#and it would be worth trying to figure out how to make the hotel wifi work on my switch

[fractallogic]

okay. ever since aunt K called me this morning to report that bf was being an idiot and not picking up his FUCKING PHONE when the MORTUARY WAS TRYING TO GET A HOLD OF HIM I've been worried about all of the other things that I need to do, and maybe that I could do some things to help so that we don't have to hope that maybe bf will do them (as the executor of the will). but. she just called to assure me that I now did not have to do anything because bf had gotten his shit together (since I texted him saying HELLO HI CAN YOU DO THIS YET PLEASE HERE'S WHERE YOU CAN FIND A COPY OF HER WILL AND PLEASE TALK TO THE MORTUARY TO OKAY MOM BEING CREMATED THANKS).

so.

that's nice.

now I just need to talk to my brother about when we want a funeral to happen, but I kind of don't want to do that right now. so. i'll wait until saturday. maybe i'll text him but go just to put this thought in your head, we don't have to decide right now, just soon, and then we can take our time doing it (and let the mortuary help us).

...yeah. i'll do that.

[after-witch]

Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Title: Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve broken up with Ransom Drysdale, and you mean it this time. But the freedom that comes with the breakup leads to a series of unexpected coincidences that leave you wondering: was it worth the price?

Word Count: 8955

notes: yandere, mentions of physical abuse, financial abuse, comfort sweaters

Nothing lasts forever. Not even relationships--and certainly not love. What might start off as an intense, passionate relationship can (and did, in your case) eventually fizzle; things that you were willing to overlook when you were absolutely besotted would wear down with time, and eventually they became too much to ignore.

That’s what you tell yourself, what you remind yourself, in the moment after you tell him:

“It’s over, Ransom. We’re done. I’m leaving.”

It couldn’t last forever. Not with his inability to stay sober, not with his tendency to cheat on you with meaningless flings that somehow hurt more than any steamy single-minded affair. Not with his flare-ups of controlling tendencies that left you in tears on the bathroom floor as he asked you to please stop dressing like a slut in front of his family, is that too hard to ask?

You’d asked him to change. He swore he would; he never did. You forgave him, more than once, more times than you could count. But enough was enough. Maybe he thought you were too weak to leave him, especially three years into your relationship, when your lives were becoming so integrated, pushing you towards a potential permanent future. It was a future that left you feeling numb and anxious. Stuck in a marriage with someone who wanted to stay with you but treated you horribly, all the same. And that wasn’t even getting into the family dynamics that left your head spinning.

He stares at you now, and his mouth opens just a little bit in what you know is going to be a barrage of questions, insults, maybe even threats spurred on by your words. But instead he closes his mouth and shakes his head, letting out a soft, bitter chuckle.

“Well, damn. This sucks.” You can see the indent of his tongue in his cheek before he clicks and shrugs. “Guess that’s it then. Need help packing your shit or what?”

His response is so blasé that you’re genuinely shocked and, you must admit, a little hurt. He didn’t even ask for a second chance or beg you to stay or argue with you about your terrible timing because our-vacation-to-Hawaii-is-coming-up. So it’s your turn to look surprised, and you shake your head.

“No, I… already took care of it. It’s at a storage locker.” You didn’t have family left, and your close friends had pulled away from you one by one once you stayed with Ransom time and time again--so you’d had to pay movers to help you pack and transport everything to storage over the weekend, while Ransom was away and you were free to make a clean breakup.

He nods, sticks his hand inside his jacket pockets. He’s looking around the room, avoiding direct eye contact in a clear show of his discomfort. It’s weird seeing Ransom like this--the normally self-assured, cocky Ransom, looking for any excuse not to look at you.

“So… see ya around?” His tone is sincere, if still confused. The idea of you leaving must have really never crossed his mind. The look on his face when he finally faces you again appears genuinely puzzled.

He sticks out his hand and it feels almost comical for things to end this way, particularly considering the nights you’d spent imagining some big blow up, some big fight with Ransom screaming and you firing off the many reasons why it had to end no matter what he said.

But it didn’t go the way you expected at all. It was calm. Easy. A clean break-up.

So you shake his hand and grab your purse and the small roller-suitcase and give a half-hearted wave as you walk out the door; the taxi you’d hired to pick you up is waiting, car running, meter going. You would be staying at a hotel for two weeks, which would hopefully be enough time to find a semi-decent apartment; your credit score had improved so much since Ransom added you to his cards, to a shared checking account, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to get approved.

A new life, one where you could focus on yourself for once, was just around the corner.

**

"I'm sorry, miss, but it's definitely not the reader. The card is declined."

You've had this nightmare before. No, you've lived this nightmare before--years ago when your credit was shit and you ran up your cards and had to face the music in a publicly humiliating display with the longest checkout line you'd ever seen behind you. Only that was years ago, in a little grocery store, and since getting together with Ransom you never had to worry about problems like this. You never had to worry about the shame of not having enough, not being enough.

But this? This was happening now. In an upscale hotel. With your nice purse (a Christmas present) and designer clothes (casual, comfortable) and your cheeks flushed undeniably warm.

The hotel clerk has a tight, sympathetic smile on her face. A coworker who walks behind her glances at you, judging, and you just know he's going to head into some break room and tell everyone but yet another piece of discarded army candy with a declined credit card. You wish you'd kept your sunglasses on.

"Did it, um, say why? I don't--" you plaster a smile on your face, hating the way this all feels familiar, like a part of your past coming back to haunt you. "I don't understand, the card is good."

The clerk's smile flickers, just a bit.

"It says there's a fraud alert on this card. Perhaps you'd better call the company. Or would you like me to call them?"

Fucking. Ransom.

"Oh, oh no, don’t worry about it. I’ll call them myself. I'm so sorry about this." You turn away from the clerk as quickly as possible and step away from the counter, away from the person waiting behind you who will surely have no trouble with their card, away from the clerks giving you a passive side-eye. You lean against a cool cement pillar in the lobby and you know what you have to do.

You have to call Ransom.

You haven't deleted his number yet--you'd planned on calling him today or tomorrow to figure out how to split up your shared finances--so it's easy enough to find the number. It's not so easy to tap his contact, but you have to, so you force yourself to do it and stare at his photo as the call rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello?” Your breath catches but in an instant, when the message continues, you feel stupid. It’s his voicemail. Fuck.

You text him, instead. Emergency. Call right away. And of course: He leaves you on read. Fuck.

You call him again. And again. He picks up on the sixth call, but your heart is racing too hard and sweat is beading down your forehead and it takes you a moment to confirm that the "Hello?" wasn't part of the voicemail message this time. Fuck.

"Um. Hey," you say, keeping your voice as un-royally-pissed-off as possible, because if he did put in a fraud alert then you don't want to risk any additional asshole moves. "So there's something wrong with the card? The one that ends in 8921? The hotel said there was a fraud alert and--"

"Did you really think I'm going to keep paying for your shit if we're over?"

His voice is quick, biting--exactly what you'd expected from him earlier. Somehow it stings even harsher over the phone, where you feel more helpless, unable to avoid his words.

"I thought..." you wet your lips, trying to maintain your cool. "Look, my name is on them, so I thought send you my part of the payments until I can get cards in my own name."

He chuckles, low and short. "Yeah? What, you want to create a payment schedule or something?"

You fight back the annoyance in your tone. You hate having to be the bigger person, but your finances--your life--is on the line. "Yeah, actually, that'd be perfect. It wouldn't be for long. You know I'll pay them on time, I'm not looking to screw you over."

"You're going too pay me on time? For all the stuff you've bought, the stuff I’ve bought for you, this hotel room and god knows what else? How are you going to afford all that?"

He knows you recently earned a promotion at your work. He knows this, because you were so excited about it, and his half-assed congratulations over lukewarm leftovers left you feeling bitter and sad and useless. So you can't help it when bitterness seeps into your voice with your answer. "You know I just got a promotion."

"Did you?" It's said in such a casual tone that it gives you pause, but a moment later he simply hangs up on you.

Fucking. Ransom.

You shove your phone back into your purse, and the clerks at the counter are staring at you. Sweat has trickled down your back and your shirt sticks to your skin ever-so-slightly as you pull away from the pillar and approach the counter, awkward smile and cheeks hot.

"There is an issue with the card, they're working on it, so I’ll just call for a new reservation when it's fixed. I'm so sorry for the mix up!" Your voice is so peppy and high-pitched and fake and you feel like you’re back at your old job, feet aching with falling apart shoes, forced to deal with people returning old toasters laden with crumbs, calming they’d “just bought it the day before and it didn’t work.”

"Of course," the clerk says, and you know this is hotel clerk code for "You're a shitty liar."

You roll your suitcase out of the lobby with tears in your eyes and you shove your sunglasses on as soon as you've cleared the building. You feel exhausted, drained--so you use what little energy you have left to start googling for cheap motels.

**

The room smells musty. You pin the plastic sheet you’d snagged at a dollar store over the comforter and pray it will be enough to protect you from whatever is on the likely unwashed fabric. The TV is broken, there’s no WIFi, and there’s a few suspicious stains on the floor that make you wonder if this hotel has ever been featured in a porno, true crime show, or both.

But it’s all you could afford with the cash in your wallet. You only had enough cash on hand for 2 nights at a ragtag hotel that offers nightly and hourly rates. You didn’t dare use your debit card or any credit cards with Ransom’s name or information on them.

You just need some sleep. A good night’s sleep to feel renewed and ready to tackle retaking your life, bit by bit. In the morning, you need to go to the bank and withdraw your money from the joint bank account. Then you can reopen an account in your name, get a new debit card, and apply for a few credit cards afterwards.

Sure, it would have been nicer to do this without Ransom being an asshole. But deep down, you suspected he wouldn’t let you have a clean, lets-still-be-friends type of break. Not after all the times he’d pressured you into staying, manipulating you with words and gifts and promises, promises. Promises that were worth shit. 

The sheet crinkles underneath you as you scroll through your messages. You’d texted a few formerly close friends about the breakup earlier, hoping that they’d maybe want to reconnect. So far, you’d been left on read, blocked, and received only one response: “New number, who is this?”

So much for that. Not that you can blame them. There are only so many times they can rush over for a late night intervention in which you tell them every horrible thing Ransom does (he’s controlling, he doesn’t want me to meet with friends without permission, he tells me what I can and can’t wear, he cheats, he lies, he pushed me--)--before they get tired of you returning to him, again and again and again.

The only one who’d been texting you recently--okay, for the past year--had been Ransom. Mostly dick pics. And demands for you to send him something back, which you always did after a while, because you didn’t want to deal annoyed texts or voice messages accusing you of clearly cheating on him or hating him because why else wouldn’t you be willing to send him so much as a sexy selfie to your boyfriend? 

But in between those, there were conversations. Sometimes sweet ones, sometimes thoughtful ones that always made you remember why you fell hard for him in the first place. Late night conversations from when he was off on trips. You try not to wonder if he was fucking someone on each of these trips, if while you were sending him a late night ramble about a TV show and he was humoring you with jokes and quips, he was actually snuggled up with someone else. Laying in bed, naked, laughing at your dumb ass waiting at home.

The not-so-sweet conversations were ones that you had screenshotted and sent to your friends more than once, before they pulled themselves away. Texts asking where you were. Asking who you ate lunch with, and whether or not you were fucking them. Asking why your new office was connected to a certain co-worker’s, and how many blowjobs you had to give to get said new office because you didn’t tell him about the new office until after you were moved in, so you were clearly hiding him. Asking you to send him outfit pics so he could approve them or make you change if they were too slutty or not slutty enough or if you were only clearly wearing that halter dress to try to get with the bartender.

Yet your mind had always returned to the nice Ransom, the Ransom who made you laugh and squeezed you hard when had a shitty day of work and let you bury your face in his sweater as you snuggled on the couch. Maybe that’s why it took so long to leave.  You were waiting for him to stop being Ransom and start being the fantasy of Ransom you’d conjured in your head.

Your eyes feel heavy so you plug in your phone, turn the sound off, and lay down on the uncomfortable plastic sheet that crinkled over the pillows. It feels strange to lay on a lumpy mattress covered in plastic, after years of custom-made beds and memory foam pillows and all the other luxuries that Ransom was able to provide.

You try not to think about it too much. While you won’t exactly be indulging in all the luxuries you had with Ransom, but your job pays you well, and you won’t ever have to go back to living hand-to-mouth like you did before. You won’t have to worry about late bills and debt collectors and landlords who come late at night and demand inspections while you’re in your pajamas.

You have work in the morning. You have to get to the bank in the morning. Your thoughts are still buzzing with anxiety as you fall into an uneasy slumber.

**

“I’m sorry, but the account has been closed.”

You feel years of customer service training cracking underneath your skin. You can’t freak out. If you freak out, they won’t feel inclined to go the extra mile. You know this, from firsthand experience.

So you take a shaky breath. “Um, this just--it isn’t possible. It’s a joint account. I’m on the account. There was money in there, you can check--”

“I’m sorry, but the funds were transferred and account has been closed by the other account holder. There’s nothing I can do. I suggest contacting the other party in the account.”

You swallow and nod and walk away, this time having been smart enough to keep your sunglasses on to hide your humiliated expression. Why didn’t you insist on having your own account? Ransom said it was better to keep it joint, so you could just buy stuff whenever you wanted. You’d agreed because it was so generous, something you’d never thought possible at the time, when you were used to having to pay overdraft fees and cringing whenever you checked your balance.

Your fingers tremble as you bring up his contact on your phone. You tap. No answer.

You don’t have time to call him two, three, ten times--you have to get to work. So you steady your nerves. You breathe in, you breathe out. You get in your car and plug your phone in and decide to contact your lawyer. Fuck--your lawyer was Ransom's lawyer. But the anxiety eases when you remember that you’d paid him a retainer fee months ago, and Ransom couldn’t do anything about that. You could at least get a basic consult out of the retainer.

The call ringing sounds muffled through your car’s speaker but it isn’t long before someone answers, and you’re transferred to the lawyer Ransom insisted you have--gotta have a lawyer when you have money, babe--and that you hadn’t spoken to in ages.

“Hi,” you say, voice artificially bright, “this is--”

You don’t get a chance to finish.

“I know who this is.” The lawyer sounds tired, and his tone is curt and clipped. “I’m sorry. I’m no longer able to provide you with any legal counsel.”

You almost miss a red light and regret calling the office while you were driving.

“Is this about the debit card? Because I paid the retainer months ago--”

“The retainer has been refunded into the connected checking account.”

Your voice looses its artificial cheeriness and you stumble over your words in frustration. “That’s--it’s--it was a joint account, which is why I called, Ransom drained it and took everything. Isn’t there something we can do, because that was my money too and--”

“I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel.”

You want to cry. You hate crying, as an adult. It makes you feel weak. Especially on the phone.

“I don’t understand. Why was the retainer refunded? Did--did someone call you?”

He clears his throat into the phone. “I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel. Goodbye.”

He hangs up. Your hands shake.

You pull into the parking lot of your work and park the car and as soon as you do, you hunch yourself over the steering wheel and simply shake in frustration.

You have no bank account. Ransom drained it. You have no credit cards. Ransom blocked them. You couldn’t even talk to a lawyer, because--shock--Ransom made sure you couldn’t. Everything was in Ransom’s name. He insisted on adding you to his accounts, closing out your own paltry ones; insisted that he pay off your credit card debt, and making you close those, too, instead adding you to his cards. It was all to help you out, he said, at the time.

Wasn’t it? He was shockingly not judgmental about the state of your finances, and while you’d put up some protest, you didn’t exactly argue with him when he suggested wiping your debts clean and getting your credit back up. And considering that he wasn’t immune to needing a bail-out now and then (late night calls to his grandfather, snarky comments at his parent’s dinner table, come to mind) maybe he could sympathize with being in over your head. Even if your issues were rooted in poverty and shitty jobs and his were rooted in a total lack of financial discipline and, as you’d later found out, a drug addiction.

Still. He helped you before. He would help you now, once he realized how serious it was. For now he was just--reacting like an asshole, acting childish and ridiculous. He was an asshole. You know this. You’ve known this. You need to call him and meet with him and make him realize how ridiculous he’s being, and he’ll sigh and snark but he’ll agree to stop acting like such an ass.

But first you have to work. Life goes on. Even without Ransom--even with Ransom, screwing you over out of pettiness.

The air conditioning in the lobby is on blast, and the familiar smell of clean furniture and floor cleaner from the late-night cleaning crew is surprisingly comforting. Here, you can forget about Ransom--forget about the cards and the lawyer and the fact that your life has been upended in mere hours. If only until your lunch break, at least.

Anthony is working the front desk and you give him a a soft, if strained smile. There’s something in the smile that he gives you in return that reminds you of the hotel clerk. Sympathetic and judgmental.

Ah. You probably look like--well, less than your best, you realize. You did pack some toiletries in your suitcase but the water in the motel had streaks of brown and you didn’t shower, opting instead to rinse your face with what was left of a water bottle you’d bought earlier and layering on more deodorant to make up for the lack of a proper scrub. You probably looked a bit tired, haggard, not unlike some of the employees who got stuck with big clients the night before their paperwork was due.

Still. Nothing that freshening up in your private bathroom--thank god for the new office--can’t help. So you hit the button on the elevator and take deep breaths as you ride up, intent on working as productively as possible. The doors open and you navigate the familiar maze of open-plan desks for the lower-tier workers, desks surrounded by half-walls that always kept you staring straight ahead, lest you accidentally glance over and see a co-worker picking their nose.

Yet as you weave in-and-out of the familiar rows, heading towards the back of the room where the real offices, the ones with full walls and doors and privacy glass lay, you can’t help but feel that something is… off. 

No one calls out to greet you, though that can be easily attributed to the jealousy over your promotion. You’d been working there for far less than most of the lower level workers--Ransom got you the job, with his connections and a hefty revision of your resume and, you assume, some personal phone calls--and you’d already been promoted to senior management. That wasn’t technically Ransom’s work, though. That was all your own effort, your own blood, sweat, tears and intense devotion to each project that came your way. Sure, the connections he helped you make, the dinner parties, all that helped--but if it weren’t for your skills, the connections wouldn’t have made a difference. Right? 

Still, whatever bitterness existed in the people hunch in open-air cubicles, the receptionists always greeted you. But today they caught your eye then awkwardly glanced down, or pretended to be looking for something in their drawers. It was odd. Did you look that bad? That out of sorts?

You shake off the heavy feeling in your stomach and for once, you shut the door to your office instead of keeping it open for passers-by or people needing approval for this-and-that. It feels good to lean against the solid wood door and take a breath, a deep one, invigorating and calming.

A quick trip to the bathroom has you staring at yourself from all angles. You don’t look that bad, you reason. Just tired. But who wouldn’t be, sleeping on a plastic sheet in the shittiest motel in the area? You take a quick sniff under your arms but even that reveals nothing much but a faint hint of sweat and powdery deodorant.

There’s a firm knock at your office door and you glance at the mirror for a final once over before opening it up. It’s your boss. Did you have a meeting? You try to do a mental scan of something you’ve missed, but nothing comes to mind.

“Hi,” you say, wavering with uncertainty at the threshold. Should you invite him in? “What can I do for you? We didn’t have a meeting, did we?” You let yourself chuckle, dry and quick. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit scattered this morning.”

Your boss doesn’t return your chuckle, which immediately raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Something was wrong. Shit--you were working on a major project for a seriously important client. The type of client that could genuinely make or break a company, if you got on their bad side. You press your lips together and make a silent vow to keep it serious.

“I’d like to keep this conversation private.” His tone is low and serious and you invite him in without a second thought, shutting the thick door behind you, trying to ignore the way everyone was shooting glances as it closed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your thoughts race--no wonder everyone was giving you the stink eye. Something was wrong with the client, and you were the one making primary contact with them.

Your boss takes a seat on the leather sofa pushed up against the wall and you immediately set yourself down behind your desk.

He sighs. Short. Frustrated. Annoyed.

“We have to let you go.”

The words don’t register.

“Go where?”

It’s only after you say it that you realize what he said, what it meant, and you feel like a colossal moron in every respect.

“It’s not working out,” he continues, staring at your desk and not at your face. “Since you’ve only been in this position for a month, you don’t quality for senior severance. The best we can do is to pay you what you’ve earned this week.”

Your mouth is so dry that you don’t know if you can talk. Your hand fumbles on your desk for a water bottle you’d left overnight, and that’s when you see it--the photo frame. You keep a photo of yourself and Ransom, cuddled together for a selfie, on your desk. The photo was lying on your desk, frameless, ripped in half--leaving only your vacantly smiling face staring up at you.

Ransom was here.

“Did he put you up to this?” You whisper. “Did Ransom tell you to fire me?”

You know he won’t answer. But you stare at him so fervently that he can’t help but look up at you, and you see it all in his eyes, in the subtle, embarrassed expression of his face.

You can imagine Ransom strolling in--maybe he called first--and settling in for a private audience with your boss in his office. He’d probably pull the chair up to the desk and put his feet on it, just to be an ass. Then he’d bring up… you. And why you had to be let go. Did he give a reason, did he tell your boss why a respected employee who he once secured a position for, who shot up the ranks through intense effort and work, needed to be fired? Did he even need to give a reason?

“This is absolute bullshit,” you say, finally, voice dry and hoarse and bitter. You want to say you’ll be contacting a lawyer. That this won’t stand. But you know--and he knows--that there’s nothing you can do.

Your boss stands, slow, and sighs again. “I’m sorry it had to end this way. Pack up your things as quickly as possible.”

He leaves, and you keep your eyes trained on the ripped photograph to avoid seeing the expressions of the people in the doorway before your boss mercifully shuts the door.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

You don’t have much effort left.

**

Your things consisted of a handful of personal items, little touches you’d brought in to make your office feel more like “you.” A nice picture print. A pastel afghan to drape over the couch. A stapler with a floral design. You have the strong urge to dump them in a trash can, but that’s quickly quelled by the realization that you can’t afford to buy new things, or any things, at this point.

You don’t care if wearing your sunglasses as you power walk to the elevators makes you look stupid. You know someone, somewhere in this office is filming you and probably captioning it with something stupid to post to their Reels or TikTok, and it just makes you leave faster. A few people murmur comments your way, sympathetic in tone, but you’re not really listening. None of their platitudes matter, because Ransom was here, in your workplace, in your office, and he stole the thing you were most proud of from under your feet.

To his credit, when you reach the bottom floor, Anthony practically fumbles out from behind his desk and holds the door open for you. He mouths a “Sorry” and he probably is, but he’s probably used to dealing with rich assholes like Ransom who get what they want, when they want it; even when what they want is to fire a good employee on demand for very personal reasons.

The sun is beating down hard, even for the morning, and the stress of your situation makes you blast the air conditioning as soon as you get in the car. God, the car--how are you going to afford the payments? You wish you could call your mom. You wish your friends--are they even your friends, anymore?--would call you back.

You grab your phone from your purse and stare at the black screen. Maybe you should call the friend who didn’t block you. She would answer, if you called, because she knew you didn’t make calls unless it was serious. She might not rush to your side, but maybe she can offer you a place to stay, a couch, some advice. A kind word would do, right now, with how much anxiety and frustration has been packed into the last 12 hours.

But when you unlock your screen, your gut sinks. Five missed calls. From the storage company. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You tap their number and bring the phone to your ear and pretend that your hands aren’t shaking.

The man who answers is the same one you talked to on the phone before, when setting up your move. “Hello, Move’nSecure Storage Company. This is Steve speaking. How many I help you?”

“Hi Steve!” You hate how chipper you sound. “I actually just got a few missed calls from you guys, I’m sorry, I was in the office and--”

“Oh.” His voice is surprisingly flat, suddenly flat, losing its customer service inflection in an instant before picking it back up. “Yes. We’ve been trying to reach you. For confirmation, the storage locker your purchased is A443, correct?”

You fumble in your purse for the receipt and confirm the little numbers printed neatly on the paper. “Yes, A443. Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” You’re grateful that you didn’t have much for breakfast because you know it would be clawing its way back up at this point. “The card you gave us for the storage fee was declined.”

The debit card. You’d paid in cash for the move, and paid for 1 month of storage with the card. The card that was now useless, connected to an empty and closed bank account.

“Is there another card you can give us?”

“No, but...” You say, because no, there is not. There is not a card. There is not a job. There is nothing. “But if you could just hold my stuff, I’ll be there in less than a hour to get it.”

“We don’t hold items,” Steve tells you, a rehearsed banality to his tone. “Your items are currently outside the unit.”

You instinctively want to yell at Steve but, fuck fuck fuck, you’ve been there, behind the counter, dealing with people who couldn’t pay for shit and then had the nerve to get upset with you. “All of it?” You ask, your voice cracking slightly.

“Yes.”

You hang up, and toss your phone onto the passenger seat. The quicker you get there, the less chance that something will get broken or stolen or who knows what else.

The trip to the storage unit seems to take forever, and when you arrive you don’t even take a second to lock your car doors. Instead you sprint inside, startling Steve--looking at his phone, then at you, then at the sign plastered up on the wall leading to the storage locker floors. He points. Row A, separated into 100s, 200s, 300s, and--your number--400s.

You don’t remember if you say ‘thank you,’ because you’re speed-walking down the hallway and following the signs and it isn’t long before you see it: a storage locker with tons of stuff piled up, dumped, outside the now-empty unit where it was supposed to be safe and sound. Waiting for you to get an apartment and pick it back up and rearrange it into your new life, your new “you.”

The problem is immediate: You can’t fit all this in your car. You don’t know anyone who could take the stuff for you. You mind reels for options and the only thing you can come up with is ferrying your belongings to and from the hotel. You can pay for a few more days once you cash your partial paycheck. After that… you don’t know.

Pawn your things? Yeah. That might work. You can get enough cash by pawning most of your stuff, the good stuff. Enough money to get you into a shitty apartment with leaks and a bad landlord. Then you can a job that barely pays rent and you’ll be right back where you started, before you met Ransom. Before you thought leaking ceilings and $20 paychecks after taxes were a thing of the past.

You ignore the humiliation that makes your stomach curl as you take your things out to the car, handful by handful. Steve doesn’t bother holding the door open for you. You mention that you’re going to be back on your way out, and he offers a non-committal hum.

At least when you get to the hotel, the owner sees you fumbling with boxes and offers to help you out. It takes less time with two hands to get everything in the room, and once it’s locked up you head back out to the storage units.

You keep your sunglasses on for the second trip into the storage unit, even though you don’t know Steve or care what he thinks. He doesn’t look up when you walk in and it’s just as well, since you’re only heading back to the A-400s and don’t need his non-existent help.

But the sight that greets you when you round the corner to your unpaid-for storage locker makes your blood run cold.

Your stuff is gone. All of it.

You rush back to the desk, where Steve does look up, startled by your urgency.

“My stuff,” you spit out, “My stuff is gone! Someone took it!”

Steve shrugs. “Sorry.” He points to a sign behind him: “We are not responsible for the loss of items inside or outside storage lockers.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” You can’t the anger in your voice this time. “You just watched someone walk off with my stuff and didn’t say anything?”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “If it was that important, you shouldn’t have left it here. Or you should have given us another card.”

You feel like throwing your hands up but you just clench your fist and storm out the door, huffing as you reach your car. The anger melts into the sense of loss, the realization that you only have a few meager items that you’d managed to collect; you picked the lightest stuff, first. And in retrospect it was things that didn’t matter much at all. Clothes. Hair supplies. Makeup. You should have grabbed the box with your USB sticks, your memory cards, your photo albums; your personal mementos and sentimental shit. Instead you grabbed the box with your shampoo.

At least the clothes might get something in a pawnshop. The makeup, too, on Facebook or Depop or Instagram. But it wouldn’t be enough to put you up in an apartment. You’ll have to live in your car. Until they repossess it for lack of payment.

You don’t have your bank account, your credit cards, your job, a place to stay, or your personal possessions. And soon, you won’t have your car.

You have no friends. No boyfriend. No family.

All you have $20 left in your wallet and well, fuck it. You grab some McDonalds on the way home because, fuck it, and eat all the fries before you make it to the motel. The thought of eating in your dirty room makes your stomach turn and you decide to eat everything else you bought, the burger and the shake and the chicken nuggets too, tossing the wrappers on the floor. It feels like deja vu--getting cheap fast food to make you feel full, tossing trash on the floor of the passenger seat, all bringing back the way you used to when you’d grab something from the dollar menu on your way to work at the call center.

You almost wish you could stay at this hotel, brown water and all. The owner is decently nice. He smiles at you when you enter and doesn’t bring up that you didn’t come back with more boxes, like you said you would.  

You’re surprised at how grateful you feel for the dingy hotel room now that you won’t be able to stay here more than another day. Now that the alternative is sleeping in your car, then sleeping on the street, if you were lucky.

Your phone feels heavy when you set it on the table and stare at the home screen. Another photo of you and Ransom stares back up at you. You haven’t had time to change it up yet. He’s grinning. You’re smiling. It’s a good photo. You try to place it in your memory, try to remember what beach that was, but your trips blur together and you can’t.

Should you call him? If it was just the cards, just him being petty over credit and finances, it was one thing. You could try to placate him with returning gifts, just asking him to give you what you put in from your own paychecks. But making you lose your job? It was too far, too fucking far. And there was no going back from that. Fuck, someone was probably moving into your office as you sat in this dimly lit room mourning the loss of your entire life.

For a brief, very fleeting moment, you consider calling Harlan. You weren’t exceptionally close, but he seemed to like you well enough. He’d even asked you once, puling you aside at a tension-filled family party, if Ransom treated you right, told you to tell him if he ever got to be too much. Harlan felt like Ransom’s keeper--in more ways than one. You could never tell Harlan about the shouts or the occasional bruises from when Ransom really, really lost his temper--it’s not like you could prove them, anyway, as Ransom made sure to keep you away from his family when he lost control like that. No need for excuses about running into doors when he made sure you looked your best at family functions.

But the thought of breaking the uneasy stasis that Ransom had with the most significant member of his family made you want to vomit. There would be no coming back from that, and you knew better than to cross any line involving the great Harlan Thrombey.

You could call your friend--ex-friend? The one who didn’t block you or forget your number. You should. No, you will. Because what else do you have to lose.

But before you can bring up her number, you get a text--Ransom. It’s a photo and your curiosity gets the better of you as you click the notification.

“What the fuck?”

He’s sent you a photo of his car, trunk open. It’s filled with boxes, odds-and-ends. It’s filled with your stuff.

You text him: What??

He texts back: Hey. I’m in front of the hotel. Come out? Bring your suitcase. :P

It’s your stuff. It’s his car. He’s here. All reason is thrown aside as you grab your suitcase and purse and rush down the hallway, ignoring the owner’s confused response from behind his desk as you push open the front doors and look around the parking lot.

His car is parked to the side, not in front of the hotel’s glass double doors. He’s standing outside his car, leaning against it. He takes off his sunglasses and tucks them in his pocket when he sees you approaching, face confused and fuming all at once.

“What the fuck, Ransom, what the fuck is your problem--”

“Hey, hey,” he says, hands up in defense, “You’re not even going to thank me for picking up your stuff?”

You feel suddenly, impossibly rooted to the spot.

“What do you--what? You took my stuff?”

He shrugs. “C’mon, did you really think I’d just leave your stuff in some shitty storage unit? Someone would’ve taken it if I didn’t get there first.”

You swallow. “Why?” You ask, because Ransom never does anything for no reason. Or so you’ve learned.

His expression loses a bit of its cocky casualness. He tilts his head a bit, looking at you as if you’ve asked a particularly offensive question.

“Why do you think?”

To lord it over you? To make you think your stuff was gone and make you worried, sick, crazy?

“I don’t know,” is what you settle for in the end. “I really, really don’t. You--” You lick your lips, and try to calm down, calm the pitter-patter of your heart, and think before you speak. “You’ve done some pretty messed up stuff today. My job?” The last question comes out soft and pained, and you know your eyes are starting to tear up.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and placating and it makes your stomach flip as he approaches you, standing there on the sidewalk with your purse and suitcase. “Hey, c’mon. Don’t cry on me.”

You know this Ransom. The Ransom that holds you and pets your hair and offers to get Thai food delivered even though he doesn’t like it just to make you happy.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and you jerk it away. “Don’t.” That Ransom is a fantasy. Or an incomplete version, the version that pretends he doesn’t lie and cheat and hurt you in more ways than one. “Don’t you fucking dare, especially not after what you pulled today. My job? My job, Ransom? You’re a--a fucking asshole.”

He puts his hands up again, defensive, and takes a step back. But he doesn’t return to his car, and stays just a few steps in front of you.

“Look. Call me an asshole. Sure, fine, I can admit that. But do you know what else I am?”

He waits a beat, waits for you to look at him, before he continues. “I’m a realist. I like facts. And the fact is? You aren’t much without me. No job, no credit cards, no bank account. Without me, you’re just some broke chick scrambling to get an apartment in the shittiest part of town, working a dead-end job that don’t pay shit. With me though…. “

He leaves the words unfinished, but you know what he means. Flashes of your life, cocktails and smart business outfits and dinners at restaurants you didn’t even dream about attending before you met him. Phone calls with shakers in the industry and social media requests from people you’d never dream you’d meet. Connections that meant something, a career path, dinner parties with people who could offer tangible benefits to your career and your life.

It wasn’t that he spoiled you. He wasn’t a sugar daddy. You weren’t getting gifts for blowjobs. It was that his presence in your life boosted you, socially, financially, mentally, physically, in every which way possible.

His presence got you a job that you loved, which meant you weren’t burnt out when you came home, which meant that you had the time and energy to spend hours catching up on books or redecorating the house or watching movies. Good money meant you could order in whenever you felt like it, meant you didn’t have to worry if you burned dinner because you could just buy new steaks or order-in or go out, last minute, and still get a great table. It meant you had all the clothes you wanted, stylish and personally tailored; it meant you had easy access to a gym and exercise equipment and an indoor pool to keep you healthy. It meant you had a life that provided comfort in every way possible.

Being with Ransom Drysdale was like… like a little shot of privilege directly into your arm.

Privilege that he took away just as easily as he gave it. Just as easily as you took it. Just as easily as you took it and eagerly ignored the dark side underneath. Or maybe you didn’t ignore it. Maybe you liked it, maybe it reminded you of who you were underneath the designer clothes and expensive dinners.

Maybe you wanted to fix him, like he fixed you? He wasn’t totally bad, after all, he did make sure no one took your belongings. Maybe it was your presence that gave him the idea for that touch of sympathy, maybe with Ransom change was slow and muddled, not picture-perfect sweeping changes like the kind in movies.

“So?” Ransom’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Are you going to come home or,” he waves his hands around dismissively, at the hotel, at you.

You feel very, very less-than right now. You look awful, your hair mussy and your makeup mostly melted off with sweat and sun. You probably smell more than you normally do, thanks to the lack of a shower. Your muscles, sore from the motel bed, ache for the large spa bathtub that Ransom had installed in the master bathroom just for you, stocked with bubbles and salts and overpriced bath bombs that were $10 a pop.

But your muscles had hurt before, when he pushed you against the dresser.

You have nothing, and no one. Except Ransom. Ransom who didn’t judge you when you instinctively saved plastic bottles and boxes, but merely nudged you towards recycling and took you out to splurge on a reusable water bottle and proper storage containers the next day. Ransom who asked you what sort of job you wanted, really wanted, and made it happen for you. Ransom who shrugged and wiped away your credit card debt without making you feel like shit.

Ransom who didn’t let you leave the house if your wrists were sporting fingerprint shaped bruises. Ransom who argued with you about talking to men, even men at work. Ransom who held you tight at night and said he never wanted to let you go, and wouldn’t you just make a fine-ass addition his crazy family. Ransom who took care of you, now that you had no one else.

“What do you want me to do?” The words feel slow, sluggish. Like they wanted to stick to the roof of your mouth and it took everything in you to get them out.

His voice turns low and serious as he stares at you with an characteristic expression. “Well, the first thing is to get down on your knees…”

You feel your eyes practically bugging out.

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

He laughs. He always did have a nice laugh.

“I’m just messing with you, Jesus. Take a chi-I-il pill. Just grab your purse and come sit your sweet ass in the front seat. Let’s go get some burgers, I’m starving.”

Your legs feel like jelly when you take that first step, and the sound of your roller suitcase as you pull it along seems louder than ever. Ransom pops the truck and you just manage to fit it inside with the handle closed, jamming it in between some boxes at an odd angle. The handle of the passenger side is familiar, warm from the sun.

You open the door and practically shove yourself into the seat, closing the door as fast as possible. You can’t do more than glance at him as humiliation and anxiety and just the smallest bit of relief washes over you. It’s been less than 24 hours since you broke up, and here you are--again.

He’s staring at you quietly, his expression difficult to place. He looks relieved. He looks annoyed. He looks like he wants to kiss you. He looks like he wants to slap you. Maybe he wants to do it all at once and can’t decide which to pick.

Instead, he puts his hand on your thigh. Gives it a squeeze. Hard, bordering on painful.  He’s staring straight ahead, at the worn-out sign on the hotel’s front door, one hand gripping the flesh of your thigh. He looks good in profile. “Don’t ever try to pull something like that again. I mean it. I really mean it.”

You turn, glance out the window, familiar tears at the edge of your eyes.

“I won’t,” you whisper, dreaming of the tub and bubbles and how good a warm soak will feel on your back, on your thighs, on your soul.

“Good girl,” he says, patting your thigh firmly. He plucks his sunglasses out of pocket and puts them on in a smooth motion. The car starts smoothly, its fine-tuned and expensive engine a familiar sound, and your hands feel robotic as you pull the seatbelt over your chest and click it tight.

“Let’s get dinner and get home. You have some unpacking to do.”

[atlafan]

could u maybe write something ab harry and the reader reuniting after taking a break for a while 🥺 just something a lil angsty and fluffy

a/n: oh wow, I’ve actually been wanting to write something about this for a little bit, let’s see what I can whip up! Less angst in this than I thought, but super fluffy. Hope you liked it! This is an au, so ya boy’s not famous. 

New York to London

It wasn’t easy, but you both decided to take some time apart. You both just graduated from college, and you needed to figure out what you were doing for jobs. If you needed to move somewhere for work, neither of you wanted to hold the other back. You were in love, but you were still so young. If it was meant to be, it would happen, right? 

You ended up in New York. You loved clothes and fashion. Were a marketing major with a minor in art. You found yourself living in a cozy apartment on the upper east side, working remotely for a clothing app. You got to design and select outfits for people. It was sort of like Stitch Fix. Working from home allowed you to fill up your sketch books with design ideas of your own. Sometimes you would go out and work from the local coffee shop, just to have a change of scenery, of course making sure to buy coffee and food in exchange for the free wifi. 

You and Harry agreed not to really talk, or fill each other in what you were doing. Neither of you wanted to fall into the “please, just come move here with me” trap. You weren’t entirely sure what he was doing, or if he had decided to go back to London altogether. You missed him, and it was a good relationship, but it had definitely run its course. You were with him for two years, you did a lot of growing up together, but you were never certain if he was the man of future. 

Six months into your job, you had started making friends in the city. You found time to go out and enjoy the night life when you could. You had even gone on a few dates here and there, a couple of one night stands when you were sick of using your own devices to get off. Things a lot of young, twenty-somethings did. One day, out of the blue, you got a text from your ex-boyfriend. 

Harry: hi love, is it okay if I still call you that? lol...anyways, I’m in NYC for a few days...work thing...would love to see you if you’re up for it...xx

You take a deep breath when you see the text. You hate the way it makes your heart flutter. You ended up dating Harry in the first place because he always had this way of making you nervous, but in a good way. You always had butterflies around him, and you always found it hard to say no. You were genuinely curious to see how he was doing, and what exactly he did for work, so after waiting precisely twenty minutes, you decide to text him back. 

You: hey! course it’s okay ;p I’d love to catch up! dinner and a drink sound good? 

Harry: sounds great, name the time and place

You and Harry decide to meet up at a restaurant near his hotel that Friday night. You didn’t want to go to some tourist trap, but you knew of a nice place near where he was staying. You made sure to look your best, maybe remind him a bit of what he was missing. You knew he’d do the same. You put on your best little black dress, put your hair up into a sleek high pony, and put on some makeup. You grabbed a pair of red pumps for a pop of color, and into your uber you went. 

It was a nice, spring evening. It was getting warmer out, so you only needed a light jacket along with your dress. You wait in the lobby of the restaurant for him. 

“Y/N?” 

You’d know the sound of his voice anywhere. You turn around and smile. He was almost shocked, you had never looked better. He looked nice. Blue pair of slacks, white button up with the first few undone, and a salmon pink sport coat. Classic Harry. 

“Hi!” 

You wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“You look great.” He says, blushing slightly. 

“Thanks, so do you. I put a reservation in for us online. Wanna see if the table’s ready?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” 

He puts his hands in his pockets and follows you up to the hostess. She checks you both in and leads you to your table a few minutes later. 

“Come here a lot?” He asks as he sits down.

“Sometimes. Been here with some friends.” 

You take your jacket off and hang it on the back of your chair. He gets a really good eye full of you. He smiles when he sees you wearing the necklace he had gotten you for your last birthday. 

“So, you’re in the city for work?”

“Yup, I’m an admissions counselor for a small school up in New Hampshire. I got hired to do a lot of the traveling, so I’m rarely on campus.” 

“Oh, that’s cool. Where else do you travel to?”

“Mostly the state of New York and Massachusetts.” 

“What made you-”

“Hi folks, I’m Max, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start either of you off with a drink?” 

“I’d love a glass of pinot noir please.” You smile.

“Just a Corona for me, thanks.”

“Excellent, I’ll be back in a few minutes with those.” He smiles and walks away.

“Anyways, what made you want to become an admissions counselor?”

“I get to travel with all expenses paid. I really had no idea what I wanted to do after I graduated, so this gives me more time to figure it out. I can explore the various places I go to. S’not like I’m tied down, right?” He jokes.

“Right.” 

He clears his throat.

“So, it seems like the city’s treating you well.” 

“Very well!” You chuckle. “I love it so much. I get to work remotely too, so no one really bothers me, which is great. I’m able to work on my sketches in my down time.”

“Yeah, you’re working for like a clothing subscription service?”

“Mhm, it’s awesome. I love getting to know my clients and all that.” 

“You seem happy.”

“I am. I feel really independent.” 

The waiter comes back over with your drinks. You end up ordering a salad with some grilled shrimp, while Harry opts for a veggie burger. You clink your glasses together.

“So, it’s okay that I texted right?” 

“Of course! I think I’d be a little upset if I knew you were so close by and didn’t even think to say hi.”

“I’ve wanted to reach out for a while, but...I know you said you wanted some space.”

“Well, we both agreed on that.” 

“I guess.” He shrugs. 

“Did we not?” 

“No, we did. I guess all I mean is...I don’t know...takin’ a break has just been weird, that’s all.” 

Before you can respond, your food is brought over. The conversation lightens up a bit as you eat. Harry really enjoys the food. Towards the end, he insists that he pays. You eventually agree to just split the bill. 

“Wanna come see my place? I think you’ll like it, it’s cozy.” 

“Sure! Thought I’d have to work a little harder for you to invite me back with you.” He smirks.

“Oh, stop it.” You swat an arm at him. 

The uber ride back to your place is quiet. He was impressed by the building you were in. He couldn’t believe you could afford such a nice place. 

“So, it’s a studio, but it’s not cramped.” You show him inside. “Like, I can stretch out in the shower.” You giggle. “Got really creative with the storage too.”

“View makes it all worth it, huh?” 

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” You both look out the window together. “Sit, sit. What can I get for you? I have more wine, and some beers int he fridge.”

“Beer’s fine, thanks.” 

He sits down on your small couch while you get the drinks together. You come back over and him a beer.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” You take a sip of your wine. “So, do you, like, have an apartment in New Hampshire?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a small place to call home when I’m not traveling.”

“That’s good.”

“Mhm.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Can I ask you something...sort of personal?”

“Um, sure.”

“You haven’t been, like, hooking up have you?” 

“What?”

“Because I haven’t.”

“I never told you not to.”

“So, does that mean you have?”

“Harry...we’re not together, we’re broken up.” You frown and so does he. 

“A break is different from a break up, though, right?”

“We agreed to end things so we could go off and find our career paths. I mean, I think about you a lot, but I guess I didn’t really think we’d actually get back together. It’s been six months, Harry.”

“I know...”

“I mean, I’m not seeing anyone. I’ve had a few dates here and there, but nothing serious. I don’t really have time for it.” 

“Me neither...I guess the only difference is I haven’t wanted to even be with anyone else, random or not.” 

“I find that very hard to believe.” You scoff. “If there was a day I couldn’t see you, you’d tell me how touch starved you were.”

“That’s true, but it was your touch I was starved for, no one else’s. You know me, I was never the hook up guy as it was. It’s gross.” He takes another sip of his drink. “Do you always hook up with different people or-”

“No.” 

He nods his head.

“How many have there been?”

“What does it matter?” 

“Just wondering if I need to catch up or something.” He scoffs. 

“Harry, we never agreed on not hooking up with other people, we never even talked about it.”

“Because I just assumed we wouldn’t! Don’t you miss me?” 

“I miss being in college and having zero responsibilities.” You sigh. “I try not to think about what I miss about you too much. And no offense, but I’ve actually begun a career. You’re still figuring things out. It wouldn’t good if we tried to get back together right now. I like living alone, and-”

“Alright, I get it, you’re better off without me.” He rolls his eyes.

“That’s not what I meant.” You put your hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs it away. 

“Do you think I like not being good enough? I’d give you the world if I could, but I literally have zero idea what I’m passionate about. I feel like I wasted four years of my life. Now when I talk with these kids on where they want to go to school and the reasons they want to go...” He shakes his head. 

“You’re a people person, you’ve always been that way. You have a stage presence to you. A room lights up when you walk in.”

“S’not exactly a transferable skill, love.” 

“You’ll figure it out, Harry. I know you will.” 

//

A year or so later you heard from a mutual friend that Harry moved back to London. He had gone off into the world of PR, and he was thriving. Your job had lead you to some opportunities to go to London, they had even asked you if you wanted to relocate there. Many of the clothing lines they had were exported from there, and they wanted you more on the buying team since you had such a great eye. You said you’d consider it and go for a visit to check things out. You and Harry hadn’t talked much since he had seen you in New York, but you wanted to pay him the same courtesy he given you. 

You: Hey, Harry! It’s Y/N...I’m coming to London next week for a work thing. Might even be relocating there! I was wondering if you’d like to get together. Maybe you can tell me how great the city is, lol

You had deleted the text about five times before actually hitting send. Two hours later he got back to you. 

Harry: Did you think I deleted your number?! Of course I know it’s you! That sounds great, let me just check over my schedule with my assistant and I’ll get back to you on when would work. 

You: wow, an assistant, how fancy are you? 

Harry: she keeps my head on straight, that’s for sure

You: well, I’m looking forward to seeing you...it’s been too long!

Harry: I agree

And just like that, you had butterflies in your stomach. You hoped maybe he was single, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he was seeing someone. He was a girlfriend guy, and you had basically told him you weren’t getting back together last time you spoke. 

You were given a wonderful tour of the office you’d potentially be working in. Everyone seemed friendly, and you certainly wouldn’t be the only American working there if you decided to accept. 

Towards the end of the week, Harry invited you over for a dinner at his flat. You were surprised he didn’t want to go out. Maybe you’d be starting at his flat and then go to a club? You were dying to see how the London night life compared to New York’s. You take a cab to his flat and text him when you’re there. He comes downstairs to meet you outside. 

“Harry!” You practically squeal. You wrap your arms around each other for a nice embrace. “It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too. Driver found the place okay?”

“Mhm.” You smile.

“Come on up. Just got dinner on the table.” 

He leads you upstairs. Your jaw drops when you see how spacious his flat is. It was a one bedroom with a nice open concept. It looked like he entertained quite often. He had a bar set up in the living area. 

“This is beautiful.”

“Thanks. Figured I could afford a nice place, why not have one?” He shrugs. 

You use his hall bath to freshen up. He has you sit down at his dining table. He had made curry. 

“This smells so good, thanks so much for cooking.”

“I figured you’d enjoy a real meal after eating out all week.”

“You figured right, thank you.”

“Oh stop.” He sits down. “Just eat, yeah?” 

You moan after tasting the food.

“This is delicious.”

“Thanks.” He smirks. “So, do you think you really might move here?”

“I might, yeah. It seems like a really big step up for me.”

“No one back in New York to miss you?”

“Nope.” You grin. “Other than the few friends I’ve made.” You shrug. “My family is really supportive too.”

“That’s great. I’m really glad I came home. I feel like once I did the opportunities came flying in. I love PR. I make phone calls, set up events. And I get to meet so many cool people.” 

“And you have an assistant.” You chuckle.

“S’not what you think. She’s not some young thing that’s enthralled with me. She’s like forty years old, has a couple of kids that don’t need her home with them anymore. She’s a great help though. I actually requested someone a little older.”

“Why’s that?”

“Some of the younger girls in the interview, when they actually came to speak with me, I don’t know, I just kept getting this weird vibe.” 

“It’s because you’re so captivating. You’re intimidating, but charming.” You take another bite of food. “Sexy.” 

“Oh, gimme a break.”

“I’m serious! You always made me feel nervous when we first started talking. You would always really sit back and observe the room before talking. You can be quiet sometimes. But that was you then, that’s just a version of you that I know, you could be different now.”

“I’d like to think so. Although, I think I’m just a good listener. I definitely like reading a room before I join a conversation.” 

“I’m so happy to see you doing well.” You take a sip of your drink. “So...any lucky ladies or fellas in your life?” 

“No.” He laughs. “M’way too busy for all that. I mean...I’ve had some fun here and there, I’m not celibate.” He takes a sip of his own drink. “What about you?”

“Nothing serious.” You shrug. “I haven’t minded being focused on my career, you know? I have a good work-life balance, don’t get me wrong, but like if I were in a relationship right now, I may not be making this move.” 

“Tell me, if I didn’t live here would you still consider moving?”

“I don’t know. It’s a huge plus knowing I’d have someone close by, someone I know to show me around. If you had the time of course. You could even tell me what the good neighborhoods to live in are.” 

“You could get a flat here. It’s a really nice building to be in. I bet you’d be able to afford it if I can. They want you to be a buyer?”

“Yeah, my boss thinks I have a great eye, and I always get the highest ratings from my clients.” 

“That’s wonderful. I’m happy for you. I know last time we saw each other it didn’t seem like it, but I was really confused about the direction my life was going. I wasn’t happy.”

“You’re happy now?”

“Very much.”

“Good.” You put your hand over his. “It’s all I ever wanted for you, to be the best version of yourself.” 

“Same here with you.” He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. “I got some chocolate covered strawberries for dessert. Wanna move to the sofa?”

“Sure!” 

You both sit down on his large sectional. You dive into the sweet treat. 

“Do you entertain a lot?”

“Sometimes, yeah. I like it better than going to some stuff club. You can be out until four in the morning if you’re not careful.” He laughs. 

“Well, I’d love for you to take me out to a club sometime.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice, love. I’ll take any excuse to dance with you.” His dimple peeks out in his grin, and it makes you melt. “When do you have to give them your decision by?”

“A few days. I’m headed back to New York tomorrow night.” 

“How’s your hotel been?”

“It’s nice...not as cozy as this though.” You lean back into the cushions and look up at him. 

“Yeah, I definitely don’t miss that about working in admissions. Different hotels all the time sounds like fun, but when you just wanna do your laundry and you can’t, it gets old really quick.” 

“I can imagine.” You make a bold move and rest your hand on his knee. This time when you touch him he doesn’t shrug you away. “I think I may move here. I can home here and you can cook for me all the time, or you could bring me to your fancy parties.”

“Is that so?” He scoots a little closer to you. “It would get some people at the company off my back. They’re always askin’ why I never have a date to anything.” 

“And why don’t you?”

“I don’t know, I’m there to work, not bring arm candy with me.” 

“Ah, but that arm candy can help you network. I’m impeccable at networking.”

“Alright, so you’ll be my date then when I need one, is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s what I’m saying.” You smile. 

“What about when there’s no fancy party? Can I call you for a date?” 

“I’d like that.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” 

“Can I please kiss you?” 

You nod yes. He leans in, cups your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours. They were soft, just like you remember. He takes them away a little too quickly for your liking though. 

“What’s wrong?” You frown.

“I just don’t wanna, like, rush this, that’s all. I don’t even know what this is, but whatever it is, I don’t wanna mess it up this time.”

“Harry, you never messed anything up. We did the right thing before. I think we’re both in a place where we could have room to be together again. But, I think you’re right, one step at a time. Let me actually accept the job and move here before we dive into anything.”

“Exactly.” He sighs happily. “Okay, I’m gonna kiss you again, and then I’ll drive you to your hotel.” 

You giggle as he smooches you again and again. Harry never really ever stopped loving you, and you could tell. You never really ever stopped loving him either. 

[hangryandlazy]

africa jul 19

wow lol it’s taken me 2 years to actually put this post together. a LOT has changed since then and it makes me immensely happy to recognize how lucky we were that we’d had 2 insane years of travelling right before the pandemic hit. but this post is not to dwell on that, so let’s get on with it!!

this was our amazing 2019 africa trip~

jun 30, 19 ••• we make our way from hong kong to the netherlands on klm airlines. i distinctly remember how impressed i was with the quality of service and the comfort of the 12ish hour flight. after around 16 hours of commute, we just want to stay in and chill, so we order room service and call it a night early. i recall wearing a fun t-shirt that read, “not to be rude, but shut the fuck up” which i personally find hilarious and endearing, but which made the guy at the front desk quite uncomfortable. lollll oops!

jul 1, 19 ••• yay! we had a full day alone in amsterdam. we (i) decided to walk from the hotel to the town center, because it’s fun experience new cities by exploring them on foot!! why not? you come across many things that you just couldn’t have planned to find.

look how beautiful the canals in amsterdam are! anywhere you turn, it’s picturesque.

we had lunch at wagamama because i saw that the avant garde vegan, gaz oakley, had done a collaboration with them at some point, so there are some guaranteed vegan options. we then walk around the bloemenmarkt and find our way to the cannabis college, which had 2 verdampers for rent! yesssss! i was so happy. 

we explored and walked around more, then stopped by a coffee shop to smoke a bit more. there was a lovely vegan cafe right next door, which i’d been eyeing when we went in to smoke, so we had a top up on coffee and matcha there. we saw a cute frenchie across the road and missed the dogs so...

we had dinner at this place called cafe frijdag (which means Friday!) which was delicious! so happy that amsterdam had vegan options for me

jul 2, 19 ••• we got up bright and early to meet my parents for breakfast and we go to the airport to catch our flight to kigali. about 10 hours later, we were buying sim cards at the kigali airport. we then checked in to the radisson for the night, and it was feeling very surreal to be in africa. i remember feeling anxious.

jul 3, 19 ••• today started on a somber note. we went to the kigali genocide memorial. i cried a lot, especially at the exhibit with the photographs of only a fraction of the victims during that time.

then we drove at turtle speed to our next hotel, which was a loooong long way away. we arrived at the lake kivu serena hotel in time for a very late lunch. the cuisine here consists of rice, tortilla-like wraps and papadum-esque crispy rolls.

this fruit tastes disgusting... it looks like a tomato but isn’t sweet at all. i only remember spitting it out, trying another piece from another plate, and still hating it.

thankfully everyone wanted to relax and take it easy, so we ordered in for dinner and spent the rest of the night chilling.

jul 4, 19 ••• we drove out to see the border between rwanda and the democratic republic of congo. we were told to be very careful about taking photos of the police officers there, so we were. it felt strange to take photos of the border, i’m clearly very ignorant of the relations and history. it was a very busy juncture, with a sea of people crossing this way and that, lots of cars bumbling about and a lot of fruit, as i recall. hahah.

we then drove out to see a makeshift hot spring. we were asked if we wanted to take a dip, but none of us wanted to..... felt bad saying no, but really not worth it, sorry.

https://vimeo.com/568059672  (okay, i’m unable to embed more videos so links will have to do until i figure out something better...)

we took a boat ride along the lake, but there wasn’t that much to see around there, it was pretty dirty and murky... reminded me of the hong kong harbor, with trash floating around. it was also freezing, so i wasn’t having any fun at all.

we went to the gym and worked out a little bit because there was a lot of time to kill in between returning to hotel and our private pre-planned bbq dinner on the beach. we were lucky enough to enjoy traditional rwandan dancing which was absolutely gorgeous.

jul 5, 19 ••• we spent most of our morning in the car, having crossed the border to the republic of uganda. we stopped by a cute cafe along the way for lunch, but it was a grueling 4-5 hour car ride to mahogany springs, which was our hotel for the gorilla trekking. we managed to arrive around 715pm, by which time it was pretty dark and scary outside. the other car had broken down twice, once in the dark as well, so spirits were low and there was a lot of muttering and grumbling done under people’s breath. everyone was ravenous by the time dinner was served, but despite how late it was, it was absolutely delicious and i was happy! (also grateful for our car not having broken down)

jul 6, 19 ••• we woke up VERY early in anticipation of gorilla trekking. we waited around the hotel lobby after some coffee and biscuits for breakfast. it was an awful lot of waiting, but i didn’t sense anything wrong until i saw how pissed off our tour guide looked. it turns out our permits had gotten stolen! probably bribes.

here we were mucking around, still anticipating gorilla trekking.

we didn’t let it slow us down though. i actually am grateful for how things turned out because we wouldn’t have gotten to experience uganda like that without this turn of events. we joined a community tour that showed us how tea is harvested, how coffee is grown, harvested and round, as well as how bananas may be used to make juice, beer and gin! very cool

african tea leaves

jackfruit??

these are flowers from the coffee tree

the different stages of the coffee plant

this is henry, he owns this coffee plantation. here, henry shows us how to the use this contraption, the purpose of which is to grind coffee beans into powder

here henry is, sifting the coffee powder

here are my parents, having the time of their life (lol at my dad)

fresh bananas

these are the different stages of a banana’s life: from raw to ripe to fermenting. it can be made into juice and liquor.

we then visited a local school, where we were entertained by kids from kindergarten to 6th grade. we learned about their mission and goals to educate the younger generations by providing classrooms and a dining hall and even dorms for boarding. the singing and dancing was BRILLIANT. loved every single second of it. wish i’d joined in and not cared about what anyone thought.

we stopped by a women’s community center and saw a lot of cool crafts and art. that was on the way to the batwa pgymy tribe. we learned how they integrated with the batwa community. they showed us some dances they have dedicated to the gorillas, for which they are very grateful because it brings tourists in and therefore gives them an income. they showed us how to use a bow and arrow to hunt, and how they weave baskets and make handicrafts.

alan with the leader of the pgymy tribe

one of our guides spotted 2 chameleons, which was super impressive. he even brought the chameleon down close to us so that we could see it. i won’t ever understand how he was able to spot it in the wild, and from so far away as well.

we returned to the lodge and had lunch. the veggie stir fry was pretty dang good. it was served with posho, which is a maize bread, beans, and also matate (???) which reminded me a lot of plantain. back at the hotel, we chilled (without tv or wifi) until dinner. alan fell asleep, and i kept myself busy sorting out photos. dinner was early, and our night was early because we were promised gorilla trekking in the morning!

delicious!

jul 7, 19 ••• we were up and ready to leave by 7am. we were in the clear! we drove a little bit to the bwindi impenetrable national park for some entertainment (dancing and singing) from local students and a hilarious briefing on what to expect and do’s and don’ts of the trek. 

we then had separate meetings within our trekking groups. ours was quite big, with 10 tourists, because michael and our guides had spent HOURS the day before handling our stolen permits. an exception was made to accommodate us all, so our group consisted of the starke’s, alan, kerstin, a couple from oregon, and an english family. we had to get in another car and drive a bit to the mountain, where we met our porters and then began our trek!

the hike up was difficult, and at times i legit feared for my life because the mud/rocks were loose and one wrong step would have had us tumbling down the edge of the mountain... and that was me at age 28!! cannot imagine how my parents were feeling...

alan with meddie

as we made our way to the gorilla family, we encountered a solo young male who was soooo friendly, he cut across our group, like right down the middle, and he even reached out and touched my mom on her jacket! it was wild that a gorilla was that close to us, and then he left as quickly as he had joined.

this is the photo my mom managed to take when the young gorilla male was right next to her

we kept on hiking and found a large. our guide, meddie, told us that we were lucky to have found such a large family doing a whole bunch of different activities: we saw mothers nursing their babies, babies swinging from the trees and playing with one another, sub adult males beating their chests and other members of the family eating and feeding. we even got to watch as a silverback gorilla pulled a very healthy poop out of its butt, and we ran into him snacking again later on.

on the way down, it started raining a little bit. we all slipped at one point or another, but it was especially dangerous for my dad so we all had to slow down our pace a little bit to match his speed. thank god he had a porter there to help him out and save him. 

we returned to the same place as where we had started our morning for a debriefing, and we each received a certificate to show that we had been on this trek. we waited around a little bit for the other group to arrive, and were once again very grateful that our experience was much more pleasant. one lady in the other group had to leave the trek on a stretcher, and the others were caught in the rain on their way to the gorillas, so it must have been a cold and awful experience on their end. 

us after the successful completion of our gorilla trek!!

we headed to a local inn nearby where we had a late lunch and could change into dry clothes. we then drove a bumpy 4 hours to mweya safari lodge, located inside queen elizabeth national park. we made a couple of stops along the way (one of which was in the middle of nowhere so that people could go pee out in the open where animals are potentially roaming around?!?!?) and when we finally arrived, it was already 830/9ish pm.... we insisted to order room service because we were pooped, and we got showered and hit the hay.

this cute sign was outside the lodge!

this super old school cash register was at the lodge too

jul 8, 19 ••• today started off with a game drive, early in the morning! 

we drove around the gorgeous park and saw elephants, warthogs, antelope, eagles, all sorts of bird and butterflies, buffalo and weird-looking lemur or ferret creatures. we thought it was great, but some other members of the group were underwhelmed. 

this is the view from the car we sat in for the safari

this gorgeous tree houses sooo many bird’s nests! do you see them?

cute antelope we saw on the tour

after lunch at the hotel, we went on a boat tour around the kazinga channel. i think it was called lake edward? we saw many animals again, including crocodile, elephants, buffalo, all sorts of birds, and hippos.

favorite photo of my parents ¨̮

we followed a few elephant cuties along the bank. it drizzled for a little bit in between.

dinner was delicious. it was a great buffet, although i was severely grossed out by the ants that joined us on the dining table.

there were so many animals on the grounds of the lodge. don’t be fooled by how cute these guys look, we saw them fight over raw meat at some point! we also saw a warthog stroll around.

jul 9, 19 ••• we were up bright and early today for a quick breakfast before heading right on out. on the way to entebbe, we stopped by a local motel for lunch. the service was SUPER slow (maybe because we had such a huge group together!) but it was delicious and worth the wait! i ordered a coleslaw and avocado vinaigrette (this was THE HUGEST AVOCADO i’ve ever seen in my life?!?!?), a veggie biryani and some of paul’s aloo matar. we then filed back into our cars for several more hours of “african massage” to the next destination. had an early night, i think we ordered room service to the hotel room and tried to get our butts to bed as early as possible because it was another EARLY day the morning after.

we stopped at the equator in uganda to take some photos, of course!

i was sooo happy to be able to order room service! we felt like we were finally back to civilization... 🥺 we had wifi and tv and hot water... ugh it was amazing

jul 10, 19 ••• my alarm was set for 4am this morning.... 🥲😅 we left the hotel at 5am for the airport and obviously i was tired and grumpy and just in a crappy mood overall hahahah. our first flight was barely 45 minutes.... to mbarara i’m guessing?? i was assigned a middle seat on my own originally but no one was in the aisle seat so i moved over woohoo! our first layover was 2-3 hours, not too bad. we hung around at the lounge area. 

our second flight was to harare. alan and i managed to snag 2 joined seats towards the back end of the plane so that we could watch conan’s traevel shows on his ipad. there was a pretty scary drop when we were descending imto harare. i think we just stayed on the plane for about half an hour so some people could get on the plane and join.

we flew about 3 hours more to cape town, and we were EXCITED to arrive. it was a hell of a time checking in, and it was a nicer hotel in a nice area so we decided to just stay in and order room service again. we had a slow night and it was SOOOO needed. cape town felt a lot closer to the first world and we were enjoying and appreciating it to the max. we even started playing pokemon go and its harry potter-themed equivalent (oops forgot the name), but to be fair, we didn’t get cell phone service everywhere we went, so it would cut on and off.

jul 11, 19 ••• eek, cape town was COOOOLD! luckily i brought a jacket along, we really really needed to cover up and stay warm! got to sleep in a bit, we left by 830am to drive to the pebble beach by the water to take some gorgeous photos. we stopped by chapman’s peak for another photo op, then drove to boulders beach in simon’s town to see the penguins!! it was such a dream, loved every second of it.

i believe this was chapman’s peak??

what a model

this was at the pebble beach at the cape of good hope. 

saw a cute ostrich on the way somewhere

next we went to cape point. we took the funicular to the top, then hiked up to the lighthouse. we took pots of great pics but omg it was EVEN MORE freezing there. we had lunch at the two oceans restaurant. fancy and delicious! the calamari was bomb, the arancini was alright, but the main of chickpea and mushrooms was delish. after lunch we headed right on back to the hotel.

when i said it was cold, i wasn’t joking... it was FREEZING at the top. i had a horrible time because i don’t do that well in the cold

alan and i walked over to woolworths to get water and makeup remover and snacks. on the way back we stopped by PLANT for dinner. i was sooo excited to try out their vegan fast food, so i ordered a lot of the menu. we got the quinoa salad, mac and cheez, seitan lasagna, schawarma, pot stickers, siu mai, spag bolognese, tiramisu, milk tart and a bunch of other random vegan snacks. i was in HEAVEN. even though some of the stuff was cold by the time we got back to the hotel and ate, it still tasted DELICIOUS. i was soooo impressed.

this was the lasagna. omfg i need an encore of this restaurant one day!!! wish i knew how to cook like this

jul 12, 19 ••• today we went to a wine blending workshop at grande provence winery. the first step was to blend 3 different mixtures. after tasting them all, we decided the last blend was the winner, with 40% zinfandel, 10% shiraz and 50% cabernet. so then we blended up a big bottle of it, corked it, thew on a hand-signed label, and then walked around the beautiful indoor and outdoor art galleries.

this was our group!

wine blending is literally mixing different wines together in different proportions and figuring out which you like the taste of the best

there was a lot of cute art at the winery! i loved all the dogs and greyhounds around the property. these 3 dancing pigs came a close second

we drove a little way for lunch at another beautiful vineyard. i had a charcoal ciabatta, tomato quinoa salad, root veggie risotto and steamed veggies on the side. we skipped the wine tasting because our lunch overran a bit and our bus driver buford said that the traffic would be pretty heavy on a friday afternoon and it wouldn’t be worth it to be stuck on the bus. so we just walked around the cute little town we were at, franschhoek (??)

there was a lot of cute art and small local shops around this town! we strolled around and got some souvenirs ¨̮

love this

we had a dinner booked way ahead at fyn restaurant. it was stunningly delicious. i loved every single course and was thoroughly impressed.

UGHHHHH just soooo good.

jul 13, 19 ••• FINALLY we had a day to sleep in!!!! we let our group know the night before that we didn’t want to join the walking tour around the city. we woke up and made our way to the company’s garden, which was directly next to our hotel. we played harry potter wizards unite and ran into the tour group. my mom told me later on it was a good decision of ours not to join haha.

we walked to addis in cape for an authentic ethiopian meal experience. we washed our hands at the table, ate the whole meal with our hands, and finally i was able to taste injera. it was 100% teff injera and it did not disappoint. i ordered a vegan platter while alan got a combo. the amount of food was PERFECT for us, we finished every single thing. 

we ordered dessert but the hot berries never showed up and the ice cream was interestingly very gummy and very very sweet. the coffee was strong and served with a beautiful platter.

after that, we needed to walk our full tummies off. we headed to the waterfront, where there were many shops and stalls in indoor and outdoor malls. it was just a really good time walking around there and we saw soooo many things. there was bubble tea in south africa, a yogurt bar that made me sooo happy, dogs were up for adoption, and a bootleg jabbawockeez performance at the city square. we walked back to the hotel after that and got ready for bed.

jul 14, 19 ••• we woke up at 430am to head to the airport by 530am. we caught our first flight from cape town to johannesburg, then transferred to a direct flight back to hong kong. it was a TIRING trip but wow, the memories!! really want to go to back soon

[addierose444]

Back to Campus: Spring 2021

It has been 10 long months since I last stepped foot on the Smith College campus (or out of my home state for that matter). I am now officially back! Hooray! As I said in a recent post, I was prioritized for early arrival due to my job in ResLife as a Community Advisor. As I only just got here and am far from being settled in, this post is mostly just about the process. Hopefully this year I will actually post a room tour of sorts! (Last year, I literally only posted a photo of my emptied out room).  

Back in mid-December, I signed up for an arrival slot (2:00 on Friday the 22nd of January). I was so excited about returning to campus that I started packing quite a while ago. To make the packing process easier in the future, I created an extensive packing list. To read my college essentials guide, click here. On Friday, my dad drove me to Smith. Before returning to campus, we stopped by the house of some family friends to grab the rest of my dorm essentials. Since Massachusetts considers my state (Vermont) high-risk, I wasn’t allowed to move directly into my spring housing. At this point in time, Massachusetts and Hawaii are the only states with low-risk status. 

My house, Parsons, has been using Discord for our virtual house community. You can read about the other apps I use in (remote) college here. As I was the first one on campus, I decided to keep my residents updated on the check-in and quarantine process. This was not part of my job in ResLife, but it definitely felt relevant to that work. Even though I am a returning student and in ResLife, I didn’t fully know what to expect and figured others would appreciate a student’s perspective. I was already planning on writing this blog post but decided to just compile my updates here. For starters, I didn’t see the need for a total rewrite. I also thought it would be a fun and different post style. Lastly, I think there is value in knowing what people are thinking in the moment rather than just reflectively. Note that my updates are written to my Parsons residents and weren’t edited to reflect the audience of this blog. I did add some additional images to this blog post, but most were also sent via Discord.

Friday @ 1:19

Parsons in real life! 

Friday @ 4:07

Just a quick update. I have moved into my quarantine location and thought I would let you all know a little more about the check-in process from a student's perspective. All official information can be found in an email titled "IMPORTANT ARRIVAL INFORMATION". You basically just enter the CC, present your OneCard (unless you are a new student in which case you will receive yours), follow the arrows, and do what you are told. The whole process is quick and easy. The COVID test is painless (you can feel it though) as the swab doesn't need to go super deep into your nose like with other tests. While I strongly advise showing up at your scheduled time, if you are a little bit early, you may be able to check-in anyway. (I checked-in about 20 minutes early without an issue). The only hiccup I had was that I got the wrong room key (my correct room number but for Park House). As it's hard to hear people with masks on, be sure to check the envelope containing your room key and bracelet before leaving the ResLife table (to avoid going around the CC for a second time like I had to). I think check-in will only get better and even going around twice was still very quick and easy. If you have concerns and would like to talk to me about them, feel free to send me an email or direct message me here on Discord. As for moving things into Parsons, it was exhausting as no one was allowed to help me. When you arrive at Parsons, someone (possibly me) should be there to greet you (and make sure you don't stay over an hour). (Some of you may also meet me in the CC as I will be helping distribute keys). See you soon! 

Friday @ 5:02

As for the quarantine location, I am currently quarantined in the Ellery Inn. The other location is the Fairfield Inn & Suites. You can get to either location by way of a free shuttle. (Your ticket is the bracelet you receive at check-in). Students sit far apart with masks, but I personally felt more comfortable having my dad drop me off at the hotel. It is also worth noting that both hotels are within walking distance. The bracelet is also important so that staff in the house know you are allowed to be there. (If you have approved guests (low-risk state), I think they also get bracelets). I haven't learned the whole color-coding system, but my bracelet is red and lists my Parsons and Ellery rooms. My quarantine room is actually really nice. I have a comfortable king-sized bed and my own bathroom. When you arrive you get a bag with a few snacks, water, activities from OSE, and general information (including the wifi password). I will keep you posted on the food situation as dinner is yet to arrive. I will momentarily post the menu that was in my welcome bag. Hopefully, these updates are somewhat helpful or interesting. Let me know if you have specific questions.  

Friday at 5:15

Still waiting on dinner (to be delivered before 7), but here are the aforementioned snacks.

Friday @ 5:34

Dinner! Will let you know how it is soon, but my roommate from last year has said "The chicken is very tender!". Basically what happens is the people delivering the food knock loudly on the door, announce "dinner" and leave paper bags outside your room. Breakfast for tomorrow was also delivered.

Friday @ 6:18

I was initially quite worried about the food situation (during quarantine) as I am a picky eater and didn't get to choose the meal. (It's all based on the food preference form). The first dinner was much better than I feared. The chicken had flavor, was tender, and was fully cooked. The greens were also tasty. The potatoes could have used some ketchup but were pretty good when eaten with the chicken. I don't really like beets, so I just ate a few to try them. They didn't have much flavor but were well cooked. As for the cookies, they had good flavor but were very hard. Overall, I was unnecessarily worried about the food situation but am definitely excited to get out of quarantine to pick my own food among other things.

Friday @ 6:26

Tomorrow's breakfast! Looks pretty good other than the fact I hate bananas. I am most excited about the vanilla soy milk. I just don't get why we get plastic bottled water at each meal.

Saturday @ 11:51

Lunch for day two in quarantine has arrived. Another gripe that I have is that we get a new full set of plastic silverware at each meal. It's the compostable kind, but I don't think it's going to be composted. So far quarantine is boring, but not that bad. There is a TV in the room with cable and Roku. Make sure you pack your quarantine bag carefully as you cannot leave your room until you get an official release email from ResLife. The rooms (at least mine) have a mini-fridge, so if you have food or medications that require refrigeration, not to worry. We got an email today saying that we will be released on Monday at the latest. I initially had the impression we'd get out on Sunday and yesterday it sounded like we may get out today. I am obviously hoping to get out sooner rather than later, but I'll just have to wait and see.

Saturday @ 5:57

Dinner day two. Even though I have been busy with a French essay, I am definitely getting restless here in quarantine.

Saturday @ 6:38

Yesterday's dinner was better than today's, but this one wasn't too bad. The tortillas were dry, so the meal was better and less messy without them. My main critique is that while the beef had good flavor, it was tough. I also think yesterday's greens were a little bit better. Here's what I got for tomorrow's breakfast. I am hoping to be released from quarantine tomorrow, but it could be as late as Monday. Quarantine releases are at noon or 4 pm.

Sunday @ 9:15

I passed my initial COVID screening! (Still waiting on my official release email from ResLife). Just for a reference point, I took my test a little before 2 pm on Friday and got the results email at around 11 last night. (Basically, you get an email letting you know that the lab results are available and are given a registration code to set up your account).

Sunday @ 11:45

Well, I am still in quarantine, but at least lunch has arrived. Noon is fast approaching, so I might not be getting released until 4.

Sunday @ 12:33

I finally received the official release email from ResLife!!! I can leave as soon as 1 pm and must be moved out by 4 pm. Like with arrival, there are shuttles every half hour. Starting tonight I will be ordering my food through the Grubhub app and picking it up myself. I also have another COVID test scheduled for tomorrow.

Sunday @ 1:17

I am officially back at Parsons! (I decided to walk instead of taking the shuttle). Feel free to continue asking questions, but I think this is the end of my arrival updates. See you soon!

[crimsonblackrose]

One of the first things that I learned when I picked up all my passes at the Big Bus information office was that the Louvre required a reservation. The museum is always busy so making a reservation online is highly suggested. For general admission or special exhibits check here. Since I had a museum pass I picked a time slot and filled out the forms here. Because I was so tired rather than make my reservation at 9am like I had planned I made it for 9:30am. I didn’t have any difficulty getting the date or time I wanted, which is lucky. I also was in Paris during the off season. I was sent an e-mail with the information for my pass and then I screenshot it so that I could show it to the guards when I arrived. I highly suggest doing this just to make your life easier. You enter via the glass pyramid.

My plan for my second full day in Paris included cramming three museums into one day. So I had a goal of just seeing the highlights in the Louvre. Anything else I managed to see would be a bonus. The main goal was to, of course, find the Mona Lisa.  But first, because I’d gotten such a late start and then felt rushed to be at the Louvre exactly at 9:30 so I wouldn’t miss my spot I hadn’t eaten. So within the Louvre I popped into a cafe right before going through with my museum pass and quickly ate a brioches suisses which was absolutely delightful. Brioches suisses is a french bread (brioche) with chocolate chips and vanilla custard in the middle. There wasn’t any seating within the cafe but there was some seating outside of it under a pillar with tables every couple of feet. So I sat there to eat my breakfast before going through with my museum pass to enter the actual Louvre. I felt the same sort of rush that I felt when trying to get into Harry Potter at USJ the first time.

While some highlights are included on the map so you can easily make a goal of what to see, others are not. On my way to find the Mona Lisa I ran into a couple famous statues.

First was the Venus de Milo or Aphrodite from 100 BC which is located in the Sully wing on the ground floor in the Parthenon room (room 346).

Then in one of the stair cases on my way to the Mona Lisa I found the Winged Victory of Samothrace which is thought to be from 190 BC and is located in the Denon Wing on the ground floor in the staircase (room 703).

If you’re lost and looking for it just ask because the “gallery” it’s in is the Winged Victory of Samothrace stairwell. 

Mona Lisa is an Italian painting also known as Portrait of Lisa Gherardini, wife of Francesco del Giocondo by Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci was located in the Denon wing on the first floor in the Mona Lisa Room (room 711) Please note that sometimes it moves.

You don’t get much time with the Mona Lisa. It’s probably one of the most popular paintings in the Louvre, let alone maybe THE most popular part of the Louvre in general. To deal with crowds they’ve created a line with two entrances, you can either go up to the left or you can go up to the right and then security will give you a couple minutes to take a few photos before sending you on your way. While the rest of the Louvre is set up so you can sit and take in the paintings and sculptures due to the large amount of people who want to see Mona Lisa it is not possible. In the grand scheme of things when I visited it probably wasn’t that busy. The line didn’t spill out past at least half way through the winding ropes they’d made for the queue.

The Louvre actually doesn’t insure the Mona Lisa. And no one knows how much it’s worth. It’s one of the world’s most famous paintings and instead the Louvre puts it’s money towards protection for it. The Mona Lisa has been stolen, someone’s tried to graffiti it and someone else has tried to throw a rock at it. Security seems to be a better idea then insuring it anyway.

Because I was in the area, an area of vast paintings I decided to stop and taken in July 28. Liberty Leading the People a painting I remember seeing often in my high school French classes.  the painting is by Eugène Delacroix and is located in the department of paintings near Mona Lisa. No matter how many times I saw it in my French book or online I never realized just how massive of a painting it was.

After checking out a couple other giant paintings in the area I stopped at the in-Louvre cafe for a special Louvre tea called thé du Louvre Côté Cour: Courtyard tea. The little pouch the tea came in was quite pretty and the area around The Café Mollien was beautiful.

If you’re there I highly suggest trying to get a window seat. They’re the most popular and even though the cafe wasn’t busy all of those seats were taken when I visited. They have a stunning view and during the summer the terrace is open so you can enjoy your drink or snacks outside while enjoying the view of Cour Napoléon and the garden.

After a nice tea break I went off in search of more art. My main goals were to see The Coronation of Napoleon , Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss, and The Lamassu. 

The Coronation of Napoleon, also known as The Coronation of the Emperor Napoleon I and the Crowning of the Empress Joséphine in Notre-Dame Cathedral on December 2, 1804 was quite easy to find. It was painted by Jacques-Louis David and is located in the Denon Wing on the first floor in Daru, room 702.

The painting was mentioned on the tour of Versailles, about how the painting was requested done by Napoleon with some subtle changes. Some things including his mother who refused to attend being painted in the background. It shows Napoleon crowning his wife as Empress after being crowned himself.

The Lamassu was also quite easy to find though a bit further away. They’re located in the Richelieu wing on the ground floor in the Mesopotamia, Assyria Khorsabad section in room 229.

The Lamassu  are protective genies that guard entrances in Dur Sharrukin which is now in modern day Khorsabad, northern Iraq. These creatures are part man, part bird and part bull and known as shedu or lamassu.

Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss  however I had an awful time trying to find. The reason why is because the museum is broken up into three main wings. The Richelieu, Sully, and Denon. I had gone down to the ground floor on the Richelieu side and thought I was crossing through Sully and into Denon, but in reality what I was doing was walking in circles around a statue courtyard in the 200’s rooms of the Richelieu. It took me awhile to figure it out. Too long. Embarrassingly too long. I didn’t realize the grey space in the center of Richelieu map was a courtyard. I thought it was the main one with the pyramid. And I couldn’t figure out how to cross over. It was very frustrating. I’ve circled on the map of the ground floor below the area in which I kept walking in circles.

Eventually I asked security for directions and they told me I had to leave and re-enter. Apparently you can do that, at least twice. So I popped out, went back into the main lobby, scanned for the Denon wing and went back in.

I think in other areas and on other floors it’s easy to travel between the three wings, but for some reason when I got down to the ground floor I had an awful time of it. But I did eventually find Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss which is located in the Denon wing on the ground floor in the Michelangelo gallery in room 403.

I saw a lot of other really cool things as I rushed around. I’ll make sure to list the wing, level, and room number for each of them if you click on the image or below it.

Daphnis et Chloé by François Gérard Denon Wing 1st floor Mollien room 700

I think the Louvre is massive. The way you’re suppose to enjoy art is to sit with it and take it in, but I think because of the Louvre if there’s a lot you want to see in a short period of time it makes it difficult. I think because I was also trying to run around on my Museum pass before it expired I felt extra pressure to rush, which isn’t the way you’re suppose to enjoy a museum let alone art. If you have more time I think it’ll be better.

My favorite part of the museum was really seeing other people enjoying it. The amount of artists I saw camped out in the Louvre sketching the sculptures just instilled something warm and fuzzy in me. I wanted to grab a notebook and join them, like I did in my high school art trips. But I just felt like there was no time.

Crown of Louis XV: Denon wing, 1st floor Galerie d’Apollon Room 705

The Louvre is open from Wednesday through Monday. They are closed on Tuesdays, January 1st, May 1st and December 25th. On Mondays, Thursdays, Saturdays and Sundays they are open from 9am until 6pm. On Wednesdays and Fridays they are open from 9am until 9:45pm. Double check online that they are open and their hours before you go. When I went the strikes were happening so they warned that some rooms/galleries might be closed and that the museum might close early. It’s considered fastest to book your tickets online ahead of time and to arrive in the morning.

Hercules, Dejanira and the Centaur Nessus Richelieu wing 1st floor Rotonde Jean Boulogne Room 526

Grand sphinx Sully wing Lower ground floor Crypt of the Sphinx Room 338

The Athena of Velletri

Attached to the Louvre is also a mall like area called Carrousel du Louvre. There’s a food court here with a McDonalds and various other restaurants as well as shopping. I grabbed a late lunch here, debating between different things because all I needed/wanted to do was find a corner to sit in and charge my wifi buddy because it had died suddenly. (The fuse at my hotel had blown for all my outlets so nothing had charged, I didn’t realize it until that night) I wandered around the food court trying to decide what I should get. I felt like I had to get French food, even though there were other options and it had a long line. The McDonalds had more available seating and less of a wait and while McDonalds tends to be better in any country outside of the U.S. it felt like a bad choice for my limited amount of time in France. I hadn’t even scratched the surface of my dream food list.

quiche lorraine set 13.60 euro

So I got in line, looked at what they had and ordered a quiche lorraine. It came with a salad that I didn’t particularly want but couldn’t turn down because it was a set. It only came with one type of dressing, an oil and balsamic dressing that needed to be shaken up. They took it off the bar and popped my quiche back into an oven to reheat. During my trip I had two quiche lorraines, both had to be reheated and came inexplicably with a side salad with the same oil and balsamic dressing. This was the better of the two.

The Carrousel du Louvre is open Wednesday through Monday from 10am until 8pm. On Tuesdays they are open from 11am until 7pm.

“Artemis with a Doe” Sully wing Ground floor Salle des Caryatides Room 348

Hercules Wrestling Achelous Room 105, Richelieu wing

galerie d’apollon

    The Louvre One of the first things that I learned when I picked up all my passes at the Big Bus information office was that the Louvre required a reservation.

[ft-stories-lgbt]

StingSu Modern AU - Spy

Natsu frowns as he cocks his gun up. The door in front of him is slightly open and he can hear someone whimpering.

He takes a look around him, but his eyes are only met with an empty corridor on both sides. He can still hear the music from the party going on downstair. That’s good news, at least.

"I think someone is in the hotel room." he whispers into the microchip.

"Isn't that the point Pinkie?" Comes Gray's voice.

"Yes, but I'm pretty sure the door is supposed to be closed before I break in, and no one is supposed to whine yet." Natsu retorts, harshly.

He can hear a sigh from the other line. There's a moment of silence and Natsu is sure that Gray is probably trying to figure out the real gravity of the situation.

"Alright, I can't hack the wifi of the hotel, I don't have access to the guy's computer or his phone…” Gray’s voice drops to a less focused murmur. “I can't even manipulate the security camera in front of his door, I'll need some backup, it’s gonna take me a bit longer than expected. Whoever this is, they know what they’re doing, you can't go in there blind, it’s too dangerous." Gray says quickly, voice tight with concentration.

"Are you kidding me?” Natsu hisses. “I've been hunting this guy for centuries! I know he’s alive, I know he’s somewhere here, you’ve got another thing coming if you think I’m gonna drop this opportunity. I don’t care, I’m ending this tonight."

"Natsu! No! Are you crazy? He could have a gang’s worth of people there, just fall back!"

"Fuck that, what if I don't get another chance like this? It’s now or never, Ice Queen. Just trust me!"

Gray lets out a frustrated sound and Natsu can't help but smile, knowing perfectly that his childhood friend knows he can’t win this.

"Fine! But I swear if anything goes wrong, I'm going to kill you myself! Got it Flamebrain?"

"Yes, Princess." Natsu chuckles. He advances.

The agent checks one last time around him before slowly pushing the door open. It's dark inside, and even if he can't really see anything, he moves quietly. He can hear someone struggling and some stifled sounds. He has no doubt about the identity of this person but right now it's not the most important thing, so he concentrate on the sounds around him.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. Since he left the door open, the music from the party can be heard. There's the soft sound of the air conditioner. He can also occasionally hear a car or two pass from the road next to the hotel.

Everything seems normal, but Natsu has worked for the Fairy Tail Agency for nearly fifteen years now, and if he learned anything in his time there, it’s to always be on guard when everything is too silent. So he keeps his gun loaded, and makes every advance with precision and intent.

Now that his eyes are adjusted to the dark he can see the man he was searching for sitting on a chair, struggling against his restraints. There are a few things scattered on the ground, evidence of a conflict.

Natsu is about to approach and interrogate the man, he and Gray both needed as much information on this place and business as he could find. But that train of thought is brought to a grinding halt as bright, blinding lights suddenly fill the space, causing Natsu to squint against the burning in his eyes.

Now, he can hear the soft laugh and tension rolls over him in waves. He knows that voice.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me!"

Suddenly Gray’s voice is in his ears, but all he can focus on is the flash of blond as he slowly turns around.

"Natsu! What a surprise to see you here!" The blond beams, voice far too cheery.

"Sting." Natsu breathes, before letting out a groan. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He watches as the smile on the blond’s face turns into something devilish as he comes approaches. Natsu raises his gun, pointing it at him, eyes glaring daggers.

"What a silly question! To steal your case, of course! Like I've been doing for what... A few weeks now? You're getting old and predictable, my dear. You have no idea how easy it was to find you and this man!"

Natsu barely registers Gray telling to get out of here. He doesn't even pay attention to the man behind him still struggling stronger and harder as the seconds pass.

All his being is concentrate on these blue eyes, heavenly blond hair and soft features. Sting looks like an angel, but only a fool would fall for that face. Natsu perfectly knows what lays behind this perfect mask.

"I thought I told you to back off my cases. Your agency might have an alliance with mine but that doesn't mean I won’t kill you if you keep doing this kind of shit."

"Don’t be this rude! Honestly, I'm doing you a favor by taking them! They are so boring!"

Sting is now staying just in front of him. He doesn't seem disturb by the gun between them, pointing at his heart. He looks completely collected as a soft smile is now taking upon his lips.

"But.. I'll admit I've been a little harsh lately by taking all the credits for me for all the close cases when really all I did was stealing your info… so to make amend this one will be all yours. Does it make it even? "

Natsu's jaw clenches while he lowers his gun and closes the gap between their bodies. Their faces are inches from each other and Natsu can clearly smell the soft scent of mint coming from the other man.

They meet each other’s eyes. Olive meeting sapphire. There's no other words exchanged but Natsu doesn't need them to speak. Not when their gaze are saying everything. Like the tender light in the blond man eyes, he looks at him as if somehow he is the most precious thing on earth when his face in generally closed off. Natsu can hear the slight change in Sting's breath as their faces move a little closer until finally... finally their lips are meeting for a brief but delicate kiss. There's a hand on his cheek now, caressing the skin smoothly.

"See you later... Husband."

And Natsu can't help but smile while the blond man take his leaves. It's been nearly five years since they met and started this mismatched relationship. They loved each other more than anything in the world, even if they never miss a chance to mess with the other, like Sting has been doing these past few weeks, Natsu can't have dream of a better partner.

"Wait a fucking second. Husband?! Is that the guy you married and told no one about?!” Gray’s voice shrieks. “You fucking asshole how dare you keep this from me! I thought I was your partner! Just you wait until you get back here I'm-"

Natsu rolls his eyes as he kills the line between him and his friend. Really, there are things more important to talk about than his relationship. Especially with another Secret Agent, for example the man behind him, that he still has to bring to the Agency.

*

Thank you to @grayserigala for the beta job and all the precious time you put in this! You're a sweetheart!

[festfashions]

Sunglasses from Quay, pants from Forever 21, and top from Hollister.

Desert X

Two years ago around the time of Coachella I started to see all over Instagram these photos taken in the desert with art sculptures. The one that was most Insta-famous was what looked like a mirrored building. After some quick Google research I found out that it was one piece of many for a pop up art exhibit called Desert X.

By the time I was headed to Coachella, I made a plan to visit some of the art pieces. They were super cool and all free (as the event is produced by a not-for-profit organization).

This year, somewhere, probably in one of many emails I get, I saw that Desert X was coming back! So I planned a trip solely to visit the art. 

I know this isn’t about a festival or rave, but it’s still something cool, and a lot of the festivals/raves I go to have an awesome collection of art. Plus, I know sometimes there’s down time for people who attend Coachella and stay outside the festival, so it’s an awesome opportunity to visit some of it!

The basics: Desert X is produced by Desert Biennial, a not-for-profit 501(C)(3) charitable organization founded in 2015 to bring international artists to the Coachella Valley to create art, engage viewers and focus attention on the valley’s environment.

From their site “[Desert X’s] natural wonders as well as socio-political-economic issues that make it vibrant, curious and exciting.” And it definitely is.

It takes place Feb 9 - April 21, 2019 all along Coachella Valley, CA. The art pieces are spread out, and some require some walking or hiking to from where you can park your car.

You can download the app to find the locations, but for me, it was much more fun to get a good old paper map to make a full adventure of the trip. There are hubs where you can pick this up, and we got ours at the Ace Hotel. Once you have the map you’ll see the pieces are spread out all over the Coachella Valley. Driving from top to bottom takes just over an hour, and then stopping in between... we decided to split the map in half, and do the top half this trip in two days. 

The bottom half is closer to where Coachella is actually hosted, and since I’ll probably be there to take photos, I figured this was a good way to split the trip up so it wasn’t overwhelming. 

So I'll share with you what the pieces were like that we visited on this trip, and which were my favorites. I’m looking forward to seeing more though later, I think this is such a unique experience.

First up was Dive-In by Superflex. This one was really easy to get to, right at the start of a hiking trail and very easy to see from the road. One thing that is unique about this art experience is that the locations aren’t always an address, so you use the coordinates provided, plug them into your phone and follow the map then to exactly where the art piece is. Half the fun is finding them, I think.

I loved this piece a lot, and I loved the story it had to tell. If you go to the Desert X site, and click on artists you can see write ups of each piece and what it means. I opened the link once we found each piece because they spoil what it looks like at the top of the page, and it was much more meaningful to read when looking at the piece. I’d suggest doing the same.

This was definitely an Insta-worthy stop too, the bright pink colors contrasting the blue sky. I learned a lot about Coachella Valley visiting this one, like how it all used to be underwater tens of thousands of years ago, and how it probably will be again someday. That’s why this piece, was reminiscent of coral, and would work as a great habitat of sea creatures in the future.

It Exists in Many Forms by Postcommodity was located in a famous mid-century home in Palm Springs. The write up for this one was more interesting than the art piece-- I just really didn’t get it. The house was under construction and there was some audio stuff playing in it but I couldn’t discern what was going on ... we left this one pretty quickly. 

Also this one required tickets, but we were able to get in anyway, but try to get your tickets online before just in case, they’re free, you just have to register.

After this, well, let’s be glad it was a gorgeous day cuz I sent us on a 30-ish minute detour plugging in the wrong coordinates lol. Pro tip copy the coordinates before you hit search in case you need to double check them or type them in again, cuz it takes a while to type them into maps. 

Eventually though we made our way back down a mountain from my detour to the next piece that we actually passed on the way to the detour... yea I know I know whatever...

We found Lover’s Rainbow by Pia Camil. This was also a very Insta-worth piece, and is really cool because it has an identical rainbow located in Baja, Mexico. It has the message of re-inserting rain and fertility into desert territory. I loved how when we arrived there, the shadow from it at one end made the illusion of a heart with the art piece. Call me a romantic. 

From here we went on a treasure hunt to find the next location, hidden in a strip mall. Wormhole by Cynthia Marcela uses empty storefronts in Coachella Valley as well as one in Tijuana, Mexico. That means there’s a total of 6 pieces scattered around to find. 

You really have to look for it, but once you find the correct storefront, you look inside and there’s a TV, streaming the front of one of the other locations, creating a wormhole, ‘a shortcut through space and time’. 

I kept hoping someone would visit the location I was seeing so I could see them on the TV, and I found it really neat to think that someone somewhere else might be seeing me checking out this location. For me, seeing one of these was enough, so you can pick one that’s near where other art is to make it less driving all around.

We opted for one more this day, and it was Peace is the Only Shelter by Mary Kelly. This was another one that was listed as having 3 locations, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. All 3 were relatively close together, but I did have a hard time finding them until I found one -- because then I knew what to look for. The piece is a re-skinned bus stop. 

The piece repurposes Cold War-era peace activism, calling attention to the anti-nuclear Women's Strike for Peace formed in 1961. You visit the bus stop and read about their stance as well as another anti-war movement from the 2000s. Underwhelming by sight, I thought the piece was much more interesting once I read about it online and visited inside to read the posters.

Day 2

We were up to start our art hunt. 

First up was Revolutions by Nancy Baker Cahill... And I made a huge mistake of not downloading the app they said to before getting there, so we didn’t get to experience it. The app is HUGE which is why they suggest downloading it before cuz you’ll need wifi. My phone was like uh... no. Literally, it gave me a pop up saying to connect to wifi and wouldn’t download. It’s a VR experience so you need the app.

This one though is located off the freeway which is the route many of us take into Coachella, so I’ll plan to visit it easily another time. 

From there we kept driving to Jackrabbit, Cottontail & Spirits of the Desert by Cara Romero. This was another of my favorites. You almost miss it if you’re not sure what you’re looking for, but it’s a series of billboard with photographs on them. They show ‘four special time-traveling visitors from Chemehuevi who have come to the ancestral lands of their sister tribes in the Coachella Valley’. 

The billboards go by fast, and only face one way, so I didn’t capture any photos so that I could just experience them. I really liked learning about and taking a peek at these ancestral visitors. 

Western Flag by John Gerrard is located right next to the Palm Springs visitors Center, and another one that is easily visitable on your drive into Palm Springs. It’s a giant box with one side hosting a screen simulation of the site of the world’s first major oil find in Spindletop, TX in 1901. The piece shows what looks like a flag pole with and endless stream of black smoke as the flag. The visual runs in parallel with the real site in Texas, with the sun rising in the video at the appropriate times and the days getting longer and shorter according to the seasons.

While all the pieces are making a statement, I’d say this one made me feel the most ‘awkward’ in the way that art can when it makes you think about things.

Our next stop took us up to Desert Hot Springs where two pieces are located. They’re relatively close to each other and -whoops- once again I got some coordinates wrong that tried to take us down a closed up road. We had to search cross streets as an alt way to the art because the coordinates weren’t going to take us a legal way...

Ghost Palm by Kathleen Ryan was a hard one to find as it was built with clear materials. Once we walked closer and closer to it we could see it better, and unfortunately with I think a lot of wind and rain some of it has fallen apart, but it was still clearly a meticulously recreated palm tree, matching those found around California. 

This was probably one of the furthest we had to walk to from where we parked our car, but still was not very far. 

We then found ourselves in a neighborhood for the next one which had a part 1 and part 2. Going Nowhere Pavilion #01 by Julian Hoeber was a cool structure winding within itself. This piece and its sister piece were commentaries on psychology and the human mind. This piece was about how ‘what is inside and outside the self can quickly become indiscernible’.

The sister piece was located in the small pool of the abandoned house next door. A pink painted pool had the sculpture of a man’s head in center of the floor of the pool. Both pieces were interesting to check out, but a little to over my head. I did like how they were tucked into a neighborhood, how cool would it be for all neighborhoods to have such interesting pieces on vacant lots?

The last piece we checked out was SPECTER by Sterling Ruby. An eye popping piece with a vibrant construction orange color it looks beautiful against the desert tones. The sun was hitting it in amazing ways as well, creating a reflection on the sand, and unique colors on each side even though they were all the same. 

I felt like I could sit and stare at this piece all day and watch how it changed with the environment around it. What would it look like at sunset? In the night would it glow?

I’d like to visit this one again if I can when I go back to Coachella at another time of the day.

So there it is, part one of my Desert X adventure. I’m excited to explore the other pieces, and I’m really glad I dedicated some time to drive around and find them. It’s a fun adventure and something out of the ordinary from our digital based lives. 

Not every piece will connect with you, and some that didn’t connect with me may connect with you, so I’d urge you to explore each piece on your own vs taking my opinions. Art is subjective, make the experience yours.

[simplelinesunfashiond]

Highway to Hellsite

Because @abalonetea low-key encouraged me to finish an AU scene despite not knowing what it was, and @idreamonpaper and @drabbleitout actually encouraged this weirdness at one point, and I have no willpower when it comes to both spoiling and embarassing the hell out of Jackson Alistair Lewis. A short non-magical AU about blogging and your obvious crush on a celebrity going viral.

Jackson Alistair woke to the sound of his phone obsessively buzzing in his ear. He moved, stretched, felt something pop in his back and slowly lowered himself back onto the pillow, blinking at the ceiling for far longer than he supposed he really needed to. He had some things to consider, though nothing so much to worry about, he thought. He had survived the gala, uploaded a decent number of shots, and, overall, not completely flopped at his first press event. Good. It all faded out, a little, in comparison to the real reason he was even invited. Being the administrator of the first known DawnShadow fan page wasn’t much for a marketing resume, but damn if it wasn’t good for getting in close with DawnShadow’s marketing team when the band reformed and started catching on. So, maybe his interests hadn’t been one hundred percent professional.

The event certainly had been, at any rate. A fundraiser, a big deal. He hadn’t actually known much about the organization up front, just that it was run by the founder of a network of medical facilities. He knew who that man was, though. And he knew who that man’s second-in-command on his medical staff was. And if there was one thing that was bound to get Nathaniel Ettonridge out into the world, it was his crazy-genious daughter. Even if the band hadn’t been contracted to perform at the more public part of the event (which, thank whatever powers, they had), Nat would be sure to make an appearance. And what an appearance it had been, though the tailored coat was nothing compared to the guitar god on his arm. There had always been rumors, but this was…Well, whatever it was, it felt important. Maybe just because he'd spent so long looking at ancient pictures and wondering, but...maybe not that, really.

The phone buzzed again, and he finally bothered to look at it. A lot of new notifications, more honestly than he’d expected – in fact, suspiciously many. And a few messages from Sydney, who hadn’t dragged herself clear across the country just to watch him snap pictures at an event she wasn’t actually invited to. Understandable. The messages were about what he expected. How was the event, was it exciting meeting everyone, how did he end up getting on stage? And then, a little bit of a different one.

“Did you bring anyone back with you? ;)”

Of course not, and what sort of strange question was that? He asked her as much.

“I’m just teasing. But we’ve talked about this. You can tell me anything. I did figure it was probably a joke, though…” A joke? What was a joke? After a minute of him not answering, another alert snapped him back. “…” And then another. “You haven’t seen it yet?”

He flipped on instinct back to the notifications. A lot of new traffic, likes, reblogs, retweets, notes from all over the series of pages he’d been maintaining across their different platforms. And then, before all that, the ominous truth of the matter.

“Kim ‘at’ed me in something?” he asked, out loud, and then paused to consider the odd sensation of trying to say “@” out loud. What was more, it was a post from another blog, someone he had met the night before. He paused, thought about it before he even attempted to open it, and couldn’t recall anything that had occurred between him and Sarra being interesting enough to go viral. Finally, he went to her account, and stared for a long moment at the odd gradients that served as placeholders for what must have been a completely unreasonable amount of pictures. He glanced over his shoulder to his laptop, and wondered if it was worth another attempt to connect to the hotel’s terrible wifi. Finally, after far too long, the images began to materialize. He scrolled around a little, not looking, just moving the screen up and down, and wondered in an aggravatingly sincere confusion how someone else’s hellsite post had managed to send that much attention to him not just on said hellsite, but across the board.

He scrolled back to the top.

It had only one line of explanation. “The most interesting thing that happened all night.” And the first picture under that wasn’t one she had taken. It was a screenshot of one of his. And so were a few of the ones after that. And there were a few of her pictures, of him, usually of him taking pictures, of…Well, until he saw them all in one place, he hadn’t realized just how many pictures he had taken of the same person. The first large swath of reblogs were all Sarra, adding more pictures to the string.

People, at first. It was just a very striking image, one he couldn’t possibly pass up. The fact that Dr. Orion Lourandera’s other main celebrity contacts were royalty in the fashion industry, and his own siblings, was too good to be true. At first glance, the twins were almost indistinguishable from each other. Jackson wasn’t totally sure if the garments they were wearing would be considered gowns or coats, but the long gauzy material, all blue and green and teal with glints of gold, trailed to the floor like peacocks’ feathers. The sister was the one with her hair swept up and pinned, the one who never took her sunglasses off. The other, with short hair swept back and impractically high heels, was the brother. At some point, his outermost layer – apparently some sort of jacket – was discarded, to reveal that the rest of whatever sort of couture clothing item that was, was open down most of the back. Intricate scrolling tattoos of very small text ran from the base of his neck down his spine to the small of his back, and Jackson remembered wondering just how close one would have to get to actually be able to read it. He did not, on the other hand, remember just how many pictures he'd tried to get of it. Or how long he'd actually stared while wondering, though that was apparently long enough for Sarra to notice and snap a few pictures of Jackson frozen like a statue with his camera half forgotten as the rest of the guests moved around him. It was a decently long exposure, if the motion blurs on everyone else were anything to judge by.

He finally managed to scroll past the vast swath of his pictures of Anderson Lourandera, with its handful of pictures of himself, before the next section started. This one was all pictures of Jackson, posted by an instagram account he'd never heard of before. Something private maybe? The first one had managed to clearly catch the moment the doorman had IDed him, and how much taller everyone else around him was, and was simply captioned, “Whose baby is this??? Why is he here alone???” with a teary-eyed emoji and a random selection of hearts. The one after was Jackson, as well as a few other camera-wielders, and based on the small lock of blonde hair in the corner of the image, this was a picture that Anderson had discreetly taken over his own shoulder while leaning dramatically on the bar. “These media boys think I'm posing for them. They must never learn the truth. #too drunk for these heels #i will literally fall over #no srsly #someone #stop ogling and help me #dammit."

The captions weren't all exactly coherent, but there were…Well, there were a lot of pictures of Jackson. Including a very zoomed in one of him showing his ID to the bartender. His info had, thankfully, been blurred out, but based on the small excited-looking key smash, whatever had been seen was exciting. Oh, Jackson realized, thinking back to the first picture, the fact that this man had thought he was a child, my age I guess.

And then, there was one of him talking to Sarra, who was pointedly side-eyeing the camera. “Askfbsi I've been caught,” and then a very distraught little emoji.

Then, there were the concert shots. A couple of Jackson in the crowd, looking particularly giddy, and captions pointing it out. Then, a few posts with no pictures, just black, with very over-excited and unspecific captions. And finally, the part where he ended up on stage, himself.

Jackson still remembered the feeling of awe, like a coronation, when the strap of the PRS was lowered over his head, the feeling of the strings under his finger, the mother-of-pearl inlays glinting under the stage lights. Nix, with the same ancient red Fender, cluing him in on the set, testing his knowledge on a couple things. No problem. That's why Jackson was here – he was the guy who knew it all.

It was only screenshots but it was clearly a series of videos. When he got to tear into his favorite solo. The moment of shock he'd hoped nobody had noticed when Nathaniel hit that note in Firebird. Nathaniel daring Jackson to do the vocals for Twilight Angel. People cheered, good-natured but egging him on, until he agreed. Sarra had interjected in the next post to add the link to the full video, with a struck-through comment of “no but for real he was amazing go watch it.”

And, in glorious conclusion, a picture Sarra had taken herself, a panoramic view of the scene, of the over-dramatic rapturous look, head tossed back, laughing out loud, of Jackson killing the last solo in the outro of Visions of Midnight on one edge of the image, and, on the other side, Anderson Lourandera, gaze locked on the stage, skin tinted with a faint alcohol-induced blush. One shining with energy, and with the aid of stagelights, the other a vibrant beacon standing out of a sea of dark suits and satin and velvet winter dresses. It was, Jackson concluded, a very odd scene, and it suggested that people had shown up with the image of a more political event in their minds. That seemed like it should have been important, but he couldn't place why. Couldn't quite care. Found himself forgetting, failing to notice, a little more every time he looked back at the picture. He did manage to notice that the artistry of it put every one of his shots to shame.

A few other comments came up under that, a lot of people gushing about various aspects, and a few repeating the demand to know who this kid was. And then, the conclusion, which had been reblogged back to Sarra's page as well. A screenshot of a select few of the posts from Jackson's “house of light" tag, which had existed long before the gala but which now included a couple of last night's pictures, and a screenshot of part of the House of Light's official blog, including a couple of shots of Jackson walking out in a long-hemmed vintage velvet coat that, now that he thought about it, was actually from HoL. The tags underneath included the phrase “#if you see this #call us.” And that was where the “@” appeared. Kim's commentary read, “Admins for @visionsofdawnshadow and @houseoflight-courtofshadow need to quit being horny on main.”

Jackson stared at it for a long moment, then took a screenshot of the whole thing and, after another minute if hesitation, sent it to Sydney.

“Is this what you meant?” he asked.

“Don't freak out,” Sydney answered. “Besides, like I said, I was already pretty sure nothing happened…”

“Why?”

“Well, I know who you are so…I called? The west coast shop. Mostly talked to Eva. (Cuuute accents, by the way).”

Jackson's brain failed to formulate more than “…,” so that was what he sent her.

“It's no secret they work a lot with the band, so he's heading back east with them.”

…

“Aaand it wouldn't hurt to have an assistant/photographer/model/killer musician on board for that kind of project?”

. . .

“…We sort of figured…you might want the job. She thought maybe you could meet with them before you leave? If you don't want to I can totally call her back!”

Jackson switched back to the page of Sarra and Kim's pictures, stared at that panorama for a minute. Saved it. Looked again. Reblogged it to his own page, added a relevantly embarrassed-looking gif. Wrote back to Sydney, “Just tell me where to go.” Then, a second later, “Also, I love you.”

[svt-writers-club]

Game 2... 21, 29, 43 and 49 for Soonkwan and Seokhoon :D

how am i just realising i haven’t answered any ask games for my angel secret love lee seokmin i have sinned

(this is a brilliant time to add that seokhoon is also another guilty pleasure ship of mine)

SoonKwan

21. What happens when they get lost on a trip?

Soonyoung convinces Seungkwan to break away from the others while they’re at Echo Park Lake. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

They get lost, is what happens. Seungkwan’s English, while more impressive than Soonyoung’s, isn’t quite up to par with getting them back to the meeting point. Their phones are both dead, but even if they weren’t, neither of them have the wifi modem that lets them call out. They’re stranded in a foreign park, with no way to contact the others and no clue of how to get back to the others.

“Hyung, we’re lost,” Seungkwan huffs. It’s hot, he’s tired and he’s ready for some air-conditioning. He doesn’t want to keep walking in this damn park where he can’t speak the language and where people look at them strangely for holding hands.

Soonyoung squints down at the map of the park, held upside down because he’s shit at geography. “Um… yeah,” he concedes with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, baby. This is my fault.”

Seungkwan can’t really stay mad when his boyfriend is so willing to take the blame. His shoulders relax and he leans into Soonyoung’s side, even though it’s too hot to be touching.

“It’s okay, we’ll find them eventually,” Seungkwan sighs, sneaking a kiss to Soonyoung’s cheek when no one is watching. He grins a little at the colour on the elder’s cheeks; it’s definitely not from the heat.

At the end of the day, they get to ride the paddle boat and take way too many couple selcas. It even feels like a date, although they’re not as affectionate as they are back home. Still, Soonyoung falls a little in love with the way the California sunlight catches in Seungkwan’s blonde hair and that’s worth getting yelled at by Seungcheol for disappearing on them.

29. What does each of them do to cheer the other up?

Seungkwan gets down really easily. He’s a self conscious boy and he’s a little self-destructive, so he’ll look through message boards and comments even though he knows he shouldn’t. Soonyoung usually finds the younger curled up in bed, scrolling through mean comments about his cheeks, or his stomach, or his obnoxious voice or the way he tries too hard.

All he needs to do is pull the phone away and put it on the bedside table, ebfore curling around Seungkwan. Seungkwan – noisy, boisterous, energetic Seungkwan – looks so small like this, when he’s reduced to nothing but himself and his insecurities.

“Hey,” Soonyoung whispers, kissing Seungkwan’s ear gently. “What’ve you been doing?”

“Nothing,” Seungkwan croaks. Even if Soonyoung hadn’t seen his face, he knows the vocalist has been crying to himself. “It’s nothing.”

Soonyoung takes a deep breath, pulling Seungkwan closer. “Okay.” He lets Seungkwan pretend for a little bit. To Soonyoung, it is nothing, but Seungkwan has a fragile heart beneath his thick skin.

So he’ll build Seungkwan’s flailing confidence back up – slowly, but steadily. He whispers in Seungkwan’s ear about how beautiful his laugh is, how the sight of his smile makes Soonyoung’s heart flutter in his chest like he’s seventeen again, how Seungkwan is the only reason the other members don’t fall into despair. He tells Seungkwan of the way he’s the reason Soonyoung wakes up, and how glad it is that at the end of the day, it’s Seungkwan he’s in love with.

The tears that Seungkwan sheds after that is a balm on Soonyoung’s heart. At least this time, he knows they’re happy tears.

Soonyoung is usually a bubbly guy. He doesn’t let himself get upset and tries to power through no matter the difficulty. That just makes the moments he falls even worse.

Seungkwan always finds the performance team leader in the dance studio. The music will be blaring in the background, but Soonyoung will be laying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling with blank eyes. Sweat makes his hair stick up funny and he stinks to all hell, but Seungkwan will lay down next to Soonyoung and curl into his side.

“Bad day?” Seungkwan asks quietly, running his fingers through Soonyoung’s hair. Soonyoung grunts, pressing a lacklustre kiss to Seungkwan’s temple.

“I don’t wanna…” Soonyoung trails off, turning his head from Seungkwan. He musters a small smile that cuts to Seungkwan’s very core. “Hey, baby.”

“Don’t,” Seungkwan whispers. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s okay, hyung. You can depend on me this time.”

Soonyoung doesn’t cry, but he does curl into Seungkwan, pressing his face into Seungkwan’s neck. They lay there for eons, until Soonyoung can find his balance again. Afterwards, they’ll go for dinner and Seungkwan will listen patiently while Soonyoung vents. Maybe Seungkwan can’t fix all of Soonyoung’s problems, but he can be there, and that’s a start.

43. When do they first realize they’ve fallen in love?

Gosh, this is a tough question. Soonyoung realises he’s in love with Seungkwan when they’re like a year into dating. Seungkwan’s humming under his breath while he gets ready for bed; at this point, they’ve been sharing a bed for years now. Seungkwan’s things have encroached into Soonyoung’s space – to the point where they can’t really figure out what items belong to who anymore. Soonyoung’s twenty-two, Seungkwan is twenty, and Soonyoung realises that he can’t imagine going through the rest of his life without Seungkwan.

Seungkwan figures out he’s in love with Soonyoung when they get lost in Echo Park Lake. All it had taken was a sheepish smile and a simple apology and Seungkwan realised the only reason he wasn’t breaking up with Soonyoung on the spot was because he loved him too much to get mad about it.

49. How do they make long distance work?

Seungkwan has to go back home for three months. It’s utter agony – not just for SoonKwan, but for the other members, Seungkwan’s family, Soonyoung’s family and the managers.

Soonyoung calls every day (sometimes more than once), Seungkwan cries every other day and Soonyoung can’t stop talking about Seungkwan like he’s dead.

“You know Seungkwan’s not dead right?” Jihoon comments snidely, kicking Soonyoung’s prone form where he’s lying face-down on the practice room floor. That can’t be sanitary.

“He’s not dead, but I am,” Soonyoung moans. “Seungkwannie. Baby. The love of my life. An entire ocean away.”

“He’s literally six hours away,” Jihoon hisses. “What the fuck, Soonyoung.”

Suffice to say, everyone agrees that it’s best they don’t get separated. They’re utterly useless without each other.

SeokHoon

21. What happens when they get lost on a trip?

All Jihoon wanted was some cup ramen from the convenience store. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t step foot out of the hotel room, but Seokmin had insisted the squeeze in a date in Saitama before they leave. It’s a testament to how whipped Jihoon is that he hadn’t protested too much.

Now they’re lost in a foreign country where both of them speak fuck-all of the language. They are going to die here. Damn Seokmin and his endearing sense of adventure.

“We’re not lost!” Seokmin insists, although he keeps whipping his head around. His eyes are wide in his typical ‘I don’t know where the fuck I am’ expression. “Was that 7-eleven there before?”

“Yes,” Jihoon deadpans. “Seokmin. We’re lost.”

“No,” Seokmin whimpers, shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m sorry, hyung.”

Jihoon toys with the idea of pretending to be madder than he is, but Seokmin already looks like a kicked puppy. He hates seeing his sunshine so sad. He shuffles closer, resting his head on Seokmin’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he sighs, lacing their fingers. In the safety of nighttime, Jihoon isn’t scared of showing affection like he usually is. “Come on, we’ll find the hotel one way or another, okay?”

(It turns out all they were doing was circling the neighbourhood their hotel was in. Figures it would take Seokmin to royally fuck up what must be the easiest hotel to find in the whole world.)

29. What does each of them do to cheer the other up?

When Jihoon’s upset, he’ll lock himself in his studio. It’s the only place he feels truly safe to cry or scream. He only lets two people in once he gets like this – Seungcheol (his best friend and someone he considers a brother) and Seokmin (the love of his life and the person he trusts with his heart wholeheartedly).

Seokmin will tap his special knock on the door and Jihoon will let him in without protest or comment. Seokmin comes laden with all of Jihoon’s favourite food and wearing his cuddliest sweatshirt – because Jihoon is getting cuddled and coddled within an inch of his life, whether he likes it or not!

Jihoon allows himself to be babied and little spooned until whatever was weighing him down dissipates. If that doesn’t work, he’ll eventually open his mouth and talk about it. It feels a lot like pulling out a bad tooth – hurts like hell on the extraction, but feels a fuck ton better after. Jihoon always celebrates his improved mood with a kiss and that’s how Seokmin knows Jihoon is okay again.

Seokmin’s pain always runs deeper than Jihoon’s, if only because he hides it better and buries it deeper. Seokmin will smile and fake it until he can’t anymore, and then he’ll withdraw from the rest of the world.

Jihoon has to force his way into Seokmin’s little bubble; it’s impossible to get Seokmin to agree to anything when he’s in a funk, so Jihoon uses his special brand of stubbornness to insert himself into Seokmin’s bad day and try his best to make it better.

Jihoon’s method always varies, because it depends on how bad Seokmin let it get. Sometimes Jihoon will bring Seokmin out for an impromptu ice cream date. Other times, Jihoon brings the date to Seokmin, with his favourite pilfered sweets and a movie on Netflix. On the rare occasion Seokmin is too deep in his head to be cheered by much, Jihoon will spoon Seokmin and lie there with their limbs entangled until Seokmin deigns Jihoon worthy to rant to. Sometimes Seokmin will ask Jihoon to sing for him, voice cracking from emotion, and Jihoon always complies.

If it were anyone else, Jihoon wouldn’t bother. But this is Seokmin, the holder of his heart and the only bright light in his life. He won’t let the sun dim. Not on his watch.

43. When do they first realize they’ve fallen in love?

Jihoon realises it during Don’t Wanna Cry era, when he looks at Seokmin and realises lyrics make sense when it’s the younger vocalist who’s in his head. At some point, Seokmin had become his muse without even noticing it. That’s also about the time Jihoon finally stopped dancing around their not-quite-dates-but-still-totally-dates and decided that he wants to officially put a label to what they are.

(Jihoon had screamed “I really wanna be your boyfriend” in Seokmin’s face. It was neither romantic nor suave, but it’s a good thing Seokmin isn’t looking for either of those qualities in a boyfriend anyway. If anything, it’s a hilarious story to tell their grandkids some day.)

Seokmin realises he loves Jihoon when they’re on a date, after filming Pinwheel. Jihoon’s still in that soft, white sweater. They’re in a pojangmacha, sharing rambokki and a bottle of soju. Jihoon keeps resting his hands over Seokmin’s like he doesn’t realise he’s doing it, and Seokmin’s eyes keep catching on the dimples on Jihoon’s cheeks. Jihoon’s spilt some sauce on the shirt, cursing under his breath as he tries to scrub it away in vain.

49. How do they make long distance work?

They make it work surprisingly well. They’re close and they’re whipped for each other, but they don’t actually live in each other’s back pockets. Jihoon has to make it back home for three weeks because of his hyung’s wedding and Seokmin has to stay behind for BooSeokSoon promotions.

The only real change is that instead of Jihoon replying to Seokmin’s texts after an hour, he replies them instantaneously. Seungcheol is stupid enough to jokingly suggest that Jihoon stay away from Seokmin longer, if it means his messages get sent on time. Seokmin just so happened to be on a video call with Jihoon at the time.

Jihoon swears he doesn’t know how Seungcheol’s lines get cut in half for their title track on the next comeback.

Feel free to ask me more of these ship asks here!

[citrus-cactus]

Hey citrus! I'm about to go to Japan in about a month and a half. Do you have any good tips? Like, how many people did you encounter that spoke English? How did you handle money (exchanging or just getting it from ATMs)?

Ooh, how exciting!! I’m really happy for you, I hope you have a great time! 

Overall, I found Japan to be quite easy to get around in. All of the bus/train information I encountered had English alongside Japanese, and several restaurants offered menus in English as well. There were certainly a few times when I was standing around in the middle of a train station trying to figure out how to get where I needed to go, but the station information booths were quite helpful for general directions and I was able to find enough people who spoke English to get around otherwise, particularly while sticking to touristy areas.

As for money, we just used ATMs! Pretty much every major convenience store has them (and there are a LOT of convenience stores), and I think we used one in the airport as well. Didn’t exchange a thing! Major credit cards work at lots of stores and restaurants too. Would recommend paying cash for smaller expenses.

I think my other advice would be to figure out what you want to do and do some research to determine if you need to make any preparations beforehand! For example, the Digimon pop-up cafe required a reservation, which I made a few weeks in advance and printed a copy of the confirmation at home because I didn’t want anything to go wrong (hey, priorities) XD On the slightly more spontaneous side, my partner and I signed up for a cooking class while we were there–less than 24 hours in advance– and it turned out we got a private lesson because the other couple cancelled but didn’t tell our instructor (rude!!) :O I also rented pocket Wifi for the days we were in and around Tokyo. Wifi is available all over the place, but it was nice to carry it around for the extra peace of mind, especially while I was wandering around Ikebukuro hunting for specific shops and cafes. I rented it online before I left and it was waiting at my hotel when I got there, then I just dropped it into the nearest mailbox when I was done. Very easy!

Also, decide if it’s worth it for you to get a JR Pass. We determined it wasn’t for our trip, but I think it largely depends on where you’re going and how many times you’re planning on taking a bullet train ^_^ It would also save some time to not have to buy individual tickets.

Hope that helps, and let me know if I can offer any more advice!

[leggigoesabroad]

we were staying in paris to get away from our parents

Lyric from “Paris” by the Chainsmokers.  We (Rach and I) used to love the Chainsmokers until we found out they were trash humans who cheated on their girlfriends with no remorse, and instead we’ve followed the ex-girlfriends loyally since the breakups.  Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY CARY!! It’s 11:23 am here in Paris on Cinco de Mayberger and I wish I was in Philly holding that muffin and celebrating our girl, but hopefully I can be soon.  

I really shouldn’t be blogging right now because I’m sitting in a super cool cafe that is meant for working and co-working and I’m paying to be here, so I shouldn’t waste my paid time on blogging... but hey, I’m waiting for my Adderall to kick in and also I think this is the coolest concept ever.  It’s a super cozy space and you pay for the length of time you’re here.  It’s a little expensive but I have no sense of responsibility anymore.  It’s 5 euro an hour and that gets you access to the wifi, convenient plugs everywhere, and an all-inclusive self-serve tea and coffee bar.  I think it’s kind of genius!!  There’s snacks, bread, nutella, all kinds of tea, coffee, etc.  Takes away all the stress of posting up at a coffee shop for hours and wondering how much you need to buy to make yourself feel okay about using their space all day.  Kitty and I are personally very passionate about rental businesses/unlimited concepts like this, and I’m making a mental note to tell her about this so we can open one at home.  There’s a chance Americans wouldn’t go for it, but I think at the right price it’d be dope.  Of course, it basically reminds me of a bottomless brunch, and I’m pre-panicked I won’t get my money’s worth.  What if we served mimosas at our place, Kitty?!  Interesting.  I wish it wasn’t 3:30 am in Breck right now so we could discuss this.  

Last I left off I was on the train to Paris.  Vienna and Prague genuinely feel like years ago.  Such a weird trip, start to finish.  Not the kind I’d design on my own, but not NOT... just odd to be here mostly alone without a plan and kind of figuring it out as I go.  Not my style.  I got into Gare de L’est in Paris and figured out the Metro to Angie and Adam’s place around 7 pm.  Their 7-month-old is very French and goes to bed around 9:30 pm, so we bonded right away and she instantly took to me.  They tell me she’s mostly like that with all strangers, but I feel I’m special to her.  She cries when I leave the room!!  I had to sneak out to the cafe this morning because she was bawling when I went to my room after saying good morning to her.  Sweet angel.  Her name is “Thea” but they exclusively call her “Doodle” and it reminds me of our muff.  We ended up just hanging out all night on their couch and catching up, and then they got some pizzas and pasta from the place across the street for dinner and I ate All Of It.  The French don’t fuck around with their food (she says, shoving a shortbread cake coated in Nutella in her mouth between keystrokes.)  Had a bottle of wine and we stayed up until 1 am or so, just so lovely.

I woke up Saturday morning and braved what was admittedly freezing rain to walk to the local bakery Angie suggested.  Since they live right next to the Luxembourg Gardens I also popped in there, as it reminds me of the photo Amy and I took sitting on the fountain mirroring each other, back in January 2011.  I captioned it “The City of Love and Weight Gain” and steel trap Amanda remembered that ever since and recently posted a pic with the same caption, smh, she’s incredible.  Learned on this morning walk that my right black boot had worn through the sole, so my foot got soaked and I felt that “squidge squidge” with each step... so fun.  Went to the bakery and had a panic attack leading up to the order as I rehearsed what I was going to say in my head a million times over.  Eventually spit out “Je voudrais... trois croissants....deux pain au chocolat... et un baguette....s’il vois plait....” and to the girl’s credit, she didn’t immediately transfer to English upon hearing how painfully transparently American I sounded, and gave me the total in French!  I obviously had blacked out and couldn’t hear her, but the total was displayed on the cash register, so I paid and survived.

After lazing around a bit the rest of the morning, we all packed up and went across town to a Scottish bar that was playing the Tottenham game that Adam was interested in.  I love sports so I was happy to go, but man, soccer is dumb.  At one point one guy got a red card for lightly shoving a player after the play, and I almost burst out laughing at how that move disqualified him from that game and the next game, whereas in hockey that’s literally encouraged and we tally how many hits per game a player has.  Our friend Aaron came to join us!!  So good to see him, I think the last time I saw him was December 2016 right after I had moved to Denver and he was passing through town.  I remember specifically because I showed him my apartment, that first one in Uptown next to Kitty, and it was completely empty.  Back when I glamped all day.  He’s near fluent in French now and I find it attractive.  

We all went to an ex-pat bar after that and met up with Adam’s English co-worker and her friend who I found enchanting.  They’re both from Brighton and were just lovely, interesting, funny women.  We talked a little bit about the differences between England vs. the States and they said, “one thing we’ve always wanted to know - why do you have those huge gaps in the doors between your public bathrooms? You can practically see inside!” I said “I honestly have no idea and we all hate it too.  Ask me something else I can answer!!!”  We drank there for a while until Angie took Thea home because she was starting to get a little under the weather and fussy, and Aaron had a weird reaction to his IPA and immediately lost his voice.  Adam went home to Angie, and Angie’s niece who had just come in asked if I wanted to get dinner.  To be honest, I did not want to get dinner.  She is a little odd for a 30-year-old female and I didn’t have any idea what we were going to talk about.  Spoiler: I was correct.  She’s the kind of person who just won’t respond if she isn’t interested in what you have to say.  So we’d be walking along chatting, and I’d say something, and she’d just be silent.  Laaa dee daaa... she also lived in Versailles in college and is also fluent in French, and knew her way around very well, so I unintentionally just felt dumb and patronized.  We stopped at a place she wanted to go to for “authentic French cuisine”, blech, and I just got an omelette.  The menu was all in French and luckily I mostly knew what I was reading, but she didn’t even lightly offer to translate. Ha.  She eventually got more approachable and bubbly when we started talking about dating and her boyfriend and the online dating scene.  After dinner, to her credit, she thanked me for agreeing to dinner with her and humoring me on the choice of restaurant and walking together.  So maybe she’s just one of those people who doesn’t emote well but is kind and appreciative on the inside.  Walked home and went to sleep, again in silence.

Woke up intermittently and kept checking the Phillies’ score in the middle of the night, only to see a very sad ending... sigh.  At least Rhys and Bryce looked hot AF.  Angie and Adam are Nats fans but admittedly love both Rhys and Bryce.  I showed Adam the press conference of Bryce thanking Ned as a part of his signing, and Adam was THOROUGHLY impressed, so that made it all worth it.

Going to stay at this cafe for several hours and try to give Angie and Adam some space, as Angie thinks she and Thea are getting sick and I don’t want to impose more than I already have.  I may walk to the 6th later to visit the Hotel Raphael, Hotel Majestic, and the Peninsula; as ER has places in each of them and it would be amazing to see them firsthand.  Usually people on-site are very kind to me when I just pop in and say I work for ER, because it’s in their best interest to show me good service so I highly recommend them to my members.  Maybe I’ll splurge and have a cocktail or a short massage at the world-famous Peninsula hotel!!  TBD, the day is young.  For now, hopefully I accomplish my freelance work so I’m not a miserable jet-lagged shrew next week.  Wish me luck!! 

[nightglider124]

Japan: My Trip

Thought I’d put together a little photo diary of my two weeks in Japan because why not and I just like to share with my tumblr pals.

Read on to find out what I got up to.

Sunday 13th May

This was the day I flew out to Japan. I packed my bag and was ready to leave at 11am UK time. I’m not gonna lie to ya’ll, I was an emotional mess, leaving my family behind. 

You should know, I’ve never been on a trip without my family and I’ve never been out of Europe. So, going out to Japan with just my best friend was a big thing for me. So, was pretty tearful and then my mum like burst into tears; she’s a worrier. 

Anyway, my dad dropped me off at the airport to meet my bestie and we did all the boring airport stuff and soon enough, we were on the plane. The sky is ridiculously pretty at different times during an overnight flight or at least, a flight that crosses different time zones. 

Pretty uneventful. I mostly ate, slept and wrote chapter 1 of CTD: Bound. 

Monday 14th May

So, I arrived in Japan’s Narita airport at 11am.

Then I went up and grabbed my suitcase as well as going and grabbing my pocket wifi - Something that is tremendously helpful if you go to Japan. I don’t know what it’s like for you guys but in London, I pretty much have wifi anywhere I go whereas in Japan, it wasn’t as easy to come across; at least not for free. 

The pocket wifi was a godsend. It can connect up to 10 devices and it lasts all day long when fully charged. Now, there were a couple times it tapped out but you just need to turn it off and turn it on again. 

It cost about £60 for 2 weeks but if you’re going with people, it works out better. Me and my friend split it so we only paid £30 each but very worth it.

But, yeah, defo recommend this for anyone who is going to Japan. It was a big help, especially when needing to look up locations and/or directions.

Next, we went and grabbed our Japan rail passes which look like so:

This was probably the best thing I bought for Japan. Not even joking. 

Even if you aren’t going very far, this thing helps so much. It’s a pass that allows you to use any trains that are owned by the JR company which is a fair amount that helps you get around Tokyo and surrounding districts. Note: You have to buy it before you fly to Japan and take the exchange form that comes in the post with you to Japan. You exchange it at the airport and they give you the passes above. Just make double sure your passport has been stamped because otherwise, they won’t let you have it. 

Anyway, this was £310 for 2 weeks but again: WORTH IT. It does depend on what you’re doing but me and my friend were out and using transport every single day. We also went far. We went to Hiroshima, Kyoto and Osaka - All covered by the passes. And for example, £310 is basically a return ticket to Kyoto so you are already making your money back. 

So, we picked these up and using them, hopped on the shinkansen (bullet train) to Shinjuku (Sound familiar, Titan fans? Yes, it’s the ‘roughest part of town’ according to Robin in the Trouble in Tokyo movie). It took about an hour and then we checked into our hotel which was: Shinjuku Prince Hotel.

It was a really nice hotel actually. The staff were friendly and spoke really good English. I recommend staying here; it’s right in the heart of busy Shinjuku and was only 5 mins from the station. We booked a deluxe twin room because two rooms worked out more expensive and it was not too shabby at all. I didn’t actually take any pictures so I snubbed some off google.

Anyway, we were running a little late and we had tickets to the Studio Ghibli museum so naturally, I was freaking out because the website expresses that they are strict on being on time for your slot. I nearly had a breakdown because... dunno if ya’ll remember but I had a right time trying to get a hold of these tickets. They sell out so quickly it is unreal. Anyway, our slot was 4pm and they only allow you to be 30 mins late. 

We arrived at 4:50pm and I was close to tears as I ran into the park it’s situated in. I was so annoyed and so scared they weren’t going to let us in. But...

They did!! The guy was so sweet; I think he could see by my face how much I wanted to go inside. He was like all smiley and was like it’s okay, go on in. I was like THANK YOU JESUS. Here are some photos:

They don’t allow photography inside to preserve the magic of visiting. And honestly, it was so nice inside. It felt just like a Ghibli movie and seeing the animation process and the short film and the original drawings... it was all so amazing. Being a Ghibli fan makes this 1000% better but it’s still great for people who aren’t as into it. My friend isn’t really into Ghibli movies but she thought it was still pretty cool whereas there was me in like awe over all of it.

Anyway, we stayed there about an hour and as you can imagine, we were frazzled af. We were tired from the flight but I wanted us to force ourselves to stay up so jet lag wasn’t as much a problem. 

After, we made our way back to Shinjuku where I took some pics from my hotel room:

Then we grabbed some McDonalds which was literally just across from us; something quick so we didn’t starve. I facetimed my family, showered and fell asleep.

Tuesday 15th May

So, the first full day we were there, it was a more chilled, sightseeing day. Nothing too taxing and we felt a lot more refreshed after a proper sleep.

First, we went and checked out the Tokyo Imperial Palace which was really pretty but we couldn’t go inside. It was mega hot the entire time we were in Japan; I thought I’d die. I hate the heat.

And because I was out in the heat all day and didn’t think to put suncream on... yeah, you can see where this is going... 

More on that later, because then we carried on to the Yasukuni shrine which is just down the street from the East Gardens of the palace. 

The shrine was cool and everything was so pretty; very tranquil and peaceful.

In the afternoon, we headed over to the Sunshine City mall in Ikebukuro where I forced my friend into the Pokemon Centre Store which was LIT.

I was fucking excited, ya’ll. I got some really cute stuff too. Got myself some Mimikyu chopsticks, an Eevee tail key holder, a Pikachu glasses case, a Pikachu makeup bag and a little Mimikyu figure bc Mimikyu is a fave and I have no cool stuff with it on. 

I also got my brother most of his souvenirs in here because we have loved Pokemon since the dawn of time. I mean, we’ve fallen out of it in recent years because all the new gen pokemon etc... we’re more for the original pokemon and original series and games. Seriously, when kids come up to me like, do you even know Pokemon I’m like bitch step back you don’t even KNOW. It’s like I got a Pokemon CD for my brother and it had a japanese version of one of the songs from the first movie and we were like screaming. That film man, don’t even look at me.

Ahem... the Pokemon store was so wicked but mega expensive like shit son. Glad I took so much money with me because I NEEDED IT.

After the Pokemon store, we went down a level to the Studio Ghibli store where I didn’t get as much stuff as I thought I was gonna. 

But, I got a Spirited Away fan with No Face on it, a Totoro and No face figure as well as a Totoro bib and hat for my niece. 

Then we went and had fooood where I noticed... I was extremely sunburnt... Like in the below pic, you can’t see it that much because it hadn’t really come out full pelt yet.

Pls ignore my hamster face but see my chest? Burny burny burnt burnt. I got back to the hotel later that night and I had the shakes where it was hot and all the heat was there rather than all over. It was horrible.

I’m lucky I decided to wear full on makeup that day otherwise my face would have gotten buuurnt. Well done, Estee Lauder foundation, well done.

But yeah, it wasn’t the best end to the day because then I was all uncomfortable and my skin was sensitive and I was mad at myself for not putting on cream so then I got all upset and cried but I think I was still tired from the journey too and I was overwhelmed but yeah; kinda sucked.

Other than the sunburn, I also didn’t pack shorts for under my dress so my thighs rubbed and were in agony as well as my vans gave me like 4 blisters on each foot so I couldn’t walk or at least was in extreme pain when I tried so getting back to the hotel was a damn hoot.

Besides all that, it was a pretty good day!

Wednesday 16th

This was the day we trekked all the way down to Hiroshima which is like a 5 hour journey by train. We had to take two trains but it was actually not too bad. It certainly didn’t feel like it took that long to get down to Hiroshima. 

One thing I will say about longer train journeys; remember to reserve a seat. Some like the one from Narita Airport are reserve only so you have to reserve a seat for it. But, others don’t need it and have “non reserved” cars but mark my words, if you’re travelling on these trains at a busy time, it really pays off to reserve a seat. We didn’t for Hiroshima and whilst we found seats for the 3 hour part of the journey; on the second train, we had to stand for like 45 minutes because there were no seats and then even when we did get to sit down, it was separated so yeah; book your train seats, people.

Once we arrived in Hiroshima, we hopped on a ferry which took us to Miyajima island. It’s about a 10 minute journey and once again, it’s covered by the JR pass. I loved that thing to death not even kidding.

Here’s some pictures I took on the ride over:

This island is home to the big red Torii gate that people may know of. I picked up some cute souvenirs and ate katsu. And there were even deer roaming around the place! A couple got married too whilst we were visiting and it was so nice. Again, it was mega hot so I was dying from that aspect but otherwise, I could live on this little island.

Unfortunately, we spent so much time at the island; we didn’t get round to doing the two other things we had planned which were seeing Hiroshima Castle and the Atomic dome memorial. I was kinda bummed by not seeing those but the last train was at 5pm and we weren’t staying the night so we had to get said train. It was okay though; it’s something to add to the list of things to see when I eventually revisit.

We got back at about 10pm and then it was lights out because we were exhausted.

Thursday 17th May

This was another sightseeing day that was fairly local considering we were pretty tired from Hiroshima still. 

We traveled over to Asakusa which has the lovely Senso-ji temple and shrine. It was really cute, the walk up to the temple is lined with all these little shops and souvenir like places which have charms and fans etc. Really nice.

Inside, they do this thing where you pay 100 yen and you shake a metal box that contains lots of sticks with numbers on. When you bring out a stick, you find the number it matches and you bring out the fortune. You get a good fortune, regular fortune or bad fortune. I got myself a regular ol’ fortune XD. 

But, they also have this rack so that if you get a bad fortune, you tie it to the rack to rid yourself of the bad fortune whereas a good or regular one; you would carry it with you.

Other than that, we hung out and then went back to our hotel for a while before heading out again to check out the nightlife of the area. Everything was mega lit up and was so nice. We went and grabbed dinner and also went and got crepes. They were a m a z i n g. Like they were so good ugh. 

After that, went back, showered and slept. Pretty uneventful day; just being touristy. 

Friday 18th May

Again, more sightseeing on this day. We went and saw the Tokyo Metropolitan Building and looked out over Tokyo.

Then, we went to the Meiji Shrine.

Aaand lastly, we went to Shibuya for the evening.

Yes, those are people dressed as characters from Mario Kart driving in the streets of Tokyo. This place was crazy. XD

After seeing the crossing scramble that is so infamous, we trekked back to the hotel and fell asleep.

Saturday 19th May

This day we literally went on trains all day to collect stamps. In Japan, they do these things called Eki stamps which are stamps you can find at stations, museums, shrines, tourist spots etc.

I haven’t got any pictures of mine but i got like 50 of them whilst I was in Japan. Going on one train line at all the stops got me like 30. 

We had nothing else planned on this day so my friend suggested the collecting stamps XD.

Sunday 20th May

This was one of my two absolute favourite days whilst I was there. It was the day I went and saw Mt Fuji and went into Aokigahara forest. 

It was approx 2 hours from Tokyo but we’d booked a tour instead of trying to do it ourselves. It worked out a lot easier. When we reached the highest point you can go to on Mt Fuji, by vehicle anyway, we had 30 mins to sightsee. We took pictures and went into the souvenir shop etc. 

My god, it was so frickin’ cold up there. Obviously. We were high off the ground like shit, it was freezing. But, pretty pictures.

We then went caving in an ice cave that is iced over all year round and is not usually open to the public. 

After that, we were taken back to Shinjuku where we grabbed food and went back to sleeeep.

Monday 21st May

We went to Kyoto on this day. We managed to see all we wanted to as well but then again, Kyoto was only a 2 and a bit hour train ride away.

When we got there, we saw the Fushimi Inari Taisha.

They were pretty but boy, was there a lot of people. I had to wait for so long to get pictures with none of very few people in it.

Then, we headed over to Kinkaku-ji which is this golden temple.

Again, very pretty.

Lastly, we checked out the Arashiyama Bamboo grove which was pretty also.

After that, we headed home to our hotel. We had an exciting day the next day.

Tuesday 22nd May

TOKYO DISNEYLAND, BITCHES.

I was excited and I can see why people hype Disneyland up. No matter which one you visit, there is this big sense of nostalgia and magic. It was unforgettable and wasn’t half as busy as some theme parks get here. But, I suppose we did go on a Tuesday.

Would hate to see it on a weekend.

The mike melonbread was delicious <3

Disneyland catered to the childish side of me and I loved every single bit of it. <3

Wednesday 23rd May

On this day, we visited Osaka which is about the same sorta time out from Tokyo as Kyoto is. Again, not too much going on. We checked out Osaka Castle.

And then, we checked out Dotonbori which was also very cool.

After that, we headed back to Tokyo. There wasn’t too much we were desperate to see in Osaka and it was raining which wasn’t the nicest.

Thursday 24th May

Last full day meant Harajuku and Shibuya for shopping day. I haven’t got any pictures but omg we went and did those purikura photo things? They are hilarious. It was funny doing them but even looking at them; they funny XD

I bought a bunch of stuff for myself as well as my family as souvenirs. It was funnn. 

Friday 25th May

The day I flew home to London :(. I was sad to leave Japan but I was really happy to be coming home. No matter how much you may call your country a shit place, there’s no place like home. 

Omg, I went over my bag weight limit with all the stuff I bought. I’m allowed 23kg and my suitcase was 27kg -.-

I paid £65 for that extra weight because I was not about to be that person who opens their suitcase in the middle of check in trying to decrease the weight XD

Pretty straight forward afterwards. I flew home and when I got to my house, my family let me have reign on dinner so we got KFC.

So, that is what I got up to in Japan. I loved every minute I was there. It is so very different than London and it has much more beauty than any city I’ve been to has.

I can’t wait to go back someday and I encourage anyone and everyone to go there. It is something else! <3

Thanks for reading if you made it to the end! I appreciate it ^.^

[canaryatlaw]

alright. it’s 9 pm here. I’m obviously trying to get to bed early since I have to wake up at 5:30 am and go take the fucking bar exam. Predictably, I’m a ball of nerves right now. But I’ll be fine, I always am. I’m good at tests, it’s easy for me to recall information, and though essays always give me anxiety initially once I get there and start writing them I actually like them, and tomorrow is all essays. 10 of them total. 1 where they give you a whole packet including law in the jurisdiction and write your analysis totally from that, which will probably be the best one for me. Then there are 3 Illinois specific essays and 6 multistate essays. it’s a lot. but anyway, today. I did get up when my alarm went off at 10 because I didn’t want to sleep in too long and not be able to fall asleep tonight. I had decided I would skip showering this morning and shower tonight so I wouldn’t have to shower tomorrow morning, but upon waking up I found I really wanted to shower, so I did, and now it’s night and I really want to shower again lol but I won’t and I’ll do it after I get back tomorrow. So, woke up, showered, made oatmeal which only resulted in one kitchen disaster (I was trying to get the brown sugar to go into the pot a little at a time but then it shifted and all of my brown sugar was now liquified in my pot, so that was fun) and was looking on my computer for stuff when I saw an email from the health insurance company that does our prescriptions, upon which I remembered oh fuck, I need to call my doctors office like today and get this figured out. Basically, I was at the doctor like two weeks ago, and they gave me the prescriptions, which I mailed onto the health insurance company I referenced above, but they haven’t sent me the meds yet, and I’m running out of one of them, and I was set to run out Wednesday afternoon, and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about that until like, Wednesday evening, so I needed to call my doctor’s office and ask them to call in an emergency supply for like two days, and like, I love my psychiatrist so much he’s great and I wouldn’t trade him for the world, but god I have his receptionist staff so much. Whenever I call for anything it turns into such a production, at least this time they didn’t tell me he can’t call in prescriptions to Illinois like he does every time I call, but they had me call the insurance company to find out when the meds would get to me so they could then give me enough of the meds, and the insurance company people said it’s set to come on Wednesday in the mail but like if that didn’t happen I would’ve been screwed so they called in like 2 days emergency supply of it but I don’t actually take it at the dosage he prescribes so I have more than 2 days worth lol but I don’t expect to need to use them, I’m just glad I’m covered. but yeah, I did other things around the house and started getting ready for a bit, then took an uber to target that was somehow like $2 because of some promotion they were running, and grabbed the prescription plus some candy because I needed candy to bring with me here. I have pretzels and potato chips, various candies, granola bars, and these microwave muffin things that has the dry mix in a little cup and you add water and microwave it and it’s like this awesome chocolate muffin, which are super good except you have to be really careful to get all of the mix wet or at the bottom it gets grainy and really gross but otherwise it’s good lol. I also have some of the Starbucks via refresher packs that I’m gonna add to a water bottle tonight and stick it in the fridge so it’ll be good to go in the morning because that’s my method of getting caffeine, which will obviously be much needed. I ubered back from target but it took forever to get to me which was obnoxious, but oh well. I continued getting ready and eventually didn’t have much else to do, so I just kinda hung out for a bit. The school bar people told us not to study today because we wouldn’t remember anything anyway, but like, I know that’s not true for me lol so I did a little. The hotel didn’t have check in till 4 so I was basically just killing time at this point. When we eventually got there I got yet another uber, but I put it on pool and nobody ended up joining so I only paid $10 for the same ride I would’ve had to pay $24 for (#winning). The hotel is kinda small, but it’s nice, the bigger hotel that’s actually at one of the test sites (not the one I got assigned to regardless) but all their rooms were booked because I had to book late since we didn’t know which bar I was taking for like, fucking ever. But yeah, I checked in, easy enough, came upstairs and settled in a bit, figured out how to get the wifi to work and turned on the tv then subsequently broke the tv and had to figure out how to make it work again. I ordered pizza from the same chain place I normally get it from except this was different and I didn’t really like it very much, idk what the difference was but it just wasn’t doing it for me, plus my tongue was being really obnoxiously sensitive so I really couldn’t eat anything other than like, the crust, so that was also irritating. But I sat here on my computer and looked over the mini-outline book (and by mini I mean some of them are like 70 pages). It’s funny to look over the secured transactions material, because at the end of the semester I already had the bar books and used them to study because they had a comprehensive summary of everything I needed to learn, I actually printed one and brought it with me to the test (which was open book, obviously) and it was very helpful and I somehow got an A- in that class that I had no idea what was going on in for a solid 5/6ths of the semester, and when I listened to that lecture yesterday I retained a good amount of it, so I was happy about that. But I went through the ancillary subject outlines that were generally more like 20 pages, so much more manageable, and made sure I had all my mnemonics down, including the one for the hearsay exceptions which is like, 20 letters long lol. I then did go over the Illinois distinction section for the main subjects, because if I get an essay on one of those in the Illinois part I obviously have to answer under Illinois law. I watched the office on comedy central while doing all of this because I couldn’t find the channel guide and the office is always a solid choice. It’s funny to see Ellie Kemper as Erin because she looks so little there as compared to how she is on Kimmy Schmidt now. but those were very entertaining. So I got to the end of the outlines, turned off the tv, took my pills so there would be a little time for the more sleep causing ones to kick in, then started writing this, and now here we are. I have a lot of mixed feelings about everything going on tomorrow. I know I’m smart, that’s never been in question, I’m just worried I didn’t spend enough time preparing and I feel ill-equipped, because it’s just so much information....like you could get a question on the lesson from one day of class, for all of your classes, for three years. it’s a massive amount of information. I’ve also been acutely aware of just how alone I am. My brother never moved out, so he was with my parents every step of the way through this, but I chose to stay out here and do it myself because that’s always been who I am, the independent one who can’t wait to get out into the world. And I’m here, but it gets lonely some times, especially being that I’m super-extroverted so not being around people for this whole studying period was not doing well for me (one of many reasons I was all to eager to get ice cream whenever Jess wanted to). Even now, it’s just me here. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a hotel room completely by myself before, except for that awful night when I got stranded overnight in Philadelphia and had to go to that awful creepy hotel where I didn’t sleep a wink, just stayed up reading, because I did not feel safe at all (and I was only 19) but obviously this is a very different situation. And I mean, I am more or less a proper adult now, I’m 26, which feels like ages older than 25, because now I’m in my late 20s, and I don’t know how I feel about all of that. I mean, these are all choices I made, and they’re not ones I regret, not at this point at least. It would’ve been nice to have someone here with me, but I made the decision to leave those people in New York and come out here and do it myself, and I am doing it. I want my legal career to be about the things I did, the prestige I brought to my name, not following in the shadows of my dad and brother, I want that name to be known for me and what I’ve done, what I will do. And I know I can do it. Got all the way through law school, this is just one more hurdle I gotta jump over before I can actually be a full blown lawyer. I don’t know if my parents are gonna come for the swearing in, it hasn’t come up yet, I mean it would be nice to have them there just because I would feel very, very lonely if I was all by myself surrounded by people who had their families there with them.....because they didn’t move halfway across the country from their families. Sigh, I know I’m rambling at this point. Just a lot on my mind. But tomorrow I’m going to wake up confident and ready to crush this test, because I know I can do it, I KNOW I can, and I will, and I’m going to be a total kickass lawyer who is instrumental in instituting reforms in the child welfare system that will increase adoptions, decrease foster kids getting bounced between homes, better prevent kids from being brought into foster care when it is preventable by providing parents with the right resources, better support to keep foster teens in high school and bridge them into college (the college rate for foster care kids is something dismal like 2%, not even exaggerating), decrease the number of children in residential facilities who do not really need to be there, increase the number of foster homes nationwide, provide resources for the teenage mothers in the system so they don’t end up having their child taken from them and continue perpetuating the cycle, and so many more, I could go on all day about all the things I’m going to change. And I’m going to do it. I know I can, so I will. 

Just you wait. 

Goodnight babes. If you want to send prayers/good vibes/whatever my way for tomorrow, it’d be much appreciated. Thank you. ❤️

[msl4233]

A neurodivergent guide to traveling to Japan

Idk how many people will benefit from this, and I guess some of my tips will help neurotypicals as well, but its 1 am and I camt sleep so here we go. (In no particular order)

Don’t take the hotel soaps with you. In America, this is perfectly fine. They have to throw them away after each person. But in Japan (at least in the hotels I’ve stayed in), they reuse the shampoos and such. You might notice that its a normal size bottle, and has some missing. That’s because they sanitize the outside of the container and leave it for the next guest until it gets used up. There are a few things like toothbrushes, hair ties, and small packages of shaving cream that are more one use that you can take with you, especially if you’ve opened them. Those they have to throw away.

Japanese thermostats are in Celcius, so if you’re American like me they can be tricky to figure out what temperature it is inside. Google can be very helpful here and has an online converter. Some thermostats have a button to change from Celcius to Fahrenheit as well.

To board the airplane early (if you have an invisible disability and have problems with boarding like me), line up with the wheelchairs and people with small children. In America you can explain in more detail and the Tsa will ptobably ask, but in Japan (and Taiwan for that matter, I had a layover flight there), just say “Special needs” and they let you go right ahead.

Speaking of tsa, their website has a customizeable card you can print out and show at security that tells them what your disability is so they can help you get through security smoothly. Mine says I’m autistic, and my dad has one that says he has an artificial hip replacement.

Weighted blankets have to go through additional screening if they are carried in your carryon. For me this meant that it was removed from my bag and the tsa worker felt each of the pockets to make sure there’s nothing hiding in them. The worker was very respectful and did it in front of me, explaining what he was doing as he went along. He let me fold it and put it back in my bag. I’m not sure how Japan does this, since I transferred it to my checked bag after the overnight flight. Ill update when I go home and go through security again.

If you take prescription medication, check a few months in advance if youre allowed to bring it into the country. Some medications are required to be sent to Japan two months in advance for screening (like prescription painkillers). I take Zoloft and it was not required to go through this process, or be declared at customs. Just make sure you keep it on your body during the entire airplane process. Don’t ever put your meds in your checked bag, in case it gets lost.

Google translate app is you best friend. You can take a picture of anything and it will translate it for you, and if you’re having trouble communicating then you can talk or type into the app and it will translate to Japanese and vice versa. Its very fast and easy, and I used it at the angelic pretty store to ask where the changing room was. The employee spoke into the app and it translated for me, so the language barrier was nearly invisible.

Hotel water is mostly drinkable. Sometimes there is a sign, if theres only one sink. But if there is multiple sinks drink from the one that has the tea making supplies next to it. Thats the kitchen sink and potable.

Walk on the left side of the sidewalk and staircases. In Japan they drive on the left side of the road, and walk on the left side of the path as well.

Dont jaywalk. Ever. Only cross the street at marked crosswalks or pedestrian bridges.

If you’re having trouble finding your way, ask a bus driver. They know the city very well and speak English relatively fluently. Don’t stop random people to ask for directions, that’s weird and rude and they might not speak English.

If you have personal space issues, I would recommend getting a taxi or uber as opposed to riding train and busses. Depending on where youre going and the time of day, the latter can be packed like sardines. Taxi/uber are more expensive, but if this is a serious problem for you then definately make room in your budget for this.

Speaking of crowds, if you’re overwhelmed and need to get out of a crowd quickly shout “sumimasen” repeatedly while walking to your destination (I recommend a bathroom). That word means excuse me, and people will understand that you need to get somewhere quickly.

All Japanese coins are marked with the value except for the little bronze one with a hole in the center. Its worth 5 yen.

If you use a mobility aid, you might feel daunted by the amount of stairs everywhere. However, for every staircase there is an elevator, and sometimes an escalator as well. They are typically marked on the walls, but if you can’t find one ask someone who works at the place you’re at. Some crosswalks are the kind that go up and over traffic, but there is a traffic guard underneath who will stop cars and help you cross. I havent tried this for myself, but for my dad who had his hip replaced and has problems on stairs still.

When in doubt, find and information desk.

7-11 has the best atm machines. This might feel really weird, but 7-11 in Japan is much better then America. Its more like a tiny Wal-Mart.

Spaghetti in Japan doesn’t take like spaghetti. It tastes more like offbrand kraft macaroni and cheese with a slight hint of tomato. Its good, but not what spaghetti is expected to taste like.

French fries are often lightly or unsalted. You might want to ask for salt.

The trains are color coded. If you can’t find your line check on a map in the station what color it is and then follow that color.

If there is a raised step in a room, take off your shoes before going through. Slippers are often provided as well so you’re not barefoot or in your socks.

If you go to a cat cafe and talk about your own cat, you might be asked to show pictures to the staff.

Lots of shops have a ban on taking pictures. If you are unsure, ask an employee. “Camera ok?” Is understood and they will answer yes or no. If you can’t find anyone to ask, just don’t take the picture. Its not worth the risk of getting thrown out.

English swear words are common. So is sexual themes. I passed a condom vending machine walking down a main street. If this bothers you, try to ignore it. Honestly theres no avoiding it.

Most plaves have free wifi, but.renting a pocket Wi-Fi is cheap and then you always have a secure connection.

If you’re having trouble ordering food, a lot of places have the menu on the counter with pictures. Point at what you want. This isn’t rude like it would be in America.

Lots of restaurants have fake food in cases outside. I can nearly guarantee you that what you will be served looks exactly like the representation. I’m surprised every time, having grown up with the American standard of “it looks like its been sat on and ran through a washing machine”.

If a store has multiple levels, a good rule of thumb is to pay at each level.

Most stores have a sign that says “Japan tax free”. To get this, you have to show your passport when you check out. Keep your receipt because tsa might ask for it.

A lot of stores only allow tax free on purchases over 5400 yen, or about $54.

Japan tax is 8%

Wall outlets dont have the classic pig nose input. They only have the two vertical lines. Make sure your charger will work with them, or bring an adaptor.

A lot of places have usb chargers built into the wall next to the outlet.

When paying for something, put the money in the little tray on the counter. Never hand it directly to the employee. They might put you change in the same tray or hand it back to you on your receipt, it varies by shop.

100 yen is about equal to $1. It fluctuates but this is a good rule of thumb.

Dont litter. Its a huge fine and possible jail time. Hold on to your trash until you find a trash can. Most convenience stores and vending machines have one.

Thats all I can think of at the moment, feel free to send asks If you have questions. This is by no means a complete guide, just the ramblings of a very sleepy tourist.

[daishannigans]

What are all the moments we get with Eggsy and Tilde from the novelization?

I’m so glad you asked!

Eggsy thinks her accent is “adorable”

Tilde and Michelle get on so well -- like sickeningly well -- and Eggsy is so happy the “...two most important women in his life love each other...” (scratch that, he thinks -- it’s three, including ole Daisy) (I still can’t believe we, as a collective, managed to make Daisy a canon name?)

When they’re heading over to Brandon’s party, he sees her in the hoodie and pants and he just thinks that even when she’s dressed down, she still looks like royalty. (’He supposed she always would.’)

Tilde makes a comment about how beautiful the architecture is at his old estate and he’s a little taken aback because he ‘...doesn’t detect a hint of sarcasm in her voice...’ She’s so genuine! And wants to see the beauty in everything!

Their cover-story for how they met goes as follows: Tilde came into the Kingsman shop one day to find a new tailor for her father and Eggsy was the “...lucky bastard who got to help her...” Sparks flew, and they’ve been together ever since. What. A. Dream.

Eggsy constantly worries (in his head) that he’s not good enough to be with her, especially long-term. He’s like, how can a guy who grew up on a London council estate ever be good enough for a princess?

Eggsy is so stressed the morning of meeting her parents. They’re waiting outside by a cab and Brandon rolls up late and Eggsy’s snapping at him a little bit from the stress and Tilde shoots him looks like, “We’re so thankful you could dog-sit JB, Brandon. Aren’t we, Eggsy?” And Eggsy just murmurs, “Yeah, thanks,” before handing over the keys to his flat.

Eggsy actually didn’t pick the orange dinner jacket! Tilde did! He does love the jacket but he’s self-conscious in it because he doesn’t know if it’s appropriate or not but she tells him how handsome he looks in it and he immediately -- immediately -- starts feeling better about it.

Eggsy’s in such awe when he enters the palace for the first time. He murmurs, “Fuck me,” and she leans in and whispers, “I will. Later. Maybe in the throne room.” And they both giggle. (She’s a freak! Love her!)

When the attacks begin to happen, Eggsy darts out of the dining room, desperately trying to get someone on the comms. She follows, trying to catch up with him as he stumbles through the halls. Then, he turns around, stumbling over his words and not being too coherent -- “Stay here, I have to go. It’s safe here.” She wraps her arms around him, and at first he tries to move away -- he has to go -- but then he melts into it, accepting this one comfort. Softly, she tells him to do what he has to.

(Later, we find out that she told her parents the reason he freaked out was because some of his friends were caught in the “London Bombings” -- and assures him later that, despite that, her parents loved him.)

Remember when Eggsy tells Whiskey he got his Glasto tickets from his contact? His contact is literally Tilde. He told Whiskey to stay out in the car while he got the tickets -- he literally made Jack wait outside while he had a rigorous Welcome Home shag with Tilde. #Goals.

They’re having a “...post-coital cuddle...” and Tilde is tracing patterns into his chest and Eggsy tells her, in Swedish, that he loves her and Tilde smiles and kisses him and sighs, “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

She asks him if, after he’s done with everything, he wants to go house-hunting with her. And he thinks about how much it’ll hurt now Harry’s flat is gone, but decides it’ll be really good for them to have their own place.

Tilde, mischievously: “Do you want your present now?” / Eggsy: “I thought getting to see you was my present. There ain’t nothing I want more.” She then hops out of bed and gets the puppy from the bathroom.

Eggsy leaves the hotel, returning to Whiskey. Immediately, Whiskey says, “Do you always sleep with your contacts?” Nodding down to Eggsy’s shirt, “Your shirt was tucked in when you went in.”

Before they leave, they hear tapping from above. Looking up, there’s Tilde, in a bathrobe and the puppy in her arms. She smiles, broadly, and waves down at the boys. She’s so fucking cute - GOD.

(Bless her, she accidentally got them the wrong Glasto tickets.)

When Eggsy rings her up, he’s dreading it. He doesn’t want to tell her about the Clara stuff. He’d rather ask her how her day’s been, if she’s eaten. If she has, what did she have? Was it any good, babe?

Tilde, upon hearing Eggsy has to sleep with someone, immediately thinks it’s Whiskey. “Who?” She asks, “The old guy with you?”

Tilde: “Is she pretty?” / Eggsy: “Nowhere near as pretty as you.”

She asks for a photo of this girl he has to sleep with, and he actually sends her a really pretty photo of her and of course she’s not gonna be happy about it, dude! Oh, my God.

The thing that gets me the most is that when Eggsy sees Clara undress, he thinks about how the old Eggsy -- the Eggsy before he met Tilde -- would’ve already been shucking off his clothes and pulling Clara onto the bed but he can’t now. He only ‘...finds her attractive in the abstract...’ ‘...Nothing stirred in him.’

I really love her POV chapter, during the part where she’s sprawled out in bed, miserable, smoking a fat-ass joint (same, sister). She’s not even that upset that he has to sleep with someone else. It’s the fact she thought he wanted to be with her, have a future with her.Their relationship felt so good, and worked for as long as it did, because they were able to overlook each other’s upbringings, the labels -- these things that they can’t help -- and love each other anyway; share a life, in spite of all those things that would otherwise drive people away. But they can’t. She’s a public princess and he’s a secret agent and it’ll compromise the both of them if they made a big, public lifetime commitment to one another, and she begins to wonder if he ever even meant it when he said he wanted to spend his life with her. Why say it if he knows they can’t be public? Why say it if it’s a danger with the job? Why even begin a relationship like theirs if it wasn’t going to work out?

On the plane coming back from Glasto. Eggsy is desperately texting Tilde, trying to get a response. She does, telling him to stop texting her. She needs time to think. Eggsy to Whiskey: “Is the wifi working in here?” / Whiskey, casually playing pool as Eggsy’s life falls apart: “Yup. It’s your relationship that ain’t working.” / Eggsy: “She’s never ignored my texts before.” / Whiskey: “You never told her you didn’t have a future before.” (Sorry, divergent. But this is a really, really good scene that was cut and is supposed to parallel the martini scene with Harry and Eggsy. Here, Whiskey basically tells Eggsy that he should forget about Tilde. He’s a spy! They get to travel the world, fuck and chuck. They shouldn’t worry themselves with attachments. Whiskey: “Your friend Harry probably would’ve told you the same,” and Eggsy supposes he’s right about that. But then, of course, later on in the movie, Harry tells him the opposite. Which is probably why Eggsy looks so taken aback when Harry tells him that no, love as much as you can. Love is what makes life worth living.)

Eggsy sits at the bar, miserable, and checks his voicemail, just to see if Tilde called him and he missed it. She hadn’t. That No New Messages voice makes him feel cold. He stares at the photo of them with JB, which is his wallpaper, and is just absolutely wrecked. (TW: Suicide idealisation.) With losing Tilde, and everyone else, he leaves the bar and wishes some drunk sod would run him over so all this could be over. He wonders what’s the point of going on if he, a spy, can’t protect everyone and everything he loves? What’s the point when it’s all taken away from you? Jesus Christ, this book gets fucking dark sometimes.

Moving forward. Eggsy gets a text from Tilde:    HAPPY CLOUD HAT. FROG BUNS! GOT SOME NICE    WATERED-DOWN DRINKS FROM AMAZON? ;) She immediately rings him. He picks up, “Tilde?” But she doesn’t know who he is. Tilde: “Who is this?” / Eggsy: “What? You called me?” She hangs up. He calls her again, this time on FaceTime, and sees her face covered in the rash, like the movie. He freaks out, she’s talking a load of hysterical rubbish. Then, she freezes. Her father steps into shot, snatching the phone from her hands. “She’s in the third stage. Maybe if you hadn’t had broken her heart--” and then throws the phone onto the bed. All Eggsy can see is her in the distance, limbs bent at an awkward angle, her eyes glazed over but looking terrified (You’re conscious the whole time you’re stuck. The moment stage-three happens, the mania wears off.) Their new puppy skitters around on the bed, just as terrified. And Eggsy can’t do a thing about it.

Later, her parents have a room full of doctors surrounding her, trying to figure out how to help her. But they’re useless. Tilde, conscious, sees the puppy, scared, and wants to comfort him. She thinks of Eggsy, and wishes she could kick everyone out of her apartment and have him there instead. She wants to take him in her arms, she wants to touch him, hold his face. She wants to hear his voice, wants to tell him how much she loves him, how much she misses him. She wants to fix things.

They give her a cure. Then, as if on cue, her phone rings. Her father grabs it, and Tilde can see from afar that it’s Eggsy calling. She runs -- sprints -- to the phone and snatches it out of his hand to take the call. For a woman who was just paralysed, they all think, she sure can move.

Oh, Eggsy thinks she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in his life when he sees her walking down the aisle. He thinks that, from now on, beauty is gonna be measured and compared to this, to her in that dress. His eyes brim with tears, his heart feels full. Daisy follows closely behind her and Tilde’s father, in this adorable little dress (she’s a bridesmaid!), with Tilde’s ring clutched in her little, toddler hand, and with “...a grin a mile-wide.” She’s so happy for her big brother!

The priest begins to do the ritual and Eggsy is so busy looking at her that he can’t hear a single thing the priest is saying. The both of them smile at each other, bursting with pride and happiness and love.

Daisy has Tilde’s ring, and Harry has Eggsy’s. Should I add that the dogs are at the wedding too? Harry names his Yorkie, Hamish, after Merlin. And Eggsy names his new pug after JB (JB2)

A little extra. The wedding hall is divided. One side is Tilde’s relatives, and the other is Eggsy’s. Tilde’s side is very reserved, very regal, whereas Eggsy’s are a lot more boisterous and energetic. Champ begins to heckle Tilde’s side as the pair kiss. Champ: “Hey! Lighten up, guys! This ain’t a goddamn funeral! Champagne’s on me!” Then: “Hit it, Elton!” And Elton breaks out into song: “Kiss the Bride”.(It doesn’t take long for the Bop to liven up Tilde’s side of the church)TBH... wedding of the year.