#I drank wine at 10 a.m.

[jamesfrain]

‘I believe I have not cried since Esher'

Of the entire episode from last Sunday (17/11), I believe the most significant moment was the sequence of scenes at the end. Cromwell's encounter with Dorothea, Wolsey's daughter, cast a shadow of doubt on Thomas, making him question his declared dedication to Cardinal Wolsey in his final moments.

This scene intrigued me, especially after seeing various interpretations on tumblr. I revisited the books and some historical resources that I think can shed light on the dynamics in that scene and the inspiration behind Hilary's writing.

As I have mentioned previously, the encounter between Cromwell and Wolsey's daughter leads Cromwell to question himself and the actions he took in support of the Cardinal.

Although Cromwell doesn't express his distress to Dorothea, he breaks down after leaving her presence. This marks the beginning of his self-doubt. In the company of Christopher and Riche, he attempts to rationalize everything he did during Wolsey's final years. In the book (TMATL), even as Riche recounts Cromwell's numerous contributions to the Cardinal, Thomas strives to remember the moments he managed Wolsey’s affairs. He articulates:

He thinks, Riche would not fault me, if I had betrayed him: what use is a fallen magnate? He says, ‘If not for me, the cardinal would have been killed in those days of his first disgrace, or if he had lived he would have lived a beggar. I put myself in hazard for him, my house and all I had. If I treated with Norfolk, it was only to speak for my master. I did not like Thomas Howard then and I do not now, and I was never his man and never will be, and if he came to me for a post as a pot boy I would not employ him.

He thinks, I tried by every means to save my master: I tried by exhortation, by prayer, and when that failed, I tried accountancy.

It is clear to me that Thomas was troubled by the possibility that he had not done everything possible to save his master. While he doubts himself, he simultaneously highlights his efforts on Wolsey's behalf, seemingly to alleviate his conscience of any accusations.

‘The girl is right. There was rank ingratitude, there was false dealing, there was perjury, defamation and theft. But I was true to Wolsey, or God strike me down.’

He says, ‘I shall go back in to Dorothea. I shall explain it to her.’ Christophe says, ‘You cannot undo what she has been believing for so long. Let it rest.

Although these parts didn't make it into the show, I believe they express his desperation.

Oh! This part disappointed me a little. While I understand they likely want to maintain the mystery surrounding Wolsey's presence, I think it would be marvelous if they included an explanation of Wolsey's absence. We have in the book:

‘I hear,’ Rafe says gently, ‘you were ill-received.’ ‘You counselled me,’ he says, ‘you and my nephew – you said, you must let the cardinal go. Whether I would or no, he was prised away from me. But I did not know he would go as far as he has gone now.’ His hand describes the space of the room. ‘I am used to his visits. I see him in my mind. I ask his advice. He is dead but I make him work.'

I appreciate how Rafe managed the situation in the show, he demonstrated genuine concern for Cromwell's state of mind. I believe many people witnessed Cromwell's efforts to save Wolsey, but unfortunately, his own thoughts are working against him.

I believe that Cromwell's doubt showed in the novel can be explained by a series of events that took place in 1529 and 1530. According to historian Diarmaid MacCulloch, Cromwell was serving two masters during this time: the King and Cardinal Wolsey. He notes:

In any case, that All Hallows’ Day (1529) Cromwell was in a highly emotional state, ‘the tears upon his cheeks’. Lamenting that he was ‘like to lose all that I have travailed for all the days of my life, for doing of my master true and diligent service’ and that he was ‘in disdain with most men for my master’s sake’, ...(Diarmaid)

I believe Hilary took inspiration from this event when in Wolf Hall we see:

If he were to give himself a piece of advice for Christmas, he'd say, leave the cardinal now or you'll be out on the streets again with the three-card trick. But he only gives advice to those who are likely to take it. (Wolf Hall)

In 1530, we will also have a series of events that put Cromwell at risk, especially regarding Wolsey's actions in the north.

Many such warnings against indiscretion and ostentation would follow, and not just from Cromwell; none was heeded. There may have been calculation in what Wolsey was attempting. To judge not merely from George Cavendish’s admiring account but also from a hostile and well-informed writer of a slightly later generation, the Archbishop of York adopted a new style calculated to build an image as a self-negating, generous Father in God: feasting the nobility and gentry, but also showing himself open to the poor; distributing alms; abandoning his horses to go on foot and greet beggars; happy ‘to say Mass many times among the common people’; and ‘whilst he sat at meat … well pleased to hear a chapter of the Old or New Testament read’. (Diarmaid)

There are signs that Cromwell felt deeply (and understandably) insecure about his own future. Despite his royal service, he had not travelled any further up the social hierarchy, to be styled ‘esquire’ rather than just ‘gentleman'. (Diarmaid)

Wolsey’s ongoing folly was not merely a matter of showing off in the North. About the time he left the Thames valley, he began putting out his own secret diplomatic feelers to Europe’s two most powerful monarchs, King François of France and Charles V, then to King Henry’s spurned Queen Katherine and Pope Clement V. (Diarmaid)

Hilary highlights this in the novel

Once more he bends his head over the cardinal's letters. Wolsey is writing to the rulers of Europe, to ask them to support him, vindicate him, fight his cause. He, Thomas Cromwell, wishes the cardinal would not, or if he must, could the encryption be more tricky? Is it not treasonable for Wolsey to urge them to obstruct the king's purpose? Henry would deem it is. The cardinal is not asking them to make war on Henry, on his behalf: he's merely asking them to withdraw their approval of a king who very much likes to be liked. He sits back in his chair, hands over his mouth, as if to disguise his opinion from himself. He thinks, I am glad I love my lord cardinal, because if I did not, and I were his enemy – let us say I am Suffolk, let us say I am Norfolk, let us say I am the king – I would be putting him on trial next week. (Wolf Hall)

August: the cardinal writes to the king, a letter full of complaint, saying that he is being hounded by his creditors, ‘wrapped in misery and dread’ – but the stories that come back are different. He is holding dinners, and inviting all the local gentry. He is dispensing charity on his old princely scale, settling lawsuits, and sweet-talking estranged husbands and wives into sharing a roof again. (Wolf Hall)

All of this shows the enormous effort Cromwell put in to help Wolsey from himself and the king's wrath.

To conclude my thoughts, I believe that Dorothea's understanding of Cromwell in the novel is shaped by the following:

George Cavendish, with his acute nose for the dynamics of Tudor Court politics, noted that Cromwell’s duties during 1530 were the real foundation of his future success: by his diplomatic attention to satisfying the greed of those battening on Wolsey’s estates, while constantly consulting with the Cardinal himself to keep the damage within bounds, ‘now began matters to work to bring Master Cromwell into estimation in such sort as was afterwards much to his increase of dignity. (Diarmaid)

Even though I believe that Gardiner is the devil behind her perception. 😈

[yanderecrazysie]

yandere bakugo! purge au? it’s time for the purge and its the perfect time to get his darling

I’ve been watching the Purge show with my little sister and we occasionally just text each other “The Giving is near, the Invisible awaits”. I love the purge movies so much, except the Forever Purge, I just didn’t like that one.

Title: 12 Hours

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, Bakugou’s scary lol

Summary: 12 hours when every crime is legal but with a twist- if you kidnap someone, they’re yours forever.

“You’re sure everything is locked down?” You asked, biting your lip nervously.

Your boyfriend smiled at you, “State of the art system. There’s nothing to worry about.”

You gave him a smile, but you followed it up with a sigh. You had a lot to worry about. You had gotten a note in the mail, two days before the purge, that read:

Dear (Y/n),

This is a notice that a Level 5 person(s) has been given permission to hold you indefinitely if you are captured during purge hours. We recommend staying inside and taking precautions to protect yourself.

Blessed be our New Founding Fathers,

NFFA Personnel.

Someone had requested permission to kidnap you forever, as long as they captured you on purge night. Who it was, you couldn’t even imagine.

Your house’s defense system was practically a joke. You didn’t have the money to get fancy equipment like everyone else had. That’s why your boyfriend, John, had offered to let you stay with him during purge night.

The thought had crossed your mind that John could be the crazy kidnapper, but you knew that he could have you any time he wanted to, so there wasn’t any point in kidnapping you.

John had an amazing security system. Not as good as, say, the NFFA members had, but still very good. You felt mostly safe to stay with him, but there was still an ounce of fear that wouldn’t go away.

You had looked up what “Level 5” meant and had discovered there were five levels of dangerous people classified for the purge. Level 1 was the lowest and, well, Level 5 was the most dangerous.

You had an extremely dangerous person after you. Who knew what they would do to you after kidnapping you? Maybe they would torture you all year long.

Your boyfriend turned on the TV and, a few moments later, the announcement played.

“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Weapons of class four and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. All other weapons are restricted. 

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m. when the purge concludes. 

“Blessed be our new founding fathers and America... A nation reborn. May God be with you all.”

Even through the metal shutters, you could hear the sirens start. Your breath hitched in your throat.

“We’re in for a quiet evening, don’t worry,” John said, putting a comforting arm around your shoulder, “Should we get the wine out?”

“Yes, please,” you said shakily.

Your boyfriend walked over to the cabinets and pulled out a bottle of wine and a couple cups. He poured a generous amount of liquid into both cups and handed you one. You drank all of it in one go.

John laughed and refilled your cup, “It’s only 12 hours. That’s it.”

“12 hours is a long time,” you muttered, “A lot can happen in half a day.”

Ten hours passed uneventfully, the two of you watching the only channel that wasn’t showing highlights of the purge from cameras set up around the country or talking about the history of purging.

On the eleventh hour, someone knocked on the door. You froze in your seat, breath hitching in your throat from horror. Your boyfriend stood up, “It’s okay, no one can get in. I’ll check the front door camera.”

He checked the camera and smiled, “See, they moved o-”

The power went out. 

A beeping sound filled the house and then the scraping of metal as the shutters began to rise. The security system had been disabled and was reversing itself.

Even in the dim light, you could see that your boyfriend had gone pale, messing with the system frantically to try to reset it. 

Finally, he turned to you and said, “Get in the closet. I’ve got a gun and I’ll deal with anyone that comes inside.”

You were crying at that point, but you managed to nod. You ran to the closet and hurriedly closed it behind you. You pulled some clothes down from the rack and tried to use them to cover yourself. There was no lock, so you were absolutely toast if anyone looked inside.

You could hear the door open loudly, as though someone had kicked it open. Your ears strained, listening for any hint that your boyfriend would be okay.

A gunshot rang through the house and you hoped it was from your boyfriend’s gun and not the intruder’s. A loud, husky laugh followed the sound, “Nice try, extra.”

You covered your mouth as the sound of an automatic gun’s famous ratatata followed. You knew John only had a pistol. No doubt your boyfriend had just died. 

“Y/n”, I know you’re in here,” the voice said loudly, almost playfully, “Might as well come out now, so I don’t waste time trying to find you.”

You had less than an hour left. If you could just stall him until the 12 hours were up, maybe you’d make it out alive. 

Your breath hitched again as he came into the bedroom and you closed your eyes.

“Not under the bed. What about the closet?” You could hear the smirk in the intruder’s voice.

The closet door flew open and the clothes were pulled off of you. You looked up helplessly at the wild-haired blonde with blood red eyes as he crouched in front of you. He took your wrist in a crushing grip, grinning at you with victory, and hauled you up off the floor.

“C’mon, we only have one hour to get you home. Had to deal with a lot of shit tonight. But I’m sure your boy toy’s car will help us out, won’t it, baby?” 

You hadn’t made it the whole 12 hours. 

Your life was in his hands.

[podraje]

It's sunday. I: slept until 10 a.m, drank wine, baked a pumpking cake while re-watching Gravity Falls and I'm heading to the church soon. Will eat my cake after it chilled 🧡🎃

[squadron-goals]

Wartime conditions

30.10.16

At 10 a.m., Hauptmann Bökelmann summoned us to Bohain for a meeting. He explained our task to us. It consists largely of establishing connections and obtaining news quickly. First we should orient ourselves on the battlefield. We have to check the connection, ask the combat troops for news and requests, see which areas are particularly under fire, check strengths and weaknesses, and request reinforcements on our own in the event of an attack. We have carrier pigeons, telephones, signallers and light signals at our disposal. If there are urgent calls, our messages go first. In any case, I am becoming more and more comfortable with my task; it is interesting, independent, dangerous and perhaps also grateful. As personal support I have two non-commissioned officers and four men, all of whom have bicycles. As news, he told us that barrage requests would be communicated by yellow floating bullets, "advance fire" by red bullets. In the evening the gentlemen of the 1st battalion met at the place of the assistant doctor Köppen. There were so few that everything fit around a round table. As always before battles, the mood was extremely cheerful.

31.10.16

Today I had a beautiful example of the unity of the French civil society. My host came to me and showed me some wounds that his neighbor had inflicted on him. He also grabbed him by the throat and shouted “Demande pardon”. I wrote the good monsieur Lemaire a letter of complaint in French to Captain Sesselberg. For lunch today we had pancakes and then played Doppelkopf.

1.11.16

In the evening we played a Doppelkopf and celebrated Heilmann's birthday with champagne, cognac and an excellent dinner. We became very cheerful as the evening progressed and went to the ensign's quarters, where we said a lot of stupid things to the landlady.

2.11.16

In the evening we drank a lot of wine with Lieutenant Dreckmann, the leader of our big baggage. On the way home, Lieutenant Wiese wanted to visit a madam and was led to a house in front of which there was a huge racket. Suddenly Wiese realized that he was standing in front of his own quarters. Amid the angry shout: "I won't live in the regimental brothel" and the roaring laughter of those around him, he left to look for new quarters that same night. Boje knocked on the door of a certain Madame "la poule" and of course made such a noise that the door was not opened for him. With an angry "je vous laisserai punir (I will punish you)" he left the inhospitable place and conspired to put at least 20 men in the Madame's quarters the next morning. These are wartime conditions.

3.11.16

Today there was another scout troop meeting with Hauptmann Bökelmann. I got 3 very good maps, including one from Combles with every bit of the trench noted. The cannons were booming particularly loudly on the Somme front today, it sounds as if a huge number of heavy trucks were rolling along in the distance. In the evening we witnessed a wild scene. In the 2nd company, a wild corps seems to have come together, from the company commander to the ensign. I am writing from house number 26. Boje en Chemise. A nice pit of sin this Brancourt. Heilmann knocked continuously on house 6 until a human voice came from a bed: "Well, go away soon, this will soon become too annoying for me!"

4.11.16

The next morning general community activities. "There is order here." Here the comb is with the butter. Appetizing thing! In the evening we drank a huge punch with a whole bottle of rum. I only had the strength to throw myself into the ensign's bed, where I woke up at 7:30 with a pounding head. I went to my quarters. When I woke up I had a very unpleasant sensation. This time it would be even less pleasant "Malborough is not in the war. Malheur! Malheur!" [Jünger feared that he had gotten syphilis]

7.11.16

Last night we received news that we will probably be leaving tomorrow morning. At 9 o'clock we left in automobiles. I made several crosses at the exit of the village. Before we left, the chief medical officer came and made a lot of crude jokes. I rode in the staff car with Hauptmann Sesselberg and the adjutant and was therefore very soon at our destination, Gonelieu, 25 km from Brancourt. We officers from the 2nd have a room with a fireplace, into which we put the furniture. We had our first casualty while chopping wood. Ahrberg hacked with his hatchet when Lieutenant Schlösser called out to him, "Careful, not in the foot." The accident had already happened and Ahrberg had split his right big toe deeply. He was immediately bandaged, which we did with our chewing mouths. In peacetime, one would certainly not have continued to eat breakfast if one had seen such a sight. Tomorrow evening 76 and 164 will take over from our predecessors at Sailly. Our regiment remains at the rear as an army reserve for the time being. I will ask Bökelmann tomorrow about my special orders.

[aaronburrdaily]

September 6, 1809

It is three days since I have written you. What is on t'other side this leaf was probably intended for Sunday the 3d. On Monday went to hunt vessels. Baron Wetterstedt made a friendly visit. Dinner, wattn och bru. Tea l'apresmidi¹ which, as usual, kept me awake all night. The bank will give out no more silver or gold. With difficulty I got the value of 2 dollars. Hosack called in the afternoon with invitation from Captain Barry to dine with him on board his ship to-morrow. This morning, too, (Monday), I had a visit, unexpected; unsolicited; not unwelcome; 1 rix dollar. Tuesday. Got up late, and, for reasons unknown, in very bad order. Heated, nerves tremor; no appetite for breakfast, which is unusual. Went abroad, however, at 11. Called on Baron Engerström; out. On Mr. Brooks. At 1 to Captain Van Alen's quarters to go with him to Barry's. There were five Americans and three Englishmen. About 5 P. M. came in Major Nordforss et ux. and M'lle (Fruka² being noble) ———; both handsome; the latter an air of delicacy, &c; the former very lively and speaking French and Spanish. After coffee went with them to a house and garden of their relation about a mile lower down. The garden is extremely picturesque and being on that lofty ridge which bounds the harbour on the right, elevated about 150 feet above the water, affords as fine a view as Morsebaka. Gathered fruits; much romping and coquetry. Went home with Madame N. and engaged to see her at 12 to-morrow. Home at 8. Mr. Dorrell, one of the Englishmen, engages me to dine with him to-morrow. On getting home found all my maladies exceedingly increased. A very quick pulse, agitation of nerves, and burning hot, though the weather is quite cold, and I had drunk very little wine. Withal, a sort of exaltation of tête,³ which altogether distressed me exceedingly; pains in every bone. The family of d' Aries are in the country. Mr. Gransbom out. No means of explanation with old Anna. Not a lime, or lemon, or anything else to be had at this hour. Ordered hot water and Sw. trinka,⁴ of which with sugar drank copiously, but no relief; though lay in bed, exceedingly restless. Took thirteen drops of laudanum, the greatest dose I ever took; and finding sleep quite out of the question, got up, dressed, and read a long, dull comedie, "Le Jaloux",⁵ 120 pages, close print. About 2 A.M. a little relieved. Went to bed; slept about four hours and got up well. There prevails in this city a malignant fever, which frequently has carried off persons in two or three days. Having been often in the quarter most infected with this disease, no doubt I had caught it, and I have given you this detail to show how very slightly any such disease can affect me. I disclosed to no one that I was sick. A sick man is a very contemptible animal. Owing to very temperate habits, my constitution affords no pabulum to such diseases.

6. Rose at 7. At 10 to d'Albedÿhll's; out. To General d'Helvig's; out. At 12 to Madame Nordforss. Staid an hour. Ne soutint la 2me Vu.⁶; engaged to go with her to the play to-morrow evening. At 2 to Hosack's to get him to show me to Worrell's, who is at lodgings. We were at table five Americans, two English, and five Swedish, among the latter a merchant from Nordkeeping⁷ of prepossessing appearance; a brother of Bergström, also merchant; a Finland merchant. Came off at 1/2 p. 5, the guests appearing disposed to drink al'angloise. Was engaged to tea with Madame Daily, but did not go, being out of order. Passed the evening in reading and projecting my intended journey. Called on Baron Engerström to-day. He offered me letters to Prussia, where he had resided as minister.

1 For l'après-midi. Afternoon. 2 For Swedish Fröken. Lady. Formerly this title was applied to an unmarried lady of noble birth. In later times it is synonymous with English Miss or German Fräulein. 3 The head. 4 For svagdricka. Small or weak beer. 5 "The Jealous Man." 6 Probably for [elle] ne soutint [pas] la deuxième vue. She didn't appear so well on a second view. 7 For Norrköping!

[twotexansituscany2023]

Day Sixteen - Saturdy, April 8

I am writing this last blog day on our flight from Rome to Dallas/Ft Worth. Laura and I and two of our friends woke up early this morning (at 3:45 a.m.) and took a car service to the Florence airport for our 6:35 a.m. flight from Florence to Rome.

Upon arrival in Rome, after a short layover, we boarded our 12 hour non-stop flght from Rome to DFW. So far, we are on schedule to arrive in Texas around 3 p.m. on Saturday afternoon.

What a great trip we had! Laura and I had our "country mouse" visit for the first part of our trip and then our "city mouse" visit for the last part of our trip. Both were great experiences.

What did we learn?

1. The roads as windy and steep in the country.

2. All of the Italians that we met were very friendly and accomodating. All of them are incredible wine experts and most in hospitality are sommeliers.

3. We did have some fabulous meals, but we always had great conversations with our servers, the cooks and the other restaurant patrons. Most dinners took 2 - 2.5 hours, which was still very enjoyable.

4. Italian drivers are very impatient and drive very fast. I tried to stay within the speed limit most of the time, but I was always the one car being passed up.

5. The wines are good. We tasted a variety of different wines, most made with sangiovese grapes, which is a red wine grape, most similar to pinot noir. We drank (1) Vino Nobile di Montepulciano, which is made near the hill town of Montepulciano, (2) Chianti Classico (made near Florence); (3) Brunello di Montalcino, which is made near the hill town of Montalcino (4) Barolo and (5) Super Tuscans from the Bolgheri region. The Super Tuscans are similar to a French Bordeaux blend and were my favorites. We also drank some chardonnays that had a similar style to the French Burgundy region (not buttery or oaky).

6. We walked everywhere in the cities, especially Florence. It is a very walkable city and not hilly at all in the city center. We only took one taxi the entire trip and that was only because I had wrong directions in Florence and we walked about 1.5 miles out of the way.

7. You should not have a rental car in Florence. You should have a rental car in the countryside.

8. Our apartment was in one of the best locations in Florence, right in the middle of most shopping and most restaurants. Only one time did we have to walk more than 20 minutes to a restuarant or a store.

9. The food was relatively bland and not very spicy, which did surprise me. I thought I remembered a little more flavor in the food from my previous trips to Italy. Of course, it could have been what I ordered. This was not the case in the finer restaurants or our cooking class.

10. I hope you enjoyed reading our blog. I primarily write this blog so that we will remember where we stayed, where we ate and what we did. I hope to supplement this blog with some pictures and may insert a link to a separate site where I can post pictures with captions.

From just 2 simple Texans in Tuscany, we write, Arrivederci!

[everybodyscupoftea]

can’t help falling in love with you

college isaac  x reader

christmas movies and cuddles with a hint of falling in love along the way

okay so the timeline is like they met in the fall, got together the next spring, and this is the christmas after. so like they’ve been dating 9-10 months

it’s 5 a.m. hahaha fuck. it’s a 4+1 format though!

(warnings: cursing, drinking, zero editing)

You had two problems.

The first was something you noticed early on. It was Isaac’s tendency to make himself small. Maybe not physically, but it was like he hated being too needy. You weren’t sure if it was because he thought it would bother you or if it was just a habit of trying to not take up much space, but you wanted to get to the root of it.

It took you a few weeks to figure out how to bring it up, and you really only did because of his reaction to a goodbye hug. You squeezed him tight when he left, and he full body shivered. Pulling away quickly, you gave him a concerned look, “Everything okay, did I hurt you?”

He smiled wryly and shook his head, “I’m good. Just needed a hug more than I realized.”

You’d had suspicions that physical touch was pretty high up on his preferred love languages, but he’d never said anything about it, and he kept his personal space relatively well, so you’d pushed the thought away. Maybe you should’ve just pressed it anyway.

That afternoon you promised yourself that you were going to be better. If he was too scared to ask, you wouldn’t make him, you’d just look for it more. Luckily, it was pretty obvious when he needed it.

The second was Isaac’s lack of experience with holiday movies. One afternoon, the two of you met for lunch between your classes. It was almost finals week and you’d started listening to Christmas music for the serotonin boost.

“You know,” you started when he sat down across from you, “Carol of the Bells hits so nice when you’re speed walking across campus. Reminds me of Home Alone and I feel like I can do anything.”

He hummed thoughtfully, nodding along, “Yeah, I bet.”

“You know what I’m talking about right?”

Isaac shrugged, “No, but I believe you.”

Your jaw dropped, “You’ve never seen Home Alone?”

“I never really watched Christmas movies growing up. We didn’t really do much of anything for the holidays. My dad worked a lot and my mom wasn’t there either.”

He avoided your eyes, and your heart sank. Over the months of dating, he’d pointedly avoided talking about his family. You weren’t really upset, it was his business and you figured he’d tell you when he felt comfortable, but the little references made you sad when he made them.

“We should watch some this year. It’s like a family tradition at my house to watch a bunch leading up to Christmas.”

You couldn’t help but notice his face soften a bit at the word family, and you were determined to make this first Christmas together great.

One: Klaus

Isaac cooked dinner, spaghetti and meatballs, with little to no help from you. Your greatest contribution was easily keeping his wine glass topped off. He was beautiful, face flushed from the heat coming off the stove and from the alcohol, and you couldn’t help but poke his cheek, giggling at the disgruntled face gave you.

“Cute,” you told him, pinching his cheek gently.

“Stop distracting me and put the garlic bread in the oven.”

“Yes sir.”

Rolling his eyes at your reply, Isaac turned the eye under the pasta off and took the pot off to drain it over the sink. Before pouring, he took a clean mug out of the dish drainer and scooped out some of the water.

“What’s that for?”

“Always save pasta water for your sauce,” he answered, pouring the rest out. 

Steam billowed up in his face and you laughed, “Nice facial I bet.”

“Felt great,” he deadpanned, turning back with the strainer full of spaghetti noodles.

Nodding enthusiastically, “I was gonna suggest face masks for tonight, but you might be fine without.”

“No,” he was quick to correct, “I still want a mask.”

Chuckling, you held your hands up, “Fine with me. We can put them on before the movie.”

“Thought we were going to eat while the movie is on.”

“No, I haven’t seen this one before so I want to give it my full focus.”

Isaac shrugged, used to your weird requests, and went back to focusing on the food. You hoped he would hurry, you were hungry and you didn’t want to drink anymore until you had some food in your system.

After what felt like forever, he flipped the stove off and pulled the garlic bread out of the oven. He handed you a plate, “Want to fix yours first?”

“No, you cooked, I’ll go second.”

Bending down, he pressed a kiss to your temple, and stepped away to start piling food onto his plate. You filled yours after and followed him over to the couch where he was sitting, waiting on you to start eating. 

“You could’ve started.”

“Wanted to wait, it’s polite.”

You rolled your eyes, “Guess chivalry isn’t dead.”

“Damn straight.”

-

“Okay but you really do need moisturizer,” you told him after he dried his face post-mask.

“Skin feels fine,” he told you, stroking his cheek a few times.

You sighed, knocking his hand away, and rubbed moisturizer in, ignoring the face he made in response. When you finished, you grabbed the hand you’d knocked away and pulled him back to the couch to start the movie.

“Dishes?” Isaac asked, sounding a little worried.

“Later, I’m ready for the movie.”

“You’re going to fall asleep, wine makes you tired,” he warned.

“Never.”

You pushed him down first and tried to position him the way you wanted. After a few seconds, and some amused looks from Isaac, you sat down on the couch, leaning your back against his chest, both of you’s legs stretched out across the couch.

Isaac always ran warm, and you tilted your head, pressing the side of your face into his chest to see the TV. He huffed out a laugh, “Comfy?”

“Very. Can you hit play, pretty please?”

He did and the movie started. It wasn’t noticeable how tense he’d been when you first laid down, but as time ticked on and he got more into the movie, Isaac relaxed. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, fingers pushing your shirt up and stroking rhythmically over the exposed stripe of skin on your hip.

You couldn’t stop the shiver and his chest rumbled with a laugh. Grabbing the hem of his shirt, you tugged gently, wrinkling your nose at the image on screen, “Bet those fish smell bad.”

“Bet she smells bad.”

Pausing for a second to think, you said, “You know, that whole town gives onion vibes.”

“Onion vibes?”

“I feel like it reeks. Bad vibes equals onion smell.”

Isaac laughed, tilting his head down to brush a kiss across your hairline, “Can’t argue with that logic.”

“Furthermore,” you held a finger up to emphasize your point, and he snorted, “it feels musty right? Like I bet it feels damp.”

“Well it is covered in snow.”

“But like, humid almost. Dank, maybe?”

Humming, he answered, “I think I know what you mean.”

You watched as the main character convinced the kids to pay him to send their letters with a frown, “I’m not sure how...ethical that is.”

“The evils of a capitalist society,” he said, and you nodded, chin hitting his collarbone.

“Ouch,” you muttered, rubbing it. Isaac brushed over your chin gently as if to soothe the pain before he brought it back down to your hip.

His warmth combined with the blanket covering the two of you, the wine you’d drank, and the movie playing quietly in the background lulled you to sleep, just like Isaac predicted. The music startled you awake once, eyes fluttering as you watched the sleigh almost teeter off the edge of a cliff, but his rhythmic breathing knocked you back out.

It didn’t seem like much longer later when Isaac squeezed your hip playfully, waking you back up fully.

“Gotta do the dishes, sweetheart, let me up.”

Yawning, you reluctantly sat up, stretching, “I’ll help.”

“You can go to bed, I’ll be there in twenty.”

“No, you cooked, I’ll help.”

He chuckled as you stumbled, reaching for his hand in your half asleep state. The kitchen light woke you up fully when he flipped it on, and you blinked a few times, bumping your hip playfully into his when he took up all the space in front of the sink.

“I’ll wash, you dry,” he told you, handing over a dish towel.

“Fine.”

It took less than 20 minutes with both of you working, and he held his hands out for you to grab after turning the water off. You took them and let him pull you through the living room to your bedroom. 

Pulling the covers back, both of you climbed into bed. He brushed some hair out of your face and kissed you gently, trailing his lips across your cheek to your forehead where he moved back to whisper, “Goodnight, lovely.”

Two: A Christmas Story

The weather was miserable and you felt so bad for dragging Isaac out in it. It wasn’t quite cold enough for snow, an unusual “warm” snap, but it was cold enough for the rain to leave a deep chill in your bones.

“Fuck,” he muttered, shivering, “we should get some coffee on the way home.”

“Yeah, something warm sounds fantastic right now.”

He drove to the nearest drive-thru near your apartment, and you cradled the latte to your chest as he drove the rest of the way home. The rain picked up as soon as he parked and you sighed, “Wanna run for it?”

Isaac nodded, “I guess. We can always change.”

Unfortunately, there were no close spots near your building, so both of you ran, splashing through puddles carelessly, just wanting to get out of the rain as fast as possible. He laughed at your disgruntled face, and you wrinkled your nose, “Gonna be miserable for the rest of the day.”

“You won’t. We’ll crank the heat up and watch a movie. Didn’t you have a list?”

“I do,” you brightened considerably, “we should watch A Christmas Story. It’s my dad’s favorite.”

“Deal.”

The inside of your apartment was dark and cold, and you flipped on a lamp, shivering. He walked to the thermostat, and you went to your room to dig through the drawers for clothes. Isaac walked in soon after you and you handed him a pair of his sweatpants and a sweater.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, starting to struggle with his wet jeans. 

You snorted at his frustrated face, “Told you to just wear sweats.”

“Never,” he swore, “only in the comfort of my home.”

“Oh,” you teased, “you consider this home?”

“Of course,” he answered, eyes looking slightly watery, “you’re home.”

Your smile softened and you held your arms open for him to walk into. Squeezing you in a tight hug, Isaac buried his face into your hair. You mumbled, “Good, because you’re my home too.”

He pulled back and started shimmying out of his jeans again. You were finished changing way before he was and sat on the edge of your bed to wait. There was a furrow between his eyebrows as he finally kicked his jeans off, and you stood to grab the pile of wet clothes to wash.

“Start up my laptop and we can watch the movie,” you told him, pulling the door shut behind you in case your roommate was home.

You started the laundry and walked back to your room, sipping the latte you’d left in the kitchen on your way in. Isaac was scrolling through your movies when you walked back in the room, propped up against your pillows, blanket over his lap.

The rain had picked up again outside, beating against the window near your bed, and you sat down next to Isaac, his arm coming up to wrap around your shoulder.

“Ready?” he asked, hovering over the movie title.

“Born ready.”

Isaac hit play and you rested your head on his shoulder, legs crossed in front of you. You couldn’t drink your coffee at the angle your head was tilted against his shoulder, but you liked feeling him laugh too much to care if it was going cold.

His arm around your shoulder went limp as he fully relaxed into the movie. At the tire changing scene, Isaac snorted, “Well isn’t this relatable.”

Biting your lip, you winced, “Sorry.”

“All good, hon. Not upset, a little funny even.”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, “If you say so.”

Isaac’s other hand dropped to hold yours that was closest to him, and you smiled as he brought it up to his face to kiss the back of it. You squeezed his hand and laced your fingers together.

“You know,” you interrupted, “hand holding is the most underrated way to show affection.”

He hummed, “I think I agree.”

“You like holding my hand?” you asked, cheeky smile on your face.

“I do.”

“Good. Now you’re obligated to keep holding my hand forever.”

“Forever, huh? You sure you want to keep me around that long?”

Untangling your hand from his, you held out your pinky, “Promise, bub.”

He linked his pinky with yours and shook it. Before you could say anything else, he tapped your nose, “Now hush, I’m trying to watch the movie.”

Scrunching your nose, you grabbed his hand again, “Don’t shush me.”

“I thought you wanted me to watch this.”

“I do.”

“You’re distracting me.”

You huffed, “Fine. Just rewind.”

Isaac snorted and did as you asked, leaning back against the pillows when he finished. Cuddling back into his side, you couldn’t help the little sigh of happiness that escaped.

Three: Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Isaac had apparently been having trouble sleeping. It took you a few days to notice, but he came over for dinner one night and the bags under his eyes were incredibly pronounced. 

“Hey, everything okay?”

He sighed, “Scott and Stiles went home so the apartment has been lonesome to say the least.”

“Bad dreams?” asking was a tossup, you were unsure whether he’d actually be forthcoming with the details he was usually so tight-lipped about.

You were unsure if it was because of the lack of sleep or he just decided to let you in, with a hum, he answered, “Yeah, this time of year isn’t the greatest. Everyone’s with their family and I’m just alone.”

Nodding, you held a hand out for him to take, “You know, one of my comfort movies is on the list of holiday movies, if you want to try it out.”

“I’d like that. I like learning about your comfort things, makes me feel closer to you.”

You smiled, “I’d like to learn more about yours someday.”

“You will,” he said so matter of factly that you believed him.

He let you pull him over to the couch and sat down normally, legs out in front of him. You put the movie in the DVD player and sat next to him, stretching your legs across his lap. 

“You know,” you told him as the snowman started talking, “I kinda forgot what the fuck happens in this movie.”

“I thought it was your comfort movie.”

“It is. I watched it a lot as a kid with my sister.”

Looking thoughtful, he went quiet and started watching again. 

“The island of misfit toys,” he said, chin resting on his hand, elbow propped on your shin, “kind of dark for a kids movie.”

You laughed, “Just wait.”

Not too much longer later, he flinched as Yukon fell over the cliff, “The fuck?!”

“It’s alright, Isaac,” you told him, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

Pouting, he slumped forward fully on your legs and pressed his head into your hand. You took the hint and started running your hand through it, scratching his scalp gently. His chin stayed resting on your shin as he finished the movie out.

“I can see why it’s your comfort movie. Happy ending, familiar tale, and a little bit of romance.”

“Yeah. My mom used to play it while we decorated the Christmas tree.”

“You’re a big traditions person, huh?”

“Definitely,” you confirmed, “something to look forward to.”

“My dad wasn’t around much,” Isaac confided, “and when he was, he was mean. I wish I had siblings, but my mom left before she could have another one.”

“Have you talked to your dad much since moving?”

His laugh was humorless, “Fortunately, no. I moved and I left for good. I have no interest in going back to Beacon Hills.”

“So that’s why you decided to stay, huh?”

“Rather stay here with you than go someplace to see people not worth my time.”

“Do you ever talk to your family members?”

“No. I don’t think I’ve ever really forgiven my mom for abandoning me, and my dad is a lost cause. I lived with a guy named Argent for a while after my dad kicked me out, but he’s been abroad since I left for school.”

“How’d you know him?”

“His daughter Allison was my good friend. She’s at school abroad.”

You paused your scratching and cradled his chin, turning his face to look at you, “So you’d go if they were still in Beacon Hills?”

Isaac frowned, “Maybe.”

“Family is important, no matter if it’s blood or not.”

“I guess that’s kind of a moral in Rudolph isn’t it.”

You laughed, “Yeah, I guess it is.”

He sat up and leaned forward to kiss you. When he pulled away, Isaac smiled, “Thanks for listening to me.”

“Thanks for opening up.”

Four: Elf

“Okay but how often do they have free drive-in,” you pleaded, “and it’s a Christmas movie, and they’re giving out eggnog.”

“Personally, not a huge fan of eggnog.”

“Hot chocolate too.”

He paused, “You might get me with the hot chocolate.”

You snorted, “Well, you don’t have much time to decide because it starts in two hours.”

Inhaling sharply, he stood, “Let’s go.”

“Yes!” you cheered, grabbing two blankets off the couch to bring for when he turned the car off.

“It’s going to be cold, sweetheart,” he warned, looking at your leggings and hoodie.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Mhmm,” he raised his eyebrows, “we’ll see if you say so in an hour.”

-

It was cold, and part of you didn’t want to admit how cold you were, but eventually the shivers won out and you smiled sheepishly at Isaac, “Can you turn the car on?”

“Nope,” he popped the p, “I did warn you.”

You pouted and he rolled his eyes, an amused look on his face. After a few seconds, he lifted the console up and slid across the seat, arm out for you to squeeze close.

“Thanks, bud,” you told him gratefully as the movie started.

“I think I have a sweater in the back seat,” he offered.

“Nah, it’ll be cold anyway.”

He nodded and wrapped the blanket around you, “Offer’s open.”

Isaac was a movie talker, not that you ever minded, you were too, but you could tell he really liked Elf because he barely spoke the whole time.

Leaning into his side warmed you up, and you watched silently, aimlessly playing with his hoodie strings.

“I know it’s not the most prominent theme in these holiday movies,” he said, “it seems that shit dads are pretty common. Like, Merry Christmas to you and all your daddy issues.”

“Oh my god,” you snorted, “I guess you’re not wrong. You elbowed him, “Merry Christmas to you and all your daddy issues.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he told you, kissing your cheek, “I’d rather be here with daddy issues than be in Beacon Hills with a dad.”

Clapping a hand over your mouth, you laughed loudly, “I’m not sure if that’s the truth, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“It’s true. You do mean the most to me.”

Your eyes widened, “Wow, I love you too.”

Isaac’s cheeks turned red and he jumped in surprise at the sudden yelling on screen. You pinched his cheek, and the best way you could describe the look in his eyes was fond. He sighed, “I don’t-”

“Don’t worry,” you reassured, “I know.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“Too good? Nah. You deserve all the good things.”

“So,” he trailed off mischievously, “if I deserve good things, does that mean we can eat only from the four main food groups for the rest of the break?”

“What?” you were lost.

“Candy, candy canes, candy corn, and syrup.”

“Fuck no. I know that you’re joking because I think the lack of cooking would do you in, but I still can’t stand the thought.”

Isaac laughed, “No, I wouldn’t, but I do really like this one.”

“Good. More found family content.”

“It is a theme.”

“The best theme.”

“I know you aren’t the most fond of reading, but I have some books really heavy on found families that I think you’d really like.”

It wasn’t the first time Isaac had recommended you books before, and you hadn’t ever taken them, but you’d thought, with all the opening up he’d been doing, the least you could do was take a suggestion.

“Give me a list, I’ll check some out.”

He smiled softly at you and squeezed your hand, “I will.”

Plus One: Home Alone

Isaac stumbled out of the Uber, and waited for you to climb out, “Come on, babe,” he slurred when you took a few seconds.

“Coming, can’t find my phone,” you told him, patting around the backseat.

“I’ve got it in my pocket,” he told you.

“Oh, shit, okay.”

He threw an arm around you and the two of you walked toward his apartment, “Fucking hell, they spiked the fuck out of that cider.”

You giggled, “To be fair, we both had a lot.”

“We did.” Isaac fumbled with the keys and managed to get his door unlocked after a minute of missing the keyhole. He grinned proudly, “Let’s fucking go.”

“Wow, a genius,” you mocked and he rolled his eyes.

“Just go change so we can watch a movie.”

Luckily, you and Isaac were both floor people when drunk. You went into his bathroom to take off all your makeup and change, and by the time you finished, he was flipping through TV channels and laying on a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor.

“ABC Family probably has a movie on.”

And when he managed to find the channel, Home Alone was playing. Isaac squinted at it, “I think I’ve seen this one.”

“It’s my favorite,” you gushed.

“We’ll watch it then. Lemme go change.”

Isaac left and you slumped back on the blankets, eyes shutting a few times as a wave of tiredness hit you. On screen Kevin screamed, and you jumped, waking up fully as Isaac flopped down next to you.

He laughed, “Comfy?”

“Could be better,” you answered, pulling at him until you could lay your head on his chest. He laughed and you tossed a leg over his. When you finally stopped squirming, you poked his chest, “Now I’m good.”

“What if I’m not comfy?”

“Tough.”

Isaac snorted, “I guess I’ll just deal.”

“Thanks for your service, bro.”

He focused on the screen, “How are these assholes not dead?”

You blinked a few times, trying to focus, “I don’t know actually. Like I would’ve just wanted to die after a certain amount of pain, right?”

“Head on fire? I’m noping right out of that. Fuck the houses.”

“Absolutely, hit me on the head with an iron and I’m gone.”

Isaac laughed, “Weak pain tolerance for the win.”

He picked up his hand and held it up limply, you picked yours up to high five him. It was sloppy and you missed most of his hand, but he grabbed it and refused to let it go. Kissing it sloppily, you smiled at him.

“Sap,” you teased.

“Only for you, of course.”

“Of course, I’d hope so.”

He fell asleep pretty soon after, and you took a minute to reflect. For a while into your relationship, Isaac refused to sleep over. You weren’t sure why, and it kind of hurt your feelings at the start. Eventually he did, but he always waited until you fell asleep first.

Home Alone played in the background softly as he slept, eyelashes fluttering, and you smiled at him. You traced over his cheekbones and across his brow bone, pausing when he made a face before tapping his nose.

“Stop,” he mumbled.

“No.”

You pulled him closer and entwined your legs with his. He huffed, “What if I have to pee.”

“Hold it, I’m trapping you here.”

“You can’t trap me, I’m bigger than you.”

“You can carry me if you must.”

He hummed, “Fine. Hopefully I don’t drop you.”

“You won’t,” you told him, confidently.

“Oh yeah, you trust me that much?”

“Mhmm, obviously,” you tapped his lip.

Nipping at your fingers, he laughed, “Why?”

“Because you love me, you wouldn’t hurt me.”

He froze under your fingertips, and you stayed quiet to let him work through it. Tracing mindlessly, you smiled at him, his brows furrowed.

“I do,” he spoke eventually, “I do love you.”

Your eyes filled up and you bit your lip, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, because I love you too.”

“Good.”

~

day five of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: holiday movies

[the-deeds-to-shibden]

Monday 15 June 1840

[up at] 7 3/4

[to bed at] 12 1/4

very fine morning breakfast at 9 55/.. in about an hour – marcheroutes the 3 on 1 sheet

from Tiflis to Redout Kalé 336 1/2 versts at ./3 silver per horse = 42/. silver  16 stages

from ____ to Nachitchevan 379 1/2 at ./2 silver            “      “     = 45/54  “     15    “

from ____ by Signac hot Telaff (Cakhétie) at ./2 silver “     “      = 18/48  “       6    “

gave the man 4 silver roubles as before but this time the paper is sealed as well as signed by the Director (directeur-chef-) des postes – strangers should always so provide themselves – sat reading Dubois till about 12 3/4 – Ann and I out at 1 – called chez Madame Bésoc – il n’y avait personne – did not leave cards – then to Madame Orloff – the General de retour – very civil – will write to the Colonel (our Colonel) at Koutaïs – and order us to have Cossacks and horses and all we want – our Cossack will not be back of 3 or 4 das or more, but will give us another – but the general and Madame Orloff very civil and kind – then chez Mr. Bésoc again – personne – then sauntered near while sent George to ask if Madame Golovin was at home – on the point of going out – carriage at the door – bien des excuses – asked to dine tomorrow – R[epondez] S[i’l] V[ous] P[lait] – will go – in walking forwards (sent George to ask Mr. Braïko for permission to see the old church of Metek tomorrow) to try to find Abasabad the square where Haji Youssef lives (to see about the Armenian inteprète) met at 1 40/.. General and Madame Scallon en voiture à 4 chevaux – coming to call on us – ask us to dine with them at 3 – no company – would send the droshky – accepted – walked forwards – could not find the place – home at 2 20/.. – wrote notes left for George to take to Madame Golovin accepting her invitation to dinner for tomorrow and to General Braïko fixing 11 a.m. tomorrow to see the church – read a little – had my hair done, and dusted my shoes and put on grey shawl over silk dress without velvet pelisse and put on black Terneau /Ternaux/ cachemire over it and off at 3 20/.. (the droshky had waited 3 or 4 minutes)  an officer of gendarmerie and his Georgian wife dined there – had the Greek plat  – also a Georgian plat and called here Domla – had coffee in the garden – and sat (the general and the officer smoked) there till off at 6 20/.. in the calêche and 4 to the German colony (Tiflis colony) 3 or 4 versts off – beautiful evening – the sun too much in our faces in going – ordered tea chez le chef (the elder) of the colony and went to see the fabrique de soie – the worms on 3 tiers of tables mounted one on the other like the Shibden china-closet tables – apparently very healthy – in the large room of the logement of the superintendent – only wanted about 2 months in the year – much excrement – little black specks – this cleaned away and all the old leaves every 3 or 4 days – then walked in the garden – women culprits do the work of the silk – at a little distance is the largeish brick pile (eastern like) low  no window seen – but several staircases opening upon the roofs – counting house of the Mod-dje, Persian Mahometan bishop – doctor – head of the Persian Mohametan mosques hereabouts (only one mosque in Tiflis with its 60,000 inhabitants, said general Scallon) – it was his haram that Madame Chwostoff once proposed taking us to see – but afterwards said nothing about – he is a refugee from Persia – the garden here wants water – too much labour to pump it from the river – the Persian has made a canal from the river (Kour) 10 versts off which bring water to his garden and he has promised water to the government garden – one could take a lodging chez our German in whose garden we drank tea   Mr. Scallon had brought bread and sponge biscuits and tea and sugar the people furnished the semovar and butter and a light sort of red wine made from their garden   we were not far beyond the church – neat plain yellow-washed building – Mr. Scallon protestant – his family emigrated from France (at the abolition of the Edict of Nantes) to Sweden and thence to Russia – Scallon and his father born in Siberia, at Omsk – his father and grandfather commanded the Russian troops there – In the garden, we had talked of Dubois’s work, and the new French consul – they had charged him 21/. assignats for a poulet at Stavropol, and he had complained to the governor – he is rich – was a Deputé at the last revolution – is not a republican, but is still du côté gauche – not much to do here – about 8 Frenchmen settled within reach of Tiflis – he lodges at present at a German campagne near or in the colony – or just out of it – on the Tiflis side - saw the Scallon-carriages – a britchka we might have at the price it cost – 400/. silver at Charkoff – a great many carossiers there – but the calêche we were in had made many thousand versts without wanting a single repair – cost 3200/. assignats at St. Petersburg – asked for the address of the carossier – we talked of our English reform bill, and ourselves being conservatives – remarkable how little fell from Scallon to shew his own mind au fond – Ann fell asleep as we sat under treillage of wines – Madame Scallon saying they were nearer than we, they alighted at home and then sent us home – opportunity to give the footman 2/. silver not lost – the manservant of the house let us in on our return at 8 3/4 – our servants returned at 9 20/.. – very fine day – beautiful evening – had just written so far now at 11 1/2 p.m. at which hour Reaumur 19° and Fahrenheit 75°    found answer from General Braiko that all would be ready for us at 11 a.m. tomorrow – we are to have Madame Scallon’s droshky –

Anne’s marginal notes:

V (for visit)

N N (for two notes)

Tiflis. 60,000 inhabitants

the Persian bishop

General Scallon’s origin

General Scallon’s calêche. Charkoff

WYAS pages:  SH:7/ML/E/24/0127      SH:7/ML/E/24/0128

[clan-sayeed-fic]

Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Warnings: smut  Rating: Mature Author's note:  I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

It's my first attempt at writing smut, so I'm hoping that this won't make you feel uncomfortable or anything. (I'm talking here about more smut than in the previous chapters)

~ 2400 words

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

Chapter 12

"Oh my god, you lived here for three weeks now?!" Lily couldn't believe what she saw when Amy finished giving her a tour of Kamilah's penthouse. The office and bedroom were left out of it, of course.

"Most of the time," Amy smiled, seeing her best friend's reaction. "But wait, didn't you live with Adrian Raines, the richest man in New York?"

"I guess I did," Lily laughed. "So, how long will it be before the tough vampire comes back?" She loved giving Kamilah new nicknames, which the woman by herself, hated a lot.

"She said that we have all night," Amy answered. "I asked her to stay and celebrate with us, but I guess she had some business to attend for tonight," they both laughed meaningfully.

It was the night of Amy's reunion with Lily.

It has been nearly a week since the Council meeting. Lily finished her training session. And even if she was still considered to be the newly-turned vampire, she was fully trained and ready to stop living under supervision.

Kamilah agreed on inviting Lily to her penthouse since both girls wanted to celebrate their victory in the voting and Lily joining Clan Raines.

Kamilah was still mad at Amy's reckless action at the meeting when she decided to make a deal with Adam without telling anyone about that. Mostly because of that, she didn't want to take part in their celebration.

The fact they didn't hear anything from Adam. And that he didn't decide what favor should he want from Amy made Kamilah both: relieved and unsure.

***

Kamilah intended to spend the night at Raines Corps since they both with Adrian had a lot of work to do.

"Aren't you afraid that they will ruin your penthouse?" Adrian laughed, surprised that Kamilah even agreed on this party.

"I'm trying my best to not think about it, Adrian," she scowled at him.

"I'm just joking," Adrian lifted his arms in a gesture of surrender." By the way, I have something interesting to tell you."

"It can wait after we deal with your Company's problem," Kamilah wanted to get straight to business.

After Lily's training, they both had to reschedule important meetings, which had its effect on their work. Kamilah needed to stabilize matters in her career first before moving to more private problems.

"As you wish," Adrian knew when he should step back when it went to Kamilah's mood.

***

"Are you kidding me? She let you talk to her while she was working?" Lily almost spat out the wine that she just drank.

"Well, I didn't ask," Amy laughed, blushing when they started the conversation about Kamilah. "You know how stubborn I can be."

"I do, but," Lily tried to find the right words. It was a hard thing to do since she was already a little drunk. "But, girl. When we were training, and she had business to do, she would look at me with her eyes saying: If you let out a breath, I will kill you."

Amy was slightly light-headed at this point. They were sitting together for one and a half hours and almost drunk 2 bottles of wine. She felt warmth spreading over her body. Amy didn't know if the alcohol was responsible for that reaction, or the possibility, that Kamilah could like her.

"Oh damn," Lily looked into her friend's eyes, knowing that look. "You do like her!"

Amy had already told her the truth that Kamilah never rejected her at Priya's party. That she had to make up this story. And after that, Lily saw them in the training hall standing close together, looking into each other's eyes. And now, the way Amy's appearance changed, since they started the topic about Kamilah, made Lily find a solution to this puzzle.

"I do not," Amy buried her face in her hands to hide her blushing cheeks and by this motion, denying her own words.

"This is so exciting," Lily stood up and got another bottle of wine. "We need to celebrate!"

"We are celebrating," Amy couldn't stop a laugh.

"We will celebrate more," Lily turned up the music.

It seemed like there was no end to the night.

***

3 a.m.

"So, what you're telling me," Kamilah tried to focus and keep calm. "Is that Amy was lying to us the whole time?"

Adrian told her about the trouble which Amy made in his building the day Lily was turned. His assistant Nicole found out more pieces of information about Amy's past and shared them with him. There was a slight possibility that Nicole was lying, so Adrian made sure to have verified information before sharing the news with Kamilah.

"I'm pretty sure that she had her reason," he tried to defend the girl. "Clearly, she is not Amy Cambell, or at least she wasn't forever," Adrian couldn't find words to describe this situation without making Amy look back. "I don't want to tell you anything more. She needs a chance to explain that by herself."

"Why would she?" Kamilah was mostly talking to herself at this point. "She had plenty of time to do so, but she didn't."

Kamilah felt tricked. She let this girl live under her protection, and still, she kept a huge secret from her. It wasn't like Kamilah didn't have secrets on her own. But she, at least, didn't lie about her identity. Cause if someones lies about such thing, what worse should she expect?

"Give her a chance," Adrian begged. "I have never seen you this happy since Gaius. No one had this effect on you for like a century." He wanted the best for his closest friend, but at the same time, he didn't want to see her get hurt again.

"I," Kamilah wanted to deny, but she knew that it was useless, Adrian knew her too well.

Then, her phone rang. She found a few new messages from Amy. But they didn't look like the ones from her. There were a lot of mistakes, weird words, shortcuts that Kamilah didn't even understand.

A lot of emojis and silly words.

And she kept texting and texting.

"Oh dear," Kamilah touched her forehead and showed her phone to Adrian.

"I guess the party is going well," he laughed.

"Please," Kamilah looked at him with pleading eyes, unusual for her.

"Okay, I will drive there with you," he kept on laughing until Kamilah gave him a sharp look.

***

Kamilah could hear loud music from her garage from the moment she left her car. She looked in Adrian's direction when he did the same.

"I will deal with it," the woman ensured. "Be prepared for Lily," she took a deep breath, "in bad shape."

"Don't harm her," Adrian burst out laughing.

Kamilah faked a smile to him before walking into the elevator.

When she was on the right floor, she already knew that the view would certainly not make her happy. It was dark and incredibly loud, she stopped the impulse to cover her ears.

While Kamilah was moving inside the flat, she saw plenty of empty bottles of different types of alcohol that were on the floor. She kept walking and saw a colossal mess in the living room. Everything was removed from the table and shelves. On the floor were laying clothes, and mostly trash with food.

Then, she heard girls who were singing to the music and dancing on the dining table. They were more like screaming than singing, but that wasn't the most significant part.

The girls were drinking champagne directly from the bottles between the lines of the song. They were both glowing from sweat, their faces were blushed from dancing and laughing.

Lily was wearing a tight, and short, black dress when Amy was dancing there in her black jeans and only in her red bra. Her shirt was laying someplace on the floor.

Kamilah decided to stop this chaos. She walked to the radio and turned off the music. Sweet silence filled the room.

The girl's kept singing for a second longer before realizing that the music went silent. Then, they both stopped dancing, sharing confused looks.

"Oh," Lily laughed, noticing the woman who stood in the living room with her arms crossed. "Kamilah, please, come to dance... with..." she took a sip of alcohol before saying another word, "us."

Amy laughed with her, acting like she said something funny.

Kamilah turned on the light, regretting it momentarily because, after that, she saw the mess around more clearly.

"The party is over," she said without emotions.

"Nooo," they both looked like sad puppies.

"Lily," Kamilah behaved like she didn't notice their protest, "Adrian is waiting for you in the garage. Would you like to be this kind and go to him by yourself? Or do you require my help?''

Lily, as a vampire, could drink more than humans without getting drunk. She wasn't sober for sure, but still, she was in a better condition than Amy.

Let's say that she was sober enough to understand Kamilah's tone and obey her without a struggle.

She hung her head in shame and left without a word, leaving the woman with her best friend alone.

Kamilah didn't even bother to look in Lily's direction. Instead, she kept staring at Amy's confused and disappointed face.

"Priya was right," Amy mumbled, "you are no fun for real."

The girl tried to get off the table, but she had trouble keeping her balance. So, when she finally stood on the floor, her head was spinning enough to make her stumble.

Kamilah got to her immediately, taking advantage of her vampire speed and not letting the girl fall. She grabbed Amy by her wrist and waist, steadying her body. Amy smiled softly and brought the bottle near her mouth, trying to take another sip.

"You have had enough," Kamilah stopped her by taking the bottle from her hand to put it aside, out of her reach.

Amy purred like a kitten when Kamilah increased grip on her waist while letting go of her wrist for a second. The woman looked at Amy with curiosity in her eyes.

"You are..." Amy said, "gorgeous." Her eyes shined, from both, excess of alcohol and secret desire.

Kamilah couldn't help the feeling in her core since everything was heightened for her. She felt the heat running from the bare skin of Amy's waist, through her hand to the rest of Kamilah's body.

The woman could scent both: girl's perfume, and arousal. The only thing she wasn't sure about was which one was more intense.

They stood quiet for a moment, close to each other. During those long seconds, Amy's breath increased, and the same happened with her heartbeat. Finally, Kamilah broke the silence, speaking in her husky voice.

"And you are completely drunk," she inhaled deeply, trying to keep her self-control. But it became even harder to achieve when Amy's scent hit her twice as strong as before.

"I thought," Amy laughed, but her eyes stared at Kamilah's, teasingly, "that I am adorable, am I not?"

Amy reached for Kamilah's straight hair, which fell onto her face.

"Don't," Kamilah tried to stop her, but despite a hint of hesitation, Amy's hand moved closer to her face.

That was too much for the woman. She grabbed Amy's hand. And before the girl could even understand what was happening, she was pressed against the wall.

Kamilah's body close, her eyes full of desire.

Amy's hands were pinned above her head. She tried to take them down, but Kamilah was too strong for that. For some reason, Amy started to laugh and writhe under her closeness.

"Do you consider it funny?" Kamilah asked with her eyebrow raised, she couldn't get enough of this stubborn human.

"Your hair..." Amy smiled, "it's tickling."

Kamilah's face was this close to Amy's that her hair was falling on her breasts, partly covered by the underwear. Kamilah's mouth moved closer to Amy's ear when she leaned down.

"May I show you something better than a tickle?" She whispered in her intoxicating voice.

Amy wanted to laugh again, under the influence of alcohol. But her laugh became a soft moan escaping her mouth when Kamilah's knee pressed between her thighs.

"Kamilah..." she let out a sigh of pleasure.

"Oh," Kamilah backed away her face to look into Amy's eyes with a smirk, "you're not laughing now?"

The woman didn't wait for the answer, pressing her knee harder. It made Amy arch back, trying to break her hands from Kamilah's grip.

The heat was growing between Amy's thighs, making her close her eyes for a second. When she opened them, they were glowing light, showing its golden color. That made Kamilah smile amused.

"Someone got excited," she spoke as she let go of Amy's hands, and to Kamilah's appreciation, she kept them above her head on her own. "Good girl," this time, Kamilah didn't correct herself.

She wanted to call Amy that way. And it was crystal clear that Amy liked it since she became wetter and was already pushing her hips to add pressure to where she needed it the most.

"Not so fast," Kamilah removed her knee from between Amy's thighs, making her scowl.

Then, Kamilah lifted her body, and Amy instinctively wrapped her legs around the woman's waist. To steady herself, Amy placed her hands behind her neck. Kamilah's hands were keeping Amy in place, laying under her thighs.

They looked into each other's eyes, both filled with desire.

Amy's glowing gold, Kamilah's red.

Heavy panting was the only sound in the apartment.

Amy looked from Kamilah's eyes to her full lips while biting her own bottom lip. Kamilah let out a soft moan at this sight which turned her on more than anything at this point.

When their eyes met again, a hint of hesitation appeared in Amy's mind. It made her sober up for a moment.

"Wait," her voice lacking its previous confidence, "I..." Amy tried to make a sentence, but that was unbelievable hard since she was the one who started all of it.

Kamilah understood what was going on in a flash. She wouldn't take advantage of Amy. She was surprised for herself that it even got this far.

She didn't like losing control, and that was what happened this night.

Kamilah put her down gently and left to the office without another word. 

Amy stood alone against the wall with a feeling of guilt growing in her chest.

Next chapter: 13

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

tag list: @onyxgaytrash, @lightning-fury, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @caliseds

[magnesiaandlemonjuice]

Friday 8 December 1826

7 35/60

11 1/2

In my salon at 8 1/4 -

my bowels pretty well this morning but not quite moved as they should be

rearranged my fire - dusted my room - the porter ought to do it - but somehow it never gets done as it ought to be - finished dressing - all which took me till 9 3/4 - then settled my accounts and got down to breakfast at 10 25/60 - our butter woman came with fruit - would make me buy a panier of reynettes du Canada - asked 2/50 - I would not have them - at last gave her 2/. and desired her never to bring fruit any more for I did not like her apples - not good - several little bad ones - would never buy fruit of hers again - was just returning to my breakfast at 10 55/60 when Mrs Barlow came - had not slept all last night thinking of what I had said -

that providence always ordered best for us and that I was glad I had not had a free choice explained that I did I not quite express myself thus but spoke generally without alluding to anything in particular told her I was annoyed at her so always perverting my words she cried a good deal could not help loving me too much at last we stood up and pressed each other she saying she did it for my sake we sat down I begged to feel her she said I should think ill

off her I declared not she let me feel her over her clothes ssaying I should make her as bad as myself we were both excited it was after twleve [sic] I proposed her going into my bedroom while I rang for george to take the things away she went but my aunt was at the water closet and she could not pass in coming back my aunt saw and she was obliged to go to her so our amatory schemes have been disappointed for this time I see I shall have her by and by

Mrs Barlow went to my aunt at 12 10/60 - I then wrote the last 13 lines which took me till 12 35/60 -

Mrs B came back to me in five minutes from this time she sat by me on the sofa then on my knee she let me put my hand to her and I soon put up the middle finger of my right hand as formerly she leaning back on the sofa back opening her legs and giving me fair play on pressing much against the orifice of the womb she said I hurt her the ice was now broken she said she had only twice before felt excited that is the last time just before I left her her at own

haute and once before - she asked for a little wine looking rather fagged I gave her my bottle that [Pi - Mariana] and I had at boulogne she asked if anyone but myself drank out of it I evaded by saying the bottle was entirely my own she tasted but thought the little white beaune that remained in it sour I then gave her two teaspoonfuls of lavender drops in a little water which she drank very composedly - on withdrawing my finger from her found it all bloody it was too soon for her to be unwell asked if I had hurt her but she declared not -

went out with Mrs Barlow at 1 40/60 - she had something to pay at Michel’s - I had a while to eat something - I had a hot (cold) stale, paté and a stale tartelet - both bad - then went to the rue neuve de Luxembourg and took a fiacre and went to Mrs Barlow’s banker, Mallet, rue rue de la Chaussée-d'Antin No 13, thence to Perrier le jeune rue neuve des petits champs No 44, an excellent shop for merinos, silks, linens, etc. etc. some time there - Mrs Barlow bought black Levantine and marceline for a pelisse (cloak) for Jane etc. and I bought a cotton tablecloth and some cloth for glasscloths and dishcloths thence to Quai Voltaire got there at 3 40/60 having had own fiacre 1 3/4 hour -

I had my hand up her petticoats going to mallets and afterwards my finger up it was bloody she wiped it with her pocket handkerchief and I let her alone till we got home she then complained of being tired and lay down we had the door fast and I put my finger up again again bloody and I washed my hands but afterward kept my hand to her all the while feeling her tho not with my finger up she said pressing (the neck of the womb) hurt her much she felt it all up into her left side she could not bear to come down to me as she used to do she should do better another time she had suffered there where I had pressed after I left her to return to england her aunt had made her go to dupuytren but he was then gone to the coronation thought I to myself is it possible that I had hurt her there the ice is broken she will have no more misgivings I told her how much bettter I loved her after it than before hoped she would be more comfortable perhaps she might in body but not in mind I said she would drive me to distraction if she made herself so unhappy we were no worse than before she said I was not at all to blame it was all her fault now she ought to be able to take care of herself said she was mine once again she had now given the power out of her own hands and I should have my own way in future said I should be constant yet when you want anyone now you will come to me said I would not go merely for an animal want it should be from affection she asked me for her letters she to keep mine they were all she had left she had no journal besides mine were much less warm than hers I had been accustomed to write in this way she had not and I should never write to her so again I said the best thing would be for us both to burn our letters no she did not like to burn mine they should be quite safe I said I equally longed to keep hers ah said she you do not like to trust me I denied this but would do as she liked yet could not bring her her letters just now did I want to copy any parts of them no no said I I have not time besides I have all I wish in my journal I kissed her bade her not be unhappy promised to go to her on Friday and came away -

Left Mrs Barlow at 5 35/60 and got home in 20 minutes - the man brought the tablecloth etc. - Dinner at 6 1/2 - Came into the salon at 7 50/60 wrote the last 36 lines which took me till 9 1/2 -

I have had no time to think over what has passed today Mrs B is now in fact my mistress she told me today she believed I loved her because she loved me certainly her tears and love have so far overcome me I have done more from pity and to please her than myself I certainly would not have her she would not suit me and I often think how to get rid of her I am really attached to [Pi - Mariana] I must leave Mrs B sooner or later and would give much to be out of the scrape tho I know not how to get out I almost wish to be off besides I am afraid of hurting Mrs B and I really do more to gratify her passions than my own little as she does or would like to suspect this

came to my room at 10 1/4 - very fine day - [O one dot, marking discharge] -

[Margin - F51o at 8 1/4 a.m. 55 - 1 1/2 p.m. 53 - 8 - 57 1/2 - 10 1/4 -]

SH:7/ML/E/10/0027 and  SH:7/ML/E/10/0028

[anne-lister-adventures]

Tuesday, 14 April 1840

8 10/’’

12 1/4

Ready for Domna in an hour yet did not sit down to breakfast till 10 – Over at 10 3/4 – Damp disagreeable dull morning – Umbreallas[umbrellas] up between 8 and 9 – Reaumur 9º at 8 1/2 a.m. our room becomes gradually rather better aired and warmer but still we are very cold – Our fingers 1/2 dead and ourselves only made comfortable by the hot tea – 

Sat down to read Dubois’s Caucasus III Description of Tiflis – Then came Mr. ___ de la parte de Madame Galovin quite a young man about 12 and sat about an hour and he was just gone when Mr. de Braïko called and sat till 1 3/4 – Talked to both of Persia Mr. ___ seemed to think it easy enough if we could bear riding and heat – 

Madame G-[Golovin] has been at Erivan – There we should get interpreters and proper people to go with us – From here to Teheran (voyage calculé) = 1 month – The Shah not at Teheran – At Ispahan and the Russian Ambassador there – A Russian Consul at Tabris – Good map of the Caucasus and of Persia to be had of the Etat Major here – Madame G-[Golovin] a little indisposed – Sore throat – Does not go out at present – To have her carriage tomorrow at 12, and said we would go there the 1st thing to make her acquaintance – 

Mr. de B-[Braïko] very civil and intelligent – Asked us to dine on Thursday at 3 p.m. – His wife only speaks Russian and a little German but his daughter speaks French – He has been 4 years here – 

General Mikhail Grigoryevich Brayko. (Image Source)

General Grabble commands at Stavropol but it seems General Galovin commands the whole district and General Grabble, too, is under him ∴[therefore] one should complain to General Galovin of our Commandant at Ekaterinograd – 

Very little Trade here now and everything very dear – Now that it is no longer a free port the Trade of Persia except a little with Tabris has left it, and goes to Trebizond the English manufacturers better and cheaper than the Russian – Nothing here but Russian things from the Fair at Nijni and those not the best – some Persian Termalamas but not particularly good – Turquoises &c. &c. all those go to Trebizond – 

40º of heat here Tiflis in the summer but the climate fine in Spring and Autumn – Can go very well from here to Kutaïs – In the District of Guriel, not far from there near the Turkish frontier an English family settled, occupied in Agriculture – Can go very well from here to Baku and from there to Derbend – But between D-[Derbend] and Kislar[Kizlyar] (Daghestan) the nest of the Brigands – The Russians cannot go to cut wood without an escort of 50 men and a piece of canon – 

Hoffman just opposite our hotel and his beau fils Hein or some such name that we passed last night the best carriage menders – No difficulty in mending here – But difficult to find a new equipage to buy – A colony of Germans about 30 houses in the Town, near the river – Sometimes have rooms to let – Another colony just out of the Town 1/2 v.[verst] from here in a direct line, on the other side the river, but only one bridge over the river ∴[therefore] almost a German mile to go round about to get to the place – 

The people poor – The country poor hereabouts – Very poor in legumes, and these and meat very dear – Tho’ the employés are paid Rubles d’argent instead of assignats, they are little better off, everything so dear – Veal seldom to be had except of the German colonists – 

The hot sulphurous baths here très mal propres – Most of them modern – Some old ones du temps des Tzars – The physician here is at the hospital 4 v.[versts] off – At the village of Dalooghi? (vide p.[page] 162) – Dr. …….. he is particularly clever in maladies des yeux – The maladie of eyes (les yeux qui crêvent) now too prevalent among the soldiers in the Crimée is as I have suspected opthalmia[ophthalmia] – Maladie said Monsieur de B-[Braïko] attrapée en France and brought there by the soldiers from Egypt – Very contagious – But nothing of the kind here – Besides, they have now learnt the manner of treating it – Apply leeches and raw meat immediately to allay la chaleur – And these means early applied are generally sufficient – 

The Post a month en route from here to St. P-[Petersburg] very few travellers pass this way – The Count de St. Pyeux? was here for a few days 2 or 3 or one or two years ago – The road over the mountains bad and when the Great Lavine (avalanche) falls (every 6 or 7 years) it blocks it up for months and there is no communication between this side and the other – I mentioned galleries as over the Simplon and Splugen – Yes! But here great falls of stones with the snow – I said those would slip off as well as the snow – But the cost would be enormous, and Georgia already cost enormously and paid very little –

As for the Persian trade it seems there is not much here – At Astracan they said it was here on account of the free port – Here they say it is at Trebizond since the loss of the privilege of free port – In fact, there is not much trade with Persia, nor with China except for tea – Russia will by and by supply herself – In fact, she does now well enough, without much need of Persians or Chinese unless they would take more of her fabriques in return – I have just written so far now at 2 1/2 – The Emperor was here in October 1837 – The weather so bad, and the boue (mud) so terrible he could not sortir en voiture, but was always (went everywhere) à cheval – 

Began to think of dinner – asked George if there was trout – No! What did he pay for the cutlets they had on arriving - -/80 per portion i.e. /25 less than the Restauranteur asked me (he asked 40 S.[Silver] K.[Kopek] = 1/05) – These from the master of our house – Not at home – Sent for some fresh eggs – 10 for -/40 always assignats as usual when Silver not named – At 3 1/2 A-[Ann] and I sat down to 3 eggs each and the remainder of our Brügen given Astracan red wine still good and the remainder of our bottle of Donskoi still very good – We tasted 1st time the excellent gingerbread the Prince de Georgie gave us at Nijni and drank his health – We had kept it par sentiment to eat in his Georgia – In 3/4 hour we had had our frugal meal and enjoyed it – The eggs = -/24 not quite 3d.[shillings] English and the spirit of wine to boil the eggs and the wine was worth perhaps about 3d.[shillings] more what we ate of gingerbread a luxe inoui might be worth 6d.[shillings] – We could not have dined better –

A-[Ann] lay down on the sofa – Still cold – The stove fire gone out, and when at its utmost does little towards warming our room – She sleeps as I write now at 4 50/’’ and I return to my book – Account of Tiflis – Dubois III p.[page] 225 et seq. Mr. B-[Braïko] said this morning 3 battalions of Infantry here = 2000 men – But with Artillery Cavalry and all sorts there are about 5000 troops here – 

The fortress midway the steep high rocky mountain West of the Town is now a prison pour les forçats (galley slaves – convicts) – Reading – Tea over at 8 1/2 – eating our stewed plums, and sat over it longish – Then at Dubois again – Had Domna from 10 10/’’ to 10 1/2 – Before and after till 11 40/’’ reading – 

A view of Tiflis (c.1868) by Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazóvski.

Have read during the day from p.[page] 225 to p.[page] 343 vol.[volume] 3 Dubois – 1st description of Tiflis – Lastly of Erivan – The Palace of the Sirdar (Viceroy) now the palace of the Governor General must indeed be worth seeing – 

Damp disagreeable partly rainy day – All mud and dirt – Impossible to stir out in comfort even when it was fair –

 [symbols in the margin of the page:]         ✓         ✓         +          +

[in the margin of the page:]            Persia

[in the margin of the page:]            the Persian trade now gone to Trebizond Tiflis no longer a free port.

[in the margin of the page:]            English family in Guriel

[in the margin of the page:]            Maladie des yeux qui crêvent. Method of cure. Dr. …

[in the margin of the page:]            Dinner

[in the margin of the page:]            Troops at Tiflis

Page References: SH:7/ML/E/24/0084 and SH:7/ML/E/24/0085

[wasalwaysagreatpickle]

Saturday 3 October 1829

8 1/2

11 55/..

Wrote the last 5 lines of crypt while Cameron did my hair – went out at 10 – met Lady Stuart and Miss in the carriage returning – breakfast at 10 1/4 – met Lady Gordon and the children with Mrs Steffens and we all with them, all went to see a manufacture des drapes (there from 11 10/.. to 12 10/.. just an hour) the most considerable in the town – Lady Stuart afterwards drove home and Miss Hobart and I went to Lady Gordon’s – she settled the bills paying me 232 francs in addition to the 100 thalers I had from her on setting off, and 50 thalers more on returning (at Cologne?) – 

She abated the twenty four silver groschen and the half francs on changing it into french money thus abating three and half francs how different from me who always pay the utter most farthing of what is due and generally more

Home at 1 1/2 – all sat talking – Lady Gordon went out for 1/2 hour in the carriage with Lady Stuart and Miss Hobart I walked to a shop or 2 – 

Bought fer de berlin earrings to give Lady Gordon and a ceinture apiece for Lady Stuart and Miss Hobart – 

All the party seated at the table d’hôte we got back at 3, so went into the room as we were – only Blatchfords, Lady Gordon and our baron and Mr Carter – the latter cousin to the captain Butler who travelled with Norcliffe – talked a good deal to him – 

Not much sad about Norcliffe but somehow I fancy Mr Butler does not like him much – 

Left the dining room at 4 1/4 – coffee and all drove to the café on the Louisberg – ordered dinner there for tomorrow at 4 for 6 at 2 thalers a head including 4 bottles of good wine – Desired to have coffee and ice afterwards – Lady Stuart to pay 4 francs and the 2 Gordons and Miss Hobart 5/. each; and, of course, I meant to pay the rest, as I had asked them to breakfast at the pump-room, and this fell through –

Then drove to Tivoli, Miss Hobart not having been there, and got to Lady Gordon’s at 6 1/2 – drank tea there – the children danced – then Lady Gordon and Miss Hobart sang – and I read the first 35pp journal of a naturalist 1 volume octavo 15/.  3rd or 4th edition – amusing enough – young Wombwell had lent it to the Gordons – 

Home at 9 1/4 – all stood talking till came to my room at 10 3/4 – wrote the above of today – fine day but colder than yesterday and threatening rain a shower while we were at the manufactory and heavy shower just after 9 1/4 a.m. –

[waterturnsback]

good morning

Sunsets captivate me more than sunrises. Of course, that’s by design: I’m never awake to watch the sunset, and even if I am, I’m still asleep, usually at an airport. That’s not typically a good time to soak in the dawn.

One of my favorite self-improvement myths over the past few years has been the idea of finally finding a routine. More specifically, I constantly sell myself on the concept that I can be an early riser, despite years of proof that points to the contrary. If I wake up at 6 every day, I tell myself, I can clear my mind of extraneous tasks before I log in to work at 9. I can work out. I can get fresh air. I can read. I can check off the items on my to-do list that exist mostly to be checked off.

That’s the theory. In practice, I snooze through a couple alarms and pull myself out of bed by 8 — in the worst-case scenario, it’s 8:55 — and pound three cups of coffee while thinking about all of the things I wanted to get done before my day started and whether I would still want to do those things by the time 5 p.m. rolls around. Usually, the answer is no.

I’m not sure why I woke up at 2:57 a.m. today. I ran last night, drank two glasses of wine (Franzia cabernet sauvignon) with dinner and took melatonin. I napped for an hour yesterday afternoon, but I was still tired, and since my air conditioning was fixed, I had been able to sleep through the night. The new eye mask helped, too.

I held out for 4 a.m. I needed to make it that far. The dumb podcast did not help me fall back asleep, so as soon as 4:10 hit, I got up, put on coffee and sat in the chair next to the window and read a chapter of We Were Eight Years In Power: An American Tragedy by Ta-Nehisi Coates and then read a feature in The Washington Post about a $20 hamburger at a restaurant in D.C. that I will never visit.

The texture of the sky was starting to change. The blue was starting to lighten, and traces of pink were starting to be reflected on the bricks of the building across the street. I threw on gym shorts and a t-shirt, poured coffee into the to-go mug I have used once since the pandemic started in March and left my apartment (without a mask, whoops) at 5:35 a.m. I can’t remember ever leaving earlier on my own volition.

I thought about heading west to Baldwin Park to watch the sunset reflect off the skyline while facing south, but my legs took me to Broad Street, and I went to the Rail Park. Philadelphia wants the Rail Park to be its answer to the High Line. It is not quite there yet, but maybe some day. Still, its elevated platform offers a different perspective.

Dunkin’ Donuts was open. At the intersection of Broad and Spring Garden, no cars passed heading east or west during one light cycle.

I sat and watched the light change off the ugly new construction condos that are in the neighborhood. I thought about the lofts in the building across from the Rail Park. The morning light looks good. A couple weeks ago, I walked by on Callowhill Street and made a note of the management company. I have its website open in a tab on Chrome on my phone, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to see how much a rent costs.

A plane came in low on its descent to Philadelphia International Airport, followed by another. The sprinklers were running in the flower beds, and I could hear them over Cupid Deluxe in my earbuds.

I’m not sure if I will get anything substantial done today. It has not been a smooth week, and I don’t believe five hours of sleep foreshadows much. But it is 7 a.m. When I push the blue ‘post’ button, I will have checked off the sixth task on my to-do list, all of which are rather unnecessary but have become habits. I forgot today was Wednesday for a moment.

Tomorrow, the pendulum will probably overcompensate and swing back the opposite direction. I’ll wake up at 9:06 a.m. with myriad push alerts on my phone. I’ll immediately be behind. I won’t get the extraneous tasks done before I log in. The routine will await again.

[your-qtineadventures]

Qtine Journal 1

April 10, 2020

It's day ??? of quarantine and I’ve decided to wake up before 11 a.m. I have no classes today so I could be sleeping in but it's a beautiful day, and I think I need to enjoy it. I had to check my daily tik toks sent to me by the tik tok connoisseur herself, my cousin Ana Maria.

✮And here was my morning favorite: https://vm.tiktok.com/nPMvcj/

After watching my morning tik toks I got up and made breakfast and decided to eat it while relaxing by my pool, which I have not done once since being home. After eating breakfast and scrolling through tik tok -which has bec0me my new worst habit- I found out that there are museums and aquariums offering virtual tours during the quarantine. I have always wanted to go to the Georgia Aquarium and had planned to visit it on my way back to school after spring break, however, I did NOT get to do that! Now, I’m really not sure if I will even be able to go on my way back in May, so this virtual tour is the next best thing. I definitely recommend visiting this aquarium online, because even though it’s not as great as being there in person, it is something to do. I can’t believe I watched the Jellies Cam for an hour!

✮Here is a screenshot I managed to take after I realized the time...

The rest of my day went on as usual (for the quarantine), I continued to sit in the sun and burned to a crisp… and then I very unsuccessfully tried working out, which I realized was not the smartest idea after frying myself in the sun! My night was a little more interesting and kind of exciting. My parents and I hosted a group facetime call with my Canadian family, my aunt’s birthday is on April 1st and given the date she normally has quite the interesting birthday celebration. Due to the quarantine she was unable to see the family and had to celebrate her birthday alone. To make up for that we all decided to jump on facetime and host a “Poor Sue Party”, we laughed and drank some wine to celebrate, and it was great seeing family even if it was just through a videocam.

✮ Enjoy these pictures from the rest of the day’s shenanigans including the disastrous but hilarious group facetime…

[stephenjaymorrisblog]

Love In Hell

By Stephen Jay Morris

Monday, February 25, 2019

©Scientific Morality

 It was the Summer of ‘69 and I was all of 15 years old. Life, at that point, had become a major exploration trip.  I’ve laid out the details of that summer in my manuscript entitled, “Hidden in the Rotunda.”  This article focuses on one Monday, that of July 28, 1969.

 I went to my first Love In at Griffith Park, which took place at the popular “Merry-Go-Round” area, in 1969.  During the Summer of Love, back in 1967, there had been a Love In at this exact location.  By that time, the term “Love In” was laughably passé.  About 500 people had shown up, clad in their head shop-slash-thrift shop, chic clothing, posing for the news media.  The gathering was comprised mostly of art fart types who hadn’t had enough time to grow their hair long.  But some of them had long sideburns and the females were sporting Carnaby Street fashions on their svelte, white bodies.  Groovy, baby!  

A couple of years later—1969—the unwashed masses amassed in this hilly, city park.  Not only did the so-called Hippies show up, but there were also Bikers, Chicano gang bangers, homeless people, Krishna devotees, drum circle freaks, Anti War activists, Black Panthers, and New Left activists.  It was an outdoor party and it was freaking me out, man!  Oh, yes—the pigs (cops) showed up in full riot dress.

I don’t recall how I initially found out about this event. Maybe it was through an ad in the L.A. Free Press, or a friend had told me about it.  In any case, I went.  It was summer vacation and what better way to spend it than by going to my very first Love In!?  I asked my friend, Philip, if he wanted to go, but his parents said “No!”  My parents?  I just told my mom I was going to visit my friend and I’d be back in time for dinner. What I didn’t tell her was that I’d be with a few thousand friends!  My dad, well he couldn’t give a rat’s ass about what I did on vacation.  Matter of fact, the longer I stayed out of the house, the happier he was; shit breath didn’t love me at all.  Only my mom cared.

It was mild for a summer day; the temperature topped out at 71 degrees.  One thing I hated about summer in L.A. was the humidity.  It was typically cold in the morning, so you’d end up having to carry your jacket around almost all day.  I remember wearing a work shirt that once belonged to my grandfather. In knew my dad resented me for wearing it, but he never said anything.  Go figure.

I left my house on Martel Avenue.  Looking north to the Hollywood Hills, there was the familiar, brown haze of smog.  In the wintertime and early spring, and sometimes in autumn, the view of the hills was crystal clear.  Once, a few years earlier, I saw snowcaps on those hills, just after a rainstorm.

I walked eastward down Beverly Boulevard toward La Brea.  I was planning to take the public bus to the event, using my student discount card.  I wore my Levi’s jeans, a black Tee shirt, and black deck shoes.  I’d put on boxer shorts as well, although a lot of “hip kids” didn’t wear underwear.  I had my grandfathers work shirt on over my Tee shirt.

Now on weekends, buses kept different schedules than they did on weekdays.  They came just once every hour and stopped running at midnight.  By then, the oil companies had ruined public transportation in Los Angeles.  I waited and waited on the northeast corner of Beverly and La Brea.  Four gas stations flanked the intersection:  Texaco, Chevron, Exxon, and Gulf.  L.A. was indeed a “car town.”

Hitch hiking was the standard “hip” mode of transportation. It was viewed as an expression of collective sharing among your brothers and sisters; just like sharing a jug of wine or a joint.  Taken to the extreme, there was the sharing of your boyfriend or girlfriend in the name of “Free Love.”  As a rule, I didn’t hitch hike much.  Middle-aged perverts who wanted to suck my cock would often pick me up.  On the other hand, I didn’t want to wait another hour for a bus, so I stuck out my thumb and hoped for somebody who was heading for the same destination as I was.

Ten minutes later, a 1949 VW Beetle ambled up the street toward me, a trail of smoke behind it.  At the time, a lot of young people painted their VW bugs with colorful floral designs and symbols, such as the Peace sign.  Well, this little car was a real wreck!  It looked like it had been entered into and ejected from a demolition derby.  One taillight was cracked, a door was taped up, and the paint was peeling with age.  The body was covered in dents.

But, you know what they say:   “Beggars can’t be choosers!”

The door opened and the driver asked, “Griffith Park Love In?”

I said, “Yep!”

He jubilantly replied, “Get in!”

A passenger closed the door behind me.  The driver looked like a college professor from the 80’s. He was a white guy in his 40’s with shaggy, curly hair and an unshaven face; his specs sat halfway down his nose. The radio was on; a vintage A.M. model with one speaker.  It was tuned in to some Top 40s station; a teenybopper song was playing.  I think it was “Baby I Love You.”  When it ended, the DJ announced loudly, “That was Andy Kim! Going up the charts like a shooting star!  Now the news!  Headlines:  Nixon says 25,000 troops will be withdrawn out of Vietnam in a couple of days!”

What I hated about VW Beetles was that noisy, sputtering engine and the smell of gasoline.  I prayed we’d get to our destination soon, before I got asphyxiated! Thank Buddha, somebody lit up a doobie, which effectively covered up the gas odor.  Hey, I would have been happy if somebody had simply burned some incense!

Someone from the back seat addressed the driver, “Hey, Dean! Are you going to that Woodstock Arts and Crafts festival?”

He blissfully replied, “Hell, yeah. I’m going!”

I asked, “What’s Woodstock?”

He laughed and answered, “Only the biggest concert in the history of humanity!  It is going to be bigger than the Monterey Pop Festival two years ago.  I heard the Beatles are showing up!”

Somebody said from the back seat, “I heard the Stones and Dylan are coming, too!”

I asked, “Where is this going to take place?”

“Upstate New York!”

I replied, “Oh.”  I thought to myself, ‘They’ll be lucky to get Joni Mitchell to play at an arts and craft festival.  Whenever I think of an arts and craft festival, I think of the Renaissance Fair. My dad took the family to that fair once and it reminded me of an outdoor mental institution.  No thanks!’

Driving south on Los Feliz Boulevard reminded one of how poor they are.  There were these giant mansions built in the 1930’s, worth millions upon millions of dollars!  Even the Art Deco apartment buildings looked luxurious.

Finally, upon arriving at the Mulholland Memorial Fountain, I knew we’d arrived at the entrance to Griffith Park.  Just a right turn on Crystal Springs Drive and then north to the park.

Today, though, was different.  For the first time since I’d driven there with my parents, there was a traffic jam.  Lines upon lines of vehicles, of all different shapes and kinds, were backed up to Los Feliz.  Those inside were mostly collage-aged kids, smoking grass and banging on tambourines. Crystal Spring Drive was a two-lane road next to the side of a hill, a distance of about a mile and a half to our destination, the Merry-Go-Round.  At a grueling 10 miles an hour, it took us about 25 minutes to get there!  It was 11:35 a.m.

Only three bands were scheduled to play the Love In. They were “Ace of Cups” (stupid name), “Sons of Chaplin,” and the “Jefferson Airplane.”  In December that year, I would see The Airplane perform at Altamont Speedway’s tragically-iconic, free concert in Northern California.

Behind the Merry-Go-Round, there was a small meadow in which hundreds, if not thousands of people, had gathered.  An area had been set aside where the band would play; not an elevated stage or platform, just open, flat ground.  This area was on an incline, so mostly people who located themselves far from it could see the bands.  All of this was set up behind the public bathroom building.

I walked alone among the throngs of smelly Baby Boomers. There were peddlers selling everything—and I mean everything!  I came across one member of the Black Panther Party selling his party��s tabloid, “The Black Panther.”  I’m glad for that; all of the misinformation I’d been told was dispelled later that night.

Cops were strolling among the crowd.  There were some kids walking around butt naked. This was supposed to be for making a political statement.  If you’d asked me, I’d have said it was just good old fashioned expositionism!  If you’d seen their bodies, you’d have hoped they were arrested!  A cop would yell to one nude dude, “Hey!  Cover up or you will get busted for indecent exposure!”  The lawbreaker quickly tied a shirt around his waist. As soon as the fuzz left the area, he got naked again.  It was the same thing with pot, which was still illegal in those days.  Some cops would tell a pot smoker, “Put that stuff away or I will have to run you in!”  Overall, the cops wanted to avoid any rioting.

The Chicano gangs were drunk on wine and barbiturates, or “Reds.”  The Bikers stood by their Harley Davidsons while they got drunk on beer.  The more they drank, the more pugnacious they got.  Fights broke out everywhere.  Ultimately, the event was more like a “hate in” than a Love In. What I could never understand was why Bikers attended every Love In or Antiwar protest if they hated Hippies so much! I suppose it was for the dope and the chicks.

The Hippies were just toking on weed and passing around gallon bottles of Red Mountain wine.  Sharing like this was a sure way of getting Hepatitis C.  I avoided the ritual as much as possible.  The Hippie chicks had this proclivity of dancing by themselves.  They looked like blow up dolls in the wind.  Alas, everybody was compelled to express themselves in those days.  It was a great argument for Fascism.  

Oh, there was music…sort of…kind of.  Two bands were playing your generic twelve-bar blues. Then came the Airplane.  But, every song they attempted to play was stopped in the middle.  Why? Because the sound system sucked shit!

I got bored and left.  As I looked at the crowd for the last time, I thought, ‘This is not going to last.  Most of these kids will get married and have kids financed by their careers.  By the 1980’s, they will become Republicans.’  I wish I’d written that down.  Who is going to believe I ever had those thoughts?  No one.

I took a bus home, had dinner, and went into my room. I read “The Black Panther.”

I’ll say this, it was the most interesting Monday I’d ever had.  

[awhilesince]

Tuesday, 10 April 1827

6 40/60

12 5/60

.. [Anne’s period] my bowels pretty well – at breakfast at 8 – went out at 8 35/60 – met Mrs B– (Barlow) at the top of the stairs – sent George at 7 to say I should be ready in an hour, and sent him again at 8 to ask her to come as the 1st answer was that she was ready at 7 – we walked to No. 12 rue du faubourg St. Denis – the vehicle for St. Denis gone – would be another at 10 – could not wait – walked forwards – overtook the diligence vehicle about 1/2 way between the Porte St. Denis and the barrier, and got into it at 9 25/60 – alighted at St. Denis at 10 5/60 – we were in the back part with 2 apparently workmen and a well dressed respectable looking well informed young man – who, among other things, told us there was to be a government company for supplying every house in Paris with water by stop-cocks opening into the different apartments – all the streets of Paris to be 35 feet (French) wide besides trottoirs on each side – 

turned to our left along the canal – at la Briche at 10 40/60 – sat down in the grounds of the next house to the late Mr Andrew Barlow’s at Epinay sur Seine at 11 1/4 – beautiful view – the steeple of St. Denis – Montmartre – the dome of the Invalides at Paris, Mont Valerien, several villages St. Ouen, Clichy, Anières …. the white sided range of Mont Orgement with Argenteuil in the distance at its foot – sat contemplating this view about 20/60 hour – then went up to Mrs Barlow’s house – apparently wanting repairs – saw the portière – wife to the gardener Employed by Madame Leconte, an elderly lady, who took the house of the widow Mrs B– (Barlow) for 3 years – 2 of them Expired – the portière thought the rent 3 or 4 thousand francs per annum – the garden ground around the house not large, but neat and pretty – sauntered slowly thro’ the village (having left the side of the river to go up to St. Gratien), – one of the nicest French villages I have seen – 

left the village at 11 50/60 – pursuing the high road to Pontoise and Rouen – having Taken with us the map of the environs of Paris open in our hand, saw beyond Sannois, ‘l’hermitage’, fancying it the hermitage of Rousseau, we instead of leaving the hight road for St. Gratien, went forwards to Sannois, part of it very picturesquely situated at the foot of the north side of Mont Orgement the highest summit of which is here surmounted by 3 wind mills – all the way from Epinay fine view of Montmorency and the neighbouring villages, and of course of the celebrated vale of Montmorency – too Extended – on entering Sannois at 12 33/60, a very civil good humoured looking woman told us the the hermitage near Sannois was merely a farm – Rousseau’s hermitage near Montmorency – went into the woman’s house – very nice and clean – rested there 1/2 hour – the woman looked happy, and in good circumstances – her husband a mason, having houses of his own – had just built one next door – 2 stories – 4 or 5 rooms besides garrets – 500 or 600 francs a year – but – living would be as dear as in Paris on account of being so near – 

on leaving Sannois at 1 33/60 which the woman said was doubled in size within these 20 years, we strode across the country to St. Gratien – distant thunder at intervals – and black clouds hovering about – all the people busy propping the pines – if the warm weather continued they would be in leaf in a few days – all the peasants (many more women than men) looked cheerful and happy – one of the women told us there was going to be an orage, but we had plenty of time to get to St. Gartien – a niceish little village – still thundering, but we should have plenty of time to get to Enghien – pursued our way along the little lake (Etaing de Montmorency, and a very little way from St. Gratien) and got to the Bains d’Enghein at 2 33/60 (just an hour from Sannois) – Looking down along the lake from here, the vale of Montmorency is really pretty But the proprietor of the lake, for the sake of making himself a shady drive, has planted a belt of poplars all round the lake, and placed a sort of dress café in the middle of it (standing apparently in the middle of the water, the foundation being hid) to which people go in a boat to take refreshments, and the whole is too much tricked out – the Baths and apartments, a largeish pile of buildings undergoing repairs – and not to be seen – to be opened on the 1st of May – an apartment of a little salon and 2 little bedrooms let a 6 francs per day, to be taken for less than 15 days – dinner for ladies at the table d’hôte 3/50 a head – pretty garden – an observatory from the top of which there must be a fine view – but locked up – bottling of the water – 12 sols a bottle – smelt like Harrogate water – but not purgativethe man said – tonic strengthening to the stomach – the baths very good for rheumatic and gout – the the place looked low and damp – they say, the vale of Montmorency is damp on account of the lake – 2 establishments of baths, but both belonging to the same proprietor – 

sauntered slowly thro’ this now become village to the ‘maison blanche’ a little auberge on the St. Lu road (about 2 lieues from St. L– Lu) to take places for Paris – the clouds blacker  than ever – got to the maison blanche at 3 5/60 – very civil good humoured looking woman – said we might get to Montmorency (about 10 minutes off) before the orage – could have a good dinner at Monsieur le Duc’s in the Place du Marché – she had only 3 Sauscisses de Campagne, and eggs and bacon and vin de Campagne – ordered her to get these ready in 1/2 hour, resolving not to go far from the house – Mrs B– (Barlow) had had a sol roll at Sannois – I had had nothing since breakfast at 8– and as we should not be off for Paris till 6, I thought it best not to wait for dinner at home – we walked out a little, but the clouds blacker and blacker sent us in, and we had just sat down to our saucisses etc (the wine rather sour but we drank the whole demie bouteille) at 3 35/60 when it began to rain heavily, and we were glad of our quarters in the little room upstairs with 2 beds in it where slept the master and mistress of their grown up daughter – enjoyed our dinner – and at 4 10/60 we both lay down on the young lady’s bed, and lay, sleeping most of the time, till 5 1/2 – then got up – paid 2 francs our dinner and got ready to be off – told the woman we might perhaps come and dine with her again by and by – 

got into the St. Lu velocifère? (one compartment carrying 9 inside on 3 seats) – at 6 5/60 – 4 men and ourselves – passed the late Comte de Lacepèdés place (nice looking house) at St. Gratien on our right at a little distance – Montmagny and 2 or 3 other villages at a little distance on our left – Stopt at St. Denis (for a few minutes) at 6 40/60 – It being all but fair when we got out at No. 12 rue du faubourg St. Denis, walked home – when we had got a little on the side the Passage des Panoramas, it began to rain again pretty smartly – very dirty on the boulevards – 

saw Mrs B– (Barlow) to her own door, and got home at 8 1/2 – my aunt still sitting after dinner – changed my shoes and stockings etc – put on my pelisse, and went into the dining room at 8 3/4 – Madame Sené came almost immediately and staid till after 9 – being hot and thirsty I enjoyed dessert and warm wine – and water – my aunt had been rather low today – her legs or feet swell more – and MacDonald found another bug this morning – we sat till 10 20/60, and I then came to my room – Settled with George –

those who come to Paris, and have time for country Excursions should entirely see les Bains d’Enghein – Mrs Barlow and I perfectly quiet while lying ddown after dinner on going to the place at Sannois I found my cousin coming expected yesterday  at dinner I felt him come on going to bed tonight my linen a good deal stained –

left margin: Fahrenheit 58 at 8 a.m. 56 at 10 1/2 p.m. rain during last night raining at 6 this morning 

fine morning at 7 – about noon occasional distant Thunder but very fine about 1 the clouds rather black but seeming as if they might disperse – the thunder came nearer – about 3 1/2 p.m. the storm came on – heavy rain but no thunder or lighting – the rain continued more or less for the rest of the day – It had began to rain here (in Paris) before 2 p.m. –

reference number: SH:7/ML/E/10/0078, SH:7/ML/E/10/0079