#scanning services in long beach

[naffeclipse]

Sea Tears

Reader x Selkie!Moon

Commission Info

Thank you to the darling @cipher-the-sidhe for commissioning me to write about Selkie!Moon! The setting and the scenario are absolutely delightful. It's a shame I haven't written a selkie until now but I'm so glad I finally did!

Content Warning for mild injury and blood.

———

You tread carefully through the salt-tinged darkness and listen. A low hum plays along the moonbeams brightening the Salish Sea coast in an ancient voice you cannot translate. The fish and the seals might understand it as it thrums like insects on the wind or the constant, murmuring dance of the waves. You wonder if it is simply the sea. Perhaps it is something hidden along the dark inky waters now softly lapping up in the high tide.

Bends and sharp juts of coves shelter the rocky beaches. Further inland, a dense forest of coniferous evergreens conceal the beautiful shore and thrive in high levels of salt spray. You descend to the water, minding every step knowing that a slick, ocean-stained rock could easily lead you into a stumble and your head could crack open like an egg on the wave-smooth stones. 

These beaches are not for sunbathing and sand castles. They are to stand and admire the great breath of the Salish Sea and the bumps of crags lining the dark teal ocean—if the mist and cold don’t form an avid deterrent.

You rub your arms over the sleeves of your jacket and breathe a crisp scent. Driftwood dots the edge of land and water, and heaps of bull kelp sway farther out in the sea, lurking like guardians just along the surface to whatever might wander from the depths. 

Tonight, the fog is wonderfully parted by the silver-fingered light of the full moon. You scan the crevices in between dark, angled but blunt rocks, seeking the smooth fragments of seashells. In your years, you have rarely discovered a whole heart cockle or horse clam shell. There are only remnants of what was whole. 

The sand is firm and brown. The water gushes between stones before receding gently back with a frothy lace edge, bubbling and tumbling over itself just to do it all over again. You spy a fragment of a castoff shell, bleached and pale. You bend carefully down to scoop up its shard like a piece missing from a puzzle you wish to finish.

You hold it between your fingers. A curve or perhaps half of a spiral of a shell, sculpted by the waves now, softened by the time of being broken. Still, it is beautiful.

Carefully, you straighten while you slip it into your pocket. A soft understanding fills you to the bottom of your rib cage. A kinship, perhaps. You cast your eyes around you for a moment, admiring the moonlight until it shines upon a texture that is not often found here. 

Fur. Silver and speckled in blue-gray, it sits, slumped and hunched between two rocks, lying lifeless.

A seal. The dawning comes upon you in a moment of the rushing tide, and then, your feet are moving towards it. Your heart twists while you watch it sharply. How it could be so still and thin? Is it injured? You don’t have your phone with you—you left it in the car parked beside the oceanside road. Who would you call? Wildlife service? Perhaps it’s already too late.

No. You pray it isn’t.

You weave between sand and stones. Where the unmoving figure lies is thick with rocks, with almost no beach to speak of other than what is buried beneath. Your sandals slip on the slick edges of the rugged terrain. Wobbling, you catch yourself before you sling your body along a craggy boulder. You pass over the harsh edges and corners of the rocky shore, almost within reach. The fur hasn’t moved an inch at your rash approach. Your throat bobs for a moment in the horror of coming upon a long rotted seal—then your sandal-clad foot slips. 

A whip of sea and wind, and you fall. You throw your elbow down to catch you and it scraps sharply down the side of rough rock. You gasp when you bounce and slide, splashing into a thin strip of the tide slipping between cracks and crevices, but hold your chin high, away from any fatal head injuries.

You inhale slowly, eyes wide in the relief that you are not currently dripping your brains out of your skull like spilled yoke. A thin, stinging pain erupts along your forearm. Prying yourself off of the ground, watching where you place your feet, you get back up. A glance at the fur confirms it is still there. Slowly, you twist your arm to examine a fine, ragged cut slicing towards your wrist. A mix of sand, salt water, and blood spread across your skin. 

You breathe as it flares with pain. You close your eyes and convince yourself that you’ll clean and bandage it once you get back to your car.

First, the seal.

You lower your arm. Blood drops into the water as you at last reach the two stones the fur is wedged between, and tentatively, you reach out with the vain hope it might be warm and move with life. Your fingers stroke over the beautifully silver shade of the coat, dappled with blue-gray markings and a few, lovely rings at the end. But strangely, it’s cool with mist and bunched like fabric. Your mind turns the conundrum over slowly as if examining a broken seashell before you tug on it, higher, higher, until you hold in your hand the thin skin of a seal.

A pelt.

There is no blood, sinew, or otherwise, much to your relief. It carries a smooth sleekness on its underside. The strangeness of it tugs at a part of your mind, a memory of folklore and tales spoken around a table late at night. The beautiful pelt fills your vision with its starry silver shade and the Pacific ocean-deep hue of its markings. Carefully, as if handling platinum and sapphires, you caress the fur with the back of your fingers. A drop of blood from your arm threatens to stain it and you quickly shift the hide to your clean arm. You can’t ruin this beautiful coat with your crimson.

You lift your head. You gaze out over the ocean, rippling with the incandescence of the moon upon its onyx surface. Your heart bobs within you. Your eyes seek, and your ears strain.

The hum of the ocean which has filled you since you first arrived in the darkness grows. It is no longer a muffled, soft sound carried from behind closed lips but a soft melody lifted upon a voice. It rises to the sky. Over the driftwood and waves, you turn to face it, clutching the seal skin to your chest.

A man sings.

A part of you, undeniable and filled with longing, strides towards it. Following the curve of the rocky beach, you watch your every step. A plea in your core echoes with the desire to find the one singing. The crystal vibrations of the siren call rings through your bones. 

A rocky cove crops up on the side of a bluff, cutting off the beach but resuming with a swell of the tide into its darkened alcove. Once you near the mouth, you stop to bask in the lovely timbre. 

Then, with your fingers tangled in the soft, sleek fur of the seal pelt, you stand upon a rock just out of reach of the oceanic tide and peer into the cove.

In the glow of the night, a man stands in the icy shallows. You can only gaze at his striking figure wrapped in moonbeams. He steps lightly, his movement rhythm. The water ripples softly underneath him. He waves his arms, his limbs flowing over his head and down, like a wind sweeping the rocks and ushering the mist higher onto land. He turns, and one leg sweeps over the inky surface before stepping back. 

His body is long-limbed and slender, blue-gray like the speckles on the fur you hold. Upon his face is a marking of a silver crescent. His rich copper eyes flash in the dimness and are half-lidded in his homage to the great sea. Your breath stalls in your throat caught upon his visage. His face is wide and flat. Draping behind his head is an appendage much like a seal tail, an even darker blue with spots of glimmering silver-like stars.

His voice carries a song you have no name for but that which you hold only the most reverence in its echo. Your lips part unwittingly in adoration. He sings to himself and dances to an audience of the black sky filled with the moon.

But you twitch a hand forward as if you might catch a note of his lullaby and cradle it close to your chest. The man’s head snaps towards you. You freeze.

In a second of time and starlight, he holds your gaze, and you slip into the coppery irises that fill his wide eyes. His attention slips to what you clutch. You glance down, admiring the fur anew before you find your voice, hollowed and soft.

“Is this yours?” you ask.

The man stares, motionless like the bluffs the waves beat against. A few heartbeats pass within you. The man gently dips his head. The tail on the back of his head sways slightly like a nightcap.

“It is,” he speaks. “Please return it to me. I cannot return to the sea and my brothers without my coat.”

His voice rasps through the salty air and brushes the shell of your ear as if he whispered it to you. 

The word emerges in your mind like the fall of dusk. Selkie. One who has shed his fur to take a faintly human form under the full moon. The tales you’ve caught murmurs of were always of women, beautiful and naked, who begged for their seal skin back but spent the rest of their days held captive by the man who kept it hidden, forced to become a bride and carry his children.

An ache takes over your heart at such a cruel fate.

You answer with a gentle, “Of course.”

You slowly step into the icy waters. A shiver rolls up your body and you catch your tongue between your teeth to keep from gasping out at the shock of the brine. The selkie watches you, his eyes unreadable, his hands poised with his fingers half furled—as if you intend to dangle his seal skin in front of him before yanking it out of reach.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe. You wade far less gracefully in the echoes of his dance and song to reach him under the cove’s mouth, “I didn’t intend to keep it. I only meant to return it to you.”

You find the truth along your tongue. Even if you didn’t catch a glimpse of his beautiful melody, you would have left the coat where it lay, too afraid of stranding a selkie without her or his skin.

He says nothing until you present it to him. Carefully, you hold it out to him and his long fingers grasp it. A soft breath leaves him. His shoulders lower while he turns his coat over and examines it, stroking the fine fur before leveling an unreadable gaze over you. You’re small before his tall figure. You feel clumsy and cumbersome in comparison to his lissom body. 

A true selkie, right before your eyes.

“So you did,” he at last murmurs as if he were dreaming. His copper eyes glide over you. His blue-gray body shimmers with a galaxy-like illumination. He carefully folds his coat over his arm before holding out his other hand and bidding you closer. “Come here. Sit with me.”

You stare at his offered palm. A few thoughts cross your mind of danger and temptation, a selkie ready to snatch away an unwary human, but would he have asked you so kindly? You slide your fingers into his grasp. He holds your hand before gently tugging you down until you cross your legs and sit in the icy cove water beside him.

“Is it true?” you ask, then flush slightly with the bluntness of your voice echoing in the alcove.

He tilts his head at you, the appendage at the back of his head slipping over your shoulder. His silence coaxes you softly into asking, “Do humans really steal the coats of selkies and force them into marriage?”

The selkie’s eyes lower, somber, before he dips his chin. “It is true. But not always.” His eyes find yours and hold them softly.

He has yet to release your hand, but slowly, he lifts your wrist and turns it slowly. You almost forget the sting until the sight of the bloody cut down your arm strikes you once more. Your lips twist at the sight, glancing at the selkie and fearing his judgment. How human you are, bleeding in his ocean.

“What did this?” he asks in a low voice, his eyes outlining the edges of your wound.

“A fall,” you say sheepishly, “I thought your coat was an injured seal.”

A laugh, rolling and deep, loosens from his lips. A not unwelcome shudder fills you in the sound. Mischievous and sincere, all at once.

“You must be more careful,” he says, his laughter dying as he leans closer.

You curl your fingers. Pressing back in the slightest as he hovers over your torn flesh, you hushly ask his name.

But he doesn’t answer. You watch in the quiet of the tide as the selkie blinks, and a tear falls onto your sliced forearm. A soft tingle spreads through your flesh. You glance down, and another tear falls, mingling with the sand and ocean salt, but the tingling becomes a gentle sensation knitting and stitching the skin together. In stunned silence, you observe seven tears in total bind your wound as if you never fell.

“This is my thanks for returning my coat.” The selkie releases your arm to gently wash it with a touch of brackish water. Blood and sand wash away, leaving your skin as it once was. He lifts his head and smiles. “I am Moon, and I must go.”

“Oh.” The sound is so small coming from you. “Moon…”

You echo your name. It feels so weak in comparison to his, but he takes it within his mouth and he sings it once. Your heart bobs within your chest as if floating upon a storm-tossed sea. 

“Goodbye,” he rasps. He holds your gaze, soft as seafoam, and tugs his coat over his body. He slips down into the water. A flick of velvet flippers emerges, and a large seal lifts his head above water. 

You gaze at the beautiful copper eyes of the seal. Whiskers twitch and a wet nose presses closer to you. Slowly, carefully, you stretch your fingers and stroke the soft fur of his head. Your palm runs down the slippery slope of his neck to his strong, blubbered back. The selkie holds beautifully still.

“Goodbye, Moon,” you whisper.

The selkie eyes upturn, somehow grinning in an animal form. In a sharp splash, he turns and dives into the water. The sleek dappled fur of his pelt mingles with the moonlight reflecting upon the black ocean before the waves reclaim one of its own. 

You stay in the cove for a time you cannot account for, watching the waters, wishing to catch the echo of his song just one last time.

Gradually, like the moon beginning to shift across the darkness, you get to your feet. Water splashes back into the cove. Your heart grows heavy and forlorn, and you rub your fingertips together as if still stroking his fur.

Perhaps you might return in search of broken seashells but find the selkie again.

[wolverigrl]

Thirst Tweets

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

!Disclaimer! I’ve got a lot going on right now, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back to writing. There will definitely be more parts, but not this week. I also have two oneshots saved that might go online this week, so don’t be surprised if you see them.

I'd be happy about some feedback and just a reminder to you, I have my requests open, so feel free sending some of your ideas! :)

Warnings: tiny bit of fluff and some swearing here and there

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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Returning to New York felt like waking up from a beautiful dream I never wanted to end. Sydney had been a paradise - sunshine, the salty breeze from the ocean, and Hugh. God, Hugh. We couldn't keep our hands off each other, behaving like love-drunk teenagers. Whether it was our sunset strolls by the harbor or cozy nights in, wrapped in blankets, we found ourselves growing closer every day. There was something magical about that time - like we were in a world of our own, free from distractions.

Hugh would sometimes visit his family, leaving me to explore Sydney on my own. I’d walk through the city, admiring the sights, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. But no matter where I went, I was always thinking about him. It wasn’t long before I’d be back at his place, sharing stories of my solo adventures while he teased me with that wicked smile.

Of course, the paparazzi had a field day. Every moment seemed to be caught on camera - whether we were laughing together at the beach, wandering the streets hand in hand, or lounging in the park. There were endless photos of us everywhere, but I didn't mind. Honestly, I found it kind of funny how we had become some sort of internet sensation. I had even started posting more pictures of Hugh on my socials - candid shots of him with funny, flirty captions. The fans ate it up, especially when I started liking and commenting on their fan edits of Hugh. They said I was fangirling hard, and maybe I was, but could you blame me? The man is perfect.

The hate we used to get was slowly dying down, too. People were starting to root for us. It felt good.

Today, though, was on a whole new level of fun. We were shooting a "Thirst Tweets" video, and it was as chaotic as you'd imagine. The energy in the studio was electric as we settled into the plush chairs, both of us trying to stifle our giggles before the chaos of "Thirst Tweets" began. I glanced over at Hugh, who looked far too calm for what was about to go down, his long fingers tapping lightly on his knee, his face carrying that familiar smirk that always made my heart race. It was like he knew exactly what was coming and how I’d react.

The first tweet was mine to read. I grabbed the small card from the pile and cleared my throat dramatically. “Okay, here we go…” I scanned the text quickly before bursting into laughter. “Oh my God, okay. ‘I would let y/n punch me in the face just to say I’ve been touched by perfection.’ ” I couldn’t help it - I snorted.

Hugh chuckled beside me, shaking his head. “We’re starting off strong, aren’t we?” he teased.

I leaned over, nudging him with my shoulder. “What can I say? I have violent fans.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Perfection though? Can’t argue with that." he said, giving me a wink that made my face heat up.

It was Hugh’s turn next. He grabbed his card, took a quick glance, and then raised an eyebrow at me. “Alright, here’s a good one. ‘I’d like to officially announce that Hugh’s arms should be declared a public service. Like, those things could end world hunger. Use them for good, sir.’ "

I let out a loud laugh, slapping my knee. “See, this is what I’m saying! They should be protected. Maybe insured.”

He flexed a little - just enough to make me roll my eyes - and grinned. “I’ll take it under consideration.” he joked. The crew behind the camera was already in stitches, but I could tell this was just the beginning.

The next tweet was handed again to Hugh, and he gave it a quick scan before bursting into laughter. "Oh, this one's good. 'Hugh, you can call me baby girl and tell me to sit down, and I would happily obey for the rest of my life.' "

I raised an eyebrow, trying to hold in my laughter. "I mean.. you do have that commanding presence."

He turned to me with a devilish grin, his voice deep and teasing. "You think I should try it out, love? Call you baby girl and see what happens?"

I immediately blushed, my laughter betraying how flustered I was. "Oh no, let's not give the fans more material!"

He chuckled, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Too late, baby."

He took the card with a dramatic flourish, his eyes quickly scanning it before he burst out laughing, almost choking on his words. “Oh no, this one’s for you, love. ‘Y/n really out here fangirling over Hugh like the rest of us. She’s one of us now.’ ”

I groaned, though I couldn’t hide my smile. "Listen, I am not fangirling!" I protested weakly, but Hugh gave me a look that said he didn’t believe a word of it.

"Oh, you totally are!" he teased, nudging me playfully. “You’re in deep.”

I shot back with a grin. “Okay, maybe I’m a little obsessed with you. Can you blame me?”

The crew behind the camera was losing it by now, and I could hear some of them whispering amongst themselves, probably trying to stifle their own laughter. But we were just getting started.

I grabbed another card, still grinning. "Hugh could choke me with his biceps, and I'd die happy."

Hugh started laughing again, clearly enjoying himself. "There's a lot of love for my arms in this, isn't there?"

I looked at him, pretending to be serious. "I mean, have you seen your arms?"

He flexed again, playing it up for the camera. "I guess I have no choice but to deliver." I snorted loudly and leaned against him while laughing and hiding my face behind my right hand.

Hugh took the next tweet, shaking his head in amusement. “Alright, here’s a spicy one. ‘Hugh, please, just throw me against a wall. Like, I’m begging you.’” He read it in such a deadpan tone that I nearly fell out of my chair laughing.

He raised an eyebrow at me as I tried to compose myself. “Well?”

I fanned myself dramatically. “That’s a strong request, but relatable."

Hugh opened his mouth to say something but instead snorted with laughter and shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

I picked up the next card, already giggling before I even read it aloud. " 'Y/n’s laugh could cure my depression, I swear. She could rob a bank and I’d still be like, wow, what a cute laugh!' "

Hugh looked over at me, grinning. “See? You do have a cute laugh.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool even though my cheeks were burning. “I mean, if it works for bank robberies, maybe I should test it out.”

He gave me a look, smirking. “I’m not bailing you out.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to." I replied, laughing. “I’d just charm my way out of it.”

I grabbed the next card from the pile, glancing over at Hugh before reading it aloud. "Y/n, how do I sign up to be your sugar baby? I don't need much - just a little attention and maybe to sleep on Hugh's abs as a pillow."

Hugh let out a loud laugh, his eyes widening. "My abs, huh?" He leaned back, pretending to flex for a moment before winking at the camera. "I didn't realize they had so many applications."

I rolled my eyes playfully, unable to hide my grin. "I mean, you have to admit, they're not wrong. Those abs could solve a lot of problems."

He smirked, leaning in closer to me, his voice dropping a bit. "Is that what you think about every time you cuddle me, baby? Using me as your personal pillow?"

I nudged him, trying not to laugh. "What can I say? I'm resourceful."

The next few tweets were just as wild, some downright inappropriate but in a way that had us both cracking up. Hugh read a particularly bold one aloud: " 'Hugh in that leather jacket… sir, I’m on my knees. What do I need to do to get you to ruin my life?' " He paused, glancing over at me with a devilish grin. “What do they need to do?”

I covered my face, laughing into my hands. “Oh God. This is escalating so much!”

He looked at the camera and lowering his voice. “Maybe just say ‘please?’ ”

The crew burst out laughing again, and I could see the camera shaking slightly as the person filming struggled to keep it steady. By this point, even the sound guy was wiping away tears of laughter.

Hugh grabbed the next tweet from the pile, his eyes quickly scanning it before a sly grin spread across his face.

"Okay," he began, in that rich voice that could melt butter, "Here’s a fun one: ‘Hugh Jackman could breathe in my direction, and I’d immediately drop to my knees, ready to serve.’"

I let out an involuntary snort, burying my face in my hands. "Oh my!" I gasped between fits of giggles. "They went straight for it!"

Hugh, trying to maintain composure, turned toward the camera with a half smile. "Well, I appreciate the enthusiasm." he said, and then turned to me. "Is that something I should be adding to my skill set?"

I swatted his arm playfully, still laughing. "Please, let’s not turn this into a live demonstration."

Hugh chuckled and nodded towards the camera. “Fair enough. But hey, I’m flattered."

I grabbed the next tweet, scanning it quickly and feeling my face heat up even more. "Oh, this one’s good. ‘Y/n’s legs are so long, they could wrap around me twice, and I’d happily suffocate.’"

Hugh let out a low whistle, his eyes flicking down to my legs and back up to my face with a teasing grin. "I mean, they’re not wrong." he quipped, making the entire crew laugh again.

I gave him a playful serious look. "Careful, you might encourage more of this behavior."

He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Too late."

I passed the next tweet to him, still trying to suppress my laughter. Hugh's eyebrows shot up when he read it. “Oh, wow, okay. ‘Hugh could literally break me in half, and I’d say thank you.’” He paused, a devilish grin creeping onto his face as he looked up at me. “I’m sensing a theme here.”

The crew behind the camera was howling at this point again, and I could barely breathe through the laughter. "I mean… who wouldn't be thankful?" I teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

Hugh laughed, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. "Should I be concerned for you people, or…?”

"Concerned, maybe. Grateful, definitely,” I replied, still giggling.

He handed me the next card, his smirk widening. “Your turn. Let’s see if it gets wilder.”

I took the card and immediately had to press my lips together to keep from bursting out laughing. “Oh God, here we go again… ‘Y/n could ruin my life, and I’d thank her by paying her rent for the rest of the year.’ ”

Hugh’s laugh boomed across the room, his head falling back as he tried to catch his breath. “Well, if you’re ever looking for a side hustle…”

I gave him a playful nudge. "Hey, rent’s expensive in New York. I might just take them up on that."

He wiped away a tear of laughter, still grinning. “You’d definitely have no shortage of offers.”

Another tweet landed in Hugh’s hands, and he gave it a quick read before raising an eyebrow at me. “Oh jeez, we’re diving straight into the deep end now. ‘Hugh Jackman’s voice is so hot, I’d let him read the phone book to me while I climax.’”

My jaw dropped. "NO." I immediately covered my face with my hands, laughing so hard. I would lie, if I'd say my body doesn't hurt of laughter by now.

Hugh, ever the professional, barely flinched. He just gave the camera a deadpan look. “The phone book? Really? That’s a bit outdated, but… hey, I’m here for it.”

I peeked at him from behind my hands, still laughing uncontrollably. “You’re not gonna let that one go, are you?”

He winked at me, his voice dropping an octave. “If that’s what the people want, who am I to deny them?”

I playfully shoved him, still blushing furiously, but loving every second of the ridiculousness. “We need to talk about boundaries later." I joked.

He shot me a grin. “Boundaries? What are those?”

I took a deep breath, composing myself enough to grab the next tweet. The second I read it, I was gone again. “Oh, this one’s golden. ‘Y/n, I will pay you $1,000 to sit on my face. I don’t even need to breathe. Just consider it.’”

Hugh burst out laughing, clutching his chest and wiping tears from his eyes. “A thousand dollars? Only? That’s a bargain!”

I covered my face again, my shoulders shaking with laughter. “This is officially out of control.”

Hugh leaned in closer, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Come on. You’re underselling yourself. You’re worth at least $10,000.”

I laughed so hard I almost fell off my chair. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, babe.”

By this point, the crew behind the cameras was barely keeping it together. The laughter was contagious, and it felt like the entire room was on the verge of tears from how absurd the tweets were getting.

Hugh, still grinning, took the next card, glancing at it before giving me a cheeky look. "Alright, last one for me. ‘Hugh, you could crush me between your thighs, and I’d die a happy person.’”

I dissolved into laughter again, leaning back in my chair. "See, this is what I’ve been saying!" I managed between giggles.

Hugh turned to the camera, looking far too amused. “I’m sensing a lot of… very creative fans.”

I wiped away tears of laughter, still grinning. “Creative is one word for it.”

With that, the video wrapped up, and the crew finally stopped laughing long enough to give us a round of applause. Hugh’s charm and my endless giggling made for the perfect combination, and I could tell this video was going to go viral the second it dropped.

One of the cameramen approached us, grinning. “I’ve been doing this for years, and that was easily the funniest shoot I’ve ever been a part of.”

Hugh smiled, thanking him, while I nodded in agreement. “That was insane!” I said, still feeling the buzz of excitement. “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard.”

After the shoot, we headed back to Hugh’s place to get ready for dinner. Ryan and Blake were coming over with their kids and dogs, and Hugh was in charge of cooking, much to his delight. He loved being in the kitchen, and it was one of those little things about him that always made me swoon.

While he started prepping in the kitchen, I disappeared into the bathroom to get ready. I slipped into something simple but nice, touching up my makeup before making my way back to Hugh. He had his back turned, fully focused on whatever he was chopping up, so I tiptoed up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning my head against his back.

He jumped, clearly startled, but then relaxed into my embrace. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!" he chuckled, setting down the knife.

I grinned, squeezing him tighter. "Sorry, couldn’t resist." My hands slid over his chest as I pressed closer. "You look ridiculously good in that shirt, by the way."

He glanced down at himself - just a casual button up and jeans - but it worked for him in a way that made my heart race. “Oh yeah?” he asked, turning his head slightly to look at me with a playful smirk.

“Yeah. Like.. annoyingly good." I teased, letting my fingers linger on the fabric. “Distractingly good. It's kind of a problem.”

He turned fully then, wrapping his arms around my waist, and leaned in close, his voice low. “Maybe we should skip dinner then?"

I bit my lip, laughing softly as I pushed against his chest. "Nice try. We’re not blowing off dinner with Blake and Ryan. You know they’d never let us hear the end of it."

Before we could get any further into our flirt, the doorbell rang, and we both groaned. The Reynolds were right on time, of course.

With one last grin at each other, we reluctantly pulled apart. Hugh grabbed a towel to wipe his hands before we made our way to the door. When we opened it, we were greeted by a whirlwind of chaos - Ryan with the kids and Blake holding onto the dogs. It was loud and warm, the kind of energy that made you feel instantly at home.

Blake gave me a tight hug while Ryan and Hugh exchanged their usual friendly banter. We all gathered in the dining room, Hugh finishing up in the kitchen while Blake and I set the table, chatting and laughing about everything and nothing.

Dinner was filled with easy conversation, laughter, and the occasional bark from the dogs. Hugh caught my eye from across the table more than once, and each time, I couldn’t help but smile. This was our life now - full of love, friends, and shared moments that felt like they could last forever.

And honestly? I wouldn’t change a thing.

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1

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[waterloggedsoliloquy]

mutual 1: sorry the update for my webcomic this week is a bit late! i really had to rush it so it prolly looks really sloppy lol [some of the most sophisticated comic art ive ever seen]

mutual 2: call me uterine lining the way astarions cervix got me bleeding profusely

mutual 3: do you think nanowrimo will give me a posthumous pity publishing deal if i mention it in my suicide note

mutual 4: okay fine i finally started revolutionary girl utena

mutual 5: does columbo know the service he did for butch lesbians. for all of us

mutual 6: wish you were here [blurry picture set of conifer woods in early autumn evening, taken as if frantically running down a winding trail]

mutual 4: im pretty hardy i dont need the trigger list but thanks for looking out for me guys

mutual 7: good morning lovelies another day the wizard tried to best me and another day i successfully locked him in the spare bathroom lol hope u like drinking shampoo fucker

mutual 8: here is a zip of every yuri manga scan i have and here is a backup in case i get dcma'd. the himejoshi lifestyle will never die

mutual 9: i wish i could go back in time to the shinzo abe assassination and ask to hold the doohickey

mutual 10: here's my essay on how wanting to be loved is the same as wanting to be eaten. three paragraphs in you'll find out that this is 100% tied to an obscure beauty and the beast manga i've been reading lately and how much i want to fuck the beast

mutual 4: oh thats why there was the trigger list.

mutual 11: YOU CAN'T LOCK ME IN THIS BATHROOM FOREVER

mutual 12: why do i have to defend my thesis to people i dont even respect. im not dickriding you just give me the degree

mutual 13: its just me and this scab ive picked into my scalp against the world

mutual 14: my little dragon got glazed and is ready to go into the kiln! everyone wish him good luck!

mutual 3: nvm i am a beautiful genius. perhaps the most beautiful genius of all

mutual 15: i think we should give david lynch rpgmaker and whatever happens happens

mutual 16: kpeyboaatrds brpokem gpuys

mutual 17: also heres my work in progress glossary of mixtec words! i still have a long way to go but i love being able to preserve my roots even in this small way

mutual 4: i just finished the black rose arc. question: what

mutual 18: i need emet-selch to be my wife

mutual 19: i need glados to be my husband

mutual 20: visited the ocean today!!! <3 beach pics!!! there is a darkness growing within me

mutual 21: the forms for my legal name change came in. pls vote in this poll of what my middle name should be: Dill Pickle (Dickle for short), Optimus Prime, Tumblr User Gorgonicteratologist, Smeve

mutual 22: just finished my 100th book of the year! this weeks read was the uses of enchantment by the psychologist bruno bettelheim,

mutual 23: reeses penis butter cups lol

mutual 4: i need to hunt akio for sport

mutual 24: oouugghhrgh. hot. dog.

mutual 25: your favorite character or fictional other would want you to brush your teeth and wash your face so you're well rested and wake up feeling refreshed! make them proud!

mutual 26: being a delivery driver isnt the worst job ive ever had but i do keep wondering what itd be like to drive off into the wild blue yonder one day and not come back

mutual 27: weird dog? [phone picture of critically endangered stork]

mutual 28: i think the two phone line polls in front of my house are having a lovers tryst. no way to prove it tho

mutual 4: WHAT

mutual 29: while you bitches are balduring your gates or finalling those fantasies im doing what a REAL gamer does. playing a b tier rpg that came out in 2004 for the 18th time

mutual 30: ^ real. hamtaro ham ham heartbreak is a masterpiece of interactive art. im not even going to call it a video game at this point

mutual 4: THAT'S HOW IT ENDS?! ANTHY?

mutual 31: can you help me pick which drawing looks better: 34% overlay or 36% soft light?

mutual 32: new video essay out. its called disability in video game narratives: final fantasy 14's most reliable fault. i churned the script out over an all-nighter and my mic crapped out halfway through but by god i did it

mutual 33: my new zine bundle is out! if you buy it you also get a discount on all my game jam games! i really cant wait for you to play them!

mutual 4: yall should watch revolutionary girl utena

[russellsppttemplates]

We always find a way (Mick Schumacher)

Parents of three, Mick and Y/N take some time for themselves and enjoy a kid-free holiday

Note: english is not my first language. I'm a sucker for dad!driver and I love a good holiday of just enjoying the peace and quiet.

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: allusions to smut

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Here you have your key cards for access to all of the services, contacts in case you need any clarification and the services numbers, like room service, spa and activities will be in the coffee table of your living room", the receptionist said as he covered all the points he had to before letting you go and enjoy your holiday.

The idea came from Corinna: a week away, no kids so you and Mick could go on a romantic vacation and reconnect. So you took the opportunity, having chosen a relaxing place that allowed you to go to the beach and also hike, two of your favourite activities.

For the rest of the day, you explored the ground and ended up having an early room service dinner as all the travelling tired you out.

The next morning, however, Mick woke you up with gentle kisses along your neck, roaming hands under your shirt letting you know exactly what he wanted, "there's no risk of little eyes showing up here", he smirked, his hand playing with the hem of your underwear as you professed your love to eachother for the rest of the morning.

"How about we spend the afternoon by the beach? I'm still pretty tired and, although I love to see you like this, you'll need some swimwear, which covers just enough for me to keep loving on you", your husband kissed your cheek, squeezing your hand laced in his as you nodded, "we'll need to get up though, so you might loose the tight hug for a little bit", you teased, "or we could take it to the shower, liebling, I like that idea far better".

When you arrived at the beach, you kindly told the waiter what you would have for lunch, scanning your card and thanking her as she noted that she would bring the plates to you as soon as they were ready.

"Come here, pale man, you need some sunscreen", you ushered Mick, having him sit in front of you in the sunlounger, legs thrown to each side as you sat criss cross in front of him after you did his back, continuing to spread and rub the cream on his torso. "Close your eyes for me, please", you whispered, squeezing the tube so some face sunscreen would be deposited in your fingers, dabbing it on his face, "you're so handsome, Mick", you said, blush spreading on his cheeks and a small smile appearing on his lips, "absolutely gorgeous", you breathed out after you touched his cheek for the last time.

His blue eyes looked at you immediately as they opened, "can I do yours now?", he said, kissing your lips as he grabbed the spray bottle, starting on your legs and going up to your tummy, his hands lovingly caressing the skin and kissing all the way up to your chest, the pattern slowing down as he reached your sternum before divering to your clavicles and shoulders, "cold in this heat, liebling?", he asked teasingly as he noticed the goosebumps erupt on your skin.

You never understood how he still had that affect on you years and years later of dating, but you had to admit you wouldn't want it any other way.

"Are we done? The waves are slow and I'd really like to have a dip", you smiled, running away from him and towards the water when he put the cap on the bottle. He met you in the water not long after, diving in closer to you hand grabbing your hips as he came up, lacing your legs around his waist as you brushed his wet hair, "I love you, Y/N Schumacher", he said as he kissed your lips, smirking as he spun you around, your shriek music to his ears as it developed to you splashing him with water, sure that if anyone else was paying attention to you, the delight was perceptible miles away.

.

"Look, they have board games!", you squealed, grabbing your favourites from the selection you had in the living room and bringing them to the table, "which one first? Scrabble, Monopoly or Trivia Pursuit?", you questioned.

"I'm feeling like some Trivia Pursuit, I'm feeling confident", Mick smiled, opening the box and sitting in front of you.

"How do you know all of these things? I consider myself a smart person and I don't know half of these!", Mick said as you kept collecting slices for your cake as you liked to call it, "Rora is always asking me random things and I have to look them up to answer her", you blushed, admitting that it wasn't just a particular interest in geology.

"I always know when she asks me, no need to go to the internet", Mick stuck his tongue out at you, playfully teasing you as he closed the board, getting up and coming closer to you, "but that's just because I know all the things, like I know that, right now, that sofa would look incredible with you in it, me kissing you here", he said as he kissed your neck, "and here", he moved closer to your lips.

.

"Through here, liebling", Mick said as he pushed a rock out of the way, not wanting any of the other hikers to stumbled on it, "thanks", you kissed his cheek, holding his hand as you walked on the trail.

In addition to the water activities, the hotel also provided a guide with the best hikes around the island, having you and Mick choose one and ensure you'd be able to go on your own, wanting to enjoy the privacy of it while in nature.

Reaching the stop for the first section, Mick noticed some monkey bars, probably intended for older kids, prompting him to drop the backpack on the picnic table and call your name as you took a sip of water.

Testing the stability, Mick balanced himself between the bars, doing all sorts of tricks he could do while you snapped a picture, wanting to remember this moment forever.

"C'mon, I'll help you do it!", he cheered, clapping his hands and holding them out so he could hold you by your hips, "Mick, I don't have that much upper body strength", you chuckled at his hope. While you kept yourself active, you weren't lifting so much weight on your upper body, so holding yourself steady on the bars was not something you could do on your own.

Despite your insistence, Mick's hands held your hips safely, helping you move along the bars and handles, "see? I knew you could do it!", he cheered as you wiped your hands on yours shorts, "you held me the entire time, that was barely my effort there", you brushed it off, "I'll always hold you and make sure you never fall", he kissed the top of your head, not caring about how sweaty it was.

"Let's take a picture so we can send to your mother, I bet the kids will love it", you said, grabbing your phone and taking a selfie. Putting it back in your backpack, you carried on, finding a greener path to continue on.

Along the path, you found two yellow flowers, picking them out and, when you and Mick got to the second stop, about halfway of the whole hike, you put one behind of Mick's ear and one behind your own, "beautiful", he said, caressing your cheek and stealing a kiss, "not as handsome as you".

.

"Is that the last layer?", you asked Mick, looking at the lasagna on the tray, "yes, now you just put the cheese and then it goes in the oven", your husband checked with you, holding the tray when you were finished and leaving it to cook.

For tonight's plan, you and Mick decided to stay in and cook for dinner together, wanting to enjoy the small task without rushing and sipping on wine while dressed in comfortable clothing, meaning your husband had shorts in with a t-shirt and you only in one of his long linen shirts and underwear. Mick's phone was playing music on the speaker system, some playlist he had when you recognised the chords, "it's our first dance song", he whispered, wiping his hands on the kitchen towell before pulling you to him, "would you do me the honour of accompanying me in this dance?", he asked, kissing your wedding band and engagement ring, "yes, I will", you smiled, allowing him to push you flush to his chest, slowdancing in the kitchen with your head in his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"Everyday I thank my lucky starts that you're my wife, that you're the mother of our children, human and canine children", he broke the silence, "and I never want to loose this. Dancing in the kitchen, giggles over stupid jokes, caressing eachother up like we're horny teenagers, all of it, I want all of this to always be present. I want to have old people sex with you, go on walks when we're retired and just enjoying the days, no other responsibility than to love eachother and keep our family safe", he confessed kissing the top of your head.

"Even when my hip gives out and we have to rearrange positions?", you joked, going along with the joke you usually make about having a bad hip and the fact that it will only get worse as you get older, "we'll find ways to do it that doesn't bother your hip, liebling. Trust me, we will find a way".

.

"We'll be home tomorrow, guys! How are Angie and Hazel? Are they behaving well for you, Corinna?", you asked your mother in-law, "they are! I'm thinking they might want to stay over more often. Aurora said you only give them one treat each, but we've been generous, haven't we guys?", she said out loud.

"Mama! Angie gets two, sometimes three treats! And we do too, right Oma?", Sebastian said, smiling as he saw you on the screen, "we miss you, mama and papa!", they said before you dialled off the call.

You put the phone on the coffee table, cuddling back up to your husband's chest, "When your mother suggested this for us to reconnect, I thought 'why would we need to reconnect?', it just seemed silly. We're married, we have three kids, there's no need to reconnect, we never lost connection", you began, drawing shapes on your husband's chest, "but now I get what she meant, at least I think I do. We get so caught up in the routine of waking up, get the kids ready, work, pick up the kids, kids' clubs and activities, then back home for homework, dinner, story time and sleep, and then do it all again. And I love that our life is like that, that we have three beautiful, kind and healthy children, and two dogs, and jobs we love. But being here with you, just going with what the day brings, loving on you, it really made me think about that", you finished, not sure where you were going but needing to get it out of your chest.

"I know what you mean, I've felt the same", he kissed the top of your head, "I love you, and I know you know I do, but the day to day rush doesn't let us express it too much just to eachother, even if the small things we do, and mundane as they are, are a sign of affection and love", Mick squeezed you against his chest.

"We should do something like date night every week? We used to do that when we didn't have Seb yet and it was nice, then three kids became a lot to juggle. Now Harriet is grown up enough, and so are Aurora and Sebastian, so we could get away with being gone for a few hours each week. How does that sound?", you wondered, "we have a deal, liebling", he smiled, kissing your cheek, "but I must admit I can't wait to get back to them, maybe we can all have a date in the park?".

[l-lend]

Alright, back again. Thank you so much for your patience @moodymisty. Thankfully the car ride to the beach was long. I hope you enjoy a UniversityAU meet cute.

Edit: forgot to add my taglist. Sorry folks lol

@locitapurplepink, @writing-positivelyexisting, @burningfieldof-clover, @rain-on-kamino, @padawancat97

You filed out with your fellow undergrads as your last class for the afternoon let out. the professor's voice offering mention of the end of the first sprint. You traversed amongst the student body's current before veering off to a corridor. The current loosening its grasp the closer you ventured toward the sanctuary of paper and ink.

The buzzing tension of the university campus fading into the background as soon as you crossed the library's threshold. Time seemed to stand still here. Allowing students a temporary respite from the hustle and bustle of dashing from class to class.

While you often sought out the library's plush arm chairs for a lunch hour reading binge, you instead took to the maze of literature and shelving on a mission. Your eyes scanning over the book spines as if it were an inspection. There was good news and bad news.

Good news: you found your quarry with relative ease. Bad news: the universe had found it it fit to to be out of reach as part of its long running joke. You were living in a tall person world, but unfortunately you were lacking in the height department.

You puffed out your cheeks as you sighed. Not a step ladder in sight. Short people problems require short people solutions, so you eyed up a nearby table. The headphone clad co-ed wouldn't mind if you barrowed an empty chair, right?

Your backpack met the floor with a gentle thud. Your hands soon grasped the worn wood as you muscled the commandeered chair against the bookshelf. A silent prayer to the karma gods left your mind as you placed a foot onto the chair followed by the other. So far so good.

Your knees wobbled as you straightened up to stand. A curse leaving your lips. The pads of your middle and ring fingers barely gracing the spine. Your kingdom for just a few more inches. Teeth captured your bottom lip as you tempted fate. One foot leaving your platform as you attempted to stretch towards your prize.

Whether it was the chair finally giving out after its years of service or your own shaky unsteadiness, did not matter as you entered free fall with a yelp. Your eyes pinched closed, bracing for impact...which was still firm, yet had more give than the floor. And the library floors certainly did not smell of sandalwood.

“You alright?”

A pair of eyes met yours. A scar along the side of his face with its tendrils inching towards the center.

You nodded, still taking in the sheer size of his frame. His hands still enveloping your shoulders.

“Took a bit of a tumble there. Should be careful about climbing up on things.”

“Yeah, I was just..”

Your eyes flicked back to the book still in its place, silently mocking.

“Oh,” He answered following your line of sight, “Want some help?”

The wave of heat washing over you was just delayed embarrassment from the fall...hopefully. Unable to find the words, you nodded once more. His answering smile doing nothing to ease your hammering heart rate.

Once you were set back on your own two feet, your good Samaritan reached up grasping the book you pointed out to him. Your eyes straying to observe the way the muscles of his back rippled as he reached up. If you were a pre-med, you could probably use him as a way to memorize muscle groups.

Your concentration broken when he turned to you, book in hand. His eyes seemed to scan over the title before offering it out.

“Must be pretty smart if you're looking at programming.”

You huffed a laugh, “Hope so, although my class workload has me questioning.”

His free hand reached back to cradle his neck, “It's not my strength, but my brother does a lot of it.”

It may have been a trick of the fluorescent lights, but you swore there was the slightest hint of pink dusting his cheeks.

“That would be great to pick someone's brain,” You gushed, “but...maybe I could..you know thank you.”

Your fingers brushed against his as you grabbed up the offered object.

“There's this little dive joint just off campus.” You explained, taking his budding grin as a yes.

As you two set off towards the librarian's counter, you offered your name.

“Wrecker.” He answered, adjusting his stride to keep pace.

[senoritafish]

Mike's been a friend of mine since high school, and I can vouch for him. He's been a professional television and screenplay writer and researcher for years, but the gig economy is doing him dirty recently. If you can make use of his services or give him a bit of help, it would be much appreciated. I'm broke myself, at least for another week, so I'm Signal boosting.

(Links to services are in the comments of his post)

Folks,

A writing assignment and a couple other gigs evaporated on me, and I'm desperately in need of $550 to stave off disaster this month. I'm currently trying to find some form of full time clerical, order desk, or editorial work and would appreciate any likely leads or suggestions.

If you just want to help out or make an advance payment on future services, my Venmo ID is @Michael-Dobkins, and the last 4 digits of my phone is 8090. Payments can also be made securely with most major credit cards directly through PayPal. Just click on paypal.me/MichaelDobkins to go to PayPal.

(links to his services below cut if Facebook doesn't work for you)

Thanks for reading...

STORY CONSULTING

I'm a produced television writer with thirty years of experience. If you're stuck on your screenplay or need guidance going into your next draft, I can provide comprehensive guidance and advice that will help you tell the story you want to tell.

My current fee is $450, but I'm charging only $225 until 6/3. You can find the full details of my consulting process is and how it can help you at my web site:

https://www.dobkins.net

HISTORICAL RESEARCHER

For more than fourteen years, I've been running THIS DATE IN SEAL BEACH HISTORY, a local history blog, that takes a deep dive in my hometown's past through old photos, stories, historical facts, and obscure tidbits hidden in old newspaper archives. I can apply these same skills and attention to your family or historical questions.

Normally, I charge $100 for an initial two hours research and newspaper clippings (usually that sufficient for most questions), but this month I'm offering a flat $25 fee for one hour and a $45 for two hours.

You can see Seal Beach-centric versions of what I can do for you at the blog here:

https://sbfoundersday.wordpress.com

FAMILY PHOTO AND HISTORICAL DOCUMENT SCANNING

I will travel to your home in the Long Beach and Orange County with my computer and scanner and scan your vintage family and historical documents at high resolution. You'll get a copy of the raw image files that day after the scanning is complete (usually on an USB thumb drive).

I will then process the images and add captions based the dates, names, locations, and other information that you provide for each photo or document during the appointment. I will then make those processed files available in an online password protected folder for you to download. This usually take 7-10 days after the initial scanning appointment.

400 Photos/documents $100

300 Photos/documents $ 90

200 Photos/documents $ 70

100 Photos/documents $ 50

A 64 GB USB thumb drive - $15

[steamedbeefs]

Chapter 1 - The Town of Drake's Cove

In the realm of Virelia, signs of summer began to bless the lands, from the flat grasslands that rolled as far as the eye could see to the snow-capped peaks of the Northern Mountains and every place in between. It was in the Dragon’s Woods in particular that summer was in full swing, with its abundance of colourful wild flowers popping up amongst the thick, green grass, with butterflies and busy honey bees pollinating them, filling the air with their buzzing. A warm breeze swayed the mighty oak trees of the forest, the sun’s bright rays filtering down through the leaves, casting patterns of light and shadow on the ground.

Despite the fact that his travelling companions had all peeled off their leather armour and cloaks, made damp by sweat by the summer heat, the elderly Firbolg shuddered, goosebumps exploding on his frail skin. He shrugged his thick cloak over his shoulders, hoping that the earth-colour wool would help keep the chill out of his old bones. However, he pushed on, leading his team of sell-swords down the decades-old beaten path using his equally old map clasped in his large hand. Every few minutes, the Firbolg glanced down at the map, his shaggy, wool-like fur on top of his head hanging down over his eyes as he scanned the crumpled paper.

“Aye,” he grunted, stuffing the map back into his cloak’s pocket, taking steady strides down the road, using his staff as a walking stick. “No more than another few more leagues until we reach town, younglings.”

Falling into step next to the Firbolg, his Halfling hireling tucked a loose curl of her auburn hair behind a long, pointed ear, giving him a quizzical look.

“Are you sure, Captain Skillet?” She asked him, glancing down at his pocket where the map was unceremoniously crumpled inside, fighting the urge to snatch it and read it herself. “You said that it was only a couple of leagues away when we broke camp at dawn, and now it’s lunchtime and you’re saying the same thing again. We’ve been walking for hours and we still haven’t seen any signs of Drake’s Cove yet. Are you sure we’re not lost, sir?”

The other two hirelings, a Triton with a tangle of navy curls on his head and eyes that glittered like gold and a Goblin with a mischievous smile and messy black hair that was cut hastily, named Nalu and Bullet respectively, fell behind their Captain and their Halfling companion. They listened intently to their conversation, as Skillet had been known to get the adventurers lost from time to time, and they both were eager to finally get to the village he was leading them to and get off their aching feet. 

The Firbolg only just waved the girl off, chuckling to himself. “I know these woods like the back of my hand, Finch Waveborne,” Skillet had said to her, not slowing down his pace as he spoke over his shoulder. “This forest is where I used to play when I was just a youngling, not much younger than you three are now. The reason I am so adamant to get to Drake’s Cove, the town we are going to be selling our services to next, is because it used to be my home. And, here we are…”

With a flourish of his hand, the Dragon’s Woods began to thin around the adventures, and signs of civilization began to appear. 

Drake’s Cove was an old fishing village, weathered by age and the sea surrounding it. Farmlands and small houses made of river stone and thick logs of oak wood dotted the land, their thatched roofs rustling in the wind. The homes were sparse at first, with patches of trees and large expanses of farmland between them, but as the land rolled downwards towards the cove where the ocean lapped at the stoney shore, the houses grew closer together and the farms became smaller. One main cobblestone road ran through the main part of town, in some places covered in mud from carriages or sand from the beach, while footpaths and rotten boardwalks branched off in every direction, beating down the tall beach grass. 

Near the cove stood a large inn, with rickety wooden piers surrounding it on both sides, multiple fishing boats moored against them, bumping against the docks with soft thumps as the waves rocked them back and forth. Skillet smiled as the inn came into view through his shaggy fur, and he gestured for his young hirelings to follow him deeper into town.

Drake’s Cove was home to a variety of different races, from bulky Orcs chopping firewood or hauling water from the well at the center of town to dainty-looking Elves tending vegetable gardens and beating rugs on lines with large beaters, each one living together in peace. There was even a Dragonborne living in town from what Bullet could see, and he was exiting the bakery with an arm’s full of fresh savoury breads and sweet sticky buns. Each one raised a hand or gave a small smile in greet as the adventurers past, calling out their ‘good afternoon’s and ‘nice to see you’s to the Firbolg leading the three younglings behind him. Children played in the middle of the road, entertaining themselves by playing pretend with one another, large dogs chasing behind them. 

Approaching the inn, the adventurers could see that it was two floors tall, with a high roof made of slate tiles, the only building like it in the whole town. The first floor of the inn was built from smooth river rocks, and the second was made of dark-stained oak logs, with large windows evenly spaced throughout. Even though it was summer, the large chimney billowed out thick, white smoke. A sign hanging from a metal bracket above the large double doors named the inn ‘The Salty Drake’.

Skillet sighed happily when he led the young hirelings to the front doors of the inn, reaching up with one large hand to bat at the sign, making it swing back and forth on the bracket, squeaking sharply. “This here is ‘The Salty Drake’, the best inn this side of the Dragon’s Woods. During my younger years, I spent many a night here after returning from my adventures, draining the poor barkeep of his ale.” Skillet chuckled to himself as he reminisced, the three younglings behind him hanging onto every word. It was not often that their Captain shared any information about his past, so learning about his old stomping grounds excited them greatly. Snapping the three back to reality, the Firbolg gestured to the door. “I know the barkeep well, as he is one of my very best friends. We’ll be able to get a cheap steading here as we work, and be able to fill our bellies with his cooking.”

With a wink as he promised the hirelings a comfortable bed to sleep in and a hot meal, Skillet pushed open one of the large doors and wandered inside, the three sharing an excited look before following their Captain inside. 

The inn opened up into a grand common room, which was spacious and comfortable, with a low ceiling and a sitting area around a large stone fireplace that stretched almost half the length of the room, the flame dancing upon the glowing logs. At the back-end of the common room stood a bar with many tables and chairs surrounding it, each table hosting a patron or two as they sipped from their goblets of cold ale or spiced mead shamelessly in the middle of the day. A kitchen could be found behind the bar, with smells of cooking meats and baking bread wafted into the adventurers’ nostrils. The bar itself was clean and tidy, and an older Elven gentleman stood behind it, cleaning a goblet with a rag. He was a Wood-Elf, upon further inspection, with dark skin, long black hair tied into a tight bun on top of his head, a meticulously kept beard flecked with grey, and piercing grey eyes that have been hardened by life. 

With the sound of the front door opening and the footsteps of potential customers, the Wood-Elf looked up briefly from his work of cleaning dishes, and a wide grin split his features at the sight of the elderly Firbolg. “S-Skillet?... Is that you, old friend?” He asked, his voice stammering a little as he placed the goblet down on the bar and came around the side to approach the travellers. 

Skillet opened his arms as the Wood-Elf approached him, returning his elated smile and wrapping his arms around him, his much larger body swallowing the Elf up in his embrace. “It’s good to see you again, Thefni,” Skillet said as he pulled away, and Thefni straightened his apron, the grin that wrinkled his face never fading. 

“I… I can’t believe this… I never thought I’d ever see you again!” Thefni said, looking the Firbolg up and down as if he still couldn’t comprehend the fact that he was standing here before him. “You left so many years ago without saying goodbye. Folks were saying you went to find that great adventure you’ve always wanted, some said you were going to get yourself killed. Where did you go? What did you see? Tell me, friend. Tell me all about your travels, I want to hear every detail!”

Skillet chuckled at the Wood-Elf’s excited ramblings and patted him on the shoulder as he mounted a stool in front of the bar, letting out a small groan as he finally rested his exhausted legs. “I will, I will, old friend, I promise. Maybe tonight, over a nice cold goblet of your finest ale, hmm?” Skillet said with a chuckle in his deep, rumbling voice. “But first, I must introduce you to my hirelings. This is Nalu, Finch, and Bullet…” Skillet gestured to each adventurer respectively as he told Thefni their names, each one giving a small wave or a curt nod in greeting. “While my days of solo adventuring and sword-fighting are far behind me, I’m still travelling the lands of Virelia with my new team of sell-swords. We were wondering if you would allow us to stay here at the inn while we are in town to provide our services. We won’t be here long, mind you, not much more than a week or two at most. Just long enough until we make enough gold to last us until we get to the next town over. What do you say, old friend?”

With the explanation finished and the four adventurers looking at him expectantly, Thefni let out a loud, hearty laugh, one that made the patrons at the tables around them look up from their drinks momentarily to see what was so funny. “Did you really think you had to ask permission to stay here, Skillet? You're just as hard-headed as you were before you left all those years ago. Of course you’re welcome to stay here, for as long as you four need to. There’s plenty of empty beds and ale for you and your crew.”

Thefni then cocked his head to the side and called out across the room to the inn’s barmaid, who was serving ale to a patron that looked like they had a little too much to drink already. “Falkrunn, dear, come show our guests to their rooms, would you?”

Falkrunn was short and stout Hill Dwarf with a tanned complexion much like Thefni’s, her face covered in a splash of freckles. She wore a simple green tunic and brown breeches, and a white apron tied around her waist and her long, brown curls were pulled back in a tight braid to keep it off of the food and drink she served. She perked up when her name was called, excusing herself politely from the drunken patron and silently gesturing for the adventures to follow her upstairs to where the empty rooms for rent were. 

While the three young hirelings chased the pretty barmaid upstairs to offload their belongings and weapons, Skillet turned his attention back to the Wood-Elf, who had went back behind the bar to continue cleaning the dirty goblets. 

“Say, Thefni…” Skillet began, folding his arms on the bar as he leaned in towards his old friend. “You wouldn’t happen to have any jobs that need to be done while we’re here in town, hmm? It is the least we can do, give you a hand around the inn while we’ll be sleeping in your beds, eating your food, and drinking your ale without paying you any coin.”

Thefni laughed once more. “Come now, Skillet. You know that you’re welcome here, coin or no coin,” Thefni repeated, but now he let out a little hum as he thought about the offer he was given. “Maybe I do have something you and your crew can do, only if you don’t mind that is…”

“Anything, dearest Thefni, anything at all!” Skillet said, trying to coax Thefni’s problem out of his throat. 

“I’ve been noticing that my casks in the cellar are emptying faster than they usually do. I have even found some completely empty before I even get the chance to tap them. I believe that there might be rats in the cellar chewing open the casks, or maybe someone might be stealing the ale. Whatever it is, I needed someone to go down and investigate it. How about it, Skillet? Are you up for the task?”

“Consider it done, old friend,” Skillet smiled at the Wood-Elf, giving him a determined nod.

***

Here is chapter 1 of 'The Adventures of the Merry Men', I hope you enjoy :)

2,285 words

[theteej]

Easter is not my favourite holiday.

Easter is not my favourite holiday. Honestly, it’s never been one with treasured childhood memories. Rather, it was always the celebration most in tune with obligation, with suffering, with disappointment. Perhaps I should go back to the beginning.

 My paternal grandparents, Gentry Howard Tallie and Johnnie B. Tallie, were both born in Texas at the height of the Jim Crow era. They moved to Los Angeles as a young married couple with a one year old daughter, Pamela, in tow. I’ve never been led to believe that either of them were particularly devout, although both were certainly affiliated with Black Baptist spirituality in Texas. By the time I was born Johnnie B had been dead for a year and a half and Gentry, a towering man at nearly 6’5 with a booming voice and million watt smile to match, wasn’t a regular church goer. Neither were his children. Formal religious services occurred once a year, at the Easter sunrise service held at the Green Hills cemetery. Johnnie B was buried in half of the Tallie family plot, her presence resembling a half-filled parenthesis , a thought waiting to be completed by Gentry. It was as if the Tallie family saved all their formal interaction with the divine for that one moment, every spring morning, when the sun rose from the refineries and tangled machinery of Long Beach, the golden orb illuminating every piece of the harbor, from the oil tankers to the suspension bridges that covered our corner of the Pacific. Every year after Johnnie B’s burial in 1982, the Tallie clan in California made the pilgrimage to that immense acreage of rolling green lawns and scuffed headstones. Every year they’d join the throng of people, speaking English, Spanish, Khmer, Samoan, and a host of other tongues, sipping cheap coffee and watching the rising sun. Such was the Easter world that I was born into, one of loss and obligation.

 While my mother was a practicing Christian, and by the time I’d entered elementary school, my whole maternal branch of the family was attending a Japanese-American Baptist Church in Gardena, I knew that every Easter involved a mandatory trip to the field of the dead, to the rising sun, and to a performance for a woman I’d never met. My parents had by then divorced, and so my father had the task of picking me up and taking me the two miles to the graveside service, a task that he spectacularly failed to do every year. My father, Tyrone Sr, had been routinely violent throughout my parents’ marriage and my young life, and my mother and I knew that under no uncertain terms could we afford to be late on the off chance my wayward father chose that year to be the one he finally showed up on time to pick me up. Without fail, every year, we would rise at 4 am, get ready, change a grumpy child into the least pleasant formal clothing possible, and then huddle and wait, anxiously looking out the window as the dark night of the sky began to lighten, invariably into a sunrise and proof of my father’s inability to keep his promises. Some years we’d stand on the steps in front of our house, afraid we might miss him somehow and be treated to a show of yelling and abuse before we celebrated the resurrection of the Saviour. When my father inevitably showed up twenty or thirty minutes late, he would grab me and speed off from my mother, cursing under his breath as if somehow his failure to discipline time was my fault. I would push my nose against the car’s window, watching a waving maternal figure shrink into the distance of the cool spring morning. We then, without fail, would park and run up the steep, slippery grass of the cemetery and then awkwardly scan the hundreds of seats at the service to see my family, who’d always dutifully saved us seats. The service, in progress, would slowly swell into familiar preaching, warm carols, and then the inevitable releasing of doves across a pink streaked dawn sky, symbolizing Christ’s peace and the whole truth of the Resurrection. Once, in 1993, my father slapped me in the face in the car for his being late. Then the doves crapped on me at the end of the service. I never enjoyed Easter.

 What I did enjoy was my seeing my family. Easter meant dawn vigils for the faith and an awkward gathering around the grave of a woman I’d never met, but it also involved eating at one of the greatest relics to mid-century cuisine in the South Bay, the kitschy Parasol restaurant in Torrance, California. My cousins Shamika and Antwann (four and three years older than me, respectively) would laugh and tease each other, and make horrific combinations of lemon, salt, and cream in the water glasses. Then we’d return to my grandfather’s house and hunt for eggs in his scrabbly backyard, searching from the lemon and avocado trees, to the broken down van parked behind the house for the dyed orbs. I invariably lost. I was not good at this game, and as an only child, had no practice in beating out siblings with years of practice at outsmarting each other. I loved it anyway, even if it was the first of many times my family would deride me for my lack of any athletic prowess.

For me Easter was a constant exercise in mandatory observance. It was something we did, something we’d always done, and something unquestioned. When I turned sixteen I insisted on getting my driver’s license on my birthday, four days from Easter, so I could drive myself to the service and not wait for my father for the first time. To my intense irritation, the rest of the family didn’t feel well that year and decided not to attend—or tell me. I sat through the service, alone, in silence, surrounded by hundreds of people (and family friends from over the years), and for once, focused on the service. I listened to the hymns, I sang with the people around me, I watched the sun rise with hope in the midst of everything so clearly broken, I ducked when the shitting Jesus Pigeons flew overhead. I enjoyed it, for once. Then I met my family at a local coffee shop. Apparently, everyone felt well enough for pancakes, without the vigil and reminders of departed family.

 I drove to those holiday get togethers every year that I still lived in California. Park in the darkness. Wander up grassy slopes. Find family. Sit on blankets. Hear about deity after death. Watch the sun break like an egg yolk over the darkened sky. Visit the open parenthesis. Eat with those who share most of your genetic material. Repeat. I stopped going in 2009 as I was in graduate school in Illinois, but I was back two years later, around Easter, for a conference. Unexpectedly, I was also home to see my grandfather fall ill for the last time and to bury him. One last time the family went up the grassy slopes, this time to see the parentheses close. I said goodbye to the one paternal grandparent I knew and nodded a hello to the one I’d never met, and then went with everyone down for breakfast at a Coco’s coffee shop, the Parasol having long been torn down.

 I don’t have particularly fond memories of this Paschal Day in my life.  So many people see it as a time of renewal or overwhelming joy; I just can’t get into the emotional pastels that folk feel. I haven’t spoken to my father in years, but he occasionally sends me a Happy Easter text right on schedule, conveniently misremembering the sadness and fear that he pushed on me all those years. It will go unanswered as always. I am back home visiting less than five miles from that cemetery, but my ambivalence to the holiday will remain.  I’m glad that I have faith in something bigger than me, and a hope for fighting so much enormous injustice in a broken world. I am grateful that I believe in something bigger than death and despair. But every Easter I return to the complex ambivalences I held as a child, of family, of laughter, of obligation, and the incongruous rising of something new in a darkened sky while surrounded by tombs. At least this year, I’ll avoid the doves.

[fantasyideas1]

quotes almat

foaming at the mouth with passion and animal lust in love, mechanical excitement and falling in love, instinctively subconscious, I like every second spent with you, infinitely beautiful, deeply loving beauty of perfection, you are a pure form of erotic passion, the fire of lust in my erotic dreams, your beauty increases the degree of lust, sets fire to sperm like gasoline with passion, your pheromones are flammable, erotic hypnosis of your charms, you are a powerful via agra, you can stab a sofa with my boner, I have sperm incontinence in my pants because of you, fall in love deeply to trembling in my soul, vibrate from orgasms of love, it’s hard to breathe from admiration, deep tenderness in my soul from your beauty , juicy pleasure for my soul, an explosion of genitals, a head out of your beauty, a heart attack from an orgasm of falling in love, your beauty is like an erotic vibrator for the cells of my body, a tremor of a vibrator of excitement in love, every second with you is overloaded with passion and love, epic romance of eternity , devotion in thoughts to you, my love for you elevates me to the highest feelings of bliss, the circulation of love for you fills me with life, in the repetition mode, thoughts idolize you, jokes The guy says: I won’t go to the zoo anymore, the chimpanzee showed like she licked me, and then pointed to her vagina You've got wrinkles on your forehead like zen sand, storming on the waves The boy has seen enough action movies, he has a shooter in his head (shooters), I was also so wild and stupid now I work in the service staff Long time no see, god the years have fucked you He has a safe with a scanner for his nose, you need to put his nose and a penis made under a cast of his penis and nose into the hole, the robbers came to stick his nose into this vagina, the nose scan began, and now the penis into this hole, well, excite him like he does passed out, the police came and sees the robbers jerking off the guy to steal his money, one policeman says it reminded me of marriage with my ex, the policeman gives an interview this was the most unusual robbery case considering that the penis safe hole was just a joke Why did you lick the window of a fitness club where fitness girls train on treadmills Have you seen the new guy in our sales department, yes, for our employees, he is like a vibrator for the clitoris You have high heels, it’s like you’re learning to walk again, your nose is probably bleeding, the police stopped you because of a drunken walk, as if you were walking on a tightrope like a drunk on roller skates, a cute blush of bruises on your knees, angry that the guys seem lower , like a spire for lightning, you can see my house from above, there is probably rarefied air at your height, on the sides of your girlfriends to catch And I don't understand what unboxing a virgin means That's my beach tan, you got khaki skin like a computer desk Why don't they take me to work sniffed my armpit, grimaced, checked my breathing heavily went off scale Paranoia? Like a cobweb got on your head, but in fact there is no cobweb Honey, I have a brutal boner on your new hairstyle, my penis is foaming from the mouth from lustful rabies, don’t come bite, run, he gnaws through my pants, mad dog wants to be free, shave your head You almost got pregnant twice by her, you couldn't finish and she ended up squirting into the penis a lot, I don't know how it's possible, the doctors called you a rare phenomenon of a loser Lawyer, collector, after marriage it's the same thing, after marriage your wallet is a

Author musin almat zhumabekovich

[jiinjiinjarra]

BTS // 2017 Summer Package on Coron Island // Photobook // 2017 // Pt.10

Scan Cr. jiinjiinjarra (me)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

02.05.2017 // Day: 1 

🐹: Jimin and I made a volleyball bet that the loser shall stay on the water for 5 minutes with the unicorn tube in the ocean. I knew I could win the game but let him win in several moments, and dear, he beat me. He sent me far to the ocean while I was floating on the water. How mean.

🐰: When we just got here, it was so hot that the only thing I want was to go inside the room. Fighting against the heat at night, in this space without wifi or hotspot service, I doubt if we could have a fun time here or not. Next morning, we began the shooting after preparation half in sleep. It was still so hot, but as time went on, I got used to it and adapted to the weather. During the shooting, we played a game called "Finding Capsule in Sand". There were 13 capsules 2 of which were only the winning capsule. The winner was to receive a gift that can be only provided here. From the beginning to the end, I found nothing but sweat a lot. But I wasn't really jealous because I don't know what the prize was. We went back to the hotel for a scene to drink a cocktail after the scene on the beach. I really enjoyed the shooting. I'm looking forward to tomorrow except the weather...

03.05.2017 // Day: 2

🐹: I tried scuba-diving, snorkeling, wakeboard, water-skiing and a banana boat today. The director said that I was the only member who tried everything. I knew it. This is why I'm so tired. I saw JK riding the wakeboard and he was a monster. I should be nice to him from now on.

🐰: I woke up, had breakfast, and went back to sleep again. I was late. The members scolded me. I shall never fall asleep next time. I went to scuba dive on a boat known to be one of the fastest boat in the Philippines. Listening to the instruction, we fix the order. We waited because we were the second team. I then snorkelled because it was too boring and hot to wait long. I went really far and it was really fun. Then I missed the time to scuba dive so I couldn't do it. I found the master who gave me the instruction over there. I wanted to go talk to him because I was sorry, but it was so late that I had to leave. Sorry, sir... I had snacks like pizza and fries then went to ride a wakeboard and jet ski. I was so excited. I was on the back seat of the jet ski V drove and rode a wakeboard. I couldn't stand up at first. I held out but gave up because it was too tiring. But I made it in two. It was another level. It was so amusing... My arms hurt but I was happy to have a new experience. I came back after the shooting with the makeup and hair styling. Today was even more interesting than yesterday

04.05.2017 // Day: 3

🐹: I did the shopping today but there were not many things to buy because they all were so expensive. I bought a totem to protect the room for SUGA and me from a ghost. Go for it, totem!

🐰: In the morning, I was half asleep while preparation and then I began the pictorial work. We moved to another place after the hotel and the place was so beautiful like a painting. The sky was blue as blue can be as if somebody had spread water color there. I recorded many videos and wish them to turn out nicely. Then I went to a souvenir shop. I received 200 peso but I loved everything there so I went over the budget. It was sad, but I bought a dream catcher because I often have a dream these days. I wish I could have only good dreams! Then I had a nice meal. Ah... I saw the sunset and the scenery was beautiful. I recorded another video. I'm sure it will turn out nicely. We opened the presents, finished the shooting and now I'm writing the last diary...! It was hot but happy days. I will swim later too! Bye ♡

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

[ocean-sailor]

FITFWT - Vancouver

WHEN:  MONDAY JUNE 26, 2023 - Doors: 7PM | Show: 8PM*

* There is one support act - Andrew Cushin and then Louis!

WHERE:  Doug Mitchell Thunderbird Sports Centre - UBC Vancouver Campus

 6066 Thunderbird Boulevard, Vancouver, BC

CAPACITY:  8000

TICKET INFORMATION

GA Ticket Holders

General Admission ticket holders may only line up from 8AM on the day of the show (June 26). Overnight camping outside the arena will NOT be permitted.

All General Admission ticket holders will be asked to enter through the East Entrance off Wesbrook Mall.  See map for entrance details.

Please look out for red flags to guide you to the GA entrance.

Have your mobile tickets open and ready to scan to expedite entry.

All General Admission ticket holders must wear a wristband provided by the venue upon entrance to enter the floor.

There are no in/out privileges.

Assigned Seating Ticket Holders

All assigned seats (sections 117-102) will enter through the East Entrance off Wesbrook Mall.  See map for entrance details.

Please look out for blue flags to guide you to the Assigned Seating entrance.

Have your mobile tickets open and ready to scan to expedite entry.

There are no in/out privileges.

Prohibited Items

Travel light! Bags or purses larger than 12" x 12" are not permitted. No backpacks.

The following items are prohibited from the venue:

Any glass items and tin cans

Selfie sticks, GoPro cameras, iPads, tablets

Weapons of any sort

Fireworks

Banners with poles and/or political banners

Objects that can be used as projectiles (inflatable balls, frisbees, etc.)

Professional cameras (with large telephoto or detachable lenses)

Outside food and drink

Video and audio recording equipment

Water bottles

Umbrellas

All prohibited items must be appropriately disposed of prior to entry to the Doug Mitchell Thunderbird Sports Centre being granted.  All patrons and personal belongings may be subject to search. Please be advised that additional items may be prohibited by security.  See full list/details here.  

Merchandise

On June 26, merchandise will be available to purchase:

Outside of the arena entrance from 3 PM until showtime.

Inside the venue, at Sections 118 and 109/110.

All transactions are all cashless.

Getting to the Show

Driving to the show? Be sure to check for updates on nearby construction and possible detours.

Transiting to the show? The nearest bus stop is out front of the venue's Wesbrook Mall entrance.  Plan your trip at BC Translink.   

Guest Services

The Guest Services desk will be located at the top of the stairs at the East Entrance (off Wesbrook Mall). Please visit staff at Guest Services for assistance with:

General questions, way-finding, lost and found items, etc.

Guest Information and answers to any other questions may be found here.  

Weather Forecast ☀️ 

Day:  Sunny.  High 21℃ except 25℃ inland.  (UBC is near the ocean - not inland.) Night:  Clear.  Low 13℃.

UBC Campus Tips

UBC is a beautiful campus and it’s huge - give yourself time to get around.

There are lots of cafes, pubs, and restaurants but some are closed for the summer session.  See the list here.  

There are Things to do at UBC - museums & art galleries, culture - theatre & music, sports & recreation, gardens & nature, and beaches if you want to make a day of it!  

Note:  Wreck Beach is clothing optional (a nude beach).  There is a long staircase to get down to this part of the beach and it’s generally quite busy.  

[newstfionline]

Monday, July 15, 2024

FBI says it has not determined a motive for assassination attempt on former President Donald Trump (AP) On the heels of an attempt to kill him, former President Donald Trump called Sunday for unity and resilience as shocked leaders across the political divide recoiled from the shooting that left him wounded but “fine.” The FBI identified the shooter, who was fatally shot by Secret Service agents, as Thomas Matthew Crooks, 20, of Bethel Park, Pennsylvania, and said he attacked from an elevated position 140 yards from the rally venue at a farm show in Butler. The FBI said Sunday that it had not yet determined a motive, but the agency believed that Crooks acted alone and that he was not previously on the bureau’s radar. Not long before shots rang out, rallygoers noticed a man climbing to the roof of a nearby building and warned local police, according to two law enforcement officials. One local police officer climbed to the roof and encountered Crooks, who pointed his rifle at the officer. The officer retreated down the ladder, and Crooks quickly took a shot toward Trump, and that’s when Secret Service snipers shot him, said the officials. The officials also told AP that bomb-making materials were found inside Crooks’ vehicle, and bomb-making materials were found at his home. Officials described the devices as “rudimentary.”

American attitudes toward political violence (NYT) Robert Pape, a political scientist at the University of Chicago who has studied American attitudes toward political violence since the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the Capitol by a pro-Trump mob, conducted a nationwide poll on the topic last month. It found that 10 percent of those surveyed said that the “use of force is justified to prevent Donald Trump from becoming president.” A third of those who gave that answer also said they owned a gun. Seven percent of those surveyed said they “support force to restore Trump to the presidency.” Half of them said they owned guns. The shooting at Mr. Trump’s rally “is a consequence of such significant support for political violence in our country,” Mr. Pape wrote in an email. “Indeed, significant lone wolf attacks motivated by political violence have been growing for years in the United States, against members of Congress from both parties as well as federal officials and national leaders.”

Angry Birds Take on Drones at New York City Beach (NYT) One is a distinctive shorebird, slightly smaller than an average sea gull, with a bright orange bill that pries open clams, oysters and other shellfish. The other is a remote-controlled gadget with rotating blades. In the skies above Rockaway Beach in Queens, bird and drone are not, it seems, coexisting in harmony. Just as New Yorkers flock to the beach to escape the sweltering summer heat, American Oystercatchers have taken to attacking a fleet of drones deployed by city officials to scan for sharks and swimmers in distress. The aerial conflict between animal and machine is raising concerns about the safety of the shorebirds, as they aggressively pursue the buzzing drones in defense of their nests, city officials and bird experts said.

In Brazil, Early Wildfires Break Records—and Raise Alarm (NYT) Brazil is still weeks away from its traditional fire season, but hundreds of blazes, fanned by searing temperatures, are already laying waste to the Pantanal, the world’s largest tropical wetlands, and to parts of the Amazon rainforest. Scientists say the burning of such vast swaths of land may represent a new normal under rising global temperatures and uneven rain. There were more wildfires in Brazil’s share of the Pantanal, an enormous trove of biodiversity stretching across three countries, between January and June of this year than during the same period in any other year, according to the National Institute for Space Research, which has been tracking fires in Brazil since 1998. The highest number of fires in at least two decades was also recorded in the Amazon and in the Cerrado savanna, a patchwork of shrubs, grasslands and gnarled trees encompassing 1.2 million square miles in Brazil’s central and northeastern regions. Extreme weather has caused fires recklessly ignited by people to quickly spread out of control, one scientist said, “creating the ideal conditions for any spark to become a wildfire.”

Shifts in the international drug trade have devastated poor Colombians whose livelihood is tied to cocaine (NYT) For decades, one industry has sustained the small, remote Colombian village of Caño Cabra: cocaine. Those who live in this community in the central part of the country rise early nearly every morning to pick coca leaf, scraping brittle branches, sometimes until their hands bleed. Later, they mix the leaves with gasoline and other chemicals to make chalky white bricks of coca paste. But two years ago, the villagers said, something alarming happened: The drug traffickers who buy the coca paste and turn it into cocaine stopped showing up. Suddenly, people who were already poor had no income. Food became scarce. An exodus to other parts of Colombia in search of jobs followed. The town of 200 people shrunk to 40. The same pattern was repeated again and again in communities across the country where coca is the only source of income. Colombia, the global nexus of the cocaine industry, where Pablo Escobar became the world’s best known criminal, and which still produces more of the drug than any other nation, is facing tectonic shifts as a result of domestic and global forces that are reshaping the drug industry. The surge in global coca production has led to too much supply.

Germany is forcing some asylum seekers to work, when they just want real jobs (Washington Post) After a decade of backlash over a historic influx of asylum seekers, mostly from the Middle East, some localities in Germany are experimenting with low-paid, mandatory work programs for immigrants. Proponents maintain that these programs are engines of integration, while critics slam them as slave labor. The debate comes against the backdrop of an aging Germany whose economy is in desperate need of workers, and an immigrant community that is in desperate need of jobs but faces restrictions during the asylum process. Deep in the eastern state of Thuringia, the district of Saale-Orla-Kries has implemented one of these pilot projects for dozens of Syrian immigrants. Hanan Baghdadhi, 48, and Anas Alharerei, 26, work three days a week at the town’s sports association for about $0.86 an hour. (Germany’s standard minimum wage is about $12.85 an hour.) Their meager pay supplements a monthly allowance of nearly $500 from the state. Anyone eligible for the work program who refuses to participate is docked about $200 from that allowance. It can take migrants years to get real jobs, even though Germany needs 400,000 new workers annually to sustain its current rate of economic growth.

Treason and espionage cases are rising in Russia since the war in Ukraine began (AP) Treason cases have been rare in Russia in the last 30 years, with a handful annually. But since the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, they have skyrocketed, along with espionage prosecutions, ensnaring citizens and foreigners alike, regardless of their politics. The more recent victims range from Kremlin critics and independent journalists to veteran scientists working with countries that Moscow considers friendly. The accused are often held in strict isolation in Moscow’s notorious Lefortovo Prison, tried behind closed doors, and almost always convicted, with long prison sentences. In 2022, Putin urged the security services to “harshly suppress the actions of foreign intelligence services, promptly identify traitors, spies and saboteurs.” The First Department, a rights group that specializes in such prosecutions and takes its name from a division of the security service, counted over 100 known treason cases in 2023, lawyer Evgeny Smirnov told The Associated Press. He added there probably were another 100 that nobody knows about.

Ukraine Is Targeting Crimea, a Critical Base for Russia’s Invasion (NYT) In a clear night sky above the shores of Odesa, the faint glow from missiles streaks over the Black Sea. For much of the war, it was one-way traffic, with Russia using the occupied Crimean Peninsula first as a launchpad for its full-scale invasion and then as a staging ground for routine aerial bombardments. Ukraine, now armed with American-made precision missiles, is for the first time capable of reaching every corner of Crimea—and the missiles are increasingly flying in both directions. While it is unlikely to have much effect on the front line, Ukraine’s campaign with the long-range version of the Army Tactical Missile Systems, known as ATACMS, appears meant to force the Kremlin to make difficult choices about where to deploy some of its most valuable air defenses to protect critical military infrastructure.

Sizzling heat wave in parts of southern and central Europe prompts alerts (AP) Weather alerts, forest fires, melting pavement in cities: A sizzling heat wave has sent temperatures in parts of central and southern Europe soaring toward 40 degrees Celsius (104 Fahrenheit) in some places. From Italy to Romania, authorities warned people to be cautious, drive carefully if going on holiday, drink plenty of water and avoid going out during the hottest hours of the day. Italian authorities declared a red weather alert in seven cities on Thursday, mostly in the central parts of the country but also the capital Rome and Trieste in the northeast. Rome’s municipal authorities issued a digital app to help people locate public drinking fountains as temperatures reached 38 C (100 F) on Thursday. The heat conditions are aggravated by humidity and could affect healthy people as well as those with health conditions, Italian authorities warned.

Booming Turkish TV drama industry captures hearts and minds worldwide (AP) Under the sweltering Turkish sun, tourists wander through sets that recreate Ottoman and Byzantine-era castles, take selfies with actors in traditional Ottoman costumes and watch horseback stunt performances. Among them is Riia Toivanen, 22, a devoted fan of Turkish television drama who traveled to Istanbul from Finland with her mother to delve into the realm of her beloved shows. Some 8,000 miles (12,800 kilometers) across the globe in Villa Carlos Paz in Argentina, 66-year-old retired teacher Raquel Greco watches an episode of a Turkish romantic comedy, surrounded by memorabilia from her once-in-a-lifetime trip to Istanbul where she visited landmarks she knew from years of watching Turkish shows. The global popularity of Turkish TV dramas—or dizi in Turkish—has thrust Turkey into the position of a leading exporter of television, greatly bolstering the nation’s international image and drawing millions of viewers and tourists worldwide to its historical and cultural sites which are backdrops to many of the shows.

How Hamas Is Fighting in Gaza: Tunnels, Traps and Ambushes (NYT) They hide under residential neighborhoods, storing their weapons in miles of tunnels and in houses, mosques, sofas—even a child’s bedroom—blurring the boundary between civilians and combatants. They emerge from hiding in plainclothes, sometimes wearing sandals or tracksuits before firing on Israeli troops, attaching mines to their vehicles, or firing rockets from launchers in civilian areas. They rig abandoned homes with explosives and tripwires, sometimes luring Israeli soldiers to enter the booby-trapped buildings by scattering signs of a Hamas presence. Through eight months of fighting in Gaza, Hamas’s military wing—the Qassam Brigades—has fought as a decentralized and largely hidden force. From below ground, Hamas’s ghost army has appeared only fleetingly, emerging suddenly from a warren of tunnels—often armed with rocket-propelled grenades—to pick off soldiers and then returning swiftly to their subterranean fortress. Sometimes, they have hid among the few civilians who decided to remain in their neighborhoods despite Israeli orders to evacuate, or accompanied civilians as they returned to areas that the Israelis had captured and then abandoned.

[tkeyahwrotethis]

Twelve: Girl Shake That Laffy Taffy

I finally got the house. The one I had been talking about, in the woods very secluded with lots of land. I have a daughter. I liberated her from her parents as a newborn and I’m the only mother she’s ever known. A lot of modern-day witches out themselves to the public and want to be famous and known for their sorcery. I, however, prefer the wealth. Not in the form of money like humans would think wealth is but the wealth of emotions. Love is best, but any emotions will do… anger, jealousy, sadness, envy, longing. And it’s not the quantity of people that feel something for you that’s magical, it’s the quality of the individual that I can convince to feel something for me that makes me wealthy. I work from home writing love spells and potions but now my daughter is 5 years old and ready for human school. I’ve always thought of homeschooling her because she’s special and I don’t want this world to try and dim her light, but social aspects are important. This is where I fucked up. 

After some time of my baby going to school, every day she tells me she played, she colored, sang songs, and learned abc’s and 123’s. Nothing was ever out of the ordinary until this one particular day I went to throw something out in the trash and I noticed wrappers. Specifically candy wrappers, and even more specifically, Willy Wonka candy wrappers. I felt a sheer panic overcome my entire body. I took the wrappers out of the trash can I felt like I was losing my mind. I pulled it together and called my daughter into the room. I squatted down to her eye level and asked her about her day in school scanning her face for any reactions. There were none. It was a typical day. I told her I wasn’t mad at her but, was she eating candy? She smiled a sweet girl smile and tilted her head and ran to get her backpack filled with candy and chocolate where she conveniently remembered a man in a top hat coming to her school looking for children to tour his candy store. “You mean chocolate factory?” I asked. “Yeah that, chocolate factory,” babygirl corrected herself. She started waving this dreaded golden ticket around saying she won. My heart felt like it was going to fall out of my butt. I snatched it from her and crumpled it up. “We’ll be on vacation far far away at that time you can’t go,” I told her. 

As promised, I took my daughter on a far far away beach vacation and she had forgotten all about the chocolate factory. I managed to turn on the news while we were in our hotel room:

“BREAKING NEWS 4 MISSING CHILDREN REUNITED WITH THEIR PARENTS THANKS TO WILLY WONKA AND HIS GOLDEN TICKETS STEALTH OPERATION” He came on camera with his wife Haley Coogam all teary-eyed. I rolled my eyes at the screen. “We still have hope that our daughter is alive and out there somewhere, we just want you to come home.” I will make sure they never ever see their daughter again if it’s the last thing I do. I turned the TV off and finished out the remainder of my vacation with my daughter.

Upon returning home and getting cell service again, I noticed a peculiar email. “WAXING IS OUT, SUGARING IS IN! COME IN FOR YOUR FIRST SUGARING ON US!” I made my appointment and went in the next day. They had a waiting room so I gave babygirl headphones and a tablet and told her to be cool. I went in and the person from behind the curtain was a man dressed in pink, I had requested a woman but he wore a mask and gloves and was obviously professional so I undressed from the waist down and got on the table. He told me to open my legs, wider and wider and he rubbed some baby powder on my pussy with his gloved hands … we got to talking. 

He asked me about my job. I said I’m a writer. He asked me where I Lived and I told him a general area. He asked if I was married. I said no. He said, I bet you want children of your own. I thought the wording was weird. But with hot sugar wax on my very sensitive pussy lips I just stayed quiet and pondered his statement. He snatched off the wax. A tear fell from my eye with every pull of wax. He rubbed each freshly waxed part of my pussy with his gloved hand until the stinging went away it started stimulating my clit by accident. With every pull of the wax, he rubbed it to make it feel better I got wetter and wetter. Usually, to wax your asshole, you put knees to chest but maybe it was different with sugaring idk it was my first time. He told me to lay down flat on my stomach. Turn my head to the side and spread open my asscheeks for him. He waxed my asshole and then started massaging it then I felt his other hand reach beneath me and start massaging my pussy. He started fingering my pussy from behind. One and then two gloved fingers. It felt so good I couldn’t help but cum. A happy-ending wax treatment is the only happy ending this witch needs. I told him I’m finished and pushed him off and out of me. I swiftly got up and headed behind the curtain to grab my clothes and purse. He asked me again if I wanted children of my own from behind the curtain while I was trying to shake my panties out of my balled-up clothes on this chair. I responded, “I have one daughter she’s a handful enough.” He ripped open the curtain grabbed me by my neck and slammed me into the floor. “No, you stole her from me if you wanted a kid of your own all you had to do was ask.” I was completely speechless how did I not see this coming?? I shoved him as hard as I could balling my clothes and purse, crawling bottomless toward the door. All my efforts were thwarted when he grabbed my ankle and pulled me into him. He pressed my face into the floor with one hand, used the other to bend my arm behind my back, and used his legs to open mine. He told me he was going to cum in my thieving little pussy and I better keep his child. He forced himself into me with ease because I was already so wet from him fingering me. I kicked and thrashed but he was pumping himself into me steadily and deeply. He made me take all of him until I felt his warm cum fill me up entirely until it was gushing out of me. To add insult to injury he used his gloved hand to roughly fingerfuck the excess cum back inside of me. While he was getting up off the floor I quickly grabbed my balled-up clothes while half-naked cum dripping down my legs, and I ran. My daughter still sitting in the waiting room with headphones not suspecting anything when I grabbed her threw her over my shoulder and ran half-naked to the car. I tossed her in the front seat and peeled out of the parking lot. I drove without panties with a freshly waxed cum filled pussy until we ran outta gas. We lived in different woods, in a new house, with a new baby.

[yohomobile025]

Exploring the Convenience and Freedom of Canada eSIM and Beyond: Global Connectivity at Your Fingertips

Introduction

In our increasingly connected world, staying connected while traveling is a top priority for many. The advent of eSIM technology has revolutionized the way we think about mobile connectivity abroad. Canada, a country known for its vast landscapes and diverse culture, offers travelers the convenience of eSIM services. Beyond its borders, countries like Italy, Thailand, China, Mexico, and Spain have also embraced eSIM technology, offering seamless access to data, calls, and messages. Let's delve into the world of eSIM, its benefits, and the global connectivity it brings.

The Rise of eSIM Technology

Traditional physical SIM cards have long been the standard for mobile connectivity. However, eSIM (embedded SIM) technology eliminates the need for a physical card by integrating a SIM chip directly into a device. This innovative approach allows users to switch carriers and plans without needing to physically change SIM cards, offering flexibility and convenience like never before.

Canada eSIM: Convenience for Travelers

For travelers visiting Canada, eSIM technology provides an efficient way to stay connected. Instead of dealing with the hassle of purchasing and inserting a physical SIM card, travelers can simply activate a Canada eSIM upon arrival. This means no more waiting in line or worrying about losing a small SIM card. With a few taps on your device, you can enjoy local data, calls, and messages seamlessly.

Exploring Beyond Borders: International eSIMs

Beyond Canada, many other countries have embraced eSIM technology, making it easier for travelers to access data and communicate while abroad. Italy, with its rich history and cultural treasures, Thailand's vibrant cities and beaches, China's bustling urban landscapes, the vibrant culture of Mexico, and the charming streets of Spain—all offer eSIM services. This means you can explore these destinations without the need to purchase and switch physical SIM cards.

The Unlimited eSIM Data Plan

One of the most significant advantages of eSIM technology is the availability of unlimited data plans. This is especially valuable for travelers who rely heavily on data for navigation, communication, and staying connected with loved ones. With an unlimited eSIM data plan, you can explore new places without worrying about exceeding data limits or facing exorbitant charges.

Setting Up an eSIM: Easy and Convenient

Setting up an eSIM is a straightforward process. Upon arriving in a new country, you can purchase an eSIM plan from a local carrier or an eSIM provider that specializes in international plans. After scanning a QR code or entering a provided activation code, your device is ready to access the local network. This process is user-friendly and can be completed in a matter of minutes.

Future of Connectivity: Embracing the Benefits

As eSIM technology continues to gain traction globally, it's clear that the future of mobile connectivity lies in its convenience and flexibility. Whether you're a frequent traveler, a digital nomad, or someone who values hassle-free communication, eSIMs offer an efficient way to stay connected wherever you go.

Conclusion

The advent of eSIM technology has transformed the way we stay connected while traveling. From Canada eSIMs to international eSIMs in countries like Italy, Thailand, China, Mexico, and Spain, the benefits of this technology are undeniable. With its convenience, flexibility, and the availability of unlimited data plans, eSIMs are paving the way for a more seamless and connected global travel experience. Whether you're exploring the stunning landscapes of Canada or immersing yourself in the cultures of far-off destinations, eSIM technology is your passport to connectivity and freedom.

For more info:-

Spain eSIM

canada eSIM

[raizinggroup12]

A Guide to the Malaysia Visa Application Process

Dream careers how dreamy they seem to be but its not always in dreams !

Some processes are simple enough to pursue your dream career especially if you are Dreaming of a career in Malaysia? Don't let the visa process hold you back! With the simple and speedy Malaysia visa application process, you can turn your dream into a reality.

Whether you're a Tourist, Business owner or a highly skilled worker, we've covered everything you need to know about Visa Requirements and application process. So what are you waiting for? With Raizing Global, travelers can avoid the stress and uncertainty of the visa application process and focus on planning their trip.

Lets dive deep into this blog to get more information about online visa application process:

Malaysia is a popular tourist destination with beautiful beaches, stunning landscapes, and a rich cultural heritage. From bustling cities to serene countryside, there's something for everyone in Malaysia. We understand getting a visa can sometimes be a headache but with Raizing Global we offer easy and hassle-free tourist visa services for those planning to visit Malaysia.

Types of Visa:

There are several types of visas that allow foreigners to enter Malaysia for various purposes, such as:

1. Tourist Visa: This is for people who want to visit Malaysia for a short period of time, usually for sightseeing or vacation. The visa is valid for up to 90 days. 2. Business Visa: This is for people who want to travel to Malaysia for business purposes such as attending meetings, conferences, or negotiating contracts. The visa is valid for up to 90 days. 3. Student Visa: This is for students who have been accepted by an educational institution in Malaysia. The visa is valid for the duration of the course. 4. Employment Visa: This type of visa is for those who have received an employment offer from a Malaysian employer. The visa is valid as long as the employment agreement is in effect.

Malaysia Visa Online Application:

The good news is that you can apply for a Malaysia work visa online, from India. The online application process is straightforward and can save you time and effort. You'll need to fill out an application form, provide supporting documents, and pay the application fee. Once submitted, your application will be reviewed, and you'll be notified of the status.

Malaysia visa online application process for foreign workers: The visa application process in Malaysia is notoriously lengthy and difficult, but it can be done online. To get started, ensure that you have all the necessary documents and meet the eligibility criteria.

Documents Required for Tourist / Business e-Visa for Malaysia:

1. Scanned Passport Copy

2. Applicant's Photo according to the Guideline issued by the Malaysian Embassy.

3. Flight Tickets for Round Trip

4. Hotel Reservation or Invitation letter (If visiting family or friends)

5. Original Bank Statement upto 6 months

6. Personal Covering letter (If going for a Business Visa)

7. Invitation letter from Host company in Malaysia & Covering Letter from the Indian company. (If going for a Business Visa)

Requirements for Work Visas in Malaysia:

The requirements for a work pass in Malaysia depend on the type of visa the employed person needs. If your company is incorporated in Malaysia, most of your employees will apply for an Employment Pass, which requires a diploma, certificate, and relevant work experience. Other common requirements include a passport with at least 18 more months until its expiration, completed application form attached to the original employment contract, recent passport photos, and letters from the employing entity confirming wages and tax revenue.

To get started, all you need is your passport, a digital photo, and some basic information about your trip. Choose the type of visa that's right for you, whether it's a business visa, tourist visa, or something else.

Process for e-Visa for Malaysia:

1. Visit Malaysia VLN,  Official Website of Malaysia Visa Application approved by the Imigresen Malaysia.

2. Fill in the Details and register as an applicant. Check your Registered Email and Verify the Email.

3. Navigate back to the Website  and Login using your Registered Email and Password.

4. Fill out the Application form with all the information required. Save and Proceed

5.  Select Mode of Payment: Bank Transfer, QR Code, Cash at Counter, UPI Payment, Paytm, Google pay, Payment Gateway.

6. Application Confirmation will be sent on Registered Email ID

7. Information regarding Application Status will be updated accordingly to you via Phone/ Email/ SMS/ Whatsapp by the Malaysia VLN Centre.

Getting a visa to Malaysia can be a complex process, and the requirements can vary depending on your country of origin and the purpose of your visit. Generally, visitors may need to provide documentation such as a valid passport, return ticket, proof of sufficient funds, and a letter of invitation if necessary. Some applicants may also be required to undergo a medical examination or provide biometric data.

However, there are also visa services and travel agencies, such as Raizing Global, that can assist with the visa application process and make it easier for travelers to obtain their visas. These services can help ensure that all necessary documentation is provided and can provide guidance on any specific requirements for your situation. Overall, while getting a visa to Malaysia may not be a straightforward process, there are resources available to help make it easier, and with proper preparation and assistance, travelers can still enjoy a successful and enjoyable trip to Malaysia.

[jacks-tracks]

Last blog

Well probably, as I am leaving mexico tomorrow for Canada, and I did not keep the blog going last year.

Public transit in Mexico city is good if you know where to catch what Happily there is transit to the airport and the bus ran right beside my hotel, where I,d seen buses marked Buenavista /aeropuerto. Having gotten the right bus(6pesos) i rode to the transfer point(with much useful advice) and no crowding at 10 am. My Metro pass was empty, but the driver let me on anyway, and I had to refill it at the station. Again a helpful employee showed me how and i put another 30 pesos in, the fare to the aeropuerto. Delivered right to the Terminal 1, and still time for an ice cream, before struggling with the crowds surging into Volaris airlines(cheapo flights, full) Had a few bum steers, but having done this before I was able to find the security entrance(no signs, just follow the anxious looking people), and passed after emptying out all orifices. Being the cheapo Volaris gets the end gates so it,s a walk, but at least it was not the delivery busses that Aeromexico uses to get passengers to planes waiting on the tarmac. I was anxious about my boarding pass, printed out by the cooperative lady at Hotel Isabel, but when the time came the harrased attendent did not even scan the bar code, just a wave through. Full plane, easy flight and down into the hot air blast of Puerto at 3 pm. Phew, it got hotter over my 2 week absence! No signage for collectivos, did I want a taxi? More asking and presto here is a collectivo, only 80 pesos to Casa Dan. Taxi 200+. By 4 oclock I was back in room #3 and showered, unpacked and in the pool. Water , which was chilly in January is now soup, a tepid bath, but floating free was very relaxing.

Made a trip the next AM to the old mercado for nuts, coffee, and fresh fruit, a huge bag. Prices a re climbing, and though I shop at the wholesalers I see things generally costing 20% more than in October. Cabs have doubled in a year, and collectivo trucks up 30%. Room rates at Dans are up 20% too, so my room is now $1200 canadian a

month, still a good deal, and my favorito.

Only 5 days in town, so I went to Playa Manzanillo for a swim, but the sea was covered in brown scummy foam. probably harmless die off of algae in cold water, but definitely not appealing, so I just loafed on the beach in palm a shade. By 11 the beach was filling up, time to go to Tere comedor for Huevos Mexicana with those fresh tortillas. Place is always busy, as the food is cheap and traditional, and the service is surprisingly good. All I could eat, a nice break, and back to the pool. And that,s where I,ve been, reading in my hammock, watching the sun go down from the top terrace, and eating well. Got a few things at Super Che like granola and yogurt, big juice boxes, etc. so am stocked up till departure.

Mornings walking my daily mile along the beach and back on Calla Morro. There.s a new boutique hotel there that looks good, AC rooms, cafe, shared kitchen, reasonable privacy, gringa owned with a pool in the works. No I,m not leaving Dans, but it,s good to have on site knowledge of alternatives, so 1400 Can a month , new clean, a bit away from the strip so quieter, but not yet a place I,d be comfortable walking to after dark. Of course I,m always home by dark, and Taxis are an alternative if I,d gone to the Split. Speaking of the Split, 1st I,d heard that Aldy had bought it, and 2nd Barry fell down drunk. Situation normal. Aldy from Quadra island in BC is a character, one of those people who can drink beyond believable amounts, and who has WCB pension for life that allows him to indulge in a series of follies.

Peaches and Barry have left, and i,m the only old guy/long stay left. Effusive welcome from the staff, and they have been enjoying more fruit smoothies. I arranged to leave a tip for all 10 of them , only 100 pesos each, but equitable. The maids get tips en season. The 100 is sort of a thank you for all their kindnesses.

Confirmed my flight and bus times. looks like I can take the Sur bus at 11 am and be at the airport by 1pm, 4 hours before my flight, in case of immigration difficulties. Packed sandwiches for travel (Westjet does not feed the cattle car section) and spent many hours cramming my load into the overloaded suitcase. Booze for friends, coffee, cinnamon, nuts, vanilla, the things that are here. I did get all the leavers into the bucket for the bodega storage, then decided to add a cardboard box of bits to the pile. Suitcase came in overweight but I don't believe the bathroom scale as It,s older than me. Oddly, the real hassle is clothes. I live in flip flops and shorts, now I must put on underwear, long pants, t shirt ,long sleeved shirt, vest , coat and raincoat, socks are wool, all is heavy. I'll try to take most in a bag and put it on as I progress . Vancouver is 12 degrees daytime, 4 degrees at night. Brrr!

And just to encourage my leaving we had a 5,1 earthquake at 8 pm, a bed shaker, but no damage or aftershocks. I,ve ridden out a 6.1 and a 6.5 here, so a teremoto tremblor is nothing. Maru wrote that she was at her ancient aunties 17th floor apartment when the sirens went off, but there was nothing she could do but hope. Mexico city shook , but no damage. Seems the subways are built to float, bridges are engineered for quakes, and people just carry on. New in CDMX is an aerial tramway 4 miles long linking the favellas on the steep slopes to transit. People can take the tram(9 pesos) to the subway in 10 minutes instead of 1 hour in a mini van. Looked very odd sweeping over the city. like where,s the snow? With 35 million people to move its an alternative.

A few emails home, much packing, I,m ready! Watching the sunset last night a thrush warbled in the fig tree and the sound was so like robins in the spring that i got choked up. Memories , lost love, springs we'll never share. I shall throw myself back into Lasqueti society and move on.

So blog fans, keep well. dream big. live life fully, and there will be more...... Jack