#eve poetry group

[khaire-traveler]

The Nine Muses

This is a very simple post about the Muses in hopes of explaining who they are, what their domains are, and some things they may be able to help with. This post isn't a deep dive by any means - just a simple introduction. Enjoy!

Who are the Muses?

The Muses, or Mousai, are goddesses of inspiration for various creative, scientific, and poetic endeavors. They were believed to also have knowledge of all things that have come to pass, remembering events with clarity that mortals could not hope to have. Their names are Kalliope, Kleio, Ourania, Thaleia, Melpomene, Polymnia, Erato, Euterpe, and Terpsikhore.

In total, there are nine Muses. The god Apollon was often believed to be the leader of the Muses, having a very close connection with them. The goddess Artemis was also paired with them.

Their origin and family varied depending on the source, but the most common notion was that Zeus and Mnemosyne are their parents and that they were born at the foot of Mount Olympus. Some other possible parents are Ouranos and Gaia, Zeus and Plousia, Pieros and Antiope, or even Apollon.

Poets of the past used to invoke the names of the Muses in hopes of gaining inspiration and the ability to gracefully convey their words. When a connection was drawn between them and Apollo, they were also known for their prophetic abilities as well, even being said to teach the art of prophecy.

What are each of their domains?

Kalliope - The eldest of the Muses, she is the goddess of eloquence and epic poetry. She is often considered the mother of Orpheus. She was depicted with a tablet, a scroll, or (later on) a lyre. Her name has been translated to mean "beautiful-voiced".

Kleio - Wise and intelligent, she is named the goddess of history. In art, she was often depicted with an open scroll or chest full of books. Her name was translated as "to make famous".

Ourania - Associated with the stars, she is the goddess of astronomy and astronomical writings. She has been depicted pointing at a celestial globe with a rod, but I wasn't able to find more information on her symbols. Her name means "heavenly one".

Thaleia - A goddess that helps bring joy to the world, she is the goddess of comedy and bucolic poetry. She was also considered to be the mother of the Korybantes (a group of seven demigods). She was often depicted with a comedy mask, a shepherd's staff, or a wreath of ivy. Her name has been translated as "festivity" or "blooming".

Melpomene - Holding a domain more somber than the Muse above, she is the goddess of tragedy. She was named the mother of the Sirens by Apollodorus. She was depicted with a tragedy mask, a sword, a wreath of ivy, or cothurnus boots. Her name likely means "to celebrate with song (and dance)".

Polymnia - With a name meaning "many hymns" or "many praises", it's no surprise that she's the goddess of religious hymns. She was often portrayed in a meditative pose.

Erato - A Muse that needs no introduction, she is the goddess of erotic poetry and mime. She was often portrayed with a lyre. Her name means "lovely" or "beloved".

Euterpe - Likely full of rhymes and reasons, she is the goddess of lyric poetry. She was often depicted with a double flute. Her name likely means "well pleasing" or "giver of much delight".

Terpsikhore - Filled with music, she is the goddess of choral song and dancing. She was often depicted with a lyre and plectrum. Her name has been translated to "delighting in dance".

Kalliope - Speaking presentations, writing essays, script reading, reading/writing informational posts/articles/etc., interpreting poetry, poetry writing/reading, sharing your own poetry, communicating clearly with others, important conversations, coping with conflicts, addressing conflicts, making peace with others.

What are some things they can help with specifically?

***These are merely suggestions.***

Kleio - History exams/tests, studying classics/history, delving into your own history, discovering family history, recalling past events, writing myth retellings or similar, identifying patterns of behavior, releasing the past, learning from the past, finding hope for the future.

Ourania - Studying the stars/space, story-telling, understanding the universe around us, memorizing constellations, finding peace in the night, finding hope in the darkness, creating goals for yourself, "reaching for the stars", holding onto your wishes, finding a sense of direction.

Thaleia - Creating your own joy, finding what makes you happy, performing stand-up comedy, writing any form of comedy, play-writing, healthy positivity, learning to laugh things off, releasing stress/burdens, moving forward, expressing your joy.

Melpomene - Coping with hardships, moving through difficult times, releasing the past, forgiving oneself, coping with past mistakes/regret, healing from difficult events, coping with the "downs" of life, play-writing, telling tragic tales, addressing difficult topics sensitively.

Polymnia - Writing devotional poetry/hymns/songs/etc., growing closer with religion/devotion, inspiration for offerings/devotional acts, coping with religious difficulties, finding comfort/joy in religion, connecting with the divine, religious/spiritual writings, connecting with your practice.

Erato - Love letters, confessing your feelings through writings/songs/etc., connecting with sexuality, writing/reading erotic stories, communicating sexual needs, establishing/discovering sexual boundaries, sex positivity (especially through literature), embracing your sexual interests.

Euterpe - Writing poetry, interpreting poetry, communicating one's emotions, romanticizing life, sharing poetry with others, devotional poetry, expressing one's feelings through writing, processing emotions, finding the "right word" for a piece you're writing.

Terpsikhore - Song-writing, learning to dance, expressing yourself through dance/song, connecting with music, processing feelings with musical aid, instrument playing, choral/instrumental performances, writing a musical, musical theater, finding your voice, embracing who you are, expressing yourself.

[no6zine]

Encore No. 6 fanwork guidelines

Are you interested in being a part of the Encore No. 6 zine? All creators are welcome to participate! Although we will not be opening sign ups until after mod applications are closed on the 15th of August, we decided to make the guidelines for works in our zine available ahead of time. This gives creators the option to start planning now if they would like to maximise the time they have available to create.

**Artists, please note that we will be opening applications for a cover artist once sign ups open.

ZINE THEME

This zine was inspired by the upcoming No. 6 musical. Make sure your idea fits in with the theme of our zine. Your work can be:

Inspired by the real life No. 6 musical

Your own interpretation of canon as a musical

Inspired by the theatre within the world of No. 6, and Eve's performances

If you're not sure if your idea fits the theme, please reach out to a mod for assistance once you have signed up.

GENERAL GUIDELINES

All works must be Safe For Work (PG-13 rating or lower). Use of Artificial Intelligence (AI) is not permitted in this zine, regardless of what kind of work you are creating. All kinds of digital works are allowed, including fanfiction, poetry, song lyrics, fanart, comics, cosplay photography, craft photography, and more. Collaborations between creators are allowed, ex. group cosplays, illustrating someone else's fic, etc.

If you are new to zines or to projects with deadlines, please plan to make only one page (art) or up to 5,000 words (writing). We would prefer you make one high quality work than multiple mediocre ones. If you have experience with deadlines and want to create more than that in the time allotted, the maximum available number of pages/words is listed below along with general specs per work type:

Art Canvas size (one page): 8.5 inches wide x 11 inches tall Canvas size (two page spread): 17 inches wide x 11 inches tall Pixel count: 300 pixels per inch Maximum number of pages for comics: 5 Digital merch specs will be discussed after sign ups.

Writing Maximum number of words per person: 10,000 Poetry and song lyrics are welcome. Outside betas are welcome to participate. All works must be proofread by you and/or someone else. British English and American English spellings are both allowed, but please be consistent, ie pick one and stick to it.

Cosplay & Crafts Maximum number of photos per person: 4 OR, submit a pool of photos and our layout designer(s) will chose which ones make the most appealing single or double page spread. If you are making a unique or rare kind of digital art that is not covered by "crafts", please speak with a mod to discuss how your work will be displayed in the zine and how many pages you have available to you, once you have signed up.

Thank you for your interest! We're excited to see what everyone will make!

[mins-fins]

new years day !

"what do you know about love?" "it can bruise, like a punch.."

synopsis: it's only during the new year that huang renjun learns what love is, and loves comes in the form of a charming, margarita indulging, poetry obsessed man, you. after the clock strikes midnight, you take the once love skeptical man on a journey of discovering feelings, full of polaroids, bottle cleaning, and smudged lipstick. the only real question is, what do you do end up as when new years day is over? is this all going to come to nothing in the end?

pairing: huang renjun x male!reader

genre: modern au, not a uni au they've already graduated from uni 😭, strangers to lovers, they have a fling kinda, new years day..literally, this fic takes place during new years eve and new years day, fluff, light light angst, FAST ASS BURN!!

warnings: swearing, explicit language, sexual jokes, mentions of hookups, implications of sex but no smut, mentions of drinking, mentions of toxic workplace environments, things going from 1 to 100 so soon

word count: 12.6k

notes: one of the strangest pieces of writing i have ever completed.. let me get one thing straight, i 💗 renjun, i miss him and i hope hes doing well and taking care of himself :( this fic took the shortest time to write compared to like orbit of yours or all flights are delayed, literally completed this in less than a week.. thats a new isa record i think 😣 anyway!! i decided to do smth different with this fic, instead of just writing a bunch of scenes the singular scenes alone are all about a good few thousand words long, so it might seem short in terms of scenes cause there are really only eight, but each scene is super long so you'll be praying for it to end!!! is this probably super unrealistic? yes, but it's huang renjun so idc, enjoy :)

AT 11:34 PM, RENJUN FOUND HIMSELF IN a spot he didn't want to be. after the many failures he's had on all the previous years on new years eves, he was ready to stay home, with a heavy sweater on, pop a bag of popcorn, and sit down on his couch to rewatch the last season of bridgerton once again. he did not want to go out at all, he was not planning to go out at all. no drinking, no bar dates, no stupid flings that end up with the guy not calling you in the end, just him, alone, at his place, eating a shitload of popcorn and crying as much as possible even if there was nothing to cry about it.

going out and sitting at a bar was not on the list of things he wanted to do this new years eve. it reminds him too much of past flings which didn't really end well.. god all of those guys who acted like they were sooooo into him just to drop him the moment he wanted anything other than sex.

he wants to snap all of their necks right now.

renjun was not preparing to go out today, yeah it's new years eve and shit but he doesn't care, he doesn't want to drink.

but lee donghyuck, fucking lee donghyuck just had to stick his head in and beg for renjun to go out with the rest of them. his coworkers don't really annoy him, he just wishes they would stop nagging him. all huang renjun wanted to do on his new years eve was sit down and spend his day at home, watching stupid shows about love, love he knows he'll never get to experience because all the men he attracts are assholes who'd rather die before committing to anything.

and yeah, maybe renjun is being harsh, but the world has been so harsh on him already, he deserves to be harsh, the world deserves it!

so when donghyuck showed up to his place with the offering of him to go out with the rest of the group, he was quick to decline because he knew it was going to end up the same way it always did. he'd wake up having had yet another drunken one night stand and the guy would become nothing but a memory until the next new year when he did it all over again.

"but why not!? drinking can help you forget about that asshole jin—"

"don't mention his name" renjun scolded earlier that day, a steady glare in his eyes pointed at the younger. he heard the sigh of defeat escape donghyuck's lips, but he doesn't care, he turns back around to finish washing the dishes he'd left in the sink before. "and no, drinking isn't going to solve that problem, it'll make it worse".

"but you can't be alone on new year's eve!"

renjun turned back to the yelling lee, a deadpanned expression on his face. "yes i can, i literally will".

"ugh! you're so boring! jeno help me plead my case here!"

renjun just rolled his eyes, trying his best to ignore the insult from his 'friend'. it wasn't often that they decided to crowd up in his place, but because of the new year coming up, and his lack of interest in doing their little new years tradition, they all banded together to try and convince him to go out and drink.

"maybe going out will help you forget about your mess of an ex boyfriend".

"it never helps".

"maybe you should stop trying to get into some guys pants every time, then" jaemin judged out loud, and the older snapped his head towards him to glare once again, offended by that idea. "what? don't look at me like that, it's true!"

"it is not! you're acting like i'm some sort of sex obsessed freak!"

"well only on new years—"

"i have a knife here, do you want me to kill your right now?" he threatened, pointing the knife littered with soap at donghyuck, who shrieked and quickly hid behind jeno. he scoffed, dropping the sharp blade into the sink and drying off his hands. "i'm not going out drinking with you guys".

"so what? you're just going to sit around and do nothing?"

"that is the plan" the huang clicked his tongue, and a groan sounded from the rest of his same aged friends, which just resulted in him snickering at their misery. "whine all you want, i don't care".

"come on, renjunie!" jaemin quickly stood up and wrapped his arms around the older, a pout on his face as he stared at him, practically pleading through his eyes. "please! we won't do anything stupid we swear!" he cupped the older's face, squishing his cheeks between his hands.

renjun simply allowed for the action to happen, because jaemin would've continued to whine like a baby if he tried to push him anyway. "it's just today! you don't even have to drink, you can just sit around with us! pleaaseeeeeee?"

"okay okay get off" renjun pushed the younger away from him, lightly caressing his jaw as he tried to recover from his vice grip. "fine, i'll go out if it stops you all from being so annoying".

the gasp from donghyuck and his subsequent yell in victory made renjun roll his eyes again as he quickly dismissed his friends with a waving hand. "stop yelling or i'll change my mind".

jeno quickly nudged donghyuck, who stopped his yelling and just gave a blinding smile. "we'll see you later then, renjunie! chenle will text you the address!"

renjun was not looking forward to this outing they had planned.

so here he is, december 31st, 11:34 pm, sat at a bar as his friends all get up to their own things. when he first did arrive, he thought he'd only be there for a good hour and a half before leaving, but no, it's almost twenty minutes away from midnight and he's still here, sat at the bar, without a drink anywhere near him.

at this point, he's about to order a drink just to make himself less bored.

"excuse me?" he calls out, catching the attention of the bartender in front of him. he gives a small smile, lightly straightening up his seat and sighing. "hi, can i have a kir royale?"

the bartender raises an eyebrow, blinking at the stranger in front of him. "just that?"

"just that" he confirms, smiling when he earns a nod from the stranger before him. "thank you".

"kir royale? you have questionable taste.."

renjun startles when he hears the sound of an unfamiliar voice, while he would've been annoyed if it was one of his friends who decided to keep him company after abandoning him to go on and do stuff with other people, he probably would've preferred them instead of.. well, you.

and that's not in an insulting way, you just make everything so complicated for renjun.

"questionable?" renjun raises an eyebrow, just a little irritated by the words from this stranger who had seemingly come out of nowhere. you blink, snickering lightly as you settle down beside him, you already have a drink of your own, but renjun can't currently focus on that. "what is that supposed to mean?"

"just didn't think it would be someone's first choice.." you mutter, fingers toying with the glass of your cup. "but i can't judge anyone for they're drink choices, i can't really judge anyone for anything" you giggle to yourself, and renjun catches your smile, a smile he decides is pretty.

renjun allows for a small laugh to escape his own lips, probably the first time he ever laughed that night, it wouldn't be the last time, though. "i just want something to drink, at this point, it doesn't matter if it tastes good or bad anymore, my year has been insanely shitty".

"oh? trying to erase the mistakes of the previous twelve months with drinking?"

"you could say that" renjun replies, smiling softly at you then turning back to the bartender in front of him, he let out another small 'thank you' and slid the drink over to him smoothly. "i just don't want to drink too much" he says, beginning to dig through his wallet to pay for this little drink.

"scared of the hangover?"

"not the hangover, just scared of saying something i'll regret" he chuckles again, finally finding his card and paying for his drink. he again smiles at the bartender and places his card back in his wallet, merely glancing at you.

"hm" you respond, taking another sip of your drink. "that's understandable".

"yeah.." he mumbles, immediately looking away from you as he feels his face redden stupidly quickly. what is he even blushing for? he just met you, there is no reason you should be flustering him, you didn't even do anything. "what's your name?" he's quick to ask, and you hum again as a response, picking at your nails.

"y/n".

renjun finally looks at you as you say your name, you aren't looking at him, checking the time on your phone. he looks you up down, examining everything about you, your clothes are nice, the jewelry your wearing is nice, your hair is nice, everything about you is nice.

your lips are especially nice, he would describe them as beautiful even.

but renjun should not be staring at your lips, or even be thinking about them, he didn't agree to go out just to hook up with another guy, he is not going to do that, it'd be idiotic for him to. yeah you're pretty, very pretty, but renjun isn't going to allow for this conversation to escalate into something.. else, he's not going to surrender his pride because of a pretty guy he met at a bar.

"and you?"

renjun's face only burns more when he realizes he's been silent all this time, just marking each of your features in his head, he probably looked so stupid, just staring at you speechless. "oh! me? me! yeah uh— renjun".

"renjun" you snap your fingers as you say his name. "ren-jun, pretty, i like it".

"pretty?"

"yeah, a pretty name for a pretty guy".

renjun immediately wants to rebut with a snappy response, but he gets much more flustered than he wants to admit, because he instead begins trying to sputter out a response with his face now reddening excessively. "i— flirting with me on new year's eve, really?"

"not flirting, just telling you what i observed".

"so you think i'm pretty?"

"i'd be lying if i said i didn't" you reply smoothly, a grin tugging at your lips as you take another sip of your almost finished drink. "is it such a surprise that i think so?"

"well.. no, but it's just, i don't know, i don't want to do something i'll regret".

you raise an eyebrow, clearly puzzled by the seemingly cryptic words. "what does that mean?"

renjun lets out a small sigh, he can't believe he's going to say this, especially to you, a pretty stranger he met at a bar on new year's eve. "i can't start a new thing with another guy on new year's eve because it never ends up well, i should've learned my lesson by now".

you blink, staring at renjun for much longer than he thinks he could ever handle. you're silent for a while, processing his words and tilting your head to the side to get a better look at him. "ah, so all of your new year's eve hookups end terribly?"

"not just my new year's eve hookups, all of my attempts at love have ended terribly, can't believe love is advertised as something so desirable but every single time i try, i fail!"

"that has to do more with the people you entangle yourself with, not love itself".

"love is stupid" renjun's teeth drag against each other as he says those words, harsh words, yes, but he deserves to be harsh, the world deserves his wrath because the only thing that's ever been given to him is heartbreak after heartbreak after heartbreak! you let out a small chuckle at the sight of his gritted teeth, the words amuse you.

"is it? or have you just had horrible experiences with it?"

"okay mr love expert" renjun is quick to rebut, and the statement is enough to get yet another laugh out of you. "what do you know about love?"

you pause for a moment as you think about the words he suddenly spits, the question makes you smile, that pretty smile that renjun loves so much, he wants to punch you in the face for being so pretty.

"it can bruise, like a punch.." your quick to answer, fiddling with your shirt collar. "but it's not all bad, love can be beautiful, entrancing, when you do find someone who really loves you, it can be a magical experience, a whirlwind of joy you never knew you could feel for another human being".

"are you into all that poetic bullshit?"

"i guess you could say that".

renjun giggles, a small shake of his head accompanying the sound which escapes his lips. he won't lie, you're very funny, hilarious even. at least he has you as company on this terrible new year's eve, even with your stupid talks of love, he enjoys having you around. "are you going to try to redeem love for me?"

the words are much more flirtatious than he intends for them to be, but it seems you don't notice, because you just smile at his words. "i can't change something you don't want me to, i can only inform you on how i feel about the topic".

renjun opens his mouth to say something in return, but he doesn't really know how to respond to that. god, how have you managed to leave him so speechless even though this is your first encounter? he's about to collapse onto the floor with how surprised he is.

but somehow, renjun stands his ground, literally. "your pretty well spoken for someone so.. you".

"someone so me?"

"yeah" renjun clears his throat. "you remind me of a friend of mine, you probably have so many people falling at your feet without you even having to do anything".

"you make me sound much more interesting than i actually am" you finally finish your drink, your cheeks are dusted red, and you fiddle with the glass in your hands, tracing each of the cuts carved into it. renjun has no idea why he focuses on your hands, but he does, he intently watches as your fingers move skillfully, and his ears begin burning at just the fact that he's staring at your fingers.

oh you've hit a whole new low, huang renjun.

"so you're not some cool playboy who has seven boyfriends?"

"do i strike you as a whore?"

that made renjun laugh even harder, and he had to cover his mouth with his hand. "you're so.. abrupt".

"i like to think that's one of my best traits" you respond, clasping your hands together before focusing your full attention on renjun, attention which immediately makes all of renjun's senses heighten. "so, any interesting new year's resolutions?"

renjun groans at the question, playfully rolling his eyes. "i have to stop making mistakes when it comes to the men i choose to love".

you hum, finger beginning to circle around a small spot atop the counter. renjun has to use pretty much all of his inner power to prevent his eyes from falling down towards your fingers and staring at them. he really has no idea why he's resisting these very needy urges, he doesn't want to seem easy to you, he doesn't want to seem easy to anyone.

but there's something about you, something that makes him want to stay instead of leave, this is something different, not like the other encounters he's had with cute guys at bars on new year's eve. "and what about you? what is your resolution?"

"probably to quit my shitty job".

renjun snorts, finding the statement amusing. "that's a good one, much better than mine".

"i would disagree, yours seems full of much more ambition".

"well i do pride myself on my ambitious spirit" renjun hums, unabashedly checking you out right in front of you, maybe it's the one drink getting to his head, but he's no longer ashamed anymore, he's doing it in broad daylight. "i think you're pretty too".

renjun has no idea where those words came from, but they definitely have an impact, because a small red hue settles on your cheeks, and renjun smiles in victory, he flustered you, he's so proud of himself for that. "oh really? you think i'm pretty, renjun?"

you lean closer to him as you say those words, allowing for your breath to fan against his face, and getting a close up few of his striking features. your eyes cast down towards his lips, but you quickly look back up to make eye contact, not wanting to distract yourself.

renjun, on the other hand, finds himself frozen in place. you're close, you're so close, and renjun can see each of the pores on your face. he can't move, so he doesn't move, he allows for his eyes to drag around your face and mark each of your very features.

"yeah" he responds, voice frail and barely above a whisper. "arguably the prettiest guy i've ever met at a bar on new year's eve" his response gets a small smile out of you, and you click your tongue as you merely glance away.

"rich of you to say, you're probably the prettiest guy i've ever met point blank".

"don't try to one up me".

you raise an eyebrow, that annoying smile still on your lips. "i just did".

renjun just bites his bottom lip, he can't help but stare directly at yours.

he is unashamed.

AT 11:57 PM, RENJUN FOUND HIMSELF IN an unfamiliar spot, but a familiar situation. his hands tangled in your hair, your fingers caressing his waist under his shirt, nothing against your back but the steel of your sink and the feeling of his lips on yours, renjun found himself amused by his current circumstances. what did he say again earlier? right, he wasn't going out to end up in the same place he always did on new year's eve, but here is, history truly has a way of repeating itself. renjun doesn't care if he comes off as desperate, it felt horrible trying to contain himself out there, he can't believe he actually did end up surrendering his pride to you, the pretty guy he met at a bar.

well, that's not exactly it.

having the sudden need for air, you pull away, chuckling at the way renjun doesn't really move away from you, his fingers in your hair settle for a moment, and they begin gently running through it, as if he's trying to coax you into a slumber or something. "is this how you spend your new year's eve? making out with a guy in a bar bathroom?"

renjun scoffs, registering your red face, he wants to laugh, but his is probably not better off, so he stops himself. "did you want to make out outside?"

"i think you wanted to make out outside, did you think you were slick?"

renjun frowns, it's not a serious frown, it's a playful one, and shoves your shoulder lightly. "i should've never kissed you.."

"aww" you pout, over exaggerating your expression to amuse the man in front of you. it seems to work, because renjun snorts at the way you're looking at him. he simply tightens his hold in your hair and pulls you closer to press your lips against his once more, making you squeak lightly in surprise.

"you're so annoying.." he whispers against your lips, he wants to act on his hearts desire, but instead refrains from kissing you once again, though your lips do look tempting, he already did it enough in the span of a few minutes. "you're lucky your cute".

"thank you" you hum happily, a pretty grin tugging on your lips as you stare at him. "you're cuter, though".

that results in a tch from renjun. "corny".

"cornier".

renjun snickers, preparing a new rebuttal as he continues running his fingers through your hair. you decide you like the feeling, so you don't tell him to let go of your hair, just allow for his fingers to relax and cart through your it. "can't believe i ended up here with you.." he mutters under his breath, and you simply smile as you pretend you didn't hear that.

unconsciously, your fingers again disappear under his shirt to caress his waist. renjun settles into the touch, your full hand isn't exactly wrapped around his waist, but you still manage to cover most of it, even if what your doing is just feeling his skin with the touch of your cold fingers. "where else would you want to be, right now?"

"at home, in my bed, under a mountain of blankets".

you tilt your head, staring at him. you find it funny how casual everything between the two of you seems after having a nonstop make out session where he quite literally pressed you against the sink, his duality is simply admirable. "i can't say that doesn't seem completely alluring right now".

renjun lets a smile come to his face, but a whole new realization suddenly dawns on him. it is new year's eve, the countdown should be starting soon. "what time is it?" he asks you, words rushed and simply spat out in a moment of clear confusion.

you glance down at your watch, narrowing your eyes at the numbers presented on the miniature clock. "a minute till midnight, not sure about how many seconds are left though".

renjun opens his mouth to ask another question, but is quickly cut off by the sound of someone outside shouting about the ten second countdown to new year's day. he looks at you again, and a smile comes to your face. "guess we won't be counting down with the crowd".

you now fully wrap your arms around his waist, easily pulling him closer to you as you hear the crowd of people outside begin counting down. ten, nine, eight; "don't you find this fun, though? spending new year's with a pretty bar boy?"

then seven, then six, renjun can't really focus properly on anything. "eh, it could be better".

he drops his hand from your hair and starts down with his index finger, stopping at your shirt collar that he quickly begins to fiddle with. five; the numbers are practically burning into his head at this point.

you seem to notice him thinking, and you nudge him, squeezing his waist gently. "hey" you call out, a small whisper, you remove one of your hands from his waist to lift his chin with your index finger, making eye contact with you. "don't think so much, just be in the moment".

four, three, two.

renjun allows for a sigh to escape his lips, trying his best to push all of his anxieties away as he looks up at you. he, again, tilts his head and leans closer to you. just at the last shout of one, he barely whispers it, seemingly just a lingering breath on your lips. "happy new year".

and again, renjun initiates the kiss between you two. if anyone saw him right now, they'd think he was dying with how urgent he seemed. it was like he'd die if you didn't put your lips on his, kissing you like a man on death row. he kept himself pressed against you, as if the idea of not feeling every single part of you was unfathomable.

you weren't much better off, though not the one initiating the kiss, you slowly take over the control, transforming it into less of a heated moment and more of a soft one, nothing but a few press of the lips, less rushed and more thought out. your fingers continue to caress his waist, ignoring the growing butterflies in your stomach.

surely this can't be anything serious, this is just a random guy your making out with in a bar bathroom on new year's eve. why would it ever be serious?

you refrain yourself from thinking too much about it.

when renjun finally pulls away, catching his breath in the process, his eyes immediately look down onto the floor, avoiding eye contact with you like you would turn him into stone if he even looked you in the eye. "sorry, i.. i don't know why i did all that".

you chuckle lightly, just smiling at him. "it's fine, i mean— you do know how to handle things your passionate about".

renjun laughs at the joke, still not looking at you. you want to take his jaw in your hands and move him to look at you, to make eye contact with you, but you stop yourself from doing that, the last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable because you want him to look at you. "happy new year, renjun".

the soft spoken statement makes renjun finally turn to look at you. he has no idea why, but his face heats up upon seeing the small smile painted on your features, your smile is very pretty, he can't stress that enough today.

he doesn't stop himself from moving up his hand and touching your cheek, beginning to caress your soft skin with his thumb. this is strangely intimate, much more intimate than he usually gets with guys he meets at bars on new year's eve, what's with you that's so different? what is it about you that has his stomach flipping in strange ways?

"happy new year, y/n" he finally answers, sharing the same soft smile with you that you shared with him. it's a strange moment, the air isn't thick, it's not suffocating you two, everything feels..just right.

his lipstick has probably gone to shit by now, all smudged and messed up, he can see the marks on your neck, marks that make his stomach squirm in ways he can't explain. he doesn't really know if he wants all of this to end right now, and as his eyes zero in on your lips again, he blurts one of the first things he can think of.

"i don't— i mean.. come home with me?"

the question makes you blink, and even renjun seems confused by the words. why did i ask that? why the fuck did i ask that? he's literally about to die from the second hand embarrassment he feels.

"are you sure you want that?"

"we don't have to do anything!" he immediately shouts defensively, face so red he might collapse from the excessive heat of his cheeks. "we could just talk and stuff, i don't know, i just want your company i guess.."

renjun doesn't look at you as he mutters those words, again way too embarrassed to look you in the eye. how did you even manage to get him like this? he doesn't think he's ever been this flustered by a guy he just met ever.

it's so embarrassing.

"well i can't disagree with such an offer, can i?"

renjun attempts his best unbothered scoff, but he is already so bothered by you, if his red face is anything to go by. "shut up before i change my mind".

and all you do is chuckle.

AT 12:10 AM, RENJUN FOUND HIMSELF ON a walk down the sidewalk with his hands laced together with yours. the streets are much more crowded on this day, and at this time, that's a rare sight. he can see all the people giggling, drunkenly making their way across the streets and down the sidewalks, friends helping other friends support themselves, girls walking while carrying their heels because their feet have begun to cramp, strangers giggling and going on with their lives. renjun allows for himself to observe everyone doing their own thing, stars in the sky shining brightly above him, but even with his focus on the other people around, his attention quickly floats back to you, and he notices that you're too lost in your own world of observation.

though he asked you to come home with him, renjun didn't really think the whole thing through, it was a weirdly impulsive decision that he would usually always overthink before making, but with you.. you just have this unsaid affect on renjun he can't explain, you have this ability to turn his brain into mush.

of course, he couldn't just go home with you without telling his friends he was going home. donghyuck was already passed out by that point, so renjun was spared from his teasing, but that didn't mean jaemin and chenle went easy on him, with their raising eyebrows and tormenting tones of voice.

you charmed those two immediately, impressing them by doing literally anything. they both exchanged enticed glances as they sent renjun a few frivolous looks, looks that he chose to respond with glares as he tried to ignore his quickly reddening face. jaemin made sure to take extra time shaking your hand (a handshake which renjun laser focused on), even squeezing it for extra measure.

so renjun was sort of right, you do easily have people falling at your feet.

renjun pretended to not notice the way you clearly enchanted the two, and he also pretended not to notice the snicker you let out as he quickly dragged you away from his friends, midway through one of his jaemin's pick up lines.

no he wasn't jealous, and even if he was, he was not going to admit that to anyone, not even to any of his friends (the little 'lucky' text he got from chenle was funny, though, he'd admit that).

"the stars are beautiful tonight".

renjun snaps out of his whirlwind of thoughts as he hears the small mutter from you. the two of you are still holding hands, when did you even begin holding hands? renjun has no idea, but for some reasons, it feels right, like your fingers slip together so perfectly, just your hand in his is the perfect feeling, like it was the missing piece of a puzzle.

you're staring up at the sky, eyes practically lit up in interest as you stared at the luminous balls of gas in the night sky. renjun lets out a small laugh at how engrossed you are in the stars shining in the sky, and you notice that small laugh, because you finally stop your stargazing to look over at renjun. "what's so funny?"

"you just look so into the stars" he replies, a small smile coming to his face as he looks into your eyes. "your fascination is admirable" he whispers, saying the words in a low voice like it's a secret he wants to keep only between you two.

you blink, staring at renjun as if you were in love with him or something, a look that makes him feel much more giddy than he'd like to admit. then, though you're clearly flustered, you clear your throat and try your best to not make your red face obvious. "really? i think my interest in stars is nerdy".

"nerdy?"

"that's what everyone else says".

renjun lets his face fall in just the slightest, the words upsetting him lightly. still, he doesn't say anything about it, instead answering something else you mentioned. "your interest in stars is cute, i like seeing people so passionate about things".

you raise an eyebrow, only focusing on one specific word in that sentence. "cute?"

"it was the first word to come to mind".

"hm" you swing your hands back and forth, scooting closer to renjun as you do so.

you're close, you're so close, renjun is unsure of how he's even able to continue breathing with the way your shoulders brush against each other, he squeezes your laced hands, trying to brush off any other thoughts he might be having at the moment. "is stargazing a hobby of yours?"

"it's only really a hobby i do on certain nights, nights when i know certain constellations can be soon, or a shooting star is happening".

"ah" renjun loves that response much more than he can express with words. "you always talk about your hobbies as if you're in love with them".

"well it's just how i get when i'm very into something, i can't really just express things normally when it comes to shit like that".

renjun lets out a laugh at the words, catching view of his tall apartment building and tightening his grip on your hand, making you squeak in surprise as he jolts you forward with a hard tug of your hand. you could easily overpower him, make his life harder by refusing to be dragged, but you allow him to drag you forward towards the doors of his building.

"jeez, don't yank my arm off, huang" you chastise playfully, using his surname to aggravate him, but he only shoots a small glare at you. "what's the rush?" you inquire, frowning lightly as his hand slips from yours, you settle beside him in the elevator, watching him as he presses the five button with his finger.

"there is no rush" he lies, a clear, bold faced lie. he does nothing but smile at you, anxiously swaying back and forth as he stares at the elevator going up one by one. "don't give me that look".

you chuckle at his sudden scolding. "what look?"

"the look where you start reading my inner most thoughts" renjun states, as if he was sure of the kind of look you were giving him. when he sees the puzzled look in your eyes, he sighs. "it's a look i've gotten from many of my friends, feels like you're seeing through my head and know what i'm thinking".

you smile at his explanation, finding the words to be humorous. "well you do think so expressively, i feel like i can hear your thoughts running".

"should i be worried about how you described that?"

"definitely not, what are you thinking so hard about?"

renjun pauses at the question, the dinging of the elevator at floor two, doors opening to welcome in two drunk college students, two drunk college students who press the floor eight button and move to a corner of the elevator to keep themselves wrapped in each other's arms. renjun blinks at the sight of them, unconsciously moving closer to you, bumping into you in the process.

you move your hand down to intertwine your fingers with his, an action that renjun questions, but doesn't rebel against. the students are much too interested in their own conversation to care about you two, so you nudge renjun, who finally looks back at you. "answer my question, what were you thinking so hard about?"

the volume of your voice is much lower, you probably don't want to disturb the also muttering students in the elevator, but it's also because you don't want to expose renjun's answer to these two strangers he probably doesn't want to share his thoughts with. "it's a secret" he responds with a small whisper, leaning closer to you as says those words, the words a whisper against your ear.

his sudden closeness is enough to fluster you.

seemingly glad that he caused your newly reddened face, renjun leans away from your ear and smiles happily, swinging your laced hands back and forth. if you think about it, the two of you kind of look like a couple, the thought is enough to amuse you, because you really just are strangers who enjoy kissing each other, you didn't even know each other two hours ago, and now he's bringing you home with him.

if this is the story you think it is, the ending seems pretty clear.

it seems that the time flies by, because you look up at the counting numbers and the elevator dings, floor five. you barely have time to react before renjun's grip on your hand tightens, and he drags you by your hand once again, this time out of the elevator and towards his unit.

you swear you hear those drunk college kids giggle at the sight of you two.

"this place is nice" you comment absentmindedly, reading off each of the numbers placed on each of the other doors. "better than anything i could afford on my own, what do you do for work?"

"i work for a graphic design company".

"what's your position? do you run the place or something?"

renjun snickers at your surprise, finally stopping the two of you in front of a door which reads the number 'fifteen'. he begins digging through his pocket for his house key, though acknowledging your question as he does so. "i'm just good at my job i guess.. pay has always been good for me".

after finding his key, renjun attempts to open the door, but he struggles a few times to put his key in the key slot, an annoyed groan escaping his lips as he turns his key over again.

you chuckle at his little battle, catching his scrunched nose and furrowed eyebrows. "need some help there?"

renjun sends you a quick glare. "haha, very funny" he says, looking back to his front door and finally, after what seemed like forever, he unlocked the door of his home, gesturing with his head for you to come in.

you blink at him, but as you watch him step forward, you also step forward, letting yourself into his space. you pause as you begin looking around the expanse of an area. it's a nice place, yeah it lives up to the pristine outside of the apartment building, save for a few empty bottles littering the floor. the place is cozy, the air in the room is comforting to you, it isn't thick or anything.

you feel comfortable here.

"you gonna stand there forever?"

you laugh at renjun's inquiry, continuing to look around his complex, picking up on the many art pieces pinned against the wall. "what else am i supposed to do?" you ask back, allowing for renjun's home decor to catch your attention, it's all strangely him, they all describe his personality so well.

"come with me".

"is that an order? or.." you get an answer to that question when you turn to renjun and he stares at you with that pointed look, so you know better than to question his words, and like a lost puppy, you follow behind him to his room.

renjun doesn't say anything more, just takes off his jacket and falls face first onto his bed. you sort of just stand there awkwardly, fidgeting with the zipper on your jacket. renjun turns over, eyes staring up at the ceiling, they then flick over to you, a soft look in them dedicated towards you.

you simply blink at him, chuckling at the display before you. renjun doesn't speak, just gestures you over with his index finger. when you step closer, you simply sigh and sit down on his soft mattress, you were about to fall back and go to sleep yourself, but you stop from doing such things. "what's up with you?"

renjun sighs, and that sigh quickly forms into a soft whine. "i'm so tired y/n" his head rests against his pillow, and his eyes begin drooping shut slowly.

you smile, he's so cute. "then sleep".

renjun seems to want to comply with that, but he thinks about it before answering. "are you still gonna be here when i wake up?"

the question baffles you, it's a question asked with pure exhaustion in his voice, a look in his eye that's so tempting you just want to dive in to kiss him at this very moment, but you stop yourself from acting on such desires, trying to seem not as desperate as you felt. you shrug at the question, which makes renjun frown. "it depends on if you want me here when you wake up".

"if i wake up in the next few hours and i don't see you right there beside me, we are going to have serious issues y/n".

his demanding tone and the serious look in his eye is enough to get another chuckle out of you. renjun then makes himself comfortable, patting the pillow beside his. "lay down with me".

"you're so bossy" you laugh, and renjun is too annoyed to punch your shoulder, so he lets out a tiny irritated grunt in response. you let your jacket fall to the floor, laying your head down onto the soft material of the pillow, almost falling asleep right then and there.

renjun reaches out and begins caressing your cheek with his thumb. again, it's strangely intimate, a satisfying touch against your face which begins to relax you. renjun has no idea why he keeps doing this, but you would tell him if you felt uncomfortable, and you aren't, you like the feeling if you say so yourself.

but just as you were about to doze off, getting coaxed to sleep by the smooth ministrations on your cheek, renjun asks one last question.

"you sure you're still gonna be here when i wake up?"

through your sleepy haze, you nod and let out a tiny chuckle, eyes closing against your own will. "i will, promise".

"promise.." renjun mimics, it's not a question, not a statement or anything, he just whispers the word into the air, continuing to stroke your cheek as he stares at you, slowly slipping into a deep sleep.

sleep quickly takes him away as well, but not before he smiles at the sight of your tired face.

AT 8:03 AM, RENJUN FOUND HIMSELF IN the same spot he fell asleep, which he very much expected. he only rubs his eyes in the slightest, they take a little too long to adjust to the light permeating through the window, though only a small crack of sunlight, it's enough to make his eyes close once again, taking a few more eye openings for them to adjust to the sight of his surrounding room. when they finally to adjust, he's quick to glance over at the spot beside him, and he smiles as he sees you in the same place he left you. you had kept your promise of still being there when he woke up, and though renjun would probably call himself stupid for this on most days, he stops and stares. he keeps his head laid back comfortably onto his pillow and watches you sleep.

that sounds pretty creepy in hindsight, but at the current moment, renjun feels like he has to stare at your snoring figure. your face is half turned into the pillow your laying on, your cheeks dusted red as they press into the soft fabric of the pillow. he giggles softly as he watches your chest rise and fall, the only sound he can hear being the inhales your taking in and the exhales your letting out.

ah, so you're not a snorer, renjun finds the fact to be surprising. it's not that he expected you to have monster snoring habits or something, but he expected at least some sort of loud noises from you while you slept, but no, you sleep so gently.

you sleep like a baby, and you also look like one in the dimly lit room. sun shining on your face, highlighting your features, your pink lips parted as you let out short breaths, your cheeks a rosy red, he can't help but smile at the sight of you sleeping in front of him.

you look so cute, so serene, renjun wants to pinch your cheek and never let go.

but then he's struck with the realization that he has to wake up, a realization that makes him frown as he lets out a small groan.

the sound emanating from his lips seems to be loud enough that you startle out of your slumber, shifting slightly against the mattress. renjun almost jumps back in surprise when he sees you shift again, rubbing your eyes and letting out a small groan. renjun doesn't take his eyes off you, though, just watches you stretch awake, then close your eyes once again.

after what seems like forever, your eyes open and you blink a few times at the male in front of you. when you stop blinking, you smile at him, as he makes no effort to even try to look away from you. "hi" you greet, taking a deep breath as you sigh against the material of the pillow under your head.

"hi" renjun greets back, unable to resist his giggle as he stares at your tired morning face.

you try your best to tilt your head, humming at his greeting. "were you watching me?" you ask immediately, trying your best to tease him even with the rasp of your voice.

"yeah".

"you creep".

renjun does nothing to confirm or deny the claim, simply hums and gently flicks your forehead, making you let out a wince of pain, a wince he's sure you're faking. "you sleep like a baby".

you furrow your eyebrows, seemingly confused by that statement. "what is that supposed to mean?"

"you sleep so peacefully, like you have no responsibilities in life".

the statement makes you snicker, and you turn more into the pillow to hide your quickly reddening face. renjun giggles again, fulfilling his desire of pinching your cheek, an act of affection that you quickly flinch away from, clearly flustered but instead feigning annoyance.

"that's a stupid way to describe it".

"was just describing what i saw".

"okay then responsible adult, go get up and do responsible adult things".

renjun rolls his eyes, shoving your shoulder and rising from his comfortable blanket, stretching his arms above his head. he slaps your thigh, eliciting a small yelp from you. "come on, let's go".

you seem puzzled by that order. "let's go where?"

"to the bathroom, we have to go brush our teeth".

"we?"

"yes we, get up i have an extra toothbrush for you".

so, again like a lost puppy, you rise from your place on renjun's bed and follow behind him to the bathroom.

you find it laughable how easily you fall under his control.

"do you enjoy ordering me around?"

"i think you enjoy being ordered around" renjun is quick to accuse, an accusation that you just chuckle at, which is all he needs as confirmation. he gets into a familiar spot in front of his mirror, picking up his toothbrush and turning on the sink. "you never question my orders, you always follow me around, do you like that in guys?"

you laugh at the words, clearly amused but clearly not offended. he picks up an extra toothbrush and hands it over to you, having to resist the urge to smile at the sight of your messy hair. "you could say something like that".

renjun scoffs softly. "you're gross" he comments, rolling his eyes as he begins brushing his teeth, staring at you through the reflection of the mirror. renjun focuses less on brushing his teeth and more on how pretty you look, even having just rolled out of bed and hair pretty much messed out of proportion, you still look so beautiful in his eye.

you notice his eyes on you, and seeing as he's currently brushing his teeth, you decide to take your chance. "if you like how i look that much you can just say so".

renjun almost bites down on his toothbrush upon hearing the words. clever asshole, he says in his head, irritated by how you took that opportunity to make a witty comment.

you grin in victory, beginning to brush your teeth just as renjun spits out the toothpaste formerly in his mouth. "you think you're sooo smooth, huh?"

he's annoyed, most definitely flustered, though, if his red cheeks are any indicator, but he's not going to give the satisfaction of flustering him (even though you definitely did). you nod at his question, proud of your flirty little comment.

"you're so annoying".

"and cute right?"

the two of you make eye contact through the mirror reflection again, and you use that opportunity to wink at him while he has his eyes on you, only making renjun scrunch his nose again.

"you're not cute".

"i think you'd disagree, seeing as how you were literally devouring me back in that bathroom".

renjun sends you a glare, immediately flipping you off as he sees you wink again in the reflection of the mirror.

"at least be nice to me".

renjun rolls his eyes so much that he's sure they're going to get stuck in the same spot.

oh you're so good at annoying him.

AT 10:48 AM, RENJUN FOUND HIMSELF IN a spot he'd rather not be in. he lets na jaemin get away with things way too often, because there are way too many bottles on the floor and at least half of them were drank by him. still, he can't just leave the mess on the floor, it's not like it'll clean itself up. after eating breakfast, and making sure to insult your favorite cereals, renjun stared at the hefty bottle mess on the floor for what seemed like years. he then rolled his eyes and let out a groan knowing he had to clean it all up. he can't really make an excuse now, so, he starts his picking up the empty bottles off the floor, cursing in his head as he finds himself starting to get annoyed once again.

"renjun! do you see this?"

oh right, you're still here. renjun pauses to look over at you, and he lightly chuckles at what he sees. your standing there (in one of his sweaters by the way holy shit) with a polaroid camera in your hands. it's a camera renjun recognizes, he used to love that thing when he first got it, but he forgot about it after a while. "where'd you find that?"

"in your room".

renjun raises an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips. "were you going through my stuff?"

you look baffled by the question, and you quickly stutter through your response. "no! no! i wasn't i was just looking for a sweater because you told me to and i found it in your closet!"

renjun finds it easy to laugh at your display, and the frown on your face is so cute he has to resist the urge to kiss you right then and there. "okay then, what's so interesting about it?"

"well nothing in particular i just really like polaroid cameras!"

you're so.. cute? adorable? precious? all of those adjectives describe you perfectly. you're always so giddy about the things your into, even the hobbies most people would consider "boring" you talk about with such interest, renjun has no idea why he notices you this way, it's never been like this with most of his new years flings. yeah most of them have made it to his home, but it's simply something about you, you make renjun feel a sort of way he never thought he'd feel for a guy he met at a bar on new years eve.

you don't feel like just a fling, you feel like more than that, you sort of feel like home in a way. he would love to go out with you sometime, even if the new years eve bathroom makeout session never happened, he thinks a date with you would be perfect, he can already envision it now.

but wait, why is he doing that? why is he standing here, staring at your pretty face, and thinking about dating you? there's no way he feels anything serious for you, right? it's not like he's in love with you, he can't be! you don't fall in love with someone you've only known for a good eleven hours!

he isn't even sure if he knows what love is, but he knows he can't be in love with you.

renjun snaps out of his thoughts when he hears the click of a camera, he immediately turns to over to you, and he frowns as he sees your fingers on the button of the camera. "y/n".

you blink, catching his frown, any playfulness in your tone immediately disappears. "what? did i do something wrong?"

"why'd you take a picture?"

you again seem baffled by the question, because you let out a small snicker. "you looked very pretty in the moment".

"i don't think that's true".

"it is! you're so photogenic are you kidding me!?"

you stare at the polaroid containing the picture of renjun in your hands, smiling softly at what you see. renjun smiles at the words, feeling his cheeks flare up as you gaze down at the polaroid. "you're so corny".

"and you're still cornier".

renjun snickers, but he doesn't say anymore, turning away from you to focus back on picking up the bottles on the floor. you finally look up, placing the polaroid of him on the counter. "you seem very into that".

you hum, stepping closer to him. "i told you! i really like polaroid cameras!" renjun turns back to you, and he almost falls onto the floor realizing how close you are.

you stare down at the camera, playing with the several buttons. "i don't have a polaroid camera back at my place, but i have a point and shoot camera! maybe i can show it to you sometime".

you smile as you say those words, immediately turning around and going to place the camera on the counter, you miss renjun's reaction to your words. what did you mean by sometime? does that mean you're still going to talk after this? does that mean you're planning to take him to your place at least once? he can't help but overthink the words instantly.

but before he can ask you about it, you gasp. "you've been cleaning on your own the whole time!? let me help you!"

and renjun doesn't exactly know when to bring up his many thoughts, so the two of you begin cleaning the bottles together. you make sure to slip out a few more flirty comments in that time, comments that renjun makes sure to combat with steady glares and muttered curses, even with how red his face becomes.

for some reason, this feels.. right. renjun finds cleaning with you to be fun, he's enjoying even the smallest of moments he can share with you.

it sort of feels like you two are dating.

renjun spends way too much of his time staring at you. staring at you pick up bottles from the floor, staring at you ramble about cereal, staring at you take many more polaroids of him, polaroids you stated you'd "cherish forever".

this is strange, it's strange how he feels. it's strange how you make him feel, he doesn't remember the last time he ever felt this way for any guy, for anyone.

so, as renjun watches you wash the dishes, listening to your ramblings, he wonders if this is what love feels like, if this is what you were talking about back at the bar when you first met. you snicker at something you said in one of your random stories, but you stop as you notice renjun zoning out, clearly not paying attention to you.

"what are you thinking about?" you ask, drying off the plate and placing it back in the rack. renjun again snaps out of his daze, immediately breaking eye contact with you as he feels his face burn. "come on! renjunie~"

your wet finger touches his cheek, making him bite his inner cheek. "just.. something".

"you're not going to tell me about this something?"

renjun shakes his head, uncharacteristically silent. "i don't know if i'm ready to tell you about my stupid thoughts".

you get his words, so you don't press on. "alright, if you ever do want to tell me, you know i'm here".

renjun can only really stare at you, it's then that the realization dawns on him. oh god he likes you, he likes you so much that he might die if he doesn't spit it out instantly.

and when he sees you smile again, he has to use every ounce of energy in his body to not collapse onto the floor.

AT 6:17 PM, RENJUN FOUND HIMSELF IN a little bit of a crisis, a crisis that's begun all because of you. he feels his palms begin getting sweaty, and he can't stare at you for too long or he'll literally melt from how heated his face is becoming. it's literally january, it should be so cold that he's frozen, but he's burning every time he stares at you. he feels so embarrassed just saying something to you, and you can clearly tell you're getting to him because your smiles slowly begin to turn into smirks, smirks that burn into his brain and make his thoughts turn into mush in an instant. now he can't really tell you about his thoughts, because he's afraid of spilling his true feelings if he does.

renjun doesn't feel like any of this is intentional, you're not stringing him along just so you can break his heart and never contact him again.. at least, he hopes you're not. renjun feels like he's been through this exact process so many times, but none of the previous times have ever transpired like this before. you have to be an alien of some sorts, renjun has never met someone like you.

he hears his inner voice laughing in his mind, making fun of him for falling so easily into your hands. you do this each time, renjun, you say it's going to be different this coming new year and it never is, how long until you stop falling for these guys who don't care?

a pit forms in his stomach at the thought, and renjun finds himself upset much more easily than he thought he'd be.

love is weird, love has always been weird. it's never been easy for renjun to ever get love, either he got backstabbed by someone he thought he was on good terms with, or they would ghost him because they weren't interested but couldn't say it with their own fucking words.

why does he assume it'll be any different with you?

why does he assume that you're probably just as into him as he is you? what if he's reading everything wrong and you're really only here for one thing? what if you're just playing the long game?

renjun feels like he has no idea what's real or what's not. he can't read you and it makes him much more anxious than anything, he doesn't want to think that you're just like everyone else but considering his luck with love on new years, you probably are.

he feels like he's about to throw up.

"are you really going to quit your job?"

renjun asks that question out of desperation, out of the need for a conversation. your eyes flick over to him, and a smile comes to your face as you register the question. you look so pretty, the lighting in the room accentuates your features. "with the way it's going there? yeah".

"aren't you afraid of not being able to find more work..?" he bites his inner cheek, he has no idea why he asks that, he doesn't have control over your actions, you could quit whenever you want to, what difference would his opinion make.

"no, i have backup plans for that".

renjun didn't really expect that as an answer, but it's a good answer nonetheless, because he finds himself smiling at your words. "what's with your job that's shitty? is it the people? is it your coworkers?"

"that place is making me feel like garbage under someone's shoe, can't do anything without being yelled at or cussed out by a higher up because i'm being slow, customers lay their hands on me and i can't even do anything because the customer is always right!"

your frustrated, genuinely, probably the first ever time he's seen you frustrated since the clock struck twelve. just seeing you so frustrated is enough to weird him out, so he quickly tries to change the subject. "i hope you succeed at your resolution, that place sounds like hell".

"it is hell, the moment i can escape the confines of that place i'll be free, but anyway, what are you going to do to make your resolution come true?"

renjun blinks at you, mind suddenly blank. "what?"

you shift in your place on the other side of the couch, focusing all of your attention on renjun, who is struggling not to melt under your stare. "your resolution was to stop making mistakes with people you love or whatever, how are you going to fulfill that?"

renjun pauses, silence enveloping the room, he doesn't exactly know how to answer that, yeah he said his resolution with confidence, but that might've just been the alcohol that was in his system at that moment. how was he supposed to stop making the same mistake over and over again if he was currently doing it right now? he's sitting here with you, the cute guy he met at a bar on new years eve that he couldn't resist, it's a repetitive cycle that will never end.

renjun feels like an idiot, a hypocrite, how did he manage to fail at his whole resolution on new years day? he can't believe how easily he surrendered himself to you.

but when renjun glances up at you, catching your eyes in the process, he almost wants to fall into your arms and never leave them, he wants to wrap his arms around you and never let go.

"i think that resolution will take a while to reach, love is complicated and all.. i really just need time, i guess".

"time?"

renjun is afraid his voice is going to sound too quiet if he speaks. you stare at him with those eyes again, you stare at him as if you're in love with him, and renjun thinks that's crazy, because why would you ever be in love with him? the idea is a stupid one, he should cast it aside.

"yeah time, time is precious.. love takes time, i think this year, i'll be willing to wait for it".

the words strike you in a way you don't expect, and renjun picks up on it, because you pause for a moment and stare at him for a while. you stare for so long that renjun swears he's going to melt under your gaze, you then smile, your smile so pretty that renjun swears he's going to fall to the floor.

"how long are you willing to wait?"

"as long as it takes".

your about to respond again, but renjun quickly stands up, changing the subject. "do you like coffee ice cream?" he immediately asks, glancing at his fridge as he tries his best to pretend he's unaffected by your pretty eyes staring at him like that.

your eyes light up, clearly entertained by the idea of an ice cream party happening. "yeah, i like all ice cream flavors".

renjun snorts, clearly amused by your response. "weirdo".

you furrow your eyebrows, feigning offense at the words. renjun smiles at the perturbed look on your face, walking over to his fridge to go get the ice cream he had mentioned. "your calling me weird? you're so mean to me".

renjun doesn't listen to your complaints, he snickers at your tone of voice. you frown as you hear him laugh, crossing your arms stubbornly and turning away from him when he comes back with pints of ice cream. "are you mad at me?"

you don't respond.

renjun scoffs playfully, sitting down across from you. he blinks at you, watching you resist the urge to smile. "y/n~"

"shut up i'm trying to ignore you".

"you can't ignore me! or no ice cream!"

you gasp at the words, immediately giving him all of your attention. "hey! you can't do that if you offered it to me!"

"i can! and i will!"

"come on huang renjun!"

renjun only giggles as your complaints skyrocket in volume.

AT 11:34 PM, RENJUN FOUND HIMSELF ON top of the world. okay, not literally, but he felt like he was at the very moment. you had stayed for much longer than the both of you intended for you to, you kept saying that you would leave whenever, stop making renjun feel uncomfortable (did you really think you were making him feel that way? oh you have no idea), but he continued to deny your claims, he denied it until 11 o'clock rolled around and he found himself back at the time he started, except it was all different now. renjun is on the rooftop of his apartment building, staring up at the sky and the shining stars that create a line of luminosity across the airspace. the only reason renjun is on the roof right now is because you convinced him.

you managed to convinced him so easily, pleading eyes on display and pout enormous.

"renjun?" you asked as you walked into the kitchen, staring outside the open window at the night sky, lightly shivering at the cold air that hit you. "can i ask for a favor?"

renjun turned to you, running a hand through his hair as he stared at you. he's probably do you a million favors, how hasn't he done you one today?

"yeah, ask away".

you paused for a moment, staring at renjun for a what seemed like forever (in renjun's metrics), a seemingly anxious look in your eyes. "are we allowed to go to the rooftop of the building?"

renjun furrowed his eyebrows, puzzled by the question, why would you be curious about that?

"uh.. why?"

you stayed silent for a while, the longest you've ever gone without talking to renjun this day, that's weird, he's used to you running your mouth all the time. your eyes casted to the side, and renjun narrowed his own, noticing your sudden nervousness.

"i wanna go look at the stars.." you muttered, not looking at renjun as you said those words.

renjun let out a small laugh at the realization of what you wanted, but you seemed to think he was making fun of you, because you looked away again, clearly embarrassed by his laughter. "you know what we don't have to just pretend i never asked that i'll go now—"

"no no no! don't take it that way, i think it's cute, i'll go with you".

renjun likes describing your fascination for stars as 'cute', a fact that you made sure to note as you watched him grab his jacket. "what are you waiting for? come on!"

and what do you do when the huang renjun gives you an order? you obey like a mind controlled robot.

so, you allowed for renjun to take your hand (an action that flustered you much more than it should've) and lead you up to roof of his apartment building, the cold january air doing nothing to deter him from his mission, the mission he wanted to complete because of you.

your fingers are still intertwined when you make it up there, but your now less focused on his warm hands and more on the luminous lights in the night sky. your jacket is unzipped, barely protecting you from the freezing temperature of the outside, but the stars are much more appealing to you.

renjun chuckles lightly, feeling you squeeze his hand as another breeze of cold air rushes past you. "you're so into them y/n" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.

"they're so pretty" you mutter, your eyes practically sparkling with amazement.

renjun watches you for what seems like forever (in his own metrics), distracted by your face. he admires your pure interest, it makes him smile, a smile that you clearly notice, as he catches your glancing eyes.

you then sigh, shivering lightly from the cold air outside. "renjun, i have a question for you".

your tone is much more serious than he expects it to be, and a pit forms in his stomach almost immediately. "you have to answer it with complete honesty though okay?"

renjun almost can't look you in the eye, and you grab both of his hands, facing him as you begin swinging your laced hands back and forth. renjun nods, almost a little too enthusiastically, but he can't exactly worry about that right now.

"do you like me?"

god of course i do, are you stupid?

but renjun bites his tongue, just chuckling and looking to the side. he squeezes your hands, looking back at you with an indescribable expression. "yes".

you look surprised, which surprises renjun himself. "yes? like actually—"

"y/n i don't know what you think has been transpiring today but— i don't know i really do like you, i'm not sure if it's love yet or whatever but i don't want to just let you go, i don't want for this day to end and for us to go back to being strangers again i.. i want to keep you in my life".

you blink, baffled by the words. your face reddens, you hope you can use the cold as an excuse for that. "really?"

renjun lets out a silent laugh, you're so cute. "yes really, was i not obvious?"

"was i not obvious?"

renjun realizes the irony of the situation, and he giggles again, looking down at the floor. "you're so dumb y/n" he pokes your cheek with his index finger. "but yeah, i'd like to go out with you sometime.. like, on a date".

your about to fall to the floor.

"alright, we can start with that.. dates, no labels, no rushing, we can take time with this".

renjun likes the sound of that, and he communicates that thought to you with another squeeze of your hand, smiling prettily at you. "i can get behind that" he leans closer intentionally. "can i still kiss you though?"

you roll your eyes, he's adorable, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips, your way of answering his question. "yes, you dummy".

renjun scoffs softly, ignoring how quickly his face is heating up. "you're corny".

"and you're still cornier".

renjun would fight with you on it, but he thinks he'll let you have this win tonight.

RENJUN IS EATING HIS LUNCH WHEN JAEMIN brings it up, he wasn't really listening to his friends converse all this time, distracted by something else, or someone else.. he supposes. his head finally shoots up after a good twenty minutes of him ignoring his friends conversation about if mark could beat jeno in a fight, and he's met with a smug smiling na jaemin, a look he's quick to furrow his eyebrows at. jaemin snickers as he sees renjun's confusion, ready to ask a completely idiotic question. "renjunie? how did you and your little fling turned out?" the question is one jaemin probably should've asked a week ago, but he's asking it now that january is coming to a close? how amusing.

renjun blinks, chuckling immediately at the question. "what do you mean?"

jaemin scowls, slapping his arm lightly. "that cute guy you took home on new years eve! what happened between you two?"

"oh the cute guy?" chenle is quick to inquire as he turns to the older, jaemin nods in response. "yeah him! what was his name again..? y/n?"

"oh right! he was cute! did he let you hit?"

"excuse me?"

"i can't believe i passed out!" donghyuck whines in frustration, earning a small pat on the back from jeno, who was trying his best to stifle his giggles. "i wanted to meet renjun's cute guy" he pouts, sinking into his seat with crossed arms.

"oh he was so cute, hyuck, renjun got lucky with him".

"and funny too! funnier than the asshole from our last new years eve outing!"

renjun simply watches as jaemin and chenle go on to rave about you to donghyuck, who seems impressed even though you aren't even there, he laughs in his head at the fact, you're so charming you don't even have to be present to impress his friends.

"he sounds better than the other guys".

"he is!"

jaemin then turns back to renjun, forgetting about his first mission entirely. "soooo renjunie? how'd it go with your guy? did you sleep with him?"

renjun's face flushes at the question, he is very much embarrassed. he rolls his eyes, face practically on fire. "..yes".

"was he good?"

"don't ask that!"

jaemin yelps at the slap he gets from renjun, pouting as he stares at him. "asshole" he's quick to say, sticking his tongue out at the older, who just rolls his eyes again.

"so what happened after that?"

"what?"

chenle is clearly very invested in this. "did he just leave after that? did you get his number? are you two still in touch?"

"and if you aren't can you give me his socials?"

renjun gives jaemin a side glare, answering the question with almost a minute of silence. he hesitates before saying anything, earning weird looks from his friends. "well.."

"come on! spit it out!"

"don't rush me" renjun grits his teeth, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt as he thinks about you, a small smile coming to his face as he does. "were going on a date later today.."

chenle gasps, jaemin yells, donghyuck slams his hand onto the table, and jeno begins silently clapping. "real shit!?"

"yeah.."

"oh my god!" jaemin squeals, shaking renjun out of pure excitement. "congrats renjunie!"

renjun just lets him at this point, laughing at his energy. "don't get so up, it's not official yet were just going out".

"still! progress is being made!"

renjun can't resist his smile, and he looks down to avoid eye contact with his friends.

"renjun!"

renjun snaps his head towards the voice, seeing the front desk clerk walking up to him with a bouquet of peonies in his hands. "hi, do you need something?"

the clerk smiles, extending the bouquet towards him. "a guy came here and dropped these off, he told me to give them to you".

renjun blinks, slowly taking the bouquet of flowers as he pieces the puzzle together. "thank you" he whispers, staring at the flowers in his hands as his face heats up quickly.

as he examines the bouquet, ignoring the teasing of his friends, he finds a note, a note that he immediately smiles at upon reading.

a little birdie told me these were your favorite flowers? i can see why :) anyway, eat well, i'll see you tonight pretty!!

love, y/n ♡

oh you're so sweet.

jaemin gasps as he reads from the older's shoulder. "i can't believe it! you hit the jackpot with this guy renjunie!" but renjun can't even find it in himself to get mad at jaemin for being nosy, he's too busy trying to not cry at this gesture.

renjun can't believe he has you, he feels so lucky, like the happiest guy in the world.

"why can't i get flowers from a cute guy? when is it my turn?!"

renjun only chuckles at chenle's complaints, much too distracted thinking about you.

[olderthannetfic]

This recent talk about authors has me curious: Do you have favourite authors? Or favourite books that you'd recommend (as in not specifically recommend to a person looking to read a specific genre etc. but rather a book you loved reading and would love to shove into absolutely everybody's faces if you could)? Do you only read in English or do you also like to read in other languages? What book or books are you currently reading?

And just so these aren't one-way-street-like snoopily curious questions: my favourite authors are Emma Donoghue and Hannah Kent; my favourite books are "Slammerkin" by Emma Donoghue, "Burial Rites" by Hannah Kent, "Christmas Eve Kittens" by Wilma Counts, Cathleen Clare and Debbie Raleigh, "Every day" by David Levithan, "Der Kristallpalast" (The Crystal Palace) by Oliver Plaschka, Alexander Flory and Matthias Mösch; I'm currently reading "Time of the Magicians" by Wolfram Eilenberger and anxiously awaiting Hannah Kent's most recent book "Devotion" to be translated to my native language.

I am very bad at accurately sorting books into genres, but I'd guess most of the books I've read may be classified as YA, though I personally don't know what classifies a book as YA apart from "is written with young adults as the target group," but that's too broad a description to be useful to anyone in my opinion, heh. Some things I've read I'd sort into (also way too broadly classified) stuff like romance (Christmas Eve Kittens), crime or detective fiction [Krimi in german combines both] (for kids The Three Investigators and The Famous Five, and arguably for adults Sherlock Holmes, Miss Marple, Hercule Poirot though I've only seen Poirot films not yet read Poirot books, shame on me!), horror (Fear Street series as horror for kids and Lovecraft for adults), historical fiction (books by Hannah Kent and Emma Donoghue, Lilac Girls), historical nonfiction (Time of the Magicians and The Visionaries by Wolfram Eilenberger), steampunk (Der Kristallpalast, World Shaker, Steamed, Magierdämmerung), nonfiction (Zoo Station: The Story of Christiane F.), poetry (Heinrich Heine and Edgar Allan Poe) among other things like light-hearted children's books (St. Clare's series).

Some of the aforementioned books are classified as YA, and in my opinion reasonably so, though I do believe that classifying YA as a genre itself is quite useless since it only describes the target group but barely describes what a book is about, if that makes sense.

If I had to write down some classifiers for YA, I'd say it's maybe books that are written in a way that's accessible to a person who is no longer a child but still may be likely to not have experienced much of the adult world yet and may not necessarily be very well-read or knowledgeable about more "mature" topics on a deeper level. I'd guess that for example a book that's about topics that people may have come into contact with during their adolescence in some way may be YA like drugs (Blue Highway by Diane Tullson) and emotional rollercoasters and bullying (Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher, Easy Meat by Maureen Stewart) and stalking (Unheimliche Nähe by Patricia Schröder) and mental illnesses like eating disorders (Jeansgröße 0 by Brigitte Blobel) or depression and physical ilnesses (Before I Die by Jenny Downham, Skellig by David Almond though it's mainly about fantasy and arthritis isn't the focal point if I'm not misremembering) etc. (all of the examples are YA I've read and would also classify as such) or maybe a book that contains entry-level knowledge about philosophy that you may have learned in school or that you may yourself have come across in some way unrelated to school but that doesn't require deeper knowledge on that topic or on specific philosophers or philosophy schools for its target audience to understand well...

Now that I've forgotten whatever point I wanted to make: sorry for rambling, I've been sitting in your askbox trying to remember the titles and looking up their translations and the authors' names for the past hour or so instead of doing the household chores I had planned to do today lol. Off to eat bread for lunch because now I'm too hungry to cook, oops.

Have a nice day!

--

I'm currently reading Invitation to a Banquet: The Story of Chinese Food by Fuchsia Dunlop.

I don't have any books I want to thrust upon everyone. I think that's a good way to breed haters for things I love.

In general, favorite authors of mine are... hmm... Agatha Christie, Tamara Allen, Loretta Chase, Georgette Heyer, Mary Elizabeth Braddon... IDK. It's hard to think of people off the top of my head. I like the current indie "m/m romance" scene in English, but it feels like it's still early days for that industry, and I can't think of a lot of authors I love who have multiple series and who aren't going through a career slump. (Like I love Jordan L. Hawk in general, but his latest stuff isn't making me rush to read more even if I'm still backing his Patreon. KJ Charles not only irritated me with dumb posts but started writing suckier books till I no longer buy her at all.)

I've read a lot of Golden Age detective fiction and some hard boiled US stuff (think 1930s and 40s). I've probably reread those sorts of books more than any others. While I certainly have authors I like, I only very, very rarely reread anything, and a lot of what I read is by non-prolific or long-dead people, so I don't have a bunch of names I go to the bookstore for currently.

My grandmother owned a fuckton of Three Investigators books, so I devoured those as a kid, though I think most Americans my age don't care about them.

I read in Spanish too. The only thing I've gotten through a lot of that springs to mind is the capitan Alatriste series. In general, if I travel somewhere Spanish speaking, I'll try to pick up some books, but I usually end up with things that are too highfallutin and literary for my taste or that are real downers. (Plus I'm a slow reader in Spanish, so the more literary stuff is a slog.) I like fun trash, and most of the fun trash I've seen on bookshelves is translated American romance novels and that kind of thing. I'll read in translation, but not if it's from English.

I do read manga in Japanese, but I'm not anywhere near good enough to read novels at this point.

[cyberr-v0id]

Could you tell me more about yourself?

It is for something important.

Oh yeah sure!

I’m cyberr, I go by a lot of names, currently my favourites are Phoenix, Leonardo, and Jackdaw. I use any pronouns and I am asexual.

I have numerous skin conditions, feet bones in the wrong place, and a really bad back at the moment, as well as chronic daily headaches . So uh. You could say that I am as fit as a fiddle, if the fiddle in question is the one in my garage, which has all its strings snapped.

I really enjoy reading, and have done since I was seven. I’m currently reading the reappearance of Rachel Price, as well as the Iliad. Some of my most favourite books include: the wizards of once, how to train your dragon, murder most unladylike, all about romance, Sherlock Holmes, and treasure island.

I’m also a writer, I’ve been working on this one story for five years now. Hopefully I’ll finish it one day. I write a lot of poetry.

I love mysteries and have been apart of numerous mystery solving groups, several founded by me.

I’m an artist, of course, and my top three mediums are pencil, watercolour, and digital. I’m not the best at digital tbh. I hate acrylic and acrylic hates me.

I usually do a lot of sports but right now because of my back I can’t do a few of them. I can still do swimming, archery, rounders (tragically:/), stand up paddle boarding, and roller booting. Because they don’t involve as much bending down.

I’m gay

I’m a part time goth, which is to say I listen to goth music (my favourites atm are fields of the Nephilim and all about Eve) but only sometimes dress goth, and in varying degrees of goth. I am the most inconsistently dressing person I know, and right now my catchphrase is ‘the duality of man’. For some reason.

Music wise I listen to a lot. One day I will truly be able to say that I listen to everything. But not yet. My most favourite band is the crane wives

I want to be a marine archaeologist when I’m older, or, failing that, a famous actor. Let’s be honest here, unless I do become a really famous actor, neither career path is likely to pay well. Marine archaeological, or maritime archaeology, is all about ships wrecks, and how cultures of the past interacted with the ocean and other bodies of water around it.

I like all the animals. Genuinely there is lot a single animal that I don’t like. Well- I’m not too keen on bugs but I wish them all the best, and may many of them please stay away. I have a severe phobia of moths, and slight arachnophobia that depends on how I’m feeling and what the spider is. Tarantula? No problem, big and hairy enough to be a kitten. Now let’s move away from it in case it sprays its hairs. Brown garden spider? Bloody Mary on a motor bike get it Away.

My attention span is low. I am a theatre kid. As I type this is have a musical going in the background.

. I’m so sorry I’ve kinda made this really long, idk how much information you need

Fandoms: rise: tmnt, Percy Jackson, the owl house, the dragon prince, httyd, the inheritance cycle, red wall, Sherlock Holmes, mythology, epic the musical, so much more I can’t think of right now

I love the ocean

Lmk if you need anything else, hope this has helped, and uh. Yeah it’s kind long winded

[rosiewitchescottage]

A Kenyan British lady and her Nigerian British husband. They give a beautiful description of why they want to preserve the Britain that they traveled to become a part of.

You can come here and practice any religion. We have a stated value of mutually respecting different faith, cultures etc.

But notice this is 'Mutual' respect, that goes both way.

If there are people who refuse to render you respect for respect, then most of us will be on your side.

All that we ask is that people come here free to practice their own faiths, but whilst respecting the Christian foundation on which our country has been built.

Bring and practice your culture, along with your religion. As long as it doesn't violate any of our laws, we're fine with it.

All we ask for is to respect our native culture. And yes, we do have a culture

. We have foods and drinks that have a British (English, Welsh, Scots, N irish character) Try them out. They may not be spicy. But they do have their own tastiness.

We have loads of music, stretching back through centuries by home grown composers and performers.

Books, plays poetry - You've heard of Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Keats? All British, and there are plenty more.

Folklore and fairy tales - We have four different countries, with their own myths, legends, folklore and fairy tales.

I highly recommend them all.

We love a celebration as much as anyone. Look at how we celebrate Christmas. Think of December as a month long festival of light, music, stories, food, drink and lots of good will. Check out The Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols from King's College Cambridge. You can get it on BBC Radio 4 from Christmas Eve onward.

Easter - Parts of the country have their own customs from the beginning of Lent onwards.

Shrove Tuesday Pancake Races, Egg Rolling

Not sure why Maypole's are here in the Easter section. It's more usually at the beginning of May, the Pagan festival of Beltane, heralding the early days of Summer.

Morris dancing seems rather silly. But it's fun and began as a Spring fertility dance.

Cornwall - Some Cornish people want to be separate from England, some don't. But they're still British, either way

The Countryside - It's not racist. If you live here, it's yours to love and take care of too.

Go and visit, no one's going to stop you. See this gorgeous landscape that we need to take care of and protect.

Our History. - It's there for us to learn from, not to judge.

Some terrible things were done in our past.This is true

So, we find ways to not let it happen again. Most British people are fine with that.

Guess what. All but the tiny but worst percentage of people think this slavery is disgusting.

We don't want to fall into that trap again, so yes, let's keep learning about it.

But also we should learn the full history of slavery thousands, and I do mean many thousands of years ago. Jewish slaves taken to Babylon.

And the worst part? That history isn't over, how about we make up for our part in slavery in the past, by fighting slavery going on right now.

British Empire - Yes, it had some advantages. But that came at the price of a country not being allowed the freedom to rule itself, and that sucks.

So, I think most Brits are happy that it ended. The Commonwealth is a group of independent, self governing nations, that chose to keep the British Monarch as Head of State.

Are there improvements that can be made? I'm sure there are plenty. Let's work on that, rather than focusing on the problems of the past. We can make the present and future better. But the past is what it was.

British Heroes - Were these people paragons of virtue? Err No! They were people, imperfect just like us.

But we celebrate them today, because they did something extra special that helped our country.

Try learning about them. Yes, the bad as well as the good. But remember that it's not the bad that we celebrate them for, so why would we be ashamed of what made them human?

Look at what they did, and even if you can't celebrate them too. You'll at least see why many of us do.

A great speech dear Madam and Sir.

I'm delighted to call you and your children my compatriots.

[cordonianroyalairlines]

Ball Drop

Series: Cordonian Royal Airlines

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Various

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Drake

Word Count: 1,768

Rating: G

Warnings for this chapter: None

“Come on, one more dance!” Riley laughed as she tugged Max toward the dance floor.

“No, really, I’m going to head up to my room now.”

“Really?” She stopped and turned to study him. “With whom?”

“No one!”

“What do you mean, no one?”

“I mean, I’m going to my room alone. To sleep!”

“But it’s not even midnight yet! And I’ve seen at least four hot guys hit on you tonight…” she trailed off as she regarded him thoughtfully. Her eyes widened as a thought occurred to her. “Oh. My. God!”

“What?”

“You’re going to your room alone because of Liam!”

Max scoffed loudly. “Why would you think that?”

“Because there’s no other reason you would turn those guys down! Especially the one with the crop top.” She stole a glance across the room as if to verify her previous opinion. “I don’t say this often because you know you’re a ten…but that guy is out of your league. On a scale of one to ten, he’s an eleven.”

“First of all…” Max followed her eyes before turning back to answer, “He’s a nine. Okay, nine and a half. Can’t I just be sleepy?”

“Since when do you lie to your best friend?”

“Okay, fine.” Max’s shoulders slumped as he let out a long, low exhale. “I have an early flight out in the morning. I want to get back home because Liam invited me to a poetry reading or something.”

“And you’re only telling me this now?”

“It just happened this afternoon, and you were busy pulling all this together.” He gestured back toward the VIP lounge area where her sister’s bachelorette party was in full swing.

“Hm.” She pretended to consider the matter deeply before breaking into a huge grin. “Fine. I’ll let it slide this time. But I want full details of this date.”

“I don’t even know if it is a date! What if he just meant get together and hang out as friends?”

“He’s never invited me or any of the other flight attendants to hang out. It’s a date.”

“I hope so! I’m sorry for leaving you alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have my sister and twenty-six of her closest friends. Not to mention the stripper.”

“Yeah. How did we end up with him again?”

Riley shrugged. “He followed us over from the strip club. I’m pretty sure he likes Amelia’s friend Jessica.”

Max laughed. “It’s been a baffling weekend.”

“Yeah.” Riley agreed. Monaco had been fun, but she was ready to go home. “I can’t believe you’re going to bed early, not to mention alone, on New Year’s Eve. You’ve got it bad!”

“I knooooow!” Max wailed. “What the fuck am I going to do about it?”

“Liam, hopefully,” she snickered.

He couldn’t control the grin that engendered as he gave her a playful shove. “Shut up!”

“Never!”

Max’s gaze locked on something over her shoulder. “Well, I was feeling guilty for leaving you to ring in the new year alone, but something tells me you’re going to be just fine.”

Confusion spilled through her. “What?” She angled her body so she could see what he was looking at. Her eyes widened. Her heart started thumping wildly in her chest. Her palms were suddenly clammy. “What is he doing here?”

“I dunno. Let’s find out.” Max raised his arm and waved it in the air as he called out, “Drake! Drake! Over here!”

“Max, no!” She made a swipe for his arm, but it was too late. He sidestepped her and jogged across the room, returning a few minutes later with Drake in tow.

Drake looked a little bemused as Max deposited him in front of Riley, then said his goodbyes and excused himself to his room. Drake waved bye to Max then turned back to Riley. “What are you two doing here?”

“Oh…ah…” she gestured toward the group of rowdy women dressed in sparkly pink t-shirts, “Sister’s bachelorette party. You?”

He nodded as his eyes tracked down her body, taking in her sparkly pink shirt emblazoned with the words Maid of Honor before answering, “Guy’s weekend.”

She tilted her head to one side, then the other, making a show of looking behind him. “Where are the rest of the guys?”

“Ah….” His head swiveled, looking around the club. “That’s a good question. But it’s not guys plural. It’s just me and Leo.”

“I didn’t know you and Leo were close.”

“We’re not…Bertrand was originally supposed to come with him, but he got sick. Then Liam said it wasn’t his scene…”

“So, you were the third choice, then?”

“Fourth, actually. He tried to get Olivia to go, but she told him what he could do with his invitation. In explicit detail.”

Riley tipped her head back and laughed. “That sounds like her!”

“Heh. Yeah.” A soft smile played across his lips as he appreciated the way her face lit up when she laughed. “How was your Christmas?”

“It was good. Yours?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” he hedged.

“I thought I might see you on Christmas after we landed.”

Surprise flashed across his face. Had she wanted to see him? “I figured you were in a hurry to get to your parents. I guess you made it okay?”

“Oh yes! My mom managed to save me a piece of pumpkin pie. Which is quite a feat in a big family.”

“I can imagine.” He laughed. The way Riley talked about her family made him wonder what it would have been like if his family had stayed close like they had been before his father left.

“Riley? What the hell are you doing here?” Leo stumbled up with his arm slung around a buxom blond that was poured into her gold lame dress. He pointed between her and Drake. “Are you two a thing now?”

“Jesus Rys. You’re fucking drunk.” Drake grumbled.

Leo grinned at him. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? What happened to that redhead you were with earlier?”

Drake froze as a flush crept up his neck. His eyes slid sidewise to take in Riley’s expression as he snapped, “She wasn’t my type.”

Riley was studiously tracing the lines on the carpet with her eyes as she struggled not to react to the thought of Drake with some gorgeous redhead.

“Sure looked like your type when you were sucking face on the dance floor,” Leo smirked.

“Ah…I should go. Nice seeing you both.” Riley spun and headed blindly across the room.

Drake smacked Leo in the chest. “You’re a real dick, Rys, you know that?”

Leo jolted back in dismay as his drink sloshed over the rim of the glass. Confusion colored his voice. “What did I do?”

But Drake was already gone. “Riley, wait!” He rushed after her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around. “It’s not like that! She’s friends with the girl Leo is with and they kind of pawned her off on me. She kissed me but I-“

“Drake, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“You’re upset.” He tried to keep the note of surprised happiness out of his voice. He failed.

It was her turn to blush. Embarrassment swirled through her as the music stopped and people started counting down toward the new year. She felt ridiculous. They weren’t a couple. Why did she care what he did? “No, really. It’s fine. I just…after Christmas I kind of thought….I mean….never mind. I should—” She tried to turn and walk away again.

He moved without thought, lunging after her. His fingers wrapped around her arm. He stumbled to get in front of her as he pulled her to stop.

Fury snapped in her eyes. “What?”

“I—”

The room around them finished the countdown. “…three….two….one….happy new year!”

Cheers filled the room as streamers, balloons, and confetti poured down from the ceiling.

It was New Year’s at the stroke of midnight. He was standing in a nightclub in Monaco with the woman who bedeviled him and haunted his dreams. If that wasn’t a sign, he didn’t know what was.

He jerked her body into his and crashed his lips against hers. Her body stiffened in surprise and for half a second he was sure she would pull away, maybe even slap him for his audacity.

Then she leaned into it, melting against him. She arched upwards as she returned the kiss.

Ardently.

Her fingers tangled in his hair and pressed into the back of his neck as her tongue curled around his, slowly at first, then with more urgency as her body responded to his, matching his heat with her own.

The crowd disappeared as they lost themselves in each other, desperately clinging to a moment that might never happen again.

A shrill voice intruded. “Riley! Riley!”

She pulled away from him in bemusement, lips swollen, face flushed, confetti clinging to her hair, blinking as if awakening from a dream. “That’s my sister….”

“Yeah, sorry. You should go.” He forced himself to release her and reluctantly took a step back.

“I don’t want to…”

“Riley—” He took a step toward her, reaching a hand out toward her face.

A blond, drunk version of Riley stumbled between them, giggling, “There you are! I need you to — Oh! Who is this?”

Riley gave Drake an apologetic shake of her head as she tried to introduce him. “Drake, this is my sister, Amelia. Mellie, this is Drake, he—”

“Ooh, you’re very cute!” the blond purred up at him. “Is he another stripper? Tell me he’s a stripper!”

Mortification poured through her. “He is not a stripper, he’s a coworker and you’re drunk. Stop it!”

“Damn.” Amelia continued to eye him up and down. “You could be a stripper if you wanted to.”

Drake grinned at her. “Thanks.”

Riley took her sister firmly by the arm and pulled her away from him. “You’re engaged! Leave him alone!”

Something in Riley’s tone filtered through Amelia’s alcohol-induced fog. Her gaze shifted from Drake to take in her sibling’s expression. “Sorry, didn’t realize this is the one you liked.”

Drake’s eyes snapped to Riley’s face. “Wait. What?”

“Don’t listen to her. She’s drunk! I should get her back to her party, then up to our room.”

“Okay.” He watched as Riley drug Amelia back toward the VIP area. “Hey, Riley?”

She turned her head. “Yeah?”

“Happy New Year.”

That smile that took his breath away broke out across her face. “Happy New Year, Drake. See you at work.”

“Yep.” He turned on his heel with a smile of his own as he murmured to himself, “I’m counting on it.”

[fictionadventurer]

Reasons to read The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion by Beth Brower

They're written in the style of the great light classic novels. The promo material says people have compared them to Austen, L.M. Montgomery and Jean Webster, and they're right, though the strongest comparisons I see are Oscar Wilde, P.G. Wodehouse, and Georgette Heyer.

They're (as the title indicates) presented as a series of journals by Emma M. Lion, a twenty(?) year old orphan who has recently come to live at Lapis Lazuli House in the quirky London neighborhood of St. Crispian's where she meets all kinds of colorful characters and gets into wild scrapes.

So far, there are six books in the series, with a seventh on the way, and a plan to have lots and lots more. Each book covers two months and kind of reads like episodes of a television show or an ongoing serial.

And that's basically all I knew before starting, and part of the joy of this series is uncovering the surprises along the way, so if you don't want to read any further, that's okay, but I'm still going to talk about more details under the cut.

More Plot Details

Lapis Lazuli House is technically Emma's, because it's been willed to her, along with a living that should allow her to live at a modest but respectable level of comfort. Unfortunately, she hasn't reached her majority yet, and for now, the house comes with a horrid Cousin Archibald who resents Emma after the incident that gave him The Scar, so he forces her to live in a garret bedroom and refuses to provide her allowance. Emma's money troubles have a lot of twists and turns that lead to lots of different adventures that I won't spoil here.

Emma has an ongoing quest to build up her personal library. She had to sell off her father's books to pay for her education, and she can't use libraries because she wants to scribble in her books, so getting books is VERY important. (As all the best people understand). She's constantly engaging with different books, and adding books to her library provides some of the best moments of the series. (Each volume ends with a list of the books Emma now owns).

Those are the biggest (and least spoilery) overarching plot points of the series, but the true draw is Emma's interaction with

The Characters

Emma interacts with a sprawling cast of oddballs, including:

Cousin Archibald, previously mentioned Horrid Person, obsessed with clothes and with assuming Emma is the Personification of All Evil

Arabella, her beautiful, wealthy cousin who is expected to make a good match in The Season

Aunt Eugenia, her wealthy aunt who talks exactly like Wilde's Lady Bracknell, and who recruits Emma to attend high society social events as The Foil to make Arabella look good in comparison

Mary, a School Chum who makes a living as a typist

Jack, the con man Mary has hired to pretend to be her cousin so she can get free time away from her strict "respectable" boarding house

Young Hawkes, the handsome, fashionable, mysterious vicar who spends half his sermons reading poetry

The Redoubtable Ten, a group of Hawkes' rowdy Cambridge buddies (Hawkes is technically the tenth) who heckle him during most of his sermons and admire Emma for getting into scrapes even wilder than their own

The Tenant, also known as Niall Pierce, who rents the garret on the other side of Emma's bedroom wall. They pass notes through a crack in the wall and share a cat. He has a mysterious past, which includes years living in America even though he is Not An American.

The Duke of Islington, St. Crispian's only resident nobleman, who is Very Proper and Disapproves of Emma's wilder scrapes, but who secretly has a very poetic soul

Roland Sutherland, Emma's childhood nemesis who has grown up into a handsome, charming, and wealthy Sun God

Saffronia March, a thirty-something spinster artist who knew Emma's parents and brings Emma in contact with the art world

Mrs. Penury, the wife of Emma's banker, who hasn't spoken for ten years because she decided she had said everything she wanted to say

The other draw of the series is

St. Crispian's

A quirky London neighborhood with many oddball traditions and magical-realism happenings.

There's an ancient Roman ghost that the inhabitants are very fond of.

A yearly tradition of a highly-competitive scavenger hunt to score tickets to the local production of Julius Caesar.

A phenomenon where items go "wandering" from houses, only to be found in random places in the neighborhood (and a local cafe where people can bring found items to be picked up).

Among many others

All these oddities are presented as a normal part of life, no matter how strange outsiders might find them. Though, be warned, St. Crispian's is very fond of its traditions, and its odd rules can cause problems.

Other Thoughts

This series strings you along with book after book of Witty Banter and Silly Misadventures, until suddenly it sucker-punches you with moments of Sadness and Deep Emotions

These characters, even when they're comic archetypes, have deeper layers of complexity and history.

Emma's friendships, especially with the men of her neighborhood, develop into really strong bonds.

There are threads of romance, but they're overshadowed by the platonic relationships.

They take place in what's supposed to be 1883, and take advantage of some actual historical events, but it mostly feels like a light history-flavored fantasy because people don't really act much like historical people. Like, the amount of time that Emma spends alone in the company of unmarried men late at night is scandalous. But it's okay, because you don't expect realism here any more than you expect realism from P.G. Wodehouse.

Aside from some mild cursing from one character (and the stuff in the next bullet point) there's literally no objectionable content in this series.

The series has a really weird relationship with spirituality. Characters are technically Christian, but they take it casually and don't seem to know much about their faith. Hawkes is the Worst Vicar Ever who doesn't give any actual Christian advice (I'm still waiting for a reveal that he's not a real vicar). The magical realism parts are taken more seriously than actual religion. Yet there are some parts that do interact with actual Christian ideas. I'm not crazy about it, which you'd think would be a reason not to recommend it, but I don't think it overrides the good parts of the series, and I need to discuss it with someone, because it's an issue with a lot to explore.

These are some of my favorite books I've read this year, with several of my favorite characters and moments, and I need to have someone to talk to about them.

[pjsk-story-summaries]

SEKAI Happy New Year! Event Story Summary

TL;DR: Miku thanks you for looking after everyone this past year and asks for your continued support. You go with her to check on everyone's New Year celebrations. Nightcord at 25:00 holds a party in SEKAI, MORE MORE JUMP! played traditional games with Miku and Rin, Vivid BAD SQUAD has a Hanetsuki doubles tournament, Wonderlands x Showtime has to save Tsukasa from being chased by a malfunctioning Lion Dance Robot, and Leo/need have a sleepover at Ichika's before going to a shrine.

Fan translation playlist (Caramel Subs, HLYF, eiyuuou, Arvon Oven) / Official English YouTube Upload

Chapter 1: The Miku from Between SEKAI wishes the player a happy New Years. She thanks you for watching over everyone and asks you to keep watching over them.

Chapter 2: Nightcord at 25:00 finishes up a call. Before they leave, Amia tries asking them to hang out, but everyone is either too cold or busy. They're sad, since they couldn't get tickets to their concert event and their parents are visiting their sister overseas. The next day they overhear some friends talking about having a New Years Eve party. Mizuki decides to try and have one with their circle.

Chapter 3: Amia manages to convince everyone by having it in SEKAI. Their arrival also cheers up Miku, who was beginning to feel lonely. Mizuki, Ena, and Kanade all brought snacks while Mafuyu brought plates. Neither Kanade or Miku have ever done something like this, so they're excited. Mizuki leads the group for the New Year countdown. Miku hopes everyone has a wonderful year.

Chapter 4: Miku and Rin finish their New Years show the moment the clock hits zero. MORE MORE JUMP! thanks the two for everything they've done so far, and asks for their continued support. Minori asks if the two would be willing to help them practice making a New Years video of them playing card games. Miku and Minori play Karuta (a traditional card game based on poetry and quick reflexes) against Airi and Rin. Haruka acts as the reader.

Chapter 5: Airi is very skilled at the game and wins easily. Next, Shizuku plays Fukuwari (a game like Pin the Donkey, where a blindfolded person pins together the features on a face). The final result was described as "abstract" and "bold". Even though the filming didn't go quite as planned, it was still a great video in the end. They're excited to film the real thing later. Since everyone was having so much fun, the group decided to keep playing games.

Chapter 6: MEIKO has the other Virtual Singers try out her special New Years menu. Rin and Len want to try everything. Vivid BAD SQUAD arrives soon after. An suggests playing a game of Hanetsuki (like badminton without a net) to work off the calories from MEIKO's food. Rin and Len face off against An and Kohane, with the winners getting to doodle on the loser's faces in place of the traditional ink-to-the-face punishment. Akito and Toya decide to watch. An wins the first round, so she gets to doodle on Rin and Len. Rin and Len score the next one.

Chapter 7: Rin and Len eventually won the match. Miku manages to convince Akito and Toya to play the next round. Rin and Len managed to win by a single point. After MEIKO finished bringing out drinks, Miku managed to convince her to be her doubles partner for the next game. They crushed Rin and Len. They decide to end the day by singing together.

Chapter 8: A rouge Lion Dance Robot chases Tsukasa around the SEKAI. Everyone has to work together to save him. Earlier, Emu and Miku had been making mochi while Tsukasa, KAITO, and Rui discussed the latter's latest AI creation, which had taken a liking to Tsukasa. However, Emu's grip on the mallet slipped and hit Lion Dance Robot.

Chapter 9: Rui theorizes the mallet triggered the self-defense mode and has determined Tsukasa to be a threat. Miku pulls out the giant net from the previous day's show in order to try capturing the robot. Emu managed to lure the robot away from Tsukasa and towards herself. Nene used Rui's drones to drop the net on it, while the Virtual Singers held it down for Rui to deactivate. Everyone moves on immediately after to go make more mochi (except Tsukasa, who did not have fun with that adventure).

Chapter 10: Leo/need finish their last rehearsal of the year. Ichika asks if everyone would want to come to a sleepover at her house so they can all hang out for the New Year. Saki wants to go visit a shrine together, too. Luka says she and Miku will join too, as a surprise.

On the day of the sleepover, Ichika and Honami prepare food while Saki and Shiho play cards. Right before midnight, Luka and Miku come check in through the girl's phones. They all leave for the shrine together.

Chapter 11: While waiting in line, they all decide what to wish for. After they throw in their coins, they explore the stalls set up nearby. Shiho offers to take food back to the Virtual Singers if they'd like. Honami and Shiho offer to pull fortunes for the two as well. Honami pulls for Luka, but ends up drawing a curse. She decides to take it as her own and pulls again, but gets another curse. Saki and Ichika return with amakaze, only to find Honami in despair over the bad luck. On the way home, Saki asks what they all wished for. They all ended up wishing for some variation of having a fun year together.

[trilliansthoughts]

Imbolc

Imbolc is celebrated from February 1st until sundown on February 2nd and signifies the beginning of spring in the Celtic calendar. Imbolc marks the halfway point between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox and is one of several Pagan festivals that highlight some aspect of winter and sunlight to herald the change of seasons.

The celebration of Imbolc dates to pre-Christian times and the earliest mentions in Irish literature are found in the 10th century. Poetry from that time connects the holiday to ewe’s milk, with the implication of purification. As this ritual stems from the breeding cycle of sheep and the beginning of lactation, Imbolc traditionally aligned with the first day of spring and the idea of rebirth. The most common explanation for the etymology of Imbolc is from the Old Irish i mbolc meaning 'in the belly' and refers to pregnant ewes at this time of year.

In Neolithic times, Imbolc celebrations honoured the Pagan goddess Brigid, who was invoked in fertility rites and was also the goddess of poetry, crafts, and healing. Brigid was worshipped by the Filidh, the Celtic poets and historians of ancient Ireland. Brigid is one of the most powerful Celtic gods and is the daughter of the Dagda, the oldest god in the Celtic pantheon of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Modern-day Pagans set up an Imbolc altar to celebrate Brigid with a corn husk doll, white flowers, a bowl of milk, and candles. A group gathering casts a circle and recites invocations to receive a blessing from Brigid.

Brigid was said to visit homes on the eve of the Imbolc festival. To receive her blessings, an effigy of the goddess was crafted from rushes and oats, clad in pieces of cloth and flowers, and put in a basket overnight, with gifts of food and drink. Brigid was evoked to protect homes and livestock and items of clothing were left outside for her to bless. On Imbolc, the effigy of Brigid, known as a Brídeóg or Biddy, was paraded around the community by girls and young women. Sometimes, a young girl took on the role of Brigid and went from house to house wearing a crown, and carrying a shield, both made from rushes.

Over the centuries, Brigid was adopted by Christianity as Saint Brigid to become one of Ireland’s three patron saints along with Saint Patrick and Saint Colmcille. Saint Brigid is said to have lived in the 6th century and founded the important monastery of Kildare. While there are many stories about her, there are few historical facts. In the 12th century, legend holds that the nuns in Kildare attended to a fire built in Saint Brigid’s honour. The fire had burned for 500 years and produced no ash, and only women were allowed in proximity of the fire.

Imbolc rituals still include burning lamps and lighting bonfires in tribute to Brigid, who is associated with both milk and fire. Although there is some debate that Saint Brigid was a separate historical figure who shares the same name as the Celtic goddess, many scholars maintain that they are the same person with the later saint based on the earlier Pagan deity. As with many Pagan traditions and festivals, the names and dates were often adopted by Christianity to make the new faith more acceptable.

Imbolc is also believed to be when the Cailleach, the divine hag of Gaelic tradition, gathers firewood for the rest of winter. If she wishes to make the winter last longer, the weather on Imbolc is bright and sunny, so she can gather plenty of firewood. However, if Imbolc is a day of bad weather, it means the Cailleach is asleep, and winter is almost over.

On February 1st, people display a Brigid’s cross woven from rushes gathered by rivers and ponds. Traditionally, the cross is set over doorways and windows to welcome Brigid and protect the home from any kind of harm. Brigid’s Day parades and “Biddy’s Day” festivals are still held in some towns around Ireland, and it is also traditional to visit a holy well, praying for good health while walking clockwise around the well.  

[vampire-sugar]

THE QUEEN OF THE DAMNED (1988)

Finally finished Part I! Here are some of my pretty unorganized thoughts.

(Spoilers ahead) (tw mention of incest)

PART I: THE ROAD TO THE VAMPIRE LESTAT

A lot going on. It was actually hard to keep going at some point, a lot of exposition and it was frankly very boring at times. The entire Baby Jenks chapter could have been skipped. The biggest thing I’ve taken away from Part I is Anne’s obsession with red hair. Anyway, here are some of the things I liked!

Truly unhinged intro from Lestat where he literally says, “hey remember me?? left you on a cliffhanger there!! also let’s switch to third person bc the story just flows better that way.”

Marius trapped under the ice where he belongs.

Pandora chapter was like a fever dream. And also damn you eat like that?? Literally ripping hearts out, but lowkey that’s such a goddess move.

Got to the famous Devil’s Minion chapter!! I was really excited for this one.

It was very sweet actually. Armand is a terror, but his intensity is what I love about him. Loved him since the iwtv book, what a character. Him finally turning Daniel, that whole scene was heartbreaking. Also what does Armand need 8 phones for? Love how they kept his love for tech in the show lol he’s always on that iPad.

Finally introduced to the Talamasca. I assumed from what I occasionally saw online that they were this like all powerful group that had like a one-up on the paranormal creatures that they investigate (or like some sort of council for anything supernatural), but I was kinda let down when finding out they are humans with just a little bit of psychic powers. But I’m pretty sure I don’t know the full story yet.

Also it’s cute that Anne starts every chapter with her husband’s poetry. Though they’re not all my cup of tea, I liked the one at the beginning of the Jesse chapter.

I like Jesse! This chapter reminded me a lot of the Mortal Instruments actually lol, both Clary and Jesse join a supernatural related order and are unknowingly related to supernatural beings (and both have red hair lol). I like that Mael makes a reappearance, he was the only part I liked about Marius’s backstory from TVL. Also, Anne Rice try writing a close familial relationship without making it weirdly incestuous challenge impossible. Maharet’s attitude towards Jesse made me wildly uncomfortable.

The part where Jesse goes to New Orleans was true horror. I was shaking in my bed sheets reading it, seriously. Claudia haunting the New Orleans townhouse, my poor baby. Hope that more of the diary gets revealed in this book.

And that’s about it!

For such a long part that’s honestly all I’ve got to say. I’m glad to finally be done with it tbh and we can finally get to the present day. I learned from Jacob’s podcast appearance that Anne did not have an editor which explains a lot lol. I fear for what is awaiting me.

Predictions: I had thought that Maharet was actually Pandora, but then read back and saw that Pandora has brown hair so I guess not. If a character has red hair Anne will let you know multiple times. Which is why I feel like Armand might be part of the Great Family. Or maybe his red hair is garden variety type, idk.

I will probably post chapter by chapter going forward! Or however I please I guess lol. Excited to start Part II: All Hallow’s Eve!!

Bonus: Lestat calling himself the James Bond of vampires, he’s got jokes.

[bcolfanfic]

would love to know more about teen ollie and when he makes his way back to jamie and benny. is this the final straw for jamie and alyssa’s relationship or are they still in contact

there’s his teen/young adult pinterest board <3

- something rachel and i wrote in DMs forever ago that i liked so much i think i’ll make canon is that he ‘came back’ via meeting sawyer at school. was in a group home a little further upstate in the same school district.

- alyssa and jamie stopped talking frequently after she got him back. half because of the drama surrounding her almost not getting him back half because alyssa kinda went ghost on him. never went no contact fully but almost every conversation she ever had with him after she got ollie back was an argument.

- let him and benny see him again maybe twice and then never again. acted like she couldn’t let him see ollie again because well i don’t know jamie what if you takeee him. i don’t trust you anymore. ):<

- anyways he’s a bit older than sawyer but got held back once so they aren’t too far away grade wise. meet and become friends at school. and sawyer has *always* struggled to make friends so ev and helen are so excited. glad their sawyer has someone watching out for him at school etc etc.

- both of them met ollie when he was little but he was 3 years old and they only saw him a handful of times so the pieces don’t click for any of them. outside of ev and helen thinking his name is familiar (lmao you guys are so close!!)

- but it *does* become clear that ollie does not have a good home life. is in and out of his mom’s custody and has been in multiple foster/group homes between being back with her. and because he’s such a sweet kid who is good to sawyer, ev and helen have no problem letting him spend a lot of time at their house.

- then one day he’s over there and ev has one of those digital picture frame things and. world fucking stop when ollie walks by it while it’s on a photo of ev with his uncle jamie that he hasn’t seen since he was 3 years old <\3

- and who he was fed a looot of lies about. never tried to reach out on his own because as far as he was told/lied to about everything by alyssa they wanted nothing to do with him.

- freaks out and is panicking asking sawyer how they know him and digging in his backpack for *one* physical photo he had of himself with jamie and benny when he was 3 that he held onto for all those years.

- and then sawyer’s freaking out and gets ev who starts freaking out and yeah lmao it’s quite the fuckin chaotic night.

- but godddd. when jamie gets that call from ev. gets hysterical fast, tears and hyperventilating and all. ev ends up having to explain to benny too because jamie. can’t talk.

- everyoneeee in ev’s living room cries a little when ollie sees the two of them for the time in at that point 13+ years. jamie and benny never forgot about him for a second. always hoped he’d call or something when he was old enough to contact them on his own. always hoped he’d be okay and find his way to them when he could.

- and yeah jamie never talks to his sister again when the dust settles and ollie is with them for good. is so angry he can’t see straight that she let him bounce around the system instead of allowing him to come back to them. doesn’t forgive her for that and benny is on his side there.

[sweetdreamsjeff]

The Rebel: Patti Smith

--I bring Tim Buckley's unreleased demo of the old folk tune ‘Wayfaring Stranger’ for Patti, and she talks about how the singer/songwriter was a favourite of Robert Mapplethorpe’s back in the early Brooklyn days, and chuckles when she recalls how she and her first partner in artistic crime would neck like high school kids to the Goodbye And Hello album. She was delighted when Jeff Buckley stopped by the recording sessions and added a high, ghostly vocal part to ‘Beneath The Southern Cross’, and even more delighted when he raced home and returned to the studio with an essrage, an Egyptian instrument he used to texture the track ‘Fireflies’.--

---

Ben Edmonds, MOJO, August 1996

To R.E.M.’s Michael Stipe, she is "one of the premier artists of my lifetime – I’ve blindly stolen from her for years." To Bob Dylan, she is "still the best, you know." She is one of rock ‘n’ roll’s true originals, and on her return to the fray after eight years of joy and tragedy lived out of the public eye, Patti Smith grants Ben Edmonds the most revealing interview of her career.

PATTI SMITH IS IN FULL SWAGGER, WORKING THE ROXY Theatre stage in LA with relaxed authority. She takes the stage alone, wearing a shapeless warm-up jacket with hood tightly framing her face, to deliver a fiery reading of ‘Piss Factory’. With each succeeding song she adds band members until her musical complement is complete. Left-hand man Lenny Kaye and drummer Jay Dee Daugherty are Patti Smith Group confederates, while bassist Tony Shanahan has played with Kaye and John Cale (and backed Patti on some solo dates last autumn). This core trio is augmented by Patti’s 23-year-old poetry protege Oliver Ray on rhythm guitar and — seated stage left behind impenetrable shades and cradling his guitar like some old CBGB's bluesman — Tom Verlaine.

Smith has a couple of wild cards up her sleeve as well. She introduces Bob Neuwirth as "the person who encouraged me to sing and gave me my first start," after the legendary personage – Bob Dylan road companion, Jim Morrison babysitter, painter, filmmaker, composer of ‘Mercedes Benz’ for Janis Joplin – has sung a typically wonderful song called ‘I Don't Think Of Her’. "Bobby has a new CD out [Look Up on Watermelon Records] on which I appear," Patti announces. "It's available almost nowhere."

Her son Jackson, 13, appears plugged in and joins the troupe for a romp through – are you ready? – ‘Smoke On The Water’. Jack and guitar stand nose to nose with the amp, noodling noisily as Lenny Kaye sings Deep Purple's stirring lament for the tragic death by fire of recording equipment. Mom makes the most of her vocal cameo, belting out "Fire in the sky-eee" in the most godawful screech you've ever heard. It's a small glimpse of what the future might have held had Patti chosen to become the singer of Blue Oyster Cult (for whom she wrote songs) instead of setting off on her crusade to save the soul of rock'n'roll with The Patti Smith Group.

The band has a homemade, slightly ragtag quality that reminds this audience member of nothing so much as the earliest Patti Smith Group when it consisted of Patti, Lenny and Richard Sohl. That trio "toured" California in 1974 to "promote" ‘Piss Factory’, and you felt like you were watching something invent itself right before your eves. This mini "tour" follows almost exactly the same path, and once again you feel like you're watching something in the exhilarating process of becoming.

They attack a fair number of familiar songs – ‘Ghost Dance’, ‘Rock'N'Roll Nigger’, ‘Dancing Barefoot’ (although, curiously, nothing from Dream Of Life) – with gusto. The 10 shows opening for Bob Dylan last winter seem to have jump-started this aggregation's chemistry, and they're now also capable of moments of transcendence that rival anything Patti's bands have attained in the past. ‘About A Boy’, her meditation on the loss of Kurt Cobain, has grown from humble acoustic beginnings into an oceanic noisefield than tonight is staggering. And their ‘Wicked Messenger’ ranks with the great rock rearrangements of Dylan songs. It's a treat that such a thing remains possible in 1996.

The small acoustic shows and guest spots she's done sporadically over the past year have been tentative in tone and occasionally awkward. She is not – nor does she have the slightest inclination to be – the punk tornado who ripped through this room 20 years ago, when the Roxy was LA's premier showcase club, hosting legendary engagements by Neil Young, Bruce Springsteen and Bob Marley, and live recordings by Frank Zappa, Talking Heads, Warren Zevon and others. But she has certainly regained every bit of the belief that the space is hers to command.

The sold-out house is evenly divided between the older soldiers who served in the rock revolution Patti Smith heralded in the early '70s and those who wish they could have been there, having heard their own heroes like Michael Stipe say that were it not for Patti Smith he wouldn't exist. The R.E.M. singer has been all over MTV News this week, quoted as saying that Patti's show at the Wiltern Theatre a few days earlier had been not simply the greatest concert he'd ever seen, but one of the greatest emotional experiences of his life. *

THE PATTI SMITH RESUME: ARRIVED IN NEW YORK FROM New Jersey in 1967 and wrote herself a new identity in concert with photographer Robert Mapplethorpe; wrote plays like Cowboy Mouth with Pulitzer Prize winner Sam Shepard one line at a time, pushing a battered typewriter back and forth across a Chelsea Hotel tabletop in a game of attitude chess; published small press volumes of hallucinogenic verse inhabited by James Joyce, Johnny Ace, Jesus Christ, Harry Houdini, Joan of Arc, James Brown, Georgia O'Keefe, the Paragons and the Jesters, Picasso and Rimbaud and Bob Dylan's dog; wrote poems, profiles and record review reveries for Creem and Rolling Stone; put her big ideas into embryonic practice at her Rock'N'Rimbaud readings accompanied by guitarist Lenny Kaye at St Mark's Church, New York's new poetry nirvana; released ‘Piss Factory’ b/w ‘Hey Joe’ in 1974 on their own Mer Records, now regarded as one of the first shots fired in the punk/indie revolt (though at the time it was a shot barely heard in the next block); released in 1975 a debut album Horses, a parable in spoken word and song for the declaration of self that adolescents itchy to slip their skins will probably respond to for generations to come; sounded a clarion call with her amped-to-the-teeth Patti Smith Group that has been answered only in part by punk rockers, alterna-nerds and riot grrrls; fell from a Tampa, Florida stage in 1977 to a concrete floor 14 feet below, breaking her neck; came out of traction and back into action with ‘Because The Night’, a hit single co-written with Bruce Springsteen, yet always gave equal time to noisy improvisational epics like ‘Radio Ethiopia’ that were unplayable on any radio format (and guaranteed to scare the living piss out of anyone attracted by her Brucie ballad); announced her retirement from public life in the shadow of her biggest-selling album (Wave); and immediately following her biggest concert ever (85,000 in an Italian football stadium on September 10, 1979) quietly married former MC5 guitarist Fred 'Sonic' Smith in 1980, and moved to an unassuming Detroit suburb to raise a family. In the next decade she raised her head above the parapet only once, with her 1988 album Dream Of Life.

Since 1990, Patti has suffered the loss of four of her closest comrades. Her best friend Robert Mapplethorpe was claimed by AIDS. Her piano player (and, after Lenny Kaye, longest-serving musical ally) Richard Sohl succumbed to heart failure. Then in late '94 her husband, soulmate, and hero of so many of her best songs (‘Because The Night’, ‘Frederick’, ‘Dream Of Life’), Fred 'Sonic' Smith, suddenly passed away, a shock compounded by the death of her brother and crew manager Todd Smith only a month later.

The release of a new album, Gone Again, and a limited return to live performance is part of a plan she and Fred had mapped out before his untimely passing. Yet there's no denying that these activities have now become, at least in part, a memorial to all her fallen comrades. This mission was launched in earnest last December when, at the personal invitation of Bob Dylan, she opened 10 of his shows on the East Coast, a pairing he dubbed The Paradise Lost Tour.

"A lot of girls have come along since Patti started," Dylan told a Boston audience the first of many times they duetted on his song ‘Dark Eyes’. "But Patti's still the best, you know." Then he kissed her. *

DRIVING TO PATTI'S HOUSE, I WAS THINKING ABOUT something she had told me recently. The subject was her desire to play only those places where she'd been treated well. I wondered, then, what places this might disqualify.

"Detroit," she said without hesitation. "They've never been that supportive of our work. I don't think Fred got the support from the music community that he was entitled to. The radio stations knew who he was and what he'd done, and they should've tipped their hat to him. I guess I feel somewhat bitter about that. Not for me. I don't care; but it hurt Fred deeply."

Patti will soon be moving back to New York. This move is not unexpected. Detroit was where she came to make her life with Fred. It was his town, his family, his roots, and there's probably no place she can turn here and not be confronted by a reminder of her late husband.

This has got to be especially true of their home, which they bought, furnished, and within which they created a family. Patti and Fred even saved it together, sandbagging the place when torrential rains and a rising lake very nearly flooded them out. Because the family was so reclusive, all sorts of rumours circulated about their domestic refuge. One had them living in a sumptuous lakefront estate, another pictured them in utter sub urban tract home anonymity. Neither turns out to be accurate.

They're not on the lake, though they could most certainly see it if there weren't so many other houses in the way. They live in a normal middle-class neighbourhood where many of the smallish homes sport obvious additions to accommodate expanding families, resulting in houses that are a little too big for their modest plots but never quite big enough to contain all the kids' stuff which litters the porches and short driveways. Yet there's no doubting which is the Smith residence. It's easy to spot, being the only castle on the block. A small castle, to be sure, really no bigger than most of the surrounding homes, but a towered and turreted castle all the same.

Seen from the insight, the tower contains the winding staircase that leads to the upper floor. The house is sparsely though comfortably furnished, in casual boho. The usual family stuff is posted on the fridge and scattered about; handmade birthday and Mother's Day cards, postcards, school meeting notices. If it weren't for the guitars and amplifiers in the living room, you'd never know this was the lair of musicians. Where you might expect to find a portrait of some revered family elder hangs a picture of honorary uncle Allen Ginsberg.

Once past the idea of amps in the living room, the closest we get to rock'n'roll excess is an extravagant selection of teas. Oliver Ray brews some camomile for Patti, whose stomach is acting up.

At 48, Patti Smith's hair is unashamedly lashed with gray and worn in simple braids. Her interview demeanour is pretty much as it's always been. She considers each query carefully and answers at length, not looking at her interviewer but staring at some private point beyond the opposite wall, a safe place she always returns to. Though Patti is never at a loss for a forcefully expressed thought or opinion, whenever the conversation touches on her late husband – which is frequently – her voice falters and she has to bear down hard on her words to get them out.

I bring Tim Buckley's unreleased demo of the old folk tune ‘Wayfaring Stranger’ for Patti, and she talks about how the singer/songwriter was a favourite of Robert Mapplethorpe’s back in the early Brooklyn days, and chuckles when she recalls how she and her first partner in artistic crime would neck like high school kids to the Goodbye And Hello album. She was delighted when Jeff Buckley stopped by the recording sessions and added a high, ghostly vocal part to ‘Beneath The Southern Cross’, and even more delighted when he raced home and returned to the studio with an essrage, an Egyptian instrument he used to texture the track ‘Fireflies’.

You find yourself wanting to somehow crack the fog and get her to smile. During the second of our two interviews, conducted at her Michigan home, it is her eight-year-old daughter who unintentionally provides the cue. Patti is expounding on the divine bliss of parenthood when Jesse, who's been yakking to a friend in the other room, suddenly calls out, "Mommy, can I have a cellular phone?"

"No," Patti immediately shoots back, rolling her eyes at the cosmic timing of this interruption, and then dissolving into the best laugh I'd heard from her in a very long time.

In the words of one of those Irish poets, "the healing has begun." *

This album is unique for you in that it has so many solo songwriting credits.

Fred was giving me guitar lessons. He had taught me some chords, basically so I could write songs. We studied song structure and things I didn't know a whole lot about. He taught me enough on the guitar that, after a lot of practice, I could write simple songs. When he passed away...I just…um… I used to spend a lot of time by myself at night with the acoustic guitar just making up little songs. A lot of the songs on the record – ‘Farewell Reel’, ‘About A Boy’, ‘Raven’, ‘Dead To The World’, ‘Wing’ – were written that way late at night. They're all in waltz-time, 3/4, which is the only time signature we worked on so it's the only one I know.

The version of ‘About A Boy’ you played at the Roxy is already far beyond the album version.

That song has really grown in performance. It's the closest thing to anarchy – controlled anarchy – that we have right now, because we let the song completely open up at the end. I always like having a piece where everyone goes out but then returns. That was the beauty of John Coltrane, and what separated him from the noisemakers and indulgent jerk-offs. He would go out there and stay out there as long as he could, but he always returned. That's what we strive for.

When Kurt Cobain took his life, Fred and I were extremely disturbed about that. Both of us liked his work. We thought it was good for young people. I was happy that there was a new band I could relate to, and looked forward to watching them grow. He had a future. As parents, we were deeply disturbed to see this young boy take his own life. The waste, and the emotional debris he left for others to clean up.

I was also concerned how it would affect young people who looked up to him, or looked to him for answers. I guess that's the danger of looking to anyone else for answers, but I perceived that he had a responsibility. To himself, to the origin of his gifts, to his family, to the younger generation.

So I wrote the song for two reasons. One was as a well wish, even after what he did, that his continuing journey be beautiful. But it was also written with a certain amount of bitterness. The chorus says "About a boy/beyond it all." One way of looking at it is that he's beyond this particular plane of existence. But it's also a wry statement, a frustrated refrain. It relates to my sorrow for the various boys we've lost. Whether it be Jim Morrison or Brian Jones; any of these young, gifted, driven people who do feel they're beyond it all, that they can completely ravage and ruin their bodies or have no sense of responsibility to their position and their gifts. We all were pioneering some kind of freedom, but I don't think what's been done with it is all that constructive.

When you were that age how did you deal with those feelings?

All young people feel sometimes that they can't take it, that they'd rather die than get up out of bed. But there was always something that reminded me, it could be anything. The handiwork of man. I could be feeling totally desolate and then look at a beautiful prayer rug or a Picasso, and that would be enough to make me want to live. That's what other people's work did for me. When I say that The Rolling Stones got me through this, or Bob Dylan got me through that, they did. That in itself is a motivation for working. The act of creation is a beautiful thing. That belongs to the artist; he's got that moment of illumination, when a kernel of an idea erupts and blooms. But after he creates it, it ceases to be his. It's really for other people.

What brought you back to New York to record?

I love Electric Lady, which is where we cut Horses; it's intimate but highly developed. It's right on 8th Street, so you can walk out at three in the morning and there are people on the streets. It's a good energy. I don't require privacy and silence when I'm recording. It's the first recording studio I was ever in. The first time I ever went there was also the first rock'n'roll party I'd ever been to. Jane Friedman invited me to this party for Jimi Hendrix because he'd just opened the studio up. I was so excited because I'd never been in a recording studio before. But when I got there I was too nervous to go in, so I sat on the steps. Then Jimi came up the stairs. He was incredibly beautiful; tall, very... he was Jimi Hendrix, y'know? A great-looking man. But really shy. He came up the stairs and I was sitting there so he sat down next to me and just talked. He asked me why I wasn't going down and I told him I was too nervous. He said, "Me too, I'm too nervous to stay." Then he told me some of the things about the studio, and how he wanted to work on a more global kind of music. He said that he was going to London, but that when he came back he was gonna go up to Woodstock with new musicians and then bring them into Electric Lady to record. But of course he never came back from London... That was a great moment for me. So when Robert Mapplethorpe gave us money to do ‘Piss Factory’, even though it was not much money I had to go to Electric Lady.

The equipment has been updated, but it's got a lot of the same things – the late '60s psychedelic paintings and bad murals of Jimi Hendrix playing right-handed. It didn't really occur to me how cyclic it was until I was in the middle of it. I was standing by myself in the hallway looking at those murals, when I remembered standing in that same spot in 1975 and Robert Mapplethorpe taking a picture of me and John Cale. Lenny came out and stood next to me and said, "Amazing, isn't it?" It was like he could feel what I was feeling. The first time we were back in the studio, just hearing those Lenny guitar tones and Jay on the drums, it was so... from the subconscious. It triggered so many memories.

How was this one as a recording experience?

This album was both joyous and heartbreaking to do. We were 80 per cent done with the record and I had to stop. I couldn't take it any more because... I just really missed Fred. It was so difficult, and I was so emotionally depleted. So we stopped for a while. When we did that little mini-tour with Bob Dylan I was supposed to be finishing the record, but I still couldn't face it. But I got a lot of energy and positive feelings from the Dylan experience, and then we went in and completed the album. Those dates gave me my confidence back.

Do you know what made Bob reach out to you?

What I gleaned from Bob is that he felt it would be good for me to come back out, that he thought people should see me. I wouldn't presume to speak for him, but he has been so highly influential that he knows probably what it tasted like to be influential and then get shuffled around somewhere. I guess he felt I could use some encouragement.

We weren't prepared, but I wanted to do it so badly that we prepared ourselves practically on stage. I think we had about five hours of rehearsal. But all of us had pretty much played together, and we all pooled the things we could do. The first night was pretty shaky, but after that I felt like I was back in familiar territory. My mission on that small tour was to crack all the energy, crack the atmosphere and set the stage for him, to get the night as magic as possible, so that when he hit the stage – 'cos he hits a lot of them – that maybe it would feel a little more special. I think we did a pretty good job and I know that he was happy.

Had you been in touch with him over the years?

No, not really. I met him back in the '70s, before we even had a record deal. It was at the Other End on Bleecker Street in the Village. I was told he was in the audience, so I made a few obscure references that I knew the crowd wouldn't get, but would let him know that I knew he was there. It was kinda presumptuous, but that's the way I was then. I was thrilled that he was there, but I wasn't gonna let him know it. When he came backstage I was kinda snotty. "Any poets around here?" he said, so I said I wasn't into poetry anymore – Poetry sucks. Can you believe I said that? But he was very gracious, and even put his arm around me to have our picture taken. The next week it was in the Soho Weekly News, right on the cover, and seeing that was definitely one of my best moments ever. But it also made me kinda sad, 'cos I knew I hadn't treated him well and I felt like I'd kinda blown it, y'know?

A little while later, I was on 4th Street and I saw him walking toward me. I tried to shrink but he saw me anyway. And he was really nice. He pulled out that picture and said, "Who are these two people? Do you know them?" And he gave me this beautiful smile, just to let me know it was all right. So he's been incredibly generous and understanding toward me from the very beginning.

I've admired Bob Dylan since I was 15 years old; he's been an important part of my life for two-thirds of it now. So to have someone like that give you encouragement is... beyond words. [On the tour] we sang ‘Dark Eyes’ almost every night, and singing with him was just like being in heaven. I was so happy. I kept thinking…sometimes it made me think of Fred, because Fred really liked and admired Bob too. He often said that there were only two people that would be able to pull him out of his self-imposed retirement, Keith Richards and Bob Dylan. He'd say, "Now if Keith or Bob call and want me to play with 'em, I might have to come out." So how could I not answer the call? It was a great experience.

Do you still regard Bob with a fan's awe?

Meeting him again, I can't say I'm in awe of him. The way I relate to him at this point in my life is that he's a man that has a fine presence, a very noble presence. He's an extremely attractive man. When I talk to him I still feel sort of like a schoolgirl, but also like a friend and a colleague.

After Fred passed away, the record I most listened to for solace was Bob's album World Gone Wrong, which is all those great old blues and other songs from the trove of his knowledge. I listened to that almost continuously. Once again he helped me through a difficult time with his music. And then to have him reach out to me as a human being... I'll be forever grateful.

And this gave you the confidence to finish the record.

We'd pretty much recorded everything; most of the vocals on the record are the live vocals. It was just a question of pulling all the threads together and presenting the record. But I just... I just needed time to think about everything. We had pretty much everything cut except the title track ‘Gone Again’, which we did right before we came out here. That was Fred's last music and...um...I just wasn't able to...write the lyrics. And finally I…I marshalled my energies and did it. Lenny had a lot to do with making certain ‘Summer Cannibals’ and ‘Gone Again’ came to light. We had a lot of cassette tapes with Fred playing acoustic guitar or chanting or giving some direction...to me, 'cos he often made tapes like that so I could write lyrics. Lenny had to lovingly piece those songs together.

So many people haven't yet discovered Dream Of Life, which I think is your best album after Horses. People are going to be discovering that album for years.

I hope so, because it's the only real document we have of Fred's range, though it's still only a partial account. It's pretty much his album; I look at Dream Of Life as his gift to me. He wrote all the music, arranged everything, a lot of the song titles, the album title, the concept of the songs, especially ‘People Have The Power’, were all Fred's. I told him we should call it by both our names but he wouldn't. But he had promised me that on this album he would sing on it and we'd put both our names on it. So I was really looking forward... I thought this was going to be a great album because people would see his face, hear him sing, and he was getting interested in performing live again. But...ah...it didn't happen. Which has been the heartbreaking part of making this album for me.

There was one thing released under both your names: the atmospheric piece ‘It Takes Time’ that you did for the Wim Wenders film Until The End Of The World in 1990.

Thank you for remembering that one! I love to hear it, because Fred's reciting poetry. Again, that's almost entirely his piece. Not only did he write the music and some of the poetry, he actually dictated how he wanted me to read my parts. Oh yeah, we had some friction, some healthy friction, in the recording of that song. He was the suggester in the family. He was clearly the boss, although he liked to pretend that he wasn't...

How did you first meet him?

It was March 9, 1976, and we met in front of the radiator at that hot dog place, Lafayette Coney Island, in Detroit. The Sonic Rendezvous Band was opening for us, but I didn't know anything about him. Lenny introduced me to this guy. I heard that his name is Smith, and my name is Smith. We just looked at each other and I was completely taken by him. I had no idea who he was or anything about him until afterwards when Lenny told me. Lenny introduced me to him and said, "He's one of the great guitar players." I said, Perhaps you'll want to play with us tonight. And he said, "Maybe so." Then he left and I asked Lenny if he was really any good, and Lenny said, "The best". So I was playing with him that night, and I had a lot of bravado in those days. I didn't have respect for anybody. But I totally submitted to his reign. He came on the stage and started playing, and after a while I just set my guitar down and let it feed back. I just let him take over because I felt that I had met my match, that I had met the better man.

As I understand it, the original plan you'd developed with Fred called for you to begin re-emerging now anyway.

Yes. This would've happened. It was according to plan. A couple of years after Dream Of Life, Fred wanted us to go out with just a percussionist, Richard Sohl, him and I. It would have been more spoken art, more poetry with them doing interpretive things behind me. Fred really wanted to do that, but then Richard died suddenly. It really broke his heart, 'cos Fred was really close to Richard. So we withdrew from that idea.

Then, after a time he really felt it was time for me to walk back on stage. In his own way he had a somewhat competitive nature, and he was watching how the arena of female artists has really widened. The girls have done a great job. Now, I don't consider myself a female artist – I'm just an artist – but Fred had that bit of competitiveness. He wanted me to take a stand, I think. I actually was the one who was reticent. He felt it in me before I did.

We were gonna do pretty much what we're doing now: do a record, do dates in the summer, do things when we could. But he was... actually (her voice slows down)... looking forward to…that. So…

Are any of the songs from that period on this new album?

Two. I didn't do a lot of them, just because I couldn't. It was just too painful. Even doing those two... They're two rock songs. Fred really wanted me to do rock songs again. For all the knowledge and sophistication that Fred had acquired over the years as a musician, he always said there was always room for one more great rock song, and he never stopped trying to write it. It's just so happened to work out that the pivotal rock songs on the album are the two that Fred and I wrote together.

It's funny, but I really always wanted him to go back out. I would've been happy staying at home taking care of the kids. I really wanted the world to see him. I really loved his work, and I do regret that people didn't get to see his full range. But he was his own man, he did what he wanted. He wasn't a guy trapped in a family situation. He wanted a family deeply, and he committed himself to his family... to a fault, I think. He was a great father.

One of the main reasons that I'm able to feel no guilt, nothing but pride when I'm performing, is that I know he wanted me to do it. I never regretted my decision to stop performing. I spent the '80s studying and writing, and becoming a far more facile writer. I learned quite a bit about everything from sports to cooking, whatever I needed to learn at any given moment. And I really treasure those years. I didn't yearn for or regret the past. I didn't even think about it. I was too wrapped up in our present.

What I often did was to wake up early and write from five to seven or eight when the kids got up. I always allowed myself a time, and continued the work ethic that I had developed with Robert Mapplethorpe. No matter what was happening, even when we were sick, Robert and I always worked. Every day. It was sort of a pact we made, and I've kept to that.

I've learned that I don't need to smoke pot all night and then at three in the morning write my poem. I had to learn a whole different system of creation. If I have from five to seven to do my work, then that's when I'll do it. I've completely grasped the fact that it comes from within me, and I take it wherever I go. Whether I'm in a prison in French Guyana or in my laundry room. You don't have to be the victim of inspiration. I learned a lot of things from Fred...

The recent Mapplethorpe biography painted you as a prisoner of Fred's tyrannical whims.

Oh, please... I made a decision about the kind of life I wanted to live. I made it, and I have never even once – never! – regretted making it. I mean, I missed my friends, I missed the camaraderie of the band, I missed certain things. Even though sometimes it was difficult, to me it was a privilege to be with him. I only regret that he's gone. I don't regret nothing else.

It was a treat to see Bob Neuwirth at your Roxy show.

I met Bobby around 1969 at the Chelsea Hotel. I was still kinda hoping to be a painter at that time, but it was beginning to become clear to me that it wasn't my beat and so I was writing quite a bit. I was in the lobby of the Chelsea and I had a notebook. "Hey poet," I remember him saying. "Well, you look like a poet. Do you write like one?" Defiant, very challenging. I thought, Whoah, Bob Neuwirth! He was in Don't Look Back. That's his leg on the cover of Highway 61 Revisited! So I gave him my notebook, and he read it and actually thought about it. He took me under his wing. He was a bit older than me, and really like a brother. He was very kind to me, but tough too. He taught me a lot, and helped me start to develop some sense of myself as a writer. At the same time he introduced me to a world that I hadn't been privy to. He introduced me to all kinds of people – Janis Joplin, the Grateful Dead – and introduced me in a way that they treated me respectfully.

After that I met Sam Shepard and he was the same way. He really felt that I was a good writer. He encouraged me to the point of conceit, nearly. He really made me feel good about myself, and made it seem important that I keep writing. He and Bobby did a lot to instill in me not only the desire to keep writing, but they made me feel that I was a writer. That's an important step. I had always felt different from other people, a misfit and an alien, but I never really gleaned myself as being special. Other people seemed to pull it out of me, whether it was Robert Mapplethorpe, Sam Shepard or Bobby Neuwirth. I've been very lucky in my life to have people perceive something in me that I didn't always perceive in myself.

When I called your hotel in San Francisco, you were out and they told me that Todd Rundgren had come by with his kids to pick up yours. That seemed like another nice full circle.

Yes. He was very important to me in those early New York days too. I think it was Bobby Neuwirth who introduced me to Todd. And Todd had been so good to Jackson. He let Jack play this beautiful Gibson of his on stage, and then let him take it on the rest of the tour. Todd's another person who really encouraged me. Todd actually thought I had a future as a comedian. I did too.

You mean we almost had Patti Lee Smith in stand-up comedy?

I had that daydream for years. I used to pretend that I went on the Johnny Carson show. He really liked me, and then he got sick and asked me to take over the show until he got better. And I did so well that when Johnny retired he gave me his show. It was one of my favourite daydreams. I still make use of my Johnny Carson studies, as you've probably realised. All the sparring I do, being able to take what hecklers dish out and one-up them, is from years of studying Johnny.

I wasn't really a '60s person. I had lived a fairly sheltered life in South Jersey. I came to New York in 1967, but I lived with Robert Mapplethorpe in Brooklyn. I spent that time working to be an artist or supporting Robert, and I really didn't go through all those '60s changes. I wasn't really involved in the political scene. I was frightened by the '60s, really. The masses of people and all the assassinations and the drug culture and the war in Vietnam...I found all of this overwhelming.

The one positive thing is that I did get a sense of the collective, that there was some sort of unspoken unity thing happening. Even though I was chronologically the same age, I felt younger because I was a bit behind. So I observed it from a slightly different perspective. What I like about it was how it produced its own networking tools, whether publications like Crawdaddy, Creem and Rolling Stone, or underground radio. Number one, of course, was the music itself, which was something new. Generations before us went wild over Benny Goodman or Frank Sinatra, but they didn't necessarily say anything. But our music was in concert with who we were.

So I did learn some good lessons from the '60s. I looked at the best of it, and what I thought would happen is that the '70s would come along and be even better. But then what I saw was the people losing interest, becoming more self-oriented, and I was very concerned. I was sort of disappointed with my own people. I didn't like what I saw, and that inspired me to do the kind of work that I did.

I understand it was Lenny and your brother Todd who helped you through the desolate time after Fred passed away.

Between Lenny and my brother, they wouldn't let me get too deep down. The minute Fred passed away, my brother got on a plane and came out. He devoted the rest of his life – which only turned out to be one month – to getting me back on my feet. Todd was one of those workaholic types who work around the clock and never take vacations, but he left work immediately and came and stayed with me.

Then at Thanksgiving we all went back to my parents', and I was having an extremely difficult time. We always went back to New Jersey for Thanksgiving, and this was the first time without Fred in 16 years. I could hardly even rise in the morning. So Toddie came in and said, "C'mon babe, get dressed," and he made me get in the car. He rolled down the windows – he actually had a car where you had to roll down the windows! –and put on a cassette of the Natural Born Killers soundtrack. Our song ‘Rock'n'Roll Nigger’ is on that, and he turned it up as loud as he could get it, and we drove around to all our old hangouts and the places we used to play when we were kids.

Todd really loved that song, and he played it over and over, singing at the top of his lungs. He was going, "You're gonna be all right. You're gonna get back to work. Fred wanted you to and you're gonna do it and I'm gonna help you do it. Even if I have to quit my job to go on the road with ya, we're gonna pull everything up." He was so full of energy and love and enthusiasm that he made it difficult to disbelieve him. I wasn't familiar with that soundtrack, and he said, "There's another little song on it you'll like." So we parked in front of Hoedown Hall and Thomas's Field where we used to play, and this song came on. It was Bob Dylan singing "See the pyramids along the Nile..." [‘You Belong To Me’]. Fred used to sing that song to me, and I sat there and cried listening to Bob sing it. We had been talking about Dylan and how great he was; again, Toddie would have loved being a part of that tour.

We talked and talked, and he stayed for another couple of days. He wouldn't let me not feel good; it was his mission. He said, "We're gonna spend Christmas together and we're gonna get back on our feet." Todd went back to Virginia, and right after that he suffered a stroke and passed away. Which isn't at all uncommon on my side of the family. It was really terrible, but after the shock of losing him I found that he had made me feel so good, and had brought up my spirits so much, that I made a decision. Since his last mission in life had been to get me feeling good, I wasn't going to have his mission be in vain. So even now when I feel... you know... I just think about that.

You have to let your loved ones go, even as you cherish their spirit as you move forward. Which is difficult, but very important. Then, because of the kind of person I am, I also feel it is my mission to do something in their honour. Like I keep working and collaborating with Robert. [The Coral Sea, her tribute to Mapplethorpe featuring many of his photographs, will soon be published by W.W. Norton.] I have many things to do for Fred, not only in terms of work but of course the lifelong mission of watching over our children. With my brother, my mission is to feel good, be happy and do my work. So in those ways…as deeply as I miss all of their earthly presences, they're still around. Very much around.

"Jesus died for somebody's sins but not mine" is a line that will forever be associated with you. How do you view it now?

I wrote that line when I was 20 years old. A lot of people misinterpreted it as the statement of an atheist, somebody who doesn't believe in anything. I happen to believe in Jesus. I never said he didn't exist. I only said that I didn't want him to take responsibility for my actions. Because I was young, I perceived myself as an artist, and the artist as a sort of cerebral criminal. I wanted the freedom to pursue all the things I imagined. Things within my art, not in life. In my art, I wanted the right to be misguided, misdirected, slightly criminal, utterly promiscuous, even a murderer. Within the realm of my work. I didn't want to be weighed down with such a conscience that I couldn't trample the earth, every junkyard and every cloud. I wanted to be free of conscience. I wanted free rein.

Over the years I got into studying Christ, reconsidering Him in Pasolini terms: Christ as revolutionary, a person who felt akin to our people. I found, as I got older and studied deeper, His roles, His ideals, His philosophies a lot more interesting. To the point that at our last show in Florence in '79, which was the last time I did that version of ‘Gloria’, I sang, "Jesus died for somebody's sins, why not mine?" I probably would not sing that original line now. Not because I think there's anything wrong with it, just because I don't identify with it now.

You always operated from the belief that rock'n'roll was a force for good. With all that's happened in the culture, do you still think that? Or has this belief in some way been perverted?

Well... I think everything gets perverted. But I'm not really concerned with how it gets perverted up in the mainstream, because that's business. I don't have the time or energy to pioneer against big business at this point in my life. Young people can do that.

I like the way young people are interacting globally. I like the alternative networking they're doing. I'd like to see them develop that, and start seeing what they can do collectively to better our situation on the planet. This planet is in deep trouble. What are we seeing? A resurgence of communicable diseases like tuberculosis, we have AIDS; the whole planet is becoming very viral. I'm not saying we can stop it, but only we can reduce all of these things.

Is music the same energy source for kids today that it was for us, or is it even possible that it can be?

I think there's so much stuff now. Look when we grew up. When I was a kid TV was black and white and there were three stations. They only had cartoons on Saturday morning. The records would come out, it's a big album, you have a big record player, you go home and put it on the record player, you sit and listen to it and really digest what the music’s saying. It was its own experience.

Music is still a powerful force – if you have a powerful individual – but I think it's a lot more convoluted now, if that's the right word.

You and Fred talked about not doing anything for personal gain, that it would have to benefit someone else. How do you reconcile that with everything that's happening now?

With this little tour we're not making any money; we're pretty much breaking even. We did a benefit for an AIDS hospice in San Francisco, and benefits will continue to be a big part of our agenda. I have to get back on my feet, truthfully. If it starts building and things go well, I look forward to a time where I never have to take a cent for hitting the stage. I'm watching people in rock'n'roll make millions and millions of dollars. I see a lot of my friends who've gotten extremely prosperous, and I think they should be doing a lot more. I don't mean giving an autographed guitar to charity. I mean, if you already have $20 million in the bank, take 10 million and find the people that are doing the strongest AIDS research and just give it to 'em. I would encourage performers to take the money they make on stage and give it to the people who need it.

When you first came around the mission was to keep alive and free a certain rock'n'roll spirit. Is the mission this time about this different, though related, spirit? The responsibility that comes with freedom?

I think so. A lot of the things we attempted to do in the '70s were accomplished. Like T.S. Eliot said, each generation translates for itself. I done what I was supposed to do when I done it. It's not my place to do it now. I wouldn't even know how to. All I know is that the planet is full of hands needing to be helped, and I'm trying to see what I can do to get things motivated in a new way. I still think it has to be revolutionary. We still need to redesign stuff.

People are making comeback tours and farewell tours, they're going on Unplugged and they're picking up their lifetime achievement awards. But what are they really doing? I think we've gotten way too cute with all these tons of awards we're giving to each other. Too much bullshit, too much cute stuff. The Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame. It's another money machine. I did appear at one of those to induct the Velvet Underground. I did that out of respect to the Velvets, and because that recognition meant something to them. But I feel about the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame pretty much the way Fred did: that we should be ashamed. The spirit should be the museum.

‘Piss Factory’ is still one of your more resonant works. But those women you described with such disdain – "these bitches are just too lame to understand/too God damn grateful to get this job to know they're getting screwed up the ass" –with all you've lived since, I'm wondering how you'd regard them now?

Oh, I'd be a lot more compassionate now. Not necessarily for their stupidity, because some of their rules and codes I would still rail against. But being hard-working women... maybe their husband's dead, or their husband took off and they've got six kids to look after. So yes, much more empathy, compassion. Much more respect.

When I was younger, I really felt completely there for the misfit, the person outside society. Artists, and people on the fringes, whether because of their philosophies or sexual persuasion or politics. And I still feel akin to those people, 'cos I'm still one of them. But I've been through so much... life – being a mother, being a widow, being a laundress, all the things I do – that I definitely feel more empathy, a more common bond with people. When I was younger I had so much intensity that it got to the point where I felt I was in a whole other realm. I don't feel that so much – I feel a lot more human these days.

© Ben Edmonds 1996

Michael Stipe on Patti

UNLIKE THE OTHER GUYS IN THE BAND, WHEN WE started I didn't have any particular understanding of the standard history of the pop format, so I pretty much learned as I went along. I had virtually no musical background. I pretty much ignored music until I was about 15 years old, and at the high school that I went to – which was in Illinois in the very heart of middle America – heavy metal ruled. My parents listened to Gershwin, Mancini, Wanda Jackson and the soundtrack to Dr Zhivago. That's all I heard.

I accidentally got a subscription to the Village Voice when I was 15. Right about that time – middle to late 1975 – they were talking about this thing that was going on in New York with Television and Patti Smith and the Ramones and CBGB's. I distinctly remember the November 1975 issue of Creem magazine. Someone had left a copy in study hall under a chair. It had a picture of Patti Smith, and she was terrifying looking. She looked like Morticia Addams. And I think it was Lester Bangs or Lisa Robinson writing about punk rock in New York and how all the other music was like watching colour movies, but this is like watching static-y black and white TV. And that made incredible sense to me. I read about those bands before I ever heard them, and it just sounded so amazing.

Horses, the first Patti Smith album, came out soon afterwards and it pretty much tore my limbs off and put them back on in a different way. I was 15 when I heard it, and that's pretty strong stuff for a 15-year-old American middle-class white boy, sitting in his parents' living room with the headphones on so they wouldn't hear it. It was like the first time you went into the ocean and got knocked down by a wave. It killed. It was so completely liberating. I had my parents' crappy headphones and I sat up all night with a huge bowl of cherries listening to Patti Smith, eating those cherries and going. Oh, my God!... Holy shit!... Fuck!... Then I was sick.

© Michael Stipe 1996

[readyforevolution]

Black History Facts!!!

#Happy90th

#NAACP

Born Myrlie Louise Beasley on March 17, 1933, in her maternal grandmother’s home in Vicksburg, Mississippi. She was the daughter of James Van Dyke Beasley, a delivery man, and Mildred Washington Beasley, who was 16 years old. Myrlie’s parents separated when she was just a year old; her mother left Vicksburg but decided that Myrlie was too young to travel with her. Since her maternal grandmother worked all day in service, with no time to raise a child, Myrlie was raised by her paternal grandmother, Annie McCain Beasley, and an aunt, Myrlie Beasley Polk. Both women were respected school teachers and they inspired her to follow in their footsteps. Myrlie attended the Magnolia school, took piano lessons, and performed songs, piano pieces or recited poetry at school, in church, and at local clubs.

Myrlie graduated from Magnolia High School (Bowman High School) in 1950. During her years in high school, Myrlie was also a member of the Chansonettes, a girls’ vocal group from Mount Heroden Baptist Church in Vicksburg. In 1950, Myrlie enrolled at Alcorn A&M College, one of the few colleges in the state that accepted African American students, as an education major intending to minor in music. Myrlie is also a member of Delta Sigma Theta sorority. On her first day of school Myrlie met and fell in love with Medgar Evers, a World War II veteran eight years her senior. The meeting changed her college plans, and the couple later married on Christmas Eve of 1951. They later moved to Mound Bayou, and had three children, Darrell Kenyatta, Reena Denise, and James Van Dyke. In Mound Bayou, Myrlie worked as a secretary at the Magnolia Mutual Life Insurance Company.

When Medgar Evers became the Mississippi field secretary for the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) in 1954, Myrlie worked alongside him. Myrlie became his secretary and together they organized voter registration drives and civil rights demonstrations. She assisted him as he struggled to end the practice of racial segregation in schools and other public facilities and as he campaigned for voting rights many African Americans were denied this right in the South. For more than a decade, the Everses fought for voting rights, equal access to public accommodations, the desegregation of the University of Mississippi, and for equal rights in general for Mississippi's African American population. As prominent civil rights leaders in Mississippi, the Everses became high-profile targets for pro-segregationist violence and terrorism.

In 1962, their home in Jackson, Mississippi, was firebombed in reaction to an organized boycott of downtown Jackson’s white merchants. The family had been threatened, and Evers targeted by the Ku Klux Klan.

In 1967, after Byron De La Beckwith's release in 1965, she moved with her children to Claremont, California, and emerged as a civil rights activist in her own right. She earned her Bachelor of Arts in sociology from Pomona College. She spoke on behalf of the NAACP and in 1967 she co-wrote For Us, the Living, which chronicled her late husband's life and work. She also made two unsuccessful bids for U.S. Congress. From 1968 to 1970, Evers was the director of planning at the center for Educational Opportunity for the Claremont Colleges.

From 1973 to 1975, Evers was the vice-president for advertising and publicity at the New York-based advertising firm, Seligman and Lapz. In 1975, she moved to Los Angeles to become the national director for community affairs for the Atlantic Richfield Company (ARCO). At ARCO she was responsible for developing and managing all the corporate programs. This included overseeing funding for community projects, outreach programs, public and private partnership programs and staff development. She helped secure money for many organizations such as the National Woman’s Educational Fund, and worked with a group that provided meals to the poor and homeless.

Myrlie Evers-Williams continued to explore ways to serve her community and to work with the NAACP. Los Angeles mayor Tom Bradley appointed her to the Board of Public Works as a commissioner in 1987. Evers-Williams was the first black woman to serve as a commissioner on the board, a position she held for 8 years. Evers-Williams also joined the board of the NAACP. By the mid-1990s, the prestigious organization was going through a difficult period marked by scandal and economic problems. Evers-Williams decided that the best way to help the organization was to run for chairperson of the board of directors. She won the position in 1995, just after her second husband’s death due to prostate cancer. As chairperson of the NAACP, Evers-Williams worked to restore the tarnished image of the organization. She also helped improve its financial status, raising enough funds to eliminate its debt. Evers-Williams received many honors for her work, including being named Woman of the Year by Ms. Magazine. With the organization financially stable, she decided to not seek re-election as chairperson in 1998. In that same year, she was awarded the NAACP's Spingarn Medal.

Sources:

Padgett, John. "MWP: Myrlie Evers-Williams". University of Mississippi. Retrieved October 20, 2011

Goldsworthy, Joan. "Gale - Free Resources - Black History - Biographies - Myrlie Evers-Williams". Gale. Retrieved November 22, 2011.

Myrlie Evers-Williams Biography - Facts, Birthday, Life Story - Biography.com". Famous Biographies & TV Shows - Biography.com. A&E Television Networks. Retrieved November 22, 2011.

Davis, Merlene. "Merlene Davis: Myrlie Evers-Williams doesn't want us to forget". Kentucky.com. Retrieved November 22, 2011.

Jessie Carney Smith; VNR Verlag für die Deutsche Wirtschaft (1996). Notable Black American Women: book II. p. 208.

University of Virginia (June 24, 2013). "Speakers and Guests Bios". virginia.edu. Archived from the original on June 2, 2013.

[matchakirby]

hi tumblr! I’m Eve, a queer Scottish poet returning to the motherland that is tumblr.com. I very much was in the tumblr trenches during my teen years (I spent a lottt of time on this platform between 2013-2018) but thought it was about time I returned with a new account, since I’ve been hearing tumblr is a very chill place to be rn?

embarrassingly, I used to run a fandom blog (think superwholock but heavy on the Sherlock, with some HP in there before JK Rowling showed her true terf colours) and a Muse blog (they are still my favourite band and I can now happily say I’ve seen them live 3 times!).

I’m now 23, about to graduate from uni with a English Literature & Spanish degree, where I specialised in creative writing poetry :)! I write weird, queer, eco-horror narrative poetry about transhumanism, bodies, gore, and other fun stuff. I probably won’t be using tumblr for that, but if I’ve peaked your interest you can find me on IG @ devilfruitpoems. I recently wrote a book (!) as my dissertation which I feel like tumblr would really enjoy if it still has the spirit of the site I remember lol.

right now, I’m really into mcr (obviously, I never grew out of that), old patd, other emo-aligned groups, post-punk, alternative 80s/new wave, Midwest emo, shows like the walking dead, aggretsuko, the breaking bad universe (lol), and a lot of film bro movies although I do not share their gatekeepy attitude about what’s good and what isn’t. my favourite movie is literally Lego Batman. I’m really into fashion and self-expression, so probably will document some scenemo outfits here (I am lucky enough to have a job where I can dress how I like!), and of course I’m heavy into literature. I’ve been on a real Ursula K. Le Guin kick this year, and she inspired a lot of my dissertation with her eco-horror feminist science-fiction. soooo before her time. I’m honestly into a lot more stuff, but it’s hard to think of it all compactly to write in one post lol so you can always send me an ask. I’ve recently started playing breath of the wild (I’ve put it off for years) and I’m a big Nintendo head so expect some reblogs related to games as well :)!

it’s lovely to be back, and I hope to find some cool blogs here soon! I love video essays, Internet lore, stories, as well as shitposts, so recommend me some good blogs if you can!

Thanks!

Eve

[pages-and-potatoes]

A look back on the eve of my 30th birthday.

Over the past ten years…

I’ve read 620 books

I finished two degrees at uni (BA in English and American Studies and a teaching degree in English and History)

I’ve been in two relationships, one of which is still ongoing and a beautiful part of my life

I’ve lost two grandparents and one cat

I’ve become an aunt to four amazing niblings

I’ve gone through one bad relationship breakup and one devastating friendship breakup

I’ve made a handful of friends whom I cherish deeply

I’ve joined a theatre group which has given me a home

I’ve lost and gained weight, leaving me 12 kg heavier than I was at 20

I’ve been in therapy on and off

I discovered how much I love roleplaying with my friends

I rediscovered writing and especially poetry

I’ve died my hair red, bright green, dark green, purple, blonde, ginger, turquoise, blue, dark brown, and sometimes even back to my natural hair colour

I’ve volunteered for a political campaign and a charity bookshop

I’ve worked in museums, at university, and at my current school

I’ve cried so so many times

I’ve laughed even more

I’ve changed so much

I love lists and this is just a random and not extensive summary of the last ten years. My twenties sure have been eventful and I can't wait to see what my thirties have in store for me.