why that particular sound irritated you. It brought back the flashbacks of you trying to read quietly and someone’s watch going off as you were getting absorbed in the storyline. It was even more annoying when several others went off at similar intervals as if they were timing the beeping. Timing, countdown, timer...you removed your gloves, gasping audibly when you saw perfect zeros on your wrist. But how-you’ve been on boats and ships several times and it never happened. What could you have possibly done out of the ordinary that triggered it? The only thing that happened was meeting Jihoon, and come to think of it, the beeping started when he sat next to you.

Slowly, you tried putting the pieces together as you dove out of the dressing room, skidding to find Soonyoung... no not him, because what if maybe, you were supposed to meet Jihoon all this time? After all, what were the odds of being in the same part of the city so many times and how likely was the possibility of just missing each other? You thought back to every time the timer was in its last few seconds only to change just as something else popped up. What if he’s the mythical- “Soulmate!” It made sense after all. You’d read a few books arguing they hadn’t completely vanished. The8’s newest painting is rumored to be based on a pair of soulmates he heard about. But you? Having a chose one? Could that even happen? And that damn beeping was getting loud again. You just wanted to shut it off, but how? How?!

“Y/N, watch out!” A hand locked onto your wrist, pulling you back just as a car sped by. In an instant, three pups on the street pranced happily around your feet and that of your savior yipping and licking at your shoes until their owner called them individually as past, present and future. They barked excitedly once more before they walked away, disappearing right before your eyes. “Are you okay?” Jihoon asked. “I was over there, getting some coffee and I saw you. You looked dazed, and I called you.”

You looked at him, really looked at him. He didn’t even look remotely bothered or amazed that the scariest moment of both your lives happened so casually. Did he even know? Not responding, you pulled up the sleeve that wasn’t rolled down.

“Hey! What are you d-” He cut himself off when you showed him exactly what was going on in your head. And the ringing? Finally stopped.

“My, my! I did not expect this to happen today!” An older woman clapped giddily, breaking whatever trance had happened between you and Jihoon. “Jeonghan! It finally happened! I told you!”

“Are you guys ready?” You asked the crowd excitedly. Well, crowd wasn’t exactly the right word. It was a small gathering of the people you and Jihoon knew...mostly Jihoon. You had only invited Soonyoung and Mingyu (who was currently sporting a sprained wrist, which he swore up and down he didn’t do) for the unveiling. Jihoon, introverted as he was, took it upon himself to ask everyone he knew to come along. You’d met Wonwoo, his best friend; and with Wonwoo came his friend Hansol who had a soulmate that couldn’t be separated unless everyone wanted to be burned alive. With Hansol’s soulmate came your employee (small world!) He also invited his friend Joshua who apparently also had a soulmate, but they didn’t spend time together, so he brought his friend who also worked alongside him at a thrift store. You also met Seokmin, the boy had taken your call when placing an order for the reopening. He came along with Seungkwan who had also had a soulmate literally bound together by a red string. (And you ended up making a deal with her too that would benefit the museum and her growing collection.) And lastly, he brought along Chan, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Auntie Jihye, the kind lady who explained that Jihoon was in fact your soulmate. You never imagined something like this but it made sense.

With everyone’s eager nods, you proudly opened the velvet curtain, displaying the room dedicated to the one that made you fall in love with art: The8. Since he had the biggest room, you had taken it upon yourself to put a piano there and it was where Jihoon was pouring his heart out as he hit the keys. The idea of finding his soulmate still made him kinda skeptical but it didn’t weird him out like before. It’d take just a bit more faith for him to actually make him believe. And he got along famously with Soonyoung which helped his case. You had finally returned the missing ring to him, something he didn’t even know he lost until you presented it to him, further proving to him that maybe some things science has no explanation for.

“I’ll be right back,” your best friend excused himself, putting his phone away. You nodded at him, entertaining your guests, feeling just a bit more complete than when you had ever felt. You finally made some new friends, found out you weren’t so strange after all (though that timer reset, and gave you an estimated timeframe of your next milestone with Jihoon). “I hope you don’t mind,” Soonyoung said when he came back, “but I invited someone else.”

“Might as well bring him in,” you shrugged heading to Jihoon who looked just as happy as you felt in that moment. You scratched his head absently, letting his music seep into your soul.

“Great! Hey Hao, you can come in now!”

Jihoon’s fluid movements came to an offkey halt as his guest none other than the great The8 entered the room shyly but with a powerful undertone that demanded attention and pulled you next to him so you could compose yourself. Jihoon was quickly learning just how unpredictable your best friend was and all he could do was throw his arm around you and laugh at your shocked expression.

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alitheamateur · 5 years

Text

The Grind- Chapter 26

“You sure about this place, babe? How come you don’t just wanna grab some coffee from The Grind and go back to crash on the couch at home?” I asked as Colton pulled open my passenger side door to walk hand-in-hand with me down the sidewalk.

Luckily, I cautioned Tia’s persistent advice at dinner last night, and limited myself to only three glasses of wine, and one measly shot of Patron. So, Colton’s 7 a.m. feisty bite to the exposed skin of my cheek under the sheet as my wake-up call, wasn’t ruined with a blistering hangover. He was adamant about taking me to some diner he’d heard about from one of the guys at the bike shop to try their German potato pancakes that he was just so certain I’d love, and I was a sucker for a languid, sweatpants breakfast date every now and then.

“It’ll be fine, Livvy. Let’s enjoy some good grub, then I promise we’ll squeeze in a nap before we head to the gym later. Deal?”

He kissed the fingers that were interlocked with his own, then smiled mischievously as we slipped inside, escaping the rustling winds of the morning. We didn’t stop at the ‘wait to be seated sign’, instead Colt scanned the room, peeping over the full booths and tables around the room.

“C’mon, I see an empty table over here, babe.” he pointed, tugging me not so gently to the left of the hostess stand.

“Colton, we have to wai-,” I started to argue with his bullish, bizarre behavior, but before I could state my objections, reality slapped me across the face.

Seated with their backs to us, both sipping on a black cup of the house blend, were two Indiana natives, very far from home. Mom turned around to investigate the bustling approach over her shoulder, and stood to push herself from the seat with an unsure smile.

“Wh-..how did you guys get here? What’s going on?” I babbled wrapping a halfhearted, confused embrace around her neck, searching for an explanation from someone in the party of 3.

“It was all sweet, Colton, Liv honey. He arranged the whole thing. He insisted we come.” mom confessed, admiring Colton with a look of appreciation.

“I wanted ‘em here to see you fight, baby. And to see the house and everythin’. They got here yesterday afternoon, and I got them all set up at Westin, and ate dinner with the both of ‘em last night to get familiar.”

The pieces started to connect then. Why Tia was so snarky with keeping me away from the bottle, why Colton was so incessant about dragging me out of the house before 9 a.m. this morning, and why there was a button-down dress shirt discarded into the hamper when I did laundry after a late return home last night. I internally tipped a hat to his successful undercover moonlighting, though.

“Kid wouldn’t take a dime from us, either. Paid for the tickets, a ride from the airport, and our room, too. Seems we owe this one, sweetheart.” I heard dad say as I took one of the empty seats across the table from he and mom.

Their visit may not have been on my terms, or my timing, but I did feel complete having them here. Although there was a suitcase of nerves that landed on that plane along with their arrival to Pittsburgh, it just felt, right. The four of us, together, all in one place had me swelling with a sense of gladness and completion, all courtesy of the mysterious man in blue seated to my right.

“I can’t believe you did all this, Ritter. I expect a play-by-play when we get home, ya’ big box of lies.” I leaned to kiss him sincerely.

“I’m pretty impressed with myself to tell the truth.”

The meal consisted of bacon all around, mom whining about the cold temperature, those potato cakes Colton was correct about me losing my mind over, and a general calm, steady flow of conversation. I was impressed at how normal, and interested Tony and Liz seemed to be the entire time. Dad never brought up a single utterance of basketball, and mom pounded me with questions about my match, and what it would be like. I felt a connection so genuine that had been minuscule for so many years, and I knew Colton played a tremendous role in the healing psychological wounds.

“You guys should come by the house and spend the afternoon with us. All my stuff is moved in, and it doesn’t look like a construction site anymore. Mom, we could swing by the food market to get what you need for gran’s jambalaya for dinner, too!”

My inner, overly-eager, rambunctious childlike manner took me over, and I instantly began bulleting out an itinerary of events. I’d have to take mom to meet Andrew, and she would die over the Americana at The Grind. And dad, maybe Colton and I could take him to the trolley museum and a PNC park tour in the next couple of days.

“Livvy, we’ve got to try and get to the gym for a few hours today. It’s down to crunch time, babe,” Colt reminded me with apologetic tone. “But, we can check them out their room, and settle ‘em in at the house first, okay?”

Of course, the gym. This week wouldn’t be one of family dinners and touristy adventures with the fight countdown fuse burning low. And now, I had even more work to do down at Temple Fitness with my parents in attendance. The weight of potentially letting Colton, Tia, and the rest of my corner down was sickening enough, now add the weight of Tony and Elizabeth and you’ve got one wound tight Liv. Perfectionism is a weakness not all can relate to, and of that they should be eternally thankful. I failed my Warrior teammates and the rest of my small-town not so many years ago, and that disappointment in itself nearly disconnected me entirely. I may have grown and evolved in many ways since relocating to the Pittsburgh, but the will to please my loved ones was a quality I would undoubtedly live with until my final breath.

“You do whatever needs to be done today, sweetheart. I know these next few days are crucial, so don’t mind us. We’ll take whatever time you can give us.” my mom pats my hand from across the table, and shot and thoughtful smirk.

“We’re just happy to be here, Livvy. You’ve got a good one there.” My dad’s opinion of the man I loved was never considered to be a worry I had, but in that moment, I couldn’t have been more prideful in how truly wonderful Colton had been to them, and to me for organizing this little surprise.

After dragging my parents’ belongings up the front steps of our home, and leaving them the keys to my car in case they got the pangs to explore around a bit, Colton and myself dutifully reported for in for a session down to the gym. The last couple days I had been studying up on a submission move I really wanted to try out. The Omoplata essentially was a move to apply unbearable stress on the arm of your opponent, inevitably resulting in a tap out. Tia, nor Colton had introduced me to the technique, but it was one I had stumbled upon doing some research on my own one afternoon during some down time at the Pilot office. Having never actually seen it done in reality, I only had internet tutorials, and other martial arts circuit fights that had been posted online to educate myself.

Upon trucking into the somewhat crowded parking lot, and settling my duffle into a locker down the hall from the ring room, Tia had called to say something had soured in her stomach, and she wouldn’t be making it in to train with us today unless I wanted to mop up her throw-up. Naturally, I insisted she stay in and recover, leaving me in the hands of Colt.

“Grab the rope, let’s warm up for 10 minutes after you stretch, babe.” my handsome trainer instructed as he downed the settlings of a pre-workout drink at the bottom of his cup.

“Did you remember to tell dad about the construction on Liberty bridge in case they decide to venture out of the house?” My voice vibrated as I bounced with the whip-like jump rope.

“Yep, as we were walkin’ out the front door, Liv. Don’t worry, ‘ight? They’ll be fine. I gotta say though, I wasn’t expectin’ ya’ to be so thrilled about ‘em being here.”

I was fairly flabbergasted myself in that matter, but I had no explanation for my nervous excitement. I guess, maybe it was the common cliché of not knowing how much you in fact needed something, until you had it.

“Thank you, handsome. I really am glad you did all that. Although, I’m a little concerned with all the unsuspected sneaking around you were able to get away with.” I smirked, dropping the braided rope to adjust the tightness of my messy bun.

“It nearly got the best ‘a me lying to you like that, but it was for good reason, at least. Except, them being at the house every night for the next few days may turn out to be a little problem. Seein’ as their daughter can’t keep her greedy little hands off me & all…” he teased unnlacing his trainers to pull of his socks before we moved into the ring. He was knelt on one knee just a foot or two behind where I stood, then inched over in that crouched position to friskily bite the pert cheek of my backside, and grabbed a handful of the other.

I’d never get tired of those stout, mitt-like hands of his touching my body, and I let my head drop backward a bit to sigh into his touch. If by some unfortunate event, things between us happen to fall to pieces again, no man would ever live up to the bar set by the infamous Colton Ritter.

“I can manage a little self-control, you animal. Let’s make a bet on who caves in first, shall we?” I said, stepping over the middle rope of the mat.

“You better be careful playin’ with fire girl. You may get burned.”

We had bounced around, grappling and rolling for nearly an hour already, with just a couple rushed breaks for water, and I still hadn’t built up the courage to try the move I had been so eager to crack at. I welcomed the respect that Colton had to never half-ass me when we did train one-on-one, however always extremely careful to make sure I was never harmed in any way. His insights, and words of wisdom related to the cage were something I considered to be a matchless gift, and I loved him eternally for offering it up.

Just as I was about to weigh the Omoplata to be the impossible, especially considering my mock opponent at the current time, Colton let down a wall, and broke his own most crucial ‘golden rule’ of fighting. He attempted to tangle me, but instead, mistakenly gave me his back, awarding me the perfect moment to pounce. I pinched his shoulder between the bones of my knees, then swung one leg hurriedly over his head. Colton’s arm was trapped between the center of my limbs, essentially hooked around my left thigh as I crossed my ankles. I flattened his chest and face to the mat with speed I didn’t know I had, and swung my legs to the side, easing into a squat with his helpless arm still locked in. The stretching pressure of his muscle grew the higher I raised, and defeated, Colton yelped out with a tap.

Instantly releasing, I tumbled to my back, and laid to rest with exasperating breaths. Executing the technique on an individual with such a powerful strength, was equally as exhausting on the attacker as the victim, and I could feel my blood tingling, and rushing through my veins like the Colorado rapids.

“I sure as hell don’t fuckin’ remember teachin’ you that, 2-1,” my captor said still face planted onto the canvas, almost cackling. “But you pulled it off with damn near perfection. I’m impressed, baby!”

“That one is just a little something I picked up on my own. Coach…” I replied, mounting his back to massage his shirtless shoulders.

Colton flipped, doing a 180 to now laying on his back, with me still atop him with a sweaty, rosy face.

“Oh, so she thinks she can pin me now, huh? Don’t get too comfortable up there, Elliott. You know I don’t do bottom.”

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @littleluna98 @mollybegger-blog

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfic #tom hardy fanfiction #tomhardyfanfiction #tommy conlon #elizabeth olsen #thegrind

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thecomicsnexus · 5 years

Text

The Joker

BATMAN #1 SPRING 1940 BY BILL FINGER, JERRY ROBINSON AND BOB KANE

SYNOPSIS (FROM DC FANDOM)

The Joker announces on the radio that he will kill Henry Claridge and steal the Claridge diamond at midnight. A cordon of cops guard Claridge's home, but he dies anyway, at midnight with a grotesque smile on his face. (He's been dosed, much earlier, with a delayed-action treatment of Joker Venom.) The police then discover that the diamond was already stolen, and that it was replaced with a glass one, and the Joker has left behind his calling card, a Joker.

Later the Joker goes on radio and announces that he will kill Jay Wilde and steal the Ronkers Ruby. Once again a cordon of police fails to safeguard the victim, who is killed at exactly midnight, with a poison dart, by the Joker, hiding in a suit of armor. The Joker deploys a paralyzing gas against the police, and departs with his loot.

But a mobster named Brute Nelson, who is enraged that the Joker is pulling off all these jobs that he had planned to do, sends word out that he thinks that the Joker is a coward. Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson hear about this and suspect a trap. Batman goes to the mobster's house. The Joker is also there, and he shoots and kills Nelson, but he is pursued by Batman. However, the Joker gets the upper hand by knocking Batman off a bridge.

Luckily Batman survives. The Joker then resumes his work by announcing that he will kill Judge Drake. The Joker impersonates the police chief, and kills the judge with Joker Venom, and leaves. Robin has been stationed outside, to follow whoever comes out, and he trails the killer to an abandoned house, where the Joker turns the tables on him and captures Robin.

The soles of Robin's shoes have been painted with an special chemical, and Batman used infra-red goggles to follow his trail, arriving just in time to save him from an injection of Joker Venom, and there's a big fight. The Joker sprays Batman with the same paralyzing gas that had taken out a whole squad of cops, but Batman just shakes it off, grabs Robin, and escapes. The Joker also manages to escape. Robin then tells Batman that the Joker was saying that he was going after the Cleopatra Necklace, owned by Otto Drexel. Batman and Robin arrive while the robbery is still in progress; the Joker uses all his ammunition shooting Batman in the chest; Batman has on a bullet-proof vest; Joker loses and is sent to the State Penitentiary.

Professor Hugo Strange returns with a growth formula that changes asylum inmates into 10-foot tall "man-monsters" that wreak havoc on Gotham City. Batman is captured and injected with the serum, but manages to escape and create an antidote. Batman then punches Strange out the window into the murky waters below. Batman then pilots the Batplane and kills many of Strange's henchman, and some of the monsters, with machine-gun fire. He also manages to hang one of the monsters with his Batrope. He finally kills the last monster by throwing tear gas pellets while it is atop a skyscraper, causing it to fall to its death.

An elderly socialite, Mrs. Travers, is going on a yacht trip with several select friends and a $500,000 emerald necklace. Suspecting that some crook or other will try to steal it, Dick Grayson gets a job as a steward, as Batman has other business elsewhere. Soon, Dick has some suspects: Denny, Mrs. Travers' favourite nephew, who has borrowed lots of money from his aunt in the past (and brought an elderly guest, Miss Peggs, with him), Wallace, Mrs. Travers' doctor (who frequently borrows money to pay off gambling debts), and Mrs. Travers' brother Roger (who wants money to cover stock market losses).

Denny throws a piece of paper over the side of the yacht, but the wind blows it back to Dick. The letter is from The Cat, asking Denny to keep Mrs. Travers away from her room. Suspecting the theft is about to take place, Dick hurries to the cabin, but Mrs. Travers has already discovered the theft. A boat claiming to be the Coast Guard approaches, but it is actually full of mobsters, after the necklace. The mobsters content themselves with stealing everything else, but when they go to shoot someone for protecting his wife, Dick barrels into them and gets knocked into the sea. He takes this chance to turn into Robin.

Meanwhile, the mobsters leave, satisfied with their takings. They race away, but Batman appears and knocks them around. Robin has surfaced and joins in, with an object lesson. consisting of him versus four unarmed mobsters. The crooks quit (to stop Robin from hitting them any more), and Batman proves that, without their guns, crooks are cowards through and through.

They return to the yacht and Batman crashes a fancy dress party, to be awarded with the first prize. He returns the stolen loot and Robin sets off the fire alarm. This is a trap to persuade the Cat to reveal him/herself. Mrs. Peggs races off surprisingly well for someone with a bad ankle, but the Dynamic Duo still catch her. Batman pulls off her wig and removes her make-up to reveal a pretty girl. The necklace is hidden under her bandage. Denny tries to take the necklace, but Batman knocks him out. The Cat tries to persuade Batman to join her as King of Crime, but he refuses.

Then, despite leaving Denny on the yacht, Batman takes the Cat to the police himself. However, the Cat jumps over the side and Batman lets her escape. He's clearly smitten.

Two days after the Joker is captured, he manages to escape using explosive chemicals hidden in some false teeth, and begins to cause more trouble. At home, Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson hear the news on the radio and Bruce speculates that Joker is probably after vengeance. The Joker enters his secret laboratory through a hidden entrance in the graveyard, and starts plotting. He threatens Chief of Police Chalmers, and kills him a dart, released with a phone call.

The next day, a painting is stolen, and the owner of a stolen gem is found dead, grinning. Then the Joker threatens to steal the Cleopatra necklace. Bruce Wayne, hearing it on the radio, promises to stop him. That night, in the museum, the Joker emerges from a sarcophagus, and uses his poison to incapacitate the guards. Batman appears and disarms him. The Joker seizes an axe and knocks out Batman. The Police arrive, and find the unconscious Batman AND the missing necklace. Before the cops can remove Batman's cowl, he snaps awake and escapes out the window.

A reformer, Edgar Martin calls for the capture of the Joker, and is marked for death. That night, Martin is under guard and plays cards to calm down. But the pack is all jokers, and poison-laced, killing Martin.

The next day Bruce Wayne suggests a trap for the Joker to his friend Commissioner Gordon. The press prints a series of articles on the Fire Ruby, and despite suspecting a trap, the Joker goes for it. When he arrives, the police surround him, and he shoots, making for the roof. Robin, waiting for him, follows. Joker knocks him off the roof, but Robin grabs a flagpole to save himself. Running down to see if Robin has died, the Joker takes aim and is intercepted by Batman. Robin falls down and lands on the Joker. Batman and Joker fight, and Joker stabs himself in the chest. Batman and Robin flee, leaving the Police to find out that the Joker is still alive.

REVIEW

There is very little that hasn’t been said about the Joker influences. But I think this issue is pretty much a 70% influence for “The Dark Knight” film. Most of the things that happen here, happened in the movie as well (Jerry Robinson was a consultant for the film). I always read that “The Long Halloween” was an influence for the Nolan trilogy, but I cannot really see that much of it in the movies (at least, not more than Year One).

This is also Catwoman’s first appearance (as “The Cat”), and it is established that Batman has the hots for her. This brings some friction with the pre-prepubescent Dick Grayson.

It is also noticeable that Batman is trying not to kill now that Robin is with him (and they dedicate at least two pages to make a point about not using guns to fight). The contrast is very obvious, because in the one story in this book without Robin, Batman kills at least four people (AT LEAST!). He also has a machine gun in his bat-plane. You never know when that might come useful.

Of course, the Joker wasn’t still fully developed. In this story, the motivation for his crimes is mostly jewels. This would make no sense for modern Joker. I also understand the idea was for the Joker to die in the end of the issue, but someone at DC decided to change the ending to allow him to be a recurring villain. Well, knowing comics, he would have come back anyway!

I give the issue a score of 8

#bob kane #jerry robinson #batman80 #batman #robin #joker #catwoman #hugo strange #dc comics #golden age #1940 #world war ii #comics #review #dark knight

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cityofaangels · 7 years

Text

All Would Be Well (WinterIron)

I have this... thing I began to write in a plane and finished to write totally jet-lagged and with a brain not fully online.

As life kinda sucks these last days with all these awful people, I thought that a bit of fluff, although very badly written, would maybe help some people feel better. Or maybe juste one, but that’s already great.

Anyway. There are Harry Potter spoils in there, so if you haven’t read the books or watched the movies, maybe avoid reading this?

Take care of yourself :)

Everything began when Bucky, shyly and kinda awkwardly, came to see him in his workshop on a sunny afternoon – well, at least he guessed it was sunny, he hadn't actually seen the sun in… a while – and asked:

‘You said I could come and see you if I had any question, right?’

Eyebrows raised, Tony shut down the experiment he was currently working on and turned his whole attention to Bucky, looking at him curiously.

‘Sure. What's up? Problem with the arm?’

‘Uh, no. The arm's fine. Great, actually. It's just that, well, it's kinda stupid, but I wanted to ask you if maybe… Do you have any book recommendation?’ he finally asked all in a rush, making it near incomprehensible.

With an encouraging smile, Tony clapped a hand on his shoulder.

‘Come on Bucky, you should know I'm not one to judge. Say that again?’

‘I like reading,’ the supersoldier mumbled. ‘Well, I liked reading, at least. Haven't had time to open a book for a while. And uh, I know you've got tons of them on your StarkPads, and there's probably a library in here somewhere, but it's just that I have absolutely no idea of where to begin. And I asked Steve to help me, but we don't exactly have the same kind of tastes, and I asked Barton but he likes these stupid romantic books and…’

‘Got it. Say no more, I'm pretty sure I have what you need. Come on, I have it in my room.’

‘No library in here, then?’

‘Oh yeah, there's one – use it whenever you want, by the way, Jarvis'll be happy to help you if you need it. I think there's even a bookshop somewhere on the public levels. But what I'm going to show you is special. You'll see.’

Curious, Bucky followed him to his room, looking around once they arrived. He hadn't actually set a foot in Tony's quarters yet, rather staying in the communal area or his own room, but he liked what he saw. Modern designs and different grays with the odd touch of color. He couldn't help a smile when he entered Tony's room and saw the huge bed, the dozen of pillows on it, and… He took a step closer, frowning and getting a better look at the drawings framed and hung right above the bed. One of them was obviously one of Steve's, light and dark grays showing Iron Man in the middle of a fight, so realistic it almost felt to Bucky as if he could feel cold metal under his fingers if he were to touch it. The other one was of Dora the Explorer, colors not exactly right where they should be, even if the whole thing looked as if it had been made with love; it was signed in pink in big letters, smaller letters stating 'thanks for the watch and for everything, Tony!'.

‘This one makes for a crazy midnight story,’ the engineer said softly, looking at the drawing, smile audible in his voice. ‘Remind me to tell you.’

‘Is it one of these stories where you almost die?’

‘Uh… Well, yeah. But this particular part is funny, I swear. Here, that's the book.’

Bucky turned around and looked at the slim, red book Tony was holding in his hands, almost solemnly. The title – Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone – vaguely reminded him of something. He took it carefully and looked at the picture of a young boy with round glasses standing in front of a train. When he opened it, he discovered a carefully crafted signature inside, of what looked to be the author herself.

‘She sold it a few years back to collect money for her charity. It's one of the first books that were edited, about twenty years back. It's got a typo somewhere, maybe you'll see it. I've got a cheaper version of it in the library, the American one, but this way you can have, you know… the whole experience, I guess.’

‘Are you sure, Tony? That looks more like it should be kept in a museum somewhere.’

‘You're not totally wrong,’ Tony admitted. ‘But you'll take care of it. I trust you,’ he added in a soft voice.

A few silent seconds passed, both of them determinedly looking at everything but each other, until Bucky awkwardly cleared his throat.

‘No offense, 'cause I can definitely see that you care about this book, but isn't it like a… book for children, maybe? I mean, I kinda remember seeing it before, and hearing about it, but was mostly, well, children, who read it.’

‘Oh, but it is. This one is probably the less adult-y one, but wait till you see the six others and-’

‘There are seven of them?’

‘Yeah. Far from enough, sadly,’ he sighed. ‘I tried bribing the author so she'd write more, but it didn't't work. Figure. Anyway, let's make a deal, okay? Trust me on this one book and try to read it. No pressure, take your time, but read it. You don't like it, no worries, lots of other books to read. But I think you'll like it. Deal?’

‘Well, it is pretty short, so I sure can try. Deal. I'll tell you about it in a few days.’

Instead of a few days later, it was actually a few hours later, in the middle of the night, when someone knocked at Tony's door, making it startle lightly. He closed the book he was currently reading – Stephen King, a classic – and stood up quickly, walking to the door. Bucky was waiting on the other side, sheepish smile on his face and book tucked safely under his arm.

‘I asked Jarvis if you were sleeping, but he told me I could come and see you. God, Tony, that was amazing! Are the other six as good as this one?’

Tony grinned at Bucky's sparkling eyes and opened the door, gesturing for him to come inside; he nodded and gently pushed him forward when the supersoldier hesitated slightly, looking at him.

‘Come on, that's a conversation that asks for comfortable armchairs and hot chocolate. Sit down, I'll be back in a sec.’

Slightly flabbergasted, Bucky obeyed and chose one of the two armchairs, sinking into it with a smile; Tony had a talent for choosing comfortable furniture to sit on and read, or watch television for hours. He listened to the reassuring silence for a while, enjoying the simple fact that he was safe, before Tony returned, holding a cup of steaming hot chocolate in each hand and a pack of marshmallows between his teeth. He put everything on the small table and settled on the other armchair, cradling the cup between his hands and looking at Bucky with a crooked smile.

‘To answer your question, yes, the other are as good as this one. I have a slight preference for the third and last one, but that's just me; everybody has a favorite one. Come on, I need to know more. Who did you like, who did you hate?’

‘This Snape guy is a prick,’ Bucky mumbled. ‘You know, he makes me think of Howard in his worst days.’

He stood up, worried, when Tony coughed suddenly, something between a laugh and a gasp escaping him, but the engineer hold a hand up reassuringly, taking a few deep breaths.

‘Sorry. You surprised me, that's all. I actually think the same thing, you know, but I thought you and Steve were… pals with him? I mean, the way he talked about you-’

‘He helped us, yeah, but I always thought he was a prick, and an arrogant one with that. Anyway,’ he added rather hurriedly when he noticed the way Tony had tensed up, ‘I love Hermione. So smart – she's kinda like you actually, you know. You trust her with your life and you know you don't risk a thing.’

Tony blushed beautifully in front of him, taking a sip of chocolate to try and hide it, and Bucky smiled inwardly; he kept talking before Tony could even think of denying it.

‘Ron's funny, seems like the kinda guy you want to have as a friend. Harry's great too, of course. And Quidditch! My god, Quidditch. Any way we can play Quidditch with your tech?’

‘Well, I can tell you a secret if you swear never to repeat it…’

‘I swear. Come on Tony, out with it. Quidditch?’

‘My mind tends to, uh, create funny things when I'm not totally, one hundred percent sober,’ he winced. ‘So there might be a Quidditch simulator somewhere in the lab. I'll have to work on it for a while if you really wanna try it out but, yeah. It's a thing.’

‘Oh my god. Tony, you are the best.’

The following afternoon – Bucky had finally got back to his room late in the night (or early in the morning) with the promise that Tony would give him the second book if he caught some sleep – Clint almost got killed by the whole Avengers team. They were all lounging in the communal room, television playing a movie in the background even if most of them were reading or talking between themselves. Bucky was fully focused on his book – this one was signed specially for Tony, a birthday gift from himself to himself – when he absentmindedly mumbled.

‘God, I love Dobby. So funny.’

The team turned in his direction and Clint's eyes widened dramatically; he opened and closed his mouth a few times before stating:

‘Oh man, are you in for a surprise.’

After a second of silence, two very loud cracks – not totally unlike the noise an house elf made, actually – resounded, followed by a groan.

‘Aw, Nat, Tony!’

Hands still raised, they both glared at him, joined by all the other members of the team, except for Bucky, who was watching them with confusion.

‘What did he say?’ he asked with an eyebrow raised.

‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing,’ answered Tony, crossing his arms. ‘Barton, I will remind you that we live in a spoiler-free house. One more remark like this one and you sleep on the roof for a week.’

Casting a quick look outside and seeing the rain falling, Clint nodded easily enough.

‘Sure. Got it. Enjoy your read, Bucky. I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I don't exist. Bye.’

No matter the time of day or night, when Bucky finished one of the books, he came to Tony and they discussed it for hours.

That was how they discussed the very probable homosexuality or bisexuality of most of the Marauders. And how they both learned that the Marauders were not the only not-straight ones.

That was how they discussed at length why Dobby was one of the coolest characters of the books – alongside with Neville, who strongly reminded them both of Steve pre-serum, and Luna. And that was the reason behind a Roomba called Dobby who roamed the Tower, always with one (or more) sock behind him.

That was how they had a heated argument about shitty teachers and bullies… And how Tony finally explained the extent of Howard's disgust for his son and the psychological scars he left behind.

That was how Tony found himself with an armful of a sobbing Bucky who moaned about the unfairness of loosing family members and the guilt of dealing with it.

That was how they talked about PTSD, hot chocolates in hand, sharing soft looks and shy smiles despite the hard topics.

That was how some of the guilt and nightmares slowly disappeared.

Ironically enough, Dobby's death – cute, funny, brave Dobby – was the reason behind their first kiss. Because what could Tony do with an angry, hurt and teary-eyed Bucky but kiss him?

It was soft and hesitant, kinda awkward at the beginning, but so good, Bucky's metal hand fitting perfectly on his back, his flesh hand stroking his hair, his warmth and smile only making it better. So so much better.

And even if Tony knew that Bucky would probably cry at every death that followed, would probably be as devastated at turning the last page as Tony had been a few years back, he knew.

He knew that he would be able to make it better by kissing him, by cuddling him, by teasing them. And he knew that in the end… All would be well.

#winteriron #tony stark #Iron Man #Bucky Barnes #Winter Soldier #Avengers #Harry Potter x Marvel #Steve Rogers #Clint Barton #Natasha Romanov #Captain America

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kristablogs · 4 years

Text

Inside a training mission with a B-52 bomber, the aircraft that will not die

Capt. Carlos Espino (call sign "Loko"), foreground, walks towards a B-52 for a training flight out of Barksdale Air Force Base on March 10th. (Rob Verger /)

Just before 9 a.m. on a blue-sky Louisiana morning, a giant gray B-52 bomber gradually lifts off the tarmac with some 190,000 pounds of fuel on board, a trail of dark exhaust behind it.

A few seconds later, there’s a small glitch: One of the aircraft’s landing gear legs—the rear one on the left—decides to stay down. The rest fold up, as they should. The pilots determine that the problem isn’t big enough to scrub the day’s flight, so the bomber pushes on with its training mission, two big wheels hanging down for five hours like an incomplete thought, limiting the plane’s speed and reducing its fuel efficiency. At some point, as planned, the crew refuels from behind an airborne tanker, taking on thousands of more pounds of gas.

That’s the B-52—a beefy old bomber that dates back to the post-World War II years. Though the US military has incorporated sleeker flying machines in recent decades, it’s not retiring what’s known as the “BUFF,” or Big Ugly Fat Fucker, anytime soon. The aircraft that lifted off that March morning from Barksdale Air Force Base in northwestern Louisiana was built by Boeing in Wichita, Kansas, and delivered to the Air Force in early March of 1962. The Cold War-era ship is far older than its two pilots that day: Carlos Espino (call sign “Loko”), 27, and Clint Scott (call sign “Silver”), 34.

Operating the B-52 is like “flying a museum,” Espino says from the left-hand seat in the cockpit just before the mission. “It’s a brick—I would say it’s like wrestling.” He’s a friendly, burly guy, and his squadron, the 20th, are known as the Buccaneers. The patch on his right shoulder shows a pirate throwing a bomb.

“It has a lot of redundant systems,” Espino adds. “So if one system fails, there’s plenty of other systems to back it up.” The most challenging maneuver, he says, is precisely lining the aircraft up with a tanker in the sky to accept more fuel. “At the end of air refueling, you’re literally sweating.”

The plane may be large—its 185-foot wingspan and 159-foot length make it bigger than a 737, and smaller than a 747—but the space for the crew is cozy. Behind and below the cockpit is a small submarine-like compartment, sometimes illuminated in red, where two others sit: radar navigator Rebecca “Ripper” Ronkainen, and aircraft navigator Jacob Tejada, both 28. If anything happens that requires an airborne evacuation from the jet, Ronkainen and Tejada’s ejection seats blast downwards rather than upwards, which is only safe if the plane is more than 250 feet off the deck. Also on board that day is an instructor and weapons systems officer, call sign “Pibber.”

Right behind where Tejada and Ripper work is a urinal. Ideally, no one poops on a B-52, even if the mission drags on for hours. Imodium can help.

Officially called the Stratofortress, or less officially, the Stratosaurus, the B-52 sports a wealth of engines hanging from its big wings. While most airliners rely on two or four engines, the BUFF has eight TF-33 turbofan thrusters. The Air Force is set to replace those engines with new ones, an improvement that could boost the jet’s efficiency by at least 20 percent.

Upgrades like that should help the B-52 fit in a little better with the Air Force’s more modern lineup. Many of the bombers have also been outfitted with a new digital system, though the craft’s cockpit is still very much awash in traditional analog dials. Plus, each BUFF goes through an exhaustive maintenance process every four years that involves some 40,000 hours of labor and around 3,000 swapped parts. The Air Force says it would like to keep the BUFF flying until 2050; it’s a plane they keep investing in because they have it, and because it can do, and has done, a lot.

Rebecca “Ripper” Ronkainen tests her oxygen mask and communications equipment before the day's flight. (Rob Verger /)

B is for bomber

The Air Force’s fleet of bombers is an alphabet soup of “Bs” and numbers. There’s the B-1 Lancer, which now only carries conventional bombs, due to a treaty called New START. There’s the B-2 Spirit, a stealthy wing that can deliver either conventional or nuclear weapons. There’s the B-52. And finally, there’s the B-21 Raider, the Air Force’s forthcoming stealth bomber, which is still in the works.

Currently, the military owns 20 B-2s, 62 B-1s (that number may decrease to 45 next year), and 76 B-52s. That makes the BUFF, with its long, swept-back wings and narrow body, the most abundant.

“The B-52 has been a workhorse of the Air Force for decades,” says Todd Harrison, who directs the Aerospace Security Project at the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS). “It’s a remarkable aircraft, and I think it has really proven out the concept that your major platforms can stay relevant, long after their design life, by upgrading the components and the technologies that go on them.”

What makes the BUFF so enduring is the way it was first designed, says General Timothy Ray, the head of Air Force Global Strike Command. When they built the B-52 in the early 1960s, “you could do some precision engineering and precision manufacturing, but back then the efficiency wasn’t the driver,” he explains. “Today, you have the technical means to plan and manufacture to the finest of requirements.” In other words, they don’t build bombers like they used to.

Ray also notes that there’s more than one way to measure a plane’s age. “When you look at the life remaining in the air frame, the B-52 is the youngest,” he says.

Over the next decades, the Air Force might slim its bomber fleet down to just the futuristic B-21s and the old-school B-52s. Ray describes a fleet on the order of 75 BUFFs and 100 Raiders, or ideally even more: 220 bombers in total.

The costs involved with aircraft like these are astronomical. Giving each B-52 eight new engines and other upgrades requires a budget of about $130 million per plane, Ray says. The new B-21 Raider will be even pricier to buy, which is why the fleet of tomorrow would be a mix of vintage and new. What’s more, the B-52 is a metal bird that’s already in the hand, which is another reason to keep it running. “This is real,” Ray says, “whereas the B-21 is in parts getting put together right now.”

On a per-plane basis, the B-52 is less expensive for the Air Force to own and fly than the other bombers. The BUFF fleet costs the Air Force $1.4 billion per year, according to Harrison, which translates to around $18 million for a single aircraft annually. The B-1, meanwhile, clocks in at $23 million per plane each year, and the B-2 a whopping $43 million. Part of the reason for the difference is that because the Air Force has so many B-52s compared to the others, the operational costs per aircraft are much lower. But no matter how you slice it, bombers don’t come cheap.

A crew member enters the aircraft through the hatch in its belly. (Rob Verger /)

Sending a message

The US has three different ways of deploying nuclear weapons: intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs), nuclear missile-outfitted submarines, and those B-52 and B-2 bombers. The Air Force calls this apocalyptic arsenal the “nuclear triad.”

During a nuclear attack, Harrison says that America’s ICBMs would need to be taken out first: They’re a “missile sink.” Submarines, designed to survive, then would respond to that initial attack from their underwater hideouts. Non-stealth bombers are different, however, because they’re the most visible and dynamic. “They’re the one leg of the triad that is both unpredictable and can be used for signaling [to an adversary] in a crisis,” Harrison says.

Meanwhile, ICBMs, Ray says, are difficult to “message” with because the missile silos themselves are static. “Bombers, though, are flexible. And you can recall a bomber,” he says. “When I launch an ICBM—that’s it. Thirty minutes later, things are going down.”

Having BUFFs and other aircraft on hand also allows the military to conduct what it calls bomber task forces. Ray notes that they’ve sent bombers into the Black Sea, “which drives the Russians crazy, and it makes our day.” The same goes for flights into the Baltic Sea.

Russia performs similar operations with their fleet. Just this month, NORAD reported that that country flew bombers within 37 miles of Alaska.

Clint "Silver" Scott in the cockpit before the day's flight. (Rob Verger /)

Wheels down

As useful as the BUFF has been, though, CSIS’s Harrison wonders about the aircraft’s ongoing effectiveness against any country with modern safeguards. “If we have a conventional fight against Russia or China, the B-52 is a sitting duck to air defense systems and to Chinese and Russian fighter jets,” he says. In that case, the plane would have to operate at a safe distance from those countries, where its only effective weapons would be pricey cruise missiles. In a scenario like that, a stealthy B-2 or the forthcoming B-21 bomber might be more useful.

“At some point, you have to let important aircraft go,” Harrison says. “Is it really worth it to keep these planes in the air, or for the same amount of money, could we buy something else that’s more useful to us?” On that note, Harrison brings up a Navy aircraft called the P-8 Poseidon, which is like a 737 but can carry weapons such as cruise missiles. When asked if the military was thinking about a B-52 alternative like the Poseidon, an Air Force spokesperson said by email: “The Pentagon is carefully considering options and planning experiments toward the prospect of fielding such a plane.” A related idea is something called an arsenal aircraft, which could deploy what’s known as “standoff” weapons from afar.

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dailymotion

Ultimately, the BUFF has its quirks—one of which was on full display during that March training mission out of Louisiana. The issue with the stubborn stay-down wheels stemmed from a fascinating design feature on the aircraft that allows the plane to pivot its main landing gear, so that if it’s landing in a cross wind, the nose of the beast can face into the wind while its wheels line up with the runway. Those landing gear legs can’t fold up into the belly, though, unless the switches say they’re centered. And sometimes the switches that control the wheels just “get out of rig,” an Air Force spokesperson wrote via email.

In fact, after that five-hour flight, another team quickly hopped into the same B-52 and took off again with the landing gear issue still unresolved, its crew said. That’s the BUFF. It’s not perfect, but it’s pretty good, and it gets a lot done. That should be enough to keep it cruising onward, punching through the sky for maybe the next three decades, perhaps with the occasional part out of place.

For more photos from inside and around the aircraft, click here or swipe through the gallery, below.

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scootoaster · 4 years

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Inside a training mission with a B-52 bomber, the aircraft that will not die

Capt. Carlos Espino (call sign "Loko"), foreground, walks towards a B-52 for a training flight out of Barksdale Air Force Base on March 10th. (Rob Verger /)

Just before 9 a.m. on a blue-sky Louisiana morning, a giant gray B-52 bomber gradually lifts off the tarmac with some 190,000 pounds of fuel on board, a trail of dark exhaust behind it.

Right behind where Tejada and Ripper work is a urinal. Ideally, no one poops on a B-52, even if the mission drags on for hours. Imodium can help.

Rebecca “Ripper” Ronkainen tests her oxygen mask and communications equipment before the day's flight. (Rob Verger /)

B is for bomber

Currently, the military owns 20 B-2s, 62 B-1s (that number may decrease to 45 next year), and 76 B-52s. That makes the BUFF, with its long, swept-back wings and narrow body, the most abundant.

Ray also notes that there’s more than one way to measure a plane’s age. “When you look at the life remaining in the air frame, the B-52 is the youngest,” he says.

A crew member enters the aircraft through the hatch in its belly. (Rob Verger /)

Sending a message

Russia performs similar operations with their fleet. Just this month, NORAD reported that that country flew bombers within 37 miles of Alaska.

Clint "Silver" Scott in the cockpit before the day's flight. (Rob Verger /)

Wheels down

dailymotion

For more photos from inside and around the aircraft, click here or swipe through the gallery, below.

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brookana0311 · 4 years

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After the plane touched down in Boston I was completely elated. I kept looking at the itinerary that I made for myself on the plane and was ready to embark on my new adventure. After gathering my luggage and walking for what seemed like fourteen miles to the rideshare pick up lot, I met with a lovely man who just so happened to be my Lyft driver. On the way to Salem from Boston, he showed me awesome looking buildings with such enthusiasm, and it gave me reassurance that I made the right choice with choosing Salem for my first solo trip.

I was staying in downtown Salem, and boy was it different than what I had been expecting. It was small. Like incredibly small. There was one section of the town where my hotel was that had older cobblestone, so the only vehicles that were allowed to drive on it were delivery vehicles. As a first impression, Salem left me in awe. The town seemed quaint and adorable, which was shocking to me due to the morbid history that took place on its very land. There was a cemetery that was a two-minute walk from my hotel, museums galore, and homes that were centuries old. There were shops and small restaurants everywhere, and they were incredibly enticing. I was so excited to start exploring and to learn as much as I could possibly learn about the place that I had always wanted to visit.

My hotel, Hotel Salem, was hands down the best hotel that I have ever stayed at. I saw the same people basically every day and had pleasant conversations with one person in particular. Everyone was so friendly and welcoming, and the hotel was GORGEOUS. I checked in early, and my room had just been cleaned and set up for my arrival, so the door was sitting open waiting for me to occupy what was inside. When I saw my room my jaw literally unhinged itself and involuntarily opened. I stood there, in shock and in amazement at how perfect the room was. I actually left my room just to make sure that I was in the correct spot, and to my excitement, I was. When I travel, which is rare might I add, I usually stay in Holiday Inns or places like that. So I was expecting the same old same old with my hotel, but what I got was so much better than anywhere I have ever stayed. The ceilings were tall. I am not great with measuring heights and whatnot, but I would estimate probably like twenty-five-foot ceilings. I had a king-sized bed with multiple pillows, (which I got extra excited about because I was going to have that all to myself) and I immediately wanted to curl up in it and take a happiness nap. My bathroom was probably the most beautiful bathroom that I have ever seen. There was this stunning dark blue tile on the walls and in the shower, which I immediately told my husband I wanted for our bathroom. The tub was huge and it looked like I could easily unwind in it, and the shower was pure magic. The shower was huge, and every day after exploring I would just hibernate in the shower for a bit to unwind. That hotel made me comfortable and relaxed, and I will stay there every time I go back to Salem. Oh! And I simply can’t forget to mention that my room had an interesting little bonus feature to it. I am pretty convinced that a spirit lingers there. One of my dresser drawers kept opening as if my little friend kept trying to prank me. One night it kept opening and every time I would turn my back after closing it would open right back up. I was (am) still so convinced that it was a spirit that I set up my phone on video to try to catch it in action, but I think my spirit was too smart to be caught. Sneaky little bastard.

Anyways, after seeing my room I was exhausted from not sleeping the night before and from traveling, so I simply ordered some lunch and took a much needed two-hour nap in my ginormous comfy bed that I could actually sleep on diagonally. It was a spiritual experience having that kind of restful slumber. When I awoke from my nap I was so out of it that I had to remind myself where I was. I got up, splashed my face with some water to help wake me up more, and then I grabbed my jacket to go explore my temporary home.

I feel like I started exploring at the perfect time. It was chilly, but not too chilly. And the sun was starting to go down. As I mentioned before, there was a cemetery that was about a two-minute walk from my hotel room. So I decided to make my way towards that spot. When I arrived at the cemetery I was shocked that it was actually one of the places that I wanted to explore. I was at Old Burying Point Cemetery, which is the oldest cemetery in Salem. It was beautiful. It was a lot smaller than I was expecting, but man it still took my breath away. The gravestones were incredibly old, and just seeing them was very humbling. You know I am not oblivious to the fact that one day I will die just like everyone else, but even with that knowledge there still is that sense of invincibility. I know that I will die, but it is still hard to process that. But seeing all of these graves, all of these people whose ages ranged from a year old to people well in their eighties, it reminds you of the fragility of life. The cemetery was the most peaceful spot in Salem in my opinion, and I could easily spend hours there. But the sun was almost completely set and everything was starting to shut down, so I headed back to my hotel for some rest.

I actually went back to Old Burying Point multiple times during my time in Salem because of the peace that I felt almost became addictive. I loved looking at each gravestone and paying my respects to the people who are there. I felt such a magnetic energy pulling me to Old Burying Point, almost as if the spirits of the people that were residing there were trying to keep me there to tell me something. Call me crazy, but I do believe that spirits are a real thing. And I think that when we die, we learn everything that there is to learn about the universe and about life. Every single secret becomes common knowledge, and I think the people on the other side are screaming at us to listen to them. They want us to know these secrets, and maybe we just aren’t listening. Anyways, now that you guys know that I am crazy, (hi, I’m Brookana) Old Burying Point is as breathtaking and beautiful as they come. It is hands down my most favorite part of Salem.

Luckily, adjacent to Old Burying Point was the Salem Witch Trials Memorial. This particular memorial was for the victims of the witch trials, and it was truly moving. The memorial had large stones with each of the victim’s names engraved onto them, and it seemed as if that was Salem’s way of trying to apologize to each of the people that they executed. Some of the stones even had flowers on them, which I found beautiful. It is important to remember that despite how fascinating the history of the trials is, there were still innocent lives that were taken and we should always remember who they were. I visited the memorial three times while I was in Salem, and each time I felt a tremendous amount of sorrow for the souls whose lives were stolen from them.

Another great memorial that I visited was Proctor’s Ledge, which was where the victims of the witch trials were hung. I found this memorial even more moving than the Salem Witch Trials Memorial. I felt as if I could feel this heaviness to me. I was grieving the loss of these innocent people, people who lived many centuries before me. I can’t imagine the fear and the agony that they felt, and the pain that their families felt when they were taken away from them. When I learned about the witch trials back in middle school they never really talked about the humanity behind the victims that were executed. They never talked about the repercussions that the families had to face or the torment that the victims had experienced. But seeing the place where the majority of the victims took their final breath is an indescribable feeling. It is a chilling feeling. A feeling of pure terror and disgust. And it makes you respect the trials even more because of the people who had their lives wrongfully stolen from them.

I also paid a visit to the Salem Witch Museum. This was a cute little museum that consisted of two exhibits, and I feel like I definitely learned a lot about how the trials had begun and the hysteria behind it all. The first exhibit was basically the story of the trials told over a loudspeaker and the second exhibit talked about the history of witchcraft. It was a very interesting experience, and I am happy that I went.

Past six o’clock at night there isn’t really much to do in Salem since all of the shops pretty much close down, so I decided to embark on a walking tour through Salem Night Tour. The tour meeting spot was a shock to me. We met at a store that sold Harry Potter merchandise, and I knew that I was about to have a wonderful evening. I even purchased my very first wand. The tour was a lot of fun. I was in a smaller group, which I loved because it gave me an opportunity to ask the tour guide questions when one would arise. They were very knowledgeable about Salem’s past, and I found myself to be intrigued throughout the entire tour. We walked by where the prison used to be during the trials, we walked by Salems Town Hall where the movie “Hocus Pocus” had filmed a scene, we walked past Old Burying Point, and we walked by the house that the board game “Clue” was based on. The stories that the guide told us were equal parts scary, horrifying, and enthralling, and despite the chilly weather, I had such a great time gaining more knowledge on Salem’s past.

The Witch House. There is not enough time to discuss how much I loved Witch House. The Witch House is a home that was owned by Jonathan Corwin, who just so happened to be a judge during the trials. I was told that eighty percent of that house is original, and I could feel that that was true. I did a self-guided tour throughout the home, where I was fortunate enough to see many pieces of furniture that are dated back centuries. Throughout the home were various papers that had intriguing facts about how people lived back in the 1600-1700s, and it was totally captivating. There was something about the house that had a similar magnetic energy to the energy that I felt at Old Burying Point. I felt oddly comfortable in that house. Like I never wanted to leave. It felt peaceful and welcoming, and like a place where I could learn so much. It was one of those places where you could feel the history, and it just made me feel like I went back in time and experienced what it was like living in that house back then. But it wasn’t just the history that made me feel like I never wanted to leave. There was the sweetest woman who worked there that was incredibly knowledgeable about not just Witch House, but Salem as a whole. I definitely monopolized her time for upwards of forty minutes, just asking her questions about the home and about Salem. She answered every question that I had and was eager to share the history of Salem with me. She even showed me markings around the house that left me in awe. There were builders marks and marks of protection etched into the walls and ceilings of the house, and it made me feel as if I found a time machine and when back to the 1600s when the house was built. I was fascinated, and the house still has me fascinated to this very day. I would say that Witch House is my second favorite place to visit in Salem. There is so much to learn about the trials and about that time period, and the house helps you understand the history so much more.

A fun little activity that I decided to do was get another tattoo. There was a tattoo shop that was about a minute walk from my hotel called Witch City Ink, so to commemorate my first solo trip, which happens to be my most favorite trip that I have ever been on, I got a witch hat with a couple of sprigs. The shop was incredible, and my artist was so talented, and I constantly catch myself staring in awe at my newest addition.

There are a ton of really adorable shops in downtown Salem, but my favorite shop hands down has got to be Emporium 32. They have a fantastic collection of oddities and just cool items that range from books, art, alcohol cups, absinthe spoons, jewelry, and hats. Everything was so unique and breathtaking, and I spent more money than I would like to admit at that store. My wallet is going to be in trouble for when we buy our house because I found out that they ship artwork and I plan on utilizing that convenience

There is so much to see, do and learn in Salem. Everything about Salem is so special to me. I loved the feeling that I felt in Old Burying Point and Witch House where I felt like I could feel the history. I loved learning about everything that happened there and why everything happened. Even though downtown Salem was adorable and beautiful, the history of the land is unscathed, and that morbid feeling that you get from that pain and suffering also turns into appreciation and gratitude for the generations that have lived before you. It truly is a magical town filled with magical curiosities.

Salem: Part Two After the plane touched down in Boston I was completely elated. I kept looking at the itinerary that I made for myself on the plane and was ready to embark on my new adventure.

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jacewilliams1 · 4 years

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Ten things I know about flying in Massachusetts

If you have an airplane, Massachusetts is a tiny little state. Depending on what you’re flying, it’ll take less than 90 minutes to fly the 164 nm between Nantucket (ACK) and North Adams (AQW) – the longest intra-state flight. That’s what it seems to take some nights driving home from downtown Boston.

It’s New England so we get our share of weather from snow to thunderstorms, but things tend to blow through quickly and the vast majority of the 60+ days I flew here last year were VMC. If I had to pick one season as my favorite, I would definitely select fall. Other than occasional frost on the wings in the early morning, conditions are generally perfect for flying. And watching the foliage change from the air is a sight to see. Here are 10 other things to do while flying in my adopted state of Massachusetts.

1. Cape Cod

Starting from anywhere in the Boston area, head out over Provincetown, then down along the eastern shoreline to take in spectacular views of Cape Cod – a uniquely shaped sand bar that is visible from space and instantly recognizable on any map. You’ll see Cape Cod Bay, Nantucket, Martha’s Vineyard, and the Cape Cod Canal. Seals sunning on the beach are a common sight and you might even find a whale or two in the open water (look for the whale watching boats).

Be aware that most of Cape Cod appears on the charts with blue dots designating it as a wildlife/wilderness/National Park area so – per the FAA’s AIM – pilots are requested to fly at least 2,000 feet overhead. Along the way, stop for a meal at ACK, MVY, or Chatham (CQX). If you have more time, land at the New Bedford Airport (EWB) and head over to the New England Whaling Museum (less than 5 miles from the airport). Afterwards, catch a meal at the Moby Dick Brewing Company (located at the museum).

2. Katama Airpark on MVY

Katama Airpark is a throwback.

A visit to Katama Airpark (1B2) should be on every pilot’s bucket list. This airport on the eastern edge of Martha’s Vineyard is a throwback to an earlier era with three excellent turf runways, one 3,700 feet long. There is a small breakfast/lunch cafe on the field (but no fuel). One of the best parts is that the airport has a second parking area right next to the shoreline so you can taxi out, hit the beach, and then fly home. Located just outside the MVY Class D airspace, be on the lookout for scenic flights along the shoreline. There is a $10 landing fee plus $15 to park at the beach. For an unforgettable day, combine this with the Cape Cod scenic route.

3. City tour

While not quite the VFR Corridor next to New York City, Boston Approach will allow a scenic flight that takes you over the Charles River at 1,500 feet and affords amazing views of downtown, the Prudential Center, Fenway Park, MIT, Cambridge, and Harvard. Known to ATC as “The City Tour,” this will only be approved if Boston Logan (BOS) is landing north/south, but you’ll likely have the airspace to yourself and won’t have to keep your head on a swivel like the NYC VFR corridor.

The protocol is to contact Boston Approach (124.4) outside the Class Bravo in the vicinity of the Intersection of Rt 128 (I-95) and the Mass Pike with “Request transit Class Bravo for City Tour, Charles River to Back Bay, then return westbound.” You then follow the Charles River/Pike eastbound until you get to the Charles River basin. You might be instructed to cut things short and make a 180-degree turn at the BU or Mass Ave Bridges so it’s critical to be able to recognize landmarks. For first timers, this is best done with someone who has local knowledge.

4. Military activity

Massachusetts lost many military facilities during the base closing exercise but still has several reserve units. Westover Airport (CEF) is home to the Westover Air Reserve Base while Barnes Airport (BAF), just eight miles to the west, hosts the Massachusetts Air National Guard.

Both Barnes and Westover are now mixed uses. Although there are no guarantees, I frequently see F-15s at Barnes when eating at SOK’S Runway Cafe, which overlooks the field. And on a recent visit to Westover, I witnessed the amazing sight of a C-5B Galaxy transport doing touch and gos on the 10,000+ foot runway.

5. Curious Navaids

Back in the day, some FAA planner must have been a Three Stooges fan as my home airport of Norwood (OWD) has both STOGE and CURLI intersections (I am not sure what happened to Shemp or Moe). The Cape has a Marconi VOR (LFV) named for Guglielmo Marconi and placed near the site of the first transcontinental radio communication between America and Europe in 1903. Of course, there are departures from Boston Logan that feature waypoints named for all five of our sports teams – BRUWN, CELTK, SSOXS, PATSS, and REVSS. And I just love hearing a controller with a strong Boston Accent clear someone direct to the nearby MNSTA or LBSTA waypoints.

6. Boston Logan (BOS)

Logan Airport packs a lot of runway into a tight spot.

I’ve flown into Logan dozen of times on Angel Flights. The controllers are very helpful and accommodating, but it’s busy airspace so you need to be on your game. Expect to be asked to keep your speed up until five miles out. If the weather allows visual approaches, they may be landing on parallel runways. Be aware that, due to the proximity of the runways, you must confirm that you see traffic landing on the parallel and acknowledge that you will maintain visual separation. The fees are quite high so best to do on a charity flight, which gets the fees waived. Like all busy airports, study the diagram to identify the Signature’s FBO location before you land and switch over to ground immediately after being instructed by the tower.

7. Shortest runway of any Class B airport

Boston has two sets of parallel runways. The 4/22 runways (R & L) are used the vast majority of the time due to the prevailing north/south winds – and even if there is a slight crosswind. But when the wind blows strong east/west, they start landing the big boys on the 10,083-foot 15R/33L. And for the rest of us, we’re assigned the 2,557 foot 15L/33R. Used strictly for visual approaches by smaller aircraft (with instructions to jog out the approach so you won’t overfly planes departing on runway 27,) the length might scare you off but since 15/33 is only used when the winds are strong you should have no trouble sticking it!

In preparing this writeup, I studied the taxi diagrams for all 37 Class B airports and the only other Class B runway shorter than 5,000 feet is Salt Lake City’s (SLC) runway 14/32 at 4,893.

8. Restricted airspace

The good news is that – other than Boston’s Class Bravo – there simply isn’t much! Just to the west of Boston is a tiny area that is primarily active on Saturdays for weekend activity of the Massachusetts National Guard. To the east of Boston on Cape Cod is the Otis Air National Guard base with a small area that is restricted seven days a week. Enclosed within that airspace is the Pave Paws Radar – a Cold War-era early detection system where flight below 4,500 feet is not permitted even if the area is cold. And although it is not restricted airspace, to the south of Marth’s Vineyard is the appropriately named Nomans Land, an island that was used by the US Navy from 1943 to 1996 for aerial target practice. After a cleanup in 1998, the island was turned over to the US Fish & Wildlife Department as a wildlife refuge but access to the island is still prohibited – after 43 years of bombing practice, there’s sure to be ordinance left behind, although the birds don’t seem to mind at all.

9. Airport restaurants

On-field restaurants come and go. In preparing this write-up, I verified that the following is accurate as of November 2019 and even found several restaurants that I did not know about so I have a few more destinations for my $100 hamburgers. (B=breakfast, L=Lunch, and D=Dinner). All are open 7 days a week except where noted.

Barnes – BAF (LD x 5, B x 1)

Chatham – CQX (BL x 5)

Hopedale – 1B6 (LD)

Katama – 1B2 (BL-Seasonal)

Lawrence – LWM (BL)

Mansfield 1B9 – (BL)

Martha’s Vineyard – MVY (BLD)

Nantucket – ACK (BLD)

New Bedford – EWB (LD)

Norwood – OWD – (LD x 6)

Orange – ORE (BL x 6)

Plymouth – PYM (BL)

Southbridge – 3B0 – (BL x 3, BLD x 2)

Stow / Minute Man – 6B6 (BL x 3, BLD x 2)

Marlboro is gone, but not forgotten.

10. Marlboro Airport (9B1)

An oldies DJ used to say, “Gone from the charts but not from our hearts, let’s hear it for the platters that matter.” I could say the same thing about the recently closed Marlboro Airport which – until last year – was the oldest continually operated airport in Massachusetts (opening one year before Boston Logan). When I evaluated where to begin my pilot training in 1988, the two closest options were the super-busy Hanscom Field in Bedford (BED) or little ole’ Marlboro. And I do mean little as the uncontrolled field had a single runway just 1,659 feet long. Not only that, but one runway had the proverbial 80-foot tree off the end while the other had a 4-foot chain link fence next to a busy road (look out for the passing box truck). What my training lacked in radio communications, it more than compensated with short field technique, as every flight required you to nail either the climbout or the approach in order to miss that tree (there were actually two large trees and you aimed for the V in between).

I eventually got my private pilot license flying out of Marlboro but soon went into a partnership at another airport and only came back once, many years later, to prove that I still had “what it takes” to get into a 1,659-foot field. But over the years, fewer and fewer people followed my path to Marlboro for flying lessons and once the flight school closed the die was cast. Like the family ski area, the economics no longer seems to work for sleepy little airports but while Marlboro will soon be marked with an X on the charts, it will always have a place in my heart.

This is another entry in our “What I know about flying in…” series. If you’d like to write about your home state or country, email us: [email protected]

The post Ten things I know about flying in Massachusetts appeared first on Air Facts Journal.

from Engineering Blog https://airfactsjournal.com/2019/11/ten-things-i-know-about-flying-in-massachusetts/

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rachelisnotatwork · 6 years

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Week 5: the one in which we meet all of Australia’s creepiest creatures (and some cute ones)

The site we’d been smoked out of is just one of two sites in Kakadu that are famous for rock paintings. We decided to head out to the next one the next day. It was extremely muggy when we got up in the morning with thick cloud and constant rumbling thunder. Apparently these dry thunderstorms are incredibly common at this time of year; they promise rain that never comes and start bush fires. We came across one of these burning by the side of the road just as we came out of town. It was pretty small (hence we drove past it) but even passing it at 100kmph you got an incredible wave of heat off it.

We decided to drop into the visitors centre to learn something more about the area/enjoy some air-con before seeing the rock paintings. It was alas not air-conned. We thus poured sweat and steamed away in the 40c heat whilst learning about frogs etc.

By the time we arrived at the first site there was a bit of a breeze. This was pleasant. The rock art was pleasant. We walked to the second site. Just as we stepped under the rock awnings to the sheltered spot where ancient people had sheltered from thunderstorms and doodled on the walls, teeming rain began. And continued. Apparently the weather hadn’t got the memo it was still supposed to be the dry season. We assumed it would last a couple of minutes. It did not. 20 minutes later, us and a very wet tour group were still in there.

Eventually we made a dash for the car. We were booked into a sunset river cruise about 60km away so our hope was we’d drive out of the weather. Which we did. By the time we arrived at the yellow water cruise site, the weather was cloudy but there was no rain. This lasted about ten minutes after we set off, after which the heavens opened with thunder and lightening. And the rain was cold. And furious. We were in a little aluminium boat (having just received a safety briefing involving having no limbs over the side at all unless we wanted crocodiles to pull us under) with open sides. Our tour operator, who was driving the boat, said he was just going to “stick near the trees to protect us from lightening”. This was a strategy I was not sure was based in science at all. Also if we weren’t struck my lightening, having a boat capsized because a tree has been struck and fallen onto the boat, is what I would describe as suboptimal in a river packed full of saltwater crocodiles.

And we did see a LOT of those. Hanging out, fighting, trying to catch fish from our bow waves. It was pretty horrifying. Bit like being in Jurassic Park- since as nature’s perfect killing machines, they haven’t needed to evolve since then. We did also see water buffalo, cows and brumbies, but some huge bird thing, and eventually the rain stopped. Plus we didn’t get struck by lightening and no one got dragged overboard by a crocodile, so that’s a win.

The next day was thankfully more sunny. We were heading back to Katherine, because we’d not yet had a chance to visit Katherine Gorge, which is the big “must see” of the area. However on the way there was another beautiful swimming spot to visit- Edith Falls. Marcel suggested we could either read and swim or swim and go for a hike. Since it was, as usual for sunny days, about 38c and I could see the hike and it was full of climbing giant rocky hills, I told him he could go for a hike and I’d stick around and swim and read. He considered the hike but the swimming hole really was delightful and in the end he stuck with me.

The pool had a warning sign saying the waterfall at the back of it was 150m away and to swim within your ability. Apparently everyone who visited Edith Springs (all 7-8 of them) had a very low impression of their abilities (perhaps having had a similar riptide experience to me) so they all stuck within about 3m of the steps down into the lake. We swum over to the waterfall and had the whole place to ourselves, all afternoon, which was rather delightful. We alternated between swimming and reading and enjoying a ridiculously beautiful spot that was nearly empty.

We awoke the next morning to the sounds of a thunderstorm. Which again shouldn’t have been happening and was also a little dispiriting as our afternoon plan was 4 hours of kayaking. An activity that is distinctly less enjoyable in teeming rain. However we decided to see how things played out. Our first planned activity of the day was a trip to Cutta-Cutta Caves, which is a series of caves near Katherine that Marcel mostly wanted to visit as they apparently have a lot of snakes. This he did not tell me when he booked us onto it. I was somewhat unkeen to enter the caves most caves flood in the rain and I didn’t want a repeat of the Thai football team, only in a cave jam-packed with snakes. However by the time we’d arrived the rain had stopped and our guide promised us that the only snakes in the caves most days were tree snakes and “they are only mildly venomous so if you get bitten you just have to chill out for a couple of hours with a beer”. Probably this just meant your leg would fall off. Mild by Australian venom standards.

We were the only people on the cave tour. It was thankfully very dry, unfortunately not cold (not deep enough) and we did see some tree snakes. One of them was doing a great impression of a stalactite. They apparently hang out on the walls and eat bats as they fly in and out the cave.

After that we set off for the gorges. By this time, the sun was out and it was boiling hot again. This was in some respects great (good for kayaking) but in other respects suboptimal, as you aren’t supposed to “pollute” the freshwater with suncream. So I had decided to put on my burkini. Which is fine but to get to the gorges where you can kayak, you have to take a boat trip through the first gorge because it could potentially have crocodiles. So we had to walk 500m down to the dock and then sit on a boat for 15 minutes. Swaddled in neck-to-foot black swimwear, I was concerned I was going to die of heat stroke before reaching the kayak.

We grabbed our double kayak (he tried to give us two solo ones but screw paddling for myself) and paddled to the nearest marked beach for a swim (some of the gorge beaches are designated for the freshwater crocodiles to lay their eggs). Swimming having just cooked in my suit for that long felt amazing. We had an amazing afternoon of paddling, swimming, paddling, picnicking and swimming. There was only one other pair out in kayaks and we only saw them once all afternoon so it felt like we were pretty much the only people in the gorge system. It was amazing.

This was at least gave us some nice memories to revel in during the next day. In which we drove for hours and hours and hours to get to Tenant Creek, a town that is generally described as a shithole. It wasn’t particularly obviously awful, but the only recommended activity in town was to visit the local lake “recreational park”. Being big on swimming and finally being out of crocodile territory we grabbed our swimsuits and headed out there. To find at this time of year it is a muddy waterhole, surrounded by an all-male collection of peacocks, guinea fowl, geese and about a million ants that immediately tried to eat our feet. We did not stay for long.

The next day we drove on down to Alice Springs, via the Devil’s Marbles (a bunch of large, roundish rocks) which we found underwhelming (although full of interesting frog facts).

We set off quite early because we’d booked onto a kangaroo tour that only runs in the evenings on the week days and so we had to make the Friday night trip out to the sanctuary. The sanctuary there is run by a guy who has spent years saving orphaned baby kangaroos (second to their general idiocy as adults when it comes to cars). He had a BBC TV programme made about him because clearly nothing ticks the British boxes like slightly handsome man and adorable baby animals.

The tour was fantastic though, because he always has a bunch of orphaned kangaroos on the go, so you spend the tour holding baby kangaroos and feeding them whilst he shows you the sanctuary. It was amazing and about level 10 Australian on the scale of experiences.

Just as soon as we’d left it started teeming with rain and a thunderstorm began. We dashed back to our airbnb to discover the rain had brought out….a fucking giant spider. Like the size of your nightmares. I immediately requested Marcel killed it. He refused as thought it might be dangerous...so thought it would be safer to catch and release. I suggested it was his funeral but I would stand on the other side of the room and watch. One terrifying spider released.

We sat down at the table and tried to relax. Google suggested it was a harmless Huntsman spider. We decided whatever it was we were glad it was gone, only to notice sitting on the picture frame right by the table was ANOTHER FUCKING MASSIVE ONE. Catch and release repeated again. Then I made Marcel pretty much crawl around the airbnb with a torch before I would sit down on any surface.

The next day we decided we’d have a lazy day in town. It was a cool 29c, which felt amazing. We wandered into the free aviation museum to see the wreck of the Kookaburra- a plane that was scrambled to rescue the plane that crashed on the mudflats of Wyndham (the ones I talked about a few years ago where they drank coffee and rum cocktails until they were rescued) and crashed killing the rescuers. I was mostly just curious to see how tiny a 1920s plane was. So tiny. So fragile.

After that we went to the Desert Animal Park, which was basically a zoo of local creatures. Given I’ve never seen a Quoll, dingo, weird thorny devil lizard thing, it was pretty exciting. Also they had a bird show featuring a magpie that called out on command etc. A pleasantly relaxing afternoon was had by all.

When we got back home though, relaxation time was over fairly immediately as we came back to find one of the giant spiders wanted back in and was hanging out on the screen door.

Marcel chased it under the house with a broom and we spent the evening with our legs drawn up on the sofa, watching movies and feeling very twitchy glaring at the shadows.

On Sunday, we decided to head out of town for a swim. We went out to a place called Ellery Creek Big Hole. For the last few weeks all of our swims had been in gloriously warm waters. However around Alice Springs it gets cold at night, and the water in the Big Hole was deep and very very cold. It was hot enough that it made swimming pleasant, but the cold was quite shocking. We spent the afternoon alternating between swimming and warming up on the sand around the pool.

And so concluded week 5. Warm swims left behind us, but still plenty of adventures ahead!

Ways I’ve thought I might die in Australia this week: caught in a wildfire, drowned in a flash flood when rain came in epic proportions, struck by lightening, eaten by a crocodile after the boat was sunk by a tree that had been hit by lightening, overly keen crocodile grabbing one of my limbs that was too close to the side of the boat and dragging me under, drowned in a flash-flooded cave, killed by a not particularly venomous tree snake because I’m weak, of heat stroke in my burkini, death by spider bite, death by heart attack having imagined a giant spider just crawled over my foot, cold immersion syndrome from swimming in cold water after getting used to bathing in essentially bathwater temperatures

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passionate-baker · 6 years

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A Wander Guide: Barcelona, Spain

Barcelona. My sister’s favourite place in Europe. A city in which I’d only spent a few fatigued days after finishing the Camino many years ago, and somewhere my mother had never visited. We allotted four days, just long enough to wander around aimlessly & fall for the city’s charms. We booked seats beside each other on the airplane & a triple room in a fancy hotel. Our plan was simple -- to indulge, while also having quality time. We filled our weekend to the brim with food, drinks, napping, more food, coffee, & an unbelievable amount of laughter.

After the jump there are heaps of recommendations on everything I think you’d enjoy in the city.

Happy travelling!

Stay

Hotel Petit Palace Boqueria Garden Barcelona // thinking back on it now, we must have gotten very lucky with our hotel booking. 30 second walk off La Rambla, this is one of the nicest hotels I’ve stayed at in my whole life. The house scent - which you can actually buy a bottle of - set us at ease from the moment we set foot in the building, which is simply gorgeous. Great room, lovely staff, fantastic location, & an outdoor bar housed in an old courtyard (where we sampled many a cocktail, obviously).

Picasso Museum // miraculously, there was no queue whatsoever when we rocked up at the jaw-droppingly beautiful buildings housing the museum; we were able to waltz right in & leisurely look through the museum without having to fight with others for viewing space. The focus was mostly on the early works of Picasso, which was rather a nice change, as I recognized hardly any of the pieces. Added bonus: during our visit, there was a small restoration team carrying out work on a large Picasso I’d never seen before - ‘At the Sick Woman’s Side’ - which was endlessly fascinating to watch.

Aquarium Barcelona // call me childish, but I love a good aquarium. I could spend hours watching all the different species swimming around in circles, they’re so calming. I’d wanted to hit up the aquarium in Barcelona for one specific reason: they have an underwater tunnel in which the sharks & what-have-you can swim right over your head. All of my childhood dreams come true... at 25 years old.

Horta Gardens + Labyrinth // yes, you have to take a train out of the city to visit Horta, but it is so so worth it - this was one of my favourite stops on our whole trip. Very inexpensive to visit (like, €2 or €3), these are some of the most beautiful gardens I’ve ever had the pleasure to explore; so peaceful & quiet, away from the throngs of people walking every which direction back in the city. Real talk: the main reason we headed out to Horta was for the labyrinth, because although we are three fully grown ladies we enjoy a labyrinth as much as the next kid does #sorrynotsorry. Pro tip: after exploring the gardens & getting lost in the labyrinth for a few hours, we headed to the nearby Hotel Alimara for a glass of rosé in their beautiful courtyard - just what we needed after a few hours in the sunshine.

Montjuic Cable Car // now, I don’t know about your mother, but our mother is easily terrified. Planes, trains, elevators, strangers, swinging cable cars hanging high above the city, you know. We somehow convinced her the cable car would be fun, and all three of us cried the whole way to the top (two with hysterical laughter, one with sheer fear). Jokes aside, it was one of the very best moments of our trip, with fantastic views all over the city. PS we didn’t bother going into the castle, but there’s a nice area at the top of the hill for walking around.

Sagrada Familia // admittedly, we were unable to get tickets to see inside the cathedral (they sell a set amount each day), but even without going inside it is 100% worth visiting the outside. Nothing quite prepares you for the sheer vastness of the building, which is like something out of a dream. My mother couldn’t quite believe her eyes.

360 view @ Las Arenas de Barcelona // truth be told, we stumbled across this entirely by accident. Upon investigation, we learned that it was only €1 to go up, so we literally couldn’t not. Perfect viewing platform. with some nice bars & restaurants up top.

Eat - Breakfast / Brunch

Federal Cafe // before even being seated, I really really liked the feel of Federal Cafe. It’s all light and airy, & I felt at ease from the moment we stepped through the door. I had a fabulous small skillet dish with baked eggs, sage roasted potatoes, bacon and creme fraiche, which I would definitely order again. There also was a super delicious feta, caramelized onion + rocket bruschetta situation that we loved!

Citizen Cafe // a TripAdvisor find. A very cute, very cozy cafe. Think rustic-chic: books everywhere, fairy lights, long communal tables, exposed brick, wood furnishings etc, you get the picture. The coffee was great, the freshly squeezed orange juice was fantastic, and the food was okay. I went for the blueberry pancakes, & each pancake had just one blueberry inside. Perhaps I just chose wrong, but one blueberry is obviously no where near enough.

Caravelle // hands down, the best brunch we had in Barcelona. The whole experience from beginning to end was faultless. It all started on a brilliant note when we were seated at a spacious table smack bam in the middle of the buzzy cafe by a waitress so cool that we all wanted to be her. Pro tip: I couldn’t recommend the pulled pork eggs Benedict enough -- it was insanely delicious, melt-in-your-mouth perfection. If eggs benny ain’t your thing - the Caravelle huevos rancheros were also to die for. We’d all go back in a heartbeat!

Milk Bar + Bistro // this was our last brunch place of the trip, and honestly I’d kind of already written it off in my head because I didn’t think it would come anywhere near to the amazing meal I had in Caravelle. I was wrong. Milk Bar + Bistro do an inventive ‘Recovery Brunch’ menu, & what I had - a chorizo hash little number - was on a par with the previous morning. Eggs, potatoes, chorizo, cheese, and some hidden spinach that you don’t even notice you’re eating. How perfect does that sound? Pro tip: get there early; we managed to snag a table when we got in, but we heard the staff letting others know there was an hour’s wait shortly after we arrived.

Eat - Tapas / Dinner / Snacks

Viana // without a doubt, the best meal we had in Barcelona. We booked a table two days in advance and still only managed to snag a seat for 10 pm, which just shows how fantastic the place is. For my main I had a beef cheek with sweet potato puree dish, which basically had me groaning right there at the table. It was unbelievably tender & delicious & I almost cried with happiness at how perfect everything was. Our lovely waiter - who was actually Polish but, bizarrely, had lived in our little town here in Dublin for 8 years (what are the odds?) - made the whole experience one to remember. He conjured up cocktails that weren’t on the menu, treated us to several samples of exotic drinks, & after chatting away all night long, gifted us a bottle of the most delicious Crema de Orujo to bring home to Ireland. Perfection.

La Alcoba Azul // a tiny little restaurant crammed into the Gothic Quarter, character oozing out onto the street. Small tables and exposed brick walls lit by candlelight alone. My memory of that night is kind of hazy, but I do remember that we had a killer meat & cheese platter, as well as some ever-delicious pan con tomate, and a couple of the various tostas on offer. Everything was devoured.

Bar Lobo // located conveniently close to our hotel, we took to Bar Lobo one late afternoon for snacks. The space is fantastic - bright & airy, high ceilings, comfortable seating. We chose a random selection of things off the menu - bravas, pan con tomate, nachos, chicken wings - all of which were perfect, but all were outshone by an utterly delicious melt-in-your-mouth tandoori chicken tapa. Needless to say, we stayed for seconds.

Taco Alto // sometimes you just need a taco, simple as. This adorable little taco joint is quite near to the Arc de Triomphe (& also to the Motel One where we stopped for rooftop Aperol Spritzs!) & has a great variety. We tried out a whole variety of things: one chicken & one pork taco (the pork stole the show), the nachos topped with beef, a quesadilla of some sort, & a frozen margarita + some Mexican beers we’d never heard of. Everything was ahhh-mazing.

Chok The Chocolate Kitchen // a very very good doughnut display enticed us in & convinced us to buy some to bring back to the hotel room. They were so good that we went back again.

Drink - Alcohol

Roof terrace @ Motel One // after mine & Boyfriend’s successful stays at the Motel One in both Bremen and Vienna, this was my first choice of hotel for Barcelona. Unfortunately, they didn’t have a room for three adults, so instead I had to make do with a visit to their rooftop bar. Friends, I cannot recommend it enough. We spent the whole afternoon lounging on one of the many bouncy outdoor couches, surveying the views beneath us, drinking Aperol Spritzes to our heart’s content. That rooftop was my happy place.

Schilling // a lucky find. It was one of those nights when we’d already had a few drinks & were on our way to the hotel for the night, when suddenly we walked past Schilling & unanimously decided bed could wait a little longer. The place seemed so classy & elegant somehow - we fell for its charm. All three of us opted for cocktails - an old fashioned for me, an espresso martini for my mother, & a long cocktail of sorts for my adventurous little sister - and each one was mixed to perfection. Pro tip: the hummus tapa is delicious! I was skeptical - hummus is hardly a Spanish specialty - but it was perfect; it came in a generous heap, with a pile of mince on top & plenty of pita on the side.

Roof terrace @ Zinc Bar // after experiencing the pure joy of visiting the Motel One roof terrace, we thought it only fair to give another one a try! Once again, we lounged on comfy couches in the sunshine, shaded by a well placed parasol, drinking until it was almost frowned upon.

#barcelona #spain #travel

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365footballorg-blog · 6 years

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'We weren't even allowed swap jerseys!' - when Shelbourne battled Barcelona at the Nou Camp

Shelbourne captain Theo Dunne (right) exchanges pennants with Barcelona captain Sígfrid Gracia.

A COFFIN STOOD stiff and isolated in the bowels of the Nou Camp as 11 Irishmen shuffled past in quiet disbelief.

On their way through the famous corridors on a mild October evening en route to the away dressing room, the cohort of Shelbourne players passed by a museum, a dentist, a morgue and, puzzlingly, the most idyllic of chapels inside of which sat a wooden box.

They were 1,300 miles away from Tolka Park, situated snug in-between endless rows of brick houses on Richmond Road in Drumcondra, but it felt so much more. This was a different planet altogether.

Gerry Doyle’s side had stormed to the 1963 FAI Cup 2-0 against Cork Hibernians, meaning they qualified for the first round of the European Cup Winners’ Cup the same year — a competition which, naturally, pitted all of Europe’s domestic cup winners against one another.

The hat pulled out Barcelona meaning ‘Doyle’s Ducklings’, as the young side still fresh-faced and raw were affectionately known, were heading to Catalonia.

Shelbourne pose for a photo before kick-off at the Nou Camp in October 1963. Source: Marc Gómez

This was a golden generation at Shelbourne Football Club and, until matched by the early 2000′s era of Wes Hoolahan, Owen Heary, Stuart Byrne, Joey N’do and Jason Byrne which took in five league titles, an FAI Cup and were one game away from qualifying for the group stages of the Champions League — they were undoubtedly the club’s brightest jewel.

The first sprouts of success came in winning the 1959 FAI Youth Cup with players like Eric Barber and future European Cup winner with Manchester United Tony Dunne. Youth was subsequently promoted and there followed two FAI Cups in 1960 and 1963, and a league title in 1961/62. Doyle’s magic touch was in full flow.

Domestic success felt almost routine and with it came the prospect of playing across the continent to face Europe’s elite. The club’s very first game in European competition saw them travel to Portugal, where they faced Sporting Lisbon in the old 50,000 seater Estádio de Alvalade in 1962, taking the lead in the away leg but ultimately succumbing 7-1 on aggregate.

The following year brought Barcelona. This time it wasn’t the European Cup, but the Cup Winners’ Cup.

Sitting arms stretched apart relaxing inside a swimming pool on top of their city centre hotel on a radiant October evening in the Catalonia capital, Shels defender Freddie Strahan couldn’t believe his luck.

Strahan was a tough-tackling centre half who helped the side to a litany of success and represented Ireland on numerous occasions, scoring against Bobby Moore’s England. A leader at the back “you would genuinely die for”, friend and former team-mate at Shelbourne Jackie Hennessy explains today.

Shelbourne pictured at Lisbon airport ahead of their European Cup meeting with Sporting in 1962.

The pair cannot stress how far away a European game in the Nou Camp was from the realities of League of Ireland football in the mid 1960s. Warm water in the showers after games was never a guarantee — in fact you were lucky if there was even a shower at all.

“They treated us great, they really did,” Hennessy, now 77, explains of their trip abroad. “The one thing that stood out to me was the fact they had that little chapel with an oratory and a confession box, I couldn’t get over it! It was unbelievable.

We were coming from a world where we’d be playing a game in Limerick down in the Market’s Field. After the match we’d hop onto the team bus and drive back to the nearest hotel so we could get a shower. There was no such thing as washing facilities at the stadium for us players in those days.

“Then you go to Barcelona and you see all these huge, immaculate changing rooms and lockers where you could hang up your gear, while we’re used to playing in Tolka Park where there’s 16 of us jammed into a tiny room 12 metre x 10 metre getting ready before and after matches.

“If you were lucky enough to get a shower the water was cold by the time you got to it, whereas in Barcelona we had these beautiful, elegant baths instead!”

It’s approaching the 55th anniversary since the famous set of games in the autumn of 1963. Only it’s not that well-known in these parts at all.

Barcelona visited Dublin for the first time in five decades to face Celtic at the Aviva Stadium in 2016, with little to no mention of when Shelbourne faced the five-times Champions League winners — firstly in Dalymount Park and then away in the Nou Camp — in the build-up to the pre-season friendly.

An evening in Dublin’s Sugar Club discussing the modern history of Spanish football saw the event come to light in recent weeks.

Great memories from Gerry Doyle Jr (son of manager), Freddie Strahan, Joe Wilson, Jackie Hennessy from the @shelsfc ’63 team that played against @FCBarcelona. #tsfppic.twitter.com/aQAag1EzLl

— Con Artist (@Con_Artistes) January 16, 2018

Strahan, Hennessy and teammate Joe Wilson sat on stage and waxed lyrical about their travels to an intrigued audience, the majority of whom were completely ignorant of the tie even taking place.

Wilson, who celebrated his 79th birthday last week, attests that to him and many of his team-mates these exotic European ties Shelbourne were getting used to in the 1960s were often an excuse to enjoy a holiday — they wouldn’t have gotten the chance to travel abroad otherwise.

In total Shels played 13 games in Europe between 1962 and 1965, taking on teams such as Belenenses, Barcelona and Atletico Madrid in the European Cup, the Cup Winners’ Cup and the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup.

“Freddie summed it up by saying it was a holiday”, he laughs.”We were realistic guys. We knew there was no way we were going to go over to Barcelona and beat them.

“Given the caliber of football at the time, we knew what our strengths and our weaknesses were. We knew what we could and couldn’t do. Now there was great camaraderie and friendship among the lads, so we knew we could put up a good show alright.

The whole idea when the draw in Europe took place was to keep in mind not to be beaten so bad that you were ashamed or embarrassed. From our point of view, when we were drawn against Barcelona it was a holiday for us in Spain.

“It was the same the year previous when we were drawn against Sporting Lisbon”, Wilson continues. “We knew we were getting a week in the sun in Portugal… brilliant, absolutely brilliant.

“So after that game in 1962 when we were on the plane home from Lisbon we all said ‘listen guys, we’re going to put it all in in the league this year, we’ll get back into European competition again and get another trip like this!’

Getting to see different parts of the world and getting to travel across Europe, that’s what was motivating us to win the League of Ireland and the FAI Cup. That Shelbourne team were in three FAI Cup finals, won two, won the league title as well and played in Europe — that wasn’t bad for a young side; Doyle’s Ducklings.”

Freddie Strahan (defender), Joe Wilson (inside forward), and Jackie Hennessy (inside left) all still socialise together today and recall with great fondness their European odyssey with precise detail and warm nostalgia.

A holiday it might have been for players who played football part-time and maintained full-time jobs all the while, but Hennessy maintains he saw it for what it was — two sides of equal respect facing off against one another.

Shelbourne were the FAI Cup holders and Barcelona the Copa del Rey winners, therefore they were on equal footing, he says. Both deserved their place in the European Cup Winners’ Cup and no level of history or reverence about the Nou Camp or the club that played inside it would allow Shelbourne to lift the pedal off the gas or doubt their ability to cause an upset.

“It was never a holiday”, Hennessy, who was a team-mate of John Giles at Manchester United, says firmly. “To me it was always a match. I loved my football from the time I was 9 years of age playing U15 with lads twice the size of me. I never lost that appetite for winning games.”

Shelbourne goalkeeper John Heavey saves a shot at the Nou Camp.

The 2-0 defeat in the first leg in Dalymount Park is still a bone of contention for him, as he still sees it as a game they could and perhaps should have won in Dublin if luck had gone their way in front of goal.

“I thought we were a bit unfortunate because we didn’t deserve to be beaten 2-0,” he says. “It wasn’t long gone in the first half when we should have scored and that would have put the cat among the pigeons.

It was just one of those days where we were unfortunate not to score. In Dalymount I thought we didn’t deserve to be beaten. I remember we defended well for long periods and we were always dangerous on the attack.”

Goals from Zaldúa and Pereda either side of half-time saw Barcelona come away with a two goal win under the floodlights in Phibsborough.

Caught in a period where rivals Real Madrid enjoyed historic success winning six European Cups in ten years between 1956 and 1966, the decade saw Barcelona resigned to second-best in Spain.

This despite claiming the 1960 La Liga title and 1963 Copa del Rey — the title which saw them fail to qualify for the European Cup and instead fall into the Cup Winners’ Cup to face Shelbourne.

Only it wasn’t even known as the Copa del Rey 55 years ago. When Barcelona beat Real Zaragoza 3-1 in front of 90,000 supporters at the Nou Camp it was known as the Copa del Generalísimo, after General Francisco Franco.

“Remember who this is named after,” the dictator notorious for anti-Catalan policy was said to have told Barcelona captain Joan Segarra as he handed over the cup.

Despite living in the shadow of their rivals, this Barcelona side maintained a high level of pedigree.

Spanish midfielder Luis Suarez won the Ballon d’Or in 1960 under the stewardship of manager Helenio Herrera, while the side also became the first to beat Madrid in a European knockout game in 1961, later going on to bitterly lose the final to Benfica.

Many of the players that featured against Shelbourne enjoyed success throughout their careers in Europe and South America, however the most iconic name from those 1963 team-sheets belonged to the manager sat in the opposite dugout to Reds boss Gerry Doyle.

César Rodríguez enjoyed a short tenure in charge of the Catalan giants but remains to be one of the club’s greatest ever players.

César Rodríguez scored 232 goals for Barcelona and was manager against Shelbourne.

That title often seems arbitrary when used in the context of titans such as Madrid, Barcelona, Manchester United and Bayern Munich, who have each featured hundreds of some of the greatest players in the history of football.

However before the arrival of Lionel Messi, César (as he was known), was Barcelona’s record scorer with a remarkable 232 goals.

Messi’s hat-trick against Granada in March 2012 saw the Argentine overtake the player, in the process breaking his record which had stood for 60 years.

While one of the club’s greatest ever players, César enjoyed little success on the touchline, being sacked from the Nou Camp just five games into his second season, as the club would later be transformed following the arrival of Johan Cruyff and iconic Dutch manager Rinus Michels shortly after.

Did Shelbourne have a game-plan for such lofty players under César in ’63?

“Of course we didn’t,” laughs Hennessy earnestly.

All three men attest that manager Doyle, “Mr Doyle”, as they called him, kept it simple. “Off-the-cuff… off-the-cuff… it was always, always off-the-cuff”, they explain.

Wilson: “Gerry… you wouldn’t put Gerry in the context of ‘coaching’. The bottom line is we didn’t really get any at Shels in those days. Mr Doyle was able to go after players that he thought in his mind would blend in with one another. That’s how we were successful; we were all the same age and we all got on very well with one another.

We blended in with each other into a team, and if one person was having a bad day there was always someone behind you who would be there to give you a boost and a dig-out and say ‘come on!’

“We never got coaching like you have now. These days you have a coach for the goalkeeper, for the fullback, for the midfield… we didn’t have that.”

“We only had one ball in those days too,” adds Strahan. “We’d do all the physical work throughout the week and barely touch it, the manager’s philosophy being you’d be hungry like a greyhound out of the traps chasing for it on the Sunday during the game.”

Shelbourne take on Barcelona at Dalymount Park on 24 September 1963.

‘SHELBOURNE FIGHT HARD IN GOING DOWN TO VISITORS’, read a headline in the Irish Times dated 25 September 1963, the morning after their 2-0 first leg defeat in Dublin.

Visiting Barcelona met with unexpectedly heavy resistance in their European Cup Winners’ Cup-tie against Shelbourne in Dalymount Park last night”, the match report said.

“They were an extraordinarily polished combination, using the ball as it was meant to be used along the ground in smooth, well-engineered passages of brilliant football and, let’s face it, only for a splendid display from Shelbourne’s defence the visitors would have had a lot more to show for their work at the finish.”

They had a mountain to climb in the second leg but the tie was far from over, the three men each say. But as they explain, football was never going to be the sole priority for a squad of players many of whom had never stepped foot on an airplane, let alone visit a foreign country.

The Nou Camp can be an intimidating cauldron of noise for opposition teams, but the most serene atmosphere for those playing in the colours of the Blaugrana. Above all else that takes you by surprise is its sheer size.

Strahan traveled alongside the squad despite picking up a serious injury during the first leg which would see him ruled out of the return fixture — an injury which required a steroid injection from the team doctor at Dalymount Park during the game.

Unimaginable to today’s presence of hyper inflated squad sizes, in those days he explains, the side had 11 players. If one picked up an injury the only options were to either continue playing through the pain, or stand down and see your team play on with a man less.

Strahan played the remainder of the first leg but following a late fitness test with manager Doyle behind the goal at the Nou Camp, would not feature in the return fixture.

“I did a fitness test before the game at the Nou Camp. Mr Doyle took me aside behind the goal while all the other lads were training and warming up, but I just wasn’t able. Naturally I was disappointed but I still remember walking out onto the pitch before kick-off.

“I said to one of the lads, ‘ah here, the place isn’t even full’, pointing up to the top of the stands at some empty sections. The top tier was empty alright, but because of the sheer size of the place there was still 40,000 there!”

In a moment which stands surreal when taken in isolation to the first leg, Pat Bonham’s penalty after half an hour gave Shelbourne the lead in the second leg — meaning Shelbourne Football Club led the giants of Barcelona in the European Cup Winners’ Cup in their own patch at the Nou Camp.

“I was the one who was involved in the penalty”, says Wilson, who was deployed on the right wing that night. “I had a good game and when I had a good game, I could be fairly useful. I was on the wing in the second leg, went for a run and was taken down going through in the box by their defender Rodri.

“It was a penalty but there was some consternation about it. I was rolling around on the ground and Dick Kearns, who was a coach with Shelbourne, runs over to see if I’m okay.

He has his medical bag and of course the ‘magic water’ comes out and everything was grand. I said to him: ‘I’m grand Dick, honestly I’m okay, I’ve made it look a bit worse than it is’. But the referee overheard me and warned me about play-acting!

“Paddy was our penalty taker and he took it no problem. A few players might have been doubting themselves or nervous about it so, to be honest, there weren’t too many lads jumping in to take this spot-kick in the Nou Camp in front of so many thousands of people.”

The scoreboard read Barcelona 0-1 Shelbourne after 30 minutes. However an equaliser thundered in from the boot of Sándor Kocsis, of the famous Hungary side, six minutes later to make it level-pegging at the break.

The second half would see Barcelona grab two late goals in the space of as many minutes to bag the win on the night and make it 5-1 on aggregate over the two legs. Fusté gave the visitors the lead before Cayetano Ré, who won the famed Pichichi Trophy for La Liga top goalscorer the following season, bagged a third making it 3-1 at the Nou Camp.

The Shelbourne cohort don’t hold many regrets about what happened after taking the lead now. They lost instrumental defender and captain Theo Dunne to injury in the first half — because Shelbourne had only 11 players he didn’t reappear after the break, and the side battled on with 10 men for the remaining 45 minutes.

Perhaps today they might have put their remaining men behind the ball to secure a historic 1-0 win at the Nou Camp. But back then it was all about playing off-the-cuff like Gerry Doyle had coached them, or not coached them as it was.

John Giles (bottom left) and Tony Dunne (centre) were both team-mates of Jackie Hennessy at Manchester United. Source: S&G and Barratts/EMPICS Sport

“No, no,” says Wilson thoughtfully. “At half-time we were satisfied with how we were playing, everything was going well as far as we were concerned. But, no, you do realise in your own head who you’re playing and the calibre of player you’re on the pitch with.

“The one thing we never did, and it might have been ideal if we did, was to put 10 men behind the ball when we went ahead and do a backs-against-the-wall job to see a win out.

“But the reason we didn’t do that is because it wasn’t our style. The way we saw it, if we can score one and take the lead against Barcelona playing our brand of football, then we can score two, or three playing the exact same way.

“You know yourself as a player that when you’re up against a team like Barcelona you just don’t want to be on the receiving end of a hammering.

We never even entertained the idea of going to the Nou Camp and earning a win. It would have been great alright, and truth be told when we scored you grew another couple of inches, buffed your chest out thinking: ‘hold on now, we’re actually leading Barcelona at the Nou Camp here’.

“But in the back of our heads after that adrenaline ran out we knew it wouldn’t be possible.”

There was never any lasting disappointment, the three men explain, because it was never about the opposition or about a fanciful idea of playing against Barcelona.

It was about being successful, which they had the medals to prove, but more so it was about the team dynamic, the bond between those young lads in north Dublin fortunate enough to play football and have a job at the same time and sharing happy moments together, with one another.

They made the most of those trips abroad not only because they earned the right to do so by winning consistently on the domestic front, but also due to the fact that they were given opportunities to travel across Europe playing football which others did not.

“Joe, Jackie and myself still socialise together every now and then,” says Strahan. “I’m far from being an arrogant individual, or conceited in any way, but one day we were talking and Joe said: ‘Jaysus Freddie, we must have been fairly good footballers?’

People talk to us now about what we achieved and we can look back on it fondly, but when we were growing up and living through it we never thought about it, and that’s the honest truth.

“It’s only now that we’re going into our 80′s that you take the odd quiet moment and think ‘wow, we mustn’t have been bad!’”

“People back home would be astonished”, adds Wilson. ‘You played Barcelona?!’ But you never lost the run of yourself and you stayed grounded about it all.

“More than anything because in Ireland people are the first to cut you down when they think you’ve got a big fucking head about yourself”, he laughs. “There’s no bigger crowd to bring you back down to earth than an Irish crowd.”

They didn’t even get to swap jerseys in either leg, they confess.

Barcelona captain Sígfrid Gracia and Theo Dunne. Source: Marc Gómez

Hennessy: “That wasn’t as big a surprise to me because it had happened before when I got my first international cap for Ireland. I was told by the FAI on my debut against Poland in 1965 that we weren’t allowed, so when it happened again at the Nou Camp I wasn’t surprised.”

Strahan: “No, no we had to give the jerseys back to the kit man. It wasn’t the norm for Irish clubs like ourselves. My first international was against Poland and their lad came over to me and took off his jersey gesturing for me to take it in exchange for mine.

I had to apologise and explain that we weren’t allowed. That… as well as the fact that I wanted to keep it because it was my international debut — I still have it upstairs.

“There was no great money behind us or shirt sponsorship in those days, we had to keep them. The club bought you two things — they bought you your jersey and they got you a pair of boots.”

Wilson: “They came to Dublin, it was a great atmosphere, a great night bar the scoreline, the whole lot… but we weren’t even allowed swap jerseys with the Barcelona players.

“We went to Barcelona and it was the exact same thing. They wanted to swap jerseys after the game in the Nou Camp naturally, but we were told by our superiors at Shelbourne that there was to be none of that.

“We were told the jerseys had to be on the train with us when we went home on the Friday to be washed and ready for our league game on the Sunday.

We were disappointed with that, absolutely. I laugh at it now because even looking at our game against Lisbon the year before, with swapping jerseys — everyone knew that was the thing to do in big-time football.

“It wasn’t even Gerry that told us not to do it, it was the kit man Mick O’Brien. He told us there was no chance because he needed them for the league game the following Sunday. It was the same with the football — we only had one for training — it had to be washed and kept.”

Strahan, the immovable centre back who couldn’t feature on the night, is the only one to have been back to the Nou Camp since.

It’s just as immaculate as he remembers, he says, even if it’s a little bit bigger.

“Yes I’ve been there once since. We went on the tour and saw the museum, I couldn’t find a Shelbourne pennant anywhere.

“Ahh it’s unbelievable… sure anyone could play football on an immaculate pitch like that.

“It was unbelievable to look out and think that you were a tiny part of a club’s history like Barcelona.”

All three men have kept their small Barcelona pennants from the game. That, and the abiding memories of a decade of service and success, trophies, titles, wins, losses, Mr Doyle, Tolka Park, a few trips abroad and the pride of the red jersey of Shelbourne.

Something that will stay with them forever.

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'We weren't even allowed swap jerseys!' – when Shelbourne battled Barcelona at the Nou Camp was originally published on 365 Football

#&039We #allowed #Barcelona #battled #camp #even #jerseys&039 #Shelbourne #swap #weren&039t

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estchange · 7 years

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Growing as a...what?

Person is the word, but that’s boring. I want to grow like a flower, like the little tulip bulbs sold everywhere in Amsterdam, or like the little red buds blossoming in the winter here, or maybe like the weed in your strange aunt’s garden, or the persistent dust that never seems to leave my room back in Singapore, or the idiocy of Trump as the days pass...

Okay so I just wanted to start this thing but I didn’t know how to so there’s that lame title. I just feel like I should be recording more thoughts down instead of just posting pictures everyday, because that’s just me being lazy and taking the easier way out. And this makes me feel like I’m making the most out of my exchange and I think Future Esther will also be thankful for these so I’ll sacrifice a bit of sleep (just joking - my bedtime is like 3.30am now hah).

Saying that an exchange programme helps me to grow as a person and be more independent sounds super lame, like the kinds of things people say in interviews to tell their bosses that hey I’m Esther and I’m really obedient and I listen to my teachers and do all my homework and I know the correct answers for Math questions so please hire me, I’ll listen to you. It just sounds cliche, overused, boring, standard, and lame. This whole damn post is so lame. But it’s also true.

My trip to Amsterdam was the first time I’d ever travelled anywhere alone in a foreign land, with a foreign language, culture, transport system, people, everything. And of course it wasn’t that bad - English is probably spoken by everyone there, it’s a very touristy and no-grass-grows-there path into the forest, it has a well functioning train system, etc. etc. but it was still a pretty scary thing to do, especially when I’m a mousey little Asian girl who gets anxious about anything and everything. It also didn’t help that I fell a week before and my foot wasn’t in the best shape, and my knee is still a bit bruised from a fall like...1.5 months ago. The good thing was that my mobile plan has data coverage all over Europe so Google Maps became my best friend.

Because of the crippling FEAR and ANXIETY and WHAT IF I GET KIDNAPPED AND DIE and WHAT IF MY PHONE DIES IN THE COLD AND I HAVE NO DATA and I NEED TO SAVE SOME MONEY, I made a pretty detailed itinerary. For most days, I had a timetable of sorts where I had set activities, dining places, directions, costs, and a timeline. That’s pretty normal, I know, but I also feel like one of the things I needed to learn in exchange was to let loose and be more spontaneous, so I felt like I was really overdoing the itinerary. To be fair though, I had also wanted to see if the I Amsterdam card was worth the money (it wasn’t), so I had to do calculations and that meant that I needed to know where I was going.

There weren’t any mishaps or hiccups, maybe except for the fact that I forgot to account for how tiring walking for hours and hours can be. And also Amsterdam, you’re a very vibrant city that’s full of buzz and life but you’re also full of the smell of weed (and tobacco) and it’s not very pleasant.

But yeah - essentially, the solo trip pushed me to consider many things I’d neglect to consider if I weren’t alone, and I had to look after myself and make sure I did Proper Adult Things. Like making sure that my tummy is full, my legs are sufficiently rested, I’ve my wallet and phone secure, etc etc.

To add to the predictable, I really do think that exchange in general has taught me a few things about myself. For one - I’ve realised that I do enjoy sculptures more than the 2D artworks, even if my tastes might have been influenced by the inescapable Tumblr Aesthetic. I’ve also realised that I can and should give myself more time - more time to simply unwind at the coffeeshop, more time to rest, to be a functioning person because there are days when I’m just dead beat, and there’s really no point dragging my feet around and suffering the whole time.

I’m also not as awkward as I thought I’d be - there really wasn’t much need to talk to people on my solo trip, though it was really nice when this person began a conversation and even walked me to a cafe that she’d recommended. Eating alone, exploring museums alone, walking alongside romantic canals alone - they were all great. It was liberating even, to have just myself for company and for plans (although it would have been great to have someone to share my thoughts with - but that’s what this blog and my phone are for anyway).

While I am still quiet and awkward and terrible at conversations, it has maybe become something I’m getting more comfortable with. People are also really friendly and welcoming, so that helps with breaking the ice.

I’ve also had to figure out things I had never thought of before - how much detergent does a bucket of clothes need? How do you use a lint roller? Why is my mucus bloody? How do I walk to the train station without slipping on ice, falling, and dying? And they all add up, little by little, into the bank of information at the back of my head on how to be a Proper Adult. It’s quite comforting in that it makes me feel like I could survive a few days on my own if the plane were to crash and I were to land in a deserted island (fight the other passengers and then eat them! but don’t kill the cute guy because he has to be the male protagonist in this YA romance novel).

I know that Adulting is much more than that, and I’ve a long way to go before I can be anything like a Proper Singaporean Adult, but I guess exchange makes my Character Development more obvious. I just need someone to give me a crash course on things like managing my finances, housing, loans, and all the other loaded Adult words that make poor students shit their pants. Maybe the best thing about exchange is that hearing finances no longer makes me shit my pants - I just whimper a bit and cry in my room.

(Again - just a reminder that I’m open to donations. Please help the needy and do some good in this unforgiving world!)

I’m only 1.5 months into my exchange and I still have two solo trips to conquer - London and then my Grand Germany Tour. Okay well it’s not really only 1.5 months because I really only have about 5 months to grow as a person, blossom as a flower, endure as weeds do, rise as fast as Trump sinks, etc. etc. but it still is a short period of time and I’ve a lot more things to see, learn, and do.

So all that remains is for me to live the next few months here as best as I can. I just need to really start doing all my readings and begin working on my assignments because before I grow as a person, I have to remember my roots - I’m Asian.

#text #yeah well this was way longer than expected #if only i were as motivated for my readings #pls ignore any lang errors i am too lazy to proofread this longass essay

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kristablogs · 4 years

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Inside a training mission with a B-52 bomber, the aircraft that will not die

Capt. Carlos Espino (call sign "Loko"), foreground, walks towards a B-52 for a training flight out of Barksdale Air Force Base on March 10th. (Rob Verger /)

Just before 9 a.m. on a blue-sky Louisiana morning, a giant gray B-52 bomber gradually lifts off the tarmac with some 190,000 pounds of fuel on board, a trail of dark exhaust behind it.

Right behind where Tejada and Ripper work is a urinal. Ideally, no one poops on a B-52, even if the mission drags on for hours. Imodium can help.

Rebecca “Ripper” Ronkainen tests her oxygen mask and communications equipment before the day's flight. (Rob Verger /)

B is for bomber

Currently, the military owns 20 B-2s, 62 B-1s (that number may decrease to 45 next year), and 76 B-52s. That makes the BUFF, with its long, swept-back wings and narrow body, the most abundant.

Ray also notes that there’s more than one way to measure a plane’s age. “When you look at the life remaining in the air frame, the B-52 is the youngest,” he says.

A crew member enters the aircraft through the hatch in its belly. (Rob Verger /)

Sending a message

Russia performs similar operations with their fleet. Just this month, NORAD reported that that country flew bombers within 37 miles of Alaska.

Clint "Silver" Scott in the cockpit before the day's flight. (Rob Verger /)

Wheels down

dailymotion

For more photos from inside and around the aircraft, click here or swipe through the gallery, below.

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