#anyone from a small town in the south? can you validate this?

[clockworkreapers]

so we all know the main characters of course... but these two I really like in the books- for very different reasons

[qnewsau]

Gary Lonesborough: Taking the Boy out of Bega

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/gary-lonesborough-taking-the-boy-out-of-bega/

Gary Lonesborough: Taking the Boy out of Bega

QNews spoke to award winning young adult fiction author Gary Lonesborough about his new book I’m Not Really Here.

Gary Lonesborough says his book I’m Not Really Here is the most autobiographical that he’s produced so far and is heavily drawn from his experience as a queer indigenous kid growing up in country South-East NSW.

It’s the story of Jonah, a gay 17-year-old who has moved with his widower father to a new town, but one where his family has roots.

Jonah finds a crush at his new high school and joins the football team to spend more time with him.

He had a crush on a friend at his old school who turned out to be straight but maybe things will be different this time?

“Jonah is the closest to myself as a character that I’ve written to date,” Lonesborough tells QNews.

“He’s someone who is dealing with grief, but also dealing with body issues, which I definitely had as a teenage boy growing up in a small country town. There are so many aspects of Jonah that are just me in different forms.

“I drew on the loss of my own mother in the grief aspect of the story. I was also a rugby league player and I was still closeted during that time but I drew a lot from those experiences of playing football and being in those masculine sports environments.

The town that Jonah moves to where he meets his crush is called Patience in the book but that was also largely based on the town of Bega where the author grew up.

“The story was originally going to be set in Bega,” Lonesborough says.

“With all of my novels, they start in a real place but then the place morphs because I like to play around with the geography to mould it to what the story needs.”

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While the book is being promoted in the young adult fiction category by publishers Allen & Unwin he hopes it will be enjoyed by readers of all ages.

“I’ve actually had more feedback about the book from adult readers than from teens so I think it’s definitely accessible for older readers,” he says.

“As a writer I’m just writing the stories that I wish that I had had when I was a teenager and I think there is a validation as an adult to read these stories that you wished you’d had so it speaks to your own teenage experience. With all of my writing I want it to be able to be read by anyone.”

The spectre of cyberbullying hangs over the characters in the book.

“I was really interested in exploring how social media and cyberbullying would affect the teens in the book, particularly Jonah,” he says.

“There was a gossip page similar to the one in the book that was run by an unknown person at my high school so that was inspired by that experience of having this person posting rumours about people at the school.”

The federal government is planning to ban teens from social media in the near future.

Lonesborough has mixed feelings about that.

“I can see the pros and cons of that,” he says, “I was a very shy kid and for me it was a really helpful tool in finding my own voice.

“It can also be a way of connecting people who are like you and accessing information that is important for you. But at the same time, teens have access to so much content and a lot of it is really bad for growing minds.”

-I’m Not Really Here is published by Allen & Unwin Book Publishers.

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[ao3bronte]

when chaos reigns [the sirens come to play]

A Merman AU. (Rated T with some suggestive language.) Now on AO3!

[Prologue]

Covid-19 and covert relationships don’t exactly go hand-in-hand these days, but you really shouldn’t be touching anyone’s hands right now anyway.

…that is, unless you don’t belong to the same species.

Can Merpeople catch Covid-19? That’s debatable, but news doesn’t exactly flow freely from the depths of the South China Sea. Though we know very little about Merpeople and their ways of life, we do know that they rarely interact with humans, preferring to tear down their ships and rip apart their dams and levies in revenge for poisoning the oceans and seas with their human fossil fuels. 

But this isn’t a story about environmental politics, or Covid-19 for that matter. This is a story about love and about putting aside differences. In this tale, Marinette discovers that the term ‘scalie’ (ou écailleux, car nous sommes en France) doesn’t always refer to the commonly known adjective to describe fish skin. And Adrien, bless his heart, really does need to put on clothes when he’s not rocking a fish tail despite the fact that he’d much rather be naked (much to Marinette’s mortification). Anyway you slice it, Merpeople and humans simply aren’t supposed to be together — they’ve always been sworn enemies through and through — but no matter what alternate universe we find ourselves in, these two idiots in love will always find each other.

This is, undoubtedly, their story.

[Part 1]

It’s the beginning of March and Tom and Sabine aren’t taking any chances with this whole virus situation. Marinette seems to catch everything — illnesses, hands, the whole nine yards — and they’d already been talking about sending her down to the Cote d’Azur to spend the summer with her grandmother Gina Dupain in order to get away from Paris for a little while. The constant schoolyard bullying from Chloé Bourgeois has dragged Marinette down so many pegs that Sabine is almost relieved to see Macron call off school for the foreseeable future and books both her daughter and her husband a trip to Marseille before the entire country shuts down for good.

Marinette isn’t happy, of course, but what teen would be? Her friends are in Paris! The fashion is in Paris! She doesn’t want to stay in some sleepy little Mediterranean village where nothing ever happens! Do they even have Wi-Fi there?

It’s a valid question. Tom doesn’t actually know, but he chatters enough for the two of them as the high speed train takes them down the rails to the south of France. Marinette’s sulk lightens a little as he pulls pastry after pastry out of his luggage in the hopes of making his daughter smile just a little before dropping her off with his mother — he knows that their relationship is a little strange after Gina’s last visit to Paris but there’s nothing a little quality time together can’t fix. 

Petite Befana is one of those places you find on a postcard. Situated just on the edge of France and Italy, the fishing village’s brightly coloured houses gleam in the sunlight, peppered with lemon trees and winding alleys that seem to almost spill out into the sea. The beaches are craggy and feature small grottos and coves of underground caves that glimmer with seaglass when the sun hits them just right, hiding a pocket sized oasis here and there for the adventurous who like to explore at low tide. Gina likes it here because of the Place du Marché, but Tom often wonders as to the real reason why she’s settled in the quaint harbour after years of Eat, Pray, Loving around the entire planet after divorcing his father.

She’s certainly made friends with every woman in town by the looks of it. Along with her veritable swarm of bar-hopping friends, Tom keeps seeing a woman with pointed features and deep black hair with a violent red streak in it pop up on her Facebook page. They always seem to be in the same jazz club, not that Tom is really paying attention; if his mother wants to spend her golden years drinking negronis and dancing with her girlfriends, that’s up to her.

They disembark the train in Marseilles and take a bus to Toulon, then another bus to Petite Befana. Marinette is passed out and drooling on his shoulder by the end of it so Tom does as he always does and hauls her up like a sack of flour through the thick and winding labyrinths of cobblestone streets towards his mother’s apartment. Gina greets them once he eventually finds the place and, after tucking Marinette into the daybed in the guest bedroom, happily guzzles down the proffered beer on the terrasse overlooking the sea.

“I’ll try to come down as often as I can,” Tom assures Gina, not knowing just how bad of a clusterfuck 2020 was about to become. “I’m sure Marinette will come to appreciate all that Petite Befana has to offer.”

“I’ll take her down to the market tomorrow morning,” Gina assures him, patting her son’s beefy forearms. “There’s an older woman who sells the most beautiful fabrics and I already dusted off my old sewing machine. That should keep her busy.”

“Marinette’s never happier when there’s a project to complete,” Tom responds with relief, downing the rest of his Kronenbourg. “I bet she’ll have an entire closet full of clothes by the time the month is out.”

“And it should only take a month or two for this to blow over.” Gina jabs her thumb towards the television as the news of Covid-19 murmurs in the background amid the waves of the Med on the shore. “And then we’ll be back to normal before you know it!”

(...and we all know how that turned out.)

[Part 2]

Covid-19 affects a lot of people in a lot of different ways. Some feel stir crazy. Others enjoy the alone time. But Marinette? Well, she’s been trapped in the harbours of Petit Befana for three weeks now and our aforementioned heroine is already bored out of her skull. She’s made three dresses, four satchels and twenty two scrunchies with the leftover fabric because what else is there to do down here? Luckily, Covid-19 hasn’t quite affected Petite Befana like it has the other regions of France and Marinette is able to go outside at least...not that she wants to. 

There are more artisanal bakeries and charcuterie shops in Petite Befana than there are nightclubs and high end boutiques, which is odd for a village so beautifully situated on the coast of southeast France. Gina proudly boasts that her new home is often bypassed by the glitz and glam of Monaco; lavish superyachts and the seemingly endless stream of paparazzi prefer the glamour and uberwealth just west of their little village, leaving its sleepy inhabitants mostly alone to sell their goods to the tourists that stop by for a night on their bicycles and scooters. Marked with the Italian influences of its neighbour, Petit Befana truly is the little-known last stop on the famous Cote d’Azur which makes it an inspiring landscape for Marinette to discover…

...for all of four days. 

She’s already so over Covid-19 and, like any teenager, she’s getting more and more annoyed by the day that she can’t hang out with her friends! Why did Maman and Papa send her down here?! All she wants to do is get back to Paris and design! It’s not like there’s anything fun to do here anyway, besides play video games all day in her bedroom; the only places that offer free WiFi are closed and she can only play Animal Crossing for so long before her grandmother insists on making her get some fresh air. 

Ugh! 

Grumbling under her breath, Marinette pulls on her raincoat and stomps down the laneway from the terrasse towards the sidestreet where her grandmother’s 1920’s bastide-style home resides. From the cobbled alley, Marinette watches the colourful array of fishing boats land their day’s catch right up on the harbourfront and heads down despite the storm clouds brewing on the horizon.

“Bonjour!” A group of older men wave as she makes her way down the ancient steps, the pathway shaded by thick palms and cacti. She pauses just long enough to ask who’s winning their game of socially distanced pétanque before continuing her way through the pines towards the gravel and sand beaches that line the shore. 

The seafront is mostly boarded up, much to both Gina’s and Marinette’s disdain. Her grandmother used to spend most of her evenings at the jazz bar La Sirena with her friends, not that Marinette got to meet any of them. The lockdown shuttered pretty much everything the day after she kissed Papa goodbye and settled into her new life for the next month, but with three weeks already stretching into four, Marinette dejectedly wonders if she’ll ever see Paris again.

Passing the last brasserie on the boardwalk, Marinette leaves civilization for the long stretches of barren coastline. There’s all sorts of little inlets and grottos here and there, especially as she gets closer and closer to the Italian border. Unfortunately, it’s only April, which means it’s rainy, generally unpleasant and completely and utterly empty on the beach.

“No one to talk to, nothing to do…” Marinette sighs and tries to kick a piece of driftwood, only to miss it with her foot in true Marinette style. The faux pas — quite literally — sends her screaming and flailing her arms like an octopus on a ceiling fan as she dramatically plummets face first onto the wet, slimy gravel.

She groans and pushes herself up on her hands and knees, wincing as sea-weathered stones dig into her palms and kneecaps. Marinette is, above all, a walking disaster in every sense of the word — sometimes she wonders if the powers that be seek out to deliberately punish her with embarrassing things like this on purpose for their own amusement. 

(ಸ_ಸ … *cough* Zag *cough*)

Marinette whimpers as she wipes chunks of seaweed and brownish foam off her cheeks and chin. At least no one was around to see her fall over — thank god — but she’ll still have to do the laundry when she gets home. She’s covered in muck and little bits of oily slime that are sure to stain if she doesn’t wash it out soon. Marinette grimaces as she tries to shake it off of her hands; humans really have done a number on the seas and oceans...like, why is her front so sticky? She glances at some of the garbage on the shore as she sits on her haunches and wonders if the news has it all wrong. Maybe the merpeople taking potshots at rich people on yachts with old cans and plastic sea trash really do have the moral upper hand…

Marinette, being Marinette, would have continued to stare dazed and confused into space well into the afternoon had it not been for the impossibly shiny something or other sparkling in the grotto straight ahead.

[NEXT PART...]

[petersasteria]

168 Hours - Haz Osterfield (9)

Pairing: Haz x Reader

Haz Osterfield Masterlist ||  Ultimate Masterlist || 168 Hours Masterlist

DISCLAIMER:  *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In which your son’s wish comes true and it turns horrible. Now, he has to fix it in 168 hours.

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 closes the door and turns around to see Y/N and Harley on the floor on the living room with papers scattered everywhere. He smiles to himself while staring at them. Harrison starts to feel this weird feeling like they look like a family somehow. Harrison shakes the thought out of his head and walks towards them and joins them on the floor.

"So, what's all this?" He asks. He didn't understand them all, but if there's one thing he's sure about, it's all for the wedding. It kind of broke his heart because he's grown to like her since that day in the bookstore. He grabs one of the wedding magazines and flips through it.

"It's for the wedding. You said you'd help so yeah. I need help for the wedding dress." Y/N sighs in frustration. Harrison looks at her and furrows his eyebrows, "Why?"

Y/N looks at him and chuckles, "Because I'm getting married...? It's logical for a bride to wear a wedding dress at her wedding."

"Yeah, I know that." Harrison blushes. "But why do you need help with it?"

Y/N shrugs, "For opinions, I guess."

Harrison nods, "Okay but in my opinion, you shouldn't ask anyone about it. If you feel like a princess in the dress that you pick and if you really like it, anyone else's opinion isn't valid anymore. It's your wedding. Don't let anyone else decide for you or you won't be happy with it."

Y/N blushes and nods, "You know what? You're right. I'll follow what I want. Tom would want that." Harrison's heart drops at the mention of Tom but he didn't let it show.

Harley hears this but he pretends he doesn't. He doesn't want to ruin the moment between his parents despite them not knowing. Instead, he busies himself in flipping through the papers Y/N laid out that showed dresses for the bridesmaids, colors, centerpieces, and other stuff that are sketched.

"What else do you need?" Harley asks. Y/N hums and looks at her list, "Aside from the wedding dress, the centerpieces, I guess. I want it simple but elegant."

Harrison and Harley nods and begin to look through everything. Y/N helps too. They end up with top three centerpieces. Y/N loves all of them but she knows she should only pick one. "This is so difficult." Y/N sighs in frustration. "Let's take a break. Enough wedding planning."

"Are you sure? You only have four days left." Harley says. Y/N looks at him and ruffles up his hair and says, "I'm sure."

The three of them clean up in the living room and sit on the couch. They sit together in comfortable in silence when Harrison breaks it, "Harley can sing."

"Really? Let's hear it Harley!" Y/N says excitedly as he looks at the young boy.

"I don't have my guitar with me, though." Harley says shyly.

"You can do it in acapella." Harrison says. "I know you can. It's just me and Y/N here. Don't be scared." He reassures with a smile. Harley sighs and stands up from the couch and stands in front of them.

"Yay, Harley!!" Y/N cheers and claps.

Harley clears his throat and starts, "Just a small town girl. Livin' in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere."

Harley stops and says, "I'm sorry. I'm just really shy."

"But why? You weren't shy the other day when you say in front of people." Harrison frowns.

"My guitar gives me confidence." Harley confesses. "I'm sorry."

"Just a city boy. Born and raised in South Detroit. He took the midnight train going anywhere." Y/N sings with a smile.

"I didn't know you could sing!" Harley chuckles and looks at her in awe. Harrison looks at her in awe too.

"Aww, thanks. There's a lot of things you don't know about me." Y/N giggles and looks at Harrison. "Continue it. It's acapella night!"

Harrison chuckles, "Don't tell me I sound terrible, okay?"

"Okay. Now, sing!"

"A singer in a smokey room. The smell of wine and cheap perfume. For a smile they can share the night-" Harrison sings.

Y/N smiles and blends with him, "It goes on and on and on and on."

Harley grins at them and stands on the coffee table and points at them, "Strangers waiting up and down the boulevard. Their shadows searchin' in the night."

Harrison grabs the remote and sings, "Streetlight, people. Livin' just to find emotion." He points at Y/N.

Y/N snickers before continuing, "Hidin' somewhere in the night!"

"You nailed that high note!" Harley grins.

"Thanks!" Y/N giggles.

Harrison crouches down in front of Harley and says, "Hop on!" Harley immediately gets on his shoulders and continues the song, "Workin' hard to get my fill! Everybody wants a thrill! Payin' anything to roll the dice, just one more time."

"Some will win, some will lose." Harrison sings as he looks up at Harley.

"Some where born to sing the blues!" Y/N sings and takes the remote from Harrison. "Oh the movie never ends it goes on and on and on and on."

She starts running around the living room and Harrison chases her, "Hey, that's my makeshift mic! Give it back!"

Y/N runs fast and laughs, "Nope!"

"Get her!" Harley shouts and laughs and holds on to Harrison's hair.

"Careful with my hair, buddy. I don't want to be bald." Harrison jokes and runs around the living room to chase Y/N.

"Don't stop believin'. Hold on to that feelin'. Streetlight, people oh oh oh." Harley continues despite being in a fit of giggles.

"Don't stop believin'. Hold on to that feelin'." Harrison sings perfectly as Y/N stops to catch her breath.

"Streetlight, people, oh oh oh! Don't stop!" Y/N ends the song with a high note. Harley cheers and laughs, "We make a great group! I think we should make acapella night happen all the time. I can almost hear the music."

"Same here." Harrison chuckles and crouches down again so Harley could safely get down from his shoulders.

"You guys should sing some solos." Harley suggests. It's not just any suggestion, though. He has a plan. If he can get both Y/N and Harrison to sing individually, they'll fall in love. Besides, Harley thinks that Y/N and Harrison are slowly starting to have feelings for each other. And the best part? Harley doesn't doubt it one bit.

"I haven't done that in a while, to be honest." Y/N says.

"So does this mean you're not up for it?" Harrison smirks. Y/N looks at him and raises her eyebrow, "Who said I wasn't up for it? Of course I am! In fact, I already have a song."

"You go first, then." Harley giggles and sits on the couch. Harrison sits next to him and nods, "Go for it, Y/N."

"Fine." Y/N smirks. She looks around and sees a vase full of flowers. She immediately gets all of them and she grabs her suitcase and then she walks out the apartment. Harley and Harrison looks at each in confusion but they get surprised when Y/N suddenly opens the door, enters the apartment and sings, "Don't tell me not to live just sit and putter. Life's candy and the sun's a ball of butter. Don't bring around a cloud to rain on my parade!"

She closes the door and walks towards them, "Don't tell me not to fly, I simply got to. If someone takes a spill it's me," she points to herself using the flowers before pointing to Harrison and Harley, "And not you! Who told you you're allowed to rain on my parade?"

"I'll march my band out. I'll beat my drum and if I'm fanned out," Y/N lets go of her suitcase and sits down on the coffee table and looks at Harrison, "Your turn at bat, sir. At least I didn't fake it. Hat, sir. I guess I didn't make it."

Y/N looks at Harley and smiles, "But whether I'm the rose of sheer perfection," She walks towards Harley and boops his nose, "a freckle on the nose of life's complexion,"

She quickly turns to Harrison and cups his face and stares into his eyes, "The cinder or the shiny apple of its eye."

She pulls away and sits back down on the coffee table, "I gotta fly once, I gotta try once. Only can die once, right, sir? Ooh, life is juicy. Juicy and you see I gotta have my bite, sir. Get ready for me, love, 'cause I'm a comer."

She quickly stands up and stands on the coffee table, "I simply gotta march my heart's a drummer! Don't bring around a cloud to rain on my parade!"

She slowly gets down the coffee table, "I'm gonna live and live now. Get what I want I know how. One roll for the whole show BANG!"

She points at the doorbell, "One throw, that bell will go CLANG! Eye on the target and WHAM! One shot, one gun shot, and BAM!"

She looks at the two boys and smirks, "Hey, Mr. Arnstein. Here I am!"

"She's really good, don't you think?" Harley whispers in Harrison's ear. Harrison just nods, though. He's in too much awe listening and watching Y/N sing her heart out. Harley smiles to himself as he watches Y/N again. His plan was working!

"Get ready for me, love, 'cause I'm a comer! I simply gotta march my heart's a drummer! Nobody, no, nobody-" Y/N takes a deep breath for the climax of the song. "Is gonna rain on my parade!!"

Harley and Harrison cheer and clap for her and Y/N bows, "Thank you! Thank you!"

They all laugh. Harley points at her things, "Why did you need flowers and a suitcase?"

"Darling, they're my props! Barbra Streisand did it in 'Funny Girl' and it seemed appropriate." Y/N shrugs and chuckles. "Your turn, Harrison! I wanna see what you come up with."

"Mine doesn't involve flowers and a suitcase. Also, I'll only sing a short part." Harrison chuckles and stands up in front of them. Y/N puts the flowers back and settles her suitcase next to the couch before sitting next to Harley.

"You can start now, Harrison." Harley says with a smile. He forgot what it feels like to hang out with his parents. You know, just the three of them.

"Oh my god. I'm shy. I don't really sing for anyone." Harrison laughs nervously.

"Aww, c'mon. We literally sang together a while ago." Y/N says.

"Yeah but we were a group. I haven't sung on my own unless I'm in the shower, but I'll give it a shot!" Harrison smiles and clears his throat. "I can't fight this feeling any longer and yet I'm still afraid to let it flow. What started out as friendship has grown stronger, I only wish I had the strength to let it show."

Harley's no love expert, but based on the lyrics and how Harrison is looking at Y/N, Harley knows that the song is reflecting how Harrison currently feels. 'Geez, dad really falls in love fast.' Harley thinks to himself.

"And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight. You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night and I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might..." Harrison smiles.

"'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore. I've forgotten what I've started fighting for. Even if I have to crawl upon your floor, come crashing through your door. Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore ooooh." Harrison ends the song and smiles. Harley and Y/N cheer for him. Then Harley yawns.

"Ouch. Was I boring?" Harrison jokes.

Harley shakes his head, "'M just tired, I guess."

"Same here. It's not easy being a performer." Y/N flips her hair as they all laugh.

"Let's get ready for bed, then." Harrison smiles and carries Harley to the room with Y/N following behind them.

All of them take turns in the bathroom to get ready. After that, Harrison tucks Harley in and Y/N leaves him a glass of water on his bedside table. Harley notices this and smiles at the thought of his mom, Y/N.

"What're you smiling about?" Y/N smiles at him. Harley looks at her and shakes his head, "Nothing. I-It's just that my mum does the same thing. Sometimes, she'll leave a glass of milk. She said she does that in case I wake up in the middle of the night because of thirst."

"Really? I do the same thing!" Y/N grins. Harley chuckles and yawns. Y/N looks at Harrison and says, "Someone's sleepy."

"I know right." Harrison chuckles. He glances at Harley who's already asleep. He and Y/N looks at each and they get out of the room.

"So, how are you so good with kids?" Y/N asks Harrison on the way to the kitchen. She prepares a snack for both of them while Harrison prepares the beverages.

Harrison shrugs, "It's natural, I guess. You were great, by the way. Where'd you learn how to sing like that?"

"It's natural, I guess." Y/N smirks.

"What's your job again?" Harrison asks.

"I'm an interior designer." Y/N tells him and hands him a sandwich. "Thanks." Harrison mumbles.

"Why aren't you in theater? You belong there. I mean, based from what I've seen."

"I won't lie, I've thought about it, but I realized that I don't picture myself doing it for years you know? It's just not for everyone." Y/N smiles at him and he smiles back. Both of them subconsciously lean in but they immediately pull back.

"Um, it's getting late." Y/N chuckles nervously.

"Y-Yeah, you're right." Harrison says. "Good night."

Y/N nods and says, "Good night."

-

"Amadis, your watch has been blinking like crazy!" Saint Christopher says as he eats his sandwich.

"Check it." Saint Thomas Aquinas encourages. Amadis sighs and checks his watch and smiles at everything he's reading.

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐘/𝐍 𝐘/𝐋/𝐍 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐘/𝐍 𝐘/𝐋/𝐍 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬.

Whatever Harley's doing back in London, it seems to be working and Amadis is absolutely living for it.

* * * *

-not proofread- im sorry sksks but i love this chapter tho

𝐇𝐀𝐙 𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland @silencetheslaves @imeanlifesabitshit @joyleenl @hjoficrecs @myblueleatherbag @poguesholland @harryismysunflower @justanothermarvelmaniac @lonikje @lizzyosterfield @itstaskeen @ilarbu​

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell​ @justasmisunderstoodasloki​ @rubberducky-jrr​ @petersholland​ @osterfieldnholland​ @miraclesoflove​ @god-knows-what-am-i-doing​ @perspectiveparker​ @hollands-weasley​ @itstaskeen​ @call-me-baby-gir1​ @the-panwitch​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @chloecreatesfictions​ @holland-styles​ @halfblood-princess-505-deactiva​ @spidey-reids-2003​ @herbatkazmiloscia

[crowleyellestair]

Hello! * waves hand excitingly like a five years old* Could You please write somethig for Eskel? I love him so much and there are just a few drabbles about him. I was thinking something fluffly? Like he's courting reader (or something like the blurb you wrote)? He's such soft boi

 Sorry for the tardiness, but I’m officially done with the college semester, and can finally get to writing!

AN// He is a soft boi. Bashful boy, I call him. Much longer than I intended, but I hope you like it!!

 Aedd Gynvael was out of the way for any witcher, unless one was coming back to Kaer Morhen from the Dragon Mountains. There was really no reason Eskel had made his way up to the place the first time round. He hadn’t had any food for the trail, but he was also a week early, and could easily hunt. Maybe it was his distinct need for people. Despite being a witcher, he still enjoyed company. He loved his pack, but Lambert wasn’t the freshest flower to take all contact from. Gynvael wasn’t exactly the best place for large numbers, and proved perfect for small interactions. Maybe he had made his way up for one final contract. Usually, Eskel reveled in the relaxation and laidback training, but he felt something under his skin, aching to expel energy.

Maybe it was fate.

That’s what Dandelion had believed, at least. Eskel didn’t know how he found himself asking the bard for help either, but mindlessly walking to Gynvael had worked out so perfectly- the very thing that led him here now. Y/n was a bookshop owner that had moved there after her aunt passed. She had lived in the south, and had quite the enterprise, though she felt she had a duty to keep that store in her family. He hadn’t known there was a bookstore there, and it seemed quite old. Again, most witchers don’t happen upon Aedd Gynvael, but Eskel had connections. Every bookstore knew of every other official store, yet he had never heard of this one. It was luck that only a month before he had visited, Y/n took over the shop.

It was even more luck he had come upon for her to be a gentle soul, happily inviting him in. Y/n had taken one look at him and pointed him to a few books he had loved, somehow reading him just as easily as the books that surrounded them. Y/n had actually found some titles he hadn’t heard of, and he left after a great discussion on the validity of new Elven poetry with a handful of new books.

It wasn’t until he had made it back to the fortress that he found a small book under the pile. A short Dwarven love novella. Now, Eskel loved books, and he didn’t discriminate on what he read. He does have preferences though, and a guilty pleasure of his were those small love stories that wives read once they finished with their sewing circles. There was a long contemplation on whether or not she was a mage or had some form of magic, but he remembered not feeling anything. So, once winter had passed, he decided to place the books on his personal shelves, and take some important texts back to her that she lacked in her personal selection.

A year had passed, and when he went back, he found the woman still in the little shop. A small bundle of books was wrapped for his reappearance, despite her admitting she wasn’t sure he’d ever visit again. Eskel had spent a week in town, arriving two weeks earlier, so he could have time to spare.

Eskel wasn’t one to rush into things, unless he was following his fellow wolf. But he trusted them to have at least some semblance of a plan. With Y/n, however, he was ready to rush into anything headfirst. There were too many kind smiles or polite offerings that he would be a fool to even think of passing her by. When he heard Dandelion was visiting for the winter, he hadn’t thought of the repercussions of courting the woman, he simply asked how he could.

So, there they sat, the grand hall empty despite the two at the table. The witcher had snuck away from scaffolding to try and get the bard alone. There were brown locks being tucked under a bonnet despite there not being a need for the feathered hat. Eskel had started to regret asking, as the younger man seemed too excited to help.

“I’m just saying that it might help if I saw the lady.”

“I don’t need an audience, bard. I simply need ideas for courting.” His hand brushed his cheek, and his eyes casted to the table. “I haven’t been near any court in a while, and I don’t know what is considered acceptable.”

“Aedd Gynvael hasn’t seen a proper court in a while either.” Golden eyes shot up to the poet, and he sighed apologetically. “What have you done so far? Where do you want this to go? A simple romp or something a little more permanent?” While the witcher had started this, he certainly wasn’t ready to finish it. He doesn’t want any of the brothers to walk in, but an excuse to get him out of the mess he has created would be welcome.

“Don’t know yet. I gave her some old tomes for her personal collection, and I hung around town to just…talk.” And they had. Eskel had walked her to and from everywhere she went, and they spoke of everything. He didn’t know what it was, but she was able to coax stories out of him like syrup over hot pastries. The man had unburdened himself of so much over the week that was soaked up by a caring ear. It was a blessing and a curse, as it meant that Y/n didn’t speak too much of herself, thoroughly making courting much harder. Eskel didn’t know her favorite flower or poem. He wasn’t even sure if she truly loved music- all things that normal courtship has and expresses love.

Love

Maybe too early to say such a word, but the excitement of him being able to have it in the future when he thought he could never be on the receiving end has set everything on a faster timetable. But he doesn’t want to cheap out on her- Y/n deserves proper courting. Proper courting for a proper lady. It was clear that she was more of a lady than any in high courts or any daughter of a noble. Hell, she could be more of a man than most, as well. But maybe he shouldn’t bring that up to her. She might laugh at the thought, but even the slimmest chance of offending puts that off the table.

“Eskel, my friend, out of everyone here, I expected you to be the romantic. Yet here you are, giving me nothing to work with.” Julian’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, though the pressure to add more pushed them from his mind out into the open.

“She’s manly.”

“What?” Shock and confusion painted his face, and Eskel felt like his face would melt by the embarrassment.

“I mean… Y/n has a way about her. She’s more noble than most knights I know. Her time in the south hadn’t treated her right, but despite that, it was her home. She only moved up here because her aunt wanted the store to stay in the family.” Dandelion nodded in understanding before his hand went to cup his own chin in thought.

“She’s a bookstore owner, lives on her own, has gone through hard times in the south…hm. Write her your own poetry.” Eskel practically choked on the inhale of breath at his advice.

“My own? I don’t think that’s wise.” The poet’s brow raised, not believing that his advice isn’t being taken. Eskel started to internally scold himself now that he needs to write poetry. He’s read thousands of poems, but that didn’t mean he was qualified to write his own.

“Eskel, I’m trying to help you start. I know it seems farfetched, but what do you have in mind? You need something for her to remember you by. If you’re traipsing in the south for two thirds of the year, she needs something powerful and from the heart.” The witcher’s shoulders sagged an inch, conceding to his fate.

“When you put it like that, bard, it makes sense.” The two men stare at each other for a couple of moments, Dandelion letting the older man work through his thoughts. Bashfully, the witcher’s hand found his cheek again, feeling the heat under even the scarred skin. “How do I… start?”

 Winter came and went for the shopkeeper. Gynvael didn’t have much foot traffic, but Y/n had started to incorporate a library system within the shop, allowing people to borrow for a smaller fee. The change of weather from the south to the north had been drastic, and the first winter had been dreadful. This winter, however, was made much warmer due to the heat in her chest. Eskel hadn’t visited after the first winter, only giving her the books once he made his way back before this one. The thought of him carrying important tomes for half a year just for her had a way of lighting her world. Being a business owner herself often scared away suitors despite their interests in her. Court life was also difficult. In the south, she was either made fun of for reading too much, or she wasn’t encouraged to express opinions created by these books, even if they were historically accurate. The north had been a nice change. And despite the weather and longing, Y/n wouldn’t change her station after the witcher tried to sneak into her store as to not be seen by the rest of the public.

The large man had seemed swept off his feet by her, and she couldn’t believe it. A small bookstore owner lifting him up just through books and being kind? It made her yearn to know what he had gone through. She had gotten some stories, but she knew she’d sit and wait her whole life if she had to, just to hear more about him.

When the bell went off in her shop, she now only wished it to be that man. Winter was officially over, but Y/n understood her location in relation to the rest of the continent. It would be out of his way to travel to her, then travel south, but when she didn’t hear footsteps after the bell, her heart soared. As she suspected, the large man stood in the lobby of the shop, arms tight to himself, and eyes casting everywhere on high alert.

“Did I miss the year, or are you really here after winter?” A large smile spread on her face upon seeing the man. She would never admit to anyone that her smile grew upon seeing his red face match the color of his gambeson. Though, she was sure that he could hear how fast her heart was.

“I wanted to see you.” It slipped past his lips without running through his filter, and his heart also sped. “I mean, I have something for you.” Eskel was fine and excited to start something, but he didn’t want to seem like he was dragging her along due to his speed. He wanted to be by her side every step of the way. The brown parcel in his hand was burning, and he regretted how fast he jabbed the wrapped item towards her. The witcher was mesmerized as her smile never faltered. Y/n’s fingertips brushed gently along the back of his fingers as she took hold of it, and Eskel did everything in his power not to flinch. When his hand was emptied, he did everything in his power not to reach out. The woman nodded towards the seat behind the counter, and pulled the small footstool out from between some shelves. Even after he insisted heavily during his last visit, she always made sure he sat in the chair, rather than the stool or standing.

She sat, carefully unfolding the brown wrappings, as if that too was apart of something precious. Eskel’s hands started to fidget in his lap. Y/n sat in front of him, looking like a black pearl on shore. The smile faded to a gentle grin, but the joy of his return was ever present. A light dress was all she wore, seemingly used to the colder weather, and now it being spring, trying to reason with mother nature to bring warmer tides simply through fashion. Her hair was down, caringly cupping her face as a mother did a babe. Gentle eyes tried to catch glimpses of him, seemingly not capable of holding resentment for him. The more he thought about everything that was perfect about her, he started to try and predict what her reaction might be. He was lucky enough to travel down the trail with Geralt and Dandelion, who reassured him every step of the way. Now, he can’t bare what his mind has conjured. He finally made his mind up, moving to leave when he heard a small gasp.

The small book had been hard to make, but he was pretty proud with how it turned out in the end. There had been a witcher, long passed, that had been a poet, who had kept a book in their library. Vesemir had given it to him, somehow finding out his plan. The cover and spine were nice, but the pages had been falling out. There weren’t any extra pages either, but Vesemir had paper pulping supplies the younger witcher used. After finishing the paper, he rearranged everything, attaching it to the spine and adding some ironwork detailing at the edges. The first half was poetry and musing of the other witcher about life and witchering, but the second half was all Eskel’s poetry of the woman now holding the book.

Y/n gently carded through the pages, stopping on the little note he wrote for her at the start of his section. It was simple and quick, but lifechanging for her.

Remember me. I’ll always come back.

The witcher could hear- almost feel, her heart pounding. The grin had spread like a wildfire and she bolted from her small stool into his standing form. The arms around his waist were crushing, but he quickly folded himself around her as well.

‘Would you mind reading some to me?” she asked. Of course, he had agreed, and she closed the shop despite it being morning. He was brought to her home above the shop, and was in the common room were there wasn’t a couch, but a cushion area by the window. She sat, back to chest as he read to her. They both had seemed to fall asleep, waking the next day. Eskel had to leave, but he gave her the address of the postal in the south that he would visit twice while away if she ever had the inclination to send something. She told him that she would probably start writing even minutes after he would leave, as she would already miss him. Before he left, he noticed a shelf completely empty besides a handful of books. He knew the tomes he gave her were in her room, but when asked, it was apparently for him.

“I order things from other places, or sometimes I leave for Oxenfort showings, and I grab things I think you’ll like. I already have a new parcel, if you want to take some for the road. If not, you always have a shelf here.” Eskel agreed, and promised to write to her. It was a month into traveling, and he had already lost his small comb on the bottom of his bag.

As he rummaged through, he found another small book that he didn’t remember putting in there. He pulled it out, recognizing the quickly scrawled authors name. The inside of the cover had a small, fine writing made out to him.

I know the author of that Dwarvish novela, and asked if he’d write a second part after you said you’d enjoyed the first. It’s your own personal copy, as he isn’t going to ever publish it. Enjoy.

There’s another note under it, somewhat smudged due to the ink not drying in the time she wrote it and closed the book.

There’s no way I could ever forget you. I’ll always be waiting

(Check out my other Eskel Blurb : Reading)

[raleighliving]

Raleigh Apartment Culture

So I'm of the mind that Raleigh is a great place to live. It has my favorite things, my favorite people, and I'm too broke to move anywhere else.

Raleigh works for me, but I recognize it doesn't work for everyone. Some people had less than ideal childhoods and wanna escape the state ASAP, some just want to live closer to their dream jobs or have new opportunities. That's all fine, but what if this describes where you are now?

What if, for the sake of argument, you're outside of NC and wanna move in? Moving is expensive, time-consuming, and risky at the best of times; so you wanna make sure that wherever you're landing is at least as good as where you started 90% of the time

"But RL," I hear you say, "you make Raleigh sound like an idyllic dreamscape populated with parks and a diverse kumbayah of peoples living in harmony"

I do talk about Raleigh in a positive light but, like a life saving medicine flavored like ass, sometimes you have to take the good with the bad.

So before you spend thousands of dollars on moving vans, boxes, and grits; here's a crash course on what it's like living in a Raleigh apartment, coming from someone whose majority of Raleigh Living (heh) has been in apartments.

First off, location. Any realtor will tell you that location is 80% of the sale to sound profound, and as anyone who has lived in the middle of ass-backward nowhere can tell you: It sucks having to drive 30 minutes to go anywhere.

Good news: With the Raleigh Beltline and connecting roads, there are very few places in Raleigh where your trip will last longer than thirty minutes one-way. Bad News: where you set down still matters because cutting down on travel is important for car and mental health.

North Raleigh is different from south Raleigh is different from northwest Raleigh, and the locals aren't the only difference you'll find between locations. Each segment of Raleigh has something to offer, with easier access to some attractions than others and neighboring cities for when you need something outside the RDU area.

Using downtown as the center of our wheel, people generally divide Raleigh into North and South Raleigh (with distinction given for NW, SE, NE, etc when needed). N.Raleigh is considered generally more upscale, a slice of suburban living interspersed with plenty of shopping centers for families and the moderately wealthy; but it's boring as all hell.

Want some fun? Excitement in the evenings and a more traditional urban experience with bars, night clubs, strip clubs, and more? South Raleigh is your best bet, at the cost of being the "sketchy" side of Raleigh. That kind of place where you'll see a bunch of auto shops that look abandoned but haven't been closed in the past 5 years and there's at least one customer from time to time.

Of course, this is a lot of generalizing but you'll find that it's still mostly accurate. The main exception in this is Capital Blvd, a highway cutting across north and south Raleigh on the eastern half of the city; a high crime corridor that's undergoing some changes in the northern half that have (somewhat) reduced crime but most people will still associate that area with the majority of Raleigh's crime and debauchery.

More importantly, is the distinction Raleigh citizens put on inside the beltline versus outside the beltline. The I-440 and 540 highways that wrap around Downtown form the mythical beltline, and to a degree what you have access to. Inside the beltline is the majority of workplaces, stores, and shopping centers; while outside you'll still have these things just to a more... dispersed extent.

North Raleigh actually kinda exemplifies this perfectly. Living inside the beltline, you have access to places like North Hills, Crabtree Valley mall, and Triangle Town Center. Live outside the beltline, like I currently am, and you're looking at 10 to 15 minutes to the nearest sheetz for that late night double hot dog fix.

So for point one: How important is it that you're near things? The majority of apartments and rental properties are in or around the belt-line, but if you want to save some cash on rent checks the cheaper properties are gonna extend your trips a bit.

Next, what can you expect in terms of neighbors? Does Raleigh have a hip party scene full of teens renting cheap apartments and blasting trap music at 3AM?

Depends on where you live

I swear not every point is going to be this, but there's an important distinction this time that affects the type of people your complex will likely have surrounding you; are you in North or South Raleigh?

North Raleigh has a ton of pre-schools, k-12 public schools (Leesville, Hillburn, Lead Mine, just to name a few), and office complexes that make up the job market. As a result the majority of apartment renters in north Raleigh tend to be families with a few small kids or so.

As a result, living off of Glenwood North and Edwards Mill I never had any noise problems from neighbors, the worst being kids playing outside at 3PM sounding like they were being murdered (which apparently is a common thing and I apologize to any neighbors I frightened with ghastly shrieks).

What I did have a problem with, however, was the typical Karen's you hear people complain about online. Renting a property now, we have access to our neighborhood's NextDoor page and it's hilarious sometimes to go on and read the comments, but living at a certain property we had a sort of mini-Facebook for residents

That thing was always full of either people who were moving out looking to sell their furniture or people passive-aggressively challenging each other/the apartment managers with comments about things happening around the complex.

Once I logged in to see one man accuse another, without ever actually accusing someone specific ("I know who did it and they should be ashamed" type post) of putting glass beer bottles under the tires of his truck to try and puncture them. Everyone acts civil in public, but then online they'll stir the pot harder than a chef with a hand mixer.

South Raleigh, you have the schools like Shaw University, Meredith, and NCSU; so the people renting down there are typically college kids. You'll see more apartments that cater towards them like University Village or University Woods, but sometimes these places will cater to both college kids and working adults

Avoid these places like the plague, because despite sometimes having a lower cost to live there the neighbors and their shenanigans will drive you up the wall (unless you're the type to join in, then go wild).

I've had friends stay at places like University Village and The Proper (formerly The Vie, formerly Wolf Creek) who've shared horror stories. 3AM parties ending in property damage or vomit in inconvenient places, drug deals not even trying to be subtle, and maintenance workers doing nothing because regardless of the apartment conditions; no school's gonna pull their contract with them unless news articles start getting written.

http://www.technicianonline.com/news/article_898ddf34-82f5-11e7-b3d8-07059d248619.html

https://www.wral.com/vie-at-raleigh-residents-finally-able-to-move-into-clean-units/16887833/

http://www.technicianonline.com/news/article_ea8ed7aa-a092-11e8-a2af-e70af36566d0.html

Otherwise, south Raleigh apartments are largely like north Raleigh apartments; except the crime rate tends to be a little higher and you'll run into more singles and people working full time.

Otherwise, Raleigh apartment culture is like apartment culture anywhere else in the country. You have a mix of apartments catering to those just looking to live versus more ostentatious luxury apartments with fancy pools, exercise facilities, and tech packages to draw people in.

If you're renting in Raleigh, however, do try to get a roommate or two if you can manage. Even with a decent job paying 800+ on a one bedroom one bath apartment can be exhausting at best, but with even one other person that can functionally halve your expenses

So if you're a young professional, or a student, or even if you have a small family, I can safely recommend renting in Raleigh. There's plenty of places that'll accommodate you, and cater towards your needs.

But what about everyone else? Are there people who shouldn't rent in Raleigh?

No

But there are groups who I'd seriously ask to consider their other choices before picking Raleigh as a destination for their new home.

For instance, are you a member of the LGBT community? A trans or non-binary individual? Well then, first off, I want you to know that you're loved and valid. I'm accepting of who you are and appreciate everyone's right to identify how they choose, but I'm not everyone.

Raleigh's bluer than other parts of North Carolina, as I've stated in other blog write-ups, but it's still part of North Carolina unfortunately and as a result, you'll face some challenges.

I doubt anyone's gonna burn a cross in your yard or knock over your mailbox, but Raleigh doesn't offer LGBT protections for housing, jobs, or credit/lending discriminations according to the Movement Advancement Project's website.

We have support organizations for LGBT and NB individuals, plenty of high schools and colleges have Gay-Straight Alliance clubs, and there are numerous businesses downtown that cater specifically to those individuals... but we're also the state that got into a lot of hot water because of a stupid bathroom bill, and our politicians are trying to pass anti-trans sports legislation (because they now magically care about the integrity of womens sports).

By that measure, but to a lesser extent, if you fall outside the Liberal/Conservative political spectrum then be prepared to have no one to discuss your politics with outside of a few sparse networks like the DSA.

Additionally, if you don't have someone to room with or a significant other to split costs with; you may want to try searching somewhere a little cheaper.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, Raleigh housing prices aren't terrible for a major metropolitan city, but we're not the best prices in the world.

You can get prices on apartments and rentals lower than say, California or New York. However, compared to other parts of NC like Greensboro or Garner; rentals are still a bit much.

On average, a Raleigh apartment can run you about $900 for a single bedroom and a single bathroom. You can find cheaper, but often times there's some risk associated (Crime levels, quality of the room, quality of the property manager, etc.) Looking for a two bedroom? Then your average price is gonna jump up to around $1,200, and this is all before utilities and cable come into play.

It's true a lot of companies around here will pay more than the $7.25 minimum wage, but most low-skilled jobs will pay around 10-11 an hour.

I guess though, that's kind of an obvious statement. "Don't live in Raleigh if you can't afford to live in Raleigh."

I might expand on these thoughts at a later time, but hopefully for now I've given you some food for thought; or at the very least an entertaining read for a few minutes.

I love my city, and I love the friends I've made in it, but the sad truth is that nowhere is perfect for everyone; leastways Raleigh. If Raleigh sounds like the kind of place you'd like to live in, at least take a day trip to come visit and see how things go that way. Visit some stores, meet some locals, and form an opinion off of more than travel blogs and youtube videos.

[maglab]

Bali Tour And Travel Information

Bali is only one of over 17,000 islands that make up the Republic of Indonesia and is definitely the most popular island destination for tourists. There is so much Bali travel information and advice available to help tourists, hopefully you will find all that you need to help you enjoy your stay in Bali as you read through this page and make your Bali experience as exciting and relaxing as possible.

Throughout the world, Bali is recognized as a fairy tale paradise island with sunny beaches, white sand, superb surfing, rural fishing villages, sculptured rice terraces and so much more. When you travel to Bali you are not only going to experience some of the most up market and luxurious hotels and villas available around the world, but in certain rural areas it will seem as though you are stepping back in time. Some of the Balinese people live the same way that they have done for centuries without changing with modern technology.

To most of the Balinese people religion is not only for Sundays but it is deeply ingrained and is a way of life. Hinduism is the main religion on the island and the beliefs and traditions have not been changed by the huge international tourist resorts, massive shopping malls and the many bars that are associated with many of the tourist resorts. Many of the smaller Balinese temples co-exist in between the Western influenced tourist areas. When travelling to Bali you will have to accept that sometimes the roads will be impassable due to religious ceremonies and instead of becoming impatient, enjoy the experience, after all there is nothing you can do to speed the process up. The streets are transformed into a maze of colours and costumes, with people dressed in beautiful traditional dresses and garments.Many things in Bali go a lot slower that in developed countries, so patience is one thing you will need to pack with you especially if you intend to do some  travelling around Bali’s rural areas.

The people of Bali are extremely friendly and always return a smile. The politeness and courtesy you receive in any of the service industries is supreme and renowned worldwide. The services are cheap and you will always feel happy to give a tip even in the expensive restaurants and hotels due to the exceptional service and friendly attitude that greats you.

Tourism is a big source of income for the Balinese and they literally bend over backwards in order to make your stay as comfortable and happy as possible. Lot of locals take the advantages of the tourism business and work as hotels or villas employ and some of them open Bali car rental with driver service. The local currency used in Bali and all over Indonesia is the Indonesian Rupiah IDR. XE is a live currency converter that is updated as exactly as the rates change on the world market. This is great not only for planning your holiday money, but also if you need to exchange money when in Bali, you can know in advance what the actual rate is before going to the foreign money exchangers.

Balinese Etiquette

When traveling to other countries it is always a sign of respect to try and learn some of the different customs of the people. Balinese people are very accommodating and will show their appreciation that you try to follow their customs even if you don’t get it right all the time.

The following matters of etiquette, should be observed especially when travelling around Bali’s rural areas and attending special occasions and festivals.

Always take off your shoes before entering a house even if you are told not to.

Patting anyone on the head is considered very rude.

If your baby is less than six months old, don’t let it touch the ground.

Don’t use your foot to point.

Don’t hang your shirt or any clothing on a temple wall.

Don’t walk under a washing line that has underwear hanging on it if is then above your head.

When hanging up laundry put your underwear on the lowest rung.

When at ceremonies, weddings etc, sit lower than honored guests, priests and sacred objects.

Don’t step in front of someone if you can’t avoid it, adopt a submissive posture and ask forgiveness.

Never step over a sacred object or offering, be careful of this as some masks at ceremonies can be sacred. When at special events and in doubt, just don’t do it.

You can sit on cushions, but not on a pillow.

Sleep with your head pointed towards the east or north, pointed to the mountains.

When visiting temples or less casual places, wear long pants or a sarong with a selendang (scarf like cloth) tied around the waist.

It may seem sexist to many women, but it is considered extremely taboo to enter a temple while menstruating.

Getting to Bali

By Air

The main international airport is Bali’s Ngurah Rai and is a gateway to many Indonesian countries. The main airline operating here is Garuda Indonesia as well as 12 other international airlines. Ngurah Rai is situated in the south area of the island and traveling to the majority of the popular resorts will not take more that 30 minutes. If you are staying in one of the northern resorts like Ubud expect a drive of over an hour.

Daily direct flights are available from Singapore on Garuda Indonesia, and Singapore Airlines.MAS and Garuda operate direct flights    from Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia), and from Hong Kong with Garuda and Cathay Pacific. Direct flights are also available from Bangkok with Thai International and Qantas. UTA flies direct from Paris, KLM fly from Amsterdam via Medan, Garuda fly from Japan and Taiwan and Garuda and Qantas fly from the Australian cities of Perth, Sydney, Melbourne, Cairns and Adelaide.

By Road or Rail from Java

Trains and buses from Java stop at Banyuwangi and a 24 hour ferry transports cars and passengers to Gilimanuk, where buses will take passengers to Denspasar.

By Sea

International cruise ships and yachts use the Bali seaports of Benoa and Padangbai. Padangbai is mostly used by the larger luxury cruise ships as Benoa is relatively small. From Lombok’s port of Lembar a ferry service is available twice daily to Padagbai and from Benoa harbor to Lembar you can catch a hydrofoil.

Bali is the departure point for cruises to Lombok, and the nearby island that people are beginning to discover are very remote an unspoiled by tourism. If you intend to visit here make sure that you consult your doctor as this is known as a high malaria area.

As with all countries, laws can change overnight and it is important to have the latest up to date information before travelling to a foreign country.

Bali Tourism Board (BTB)

BTB was established on the 1st of March 2000 formed by nine major Bali tourism associations. With the unstable business climate hamper the island, BTB is hoped to build and develop a better and more sustainable tourism industry in Bali. Considering the importance of the tourism industry and the capability of BTB in associating with government, community, and industry alike, the Governor of Bali officially recognized BTB on 10 May 2000 as the embodiment of a new partnership between the travel industry, the government, and the local community. Since then, BTB has earned the respect and support of all related government agencies, including the Indonesian Ministry of Culture and Tourism.

Visit Indonesia

Visit Indonesia is an up to date Indonesian website offering anything from entry advice, dos and don’ts to banking hours events and activities.

National Portal Republic of Indonesia

The official Indonesian government website, National Portal Republic of Indonesia is for all things Indonesian/Bali related not only for tourist information and is worth looking over before leaving for your trip to Bali. If you only want to read on tourist related news and advice visit their official tourism website.

Smart traveller

This is the Australian Government’s travel advisory and consular assistance service website. Even though this site is targeted to the Australian population the advice is valuable to everyone wishing to get up to date advice on everything when you want to travel to Bali.

The Laws of Indonesia and Bali

Every major town has a police station called Resort Polisi. The Traffic Police Office is located in Denpasar, but its office hours are only 8:00 am to 12:00 noon, Monday to Saturday.

All narcotics are illegal in all Indonesian countries and using, selling or buying any drugs can result in huge fines, prison or even the death penalty. If you are caught even your own government will be unlikely to help you, so stay clear of this type of recreation.

If you lose your passport, report it immediately to the local Police station and ask for a letter with the report details. Trying to get a replacement passport can be difficult if you don’t produce this letter.

You can drive if you have an international license or one issued in one of the ASEAN countries; Brunei ,Burma, Cambodia, Indonesia, Laos, Malaysia, Philippines, Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam. If you want to get a motor bike or car license your application is made through the Komdak Lalulintas in Jalan Seruni. A driving test is theoretically compulsory, however you will find people who will be able to fast track your application for you, obviously for a fee.

Entry and Exit Requirements

Visa and other entry and exit conditions (such as currency, customs and quarantine regulations) change regularly. Contact the nearest Embassy or Consulate of Indonesia for the most up-to-date information.

You should ensure you have the correct, current visa at all times, otherwise you may be fined, jailed, deported or banned from re-entering Indonesia for a period of time.

Your passport must be valid for a minimum of six months from your date of arrival. Visitors may be granted a seven day visa on arrival for a fee of USD10 or a 30 day visa on arrival for a fee of USD25. Both visas are non-extend-able and non-transferable. The period of stay for visas is calculated from the day of arrival. For example, if a tourist with a seven day visa arrived on a Sunday, they must depart Indonesia the following Saturday. If the tourist departed on the following Sunday, they would be considered to have overstayed their visa. This principle also applies to 30 day visas. Fines are imposed for each additional day in Indonesia.

If you are staying in private accommodation, you are required to register with the local Rukun Tertangga (RT) Office and the local police when you arrive. If you plan to be in Indonesia for more than 90 days, you must register with the local immigration office and hold the correct visa.

Make sure your passport has at least six months’ validity and carry copies of a recent passport photo with you in case you need a replacement passport while overseas.

Important Travel Precautions

When planning a trip to a tropical place like Bali, all types of thoughts will be conjured up in your head of the possible dangers that await you and how to deal with them. The major concerns that people face are the safety of the food and water, local violence crime rate, the transportation and any common or dangerous tropical diseases. Many expats live and travel around Bali on a daily basis without any problems, but as a first time visitor there are certain precautions that you can take to ensure a safe and enjoyable holiday.

Reduce health risks before traveling to Bali.

Before trips to Bali consult your doctor to find out what the current health situation is in the area you are going to stay in and find out if there are any vaccinations required before you leave. Bali is a tropical region and does have some nasty bugs floating or flying around so it is important to know exactly where you are going to be traveling to and let your doctor know. Once you have arrived in Bali it is important to stay in the areas that you have planned to as some of the islands have different health risks that you may not be aware or prepared for. For example Lombok is considered as a higher malaria risk area than the main island of Bali and if you have not been taking malaria tablets it is not advisable to go there.

The more common vaccinations that you would be given are polio, cholera, typhoid, hepatitis A & B and malaria or whatever is prevalent at that specific time. If Bali is a regular holiday place for your vacations, it is important to visit your doctor every time you plan on going as new diseases can spring up very quickly.

Bali Travel insurance.

Traveling is risky, especially when you are going a long distance to a foreign country. Insurance won’t take the risk factor out but will help you if you do end up needing medical attention due to an accident or some disease. For short holidays, insurance is not that expensive compared to the peace of mind that it offers and you can then get on with enjoying your holiday without worrying.

Drinking Water in Bali.

Tap water is unsafe to drink in Bali. Although the quality of water throughout the island varies greatly, some coming piped, some from a well, one should always assume it is unsafe to drink without boiling. People living in Bali shower with the local water, brushing teeth etc. with no ill effects, still your drinking water should be bottled water. No matter where you stay, the tap water is unsafe for drinking, some of the luxury hotels have signs on the basins advising that their water is safe, but it is not worth the risk to drink it. Bottled water is freely available and is cheap. Even when brushing your teeth use the bottled water. When staying in tourist areas, all food is prepared with bottled water, so you are safe to eat everything including the delicious salads. Ice from these establishments is also made from bottled water and is safe, but when traveling outside tourist resorts avoid the ice and only buy drinks that are in refrigerators, not in cooler boxes covered with water and ice. All fruit and vegetables can be eaten without any worries as long as you use bottled water if you are going to make some of your own meals.

Bali Belly is not ordinary Diarrhea.

Bali is renowned for an acute gastroenteritis infection that should not be mistaken for mere holiday runs. You will know if you have caught this as you will have both diarrhea and vomiting at the same time and will feel like hell. The best thing to do is seek medical advice from a local doctor who will prescribe the needed medication to get you back up on your feet usually within 24 hours. If you do not get treatment then this can last for weeks and spoil your holiday and worst case scenario you will end up in hospital.

Small cuts & scrapes.

Small cuts can develop into serious infections due to the hot humid conditions very quickly. Wash out any cuts you get with clean bottled water and apply some Betadine. Allow the cut to air dry rather than putting a plaster on as this will make it “sweat” and take longer to heal.

Carry a first aid kit.

Learn how to use a first aid kit and take your own one with you, trying to find one locally is very difficult and those that are available are very limited. Don’t pack it in your hand luggage as it may be confiscated due to the sharp instruments.

Traveling for Medical help.

If you are staying in a villa out of town it can be difficult to get transport when most needed. When you first arrive, get a few phone numbers of reliable taxi services that operate 24 hours and store them in your phone.

Emergency Numbers in Bali. Police : 110 Fire Dept.: 113 Ambulance : 118 Search & rescue: 111,115 or 151 Operated Assisted Calls Within Indonesia : 100 International : 101

Directory Information Bali : 147 Indonesia : 106 Postal & Parcel Services.

Major hotels handle mail service, telegrams and telexes. The Central Post Office is located in Denpasar. Central Post Office Jl. Raya Puputan, Renon, Denpasar 80235. Tel: 23565. Open from Monday to Thursday : 08.00 a.m. – 02.00 p.m. Friday: 08.00 a.m. – 12.00 noon. Saturday: 08.00 a.m. – 01.00 p.m.

Poste Restante Poste Restante is an inexpensive service for overseas visitors in Bali so they can receive letters or parcels from family or friends while traveling around Bali. The services are available at the Central Post Office and at the following post offices:

Sanur Post Office: Banjar Taman, Sanur, Denpasar 80277 Kuta Post Office: Jl. Raya Tuban, Kuta, Denpasar 80361 Ubud Post Office: Banjar Taman, Ubud, Gianyar 80571. Singaraja Post Office: Jl. Gajah Mada, Singaraja 81100.

[kld-rp]

hello dreamers!!  it’s time for another content preview - our aesthetic member groups and neighborhoods!!  don’t you worry, we’ll be dropping more previews soon!  stay tuned for our dev contest comin’ at you at 1pm est!!! check beneath the cut for both!!!  we can’t wait to share more with you cuties!! - kld staff xoxo

aesthetic membergroups and neighborhoods 🏜️🧡

(n) a wild dog that resembles the wolf, native to north america.

can dish it but can’t take it, rushes everything, anxious, plans their future but forgets to live in the moment, sometimes ignores their friends because they have so much on their mind, talks about themselves a lot and sometimes forgets to ask the other person how they are coyote - #f89880

(n) a nocturnal omnivorous mammal that has large claws for digging and a body covered in bony plates.

impatient, brash, commitment issues  doesn’t realize they don’t need to change for anyone, has a lot of different goals to a point where they get overwhelmed, just wants to disappear and do what they want without anyone questioning them armadillo - #ffc08a

(n) a heavy-bodied american pit viper with a series of horny rings on the tail that, when vibrated, produce a characteristic rattling sound as a warning.

never apologizes, in denial 90% of the time, their way is the highway, desperately needs a break, they have a hard time setting goals because their goals scare them, have absolutely chewed their nails to the nubs, 0 new notifications rattlesnake - #e3d771 

(n) a giant cactus whose branches are shaped like candelabra, native to mexico and the southwestern united states.

easily set off, will give anyone the cold shoulder at any time even without reason, keeps a lot in, so observant that they often times find out things that hurt them, too many “what ifs” swirling in their heads, has trouble showing their true selves saguaro - #bccd6a

(n) an evergreen shrub or small tree that bears berrylike cones.

empathetic often to a point of no return, plays the victim, doesn’t know when to say no, cynical, hermit, is very impatient, trusts everyone too much, can be secretly very critical and judgmental, can only tolerate maybe ten minutes of social interaction, needs a lot of validation juniper - #85cbb1

thumb butte, az neighborhoods 🏜️🧡

gas shoal ridge - $ - southwest boundary of town

to the southwest of downtown and the south of cunn trail, gas shoal ridge is one of thumb butte’s oldest neighborhoods, built up in the early days of settlement to make good on the promises thumb butte was meant to boast.  older, smaller homes and most of the town’s industrial services are located here, some stretching out before the town’s limits towards the williamson valley.  gas shoal ride also includes the sweet paradise trailer park and a very few larger, ranch homes settled into the valley instead of the more lush, shaded puck uplands.  residents here are hard to crack, live within their means, and have found a way to know everybody’s business.

cunn trail - $$ - west of downtown

if you follow cunn trail out of thumb butte’s downtown region, it winds through the neighborhood named after itself.  there’s not much by way of land, space between lots or anywhere for you to hide from your neighbors, but many people in town live along cunn trail for its convenience.  houses are older, nobody has ever heard of a homeowner’s association - we’re not saying anyone will tell you to clean your roof, but they’ll surely talk about it at mrs. greenleaf’s wednesday porch bitchin’ sessions.  something close enough to suburbia, enough happens on cunn’s trail to have you waving at your neighbors and locking your doors at the same time.

bull’s hitch - $$ - east of downtown

to the east of downtown is bull’s hitch, a large, wandering community of single-family homes and townhomes.  built up in the sixties and seventies, bull’s hitch still looks a little brady bunch, but without a fancy hgtv show to help fix them up, people are pretty content with the vintage style.  bull’s hitch is more family friendly, has too many kids playing outside too much of the damn time (if you ask old lady delmonte), and it’s close enough to the elementary school for parents to think they’re doing the right thing by their kids.  just don’t let them let out too much of the good air, those older homes don’t hang onto the a/c like they used to.

puck uplands - $$$ - northwest boundary of thumb butte

built in the shadows of the mountains and to the northwest of downtown, puck uplands has the fanciest name for a bunch of ranchers and farmers.  the lots here are larger, sure, but there’s no real sense of community here, except for the uplands kids who had to ride a forty-five minute bus to school together every day.  there’s good land here, though, the farther you go out, stuck between the mountains and watson lake, so people have been here for generations and taking advantage of it.  it’s not easy to buy into puck uplands, but every few years when a farm folds, you can bet there’s a few too many eager people at the auction.

butte head pass - $$$$ - base of thumb butte, northeast boundary of thumb butte

nestled in the foothills of the sierra prietas, butte head pass is a small, more exclusive community that leads to the head of thumb butte itself.  you’ll find people here claiming the hiking trails are theirs exclusively even though it’s absolutely not true, becky.  these homes are larger, have more space between them and have some of the best sunsets in arizona because they’re higher in the hills, but it all comes with a price tag and mr. gorecki absolutely snoops in people’s mailboxes on his morning walks.

[theantitote]

A Call to Action + A Few Resources for These Times of Unrest in the US

On the Recent Unrest and Our Worst Fears (Is a civil war brewing?)

These times are uncertain, dire even. A mismanaged pandemic has and will continue to claim many lives and ravage our economy, yet several Republican governors still stand poised to reopen schools in the fall, and economic woes potentially put millions at risk of falling victim to mass evictions. Police and government brutality has long plagued our nation with near impunity and in the wake of George Floyd’s death and the violent crackdowns on protests, we seem to be reaching a breaking point. Police have been seen on numerous occasions assaulting the media, and federal agents sent to Portland, Oregon have been responsible for among other things, shooting Donavan La Bella in the head with “less lethal” impact munitions, cracking his skull and nearly killing him, arresting protesters into unmarked rental vans, and striking a Navy vet with a baton after he attempted to confront them on their oath to the constitution, breaking his hand. Now as anger swells in the streets and fears rise of an apparently fledgling secret police force due to the actions of federal agents, recently threatened to be deployed to more cities as part of Trump’s Operation Legend, a question thought unthinkable just a few months ago seems to be becoming uncomfortably plausible - are we heading for a civil war?

Anyone with even the slightest bit of morality and an inkling as to what such an event would entail should be struck with terror at the mere thought of the possibility. So it is imperative in these times that we do our due diligence as citizens of this nation to learn from history and do everything in our power to deescalate such a situation before our worst fears are realized, all without loosing sight of the problems and what must be done to solve them. To this end I have compiled a fairly brief list of videos, podcasts, articles, and webpages that I recommend all Americans observe and heed the messages and warnings found therein.

Top Recommendations

Note: All podcasts link to Spotify pages however you should be able to find them elsewhere if needed, including most popular podcasting apps from my experience.

1) The Youtube channel Beau of the Fifth Column, and his recent covering of the events in Portland.

I link his playlist of videos covering Portland and how the federal response runs counter to the guidelines of their manuals because it’s most relevant however I can’t recommend his entire channel enough. For further reading, here are a few links related to what he discusses in those videos:

FM 3-24 - Insurgencies and Countering Insurgencies - FAS PDF link

Federation of American Scientists - their website hosts a sizable amount of information some of which is relevant, including the aforementioned pdf

The Rand Corporation’s website, which has more public documentation and who also plays a large role in the making of classified documents for policy makers on the subject.

The nonprofit archive.org free online library

2) It Could Happen Here - A podcast from 2019 by Robert Evans, who has a background in investigative journalism on the conflicts in Iraq and Syria and Ukraine among others, exploring the possibility of a Second American Civil War, what might cause it and how it could be prevented. Though he is rather open about his own leftist bias he does not shy away from addressing the valid grievances rural America might have with the government as well as areas where the true left of America and rural conservatives might share some surprising common ground.

3) Behind the Police - Another podcast and a recent spinoff of “Behind the Bastards” that covers the history of American policing and how it has led to the often corrupt institutions we have today. Also hosted by Robert Evans and joined by the hip-hop artist Jason Petty aka Propaganda.

A few reminders of recent state violence

Tweeted video of the moment Donavan La Bella was shot in the head by a US Marshal

Tweeted video of the immediate aftermath (CW: profuse bleeding)

An update on Donavan La Bella’s condition (CW: distressing images) - “His mother, Desiree La Bella, previously said her son’s face and skull were fractured and that he underwent facial reconstructive surgery in the hours after the encounter. She said he had a tube in his skull to drain blood and had vision problems in one eye.” - the good news is the article says he’s recovering better than doctors expected.

Tweeted video of Navy veteran Chris David being struck with a baton by federal officers, breaking his hand, dubbed by some as “Captain Portland” after the viral video showed him taking the blows unflinching

A Newsweek article with an interview with Chris David - "I want to use my 15 minutes to put out a message to my fellow vets. I also want to use my 15 minutes to try to refocus this whole discussion back to Black Lives Matter as opposed to an old white guy who got beat up because I don't think I'm worth the attention, to be perfectly frank" - He states in the interview that he sought to confront the federal agents on their oath to the constitution when the beating happened, after hearing of the seemingly random arrests using unmarked rental vans.

NowThis News compilation of police violence against journalists from June 1st

Another NowThis News compilation of more police violence against journalists from June 3rd

Vice coverage of the protests in the wake of George Floyds death, posted on June 2nd. This includes a rather emotionally intense moment when the crew is assaulted by police with pepper spray and tear gas along with a small family who were attempting to protect their local business.

What Now? A Few Words of Advice

The times ahead are uncertain and fraught of dangers to say the least, but if we wish to avoid the worst we have to act. So, what do we do? Don’t just hope but organize, strategize, plan, and fight for the best, while preparing for the worst. At the very least and most simple take the advice from Beau’s videos and make your voice heard. Demand the government start following their own manuals and stop escalating tensions even further. 

Yet distressingly enough, it seems unlikely that the onslaught of violent federal crackdowns will slow down anytime soon regardless of what we do. Preparedness seems more important now than ever, so here are a few basics. Try to get at least a month's worth of food if you haven’t already and still can. There are several sites for such things, such as Mountain House as one example, however much of this might be sold out or unaffordable so you might have to consider buying canned goods little by little as you can. Prepare a bug out bag, especially if you live in the city. There are countless tutorials and advice on this topic but try to stay focused on what you might need - things like a first aid kit, water, a filtered straw and other purification methods, a way to light a fire and cook, and so on. If you’re sane and responsible and wish to acquire a firearm for self defense if you haven’t already, and want to train but don’t want to have to involve yourself with the toxic conservative dominated gun culture, look into the SRA (Socialist Rifle Association) as they might be offering range days and training in your area. 

But most importantly, start networking and organizing. No matter what comes to pass it will be imperative that we develop close ties with those within our communities which we can call upon not only to help try to prevent the worst, but also for protection should our worst fears become a reality. You might consider joining your local IWW if you’re an advocate for democratic unionization and workplace democracy like myself, or you might look into and maybe get into touch with folks like Mutual Aid Disaster Relief, and see if there’s any local to your area or what you might be able to learn from them. Regardless, try to find some group you at least somewhat fit in with and organize with them together.

A quick final note on my blog

I started this blog spontaneously on July 3rd hoping to ease my way into amateur blogging first and hopefully a career in journalism later, however current events have left me anxious of the future and uncertain of what new tragedies might lurk around the corner of tomorrow. I am however, highly privileged. I live at home in a rural town in the South Eastern US far away from the unrest with a supportive family who have at least for the time being a fairly secure income, and am currently unemployed, meaning that while I have no income of my own at the moment I do have a lot of free time, which I plan to spend much of on my amateur blogging pursuits. So if you want to see more blog posts like this in the future, give me a follow and consider turning on notifications and you’ll certainly be seeing more posts like this from me in the days ahead.

[vulpinmusings]

Letters from Buxcord #7 - A Patch Job

Three sessions in the making, Ash and company go to fix something I broke the last time around.

Samantha,

It’s rather annoying to suffer wounds that I can’t just sleep off, but that fey spider’s acid spit did such a number on me that I’ve had to spend a week in the hospital and deal with skin grafts.  At least it’s not anywhere as bad as the last time I was obliged to go the hospital.  I don’t have to avoid using magic, for one thing.

While I was convalescing, Sheriff Greyson showed up to get an official statement for the spiders-man incident.  I gave him all the key details, naturally, even admitting to accidentally causing a small forest fire.  The Sheriff found the tale a bit beyond belief, but dutifully recorded what I said and then went off to ask Lea about the case.  Presumably after that he tracked down Penn, because the news report that eventually came out referenced three eyewitnesses, and declared all of us so traumatized by the events that our memories were addled.  Also, the police decided that spiders-man was the work of the same guy behind the so-called Razorback copycat killing (aka that time we fought a pig-masked ghost in the slaughterhouse).

 I’ve wondered why Sheriff Ragland wasn’t the one to collect our statements, since he’d been the officer in charge at Bizier’s house and has demonstrated a more open mind about the reality of the world.  Considering the official report, however, I suspect that Ragland’s own sanity has come into question.

I have half a mind to put on a bit of a show in front of the police station if the authorities are going to continue to be pig-headed about magic and mythics.  Skvetch, seems like half the people in this town who are in the know are devoted to keeping up a masquerade of non-magic.  More trouble than its worth, if you ask me.

Lea was discharged several days ahead of me, on account of not needing to replace any skin.  On her way out, she paid me a visit to have a chat about her recent realization that she’s (probably) a Faerie and has magic.  She said that she suspected herself of indirectly causing Bizier to be targeted and converted by the spider.  Back during the Razorback incident, Bizier had been the deputy Lea had tried to heal but accidentally drained.  Later on, she’d visited him in the hospital and managed to reverse what she’d done.  Lea feared that that had marked Bizier somehow, luring the fey spider to him.

I know all about carrying guilt for actions performed in… less than enlightened states of being, and I know the sorts of things to say to someone carrying that weight (search me if I can remember who learned it from, though).  Point is, even if Lea had marked Bizier somehow, she’d done it unconsciously, as she only recently became consciously aware of her mythical nature.  I told her so, and she seemed to accept it.  She then asked if I could help her get a grasp on her magic.  I said I would try, but admitted that I’m not an expert in how Faerie magic works, and I’m unsure if teaching her Weaves would be helpful.

Once I was freed from the hospital, I set to exploring Buxcord to find a Fey Way other than the one out in the bayou.  I’d rather not have to hassle with Bayou Boating every time I have business with the Faerie King or need to drop off some wayward pixie.  I managed to find a mushroom ring in the park, so mission success.  Still haven’t made any progress on restoring my lost memories or finding Nollthep.

Scratch that last bit! Nollthop’s still at large, but Madam Weaver finally came through and found someone who was able to restore my memory of the M’Dales and Carmilla!  I can picture them, recall their names.  Skvetch, I mentioned them in passing in a previous letter and only now remember doing so.

Before I explain the details of this restoration, though, there’s something else big that happened before, a few days after I got out of the hospital.

As I was walking to the local diner for breakfast, I noticed that Buxcord seemed strangely quiet.    Upon arrival, I saw everyone in the diner – customer and employee alike, slumped in a state of extreme lethargy.  The only exception was Mr. Penn, who was glad to see someone else in a normal state.  While Penn investigated someone’s food for unusual elements, I tried to coax words from some of the waiters.  I couldn’t get much from them, but from a glance at the ambient magic around them I got the sense that the lethargy was stemming from a loss of energy down to the very soul.

I called Lea to check on her.  She reported that she was feeling fine, but that she’d witnessed a bartender nearly pass out late last night after she felt a strange pulling sensation at her core.  I hadn’t felt anything of the sort, so it’s likely the draining wasn’t able to penetrate the magical defenses on my apartment.

We agreed to split up and search Buxcord for anyone else who wasn’t lethargic or a possible source of the problem.  Lea took the north side since she was already up that way and found Madam Weaver’s house.  The odd old lady was unaffected, and she and Lea had a productive little introduction.  Mr. Penn’s search took him along the outskirts of Buxcord and at some point came across Piper, who was not affected by the lethargy but rather unhelpful.

As for myself, I was searching through the south side when I came across a young woman in a hoodie.  She was acting nervous, and my bold approach probably didn’t help matters.  I quickly established that I was looking into what was going on, and after coaxing I got her to open up and offer her story.  Her name is Simone and she comes from a magical family with close ties to Buxcord’s history, although she wasn’t entirely convinced about the validity of magic at the time. Still, she’d been spared from the soul-draining and had just finished following a vague hunch that had taken her into the marshlands around the bayou.  There she had discovered an old cottonwood tree that would normally have been fully hidden from view, except there was a big hole in the barrier.

Yes, that same tree with the demonic aura I’d discovered while hunting the fey spider.  In my haste to catch up to the spider, I’d forgotten to close up the hole I’d made and had later assumed that a barrier of that age and strength would have some kind of self-renewal function Woven in.  Either that’s just not how things work in this universe, or the original casters of the barrier didn’t think to include such a function.

In any event, whoops.

Since Simone had prior knowledge of the sealed tree and a magical heritage, and thus was a potential source of very crucial help in fixing the problem I’d caused, I brought her with me when I went to meet up with Penn and Lea at the diner to compare notes. The only thing I learned from the other two is that Madam Weaver already knew the source of the problem and whose fault it was, because of course she did.

Our next order of business was to hike out to the bayou so I could get a good look at the breach and determine if I could just Weave up a patch.  We arrived to find a shadowy figure hovering above the water near the tree.  It looked familiar, although it took me a minute to realize why.  I’d seen this thing only once, shortly after my first little adventure, after that massive ripple of magic rolled through town. The figure didn’t move, although it did engage Lea in a conversation that I could only hear her half of. According to Lea, when Penn asked her about it a bit later, the gist of the conversation was that the figure admitted to stepping out of the barrier for a “snack” but that it was still mostly bound to the tree.  It didn’t offer a name or outright admit to being a demon, but it tried to cut a temptation deal to locate Lea’s human family if she helped it get out.  The barrier I’d ignorantly punched a hole in is the middle of three seals on the creature, with the cottonwood tree as the core and another barrier around the whole town.

As to the hole, it didn’t take me long to determine that the barrier was every bit as thick and complex as you’d expect a seal for an ancient evil to be; not the sort of thing you can just throw a quick patch over and expect it to keep holding.  That’s a lesson I don’t need to learn twice. So, I turned to Simone and asked if she has any old family records that might be of help.  She said maybe and, after I put a simple barrier to prevent the demon from taking another “walk” in the meantime, she led us back into town to her house.

Once we were settled in Simone’s house, she undertook a little search and came back with an old leather-bound book embossed with a mystical brand.  The book had some kind of spell on it to prevent strangers from reading its secrets, but my mental discipline proved enough to resist the effects enough to render the words legible, if slightly wavy.  After skimming about halfway through the book, I found an account of a time when the middle barrier had needed repair, and a description of the ritual involved.  It’s not particularly complex or demanding of material components; all we needed were enough mages to perform the steps, a warding amulet for the ritual’s leader, and “blood of the ancients.”

The first two things were easy to find.  Penn has dabbled in magic enough to be confident in taking part, I’m me, and I was willing to take a chance on Lea’ fey abilities counting once we’d secured the assistance of a couple more mages as back-up.  Simone was untrained but possesses the gift, and Lea was able to talk Rocky into helping as well.  Simone also supplied us with the warding amulet: a sun-shaped necklace given to her by her grandmother and likely the reason the demon hadn’t been able to drain her.

The blood of the ancient was going to be the tricky part, as we had no idea what that term could be referring to.  We decided to split up again and try two avenues of inquiry: Penn and I would check at Professor Thomas’s lab while Lea and Simone consulted with Madam Weaver.  To put it simply, the girls wound up choosing the right path.  The Madam said she could supply us with genuine ancient blood, whereas the lab would only be able to provide a synthetic substitute that wouldn’t last.  The real stuff would produce a proper fix, but getting it would set in motion some other calamity that Madam Weaver wouldn’t elaborate on.  The woman operates under some set of rules I haven’t sussed out yet.

Lea called me to discuss our options, and we decided that being sure of fixing the barrier for good was worth the price of some other trouble down the line.

So, with the materials in hand and personnel recruited, we went back to the cottonwood and got to work.  As the most accomplished mage in the group, I took the warding amulet and led the ritual.  It went smoothly, although the demon tried to distract us with temptations.  It offered to find me a way home, but also called my motives into question.  Although my memory of the core of the Order-naries hadn’t been restored yet, I still recalled enough to be rightly offended at the demon’s intimations that I had no reason to be helping Buxcord’s people.

Nobody bent to the demon’s words and we sealed it away without a hitch, and then went our separate ways.  I escorted Simone home, mostly as an excuse to ask to borrow her book again at some point and study up on Buxcord’s magical past.  Things are going to keep happening, and I’d prefer to be forewarned of anything old that may wake up.

Once I’d gotten Simone home, a letter materialized on the ground in front of me.  It was from Madam Weaver, informing me that the friend she’d asked to help with my memory had finally arrived.  I went straight to her house and met one of the tallest women I have ever seen.  Her name, or at least the name she said I could call her, was Minosity (Pretty sure I spelled that wrong; sounded Hellenic.) Mnemosyne, after a mythical titan of memory.  Fitting.

She was all business, but gentle.  I am normally quite reluctant to let somebody I’d just met mess around in my mind, but I was desperate to get my memories back, so I let all my barriers down as she searched for whatever the block was.  She did it with such ease, I’m almost envious, although she looked concerned about what she’d found. Apparently, Nollthep’s power comes from some sort of “Elder being.” As a bonus, she also put a protection spell on my mind, which I accepted with grace because my own natural defenses against mental influence are demonstrably insufficient in this world.  Or, maybe, my resistance is just wearing out after multiple assaults from exotic sources? That’s not a pleasant thought...

So, it’s starting to feel like I’ve dropped right into the middle of a multi-sided conflict over a relatively small patch of territory.  Between Faeries, sealed demons, at least one and possibly two old orders of protection, and whatever is behind Nollthep, there is a lot I’m going to need to learn about just to survive here.

Not too unlike the old days.

-Ash

[dweemeister]

Pinky (1949)

Hollywood’s plodding shift to featuring films starring and/or made by non-white people has produced stories and perspectives that have never graced cinemas before. Some of the American films that have stirred me are rooted in racial identity. The 1934 and 1959 adaptations of Imitation of Life are two such examples, and both tackle a subject that has not been addressed in Hollywood for decades – a black person passing as white and the conflicts of identity that inspires. Both versions of Imitation of Life are blessed with heartbreaking acting and ideas rarely uttered or depicted in film history. But I can imagine some viewers dismissing both films without attempting to engage them – the two adaptations have a black female lead that assumes certain “mammy” stereotypes and the 1959 version’s passing daughter character is mixed-race but is not black.

Released by 20th Century Fox, Elia Kazan’s Pinky (based on the novel Quality by Cid Ricketts Sumner) casts Jeanne Crain, a white actress, as the titular character: a fair-skinned black granddaughter who passes as white. It is without question that Crain’s casting undermines Pinky’s wonderful and nuanced message. Fox’s chief executive, Darryl F. Zanuck, and the Breen Office (which enforced the Hays Code) noted that because the title character loves a white man, the film – if it chose a black actress to play Pinky – could face an intense public backlash from "a number of sections of [the United States].” All but twelve states had anti-miscegenation laws in their books in 1949. Compromises were struck between Zanuck and the Production Office. Fox could make the film and keep the interracial romance (the screenplay was written in consultation with NAACP Executive Secretary Walter White) only if a white actress played Pinky. With Crain’s casting, the production moved forward, despite director Elia Kazan’s opposition to Crain’s selection.

On a sweltering day in the Deep South, Pinky Johnson (Crain) has returned to her impoverished rural hometown, hoping to see her grandmother Dicey (Ethel Waters) one final time before returning to the North. Dicey raised Pinky through her childhood and teenage years, with no mentions of allusions to biological or foster parents. Dicey is heartbroken to hear her granddaughter has downplayed her blackness during her time at nursing school, but is happy to learn that Pinky has graduated. To complicate matters, Pinky also tells of her love of a white doctor, Thomas Adams (William Lundigan), to whom she has revealed nothing of her black ancestry to. In addition, while attempting to collect her grandmother’s debts while in town, Pinky is involved in an incident with a Dr. Canady (Kenny Washington) and his significant other, Roselia (Nina Mae McKinney). The police arrive at the scene and apprehend all three. After being fortunately released from custody with just a warning – black people have been killed for far less by American police – Dicey learns that her elderly white neighbor, Miss Em (Ethel Barrymore), is dying and needs a nurse. Pinky, remembering how Miss Em was cruel and disparaging to her during her childhood, decides to extend her stay.

Also appearing in this film are the town’s doctor Joe McGill (Griff Barnett) and the gossiping Melba Wooley (Evelyn Varden, whose character is lacking a moral compass). Juanita Moore has a cameo as a nurse.

From the opening shots of Pinky, it almost feels as if it was shot on location somewhere in the Southern United States. Early in the film, there is an uncut tracking shot clocking in at almost ninety seconds as Pinky walks from the front of Dicey’s shack to the low cast iron gates of Miss Em’s slave-built estate. The sets, almost entirely constructed on a soundstage, are deep enough so that the audience cannot pinpoint the soundstage’s back wall. The foliage looms over dirt roads and buildings – the canopies, blowing in the wind, are never seen. Kazan, in retrospect, criticized his own film for not including the dirt and grime that need not be manufactured with location shooting. But these fabrications – thanks to cinematographer Joseph MacDonald (1958’s The Young Lions, 1966’s The Sand Pebbles) and art directors J. Russell Spencer (1936’s Modern Times, 1946’s Dragonwyck) and Lyle R. Wheeler (1939’s Gone with the Wind, 1956’s The King and I) – still evoke the small-town South. One can feel the humid heat permeating through the night, amid Spanish moss and the racial inequality built into public spaces and homes*. For those who do not live in such places, small dots on a regional map, the scenery envelops the viewer, allowing them to further understand the cultural disorientation of any visitor to Pinky’s hometown.

Though the film is a drama, Kazan borrows horror elements to frame the setting and highlight the racial tension that pervades this Southern town. Expressionist lighting overhangs shots of foggy forests, a graveyard, tight roads, and derelict/near-derelict buildings. During the night, these surrounding appear as if taken from a disturbing lucid dream. The lurking dangers are embodied through the racist and sexist characters that Pinky encounters. With this marriage of setting and supporting cast of flawed characters, Pinky could be classified as a Southern Gothic tale – a subgenre that uses the grotesque to comment on the American South’s culture. Kazan’s filmmaking here awakens the audience to Pinky’s inner turmoil over her racial identity and belonging. Freed from worrying about racial prejudice in the North due to her passing, she is terrified about what it means to be a black woman in the place of her childhood. Miss Em’s cousin, Melba, perhaps exemplifies the white residents’ racial animosity when she meets Pinky for the first time. What she says is a statement of curiosity, an expression of Southern gentility, and a veiled threat all at once: “I heard you were light, but I had no idea. Why, you’re practically white.”

Does Pinky still feel like she belongs to this poor village? That question, among others, has an answer. She must first navigate this racism, for the first time, as an adult. By film’s end and despite all outward appearances of success, it is unclear if Pinky is satisfied with the answer she has uncovered.

The interrogation of Pinky’s blackness truly begins when Miss Em quickly realizes the identity of the young woman tending to her bedside as a hospice nurse. Miss Em, though bedridden, attempts to reinforce her authority over Pinky – a relationship assuming Pinky’s immaturity and based on tacit racial subservience (for the latter, refer to both Imitation of Life films even as the white mother characters fully realize Louise Beavers/Juanita Moore’s humanity). No longer a child, Pinky will not tolerate Miss Em’s racial condescension. It matters not that the patient is drifting in and out of consciousness during her final hours. Miss Em will be more respectful towards Pinky in the face of this bedside manner. Perhaps she is chastened by Dicey’s friendship and the favor that Pinky need not return; perhaps she is admiring of the newfound strength in the young girl she used to berate; perhaps it is due to the drugs coursing through her body. That all or some of these factors can be interpreted as true empowers the film’s final act, as screenwriters Philip Dunne (1941’s How Green Was My Valley), Dudley Nichols (1938’s Bringing Up Baby), Jane White (no other film credits), and Kazan obfuscate any simple resolutions to the film’s sense of racial justice. Pinky validates anyone who might see the film as confirming that the harshest of souls can cool their racist predispositions, or that it is impossible to reform such persons.

Though Jeanne Crain’s casting captured the headlines, the best performances in the film are from the two Ethels. As Miss Em, Ethel Barrymore has little physical acting, so she must rely almost entirely in her verbal deliveries. Alternating between exhausted observation, acidic riposte, and resignation, Barrymore navigates these final hours of her character’s life with the requisite modulations in tone. Despite being on screen for less time than Crain and Waters, Barrymore – as Miss Em – inhabits a character with the most dynamic development, routinely stealing scenes even while confined to bed. Six years after starring and “taking a chance on love” in Cabin in the Sky (1943), the deeply religious Ethel Waters commands yet another accomplished performance in Pinky. As Dicey, she plays probably the least dynamic of the three principal characters, but Waters’ anguish and understated sense of egalitarianism is a fascinating contrast to Pinky’s drifting stoicism upon her arrival at Dicey’s shack. For the Ethels, they are playing roles analogous to those they had previously assumed. But Barrymore’s elderly curmudgeons rarely commented so directly on race; Waters’ hardened maternal figures seldom interacted with white people. Together, they form an imperfect, uneasy coexistence – a postbellum relationship grounded in necessity and deferred acceptance of the other.

Prior to Kazan’s arrival on set, John Ford (1939’s Stagecoach, 1946’s My Darling Clementine) had already directed a significant bulk of Pinky. Viewing the rushes, Darryl F. Zanuck was embarrassed by the footage Ford had shot, stating that, “Ford’s Negroes were like Aunt Jemima caricatures. I thought we [were] going to get into trouble.” Indeed, Ford was a dreadful fit, given the source material and the director’s reputation (Ford’s reputation on making introspective films about racial relations was dire, and he would not possess the basic skillset to make such a film until 1960’s Sergeant Rutledge). The cast, upon learning they were going to work with the best director in Hollywood at the time, were ecstatic the decision until it became clear his abrasive demeanor intimidated Crain and especially Waters. Zanuck quietly dismissed Ford in favor of Kazan (coming off 1947’s Gentlemen’s Agreement, which decried anti-Semitism), stating in public that Ford came down with a case of the shingles. Ford, as you have correctly guessed, never had the shingles. None of Ford’s work survives in the final print of Pinky.

Pinky was justifiably attacked by black critics for Crain’s casting over Lena Horne (who had lobbied for the role). The film, a compromise between 20th Century Fox and the Breen Office, contains mixed messages about racial integration and the nature of interracial friendship and love. The thematic confusion interferes with the film’s obvious, well-meaning intentions and the stellar performances from Ethel Barrymore and Ethel Waters. In its final form, one can only imagine how damaging Pinky may have been if John Ford remained with the production rather than Kazan. Within the artistic constraints of Hollywood studio filmmaking and the regressive perspectives of too many Americans, Pinky inspires a torrent of conflicting emotions as it struggles to form a coherent thesis. In a peculiar way, the muddled messaging is also a reflection of Pinky and mixed-race persons themselves, as they strive to understand what to make of themselves.

My rating: 6.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

* In the scene where Pinky goes to a general store late in the film, notice the racial composition of the customers and how they react to Pinky. Also, Dicey’s shack is aesthetically reminiscent to sharecropper hovels or slave living quarters.

[armsdealing]

* LOCATION SERIES: THOR’S RESIDENCES.

as the god of clouds, thor is scarcely at home and instead, he's always out and about either seeking adventure or on call for his skillset by gods and worshippers alike. this being said, he has a number of established homes both in asgard and in midgard that he frequents and could be found at whenever necessary.

ASGARD.

in the lore, thor is ascribed three dwellings -- þrúðheimr / thrudheim, or the world of might and strength, which is mentioned as his realm or kingdom (grímnismál, 4), bilskirnir, or lightning-crack, which is specified to be the name of his hall or mansion (also mentioned in grímnismál), and Þrúðvangr / thrudvang, or power-field, which could be interpreted as a different name for thrudheim, yet i chose to view as just a different location within the realm (pictured above).  

as always with norse myth, not much is mentioned about any of these places. thus i choose to take some creative freedoms with their descriptions and specifications. however, according to the norse myths by heilan yvette grimes, thor was born actually in midgard/verland (the land of men) with his mother jord (noteworthy for being the personification of the earth, and a jotunn). he was quick to grow and soon jord realized she could not manage him. at just a few months old he was able to lift and kick off the ten loads of bearskin piled on his cradle to keep him warm, a worthy feat for a grown man and inimaginable for an infant. all around, he apparently got on her nerves a lot (according to etter robert james, he was all around a handful, throwing massive and destructive fits, pulling at his parents hair and ears and being a little shit all the time, basically), so she sent him to the giants vingnir and hlora to be raised as their foster son in jotunheim, the reason why sometimes thor is referred to as vingthor and hlorridi.

one small detour: in the endnotes to his translation of the völsungasaga, jesse l. byock explains: “fosterage was a norse custom of having a child raised in another household in order to extend kinship bonds or to form political alliances”. since we have to assume that the giant-asgardian conflict was still alive and well while thor was growing up, it's good to keep this in mind for later reference -- maybe not for this post, but in general. 

thrudheim.

upon his return to asgard, and after killing a rock giant that threatened the aesir, thor was rewarded with some lands upon which he built a estate, and that estate was called thrudheim. in stanza 4 of grímnismál it is described as "a land [that] is holy, which i see situated near the aesir and elves". not much else is stated about the kingdom. some believe that in the afterlife worshippers of thor may end up in it, but unlike what you may think, not many of these worshippers are warriors. those tend to go to valhalla (the hall of odin) or folkvang (the hall of freya). instead, thor's hall tends to receive the common folk, peasants, farmers and workers of the land, and only a certain type of those who die in battle (primarily the "thralls", as in the servants and slaves, as opposed to the noble warriors, who will go to odin's hall). this much is mentioned in hárbarðsljóð, where odin (disguised as a ferryman) openly mocks thor with this fact during a verbal spat. 

so, knowing the population it will have, we can guess that the kingdom counts with many of the amenities of a large, tightly packed farming city. i'd also envision it surrounded by farms and crop fields, specially wheat fields considering that sif, thor's wife and an earth goddess, would be living with him. it's these fields what i would call thrudvang and what would give thrudheim the appearance of being washed in gold -- on top of, of course, the gleaming strikes of lightning that would be frequently seen in the cloudy skies. it's likely the kingdom plays a big role in asgard as a hub for agriculture and livestock farming -- i.e much of the food (and some of the mead) the gods eat and drink comes from thrudheim. the harvests would be always bountiful and perfect, thanks to the kind weather and generous soil endowed to the realm by thor and sif respectively.  there would be crops and flora of all kinds, as it's a very lush place, but it must be mentioned particularly the presence of oak forests due to their significance in thor's worship, as well as other plants and produce: the ash, the hazel, the birch, the rowan (also due to sif), the thistle, garlic, onion, houseleek, leek, vervain, burdock, hawthorn, the blackthorn, bramble, holly, nettle, and the rose, all of which have special properties and meaning in the cult of thor. (may be topic for a different post)

bilskirnir.

the massive hall was built for thor also around the same time as thrudheim was established as his estate. grimnismál, stanza 24, has odin reveal the following vision as he catalogs the dwellings of the gods: "five hundred rooms and forty / there are, i think, under the arches of bilskírnir / of those halls which i know to be roofed / my son's is the biggest." in gylfaginning, when he introduces thor, snorri has hár say that thor has a kingdom and a hall called bilskírnir with 540 rooms, which is the greatest of buildings, equal only to the one in valhalla. in skáldskaparmál snorri says that "owner of Bilskírnir" is a valid thor kenning, and in fact "prince of bilskirnir" is attested in the skaldic corpus. the meaning of the name is unclear, but it seems to be either "suddenly illuminated (by lightning)" or "everlasting." according to heilan yvette grimes, in bilskirnir, thor's fallen worshippers "guaffed mead and banqueted on enormous meals, and practiced their warrior skills in preparation for the last fateful battle."  in regards to appearance grimes also noted that the outside of bilskirnir was studded with shields and glowed red in contrast with the inside which was a gleaming purple.

it's a gigantic "mansion", but more than that, it's tall enough to reach the skies, as apparently thor frequently shoots lightnings from the top floor. it's also here specifically where he's said to live with his wife and children.

MIDGARD.

palafito in ologá, venezuela.

ologá, in contrast to the realm of thrudheim, is a tiny settlement where less than 50 families reside in stilt houses, or palafitos, which are houses raised on piles over the surface of the soil or bodies of water. it's located south of maracaibo, 1m over the water level, and it's a community of fishermen. it's sustained mainly by said fishing but also by tourism, as it's from its palafitos that the world-famous catatumbo lightning can be comfortably seen and photographed. (you can click in their names for some nice galleries featuring catatumbo and ologá) 

thor feels a natural connection to the place, given its peculiar atmospheric conditions which make it so predisposed to thunderstorm activity and lightning (which occurs during 140 to 160 nights a year, 10 hours per day and up to 280 times per hour). he has a natural pull to it, drawing special strength from the perpetual storm, which sent him to the small town sometime around the mid 50s and made him build his own stilt house there, keeping in mind his size and height, something that quickly made him the object of curiosity from the locals. he made his most used human persona, dario belmonte, be born here, and he became a very active figure in the town as a fisherman, builder, and healer and all around friend to everybody. it got to the point that eventually he pretty much confessed (more or less) his status as a god to the entire town, as there was no other way to explain his lack of aging and magical abilities. to this day, they continue to keep his secret, and he visits them sporadically every few years to make sure they're doing well.

his palafito is not more lavish than any of the other houses in the settlement and it's made from the same materials. it's a two room house and anyone else is free to use it whenever he isn't here -- he usually leaves it to his neighbors so they can rent it to tourists.  

in his post-ragnarok verse thor, who was meant to die after his battle with the midgard serpent, ends up coming back to "life" in the depths of the maracaibo lake during one of the loudest thunderstorms the townsfolk had ever witnessed. he's found floating unconscious by a couple fishermen in the morning and taken to the house of one of the older citizens, who recognizes him. he's nursed back to health and it's from this point onwards that thor begins his arc exploring what is left of midgard.

farm in sweet grass county, montana.

located in the outskirts of big timber, montana, thor counts with a 4 bedroom farmhouse with a barn and 4 horse stalls + heated tack shed. next to the house sits a metal shop with concrete floor and overhead door with electricity throughout. the barn and the arena are surrounded by corrals. 40 acres surrounding the house comprise the perimeter, cross fenced as needed. there are 4 wells, one in each of the 120 acre parcels.  

thor established this farm in 1995, and lived in it almost permanently between march of that same year and november of 2007. he didn't live alone, however; he invited his brother tyr -- who was then living in kentucky -- to live with him so they could be close to one another. almost simultaneously thor made tyr the part owner of the estate. in the farm they keep up to four horses, a dozen of chickens and six goats (which he keeps for milk), and a variety of crops cycled in and out depending on the season (carrots, beets, potatoes, green peas, sweet peas, broccoli, corn, and more). they also have two dogs, two huskies by the names brynjar and einar that freely roam the property, as well as tyr's three cats.

after 2007, thor still technically continues to live there, but he travels more frequently.

PHOTO CREDITS. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4. 

[dlamp-dictator]

You know, I wanted to talk about the fun parts of the latest Arknights event, like how Texas and Waii Fu got into a fist fight in the streets of Lungmen. I wanted to start a small essay about how Granbelm’s Anna Fugo was a great and interesting villain and how Granbelm as a who was a pretty good mecha anime. I wanted to talk about how awfully predatory AFK Arena’s gacha system is.

But before all that, I think it’s high time I actually lived up the “X” part of Allen X.

So, I hate talk about current events, namely because they heavily date my posts. As such I usually save them for my end-of-the-year pieces that are dated by design. However, I don’t think I can quietly watch a lot of what’s going on in my country without at least addressing its existence.To be silent is to be compliant after all. I’ll try and keep this as brief as I can, but no promises. 

But like most of my Ramblings, some background.

As of me writing this, the date is May 31st, 2020. For those unaware, a George  Floyd has been killed by a police officer via strangulation a while back. As sad as it is for me to say, this is honestly nothing new in America. Racial discrimination and prejudice by law enforcement is, frankly, older than this country. However, this seems to have been the tipping point, as several states and larger cities have erupted into mass protest. For most of my research and feed searching, the protest have been mostly peaceful, and a lot of the violence has seemed to be done by White Nationalist groups like the Proud Boys and the KKK in an attempt to smear the peaceful protests, even by a few police officers.

My small town is as quiet as ever, but the world around me has exploded.

I’m usually seen as a quiet and thoughtful person for the most part in real life. I think only a handful of my friends actually know my temper can get razor thin in times of stress, and this has been a pretty stressful time for me. So... I’ll break this down as thoroughly as I can. I’ll try and stay calm and professional as I usually am in most of my ramblings, but I can’t make promises on that.

But let’s get to the first point.

Things are Scary

Something I was going to save for a future Art/Writing rambling, but I don’t think enough people have been admitting that things are very scary right now. In the same vein that I don’t think enough people admit art and writing is hard, I don’t think enough people, enough people with actual pull to their words, are admitting that, yes, things are very scary right now as of May 31st 2020.

In January we had a political situation that nearly started War World 3. In February we had the announcement of a global virus that is still just as contagious and deadly as it was then, and possibly was running about by late December. In either March or April I believe had major flooding in the state of Michigan, and now it seems we’re going to end May with civil rights protests where police and military are attacking protesters seemingly unprovoked.

And this is all very scary.

I know my words don’t have the same weigh as a celebrity or a political figure, but I feel that validation of basic human emotion is the key to coming to an understanding, so I’ll say again: this is all scary stuff. It feels like as my world continues to turn uninterrupted while the world around me is just turning more and more to ash. It’s like being in a safe haven while watching people run from a fire slowly approaching, and it’s scary. It’s outright terrifying. And I think it’s important to admit this and accept this. You can be afraid, you can say you’re afraid, you can cry and worry about how scary things are. Accepting those feelings is important, just don’t let them control you.

That said.

Allen X’s Take on Things

Here’s what I can say so far. 

A lack of police accountability has be a fact of life here in the US for years, decades even.

The police have far more power than we give them credit for.

While many of my dealings with police have been good, I get the feeling I’m the exception to the rule.

Our current federal leadership has been nothing short of ignorant, arrogant, and domineering toward not only minorities, but the general population.

Supporters of this leaderships are, frankly, remarkably ignorant at best, and criminally dangerous at worst. 

We have reached a point were basic health regulations such as wearing masks in the middle of a global pandemic is now a partisan issue. This is bad. 

We have reached a point where more police accountability during a time of global pandemic is now politically divisive. This is also bad.

I could go on, but these are the most pressing thoughts I have on our current situation and the nicest I can be about this topic while maintaining an air of professionalism. Like I said, things are scary. The more I look into things, the worse I feel about the state of this country. The only positive thing I can say is that it should all be over once election day comes. 

Now, here’s something else I’d like to state.

Allen X is Black

I never enjoy talking about my ethnicity on the internet. As someone who talks more about video games, anime, manga, and general niche “otaku” media, I feel like my ethnicity and race rarely play a role in my opinion of Asian media, as I’d always be viewing it as an outsider regardless. However, with this topic I feel I should at least state that there is a reason I use X as a stand-in for my pseudo last name. It was originally the name of an old self-insert OC, Allen X. Walker, but when I realized Allen Walker was already taken, I just left it to Allen X. A cheeky nod to both how a lot of only aliases of the early 2000s had “X” as a stand-in to keep original names, and a to my ethnicity, riffing on Malcom X, who used that letter as a stand-in for the last name our ancestors had stolen when taken to the US by force to work the plantations.

As I said, my race is rarely relevant to what I cover, but it does effect my everyday life. I get nervous when I say on my application sheets that I’m Black, wondering if that’d be a black mark. I get twitchy whenever I do my laps around my predominately white neighborhood, wondering if I’d get snide looks and sneers. I get agitated whenever anyone uses the n-word due to it never meaning anything positive in my past. I annoyed when people assume I’m either British or from the UK due to my not having the typical accent of most Black people since I lived in a white neighborhood for most of my life and took speech classes as a child to speak “normally”. Hell, I was bullied by the Black seniors in my high school as a Freshman for not being “Black enough”. And more recently, I was kicked out of the neighborhood I do my rollerblading laps in because that neighborhood suddenly became “private property” when some new neighborhoods moved in. New neighbors that are fine with me being ran over by a car, but not “trespassing” on their sidewalks.

Needless to say, I am very familiar with racism and prejudice. It doesn’t effect me as badly as the folks in the south and especially where these protests are, but I am familiar with it. And when I see these videos and tweets of the violence and police brutality, the anger of the people, it’s terrifying. It terrifying that this is real and is happening just a few states down south of me, and possible one state north of me. It’s terrifying that all this is happening so brazenly and with very few people in our system of government, at least at the executive level, doing anything about. And it’s terrifying that I’m not seeing this on too many major news channels and sites. That’s partially due to me rarely looking up the news aside from headlines, but most major places I’ve seen, save for maybe CNN, really haven’t been talking much about it, not as much as I’d like anyway. It’s all just a lot to take in, and those nervous moments I have due to my ethnicity start to make me shake with fear some days now.

But... I need to move on to the next topic, for the sake of my sanity.

What Must be Said

Like before, I feel like there are things that must be said. To be silent is to be compliant, and while my own position in life is a little to fragile to break out the picket signs and parade the streets, I will at least use my online voice to state what I feel must be stated, if only to say what I do and don’t agree with. 

With that said:

Injustices by the police and general law enforcement must be given accountability.

The murder of innocent minority, racial or otherwise, is wrong and must be given the proper punishments.

The lack of care toward healthcare, workers’ rights, civil rights, and so on must be ratified.

Law enforcement should never be seen as or used as a force of fear as it currently is now.

And during a health pandemic like we are now, safety should be a prime concern before anything else. For the police to be acting as they are now makes me fearful of the future.

The fact that I have to say any of that, the fact that any of that is controversial is appalling. The fact that a simple hashtag like #blacklivesmatter is controversial is appalling. The fact that I even hesitated to write that hashtag to maintain professionalism is appalling. It sickens me a little to live in a country where any of that is said, written, or typed with a hint of hesitation or worry. It’s just... so appalling.

That’s all I have to say on this subject, at least in this tone. My purer, more raw thoughts I’ll save for my friends and family in private.

But... I think that leaves us with one question left before I end this. Which is...

How Did We Get Here?

Folks, I am a knowledgeable man, but I don’t consider myself an intelligent one. I didn’t study years of the underlying racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, Islamophobia, and antisemitism that lead to our situation.

However... I am very sarcastic and sharp-tongued man. I don’t show that side of myself often here on the internet aside from jokes and jabs at nonsensical things like anime, as it breaks my typical persona of an analytical and professional man, but I think I can sum up what’s happening by paraphrasing single quote that I feel many of the wrong people have used to justify their own feelings of injustices. So with that said:

What do you get when you cross an abused and patient minority with a society that abandons them and treats them like trash?

“I’ll tell you what you get. You get what you fucking deserve.”

Anyway, ideally I’ll have a much happy topic to talk about later this week. Like Arknights. Like I said in the beginning, A former mafia delivery girl got into a fist fight with a kung fu detective, a lot of fun things happened in the latest event.

[multi-fandom-writer]

the boy with the colors

part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

taglist: open, just send me an ask! word count: 2.3k warnings: like one swear at the end, but other than that fluff

Blond. Harrison’s hair was blond. Maybe it was closer to dark blond. It’s definitely dark blond. His hair color complimented his skin tone immensely. The tan skin stretching over his upper arms was a sight almost as beautiful as the natural world, before it was inhibited by mankind. The boy’s laugh was more intoxicating than the finest of wines. All of his positive attributes caused you to wonder how he hadn’t found his soulmate yet. You had spent a considerable amount of time thinking about the blond haired boy that introduced you to the vibrantly colored world. 

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Tom’s voice was smug. He was right about you and Harrison and he knew it. If you were being honest, you knew it, too. So, you decided to humor the actor.

“Please, Thomas. Who else would I be thinking about?” You made eye contact with him in the mirror as he chuckled.

“He hasn’t been able to stop talking about you, honestly. He saw the color green yesterday and he told me it reminded him of your emerald green eyes,” Tom tells you, still chuckling. You, however, did not find what Tom said laugh-worthy. Harrison had noticed your eyes. He had noticed how they looked like emeralds and something reminded him of them. Harrison hadn’t been able to stop talking about you. The joy was bubbling over in your stomach. “You need to talk to him, y/n.” 

“Tom, I-I can’t. His career is just taking off, he won’t have time for a relationship. He is very well-known. He could very well reject me,” your voice stopped, but you were still coming up with reasons as to why this couldn’t be your reality. Harrison lived in London, and you were from a small town in South Dakota. Harrison wouldn’t be interested in you. You weren’t a girl that liked the spotlight, you preferred to be behind the scenes.

When you imagined your perfect soulmate, you thought of reading books together and being comforted when a character died, baking cookies just to get into flour fights, and showering together after, cuddling up with a warm blanket and good movie during thunderstorms. You thought of all the late night activities you would be doing with him: strolling through the park, making a baby, taking care of said baby, having long talks and endless cuddles. You couldn’t see Harrison giving up his life of partying and being a celebrity to do that with anyone, least of all you. You were not deserving of Harrison Osterfield. At least, not in your eyes. 

“Darling, he won’t say no. He just doesn’t know how to go about this. Obviously, it’s new territory for him,” Tom comforted you. “I can tell your thinking of all the excuses in the book. I can see the hamster running on its little wheel inside your brain.”

The comment made you chuckle. Not only chuckle, but straight out laugh. “Thomas Holland, we are done talking about this.” you asserted with a hint of a smile on your lips.

“Sure we are,” he answered with a shrug.

“We. Are.” You enunciated as Harrison walked up to the two of you holding not one, but two coffees.

The first was still steaming as he handed it off to Tom. The second, however, was and iced caramel latte, which just happened to be your favorite. Harrison was holding the light brown coffee out to you. Remembering the brief moment when you mentioned to Tom that iced caramel lattes were your favorite, you took the coffee with a smile and tried to hide the deep blush spreading across your face. He was such a little shit sometimes, and you made a mental note to inform him of that later.

The three of you had a rather boring conversation about your weekend plans, which of course Tom initiated, before he had to leave to start filming on some of his scenes. Tom was barely ten feet away before the words left your mouth. “I can see colors now…” the words were soft and trailed off toward the end. Vulnerability dripped from the words you uttered, although they didn’t even seem like your own.

The tall boy in front of you stood, frozen in time. A minute went by that you hoped, you prayed he didn’t hear you. When a smirk appeared on the gorgeous boy’s face, you knew that he had in fact heard your words. “I saw a few lovely green leaves yesterday,” he began, his voice smooth like honey. “They reminded me of your eyes, but they weren’t quite the exact color,” he paused, his eyes gazing directly into yours. “The leaves, they were darker green, but your eyes,” he studied your eyes for a second, although it felt like an eternity, “they’re closer to emerald green. They sparkle in the light,” his words were poetic, bringing tears to your eyes. If he could speak this way only about the color of your eyes, what could he say about the rest of you: your personality, your insecurities, and your passions. Harrison said the words you were thinking, “I think you might be the one.” He tucked his bottom lip under his teeth, a sign that he was extremely nervous.

You only nodded, not being able to form a coherent sentence. He extended his hand out to you, a warm smile still spread across his face. You spoke without thinking, “You are the one.” Your voice was quiet and timid; it was much more fragile than usual. You moved to grab his hand gently, his hand holding onto yours with a firm, but tender grip.

“Do you want to take this slow or just go all in?” He asks, running his thumb over your knuckles. You knew what he meant though: do you want to keep this quiet or go public? Do you want to be confined to takeout on the couch or be scrutinized every time you go out in public with him. In reality, nobody could argue that you two were soulmates. People could doubt and speculate all they wanted to, but very few would be brave enough to call Harrison a liar. Still, you were unsure about being in the spotlight.

“Let’s just go slow for now,” you concluded.

“If we’re going to keep private, we should stop holding hands then…” his eyes met yours as you ever so slightly shook your head. His eyes lit up as whispered, “how scandalous,” in your ear.

You let a giggle slip past your lips at the words. “You think we could watch a movie tonight?” you asked, noticing the light pink flowers on his button up shirt.

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to get Tom out of the trailer for long enough, darling,” Harrison replied, moving his thumb in circles over the back of your hand.

“I think my place will work just fine,” you said with a small smirk.

Twelve exhausting hours later, Harrison was standing in your kitchen, putting a bag of popcorn in the microwave. “Come on. We have to watch the original before we watch Fallen Kingdom,” Harrison spoke, waiting for the popcorn to finish.

“But Fallen Kingdom is so much better,” you argued with a giggle and got bowls down from the cupboard.

“That isn’t a valid point, Y/n,” he laughs as the popcorn gets done. “We might just have to watch the first movie or two tonight and then finish this little date this weekend,” he offers with a smirk plastered across his face.

“Woah, slow down there, bud. I agreed to one movie tonight,” you joked.

“Are you telling me you don’t want to spend time with me?” he asked, throwing a piece of popcorn at you.

“Don’t even start with me, Harrison Osterfield. I have spent the better part of my day with you,” you answered, tossing a piece of popcorn in you mouth and walking to your living room.

Harrison followed after you and sat on your couch. “Yeah but Tom was with us, too,” he whines. “I want you all to myself.”

“Aww, poor pretty boy,” you fake pout as you sit next to him, leaving a few inches between the two of you.

Even from the corner of your eye, you couldn’t have missed the way he perked up at your words. “You called me pretty,” his voice was barely audible as he said it. “You think I’m pretty?” His eyes were focused on you instead of the screen.

Making eye contact with him, you saw how much he needed to hear this from you. Harrison was a very nice looking boy. He had thousands of girls fawning over his pictures, even though most of them could only see them in black and white. He was used to being objectified for his looks. He knew how good he looked, but he needed someone there for him. The last person he needed to objectify him was his soulmate.

“Yeah, I think you’re pretty, but I also think you’re really kind-hearted and sweet,” you answered, reaching out to hold his hand. “You think you have something to prove to me, but you don’t. You don’t need to be the smooth pretty boy that has everything figured out. Not around me, okay?” you let out softly. Harrison froze, his hand wrapped around yours. You moved closer to him, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand.

He wrapped his arms around you, letting you rest your head on his chest. “I’m not used to being myself around people. I have a reputation.” The simple confession left a comfortable silence between you and him. His arms stayed wrapped around you throughout the movie, holding you close to him. His hands rested over yours, with his fingers drawing light patterns over your soft skin. By the end of the movie, both you and Harrison were nearly asleep, your bodies still entangled together. There was a point where your two bodies became one: you could hear his deep breathing and feel his steady heartbeat, your hands were holding onto his tightly, his warm breaths were brushing on the skin of your neck and giving you goosebumps.

“You should stay here tonight, it’s like almost midnight,” you mumbled to the sleepy boy behind you. When he didn’t respond at first, you thought he had actually fallen asleep. Not that you could hold that against him; you knew how stressful his job could be. 

When you moved to see if he was really sleeping, his arms tightened around you. “I heard you, darling. I agree with you,” his voice held obvious exhaustion as his words passed through his lips. “You can go to bed, I’ll sleep out here.”

“We’re soulmates, you aren’t sleeping on the couch,” you reply softly, playing with his long fingers. His hand was relaxed, letting you move it however you wanted to.

“I’m too tired to get up, though,” he murmured.

“Come on, my bed is really comfortable,” you answered him, starting to stand up. He only looked up at you, moving his hand out for you to pull him up. You helped him up and lead him to your room, keeping your hand locked in his. “I’m gonna grab a pair of sweats for you to change into,” you whispered, letting your hand slip from his.

“No, it’s fine, really,” he tried convincing you not to, but you were already holding the sweats out to him.

He shook his head and took the clothes from you. “You can change in the bathroom, I’ll change out here.” You nodded and walked into your en suite. After changing, you walked out to see Harrison clad in your sweatpants and his shirt.

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your lips, “you can sleep shirtless, Harrison.” Your sleepy state made this situation all the more hilarious to you. Your eyes caught his dumbfounded face and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. “Really Harrison, you can sleep without your shirt on,” your hand was now covering your stomach, which was aching from your laughing.

He quirked an eyebrow at you as he slid his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. The beautiful expanse of skin covering his abs was enough to quiet you, immediately. “Yeah, thought that’d shut you up,” he quips, tossing his shirt somewhere on the floor. He smirked as you moved the blankets back and climbed into your bed. “Wanna cuddle?” He asked, watching as a deep blush rose to your cheeks. “You know you want to, peach. I can see it,” he chuckles, laying next you and reaching out to hold your hand. 

Your fingers wrapped around his as you sleepily mumbled, “I could go for some cud-”

You were cut off by Harrison pulling you into his bare, but warm body. His muscular arms were wrapped around you for the second time in the same night. You had never felt safer than you did in this moment. You still had your reservations, but there was no doubt that he made you feel safe. Whether you liked it or not, Harrison Osterfield was the person; he was your person. You listened to his calming heartbeat before he spoke up, “imagine going to sleep like this every night.” 

Too tired to answer fully, you answered, “keep talking, please.”

His voice was smooth as silk as he went on, “we can have kids someday, if you want them. Maybe a few dogs, too. We could get a nice house with a big backyard and take our fifteen dogs and two kids to the park for picnics.” You can hear the lazy smile through his words. You can tell how excited he is to just be talking about this with you, more so to you as the situation stands.

“Yeah, sounds really nice,” you whispered as your eyes fluttered shut. Maybe you were wrong. Perhaps the universe had not made a mistake and Harrison really would give up his glamorous life in the spotlight to have a love-filled family life. You fell asleep, for the first time in your life, in the arms of the man the universe destined you to be with. And you had to admit, it felt damn good. For now. . .

---

taglist: @stuckonspidey @mrs-hollandstan  @thollandss

[fyheiran]

well hello hello !! my name is jada, it’s very nice to meet ( or re-meet ) you !! i’m late to the game and honestly all over the place, but i hope you’ll forgive me as i start to get my life together ! anyways, this is miss bo heiran, and you will be knowing her as our resident snake ! both she & i were here during findyou’s last run, but now she’s got a different role and other changes to her character as well !! she’s definitely got quite the mean streak, and is really the devil in a wolf in sheep’s clothing !! anyways you can find her profile here, pinterest here, ig here, and for now i’m straying away from a plots page ! but if you want to know more about her & gather some connection ideas, please see the read more below !! and you can like this if you’d like to plot ! can’t wait to interact with you all ! xoxo

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 :

she’s from chuncheon, south korea !! def a lot smaller in comparison to seoul,

there, she was definitely not the big city girl she is today !! in fact, she was a lot different - humbler, less competitive, just ... chill !!

her love for acting peaked in school, when she joined a theatre production on a whim and got picked as the lead to her surprise !! from there, she got more involved and she slowly began to see acting as a potential career choice

prior to this, heiran had no real aspirations but so desperately wanted to feel passionate about something, so when i say she clung to acting, she clung to acting

but as time went on she grew more envious to those who lived in seoul, as she felt it was easier for her to get gigs there !! so at only 15, she vowed she’d move there as soon as she got old enough.

throughout the rest of her schooling years, her skills really improved and people in her town started talking about how she may have some true promise !

but you know how they say 3 time’s a charm ?? well . . . that’s heiran ! her first fail was in high school, when her application to sopa got declined. she was devastated, as it stopped her dreams to move to seoul for the time being & took a huge toll on her self confidence ! 

finally following graduation she went to attend korea national university of arts, which was her first true big win !! she really felt she was doing something, and in her 3rd year of school she landed her first acting gig for a webdrama.

everyone from her hometown was ecstatic, as there were a few pretty big names and she was going to be in her first real drama !

 the second fail happened then !! she got a really bad spinal injury, and was out of the drama for the rest of it’s recording ! they had to replace her and she was heeeeated. she felt like an embarrassment to her town, and her injuries took her out of the acting scene for an entire year !

but like i said, third time’s a charm ! at 22 she started her true acting debut, fresh out of college and fully recovered ! it was a later than she anticipated, but she was well received ! she only had small roles at first, but after befriending somi it seemed like her popularity spiked ! everyone was asking who somi’s new friend was and what her future held in the acting industry ! it truly did wonders for her career, and as a result, heiran began clinging to her for support.

it wasn’t long before her admiration and gratitude turned to sour jealousy, though !! she began to realize that her fame paled in comparison to somi’s, and felt that she was always compared to her friend rather than seen as her own person !

but rather than handle this like ... well, a normal person ... she misdirected her anger and slowly began feeling a sort of hatred for her ?? it def stemmed off of her jealousy but it wasn’t obvious at first. she was just a little distant. but one day when her & somi got into a fight she yelled something about somi thinking she’s better than everyone. and this is when heiran believes their friendship went south !!!

still, heiran was desperate to keep that actresses bond up for the cameras for the sake of her own career, so put her skills to use to fake their friendship !! only other actors are probably aware of the fakeness of it all, as she’s the type to drop her smiles as soon as the camera cuts off. 

as you would imagine, heiran dreaded under a thousand stars when she still believed somi was in it. while she was v excited to be around so many actors and in her first historical drama, she hated how much she had to fake and how closely her character resembled her own predicament.

so now that somi’s gone she’s secretly ... relieved ?? she def won’t go telling this to just anyone, but those closest to her probably have noticed a shift. without having to pretend, and without being in her shadow, she can just be heiran. she won’t tell anyone this, but she secretly hopes that somi stays missing until she fades out the spotlight.

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀 :

as you have probably been able to tell, she is a sssnake !!! she comes off as really bright and friendly initially, but if you get on her bad side you’ll definitely see her ugly side !! she’s not mean just to be mean though, and really is only that way if she sees you as competition or you’ve provoked her.

i don’t know how to explain this, but ... she’s cocky and self-conscious at the same time ?? like she’s pretty confident at face value, but she has to constantly hype herself up to stay that way ?? she requires a lot of validation and assurance, but with that, her self confidence skyrockets !!

very materialistic !! she didn’t come from a rich family, but always wished she had so worked hard to be able to afford nice things. she’s always showing them off because she’s proud she can finally afford them for herself. but her splurging is a problem, and she is slowly going into debt yikes !!

has a pomeranian named mars who she loves to bits !! she’s all over her instagram, and often times she’ll bring her along in her fan during filming to keep her company.

as you could probably tell, she get’s jealous easily of the things she wants that other’s have !! she wants the same success as those around her, and tends to get bitter when that isn’t the case !

not romantically dependent. she isn’t actively seeking a relationship, sort of just in the “if it happens it happens boat” ?? much more into no strings attached deals though, as they don’t interfere with her career and prevent her from getting hurt ! 

she’s a little sassy honestly !! it comes from her stubbornness, if she’s got her mind stuck on something it’s going to stay that way ! if someone even raises her voice at her she’s the type to either give them the “who are you talking to ??” look or straight up tell them off lmao !!

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 :

these are just some ideas to get you going !! since there’s so few of us, i feel like we can also just go based off of muse chemistry !

another fairly new actor who starred in one of her first dramas with her, and they rose to fame together !! they’d be pretty close to each other !

someone who caught her during one of her mean streaks, and though she’s tried to show a better side of her, they’ve never been able to forget the way she behaved then !

another person who might be on bad terms with somi ?? and they first related about that, and it’s sort of transformed to them shit-talking & spilling tea anytime they see each other haha !!

heiran knows one of their secrets, so she’s been holding it against them to get favors she needs ?? can you say BLACKMAIL ??

any true drama-filled plots !! literally cheating exes nemesis all of that ... heiran is a messy woman and i live for the drama folks !!

someone who’s been friends with heiran for a while and knows her more vulnerable side ?? they’re her confidant & they can tell each other nearly anything !

off the record on and off flings / one night stands ?? maybe feelings emerge maybe they don’t, it’s up to you !!

or maybe a little crush where for once, heiran genuinely likes someone ?? oh my ??

unrequited crush maybe ?? she’s def the type to be like mm sorry but no but still live for the attention lmao !!

heiran idolizes this person, be it for their acting or another quality they possess, and just really respects them ?? or it can be the other way around !!

someone who heiran trusts enough to put mars her dog in the care of .... please do not let her pee in the house & give her lots of cuddles or she’ll kill you !!

alcohol tw: drinking buddies !! because it’s just natural heiran would need some nights of downing drinks to cope with her stress, and it’s lonely if no one joins her !

[talisamposts]

My 7-day Tasmania Itinerary

Tasmania is such a beautiful travel destination! I recently spent a week there and absolutely loved it. Aside from pre-planned group bookings, I didn’t find much in the way of solo travel itineraries, so I took a bit out of all the posts I found and created my own. I have to say, I thought it was near perfect! I decided to rent a car for the week, but if you have your own and take the ferry over, that works too.

So if you’re planning a trip to Tassie, have a look over my plan.

Day 1 - Hobart

Your first day can be spent just exploring Hobart and the surrounds. As it’s not a large city and the airport is so close, it’s possible to see quite a few things even if you only have half a day. 

In terms of accommodation, Hobart is not lacking in anything. I would definitely recommend a stay in Rose Bay, which is not in the Hobart city centre, but across the bridge on the opposite side of the Derwent river. It’s a few minutes’ drive out of the city and you get the most spectacular views of the Tasman bridge and the river. 

While driving around Hobart and around the city, make sure to head up to Mount Wellington. This is a must-see and probably the easiest and cheapest thing you’ll do. It’s completely free to go up to the viewpoint and you can drive the entire way. I drove at a leisurely pace, stopping a few times to take pictures and take in the scenery, which probably took me about a half hour. The view from the top is breathtaking and you can wander around there for a bit. Just remember to take warm clothing as it’s freezing at the top!

Once you’ve been up Mount Wellington, head to the Botanical Gardens. Entry is also free and the gardens are stunning. They have a wide range of plant species, a cafe and shop and their very own Japanese Garden. If you’re wanting some peace and quiet in nature, this is the place to go.

For dinner, Hobart has many options. As a vegan, I love supporting businesses that are entirely veggie, which is why I ate at Veg Bar a few times. To be honest, it’s not the greatest vegan food I’ve had by a long shot, but it’s worth a visit, if only to enjoy the funky decor.

Day 2 - Bruny Island

Since driving a lot can get tiring, I recommend doing the things that require the longer drives at the beginning of your week. Trust me, you’re not really going to be in the mood for them towards the end. To catch the ferry to Bruny Island, an absolute must-see when in Tassie, you have to drive about 30-40 minutes to Kettering. The ferry takes about 15 minutes and departs at multiple times throughout the day. The island itself is actually really large with no public transport, so prepare to spend the majority of your time driving.

If you’re keen to get that Bruny Island lighthouse photo everyone loves, I recommend doing that as your first thing. It’s the furthest away from where the ferry docks and the road takes you through the South Bruny National Park. It’s gorgeous but be careful on the dirt roads as your tires can slip easily depending on your car. I think it took me roughly 2 hours to get there. 

I am not ashamed to admit that, as an introvert, I despise large crowds and will almost always avoid them. I did not get that typical lighthouse pic, because it started raining just as I got there, there were heaps of people and it’s still quite a climb from the carpark up to the lighthouse. I walked halfway up, took an average pic of the lighthouse, and went back down. Keep in mind that you have to pay an entry fee to actually go into the lighthouse. I still think it was worth the drive, though, because the scenery there and along the way is absolutely beautiful.

Aside from the lighthouse, there are plenty of other things to see and do on Bruny Island. Wine tasting, chocolate tasting, whiskey tasting, cheese tasting, lunches (my recommendation is Bruny Island Seafood Restaurant for great seating and a delicious pumpkin soup) and many other options. Build those into your itinerary however you’d like. If you’re exploring the island the way I did, starting right down at the bottom, I recommend heading over to Adventure Bay next. 

On your way back up to the north of the island, make sure to stop at the Neck. This is the part that connects the south and north of Bruny Island. Climb up the stairs to the lookout point and get that iconic view of both beaches! 

The reason I did this later in my day was that there are a lot less people around than in the morning, so you can actually find parking and enjoy the view without a million people around you.

Day 3 - Bay of Fires

For two days of my trip I did actually book a guided tour. I know this is not always the most appealing to introverts, but I highly recommend you push yourself to do it. There are plenty of tours to choose from, most of them doing roughly the same thing and they tend to keep groups to a maximum of 24 people. In my case I was very lucky, as they’d somehow overbooked their tour and organised a smaller bus for just 7 of us. The people in my tour were all absolutely lovely, and our guide was excellent, so it worked out really well for me. 

Either way I’d still recommend booking an East Coast Tasmania tour as getting all the way up to the Wineglass Bay and the Bay of Fires would be tricky as a solo traveller. This is really where you want to be taken care of, and I also enjoyed the break from having to drive for hours.

Have a look at some Tassie tours here.

I realise that for these two days my rental car was not being used, but the daily price was not high enough for me to care too much about this. If this is something that bothers you, change up your itinerary a bit. Keep in mind that booked tours run on specific days only, so you’ll have to plan around that. The 2-day East coast tour I booked starts on Wednesdays.

Part of the tour is also a stop at a wildlife sanctuary in Bicheno, where you can see and learn about Tasmanian Devils, Wombats, Quolls and other interesting animals. Buy a feed bag and go feed the kangaroos and geese wandering freely around the sanctuary, it’s an amazing experience!

Day 4 - Wineglass Bay

The second day of the tour takes you to the Freycinet National Park, where you’ll climb up to a viewpoint to look out over Wineglass Bay. This is another iconic Tasmanian image that’s worth the hike up the mountain. Make sure to wear suitable footwear and be reasonably fit!

Unfortunately, I visited on one of those extremely rare, extremely rainy days and did not get to see the view from the lookout, but honestly the walk was still fun. I got completely soaked through within minutes (imagine jumping into a swimming pool fully clothed) and there were waterfalls running down the mountains. Considering that this rarely ever happens, I felt quite lucky to have seen a side of Freycinet that most people don’t. 

I’m not sure if this applies to me only or if all introverts can relate, but I love the rain. It’s my favourite weather because the world is so much less noisy when it rains. So overall, for me, this was still a great experience.

On a normal, sunny day you’d probably take a nice hike up to the viewpoint, take some pics and then go down to the actual beach of Wineglass Bay for a swim. This would take a few hours and you’d see wallabies and other animals in the park. You’d then head back to Hobart in the afternoon.

Day 5 - Port Arthur 

Port Arthur Historic Site is a little village and historic site which showcases the history of British prisoners and the officers and soldiers stationed there. It’s really well kept and you get a good feeling of how life was back when it was operational. I unexpectedly spent almost all day here as it’s really big and there is just so much to see. Tickets aren’t cheap and additional tours cost extra, but even if you just get general admission it’s worth it. The ticket is valid for 2 days, so you do have the option to return the next day. 

The site is about a 90-minute drive out of Hobart, and it’s definitely worth a visit!

Day 6 - Salamanca Market, MONA

Most people agree that a trip to Hobart wouldn’t be complete without visiting the famous Salamanca Market. This market sells everything from fresh veggies to jewellery to delicious food and drinks. My first stroll through the market took about an hour, that’s how big it is. It’s held every Saturday at Salamanca Place from 8:30am - 3pm. There are some great vegan options if you’re like me and like to eat your way through a market!

If you’re into art, then check out the MONA (Museum of Old and New Art). It’s one of Hobart’s main attractions, a museum built mostly underground that you can get to using their unique ferry. If you’re on a budget just keep the entry and ferry prices in mind, as they’re not cheap. 

The museum is like no other you’ve ever experienced. You won’t find information cards or artists’ names on the walls beside their art, as you’d expect. Instead, you’re given a device (like an old iPhone) that you keep with you as you walk through the exhibits. It has a location service so you can check out any information on anything you’re looking at, including interactive VR stuff. It’s definitely very interesting, but I must admit there were times where I thought “this counts as art?”, but that’s just me. The nice thing is it’s mostly dark everywhere and you don’t have to talk to anyone, so a great thing to do for introverts.

Day 7 - Richmond

I recommend relaxing or doing any small things you didn’t get to do all week on your last day. A tip my AirBnB hosts gave me was a drive to Richmond, a small town about 25 minutes outside of Hobart. It’s got that typical cute, old-timey village feel. There’s a huge lolly shop with so many candy options, the Richmond Bridge which is the oldest stone bridge in Australia, and the Richmond Gaol where they also imprisoned women. For lunch I recommend Czegs’ Cafe. The decor is adorable and they have little outside tables where you can keep away from the masses. The vegan pasta is to die for!

I really hope this little itinerary helps you in your search for the best things to do in Tassie. If you have more time, I hear Launceston is a great place to visit, or even going up the West Coast. I’ll have to check that out the next time I go.