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poetzproblem · 5 years

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Have You Ever Really? Part III

A/N: Part III by request. There may also now be a part IV. Under the cut, or read at FF.Net or AO3.

They don't win Nationals.

They don't even place after Finn Hudson's monumentally stupid attempt to kiss Rachel on stage at the end of their ill-advised duet. Rachel hadn't reacted quite quickly enough to dodge it completely, which had only made her effort to duck away from his unwanted attention even more obvious to the judges.

Santana had nearly ripped Finn apart as soon as they'd gotten off stage, and Quinn suspects her anger and disgust wasn't entirely on her own behalf. She's seemed oddly less antagonistic to Rachel ever since Rachel had come out to them—or maybe it's not odd at all. Maybe Santana actually feels an unexpected kinship with Rachel now over their mutual attraction to the ladies (even if Santana still isn't outright admitting what everyone already knows). Or maybe she just feels sorry for Rachel for nursing a hopelessly unrequited crush on Quinn.

Quinn wonders what Santana would think if she knew that Rachel's crush wasn't as hopeless as everyone believes.

All that Quinn knows for certain is that she hasn't been able to stop thinking about Rachel since she'd serenaded her in glee, and she'd grown more and more impatient and irritated every time that Rachel had scurried away from her in the hallways or sat across the room from her in their shared classes or suddenly decided that she absolutely had to hang all over Jesse St. James everytime that Quinn tried to approach her in glee. So, of course, Quinn had needed to make it clear to Rachel that she expects her to stop acting like a frightened little mouse and start acting like—well, like Rachel fucking Berry. Really? If Rachel has a thing for Quinn, then Quinn should get the same treatment as the boys in the form of thoughtful gifts left in her locker and weird couple's calendars and loud, dramatic (and often musical) declarations of Rachel's undying affection and loyalty.

What Quinn does get immediately following the kiss that missed, surreptitiously tucked into her duffle bag in their shared hotel room, is a foil-wrapped Hershey's kiss (undoubtedly from the craft services table that had been set up for the competing show choirs) taped to a handwritten note that says, 'I'm sorry. Your lips are the only ones I want to kiss.'

Quinn feels a rush of warmth spread from her chest all the way up to the tips of her ears, and her eyes dart around the room in search of Rachel, only to be disappointed that she hasn't made her way back yet. Well, Quinn supposes that she'd actually beaten them all here before slipping away again to sulk in private over their loss. She doesn't see Kurt anywhere either, and he's been crashing in the girl's room with them.

Quinn gazes down at the note again, palming the candy kiss and catching her lip between her teeth to contain her grin—a grin that instantly disappears when Santana drops onto the mattress in front of her with a frown.

"That better not be some pathetic love note from Finnvasive." Quinn tucks it protectively against her chest. Santana's eyes narrow on the motion, but she doesn't make a grab for it. "It'd be just his style to come crawling back to you now that Berry dodged his slobbery advances in front of a thousand witnesses."

"I don't think there were that many people there today," Mercedes muses, rummaging around in her own suitcase for something or other.

"Enough for a well deserved public humiliation," Santana scoffs, crossing her arms. "If I was Berry, I'd've slapped him for trying that shit."

"Rachel is a professional," Tina chimes in with a dreamy, little smile. "I think she handled it the best way she could under the circumstances."

"You would," Quinn mutters under her breath, sending a glare her way.

"What was that, Quinnie?" Santana needles. "Why don't you share with the class?"

Quinn turns her glare on Santana. "Finn is an ass," is all she bothers to say.

Santana snickers. "True 'dat."

"He totally didn't pay attention to his cues," Brittany adds, throwing herself across the bed beside Santana. "Rachel's all about the sweet lady kisses now." She smiles at Santana, who blushes tellingly before glancing away.

"Which is still all kinds of weird, if you ask me," Mercedes says, shaking her head.

"No one did," Santana snaps.

Mercedes holds up her hands defensively. "Hey, I just mean that she's been moonin' over Finn for two years and all of a sudden she's singin' a love song to," she trails off with an embarrassed look towards Quinn. They all know who Rachel was singing to, but it's a truth that no one but Santana has been brave enough to say out loud in Quinn's presence.

"I'm surprised you're handling that so well," Santana muses with a smirk.

Quinn shrugs, mentally putting on her cool indifference like the mask it is. "It's hardly her fault that I'm irresistible."

Santana barks out a laugh. "You wish, Blondie."

"I'm sure Rachel will find someone else to focus her attention on soon enough," Tina offers with what Quinn supposes is meant to be a reassuring smile—it looks fake to Quinn.

"I guess you'd better make sure it isn't Mike," she warns Tina cattily.

Tina's brows furrow in confusion, but whatever she might have said is lost to the awkward silence that descends on the room when Rachel and Kurt step inside.

"What did we miss?" Kurt asks suspiciously after no one says anything for a solid thirty seconds.

Santana rolls her eyes. "Just our pity party for coming in twelfth."

Rachel whimpers, shrinking into herself. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her eyes cast down to the floor as Kurt wraps an arm around her and gives her a comforting squeeze.

Tina reaches out to touch Rachel's arm with a sympathetic smile. "It wasn't your fault."

"It was Finn's," Quinn grits out, scowling at Tina.

"Don't sweat it, midget," Santana dismisses with a bored wave of her hand. Rachel glances at her in surprise before gazing around the room, as if to make sure no one else is actually blaming her for this. When her eyes finally settle on Quinn, Quinn offers her a meaningful smile, subtly motioning to the note still cradled against her torso. Rachel's eyes dart down and then back up, and Quinn knows she's gotten the message by the shy smile on her face.

They don't talk about it. They can't. They don't really have a moment where they can be alone for the rest of the night or the next morning when they're all rushing for the airport and then stuck together on a long bus ride of listening to Santana take shots at Finn while Finn constantly whines about it and Mr. Schuester yells at them all to remember they're a team.

And then Quinn is being whisked home by her mother, and even if she is entertaining the notion of letting Rachel Berry woo her, she's so not letting her mother clue into anything that's going on in her head right now.

But it becomes very clear on Monday morning that Rachel has taken Quinn's encouragement and run with it. There's a gardenia with a green ribbon tied into a bow waiting for Quinn inside her locker, which is just more proof that Rachel had been the one responsible for Quinn's prom corsage.

A fact that's confirmed when Quinn tracks down Rachel in the bathroom to ask her about the flower.

"I wanted you to have a perfect night," she admits, picking nervously at the strap of her bag.

Quinn smiles, charmed by the admission. "Because you...like me?"

Rachel swallows nervously, nods once. "And because Finn didn't seem to be very enthusiastic about something that was obviously important to you."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "I don't want to talk about him. I want to know how long you've liked me." Because this whole thing has seemed a little sudden and out of the blue. Mercedes hadn't been wrong about that.

Rachel catches her lower lip between her teeth and shrugs, looking mildly perplexed. "I'm not entirely sure. I think it's been happening for a while, but I failed to take note of it until…" Her cheeks turn a little pink. "Well, until I just did."

Quinn shakes her head, a bit perplexed herself. "I don't understand how you could. I've generally been awful to you." She'd slapped her at prom, for God's sake. "Unless...I mean, I get it if it's just a physical thing." It wouldn't be the first time Quinn had been the object of someone's dirty fantasies and it won't be the last. She's hot and she knows it. It's only natural for people who like girls to desire her. And yet the thought of that being all this is for Rachel bothers her more than she can put into words.

"That's not it," Rachel quickly denies, frowning adorably—as if she's angry at Quinn for even suggesting it. "I mean, it's obviously a factor. You're impossibly beautiful." And she blushes again, turning positively red. "But…" She runs her tongue across her lips (and why is Quinn only just noticing how often she does that and how sexy it is?) and takes a breath while she composes her thoughts. "When I told you that you're a lot more than that, I meant it, Quinn. You're smart and resilient and so much kinder than you give yourself credit for. Every time you've let me catch a small glimpse of the person you really are, I've only wanted to know more." She glances down to the floor, looking suddenly shy again. "I want to know you. To know who you are and what you're thinking. And I'm honestly not sure if I've ever cared enough to really know that about anyone else."

Quinn nearly loses her breath at that. "Not even Finn?"

Rachel huffs out a silent laugh. "I thought I did at one point, obviously, but the discovery of who Finn Hudson really is left something to be desired." She shrugs a little sadly. "I'm afraid there was only so much interest I could muster for video games and football."

Quinn bites back her smile. "How do you know the same thing won't happen with me?"

"I don't," Rachel concedes. "But I've seen the books you read for pleasure, so I suspect that you're going to keep me interested in knowing more about you for quite some time."

"More than just what it's like to kiss me?" Quinn husks, stepping closer.

Rachel's eyes widen, and she inhales sharply through her nose. "Did Finn tell you?"

Quinn frowns in confusion. "Tell me what?"

"That I asked him…" She cuts herself off, realization sparking in her eyes. "You were referring to the note, weren't you?"

Quinn's confusion disappears, and she grins ferally. Because she is smart, and she knows exactly what Rachel was about to say. "Did you ask Finn what it was like to kiss me?"

Rachel doesn't answer, but her blush does. "Why are you being so open to this? You should be telling me to stay away from you."

She probably should be, but she isn't going to. "I guess that's just one of those things you're going to have to discover about me." Quinn steps away from Rachel, shouldering her own bag before sending Rachel a wink. "Maybe you'll even get a first hand answer to that other question of yours. If you're up for it."

She leaves Rachel sputtering as she saunters out of the bathroom with an extra sway in her hips and a grin on her lips. It's the best she's felt about herself in a very long time, and if she's being honest, she thinks she's probably been mostly wooed by Rachel already. It hadn't taken much more than that little speech of hers. But Quinn isn't about to pass up the chance to be treated to more of the same.

It's really no surprise to anyone that Rachel once again has a song prepared for glee.

"Just a little something to lift our spirits after our disappointment," she explains, but there's a twinkle in her eyes when they seek out Quinn that Quinn fully understands the moment she begins to sing.

"Well you done done me and you bet I felt it I tried to be chill but you're so hot that I melted. I fell right through the cracks And now I'm trying to get back."

Quinn barely stifles her giggle at Rachel's song choice. It's not exactly a standard love song, but the message is still pretty clear, especially when she's so obviously singing to Quinn.

"Before the cool done run out I'll be giving it my best-est, And nothing's going to stop me but divine intervention. I reckon it's again my turn To win some or learn some. But I won't hesitate no more, no more. It cannot wait. I'm yours."

Rachel's dark eyes are on Quinn while she makes her musical declaration, but then Rachel is grinning and dancing around the rest of the room for the second verse, doing a fair job of pretending this is for the entire glee club. Quinn knows better, and when she glances around the room, she sees all their friends smiling and enjoying the performance.

But at the end, Rachel's eyes come right back to Quinn for her very last—

"This, oh this, this is our fate. I'm yours."

Quinn thinks she's pretty okay with that.

And Tina can suck it.

#have you ever really?#part iii #faberry #ficlet

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oopsitsmyfandoms · 6 years

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The Squip Squad goes to Disney World

This is a random list of head canons i compiled. i could literally go on for sooooo long about them and disney cause i practically live there but i thought that might be excessive

so lets start off with them flying to disney from new jersey and how much of a train wreck that would be

the only one of them who has ever flown before is chloe. she went to visit one of her relatives in CA before in like 6th grade so obviously she's an expert on flying because of that one experience

christine is the mom of the group, texting all of them beforehand giving them lists of what to pack

she goes through everyone's suitcase before they leave for the airport

this is why they're behind now as they scramble through the airport trying to find the security check

"Chloe i thought you knew where the hell we were going"

"I do!"

she doesn't. she has no clue

they end up getting stuck at the metal detectors because OF COURSE brooke brought her opened starbucks and they wouldn't let her through the checkpoint with it and she REFUSED to go without it

so she's standing there and they all wait on her before going through the like (rookie mistake)

once she's done with her venti-whatever-frappachino, they go through the line

and just their luck the metal detector is like freaking out when rich goes through the line halfway through their entire group

and he starts freaking out cause what if its the squip and what if they're not going to let him on the plane and this is going to ruin his magical fun time with his friends that he rightfully deserves

but its not the squip. he didn't take his belt off and they're all gucci.

his tiny mistake cost them an extra 30 minutes wasted though

so yet again they're scrambling through the airport trying to find terminal 13B

they finally find it and just their luck the flight was delayed 40 minutes

"it's all good guys!" the ever so optimistic christine says, "now we can hit up the food court!"

cue the entire squad cheering for food

jake flips his shit when there's a sabarro in the food court. he drags rich with him but all rich wants is a cinnabon

"jake its 9am why the fuck do you want sabarro instead of breakfast? c'mon man"

the girls wander around looking for a healthy snack place

they end up finding a really cute one with a little coffee shop and they stock up on snacks and drinks for the plane ride

brooke finds the pinkberry and literally cries because holy shit she's going to disney and the airport has a pinkberry this is the best day ever

michael and jeremy get burgers and find themselves wandering around the gift shops and little boutiques

jeremy realizes he left his earbuds at home and then they go on an adventure to find him a pair that aren’t ridiculously expensive (which is nearly impossible but chloe finds them in a store and finesses her way into getting him a deal)

they all end up getting back to the terminal just before their flight lands

brooke has a mental breakdown cause they're supposed to board the plane in 5 minutes and her venti-whatever-frapp just hit her and she REALLY HAS TO PEE but airplane bathrooms terrify her

so her and jenna SCOOT to the bathroom cause no girl ever goes alone and the rest of the squad gets everyone's carryons ready

as soon as brooke and jenna get back they get to board

jenna is decked out with her travel pillow, eye mask, and earbuds

she puts on a netflix series and legit shuts herself off from the rest of them the entire flight because they're loud and rambunctious as hell

christine gets a window seat while jeremy sits between her and michael. they're the most sane of the group.

jenna also has a window seat a row up from them with chloe between her and brooke.

chloe had the isle seat but brooke gave her the puppy dog eyes cause she wanted to be able to talk to rich and jake across the isle

THANK GOD the seat between rich and jake was empty because those two literally sprawled out across it the entire time (brooke would occasionally hop over there to chit-chat when chloe would doze off)

CUE A LIZZIE MAGUIRE PLANE MOMENT BETWEN ALL THE PRECIOUS COUPLES AT ONE POINT IN TIME

the almost 3 hour plane ride actually isn't so bad. jeremy's anxious self almost had a panic attack at take off, but michael and christine were able to calm him down.

when they land the entire squad is very cranky from being cooped up side by side for such an amount of time, but as soon as they get off the plane and into the airport their attitudes get better

they're at the airport ready to get on the magical express transportation when michael sees the disney store and forces everyone to go inside

they easily blow some money between the NASA, disney, & universal stores in the airport and then they go get in line to get on the magical express

it takes them to their hotel (they stay in art of animation resort and i know thats hella expensive but let my kids live this is a hc so anything can happen)

they end up staying in the cars themed suites because rich and jake DEMANDED it

they won't stop making 'KACHOW' noises the entire fucking trip

so they all unpack their stuff and get ready to go eat dinner in the parks. they decided to go to magic kingdom the first night because it has the most food options

they end up going to cosmic ray's starlight cafe and the entire time the whole group is rich's impulse control so he will refrain from jumping up on the stage with the animatronic alien and dancing cause it is his first day and they do not want him getting kicked out of the park

so they finish eating and go get in line for rides with smaller lines since they're all tired and want to make the most of their time since its like 8pm by the time they're done eating

they ride pirates of the carribean and thank god they were the only ones on their boat because it erupted in a splashing war and they almost got kicked out but somehow they miraculously didn't

cue christine becoming a total mom saying 'if you don't keep your hands in the ride at all times we are going home immediately"

they then go over to the haunted mansion

michael and jeremy are fascinated the entire time about all of the eye tricks the ride plays on people

when they're walking through the interactive graveyard brooke and christine act like little kids, touching all of the interactive stuff they can and squealing when water or air puffs out and sprays them

when they get into the ride chloe is the one that screams just to scream and fuck with people

she thinks its funny but when jake gives her a death glare to knock it off cause he's seriously scared she stops

jenna is the person who tries to take pictures with the flash on and the entire group of people around them (including the rest of the squad) tells her to knock it off

they end the night with some shopping in the main street USA giftshops

brooke and chloe find matching minnie ears and vow to wear them the rest of the trip

this vow ends 15 minutes after they put the ears on cause damn those really hurt your head

the entire squad established that each day they would all disneybound a certain movie and they surprisingly pull it off and it looks AWESOME

like its so good people come up and ask for pictures with them

jenna is the self proclaimed artsy photographer of the group and gets roped into taking all of their pictures

she doesn't mind though cause they're her friends and she enjoys taking the pictures just as much as they enjoy getting them taken

christine has a backpack with extra money, sunscreen, water, portable phone chargers, and snacks just in case anyone needs anything

jeremy and michael do in fact blow all their money at the star wars launch bay

jake and rich blow all theirs on food. like all of the mickey mouse themed snacks? yeah they've each had at least 12 of every kind

brooke and chloe spend their money in epcot going around the pavilions buying trinkets and snacks

christine gets all the plush toys she can get her hands on. jeremy has to cut her off at some point

jenna spends her money at downtown disney at all the stores they don't have back at home

rich and jake definitely buy two of the big turkey legs and try to sword fight with them just cause they're dorks

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z-007 · 3 years

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Asset Zain's Adventures

Fiction

Asset Zain’s Adventures

Agent Zain spent nearly about 3 years doing nothing. Absolutely nothing. He was reading, Ian Fleming, Mathew Dunn, Tom Clancy and the biography of Morten Storm. He had an enormous and abnormal heart beat while reading those texts. He was amazed by the intelligence, prediction of the future and vision. Let alone the abilities of the operatives’ wittiness and abilities to use magicians’ techniques to acquire all they want, by any means necessary. After reading the novels, he kept asking himself “What is the purpose of getting married and raising children, what would he gain after getting stuck in a bloody sanctimonious routine behind the desk, doing paperwork? What would he achieve? What is life without danger, adventure and taking risks? For him, he preferred to be “like a kite dancing in a hurricane”. Suddenly, the phone rang, the headquarters of the secret service told him that he was requested. He bathed in cold water after sprinting, had a double portion of espresso as “he hated small portions of anything”. After he entered the building, he smiled to the secretary, entered the office of the chief, C and stood in front of him. He told him to sit down. He looked at him morosely, it was a look of disrespect, disdain and disgust. He said,” Today is a moment of truth to begin with. You should be ashamed of yourself; you keep wasting your time chase girls. Did you know that there were heads of secret services who lost their life for the sake of women? Terrorists can set you a trap using a woman to get to you. From now on, no contact with female suspects without prior approval. Added to the fact that you keep eating unhealthy food like chocolates and candy, take a look at the weight you gained. You look so embarrassing. Let alone that you wake up 4 pm every day. This will not be tolerated. Take notice, okay?!”, Zain replied, “Of course Sir”. C continued, “this is a very rough mission I have chosen for you, since I’m well aware of your talents and skills. We have a terrorist organization called Phantom that is so dangerous, it funds terrorism and fanatics of the universe and the majority of them are psychopaths, it also funds the nastiest drug dealers of the world and working on a biological warfare project, militarizing chemical formulas to turn them into weapons instead of cures to some stubborn diseases. Your objective is to foil the terrorist organization’s plans in Desert Land, use whatever it takes and the use of brutal force is authorized: including killing and death. Second, arrest Nicolas Matera, the world’s most wanted list for drug-dealing and smuggling Heroin, captagon and raw-opium. He lives in Bolivia. The last one is finding a missing scientist whose phone went dead and held captive in Turkey, he has a very important research and we want to guarantee that this research doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. After you complete those missions, I want you to find out who is the man behind Phantom, it is the hardest part.”. Before you go, report to Colonel Falcon Quest in our training center to retrieve your fitness, be well-versed in unarmed combat, explosives, firearms and a host of other intelligence techniques, you are supposed to be as fit as a fiddle. If you fail your mission, I will have your guts for garters.”

Fitness & Training

Before exiting C’s office, I turned around and said “Thank you Sir”, he replied, “for what?”, “The truth, I answered. He closed the door behind, walked out of the building and strolled out of the grim para-military office in the city street. It was a hot and humid day, and women started to show the beauty of their bodies, from their locks of their hair, to their shell toenails inside their heels, let alone that “only God knows how many of them are on this planet, let alone where”. As he reached the tunnel, he went downstairs, he found the center. It was a brilliantly designed gym with a hall built next to it. Colonel Quest was a man in his late forties, he had a body which was similar to that of Arnold Schwarzenegger, or Hulk. His body was not only huge, so were his experiences, fighting, skills and wars. He made me believe and realize that not all angels carry the harp and sing. Some of them are warriors. He welcomed me boisterously. He was sanguine and exuberant. He treated me like his son who was also my friend. His name was John. Firstly, he asked me to take my shirt off, took a look at my body to examine it. He said, “I have an MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) program for you, I want you to promise me to follow your diet and exercises of Kickboxing, judo, Muay Thai and weightlifting. Concerning your diet, I will be sorry to inform you that you have to stop eating and drinking sweet things. It was a very hard thing at the beginning, but I said to myself “when there is a will, there is a way.” He started his first day at gym, He used to feel dizzy and nausea, it was like that for two weeks, maybe three, later the results came up step by step, he gained speed, muscles, balance, endurance. The hardest thing for him was split up various exercises, added to stretching of course. The pain they cause for a man, is similar to that of renal colic, the stones that are formed in the urinary tract, which cause bleeding. They were necessary to release the pelvis joints to perform the kicks like front, back, round and round house, and sometimes flying while doing them which made them twice harder. They were necessary to make his body like elastic rubber. 4 months later, a committee was gathered to elevate him, he was told that he needs to do what is he asked to do. He did shadowbox with kicks that he had been given, after 7 minutes of this hard work, he did 80 press-ups, 100 sit-ups and 20 pull-ups, after that he bowed for them and being told that he could leave. After that the Colonel told me via phone call that he was so proud of him. Moreover, he taught him to shoot, swim and dive. After getting done with all the work, he received a message telling him to go to the airport and wait for his flight to Desert Land.

First Mission

After he arrived, he took a taxi to the hotel, took a shower in cold water to cool the heat he felt at that dreary spot of region. He ate grilled meat, a tumbler of raki with ice and cold water, and started glaring at the ceiling, thinking about how many lives is he going to end, exterminate or take. If it was the other way round, got caught, what might they do to him? will they cut off his throat, boil him alive, soak him in gasoline and burn him…etc. All those scenes kept circulating, but he made up his mind not to think about it and spare himself this misery, he said to himself” Carpe Diem for Now Agent Zain.”. Next day, he went to the mosque, he performed the role of a hater of the modern civilized war, whose brain was not concerned about anything except converting people to Islam with threatening people with their lives. He got himself well-known among his so-called Brothers of Awareness individuals, he kept gaining their trust by setting up terrorist cells inside the city, promoting people to do the things he was totally against. When the time came, he got on a truck with the terrorists, and they reached the location of the ISTCE, they were successors of ISIS, it stood for Islamic State Task Force, even worse. Firstly, they swore to defend the Caliphate (Abu Bader El Iraqi) with their blood, to be loyal to the organization and do whatever it takes to protect it. Second, He announced his defection and betrayal on the internet, he made everybody hate him (family, friends, acquaintances and everybody). He did all of that for the sake of the game he was playing. Third, he was called by the Caliphate to kill the infidel they captured, they told him that he was a private eye, a snitch and a spy. When he approached him, held his head looked at his face, it was his bloody friend, his body shivered, he started shaking as if he had Parkinson. He killed the humanity inside him, so he did do the memories he had with him, the brethren, and the principles he grew up with. Hence with a heart as hard as a stone, and with a blood that was so cold like a wizard of ice, he stabbed his neck and removed his head out of his body, blood oozed out like a volcano and he uttered a scream similar to that of a monster. He passed his test of devotion, gained the Caliphate’s trust and he was told that he is required to finish the next stage. They started training members to behead, burn, shoot and kill. They were psychopaths brought from all over the world. Only God can tell what are they made of, or what their make-up was. This was frightening to be thought of at the very least. While he was learning to do the most gruesome things in the world, he saw a General of the spy agency he was working for, he was a traitor with a very high position, with vital information. Agent Zain was lucky for not being spotted, maybe the beard and the turban hid his facial prints. And this General was not African, Asian or Muslim, he was a blonde man with blue eyes. After the tasks were given to the Asset inside ISTC, he was ready to capture the terrorists whose faces were recognized, or tear down anyone or anything that reminded him of the organization in Desert Land. He started tracing their calls, locations and their contacts, simply because the devil lies in details. One day, he captured a man whose name was Jihad Ahmad. He was about to send children with C4 explosive charges inside civilian’s gathering. The moment, Zain shot him in the leg, he was immobilized. He later pressed the wound with his leg and he started yelling. He then looked at his eyes that were full of hatred, and asked him” Do you think that you are doing the right thing, killing women, children and families for an illusion that you are going to rule the world by Sharia Law. In the Quran, there is no place for suicide-bombing, killing and slaughter, you misunderstand the only one book you read in your life, which is ironic and pathetic.”. In addition to that, there is a verse in the Quran that says” You have your religion, and I have mine.”, there is another one that says, “who wants to

believe, believe, otherwise it is his own choice”. Jihad revealed that there was a psychiatrist who brought psychotics and schizophrenics, he exposed them to a radiation that made them believe that Allah was speaking with them: telling them to slaughter infidels, so they became professional killers. After that he picked up his phone, opened saved pictures of the victims, some were his family, wife and children’s bodies were shred by automatic fire bullets. This led to the outburst of his tears and moans of how they brainwashed him to turn this innocent man to a killer for a Caliphate who thought that he was a good Muslim. He realized that he killed the people who loved him most. Zain replied” Did you see the outcome of what you are doing, you are working for your enemies by the way. You showed them that the nation of Islam, doesn’t accept freedom of thought, expression and education. Now they are 100% sure that your nations will never ever flourish”. He stood up, wiped away his tears, his face told Zain that he was the man who grew conscious, a man who listened to the voice of wisdom. Then he said” We will work together and take that tyrant down” That’s how he recruited him, by using emotional intelligence. Days went by, their targets got ambushed by locations. What Hollywood revealed about espionage work was not 100% correct, an agent was supposed to be a grey person, someone who was seen and forgotten at the same moment. It was mostly about writing reports, sending coded texts that looked like any other text, but held a message, and the army would intervene, the agent should not always shoot or blow something up. It would be very conspicuous. In the intelligence work, discretion and secrecy are key. Following that we they kept turning over enough rocks, safe houses and locations that they were bound to be under one of them. The days of ISTC had become numbered, the Caliphate approached them and told them that he needed them. When they went back to their HQ, he was panicked, shaking and he had the looks of a very miserable man. He said, how did the security found out about Abu Kifah Al Massry, Zain acted like he never heard of him, despite that he was the one who shot him at point-blank. One of the guards beckoned him to come, and he said “Zain Ibrahim is a spy.”, it was the General whom he saw at the training camp exposed him to his enemies. His name was Cane Walker. He was someone with a very high positions, he had access to the secret service files and data. He turned Zain inside-out. All of a sudden, the guards gathered around him and his new ally, the one who he turned against his people, Jihad Ahmad. They had been dragged to a room full of starving dogs, and he said” Now, it is time for you to die a very gruesome death”, one of the guards whispered to Zain” One minute, one minute”. Bang, it was a F-35 that took off from an aircraft carrier in the Arab Gulf, flames, everywhere, all the guards and individuals started running for their lives. Jihad Ahmad strangled the caliphate with his bare hands to avenge his family and the innocent lives he took away under the orders of this murder who had no appreciation of human life. When Zain approached the General to find out about who was he working for, he said “Do you think it’s over Zain, this is just the beginning”, he said “I want a name!!”, he died the moment Zain tried to take something out of him, the trail gone cold.

Second Mission

Agent Zain felt depressed from the fact that his mission was incomplete, he was absolutely sick of not finding out who was the man behind all of this hellish journey he had to take. He noticed a bizarre thing taking place all over the world, it was drugs. Bolivia was the richest country of drugs’ types, like Alice’s wonderland. Lovely nature, seaside, the world’s best and most beautiful women. It was such a waste that this country was nearly on the verge of the abyss because of narcotics. Youth who can enlighten the world with wisdom, logic and educational creativity a digging their own graves. They have the illusion that they are escaping misery and melancholia. They claim that they make them happy. The world did an awful mistake by legalizing marijuana, forgetting the fact that it causes psychosis, a severe mental illness. The symptom of this disease will be crystal-clear after their body demands this nasty, dirty bloody substance. He got acquainted with a drug-dealer from who bought marijuana. He also got himself acquainted with all drug-dealers of the world by injecting heroin, opium and the most lethal drugs in his veins, he did it not for the love of these poisoning substances, it was to gain the loyalty of drug and narcotics’ cartels. It was purely professional. He did it after C informed him to cooperate with Interpol, so he went to their headquarters and gave him a traceable phone with bugs to put inside the cell phones of the drug cartels, so that one of them would have led him to the new drug lord, the successor of Pablo Escobar and Franz Sanchez, his name was Nicolas Matera. While Zain talked and behaved as someone who loved drugs, breathed them and adored them, learned that there was a place called the Tri-Borders area, or the Triple frontier. The place where the borders of Brazil, Argentina and Paraguay. While Agent Zain lived in that spot, it was like a small image of hell. Terrorists of all geographic spots came to it, Al Qaeda, ASU, Al Nusra Front and ISIS. It was like a heaven for them. Simply because drug-dealers used to finance them to buy weapons, arms and military supplies. Also, sex-trading, pedophilia, human-trafficking, prostitution and paid-assassins took a share as well. Everybody had a share. It was full of youth who were supposed to be wise, snorting and filling themselves with this sort of toxins. It was an import-export area of this curse. As Agent Zain got himself blend with their communities. He also got used to the torture scenes of cops and presumably police informants. They used to tear out their hands, arms, forearms, legs and every damn muscle to implement the highest amount of pain while keeping the victim alive for as long as possible. After the victim announces to whom he was working, he gets a shot between the eyes. One day all drug dealers made “A Deal of A Century”, the deal was about to load 800 Tons of every drug into lorries, take the Tri-Border spot as an area of export, and later Nicolas Matera would have made more than 100 billion dollars. The lorries were filled with gasoline, and later they take them to the scientists to release the drugs from the gas. Agent Zain, went to the bar, and sent a text message by a mobile application that made him go incognito to the Interpol. He told them the following,” Hundreds of tons of candy will be loaded in lorries to the candy shop known as, The Cuidad Del Este.”, that was the area where the lorries were about to be ambushed. “Added to that, the lorries will not go alone, they will be accompanied by so thrilled children.”. “The candy” stood for drugs shipment and “children” stood for armed-smugglers travelling via motorcycles and cars. Later the phone of Agent Zain buzzed, it was a message saying, “Thank you for your contribution”. The thugs started loading the trucks into the lorries, the loading process took 42 hours. Agent Zain Ibrahim, had to conceal the terror, fear of being caught, getting tortured and deliver all his intelligence do the miscreants behind his smile, jokes and hard work lifting and carrying the shipments. Later

Nicolas Matera, told them that he wanted the operations to be success, if failed, you will be exterminated. The moment the lorries started their engines, his heart was beating hardly and fast, he was lucky that no one of the knob heads took notice. The phone of Matera’s assistant rang, and was told to go. Later, they started travelling. They were about ten lorries, with 4 cars in the front, a raw of motorcycles at sides, each one with his SMG behind his back, with 2 at the back. When they reached Cuidad Del Este, there were people claiming that they were drug dealers, but they weren’t, they were spooks. This kind of intelligence operation was called “The Sting”, which the spy poses as a terrorist and trap the suspect and get him drained from information, about people, places and plans. And Interpol deployed snipers on roofs and the army was also involved. The gang welcomed the claimed drug dealers, smiled to them and they asked “where is the money?”, “In the boot of the car” they answered, all of the sudden, the military, cops and forces popped up from the middle of nowhere. The thugs had no choice, but to surrender. They were well surrounded. All of the thugs, and drivers were taken to interrogation, the Interpol applied the necessary pressure to find out who was behind them. They told them that after the information they gave to the investigators were correct, they would serve a reduced sentence. Moreover, they brought their mobile phone to the information section, they were all wired to computers. The purpose of that was to find out the trace of all messages,30 was from other neighboring states in South America, 60 from some Arab countries and different terrorist cartels, and all of them were protected by a server in Bolivia. It was protected by bio-metric security measures. Out of a coincidence, Agent Zain, saw a man who was so thin, wearing big glasses and his jaw was pointed to the front. He was a geek, literally a nerd. He kept working on hacking the server for 10 hours, Agent Zain looked surprised, he asked the lad “Didn’t you get tired?”, he answered “Take a look at this herb, this is called Mate, A product of Argentina, we soak it in cold water and pour 60 degrees boiled water in it, and I drink that for two hours. It helps me to stay awake with full concentration, I would bet that Hulk had drank it before he became green.”, Zain laughed, he tasted it, it was like tea and kept him awake all night. That drink was a hullaballoo of some sort. The information team kept searching, analyzing and hacking for 6 days, no stop, they found, nothing. Absolutely nothing. All of a sudden, one of the computers beeped, and gave a red signal. There were key words, “Police, Candy and Boss.”. Boss, stood as a name for Nicholas, who was presumed to be the drug lord. The secret service approached agent Zain via Interpol, C told him, agent Zain I want you to set up an arrest operation to Nicholas Matera who lives in Bolivia. You are working as a “Red Notice”, Zain replied “Very good Sir.”. Agent Zain, took a bus and then chose a safe house, ordered priests customs so that he could pose to the narco-terrorist as a low-level gangster posing as a religious and pious man, a member of his group, that would have been more convincing. When he reached his castle, it was made of Romanian temples’ stones, it was also facing the beach and full of guards, expensive cars and race vehicles. As he walked his path to the master narco-terrorist of all times, Nicholas Matera. Agent Zain greeted him with biblical words, he spoke fluent Spanish, this is why he had no problem with him. He introduced himself as Priest Basilio Álvarez. Agent Zain saw him. He was a man in his late forties, brown eyes and a moustache, fat and bohemian in some sort. Zain started talking with him about his glories. He said, “I was born a poor man, my father killed my mother when I was young because she cheated on him, and plotting against him, in other words, she was trying to turn him over to the police. And we had to make money anyway possible, so he started smuggling

drinks of all kind, like Whiskey, Vodka and Tequila. We started to get by bit by bit. Later, my father has introduced me to a drug lord who made fortunes out of marijuana, cocaine and we became the richest people in the world. After my father died, I swore that I will do anything in my domain to preserve his legacy and expand his kingdom”. Zain then said, “This is so inspiring, can I become a member of your entourage, especially that loyalty is more important to you than money?”, “Por supesta”. He answered. “Saludos me hermano”, he was overwhelmed by this request. All of a sudden, Matera’s phone rang, it was a call with a photo confirming that Zain was a spook. The same way he got caught in ISTCE, (Islamic State Task Force). It was someone from the very top, Zain swore if he got out, and found out who it was, he would “Turn him to smithereens.”. Nicolas Matera said, “don’t do anything stupid, your cover was blown by someone from the very top. The same people you work for”. “It is true that you turned down my deal of the century, but I’m stronger more than you know. I will lead the whole world to its own grave. Europeans and Americans came to my country to steal our gold, silver, tin, ore and ivory. Arabs from the gulf and middle east, raped our women. They also made women of our regions as sex-slaves. I have a much more gruesome project. It is called Refreshing Air, I have deployed 30 planes filled with Chinese Fentanyl, my pilots will spray it into the atmosphere of our enemies. This will be the most gruesome revenge of my empire.”, Zain interrupted, “You want to spray Fentanyl, it is a drug that kills the pain of stubborn diseases. It is also addictive”, Matera said, “When the fentanyl gets reduced in their blood, they will all come to me and pay billions of dollars and euros. This is how they will lick my boots and kiss them to become bewitched by my charm.” Zain interrupted, “You are bragging about yourself, you will end up in the dunghill of history.” Matera screamed, “Guards, take this gringo to the sewers and soften him up, I’m not done with him yet. I want to hear his pain knocking on my office door in the upper floor.”. The moment they stripped him out of his clothes, they started whipping his skin, kicking him in the testicles and breaking the bones of his face. Later, Interpol noticed that Zain’s phone went dead, so they informed NATO to arrange the arrest of this villain. Then a plane 3000ft in the sky opened its gate and soldiers jumped out of it, deployed their parachutes, landed at the roof of Matera’s castle and cocked their SMGs, AKS’s with silencers and everybody started shooting. Bullets were pouring down like rain. This was a real war. The moment Matera gave orders to kill Agent Zain, he held a piece of broken glass tightly. The moment one of the guards got too close, Zain stuck it in his eye, the guard yelled, Zain untied himself, took the rifle, and shot his way out of the sewers. He started running naked until extraction team took him to HQ. He was unable to think, move or do anything. He said, “What happened?!”, they said “Matera is dead”, “he committed-suicide and the drugs had been taken by authorities.”. Zain went back to the mental-health centre of his secret service’s station. He spent a very long time of rehabilitation, to release the toxins he inserted into his veins that turned him into an irrational human being. He learned that everything he did, came at a cost.

Third Mission

Zain spent nearly a year at hospital. Resisting the aches and itches of his body, the pain of bruises, wounds and tumours. The mental health treatment he went through was beyond hardship, it was harder than the disease. He had psychotic symptoms from the bloody damn drugs as a consequence of arresting Nicolas Matera. He spent about two years to retrieve his vitality and making his brain clear and sharp like knife’s razor. One of the nurses came and said “Zain, you have a phone call”, “Okay”, he said. Zain went to the reception desk, the nurse handed him the phone, it was C who wanted him, he said, “You are requested immediately, you have to report.”, “Yes sir, I’m coming”. Zain had a military haircut; he shaved his beard with a cut-throat razor. He wore his white shirt, black suit and shoes and a blue tie. When he arrived to HQ, smiled to the secretary and told him that he could come in, C looked at him and told him to sit down. C said “Glad to have you back agent Zain, welcome! I’m contained that you have to retrieve your mental health and physical well-being after foiling down Nicolas Matera. The new mission is three more times complicated than the other two. There was a scientist held captive in Turkey. His name is George Cranwell. He was researching a formula to cure cancer. We want you to investigate where and why he was kidnapped. We don’t want the research to fall into the wrong hands, because it could be turned to a deadly weapon. Moreover, our information computers picked up three key words, which were bioweapons, research and password. The signal went dead in Castello de Bodrum. Zain booked himself a flight that lasted 12 hours to Bodrum. When he arrived, he took a taxi and started enjoying the view of the seaside, beaches, blue sky and the beautifully decorated Turkish buildings. After arriving to his hotels, he checked in a suite just up to the beach, put on his swimming trunks and started swimming, free diving wearing his glasses and breathing tube. After he finished, he ordered oysters, crabs, lobsters, fish and Vain De Chateaux, a bottle of French wine. As he got ready, fully-focused and vital, he accessed the Secret Service website from his lap-top, they informed him that the signal of the missing scientist aka George Cranwell, is coming from an abandoned prison site which dates back to Sultan Abdul Hamid. He closed the browser, got up, stretched his muscles, bathed in cold water. Took a BMW G32, attached the silencer to his Beretta 9mm and took AKS-74u assault rifle. He had a full quiver. He looked like a soldier of Spetsnaz or the SAS, a scary human-being without any human looks in his eyes. He drove his way to the unknown site, it was full of bizarre prisons that date back to Middle Ages, iron sharp pointed poles to impale opposers to the Ottoman regime. All of sudden, he heard a scream coming from one of the cells. They were all empty, he had to kill some guards with his silenced Beretta and walked his way to the location. In one of the rooms, Zain saw a man who was bleeding all over himself, Zain asked, “Who was it? Who did this to you?”, “Sakharov”, he answered. “He wanted my research for Project Koroleva”. Zain went out of the room and kept investigating. Out of a bad luck the guards were alarmed as a consequence that one of the guards saw him. They started shooting at him. He took cover, cocked his rifle and the war started. After he illuminated them, he saw the scientist called George Cranwell, Piotr Sakharov was yelling at him. “What is the password of the USB drive?”, they struck him with electricity to cause pain. “Stop!!”, said Cranwell, “I will tell you”. He whispered in Sakharov’s ear. Sakharov whispered to the guards; they took Cranwell to the pole for impalement. Zain saw the brutality of the sight as the pole entered his anus and went out of his skull. What a ghastly sight! Later Sakharov’s phone rang, it was an anonymous phone call. All of which Zain heard was, “Take care of Alexander Vladimirovich”. Zain threw a hand grenade among the guards, and blast. Some of them were torn, others

wounded and the shrapnel cut Mr. Sakharov. As his bodyguard took him to safety, Zain spent a lot of his time setting traps and shooting the fire out of them. As a consequence of their death. Zain cocked his pistol and started looking for Mr. Sakharov as he got closer to them in one of the cells, the bodyguard lifted him above his shoulders and tossed him to the ground, which caused a mild shell-shock. Agent Zain, staggered up to his feet, standing on his pain and slim body compared to the mule’s body. The hand-to-hand combat began. Agent Zain punched his face with his fists, jabs, cross-jabs, hooks and upper-cuts. The bodyguard, kicked him on the knee, which led to Zain’s fall. Still, he had no sense of giving up inside his brain and heart. Zain did a front kick to his skull, flying- round house, hook and sidekicks. He hurt him. It was the moment Zain realized that he was only a man, not a machine. The fight lasted for 15 minutes until Zain picked his Beretta from the floor and shot him between the eyes. When Asset Zain reached Sakharov, he pointed his pistol at him and said, “I’m afraid that you don’t have any assistance now, there is no one to do your dirty work on your behalf”. “There’s only you and me”. Agent Zain asked him, “Why do you want to kill Alexander Vladimirovich? And who is he?” Sakharov swallowed the Cyndie pill to preserve his secret intel added to that he wanted to assure that no single word be told about his employer out of fear and scare. Now agent Zain swore and got a bit angry and confused. So, all that is left for him to go behind Alexander Vladimirovich. Hence, he started searching his personal effects, phones, lap-tops, tabs and personal computers, and informed the Information Branch to find leads about Alexander Vladimirovich. They told Agent Zain that he is staying at the Nevsky Forum Hotel in St. Petersburg. Then he phoned him, Vladimirovich said, “Da?!”, “Brigadier Vladimirovich, this is Zain Ibrahim calling from the Interpol.”, “To what I owe the pleasure of this phone call Zain?”, He said. Zain asked, “Why did low level gangster Piotr Sakharov want you dead?”, “I think you and I better have a drink and talk.”, he answered. “Are you suggesting an alliance?”, Zain asked. Vladimirovich said, “Meet me at the hotel called Nevsky, come alone”. Asset Zain booked himself a flight to St. Petersburg. It was a tedious journey that lasted 10 hours inside then airplane. When the flight was over, he took a taxi to his hotel. He met him at the reception desk, he worked for the FSB (Federal Security Bureau), very wise and judicious in his late 50. He greeted him boisterously. Zain asked him, “tell me brigadier, why did Piotr say that he would have you killed? And who do you suspect?”. Vladimirovich smiled to him and said, “You got yourself stuck in a very critical situation, you will be facing a very nasty human being, a rogue KGB major. His name is Alec Rastislav. Rastislav was a psychiatrist and joined the KGB out of a proclaimed devotion to mother Russia. He was a liar for he was exploiting his positions to kill people under his command without the state’s knowledge. He was also stealing millions of dollars and robles to fund his operations. What Russia didn’t know how he could make the world’s worst killers and assassins. All that they know that he was corrupt to the bones, so were his manners”. Zain asked Vladimirovich, “Do you know how we can find him?”, “Well!”, he exclaimed, “We received information that he is treating psychotic and schizophrenic illnesses at his under-water clinic in Banana Beach, Thailand, it is also heavily guarded and secluded of outer influences, except the ravishing underwater corals and reefs, fish and other sea creatures.” Zain said, “We should take a closer look at that clinic”. Vladimirovich added, “Nobody knows how he turns people to killers, after investigating and interrogating them, their memories were wiped out, and seeing things nobody could see, and also hear voices that nobody knew where they’re coming from”, Zain exclaimed, “That’s odd! I would suggest that we

devise a plan to find out how he turns those patients to killing machines.”, Vladimirovich replied, “I will set you an appointment with the doctor”. “Fine then, tell him that you have a janitor for him who cleans up the filth, or a male servant.”, Vladimirovich replied, “Done”. Agent Zain booked himself a flight to Thailand. It was an amazing city, anyhow he didn’t find the link of how serial killers are programmed to cause the maximum number of deaths from such a lovely geographic spot. What was the sort of treatment used for such proclaimed mental illnesses? When he arrived, he checked in a hotel near Banana beach. It was called Le Meridien Phuket Beach Resort. He later took a shower after swimming and diving, had lunch, and went to the clinic via a driver of Alec Rastislav. It was breathtaking journey because the streets, buildings and trees sights were very beautiful. Later the underwater tunnel that is made of glass to see the bottom of the sea while going to a clinic was ravishing. When he arrived, he met his assistant who was a fellow doctor, his name was Sergei. He took him to his room, on his way, he saw cellars from which someone was screaming “Allah Akbar”, “Death to the enemies of Islam. Death to the infidels and disbelievers. Islam should rule the universe”. The second cellar someone was saying, “Lord Jesus, God, I will defend your land with my blood. Muslims have stolen our homes, jobs and raped our women, hence I will kill all of them”. Zain was wondering what the hell was that, he couldn’t find that out. He asserted that Alec Rastislav was programming people with mental illnesses to cause death. It was MK-Ultra. During the cold war between the USSR and the USA. Both KGB and the CIA used MK-Ultra to win the war against each other by creating killers of the worst kind. They were deprived of their senses, logic and wisdom, they saw nothing except the people they are supposed to take away his life. This program was used against politicians and people. Firstly, they do them electroconvulsive therapy without anesthesia. Later they drug them with LSD, a psychedelic which cause them hallucinations. Hence, he goes behind his target to take away his life. As Asset Zain was disguising as a worker to Rastislav’s office, a pistol pumped against his skull and turned him unconscious. He woke up to find himself tied to a metal bed so that Mr. Rastislav enjoys his sadistic frivolous self. “Good evening Agent Zain, you have been recognized”, he said. The metal bed was electrified, Zain could feel all his body while he was tied. As Rastislav was about to talk to Zain, he turned off the electric shocks. He started explaining his motives behind such evil, unhuman ruthless plot. “I have worked for the KGB rising to the rank of Major. I built my own kingdom, out of blackmail, robbery, fool and deception. I have created my mental health clinic for the following reason”, “The environment is under threat, especially animals due to hunting. I want to preserve those animals from extinction. And I will do whatever it takes to save this planet. I have programmed people in three categories. The first one is composed of fanatic Muslims thinking Allah is telling them to go slaughter the Jews and crusaders. The other is a group of fanatic Christians who have an urge to defend their lands against immigrants’ invasion. The last one is the one that will cause a pandemic under the name Project Koroleva. They are about to use an atomizer to release a deadly virus in a reservoir I’m going to build, after I turn the water pipes to it. I can guarantee that the virus Koroleva will kill as many as possible”. Zain laughed, “The three groups of sick people will make you eradicate the human race then”, “Yes exactly”, he replied. Later, the electricity was connected again to his body. Zain spent all the night screaming, and dropped in his cell. He woke shaking and bleeding because they wounded him. As he sat gazing at the ceiling, there is no one to rescue him, he started praying that Jesus save him from those devils. He was crying because he will be

executed, and that he failed to take down the bastard. All of a sudden, fire of rifles banged inside the clinic between Rastislav’s guards and Spetsnaz forces. They stormed into his room, they were all in black uniforms and masked. Spetsnaz and Alexander Vladimirovich captured the two fanatic groups and were loaded in trucks. The biological team was on his own. He took assault AKS-74u and started chasing them. They were armed as well and were captured. They were caught by army’s road blocks and spike strip that deflated the tiers. The gangsters have chosen death over giving up. Zain, was shooting them with his rifle, and snipers took care of the rest and their atomizers captured. Later Alexander Vladimirovich told Asset Zain that he is grateful for his participation in capturing a former KGB and an FSB rouge agent. I replied “He was an enemy to my country”, “The proverb says my enemy’s enemy is my friend”. After finishing the three missions, Agent Zain called the Information Branch, Zain asked them whether they found any link to Phantom, especially that they scanned all their devices, phones and emails. They said that they are still looking for a name. Seconds later, C called Zain and told him that the foreign secretary wants to see you personally. Later Zain took a car and drove to the foreign secretary’s house, and got out of the car. He saluted him boisterously and started talking about his missions. Zain expressed his anger and dissatisfaction about the fact that there was someone from inside the country with a very high rank exposing him and blowing his cover. Suddenly, Zain’s phone rang, it was a message confirming that the foreign secretary was the one funding Phantom and its chief. The guards cocked and pointed their guns at his head, right between his eyes and told him not to move, took him to the upper floor and sat him on a chair. The minister started talking, “I was so amused by the way you handed the three operations Zain, but I’m sick of remaining in this country and disgusted to the full. I want to live somewhere hot close to the beach, I also want to date models and porn stars. I want to fulfill my desire by sexual tourism. I want to sleep with white, brunette, redhead women and teenagers”. As Asset Zain was listening to him and seeing how primitive that person was, he noticed an open window that shows the wide sea right beneath the sun. Zain saw a red dot on the minister’s chest. He smiled to the minister and said, “I think this is the last smile you will have”. Bang! Three bullets killed the minister. It was a SAS boat with an installed sniper on it. After that, they stormed into the villa and killed all the guards. When that was over, TV news reports revealed that the foreign minister died of a heart attack. Otherwise, his country will be a laughing stock in the intelligence community.

Last Journey

Agent Zain was standing in front of C in his office. He said, “You are a brilliant field operative, I wanted to inform you that you have become an officer. Congratulations! You can take a year holiday.”, “Thank you Sir. That means a lot to me”. As Zain got out of the building, he booked himself a flight to Alaska, simply because everything was snow white. There was nothing but ice and the -30 degrees cold lakes and sea. As Zain got closer to one of them, he took of his clothes so that the cold which cracks the bones will make him forget many things. First, the people who bullied him at school. Second, the fact that he had a stubborn mental illness from university professors who were bigots. Third, the reality that he had no woman or a girl to love him, and that he spent lots of money on filthy bitches who have no resemblance of a bloody female. He had chosen to serve his country and give up many things for this cause. Finally, he plunged into the icy water and gave his memories the last goodbye. The underwater world ravished him. For him, that was Paradise.

The End

0 notes

concussed-to-pieces · 7 years

Text

Character

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Nia Jax/Gender Neutral [Northern-Dwelling] Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Thirsty Crew, I can only hope I've done this woman justice! I have many emotions about her and how she's portrayed in the company as a whole (of course I do, big sap that I am). Tagging @toxiicpop, @oraclegazes and the king captain of this thirsty wasteland, @hardcorewwetrash! Enjoy!

This was a predicament she’d seen a thousand times before. Books, TV shows, movies. She figured maybe someday they would learn to plan for when the weather was bad where they were performing.

Nia sighed, her suitcase rolling along behind her over the tamped-down snow. Cutting a path through the drifts ahead was her current driving partner, who had maneuvered the dangerous roads like a trained professional. All they had on was a sweatshirt and some jeans out in the harsh elements, they should be freezing! But they showed no signs of having issues as their heavy boots stomped through the snow with ease, crushing it out into a path that Nia could safely follow.

“Not much further.” They said finally, gesturing up at the hotel in front of them. They looked over their shoulder to give her a quick grin. “How you doing back there, Snowbird?”

“I’ll be better after a hot shower.” Nia grumbled. Her shoulder had a bone-deep ache in it from landing oddly during the night's match and she knew if she didn't relax it out it would be much, much worse come the morning. The idea of her wearing tape like Cesaro sprang into her head and she snorted at herself.

“Truer words haven’t been spoken.” They agreed, yanking open the door to the hotel foyer and offering her a deep bow. “Ma'am.”

“You nerd.” She punched their shoulder gently on the way by, unable to help her smile. She hated to admit the effect they had on her, the way she always found herself a little quicker to laugh when they were around. It was frustrating because she knew what she was supposed to be like and yet there they were, always making her break character with some goofy joke. They had taken to calling her ‘Snowbird’ after learning she was a warm climate dweller (for the most part, of course), teasing her about all her 'retiree buddies'.

“They flee my northern climes from September on, to flaunt their incredible paleness on your sunny beaches.” They had grinned. “You’re the real deal though, a legitimate snowbird. Not some phony.”

Nia’s smile quickly faded when she was informed at the counter that her reservation didn’t exist. “It must have gotten lost in the shuffle, we’ve had a lot of last-minute cancellations and bookings today due to the weather.” The young man behind the counter said after trying her confirmation number three times. “We currently don’t have another r-”

“I can’t go back out there, I’ll freeze!” The hot shower seemed to be slipping through her fingers but Nia tried to keep her voice down, knowing that the last thing she wanted right now was to be labeled as 'difficult' or 'hysterical'. Regardless of how difficult she felt like being at the moment. “There’s nothing there? Nothing at all?” She asked.

“No ma’am, I’m very sorry but there isn’t.”

“Can I…can I sleep in your lobby? Push a few of the chairs together or something?” Hell, she’d slept in airport terminals before, this place was probably a thousand times safer than that. But the young man was already shaking his head, mumbling something about fire safety and building codes.

Her friend, camped out beside the elevator and scrolling through their phone, seemed to notice her distress. “Everything okay, Snowbird?” They called.

Nia huffed out a quick breath. “They don't have any of my reservation info.” She replied. “And there's nothing else available. I'll have to go back out and find another hotel.” She put her wallet away and zipped up her jacket again, cringing as she thought about being cold once more.

A hand abruptly landed on her arm. “No way, you’re rooming with me.” Her friend said firmly. “You put in all that work tonight, you deserve a rest. If you think I’m gonna’ let you go back out there, you’re crazier than I figured. C’mon.”

“But-”

“What, you wanna’ drive in this shit? I’m not letting that happen.” They cut in, frowning. “Please.”

“We don’t have any more cots or trundles, either.” The young man behind the counter seemed to have dissolved into permanent apologies. “I’m very sorry about all this.”

“Hey, it’s okay. This crap happens. I’ll figure something out. Snowbird, you’re with me.” Their fingers wrapped around her own to squeeze for a second. “Let’s get you that shower, huh?”

…

The aches always seemed to steam out under the pounding of hot water. Nia did her best to hurry, knowing that her friend was probably just as cold and tired as she was. Upon re-entering the room, however, she was greeted with the sight of her travelling partner in the process of pulling on a sleeping shirt.

“Oh! Sorry, my bad.” Life on the road meant that privacy was more imagined than anything else, but Nia still tried to offer the courtesy to her fellow performers. She held up a hand to block her view before dashing across the room back to her suitcase.

Her friend's laugh was muffled by the shirt. “S'okay, shoulda' stuck my head into the bathroom and asked for an extra second. Nothing you haven't seen before.” They struggled for a second, one of their elbows caught in the shoulder of the shirt. “How's your back? I know you took that landing pretty hard.”

Nia shrugged, rotating her shoulder and feeling the tightness still lurking. “I'm sure it'll be okay. A few rounds of P.T.”

“Good.” They finally managed to get the shirt on fully, their head popping through the neck hole after a momentary pause. “Hey, when you move up to the main roster do you think they'll give you a title shot?” They asked curiously, moving to sit cross-legged on the twin bed. They patted their thigh after a minute and Nia took up her place on the floor, handing her friend the brush and leave-in conditioner from her suitcase.

“I don't know if I'm looking that far forward yet.” Nia tilted her head back into their lap. “I don't know if Creative is looking that far forward either, honestly. Pretty sure my look isn't exactly the 'Women's Champion' aesthetic.” She made air quotes around the words, trying not to let the somberness seep into her tone. The tap on her head with the brush alerted her to the fact that her effort was in vain.

“You and I both know that you'd be a totally badass champion.” Her friend said firmly. “I get that you'd be fresh onto the roster and maybe you don't want to step on anyone's toes, but c'mon. You're the best candidate, you're strong and smart. Plus, you're damn scary when you want to be.”

“And when Creative wants me to be.” Nia tacked on glumly. “I swear, I'm just a caricature sometimes. Pigeonholed in this role of being protective, or beating everyone up like I'm King Kong for the first part of the match then falling victim to some silly little shot to the back of my head. It's so exasperating.” She pulled her knees up to her chest. “I can do so much more than be some stupid muscle, you know?”

Strong fingers smoothed over her scalp, encouraging Nia's drowsy yawn. “I understand that. I know that you have to take at least a few of the cards that are drawn for you. And that's garbage because I also know you're a hell of an athlete.” Her friend put the brush down and started carefully plaiting her hair, separating it out to loosely braid it for bed. “I can't believe in this day and age that people still have to work so hard, uphill, against these BS stereotypes.”

“It's nuts.” Nia turned her head just a little to catch her friend's eye. “So...what do I have to do to get you on the Creative team? Specifically, writing my matches on the Creative team?”

Her friend's laugh was delighted, the noise sending tingles down Nia's spine. “I would be a terrible booker and you know it Jax! Fired within the month because I'd bring some revolutionary idea to the table like...you being crowned the Universal Champion after tearing Brock Lesnar's arm off of his body.”

“Shh, we’re not supposed to know about that belt yet. It’s a secret. Besides, they couldn't fire you! I think they're down to two people as is.” Nia snickered. “Everyone's jumping ship now that they know Smackdown will be its own thing. Wonder sometimes if I should too. Like, go do my own thing.”

“You do what you need to. Just know that where you go, I'll do my best to follow.” Her friend went silent for a moment as they tied off Nia's braid. “Gotta' take care of my Snowbird.” They continued quietly.

“Hey.” Nia caught their hand before they could pull away, tilting her head back further so she could smile at them. “Thanks.” Their resulting blush and stammer stuck in her brain while the two of them bedded down in the small bed.

Nia woke at some point during the night to them wrapped around her protectively, their arm over her ribs. A mouth pressed to her achy shoulder and they mumbled something, their voice heavy with sleep. “Hmm?” Nia murmured. They shook their head, snuggling her even closer. They were incredibly warm and Nia found exactly zero problems with being cuddled by her own personal space heater. She soon drifted back off, making those embarrassing little noises in her throat that she usually tried to stifle.

…

Another event, another airport. Nia had to smile this time though, back on familiar turf. She strode through the terminal with purpose, her traveling buddy trailing behind as they turned in place to look up at the high glass ceiling. Sunlight poured in, bathing the various indoor foliage features and making them appear twice as green and lush.

“C'mon, slowpoke! I'm not losing you in this place.” Nia scolded, chuckling at the bewildered expression on their face. “What, never seen a sunroof?”

“Listen, where I come from the sun is nothing but a distant myth. I respect and fear the brilliant hell-orb.” They joked. Nia's laughter rang out, maybe a little louder than she intended, but it was more than worth it to coax a smile out of her friend. “I'm glad my simple ways amuse you, Snowbird.”

“Never change, sweetheart.” Nia shook her head, rumpling their hair fondly when they fell into step beside her. “Now, I expect you to be able to handle yourself in the harsh elements here. No whining!”

“I would never!” They protested, grimacing abruptly when they stepped outside. “Oh. Oh ugh.”

“Ha!” Nia said triumphantly as they hurried to strip off their hoodie. “Welcome to humidity. Any Northerner's kryptonite.”

“You're the devil!” They squawked, stuffing the sweatshirt into their backpack. “The absolute devil. I'm...oh God, everything's going dark.”

They pretended to swoon into her arms and Nia couldn't keep from laughing, easily righting them with one hand. “On your feet. You know the rules, after that last fiasco we have a three hour allowance as far as checking in on our reservations goes.”

“That's only for inclement weather though!” They protested, squinting up at the blue sky overhead. “Place is cloudless, you can't possibly-”

“Trust me. Weather around here has a way of sneaking up on you.” Nia pulled out her spare pair of sunglasses and slid them onto her friend's face. “Try to keep up!”

…

“My reservation got canceled because of Wrestlemania.”

Nia looked up at her friend's words, startled. “What?”

“They 'accidentally' double-booked my room. I'm...I want to be mad but mostly I'm just so tired and hot I'd like to cry.” They said dully, seeming like they were inches from tears. “I wanted to sleep. I couldn't sleep on the plane because there was a baby crying and I forgot my headphones in my checked luggage and I'm-”

“Hey hey, shh. Easy.” Nia soothed, getting up out of her seat and quickly ushering her friend off into the elevator. “You're staying with me, then. That's only fair. We'll get you to the room, get you a nice shower.” She paused, essentially propping them up against one of the walls of the elevator and pressing their foreheads together. “You're going to be fine, you fragile Northerner you.”

“M' not fragile!” They growled. “I'm hungry and sweaty and bone-tired and I can't tell which one of those is the thing to fix first.” They scrubbed at their eyes angrily.

“Don't worry about it.” Nia (who felt a little guilty at the decent amount of sleep she'd gotten during the flight) took their hand when the elevator doors pinged open. “You get in the shower, then we’ll order food. You'll sleep better with a full belly.”

“Th-Thank you.” Her friend said in a tiny voice, still rubbing their eyes with their free hand. “God, can you even believe that Wrestlemania is in two days? You're gonna' be in Wrestlemania.”

“Well, so are you.” Nia pointed out as she opened the door to her room.

Her friend waved their hand impatiently. “Fuck that, you're going to be in Wrestlemania.”

“I'm going to lose at Wrestlemania.”

“I...seriously?” Their expression twisted with confusion when Nia nodded. “But that makes no sense, they've been building you as-”

“As a protective, glass-cannon enforcer. With lipstick.” Nia filled in wryly. “I'm good for throwing the other women around and looking intimidating. Me actually winning anything isn't going to happen.”

“I'm gonna' kick all of their asses.” They threatened, making Nia tousle their hair. “I’m serious. This is bullshit!”

“No, this is how it always is.” Nia corrected.

“Okay, look. I’m gonna’ shower because I probably smell like barn. And we’re gonna’ talk about this over food. I…pick something to eat while I get cleaned up. Please.” Their sentences were stilted and tight, like they were grappling with their emotions.

“Hey, you don’t need to be all wound up about this.” Nia shrugged, tried to act like her own disappointment didn’t sit heavy in her chest. “I’ll just wait until you’re done and you can-”

“Oh no you don’t. If you don’t choose something, I’ll play Yelp roulette again. You remember what happened last time.” They raised an imposing eyebrow. “For the sake of us living until Wrestlemania, I suggest you pick.”

“Okay okay, you drive a hard bargain.” Nia grumbled, already reaching for her phone.

Those strong fingers wove into her hair, a quick massaging motion on her scalp making her eyes flutter shut. “Thanks Snowbird. For everything.”

“Don’t mention it.” Nia rolled her shoulders once her friend had migrated to the shower. Her body felt overly warm despite the roaring A/C. This is stupid, you’re being stupid! She berated herself, staring blindly at the menu for several minutes before using the tried-and-true method of covering her eyes and picking a few items at random. Hopefully this is okay.

When her friend finally emerged from the bathroom, looking slightly more sane and awake, they wasted no time in plopping down beside Nia on the bed. “Listen up, Jax, because I’m only gonna’ say this once.” They rolled onto their back so they could look up at her. “That’s a lie, but whatever. Listen. You’re…you deserve to win. Ain’t nobody that works harder than you, even with this stupid cubbyhole-”

“-Pigeonhole.”

“Whatever, stupid dumbass restrictions put onto you by the company.” They growled, poking her knee. “Look, you’re cream of the crop material! Cream of the crop. How can they not see that?”

“Maybe they’ve been writing me this way because they think that’s what a ‘strong’ woman is. Big, angry, pretty, and easily broken by other women if they work together.” Nia hated how much she was defaulting to a shrug these days. “I should be grateful I’m even here, right?”

“Hell no.” Their irritation at the current conversation did make her feel just a little better. “You could be a brutal heel! Why won’t they take advantage of that?! You have evil potential!”

“Easy, I’m sitting right here y’know.” Nia pressed a hand to her chest and they laughed.

The room service arrived and Nia ate mostly in silence, just listening to her friend continue to rant between bites of their salad. Had she known they felt so strongly about this, she might not have even brought it up. But no, the thought of how they might have reacted if she lost and it blindsided them was crushing.

“Did you really think I was going to win?” Nia finally asked quietly.

“I sure as hell hoped you would!” They folded their arms, exhaling loudly. “But sure, we’ll give the Horsewomen their usual exhibition. That’s cool. Fuck the revolution unless it’s the same three or four women over and fucking over, right? Fuck me, what a load of hot garbage.” They griped, pushing their plate away to get up and pace. “I've got nothing against Charlotte or Bayley, shit, even Sasha, but this is exasperating. How the hell do you stay so level-headed over things like this?!”

“Probably because I’m usually written like an easily-flustered child.” Nia didn’t laugh, not exactly. The sound choked off in her throat. “I’m written as a trope. I’m supposed to stomp my feet when things don’t go my way, I’m supposed to scream and yell and be angry in the ring. I guess it’s…it’s easier to save my emotions for when I need to get a reaction.”

“Snowbird…” They sat down beside her again, hand reaching for her own. Nia had promised herself she wasn’t going to waste time crying over any more of Creative’s choices. She’d done that more than enough during her time with this company. “Fuck, Nia, don’t…look, c’mon, there’s no need for that.” They protested, knocking their foreheads together. “Snowbird don’t do this to me. You know I’m ugly when I cry.”

“It’s difficult.” Nia managed to say. “I’m tired of being pushed aside because I don’t have ‘the look’. I mean, I know it will happen just because. I guess I’m more tired of being upset about it.” She admitted. “I’m exhausted over being upset. I know since I’m the ‘big girl’ I’m supposed to be confident in my skin and ‘fierce’ or whatever the hell everyone is saying we have to be like this week. But it’s hard to be confident and happy with who you are when you’re constantly being told you’re going to be passed over for things because of who you are.” Nia tried to put her face in her hands but her friend stopped her before she could, making her look up at them.

They were clearly upset, their whole face drawn into a tight pinch of outrage. “You-” They sputtered unintelligibly for a good five seconds. “Look. Listen to me, okay? Just me. With my vast years of life experience across time and space or whatever.” They waved a hand dismissively.” I don’t say all my mushy stuff or go out of my way to try and make you laugh because I think you’ve got it easy, alright? I like making you break character. I like being the one that reminds you you’re not that person. I like letting you shine through, even if it’s just for a little bit. Hell Snowbird, I like you. The real you. Fuck how they write you. Some tiny-minded stereotype could never hope to contain the wonder that is you.”

“’Wonder’, huh?” Nia snorted. “Some wonder. I’m nothing but a crybaby.”

“You’re kind.” A kiss brushed her forehead. “You’re beautiful, you’re a model for fuck’s sake.”

“I was a model.”

“I’m sure you can still get yourself into something fashionably uncomfortable and ignite a catwalk any day of the week. Don’t interrupt me, woman.” They scolded, kissing her forehead again. “You’ve got this great sense of humor. Making you laugh is one of the best parts of my day, Snowbird. I feel like I did my job right if I can get you to laugh.”

“You…if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were…” Nia swallowed hard at their serious expression. “Um, never mind, I’m probably-”

“What? What did you think?” They pressed, sounding concerned.

“I’d say you were interested in me.” Nia mumbled all in a rush, thoroughly embarrassed. Great, perfect, wonderful. You’ve successfully made an ass of yourself.

“That’s correct, yeah.” They shrugged, stuffing their hands into the pockets of their pajama pants. “I mean, you don’t have to take it that way if me hitting on you makes you uncomfortable. Because I totally get that, I’ll stop if I’m making you uncomfortable. I know that I’m not really…’on your level’. I’ll never be as put together or as talented as you are. But I hoped if I told a few jokes, saw you safely through a few snowstorms, then maybe I’d have a shot, y’know?” Their words all spilled out in a nervous jumble, hanging in the air between them. “I like traveling with you. I like being with you. I like you.”

“I…” Nia was blown away by their confession, stunned silent. “Really?” She finally asked, her voice precariously close to breaking. Her friend nodded sheepishly, staring at the floor. “Wow.” Nia grabbed their arm and dragged them into a hug, holding them tight. “I woke up during the night when there was that mix up with my reservation and you were all wound around me, kissing my shoulder blade.”

“You’d hurt yourself earlier. Bad landing.”

Nia smiled. “Were you trying to kiss it better?”

“…Yeah.” They twiddled their fingers, looking up at her through their lashes. “Is that okay?”

Nia tapped her lower lip, the area still conveniently tender from a botched hit earlier in the week. “Y’know, I think this spot here could use a little TLC if you’re up for it.”

They nodded eagerly and Nia couldn’t keep back one of those noises as they quickly cupped her face and pulled her in for a kiss. Their mouth meshed with hers in a frantic motion, swallowing her soft whimpers greedily. Nia suddenly felt small and strangely vulnerable. Here was someone who could see her, the real her, and somehow they wanted her more that way. It was baffling.

“Why-” She began to ask when they pulled back.

“I’ve kinda’ had a thing for you for a while now.” The said breathlessly. “I didn’t know what your uh…preference was, didn’t want to be pushy.”

“You nerd.” She punched their shoulder gently and they giggled, like they were relieved. Their arms draped over her shoulders and they started trailing kisses down the side of her neck. Nia tentatively put her hands on their hips, her grip tightening when their mouth grazed her collarbone.

“This okay?” They asked softly, obviously interpreting her stiffening up as hesitance.

“Oh God yes, please.” Nia wasn't really familiar with this, but she definitely wanted to see what it could be like. Normally people wanted her to dominate them, to put in all the work. Due to her outward appearance there was always that assumption; she was larger than the average woman and could be very imposing if need be. So this was...different. This was new.

They smiled and drew her in for another kiss, those strong fingers tangling in her hair and tugging gently. “You haven't had anyone take care of you?” They murmured against her mouth. “It's always the same crap, isn't it?”

“No matter where I go.” Nia managed to say.

“Mm, that all changes now.” Their hands traveled lower, undoing the first button on her blouse. Slowly they worked their way down the line until her blouse was open, exposing more skin and (Nia had to admit) one of her most worn-out sports bras.

“Sorry, if I'd known that you would be taking off my shirt I would have dressed accordingly.” She tried to joke, but the heated look she got in return made her stomach clench.

“So you would have worn nothing underneath this?” Their voice was a seductive purr. “I like the nice shirts you wear when you have to be out and about, but I could definitely appreciate you with no bra in a nice shirt. Food for thought.” They grazed their hand over the sports bra, one finger tugging at the middle of the hardworking elastic to expose her cleavage. “I like this too, though. Might be fun to tease you through one of these, make you all wet for me without taking your clothes off.” Nia made another sound in her throat and they looked up, smiling at her. “Sound good, Snowbird?” Like they couldn't feel how excited the idea made her, like they couldn't hear her.

They urged her to lie back and she obeyed, thrilled and scared all at once at the idea of being at someone's mercy. Her friend smoothed her hair back from her face once she laid down, searching her eyes for much, much longer than Nia was used to.

“Is this okay?” They asked again, a little louder this time.

“Please.” Nia wasn't one hundred percent sure on what she was begging for, exactly. It just felt incredible to be able to ask for something for once. That helpless sound bubbled in her throat.

“Alright.” They smiled and pulled the sports bra up and off, the raw appreciation in their gaze making Nia shiver from head to toe. “Oh God, look at you.” They sighed, the flat of their tongue gracing one of her nipples with a hot, wet caress. “Why did no one do this for you? My poor Snowbird.” Nia whimpered and cupped their head, running her fingers through their hair over and over as they lapped and gently nipped at her peak. “I love your sounds.” They mumbled against her breast.

“They're weird.” Nia moaned.

“No, they're great.” They placed kisses that burned like fire down her torso and Nia's breath quickened, her fingers still grasping feebly at their hair. Their hands quickly flipped her skirt up and another kiss lingered on the waistband of her panties, dampening the trembling skin there. “Can I put my mouth on you?”

“As long as you keep asking me, you can do whatever the hell you want.” Nia replied shakily.

“I'd always imagined our first time would be with the candles and stuff.” They looked up at her, a devilish smirk twitching their lips. “Not complaining one bit. I probably would have tripped over the bed and knocked myself out on the end table, what with the dim conditions.”

Nia giggled, the noise weirdly high as she felt those damn fingers curl around the sides of her soaked panties and tug them down her thighs. “A memorable first time, that's for sure. I can make do with no candles.”

Her friend kissed her stomach, shoving her skirt up higher out of the way. “I want you to be able to watch me without stressing your shoulder.” Their smug tone was laced with concern and Nia was touched by their worry. “I know you have a few things to do later this week.” They maintained eye contact as they stuck out their tongue teasingly, and Nia let out a soft, keening whine when they dragged the flat of their tongue over her clit for the first time. “Oh, that's a good one.” They murmured, making her flush before they dove in to lick and nibble at her in earnest.

Nia threw her head back, releasing their hair to grip the sheets underneath her body. It was so ridiculously strange to have someone eat her out, without her having to demand it or sit on someone's face in a stereotypical display of dominance. Her friend was merciless in their assault, coaxing Nia's thighs wider with just a few hums. Nia started playing with her own breasts as they pushed their other hand into their pants, her hips rolling in sync with the sloppy kisses laid on her entrance. Two fingers breached her easily, sliding in and hooking up to make Nia cry out.

“That's right, beautiful.” They crooned against her, the words barely registering while Nia chased her completion feverishly. They stroked her clit with the flat of their tongue and she ground up against that mouth, those fingers, her whole body tightening as she drew close.

Nia couldn't have stifled the noises she was making even if she had wanted to. Moans and whimpers poured from her lips but that was alright, it was alright, because her friend was making noises just like she was, their soft, hungry sounds and humming reducing her to quivering under their mouth. “I-” Their mouth fastened down over her clit, Nia's back arched off the bed and she hung in an absolute purgatory for the longest second of her life before her climax struck.

Her hips rolled and shuddered and she threw her head back, only vaguely aware that she was practically sobbing with relief. Her friend gently soothed her spine back down onto the bed, continuing to lick Nia's clit softly until it was too much to bear and Nia had to cup their face. Their chin was soaked with her and they looked a bit dazed but incredibly satisfied with themselves. Nia kissed them fiercely while they straddled her thigh and bucked their hips, grinding their body down in harsh, quick motions. “Want me to come for you?” They asked through gritted teeth. “I bet you do, bet you fucking do, beg me, fuckin' beg me for it Jax.”

Now that was dangerous, their rough, desperate tone commanding her to obey. Nia's mouth felt dry and she swallowed quickly. “Please come for me.” She said softly, her hands grasping their hips and urging them even faster. “Get yourself off on me, come for me, come for me sweetheart.”

Their hands closed over her own on their hips and they tilted their head up, going still and moaning, “Oh, Jesus, Nia, fuck yes,” through their clenched teeth. They went limp and slumped forward, still weakly rocking their hips on her thigh.

Nia carefully eased them down, cradling their body against her own and stroking their hair as they shuddered intermittently. “Thank you.” She sighed into their hair. “Thank you so much.”

They moaned and tucked their face into the hollow of her throat. “So fucking comfy. Thank you, Snowbird, God.” They sounded completely worn out but sincere, one hand coming up to card through her long hair. “Thank you.”

“I'll let you sleep, okay?” Nia whispered after a minute of comfortable silence. They nodded, holding her tighter. “Sweet dreams.”

“Snowbird, I jus'...” They began, their voice petering out as they drifted off mid-sentence.

“I like traveling with you. I like being with you. I like you.”

Nia smiled to herself as she recalled their words, kissing their forehead and letting her own eyes close.

#nia jax #nia jax/reader #thirst party saturday #nia jax smut #wwe #gender neutral reader #I have so many emotions about nia losing like she did at mania #so many that I wrote about it #Only One Room trope #Wrestlemania Thirty-Three precursor #god I love her #cold-loving reader #Female Wrestler #I like YOU trope

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gashinamoon · 7 years

Text

Stuck With Each Other- an Olicity AU

Chapter 2

Rating: T

Words: 3065

Notes: Happy first day of June! Who else is a June bithday baby like me?

In true me fashion, you'll probably realise that although I said there was only going to be two chapters to this story, once again, it took on a mind of its own and now there's going to be 3. Maybe 4. We'll see. I'm just having so much fun with this!! And after reading, can you guess which classic trope is going to be in the next chapter??? ;)

Anyway! I hope you enjoy this! I'm still con-lagged (like jet lagged except after a convention, you know?) from HVFF over the weekend so any typos and grammar mistakes can be blamed on that. And the fact that I still don't have a beta. It's just me on my one woman team! Feel free to let me know your thoughts after you're done and if anyone wants to know any gossip from HVFF, feel free to follow me me on Twitter because its all I can talk about lately. Also! Precious little Emily Bett designed me a tattoo that I got done yesterday so you can see that on my Twitter too! I'm done rambling now... enjoy!

Read on AO3

“Whoa, wait. How many of those are you ordering?"

"Six."

"Why six?"

"Well, three for me and three for you. This place closes in five minutes and I'm gonna need more than one coffee to make it through tonight without falling asleep on you. And I figured you needed that much too."

He stared at her, an almost bemused expression on his face.

"But of course you don't! You're probably not addicted to caffeine like I am and you look like you're already used to not getting any more than 2 hours sleep at night. Not that I'm saying you look tired. I mean, you do, but like, not in a bad way. Not in a bad way at all! Your face is totally not bad. Not bad at all…” She stared in horror at him as her brain caught up with what her mouth was saying. “Please feel free to stop me at any point! Any point right about 30 words ago would be perfect! Or just, you know, any point around the start of this entire conversation?”

Oliver laughed. He was laughing at her, again. Where was that metaphorical hole in the earth when she needed it?

"Maybe I'll just get two coffees," she smiled, embarrassed but feeling sort of warm inside. He had a nice laugh, even if hearing it was at her expense. "I don't think my brain needs anymore stimulating at the moment."

Oliver chuckled softly and leaned over the counter.

"We'll just take three coffees, please. Not six. I can pay by card, right?"

"Hey, wait! I'm paying! These are on me,"

"Felicity, it's fine. I won't miss 20 bucks,"

"Okay, but these are overpriced and you're only drinking one anyway! At least let me pay for my extra one,"

“Let me do something nice for you and buy these. Please?”

“Why do you want to do something nice for me?”

“Because this day was one of the most depressingly boring days in my entire life until you somehow ended up in it and I think that means I should buy you your coffee,” he smiled. “Please?”

God, he was cute. Like a little puppy. He definitely had eyes like a puppy. And usually guys had ulterior motives when they wanted to do something nice for her but Oliver had seemed genuine since the moment he started eavesdropping on her conversation. Which in itself was kind of ironic when she thought about it. Not to mention that if she said no, he’d probably annoy her about it until their flight finally did take off. He looked like the kind of person who could be extremely annoying beneath all the cute and she really didn't think she had the energy to put up with it.

“Fine. As long as you let me do something nice for you at some point tonight, okay?” She smiled, admitting defeat a lot quicker than she usually would. Felicity could be stubborn as hell when she wanted to be. “And thanks,” she added, gratefully.

Oliver returned her smile, except his smile looked more like the one of someone who’d just been offered a free round the world trip as he handed over his card to the cashier to ring up the coffees. Maybe she wasn't the only one who was so heavily influenced by sleep deprivation and lack of caffeine after all.

Speaking of caffeine… all of a sudden a piping hot cup of it was being handed to her and right then in that moment, she didn't care about her delayed flight or having embarrassed herself in front of two strangers in the last 15 minutes or the warnings on the news that the storm might cut out all the power in the city any second. She finally had her crappy cup of overpriced airport coffee and she was not letting anyone or anything ruin this moment for her.

“Do you want to sit down or- no, okay, you're just going to drink it right here,” Oliver said, but she barely heard him.

For a crappy and overpriced cup of airport coffee, she didn't think she’d ever tasted anything better. She didn't even care that it was kind of burning her mouth and throat as she gulped it down. She’d savour the second cup. This first cup was a matter of survival. She drank the first cup in 30 seconds flat, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand after swallowing the last gulp. Suddenly becoming aware of her surroundings and the fact that she’d acted like a complete freak in front of Oliver, she smiled sheepishly at him.

“That was amazing,” Oliver laughed. “I don't think I've ever seen anyone drink a burning hot cup of coffee quite so quickly before. I'm actually kind of worried. Are you sure you're okay?” He teased, leaning over and pressing his palm against her forehead in a gesture she assumed was him checking her temperature.

There go those nice hands again, Felicity thought to herself, fully enjoying the feel of them against her skin.

“I'm good. I'm fine. Kind of really warm and my throat is burning but still good. I really needed that,” she replied, trying to ignore the way her mouth was feeling and how suddenly lightheaded she’d become from the heat of her coffee warming her up so quickly when she hadn't even been cold to begin with.

Oliver gave her a strange look though, so she guessed she wasn't doing a great job of trying to look like she wasn't about to pass out.

“Are you okay?”

“Yup. Just a little dizzy. Is it me or is it really hot in here?” She asked, fanning herself with her hand, desperately trying to cool herself down.

“Maybe this second cup of coffee really isn't a good idea…”

“You're probably right,” she laughed nervously, feeling a little steadier than she had done a few seconds ago but not completely out of the woods yet.

“Lets go and sit down over there,” Oliver gestured to a small seating area a few metres away by a particularly sad looking water feature. “It's quieter than over by the flight gate and you look like you really need to sit down,”

Felicity nodded and didn't even question when he linked his arm through hers and guided her over towards the chair. She felt better, definitely capable of walking by herself, but she really wasn't about to refuse his arm if he wanted to help her. She even found herself leaning into him a little, and he took her weight with ease. Holding onto his forearm to steady herself now that she had committed to pretending she was about to faint, she noticed straight away how solid they were. So solid. She could picture perfectly how tanned and veiny they were underneath the long sleeves of his shirt. That thought almost made her feel dizzy again for real.

Once they were sitting down again, he looked over her worriedly.

“Are you sure you're okay? You really didn't look so good earlier,”

“I'm fine, I promise. I think I just drank that coffee too quickly,” she laughed, knowing that was the understatement of the week.

“I was worried you were going to pass out on me,”

“I'm sure you would've caught me,” Felicity replied, thinking again about his solid forearms, not even realising until the words were out of her mouth how excerpt-from-a-teenage-romance-novel she sounded.

She blushed. “Not that I meant anything by that. You just look… strong. Really strong,”

Oh god, why did everything she said somehow end up making everything worse?

Thankfully, by some grace of the google gods, she was saved by an announcement being made over the airport tannoy system.

“This is an announcement for passengers of flight 812 to Star City; the flight has been cancelled indefinitely due to severe weather conditions and we recommend that all passengers make overnight plans in a nearby hotel. Sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused. We will continue to update you all via text alerts or email on when the next available flight will be. Thank you for your patience.”

Around them, Felicity could hear a string of curses and groans and sighs, the former of which came from her own mouth.

“Ugh, fuck, I can't believe I actually have to stay here another night!”

Oliver laughed. “I never took you for someone who curses,”

Rolling her eyes Felicity sighed. “I don't usually. But this is just fucking irritating! Why do the google gods hate me so much that they actually want me to have to spend another night with my mother?”

“Why don't you get a hotel?”

“No offence to your intelligence, Oliver, but do you know how expensive airport hotels are? Do I really look like someone who can afford to just drop 700 bucks on a hotel room for one night?” She asked, slightly snappily as she took her phone out from her purse.

“I don't mind paying for a room for you,”

“Don't be ridiculous. You don't even know me! Why would you even offer?”

“Because, like I already said earlier, I have a boring job that pays well and I like you Felicity. You’ve made this delayed flight one of the most interesting evenings of my life. In my mind it's completely reasonable of me to at least offer to pay for your room for that,”

For not the first time that night, Felicity was completely taken aback by what Oliver was saying. Everything in her was telling her to argue with him, to tell him how stupid it was for him to even offer such a thing, that she’d be fine just staying one more night with her mom, wishing him a good life and then never speaking to him again. Because that was the reality, right? If she didn't accept his offer she’d go back to her mom’s place and he’d check into a hotel and they'd probably end up on different flights home and never see each other again. The thought made her swallow hard. She hated to admit how much she grown to enjoy Oliver’s company over the last few hours. She knew letting him pay for her hotel room would be selfish, but he had offered; no one was forcing him to do that.

“You really don't owe me anything, Oliver. I haven't done anything except be my normal, embarrassing self,” Felicity laughed softly, catching his eye.

“Not embarrassing. Endearing. I already told you,”

She rolled her eyes in dismissal at his comment but felt her cheeks warm anyway. She couldn't decide whether she absolutely hated or actually kind of liked the effect he had on her. It had been a long time since she’d experienced these kinds of emotions and deep down, she really was enjoying them.

“Okay fine, if I agree and let you pay for my room, will you promise to stop saying things like that, please?”

Oliver chuckled. “Deal. Any preference? I've heard the Hilton is nice.”

She opened her mouth to argue that the Hilton was far too expensive, but the look on his face told her it wasn't worth it. Sighing, she relented.

“I literally do not care. As long as you don't tell me how much you're paying and as long as I can finally sleep, I honestly don't care.”

Laughing, Oliver took out his phone and began to dial.

Barely an hour passed before they were standing in the lobby of one of the nicest hotels Felicity had ever been in. She felt completely out of place in her crumpled dress and no makeup, dragging her non-designer suitcase behind her now that they'd been given back their luggage, but she was slowly reaching that point of sleep deprivation where she could feel the earth actually vibrating under her feet and she really just needed to sleep. Thankfully the only people around at 3 in the morning to judge her were the receptionists on the desk.

“Hi, I called earlier and made a last minute reservation? It's Oliver Queen,” Oliver said to the girl behind the desk, flashing her a gorgeous smile that she could tell the girl appreciated, even though she remained professional and didn't react.

Felicity fought the urge to snort upon hearing his last name. Queen was such an elite sounding surname. No wonder he had plenty of money. She imagined with a surname like that, that money just fell into your bank account. But it suited him. It suited him a lot. She hated to admit that hearing his full name actually made him more attractive. She wondered if he had a middle name.

“One room, yes?” The receptionist asked.

“No, two. I asked for two rooms. Under the same name,”

“Oh, I'm sorry, sir. We only have one room available. Due to the weather we’ve had an influx of bookings and the only room left is a double room,”

“That's okay, we’ll take it,”

Felicity almost choked on her tongue at that. They were absolutely not going to take that room.

Somehow managing to hold onto her composure when all she wanted to do was yell, she cleared her throat as politely as possible to get his attention.

“Oliver? Can I speak to you a sec, please? Over there?” She asked, gesturing to their left away from the desk.

Oliver gave the receptionist a slightly apologetic look before following Felicity to where they were out of earshot. Or out of earshot enough that she could talk in a raised whisper without worrying too much about being heard.

“What are you doing?” She asked, not at all caring about being polite now.

“You need to sleep. I'm getting you somewhere to do that,”

“But they only have one room! Where are you going to sleep?!”

“I'll be fine. I'll let you have the bed and I'll just stay up and watch TV or something. Don't worry, honestly,”

“You are not going to pay for a room and then not even sleep in it, Oliver,”

She watched him smirk a little at that and slowly realised how slightly suggestive her choice of words sounded.

“Not that there would be anything wrong with that, I mean, what you choose to do in your own time is none of my business and if you want to pay for a hotel room just to have sex or something, that's completely your choice. Not that that's what we're going to do. Not at all. I mean, I'm sure that would be nice but we’re not going to do that. That's not what I meant at all- you know? I really don't appreciate you laughing at me right now, Oliver. I'm really fucking angry actually at how crazy you're acting,”

He stopped smirking then, clearly realising she was serious, probably taken aback once again by her cursing, and that now wasn't the time to make fun of her. He frowned.

“What is so crazy about me wanting to make sure you get some sleep?! Why can't you just let me do that for you? I really think you're overreacting,”

“I’m overreacting? Why are you so adamant on being so ridiculous all the time, Oliver? I'm not going to have you pay for a room with only one bed if you're not going to sleep in it and that's that. So how about you take the room and I'll just go back to the airport and wait there,”

“Now who’s being ridiculous? You can't just sit in an airport all night! What if you fall asleep and someone steals your stuff?” Oliver argued, his mouth forming a firm line.

God, he was exasperating. She was definitely right earlier about him being annoying underneath all the cute. She couldn't believe they were bickering like this in the middle of a fancy hotel lobby but more than that, she couldn't believe the way Oliver was acting. How was he so chill and calm about them sharing a room? Had he forgotten that until a couple of hours ago, neither of them had even known about the other’s existence? And that aside, she really didn't know if she could handle being cooped up in a hotel room with Oliver all night. How was she supposed to stop herself from babbling inappropriately for hours? She couldn't, she knew she couldn't.

“Why would someone even steal my- you know what? I'm not even going to argue with you. I'm calling a cab and going back to the airport,”

She turned away from him and started to head back towards the desk but she felt Oliver's hand on her arm then, taking hold of her wrist and effectively stopping her in her tracks. All of the fight had disappeared from his face then and for the first time that night, she realised how truly exhausted he looked.

“Please, Felicity. Don't be like this. You're tired and you need to rest. Just take the room. Please,”

Loooord he had to stop looking at her like that. He really did. She was going to have a heart attack if she saw him make that stupid little puppy face again tonight. And his hands were on her again. His fucking hands that were soft and warm and firm all at the same time and making her skin tingle wherever they touched.

Suddenly feeling dead on her feet, Felicity sighed in defeat.

“Fine. We’ll take the room. But the bed is yours. I'll sleep on the couch. There has to be a couch in the room somewhere. That's my final offer before I call a cab and go back to the airport,”

Oliver practically beamed at her then and she felt herself blush. “Deal,” he smiled, moving his hand from her wrist to her palm and giving her hand a shake.

She smiled back, trying to look begrudging but got lost in how nice it felt to hold his hand. Nice wasn't a strong enough word but she didn't have the energy or brain capacity to think of a better adjective right now. She fought off the urge to giggle - yes, to giggle - at how nice it felt to have his hand in hers. She didn't even have the presence of mind to tell herself to get a grip. And if Oliver noticed the giddiness she could feel in her eyes just then, he didn't say.

It was going to be a long night.

If you want to be tagged in my fics/chapter updates, feel free to let me know! :)

(Also, let me know if there’s anything you don’t want to be tagged in! i.e. fics that aren’t strictly Olicity/Arrow, I’m more than happy to remove tags!)

@geniewithwifi @scu11y22 @dandeelies @ghostfoxlovely @bellemmie @youngfolksoldsoul @keytoflowers2509 @relativelyobsessedfangirl @obliviouschickwithagun @oliverfel4 @hope-for-olicity @lemonlime799 @stygian-omada-fan @pleasantfanandstudent

#mywriting #olicity fic #olicity fic rec #olicity #oliver queen #felicity smoak #oliver x felicity #olicity fanfiction #arrow fic #arrow

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catty-words · 7 years

Text

so if you’re lonely (why’d you say you’re not lonely)

summary: Despite all the rumblings in the office, Nathaniel is not going soft. He’s not. Nathaniel and Rebecca go on a trip for work. Word Count: 3,200 Author’s Note: Thank you so much to @bethanyactually, who beta'd this while she was feeling less-than-great. I am very very excited to have TWO shows you can beta my fic for. I'm kinda consumed by this pairing right now (if you are too come talk to me!!) and couldn't ignore the urge to write fic about them. But this is my first attempt at CEG fic so let me know how I did? this one-shot was inspired by my own damn emotional tumblr post.

(ao3)

~~~

“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Son?” Nathaniel can picture his father’s stern and skeptical face even though he’s only on speakerphone.

“Of course,” he says, and then cringes inwardly at the high pitch of his voice. Clearing his throat, he tries again. “I’ve given presentations to the partners before. Everything will go as planned.”

“Yes, but this is not some fruity lecture on why we should run a greener firm. This is about our work, and if you’re not completely prepared, we may have to deem this West Covina experiment a failure.”

“That will not happen, Sir.”

“It had better not. See you on Tuesday.”

When the line goes dead, he takes a deep, steadying breath before climbing onto his treadmill desk. He gives the presentation in his head between sprints.

Despite all the rumblings in the office, Nathaniel is not going soft. He’s not.

Last week when he sent Karen home early to attend to her sick snake? That had nothing to do with compassion. He was just tired of hearing her creepy whining.

And all the extended lunches he lets Darryl and his boyfriend take? It’s not like he thinks they’re a cute couple or anything. It’s simply easier to get work done when Darryl isn’t hovering over his shoulder like a puppy begging for scraps.

And he definitely hasn’t been going easy on Rebecca, letting her constant tardiness and lack of productivity slide. But if he were, could anyone really blame him? She’s been through a lot, and he’s not heartless after all.

But he’s not soft, either. No siree.

Rebecca knocks on the door to his office, jarring him out of his thoughts, and he waves her in.

“You wanted to see me?” she asks, flopping down on his couch and examining her nail polish.

“I did,” Nathaniel says, turning the speed on the desk down to a casual stroll. “I know that during previous discussions on the matter, you’ve expressed your preference to stay behind while I present our progress to the senior partners back in New York.”

She seems to know what’s coming because suddenly all her focus is on him and she’s widening her eyes and pouting out her lower lip, which trembles just the right amount.

It’s not getting to him, though. Not even a little.

“But it turns out the big wigs are interested in meeting you,” he says, swallowing hard and tilting up his chin. “So I guess you’ll have to suck it up and wear a decent outfit for the first time in a month. We leave Monday morning.”

“What?” Rebecca jumps to her feet. “You can’t just spring this on me. Like, I mean, what if I had a pet? This would not be enough time to find someone to watch it. Do you know how many friends I have? Not many, and you can’t just leave anyone to look after a pet. It’s gotta be someone you trust and—”

“Good thing you don’t have a pet,” he says, cutting her off.

Her mouth tightens and she eyes him suspiciously.

He sighs, already exasperated with himself for asking, “What?”

“This isn’t a get into my pants thing, is it? Cause I’ve been watching a lot of the classic rom-coms in an attempt to torture myself, and, in addition to really igniting my fury over casual misogyny and Western beauty standards and the existence of men in general, it’s made me wary of heterosexual male and female best friends, paying some guy to be your date to any kind of formal event, time hops, time loops, and work trips. They’re all dangerous. All of ‘em.”

“Great, I’ll be sure to make note of that.”

“Well? You didn’t answer my question.”

Nathaniel turns off the treadmill and leans over the desk, clasping his hands together and leveling her with a serious look. “Here’s the deal, Pudgy the Librarian—”

“Don’t make me lecture you about the Western beauty standards because I’ve got enough material to last me hours.”

“—do I still want to have sex with you? Strangely, yes, that hasn’t gone away. And has it escaped my notice that you’re no longer in a monogamous relationship? Of course not, who could forget the disaster that was your breakup. But my main focus is going to be on wowing the senior partners, as should yours. Anything that happens between us at the hotel will be some long-overdue icing on a successful business trip…cake.”

Rebecca raises her eyebrows. “Sometimes I wonder if even Freud himself could chip through the overwhelmingly large iceberg of pathologies inside that brain of yours.”

“Funny, I could say the same to you.”

She flips him off on her way out the door.

“Monday morning,” he shouts after her. “I’ll see you at LAX at six-thirty sharp!”

~~~

Rebecca is just barely on time.

“Since it looks like you actually washed your hair, I’ll give you a pass,” he says in greeting when she shuffles up to the table he’s been waiting at in the airport café.

“Can you please not be mean to me until I’ve had some coffee? I didn’t have time this morning because my flaky boss only told me I’d be needed for a cross-country trip three days ago.”

Nathaniel shakes his head, unimpressed, and slides a coffee over to her. “It doesn’t take weeks of foresight to set your alarm ten minutes earlier so you can stop somewhere on your way to the airport.”

She ignores him and takes a sip of the drink he ordered for her. “Mmm, hazelnut. My favorite.”

He allows himself a tiny grin. “I know.”

Before he can read too much into the pleased look she’s giving him, he slings his carryon over his shoulder and stands. “Come on, Pudgy, time to go check our bags.”

“Okay, seriously dude, stop projecting your body image issues onto me,” she says as she follows behind him. “I’ve already confronted and dealt with my internalized fatphobia.”

“Oh, really? I suppose your license has an accurate weight on it, then?”

“What? No. No one lists their actual weight on their license. Not even you, Mr. My Weight Is Ninety-Eight Percent Muscle Mass.”

He stops in his tracks, smirking, and she nearly runs into him.

“Oh my god, please stop doing that,” Rebecca says, taking a step backward. “You look like a serial killer who just got away with their fiftieth murder or something.”

“I knew it,” Nathaniel says, letting that dig slide. “You definitely still want to have sex with me.”

She makes an exaggerated gagging noise, but a blush creeps into her cheeks. “Whatever. Like, please get a handle on your extreme narcissism, dude. Nothing’s going to happen between us.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. The important thing is that you still want it to.”

He raises his eyebrows at her, and she bites her lip, holding eye contact for a second longer than necessary before pushing ahead of him and stomping her way through the terminal.

~~~

“Did you get the final copy of the PowerPoint I emailed to you Saturday morning?” he asks, not looking up from his notes.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re super anal?” He glares at her until she adds, “God, yes. I’m totally prepared for this, alright?”

“You can never be totally prepared.”

Rebecca gives him a funny look. “You suddenly don’t trust me to do my job, or what?”

“You have been distracted lately.”

“Hey! There’s a totally understandable reason for that.”

“You’ve been processing your brutal breakup,” Nathaniel says, nodding.

At the same time, Rebecca says, “Trying to make Josh’s life implode is basically a full-time job.”

“Wait,” he says, setting his tablet screen-side down in his lap. “You’ve been doing what now?”

She twists in her seat, her face contorting with way too many emotions to identify. All he knows is that she’s feeling all of them intensely—so intensely that it’s hard to look at her straight-on. “Josh Chan needs to pay for what he did.”

Nathaniel gulps and tries for some levity. “You’re pretty much stuck at the anger stage of grief, huh?”

“I have a lot to be angry about,” she says, her voice unnervingly even.

“Sure.”

His noncommittal answer seems to piss her off more. With a scoff, she turns her back toward him and buries her face in a book, putting a definitive end to any and all conversation.

~~~

After a tense and silent ride to the hotel they’re staying at, Nathaniel and Rebecca barricade themselves in their respective rooms.

He orders room service for lunch and sends a quick text to his father to let him know they landed safely.

Around seven that evening, though, he starts to feel a bit like a caged animal. He orders something else from room service and then freshens up while he waits.

When it comes, he grabs his room key, tucks a just-in-case condom in his pocket, and walks down the hall.

He pauses outside Rebecca’s room and unbuttons one of the buttons on his shirt before knocking.

“I come with a peace offering,” he says when she answers, holding out the bottle of wine he ordered for them. She squints at him, expression unreadable, and then walks back into the room, leaving the door ajar. “Okay…”

It’s not exactly a rejection, so he inches inside.

“What was that?” He hears Paula’s voice and follows it toward the bed.

Rebecca’s leaning against the headboard, laptop balanced on her thighs. There are files and loose papers covering every inch of the comforter and an uncapped red marker rolling around among them.

Nathaniel sets the bottle down on the desk before leaning against the wall and watching her with curiosity.

“Oh, it was nothing—Plimpton with a bottle of wine.”

Paula makes a knowing sound in the back of her throat and says, “Such a classic booty-call move.”

“I know. He’s being totally obvious, isn’t he?” Rebecca shoots him a pointed look.

He shrugs in response. “There’s no shame in being straightforward. Subtlety is for losers who don’t know what they want.”

In a stunning display of maturity, she sticks her tongue out at him.

“Why am I attracted to you again?” he asks himself.

She’s already gone back to ignoring him.

“It might be good for you, you know?” Paula says. “Have some hot, no-strings sex. Might ease some of that tension you’ve been feeling.”

“I don’t know,” Rebecca says, frowning thoughtfully. “I don’t want anything to distract me from what’s really important right now. Also, he was a dick on the plane, so.”

“Hey!”

“Plus,” Paula says, “he is your boss. That could make things very uncomfortable around the office. He’s a fine piece of man meat, though. It’s a shame all that’s going to waste.”

“Hello, I’m standing right here,” Nathaniel protests, stepping up to the edge of the bed so he can lean into the camera’s frame and wave.

“So?” Paula asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“So maybe you should show me a modicum of respect. I could write you up for talking about me like that.”

“Oh please,” Paula scoffs. “You’re the one trying to sleep with one of your employees.”

Nathaniel feels his entire body flush. “That is…a fair point.”

Rebecca shoves him out of her personal space and gives Paula an approving nod. “Law school’s been good for you.”

“Well, I was a highly argumentative person before. It’s helped me hone my skills, is all.”

“Definitely. Very effectively shut down.”

“Thanks, Cookie. Oh, I’ll call you later! The car alarm is going off and I can only assume Brendan is trying to steal it again. We’re at a bit of a dead end, anyway.”

Rebecca sighs. “Alright. Good luck with the kid. I’ll text you if inspiration hits.”

“So it’s probably too optimistic to assume that all this,” Nathaniel gestures to the mass of paperwork, “is work related.” She tilts her head at him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“So, are you here to judge me some more?”

“No,” he says, nodding over to the bottle of wine. “I’m here to unwind a little before a stressful day of work tomorrow.”

She regards him with caution. “If I drink that with you, that doesn’t automatically mean we’re gonna do it.”

“Yeah, I know how consent works.”

She sets her laptop on her nightstand and starts clearing off the bed. “There you go again, talking dirty.”

Nathaniel tries—and fails—not to smile. “You have a strange idea of what counts as seduction.”

~~~

“I swear it’s been so hard to dig up dirt on Josh Chan,” Rebecca says, tipping into Nathaniel as she tries to tuck one leg under the other. She takes an impressive swig from the bottle of wine—their second of the evening—and then passes it to him. “Barring the super obvious exception, that man is like…sunshine. Like dopey magical fairy dust incapable of misdeeds.”

Though his inhibitions are already lowered, Nathaniel takes a long pull from the bottle. His nose burns and his eyes water, but he’s going to need to be pass-out drunk if she keeps insisting upon the topic of Josh.

“And he’s like impervious to sabotage or something, which is surprising because he’s so easily distracted. I figured we could ruin the whole ‘become a priest’ thing by sending a pretty and willing lady his way, but he never took the bait. But he can’t actually be serious about it, right? I mean, he was supposed to commit to me, not God.” She grabs onto his shirt collar and tugs so hard their foreheads knock together as he turns. It doesn’t even give her pause, though. “What does God have that I don’t, huh?”

Stability is the answer that immediately pops into his head, but then his gaze drifts down to her angrily scrunched lips, and the response is gone quicker than it came.

“Uh.” He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, drawing back a couple inches. “Have you ever realized you talk about Josh like he’s a character in a story you’re writing—more of an archetype, less of an actual human being?”

“What? No I don’t.”

“You kinda do.”

Rebecca scoots away from him on the bed, looking scandalized. “I most certainly do not do that.”

“Come on,” Nathaniel says, resisting the urge to grab her and pull her close again. “The first couple weeks I knew you, you referred to him almost exclusively as ‘the man of your dreams’. Now he’s ‘human sunshine’? Real people aren’t paragons, Pudgy.”

She grabs the pillow out from under her and swings it hard at his face, but thankfully she’s too drunk to have very good aim and he’s able to catch it and tug it out of her hands. Before she can pout too much, he passes the wine back to her.

She begrudgingly takes a sip.

“All I’m saying is, this weird hero-worship thing you have going on is staunching your ability to process what happened to you.”

Rebecca hugs the bottle close to her chest. “Who are you, Dr. Akopian?”

Nathaniel raises his eyebrows. “Who?”

“Nothing. Nobody.”

He watches her closely for a second before snagging the wine back and then continuing. “Anyway, this whole revenge scenario of yours isn’t a way to get back at the flip-flop. It’s a transparent attempt to keep your entire life revolving around this unworthy dipshit.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. It’s okay to admit it.”

“And this convoluted pep talk of yours has nooooothing to do with trying to get me to say that I’m completely free of emotional attachments so we can have sex, I’m sure.”

“You’re the one who keeps bringing up sex, not me,” Nathaniel says, pursing his lips to keep himself from smiling.

Her mouth pops open and she gapes for a moment before sitting up straight and jabbing her finger at him. “Nope, nuh-uh, you’re not getting off the hook that easily. You just want an ‘I told you so’ moment, and I see right through you.”

“What would I have to say I told you so about?”

Rebecca pitches her voice low and says, “Commitment is stupid. It’s better to chase people around. We’re all sexual predators,” in a mocking voice.

He blinks.

“Whatever, I’m paraphrasing,” she says, grabbing the wine back.

“Okay. Let me make sure I have this right. Because I don’t believe marriage is worth it, you’re not going to admit you were hurt and move on…to maintain some falsely perceived moral high ground?”

She sneers at him before taking a drink. “The situation’s a lot more nuanced than that.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks. “Then spell it out for me. What are the finer points of this situation?”

Rebecca takes a moment to size him up. “You really wanna know?”

“You seem to really enjoy talking about it, so why not?”

“Fine. Yeah. I’ve known Josh Chan most of my life, and fate kept throwing us together, you know? That’s why I’ve always known our love was the real deal—because nothing could stop it. Not years of separation. Not his girlfriend. Not my sleeping with his best friend. No, our connection was stronger than all those things.”

“Wait, slow down,” he says, rubbing at his forehead. “That is a lot of new information to process.”

But she’s a runaway freight train and there’s no stopping her now. “And when it seemed like things really weren’t going to work out between us, I was going to accept it, okay? I really was. I was content to work on myself, but then fate intervened again and Josh and I were finally together for real. And I shared things with him…so much of myself. He knew how important our love was to me. He knew what it was gonna mean; what our marriage would be for me. But I guess the idea of sharing a lifetime with me is so repulsive that he had to turn to celibacy on our would-be wedding day!”

Her breathing is haggard by the time she finishes and she’s gripping the neck of the wine bottle so tightly that her knuckles are white and, damn, he’s not sure which of his impulses is stronger—to run from the room in terror or to give the human mess in front of him the comforting she so desperately needs.

He goes for the latter, easing the wine out of her hands and murmuring, “No. That’s not…that wasn’t what happened.”

She nods, shaking a single tear loose.

He gulps and brushes his knuckles across the overheated skin of her cheek, catching the tear with the pad of his thumb.

“Rebecca, no.”

The tears start gushing then, hot and unrestrained. She falls into him, burrowing her face into his chest. At first, he feels his lip curl in distaste, but then she makes a noise like a dying cat. With a resigned sigh, he gently guides her into his lap and wraps an arm around her waist, using his other hand to comb the curls back off her wet face.

“Why didn’t he l-l-love me?” She shudders with the force of her crying.

Nathaniel frowns, resting his forehead against the top of her head and taking a deep breath.

“I honestly have no idea,” he says, but he’s pretty sure he speaks too quietly for her to hear over the sound of her sobs.

He hugs her closer and thinks maybe—just maybe—he’s going a little bit soft.

#rebecca x nathaniel #crazy ex girlfriend #nathaniel plimpton #rebecca bunch #my fic

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sapphylicious · 8 years

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Time for the B1A4 con report! First off, let me just say it was TOTALLY WORTH IT, but as soon as @cactuarneedles and I arrived back in KC at midnight we were like, “Let’s never go to California again.” It was that kind of trip.

First off, our connecting flight in Denver was delayed. Not by a lot, but in retrospect that set the tone for the rest of the weekend. We still managed to arrive in SF on Saturday around noon, checked in at the hotel, and then got ramen for lunch in Japantown. It’s been, oh, 11 years since I was last in SF for Hyde’s Faith tour, and wandering around Japantown was a bit nostalgic. I wanted to buy All The Things but couldn’t have fit anything else into my carry-on except a Pusheen shirt I ended up getting just because. Also, makeup remover, since I forgot to bring any and didn’t realize until I was putting on my eyeliner (very, very carefully). The salesperson in Kpop Beauty liked my Big Bang hoodie lol.

We were running out of energy fast since we’d been up since 4am Central, so we went back to the hotel and ordered in for dinner. I slept as I usually do in new places, which is to say, not well, but I managed not to be too tired on Sunday.

As for Sunday.

Well.

It was raining all morning, and we’d bought umbrellas the day before at CVS, so we were like. The bare minimum of prepared. We also bought some trash bags to sit on. It was in the 50s but felt like it was in the 40s, and there was some wind, so overall it was a cold, wet, miserable experience. I’ve queued in line when it was colder (Akanishi Jin’s Yellow Gold tour in NYC in November was hella cold) but a) I was younger then, and b) I wasn’t being rained on. So Janel and I discovered our Too Old For This Shit threshold. If we hadn’t been close to the front of the line we probably would have said fuck it and stayed in the hotel room all day.

We took a break for lunch at a Vietnamese place where I was able to stop shivering for a while, and stayed there as long as we felt was reasonable. We’re not fans of the “claim a spot in line and then fuck off for the rest of the day until an hour before the doors open” tactic some people (read: assholes) like to use. Getting to be right in front of the stage is privilege you suffer for.

On the way back we decided to stop in a Target to buy some of those mini folding seats to help make the rest of the wait bearable (the trash-bags-on-ground was not working out for us). And this is where the trip really went to shit.

Janel left her purse in the restroom by accident. She realized it the moment we stepped outside and went back to the restroom in three minutes tops, and by then everything inside her purse had been stolen. Cash, cards, ID, keys -- the only thing she still had was her phone since it had been in her pocket (which luckily also had the tickets).

Soooo she pretty much spent the rest of the afternoon making phone calls and filing a police report -- not that the police could actually do anything about it, but it was good to have for getting through airport security for our flight back. So note: you can fly domestically without an ID, but it’s a huge pain for everyone.

At least by then it had basically stopped raining. There was a little bit of a situation when the lines were separated and we had to leave our spot to wait in another line for our VIP wristbands. I asked a girl I recognized being a couple people ahead of us to save our spot (couldn’t find the people who’d been directly in front or behind), but when we eventually got our wristbands I couldn’t find her again, or anyone else who had been near us in the original line. So we kind of just cut in at roughly the same area and miraculously no one gave us shit about it.

Let me just say, out of the several cons I’ve been to, B1A4 fans are the most chill. I remember standing in line for Big Bang and recalling how VIPs used to claim to be the most chill fans and lol nah man just nah. We chatted a little with the people around us, told the "everything got stolen” story a few times -- and also the “we’re from the Midwest” story. YOU PEOPLE IN LA AND SF DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE LIVING IN THE ENTIRE REST OF THE UNITED STATES. Travel for Kpop is a given. I’ve made weekend trips from the East Coast all the way to the West Coast for Kpop. This is also why we only go to cons for our absolute favorite groups, and will pull out all the stops for them. I figure I’ll only do this for B1A4, Big Bang, Epik High, TVXQ/JYJ, and maaaybe I might do it for VIXX. Maybe.

Getting into the venue wasn’t an issue and we wound up about four people back from the stage. We were hella sore by then, although I think it was worse for Janel since she was running back and forth a lot and under a ton more stress. Luckily the con didn’t start too late, and I forgot how much my feet hurt most of the time (I’m really glad I have a pair of comfortable boots).

So. B1A4 in person.

This is the first concert where I bothered to take pictures and record video, but I don’t know how some fans can dedicate their attention to recording the whole time because I was a flailing mess lol. THEY WERE SO CLOSE. They’re all really attractive in person??? I mean Gongchan is of course a given and he is EVEN MORE HANDSOME THAN ADVERTISED no wonder Sandeul and Jinyoung don’t shut up about how he looks. The suits they wore for most of the show were very nice and ESPECIALLY when they took off the jackets because men in waistcoats are my weakness. Jinyoung rolling up his shirtsleeves jesus christ and he does it all neatly too (whereas Baro’s sleeves kept falling and flopping around lol). Jinyoung is so fucking charming it’s unfair. When the water bottles came out he liked to hold them up and tease the crowd lmao how... typical...

CNU was amazing with the fanservice and the body rolls lol and he has such pretty hair. There was a moment duringggg I think Baby Goodnight when he and Gongchan were really cute together. I was filming Sandeul and had to quickly cut over to them with their arms around each other.

Baro did a lot of talking in English, I was surprised and impressed and I think this con has cemented him as third in my lineup of faves (Sandeul-Jinyoung-Baro-Gongchan-CNU). I feel like he interacted with the crowd best and I saw him paying attention to the balcony people often too, but someone needs to take the word “lit” away from him hahaha.

The venue was small so it was really easy for them to reach every part of the stage, we got to see all of them up close in roughly equal amounts but ngl my memory is like 70% Sandeul because I tracked him all across the stage.

BOY CAN HE SING. Not only does he sound amazing but you can tell just by looking at him how passionate he is, the way he moves and puts more of himself into it than the others do. The only way the con could have been more perfect is if he’d been able to perform a solo. Or just. If he could release a full-length solo album and then go on tour that was be okay too. He teased us by singing 그렇게 있어줘~ and augh so good. SO GOOD. AND SO CUTE. He’s so adorable I can hardly stand it. Near the end he was crouched down in front of us and stuck out his tongue bUT I DIDN’T MANAGE TO RECORD IT. OPPORTUNITY LOST.

I did however record the cheek squishing. It was so classic. Jinyoung goes for the cheeks, Sandeul tries to retaliate but misses, Jinyoung waits for a few seconds and then goes in again to get a good grip and Sandeul looks SO RESIGNED before he jerks his face away. They did this while Baro was talking and he was like “Hey, it’s my turn now!” lol poor Baro.

I also have some pics of CNU lowkey harassing Sandeul and Sandeul giving him this Look afterwards. And Gongchan fussing with Sandeul’s clothes. And Sandeul limp in Baro’s arms. I ship my bias with everyone, can you tell.

They were all so cute though, ugh, I love B1A4. I’m so glad I gave Kpop another chance after I thought the TVXQ breakup was the End Of All Things.

We fought with another girl over one of the towels thrown into the crowd. I only made a claim so it would be 2 vs 1 but we both lost the rock-paper-scissors battle and had to give it up. In retrospect we maybe should have played the “she was robbed today” pity card because you’d think after losing all the contents of your purse you could at least get a towel in compensation. We’re unfortunately not that combative though. At least this time the opponent didn’t cheat and throw down her choice late. Like I said, in terms of the fans B1A4 has much fewer assholes than I’m used to encountering.

I felt like a drowned rat by the end of the show and feared for my eyeliner but luckily it wasn’t running or even smudged (thanks, Stila stay all day waterproof liquid eyeliner). My hair was rather bedraggled though and after the rain and the water bottles it was like, why did I even bother curling it that morning, but what can you do.

I wanted to say something to everyone during the high touch -- I knew it was going to be quick but the staff really hurried everyone through which was annoying, and I had a holyshitholyshitholyshit internal monologue going when actually face to face with the boys. So I only managed a weak “thank you” to Gongchan who said it back (he’s so sweet ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥) and I blurted out a rather embarrassing “I love you!!” to Sandeul ahahaha god so much for being a cool, mature noona. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The walk back to the hotel was short, although we did wind up briefly walking in the wrong direction somehow because I can’t be trusted with directions even if the distance is only a few blocks. Our flight home was around 11am so we planned to get up extra early to have plenty of time for Janel to get through additional screening.

Aaaand then in the morning the flight was delayed to the afternoon, which would cause us to miss our connecting flight. So we had to book a whole new trip which didn’t leave until 3:20 pm.

Getting through security wasn’t too bad for either of us, and we waited around watching B1A4 fancams and reading fan accounts. As it got close to departure there were some confusing announcements about delays and we found out our gate had changed with no warning. Also the flight was slightly delayed. Luckily (?), our connecting flight in Vegas was also delayed. Still, by the time we got there we only had 15 min before we began boarding.

(Also, even the airport in Vegas has slots lol.)

It was a veeery turbulent ride back. All of our flights for this trip have been turbulent, but that last one was the worst. I’m not afraid of flying but I can now understand how some people could be. At one point I looked over at Janel and said, “I hope we don’t die.” If the plane went down I decided I would just pray for a quick death and also to be reborn as a cat so I can spend my life eating, sleeping, and being petted.

Finally, around midnight, we were back in KC.

Me: Let’s never go to California again. Next time there’s a concert, NY or Chicago or even Jersey is fine. Janel: SF is a flaming trash heap. It is the Tumblr of cities.

Sorry, SF, I liked you for years but now I am okay with never setting foot in you again.

But still: WORTH IT.

#down the b1a4 rabbit hole #real life junk

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shikungigi · 6 years

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Someone keeps saying I should do more travel pieces, but I keep fighting it, in the spirit of keeping things under wraps. But something changed this time, and I thought it’s good to talk about travelling in its true unInstagrammable form. It started with missing my flight. You do not want to ever miss your flight, friend. If you are going somewhere in the evening, just make sure you are at JKIA by afternoon, honestly. I fought against my very instinct and ended up leaving way later and then not using the bypass. So once we were stuck in Upper Hill traffic, I knew we were done for and just pretty much gave up.

You will meet drivers who think they know Nairobi shortcuts, those that lead you straight into the bowels of the traffic glut itself claiming there is less traffic in the tiny roads. It is painful. And, I, for one, will never take a bodaboda from CBD to JKIA to beat time. I am not crazy and I love myself too much. To cut the long story short, we ended up at the gate right at the minute it closed. After confusing ourselves for another many minutes and taking the wrong escalators and turns. LOL. Also, I was not laughing that time.

We had to make very quick decisions and pay the penalty for the next flight out at midnight. Through it all, my colleague thought I was in denial. I was so collected – like, this happens to me all the time sister, relax. My dad called and suggested I ask where Miguna had been staying so I can spend the time there as well. SMH. I counted the notes at that customer service desk and it all felt so surreal. The total penalty was more than the original flight cost. But later on my colleague reminded me to count my blessings. It could always be worse. The price of a lesson learnt far outweighs the experience. We might not even have had that money in the first place and could have missed the next flight altogether. I was supposed to be mad at someone for this but I was not. Did I forget to mention the part where I left something in the Uber because of the rush? I had to smile at so many men to go backwards through departures to the starting point to meet the driver at the terminal. This involved leaving my passport behind too and coming back to an immigration guy who wanted to play with my head and freak me out by not giving it back immediately.

Not the perfect start to a travel story, right? Wrong. This is the real deal.

Entebbe. Until this trip happened, it had not hit me that Entebbe is the main airport in Uganda, even with the movies made about the hijacking in 1976. I always thought Kampala had another. It’s like JKIA being in Limuru. I am not even kidding you. It takes about 50 minutes to fly to Entebbe. So when you get your stamp and head out through security, you realize how small the place is compared to where you came from and that you are 40km away from your destination. Also, the cars here are slightly older than the ones you see in Nairobi, but it is another Toyota land. A lot of Ubers and Taxifys are Spacios, Ipsums, Raums and whatever other Toyota that is in this family of cars. The driver educated me a lot during that one hour trip in the middle of the night. Apparently Toyota Wish is now taking over the taxi industry and the people who run the country are about to pass a bill reducing the age of cars allowed into the country like us.

Petrol stations. They. Are. So. Many. The whole stretch from Entebbe to Kampala probably has a hundred petrol stations. Or more. Or I am just exaggerating. One person told me it’s because no one travels on full tank here, so they need to have filling stations everywhere when the inevitable happens. There is a good amount of road construction going on to fix the traffic situation this side, but because kids were on holiday, I did not get to see the famed traffic in action.

So we get to Kampala Boulevard, our home for the week and who welcomes us? A napping security guard. No surprise there. I announce our final destination and he offers to walk us up. I almost fall over when he gets up and turns around. A huge AK 47 is hanging from his shoulder across his back. I look at my colleague in disbelief and she gives me the you-ain’t-seen-nothing-yet look – she has travelled to Uganda a lot before. I will have to do further research into how much safer Uganda is with guns as compared to Kenya and our detectors that I have always doubted do much at all those entrances.

The suite is real nice with a great view of this side of the city. The buildings are not as high as Nairobi’s. It’s also not cold. The warmth that I experience the next couple of days just makes me want to stay longer. Even when it showers, the change in temperature is minimal.

Café Javas. My friends. Have you sampled CJ’s on Koinange Street yet? You know, the beautiful new restaurant that’s almost all glass with the most beautiful popping menus I have ever seen and equally good food and service? Well. You ain’t seen nothing yet until you go to one of CJ’s mothers in Kampala, Café Javas. And in case you did not know why it is CJ’s, the two had previously fought the trademark battle in court in Uganda when Java was seeking to register its trademark in the country. Java won and now has branches in Kampala. We already know Uganda is very agriculturally rich, right? I mean, we nearly wept on our way back to the airport looking at tomatoes the size of fists sitting pretty in the sun in various markets along Kampala-Entebbe Road. Meanwhile, we’re buying beat-up tomatoes like gold on this other side of Lake Victoria. Sigh.

Anyway, back to Café Javas. In addition to the huge servings you get, with additions that make you want to ululate in exhilaration like Njugush, it is still cheaper than its equivalent in Kenya. I literally camped here the whole week, despite how packed it could get. Juzi I got a milkshake from Java and I wanted to cry. I felt so cheated. It suddenly felt watery. The shakes at Cafe Javas are heavenly. Did I mention the Pina Coladas! (Without rum, of course.) I guess I will never look at anything food related the same way again after Uganda. LOL. It suddenly makes more sense why the British with all their resources insisted on cutting through thickets, man-eaters, tribes with different temperaments, mountains and rift valleys to get to Uganda, the Pearl of Africa. I cannot even begin to get jealous. Idi Amin really did some serious injustice to the country.

Museveni. My fellow Kenyans, I was mistaken about him. This president is brilliant, very sharp and focused for his age (73) and he does not read speeches. At least he did not read one here. We were at the Africa Blockchain Conference when I changed my mind. Let’s try to forget that our gadgets had to be taken away because he was in the building and focus on this: He was speaking about blockchain and cryptocurrencies from a very informed perspective, referring to handwritten notes he had been making throughout. Before he stood up to speak, the Bank of Uganda governor had read out a very scary speech which had me wondering why we were there in the first place. You know, the usual we will not entertain anything that is about crypto because it is scam. Enter the president. He urged the governor to be more inquisitive about such technologies – not to be dogmatic – and then broke down the blockchain concept in such an easy-to-understand way that I felt challenged. I have been doing everyone who has asked me about bitcoin and blockchain an injustice the past four years. I can now break it down in one simple sentence from the president: The blockchain is like a global organization/sacco in which people trust each other, put everything in public record books so that anyone anywhere can know how many bulls Museveni has in I-don’t-know-where. He spoke a lot of Baganda too, so 5% of the jokes were lost on that.

Allow me to digress a bit. For some strange reason the conference organizers chose to have scams over too, exhibiting and all that. And that is exactly who the Ugandan media chose to interview too. This beats the whole point of trying to educate people about the benefits of new technologies. Dear Ugandans, please stay away from OneLife/OneCoin and any other thing that cheats you out of your money. Seriously. Fight the urge to get easy money. I mean, even a simple Google search tells you what is a scam and what is not very easily. The funny thing is we keep telling people to stay away from these schemes, even in Kenya, but get-rich-quick schemes always have followers. And things always go south. End of digression.

At one point, we went to this French place in a very upmarket part of Kampala. Holy Crepe. From the moment we sat down, in addition to a beautiful view of the residential Kampala, all we saw were people jogging up and down the hill. At 5PM. I found that very strange. At another point, a friend took me to another hotel, Mestil Hotel & Residences. I would expect the prices to be off the roof, and again, I was shocked. A good meal here ranges from USh 28,000 USh to 35,000 UGX. Brethren, this is way under KSh 1000. Sijui nirudi Uganda?

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But on the other hand, that money is confusing. You have so many zeroes in your pocket, but you literally have very little money. It confused me the whole time I was trying to pay for some stuff. I had to keep reaching out to Google to help me convert to Kenya Shillings to see if I was being ripped off. Then every time you get into a taxi (apparently, they also refer to matatus as taxis), the driver will close the windows very fast and rhetorically ask if you want your phone to be snatched. Turns out this is the order of the day in Kampala. Nairobi you are not alone. I also gave up on Uber here and stuck to Taxify. For some reason the latter drivers have it together than their Uber counterparts.

Also, there is no way I am spending my life on bodas. Bodas are so part of the system, there is UberBoda. I had to get on bodas thrice that week. The first time, I felt like I was going to go nuts. I never touch the rider leave alone hold on to him, so I have to find something to grip behind me. And all along way, you see women sitting sideways on these things. I am like, are you kidding me? And helmets are not a thing here either. The second time was riding down to Owino market because everyone in Kenya could not shut up about that place. First of all, it’s not all that but clothing is actually pretty cheap. Everything is under 1000 bob. No one has a mirror or a fitting room when you try on stuff because apparently, they are all doing it wholesale. *Rolls eyes repeatedly* I did not spend too much time here, because we were running a tight schedule, but it reminded me of a lesser organized Eastleigh. And that is saying a lot because Eastleigh is NOT organized. Did I mention the seller dudes who grab your arms and not let go like they are your boyfriends? That annoyed me bigtime. Hata afadhali makanga wa Kenya sasa. Also, people in the market try to speak some Swahili unlike everyone else Kampala. Or probably these are just the same Kenyans we know here.

I might keep going on and on – the little bit of Uganda I experienced felt so different yet so much like home – so let me stop. And I bet I only caught a glimpse – I have not done the city any writing justice. Yet. You can only learn and see so much in a few days.

Road trip to Jinja, anyone? I am ready to see more of Uganda. 🙂

Kampala Goodness Someone keeps saying I should do more travel pieces, but I keep fighting it, in the spirit of keeping things under wraps.

#Blockchain #Travel and Tourism #Uganda #Work

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thenegativethreepercent-blog · 8 years

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My Introduction/Beginning of a Story Thing?

Hey anyone who might see this! Kale Salad here (that’s my nickname, if you’re in need of context). This is our Tumblr, and if you read our description, you know we made this blog because we have a YouTube channel! Coincidentally, I am a helplessly sentimental person who likes to think I’m good at writing things late at night. So if anyone (for whatever reason) is interested, I’ve started writing a lil thing about the three of us going off to college. None of what I write has happened (yet); it’s more of an imagining of how I might think things will go and I thought some people might enjoy it. Another thing: I used our (decently odd) nicknames in it so I don’t embarrass myself. If you’re interested, keep reading! Chapter one is below. :)

The night before we left for our pre-college road trip, I was a complete mess. Everything I could possibly take with me on the journey that my two closest friends, Milano Cookie and Deli Sandwich, and I were about to make from Kodiak, Alaska, where we had grown up, down to San Francisco was stowed safely in my suitcase and ready to go. However, being myself, I found countless things to be stressed out about the night before, as usual. We had been planning this one last escapade before we headed off to college together in California for months, and yet a million unanswered questions hovered at the back of my mind: what if we get lost on the trip and what if we go over our budget and is any of this a good idea at all and, most worryingly, what if trying to be an adult goes horribly wrong? After I had written my umpteenth to-do list and inevitably scrapped it, I forced myself to relax. It was already 1:30 a.m. and, if I wasn’t careful, my obsessive need to plan was going to keep me from waking up at five in the morning for our flight. I laid on top of my covers for a while, trying to get to sleep, but after almost an hour of this with no success, I gave up and reached for my phone, intent on texting Milano or Deli. Although there was a slim chance that either of them were still awake, it quieted my anxious thoughts to try.

Hey, is anyone awake? I typed into our group chat and set down my phone with a sigh. I got a response from Milano within five minutes.

Yep, I neglected to pack until now. Kinda panicking. You? I giggled under my breath, feeling myself settle down a little. It felt good to know that my friends felt just as unprepared as I did.

I’m freaking out a little too. My obsessive-compulsive nature is keeping me up. But I’m sure we’ll be okay.

Yeah. This is scary, but we’ll survive this. Plus, we have the whole Summer ahead of us to screw around before we actually buckle down for college. Think about all the fun things we have planned! Remember what our first stop is...;)

Another wave of anxiety mixed with excitement crashed over me as I remembered what we – I – had planned for that first road trip stop. I exhaled shakily and hoped that the Melatonin I had taken earlier would kick in soon, whisking me off to sleep where my doubts might leave me alone for a little while longer. Finally, I typed a reply: Oh god. Is stopping there even a good idea at all? I haven’t seen them in years. What if things are different and weird? Please give me a pep talk.

Milano responded almost immediately, forever my fast-typing savior: I know you’re nervous, but you’ll be okay. :) You’ve kept in contact with them, so it’s not like you two are total strangers. At the very least, think of it an occasion to catch up. It’s just coffee. They asked you, remember?

She was right. That’s all it was – reconnecting over coffee. I was just meeting them as an old friend, and trying my best to forget the fact that we had some pretty serious history (oh god what was I thinking?). But none of that mattered anymore. I tried to ignore the thoughts in my head about the amazing time we had spent together in the past. Tried to pretend it was just coffee to me too. I chewed a piece of skin off my lip as I replied. Yeah, I guess I’ll figure it out. Thanks. We should probably sleep now, or we’ll miss our flight lol. See you early tomorrow! 

I forced myself to take slower breaths as I turned up my music and closed my eyes again. I would deal with my irrational doubts and fears about our plans in the morning. For now, I needed my sleep. We had a big summer ahead of us.

I woke up to an alarm I had set the night before, a horrible techno song I had liked for some reason in middle school, blaring unapologetically in my ear. I groaned and, while contemplating all the different ways I would like to murder my past self and/or cruelly destroy my phone, rolled out of bed and stumbled to the light switch. I checked my messages as I walked to my dresser, blinking sleep out of my eyes – from the night before, there was a response goodnight text from Milano, as well as three from Deli, a few minutes earlier that morning, asking us “why were you guys up so late in the chat wtf and also yes Kale you’ll be fine and also probably get laid shut up nerd”. I snorted – this was why I was spending college with these two.

Preparation to leave that morning went by pretty quickly, and I was surprisingly calm the whole time, probably from the shock of it all. I threw on an oversized sweater and leggings, haphazardly brushed my teeth and hair, and hauled my suitcase up the stairs. Outside in the dark of too-early morning, my friends were waiting for me in Deli’s beat-up, piece-of-shit red pickup truck, the headlights cutting a path through the mist in the air. Deli, as always, had her Spotify playlist blasting way too loud, and even though it wasn’t her car, Milano was at the wheel. I could imagine her convincing Deli to let her drive, saying with a giggle that she didn’t want us to be run off the road and die in a ditch by Deli’s terrible driving, thankyouverymuch. I smiled at that moment and knew that I had made the right choice in going on this road trip with them. There were no two people I’d rather spend my summer with. Before I rushed out the door, my parents both gave me tearful hugs, promising to mail me the rest of my stuff in a box once I got settled at Stanford in the Fall. I would miss them, but I knew it was time to leave that island I had grown up on behind.

I ran out to Deli’s pickup, threw my suitcases in the flatbed with the rest of my best friends’ things, and told Deli, who was in the passenger’s seat, to scooch, because I was not sitting with our luggage. When I opened the door, Milano grinned and handed me a can of Redbull. “Here’s your life support. I was smart enough to raid Safeway before Deli picked me up.” She jokingly rolled her eyes, smiling wider, and nudged Deli with her elbow. I sighed in relief, beaming at Milano, and took the can, thankful that I had friends who were aware of the extreme importance of artificial energy to my system at all times. Then, once I squished and maneuvered myself into the small space between Deli and the car door, we were off. It seemed almost like one of our many late-night drives, except now there was a strange and new excitement in the air, as if even the molecules were aware of our impending departure. All the way to the airport, we discussed the shops we would visit in Pike Place Market and what the lines would be like at Six Flags and how Deli was definitely going to buy me Dairy Queen once we got out of Kodiak because I hadn’t had it in years. When we finally got to the parking lot, however, we all drifted into silence. It was mostly empty of cars, since we had opted for the cheapest – and earliest – flight that day, and it seemed like the whole world was paused as we made our figurative and literal steps toward adulthood.

“Are you guys ready for this?” Milano asked, looking towards the gate, fiddling with the straps of her backpack. In that moment, I was sure that I was the readiest I had ever been, and Deli must have agreed, because we both nodded silently at Milano before the three of us continued to the entrance. A little coffee meetup was nothing if I had them by my side.

The flights were exhausting, but the Redbull kept me awake, so I spent my airborne time watching the sun slowly rise over the clouds, lighting them up with blinding pinks, yellows, and oranges. At our stop in the Anchorage airport, I started to get nervous, specifically about the “little” meetup for coffee that seemed less and less small and risk-free the closer our final flight came. Was I even ready for it? What if I said something stupid and offensive like I frequently did in normal situations? And what if things were awkward and unbearably different? It had been almost two years – I had no idea what might’ve changed in that time. I tried not to get my hopes up, afraid of being crushed again. While all these thoughts darted through my head in rapid succession, I followed behind Deli and Milano, who were wandering aimlessly through the little shops and restaurants we passed in the airport, looking for neck pillows and a specific kind of chewing gum from Japan that Deli had seen once and wanted to try. I wished I could focus completely on worrying about the little details, like they were, instead of being stuck constantly thinking about someone who most likely had no intention of starting anything with me again. I shook my head, pushing those thoughts to the side, and jogged to catch up with my two best friends – I was going to enjoy this trip, coffee or not.

I let out an exaggerated sigh of contentment and fell back onto my hotel bed. It was around noon, and we had reached our Seattle hotel room at last. We had booked the room for eight days, hoping that would be enough to explore the city thoroughly.

My eyes were closed, but from my left, I heard Milano muttering. “How the fuck did you get this room for so cheap? The view is amazing and it literally has like five rooms.”

I cracked one eye open to see Milano gazing out the window at the buildings around us, and snickered quietly. “I’m a hotel witch, didn’t you know?”

Milano chuckled at that and padded into her room, connected to mine by a small door. She was right, the room was huge – it had a main room and a bathroom, with three separate bedrooms connected to it that were also connected to each other. The truth was that I had spent a fortune of my own money to book it – I wanted our only hotel stay to be memorable and enjoyable before we left our creature comforts and inhabited connecting buses for the rest of the summer. I closed my eyes again, which were startled open only a moment later as Deli hopped on my bed next to me and poked my cheek. I frowned and kicked her to make her leave me alone and let me sleep the day away.

“Hey, you have a date in about three hours and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to look like you just woke up from a nap.” She whispered, laughter in her voice. I darted up, swearing under my breath and muttering that it wasn’t a date, just a meetup. As Deli scoffed and shook her head, I darted into the bathroom and turned the shower on. I still wanted to look presentable.

#introduction #trio achieved #story #writing #idk #this is cringy and i'm still posting it whoops #FIGHT MEEEE

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