#then google maps tried to only show me the parking lot and not the location page with the right

[firesalamander]

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[musea-reviews]

Oorlogsmuseum Overloon

(War museum Overloon) ‘’War belongs in a museum''

Location: Overloon, Noord-Brabant, The Netherlands Price: 16,50 / veteran 11,50 Duration: 2 - 4 hours Transport: Pretty hard, more about that in the blog Language: signs are Dutch and German. Videos/audio Dutch, German, and English Activities: Moral interactive questions, A LOT of war vehicles, local stories Date of visit: Monday 13 March 2023Website

The War Museum Overloon presents the history of the Second World War. Where you can see how it can be that in five years’ time, more than fifty million people lost their lives, but also how the oppressed people resourcefully coped with restrictions and shortages. And of course with special attention to the Battle of Overloon.

Getting there

So getting to the museum by public transport is not a very good idea, you have two choices and that is to go to station Boxmeer or station Venray, from here you take bus 82 and get out at stop Museumlaan. HOWEVER, bus 82 only goes once every hour… and like buses are, they usually can also be too late or too early. I went to Venray since Google Maps recommended it, from there I had to take 2 buses, one to Venray centrum and then to that other bus. So I got out to look at what bus I had to take next. Only to find out that was the bus that I just got out of… the bus that just drove away… so I had to wait an hour or walk over there for an hour. If you have good shoes, and it's nice weather the walk is not even a big problem, it was only very windy today. And my shoes made my feet bleed. But I thought I can just ask for band-aids when I get there.

 The museum starts with a park in the forest that has hills, bridges, statues, and a playground. This part is free, and I would recommend it if you're around. These whole surroundings for that matter, since it all, has very enjoyable woods. But after I got to the museum I tried talking to the desk lady who quickly dismissed me and pointed at the gate where I could scan my card to get in. usually you get greeted with a ‘’welcome here's a booklet, do you know how the museum works?’’ things like that.

Expositie

The beginning was a temporary exposition I believe, but I hope not as it was the most interesting part. It follows the stories of 6 different people and showed off their life and choices. Name em

Besides that, it had small paragraphs about different people and some items that had to do with their stories. A great thing was that they have a lot of listening things, where you could choose the language and listen to the person tell their story.

It also had interactive parts, all in the same theme of ‘’what would you do in this person's situation, A or B’’ then you and maybe other people had to vote by standing left or right, after which the computer would calculate the result. Pretty captivating. And more fun if you go with a group.

So many old cars

The next part of the museum was a big room full of vehicles, cars, tanks, bikes, boats, airplanes. All are real and used in the war, all with exact information. I'm just not a car guy or anything, so it all looked like a room full of the same thing to me. It also had that typical oil or old car smell, which is not a complaint. They're fore I kinda glanced over this place shortly.

In the middle of that is a round room with a movie playing, the first room shows exactly how the Netherlands was freed, and that at this exactly place was the biggest tank fight in the Netherlands, the whole village was ruined after the fight, but ruined and free. So that’s why this museum is all the way out here. Because this fight was planned they had time to evacuate the citizens of the city, they had to walk to Maastricht, very, very far from here. It made me feel bad for complaining about my 1-hour walk. In the next room, you get to feel what it's like for those citizens in the basement of these churches. It’s a lot of actor children being like ‘’where is my dad, where is my doll, I'm hungry’’ this is nothing new and after 10 minutes of bomb noises and screaming children I was glad I was not stuck in that situation and just had the choice to leave.

All in all, these museums always make you glad that you don’t have to go thou war. Even tho some people are going through it right now.

Would I pay the price: no, 12 euros would be my max for this museum. 

Would I revisit it: I would revisit it if I take someone with me, it would be more fun that way. And next time I wouldn't take the bus. Who do I recommend it to: tourists, to see the war from a different point of view. I like how inclusive it was with the languages.  Interactive:         3 Educational: 5 Storytelling: 5 Price: 2 Memorable: 3 Total score: 3,6

Most interesting things I learned:

moffenzeef, A contraption of metal wires that removed the storing that the Nazis’s placed on radio waves (so such people couldn’t hear any news from England or the rest of the country. Mof is a Dutch slur for German/Nazis and zeef means sift. Arnolda Huizinga writes in her diary that she bought a moffenzeef on the black market for just 5 Gulden

The Nazis told the people to hand a lot of things in. things like leather, metals, cars, boats, dogs, and horses, they even started stealing church bells to melt into things.

Darkening, after sundown everything had to be dark, no cars, no streetlight, all houses had to put black plastic in front of their windows or use darkening lamps, Philips even stated making a whole set of dark lamps.

[fific7]

Ticket to Ride - Part 3

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Inspired by The Beatles song of the same name. This takes place in my S1 Punisher AU with Arrogant!Billy in attendance, in which he gets a taste of his own medicine.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including unprotected and oral, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

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𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕨𝕙𝕪 𝕤𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕠 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙

𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕥𝕨𝕚𝕔𝕖, 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕓𝕪 𝕞𝕖

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Billy slammed the door of his hotel room closed behind him. He was fuming.

Damn!!! Damn, fuck, damn, fuck, fuck, fuck! He stormed across the room and threw himself onto the bed, hands linking behind his head on the pillows, glaring up at the ceiling. Apart from anything else, his male pride was injured - he was an ex-Marine for fuck’s sake! And he’d been outsmarted by a... a.. civilian!!

Lying there for a while, wondering what the hell he was going to do now. Micro couldn’t track her phone this time, and fuck knows where she was headed. Or... had she gone somewhere else? Or just moved to another location in London?

His gut told him she’d gone somewhere else. Those apartments she’d been staying in were for longer-term lets, not just one or two-night stays. Maybe she was using that as a base of operations like he would’ve done in the military. Yeah, he liked the sound of that. He sat up suddenly, taking his phone out of his pocket and opening Google Maps. He searched for Wood Wharf and when it listed up, he moved the map around with a finger and within a couple of seconds spotted what he’d been looking for - City Airport.

Billy grinned. He was back on her trail, he just knew it.

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Frank jolted awake, and after a few seconds realised that his phone was ringing. He grabbed it, screwing up his bleary eyes as he tried to read the time and who was calling. Shit, it was 1 a.m.! And it was Micro. What the hell?

He accepted the call, hearing Micro’s muffled voice saying, “Frank?” “Yeah, yeah... what’s up, Micro? And you sound like you’re underwater.” There was a slight pause and a swallowing sound, “M’eatin’ a donut. Sorry. Look, Russo’s just texted me again - this time he wants me to search for her on flights outta London City Airport. I said ok... but....” his voice trailed off.

Frank sighed. He hated this, he was stuck slap bang in the middle of all this shit between Billy, Karen and Billy’s girl.

Billy - he could kick his dumb ass for ‘messin’ around’ with Madani. Karen - he really didn’t want to upset his girl. And Billy’s girl - he felt sorry for her that she’d had to put up with Billy’s recent bad behaviour but.... he’d been so relaxed and happy since the two of them got together. So... he’d give his idiot friend a break... but only a small one.

“Yeah OK, Micro, go ahead with what he asked ya to do. Let Russo know once you got an answer for him, then you tell me. And if Karen ever asks, you didn’t call me ‘bout this till a helluva lot later this mornin’. Got it!?”

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Stepping out of the lift onto the landing of the 20th floor, you were met by a view across the harbour and a symphony in red - carpets, walls, doors.

(My Photos - Dec 2014)

The W was even better than you’d imagined, and as you reached your room and opened the door, you loved the view you got all along the beach from the big picture windows.

After you’d unpacked, you dropped a quick text to Karen just letting her know where you were, then left your room to go and have a walk around the local area, called Barceloneta according to your online guide book.

There was a cooling sea breeze, the sun was shining and you turned your face up towards it.

The W Hotel was right at the far end of the beach, and you had a pleasant stroll along it until you reached a busy street called Passeig Joan de Borbó, which ran parallel to the marina known as Port Vell. You passed several restaurants and decided that you’d have an early lunch in one of them, rather than eating at the hotel. You could have dinner or even room service there later on.

Sitting at an outside table, looking at the yachts moored at the marina, watching all the people strolling by on the wide pavement, sipping at a glass of wine.... you gave a happy sigh and relaxed back in your seat.

Billy would never find you here.

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Touching down in Barcelona, Billy watched the airport buildings rushing past as the air brakes were applied and the plane began to slow down. He was impressed with how short a flight it was from London; it was only a few hours since Micro had messaged him with the search results and he was here already.

He made his way through Passport Control and headed for the taxi rank, joining the queue and eventually being waved towards one of the waiting cars by the attendant.

Half an hour later, he was checking into the W. He felt excited, pleased, a thrill of anticipation - he’d caught up with her this time. Now all he had to do was dump his stuff in his room and stake out the lobby until she inevitably showed up.

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You’d walked up the full length of Joan de Borbó until you’d reached a new area of town called El Born. There was a lovely park - it had been built over a citadel from long ago when Barcelona had been occupied by invaders - and it was full of narrow little streets and cute artisan boutiques. Stopping for a coffee next to an old market building - the Mercat del Born - which had been converted into a cultural centre, once again you just enjoyed the sunshine and watching the world go by.

You looked around at the beautiful buildings; how lovely it would be to live in an apartment in one of these like the locals did. Most of the buildings had ‘Juliet balconies’, not especially spacious but enough to be able to step out of your apartment, maybe sit and enjoy the fresh air if you had room for a little chair. Some of the balconies had lush green plants in big ceramic pots on them, and you thought that sitting out there in amongst them would be like having your own little cocoon from the outside world.

You had a leisurely stroll through the neighbourhood, taking an interest in the small stores, tapas bars and old buildings. At the far end of the Passeig del Born you admired the huge Santa Maria del Mar, a church which your guide book told you was a fine example of Catalan Gothic. This opinion you agreed with - it was a beautiful church and you ventured inside to quietly look at its impressive yet simple interior.

You came out and turned onto Carrer Montcada, where the famous Picasso Museum was located. Not that you were going to go and check it out - your guide book had given some ‘best times to queue’ and spending time in a line of tourists was not your idea of fun - but you wanted to see if El Xampanyet, a famous tapas bar, was still open so you could have a glass of cava. Unfortunately it wasn’t, it had closed a couple of hours earlier and wouldn’t reopen for another couple. Sighing, you decided to walk along Montcada which would take you to Carrer Princesa, you could walk down it and cut round past the Mercat del Born again, back to Barceloneta and the W.

You were feeling a little peckish and the thought of some chilled cava and something to eat was really appealing.

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Billy felt his eyes slowly closing. He shook himself awake behind his newspaper, he couldn’t risk falling asleep but what with his disturbed night’s sleep and then his dash to Barcelona was making even him - an ex-Marine who could function on little or no sleep - feel really fatigued.

Sitting in one of the comfy sofas in reception for the past hour or so was not helping, the quiet hum of voices and people entering and leaving by the revolving doors was soothing him into a drowsy state. The newspaper he’d been pretending to read was in Catalan, totally impenetrable to him so he’d had to resort to just looking at the pictures, not the best at keeping his mind active.

He heard the ‘swoosh’ of the revolving door again, looked up and then froze. It was her!! He peeked round the edge of his paper.

She was heading for the lifts, looking in her bag for her keycard as she walked, she needed to swipe it so she could go up to her floor.

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The lift doors opened and you stepped inside, running your keycard over the reader and hitting the button for floor 20. The doors began to close but then suddenly sprang apart again as someone hit the Call button, and you looked up with the usual polite but disengaged smile that people give each other in lifts.

Billy Russo was looking back at you, a small smile on his face as he hit the ‘Close Doors’ button.

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She’d shrank back from him as soon as she’d realised it was him. Billy was incredibly hurt by that. He wasn’t going to harm her!!! He reached a hand out towards her but she moved even further away from him, right into the corner of the lift.

He said her name, then, “Sweetheart.... please! Just hear me out. That’s all I want to do - talk to you.” She glared at him, “Talk!! You want to talk? Ha!! And why would I want to listen to you!?” Billy grabbed her, getting her in a bear hug, kissing her hard and hungrily. He could feel her struggling in his arms but then she began to relax the tiniest little bit, so he just kept on kissing her passionately.

There was a ‘ting’ as the express lift reached its requested floor, and the doors opened onto the landing. There were two elderly ladies standing there and as Billy’s lips broke away from hers, he turned his head to look over his shoulder at them as they stared. “Ladies,” he nodded, firmly taking his girl’s arm in his and pulling her along with him as he got out of the lift.

“That’s not talking!!” she hissed at Billy.

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You were towed along behind Billy until he stopped outside your door. So.... he even knew your room number. Why hadn’t Karen given you the heads-up this time? You were feeling very uneasy. Billy was on a mission, that was clear.

He’d grabbed your keycard while he was kissing you in the lift. Why hadn’t you struggled harder? Because you’d missed him, of course. You didn’t like it, but you couldn’t deny it.

Now he swiped the keycard against the reader on the door, opened it and bundled you inside, closing the door firmly behind him. He let go of your arm and strode into the room past the centre-located bed which faced the huge window and made his way over to it, looking out at the view it gave of the beaches and the city.

(My Photo - Dec 2015)

He sat on the window seat and turned towards you, “Please... let me explain. Have a seat.” Reluctantly you sat at the opposite end of the long seat, but then stood back up again. You needed a drink. Picking up the bottle of gin from the small table by the window, you walked over to the mini fridge and opened it, taking out a small bottle of tonic water before retrieving a glass from the cupboard above it. You walked over to the large unit under the wall-mounted TV and put it all down, then prepared a G&T for yourself and took a large gulp.

“Nothing for me?” asked Billy, with his best puppy-dog eyes and pout. Heaving a sigh, you went back over to the fridge and took out a bottle of Estrella Damm beer for him, popping the top off it for him. Picking up your G&T on the way back to the window seat, you handed him the beer and sat down.

He took a large swig of the beer, and began, “Sweetheart, I....” but you cut him off. “If you dare to say ‘it’s not what you think’, I’ll chop your balls off, Billy.” He winced, and you shot at him, “What’s her name?” Billy shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but again you beat him to it, “And don’t give me any bullshit. I’m not stupid.”

Billy sighed, taking another drink of his beer, “I know you’re not, sweetheart. But I swear I didn’t cheat on you, it was just about getting information.” “What. Is. Her. Name!?” you ground out. His head went down and he said, “Dinah Madani. She works for Homeland,” but not meeting your eyes. “Okay, Russo. Now we’re getting somewhere. What exactly did you get up to with Mizzz Madani?” “Nothing! I swear!” You stood up abruptly, and Billy - who’d been leaning in towards you - rocked back a bit. “Oh, fuck off Billy!” you yelled, “I can smell the guilt off you!”

You were getting angrier and angrier, “You say you wanna talk and then all you do is lie! Get out! Go on - just get out of my room!”

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Billy opened his mouth to say something placatory but seeing just how furious she looked, he decided that a tactical withdrawal was probably the sensible option.

So instead he drained his beer, stood up and began walking to the door. He stopped and turned halfway across the room, gazing at her, “But I do need to properly explain all this to you, angel. Let’s talk later, okay? Please - just give me a chance.”

She nodded, “OK. Tomorrow morning.” He walked to the door, feeling defeated, and left her room. At least she was gonna give him another shot.

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The door closed behind him, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Truly, you hadn’t been sure how he was going to react when you told him to leave - Billy had a temper on him. You really didn’t think he’d physically hurt you but he always had that air of danger about him. And you’d been so angry yourself, you’d kind of lost yourself in it.

He might be dangerous, but he was a cowardly little shit when it came to telling the truth. You thought back to what he’d said - ‘Nothing, I swear’ - yeah, a likely story! He must think you were so dumb!

Picking up the room service menu, you had a brief look through it then ordered a cheeseburger and a cup of coffee. While waiting for it, you got your laptop out of your bag and opened it up.

Sorry Barcelona, I haven’t seen even half of what I’d intended to and I’d been so looking forward to exploring.

But instead, I’ve got to love you and leave you.

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Billy stepped out of the walk-in shower wearing one of the hotel’s fluffy white dressing robes, and headed to his mini-bar. He needed another beer. And some food. He flicked through all the stuff lying out on the unit, finally finding the room service menu and ordering a steak and a coffee.

He sat on the window seat while he waited, propped up against the wall with his long legs stretched out in front of him. He was feeling guilty, uneasy and really not pleased with himself. Telling her the truth was turning out to be more difficult than he’d thought. He wondered out loud, “Why is that?” but in fact he damn well knew why. The way he’d been carrying on with Madani was wrong. Even if he’d only been intent on getting information, it was just like Frank had said - cheating - and he knew it. Even if, in Billy’s book, there was Cheating Lite and Cheating For Real, and his overstepping had only been into Lite territory. Was it really that bad?

Who was he kidding? Unsurprisingly, his girl didn’t like to share.

So one thing he knew for sure was that when - if - he ever told her the complete truth, his angel was going to be very, very unhappy with him indeed.

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You’d ordered a very early room service breakfast and after you’d eaten it while enjoying the view, your belongings were quickly stowed away and you took the lift down to the lobby. After checking out - and assuring the receptionist there was nothing wrong, you just had to leave earlier than you’d anticipated - you were on your way to the revolving door when your phone vibrated.

Karen: Billy got Micro to track you down again, sorry hon! He knows you’re in Barcelona 😳 he’ll be heading out there.

You: Yeah, he’s already here! Caught up with me yesterday evening. Agreed we’d talk this morning. But I’m in a taxi on the way to the airport 😉

Karen: 😂😂😂

Once outside, one of the guest services guys waved up a taxi from the nearby rank for you, and wished you a pleasant journey. The taxi driver asked you which terminal you were headed to, and then you were on your way.

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Barcelona

(My Photos - Dec 2019)

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@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry @odetostep @supernaturalcat7 @obscurilicious @strawb3rrydr3ss @bruxa0007 @aleksanderwh0r3

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[horrorkingdom]

The Satellite Images

A friend of mine showed me how to use Google Maps. I'm sure you've seen it. It lets you use satellite images to look at locations all over the world. A few years ago, I was in a car accident. Since then, I really don't leave the house that often. It's difficult, and the idea of a seeing a car drive by me makes me feel lightheaded. I was fascinated by the fact that I could see all over the world, almost like being there. I could virtually walk down the streets, and it almost felt like I was really there.

I became instantly hooked. It gave me a real eye on the world. I could go to almost any major city, and I did. I'd seen streets in China, Japan, Germany, and England... so many places. I'd even gone to tourist attractions like the Great Barrier Reef and Dracula's castle.

My favorite was to go to random places in major cities and see how many people and animals I could find. The faces of the people were always blurred to protect their privacy, but it was still enjoyable to see them out there, enjoying their life, walking like it was no big deal.

"She must have good taste," I laughed.

I zoomed in closer and noticed the grey bag she carried on a grey and purple shoulder strap. She was walking in a relaxed manner, one hand trailing the wall beside her. I bet if I could have seen her face, I would see that she was smiling. I began to feel a little sad. I let my hands fall onto the arms of my wheelchair and looked at her for a minute more. I wished that I could be there, walking so carefree with her. That wouldn't happen though, until I died. I was stuck in this chair. I sighed and zoomed out of Tokyo. Enough of this for tonight. I turned off the computer and went to bed.

—

I got up early and decided to look around Paris. Paris was always fun. I liked the look of the city, with all of the old, beautiful buildings and so many people to watch. I randomly zoomed to an area and saw a street, lined with old brick buildings, a few small shops, and an old tan brick church. Ahead was an intersection, and dozens of people walked by. A balding businessman walked quickly past, looking back at an old woman, hair covered with a scarf, carrying a large purse. A curvy woman in black pants that were too tight stared into a store window, and two women led a group of small children around a corner.

I spun the view around a few more times, and then saw something peculiar. Sitting on the bench at the bus stop, were two people. One of them was a young woman with her feet stuck in front of her in a relaxed manner. She was wearing a pair of red sneakers, like my own. I was startled for a moment; as I noticed the black pants, white t-shirt, and black hooded jacket. Her dark brown hair was tied loosely behind her head. A grey bag sat on the bench beside her, the shoulder strap hooked over her shoulder.

"This is crazy," I thought. "It can't possibly be the same woman. This is a different country, different continent even. How could it be her?"

This was stupid. It wasn't as if these were live photographs. They were taken ahead of time and then stored. It's not like she was in two places at once. She could just be a traveler. Besides, without seeing her face, it was impossible to tell it was the same person. Brown hair was probably the most common hair color in the world. Those red sneakers were something I purchased online. I'm sure a million other people did too. I shook my head and went to fix some lunch.

When I got back online, I decided to look at Berlin. I picked a random street, as usual. It looked pretty empty. There were brick buildings lining the streets, looking more like factories than anything else. There were also empty lots, full of long grass and piled gravel. There wasn't much to see at all, really. There was a line of motorbikes and a car with two German flags sticking up from it. After more searching, I found one kid. He looked like he was dressed for school, a jacket thrown over his bag. He was intently looking at some kind of mobile device. I was disappointed. I started to leave, but then I caught something out of the corner of my eye. I turned the view, and there they were. Those damned red sneakers.

She was standing on a street corner, next to some kind of signpost. She had a hand on the post, looking down the street, as if waiting to cross the street. I stared, in shock. How could she be there too? Even if she was traveling, there's no way I would find her every time. Even finding her in Paris would have been one heck of a coincidence, but this? This was crazy. Was this some kind of joke? Had Google decided to play a prank on its users that used their product so much? It would have been a great joke...

I did a quick search, looking for a note about a woman that shows up like Waldo. There was nothing. I looked through articles on strange things you can see on Google Maps, but none of them mentioned the woman that travels the world with you. This was crazy. Had my self-imposed isolation driven me mad? Had I become so lonely that I created a hallucination for myself?

Leaving the Berlin image on my screen, I sent a text message to a friend, asking him to look at the locations. I asked him if he saw the same woman. Then I waited, hands sweating, heart thumping in my chest. I jumped when my phone beeped with a return text message, ten minutes later.

The text read, "I see the lady you're talking about in Berlin. I didn't see her in Paris or Tokyo. Is this some kind of game, or what? Are you okay?"

I didn't respond, instead returning to the locations in Tokyo and Paris. There she was. She was there, but it was different. She no longer sat on the bus-stop bench, in Paris. She was standing in front of it, looking for something in her bag. In Tokyo, she was blocks away, squatting down to pet that calico cat. I shivered. Who was she? What was happening?

I switched the map to Brussels. It was another city street. It was lined with old looking buildings, with shops on the ground level, and what I guessed was apartments above. I quickly scanned the streets. They were empty, other than a stocky woman in a bright blue sweater. I did a second sweep. She wasn't there. I sighed in relief. I couldn't believe I was getting so worked up about this.

It was nothing but a coinci-- I stopped, my eyes frozen on the screen. There was a building at the point of a fork in the road, white with a black-ironwork-framed balcony jutting from the second floor. I hadn't seen her, as I had been looking at the sidewalks. There she stood, standing on the balcony, her head tilted in the direction of the camera, almost like she was coyly looking toward me. My breath caught in my throat.

I switched to Sydney. She was leaning against the wall, inside the doorway of a bright blue Carricks Pharmacy building. London showed her getting ready to step onto a red double-decker bus, her head turned to look over her shoulder. She was everywhere I looked. She stood on a brick sidewalk on a bridge in Venice, she walked across a yellow barred crosswalk in Zurich; and in Hong Kong, and she stood between a Wing Lung Bank and a McDonald's adjusting the strap on her bag. In each picture, she came closer and closer to looking directly at me with her blurred out face.

My heart felt like a terrified bird, slamming around inside my chest. I couldn't catch my breath. I wasn't sure what to do. I couldn't call the police. Should I send screenshots to Google?

I clenched my fists tightly and closed my eyes. Who was she? Was she following me? Was I following her? I wish I could see the expression on her face, know what she saw when she looked back at me. I wanted to get out of the chair and run. Why is it that the only thing that made me feel free again, was the thing that made me feel even more trapped? I had to know.

I typed in the name of my town and zoomed into a random street. It was a couple of miles from my house; the gates to the city park were shown in the clarity of daylight, despite it being night here. There she was. There... There she was. She was only a few miles from my house, standing under the ironwork arch that stated the name of the park. She looked directly at the camera, directly at me. I felt like I might throw up. She was near me, and she was watching me. She was coming for me. What did she want?

I typed in the name of the apartment complex where I live. I could see the outside of the building. The parking lot was full of cars, and there were a few blurred out children on the playground. I searched everywhere for her. She wasn't in the parking lot or on the sidewalks, not hiding between the buildings or standing in the playground. I even scanned each of the cars, behind the bushes, and each of the blurred windows. She wasn't there. I curled tightly around myself and lay my head down on the desk.

This place was safe. I didn't leave the apartment anyway. I would never use Google Maps again. I would never see her again. She could stay at the park for all I cared. I smiled to myself and was surprised to find a tear slipping down my face.

"I'm safe," I said to myself in a whisper. It felt good to hear it out loud. "I'm safe."

As I said it, there was a knock at the door. A chill ran down my spine. I had a camera hooked to my computer that showed who was at the front door, which made it easier for me, with my mobility issues. I slowly reached for the control to show myself who was outside, but my hand trembled furiously. As I touched the control, I realized my mistake. The last of Google's images that I'd seen had only shown the outside of the building. Just the outside.

I looked at the screen and saw a woman in a white t-shirt, black pants, black hooded jacket; and carrying a grey bag with a purple and grey striped shoulder strap. Of course, there were those red sneakers. She looked directly at the camera, her face still a complete blur. As I tried to stifle a scream, she raised a hand and knocked loudly on my front door.

[the-trig-and-tonics]

How it all began

Carol had run with her local running group for some time and I was fortunate to join them a couple of years ago. However, once the first lockdown hit, we all had to run on our own. A brief window brought us back together but this was short lived and we soon found the country moving into the tier system.

One of the tier system rules was to allow people to exercise in pairs. Four of us from the group were signed up to run a couple of marathons; one in November, the second in December and it therefore, seemed sensible for the four competitors to form pairs to allow the marathon training to continue. Clive and Emma paired up because they are father and daughter and Carol and I made the other pair.

The first marathon in November was postponed because of the pandemic but the December run went ahead as it was taking place on private land. On a cool, December morning we all found ourselves running around Oulton Park race circuit twelve times under Covid safe restrictions. It was great to be back out running a live race and we all completed the twenty-six miles.

When the whole country went into the second lockdown in January 2021 the rule of two was still in place so Carol and I continued to run together. Virtual races had kept us motivated throughout 2020 but we had bigger plans for the new year. This was our time to join the North Staffs Road Runners Association. Another competition also entered our radar. It was the trig league run by Andrew Vickerman.

Trig? What’s a trig? I had no idea. How had I got to my age not knowing what a trig was? Carol tried to explain but I got mixed up and thought we were talking about way markers. I went home to google. Luckily, my daughter had completed Duke of Edinburgh awards and knew all about trig's so she was able to enlighten me too. For those of you who have no idea what a trig is, then let me explain.

In 1936, the ordnance survey began creating triangulation pillars (trig's) to provide bases for the mapping equipment of the day, the humble theodolite. This was an amazing feat given the times. Teams had to drag all the equipment to make the pillar and perform the measurements to the top of the highest points in Britain (there are a few exceptions). The pillars themselves were used to mount a theodolite and take the necessary readings from a solid base. Teams would then use the measurements to map distances and elevation, building a network of the entire country. They can be seen on OS maps as a blue triangle with a dot in the centre.

But let me return to the trig point premier league. Carol and I duly signed up and began researching what we had let ourselves in for. The season runs from the 1st March to the 31st October 2021. The aim of the competition is to bag as many different, officially recognised trig pillars during the period. The league table is a live update which means as soon as you submit locating a trig it shows on the table. During the season, there will also be a Trig Point Cup, which everyone will be entered into as part of being in the league. People can enter after the season has started, but no favours will be given. As usual, notorious goodies will be given to all completers (Minimum of 10 trigs to qualify). Prizes - Winner (M/F), Cup Winner, Least Visited Trig, Highest Trig, Club (team of 3).

Trig Point Premier League Rules:

1) Each run/walk must be a minimum of 5km. 2) There is no maximum of how many trigs can be bagged per run/walk. 3) Trig point pillars only. 4) A selfie photo must be taken with each bagged trig point. 5) A bag is classed as getting close enough to be in the photo, e.g. must be clearly visible. The organiser’s decision is final. 6) International trig points equal double points (Based outside a person’s country of residence). 7) Obey the countryside code. 8) If required, seek the landowner’s permission.

In the lead up to the league starting there were a couple of weekly competitions to wet our appetite and get a taste of what was to come. The first trig we ran to was situated in Hollington, Staffs. When we reached the footpath and saw the trig over the hedge it was so exciting. We couldn’t believe we’d actually found one. However, it was standing in a field and we couldn’t get near to take a photo. It was a very misty morning so trying to get a photograph over the hedge was not going to work. The trig was lost in the mist. There was only one thing for it. We would have to see if we could get permission to enter the field.

We made our way back down the footpath and proceeded to knock on the farmhouse door. After a short wait, an apprehensive farmer peered out at us and we babbled what we wanted. At first there was a lot of apprehension but after we had convinced the owner that there were not going to be hoards of trig baggers arriving on his door step his mood mellowed and he kindly came out to open the gate and direct us up to the trig.

It was a wonderful feeling, to actually find ourselves standing by a real, concrete trig. Carol, our designated photographer clicked away from all angles and she even gave it a hug. Hug a trig! Could catch on! We knew we’d never get so close to this trig again as we wouldn’t want to knock on the farmer’s door in the future so we wanted to savour every moment. Reluctantly though, we couldn’t justify staying any longer so we made our way back down to the main road leaving our first trig standing proudly at the top of the misty field.

We then had to find our way around the Trigpointing UK website because this is the place to log all trig visits. Carol quickly realised that we needed to think of handle names to use when logging trig's. Carol came up with The Running Farmer’s Wife and then I duly copied her great idea and called myself The Running Nana! The site is used by trig baggers and it is a place for researching information about any trig in the country. People not only log their visits there but they also report on the condition of the trig and provide relevant facts to help other baggers. Carol spends a great deal of time reading these reports and they have definitely helped us in our trig searches.

As novice map readers we have had to go through a steep learning curve. Carol is definitely our driving force. She and her husband Steve have poured over ordnance survey maps at night, highlighting all the local trig's in orange. Carol also had the Trigpointing UK app on her phone and we’ve found ourselves standing in fields, looking at their maps and desperately trying to work out which direction to go in. As a rule of thumb, we found that if we thought it was left then we needed to go right. Somehow though, we managed to find three more trig's before the league started and by now, we were certainly up for the challenge.

We both had birthdays before the league commenced, with Carol’s coming first and she asked for Ordnance Survey maps as a present. After receiving the gifts from Steve we spent time following one of our long Saturday run scouring the maps for trig's. Luckily, I also received three of my own maps for my birthday from John and this meant I could start getting to grips with the workings of the OS maps too.

[harryandmolly]

Complicit // 14 // Final

summary: Shawn is under more pressure than he’s ever known. He craves release and comfort, the simplicity of sex. He gets more than he bargained for.

warnings: language, love, love languages

WC: 8k

------------

He really, really should’ve had a plan.

But, in all fairness, Shawn’s never done the whole “jump on a 12 hour flight on a whim to chase after the love of his life” thing before, so how could he have been expected to make such a plan?

But still, he thinks, standing against a wall under a baseball cap outside Naples International Airport, he could’ve done some more thinking before all this. Or at least could’ve made a pseudo-plan on the plane.

The most Silver could give him in terms of guidance was the address of the house and that Naples is the closest airport. She’s never been to the “Vineyard” before. When Shawn asked if the “Vineyard” was a nickname or if it meant the house is on an actual vineyard, she didn’t know that either. Not extremely helpful, but he’ll figure it out. He has to.

From what he gathers on Google Maps, sucking up international roaming data charges like nobody’s business, Ravello is about an hour and a half southeast of Naples. Not ideal. But the Amalfi Coast is a pretty big attraction, so he figures there’s probably a train. He just has to find a train station.

On the way out the door with his backpack, the only luggage he bothered to pack, he Googles a train route. 

Walk half an hour to the Calata di… something something and take the N5 to… somewhere and walk 3 minutes to somewhere else to catch a bus to somewhere…

.... no fucking way.

He bites into his lip and squints around. Should he rent a car? He winces. Driving in Italy sounds terrifying. What if he gets into a crash? Who is he supposed to call?

No. He needs to hire a car to take him to Ravello. That’s the plan.

More Googling. More squinting. He’s vaguely grateful that he’s been able to stay under the radar so far. He’s not sure he could handle this and dozens of screaming Italian girls begging for selfies without snapping.

He ducks behind a large leafy fig tree when he sees what looks like a group of middle school-aged girls on a field trip scramble past, squealing and laughing. Close call.

He leans against a column and sighs. Silver also gave him Mia’s personal cell number. He could just call her and tell her he’s here and hope she wants to see him and come pick him up. 

Shawn sighs heavily, pouting. He’s not going to do that. This is his only shot at being a romantic hero, like, ever. He’s not going to pansy out and call her for a ride. He’s going to show the fuck up because that’s what Mia deserves.

Whether she wants to see him is another matter and he’d rather not worry about that until about halfway up her driveway.

He sets off toward the transportation center at a quick stride, curls fluttering between the brim of his cap and his forehead. He swerves suddenly to avoid another throng of young women that look ready for a beach vacation.

He parks in front of a driving service and a tall, unnaturally beautiful blonde man who doesn’t look up at him.

“Uh, ciao?” Shawn tries.

He glances up. Shawn holds his breath for the pop star response. It doesn’t come. He exhales.

“Do you speak English?” Shawn asks, wincing at how ignorant he sounds. The man nods boredly.

“Cool. Uh. Ok. I need to go to Ravello.”

“Si, Ravello. There is a train,” the man drawls, the slowest talking Italian Shawn’s ever met.

Shawn nods, uncertain. “Yeah. Right, yeah. But… can I get a car to drive me?”

The man even blinks slowly. “There is also a bus.”

Does this guy just not want business? Shawn sighs.

“Do you not take people to Ravello?” he tries, looking to bridge whatever gap this is as quickly as possible.

Finally, the man seems to give in. “Ravello is a long drive. 125 euro. We take--”

Shawn slaps his Visa down so fast the man stops abruptly and stares at him. He sees a tinge of crazy in Shawn’s travel-weary eyes. He fights the urge to roll his own and books the trip.

+

Shawn had hoped he’d start to relax in the car since at least then he’d know he was heading somewhere. There was no relaxing to be done.

His driver Giorgio seems to have gotten his start in Formula One. Shawn figures he should be grateful, given that the speed they’re driving at will probably cut the travel time in half. But he can’t help but wonder about the headlines if he dies in a fiery crash against the side of an Italian coastal mountain.

Pop Superstar Shawn Mendes Dies In Search Of Love, Giorgio to Blame

Shawn Mendes Perishes At The Height Of His Career, Unrecognizably Mangled

Shawn Mendes Is An Idiot, Fatally

He’s so sure there’s no way they’ll make it between the two trucks Giorgio decides to squeeze them through, but they do. Shawn slams his eyes shut and focuses on the Cez-approved meditation breathing exercises that, by the way, do not save you from your crazy Italian driver who almost plows into the back of a Peugeot going god knows how fast on the E45.

But at least he points out Mount Vesuvius. And doesn’t crash them into it.

They lose sight of the ocean for a while, which makes Shawn panic. The guy isn’t using a GPS, claims he knows every corner of every town on the Amalfi Coast. That sounded a lot better to Shawn before he got in the car, before they were winding through something called the “Riserva Statale Valle delle Ferriere,” which seems as good a place as any to ditch a body.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

It’s a chant in his head until, by some miracle, he catches sight of the water again and it’s exactly like every Instagram travel post he’s ever seen of the Amalfi Coast. He thanks whatever god there is, and thanks Giorgio, too, who grunts.

Ravello, Shawn’s not surprised to report, is fucking beautiful. Cliffs appear out of nowhere and spill off down bleached white coastline to crystalline turquoise water. It’s a goddamn postcard. The town, from what he can see of it from above, is a scattered board of colorful post-its clinging to the side of a mountain. His hungry brain tells him he can smell fresh pasta and seafood, but he knows it’s just an illusion of a man who ate half an airplane meal and a couple stale biscotti several hours ago.

Rather than descend toward the coast, Giorgio winds him around the hills past farms of lemon trees. The sun hangs low. Shawn thanks his lucky stars that he’s not having to deal with locating this place in the dark.

Giorgio stops at the base of a dirt road sporting a sign with Mia’s address. Shawn practically flings himself out of the car, almost forgetting his backpack. He shoves his Tom Ford sunglasses on against the harsh snap of the late afternoon sun. He looks around. Along the dirt path, hardly even a road, are rows upon rows of grape vines. It seems the house name is literal after all. He’ll be sure to tell Silver if he makes it out of this alive.

He starts walking.

It’s a trudge, really, up a reasonably steep hill. He slips once or twice and puts a knee into the dust, kicking up a froth of it around him that clings to his sweaty skin and white t-shirt. By the time he finds Mia, he’s going to look like he swam and crawled all the way to her. 

Good.

He crests the hill to find… more hills. There are a series of large buildings that don’t look anything like homes, more like warehouses or farmhouses. Given that it’s not yet harvest season, only a few hands are out tending the vines. He descends towards them, probably looking as ridiculous as he ever has in his life.

They seem to want to ignore him. It’s a habit of Italian men, maybe. He has to wave and walk straight up to the closest figure, an older, shorter man with only a few teeth to speak of.

“Ciao. Uh… Mia Bianchi?”

Shawn hopes if she’s the lady of the house, they’ll know to take him to her. The man stares back blankly.

“Uh… dove… Mia Bianchi?” he tries again. The man looks over his shoulder at his coworkers, who’ve stopped to stare at the tall, sunburnt Canadian idiot. Shawn sighs.

He doesn’t even have a picture to show them. She’s the love of his stupid life and he doesn’t even have a picture of her.

Except that he does. He has a lot of them. Black and white and sparkling. And completely inappropriate to be sharing with a bunch of strange farmhands. He grunts and reaches for his phone anyway, nearly dead, just like his chances of making this stupid romantic gesture work.

Shawn zooms in carefully to just her face and shows it to the smaller man. He squints and attempts to touch the screen, but Shawn nearly slaps his hand away.

“Dove Mia Bianchi?” he almost whines.

One of the younger hands strides up and glances at the picture. He exchanges a few words with the others and looks Shawn over. He sighs and nods at a golf cart a few yards away, then walks towards it.

Shawn blinks, then follows.

If nothing else, it’s a faster way to get over the hills. Plus, if he’s on the vineyard, she can’t be far, right?

“Mia?” Shawn asks, eyes wide and hopeful.

The guy shrugs. It’s not very comforting. But Shawn’s out of options, so he gets in the cart.

The hills just keep going. After about ten minutes of cruising along and over them with nothing but vines in sight, he’s suddenly incredibly grateful for the ride. He glances over at his driver, seemingly much more sane than Giorgio.

“Shawn,” Shawn says, pointing to himself with a flat smile and a little wave.

The man nods. “Maurizio.”

“Grazie, Maurizio,” Shawn grunts, sitting back as they ascend another, steeper hill. He worries for a moment about the possibilities of this golf cart skidding back down from whence it came. It becomes unimportant when they reach the peak and he sees a house.

Well, it’s not just a house. It’s practically a palace. From behind it, he can see the way it sprawls over tens of thousands of square feet. There’s a pool, he thinks, and a few different gardens, and it looks like a grove of trees, maybe olive or citrus, he’s not sure. At some point, the path turns from dirt to pebbles and the ride gets louder. It almost drowns out Shawn’s heartbeat in his ears.

Maurizio slows under the shade of two old stone pine trees and turns up a narrow path lined by lush, well-tended gardens replete with color. He takes the curve around the fountain in the center of the path slow enough for Shawn to notice the detailing. The basin of the fountain is held up by a sculpture of a renaissance-style naked woman. Curled against her, with his arm around her hips, is a man helping her hold it up. His face is tucked tenderly into her neck.

The cart stops. Maurizio clears his throat. Shawn stands and steps off.

“Uh, grazie!” he calls as Maurizio starts to gun it back down the path. Maurizio looks back at him and laughs in a way Shawn doesn’t need translated.

You’re a fucking idiot.

Shawn sighs for the millionth time that afternoon. He knows.

It’s golden hour on the coast. Behind the red tiled roof, the sun spills marigold light everywhere it touches, including the belltower on the chapel beside the main house. Green shudders flap gently in the evening breeze. The front door is wide open. The smell of fresh bread has Shawn’s mouth filling with saliva. He starts to head toward the door when he hears something.

Off to the left, down a grassy footpath, he follows it. It’s as familiar to him now as her perfume, as the feeling of her hair in his fingers, as the smile she gives him when he’s very good for her.

He’d know Ol’ Blue Eyes anywhere now.

It’s one of his Italian tracks, playing off a turntable parked in another open door on the side of the house. He drops his bag beside it, smiling when he hears pruning shears and quiet steps. The record sleeve reads “Come Back to Sorrento.”

He takes a deep breath and follows the sound of the shuffling steps. Sinatra’s voice fades as Shawn nears a small grove of olive trees. The grass below his feet is dappled with shade and the streaming sunset light. A breeze rustles a wave of red fabric out behind the trunk of a tree toward the back of the grove. 

Shawn holds his breath, watching a long bronzed leg follow it, stepping backward, then another. She’s on her tiptoes, barefoot in a deeply red mid-length sundress, the cap sleeves fluttering around her arms that follow her focused eyes to the branches above her head. She hasn’t spotted him yet. He could still run. He doesn’t have to stand here until she throws her pruning shears at his head for showing up at her family home unannounced in fucking Italy.

Mia turns her head to check on another branch and he lands in her periphery. Her lips part. Her eyes blow wide like saucers. The shears fall by her feet. She lowers off her toes to face him. The wrap dress hugs her everywhere he’d like to.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, lifting a hand into her hair just as another breeze picks up around them, lifting her dress around her knees to wave at him.

“So… uh… ciao,” Shawn nearly chokes.

+

Mia just stares for a minute. It feels like forever since she’s seen him, even if it’s only been a couple weeks.

He’s fucking glorious even covered in dirt. His hair is a little matted and sweaty, like he was wearing a hat. His white shirt clings to him. His black jeans have patches of dirt on the knees that give her flashbacks to the day she took him to Malibu in her Aston Martin. She shivers.

“What-- I mean, how… I don’t…”

“Silver told me you quit,” he blurts.

Mia’s eyes seem to swell again, then shut as she groans. “She gave you the address.”

“Yeah. I think… I think maybe she wanted you to want to see me.”

Mia chews on the inside of her lip. Another breeze tickles through the olive branches, surrounding them with a light earthy scent. Shawn shifts anxiously on his feet.

“So you just… showed up,” Mia murmurs. It’s a statement of fact, expressionless. She doesn’t sound annoyed or surprised or, to Shawn’s slight disappointment, pleased. But he knew better than to expect that. Or he thinks he should have.

Shawn shrugs. “I think after everything you’ve done for me, you deserve the effort.”

Mia’s lips tuck in slightly at the corners. She nods down at her feet. “Effort, huh?”

Shawn fights the urge to reach for her, even though it feels right. He wants to do this delicately.

Patience. That’s what Silver told him. If there’s anyone besides Mia he should be listening to right now, it’s Silver.

“I came because I want to talk to you. About everything.” His voice sounds impressively calm to his own ears, even as he feels his hands shake.

Mia looks up and immediately past him into the kitchen. She cards a fluttering strand of hair behind her ear and clears her throat.

“I have extra towels. You can clean up in the guest bath.”

She swerves around him and into the house. He stands there in the grove for a moment or two, blinking after her.

+

He’s not knocked out, he’s just… regrouping. That’s what Shawn decides in the shower as he scrubs the salty sweat from his hair and watches reddish dust swirl down the drain.

He was struck dumb when she led him up the stairs to one of what looks like many guest rooms. She got him a fluffy towel and showed him how to work the faucet because it’s a bit tricky. She turned and left without another word.

Shawn didn’t have a speech prepared or anything, he didn’t write a sonnet on the long trudge up to the house, but he didn’t expect her to shut down as soon as he started getting into it, whatever it was going to be. That took the wind out of his sails.

He’s not giving up. Not yet. If after a real conversation she says she does not love him and wants him out of her house, he’ll go. He’ll hold his head high and leave, knowing he put his heart on the line. And he’ll be ok.

Shawn’s breath shakes. He blinks quickly under the spew of warm water above his head. He plants a hand against the wall for stability. It’s the first time he’s let himself think about it, really consider the idea. What if he really actually made all this up in his head? What if she’s really as good as what he pays for and feels nothing for him beyond a professional sort of fondness? Or perhaps worse, what if she’s had feelings, but they’re not enough?

He closes his eyes and slowly scrubs his face with his pruny hands. He’s conspicuously been in the shower a long time. He bets she doesn’t mind -- gives her time to strategize.

Shawn lifts his head and turns off the faucet. He doesn’t want her strategies or her carefully delivered lines. He wants her.

He wants Mia as much as he wants Penny.

+

For once, Mia does something that would make the former owner of this home, her great grandmother, very proud. She sets aside her panic, confusion, irritation and angst and prepares for a guest.

She sets the table. She decants a bottle of Castello di Ama chianti. She hauls the record player back inside and switches over to Dean Martin’s Italian Love Songs and decides not to overthink the choice. She sets to work on a quick spaghetti alla vongole with the clams she bought at the market this morning. Her homemade loaf of ciabatta rests warm in a checkered cloth on the table.

Anything to distract herself.

But then she almost lops off a finger slicing the bread. She nicks the pad of her thumb and gasps, instinctively squeezing her fingers around the wound to staunch the bleeding.

“Hold on, I’ll get a napkin.”

She turns from the counter to see Shawn in a t-shirt and sweats at the bottom of the stairs, his hair shining wet against his neck. He swipes a paper napkin off a credenza and meets her at the counter. She watches him as he checks the cut, dabs it with the paper, wraps his hand around it to apply pressure and holds it over her head.

He looks down at her. “Does it hurt?”

“No, not really,” she murmurs, sounding sheepish.

He’s closer now to her than he was before. Holding her arm over her head seems an oddly intimate gesture between two people who’ve seen and done a lot more. It’s heightened by the way he caresses her palm with his fingers. He doesn’t even seem to notice he’s doing it.

“God, I missed you so much,” he says quietly, shaking his head.

Mia aches with the returning words and lets them rattle through her bones. She’s not going to say them back.

“I really don’t know what you were thinking coming here. Did you cancel work stuff? What about the album? And the tour?”

Shawn seems unfazed. “I’m on a break before we start working on tour promo. I actually went to your house. Got worried when I didn’t see Pammy’s leash outside.”

Mia’s eyes flash with affection. “She’s… staying with Gus for a while.”

Shawn nods slowly. “I bet you miss her.”

Mia’s eyes drop. Her other hand, gripping the counter behind her to keep from grabbing at him, squeezes tighter.

“Of course. All the time.”

After another few seconds of Shawn’s intense staring and Mia’s equally intense avoidance, he lowers her hand. The small cut has stopped bleeding. He cups her palm, kissing it gently. Mia turns away.

Shawn’s head drops. He sighs.

“So. You quit.”

Mia continues slicing bread. “Yes.”

“I’m surprised. I know how happy it made you.”

Mia’s stomach swoops. The ease with which he talks about her profession still strikes her sometimes when she least expects it. He talks about it like it’s any other job, like he never for a second thought to judge her for it.

“It got too complicated. I have other things I wanted to focus on.”

She takes the freshly sliced bread to the table. He follows with the bowls of salad and pasta.

“Like what?” he chirps.

Mia grunts, irritated. “A project. It’s a charitable thing.”

He seems to decide not to push for the moment. She tucks into her bowl of pasta, eager for something to shut him up.

He hums, bobbing his head as he slurps up a bite. “This is fucking great. I didn’t know you can cook.”

She shrugs. “I’m an Italian woman, Shawn. If I can’t cook, I shame my ancestors.”

He smiles as he swallows and reaches for his wine. He looks oddly relaxed, comfortable in her favorite surroundings. It strikes her as odd, suddenly, that he’s here. She’s never brought any non-family member here before. Not even Silver. Definitely not a client.

But Shawn brought himself. He flew 12 hours and, Mia knowing the journey well, probably took trains, buses, ferries and god knows what else to arrive on her doorstep.

She has yet to truly reckon with it. She sips at her own glass and watches him look around.

“This house is incredible. It’s a family place?” he asks.

Mia swallows and nods carefully. “For a long time. My great grandmother was the last one who lived here full time. We sold the vineyard in the 90s. The rest of the estate is still ours.”

Shawn looks around at the vaulted ceilings and the rustic stucco walls and stone floors. A glass door looks out onto a vast back patio strung with twinkle lights that overlooks the acres of vineyard land that used to belong to her family. The farmhands have packed it in for the evening. There’s no one in sight all the way to the horizon, where the sun has burst into flames of pink and gold. Shawn hasn’t felt this far away in a long time.

When he looks back, Mia doesn’t bother to look away. She knows the games are over. Glancing away from his pretty face so he doesn’t catch her staring won’t work anymore. He’s not here for a game. She swallows and feels her heart in her throat.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long,” Shawn murmurs. He sits forward across the smooth oak table. The sunset light catches him through the window. It makes his intense gaze even more entrancing. Mia’s fingers twitch around her wineglass.

“Don’t apologize. I don’t think I’m ready to hear whatever it is you’re about to say.”

She watches something flicker in his eyes uncertainly. He wets his lips and seems determined to soldier on.

“Mia, I know this wasn’t the plan. For either of us. It was never supposed to become… this. But I think it’s been something real since at least Vegas. Maybe before. And I think it’s as real to me as it is to you.”

Mia’s heart sprints. She knew what he was going to say. She’s known since he showed up in her little olive grove. She’s not sure why being so close to hearing the words has her pulsating in her own skin. She shifts in her seat.

“Shawn, please…” she begins, shaking her head, “I don’t want to put you through this. I know you’re already here and… god, I still can’t believe you’re here. But I don’t want to make you say it.”

“Why?” he presses, “Why can’t I say it?”

Mia closes her big brown eyes. He misses them immediately.

“Because it’s not going to make a difference. It can’t.”

She opens her eyes when she hears his wooden chair creak. He’s sitting back, his jaw tight, his eyes still on hers. He swirls the wine in his glass absently.

“Tell me I’m crazy. Not for coming out here, not for wanting this with you, tell me I’m crazy and I imagined all of it. Tell me it was all for show, all for money. Tell me Rio wasn’t real, or your house, or my house. Fuck, tell me Vegas wasn’t real. Mia, tell me you don’t love me. Please. If it’s true, please tell me.”

It’s silent. They’re far enough up the mountain from the town of Ravello that there’s no sound but the breeze in the trees and Mia’s heartbeat in her ears. She feels her face going scarlet with every word. Her hand shakes in her lap where he can’t see it.

She sits up tall, channeling Silver, and thumbs at the base of her glass.

“Like I said, it doesn’t make a difference.”

“How could it not?” Shawn hisses. He sits forward again, his gaze imploring, “Mia, it’s the only thing that matters.”

Mia scoffs. It’s patronizing and ugly. Shawn flinches.

“We both know better than that. We’re not teenagers, Shawn. Actually, even if we were, we’d be in the same position. You’ve been very famous for a very long time. I was never an option for you the same way you’ve never been an option for me,” Mia explains, her voice quivering under her false calm.

“Jesus Christ, Mia, you’re not an option,” Shawn spits. His eyes seem to darken, or maybe it’s a trick of the fading sun, “You’re the one. You’re the fucking one.”

Mia’s eyes drift shut as they well up. She lifts her hands into her silky hair and releases a rocky sigh.

“You’re not thinking. You have to think, Shawn, not just feel. This is your whole life we’re talking about. You know I can’t just fit into it. I would be catastrophic for you. Anyone could tell you that. Andrew would be first in line, I bet.”

Shawn stands. He walks to the door and stares at the rolling hills strung with vines like Christmas lights, neat strands growing darker with the night. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“If I let Andrew tell me who I can and can’t be with, my life isn’t mine. I’ve experienced something close enough to that this summer. I know I agreed to it, I know I was complicit in the whole thing, but I’m not interested in that anymore. If that’s where I really am in my life and my career, none of this is worth it. And that’s not even about you, Mia, that’s about me. I won’t put up with that. I’d sooner fucking quit and never play a show again if it meant I couldn’t be with someone I love because of however it looks to some people.”

Mia’s chest shudders. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. I can’t live with that, please.”

He whirls on his heel and stares at her, eyes hot. “Don’t say what? That I’d give it up for you if I had to? Fuck, Mia, of course I would. What kind of fucking human being would I be if I picked being famous over the person that I love?”

“Stop, please,” Mia begs, shaking her head, pressing her face into her hands.

She hears him shuffle over the stone to her. His fingers are gentle as they pry her hands off her face. He cups her wrists, massaging them slowly.

“Hey,” he whispers, the aggression in his voice gone as quickly as it came, “It doesn’t matter. That’s not our reality, it doesn’t have to be. I don’t have to make that choice, so neither do you.”

Mia’s lower lip quivers. “Shawn, I don’t think you realize what would really happen if you stood up in front of the whole world and told them you love a whore.”

Shawn releases her hands. The corners of his lips turn down. His eyes are hard and somehow cracked.

“Don’t do that. Don’t say that. I know you don’t even believe that. You’ve never thought of yourself like that, I know you haven’t. You know you’re so much more than that.” His voice grows louder as he continues until he’s shouting.

Her brow furrows. “You don’t know! You don’t know anything! The things I’ve done, the things I’ve said, the things I’ve had done to me. Shawn, if you had an inkling of the depraved… fuck. If you had any idea at all, you wouldn’t be saying this. You probably wouldn’t come near me ever again.”

“Are you trying to scare me?” he barks back, his eyebrows lifting, “Really? Fine. I’ll call that bluff. I’ll sit here with you all night if you want. Tell me everything. Every filthy detail. Sorry, Mia, it’s not that fucking easy. I won’t love you any less.”

“You can say that now! You don’t know, Shawn! You don’t even know me. What do you know? You know my dog, you know my music taste, sure, you know my name. What if everything Penny did was a lie? What if you love a ghost?”

Shawn goes cold. He stiffens all over. She watches it from his eyes down. She freezes in place.

“Don’t try to tell me I love something that isn’t real,” he breathes. There isn’t even a hint of uncertainty in his face or voice. Mia looks down at her feet.

Shawn steps forward again. Slowly, gently, he cups his hands around her neck, his thumbs working softly into her jaw.

“We can talk about image and PR and logistics. We can talk about Andrew and the headlines and the future. But don’t insult me, honey. I know what’s in front of me. I know what I love. I love you. I love you, I love you. We can talk about the rest, but we can’t talk about that. That’s real and it’s not up for discussion.”

Mia’s eyes close, pressing the building tears down her cheeks. Her head lowers in defeat. Shawn’s hands skim down her shoulders to her upper arms. He plants his lips on top of her head and breathes. Two deep inhales, two deep exhales. Then he steps away and heads back up the stairs.

+

Neither of them sleeps that night. He’s in the guest room down the hall from her master suite. At around 3am, she gives up altogether and sits out on her balcony under the crescent moon wrapped in a chenille blanket. She’s convinced that inside she can hear him breathe. 

Meanwhile he sits at the end of his bed, sheets half torn off from his tossing and turning, begging for words. He’s never had to beg before. His artistic, lyrical brain has handed them to him his whole life. Those aren’t the words he needs now. He needs the ones that will convince her.

+

When she wakes up, he’s downstairs in a t-shirt and boxers. His hair is sticking up everywhere. He’s staring hopelessly at her espresso machine. She knows he hears her come down the stairs, but he doesn’t turn around.

Silently, Mia arrives by his side. She presses a few buttons until the machine starts to whir. She reaches up to the cabinet above her and pulls down two tiny espresso cups. When she hands him one, their fingers touch. They both nearly jolt apart.

She spends the morning outside. She gets her white sundress filthy picking citrus off the trees. She hauls baskets and baskets full up to the porch. Each time she brings one up, it disappears and ends up on the counter, but she never sees Shawn move them.

At lunch, he smells more seafood. She glistens with sweat over a deep dutch oven full of hot oil, frying calamari. He slices lemons and opens the bottle of white she has on the counter, pouring them glasses. They eat silently, picking at their salads, letting Rosemary Clooney’s voice do their talking. When he finishes, Shawn looks at Mia. Mia looks up at Shawn. He takes her hand and guides it to his lips, a silent thank you. She lets him touch her for five seconds before she pulls away and heads back out to the lavender garden. When she comes back for dinner, the kitchen is clean and the fruit is stored in the butler’s pantry.

She roasts a chicken with rosemary and thyme, along with some potatoes and carrots and lets him rest his hand on her knee while they finish a bottle of wine.

“I found a guitar upstairs,” he confesses, chewing his wine-stained lower lip.

She glances over at him. “My grandfather’s. It’s old and shitty but yours to use if you want it.”

He nods appreciatively, rubbing his thumb into her warm skin. She aches to rest her fingers on his pulse, just to prove he’s really there.

That night, they clean up together. He walks her to her room and kisses her cheek. She doesn’t hear his footsteps walk away from her door for a long minute after she closes it.

His gentle plucking of the guitar from down the hall puts her to sleep.

+

She’s gone when Shawn wakes up. He lets himself panic for only a minute or two. All her stuff is still here, and this is her house, after all. She returns around lunch in an old pickup truck with bags from the market. Eggs, cream, cocoa, fresh mascarpone. She announces she’s making tiramisu for after their branzino dinner. She smiles a little, tentatively, and it nearly makes him fall at her feet.

Neither of them seems interested in disappearing today the way they did the day before. They hover near each other, rotating positions, swirling like opposing magnets. Shawn keeps the guitar close. Once he gets it in tune, it doesn’t sound too bad. He works on a melody. He thinks it must be good because she’s humming along in the kitchen while she prepares a batch of limoncello and rosemary gelato. 

(He doesn’t know what army she’s cooking for, but he just hopes he gets to be a part of it.)

He finishes the song that afternoon, pacing around the lavender garden with a sprig of it tucked behind his ear. When he’s satisfied and turns to head inside around sunset, he clocks her on a balcony above looking very settled, like she’s been there a while. She’s far enough up that she didn’t hear it, so she must’ve just been watching him.

They eat in silence -- branzino with lemon, citrus salad, arugula with balsamic, then tiramisu for dessert. They nearly finish two bottles of wine, like they’re both preparing to get mouthy. Shawn goes first.

“I think I knew when I bought the necklace. Like, I don’t know how I knew, but I knew. I knew what it would mean to you to have that. I wanted so badly to give you something as meaningful as what you’ve given me.”

Mia stiffens at the sudden conversation after a long drought. She recovers quickly, thanks to the wine.

“What I gave you was sex, Shawn. A lot of it. Really good sex that required you to make no decisions, gave you no responsibility. I took care of you in a way you’ve never been taken care of before.”

His eyes flash and Mia regrets her words immediately.

“If you really think I don’t know the difference between sex and love by now, you must think I’m a fucking moron.”

Mia’s chest deflates as she sighs. “I don’t think you’re a moron.”

“Are you sure? Because you’re treating me like one,” he jabs, draining his wine. She misses his heavy, warm hand on her knee when he stands and starts pacing back and forth in front of the table.

Mia stares at him, tensed with every word she won’t let herself say, every feeling she’s been beating back for months. Her spine aches. Her brain swims. Her mouth is dry.

Shawn stops suddenly so that his boot skids a little on the stone floor. Mia blinks quickly.

He stands in front of her, staring. Slowly, without moving his eyes from hers, he lowers to his knees, turning her in her seat to face him. Having his hands on her again makes her want to scream. She waits, holding her breath.

“I just need you to say it. Please. I know you don’t think it’s enough, so it can’t hurt, right? Because there’s a part of me, the piece I hate, the piece I’ve always hated and that’s always hated me that still wants to convince me it’s not true. So please, please, just once, just say it. Say it if it’s true.”

Mia’s knuckles are white as she grips her chair. They feel oddly detached and wiry when she pries them up, flexes them, and sieves them into his hair. His eyes shut. He lowers his head to rest in her lap. She takes a deep breath.

“I love you, Shawn Mendes.”

+

Mia’s on the counter in an oversized t-shirt, swinging her feet, eating limoncello and rosemary gelato out of the freezer bowl. Shawn stops at the bottom of the stairs and smiles at her. His love for her gets so big it feels ready to explode out of his ears.

He shuffles up to lean beside her at the counter with the extra spoon she offers. They eat quietly, smacking their lips.

“So what’s the charity project?”

He catches her off guard while she puts away the rest of the ice cream. She stands upright, a little too straight, then catches herself and forces herself to relax.

“Uhm… it’s an idea I had a long time ago. A non-profit sort of thing for La Splendeur. A way to look out for the girls that are working jobs like mine but on the street. It’s always seemed so arbitrary to me, you know? The women that wind up as courtesans making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year flying all around the world doing the same thing that women standing on street corners do, constantly putting their lives in danger. Sex work is so odd that way.”

Shawn nods thoughtfully. “How can you help them?”

He watches her brighten a little, scooping hair behind her ears as she explains.

“Resources make all the difference. Women like that end up there because they don’t have resources. We can provide shelter, safety, rehabilitation if necessary. We can start a scholarship fund. We can offer career counseling and interview practice and resume building. Or we can help them organize and stay safe so they don’t end up with pimps. They just need help, and money can provide a lot of that.”

He bobs his head, clearly interested. “So where does the money come from?”

“Philanthropists and investments. Between Silver and I, our network is pretty vast. A lot of the donors will likely prefer to remain anonymous because of the nature of it, but we only need a couple powerful people that would speak up and draw attention. If they say it’s ok to care, it’s ok to care. Julia Granger and Christian Becker could be those people.”

Shawn cracks a smile. “So where are you in all this?”

Mia smiles back, infected by the pride written all over his face. “Silver and I are finalizing the paperwork for the creation of the non-profit. We’ll start approaching investors formally when I get home.”

Shawn ducks his head, turning his enormous, goofy smile down at his feet. “That’s incredible, Mia.”

His voice is gentle, touched. She tingles all over. She wants to run into his arms just to feel them around her again. She locks her own around her chest instead.

“Th-thank you. It’s been a long time coming.”

They lock eyes again. The air sizzles.

Mia smiles sadly. The silence is pregnant with potential headlines written about the Canadian golden boy loving the whore who wants to help the whores. Shawn scrabbles for words to fight them off but comes up choked and huffing breath.

He watches her disappear outside, heading for the vineyard.

+

The bottoms of Mia’s feet are nearly black. She takes a sick sort of pleasure in it. It makes her feel like a kid again, she guesses. Reminds her of chasing Peter around the gazebo, skinning knees, playing “scuba divers” in the pool while their family ate and drank and sang, happier in Ravello than they ever were in New Jersey.

She sits on the swing beneath the pergola, listening to him sing now. The house is so much quieter than it used to be, but no less filled with love. It’s a different kind of love. And despite their desperation to beat it away, it gets stronger every second. Shawn is the strong one, the brave one, she thinks, letting it into his heart before she could. 

Because it’s not like he’s not scared. She knows he is. She can hear it in his voice and see it in the way he holds himself around her. He can’t know what would happen if they made it real -- could they last? Could they manage to see past all the bullshit the papers would surely print and hold on? If they did, would their love be worth anything after all the bulletholes and sharp words?

She hugs her knees to her chest and closes her eyes, leaning into his melody. She has the song memorized now. He keeps playing it the same way like he’s planning on changing something but never does. She already knows it’s perfect.

It’s a love song about tortured yearning, a hidden love, a love that’s bursting, searching for the sunlight. Mia thinks it’s his best ever. She considers herself biased.

After the sun sets, she heads inside. He’s not really playing anymore, just kind of plucking away. She needs to think about getting dinner ready. He’s sweet, offering to cook, since she does so much of it, but she really loves cooking Italian food with Italian ingredients in Italy and won’t think of wasting an opportunity. Plus, she still loves taking care of him.

The stairs to the wine cellar are cool, worn stone. The cellar is built into the foundation of the house, which was once part of a fortress that stood on their property in the 11th century. Now lined with shelves of hundreds of bottles of every variety of Italian wine, it’s one of Mia’s favorite spots.

His footsteps are quiet, too. He’s adopted her barefoot lifestyle. He stops at the bottom of the stairs.

Facing the wall of dolcettos from the 80s, Mia twirls a finger around a protruding bottle, covered in dust, with a foil cap.

“I used to hide down here when Peter and I played hide and seek. For some reason he never thought to look down here. I always thought it was so obvious.”

Shawn steps closer, hands in the pockets of his jeans, shoulders slightly hunched.

“Maybe he wanted to let you win.”

Mia smirks, looking over her shoulder at him. “Maybe.”

She turns, her arms crossed behind her back, leaning against a shelf. He fixes his eyes on hers, biting the inside of his lip.

“I’m not… I mean, I’m not saying it would be easy,” Shawn murmurs, rubbing at the back of his sunburnt neck, “I know better than anyone how it all works. I don’t want you to think I’m just ready to throw us both to the wolves. I wouldn’t do that to you or to us. I just want to talk about it, for real. I… I know we’re worth it, honey.”

Mia’s chest inflates. She tilts her eyes up at the low ceiling. Her tears start hot and fast.

“I could be the thing that ruins everything you worked so hard for. I don’t want that for either of us. I’m not sorry about who I am or what I’ve done, despite what I’ve said. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to be ripped apart publicly for it. That kind of attention puts more pressure on a relationship than either of us is really prepared for. You have to know that.”

Shawn nods slowly. “I do. I know. I don’t want that for you or for me. But I don’t think that’s the only outcome possible. I think this would take a lot of thought and discussion about what we’re both comfortable with. And it’s going to take some of both of us… letting go a little. Which I know isn’t your favorite thing.” He looks at her pointedly, the corner of his mouth lifting.

Mia chuckles for the first time in days. “Point taken.”

Shawn senses cracks in the veneer with the way she’s looking at him now, like she actually might be considering it, all of it. For him. With him.

He takes a chance, and takes her hand.

“And the most important thing is we go at our own pace. We… I mean, obviously, we’ve done and seen a lot already. And I know I have so much left to learn about you. We can focus on that first, just getting to know each other more. I know how to make a relationship really loud, but I know how to keep it quiet, too. If that’s what you want.”

She looks down at their entwined fingers. She blinks quickly and feels her heart rate pick up, like her body knows something her mind hasn’t decided yet. She swallows and looks back up at him.

“I’ve never been both Penny and Mia with one person before. Because I know I am both. Penny’s as much a part of me as Mia is. I got good at letting them share my body because they never inhabited it at the same time. I’m still trying to figure out how that’s supposed to work. How I’m going to be caretaker and businesswoman, domme and girlfriend. I don’t know how to be someone who wants to be honest and upfront about my history and also wants a big white wedding and a couple kids. So if I don’t know how to do that, be that, how can you know and love that about me?”

Shawn’s smile is cautious but warm. He scoops up her other hand and cradles them close to his chest. He’s not afraid of showing her how his heart is clanging around in his chest. She’s had a piece of it in her body for a while now.

“Because it’s you, Mi. Whether or not you’ve meant to, you’ve let me know both. I’ve loved both this whole time. I just want the chance to be there with you as you figure it out.”

Mia looks up at him. She thinks about the night they met -- watching him come completely undone, taking a sip from his glass, waking up to see him slam his eyes shut to pretend he wasn’t watching her. She sees the same look of wonder in his eyes now as he looks down at her, all of her. Mia always knew she was worth loving. Having someone else figure that out was always the part she wasn’t sure of. But she’s sure now. He is, too.

Mia pulls her hands from his, sliding them up his chest. She plucks at the curls at the back of his neck, tugging him closer as she presses back against the shelf. Shawn’s breath hitches in his chest. His hands fall to her hips.

Mia nods, no words of protest left. His lips are gentle against hers, confident and calm. She lets him take the lead this time.

--------------

Grazie mille 💜

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[who-is-olivia]

Track 10. From the Dining Table

Harry Styles x OC

Harry struggles with loneliness after Olivia refuses to answer his calls. [2.4k]

Genre: angst

Warnings: substance abuse, sexual language

 December 2016

  He calls her one more time. It beeps, beeps, beeps and it ends up on mail. It must be the tenth message he sends but he does so anyway.

“Hey love, it’s me again. We haven’t spoke since you went away and I hate this silence, if you don’t want to talk to me can I at least know why?” he begs to the cold phone, hunching over his knees with a hand holding back his hair. “I know I was an asshole, I’m so so sorry, but I want to talk. Can you please call me? Even if it’s just to shout at me and call me names? I love you”

  He wipes the corners of his eyes, not in shame, just to avoid his mates asking what’s going on. Harry leaves the waiting room and walks in the studio where Ryan and Mitch are tweaking his recording of Two Ghosts. The album is almost done, they only miss a couple more songs to close the set. As he sits beside Mitch, he notices his friend’s worried gaze as if he could hear his failed attempts through the acoustic protection.

“Nothing?” he asks.

“Just silence” Harry sighs and Mitch pats his leg in comfort.

“Why don’t you go to New York?”

“I don’t know if she’s there, she could be with her grandma in New Orleans or Rio, she could be in London, I wouldn’t know”

“She’s not answering my texts either” Mitch replies. It’s as if, overnight, Olivia vanished from the face of the Earth. “Not even Frank”

  He leaves the studio late and walks back to his hotel. A few fans stop him on the way, he’s not on the mood to be his usual cheerful self but he still obliges when they ask for pictures. One of them has a t-shirt with her album cover, when he looks up he’s almost speechless.

“You okay?” she asks, a mix of elation and awkwardness.

“Yeah, you just... remind me of someone”

“Olivia, right? I get that a lot” she laughs, “There was a time I copied her braids, people stopped me in the streets for pictures”

This time, he chuckles as well. Oli loves taking pictures, it appeals so much to her vanity it’s exhausting. She’s not a very sympathetic person when it comes to interacting with strangers, but she always made her fans an exception. “That’s crazy”

“Can you send her a picture of me? I’m a huge fan”

At her request his weak smile falters. He’d love to send her a picture but she won’t notice it, she won’t reply, she won’t care. “Of course”

He politely takes a picture with her and pretends to send it to Oli. “Thank you so much”

“Do you live nearby?”

“No, I’m staying at the Hilton, I’m actually from Mexico”

“So am I! I mean, staying at the Hilton, I’m quite British” she laughs at his clumsy excuse, “Do you want me to walk you back, maybe get a few drinks?”

“Sure!”

  He tried to forget her, he tried to drown away his sorrow and sleep with someone else to fix the problem but he failed pitifully. His drunken haziness only caused him to sob over someone, and looking at her likeness made it even worse. He wasn’t struggling for the lack of sex, that’d be easy to fix, he misses her entirely, body and soul. He misses her company, her weird insights, her particular taste for rom-coms and the strange foods she smuggles from her hometown. He misses her touch, the texture of her collarbones and the way her hair smells in the morning, he misses the stargazing and the way her eyes shine like a dark sky with a single star...

  When he wakes up the morning after, her twin fan is sleeping on his bed while he gets up from the couch. She’s dressed from head to toe, only her shoes are stored nicely in a corner. By the time, he’s already missed a fine amount of working hours in the studio. A text from Mitch begs him to stay at the hotel and try to work himself out, better than sniffle over his shoulder while he tries to work. He works his dizzy way to the bed and pokes the young woman.

“Oli... I-I mean...” he steps away, trying to recover her name somewhere in his drunken mind. “Luna?”

“Hm?” she rubs her eyes open.

“Hey” he strokes her arm clumsily, “Morning. I might need to leave in a few minutes, you’re a guest here right?”

“Oh, yes” she gets up in a stretch. “I’m so sorry”

“It’s alright, thank you for last night”

“It was nothing” she recalls him laying on her lap bawling his eyes out as she tries to comfort him the best she can. “I hope you figure yourself out”

“Thank you” he pulls her in for a friendly hug and walks her to the door.

  Now that he’s alone, he takes his phone again to no avail. She won’t answer, she won’t even listen to his voicemail. He then googles her name to search for recent news, the most recent one is about Frank’s new affair and his sister’s approval, the last one indicating her location is three months old, when she joined him in Jamaica. He checks her social media, Frank’s, all her former bandmate’s but when he least expects it, he finds a clue.

  Her friend Matty, who he hasn’t seen in months, posted a photo wearing one of Harry’s old t-shirts, a white one he wore to a Burberry fashion show. Without a second thought, he reaches out.

“‘ello? Who’s this?”

“Hey, it’s Harry, Harry Styles” he immediately regrets the call. It is a stupid idea, he shouldn’t be intruding.

“Oh, hey! Sorry, didn’t recognize your voice”

“I’m sorry... listen chap, I need to ask you something and you might find it weird but when was the last time you saw Olivia?”

He ponders for a moment, “She came by when her tour began last year, but we haven’t talked much ever since” Harry sighs in defeat, “But I saw Frank last weekend when I was in LA”

“Weird, I just saw a picture of you with a shirt just like mine-“

“It probably is, I got it from Frank” he shuts his eyes in realization. Of course, Frank is like a damn vampire, only he takes his peer’s clothes. “He stole a shirt from me, thought I’d do the same to him”

“Did he mention anything about Oli at all?”

“No, she said she’s just fine... but he was weird about it, I could tell” Matty confesses, always prizing his truthfulness.

“I see... cheers mate, sorry for the weird questions”

“No problem, let me know if you need anything”

  Another finished phone call, another silence. He hates the silence, all that’s left in silence are his troubled thoughts. Slowly he falls back to sleep thinking about her, dreaming of their home in New York, Oli waking up early to water the plants as he played the guitar in the garden, making dinner together, napping together at their studio’s couch after a long day of work. He wakes up a bit lost and finds his writing journal few inches away from a pool of wine he accidentally spilled last night. He hoisters the journal carefully but lets something fall in that puddle: a map.

“No, no no no” he picks it up and runs to the bathroom pressing the white towels against the paper. He unfolds the thing and stares in slight relief as the whole thing wasn’t too affected. That map of New York has so many precious memories recorded on it, her handwriting is all over the place. He finds the spot east of Central Park where she marked with a circle and wrote ‘home’.

  He wants to go home, he wants to relive their good moments and make new ones. Every piece of poetry in that book somehow reminds him of her. There’s the one describing how he felt after their vacation in Rio, when he got to see her interacting with the place she grew up on. She was so fulfilled, so joyful... He had then rented a penthouse across the street from the beach where they could see the whole coastline. They’d wake up in bliss, make love all morning and spend hours just on pillow talk. Then he’d take her to the sea and hold her legs around his waist, leaning to kiss her between the waves, her touch light on him. He called the poem “Waves in Her Eyes”, he never felt like making it a song, just a good reverie.

  One of his favorites, “Spotlight”, is about watching her perform. She feels so in sync with her music, it’s like she’s possessed by it. He always idealized her when he saw her onstage, after all she looked other-worldly beautiful, but coming off stage that side of her disappeared and she was just Oli: playful, simple, charming Oli. He remembers watching her practice when she’d spend the weekends in his flat in London, one earpod giving her the playback as he could only hear her powerful low-pitched voice roaring the melodies.

  He dozes off quite often, waking up randomly to read another poem, drink some wine and doze off again. When it’s noon, he picks up the phone to no messages of her.

“Hey Oli, it’s me again. This is getting old, but I just want to talk to you... You’re so fucking complicated, ay? Why won’t you ever say what you wanna say?” he spits bitterly but immediately regrets it. “Sorry, in your defense, that side of you never stopped me from loving you. I do it almost like breathing. But now... I know I’ve fucked up, but so did you. I’ll never give up on us but I’m tired of apologizing to silence, maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry too... who am I kidding, you never do, do you?”

  He loses track of the days he’s spent in the hotel room. One evening, Mitch comes around with his guitar to play something he’s working on but Harry barely clocks in.

“This is a bunch of shit” Mitch groans, looking around the place.

“Sorry mate, I’m not really in the mood for it”

“By the looks of it, your mood is only self-pity and wine. I could agree with wine but self-pity isn’t cool”

“I’ve never felt less cool, Mitch” Harry sighs.

“Fuck’s sake... Harry, go to New York”

“She might not be there-“

“She might be” he counters, willing to play cup half-full if it gets his friend out of this mess.

“I have to finish the album”

“You’re not finishing the album like this”

“I’ll write you something, I promise” he insists, the album is the last string he has grounding him to her world, he needs to finish it.

“Don’t force yourself to it, do what you want whenever you want it. I’ll be right here pal”

“Thanks Mitch”

  He doesn’t remember when he left, nor how he came to the hotel room in the first place, but now he finds himself at the dinning table staring down a blank page of his journal. There’s so much he feels but very little he can put into words. In his haze, he thinks about writing about a particularly steamy night they spent together. It started with them making out on the couch, but slowly their touches became more daring and things got heated. He can’t take the pen to write as he’s too busy playing with himself.

He feels disgraceful, unable to work, to leave the hotel or do anything but feel sorry for himself. But suddenly, his phone rings. In a room so doomed by silence, his ringtone feels like a needle piercing his eardrums. “Hello?”

“Harry?” Frank asks from the other end of the line, “Is that you? Are you ok?”

“How the fuck you think I am?” he answers in a fickle tone, “Why didn’t you answer my texts, I’ve been trying to talk to you for days”

“I know man, I feel awful about it”

“Where is she?” his anger simmers to a small whimper.

“She’s in New York”

“Why won’t she answer my calls?”

Frank dallies with his words trying to find the best ones for this situation, “Harry, there’s something she needs to tell you but she doesn’t know how”

“What is it?” he begs.

“I can’t tell you, I swore to her I wouldn’t”

“Ain’t that precious: she can’t tell me, you can’t tell me, I might as well just fuck off”

Frank feels the full weight of his heart-break, which is in part his fault as he couldn’t talk Olivia through her silence, but this is his only chance to atone. “Tomorrow we’ll play at Jim’s to celebrate the band’s anniversary, 9:00 pm. Your name will be on the list. Don’t miss it”

  Without further ado, he ends the call.

  Harry leaps up in a burst of energy and starts packing his stuff. With everything packed, he looks at the mess he left in the room. If Anne was in this hotel room, she’d bash him up for his behavior, so in honor of her education he makes sure to leave the place spotless. After that, he texts Frank an apology. They both fucked up, but Frank never deserved this treatment. Years of friendship have made him look at his in-law through Oli’s lens, her undying love for him is contagious.

“Hey love, if you haven’t heard any of my voicemail you won’t hear this either, but I’m coming home. What I’m doing here without you doesn’t make sense. I hope when we get to see each other we’ll figure ourselves out, ‘cause this small taste of life without you is quite miserable... anyway, we’ll sort ourselves out. I love you”

  He books himself an overnight ticket to New York and leaves, spending the whole trip trying to justify his absence to Ryan and the other producers. He can't work until he's got Oli back, or at least until they're sorted out.

  He arrives at Jim's pub almost at the end of the show, calmly strolling down the snowy streets. The doors open to a crowded hall, he has to squeeze between the guests to find a privileged spot. Once he gets it, there's nothing between him and Oli. He sighs and smiles until her eyes find his beneath the spotlight.

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Masterlist

[ais-n]

1 | more like apologise for how harmful it was? how the mlm relationships were so clearly hetero? the sex scenes were so straight to me tbh. and i say this as someone who has read the books twice. first time i didn't see what i saw the second time. i think you genuinely wanted to have people of colour representation but it's very racist to me how hsin and emilio were done. constantly called "exotic" which is a thing americans like to use so much when it's not their ethnicity.

Hi! Thanks for the detailed explanation, I appreciate it! At first I had such HIGH HOPES I could reply to all three of your asks in one place but it turns out I talked too much (go figure lol) So I’m going to do then one at a time. I did want to start out replying to one offhand comment in the 3rd ask and then I’ll get into the rest. Below is what I had written before I realized I need to split it into three and then edited out saying I’m answering all at once. For anyone who hasn’t seen all three asks yet, that’s why part of what I’m talking about isn’t represented above - anon, hopefully it makes more sense to you since you know the future right now from what you had written in the past. ....wow, I made that confusing.

++++++

Thank you for the explanation! I appreciate you too! Also you made me laugh out loud at the gay comment, so thank you for that XD You are not making me feel worse; I appreciate the courage you no doubt had to pull together to post this :) I could be wrong but if I imagine myself in your place, I imagine feeling a little scared or intimidated to post and yet feeling it is necessary. I think it’s really cool you were able to post this in such a thoughtful explanation. Thank you!

In order to not overwhelm anyone’s inbox - and to make it easier for you - I put these all together in one ask. [[[EDIT: JUST KIDDING I talk too much - this is answering stuff from each ask at a time, sorry. I put it behind a cut to make it less long on people’s dashboards.]]] 

Still, I imagine with so much I want to talk about at once, I will probably miss things so let me know if I miss something you really wanted to talk about or you wanted follow up on something in particular.

Anyway READ MORE BELOW for a probably stupidly long reply lol Just, knowing me at least….

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hi welcome to the below deck party! I don’t know why I said it that way. That was creepy sorry lol Anyway I’m breaking this up a little bit but the more I think about it the more I think this probably really can’t address everything properly in one place. So, again, seriously just let me know if you want follow up on anything - or if anyone does, for that matter. I’m not doing this quite in order though.

RACE: 

Yeah actually, I agree that “exotic” is pretty ??? terminology to be using tbh. I don’t imagine I would use that wording if I were writing something today and if we were to edit the series now, I’d remove it. I don’t remember the context, to be honest; whether it was only used in narration or if it was used in dialogue too. Dialogue might stay, if it’s to show a person speaks a certain way and has certain views on life, but I’d personally probably change that in narration unless it had a specific reason for being there. Which my very vague memories combined with your comment make me think probably not?

In regards to Hsin/Emilio plus even terminology like ‘exotic’ or whatever being used - so, upfront, I need you to know this whole post is not an excuse or etc. It’s just an explanation. 

I didn’t write Hsin or Emilio, so I honestly can’t speak for or about them. I would like to be able to give you some insight into “Sonny’s” background and his friends and family he said he was inspired by in writing them, or give you insight into Alicia’s background (as she is a person of color, at least I was always told she is), but I truly don’t even know what was a lie and what was truth anymore. He always told me his characters like Hsin and Emilio were based pretty directly on people he knew - well, Emilio in particular was hugely based on a cousin of his. But that cousin didn’t exist, it turns out, or at least not in the way I knew. We wrote our own characters and were in charge of their own stories, although we also co-wrote the series as a whole and had input on the plot and etc. But I never really dealt directly with Emilio or Hsin in the writing of them other than how my characters interacted with “his” characters.

I can’t speak on behalf of anyone so I honestly can’t say if Emilio and/or Hsin are concerning or not concerning portraitures of any demographic. I really feel that such a determination has to be up to each reader. I say that in part because I’ve heard over the years that people actually appreciated the way they were written, for various reasons, and some of the people saying that were from demographics that the characters represented. But that also doesn’t mean it has to be something across the board; that because one person feels a certain way, everyone else whether in or out of that demographic has to agree. Quite the opposite, really.

I wish I could even say something like “I know Sonny did a lot of research on xyz specific topic because we talked about abc in regards to it” but I can’t. I know we had those conversations but I don’t know if anything I was told is true. What I can say is the series was written basically 15 years ago. Or rather, started around 15 years ago, then written on/off over multiple years. And we started it essentially in the same vein as BL fanfic, just sort of as a fun thing to do on our off time without any initial plan to ever publicly share it. The good thing about humans and culture is we change as we grow, and there are many things we can continue to gain understanding of as we go. 

One of the really good things about the last 15 years is it’s become more and more accessible to learn about the world and its people. When we started ICoS, for example, Google streetview wasn’t a thing. In order to try to be accurate about something like the streets of a particular city, we either had to totally make shit up and say the war changed everything in that town or I had to try to track down a paper map of it and hope nothing had changed significantly since then. 

Slowly over the years, the globalization of information expanded. Over time, all the little details I didn’t know to even question became things I could find easily. Like, do they say W Something St or Something St W? Is it Avenue Blah or Blah Avenue? Do they even use terminology like avenue or streets? Do they commonly have alleyways everywhere or anywhere and if so how big are they? What are the roads made of? What is the lighting like? Are there basements? 

I grew up in Midwest USA on the tail end of tornado alley where a basement is an absolute must. Imagine my absolute confusion when I learned there are houses out there where they DON’T go underground. Like, at all. wtf??? From my, at that time obviously limited, experience, the only people I personally knew who didn’t have some sort of underground space were apartment dwellers or my friend who lived in the mobile home park. It was such a staple understanding in my life to assume everyone had a basement in their home that I had no idea to even question the existence of such a thing when trying to write another location within the US, let alone anywhere else in the world. And at a certain point when we were writing it, I didn’t even know to ask certain questions, or if I did I didn’t have an easy way of finding it.

If you were to read the very, very original version of Evenfall and compare it to what’s most recently released, for example, there are many differences. One example of something you might notice is the streets are totally different in Monterrey. That’s because we had to make up streets the first time around because I could not find any maps for the city. I tried but they just weren’t accessible for whatever reason; not in the detail I needed and where I could find them, or probably afford. We had to just be like “Welp, guess the war changed it all, sry!” to explain the random names and structure. But as the years passed, information spread to a minute level across the world slowly but surely. First, Google eventually had the layout of the city streets, then it had satellite imagery, then it had Google streetview, then it had people randomly uploading photos to locations, and so on. Eventually, there was enough information from big to small to feel relatively sure we could at least somewhat accurately represent the geography - not perfectly, absolutely not because we’d never been there - but an approximation that hopefully wouldn’t be too jarring for someone actually able to visit, themselves.

You may wonder why the hell I’m talking about streets in Mexico when your comment was on Hsin’s and Emilio’s characterizations, but I mention it because I look at a lot of things in writing with that same level of paranoia of wanting all the details possible to write it to try to be as accurate to at least someone’s reality as possible. That’s one reason why I haven’t written Domino, for example, which focuses on Vivienne’s life; it probably seems like it should be easy to do, and in ways it is. But I don’t feel nearly educated enough on how it would be to grow up in France in a rural then urban area with the sort of pressures she had as a young woman and with her different levels of wealth and the way she looked and etc etc to be fair to anyone who may find representation within that and to not accidentally jar them totally out of the experience by the equivalent of randomly throwing a basement in the middle of Texas because who the fuck knew Texans don’t automatically have basements in all their homes?? 

Really, with anything, there is always room for improvement - especially with anything as complex as any aspect of any demographic which inherently then serves as some form of representation for a huge variety of human beings. Humans, being complex beings themselves, will thus have an even larger variety in the way any topic can be seen. What is severely off-putting to one person might be acceptable to another. Sometimes society steps in and is like nah bro, idgaf if you’re cool with that, I’m not. And sometimes it remains so complex that it’s hard to give one exact answer.

What we tried to do was listen to feedback as we wrote and take it into account in the writing of the series itself. Also, especially later in the series, whenever possible we tried to do research as much as possible on whatever detail or topic we had going on to try to be as accurate as possible.

I’m truly not trying to skirt any sort of issue, I just don’t think I can properly say a singular reply to your concern without being unfair to different voices I’ve heard on this topic over the years. If I had never heard directly or indirectly from people that they specifically appreciate the representation of the characters, if in fact I had only ever heard concerns about them, it would be easier to say we were wrong. But I’m not part of any of the demographics so I can’t speak on behalf of any of them. Thus, I can only listen to what different people tell me, and know that regardless of what I’m told, for them that is truth and thus I respect it.

What I will say is it certainly was not the intention to upset, insult, alienate, or otherwise cause concern for anyone reading the series for anything other than the actual things intended to be fucked up like the things the characters went through and so on. I’m very sorry that the characterization is so upsetting and concerning for you. That really sucks; it takes away from the point of the story and puts you in a place that is deeply uncomfortable. I’m very sorry we put you in that position.

++

RELATIONSHIPS

Actually, I’d love to hear more what you mean by your comment. I have certain inferences I make based on what I think you mean but I don’t want to misinterpret and misrepresent your concerns.

The way I interpret “how the mlm relationships were so clearly hetero? the sex scenes were so straight to me tbh.” is maybe related to the idea of dominance vs submission? Like making an equivalence of that to masculine = dominant = power/strength = top = Hsin, and feminine = submissive = weakness = bottom = Boyd? Is that what you’re suggesting or did you mean something else? I have a lot of thoughts on this subject but, again, I don’t want to ramble on a tangent if I am totally misunderstanding what you meant. Especially since I rambled so much above.

So if you’d like to explore the topic more and would like thoughts/answers/etc just let me know in another anon ask more specifically what you mean, if you can. Thank you :)

I’ll go onto ask 2 for now - I forgot exactly what came up in that ask vs the 3rd ask so I’m not sure how long it will take me to type up a reply. Just in case I don’t finish it today, I wanted to sign this off in the meantime with I hope you’re staying healthy and safe!

[msjr0119]

Cordonian Wags

Part 7 - Mystery person

In a world full of Professional footballers and their demanding wives- can their football team nicknamed the ‘Cordonian Apples’ succeed? An American female physiotherapist joins the club. Will this cause issues with the footballers wives?

*This series is based on The Royal Romance characters who belong to Pixelberry - AU Plot switch*

Catch up on the previous chapter

Tags: @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @ibldw-main @texaskitten30 @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @whenyourheartskipsabeat @jovialyouthmusic @nz1091 @yukinagato2012 @indiacater

******

“So this is your place. It’s not what you’re used to.” The persons eyes scrutinised the tiny apartment- shocked that Riley would choose such a small scaled place to live in for the next nine months.

“Having a mansion isn’t all what it’s cracked up to be. It can make you miserable and lonely.”

“So what’s going off?”

“The first night I was here, I kissed one of the footballers. The next two nights I stupidly slept with him. His girlfriend did all this damage- I deserved it.” Riley showed the person, her ribs. Shaking her head she knew she was about to be lectured on the matter.

“It takes two to tango Ri. Don’t just blame yourself. I’m starving, shall we order some pizza?”

*****

Leo had contacted Maxwell and after constantly begging, he finally got Riley’s address out of him. Maxwell felt a sting to his heart that she would leave without informing him. Did she not trust him?

Arriving at the block, Leo had hoped that his suspicions were correct. A light is on- I knew it. About to knock on the door, a young spotty teenager arrived just gawking at Leo.

“Can I help you?”

“Oh my god. You’re.. you’re Leo Rhys. You’re my favourite player for the apples. Can I have your autograph?” The teenager said, his mouth was still agape. It was fate that he would stumble across his favourite sports person. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not.

“Kid you can have my autograph, if you allow me to deliver this pizza for you. Could I steal your hat too?”

“Erm... I don’t think my manager would approve of that.” Biting his lip, he would do anything to brag to his friends that he had met Leo Rhys but he also needed this job.

Rolling his eyes back, Leo whipped out his wallet.

“Will an autograph, a selfie and €100 make you reconsider?” This was the second time Leo had to beg someone this day.

“Yes sir.”

******

Leo put on the tight cap- not quite believing that he was degrading himself to do this. Holding the heavy bag full of piping hot food he had wondered exactly what Riley had ordered. Surely she couldn’t eat all of that to herself.

“Leo!” Riley moved closer to him and closed the door behind her.

“Care to explain?”

“Would you believe me if I said that the flight got cancelled?”

“And I’m the Virgin Mary! What’s going on? Who have you got in there? Walker?”

“I haven’t spoken to him. To be honest I don’t think I should speak to him.”

“Well then who?”

“Leo, you really don’t want to go in there.” Riley attempted to pull him away from the door, but he was too strong and eager to figure out what secret she was hiding.

“Watch me Riley! We took you to the airport behind Olivia’s back. You owe me that.”

“Leo, please!”

Leo forced his way through the door, shit Riley thought. Leo froze, he didn’t know what to expect when he stormed through the door into the quaint apartment. Sighing, Riley knew she had to do the introductions.

“This is my older sister, Lindsey. She came to visit. I didn’t want anyone to disturb us so that’s why I made it look like I was leaving. I’m so sorry Leo, I just needed her here with me after everything that has happened.”

Leo was just staring at Lindsey, she was just as attractive as Riley. Gulping he went to introduce himself to her.

“Well seen as though I’ve ended up paying over the odds for your take out, I’m inviting myself to stay.”

“What about Madeleine?”

“Fuck her. I’ll have better company here.” Winking at Lindsey.

******

Savannah was awoken, hearing screaming from the spare room. Drake!

Jumping out of bed, she immediately rushed to Drake. Opening the door, her eyes widened at him having a nightmare.

“Drake! Wake up. It’s me, Savannah.”

“Sorry Sav.”

“You were having a nightmare. Are you okay?”

“I have them every so often. I haven’t had one for a while. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising. What was it about?”

Drake stumbled out of the taxi outside his log cabin- it was his first night out after becoming injured. He had been on bed rest, Kiara being the doting girlfriend attended to his every need. Finally relieved to have had the all clear and to play football again- his team mates arranged a night out to celebrate that their midfielder attacker was back in action.

Falling over as he reached the front door- he heard it swing open with a force and more louder than usual. Kiara was stood there arms folded, shaking her head.

“You’re a disgrace! And you look scruffy! You need a haircut Drake.”

“I thought you liked the long hair and beard?”

“I said that to make you feel better about yourself. Get to bed Drake. I hope you haven’t spent a lot!”

“I will spend what I want. I earn the money Ki.”

“Well. Don’t ever go out with them again. You don’t need them to have fun. You have me and only me.”

“I have my family too- Savannah and Bartie.”

“No you don’t. I am your family Drake. She doesn’t care about you. She disappeared for god knows how long.”

“She does care about me, she had no choice.”

“As I said I’m all you need.”

Drake tried to walk to his bed, instead he crawled. He lacked the energy- the room was spinning, as if he was riding a waltzer.

“Drake! Walk will you? You’re useless.”

kicking him in the head attempting to get him to move, Drake was shook up with this unexpected move. If it didn’t have such force, as if she was taking a penalty- he could have believed that this was an accident. Kiara then dragged him up by his shirt into a sitting position leaning him against the wall. Experiencing extreme dizziness- he wasn’t sure if it was due to the alcohol or Kiara’s kick. Every step closer she made towards him, he cowered whilst she just laughed in his face. Seeing flashing lights in front of him - he felt like his brain was bumping against the back of his skull. He didn’t know who this person was- this wasn’t the Kiara he fell in love with.

“Kiara! I’m sorry. Please. I won’t ever go out with the team again. Please don’t hurt me again.”

Flinching as she came near him, he protected his face with his hands. She kissed him on his forehead- leaving him surrounded in a puddle of blood as if nothing had happened.

The morning after, Drake felt the pain due to his facial injuries. Every muscle in his body had seized up- every movement he made was jerky. He was laid in bed wearing the clothes he was wearing the previous night. Noticing a rip in his shirt, he needed to force himself to a mirror to see what other damage there could be. The top of his head was slightly bruised from where she kicked him with an almighty force, and his face contained spots of dried up blood. Drake began crying, possibly more than when dad passed away. The sadness in his eyes, slowed his speech down.

“I hope you learnt your lesson Drake. I love you. It’s just you and me, remember.”

“That was the first time she became someone I didn’t know. I keep having flashbacks from different situations. I’m sorry.” Savannah had tears in her eyes, thinking about how Kiara could potentially abuse him in so many different ways in such a short time.

“How about you and I watch a rom com, pig out on Ben and Jerry’s? Who needs sleep anyway?”

“Rom com? Where everyone’s love life is perfect. No, thank you.”

“Tv series then? I’ll let you choose.”

Savannah cuddled up next to Drake after raiding her fridge freezer for junk food. They stayed awake laughing at the tv, Drake was grateful for his baby sister helping him feel loved again.

****

The morning after Riley was knackered, Leo did infact invite himself to stay- Riley assumed it was just for food. Instead he stayed and got laid, Riley would never be able to look at him or her sister straight again. Both Riley and Leo was included in a group text.

“Do not respond! Please. I don’t want anymore shit occurring before the match tomorrow. Please Leo.”

“Well I tell you what, why don’t we do something today- just the three of us?”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but I need sleep. You two kept me up all night.” She shuddered.

“Sorry Ri.”

“You do know he’s married right?”

“You do know you fucked someone who’s practically married too?”

“Yes. Biggest mistake of my life. Get out of here you two, I need sleep!” Riley dramatically faked yawned pushing them both out of the door.

*****

Riley caught up on her sleep, too many notifications were on her phone. Sighing, she didn’t want to read them. Leo and Lindsey had invited her to a restaurant in the capitol for a late lunch. Why not?

Quickly getting dressed she decided to stay t total for the big match tomorrow. Driving into the capitol she parked up. She wasn’t sure where the location of the restaurant was- thank god for google maps.

****

Leo and Lindsey held hands as they walked towards the restaurant. He didn’t care if the press was following him and snapped them. Turning her around he cupped her cheeks and kissed her passionately.

Savannah, Maxwell, Hana and Drake had decided to go shopping and for a lunch date. Drake had bought a new phone, along with a new number so Kiara couldn’t contact him. With the help of Savannah, he had seeked some advice of how to get Kiara out of his house. The locksmith was going to change the locks when they knew she was out, and if she returned he was going to gain an injunction. It was the least he could do- he could potentially press charges. Turning the corner, they saw Leo locking his lips with a brunette. The friends all paused- all assuming it was Riley. Savannah, held Drake back. She knew this would break his heart.

“Leo!”

Leo removed himself from Lindsey, and hid her behind him.

“Hey guys. What are you all doing?”

“What are you doing with Riley? I thought she had left?” Leo let out a little laugh.

“Why are you laughing?” Savannah narrowed her eyes. The mystery woman, stood at the side of Leo.

“I’m not Riley. At times, I wish I was. I’m Lindsey. Lindsey Brooks. Riley is my kid sister.”

Savannah felt Drake become less tense. Relieved that the captain hadn’t stolen the one thing that was positive in his life.

“We are going for lunch. Are you all going to tag along?”

They all declined, still in shock at how affectionate Leo was in public with Lindsey. He used to be so careful. Maybe now with Madeleine’s affair exposed he didn’t give a damn what the press said about him as he could use that against her.

*****

Riley eventually found the restaurant, she was useless with directions. Possibly due to having limos transport her in the past, or Xavier driving them in his Lamborghini. The three of them had a quiet meal, Riley narrowed her eyes at Leo with the amount of alcohol he had been drinking- she advised him to slow down.

“Yes ma’am! Last one I promise.”

The trio got in Riley’s car, and she drove them back to her flat. Playing the third wheel again, Riley knew she wasn’t going to get much sleep.

*****

The morning after was the first match the team was playing this season. It was a home match, against their neighbour rivals. The men all got changed into their kits, they all seemed nervous due to it being the first match.

Sitting on the dressing room benches, they all wondered why their captain wasn’t present. Constantine walked in with Bertrand who was acting as care taker manager and head coach. They was still awaiting for the new manager to confirm the position- hoping it wouldn’t be too long.

“Where’s Leo? And has anyone heard from Riley?” Bertrand snapped.

The men all looked at each other not knowing how to answer this question.

“Due to Miss Brooks not being here, I’m glad I brought your old physio back to help her out. By the looks of things Bastien will be your physio for today.” Constantine said whilst smirking at Drake who was holding his head in his hands. Just the mention of her name and her disappearance broke his heart. He was blaming himself.

*****

Riley felt exhausted, waking up she actually wondered how much sleep she had. Every time her eyes shut, her two guests would wake her up. I must invest in some ear muffs.

With the lack of energy, she reached over for her phone, her eyes squinted as she was still half asleep. 11am- shit!

The match kicked off in an hour and half. She thought her mind was playing tricks on her. Rubbing her eyes, removing the remainder of sleep away- she realised it was in fact the correct time. Falling off the sofa, she had to wake Leo up. Running into her room, wearing skimpy shorts and a crop top- she hoped Leo and Lindsey were more covered up than she was.

“Leo! Get up now!”

“Where’s the fire? Nice tattoo by the way.”

“Erm.. it was a drunk decision to have it. Get up! It’s 11am!”

“Shit!”

Leo stumbled out of bed, struggling to get dressed- losing his balance. Riley made them all a strong coffee. The three of them quickly drank the black liquid, and headed straight towards the stadium.

******

Bastien walked into the dressing room. He had retired after last season, but was loyal to Constantine and said he would still be around to help if need be.

The men were just finishing their prep talk. They could hear fans enter the stadium, chanting- all feeling excited for the new season to begin.

The door swung open, nearly taking it off its hinges.

“Leo, Riley. So nice of both to finally greet us with your presence.” The two of them entered the room out of breath, ignoring Constantine’s sarcasm. Riley’s eyes fixated on Drake, who softly smiled at her. Lindsey slowly followed the two into the room.

“Oh it’s so nice to see my two favourite girls here together.” Bastien said as he hugged Riley and Lindsey tightly.

[blackuigryphonvr]

#PokemonGo #Niantic #Wayfarer #Abuse #CyberBullying I’m currently suspending ALL of my nominations for PokéStops in South Field, and my local area due to a pattern of very bad abusive behaviors collectively done towards me from a group of local individuals whom I’ve actually never ever done anything, but are trashing me behind my back.

I DO NOT APPRECIATE players ganging up on my nominations and ABUSING Niantic’s system to accuse me of being a Nazi and committing a crime! How dare u! It’s like I’m having my own version of the Warren/Sanders back-stab!

WHO in their right mind would ACTUALLY BELIEVE that I’m a Nazi?! WHO would ACTUALLY believe that I would ABUSE Niantic’s system to harm others in my community?

This has been a constant pattern of behaviors of a number of things dating back to June, and this confirms a lot of things I was already catching onto, and suspecting. This also strongly confirms my #1 suspect, and I already suspect up to 9 other persons as well as alt accounts.

Do u have any idea how much research I put into this spot since 2018? I didn’t just pull this out of my ass. It’s not only historical but prehistoric. There is NOTHING DIFFERENT about THIS SUBMISSION than all of my others that went through.

But I’ve noticed that whenever I publicly divulge where and when I’m submitting nominations and mention it publicly on social media, or the local Discord thread, those locations get rejected for reasons that make no sense at all.... but, the ones that did make it through were ones I never told anyone I was doing.

Before Wayfarer even went live, I had reservations about sharing my intel, which I’d been gathering since 2018 hoping to turn into a PokéStop eventually... but, I decided it was better to let go of it, so that others could do it. I gladly, And freely gave out my details, added info to Google & Yelp and even went to long lengths of so much research to share which maps to check, which historical archives to use.

I noticed that much of the ones I openly shared with others often got stupid reasons for rejections. So, we had to come up with better methods to submit nominations with less room for potential rejections like having cultural n historical information or good photography exposures. But, when they didn’t tell others they resubmitted, it got accepted.

Also, I was very vocal about my plans and wishes for which locations I’d been scouting out the best locations for Community Days, especially Public Parks! As a Mom I care about a safe place to play, free parking, and safe access.

I recall feeding my intel to others, publicly, and being told by a head person (whom I trust) that my info was being shared with someone whom wanted to do those locations. Specifically, South Field And Stella Tirrell Park.

I wanted those spots to become high quality places to play Community Day, but I HAD A STRONG INKLING that these places could become a PokéGym since there was an older PokéStop there. I told people this. Yet, no one bothered. Months blew by, and nothing...

Well, I finally hit Level 40 at the end of 2019 so I hustled to get my submissions done. It took days for me to plan out which ones I wanted, and which ones would be more likely than others to go through. But my Stella Tirrell submissions were screwed. I thought it was very strange.... but I still had 1 that go frozen in the cue. That one didn’t even go into voting until last week. And because no one was actively trying to screw me, it went through and now Stella Tirrell has a PokéGym.

But, also, I turned the Jet into a PokéGym in South Field. I did the work. And it paid off.

But I never told anyone that I was doing those.

Well, someone assumed it was another player. So I asked who they thought did it.... and THAT was the person at the top of my list as a suspect. This person also is very well liked and many people believe this person to be a nice person.... I know this because I also fell for the “nice guy” act until their behavior shifted by June. This person was also the very first local player I ever met at a Raid, and used to say hi to me driving around at night in places I was playing the game. This person has been so overtly passive aggressive towards me, and also tries to play it off at other times like it’s fine. But the cold shoulder treatment is so overt when they show up to Raids. Acting nonchalant but also actually repulsed by me, or that I don’t exist. Or: sure! I’ll help you.... sorry, I have to leave. Over and over!

Well, after mentioning a number of things recently ( if u scroll through my posts) u can see what I had to say about my recent successes getting 2 new PokeGyms myself that were MAJOR. Stella Tirrell and South Field. Any of these local players could’ve submitted any of those nominations but never bothered to BECAUSE the intel came from me.

So, when that nomination FINALLY wet into the VOTING on Thursday Night, by the morning it was screwed.

When I checked the email and saw the reasons why, I WAS FLOORED!

This was NOT just some instance of a lazy person reviewing and just picking any reason. It says “the Niantic Community of Players” decided this.

Think about that.

Multiple people went looking to find ANYTHING matching the locations where they knew I wanted PokéStops and meticulously went through ALL of the rejection reasons and SPECIFICALLY picked to accuse me of committing a crime!

Not claiming my photos were bad.

No. They accused me of abusing Niantic’s system to commit a crime to harm people in my community.

Well, I let others know in my community, and on social media.

I find it to be very strange than within a few hours a different PokéStop nomination went through in South Field. It’s just so strange!

Dude! Just play fair!

Even if I didn’t like someone, Or didn’t approve of them, I WOULD NEVER EVER ABUSE NIANTIC’S system to hurt Another player, or try to destroy their credibility to submit a PokéStop nomination. I would NEVER stoop so low as to lower my self worth enough to be THAT MALICIOUS! I have self respect. And a person that has self respect is respectful to others, and treats others with dignity.

I also wouldn’t go out of my way to try and kick people out of the game, or stop them from ever playing the game again, or stop having access to the Discord server.

There’s definitely been some very bad things done to me that qualify as bullying. I don’t like it. But, I don’t want to kick them out of the game permanently, or have them banned from the Discord server. I’m not evil like u are. I also know that some of these people are kids. But, it’s pretty messed up when it’s adult men. U literally shame yourselves.

Just because I’m getting old, don’t have my own car, am jobless & live in poverty, and I can’t memorize every name of every single Pokémon ever, or can’t memorize every single PVP Combo or Raid Couter doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I’m not a male player, and I can’t change my gender because I’m a woman -an aging woman! I’m not young. I’m not sexy. And u hate me for some unknown reason. But u really need to check YOURSELF !

This was TOO FAR!

There was NOTHING wrong with my nomination. I looked up so much information about South Field Naval Airbase from multiple sources. I have read through so much archival data. I’m so much more informed about this area than anyone else. But anyone could do this if they just bothered to! Like, JUST READ! I’ve been working on this since 2018! It mattered to me. But also, other people were HAPPY and THANKFUL for the work I did. But I can’t write an encyclopedia as a nomination.

I did a Good thing.

Nobody likes BAD DEEDS nor those whom do them.

If u think that those of u whom all actively decided to attack me using Niantic’s system are people that u could trust, or whether they trust u, think again. They will ALWAYS remember that u all got together to attack my reputation, and it will always be in the back of their mind. Eventually, someone will always either screw u, or it will backfire in some way. Their is no honor among criminals, thieves, gangsters. If they can do it together with you against me, what makes u think at some point they might not do it to you the moment it suits them? Or, they will always assume u did these kinds of things.

Just don’t do it.

You know it’s wrong.

Just stop it, and move on.

You really need to think about what kind of person you really are, what your values are, and what kind of person you are vs what kind of person you SHOULD be.

If u have been putting up a front of who u want people to think u are, and I know you are, then u need to get to the root of why that is.

[tinsley-goldsworth]

with great power comes great responsibility (chapter 3)

summary: the shadow arrives and marielle and ryan have no choice but to trust each other if they want to survive

read on ao3!

The morning after Ryan and Marielle had dinner together, Ryan woke up at a normal time and almost forgot that Marielle was staying over until he saw her hairbrush next to the sink. He thought that she would still be sleeping as she mentioned not having to wake up early but when he stepped into the living room, he saw that she was already awake. Marielle was still in her pajamas but she had a blanket draped across her back as she sat with her legs crossed on the sofa, watching the news as she sipped coffee from a mug. Her curls were a bit messy but it suited her.

“Good morning. I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed a mug,” Marielle greeted Ryan as he sat down next to her. His eyes were trained on the television as images of the Shadow were shown along with statistics to show the number of deaths caused by the power. The Shadow appeared to be growing bigger and more powerful as it consumed more people. Over three hundred people with superpowers had already fallen victim to this awful monstrosity and scientists didn’t have any explanation for what the Shadow was. Even worse, the Shadow seemed to be invincible because no matter how many bullets the police shot at the Shadow, it seemed to be unaffected by any weapons.

Ryan’s worry must’ve shown itself on his face as he felt Marielle put a comforting hand on his shoulder when the news reporter continued to talk about how the police put up a barrier that did not block the Shadow’s movement at all. “Remember, the best option right now is to just keep living our lives until it comes. People are getting evacuated and I contacted seers all over the world who have gotten many people to safety. You should go to work.”

“I’ll make breakfast for us before I leave.” Ryan stood up and headed into the kitchen, turning on the stove. He prepared two plates of pancakes and brought both plates along with forks to the living room. Marielle thanked him as he handed her a plate and they both watched the news coverage of ongoing evacuations and warnings of where the Shadow could be heading to next. They both ate breakfast in silence for a couple of minutes before the news channel switched to covering some story about a flood in Thailand, prompting Ryan to turn off the television. He took Marielle’s empty plate and his to the kitchen and Marielle stood up, following him to the kitchen.

“Do you have a tall friend without powers and kind of shaggy hair? And does he have a girlfriend with curly hair and the ability to communicate with animals?” Marielle asked out of the blue as she leaned against the doorframe at the entrance of the kitchen and Ryan nearly dropped the fork he was holding in surprise. Her descriptions of Shane and Sara without knowing about them were oddly on point.

“Actually, yes. That would be Shane and Sara. They both work at Buzzfeed. How did you find out about them? Did you see them in a video?” Ryan began washing the plates, glancing over to see Marielle watching him.

“No, I had a vision that woke me up really early this morning. Your friends were with us when we faced the shadow came. Tell them to be careful,” Marielle warned as Ryan finished drying the plates. Their eyes met and for a brief second, Ryan wondered if she knew if they would still be with each other after the Shadow was gone but the moment was broken by Ryan’s phone ringing. He apologized sheepishly and disappeared into his room to answer the call, preparing to go to work as he talked to somebody from the Unsolved team about the post-mortem. As Ryan left the apartment to head to work, he waved goodbye to Marielle since he was still on the call and Marielle smiled in response but she still had a purple tinge to her aura, which revealed that she was a little more worried than she was brave enough to let on.

For the next couple of days, Ryan found himself in a constant state of worry. His aura stayed purple (although it often shifted towards pink whenever he was around Marielle) and saw that other people’s auras were plum purple too. Everybody at work was divided between talking too much about the Shadow or avoiding talking about it any cost.

He planned to tell Sara and Shane about Marielle’s warning but he saw that all the news about the Shadow was really stressing Sara out, which in turn made Shane concerned, so he put it off, deciding on telling them when the Shadow was closer.

Ryan was one of those people who didn’t want to talk about the Shadow as talking about it only made him feel more helpless. He found himself spending a lot of time with Marielle, hoping that it would keep both of their minds off the inevitable event and discovered that in addition to being really sweet, Marielle was a great listener. Marielle’s aura never dulled in terms of brightness and Ryan always felt his mood elevate whenever he talked to her and her aura changed from its purple tinge to a pink tint.

And as Ryan and Marielle grew closer, the Shadow was approaching Los Angeles quicker and quicker. Officials now didn’t encourage evacuation as the Shadow seemed to have decided to revisit some of the locations it had already passed through and killed some of the evacuated people. At this stage, many anti-power protestors were absolutely gleeful and the shadow seemed to empower them to protest even louder and laugh in the faces of people with superpowers. Twitter was a warzone of anti-power people arguing with superpower allies and determined liberals.

Eventually, the Shadow finished causing destruction in Australia and began heading across the Pacific Ocean. News reports claimed that scientists finally analyzed the patterns of the Shadow and predicted that it was heading towards Canada and would arrive the following morning.

Alas, scientists were proven wrong when Ryan woke up the next day to hear a commotion outside the next day. He opened his blinds to see people throwing their belongings into the trunks of their car and frantically running around. The usual sunny sky that greeted residents of Los Angeles was nowhere to be found as dark thunderclouds smothered any light from the sky.

Ryan turned on his phone and saw that he had over a hundred notifications and saw that Shane had called him three minutes ago and decided to call him back. Shane picked up after the first ring and when he answered, he sounded frantic. “The Shadow is here. Are you packing your things?”

“No, I’m staying,” Ryan answered, sounding more firm than he intended to. He could hear Shane’s surprise in the three seconds of silence that elapsed before Shane spoke again.

“Why are you staying behind?” Shane asked and Ryan glanced outside the window, watching as more people flooded the streets as cars started filling up the roads. Los Angeles usually had terrible traffic but now, the traffic on the streets was probably worse than the traffic caused

“Long story but basically I met this seer who told me that I have to stay behind. Oh, and she said that you and Sara should stay too.” As Ryan spoke out loud, he could hear how insane he sounded and he hoped that Shane would believe him but of course, Shane didn’t believe a single word that Ryan said.

“Why are you trusting some random person? Sara and I are leaving.”

“First of all, she’s not just some random person, I trust her. Second of all, there’s no way you can leave. I’m sure all the flights are blocked because they wouldn’t let the plane fly with the chances of the Shadow messing with the flights. The traffic in Los Angeles is so bad that you can’t even drive that far anyway,” Ryan wedged his phone between his ear and shoulder as he opened his bedroom door and walked towards the guest room. Marielle was awake and when she heard him shuffle in, she immediately turned towards him, her aura tinted the most alarming shade of purple Ryan had seen.

“Somebody found a safe-house and we need to get there now! I’ll text you the coordinates and you can send them to Shane,” Marielle informed as she began throwing her belongings into her duffel bag and paused for a moment to send the coordinates to Ryan before continuing to pack her belongings in a frenzy. Ryan relayed the message quickly to Shane and sent his friend the coordinates before he too began packing his belongings into a backpack. He knew that he didn’t have time as he took a few seconds to check the news to see how far away the Shadow was and learned that the Shadow was approaching Los Angeles at an extremely fast rate.

Ryan only took about five minutes to pack what he knew he needed as adrenaline helped speed up his movements. He tried to stay calm and remember what he needed to pack but panic was interfering with some of his thoughts. When he finished packing, Marielle was already set to go so they both ran out of the apartment and as Marielle typed in the address into Google Maps, Ryan unlocked the car doors. The parking lot was crowded with other people who were also trying to get out of Los Angeles. As soon as Ryan started the car, Marielle put her phone up on the car’s dashboard and Ryan followed the directions on the map.

“Even when the world is falling apart, Google Map still works,” Marielle marveled and Ryan laughed, trying to loosen up a bit despite the fact that he was more stressed than he was at the Sallie House after the flashlight turned on. The route Marielle chose was a local route and avoided all heavy traffic and highways and the safe-house was only located ten minutes away.

Ryan focused on driving but he couldn’t help but notice all the people frantically running around and the way the wind was starting to pick up. The palm trees seemed to bend as the wind blew stronger and stronger and the sky grew cloudier and cloudier. His hands gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were almost white and he had to control his urge to press all the way down on the pedal to get to the safe-house as fast as possible without obeying traffic laws. In all honesty, Ryan probably didn’t have to worry about getting a ticket as police had bigger fish to fry.

Finally, they arrived at the safe-house, which was apparently just a giant office building. The office building was only three floors and looked like it was in mediocre shape despite not being used in a while. Ryan gave Marielle a questioning look as if to ask if this really was the safe-house and Marielle nodded, unlocking the car door and grabbing her duffel bag.

Other cars began pulling into the parking lot and Ryan could see the disturbing shades of purple people’s auras were. He saw Shane and Sara arrive and noted that Andrew, Annie, Steven, and Adam were getting out of their car. Ryan grabbed his backpack and locked his car before he joined Marielle in helping people get their belongings out of the car.

“The password to get in is elastic. I’ll help people get the bags in first and you can stay here and help them unload,” Marielle instructed before she helped a few people carry their bags into the office building. Shane and Sara had brought Obi and Shane shot Ryan a grateful as he and his girlfriend entered the building. Ryan tried to stay calm as he helped incoming people with their luggage but the wind was really picking up speed and he felt like if it grew any stronger, he would be knocked over. After Ryan helped his friends from Worth It unload their luggage, he started towards the building and saw Marielle usher Adam and Annie into the building. Then, he heard a loud howling sound behind him.

Ryan paused in his tracks and looked behind him to see the Shadow. The Shadow was more terrifying real life and the darkness of it seemed to drain every single drop of joy from the cracks of the Earth. It seemed to have a life of its own as it twirled around, a dark hole appearing within its cloudy body as it ferociously roared. And for some reason, the first thought Ryan had when he saw it was “Hey, that looks a lot like a faceless, black Gastly Pokemon!”

At first, the Shadow seemed focused on floating across the rooftops of buildings and its wind caused a few old, abandoned buildings to collapse, the debris from the structures flying into windows of apartments. Sounds of shattering glass and terrified screams filled the air and the Shadow paused for a moment before turning towards where Ryan was standing, seeming to have sensed where the people with superpowers had gathered.

Ryan snapped back to his senses and began sprinting towards the office building, fighting to run as fast as he could against the tornado-like wind. Steven and Andrew were also watching the Shadow move towards them in shock and Ryan grabbed both of them by their arms, shaking them out of their trance. They began sprinting alongside Ryan towards the office building as they were so close to entering the office building when the door suddenly slammed shut. Ryan was confused at first and he pounded on the door, begging whoever was behind the door to open up. He didn’t know why the door had been shut all of a sudden and he continued knocking and yelling as Andrew pulled on the door handle, hoping that his yells could be heard over the crescendoing sounds of the wind.

Steven, however, was calmly standing next to the two panicking men as he closed his eyes, telepathically communicating with the people inside. After a few seconds, he turned towards Andrew and Ryan with a bitter expression. “There’s no use. They’re not letting us in. They’re afraid that the Shadow will go in and consume everybody inside.”

“So we’re just supposed to die out here?” Andrew asked incredulously and Ryan dropped his arm, the wave of panic slowly morphing into a fresh wave of fear. The Shadow was getting closer and closer and Steven’s eyes were closed as he concentrated on communicating with the people inside. The wind continued howling louder and louder and Steven’s eyes opened.

“No, you’re not dying. Not on my watch. Stay here, help is coming,” Steven turned towards the dark mass and began jogging away from the office building, his silver hair tousled by the powerful wind. He made it to the other side of the street and was relatively far from the parking lot and he began waving his arms and yelling. “Hey, Shadow! Look over here you big dumb black ball of ink!”

The Shadow stopped and turned towards Steven, and Ryan swore that he saw an evil grin within the darkness of its endless black body. It picked up speed as it began darting towards Steven and Ryan felt realization dawning on him when Steven didn’t make any effort to run away from the Shadow but it was too late to save him.

As the Shadow drew nearer to Steven, Adam suddenly teleported outside and grabbed Andrew and Ryan by the arm. Without warning, the Shadow sucked a large breath in and Steven screamed in agony as a blue orb was ripped out of his chest and floated into the Shadow. As the blue orb slowly drifted towards the Shadow, Steven’s body was suspended in the air and his eyes flashed with pain. The blue orb, Steven’s soul, faded as the Shadow consumed it hungrily and it seemed to really enjoy the meal as Steven’s soul was probably delicious since it was so vibrant. Andrew tried to cry out as he watched Steven’s lifeless body drop to the ground with a thud but before he could act, Adam teleported him and Ryan into the building.

Teleportation was always disorienting so when Ryan was teleported into the office building, he took a second to clear the mild headache from teleporting before he looked up to see everybody staring at him, Andrew and Adam. Adam looked exhausted from having to teleport himself along with two other people into a building and Annie helped guide him over to a chair so he could take a seat and regain his energy. Andrew’s eyes were wet with tears and he barely had time to mourn before the Shadow began banging against the side of the office building.

Some people let out yelps of surprise and moved farther back towards the back of the room, watching as the Shadow continued to ram its midnight black body into the building. Despite its force, all of its efforts were in vain as no matter how hard it tried to break into the building. Ryan could see its murky form pressed against the glass and could sense its desperation to consume the delicious souls of the people inside. Eventually, after almost ten minutes of trying, the Shadow gave up and whirled away, off to consume the souls of other people with superpowers.

Ryan glanced at Marielle inquisitively and she explained in a low voice, “There’s a healer on the third floor who cast a protection spell on this house. It took him a long time to prepare it but it will only last forty-eight hours. He had been preparing for it since a seer told him about it.”

The room was relatively silent as everybody was still trying to process what had just happened. Shane’s arms were wrapped tightly around Sara’s body and Sara was holding onto Obi, her eyes still squeezed shut as if she was expecting the shadow to burst in at any moment. Adam still looked drained and Annie was biting her lip worriedly. Unsurprisingly, Andrew was the worst out of everybody as he had just watched his best friend die. Annie placed a comforting hand on Andrew’s shoulder and he buried his head in his hands, muffling a sob.

Ryan was surprised when Marielle held his hand but he didn’t pull away and everybody sat in solemn silence, mourning the sacrifice that was made and fearing for what the future holds.

~

chapter 4 is here!

[festfashions]

Sunglasses from Quay, pants from Forever 21, and top from Hollister.

Desert X

Two years ago around the time of Coachella I started to see all over Instagram these photos taken in the desert with art sculptures. The one that was most Insta-famous was what looked like a mirrored building. After some quick Google research I found out that it was one piece of many for a pop up art exhibit called Desert X.

By the time I was headed to Coachella, I made a plan to visit some of the art pieces. They were super cool and all free (as the event is produced by a not-for-profit organization).

This year, somewhere, probably in one of many emails I get, I saw that Desert X was coming back! So I planned a trip solely to visit the art. 

I know this isn’t about a festival or rave, but it’s still something cool, and a lot of the festivals/raves I go to have an awesome collection of art. Plus, I know sometimes there’s down time for people who attend Coachella and stay outside the festival, so it’s an awesome opportunity to visit some of it!

The basics: Desert X is produced by Desert Biennial, a not-for-profit 501(C)(3) charitable organization founded in 2015 to bring international artists to the Coachella Valley to create art, engage viewers and focus attention on the valley’s environment.

From their site “[Desert X’s] natural wonders as well as socio-political-economic issues that make it vibrant, curious and exciting.” And it definitely is.

It takes place Feb 9 - April 21, 2019 all along Coachella Valley, CA. The art pieces are spread out, and some require some walking or hiking to from where you can park your car.

You can download the app to find the locations, but for me, it was much more fun to get a good old paper map to make a full adventure of the trip. There are hubs where you can pick this up, and we got ours at the Ace Hotel. Once you have the map you’ll see the pieces are spread out all over the Coachella Valley. Driving from top to bottom takes just over an hour, and then stopping in between... we decided to split the map in half, and do the top half this trip in two days. 

The bottom half is closer to where Coachella is actually hosted, and since I’ll probably be there to take photos, I figured this was a good way to split the trip up so it wasn’t overwhelming. 

So I'll share with you what the pieces were like that we visited on this trip, and which were my favorites. I’m looking forward to seeing more though later, I think this is such a unique experience.

First up was Dive-In by Superflex. This one was really easy to get to, right at the start of a hiking trail and very easy to see from the road. One thing that is unique about this art experience is that the locations aren’t always an address, so you use the coordinates provided, plug them into your phone and follow the map then to exactly where the art piece is. Half the fun is finding them, I think.

I loved this piece a lot, and I loved the story it had to tell. If you go to the Desert X site, and click on artists you can see write ups of each piece and what it means. I opened the link once we found each piece because they spoil what it looks like at the top of the page, and it was much more meaningful to read when looking at the piece. I’d suggest doing the same.

This was definitely an Insta-worthy stop too, the bright pink colors contrasting the blue sky. I learned a lot about Coachella Valley visiting this one, like how it all used to be underwater tens of thousands of years ago, and how it probably will be again someday. That’s why this piece, was reminiscent of coral, and would work as a great habitat of sea creatures in the future.

It Exists in Many Forms by Postcommodity was located in a famous mid-century home in Palm Springs. The write up for this one was more interesting than the art piece-- I just really didn’t get it. The house was under construction and there was some audio stuff playing in it but I couldn’t discern what was going on ... we left this one pretty quickly. 

Also this one required tickets, but we were able to get in anyway, but try to get your tickets online before just in case, they’re free, you just have to register.

After this, well, let’s be glad it was a gorgeous day cuz I sent us on a 30-ish minute detour plugging in the wrong coordinates lol. Pro tip copy the coordinates before you hit search in case you need to double check them or type them in again, cuz it takes a while to type them into maps. 

Eventually though we made our way back down a mountain from my detour to the next piece that we actually passed on the way to the detour... yea I know I know whatever...

We found Lover’s Rainbow by Pia Camil. This was also a very Insta-worth piece, and is really cool because it has an identical rainbow located in Baja, Mexico. It has the message of re-inserting rain and fertility into desert territory. I loved how when we arrived there, the shadow from it at one end made the illusion of a heart with the art piece. Call me a romantic. 

From here we went on a treasure hunt to find the next location, hidden in a strip mall. Wormhole by Cynthia Marcela uses empty storefronts in Coachella Valley as well as one in Tijuana, Mexico. That means there’s a total of 6 pieces scattered around to find. 

You really have to look for it, but once you find the correct storefront, you look inside and there’s a TV, streaming the front of one of the other locations, creating a wormhole, ‘a shortcut through space and time’. 

I kept hoping someone would visit the location I was seeing so I could see them on the TV, and I found it really neat to think that someone somewhere else might be seeing me checking out this location. For me, seeing one of these was enough, so you can pick one that’s near where other art is to make it less driving all around.

We opted for one more this day, and it was Peace is the Only Shelter by Mary Kelly. This was another one that was listed as having 3 locations, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. All 3 were relatively close together, but I did have a hard time finding them until I found one -- because then I knew what to look for. The piece is a re-skinned bus stop. 

The piece repurposes Cold War-era peace activism, calling attention to the anti-nuclear Women's Strike for Peace formed in 1961. You visit the bus stop and read about their stance as well as another anti-war movement from the 2000s. Underwhelming by sight, I thought the piece was much more interesting once I read about it online and visited inside to read the posters.

Day 2

We were up to start our art hunt. 

First up was Revolutions by Nancy Baker Cahill... And I made a huge mistake of not downloading the app they said to before getting there, so we didn’t get to experience it. The app is HUGE which is why they suggest downloading it before cuz you’ll need wifi. My phone was like uh... no. Literally, it gave me a pop up saying to connect to wifi and wouldn’t download. It’s a VR experience so you need the app.

This one though is located off the freeway which is the route many of us take into Coachella, so I’ll plan to visit it easily another time. 

From there we kept driving to Jackrabbit, Cottontail & Spirits of the Desert by Cara Romero. This was another of my favorites. You almost miss it if you’re not sure what you’re looking for, but it’s a series of billboard with photographs on them. They show ‘four special time-traveling visitors from Chemehuevi who have come to the ancestral lands of their sister tribes in the Coachella Valley’. 

The billboards go by fast, and only face one way, so I didn’t capture any photos so that I could just experience them. I really liked learning about and taking a peek at these ancestral visitors. 

Western Flag by John Gerrard is located right next to the Palm Springs visitors Center, and another one that is easily visitable on your drive into Palm Springs. It’s a giant box with one side hosting a screen simulation of the site of the world’s first major oil find in Spindletop, TX in 1901. The piece shows what looks like a flag pole with and endless stream of black smoke as the flag. The visual runs in parallel with the real site in Texas, with the sun rising in the video at the appropriate times and the days getting longer and shorter according to the seasons.

While all the pieces are making a statement, I’d say this one made me feel the most ‘awkward’ in the way that art can when it makes you think about things.

Our next stop took us up to Desert Hot Springs where two pieces are located. They’re relatively close to each other and -whoops- once again I got some coordinates wrong that tried to take us down a closed up road. We had to search cross streets as an alt way to the art because the coordinates weren’t going to take us a legal way...

Ghost Palm by Kathleen Ryan was a hard one to find as it was built with clear materials. Once we walked closer and closer to it we could see it better, and unfortunately with I think a lot of wind and rain some of it has fallen apart, but it was still clearly a meticulously recreated palm tree, matching those found around California. 

This was probably one of the furthest we had to walk to from where we parked our car, but still was not very far. 

We then found ourselves in a neighborhood for the next one which had a part 1 and part 2. Going Nowhere Pavilion #01 by Julian Hoeber was a cool structure winding within itself. This piece and its sister piece were commentaries on psychology and the human mind. This piece was about how ‘what is inside and outside the self can quickly become indiscernible’.

The sister piece was located in the small pool of the abandoned house next door. A pink painted pool had the sculpture of a man’s head in center of the floor of the pool. Both pieces were interesting to check out, but a little to over my head. I did like how they were tucked into a neighborhood, how cool would it be for all neighborhoods to have such interesting pieces on vacant lots?

The last piece we checked out was SPECTER by Sterling Ruby. An eye popping piece with a vibrant construction orange color it looks beautiful against the desert tones. The sun was hitting it in amazing ways as well, creating a reflection on the sand, and unique colors on each side even though they were all the same. 

I felt like I could sit and stare at this piece all day and watch how it changed with the environment around it. What would it look like at sunset? In the night would it glow?

I’d like to visit this one again if I can when I go back to Coachella at another time of the day.

So there it is, part one of my Desert X adventure. I’m excited to explore the other pieces, and I’m really glad I dedicated some time to drive around and find them. It’s a fun adventure and something out of the ordinary from our digital based lives. 

Not every piece will connect with you, and some that didn’t connect with me may connect with you, so I’d urge you to explore each piece on your own vs taking my opinions. Art is subjective, make the experience yours.

[sunflowerplusapeach]

𝓂𝓎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒

✰hi everyone! i’m not the very type of person who’s good at storytelling but i’ll try my best to share my very first concert experience in my life. i’m figuring out many armys are gonna attend bts’ future concerts or curious about it so i’ll let you know about mine in this thread.

(𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒐𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆)

BUYING TICKETS

each venue has different official ticket distributors. for example, the concert for staples center LA has AXS as their official ticket distributor, meanwhile oracle arena has ticketmaster. ITS ALWAYS JUST THE TWO: AXS and Ticketmaster. tbh i really don’t know whats better at first since i’ve never bought one. many armys prefer ticketmaster and vice versa but let me tell you!! before the ticket selling for oracle arena, I tried practicing buying tickets for the LA concert dates thru AXS and actually got sumn! i think it was a p3 seat that costs only like $120 with tax but i didn’t got it cause i’m from north cali and LA is too far for me so i really did set my mind on the oakland concert only and let me tell you sis, that was a dumb move!! the date for the ticket selling for oakland came and i didn’t snag any ticket from ticketmaster and i was actually pissed. but i’ve had plan B and that is to buy from stubhub. yes, stubhub which is another ticket reseller but sells ticket at an expensive price. when the sold out sign went out for oakland i quickly went to stubhub and got a p6 ticket with a price thats 4x more expensive than the original price (which is only $60) and i lowkey cried cause i didn’t got p1 (which is my planned seat) but actually thankful cause i’m still gonna see them anyways but just far away. there’s many tutorials about buying tickets made by armys on yt and tbh i didn’t follow any of them lmao. i guess its just bad luck to me that day. it’s really chaos during ticket selling so stay strong and be patient with the process. some armys on twitter are selling tickets but of course it would be better if you could buy on your own with the official price and not the overpriced ones. there’s also lot of scammers during ticket selling period cause they know some fans are desperate and those are the type of peeps you wanna be careful with.

THE NIGHT BEFORE THE CONCERT

finally its tomorrow!!! i was kinda nervous and excited at the same time but kinda relieved cause i had a friend (shoutout to jaja 💜 ) whos going with me too. we only just met at twitter and its gonna be our first meeting too on the day of the concert lmao. i didn’t mind going with her cause its her first time also so i have someone with me who is on the same boat as I am. it would be nice if you had a friend/s with you whos going also. if not, its alright.

on the night i did some beauty preparations. of course i wanna look stress-free on the concert day lol. i did prepare the bag that i’m gonna use (which was a drawstring bag) and some essentials. i was gonna prepare on the morning on the concert day cause i don’t wanna be stressed yet. make sure you know the venue map (bighit posts it at twitter the day before the concert) so you can know where will be the merchandise line will be located, where to buy the lightstick, and the photo booths and stuff. plan ahead the merchs you’re gonna buy tomorrow and have extra money in case. planning really helps. plan merchs that you want in case the merch you want got sold out.

memorize fanchants if you can. tbh i didn’t memorized all the fanchants and i’m a little guilty lol. it would be really appreciated on the concert day i promise you.

have a good sleep and relax. excitements gonna keep you awake but if you can’t sleep try taking sleeping pills. it works for me when i can’t sleep the night when i’m super excited on the next day event lmao.

CONCERT DAY

this is it! the day i’m looking forward all my life lol. its such a good day to wake up to as I think that i’m gonna meet bts at night. i woke up at like 6:30 am cause i had to drop my brother at his school. i did some errands at the morning and didn’t have the opportunity to sleep again which made me worried cause its gonna be a busy day but i’m confident cause i got 8 hours of sleep at night. i got home at 9:30 and started preparing my stuffs.

WHATS IN MY BAG?

-powerbank

-concert ticket

-phone

-extra cash

-plastic water bottles (not the hard containers like hydroflask, they don’t allow it at the venue)

-wallet

-binoculars (an essential for me cause i’m gonna seat at the very back TT)

-army bomb ver.3 (i’m planning to pair it at the venue booth so i won’t have any problem in case i didn’t do the right steps to pair it for concert mode)

-gum

(this is all whats in my bag that day. i didn’t bring any banners but you can if you want but there’s a limit on the size. see the venue rules for the allowed banner dimensions)

OUTFIT

check the weather before wearing anything. if its very hot, wear light clothing and if its cold, wear appropriate clothes. it was 60 degrees that day so i just wore a pink sweatshirt and pants with pockets. i was originally planning to wear leggings cause it looks more better with the sweatshirt but i can’t tolerate bottoms without pockets LOL. so i just decided on simple pants. i thought about this outfit cause i wanna be comfortable as possible. i don’t recommend high heels but if you’re used to it why not but its not really recommendable. everybody wants to slay and there’s nothing wrong with that but make sure you’re also comfortable so you can really enjoy the show :) i did wore RJ headband to show support to jin and it really looks adorable! many armys complimented me about it when i arrived on the venue hehe

TRANSPORTATION

i just live near oakland (30-45 minutes away) so the transportation was pretty easy for me. i do have a driver’s license but my parents didn’t allowed me to drive to oakland cause they told me its not safe lol which is i kinda understand plus i don’t wanna worry about the parking. i went to oracle by uber and it was really pricey but it just depends on everyone. my parents didn’t have the opportunity to drop me off there cause they have work that day. i left the house at like 12:40pm and arrived at oracle after an hour. the traffic wasn’t that bad yet but i left home early cause i didn’t want to get stuck at the traffic plus i’m still gonna line up for the merch.

MERCH LINE

i automatically lined up to the merch section as soon as the uber driver dropped me off at the gate lmao. the line was long when i arrived but to my relief its moving fast. if i mean fast, i’m not kidding. kudos to the bts crew and staffs. before you line up a staff is gonna give you a paper, more like a merch list where you will check up the merch you want along with the quantity (theres a limit quantity on each item). i think its a really good idea so that the line wouldn’t take too long. once its your turn you’re gonna give the paper to them and they would bring the item and calculate the price overall. i think my overall transaction was less than a minute. it was really fast but many of the items i want are sold out already :( but its alright, still thankful i got some.

ps, DON’T FORGET TO BRING A PEN

also shoutout to kathy! 💜  i met her on the merch line. it was awkward at first but she was really friendly. she told me she was going to the concert alone cause her friends didn’t got a ticket which is kinda sad cause who tf wants to go alone to the concert right? plus she was wearing a mang headband while im wearing rj so our combination looks really cute 💜 too bad we don’t have a photo together but i got her twitter username. were still communicating till today which is kind of adorable hehe~

here’s the merchs that i was able to buy:

(official slogan, mini photocard set and ip7 phone case)

HOURS BEFORE THE CONCERT

after buying merchs, me and my friend Jaja got to meet for the first time! it was crazy finding each other but it was really fun haha. here’s our photo together when we met:

after meeting we went straight to the army bomb pairing booth and got our army bomb ready for the concert which took less than 5 minutes. the staff who paired ours was very friendly (she was korean).

after that that’s the time when we were both curious on where to go. we decided to line up to the bts studio but backed out cause it took long plus were kinda worried where we will eat for dinner.

we tried asking some security guards on which was the nearest fastfood place that we can walk over but he was rude. really rude lmao. that’s what i also noticed on the guard gates on oracle, they were all hella rude. and since the guard’s answer was useless all i did was just to google map instead and found panda express and in-n-out as the nearest fastfood on the venue but we need to ride on uber cause its not really safe to walk around oakland. we got uber and arrived and ate at in-n-out. thanks jaja for treating me <3

we just told each other our stories and got to know each other. we also talked how we found out about bts and became an army and stuffs like that. i’m really glad i met her cause her life is very similar to mine so we both can relate to each other’s stories.

before 5 pm we went back to oracle again, rode uber and arrived safe. after that we went to the north entrance wherein all entrances will open at 5:30pm. it was a smart move that we went there early so we can just chill and won’t have to worry about the time.

BAG INSPECTION and SCANNING OF TICKETS

the line became long after 3 minutes when we arrived in the line. the line was fast enough. my 2 sealed bottled water got confiscated TT but everything went on smoothly. we went straight to another line again which is the last line for the ticket scanning and that’s where it really hit me that i’m gonna see BTS!!! i started taking photos and my heart was really beating so fast. when the venue was letting people in the line was fast too. after that me and jaja got in, we both screamed and jumped together. she was almost crying and i was just there still silent at the fact that it really is the day that i’m gonna see my inspirations hours later.

after we came inside we went straight to the food section and bought water bottles which costs $7 per bottle lmao. always prepare for expensive stuff inside the arena cause i’m not joking, it really is expensive. we had our bathroom breaks and went to our seats!! jaja and i had different seats so we separated our ways and went to our sections. her ticket was on the left side of the arena while i’m on the right side.

it was easy finding my seat plus there’s gonna be a banner on each seat so be careful not to touch those cause i accidentally brushed through a seat and the banner dropped and almost got lost (clumsy me) but good thing i found it and returned it. the armys inside the arena wasn’t full yet when i got to my seat. here’s the view while i was waiting:

the vcr was playing some bts music videos on repeat. its in your preference if you would sing along or do the fanchants but i stayed quiet while waiting cause i was reserving my voice for the real show later. i charged my phone with my power bank to make sure my phone will stay good while recording some videos. it was really fun and you can feel the excitement in the air. my seatmate was kinda cool but i didn’t talk to her that much (sorry i’m awkward hahaha)

the show was getting nearer and nearer and the crowd started to get louder too. when 8:00 pm hit the clock everyone was hfskjdhfskjdfhsjbfkjsdgfdskbnglksfgbksjgns including me! the last mv that showed before the show was DNA and everyone sang. when the lights went out, we all went MBDJSGDKJHFJSGFKJHGFSJFDGHAJKFGSHFGKSJ

THE SHOW

this is the part i’m not gonna explain that much LOL. i had my army bomb ready, my binocular on my neck, my phone on my other hand and my voice on full volume to cheer my babies. when idol came i thought i was gonna have a heart attack LMAO. i quickly grabbed my binocular and damn they don’t look real. they’re too perfect to look real OJO angels indeed.

be careful of your neighbors when your cheering, you might not notice your hitting them. as namjoon say, be mindful of your neighbors so everyone can enjoy the show :)

also, stay hydrated! i drink water from time to time so my throat wouldn’t be that dry.

some of my fancams: (shameless promo heh)

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLBdJOY1NfAvoakzAY3CnQmofro6O9x9ME

AFTER THE SHOW

i was a lil sad when the show ended but it was literally the best night of my life. i knew i had to deal with pcd (post concert depression) after but i just stayed happy throughout the night even after the show. jaja and i went out the stadium and got an uber ride. i was thankful cause even if its late they were still uber drivers around there.

HOME

when i got home my dad was waiting at the parking and he greeted me happily. he asked about my experience and the merchs i bought and i quickly told him about the overall experience. he told me he was happy cause i got to be really genuine happy for once in my life and i’m glad he supports me regarding my fangirling life. after i showed him the merchs and videos i went to my room and THAT’S WHEN I REALLY REALIZE ITS ALL OVER NOW TT. i got emotional but i didn’t really cry. i can’t cry cause i still have work the next day LMFAO i don’t want my eyes to be puffy af. work was ok the next day. i was a little blank but good thing it wasn’t that busy at work but i feel really tired.

OVERALL, the concert experience was truly amazing. words weren’t enough to describe how amazing it was. if only i can time travel i would repeat it without a doubt but of course, life must go on. the only thing that sucks is that you have to deal with PCD but i believe everyone will carry on. i hope every army will get to experience bts concerts atleast once cause believe me sis, its really an amazing experience and you only live once~

[clicheroadtripblogname]

Day 23: The End.

Here are a few of the things I noticed across our great nation.

There is an unbelievable number of both Jimmy John’s and Subway. Jimmy John’s doesn’t exist in NYC (right?) and Subway is probably the most-maligned of all fast food options here, but apparently the midwest fucking LOVES sandwiches. I ate at neither. I actually avoided most fast food except one Wendy’s and two Sonics late at night, plus two McDonald’s breakfasts. I tried to eat at small town spots when driving and pile on the breakfast on long drive days, and that worked out way better for about the same price.

Jesus advertises a LOT. Almost as much as the famous Wall Drug. Most Jesus ads are very vague, like, “You Will Meet Jesus” or “Jesus Introduces You To God” (that second one may be a little off, but that was definitely the gist). There were Jesus and God billboards telling me I was on my way to Hell on every highway, but the exit for Hell never did show up on Google Maps. Weird. I spent a lot of time wondering why Jesus needs so much advertising. I feel like his brand is pretty well-known and that billboard money could go toward, I don’t know, helping people in need? Like Jesus wanted? No other religion had billboards. Actually, that’s wrong. There was ONE very strange atheism billboard in Denver. Pothead heathens.

There is so much open space. And so much flat land. And so much farm land. One family can easily occupy the same amount of land as all of Queens, and that’s wild to me. I wouldn’t know what to do with all that land. I’d never want the task of farming it.

Extremely small towns make me extremely sad. I couldn’t tell if it was my city liberal elitism or just that it’s generally sad to see a place that doesn’t know what to do with itself. There were a lot of boarded-up and decaying buildings everywhere. It made me feel like I had a better understanding of Trump voters, and I’m not saying that in a negative way. I mean that I can understand the appeal to some degree. At least, back then.

And on a personal level, I was mostly amazed by how fine I was the whole trip. I went in telling people to prepare for an inevitable meltdown, for a moment when I couldn’t handle it at all and I was in over my head and convinced everything was terrible and spiraled out into a lonely pit of despair. People were on standby. But that moment didn’t come. I had one cry after Yellowstone when my camping plans went awry and I thought I wouldn’t make it to my hotel in time to check in. That’s it.

I think if I’d done the whole trip without seeing any friends the whole time, it would’ve been different. I’m not sure I could’ve lasted three weeks on only texting friends and small talk with strangers. Yellowstone might have been the full breaking point in that case. Who knows.

But a year ago, I know I couldn’t have done this trip. I was fine in a way that I 100% know I would not have been without meds. My brain has spent a lot of my life making me feel awful about myself. It’s gotten really good at making sure I feel I’m a person no one likes or cares about and I’m a completely failure. But lamotrigine has shut it the fuck up for once. Those thoughts are extremely rare, and they happen the same way anyone else’s bad thoughts happen. Not at random. Sparked by something a normal amount of bad.

I had some people ask if I was afraid to be alone with my thoughts for so many hours on the road, and I totally was, especially because I’ve had that time in the past and it didn’t go well. I certainly had moments of reflection and introspection on this trip. I thought a lot about past relationships and family during long stretches of corn. I thought about some trash times I wish hadn’t happened and thought about how they shaped me and why. I thought about dudes I wish I could see one last time just to explain that I finally understand that what they did or said to me was wrong, and they should feel really bad. I thought about things I regret and times when I was a shitty person to other people. I thought about what I want out of my future. My career, relationships, friends, family. Having that time alone with my brain was different now. It was rational and useful and sometimes (a lot of times) funny because I’m hilarious and think about weird shit.

And I didn’t get tired of driving. The only time I was tired of driving was when I couldn’t find parking in Queens today and people were being fucking stupid per usual and I HATE THEM oh god why, Queens, why. And I got literally tired sometimes. But driving has always been therapeutic for me, and that didn’t change. Driving at night still sucks. But driving in general was something I spent a long time looking forward to being able to do, because it meant I could go when and where I wanted. That’s always been extremely important to me.

All the driving didn’t feel like it was endless hours strung together for three weeks. It felt like steps. Okay, I drive six hours today, I have arrived at the place I wanted to be. Tomorrow, I have a new place to go and I’ll drive however long it takes to land there. This drive was eight episodes of Potterless long, or six episodes of Dr. Death, or three of Invisibilia. I stopped when I wanted to stop, took detours that seemed interesting, and had no set timeline aside from needing to eventually be asleep in a new location. I wasn’t looking more than a day or two ahead at any given moment, so it felt like I was just taking two-day trips repeatedly. Not one looooong trip. It doesn’t feel like it took three weeks to get back home. It feels like it took about 3 hours from Pennsylvania, with one stop for ice cream in Morristown.

It feels really weird. Three weeks happened and didn’t happen to me. I know I was gone. But I don’t feel it. I feel like I was gone for a weekend. I keep thinking tomorrow is Monday.

And it feels weird to be in a large city, especially since I went into Manhattan only a few hours after I got home and I barely even did that this summer, let alone this month. The skyline looked crazy big as I drove over the GW and there were too many people in my neighborhood. More buildings and more people than I’ve seen in weeks and my first thought was WHY AM I HERE but I remembered in Manhattan that I like all the people and buildings. I did not like my $10 vodka tonic in midtown. Stupid midtown.

I’m also home with my dumb cats, who don’t stand still long enough for a photo. They ignored me at first, and then I left for a few hours and now that I’ve returned again they’re behaving. They probably think I was threatening them with more absence. The Mr. is in his usual spot.

I know people are going to ask me what my favorite stop was and I’m not sure I have an answer, honestly. The whole trip was my favorite stop? The Badlands ended up being maybe my favorite National Park. I think. It was definitely the most unique, and it’s the only stop where I got in some stargazing. Wind farms were one of my favorite sights on the road. River swimming in Utah was a good break. Utah in general is perfect. The geysers in Yellowstone were surprisingly beautiful and interesting - minus Old Faithful, which was boring and not even colorful. You know, I guess my favorite place really was Wall Drug, though.

And I guess that’s it. My Chinese food is here. Writing this makes things pretty final, though I still have five bins in my car to unload. Welp. Until the next adventure, goooooodbye.

[recentanimenews]

FEATURE: Anime vs. Real Life — Escape the Monotony of Life With Laid-Back Camp Season 2

  I just can’t thank Laid-Back Camp enough for providing me with a weekly dose of eye-cleansing, soul-soothing escape during these times. Like many, I’ve been more or less confined to my same four walls for what feels like half an eternity by now, so getting to admire the sunrise from atop Mt. Minobu, watching the waves at Cape Omaezaki, or just enjoying the sunset over Lake Hamana, has been a more than welcome diversion from the current monotony of life. Of course, there’s nothing I’d rather do than go and visit all of these locations in person again like for the first season, but that’ll have to wait. But even while I was only sifting through these places on Google Street View in preparation for this article, I often found myself wandering off for hours on end, just taking in some of these gorgeous locales I’ve never seen before. So in the hope that they provide you with the same feeling of diversion I got from them, let’s take a look at over 60 real-life locations from the first three episodes of the second season of Laid-Back Camp! 

  *Author's own images are marked as such, all other images were taken with GOOGLE STREET VIEW

    The show’s opening shot paints a familiar picture, as we once again get to experience the serene and beautiful Japanese countryside by following Rin and Nadeshiko on their little camping adventures. The main setting of the show is once again Yamanashi Prefecture, specifically the area along the Fuji River and around Minobu, which is only about two hours away from Tokyo. 

      And just like in the first season, it’s so easy to get swept away by the show’s beautiful and accurate portrayal of the great outdoors. 

      At the end of the first episode, Rin sets off from around Furuseki in Minobu and passes this little train crossing near Tokiwa on her way to Nambu.

    While there are some truly magnificent views along the roads that follow the Tokiwa and Fuji River, it’s also fun to just virtually wander off into some of the smaller villages and valleys around the area, as there are some really cool little shrines and scenic spots to discover. 

      On her way to her next camping destination, Rin passes through the small town of Nambu, which is also where Nadehshiko lives. And as it so happens, the two run across each other after Nadeshiko grabbed herself a small breakfast at the Daily Yamazaki convenience store (pictured below) before her shift. 

      From there she sets off to Cape Omaezaki in Shizuoka Prefecture, but more on that a bit further down in this article. 

        While Rin is off on her solo adventure, it’s back to work for Nadeshiko, who delivers the mail for the Minobu Post Office as part of her part-time job.

      Luckily for her, Ena also works at the Minobu Post Office, so the two friends get to enjoy their lunch break together along the nearby shore of the Hagii River.

          Rin is cycling across Hagii Bridge here, which crosses the small Hagii River in Minobu. 

      Wilhelm Donko

  Wilhelm Donko

  Not too far from the Minobu Post Office is the 1,153-meter tall Mt. Minobu, which is easily accessible via ropeway. Chiaki and Aoi decide to visit their first shrine and watch the first sunrise of the new year here together. 

  Wilhelm Donko

  Called hatsumode — hatsu literally means first and mode means shrine visit — it’s an annual tradition in Japan to visit a shrine (or temple) within the first few days of a new year to make a couple of wishes and do a few prayers. Chiaki and Aoi do that at the Okunoin Shishinkaku Temple atop the mountain, which is part of the larger Kuonji Temple at the base of the mountain. 

  Wilhelm Donko

  Watching the first sunrise of the year is another popular custom in Japan, which kind of sets the tone for the whole year to come. Mt. Minobu is definitely a good place to do just that, as it also offers a glimpse of the magical Mt. Fuji. I got to visit Mt. Minobu back in 2019 when I was in the area taking photos of the locations from the first season, but, just like Chiaki who wanted to see the Diamond Fuji phenomenon, I also got a bit unlucky with the weather up top. 

  Wilhelm Donko

  Wilhelm Donko

  But that wasn’t too much of a problem for me, as I treated myself to some sweet, sweet dango skewers in return. The grilled rice dumplings were served with a slightly sweet and sticky walnut sauce, and yes, they tasted just as good as they looked.

  Wilhelm Donko

  Situated a bit further down the mountain is the impressive Kuonji Temple, which was founded in 1281 by Nichiren. The tucked-away temple features a spectacular five-story pagoda and a highly picturesque 287-step staircase, called the “steps of enlightenment.” 

      The gang didn’t get to see the so-called Diamond Fuji on top of Mt. Minobu, which occurs when the rising or setting sun aligns just perfectly with the peak of Mt. Fuji, so they tried their luck elsewhere by checking out the viewpoint from this parking lot in Takaori. However, they were just a tad too late again. 

    Meanwhile, Rin decided to spend the beginning of the new year in Shizuoka Prefecture, making a quick stop at the Omaezaki Lighthouse, which is situated at the southernmost point of the Prefecture. I’ve always been a big fan of the most extreme geographical points of an area, so Cape Omaezaki definitely made it on my future travel list. 

      But that’s not all the place has going for it, the view from up top is also pretty amazing. 

      We know the drill by now — empty roads as far as the eye can see, beautiful landscapes left and right, and Rin riding her scooter, heading for the Ryuyokaiyo Koen Auto Camping Ground this time around.

      Along the way, she decides to take a quick break for tea at the Kimikura Café and later pays the Mitsuke Tenjin Shrine a short visit. 

      Rin spends the night at the Ryuyokaiyo Koen Auto Camping Ground near Hamamatsu City, but unfortunately, I was not able to get any good pictures of the place. From there it was on to the next camping ground for her. 

      You can spot the Shinkansen Bullet Train in the background.   

    This little bridge close to the Nagisaen Camping Ground was featured a couple of times already during the first season (although from the other direction) since this was close to where Nadeshiko lived before she moved to Yamanashi. 

    Rin uses the day in Hamamatsu by visiting some of the local sights, such as the 632-meter long Hamana Bridge, which spans across the canal that connects Lake Hamana to the Pacific Ocean.

    And since this is Rin we’re talking about, she also treats herself to a quick hot spring visit at the Kaishunro Onsen Hotel, which has a nice view of Lake Hamana and its famous floating torii gate. 

    The 18-meter tall torii gate was only built in 1973, but it has soon become one of the symbols of the area, and is at its prettiest when the sun sets just right into the gate. 

    On her way to the next destination, Rin crosses Hamanako Bridge, which leads her to Kanzanji Onsen. 

      If you haven’t already noticed in the anime, the Kanzanji Onsen resort area, which is located on an inlet on the eastern shore of Lake Hamana, is famous for one thing, and one thing in particular: eel!

    Lake Hamana is the birthplace of eel farming in Japan and is known for the finest and priciest eel (called unagi in Japanese) the country has to offer. This is also why just about every restaurant in the area is specialized in eel.

        You’ll find the word eel written here just about everywhere you look … oh, the eel pressure.

    However, since eel is fairly pricey (especially the famous Hamana eel) Rin opts to just visit the Shizuhana sweets shop instead. 

    Fujitaya is another sweets shop close to Kiga Station.

  After getting a call from Nadeshiko that she’s also in the area, Rin heads to the nearby Hamanako-Sakume Station to meet up with her.

  And just like in the anime, the tracks of the station are often filled with seagulls in real life as well.

  Even though Rin was a bit strapped for cash, it just wouldn’t be a trip to Hamamatsu without even trying some of its famous eel, so Nadeshiko treats her to the Unagi Sakume Restaurant close to Hamanako-Sakume Station.

    It’s only a short walk from the station to Nadeshiko’s grandmother’s house. 

      However, the location used for her house in the anime is currently just an empty lot, which marks a good end for the first rundown of all of the locations of the second season of Laid-Back Camp.

  In case you virtually want to check out any of these places yourself, check out my newly updated map below:

      What's a place from Laid-Back Camp that you'd like to check out some day? Sound off in the comments below!

      Wilhelm is an anime tourist, who loves to search for and uncover the real-world spots he sees in anime. You can talk with him on Twitter @Surwill or on Instagram wilhelm_donko.

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features! 

By: Wilhelm Donko

[stone-man-warrior]

January 27, 2021: 11:31 am:

===================================================

This post is a very challenging one to make:

1st try:

the bastards are deleting my screenshots from my computer, I cannot show you the ones that explain how the power was being shut off, twice as I tried to post this information.

2nd try:

The other part of the second try:

Power came back on again at 11:29 am.

The bastards watched me do research from their Centurylink terror HQ.

They saw that I was interested in that 1966 Disneyland Souvenir Map, the one that features the Space Mountain Attraction at the park, and is on the map, but was not actually there until 1977 according to online records, my recollection is that the Space Mountain Attraction was not completed and available to ride until the late 1980′s.

So, if you survived a visit to Disneyland in the 1960′s, and purchased one of those souvenir maps, then you wandered around the Disneyland Theme Park looking for Space Mountain because it was on the map, but no one ever saw the Space Mountain Attraction until about 20 years after it was put on the Disneyland map.

We could talk about just that little bit of Disney terror for a couple of days, and still not cover everything there is to know about the Space Mountain Attraction, why it was on a map, or why it was not actually present.

However, in absence of anyone who is interested in BIG TERROR enough to interview me about that, or other eye-witness Disney terror that is also documented on this Tumblr account, I just want to point out what I started to point out earlier when Pac Pow and Centurylink shut me down.

That is, that the source of Time Warp Terror happening on Twitter, can be traced to where it has happened in the past, two places are Chrysler, and Disneyland Buena Park.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Space_Mountain_(Magic_Kingdom)

At that Wikipedia page there is a lot of special wording specifically crafted to make confusion about the actual opening date, and about the construction of the Space Mountain Attraction.

Attraction.

Attraction.

Attraction.

It’s on the map in 1966. Is an attraction. Every kid there has a Disney map and is looking for the thing that is attracting them to ride the Space Mountain Ride Attraction.

Capture the children, train them as terror soldiers, use them as sex slaves, make “partner surgical experimental pet people” from the strongest of “Specimens”, and blame the parents for the disappearance of the children at the theme park.

That is the direction of research that is necessary when studying Disney.

I have seen the result of the “Partners” while at the Disney Buena Park location.

They kidnapped my children at the Disney theme park, I had to chase after the people who stole my children there. There is a access door within the Gettysburg Address Abraham Lincoln attraction on Mainstreet USA at Disney Buena Park. That door leads to where Micheal Eisner’s office is at, and there are Partner victims in there to serve his desires.

=================================

1:30 pm:

https://twitter.com/BorisJohnson/status/1354505365250068483

This and some other Tweets from the Johnson Twitter account and others referencing discussion between Boris Johnson and Joe Biden is the source of many attacks at my home. Today’s double whammy power outage was one of the things that these Tweets ordered to happen through Twitter used as a medium for saying terror command murder hit orders.

Climate Leadership is about “new Clear Weapons”, nitrous oxide, medazolam, other “boutique” custom airborne gasses. There are gasses that produce a wide variety of symptoms when exposed to them, one of them causes instant super powerful laxative symptoms, “holy shit gas?”... I don’t know what they call that one. There is a “boutique” “new clear weapon” called “Sewer Gas”, that one makes the same symptoms as Sea Sickness, nausea, vertigo, head ache, light sensitivity, other sea sickness symptoms, but without the vomiting, lasts about four hours. The “new clear weapons” give an attacker an advantage, while rendering the victims unable to defend themselves. The gasses also produce long term symptoms such as the rash I have on my shin, is very painful, comes with swelling of the leg, and internal burning sensation that is frightening, makes the victim go to a doctor, where they are exterminated in a highly controlled environment.

net zero = internet hero = someone who is trying to say details of Britain/SAG terrorism and mass murder.

2050 = “two-piece” = cut someone in two parts = remove head = cut in two at the waist... any “two-piece” human condition made possible with a blade or wire snare, or other means to make a cut.

“protect 30% of land and ocean by 2030″:

Three miles out off shore is International Waters.

There are two shores in the sentence, water is between.

The “0″ is the water for this one.

It’s symbolic of: “Protect the international terror army who are pirates, and who kill everyone”, is a reasonable translation in English.

Johnson says he wants to meet Biden at my house with the part about “I look forward...”

So, those are two opposing terror army’s who are in alliance, made an agreement that both of the opposing armies share a common interest, and that is to kill me, because I keep fouling up their terror mass murdering that they are doing, and are actually both terror army’s are in competition with one another for Global Domination.

Boris Johnson is secretly part of the Donald Trump/Pope Benedict Vatican/SAG/Canadian/Britain terror army, while Joe Biden is part of the Britain/SAG/Canadian/Pope Francis (Bergoglio) Vatican/Google terror army.

The main difference between the two army’s, is that the Johnson team is pro-Pope Benedict, a German Pope, while the Biden team is pro-Francis (Bergoglio/Google), a fake, Screen Actor Guild Pope.

The thing about Pope Francis and company, is they hijacked the Vatican, from Christian Pirates who have 2021 years of pirating experience of Christian Crusades terror... the real McCoy Christian Pirates.

Meanwhile, the real Christian Pirates don‘t want to spoil the front of Christianity that has been working so well for them for 2021 years so far, so, those guys are OK with learning about who are the idiots who are stepping on their toes. It could take some time, but eventually, the Joe Biden Screen Actor Guild variety of actors who think they only hijacked the Vatican, head Christians, but actually walked in on... ohhh... a den of Lions. so to speak... the Biden’s are all going to slowly disappear, while the Benedict teams clean things up nice and quiet, over time, is no big deal for them, they have been pirates for 2021 years.

My read of the bigger picture, includes that SAG was supposed to do some “contract work” for Britain, starting pretty much with assassination of JFK, and they did their jobs as they were supposed to do for many decades. Then, something changed at Screen Actor Guild HQ. They got greedy, they wanted more power, more control, maybe learned some secret details of the reasons why Britain hired them to command the Canadian terror army...

So, the SAG decided to create some circumstances on their own. The result seems to have been that Jorge Bergoglio, an actor from Aarrgentina, became Pope, and is a Screen Actor Guild member, is mostly Democrat, and he stepped in where Pope Benedict was at, in the lead guitar position on stage at the Vatican Choir playing a Gibson 1958 Flying V through a stack of Marshall Plexi’s, with ample selection of effect peddles for custom tonality at the Choir Show.

“Those pesky Screen Actor Guild members are going Rogue” said the head Benedict.

“What should we do, boss?” said the Cardinals and Bishops.

“We are going to give them enough rope, that they all hang themselves” said the head Benedict.

He went on to say: “That takes us off of the menu at the fish restaurant, we are just going to ride around on the coat tails of the SAG Rogue fools. That way, they will take the heat, for everything we are going to continue to do, as per usual, standard Crusade pirate work that we do for taking over the world”

And so it’s working out where the Christian Front that was once in control of the OG Original Gangster (Benedict) Christian Pirates, is now the front that is being controlled by the Bergoglio SAG team, who brought Google with them, so, the Benedict team likes that, they can access everything Google is doing the same way that the SAG Bergolio’s can. And, the Benedict team can do that, while being a Ghost Ship, where the Bergoglio SAG team cannot figure out why so many things go wrong so often for them, as the Benedict team just stays quiet, looking innocent, and fouling up the activity of the Bergoglio’s as needed, while keeping them out front, in the limelight.

Both teams were recently all exposed to one another.

The Bergoglio’s were not prepared for the reality that the Benedict team really are pirates, who have been mass murdering in the name of God for 2021 years. While the Benedict Team has always known exactly WT actual F is going on, the Bergoglio’s only thought it was a British thing, to do contract work of commanding the British terror army, that is Canada, for taking over USA, where they were promised a leading role at the end of the show.

The SAG got greedy, wanted the whole Chi-Wah-Wah.

now the Biden team (SAG) is seeing that Trump drained the Treasury and Reserve, again, and he is screwed, no money.

=============================

3:00 pm:

This is good time for any readers of this account, to “Step the Fuck Back”.

Have a look at the boat.

The explanation above, should explain who Donald Trump is, and why he was sent to take over at the White House.

One of the biggest problems everyone on earth faces with stepping back to have a look at the ship, is that we are seeing the news, as it appeared about in 2008.

Time Warp Terror.

So, we are all looking at this boat, maybe want to buy it, clean it up, make some repairs on the thing, a new mast, new rudder, put a nice wood steering wheel at the helm, the kind with finger gription, and re-do the upholstery, but, the add we are seeing is from an old newspaper classified.

That is the problem with buying the boat. All of the information about it, including it’s current location, is a mystery and may not be accurately depicting the condition of the boat as it looks today.

When Donald Trump landed that TV show called The Apprentice, that time there, within the SAG, was a preparatory time period for him to take the reigns, get into a position to right the Vatican Flying V pirate ship after Mutiny when SAG got greedy at some point.

The name of the show, “The Apprentice” is enough that all of the real pirates, non-SAG British ones, could lend a hand in their own ways without ever having to say a single word about anything they were up to.

So, what we need to also understand, is just as Donald Trump was there, in the world, was already in the kinds of powerful positions that he was in at the time of landing The Apprentice, there are other powerful people, today, in positions of leverage. They are British Knights, as is, or was, Donald Trump.

I was made to believe that Donald Trump exploded in a Bus at the Fred Meyer gas station along with Mark Kiesel of Kiesel Guitars and two or three other people on January 6 2021. The Bus exploded nearby the Josephine County Sheriff’s Office, best guess for the location it blew up is on Beacon Dr. at where the Department of Motor Vehicles is at across from Fred Meyer Department Store. It was a big explosion, but was out of view. I saw Mark Keisel and recognized him at the gas station getting into the bus. I heard the sound of Donald Trump’s voice from withing the Bus. I encountered other musicians that day at the Walgreen’s. I saw someone who looked like Paul Reed Smith at the Walgreen‘s, but, the man looked too old, otherwise was Paul Reed Smith, of PRS Guitars, who I already fought once while inside the jail on June 16, when he, Lars Ulrich, Zakk Wylde, and John Mayer all attacked me in the jail. Paul had rope, and was getting ready to tie it to the second floor railing, while Zakk and John each took a whack at me with a three bladed sword they call a “Trident”. Lars attacked later with the Trident. Those other three were all at once, when Zakk dropped the Trident, John picked it up. I was able to just turn the thing around without ever holding it myself. Same thing happened when Lars took a whack at me, I just did what I do, turned it around without ever holding it.

Paul may not have died that day as I thought he did.

The thing I remember the most about that day, is as those three guys were approaching me at the lunch tables, there was the tiniest little ant on the ground under where I was sitting, cruising for corn bread crumbs on the jail floor.

It was a “Blue Screen” event. Eight Sheriff deputies busted my door in on June 15, I was taken to the jail, arrested for something that never happened, so that I would be within that highly controlled environment for those SAG assassins to kill me the following day. It backfired, and I don‘t know why they allowed me to leave after all of that.

===

That is the condition of part of the boat.

It’s in bad shape.

Did Donald Trump explode with Kiesel? Or was his voice planted into the Bus for me and others to hear? I did not see him, I only heard his voice.

=================================================

5:41 pm:

https://www.chicagomusicexchange.com/collections/price-drops?utm_campaign=Used%2FVintage%20New%20Arrivals%20%2B%20Price%20Drops%20%2B%20Sell%2FTrade%20Bumper%2027012021%20%28Y5RfjA%29&utm_medium=email&utm_source=Klaviyo&_ke=eyJrbF9jb21wYW55X2lkIjogIlZLeWZ4WCIsICJrbF9lbWFpbCI6ICJzdG9uZS5tYW4ud2FycmlvckBnbWFpbC5jb20ifQ%3D%3D#/filter:ss_cleaned_tags_item_condition:Vintage/filter:ss_cleaned_tags_item_condition:Used

https://www.chicagomusicexchange.com/products/verellen-loucks-50-watt-tube-head-serial-948-used-707872

It’s a hit piece at Chicago Music Exchange.

The progression of screenshots there lead from email to my inbox, to CME, then have a look around, see some interesting items, then this thing, the Verellen 50 Watt Head, (#948).

It’s a one channel amp, has four volume knobs.

Two transformers, one of them is crooked.

There is a: “ Foot-switchable od boost drops additional gain for big distorted sounds (footswitch included)”

The foot-switch has a green light on it. That means the switch requires a battery. The battery is only necessary to power the green light.

(#948 makes this a personally threatening situation for me, I don’t want to say how or why)

It’s a fake amplifier. Costs $1,965, is a Dodge Power Wagon on it’s way to Disneyland Buena Park and is using a old map to get there:

This one. (do research at Eastwood Guitars “Map” model to learn more about connectivity)

https://www.chicagomusicexchange.com/products/national-newport-82-pepper-red-1960s-726679

Some things to consider include that CME has some of the coolest old music gear. The kind of music gear that elderly and disabled Medicare Part-D beneficiaries have in their closets from way back in the day.

YouTube personality Bonzoleum used to work at CME. I met him in California before, is interesting story, I am saving that one. He does drum lessons and other drum related sort of discussions on YouTube. One thing he does, is puts his wallet on his snare drum. He also makes sure everyone knows he is particularly fond of “Paiste 2002″ Cymbals, that translates to money basically. So, he is saying that he is the guy to talk to when the disabled and elderly people have some old vintage drums and cymbals when they are killed by the SAG assassins.

CME is the same as Bonzoleum, but they handle all kinds of disabled and elderly music gear when SAG assassins kill them.

That Verellon means they are after one particular piece of equipment at my house, and they know stuff about it that I don’t even know unless I go look real close at it.

https://www.chicagomusicexchange.com/products/tokai-flying-v-white-2008-lefty-1103082

The V guitar is pretty darn cool at less than $600. It’s a left handed flying V with only two control knobs, and that one features the very hard to find “stubby” head-stock.

The “Stubby” head-stock is lopsided when you look close.

All in all, that guitar says: “Things at the White House are backwards, upside down, and British”.

There are tigers there, but are the tigers are from “Whinnie the Pooh Hundred Acre Woods”, so, Eeyore (democrats) are in some kind of trouble, Piglet could be having some problems, there is probably a “honey shortage” there, there is only one “T-I-Double Ga-Er” at Hundred Acre Woods, so, in addition to other Twitter news about Super Bowl this week, you can know that Lady Gaga (SAG; Nancy Sinatra) is also having some problems, according to Chicago Music Exchange Promotional Email today. That, and Christopher Robin is said to be a singers vocal coach who lives in Hollywood, is common knowledge.

The main issue is at WH is about that Rabbit at Hundred Acre Woods, I forget what the name of the rabbit is.

https://www.chicagomusicexchange.com/products/vox-ac-30-super-twin-amp-set-1964-974268

That VOX AC 30 1964 is holy grail grade amplifier, and is in perfect condition for it’s age. It’s a British amp, why is the British Holy Grail Amp on the bargain table at the Seventh Day Adventist Church Yard Sale? (maybe this is representation of my former spouse, who never told me she was a terrorist bitch, had to find out the hard way).

(there is a Tweet somewhere on Twitter today that describes the situation, is from a high level of government leadership news, I cannot find it right now. It says something about: “Everything is on the table”. Maybe I can find it later.)

So, those parts are national, global, USA, Canada, Vatican (maybe the Flying V guitar speaks about Vatican, not White House, I say it speaks about both Vatican and White House, with some money in between, a “bargain” of sorts between WH and Vatican Bank being “a little short”.

There is more to see and decode at CME. I only showed the highlights.

================================

7:18 pm:

https://twitter.com/ABCNewsLive/status/1354588611929366530

https://twitter.com/ABC/status/1354627024132911109

I am too optimistic.

The two stories combined along with some other Twitter news seems to be really good news, it looks like the Canadian (Trudeau) terror bastards who took over Wall Street are down range, could be on the menu. I saw some other tweets about “Tags”, so that’s “Elmer Fudd at the NYSE” all licensed for some big game hunting, Mario Brothers are downrange, and Elmer has a Weatherby side-by-side breach barrel, Italia model, with gold hardware trim, engraved. Too Big To Fail may be just right for dinner.

That would be good. ================

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r9pra4PRug0

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KcGP0nXPQ70

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tMlKmELIhgY

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4lT4Omk510

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KnyHxb_3nT4

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rG0Ws3YfONY

=======================================

8:49 pm:

https://twitter.com/NBCNews/status/1354647937821847553

That seems to say that even the Mormons are out of business, Romney won’t be King after all.

I am too optimistic.

We are doomed.

There are no helpful people anywhere around here, computer and phones are still hijacked, no help has come, Twitter is still tweeting, and I am still trying to reach Pittsburgh.

There is no response from anyone, ever, other than the assassins the government sends to kill me.

Today and yesterday the terror bastards are releasing some gas that makes symptoms of overwhelming desire to lay down and fall asleep. Is more powerful than nitrous oxide, is outside, comes into the house from use of the forced air heating, and the negative air pressure inside the house caused by the return air vent draws in the gas through crack around the weatherstripping, and chimney, and other small holes.

See recent Twitter news at major network, State Department, and especially from press secretary @jrpsaki about “Climate Change” and one particular tweet I am looking for yesterday that said something about “we have some new, more powerful tools” or similar statement somewhere at a leading network or government office at Twitter, for possible talk of use of stronger, anesthetic gasses for attack on Jackpine.

The new press secretary looks remarkably similar to Rena Myers formerly of 560 Jackpine dr. Daughter of Juseph Myers. I would give the same description for both of them.