#austrailian men

[habitabel]

Scruffy old men who have sideburns and an Australian accent 😍

[heylabodega]

content warning very straight post during pride month incoming. straight men on tiktok do various 'things girls do that are cute/give guys butterflies/make guys fall in love' video series and they have a range of tones and I want to talk about them.

These two guys did a series like this that they said was in response to some girls doing a 'things guys do that they don't know are hot' video, but the problem is men are incredibly stupid and women have been performing since we were 9 so they were like 'things girls do that they don't know is hot' and it was, like, bite their lip or borrow your t-shirts or touch your arm or something like sweet summer child we absolutely do know that but it was honestly inoffensive because they were so clueless and seemed to genuinely like women.

Then we've got these two INCREDIBLY annoying austrailian guys who seem to be recording a podcast (?) since they're talking into mics but I'm certainly not gonna go see if the podcast actually exists. Anyways they're like 'things girls do that give guys butterflies' and it's 'say don't pick me up i'm so heavy when they actually weigh nothing ' or 'yap' and you're like oh ok you mean very tiny girls you already like but don't respect i hate you little dweebs.

THEN we have the elite, the rare, the ones that actually give me hope of finding love, the men who talk about actual human things the actual women they actually know do that are cool and interesting and you can tell they actually respect women and find these things hot because they happen to be straight. Hard to explain the distinction, but important.

Oh and then there was this guy who did a variation that was like "advice" for how to give guys butterflies and one was like touch his thigh while looking deeply into his eyes like oh wow thanks should I put my hand near a man's crotch to turn him on? Key feedback thanks so much.

[procrazedfan]

10 for Junior. 14 for Chastity. 6 for Poppy. 3 for Lucius

Junior - He is confident and sometimes a bit sassy behind the computer screen/hologram or around his friends. Around his family, he has no self-esteem. His dad has a tendency to pull a Ted Cruz with the Austrailian public and throws his kid under the bus. That combined with sheer neglect/parenting with technology, Seth, his grandparents, and Uncle Pickles have no clue that this kid can talk at all.

Chastity- 5 years ago, she was in the tail end of middle school. She developed early, leading her to be the unwanted object of affection from boys and men and unasked for jealousy from her mom and other girls her age. She never thought she would have genuine guy friends or play in a band.

Poppy- She misses being a Klokateer in that it was a rough and tumble culture where she could express herself more freely with her fists and couldbe more crass, but she also understands that what she is doing is a mission of high importance.

Lucius - He was used to putting his own emotional needs on the backburner to accommodate the intensity of his life, which led to a lack of how to emotionally regulate. So he lets all the feelings sadness, rage, everything, build slowly. When he cries, that's when you know he's at the end of his rope. And he can't stop it. It's the same with his rage.

He gets some emotional regulation when he's with his friends, Sköll, and Poppy, more often, but he has to learn to communicate and be honest with himself and others about how he feels.

[1ddotdhq]

◟̽◞̽ Tues 24 Nov ‘20 🐠

Grammy Nominations and Live Shows OH MY!!

LOUIS’ BACK!!! And I don’t mean “oh he liked something on Instagram” or “oh he tweeted about a RHCP concert”, I mean he’s going to be doing a VEEPS LIVESHOW! And so we solve the mystery of the Spotify vids (they were a stage!): a few hours before the announcement, he tweeted, “Hope you’re all doing alright. Exciting stuff coming up!!”, and then left the masses to wonder what could possibly be happening and when. Three anxious hours later: “So excited to announce that I’m getting my band and crew back together to put on a special show for you all that will be streamed December 12 [!!!adkhfkadhfjj!!!] and will be available for 28 hours after. The show will support 5 important causes very close to my heart”. The causes Louis Tomlinson Live From London will support are FareShare (they redistribute food to communities in need), CrewNation (the LiveNation COVID crew fund), StageHand (similar to CrewNation, but UK based), Bluebell Wood Children’s Hospice, and paying Louis' own touring crew! The tickets go on sale TOMORROW. If you can't afford one, Luke Massie (founder and CEO of Vibe Tickets) is giving funds away on twitter to fans who want to watch the show! “I’ll do my best to help as many of you as I can see him and his amazing crew perform,” he said. Louis has said that there is no cap on the ticket sales, so I’m taking him at his word and hoping that Veeps is prepared for what's about to happen (they're REALLY not lol.)

And that’s not all!! The press release for the show promised “songs from… ‘Walls”...alongside a few surprises” (I - could it - new music????), as well as “an exclusive range of new merchandise” that comes out tomorrow! The merch proceeds will go to the charities listed above. And! The Telegraph published an interview! Louis promises AN UPCOMING NEW ALBUM (“I had basically penciled down a plan before corona took over our lives”). He says again that he wants to move into the KMM style rock sound, “I think there were some songs where I took slightly more risk and owned what I love, saying, this is who I want to be..there is a certain energy in [KMM], in its delivery, in its attitude, that I want to recreate. People are struggling at the moment so I want to create a raucous, exciting atmosphere in my live show, not a somber, thoughtful one.” He says that he wants this next album to be more optimistic, because that is who he is, but new songwriting is HARD during a pandemic: for him (like for all of us), his days have fallen into a routine, and so he has no ‘new experiences’ to draw from. And, once again, Louis brings up John Frusciante and how he “fucking wishes” he could chat with him. Louis - drop your RHCP stan account PLEASE! We also learned that fans were RIGHT in speculating that he’s been in LA recently (though likely not for the reason the Telegraph wants us to think). About his travels, Louis says, “[The spot he goes to] is remote and kind of weird, and I’m going to go there for three days and write. I don’t know why I’m so drawn to it... it’s got some very interesting (peculiar?) locals who live there...it feels like you’re going back in time when you’re there.” ANY COMMENT, @/visiteroda??? And, in a rare look ahead, Louis reveals that he wants to manage an all-women’s rock band playing instruments (hey, friend, you know where women could play instruments? YOUR OWN BAND, MY DUDE! Just a suggestion). He said that his process with Syco had become “challenging and frustrating” because the kinds of artists he wants to develop aren’t “ready-made” - he sees a lot of artists that were “rough and ready” but labels want to see “something that works straight away”. But with Syco dust in the wind he can get back to it: HELL YEAH! The band he’s currently got his eyes on is Fickle Friends (an indie Brighton all-female rock band); he says this is the kind of band he wants to manage, “because there’s no one in that space. And I know eventually if I don’t do it, someone else will!”. Guys, I say this a lot, but really, Louis is about to make some WAVES in that space and I can’t WAIT to see it play. But first the concert, please!

AND!!!!!! Harry has been NOMINATED FOR THREE FUCKING GRAMMYS!! GUYS, HE MADE IT! The categories he is up for are: Best Music Video (Adore You - the TASTE), Best Pop Solo Performance (Watermelon Sugar), and BEST POP VOCAL ALBUM! I know that we’re always like, Grammys mean nothing, and how can we feel otherwise 1D was never nominated, but this is a MILESTONE in his career, and I am so happy to see his work getting the recognition it deserves! There were no nominations for him in the general field this year (artist or record of the year) BUT just you WAIT. Everything that Harry does makes me think that he is gearing up for a very long and successful career and I am. Very Happy for him. And so is everyone else! Harry’s friends, family, colleagues, and labels have all been quick to congratulate him on his well deserved recognition. In other Harry news, we got some stills from an Austrailian movie called “Holding the Man” which bear remarkable similarities to the Golden music video. (Were Harry's Vans really in there as a tribute to the film or did that part just work out very well for him??) The movie and the song don’t have anything in common thematically except being gay, but it really looks like a visual homage to this film (or, my personal theory, a fix-it fic to give it a happy ending!). And! Harry was papped on the DWD set with Florence Pugh again today, in a suit and an opulent background - it’s hard to make out Harry’s face, but I think we can guess that it's beaming in pride, as it should be.

GQ Spain did a piece on Liam’s Hugo capsule, praising it for being “the utilitarian style” (“the star trend of 2020”). They’re very nice about it, and seem to be genuinely interested and like the color scheme of the clothes: “the monocolor look...is an irrefutable argument in men’s clothing”. They also praise the collection for being an example that “you don’t need to spend hours in front of a mirror to dress like the best dressed men on the planet”. All of these were meant to be compliments, I SWEAR! Niall was around on Twitter yesterday, reminiscing about the time when some fans asked Justin Beiber to take pictures of them with Niall, it's true Niall that IS hilarious and also good psychic timing: that's EXACTLY how relevant Justin Beiber should be (yes I AM bitter the Weeknd was ROBBED). He also congratulated Shawn Mendes for his documentary, “So proud of this boy. He’s smashed it and always so humble. Well done to everyone involved.X”. I have not seen this documentary but if there are any more “Camila Cabello orders bananas at sushi restaurants moments” PLEASE let me know!

[rita-remade]

good morning to boston boys who can double jump, patriotic men who can rocket jump, mfrs that wear gas masks and set shit on fire, the black scottish cyclops thats blows up shit for a living, fat men that are in love with their miniguns, texan manlets with 11 phds in engineering, slutty german doctors with pet birds, lonely austrailians who are constantly harassed by spies and somehow weaponized piss jars, and stinky french people who can go invisible and kill with a single backstab xoxo

[pandaioh]

POLY!ROADRAT WITH MUTE!FEMALE READER CRUMBS

“Damn it, escortin that payload was a crock a shit!” Junkrat and Roadhog had just landed back on base with the rest of the Overwatch crew that was sent on yet another “Payload” mission. This mission in particular was almost a complete failure, if Junkrat hadn’t used his RIP-tire on the omnic drones right at the last minute, almost completely obliterating him. Luckily for the Junkers they left with only a few scratches and bruises, obviously used to the high octane violence. Now that their mission was completed, they can earn their pay and be on leave for the rest of the week, letting some other poor sap get blown to smithereens.

They both limped and hobbled through the halls of Gibraltar, heading to their living quarters, where they could finally be rid of their explosives and weapons for the time-being. The walk there, however, was a tad unpleasant considering some of the dirty looks and awkward expressions the Junkers received as they walked on through the base’s multiple corridors. Junkrat lowered his head as he heard the quiet and curt murmurs of the other Overwatch personnel. He could’ve shouted, could’ve thrown a punch or use his grenade launcher and put those sorry bastards out of their misery, but he was too damn tired to really care. He just wanted to relax. Aggressive snorts and snarls escaped Roadhog as he lifted his hook threateningly.

“Save it, Roadie.” Junkrat hushed hoarsely. “S’not worth the time or day, not when we have our misso to get back to….” Junkrat grinned slightly. Roadhog sheathed his weapon and went back to accompanying his partner. Underneath his heavy intimidating mask, he too, grinned slightly at the idea of the both of them going home to their beloved treasure; you.

You were the only one that saw past their unrestrained exteriors and their pitiful pathos. It was you that gave them the second chance of living that no one, not even anyone of their own kind would ever think to give two lowly bruisers. It was you that gave them that little glimmering light of hope and happiness that there was and is someone out there that actually gives a damn about the both of them. It was you that took both of their hands and held on for dear life and lead them into the path of vindication and equity. You, unknowingly, saved them. And the two Junkers would forever be in your debt because of that.

After a couple more steps, they finally walked along the hall that lead to their and your living quarters. Hoisting his grenade launcher over his shoulder, Junkrat spat onto his fleshed hand and with that, used it to slick his hair back, parodically for a more suave look, wanting to impress you. Roadhog rolled his eyes under his mask and placed his Scrap Gun, back into his hoister.

“She sees you everyday, Rat,” Hog grunted. “Don’t need to try an’ impress her.” “Says you!” Junkrat scoffed. “If I want ta groom meself for our lil love, than groom I shall!” “You know, grooming actually requires more than just your spit,” Hog responded. “It requires basic hygine, which we both know isn’t your strong suit.”

Junkrat felt disgruntled at his partner’s straightforward response, he huffed and stomped to the front of their door. “Well,” He started. “We’ll just see what Y/N thinks about the hard working, handsome, strong rouge that is Jamison Fawkes!” He manically giggled as he reached his prosthetic hand to knock on the door, but found that it swung open to reveal your face covered in unknown substances and by the look of it…sprinkles? You quickly placed your hands on his face and kissed him. Wide eyed and completely taken back, Junkrat wrapped his arms around you and placed another tender kiss on your forehead. “Well that was a fine ‘how do ya do?’ sweets!” He grinned wildly and you giggled as his face turned a flush of red. You then turned to Roadhog, who was already in the process of taking off his infamous mask, revealing the tender yet broken-scarred face you’ve come to adore and love.  

“Hey, Y/N…” he softly smiled. He took you into his big arms and kissed you deeply, parting and then placed a small kiss on your nose. His massive index finger caressed the side of your smooth warm cheeks, sketching your face into his memory. Something, however, caught his eye and took a small grain of a colored speck off your cheek. It was comically, too small for him to carry in between his thumb and index and it broke into dust. You had little particles of these colored grains in patches of your short curly pixie cut, on your blouse, on your apron and some on your jeans.

“Speakin’ of ‘sweets’,” Junkrat spoke. “Got hundreds and thousands all over ya, love. Like a sweety treat I want to eat.” He hugged you from behind, but hearing that sentence prompt you to whip around and sign them to close their eyes. The Junkers looked at each other and back to you, unknowing of what you had in store for them.

You signed to them with body language, placing your hands over your eyes and peeked through your digits. Junkrat tilted his head confused at what you were implying.

“Ah huh, ya playin peekaboo with us? Yer too adorable, y’know that?” he chuckled as his flesh hand ruffled your curly hair. Making an irritated noise you shook your head, indicating that wasn’t what you were saying. You took Junkrat’s hand and placed it over his own eyes. You made an adorable little noise up at Roadhog who smiled lightly understanding what your motive was.

“Got a surprise for us?” He whispered. You chirped and nodded your head excitedly. “A surprise!?” Junkrat exclaimed. “I love surprises, lil love! What is it? What is it!?” You blew the lanky junker a raspberry, placing as hand back over his eyes so that he dared not to peek. “If she told you,” Roadhog grunted. “It wouldn’t be a surprise.” Placing his own hand back over his eyes. You made a sound agreeing with the goliath junker and took both of their free hands, leading them into your living area. Whipping your head back to see if their eyes were still closed, you saw that they were and you smiled and giggled. You lead them to two seats and had them sit down.

“Can we look yet?” Junkrat asked almost too quickly, trying to peek through his fingers Roadhog placed his free hand forcefully on Junkrat’s face and he heard his partner grumbling lowly. They heard the sounds of dishes being placed on the table in front of them and liquid being poured into glasses. A few seconds later, you straightened your apron and grinned proudly. You made a noise, indicating that they could open. Upon finally having to look, they were both greeted by an all too familiar Austrailian snack, two tall stacks of bread with sprinkles scattered on every piece and two glasses of milk for them to drink; Fairy bread. You surprised them with fairy bread. Anyone outside of the old aussie tradition would’ve scoffed and given you a grimace, but the Junkers, to them, this was absolutely harmonious. It was this little act of goodwill and affection that just made them fall for you even more than what they already have. You even went the extra mile and placed a vase with a flower in the middle along with a note that read;

“~For all the wonderful things you do for me.~”                                                Y/N

“Tah dah!” you shrieked and then bashfully looked down at your feet, swaying side to side, awaiting to hear the responses from your two favorite men.

“Hooly dooly, love.” Junkrat said flabbergasted. “You did all of this, for us?” You nodded your head, making your way over to him and gave him a big hug. “To you.” You signed. Junkrat looked back at his stack of fairy bread, practically drooling over. “This is fantastic love, you’re the best, sweets! Wow, you really do live up to that nickname, don’tcha? Sweets to the sweet as the old sayin goes!” He took a piece of bread, sprinkles already starting to fall off the top. “Oi, Roadie, bettah start munchin on this, Y/N probably took forever to make this all fo-“ He was cut off as he turned his head to face Roadhog, expression immediately gone from happy to worried.

There was Roadhog, still sitting there, staring at his stack of fairy bread. Not moving, not budging, mouth slightly agape. He was completely froze, save for the staggering anxious breaths he breathed out. He tried to remain still but felt this new wave of anxiousness override his body and started to shake. Junkrat, leaned back in his seat, not knowing of what his partner would do. Junkrat never recalled a time ever in his life seeing Roadhog this distressed and perturbed. It was almost as if the big guy saw a ghost that gave him a spook. It almost gave the younger junker a spook himself.

You now looked just as worried as Junkrat, wanting to be by Roadhog’s side, but not wanting to interfere if he needed space. The both of you watched as Roadhog reached a gigantic palm out to grab a piece of fairy bread, and trembled even more as he brought it closer to him. He opened and closed his eyes a few times, making sure if what he was seeing was real or not. He opened and closed a few more times, just to be for certain. The next few times he opened and closed was when he felt warm wet streaks glide down slowly on his cheeks. He took a bite into the bread, tasting the sugary sweet beads of the sprinkles, the smooth creamy texture of the margarine and the flakey yet satisfying starch of the bread. All at once, the memories came flooding back into his head.

“Mako…”

He shoved more bread into his mouth, like a starving dingo.

“Mako?...”

Crumbs and sprinkles were scattering all around his feet and chair.

“MAKO!...”

He slammed his fist into the table and sobbed out loud uncontrollably. He remembered who he was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A rather large woman with long dark braided hair, a long white farm apron on top a floral patterned mumu dress, waddled her way through the dirt path of her small one cottage, two barn farmland, carrying a plate of fairy bread and being accompanied by a tiny trotting micro piglet, snorting and squealing merrily as it followed it’s master.

“Mako?” the woman cried out. “Mako!”

Making her way inside one of the barns, she opened the barn doors and looked all around the inside, finally catching glimpse of who she was trying to find. A small chubby boy curled up in a fetel position, laying on a big pile of hay, sniffling and lightly sobbing. Her expression softened with sympathy as she sighed and waddled her way to her son. When she got to him, she slowly tried to sit on the pile of hay with him, almost getting winded and out of breath. However, this didn’t seem to phase her and trying to comfort the little one.

“Taku tama,” she said softly. “Why are you all dirty?”

“Kaiwhakaweti…” a young Mako hiccupped.

“Karanga ahau poaka….toru paru…” he peeked his chubby face up at his mother, revealing that his face was too covered in mud along with the rest of his clothes. His mother took part of her apron and lifted the boys chin up to face her, wiping away the debris of mud and tears off his face. He still sniffled lightly and looked up at his mother completely torn and broken hearted.

“Mako, He hae ratou I to aura,” she began to speak in their native tongue. “He poto noa iho te hunga whakaweti.” Mako looked up at his mother intently, listening and holding on to every single word. “Tuhinga ka whai mai. Engari ko te aroha me te tiaki mai I te whanau me nga hoa ka mau tonu.”

Mako stared at her wide eyed and continued to listen.

“Ma te whanau e tiaki koe.” She continued. “Ana ka tae ki tetahi ra me tiaki e koe.”

Mako looked down at the micro piglet now sitting in front of him, still happily and snorting away. 

His mother picked up the piglet, and placed the adorable snorting baby in his lap, planting a kiss on his forehead. “Kia maumahara ki taku tama,” she said softly. Mako looked up from petting his piglet.

“Nui toku aroha ki a koe…” She picked up the plate of fairy bread and handed it to him. He smiled and happily ate the bread with his little piglet taking small nibbles out of a few pieces. He felt so much better now, he felt as if he could stand on top of the tallest mountains and swim across the deepest and farthest of oceans. He felt as if every little worry on his mind was fading into each bite of fairy bread his mama made especially for him. He felt all the cares and worries and griefs dry away along with his tears. He chewed and chewed and he felt…. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miserable…he felt miserable. His fist was balled tightly on the cracked table top. His hair was out of his pony tail and his eyes were red with puff and irritation. You and Junkrat were huddled together in a corner at the very oppisite end of the room were Roadhog was. You had tears stream down your face and you hiccuped a few anxious breaths. Rat on the other hand held on to you, practically sheilding you from the gigantic man in fear of what he might do next.

Mako unballed his fist slowly and shaking, revealing the wad of sprinkles and crumbs in his massive palm. His breaths were deep and asthmatic.

More flashbacks appeared in his head, more of his mother, the omnics taking over, the Australian Liberation Front, Bruce the Engineer supplying him with his “Hogsygen”, the shitty queen and her shitty people practically dancing on top the countless graves uncaring of how they died protecting their land. It all came back to him, and it all came back to him in that slowly unballing crumbling piece of fairy bread.

You didn’t mean to, but a loud sob slipped from your vocal chords and you ran to Roadhog, so concerned and apologetic for placing him in such a wretched state. You ran right to his side and cried over his shoulder. You didn’t know how to put into words that you were so sorry for making him so upset. He slowly looked up at you, his eyes still red and puffy but he took you in his arms, perhaps to quickly and harshly.

Junkrat imediately ran over thinking that you were in some sort of danger. But as quickly as he ran, he stopped. He saw his partner take your hands into his large ones and placed them over his face. Your thumbs wiping away the tears out of his eyes. You looked at him full of fear and wonder, and watched as he leaned his head into your hands, like a cat in need of affection. Junkrat, taking a deep breath of relief walked over to his two partners and placed an awkward pat on Roadhog’s shoulder.

“Uh there…there, mate,” Junkrat said softly trying to in his own way express sympathy on behalf of his depressed partner. “Yea sometimes, we all need a good cry now and again…you jus’ let it all out…”

Roadhog took the opportunity to pull his lanky partner in with you and him in a warm loving embrace.  It startled Junkrat at first but then warmed up to it when you placed your hand onto his arm. There, the three of you were, at the kitchen table, holding on to one another, comforting your much bigger partner and letting him cry out the last of his tears.

“Toku whanau…” he stuttered softly. Both you and Junkrat looked at him, with your hands placed back onto his warm wet face. “I love you with all of my heart and soul. And I will protect you always. Tena kaua e wehi I ahua…”

He took you and pulled you in for a deep kiss. And he did the same for Junkrat, although this took the junker off guard but was more than happy to reciprocate his feelings. He had you both on either side of his lap. And the three of you cuddled together there all the while. You signed to him when he looked back up to you. “I’m so sorry…”

“No aroha, s’not your fault,” he said. “It was overwhelming, yeah, but I loved it…a lot. Haven’t had it in a…long time.” His head leaned onto your chest, and you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, well how’s about the next time Y/N gives us a surprise, you don’t have another mental breakdown arroight?” Junkrat replied jokingly.

“Yeah that sounds good,” Hog replied as he chuckled.

The three of you stayed like this for a little while longer, uncaring of the mess at the table. Uncaring of all the sprinkles and crumbs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  Maori dialouge in English:

“My son” “Bullies…called me a pig…threw mud…” “Mako, they are jealous of your aura. Bullies are fleeting. Bullies will come and go. But the love and protection from your family and friends is forever. The family will take care of you. And then one day, you will need to protect them. Remember my son, I love you so much.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~ “My family.” “Please don’t fear me.”

[kittikiii]

comparing my biases because why not

GDragon - rapper / leader - YG - korean - doesnt speak english

Bobby - rapper - YG - korean raised in US - speaks english

Rose - vocal / dancer - YG - kiwi - speaks english

CL - leader / rapper - YG - korean - speaks english

Bang Chan - leader - JYP - austrailian - speaks english 

Jackson - rapper - JYP - chinese - speaks english

Jae - vocal / rapper - JYP - american - duh he speaks english

S.coups - leader / rapper - PLEDIS - korean - doesnt speak english

Mingyu - rapper / visual - PLEDIS - korean - doesnt speak english

Jooheon - rapper - starship - korean - speaks english

I.M - rapper / maknae - starship - korean - speaks english

Jungkook - vocalist / maknae - BigHit - korean - no but he tries

V - vocalist / visual - BigHit - korean - nope

Jaehyun - vocalist - SM - korean raised in US - speaks english

Johnny - rapper / vocalist - SM - american - do i gotta tell you?

Mark - rapper / leader (OT7 dream gang) - SM - canadian - speaks in yO WHAT

Sehun - rapper / maknae / dancer - SM - korean - doesnt but he knows f*ck

Jonghyun - vocal - SM - korean - doesnt speak english except g’day mate

Key - rapper - SM - korean - hEs from nEw yOrk, eAst sIDE hOney

heechul - vocal - SM - korean - he was an english major but he doesnt speak english

BM - rapper / dancer - DSP Media - american - do i gotta tell you

Woosung - leader / vocal - J&Star - american - duh

hyuna - leader / rapper / vocal - Pnation / cube - korean - nope

Jessi - rapper - pnation - american - yes 

Zico - rapper / leader - KOZ / seven seasons / stardom ent. - korean - studied abroad in canada so i guess?? i never heard him speak it tho

this aint all the groups and artists i like but its enough. so now were doing the summary

I mostly bias men (like that wasn’t obvious) with 21 men and only 4 women on my list (i don’t really stan any girl groups, im sorry)

I mostly bias rappers (18 rappers, damn), followed by 10 vocals, 8 leaders, 3 maknaes, 3 dancers and 2 visuals.

16 korean, 1 kiwi, 1 aussie, 1 chinese, 6 americans (im actually surpised by this summary. i thought i’d mostly go for the foreign members but maybe not)

16 people i bias speak english

most of my biases are SM (7), and 14 of my biases are from Big3

[surgeratesfucko]

personal post feel free to not read or do im not the boss of you

To preface: this rant is literally the most inconsequential first world problems shit out there and this whole post is very very cringe. possibly incomprehensible because i can’t fucking think. read at your own risk. also: any advice is appreciated. 

so im gonna go over to a friend’s house in about half an hour and im feeling really nervous because i asked them to shave my head. my mom’s kinda weird about me doing anything to my appearance. i haven’t gotten a professionally done haircut since, like eighth grade. the whole idea of getting a haircut seems way too personal for me. like in the picture of dorian gray, when basil makes the painting and refuses to show it because “there’s too much of himself in it”. Sorry if this is really incoherent. What im trying to say is that i am afraid that my family will make assumptions about me, try to interpret me, once i shave my head. like there’s something about a haircut that says “i have emotions and a lot of them in fact and they’re disgusting little emotions too”. Seeing as i would literally rather die than talk about my feelings with my parents, you can probably see why this is a problem. 

Basically: on the one hand, I really hate having long hair because it makes me more dysphoric than you an even imagine. On the other hand, wanting things is cringe. 

On top of that, I know for a fact that my parents aren’t going to react well. About a year ago i shaved a slit in my eyebrow, and my mom totally freaked out when she saw it. She said it looked horrible and I think she cried a little. She calmed down pretty quick tho and apologized, but she never once said she liked it. She’s usually a tad controlling of my appearance. The last couple of times I’ve had to get new glasses, she basically picked out the frames for me and only wanted my stamp of approval. The most recent time, however, she was still in her appointment when I picked out my frames. I got these really ugly jeffry dahmer ass transgender glasses (you know they type) and the lady was like um okay thats weird but whatever. She also offered to take me to the mens section which i am eternally greatful for thank you glasses lady i love you with my whole heart, even though I didn’t end up picking mens glasses. anyway, when my mom got out of her appointment she naturally went a bit crazy. she said my glasses looked horrible, how could i even think they looked good on me etc. The lady was also clearly uncomfortable with how my mom was acting. Anyway, I stood my ground and ended up getting the glasses. When the arrived a week or so later, my mom profusely apologized and said they looked great. She was offended when I didn’t believe her. One time, I bought this wonderfully late 2000s flannel hoodie (think jesse pinkman) and she ruthlessly mocked me for being a lumbersexual, which just feels like a homophobic slur. Anyway, my mom feels entitled to spout negative opinions about things I like, and thinks nothing of it. There’s a whole host of other situations like these, but that basically sums up what I think her reaction will be.

As for my dad, last october, I asked my parents if I could shave my head and they wanted me to show them pictures of women with shaved heads so I did. My dad thought it was funny, and then he tried to get me to watch boys don’t cry with him (a movie where a trans man is brutally raped and murdered, told as a lesbian romance by it’s terf ass director, although many trans men like the film because it’s literally the only transmasc representation in cinema) because i was “into that sort of thing”. Movies are the only way my dad really knows how to communicate, and he was genuinely trying to be supportive, but he’s just kinda ignorant. (like when i bought docs, he tried to make me watch romper stomper with him, a movie about austrailian nazi punks).

anyway, i know for a fact that they are not going to be happy about me shaving my head, or at least that their reactions will be really hurtful to me personally. I don’t really know how I should react, but i figure it’s better to be prepared for rejection than to let it blindside me. I know shit like this is literally the most whiny bitchy white girl ass problem, so that’s why its under a read more. wahhh my mommy doesn’t like my haircut, meanwhile other queer kids are getting kicked out onto the streets. I get it. Anyway, I’ll update later with their reactions. 

[mikenewtonhateblog]

My oc’s aka too long of a gd post

The “BL” Crew (does not stand for boys love I’m just a moron who made that abbreviation before knowing what it stands for). My main crew and main series, a lot is a big WIP right now as I’m slowly redoing the first book and all the lore. Why? I love torture. Book is fantasy type but I won’t specify what.

Lacie, the protagonist. God tier idiot, bisexual bipolar depressed MESS, insomniac, former theater kid, doesn’t know what she wants out of life but currently it is not This(plot of book). Hot headed, impulsive, crude, rude, Mommy IssuesTM, would rather be taking a nap right now, rules are made to be broken, absolutely fucking FERAL, more bags under her eyes than the airport lost and found. 5’5, 130lbs, Aries, age 18, white as shit like literally the whitest human you have ever seen, strawberry blonde hair in a 2011 Hayley Willaims haircut with long bangs, the darkest brown eyes you’ve ever seen that stare directly into your soul. Lanky, no curves, body of a 12 year old boy but works out so she can and will kick your ass and thats a threat. Not human?

Josh. Soft boy, smart, Lacie’s cousin and only friend for like the first 18 years of her life, autistic anxious mess who’s special interest is anchient egyptian history, is in honors classes, despises math, passes out when his girlfriend looks too cute, just needs a hug. Can eat a whole carton of easy mac if left alone, whole wardobe is the same outfit just different colors/hoodies, sensory issues, seriously can someone give this guy a hug. 5’9, 150lbs, Pisces, age 18, mixed (half whatever flavor of white Lacie’s family is [they don’t even know its just some scandanavian shit and irish], and half mexican on his mom’s side), medium olive skin with freckles and moles, dark chocolate brown hair that’s a bit of a 2009 Beiber cut, warm brown eyes, not beefy, a lil thicc and self concious about it but squishy boys are GOOD. Gets bit by a werewolf so now he is one his mood on it is “thats a lot to unpack but let’s just throw the whole suitcase away”.

Zander. There is not one braincell in this man, himbo KING, pansexual dumbass with undiagnosed ADHD, no impulse control, head empty and full at the same time, PTSD, his fashion sense should be an actual crime, gets in fights to feel something, basic requirements for him to be attracted to you: kick his ass. Drinks his respect women juice, sees a folding table and must immediately launch himself on it, chaotic, cannot drive a car and will not, food aggression and eats enough for 3 people but never gains weight which is ILLEGAL, him and Lacie may be a couple.....but in this house we stan slow burn, he talks in caps and every sentence either ends with a question mark or exclaimation point, likes romcoms. 6’2, 190lbs, Sagittarius, age 19, austrailian roots and has the accent but is from [REDACTED FOR STORY REASONS], white, dorito shaped with long legs, blueish black hair that’s long and messy, dark navy eyes that match his hair, bigass neck scar from [REDACTED]. Not human

Peter. Gay dad friend who is TIRED of having to be in charge of a bunch of teenagers, only one with full functioning braincells, lowkey a genius who loves engineering, mixes magical technology with human technology because he likes to play god, is he ever sober? No one knows, will kill for a bottle of single malt, his fashion sense? Tastefully expensive suits perfectly tailored. Likes building his own weapons that no one else knows how to even use, generally non-threatening but can get scary if needed. 6’4, 140lbs string bean man, Scorpio, age 179 but looks early 30s, I know I said Lacie is the whitest human but he’s even paler like a literal sheet of paper with scandanavian roots/ancestors were vikings or some shit, blonde hair styled like 2013 Brendon Urie lmfao, light crystal blue eyes. He’s a vampire and was born one.

Danielle. Tiny, sweet, queen of girls supporting girls, comments on all her friends instagram posts with 20 emojis, LOVES fashion and has a wardrobe that would make anyone jealous, oozes feminine energy, only child and parents are in love still, gets exactly 8 hours of sleep each night and wakes up looking like a disney princess. Just because she is small and cute doesn’t mean you should underestimate her she WILL fuck your shit up. Quiet when angey which is terrifying. Josh is her bf and she loves him so much but also loves teashing the shit out of him. Legally cannot cuss, polite, used her high heels as a weapon once, speaks like 5 languages because studying them is her hobby, gardens, hugs everyone. 5’0, 110, Taurus, age 18, mixed (half french-american, half Korean-american), glowy skin always, PETITE frame aka the friend everyone can pick up when they hug, long past her waist curly brown hair, bright green eyes. She’s not fully human as she has fae blood in her and this gives her the ability to talk to and control plants. Flower crowns for everyone

Becca. Theater kid who would die to sing in Wicked and has the vocal range to do so, cannot wait to graduate and go to her dream college which she got into and a scholarship, closeted lesbian bc her whole giant family is extremely catholic and she feels like not dealing with it, “no boys allowed in bedroom” rule is her favorite joke, chill, middle child of 5 siblings and just wants some peace and quiet for ONCE. Her fashion sense is “I’m dropping subtle hints I’m gay but only to other gays”, has a black belt and took self defense classes. 5’6, 145lbs, Virgo, age 18, Latina (cuban and mexican mix), darker brown skin with light freckles over her nose, athletic build, eyebrows on POINT, bright caramel eyes, short light brown hair cut in a bob, has a tiny nose stud, always wears a blue friendship bracelet her gf made her. Human

Anika. Calling her a bitch/slut is a compliment, bisexual, a bit of a mean girl but she grows out of it give her time!!! Is always Too Much, the horny friend, favorite color is red so thats almost all of her outfits, loves to show off her body as much as she can because she’s hot and knows it and thrives in her own confidence. Her mom is literally like Regina George’s mom from Mean Girls but married a rich man 20 years older than her, Anika doesn’t know her bio dad but thats fine neither does her mom and her step dad is nice and does his best to be a dad. Becca’s gf, always hanging out at her home so Becca can get some quiet because Anika’s an only child and has a pool. 5’9, 135lbs, Gemini, age 18, white, long layered dark reddish brown hair, teal-blue eyes, swimmers body type (I normally do not mention bust size but she would want the internet to know she was blessed with big bahoogles so there you go), can sprint in heels. Half mermaid (boy was that a surprise considering her mom doesn’t know who her father is LOL)

Rex. Nb uses they/them he/him pronouns but honestly will respond to any, goth lite, only attracted to men and ace, can read minds so knows all your secrets, mischevious little shit, great friends with Zander and enjoys his dumbass thoughts and that he’s basically a human version of Jackass, wears too many rings, goth boots for kicking and fashion babey, always has the freshest memes and will not hesitate to roast in the group chat, hangs with the girls most of the time. Chaos god who loves making art, be gay do crime, skateboard and spraypaint. 5’8”, 165lbs, Leo, age 18, Native American, masculine frame, dark brown skin, blue eyes, firetruck red shoulder length hair that’s usually in a ponytail, knock-off gucci sunglasses just for judging their friends. Has magic in their blood so not entirely human and can cast spells and shit (don’t roast me its a wip and I’m doing my research)

Sam. Boho goddess, aromantic, makeup and nails are always instagram worthy, quiet and stoic type but losens up around close friends, Rex is her best friend, has some trauma and doesn’t want to talk about it, emotionally numbed out a bit and wants to purely vibe. Has seen some of the worst parts of humanity and wishes she hadn’t, finds no point in being bitter or resentful though because that won’t change anything, loves cats and once she moves out shes adopting one or three. Has wine aunt energy. 5’4, 200lbs PLUS SIZE QUEEN, Scorpio, age 18, Filipino (her parents are immigrants fun fact!), really olive skin sometimes has a grey/green tinge to it, dark brown almost black shoulder length hair, gold-hazel eyes. Sam’s the victim of a family curse that requires her to consume human hearts to survive, she can transform into a pretty scary looking being and uses this curse to hunt down pedoph*les, r*pists, murderers, and abusers. The less often she feeds the less human she looks, hence the constant grey/green tinge to her skin. 

Andy. Baby of the group, must be protected at all costs, 100% didn’t sign up to be in a friendgroup of 90% monsters but highkey loves it, trans, bi, anxiety MAXED, just wants to draw comics and cosplay spiderman, has to babysit his two younger sisters a lot because his parents are....not great, and as a result now knows all the lines to Tangled and The Little Mermaid. Big nerd energy, has to draw on everything including homework, gets inspiration for comics from his friends, awkward and socially anxious, drinks way too much tea and will accidentally steal your pens. Fears include: crowds, thunder, tall angry men, tiny spaces. Just trying his best. 5’2, 100lbs BEANPOLE BOY, Leo, age 16, white (irish and scottish roots), freckles absolutely EVERYWHERE, orangey red hair thats in desperate need of a haircut, chocolate brown eyes, braces, chronic nail biter. Human and kinda wishes he wasn’t.

That’s it for now if you read all this bless u thank u here is my whole heart. Please no discourse, literally these are fictional people I’ll never publish the books they go to.

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Alright, everyone, this is a personal post as much as it’s a public post so feel free to scroll all the way down to the  colored text for the public part of the message but if you, like me, enjoy drama, then continue on!

So, to make a very, very, very long story short for those who don’t know, I call my birth mother Mother Gothel due to her emotionally abusive upbringing of me that caused me to suffer from severe depression, anxiety, and even hair loss! A few years ago, back in 2016, my friend-turned-sister drove down with her mother, packed me and my bags up, and gave me a place to live and start over where I’ve been able to get jobs, go to school, and become much healthier than I used to be! 

During those years of growth and recovery, however, I kept in contact with Gothel through emails and the occasional phone call. Over the years, from the safety of being hundreds of miles away, I told her that I was gay and dating a girl. The resulting emails were not pleasant and she had no problems about calling my girlfriend a whore. Lovely, right? 

Every email she has sent me has contained detailed bible quotes and scripture and needles of guilt over everything I’m doing “wrong.” She’s still “so proud of me,” however. So at least there’s that, right? 

As of recently I emailed her and told her that I will be attending a four-year university in Tacoma Washington (moving away from Illinois) to continue my education. Her resulting email was lengthy. Here is some of it - cut for length.

Hi Michelle.

... 

You have to watch everything you say this day and time, at least that is what Jesus said in the Book of Matthew 5:37-- "Let your Yes be Yes, and let your No be No. Anything else is from the evil one." (anotherwords the devil will take your words you speak and trip and mess you up land you in jail or prison for 10 yrs)That would be really sad after you work so hard for an education and degrees then let him mess you up but read in John 10:10--the enemy comes to steal--kill--destroy--but Jesus said I have come so that you may have life and have it more abundantly.  That is why Jesus said in Proverbs 18:21" Life and death are in the power of the tongue"

...

I was telling Mom on the phone just this morning we talked for two hours-- that I was going to get a restaurant job here as soon as possible and let it move me out of here--I am moveing to Battle Creek or Marshall by Sept (labor day) and that I was sooo excited that I would finally get to see you, she said either her or Carl would drive me to [REDACTED] every now and then to see you. So Yes, I feel like a bomb was just dropped on me, my heart is broken, however I hope you will be happy and I wish you well in body and spirit-- I wish you nothing but the best. Just know one thing is for sure, I read my Bible and I will tell you right now, we are living in our last days you need to be concerned about where you are going to spend eternity. I just finished up reading the book of Matthew. In Matthew 21:25 The Heading Reads: "The Coming of the Son of Man" vs 25- And their will be signs in the Sun, the Moon, the Stars--mens hearts will fail them for fear and the expectation of those things which are coming on the earth, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. vs 27--THEN they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with Power and Great Glory. Now when these things begin to happen, look up and list up your heads, because your redemption draws near". Jesus said He would give us signs in the Heavens above and the earth beaneath. All of the earthquakes that have been happening for the last decade leading up to the Austrailian wildfires, and billions of animals died, God is giving us the signs, its just like He said in Matthew 24:36-44. 

Lastly, 1 Thessalonians 4 :13--But I do not want you to be ignorant brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God wil bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus. For this we say to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord will by no means precede those who are asleep. For the Lord Himself will descend from Heaven With A SHOUT--with the voice of an archangel, and with the Trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rist first. Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And thus we shall always be with the Lord, Therefore Comfort one another with these words.

After the Rapture, then comes the tribulation. I have read Revelation many times and to say the least you don't want to be left behind.  In Heaven their will be 30 mins of silence that is when all Hell breaks loose down here. Just whatever you do, Do NOT take the mark of the beast if you do, then you will mark your soul for eternal damnation. Then you will hear the devil say----"Hello! Welcome to Hell!

I am saying all of this bcuz now you have a choice to live for God or for Satan. If something should happen to your body or God forbid but if someone tries to take your life or you get in an accident and your heart is not right with God--That is exactly how you will stand at the Judgement Bar. The minute you take your last breath in this body, you will be ushered into the presence of God then it is too late to make a decision there it is if the Angel does not find your name in the Book of Life, then the devil stands there waiting to escourt you to------Well lets just say---You Don't want to go there. But the Bible says you will answer for every deed done in the body good and bad.I know one thing, it can't be too much longer according to scripture. The greatest tool the enemy uses from his toolbox is that you have plenty of time--well I can say the devil is a liar cuz Jesus just says--Be Ready it is not up to us how long we get to stay down here, that is God's calling.Second Timothy 3----But know this, that in the last days perilous times will come. For men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, unloving, unforgiving, slanderers, without self-control, brutal, despisers of good, traitors, headstrong, haughty, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having a form of godliness but denying its power. And from such people turn away! For of this sort are those who creep into households and make captives of gullible women loaded down with sins, led away by various lusts, always learning and never able to come to the knowledge of truth. 

Sister, we are living in our last days, make every day that God gives you breath in your body count bcuz you don't know when it will be your last day. There is pleasure in sin for a season--Hebrews 11:24. Whatever you do, don't let the devil take your life and your soul, it is not worth it.

Love You So Much and want to make sure your soul doesn't go to H---.  I am praying that you will have a preacher as a husband.I miss you Michelle, I miss hugging you, I miss walking up those stairs to bring your meals to you I would LOVE to hug you just one more time. That may or may not happen before He Returns ony God knows this.Please write me back when you can, you are always on my heart and mind. I have made mistakes while we were all living at 2414, I am so very sorry I pray that you forgive me if I have offended you please forgive me, I thought I had it all together. But now I see, I was just messed up and made lots of wrong choices, but God came along with His Holy broom and cleaned up my mess and said to move on. I am so glad when He forgives our sins, He forgets never no more to be remembered. All I can say is ---Thank-you Jesus.

...

Love You Forever my dearest Daughter and Friend.

This is the average email from her and I’ve been told that it’s not normal to receive emails this long talking about how she’s ‘devastated’ by my choices and how the world is going to end in hellfire soon. Please allow me, however, to show the email she immediately sent after the above.

[T]acoma is Washington's most dangerous city, with a violent crime rate of 953 incidents per 100,000 residents. While this is a relatively high rate — the 96th worst in the country — the city's incidence of property crime stands out even more. ... Indeed, the city had the country's 15th highest property crime rate in 2016

The overall crime rate in Tacoma is 138% higher than the national average. For every 100,000 people, there are 16.81 daily crimes that occur in Tacoma. Tacoma is safer than 3% of the cities in the United States. In Tacoma you have a 1 in 17 chance of becoming a victim of any crime.

Have you done the research for this city?They said Tacoma is the most violent city in Washington,I love you and want you to be happy. There are sooo many universities with the same opportunities.

How would you get around, does your friend drive? I did see how beautiful the area is but you just have to be careful I guess everywhere you go. 

As you can see, she immediately invalidates my choice - something I was very truly wonderfully excited about - and sends me a message that triggers my anxiety. I should note that she did not allow me out of the house without her even when I was an adult and over 18. If I went somewhere she had to be there with me.

Ah, but now we come to today and the email that spurred this post to creation. The above emails were sent two days ago and I have yet to respond. The email below was sent just today. 

Hi Michelle.

While I cannot apologize for what I said, It was not my intention to offend you in any way. I just went to google and typed in most dangerous city in the state of Washington and Tacoma popped up, that is out of 100 cities in the state.Okay, I know you say you have been there and all and you are no match for all of the evil there. God forbid, should something happen to you--you would be just another name and another number to them there is no much evil there they can't control it, I say to you just watch on a daily basis all of the crime that goes on in that sin city.

You better be praying about this cuz I don't think God would want you to put yourself in harms way--make a wiser choice, and God will bless you for it.Look at what happened to kobe bryant incident.... they met a very bad situation face to face and of course their was no way they could turn that around. My whole point of conversation.....sure you can do what you want bcuz you are an adult grown woman, but I would strongly advise you to pray to God about it and make a wise choice here, your life and future depends on right choices you make now.

What about University of Michigan in Ann Arbor or East Lansing University, Michigan University Kalamazoo, they are on the ten universities in Michigan. You need to reconsider your decision and think about your resourses you can get more help from family  bcuz I have all kinds of family up there and I will be up there soon. You are no match for Tacoma Washington. I only say this bcuz you are my daughter and I don't want something really bad come out of this just bcuz you are trying to get an education behind you--this calls for wise decisions.

You may never speak to me again, but I just want to inform you that you need to be very very cautious here.

Love You Forever.

... 

“You may never speak to me again.” 

...

This is the last email I have read from her and it will remain the last email I will ever read from her. I also will not be sending her any emails ever again because you know what? 

Her scared, anxious daughter Michelle Jean Anderson died and I’m what’s left - and I’m sick of her shit. 

So, hello, everybody! My name is Andy Alex Anderson and my pronouns are he/him (or they/them if you panic and forget) and it’s a pleasure to meet you! 

[psiotechniqa]

An austrailian ABC production, on Denmark and immigration politics - where ABC carries so much water for the muslim immigrants than they’re basically drowning.

My thoughts:

I'm danish. Fuck you ABC. "targeting migrants and muslims" - yes, because we have a very expensive welfare system, and if everyone from the middle east who wanted freebies just walked up to our border and said "Give me" then we'd be bankrupt faster than Aussies can plop their asian migrants onto tiny islands in the middle of the ocean. Someone has to pay for all those nice things you tossers! 

And complaining that Paludan is silly because he's protected by police? Gee, guess who he's being protected from? People who tried to kill him, people who tried to riot... hell, people who did riot. If nobody reacted to his shit, he would be out of business. No, the rioters cost the danish tax payers millions! 

 And the irony that you jokers got assaulted by extreme pro-muslim leftists. Hahaha. That's the exact bullshit that Paludan is complaining about you idiots! Nobody in denmark likes him, but fuck he has a bloody right to speak his mind. Is it his fault that there are muslims in denmark who think its ok to force their views (not doing shit to the koran) onto everyone else? That's not how a democracy works buddy.

...and interviewing the veil-wearer? Right, wearing it out of dedication? Sure. Doesn't have anything to do with muslim sharia law saying that women must be covered up, lest they tempt men into raping them, right? Good grief

Regarding the tyrkish immigrants from the 60s, then they were invited. We had a labor shortage. We don't have one now. Don't conflate refugees and migrants. The woman you interview talk about fleeing from their country because their husband was facing execution for something. That's a huge difference, you disingenuous cunts. 

Finally: Vollsmose basically a no-go zone. In 2017 the danish postal service stopped servicing that area because it wasn't safe for their people to venture into. Don't paint it as a pure and innocent neighborhood by interviewing one random joker from there. There are gang shootings there on a near weekly basis.

[imaginethathaikyuu]

i as an australian can assure you bokuto does not look australian

i as an american who has never been to austrailia can assure you that according to my stereotype of what hot austrailian men look/sound like: bokuto with an australian accent makes sense to me 

[mautadite]

august book round up

22 books this month! which is the most i’ve ever read in a month i think. most of them audiobooks. i usually don’t listen to audiobooks while i’m at work but since we’re doing a lot of repetitive data entry these past several weeks i can afford to. also it helps with drowning out my obnoxious coworkers whom i fucking: hate.

temeraire 8: blood of tyrants - naomi novik ⭐️⭐️⭐️ i liked this a little better for rereading it, though i will always and forever hate amnesia plots. i remembered soooooo many things wrongly about this book it’s ridiculous! it did contain one of the highlights of the series: laurence saving tharkay, for once.  

temeraire 9: league of dragons - naomi novik ⭐️⭐️⭐️ eh. a satisfactory end, but it let me down in so many ways. NOTHING HAPPENED for so much of this book, it meandered aimlessly and so many of the resolutions were underwhelming (ning in particular was just sort of... there). don’t get me wrong, there was some VERY GOOD character stuff... but goddammit i wanted more! (ps laurence/tharkay 4 life, naomi novik is a coward) 

just jorie - robin alexander ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ another VERY CUTE lesbian romance, this time a late in life coming out, which is a genre i think i’m starting to really enjoy lol. robin alexander’s characters are very true to life, and there’s something about her writing style that’s just very very appealing in a romance. and the narrator for the audiobook was super talented. definitely going to be on the lookout for more of her books.

a charm of magpies 1-3 - k.j. charles ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ AHHHHH. SO GOOD. witchery and adventure and history and SO MANY GOOD TROPES. i’m definitely a fan of k.j. charles, this was the second series of hers that i’ve read and thoroughly enjoyed. lucien and stephen were such good characters, played very well to the sappy romantic FOOL in me heart. i loved reading about them falling in love. T__T also: tol and smol. very good.

jackdaw - k.j. charles ⭐️⭐️⭐️ spin off novel of the charm of magpies series. i enjoyed it; not really a ‘redemption’ book, but tells the story of one of the minor villains and had me rooting for him all the way. his love interest ben was one of those unfailingly GOOD people who made me want the best for him.

a queer trade - k.j. charles ⭐️⭐️⭐️ a short story that introduces the characters of the next charm of magpies book. yay black men in historical romance!

rag and bone - k.j. charles ⭐️⭐️⭐️ another enjoyable instalment, though it didn’t have me as hooked as the first three stories did. one thing i like about k.j. charles is that she explores all aspects of victorian england. i would have never expected to read about a waste paper man as one of the heroes of a romance novel, but here we are. sort of fell short on the sympathetic warlock storyline, but i enjoyed it.

think of england - k.j. charles ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ murder! mystery! blackmail! spies! scheming guests at a house party in the country! all of these parts of the book were very good but the romance was the best. A Wounded Vet Learns to Love. also there are surprise lesbians. let me tell you, so many m/m books could be improved with a sprinkling of dykes.

the children of gavrilek 1-3 - julie kirton chandler ⭐️ it pains me to rate this book so lowly. physically pains me. i recced this book on a femslash post years ago without reading it, i just saw the synopsis and read an extract and it seems good. it COULD have been good. the first book in the series was weak, but had promise, the second started off SO STRONG but fizzled hard, and the third was a fucking travesty nightmare. god i don’t even want to talk about it.

beneath the surface - harper bliss ⭐️⭐️⭐️ after subjecting myself to the children of gavrilek i went hunting through my shelves for something with cute lesbians and settled on this, the second in a series about austrailian gays. it was pretty good! it’s about a long term relationship and their ups and downs throughout 20 years of being wives. i like when books show you what comes AFTER the happily every after.

femme - marshall thornton ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ a really sweet m/m comedy romance, that tackled intra-community discrimination in a way that managed to be serious and genuine but still stuck to the light-hearted tone. joel leslie on audio killed it as usual.

40 souls to keep - libby drew ⭐️⭐️⭐️ neat concept (guy wakes up with amnesia and gradually discovers that he’s been tasked to save 40 souls, after which he’ll be given back his memories) and style, but the execution flopped a bit. always unfortunate when you figure out who the villain in a crime/mystery is, 20 seconds after he’s introduced. cute though, really liked the love interest.

blackmail, my love - katie gilmartin ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ favourite book of the month maybe? a mystery/suspense set in the 1950s about a lesbian searching for her missing gay brother. in her search she gets pulled into a whirlwind of blackmail, murder, and the queer nightlight of san francisco. this was painfully good, well researched and lovingly written, and it’ll stay with me for a long time.

boundaries - jane retzig ⭐️⭐️⭐️ lesbian romance; dealt very competently with abuse and youthful longing and growing up. there were a few narrative things that left me ?_? (ALICE SHOULD BE IN JAIL) but i enjoyed it overall.

a king undone - cooper davis ⭐️ bad bad bad. m/m fantasy romance that dragged. you could find more chemistry in a primary school baking soda volcano. someone tell this author that they’re allowed to say ‘men’ and not ‘male’ all the time.

axel’s pup - kim dare ⭐️⭐️⭐️ see, this was well written and appropriately slow burny and had so much meaty character interaction and a decent enough plot and world-building but when it comes down to it... MAN i hate lifestyle d/s.  it's all fun and spankings until character b needs to fucking. ask character a’s permission to visit his dying grandfather, and then my skin starts crawling away from my body i’m so skeeved off. subjective! character b was chill with it! but oooof.

lillian byrd 1: holy hell - elizabeth sims ⭐️⭐️⭐️ lesbian murder mystery with a splash of comedy ahoy. this was okay but also meh. we just flat out knew who the killers were pretty early on; the books pretty much became about proving motive. which wasn’t as entertaining. also (and this is one of the FEW times you’ll hear me say this) i’m not sure we needed the romance.

a hundred thousand words - nyrae dawn ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ new adult m/m romance, very cute. the love interested was open and honest in a way that surprised me, it was so atypical of your run of the mill romance character. and i liked the way this dealt with family and friendships and getting to know and develop YOURSELF. this book surprised me with how much i liked it.

that’s it for august! no grand plans for september; i’ve gotten a bunch of extra stuff dumped on me at work and i won’t be surprised if i don’t read as much. but there’ll still be lots of romance, i’m betting. currently reading the first in the society of gentlemen series, which i’m liking very much. 

[iangallagherz]

i would like to let you know that i don’t watch stranger things or anything but bc of u i Mayhaps might be in love with that dacre montgomery guy

austrailian men like dacre montgomery and cody fern just. be out there... looking gorgeous... making me and you and thousands of other people fall in love w them.... they need to be stopped

[felixmaxwell317]

write a kids book like one hundred pages

moon spinners

dream 

one paragraph a page

three sentences a paragraph

inside of the clock shop was an old man sitting at a desk working on a clock with clock maker tools. on the desk is an hour glass full of sand, papers with the designs for clocks and a few pieces of ancient chinese gold. the door bell sounds at twelve o’clock midnight and someone walks into the old clock shop with the old man and the old chinese money.

at twelve o’clock midnight and four seconds someone says “is there anyone here?” and looks around inside of the clock shop where there are lots of books on the shelves covered in dust and lots of clocks everywhere and lots and lots of pocket watches under glass cases.

the old man heard the door bell sound. 

the old man heard elliott maxwell walk into the clock shop.

the old man works harder on the clock and moves the lamp to draw attention to himself so elliott maxwell will happen upon him working on the clock.

elliott maxwell moves towards the light across the clock shop and happens upon the old man working intently on the clock at twelve o’clock midnight at the desk with an hour glass full of sand, papers with the designs for clocks and a few pieces of ancient chinese gold on the desk, behind a tall stack of old books with dust on them.

the old man moves some papers around on the desk.

it’s really quiet in the clock shop. the only sound now are the echos of clocks around in the two story clock shop that used to be a french restaurant.

“i know it’s late sir but i saw a light on in the clock shop from outside while i was riding my bicycle and i felt curious enough to wonder if i should see if the door would happen to open and when the door happened to open, curiously enough, i found my way inside all the way to here. i saw the lamp light move from across the clock shop and i... my name is elliott maxwell.” elliott maxwell extends his hand for a handshake...

the old man looks up from his desk and up from his glasses with his scraggly white and grey hair, messed from all the thinking about the clock and the best ways to assemble the machine, and looks at elliott maxwell and smiles with the light of the lamp in his eyes and looks back down at his work and continues to work on the pocket watch and says “...elliott maxwell...” with a tone like he’s more interested in his work on the pocket watch “...is that elliott with one ‘t’ or two t’s? either will do, or even if the last name was salinas...” the old man takes a pause and pats his coat jacket pocket with his left hand where a gold pocket watch rests inside the coat jacket pocket. “...i have a... pocket watch for a spanish man as well... but that’s another time i know, i know... another time... this story is for elliott maxwell and elliott maxwell’s pocket watch...”

the moment when he was looking at elliott maxwell with the light in his eyes felt like a grand dramatic moment where something miraculous might happen or is happening or is about to happen or happened or will happen or is happening or all of them or some moment, definitely, some important moment is occurring on the planet earth and all the clocks are ticking in the old clock shop that used to be a french restaurant and even the ghosts of french restaurant are aware of an ever increasing brightness to the moment coming from the only lamp on in the old clock shop and although the two men are meeting for the first time there is some familiarity to the moment like the moment itself is a ghost like them or that’s just because they’re all ghosts and drinking fancy drinks and eating fancy foods and the moment they’re living in is alive or because the moment is like a ghost, the moment is like a ghost in some way and the brightness has been getting brighter for the last two or three seconds.

“elliott maxwell, i’ve been expecting an elliott maxwell here for the last...”

the old man at the desk with the pocket watch, the sand, the papers with designs for clocks and ancient chinese gold looks at the watch on his wrist. the time reads twelve o’clock. midnight.

“...for the last twelve hours, since noon!”

and takes a drink out of a glass, looks like water...

“the watch is almost done...” the old man says as he continues working on the pocket watch.

“the pocket watch is for time travel. it’s made of pure gold, the old gold... the real stuff... i know, i got it...” the old man takes a pause to screw another screw in the pocket watch. “...from a secret island and the gold there, well...” the old man looks up “...the gold...hmmpff...” and purses his lips so his white and grey mustache bunches up “...acquired by...stealing...with...time travel...”

at this point elliott maxwell has been holding his hand toward the old man for a handshake for at least thirty seconds or more and the old man looks up again and sees elliott maxwell’s hand and puts down his clock working instrument and gives elliott maxwell a handshake and says, “how do you do? my name is john wheeler.”

the two men, picturesque icons in the whole scene with the dust on the books in the clock shop and the ghosts over there noticing the bright light coming from the lamp light just then and happening upon the whole conversation and having kept fairly quiet the entire time, shake hands for the first time.

“very nice to meet you mr. wheeler. how have you come to be waiting on me for such a time as twelve hours since noon, you said?” elliott maxwell says to john wheeler, the clock maker.

“i am a time traveler and i make time travel clocks and time travel watches and time travel pocket watches among other fine objects and i happen to know a decent amount about the future from time to time when i get the chance, mostly about the past, i mostly know about the past...” and the clock maker returns to his work and says “...because i remember the past and i don’t really or... i have yet to figure the telepathic way, exactly, so to speak, of how to remember the future like remembering the past is so easy... if that makes sense... with my mind like leaning on some kind of temporal eye glass or uh... i had the thought most recently... oh, yes, an optical telescope but a psychic one that i could angulate or somehow position to incline or determine the time, the future that is or even circular... like my grandfather had once talked about having a dream...he said time was like a sphere... he was a time traveler...”

elliott maxwell looks at his watch. the time reads twelve o’clock and ten minutes and eleven seconds...

“...what time was it then?”

“twelve o’clock and ten minutes and eleven seconds, sir.”

“that’s good...we’re on time.” the old man, john wheeler, is looking at the watch with an extra glasses lens on and says “i’m almost done... i’ll need you to go into the area that used to be a dining room for the last part. the mecurial gold is of such a quality that i have to wear a special pair of glasses to view it so that my eyes retain their material form. you understand.”

elliott maxwell looks at the dust on the top of the book that became about the air after having taken one book, a philosophy book to liking and has been flipping through it for the minute while the old man, john wheeler, was talking about the pocket watch...

“sure, i’ll just take this book over that way and you let me know when you’re done...”

“that sounds good...”

elliott maxwell turns around and walks towards the dining room tables...

“...by the way, were you listening?” the old man, john wheeler says to elliott maxwell...

“i was doing both!” elliott maxwell says as he talks over his shoulder with the closed book in his hand.

“i was listening and reading, i’m a writer. i write books.”

“just checking, it’s important. i was talking about my grandfather.”

the old man with the glasses, john wheeler, says as he puts on a pair of dark day-time shades in the dark library looking loft of his old clock shop, in the back with the lamp light on and the dust all dancing around the air to like the ghost of music from some other holy place...

and the old man with the glasses, john wheeler, retrieves a clear glass bottle of golden mercury from the desk drawer and it burns bright in the atmosphere. 

for a moment, all the lights go on in the old clock shop, and the ghosts of the french restaurant notice and the whole wave goes up a little bit, about two or three inches, a little more than usual when the old man with the glasses, john wheeler, normally does this part of the clock assembling and especially at twelve o’clock, midnight in the old clock shop with all the lights off and one lamp light on, in the back where all the dusty books are... in the country the united states of america, on the planet earth...

elliott maxwell is reading a book on philosophy written by lawrence doogood, an austrailian philosopher, about the mind and geometry called “the motions of considerations and the motions of motions on geometry; the thinking mind.”

elliott maxwell reads on page forty-two an entry and the entry reads

the philosophy of mind is centered around geometry and how the procession of forms occurs in a most general way and the way being from center to center by lines, wherein the phrase by what line of logic originates from, and the thoughts occur like machines in the mind as sentences consist of multiplicities of forms that when assembled by the process of logic produce the fruit of the fundamental nature of mind as an organizing prima materia does so it’s own transcendental activity by sequences.

the mind is beautiful.

and that’s what the whole entry read on that page. that was it.

the mind is beautiful.

the pages on the book were long and looked collegiate as if the book was longer than most books, and it was. the book had a quality to it, perhaps it was the knowledge inside that took a stretch on the mind that caused it to appear more flat and more long than a normal book and after all the book only had two-hundred and thirty pages in it. the book was a long, flat rectangle with genius concepts inside making the book intellectually attractive and when one held the real philosophy book it was wealthy to do so. elliott maxwell felt more wealthy holding the philosophy book written by lawrence doogood than any other time in his entire life and because the book was the best book he had ever read. the motions of considerations and the motions of motions on geometry; the thinking mind was the best book elliott maxwell had ever read in so far as reading materials are concerned thus far and all of the books in the clock shop of john wheeler, a philosopher who built clocks and who is a time traveler on the planet earth...

“the pocket watch is done dear boy! come look, have a look see at the watch and we’ll see if you can... take it for a spin...” john wheeler looked at the watch with his clear reading glasses in the lamp light and tinkered with the knob that sets the seconds, minutes and the hour hands. “...and we’ll see...we’ll see if you can take it for a spin on any of the hands she’s got, that’s just right. on any of the hands she’s got.” he set the time to twelve o’clock and twelve minutes which it was and looked at his wrist watch. the seconds read one second into the twelfth minute and he felt the most holy feeling of the excitement of rushing to place and placing the second hand on the eleventh second number place and click the knob just at the exact second that the twelfth should happen, after the click of the eleventh second letting fate ring as a click to echo like a ghost around and about the hour of his old clock shop on the midnight this calm night and then so and all done in four seconds and now...

fifth second of the twelve o’clock hour, the midnight happening to be this december night...

elliott runs over to the desk with the old man and the lamp and the pocket watch.

tenth second of the twelve o’clock hour, the midnight happening to be this december night...

the grand pocket watch is in john wheeler’s hands and elliott maxwell says,

“wow!” and grabs the gold pocket watch and looks at the gold pocket watch and presses the notch on the gold pocket watch.

click.

tock.

the twelfth second happened then on the tock part. it was glorious.

it was good.

that was a good moment when all of the numbers lined up perfectly and for a moment the number twelve was in three places at once and did invisible magic with it’s power as a number and the number twelve was also in two places at once then, once as the number twelve in three places at once and twice as the number two and the number three as the number twelve is in three places at once. god counted there somehow like this...

one...

two...

three...

from one twelve, to three twelves simultaneously as the number two and the number three.

when it happens, it’s good to take note. the big machine, the big sky machine...

the big, big star machine must be working when the arithmetic is so perfect. a scientist would take note.

a philosopher would take note.

an astronomer would take note, the mystic kind.

that moment happened today, december twelfth. 

...

that december twelfth is in this year nineteen twelve. 

what a beautiful moment.

what a good moment. 

the stars shine there like twinkling bright yellow magic in the air. 

those moments are so important to us, i think. 

this is how it also happened, exactly... 

that moment felt like there was a space there, maybe a few more seconds than usual...

and...

life...

life flowed through elliott maxwell and the big dramatic air blew in from the outside and threw all the papers around the whole old clock shop and threw their hair around and for some reason a big grandfather clock let out a gong-bellow when the bell rung on that twelfth second and elliott maxwell turned around towards the door where all of the wind had come busting in like a big swell and shook up all the papers in the old clock shop. 

where there had only been soft grey rain clouds on the eleventh hour dressing the town streets with soft shadows now there was a full on storm blustering up the outside of the old clock shop...

with rain...

with thunder...

and with lightning...

when elliott maxwell had come to face the open door where winds rushing in poured into the old clock shop, he saw all the papers flying around about the wind rushed in with the notes written with black ink and pencil and saw the rain pouring down outside of the old clock shop windows and saw the shadows on the ground outside on the street and the puddles of rain and the green blinking lights on the road from the green blinking traffic lights down the road for a few blocks in the rain and in the shadows on the ground outside and in the puddles of rain and on the windows of the old clock shop where rain drip down and water splash on the windows of the old clock shop...

and the big thunder and lightning crashed all around and struck the twelfth second of the twelfth hour of the twelfth day of the twelfth month of the year nineteen twelve and the electricity was in the air and was at the air of the twelfth second now with the crack of the sound and elliott maxwell looked at his brand new gold watch, a gift from the old man john wheeler, and back up to watch the papers and to watch the rain and to feel the lightning and thunder so close...

there was a moment so grand...

the papers all seem to float in mid-air now and stay like time was frozen and somewhere in the periphery of the scene, golden names on books to the left of the clock shop door shined and gleamed on black wraps that are wrapped around the books in the old clock shop...

this moment felt slow and long...

elliott maxwell looked around and turned his head to the right and thought to himself, “these papers are floating, they’re staying clean in place... still falling like feathers but... much slower now...” and elliott maxwell turned around to the old man john wheeler and said, “this is a time travel watch?”

john wheeler was sitting and then stood and said to elliott maxwell as he clasped his hand kindly, “yes, this watch is a time travel watch. it’s gold and it’s yours for free.” elliott maxwell’s eyes lit up with excitement and joy.

“this watch puts a sphere in time in some ways sometimes, it’s happening from the pocket watch right now and the moments there all about when you pressed the notch on the right side of the watch controlling the machine effects of the watch caused time, where we are here now to become suspended in a state of transcendental motion such that we can exist in normal time while the time of our environment...” and the time traveler, john wheeler, grabbed a piece of paper and tilted it to the side like a feather would “...is still and all the objects of our environment... isn’t that grand?” 

“why, yes. thank you very much sir, mr. john wheeler sir. i’ve only dreamed moments like this and... this is very good gift.” elliott maxwell turned around to look at the papers in the air and the books on the wall and asked the time traveler, john wheeler, a question.

“why did you give me this watch?” and turned around to hear the time traveler, john wheeler, answer and the time traveler, john wheeler said “because...” 

and the time traveler, john wheeler, laughed hysterically into the hall and put his left hand on his hip with his right leg bent and he tossed his grey, white hair up and said “because... i don’t know...” and he got serious with his tone “you must be someone important elliott maxwell to be in a dream like this, receiving such a fortune beyond payment and prize to witness the events wherein now all the papers stay in their fall like feathers on dime...” elliott maxwell looked puzzled for a second and then the time traveler, john wheeler, raised his right eyebrow and said “...the time...” and tapped on his watch with his right hand and then pointed at a few of the clocks around which were totally stopped, frozen by the gold time travel pocket watch given to elliott maxwell by the time traveler, john wheeler. 

“let’s have a steak and some sodas.” the time traveler, john wheeler, said to elliott maxwell.

“that sounds good. i could use a midnight snack.” elliott maxwell said.

“steak and mashed potatoes and carrots and asparagus and soda.” the time traveler, john wheeler, said to elliott maxwell. 

and the time traveler john wheeler and elliott maxwell had steak and mashed potatoes and carrots and asparagus and soda at midnight while time was frozen in the old clock shop that used to be a french restaurant. 

after that, elliott maxwell went home on his bicycle to the maxwell family mansion on peridot lane.

the house has twenty seven rooms in it. 

wesley maxwell and florence maxwell were inside, in the master bedroom, reading books in bed. wesley maxwell was just getting out of bed, the sheets still on his right leg and on his lap sort of.

in three seconds his left foot will touch the soft carpet and he will put his shoes on that are resting by the door of the master bedroom and then wesley maxwell will walk downstairs and find his son standing at the door looking at the clock opposite the front door with a gold pocket watch on a golden chain and although in this dimension there are no signs of anything strange, in some other place right close to here, elliott maxwell has swirls in his eyes, the sign of a time traveler. 

in this world, the entire interaction was very bland and dry. 

“elliott, what are you doing at the door son?”

elliott maxwell stares at the clock in front of him like it’s far away, like he’s staring into a long and wide and big desert. he feels really solid. maybe it was the steak and the mashed potatoes and the soda, or the carrots.

“i went to an old clock shop four miles away and that old man, john wheeler, he gave me this free gold watch. it’s a time travel watch.”

wesley maxwell walks down the stairs in his silver toned pajamas with purple and blue moons on them. it’s twelve o’clock and forty four minutes at the midnight hour this december evening. 

“that sounds great son. why are all the lights on? it is twelve o’clock you know...”

the bright lights burned at the former dim light in the room from all the lamps, the chandelier making the room drunk on it’s own light. 

being in the room at that moment was good. the space felt like a memory.

“i rode my bicycle all the way home with all of the rain stopped in the air...the rain moved a little bit i guess. this is the gold watch i have now.” and elliott maxwell raised the gold time travel watch and the gold time travel watch spun clock-wise slowly and the air in the downstairs guest room area was different, thicker and there was more space. a few steps felt like it was taking a few more seconds than normal and the moment was gliding on the moment, the time about the time as the aura of the watch somehow did something to the house by relativity and especially because it is twelve o’clock on the midnight hour of this december night. 

and because it is twelve o’clock on the midnight hour of the december night, the twelfth of december in the year nineteen twelve, elliott maxwell is staring at the big clock in the downstairs guest room area of the maxwell family mansion and he looks like he’s staring at a flat wall, almost like the clock isn’t there at all...

elliott maxwell dreams of a desert where the clock is and dreams of pools of calm water, water like milk, thick and calm... and elliott maxwell dreams of a desert full of sand where the clock is and dreams of, has visions of, in a post-time travel trance, bottling up the desert into one hour glass and selling the sand in the hour glass for a million dollars a grain. elliott maxwell, the rich son of the wealthy bank owner wesley maxwell, dreams of selling grains of sand for millions of dollars.

“well, that’s all great son but it’s fairly late and you should get to bed. you look kind of tired staring at that clock so blank... do you feel okay? would you like some medicine?” wesley maxwell says to his son elliott maxwell.

“medicine?” elliott maxwell asks...

“yeah, medicine. i have some opium in a bottle upstairs right next to my reading glasses and the vacation catalog i was just looking at for time shares at the florida keys...”

“the florida keys?”

“yeah, come on. you’ll have some opium and then you’re off to bed.”

“okay that sounds good.” elliott maxwell rubs his eyes and realizes he’s in his house and that the lights are so bright that his father is squinting through the glare of them.

“the lights sure are bright.” elliott maxwell says...

“yeah, you turned em’ on i guess to stare at that clock on the wall. are you sure you feel alright?”

“yeah, i feel okay.” elliott maxwell rubs his forehead with his right hand as he puts the gold pocket watch in his interior right side coat jacket pocket.

“that is a nice watch though son. you said that old man john wheeler gave it to you? for free?”

“yeah, he said...”

elliott maxwell remembered the whole episode at the old clock shop and felt like maybe it was all a dream. 

“...he said i could have the watch. i took the gold watch from his hand when he was done assembling it. there was a lot of rain and lightning...” 

wesley maxwell, at this point, has already had himself several spoonfuls of opium and is half-way dreaming himself. 

wesley maxwell pulls a cigarette out of his front shirt pocket of his silver toned pajamas with purple and blue moons on them and lights the cigarette in the hallway on his way to the master bedroom and gets high on the cigarette and walks to the master bedroom and opens the master bedroom’s door.

“go show your mother the gold watch boy, i bet she’d love to see it. looks really grand my boy. looks old, looks victorian.” wesley maxwell says as he sits down on the left side of the bed and unscrews the cap of the opium bottle. “when you’re ready the opium bottle is there and there is a spoon on the bedside table next to the opium bottle.”

“sure. thanks dad.” elliott maxwell says to his father wesley maxwell.

“your welcome son. have a good night, i’m off to the dreamer for some milk...” welsey maxwell yawns and continues to ramble like the good father he is on the midnight hour, twelve o’clock. “...milk and cookies...”

“hey mom, look at what i got. it’s a gold watch.” elliott maxwell says as he walks toward his mother, florence maxwell, resting on the bed and reading a law rhetoric dictionary. she looks like she’s been reading for a few hours. 

“that’s very nice dear, i can see. you got it from the old man who owns the old clock shop a few miles away, good john wheeler?” 

“yes, i did. how did you...” for a moment elliott maxwell wonders how she could know that and he had just told his father downstairs but that was downstairs and this is upstairs and the upstairs master bedroom is all the way down a hall...

“...i overheard you talking to your father dear.” she says as she skims the page and looks at the gold watch in her son, elliott maxwell’s hands. “let the watch here darling, it does look wonderful.”

“oh, it is wonderful mother. it’s a time travel watch.” elliott maxwell says to his mother florence maxwell.

“a time travel watch? why do you think so?” florence maxwell says to elliott maxwell.

“just press that notch right there on right side of the watch, or... pull it out and then press it again, one time i think...” elliott maxwell says to his mother florence maxwell. 

the mother of elliott maxwell looks at her husband through above the top of her reading glasses and wonders for a second, and a long curiosity happens in her mind like as if the second she was turning to look at her husband, wesley maxwell, the second had become stretched flat and long, maybe by two more seconds or three more seconds or four more seconds or five more seconds even...

“let’s just see about this...” and elliott maxwell’s mother florence maxwell looked at her son with wonder and she opened her mouth playfully and looked at her son with the appreciation and care of a lover of stories and books and dreams...

the rain outside pours and washes against the window of the upstairs master bedroom.

some distant thunder and lightning occurs a few miles away and florence maxwell dreams the lightning through telepathic inclination, just like always, like everyone does...

a crash of some lightning strikes the house in a circle almost

click.

... and everything stops... now everyone in the upstairs bedroom is frozen, all except florence maxwell...

“wow...” florence maxwell says and looks around the room. 

“the rain has stopped?” florence maxwell asks...

the moment feels like a soft bell has been rung in the atmosphere... maybe it’s the gold on the watch, the aura of the gold time travel watch that john wheeler gave to elliott maxwell earlier this hour at twelve o’clock and the twelfth minute of the midnight hour on the twelfth of december, the twelfth month of the year nineteen twelve...

maybe the watch gives a sound from the gold when it stops time...

perhaps, the watch becomes alive in some other dimension and fills out some official form and hands it to the clock on the wall, if there should be one, and the watch signs an agreement to stop the time for a moment and the clock personified approves of the time travel motion to stop time and lights a cigarette or takes a mint to relax for a moment while the time travel clock does something so amazing, that it really is a wonder how it should all occur and the gold time travel watch stands up like a human being and holds the second hand on the clock, real strong and the whole environment slows down, time stops...

did you ever think of that?

did you ever know that? 

when did you know that? 

florence maxwell looks at her watch. it’s totally stopped. the second hand is absolutely still...

“the time has stopped here.” florence maxwell says and waves in front of her husband, wesley maxwell’s face and wesley maxwell, in his silver tone pajamas with milky purple and milk blue moons and white milky stars doesn’t move at all on the bed that moment...

...and...

and her son, elliott maxwell, is also there totally still.

she thinks, “this is a... time travel watch... a real gold time travel pocket watch.” with her mouth open and then lifts the notch and presses the notch on the right side of the golden time travel pocket watch...

click.

the whole scene resumes...

“well...” wesley maxwell says “are you going to try it dear, he says the rain stopped at the old clock shop.”

“the rain did stop.” florence maxwell says “i just saw you two, right here, you two in front of my pause like still pictures, stopped in time and, and my watch. the seconds hand on my watch was still as well... totally stopped.” 

“just now? just this very moment?” wesley maxwell asks his wife florence maxwell...

“yes, just now. just now this very moment, the most recent one.” florence maxwell tells her husband wesley maxwell and looks at him dearly and says “honestly, here just go ahead and try it.” and florence maxwell gives the gold pocket watch to her son elliott maxwell.

“i knew it wasn’t just a dream. i rode my bicycle all the way home for four miles and it only took one second in the real world...” elliott maxwell says to his parents, wesley maxwell and florence maxwell.

elliott maxwell. just a twelve year old rich kid from washington who acquired a time travel pocket watch, for free, at the perfect time and the perfect place. what lay ahead may very well be the most important moments in all of human history as the young boy, now time traveler, elliott maxwell, takes his new machine out for it’s spin... 

on the world perhaps... 

twelve years pass by in the story.

consider telegraphs, money, paper money, playing cards, calendars, clocks, coins, and articles of the sort. they’re all flashed around like in memory in order and twelve years has become a passer by in the story.

twelve years.

elliott maxwell is twenty four now. elliott maxwell is a man. elliott maxwell is a rich man. 

do you think he still uses his gold time travel pocket watch? of course he does. he uses his gold time travel pocket watch from good john wheeler all the time. elliott maxwell is doing good.

elliott maxwell uses his gold time travel pocket watch to steal money from banks all around the world. 

here he is at his desk in his big house counting a lot of money that is now his, this time it’s paper bills but elliott maxwell got big on cash by stealing the pure gold of the world and, well...

how did elliott maxwell become a time traveling thief? 

the story is somewhat like this...

elliott maxwell, seventeen and in his senior year of high school, has gotten used to running around with his lucky gold time travel pocket watch and has collected one million dollars from banks around the country. 

he likes throwing the money on the dirt in the backyard because it looks good to see the money covered in dirt and reminds him of buried treasure and the wealth of his youth brought to him in the form of literature and stories about wonders he could only ever dream about and now, at the end of his schooling, he is the only one he knows who happens to own, who happens to have in his pocket, a gold time travel pocket watch and who uses it for the acquisition of paper money, real paper money with the numbers on it and a lot of those now...

it’s night time now in nineteen eighteen and the hour is the seventh hour of the evening and the minute is the fifteenth minute at the big number three on the clock and the seconds are passing by as elliott maxwell walks down the street in his nice black suit and with his nice black suitcase, filled up with the real paper money from the banks with all the cash inside the vaults, just there twenty miles down the road in the town of bellevue as he walks back to his home town everett and as the seconds pass to the world outside only the blur on the side of the road. elliott maxwell has the right side notch of his lucky gold time travel pocket watch pressed in and set to the transcendental time beyond normal linear time. 

he’s swinging the gold pocket watch in a clock-wise circle as he walks down the road. it’s taking a while but he has another ten thousand dollars in his nice black suitcase. 

elliott maxwell thinks to himself, “this is a good story. i like this story where i am here.” and notices fourteen blades of green grass on pasture alongside, beside the road beside him, along side him. beautiful green grass, fourteen of them, blades they are... 

what a good time.

and elliott maxwell smiled at his walked down the road back to his mansion home in everett, washington in the nineteen eighteen. such a good year, full of... lots and lots of money that year, green paper money with the numbers on it, real money... lots of money and lots of it.

elliott maxwell was planning and making maps and charts of towns and had spent a great deal of his weekends acquiring the blueprints of banks around the country and all on the free way he had made himself with his choice to a repose destiny... he always said he was saving up for a vacation to the florida keys and that when he got there he was going to order a fruit drink with lots of vodka and the bright flower umbrellas for the drink and relax in the sand and when the waves permit to swim and have the days on his yacht there on the florida keys. 

elliott maxwell heard about the florida keys on the popular radio machine in a motor car received as an early gift from his father’s brother, a man from australia, who worked in the military establishment and worked to produce the modern day motor car with the radio transmitter machine installed into the front section of the modern day motor car.

there were lots of maps in elliott maxwell’s room and when elliott maxwell was the age of fifteen he told his father that he had been stealing and the money was from banks in the town and that he was using his gold time travel pocket watch to stop time to steal all of the free money and his father told him that if he needed any more paper for maps that it would be good to go to the store together, for old time’s sake, and elliott said, “yeah. for old time’s sake.” and all the maps were all over the room and elliott maxwell’s room was littered with maps with the lines and all the beauty of cartography in it’s form as obsession on the genius scenery of a wealthy room in the state of washington and there’s a globe in the room and the clock can see the crumpled up maps, territorial maps thrown all across the hours full of planning on walking into a bank full of people and pressing the right side notch on the gold time travel pocket watch from john wheeler and watching the scene pause and all of the people are still and the air is quiet there and everyone is smiling in that place full of money and jumping on top of the counter and and then jumping down onto the floor and putting all the money in the canvas bags and then jumping on top of the counter again and with his arms resting on his nice slacks, looking out at the bank where all the people are paused in time and then out at the door where the light pours in from the outside, the sunshine, and then jumping down onto the tile floor of the city bank, with the business people money and walking out and waiting maybe a few businesses to reset the time to normal and then smiling as all the cars resume their speed, and the whole town scene is the all good news of the american dream with the clean walk of the modern business man, the good day.

while elliott maxwell walks home in the transcendental time beyond normal linear time he thinks he sees another business man on the road but the images are only flashes and strange as the business man only appears in the peripheral of his vision and way far out in front of him and sometimes like twelve or twenty four of the same business man in front of him, dressed in an all black suit just like him and with a single crumpled dollar bill in his left hand and held so that it looks drifted to the left with the direction of the road. 

one man in a business suit with the single dollar bill in his left hand way far out on the road, perhaps a mile, one mile, and stands there looking at the horizon or whatever over in front of the two of them and then looks back and disappears again. 

elliott maxwell walks down the road at seven o’clock, the hour of the evening on the planet earth and thinks to himself, “should i have turned the hour so about this watch that i hallucinate a man dressed such as i to be all about and around this empty road at an hour like this and this day, on this day, and these moments are so dreamlike and do make me wonder of the nature of that i have... seen. perhaps, it is all just a dream of my mind or should there actually be a man dressed in a suit such as i and in this time place then what should i do, for all the warnings to take and consider as i walk alone on this road all the way to and close by bellevue far from the town where i have been growing up this time all along and then this gun i have should be good for me to have.” and “i feel okay here on this road alone in this time made by my, luck gold time travel watch.” 

the one man in the business suit appears and winks at elliott maxwell and places the single american dollar bill in the top pocket of his nice black suit jacket and disappears again.

elliott maxwell feels reassured and relaxes and it calm and for a moment, only a second, thinks that he is dreaming the entire hallucinatory scene with the man dressed in a nice black suit such as himself on the empty road, alone until he, and only a second later, notices the green on the paper dollar bill in his black suit jacket pocket and the fabric is on the blue of the evening, like the water where the dirt is and the steel factory. the blue there is all over the hours, somehow in the air and on everything, sort of... like looking through a rainy day on a window, inside the motor car on the dirt road. maybe they’re all related. anyways, elliott maxwell now has a single crumpled american dollar bill in his nice black suit jacket and knows the man with the nice black suit such as he is real and has been time traveling and appearing in flashes for only seconds of the seconds he has paused on the hour and been on the road all alone with the ten thousand dollars in the nice black suitcase.

elliott maxwell puts the nice black suitcase under his left arm.

elliott maxwell reaches for his gun. it’s black. it’s loaded. the dirt on the road is hard and crunchy and the man is nowhere to be seen. 

elliott maxwell pulls out his gun from the shoulder holster on his left side and cocks the hammer and points his nice black gun in front of him and then he looks around and looks behind himself on the long road from bellevue and looks to the left so fast and to the right, so fast, where the field is beginning to turn to a shadow as the evening sets on the planet earth and the road still looks fairly long. about three miles.

then all of a sudden out of nowhere the man in the nice black suit who had been appearing and disappearing all evening appeared and in five motions, one knocked the gun out of elliott maxwell’s right hand with the back of his left hand then two pushed elliott maxwell in the chest with his right palm like pushing a thirty pound bag of thick flour with the hum lo ra push hands technique and then three pushes the nice black suitcase full of ten thousand american dollars out and away from under elliott maxwell’s arm and then four places his left hand and thumb on elliott maxwell’s left hand and thumb which are on the lucky gold time travel pocket watch and then and finally, five places his three fingers, thumb, ring finger and middle finger on elliott maxwell’s forehead and puts elliott maxwell into a telepathic trance like state with the three fingers glowing, bursting with light on elliott maxwell’s forehead... on the...

“it’s quiet here.”

and the buddha was meditating and was in the nice green garden and there were clocks with the number twelve and all the minutes were at fourteen of the twenty four clocks in the buddhist monastery called the hum lo ra and the moment was comfortable and peaceful and the buddha realized the truth that enlightenment is the natural state of being.

the light from the three points on elliott maxwell’s forehead glow as elliott maxwell returns to normal consciousness in a rush then and quick then and then with an inhale, a fast take of air, the deep breath, the rushing kind, soft and fair and cool with the rush of the moment and time reverses. elliott maxwell falls forwards into the past and the present moment and watches three fingers pull back and sees a hand happen off of his left hand clutching the gold time travel pocket watch and looks out of the corner of his eye at the nice black suit case as it returns to his side, under his arm, and then as his gun returns from turned aside in the air, mid-air and turned about a few turns, to his hand and he feels the flat wall of the resumption of the forwards time there with his lucky gold time travel pocket watch and his arm is then placed with the gun facing upwards towards the sky and he sees a man he has never known before standing in front of him with a nice black suit such as he with a gold time travel pocket watch and with his gun also facing the upwards towards the sky and the man he has never known before standing in front of him with a nice black suit such as he with a gold time travel pocket watch and his gun also facing upwards towards the sky disappears and elliott maxwell finds himself alone on the long, three mile road to everett with a business card in his top black suit jacket pocket and elliott maxwell places his black steel gun back into the left side shoulder holster and then quickly, very quickly retrieves the business card from his top black suit jacket pocket and inspects the business card to see a white card bearing the image of a black ink bicycle and some typewriter type that reads, “the wheeler society” and, and an address located in new york but all the type where the numbers were and the letters reading the street name were all washed out and covered with some dirt. 

elliott maxwell looks up and out at the long, three mile road.

elliott maxwell is standing on the long, blank road, the empty road, with the business card in his hand and ten thousand dollars under his arm and he remembers what happened to him and how the man with the other gun stood there with his gun facing upwards towards the sky and elliott maxwell smiled.

elliott maxwell remembers his father wesley maxwell and remembers a three day vacation when he was fourteen. (the vacation memory)

elliott maxwell goes home that evening and lays down in his comfortable bed, on the right side, closer to the door than before and looks at the card given to him by a man in a nice black suit, a man in a nice black suit who held his gun in the air and walked away. a man in a nice black suit who took his gun out of his hand and put it back. a man in a nice black suit who appeared in many places at once and had a pocket watch. elliott maxwell lays in his comfortable bed with the business card bearing the image of a bicycle pressed in black ink and with the trypewriter type that reads, “the wheeler society” and, and... 

and an address located in new york...

“i wish i could know the... all the type where the numbers were and the letters reading the street name were all washed out and covered with,” elliott maxwell rubs the washed out type with his right hand thumb. “... some dirt.”

elliott maxwell takes a breath, a sigh and presses his brow to a thought of a new york building, the archetypal sort with the windows with most of the lights off and only a few lights, lamps most likely, or ceiling fan lightbulbs, and the thought is a night-time thought and... 

the consideration takes him nowhere. the thought happens upon an empty, clear mental object and the ceiling fan light in his bedroom shines on the walls.

and on the tile floor.

elliott maxwell is holding the business card with the bicycle on it and the faded type in his left hand by the bottom left side corner.

there, the air there is all quiet and calm and still and the moment is... nothing is happening at all. it’s boring. it’s a boring moment.

it’s a boring moment for fifteen minutes or twenty minutes.

“why?” elliott maxwell asks, and not to himself, he just asks the question. “why is the typewriter type all washed out? who was that man on the road back there?”

elliott maxwell notices the washing machine downstairs and considers the washed out type on the wheeler society business card and then he thinks about the pantry, and thinks about getting up to get some bread from the baguette and some cheddar cheese and some moscato and gets up from his comfortable bed in his good bedroom and holds the card in his left hand, more firmly now as he moves towards the door on the right side of the room. “perhaps i’ll find some way to read the address on this business card...” and elliott maxwell throws the wheeler society business card towards the window on the other side of the room and when it passes under the ceiling fan light in his bedroom it flickers...

and the numbers 1521 jaoquin lane new york, new york 10042-1915 flash in decadent silver and the moment is in slow motion now as the card turns and elliott maxwell holds onto the silver, shining silver type bearing the secret information, the address of a new york building in new york and then the business card flies through the air to the window faster than a normal business card would and hits the window...

just then someone knocks at the front door, four times.

“i’ll be right there.” elliott maxwell said.

in that moment, elliott maxwell knows a lot...

and in that moment, elliott maxwell knows a lot about time travel and has seen objects become imbued with the fifth dimensional time travel energy that he travels through with his lucky gold time travel pocket watch.

and elliott maxwell knows that the wheeler society business card from the man in the nice black suit had to have been imbued with some kind of time travel energy... or resonant fifth dimensional energy because the man in the nice black suit is a time traveler...

and he was faster than elliott maxwell, whatever his name was...

the washing machine makes a bell sound, a ding, or a ring-ding, a bright one and elliott maxwell looks down at the tile floor and considers the washing machine and then looks at his watch on his right side wrist. 

the time reads twelve o’clock and one minute and three seconds now...

four seconds now...

five seconds now...

someone knocks at the door four more times...

elliott maxwell looks up from his watch and realizes that the wheeler society business card is on the tile floor under the window in his good bedroom and walks over in his nice black suit to pick up the wheeler society business card that has just... flown across the room after passing through the light of the good bedroom ceiling fan light bulbs... and walks over to the bedroom door to answer the front door, to see who is there...

someone knocks at the front door four more times, again. 

someone knocks at the front door four more times, again and louder this time.

“elliott!” a female voice said with a singing call, “elliott, i’m here to give you a gift elliott!” she sounds blonde and young. 

elliott maxwell knows the woman’s voice. it’s madeline bell, the pretty one from the music store in town. elliott maxwell has had his eye on a particular guitar for some time, a gibson l1 and...

someone knocks at the front door four more times...

“elliott!” madeline bell said with a singing call... 

“elliott maxwell!”

“i’m almost to the door, i’ll be right there.” elliott maxwell said as he walks towards the front door.

elliott maxwell undoes the locks on the front door and opens the front door.

the blonde madeline bell stands at the door with a gibson l1 with a sparkling, red bow on the gibson l1 and smiles and pushes the gibson l1 with the sparkling, red bow towards elliott maxwell.

elliott maxwell reaches out with his left arm this time...

normally elliott maxwell reaches out for things with his right arm, elliott maxwell is right handed, after all.

“thank you mrs. madeline bell.” elliott maxwell said to mrs. bell with cheer. 

“your welcome elliott.” mrs. madeline bell said to elliott maxwell with a smile. 

“you can come inside if you would like.” elliott maxwell said to mrs. madeline bell and mrs. madeline bell smiles and walks into the front guest area and sits down on a comfortable sofa in the living room area and then, “i’ll be just back. the soap here always smells so good, like a duck so i’m going to wash my hands in the bathroom.” mrs. madeline bell tells elliott maxwell.

“sure.” elliott maxwell said and went to fill up a glass of water for the young, pretty mrs. madeline bell.

in the bathroom, in the hall next to the library room, the bathroom smells like flowers, flowers and good soap. the kind of soap that smells like ducks. the kind of soap that smells like ducks smells like the most wonderful kind of duck smell, and most exactly like the saliva produced from the tongue of a duck. the smell is wonderful, it smells like flowers and more gentle and causes comfort by the smell... most wonderful, most wonderful. and mrs. madeline bell is washing her hands in the bathroom with the good smelling soap. it’s as if the soap smells like fish, like the sort of fish that smell like soap or if you’ve ever seen the sort of nautical aesthetic around the sea fairing kind. and anyways, mrs. madeline bell is washing her hands in the bathroom with the most wonderful smelling soap and she thinks of elliott maxwell and feels glad that she has gifted elliott maxwell with the new guitar from her music store that she has noted him noticing for the last few days. mrs. madeline bell washes off the last amount of soap from her hands as the cool water runs onto her hands and she smiles. the cool water feels good in the nice bathroom with a soft red chair and good yellow flowers on the wallpaper border. mrs. madeline bell smiles again in the bathroom and notices the time. it is twelve o’clock and mrs. madeline bell has to think of an excuse as to why she is giving elliott maxwell a guitar so late in the evening, midnight to be exact. 

she thinks quickly.

she realizes that she could have been at the music store cleaning up and arranging items in the store and she had to move the gibson l1 to the stock room and she remembered that the good boy elliott maxwell had been in looking at the gibson l1 a few times and she figured it would be good to give a gift to the talented piano player who said he was all self-taught and had played, played most wonderfully. 

mrs. madeline bell walks down the hall back to the front guest living room and finds elliott maxwell drinking a glass of water and listening to a record quietly by the artist berryman and the champions, soft modern music with the lovely singing. elliott maxwell, seventeen years old, looks over to twenty one year old mrs. madeline bell with beautiful blonde hair and gorgeous green eyes with yellow in the flower petals and with orange and red in the flower petals, most wonderful green eyes, green eyes like green apples fresh on the spring-time tree and rich emeralds... rich emeralds, rich emeralds he sees, elliott maxwell sees rich emeralds in her eyes. her eyes are rich emeralds, beautiful and green. 

mrs. madeline bell goes to sit down on the comfortable plush velvet yellow couch in the front guest living room part of the house room and looks into elliott maxwell’s eyes and tells elliott maxwell, “you know, i’m twenty one and i can drink alcohol now.” and elliott maxwell says, “that’s good. i’m eighteen and my father said i can drink any alcohol i want, whenever i want since i turned twelve and he said that’s good luck to drink alcohol when you’re twelve because eleazar maxwell, my great-great grandfather is named eleazar maxwell ... eleazar maxwell drank some alcohol when he was twelve and so everyone in the family is allowed to drink alcohol when they turn twelve.” mrs. madeline bell is looking at elliott maxwell with her lips pursed with open, kind of up and out, or like a flower, with curiosity and interest. “and we can drink alcohol right now. i have some moscato i was going to drink anyways and i was also going to have some bread from a baguette in the pantry and also a block of some cheddar cheese... from the refrigerator...” elliott maxwell says to mrs. madeline bell. “i was going to enjoy a french style evening while i tried to figure out exactly where a certain address was located in new york. i was going to go to new york then and... pursue an interest of mine.” mrs. madeline bell looks more intently at elliott maxwell and puts her hand on his hand and says, “do tell me what the interest is of...” and elliott maxwell says, “the interest is concerning something of quite a mystery to me but i will tell you because...” and elliott maxwell looks at mrs. madeline bell and says, “...because i feel like i can trust you and we’re about to drink some good alcohol and have a french evening in my fathers house in the front guest living room on this soft, velvet yellow couch with soft, velvet green arm rest pillows and i assume we might fall asleep here on this couch because you’re attractive and i’m attractive and i am a wealthy person here and also, i’m a genius and if i’m correct then my confidence will have taken me to the places i am to be... if that makes sense.” mrs. madeline bell clutches elliott maxwell’s hand gently and says to him, “you know, i’m twenty one and you are seventeen elliott, but i think understand what you’re saying. you’re saying there is some nice alcohol in the kitchen for us, for you for us, and... and i would like some alcohol.” elliott maxwell says, “i’m rich mrs. bell. let’s go have us some alcohol and some nice food.” mrs. madeline bell smiles and says, “okay, let’s drink some alcohol.” and the two paramour get up from the soft velvet yellow couch and walk to the kitchen to get some moscato and glasses for the moscato and plates and silverware for the block of cheese and napkins for the bread crumbs from the bread so the breadcrumbs won’t get on the couch too much because they’re drinking alcohol and... and the breadcrumbs should stay on the plates and the napkins...

“her eyes are very beautiful, like emeralds... like emeralds.” elliott maxwell thinks in the kitchen as the two paramour... happen upon the moscato in the pantry...

...the napkins are for the bread...

paper napkins.

a few of them, paper napkins.

and the block of cheddar cheese can go on the napkins also, or the plates, or whatever... there’s alcohol. it’s a french evening.

the time is now twelve o’clock and twenty four minutes and forty four seconds.

in the library room there is a book entitled, “the green flower encyclopedia of love” the forty fourth edition by rachael mary and the book has four hundred and forty four pages in it and it’s on the fourth shelf and it has four corners. all books have four corners but the number four is here a lot... a lot a lot. 

the book is all about flowers and filled with love poetry. 

really good love poetry, it’s prose. wow.

the two paramour drank and talked a lot, mostly about philosophy and each other and asked each other lots of personal questions to get to know each other and drank the good moscato wine from the pantry and had a good time and talked until and into the fourth hour of the french evening and then mrs. madeline bell fell asleep on elliott maxwell’s shoulder as they talked and then elliott maxwell woke up mrs. madeline bell from his shoulder and told her, “let’s lay down on this soft, velvet yellow couch with soft, velvet green arm rest pillows and we’ll dream good dreams.” and so then, the two paramour fell asleep on the soft, velvet yellow couch with soft, velvet green arm rest pillows laying down and dreamed good dreams. 

on the floor, under the soft, velvet yellow couch with the soft, velvet green arm rest pillows is the receipt with the address

1521 jaoquin lane new york, new york 10042-1915

scribbled on it with a smooth black ink pen, the sort that doctors use.

the note was there all night, ever since elliott maxwell wrote it down on a receipt that he got from the bank that he stole all that ten thousand dollars from. he took the receipt because it was stylish and cool to print a receipt for all the money he stole since he knew he was going to get away with it because he has a lucky time travel gold pocket watch from the old man john wheeler.

seven hours pass and the twelfth hour of the day is on. the sunlight shines from outside and through the front guest living room window onto the tile floor in the front guest living room.

it’s the morning and elliott maxwell is waking up. it is twelve o’clock in the morning and the sun is shining in through the front guest living room window. the air is crisp and clean and the atmosphere is flat there. 

mrs. madeline bell is laying on top of elliott maxwell and her head is resting on his chest, she dreams she is married with elliott maxwell and they are living a most wonderful life in the year nineteen nineteen when elliott maxwell is available to marry after having cleared his schedule for the autumn months.

elliott maxwell taps mrs. madeline bell’s shoulder with his index finger for her to wake up and she wakes from her dreaming slumber and smiles that she on top of elliott maxwell in elliott maxwell’s mansion. mrs. madeline finds her way to standing on the tile floor of the front guest living room area from elliott maxwell who is laying on the soft, velvet yellow couch and stands up to tell elliott maxwell, “i’m ready for breakfast and i can help with breakfast unless you are ready to make all the breakfast for the both of us.” and elliott maxwell says, “i can make the breakfast for the both of us.” and mrs. madeline bell says, “we can both make the breakfast this good morning.” and the two paramour in the lovely morning smile at each other. the two paramour in the lovely morning make breakfast. eggs and bacon and toast and orange juice and oranges and pears and bananas and peaches and apples and coconuts and pineapples and even some strawberries and blueberries and, and even some delectable flowers from the yard that florence maxwell has brought in since she’s been gardening since ten o’clock this morning and the maxwell family eats flowers. 

the two paramour are enjoying breakfast at twelve o’clock since the first meal of the day is breakfast even if the hour is past seven o’clock or eight o’clock and especially if the meal food entrees are breakfast food like eggs and toast and orange juice and an assortment of fruits and even a few delectable flowers from the yard that florence maxwell has brought in, from earlier this morning... around breakfast time, or after or whatever...

elliott maxwell is making a call to book a ticket for a train to new york, new york for four o’clock and talks on the telephone for a few minutes and asks mrs. madeline bell, “would you like to attend me on my journey to new york, new york so that i can figure out the meaning of this business card?” and elliott maxwell holds up the business card with the bicycle image on it, pressed with black ink and the faded, washed out type and mrs. madeline bell says, “sure, i would love to attend you on your journey to new york, new york so that we can figure out the meaning of this business card.” the time is takes for the train to get to new york, new york from seattle, washington is three days and eight hours. and so then elliott maxwell told the person on the telephone at the airport business, “so, then i would like to order two tickets on that train to new york, new york because i have a guest traveling with me, i mean, my associate, she’s, her name is madeline bell and we would like two tickets to the new york, new york at four o’clock.” and elliott maxwell took another drink from a bottle of moscato at the twelve o’clock in the morning. “first class.”

elliott maxwell hangs up the telephone after finishing the conversation with the train station employee.

elliott maxwell picks up the newspaper on the table and starts looking through the new york times newspaper and is looking for the fashion section of the new york times newspaper with all of the latest fashion trends...

“by the way, the reason i am traveling to new york, new york by airplane this afternoon is because i have a lucky gold time travel pocket watch and i intend on stealing a lot of money from a lot of banks and this business card with the bicycle image printed on it will lead me, i think, to some powerful people who might have a considerable amount of wealth...” 

elliott maxwell thinks back to when the man in the nice black suit on the long road from that town he stole the ten thousand dollars from a bank from put the ten thousand dollars back under his left arm and thinks, “why did i mention the possible amount of wealth?” and then mrs. madeline bell says, “... and then?” while elliott maxwell looks through the fashion section of the new york times newspaper.

“uh, ...” elliott maxwell moves the new york times newspaper to the left and bends the newspaper inwards from the top right-side corner, his right-side, her left-side... he’s reading the new york times newspaper so it’s the right side, since he’s reading the new york times newspaper, and looks at mrs. madeline bell in the eyes and says,

“and i think they wanted me to find their building. it appears to be a nice hotel and when i called the number on the business card on the telephone there was a dial-tone but it just kept ringing which leads me to believe that there is electricity there, or that at least someone is paying the electric bill there but when i called the new york city business council they said there was no such address that existed, even the zip code doesn’t exist in their registry.”

“what’s the zipcode?” mrs. madeline bell asked.

“10042-1915″

“oh,...” mrs. madeline bell said.

(that was the fourth chapter)

hours pass and elliott maxwell and mrs. madeline bell are on the airplane on their way to new york, new york in the first class section with fine drinks and cigarettes and it is four in the afternoon. 

the two paramour, elliott maxwell and mrs. madeline bell, are sitting across from each other having conversations about visiting art museums, the ones on parlor boulevard and taking walks about the arts district, and visiting james maxwell, elliott maxwell’s brother who has been taking six-week vacations to new york since nineteen-fourteen for and quote, “personal studies with a french architect who knows how to edit professional films and has made plans to assist wesley maxwell with films in the near future”, unquote. and elliott maxwell had considered making plans to see james maxwell for the last three weeks ever since james maxwell boarded a train to go to new york, new york three weeks ago and told elliott maxwell, “i am going to take more french lessons with adalene legrand. me and adalene legrand are in love. i wish you the best.” 

the maxwell brothers have tended to like teachers over the years and because the maxwell family is rich the maxwell brothers have purchased a decent amount of private tutoring time with their favorite teachers. they learned a lot. it was a good time.

on the train, on the train... elliott maxwell and mrs. madeline bell are on the train to new york and elliott maxwell has decided to meditate on the seat of the passenger car crossed legged with his right leg under the left leg and his right hand, karate chop style, placed in front of his forehead to meditate on his third eye. the seats on the train are comfortable and blue and have golden designs on the soft fabric, they’re like flowers and with the typical, common dancing pedicels all over, all over the nice blue fabric. 

there is one bed and then a sliding door which leads to a living room type room with one nice blue couch, and two places to sit. one is a blue chair. 

there is another sliding door and then past that is a room with one long blue couch and a long flat, cherry oak wooden table with a slick finish on it and then there is large, thick glass window the size of an entire wall which one can look on the horizon from.

the train is a locomotive. the train is the steam engine locomotive.

for three days the paramour talk and chat and enjoy the train ride all the way from seattle, washington to new york, new york and the two paramour arrive in new york, new york at midnight exactly. one puff of smoke happened there out of the chimney, the... the smokestack. one puff, or a lot, maybe it was a lot of smoke and it billowed out at midnight and perhaps it was so much that someone mistakenly identified the smoke for rain clouds and hurried to purchase a yellow rain coat and anyways, the two paramour are walking to the building on jaoquin lane in new york, new york and it’s dark outside and the moon is out, a glowing yellow one like a big wheel of cheese only, still real, and there are clouds out and the streets of the new york are empty on the planet earth. 

a yellow taxi cab drives by. you can see the puddle of rain water splash there on the street.

“we’re here. this is address.” elliott maxwell looks down at his worn out business card with a black bicycle printed on it in black ink and the faded type and elliott maxwell reads out loud, “1521 jaoquin lane new york, new york 10042-1915.″ “how can you read that? it’s all washed out, there’s dirt here.” mrs. madeline bell said and rubbed the business card where the dirt is and the where the address had once been printed. “i threw this business card in my room across the room and through the light coming from the ceiling fan and then i felt as if time slowed down and i saw the address printed with silver, shining silver letters and then the business card threw itself into the window in my bedroom and then the business card fell to the floor. that’s how i know the address to this building. it looks like it’s abandoned.” 

elliott maxwell and mrs. madeline bell hold hands and look at the black building on jaoquin lane in new york, new york.

elliott maxwell lights one cigarette and gives one cigarette to mrs. madeline bell and says,

“let’s go inside. i’m sure someone will talk to us about whatever all of this is about. i have ten thousand dollars to give them for the secret if it means anything to them and if i have to, i’ll pause time with this lucky gold time travel pocket watch and steal the secrets from right under their noses, for free.” 

and then elliott maxwell and mrs. madeline bell walk up to the front door of the building at fifteen twenty-one jaoquin lane in new york, new york one hundred forty-two nineteen fifteen and elliott maxwell knocks on the door three times with his hand in a fist and his palm facing the door. the door is painted black and there is a gold door knob and there sounds like there is the shuffling of feet on the other side and the organizing of papers and maybe there are other people on the other side of the black door with the gold door knob. 

elliott maxwell waits four seconds and then presses on the black door with the gold door knob with his right shoulder...

the door pushes open.

“hey,” the two paramour look at each other with smiling and cheer and elliott maxwell continues to say, “the door is open.” and turns to look from mrs. madeline bells emerald eyes to see an empty building. there is no one inside. only newspapers littered around and some of the windows are smashed and there is a single telephone with the box opened up revealing metal components and copper wires, all tangled up with each other and some of them are disconnected, on the wall about three hundred meters into the black building at midnight, emitting sparks frequently. now it is twelve o’clock and thirty minutes, inside of an empty black building in new york, new york on joaquin lane. 

elliott maxwell can see the telephone on the wall by the moonlight coming in from the broken windows and the light from the ghosts of businessmen and feels compelled to repair the telephone on the wall and elliott maxwell repairs the telephone in three minutes and calls the number on the wheeler society business card by spinning the call wheel, like this, to the right, clock-wise, one and then one and then two and then... 

“you know, i was thinking, maybe all those ghosts were really just the  ehloyvaiyvelerarerarerarer.” 

“the what?” mrs. madeline bell asked elliott maxwell.

“the holy ghost mrs. madeline bell.” elliott maxwell said.

three and then seven and then one and, and the call wheel clicks and rings, then two and then zero and then eight and then zero and the telephone only puts out static, silence, nothing and in the static elliott maxwell can hear a dial tone and then the dial tone grows and breaks through the reality like a dream, like a telephone conversation is breaking through crumpled paper, trash, newspaper trash and the ghosts of the past or the ghosts of the future or ghosts or whatever and the lights inside of the black building on joaquin lane in new york, new york flicker on and off and then... someone answers the telephone. 

“good day elliott maxwell... this is, the wheeler society. my name is benjamin alexander. i am a spy.” elliott maxwell takes a drag of his cigarette. “we are interested in working with you. if you would like to find out who we are and what we do, click that gold pocket watch and press the telephone into(s) the wall.” the telephone goes cold and there is only white noise, white noise and dry static. 

benjamin alexander does some cocaine from a newspaper on a desk with a one hundred dollar bill, on the other side of the wall, invisible to elliott maxwell, and smokes a cigarette and takes a drink of milk from on the desk resting in front of the automatic picture analytics processor machine which blinks information on a screen and prints reports that indicate that elliott maxwell is about to press the telephone into the wall. the clock on the wall lets out a bell sound three times and then the wheeler society members in the room on the other side of the wall are in transcendental time and are ready to receive elliott maxwell and his guest, mrs. madeline bell.

elliott maxwell stands up to hold mrs. madeline bell’s hand and while walking a few feet over to her pulls the lucky gold time travel pocket watch from the inside jacket pocket of his black suit jacket and pulls the notch and grabs mrs. madeline bell’s hand and then presses the notch. elliott maxwell and mrs. madeline bell are now in transcendental time and still holding each other’s hands, the two paramour walk to the wall with the sparking telephone and elliott maxwell presses the telephone into the wall and the telephone machine goes into the wall three inches and then the wall begins to turn to the left and another room is seen here, there are lights on and the sound of business activities with machines printing and cigarette smoke and people on telephones and the two paramour walk into the office on the other side of the telephone machine wall. 

and the smell of cigarettes and flowery perfume dressed the air in that room, on the planet earth, in new york, new york, in... inside of a building that... inside of a building that...

some rain pours outside, the lights of a lamp light on the street shine on the drops... and someone fluffs some pillows in their house...

inside of a building that appears to have no record... 

in any database...

in the world...

dream sounds on the scenery there, the theater of life... a golden apple levitates...

elliott maxwell and mrs. madeline bell walk into the office building filled with twenty four people who are dressed in casual business attire and there are people walking around with files in their hands in a room filled with smoke and flowery perfume and the two paramour look at the busy room for seven seconds and then the man who, the man in the nice black business suit who had approached elliott maxwell on the road and had appeared in many a psychedelic form and all around him and so fast about the picture-esque scenary and who had given him back his gold time travel pocket watch and who had put back the ten thousand dollars in his black suit case and placed a business card in his hand and then disappeared on the road and the man in the black business suit greets elliott maxwell for the first time and says, “welcome to the wheeler society elliott maxwell, my name is jon york. i am a spy for the american government. i am a federal agent in the central intelligence agency. the wheeler society is beyond the government, beyond the c.i.a. and is totally private, privatrau, the wheeler society is an independent social company. we’re going to need to do a polygraph test now, it’s only three questions so you’ll be okay and i know you stole that ten thousand dollars from that bank when i met you on that road back there but i don’t care, we all...” jon york looks around the office and other wheeler society members look at him, “we all steal here. we steal the gold of the whole world and we are the shadow pushers of the american government. we are the whole world.”

jon york puts his hand on elliott maxwell’s shoulder and says, “elliott maxwell, meet aaden lucksee.” and turns to aaden lucksee and says, “aaden lucksee” and motions to elliott maxwell, “meet elliott maxwell.” elliott maxwell and aaden lucksee shake each others hands and jon york says, “aaden lucksee will show you to your room. this place is also like a hotel for us and you have a home here with us. when i was on that road with you there in washington, i saw your heart. you were stealing money and you weren’t violent. your gun had all the bullets in it and you seemed like the buddhist i know you are. i know you’re a buddhist. i read the machination data collection report. you’re good with us.”

elliott maxwell and madeline bell were shown to their fancy, luxury hotel room and aaden lucksee gave elliott maxwell ten thousand dollars and a black gun and said, “that’s for your safety on the island. everyone who gets to this point gets one.” and “if you need anything just call this number, it actually works anywhere, like normal, i mean like in the real world, normal life. the number is three one seven four two four five three and five four. just call and ask for octavio, or anyone. just tell the operator on the telephone what you need and they will take care of everything for you.” and then elliott maxwell and mrs. madeline bell slept in the luxury hotel room all night and were woken up at seven o’clock in the morning by aaden lucksee and they were told they could eat their breakfast in the hotel room if they wanted or they could eat in the cafeteria with the other members of the wheeler society.

“we’re members of the wheeler society now?” mrs. madeline bell asked aaden lucksee.

“well i suppose you might as well be, you look the part and... and i hope you become official members of the wheeler society, uhm, officially.” aaden lucksee said and pointed his index finger upwards into the air with joyful optimism.

“why, thanks aaden, what is it like to be a time traveler?” mrs. madeline bell asked aaden lucksee. 

“good, i steal gold from the past all the time and i get richer everyday and i have the greatest time with all of my colleagues working towards the same goal and we’re all safe because felix maxwell set up the whole, ‘the american government steals all the gold in the world with time travel machinations like bandits’ with the american government in eighteen thirty one, you’ll find out about that. it’s in the training manual you’ll get and especially since elliott maxwell is a maxwell. do you know felix maxwell, elliott maxwell?”

“felix maxwell? yes. he’s my father, wesley maxwell’s brother. felix maxwell is a federal agent and a book writer. i always wanted to write books like felix maxwell has, the books he writes are wonderful. wonderful and good.” elliott maxwell said to aaden lucksee as he nibbled at the cilantro on his plate, minimally and laid back on the fancy hotel bed and then started on the eggs as he smoked a cigarette. 

“yes they are good. the books are interesting and really come to life, the best. just the best.” aaden lucksee said to elliott maxwell. 

“what time is the whole evaluation process at?” elliott maxwell asked aaden lucksee.

aaden lucksee looks far off and says, with a monotone stare, 

“twelve o’clock and thirty minutes. exactly. by the way, we are in the transcendental time now and only a few seconds have passed in the outside world. if you were to look outside of your window you would see the moon still shining and the black of the night on the new york city buildings and motor-cars and yellow taxis and people on bicycles, all still and totally paused to us while we still have the ability to move around normally and do whatever we want in the real world.”

“so, twelve o’clock it is and then...” and elliott maxwell flips an green olive with the red pimento in the center of the green olive into his mouth on the comfortable hotel bed.

the company continue their conversation and then aaden lucksee left the two paramour to their comfortable hotel room and the two paramour fall asleep and are dreaming of being in love and dreaming dreams together, romantic dreams with the frills and fancy of luxury all about the dream, like ribbons, like ribbons and banners of gold, like flowers, much so like greek styles, the greek styles resembling strength and passion and gentle care.

(the breakfast and then activities during the day) 

it’s midnight on wednesday, august eighth in the year nineteen eighteen.

elliott maxwell and mrs. madeline bell are standing in the office of oceanne alice donnadieu.

“this watch is for you. it’s a gold time travel pocket watch.” oceanne alive donnadieu said to mrs. madeline bell and gave her a gold time travel pocket watch, identical to the one elliott maxwell has.

mrs. madeline bell smiles and says, “thank you.”

“press the notch to the right of the clock on the pocket watch.” mrs. madeline bell looks down at the gold time travel pocket watch and then looks back up at mrs. madeline bell and then back down at the gold time travel pocket watch and presses the notch to the right of the clock on the pocket watch. time stops.

mrs. madeline bell looks around the room on wednesday, august eighth at twelve o’clock, the midnight hour, and all of everyone in the room is totally still, and… mrs. madeline bell is in the transcendental time beyond the transcendental time since everyone was already in transcendental time in the whole wheeler society office.

mrs. madeline bell notices some flowers outside of the office window that are falling off the tree. yellow flowers. beautiful yellow flowers falling, totally paused in time, staying there in mid-air in the moonlight of the black midnight hour. mrs. madeline bell looks around the room and everyone is still paused and for the first time in her life she realizes that she is someone great, someone who now has the power of time travel and can be in a world where everyone is paused in time, or where she is beyond, beyond the natural time, where she is in transcendental time. mrs. madeline bell is in the transcendental time beyond the transcendental time. mrs. madeline bell is now a great, great person.

mrs. madeline bell pulls the notch on the gold time travel pocket watch and then presses the notch on the gold time travel pocket watch.

“well, press it. did you press it just now when i had said that, when i told you to press the notch to the right of the clock on the pocket watch? did time stop?” oceanne alice donnadieu takes a pause and puts her pencil with a soft, bouncy eraser to her lip and looks up to the right side corner of her right eye. “did it appear as if time stopped?”

“yes, why yes it did appear as time stopped. time was stopped. i was in the transcendental time all by myself while you, elliott maxwell and jon york were all paused in the office and i turned to the window to watch the yellow flowers fall from the tree outside, just right outside.” mrs. madeline bell said to oceanne alice donnadieu.

“those flowers do fall from the tree from time to time. congratulations, you were just in the transcendental time beyond the transcendental time on this midnight hour on wednesday, august eighth nineteen eighteen.”

(in the original version the events occurred in the year nineteen seventeen and the date of the year has been changed to cushion the dream of the events and the whole reason why makes more sense when one knows why the date of the year has been changed to cushion the dream of the events in the story because, well, it makes sense to know things that one knows.)

teleportation to the tele’varillion islands...

arriving to the island, the beach, fancy hotel part, machination wall, maps wall

inside of an office hall, the calling the t.v. person reading all the notes, person saying “larelleon” person reading the sand, weighing 100lb of gold to a feather within the presence of the grandfather, eleazer maxwell, if the feather weighs the same, then it’s all “congratulations, you’re a maxwell!” with a woman the feather levitates. hooked up to ekd, polygraph, telephones, television, gps, and lights, stereos and headphones.

1123712080

kether

animal crackers and rain forest shirt 

  the next part is on the airplane and then the new york part with the wheeler society and then the time travel adventure and then the relaxing home part.

sure, wesley maxwell owns the motion picture company.

put it in the book. 

  the evening goes well and the two drink moscato until they both fall asleep on the yellow velvet living room couch with the green velvet arm rest pillows, the one’s with soft, frilly fabric on the edges of the green velvet arm rest pillows... and with love...

... / ... and i’ve been having these dreams of a man dressed in a vacation flower shirt and a black suit jacket playing guitar on the plaza in some town in new mexico and he’s singing the most wonderful melodies about dreams and such and such the likes of, ... such beautiful melodies... 

progression, the book article sections get longer and longer until there is twenty pages of full normal book pages 

the gift from madeline bell (7)  and then going to new york and then meeting the wheeler society on the island and then one long time travel adventure and then one relaxing story at the house (just one more chapter... just one more chapter... just one more chapter)

silver last name

m / a-created 

maxwell

m>/a->x/well

puts him into a trance state

lays him flat on the ground to read his mind

and then the telepathic time traveler jon york rewinds the seconds and minutes on the pocket watch to twenty minutes and holds the pocket watch close to his teeth so he can stop the seconds exactly and press the pocket watch notch on time to resume the forwards motion of the time 

jon york 

more than one time travel watch

time travel bicycle

    a man that builds clocks and makes a lot of money selling clocks and then someone buys a clock one day and time travel acquires the time travel clock

the person who acquires the time travel clock can stop time, slow time and speed up time and travel to the future or to the past or to anywhere in time 

the time traveler starts to steal money from banks, just a little bit, a thousand dollars and then a lot, one million dollars!

the time traveler meets someone in a business suit who tells them about the eyes of time and that they have to respect time and then tells them they saw them taking the money from the banks and then they have a time travel chase around the town and then the business suit time traveler tells the time traveler that they have a special situation set up with the other original time travelers who stole all the money first and that’s how they knew who was doing what and then they offer to take them to their private island bank to give them some free money, real money and tells them that all the money used to be made of gold and then the original time travelers ran around and replaced all the gold there ever was with paper notes. what a trick. and now the time travelers have all the real money and everyone else has the pretend money and the time travelers put numbers on everything so they even know where are all their pretend money is since it’s real money now and it is real money since it’s pretend and it’s got the numbers so everyone wins because of the numbers and there’s lots and lots of money out there. 

the man who builds the clocks is apart of the time travelers secret society and made time travel clocks to find others to see who would be found by the spirit of time travel and most clock makers are, that’s why they’re all old. they’re just pretending but the spirit of time travel makes them want to pretend they’re old because of the whole father time myth and some story about all the time travelers being only one person and it took a long time to get all the money because there’s so much time but it doesn’t matter. there are lots of myths about time and time travel, mostly about getting stuff for free and how to do math with philosophy, the truth.

in order to get in you have to take a polygraph test. you get ten thousand dollars just for taking the polygraph test and if you pass then you can have one million dollars for free and join the secret time traveler society and start stealing all the money in the world today. there’s a whole schedule of machinations and it’s all the gold from ten thousand b.c. to now which in total is twelve thousand years and there’s some speculation that this all might be a dream, my dream or your dream, since the number twelve is involved.

there are twenty four members of the time travel secret society.

in any given century or country or whatever. 

Mr. Sterling offered the prestigious position to Elliott Maxwell because Elliott Maxwell made himself apart of a time travel machination the way he acquired the time travel clock, with pure luck and looking at the clock on the wall at a desk on the wheeler society island. 

The Wheeler Society.

the emblem looks like the figure on the back of bicycle playing cards. the time travelers eventually started time traveling on bicycles to travel easier, smoother and faster. 

the wheeler society was into magic, naturally because of their time travel power and they eventually each took one card as their own from an original tarot deck by some jewish mystic who was the first ever tarot card maker to make actual magic tarot decks that could control life.

synchronicity with the time numbers / numbers / letters and words

there are objects inside of the clocks like feathers or dirt or gold or sand 

a man that makes magic clocks and dreams of the waverly, the time travel orb clock and the waverly time travels. 

inside of a house

something strange happens, the clocks work so good

the clocks are so beautiful

the clocks have gold on them

time travel 

  twilight zone 

[jesus-discarted-underwear]

First of all, adding the music to my playlist <3

Second, if you were to write a book what would it be about? I'm personally a writer and everything I write is about lesbians in a cottage in Italy. It's a curse and a blessing that god has laid upon me

(also I knew you were not like other girls. Why else would you use the phrase "opposite of a foot fetish" and send my mind into a dark spiral) (is it hands? Or would one find the lack of feet exciting? *sees a completely blank picture* "oh LAWD I'm bout to BUST" )

What issues could you possibly have with cargo shorts??

You are indeed very gay which makes me assume that you are between 21-23 OR exactly 34 years old. Every bloody lesbian on this site I've spoken to is in that agerange

Where would you say all these fbi agents are hidden then? And how do they spawn into existence?

#in which goddamn country do you live? I'm trying to figure out your timezone and I'm lowkey wondering if you're austrailian

<3 gay those arent even the best ones come on babe i cant even read let alone write ya know someone has to take the task of writing abt lesbians in a cottage in Italy bet youre almost the next Sappho (look ok,,,,,, its the opposite of a foot fetish in that feet give me the ICK like the ickiest ick known to man i suppose technically the true opposite would be a thing for hands) i feel like all cargo shorts ever are actually very scratchy dont get me wrong i love function over fashion but cargo shorts pushes that to the extreme oh and i'd want cargo shorts with like 20 pockets that'd be too much pocket to pant ratio ok 20 individual pockets or a pocket that is just the whole pant leg i WISH i was 34 but alas all lesbians ever actually just pop outta the womb and are 20 the fbi men are maybe on mars (which is why the musk rat man wants to get to mars so badly) or in the white house basement since they work for the government,,,,, theyre grown in lil test tubes but much like lesbians they're just are fully grown and are 34, super buff, and have a moustache and then they sit in their lil cubicles and watch ppl