valley of the gates of the kings

Cadillacs and Cherry Stems

Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: Absolute writer’s block, but I still managed to churn it out! Requests are always welcome. Just message me. Lol, love y’all❣️ .xx ~ Ryn

Words: 2,722

Warnings: None, other than insecure Pete (aww ): )

You didn’t notice the way he looked at you. 

When you were lost in class, inking blue pen into your hand, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you because your concentration was so alluring – you were oblivious. Or when he took the long way home, trading 25 minutes for a mere three seconds of catching your eyes looking back at his – you had no clue. Peter Parker was entranced by you – your quirkiness, your intelligence, and he wanted nothing more than to say just one word to you – at least one. He wanted more than those three seconds every day; he wanted to wave, or smile, or talk, or get lost in eternal conversation. He wanted to know what your favorite food was, and he wanted to ask you what songs were always drumming through that head of yours. He wanted to know what your hair smelled like, and why you never paid any thought in English class. Above all, he wanted you to want to know him, too. It was crazy, mad even, but he was desperate. And his desperation was killing him. He couldn’t say anything to you, though, because he was just him, and genius or not, you deep-fried his brain. He may be Spider-Man, but without that mask, it was all just a facade. He couldn’t be witty or courageous. Without the red and blue to camouflage his self-doubt and insecurities, he was just Peter Parker, and no amount of superhuman strength would change that. So he kept walking the extra mile and three quarters just for three seconds – end of story. That was until the day the sirens rang like a deafening blast through his heightened ears, and he stopped watching where he was going, and you, too, were deafening yourself with the consistent beat of your music. The collateral reaction came like a flash of light, because the same three seconds he lived for became the three seconds in which your story began. You crashed like two bullets, cherry red coating your clothes. 

“O-oh my gosh. Are you okay? I-I’m so sorry…” Peter felt like he’d been struck by lighting, because you were doing that thing you always did to him just by walking on the same side walk. This was not how he had planned on meeting you. 

“I’m fine.” You had had it with the world today. Now wearing your milkshake, you were starting to convince yourself of life’s boundless ability to wreak havoc on you. Peter, at this time, was also convincing himself of this very same thing, but with more emphasis on blaming himself. 

“Really, it’s my fault. I-I got distracted… stupid…” He started mumbling to himself, and a kind of guilt washed over you, as you looked up at his contemplating face. You placed a reassuring hand on Peter’s shoulder, and gave your best attempt at making a friend,

“It’s okay, Peter. I was pretty distracted, too.” His head snapped up at his name leaving your lips – a name he was sure you didn’t know. 

“Y-you know my name?” He looked like a blubbering fish out of water, and the naivety running around in his eyes made an unfamiliar feeling bubble up in your gut. A small smile tempted to form on your mouth, and suddenly you’d forgotten all about your sticky clothes and abhorrent day. 

“Duh. We’re in like, what, four classes together, and you’re kind of like the school Einstein… You’re hard not to notice.” You suddenly felt awkward, as you noticed your hand still lingering on Peter’s shoulder, and he surely did, too. His heart was about to burst, and if he wasn’t an ace at keeping his cool before, he surely wasn’t now. 

“W-wow, um, yeah… Okay, so uh, okay.” He managed to cough out before forming a small coherent sentence.

“Well, there’s, uh, not much I can do about your wrecked clothes – which I’m like, really sorry about, really – but I can get you a new drink…? I mean, i-if you want. We can go right now, actually. I’m not doing anything. That’s stupid, you probably have a life and are doing something. Are you doing anything? I’d really like to get you a new drink, because I feel super bad… Not like a date though! I-I –” 



“Cherry.” A small smile was considering showing itself on his lips, but it didn’t need to because his eyes were saying enough for the both of you.

“Do you like Sonic?”

Hours later after the endeavor that was only supposed to consist of a hop to sonic, skip to order, and a jump back home, you and Peter found yourselves lost in that eternal conversation that he’d been wishing on a star for and the one you never knew you desired to have. 

“So, Coldplay, huh?” It was amazing to you how Peter’s blockade of awkward geek piece by piece cracked away until this funny, kind, sarcastic boy had blossomed – a guy you never knew existed. 

“Who doesn’t like Coldplay?” He sent you a laughing touché as he shook his hair out of his eyes, realizing that every little detail about you was more perfect than he’d imagined them all to be. Surrealism was floating all around him, and he just couldn’t figure out what to do with himself. He refused to think about the end of the night – he blocked out what would happen when you went to school the next day, and he pushed away the thoughts and knowing of his once again invisibility in your eyes – when he went back to being the dork, the geek, the loser. 

“Peter?” He pulled himself away from his incessant self-berating to look over at you.

“Sorry, what?” You rolled your eyes at what you thought to be a typical act of a boy, not listening, unbeknownst to you the thoughts going through Peter’s head. You sighed and smiled anyway.

“I said, have you ever tried to tie a cherry stem with your tongue?” A blazing fire instantaneously began blotching itself along Peter’s cheeks, as you began to realize the gravity of the question you’d asked, and a light pink hazed over your normal color, and you choked on the last sip of your Cherry milkshake.

“That’s, uh, not what I meant Peter. I’ve heard it does mean you’re a good kisser, though.” He belched out an uncomfortable laugh. He never, ever – like ever – expected to be having this conversation, especially not with you. He didn’t have any idea what to say, but he figured he couldn’t be any bigger of a moron.

“Uh, I, uh, wouldn’t know… and no, I’ve never tried.” You questioningly gazed up at him, somewhat shocked at what you were sure his answer couldn’t be. Had he never kissed anyone? You found the idea outrageous, yet the perpetual innocence of the idea charmed you, and you couldn’t help but find yourself slowly falling into a spell Peter didn’t even know he was casting on you.

“Have you.. never kissed anyone?” You instantly regretted pursuing your question, as a look of embarrassment imbedded itself on the sweet boy’s face. You wanted nothing more than to tell him that it was okay, and it was all artificial – all so manufactured – unless you really loved the person anyway, but he caught words before you could.

“Yeah, um… I haven’t. But I’ll try the cherry stem.” You could tell he wanted to change the subject, and he made it pretty obvious, too, so you did your best to push it aside, plaster a new feeling in the air as you dug around for the cherry in your now empty cup and popped out its stem. You took Peter’s hand, but the second you touched his skin, you had to stop– if only for a mere and brief moment – to feel the electricity that surged through your veins, all the way to your heart, before placing the stem in his palm. 

“Here you go hot shot. Now come on, there’s a place I want to show you.” 

Since you’d grabbed his hand, Peter had had trouble not sounding like he was speaking Greek, and he wasn’t sure if it was because the cherry stem was still rolling around in his mouth, or because he was just truly that retarded. You were questioning your own genuine intentions of your decision of grabbing his hand, rather than just handing the stem to him, and Peter was still stuck on the fact that you touched his hand at all. 

“Are we, uh, you know, like, at there, or there? Or like, the place, is that…?” He felt like smashing his face into a tornado of bricks, and you couldn’t help but snort.

“Yeah, look.” Peter turned his gaze just in front of him, rather than your Y/H/C hair that had blown strands in front of your eyes and he was really wanting to tuck behind your ear (ugh, what is he, a 1993 RomCom?). You had found yourselves standing in front of a rusty gate that looked close to the end of its life, yet it was still standing, dutifully guarding a vast expanse of junk yard as if it were a sparkling castle. Peter glanced down at you, at the childlike smile adorning you face, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling, too.

“Well, come on then.” You tugged at his jacket sleeve in anticipation.

“Uh, Y/N, it’s uh… locked. Doesn’t that mean this is trespassing?” You gave him a sarcastic eyebrow raise as you adored his ‘goody-two-shoes’ act.

“Oh, my dear Peter, that’s the fun part.” He looked at you wide eyed, questioning your sanity, but then unquestioning it because it was your demeanor of rebelliousness that had always drawn him to you in the first place. You held your breath before letting out a loose laugh that danced through his ears, better than any music he’d ever heard. 

“I’m just kidding. It’s abandoned. Has been for 5 years now.” He let out a long breath before slowly nodding, now questioning his own sanity for trusting you – something he surely couldn’t help doing, anyway. As you both slipped through the crack in the gate, you guided them to a car far in the back. It stood proud on a hill – the king of the yard – its pawns guarding it in the valley below. Finally reaching the top, you huffed and turned around, facing Peter and promoting him to follow you and clamor to an unsteady, yet sturdy and dented roof. 

“Uh, Y/N. This is a Cadillac.”

“A 1952 Cadillac.”, you pointed a correctional finger at Peter, who was slowly sitting himself down next to you, pulling his knees up to his chest in the approaching nightfall. 

“Aren’t these, like, really expensive?”

“Oh, very. But not Lucy, here. She’s too beaten, too abandoned. Nobody cares or even knows she’s here” He laughed at you and you glowered your eyes.

“Mr. Parker, are you laughing at abuse?” He raised both eyebrows and looked over to you.

“Oh absolutely not. I’m making fun of the fact that you named it Lucy.”

Her.” You shoved his arm, and a clearly fabricated look of pain filled his eyes, making another one of those unfamiliar feelings grace you with its presence. You didn’t want to acknowledge your crazy ideas, but you couldn’t help but admit to yourself the way the boy who asked you questions no one else cared to know, and the boy who you’d never once spoken to unquestioningly treated you like he’d known you his whole life was making you feel. Your feelings were cut off in the middle of their realization when Peter’s eyes widened and he promptly opened his mouth and rolled out his tongue in which a cherry stem was lying, surely enough in a loop. Your mouth hung open as you slowly started to laugh.

“Unbelievable. I’ve been trying to do that for years! Like I said earlier though, you know what the fact that you can do that means.“ You wiggled your eyebrows in a wavy motion at the boy, and with your everlasting eccentric behavior, Peter was grounded, as a sudden and pleading urge to put his lips on yours overcame him. He was mortified by his own feelings and was sure the internal sweat he was feeling was showing through his eyes. He was petrified, but all the same he was angry – truly angry. His whole life he’d been the good kid. He did his homework, always came home on time, focused on family and school, and yes, it made him happy, but it also made him hate his inability to do otherwise. His whole life he’d been too afraid to live it. Maybe once, maybe just this once, he could convince himself to be more like you – more like the girl he’d admired since he’d set his eyes on her. Maybe once he could be Spider-Man without the camouflage. And in the moment of sitting on this hill, staring at the lights of New York City, his life for once seemed like a movie, and he was the guy who wasn’t afraid to kiss the girl. Ending the constant questioning of the rationality of what he was about to do, he started leaning toward you, praying against your rejection. You noticed instantly, and internally thanked the world around you for his seeming ability to read your mind. But the nearer he drew, the shallower yours and his breath became. Having remembered he’d told you he had never kissed anyone, sudden thoughts flooded his mind, a centimeter away from your lips, foreheads touching. He wasn’t good enough. He was too chicken. He was Peter Parker. Spider-Man wasn’t real; he was a mask – an idea. His breath hitched, and his eyes squeezed shut at his idiocy. Stupid. Insecure. Unrealistic. Somehow, in a way you didn’t know, you knew exactly what was beating through Peter’s mind. You knew apprehension in someone when you saw it. You knew self-deprivation. 

“Peter…” He still had his eyes closed when he hesitantly replied,

“Yes…” He was almost inaudible, but his breaking confidence was loud and clear.

“What are you so afraid of?” You just barely breathed it out, but you didn’t want anything to scare him from telling you the truth. He stiffened, both of your eyes still closed. It may have been the most intimate moment you and he had ever experienced in your lives. Everything felt so raw; you could feel Peter’s vulnerability as if it were your own. You could cut the silence with a knife, and it was only Peter’s voice that ripped through it.

“That-that I’m not good enough, especially not for someone like you. I make so many mistakes, Y/N – more than you may ever know. An-and I don’t know how to do this. I’m afraid of myself sometimes.” You lifted your eyelids, the tenderness of the moment hanging by a thread.

“Being honest Peter, I don’t know much about you. I don’t know your story – your past – but what I do know is that you care enough to ask me the little things about myself. Without even asking you paid to buy me an entire new shake, even though us colliding was half my fault. I also know just by looking at your eyes, there’s this-this light. You have such a big heart, and believe me when I tell you, you’re good enough.” Still leaning his forehead on yours, Peter let out a raspy laugh and a small nod, all of which you heard and felt rather than saw. 

“Okay?” You were desperately hoping what you said could at least help him in some way, the way he had helped turn your day around. He opened his eyes fully to look at yours.

“Okay.” {sorry not sorry John Green😂 } And then he kissed you. It happened so drudgingly slow at first, but it quickly caught up with the pace of both of your hearts. Peter officially was lost is a world he thought didn’t exist, barely managing to process the events of the entire day while you pulled at the back of his neck, he pulled at your lips and placed his hands on your waist. It was something that you both needed – something you both wanted. It was a kiss that you both made sure the other knew you never wanted to end. 

favminaj  asked:

manda a play p nois ai parça, faz favô

Tyga - Stimulated
Tyga - 40 Mill
Tyga - Scandal
Drake - Hotline Bling
Drake - Energy
Drake - Worst Behavior
Drake - Started From The Bottom
Drake - Headlines
The Weeknd - The Hills
The Weeknd - Can’t Feel My Face
The Weeknd - Often
The Weeknd - King Of The Fall
The Weeknd - Tell Your Friends
The Weeknd - Wicked Games
Drake Ft The Weeknd -Trust Issues
Rae Sremmurd - No Type
Rae Sremmurd - Come Get Her
Rae Sremmurd - This Could Be Us
Rae Sremmurd - Up Like Trump
Mike WiLL Made-It - Drinks On Us (Explicit) ft. Swae Lee, Future
Future - Where Ya At ft. Drake
Future - Rich $ex
Future - Blow a Bag
Future - I Won (Audio) ft. Kanye West
Ty Dolla $ign - Or Nah ft. The Weeknd, Wiz Khalifa & DJ Mustard    
Ty Dolla $ign - Blasé ft. Future & Rae Sremmurd
Fetty Wap- Trap Queen
Look - Sem Juízo
Pacificadores - Tô de boa
Pacificadores - Neblina
3 UM SÓ - Hoje Tem Social
3 Um Só - Bob Voltou
A Familia - Castelo de Madeira
Realidade Cruel - Quem sabe um dia
Racionais MC’s - Diário de Um Detento
Racionais Mc’s - A vida é desafio
Sean Paul - I’m Still In Love With You
50 Cent - Candy Shop
Travis Scott - Antidote
Travis Scott - Pray 4 Love ft The Weeknd
Travis Scott - Mamacita ft. Rich Homie Quan, Young Thug
A$AP Rocky - L$D
Big Sean - Blessings (Explicit) ft. Drake, Kanye West
A$AP Rocky - Multiply (feat. Juicy J)
Carnage - Bricks (feat. Migos)
Bolo Doido - Hungria Hip Hop Feat Mr. Catra
Chris Brown - Counterfeit ft. Rihanna & Wiz Khalifa
Belly - Might Not ft. The Weeknd
The Weeknd - Drunk In Love
A Banca 021 - Libra
Joy Corporation - Do you Remember (Vintage Culture Rmx)
3 UM SÓ - Que o bagui ta louco
Yo Gotti - Rihanna ft. Young Thug
Rich The Kid “Plug” Feat. Kodak Black & Playboi Carti
Pusha T - M.P.A. (Explicit) ft. Kanye West, A$AP ROCKY, The-Dream  
OCD: Moosh & Twist (Feat. Hoodie Allen) - All That I Know
Majid Jordan - My Love ft. Drake   
Lil Durk - Ride 4 Me
Tory Lanez - Say It 
Bryson Tiller - Exchange
Bryson Tiller - Don’t
Tory Lanez - Traphouse ft. Nyce
Galantis - Runaway (U & I) (Kaskade Remix)
R. City - Locked Away ft. Adam Levine
Rock City - I`m that.. ft 2 Chainz
A$AP ROCKY - F**kin’ Problems ft. Drake, 2 Chainz, Kendrick Lamar
A$AP Rocky - Goldie    
A$AP Rocky - Everyday (Audio) ft. Rod Stewart, Miguel, Mark Ronson
3 Um Só & Tribo da Periferia part. Arqui Rival - Avisa Aê
3 Um Só Part Look e Tribo da Periferia - Buscar Revolução se Divertindo no Caminho
3 Um Só - Armas para o ar
Face Oculta - Consta (Part Tribo da Periferia)
G-Eazy - I Mean It ft. Remo
G-Eazy X Bebe Rexha - Me, Myself & I
G-Eazy - You Got Me
G-Eazy - Far Alone ft. Jay Ant
Miguel - waves ft. Travis Scott
Travis Scott - Wonderful ft. The Weeknd
Wiz Khalifa - Bake Sale ft. Travis Scott
DJ Mustard - Whole Lotta Lovin’ (Explicit) ft. Travis Scott
Post Malone - Too Young
Post Malone - #mood
Young Thug - Best Friend
G-Eazy - Random
Tribo da Periferia - Falhas
Tribo da Periferia - Demoro
Tribo da Periferia - Viva comum part 3 um só
Machine Gun Kelly - Sail
Machine Gun Kelly - Till I Die
A$AP Rocky - Electric Body (Audio) ft. ScHoolboy Q
Tribo da Periferia - MATILHA
Tribo da periferia - O BARCO E O QUINTAL
Tribo da Periferia - ALMA DE PIPA
PARTYNEXTDOOR - No Feelings ft. Travi$ Scott
Hungria Hip Hop - Dubai
Shock O Qxó - Xish
Misael - Eu e Ela
Pacificadores - A noite Me Chama
Hungria Hip Hop - Astronauta 
Hungria Hip Hop - Detalhes
3 Um só - A vida me chamou pra dar um rolé pt. Arqui Rival
Desiigner- Panda
Arqui Rival e Tribo da Periferia - A Rua Ensina
O.T. Genasis - CoCo
RudeLies - Blackout
Future - Low Life ft. The Weeknd
A$AP Ferg - Let It Bang ft. ScHoolboy Q
The Weeknd - Twenty Eight
KING Z3US - Descent feat. Tangina Stone
Arqui Rival part Complexo Radical - Hoje Ela Quer Correr Perigo
G-Eazy ft. Skizzy Mars & KYLE - Monica Lewinsky
Logic Ft. Casey Veggies - Like Me
All-Star Brasil - O que Tem Pra Hoje
Post Malone - Go Flex
Azael ft. 3 Um Só & Tribo da Periferia - Decidi Não ficar só
DuRu Tha King - New Charlotte Feat. Deniro Farrar, YB, BankRoll Bird
Lund - Alone
Mike Stud - These Days
QuESt - Hunger Prod. 6ix
Kevin Flum - U Mad Bro?
Night Lovell - Still Cold / Pathway Private
Night Lovell - Dark Light
Night Lovell - Trees Of The Valley
KING Z3US - 21 Pounds
Kevin Flum - No More ft. INDY
PARTYNEXTDOOR - Recognize ft. Drake
PARTYNEXTDOOR ~ Break From Toronto
Tribo da Periferia - Sem Esparrar
Trium part Tribo Da Periferia - We Gonna Fly
50 Cent - I’m The Man
RAV - Eu Tô Solteiro
Talvez - Pacificadores
Post Malone - Save It For Later ft Kanye West
Kevin Gates - Tomorrow
Kevin Gates - The Truth
Kevin Gates - Really Really
Kevin Gates - 2 Phones
Tribo da Periferia - Um Sonho
Tribo da Periferia - NÃO SOU OTÁRIO
Tribo da Periferia - EFEITOS DO LONGE
Tribo da Periferia - DR. ENFERMO
Pacificadores feat. Misael - Bobmarleou
SON D’PLAY part Trium - Capital do Pecado
SON D’PLAY - Viveu
Trium - Uma Sombra e Uma Rede
The Weeknd - The Morning
French Montana - Lockjaw ft. Kodak Black
T.I. - DOPE (Official) ft. Marsha Ambrosius
Post Malone - Lonely ft. Jaden Smith & Téo
SON D’PLAY - Abstinência
A$AP Mob - Yamborghini High (Audio) ft. Juicy J
French Montana - Figure it Out ft. Kanye West, Nas
Rae Sremmurd - Look Alive
Yo Gotti - Law ft. E-40
Tribo da Periferia ft. Look & Belladona - Visão tá Ouro
50 Cent - Get Low (Lyric Video) ft. Jeremih, T.I., 2 Chainz
OG Maco - U Guessed It
P Reign - Realest In the City (Explicit) ft. Meek Mill, PARTYNEXTDOOR
P Reign - DnF (Audio) ft. Drake, Future
Yo Gotti - Down In The DM
Yo Gotti - I Know ft. Rich Homie Quan


I’ve been seeing posts, many actually that Sansa Stark is ‘becoming’ like Petyr Baelish, a more grey character. This is a statement that I have always disagreed with, as it seems to be based on the following:

-Sansa’s treatment of Robert Arryn is her moral decay
-Sansa has always been more 'southern’ than her siblings, she has no direwolf, therefore is more easily influenced by Littlefinger
-Littlefinger is the only current mentor of Sansa

All of these statements are untrue. Sansa has completely different motivations to Littlefinger, always has and always will. 

Keep reading

I keep experiencing Schroedinger’s dad.  The quantum state of never knowing if my dad is alive or dead until an observation is made.

I went to Egypt for the Xmas holiday. It was a last minute trip that ended up being incredible. But I chose to go there rather than home because I knew I’d be home soon enough because my dad was dying. Is dying. Has been dying since he was diagnosed with cancer in September, and since he first got sick in June.

My mother has a hard time getting to the point when she needs to break bad news to me. She always gives me a play by play of every moment leading up to the moment she realised what was happening before she says the news. So every phone call, I’m stuck judging from the sound of her voice, the quaver of her breaths if this is the 10min summary that will end with “and he died.”

I finally told a co-worker my dad had cancer in late September, 3 weeks after my mom called to tell me dad had returned from a short trip to California to see his relatives.  He hadn’t been keeping any food down, his skin was yellow and his eyes were jaundiced. His sister’s daughter had stolen his credit card and used it to buy a flight (he didn’t know this, mom found out when she got a purchase notification), and my brother’s bracelet had also disappeared from his bag (assumed to be the same lighthanded niece). Oh and they were seeing an oncologist on Monday because he has cancer.

I held it together at work until the information in mom’s nightly phone calls about doctors and surgeries and appointments repeated in excruciating but confused details got to be too much.  I’d spent most of those two weeks crying in the bathroom and taking 3 times as long to get any work done, so I finally told my co-worker. He was shocked and a little upset he hadn’t noticed how upset I’d been. Within an hour I had permission to head home for as much time as I needed (I selected 1 month… because I had Harry Potter tickets in London and wanted to be back at the end of October for that.)

I spent 30 days at home from September to October.  Dad was mostly lucid but mom was incredible stressed out. Within a week I was in control of their estate planning and by the end of week two I had trusts in place, living wills, powers of attorney, medical bills taken care of.  And dad was confused but happy. We snuck out of the house for trips to Alberstons and Sam’s club to buy more ice cream (the only thing he was eating), and he pulled one of his gags were he kept directing me to drive in circles until I figured out he was fucking with me.  He couldn’t sit through Star Wars anymore without falling asleep, but we got mostly through Force Awakens. But he was still my dad, just a little more closed mouthed, and unable to articulate why he so desperately wanted a surgery that had only 25% success rate. Mom was adamantly against the surgery, but dad wanted it and all his doctors were pushing for it so it was scheduled for November 1st, 4 days after I’d leave for the UK.

I was on a train platform in London when I talked to mom next after flying back to Glasgow.  It was a rambly WhatsApp message. She told me about how annoying the pre-surgery procedures were at the hospital. The liquid dad had to drink, the nurses who kept failing to coordinate between the hospital and his doctor. And finally that the procedure had failed. That the cancer had already spread from his bile duct to his liver and couldn’t be operated on. That his gall bladder had been full of cancer and was removed. He’d be at the hospital for a week, and then a rehab facility for two weeks and then back home.

Over the course of November mom and I talked a lot about the “next steps”. His doctors were pushing for a radiation/chemo therapy to shrink the tumors. Mom and I (and slowly my brother Josh) were against, we saw no point in dragging this out. And dad… Dad’s dementia had gone from mild confusion in June to beyond awful in November.  He ended up getting kicked out of the rehab facility he was in because he kept wandering the halls at night “stealing” from rooms and leaving the stuff he found in different places. He’d find a place to sit on the wrong floor and ask every person going by how to get home. They couldn’t handle him so they sent him to emergency care at a different hospital and didn’t tell my mom til she showed up to the rehab to see him the next morning.

And in early December as I was walking home from grocery shopping mom put me on the phone with dad and he didn’t know who I was. He thought I was one of his sisters, and from California. I sat down on the street in glasgow and started sobbing. Mom took the phone back and when she realised how upset I was she talked to him for a few moments and when he got back on the phone it was him again “I’m so sorry sweetie. I’m so sorry. I could never forget you. I love you. How can I make this up to you. I’d do anything to make this up to you.”

When dad and I hang up the phone on each other we always say: “I love you” “I love you more” “I love you mostest!”

He didn’t say that this time.

Two weeks later I was in Giza, riding a camel, seeing the pyramids and temples that we’d planned to see together since I was a little girl.  And on the first day of the trip one of my fellow tourists had to cut his trip earlier. His father had died. He had to go home.

We were arriving at the Valley of the Kings when I found out Carrie Fisher died.  That was hard to take.

Mom and I had an agreement, if dad died she wouldn’t tell me till I called from Amsterdam on my way back. No matter what, he wouldn’t die (for me) while I was on my trip.  I had a short connection so I rushed to the gate before calling, in case I forgot to keep walking while she talked. She started by asking about my trip, talking about the couple of pictures I posted, the camels that I rode. Boarding process had stared at the gate before we got to the update on dad: he was sicker, wasn’t keeping much down, the dementia was much worse. He wasn’t remembering where the bathroom was, and he kept peeing against the wall of his room.  “But he’s ok, we watched Gunsmoke all yesterday.”

I had a weeks reprieve, to catch up on work and only quick calls from mom, about how dad was doing.  On Friday when I was leaving work at 2000 she called to tell me another nauseating story of failed bodily functions only to finish with that she had to call hospice care earlier that day and they were coming to evaluate him in the morning.

Saturday was a rambling WhatsApp message about hospice bringing a bed over and a day nurse being assigned, but nothing about my dad’s status.

Sunday I didn’t call. I was too stressed about balancing my workload for the next quarter with an impeding sense of doom that my planned trip home February 8th was too late.

Monday morning I told my team captain that I felt awful doing this to the team, but I was going to probably need to fly out on the next week or so and try to work from home (a continent away) earlier than planned (cutting my quarters work weeks from 8 to closer to 5). He was incredibly understanding but I still felt awful I was bailing on the team. I ended up forgetting my phone at my desk for a large part of the day, and I was prepping a satellite for a morning test, so it wasn’t until 2130 I even picked up my phone and there was a phonecall from mom 2 hours earlier.

Schroedinger’s dad.

I locked up the office and started walking home. I called her.

This time the recount started from Friday. Her calling their GP, getting the hospice called. The confusion with orders being sent to the wrong place, her having to call the GPs wife back because the hospice didn’t have his records. The nurse (who was very sweet) who evaluated him, the young men who showed up an hour later and with no complaint hauled all the junk out of his office first before putting in the bed and equipment.  The lovely young woman who came by every morning to deliver the days supply of morphine.  The nurse who came to help him get out of bed this morning and held his hands as she looked to mom and said “He’s in a coma. He can hear us. But he’s in a coma now.”

I told her I’d be flying back tomorrow and I got off the phone to buy a plane ticket, and figured out how to get to the airport in Edinburgh, because it had a flight that would arrive 4 hours before the soonest Glasgow flight. I told my roommate as I was heading back to the office to print tickets and grab chargers.  She asked why I wasn’t crying, “I have too much to get done to cry right now.”

I got back home and started packing and called mom back.  She said, she told dad he has to hang on for another day since I’d be coming home. And that she’ll hold the phone to his ear so I could talk to him.

The woosh of an oxygen mask or a ventilator came on and I burst out laughing “Daddy! You sound like Darth Vader. Don’t go out like Anakin did. That was not a good way to go.  I love you. I’ll be home tomorrow.” The woosh of his breathing in my ear for few seconds, and then my mom took the phone back.

I didn’t sleep that night. I packed for a bit, and then watched Netflix for four hours, and then finished packing just in time to call an uber to head to the train station. I got to the airport two hours early, and finished watching netflix while drinking a coffee. The first flight was really great, I had a row to myself so I lay down, put some music on, and slept for almost the full 7 hours. Getting up to request a meal a bit late and colour in my ODY-C colouring book. The flight attendant loved the book and sat down to page through it while I ate. I left him a note with the book name and isbn when we disembarked in NYC.

I had forgotten to bring my US sim card with me, so I sat at the gate and texted mom: “I grabbed the wrong wallet last night so don’t have my at&t simcard. I’m in JFK, flight leaves in an hour. Lands at 7:50pm terminal 1 and I have a checked bag”

Mom: “Ok will see you soon Love you”

Schroedinger’s dad.

The second flight was awful. I was next to a toddler throwing a tantrum and a mother who was to done to stop him.  I watched my favourite scenes of all 7 star wars movies while blasting Hamilton as loud as my headphones could make it.

At LAS I used the airport wifi to call mom, she was parked in the short term parking.

We never park.  In the 15+ years we’ve been flying into LAS, we always do a driveby pickup.

I grab my bag and walk out there, my brother meets me at the walkway and hugs my tight. He never comes to pick me up at the airport. It’s always just mom or dad.

Mom’s waiting in the car and she gives me a hug, but she isn’t crying. We stop at In-N-Out. Because we always stop at In-N-Out.

Stepping into the house is like every single time I’ve come home. Other than the pile of office supplies sitting in the living room that normally is in dad’s office. I walk far enough into the house that when I turn my head I can see into the office with my peripheral vision. His office is empty.

My father David Johnson: pilot, engineer, the best dad a nerdy, awkward brown girl could have asked for died early Tuesday morning while I was over the Atlantic.

Schoredinger’s dad.  The box is open. His state has been observed.

“House of Eternity” of Queen Tausert and King Sethnakht, KV14, Valley of the Kings, West Uaset-Thebes:
Horus son of Isis (Ḥr-s3-Jst , Harsiési) represented falcon-headed, wearing the Double Crown, holding the ‘Ankh’ and the 'Uas’-scepter; on the top, the 'khekheru’-frieze.
On the background, scenes of the sacred “Book of Gates”

Pic by me.  Story by inharmonyx(reddit):

She took a deep breath of the misty air as she slowly walked up the hill, looking at her feet.

Then there it was. Elsa looked up and remembered the day she heard the unfortunate news three years ago. She can never forget. All the memories of her parents rushed through her head; the birth of her sister Anna, the Valley of the Living Rock, the gloves… Oh how proud the King and Queen would have been, to see their beautiful daughters back in a loving sisterly relationship, to see the gates open, to see how much the girls have grown in the years that they were gone…

She stopped dead in her track.

“Do you have to go?”

“You’ll be fine, Elsa.”

“They didn’t have to go…” she whispered in to the open air.

As if the heavens heard her whisper, the air around the hill seemed to change. The wind stopped blowing. The only thing moving in the scene was the single drop of tear rolling down her cheeks. The tear fell from her cheeks… in free fall… crystallized in to ice, capturing her mourn, sorrow, and the depression that was once in her. The crystal dropped silently on the grass.

The sun had went down, the bright sky to be replaced by vibrant colors of the aurora borealis Elsa’s eyes looked dreamier than ever, reflecting the blue green lights of the show. She stared in to the distance, blurred by her memories..


The Valley of the Kings, the Valley of the Gates of the Kings, is a valley in Egypt where, for a period of nearly 500 years from the 16th to 11th century BC, tombs were constructed for the Pharaohs and powerful nobles of the New Kingdom (the Eighteenth to the Twentieth Dynasties of Ancient Egypt). The valley stands on the west bank of the Nile, opposite Thebes (modern Luxor), within the heart of the Theban Necropolis. The wadi consists of two valleys, East Valley (where the majority of the royal tombs are situated) and West Valley.

With the 2005 discovery of a new chamber (KV63), and the 2008 discovery of two further tomb entrances, the valley is known to contain 63 tombs and chambers (ranging in size from KV54, a simple pit, to KV5, a complex tomb with over 120 chambers). It was the principal burial place of the major royal figures of the Egyptian New Kingdom, together with those of a number of privileged nobles. The royal tombs are decorated with scenes from Egyptian mythology and give clues to the beliefs and funerary rituals of the period. Almost all of the tombs seem to have been opened and robbed in antiquity, but they still give an idea of the opulence and power of the Pharaohs. This area has been a focus of archaeological and egyptological exploration since the end of the eighteenth century, and its tombs and burials continue to stimulate research and interest. In modern times the valley has become famous for the discovery of the tomb of Tutankhamun (with its rumours of the Curse of the Pharaohs), and is one of the most famous archaeological sites in the world. In 1979, it became a World Heritage Site, along with the rest of the Theban Necropolis. Exploration, excavation and conservation continues in the valley, and a new tourist centre has recently been opened. Read more