#ST!ZO

[kevotsuka]

DIOS EXISTE

[givemegifs]

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"my name is whatever you decide" ft. the monster trio!

ft. luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader

set-up: nsfw drabbles; let's talk about our fav men on sea (//some other misc. headcanons)

warnings: nsfw stuff includes: penetration, oral (both m!recieving and f!receiving), creampie, degradation, praise kink, choking, toys (i kinda went overboard); MDNI (thankyou very much)

luffy:

- this man is messy to his core no matter where - so, naturally, sex with him? sloppy as fuck - his hands are pulling your wayward hair into a tight ponytail, using his grip as leverage to push his cock further into your mouth "just. like. that." he fucks your throat with every punctuated word, marveling in the way tears slides down your cheeks and you struggle to breath "just a little bit more" he coos, as your nose brushes against his skin and your eyes roll into the back of your head - youre reduced to nothing but a toy for luffy to fuck into "god, ju-st like that. just a bit mor-e ugh" he holds your head still, "yn, fuck." - his hips stutter in an uneven rhythm as he empties out into your throat, painting your sore throat with a sticky coat - once this man gets hyperfixated, there's no stopping him - he will play with your nipples, tugging and biting till you're pushing his face away "t- too sensitive, luffy" "you can take it" he grins, giving your hardened nipple kitten licks - he will spend hours with his tongue playing with your cunt, licking up and down, fucking you with his tongue till you're pulling him away from your overstimulated pussy - actually moans everytime you pull/tug on his hair and whispers, "again, please" "you like that?" the way he dives back into your pussy answers for itself - doesn't exactly have a mommy kink but god, ask him once and he'd say anything that makes your pussy clench down that fucking good around his cock "mommy, your pussy-" he notices how you bite down on your lip, your walls shutting on his dick, trapping him in, "you like that, huh?" - his fav position is missionary, because (1) he is a simple man, you're in front of him naked and he's gonna fuck you senseless now and (2) he can see every inch of your body and face as he slips in and out of you. he can see in real time how your eyes roll back into your head as he stretches his cock just slightly to hit your g-spot, rubbing against you periodically - will not stop until you've cum, if he came before you, he will just keep fucking into you till you're milking him dry again - down to try anything and everything - will always cum inside you but if he wants a real sweet view, he will pull out and pump himself till he's releasing ropes over your chest and face - the way you scoop up his cum from your tits and suck on your fingers has him hardening all over again

zoro:

^^ jfc jfc jfc jfc jf-

- he was so fucking reluctant towards you ever owning a sex toy cause he was right there and if you "needed help, you can always ask me, baby" - but when you went ahead and bought one from an island one of these days, he wanted to see just how worth that purchase had been - his thick fingers are slipping in and out of your slick cunt, curling everytime he enters it. low buzz fills the room as your shaking fingers hold the vibrator to your clit - "zo-" your head is thrown back, mouth dry from the pace his fingers fuck you in, "zoro zoro- zo- fuck fuck fuck god- i'm gonna-" "cum?" you nod feverishly, hands forcing the vibrator harder against her swollen clit - "you can take it" he coos and you're almost crying when his lips bite down on your neck, kissing your pulse, "you can fucking take it, can't you?" "zo- r-o" he thrusts into you harder, still cooing next to the shell of your ear, "are you gon' cry from how good i'm fucking you? hm?" - his other hand holds your face tightly, "go ahead, fucking cry like a pretty, little slut" - he makes you hold that vibrator till you're squirting on his fingers, face red and eyes blurry due to the building tears, lips swollen from how hard you were biting down "good girl" he says as he licks up your remnants on his fingers, "aww, was that too much?" he whispers against your lips at your fucked out state, "i thought you could do better than that?" - his hands are pulling you onto him, "show me you can do better than that" - his favourite position is 100% cow-girl because (1) after a long day, he just wants to lay down as you bounce up and down his dick, gyrating your hips around his cock as your tits bounce with you and (2) he loves seeing your frustrated moans as you try to fuck yourself using him, he loves knowing no matter what you do, you cannot cum the way he can make you cum - eventually he'd flip you around and fuck into you, animalistic and blinding "god- fuck, you like that, huh?" his fingers are rubbing on your clit, the same slick covered fingers and then being shoved into your mouth, "your pussy feels so good, you have no fuckin' idea" - he keeps fucking into your tight cunt, groaning lowly as your fingers claw on his back and you chant his name - cums inside you and watches as his essence drips out of your over-used pussy - and fuck, he needs you again

sanji:

^^ i dont condemn smoking but okokokok-

- if theres one thing sanji knows, its worship - he takes his time, no matter how many times you tug on you hair or moan his name, he is a man of thorough precision - hickeys mark your body right from underneath your jaw to your inner thigh, the purple bruises springing onto the surface as his bites and kisses and licks - he takes his painfully sweet time in opening your legs, kissing around but never where you want him "sanji~" you whine, trying to push his face further in "patience, my love" - and lord if you're patient, he will send you to heaven and bring you back down again and again and again - as much as he is a gentleman, he loves having you at his disposal "are you close?" he hums against the bundle of nerves, fingers scissoring inside you his tongue edges you, slowing down painfully when you yell his name and ask him to go faster "aw sorry, im just not done with you yet" he smiles, licking the fluids splattered across his lips - one might call him selfish but it's okay because you pay him back in the same manner and you can tell from his half-lidded gaze how much he loves it - his forehead is damp, eyes screwed shut and he's begging you to please let him cum "pl- please, yn" he whimpers, "don't play with me like this, darling- please" - cums unexpectedly on your hands and face, mumbling a half-ass apology because you know he loves the view of his seed on your tattered skin - his favourite position is wherever he can hold most of you, so usually it's his chest flush against yours as you bounce in his lap - the sounds he makes are unholy when you graze your teeth on his neck and clench down on him at the same time - but he will take any type of lazy fucking, you next to him, your back against his chest as he pounds into you slowly? it has him going insane "god, look at how wet you are, love" he whispers as his fingers find your clit, "i can probably fuck you like this forever" - he wouldn't ever cum inside cause homeboy only wants to do that when you want to make him a father - but you way you're whimpering, clenching down on him again and again as your juices coat his thighs, whispering, "please, please, please sanji, inside me" makes him change his mind - you are collapsed against each other, body sticky with sweat and other fluids. after he's gathered himself, he tips your head back, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips he finds himself tucking your hair behind your ear, "you're mine forever" (ofc u are <3)

a/n: well have fun!

[duxbelisarius]

The Dragon has Three Heads or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Believe That Young Griff is the Real Deal

Before going any further, I want to warn anyone reading this analysis that it will contain spoilers for A Dance With Dragons, so proceed at your own risk.

This essay came about from an 'epiphany' I had while reading ADWD on break at work, specifically chapter Daenerys VII. In this chapter, Quentyn Martell and his companions present themselves to Daenerys and offer her a marriage alliance with Dorne. This being the day of her wedding to Hizdahr zo Loraq, Dany refuses and makes note mentally of Quaithe's earlier warning about not trusting "the Sun's Son." The identification seems simple enough, with House Martell's sigil featuring the sun and Quentyn being the son of Doran Martell, Prince of Dorne, but there are serious problems with this conclusion.

The issue with labeling Quentyn Martell the Sun's Son stems from how Dany reaches this conclusion; for starters, this is the original quote given by Quaithe in Daenerys II:

"No. Hear me, Daenerys Targaryen. The glass candles are burning. Soon comes the pale mare, and after her the others. Kraken and dark flame, lion and griffin, the sun's son and the mummer's dragon. Trust none of them. Remember the Undying. Beware the perfumed seneschal."

And this is how Dany identifies Quentyn as the Sun's Son in Daenerys VII and VIII:

Something tickled at her memory. "Ser Barristan, what are the arms of House Martell?"

"A sun in splendor, transfixed by a spear."

The sun's son. A shiver went through her. "Shadows and whispers." What else had Quaithe said? The pale mare and the sun's son. There was a lion in it too, and a dragon. Or am I the dragon? "Beware the perfumed seneschal." That she remembered. "Dreams and prophecies. Why must they always be in riddles? I hate this. Oh, leave me, ser. Tomorrow is my wedding day."

...

The pale mare. Daenerys sighed. Quaithe warned me of the pale mare's coming. She told me of the Dornish prince as well, the sun's son. She told me much and more, but all in riddles.

George has talked about the fickle nature of prophecy in the books and publicly, citing the Duke of Somerset's death at the Battle of St. Albans in Shakespeare's Henry VI as an example of why the literal or easiest interpretations are not always the most reliable. While Dany's conclusion that Quentyn is the 'Sun's Son' seems straightforward, she bases it solely on Barristan's description of the Martell arms. Her reasoning is mainly to justify marrying Hizdahr by dismissing the Martell offer, as Dany herself barely remembers Quaithe's warning and bemoans her 'riddles'.

Assuming that the 'Pale Mare' refers to the 'bloody flux' that the Astapori refugees bring to Meereen, and that the Kraken, dark flame, lion, griffon and mummer's dragon refer to Victarion Greyjoy, Moqorro, Tyrion, Connington and Young Griff respectively, the sequence of Quaithe's warning makes no sense with Quentyn as the 'Sun's Son.' At the end of ADWD, Tyrion is outside the walls of Meereen while Victarion and Moqorro are en route with the Iron Fleet, and Connington and Young Griff are in Westeros. If Dany's return to Meereen from the Dothraki Sea is followed by her journeying westwards, then this sequence makes sense. Victarion will likely destroy the Slaver's fleets and is seeking Dany's hand in marriage, while Moqorro is with him for the purpose of acknowledging her as Azor Ahai and encouraging her to free the slaves of Volantis. Given Tyrion's association with Varys, Illyrio, Jorah and now 'Brown Ben Plumm,' and his family's role in Robert's rebellion, it makes sense that he would not immediately seek out Daenerys on her return to Meereen. Connington and Young Griff await her in Westeros, but Quentyn as the 'Sun's Son' precedes all of them, breaking Quaithe's otherwise sensible sequence. If Quentyn were the 'Sun's Son' he could just as easily have been paired with the Kraken, since both are sent by the heads of their houses to offer her an alliance, while Tyrion and Moqorro travel together on the Selaesori Qhoran (the 'Perfumed Seneschal') and Connington and Griff are in league with Varys.

The far greater issue with Dany's interpretation is that we have access to Quentyn's POV, and there is nothing to suggest that he seeks to betray Daenerys. His purpose was to approach Dany with a marriage alliance, to assist her in reclaiming her crown; his party was even sent by Tatters to scope out the situation in Meereen for a possible double-crossing of the Yunkai'i, specifically to aid Dany. The only thing close to untoward that he does is attempt to claim one of her Dragons, and this was a desperation move driven by his insecurities and his fear of returning to his father empty handed, which would mean that his fallen companions died for nothing:

"What name do you think they will give me, should I return to Dorne without Daenerys?" Prince Quentyn asked. "Quentyn the Cautious? Quentyn the Craven? Quentyn the Quail?" (The Discarded Knight, ADWD)

Volantis, Quentyn thought. Then Lys, then home. Back the way I came, empty-handed. Three brave men dead, for what?

...

His father would speak no word of rebuke, Quentyn knew, but the disappointment would be there in his eyes. His sister would be scornful, the Sand Snakes would mock him with smiles sharp as swords, and Lord Yronwood, his second father, who had sent his own son along to keep him safe … (The Spurned Suitor, ADWD)

Disqualifying Quentyn as the Sun's Son leaves us with only three options, of which only one really works. Trystane is the only other son of House Martell aside from Quentyn via Prince Doran, and given his limited roll in the story thus far I think it's safe to cross him off the list. Doran could theoretically work as the 'Sun's son,' as his mother was Princess of Dorne before him; given that Quaithe describes the figures as going to Dany, Doran's limited mobility and poor health would disqualify him. This leaves us with only one 'son of a sun,' that being 'Young Griff,' aka Aegon VI Targaryen, the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell, Princess of Dorne.

This association of Aegon with the Martells via his mother fits with the copious amounts of imagery linking him to the Rhoynar and to 'Egg' aka Aegon V of "Dunk and Egg" fame, specifically that character's travels in Dorne. Tyrion finds him living on a pole boat in the Rhoyne River, home of the ancient Rhoynar culture that Dorne descends from. The Shy Maid is operated by Yandry and Ysilla, so-called 'orphans of the Greenblood' which are another allusion to Dunk and Egg's travels on the Greenblood River in Dorne:

A poleboat had taken them down the Greenblood to the Planky Town, where they took passage for Oldtown on the galleas White Lady.

...

When they’d been poling down the Greenblood, the orphan girls had made a game of rubbing Egg’s shaven head for luck. (The Sworn Sword)

In Tyrion IV of ADWD, a massive horned turtle appears in the river by the Shy Maid, an obvious reference to the Rhoynish 'Old Man of the River,':

It was another turtle, a horned turtle of enormous size, its dark green shell mottled with brown and overgrown with water moss and crusty black river molluscs. It raised its head and bellowed, a deep-throated thrumming roar louder than any warhorn that Tyrion had ever heard. “We are blessed,” Ysilla was crying loudly, as tears streamed down her face. “We are blessed, we are blessed.”

Duck was hooting, and Young Griff too. Haldon came out on deck to learn the cause of the commotion . . . but too late. The giant turtle had vanished below the water once again. “What was the cause of all that noise?” the Halfmaester asked.

“A turtle,” said Tyrion. “A turtle bigger than this boat.”

“It was him,” cried Yandry. “The Old Man of the River.”

And why not? Tyrion grinned. Gods and wonders always appear, to attend the birth of kings.

When Tyrion and Haldon visit the Painted Turtle inn to find information about Daenerys' whereabouts, we have an interesting description of the inn from Tyrion:

The ridged shell of some immense turtle hung above its door, painted in garish colors. Inside a hundred dim red candles burned like distant stars. (Tyrion VI, ADWD)

We once more have Rhoynish symbolism in the turtle, while the 'garish colors' are reminiscent of Young Griff's hair, which is dyed blue in the Tyroshi fashion. Tyrion's description of inside the 'Painted Turtle' is one of dim red candles burning like stars, which can be seen as an oblique reference to the red rubies on Rhaegar's black breastplate, thereby associating the red of Targaryen heraldry with the cultural symbols of the Rhoynar.

The 'Dunk and Egg' imagery goes further, with both Egg and Aegon wearing distinctive straw sun hats, and being accompanied by their Hedge Knights from the Stormlands, both of whom have titles derived from their own simplistic personalities (Duncan the Tall, Rolly Duckfield). Moreover, Egg's journeying to Dorne ends up giving him refuge from the Spring Sickness that ravages Westeros, while Aegon's time in Essos serves as a refuge from Robert's spies and the chaos of the War of the Five Kings. While these similarities might be viewed as a doomed attempt by Varys to recreate Egg through Aegon, I think the purpose of these parallels is to establish both princes as following similar trajectories: both are sons of a Targaryen prince (Maekar, Rhaegar) and a Dornish noblewoman (Dyana Dayne, Elia Martell); become King of the Seven Kingdoms through unexpected circumstances: and if George plans to end ADOS with a mini-Dance of the Dragons, I would expect Aegon VI to meet a fiery end like Egg did.

If Young Griff is actually Aegon VI Targaryen as well as the 'Sun's Son,' this leaves the 'mummer's dragon' without any clear identity. Part of this is due to the conviction that Dany's identification of the cloth dragon from the undying visions with a 'mummer's dragon' or puppet dragon must be correct. In truth, there are countless cases from ADWD alone that show us that a mummer's object is not necessarily a puppet, but more broadly means something which is not as it appears:

I know one stands before me now, weeping mummer's tears. The realization made her sad. (Daenerys III, ADWD)

"Not here," warned Gerris, with a mummer's empty smile. "We'll speak of this tonight, when we make camp." (The Windblown, ADWD)

"My lord, I bear you no ill will. The rancor I showed you in the Merman's Court was a mummer's farce put on to please our friends of Frey."

...

I drink with Jared, jape with Symond, promise Rhaegar the hand of my own beloved granddaughter … but never think that means I have forgotten. The north remembers, Lord Davos. The north remembers, and the mummer's farce is almost done. My son is home." (Davos IV, ADWD)

His reign as prince of Winterfell had been a brief one. He had played his part in the mummer's show, giving the feigned Arya to be wed, and now he was of no further use to Roose Bolton. (The Turncloak, ADWD)

Fat Wyman Manderly, Whoresbane Umber, the men of House Hornwood and House Tallhart, the Lockes and Flints and Ryswells, all of them were northmen, sworn to House Stark for generations beyond count. It was the girl who held them here, Lord Eddard's blood, but the girl was just a mummer's ploy, a lamb in a direwolf's skin. So why not send the northmen forth to battle Stannis before the farce unraveled? (A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD)

Mummer's tears and smiles are obviously false emotions, being affectations put on to hide what someone truly feels. Wyman Manderly is engaged in a mummer's farce wherein he pretends to be loyal to King Tommen and Roose Bolton, but in truth is scheming to restore the Starks to Winterfell and assist Stannis against the Boltons. Roose Bolton, Petyr Baelish and the Crown have in turn engaged in their own mummer's farce by sending Jeyne Poole north to wed Ramsay Snow in the guise of Arya Stark, "a lamb in direwolf's skin." If the 'mummer's dragon' is in fact a dragon that has been made to appear as something else, then Jon Snow more than fits this bill. By birth he should be a Targaryen, having been fathered by Rhaegar Targaryen upon Lyanna Stark; instead, his fortuitous Stark features inherited from his mother, and Ned's claiming Jon as his bastard and raising him amongst his children at Winterfell, has allowed Jon to hide in plain sight from those who would kill him for being Rhaegar's son.

The significance of Dany, Jon and Aegon being the three heads of the dragon is due to their mirroring a less conspicuous triad in George's World: elemental magic and it's connections to the Long Night. We are aware of three forms of elemental magic in the story, being pyromancy, cryomancy and hydromancy. Pyromancy is the most obvious, being the control and use of fire as we see with followers of Rhllor, and also tied to dragons. Cryomancy or ice magic appears in the powers of the Others and in the Wall separating the Seven Kingdoms from the lands beyond. Finally we have hydromancy or water magic, which was used by the Rhoynar against the Valyrian Freedhold and by Nymeria's Rhoynar settlers to support their communities within the deserts of Dorne. Company of the Cat has an excellent video discussing these three 'schools' of magic, but to summarize what she's said: Blue, Red and Green are the colours commonly associated with Ice, Fire and Water/the Sea in ASOIAF; in addition to being featured on the arms of ancient houses such as Massey and Strong, these elements are in turn associated with three magical items in the books. The first, The Horn of Joramun, can raise and lower The Wall (Ice); Dragonbinder, a horn that was likely used alongside similar horns to control the volcanoes of the fourteen flames in Valyria (Fire); and the 'Kraken summoning horn' which is most likely the Hammer of the Waters, since the Hammer raised the seas to swamp the 'Arm of Dorne,' which would have filled the seas fill with corpses of the dead and 'summoned' krakens, which would have fed on the bodies of the drowned.

The Valyrian, Northern and Rhoynish heritage of Dany, Jon and Aegon ties them to these three forms of magic respectively, and by extension to the Long Night. We are given three accounts of the Long Night between ASOIAF and TWOIAF, which I dub the 'western,' 'far eastern' and 'near eastern' versions. The 'western' account concerns the First Men, the Night's Watch, the Last Hero and the Others; the 'far eastern' account covers the 'Jade Compendium' and the Yi Tish account of the Blood Betrayal; and the 'near eastern' or Rhoynar account in which the children of Mother Rhoyne sang a song to return light to the world. Aegon is tied to the Rhoynish account through his mother's heritage, with references to the Rhoynish account in the 'Old Man of the River' appearing in ADWD and Dany's vision of Rhaegar talking about Aegon's 'Song' (that of Ice and Fire):

The Rhoynar tell of a darkness that made the Rhoyne of Essos dwindle and disappear, her waters frozen as far south as the joining of the Selhoru, until a hero convinced the many children of Mother Rhoyne, such as the Crab King and the Old man of the River, to put aside their bickering and join in a secret song that brought back the day. (TWOIAF: Ancient History: The Long Night)

...

“Will you make a song for him?” the woman asked.

“He has a song,” the man replied. “He is the prince that was promised, and his is the song of ice and fire.” (Daenerys IV, ACOK)

Jon's connection to the Northern account is obvious given his Stark lineage and service in the Night's Watch, as well as his dreams in ADWD:

Burning shafts hissed upward, trailing tongues of fire. Scarecrow brothers tumbled down, black cloaks ablaze. "Snow," an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist. As the dead men reached the top of the Wall he sent them down to die again. He slew a greybeard and a beardless boy, a giant, a gaunt man with filed teeth, a girl with thick red hair. Too late he recognized Ygritte. She was gone as quick as she'd appeared.

The world dissolved into a red mist. Jon stabbed and slashed and cut. He hacked down Donal Noye and gutted Deaf Dick Follard. Qhorin Halfhand stumbled to his knees, trying in vain to staunch the flow of blood from his neck. "I am the Lord of Winterfell," Jon screamed. It was Robb before him now, his hair wet with melting snow. Longclaw took his head off. Then a gnarled hand seized Jon roughly by the shoulder. He whirled … (Jon XII, ADWD)

Finally, Dany is directly referred to as Azor Ahai in the books while her visions from Daenerys IX of AGOT connect her bloodline to the Great Empire of the Dawn. The eye colours of the figures she sees match the titles of four of the eight emperors of the GEOTD, Opal, Jade, Tourmaline and Amethyst, with the Bloodstone Emperor killing his sister the Amethyst Empress and causing the Long Night. Azor Ahai and the Bloodstone Emperor are themselves connected, and I recommend David Lightbringer's Nightbringer series and "Azor Ahai the Bad Guy" video for a concise explanation. It's worth noting that David is well within the Faegon Blackfyre camp, but I think his theories here more than fit my own conclusions also.

Aegon being one of the three heads also fits in with the symbolic relationship between water, fire and ice and the green, red and blue colour scheme. As Company of the Cat points out in her video about the magic horns (timestamp 26:52), green is a secondary colour made from a 'cool' and a 'warm' colour, placing it in the middle of the spectrum while red and blue are polar opposites. Similarly, fire can melt ice back into water and water in turn quenches fire, situating Aegon at a middle ground between Jon's ice and Dany's fire. Whereas Jon's only aspect of himself that ties him to House Targaryen is his father and otherwise he is firmly associated with his mother's house, Dany is tied symbolically to her Targaryen identity in the books, being a product of Targaryen incest, the first to hatch dragons in over a century, and her ties to fire through her 'rebirth' on Mirri's pyre under the Red Comet. While Aegon's physical appearance and his father tie him clearly to House Targaryen like Dany, the support of his mother's family alongside his Rhoynar lineage and symbolism place him in a similar situation to Jon, besides their being half-brothers. This also calls to mind the three accounts of the Long Night: if Jon is the Last Hero leading the Night's Watch and Dany is Azor Ahai driving out the darkness with her 'lightbringer' (ie her dragons), Aegon is the unnamed hero who rallied the children of Mother Rhoyne to sing a secret song which brought back the day. To quote alexis_something_rose's essay about Young Griff, "I can wager who will be bickering and who will tell them to set their differences aside and join together in a secret song that will bring back the day."

Whether or not all three or some combination of them will play a decisive role in defeating the Others, or if that will be Bran's part to play, I believe strongly that Dany, Jon and Aegon will be the 'three heads of the dragon.' If 'Young Griff' is truly Sun's Son, Aegon son of Rhaegar, his joining with Dany and Jon represents a unification of the three Dawn Age narratives of the Long Night and it's eventual end. Uniting the icey North, the dragon lord's fire and the songs of Mother Rhoyne would make the endgame a true 'Song of Ice and Fire.'

[jadelining]

Figured, yes. Experienced, ho+wever? I imagine such large, churning o+rbs are delicately sensitive. The larger they are, the mo+re the nerve endings are spread thro+ugho+ut, mo+re numero+us.

If the hint's no+t there, this isn't my first fiduspawn ro+deo+ with so+mebo+dy substantially as big as yo+u. Tho+ugh I will say yo+u're definitely larger than them. Mo+re hung, so+me fo+lk feel pro+ud to+ hear.

Kink: excessive and fo+cused ball play, especially when they're being no+isy.

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

nodnodnodnodnodnod

[amarmoria]

Sempiternal 11

⊹ ⭑.ᐟ Yao x Reader ⊹ ࣪˖ᝰ.ᐟ

Synopsis: 10 days in some spa center with your family wouldn't be too bad right...?

Previous | Next

Wc: 1.6k

"I absolutely love how we have separate rooms with mom and dad" Zoe says, launching herself on the bed, you sit on the noiseless mattress as it bounces you, it's big, and clean, and bouncy, and tall, it's like a hotel room, 5-star hotel room. You let yourself fall on the cold and newly ironed bedsheets, even then it smelled like strawberries, or lemon, maybe both, you couldn't point your finger at it, but it makes you wanna shut down for the rest of the day.

"Yeah, I hope they don't keep fighting.." you whisper the last few words as Zoe pauses from her bed, slowly turning her head to you.

"Don't worry about it. They planned the retreat so might as well make it bearable for us"

"I guess.."

She frowns as she sits up, her legs crossing. "You worry wart"

"Hey! I'm not a worry wary!"

"Uh huh"

"Nuh uh!"

"Yeah HUH"

"Zoe!" You playfully threw a pillow at her, though it only hit the wall..

"Then stop worrying about nothing."

"I'm not worrying about nothing Zo.."

"Uhh, yes you are"

"Fuck you," you grumble, then it was your turn to sit up. "Since when then huh?"

"Since forever?!"

"Since never! I've never been a worry wart, it's called being curious, helloo?"

"Nyeh nyeh nyeh"

"Zoe!"

"Zoe!"

"I hate you" you laugh, continuously throwing pillows to her side and as did she. "You love me"

"Uhh eww!?"

She gasps, holding her chest like some grandma who heard you curse. "Oh you don't get to call me ew!"

You squeal as she hops from her bed to yours, the both of you bouncing very high as she attacks you at your sides, you screech and try to pry her hands off, you've never escaped her tickle wrestle once, especially when the twins gang up on you.

Oh.

She frowns as you abruptly stop laughing, she tries tickling your sides again, but you give her a tight lipped smile and sit up. It was only now that you'd noticed the ruined pillows, their feathers scattered across everywhere, you might've even found one near the bathroom floor, but you didn't care to stay in that subject any longer.

You stare far away at the window, it was open, a pretty blue sky would've made you think this was heaven, but that's where you brother is, not you, your here, reminded everyday of the things you three used to do.

That night, you didn't want to give him the leftovers from dinner, so you sneaked to the kitchen to hide them, but he was already there finishing every last thing in the fridge, including your newly bought chipotle bowl, so naturally, you got mad st him, smacked him, and called him a bad brother, you wonder if it was you, what if you just let him finish your food, would he even be here.

You look over your shoulder to Zoe, who was worriedly looking over to you. "I'm sorry.."

She doesn't say anything, only getting up and sitting behind you, the foot of your beds were facing the balcony windows so anyone could be watching, but who would wanna watch a crying session other than the birds and the trees. Zoe hugs your shoulders, rubbing your arms continuously as you let out a breather.

"I'm sorry, I, I didn't, it," you can't even finish what you wanted to say, your mind was saying a million things but your mouth can only say so much.

"It's ok, I'm here.."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" you repeated the words like a mantra, your grip on her arm tightened at every hiccup you get while bawling your eyes out. "Hey, hey, it's not your fault okay? It was never yours, don't blame yourself for it alright? I. Love. You, you hear me?"

She was now kneeling in front of you, cupping your cheeks in her hands, her thumbs wiping away your tears and doing the. work for you. "Y-yes, yes, me, me too"

"And don't blame yourself, don't"

Only just a few seconds when you finally calmed down, you liked how Zoe seemed to understand you even when you didn't say anything, it was always so easy with her, everything was, that's why you'd always stick to her every now and then when you don't have anything to do, you didn't have to worry very much when you're with her.

"I'm gonna go check on them," she pauses, mid-way to opening the door. "Are.. are you going to be alright here?"

You blinked, you hesitated in coming with her or stay, you wanted to see if your hunch was right, that they fought, and beat Zoe, but you also wanted to stay here and tidy up, the thought of the staff coming in here and seeing the mess makes you grow hot, you've only arrived and already caused a mess, especially when you assumed they'd just finished cleaning the rooms.

"I- I'll stay here," you shoot her a smile. "..tidy up after you know.."

You gesture to the feathers as she chuckles evilly.

"Okay, have fun~"

You laugh and throw one last pillow at her, you can hear her laugh outside when the pillow hits the now closed door

"Go away now!"

You didn't realize your mistake when your eyes focus on the shrewed feathers. You weren't too fond of cleaning, honestly you don't like cleaning, and the thought of doing it clearly takes a toll on you when you let yourself fall on the bed, you didn't really want to clean, at all, aside from your nose itching whenever you're near dust, you don't like the look of dirty, messy, unorganized stuff, but your also too lazy to clean it. Your eyes zone out on the non moving ceiling fan, the crystal made fan sparkling from the sun, you wonder how much it was, you assume it's super very expensive, as expensive as your house, maybe, but not impossible, rich people who don't know how to spend their rich money.

That's when a knock interrupts your thoughts, you groan while sitting up, the gears on your head turning, weren't the guests supposed to be in quiet and peace after arriving here, oh gosh, what if they've come to collect you out of your fake rooms and throw you in their cells, and now you've doomed yourself by not coming with Zoe since your in the scene of the crime and they're going to punish you for ruining their pillows!

"Hello?"

You freeze at the voice, oh my goodness, you haven't even finished your smoothie, your driver's license, and you still wanted to travel to other countries.

You gulp and peeked through the hallway to the door.

"W-who's there?"

"It's Yao, miss," you can hear him shuffle outside, it sounded like big bags. "Why— what are you doing outside?"

"Uhh I'm here to—" you can momentarily hear a loud, but not too loud bang on the floor, tour heart lurched, no way they brought you a casket, your not going to even get a cell, you're going straight to the coffin.

"No, I, it's okay, I'm, I'll stay here, inside.."

You hear him chuckle. "So you're going to wear that for the rest of the day?"

Oh good lord, he's here to get you changed for your funeral.

"... Y-yes, I don't, I won't let you in here." You stood your ground, planting your feet on the floor and crossing your arms, you weren't going to die today, not ever, you still haven't gotten a boyfriend yet, not even a first kiss.

"I, uh, think you don't quite understand little miss," you almost flinch when he chuckles, no, you won't be deceived so very easily. "What are you laughing at?"

"I'm— I'm not laughing—" once again, you hear him walk away from the door, his laugh fading out the more he goes, coming back as he clears his throat.

"We have a protocol for—"

"No!" You stomp right in front of the door, still not opening it, even just a peek. "I'm not letting you in! I came here so that my parents can enjoy the vacation and heal! And now your little website about, about stability, ha-happiness, and other lies when you're only job here was to scam us and, and kill us and put us in cells o-or coffins and torture us!"

You huff, swallowing the growing saliva in your mouth. The silence was deafening as you waited for his response but nothing came out.

"A-and, if you're, you're here t-to lock me up in a coffin then I'm not letting you."

And yet again, you waited a few seconds for him to answer but was only met by the buzz of the ac. So you slowly and quietly opened the door by a pinch, you scan the hallway for him but there was nothing, so all this time you've been ranting to nothing, to literal air.

You feel yourself growing hot. How can you even get passed this? Good thing no one was present and heard you, pretty sure you were loud enough for it to echo in the hallway, althought they wouldn't know who you were anyways.

You look down when your knees bump something.

"Isn't this..?"

Your luggage? You frown as you spin it around, yes, it is yours, it has the small stickers in the right place, how could it not? You whip your head on the hallway, tryna find any signs of people, or him, but looks you everyone was outside, or maybe exploring.

Was.. was this the thump you heard earlier and not a coffin..?

Oh gosh.

Nope, no, no way, you can't live like this, you didn't think your day could get any worse, you've embarrassed yourself for countless times already, you really hoped he didn't hear the coffin part..

[yourultraarchive]

i love love love your blog!! you have a few posts about japanese names, like how to make them and where they fit in but,,, i was wondering how an american name would fit in (like class number, alphabetically, etc.) or how to translate one, if at all. and do you think its a good idea to have an american oc actually attending UA at all? i know you've said you're not an authority, so its totally fine if you dont know. thank youuuu! your templates are amazing btw

Hi, sorry for the late reply! (I actually haven't been on tumblr in like... months. Life and all.)

Foreign/non-Japanese OCs attending UA wouldn't be weird at all--there are canonically at least 3 foreign exchange/transfer/descent/immigrant students (or something of the sort)! Aoyama from 1-A and Pony and Rin from 1-B are all foreigners in some capacity.

As for how they'd fit alphabetically--well, it'd be just like any alphabetical order you'd think of, it's just that it'd be based on the Japanese alphabet instead of English. Here is a good reference for the general rules of that order, including voiced consonants:

In Romaji, these kana are phonetically ordered as: a, i, u, e, o, ka, ga, ki, gi, ku, gu, ke, ge, ko, go, sa, za, shi, ji, su, zu, se, ze, so, zo, ta, da, chi, di/ji, tsu, du/dzu, te, de, to, do, na, ni, nu, ne, no, ha, ba, pa, hi, bi, pi, fu/hu, bu, pu, he, be, pe, ho, bo, po, ma, mi, mu, me, mo, ya, yu, yo, ra, ri, ru, re, ro, wa, wo, n (This is ignoring "little" variants since those are never going to be at the start of a word, but it does determine the order of words that do have them in the middle somewhere.)

It may look weird to people used to the English alphabet (you may think it's strange that "pa" comes before "bi" right?) but do keep in mind that Japanese is... well. Not English. This is normal to them!

For a name that doesn't easily fit the Japanese phonetic structure, you'd have to sound it out with kana (and write it out with katakana, since it's a foreign name). Some examples:

Pony, written as ポニー, is read "po-ni-i" (since long vowel sounds are translated in katakana as a long dash), and since it's a name starting with a voiced consonant (po), it would go after names starting with "he" (and its voiced versions) and before names starting with "ma". (If we were sorting characters by first name anyway.)

Peter Parker, written as ピーター・パーカー, is read "pi-i-ta-a / pa-a-ka-a" (again with long dashes translating as long vowels), and would alphabetically go before Pony (in either case of first or last name, since "pi" and "pa" both come before "po"). Also, in case you didn't catch the pattern, the "er" ending in English is most often translated as a long "a" sound!

Richard Grayson, written as リチャード・グレイソン, is read "ri-cha-a-do / gu-re-i-so-n". This is an example of sounds like "gr" that don't translate well in Japanese, so you kind of have to squish two syllables together to get it, with the vowel in the middle being somewhat "silent". The most common "silent" character in Japanese is "u", but I've seen "o" a few times too (see next example).

Mytho or Mute, written as みゅうと or ミュート, is read as "myu-u-to", and can be translated as either of the aforementioned "English" names (because translations aren't a 1-to-1 thing after all). In the example of the "Mute" translation, the silent "o" just kind of sounds better at the end than a "u" does in cases like this.

Thanatos, written as タナトス, is read "ta-na-to-su", and is an example of a name with that silent "u" at the end.

Anthony Stark, written as アントニー・スターク, is read as "a-n-so-ni-i / su-ta-a-ku", and is another example of translating sounds that don't exist in Japanese ("th" in English becomes "s" or "z" in Japanese, and "st[x]" becomes "sut[x]") and the silent "u".

Jason Stryker, written as ジェイソン・ストライカー, is read as "je-i-so-n / su-to-ra-i-ka-a", and is another example of translating sounds that don't exist in Japanese, with "Stryker" showcasing that it uses the "st[x] -> sut[x]" rule AS WELL AS a silent "o" rather than the usual silent "u".

Class number is just based on where they are in the alphabetical order (ie. Aoyama is No.1 because he has the earliest alphabetical character in his surname, "a". Ashido is No.2 because, while she also has an "a" surname, "shi" comes after "o" in the Japanese alphabet).

So for instance, if Richard Grayson was added to 1-A, he would have a seat between Kirishima and Koda since his surname starts with "gu" (in the Japanese writing system!), and his class number would be No.9! Koda and everyone else after him would have their number pushed accordingly. If Peter Parker were added to this same class, he would be between Bakugou and Midoriya!

I hope this helped, and will help others too. Thanks for the ask! (Also thanks for saying so, I feel like no one actually uses the templates at all...)

Anyway, plus ultra and all that!

[universaladhd]

Helloo peoplezz!!!! I wanted to zay, the poob azkblog i made haz been pretty inactive and i wanna uze it!! Zo im juz putting it up here again! Zorry for the mezzy doodle, im st zchool and on my phone :P

POOB ASKBLOG: @partytimezwpoob !!

Alzo!! Im making an azkblog for my oc BedBug! Hopefully that will be upp zoon :3

[postsofbabel]

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[i43tv]

i wanna drw but im zo bad st drraienf (⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)(⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)(⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)(⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)(⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)(⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)(⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠)

[nyxitycatboy]

they r firing cannons st the ship but im the eepiest sailor zo im staying in bed using shark okushie as pillow

[fransopdefiets]

17-6 Hamar

Gisterenavond werd het een pitabroodje met kebab, ui, tomaat en groene pepers, bedekt met een dikke laag witte en bruine smurrie. Calorierijk was het zeker, want ik heb afgelopen nacht geen honger gehad.

Op de camping heb ik nog wat gelezen in Terry Pratchett en met Mayke gebeld, die weer thuis is. ‘s Nachts begint het af en aan zachtjes te regenen en tegen de ochtend regent het stevig door. Zo om een uur of half tien begint de regen af te nemen, ik heb dan alles al droog ingepakt met uitzondering van de tent zelf. Ik vouw de natte lappen zo goed en kwaad als het gaat op, stop ze in de grote gele tas en off we go.

Het begint met een lange route over een oude spoorbaan langs het Mjøsa Meer en dat gaat goed totdat ik oo wegwerkzaamheden stuit. Deze

onverwachte tegenvaller bestaat uit een steile klim van 1,5 km, maar wordt beloond met een wegrestaurant op de top. Koffie! Helaas zijn alle koeken en cakes uitverkocht, maar als troost krijg ik de tweede bak gratis.

In Tangen sla de lunch in voor een picknick en als ik na een pittige klim over een gravelweg een picknicktafel zie, denk ik, hoera het hoogste punt, tijd voor de lunch. Maar wat een deceptie, het hoogste punt van vandaag ligt niet op 190 maar op 290 meter. En om daar te komen, moet je nog een lange golvende gravelweg volgen, bedekt met een verse natte laag bestaande uit een nog niet ingereden mengsel van zand en leem. Telkens korte steile hellinkjes, gevolgd door nog kortere afdalinkjes en dan weer omhoog ploegen door die zachte bovenlaag. Regelmatig duw ik de fiets omhoog omdat ik het gewoon niet trek. Maar aan alle ellende komt een eind en op een gegeven moment mag ik toch weer naar beneden glibberen.

In de buurt van Stange staat een 13e eeuwse kerk, helaas wel gerenoveerd in de 16e eeuw, maar met een bijzonder beschilderd gewelf. Het is een pelgrimskerk op de St. Olavsroute en binnen word ik vriendelijk begroet door een Noor die me wat te eten aanbiedt.

Dan is het nog drie kwartier naar mijn Airbnb, een tiny house in Hamar. En tiny it is, maar er zit een flinke zonnige tuin bij. Ik ata nog te prutsen met de sleutelkluis als Anton aankomt. Die is achteneenhalf uur onderweg geweest om hier te komen!

Gefietste afstand: 54 km

Gefietste tijd: 4,5 uur

Afstand tot de Noordkaap als je er met een katapult op mikt: 1.319 km

[bottle-of-harpoons]

Small vent

I hate how much this affects me because I know its not a big deal but it makes me feel icky.

I block users when they make content that grosses me out/makes me uncomfortable. I also sometimes block people closely associated with them so I don't get recommended stuff relating to them.

Recently I got a notif that someone (who defended someone who made gross af content) liked my art. I know it can be solved with a simple 'block and move on' but I don't want to reach a level of paranoia where I have to check everyone that likes my stuff.

My blog is supposed to be my own weird little safe space. I don't want to see people who make p*do, inc*st or zo*phile/p*kephile fanfics in my notifs (or people who associate with them/defend that shit).

I don't want to put a DNI because most of the time, people would ignore that, plus I don't want to name the people I'm trying to avoid and be accused of being some stalker.

I know. Real first world problem shit here /j.

Just annoyed at this stuff building up. Sorry for being vague but I don't want people finding out who I'm talking about.

TLDR - Someone who supports someone I don't like liked my art and now I'm salty because I have nothing else going on in my life lol.

[salernoah]

Maandag | 13-05-2024 | 24°C | Salerno | Dag 1

Vandaag had ik mijn eerste schooldag. Ik moest om 8:30 aanwezig zijn in het gebouw van Accademia Italiana, Via Roma. Vanaf mijn appartement is het zo’n zeventien minuten lopen, een route die bergafwaarts voert. Bij aankomst moest ik een schriftelijke toets maken, een dubbelzijdig A4’tje. De reisorganisatie in Nederland had laten weten dat er ook een mondeling examen zou worden afgenomen, maar dit is uiteindelijk niet gebeurd.

Na het maken van mijn toetsje, wachtte ik in het klaslokaal tot de andere studenten binnendruppelden. Het lokaal was voorzien van een digitaal schoolbord (hypermodern) en een tafel waaraan we met z’n allen moesten zitten, waardoor we weinig werkruimte hadden (enigszins pover, vond ik). De les begon om 9:00 en duurde tot 13:00. Mijn klasgenoten waren – helaas – allemaal niet mijn soort mensen: een handjevol senioren, waarvan een Nederlandse vrouw genaamd José (wat Jose, maar dan op z’n Spaans, werd), een paar Duitsers en een Braziliaanse vrouw; drie Japanners, waarvan een die amper iets begreep van de les en waarvan een ander (die tevens naast me zat) last had (en daardoor ik dus ook) van een zeer slechte adem; en als laatst een oerdegelijke (Germaanse?) meid van rond mijn leeftijd. Al met al zeer teleurstellend. Nog teleurstellender was het tempo waarop we door de les sukkelden. Ik ben blij dat ik thuis in Den Haag een privécursus Italiaans heb gevolgd, want die basiskennis helpt me toch wel veel op weg. Daardoor lag het tempo vandaag in de klas te laag voor mij. Niet dat ik alles foutloos maakte, maar ik had geen tien minuten nodig voor het bedenken van twee zinnen, in tegenstelling tot mijn klasgenoten. De lerares heeft me echter verteld dat ze tijdens de pauze overleg zou plegen om te bepalen of ik wellicht naar een hogere klas mag.

Tijdens de pauze ben ik het schoolgebouw ontsnapt en heb ik voor €1 een vierkanten focaccia bij een bakkertje gekocht. Het was superzonnig weer vandaag en aangenaam warm. Achter onze school ligt de zee, met aan de rechterzijde bergen op de achtergrond en aan de linkerzijde de haven van Salerno.

Na school heb ik een beetje door de straten geslenterd, niet goed wetende wat te doen. Ik ben daarom maar door het centrum gelopen, wat erg klein bleek te zijn. In gedachten begon ik mijn brief aan Cypress te schrijven, met daarin mijn bevindingen van Salerno. Hieruit is het idee voor een blog ontstaan. Zo ben ik erachter gekomen dat Salerno me erg aan Spanje doet denken, al lopen de mensen hier gelukkig niet zo sloom als de Spanjolen (groot irritatiepuntje van mij); Salerno is helemaal niet zo toeristisch en ik ben pas een winkeltje met ansichtkaarten tegengekomen, en pas een McDonalds en een Burger King. Daarnaast is het verkeer in Salerno chaotisch, maar minder eng dan in Napels; je moet gewoon een gaatje vinden en oversteken, de mensen hier stoppen wel.

Bij een barretje heb ik voor €1,80 een caffè con latte gedronken. Het barretje bevond zich naast een groenteboer bij wie de knoflookbollen aan een sliert naar beneden hingen. Daarna ben ik terug naar huis gelopen.

Mijn weg terug is makkelijk te vinden. Ik hoef alleen maar omhoog te lopen en het grote Stadio Donato Vestuti te vinden en vanaf daar weet ik de weg. Mijn flat ligt in een rustige wijk met veel omringende, armetierige flats. Het is geen bijzonder gezellige wijk, maar het is er wel veilig. Ik heb me tot nu toe nergens onveilig gevoeld op straat, overal is veel straatverlichting.

Mijn kamer is werkelijk luxueuzer dan ik ooit had gedacht, het heeft meer weg van een hotelkamer dan van een studentencomplex. Ik heb een ruime kamer met een tweepersoonsbed, een tv waarop ik al mijn favoriete series in het Italiaans heb kunnen kijken (I Simpson, CSI en Criminal Minds), een bureau en een eigen badkamer met een fijne douche. Ik heb een superruim balkon met twee deuren die naar mijn kamer leiden. De keuken deel ik momenteel met een vrouw uit Tsjechië die amper thuis is en wier naam ik steeds vergeet.

Vanmiddag heb ik huiswerk gemaakt en een beetje gestudeerd. Omdat ik weinig werkwoorden ken, kan ik me nog niet goed uitdrukken in het Italiaans. Daar moet gauw verandering in komen, wil ik meer kunnen oefenen met spreken. Ook heb ik mijn ticket voor de ferry naar Positano gekocht voor aankomende zaterdag. Vorige zomer las ik het boek An Italian Summer gelezen, dat zich afspeelde in Positano en aan de Amalfi kust. Prachtige gekleurde huisjes en mooie stranden. Ik kijk ernaar uit. Mijn bezoek aan Amalfi bewaar ik voor volgend weekend.

De taalschool biedt ook culturele uitstapjes aan. Vandaag ontving ik het programma voor deze maand en zag ik al een aantal activiteiten die me aanspraken, zoals een rondleiding in Vietri sul Mare (steenworp afstand), een rondleiding door Salerno (elke maandag; ik doe volgende week mee), een seminario waarbij we de Italiaanse handgebaren uitgelegd krijgen, een bezoek aan een limoncellobedrijf (inclusief degustazione), en zo is er nog veel meer. Genoeg te doen dus. Als ik sportiever was geweest en de juiste schoenen had gehad, was ik ook nog mee gegaan op trektocht in de natuur.

’s Avonds heb ik pasta pesto gekookt (lees: spaghetti gekookt en een potje pesto gekocht) en ben ik na mijn avondmaal eropuit gegaan. Ik ben naar de lungomare (waterkant) gegaan en heb foto’s genomen van de bergen en de feeërieke lucht. Buiten was het aangenaam lauw, niet te warm, maar ook zeker niet te koud. In de korte tijd dat ik in stilte het uitzicht bewonderde, werd ik zeker driemaal geprikt door een mug. Toen besloot ik dat het wel welletjes was en heb ik een andere route terug naar huis genomen.

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En dan nog even over mijn reis gisteren: ik was ruim op tijd op Schiphol aangekomen. Eigenlijk onnodig vroeg, want ik vloog door de check-in en de douane heen. Nog nooit zo snel ben ik door het poortje gelopen, waarna ik erachter kwam dat er geen weg terug was en ik voorbij de Appie To Go was gelopen en nu alleen nog maar keuze had uit zielige dure salades, een bruine boterham met kaas voor maar liefst €6,50 of Italiaans eten (maar ja, dat kon ik beter in Italië eten, of niet soms?). Ik zat vast in de Departures 3 hal/hel en vertikte het om zulk duur eten te moeten kopen. Ik had slechts vier proteïnerepen op zak. Na lang wachten vertrokken we. Ik kon niet wachten totdat we stabiel waren, zodat ik mijn slaap kon inhalen. Ik was die dag veel te vroeg wakker geworden en had niet meer in slaap kunnen vallen. Gelukkig kon ik slapen tijdens de vlucht, al werd ik zo nu en dan toch wakker (wat me normaal nooit overkomt).

Om 18:00 landden we in Napels. Het voelde alsof ik al een hele week achter de rug had, maar op het vliegveld in Napels verliep alles snel en vertrok ik al gauw. Ik moest de bus vanaf het vliegveld naar het treinstation nemen, waar ik een treinkaartje naar Salerno zou kopen. Het treinstation in Napels was heel druk en chaotisch. Veel automaten deden het niet en overal stonden rijen. Net zoals in Spanje koop je hier een kaartje met een aangewezen zitplaats. De trein was best luxe. Ik kon even op adem komen.

Het treinstation in Salerno was net zo zielig als het station in Alcala de Henares in Spanje. Vanaf het station moest ik nog twintig minuten naar het appartement lopen. Mijn rugzak was zwaar (zeventien kilo) en mijn tote bag met daarin mijn laptop en zware analoge camera was superonhandig om te tillen. Ik heb gelijk gedoucht toen ik aankwam en daarna boodschappen gedaan (dan merk je pas hoe zuinig je bent). ’s Avonds at ik, met nog steeds niet veel meer in mijn maag dan mijn ontbijt en twee mueslirepen, uit pure trek – en bij gebrek aan vegetarische gerechten – een teleurstellend stukje zalm in een bijzonder typisch restaurantje waar er om 22:00 nog een familie met twee jongen kinderen doodleuk ging eten.

Ik heb zeer goed geslapen die nacht.

[rammgender]

[ID: Two pride flags made of five concentric circles, which from the outside in, are indigo, light blue, extremely dark gray, brown, and beige. In the middle of the first flag is an indigo beamed eighth note icon and in the middle of the second is an indigo ship's wheel icon. /End ID.]

seemannsongic

seemannsongic (zay-mahn-song-ick) - a gender under the rammgender umbrella connected to the song Seemann!

("seemann" + "song" + "ic")

[ID: Two pride flags made of five concentric circles, which from the outside in, are light indigo, off-white, dark orange, muted orange, and mustard yellow. In the middle of the first flag is an off-white beamed eighth note icon and in the middle of the second is an off-white daisy icon with a light gray center and muted orange outline. /End ID.]

riechstsogutsongic

riechstsogutsongic (ree(h)st-zo-goot-song-ick) - a gender under the rammgender umbrella connected to the song Du riechst so gut!

("riechst so gut" + "song" + "ic")

[oldsailors]

6-2 Avigliana

We aten gisterenavond in de Balkankelder, een nogal vreugdeloze bedoening. Er hingen wat mannen aan de bar en in de eetzaal zaten een moeder en dochter en een stel deelnemers aan de run. Dat waren een vader en een zoon, die graag hun verhaal met ons deelden over de aanschaf van hun auto en wat ze er allemaal voor werk aan gehad hadden.

We aten daar een snoekbaarsfilet en Rösti Bombay (u mag raden wie wat at), vooraf kregen we een bordje botersla, rauwkost en flink veel slasaus.

Ons Airbnb is een enorme zolder boven een soort van Keukenconcurrent en dat zien we terug in de keukenhoek, dat aanrecht meet toch al gauw 11 meter. Om kwart over zeven op, we ontbijten en laten twee bordjes en kopjes achter in de groot formaat afwasmachine.

We zijn een kwartiertje voor sluiting bij de start en halen de route voor vandaag op. We kiezen weer voor de korte route, nu van Basel naar Turijn. De opdrachten voor vandaag zijn: 1. Lever de langste spaghettisliert in die je kunt vinden. 2. Smelt twee ons fonduekaas op je hete motorblok en lever een filmpje in van dat proces. We kijken elkaar even aan en halen onze schouders op.

Vanaf Basel rijden we door de bergen naar Balsthal. Dan over de snelweg via Bern richting Lausanne, maar al vrij snel gaan we weer de B-wegen op. We slingeren ons door Zwisterland heen, jammer genoeg is de St. Gottharspas afgesloten en moeten we door de tunnel. Tot ons genoegen zien we ook nog wat sneeuw, oude verpieterde sneeuw weliswaar, maar toch. Vanaf de tunnel is het een lange afdaling naar Aosta en dan naar Turijn over de snelweg. Daar valt niet veel aan te beleven, behalve dat de uitlaat steeds meer lawaai gaat maken en wij steeds meer bij de groep gaan horen. Onderweg komen we voortdurend andere deelnemers tegen dienons dan begroeten met geclaxonneer en sirenes. Dan is het toch wel een beetje jammer dat wij er niks tegenover kunnen stellen.

Onze bnb bevindt zich aan een meertje bij Avigliana en de instructies zijn zo onduidelijk dat we eerst twee keer vastrijden in een soort van niemandsland. Het moet hier prachtig zijn, maar het is stikdonker, dus we krijgen er niet veel van mee.

Dat is ook wel een beetje de tragiek van deze onderneming, je zit de hele dag in de auto, je rijdt door de prachtigste landschappen, je ziet de indrukwekkendste middeleeuwse kastelen en kerken, maar er is geen tijd om iets te bekijken.