#bang slalom | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

niemernuet · 2 years

Text

Second entry for week 7 of the off-season wintersport fandom challenge, just a little one-shot (heh). This week's subject:

winter sports rarepair! choose any two athletes that aren’t typically paired or that you haven’t created anything for before 👩‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍👩��👨‍❤️‍👨

Fun

rating: E pairing: Marco Odermatt/Justin Mursier characters: Marco Odermatt, Justin Murisier length: 1'600 words

It was an undeniable fact that Marco had been part of Swiss Ski's national cadre in one form or other for more than six years, and yet for him it did not feel like it because for various reasons, he did not count the first three of those. The first year he ignored because back then he had been part of the team in the European Cup, and in the middle of his finals to boot, leaving him no possibility to enjoy any free time. The second year did not count because he had been the newbie, too intimidated to do more than watch from the sidelines. And the third year was only a black pit in his memory because Justin had been out all season with his injured knee.

They were cooped up in a chalet somewhere in Southern Tyrol for a week of giant slalom training before the last few races of the season. The spacious house was heated with a giant wood stove, which had the advantages that it was snugly warm at all times, and that its operation kept Kurti entertained for hours, meaning he had less time to torture them with cardio exercises. Marco sat on the couch in the middle of the living room, mindlessly playing on his phone while nothing but soft hacking and hammering from the wood shed at the other end of the house disturbed the peaceful silence.

Of course he liked all of his colleagues, and the year without Justin had not been bad per se, it was just that something important had been missing. He liked Gino and the easy rapport and trust they shared together but sometimes it was just all too apparent that he had grown up as the Baby of the family, accustomed to get his way however he liked it. It could lead to endless bickering between them when Marco refused to yield. He also liked Loïc, and even more than that, he admired him, though there also were times when his unending restlessness annoyed Marco to hell. Sure, he also liked to go on early-morning hikes to catch the sunrise, and he also liked to try new sports, and watch new movies, and listen to new podcasts, and try new recipes, and explore the places where they travelled for their job off the beaten paths, but not all in one day, and most certainly not day after day after day. It could be very tiring, living with Loïc. And of course, he also liked Thomi, who had shown him the ropes when he had first come into the group, and who to this day was still looking out for him, but there were times when he reminded Marco just too much of his own father.

With Justin, everything was different.

Justin was different.

Life with him was fun. Not always harmonious, far from it, and seldom easy, but fun.

Behind Marco, the door to the Chalet was opened softly, and careful steps sneaked into the house.

"I can hear you," Marco said without looking up from his phone. He knew exactly who it was. It was Loïc's and Zoé's turn to cook, and they had gone to the shops. Most of the rest had used them as a free taxi to the village but not all of them.

"Damn it!" Justin swore, and shut the door with a loud bang.

Marco laughed, still fixated on the app he was scrolling through. "Give up, old man. You can't surpri…" The word ended in a high-pitched scream as two handfuls of snow were roughly shoved down the back of his shirt. Marco dropped the phone, and jumped up from the sofa.

"You idiot!" he yelled as he danced through the living room, trying to get everything out from under his shirt. The snow dropped down his back and into his sweatpants, pooling in places where no snow should ever be.

Justin was doubled over with laughter as he watched Marco hop through the room. "You were saying?" he asked.

Marco tried to scrape a few remains of snow from his shirt and throw it at Justin but it was melting in his hand, and all he managed was spray droplets over the floor.

"You won't get away with this!" Marco threatened, and craned his neck over his shoulder trying to look down his back.

"Of course," Justin laughed.

"Damn it, now I'm wet all over," Marco grumbled.

"Then you better get changed before they return," Justin grinned. "Can't be more than a few minutes before they're back."

Marco paused, and turned to Justin. He was still standing behind the couch, his arms folded in front of his chest now, grinning from ear to ear.

Life with Justin was seldom easy, but it was fun, and it was uncomplicated.

"Will you help me?" Marco asked.

"Sure," Justin answered.

-----

The only difference between playing a game of Brändi Dog with Justin and sleeping with Justin was the amount of clothes on their bodies, everything else was pretty much the same. There was no awkwardness in their fumbling, no pretentiousness when they revealed themselves to each other. He had put Marco at ease from the very first kiss, and not a thing had changed since then.

"What did you do?" Justin asked as he closed the door to Marco's room, and pulled him into a kiss. "Your backside is all wet."

Marco snorted, and pulled away. "Somebody shoved snow down my back," he answered.

"Oh dear, that's so mean," Justin said, planting a chain of kisses from Marco's jaw down to his collarbone. "I wonder who that was." His beard scratched and tingled on Marco's skin, and his dick twitched at the thought of feeling it down there soon.

"Uh-huh," Marco said as he undressed around Justin's kisses, dropping his clothes to the ground where he stood.

When they had time and nobody around to disturb them, they could play and joke around for hours, just content to be close to each other. Justin could make Marco laugh so hard they had to pause so he could catch his breath, like when he played "Loïc at a wine-tasting" with Marco's dick, or when he pretended to snap an awkward selfie with a victory-sign like Gino while getting railed. But Marco also loved it when they had no time at all, only a few stolen minutes with the looming danger of being discovered. Justin stayed calm even then, his touch warm and steady, his smile unwavering like now. He pulled Marco to the bed, and sat down on the edge. His hands stroked over Marco's thighs and bottom, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

"Your fingers are cold," Marco said

Justin smiled sweetly as he looked up. "Yeah, I was carrying snow around."

Marco's laughter died soon in a sigh as Justin took his dick in his mouth without using his hands, and started to suck him off, his tongue exploring the head, coaxing first droplets out of him.

"More…," Marco breathed when Justin gave no sign that he wanted to go further with his mouth.

Justin frowned, and with a wet noise let go of Marco's dick. His fingers were warmer but still not as warm as Marco's body, and he hissed when Justin's hand wrapped around his dick, and languidly stroked along his shaft.

"Needy today, aren't we?"

Marco closed his eyes, and pushed into the movement of Justin's hand, savouring the tingling sensation that spread through his body. "Yes," he agreed. "Please!"

Justin gave his answer without words, taking Marco until his head pushed against Justin's throat, and his beard scratched over his groin. He sucked in earnest now, giving Marco no time to catch his breath.

"Justin…,* he moaned, his hands buried in Justin's hair. He would not last long, the well-known heat surging through his body as his knees got weak. Justin knew Marco inside out, and he knew the telltale signs that he was about to come. He did not stop, even as his drool mixed with Marco's pre-cum dribbled down his chin, instead forced him to stay in place and held Marco as he came with a shudder. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt while Marco caught his breath, steading himself on Justin's shoulder. He smiled down at him, and slowly sank to his knees. A dark stain spread between Justin's legs, and a hard bulge strained against his sweatpants. Marco nuzzled his face against Justin's erection, rubbing his cheek against the hardness, and softly sinking his teeth into the fabric. Justin hummed happily, and pushed his pants down. His dick was rock hard and leaking clear pre-cum in a continuous stream. Marco licked the salty fluid with his tongue, making Justin hiss with delight, because just as Justin understood how to push every button of Marco, so Marco knew how to bring Justin to the edge without giving him release.

"Putain!", Justin laughed breathlessly as Marco sucked and stroked his dick at a leisurely pace. "Grouille-toi, non?"

With a soft plop, Justin's dick fell out of Marco's mouth. "I'm sorry?" Marco asked innocently. "I didn't quite understand that."

Something between a laugh and a groan escaped Justin's lips, and his hand wrapped around his own dick. "Oh non non non!" he panted, and tried to stroke himself but Marco slapped his hand away.

"Why didn't you say that?" he asked, and shook his head. He did not make him suffer much longer, and swallowed all Justin had to give, sucking and stroking him until he fell backwards with a groan. He patted Justin's thigh and left him sucking for air like a drowning man while he pulled a dry pair of pants out of his suitcase. He had one leg in the air, when the deep hum of an engine sounded through the window, getting louder and louder until it suddenly died. Justin was still lying on his back with his pants around his knees, and his shirt stained all over, visibly enjoying Marco's rising panic.

"That was close," he grinned.

#osws fandom challenge #rpf #sports rpf #justin murisier #mine

5 notes · View notes

motorfestgames2023 · 7 months

Text

The Crew: Motorfest - Igniting the Racing Scene in Hawaii

The Crew: Motorfest is like totally lit, you know? It's not about its success, but more about how it's following the same vibes as Forza Horizon. They've jacked all the dope stuff from Forza Horizon, from the menu setup to the intro, the banging music choices, and the storytelling style, down to the types of races and the actual gameplay itself. It's like, if a game series is fire, it's gonna get copied, and that's cool, but it's not getting a high score from them. Anyway, it's awesome that PlayStation players finally get a similar game to vibe with.

Hawaii is where the biggest motor fest in the world goes down, with all the different races and scenes, from lush jungles to chill volcanoes, crazy cities, and untouched beaches. All those spots are gonna get messed up by racers doing their thing, whether it's off-road, on the streets, or at the tracks. And it doesn't matter if you're into cars, bikes, boats, or planes; they got it all, and that's just the beginning of what's in store in The Crew Motorfest, which they've been hyping up. It had to step up its game and give us a map that's as rad as the one in The Crew 2, which had a "condensed" version of the whole United States we could explore coast to coast, with all the iconic spots. Hawaii, while wild and diverse, doesn't have the same pull, like no Las Vegas to hit up, but it makes up for it with a massive landmass, with different vibes in every corner. Plus, thanks to the new consoles like the PS5, the visuals are next level, with stuff to smash everywhere, and the graphics are insane especially the lighting. So, if you're looking to enhance your gaming experience, you might want to consider where to buy PS5 games.

Adrenaline Rush: The Ultimate Racing Experience on the Island

Inside the island, there are all these mini-games, just like the rival game. You got stuff like speed limits and photo ops. They even brought in this Slalom thing where you have to zigzag through points in a set area, which sounds hella fun. And there's a whole section for Formula cars that you can race on tracks. Aside from cars, boats, and planes, these Formula rides are a blast, with even pit stops. It's more arcade-style, not the hardcore sim stuff like Formula 1 games. They even threw in some Red Bull vehicles from back in the day. The real deal for a racing game is how the cars drive, right? Before, The Crew didn't do it for them, and they thought the driving in lots of Ubisoft games, like Watch Dogs 2 and Legion, was whack. So, they were mad skeptical about this game, wondering if it would be worth it to buy PS5 games like this. Like, more biased than cautious, for real.

Customization and Legend Points: Unveiling Motorfest's Personalization Features

Now, let's talk about customization in Motorfest. First off, you get to pick a character, but it's kinda meh, not much to work with, so they didn't even bother making a character that looks like them. But you can customize your character's drip a bit, from gloves to shades. They also have animations for posing and celebrating, but here's the kicker – once you pick your starting gear at the beginning, you gotta spend in-game bucks or real cash for the rest. When it comes to the money stuff, they've been grinding for over a dozen hours and haven't felt the pressure to drop real dollars. What's more important than looks is those Legend Points (LPs). You earn 'em by playing, like when you're looking to buy PS5 games, and can use 'em to unlock perks like more nitro power or better drifting. LPs let you flex your style beyond just clothes, ya feel?

#the crew motorfest – familiar horizons

1 note · View note

stxr-bxster · 1 year

Note

⏰ thrill

Slip a ⏰to see a memory or a part of my muses’ past.

The clamps on Krigg's antennae sent a sharp pulse, making the sensitive appendages twitch and inch apart the slighest bit. No sound in the depths of space, only the faint rumble of the scout ship's engines, and the artificial brushes of vibration from the clamps, painting an environnmental picture that her eyes couldn't see. A sharp jerk of the twin control sticks sent the craft on a swerve, barely grazing a small cluster of asteroids. The sensation of moving parts behind her sent a shiver down her spine, an all-obscuring mass practically brushing against the back of her neck sending the clamps into a frenzy of white noise with each smashed asteroid. Auxillary screens in the corners of her vision flashed nightmarish pictures of huge, snapping pincers and a gargantual body advancing in slow undulating motions across the asteroid field, worming its way through like a mighty icebreaker.

But the faint flicker of fear seemed to only fan the flames fluttering inside Krigg's chest, and she gunned her craft's engines, a smirk creeping onto her face, exhilaration obscuring the fear. Obstacles zipped right and left as she slalomed between sluggish asteroids, placing more and more of the field between her and the advancing carrier titan that had little time for subtlety, only crushing power. And yet, in that lay the thing's downfall.

That's the neat thing with Horde organisms. The less of them there are, the stupider they get. And the easier they are to bait.

With one last flick of the scout ship's thrusters sending it wriggling through the last few, tightly clustered rocks of the asteroid fields before she righted her craft's control, and zipped sharply ahead at a sheer angle.

There was no noise in the void. But she would be damned if she didn't feel a vivid rush of satisfaction at the light that reflected off of the stray asteroids surrounding the field. In her rear view screens, the dark shapes of the firing line, barely illuminated by the carnages, provided a subtle backdrop to an explosion of molten rock as a small contingent of the force proceeded fire all cannons towards a small, focused point in the field. The sinewy coils of the carier titan flailed and thrashed, before the light of the artillery finished consuming it, throwing its remains against the wrecked asteroid field.

Krigg felt a cheer erupt from her, legs kicking against the console with a bang as she screamed. "EAT MOLTEN SLAG YOU MANYLIMB FREAK!" Her holler screeched through the crackling communication channels, static-peppered calls and barks echoing the sound.

"Ready to go again, ship 00-626?" Came the crackling of the command ship's channel. Krigg's hand slammed against the command console to un-mute her end of the channel, a wide grin stretched across her face.

"Positive, command. Let me at 'em." She purred, legs kicking in her seat.

#ask meme #the27percent #(This took so long I'm SO SORRY)

1 note · View note

melbournenewsvine · 2 years

Text

Heavy rain causes more potholes to appear on Melbourne roads

Crews were unable to carry out major repairs until the weather calmed. Meanwhile, the water on the roads makes the potholes bigger and deeper. “When we get periods of above-average precipitation, as we are seeing now, it is not unusual to see more potholes on our roads,” said Paul Northey, DOT’s Chief of Regional Transportation. “We need to wait for warmer and drier weather so that we can deliver long-term repairs that will last – doing this type of work when it’s wet or cold greatly increases the risk of business failure.” For those who regularly use the Melba Expressway, which has a top speed of 100 km/h but often slows to 40 km/h, the road surface has become alarmingly unsafe. Golding’s opinion.attributed to him:Matt Golding It was only a matter of time until a pit caused a fatal accident, said Paul Volckering, the former mayor of Mansfieldshire. The stretch of Melba Expressway near Glenburne has already proven to be deadly. In August, 30-year-old Georgia MacDonald was killed when her car collided with another vehicle. The exact conditions have not yet been announced. Her partner was preparing to propose within days of the breakup, according to a GoFundMe family page. In addition to the heavy rain, Volkering said the road suffered from heavy traffic into nearby snowfields during the winter. “You can’t drive more than a pair of k’s on this road without going through a big pothole,” he said. “It just became a real nightmare,” he said. “It’s okay if you’re an experienced country driver, you know where to slow down, but it deteriorated to the point that it became unexpectedly dangerous.” Vacant hole on Melba Highway.attributed to him:Simon Schlutter Nearby tire manufacturers have also reported a significant increase in business due to potholes on the Melba Expressway and other high-speed roads, including the Hume Expressway. Zoe Lee, principal at Seymour TyPower, said there has been a recent three-week period in which dozens of cars were constantly slalom on spare tires or immobilized on the backs of tow trucks. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” she said. “They were getting off the highway as if there was no tomorrow.” She said the damage appeared to be consistent with cars hitting potholes at speed. “The tire is broken in the impact,” she said. “It’s like an egg growing on the sidewall of the tire. Once that happens, they need to be replaced.” Eldon Liberal Representative Cindy MacLeish recently raised the issue of the poor state of the Melba Expressway in the state parliament. “I drive this road myself regularly; it must be one of the worst in the state,” she said. The Department of Transportation said $4.3 million has been allocated to repave the Melba Expressway in the next fiscal year. More broadly, the state government has committed more than $780 million to repair 1,600 kilometers of the state’s arterial road surfaces this year. Earlier this week, the state’s opposition promised to spend $10 billion on road maintenance in the next 10 years if elected. Drivers on the Melba Expressway hope that repairs will be made sooner rather than later. loading Lindsey Hawking, of Yea, said a pothole near Glenburn recently punctured one of the Ford XR6’s tires, while another dented the exhaust system. He said, “It was just a sudden ‘bang’ and then within a minute a ‘thumble’. “One morning as I was driving, eight cars were parked on the side of the road with cranes raised.” He said the danger was not only in hitting potholes, but when drivers weave across the road to try and miss them. “I was moving several pits that day, and I had about 10 cars behind me and it was like a big snake,” he said. “If it’s in the dark, you won’t see them until you’re above them.” The Morning Edition newsletter is our guide to the most interesting daily stories, analysis and insights. Register here. Source link Originally published at Melbourne News Vine

#Melbourne News Vine

0 notes

gangrelated · 5 years

Photo

groomers

#turning #snowboarding #groomers #carving #norway #hemsedal #bang slalom #powderhounds

30 notes · View notes

nixoneurope · 7 years

Photo

Legendary podium for the Bang Slalom 2017! Nicolas Muellair, Terje Haaskonsen and Mikkel Bang respectively placing 1st, 2nd and 3rd 🔥 What a day of competition 🏂

#nixon #nixon snowboard #rider #nixon rider #mikkel bang #nicolas muller #Terje Haakonsen #hemsedal #bang slalom #banked #podium #slalom #sunny day #norway #competition

8 notes · View notes

double-croche1 · 2 years

Photo

[TOP FILMS 2021] Voici notre sélection totalement subjective des 25 films qu'on a préférés en 2021, avec nos chroniques et interviews (dont 7 du top 15) ! 🎬✨ 1. ‘Drive My Car’ de Ryusuke Hamaguchi Chronique : https://bit.ly/3sxblMX 2. ‘First Cow’ de Kelly Reichardt Interview de Kelly Reichardt : https://bit.ly/3my567T Chronique : https://bit.ly/3mus3Zs 3. ‘Memoria’ d’Apichatpong Weerasethakul Chronique : https://bit.ly/3sAR8ps 4. ‘Onoda’ d’Arthur Harari 5. ‘Le Genou d’Ahed’ de Nadav Lapid Interview de Nadav Lapid : https://bit.ly/3swPqFN Chronique : https://bit.ly/3Eq4tDr 6. ‘Bergman Island’ de Mia Hansen-Løve Chronique : https://bit.ly/3qnTKnZ 7. ‘Julie (en 12 chapitres)’ de Joachim Trier Interview de Joachim Trier : https://bit.ly/3Fr5egR Chronique : https://bit.ly/3EwZp0c 8. ‘Annette’ de Leos Carax 9. ‘Compartiment n°6’ de Juho Kuosmanen Interview de Juho Kuosmanen : https://bit.ly/3ppdnwJ Chronique : https://bit.ly/3mw6ojv 10. ‘Un Héros’ d’Asghar Farhadi Interview d’Asghar Farhadi : https://bit.ly/3Euvg1k Chronique : https://bit.ly/3Hd2Lqz 11. ‘The Power of the Dog’ de Jane Campion 12. ‘Gagarine’ de Fanny Liatard et Jérémy Trouilh Interview de Fanny Liatard et Jérémy Trouilh : https://bit.ly/3Jieo1m Chronique : https://bit.ly/3qu1Mfg 13. ‘La Nuée’ de Just Philippot 14. ‘La Fièvre de Petrov’ de Kirill Serebrennikov 15. ‘Au commencement’ de Dea Kulumbegashvili Interview de Dea Kulumbegashvili : https://bit.ly/3ellIen 16. ‘The French Dispatch’ de Wes Anderson 17. ‘L’Événement’ d’Audrey Diwan 18. ‘The Velvet Underground’ de Todd Haynes 19. ‘Mandibules’ de Quentin Dupieux Chronique : https://bit.ly/3FqdxJN 20. ‘Teddy’ de Ludovic et Zoran Boukherma Chronique : https://bit.ly/32xjuWy 21. ‘Slalom’ de Charlène Favier Chronique : https://bit.ly/3Jie9Du 22. ‘Lamb’ de Valdimar Jóhannsson 23. ‘A L’Abordage’ de Guillaume Brac 24. ‘Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn’ de Radu Jude 25. ‘Titane’ de Julia Ducournau Chronique : https://bit.ly/3JfRJmr A&B

2 notes · View notes

tobiaskarnbach · 4 years

Photo

Meine Irlandtour 2020- eine Zusammenfassung aus verschiedenen Texten.

Wieso ist der erste Tag immer so verdammt gleich- will mich Irland etwa gleich wieder verjagen? Ich kann nicht sagen, ob es Regen ist oder Schweiß, welcher mir ins Gesicht tropft. Vermutlich beides, auf jeden Fall stinke ich ganz schön, als ich später meine Jacke auszog. Mein Körper fühlt sich gebraucht an, aber jetzt auch glücklich und trotzdem stellt sich die verdammte obligatorischere Frage nach dem warum. Dabei ist nicht das Ritual das bedauerliche, sondern dass es gleich am ersten Tag eingelöst wird. Naja, es gibt halt Tage da läuft einfach viel schief- es ist ja nicht so, dass es sich nicht angekündigt hätte. Gleich als es los gehen sollte, war erstmal die Lock kaputt. War dann gar nicht so schlimm, ich kam ja trotzdem pünktlich zum Gate. Beim Start raunte zwar etwas der Rumpf des Flugzeuges, sodass ich schon dachte, wir würden Abstürzen, aber ich kam wohlauf in Dublin an. Ich schraubte das Rad zusammen und wurde voreilig euphorisch. Über Umwege fand ich den Weg nach Dublin. Doch die Stadt war nass und tot. Ich fuhr weiter. Dann, kurz vor der Stadtgrenze, der legendäre Erste-Tag-Platten. Eine Heftklammer wollte wohl Sticheln “heute wird kein Rad gefahren”. Ich Wechsel den Reifen und fahre zu einem Rad laden. Nach fast zwei Stunden shoppen, was viel mehr 2 Minuten shoppen und 1,58 Stunden suchen war, bin ich nun gefühlt bereit.

Das Terrain ist sehr hügelig. Wieder ist mein Rad nicht das optimalste, aber ich habe ja starke Beine. Ich kämpfe mich die unzählige Hügel nach oben Bremse bei den Abfahrten. Aber manchmal wird der Weg besser. Manchmal sogar richtig toll, bis ich merkte dass ich falsch war. Also doch keine traumhafte Strandpromenade, stattdessen weiter steile Hügel. Die Strecke zährt und ich mache Pause. Langsam komme ich voran und werde dann endlich auch vom Wind eingeholt. Er bläst so stark, dass ich oft absteigen muss und schieben. Naja vielleicht laufe ich ja um Irland. Dann plötzlich Sackgasse. Das einzige Schild nach Arklow wird zur Autobahn. Ich fahre ins Grüne, während nun auch ein, nicht für Irland typischer, seichter Regen, sondern ein prasselnder, unaufhörlicher Regen einsetzt. Es wird kalt und nass und das ist dann auch das Todesurteil für mein Handy. Also geht es analog weiter. Die Hügel werden jetzt noch steiler und die Abhänge gefährlich. Nach etwa einer Stunde bin ich dann wieder an einer Straße mit Schildern und finde mit freundlicher Unterstützung den Weg. Aber ich bin nass und kalt. Meine Motivation schwankt zwischen den abnehmenden Kilometern in Kombination mit kurzen Regen Pausen und wird vom Gegenwind wieder ausgebremst, sodass ich ohne zu wissen wie spät es ist oder wo ich gerade genau bin, nach einem Platz für die Nacht suche. Manchmal ist es dann einfach Schicksal- das ist ja eigentlich die Idee der ganzen Reise hier. Während ich mir meine Regenausrüstung unter einem schmalen Vordach überstreife, spricht mich ein outdoor- Enthusiast an, welcher mich auf den ersten Blick wohl bedauerlich, dann verrückt und letztlich aber super findet. Er überzeugt mich, dass dies kein Wetter zum draußen sein sei. Ein Kilometer zurück ist ein Zeltplatz. Dieser ist zwar ausgebucht, trotzdem darf ich noch in eine Ecke…vermutlich sah ich einfach so bedauerlich aus. Ich bekam sogar eine halbe Stunde Dusch Zeit geschenkt.

Damit sollte alles eigentlich ein Happy End haben, aber als ich mir gut gelaunt einen Tee machen möchte, stelle ich fest, dass aus irgendeinem Grund der Kocher nicht sauber verbrennt.( Erst Zweifel ich am Benzin, doch stelle später fest, dass die Flasche einfach zu voll gefüllt war.) Der verzweifelte Akt, ohne das Zelt abzubrennen. Trotzig lege ich die warme Schüssel zur Seite und widme mich meinen schreib Sachen. Drei Worte und der Stift war leer. Naja- ich muss hier raus. Also gehe ich spazieren. Zwar wird der Wind gerade wieder stärker. Aber was soll schon passieren? Das Zelt wegfliegen?

Was ist also die Lektion des Tages? Ich sollte mich nicht voreilig freuen und gleichzeitig immer freuen. Ich sollte die richtige Ausrüstung dabei haben- zb eine Aufblassack, in welchem gerade meine nassen Füße stecken. Und letztens, Selbstkontrolle: dieser Drang nach Freiheit und Unkontrollierbarkeit bringt doch regelmäßig komische Momente mit sich. Aber Karma ist eine bitch... also kommt sicher bald auch wieder was unglaublich tolles.

So ich habe jetzt eine Stunde um Tagebuch zu schreiben, dann muss ich meine power Bank laden gehen.

Bei mir ist gerade alles nass. Erinnerst du dich noch an den Campingplatz in Dänemark, welcher so unter Wasser stand? Hier sind die Lachen drei mal so groß und es schüttet wie aus Kübeln. Dafür summen mir keine Mücken um die Ohren. Ich bin gut gelandet, doch schon aus der Luft hat man gesehen, was für ein Wolkenteller über der grünen Insel lag. Doch morgen soll es besser werden, meinte ein Einheimischer. Auf jeden Fall ist es perfekt so, wie ich es mir vorgestellt habe- nichts war vorherzusehen oder ist passiert, wie es irgendwie geplant gewesen wäre. Ich genieße es einfach.

Und übrigens danke für den Steppenwolf :) ich bin fleißig am Lesen und ich freue mich jetzt schon, wie die Geschichte heute meinen Abend füllen wird. Das Einzige was jetzt noch fehlt sind die von Oma platt gesetzten Sessel Wolken und du mit deinen Crêpes.

Ich komme gerade zu Ruhe und fange an zu schreiben und zu lesen, als völlig unerwartet das Telefon klingelt. Meine Daumen fleißig am Tippen, legte ich aus Versehen auf. Was für eine Tragödie! Ich wäre bereit gewesen, soviel Aufmerksamkeit zu geben, wie sonst in zwei Monaten zusammen. Ich hoffe dass du nochmal anrufst, ich möchte mit jemandem reden. Aber die Minuten verstreichen und ich gebe langsam die Hoffnung auf. Du denkst vermutlich ”der hat kein Bock” und ich glaube, du rufst morgen nochmal an.

Der Regen tröpfelt jetzt nur noch auf mein Zelt und vielleicht kommt morgen ja wirklich die Sonne raus.

Abschließender Gedanke für den ersten Tag.

Da träume ich hier ein kleiner Abenteuerer zu sein, aber das Bild wirkt wie erfunden. Ich bin auf einem fünf Sterne Camping Platz. Alles ist erdig und schmutzig, feucht oder riecht. Aber es ist warm. Der erste Tag war erfolgreich und erfolgreich chaotisch. Mein Kopfkissen ist mein Helm und meine Radler Hose, und heimlich bange ich um meinen weißen Inlay Schlafsack. Ach Medaillen mit zwei Seiten sind schon immer was doofes.

Abwechslungsreich schwillt und schrumpft das Land heute unter meinem Rad hinweg. Die Sonne und der Wind haben das Unwetter von gestern vertrieben- das Einzige was noch bleibt sind grüne Straßen. Den Sturm hatte viele Äste und tausende von Blättern abgerissen, um deren größere ich nun Slalom fahre. Zunächst muss ich wieder den Kilometer bergauf, welchen ich gestern zurück gefahren bin. Dann bin ich bald in Arklow. Der Tag nach einem herausforderndem ist immer so schön. Ich frühstücke was kleines und fahre weiter. Ich weiß nicht genau wo lang ich muss, also frage ich die Menschen und entdecke neue Wege. Gleich hinter dem Ortsausgang bekomme ich dann sogar Gesellschaft. Ein Rennradfahrer nimmt mich zunächst in seinen Windschatten, beäugt dann mein Bahnenrad und gibt mir weitere Tips für den Weg. Sowas sind immer die besten Begegnungen. Naja mal abgesehen von gestern Abend. HAHA während dir meisten Campinggäste überstürzt abreisten, hielt es ein Schlauberger es für sinnvoll, Haus und Kegel auf die überflutete Wiese abzustellen und ein halb kaputtes Zelt, ohne wissen wie es geht, aufzuschlagen. Ich half ihm kurzer Hand, lehnte das Dankesbier aber ab. Dafür drückte mir am nächsten Morgen seine Frau ihre Adresse in die Hand “falls ich einen Ort zum schlafen suchte”.

Naja, jetzt noch eine Fritzsche Power-Banane und dann geht es weiter nach Wexford.

Nach Wexford bin ich nach Westen abgebogen. Hier würde es dir sicher gefallen. Ich fuhr erst ein Stück auf dem Euro Velo 1, wechselte dann auf die Rad Route vier und bin jetzt auf der Kupferroute, direkt am Meer. Wenn morgen das Wetter gut bleibt, erreiche ich dann endlich den wild Atlantic Way. Heute war das Wetter herrlich. Noch ein paar Mal bekam ich Unterstützung von lokalen Rennrad Fahrern. Entweder durfte ich im Windschatten fahren oder ich bekam Tips. Einer bezahlte mir sogar die Fähre. Dieser Abschnitt war besonders spektakulär- ich tot müde von den ganzen Hügeln, lag nur noch wie ein Sack Kartoffeln auf meinem Sattel und mein Magen knurrte. Dann kam endlich die Abfahrt und ich saußte mit bestimmt 60 Sachen an meinem Mitstreiter vorbei, quasi direkt auf das Boot. Auf der anderen Seite ist dann ein super Strand, mit einer öffentlichen Wiese, auf welcher man sicher super Campen kann. Dort habe ich dann erstmal eine Runde geschlafen, denn nur so kam ich auf den nächsten Berg hoch. Ich glaube meine eigene bei Kraft ist so mit eine meiner einzigen Beschränkungen. Ich habe keine Ahnung wo ich in 3-4 Stunden sein werde, wo ich schlafen werde. Ich bin einfach auf der Suche nach Schönheit und Ruhe. Ich war dann noch schwimmen. In den Steilklippen gab es Podeste und Sprungtürme und alle einheimischen Waren dort. Das Wasser war eisig, doch diese Lebendigkeit. So etwas darf man einfach nicht verpassen. Jetzt liege ich oberhalb der Klippen in meinem warmen Schlafsack und die Sonne liegt in den letzten Atemzügen- ein seufzend rosa streifen zwischen blau. In der Ferne regnet es und meine Augen werden schwer.

Heute ist so ein Tag, an dem fällt es eigentlich schwer Tagebuch zu schreiben, weil nicht wirklich etwas passiert ist, was man mitteilen mochte, auch wenn es dreimal geregnet hat und das eine mal dabei so schwer und plötzlich war, das mir jetzt noch in den Füßen vor Kühle kribbelt.

Mit einer steilen Abfahrt ging es los und an herrlichen Strände der Kupfer Küste vorbei. Etwa 5 km hinter meinem Lagerplatz fand ich noch eine weiter tolle Wiese und noch ein bisschen weiter kamen dann tolle Klippen. Dann die Kupferschmiede und dann blieb ich auf der Landstraße um meine Beine zu schonen.

Egal wo ich dann heute hielt, es war überall schön, aber trotzdem nicht wirklich besonders. Morgen werde ich die Orte schon wieder vergessen haben. Jetzt bin ich kurz vor dem Meer und hoffe, dass ich ab morgen hoffentlich endlich an der sehnsüchtig erwarteten Küste übernachten kann. Denn leider haben die Iren die dumme Angewohnheit, ihr Insel in kleine ummauerte Ställe zu unterteilen und nichts dazwischen zu lassen, sodass selbst die Straßen eingequetscht werden. Hauptsache jeder besitzt sein eignes Haus.

Ach und heute war fast wieder der Tag der drei kaputten Reifen. Ich hoffe damit ist auch dieses Schicksal erfüllt und ich komme jetzt endlich ganz ans Ziel. Denn wenn ich noch mehr reparieren muss, kann ich gleich eine fahrende Werkstatt aufmachen.

Ansonsten geht es mir gut. Ich genieße das Land, das Wetter und das Essen. Ich lese und schreibe. Eigentlich wunderbar.

Ein Tag später: Ich liege jetzt hier kurz hinter Skibbereen in der Sonne- die kurzen Augenblicke und sanfter Regen nebelt mir ins Gesicht. Ich schaue in die Wolken und versuche die sich veränderbare Vielfalt zu fassen. Man könnte sie Stunden anschauen, ohne sie richtig zu sehen. Die idyllische Hafenstadt dagegen, ist mit einem Blick erfasst und könnte skizziert werden. Aber vielleicht liegt darin gerade die unzubändigende Schönheit eines natürlichen Durcheinander (im Sinne des Maßstabes).

Heute war ein guter Start. Ich bin einfach meinem Gefühl nach gefahren und bis zum Mizen Head gekommen. Nach Schull kam dann nur noch Bilderbuch Landschaft. Ich hielt bei einem 4000 Jahre alten Stein-Altar und ging mich dann im Meer waschen. Das Wasser war kalt und die Wellen so hoch wie ich. Es war wunderschön. Den Leuchtturm habe ich aber nicht wirklich gesehen. Das ganze Gelände ist eingezäunt und abgesperrt - Andenken an den vorcoronalichen Besuchskonsum. Die Einheimischen meinten ich kann am Strand schlafen. Tatsächlich habe ich einen wunderschönen kleinen Strand gefunden, im letzten Tal, direkt neben dem Parkplatz, die Treppe herunter.

Das ist der perfekte Ort, die richtigen Emotionen und der Moment, eine Flasche Wein zu leeren und sich dahin zugeben, dahingehen zu lassen und der Welt zu übergeben, das Mensch sein zu vergessen. Ich verfiel vorher in solche Melancholie, als mir wieder einmal Bewusst wurde, wie wir dem ICH alles unterordnen, wie der Mensch alles umformt und es nicht schafft, es als etwas besonderes zu behalten. Kein anderes Lebewesen kann überhaupt etwas als besonders bezeichnen, vielleicht sich wohl oder richtig fühlen, so wie ich das gerade tue. Aber nur mit der Kraft unserer Phantasie und unserer emotionalen Verbindung wird es ja erst das was wir sehen. Ohne dies ist es einfach nur Zerstörung.

Später bekomme ich noch einen Anruf. Diesmal fühlt es sich an wie eine unerhörte Verschwendung, eine Störung, aber das ist auch schon das tippen und das sind auch schon die hässlichen Ferienhäuser auf der anderen Seite. Eine ferne Stimme. Ich weiß gar nicht, ob ich gerade eine Stimme haben will.

Ich habe zusammen gepackt, mein Ras die Klippe hochgetragen, dem lieben Strand auf wiedersehen gesagt und bin losgefahren. Hier duftet die frühe Luft herrlich und die kleinen Häuschen schmücken als bunte Punkte die Landschaft (Hier gibt es noch ein Gleichgewicht). Dann der erste Platten aber auch eine Entdeckung: Meine Reifen gehen wegen einem Metallspan im inneren der Felge kaputt. Bis zur nächsten Stadt fahre ich durch eine idyllische Landschaft und schließlich holt die Realität mich wieder ein. Wie ein Faustschlag kommt mir der Geruch entgegen, welchen die Zivilisation trägt und ein großer Fischfanghafen bedeckt das nächste Tal. Hier bekomme ich Tape, mit welchem ich meine Felge beschichte. Was für ein Glück! Kein Platten mehr. Ich quäle mich weitere 20 Kilometer den Berg hoch, dann die Abfahrt. Platten! Das erste Mal im Vorderreifen. Naja, damit wäre das auch erledigt. Also noch ein letztes Mal Schläuche kaufen und dann ab die Post. Die Berge hier sind unglaublich romantisch und ich genieße zwischen dem Bremsen und dem Treten sogar Mal die Aussicht. Der Weg frisst sich stetig in den Berg hinein, schlängelt sich durch einen Wald und erreicht den Pass: 1500 müNN, sagt zumindestens ein Schild. Ich mache eine Pause auf einem schönen Fels, mit Aussicht auf die Berge und das Meer. Dann wieder aufs Rad, nachdem mich ein paar Rennradfahrer überholt haben, denn das ist ein Ansporn. Ich trinke also meine Milch leer und …wieder ein Platten. Aber diesmal ist nur die Luft raus, doch ich entdecke etwas anderes.

Und ey. Ich habe heute meinen Reifen... nicht Schlauch, sondern den Mantel mit nem Zelt flicken gerettet xD ich fahre auf den letzten näten. Diese Insel nimmt mein Rad auseinander. Aber ich werde kreativ.

Noch einen Kilometer zu einem Tunnel, welcher den höchsten Punkt markiert und dann geht es Bergab. Ich frage einen Rennradfahrer nach dem Ring of Kerry, dieser erwidert, das kommt drauf an. Ich fahre im nach und bin falsch. Denn nach Kenmare hätte ich der Küste folgen können… so nehme ich noch einmal ordentlich Anlauf und fahre auf einen weiteren Berg. Der andere Rennradfahrer verschwindet langsam in der Ferne und nach jeder Kurve faucht mich der Wind böse an. Ich erreiche die Kreuzung und kann 12 Kilometer bergab fahren. Dann entdecke ich das Meer wieder, die Sonne scheint mir ins Gesicht und ich bin richtig. Ich folge dann dem Küstenweg und nutze die letzte Powerstunde, um gemütlich ein bisschen voran zu kommen. Ab und an halte ich, denn die Straße verläuft höher und die Aussicht wird immer und immer schöner. Vor allem liebäugeln ich mit einem kleinen Strand. Als ich dann ein letztes Mal an diesem tag halte, spricht mich ein Tscheche an, welcher in Irland wohnt. Die Straße ist gesperrt, es gab einen toten bei einem Unfall… wo ich schlafe? Das da unten ist ein Preisgekrönter Strand- nur vier Kilometer Umweg. Also los. Super Steil geht es die Klippe hinunter und das Versprechen bewahrheitet sich. Ich Liebe und Lebe in diesem Moment… ich brauche nichts. Alles passt.

Am nächste morgen radle ich alles wieder hoch. Der Weg bleibt herrlich, bis er sich in den Feldern im Nordosten der Halbinsel verliert. Dann wird es wieder random, langweilig, domestiziert und gemenschlicht. Ich radle einfach weil ich gefühlt muss und weg will, wo ich nun hinkomme. Dorf - 20km - Dorf - 40km - Dorf - 30km - irgendwann kommt die Fähre. Ich vertreibe mir die Zeit mit Gedankenspiele, träume über Situationen oder stelle mir Aufgaben, welche mir Spaß machen. Ironischer Weise besteht eine davon darin, meinen Erste Hilfe Kurs nochmal im Geiste Aufzufrischen( und im Geiste jemanden von einem Unfall zu retten). Jungs schauen mir hinterher. Ich denke jetzt nicht mehr viel. Nach zwanzig Minuten bin ich drüben, wieder aufs Rad… die Sonne glüht.

Heute Suite 👌😉

Hä?

Ich bin im Krankenhaus.

Ich hoffe mal nicht?

Polizeibericht: My name is Tobias Karnbach, I am a 24 year old student from Germany. I arrived in Dublin on Aug 16. via airplane in Dublin, with destination Belfast. There it was, when I made the decision to ultra - cycle some part of the Wild Atlantic Way. So it happened that I was just cycling from Kilrush to Kilkee, the sun was very low and the people where going home.

I cycled as always on the very left side, sitting on my bicycle and watching the passing cars carefully. Most cars were going super fast, but with good distance. The average speed was probably around 80-90 km/h. The road was narrow and framed by hedges and there was now cycle path.

Close to the top of a peak, just 2-3 km from Kilkee, the accident happened. I felt something in my backpack, pushing against my backpack. I flew over the handlebars, my bicycle got pushed underneath me. I saw the mirror of the car, it flew next to me. The car passed by, without slowing down. The driver realised the situation some hundred meters later and stoped. The driver behind her already saw the accident happing. He drove slower than the others and stopped just in time.

The women came finally running to me, screaming where I came from. I replied I was on the road all the time and she just didn’t see me. Two more people came for help, including the driver right behind her, who was a cyclist too and tried to calm down the situation. They asked me if I was alright. For some moment I could not move- I was in shock. I checked my armes and legs. I felt them and was able to move them. I took off my sleeves and my coat and jacket, to check for open and bleeding injuries. I also took off my backpack, wich protected most of my back. I was able to feel my spine, my upper body and didn’t have to much pain. The people didn’t touch me, I stood up by myself, legs shaking. I put on something warm, from times to times I had to sit again. While I was checking myself, two people called the police and the ambulance. They gave the phone to me to respond to the Officer in charge and also the para medic. They assessed the situation and told me, they would come. 50 Minutes later the ambulance arrived, another 15 Minutes later the police officers arrived. In between we were waiting in the hedges next to the road. The neighbours were also coming, surrounding me and then trying to slow down the cars. After some 15 minutes they did put up a waring triangle, wich got instantly crashed by the next car. So they decided to leave me with one guarding person and went to the next house in order to be safe. They cleaned the road, took the loose mirror, my bicycle and some plastic lying around and continued to try to slow down traffic.

When the Para Medics arrived I asked them if I need to wear a mask. They told me, only if I might have symptoms, wich wasn’t the case. They took me inside and left the place of accident in order to check me safely. The Para Medic who was in charge of me asked me for my name, my address, my arrival and about the accident. He checked my body again, cleaned the wounds and covered them. His colleague was joining. He wrote down the protocol and asked me for my contact data. When they were done, the police came in briefly, to ask me for my name, address, arrival and contact data. Again I asked the Para Medics, if I was supposed to wear a mask, what he denied.

The ambulance took me to Limerick hospital. The police took my bicycle. When we arrived in Limerick, the Para Medics checked me in, passed on all information, pointing out my arrival. I had to wait for some hours, then got checked by the doctor. He gave me painkillers and something to sleep. He ordered to xRay me and then asked me to stay in a bed at Trauma station for tonight (It was around 3.30 o´clock). Around 6 o’clock the nurse in charge asked me for my time of arrival in Dublin. They realised that I was supposed to be in a different station, in order to be quarantined. The manager came and asked me some questions. They tested me instantly and asked me to wait in a separat room. The doctor came and informed me about the Covid regulations. He asked me for blood in my urine and took a glas full. He asked me again how I ended up in Limerick and was impressed of my fast cycling. He told me I was alright and I could leave freely. When I asked what about the quarantine, he responded “ It is not for medical purpose but I should choose a place to stay for the next eight days, in order to full fill the law. And I should consider some recovering.” He asked me again to check my phone number and released me.

I took the bus (as agreed with the police and the doctor) back to Kilrush. I asked at the police station for the officer in charge and my bicycle. The officer told me, only the officer in charge has the keys and he is on patrol. I had to wait for some hours- she was supposed to call me whenever he is back. Later when I checked again, she made a phone call and got my bicycle. She also told me briefly his name, wich I forgot, since I was super exited - first time having this kind of contact with the police (usually just randomly, not formal). She told me he was off, and he would call me. She again took my number and let it double check. Then she did release me without any more instructions. I was staying at the beach for another night, in order to recover from the stress and wounds and to receive the polices phone call. When the police didn’t call, I took the doctors advice and decided to stay in Belfast.

In Belfast hatte ich dann eine sehr gesellige Zeit. Ich habe 5-6 Bücher gelesen, es gab viel Whiskey und Philosophie. Die Stimmung war gut. Auch wenn die Taten nur langsam voranschritten, war es eine sehr heilende Zeit. Es war Zeit haben.

#Irland #Northern Ireland #Bikepacking #Camping #Sunset #Traveling #Life

4 notes · View notes

phorusrhacidae · 5 years

Text

so I’m feeling like making a social media post about things

you know what really annoys me

1. When people get off the train or platform and just, stand in the center of the exit looking around

2. When people try to cut in front of everyone to get on the train

3. When people are... fake laughing or screeching like a) nothing is that fucking funny b) if some rando can tell your laughter is fake then it’s REALLY fake

4. When swedish girls say “ba” och sen hon ba, och han ba,

5. When swedish boys and young men talk, well in general but especially if they are loud and end their sentences with ...eller?? and when they wear those stupid tiny beanies that don’t cover their ears or just SIT on top of their heads like, DIE

6. Kids saying sskskskks alleyop I don’t think anyone has ever said that irl, get off the fucking vine type apps which I can’t remember the name of rn.

6.5 The general notion about how they’re “the digital natives!!11!!! 1 !” and are therefore soooo good at technology and that is why every child should have an ipad all day every day....aaaaahahah well maybe I wouldn’t have such a problem with it if it were even a little bit true but just cause they’ve been banging on an apple touch screen since day one does not mean that they are at all computer literate and guess what they are usually.... not. at all computer literate so color me.... unimpressed.

7. When people are complaining about swedish food and what passes for “asian food” here and some ding dong has to chime in with “well ACTUALLY all the asian food you’re talking about is a westernized version” we fucking KNOW everyone fucking KNOWS that but why can you get delicious versions of vietnamese/ japansese/ mexican/ whatever food pretty much anywhere else in europe and in small towns in the US and NOT in the supposed capital of scandinavia? That is what we are talking about.

8. The way swedish people (don’t) raise their children. Up until about 2nd grade they are PRECIOUS ANGELS WHO CAN DO NO WRONG AND MUST BE CATERED TO AT ALL TIMES. Once they’re like 9 years old, “eh, they can take care of themselves” (not like they got any particular supervision before that but anyway). Sorry, but schools should not be democracies. Small children want to do things like play in busy streets and play video games all day instead of going to school. What they need to be doing is learning how to read and write, regardless of whether they want to or not, so why is their input taken into account in this context? hello is everyone insane

9. How super crappy versions of the same craft supplies cost 5 times as much here or don’t even exist.

10. I like salt licorice, but it has to be a certain TEXTURE. Swedish gummies are usually either too soft or too hard, like you try to chew them and they just stick to your teeth.

11. Boring swedish dudes who are not even good looking who have smokin hot girlfriends. I’ve met a few recently and I’m so confused.

Other thoughts I’ve been having lately:

1. banked slalom. It was cool, I should have done it more, and I should have been less afraid of being flung out of the track upside down like a wet noodle. It doesn’t hurt that bad. any ideas on how to squash legitimate fears lemme know.

2. Why is all the cool gear for dudes. does a dude the same height as me really weigh that much more?? Why are the now brigade bindings in the retro colorway only mens medium and large? How are bindings different for men and women, REALLY?

3. I want to go back to mayrhofen because I could have the park mostly to myself. There was also a junior park, which was adult size features made a lil easier with ramps, etc. In sweden it seems to be either tiny literal baby park or giant terrifying I’m not supposed to be here park and nothing in between. I don’t wanna be falling all over the place and getting stuck around a bunch of way-too-serious swedish douchebros and also... just feels better embarrassing urself in front of foreigners that you’re even less likely to ever see again/who you don’t speak the same language as.

4. Had a conversation with a friend the other day and she was like “how did you get to be so confident?? You never wear makeup” confident not really, try more. not caring and full of spite. I hate. HAAAAATE the whole “doooon’t compaaaareee yourself to othersss! looove yourselllf ” just, prioritize other things. I love not spending time on makeup or skincare or clothes. like I can admire when other people do it but that doesn’t mean I have to do it. I can still snowboard regardless of my looks and whether I love myself or not so who tf cares.

5. I don’t know what to do. My procrastination at the moment is INSAAANE and I think maybe it’s because I’m a) a lazy, stupid impostor and/or b) not sure where I’m going at the moment. teaching, not teaching. it’s so good, but also it reminds me all the time why I hate swedish people, fuck ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#sweden #swedish #living abroad #thoughts #no one looks at tags anymore do they

4 notes · View notes

niemernuet · 2 years

Text

My first entry for the off-season winter sports fandom challenge. Thank you @wunderlichkind for organising everything. 😘

The first prompt is: end-of-the-season goodbyes 👋

A Great Plan

rating: T pairing: Lucas Braathen/Alex Vinatzer characters: Atle Lie McGrath, Lucas Braathen, Alex Vinatzer, Henrik Kristoffersen, Aleksander Aamodt Kilde, Giuliano Razzoli, Tommaso Sala length: 2'700 words

Summary: Apparently, Lucas has a plan to get together with Alex. Atle doubts it will work.

Atle hit the send-button, and the message appeared in a little bubble on the screen. When he looked up from his phone, he choked, and almost dropped it into his lap. "Jesus, man! I'm glad the season's about to be over. We are getting way too comfortable with each other."

Lucas pried his eyes away from the big mirror hanging on the inside of the wardrobe in their room, and looked at him with a confused expression. "What? Why?"

"Why?" Atle echoed. "Do you think I didn't just see you examine your junk as if it was a piece of cake? Do you need a few minutes to yourself?"

Lucas rolled his eyes. "No, I did not," he huffed, his attention again fully focused on his reflection. He only wore his boxer briefs, and moved like a bodybuilder in front of the mirror, flexing his biceps and turning his legs. Atle knew the look on his face though, the cogs in his brain visibly grinding until it finally burst out of him.

"I'm just not sure…", he muttered, and pulled at the waistband of his boxers once more, mustering the content that mercifully stayed hidden from Atle's gaze.

"Dude…," Atle whined between clenched teeth, and shielded his eyes with his free hand. Even though Lucas was his best friend in the world by a wide margin, they were now literally only a few inches away from the border of said friendship.

Lucas was still oblivious to his suffering, and continued regaling Atle with his sorrows. "I should have shaved before coming here," he mused. "But it's too late for that now, and I don't know if I should still do it? Like, it would be all itchy tomorrow, especially when I'm sweating under the race suit but on the other hand what if we end up somewhere tomorrow night?"

Atle fell back onto the mattress. "Oh my god!" he screamed into the pillow, finally realising what Lucas was fretting about.

"What if he's not into this old-school hairy stuff, takes one look and runs?" Lucas asked with rising despair. "Like, I'm sure if he was an older guy like Aleks he would be into it. They liked it that way in the Seventies after all. But him…I'm just not sure."

"Stop!" Atle shouted, threw the pillow away, and sat up. With a loud snap the waistband met Lucas' hips again, and he stared at Atle with wide eyes.

"I can't believe you!" Atle said, flabbergasted. "The entire. Fucking. Season from Sölden to China to here you were whining and crying. Every day I had to hear 'Did you see him smile at me, Atle?' 'Did you see the way he waved at me during the inspection, Atle?' 'Do you think he likes these sneakers, Atle?'. And now it's just about your dick?"

"It's not ab…" Lucas tried to interrupt but Atle did not let him.

"You only want your knob sucked? I thought this was about real love, man!"

"It is about real love!" Lucas cried out, and shut the wardrobe with a bang. Overcome with grief he fell down on his bed, and grabbed his sweatpants. He had one leg in the air when he paused, and put it down again.

"I just don't want anything to go wrong," he explained quietly. "I have just this one chance, one plan, and it has to work."

"You have a plan?" Atle deadpanned.

Finally, Lucas put his trousers on, his movements robotic while his eyes looked into the distance. "I'm going to ask him after the slalom. We're going to party anyway, either for me or for Henrik, so I'll just invite him along all cool. And then…"

"Dude, he's your competitor," Atle threw in. "I don't think he'll feel like partying tomorrow unless he wins."

"And then," Lucas continued louder, "I'll invite him to a beer and we'll get to talking and…"

Atle looked at his friend with raised eyebrows. "And?" he asked when Lucas gave no sign of finishing the sentence.

Lucas shrugged. "And I'll take it from there," he muttered, and put on a shirt.

"Great plan," Atle said, and his eyes almost rolled out of his head. "You couldn't speak one word to him all season without tripping over your own feet or spilling your lunch over your race suit but sure, you'll just invite him to a beer tomorrow and talk to him all casual."

"There was a cable from the camera on the ground," Lucas hissed. "And the plate was really slippery."

Atle grinned, and picked his phone up again. A new message had arrived, and he began typing another response. "Whatever you say."

Lucas muttered something inaudible, and with a sigh grabbed the remote from the table. For a while, only the French babbling from the television filled the silence in their room.

"When's dinner?" Lucas eventually asked.

"Ten minutes," Atle answered without pausing his typing.

Lucas sighed, and clicked through the menu to find the subtitles. He tried to follow the show for a moment but in the end gave up, and grabbed his own phone from the nightstand.

"Do you think Aleks…?" he began but did not finish.

Atle's thumbs were still flying over the screen. "One hundred percent."

Lucas blinked. "Huh." He opened one of the many notifications on his phone, and scrolled through the feed for a while.

"Poor Mikaela," he eventually said.

Atle shrugged. "She's only got herself to blame."

---

It was warm for this time of the year, especially in race gear, and yet Lucas' cheeks had the colour of snow. His lips were parted, his eyes unfocused and unable to grasp anything; in short, everyone who took one look at him knew immediately that his nerves were absolutely frazzled. Atle was the only person among the dozen of people crowded around the starter house on top of the mountain in Méribel though who knew what Lucas was really nervous about. He watched how Lucas went through the motions of his warm-up, his fingers visibly shaking. People mostly left him alone, the other teams because they were busy preparing for their own race, the Norwegians because they knew that during times like these, Lucas needed space. Once the first racers would throw themselves out of the gate, a switch would flip in his head, and the relentless focus and determination take over the helm. When Henrik thus walked in his direction, Atle almost jumped him, and only the rubber band wrapped around his arms and held tight by his coach kept him back.

"Don't let go yet!" the coach said, not realising the situation that was about to unfold. "Come on, once again!"

Atle pressed his lips together, and pulled at the rope, watching how Henrik stopped in front of Lucas, and cleared his throat. Lucas blinked at him, and paused his warm-up.

"Oh god," Atle muttered when he realised Henrik's intention, not knowing if he should laugh or cry. In a way it was commendable, this new approach of Henrik's. He tried to choke back his anger when he was beaten nowadays, and even reached out to his competitors and colleagues once in a while, though he still had not quite grasped all intricacies. It was a bit like having a bear at the dinner table, eating from a plate with fork and knife: it looked really, really funny but there was always a chance that things could go terribly wrong in the blink of an eye.

"Hey!" Henrik began, and straight up waved at Lucas.

"Hey…," Lucas gave back.

"Good…good luck. For today," Henrik said.

Even Lucas with his mind occupied by other things realised how much it must have cost Henrik to say this to his biggest rival for the small globe, and he managed a thin smile. "Thanks. You too."

Henrik nodded mutely, having reached the end of his small-talk-abilities.

"It was a fun season," Lucas continued in his stead.

Henrik's eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly. "Yes! It was."

Lucas blinked again and waited two seconds. "Okay," he said eventually. "See you down there."

"Yeah, see you," Henrik echoed. Lucas began to warm up again, and Henrik had halfway turned around when he spun back once more.

"If I lose, I hope I lose against you!" Henrik burst out before running out of speed. "I mean…I don't want to lose," he stuttered, "but if I had to…"

Lucas' eyes had the size of saucers as he stared at Henrik. "Thanks," he eventually managed. "And same."

Henrik nodded, and without another word he turned around, and stomped back to where his private team was waiting for him.

Atle was just about to relax a little bit, when a soft snort hit his ears.

"What a weirdo!"

The coach was wrapping up the rope, and Atle tried to judge if he was close enough to catch Lucas in case he should faint. So far he was still standing safely on his feet, though his snow-white cheeks had gotten an ashy tint, and his jaw hung somewhere around his knees.

"I'm sorry," Alex added when Lucas did not say anything, and smiled at him with all his teeth. Atle had no idea why but as always, that smile managed to turn Lucas into a dorky mess.

"I didn't want to offend your colleague," Alex said. "But that was…something."

Lucas laughed nervously, and waved aside. "It's just Henrik," he managed.

Alex' smile turned a notch brighter. "I guess so. But he's right"

Lucas sputtered as he tried to stop drooling. "Really?"

Alex nodded. "Yes. If one has to lose, it's best to lose against you." He smiled again. "I should know, because I did."

Lucas waved aside again, giving the impression that he was followed by bees. "Noooo!" he said, nothing more, and Atle started to feel embarrassed for his idiot of a friend.

Alex chuckled good-naturedly. His season had been leagues worse than Lucas' or Atle's, and he had had no chance in the competition for rookie of the year but right here and now, high above Méribel, he seemed strangely unbothered by it. Lucas might have realised it had he not been too busy making a fool of himself.

"You were good too," he said. "Like, at the Olympics and so."

"And so," Alex laughed, and Atle could see the hearts shooting out of Lucas' eyes. "Well, good luck, then!" With one last, shiny smile, Alex left his side, and strolled over to his team.

---

Atle pulled Lucas in a hug and kept him for a long while, looks and protocol be damned. His heart had skipped a beat when he had seen that dreadfully big number pop up on the big screen overlooking the arena, and for a second he had completely forgotten that he himself had won the race.

"Next season," he said, probably loud enough for Henrik to pick up but Lucas was still wearing his helmet and Atle needed to be sure that Lucas understood him. "Next season, we'll pick up where we left, you and me," he promised.

"You fucking bet!" Lucas said, though the sadness in his eyes betrayed him. "You deserve that, champ!"

Atle lost sight of him once the staff pulled the rubber panels that formed the makeshift podium over the snow, and then he was pulled in front of microphones just like another prop until his voice was hoarse and his cheeks hurt from all the smiling. The rest of the team had long packed their stuff, though most were still lingering around, talking to competitors and friends for one last time before the break when he was finally released from his duties. Lucas was standing in a group around Aleks and Sebastian, sipping on a beer.

"Congratulations!" Aleks said once Atle caught up with them, and slapped him so hard on the shoulder that he could feel his knees buckle. Bloody downhillers.

"Timon says the party's going off at the hotel," Sebastian announced as he read a message on his phone.

"Really?" Aleks asked, and looked around over the hundreds of people that still crowded the finish area.

"No," Sebastian conceded. "He begs us not to leave him alone with Henrik."

They laughed while Sebastian typed an answer into his phone.

"Tell him I'll be there in a few minutes," Lucas said. Atle looked at him sharply, and Lucas shrugged. "I need a shower anyway." The rest of the group smiled at him, and Lucas blushed under the onslaught of sympathy. He downed his beer, and picked up his backpack from the ground.

"I'm coming with you," Atle announced.

"You don't have to," Lucas tried but Atle pretended not to hear him. "It's okay. I need a shower too, and I want to go first."

Lucas snorted. "As if!"

They waved the rest of the group, and slowly made their way towards the parking lot, when someone caught Atle's eye. Lucas was deep in thoughts, probably reliving his second run, staring intently at his feet, and did not recognise the group of people they had just passed. He also did not realise that Atle had stopped until he spoke up.

"Hey, happy holidays!"

Tommaso grinned at him. "Thanks. You enjoy yours too."

"Thank you," Atle smiled, and ignored the bag of ski boots that was shoved into his knees from behind. "Will definitely do."

"Any plans?" Alex asked with his usual smile, and the heavy bag in Lucas' hands landed on the ground. Atle needed all his self-restraint not to facepalm.

"Nothing special," Lucas muttered, and bent over to pick it back up. "Just at home…at the lake…like last year."

Alex blinked. "Cool."

"Visiting family across the pond," Atle answered. The Italians nodded as silence stretched between them. Atle was about to give up when Lucas finally managed to get his tongue under control.

"Would you, Henrik's celebrating…," Lucas stammered. "Just a small party…but everyone's invited…if you want. Back at the hotel, I mean."

Tommaso and Giuliano eyed him with slight worry, probably wondering if had hit his head somewhere. They did not see Alex' smile, and the soft look in his eyes as he marvelled at the human disaster next to Atle.

"We can't," Giuliano answered curtly before Alex had a chance to say something. Lucas' face fell, and he looked even more miserable than in the moments after he had crossed the finish line the second time.

"There's a big celebration for Manny's retirement at home," Alex hurried to add. "But thanks for the invitation."

Lucas nodded dejectedly. "Sure. Maybe next time."

"Yeah."

---

Lucas' shoulders almost dragged on the ground when they finally arrived at their car, and he looked so sad that Atle did not even want to mock him anymore.

"I've heard Henrik brought Ringnes for everybody," he tried, and piled their bags into the car.

"Cool," Lucas muttered, and opened the passenger door.

"Hey! Wait a second. Guys!"

Lucas whirled around, and with his mouth hanging open watched as Alex ran full-speed past the rows of cars.

Atle bent over the bags again, pretending to search deep in the side pockets.

"I'm sorry," Alex panted as he came to a halt in front of Lucas. "About Giuliano. He's in a bad mood because of his race."

"It's okay," Lucas said. "I wasn't…" He did not finish the sentence but even from behind his backpack and through the car windows Atle could see how little it bothered Alex. His smile shone brighter than the spring sun over Méribel as he looked at Lucas.

"You know, we have something much better than a lake in Italy," he said. "We have a sea."

Lucas laughed, and awkwardly scratched his neck. "We also have a sea in Norway," he replied, and Atle wanted to throw a ski boot at his dumb face.

"Maybe," Alex said. "But ours is warm in the summer."

They both laughed at their jokes, and Atle rolled his eyes while he tried to become invisible.

"Okay, I have to give you that," Lucas conceded. They were silent for a moment, and Atle was about to stand up, and save the situation, when Alex spoke up again. This time, he sounded much more timid.

"So…would you mind if I called you sometime?" he asked quietly.

"No no no!" Lucas assured hastily. "Not at all! Really, that would be…no problem! Just…whenever."

Alex laughed nervously. "Cool!" he said. "Whenever."

"Yeah," Lucas said.

"Yeah."

They stood a little while longer until Atle could not longer hold back. He closed the hood, and startled them both back into reality.

"Enjoy your party," Alex said, and gave a little wave.

"Thanks, you too," Lucas said, and stayed glued to the spot, watching Alex walk back towards his friends, until Atle pushed him into the car.

#i've long since wanted to write something about the second and third most beautiful smiles in alpine skiing (behind odi ofc)#also atle and lucas have big sharing-a-single-braincell-energy #and in this oneshot Atle guarded it #osws fandom challenge #fanfiction #rpf #text #mine #lucas braathen #atle lie mcgrath #alex vinatzer

7 notes · View notes