#donna tartt i just wanna talk

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely!! could I request stargaze for your summer bash! My favorite song is Goodnight and Go by Imogen Heap, and my favorite book is The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. My gender preference is male & I am a part of the marauders & stranger things fandoms :)!

Hmm I wanna say James! Don't get me wrong the goldfinch is something that would probably be too heavy for him to enjoy along with you but he certainly wouldn't protest to you talking about it (and I think he'd get really interested over time, aside from just loving to hear you talk) but I think the vibes of go and goodnight suit him best!

[worm-priest]

Here's A Little Get-To-Know-You Tag Game!

Tagged by: @comflexing thank you so much, I love talking about myself <3

Name(s): Silver. Irl I use my legal name but I have very mixed feelings about it and in the recent years I learned I don't like using it.

Pronouns: I literally don't know. I use my assigned ones while I speak in polish but in english i just like whatever. I honestly like the idea of people adressing me however they want

Star Sign: virgo

# of Siblings & Fun Facts About Them (if you have any): I have an older brother and I feel like atp if you've talked with me or you've been reading my posts for some time you've heard about him. People sometimes think we're twins.

# of Pets: none :C but i really want to get a cat

Fandoms: Mostly kpop now - p1harmony, ateez and skz but I used to be pretty active in the my chemical romance fandom. I have a lot of fandoms I interract with here and there but I'm not super active in them. Some of these are the aftg series, The Secret History book, The "streamer" and "youtuber" Fundy

Favourite Colour: probably purple

Favourite Song: It used to be This is What They Do To Guys Like Us in Prison and This is How I Disappear by MCR so I have to pay respect to them. My favorite now might be I Am You by P1harmony

Favorite Author: Donna Tartt

Hobbies: I love drawing and painting. I used to want to get into an art school but we didnt have any good ones here :( I also love reading and cooking/baking. I've been also really into taking care of plants and I have to stop propagating new ones

Favourite Holiday: to be honest I dislike holidays as a whole

Do You Have Any Partner(s)?: I don't and idk about the possibility of that. I'm not fully aromantic but my idea of what I'd allow in a relationship is so strict that I feel like I'd be restrictng my partner :/

Fun facts about you/anything extra you wanna share!: I study psychology and I'm also pretty interested in true crime stories. I give private english lessons and I'm considering being an english teacher in the future but I actually have no idea what I'd like to do

tagging: @1-800-angel-glow, @porcelaindolls-and-paperflowers

Obviously no pressure at all, if you don't want to participate!!!

[wands-natsthing]

𝐈𝐟 𝐈’𝐦 𝐒𝐨 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

Hii I haven’t written anything in months so hopefully this isn’t like bad 

Plsss like and comment if ya wanna I love reading them and it's so motivating

And feedback is more than welcomed. 

Warings: This is like previous high school student x teachers kinda sorta reader was 18 when that was happening tho no smut yet but will be implied in the future. Panic attacks, Axe’s body spray. That’s all i think but if you recognize anymore lemme know pls!! 

Word count: 1.5k 

Summary: You're in love with your high school English teacher Wanda but at graduation she’s like I love you too but we can’t so then five years pass and you see her at a cafe with another red headed woman.

They say high school is a time of self-discovery, forming relationships that could last a lifetime, and navigating the endless possibilities of first experiences. For you, high school was wrapped up in the lunches you shared with Mrs.Wanda Maximoff, your 

12th-grade English teacher.

The unusual friendship started with a shared love for classic literature and a mutual understanding of feeling out of place. Mrs. Maximoff had a way of making Shakespeare's complicated content relatable and understandable by intertwining them with life lessons that resonated with you. 

She was different from other teachers. She was patient, helped you with your homework when you couldn't understand the difference between dependent and independent clauses, listened more than she spoke. When she did speak, her words were thoughtful and impactful, often leaving you to think long and hard after class had ended.

Your lunch sessions together started by accident, really. 

On a particularly busy day, when the crowded hallways were more overwhelming than usual, your anxiety was on the brink of turning into a full-blown panic attack. You found refuge in her classroom. Mrs. Maximoff was there, her eyes scanning over a copy of Donna Tartt's "The Secret History." She looked up, saw your distressed state, and, without a word, brought you into her embrace. 

The smell of her expensive perfume didn't burn your nose like the smell of Bath and Body Works, Axe cologne, and body odor in the hallways usually did. 

She calms you down using the softest voice you've ever heard. 

"You're doing so well, darling. Now tell me, what are three things you can smell?" 

"Your perfume,"  you answered. The strong feminine scent overwhelmed your senses in the best way possible. 

"Oh yeah, it does smell pretty good, doesn't it? You're doing so well for me, sweet girl." 

When you were finally calm, she shared her lunch with you. While eating, we talked about everything but schoolwork, music, movies, and favorite books and authors. It was the first time you truly felt seen and heard. 

These lunches became a part of your routine. Every day, you'd sit in her classroom during lunch hour, the chaos of the school melting away as we engage ourselves in conversation about anything and everything. 

There was a silent agreement to keep these lunches between us, our little secret.  

However, as weeks turned into months, your feelings toward Mrs. Maximoff began to change. It was initially subtle, a flutter of the heart when she smiled, a longing to be near her more than our lunches and class time allowed. 

When you realized these feelings you panicked. You knew that they were wrong but just couldn't help yourself. The tabooness of a student having romantic feelings for their teacher was probably the most exciting part about it. 

You fought with your conscience on a daily basis, constantly reminding yourself of the boundaries that should not be crossed, the rules that you both would be breaking, and how she could lose her job. But your heart didn't care. You wanted her, and you were determined to figure out if she wanted you as well. 

As spring transitioned into summer, your feelings continued to grow. Graduation was approaching, and you had made up your mind to express the feelings you had for Mrs. Maximoff on that day.

Graduation day was filled with excitement as students threw their graduation caps and rushed to their loved ones with their diplomas, but you were only interested in finding Mrs. Maximoff. You spotted her talking with someone's parents among the crowd of excited students. You began making your way toward her. The closer you got to her, the more your eyes met. She stopped talking to the parents and turned all her attention to you. Mrs. Maximoff reached out her hands to hold yours while whispering in your ear, 

"I'm so proud of you."  

"Thank you, Wanda," you uttered softly, the sound of her name sweet on your lips. 

When you look back at her face, you see her nose scrunch up the way it always does when she's blushing.With your heart beating out of your chest, you thought now would be as good a time as ever to proclaim your love to her. 

"Hey, Wanda, I need to tell you something," she can tell in your tone of voice that it's serious."

"Whatever it is, you can tell me," she reassures you with a concerned look in her eyes.

"This year has been amazing, the best year in school I've ever had, and I have you to thank for it. I think about that day when you saved me from the hallways all the time, and it was the best day of my life because I met you. As I got to know you, you became more than my 12th-grade English teacher, more than Mrs. Maximoff. I got to know Wanda, and it has been my biggest joy. I guess what I'm trying to say is. I love you, Wanda Maximoff." 

You finish your declaration with tears in your eyes, but Wanda's devastating look turns tears of joy and relief into tears of sadness.

"I love you too," she whispered back, her voice carrying a mixture of sorrow, excitement, and apprehension. "But you're about to start a new chapter of your life. College is not just about studying; it's also about experiencing new things, and I don't want to be the thing holding you back from doing that. I'm ten years older than you. I've had my fun, and now it's time for you to have yours, but please know that I enjoyed our time together just as much, if not more, than you did. Maybe if the circumstances were different, then we could have made this work, but we're just in different places in our lives right now."

Your heart sank. 

Though you knew she was right, you didn't want to hear that. The logical part of you agreed with her, but your heart didn't care. You longed to be with her.

"Okay, um, thank you. Bye," you mumbled tearfully while walking away. You could hear her call out for you, but you didn't have it in you to turn back. Embarrassed and  heartbroken, you left the graduation stadium, ready to experience all the "new things." She said you would hopefully find it. 

That was five years ago. 

Now, at your college graduation with a Master's in library science. All the memories from high school just came flooding back into your mind. You never stopped thinking about Wanda after that day. Every time you would sit by yourself in the campus cafe, you would often think about all the lunches the two of you shared together. 

You had received an offer to work in your high school's library after college, which made you ecstatic. You've always loved your high school's library. It's the best one you've ever visited. 

However, you're concerned about whether Wanda still works there. In the past five years, you haven't tried to look for or talk to her at all. 

You rented an apartment that would be closer to the school when it started in August. You decided to stop at the coffee shop where you would get your hot pumpkin spice latte, even in the summer months. You remembered when you would occasionally bring Wanda one as well. 

When you walked in you heard the familiar bell that would ring anytime someone walked in or out. After you order your drink you settle at a table near the window loving the view it offers. As you take in the scenery you hear a familiar laugh. That couldn't possibly be- You thought as you turned around. 

Your eyes met a sight that took your breath away. 

There was Wanda looking as gorgeous as ever just like she was five years ago. Her hair color hadn't changed; it was the auburn color of red you adored, even her laughter that was echoing throughout the cafe was the same. Across from her sat another redheaded woman, their fingers laced together, sharing a moment of what looked to be pure love and happiness. 

The sight filled you with mixed emotions. You were happy that she was happy, but you couldn't help but feel envy bubbling up inside you. That should be me. 

As you stood up to leave not even caring about how sweet the pumpkin spice flavor on your tongue would be. You hear her laughter subsided. Wanda's gaze wandered and locked with yours. For a brief moment, time stood still, and memories rushed back. 

A smile, warm and understanding, on her lips as she gave a small wave. You go to wave back, but you're paralyzed. Unable to move or breathe. The only thing that brings you back is the sound of your name being called. “Y/n…Pumpkin spice latte hot?" The barista called out. 

"Y- yes, that's me." You replied quickly, grabbing your coffee and practically running out of there. 

You couldn't believe you just saw her again and in the midst of self-patronizing for not waving back and standing there like a deer in headlights. You had one thought. 

Who is that woman? 

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

Lemme know what you think!! and if you want more

[heroes-by-david-bowie]

*at Donna Tartt's window* *breathing hard* I just wanna talk.

[creepling]

🍄: what was your very first fandom? Did it inspire you to write or did that come later? When did your passion for art start and what artist/writer was most influential for you?

hello shroomie!!

ugh man my first fandom was one direction, can’t deny that. i was big on harry potter, narnia, percy jackson too but didn’t discover the fandoms until i was using the internet at like 12.

then it was hp, etc that got me into fanfiction writing (weirdly enough never read 1D fics when i loved them, probs bc i was young and not online). i was always writing tho; i learned how to write before i could talk so it was always a way for me to express myself.

my passion for art was always with me too. my dream job as a child was to be an actor, and that lasted up until i was 17. but i was always writing and got into script writing when i was 16, and one day i woke up and decided i wanted to be a writer instead. now i implement all those things when im making short films which is so fun.

god i just get inspired by everything. and it’s cringe to say but i wanted to be like jk rowling when i was 13, then i grew up and realised she was a shit writer along with being a shit human being. when i branched out of YA i began to find way more writers that inspired me, that made me think “i wanna write like this”; those being the likes of james baldwin, shirley jackson, donna tartt. for film david fincher is so fucking inspiring, his style blows me away i love it sm. and as much as i don’t like him now; tarantino’s scripts taught me sm about how to build tension and write engaging dialogue so i must pay my dues there. oh, and lynne ramsey; i resonate with the nihilistic tone of her work and that influenced me sm.

[alyseofwonderland]

Guess who just got to that bit in the book?

[bussypadussy]

Boris “Kiss a Homie Gn" Pavlikovsky: No, Potter, is not gay in America if I keep socks on. Is fine.

[frnko-mars]

that post made me think about the secret history and now i’m crying again

[aureliarts]

ミ☆ welcome ☆彡

note: Aurelias is not a real person. This is an oc blog for a later project. General unreality tw for the entire blog. If u wanna know more, go over to @lychniscitrus and ask.

Hi, I'm Aurelias <3 My blog is dedicated to light academia, cottagecore, books and plays I like, and just talking about my life!

I'm physically disabled, autistic, and a minor. My pronouns are she/he, thank you!

My favourite play is Our Town by Thornton Wilder and my favourite book is The Secret History by Donna Tartt. I like Mitski, Suki Waterhouse, Ricky Montgomery, and The Oh Hellos. I have an absolutely terrible sleep schedule <3

Tagging system:

life updates – updates on my life be it school, family, disability, anything

aurelias's scripture – my tag for original posts

asks <3 – asks!

mutuals <3 – talking with my friends and mutuals!

posts from the creator – Aurelias is an OC and this is her OC blog, it's part of "Liveblogging the potential end of the world." this tag means posts from his creator or posts in which I'm speaking, not Aurelias.

･ﾟ✫* Enjoy your stay ✫*ﾟ･ﾟ

[heterodickpaper]

examining pippa and her relationship with theo through her end of book letter, part 2

you can read part 1 here: https://heterodickpaper.tumblr.com/post/674762422337323008/examining-pippa-her-relationship-with-the

so hopefully everything about pippa and her feelings for theo makes sense, but something was still bothering me about her letter. this is the thing theo has purportedly been longing for his entire life. why is it only discussed for a page, and not brought up again? i had a few ideas about this as well, which were the following:

theo recognizes that she’s right that they could never work out, and having emotionally matured decides not to waste more pining energy than necessary

theo doesn’t have any more pining energy to direct toward her, having allocated it all to boris

he refuses to accept that she’s right and so avoids talking about it to try and un-canon it

so at first 1 seemed the most likely, but while i think it’s partly true, other parts just don’t line up right. for example: emotionally matured who? he’s traveling the world through hotels, completely anchorless. he’s living in liminal spaces! if that’s not a metaphor for not having gotten complete closure/reached the end of his emotional journey i don’t know what is. another thing is that theo does understand pippa’s reasoning--he came to the same conclusion earlier in the book. he has a page long admission that his love for her is messed up and rooted in the loss of his mother, even if it’s branched off (or could branch off) into something else more organic. but theo being theo, i would have expected at least two paragraphs of yearning and/or sulking and/or self-pity-induced substance abuse. but nope. he tells us everything about what happened with her & her letter in a page, and in brackets (weird, cause this is like, A Big Deal!! and what, it’s a side note? after 700 pages of telling us you love her more than anyone in the world? i will get to discussing this too). and that’s the only time in the whole final chapter that she’s mentioned except for a single sentence near the end in the context of some long-winded life philosophy. and although i personally like option 2, it’s not the focus of this essay (rant? i’m not sure this deserves the title “essay”).

so onto option 3: he spends so little time on pippa and the letter because he’s worried that if he thinks about it too much, he’ll have to fully accept the impossibility of their relationship--something that despite his earlier confession, he clearly hasn’t done. that explains the brackets too--he’s trying to minimize the impact of what she said, which he also does by introducing it with “as for pippa:”. like, “as for pippa: in case you were wondering about the girl i’ve been infatuated with for this whole entire book. i mean i don’t really care but i mean if you reaaaaally wanna know i guess i’ll tell you.” he does this a lot throughout the book, since he’s writing it as one--maybe most notably around anything with even remotely gay undertones. he delivers only the barest facts, trivializes them, and then moves right along in hopes that the reader will too (i won’t.)

the part right after this seems to confirm that theo is still in denial. i read it so many times and it aggravated me so much (i should have known by then that means my frst impression was wrong). after telling us all the reasons why a relationship between them couldn’t work, theo basically says “fuck that! why don’t i go to london anyway?” my first thought was that ms tartt was trying for a grand romantic thing, but that wouldn’t make any sense! the book isn’t centered around romance, and the romance in the book is never romance in of itself--it’s always a mechanism that provides insight into theo’s character and motivations. so keeping that and the fact that theo is a highly unreliable narrator in mind, the idea that he might go to london makes more sense. it’s framed as some whirlwind fantasy not because donna tartt wants it to be one, but because theo does, and he’s the one who decides how things are depicted, whether that’s how they really are or not (in this case, not).

theo hammers the fact that he loves pippa into every interaction with her, but he never considers that maybe she doesn’t want to try being with him. she’s in a healthy relationship with someone who can support her, she has a new life--theo just can’t imagine that she’s not stuck in the past the way he is. and though he rationalizes what would be a terrible choice by assuring us he really doesn’t care about being “Dragged Down,” he doesn’t consider that maybe she does. (sidebar: this also supports my prev point about his not really knowing pippa--despite his love for her there’s lots about her that’s clear to us as the reader but not to him). and based on pippa’s (admittedly minimal) characterization, i don’t think she would consider it worth the pain and backwards progress to be with him. this also makes it clear how self-absorbed theo is--not that he doesn’t have reasonable cause to be in a bad mental place, but he’s definitely not in the right state to be in a relationship with someone just as traumatized as him, despite his thought that maybe he can “be the strong one.” remember, he’s living in hotels! he’s gotten closure with the painting, but he’s in a transitory state, approaching a fork in the road. we don’t know if he’ll really start to move on/heal or if he’ll turn back like he’s done in the past. my opinion is that to really move on, he needs to move on from pippa entirely (and he did almost do this, with kitsey, but as i said here the only reason he was able to do that was because he wasn’t emotionally attached to kitsey, so it was easier to “move on” because that relationship didn’t require that he relinquish his desire for pippa.)--because of the origins of his infatuation with her, to hold on to her is to hold onto his mother and the museum. like the goldfinch itself, his feelings for her are a representation of his trauma. i don’t think he could ever really have a normal relationship with pippa unless he turns all the way around and does some serious healing & confrontation of his issues. he doesn’t want us to think that, though, hence the brackets and quick moving on. so here’s my interpretation of what the letter passage means: theo knows that pippa is right, and that a relationship between them couldn’t work. however, he’s not (yet) at a place where he can accept that.

honestly i would love to read a fic where theo does go to london and pippa shuts him down & also tells him she can’t support him and then he moves on for real. with boris. or like a going to london for pippa and everett’s wedding fic. anyway if you made it all the way through thank you!! you are my favorite person. let me know what you think, especially if you disagree, and feel free to dm me any time! as you can probably tell i love talking abt tgf.

[otrtbs]

Here again, contributing to your 200+ asks. Sorry, I've should be commenting on AO3 but I don't know if I want to open an account.

So... I reached chapter 20. I know, I know, I said it should take me a week or so but I'm a binge reader and THIS IS SO GOOD (also, I'm avoiding life, so... *shrugs*).

My highlights:

1. The date. James bloody Potter. He is in the middle of a fucking heist planning and he still have the time, energy and guts to plan that beautiful date. And of course Regulus give in. How could he not?

2. Lucius Malfoy is a piece of shit I every universe. It's my HC and I'll stand by it till the end.

3. I can't ride a bike either, James and I have that in common.

4. Your favorite chapter so far is my favorite chapter so far as well.

5. Now I have to read Donna Tartt because of you. Could you recommend me where to start? Which book?

6. Regulus breaking apart (because of James of because of Sirius) just break my heart in an special, painfully way. You really write him so beautifully.

7. I LOVE the idea of a jilted/Jilters club. And thank god for Marlene fucking Mackinnon for ever.

And this is getting too long, so last thing: I almost couldn't breath reading the Sirius/Regulus confessions. I wanna hug them both so tight (Trgulus first, of course).

Thank you thank you thank you again.

And fuck the haters.

ahh hello! so fair you don't want to open an ao3 account

i would give in so fast if i was regulus to hahaha that was so real of him ,,,, also yeeahhh Lucius isn't it,,, at all,,,

OKAY OKAY OKAY DONNA TARTT LET'S TALK DONNA TARTT

The Secret History is the book that most people seem to read and enjoy. That's where the Donna Tartt quote in Art Heist comes from. If you like dark academia, pretentious boarding school students, and murder this is your book! (I've read it and thoroughly enjoyed it)

BUT

The Goldfinch is my favourite book of all time ever. I have never loved a book more. It's more hit or miss. People either love it or hate it. I love it!! The Goldfinch follows a young boy, Theodore Decker from adolescence to his mid thirties while he navigates life with a stolen painting from the MET. There's art and museums and grey amsterdam and glitzy, sleazy vegas, and antique restoration, and new york city and it is so wonderful.

The Little Friend is good too, I just don't recommend starting with it!

Sirius and Regulus make me cry bc it's so clear that they both love each other so much but there's so much in the way :((((

AHHH THANK YOU <3333

[watermelon-eater]

maybe its time to make a proper introduction

hey hi welcome to my blog! my name is zen (i also go by nautilus or my indonesian name laskar) and i use he/him pronouns and a couple of neopronouns . i like breaking bad, better call saul, homestuck, and donna tartt books to name a few. these are topics that i will frequently reblog/post about. feel free to DM if you wanna talk about these topics with me, but be aware that i rarely check tumblr DMs anymore.

now before you follow i have d/a's with karkat, mituna, jesse pinkman, and certain cats, and i'll have to kindly ask doubles not to interact with my posts/reblogs related to them (or at least not to tag as kin if you do). i also tag weirdly sometimes, but you can ask me to trigger tag anything. i don't use "tw" before trigger tagging things, i only put the name of the trigger (ex. #emeto).

TERFS ARE NOT WELCOME!!! PLEASE STAY THE FUCK AWAY. other than that youre basically free to follow but i do try and check everyone who follows me, so if i see anything suspicious or just something i just really dont like i will block you. dont take it personally.

lastly im tryna have a good experience here on tumblr. so even if theres some important info or something on a post that i come across, if i find it upsetting i'll likely just scroll past. if its that important i can find it outside of tumblr thank you. please dont scold me about this it wont change my opinion on it i really dont care

oh and best to check my carrd (https://laskarrd.carrd.co/) to get full information on my boundaries and interests and shit

current mutual list (off the top of my head): v3ry-c00l, constrruxt, imagiguard, feralnumberfive, fightingtrim, ludicrously-witchy, instantnoodlestall, dampnudeldove, decayed-foundations

guide to my tags below:

nautical textposts: my textposts

long tag: tags ive put in that i might want to see again

ive only seen paintings of this painting: heritage posts (or posts ive only seen screenshots of)

fav: favorite [funny] posts

fave: a lighter version of fav, things i like that doesnt exactly go to fav

hfy: humans fuck yeah - people doing things that make me smile

<3: stuff that makes my heart warm

tumblr: certified tumblr moments

conny tag: tag for my boyfriend

most of the other tags are self explanatory. list is prone to change

[bonesandthebees]

Hey, just wanted to let you know that Once & Future by Amy Rose Capetta and Cori McCarthy has a neopronoun user and other lgbt representation in it. (Ace character and more!) (also poc rep?)

It’s been a while since I’ve read it so I don’t remember everything.

I believe it is a scifi take of the tale of King Arthur.

oh I had a discord server that was talking about that recently! I don't read books a lot, and I have like 4 already on my reading list currently (Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn, Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer, The Secret History by Donna Tartt, and Song of Achilles by Madeleine Miller) (that's not even including the fact that I bought a super pretty but super expensive copy of Dune the other day and I wanna read that at some point too) so I'm not letting myself get anymore books until I get through those lol

but thank you for the rec! everyone go check it out!

[cordonian-literature]

The Aftermath - Ch. 33

The Anointing Ceremony

Summary: Gabriel is anointed as the heir

Word Count: ~4.1k 

A/N: this is it! the next chapter is the last one :)

Warnings: none

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s book, “The Goldfinch”)*

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @twinkle-320 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @pens-girl-87 @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @cordonia-gothqueen @queenwalton @yourmajesty09 @alj4890​ @choicesbutterfly​ 

I don’t know if the tags are working or not, but I hope I got everyone down! If you would like to be added or removed, let me know :) 

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Gabriel -

Ella and I were trying to see how many grapes we could fit into our mouths when Dad stands up from the picnic blanket. I don’t pay attention to him, but when Mom laughs, I turned to look at them to see Dad on one knee holding a ring box out to her. 

Ella’s hands fly to her mouth as she tries to eat quickly while I continue stuffing my face (I was on eight grapes). Mom and Dad laugh, then Dad slides the ring on her finger and they share a kiss.

“I thought you said you planned on proposing in the hedge maze?” Mom asks through a giggle. 

“I had to improvise,” Dad says. “I wanted to make it official so we could let the world know as soon as possible.” 

Ella swallows her grapes and goes to join the hug. I start rapidly chewing and wrap my arms around them, doing my best not to cough. After we finish everything in the picnic basket, Dad carries Ella over his shoulders and we walk back to the estate. 

Inside, Duke Bertrand runs up to us and wishes Mom and Dad congratulations. I wonder how he already knows that they’re engaged.

“Your Majesty, if I may,” Bertrand says, “I am absolutely elated at the news! I saw you as I was passing by the window in my office and well...” He pauses and clears his throat, letting his smile falter. “I would kindly advise that an announcement be sent out immediately seeing that the Anointing Ceremony is tomorrow-” 

Dad cuts in and through a large smile says, “Yes, Duke Bertrand, that would be appropriate.” 

“Wonderful! I’ll make it my top priority!” 

As Duke Bertrand walks off, Duchess Olivia catches Mom and Dad before we can go any further. She says she has something important to tell them, and the adults walk off together.

Ella and I make our way up to our rooms. My sister skips happily. 

“How do you feel about Mom and Dad being engaged?” I ask her, wanting to know what she thought. 

Ella shrugs and continues walking. “I guess it’s okay. Is it gonna be different than how it’s already been?” 

“Well, yeah,” I tell her. “We’ll be living together with Dad, have to go places with him. And with Mom.” 

“But we’ve already been doing that,” she states.

I take a moment to think about her words, and I can’t really prove her wrong. “I guess you’re right.”

The Beaumont estate is quiet since all the guests from the party had left the night before. Hunter and Heather had said goodbye to us this morning, and Uncle Leo had said that we would see them again tomorrow.

When we’re in our rooms, Ella says she wants to practice more dances with Countess Hana. We go around the estate looking for her, but don’t see her anywhere. We bump into Duchess Savannah, who tells us she’s left for the evening but will be at the ceremony tomorrow. The mention of the ceremony causes a wave of dread to flow through my chest.

The Duchess adds that Lord Maxwell and Aunt Rowan have left for dinner and that Bartie’s taking a lesson. Having nothing to do, we turn again towards the direction of our rooms. 

Before we get there, we see Duchess Olivia walking away. Figuring she must have just been where Mom and Dad were, we go in the direction that she came from.

Inside a room, We see Mom crying. Dad holds her to his chest. They haven’t seen us yet, so Ella and I keep quiet. 

Mom mumbles some things to Dad, but neither of us can hear it. There’s a deep frown on Ella’s face, and before I can stop her, she says, “Mama?” and walks up to her. 

Mom sits up, quickly wiping the tears from her face. She doesn’t say anything to Ella, but instead holds out her arms and collects Ella into her lap. 

I walk into the room and take a seat next to Dad. He puts an arm around my shoulder. Silent tears run down Mom’s face. I want to ask her what’s making her so upset.

After a while, she calms down, but the four of us don’t talk. Dad’s arm is around me and Mom, while Mom still holds Ella. 

“Everything okay?” I ask, hoping one of them would answer me.

“Everything’s wonderful, baby,” Mom manages a smile.

“Why were you crying?” Ella asks. 

“I was mad,” she answers. 

“About what?” I question.

“Just...” She takes a shaky breath. “Thinking about your dad. And Uncle Boris.”

Her words were directed at Ella, whose face falls. “Why are you mad at him?”

Mom doesn’t hesitate before quickly saying, “No reason, baby,” as if she’s trying to erase what she just said. She gives Dad a look. “Isn’t it getting late?” 

“But-” I try to stop them.

Dad pats me on the shoulder. I think he’s going to tell us to go to bed, but instead he says, “How about we end the night with a game? Or a movie?”

Ella’s face brights up. 

“We have to get up early for the ceremony,” Mom tries to protest, but Dad’s already picked up Ella over his shoulders. He puts a hand on my back and leads us towards our rooms. 

“Get all the sleep you need, love,” he tells her. “Meanwhile, we’ll be watching... what will we be watching, Ella?”

“Uh... The Lorax!” she cries. 

Could be worse, I think to myself. 

“The Lorax,” Dad finalizes. Mom stands in front of him with her arms crossed, and I can tell she’s doing her best not to smile. He leans forward to kiss her forehead, then we turn and walk away.

...

Mom wakes us up when it’s still dark out. Dad says we can sleep on the drive over, and I’m pretty sure he carried Ella into the car because she wouldn’t wake up. 

The morning is cold but quiet. We don’t talk when we get into the limo. Ella is still sleeping near the back, while I’m a few feet away from her. Mom and Dad are cuddled close, their heads leaning against each other. 

I watched the colors of the sky get lighter, signaling the beginning of a new day. But I wanted it to stay dark. I didn’t want this day to happen. I try to make myself fall asleep so I could calm down. 

But the closer we got to the palace, and the brighter the sun got, the less I was able to sleep. Maybe it was the annoying light. Maybe it was that my seat was uncomfortable. Or maybe, it was that I really, really didn’t want to do this anymore. 

I feel like I need to get up and run. I feel like something bad was about to happen. I want to tell the driver to stop, that we’re moving towards something terrible. My chest feels like it’s in knots. I don’t want to open my mouth or take a breath because I know I’ll start coughing. 

But I can’t suffocate myself. I open my mouth and start coughing and crying at the same time. Mom and Dad unbuckle their belts and rush to my side. 

The dread intensifies. “I don’t wanna do this,” I tell them. “I don’t wanna go!” 

“Why not, baby, what happened?” Mama asked. 

I couldn’t tell her what I thought. Well, maybe I could, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to tell her that I’m deathly afraid that I would do something wrong, and all the mean people at court would have something to say about it for the rest of my life. I don’t want to tell her that I had heard some of the things the noblewomen had said about her and Dad, and I don’t want to hear more of it. I don’t want to tell her that I want to skip the ceremony entirely. 

“Gabriel,” Dad catches my attention. “Breathe.” 

I can’t bring myself to listen to him. My chest feels tighter. I want to get out of the car.

“Breathe,” he says again, and starts breathing in a slow rhythm. I know he wants me to copy him, so as best as I can, through the tears and coughs, I follow him.

We do that for a while. For a moment I stop copying him and cry again; I felt like I was bothering him. But again Dad puts a hand on my shoulder and breathes with me. Eventually, the dread goes away and I feel a bit normal again. 

“Do you need anything?” Dad asks. I don’t open my mouth; I’m scared I’ll start coughing and crying again. “I know you’re worried, you have every right to be, but I promise it will not be as bad as you think it will.” I try nodding my head at him. “I’ll be there every step of the way. If there’s a moment where you want it all to stop, tell me.” I nod again.

Mom grabs me some water. The knots and nerve-wracking thoughts become smaller. Dad doesn’t leave my side. 

And when we reach the palace, I follow him as Mom and Ella go to their rooms. The palace is busier than I’ve ever seen it. Nobles pass by, rapidly whispering, quickly bowing in Dad’s direction, doing their best to get ready. Servants run around, carrying things from one hallway to another, making sure everything is in the proper place.

Dad keeps his hand on my shoulder as we greet people, attend some morning meetings, eat a quick breakfast, and make our way to the dressing rooms to get ready.

Watching him go through the routine of his day was calming. Before starting anything, Dad would ask me if there was something I need, and then asked if I want to leave and take a moment for myself. 

But I didn’t. The feeling of wanting to be near him was odd... but peaceful. Everything that Dad had to worry about flowed around him: passing by for him to solve it with ease, but never lingering long enough to bother him. He was in control of everything and he made people know that. I feel safe around him. He’s picked me up and scooped me away into peace.

We pass through crowds of finely dressed people while we make our way to the boutique. Inside, Countess Hana and Mom are talking excitedly. 

“Rashad and I went to speak to Neville yesterday,” she tells my mother. “We finalized everything! I’ll be staying in the palace for the time being, and I’m having servants pack my things and bring them to me.”

“And how did Neville react?” Mom asks. 

“He was surprised, I could see it on his face. There was some angry mumbling. But with Rashad there he didn’t have anything to say to either of our faces!”

“You’re finally single and ready to mingle!” Lord Maxwell cries out, wrapping Hana in a big hug. 

“She’s already been mingling,” Aunt Rowan says. “Duke Rashad is waiting for you outside.” She jerks her thumb in the direction of the door.

Duchess Olivia and Drake walk in together as the Countess walks out. Drake ruffles my hair and walks towards Dad. 

“Has Olivia told you everything?” Dad questions. 

Mom pulls me away to start getting dressed, but I can still hear Drake respond with, “Yup. We went to question Jessica this morning.”

“And? Did she have anything to confess?”

“Claimed that Boris had only told her what was happening that day I caught her with him.”

“We didn’t believe her,” Duchess Olivia states. “But she cried the entire time she told the story and said it was the truth. I suggest throwing her in the cells with the Russian.”

The outfit Mom hands me has many different layers. Every piece I put on made me feel fancier. After most of the stuff is on, I step out. Mom comes up to me and places something that looked like a cape over my shoulders. There’s gold on it. 

I look over to see Ella, who wears a rose-colored dress, a similar but smaller cape drawn over her shoulders. She runs her finger over the fur as Aunt Rowan fuses over her. Mom wears a cape, too, and the peach color of her dress is the same color as Dad’s sash on his dark blue military suit.

Mom finishes helping me and hands me a pair of shoes to put on. I take a seat on a chair, and she turns towards Dad and their friends.

“Drake, I’m so sorry,” Mom says to him. 

“Sorry about what?” His voice is heavy. 

“Sorry about everything. With Jessica. Boris.” 

They stare at each other for a long minute. Drake sighs and says, “There’s no reason to be sorry about Jessica. Don’t worry about Boris, either. He tricked all of us.” 

“But you were engaged to her. You loved her. Even if she was wrong for you...”

“Brooks, it’s better to be alone than with the wrong person.” 

Before anyone can say anything more, there’s a knock at the dressing room door. I go to open it, since I’m closest, and see that it’s Grandma!

She tightly wraps me in her arms, then grabs Ella into the same hug. When we part, Grandma goes around the room to greet everyone: hugging Mom and Aunt Rowan, while giving Dad, Drake, Maxwell, and Olivia quick nods. 

Once that’s done, everyone looks around at each other. Mom, Dad, Ella, and I stay in the room while the rest of them leave. Grandma turns to me again to ask how I’m feeling.

“Good,” I tell her honestly. “A bit excited. Also nervous.” 

“That’s okay, you’ll be fine” she exclaims, then turns to Dad. “I heard the news. I guess I should wish you two congratulations.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Brooks,” Dad says.

“But if you ever hurt my daughter again,” Grandma starts. 

“Mom, I need to talk to you about Theo,” my mother says. 

Grandma turns quickly. Dad leads us out of the room and we join Drake, Olivia, and Bertrand on the other side. 

“Everyone is in attendance,” Duke Bertrand tells us. “The Auvernese royals left last night and there’s increased security. Everything is in place.” 

Dad nods at him. Drake asks, “What’s going on in there?”

“She’s telling her mother about Theodore.” 

For a second I hope that Dad would go more into detail about it. I want him to explain what’s so important about Ella’s dad and Uncle Boris. My sister looks at me and raises her eyebrows. I shrug, telling her that I don’t know anything. 

The adults talk for a few more moments. The palace looks like it’s cleared out and there are only members of security and staff walking around. The guards made me a bit more anxious; seeing them made me think that there was something for me to worry about. But Ella starts talking to me and I’m distracted.

Finally, Mom and Grandma come out of the room. Grandma’s eyes are red. She pats Dad’s shoulder, holds Mom’s hand, and says a soft, “I’m sorry.”

Small smiles pass on the adult’s faces. I look up at my mother, wanting to know what she and Grandma discussed. Mom leans down to plant a kiss on my head and my sister’s. 

Duke Bertrand mentions that we’re about to be late. “The anointing hall awaits!” he calls, and leads us away. 

We pass by the lobby of the palace. Through the glass, I can see a large crowd of people cheering. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but they cry out excitedly.

We walk through corridors, up multiple flights of stairs, and through countless hallways until we come to a wing of the palace I’ve never seen before.

“We’re not going to the usual throne room?” Mom asks. 

“Tradition dictates that all royal heirs be anointed here,” Dad tells her, “in the original throne room.” 

“It’s a true honor,” Duke Bertrand states, a proud smile on his face. “One that will go down in Cordonian history... nay, the history of the world! Everyone will be watching!” 

Everyone? I think to myself. 

As Bertrand guides Grandma, Ella, and Drake inside, I try to take deep breaths to calm the anxiety that starts again. Dad notices and puts a hand on my shoulder. He matches my breathing until the panic disappears. 

“Ready?” he asks.

I nod.

Mom and Dad stand close behind me. The doors open, and rich music swells around me. People turn to look, and I freeze in place. There are smiles sent in my direction, and curious looks thrown in the direction of Mom and Dad. I see Hunter and Heather and their parents, Drake, Countess Hana, Lord Maxwell, Aunt Rowan, my sister, and my grandmother. 

I take a step forward, not entirely sure if that’s what I’m supposed to do. 

The closer I get to the throne, the more I notice my surroundings. There are nobles holding their house flags, one of them shouts out an introduction, though, through the thundering in my head and the loud music, their voices are drowned out. 

After the person finishes talking, people being to applaud. I look around nervously at everyone, but I’m thankfully met with kind eyes.

Halfway down the aisle, Duke Landon and his family hold swords above my head. I give them my best smile, hoping they wouldn’t drop the swords on me, and continue on. I was almost at the throne. It was almost over.

Near the stairs, I recognize some more members of the Great Houses. Duchess Olivia stands next to a crown. A Lady holds a golden scepter, and another holds a small vial of oil.

“We are gathered here today to witness Gabriel’s anointment as Crown Prince of Cordonia,” Duchess Olivia’s commanding voice says to the crowd. “This ceremony represents Cordonia’s unity, as we pledge our loyalty to our future king.”

A cheer rises from the crowd behind me, which is unexpected. The people are happy. For me.

“Gabriel Rys,” the Duchess turns to me. “Do you accept the title of Crown Prince, and all the responsibilities it carries?” 

Trying to sound responsible, I repeat her question in my answer, showing that I was paying attention: “I accept the title of Crown Prince and all the responsibilities that it carries.” 

“Lady Kiara of House Theron, you may now cross the heir with the royal scepter, that he may be ready to shoulder the station it represents.” 

I turn to Lady Kiara, and she does what Duchess Olivia said. The scepter glitters as it passes in front of me. 

“Countess Madeleine of House Fydelia,” the Duchess starts again, “you may now anoint the heir in apple oil.”

She puts a drop of the oil on my forehead, which falls down between my eyebrows and down the tip of my nose, dropping on my chin. It smells funny. I fight to keep a sneeze in. 

The Countess steps back, and Olivia picks up the crown. She faces me, and I bow my head slightly, allowing her to place it over my head. 

Dad had told me that it might be heavy, but that wasn’t what I was worried about. The crown fit perfectly on my head. When I stood up straight again, it didn’t tilt or move. I felt like I had just been given the final piece of a puzzle. I give a wide grin.

Duchess Olivia’s commanding voice heightens as she cries, “May I present to you the new Crown Prince of Cordonia, Prince Gabriel!” 

I let out a sigh of relief. The crowd cheers again. My parents’ friends and my sister surround me, giving me high fives and pats on the back. A photographer comes in front of us and snaps a picture. 

“Our first professional photo as a family,” Dad says to us. 

“So that’s it?” Ella asks.

“Well, you still have to be anointed as a royal,” Dad tells her, “but that won’t happen until your mother and I are married.”

“Oh, okay!” she cries. 

In the middle of the celebration, we’re led down to the main ballroom. We’re showered with enthusiastic congratulations, both for the ceremony and my parent’s engagement. 

Hours ago, I had been worried about what people would say to me or about me. But the nobles who come up to us say that they’re proud of me and excited for my future in Cordonia. Some of them even have gifts for Ella and I. 

Mom walks around to mingle with people. I walk with Dad and Ella, and we bump into Hunter, Heater, and their parents. 

“Congrats, kiddo,” Uncle Leo ruffles my hair. “You did good out there.”

“Thanks,” I say, as Hunter repeats the wish. 

“The nobles are under your control, huh?” Uncle Leo asks Dad. “I know some of them came to prove their loyalty to the crown after years of speaking against it. Having an heir changes everything.” 

“It truly does,” Dad says. “Not only will Cordonia be more stable, but the Great Houses will no longer dare to question my actions.” 

“They haven’t said anything about your engagement?” 

“Why would they say anything against their King? Or, for that matter, their future queen and the mother of the heir? That sounds borderline treasonous to me.” There’s a smile in Dad’s voice. I smile, too, when I understand what he's saying. He really did have everything under control. 

Uncle Leo chuckles. “I’m proud of you, brother.” 

After the party ends and hundreds of other pictures have been taken, Lord Maxwell and Aunt Rowan lead us into our rooms to get changed. 

Once she's in her pajamas, Ella flops onto the bed, but Aunt Rowan tells her to get up. 

We leave the room and weave through the hallways. It’s much later than we thought it was, and most of the guests are already asleep. We reach a pair of ordinate doors, which look like every other door in the palace, but on the other side of it is a large movie room.

The smell of popcorn and candy wraps around me. Mom and Dad are in the back row, talking to Lady Hana, Duke Rashad, Uncle Leo, and Aunt Katie. Drake, Bartie, and Hunter are picking out a movie, while Duchess Savannah, Grandma, and Duchess Olivia are near the popcorn maker.

“Thought we could all use some family-fun time,” Lord Maxwell says to us.

Though we had just watched a movie last night, this did seem fun, and I’m not about to complain. Ella runs towards the popcorn. Once she has all the snacks she desires, she finds a seat near Heather.

“Looks cool,” I tell Lord Maxwell as we walk towards Drake and Bartie. “What are we watching?” 

“Anything you guys want,” Drake says. 

“Can we not watch Disney?” Hunter asks. 

“Or The Lorax?” I say.

Drake laughs. “Alright, alright. Take your seats, The Lorax begins in a few moments.” 

Bartie, Hunter, and I roll our eyes and grab some snacks. The adults all take a seat near each other. 

When the beginning of the movie starts and someone dims the lights, the serenity around me lulls me towards sleep. I remember the uneasiness from this morning, and I almost laugh at myself for feeling that way at all. 

A couple of months ago, this wouldn’t have been the life I would have chosen. But looking back, I know that wasn’t up to me. The aftermath of the bombing brought my family surprises, but without it, would we all have been this happy?

Did Mom smile this way before? Did she laugh so carelessly? Did she used to have friends who laughed with her this way? 

Dad. I wouldn’t even have known him. Maybe before I was angry that he interrupted our family, maybe I thought that he was doing the wrong thing by trying to bring my mother to Cordonia, but everything ended up right. 

Through the sadness, desperation, and fear — fear that my mother might forget me again, fear that a strange man would take me away from Mom and my sister, fear that I would never be loved the same way again — came goodness and peace and family. The whole thing feels like a landmark: it’s led us all to a happier, more pleasant life.

[twistednuns]

September 2021

Craving fresh oranges all of a sudden. I never used to be very fond of oranges but at the moment I think they're delicious and so refreshing.

Riding my bike through the woods, trying not to get stuck in the mud. The first mushrooms. Yellow goldenrod and magenta-coloured impatiens everywhere.

I've been Christina's fangirl since her Lifejournal days. For some reason everything she likes and does is cool.

Re-reading The Secret History and loving every minute of it. I've done some research on the Dark Academia aesthetic and already ordered a few new books to satisfy my craving for the vibe. Donna Tartt's descriptive language and references are truly fantastic. I would love to be able to write like that myself, preferably using more than one language (as in Umberto Eco's The Prague Cemetery, I suppose?), referencing to the most interesting works of art and describing any place in a way it feels oddly familiar to people.

The dreams are back. However, there's one thing I've noticed: the more happy I am and the more I've got going on in my life the less I seem to be able to remember my dreams.

Pre-ordering books. Forgetting about it. Always a pleasant surprise.

The weird energy-bursts I have when my diet consists mainly of fruit and vegetables (some dark chocolate, too).

The indulgent feeling of cracking open a chocolate marshmallow with your tongue.

Postcards from R. Pistachio souvenirs.

A good Saturday: Spending time with the kitten brothers. I named the grey one Moby. Then we walked to Nymphenburg and played on a seesaw, had delicious pistachio ice-cream and talked about the kind of classes I could teach next year.

R. is forcing/offering me to give workshops at the adult education centre because he thinks it would be good for me (I've got a chronic issue of not being challenged enough, I suppose). He even wants me to write applications to publishing houses because I know that I'm not entirely happy with my job. The other night he forced me to book a flight. Any flight. Because he knew that it would be good for me. He just sat there waiting for me to make up my mind, even when I sat there crying because I didn't know what I wanted and wasn't able to make a decision. Despite the discomfort this all creates I appreciate being held accountable and having someone nudging me to start doing the hard things I often put off indefinitely. Oh and he is able to stand my crazy streak, offers advice, conviced me to finally have surgery. He's a good one. I even wrote a letter to him on the plane to Funchal, trying to express my gratitude.

Brainstorming career ideas for me. I kinda wanna be an activist, explorer, producer or journalist/writer.

Watching movies in bed. With snacks. Reading in the morning with R. asleep, embracing me.

Finding exactly the shoes I wanted second hand. In the right size, cheaper than online and in mint condition, too. They were sold out everywhere!

Afghan food! We had dinner at an Afghan restaurant one evening and the next day Sadia incidentally published this video about the kind of food she ate growing up in an Afghan family. She's one of my favourite YouTubers - incredibly talented, with impeccable taste and always radiating positivity.

Gratitude and appreciation for the good things in my life. I'm a classic Negative Nancy so it's quite noticeable whenever I'm able to outgrow this part of my personality.

How cute R. looks with his hair in a bun, wearing my camel parka.

Truffle pesto.

Main character vibes. Travelling alone. Operating way out of my (current) comfort zone: Surviving the long-ish flight. Twice. (Flying stresses me out - it isn't even flying per se but the whole procedure; getting there, standing in line, waiting, TOO MANY PEOPLE, not knowing who I sit next to, everything is too confined and uncomfortable). Renting a scooter and going straight to the highway without any hesitation or practise. Going scuba diving for the first time since 2019 even though I wasn't planning on doing that. Meeting new people. Doing new things. The funny thing is that I actually love adventures - experiencing new things makes me feel alive - but I've taken a long break from doing anything, really. I've been depressed, feeling bad about myself - it's nice to see that I still have it in me and that my curiosity is still there; I've just got to practise a little and muster up enough courage and motivation to get into action mode again.

I ended up going to Madeira without really thinking about it (I'd just heard that it's a nice place) and it was SO beautiful. Cable cars, flowers everywhere, 180° ocean view. I saw whales and dolphins, got a tan, ate fresh fruit every day. Madeirans are crazy about passion fruit and I tried my best to taste all the different maracujà products (the queijo with passion fruit seeds was my favourite, I think). I met Higino who works as a spotter for whale watching boats; we had a lovely evening observing the sea and the sky, talking about nature, culture, animals and so much more. I saw gorgeous places on a jeep tour to the west of the island with a group of Dutchies. There was a spooky forest in the mountains, breathtaking views and I especially liked the natural volcanic swimming pools. I developed a sixth sense for lovely vegetarian restaurants (and even got my own tiny balcony at Olive's). There were cats. And banana trees. Crabs. I drank Poncha and spent too much money at Parfois. I had a really good time.

Oh and I found a used copy of The Girl on the Train in the kitchenette and spent the whole week reading it, ignoring the book I had brought along. I finished it on the plane on my way back. Very entertaining!

Checking out Raphael's new office. Stealing pencils. Drawing on his notepad. Checking out all the secret drawers.

Reuniting with my students after the holidays! It's surprisingly nice to see them all again. I also got to know a few new pupils (and I'm working on making the Spanish girl help me with my homework).

A video call with Clarence the cat.

My Tumblr revival. I'm thinking about going back to blogging again. When I was thinking of posting a photo on Insta (after a long hiatus) something held me back. Perhaps Instagram just isn't the right platform for me?

Getting along really well with Doris. She often drops me off at the subway station after work and so we spend a few minutes in the car together and I'm always sad when I have to get out because there's still so much left do discuss. Even though Doris doesn't wanna be friends with colleagues I secretely think we are besties.

Japanese food heaven with Margit. Calpis, black sesame ice-cream, Tonkotsu ramen and Tempura on rice. Even though I had to wait in line for one hour to get a table.

Making pumpkin/spinach lasagna with Manu. Talking the whole evening.

I also called Frank after not talking to each other for two months and we spoke for almost two hours. I appreciate having people in my life who just work for me. It's amazing when a friendship is effortless, you don't have to pretend or omit anything. And you can just pick up the conversation where you left off - even two months later.

Julie Delpy's series On the Verge / the new season of Sex Education - especially the scene in the second episode when the students performed Peaches' Fuck the Pain Away.

Forehead kisses / a cute photo for reference. I've been trying to get R. to make it a habit.

Adopting stray books at the tram stop (this time about a illiterate girl growing up in a book shop - and there was a cat on the cover as well; no-brainer).

A huge dragonfly on my balcony.

Getting things done. Stuff I had put off for weeks. Organising. Crossing off things from my to-do-list. I even did my effin taxes.

Watching chestnuts drop down from the trees like little grenades. Going out to collect some. Fall, quite literally, has arrived.

Sundays with Lena. Cake, vampires on TV, a walk around the lake, catching up, veggies for dinner.

Miezi Cuts - finally a name for a hair salon I don't hate.

Cleaning out my cellar (again). Finally getting rid of the old mattress and loads of miscellaneous items.

Our trip to LA: Mexican dinner at Cantina, ice-cream, talking all the time and getting along really well / when Raphael met my mum and got astro-analysed immediately / flea market in the sunshine; I found a lovely knife, an artsy mug and a book about mushrooms / the little crucifix I got for free (the perfect prop for jokes) / I got attacked by a nandu / goat-watching / walking down to the castle / lunch at Gstaudach, harrassing a kitty or two / more treasures at Hab&Gut / a walk in the forest with my mum - sadly we didn't find any mushrooms but she had some at home from earlier this year so we could eat creamy mushrooms and dumplings for dinner / playing badminton, boule and Quirkle together / the big grocery haul right before closing time

Sleeping in on Sunday. Vivid dreams. Spending two hours in the kitchen making banana bread, crisp bread, banana curry rice and a potato stew with leeks and mushrooms. Sunshine. Getting more stuff done. Good mood.

When I sat next to Raphael while he played the piano in my brother's room. He started playing Bach's well-tempered clavier - the first time I heard him play a proper piece. I also loved the self-composed one from the vampire play at his theatre.

The people who keep planting these pretty flowers along the footpath on my way to work.

Fun at the trampoline park with my class.

The last season of POSE: Angel and Papi's wedding got me all emotional. And My Love is Your Love was the perfect song choice for the series finale.

[alyseofwonderland]

Let’s play a game called how many hallmarks of a serial killer does Theo Decker check?

Obsessive and or close relationship with Mother  🚩

Abusive father 🚩

Head trauma in childhood 🚩

Isolation from social norms in childhood 🚩

Started with smaller crimes like break ins 🚩 

Crime spree slowly escalating  🚩

Has a deep and only most fantasy based internal monologue  🚩

Has a ‘public face’ that is fake and very well composed 🚩

When he hurts other people its not that he feels so much guilty about hurting them but more that doing so makes his life hard (haven’t gotten there in the book but from what i understand i am saying this one is probably real) 🚩

I’m not saying Theo Decker is for sure a serial killer, I’m just saying he’s an unreliable narrator and Donna Tartt is a coward.