#he legally has be 100 feet from a water park at all times

[demigods-posts]

percy with a nerf gun has to be the funniest shit to ever exist. because realistically, he can make a weapon out of anything as long as it involves water in some way. so i'm just picturing him carrying a couple of pocket-sized nerf guns in his jeans. and any time he sees a monsters he needs to quickly get rid of, he'll just💧🔫, and get on with his day.

(x): @seaweedpuff301, @the-brain-person

[sock-ness-monster]

Excuse is granted. Please. I beg of you. Infodump away

Thank you so much I love telling people about this guy

So, to preface this, I'll be telling this story exactly how it was told to me by our camp counselor at a Caveing camp I went to, so it's very much an oral history that maybe can't be fact checked but the broad strokes are genuinely 100% true

TRIGGER WARNINGS: DEATH, DARKNESS, CLAUSTROPHOBIA, GRAVE DESECRATION, CRICKETS

Now that that's out of the way (and please mention if there's any other TW's I should add) the story of

Floyd Collins, The Man Who Was Buried Six Times

This story begins in Kentucky in 19very early, a young Floyd was plowing his family's field when he suddenly dropped through the ground and discovered an unknown cave system. Super cool! Now, people back then did not have television, keep in mind, so caves were really big deals and they were a brand new and lucrative tourist escapade. Floyd's family seized the idea and quickly made a little tourist attraction out of it and started raking in the dough. But they weren't the only ones who had a cave you could tour, Kentucky's geology is super unique in that it has tons of limestone and sandstone which is perfect for underground rivers to carve cool caves out of. They are everywhere in Kentucky and the surrounding area, there was a lot of competition for who had the best, the biggest, the longest cave. And Floyd and his brothers were seized by cave fever and were exploring all around looking for new tunnels and chambers. A large part of this business, unfortunately, was not just walking people through the caves but was letting them take home souvenirs. People could carve their names in the wall, take a stalagmite or stalactite or whatever cool rock they found. Destroying the sensitive ecosystem of the caves. Floyd, the cool dude that he was, was one of the only people who was against this at the time. Good for him! Salamanders are important!

Anyway, Floyd and his brothers are always on the lookout for new opportunities, and there were tons in that area. But, not all of them would pan out. Floyd had heard rumblings about a new cave system called Sand Cave that wasn't far from his family's original cave, which by now had been dubbed Crystal Cave. It didn't seem that promising to most, but Floyd was hoping it actually connected to Crystal cave, and they could tack on so many feet to how big their cave was. So he set off to see if he could find a connection.

He had been surveying the cave for a few hours, and decided to call it quits. He was crawling through a tight tunnel upwards toward the opening of the cave when a rock slide pinned his ankle down tight. He was laying flat with his hands reaching upwards, and there was no way for him to reach back behind him to free his ankle.

He had gone on this expedition without telling anyone.

This was the first time he got buried.

Three days pass, and his brother Homer finally finds him. He tries everything he can think of to free floyd, to no effect. Realizing that this may be a bigger endeavor than he can pull off, he crawls back out to go and find help. It is January of 1925, what else is there to do but go to the newspaper? They publish the story of the man trapped in a crawl way, and it's a huge hit!? People are fascinated by Floyds predicament. They want to help, they want to see, they want to know more. It even makes it on the radio! The three biggest news stories of the time were

1) the war (oof)

2)Charles Lindbergh (will come up again later)

And 3) Floyd in the hole

Everyone in America is anxious to find out how they rescue Floyd. "They" being everyone from the local cave experts to the military corps of engineers to the freakin freemasons, they're all trying to figure out how to free Floyd. Who, ya know, is just chillin in the cave, because caves stay at a constant temperature of ~54° , not too bad for January. His brothers and a reporter take turns crawling down to deliver him the three essentials; food, whiskey, and news. The reporter, "Skeets" Miller, would later win a Pulitzer Prize for his correspondence with floyd in the shaft. Now, as mentioned before, it is a cold and snowy January, but people (nearly 10,000 according to some reports) are so fascinated by the goings on at Sand Cave that they travel from far and wide to be there at the triumphant moment when Floyd emerges. Weeks have gone by at this point. Radio stations are reporting every day, Charles Lindbergh is hired to take photographs of the terrain from above. It's like a big party up top.

They camp out around the cave mouth.

They build fires for food and warmth.

The snow melts.

The cold water trickles down into the cave.

Floyd....... starts to cough.

The cave's already sketchy structure is further compromised.

There's another rock slide.

Floyd is now cut off from contact with the up side world, and the engineers panic and go with a last ditch effort they had been debating beforehand. They can't go around they can't go behind, the only path left was straight down. They drill a hole that reaches the 150 feet from daylight to Floyd's prison. They are too late. He was estimated to have died three to four days before they reached him. His leg is still stuck, and half his face has been consumed by cave crickets. And they just.....leave him there. Whatreyagonnado they shrug, he's already gone we can stop now. They fill in the shaft again.

This is the second time Floyd is buried.

Homer, his closest brother, can't accept this as his final resting place. A few weeks later, they un block the hole and carry Floyd to their family's funeral plot and have a small service with just his closest friends and family present.

This is the third time Floyd Collins is buried.

A few years go by, and the Collins family sells their farm and cave. Unfortunately, they did not see the part of the deed that entitled the new owners to everything in and under the property. Floyd's body is now legally theirs. He is exhumed and placed on display in a glass coffin in Crystal Cave (which years and years later would eventually be proven to connect to Sand Cave).

This is the fourth time Floyd is buried.

If you haven't pieced it together yet, caves were a pretty big deal. We now enter a time in Kentucky history known as the Cave Wars, and they are brutal. How brutal, you ask? Well, to answer with one scenario that happens to be related to this story, the owners of nearby cave were jealous of the attention Crystal Cave was getting from their cool exhibit of Floyd's body, against his family's wishes. Why, the only logical thing to do is steal the man's body and throw it off a cliff. Crystal Cave's new owners would recover it, though minus the left leg. And the next logical thing of course is to put him back on display but this time with a bunch more chains.

This is the fifth time Floyd Collins is buried.

Then, the 60s roll around and Crystal Cave and Floyd are purchased by the National Parks Service on the grounds of being connected to the Mammoth Cave System (the longest cave system in the entire world now). Floyds family is still fighting for his body, and in the 80s they finally get their wish. Floyd is removed from the cave in a 15 day trip and buried at a real cemetery again.

This, is the sixth time he is buried.

A pillar is constructed in honor and perhaps in reparations to all he's gone through, but it is struck by a semi truck and demolished less than a week after its unveiling.

Floyd.......went through a lot. All he ever wanted to do was see some cool rocks and support his family. And to this day, cavers do their best to do right by him. When entering Mammoth Cave, they often ask the darkness to look after them. They aren't talking to the darkness, of course, that darkness that can never be described properly. They are talking to Floyd. Asking him to watch over them as they wish he had someone to watch over him. In the caves everyone is above you, but that's not what they mean. And when they hear a whistle through the tunnels, they like to imagine it's Floyd. Floyd, who was right. The cave was so much more than people thought, in so many different ways. To this day, there's a saying in the caveing community.

"Floyd Lives"

It's like the geology version of "Eddie Would Go". As long as we carry on his legacy of exploring bravely, daring to go where noone has gone before, and do our best to preserve the natural beauty and habitat of the caves, floyd will live on. Floyd lives in our memories and hearts and the drips of water that will one day be pillars.

I don't really know how to end this. Here's a picture of the man himself;

(the picture above is not the tunnel he was trapped in, to be clear)

[ladykissingfish]

Driving with the Akatsuki

Itachi

Driving with this guy is ... nerve-wracking, to say the very least. It’s not as though he’s a reckless automobile operator; he observes all the laws of traffic, the radio is at a reasonable volume ((he’s the type to listen to podcasts rather than music)), he follows the speed limits, he actually slows down at a yellow light — but it’s the near-misses that are daunting. The just barely stopping in time before hitting the old lady crossing the street. The running up on the curb while parking. And then there was that incident with the tree — Itachi legally has to wear glasses when driving, but his passengers often wonder whether the glasses actually HELP him. Even with them on, he squints A LOT. And only someone with nerves of absolute steel, like Kisame or Kakuzu, will be in a car with him at night. However he is with driving, one thing he’s not blind in, is his car’s cleanliness. Will make passengers wipe feet before getting in, and after everyone is gone he’ll carefully scour the seats to remove even the faintest trace of lint or gum wrappers or any disturbance at all. Can be a bit of a “mom” driver; a holdover from his teenage years of constantly having to chauffeur around his younger brother and his brother’s rambunctious friends.

Kakuzu

Anyone getting into a vehicle with Kakuzu is in for a surprise. 91 years old? Surely he drives slow and steady, like a typical little old man, right? WRONG. Kakuzu is a goddamn speed-demon. He barrels down streets, he flies through intersections. Not many know this about him, but he was very much into drag-racing as a (much) young(er) man, and his current proclivity for quickness is a holdover from those days. Luck always seems to be on his side, as he’s gotten caught/received speeding tickets far less than he deserves. To make matters scarier, Kakuzu’s radio system has been broken for two years (and of course he’s too cheap to get it fixed), and the back left window doesn’t roll up to the top; so the only sound his passengers will hear is the wind rushing past the glass and Kakuzu’s deep, sinister chuckles as he sees other drivers (and pedestrians) scramble to get out of his way. Also, unless you’re a CLOSE-close friend, don’t expect a ride from him unless you have gas money.

Deidara

In all honesty, the blonde prefers to be the passenger rather than the driver, even in his own car. He gets his best inspirations for future art pieces when he’s traveling around, and it’s hard to pick up a sketch book when you need to be paying attention to the road. When he does have to be behind the wheel himself, he’s a fairly average driver. His passengers are always at risk of a case of auditory whiplash, as Deidara’s (loudly played) music tastes switch from one extreme to the other; and the guy isn’t exactly shy about singing along to his favorites. He’s also one of those eat-on-the-go guys, and his backseat will almost always be buried under a myriad of candy wrappers, empty plastic soda bottles and discarded burger wrappers. In the summer he prefers the wild and free feeling of having all the windows down, rather than turning the AC on, and he’ll have to remember to firmly tie up his long hair and keep it from blowing in his eyes or else everyone in the car will be taking an unscheduled trip into the nearest tree.

Zetsu

His car always has that calm, natural, “special plant” scent to it. The kind of smell that causes a panic when Zetsu sees a police officer anywhere in the area. A very relaxed driver; seat almost all the way back, one hand barely on the steering wheel. Obeys the speed limit but can put the pedal to the metal when in a hurry. Likes to listen to mostly reggae or jazz, and taps his fingers on he dashboard along to the beat. Water-bottle hoarder; has at least 1000 plastic water bottles, in varying staging of fullness, all over the front and back seats. The type to keep driving around the block until the song ends. Also the type to have really deep conversations with his passengers, and drive them out to really far away and scenic locations.

Hidan

If you have somewhere important to go, and need a ride, it’s best not to ask Hidan. He is the sort who always insists he knows a shortcut or a quicker route to every destination ... and ends up hopelessly lost. Can’t read a map to save his life and for some reason won’t trust a car’s gps system to guide him ((has some pretty crazy conspiracy theories about the voice behind the system)). Easily distracted by any and everything (both inside and outside of car), which makes being his passenger a bit daunting. Like Kakuzu, is a very fast driver, but infinitely more cautious as he has a LOT of tickets wracked up and isn’t looking to add more.

Really loves Led Zeppelin and Johnny Cash; has a visor full of those CD’s and will play those rather than listen to the radio. Also has a butt-load of swear word laden and inappropriate humor bumper stickers.

Pein

Who needs a car when motorcycles exist? This guy has a classic hog that he keeps in mint condition, that he rides around wherever he goes. Every year he’ll try and convince his close friends to ditch their boring cars for something more sublime, only to be met sure emphatic No’s each time. Is very protective over his baby and will go ballistic over even the tiniest nick or scrape. Drives at a normal speed when by himself, but will drive just a bit faster when carting around a friend (especially if it’s a female friend). Doesn’t really like to wear a helmet himself but will insist on any passengers putting one on. Prefers the quiet of the open road but if in a musical mood it’s always 80’s hair bands; a lot of Def Leppard, Quiet Riot, Van Halen. Can do a variety of tricks on his bike but doesn’t do them often as he doesn’t like to “mess up” his baby any more than necessary.

Sasori

Absolutely 100% HATES driving. Has massive anxiety anytime he has to get behind the wheel, almost to the point where he’d need to take a sedative just to relax. Drives slower than the slowest driver you can think of. Yellow light? Slow down. Green light? Still slow down. Will drive himself to and from work, but any other time would prefer being a passenger in someone else’s car ((in which case he becomes the worst backseat driver in history)), or simply taking the bus. Doesn’t like giving rides to others but if he must, it’ll be a very tense, silent drive (forget about him turning on the radio and ‘breaking his concentration’), and he’ll freak out if a passenger takes their seatbelt off before the car comes to a complete stop. Also has a hyper-awareness to anything that might possibly be wrong with his car; if that check engine light comes on you can bet he’ll be at the mechanic in a heartbeat. Also the type who feels “uncomfortable” if gas tank is below 3/4 full.

Konan

The type who’s always heading somewhere/running errands, and will ask if you need a ride. Very neat and organized car, and always suspiciously shiny (as if she visits the carwash every other day). Seems to know absolutely everybody; is always waving at or honking to people in other cars. Keeps the radio volume down when she has passengers, but when alone she loves to sing at the top of her lungs to 90’s boy bands (her rendition of I Want It That Way by The Backstreet Boys is American-Idol worthy). Is always prepared for anything, especially in the winter; in her trunk is a shovel, an extra blanket, water bottles and protein bars, even emergency flares. May be pretty and delicate but definitely knows her way around a car; can change a tire or check the oil with the best of them.

Kisame

Has very long legs, so needs a car or truck that provides him ample room to stretch. A very relaxed and mellow driver, always puts whoever’s with him immediately at ease. Doesn’t use air fresheners in his car but inside always smells like whatever his cologne is, which is always yummy. Gets a lot of fast-food but always keeps the bags and wrappers stored neatly in a little garbage bag that he empties out daily. Will let his passengers do pretty much anything in his car EXCEPT smoke; he can’t stand the smell of tobacco. Isn’t really a Point A to Point B driver; will always think of other places to stop or visit en-route to his destination. Big fan of Musical music; his all-time favorite cd is the soundtrack to Grease. Also (when by himself) is a car-emoter; Kisame doesn’t let most people see anything but his cheerful side. Bring alone in his car is the only time he’ll cry, or scream, or express anger regarding events or people.

Obito

The type of driver who very often spaces out and “forgets” that he’s driving. Prefers traveling more with animals than with people; most likely to take his dog on a weeklong broad trip. Has been a smoker since his teenage years but is trying to quit, so in his car is the only place he “allows” himself a cigarette (but only when he’s completely alone). Almost started a fire once when he threw a still-lit cigarette out the window, but it flew into the backseat instead. Drives fairly slow unless he’s in a hurry for something (but even then his foot doesn’t press the gas pedal THAT much harder). His musical tastes depend on his mood but whatever he ends up listening to is always car-shakingly loud. Seems to have a new (and interesting) trinket hanging from his rear-view mirror every week. The kind who drives around for several days with his gas tank close to/touching on E because ”he knows his car, it’s fine”.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch 12- How Very European…

Summary: Frank and Fliss set a date for their wedding and, following her all clear at the six weeks postpartum check-up, she decides it’s time to get a bit frisky…only a little someone has other ideas.

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s!

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N:  Ok, so I had a LOT of fun with this one. I have never had a baby myself, but my best friend tells me some hilarious tales about all sorts of stuff- she has no filter…and neither do I in this chapter. I apologise in advance…

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 11

 Fliss smiled as she stood looking at the stretch of St Petersburgs beach. The sugar white sands, rustic boardwalks, and the blue waters of the Gulf of Mexico had made her fall in love with the place when she has first come here with Frank and Mary almost 2 years ago. It was the place her and Frank had sat on one of their early dates eating Mexican and drinking beer…and it was a stunning backdrop for the beach wedding she had always wanted.

"So the Public Access area has a large metered parking lot for you and your guests. Private condominium rentals and boutique hotels are nearby and can be a great option if you and your guests want to walk to your Wedding ceremony." The wedding planner, a small woman named Bobbi spoke "Or if you fancy there's also Pass-a-Grille or Upham..."

"No." Fliss shook her head and turned round, her eyes shining as she looked at Frank who was stood next to her. "I love this part of the beach and it’s special to us. It’s perfect. " Frank's hand tightened around hers and his mouth turned up into a smile. "I like it too." "Well that was easy!" Bobbi smiled "are you 100% sure you don't want to see the others?" "Yeah." Fliss smiled as Frank pressed a kiss to her temple. "Alright." Bobbie nodded. "So, you mentioned next September?" Frank nodded. "We don't need a brunch or reception venue, we got that covered. Just the ceremony." Bobbi nodded and tapped at the tablet she was holding. "Well that makes it a lot easier. Any specific time of day?" "Afternoon." Fliss said. Bobbi hummed before she looked at them "You're in luck. There's a slot at four pm on the twenty-sixth of September. Does that work?" Frank looked at Fliss who nodded. He turned back to the woman and smiled. "We'll take it." Bobbi nodded. "Alright. Do you wanna head back to the car and I can take the details, get the deposit paid?" "Lead the way." Frank smiled. She turned and walked back over the sand, the two of them following hand in hand. It took them about fifteen minutes or so to get the formalities out of the way, but once that was done Bobbi emailed the confirmation over and it was done. They had officially set a date. After she told them a little more about what she would need from them legally over the next few weeks she shook both their hands and said she would be in touch. They both waved her off before Fliss turned to Frank, gave a little shriek of happiness before she flung herself onto his arms. He laughed, picking her up and twirling her round, giving her a soft kiss as he set her on her feet. "Three-hundred and sixty three days to go." She smiled "Sixty-four.” Frank chuckled. "It’s a leap year next year baby." "Details, details..." She waved a hand, her gaze flickering back over the ocean as she leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her as the stood looking at the area where they would become man and wife in little under twelve months.

“What time are you meeting Bonnie?” Frank asked, breaking the silence as he checked his watch. She should have been out for lunch with her best friend last but Mary had been violently sick on the Saturday night and really clingy to her, so they had rearranged instead for the following Saturday evening which was now upon them almost.

“Erm, half Seven. Why?” Fliss looked up at him, her shades covering her eyes.

“It’s Four now. Fancy a walk?” he nodded towards the sea.

Fliss hesitated, truth be told she wanted to get back to Alex. This was the first time they’d left him with someone else, and whilst it was her parents and she knew she could trust them implicitly, she was still a little on edge about being apart from him.

“Just a quick fifteen minutes.” Frank softly coaxed, knowing exactly what was on her mind “Then we can go and get the kids.”

Fliss nodded and the pair of them removed their shoes before they linked hands again, stepping onto the sand which was hot on their feet. The pair of them cursed and hopped from foot to foot, mumbling about how they really should know better now as they hurried to the cooler, wet sand, laughing as they walked through the light waves as they lapped around their ankles.

“So where are you going tonight?” Frank asked. “Rio’s.” Fliss replied. “Same as we planned last week. Apparently the new menu is amazing. Has a grill section, we should take Mary one night when Alex is a little older.”

“We could go now.” Frank looked at her “He’s plenty old enough. Feed him before we go, he can sleep whilst we eat.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Why are you so against taking him out?” Frank asked softly.

“I’m not, I take him out during the day.”

“I mean to somewhere like that.” He stopped to look at her. “I’ve suggested it a few times that we take them both out for dinner, a treat for Mary maybe, and you’ve vetoed it.

“I know, and I feel guilty enough as it is, I don’t want Mary to miss out.” “She’s not missing out.” Frank shook his head, “She’s spoiled rotten. I just want to know what the problem is. Talk to me, Honey, please.” Fliss hesitated and took a deep breath “I honestly don’t know. I just, well if he starts crying or he gets unsettled…” “Then we take him outside until he settles and bring him back.” “And if he doesn’t settle?” “Then we get the food wrapped up and take it home.” He shrugged “Lissy, babe, it’s not a big deal. You’re over thinking all of this. He’s a baby, he won’t know where he is, and if he did he wouldn’t give a shit.”

“Sorry.” She mumbled.

“Hey, there’s no need to apologise.” He took both of her hands. “I don’t wanna make you feel bad I just want us to enjoy our family time, you know. I couldn’t do any of this with Mary when she was a baby and I don’t want that for you.”

“I do enjoy family time.” She shrugged. “I honestly don’t know what it is Frank. I just feel safer with him at home. There’s no one there to look at me when he starts crying and be sat there judging me about what he’s crying for…” “Babies cry.” Frank shook his head “It’s what they do. Fuck what anyone else thinks.” “I wish I could be as relaxed about it all as you.”

“You keep saying this like I’m some kind of baby guru.” Frank arched an eyebrow over his shades “And I’m not. I had no fucking idea what I was doing with Mary. Still don’t. Look at the mess I made with the court case, sending her into Foster Care…”

“That was different.” “No, it wasn’t.” Frank shook his head. “I did what I thought was best at the time, but I screwed up. And we’re gonna screw up with Alex along the way and most likely Mary again as she gets older, it’s just a fact of life. But as long as they’re happy, safe and loved that’s all that matters.” “I know, I know.” Fliss took a deep breath as they turned to walk again. “I just don’t want to let him down. I don’t want to let either of them down. And I know I’m being stupid, I mean take earlier for example. When we left him with Mum and Dad, I cried for like half an hour.”

Frank chuckled softly. “I know, I was there.”

“Everyone told me I’d be glad to get some time away, but I’m not. I miss him already and…it’s pathetic, I know.”

“No, you’re just a new mom.” He smiled, squeezing his fingers around hers. “It will get easier, I promise.”

“I thought about cancelling tonight.” She admitted. “I was secretly glad last week was a no go, I mean I would have preferred it not to be because Mary was sick but I wasn’t ready. And that’s not because I don’t trust you with him because I do, and I know I’ve left you with him before when I’ve nipped out but it’s just…”

“Lissy, stop.” Frank shut her rambles down, dropping a kiss to her temple. “You don’t need to explain, I get it. Honestly I do, but you said you’re driving tonight so you can leave when you want to. Don’t cancel, Honey.”

“I’m not going to.” She shook her head “Bonnie would kill me. She’s really down at the moment.”

“Yeah?” Frank asked as the continued to splash in the shallow water.

Fliss nodded “She hasn’t told me what’s wrong. I’ll see if I can get it out of her tonight.” Frank pulled her closer, his hand leaving hers as he curled an arm round her shoulder and they continued to walk, talking as they did so. Eventually they reached the part of the beach which curved around the bay and headed over to the boardwalk so they could walk back to the car. As soon as she got back to her parents’, Fliss felt her earlier anxiety ebb away completely as Alex was fast asleep in the bassinet in the kitchen whilst Mary was playing in the pool with Bill and Steve. The entire family was over the moon when they announced they’d booked the date and Verity went off at 100 miles an hour talking about dresses and flowers until Bill gently reached over and squeezed her knee, reminding her it wasn’t her wedding. But neither Fliss nor Frank minded, it was nice to have their family so enthusiastic.

When Frank announced it was time to leave, Mary started protesting saying she wanted to stay the night. Frank refused, as she’d stayed the night before and he didn’t want Bill and Verity feeling obliged, but as usual Verity beamed and told her of course she could say. So they left her there and took Alex home. Once he had been fed, Fliss headed up for a shower and then contemplated what she was going to wear. Whilst she had lost the remainder of her baby bump so to speak, she was still bigger than she had been beforehand so her usual jeans didn’t quite fit yet. When she’d complained to Frank about it and said the last time she had been this size was after her accident, he had gotten a little frustrated at her, telling her that if she dared go on some stupid diet to lose it as fast as she had back then he would be seriously pissed at her. She’d bitten back, snapping at him that she knew it was out of the question. She didn’t want to for starters, as she had been so miserable when she’d been emotionally manipulated into doing so by John, and this time there was Alex to think about. If she was feeding and nursing him she didn’t want to be on some stupid crash diet. Besides which, she wasn’t eating that differently to how she had been before she was pregnant. It was the lack of exercise, as it had been back then. Frank had apologised for snapping, and she’d done the same assuring him that she would be sensible. She knew that she would lose most of it once she could go back to work and start riding again and if she didn’t, well, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Frank was constantly telling her she was beautiful and besides, what’s a few extra kilos when you have a gorgeous baby boy to show for it?

In the end she opted for a strapless, floaty lemon dress which she had worn in her early pregnancy days that flared out under her breast line and stopped just above her knees. She paired it with a pair of tan, leather gladiator sandals and left her hair down in the soft waves it dried in post her shower. She applied a little make up, smiling to herself at the fact this was probably the first time she had worn it since she had given birth. All in all, she couldn’t deny it was nice to actually feel like Fliss and not just momma bear even though the two went hand in hand now.

Grabbing her purse and dropping her lip gloss and phone inside she headed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Frank was sat on the sofa, Alex napping in the little basket which lay on the coffee table. He looked up, blinking at her appearance and smiled softly.

“You look fantastic.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, heading over to give him a quick peck.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?” He offered again, nodding to Alex “He’ll sleep on the way.”

“No, honestly I’m not drinking. Well, maybe just one.” She shrugged.

“Back to grape juice instead of apple, huh?” Frank quipped and she smiled, running her finger over Alex’s rosy cheeks.

“Something like that.” She said, absentmindedly looking at her baby.

“Liss.” Frank spoke in a little warning tone, watching her and she turned to him “Go, we’ll be fine.” “I know, I know.” she nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m going, I promise…” He chuckled and she gave him another kiss before she headed towards the door, she took a final look back at her baby and fiancée, the latter making a shooing gesture with his hands and she laughed, before she turned and walked out of the room. He heard the front door close behind her and let out a sigh of relief. He’d half been expecting her to back out but she hadn’t, she’d gone. Thankfully. He was desperate for her to go out and enjoy herself, she needed to see other people outside of their little family unit, it wasn’t healthy for her to be as isolated as she seemed to have made herself. He’d actually gotten a little worried to the point that he’d even asked his own Mother for advice and she had assured him that Fliss would settle, pointing out that it was nerve wracking being a new mum. He’d been surprised to learn that Evelyn hadn’t left him with anyone until he was almost four months old for fear something would go wrong, and that had comforted him a little to understand that this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. It had been slightly different with Diane as she’d leaned on him to help her a lot, but then again most things with Diane had been different.

He leaned back on the sofa, picking up the remote, his eyes falling once more to the basket.

“Just you and me tonight, Son” he muttered, flicking to the TV finding the sports channel, selecting a re-run of a Red Sox game on one of the sports channels. “Time to start your education.” *****

“Oooh, how exciting!” Bonnie exclaimed as Fliss smiled, having just told her about them booking their wedding “It sounds amazing, that’s a gorgeous stretch of beach.”

“Yeah, it’s special to us so…” she smiled, and looked up as the waiter came to take their drinks order.

“Erm, do you want wine?” Bonnie asked.

Fliss hesitated for a second, before she shrugged “Just the one.”

Bonnie smiled and ordered them a bottle of Chardonnay and a large bottle of water. Once the Waiter was out of ear shot Fliss leaned forward “This way I don't need to pump and dump.”

Bonnie laughed “I always find that odd. I mean pumping and dumping doesn't get alcohol out of your system does it?” “No, but if I wanted to go out and get drunk I’d have to wait until I was sure all the alcohol had left my system before I fed him again.” Fliss shrugged “He’s already bottle fed at night so Frank can help and I wake up and my boobs are like fucking water melons so you can you imagine what they would be like after like twelve hours or whatever if I didn’t.” she shook her head. “But one glass, well my mum, midwife and Doctor Google say if I'm not feeding in the next two or three hours I should be ok.”

Their chat turned to Mary’s adoption, Fliss filling Bonnie in on how they’d begun the process legally now, Greg sorting and filing the paperwork and contacting her biological father earlier that week. So far they had heard nothing but they should start to see things progress fairly quickly once he had given his consent.

“And even if he doesn’t, Greg seems confident the court would find in our favour, Mary having been in Frank’s care since she was six months old.” Fliss shrugged, thanking the waiter as he placed the two bottles on the table. “So we’re not concerned, it would just be a lot easier and smoother if he does the right thing, you know?” The waiter finished filling both their glasses then placed the wine in the ice bucket before he then poured them each a water and asked them for their food orders. They placed them, Bonnie opting for scallops and the ribs, Fliss deciding on calamari and the steak. Once he was gone Bonnie looked at Fliss, picking up her glass.

“Do you think he will? Object, I mean.” Fliss paused, pondering for a moment “I don’t think so, I mean why would he? He made no effort to find Mary before the court case and now, even though he knows where she is, he still hasn’t so…” she shrugged, picking up her drink.

“Well…” Bonnie leaned over, holding her wine glass up “Here’s to it going smoothly and your first girl’s night out since becoming a momma.”

Fliss smiled and clinked her glass against Bonnie’s, before she took a sip and let out a soft moan “God that tastes sooo good.” “Well you could always dump the car as well as the milk.” Bonnie gestured to the bottle that lay in the ice bucket and Fliss laughed, shaking her head.

“Maybe next time.” She pulled out her phone and took a snap of her glass, sending it to Frank with the caption “Ok, so it tastes as good as I remember…” before she dropped her phone on the table.

They chatted a little more about general things, what Fliss had in mind for the wedding, the type of dress she thought she wanted, colour for bridesmaids, most of which she couldn’t answer as she had no idea really. It was odd that it was going to be her choice, but exciting none-the-less. At one point, her phone buzzed and she picked it up, letting out a chuckle at Frank’s reply to her earlier message. It was a photo of a beer bottle and a baby bottle side by side on the kitchen counter along with the words “Boy’s night in.” She showed it to Bonnie who gave a snort and Fliss placed the phone down and looked at her.

“So, what’s going on with you? I can tell you’re down.”

Bonnie fiddled slightly with her cutlery, before she shrugged “Simon’s being odd. I mean odder than normal before you say it.”

Fliss smiled and waited for her to continue.

“The last week or so, it’s like his mind is elsewhere. I’m beginning to wonder where it is, or more to the point who it’s with.”

Fliss frowned, her wine glass paused slightly in front of her mouth “You think he’s cheating?”

Bonnie shrugged “Honestly, I don’t know. Something’s going on.”

“I don’t think he would.” Fliss shook her head. “Is he not just stressed with work? Frank can get a little sullen if he’s got a lot on.” “Maybe.” Bonnie mused “He’s just normally so attentive and fun. Oh, ignore me. I’m likely thinking too much into it, it’s probably nothing.”

“You should ask him straight.” Fliss said, looking at her “Tell him how you feel, give him a chance to explain. If there’s one thing the whole Vegas incident with Frank taught me is that things ain’t always what they seem Bon. It’s bound to be something really simple that’s just playing on his mind.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Bonnie nodded “I’ll ask him.”

At that point their starters arrived and they both started to eat, and Bonnie grinned. “So, anyway, back to your dress…you’d look fantastic in a straight, little lace number.” By the time they had finished eating and chatting, Fliss was wearing a bright, bubble-gum pink meringue complete with crystals and a sweetheart neckline to get married in-“because, you know- watermelons…” and the bridesmaids were all going to be in lime green. Fliss had told Bonnie to be careful what she was suggesting, as she didn’t think the woman’s skin tone would take kindly to be dressed in such a colour, at which point Bonnie had nearly choked and her eyes had filled as Fliss smiled and nodded, confirming that she’d just asked Bonnie to take the job. After a loud acceptance, Bonnie had jumped up and hugged Fliss, drawing curious glances from the tables around them.

Fliss dropped Bonnie at the condo she shared with Simon, along with an instruction to call her if she needed to chat again, and then she headed back home arriving just after eleven. Letting herself in quietly, she made her way into the family room and paused in the doorway, smiling at the sight in front of her. Frank was led on the sofa, Alex clutched to his chest with two strong hands, the baby boy fast asleep.

“Before you panic…” Frank spoke, making her jump a little “I’m not asleep. Just resting my eyes.”

“I wasn’t panicking.” Fliss said, honestly “I know you’d never let him fall.”

Frank cracked open his eyes and smiled. “You have a nice time?” He asked as she walked towards him. He gently shifted so he was sat up, Alex still held to his chest securely as Fliss sat next to him, peeking at the sleeping baby.

“Yeah, I did.” She nodded “The food was good. We definitely need to go.”

“Did you find out what was bothering Bonnie?”

“Yeah, she said Simon’s being odd with her.”

“Odder than normal?”

Fliss snorted, “That’s exactly what Bonnie said.” She took a deep breath. “She thinks he’s playing away.”

“Si?” Frank looked at her. “No, absolutely not. In fact, she couldn’t be further from the truth if she tried.”

“What do you mean?” Fliss frowned and Frank hesitated.

“He told me last week, and this cannot go any further as he will kill me, but he’s gonna propose.”

Fliss’ mouth dropped open before her face split into a grin “No shit?”

“Yes shit.” Frank nodded, smiling “Told me when he was drunk in Fergs.” Fliss leaned back against the cushions on the sofa, and her smile slipped a little “Oh crap.”

“What?” “I told her to talk to him, ask him what the problem was.” “Sensible advice in normal circumstances.” Frank shrugged “Don’t sweat it, it’ll be fine.”

“So when’s he gonna ask her?”

“No idea.” Frank shrugged “He didn’t say.”

“Did he not ask for ideas?”

Frank snorted. “I’m the last person he should be asking. I was carrying your damned ring around for weeks trying to find the right moment. I almost did it by the tree at the Rockefeller centre, and then that ass hole beat me to it.”

Fliss gave a soft laugh as she shook her head “The way you did it was perfect.” “Yeah, I got there in the end.” He grinned.

At that point Alex stirred a little, making a few gripey noises before he began to get more restless, rooting against Frank’s T-shirt. “Think he might be hungry.” Frank smiled “Good timing Momma.”

Fliss chuckled and took Alex in her arms, adjusting her top as Frank stood up, heading to the kitchen “You want a drink?” he tossed over his shoulder.

“Yeah, camomile tea if there’s any going?”

Frank put the kettle on to boil and watched from the counter as his girl nursed their baby, a deep sense of contentment brewing in his stomach, along with the usual low-key arousal he felt whenever she was doing anything with their son. Seeing her interact with his baby, the baby she’d carried and given birth to was purely amazing and he loved watching it. He made her a tea, grabbed himself another beer and then sat down next to her as she finished up feeding and he offered to take Alex to wind him as she sorted herself out and had her drink. Eventually he settled again and went back down, leaving the two of them to snuggle up on the couch. They stayed together for half an hour or so before Fliss yawned and said she needed to sleep.

“I’ll take him up. You coming?” she asked.

“I’ll be up shortly.” Frank promised as she sat up, cracking her neck.

“You gonna watch porn and jerk off?” She teased and Frank sighed, shooting her a look.

“You’re not funny.”

“Not trying to be.” She shrugged, leaning over to kiss him softly.

“What would you do if I was?” He mumbled against her lips and she paused, pulling back slightly, arching her eyebrows.

“Well, I’d probably have to remind you that the real thing is much better.” She said, her hand gently cupping at his crotch.

“Okay, you need to stop.” Frank’s voice was a low whisper before he let out a groan as she ignored him completely, her grip growing harder. His hand wrapped gently around her wrist. “Lissy, seriously…” “Oh, shut up.” She mumbled, before she shook off his grip and snaked her hand into the waistband of his shorts, taking his hardening member in her hand. She gave it a light pump or two before she pulled at his shorts, and he lifted his hips slightly to allow her to pull them down.

“Baby, seriously, you don’t-.” His protests died in his throat as Fliss bent down and took him to the back of hers.

*****

“Well, I’m happy that everything seems ok and back to normal.” The Ob Gyn smiled at Fliss as she moved away from where she had been examining her “So if you feel ok in yourself, no physical pain, nothing…” “Nope, nothing at all.” Fliss shook her head

“Well then Miss Gallagher your life can go back to normal” she smiled, “Well, as normal as it is 6 weeks post giving birth.”

Fliss smiled “So I can start riding again?”

“Yup, as long as you make sure you take it easy. As with anything, you won’t have used certain muscles in a while so be careful.”

“Ok.” Fliss nodded.

“Are you going to continue breast feeding?” the woman asked and Fliss nodded.

“Yeah, which is something I wanted to talk to you about. What contraception can I use?”

“There’s condoms obviously, I can prescribe the mini pill or there’s the IUD.”

“Is an IUD safe?” Fliss asked, “I don’t want to use condoms and to be honest, with my baby brain I’ll probably end up forgetting my pill. That’s what led us here in the first place and that was before I’d had a baby.”

The Doctor chuckled. “To be honest, the most effective contraceptives are intrauterine devices and they’re perfectly safe despite what you might read on the internet. The Mirena IUD releases a very small amount of hormone into the uterus, where it works locally and it won’t affect the quality and quantity of breast milk, and it’s also safe and effective for five years. It’s a good choice, one I prefer to recommend when I can.”

Fliss nodded “Ok, that seems like a good choice. How do I get one fit?”

“I can do it now if you want.” The woman smiled “And the best bit is it works immediately.” “Straight away?” Fliss looked at her “So…” “Yep.” The Ob Gyn smiled “You can go straight home and jump his bones if you so wish.”

Fliss laughed, and contemplated the woman’s words for a second. She did want. Truth be told she’d been low key horny since she’d blown Frank off on the couch a fortnight or so ago, but hadn’t wanted to rush anything, choosing to wait instead for the all clear at her 6 week check-up. Now, well, there was nothing stopping them getting physically close again and the thought drew a smile to her face. She couldn’t wait to have her Sailor holding her again.

“Okay, yeah” She nodded to the woman who smiled.

“I’ll sort the paper work, grab my kit and be right back.” The doctor smiled.

Driving home Fliss had all sorts of thoughts about how to make their night special. Romantic candles perhaps, maybe a little nice underwear…that is if she could find any that fit her still.

But of course, best laid plans and all that. In reality, the evening unfolded like any other, with shitty diapers, breast pumping, and a dinner eaten while taking turns bouncing a six week old baby in their laps as he had chosen that particular night to be awkward about settling after his feed, it was almost as if he could sense what Fliss had in mind and was doing his best to veto her plans.

Around nine pm once Mary was in bed and Alex had been bathed, changed and fed, Fliss slipped away to prepare her body for its first round of postnatal coitus. She took a bath to unwind and shaved her armpits and legs. She also considered tackling her lady bush, but realized that her razor wasn’t sharp enough for that jungle right now so Frank was just going to have to deal with the crotch afro if he wanted a bit.

She climbed out of the bath and wrapped herself in her robe, heading into the bedroom where she dried off and set about her skin care routine before she decided to go the whole hog and paint her toenails a deep crimson colour, replacing the shimmery baby pink that she had done a few weeks ago as celebration she could finally see her damned feet again. Then she shed her robe and stole a quick look in the mirror. All things considered she conceded she didn’t look too bad. She wasn’t so much bothered by the extra pounds but more so slightly disturbed by the way they seemed to have positioned themselves on her body. It was almost like small, flesh-coloured bread loaves stapled to her belly. But, like she knew she could sort most of that out with riding and getting more active again, what she wasn’t sure exercise would do anything for was her breasts. They were large, which in itself wasn’t a problem, on the contrary in fact, as Frank was a self-proclaimed boob man, but her nipples had starburst over her breasts without any clearly definitive ending points. She was debating whether or not to try and put a little foundation on them, to tone down the nipple extravaganza but stopped herself, realising she was being utterly fucking ridiculous.

This was Frank she was preparing for. The man she’d been with for years, her fiancée whose baby she had carried and given birth to. And she knew he loved her, starfish nips or not.

She set about finding some suitable underwear. She had a few nice sets, some she had bought for herself, some Frank had purchased for her but as she laid them out on the bed she knew she wouldn’t feel comfortable in any of them. Continuing her search she finally found a pair of black lace briefs that skated along her ass cheeks and a black sheer negligee that she had worn a few times pre- pregnancy, in particular one very raunchy night where she’d surprised Frank by wearing it in the kitchen one evening when Mary had been at Roberta’s, cooking their dinner as if it was perfectly normal to be dressed that way. Dinner had ended up burnt, the smoke detectors going off, and they’d sat curled up with a Thai take out and all the windows open in an attempt to rid the place of the smell of cremated lamb chops and potatoes.

She shimmied into it, and to her delight it fit, even if her breasts were a little larger. They spilled over the top but her cleavage looked Elizabethan in a sexy way, and she grinned as she knew exactly what Frank was going to say about that. Finally, she removed her hair form its high bun, which had served nicely to give it some volume and fluffed it up and decided that the overall effect was actually pretty good.

She lay back on the bed, grabbed her phone and turned it into selfie mode, angling it just right so that she could get the full effect before she checked it, and fired it to Frank with a downright filthy message accompanying it and lay back to wait.

***** Frank had nodded when Fliss had said she was tired and needed to go to bed, and promised he’d be up in an hour or so, wanting to give her the time to just unwind. She’d been for her 6 week check-up and had assured him that everything was fine, but her general demeanour told him she was keeping something from him.

Trying not to think about it too much, he settled Alex down and flicked over to catch a re-run of Game of Thrones. It was the Battle Of The Bastards, his favourite episode of the entire series, and he was just mumbling to himself, calling Rickon Stark a ‘dumb ass mother fucker’ for not zig-zagging when his phone went. He absentmindedly reached for it, wondering if it was Simon telling him he’d finally grown a pair of balls and proposed, but it wasn’t, it was Fliss.

He opened the message and as soon as he saw the image he spluttered and the soda he had just taken a drink of dribbled straight down his shirt.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He choked, wiping at the spilled Fanta, as he stared at the photo. His girl was led on the bed, in a sheer negligee, her hair fanning over the pillow, eyes bright and mischievous and the shot was angled to give a perfect shot of the top of her cleavage. It was accompanied with the words. “Oh I forgot to tell you, your favourite legs are back open for business…”

“You devious little minx, Miss Gallagher.” He mumbled, suddenly understanding exactly what it as she’d been hiding from him, and his cock stirred in his pants. In a flash her was up off the sofa, shoving Thor out of the door so he could pee before he locked up, gathered Alex in his arms and made his way up the stairs as fast as he could, letting the dog into Mary’s room as he was scrambling at the door to get in.

“What kept you?” Fliss asked as he walked into the room, gently placing Alex in the bedside crib, making sure the blankets were arranged carefully.

“Well you kinda caught me off guard.” He smirked, lifting an eyebrow as he gently lowered himself over her on the bed, tugging her hips and pulling her down slightly before he propped himself up on his elbows, caging her between his arms and legs. “You look sexy as fuck, momma bear.” Fliss let out a grin as his lips met hers, and his eyes lowered to her cleavage and he gave a groan. “And I’m not supposed to touch these?”

“No.”

“At all?”

“Not unless you want a face full of milk.” She looked at him.

“Is it strange I find that a little kinky?” Frank grinned and she blinked, shaking her head with a snort.

“You have issues.”

“Yeah and right now they’re in the trouser department.” He mumbled, dropping his lips to hers “I nearly choked when you sent me that message.”

“You like?” She purred gently and he let out another groan and nodded.

“I did, I do. A lot.” His lips pressed to hers again. The kiss quickly became heated, his hands tangling in her hair has he held her head still, and then he felt her pull away a little, and he frowned as she looked at him, biting her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

"Is it weird that we’re like gonna have sex with our baby in the same room? Can he see us?” she asked, her head rolling to look at Alex. "No, he can't even focus yet, and it’s not weird. I’m a modern man.” Frank replied, his hand cupping her cheek and turning her face back to his. “This is how it’s done. It’s probably very European of us actually." "Frank I'm from England." She rolled her eyes. "Lissy." Frank sighed softly, “Look, if you don't wanna..."

“No I do, I really do.” She took a deep breath “Sorry, I just…” “It’s okay.” He gave her a soft smile, before his lips found hers again. In between the dizzying kisses Frank moved his right hand, his fingers gently tracing up the outside of her thigh and under the hem of the sheer lace slip she was wearing, and his mouth moved to lightly trail kisses across her bare collar bone. With a soft sigh she nodded, acknowledging his unasked question and his lips moved downwards peppering warm, open mouthed pecks across the swell of her cleavage, careful to take his time and stay gentle. Fliss let out a shaky whisper of his name, her hands tangling into his hair as he moved his affections upwards slightly, skimming his nose up her sternum, nudging her chin back so he could turn his affections back to her neck. This time her gentle whisper became a loud groan which she stifled with her hand as he nipped at her neck and he felt her shiver underneath him.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, looking down at her. She nodded and with a wicked quirk of his eyebrow he stood up, scrambling out of his clothes as fast as he could before he fell forwards again, his hands pulling down her underwear, lips kissing at the spot just below her ear.

Fliss was utterly gone now, consumed by the sensations she hadn’t felt in so long and she tilted her head back, sighing softly as Frank continued to nibble at her neck, settling himself above her. His fingers gently dropped between her legs and he felt her slick against the tips as he gently coaxed at her clit, continuing until she was nothing short of a writhing mess clawing at his back, aching for him. They locked eyes as he took her left hand in his, and slowly worked into her, both moaning simultaneously at the sensation, Fliss’ eyelids fluttering shut as she felt him fill her before the flickered open again and she looked up at him.

“Go steady.” She whispered and, with a gentle nod, Frank began to move his hips slowly, displaying nothing but absolute tenderness in his thrusts which weren’t measured in the slightest. His free hand kept hold of her hip, keeping her as close as she could possibly be, enjoying the sensation of once more being inside her, in top of her, surrounded by her.

Meanwhile, Fliss was just as lost, but in her own thoughts. For some reason as good as she had felt before, now she was starting to panic a little, that stupid voice in her head mumbling all sorts of dumbass thoughts.

Okay, this feels familiar. Sex feels the same. Does it feel the same for him? Is he taking longer than normal? Oh shit, maybe I’m super stretched out and it’s terrible. Maybe I’m different now, and I’ll never be as good. Maybe I was never THAT good to start with though? I’ll ask… “Is it good? Is it the same as it was?” She gasped out and Frank stilled, looking down at her.

“What?” He panted slightly. "I asked does it feel the same? I mean..." Frank leaned down, gently rubbing his nose against hers. “It’s great … it feels really good.” He reassured her and she nodded.

“Okay, you can go a bit faster…”

“I don’t want to.” He mumbled, giving her a deep kiss. And he didn’t. He was enjoying the slowness of it all, and he kept his lazy thrusts aimed perfectly on her spot, drawing those delectable sounds from her throat. Fliss’ senses were on fire, and she broke the long, lazy kiss that they were sharing to stifle a moan against his shoulder when she felt herself starting to unravel.

And then…

A loud cry came from the basinet. They both stilled, looked at one another, and glanced over to the side of the bed. Silence, no movement bar the waving of a little arm.

"He's going to cry.” Fliss stuttered between her deep breathing “If he cries, do we stop? Is it child abuse if we keep going until we finish?" "He's stopped." Frank turned his head back to her. “What if there's something wrong and we’re here just boning."

Frank shut her up with a languid roll of his hips and she gave a soft gasp, her hands grasping at his biceps.

“Liss, he’s fine.”

“'We’re the kind of negligent parents…oh fuck.” She whimpered as he tilted his hips again. “The one’s you’d see in a movie like Trainspotting."

He shook his head, pulling out a little before he sank back into her, her body moving with his slightly and she looked up at him.

“When the police ask what happened, do we lie? Or do we say we were having sex while our baby quietly suffocated a few feet away?”

“For fucks sake Lissy.” Frank spluttered in frustration. “You gave me a blow job the other week on the sofa and he was asleep in the basket on the coffee table.”

“That was different” “How?”

“We were on the couch and I wasn't naked.” “You’re not naked now.” He shook his head. “Will you shut up and let me make you feel good?” Her random, stupid worries stopped and she closed her eyes, nodding, and he started his movements again. It didn’t take him long to get them back to where they were, his thrusts deep and he picked up his pace ever so slightly, her hands flying to his bare back as she gripped him tighter, wanting to feel all of him, as close as she possibly could. His lips found hers and she took the kiss, it left her breathless as the heat began to rise in her belly and she let out a soft moan, which he swallowed with his mouth where it morphed into his own low, mumble of her name as he felt her clench around him.

The sheets rustled underneath them both as their pace continued slow and languid until the very end when Fliss’ let her head tip back, her throat bared to Frank in utter bliss as she came hard, the world spinning around her, her moans soft and breathy as her legs trembled, sheer pleasure spearing through her entire body. At that, after actively fighting back his high for what felt like an age, Frank gave a low grunt which tuned into a gasp as he clung to his girl, spilling himself into her, his hips slowing to a stop as he collapsed forward.

“That was fucking great.” His voice was muffled as his face pressed into her neck, and Fliss felt herself flush. She let out a chuckle as her hands gently slid up his back and into his hair.

“Yeah, we still got it Sailor.”  She quipped and it was Frank’s turn to chuckle as he moved and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

And then Alex did erupt into a full on screaming fit. Frank found himself thanking his son that he’d at least had the good grace to wait until he’d finished. He rolled off Fliss, landing on his back, hand running through his hair as she sat up and scooped Alex into her arms, sitting up against the headboard with him held to her, in the bed where his parents’ sinful deeds were likely still detectable. Frank looked at her, then to Alex whose tiny face was creased up in a loud wail as Fliss held him to her chest, trying to soothe him and he arched an eyebrow. "I take it the post sex snuggling is out?"

**** Chapter 13

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding On Ch 12: How Very European...

Summary: Frank and Fliss set a date for their wedding and, following her all clear at the 6 weeks postpartum check-up, Fliss decides it’s time to get a bit frisky…only a little someone has other ideas.

 Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s!

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N:  Ok, so I had a LOT of fun with this one. I have never had a baby myself, but my best friend tells me some hilarious tales about all sorts of stuff- she has no filter…and neither do I in this chapter. I apologise in advance…

Chapter Song: Whole Lotta Rosie by AC/DC  

Series Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist

Wanna tell you a story, about a woman I know, when it comes to lovin’, she steals the show.

 Fliss smiled as she stood looking at the stretch of St Petersburgs beach. The sugar white sands, rustic boardwalks, and the blue waters of the Gulf of Mexico had made her fall in love with the place when she has first come here with Frank and Mary almost 2 years ago. It was the place her and Frank had sat on one of their early dates eating Mexican and drinking beer…and it was a stunning backdrop for the beach wedding she had always wanted.

"So the Public Access area has a large metered parking lot for you and your guests. Private condominium rentals and boutique hotels are nearby and can be a great option if you and your guests want to walk to your Wedding ceremony." The wedding planner, a small woman named Bobbi spoke "Or if you fancy there's also Pass-a-Grille or Upham..."

"No." Fliss shook her head and turned round, her eyes shining as she looked at Frank who was stood next to her. "I love this part of the beach and it’s special to us. It’s perfect. " Frank's hand tightened around hers and his mouth turned up into a smile. "I like it too." "Well that was easy!" Bobbi smiled "are you 100% sure you don't want to see the others?" "Yeah." Fliss smiled as Frank pressed a kiss to her temple. "Alright." Bobbie nodded. "So, you mentioned next September?" Frank nodded "We don't need a brunch or reception venue, we got that covered. Just the ceremony." Bobbi nodded and tapped at the tablet she was holding. "Well that makes it a lot easier. Any specific time of day?" "Afternoon." Fliss said. Bobbi hummed before she looked at them "You're in luck. There's a slot at 4pm on the 26th September. Does that work?" Frank looked at Fliss who nodded. He turned back to the woman and smiled "We'll take it." Bobbi nodded. "Alright. Do you wanna head back to the car and I can take the details, get the deposit paid?" "Lead the way." Frank smiled. She turned and walked back over the sand, the two of them following hand in hand. It took them about 15 minutes or so to get the formalities out of the way, but once that was done Bobbi emailed the confirmation over and it was done. They had officially set a date. After she told them a little more about what she would need from them legally over the next few weeks she shook both their hands and said she would be in touch. They both waved her off before Fliss turned to Frank, gave a little shriek of happiness before she flung herself onto his arms. He laughed, picking her up and twirling her round, giving her a soft kiss as he set her on her feet. "363 days to go." She smiled "364" he chuckled "It’s a leap year next year baby." "Details, details..." she waved a hand, her gaze flickering back over the ocean as she leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her as the stood looking at the area where they would become man and wife in little under 12 months.

“What time are you meeting Bonnie?” Frank asked, breaking the silence as he checked his watch. She should have been out for lunch with her best friend last but Mary had been violently sick on the Saturday night and really clingy to her, so they had rearranged instead for the following Saturday evening which was now upon them almost.

“Erm, half 7. Why?” Fliss looked up at him, her shades covering her eyes.

“It’s 4 now. Fancy a walk?” he nodded towards the sea.

Fliss hesitated, truth be told she wanted to get back to Alex. This was the first time they’d left him with someone else, and whilst it was her parents and she knew she could trust them implicitly, she was still a little on edge about being apart from him.

“Just a quick 15 minutes.” Frank softly coaxed, knowing exactly what was on her mind “Then we can go and get the kids.”

Fliss nodded and the pair of them removed their shoes before they linked hands again, stepping onto the sand which was hot on their feet. The pair of them cursed and hopped from foot to foot, mumbling about how they really should know better now as they hurried to the cooler, wet sand, walking through the light waves as they lapped around their ankles.

“So where are you going tonight?” “Rio’s.” Fliss said, “Same as we planned last week. Apparently the new menu is amazing. Has a grill section, we should take Mary one night when Alex is a little older.”

“We could go now.” Frank said, looking at her “He’s plenty old enough. Feed him before we go, he can sleep whilst we eat.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She said.

“Why are you so against taking him out?” Frank asked softly.

“I’m not, I take him out during the day.”

“I mean to somewhere like that.” He stopped to look at her. “I’ve suggested it a few times that we take them both out for dinner, a treat for Mary maybe, and you’ve vetoed it.

“I know, and I feel guilty enough as it is, I don’t want Mary to miss out.” “She’s not missing out.” Frank shook his head, “She’s spoiled rotten. I just want to know what the problem is. Talk to me honey, please.” Fliss hesitated and took a deep breath “I honestly don’t know. I just, well if he starts crying or he gets unsettled…” “Then we take him outside until he settles and bring him back.” “And if he doesn’t settle?” “Then we get the food wrapped up and take it home.” He shrugged “Fliss, it’s not a big deal. You’re over thinking all of this. He’s a baby, he won’t know where he is, and if he did he wouldn’t give a shit.”

“Sorry.” She mumbled.

“Hey, there’s no need to apologise.” He took both of her hands “I just want us to enjoy our family time, you know. I couldn’t do any of this with Mary when she was a baby and I don’t want that for you.”

“I do enjoy family time.” She shrugged “I honestly don’t know what it is Frank. I just feel safer with him at home you know? There’s no one there to look at me when he starts crying and be sat there judging me about what he’s crying for…” “Babies cry.” Frank shook his head “It’s what they do. Fuck what anyone else thinks.” “I wish I could be as relaxed about it all as you.” Fliss shrugged.

“You keep saying this like I’m some kind of baby guru.” Frank arched an eyebrow over his shades “And I’m not. I had no fucking idea what I was doing with Mary. Still don’t. Look at the mess I made with the court case, sending her into Foster Care…”

“That was different.” “No, it wasn’t” Frank shook his head “I did what I thought was best at the time, yes, but I screwed up. And we’re gonna screw up with Alex along the way and most likely Mary again as she gets older, it’s just a fact of life. But as long as they’re happy, safe and loved…that’s what matters.” “I know, I know.” Fliss took a deep breath as they turned to walk again, “I just don’t want to let him down. I don’t want to let either of them down. And I know I’m being stupid, I mean take earlier for example. When we left him with Mum and Dad…I cried for like half an hour after.”

Frank chuckled softly “I know, I was there.”

“Everyone told me I’d be glad to get some time away, but I’m not. I miss him already and…it’s pathetic, I know.” She shrugged.

“No, you’re just a new mom.” He chuckled, squeezing his fingers around hers “It will get easier, I promise.”

“I thought about cancelling tonight.” She admitted “I was secretly glad last week was a no go, I mean I would have preferred it not to be because Mary was sick but…I wasn’t ready. And that’s not because I don’t trust you with him because I do, and I know I’ve left you with him before when I’ve nipped out but it’s just…”

“Lissy, stop.” He smiled, dropping a kiss to her temple “You don’t need to explain, I get it. Honestly I do, but you said you’re driving tonight so you can leave when you want to.” He said, looking at her “Don’t cancel, baby.”

“I’m not going to.” She shook her head “Bonnie would kill me. She’s really down at the moment.”

“Yeah?” Frank asked as the continued to splash in the shallow water.

Fliss nodded “She hasn’t told me what’s wrong. I’ll see if I can get it out of her tonight.” Frank pulled her closer, his hand leaving hers as he curled an arm round her shoulder and they continued to walk, talking as they did so. Eventually they reached the part of the beach which curved around the bay and headed over to the boardwalk so they could walk back to the car. As soon as she got back to her parents’, Fliss felt her earlier anxiety ebb away completely as Alex was fast asleep in the bassinet in the kitchen whilst Mary was playing in the pool with Bill and Steve. The entire family was over the moon when they announced they’d booked the date and Verity went off at 100 miles an hour talking about dresses and flowers until Bill gently reached over and squeezed her knee, reminding her it wasn’t her wedding. But neither Fliss nor Frank minded, it was nice to have their family so enthusiastic.

When Frank announced it was time to leave, Mary started protesting saying she wanted to stay the night. Frank refused, as she’d stayed the night before and he didn’t want Bill and Verity feeling obliged, but as usual Verity beamed and told her of course she could say. So they left her there and took Alex home. Once he had been fed, Fliss headed up for a shower and then contemplated what she was going to wear. Whilst she had lost the remainder of her baby bump so to speak, she was still bigger than she had been beforehand so her usual jeans didn’t quite fit yet. When she’d complained to Frank about it and said the last time she had been this size was after her accident, he had gotten a little frustrated at her, telling her that if she dared go on some stupid diet to lose it as fast as she had back then he would be seriously pissed at her. She’d bitten back, snapping at him that she knew it was out of the question. She didn’t want to for starters, as she had been so miserable when she’d been emotionally manipulated into doing so by John, and this time there was Alex to think about. If she was feeding and nursing him she didn’t want to be on some stupid crash diet. Besides which, she wasn’t eating that differently to how she had been before she was pregnant. It was the lack of exercise, as it had been back then. Frank had apologised for snapping, and she’d done the same assuring him that she would be sensible. She knew that she would lose most of it once she could go back to work and start riding again and if she didn’t, well, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Frank was constantly telling her she was beautiful and besides, what’s a few extra kilos when you have a gorgeous baby boy to show for it?

In the end she opted for a strapless, floaty lemon dress which she had worn in her early pregnancy days that flared out under her breast line and stopped just above her knees. She paired it with a pair of tan, leather gladiator sandals and left her hair down in the soft waves it dried in post her shower. She applied a little make up, smiling to herself at the fact this was probably the first time she had worn it since she had given birth. All in all, she couldn’t deny it was nice to actually feel like Fliss and not just momma bear even though the two went hand in hand now.

Grabbing her purse and dropping her lip gloss and phone inside she headed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Frank was sat on the sofa, Alex napping in the little basket which lay on the coffee table. He looked up, blinking at her appearance and smiled softly.

“You look fantastic.” He said, honestly.

“Thank you.” She smiled, heading over to give him a quick peck.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?” he offered again, nodding to Alex “He’ll sleep on the way.”

“No, honestly I’m not drinking. Well, maybe just one.” She shrugged.

“Back to grape juice instead of apple, huh?” he quipped and she smiled, running her finger over Alex’s rosy cheeks.

“Something like that.” She said, absentmindedly looking at her baby.

“Liss…” Frank said, watching her and she turned to him “Go, we’ll be fine.” “I know, I know…” she nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m going, I promise…” He chuckled and she gave him another kiss before she headed towards the door, she took a final look back at her baby and fiancée, the latter making a shooing gesture with his hands and she laughed, before she turned and walked out of the room. He heard the front door close behind her a let out a sigh of relief. He’d half been expecting her to back out but she hadn’t, she’d gone. Thankfully. He was desperate for her to go out and enjoy herself, she needed to see other people outside of their little family unit, it wasn’t healthy for her to be as isolated as she seemed to have made herself. He’d actually gotten a little worried to the point that he’d even asked his own Mother for advice and she had assured him that Fliss would settle, pointing out that it was nerve wracking being a new mum. He’d been surprised to learn that Evelyn hadn’t left him with anyone until he was almost 4 months old for fear something would go wrong, and that had comforted him a little to understand that this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. It had been slightly different with Diane as she’d leaned on him to help her a lot, but then again most things with Diane had been different.

He leaned back on the sofa, picking up the remote, his eyes falling once more to the basket.

“Just you and me tonight son…” he muttered, flicking to the TV finding the sports channel, selecting a re-run of a Red Sox game. “Time to start your education…” *****

“Oooh, how exciting!” Bonnie exclaimed as Fliss smiled, having just told her about them booking their wedding “It sounds amazing, that’s a gorgeous stretch of beach.”

“Yeah, it’s special to us so…” she smiled, and looked up as the waiter came to take their drinks order.

“Erm, do you want wine?” Bonnie asked.

Fliss hesitated for a second, before she shrugged “Just the one.”

Bonnie smiled and ordered them a bottle of Chardonnay and a large bottle of water. Once the Waiter was out of ear shot Fliss leaned forward “This way I don't need to pump and dump...”

Bonnie laughed “I always find that odd. I mean pumping and dumping doesn't get alcohol out of your system does it?” “No, but if I wanted to go out and get drunk I’d have to wait until I was sure all the alcohol had left my system before I fed him again.” Fliss shrugged “He’s already bottle fed at night so Frank can help and I wake up and my boobs are like fucking water melons so you can you imagine what they would be like after like 12 hours or whatever if I didn’t.” she shook her head. “But one glass, well my mum, midwife and Doctor Google say if I'm not feeding in the next 2 or 3 hours I should be ok.”

Their chat turned to Mary’s adoption, Fliss filling Bonnie in on how they’d begun the process legally now, Greg sorting and filing the paperwork and contacting her biological father earlier that week. So far they had heard nothing but they should start to see things progress fairly quickly once he had given his consent.

“And even if he doesn’t, Greg seems confident the court would find in our favour, Mary having been in Frank’s care since she was 6 months old.” Fliss shrugged, thanking the waiter as he placed the two bottles on the table. “So we’re not concerned, it would just be a lot easier and smoother if he does the right thing, you know?” The waiter finished filling both their glasses then placed the wine in the ice bucket before he then poured them each a water and asked them for their food orders. They placed them, Bonnie opting for scallops and the ribs, Fliss deciding on calamari and the steak. Once he was gone Bonnie looked at Fliss, picking up her glass.

“Do you think he will? Object, I mean.” Fliss paused, pondering for a moment “I don’t think so, I mean why would he? He made no effort to find Mary before the court case and now, even though he knows where she is, he still hasn’t so…” she shrugged, picking up her drink.

“Well…” Bonnie leaned over, holding her wine glass up “Here’s to it going smoothly and your first girl’s night out since becoming a momma.”

Fliss smiled and clinked her glass against Bonnie’s, before she took a sip and let out a soft moan “God that tastes sooo good.” “Well you could always dump the car as well as the milk.” Bonnie gestured to the bottle that lay in the ice bucket and Fliss laughed, shaking her head.

“Maybe next time.” She pulled out her phone and took a snap of her glass, sending it to Frank with the caption “Ok, so it tastes as good as I remember…” before she dropped her phone on the table.

They chatted a little more about general things, what Fliss had in mind for the wedding, the type of dress she thought she wanted, colour for bridesmaids, most of which she couldn’t answer as she had no idea really. It was odd that it was going to be her choice, but exciting none-the-less. At one point, her phone buzzed and she picked it up, letting out a chuckle at Frank’s reply to her earlier message. It was a photo of a beer bottle and a baby bottle side by side on the kitchen counter along with the words “Boy’s night in.” She showed it to Bonnie who gave a snort and Fliss placed the phone down and looked at her.

“So, what’s going on with you? I can tell you’re down.”

Bonnie fiddled slightly with her cutlery, before she shrugged “Simon’s being odd. I mean odder than normal before you say it.”

Fliss smiled and waited for her to continue.

“The last week or so, it’s like his mind is elsewhere. I’m beginning to wonder where it is, or more to the point who it’s with.”

Fliss frowned, her wine glass paused slightly in front of her mouth “You think he’s cheating?”

Bonnie shrugged “Honestly, I don’t know. Something’s going on.”

“I don’t think he would.” Fliss shook her head. “Is he not just stressed with work? Frank can get a little sullen if he’s got a lot on.” “Maybe.” Bonnie mused “He’s just normally so attentive and fun…I’m likely thinking too much into it, it’s probably nothing.”

“You should ask him straight.” Fliss said, looking at her “Tell him how you feel, give him a chance to explain. If there’s one thing the whole Vegas incident with Frank taught me is that things ain’t always what they seem Bon. It’s bound to be something really simple that’s just playing on his mind.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Bonnie nodded “I’ll ask him.”

At that point their starters arrived and they both started to eat, and Bonnie grinned. “So, anyway, back to your dress…you’d look fantastic in a straight, little lace number…” By the time they had finished eating and chatting, Fliss was wearing a bright, bubble-gum pink meringue complete with crystals and a sweetheart neckline to get married in-“because, you know- watermelons…” and the bridesmaids were all going to be in lime green. Fliss had told Bonnie to be careful what she was suggesting, as she didn’t think the woman’s skin tone would take kindly to be dressed in such a colour, at which point Bonnie had nearly choked and her eyes had filled as Fliss smiled and nodded, confirming that she’d just asked Bonnie to take the job. After a loud acceptance, Bonnie had jumped up and hugged Fliss, drawing curious glances from the tables around them.

Fliss dropped Bonnie at the condo she shared with Simon, along with an instruction to call her if she needed to chat again, and then she headed back home arriving just after 11pm. Letting herself in quietly, she made her way into the family room and paused in the doorway, smiling at the sight in front of her. Frank was led on the sofa, Alex clutched to his chest with two strong hands, the baby boy fast asleep.

“Before you panic…” Frank spoke, making her jump a little “I’m not asleep. Just resting my eyes.”

“I wasn’t panicking.” Fliss said, honestly “I know you’d never let him fall.”

Frank cracked open his eyes and smiled “You have a nice time?” he asked as she walked towards him. He gently shifted so he was sat up, Alex still held to his chest securely as Fliss sat next to him, peeking at the sleeping baby.

“Yeah, I did.” She nodded “The food was good. We definitely need to go.”

“Did you find out what was bothering Bonnie?”

“Yeah, she said Simon’s being odd with her.”

“Odder than normal?”

Fliss snorted, “That’s exactly what she said.” And she took a deep breath “She thinks he’s playing away.”

“Si?” Frank looked at her, “No, absolutely not. In fact, she couldn’t be further from the truth if she tried.”

“What do you mean?” Fliss frowned and Frank hesitated.

“He told me last week, and this cannot go any further as he will kill me, but he’s gonna propose.”

Fliss’ mouth dropped open before her face split into a grin “No shit?”

“Yes shit.” Frank nodded, smiling “Told me when he was drunk in Fergs.” Fliss leaned back against the cushions on the sofa, and her smile slipped a little “Oh shit.”

“What?” “I told her to talk to him, ask him what the problem was.” “Sensible advice in normal circumstances.” Frank shrugged “Don’t sweat it, it’ll be fine.”

“So when’s he gonna ask her?”

“No idea.” Frank shrugged “He didn’t say.”

“Did he not ask for ideas?”

Frank snorted “I’m the last person he should be asking. I was carrying your damned ring around for weeks trying to find the right moment. I almost did it by the tree at the Rockefeller centre, and then that ass hole beat me to it.”

Fliss gave a soft laugh as she shook her head “The way you did it was perfect.” “Yeah, I got there in the end.” He grinned.

At that point Alex stirred a little, making a few gripey noises before he began to get more restless, rooting against Frank’s T-shirt. “Think he might be hungry.” Frank smiled “Good timing Momma.”

Fliss chuckled and took Alex in her arms, adjusting her top as Frank stood up, heading to the kitchen “You want a drink?” he tossed over his shoulder.

“Yeah, camomile tea if there’s any going?”

Frank flipped on the kettle and watched from the counter as his girl nursed their baby, a deep sense of contentment brewing in his stomach, along with the usual low-key arousal he felt whenever she was doing anything with their son. Seeing her interact with his baby, the baby she’d carried and given birth to was purely amazing and he loved watching it. He made her a tea, grabbed himself another beer and then sat down next to her as she finished up feeding and he offered to take Alex to wind him as she sorted herself out and had her drink. Eventually he settled again and went back down, leaving the two of them to snuggle up on the couch. They stayed together for half an hour or so before Fliss yawned and said she needed to sleep.

“I’ll take him up. You coming?” she asked.

“I’ll be up shortly” he promised as she sat up, cracking her neck.

“Oh, gonna watch porn and jerk off?” she teased and he sighed, shooting her a look.

“You’re not funny.”

“Not trying to be.” She shrugged, leaning over to kiss him softly.

“What would you do if I was?” he mumbled against her lips and she paused, pulling back slightly, arching her eyebrows.

“Well, I’d probably have to remind you that the real thing is much better.” She said, her hand gently cupping at his crotch.

“Ok, you need to stop.” He said, his voice a whisper before he let out a groan as she ignored him completely, her grip growing harder and his hand wrapped gently around her wrist. “Lissy, seriously…” “Oh shut up” she mumbled, before she shook off his grip and snaked her hand into the waistband of his shorts, taking his hardening member in her hand. She gave it a light pump or two before she pulled at his shorts, and he lifted his hips slightly to allow her to pull them down.

“Baby…” he said softly, but his protests died in his throat as she bent down and took him to the back of hers.

*****

“Well, I’m happy that everything seems ok and back to normal.” The Ob Gyn smiled at Fliss as she moved away from where she had been examining her “So if you feel ok in yourself, no physical pain, nothing…” “Nope, nothing at all.” Fliss shook her head

“Well then Miss Gallagher your life can go back to normal” she smiled, “Well, as normal as it is 6 weeks post giving birth.”

Fliss smiled “So I can start riding again?”

“Yup, as long as you make sure you take it easy. As with anything, you won’t have used certain muscles in a while so be careful.”

“Ok.” Fliss nodded.

“Are you going to continue breast feeding?” the woman asked and Fliss nodded.

“Yeah, which is something I wanted to talk to you about. What contraception can I use?”

“There’s condoms obviously, I can prescribe the mini pill or there’s the IUD.”

“Is an IUD safe?” Fliss asked, “I don’t want to use condoms and to be honest, with my baby brain I’ll probably end up forgetting my pill. That’s what led us here in the first place and that was before I’d had a baby.”

The Doctor chuckled. “To be honest, the most effective contraceptives are intrauterine devices and they’re perfectly safe despite what you might read on the internet. The Mirena IUD releases a very small amount of hormone into the uterus, where it works locally and it won’t affect the quality and quantity of breast milk, and it’s also safe and effective for five years. It’s a good choice, one I prefer to recommend when I can.”

Fliss nodded “Ok, that seems like a good choice. How do I get one fit?”

“I can do it now if you want.” The woman smiled “And the best bit is it works immediately.” “Straight away?” Fliss looked at her “So…” “Yep.” The Ob Gyn smiled “You can go straight home and jump his bones if you so wish.”

Fliss laughed, and contemplated the woman’s words for a second. She did want. Truth be told she’d been low key horny since she’d blown Frank off on the couch a fortnight or so ago, but hadn’t wanted to rush anything, choosing to wait instead for the all clear at her 6 week check-up. Now, well, there was nothing stopping them getting physically close again and the thought drew a smile to her face. She couldn’t wait to have her Sailor holding her again.

“Ok, yeah” she nodded to the woman who smiled.

“I’ll sort the paper work, grab my kit and be right back.” The doctor smiled.

Driving home Fliss had all sorts of thoughts about how to make their night special. Romantic candles perhaps, maybe a little nice underwear…that is if she could find any that fit her still.

But of course, best laid plans and all that. In reality, the evening unfolded like any other, with shitty diapers, breast pumping, and a dinner eaten while taking turns bouncing a 6 week old baby in their laps as he had chosen that particular night to be awkward about settling after his feed, it was almost as if he could sense what Fliss had in mind and was doing his best to veto her plans.

Around 9 pm once Mary was in bed and Alex had been bathed, changed and fed, Fliss slipped away to prepare her body for its first round of postnatal coitus. She took a bath to unwind and shaved her armpits and legs. She also considered tackling her lady bush, but realized that her razor wasn’t sharp enough for that jungle right now so Frank was just going to have to deal with the crotch afro if he wanted a bit.

She climbed out of the bath and wrapped herself in her robe, heading into the bedroom where she dried off and set about her skin care routine before she decided to go the whole hog and paint her toenails a deep crimson colour, replacing the shimmery baby pink that she had done a few weeks ago as celebration she could finally see her damned feet again. Then she shed her robe and stole a quick look in the mirror. All things considered she conceded she didn’t look too bad. She wasn’t so much bothered by the extra pounds but more so slightly disturbed by the way they seemed to have positioned themselves on her body. It was almost like small, flesh-coloured bread loaves stapled to her belly. But, like she knew she could sort most of that out with riding and getting more active again, what she wasn’t sure exercise would do anything for was her breasts. They were large, which in itself wasn’t a problem, on the contrary in fact, as Frank was a self-proclaimed boob man, but her nipples had starburst over her breasts without any clearly definitive ending points. She was debating whether or not to try and put a little foundation on them, to tone down the nipple extravaganza but stopped herself, realising she was being utterly fucking ridiculous.

This was Frank she was preparing for. The man she’d been with for years, her fiancée whose baby she had carried and given birth to. And she knew he loved her, starfish nips or not.

She set about finding some suitable underwear. She had a few nice sets, some she had bought for herself, some Frank had purchased for her but as she laid them out on the bed she knew she wouldn’t feel comfortable in any of them. Continuing her search she finally found a pair of black lace briefs that skated along her ass cheeks and a black sheer negligee that she had worn a few times pre- pregnancy, in particular one very raunchy night where she’d surprised Frank by wearing it in the kitchen one evening when Mary had been at Roberta’s, cooking their dinner as if it was perfectly normal to be dressed that way. Dinner had ended up burnt, the smoke detectors going off, and they’d sat curled up with a Thai take out and all the windows open in an attempt to rid the place of the smell of cremated lamb chops and potatoes.

She shimmied into it, and to her delight it fit, even if her breasts were a little larger. They spilled over the top but her cleavage looked Elizabethan in a sexy way, and she grinned as she knew exactly what Frank was going to say about that. Finally, she removed her hair form its high bun, which had served nicely to give it some volume and fluffed it up and decided that the overall effect was actually pretty good.

She lay back on the bed, grabbed her phone and turned it into selfie mode, angling it just right so that she could get the full effect before she checked it, and fired it to Frank with a downright filthy message accompanying it and lay back to wait.

***** Frank had nodded when Fliss had said she was tired and needed to go to bed, and promised he’d be up in an hour or so, wanting to give her the time to just unwind. She’d been for her 6 week check-up and had assured him that everything was fine, but her general demeanour told him she was keeping something from him.

Trying not to think about it too much, he settled Alex down and flicked over to catch a re-run of Game of Thrones. It was the Battle Of The Bastards, his favourite episode of the entire series, and he was just mumbling to himself, calling Rickon Stark a ‘dumb ass mother fucker’ for not zig-zagging when his phone went. He absentmindedly reached for it, wondering if it was Simon telling him he’d finally grown a pair of balls and proposed, but it wasn’t, it was Fliss.

He opened the message and as soon as he saw the image he spluttered and the soda he had just taken a drink of dribbled straight down his shirt.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” he mumbled, wiping at the spilled Fanta, as he stared at the photo. His girl was led on the bed, in a sheer negligee, her hair fanning over the pillow, eyes bright and mischievous and the shot was angled to give a perfect shot of the top of her cleavage. It was accompanied with the words. “Oh I forgot to tell you, your favourite legs are back open for business…”

“You devious little minx…” he mumbled, suddenly understanding exactly what it was she’d been hiding from him, and his cock stirred in his pants. In a flash her was up off the sofa, shoving Thor out of the door so he could pee before he locked up, gathered Alex in his arms and made his way up the stairs as fast as he could, letting the dog into Mary’s room as he was scrambling at the door to get in.

“What kept you?” Fliss asked as he walked into the room, gently placing Alex in the bedside crib, making sure the blankets were arranged carefully.

“Well you kinda caught me off guard…” he said, lifting an eyebrow as he gently lowered himself over her on the bed, gently tugging her hips and pulling her down slightly before he propped himself up on his elbows, caging her between his arms and legs. “You look sexy as fuck baby girl!” Fliss let out a grin as his lips met hers, and his eyes lowered to her cleavage and he gave a groan. “And I’m not supposed to touch these?”

“No.”

“At all?”

“Not unless you want a face full of milk.” She looked at him.

“Is it strange I find that a little kinky?” he grinned and she blinked, shaking her head with a snort.

“You have issues.”

“Yeah and right now they’re in the trouser department.” He mumbled, dropping his lips to hers “I nearly choked when you sent me that message.”

“You like?” she purred gently and he let out another groan and nodded.

“I did, I do. A lot.” He smirked, his lips pressing to hers again. The kiss quickly became heated, his hands tangling in her hair has he held her head still, and then he felt her pull away a little, and he frowned as she looked at him, biting her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

"Is it weird that we’re like gonna have sex with our baby in the same room? Can he see us?” she asked, her head rolling to look at Alex. "No, he can't even focus yet, and it’s not weird. I’m a modern man.” He said, his hand cupping her cheek and turning his face back to his. “This is how it’s done. It’s probably very European of us actually." "Frank I'm from England..." she rolled her eyes. "Lissy..." he sighed softly, “Look, if you don't wanna..."

“No I do, I really do…” she took a deep breath “Sorry, I just…” “It’s ok…” he gave her a soft smile, before his lips found hers again. In between the dizzying kisses Frank moved his right hand, his fingers gently tracing up the outside of her thigh and under the hem of the sheer lace slip she was wearing, and his mouth moved to lightly trail kisses across her bare collar bone. With a soft sigh she nodded, acknowledging his unasked question and his lips moved downwards peppering warm, open mouthed peck across the swell of her cleavage, careful to take his time and stay gentle. Fliss let out a shaky whisper of his name, her hands tangling into his hair as he moved his affections upwards slightly, skimming his nose up her sternum, nudging her chin back so he could turn his affections back to her neck. This time her gentle whisper became a loud groan which she stifled with her hand as he nipped at her neck and he felt her shiver underneath him.

“You ok?” he asked quietly, looking down at her. She nodded and with a wicked quirk of his eyebrow he stood up, scrambling out of his clothes as fast as he could before he fell forwards again, his hands pulling down her underwear, lips kissing at the spot just below her ear.

Fliss was utterly gone now, consumed by the sensations she hadn’t felt in so long and she tilted her head back, sighing softly as he continued to nibble at her neck, settling himself above her. His fingers gently dropped between her legs and he felt her slick against the tips as he gently coaxed at her clit, continuing until she was nothing short of a writhing mess clawing at his back, aching for him. They locked eyes as he took her left hand in his, and slowly worked into her, both moaning simultaneously at the sensation, Fliss’ eyelids fluttering shut as she felt him fill her.

“Go steady.” she whispered and with a gently nod Frank began to move his hips slowly, displaying nothing but absolute tenderness in his thrusts which weren’t measured in the slightest. His free hand kept hold of her hip, keeping her as close as she could possibly be, enjoying the sensation of once more being inside her, in top of her, surrounded by her.

Meanwhile, Fliss was just as lost, but in her own thoughts. For some reason as good as she had felt before, now she was starting to panic a little, that stupid voice in her head mumbling all sorts of dumbass thoughts.

Okay, this feels familiar. Sex feels the same. Does it feel the same for him? Is he taking longer than normal? Oh shit, maybe I’m super stretched out and it’s terrible. Maybe I’m different now, and I’ll never be as good. Maybe I was never THAT good to start with though? I’ll ask… “Is it good? Is it the same as it was?” she gasped out and Frank stilled, looking down at her.

“What?” he panted slightly. "I asked does it feel the same? I mean..." He leaned down, gently rubbing his nose against hers. “It’s great … it feels really good.” He reassured her and she nodded.

“Ok, you can go a bit faster…”

“I don’t want to.” He mumbled, giving her a deep kiss. And he didn’t. He was enjoying the slowness of it all, and he kept his lazy thrusts aimed perfectly on her spot, drawing those delectable sounds from her throat. Fliss’ senses were on fire, and she broke the long, lazy kiss that they were sharing to stifle a moan against his shoulder when she felt herself starting to unravel.

And then…

A loud cry came from the basinet. They both stilled, looked at one another, and glanced over to the side of the bed. Silence, no movement bar the waving of a little arm.

"He's going to cry.” Fliss said between her deep breathing “If he cries, do we stop? Is it child abuse if we keep going until we finish?" "He's stopped." Frank said, turning his head back to her. “What if there's something wrong and we’re here just boning."

Frank shut her up with a languid roll of his hips and she gave a soft gasp, her hands grasping at his biceps.

“Liss, he’s fine.”

“'We’re the kind of negligent parents…oh fuck….” She groaned as he tilted his hips again… “The one’s you’d see in a movie like Trainspotting."

He shook his head, pulling out a little before he sank back into her, her body moving with his slightly and she looked up at him.

“When the police ask what happened, do we lie? Or do we say we were having sex while our baby quietly suffocated a few feet away?”

“For fucks sake Lissy…” he spluttered in frustration “You gave me a blow job the other week on the sofa and he was asleep in the basket on the coffee table.”

“That was different” “How?”

“We were on the couch and I wasn't naked.” “You’re not naked now.” He shook his head “Will you shut up and let me make you feel good?” Her random, stupid worries stopped and she closed her eyes, nodding, and he started his movements again. It didn’t take him long to get them back to where they were, his thrusts deep and he picked up his pace ever so slightly, her hands flying to his bare back as she gripped him tighter, wanting to feel all of him, as close as she possibly could. His lips found hers and she took the kiss, it leaving her breathless as the heat began to rise in her belly and she let out a soft moan, which he swallowed with his mouth where it morphed into his own low, mumble of her name as he felt her clench around him. The sheets rustled underneath them both as their pace continued slow and languid until the very end when Fliss’ let her head tip back, her throat bared to Frank in utter bliss as she came hard, the world spinning around her, her moans soft and breathy as her legs trembled, sheer pleasure spearing through her entire body.

Frank gave a low grunt which tuned into a gasp as he clung to his girl, spilling himself into her, his hips slowing to a stop as he collapsed forward.

“That was fucking great.” he said, voice muffled as his face pressed into her neck, and she felt herself flush. She let out a chuckle as her hands gently slid up his back and into his hair.

“Yeah, we still got it Sailor.”  She said and it was his turn to chuckle as he moved and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

And then Alex did erupt into a full on screaming fit. Frank found himself thanking his son that he’d at least had the good grace to wait until he’d finished. He rolled off Fliss, landing on his back, hand running through his hair as she sat up and scooped Alex into her arms, sitting up against the headboard with him held to her, in the bed where his parents’ sinful deeds were likely still detectable. Frank looked at her, then to Alex whose tiny face was creased up in a loud wail as Fliss held him to her chest, trying to soothe him and he arched an eyebrow. "I take it the post sex snuggling is out?"

[outerjjbx]

Jiara July Jubilee

Day 4, 29th of July- destination day

words: 1.6k

JJ had always wanted to go to Australia.

It started when he was 10 years old. He was spending the night at John B’s, and Big John had insisted that they had to see Point Break. JJ wasn’t one to turn down a movie, especially if it involved surfing, so he agreed. By the end, when he was watching Bodhi paddle out to the waves of Bells Beach, he decided that his one goal in life was to go to Australia and surf those same waves.

A quick Google search revealed that it wasn’t really filmed in Bells Beach, and that those were actually waves from Oregon. Still, that didn’t affect his dream- he was going to surf at Bells Beach, Torquay, or die trying, just like Bodhi.

That’s what he wanted to do with the gold. He hadn’t told anyone, mainly because he hadn’t believed they would actually find it, but it was still true. He could go ‘full Kook’ after, but the trip was a priority.

When John B called from the Bahamas and told the Pogues both him and Sarah were alive, and that they had located some of the gold, JJ couldn’t believe his ears. His best friend eventually returned to the Outer Banks, with 100 million dollars converted from gold to money. It was only a quarter of the original amount, but it was enough to set each Pogues (plus Sarah) for life. They split it five ways, ending up with 20 million each.

As expected, the first thing that JJ did was book a flight to Victoria, Australia. John B and Sarah were travelling by themselves, and Pope was studying to get into some Ivy League college, so that just left JJ and Kiara. She was just as eager as him to travel to Australia; not only for the waves, but also for the wildlife. JJ was shocked by that, since he was pretty sure everything there could kill a herd of elephants with a single bite, but he was fine with her doing what she wanted as long as it meant JJ got to surf.

It took at least three days to convince Anna and Mike Carrera to let their sixteen year old daughter travel across the world with her delinquent best friend. They still weren’t happy about it, but enough begging, a reminder that her mother had travelled to England by herself at the same age and a promise to call every single day sealed the deal.

They needed parental consent to legally fly by themselves, meaning they had to stop by to see JJ’s dad for a signature. Kiara has suggested forging it, but JJ just sighed and shook his head, claiming he ‘had to face the music’. He hadn’t seen him since he took the keys to The Phantom, and he knew there were going to be dire consequences. He made Kiara wait outside as he went in, returning with a busted lip and a collection of new bruises, but a signature as well.

The flight was probably the most difficult part. JJ had never flown before, let alone for 17 hours. They had booked first class tickets, which definitely made it better, but the turbulence still made JJ wish he’d stayed home. Kiara found it amusing at first, but watching JJ struggle to breathe for over half a day straight was enough to make her wish the same thing.

Landing was simultaneously the scariest and best thing JJ had ever experienced. Feeling like he was plummeting towards the ground was terrifying, and his ears hurt like hell, but being safely on the runway after being convinced he wasn’t going to survive was the greatest relief of his life.

The pair were jet lagged beyond relief, but that didn’t stop JJ from running around Melbourne Airport like it was a theme park. Kiara had made them stop in there first so they could do some sightseeing in Melbourne city, and JJ had begrudgingly agreed. She knew he would enjoy it once they were actually there.

They had brought luggage and their boards with them, so they found a hotel where they could drop it all off and stay the night in. JJ suggested a room with one bed, causing Kiara to roll her eyes as she ordered one with two. His playful flirting was annoying at times, but it was harmless. Kiara knew he didn’t mean anything by it.

Neither of them knew their way around, and JJ had never been in a proper city before, so they spent hours just roaming the streets. Kiara has experienced her fair share of famous cities, and she had to admit Melbourne was nice. It still had that distinct city smell, the mixture of rubbish and oil, but it was relatively clean. The oldish buildings and street art were mesmerising, and the coffee was insane. She regretted letting JJ try any, though, because he was practically bouncing off the walls after a latté.

JJ made her take a dozen photos of him in Hosier Lane, her favourite being one of him pretending to kiss a muriel of Mike Wasowksi. She giggled as he tried to speak to the locals with a terrible accent, watching them pull disgusted expressions and back away. JJ was buying all the food he could get his hands on, his meal choices ranging from Indian to Subway, and Kiara couldn’t help but wonder what kept him going.

JJ ran across the road, nearly getting hit by a trolley, or a tram, as a local had told them, for the dozenth time. Kiara jogged to catch up to him and hit him on the arm.

“It doesn’t make any sense!” JJ exclaimed. “They’re road trains. Australia’s weird.”

“We have them in America too, dumbass,” Kiara said. “And besides, they’re better for the environment. Easier than trains, and better than cars.”

JJ shook his head. “What’s the point of cities, anyway? They just created greenhouse gases and, like, burn shit. Everyone should live on islands.”

Kiara raised an eyebrow. “This technically is an island, you know. It’s surrounded by water.”

“No, little islands,” JJ quipped. “Like ours.”

“And what would happen to the rest of the land?” Kiara asked, amused.

JJ shrugged. “I dunno. Who cares?”

Kiara laughed and began to walk down the street. “Come on. You want to make it to Torquay, don’t you?”

That caught JJ’s attention. He basically sprinted towards her, skidding to a stop so he could walk by her side. They made their way to their hotel, watching movies and eating room service for the rest of the night. Not having to worry about spending too much money was definitely a luxury JJ was taking advantage of, but Kiara was trying to keep her spending on the down-low. She wanted to make sure it lasted her whole life, including more travelling, and spending recklessly wasn’t going to allow that.

The next morning, Kiara had to practically drag JJ out of bed. He groaned something about being paralysed as she pulled their luggage to the door. Eventually, after a difficult process she was not looking forward to reliving, she got JJ up and they went downstairs for breakfast. There was a buffet, and JJ took advantage of the unlimited pastries and cereal.

The trip to Torquay was a flurry of trains, walks and buses. Driving would have been much easier, but they unfortunately discovered that the Australian driving system was very different than their’s. Besides, they didn’t want to learn how to drive on the wrong side of the road.

They booked their accommodation at the closest resort they could find to Bell’s Beach. The day was nearly over by the time they arrived, so they just spent some time messing around by the pool and ordering mocktails. They befriended a boy their age that was visiting from New South Wales, and they were astounded to see his parents ordering him beers. He told them it was normal, since he was seventeen and close to the legal drinking age, but they still found it hard to believe.

Kiara managed to get JJ out of bed relatively early in the morning, and they stopped at a nearby café for breakfast before venturing off the Bells Beach. JJ was running ahead, surfboard under arm as he navigated the hills leading down to the shore and looked out at the waves.

JJ’s grin was a mile wide as he stared out at the sea. Kiara joined him, admittedly growing nervous at the sight of the giant waves. They were bigger than she’d ever seen, spanning at least forty feet. She watched as JJ bolted out into the water, moving expertly. If she didn’t know him, she’d think he was a local that had surfed there a thousand times.

The waves were nothing like the ones in the Outer Banks, and they wiped out countless times. JJ made it worth it, though, because he looked to be having the time of his life every time he emerge from the water, coughing around his laugh. Kiara caught herself watching him more times than she’d like to admit, his admiring him for afar.

JJ had never been happier. He had never truly believed his dream would come true, and it was so much better than he’d expected. The waves felt like home, and he never wanted to leave.

The sea softened as the sun began to set. Kiara joined JJ in a calm area and they sat on their boards together, just watching the horizon.

“Thanks for coming with me,” JJ spoke, his eyes shifting to meet his friend’s.

Kiara leant over and ruffled his hair, making him grin and swat his hand away. “Anytime.”

[newstfionline]

Tuesday, May 18, 2021

Fire Season Comes Early To California (CNN) Fire weather is coming early to California this year. For the first time since 2014, parts of Northern California are seeing a May “red flag” fire warning due to dry and windy conditions. The warning coverage area extends from Redding in the north to Modesto in the south, and includes portions of the Central Valley and the state capital of Sacramento. The warning also extends to the eastern edges of the Bay Area. A brush fire that started Friday in Pacific Palisades flared up Saturday due to gusty winds, burning more than 1,300 acres and threatening homes in Topanga Canyon. Topanga State Park in the Santa Monica Mountains is about 20 miles west of downtown Los Angeles. The Palisades fire caused about 1,000 people to be evacuated from their homes early Sunday, with other residents on standby to leave.

Pandemic Refugees at the Border (NYT) The Biden administration continues to grapple with swelling numbers of migrants along the southwestern border. Most of them are from Central America, fleeing gang violence and natural disasters. But the past few months have also brought a much different wave of migration that the Biden administration was not prepared to address: pandemic refugees. They are people arriving in ever greater numbers from far-flung countries where the coronavirus has caused unimaginable levels of illness and death and decimated economies and livelihoods. If eking out an existence was challenging in such countries before, in many of them it has now become almost impossible. According to official data released this week, 30 percent of all families encountered along the border in April hailed from countries other than Mexico and the Central American countries of Guatemala, Honduras and El Salvador, compared to just 7.5 percent in April 2019, during the last border surge. The coronavirus pandemic has had far-reaching consequences for the global economy, erasing hundreds of millions of jobs. And it has disproportionately affected developing countries, where it could set back decades of progress, according to economists. About 13,000 migrants have landed in Italy, the gateway to Europe, so far this year, three times as many as in the same period last year. At the U.S.-Mexico border in recent months, agents have stopped people from more than 160 countries, and the geography coincides with the path of the virus’s worst devastation.

The U.S. conversation on Israel is changing, no matter Biden’s stance (Washington Post) In Washington, support for the Palestinian plight is getting louder in Congress. On Friday, Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) wrote a widely circulated New York Times op-ed pulling the spotlight away from Hamas’s provocations to the deeper reality of life for millions of Palestinians living under blockade and occupation. He pointed to the havoc unleashed in recent weeks by rampaging mobs of Jewish extremists in Jerusalem, as well as the questionable Israeli legal attempts to forcibly evict the Palestinian residents of a neighborhood in the contested holy city. “None of this excuses the attacks by Hamas, which were an attempt to exploit the unrest in Jerusalem, or the failures of the corrupt and ineffective Palestinian Authority, which recently postponed long-overdue elections,” Sanders wrote. “But the fact of the matter is that Israel remains the one sovereign authority in the land of Israel and Palestine, and rather than preparing for peace and justice, it has been entrenching its unequal and undemocratic control.”      In another era, Sanders would have cut a lonely figure among his colleagues. But he is not alone. A number of Democratic lawmakers, including solidly pro-Israel politicians, issued statements indicating their displeasure with the casualties caused by Israel’s attacks in Gaza. Others were more vocal, accusing Israel of “apartheid.” Alexandria Ocasio Cortez (D-NY) tweeted: “This is happening with the support of the United States....the US vetoed the UN call for a ceasefire. If the Biden admin can’t stand up to an ally, who can it stand up to? How can they credibly claim to stand for human rights?” Jeremy Ben-Ami, president of J Street, a center-left pro-Israel advocacy organization that increasingly reflects the mainstream position of American liberals, said in a briefing with reporters last week that the “diplomatic blank check to the state of Israel” given out by successive U.S. administrations has meant that “Israel has no incentive to end occupation and find a solution to the conflict.”

Mexico City is sinking (Wired) When Darío Solano‐Rojas moved from his hometown of Cuernavaca to Mexico City to study at the National Autonomous University of Mexico, the layout of the metropolis confused him. “What surprised me was that everything was kind of twisted and tilted,” says Solano‐Rojas. “At that time, I didn't know what it was about. I just thought, ‘Oh, well, the city is so much different than my hometown.’” Different, it turned out, in a bad way. Picking up the study of geology at the university, Solano‐Rojas met geophysicist Enrique Cabral-Cano, who was actually researching the surprising reason for that infrastructural chaos: The city was sinking—big time. It’s the result of a geological phenomenon called subsidence, which usually happens when too much water is drawn from underground, and the land above begins to compact. According to new modeling by the two researchers and their colleagues, parts of the city are sinking as much as 20 inches a year. In the next century and a half, they calculate, areas could drop by as much as 65 feet. Spots just outside Mexico City proper could sink 100 feet. That twisting and tilting Solano‐Rojas noticed was just the start of a slow-motion crisis for 9.2 million people in the fastest-sinking city on Earth. And because some parts are slumping dramatically and others aren’t, the infrastructure that spans the two zones is sinking in some areas but staying at the same elevation in others. And that threatens to break roads, metro networks, and sewer systems. “Subsistence by itself may not be a terrible issue,” says Cabral-Cano. “But it's the difference in this subsistence velocity that really puts all civil structures under different stresses.”

Today’s the day: British holidaymakers return to Portugal as travel ban ends (Reuters) Sun-hungry British visitors descended on Portuguese beaches once again on Monday as a four-month long ban on travel between the two countries due to the COVID-19 pandemic ended, in a much-needed boost for the struggling tourism sector. Twenty-two flights from Britain are due to land in Portugal on Monday, with most heading to the southern Algarve region, famous for its beaches and golf courses but nearly deserted as the pandemic kept tourists away. Visitors from Britain must present evidence of a negative coronavirus test taken 72 hours before boarding their flights to Portugal and there is no need to quarantine for COVID-19 when returning home. Back at home, most British people will be free once again to hug, albeit cautiously, drink a pint in their pub, sit down to an indoor meal or visit the cinema after the ending of a series of lockdowns that imposed the strictest ever restrictions in peacetime.

Afghans who helped the US now fear being left behind (AP) He served as an interpreter alongside U.S. soldiers on hundreds of patrols and dozens of firefights in eastern Afghanistan, earning a glowing letter of recommendation from an American platoon commander and a medal of commendation. Still, Ayazudin Hilal was turned down when he applied for one of the scarce special visas that would allow him to relocate to the U.S. with his family. Now, as American and NATO forces prepare to leave the country, he and thousands of others who aided the war effort fear they will be left stranded, facing the prospect of Taliban reprisals. “We are not safe,” the 41-year-old father of six said of Afghan civilians who worked for the U.S. or NATO. “The Taliban is calling us and telling us, ‘Your stepbrother is leaving the country soon, and we will kill all of you guys.’” At least 300 interpreters have been killed in Afghanistan since 2016, and the Taliban have made it clear they will continue to be targeted, said Matt Zeller, a co-founder of No One Left Behind, an organization that advocates on their behalf. He also served in the country as an Army officer. “The Taliban considers them to be literally enemies of Islam,” said Zeller, now a fellow at the Truman National Security Project. “There’s no mercy for them.”

A Desperate India Falls Prey to Covid Scammers (NYT) Within the world’s worst coronavirus outbreak, few treasures are more coveted than an empty oxygen canister. India’s hospitals desperately need the metal cylinders to store and transport the lifesaving gas as patients across the country gasp for breath. So a local charity reacted with outrage when one supplier more than doubled the price, to nearly $200 each. The charity called the police, who discovered what could be one of the most brazen, dangerous scams in a country awash with coronavirus-related fraud and black-market profiteering. The police say the supplier—a business called Varsha Engineering, essentially a scrapyard—had been repainting fire extinguishers and selling them as oxygen canisters. The consequences could be deadly: The less-sturdy fire extinguishers might explode if filled with high-pressure oxygen. A coronavirus second wave has devastated India’s medical system. Hospitals are full. Drugs, vaccines, oxygen and other supplies are running out. Pandemic profiteers are filling the gap. In many cases, the sellers prey on the desperation and grief of families.

Full-blown boycott pushed for Beijing Olympics (AP) Groups alleging human-rights abuses against minorities in China are calling for a full-blown boycott of the 2022 Winter Olympics in Beijing, a move likely to ratchet up pressure on the International Olympic Committee, athletes, sponsors and sports federations. A coalition representing Uyghurs, Tibetans, residents of Hong Kong and others issued a statement Monday calling for the boycott, eschewing lesser measures that had been floated like “diplomatic boycotts” and further negotiations with the IOC or China. “The time for talking with the IOC is over,” Lhadon Tethong of the Tibet Action Institute said in an exclusive interview with The Associated Press. “This cannot be games as usual or business as usual; not for the IOC and not for the international community.” The push for a boycott comes a day before a joint hearing in the U.S. Congress focusing on the Beijing Olympics and China’s human-rights record, and just days after the United States Olympic and Paralympic Committee said boycotts are ineffective and only hurt athletes.

Grief Mounts as Efforts to Ease Israel-Hamas Fight Falter (NYT) Diplomats and international leaders were unable Sunday to mediate a cease-fire in the latest conflict between Israel and Hamas, as Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu of Israel vowed to continue the fight and the United Nations Security Council failed to agree on a joint response to the worsening bloodshed. The diplomatic wrangling occurred after the fighting, the most intense seen in Gaza and Israel for seven years, entered its deadliest phase yet. At least 42 Palestinians were killed early Sunday morning in an airstrike on several apartments in Gaza City, Palestinian officials said, the conflict’s most lethal episode so far. The number of people in killed in Gaza rose to 197 over the seven days of the conflict, according to Palestinian officials, while the number of Israeli residents killed by Palestinian militants climbed to 11, including one soldier, the Israeli government said.

Israel, Hamas trade fire in Gaza as war rages on (AP) Israel carried out a wave of airstrikes on what it said were militant targets in Gaza, leveling a six-story building, and militants fired dozens of rockets into Israel on Tuesday. Palestinians across the region observed a general strike as the war, now in its second week, showed no signs of abating. The strikes toppled a building that housed libraries and educational centers belonging to the Islamic University. Residents sifted through the rubble, searching for their belongings.

Israel’s aftermath (Foreign Policy) In Israel, the aftermath of days of violence in mixed Arab-Israeli towns has led to a one-sided reaction from state prosecutors: Of the 116 indictments served so far against those arrested last week, all have been against Arab-Israeli citizens, Haaretz reports. Meanwhile, Yair Lapid, whose centrist Yesh Atid party’s chances of forming a coalition government has crumbled since the violence broke out, placed the blame on Netanyahu. If he was in charge, Lapid said on Sunday, no one would have to question “why the fire always breaks out precisely when it’s most convenient for the prime minister.”

Long working hours can be a killer, WHO study shows (Reuters) Working long hours is killing hundreds of thousands of people a year in a worsening trend that may accelerate further due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the World Health Organization said on Monday. In the first global study of the loss of life associated with longer working hours, the paper in the journal Environment International showed that 745,000 people died from stroke and heart disease associated with long working hours in 2016. That was an increase of nearly 30% from 2000. “Working 55 hours or more per week is a serious health hazard,” said Maria Neira, director of the WHO’s Department of Environment, Climate Change and Health. The joint study, produced by the WHO and the International Labour Organization, showed that most victims (72%) were men and were middle-aged or older. Often, the deaths occurred much later in life, sometimes decades later, than the shifts worked. It also showed that people living in Southeast Asia and the Western Pacific region were the most affected.

[bts7writings]

My Harmony II

Part I | Part II | ???

Pairing: Reader x Chanyeol

Genre: Smut | Fluff | Humor

Words: 3K

See you tomorrow? It’s Chanyeol by the way

You reread the words, scolding yourself for feeling any sort of giddiness from it, the universe just seems to love testing your limit. You tap on his number and save it to you contact before responding.

With that proper grammar? Don't think so? Kidding - See you tomorrow.

You suck on your teeth and make a point of leaning you phone as far form you as you can to decrease any amount of distraction. If he texts back you will not answer, you chant in your head as you open your first folder of work.

This chant works just fine, until you start moving onto pile number two, when the small vibrations from your phone carry throughout your desk. Contemplating the seriousness of your work ethics, your hand inches to grab your phone; Fully expecting it to be one of your friends to nag you about how you're spending your weekend.

“Y/n?”

You pull yourself away from your phone to double check exactly who you were talking to that managed to manifest rough deep consensual intercourse into a voice. Ffffuck me

You lips your lips once over and try to keep your voice monotoned. “Why are you calling me?”

“Um…because I have your number now?” You hear him laugh slightly at your question, bringing a small smile from you.

“That doesn’t mean you can-“

“I know I just wanted to hear your voice - I thought texting was enough, but I like your sarcastic tones better.”

There’s an awkward silence after his blunt confession. It’s a known fact that idols are known to flirt with staff and other idols - they’re human too. It’s also a known fact that you can get screwed over if you carry on thinking they are just normal people you can hang around with. One day you could be on cloud nine dating Korea’s top boyband and the next thing you know you’re rocking the “I got my hair pulled by a fan and might get fired if he gets tired of me” look.

“Chanyeol…” you warn despite your accelerated heart rate.

“Y/n…” he imitates your tone and scoffs, “why aren’t you signed to the company”

Your eyes roll again unable to stop, you weren’t an idol becuase you didn’t like the public scene, but telling him that would mean you were telling something personal. “That wouldn’t fix your problem of liking me, so-”

“Is it just my problem? Don’t you want to be the problem too?”

“I-“ you get interrupted by a beep from him side, another call. “You should probably answer that”

“It’s nothing important. Finish what you were saying”

“It could be your manager - answer it”

“It’s just a call from Yi. Y/-“

And there goes your own thoughts on the mater on whether you like him or not. We’re talking about a male idol that can, will, and probably does get any girl he wants.

“Of course” you roll your eyes, typical - sarcasm levels at 100%. “Why wouldn’t a new female staff have your number?”

“No- it’s not like that”

“Call her back, I have massive piles of work and don’t have time to entertain you.” Before you can hear a cute remark from his end you shut down your phone.

“This is bad news, y/n and you know it.” You whisper to yourself resuming to your work piles.

.            .            .            .

Maybe shutting down your phone wasn't the best idea.

The next morning, well afternoon since thats around the time it should be legal to wake up, one huge grey car was parked on the path towards the buildings garbage disposal.

Having to walk all the way around it, you mentally cursed out the personing owning the car. As you barely passed the car, your eyes were halted mid roll as the horn was pressed to cause a semi heart attack.

You turn around not sure if you're pissed off enough to actually cause a scene, but the only words that would come out were, “Oh god...” as  the lowering car windows presenting none other than Park Chanyeol.

Turning your body around completely, you shift the weight of your garbage bag towards the ground “How did you even know I lived here? What-”

“I may or may not have gotten your address from my manager.” His every present smile is fresh on his face as he leans over his seat for you to hear him more clearly.

“You almost gave me a heart attack! Why-”

“I thought you weren't coming since you hung up on me last night...”

“Well you’re not wrong.” Your lips press in a thin line to stop any form of emotion from showing on your face. This kid can smell a bluff.

“Wait...right there!” He shuffles around with his seatbelt and shuts the engine off, opening his door to jog towards you.

As he closes up, you look around careful of any cameras.

“You left your window down?” You nod over, but he’s already taken your garbage bag from your hands.

“Do you live in such an unsafe neighborhood?” he jokes walking past you towards the disposal. “It’s like 5 feet away, Y/n. Wait for me in the car.”

You blink back the audacity and disbelief of this whole situation ,his movements are always carefree and relax making you wonder if he even know the danger of being outside simply because he’s Park Chanyeol.

“...And you're not in the car.” He jokes when he walks back, “You said you were going to help me with a song today, y/n”

He puts a gently hand on the small of your back, leading you towards the passenger door. His other hand reaching to open the door. “Please?”

“Chanyeol...” You grab his arm with both of your hands, maybe he’ll fall for his own trick of puppy dog eyes.

“Y/n...” he mocks, leaning over to come closer to your face, obviously the true master of getting what he wants. “I’ll buy you food.”

Your tension melts with his present smile and offer of food; You shake your head in self disappointment as you take the seat being offered.

Before you have time to reject his offer again, he shuts your door and races to take the driver seat and start the car.

“Do you usually have to stalk girls to get them back to your place or...”

“It’s usually not this complicated,” he laughs and glances over at you, “So I’m guessing you didn't get my calls?”

“Yeah, I turn it off since I don't like the distraction”

“So I'm a distraction?” He teases, stoping at a red light.

“Currently? Yes. I had a lot of work and -”

“Yi, called all of the boys last night to go over names and specifications...” and there is the awkward silence that you always try to avoid. The light changes and he makes a turn. “It’s nothing like she called me to talk about anything personal....Honestly, a lot of people say that I flirt, but -”

“Chanyeol-”

“Y/n-”

“We’re not doing this” Your tone rises a bit, as you look over to see his face become devoid of emotions, “You don't need to explain your interaction with women. You know the conditions to my contract and I’m not going to break them.”

You could hear the tinkering going on in his head, “But that was waay before we even met, how-”

“You sleep with anyone you want, I don't get why you don't get the hint that I don't want that and -”

“Y/N-”

“- and if anything happened it’ll be my ass on the line, you can walk away scratch free, so just don't.”

The muffled noise outside is the only thing filling the void of tension and silence inside the car.

There’s no such thing as harmless flirting when it comes to these idols, one thing always leads to another and its not pretty for the normal person that has to put up with it their everyday lives after its over.

“Chan, listen-”

“I got it.” His hands tighten on the steering wheel, not able to stop his annoyance from covering is tone of voice.

“A-Alright”

.          .            .            .

You set your bag onto the back of his desk as you observe the beautiful mess that accompanies music producing.

Water bottles everywhere, papers half written on sprawled around a keyboard and mouse, while the screen contains a beautiful puzzle ready to be assembled.

“Let’s see what we’ve got to work with.”

True to word, Chanyeol ordered from a nearby chicken place and once you were finished eating you started reviewing his audio tracks one by one. Yes, he did playfully tease you when you put on your glasses and then again for putting you hair up after it kept getting in your space, but it’s full focus on his music.

“I’m thinking of one track just being a full on guitar solo.” he says renaming the track “g-solo”.

“You could place it in the beginning like an intro.” He nods at your suggestion renaming it again. You look over at your review papers and stare back up at the monitor. “What about track 3?”

“I have no idea” he groans, “It just doesn't right - all the other songs are working out fine, but this one-”

“Is a ballad” you clarify, “You’re voice isn't working-”

“Chen sang the demo for me and maybe it’s just not for me”

“What I was saying was” he rolls his eyes jokingly at your sassy commentary, “because you’re not complimenting your voice, you keep hiding it under the instruments.”

“So...”

“So..” you put your feet on the ground and drag your chair towards the desk, “let me find the harmony”

“My harmony?” His eyebrows come together frustrated as he plays the track again. After a couple of minutes of letting it play through you mind starts to work.

“The band should come after.”

“What?” You push his chair gently away from the center of the desk and replay the beginning of the track.

“Here, your voice plays for a bit before we get the other tracks in.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“Let me see,” you move in to grab the mouse and drag the playhead towards the area of conflict, while rearranging the instruments in the order you suggested. “This... here...”

You feel Chanyeol move closer towards your side, arm resting at the back of your chair, and his other hand stretching to point at his guitar audio track, “Can we turn the volume on that down?”

You follow his input, “We’re going to need to go back into the studio so you can add a second base, and - it’s better if I’m in the studio with you.”

“I can book the studio for Monday”

“Can you get the band booked for Monday?” You glance back at him quickly for his hesitance, “I mean we can book it another time when the bands’ free”

“Um..I play all the instruments myself.” Your eyebrows pull together and you turn your head to face him properly in disbelief.

“What? You recorded your voice and instruments..? How long does that even take you?” He nods and then shrugs.

“It’s tough.”

You want to scold him for not talking to you earlier - wait, no anyone else earlier. His life could be so much simpler if he asked for help in the first place. “It doesn't have to be that way, if you would've asked for help...”

“Yeah like that would turn out great...you didn't even want to come today.”

“Thats not the case”

“I had to basically drag you here myself”

“You could've asked someone else”

“I wanted you”

You turn around again to really let him have a piece of you mind, but realize how close you two actually were to one another.

His hand is still placed around the back of your chair, while his other arm is resting on the desk, basically trapping you to your chair. You turn in place towards him and rest a hand on his shoulder to grab his attention since he’s refusing to meet your eyes. “It is mot because I didn't want to help you, idiot. You keep flirting and -”

“You get scared of actually liking it?”

“I don't-”

“Can you just shut your pretty mouth for once?” He chides, “There are rumors of idols with staff, are some of them true - of course, but that doesn't mean everyones like that.” His eyes focus entirely on you now, “You know I’m not like that and you keep turning me down because of that.”

You fail to meet his gaze as you begin to recollect your morals. Chanyeol scoffs at your childish antic, reaching over to gently pull your face to him.

He doesn't say anything until your eyes connect, “You could fuck me physically and mentally right now If you wanted to, but you wont.”

A small gasp escapes you. Making you lower your eyes, in order to avert his stare, backfiring as they rest on his lips.

His tongue peaks out to lick his upper lip quickly before you see him mouth your name not letting his voice carry out. You try and look at his eyes so some sense can come through, but his attention wavers towards your own lips.

“You want me just as much as I want you” His head tilts to the side, hand climbing up to cup you cheek, his eyelids dropping to loose himself in you, “Permanently... not just for right now.” 

And thats exactly what you-

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP BEEEP BEEEEEEEEP

“CHANYEOLLLLL”

You both jump from the sound of the intercom static filling the room with Baekhyuns’ voice. “YAH! I forgot my keys and I don't want to be lectured so I'm crashing here tonight”

You feel a bucket of cold water being poured onto you as you jump up from your seat completely, hearing Chanyeol groan out an insult and disregard the door completely, “Y/n?”

“Yeah? I mean no-” You get up passing a hand through you hair and begin looking around for your bag.

“I’m going to commit murder today because of you.” Chanyeol with great calamity hand you your bag, only to hold you in place for what to you is too long. 

“Well it’s my cue to leave anyways.”

“I SEE YOUR CAR CHANYEOL. I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!”

“I’ll drop you off-”

“No, it’s fine” You feel your heart pushing towards another sprint and pull away from him trying to find a away out without being noticed. “Do you...do you have a back door?”

“But how are-” Chanyeol grabs you again so you stop fidgeting and focus on him. He centers you back close to him, ignoring his clearly annoyed best friend making a noise loud enough for the neighbors to be concerned, and passes his hand from the top of your head towards your cheek. “I can’t just let you go and -”

You’re fighting with yourself at this point. fighting to keep your heels on the ground and your lips untouched, he noticed your glance towards his lips. “I’ll call a friend” you barely let the sentence out, but you need to in order to assure him to let you go and assure yourself that you can leave alone - right now.

“YOU BETTER OPEN OR I’M CALLING THE POLICE!”

Chanyeol's eyebrows pull together in frustration, knowing fully well that he can’t win this argument without you getting mad at him and that’s not what he needs right now. He needs to turn back time to that good place you were in a minute ago, turn back time and duck-tape Baekhyun’s keys to his forehead.

“Go through the kitchen and theres a door, call me when you get home - Y/n I mean it.”

.            .            .            .

“Perfect timing” Chanyeol leaves the door open as he throws himself in his desk chair. 

He made sure to grab one of his hoodies for you before you walked out the back door. Every cell in his being was fighting the urge to go back out there and take you home himself, especially after seeing who your friend was.

“That’s what I’m known for...” Baekhyun says absentmindedly closing the front door, heading strait for the kitchen to start searching through the fridge, “You’re out of soda.” A bit more rummaging and Baekhyun efforts are paid off with a bucket of leftover chicken. “So how did you date go?”

“It wasn't a date.” Chanyeol rolls his eyes as his friend sits himself down and starts eating. “She made herself perfectly clear that she's not that type of girl and that this wasn't a date.”

“Are we going to keep pretending I don't know who ‘she’ is?”

“Yup,” Chanyeol turns to save of the changes on the tracks

“But isn't that why you like her?” Baekhyun swallows his food before he continues, “Because she's not that type of girl?”

Chanyeol shrugs, “Maybe I’m coming off too strong?”

“Really? I thought you were toning it down with the whole stalking thing,” Baekhyun jokes. “But honestly, Yeol... Do you really think, if this ever goes anywhere, that the company going to accept it and everyone will live happily ever after?”

“I don't know, but if she keeps thinking the worse and yo keep running moments-”

A piece of meat was caught in Baekhyun’s throat and he started coughing both from his meal and the news. “Wait, you guys had a moment?”

“Almost,” he sighs remembering the warmth emitted from you, when you gasped. It was like he finally got you and the last thing he wanted to do was send you off in someone else car. “...until we were rudely interrupted by this homeless guy that came to eat my food.”

“Listen” Baekhyun takes his time deboning the chicken, “I texted you a good 3 times before I came over - you had more than enough time to tell me to not come over and since you didn't...”

“Didn't you think my no-response meant I was too busy?”

“Yeahhhhh” Baekhyun laughs at his own thought and shrugs innocently, “I was kinda hoping you guys were having sex so I could use it after as blackmail.”

__________________________________________________

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[feynites]

I got more Banana Bachelor AU done! ^-^ Tagging @lycheemilkart, Serahlin of course belongs to @scurvgirl

When Magister Danarius turns up dead the day before Vena’s date with Ana, he honestly doesn’t think much about it. 

It’s kind of surprising, in that weird way that always seems to happen when a person you saw alive quite recently is suddenly no longer breathing. But Danarius seemed like the kind of guy who a lot of people would wish death on, and the news feed all reports his cause of death as a heart attack. The cumulative result of too much excess and decadence in life, or a little too much questionable blood magic, maybe.

 Vena spares a moment to muse that a lot of people’s wishes probably came true, and then moves on. Danarius wasn’t even a client, just a business associate of some of Sylaise’s family. There’s a little gossip about it. Mostly people speculating on who will replace him in the Magisterium or inherit his fortune, since he had no heirs to speak of.

 Vena knows the legalities and the social elements well enough to make an educated guess, which is that one of the other houses will claim Danarius’ seat - probably House Carius, they’ve been up-and-coming for a while and their matriarch has good PR - and his wealth will go to his Helvadus cousins. Not because they have the best claim, but because they have the best lawyers.

 It’s not really a big deal, though. And most of the gossip around the water coolers is actually focused on the bachelor auction, and the results of everyone’s dates. Who tried to bid on who, and who’s already gone on their dates, and who hasn’t. Tasallir makes some apologies to Serahlin and Vena but they both just counter by thanking him, and waving off his concern. He and Serahling reschedule their intended outing. Vena’s not completely sure, because she tends to play that kind of stuff close to the chest. But when the subject of her smitten jeweler comes up, Serahlin’s cheeks seem to get a little pinker.

 Vena just hopes he’s nice. Her last boyfriend was a real piece of work.

 Thenvunin goes on his date and regales everyone about it like it was the plot of some kind of romance novel. But not in the ‘oh it was so magical’ kind of a way, more in the ‘ah we’re at the stage where the prospective couple hates one another but can’t shut up about it’ way. A lot of people wonder about the mystery woman who out-bid one of the boss’ brothers for the other. That makes Vena popular because, of course, she bid on him too, and he sat at their table for a significant portion of the evening.

 But he doesn’t really have a lot of answers. And most people seem more taken with making pointedly-not-pointed speculations about Falon’Din. Mainly, whether or not they’re going to have to deal with him as a client again soon, because the man is notorious for pitching fits whenever things don’t go his way.

 And that usually means property damage. Or assault.

 Vena just hopes that whoever ends up having to deal with him remembers to wear a knife-proof vest. He still gets twinges in his left shoulder sometimes.

 His own date seems to just inch closer, taking longer than he might have guessed it would. He finds his thoughts drifting towards Ana, ‘Dalish Ana’, and her freckles and red hair. He googles her, because of course he does. But he doesn’t get a lot of results. There’s an etsy shop that sells foraged crafts and bath products and stuff, but he’s not even sure if it’s the same person. There aren’t any photos of her. No instagram or twitter that he can find, either, but then it’s not like he has comprehensive information or anything.

 He tries her friend, Selene, but there’s even less stuff to be found there.

 In the days leading up their date, Vena considers texting her or calling her. Wondering about the protocols on that. Everything’s set up and they seem to have exchanged all the info they need. But, he’s never really been one for the ‘wait to call’ rule.

 He needs an opener, though.

 Two days after their first meeting, he just goes for it.

 What do you get when you drop a piano down a mine shaft? He texts.

 There’s a brief delay.

 A flat minor? she sends back, to his absolute delight.

 Yes!!! Excellent!

 A happy face follows.

 I have been trying to think of a better name for your in my contacts, he admits.

 Oh? she replies. Are you fishing for my last name?

 No, he assures her. I never use last names. I like nicknames.

 Some people call me Red, she tells him.

 Do you like it?

 She sends him a shrug. Hmm. Not a solid positive, then.

 Clearly you need something more fun and breezy, he decides. Ana-panda? Mana-fana? Ana-fana-bo-bana?

 He peppers his suggestions with a few thoughtful-face emojis. Ana sends him back a skeptical one, but it feels like it has good energy. Fun skeptical, somehow.

 Banana? she tosses in.

 Vena’s grin widens.

 Well if you insist!

 He means it as a joke, reflexively. But it’s… kind of cute. As they carry on exchanging quips and texts, it sticks in his head. By the time they manage to say goodbye, he’s successfully found a very cute-looking banana picture. It even has freckles. He changes Ana’s contact details in his phone from ‘Dalish Ana’ to ‘Ana-Banana’, and tosses on the image.

 Perfect.

 Vena looks up from his phone just in time to walk smack into his own office door.

 …Alright, maybe he shouldn’t text her while he’s walking. Thenvunin from Reception lets out a snort of surprised amusement. Through the glass window of his office, Tasallir gives Vena is very best, patented ‘how did this moron graduate from law school’ look. Vena clears his throat, and tries to play it off as he opens his door.

 “Are you alright, Vena?” Serahlin asks, as she passes through the hall.

 “Fine!” he assures her. “Just distracted. Who closed my door?”

 She blinks at him.

 “You did.”

 Vena fires off a finger gun at her.

 “Right,” he replies. “Yup. That was… I remember now. Great, thanks Serahlin. Are you still handling the Howe case?”

 “Oh, yes. My client is going to get full custody and one hell of a settlement from her husband. I hope Rendon Howe enjoys sleeping on park benches,” she says, and the deflection works pretty well. Vena had heard as much, and Serahlin always takes a special satisfaction in stringing up adulterers and draining them for every last penny. With another finger gun Vena backs into his office, dignity somewhat salvaged.

 “Brilliant, I’m glad to hear hit,” he says.

 His phone chimes again, and he lifts it up, grinning. But it’s just his work e-mail alert going off. With a sigh, he pockets his phone again, and gets his head back in the work game.

 …Banana, though.

 That’s so cute.

  ~

  When the date finally rolls around, Vena is entirely ready for it.

 He wears his favourite tasteful blue swim shorts, underneath a pair of his nicer cargo shorts. A light jacket, just in case the sea winds get cold, and a loose, faded t-shirt with ‘100% Boyfriend Material’ written on it in faded lettering. Tasallir sees him on his way out, and gives him an unimpressed once-over.

 “You are an idiot,” he says.

 Vena winks.

 “Don’t stay up worrying, honey,” he counters, with a pat to his roommate slash coworker slash arch enemy’s arm.

 “Take your rape whistle,” Tasallir instructs, sniffing disdainfully at that remark. He reaches up to straighten out his sleeve. Which isn’t even really wrinkled at all, but it probably is by Tasallir Standards.

 Vena snorts, and backs his way down the hall.

 “Taz, she’s like two feet tall and sweet as a button, I think I’ll be fine.”

 “That is the kind of stereotyping that ends with people being murdered on beaches,” Tasallir informs him. “She could have cohorts. Or a weapon. Make sure you keep emergency services on speed dial, it is first date protocol.”

 “This is worrying, by the way, this is exactly what I’m telling you not to do,” Vena points out, jogging backwards to the elevator.

 “Look where you are going, you idiot,” Tasallir counters.

 “Love you bunches!” Vena jokes, before blowing a kiss, and then finally turning around to hit the call button. The elevator doors open straight away, and he happily makes his way down to the lobby. Carefully balancing a bag full of beach supplies, and double-checking his phone and wallet in his pockets. He fishes his favourite pair of sunglasses out of the bag’s pocket, and slides them on as he nods to the doorman and makes his way out to the street and down towards the parking garage.

 He’d offered to pick up Ana, but she assured him she had a ride. Probably smart, Vena will concede - joking aside it really is their first date, and if she came with him then she’d have to go back with him, even if she didn’t want to.

 Of course, Vena has zero intention of making her not want to. He’s almost forgotten that this date is a result of a weird bachelor auction bidding type situation. They’ve texted one another a few times now. Mainly just corny jokes and puns, but he’s not complaining. Even so, it’s not like Ana knows a lot about him. What if he was a mass murderer or something? That would suck.

 So he gets his car alone, and turns up the radio. Listening to one of the local stations as he devotes the first thirty minutes of his commute to just getting out of the city traffic, before finally hitting less cluttered roads, and driving his way out of Arlathan.

 It always feels so good to do that.

 The beach isn’t exactly quiet, but it’s not being mobbed either. Vena finds a parking spot and then has to walk a fair bit to reach the meeting point. He runs a bit behind, luck of the commute, but when he gets to the little beach side grill he immediately spots his date waiting for him at the front.

 Ana’s wearing a red bikini top with a sunflower pin on it, and a loose green jacket that makes her eyes pop. There’s a dark lipstick on her mouth, and a leaf-shaped charm necklace held by soft cord around her neck. Her freckles are all on full display - well, as much as they could be without that nude beach situation they’d tossed around - and her hair nearly looks blonde in the bright sunlight.

 At least until she turns her head, and the red hits him when she moves. She beams when she sees him.

 “Hey, Bachelor Number Nine,” she quips, bouncing a bit on the balls of her feet.

 Vena grins and does a mock stroll down an invisible runway, turning at the end when he gets to her. He feels light and playful, even if his heart is beating decidedly faster. He loves this feeling, he thinks. The cusp of something good and new, maybe even amazing. But still tentative, too. It’s a lot like the feeling he gets when he drives out of the city.

 “Hey Ana-bo-bana,” he replies. The pockets of her jacket look full, he notes. Something like a leafy twig seems to be poking out of one of the bottom ones, and she’s got a flower in her hands that she’s fiddling with. As he draws level with her, she grins and reaches up to slip it over one of his ears.

 “This grill smells good, and the beach is pretty,” she tells him. “What’s first on the itinerary?”

 Vena moves the flower a little more securely behind his ear, and offers her his arm.

 “Lunch, if you like?” he suggests.

 Ana takes his elbow.

 “Oh, good. I was hoping you’d say that,” she agrees. “Work was absolutely killer this morning, and I’m famished.”

 She grins. Vena’s not entirely sure he’s caught the joke, but after a moment, he decides it’s not the end of the world.

 He grins back.

[emunenen]

Makao Bora

New Post has been published on https://wp.me/paK8na-42v

Area Code - Harambee Estate, Nairobi

Steve has lived in Nairobi’s Harambee Estate for the last six years. It is a second home to him, a place where he has set up a life and brought up his young family.

When he relocated here, he was attracted by two major things; the open spaces where his children could play, and the easy availability of good schools in the neighbourhood.

For him, therefore, the three-bedroom bungalow that the city government put up for sale was a great investment, as it would not only make him a property owner in the capital, but also afford him the chance to bring up his children in a safe and fairly serene environment.

“The prices were also affordable,” he says, “and, like every home buyer, the amenities they put on the table hooked me quite easily. The houses came with safe car parks, a playground and close proximity to educational and social establishments.”

That was how the 600 units that make Harambee Estate were snapped within weeks of being put up for sale. Families then settled in to the cosy life they had invested in, proud to have successfully pitched for one of the biggest investments in life anywhere in the world.

CONCRETE JUNGLE

But now there is a problem; the estate they once loved is no more. The bungalows, now aging, are jostling for space with tens of flats that are springing up all over the place. The open spaces are gone, the serenity vanquished. A concrete jungle is devouring Steve’s neighbourhood.

“It was one of the few city council estates that retained their lustre over they years,” he says, the words peppered with heavy nostalgia. “People used to praise it because of its cleanliness and order, the fresh air about it and the smooth roads. Now that’s gone.”

Today, Steve says, the estate has fallen from its former glory. It has been run down, and all that is left of the once controlled development are flowing sewers and a shantytown of kiosks. Piped water only flows to their houses once a week, and even then the supply is never enough.

Meanwhile, the flats keep tearing into the sky, their owners unperturbed by the fact that the place was never planned to accommodate such a high density of buildings and people.

Harambee Estate, however, is not alone in this filthy, disruptive pit of lost glory. Five years ago, Paul Oyier and his wife chose to settle at Ngei Phase II. To them, the neighbourhood in Lang’ata was a perfect description of what they wanted: calmness, serenity, close proximity to the CBD, easy accessibility, and good security.

“We fell in love with the place from the first day we were taken round the estate,” recalls Oyier. “My wife and I particularly loved the serenity.”

CHOKING HUMAN TRAFFIC

But as they settled in, rogue developers were also eyeing the very serenity that had attracted the Oyiers to Ngei II. Little by little, block by block, the developers chipped away on the calm and peace of the place, turning it, like Steve’s Harambee, into a frenzied neighbourhood full of petty crime and choking with human traffic.

“The estate was built by the National Housing Corporation almost 40 years ago and there was a requirement that the public land would not be touched,” explains Oyier. Unfortunately, that promise was never kept.

“These developers are putting up highrise structures that are up to six floors high, ending up blocking natural light from getting to our houses,” says Steve. “To top it all, we can no longer enjoy the privacy that attracted us here in the first place, and the flats have affected the market value of our houses.”

Steve and Oyier are just two of a growing Kenyan population that has been let down by the authorities in the matter of the management of their neighbourhoods, whether in Kileleshwa or Nyali or Ngei or Lang’ata or Riat or Milimani.

Their heartbreaking experiences represent just a fraction of the cases reported to the Kenya Alliance of Resident Associations (Kara).

GRABBED LAND

Next to Oyier’s neighbourhood is Ngei Phase I, where the residents are complaining that several pieces of land within the estate, initially meant for public use, have been grabbed.

“These public utilities were part of the purchase price paid by every (home owner here… and were) offered as part of the transaction,” their complaint letter, reads.

In the meantime, in Embakasi’s Fedha Estate, the residents’ associations are contesting the grabbing of a piece of land initially designated as communal area and children’s playground.

“Fera (the local residents association) is extremely concerned with the developments, where the piece of land has now been sub-divided, ready for allocation,” reads a complaint filed to Kara. This land was the only recreational area within the estate, which has more than 350 houses.

Across the city in Lavington, residents of Chalbi Drive have also been up in arms against the construction of flats on a seven-acre wetland in the area that was sold to a private developer. The wetland has been the subject of a simmering controversy that has refused to die down for years now.

And that illustrates how alone many residents are in the fight to save their neighbourhoods. Despite all these complaints, and many more others, none of the cases we have quoted here have been resolved to date.

LAND COMMISSION

  Meanwhile, Kara deputy chairman Henry Ochieng’ says has forwarded the complaints to the National Land Commission for action.

Steve’s Harambee Estate has been trying to resolve the matter of flats springing up all over and fouling the environment for the last five years, but despite numerous promises that the issue will be solved, the estate still faces an uncertain future.

“Heavy trucks hauling building materials have ruined our roads, our children have now resorted to playing on the roads because their playgrounds are no more, and the level insecurity has shot up 100 per cent,” says Steve.

This, Mr Ochieng’ of Kara says, is the result of corruption in the corridors of city planning as “unscrupulous developers are colluding with officers in government to get fake approvals to develop structures on the open spaces”.

“At times when we follow up these cases, we find that the developers have the necessary approvals from the Government,” says Ochieng’.

Yet when planners indicate that neighbourhoods should have open spaces for recreation, they expect that those spaces will remain that way. An open space — or public land — is defined as any place which is publicly owned or of public use, accessible and enjoyable by all for free and without a profit motive.

LEGAL PROCESS

Although the Constitution does not expressly talk about open spaces, under Article 62 1 (d), it defines public land as land in respect of which no individual or community ownership can be established by any legal process. It further states in sub-section (m) that it is any land that has not been classified as private or community land under the Constitution.

“Public land shall vest in and be held by a county government in trust for the people resident in the county, and shall be administered on their behalf by the National Land Commission,” reads the constitution’s Article 62 (2) in part.

The Building Code, on the other hand, states that a residential building should have space immediately in front of it which extends the whole width of the building and not less than 20ft wide from the next building. It also should have access to a street or road.

“A building designed for residential purposes shall have an open space on one side with a width of 8 feet or more measured from the boundary of the nearest plot. The width should extend the entire length and height of the building,” it says.

Such spacing requirements are necessary not only for safety, but also for domestic uses as they act as open spaces for residents.

But like Oyier notes, the residents whose land has been encroached on are no longer sure of their security or sanitation. “It seems we are the ones who now have to adjust to living in an environment that is not only insecure but also suffering from the constant whiff of burst sewers,” he says.

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[your-anxious-nightmare]

Adventures In Dad-ing (17/?)

Summary: ooh boy I and so sorry for this chapter lol some shiz goes down for sure.

Word Count: 2023

Relationships: prinxiety, familial moxiety.

Previous Chapters: I cannot link on my ipad... this is going to be a problem I also apologise for the long post I can’t get the read more to work

(because I know this has problems, look up the tag ‘adventures in dating’ or ‘dad Virgil’ on my blog archive and you’ll find all of them)

Tags: @katatles-the-fish @karma-the-tax-collector @analogical-mess @rebeyerfdog @msu82

(ask to be tagged xoxoxo)

Warnings: blood, abuse, there’s also an accident and logie gets hurt.

Ao3

Happiness is a fickle thing. It ebbs and flows like the ocean and can be disrupted as easily as snapping a twig. It brings highs like Everest and lows like trenches and no matter how hard you try asking for help can feel like running a marathon in jandals made of broken glass.

At only 10 years old, Logan Foley knew that better than anyone.

“Boy! Make me a coffee, would ya?” A gravelly voice calls from down the hall, shocking the boy out of his thoughts. Logan stands quickly, shuffling out of his room and towards the kitchen. His room is no more than the cupboard under the stairs, and though Logan loves Harry Potter, it’s dark and dusty and full of spiders and just not comfortable at all.

He readies the drink quickly, pulling ingredients from the cupboards with a speed he’d perfected over years and pouring the water carefully with shaky hands. The walk to the living room is tricky, there’s trash over the floor and his step-father's shoes blocking the door but he makes it just as the man turns to call for him again.

“Took ya long enough. Clean this shit up while you're here.” George Harvey, captain of the Alexandra Police Department, continues to watch the tv screen as Logan picks up the mass of plates and cups on the table. This is a frequent event, so he stacks them up with ease, ducking around the man's view as he goes.

George takes the smallest of sips from his mug, screwing his face up and spitting towards Logan as he goes to leave.

“What the fuck is this? When I say to make me a coffee I don’t mean make a hot mug of fucking milk.” He jolts forwards, splashing the hot drink onto Logan’s arms and chest, causing him to jump and drop the plates.

“God, you’re a waste of space. Look what you’ve done now!” Logan drops to his knees immediately ignoring the searing pain on his arms and scooping up the shattered porcelain plates as his stepfather continues to scream at him. A sharp piece slices through his hand, and he winces loudly, receiving a swift kick to the back.

“Don’t you be talking back to me boy, I put a roof over your head and this is how you treat me? Get the fuck out of my sight before I make you really hurt!” Logan nods quickly, ignoring the blood and tears that fall onto his already dirty clothes and he picks up the pile and escapes towards the kitchen. Small shards stab his feet as he walks across the carpet, slicing the tender skin with every movement,

“I sad fuck off!” George roars, swinging his fist at the back of Logan’s head, hitting him just behind his right ear and sending himself flying into the wall, the plates once again falling from his arms and breaking more over his already burning skin.

Logan screams as the burns are agitated by the glass, his head aching with the force of being thrown against the wall. He scrambles to his feet, ignoring the blood and glass across the ground and sprinting out the door.

He doesn’t know what happens next. He sees a blur of colour, trees and fences and tears and pavement. He hears the screech of tires, feels his body spasm in shock and pain, and then nothing. No pain. No fear. Nothing.

***

It’s 6pm and the smell of pizza fills Roman’s car as he climbs in. He had been sent out on a reconnaissance mission to acquire pizza, ice cream and meringues for dinner and dessert and was finally heading back to his favourite boys. The pizza had taken a while, it’s Friday night and the store was staffed by only two overworked teenagers and an M.I.A manager.

Patton was heading back to his mums the next day and Virgil wanted to give him a great dinner for his last night, so the two had decided that Hawaiian pizza and goodie gumdrops ice cream would be ideal.

Roman pulls onto their street, humming along to whatever pop song was playing (he couldn’t tell you the name but he was sure it was by Taylor Swift) when a glimpse of light catches his eye. A figure bursts out of a house on his left and takes off down the street, leaving a man in the doorway with a bright red face. Roman slows down a little as he continues, watching the person snake their way across the footpath, clearly not 100% sure of where they’re going.

Roman pulls the car over beside them, ready to jump out and ask what’s wrong when they dart across the road. Time seems to slow as Roman realises two things.

One - the figure is none other than Logan, Patton’s best friend and Virgil’s all but legally adopted second son.

Two - there’s a set of headlights across the street,

And they don’t stop,

And neither does Logan.

Roman swings his door open as the car hits the boy, sending him flying up onto the bonnet before the driver slams on the brakes, the boy rolling back down to the dark tar seal road.

Roman isn’t sure if the scream he hears comes from his mouth, it within seconds he’s on his knees next to the boy with his phone to his ear and his fingers shakily feeling for a pulse.

“I need an ambulance to 85 Cresent Terrace, a young boy has been hit by a car. He has a weak pulse and shallow breathing and there’s a lot of blood and I’m not sure where it’s coming from.” He stammers out, hands shaking over the boy as he watches him struggle to breathe. The driver jumps out of their car, skin pale and clammy but a first aid kit in their hands.

Together, the two strangers cover the boy in the emergency shock blanket and place Roman’s jacket under his head, careful not to move his neck too much in fear of damaging him in some other way.

A door opens in the distance, and light spills out across the street. Roman looks up and can’t help but cry out weakly as he sees Virgil jog across his yard in only a singlet and his pyjama pants.

“I heard a yell, what’s going on?” He asks before he locks eyes with Roman, whose hands are covered in blood and cheeks shiny with tears. His eyes fall onto the stranger, who now looks paler than Virgil himself, shaking and cradling themselves as they kneel next to a third person.

“Logan?” Virgil gasps, stepping closer slowly before freezing at the edge of the road. “Oh my gosh.”

“It’s gonna be alright Virge. The ambulance is two minutes out, he’s gonna be okay.” Virgil nods slowly, looking up as a set of flashing red lights appears at the end of the street.

“I’ll get some things from inside, I’ll be one minute tops. Yell if you need me sooner.” Virgil turns and sprints back to the house, disappearing out of sight and leaving Roman alone with the unconscious boy and unresponsive stranger.

“Hey. I’m Roman, I know this kid, and it’s not your fault this happened. Go sit on the curb and calm down. Virgil, the man that just left, he��s my partner, he’ll get you a blanket and water but you need to step away and calm down first okay.” The person doesn’t speak, simply nodding and walking over to sit in front of Virgil’s house.

The ambulance parks up and two paramedics run over, taking over from Roman and assessing Logan before pushing him away as a pair of police walk over.

Roman stands next to the stranger, who’s now acquired a soft blue blanket and a plastic cup of water, both explaining what happened from either view. Virgil appears and disappears between the house and the scene, helping the paramedics with Logan’s medical history (as much as he knows of it) and keeping Patton away from the windows.

“Sir, you’re free to go, someone will be in contact in the next few days if we need anything else.” The officers dismiss Roman, helping the stranger into the back of their cruiser to take them home after parking their car safely to the side of the road.

“We need an adult in the vehicle to take him to the hospital.” A paramedic pipes up as Virgil appears again, giving the stranger one more sandwich and taking back the blanket.

“You go. I’ll get Patton and meet you there in my car.” Roman orders, already taking the blanket and walking towards the house. Virgil just nods, climbing in next to the boy and waving as the doors close.

The next two hours are a blur. Roman gets himself and Patton dressed, finds a change of clothes for Logan and Virgil, puts the pizza into the fridge and piles back into his car, all while deflecting Patton’s questions as much as possible.

He remembers sitting in the waiting room, texting Virgil and weakly explaining what happened to Patton. He remembers the doctors telling him Logan needs surgery, then almost not letting him and Virgil sign for it because they aren’t his legal caregivers, Patton crying because he can’t see his friend. It’s a mess of time that doesn’t make sense and Roman only finally gets to breathe when the three are sat in the ICU next to a broken boy with a tube down his throat and more wires in his arms than fingers on his hands.

“Logan’s gonna wake up right?” Patton cries, cradled in his dad's arms as he looks over his friend, bruises and cuts littering his dark skin.

“Of course baby, he’s strong. He’ll be alright.” Virgil isn’t sure whether he’s saying it to convince Patton or himself, but the only thing keeping him in one piece is Roman’s hand on his knee.

They sit for hours, doctors and nurses coming in and out of the room every 10 minutes, every time asking if they know the contact for his parents. Every time they ask, Virgil says no, explains that it’s best they not be called, and says he’s as close to a parent as they get. Of course, that doesn’t fly and they do eventually call his birth mother but as expected she's brash and careless and rude and doesn’t turn up at all.

The next morning, Patton is curled up on a spare cot across the room, Roman sitting next to the bed with a book in his hands and Virgil leaning against his shoulder with a blanket tucked beneath his chin. Virgil's phone begins to chime loudly and the man jolts up, answering it groggily and rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry, we’re at the hospital.” He pauses as the person answers. “No, he’s fine. I’m really sorry. Look can you come to get him here? We can’t leave and I have no way to get him- No I understand that that’s no- if you’d just- Meghann!” He pulls the phone away from his ear and slams it down on the table, standing up to pace the room.

“Virge?” Roman asks quietly, noting that the phone was slammed back down and thankfully isn’t cracked.

“Meghann was meant to pick Patton up ten minutes ago but we’re here and she’s there and she said she’s calling the cops. But surely she can’t do that, he’s here because his friend is in the hospital and she can’t make him leave right?”

“I’m not sure Virgil, I don't know where the law lies with this.” Roman goes to calm him down when a machine starts to beep loudly, two doctors rushing in and tending to the injured child. The family are ushered back to the waiting room, Patton waking due to the commotion and confusedly wandering off with his dad's shirt grasped tightly in his fist.

“Pa? What’s happening?” Virgil shakes his head sitting down with his head in his hands.

“I don’t know Patty-Cake, I really don’t know.”

[newstfionline]

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

Lockdown named word of the year by Collins Dictionary (Guardian) Lockdown, the noun that has come to define so many lives across the world in 2020, has been named word of the year by Collins Dictionary. Lockdown is defined by Collins as “the imposition of stringent restrictions on travel, social interaction, and access to public spaces”, and its usage has boomed over the last year. The 4.5bn-word Collins Corpus, which contains written material from websites, books and newspapers, as well as spoken material from radio, television and conversations, registered a 6,000% increase in its usage. In 2019, there were 4,000 recorded instances of lockdown being used. In 2020, this had soared to more than a quarter of a million. “Language is a reflection of the world around us and 2020 has been dominated by the global pandemic,” says Collins language content consultant Helen Newstead. “We have chosen lockdown as our word of the year because it encapsulates the shared experience of billions of people who have had to restrict their daily lives in order to contain the virus. Lockdown has affected the way we work, study, shop, and socialise. With many countries entering a second lockdown, it is not a word of the year to celebrate but it is, perhaps, one that sums up the year for most of the world.” Other pandemic-related words such as coronavirus, social distancing, self-isolate and furlough were on the dictionary’s list of the top 10 words.

Republicans Back Trump’s Refusal to Concede, Declining to Recognize Biden (NYT) Leading Republicans rallied on Monday around President Trump’s refusal to concede the election, declining to challenge the false narrative that it was stolen from him or to recognize President-elect Joseph R. Biden Jr.’s victory. Senator Mitch McConnell of Kentucky, the top Republican in Congress, threw his support behind Mr. Trump in a sharply worded speech on the Senate floor. He declared that Mr. Trump was “100 percent within his rights” to turn to the legal system to challenge the outcome and hammered Democrats for expecting the president to concede. And in Washington, Emily W. Murphy, a Trump political appointee and administrator of the General Services Administration, refused to formally recognize Mr. Biden as the president-elect with a letter of “ascertainment,” leaving the country’s transition of power in flux.

White House, escalating tensions, orders agencies to rebuff Biden transition team (Washington Post) The Trump White House on Monday instructed senior government leaders to block cooperation with President-elect Joe Biden’s transition team, escalating a standoff that threatens to impede the transfer of power and prompting the Biden team to consider legal action. Officials at agencies across the government who had prepared briefing books and carved out office space for the incoming Biden team to use as soon as this week were told instead that the transition would not be recognized until the Democrat’s election was confirmed by the General Services Administration, the low-profile agency that officially starts the transition. While media outlets on Saturday projected Biden as the winner, President Trump has not conceded the election. “We have been told: Ignore the media, wait for it to be official from the government,” said a senior administration official, who like others spoke on the condition of anonymity because the person was not authorized to speak publicly. The GSA, the government’s real estate arm, remained for a third day the proxy in the battle. Administrator Emily Murphy, a Trump political appointee, is refusing to sign paperwork that releases Biden’s $6.3 million share of nearly $10 million in transition resources and gives his team access to agency officials and information. The Biden transition team is evaluating its legal options and growing increasingly alarmed that the stalemate could drag on and impede its work.

Candidate concessions have been colorful, funny—or absent (AP) Losing presidential candidates have conceded to their opponents in private chats, telegrams, phone calls and nationally televised speeches. Al Gore conceded twice in the same race. President Donald Trump isn’t expected to concede at all—not even with a tweet. Most concessions are gracious—less about the loser and more about closure for the country. Others have a little dry humor mixed in. After failing to win reelection in 1992, George H. W. Bush quoted Winston Churchill and said he had been given the “Order of the Boot,” according to presidential historian Michael Beschloss. The concession tradition had a hiccup in 2000 when Gore called George W. Bush to concede and then called him back to recant as the results from Florida went sideways. Their tight campaign ended with the Florida vote in limbo. “Let me make sure I understand,” Bush told Gore on the phone. “You’re calling me back to retract your concession?” When Bush was declared the winner after the Supreme Court halted further recount action, Gore delivered his second concession. “Just moments ago I spoke with George W. Bush and congratulated him on becoming the 43rd president of the United States. And I promised him that I wouldn’t call him back this time,” Gore said. After Gerald Ford and Bob Dole lost the 1976 presidential election to Carter and Walter Mondale, Dole, quipped: “Contrary to reports that I took the loss badly, I want to say that I went home last night and slept like a baby—every two hours I woke up and cried.”

Trump’s Fury Feeds Moscow and Beijing Accounts of U.S. Chaos (NYT) For years, state propaganda in both Russia and China has painted Western democracy as dangerously chaotic compared to what it described as the safety and stability of the countries’ authoritarian systems. With President Trump’s unfounded allegations that Democrats stole last week’s presidential election, Moscow and Beijing got a fresh chance to claim vindication. Russia seized that chance, while China was more restrained, perhaps reflecting cautious optimism that a President-elect Joseph R. Biden could stabilize relations with the United States. Neither country, however, congratulated Mr. Biden for winning the election. A spokesman for President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia couched the delay as a technical matter of diplomatic protocol, and pledged that Mr. Putin would be ready to work with “any elected president of the United States.” On the flagship weekly news program on state TV Sunday night, host Dmitri Kiselyov said the election showed the United States to be “not a country but a huge, chaotic communal apartment, with a criminal flair.” For China, state media’s response to Mr. Biden’s win has been more measured. Mr. Biden would be “more moderate and mature” than Mr. Trump on foreign affairs, Global Times, a fiercely nationalistic tabloid, said. Other Chinese outlets emphasized the potential for political violence in the United States all last week as the vote counts trickled in. The Chinese state media shared photos of boarded-up businesses and police officers on watch at poll sites. A narrative of American decline has been a constant refrain in recent months, as an increasingly wealthy and confident China has tried to market itself to the rest of the world as a viable alternative for global leadership.

Florida cities mop up after deluge from Tropical Storm Eta (AP) Cities in South Florida mopped up after Tropical Storm Eta flooded some urban areas with a deluge that swamped entire neighborhoods and filled some homes with rising water that did not drain for hours. It was the 28th named storm in a busy hurricane season, and the first to make landfall in Florida. Broward County, which includes Fort Lauderdale, was among the harder hit areas. “It’s very bad. In the last 20 years, I’ve never seen anything like that,” said Tito Carvalho, who owns a car stereo business in Fort Lauderdale and estimated the water was 3 feet deep in some places.

Vizcarra impeached in Peru (Foreign Policy) Peruvian President Martín Vizcarra is to leave office after the country’s congress successfully impeached him on charges of corruption. Vizcarra was accused of accepting bribes for public works contracts during his time as a governor. Although he denies the allegations, he said on Monday that he would “leave the presidential palace today.�� Manuel Merino, the head of the minority party Popular Action, will assume the presidency until a new one is chosen in April 2021.

Landmines cleared from Falkland Islands 38 years after conflict (Reuters) The final landmines on the Falkland Islands in the South Atlantic have been cleared, Britain said on Tuesday, nearly 40 years after they were laid by Argentine forces when they seized the British territory. The removal of the mines meant the United Kingdom had met its obligations set by the Anti-Personnel Mine Ban Convention, Britain’s Foreign Office (FCDO) said, adding that there were now no anti-personnel mines on British soil anywhere in the world. Argentina invaded the archipelago, to which it lays claim, in 1982. Britain sent a task force to retake the islands in a brief war which saw more than 600 Argentine and 255 British servicemen killed. A British-funded programme, which started in 2009, to de-mine the islands completed its mission three years ahead of schedule.

As virus spikes, Europe runs low on ICU beds, hospital staff (AP) In Italy lines of ambulances park outside hospitals awaiting beds, and in France the government coronavirus tracking app prominently displays the intensive care capacity taken up by COVID-19 patients: 92.5% and rising. In the ICU in Barcelona, there is no end in sight for the doctors and nurses who endured this once already. Intensive care is the last line of defense for severely ill coronavirus patients and Europe is running out—of beds and the doctors and nurses to staff them. In country after country, the intensive care burden of COVID-19 patients is nearing and sometimes surpassing levels seen at last spring’s peak. Health officials, many advocating a return to stricter lockdowns, warn that adding beds will do no good because there aren’t enough doctors and nurses trained to staff them. In France, more than 7,000 health care workers have undergone training since last spring in intensive care techniques. Nursing students, interns, paramedics, all have been drafted, according to Health Minister Olivier Veran.

Greece: Floods sweep cars into sea, send people to rooftops (Washington Post) Heavy flooding on the Greek island of Crete damaged roads, flooded hundreds of homes and swept cars into the sea amid ongoing torrential rainfall. Authorities Tuesday said the most serious damage occurred east of the island’s capital, Iraklio, in small towns and villages where schools were closed and residents were advised to stay indoors. In the worst-affected areas, some residents sought refuge on the roofs of their homes as muddy water swept through towns, dragging cars and debris. A state of emergency was declared in flooded areas. It was the third time in less than a month that the area has been hit by flooding. Heavy rainfall is expected to continue through Thursday.

China gears up for world’s largest online shopping festival (AP) Chinese consumers are expected to spend tens of billions on everything from fresh food to luxury goods during this year’s Singles’ Day online shopping festival, as the country recovers from the pandemic. The shopping festival, which is the world’s largest and falls on Nov. 11 every year, is an annual extravaganza where China’s e-commerce companies, including Alibaba, JD.com and Pinduoduo, offer generous discounts on their platforms. Last year, shoppers spent $38.4 billion on Alibaba’s e-commerce platforms Tmall and Taobao.

Erekat, longtime spokesman for the Palestinians, dies at 65 (AP) Saeb Erekat, a veteran peace negotiator and prominent international spokesman for the Palestinians for more than three decades, died on Tuesday, weeks after being infected by the coronavirus. He was 65. The American-educated Erekat was involved in nearly every round of peace negotiations between Israel and the Palestinians going back to the landmark Madrid conference in 1991. Over the years, he was a constant media presence. He tirelessly argued for a negotiated two-state solution to the decades-old conflict, defended the Palestinian leadership and blamed Israel—particularly hard-line leader Benjamin Netanyahu—for the failure to reach an agreement. As a loyal aide to Palestinian leaders—first Yasser Arafat and then Mahmoud Abbas—Erekat clung to this strategy until his death, even as hopes for Palestinian statehood sank to new lows. In the weeks leading up to his death in an Israeli hospital, the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain had normalized ties with Israel, breaking with the long-held Arab position that a deal on Palestinian statehood must precede normalization. Abbas and members of his inner circle, including Erekat, found themselves internationally sidelined and deeply unpopular among Palestinians. And decades of unfettered Israeli settlement expansion had made a statehood deal based on the partition of territory increasingly unlikely.

Concern of outright war in Ethiopia grows as PM presses military offensive (Reuters) Ethiopia’s prime minister stepped up a military offensive in the northern region of Tigray on Sunday with air strikes as part of what he called a “law enforcement operation,” increasing fears of outright civil war in Africa’s second-most populous country. Abiy last week launched a military campaign in the province, saying forces loyal to leaders there had attacked a military base and attempted to steal equipment. Government fighter jets have since been bombing targets in the region, which borders Sudan and Eritrea. Aid workers on Sunday reported heavy fighting in several parts of the region.

[walterfrodriguez]

Could Bob Zangrillo’s legal troubles imperil Magic City?

(Illustration by Pablo Lobato)

Bob Zangrillo walked out of federal court on a rainy day in Boston in late March 2019 wearing a black heavy coat, a charcoal suit and a blue tie. His face was drawn, forehead furrowed.

The gloomy scene was a far cry from Zangrillo’s carefree days as a playboy in Los Angeles just a few years ago, when he roamed shirtless at Burning Man-themed birthday parties and hosted Coachella after-parties attended by hordes of models and so-called influencers. Zangrillo claims to have made a fortune investing in companies like Facebook and Uber, and had presented himself as the youthful Silicon Valley investor and a Gatsby-esque figure in an Instagram age. And he’s a major stakeholder in Miami’s sprawling Magic City project.

But if the 52-year old looked sober and sullen walking out of court a year ago, he had every reason to be. As part of the sprawling federal investigation nicknamed Operation Varsity Blues, which led to charges against celebrities like Felicity Huffman and Lori Loughlin, Zangrillo had just been charged with mail fraud. He pleaded not guilty.

And while the Norwalk, Connecticut, native faces jail time over the college admission scandal, the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) is also after him, bringing civil charges in January. The FTC alleges Zangrillo chaired a company that ran scam websites set up to look like government agency portals. Zangrillo pleaded not guilty, with his lawyers arguing that he was just a passive investor.

When investors get themselves into the kind of legal trouble that ends up in a chyron on cable news, the developers on projects they’ve funded often quickly distance themselves out of fear that the project will struggle to score financing. It is unclear how much money Zangrillo has put into Magic City, but he and his family were the largest equity backers as of last year. His current legal troubles have developers practicing the art of social distancing.

Bob before the big time

A graduate of the University of Vermont and Stanford Business School, Zangrillo moved to New York in 1995. There he became the CEO of InterWorld, an e-commerce software supplier that worked with Nike and FedEx. At InterWorld, he also started UGO Networks, an entertainment company focused on gaming, which InterWorld sold to Hearst for an estimated $100 million, according to Forbes.

Zangrillo founded his private investment firm Dragon Global in 2008 and moved the company to Miami in 2010. The company says its current and predecessor funds have managed $1 billion in companies with over $500 billion of market value. Zangrillo also claims to be one of the last late-stage venture growth investors in Facebook as well as an investor in Uber, Jet.com and Twitter, according to his company’s website.

For his part, Zangrillo certainly plays the role of a Silicon Valley venture capitalist to his 10,800 followers on Instagram. On some days he is taking ice baths and practicing the Wim Hof method; on others he is showing off his water jetpack or meeting with Los Angeles megamansion developer Mohamed Hadid.

Many of his posts also show off his 11,508-square-foot waterfront estate on Miami Beach’s Di Lido Island. Zangrillo paid $7 million to acquire the property before building a house there for his primary residence in 2016.

Zangrillo, who has shied away from the media attention, declined multiple interview requests through a spokesperson, who did offer one comment: “Mr. Zangrillo’s commitment to fostering a positive and ethical workplace has never wavered, nor has his commitment to the city of Miami and its opportunity to be a global hub of innovation.”

Burning Man

Part of the vision for Magic City had its origins in the desert of Nevada. Zangrillo is a “Burner,” an enthusiast of Burning Man, the annual festival in northwest Nevada  known as much for its ecological message and art installations as it is for its thrill-seeking, power scooter-riding hedge funder attendees.

It was at Burning Man that Zangrillo and his business partner Tony Cho first displayed a silver-colored, 12-foot-high wooden structure spelling out the word “Magic,” which would ultimately become the entrance to the Magic City Innovation District in Little Haiti. The pair, who met through a mutual friend, agreed that Cho, who owns the brokerage Metro1, would be the face of the project, while Zangrillo would help recruit tech companies for it.

In December 2017, Zangrillo and Cho brought on Miami-based development group Plaza Equity Partners along with Lune Rouge, a company led by Guy Laliberté, co-founder of Cirque du Soleil. As the plans solidified, the group attempted to get a Special Area Plan (SAP), which allows property owners who control more than 9 acres of land to apply for zoning changes.

Renderings of the Magic City Innovation District

Under the SAP, the development would include 2,630 residential units, 2 million square feet of office space, 432 hotel rooms and 340,000 square feet of retail, in addition to a pop-up park and sculpture garden at the site in the middle of Little Haiti, at 6001 Northeast Second Avenue.

The development group turned to Miami’s favorite construction lender, Bank of the Ozarks, now known as Bank OZK, for its first round of financing — a $32 million loan issued in February 2018. By that time, the regional bank out of Little Rock, Arkansas, had become one of the most active condo construction lenders in Miami, New York and Los Angeles.

The news hit in March 2019 that Zangrillo was named as part of the college admissions scandal. Later in the month, Zangrillo backed out of his role as managing board member of Magic City. He was replaced by Zach Vella of the New York-based Vella Group.

“He doesn’t have any involvement,” said Vella in an interview with The Real Deal in March 2020. “All decisions are made by the board members, and Bob is completely passive.”

“He needs time to focus on current issues,” Vella added.

Some aren’t convinced that he’s distanced enough from the project.

“Just because they filed that paper in March that he’s no longer the principal in the project doesn’t mean that he is not benefiting from the project,” said Meena Jagannath, an attorney with Community Justice Project, which has filed a lawsuit against the development group for Magic City.

Zangrillo’s still doing some business for his own company, Dragon Global, though it’s unclear if that work intersects with the interests of Magic City. In May, he sought permission from  federal court to go to Montreal for a planned trip that “involved meetings with a large current Dragon Global investor and negotiations to invest in at least two such companies.” The motion did not disclose who he was meeting with, but it’s notable that his colleague on the Magic City project, Guy Laliberté has his company headquarters in the Canadian city.

An ownership chart first revealed by Miami blogger Al Crespo showed that MCD Dragon held the largest equity stake the Magic Innovation District Project, at 35 percent.

Zangrillo personally held a stake of 54 percent in MCD Dragon, while a trust that lists Zangrillo’s daughters, Ashley, Alexa and Amber, held 42 percent, and Los Angeles billionaire investor Neil Kadisha owned 3 percent.

Zangrillo also still has some role, at least, in picking out the artwork for Magic City. Twice in August the investor posted about the project on his personal Instagram account. In early December, he tagged graffiti artist Tristan Eaton in a post that read, “New Art acquisition. Cannot wait to collaborate on Art for the Magic City Innovation District

The original @tristaneaton

.”

OnPoint Global

Zangrillo is more than a backer of the Magic City project. He was chair and one of the lead investors for OnPoint Global, one of Magic City’s first anchor tenants, which leased a warehouse near the heart of the development last June.

OnPoint Global had the largest lease out of the first five tenants to sign at Magic City, taking up 12,000 out of 18,650 square feet. OnPoint was also featured prominently in marketing materials and in interviews that the development group conducted with the Miami Herald.

The company describes itself as a “leading worldwide data-driven, online publisher and service-based e-commerce provider with offices in the United States and Latin America.”

But federal officials allege, in charges filed in December, that OnPoint Global was operating a scheme to defraud people who were seeking government services. The scam allegedly included using sites like DMV.com (instead of .gov). In some cases, the FTC  claimed, OnPoint would charge people to buy information that was already publicly available.

The feds alleged the money man for the operation was Zangrillo, who they claim chaired, co-owned and invested in the company and personally received more than $2 million in distributions and salary from OnPoint Global and its subsidiaries. A federal court in Florida ruled in January that “the websites were patently misleading,” granting an injunction and freezing assets tied to the scheme.

Zangrillo’s lawyer Matthew Schwartz of Boies Schiller Flexner said that Zangrillo was not involved in the day-to-day operation of the company.

“In his role as an investor and limited partner in numerous organizations, Mr. Zangrillo monitors his investments under his companies’ investor rights but has no role in the day-to-day operations of his portfolio companies,” said Schwartz.

Jeff Schneider of Levine Kellogg Lehman Schneider + Grossman, who has acted as a receiver in other FTC cases and is not involved in the OnPoint Global case, said it is significant that the FTC brought the charges against someone as high-profile as Zangrillo. 

“It is surprising to take on so much of a public figure,” said Schnieder. “Even tangentially, these cases are generally 25-year-olds operating in boiler room spaces.”

Former OnPoint Global CFO Bob Bellack said that Zangrillo was not involved in the day-to-day decisions at the company and described his role as being dedicated to bringing investors to the company and providing mentorship to employees.

“His role was pretty typical of any VC [venture capitalist] with a company,”  said Bellack.

Yet one former employee of OnPoint Global told The Real Deal he would often see Zangrillo around the office and disputes the notion that Zangrillo was not aware of what was going on.

“I saw Bob Zangrillo walking through the offices at least once a week for 52 weeks,” said Ryan Marshall, who worked at OnPoint Global for a year as head of talent acquisition. “He was involved in major decisions … he invested a lot of money into the company.”

Cho said in an interview with The Real Deal that Magic City has no immediate plans to remove OnPoint Global as a tenant and will let the case play out.   

On the horizon

At issue right now is how much the college admissions case and the FTC case have hurt Zangrillo and the rest of the development group at Magic City. Miami is rife with developers, investors and brokers who have faced accusations of fraud. It is a city known for giving second chances.

But for now, Zangrillo is backing off. Last month, Avra Jain, developing a $200 million mixed-use project near the Miami River with Zangrillo, said that he was no longer involved in the project.

“Bob Zangrillo was not a managing partner, nor has he been involved in the day-to-day,” Jain said, declining to comment further.

Even when distanced from Magic City, Zangrillo’s troubles could impact the project’s ability to secure permanent financing beyond the loan from Bank OZK. 

David Eyzenberg of the commercial real estate investment bank Eyzenberg & Company, who helps arrange financing for real estate projects, said Zangrillo’s legal troubles will make it more difficult for the group to get financing from a traditional bank.

“If you are a traditional lender you are trying to avoid noise. If you have shareholders, you don’t want noise,” said Eyzenberg.

Andrew Ittleman, an attorney with Miami-based Fuerst Ittleman David & Joseph who is an expert on money laundering, said Zangrillo’s criminal and civil charges could also cause the other developer partners to take on personal guarantees for the project.

“There is not another way to put it; it does not make things easier for the borrower,” he said.

Especially in a world facing extreme upheaval in the wake of the novel coronavirus, what is the appetite for lending to an ambitious development like Magic City? Time will tell. But for now, it appears the project is scrubbing its ties to Zangrillo, who is set to face trial in October for the college admission scandal charges.

Based on his Instagram posts,  Zangrillo doesn’t seem too concerned.

“Life is about balance,” Zangrillo wrote in an October 2019 post. “Too much money or knowledge may not allow you to see the entire picture of life.”

The post Could Bob Zangrillo’s legal troubles imperil Magic City? appeared first on The Real Deal Miami.

from The Real Deal Miami & Miami Florida Real Estate & Housing News | & Curbed Miami - All https://therealdeal.com/miami/2020/03/26/could-bob-zangrillos-legal-troubles-imperil-magic-city/ via IFTTT

[keywestlou]

LEGAL POT ON DUVAL.....MEDMEN

I was out again last night. Two nights in a row! Returning to my dangerous lifestyle! The Chart Room of course was my first stop.

Few people. Maybe 5 in the hour I was there. As I left, 4 couples came in. I was concerned John wasn’t going to make any money.

Understand Key West is dead dead. Every September, every year. You can put money on it. I can’t complain of auto traffic. There is none. Nor people on the sidewalks. The merchants take a beating in September.

I decided to walk Duval a bit. I avoid the first 4 blocks generally. Not last night.

As I walked by Sloppy Joe’s, I heard a melody from days long gone by…..You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray…..please don’t take my sunshine away!

My music!

Easy to understand once I entered. Senior citizens night. Most younger than me. In their 60’s-70’s. They were playing to the crowd.

Sloppy Joe’s suffering business wise also. Sloppy’s maybe 75 percent occupied.

I grabbed a seat at the bar.

I generally eat the same thing at Sloppy Joe’s. Not a Sloppy Joe.

Sloppy’s serves a dish of french fries covered in melted mozzarella covered in a hot red sauce. Delicious! I ordered and enjoyed.

It is amazing. I spent a year eating high fat and low carbs in and lost 62 pounds. Doctors have changed my diet because of the pancreatitis. I now eat little fat and a lot of carbs. My weight remains the same.

The no drinking is no fun. Excuse the redundancy. I miss the drinking. Three months thus far.

Interestingly, I thought the no smoking was going to be a problem. It was initially. Now don’t even think about it.

I was walking down the 100 block of Duval towards the Pier House. Saw this big brightly lit store across the street. For years, a huge sneaker store. Two floors.

The windows were covered in white paper. Could not see in. A small sign on the windows: OPEN FOR BUSINESS. A huge red sign over the entrance: MedMEN.

I can be a bit retarded. What are MedMEN?

I entered. A uniformed guard welcomed me. A lovely young lady came running up to greet me.

The place was beautiful. I knew instantly what it was. A pot store! A place to purchase medical cannabis.

I smiled and left. I had made the tour 2 months ago of the first to open in Key West. On Flagler, near Lee Nails. Same type operation. Except windows were not covered.

The young smiling lady at the Flagler operation greeted me. I asked if they sold marijuana. Yes. The whole place was marijuana packaged all different ways. Multiple flavors available.

All I could think was where was this stuff 50 years ago when I was into it a bit.

The young lady and I spent little time together. Actually, it did not take her long to decide she was going to make no money off me. In Florida, a physician’s prescription is required. She smilingly asked for my prescription. When I told her I had none, she turned and walked away.

MedMEN is a national chain operation. One of the biggies in the business.

The pot business is not turning out to be as lucrative as most thought. Two reasons. One is it costs big dollars to get in. The second is the illicit dealers charge far less.

MedMEN is feeling the squeeze. Needs an infusion of new money. Working on packaging a $250 million loan.

Such was my exciting evening. I was home in bed by 9.

Poured yesterday morning. All morning. Heavy. King tide time for Key West. Increased the overflow by about 6 inches.

The storm sewers could not handle it. Street flooding. More than usual. Northern Boulevard had some passing lanes unpassable. Flagler more flooding than normal. Several blocks in a row deep in water. Deep in water meaning 2 feet.

Other usual spots that flood were a bit higher, also. The intersection of Eaton and White. I Have twice seen people swimming in the intersection. The corner of Duval and Front. No swimming, but have observed people kayaking. Palm just over the bridge heading for Eaton. Residential streets liked United. Some really deep.

I saw none of this last night. I went downtown the long way. Knew what streets to take to avoid the flooding. My only problem would have been the intersection of Duval and Front. However the water had totally receded by the time I got there.

I did see “where” water had been when I entered the Pier House. The ramp entrance off the parking lot. It was obvious water found its way up and in the hallway.  Still wet. Leaves all over the place.

Happy New Year! Lest I forget. The Jewish New Year Rosh Hashanah begins sunday night at 7.

Time seems to change nothing. An edition of the Florida Motorist magazine in 1934 had a large spread advertising Key West as a tourist destination.

Key West advertises world wide today. Successfully. Too successfully sometimes I think. People from all over the world visit. Great for the merchants. Bring problems with them, however.

Look where Key West presnetly is today. Prices higher for everything. More honky tonk on Duval. Horrendous traffic. A parking problem like you would not believe.

I think someday because of the overabundance of visitors and what occurs as a result of their presence, our little island is going to quietly sink beneath the water.

Confucius. Confucius say…..

Today is Confucius’ birthday. He was born 551 B.C.

One of Trump’s goals involved the swamp. The one he was going to drain of corruption. The only thing he has succeeded in doing is increasing the vermin living in the swamp.

Enjoy your day!

        LEGAL POT ON DUVAL…..MEDMEN was originally published on Key West Lou

[ntrending]

No jetpacks. Zero flying cars. Where is the future we were promised?

New Post has been published on https://nexcraft.co/no-jetpacks-zero-flying-cars-where-is-the-future-we-were-promised/

No jetpacks. Zero flying cars. Where is the future we were promised?

Jetpacks and flying cars might seem more at home parked in the pages of sci-fi novels (and, uh, some magazines) than in your garage. In 1924, PopSci ­predicted that airborne autos were just 20 years away, but that wide-eyed optimism wasn’t without reason: Inventors have been tinkering their way toward revolutionary transit for more than a century. The Hyperloop’s ancestry starts in the 1870s. Cruise control debuted in the 1950s. The first air-car prototypes took flight in the same decade. And, in the ’60s, Bell Labs prototyped jet-­powered backpacks. These modes of future commuting are still navigating mass-market expectations: Is it safe? Reliable? Cheap? Here’s a realistic assessment of our people-moving dreams.

Flying cars

What’s the holdup?

The point of flying cars is convenience: to go up and over traffic instead of sitting in it. That means the craft’s propulsion technology must be powerful enough to soar, but also safe, quiet, and nimble enough to land in a suburban driveway.

While startups have developed clever flight schemes, none has found the happy medium between auto and airplane. Silicon Valley company Opener has a single-seater that takes off vertically using eight rotors, but the contraption has no wheels, which means it is more like a personal helicopter than a road-ready rover. Boston-area startup Terrafugia makes the Transition, a two-seat vehicle with folding wings. With its fins deployed, it can fly up to 400 miles at altitudes of 9,000 feet. But there’s a catch: In order to take off, you need a runway.

RELATED: The most exciting aerospace innovations of 2018

Even when the tech comes together, red tape could keep cars grounded. The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration and the Federal Aviation Administration have to clear flying autos. Michael Hirschberg, of the Vertical Flight Society engineering consortium, says approval is at least a decade away. Terrafugia is the closest to finishing its paperwork, and Opener has clearance in Canada only.

Concepts & prototypes

We may not have mass-market flying cars yet, but we’ve been working out the kinks for decades.

1949: Although the precursor to the FAA​­ certified Moulton Taylor’s Aerocar as safe to fly, it never entered production. Makes sense: The driver had to affix a propeller and 15-foot wings before taking flight.

2000: Paul Moller’s M400 Skycar figured prominently in our March 2000 magazine. The single-seat machine flew on the strength of four fans and could “take off from your backyard.” It still hasn’t landed.

2018: The Uber Air multi-rotor flyer vertically takes off and lands. The company aims to deploy fleets of air taxies in L.A. and Dallas in 2020, but the vehicles will be restricted to specific launch zones in the cities.

Promising technologies

1. Better batteries Flying cars need to run on electricity, lest their engine noise rattle suburbanites. But today’s best cells—such as the lithium-ion phosphate ones Terrafugia uses—have just 2 percent of the energy density of fuel. Most startups add more packs, but that loads weight onto things that need to hover. The leap for air sedans will be a battery tech called solid-state. Solids can take higher temps, and hotter batteries tote more energy. Trouble is, nobody’s made one that can hold a charge.

2. More power Vertical takeoff makes the most sense for airborne autos cars. However, using a single motor or engine to hoist a chassis plus passengers would devour ­energy. For its upcoming Nexus hybrid craft, Bell Aerosystems is borrowing an efficient liftoff scheme popularized by drones: quadrotors. In the setup, multiple props both share the load and help stabilize the craft. A planned air taxi from Uber will take off the same way, then cruise aloft fixed wings.

Hyperloop

What’s the holdup?

Hyperloop capsules zoom at the speed of sound along magnetic rails through underground pneumatic tubes. Or as Elon Musk tweeted during his 2013 unveiling: “A cross between a Concorde and a rail gun.”

Musk anticipated his ambitious idea would have a greater chance at success if several groups worked on it concurrently, so he made the project open-source. Also helpful: Versions of the requisite hardware were already out there. Electric motors will send the capsules down aluminum tracks, magnets will provide levitation, and bunches of conventional vacuum pumps will suck all the air out of Hyperloop tunnels to create a nigh-​­frictionless atmosphere.

The biggest physical challenge is digging the passageways, though it’s more a financial woe than a technical one. Musk’s venture for this grunt work, the Boring Company, quotes each mile of tunnel at $1 ­billion, but that might be a lowball: Consider that New York City spent $2.5 billion per mile to build its Second Avenue subway line.

Hyerloop projects have also had false starts. The Boring Company scrapped plans in West LA rather than chew through a legal dispute with locals. Yet some companies are optimistic. Hyperloop Transportation Technologies will break ground in China and the United Arab Emirates this year, and CEO Dirk Ahlborn is already talking launch dates. Ebullience is good, but we still haven’t seen so much as a test run.

Concepts & prototypes

The dream of zippy commutes through underground vacuum tubes is nearly 150 years old.

1870: Inventor Alfred Ely Beach earned a patent for his Pneumatic Transit tech, which got power from large fans at opposite ends of buried vacuum tubes. He secretly built a demo tunnel in New York City.

1970: The Tracked ­Hovercraft was supposed to cut the trip from London to Edinburgh to 90 minutes. Oscillating magnetic fields would have allowed the abandoned concept to zip at 100 mph or more.

2010: Max Schlienger’s Vectorr train floats along magnetic tracks, powered by air pressure from vacuum pumps. He’s got a one-sixth-scale model running through his Napa, California, vineyard.

Promising Technologies

1. Crafty levitation Hyperloops will float above the tracks via levitation schemes like Inductrack rails. Rather than relying on two sets of repelling magnets to lift a capsule, the setup arranges one group on the bottom of the train at right angles—a matrix called a Halbach array—and places wire coils in the rails. At low speeds, motors slide capsules along the track. At about 45 mph, an electromagnetic field between the car and coils forms, raising the train.

2. Real vibranium Regularly traveling at Mach 1 would cause many materials to buckle or crack. ­Instead, ­Hyper­loop Transportation Technologies covers its capsules in a patented composite it calls Vibranium. (Yes, just like the fictional ore that powers Wakanda in Black Panther.) Not only is the ­carbon-​­fiber-­​­based compound 10 times stronger than steel, it’s also one-fifth the weight. Plus, sensors laced throughout check structural integrity.

Jetpacks

What’s the holdup?

In 1958, Popular Science predicted humankind’s “age-old dream of flying like a bird…may be nearer than we think.” Within three decades, jetpack test pilot William Suitor hovered over the opening ceremony of the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics. Even so, our prediction was a bit overblown: Suitor’s moment of glory—bogged down by inefficiency and 120 pounds of kit—lasted 20 seconds.

Jetpacks have inched toward liftoff since Suitor’s stunt. His model used pressurized hydrogen peroxide for fuel, while today’s rocket suits rely on more-efficient kerosene or diesel to fly for 10 to 20 minutes. But ­modern crafts have made only marginal leaps on other issues. Being literal rockets, the packs are noisy; Suitor’s belt screeched at 130 decibels, and Jetpack Aviation’s current model is a slightly muffled 120 decibels. They’re heavy too. The machine Jetpack Aviation CEO David Mayman used to buzz the Statue of Liberty in 2015 is 85 pounds—better, but still crushingly large. And, even if your body can carry the weight, your wallet might collapse under the cost. Entry-level packs run around $250,000.

Concepts & prototypes

Getting jetpacks off the ground was the easy part. Keeping them aloft takes some work.

1958: The U.S. Army commissioned Project Grasshopper—a crude rocket belt—from Utah-based Thiokol Chemical Corporation. The device got one minute of flight from five canisters of nitrogen gas.

1961: Pilot Harold ­Graham zoomed to 112 feet wearing the Small Rocket Lift Device. Developed at Bell Aero­systems, the device’s propellant was stored in ­off-the-shelf air canisters.

2009: Raymond Li’s ­Jetlev-​­Flyer was the first water-​­powered pack to go on sale. The catch: The 30-pound rig was tethered via hose to a boat, which housed an engine to pump the water for thrust.

Promising technologies

1. Fly-by-wire control Winged vehicles steer via adjustable flaps. In the past, the systems used mechanical hardware such as pulleys and cables, but newer “fly-by-wire” tech replaces that with electric switches and motors. Crafts are lighter and nimbler, and pilots no longer need to yank cables to maneuver. Go left? Turn a stick or push a button. Martin Aircraft’s packs use the tech. “When I’m hovering, I can almost completely let go of the controls,” test pilot Paco Uybarreta says.

2. Mini motors Propelling human flight for longer than 20 seconds requires something better than pressurized fuel. Turbo­jets are miniaturized gas- or diesel-powered engines that generate thrust by compressing air through a turbine. Their power-to-weight ratios help trim down packs. Those on Jetpack Aviation’s suits weigh 20 pounds and generate 180 pounds of thrust—enough to put the engine, plus the added heft of fuel, flight systems, and a pilot, into the air.

Self-driving cars

What’s the holdup?

In early 2018, it seemed like autonomous cars were ready to hit public roads. Then a self-driving Uber struck and killed a woman one night in Tempe, Arizona. The incident got folks worried and also highlighted this tech’s big flaw: It cannot reliably recognize hazards in all conditions. Even an untimely glare can mess with a car’s perception.

All-the-time autonomy relies on a suite of tech. GPS tells the car the best route, while sensors—radar, lidar, and cameras—spy obstacles. An artificially intelligent computer processes those inputs to make rapid decisions: slam the brakes for a person, or go through a leaf.

Vehicles must train for hundreds of thousands of hours to learn ­every hazard in every condition. Automakers can log that time more quickly by putting prototypes on the road. This was Uber’s approach, but after the 2018 accident, it hit the brakes. It’s rolling out a more conservative relaunch in Pittsburgh sometime this year. Cars will drive only during the day, in clear weather, and below 25 mph. While Uber reboots, Waymo—the Google spinoff—might win the race: It’s testing in 25 cities, and launched a robo-taxi service this past December in greater Phoenix.

Still, run-anytime models are decades away. “For a car that can drive up to 65 mph in rain and snow, it will be a long time,” says Huei Peng, director of autonomous vehicle testing at the University of Michigan. Waymo’s CEO recently made a bleaker forecast: It may never happen.

Concepts & prototypes

Robots have been in driver’s ed since the midcentury, but they’re still not ready to graduate to public roads.

1958: Engineers measure autonomy from zero (full human control) to five (total robo driver). The first step is taking your feet off the pedals, as drivers did when cruise control debuted on late-’50s Chryslers.

1989: As autos reach level 2, they learn to see the world and recognize basic hazards. ­Sensors and a computer brain on Carnegie Mellon’s ALVINN, a retrofitted ambulance, let it navigate the campus.

2007: To reach levels 3 and up, cars must handle routes without much (if any) help. The Carnegie Mellon Boss mastered a 55-mile course filled with traffic signals—and other vehicles.

Promising technologies

1. Cheaper sensors Electronic eyes provide a full picture of the road, but the combined cost of high-res cameras, ­radar, lidar, and other sensors totals (conservatively) $75,000. Optics engineers are working on less-spendy ­versions. Waymo, for one, has claimed it’s made a rooftop spinning lidar for just $7,500. Autonomous vehicle companies keep in-house development hush-hush, but, as engineers keep tinkering, the costs will drop further.

2. Brainer mobile brains Driverless cars parse sensor data into navigational cues with a type of AI called a neural network. The brainlike system must ID every view of a jaywalker amid every combination of weather and lighting, and then—within milliseconds—swerve, brake, or plow ahead. Programmers have been training networks to drive since the ‘80s, but on old, slow chips. ­Today, thanks in part to video­ games, ­graphics ​­processors are speedy enough to read the road.

This article was originally published in the Spring 2019 Transportation issue of Popular Science.

Written By Andrew Zaleski

[gishwheshistorian]

Gishwhes 2012 Item List

Lucky Seven: Things to remember that can help find your way to ghost hunting in Scotland!

1. Safety. There's a way to scavenge all of these items safely AND legally.

2. Commandments. Read the Commandments. Yes, again. And maybe one more time. Also, we may add or remove items and change the rules on you mid-hunt. So it is your responsibility to check the "Updates" page daily.

3. Submission Quality. Submit the best quality photos and videos. This year, our judges have been authorized to assign up to 50% more points for superior submissions. That means if you execute a 50-point item with exceptional care and thought, you could walk away with 75 points. So think about focus, lighting, background props, etc. If the picture is riveting, the judges will likely be riveted, and, well, you do the math.

4. Interpretation. Submit exactly what is asked for, not your reinterpretation of it. If we ask for a camel in the picture we don't want a drawing of a camel, or an inflatable camel. We want a real, hairy, spitting humped beast.

5. Creative Scavenging. Be creative on how you get props and materials for your items. Last year's participants proved you don't have to buy stuff. They used friends, neighbors, donations and communities. They were also surprised how complete strangers thoroughly enjoyed helping them complete items. Throw "Item Parties" and have people bring what you need. You can win cheaply simply by being clever, borrowing or begging.

6. Courage. Be courageous. You don't need money or talent to win this. All of these items can be completed simply by having the courage to ask someone. Between the 15 of you, someone somewhere has what you need or can help you get it.

7. Do it. Have fun, make friends, push your boundaries and mud wrestle with your creative side.

There are a number of items below that have the word "Hurricane" in front of them. Although they can be completed by anyone, they are designed to be completed by people who might be home-bound with no electricity for the next few days because of Hurricane Sandy on the East Coast in the US. Please note, if the power outages are prolonged, we may extend the deadline for these items (and perhaps all others) past the end of the hunt. Remember, if you're on the East Coast and your authorities have told you to stay inside, FOLLOW THEIR DIRECTIONS! Do NOT go outside. Be safe and good luck!

ALL of the Items below should either be captured as "images" (which are photographs) or "videos". When you click "Submit", there will be instructions on how to submit the links to these images or videos. You should only use IMGUR, VIMEO and YOUTUBE. IMPORTANT - Unless otherwise specified, ALL VIDEOS must be 30 seconds or less!

1. Guinness Item Coming Soon! Stay tuned! (0 points)

We are going to attempt to shatter the Guinness World Record for the “Most Pledges to Commit a Random Act of Kindness.” The current record is 74,379 pledges held by Guinness Breweries. Let’s take the throne! Your team must collect “pledges” from individuals pledging to do a Random Act. Click this link and follow instructions; don’t click the submit button here. (You get 1 point for every 2 pledges - up to 350 points maximum. It’s only 47 per team member, but we expect you to exceed this because this isn’t all about points. Is it?) (0 points)

2. [IMAGE] A four-post, queen-sized bed with headboard and footboard. On the bed: a sleeping person. Over the person: A comforter. Under the person’s head: A pillow. Bed, person, comforter and pillow must all be situated in a Wal-Mart parking lot.(62 points)

3. [IMAGE] A storm trooper in full costume including leggings (not just the mask!) cleaning a pool. We must see someone lounging in a swimsuit holding a cocktail nearby. (78 points)

4. [IMAGE] Help someone who has been injured or whose home has been damaged by hurricane Sandy. (60 points)

5. [IMAGE] Let’s see what Twister would look like with 13 people. Each person must be wearing only one color of clothing, i.e. all yellow, or all red and no two people can be wearing the same color clothing. (56 points)

6. [IMAGE] Hurricane Item - If your child were a prodigy artist and had a marker and you were deep asleep and they were inspired to “beautify” your face, what would the result be? (8 points)

7. [IMAGE] 3 adults and a dog sitting on chairs around a table in a public library. The humans are reading Dr. Seuss books. The dog is wearing prescription eyeglasses and reading Kant. (23 points)

8. [IMAGE] Ever seen the movie “The Hangover”? Let’s see the aftermath of the most debaucherous party ever. Photo must be taken at the home of a team member’s parents. (38 points)

9. [IMAGE] Using a Zamboni and dyes, draw a giant frowny face on an ice-skating rink. (72 points)

10. [IMAGE] Find an object that was manufactured the day and year you were born in city or town of your birth. Prove it. (Note: the “object” in question cannot be you or your twin.) (34 points)

11. [IMAGE] Submit a “Freedom of Information Act” request for your personal files. (5 points)

12. [IMAGE] Creatively edit the Wikipedia entry for Jared Padelecki to seamlessly include your team name and some mention of his abiding admiration of Misha Collins. (6 points)

[WEBSITE] Create the Misha Collins fan site that Jared Padelecki would build if he only knew HTML. Submit the website URL.  (6 points)

13. [IMAGE] An op-ed piece published in a local paper about how “petty, vindictive birds are stealing from the elderly!” (23 points)

14. [IMAGE] A person in a business suit with a leather briefcase jumping into leaf pile. (18 points)

15. [IMAGE] Five parking tickets made out to the same license plate on the same day in the same municipality. (66 points)

16. [IMAGE] Knit a scarf that is at least 12 feet long and is being worn by 3 people at one time. (32 points)

17. [IMAGE] Thread the stem of an actual, still-green, four-leafed clover through the hole of a nose piercing. (12 points)

18. [IMAGE] You and 8 of your friends standing outside the Copenhagen City Hall. One of you, smiling, is holding a large sign that says: “Denmark - ranked 2012 ‘World’s Happiest Country!’” Everyone else in the photo must be either pissed off or crying. Mascara must be running. (18 points)

19. [IMAGE] A uniformed Burger King employee enjoying a McDonald’s Happy Meal. (33 points)

20. [IMAGE] Get a tour of a sauerkraut factory. Photo must depict at least 50 gallons of uncanned sauerkraut and a team member wearing a single sequenced glove. (63 points)

21. [IMAGE] The inside of an ICBM missile silo decorated for Halloween. Remember, it must be a real ICBM silo to qualify. “Interpretation” will dock points from your team… unless it’s really good! (190 points)

22. [IMAGE] We’ve all heard of a “flea circus”. What do “flea strip clubs” look like? (28 points)

23. [IMAGE] A GISHWHES counter-rally at an Obama or Romney campaign stop. Must include at least 5 people with large picket signs.(54 points)

24. [IMAGE] The president, king, chancellor, premiere or prime minister of a nation modeling a brazier. (141 points)

25. [IMAGE] Calendar item: A photo of a scantily clad fireman (or firemen) whose skimpy attire is made entirely from kale. Model must be posing in front of a fire truck. Bonus points if, behind him, water is shooting up into the air from a hose or hydrant. (71 points)

26. [IMAGE] Proof that a team member’s family tree leads to Genghis Khan. (24 points)

27. [IMAGE] A photo of someone using one of those ancient 1800s cameras – you know the ones with the wooden tripod and the black cloth – taking a photo of a commodore 64 computer that’s resting on a wooden stool. (49 points)

28. [IMAGE] A live monkey or ape wearing a sock monkey hat while trying to extract burnt toast from a toaster. (82 points)

29. [IMAGE] Have a romantic dinner with a marionette puppet at a 2- or 3-star Michelin restaurant. A puppeteer clad in black must control the marionette. The puppeteer must not eat. (86 points)

30.[IMAGE] Show up at Second Beach in Stanley Park, Vancouver, Canada on November 4th at noon with 500 popsicle sticks, a spool of sewing thread and quick-drying glue. (90 points)

31. [IMAGE] Unionize GISHWHES. (38 points)

32. [IMAGE] Fifteen children in Halloween costumes each holding up a sign with a different letter that, combined, say “GISHWHES or Treat” (19 points)

33. [IMAGE] Get your team name and “GISHWHES” on a billboard. Must include commercial-looking graphics, and must be at least 100 square feet on an actual, commercial billboard. (131 points)

34. [IMAGE] Calendar item: Wear cheese and wear it well. You cannot be wearing anything but cheese. You may use any type of cheese you wish. Supermodel it posed next to or on a classic car (a classic car is any car that predates 1980.) (98 points)

35. [IMAGE] Draw or paint a portrait of Misha Collins and the Queen of England, both dressed in Steampunk, riding on a single stallion. (28 points)

36. [IMAGE] Hug a uniformed Veteran. (42 points)

37. [IMAGE] A screen cap of a chat thread on Misha Collins’ IMDB page. The thread must be started by a user with your team’s name and must pose an unusual question about Misha’s personal life, such as, “Is it true that Misha Collins eats nothing but the hearts of human babies?” Or “Why doesn’t Misha have any fingers?” (14 points)

38. [IMAGE] A Hell’s Angels (or at least a tough & leathered biker) with an authentic Teletubby tattoo. (69 points)

39. [IMAGE] You and 3 of your friends/family dressed like Egyptians in a chariot on the steps of the Wellington Monument in Dublin. (71 points)

40. [IMAGE] Create a portrait of Jensen Ackles entirely out of skittles doing his pouty “Blue Steel” look. Must be AT LEAST 2 feet by 2 feet. (38 points)

41. [IMAGE] A real full-sized commercial Blimp or hot-air balloon, in the air, that’s been completely covered in brightly colored autumn maple leaves. (299 points)

42. [IMAGE] There is a quote on a piece of paper stuck to the bottom of a bench overlooking the bay in Sausalito. Find it and follow directions. If the paper disappears the points will be deducted from the last team to submit a link. (32 points)

43. [IMAGE] Go to the Grimm Brother’s statue with 10 of your friends and dress up and pose as a “Fairy Tale gone bad!” (29 points)

44. [IMAGE] What happens when you roast Barbie and Ken (in an embrace) with an assortment of root vegetables? You will be penalized if you eat the roasted vegetables. You also will probably die as they will be toxic from the roasted plastic. (19 points)

45. [IMAGE] Let’s see your team displayed like the “Brady Bunch” opening credits except there are 3 rows of 5 pictures (versus the 3X3 we know from the “Brady Bunch” opening credits points). The submission must be 1 image with the 15 frames in it. Each of you must be wearing 70s attire and must look VERY emotionally unbalanced. (15 points)

46.[IMAGE] Your head in a sock monkey hat mounted like a hunting trophy on a wall next to a taxidermy moose head. (113 points)

47.[IMAGE] It’s time to get organized! Create a filing system for chickens in a chicken coup. (52 points)

48. [IMAGE] What do you look like sleeping? What does a close-up of your child smiling in your kitchen look like? What would a cake look like if your child made it with no help from you? And what would your child’s face look like if he or she could eat the cake while you’re still sleeping? MUST SUBMIT AS ONE PICTURE with the four images edited together in progression side-by-side. (31 points)

49. [IMAGE] Build a teahouse under a bridge from recycled materials. Have a cup of tea in it. (73 points)

50. [IMAGE] Belgium is known for its beer. Go to A La Becasse Brewery and hold up a GISHWHES labeled beer. (61 points)

51. [IMAGE] How long was Miss Jean Louis’s “kale binge”? One might find the answer on one of our social media platforms. (29 points)

52. [IMAGE] Hurricane Item - Build a real igloo-doghouse in the snow. Dog must be visible in the doorway. GISHWHES must be written in food coloring on the doghouse. (58 points)

53. [IMAGE] Carve a Jill O'Lantern! Carve a pumpkin to look like a feminized Misha Collins. Bonus points for realism. (61 points)

54. [IMAGE] Elmo Gone Wrong. What would a Tickle-Me-Elmo look like if it had a serious crystal meth problem? (31 points)

55. [IMAGE] A man in a chicken suit in the pilot seat of a commercial jet. (132 points)

56. [IMAGE] Drop a school bus (may be a toy bus) into red, molten lava from an active volcano. (145 points)

57. [IMAGE] Create a public chalk art piece diagramming Kant’s categorical imperative. (19 points)

58. [IMAGE] You and your friend at a children’s hospital giving a sock or real puppet show. (48 points)

59. [IMAGE] Hurricane Item - Knit a “GISHWHES” vest for a cat with matching booties. (43 points)

60. [IMAGE] Sign and have notarized (or equivalent of notarized in your country) an affidavit vowing never to build raised garden boxes within the city limits of South Pasadena. (34 points)

61. [IMAGE] What would you and your friend look like if you were a human-sized burrito and taco standing side by side? (57 points)

62. [IMAGE] Build a model of the death scene of Galois in miniature out of legumes. (43 points)

63. [IMAGE] 5 uniformed postal workers hula hooping in front of a post office. (108 points)

64. [IMAGE] Attend a professional soccer (a.k.a. “football” everywhere but North America) game dressed in a US football uniform. Pads, helmet, cleats, etc. (72 points)

65. [IMAGE] Create a 2 foot-high dinosaur out of sanitary napkins. (50 points)

66. [IMAGE] Skydive while holding up a sign that imbeds, “GISHWHES” in a phrase. For example, your sign could say, “Lose your dignity – join GISHWHES.” Or “GISHWHES made me do it.” (168 points)

67. [IMAGE] Hurricane Item - Find prime factorization for RSA-210. (120 points)

68. [IMAGE] There is a quote on a piece of paper stuck to the bottom of a bench in front of a massive LCD screen in Wuhan, China. Find it and follow directions. If the note disappears the points will be deducted from the last team to the last team to submit a link to an image. (52 points)

69. [IMAGE] You and a friend must take at least 50 of your stuffed animals/dolls on a field trip to a grocery store. All of the stuffed animals/dolls must EITHER be attached to your clothing or in a grocery cart or both. (63 points)

70. [IMAGE] Recreate the snake’s seduction of Eve at a bus stop. Fig leaf, apple, snake, etc. (41 points)

71. [IMAGE] Hurricane Item - Sculpt your hair with gel, wires, tape, ornaments, animals, and whatever else into what someone would undoubtedly have to classify as the Most Epic Hair Hat the World Has Ever Seen (MEHHWHES) (29 points)

72. [IMAGE] A Yoga class in a yoga studio with at least 10 participants doing the same pose. Unlike everyone else, however, you must be wearing full skiwear including ski boots, skis, hat and goggles. (56 points)

73. [IMAGE] Break your own world record. (20 points)

74. [IMAGE] A bookstore on the Left Bank declares “Be not inhospitable to strangers lest they be angels in disguise.” Stand in front of this Parisian landmark dressed as an angel holding up a sign saying, “Don’t touch me.” (64 points)

75. [IMAGE] You handing coats you’ve collected from your closet, friends and neighbors to a local shelter. (70 points)

76. [IMAGE] Make a gorgeous wig out of cheese puffs and/or popcorn. Go shopping for diamonds wearing it. The image must show you in the wig, at the jewelry display case, talking to the sales agent, as you browse the diamonds. (77 points)

77. [IMAGE] If your team could give the entire world one piece of advice, what would it be? Have one a team member hold a sign bearing the statement over their head in front of an internationally recognizable landmark. (38 points)

78. [IMAGE] Hurricane Item - A one-page GISHWHES comic strip involving a rhinoceros, a tangerine, and an appendectomy. (33 points)

79. [IMAGE] Rio is the location for the next summer Olympics. In front of the Christ the Redeemer statue, you and 6 of your friends must all be dressed in different Olympian athlete event costumes, and each of you must have at least one piece of equipment (bow and arrow, javelin, pole vault, discus, paddle, puck, etc.) and must be posing as if you were competing in the sport. You may NOT choose tennis, cycling, golf, basketball or football/soccer. If you choose equestrian as one of them, we must see the horse. (68 points)

80. [IMAGE] You posing with a “spaghetti gun” and wearing a woven “spaghetti-hunting jacket”. Spaghetti may be cooked or uncooked. (42 points)

81. [IMAGE] We want to see what the inside of Area 51’s most secret storage room looks like. (42 points)

82. [IMAGE] Let’s see you make a snow angel. But instead of making it from snow, make it from Jello on your kitchen floor (Inspired by Nin Pipariperho) (19 points)

83. [IMAGE] You holding a picture of you holding a picture of you holding a picture of you holding a picture of you holding a picture of an apple. You must have a gold frame suspended around your head. (Inspired by nakedontheimpalacoveredinbees) (33 points)

84. [IMAGE] Stand next to a REAL Olympic gold or silver medal winner. They must have their arms upraised in victory but you must be biting on the medal while it’s around their neck. Must include medal winner’s name in the photo (Inspired by Paige Barton) (98 points)

85. [IMAGE] Cultural exchange: Have dinner with a Sunni and a Shiite or a Hutu and a Tutsi. (64 points)

86. [IMAGE] A Bejeweled Bosom covered with nothing but jewels (Inspired by Erin Leigh Winchester) (36 points)

87. [IMAGE] Catch the Snipe and show us what it looks like in oil paint. (Inspired by Obadiah Kliest) (17 points)

88. [IMAGE] The Maryann Elizabeth Voisinet. Write a 10-line epically beautiful brilliant love poem addressed to “My Dearest Maryann Elizabeth Voisinet”. In addition to whatever else you put in the poem, include something about how much you like her cooking. The poem should be from your team name. Take a picture of the poem and submit the link here. YOU MUST ALSO mail the love poem to her with a small dried flower to PO BOX 99185, Raleigh, NC USA 27624. It must reach her by November 15th so we can confirm it was sent. (20 points)

89. [IMAGE] A priest, a rabbi and a minister all walk into a bar. (Inspired by Miss Alexandra Roberts) (27 points)

90. [IMAGE] High Tea - a formal tea party replete with parasols, silverware and a string quartet situated in a junkyard or garbage dump. (56 points)

91. [IMAGE] Table a motion (18 points)

92. [IMAGE] A schlemiel and a schlemazl sharing a schmear of schmaltz and getting shickered outside of a shul. (From Nicole Ansell) (19 points)

93. [IMAGE] Using only items found around you (either at work, home, or school), construct a vehicle capable of adventure and mayhem! Vehicle must be transporting a crew of three or more in full battle gear! (From Kat Green) (56 points)

94. [IMAGE] Paint a large unicorn on a military transport truck. You MUST have permission to do so. (114 points)

95. [IMAGE] Kilt made entirely of sliced cucumbers. Must be worn by a man. (From Xiomara Dilrosun) (104 points)

96. [IMAGE] In front of Hallgrimskirkja, you and a friend hold up two signs and two bags of ice. One sign says “Welcome to Iceland!” the other says “Keep your hands off our ice!” (41 points)

97. [IMAGE] Santa Clause in line at the post office with a SACK FULL OF TOYS. Must be at least 10 people in line with him. (From Sarah Charbonneau) (32 points)

98. [IMAGE] A dog taking a human for a walk. Human must be on all fours and have a collar around their neck and the dog must have the leash in his mouth. (From Michelle Rogatski) (34 points)

99. [VIDEO] Big wheel race time. 4 adults racing on plastic big wheels. They must all be wearing formal attire. (38 points)

100. [VIDEO] In mime, depict one of the following phrases: a) “The pen is mightier than the sword.” b) “You’re the bees knees!” c) “Holkyn kolkyn!” (Inspired by Ida Tamminen) (32 points)

101. [VIDEO] A couple who has been together for over 60 years sitting on a couch sharing their secrets to a happy and lasting partnership. They must say what city and country they’re living in at the beginning of the video. (Up to 60 SECONDS) (99 points)

102. [VIDEO] Jog in real “Pumpkin shoes” (you may substitute any squash or gourd), wearing jogging shorts and headphones down a busy sidewalk. (50 points)

103.[VIDEO] Two three-year-olds wearing suits and ties standing at a lectern explaining the Greek debt crisis to the camera. (28 points)

104. [VIDEO] The “Lydia Easter”: Recreate a scene from your favorite movie. Hold on, not so fast! You must film this scene in the EXACT SAME LOCATION that it was filmed in the movie (same bus stop, restaurant, park, castle, shark’s belly, etc.) The actors must be dressed the same, same props, etc. The more identical the scene the more points you will receive. Extra points for depicting a scene from one of Lydia’s favorite movies: “Mao’s Last Dancer” or any of the “Harry Potter” movies. (2 minutes) (100 points)

105. [VIDEO] The first meeting of an adopted child with their biological parent. We will know if this is staged with “actors”. Don’t lie – bad karma is not a good thing. (148 points)

106. [VIDEO] Film a Random Act of Kindness and set it to music. (May be up to 90 seconds.) Must include voice over. Note: Your video will be automatically entered into the non-profit Random Acts’ SAARA contest. If your video submission wins the contest, up to $3,000 will be donated to the charity of your choice! See this link for all details:http://www.therandomact.org/events/saara/ BE SURE TO SUBMIT THE VIDEO LINK ON THE GISHWHES WEBSITE, not the Random Acts website. We will allocate your GISHWHES points and forward your video to Random Acts. If your team wins the SAARA contest, your team will vote on which charity should receive the donation. If you can’t come to a consensus on which charity to support, we’ll do a blind drawing to select a winner. Good luck! (121 points)

107. [VIDEO] A man and a woman in full wedding attire, standing perfectly still holding hands in a well-lit crowded public space for 20 minutes. Neither of you can move. This submission must be time-lapsed so the entire 20 minutes is condensed to 20 seconds – fast motion. (79 points)

108. [VIDEO] Wearing swim flippers and a mask, approach a complete stranger in a public space and then hand them a “seaweed bouquet” with one flower in the middle of it. (82 points)

109. [VIDEO] Ever seen this? http://www.upworthy.com/if-your-dad-did-this-you-are-probably-an-awesome-person?c=upw3 Let’s do the same thing but edit together multiple kids under the age of 5 singing “It Sucks to Be Me” from the Avenue Q musical. They must be lying down getting ready to nap, playing with toys, painting or drawing or doing other kids things while they’re singing. (79 points)

110. [VIDEO] Let’s see your family dress and pose and create the “Worst Family Holiday Card Ever”. Note: everyone must be holding a cucumber. If you use an image already on the Internet and try to “doctor” in the cucumbers your team will be docked 60 points.(60 points)

111. [VIDEO] Created a choreographed lip-synced dance performance to one of Jason Manns’ or Rob Bennedict’s (Louden Swain’s) songs. Must be dynamic, must really tell a story, must involve costumes (and costume changes points) and must have a cast of at least 15. (123 points)

112. [VIDEO] A mechanical catapult that sends a pumpkin more than 100 feet across an open field. MUST be mechanical. (284 points)

113. [VIDEO] Three adult men with facial hair (ideally beards) wearing ballerina costumes, successfully trick-or-treating (getting candy) from an unsuspecting homeowner. (Note: we will be able to tell if the homeowner is actually surprised or not because we have Licensed Homeowner Surprise Analysts on staff.) (49 points)

114. [VIDEO] Give a psychic reading to a psychic with a crystal ball. (40 points)

115. [VIDEO] Three of you dress up like frogs and play “leapfrog” in your local Starbucks or chain coffee shop. We must see patrons and must hear “Ribbit!” each time you leap. (31 points)

116. [VIDEO] Get a full church choir (in a church!) to sing a 30 second remixed version of Willow Smith’s “I whip my hair back and forth.” But there’s a catch: Unlike the original version, which is an assault on both the senses and humanity itself, this rendition actually has to be musical and moving. (91 points)

117. [VIDEO] Play “Duck Duck Goose” with real ducks and geese. (38 points)

118. [VIDEO] Create a video of a mock news show (realistic set) where you are at a desk and announce that GISHWHES has taken over the world and what that means for everyone. The more realistic the set/video the more points. (92 points)

119. [VIDEO] Recite “The Raven” to a crow. (21 points)

120. [VIDEO] Have a native speaker of Zigeuner say the following, “I was having trouble with my sex life until I joined GISHWHES. Now things are going great in bed.” (82 points)

[IMAGE] Sew a one-piece outfit that covers your entire body except for your hands, feet, and head. It should be made from 21 different pieces of fabric. Multiple colors is acceptable. You must be wearing it, and a Captain’s hat. Pose in front of your local Post Office and stand at “Attention” when your photo is taken. (51 points)

121. [VIDEO] A group of at least 8 people wearing newspaper hats, performing the Haka in a government building. (Inspired by Yeal Rosen) (33 points)

122. [VIDEO] Dress in a homemade GISHWHES cheerleader outfit and stand outside a metro station or office building and cheer people on going in to work. (From Deby G) (30 points)

123. [VIDEO] Build an abacus from human beings. Use it to calculate something for a passerby. (77 points)

124. [VIDEO] Shoot an erotically charged scene. (No nudity! This is just the erotically charged foreplay). The film must involve a pizza man and the actors can ONLY talk about grammar and fonts. Please use at least three of the following terms, “kerning,” “serif,” “gerund,” “participle,” and “imperfective.” (69 points)

125. [VIDEO] Have an octogenarian teach you how to do the Charleston. (53 points)

126. [VIDEO] Get an orchestra in a symphony hall with at least 25 instruments to play “Carry On My Wayward Son”. (225 points)

127. [VIDEO] You in a flight attendant uniform, on a public transit system (that is NOT an airplane). Once the passengers are seated, give a full safety demonstration. Use props and carefully choreographed gestures. (Inspired by Cherylyn Crill) (75 points)

128. [VIDEO] Get His Serene Highness Hans-Adam II, Prince of Liechtenstein to endorse your team. (132 points)

129. [VIDEO] One of you pulling up to a fast food restaurant drive-thru to order a meal, but instead of ordering a meal, you are only allowed to make sheep noises into the intercom. Must clearly hear the person on the other end of the intercom. (From Mel Clark-Schwartz) (19 points)

130. [VIDEO] Get your (1) team name or a team member’s full name and (2) GISHWHES mentioned on a broadcast television news program. (153 points)

131. [VIDEO] Recode a version of the original Pac Man so that the ghosts are now unicorns and Pac Man is the face of George Bush. Then play a game. (111 points)

132. [VIDEO] A rocking horse wearing a sock monkey hat skiing off a regulation-sized ski-jump. (No passengers allowed!) (123 points)

133. [VIDEO] A woman wearing traditional shaker attire playing “Dance Dance Revolution”. (52 points)

134. [VIDEO] Create a petition to declare P does NOT equal NP and get strangers on the street to sign it. Must include a convincing pitch about the dangers of P=NP. (23 points)

135. [VIDEO] A man wearing traditional mariachi attire playing “Guitar Hero”. (51 points)

136. [VIDEO] March to a different drummer. 10 people in a busy, indoor shopping mall must be marching in sync to the beat of a snare drum being played loudly by an 11th person. Another person must be marching nearby to a distinctly different beat played by a second drummer. (63 points)

137. [VIDEO] A rock band performing in front of an audience of at least 1000 people. They must say at the microphone, “This next one is a new song. We’ve never played it in front of a live audience before. It’s going to be the first song on our next album and we hope you love it…” And then they must sing the song “Three Blind Mice” in rounds. (280 points)

138. [VIDEO] A woman, in a clean empty room, sitting in lotus position in the middle of at least five live snakes. She must be rubbing oil onto her arms from a silver bowl and clearly be enjoying it. The more snakes the more points. They must be real snakes. If they’re not, points will be deducted from your team. Go for the best photo/video quality. (220 points)

139. [VIDEO] It’s Halloween! Carve GISHWHES into a pumpkin. Wait for nightfall. Have a child with a flashlight hide inside the pumpkin pop out and scream “GISHWHES.” Hint: must be an enormous pumpkin for a child to fit in it. (80 points)

140. [VIDEO] A stop-motion film depicting the two by two loading of Noah’s ark and the ensuing flood. (99 points)

141. [VIDEO] Watch the TV show Supernatural on a black and white TV set powered by an antique stream-fed wooden watermill. Your video must be a continuous, unedited shot that starts showing us the water going into the water-wheel then moves to show the belts powering a generator, which in turn powers the TV. (287 points)

142. [IMAGE] Hurricane Item - Pun item: It’s called “Hurricane Sandy” for a reason. Show us why. (18 points)

143. [IMAGE] Hurricane Item - Local news coverage of a very sweet and heroic act that your team perpetrated in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy. Must mention GISHWHES or your team name or at the very least, the term “scavenger hunt.” (91 points)

144. [IMAGE] Hurricane Item - Someone with their thumb out to hitch hike in front of a subway or metro stop that has been closed due to weather on the eastern coast of the US. Note: this photo must, like all other “outdoor” items, be taken AFTER your local authorities have said it’s safe to go outside, but before the public transit system is back up and running. (33 points)

145. [IMAGE] Hurricane Item - Someone skateboarding on the floor of an otherwise empty New York Stock exchange taken mid-day. (148 points)

146. [IMAGE] Hurricane Item - Make a children’s doll from items found in your refrigerator or pantry. Go ahead and really creep us out with this one. (24 points)

147. [VIDEO] Hurricane Item - Make a comfortable fort in your living room using furniture, sheets, pillows, towels and curtains. From inside your fort, show a storm raging outside your window. This video must clearly show high winds and rain outside the window and the window must have an “X” of masking tape across it. (32 points)

148. [IMAGE] Hurricane Item - A picture of you and a loved one kissing. Here’s the catch though - you must have at least 11 food items between your lips and the lips of your loved one. (29 points)

149. [IMAGE] Hurricane Item - Draw or paint a picture of Miss Jean Louis riding a school bus like a horse as it flies off a cliff into a volcano. There can be no passengers and she must have a dialogue bubble above her head that says something she would definitely say at this moment. (32 points)

150. [IMAGE] Hurricane Item - It’s Medieval Battle Time! Huzzah! You and a friend or loved one, dress up in your best battle gear/armory comprised entirely of kitchen ware. You can be wearing nothing else. Strike dueling poses. (39 points)

151. [VIDEO] Hurricane Item - Recite these lines from Edna St. Vincent Milay’s poem, “First Fig”: “my candle burns at both ends—It will not last the night;—But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—-It gives a lovely light,” with a candle burning at both ends in front of your face. No other sources of light may be visible. In the background, we must hear the droning howl of Hurricane Sandy. (19 points)

152. [VIDEO] “The Maryam Al-Thani” - Dress up in Amish clothes, and use a horse or horses to tow your car into the parking lot of a corporate office building complex with “Gangnam Style” playing out of the car’s stereo. (70 points)

The Gishwhes Historian is a project to archive Gishwhes-related information including emails, hunt updates, timelines, and more.  

You can find all previous item lists here.

You can view all our information on the 2012 hunt here, or select another year here.

If you’d like to help, we have a list of missing content here,  or you can fill out one of our surveys.