Say Goodbye - A Willa and Chris story

inspired by the song “Say Goodbye” by Dave Matthews Band

Part One

Chris walked through the concourse, weaving around the long lines at the gate check-in counters that stretched all the way back into the wide corridor. Snow was already piling up on the runways and when the pilot had welcomed them to JFK he had also congratulated them on being the last plane given clearance to land; all others had been rerouted because of the blizzard coming in. Thankful that his hotel had been booked in advance and a driver was waiting for him, he carefully stepped around an escaping toddler and tried to block out the noise of people trying to reschedule flights or find hotel rooms.

“What do you mean you can’t get me on another flight for four days?”

The familiar voice cut through the chaos like a sunbeam through a cloud and he stopped and turned in a circle until he spotted the head of carrot colored hair that belonged to it. It was cropped short but her fingers ran through it in frustration just like when it had stretched down her back past the hooks of her bra.

“What am I supposed to do for the next four days then?”

He walked up to the woman and leaned against the counter. “Well, we probably can’t manage a road trip because of the weather, but I’m sure we can think of something.”

Her head snapped around towards him. It took her a second to recognize his face; she wasn’t used to him with glasses and a week’s worth of facial hair probably didn’t help either. “Oh my god! Chris!” She hugged him tightly for a moment and then stepped back to look at his face again. She reached to touch him but yanked her hand back before she made contact.

“I’ll take care of her,” he said with a smile to the gate agent and then took the woman’s elbow. “Come with me. I’ll help you get this all sorted out.”

She grabbed her luggage and trailed after him, the sound of the wheels on her suitcase clicking along the floor completely disappearing into the angry buzz of filling the concourse. “How are you going to fix this? Do you have your own plane?”

“Part of one, but that wouldn’t do it.  No one’s going to be able to take off or land for a few days with the storm that’s coming in. But, lucky for you, I’m better than a gate agent.” He led them into a dimly lit bar away from the grey speckled walls and constant warnings not to leave your luggage unattended and sat down at one of the tables. She followed him, looking around for a waiter or someone to scold them for not waiting to be seated, but no one seemed concerned by his behavior so she took the seat across from him and tucked her suitcase under the small table.

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(Klaine Valentines Challenge Day Four: “P.S. I Love You”) AU Meeting: Kurt and Blaine are pen pals meeting in person for the first time.

Sunlight splays through the window and tilts across the floor as Blaine leans against the grey speckled airport wall. Through the tall sunlight-dazzled windows, stretching from floor to ceiling, he can catch glimpses of planes slowly drifting past. Around him, the flurry of crowds shifts and merges in a tangle of commotion—muddled voices and the rattle of suitcases.

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In Which John Sits in Front of Grey Speckled Walls

Some big Nerdfighter moments have happened in airports over the years. John discovered the arcade game that would soon become the name of our community in his first airport video on February 1, 2007 and he left the Yeti car key-less via an airport in September of the same year. In 2009, Gus the Bug was reincarnated through a request in an airport and we had a plane named after us as it flew to Haiti. In 2011, John “narrowly avoided” arrest after filming a monument to a dead sheep and in 2012 we saw question Tuesdays and watched as John signed bookplates against a gray speckled wall. It will be sad to see them go, if only for a little while. But as the past has shown, I, for one, am excited to see them return later this year or next. 

Watch all (I hope) of John’s Airport videos on This Playlist

Pictures above: (top & bottom) from “The Gray Speckled Wall Encroach: The Perks and liabilities of Frequent Flying” // (middle) the 27 gray speckled walls of John’s Airports - you can view the full color picture here

EDIT: I fixed the spelling mistake in the first gif. I know it’s not spelled specled. Thanks for hanging in there.

anonymous asked:

shipfic with person a as a customs officer and person b as a traveler caught with something weird in their bag. I made this with exR in mind but I suppose it works for anything

This started out as a customs officer fic and then I ran away with it and surprise!  Grantaire is a flying fencer.  As you do.

Enjolras has to remind himself that even attractive people are bound by law, and it’s his job to enforce it.  Especially if said attractive person is a tired, somewhat disgruntled fencer who wants to take sharp objects onto the plane.  Although Enjolras is just a security guard for a small airline company, he is occasionally capable of working miracles and getting a date out of it, to boot.

A giant thank you to lartenluver for editing, you’re an awesome beta.  :)  As always, I’m giving a shout out to enjolgay who is the reason that I’m writing.  Thanks to the anon who sent me this prompt, as well, I had a lot of fun writing this.

“Sir, I’m afraid I can’t permit you to board the plane with this baggage.”

“What?  That’s bullshit.”

Enjolras feels himself purse his lips and he hates it because he knows it makes him look surly and prim, but he can’t help himself.  He’s been standing behind a conveyor belt for hours, listening to rain patter on the roof, and watching x-rays of bags scroll across a screen that looks like it belongs in the 90s.  Rude travelers aren’t really on his list of people that he is willing to deal with pleasantly right now.  Unfortunately, he has to try to make room beside his ever-growing annoyance, because that’s his job.  

Being a security guard for Porter Airlines isn’t all that bad, they’re great employers and Enjolras gets to spend his days protecting his fellow Canadians, allowing them to travel safely as is their right.  He’s also been able to stop quite a few people who think that hiding drugs in the hollow sides of a Crock Pot is intelligent smuggling.  Enjolras had the opportunity to very concisely inform them that it is not, and that there are consequences for breaking laws.

He pulls himself back to the situation at hand with some difficulty - stopping his mind from wandering becomes exponentially more difficult as the hours pass - and faces the man in front of him squarely.  The man with dark curly hair and a shadow that just lines his jaw.  Enjolras takes this moment to remind himself that no matter how attractive this stranger is, he’s subject to the same laws as everyone else.

“You aren’t allowed to bring sharp objects in your carry-on bag including, but not limited to, knives, ice picks, meat cleavers, and, unfortunately for you, swords,” Enjolras informs the man, his voice taking on a deadpan quality as he lists some of the most arbitrary prohibited items he can think of.  Despite his stony expression, he’s laughing inside.  He promises that he is, somewhere deep, deep, down.  

The man’s mouth twitches upward briefly before his face clouds over again and he begins gesturing wildly at the bag in question.  “Swords?  They’re fucking foils, for fencing.  Do you know what happens when you fence?  You stab people and there’s no blood because the foils aren’t fucking sharp.”


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47secondsofveritas  asked:

Prompt: Caskett being clingy or sharing a clingy hug because of some reason: danger, rescue, you choose ^^ Thanks! ♥

Set in Season 1. Hope you enjoy, love! <3

“Oooh Beckett! Look, they’re selling cotton candy!” Castle exclaimed, his hand already fumbling in his right pocket for his wallet.

Kate watched her partner scurry to the stand that was a contrast white to the light green of the grass that surrounded them. He turned around to speak to her, but with the music blaring from the tall speakers at each corner, she had no chance of hearing him, so she merely shrugged at his frantic hand gestures.

As he turned around to talk to the overly enthusiastic worker, who was stereotypically dressed in red and white stripes, she let out a loud sigh, covering her face with her hands, then removing them in order to be able to fan herself, a useless attempt to calm herself down in the New York summer heat.

“Not enjoying yourself, Beckett?”

She whirled around to meet the faces of Ryan and Esposito, the former looking unusually pale, whereas the latter was happily stuffing his face with peanuts.

“I would be. If I were aged seven.” She grumbled, to which Javier shook his head with a frown.

“It’s just a fair, we visit worse places than this on the daily.” He offered, but why the NYPD annual fundraiser had to be held at a fairground on a Saturday afternoon was beyond her.

Before she could argue this point, a shaky exhale from the other man caught her attention.

“You okay there, Ryan?” She asked with a smirk, to which the detective sighed as his shoulders slumped.

“Went on the Twister because McNulty bet $50 I wouldn’t,” He explained, “Should’ve just declined, I want to use this 50 on sickness pills and painkillers.” His hand rose to rub harshly over his forehead and eyes, and Beckett couldn’t help but notice Espo smirking by his side.

“Come on Irish, let’s get you to the bathrooms before you throw up all over the place.” He placed a hand on Kevin’s back, guiding them to the left without much of a goodbye.

Beckett watched them leave with a slight grimace as she witnessed Ryan place a desperate hand over his mouth, then sprint towards the blue coloured door.

Suddenly, two clouds of colour were placed in front of her.

“Pink or blue?”

She looked up at the writer, who was smirking mercilessly with reddened lips.

Kate gave a reluctant eye roll, “Blue,” She grabbed the snack out of his hand, “Because unless you spent the last two minutes making out with that worker, I assume you’ve already taken a bite out of the red one.”

A guilty look spread across his features, before he hastily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand to remove the remnants of the coloured sugar.

“Guess you really are observant enough to be a detective.” Castle huffed, then took another large bite of the cotton candy, not waiting before he’d finished his mouthful to speak, “So, which ride we goin’ on?”

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