driving by the coast

Name: Theodore Malcolm Jackson
Nicknames: Theo, Teddy, Bubba
Height: 6’2”
Fatal flaw: Hyper-focus
Demigod weapon of choice: sword
Favorite food: pepperoni pizza
Favorite drink: hot chocolate
Loves: relaxing Sunday mornings, reading the newspaper, surf trips with his dad
Hobbies include: drawing, surfing, skateboarding, going to museums, drives up the coast, gossiping with his mom
Grows up to be: an architect

8

Found a super cheap flight to Maui last weekend, so I rented a car and explored the entire island solo. I spent the weekend sleeping in the car, waking up at sunrise, driving the entire coast, photographing, hiking, and eating the local cuisine. I can’t say there have been many other times where I felt this alive in my whole life.

Maui, Hawaii. February 2016.

buzzfeed.com
Oh... Shaq Thinks The World Is Flat
Maybe he can see something up there we can't?
By Christian Zamora

“It’s true. The Earth is flat. The Earth is flat. Yeah, it is. Yes, it is. […] So, listen, I drive from coast to coast, and this shit is flat to me. I’m just saying. I drive from Florida to California all the time, and it’s flat to me. I do not go up and down at a 360 degree angle, and all that stuff about gravity, have you looked outside Atlanta lately and seen all these buildings? You mean to tell me that China is under us? China is under us? It’s not. The world is flat.” - Shaq

Maggie Stiefvater talks 'All the Crooked Saints,' and here's a first look at the cover

Maggie Stiefvater may have concluded the Raven Cycle just last year, but the author already has a new stand-alone YA novel hitting shelves later this year.

The book, titled All the Crooked Saints, takes place in the 1960s in Bicho Raro, Colorado and follows the lives of three members of the Soria family-each of whom is searching for their own miracle. There’s Beatriz, who appears to lack feelings but wants to study her mind; Daniel, the “Saint” of Bicho Raro, a miracle worker for everyone but himself; and Joaquin (a.k.a. Diablo Diablo), who runs a pirate radio station at night.

Adding to the mystery (and magic) of the book is the book’s intriguing cover-which EW is pleased to reveal exclusively below.

“There are owls in the book because owls are a very scientific creature that gets credited with a lot of magical superstitions,” Stiefvater tells EW. “There are roses in the book because roses are a very magical flower that take a lot of science to truly understand. Put that together and well - as the kids say, that’s it. That’s the book.”

With Stiefvater’s latest novel set to hit stores on Oct. 10, EW caught up with the bestselling author to find out more about what’s in store for readers, her process, and of course, her upcoming Ronan Lynch trilogy.

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: All three of your characters are looking for a miracle. What do miracles, or the idea of miracles mean to them?
MAGGIE STIEFVATER: Miracles! Miracles! Miracles! This book is full of them. I was taught by nuns for the first dozen years of my life, and so I was raised with a pantheon of peculiar saints: decapitated saints who carried their own severed head through the streets of cities, saints who exorcised demons from the bottoms of milk pails, saints who flew unexpectedly.

The Soria family are saints as well, and the miracle they perform for pilgrims to Bicho Raro is as strange as most miracles are: They can make the darkness inside you visible. Once the pilgrims see their inner darkness face to face, it’s up to them to perform another miracle on themselves: banishing the darkness for good. It can be a tricky business to vanquish your inner demons, even once you know what they are, but the Sorias are forbidden to help with this part. They’ve all been told that if a Soria interferes with the second miracle, it will bring out their own darkness, and a saint’s darkness, so the story goes, is a most potent and dangerous thing.

The three cousins in the story all have their own relationship with the family miracles: Daniel, the current acting Saint of Bicho Raro, wants to help the pilgrims overcome their darkness through holiness and empathy. Beatriz, on the other hand, would prefer if the Sorias approached the miracle from a more logical and scientific place. And Joaquin is less interested in miracles and more interested in broadcasting rock & roll from a pirate radio station in the back of a battered box truck.

How did you come up with the name “Bicho Raro”?
I’d just finished writing the rather heavy final installment of the Raven Cycle, and I thought it would be nice to switch things up with something playful and - dare I say it? “Feel good”? Does that sound like a Stiefvater novel to you?

So I tried to be as playful in my language as I could. I figured if my words were frolicking, readers might too. “Bicho raro” (“rare bug”) is just a little way to speak fondly about odd people, like “strange bird” or “odd duck.” It’s less about the Soria family themselves and more about the varied pilgrims who come to Bicho Raro.

What inspired the novel’s setting?
Three years ago, I convinced Scholastic that instead of flying to all of my tour events for Sinner, the companion book to the Shiver trilogy, I would instead drive my 1973 Camaro to them. Seven thousand miles, coast to coast, just an American girl in a muscle car, seeing the breadbasket of our fine country while hawking a novel about burned-out werewolves - nothing could go wrong.

Spoiler: Everything went wrong. I spent my time evenly divided between meeting readers and repairing the Camaro by the side of the road.

At one point, the brakes went out (for the second time), and I coasted into an auto repair shop in Del Norte, Colorado. The sun was white, the air was dust, and the mountains were sharp as hell all around. While I waited for the mechanic to take a look at my brake lines, the receptionist told me tall tales and ghost stories about straight-arrow desert roads and demons dancing in the dust and strangers appearing in the night.

I thought to myself: This is where my next novel takes place.

What made you decide to set All the Crooked Saints in the 60s? Is there something in the history of Colorado at that time that speaks to you?
Music! Music! Music! When I was growing up in the 80s, my father always had the radio set to the Golden Oldies - I didn’t realize, in fact, that it wasn’t contemporary music. I thought Del Shannon and Patsy Cline and the Byrds were everyone’s current groove. Even after I discovered differently, it didn’t matter; that music had become the sound of my childhood. There’s something about 60s music and the 60s in general that I think pairs perfectly with a novel about the teen experience - 60s America was going through an adolescence in a lot of ways, and it was a time of mystical joy, innocence lost, increasingly uncomfortable self-awareness of the limitations of tradition, and colorful agitation for change, all of it emotional and urgent. If that’s not a description of being a teen, I don’t know what is.

I’ve been dying to write a novel steeped with the music of that time for about five years now, and for this one, it made sense. I had an incredibly grand and self-indulgent time listening to the music Joaquin and Beatriz spin in their covert broadcasts.

Your work has always been infused with aspects of magical realism. What would you say are some of your influences?
Magic! Magic! Magic! For this book in particular, Isabel Allende, Gabriel Garca Mrquez, Erick Setiawan, Ali Shaw, and maybe even John Irving - I have read a lot of wonderful magic realism and wry, intimate family stories over the last decade, and Saints is my affectionate nod to them. It was also informed by movies, though - I really wanted to capture the mood of films like Big Fish, Chocolat, and Amlie. That whimsy and magic and nostalgia. These are strange, hard times that we’re living in, and I wanted to write about magic - I always do - but I also felt like I wanted to leave readers with something that made them happy, hopeful, and excited about all the odd miracles that exist in the world and in themselves.

Of course, I have to ask one question about the upcoming Ronan trilogy. Is there anything you could tease about it?
Insert, Stiefvater said, an enigmatic smile here.

All the Crooked Saints will be available for purchase on Oct. 10.

This article was originally published on ew.com

Just 75 miles from the bustle of Washington, D.C., Shenandoah National Park is your escape to cascading waterfalls, spectacular vistas and one of the best drives on the east coast. There are 75 overlooks along the park’s Skyline Drive that offer stunning views of Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley to the west or the rolling Piedmont to the east. So roll down your windows, feel the breeze and experience every curve and turn of this beautiful drive. Photo from The Point Overlook at milepost 55 by National Park Service.

What are you vehicle magic tips?

I’m almost 40 years old and I’ve never owned a car.  As an America that doesn’t live in one of the big cities, people often think that’s weird. My bike and public transit have been my primary form of transportation even thought I have been a licensed driver since I was 16 and I rent cars from time to time.

Last week bought a car for $1 from my folks. It was made the year I graduated from high school and has been sitting for long stretches of time up at The Riverhouse for the last 5 years. It’s not too fancy as it was bought to be able to shrug off a tree falling on it. It’s had a safety check and it’s insured and stuff. I have to go finish registration things today. It’s just weird to think I have a car. It completely changes the way I’ve been thinking. Up until now getting a car has been a thing I had to plan for. Now I can just decide to drive to the coast or go camping or go and buy craft supplies on sale in the suburbs. It’s very strange.

So, do you have any car magic tips or spells you would like to share? I reblogged the few that were on my blog but I’m up for more!

broke & unemployed trans girl artist donation post

Hi everyone, I’m gearing up to drive across the country to the east coast and need to save up the money to do so. I lost my job and I’m currently living with my ex and things just aren’t great at all here so the sooner I save up the money needed to move the sooner I will be able to get out there and start my actual life. I’m doing yard work for my dad and babysitting for my sister to try to save up the money but any help would be appreciated so much. I know I had a donation post going around for a while but the donations dried up on that pretty much immediately.

My paypal email is: Jocomicsgirl@gmail.com, anything helps

Thank you all so much! If you donate and want a comic let me know and I’ll put you on the top of the list for when I get my tablet pen charger back since I don’t have any comics commissions lined up.

Oh, Baby (Namjoon x Reader) Pt. 14

[Pt 1] [Pt 2] [Pt 3] [Pt 4] [Pt 5] [Pt 6] [Pt 7] [Pt 8] [Pt 9] [Pt 10] [Pt 11] [Pt 12] [Pt 13]

Pairing: Namjoon/Rap Monster x Reader
Rating: M
Genre: Smut/Mafia-ish AU

Words: 4,676

Summary: You were only supposed to have seen him twice. Only twice, no more, but now you’re getting dragged into situations you never wished for and Namjoon just keep showing up.

A/N: :D Look, I did a thing! Thank you all for waiting patiently~ I’m literally posting this right before I leave for work, I was rushing to proof read it lol. Hopefully I didn’t miss too many mistakes :p


Black fabric mask secured over the lower half of his face, Jungkook waits tensely in a coffee shop half a block from his family’s penthouse. Its 2 minutes before noon, and his leg bounces nervously under the table, his coffee already gone cold.

Managing to get a whole of 3 hours of sleep the night prior, still too bothered with the thought of you potentially being in trouble to be able to get some shut eye, Jungkook had slipped out of the house early that morning, requesting his regular chauffeur to take him to campus a tad sooner than usual. The driver had complied, toting him half way across the city to the usual spot where Jungkook was dropped off and picked up. Jungkook then left as usual, walking towards his building, but this time he had no plan on going to class. As soon as the Jeon heir was far enough from the car which had dropped him off, he ducked into a building and watched through the old, clouded windows for the car to leave. It took a few seconds, his driver likely confused as to why Jungkook was going into that building when he usually didn’t, but luckily a car wanting to get by honked in slight anger, and the chauffer immediately placed the car in drive and coasted away as if nothing had happened.

Sighing thankfully to the impatient college driver who had honked, Jungkook waits in the building for a few long minutes. He wants to be perfectly sure that his car won’t circle back around to look for him, and when 5 minutes pass and there’s no sign of his chauffeur, Jungkook determines that he’s safe.

Nodding to himself, determination for what he now has to do settling in his gut, Jungkook shrugs his book bag off his shoulder, unzipping the main pouch. Today his normal folders and notebooks are nowhere to be found, replaced by a spare coat, hat, and a mask. Jungkook knows that his father has men stationed all over the city—maybe not on the lookout for him, since as far as they know nothing out of the ordinary is going on—but Jungkook won’t risk anything. It seems to him that his father is currently scheming with Taehyung against Namjoon, judging by the small amount of their conversation he had overheard last night, but Jungkook needs Namjoon by his side. He needs Namjoon’s friendship because right now Namjoon holds all the information Jungkook wants to know about you. And…more so…Namjoon truly isn’t too bad of a guy, in Jungkook’s eyes—better than his father, at least—and Jungkook doesn’t feel well knowing that his family is possibly working to…hurt Namjoon in some way.

So, changing his jacket, hiding his face behind a plain back mask, and tucking his hair beneath a dark blue hat, Jungkook had left the building he’d taken refuge in, walking back into the city. He didn’t want to risk a taxi or a bus, so he had braved the chilling winds and had walked the crowded streets of Seoul. After nearly 40 minutes he finally arrived at the café Namjoon had requested he wait at—the brief text containing the location arriving at just shy of 5am that morning.

And now here he is, Jeon Jungkook, eyes boring into the watch on his wrist, the second hand ticking past the 12 mark, officially meaning that it was noon. His leg continued to bounce with nervous energy, hand reaching into his pocket to check his cellphone, and as soon as the device is in his hand, it buzzes, a new text message lighting up the screen.

Unknown:

I’m stopped behind a bus at the light outside the coffee shop. Come now.

Reading the words with unsteady concentration, Jungkook quickly stands, bumping into the table as he reaches for his backpack and heads outside. Not bothering to correctly zip up his coat, the cold air immediately soaking into his skin, Jungkook glances both ways down the congested street, breaking into a jog when he spots the bus a little ways up the sidewalk, a black car with tinted windows momentarily stalled behind it.

As he approaches the car, his feet suddenly falter as he realizes that he’s currently putting himself in danger. He has no clue what’s going on right now—who he can trust and who might be hiding in the city ready to hurt him. As a Jeon he had been targeted before. Once or twice, but nothing serious. A kidnapping attempt here or there by people desperate to use him as ransom in return for monetary repayment from his father, but all attempts had been thwarted by family men—faint screams ringing in Jungkook’s ears, but he hadn’t put all the pieces together until he’d gotten a bit older.

Yet, despite the danger, Jungkook regains his stride, especially when the light in front of the bus turns green, the tinted car honking urgently. He can’t stall for much longer, and Jungkook rushes forward, pulling open the passenger door, grateful to see Namjoon occupying the driver seat.

“Christ kid, hurry it up,” Namjoon sighs as he steps on the gas, following behind the bus. Jungkook rolls his eyes, dropping his bag on the floor between his feet.

“You could have actually stopped somewhere to wait.”

“I could have, but everything feels risky nowadays,” Namjoon mumbles, eyes casting to the side. Jungkook can immediately tell how tired the older male is, dark bags hanging under his eyes, unkempt facial hair prickling his chin and upper lip.

“Hyung…,” Jungkook says, voice sympathetic yet serious. His eyes harden, heart steeling as he shifts to face Namjoon. “What’s going on? Please, you need to tell me…”

“The other day–,” Namjoon starts after a moment of hesitation, knuckles turning white around the steering wheel. “Y/N came over. I was trying to make things right after everything that had been happening. It went well, really well…,” he says with fondness, his defenses momentarily dropping, but as he continues recounting what had occurred Jungkook sees his body curl in on itself, anger staining his face.

“I got a call that morning from a client. Left Y/N to sleep because I figured I’d be right back…I asked Yoongi to check on her. He…,” Namjoon takes a moment to calm himself, throat tight, adam’s apple bobbing. “He got there and saw Y/N in Jimin’s car. Jimin somehow got into my apartment and took her. Yoongi gave chase, but…”

Stopped at another red light, Namjoon slams his fist on the dashboard, and Jungkook winces, heart sinking into his stomach.

“She’s gone?” the younger whispers, hands laying stiffly in his lap. Namjoon bites his lip, trying his best not to give into all the dark thoughts lurking in his mind.

“She is—but I’ve got people looking for her. We’re going to get her back, Kookie–,” reaching over, Namjoon places his hand on Jungkook’s knee and the younger startles, immediately batting Namjoon’s hand away, his eyes filled with rage. However, when Jungkook sees the hurt and pain on Namjoon’s face, that spark of anger dies, and he hunches over, pressing his palms to his face.

“I know this isn’t your fault, hyung…I’m sorry. I just—”

“You can blame me if it makes it easier,” Namjoon responds, dead eyes tracking the road. Jungkook shakes his head, taking a deep breath as he pushes any potential tears back into their sockets.

“I won’t blame you. I can tell that you’ve changed, Namjoon hyung. You care for Y/N, and I can tell this isn’t easy for you, so I’m sorry I reacted like that, I just…she’s my friend, you know?” Jungkook says quietly, loosely hugging his arms to his chest. “I don’t have many, and none else like her, considering father’s—”

“Right, your father,” Namjoon interrupts, suddenly remembering the reason he’d had to call Jungkook out in public to meet like this. Jungkook’s eyes widen as well, and the two males stare at each other, surprised.

“Right, right—my dad!” Jungkook recalls, eyes searching his lap as he tries to remember everything he had overheard the night before. “I—last night a guy named V showed up at our door. He told me to call him—”

“Taehyung,” Namjoon growls, swerving into a small parking lot and shifting the car into P. He can’t trust himself to continue driving calmly when he’s got all this shit on his mind—and Taehyung is not helping. Especially after he’d touched you…and now he’s apparently making ties with Jungkook’s father, which isn’t good…

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, biting his bottom lip with his teeth, his eyebrows furrowing. Last night he hadn’t been able to recall where he’d heard the name before, but pairing it with Namjoon’s reaction…

“Is that they guy who hurt Y/N? At the club?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon sighs, fingers coasting through his messy hair. Jungkook scowls.

“Right…now that I think about it, it makes sense. The guy was such a goddamn flirt—even with me—

“Taehyung is very…open,” Namjoon says cautiously, and then shakes his head, getting back to the situation at hand. “What did he say to your dad?”

“I went looking around last night because one of our maids broke a glass, and on my way back to my room I overheard my father and Taehyung talking. They…said something about…,” he furrows his eyebrows, trying to recall the faint words he’d managed to pick up on. “They mentioned a girl, your name, bait, and a ball next week. They–! They said something about another man, and how my father was glad he had trusted Taehyung’s friend, Jimin…”

“Oh, fuck,” Namjoon groans, palms dragging down his face. “Fuck–! I forgot that Taehyung and Jimin are friends, those little assholes—”

“…the person who took Y/N from your apartment—you…said his name was Jimin, right?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon grits, palms pressing into his straining eyes. “Yeah, it was Jimin. And if Taehyung got Jimin to do his dirty work and kidnap Y/N, and Taehyung is suddenly your dad’s best friend, then…”

The car falls silent, and Jungkook and Namjoon’s eyes meet.

If Taehyung and Jungkook’s father are working together against Namjoon, then—

Jungkook sees the flash of distrust that momentarily passes through Namjoon’s eyes, and while Namjoon and Jungkook have never truly been friends, the younger’s heart aches.

“Hyung—Namjoon hyung I promise I’m not against you, please,” Jungkook says, leaning over to rest his hand on Namjoon’s thigh. He can feel Namjoon’s muscles stiffen beneath him, but his face gives away nothing.

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The Sea Cliff Bridge is a balanced cantilever bridge located in the northern Illawarra region of New South Wales, Australia. 

Featuring two lanes of traffic, a cycleway and a walkway, the Sea Cliff Bridge boasts spectacular views and is a feature of the scenic Lawrence Hargrave Drive.

The Sea Cliff Bridge is one of only seven off-shore parallel to coast bridges in the world.

The bridge has been featured in many car advertisements around the world. It is also featured in the video game, Forza Horizon 3, where players can race over the bridge.

Photographer of aerial image unknown.