#passersby: motorbikers

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

chinese hanfu model invites passersby to take pictures with her (cr: 弥秋君miqiujun)

#china #video #douyin #hanfu #fashion #passersby: motorbikers #grandpa playing cards on the roadside #girl at the cafe #audio #music #chinese fashion #qipao #armor

[malecprscene]

Richard 20 years old. He was unconscious after being locked in the sauna room, His friend found him and was immediately taken to hospital. When he got there the doctor administered first aid to the man and he survived . The doctor diagnosed that he had hypoxia because he was in a closed and hot room.

Luca 22 years old. He was found drowned when the motorbike he was riding lost control and entered the lake, and it turned out he couldn't swim. Thankfully passersby saw him and took him to hospital, and doctors administered first aid to the man and he survived.

Macro 21 years old. He drowned after falling from a ski boat, then the coast guard immediately took him to the beach clinic to get first aid and he finally survived.

Brian 24 years old. He became unconscious after he accidentally touched a cable and ended up being electrocuted. His family immediately took him to the hospital to receive first aid and he finally survived

#male cpr #cpr #chest compressions #ai art #ai image

[melon-official]

imagine a squid that can't afford a motorbike but multiple reef sliders instead so they're just repeatedly activating canned reef sliders all the way downtown

local inkling sued by 54 recently exploded passersby

#ramen water #my ocs #dewdles #thanks for the ask

[hobisfavoritespritecan]

Let Me In

Steve Harrington X Eddie Munson

Eddie wants so badly to tell Steve the pressing matters on his mind. So much so that he's willing to bike all the way in the rain to show him just how he feels.

⚠️ Warnings: Slight Angst, mentions of scars, kinda sexual wording?⚠️

The rain poured and poured nonstop outside of the Family Video Store. It was dark and dreary, but when it was matched with the most spontaneous bike ride and a Walkman that played Iron Maiden, it was just perfect. The puddles splashed around as the new droplets of water joined the ground, making short tapping noises almost as if the sky was speaking in Morose Code. The night was just starting to fall which meant that the sky was a dark and hazy blue-grey, a calming and pretty sight to passersby. The stars were just starting to peek out as they twinkled onto the dark pavement below. The only thing that lit up the lot was the Family Video Store fluorescent lighting which shone on the cracks and pebbles of the pavement Eddie rode on, bike wheels slightly scuffing up the earth. His curly brown hair was now down to his shoulders since it was wet beyond belief and his clothes were equally soaked. His Hellfire Club shirt stuck to his midsection and his black ripped jeans became ten times heavier with the weight of the water holding him down. Still, he pushed through as he caught a glimpse of the writing on his shoes, urging him to go on. In the whitest parts of the soles Steve had written him little phrases. The little doodles of stars and smiley faces added to the butterflies starting to form in the pit of Eddie's chest as he knew what he was about to do.

The bike made a scraping noise as he came to an immediate halt the moment he made it to the front doors. He couldn't wait until he could exchange it for a motorbike of sorts, once he graduated highschool once and for all that is. Until then, the red chipped paint and the handlebars that locked up with every given chance would have to suffice. Throwing the transportation device onto the sidewalk, Eddie gave himself a slight pep talk before he went into the store. The movie posters that had been printed on the windows added to the feeling of excitement when he noticed one of them was The Evil Dead. Fiddling with the rings on one of his hands, he shook his wrist as the anxiety of the situation finally hit him. Still raining, he knew his slight eyeliner must've run down his face and would most likely cause a scene once he was inside the familiar store. Hopefully, since it was just closing, Eddie would be able to get in undetected via lack of customers.

Pushing open the doors, a bell resounds throughout the entirety of the small building, signifying the presence of someone entering. The carpet looked the same as he remembered, dirty and printed with that horrid triangular design exclusive to the 80's. However, even though the front desk stayed the same, the rest of the displays had been moved around expertly to accommodate all of the vhs tapes that littered the shelves. Eddie pushed on further inside, starting to regret his decision until his eyes made direct contact with Steve "The Hair" Harrington, wearing the most ridiculous green vest.

It felt as though time itself had stopped as if Eddie and Steve were the only beings in the world. Steve's hair was everywhere which told the metalhead that he had been stressed and ripping at his hair again. His light blue polo underneath the horrendous work attire brought out the phenomenal golden color of his skin and his dark brown eyes looked Eddie up and down. From the tips of his toes to the hair on his head, Steve took everything in and drank it into his memory, keeping it there as if he needed to remember every minute detail about Eddie and his physicality. The leather jacket under his patched up denim and his ridiculous perm that seemed to be exclusive to the music nerds of Hawkins High. The bats that were hidden under Eddie's clothing called out to Steve in an odd way, as if his fingers burned from the possibility of being able to graze over that portion of Eddie's skin.

Eddie offered up a slight smile to which the other boy returned, a grin that had melted the hearts of many and offered a sort of solace for the kids Eddie played D&D with. Steve was very handsome, he thought. It made him want to melt into the floor everytime he got to see the smile that showed off his brilliant teeth.

"Ahoy!- er- shit that was my last job, sorry." Steve chuckled and pushed the hair that was falling into his eyes away from his face, tucking a strand of it behind his ear as he leant on the red desk from behind. The telephone on the right of his arm was just as red as the counter and presumably Eddie's cheeks by this point. Thinking about Harrington was one thing, seeing him in the flesh was another.

"Ah it's okay, I didn't come to rent a movie." Eddie put one of his feet in front of the other, gently tapping the sole to the tip of the shoe in an anxious manner. He tried to look at anything but the beautiful boy in front of him, finding it excruciatingly hard for him to think about anything else. The ceiling tiles, the movies, the floor, the telephone, everything was so disinteresting compared to the radiance of Steve Harrington. Eddie was torn from his thoughts the moment he saw the pen lettering on his shoe.

'Never change, Munson.'

Steve had written that with a borrowed pen from Robin at one of Eddie's Corroded Coffin shows. He had played a total of two songs and there were about ten people who showed, but Steve was one of them. Eddie wouldn't have had it any other way; watching the popular boy glance at him over his guitar, tongue slightly escaping his lips as he glanced at Eddie's hands which were put to work on the strings, playing the familiar Metallica tune.

"What can I do for you then, Eddie? ...Did you bike here?" Steve asked, voice laced with slight concern. It never failed to make Eddie's insides twist and turn into something one could only describe as pure and utter admiration for another human being.

"I-I-" He began, but got lost in the words. How would he come clean about his feelings? How would he possibly be able to put into words the exact way he felt whenever Steve drove him to school or when he would smile at him from afar? How would he be able to get Steve to comprehend how he felt when he came to one of his shows? How would Eddie put into words how badly he wanted to touch Steve beyond the friendly handshakes and fist bumps?

"I think I might have a sweater lying around somewhere in the back if you want some dry clothes." Steve started to flip up the corner of the desk so he could walk out to the break room. He was wearing those stupid khakis that were so exclusive to the father community of Hawkins that Eddie would've had to suppress a laugh if he wasn't so invigorated with the current task at hand. Moving towards him, he threw all caution to the wind as he grabbed the other boy's hand, stopping him from moving any further and replacing the comfortable expression on his face with one of confusion. Steve's brows were furrowed but his hands and face were hot unbeknownst to the metalhead. This was the closest they had been in proximity by themselves, without the familiar screaming of the kids or the incessant nagging from Robin and Nancy. Just pure and utter silence and two boys looking for the right words to say.

"Steve."

"Eddie."

Eddie shifted in his spot, moving his jacket up with his shoulders and uncomfortably being awkward. Suddenly the store seemed hot and suffocating, the walls closing in on the two of them in his mind. Yet even with this sense of claustrophobia, he wanted to get even closer to Steve and to feel his hot breath exhaling against his skin and to feel the heat of him flush against his chest. To play with the hair that was always freshly sprayed with Farrah Faucet and the trace over the imperfections on his skin. Every scar, freckle, and mole on his body yearned to be touched by Steve's lips and the thought alone made him shudder in excitement. He knew he had to say this now before he was never able to again.

"I think-"

"Think what?" Steve harmlessly glanced at his face once more, trying to pick out what it was he was feeling.

"I think I feel more towards you than just a friend." Eddie finally let the words roll off his tongue and into the open air, surrounding the two of them as though they were music notes, echoing inside his mind and bouncing off the body of the boy in front of him. For a moment, Eddie felt relieved but quickly composed himself as he awaited a response.

Steve felt very very weird. He had never felt this type of way in his life, being at an indecision of what to do. He didn't know whether to freak out and shun away the thoughts he knew he had about Eddie months prior to his confession, or to accept it and let the boy know he felt the same. This would change everything and yet, it would change nothing. Eddie was so gorgeous. His hair was still dripping onto the floor that Steve was supposed to clean up after his shift, which ended twenty minutes ago. The chains and patches loosely placed onto his jeans and jacket made Steve's insides go wild at the thought of tracing over them with his hands, cautiously wondering what they would feel like under his tongue. But- despite all this- he remained expressionless, glued to his spot and not saying anything.

Eddie felt his heart break. He felt every inch of his chest erupt into fire, killing the butterflies that stemmed from his admiration and longing and anxiousness. It was all too much for him to handle. The worst part was knowing that he would have to go on as though nothing ever happened between him and the King of Hawkins High. As if every aching of his heart wasn't pointed in the direction of the one person on earth he'd wanted to be his lover since day one.

Turning around, he walked out of Family Video. The sky was now fully dark and the rain still beat against the windows, his bike now fully wet with the water that sloshed down from the gutters on the roof and the water that filled the puddles in the pavement. His heart felt similar to that in a way- just an open cavity slowly drowning from the inside out.

"Eddie!" Steve shouted from the door, but Eddie didn't want to hear it. He mounted his bike with tears in his eyes, mixing with the rain that fell from the clouds overhead. He paid no mind to Steve, who was now in the rain with him. It wasn't until he started to ride off that Steve knew he couldn't let him go. He couldn't just allow him to think that he didn't feel the same longing as he did. As if he didn't think about loving him in every extremity. Running faster, Steve managed to stand in Eddie's direction with his arms held out in an attempt to stop him from going any further. The tears threatening to spill from eyes became too much as Steve allowed them to fall, an emotion he didn't portray often.

"Eddie. I think about you that way too!"

The metalhead hopped off the bike. Standing just a few feet apart from the boy he'd grown to love, he felt the water escaping his lungs as the universe allowed him to breathe again. It was as if someone had conducted a surgery on his heart and fixed him and all the spontaneity he held within him before. All because Steve said the three words that he'd thought walking into the video store tonight.

"I love you."

And there it was. Rain still pouring relentlessly and both boys with cheeks so red you'd think they'd gotten a sunburn in the middle of autumn, there it was. The raw and beautiful emotion of two lovers who had been torn apart by society but still found a way back to one another. A couple of hesitant footsteps in front of them and the soft sobs that could be heard from Steve pushed the couple closer and closer until eventually the thoughts of tasting one another became actions. The thoughts of love and emotion became words and the intensity of their attraction became feverish as they allowed themselves to consume each other in their grasp under the harsh rain.

"I wish you hadn't waited so long to tell me that, Harrington. Otherwise, I would've been right here this whole time." Eddie said, wiping a stray tear away from his face once they broke away. A slight chuckle left him as he took in Steve's flustered but beautiful state. His hair was flatter than a pancake against his head and it made Eddie love him even more knowing that he willingly followed him out in the rain even at the expense of his hair.

"May I kiss you again?" Steve asked ever so softly, finally allowing him to voice the emotions he'd been feeling for so long.

"Of course." Eddie said, smiling and leaning in for another one.

The sky crackled above with a beautiful blue and purple lightning, shining down over the lovers who felt just as electric as the weather.

#Spotify #fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things blurb #stranger things imagine #stranger things fluff #stranger things one shot #hobisfavoritespritecan

[ezracapamalabanan]

REFLECTION ESSAY

"Never forget"

Every hour we learn something, there is a reason why it happens for us to learn. This story that I learned is one that I will never forget. In September 2023, I remember that me and my boyfriend were so happy that day because we were spending a lot of time and day bonding because after that day was the weekend, but that day I thought happy was one of those who would bring me trauma.

So this is my story that gave me more lessons. My boyfriend picked me up from school after class to bond together. We talked about whether we should go home first to change our outfits so that we can be comfortable with what the bonding will do. But we agreed not to because it would not be a waste of gas and the time would be long enough to get confused and lost. So we went to the mall to bond together and go around and buy other personal items. After that, we talked about going for rides because what we see is that the weather is good because it's not that hot. But while we were on the trip, we didn't expect it to rain heavily, but we were ready for the rain when we brought a raincoat. We stopped next to stop and put on a raincoat, and we decided to wait for the rain first because we were thinking that we might be damaged by the heavy rain and cause an accident.When the rain stopped, we continued riding, and we ate at the restaurant we passed. That karenderya makes me happy because, for the cheap price, the food here is still very tasty, like I feel in a restaurant, because that food brings me to heaven. I really appreciate food, even if it's cheap or expensive. After we eat and also date, we decide to go home because we just want to watch Netflix and chill at the house. While the boyfriend was driving, there were a lot of signals that we were going through trouble. I heard some shouting on the road as if my feelings were restless. When we were on the highway, we were so happy because we were so excited to watch Netflix, and the unexpected happened. Stop light only a few seconds left; green light all of the motorcycle is running fast, and we are already there. Not far from the crossing, we didn't expect that there was oil on the road that was spreading, and no one gave a warning to the passersby, and that's when we stopped. After all of what happened, I feel like the world has gone silent; I can't hear anything but silence, and I see a car wheel that is very close to me on my side. That happened to make me cry, and it still made me feel soft, but I showed my boyfriend that I am a strong woman, and at that time I didn't feel any pain from anything. But a woman told me that I should sit because He said I had a big wound on my leg, and that's when I felt the pain in my whole body, but I tried to make it okay so that it wouldn't add to my pain, but there was only one thing I mentioned: at that time, the word medic was not. It turns out that you were the only one who had the accident; there were many motorbikes ahead of us. I can't look at my foot with a wound because, when I see it, it only adds to the pain. Until we got home, I hid it from my parents so I wouldn't be surprised by what happened. I tried to be okay, but I couldn't, and I was able to tell my parents what really happened with my boyfriend, and we decided that I should rest first and not go in to heal my wound.

I learned and realized what happened to me: first, always pray before you leave or go everywhere. The second is to always follow the law and follow dress codes for safety, and lastly, always tell your parents what really happened to you so they will help you. That is my story that made me realize and learn.

TRAVELOGUE

"Exploring Baguio's Charm"

Nestled amidst the mountains of the Cordillera region in the Philippines, Baguio City is a place of enchantment and wonder. Its natural beauty, cultural heritage, and vibrant markets draw travelers from far and wide. Join me on a journey as we explore some of Baguio's most iconic spots, from the scenic Mines View to the bustling Baguio Market, and the charming colorful houses that line its streets.

First stop is the Mines View Park and this is my favorite place that I always want to see. As the sun peers over the horizon, I found myself standing at Mines View Park, an elevated vantage point that offers a breathtaking panorama of the city and its surroundings. The remnants of the city's mining past are visible below, with abandoned mines dotting the landscape. The cool mountain breeze and the sight of the majestic mountains in the distance create a sense of tranquility and awe, making Mines View Park a must-visit spot in Baguio.

Our family next stop is the Burnham Park. The heart of Baguio beats at Burnham Park, a verdant oasis in the midst of the city. At the center of the park lies Burnham Lake, its shimmering waters reflecting the beauty of the surrounding landscape. Visitors can partake in boat rides on the lake, savor a leisurely stroll along its promenades, or simply relax amidst nature's embrace. The laughter of children, the chirping of birds, and the fragrance of flowers fill the air, creating a serene retreat for all who visit.

Our 3rd stop is the Baguio market. Step into the vibrant tapestry of Baguio Market, where colors, aromas, and flavors collide in a sensory feast. Stalls brim with fresh fruits, vegetables, and local handicrafts, creating a bustling hub of activity. Sample the succulent strawberries and juicy mangoes, or immerse yourself in the vibrant tapestry of textiles and souvenirs. The market pulses with the energy of local vendors and eager shoppers, offering a glimpse into Baguio's vibrant culture and culinary heritage.

Our 4th stop is the Lion's Head. Guarding the entrance to Baguio is the imposing figure of Lion's Head, a symbol of strength and pride. Carved out of limestone, the majestic lion stands tall against the backdrop of the mountains, welcoming visitors with open arms. Tourists flock to the site to capture photos with this iconic landmark, marking their journey to the City of Pines. The rugged beauty of Lion's Head serves as a testament to Baguio's resilience and enduring spirit.

Our last travel is the colorful houses. Wandering through the streets of Baguio, one cannot help but be captivated by the charming array of colorful houses that line the cityscape. Each house is a work of art, painted in vibrant hues of red, blue, yellow, and green, adding a whimsical touch to the city's ambiance. Flowers bloom in window boxes, and decorations adorn the facades, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that delights the eye. The colorful houses of Baguio reflect the creativity and warmth of its residents, making it a truly unique and inviting destination.

As the day draws to a close, I carry with me the memories of Baguio's enchanting charm – from the panoramic views of Mines View Park to the serenity of Burnham Park, the vibrant energy of Baguio Market, the iconic presence of Lion's Head, and the whimsical beauty of the colorful houses. Baguio City is a tapestry of experiences and emotions, waiting to be explored and cherished by all who set foot in this magical mountain retreat.

LITERARY JOURNALISM

" First US-Japan-Philippines summit to boost defense ties"

In a groundbreaking display of unity and strategic partnership, the inaugural US-Japan-Philippines summit marks a pivotal moment in the realm of international relations, as the three nations come together to bolster their defense ties and enhance regional security. This historic convergence of diplomatic forces resonates with the echoes of camaraderie and shared objectives, painting a vivid portrait of collaboration and solidarity in the Asia-Pacific region.

The US-Japan-Philippines summit stands as a beacon of strength and fortitude in the face of evolving global challenges, akin to a well-fortified fortress that shields the participating nations from the winds of uncertainty and adversity. Just as a fortress offers protection and security to those within its walls, this trilateral alliance seeks to fortify its defense capabilities and fortify its commitment to upholding peace and stability in the region.

The spirit of cooperation and partnership dances gracefully across the negotiating table, as leaders from the US, Japan, and the Philippines engage in dialogue and deliberation, imbuing the summit with a sense of vitality and purpose. The alliance itself takes on a life of its own, embodying a shared vision of security and prosperity that transcends national boundaries and individual interests.

The US-Japan-Philippines summit emerges as a symbolic gesture of unity and solidarity, casting a bright light on the importance of multilateral cooperation in addressing pressing security challenges. Like a beacon in the darkness, this alliance illuminates a path forward towards a more secure and resilient future for the Asia-Pacific region, signaling a shared commitment to upholding peace, stability, and the rule of law.

In conclusion, the first US-Japan-Philippines summit to boost defense ties serves as a testament to the power of collaboration and collective action in fostering regional security and prosperity. Through the use of metaphor, personification, and symbolism, we can unravel the layers of complexity and significance inherent in this momentous occasion, capturing the essence of unity, strength, and shared purpose that define the alliance between the US, Japan, and the Philippines. As this trilateral partnership continues to evolve and deepen, may it serve as a shining example of the transformative potential of international cooperation in navigating the challenges of the 21st century global landscape.

MEMOIR

" Reflections on a Year of Resilience During COVID-19 Pandemic"

As the world was plunged into chaos and uncertainty by the relentless spread of the COVID-19 pandemic, I found myself navigating through uncharted waters, grappling with fear, isolation, and loss. The invisible enemy had disrupted lives, shattered dreams, and tested the resilience of individuals and communities worldwide. Join me on a journey through the trials and triumphs of a year defined by the shadow of COVID-19.

The first whispers of the pandemic arrived like a distant storm, foreboding and ominous. As headlines blared with news of a novel coronavirus sweeping across continents, I felt a knot of anxiety tighten in my chest. The once-familiar routines of daily life evaporated as lockdowns were enforced, borders closed, and faces masked. The world as we knew it had shifted, leaving us adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, as isolation became the new norm. The walls of my home became both sanctuary and prison, echoing with the silence of solitude. Time stretched and warped, blurring the lines between yesterday, today, and tomorrow. In the stillness of solitude, I found myself confronting fears, unearthing buried emotions, and reevaluating priorities. The pandemic had forced me to confront my vulnerabilities and rediscover my strength.

Amidst the darkness of the pandemic, rays of light pierced through in the form of acts of kindness and resilience. Communities came together in solidarity, neighbors reached out to help one another, and frontline workers battled tirelessly on the front lines. Random acts of kindness – from sharing groceries with a neighbor to applauding healthcare workers from balconies – served as reminders of the indomitable human spirit. In the face of adversity, kindness and resilience shone like beacons of hope.

As I reflect on a year overshadowed by the specter of COVID-19, I am reminded of the resilience, compassion, and strength that emerged in the face of adversity. The pandemic had tested us in ways we could never have imagined, pushing us to the brink of despair and uncertainty. Yet, amidst the darkness, there were moments of light – acts of kindness, resilience, and courage that restored my faith in humanity. As we continue to navigate the uncertain road ahead, I carry with me the lessons learned, the memories forged, and the indomitable spirit that has sustained us through the storm.

FACIAL RECOGNITION

"The Sloop Nose: A Sister's Punch and a Symbol of Resilience"

The story of his sloop nose is not just a tale of physical transformation but a narrative of resilience and sibling bonds. The unique curve of his nose, caused by a punch from his sister, holds deeper significance in shaping his identity and relationships. Let's delve into the story of his sloop nose and the impact of his sister's punch on his life.

The sloop nose, a distinctive feature resulting from a forceful punch by his sister, marks a significant moment in their shared history. What began as a playful exchange between siblings took an unexpected turn, leaving a lasting imprint on his appearance. The curve of his nose, once a source of physical alteration, now stands as a symbol of strength and resilience.

The impact of his sloop nose goes beyond its visual aspect, serving as a testament to the bond between him and his sister. The incident that led to its formation represents a moment of conflict turned into a story of endurance and acceptance. Through the visible mark of his sloop nose, he carries a reminder of the complexities and connections within sibling relationships. Despite its unconventional shape, his sloop nose holds a place of pride in his identity. It is a reminder of the shared experiences, challenges overcome, and the unbreakable bond that exists between siblings. The sloop nose not only reflects a physical alteration but also embodies the emotional strength and resilience that define their relationship.

In conclusion, the sloop nose, a result of his sister's punch, is more than a cosmetic change—it is a symbol of resilience and enduring family ties. The curve of his nose represents a journey of transformation and acceptance, turning a moment of conflict into a story of connection and strength. As he wears his sloop nose with pride, he carries with him the reminder of the profound impact of shared experiences and the unbreakable bond between siblings. The sloop nose stands as a testament to the power of love, forgiveness, and the lasting effects of a single punch that shaped more than just his physical appearance.

SELF OBITUARY

" A Life Remembered: A Self-Obituary"

In the tapestry of existence, I have played my part, weaving threads of love, laughter, and cherished memories. As I reflect on a life lived with purpose and passion, I invite you to join me in celebrating the moments that defined my journey and the legacy I leave behind.

My life's journey was a symphony of experiences, composed of highs and lows, joys and sorrows. From the dawn of my days to the twilight of my existence, I embraced every chapter with gratitude and grace. Through triumphs and trials, I emerged stronger, wiser, and more resilient, guided by the values that anchored my soul. At the heart of my narrative were the relationships that sculpted my identity and enriched my days. Family, friends, mentors—each held a unique place in the tapestry of my life, filling it with warmth, laughter, and profound connections. Their love and support were pillars of strength, sustaining me through life's storms and comforting me in moments of solitude.

As I reflect on the paths I traversed and the footprints I left behind, I find solace in the legacy I have built. My endeavors, however modest, contributed to the greater tapestry of humanity, leaving a mark of compassion, kindness, and empathy. I hope to be remembered not for the accolades I received, but for the kindness I extended and the hearts I touched along the way.

As I stand at the threshold of eternity, I bid farewell to the physical realm with a heart brimming with gratitude and a spirit at peace. This self-obituary is not a farewell, but a testament to a life well-lived, a story told, and a legacy cherished. May my memory linger in the hearts of those who knew me, a gentle whisper of the love, laughter, and light I shared. In the tapestry of life, my thread may fade, but the essence of who I was will endure, a beacon of hope and inspiration for those who follow in my footsteps. Thank you for being part of my story, and may my spirit find eternal rest in the embrace of the cosmos.

[warmbreezebliss]

The Bride On The Side Of The Road

As I walked to the main road Her white dress caught the corner of my eye She lay on her side covering her face Apparently crying softly into her handkerchief          Lying there motionless I wondered if I should approach her A soft whimper and muffled cries Drew the passersby and I   The motorbike taxi-men gathered Approaching her with caution One spoke up inquiring  of her fate She cried…

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[1829sblog]

Title: "The Journey of a Motorbike Enthusiast"

Page 1:

INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY

A normal day at JOHN'S (35 years old) house. He is a passionate motorbike enthusiast. The room is filled with motorcycle paraphernalia, trophies, and posters. John is sitting on the couch, browsing through his phone, excitedly planning his upcoming journey to Newquay.

Page 2:

INT. BATHROOM - DAY

John stands in front of the bathroom mirror, wearing a wetsuit, socks, t-shirt, and shorts. He looks at himself, slightly amused and shakes his head. He inserts ear plugs into his ears, muffling the noise of the outside world. John then inserts a mouth guard into his mouth, which slightly affects his voice, making it sound muffled and distorted.

Page 3:

EXT. TRAIN STATION - DAY

John arrives at the train station, wearing his balaclava, motorcycle boots, motorcycle helmet, and gloves. He walks confidently towards the platform, attracting curious glances from fellow passengers. Some people whisper to each other, intrigued by his unique attire.

Page 4:

INT. TRAIN - NIGHT

Inside the train, John finds his seat. He sits down and adjusts his ear plugs, completely shutting out the noise of the train. The other passengers steal glances at him, wondering about the purpose of his journey and the peculiar gear he is wearing.

Page 5:

INT. TRAIN STATION - 2 AM

John changes trains at 2 am, still wearing his full gear. He attracts even more attention as he navigates through the late-night crowd, standing out like a character from a different world.

Page 6:

EXT. NEWQUAY TRAIN STATION - MORNING

The train finally arrives at Newquay. John steps out of the train, his presence commanding attention. Passersby can't help but stare as he walks through the station, heading towards the car park.

Page 7:

EXT. NEWQUAY TRAIN STATION CAR PARK - MORNING

John reaches the car park and spots a shiny Yamaha R1, his newly purchased motorcycle. A smile spreads across his face as he approaches the bike. The seal man from the Lincoln Yamaha dealership hands him the keys, congratulating him on his purchase.

Page 8:

EXT. NEWQUAY STREETS - MORNING

John puts on his helmet and adjusts the tinted visor. The visor is a vibrant blue color, matching the sleek design of his motorcycle. He flips the visor down, blocking out the bright sunlight and changing his view of the world. As he rides through the streets of Newquay, the visor's tint creates a unique and surreal visual experience.

Page 9:

EXT. COASTAL ROADS - DAY

John continues his journey on the Yamaha R1, with the tinted visor still down. The changing view and color of the world through the visor adds an extra layer of excitement to his ride. Other motorists and pedestrians can't help but notice the distinctive tint of his visor, making him stand out on the road.

Page 10:

INT. JOHN'S MIND - DAY

As John rides, his mind drifts into a state of pure bliss. He feels a sense of freedom and exhilaration, his focus solely on the road ahead. The world around him becomes a blur of colors, amplified by the tinted visor. John's journey to Newquay becomes a metaphor for his own personal adventure, filled with unexpected twists and turns.

[End of script]

#bike leathers

[paisleyphotographs]

Single Vehicle Accident Closes Paisley Street Temporarily

Due to the severity of the accident and the need for recovery efforts, the affected section of the road had to be closed off for approximately two hours

On the afternoon of Saturday, September 30th, 2023, a single-vehicle accident brought Paisley Street to a standstill. This unfortunate incident occurred at the junction of Castle Street and George Street in Paisley, Scotland, leaving residents and passersby understandably concerned. At approximately 2:30 PM, a red Yamaha motorbike was involved in the accident when its rider lost control at the…

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[go2goio]

[vagabondsarts]

Original Vintage Harley Davidson Signs - Authentic and Collectible

Introduction

At Vagabondsarts.com, we celebrate the rich heritage of motorcycle culture and the timeless allure of vintage Harley Davidson signs. These recognizable signage act as a window into the past, encapsulating the spirit of liberation, exploration, and rebellion that has always been associated with Harley Davidson motorcycles. In this essay, we'll examine the historical background, aesthetic appeal, and lasting popularity of antique Harley Davidson signs among enthusiasts and collectors.

Harley Davidson: A Legacy of Motorcycle Excellence

The wide road, American engineering prowess, and workmanship have all been represented by Harley Davidson. The motorcycles produced by the business are renowned for their unmistakable rumble, stylish style, and unwavering performance. As time has gone on, Harley Davidson has developed a devoted group of riders known as "Harley enthusiasts" or simply "Harley riders." The distinctive lifestyle that comes with owning and riding a Harley is what draws these people.

Vintage Harley Davidson Signs: Capturing the Essence

The vintage harley davidson sign stands as a testament to the brand's enduring legacy. These signs, often featuring the iconic Harley Davidson logo or vintage advertisements, evoke a sense of nostalgia and embody the spirit of the open road. Crafted with attention to detail, these signs were once proudly displayed in dealerships, garages, and roadside establishments, inviting passersby to explore the freedom that Harley Davidson motorcycles represent.

Historical Context and Collectability

Vintage harley davidson signs we are aware of the significance of these vintage Harley Davidson signage, therefore we have gathered a collection of some of the most unusual and authentic examples.  From a variety of sizes, hues, and patterns, you can find the appropriate vintage Harley Davidson sign to complement your taste and personality. Whether you're seeking for an antique advertisement sign from the business's early years or a sign with the recognizable Harley Davidson logo, we have something for everyone. These signs are sought after by enthusiasts and collectors who want to keep a piece of motorbike history alive, link to the past, and give their homes a genuine feel.

Design Aesthetics: From Bold to Subtle

Vintage Harley Davidson signs showcase a range of design aesthetics, each capturing a unique era in the company's history. Early signs often featured bold typography and striking color combinations, while later designs embraced a more refined and subtle approach.

Popularity and Value

The enduring popularity of vintage Harley Davidson signs can be attributed to their timeless appeal and their ability to evoke strong emotions. Collectors and enthusiasts actively seek out these signs, driving up their value in the market. A vintage Harley Davidson sign is an investment in a piece of Americana that will grow in value over time, as well as a way to show off your love of bikes.

Conclusion

Vintage Harley Davidson signs are treasured artefacts that take us to a bygone period of motorcycle culture. They are more than just decorative items. Through their design, historical significance, and enduring popularity, these signs captivate the hearts of collectors, enthusiasts, and anyone who appreciates the iconic legacy of Harley Davidson. At Vagabondsarts.com, we honor this legacy by offering a curated collection of vintage Harley Davidson signs, inviting you to embark on a journey into the rich history of this iconic brand.

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[back-and-totheleft]

In Phnom Penh

It was a warm day in January, which is normal for January in Phnom Penh; men sat in open-air restaurants eating noodle soup and sipping iced coffees; motortaxi drivers, perched on the seats of 110-cc Daelim motorbikes, endlessly pestered passersby with requests to be hired; and a very old female elephant, a mascot with rounded pieces of rubber strapped for protection to the soles of her feet, was led by a caretaker through the tourist haunts along the riverside.

At the University of Cambodia, which is a few hundred meters from Independence Monument, a burgundy-hued tower in the center of the city that calls to mind the ancient temple of Angkor Wat, American filmmaker Oliver Stone rose to speak to a crowd of about 300 Cambodian students.

He wore a black graduation cap and gown, having just been given an honorary degree by the university. When he reached the podium, he removed the flat-topped cap, perhaps aware of its incongruity on a man known as a provocateur, or perhaps because it wasn’t very comfortable. Stone then gave a nearly 24-minute speech, decrying the ‘beast of fear’ in American politics and urging students ‘to read history, because without memory there is only the dictatorship of the now.’

The three-time Oscar winner, who gained fame with movies like Platoon (1986) and JFK (1991), was on the second and final day of a visit to Cambodia that included a meeting with the prime minister. He had just come from Bangkok, where his remarks on Hitler during a speech to high school students drew attention. Stone, who is very good at drawing attention, was quoted by the Associated Press as saying that though Hitler was a ‘Frankenstein,’ there was a ‘Dr. Frankenstein,’ by which he meant that the Nazi leader was a product of his era.

He began on a lighter note in Phnom Penh, recalling that he first came to the Cambodian capital for a weekend getaway in 1965, when he was teaching English in what was then South Vietnam. A few years later, in 1967, he enlisted to fight in the Vietnam War, and he later made a trilogy of movies on the war.

‘For some reason, I have been brought to Southeast Asia by my own destiny when I was a young man, and it changed my life. So I do have some strange feeling that I am linked in some way to this region,’ Stone said at the beginning of his speech, which was part of a six-month lecture series run by the Vienna-based International Peace Foundation. (Fellow participants included movie star Jackie Chan, pianist Vladimir Ashkenazy and a handful of Nobel laureates, mostly from the sciences.)

Stone spoke with a slightly professorial air, which did not seem out of place. He quickly came to the subject of history, reflecting on the implosion of European imperialism in two devastating world wars, the paranoia of the Cold War years and the American triumphalism that followed.

After this brief summary of the 20th century, Stone broached the subject of peace (his talk was titled ‘Filmmaking and Peacebuilding’). A practicing Buddhist, he peppered this portion of his speech with ‘know thyself’-like exhortations.

I’m not the first one to say peace can only begin once you have come to grips with your own aggressiveness,’ the filmmaker said. He told the students to educate themselves, and thus to erect a bulwark against fear. ‘Your mind is the most important tool you have. It’s your weapon, your rifle.’

The acclaimed director also gave advice of a more (or maybe less) practical sort. ‘Don’t fall in love right away,’ said Stone, who has in the past told reporters that he likes to party, and who has been detained a few times in the US in connection with drug possession charges. At this command, people in the audience began to chuckle, and when Stone continued the room broke into full-blown laughter. ‘Get a backpack,’ he said, ‘a ticket to nowhere, take a year off, travel your ass off, burn everything you can. Listen to the wind.’

Stone may have listened to the wind when he was young, but he has kept himself busy in the subsequent years, writing or directing (usually he writes and directs) more than 20 films. His oeuvre, like his Phnom Penh lecture, shows a fascination with American culture and politics. Some of his movies explore aspects of the American experience or zeitgeist, a category that includes Wall Street (1987), on the greed driving the nation’s captains of finance, and Any Given Sunday (1999), which shows the excesses of American football while maintaining a deep respect for the sport. Others are dramatic reconstructions of American history, such as JFK (1991), which was attacked for propagating conspiracy theories on the assassination of John F. Kennedy, and which Stone still defends, saying there is enough evidence that the claims made in the film merit serious attention. (They certainly drew some attention: In response, the US Congress in 1992 passed the President John F. Kennedy Records Collection Act, which forced open all federal records on the assassination.) Also in this category are Nixon (1995) and W. (2008), on the presidencies of Richard Nixon and George W. Bush.

Stone’s movies on the Vietnam War have a deeply personal, as well as historical, tint. During an interview before his speech in Phnom Penh, the filmmaker talked about his decision to drop out of Yale, where one of his classmates was George W Bush, and volunteer for active duty in the war. ‘At that time in my life I had been brainwashed by the system,’ Stone said in a hotel on the banks of the Mekong River. Stone, who has a big frame, meaty features and black eyebrows, seemed to grow more focused as the interview went on. ‘I believed in the war, I believed in fighting communism,’ he explained. ‘People don’t remember in your generation. It’s a shame. That’s why you need the old guys like me around to keep saying don’t, don’t, don’t. You’ve got to be the cranks. You say don’t fight, don’t go to war unless it’s really necessary.’

After receiving two medals and being wounded in action in Vietnam, Stone became disillusioned with the war, he said. He later used his combat experience to write and direct Platoon (1986), an account of a soldier who, like Stone, voluntarily enlists. This was followed by Born on the Fourth of July (1991), about the life of an anti-war activist who was paralyzed in combat. Both films won the Academy Award for best picture. The third in his trilogy on the war is the lesser-known Heaven and Earth (1993), the tale of a Vietnamese woman who survives years of fighting and moves to the US. It is based on two autobiographies.

There’s a chance Stone could make another movie dealing with the Vietnam War. In 2007 he almost began shooting Pinkville, about the infamous My Lai massacre, but the financial backing fell through. ‘Hopefully we might come back alive,’ he said of the project. Pinkville would deal with both the mass murder of Vietnamese civilians by a unit of the US army and the subsequent investigation and cover-up, he explained.

In the wake of the recent financial crisis, Stone agreed to make a sequel to Wall Street called Wall Street 2: Money Never Sleeps, due out this year. He is currently working on a ten-hour documentary for TV named The Secret History of the United States, which he said will attempt to explain ‘how America became a national security state’ and ‘betrayed its moral principles because of panic and fear.’

Hitler is one of the figures treated in the documentary, which covers major events of the 20th century. Stone said his comments on the Nazi leader in Bangkok had been taken out of context, and that the documentary will show that Hitler is not a ‘cul-de-sac.’ ‘Hitler was a monster, no question, he was sick and crazy,’ Stone said. ‘But he didn’t do it alone.’

The filmmaker explained that he is fighting against the dualism – good versus evil – expounded by former President George W. Bush. ‘Dualism is not a philosophy of life that works,’ he said. ‘[Bush] said we’re going to fight a war to wipe out evil. You tell me how that works.’

Despite his dislike of Bush, Stone’s 2008 biopic on the president presents a sympathetic portrait that has been attacked from both the left and the right. The opposite effect was produced by his World Trade Center (2006), about those who responded to the scene of the September 11, 2001, attacks in New York. This sober tribute to heroism appealed across the political spectrum, and with W. shows that Stone, who is usually described as a member of the left, likes to make movies that transcend this label. Alexander (2004), the critically panned biopic on the famous Macedonian conqueror, is another example of this, a work that seems anomalous in Stone’s oeuvre, but shows his love of history and good old fashioned heroism.

This willingness to buck expectation is also evident in Looking for Fidel (2004), one of two documentaries the director has made on Fidel Castro since 2003. Though he clearly admires the longtime Cuban leader for standing up to the US, he does not let Castro off easily, and in one scene he goes over an Amnesty International report that details human rights abuses in Cuba.

Stone was unwilling to say if he did anything similar during his meeting in Cambodia with Prime Minister Hun Sen, who recently marked his 25th year in power, making him one of the longest-ruling leaders in the world. The Cambodian premier, who has a glass eye, is a former Khmer Rouge cadre who turned and fought the regime. He has overseen a period of relative stability and economic growth in Cambodia, but he has also been criticized for his authoritarian style of governing and for occasionally using violence against the opposition.

‘Hun Sen’s quite a fighter, I have to admit,’ Stone said. ‘I knew of him 20 years ago when I was here… You know, I liked his guts, his scrappiness. I don’t know what went on behind the scenes, but he did seem to mold this country together at a time when it needed a strong leader. ‘Sometimes a leader stays too long,’ he added. Then he said: ‘I can’t speak for [Hun Sen], because I don’t know the internal situation. But I think Cambodia is reaching a place of relative prosperity in the Southeast Asian world.’

He described the prime minister as very different from Castro or Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez, who was the subject of South of the Border (2009), a documentary by Stone. ‘The Asian tradition is different,’ he explained. ‘It’s more like talking to a monarch than it is like talking to Castro or Chavez.’

Stone, who is in his early 60s, was born in New York to a Roman Catholic mother from France and a Jewish father who was a stockbroker. He has since adopted Buddhism – he rejects the term ‘conversion’ as Christian – and at one point during his speech he told students to take their days with ‘equanimity and detachment.’ Buddhism, Stone said during our interview, ‘seems to me a sane response to the life that I’ve seen.’

‘It’s a religion of the heart and the mind and it deals with very practical issues,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t talk about heaven. It doesn’t talk about God. It talks about your heart and your spirit and what you do with your life.’

Stone’s Buddhist-influenced philosophy goes hand in hand with a spiritual tone that occasionally creeps into his work, balancing the frenzied filmmaking style for which he is known. This is most clearly evident in Heaven and Earth, where the protagonist is a Buddhist, but also in Nixon and World Trade Center, among others. ‘There’s always to me a spiritual connection in these movies,’ he said. ‘I don’t think people necessarily get that because they always react to the surface of controversy.’

Stone, in fact, said his movies can be seen as ‘movies about love.’ ‘If you look at my movies, you can put a handle on anything and say I’m controversial and political. You can also look at my movies and say they’re movies about love.’ To support this claim he pointed to Natural Born Killers (1994), a satire about a pair of lovers who go on a killing spree and finally turn on the journalist who made them famous. Stone described Natural Born Killers as a ‘movie about two people who love each other.’ This interpretation might be a stretch, but it is a very Oliver Stone thing to say.

-Clancy McGilligan, "Oliver Stone Speaks in Phnom Penh," Film International, Jan 31 2010 [x]

#oliver stone #cambodia #vietnam #phnom pehn #the untold history of the united states #buddhism #religion

[japanesepenguin]

Walking 中山道, Section 3, Part 3

+ So along the 中山道, back in the day, there were "post stations" along the route where travelers would spend each night; this marker marks the spot of a former one, specifically, the residence where "important" people (military leaders, governor, the Imperial princess at some point) would stay

+ Just nearby is this bronze statue which commemorates the area's importance as a market street; this lady is selling Japanese pumpkin (南瓜) and what I think are either sweet potatoes or eggplant (in her hand); usually passersby will watch me take pictures; I wonder what they're thinking; I hope, after seeing a foreigner (white guy) happily take a picture of something like this, they might just pause to consider it a bit beyond "not at all" as they're out walking their dog or whatever

+ Yah, now here's the good stuff: Edo period shrine, still standing; apparently there's dozens of "styles" of the gate feature (something for me to learn about later), but this style reminds me of Itsukushima Shrine (厳島神社), a pretty important shrine nearby Akina's hometown

+ Ah, but before that, there was this motorbike nearby; I'm posting this for the gimbal mechanism on the back, used mostly to transport foodstuffs (like tofu) that can't be jostled around too much; these are not very common, but you do see them around

+ The shrine had this on site; original Edo period; I can only offer guesses, but it enshrines a deity/spirit for sure (because of the rope with lightning-motif paper); you know, the more I learn about this, I don't think "god" or "deity" is the right translation---they're more like "spirits" but I'm no expert

+ Two hundred years ago shrinegoers would walk along these same stones, under the same arch, and pray at this shrine---isn't that fascinating?

+ They put their foxes in cages here because they would bite you if released

+ All of the above (the shrines, etc.) looks like this (above); just hundred-year-old shrines remaining as they are as high-rise apartment buildings and fast-paced modern life goes up around it...

+ Crossing the train tacks, just a small shrine off to the side where I paused to get my bearings and have some water; the big gate on the left is confusing: normally the gate marks the boundary between the secular/human world and the shrine/spirit world, but here it's just like in the middle of a sidewalk? What are you telling me?

+ All right, as a final photo-limit picture we're still walking along; the road is definitely picking up traffic and becoming more congested at this point; the red banners on the sign posts are for the local soccer team

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens Secret Santa 2020 - “Lights Will Guide You Home” (Rated PG13)

Summary: While watching the kids for the night, Crowley takes them all on an adventure, which includes a trip to the states to look at the Christmas lights. He drives them around to see bigger and gaudier displays, but Aziraphale is a little confused when he finally gets to see Crowley's favorite. (1556 words)

Notes: Written for Micha (@one-with-the-floor) as part of the Good Omens Secret Santa 2020 gift exchange.

Read on AO3.

"How about this one, kids? This might be the brightest one yet! ... Kids? ... Kids?" Crowley looks in his rearview mirror and scowls. "Oi! When did the little buggers fall asleep?" 

Aziraphale turns away from his window and the house beyond covered in every twinkle light available on the Eastern Seaboard (he suspects) and gives Crowley a confused look. Then, remembering that they aren't alone in Crowley's Bentley, he peeks over at the seat behind them, where five children snore softly, heads leaning on shoulders, fast asleep. "About five houses ago, I believe? Give or take? That's the last time I heard any ooo'ing or ahh'ing."

"Which house was that?"

"The one with the nativity scene made up of inflatable dragons breathing fire and wearing Santa caps."

Crowley's brow draws together as he tries to recall. "Oh, yeah. Right." He looks over his shoulder so he can see the pile of children properly: Warlock dressed in his stiff new Christmas suit, Adam a bit less formal in khakis and a pale blue polo, the rest of The Them a hodgepodge of wrinkled trousers, thick-soled shoes, and shirts of various fit alongside Pepper's red velvet gown, which her parents forced her to wear (a fact she stated numerous times throughout the evening) and which she accessorized with a faux leather jacket and a bulky pair of Doc Martens. "What's the deal with them knocking out so early? They're kids! They're supposed to be boundless founts of energy, aren't they?"

"Early? It's close to one in the morning!"

"Yes, but if you take into consideration the clan of gingerbread people they decimated, then washed down with a gallon of cocoa, they should be bouncing off the ceiling! We've been out for, what? An hour? Two?"

"Try four," Aziraphale says, checking his watch to be sure. "Did you have to miracle us all the way to the states?"

"Yes," Crowley says definitively. "They do Christmas a little differently out here. Bigger. More grandiose."

"That's an understatement," Aziraphale mutters as they pass a house so festooned with lights and animatronic creatures, he can't see the structure they're affixed to. "As is, I'm not sure how exactly you're getting away with miracling the lot of us abroad."

"When Hell finds out I used my magic to take five children across borders without passports, they'll be ecstatic!"

"But will Warlock's parents? Or Adam's?"

"Who's going to tell them?" Crowley shoots his angel a significant look, but Aziraphale matches it, arms crossed over his chest, glaring sternly, and Crowley backs down. "Look, their parents ditched them with us so that they could go off drinking and regaling and having a good time."

"Ditched them?" Aziraphale chuckles at Crowley's skewed point of view. "We offered!"

"And we promised these kids a good time!"

"You definitely delivered," Aziraphale says, smiling at his memories of their night: the snowball fight that ended with them crashing an outdoor service; the horde of snow zombies they built in the yards of a quiet and unsuspecting neighborhood; the hills they zipped down using trashcan lids as sleighs. Aziraphale was horrified by most of these to begin with, but that didn't last. Not when he saw how thoroughly the children enjoyed themselves. 

Crowley, too. 

But driving around, looking at lights? That was an unexpectedly tame suggestion. And Crowley was rather insistent. "But why did you want us to see Christmas lights?"

"Because it's important."

"How?"

"This is the only time of year you get to see this," Crowley explains, gesturing vaguely.

"And what's that? Enough wattage to coax down passing aircraft? Or are you perhaps referring to the eight-foot Santa mooning passersby?"

"No," Crowley replies. But that Santa was hilarious! The children spotted him from miles away and made Crowley drive over. They spent a good fifteen minutes pointing and laughing, making the kinds of off-colored jokes that make parents shush! But more hilarious was his angel's scandalized reaction - his dramatic tut, followed by an even more dramatic, "God Lord." "Humanity." Crowley sighs. "I know I talk a lot about Christmas becoming vulgar and over-commercialized. And come the day after, it'll be back to the business of not giving a shite about their fellow man, trampling each other in the shops to get the most ridiculous garbage at seventy-five percent off ..."

"Something you earned a commendation for, if I recall," Aziraphale points out.

"... but when humans light their houses like this, invite their neighbors to gather 'round, they're saying 'All are welcome! Stop on by! Let's celebrate together!'"

"To me, it's more like they're saying, 'Look at me! Look at all of this useless bother I own! Who cares that I'm diverting migratory birds from their destinations? Astronauts can see my house from space!'"

"Agree to disagree then," Crowley grumbles, then goes silent, and Aziraphale knows he's teased one step too far.

"The children falling asleep will make it easier to transport them," Aziraphale says, easing into a new subject until he can think of a way to apologize. "We can miracle them into their beds when we get back to the Dowling's. Then we can do a little regaling of our own."

Crowley grins. He can't stay stung by his angel forever. He's just too sentimental tonight to have a sense of humor. "Sounds about perfect. Been a while since I've done any regaling."

"Tonight's as good a time as any to start."

Crowley turns down a street with fewer lights and no neighbors milling about, preparing to snap them back to London. "Which house was your favorite?"

"Oh, none of these," Aziraphale says snobbishly. "I'm not the biggest fan of modern-day extravagance. I would have to say my favorite out of all the displays was that abbey down by the river: fairy lights reflecting off the water; tasteful nativity out front; evergreen trimmed with simple decorations - wooden star atop, red velvet bows, paper angels ..."

"Leave it to you to choose the one holy place we found, and only because we took a wrong turn."

Aziraphale wiggles happily in his seat. "You know what they say - there are no accidents."

"Yup. And four rights make a left."

Aziraphale pulls a face. "I ... don't think that's correct ..."

"Don't matter." Crowley turns in his seat, looks at his angel. "Do you wanna see my favorite?"

Aziraphale smiles, all thoughts of turns shelved for the moment. "Of course." "Alright. It's back in our neck of the woods, so hold on tight."

Aziraphale reaches to the side, takes Crowley's free hand in his, gives it a squeeze. "Ready."

Crowley snaps his fingers. 

For a single second, the world stops. 

A bright light surrounds the Bentley, engulfs it in its brilliance. In the amount of time it takes for Crowley's fingers to slide across one another, they're home. 

Aziraphale blinks, looks about as his eyes adjust to the lower light. He expected to see a house pulsating with a glow equal to a thousand suns outside his window, maybe with Virgin Mary riding a motorbike behind the abominable snowman while the angel Gabriel wrestles an alligator. But the shapes around him are familiar. His brow wrinkles as he tries to understand what he's seeing. They're not just back in London, they're in Soho.

Right outside his shop. 

"Which one is it?" Aziraphale looks up and down the block at darkened storefronts, most of them as frugally adorned as his own - a rope of garland, a wreath, a silver bell or two, but nothing special. Nothing noteworthy. Nothing even close to the houses they spent the night ogling. 

"This one right here." Crowley points past Aziraphale toward a set of wooden double doors.

Aziraphale frowns. "But ... that's my bookshop."

"A-ha."

"I didn't do much in the way of decorating."

"I know."

"And I don't like when people stop in, so it's not as if I'm encouraging my neighbors to gather."

"Know that, too."

"So, why is it your favorite?"

"Because ..." Crowley scoots across the seat, puts an arm around Aziraphale's shoulders "... it's home."

"You consider a dusty old bookshop home? When you own that mansion of a flat in Mayfair?"

"You consider the bookshop your home, don't you?"

"Yes, but that's because my books are there, my liquor cabinet, my snuff boxes - everything I'm fond of. Everything I adore."

"What a coincidence. Because everything I'm fond of ... everything I adore ... is at your shop."

"And what would that be?" Aziraphale asks sarcastically. "My bottle of Hennessy Paradis Imperial?"

"No. You, you pair of walnuts," a grumpy Warlock responds in Crowley's stead.  

Crowley glares at his young charge over his shoulder. "Rude."

"Look, could you guys take us home first and then make out?" Adam asks.

"Yeah," Pepper agrees. "My entire body is numb except for my right eyelid."

"Plus, listening to adults flirt kind of grosses me out," Brian adds, the rest mumbling in agreement.

"Alright, alright," Crowley growls, sliding back into his seat and putting the car into drive. "We'll drive you ankle-biters home, and then ..."

"We regale! Which I'm confident will include plenty of 'making out'? Right, my dear?"

"Absolutely," Crowley says with a smirk. Aziraphale snorts when their cluster of pre-teens groan.

"I think we're making them uncomfortable, angel." 

"Serves them right," Aziraphale says, straightening in his seat. "I could have happily gone on for another six thousand years without seeing Santa Claus's rear end. Vengeance is mine."

#good omens secret santa #good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley

[mars-commissions]

Kaito x Kei Fluff Commission

2k words

Kaito stopped his motorcycle in front of Kei’s house, removing his helmet to let his short blonde hair breathe, the spiked locks swaying in the breeze. His roots were notably darker than the rest of his hair, seeing as he liked to dye it a lighter tone to match his golden eyes. If you came closer to him, you’d notice a small smiley-face earring on his left ear. He stood a bit below average height and was clad in a black button-down shirt, brown capris, and hiking boots. With no access to a place to clean his clothes, they were a little dirty, but he managed to look presentable to the best of his ability.

It wasn’t Kei’s house exactly, but an abandoned house he and Kaito had been squatting in for a few weeks. It was a long story, but that was their current situation. Kaito had been out all day going to stores to find anything he could use to repair or use to do maintenance on his motorbike. Who knew, what if they’d have to leave town and go somewhere more rural, far from any stores? They knew they wouldn’t be able to stay in one place for long, but at least they had each other.

The two boys were only seventeen but had experienced things that you wouldn’t normally have to go through at that age. Most of their peers weren’t running from the cops after breaking out of prison, they were at home sleeping or staying up all night to study. After all, they were only teenagers. They should be in school too, but they didn’t have much of a choice. The idea of being on the run constantly felt pretty ordinary to them at this point.

It especially wasn’t a foreign idea to Kaito, seeing as his dad was a convict and a distrust for a system was all he had ever known. He never trusted the police as a child and was taught to be clever like his father. The reason why the two boys had been separated, to begin with, was that Kaito’s dad was a felon. Kei had cut him off as soon as his mom told him. He regretted it now, but Kaito had moved on and accepted Kei’s apology.

He patiently waited for his boyfriend to come out to go on a ride with him. It was fairly late into the night. Kaito had chosen to ride at night because there were fewer cars and it was peaceful at night. They also were at a lower risk of getting caught and sent back to jail. Kaito going out for the day was one thing, but the two of them in public in broad daylight was just asking to get arrested again.

Kaito was cautious and made sure to wear sunglasses inside of stores when he didn’t have his motorcycle helmet on. It wasn’t the best disguise, but it was better than nothing. But at night, they’d be as free as birds, able to go anywhere they desired within the city with a low risk of being discovered. The door to the abandoned house opened and Kei sprinted over to him, hugging him. Kaito laughed it off, slipping his helmet onto Kei’s head.

Kei was taller than Kaito, but only by a bit and was a lot scrawnier. Kaito was the strongest of the two, but Kei made up for it with his intellect. Kei had short black hair which could be seen through the visor of the helmet. He had been wearing his signature outfit; a white t-shirt tucked into plain black pants. He too didn’t have many options for clothes and had to make do with whatever he had with nothing but the clothes on his back.

“I missed you all day, I was so worried.” Kei grinned.

“I did too. I don’t mind if I get hurt if we end up in an accident, but I don’t think I’d ever been able to forgive myself if something were to happen to you,” Kaito said as he adjusted the various buckles to fit Kei’s head.

It had been a while since they had reunited and the two had started dating very quickly into their reconciliation. They were inseparable. Kaito was very protective over Kei and wouldn’t dare let anyone lay as much as a finger on his beloved boyfriend. Kaito was shorter by a bit but would take anyone down if it meant his boyfriend would be protected. He sounded like he was very strong, but he had a soft spot in his heart for Kei. No matter how hard he tried to hide behind a rough exterior, he’d always be loving to Kei, even if they were fighting, which seldom happened.

“Ok, weirdo, don’t get all mushy on me,” Kei teased, bringing up his old nickname for his boyfriend.

“Not my fault that I care about your safety. You mean so much to me.” Kaito smiled, getting on his motorcycle.

Kaito patted the space on the black leather seat behind him, letting Kei sit with his arms wrapped around him. He rested his head on his shoulder, shutting his eyes and giving him a tight squeeze, letting out a sigh of comfort. Kaito blushed, smiling to himself. He loved when Kei was affectionate because it gave him a sense of reassurance. It was as if it were Kei’s way of telling him that all of this being on the run stuff was worth it if it meant that he would get to be with him. He knew that of course, but it was the heartful reminder that he needed.

“Where to?” Kaito asked.

“I’m not sure, just take me anywhere.” Kei shrugged.

Kaito started up his motorcycle and began to gain momentum. He stayed at a reasonable speed, cruising down the barren streets. The roads were empty, aside from a few parked cars on the side of the road. They had intentionally chosen this location to hide in temporarily, because of how close it was to their childhood homes. It was for nostalgic purposes, rather than being a safe place to hide. They were sure they’d be caught sooner, but maybe the police assumed they had gone elsewhere. It might have been the last time they got to see their hometown and they wanted to make the most of it before it was too late. He stopped in front of a playground, pointing at it to draw Kei’s attention.

“I remember going to that park as a kid with you before we stopped talking,” Kaito said.

The playground was empty without a person in sight. The colourful structure was lined with ladders, slides, and monkey bars for children to play on. There was even a swing set. The metal chains holding the swings up squeaked as the wind passed through them, making them rub against each other.

“I remember playing here too. I’m really sorry for cutting you out of my life all of those years. I still feel a little guilty about it sometimes. I thought you hated me for the longest time.” Kei sighed, burying his face into Kaito’s shoulder.

“Don’t feel bad about it. You were just a kid and didn’t understand. I’m so glad you came back eventually.” Kaito reassured, starting his motorcycle back up.

“I’m glad I did too,” Kei said in agreeance.

The motorcycle continued to take them to their next mystery location. They passed by the houses of the suburban area before they slowly turned into shops, indicating that they were out in a more public area and would need to be extra careful. Kaito stopped the motorcycle in front of a convenience store, parking it so they could go inside. Before they could go in, the two boys put on hats and sunglasses. They looked a bit odd to be wearing them at night but was for the sake of concealing their identities, even if it meant looking a bit unusual. Kaito opened the door for Kei as they made their way inside.

“Let’s get slushies and drink them on the curb,” Kaito suggested.

“Sure, why not. I feel like we deserve it after all we had to go through.” Kei laughed, shaking his head at Kaito.

“Yeah, I don’t think running from the cops is something most people have to do every day,” Kaito said softly, not wanting to alert the cashier that they were convicts.

They filled up their slushie cups with soda-flavoured slush and headed to the counter to pay. As he made small talk with the cashier, Kei paid for their slushies and snacks they grabbed on the way out. They could’ve easily shoplifted, but getting caught and sent back to jail over a cheap chocolate bar wasn’t worth the risk, even if it meant saving a few bucks.

Sitting on the curb next to where Kaito had parked the motorcycle, they began to eat, chatting about being kids like they were old friends. It was dark out and the only illumination that allowed them to see was the light seeping through the windows of the convenience store. Blue and red light emitted from a large neon sign that informed passersby that they were open, but it wasn’t bright enough to shine on Kaito and Kei.

“Kai, I just wanted to say thanks for saving me back there. You were so willing to help me even though all I’ve ever done is pushed you aside.” Kei thanked, peeling the wrapper of a chocolate bar.

“You’ve thanked me for helping you a hundred times already. Give me a piece of chocolate and then we can be even.” Kaito said, holding his palm open.

Kei carefully broke off a piece of his chocolate bar, handing it over to Kaito, who had eaten it in mere seconds. They sat in comfortable silence as they both chewed on the chocolate pieces. Kaito inched over slowly, trying to break the space between him and Kei on the curb.

“I’m worried that if you sit too close to me, someone might see,” Kei said, biting his lip nervously.

“It’s two in the morning. I think it’s a lot more severe that we just busted out of prison than the fact that we’re dating. I’m proud to have you as my boyfriend.” Kaito smiled.

“I guess you’re right. And no one’s around to see this.” Kei blushed, leaning closer to Kaito and softly kissing his cheek.

Kaito put his arm around Kei so he could rest his head on Kaito’s shoulder. It was a little chilly since it was late in the night, so cuddling made it easier to share their body heat so neither of the two would get cold.

“Nope. I can promise you that only I saw that. And even if someone did, they’d just be happy for us. And if they weren’t, I’d fight them for you.” Kaito chuckled.

“I don’t think there’s anyone else I’d rather be on the run with. You know so much more than me, I’m more book smart when it comes to intelligence, but that means almost nothing out here.” Kei sighed.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, I think you’re smart,” Kaito assured.

The two snuggled on the curbside as the sky went from dark and full of stars to a light reddish-orange. Clouds dotted the sky, now more visible that the sun was peaking over the horizon ahead of them. The picturesque cityscape left the two in awe. It was bittersweet to have to leave the city so soon, but they knew they wouldn’t be able to stay long. The city was beautiful, but it was too risky and they’d surely be caught lurking there. Out in the middle of nowhere was their only option.

“So,” Kaito murmured, ”What do you say we get out of here before we’re seen?”

“Yeah, let’s get going.” Kei agreed.

And just like that, the boys were back on Kaito’s motorcycle, looking for somewhere new to crash.

Message me if you’re interested in commissioning me!

#kaito ajin #ajin #kei ajin #kei x kai #kaito x kei #kai x kei #fluff #commission #commissions #fanfic #fanfic commissions #freelance #freelance writing #freelancewriter #writer #writing #writing commission #anime fic #anime #anime fluff

[nancy-kenyablog]

Saga of the shoes

When I packed to come to Kenya, other than a few suggestions from my friend who has been coming here for 10 years, I had no idea what I would actually need. So as usual I brought stuff I don’t need and I didn’t bring stuff that I do need. This is typical for me. That’s how I roll. The ramifications of such a packing style, if you want to call it that, are that I have to buy stuff when I land. In my current situation this is a challenge since I live in the middle of nowhere and the closest settlement is a half hour away down some amazingly treacherous cow paths that I get to navigate from the passenger seat of a tough as nails motorbike driven by a maniac Maasai man with nerves of steel and a superior knowledge of this land he’s lived on his whole life. We make this trip about once a week and so far my back is managing much better than I would have imagined. If I had imagined a thing like this excursion I would never have pictured myself in it. Never. I notice that if I think too hard about all of the possibilities I end up not doing anything so it’s sort of  a blind leap  into the void that gets me into situations like this.

Anyway….. I packed one pair of good walking shoes and I wore an old pair of ratty garden shoes/crocks. My thinking was the crocks would be easy to get out of and back into at the airport as they still have everybody taking off everything and getting radiated front and back. It is just part of the joy of flying. Those seats in economy class are another of the joys. If you don’t know what I’m talking about either you haven’t flown in awhile or you’re way more financially secure than me. The whole airplane travel thing is horrific. But it got me here so I’ll stop complaining now. About that anyway. I figured the crocs would be my bedroom slippers/knock around shoes. One small problem quickly presented itself. This place is full of little sand spurs and my crocs are so old that the soles are thin in places and those little sandspurs poke through the bottom them and either piss me off or actually make it impossible to walk until I stop and pull them out which isn’t easy and has left little barbs in my fingers on occasion. So it became increasingly clear that I need a new pair of shoes.

On one of our trips to Namilok, the small village where we go to shop I ended up sitting outside as dusk turned to dark with a beautiful young woman named Naomi and her two and a half year old daughter. I was her daughter’s first encounter with a white person and she was an unusually bright and inquisitive child so we had a lively encounter where she learned many English words and we became friends. During this little love fest many villagers came by and stopped to see what this old white lady was doing in this remote village where white folks are obviously just not at all a common occurrence. One of the passersby had a tape measure around her neck. I wouldn’t call myself a seamstress by any stretch but I do like to sew and I recognize a tape measure around the neck as a clear sign of a sister. So I followed her home. She had a small shop with fabric and samples of her work. And she had a whole wall full of cheap knock off shoes.

I picked out a pair of Tevaish ones and when I discovered they were only $10. I knew I had a solution for my poor prickled feet. When Dan, my intrepid driver finished all of our shopping and came back to get me I told him I wanted the shoes. He said we would have to check with Jessica and get them next time as we were on a budget and had already spent all that we came with. I wasn’t thrilled but I’ve gotten accustomed to waiting and things not going exactly my way here. It’s sort of how it is and part of the reason I decided to make this journey. I’m basically spoiled rotten and this is like a crash course in service above indulgence. I have to remind myself regularly that there is a reason for this and that I am being well served by serving. My fervent hope is that I will be far less of a spoiled brat at journey’s end. Hope springs eternal.

That was pass one. Pass two came the following week when we once again went to Namilok this time after a serious rain. The terrain was even more exciting plus we were carrying two pieces of wood lashed to the seat behind me and squeezing me between it and Dan. It was a huge relief when we landed and I was not looking forward to the trip back before we even finished that first leg. But I was excited to get my shoes. Dan did all the shopping as usual and this time I was deposited on a bench outside of a little shop where I sat with a man who’s four year old daughter drank milk from a plastic bag and stared at me shyly. When he came back to get me he said we only had money for one chair and two chairs had been on our list. I told him to forget the shoes and lets get another chair. We really need some chairs. He agreed and took off. When he returned he had more groceries and when we left Namalok we still had just one chair. I don’t ask many questions about logistics as I have noticed that with the language barrier and my basic lack of understanding about what is going on in general it’s best to just keep my nose out of it for the most part. So we got back on his picky picky (Maasai for motorbike) and now I had not only the wood pushing me from behind but a blue plastic chair on my shoulder for the ride home.

We made a stop this time at Dan’s house to drop off most of the groceries. Again I kept my big mouth shut. Three ragged little urchins where hanging around in the dirt with a small herd of baby goats. They looked like they could use some groceries. The house was a typical Maasai structure, sticks and cow dung. I asked Dan where his wife was and he said she had gone to fetch water. It’s not that far, in relative terms, to the spring where she goes to get her water, relative to how far most women have to walk. Some are walking 22 miles one way. She only has to walk about 2. One way is with an empty jerrycan and the return trip is with 50 pounds of water in the jerrycan which they attach to a strap that they somehow manage to support with their heads without breaking their necks. I’ll post a photo. It’s quite the feat. When we left his house after dropping off his groceries and got to the museum and he had to face the boss, Jessica, that’s when the shit kinda hit the fan.

One chair, no shoes and not much in terms of food. We didn’t get our money’s worth. Dan took off and left us to sort it out. So Jessica called him and he didn’t answer. That went on awhile. When he finally did answer he apologized and promised to make it right and said it wouldn’t happen again. So the next day it happened again. This time he did bring another chair and four bananas but two of them were squashed and he said they sold my shoes. He seemed to be drunk and we couldn’t make any sense of his explanation about why he had failed to bring a flashlight when Jessica had told him that the transformer blew down and we are without power and it’s an emergency. It just didn’t seem to register. Odd as he had to step around the fallen pole and wires to reach us. Anyway, it was a bit frustrating but it was getting dark by then and I just wanted to crawl in my little hovel and sleep. It had been another long day and I was happy to have another chair and the promise of shoes on the horizon. I had not lost my faith in Dan. I saw what he bought with the money he grafted by not getting my shoes and a chair. These were not frivolous purchases. Cornmeal, greens, laundry soap. He did get a haircut but that half hour experience in a shack off the main drag cost just 50 cents. Who could deny him that small pampering?

This morning Dan arrived with my shoes and two flashlights. The Kenya power people promise to fix our electricity by noon. It’s just 12:08 and I’m not expecting them anytime soon. I doubt that it will happen at all today as the wind is so strong they will have trouble walking straight much less climbing poles. There is more snow on Mount Kilimanjaro today. It never melted completely. And everything is greening after the rain on October first. The skies have been awe inspiring all day and all night. Life here continues to be unpredictable and challenging. Much better when I let go of expectations and enjoy the ride. Kinda like everywhere only way different.

#maasai

[orlagracec]

We had a climate strike today! This was the first piece of physical activism I had ever taken part in (I say physical because I believe my art is a form of activism). We made signs, sang songs, danced (& of course took photos), all for the name of climate justice. I felt embarrassed singing and dancing and being a part of the group initially. Though their values are absolutely what I stand for, the sneering, remarks and gestures of passersby (most of which were said in Dutch so I couldn’t understand) made me feel anxious. Children came up to us and kicked over our potted plant, people on motorbikes sped loudly across our chalk pieces and old ladies laughed in our faces as they walked past. They wanted a reaction. They wanted to break us. But we remained strong. Because we are not just fighting for us but for every single person, even those who mocked us, for those in third world countries who are suffering at the hands of our careless industrialisation and our greedy capitalism, for the thousands of animals who needlessly suffer and die, for our grandchildren and great grandchildren who don’t deserve to inherit an earth as fucked up and abused as we did. We are fighting against powers who are fuelled only by profit and not by compassion or humanity. We are fighting for our lives. ALL of our lives. I teared up at one point in the strike. I don’t know if it was the frustration at the ignorance of these people or the audacity of them to make us feel like we were weird or strange for caring about the planet. Actually, I’d like to think it was because it gave me hope. That despite the hopelessness I so often feel regarding this issue, there were people who felt the same. People who refused to give up. People who were unapologetic in their environmentalism. A group of tree-huggers, hippies and vegans. Even those that were less passionate about the climate were there, lending their support. A lady came and joined the protest and everyone cheered her in. I felt so happy, I know the Earth is in good hands by the time it reaches our generation. It restored my faith in humanity. ❤️

#activism #climateaction #climatestrike #blog #travel #study abroad #year abroad #extinctionrebellion