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freyjafm · 4 years ago

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hi everybody ! i'm 𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐝 , but you can call me later 😉 i'm your resident virgo , an avid tea latte stan and enjoy watching too many true crime docus . i'm currently a full time student & part time worker , so i'm not always accessible , but i promise i'll get back to u in 3-5 business days ! i'll be playing new york's rising it girl , miss 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒚𝒋𝒂 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒅 herself ! under the read more below , you will find her statistics , her background , and her wanted connections ! tap that heart button 4 me to slither into your dms like an alaskan bull worm ! ps , i don't fck with discord so i don't have that . :(

freyja sayid was spotted in the fashion district adorning jimmy choo , with some airpod pros on . they’re most likely listening to wonder what she thinks of me by chloe x halle . you may know them as @FREYJA or as that aisha potter lookalike . their twenty second birthday just passed . while living in the upper east side , they’ve gained a bit of a reputation . they’re known to be cunning but on the other hand captivating . wonder if they’ll be the next person to hit the headlines . + ( freyja arm in arm with newest oil heir beau, weeks after messy break up with a prime minister’s nephew / what seems to be freyja sayid poorly sneaking out the back of a club at 4 am / what’s next for new york’s rising it girl, freyja sayid? )

𑁯໋ 𝐅𝐑��𝐘𝐉𝐀'𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒 ,

first. freyja ( named after the goddess )

middle. blaire ( named after her maternal great-grandmother )

last. sayid

dob. 19/02/99 ( 22 yo )

pob. bern, switzerland

height. 5′5 1/2

orientation. bisexual & biromantic

ethnicity. half white on her mother’s side and half malaysian on her father’s side.

parents. atalie sayid ( mother, senator for the state of new york ) and amirul sayid ( father, current deputy prime minister of malaysia )

siblings. 2 elder sisters, 2 elder brothers ( 5 in total ) all in politics in some fashion ( eg, the current mayor of a city, chief of staff to a diplomat, working under senior cabinet members, etc ! )

career claim. jennie kim ( minus ALL musical claims )

𑁯໋ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐉𝐀'𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ,

youngest daughter born to the sayid family, a powerhouse of politicians. her mother is a current sitting senator for new york and her father is the current deputy prime minister of malaysia. they met years prior, during her mother’s first term meanwhile her father was the former attorney general for malaysia, at a un gala. as much as they both were passionate and concerned about their work, love never had a timing and they were married the following year. all the siblings have relatively normal age gaps ( the most being 4 ) but freyja was a bit of a surprise, and the only sibling in her early twenties. the rest are in their thirties, with her eldest sister nearing forty soon. that, paired with the fact freyja showed zero interest in politics, allowed them to have a rather hollow and strained relationship. she has a somewhat stable and semi-consistent relationship with her older sister, the second youngest, but they don’t meet very often due to work. they often treated her like the ultimate downfall of the sayid family.

growing up, money and the likes clearly weren’t a problem. as a child, she’d tag along often with her mom or dad ( rarely ever both ) and occasionally with a sibling, and hated anything that wasn’t sweet, glittery, or one of a kind. helping with campaigns were boring in freyja’s eyes and she’d often sneak away to go doodle in the bathroom walls or play on her blinged out, pink nintendo ds. needless to say, this was never going to be her jam. her parents role in her life was rather inconsistent, but not on purpose. it was mainly work-related, so she was taken care by a few trusted nannies and butlers. her siblings all moved out by the time freyja was finishing up elementary school, she was used to being alone.

not much else is known of freyja ( everything was p chill ) until she enters high school. she enrolls into a private and elite boarding school in europe and instantly becomes a hybrid ; both the social butterfly and the queen bee. the sudden attention she receives and the feeling of having people under her thumb sets her heart on fire. she adores this, loves it even. she gets what she wants with a bat of her bambi eyes or a little whine, but no one really can say no to her. beauty and power go hand in hand, and freyja sayid masters it by age fifteen. while it was a boarding school, her parents purchased an estate for freyja to stay at instead nearby with her nannies and butlers and security. what that meant to freyja ? throw the sickest summer parties before school started and the best holiday get togethers the first week of winter break ( before she inevitably flies off in a private jet with her friends to a sayid family owned villa near the alps ) and she began drinking / smoking early on. the world was this giant oyster and freyja the pearl. graduated with honors as valedictorian and prom queen, voted ‘ most likely to rule the world ‘ and oh, how she is coming so close.

after graduating, she spent a few years travelling and partying with friends. she spent less and less time with family, only for formal events or re-elections or other boring shit she didn’t give two cents about. most of the time she showed up stoned to pass the time away. most of her antics were able to be paid off by her family to save themselves some embarrassment, but sometimes ( notably about a rumored new beau or leaving the club at ungodly hours ) would slip onto tabloids. and yes, her pr manager is 100% always stressing out over freyja.

her influence over value was noticed by brands by age 19, when something she wore was sold out as soon as the pictures of her in it went viral. by 20, she was soon modelling for major brands and received early invitations to attend fashion week for brands like gucci, saint laurent, and chanel. dubbed ‘ human gucci ‘ and ‘ human chanel ‘ due to her fashion sense. hairpins that she sported one spring went viral and were soon known as ‘ freyja’s hairpins ‘ , a huge tell tale sign of her powerful influence over value and selling power. had modelled for magazines such as vogue ( internationally, too ) / harper’s bazaar / marie claire / elle / high cut / w / cosmopolitan / and billboard. currently, the face of ‘ hera ‘, a south korean luxury brand, the house ambassador for chanel, collabed with samsung to release a limited edition version of a phone with her signature color ; red, known as ‘ freyja’s red ‘. recently, she has worked as an editor for her latest magazine release ( feb’ 21 for vogue ) and last year, released a collaboration with ‘ gentle monster ‘ , a south korean luxury eyewear brand, and was just named as the face for a popular liquor brand in sweden. she is taking a small break until summer to give her some time to breath with a hectic life before she goes back into working. basically, her face is like everywhere.

a jealous, vindictive sort of bitch. wants what other people has because she wants to see how far the world will bend for her and because she knows she can have it. has cheated with partners before, though it has toned down a bit now. will flirt and mess with someone, not caring if they are in a relationship or talking to someone. often goes viral for ‘ sitting pretty ‘ and really loves being at the dead center of the spotlight. at the same time, the void of being ‘ abandoned ‘ by family makes her extremely loyal to friends ( yes, she picks sides after friendship and romantic breakups ) and her chosen family. will go to the end of the world for them, often spoils them with matching jewelry or shirts to go on cute dates together. bad day ? she’ll get a lift over, make you pack, and head to the sayid family jet to go wherever you want to go. a good ally to have, a terrifying enemy to have.

𑁯໋ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐉𝐀'𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ,

something based on ‘ drivers license ‘ lyrically by olivia rodrigo .

something based on ‘ gone ‘ lyrically by roseanne park .

something based on ‘ love somebody ‘ lyrically by lauv .

something based on this gifset . ( 🎐 ) [ other : i just . . love this and want it . HDHDH the bond can be figured out beforehand ! ]

something based on this post . ( 🍶 ) [ other : most likely something toxic or angsty ! ]

something based on this post . ( 🍈 ) [ other : childhood or friends attempting to test the waters with something new ?? PHEW ! ]

down for anything not on here ! let me know if freyja fits anything of yours, a brand new idea that could just work, and any of the more ‘ basic ‘ plots !

#، 𓂅 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒚𝒋𝒂 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒅 ⟆ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 . ɞ #wealthyhq:intro

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duckbeater · 5 years ago

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People Think You’re Really into Church

My friend Neely also recently underwent a breakup, a hardship she finds comparable to something like a botched surgery. “I’m actually physically sore all the time now,” she said, “and I feel ugly.”

She had moved to L.A. for Luis. At first they only fought about money. Her work (she reports, irregularly, for the Times there) made them fight about other things too, like the environment and homelessness and certain irredeemable publicly-funded architectural projects. So they broke up.

“It’s weird, but I found out I have all this aggression that I thought was passion. ‘I’m very passionate about housing rights,’ you know? That’s something I would say to myself in the car. But Luis said I didn’t cultivate passion, I just stoked anger, and the anger was in me. Now he won’t even be friends with me. He doesn’t want to be friends with angry people. He says I wreck his vibe. I can respect that. But I don’t really know anybody else in L.A.”

I commiserarated. I didn’t really know anybody else in Chicago—why I was Facetiming Neely at her job. She was in some desert glen, a canyon perhaps, resplendent in bee whites, her veil open but still sun-shaded, so the contrast made it seem like I had a Stormtrooper on the line. I never quite got the full story on her apiary jaunts, but apprarently she was working (probably volunteering) at some sort of bee farm (bee non-profit?) and that day was painting the tops of Langstrop hives a viciously marigold yellow.

I didn’t know anyone in Chicago, I offered before averring, “I am, though... I’m having more sex than I’ve ever had in my entire life.” Not that I really knew these people, either, I explained. Not even their names. They were often wonderful, attentive, breathy, dashing, fashionable, curious, age-appropriate and obsequiously grateful men—and I knew them as either single letters (J) or emoji (rain drop, hand)—but had declined follow-up encounters just as surely as I’d declined remembering full names and taking down full phone numbers.

“You don’t want them to know you’re an angry person,” she said.

“I don’t want them to know I’m...” But actually that was it. Wow. I was furious. All the time. I was so piping-hot full of fucking anger, so lunatic with rage, I was spending a visible part of my commute crying in the car listening to music now. I hardly ever listen to music. I don’t like how music makes me feel, how it sucks at my feelings, and embellishes them, like tequila. Now I depended on it, at 6:30 a.m., to wreck me into a tantrum. So here I was, doing “Knee 5” by Philip Glass and Robert Wilson off the Einstein on the Beach recording, sobbing as soon as the baritone steps in to sing:

two lovers sat on a park bench with their bodies touching each other holding hands in the moonlight there was silence between them so profound was their love for each other they needed no words to express it

That image alone—of lovers, a park bench, the stupid moonlight—and the lovers’ silence, it brought me to a boil. I argued with the song. SILENT AFFECTION IS SENSELESS AND DOESN’T SUSTAIN ANYONE. LANGUAGE DOESN’T MAKE LOVE. LOVE IS MADE BY ACTIONS. IT IS IMPORTANT TO BE SPECIFIC AND ACTIVE WHEN YOU LOVE SOMEONE. The song didn’t care. Maybe it even agreed. Regardless, I was arriving to my building’s parking garage an hour later, so depleted by disgust and anger and impotence, by the feeling of complete failure, of five years destroyed, of my youth and beauty corroded, of the hackneyed cliché of my entirely normal situation, that I’d sit barking out sobs under the concrete ramps in the dark, until it was safe to stagger inside. What surprised me was that I hated it. I hated him. There was this new person in my life (despite the relative lack of people), and that person lived in my car and made a striking, humorless, dramatic and painful cacophony. I left him there, parked, every day, then inhabited him for the hour and half commute back home.

“People think you’re really into church now,” said Neely, “because of all your Instagram posts in churches.”

“Oh yeah,” I said. “I’m not. Into church.” I had been going to churches a lot. To sit in them, and to sit through services, and to meekly sing. “I like them though,” I conceded. “I like that they’re the very beautiful and very quiet.”

“You can like church, you know,” she said. Luis and Neely were a part of the Catholic Relief in South Bend, IN, their senior years, and lived among the Brothers and other devout volunteers for a time, until falling in love. They served meals together to the homeless, and volunteered on home-builds and river cleanups, and rock-climbed with the city’s under-served youths. I let them live rent-free for a few months at 1269 Woodward when it became untenable for them to try to keep fucking in what was essentially a gender-segregated Catholic co-op. She said, “For me, I’m not really, specifically into church right now, or prayer, but I’m really into everyday intentions, you know? Energy in the world.”

“Thank you,” I said, “I’m really not into that either. You don’t—we don’t—need to do—please let’s not with ‘thoughts and prayers,’ if that’ okay?”

“But!” shouted Neely, laughing, “You have all my thoughts! Aww!”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“And with all the sex you’re having, maybe going to church is okay?”

“It’s definitely a prophylactic: I’ve not gotten pregnant one time. And the STIs—I can feel em’ just, falling away.”

Neely keeps her hair in two thick brown braids. She has freckles and ears that slightly stick out, and until very recently, confusingly, a top-row of braces that I’ve also never bothered to ask about. Women with braces in their late-20s (besides giving off that extreme Parker Posey-vibe) have always projected an air of fearless unconventionality to me, despite braces being, obviously, an expensive and prescriptive and primarily cosmetic ordeal. When she was thinking, she still touched her teeth as though they were braced.

“What are you doing with your anger now?” I asked.

“I’m giving it to the valley, you know?”

While scrutinizing her face I nonetheless forgot we were doing Facetime so she could see my consternation, which was radical.

“I give it to the valley, Evan! To the bees and the flowers and the arroyo and the brush!” She laughed at me. “I can’t figure out what to do with it. I was listening to myself on the phone with my mom the other night, and had this overwhelming sense that she hated who I’d become. Because I’d become this poor, boring person who just wanted to find shelters for 60,000 Americans, and implement a needle exchange program, and super-charge our food pantries, and develop a network of affordable health care services and career prep classrooms for families on hard times—and the obviousness of this, the obvious good need of this, of caring for my brothers and sisters, and seeing them warm and fed and safe, it was so stupid and boring and strange to her, because it was so impossible, and so we ended up spending like the next forty-five minutes talking about my sister’s big Fucking Expensive STUPID WEDDING!” On this crescendo she added an “AAAAAHHHHH!”—really giving her anger to the valley. “AAAAHHHH! It’s like, the things I know I could do, like write about these things, I can’t pay myself to focus on. I feel very... young,” she said, choosing the word carefully.

“I feel very, very old, Neely,” I said. Then I said something that surprised me: “I feel as though I am too old to have sons, now, that I’ve poisoned my timeline.”

“Your dick! Seems to work! Just fine!” she sing-songed.

“I think I mean that I had thought I had the family I was building. I had spent five years working toward the place where I could have a son. Or a daughter. I’m not sure what brazen sexist impulse keeps me making these patrician claims. I had thought I was coming home every night to this... place... condo, I guess... where the next day or the next year, I knew held greater peace. More success. Manageable strife, if ever strife.”

“You can start that again,” said Neely.

“I can start that again. And develop it over the next five years again, so I’m past forty when I’m a father, and an old man when my son starts his own family, and a burden,” I added, to seem more pitiable than I actually felt. (Or anyway to acknowledge how pitiable I was sometimes feeling.)

“I want to give some of your anger to the valley,” she said, “before I have to hang up. Gimme a little of that sweet sweet anger.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“No no, lemme have just a teaspoon. Let me whisper something to the valley.”

I thought for a moment and then said: “I’m mad that I’ve stopped liking kissing.”

“Evan is”—and she whispered this part—“mad that kissing’s no good no mo’. What else?”

“I’m mad that I don’t have a parking tag for my neighborhood.”

“No place to park,” whispered Neely.

“I’m mad that in addition to moving into a tower-garret-studio-apartment, with a broken towel rod and busted dishwasher, I left the cat, I left what feels like a piece of my soul, and I can’t hold that part of my soul anymore, and that part of my soul was the patient part, the part that could read in place for hours and sleep uncomfortably and carry heavy things.”

“Needs a new cat,” said Neely to the valley.

“I’m not getting a new fucking cat.”

“Needs a new soul,” said Neely.

We considered the silence that followed. The valley was quiet. My office was quiet. “Ugh,” I said, and snorted.

Neely’s bonnet fluttered back to reveal her wide forehead and braids. “That wind!” she laughed.

And indeed, I thought I had hated Neely’s valley thing, but then I did not listen to any music on the drive home.

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royvelasco · 6 years ago

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Exploring Nami Island and More of South Korea in a Day with Klook!

Finally, the day has arrived for me to use my Korean visa! I immediately applied for it months ago when I found out that I’ll be exempted with the financial document requirements using my credit card (Click HERE to find out how). And it’s not just for a single entry; I can go back to South Korea anytime I want in a span of three years! It means that I can still experience more of Korea despite of this quick weekend getaway.

My trip to South Korea was very spontaneous. My brother messaged me on Facebook telling me that he was able to score cheap roundtrip tickets to Seoul for the two of us and asking me if I can accompany him to this trip. I was overseas that time and was about to go back to Manila after a week-long travel to Myanmar and Thailand so another travel plan for the coming months was surely a great idea. I excitingly approved to his plan. But for only 3 days, how can we maximize our stay?

Probably one of the most iconic destinations Korea has is this wonderful half-moon shaped island located about two hours away from Seoul. Nami Island is a must visit for tourists especially for K-Pop fans as it served as a shooting location for some well-known K-dramas such as Winter Sonata. I am not a fan and haven’t watch a single K-drama but seeing the beautiful pictures online of this island made me include this destination on our itinerary.

Since we were constraint in time (and unfortunately, it was continuously raining that day), booking an organized trip beforehand was a great decision. We went with Klook which we have been using for the longest time already. I actually have tried booking with them on their early years when I purchased our Hong Kong Disneyland ticket way back 2015. It was the cheapest I could find online and the process in redeeming the ticket onsite was hassle-free. Since then, Klook has been my “buddy” for most of my travels. ;)

Booking with Klook is just very easy. Just go to their site at www.klook.com, select the destination then choose your desired activities and items. Select the date and package quantity then you can go ahead with the payment. You can also download their mobile app for more convenience. Make sure to create an account so you can have access to amazing discounts they offer from time to time. As a welcoming gift, create your account HERE and get HK$25 off as soon as you sign up.

The tour that we booked was for a full day visit to four of South Korea’s most popular attractions outside the capital. We found it the most worthy as we could be able to visit a lot in just a matter of day. The included destinations are interesting as well and picturesque enough to make your Instagram feed flooded with loves.

Good thing our hostel was just around Myeongdong as the pickup point was on one of its subway exits. We easily found our driver and we were immediately escorted to the car that we’ll be using for the whole day. I was quite surprised as it turned out to be a semi-private tour with only four of us in the group, two being me and my brother and the other half If I’m not mistaken were a couple from Malaysia. It was indeed a comfortable ride with more than enough legroom you could expect from a car and it also came with a complimentary bottle of water.

Garden of Morning Calm

Those who love nature will surely be amazed with our first destination for the day. The Garden of Morning Calm is a 30,000 square meter garden located at Gapyeong district, just east of Seoul. Considered to be one of the most beautiful gardens in the country and has also been a K-drama site, the Garden of Morning Calm houses an array of flowers and plants beautifully landscaped to spread the concept of Korean beauty to the world.

The Garden of Morning Calm has various themed gardens connected through scenic walkways. Beautifully maintained plant arrangements and flower beds can be seen all throughout the place. The garden has about 5,000 kinds of plants of which some are native to the Korean Peninsula.

For the picture-perfect shot bursting with colors, one must visit on their springtime when the flowers are in full bloom. The garden is busy though during that period so have patience to get that desired shot. Don’t worry if you can’t come on springtime as the Garden of Morning Calm is still beautiful and open for public whatever the season is. Various festivals and displays are also held throughout the year.

Nami Island

We went to our second destination right after lunch (which by the way was already included on the package). I could say that Nami Island was definitely the highlight of the trip.

This beautiful small island in the middle of Han River is a famous destination for tourists as it offers that K-drama feels we just normally see on screen. With trees tall enough to occupy the lens of your camera and its orange leaves during autumn, it would surely be a magical shot screaming K-drama in every angle.

Unfortunately, we were there on springtime thus not seeing this picturesque scene. But nothing to depress about, as Nami Island is still as beautiful as it is whatever the season is. Trees were in full bloom that time with overly saturated greens everywhere. Colorful flowers can also be seen throughout the island. Delightfully, animals such as rabbits and squirrels were freely roaming around.

Petite France

After a decent amount of hours of stay in Nami Island, off we went to our next destination which was Petite France. It is a French-style theme park with a small replica of Eiffel Tower. You’re hitting two birds in one stone by being here as you can be both in Korea and France. ;)

As projected, this theme park consists of French-style buildings painted with different colors connected through stairways and alleyways. This place seems to be dedicated as well to puppetry and the famous French novel “Le Petit Prince” internationally known as “The Little Prince”. Various images depicting these were scattered around the village-themed park.

Don’t worry if you get hungry as there are restaurants nearby. For cheaper options, a coffee shop and a convenience store are located just across the street.

Gangchon Rail Park

We were already bound for our last destination for the day but our excitement was still soaring as we were about to make it a lil’ bit extreme. Our next destination was more than picture-taking; we need to muscle up and ready our tired feet (not complaining) as we will be biking along the countryside.

Gangchon Rail Park is also now considered a must visit if you’re here in South Korea. One needs to cycle along the old train track using a two or four-seat bike passing through tunnels and rocky roads while seeing the amazing scenery of the countryside.

Honestly, this activity exceeded my expectation. It might sound tiring but it’s actually fun. The cold breeze as you bike and the astounding view of the surroundings will ease the weary away. I’m glad that we took the package that includes Gangchon Rail Park.

It was dark already when we’re done with the tour. We were able to get back to Seoul around 9PM. It was indeed a fun day full of exciting activities. The places we went to were all remarkable making me want to visit them all again on my next visit. I was so pleased as well with our tour and will still book through Klook on my next travels. For sure, I’ll be here longer the next time and will check out other exciting activities South Korea and Klook have to offer.

Book your tours through Klook for quality experiences at the best price. If you want to try the same tour that we had, click HERE to book.

DISCLAIMER: Details like prices, contact information, etc. may change due to different factors. Feel free to comment down below for updates.

NOTE: I own all the images used on this blog post unless otherwise stated. Please don’t use these for any purposes, unless you acknowledge the owner. Thank you.

#Travel #South Korea Travel #Seoul Travel #Nami Island Travel #Blog 2018 #South Korea 2018 #Seoul 2018 #South Korea #Seoul #Klook

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5hfanfiction · 7 years ago

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Seasons - Chapter 04

Summer: Arriving at Camp Half-Blood

Lauren’s POV

That old car’s back seat might not be the best places to sleep, and the vehicle’s unloads was probably broken, sounding annoyingly. But I’ve slept through something worse in worse situations. Welcome to Jauregui’s world, a demigod who was happy to sleep for a few hours in the back seat of a car.

Of course, it wasn’t part of my plans to be here in the middle of a totally improvised escape, rescuing what I considered the most clumsy human being on Earth. My main purpose was to get back to Miami, survive on my way, but only go back to Camp Half-Blood in early summer. But, of course, destiny had no generous plans for me.

I woke up hungry after all; I barely touched the previous night’s pizza. Apparently, Cabello loved it and I preferred to leave my second piece to become her fourth. A small pleasure that she would not have again. No, I’m not a bad girl, not to the point of not having considered the turnaround that that little girl was going through. She even had a normal life, until cross our path the day before and come across a dumb Laistrygonian, but strong enough to hit me one time or another.

I knew something was going on. Not something else, something big. I was feeling it throughout the month and had tried to alert Dinah. But it was useless, the surprise almost burst in our faces in catching off guard and forcing us to run away with our tail between our legs. However, if something was going on, involved that latina girl. A “old” demigod unclaimed, who dominated hellhounds with voice command. I never really cared about Camila Cabello, not more than enough to send Dinah have an eye on her, taking advantage of the friendship of the two of them.

“She is cute even sleeping.” I heard Camila’s voice.

I almost frowned, giving my waking state. My eyes closed, lost in my daydreams, probably still appearing to be in deep sleep. But just now I listened as they spoke.

“Lauren isn’t as bad as she looks,” Dinah said gently “She’s just a girl who had to grow very fast”

Almost I rolled my eyes, I hated those things that Dinah was talking about me. It was as if at any moment I could be fragile. And I wasn’t, I couldn’t be. If I was, I would be killed at any time. Yes, I fought for everything, fought with the world if it was necessary and thought right. If life wanted to screw me, it would be extremely difficult!

“I wanted her to be more… easy to talk to.” I heard Cabello said hesitant. “Surely I would have a lot of questions to ask her”

“Forget it Mila, Lauren is difficult anyway”

“Could you both stop talking about me?” I decided to intervene getting annoyed. “And go take care of your problems”

I sat, staring Camila, who was still looking at me from the front seat. She shivered, looked away quickly and shrugged. I was pleased, cause this to her has always been an advantage. However, unlike what Dinah said, my logic of life was simple enough: to attack before being attacked. It was working so far, so it seemed a good strategy.

“Where are we?”

“In any city in South Carolina, at dusk we arrive at least in Virginia.” Dinah said looking a little to the side and into the sky. Camila looked at her in a funny way and the tall brunette laughed. “Traveler god’s daughter, remember? I always know where I am. And not all of us develop it”

“Now that’s useful, you would never get lost”

I had to agree with Cabello, which was a rare thing to happen. Dinah Jane was a prodigy daughter of Hermes. Quick and very agile despite her size, she had a wordy easily deceived human, and has a natural talent for stealing and never lose her way.

“Let’s stop to eat something and I’ll borrow some clothes from a shop around.” Dinah decided and smiled platter.

“No way, Hansen!” I yelled when I saw her smile. “If you come to me with a Hello Kitty t-shirt I shove it down your throat!”

Dinah burst into a laugh. It was about two years we were partners, or friends, never did define the point where something turned in the other. The fact was that we were going to camp together and we lived nearby, quickly learned to survive with someone increased the chances of success than to live alone in a way where monsters wanted to devour you. Literally.

Hermes’ daughter parked the car in front of a simple diner, followed always talking to Camila, as I preferred to stay a little further back, not paying any attention in the dialogue between them. I ordered the most expensive burger and fries, along with a lime soda. I was just addicted to lemon things. Sometimes I saw Camila seemed distant, with that look of someone who had just drastically change life. So it was in those times when Dinah pulled any conversation to distract the girl. This time she told about her numerous half brothers and sisters human, her human mother had with another human. I knew Dinah had run away from home to avoid any of them hurting, but I also knew that she still loved them with all the forces and not forgotten.

I wish I could say that to my family.

“Here the money I got last night,” Dinah said taking the money out of pocket. “And while I’ll arrange some things, you could go in any supermarket to buy groceries and some basic things. I can’t go taking everything from everywhere or be caught at some point. I’m good but I’m not even a ninja”

“Can I go with you?” Camila asked sly, great, I didn’t want to stick with her.

“Mila, I’m sorry, but you would end up holding me back, I need to be quick to not be noticed,” Dinah said carefully and opened a huge smile. “But later I give you some basic tips, you will need one day”

“Let’s go” I said finally.

I got up taking the money and going on the counter pay for the things. Dinah came out with a huge smile and whistling as if it was the amusement park. Her side kleptomaniac it was very amused with these parts. Then left for Camila and me follow to the nearest supermarket and do basic shopping that Dinah asked. I was quiet despite seeing Camila’s unrest that followed beside me at a safe distance. I knew she wanted to ask something, or simply break the silence that I imposed.

But when it came to Camila Cabello, every care was becoming little. After all, who would be that girl? An unclaimed almost sixteen, clumsy and had tamed a hellhound, one of the ferocious beasts that the king of the underworld loved. She could be a danger in the future, for my survival instincts screamed that. I was lost in my thoughts until I hear a noise, immediately look to the side just in time to see that Camila had stumbled and began to fall forward onto the floor. Without thinking, I reached my arm grabbing her and pulling her toward me, preventing her from falling on the white floor and a little dirty place.

“You’ll gonna kill yourself someday.” I noticed promptly.

“I don’t doubt it,” the brown-haired girl gasped with fright. “But thanks anyway”.

She was close. Dangerously close enough for me to feel the smell of her and I knew it was natural, since she couldn’t have used fragrance in the middle of our escape. It was a scent of flowers, a spring like touch that seemed to bear fruit a strange effect on me. I let her while puffing, turning to push the cart thinking that I was right. She was a glaring sign of confusion. I focused my attention on the flashlights in front of me, trying to read the yellow notes the details on it. But my reading is never or would be good.

“You have difficulty reading too?” Camila questioned by my side.

“Most of us do. Our genes were trained to read old things. Incredibly, it may appear something written in Greek and we know what it means,” I explained without giving much importance, choosing the silver flashlight just because I thought the orange one is too large. “Hyperactivity is also common. We can’t stand still because we aren’t born to stand still. We’re warriors. Or at least most of us, you’re far from it”

“I know that, but you didn’t need be stressing it all the time.” Cabello grumbled pouting without realizing it.

“You can learn to improve, that’s why there’s the Camp Half-Blood.”

I pushed the cart to the area of cereal bars, it wasn’t tasty, but they were small, nutritious and could break the branch in moments of suffocation. I saw Camila attempts to try to start a conversation, but I ignored her. The less involved with someone, the better. Another life lesson I would never forget.

[…]

We arrived in New York next morning. Tired of staying inside an uncomfortable moving vehicle. Dinah and I drive all the way, as Camila and couldn’t drive. Believe me, I thought I’d go crazy in that car! Those two couldn’t stop talking at any time! Dinah knew how to respect my quiet way, but Camila? She was so annoying!

Why would I want to know what was the most handsome one in a boy band of the moment? Or what Ed Sheeran’ music was better? Or why shouldn’t watch horror movies because they’re terrifying? This wasn’t obvious? In fact, Camila loved the gayest boy, she like Lego House and romantic comedies. Unnecessary information about a person I did not want to keep in touch.

“We’re arriving on Long Island!” I yelled almost a sigh of relief. “Dinah, hurry up!”

It was late afternoon, the traffic didn’t cooperate much. When the hills started appearing, I was more attentive and more serious. Dinah slowed, also taking a more serious approach.

“Something happened?” Camila realized the tension settled.

“There are always monsters here.” Dinah said without taking her eyes off the road.

“R-really?” Cabello stammered wincing in fear.

“The place where is the camp isn’t really a secret, at least the base area, they’re not able to get there. But nothing prevents them try to eat in the middle” Dinah concluded.

We were close. No sign that something strange was going to happen and it was there where danger lived. I was extremely uncomfortable, as if I knew something was to come and didn’t know what to say. My instincts were screaming it. Then a huge shadow passed over us and Camila cried. Dinah braked sharply and turned the wheel, making the car slid down the road and almost overturning, coming to slightly raise the side and fall time with the weight of gravity. I was thrown to the ground, as I wasn’t wearing seat belts. I didn’t say there was something strange?!

I opened the door abruptly, jumping out of the car finally seeing an entire tree was thrown on the road. I searched in my pocket my black lighter and activated. The small object turned into a silver sword, your weight is perfect for my management. Dinah and Camila went right after me, Dinah with her silver dagger in hand.

“Oh my God, what’s that?!” Camila cried in despair.

It’s not God, Camila. Gods. Because if the Christian God exists, he hasn’t the slightest bit of mercy on us. The ground began to shake with every step that huge figure approached. About six meters tall, humanoid body, decomposed and torn clothes. Barely hair on the head, but that part of the body that most attracted attention was his only eye. In one of his hands, the monster had a wooden stick of proportional size to your body. He approached a fast pace, making us away instinctively.

“Cyclops!” Dinah exclaimed when he finally saw the best monster.

“DJ, take Cabello and go to the Camp” I said taking a deep breath.

“But Laur…”

“NOW DINAH!” I cried hard with her.

Dinah held a frightened Camila and began to drag her into a forest that predated the hill where lurked the Camp Half-Blood. The cyclops observed the movement and his pace and I advanced. Blood flowed quickly in my veins, my heart bombarding an adrenaline I needed for that battle.

“Here you stupid big one” I yelled to get his attention.

“Demigod!” he cried through dumbfounded.

“Why the monsters has no brain?” I grumbled to myself, despite having to thank for that.

“I’ll eat yours!”

He went down the cudgel in vertical and direct blow. I threw my body to the side and spun twice, seconds after the wooden gun hit the ground with such force that split on impact. If I was there, would probably have been crushed. I got up and ran again toward the monster, my right hand firmly holding the handle of the sword, while the left pointed to the ground. I felt that vibration known when I started using a particular skill. Air currents passed through my body, stirring and mixing up to my command. When I was a meter away from the giant monster, I manipulated the air and did push my body up. The feeling I gave was that I would be flying, when in fact all it was to have some control of air currents. When I reached the cyclops shoulder height, I dug the blade of my sword, screaming with the effort of hit it altogether. The monster howled in agony and began to move. I grabbed with both hands the sword and let an electric shock escaped the sword, hitting the monster and causing more damage.

But despite my brilliant attack, that was not enough to bring it down. The cyclops staggered, moaned in agony, but his huge right hand took my body as if I was a stick. He squeezed hard, starting to literally crush me. My sword was stuck on him like a thorn. I couldn’t help screaming and trying to debate me furiously to try to drop me. I couldn’t die here, I won’t die here! Not like that, not for a stupid monster of those! The air around me started to get rough, my anger began to leave the increasingly charged time. But despite all this, I felt my ribs started cracking and blistering pain through my whole body.

“Bastard!” I shouted.

I wasn’t planning on a strategy in itself. I let lightning all over my body, giving shocks all over his hand. It hurt me, use as many lightning at the same time. But my basic purpose worked. Soon the grip was loosened sharply … But I was still at a height of six meters from the ground! The laws of physics were clear, soon I began to fall without concentration or energy to handle the winds. Shit, hopefully I would break some bones and would be in a coma for a few days! This is the monster does not trample me in the middle of the way! I was about to reach the ground when something went flying by my side, holding my aching body, but preventing the impact.

“Gotcha Laur!”

That voice caused me profound relief. Zayn was there, mounted on a real grayish Pegasus, like a true Prince Charming to save the maiden. Shit, I’d be disturbed because of that in the future. But the half-blood wasn’t alone. Forest, Apollo’s children archers began to shoot arrows into the monster, being led by Allyson. To the left, Ares’ children, the god of war, advanced and I could recognize Wes and Keaton between them.

“Fly up, we hit him up!” I told Zayn, already seated correctly on the winged horse croup.

“Laur, you’re hurt” Zayn warned.

“I won’t run from the fight!”

I was quite exhaustive. I searched my pockets and there was my lighter. I thanked mentally to who invented it, because that item ALWAYS returned to my pocket after a while. Arrows hit the cyclops in the arms, chest and legs. Ares’ children laughed as they mistook the monster, hitting him in the heel, digging spears feet. For them it was fun. Zayn made the Pegasus flew to the top, so when we were about two meters above the cyclops, I straightened my body, became my lighter sword and screamed as loud as I could.

“Hey ugly thing!”

The cyclops looked up by pure reflex. Then I jumped. I held my sword with the blade down and as I fell, moving my body to be able to hit exactly where I wanted. My sword nailed a second time that monster, but this time the blade was stuck in his one eye. The cyclops screamed loudly and staggered back. Ares’s children attacked his legs, arrows were also shot. Soon, the huge monster six meters and one eye, producing almost fell back a small earthquake with its fall. I held all the time in my sword, following his decadent movement, supporting the feet in large and oily nose.

Then he dissolved into gold powder. That was how the monsters died, were transformed into gold dust and returned to the depths of Tartarus. When he disappeared, my body and my sword fell to the ground. Again, Zayn came to my side, wrapping an arm around my waist to support my body.

“You always come bringing confusion.” Zayn said, but smiled. “Welcome back, Laur”

“Confusion… confusion is my middle name.” I barely said, even breathing was hurting at the moment.

Zayn laughed. He was the closest I had to best friend, a black-haired boy, lightly tanned skin and incredible creativity. Hephaestus’s son, a terrible jokester. But he was probably the only person I trusted most in this world.

“We need to take her to the wand.” Ally Brooke approached, her bow was already back.

“Yes, Doctor!” Zayn agreed with his good mood.

Ally was the leader of the ward, her stature was rewarded by the size of her talent with the bow and healing, especially healing. Apollo’s daughter, was one of the kindest girls I knew, but my compliments stopped around, because I really didn’t know that girl. Zayn put me in Pegasus to prevent had to carry me or even if I had to walk. I was grateful, but before I hand over the pain I was feeling, I could question:

“Dinah and Cabello were able to reach the camp?”

“It was Dinah who warned us, with a thin scared latina girl, I think this should be Cabello” Zayn answered.

I let out a relieved sigh. Mission accomplished, now I might pass out peacefully.

#UPDATE #series #AU #camren #caminah #laurinah #action adventure #submission #Seasons

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suitcasetales · 4 years ago

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A Whole Lotta Shakin’ Going On

What can I say? It is 2020 after all. With two trips cancelled and one of those cancelled a second time, we have been doing nothing but working, walking Cokie, saving money and (me) banking a lot of vacation time at work. With infection rates steamrolling in the wrong direction and a lot of folks’ behaviors and mask wearing circling the drain, the chances of any international travel for 2020 looks hopeless.

We both wanted to do something.....anything to get away for a change of scenery and so we began combing the internet trying to find an available beach house somewhere not too far away. On June 29, we lucked in to this one.....available and offering a 10% discount due to several available upcoming weeks and no surcharge for bringing along Fido. Sold! Even if we had never been to Emerald Island....sold! Even if we were four or five blocks from the ocean.....sold! Even if there was no swimming pool....sold! Booked, paid for and without travel insurance, we thought we were safe. And then there was talk of a tropical storm turning into a hurricane and coming up the east coast. Great. Thanks again 2020.

I am out of practice writing my blog but since Emerald Isle is a new destination for us, I thought I would share our experience. Emerald Isle is one of many barrier islands on the coast of North Carolina. Due to the curve of the coastline, when you are on the beach staring at the waves (as one does), you are actually looking south. We are very near “The Point” where the island ends, the ocean waves flatten and the Bogue Inlet turns into the Banks Channel. From the top floor of our rental home, we can see the ocean and the channel.

We three joined the parade of folks walking out on The Point one evening for the sunset, a very popular thing to do here!

It is not like we had a choice because this was the only small (relatively) house available but we think we really lucked out being on this end of the island. Our neighborhood appears to have a lot of year-round residents so it is quiet and very well cared for with beautiful landscaping. There is a shady public pathway from our neighborhood to the beach.

We see turtles, frogs, rabbits and several deer on our walks (or in our driveway).

We experienced some of the other part of Emerald Isle when out for dinner. So I can’t stress enough how much we would recommend this end of Emerald Isle....and not so much the main area. The two areas are very different.

The beach itself suffered a lot of damage and erosion thanks to Hurricane Florence in September 2018 and restoration work is ongoing but where we have been sitting or walking, you would not know it. The sand is nice, the beach is wide, the dunes well established and the sea grasses healthy and picturesque.

There is only one small condo complex at this end so the beaches are no where near crowded. Although there are no lifeguards, beach patrol drives up and down the beach. At every public beach access, there is a rescue buoy on a rope, a whistle and a reminder to call 911 if these items are needed. Leashed dogs are welcome all the time and all types of beach structures are allowed.

**************************

Before this trip, we had never seen this style of cabana before. They are very popular here and on the more windy days down on the beach, we never saw one blown down or damaged. Eye-witness set up and take down are easy and quick with just one shock-cord, one guy-wire and two bags to fill with sand to stabilize A local lady told Janet two university students invented them and they sell for a whopping $249.

*******************************

For those of you who don’t know, in March, we adopted another hound dog. Then named Jolie and extremely shy and skittish, she is now named Cokie and is now only very shy and skittish! Most likely she was a hunting dog and somewhere somehow suffered a broken back left leg, probably getting caught in a snare trap. When first found, it was too late to surgically repair her leg and they warned us she may need an amputation. However, it didn’t take us long to discover her insatiable appetite for hiking in the woods on trails. Her leg will always look differently but it does not slow her down. She has come a long way but it is often one step forward, two steps backwards. Now she hates loud and not-so-loud noises, sudden movements, vehicles (especially big trucks with loud engines), men, garbage cans, baby strollers, walking in our neighborhood, walking in towns......and, well, you get the picture.

So, I say all of that to say that Cokie is with us on this trip. We have only managed to get her to the beach two evenings and haven’t tried more.

However, just a mile and a half up the road, there is a town park with trails. So every morning, we drive and hike in Emerald Isle Woods Park.

No lengthy trails there but we are usually by ourselves on the trail and she relaxes and enjoys it. If not for the challenge of how many people and vehicles would pass us, we could walk to it as there is a wonderful, paved 11-mile “bicycle path” that runs from The Point to the town border with Indian Beach. Anytime of the day, there are cyclists on it and in the mornings, joggers and walkers, too. It is a great asset for a beach town so if you come here with kids, bring bikes!

Weather-wise, we got very lucky that Emerald Isle was never under an evacuation order due to Isaias vacillating between a Tropical Storm and a Level One Hurricane. A lot of places both north and south of us did issue evacuation orders. We undertook all the pre-storm advisements, securing the trash cans, bringing in balcony furniture, locking the outdoor shower, closing all window shades, making ice and pulling my truck underneath the house. We had leftovers for dinner and a 1500-piece jigsaw and then we waited.

The worst part for us was supposed to be between 4 and 5am; no doubt, it was going to be a long night. And it was. And I really don’t want to do it again. Even though we later learned when Isaias hit the North Carolina coast 100 miles south of us it was upgraded to a Level One hurricane, that was enough for me. I can not believe there are people who shelter in place and ignore evacuation orders for stronger storms. This house shook so much I was nauseous. I was only halfway joking when I said I needed my motion sickness meds! My mind raced with worst case scenarios and I thought I would have a heart attack laying in bed worrying. I couldn’t imagine falling asleep nor could I imagine staying awake all night. Mercifully, I did get about four hours of sleep. When we woke up Tuesday morning and stepped out on the upper deck, we were thrilled to see blue skies and sunshine. And the best thing, we had power!

To my knowledge, Emerald Isle escaped unscathed. On our hike in the Park with Cokie, there were some downed trees but throughout our neighborhood and between our house and the beach, lawns and driveways were only littered with small branches, leaves and pine needles. When we went down to the beach after the storm, for the first time since arriving, the ocean/swimming safety status had already been upgraded to the most normal level. So, besides being sleepy all day, we quickly put Isaias behind us.....or at least we thought so until we went to dinner.

Sunday night, we had picked up a Low Country Boil from a restaurant back on the mainland in a cute little town called Swansboro.

Cokie was very opposed to walking around it then so we thought we would return one night without her. It never occurred to us that they wouldn’t have power so when we drove back over the causeway and then across the little bridge in to Swansboro proper, the scene before us was not that of a cute little town but a major Power company repair project in process! Needless to say, we had to backtrack and instead get take-out at Bogue House in Cedar Pointe.

On Wednesday, my younger brother, Michael, drove down from Bluefield to join us for the remainder of our stay. And as much as he wanted her to like him — and try as he might to get her to — this sent Cokie in to retreat mode. He talks very sweetly to her and has even petted her a few times but she still looks at him with such distrust. But having a positive experience with a man around is good for her and she finally ate a full bowl of food tonight albeit after Michael had gone to bed. (Small steps!)

I need to wrap this trip report up but I would be remiss to not tell you we did return again to Swansboro where we had an excellent meal at Boro Restaurant. We sat outside and were entertained by fuzzy ducklings weaving in and out of the appropriately distanced tables and by a couple singing country music.

Our other very enjoyable outing was to the charming town of Beaufort, NC.

We would have liked to have taken a tour boat out to see Cape Lookout and its lighthouse but due to COVID-19, the larger boats were not allowed to make that trip. (Next time!) Instead, we took a smaller boat (us 3 in the back of the boat, a family of 3 adults & 3 children at the front of the boat) on a shorter trip on Taylor Creek. Even though we didn’t luck in to seeing any of the wild horses that live on the islands there, it was nice having those views of the waterfront homes and restaurants with a little commentary to go along. In Beaufort, we dined inside at the Beaufort Grocery.

It is Friday night and we have to be out of this house by 10am tomorrow. The week has flown by and we wish we could stay for another. Cokie, on the other hand, is ready to go home although really, I think as long as she is with us, and the house isn’t shaking, she is content. And for 2020, that just might be the best for which we can hope!

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solivar · 8 years ago

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WIP: Ghost Stories On Route 66

aka the one in which Hanzo Shimada is an expatriate student of the Fine Arts, attending college in what he assumes to be a reasonably sedate corner of the American southwest. Jesse McCree is an occasionally leather-clad NPS ranger whose duties extend somewhat further than shooing lost tourists back onto the clearly marked hiking trails. Something weird is going on in the desert south of Santa Fe and their lives unexpectedly come together in the middle of it.

Now featuring family meetings over breakfast, Genji being right about something, and Hanzo tossing the very last of his fucks out the window.

Author’s note: I’m having oral surgery tomorrow so I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that maybe, just maaaaaybe, that the next section might not come out tomorrow. However, once I get this stinking tooth out, I will no longer be continuously fighting off an infection that saps my energy and randomly puts me in the hospital. I will attempt to get back to my regular writing schedule and your entertainment forthwith. ^_^

Sweetwater’s Cafe and Dim Sum Palace was what happened when the owner of the hip young southwestern fusion cuisine cafe closest to the UNM main campus met the owner of the hip young Chinese small plates restaurant closest to the UNM main campus and, rather than engage in an increasingly rancorous culinary battle for the spare cash of every student in walking distance, they instead fell wildly in love and shortly thereafter into scrumptious and wholesome partnership. Strategically located catty-corner to the main campus residence halls, the post-merger restaurant became the place for broke ass college students attempting to top-load on calories for the day to turn up as soon as the doors opened, eat from carts pushed around three stories of public-to-semi-private dining space by an army of cheerful abuelitas for two hours straight, and still make a 9:30 lecture with time to spare. The joint Shimada-Tekhartha-Song-Correia household dined there frequently enough that the host waved them through despite the fact that Hanzo still looked like he had just committed a phthalo green and phthalocyanine blue shaded murder even after a thorough scrubbing. Fortunately, their usual table, a booth in the back corner of the semi-private floor, was unoccupied and he rather swiftly found himself tucked firmly between Genji on one side and Zenyatta on the other, with Lucio and Hana standing guard on the outside ends of the U-shaped seat. Hana had, in fact, only parted with her adopted hockey stick with extreme reluctance.

“Is it too early to start drinking?” Hana asked brightly. “Because, between you and me, I have a feeling that today is going to be the sort of thing that demands Mimosas. Lots of Mimosas. And possibly a whole bottle of tequila before it’s all over.”

“Yes,” said Hanzo and Zenyatta, more or less simultaneously and in reasonably identical disapproving tones, to their mutual surprise.

“You two aren’t going to be a single bit of fun about any of this, are you? Okay, fine.” And when the drinks cart came around, she settled for a spiced hot chocolate and waited patiently for everyone else to adulterate their tea or coffee before demanding, “All right. Spill it. I want to know in excruciating detail why our security deposit probably just went down the toilet.”

Hanzo inhaled the steam rising off his cup of tea, took a fortifying sip, organized his thoughts, and began to speak, pausing only when the food carts stopped next to their table. He told them about the trip itself, the breakdown, the walk through the desert, the ranger and their drive back to the car the next morning, and precisely how everything had gone horribly, hideously wrong from that point forward. He even copped to talking to Zenyatta first, which earned them both a half-startled, half-hurt look from Genji. When he finished, the table was covered in half-empty plates of huevos rancheros, honey-coated sopapillas, carne adovada burritos, pork xiao long bao, sesame buns, and a crock of hot and sour soup. He helped himself to a little bit of everything while the others digested what he told them.

“So...what you’re saying is…” Hana said in the tone of one musing idly aloud, “...your smoking hot park ranger has one hot vampire dad and one terrifying smog monster dad but, nonetheless, he has two dads, which means he won’t find it completely traumatic if you call him up and ask him if he wants to go get some hot chocolate and pumpkin empanadas once all this is over?”

“Really? That was your takeaway from his story?” Lucio asked.

“It was the takeaway that doesn’t make me want to run screaming back to Korea.” Hana replied, sweetly.

“Okay, there is that.” Lucio turned and leveled a deadly serious look at him, brown eyes intensely earnest. “Han, I love you man, you know that, right? So you know this is coming from a place of love when I say you could not be more obviously thirsty for this dude if you had a holoscreen floating over your head announcing in foot-tall flashing letters I am thirsty for Ranger Jesse McCree. Seriously, ask him out. The worst he can do is say he’s not interested.”

Hanzo buried his face in his soup bowl in an effort to disguise the fact that all the blood was rushing into his head with such violence he could hear it roaring in his ears like a gale-force wind. On one side, he could feel Zenyatta heroically controlling the urge to add his encouragement to the chorus; on the other, he suspected that Genji was restraining something considerably less supportive.

“Show of hands,” Genji asked, his tone positively glacial with the self-control it was taking him not to have a screaming freakout in the middle of breakfast, “Who thinks my brother being stalked by a soul-eating monstrosity from beyond reality as we know it is completely unacceptable and something we should all be working to change right now?”

Four hands went up; Hanzo abstained, since he felt his opinion on the matter should be fairly self-evident.

“Seriously, though.” Hana reached over and snagged a sopapilla. “I joke because otherwise I’d be rocking back and forth in a corner gibbering right now because, really, that was kinda the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen and my Dad collects vintage Junji Ito manga so I know from creepy.”

“I gotta agree with Hana on that one.” Lucio continued to look intensely earnest. “I get why you tried to keep us out of it and I appreciate that, I do, because this semester is trying to murder me even without the addition of horrible tentacle monsters -- “

“I am not entirely certain those are tentacles,” Hanzo murmured into the surface of his soup.

“-- or suspiciously tentacular not-tentacles, but seriously, man. Your life is like normal repellent right now. Anti-normal.” Lucio slumped back in his seat. “And your ranger dude thought sending you back to standard reality would help?”

“The principle is a sound one.” Zenyatta interjected quietly. “The purpose of returning him to us was to encourage his soul to anchor itself in the comforting rituals of the ordinary, of the life he led before it intersected with the unnatural. I suspected the medicine sent to aid that endeavor was dosed slightly too high and therefore overperforming in an unhelpful way -- reducing it, however, may have allowed for something even more dangerous. For that I am profoundly sorry.”

“I asked for your help -- you have nothing to apologize for, Zenyatta.” Hanzo drank the last of his bowl. “Perhaps I should -- “

“Take an academic leave of absence and put a couple thousand miles of ocean between you and whatever that thing is?” Genji suggested helpfully.

“I am not entirely certain that physical distance would actually constitute an encumbrance in this case.” Zenyatta interjected.

“Why not?” His brother replied, with the sort of maddening powers of logic he could marshal when circumstances demanded it. “The ranger suggested it would help if he stayed away from where it happened in the first place -- rationally, even further away would be safest, right?”

“The ranger sent me back here because you are my family,” Hanzo replied quietly. “And because being in your presence would constitute a form of healing. Would you like to contemplate the sort of convalescence I would enjoy if I crawled home and told our parents this story? I would spend the rest of my life contemplating the world through a heavy antipsychotic-colored haze from behind the unrelentingly beige walls and discreetly reinforced windows of a psychiatric institution that I would never be allowed leave again. I’m half amazed you don’t think I’m insane.”

“Admittedly, we kind of have the advantage of knowing you as the less freaky Shimada brother.” Lucio replied soothingly, flicking a glance at Genji as he did so. “No offense, G.”

“None taken.” Then, grudgingly, “I don’t think father would let that happen, but I see your point.”

Hanzo let the breath he’d been holding out in a shaky sigh. “Thank you.”

“In any case, I would suggest that our next course of action should be determining if that...painting...at the house is more than it appears to be -- “ Zenyatta looked up at the squeaks of dismay emanating from Hana.

“Could it be? Honestly?” She asked, eyes approximately twice their normal size. “Because, as it is, I’m not entirely sure I wanna sleep there with it still up as it is and if there’s, y’know, a chance it and its I-can’t-believe-those-aren’t-tentacles might come oozing off the walls I’m completely sacking out in your car for the foreseeable future, Zen, just warning you in advance.”

“Yes.” Simple and unadorned and, not for the first time that day, Hanzo felt as though he were trying to breathe around a red-hot spiky ball of panic.

“So. We call the ranger.” Genji said, firmly. “As far as I’m concerned, a whole lot of this is his damned fault in the first place and he can be doing more to help fix it.” Hanzo opened his mouth to object and found himself collecting a ferocious iridescent green glare for his troubles. “And, no, I don’t want to hear about how it isn’t because your judgment on this topic is completely impaired by your desire to climb him like a fire tower.”

“That is the worst analogy in the entire history of time.” Hanzo replied tersely. “And I am not -- “

“And Hana has a point, too, about staying at the condo not being the best idea until this gets figured out -- which, ideally, should happen today.” Genji continued doggedly on. “And you’re not going to be sleeping across from that no matter what.”

“Agreed.” There were days when it simply didn’t pay to fight, and this was clearly one of them. Hanzo fished the card containing the ranger’s contact information out of his pocket. “I’ll -- “

Genji snagged it in a single smooth motion. “I’ll call him. You’re supposed to be seeking normal, right? Go to class. Keep your studio slot. Hang out in well-lit areas preferably surrounded by hundreds of people. We’ll meet up at the Student Union at...five? How’s five for everybody?”

A general murmur of assent ran around the table and Hanzo nodded, reluctantly, in agreement.

Genji grinned. “Don’t look so worried, aniki. I’ll only chew on him a little bit.”

Zenyatta dropped them off at the entrance to the main campus and, until Lucio and Hana peeled off in their respective morning lecture hall directions, Hanzo felt rather distinctly like he was walking surrounded by the world’s smallest, strangest Secret Service detail. Hana was clearly still itching for the security of a hockey stick and, rather than stopping to talk to the two dozen people who tried to flag her down as they crossed the quad, she waved and continued on, her gaze darting about as though she expected something unwholesomely flexible and sanity-blighting to lurch out from behind one of the pieces of exterior display sculpture scattered along their route. Given recent events, he decided he really couldn’t blame her for her excess of caution. Lucio was altogether more mellow but he was also carrying a messenger bag stuffed with enough notebooks and musical equipment components it could probably be used as an improvised melee weapon of some efficacy against even Things From Beyond With or Without Tentacles.

And Genji was, well, Genji and walked a considerable distance out of the way from his own first class to escort Hanzo directly to the doors of Kaplan Memorial Hall, in which lay the fine arts lecture halls and reservable studio spaces. Under normal circumstances, Hanzo arose at godforsaken o’clock in order to take advantage of the fact that there wasn’t an underclassman alive dedicated enough to their major to voluntarily choose a studio block available before the sun was even properly up, no matter how long they could have it. Genji could generally be counted among those ranks, as demonstrated by his reliance on sunglasses when confronted with the early morning light glinting off the glass-and-adobe exteriors of half the buildings on campus, which he normally only encountered under significantly different conditions.

“Hana’s not done asking questions, you know. She’s got that look in her eye.” Genji remarked, pseudo-casual, and Hanzo’s already well-knotted stomach abruptly contorted itself still further into a digestive fractal of perfect dread. “She let it ride just now because she’s actually got class in fifteen minutes but between you and me? She’s going to rake Zen over the coals once she’s got the time. And when your ranger gets here? I wouldn’t want to be him.”

“He’s not my ranger.” Hanzo replied, deeply regretting both the huevos rancheros and the hot and sour soup.

“Semantics.” Genji gave him a sidelong look. “Hanzo -- “

“You want to tell them.” Hanzo finished the thought for him and paused for a moment in the shadow of one of the big pieces on loan from the Museum of Native American Arts and Culture, planting his back against its base and sinking down onto his haunches.

“Zen already knows.” Evenly. “He saw her in me before we even spoke for the first time. I think that we have to tell them. Admittedly, I wish we could do it under more voluntary circumstances but...I think we owe them the truth. Both of us.”

Hanzo closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment on making certain his breakfast stayed where he’d put it. “You’re right,” He finally said, fighting to keep the misery out of his voice and, apparently, succeeding.

“Wow, I am?” Genji actually took his sunglasses off and blinked down at him in genuine surprise.

“Yes.” Hanzo tilted his head back and let the cool of the granite statue base soak into his skull. “I think the ranger might suspect something, too. And right now it’s only a matter of time before everyone else finds out and then managing how much the fallout sucks. We might as well pull the trigger ourselves.”

Genji hunkered down next to him, hesitated fractionally, then brushed the hair back from his eyes. “It doesn’t have to suck, you know. Our friends are smart, caring people who actually like us, which gives them a couple legs up on the rest of the clan on their worst day.”

Hanzo nodded wordlessly and found he didn’t have it in him to crush the hope in his brother’s eyes. “You’re right about that, too.”

“Clearly a lesser sign of the Apocalypse.” Genji pushed back to his feet and offered him a hand up, which he accepted. “Are you okay?”

No. “I’ll be fine,” Hanzo lied with great sincerity. “I probably should have picked either the Tex-Mex or the dim sum, but not both. Bad decision making on my part.”

“Well, at least you’re grown up enough to admit it.” Genji held onto his arm for the rest of the walk. “Where are you going when you’re done in the studio?”

“The library. I’ve got some research yet to do.” The depths of the Kaplan building yawned before him like the heretofore unsuspected entrance to the Underworld.

Genji made a point of obviously texting that information to the rest of the household. “...We also might wanna kinda call the police again. I let the officer in charge know that you weren’t missing-missing and she left me a voicemail saying they’d like to talk to you to confirm that fact. I just found it this morning.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes heavenward. “Number?”

Genji sent it over and offered him a crooked smile. “Be careful, aniki.”

“I promise I won’t drink my paint water.”

“Or fall asleep.”

Hanzo shuddered. “Not yet anyway. Go to class, Genji.”

The fine arts studios were located on Kaplan Hall’s upper floors, the best to take advantage of its relatively exposed position on the south-westernmost edge of campus and the significantly longer exposure to natural light thus afforded. Hanzo made his way quietly through the corridors where at least two early morning art history seminars were already in progress, avoiding the elevators that sounded like the mournful dying song of some beautifully tragic deep sea creature no matter how freshly maintenanced they might be, and took the stairs to his second floor studio slot. Fortunately for the continuing unsettled state of both his stomach and his sanity, his thesis advisor was likely hip-deep in holoslides in front of one of those seminars right now and if he locked the door and turned on the external sound suppression she would correctly interpret that as Do Not Disturb Art Is Trying To Happen and accost him at their scheduled meeting. Unfortunately, at the moment, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less than Try To Make Art Happen thanks very much to the present state of his bedroom and most assuredly not while locked inside a soundproofed chamber whose emergency access keys were some of the most frequently misplaced items in the entire college. He did not want to contemplate the wreckage of human folly while standing on the brink of exposing his own venality, the stupidity and arrogance that Genji had forgiven him, whose consequences he could never undo. He was not ready yet to give up the warm comfort of the others’ kind regard, could feel a part of him trying to crawl away under some internal rock and die at the thought of Zenyatta’s quiet all-encompassing compassion turning to disgust. Or the ranger. He had to plant his back against the corridor wall and clench his jaw against a stomach-churning rush of nausea as his entirely too vivid imagination painted that reaction shot against the insides of his skull. Which, admittedly, might have made for a strikingly personal and heartfelt contrast piece to the sterility of industrial-scale desolation but at the moment it primarily made him want to curl up in the crawlspace under the back stairwell and cry until he drowned in his own phlegm.

He did not, in the end, lock himself in the studio/potential supernatural deathtrap or cry his face off under the stairs. Instead, he peered over the lower edge of the nearest exterior window to make certain Genji wasn’t lurking in the courtyard, taped a note to the studio door that it was unoccupied and free to use, and fled to the library for the sanctuary to be found in research and the stringently enforced lack of interaction with other human beings.

Hanzo took possession of a carrel close to the windows in one of the second floor study rooms, slotted his tablet into the physical network interface, and connected, pulling up the local news sites he had bookmarked the night before. Cora Hernandez had not been miraculously found in the one night since he became aware of both her existence and her disappearance. In fact, all the most current news suggested that the state police and the rangers were preparing to shift from “search and rescue” to “search and recovery,” now that the temperatures were dropping consistently into the thirties by night. Even a reward for useful information offer well north of a hundred thousand dollars had yielded no new clues to her whereabouts. Her parents looked as though they had aged a decade in a few weeks, her mother pale and distraught, and he could only imagine her agony. In the back of his mind, a soft, small voice wondered idly how much effort his own parents would have assigned to the task of finding him, or his body, and how long they would have bothered. The lord and lady of the Shimada-gumi were, in the end, fairly brutal in their pragmatism and wasting more than they had to on a bad investment was never their way. Genji would never stop and he ruthlessly crushed that thought before it could go any further and closed the news tab, refusing to indulge in the thought of what would happen if his brother encountered the thing that attacked him unaware of its nature and there he was imagining it in vivid, horrifying detail and this was definitely one of those days when it didn’t pay to be a Fine Art Masters candidate. It took a long moment of heavy peace-stress breathing and thinking fixedly of nothing but a horde of kittens and puppies gamboling together in a field of wildflowers to distract himself from the increasingly Memlingesque products of his mind’s eye.

The small furry creatures and oxygen supersaturation eventually had the desired effect and his hands were at least reasonably steady as he activated the carrel’s interface surfaces and requested access to several of the library’s more specialized databases. UNM owned a cultural anthropology department unrivaled in the west, even the University of California system, and if there was anywhere he could go to cure his ignorance on a number of topics, it was definitely here, in its repository for thousands of books and even more scholarly articles and original sources. He brought up the anthropological database’s internal search engine, set his fingers on the holokeys, and hesitated.

If he stopped here, the voice of sweet reason murmured in the back of his mind, it ended here. Genji would call the ranger, and he would come to sort out what was wrong at the house. He would finish the rest of his medicine and his soul would never go wandering away from his body again and in a half a year he would graduate and move to some corner of the world where the ghosts and demons of the desert would never cross his path again. And that would be the best, for himself and everyone else, except the next unlucky soul to fall under that thing’s eye, who might not have rescue as close or as capable.

If he did not stop here, that same voice murmured with a significantly sharper edge to its tone, if he insisted upon continuing to look, then he was asking the nameless thing that saw him, that saw him and stalked him and attacked him, to continue doing so. It might even, perhaps, be an invitation to more of such things. He was, that voice hissed, risking taking a door, already cracked, and throwing it all the way open and inviting whatever waited in the dark beyond inside. And for what? He was nothing and had even less to offer and he punched in his first search queries to the sound of sweet reason’s howling despair, watched the results scroll up his screen with a certain cold satisfaction curling in his gut. There was, to put it mildly, a lot. He set is phone to give him a twenty minute warning on the five o’clock hour and dove in head first.

#Ghost Stories On Route 66

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imthedoctordonna · 8 years ago

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What do you mean I updated a fic?

Yeah... so after a long hiatus in the fanfic department, I went ahead and posted a new chapter to Lost and Found my Olicity AU fic that is a sequel to my Woman in Wolf’s Clothing. Pop on over to AO3 or FFN to read the fic in it’s uncompleted entirety.

OR you could read chapter 4 below...

After an hour of briefing the team, pacing the floor, and worrying about Felicity, Oliver stepped in their bedroom to find her sleeping peacefully. He fought the urge to cuddle up next to her and shut the door on his way out. He collapsed on the couch, his whole body exhausted from the events of that morning.

“Here, eat this.” Donna handed him a slice of pizza that Roy had ordered earlier.

He chewed it mindlessly, and when it was gone he looked to the woman fidgeting uncomfortably on the couch across from him. “What did you mean by ‘This isn’t the first time’? I have a feeling you were speaking literally.”

“I was and I wasn’t.” She sat in a pensive silence for a couple minutes before looking to him and continuing. “I have quite a few years under my belt, as you can imagine. Even tried my hand at dating once or twice since I left Damien… those men were only interested in one thing, and it wasn’t something I was willing to give up easily. Felicity. After the third date, when I thought everything was going great and I might actually have the opportunity to be happy again, they would start pushing about ‘When am I going to meet your daughter?’ and ‘Where does she go to school? Maybe we could pick her up someday’ or ‘My cousin would gladly watch her for the weekend while we go to Havasu.’

The thing was, I rarely ever mentioned her. I am extremely guarded when it comes to her and had mentioned her only once or twice. They were fixated, and that’s when I knew it had to be Damien’s doing. He was trying to get at my baby through me and I was not going to let that happen, so I called off all the relationships when they got too insistent. They were confused, but eventually most of them went their own way without much of a fight. This one guy though, Roger, he took it a bit… harsher… than the rest. He became overbearing and borderline violent. I was truly afraid for the second time in my life. He would show up at the casino and sit in my section. If I would switch areas with someone; there he was. I even went so far as to request a schedule change, or to work the VIP area only and he still found a way to harass me.

That’s when I asked my brother for some help. He helped me file a TRO by falsifying a few small things here and there and for a while, Roger had disappeared. I remember the relief I felt, not having to fear going to work or letting Felicity ride the bus to school…” She smiled sadly. “Not three weeks later, right as my world started to feel normal again, Roger was waiting by my car after work.” Donna paused, the memory making her voice shakier than she wanted. She wrestled for the strength to speak smoothly and detached, as she always did when it came to recalling that night.

Oliver waiting patiently for her to regain her footing, and only a few minutes had passed when she started speaking again. “He was sweaty and shaking. This angry smile stretching his cheeks too wide. He had said I looked good for an old hag, and that my ‘B’ of a daughter and I had missed the opportunity of a lifetime with him… When I started telling him just where he could shove his ‘opportunity of a lifetime’, he unzipped his jacket. Eight little pipes were strapped to his stomach and…” She took a deep breath and shook off the tears that were threatening to fall. “Anyway, one of my coworkers had seen him in the parking garage and went to get security. They must have seen the bomb on the feed because they made it there only seconds after he had unzipped. One of the officers pulled me behind an SUV while the other tried to talk him down. Roger took off running toward me, but he tripped and accidently set off the device before he could get close enough to kill me. I walked away with some shrapnel wounds and small third and second degree burns.

So other than some rather ridiculous plans that never came to be, that is the first time something, or someone, ever blew up in my face.” She shuddered out a laugh and rubbed her upper arms attempting to fight off the internal chill.

Placing a hand over one of hers, Oliver spoke. “I am sorry you had to go through that, and this may seem insensitive, but do you think your brother would have any information on this Roger? If he was connected to Darhk, we could uncover a whole trove of information.”

“I know he would. I can call him now and see if he can’t pass it to your boss.”

“That would be great, Agent Diggle can give him all the information he needs to get ahold of the director.” When Donna stood, so did Oliver. “You know that by pursuing this new lead, you are going to need to tell this story to Felicity, right?”

“I know. I just wish this is one of those times she was acting like she was asleep but she was really listening to the whole thing…” They both looked toward to bedroom door. When there was no movement Donna whispered “I am really worried about her.”

Me too, Oliver thought. He placed his hand on her shoulder with reassurance and turned to his team (who were currently acting like they hadn’t listened in on the entire conversation) “We need someone in the crime lab helping them sift through the debris and giving us up to date information on the bomber and their handiwork. Also, I need two of you to start on the outskirts of Henderson, working your way to North Vegas, searching for storage units Dahrk might have owned. Look for all his known aliases and ones that seem similar.”

“He went by Noah Kuttler when we were married.” Donna chimed in.

“I can call Iris,” Barry suggested, “She has sources everywhere, and might be able to find more details faster, especially with Cisco and Caitlin.”

Oliver nodded in agreement and with that, the team dispersed, looking for the smallest clue to lead them to the missing kids.

Hours later Felicity finally stirred, her eyes dry and overly sensitive (which was saying something) and her throat scratchy. If this is what it was to be “normal” she could do without. After a few minutes of sitting on the bed in a fog, she walked listlessly to the en suite bathroom and rinsed her face, attempting to wash away the cobwebs. She realized that the face rinse wasn’t going to wake her up nearly enough, so she started the shower.

The sound of the water hitting the tiled shower wall drowned out the ambient noise that was always driving her to the brink of insanity. She stood beneath the near-scalding heat, letting the water beat the tension from her body and the haze from her mind. Her mind raced over the events of the day, trying to problem solve with minimal facts was only leaving more questions than solutions. It was only when she realized her hands were getting pruny that she shut off the faucet.

She stepped out of the shower and into the steamy bathroom, wrapped herself in the hotel’s luxurious robe, twisted her hair into a matching towel, and proceeded to brush her teeth. So what if it was almost dinner and her stomach was yelling at her? She was finally feeling human again (or as close as she gets at least). Her eyes no longer burned and her headache was only a horrible memory. Feeling miles better she went to the bedroom to get dressed and join the others in the main living area.

She stopped short when she saw Oliver standing just inside the closed door, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together in that adorable nervous way he has. She let herself enjoy the sight of him for just a moment before reality dragged them back into its all too firm grip. He exuded strength and confidence even when he was worried or unsure, he was safety personified. His shifting stance and furrowed brow made her smile to herself.

“Are you alright? I’ve been worried. We’ve been worried. Your mom says you’ve never been sick. You slept for hours. Should we get an ARGUS medic here? Maybe Caitlyn?”

“I am much better now, Oliver. Diggle is probably right, it’s probably just the let down from the adrenaline rush. No need for a doctor. How long was I out?” She looked down, questions furrowing her own brow, “I woke up feeling like I ate sand. Or like I dipped my entire head into the sand like some sort of ostrich. Though I know they don’t actually…” She took a breath and looked up from her own fidgeting hands to see his smile. “I am good. If I start feeling anything like that again, you can call Caitlyn. Deal?”

“Deal.”

As they stood there smiling at each other, Felicity slowly came to the realization that she was wearing just a robe and a towel. Her eyes darted to the bed and back to him, and her heart started racing. She must be feeling better because she was beginning to have many ideas about how to get full use out of that large mattress. He seemed to sense her train of thought because his smile dropped, his eyes went half-lidded and he took a step toward her, matching her own determined steps. They met, not with a crash, but with a caress.

He cradled her face, tilting her chin upwards, and searching her face for the answer to a silent question. Her hand stroked his stubble, she bit her lip, smiled and gave him a nod. Yes, I am ready. He took a steadying breath and grinned.

“Later.” He promised. “When we don’t have half the agency in the hotel room with us.” He sealed that promise with a tender, lingering kiss. They parted when Felicity’s towel fell to the floor. Barry, Iris, Cisco and Caitlyn are looking at all the self-storage places between North Vegas and South Henderson. If they find anything suspicious, they’ll let us know. I’ll leave you to get dressed.” He backed toward the door his hands lingering on her until she was out of reach. “And there is almost an entire spread of Big Belly Burger out there. You might want to hurry before Barry gets back and eats it all.”

Her stomach growled in appreciation, drawing a chuckle from them both. Food was just the right motivator. She was dressed in record time.

#My fic #olicity fan fiction #olicity au #Lost and Found #Ekikamess #chapter 4 #ao3 #ffnet

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queennicoleinboots · 5 years ago

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Day 46 of Peter and Xara the Goat's Curse: Peter Cusses Out A Literary Agent

A/N: Extreme anger, women bigotry, making fun of the South

The whole family was in a rare mood of hatred and extreme anger. Jamie Parker was the only one halfway civil. He greeted me and warned me about his borderline psychotic family members. I thanked him.

Meanwhile, Godiva was having hot flashes. Her back was hurting her, and she was temporarily possessed by a demon. When I greeted her, she gave me this "Fuck You" look.

I frowned and wondered why I cared. Maybe I was PMSing and am sensitive to everything. I had a strong feeling someone didn't want me around today. What the hell did I do? Oh yeah, move to the South. How stupid!!!!

Godiva walked to the restroom with frustration.

I then tried to clean around Peter, but he was growling at the computer.

"I just want to make this snakeman look creepy. Why does my art betray me?!" Peter asked as he beat the computer desk once with his hammer fist. "Fuck you, photofuck you piece of shit." He slammed the computer desk with his fist again.

"Hi Peter. Is your artwork cursed?" I asked as I dusted the furniture.

"Yes!!! And so the fuck am IIIII!!!!" Peter said as he threw a pencil across the room. "Asshole program. I didn't fucking ask for this bullshit."

I chuckled. "I'm sure it's fine." I said.

"No it's not! I haaaaaate it!" Peter yelled as he crumbled up a piece of paper and threw it across the room. He then saved the progress of his photoshop art and walked away from the computer desk. Then, he jumped up and down and chanted in anger, "Son of a bitch! Why are all my talents going to shit?!" He screamed.

Tug laid down and hid his head under his paws.

"I love your artwork, Peter," I said as I looked at him. "I want copies of all your artwork."

Peter then smiled sadistically. "Sure!" he said while making a rainbow hand motion. "How about if I shit on a canvas and give it you?!" he asked sarcastically.

"Actually, it would be a masterpiece. Please make me shit art," I said with a grin.

"Oh brother," Peter said as he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. He stared at the wall intently with glowing green eyes.

His phone started ringing normally.

He sighed with rage as he made an air-choking motion. He stormed to get the phone. "Yes mother," he mumbled before he answered the phone. "Yes. Mother."

"Please buy some immodium. I am stuck on this God-forsaken toilet. I have diarrhea. I have hot flashes. I hate everything and everyone," Godiva said over the phone.

"Yes, Mother. I hate everything and everyone, too. I am going to shit on a canvas," Peter said before he changed his facial expression to a clown face. "Say, can you save some of your diarrhea for my canvases?"

"Fuck no, you asshole," Godiva said as she hung up on him.

He looked at his phone with contempt on his face before he said, "Fuck you, too."

"Fuck her indeed. What a bitch," I said.

"Yeah. Want to come to the store with me and get away from my God-forsaken parents? My dad's been up everyone's ass. I know he can't help it, but fuck," Peter said.

"Yes, please," I said as I walked into the front of the house.

A wild caller called Peter's phone. The Pokemon battle theme song started playing.

Peter picked up the phone and said, "Who the fuck is this?" before he answered. "Helloooo?"

"Hello. Is this Peter W. Parker?" the female caller asked in a sexy voice.

"Yes, but I'm not in the mood for that kind of call. Who the fuck are you?" Peter asked.

I chuckled.

Jamie rolled to me and asked, "Is Peter leaving soon? Please tell me he is. His twin mother is bad enough. Keep him away from me."

I nodded.

"Oh. Cherri Pye. Yes. Haha. Maybe I'm in the mood for that kind of call after all. What did you think of my novel?...What do you mean you need me to come over to finish the job??? ... Look, you've gotta be fucking with me... My novel isn't detailed enough???" Peter asked through gritted teeth as he was clenching the phone. I heard the plastic crumble. "What? What? You're rejecting my novel because it doesn't fully describe sperm consistency?... Oh yeah because most erotica describes the viscosity of sperm and cinnamin.... Give me a fucking break you specific bitch... Describe the consistency of YOUR cunt..., cunt. Haha. You couldn't FUCKING PAY ME ENOUGH TO DESCRIBE AND/OR REINACT Arlie's technique you fuckin' fuckin' Bitchasaurus Rex. You're as bad as my fucking cunt mother. All women are all alike, USELESS TWAT whores. They have two purposes... sex and slavery. Possibly a third, but I'm sterile so fuck it. Fuck you. Fuck you.... Yeah. The only fuckin' reason I sent you a copy of my manuscript is because you are a piece of ass... Well, you coulda got fucked in your asshole if you had *juuuuust* accepted my novel proposal you dumb cunt bitch whore slut..... Not my fault. That's your decision, NOT MINE!!!" Peter was making hand gestures and pointing as he bent his knees and leaned over the air.

I laughed. These are things I wanted to say to Godiva more often that not. I swear she is like Cersei Lannister in the Game of Thrones, a complete passive-aggressive, cunty, manipulative, and attractive bitch. Peter at this point is like Jamie Lannister, a man who tries to be honorable but had this massive asshole streak that gets him in constant trouble.

The Pokemon battle theme song died.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuuuck youuuuuuu!!!! I'm not writing that in my novellll. Fuck fuck fuck fuuuck you. I'm not writing that either. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck the hell out of you. Fuck your damn ideas!!!!" Peter sung over the phone.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuuuck youuuuuuu!!! I'm not sitting on that toiletttt. Fuck fuck fuck fuuuck you. I'm not sitting there either. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck the hell out of you. Fuck this fucking bathroom!!!!" Godiva sung in the bathroom.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuuuck youuuuuuu!!! My family is full of assholes. Fuck fuck fuck fuuuck you. I'm too sick for this shitttt!!! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck the hell out of them. Fuck this fucking hoouuusse!!!" Jamie sung as he wheeled out of the house.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuuuck youuuuuuu!!! These humans are fucked-up. Fuck fuck fuck fuuuck you. How did I get here? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck the hell out of thissssss!!! Fuck these fucking people!!!" Tug sung as he bolted to the other side of the house away from his asshole family.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuuuck youuuuuuu!!! The Parkers are fucked today. Fuck fuck fuck fuuuck you. What is wrong with them? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck the hell out of this joooobbbbbbbb!!!! Fuck these fucking asshats!!!!" I sung as I watched Peter violently smash his phone to hang up with his large hand.

"Fuck you. I still need immodium and to get away from humanity. My. Back. Is Killing. Me," Godiva said. "And get the newspaper."

"Fuck fuck fuck fuuuck youuuuuuu!!!! Why are you a fucking bitch?! Fuck fuck fuck fuuuck you. You exist to drive me insane!!!! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck the hell out of menoooopaaaauuuuusssse!!!! Fuck the hell out of woooommmmmmeennn!!!" Peter and I sung before we left the house.

Peter sat in the driver seat of his silver Toyota Highlander. I sat in the front seat.

"Ugh. Fuck this car. Your damn therapist gave you this fucking car," I said.

"Cool. Go buy me a better vehicle," Peter said as he drove and rolled his eyes.

"I would if I could, asshole," I said.

"I'm sure! I'd only pay you a dollar for it. Haha," Peter said.

"You're a piece of shit, Peter," I said as I glared at him.

"That's how much I paid my therapist," he said.

"You're full of shit," I said.

A growling walrus ring tone erupted from my phone.

"What the fuck was that?" Peter asked.

"That's Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig!" I exclaimed before I answered. "BAE WHUHHHH!!!"

"Bae love. How are you?" Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig asked as he was half-asleep.

"I'm alive. You sound like you're half-awake," I said.

"I am," Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig said.

"LEARN TO FUCKING DRIVE, COCKSUCKER!!!!!!" Peter yelled.

I cracked up.

"Oh God. Peter sounds fucked up," Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig said with a laugh.

"He really is. Every fucking day," I said as I laughed. I was slaphappy at that point.

"Goddamn driver mother fucker!" Peter yelled as he honked. "Fucking idiots!!!"

Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig laughed. "That's what you get when you drive in Georgia. I'm going to drive with them soon. I really could use two more hours of sleep, but fuck it. I'm trying to wear myself out."

"Come to the Parker residence. They'll wear you the fuck out quickly. They're the Asshole Family," I said to the tune of the Addam's Family.

"Oh go fuck yourself," Peter said.

"Was that directed to me or a driver besides yourself, Peter?" I asked.

"Either or," Peter said with a chuckle.

"I won't keep you. I need to shop for food. I love you, Bae," Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig said.

"Love you, Boo," I said.

"Whuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!" Wally the Walrus the Bear the Pig and I chanted. The walrus bear pig hung up.

"Agggggggghhh!!!! Dammit. I'm going a few miles down the road, and the traffic is unreasonable!" Peter yelled.

"Yep. I hate driving in this fucking place," I said.

There was a rare awkward silence between us. We stared at the road with full disgust.

When we arrived at the Walmart parking lot, there was more traffic bullshit. People were pulling in and out of parking spots and of course nearly running into each other in the process. These folks were the epitome of dumb motherfuckers.

Peter and I sighed our trademark sighs as we were driving through the parking lot.

All of a fucking sudden, a car pulled out of the parking lot, and Peter and I practically teleported to the inside of the Walmart building. Our ass was sticking out of the Grocery side of Wal-Mart's building. The front of the car was lodged in the Subway restaurant's wall.

"What the fuck was that? How does that even happen?!" Peter and I asked simultaneously as we hyperventilated.

The people in Subway stared at us as though we were aliens. I looked at them like they were retarded. I didn't choose to be lodged in a fucking building that day.

Peter sighed before he freaked out. "Oh God! This reminds me a year and a half ago when my brakes stopped working in the Lincoln. Stupid son of a bitch car! Now THIS happens!" he said with wide eyes as he began to foam at the mouth.

I laughed nervously and looked at him.

The area around us caught fire.

"Oh shit! 9-11!!! Super Coping Man! Help me!" a middle-aged woman screamed as she saw the front of the Highlander burst into flames. Peter W. Parker used to be Super Coping Man.

"Run away!" a middle-aged man screamed as he hauled ass out of Subway.

"Today was a bad day for 'Take Your Son To Work Day,'" his son said as he ran with his dad.

"I just got a promotion, too!" a black man yelled as he ran out of Subway and then went shopping.

"I shouldn't have gone to work today!" another black man said as he ran out the door.

A piece of the fender fell off as the front of the car was sweltering. Some of the drywall around us was falling onto the car and bouncing to the ground.

Peter started swearing as he beat the steering wheel. He reminded me of myself on most occasions. I'll admit that more than ever, I beat on my steering wheel when I am frustrated while in a car.

"I can't believe this! I was driving, and this happens. Wow. I cannot catch a break any fucking where! And I hope I don't have to sit and fix this fucking drywall that is RANDOMLY FALLING FROM THE WALL!!!!"

His phone rang. It was his mother calling. "Yes, mother dearest," Peter said with a sarcastic smile.

"Did you remember to pick up the newspaper?!" Godiva asked.

"Yes, mother. I'm on my way now," Peter said as he smiled more widely.

"Okay, asshole. I am on the toilet," Godiva said. We heard the diarrhea fly out of her butt.

Peter said quietly. "And I'm in a burning fucking car." He was smiling insanely at that point.

I saw Pennywise the Car-Repairing Clown heading toward us.

"Yes, mother. Let me get out of the check-out line... Uh-huh. Bye bye now," Peter said before hanging up. He looked at the phone and said, "Bitch."

"My God she needs to chill the fuck out," I said. "Should we even bother to get out of the car?"

"Unfortunately yes," Peter said as he got out. "Let's go shopping."

We left the car while we encountered Pennywise the Car-Repairing Clown.

"Hey guys! I'm Pennywise the Car-Repairing Clown. May I fix your car for a nominal fee?" Pennywise the Car-Repairing Clown asked.

Peter looked at Pennywise the Car-Repairing Clown and then at his Highlander that was burning and melting the steel. The back doors completely fell off. He laughed like Tom Hanks did in the movie, Money Pit. I laughed with him because I, too, was nervous.

"If you can fix this car, go right ahead," Peter said as he started to go shopping.

I followed him as we went shopping. Everyone looked at us weirdly, but it wasn't unusual. The fact that we just got out of a burning car wasn't the weirdest thing people looked at us for. The weirdest thing we got looked at for was so weird that it can't really be put into English.

Peter and I were already looked at as aliens in good ole Georgia. Peter was born in Georgia, but somehow he's still an alien. Okay, because that makes sense. #whattheactualfuck?

Peter grabbed today's newspaper and the immodium and paid for it. We then went to the car that Pennywise the Car-Repairing Clown magically fixed.

"Oh wow! The car looks brand new! What's the fee?" Peter asked with happiness.

"Tomorrow, you have to fix the drywall that fell from the wall," Pennywise the Car-Repairing Clown said.

"Nooooooo!!!!" Peter said while he started to cry. His face literally embraced the cry.

"Sorry, buddy. That's the fee for fixing the car," Pennywise the Car-Repairing Clown said.

Peter continued to cry while I gave him a hug and said, "There, there." three times.

"Peter, Peter, Peter," I said. "It will be okay. It's just one day of drywalling."

He stopped crying and sniffled a bit. "I know, but that's bad enough," he said.

"It is," I said.

"Thank you, Pennywise the Car-Repairing Clown," Peter said before his mother called again. "Mom! What?!"

I rolled my eyes. "She's making me nervous," I said.

"Yes, Maaaahhhhmmm," Peter said as he rolled his eyes.

"I thought you said you were on your way. Where the fuck are you? Where's my newspaper?" Godiva asked.

"I'm on 124, Maahhhhhm. There's a stupid amount of traffic, and a clown is holding everyone up on the road," Peter said as he was beating himself with the newspaper.

"Oh I hate that damn road!" she said. "Get home, you asshole."

"Love ya, too, bitch," Peter said.

She hung up on him. He hung up on her.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," Peter said.

We got in the car and drove the fuck away from Smellville's Wal-Mart.

"Your mother is fucking unbelievable today," I said as I sighed.

"She and every goddamn thing else. If it weren't for Pennywise the Car-Repairing Clown, we would have had to walk home. Clowns are a blessing," Peter said.

True. Thank God for Car-Repairing clowns," I said.

"Yeah, really," Peter said with a chuckle.

We remained quiet for the rest of the drive. We were too stressed to handle anything else until we got to the Parker residence.

Peter and I sighed before we exited the car. Peter went ahead of me. He stormed inside, and I followed him like I always do.

When I walked in, I saw Godiva take immodium.

"Thank you. And the paper?" Godiva asked.

"The newspaper! The newspaper! Don't forget the newspaper!" Peter yelled before taking the newspaper out of the bag and beating Godiva with it. Peter's voice became three octaves higher as he screamed, "Here's your newspaper! Here's your newspaper! Here's your newspaper!!!"

Godiva was flat on the bed and staring at Peter with wide eyes.

"Paper! Paper! Paper!" Peter yelled in the same high octave as he continued to beat her with the newspaper. I was jealous. I wanted him to beat me with the newspaper.

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classycollectorartisanposts-blog · 6 years ago

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Gering Nebraska Cheap car insurance quotes zip 69341

"Gering Nebraska Cheap car insurance quotes zip 69341

Gering Nebraska Cheap car insurance quotes zip 69341

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How much qualifies as full coverage insurance?

2003 Honda S2000 insurance rate?

Hi, i'm a 16 year old male. I'm planning on getting an S2000 when I turn 17 and was wondering if someone could give me a ballpark answer on how much, liability only, insurance would cost me per month. Ballpark as in $100-$150, $150-$200, $200-$250... Any help would be very appreciated. Also, just take into fact that I have a perfect driving record and that stuff since I would just recently have gotten my license by then.""

""What is a good site for getting a quote for insurance on a moped, 50cc?""

I need to insure a 50cc moped, does anyone no anywhere I can get some good quotes""

Volvo Insurance ...... ?

I am a 16 year old male and I am looking at the 2010 Volvo C70 for my first car. I was wondering is the insurance really expensive on those ? About how much would my insurance be a year if I get that car ?

How much did you pay for car insurance as a new driver?

....yes......

Is auto insurance legally required to drive your motorcycle in NYC?

I have tried googling the question, and all I get are all ad junk sites trying to get my personal information for free quotes. I cannot seem to find any legal information as to driving a motorcycle uninsured in NYC. I understand it is mandatory to have auto insurance on your car for liability damages, to other parties as well as medical bills. However, I cannot find any information if this applies to motorcycles as well. Do motorcycles fall under this statute as it is an Auto Vehicle? I am not looking forward to any fines and revoking of my license. Thank you in advance.""

""What is the best way to find cheap car insurance if Ur 21. Ive tried all the comparison sites, help??? ?

I've tried all the comparison sites but I'm getting a really high quote.

How much will insurance pay for month old tires and brakes?

I was in an accident after which the insurance deemed my car to be totaled. I had replaced all four tires and rear brakes on the car less than a month back. The claim adjustor says that they will include 50% value of the tires and brakes in the claim payment. Is this normal practice? I do not expect to be reimbursed the exact dollar amount for the parts but 50% seemed like a random value. I was expecting that they will pro-rate it using some formula.

Cheapest insurance company for young drivers?

Just wondering what the cheapest place for a young driver to get insurered is from people's experience, thank you""

Help with Health Insurance?

hi, im a 20 year old male and i have no health insurance. i have deviated septum and need it to be surgically fixed. was wondering if i could join an insurance plan just for that surgery. it is not a pre-existing condition, so could i get the surgery during the waiting period and if not, what are good insurance companies that have relatively low periods.""

What does the average American that already had health insurance get out of Obamacare besides higher premiums?

Peoples insurance rates are being raised already even though Obamacare isn't fully implemented. Mine went up by 34% over last year.

How do I get Car insurance before i get my Drivers License?

I'm under 18 and im getting ready to get my provisional drivers License. They said i need proof of insurance to get my license. But how do i get insurance if i dont have a car? I know people usually are supposed to be added to their parents insurance policy to take care of this, but my parents dont have drive or have insurance........ What do i do? Ive heard that i should get an uncle or grandparent to add me to their policy, but is that true? Help me out... thanks""

""How much will my car insurance go up for 3,475 worth of damage?""

there were no other cars involved and no police report. i am still a dependent on my father's insurance- 23 year old female, however. i have a deductable- just wondering if I am goign to suffer from this...since I am switiching to my own insurance directly after my car gets fixed.""

Liberty Mutual Insurance please help!?

If you use Liberty Mutual for your car insurance, how much is the insurance for two people each under two cars? If not, generally speaking, how much is it for two people to be insured for two cars each? My fiancee and I both have clean records no tickets and in the age bracket of 22-24. Thanks!""

Getting car insurance please help ?

I live in MN And in a small town. And I dont want to ask for car insurance yet. Im just asking and estimate for me One male 18 2 tickets 99 s10 blazer 4 doors 4 wheel drive And if full coverage Would 750 for year be right ? Would that be enough

Insurance and pregnancy...

I am planning to get pregnant in March, 2009. After working things out with my husband, it seems like the best time for us Anyway, my insurance policy will finish in August and I'll have to get new insurance (I won't be able to continue with my current insurance policy for reasons beyond the scope of this question). Will this cause me problems with the new insurance company (I still don't know what insurance I am going to purchase)? Will the NOT cover my pregnancy and delivery and consider it a pre-existing condition? What's your advice? We really don't want to postpone pregnancy any more and now is not the best time for us""

Why should anyone be fined for not buying health insurance?

What should someone do if he/she is unable to afford it? Also, wouldn't such a law actually hurt the people it was supposed to help?""

What car insurance is cheapest for teens in NC to get if theyre on their own?

I get my lisence in april and it looks like my mother isnt going to help with the car or the insurance so i need the CHEAPEST possible insurance available. I live in western NC. Any suggestions?

Which cars are cheap on insurance for a 20year old new driver? And which cars dont drink petrol fast?

I am doing an intense driving course, i would like advice and which cars aint too high on insurance and also which cars dont drink petrol fast as i know some do!""

Which health insurance plans do you like in California?

For individuals which health insurance plans are good for people in good health? Are the Anthem plans a good choice for a family?

Motorcycle insurance?

About how much would insurance cost for a 17yr old High school student. If I was buying a sports bike with around 500cc of power. I'd be on my parents plan. So I would need a guess if using Progressive.

""Cheap car insurance for a 17yr old female, help!?""

Right havent passed yet but been looking as I had last year, last year the cheapest I found was with Quinn-insurance on a Seat Arosa 1.0 2000 3DR, which was something like 700 for Third Party F&T. Now ive been looking everywere, on compare the market, confused, elephant etc and its all like 1500 for Third party F&T and well over 2000 for fully comp :( urgh I cant believe its gone up so much, cheapest ive found so far is with tesco for third party is 1300, which i still think is alot! I no with Quinn it was trying to break into the car insurance market and well obviously got in, is there any other companies that are taking there route? I know it was really cheap and nice. Im not sure if its an arosa I want I did want a yaris 1.0 but thats like 1600 on tesco now :(, its either.. Seat Arosa 1.0 Peugot 206 1.0 Toyota Yaris 1.0 Renault clio 1.1 Citreon Saxo 1.0 But cheapest one ive seen so far is for the Arosa, anyone got any companies I could try quote for?? Also another question, I know i cant pay monthly as im 17, however would high insurance groups like directline allow my mum to pay monthly but in my name? and then i can just pay her directly.. is that possible? or even with tesco? Thanks x""

Fleet Insurance?

Can anyone who has fleet insurance tell me roughly how much would it cost to insure 4 cars for a car rental business. i am doing an a level business studies project and need to know. thanks for your help!!!

What characteristics in a car make the insurance lower?

i am 19 year old male in Ontario buying my first car. and insurance prices are REALLY HIGH! i was just wondering when picking out a car, what i should be looking for that will result in less costlier insurance rates. for ex: certain makes? year? THANKS! also if you have any tips for me, that would be much appreciated!""

What does the Geico insurance commercials mean on tv? Sometimes it makes sense.?

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/how-much-my-monthly-payment-insurance-sports-car-johnny-hayes"

0 notes

lonelybutnotlostsoul-blog · 7 years ago

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Long distance Military Relationships....

So I’ve never been a serious blogger, but that might be changing here soon. Frankly, I think it takes too much time and effort. Up until now, I’ve seemingly had it all together with a pretty casual life. I’m almost 20 years old and currently dating a U.S. Navy Sailor... 2 years and counting.

The reason I’ve decided to take to Tumblr again? I’m lonely. My boyfriend left three days ago to head up to Washington, from there he’ll be going on his first deployment. He will only be gone for two to three months at a time with a two or three months being in, or that’s what I’ve been told so far. Things tend to change, but I don’t think this is one of those. Sorry, I’m not that good at being able to keep up with all these things.... All I know is I love him so I’m kinda just wingin’ it for him.

Anyways, so yeah, I’m lonely. He’s gone and I have no idea when the next time I will even be able to see him again. So that is the reason I’ve started this blog, to keep myself busy while he’s away.

It hit me extremely hard the first day he left, after 8 months of living together and getting to see him every night and on his days off (since he was in the schooling part) his sudden absence hit me like a train. Even while knowing this time was coming, I still wasn’t ready. I can’t describe this feeling and honestly, I’d rather not. Instead, I’m going to keep myself busy with this blog and staying positive for the future.

How we ended up meeting is kind of funny.

We both grew up in the same small town out in the middle of nowhere country part of Cali, with a population of 517, yet had no clue each other existed. I lived pretty much right around the block from him and I grew up knowing his father (a rather popular man around town for being a kinda handyman of sorts), but had no clue he had children my age. A daughter who’s two and a half years older than me, as well as a son who’s only two months older than me.

It took 17 years for us to find each other, on a camping trip. Odd since my mother and his father rarely do anything with each other (not that they don’t get along or anything, they just have different life styles and friends.), but we ended up on a camping trip with them some how anyways.

I met him early July time, knowing he’d be leaving to the Navy in a few months. Honestly, I didn’t expect things to turn into this.

Long story short, we hit it off pretty well. Even after he dropped me in a river on accident, I still make fun of him for that to this day. At the time it was just my mother, my younger brother, and me joining them in camping up at the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range. Joining a rather large group of 4 other adults, two teens, and 6 children. All together it might not have been the most enjoyable camping trip I’ve ever been on, but I had fun with the other two teens. Not knowing that I’d be best friends with one and dating the other.

After the trip, everything went back to normal and I figured I probably wouldn’t ever talk to them again. A few days later Johnny (15 years old at the time) added me into a group chat on Facebook with J (my future boyfriend), who was gone again on a summer camp thing for Eagle Scouts. Johnny and I blew up his phone with messages while he was away, a nice surprise for J when he came back into data range.

It all just ran together. For the first few weeks, I mainly talked to Johnny or in group chat (since I still wasn’t really talking much to J, I hit it off better with Johnny who is one of my best friends now). But soon J and I ended up texting, like all the time. It happened all at once, I don’t even remember how. In a few short weeks, we were texting from the time we woke up until bed time. Goodnight and morning texts flew by and so did the days we spent hanging out. Down at the river bottom outside of town, going for walks, hanging out at the small middle school playground, we did everything this small town could offer before eventually venturing out farther to like the beach and hikes.

Almost every day for the remaining month of summer was spent together, growing closer to the day he would be leaving for basic training (aka boot camp). By the end of September I was hopelessly hooked, when we were at his Mom’s going away party for him I ended up breaking down and crying outside with Johnny. He had already seen it coming I guess, evidently a lot of people had actually. Somehow I managed to pull it together and go back in to enjoy the rest of my time with him, the thought still pretty heavy on my mind.

He was leaving in a few weeks and after he got out of boot camp he’d go away and forget all about me because I was just that girl. Like a sappy story: girl falls for a guy, guy doesn’t know doesn’t care, guy leaves to climb up in the world, girl gets left behind and forgotten and spend the rest of her life in the same old rut of a small town. Right? Skylar Gray’s song “Tower” was on repeat in my head the whole time, not even joking.

The next weekend was his father’s going away party for him, he normally does things separately with them since his parents are divorced. This was when everything completely switched for me, for us. At the party, before everyone had arived there, a small group of us were hanging out upstairs. Johnny, J’s sister, J, and I. J and I had just walked in the room, standing rather close I guess. I’d gotten pretty used to being so close to him, I’d nearly be touching him. Not purposely, just without even thinking.

“So, are you two together yet?” The words fumbled out of Johnny’s mouth before he could stop them, he honestly hadn’t meant it to.

J and I kinda froze and looked at each other, I was so afraid of his answer. Neither I would have been satisfied with. “No” would have hurt more than ever, but if he had said “yes” I would have sternly said no and walked out. Bad experience with an ex in the past; my mother had asked him and he just answered yes, when honestly we weren’t even close to that.

Thankfully neither of those happened, something else did. Something that I respect so much to this day, I’d never had it before. Instead of answering, J nudged me out into the hall around the corner. I found myself leaning against the wall with him a little too close, or it felt that way at least. I was so nervous I couldn’t breathe or even think straight, I liked him so so so much. He was just as nervous as me, if not more. He kind of fidgeted and stumbled over words, looking back now it still makes my stomach feel all fluttery and bubbly.

“I’d like to,” was all he said. My heart felt like it was in my throat, I nodded. It was all I could do, I was nearly in tears and I still couldn’t breathe right. He smiled and asked if I really wanted to be his girlfriend, if possible getting even more fidgety. Of course, I did, I’ve liked him since I felt met him. I told him yes and bam, that’s how we started dating. A week before boot camp. It made him so happy, I was his first girlfriend. He was 18 years old but had been friend zoned all through high school, I was his first. (First everything, what a heavy weight to carry right? Like what if I wasn’t all he’d expected right? Like the first kiss and anything sexual is always a big thing people talk up, I didn’t want to disappoint.)

I was his first kiss.

We went on our first date, to the movies and after we got Starbucks and hung out at a small park while it was dark. I guess he tried to kiss me, I obviously hadn’t noticed and moved away. He thought I did it on purpose trying to avoid it, but I didn’t. After we’d been dating for a while he told me this and I felt really bad after. Our first kiss was a teary and boogerfull one, one that lead to many more. We didn’t kiss until the day before he left, he kissed me while I was in the middle of crying. First off it started that I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, I hate people seeing me cry. I hate it so much. But he forced me to look up at him and then kissed me, it wasn’t very smooth but he did better on the second kiss.

He left for boot camp in October, and it was one of the hardest things I’ve even been through. It’s the second hardest I’ve ever cried. I texted him while he was on his way to the airport, then when he landed in Chicago later the evening. It would be the last I talked to him for like two months, going from talking and hanging out almost every day to him being over 2,000 miles away with almost zero contact at all. I’d never had to go through something like that. It was always just a movie thing, that cute couple thing I never thought I’d be doing. How did I end up in a military relationship??

But once the letters started coming in and going out, it got a little better. I managed to keep myself busy somehow and the next thing I knew I was on a plane to Chicago, Illinois. For his boot camp graduation, he’d made it through and I was invited to travel all the way to watch his class ceremony. I’ve never done much traveling, much less without a family member by my side. So going with his sister and mother alone kind of scared me, I’d only barely met them once or twice and hadn’t really spent much time actually talking with them. (Later I’d grow to love them both so much, they’re both amazing people. His mother has done so much for me and him, I think she is an amazing person I wish I could be more like her for him.)

I found out Johnny was joining us as well as Braden’s mother and little sister, Braden being J’s best friend for high school who’d also joined the Navy at the same time. J and Braden had been in the same class group, so that was pretty cool. I got to meet Braden’s little sister, Hannah. We had a pretty good time in Chicago, even went ice skating (I am not a fan!).

From there both J and Braden were sent to a program in South Carolina, where they spent almost a full year. Braden ended up being sent to another place, he was pretty happy to be there.

8 months ago J finished the first part of the school, so I flew over with his mom and stayed after she left. From there he went into the second part, which he’d graduate from July 7th, 2017. I have to say that I’m so proud of him, I know I never would have been able to do what he did.

Looking back now.... We started dating a week before he left to boot camp, some people thought I was crazy. For a while, I secretly wondered if they were all right and maybe I was crazy. He could cheat on me, with all those ladies who chase men in uniforms... But two years later, no regrets and still as happy as ever. I couldn’t be happier, even though he had to leave for now. I can’t wait to see him again, I plan on making that happen soon. We’ve had our ups and downs, but all together we can make it through it.

I’ll have to write about the road trip from hell sometime, that was the trip coming home having to move all our stuff from a small apartment here so he could go to Washington. Worst. Trip. Ever.

Altogether things worked out, we made it home, and now he’s half way to Washington. We’ll see how this blog thing works out for me.

P.s. to any military girlfriend, wife, boyfriend, or husband out there reading this: Please stay strong, I know its hard but it’s well worth it.

-I am a Navy girlfriend and I am so proud of my sailor

#military girlfriend #navy girlfriend #long distant love #relationship #distance

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l-in-c-future · 7 years ago

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Reading Kim Jong Nam (6)-My father Kim Jong Il, and I :exclusive interviews with Kim Jong Nam by Yoji Gomi

Economic Reform D: the disastrous currency policies

North Korea introduced several rounds of currency devaluation that essentially confiscated ALL the savings and wealth of ordinary citizens and foreign investors and business people. This is a deeper root cause that doesn’t help to build investor confidence.

Since 1974 North Korea has attempted redenomination five times. What marks out all of the reforms, however, is their extremely rapid nature. The most recent changes took place in November, 1992. At the time, the exchange rate between the old and new currency units was pegged at 1:1. At the time, the largest denomination was 100 won. The banks in North Korea exchanged up to 300 won per person to persons over 17. Up to 20,000 won of additional money per individual was received by banks as savings, but anything exceeding this was entirely invalidated. In reality, the whole thing served as a pretext by which the North Korean authorities could funnel out the pocket money of their citizens. The money kept in savings was held until March of the following year, and then each household was allowed to withdraw up to 4,000 won. However, the rest was ultimately kept by the banks, which claimed insolvency. The sudden currency exchange plunged North Korea into chaos. Merchants who had not prepared in advance and Chinese emigrants could be found around university dorms and the living quarters of Shock Brigades, persuading those who did not have money to make exchanges on their half. They gave 300 won to each and compensated them to the tune of 100 won. The people who experienced the heaviest losses were the Chinese-North Koreans in North Korea as merchants. At the time, they mostly held a significant sum of North Korean currency to facilitate their trade in the country. However, the North Korean authorities absolutely refused to convert the North Korean currency in the possession of foreigners. Consequently, these Chinese merchants dumped their currency holdings into the Yalu and Tumen Rivers or burned them, simultaneously pouring out a barrage of invective towards Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il in front of North Korean citizens.

Nevertheless, and despite the 1992 currency conversion, the value of North Korean currency continued to decline into the 2000s, so the North Korean authorities had no choice but to print additional large denomination notes.

Regular redenomination and the printing of high value notes have naturally resulted in declining confidence in North Korean currency. Recently, among the North Korean well-to-do classes, the trend of hoarding assets in gold, US Dollars, Euros or Yuan due to concerns over the plunging value of North Korean currency has become widespread.

http://www.dailynk.com/english/read.php?cataId=nk02900&num=5724

I remembered during a tour to NE China in 2012, I could see that large denomination won notes packed in a notes collection album were sold at any souvenir stalls nearby the streets for just several tens of Renminbi. People joked that because the won notes carry no value that nobody in NK will accept it or use it as a medium of exchange. They rather trade in barter with the Korean minority communities at the border of China than trusting the won.

In 2009, North Korea introduced another major currency reform that effectively nuking the won altogether.

The North Korean regime decided to lop off two zeroes from the existing paper currency, the won, and gave North Koreans less than a week to exchange all their old notes for new ones. The government announced that it would limit the amount an individual can exchange to just 100,000 won — or less than $40 at black-market exchange rates — and any amount above that threshold would be, in effect, worthless. NGOs in Seoul reported that in response to citizens' immediate and widespread anger, those limits were raised to 150,000 won in cash and 500,000 won in bank notes.

http://content.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1945251,00.html

That would effectively decimate private stores of cash wealth in local currency. At the official exchange rate, 100,000 won is the equivalent of $690, and at the black market rate it is worth only $35.

The value of the dollar and the Chinese currency skyrocketed as people rushed to underground money-exchangers, said the Yonhap news agency of South Korea, citing anonymous North Korean traders in China.

Rail stations were crammed with “uncontrollable crowds” of people rushing home to swap their money, said Daily NK, a Seoul-based Web site that specializes in gathering North Korean news, citing informants in Haesan, a North Korean town near China, and other cities.

“It’s all chaos in markets and railway stations,” Daily NK quoted a North Korean as saying.

Many had stored cash to help tide them over during the lean winter and spring months, but now they have suddenly seen much of their savings wiped out, the group said.

“As people rushed to swap money, commercial activities have virtually come to a standstill,” Good Neighbors said in a statement. While some people guessed that the purpose of the reform was to kill private market activities that stoked anti-socialism, there were also other comments that the NK regime tried to control inflation.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/02/business/global/02korea.html

No matter what were the reasons, the chaotic consequences did not cease. In March 2010, a senior official Park Nam Gi became the scapegoat being executed.

Some people speculated that Kim Jong Un was the mastermind behind the 2009 disastrous currency reform as he wanted to showcase certain spectacular achievements in order to appeal to his father Kim Jong Il and to the rest of the senior officials in the regime in order to consolidate his crown successor status.

There were rumors that Kim Jong Un launched the ambitious reform as part of the intensive power competitions with Kim Jong Nam. Wikileaks published a telegraph from Kim Jong Nam that he openly opposed the 2009 currency reform.

https://wikileaks.org/plusd/cables/10SHENYANG4_a.html

During the face to face interview with Kim on 13th Jan 2011, Yoji asked the Kim brothers’ roles int the 2009 currency reform and the wikileaks telegraph.

Yoji: You mentioned during your interview (note: by The Asahi Shimbun on 9th Oct 2010 at Beijing) that you wish your brother Jong Un could lead his people to live a prosperous wealthy life. Do you feel people’s life at North Korea becomes more abundant?

Yoji: I haven’t gone to Pyongyang recently and therefore I don’t feel such changes. From the external information that I obtained, I regret that kind of (more abundance and wealthy) life hasn’t come to reality.

Yoji: North Korea launched a currency reform two years ago (diminishing the nominal values of won notes). People said that this initiative was raised by Jong-un for mandatory execution. Please talk about your view on this issue.

Kim: It was a huge mistake and a big failure for the devaluation of currency notes. I didn’t know Jong-un lead the reform. I am not sure whether Jong-un had caused the failure of the currency reform, probably it was a rumor.

Yoji: Have you heard about the Wikileaks telegram? I heard that it was sent by Jong-nam because you opposed the currency reform. That telegram was sent to USA. Was it true?

Kim: From my point of view I could not support or oppose any policy in North Korea. The content of the telegram was not real.”

Even though Kim denied the Wikileaks telegram, he did not deny the failure of the 2009 currency reform and the reality that North Korean people are still living in great poverty under Kim Jong-un when he answered other questions during the interview.

Yoji: It seems like you have different kinds of comments regarding your brother.

Kim: Recently I haven’t been to Chosin even once. According to external news and rumors, I don’t feel he is leading the people toward better lives.

He revealed that the serious famines in the 1990s were not only hurting normal citizens, even the lifestyle of the super elites were impacted. For example, the extremely difficult situation had disrupted the service quality of Koryeo Hotel to a ‘mess’. (note: Koryeo Hotel is a luxury hotel situated at the capital of NK. It is a hangout place for the children and families of the Kim ruling regime and other super elites class citizens.)

As regarding the future of economic prospects in North Korea, Kim wrote in a very lengthy email of 10th Nov, 2011:

“It is unreasonable to demand citizens to live with their tightening belts just because North Korea wants to pursue a strong hardline ideological driven military priority policy.

Recently I have watched an animation film about the development of Rason Special Economic Zone from the internet. There were subtitles saying that Rason must be developed into a city like Singapore according to the instructions of my grandfather Kim Il Sung.

I kept thinking about Rason as I watched the animation film, how could it possible for Rason to become Singapore in the absence of political and economic reforms? With nothing but soil, stones, and seafood products and the lack of large-scale foreign investments from USA and the West, how can Rason develop?”

These summarize the great differences between China and North Korea in the trajectory of reforms. At least at some point of time, China had opened up some windows to create a new set of ideologies that justified the reform. And the first time first Deng Xiao Ping did was to visit USA and the West to solicit investments. At least at some point of time, China caught up the great globalization game of the West. (One could look at and argue that once the political and diplomatic knots with the West were loosen, people would create ideologies from both sides to sail on the tides. Globalization was part of this ideological waves from the West to serve the geopolitical great mission.) At least at some point of time, China had broken away from the Soviet model and the Soviet influence.

Practically, China benefits largely from the cold war between USSR and USA when both USA and USSR/Russia want to change the tilt of balance axis by pulling China toward their sides.

As for North Korea, she has three big superpowers stepping on her back; lack of political will internally (hard to formulate any dedicated political will without the common consensus of the 3 superpowers) and her relationship with China and regional players such as Japan and South Korea are always experiencing bumps and hiccups as well as fires exchanges.

A turtle carrying 3 giant mountains on its back with its limbs being entangled with strings of all sorts trying to cross the river....

#North Korea #economic reform #currency devaluation

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solivar · 8 years ago

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WIP: Ghost Stories On Route 66

The update in which almost everybody knows what’s going on now and yet no one has yet fled screaming into the early morning.

“Yes,” said Hanzo and Zenyatta, more or less simultaneously and in reasonably identical disapproving tones, to their mutual surprise.

Hanzo inhaled the steam rising off his cup of tea, took a fortifying sip, organized his thoughts, and began to speak, pausing only when the food carts paused next to their table. He told them about the trip itself, the breakdown, the walk through the desert, the ranger and their drive back to the car the next morning, and precisely how everything had gone horribly, hideously wrong from that point forward. He even copped to talking to Zenyatta first, which earned them both a half-startled, half-hurt look from Genji. When he finished, the table was covered in half-empty plates of huevos rancheros, honey-coated sopapillas, carne adovada burritos, pork xiao long bao, sesame buns, and a crock of hot and sour soup. He helped himself to a little bit of everything while the others digested what he told them.

“Really? That was your takeaway from his story?” Lucio asked.

“It was the takeaway that doesn’t make me want to run screaming back to Korea.” Hana replied, sweetly.

Hanzo buried his face in his soup bowl in an effort to disguise the fact that all the blood was rushing into his head with such violence he could hear it roaring in his ears like a gale-force wind. One one side, he could feel Zenyatta heroically controlling the urge to add his encouragement to the chorus; on the other, he suspected that Genji was restraining something considerably less supportive.

Four hands went up; Hanzo abstained, since he felt his opinion on the matter should be fairly self-evident.

“I am not entirely certain those are tentacles,” Hanzo murmured into the surface of his soup.

“I asked for your help -- you have nothing to apologize for, Zenyatta.” Hanzo drank the last of his bowl. “Perhaps I should -- “

“Take a leave of absence and put a couple thousand miles of ocean between you and whatever that thing is?” Genji suggested helpfully.