History has been written! 26.02.2017: Margo Hayes becomes the first female climber to do 9a+ with “La Rambla” in Siurana (Spain)! Congratulations!
Margo: “I am overwhelmed and humbled by the support I’ve received from the climbing community, and my family and friends near and far. None of us achieves our dreams alone, we do so together, and build on those who have come before us. We are a community that not only supports each other regardless of our backgrounds and differences, but is also one that realizes the importance of respecting and preserving our planet. The climbers at the cliffs in Siurana last weekend came from many nations, and were a snapshot of what the world can be like, one of support, communication, and peace.”
So as soon as I saw this prompt I immediately thought of @kiaronna’s road rage headcanons, so:
7. things you said while you were driving
Victor pulls up next to the Escalade and motions for him to roll down the window. He mimes an actual manual crank. It would be adorable if he didn’t look ready for murder.
The driver’s huff is audible even before he rolls down his window. “What the fuck, dude?” He sounds like a Ninja Turtle. Phichit, who believes deep in his heart that every American sounds a little like a Ninja Turtle, would be so vindicated.
“I thought you might like to apologize to my husband, who you could have killed,” Victor says. His own voice is stone and ice. It sounds very dramatic when he puts it like that. It’s objectively true - had the Escalade not braked, he would have hit Yuuri’s door head-on. But as near death experiences go, this one was over very quickly.
The Escalade apparently feels the same, because he says, “Whatever. I saw you. Next time clear the intersection faster.”
He turns, like the conversation is over, but unfortunately for him, the light is still red. Victor leans across Yuuri, as close to the window as he can get with his seatbelt still buckled.
“Even someone as deeply unpleasant as yourself must have loved ones,” he says, his voice low. “You should think of them the next time you drive like a maniac.”
As if on cue, the light turns green, and Victor peels out of the intersection with a screech of tires. In the rearview mirror, Yuuri can see that the Escalade takes a while to get going.
“Vitya,” he says carefully.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Victor drags a hand through his hair. “I know you don’t like it when I make a scene, but-”
“No, Vitya.” Don’t laugh, he chants mentally. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. “Of course you didn’t mean it this way, but. You know that sounded like you were threatening his family, right?”
“No,” Victor says quickly. Then pauses. “Really?”
“The,” Yuuri says. “Accent? Didn’t help.”
Victor blinks. Considers that. And then laughs so hard he has to pull over.
“Well,” he gasps, clearly trying his hardest to sound solemn. “He’ll think twice now, won’t he?”
“A beautiful family you have there,” Yuuri drawls, somewhere between his Victor impression and a Bond villain. “Would be a shame if something were to… happen to them.”
Victor pounds on the dashboard, throws his head back, and cackles. Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri sees the Escalade drive by them, studiously avoiding eye contact the whole way past.
The great thing about a professional car service was that the windows were always tinted an opaque, midnight black. They were one-way. The driver’s partition made the back compartment soundproof. From prior experience, Louis and Harry knew this very, very well.
Harry Styles always arrives in style. What happens before the arrival? And why does he have his beautiful bedhead?