#my pig ass just: NOM

[stabbyfoxandrew]

lmao i meant to take photos of the zucchini bread but i got super fat and cut into it as soon as i got it out of the pan :')

[sweetestpopcorn]

Thank you! Thank you for creating the best fanfic I have ever read. I have no words to describe my awe for your talent and dedication nor for my gratitude that you gift us this masterpiece for FREE.

You literally put accomplished authors to shame. You could write as ghostwriter for GRRM, and save us Targaryen and Daenerys fans a lot of heartbreak. XD

Let me tell you that I have binge read those crispy 165 characters since July the 16th. Thank you for satisfying all my Valyrian supremacy cravings, for which this fandom cancel us. You are such a nice escapism from all the Targaryen hate in this forsaken fandom. 😩👏🏼

I never came across a fanfic writer that exceeds all of my expections. Thank you for sharing the same brain –Daemon and Rhaenyra as the OTP? check! The greens all being pathetic embarrassing disappointments in the eyes of everbody? check! No Rhaenyra and Leanor bs? Check! No goddamn dragon seeds? Check! No Strong x Rhaenyra children? Check! Prefect domestic Daemon and Rhaenyra children fluff? Check! No Rhaenyra being bedridden at the beginning of The Dance? Yess queen! Alicent already getting a reality check where her pathetic son and her scheming is concerned despite being just like 3 chapters into the Dance? Check! Alyn and Addam getting the pagetime they deserve? Check! – and *actually* having  the talent, skills and dedication to bring it all onto paper. My Savior 😩🙏

Your fanfic is now my canon where the Dance is concerned. In fact it is so good, it now my favorite era in ASoIaF, definitely tops the current one. 😉

No wonder GRRM hates fanfiction, you treat us better than he ever did! Why couldn't you be in charge of the HBO writer room? 😭

All your characters feel so canon-ish(?), the banter is great, I love how you stick to the medivial royal etiquette –most GoT fanfic writers don't, but I don't blame given how D&D thought snarky obnoxious brusque insults is how nobles talk to each other– I love all the cute domestic fluffy Dragonstone household 😍

Viserys: "Don't worry Visenya you are so chubby the crow didn't break you finger"

Daddy Daemon: "don't insult your sister/don't call your sister fat"

While Visenya switches between Daemon's hair and his necklace-thingy: *nom* *nom* *nom* 🐿️

Sooo cuteeeee ❤️✨

Ouh, but your strong suit? How you write the Greens. Never in my life have I read any characters thoughts and interactions that make my blood boil and my vassals poop as fast as theirs. Love their delusional megalomaniac planning and false reality perception. You top Cersei's POV in those regards.

Alicent makes me want to trottel her with her misogynistic bs and her obsessive ass. Aegon and Aemond are just embarrassments for House Targaryen. I hope Rhaenyra orders all historians to denounce them as princes of House Targaryen in history books. Oh and Rhaenyra's first law as Queen of the 7K has to be that House Targaryen, especially the Monarch and Heir is prohibited to marry any other House as long there is a Targaryen or Velaryon, Celtigar groom/bride 😋

Yes I'm THAT kind of blood purist, this fandom can cancel me for all I care 😆

While we all wait for you to continue blessing us with your masterpiece, I will lose myself in my HCs how your story continues on; Such as i) Aemond attacks BB Aegon -> everbody believes Aegon died -> Daemon let's Jaehaerys be assassinated alla "a son for a son" after all -> Heleana commits suicide -> Daemon kills Aemond alla canon, but Daemon survives (mabye Rhaenys is here to save the day) -> Maelor is sent to Oldtown as precaution, but gets killed on the road similar as to canon -> The Gold Cloaks assassinate Aegon the Pig when he visites The Street of Silk, cause they are the loyal bitches of Daddy D and the pigking is an idiot -> Rhaenyra takes The Capital and has Alicent arrested -> Viserys is about to head up with Daeron near Oldtown when Aegon III reappears with the Winter Wolves, after they murdered Ser Incel -> With them on their doorstep, the men turn on Daeron and murder him to prevent the battle -> the Blacks take Oldtown -> Idk if Otto is in KL or Oldtown, doesn't matter that bitch is dragged there to watch as the Blacks turn Hightower into Harrenhall 2.0 -> Otto and Alicent are kept in the Red Keep for the rest of their lifes and have to see the Blacks thrive as punishment 😎

And somebody kill Lord Baratheon and Veamond!

Oh and I'm that kind of person, where I have the Green brutally murdered but their dragons all survive, cause... cause they are dragons, and their riders being trashbags is not their faults. 😂 And I love dragons, I really hope you won't kill them off in your story, or Rhaenyra/Daemon and their kids 🤞🏼 #screwcanon

Anyway, you are probably gonna exceed all my expectations –Idk if that's incredibly up-lifting for a writer or puts a lot of pressure on you 😬– so.... [but if you don't know how to kill Aegon II off yet, maybeeee you could do it like that? 🥺 pretty please?- 😂]

Still can believe you wrote so much in 3 years 😩👀

Sry this is sooo long I just wanted you to know how appreciated you are.��👏🏼 Hope you are doing great 🙂

Ps: RIP Lord Lyman Beesbury, the only honorable man in the Red Keep 😔✊🏼

Pss: Shoutout to Petyr Piper, Lord of Pinkmaiden I hope you live longer than Lyman Beesbury 😩 We stan a honorable honest man with taste

Psss: I trust you, but what are you doing with 9yo Rhaena and one of the Rogares... 🤨 pls don't pull me a GRRM with underage girl being "horny" for strange men trice their age. PLEASE.

Hi there! 🤗🤗

First of all, how DARE you say such nice words to me?!

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Thank you so much!

I cannot tell you how touched I was when I read your ask, and how emotional I was as well...

I say it all the time and it's true. I don't have any particular talent. I have no formal education in literature or any of the sort. English is not my native language. My imagination sucks. The only thing that is special about me (but in my opinion shouldn't be because most people should do this) is that I give a sh:t. That's it. I give a sh:t. That’s it. That’s all.

My fics are very far from perfect, but I always strive to do my best. To keep things consistent. To fix things where I can. To make people feel like these are the characters they read about (not watched, read, it will forever only be the characters they read about) and that they live in the asoiaf universe. Because I love this story, these characters, this world, and every time I think about the mockery that is being made of them and of how many people turn a blind eye to this and support it it really leaves me angry. But no more of this talk because I am NOT going there or getting anywhere near that poorly pathetic excuse for a fanfiction which has less of canon in it than ANY fanfiction I have ever seen.

Back to "The Blacks & the Greens". Thank you so much <3 don't be too impressed (if any) though. When I first started I was not as good at... anything really. I had a lot of trouble in world building, action scenes, getting how the characters should talk right... I had a real learning curve and there is a huge difference between some earlier chapters and the new ones - hence why I am currently finishing revamping part 1 and then will move on to part 2; part 3 I am super happy with though so I will just do minor corrections on typos. Heck! I even struggled to write smut! Me! The person who gets something happening in between the smut scenes! Can you imagine? *shudders* I am kidding there's not that much porn in my fanfiction 🙂

How it feels to read "The Blacks & the Greens":

Also DAMN that was a binge O o 

I continue to not understand how people see this: 

And this: 

And they don’t tell me to go f_ck myself or commit myself to an institution. 

Me: joke’s on you! I am already there! 

I’m not. :)

I cannot tell you how happy your words make me. 2022 has been THE cursed year for tv shows (yes, I know how privileged I sound), and it is people like you and writing that help keep me sane and keep my love for this story and characters alive. 

I hope to be here for long, giving justice to the number 1 chaotic OTP of Fire and Blood Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen! And encouraging others to piss on people who make a mockery of the universe we love, and help to give these characters justice!

And long live Queen Daenerys Targaryen!!!!! I would write something for her, but I cannot make her justice and I will confess I have no f_cking clue of how I would end the story :’l I just... I’m dumb... I. Am. Dumb! 

Anyway to end this on a positive note and because I loved the: 

Viserys: "Don't worry Visenya you are so chubby the crow didn't break you finger"

Daddy Daemon: "don't insult your sister/don't call your sister fat"

While Visenya switches between Daemon's hair and his necklace-thingy: *nom* *nom* *nom* 🐿️

Daemon in Part 1: Literally you are a bag of d_cks and people are like “Prince Daemon, step away from the underaged girl!” but then they realize everyone around is so much worse 😐 and you’re kind of funny (and hot, k like super hot) so they stan you.

Daemon in Part 2: No one: Absolutely no one: Not a single soul: Not even one person: Constantly reminding everyone you are tapping Rhaenyra for a living and that your sons are the future kings. You also do scary things every once and a while and you might (MIGHT) be developing some uncomfortable things other people call “feelings”. 

Daemon in Part 3: Walking around with one or two children with him constantly and saying and doing cool things and cashing checks no one can afford while your babies eat your hair. Also getting really tired of a lot of sh:t. 

Daemon in Part 4: Good. I don’t have to hold back anymore 😠 Everyone: You were holding back?!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭

Thank you for all the faith you have in me <3 I hope I am worthy it. And I can say that next chapter is either from Daemon or Aegon II’s POV. 

Again thank you <3 I don’t deserve it, but it’s nice to have, so I will just hold on to it. 

[cloudycrystalkpop]

Cutting Edge

pairing: trickster! Hongjoong x surviver! reader

summery: dead by daylight au

words: 1.2k 

warnings: gender neutral reader (but one masculine word is used for them bc most of Korean uses gendered language ), violence, gore, murder

notes: I wanted to use actual Korean in this since Ji Woon (Trickster) does in the game, buuuut my knowledge is limited and trying to write anything gender neutral in Korean is very difficult if you are a beginner to the language. 

*동생 [dongseng] : literally translated to “younger sibling”. something you would call a friend younger than you. 

** 미친놈 [mi-chin-nom] : profanity. literally translated to “crazy bastard”. 

you covered your head as the generator groaned and sputtered. cursing under your breath you quickly regained your work until the broken-down generator hummed to life. you grinned triumphantly, before you felt a sinking feeling in your gut. 

racing to your feet to went to dash away, but cried out in pain as a dagger embedded itself in your shoulder. 

a horrifying giggle was heard, far too close for your own comfort. you dashed off as fast as you could, the sound of footsteps followed close behind you. 

the manic laughter never stopped, neither did the knives. one, two, three, four, you dodged them as best you could. two found their mark, embedding themselves in your back. 

you let out a scream of pain as a large bat struck your shoulder, knocking you to the ground. 

the world fuzzed around you as your head filled with the cutting pain. dizzy you crawled away as best you could, knowing what awaited you. the man stepped on your back, shoving one of the knives deeper into your muscle as you screamed. 

his giggling only turned too full, cruel laughter. you shoved with all your strength, catching the man above you off guard. you rolled to your side and hiked to your feet, shoving your attacker hard enough to stumble. 

scooping up an abandoned dagger on the ground, one now covered in your own blood, you turned on him, rage in your eyes and pouring in red ribbons down your back. 

“FUCK YOU!” you screamed, stabbing the knife in his bare chest. 

he yelled in pain and shock, but grabbed your wrist, still holding the knife embedded in his chest. he dragged you closer against him, madness in his eyes. 

“you’ve still got fight in you huh? good. I’ll make a murder of you yet.” the words danced on his tongue with a foreign pull. 

recall buzzed across you mind. Kim Hongjoong, ex Korean idol turned serial killer. after the tragic death of his group he began torturing and murdering people, recording them and using it his producing. you'd heard his music, he was talented. what a shame it was waisted on a psychopath. 

wait, make a, murder out of you? 

you hesitated too long.

the bat came crashing down on your skull. your world pulled black as it felt as though your head split open like an earthquake. 

when you returned to your senses you found yourself slung over his shoulder, humming happily to himself. you tried to struggle but your body was too broken. 

he giggled, tapping your ass with the side of his bat. 

“hush now my 동생*, i’ll see you again later~” your head spun as he hoisted you above his head, a hook piercing through your shoulder, holding you there by your shoulder and collarbone. 

you screamed in agony, swinging at his head with your arms and legs in a desperate attempt for revenge. he just grinned, your blood painting his shoulder, mixed with his own skidded over his chest. he giggled waving you goodbye as your world slowly turned black. 

~

when you saw him again, was in a yellow field. dead grass and abandoned farming equipment scattered around. crows cried above you, the trees hung with slaughtered pigs. 

you'd watched two other survivors hung from the hooks. one generator left, and by the sounds of the screaming, your killer was distracted. 

the generator sputtered, blowing smoke in your face. your fingers were raw and scared, lungs burning from the gas. 

the screaming stopped. you were the last one left. footsteps, run. 

run, run, run. you bolted away, generator be damned. you still had hope, if you were the last one, the hatch would be open, allowing you escape into the inky black mist. 

your lungs burned as you bolted towards the tree, corpses hung like Christmas lights from the branches, dead grass stained deep red below. you could see it, the wooden hatch waiting black mist pouring from the corners. 

a yellow coat dashed from your vision. Hongjoong, grin wide as ever, kicked the door closed. laughter loud as he watched the hope fade from your eyes. 

“my favorite 동생* is back!” he sung happily. you darted out of the way of a plethora of knives. 

you'd had enough.

a small scythe rested against a rock, rusted, the wooden handle splintered. rage burned in your blood. you wouldn't die today, not again. never again.

you ducked down, scooping one of his knives and placing it in your boot. with that, you too the broken scythe in your hands, blood dripping down your hands from the splinters. 

Hongjoong raised a brow as you let out a yell, sprinting towards him. his laugh died in his throat as you hooked the half moon blade around his shoulder, pulling as hard as you could. the rusted blade tore through his yellow coat, causing a yell to fall from his lips as it yanked through him not long after. 

“미친놈**!” he swung his bat at your head, but you caught his arm. 

“try again, fucker.” you spat, cracking the side of the scythe against his wrist. he yelps, dropping his bat. you reached to try and hook your blade around his throat, but he steps away, burying a blade in your stomach. you gasp at the stabbing pain, gritting your teeth. he twists it in your gut, before kicking your knees. 

you fall to the dirt, and Hongjoong kicks the scythe out of your hands. he laughs manically as he retrieves his bat, raising it over his head. 

“you impress me!” he spat, his own blood now dotting the ground. “maybe you’ll be more successful next time~” he cooed. 

before his bat could come down on your head, you pulled the blade from your sock, darting up as the bat came down, the blade on the side burins itself in your shoulder, and the blade in your hand buried in his neck. 

Hongjoong sputters, shock in his eyes. you grit your teeth, and drag the dagger across his throat, watching the horror in his eyes as you cut him open. the crimson river pours down his bare chest as he tries to gasp, but only a horrible wheezing sound occurs. 

“a real shame you waisted that lovely voice.” you growled. he falls to his knees, the bat in your shoulder falling away as you hissed. 

Hongjoong stares up at you as the life slowly drains from his face. he continues to make wheezing noises, wether attempts at speech or screaming you didn’t know. but finally as the color disappears from his skin, a large grin paints his face. 

“you fucking psychopath.” you growl down at the corpse. 

the sound of a loud and low hum begins, the ground cracking in colors of red and orange. blank mist begins to gather at your ankles.

today you win. you didn’t run away. you didn’t make it out. today, you won. but, at what cost?

~

when you awoke, you were on a street. abandoned cop cars, suburban houses, and hooks instead of light polls.  you felt something heavy in your hand, looking down, you found the scythe. now polished and gleaming in the moonlight. 

you heard as a generator hummed to life, watching as four survivors scattered, running away in fear of the killer sent to hunt them.

[moon-chime]

I LOVE how ppl be like "I can't stop eating haha! I'm so quirky! Look at my skinny ass posing with a donut! Haha, nom nom chicken nugget!"

But then they see a fat person whose like "I can't seem to stop obsessing over food and eating food and every single moment of my life is consumed with shame and fear around food and I just can't seem to break this vicious cycle" and the skinny people be like "ok fatass just put the fork down."

Mental illness and addictions are only cute when y'all can sexualize it, and it shows. Your refusal to realize that food is an addictive agent (and MADE to be that way) and rapid weight gain is often a sign of depression, anxiety, used for coping, used for self destruction and so on just like any other addictive substance out there. But nah, y'all just see a fat pig and think it's your duty to remind her that the fork is the enemy as if she doesn't fucking want to die every time she can't seem to stop eating until she is so full she feels like hurling but can't! As if that behavior isn't a classic indication of mental illness!

Y'all make me laff

[martian-martian-martian]

I saw there were no timestamps for LESTAT: THE MUSICAL online so I bit the bullet and watched it for the first time and recorded this iconic bullshit myself in a play-by-play P.1

(WARNING: this is all bullshit that I found funny or interesting, apologies if not all the stamps are helpful.) I spent two hours on this so please reblog or like it. Part TWO will come soon.  (I also commented the stamps ON the youtube comments for the video so you can use them there for convenience.) 

Tagging all the vampire chronicles (??? related) people I know: @cara--corvaia , @lestatthebiprince @i-want-my-iwtv @vamp-prince-mikhael @tomorrow--mourning @moasfuck @hotvampiregoss @fuckinglovemanga @theweightwecarry @just-another-vcblog @thevampirelesthot @her-golden-hair Sorry to bother you if you dont know me, this is just a blatant ploy to befriend you all, and also, did I mention, you’re cool by the way. 

2:57 - Lestat can’t get his knife back in its fucking sheathe 3:22 - Lestat’s dad looks like Geralt of Rivia and you can’t change my mind. 4:00 - Gabrielle is That Bitch P.1 5:00 - Nicholas?!?! *scooby-doo “AROOO?” noise*   5:50 - Gabrielle is That Bitch P.2 SHE can BELT, y’all 6:10 - Lestat literally left 2 seconds ago and Gabi sings about how he’s gone. 

8:33 - First clap of the night, thank god, it was way too quiet so far 

8:52 - the stupidest fucking hats ive ever seen 

9:08 - Lestat is called a “country boy” and NICHOLAS!!!! 

9:40 - titties joke 

9:50 - this dude in a BERET is sending me, what ERA is he FROM what the FUCKKK 

10:00 -  someone’s head blocks the gay agenda 

10:38 - “yo dawg i heard you liked bad acting so i put some bad acting in your bad acting so you could badly act while you badly act” 

11:50- the audience laughs at obvious ‘only one bed trope’ that is obvious 

12:20 - Nicholas possibly fucked himself with a violin? 

12:33 - pig noises 

13:05 - the audience laughs at obvious Top Nicholas 

13:50 - catholicism 

14:05 - thats GAYYYYYYY p.1 

14:40 - JUMPSCARE 

14:50 - Lestat is bitten by this rando and cums instantly 

15:00 - thirsty boi om nom nom 

16:43 - Lestat can have a little kiss, as a treat. 

16:55 - “Well, I’m out” *creates fire out of nowhere, walks through it, and dies* 

20:10 - every time he says ‘thirst’ take a shot no just kidding dont haha unless… 

22:19 - one guy in the audience tries to clap then stops 

24:06 - “MOM, ITS MY TURN TO USE THE NICHOLAS” 

25:00 - tender ass love ballad is a tender ass love ballad 

29:00 - coming out to your mom as dead 

30:00 - Gabrielle’s voice gives me literal chills 

32:20 - do NOT laugh do NOT laugh this is NOT funny at all this is serious 

33:30 - Mulan 

33:55 - Gabrielle is That Bitch P.3 she really out here 

34:50 - Moooo-ooom, you’re embarrassing me. 

35:50 - Gabrielle is That Bitch P.4 

37:00 - antonio banderas the 300 year old EDGY BOY 

40:26 - armand has a teen voice crack (“thousands of yEaRs”) 

42:20 - this random person shoots their shot at armand and gets nerfed 

43:19 - “you would be beautiful if someone held you under a waterfall for several hours” HGHJGGHGHGHJGJH why would you say that?! 

43:35 - humans pretending to be vampires tell vampires to pretend to be humans pretending to be vampires. 

44:29 - armand drops nicholas like a sack of potatoes and made me laugh 

46:00 - that moment when suck your boyfriend too hard ladies amirite no wait  never mind he’s dying this is bad actually 46:40 thru 

50:00 -  vampires pretending to be humans pretending to be vampires BUT MAKE IT A HIGHSCHOOL MODERN DANCE SHOWCASE 

50:50 - armand said: nice theater. shame if i were to….steal it hundreds of years later. 

51:12 - thats GAYYYYYYY p. 2  X2 BONUS DOUBLE WHAMMY 

51:45 - they literally said “Nick was so pure his brain exploded rip” 

53:12 - get PWN’D armand you slut 

56:12 - if you listen closely you can hear my heart breaking 

57:00 - Gabrielle is That Bitch P.5 this whole song is bamf material 

58:55 - long-ass head kiss 

59:00 - “I DID NOT GIVE YOU THE DARK GIFT SO THAT YOU COULD WALK AWAY FROM ME.” 

 “I GAVE YOU THE GIFT OF LIFE KNOWING SOME DAY YOU WOULD WALK AWAY FROM ME!” 

1:00:30 - Gabrielle is That Bitch P.6 INCREDIBLE BELT 

1:00:50 - everyone is clapping! Clapping! Oh god, wait! Oh god they’re kissing! He’s kissing his mom! Clapping...peters out… you hear people go ‘oh’.... he is… kissing his mom...clapping...ends… 

1:01:00 - “I love you my son.” people laugh because incest 

1:04:19 - world’s saddest cookout 

1:05:20 - OH WELL I NEVER HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A VAMP SO CLEVER AS MAGICAL MISTER MAAAAAARIUSTOPHELEES

[naturaldisasterfanfiction]

2.

It’s been weeks, maybe about two months since I have left my slumber of my home, I just didn’t feel the need to leave my home, I mean why do I need to leave, to do what exactly and to see who. I am still not over how happy I felt and then to be dropped off like it was nothing, it was so unfair to me and it actually hurt me. I know I am hurt when I am out here denying sex from any other but hey, I will get over it like I do. Clearly Robyn has, like a piece of shit I am, she has moved on and is now in the clubs in London, I am stalking now. I know I said sometimes to her but now it’s all of the time, I had to laugh because she mimicked me saying sometimes but it was sometimes. There has been no communication since, and I think it’s for the best, shawty is right. I am not the best person for her, I have a fucked life meanwhile the love of her life Drake is ok to party with her, god forbidden I am close. I am sure her dry ass pussy is not so dry anymore; I am annoyed again. Why did I do this to myself, fuck it and fuck her. I am going to go back to those empty pleasures to fill those empty nights, I am very offended she said we don’t talk when we’re sober but she is actually fucking right, but then she is sober with Drake and I don’t have issues with him but now I do, I hate him again “daddy, you came!!” looking up from the ground, my smile grew watching Royalty running to me with her big ole school bag, her long pig tails jumping around as she ran with such happiness, the warmth of her face, she is happy and that alone makes me smile. I asked Nia if I could pick her up, I know it’s not my day to have her, but I needed some daughter time, she is a whole goof like me, and I need it. it’s been weeks since I have bothered to do something with her “I told you stink, I said I would come. You are getting so tall girl” Royalty grabbed me, giving me the biggest hug. Her arms tight around my waist, leaning down hugging her with the big bag included “missed me that much?” laughing at her “why are you late coming out too?” looking to the side a little, Royalty’ eyes are closed shut tightly. I feel bad that it’s like I have arrived from being overseas, I am just not far from her at all, does this make me a bad dad.

Helping Royalty take her bag off “this is heavy, what the hell” I laughed “I will hold it for you, tell me why you took so long to come out?” holding the bag in my hand watching her “because I was getting my things, look in my bag?” Royalty said smiling, opening the bag slowly “why?” I am confused “daddy just look” opening the bag with some difficulty, peaking into the bag “there is clothes in here?” looking at her with such confusion, what is this “is that why it is so heavy? You want to get changed?” Royalty shook her head laughing “no!” she yelped out “a sleepover at your house, so you ring mom and tell her that you want me to sleep over? She thinks you wasn’t coming but you did so that means sleepover” she jumped up and down, raising an eyebrow at Royalty saying that “your mom said that huh?” closing the bag “but my house is not clean?” I can’t just take her there when I have women and the boys there “but it’s never clean dad, you always say that! It’s not fair, I haven’t been there for weeks, I don’t want you to pick me up now” she pushed at me and then stormed off “Roro, come on now. I don’t mean no, I never said no. Look” jogging towards her “look, you can. I will call your mom, you can sleepover” I don’t know how that will work because Nia will say no because it’s my house “you promise? Dad say promise. You can’t break it?” I sighed heavily “promise, I will call mom and ask her. Don’t get upset” lightly touching her nose smiling, I can’t let her down now.

I breathed out as I pressed my phone to my ear, this is not going to be fun to tell Nia Royalty packed her bags and she wants to stay over “strap yourself in properly” I said to Royalty, I don’t want to be stopped now “hello” I already sighed out “hey, I picked up Royalty and she packed in her bag overnight clothes, do you know this?” maybe Nia did “uh, what? No, I didn’t, she took her bigger bag because she had a project but clothes no? Where is she!?” slight panic in her voice “she is in the car, she wants to stay over at my house, the house is clean. I promise, can she?” I am lying of course, the home is not that but I can just get Hoody to hide things and get rid of the girls “not really, you have no idea how to handle her on your own Chris, I can’t let her go there with random men at that home? You seriously saying it will be just you and her? I doubt it, I can allow it at your mother’ home but you, I can’t” see this is what gets on my nerves “you think I would let anything happen to my daughter? That is my daughter Nia! The fuck, you can’t just say my mom for everything. You know what, you say no to her! And tell her why, how much you don’t trust me” this is fucking dumb “you right Chris, how can I? You don’t know what to do, she will be looking after you like she wants!” I would throw a tantrum, but I can’t “roro, your mom wants to speak to you” holding my phone out to her, I can’t kick off because then Royalty will see. How can she even think I am useless like that; I am not that bad, and Royalty is rather independent “but I want to see dad, mom I will be good please. I promise I will be extra good, let me stay at dad’ and then I won’t go to meme house on the weekend? Please, I just want this one thing. I don’t want to hear no, everyone sees their dad I want mine. Come on!” she really fighting for this, chewing my bottom lip feeling a little bad about it “mom wants to speak to you, she has rules dad” taking the phone from her “hey” answering “this is all you, when kids speak they do and she told me how she hasn’t seen you in so long. You see what you done; she has school in the morning. And those niggas better not be there, just Hood and that is it. Fuck the rest” nodding my head “sure, I will call if there is anything” disconnecting the call “mom said yes baby” I said smiling “yes!! Mom just likes to be mean” Royalty and I high fived.

I did call Hoody and told him to clean house ASAP “come on then, let’s get you some frozen yoghurt” watching Royalty grunt as she tried to pull down the car door “done it!” locking the car door as she ran towards me “don’t get your school uniform dirty, I can’t be cleaning that now” Royalty held my hand as we made our way to the frozen yoghurt place “do you know what flavour you getting?” opening the door to walk inside, I don’t like going out much because then you get the stares, what are they even looking at “same as you! Anything you get” nodding my head “well we need to wait in the queue baby” I had to come to the one where they have the long queue “pick me” Royalty stood in front of me “aww do I have too?” picking her up anyways “you’re too tall for this, you’re taller than me. Don’t you think?” Royalty shook her head “I am still little daddy” I don’t even want a frozen yoghurt “you know, I don’t want anything so you choose what you want” Royalty wrapped her arms around my neck “then you pick for me, I trust you” she still wants me to pick “I got you” I try to not be seen or cause a scene because honestly, I don’t want to be taking pictures “who run the world, girls. Who run the world, girls” side eyeing Royalty singing “you all in my ear singing that?” she giggled “I like the song, but it’s true. Say it is true or I will tickle you until you can’t laugh anymore, quickly say it” I believe she will “ok, you are right” let me agree.

Laughing at Royalty dancing in her seat as she ate her frozen yoghurt “one scoop for me, nom, nom nom” licking my lips looking out of the window, I wish things were different for me “daddy, look at me. One scoop for you!” looking at Royalty with the spoon in my face “but I don’t want it” Royalty mean mugged me “ok, fine” eating from the spoon “nom, nom dad. We eating, so when are we dealing with Aeko? I can’t deal with him anymore, also dad do not have anymore kids, please. I can’t deal with it” this girl of mine “you funny, I don’t plan on it don’t worry. But you are a good big sister” Royalty rolled her eyes “it’s stressful, so we need set up where he has his days and I have mine because he doesn’t listen, boys smell” Royalty got me here cracking up laughing “dad! Can I use my phone to take a picture of us? Please, mom said I have to ask permission and that I need to be watched. My phone is in my pocket not switched on, because mom tracks me so please!” nodding my head, Nia is strict with her and I can imagine she is tracking her. I am glad she is secure in that sense; it needs to happen.

Pulling the car door up “go on the baby get in, strap yourself in properly” seeing my phone ring in my hand, I sighed out heavily. This is great, why does she want me now “good girl” answering the phone as I closed the car door “sleepover at daddy’s like you don’t have a second child? Does Royalty get special mentions all of the time?” Amikka sounding really foolish “you sound crazy! What the fuck do you know, don’t come at me when you don’t know anything. I helped you move here, and I can get you back out, I am with my daughter because she needs it. I see him but without you” walking around my car “stop stalking my daughter’ Instagram page too” I was going to get in my car but let me not, it is an argument “I am here for your son! Chris you don’t bother. You can have Aeko too there, you are acting like a real asshole” I barely have Royalty there “maybe I just want to spend time with Royalty?” she is jealous I spend more time with her when I equally don’t spend time with either of them “I will tell him that then, you haven’t bothered with him. The boy can speak and tells me everything” I chuckled “least one of you can speak real English” the phone line cut off, I shrugged locking my phone because I don’t give a fuck.

Zoning out in another meeting, I do this a lot and let my thoughts just take over my mind. I don’t know what is wrong with me and I don’t know why I have been recently doing this but I am so out of it, I feel very tired but I have had meeting after meeting in London, from Savage to Fenty clothing line and now we are planning the Clara Lionel foundation which this meeting is taking it out of me “Miss Fenty is not with us today are you?” looking up from the desk, a smile played on my face “sorry, just tired. What were you saying?” I have enlisted Seth Meyers again to host the show, he was great last time so why not have him again but I feel so rude ignoring him “I said that it was good that you have finally come out to be lesbian, keep up with us” I laughed out shaking my head “I will cut off this meeting with you, don’t play me, that skype call will be cut off” waving him off “so we will do it at Beverly Hills, I am ok with that” looking down at the paperwork “that is ok, so I will get in contact with the performers I will send out the invitations to the people I want there. Melissa doesn’t know how to invite anyone” looking at Mel “girl, you a whole lie. I invite dick appointments” Melissa laughed at me “be quiet. We will get in contact again sooner to the time, but I am happy with it all. I can’t wait to get fucked up with my loved ones, we going to have fun. I am just chatting the most shit right now, but we will have fun” I have to laugh because I missed most of it by day dreaming “I think it is time for bed for me too” I said to myself.

Pointing at Melissa “you are starting again bitch; I should have left you in California!” Melissa stuck her tongue out at me as she gripped my finger “you bitch” Melissa placed her arm around me “girl, be quiet. You threw shots at me; I took them and threw it back. It’s life whore, we going to turn up huh?” I grinned as Mel and I walked out of the meeting room together “as we do, but I need my bed. Sweet chile I am-” stopped mid conversation as we stepped out of the meeting room and then seeing a surprise “I am unimpressed suddenly” staring at Drake, he is stalking me “you swapped places with Rich? You stalking me now, boy” Melissa is laughing but none of this is funny “I came to have a meeting here too in the next room and I hear that laugh, so I wanted give you a hug” moving away from Mel “my traitor ass friend can do that, thanks. I will meet you all outside” Mel smirked as she hugged Drake “whew, hey boo. You coming to the foundation? How about you perform” I scoffed waving Mel trolling ass off, she isn’t funny. Pushing the door open, this is where Rich is waiting for me “I got the elevator ready for you” Rich is useless, he should have told Drake to fuck off a while ago. Looking behind me sighing out, nice to see he is still hovering around, but I know Mel, she is just playing until I really cuss her out which I won’t because I know she is just playing around, as she does.

Looking at my nails, these need to be done quick because these are a mess. My eyes fluttering up and seeing the idiot himself, he is looking at me like a whole meal but let’s not “you look well” I laughed, I find it funny because I feel like shit “sure daddy” I realised what I just said “no, not in that way but you’re a whole dad now and you can tell. It’s made you more fat” I shrugged, I don’t care “I am a whole ass dad and fat but what is your excuse” the elevator doors opened as I gasped, my mouth open wide as ever “ass” hitting his arm as I stepped off the elevator “how rude!” I half shouted, hearing Drake’ stupid laugh behind me “your people are waiting, bye” walking out of the building, this is simply great. I mean I love my fans but not when they find me, luckily the car is right here. Getting into the car and shuffled over “he makes me laugh” Melissa is laughing still “he’s a joke” resting my head back on the head rest “he’s been there every time, like how the fuck? A meeting? In the same place, sure” I am glad Mel gets that he is a whole weirdo “he needs to go and take care of his son” rolling my eyes as I said, I don’t care to be honest. I said that shit to him at the club about him being a whole ass creep, but he thinks it’s funny, I think he knows I just don’t fuck with that and we are strictly friends now. Not even that actually, he is just there, and everyone thinks we are the best couple on earth “you tired? You have been remarkably busy here boo, I think we need a day off tomorrow” Mel sat here saying we “I have the heels to check out tomorrow though, I will have a little lie I think” I deserve.

How can I tell Mel I hate the fact she is smoking, I don’t even want the smell near me and I have been feeling like this since last week now but I will be remain quiet “mhmmm chile, the drama” Mel said at the side of me, I tend to ignore her most of the time because I am too busy in my own thoughts to care, my escape is my own thoughts my own feelings “I love him but why” now she got my attention “who do you love?” I have to ask now “you love fatty?” Melissa gasped looking away from her phone and at me “bitch, you leave my man alone. And no, I am just reading. It is just on my feed, I am bored, so I read that Chris second baby mother taking him to court, they argued on Instagram and now the world knows. You don’t argue on there, it’s the worst place. I wish he put his head down and be the person he is, it’s messy you know” nodding my head slowly, Mel looked at me and then laughed “you asked, I don’t know. You still don’t’ believe me but I didn’t invite him for you to get your pussy turned out, it was just because he is a friend, I was happy to see him. You just took it as a dick appointment, you still ain’t explain what happen in the bedroom?” waving Mel off, I am not about to explain something that I don’t really remember myself, I just felt good in the morning though, I needed it. I am glad to be back at the apartment complex “Rihanna” Rich said, getting up from the seat as I stepped out and I just felt it instantly, grabbing Rich’ jacket feeling very faint “are you ok?” falling back sitting on the floor of the car “Robz” vaguely hearing Mel in the background saying.

“What the fuck!” Mel shouted in my face as I opened my eyes “don’t move too quick” I am so confused, I could have sworn I was getting out of the car “Robz” feeling Mel hold my hand “we are going to see someone now, I called ahead to the private hospital and we going. I was so scared; I feel so bad. You are just overworking so much but let’s get checked out, how do you feel?” looking around me in horror “just take deep breaths” Mel moved my hair back “I don’t know” I breathed out “I just felt myself go, like my body give out. I just feel so weak now, nobody saw me?” I am not going to be happy if people saw me, I don’t want to be on the headlines “no, Rich and I literally pulled you back into the car, so nobody saw. Oh my god, you got me shaking here bitch, what the fuck. Did you not eat?” I shook my head in confusion “let’s go back to the apartment, I just need to sleep” all this fussing is for nothing “no! I Do not care, you have been talking about this so we getting you checked out, maybe you need something to boost your immune system, I don’t know bitch just let us get you checked out and then checked back out to go back” I am actually shook that happened to me, I have never had that happen to me.

I feel a little shaken up that this has happened to me, I don’t want to be sat on a hospital bed, I feel it is too dramatic because I am not that bad I am ok “hello, I am doctor Khan” seeing this elder gentleman walk in “hi” I feel so awkward but he looked at me like any other patient “don’t worry nobody knows, only my reception know you are here and me. This is all private” watching him pull up a chair “thank you, is it really necessary for me to be on this bed? I mean I am ok now; I was feeling tired. I was working hard, it’s never happened. My friend is being dramatic” he smiled at me, such a warm smile which made me feel comfortable “precaution, your friend is right. So tell me, what happened. The lead up to this mishap?” licking my lips taking in a deep breath staring ahead of me “well I have complained a little of feeling very tired, drained but that is because I have a lot of business meetings, lots of ventures going on, I am on a jet here and there but I have done this before, I am fine. Maybe I am pushing myself, I would say last week I have been feeling more tired then I do, but it’s nothing” looking back at the doctor “have you recently been put off things? Food?” he asked “smoke, I smoke a lot and drink, I like my drink but it’s just not hitting right which is no problem” he cleared his throat “and may I ask, when was your last cycle and are you sexually active?” I wish he didn’t “erm, I wouldn’t say I am sexually active. I had sex and he wore a condom, one hundred percent he did, and I am late but that is stress. I feel I have lost weight too” he is judging me, I feel it “well, I will need a Urine sample and some blood, we can find out what is happening ok?” he got up from his seat, resting my head back rolling my eyes.

Mel is a jumpy bitch, this is all her faut and she has ditched me here like where the fuck are you “sorry” Mel said as she came back into the room “you should be, where did you go?” I am annoyed with her “they have taken blood from me and my urine, and you weren’t here” Melissa cooed out with such a smile “I am here now, I called Debbie and Jen, I had told them why we didn’t come. They were worried and I had to calm them that let’s not fuss. Robz is ok she is stressed out about things, it’s fine so what did he say?” I do not want everyone to know “that you are right to bring me here as a precaution and just do some tests to see what is the fuck up” I am actually so very livid “I guess it is karma, this is karma for judging someone’s life on the jet. I been saying how messy Chris’ life is, the fact I told him to go. I been judging, god don’t like ugly and I was being that. I can’t wait to just go!” I huffed out, I a panicking too because I don’t want anyone peaking a photo of me here but this hospital seems very quiet, only a nurse or Doctor Khan comes in here, other then that nobody does so all is well, I hope.

I can’t believe that actually happened to me, I just want to go now “sorry for the delay Miss Fenty” that is great “you just came in time, I was about to walk out. I was bored of waiting” I joked, I wasn’t going to leave because Mel wouldn’t let me do anything “well I have your results so you don’t want to run away now” watching him bring the chair over “so we have some interesting results here” furrowing my eyebrows so there is an issue then “oh” this is not good at all “so we have the results for both Urine and Blood, which show your  hCG levels around a thousand and eighty. So, your hCG is what stimulates a female to release an egg. It is showing that you are pregnant Miss Fenty, so the hormone changes are because of that” pulling a face at the doctor and sniggered “excuse me what? I am not, I have been drinking and smoking, I haven’t had sex either. What, I had sex once and that was with a condom I put on him, so that is wrong” I pointed “what the fuck Robyn?” Mel said, he looked at the paper “the results show that you are pregnant, we checked over again. I can’t say how it happened, only you know that but that is always that percentage even when practicing safe sex. The feelings you are getting is because you are on your first trimester of pregnancy, it looks to be very early on” it’s like the world has stopped and frozen in time, deep inside of me I was scared of this because of my late period but I didn’t want it to be true, I feel like I have been slapped in the face “this can’t happen” my voice broke, I paused to gather myself “this can’t happen, I want it gone” I pointed at him “Miss Fenty-” he got cut off “woah, Robz. We are all a little shocked but just wait a moment” Mel grabbed my hand, staring at Mel in fear “I am scared, you know why. This can’t be it; it can’t happen you and I both know” pushing at Mel, she grabbed my hands “no, this is not it” shaking my head as a tear fell.

The doctor left the room giving us room “fuck me Robyn, you pregnant by him?” Mel sat on the edge of the bed “I played with the devil and I judged him, and this is god getting me back, I can’t have this. Let me just get rid of it and then it will be another secret we both know, and we take it with us to the grave, Mel I am right. This can’t happen, it can’t happen. There is too much out there for me against me with this” Mel placed her head in her hands “this will be your second baby you got rid of with him, I just think. Oh my god, you are not young to be doing that, then you were both so young so of course you can just get rid. What if this is your chance, I don’t know. I just think you need to calm down, you really weren’t fucking careful. What the fuck, you have fucked him before and didn’t” this cannot happen, I don’t know what Mel wants me to do “I took the morning after pill, I knew we wasn’t using a condom. I was aware, that is what I didn’t do. I didn’t take the pill but it can be all fixed if you support me in this, this secret. I will be his third baby mother, he is a mess and this will push him over the edge and me” wiping the tears that fell “it kills me that I am reacting this way because I do want that but the bigger picture” a sob left my lips “I think, I think we need Monica involved. I just think you are giving back a gift god gave you no matter the dad!” Mel got her phone out from her pocket “if Monica tells you get rid, then do it but you need to clear your mind and not jump. I am just shaking right now, how stupid can you fucking be! You were acting out! Girl” she is shaking how does she think I feel “it’s ringing, she will think it’s me now” taking Melissa’ phone from her “calm down” Mel held my free hand “hello” it was instant, to hear her voice. I am a mess already “Robyn? What is wrong?” my mother’ voice on the phone, ever so concerned “I need you,” I managed to say.

[blindrapture]

here’s some Ulysses

[ ] brackets are my notes. ( ) parentheses are the original stage directions. [Stephen is here at a brothel with “friend” Lynch. Kitty and Zoe are prostitutes. Stephen has been playing church music on piano, drunk off his ass. Click here for the song he’s playing, which scholars somehow managed to figure out. “The Cap” mentioned is Lynch’s cap. There is no prior context given to Stephen’s monologue. This is like fifty pages into the Circe chapter, not even halfway. Bloom has just entered the room, as have “we” the reader.]

(Kitty Ricketts bends her head. Her boa uncoils, slides, glides over her shoulder, back, arm, chair to the ground. Lynch lifts the curled catterpillar on his wand. She snakes her neck, nestling. Stephen glances behind at the squatted figure with its cap back to the front.)

STEPHEN: As a matter of fact it is of no importance whether Benedetto Marcello found it or made it. The rite is the poet’s rest. It may be an old hymn to Demeter or also illustrate Cœla enarrant gloriam Domini [”The heavens declare the glory of God.”]. It is susceptible of nodes or modes as far apart as hyperphrygian and mixolydian and of texts so divergent as priests haihooping round David’s that is Circe’s or what am I saying Ceres’ altar and David’s tip from the stable to his chief bassoonist about the alrightness of his almightiness. Mais nom de nom, that is another pair of trousers. Jetez la gourme. Faut que jeunesse se passe. [”Sow the wild oats. Youth must pass away.”] (He stops, points at Lynch’s cap, smiles, laughs.) Which side is your knowledge bump?

THE CAP: (With saturnine spleen.) Bah! It is because it is. Woman’s reason. Jewgreek is greekjew. Extremes meet. Death is the highest form of life. Bah!

STEPHEN: You remember fairly accurately all my errors, boasts, mistakes. How long shall I continue to close my eyes to disloyalty? Whetstone!

THE CAP: Bah!

STEPHEN: Here’s another for you. (He frowns.) The reason is because the fundamental and the dominant are separated by the greatest possible interval which...

THE CAP: Which? Finish. You can’t.

STEPHEN: (With an effort.) Interval which. Is the greatest possible ellipse. Consistent with. The ultimate return. The octave. Which.

THE CAP: Which?

(Outside the gramophone begins to blare The Holy City.) [click for audio!]

STEPHEN: (Abruptly.) What went forth to the ends of the world to traverse not itself, God, the sun, Shakespeare, a commercial traveller, having itself traversed in reality itself becomes that self. Wait a moment. Wait a second. Damn that fellow’s noise in the street. Self which it itself was ineluctably preconditioned to become. Ecco!

LYNCH: (With a mocking whinny of laughter grins at Bloom and Zoe Higgins.) What a learned speech, eh?

ZOE: (Briskly.) God help your head, he knows more than you have forgotten.

This may look like an indication of why Circe has taken me so long to parse, but if you’ll believe this, this is easily one of the most straightforward parts of the chapter. I’ve had to expend a lot of effort elsewhere learning how Stephen’s mind works and what bank of knowledge he pulls his allusions from, so bits like this are a goddamn gem of clarity at this point.

Circe, see, deals with themes of magic, hallucination, transformation (since the Homeric Circe transformed Odysseus’s men into pigs). So here, at midnight, Lynch is “transformed” into his Cap, Kitty’s boa is “transformed” into a caterpillar (which Lynch lifts with his wand! like magic wand!), and even just literally speaking the novel is “transformed” into a play. And this chapter is packed full of lines, characters, entire scenes, that seem to come out of nowhere, seem to speak of unknown things, go on for dozens of pages, then abruptly vanish without even a single second of “actual real time” passing. This is used in many ways to allow the dead to speak, as if ghosts, sometimes speaking to specific characters but often seeming to speak directly to the reader. Reality and fantasy are very hard to delineate here. How much of the fantasy, like, represented something that actually happened, like a memory in Bloom’s head or an inanimate object personified? And how much of it does not represent but stands on its own, indicates something? That’s the hard part. And that’s why the above passage is refreshing to me, because all of it seems straightforward-- Stephen speaks, Lynch replies (”through” his cap).

Incidentally, most of Stephen’s speech here revolves around music, which is why I went and included those links for reference. He’s more or less describing what chord intervals were traditionally said to represent, at least in religious music (medieval, based on Greek), and he includes a mention that this music is meant to be able to be interpreted freely, that it can stand for a diverse range of things. Stephen seems to assert that this is a good and impressive thing, while Lynch’s replies seem less than impressed. (TRIVIA: Lynch’s “Jewgreek is Greekjew” apparently refers to some old slang, particularly Irish, where “Jew” meant a practical aesthetic and “Greek” meant a sensual aesthetic. The meek versus the beautiful, respectively. Considering how popular it was to deify Greek intellectualism at the time, this slang definitely contributed to the slurry of antisemitic ideology. Lynch is not being portrayed favourably here. Especially since Bloom is in the room.)

But it’s Stephen’s last bit which really gets me going. Let me quote it again for emphasis:

What went forth to the ends of the world to traverse not itself, God, the sun, Shakespeare, a commercial traveller, having itself traversed in reality itself becomes that self.

For one thing there’s some transformation motif there, though the theological undertones suggest it’s something closer to transubstantiation. Note “a commercial traveller,” which, unbeknownst to Stephen, describes Bloom. But like. The idea being described here. To go forth to the ends of the world-- the extremes, the boundaries, the limits, the edges suggesting an unknown beyond even the “unknown” parts of the Earth! Or, if you like, to go forth to the ends of yourself, even past all the parts of yourself which are currently unknown to you, and to find that which is not you. And then to traverse that. To go forth and traverse that which is not yourself, and to be transformed into that which you have traversed.

Like. That’s. That’s some proper metaphysics there. That’s taking Catholic basis (God becoming incarnate as human, traversing humanity, all so he, a non-human, can speak for and die for humanity) and following it through to a pretty apotheotic conclusion. That’s suggesting that belief in God, when allowed to be explored and developed, implies a desire to become as God. (Which doesn’t have to be as blasphemous as it sounds. One can interpret entry into Heaven as becoming one with God, after all.) Just as a belief in power (as an acceptable defensible part of this world) implies a desire to become powerful. If the poor were to defend the rich, it would imply a desire to become rich. Conversely, if the rich were to defend and believe in the poor, it would imply awareness that even they can easily become poor.

Furthermore, I’d even say Bloom is as Irish as his neighbours are because Bloom has traversed Ireland as something outside himself, perhaps in a way his neighbours never did. The outsider, in traversing the inside, becomes the insider. And so what does that mean for the reader who traverses Ulysses?

...I won’t answer that question for you. Instead, I will quote Lynch from earlier in the chapter: “Pornosophical philotheology. Metaphysics in Mecklenburgh street!”

Anyway. I can’t claim this is definitely what Joyce intended. But is this the kind of thought he would welcome in his readers? Absolutely. I mean, his works are public domain now anyway, so his exact intentions aren’t as important as the implications of the words and systems that are there. And is this just a shallow introduction to the meat of this succulent feast of a book? Of course it is!

[sk3tch404]

OMGOMGOMGOMG TYSMMMMMM U R SO AMAZING

OHOOOOHOHOOHHO MY FAV RE GAME AND OUR OCS BRO ❤❤❤ HAHAAAAAAAAA IM CONVULSING

JAYCE AND RORY ANGST NOOOOOO. IM SO SAD. THIS JUST MAKES THEIR RELATIONSHIP SADDER 💔 BUT TY LEON AND LUIS ARE SUCH A POWER DUO AND PUTTING MY TWO SILLY BOYS AS THEM JUST MAKES ME 😍😍😍

BRO YOU ARE SO FUCKING REAL FOR JAYCE ONLY HAVING GUM 😭 JAYCE DOESNT ACTUALLY SMOKE BUT HE DOES HAVE SNACKS

*Sigh* Woman 😒 JAYCE YOU BETTER SAY SORRY TO THAT LOVELY LADY /hj (Its okie its mutual hatred)

YESSSS JAYCE WOULD GET SO ATTACHED TO RORY BC THEY'VE BEEN THROUGH A LOT BY THEN AND WOULD HE BE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED. JAYCE DOESN'T THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE WHEN HE'S LOST SOMETHING DEAR TO HIM.

And yes that is the English spelling. Its basically Mackim in Romaji, but its spelled Maxim in English.

I hope Lilith didn't get too hurt getting choked by Jayce in that state 😭 His eyes are so soft but PIERCE THROUGH MY SOUL SOMETIMES. Legit would shyt my pants.

LMFAOOOOOO MAXIM PROB WOULD. ANTON IS THE ONE WHO SNORTS. MAXIM INHALES. (Mostly)

Brain damage + Lung damage = the Volkovs

Omg look at that you have the knight skin and Jayce has the cute mafia skin. How convenient :) HE WOULD NEVER PUT YOU INTO DANGER 💔 (Other than place you with himself)

Omgomgomgomg Elliot as Krauser 😭😭😭 STOOOPPPPPPP YOU ARE PREDICTING TOO MUCH. YOU ARE READING HIM LIKE A BOOK. And he would look cute in a beret 😍

HELP THE TWINS AS THE OLD MEN ITS SO FUNNY. THEY ARE SO STRICT DURING WORK THEY DO ACT LIKE OLD MEN. ITS SO FITTING.

Anton as Salazar bc he's the younger one. Maxim as Saddler bc he is petty asf bro 😕 Annoying ass mfs

AHHHHHAHAHAHAHGHGHGG TYTYTYTYTY YOU AND JAYCE LOOK SO GOOD. BEAUTIFUL, MAJESTIC, FABULOUS, SHOW STOPPING, BREATH TAKING- GOSH YOUR ART STYLE NOM NOM NOM

He looks so evil 🤗 JAYCE WILL STOP AT NOTHING TO GET YOU ALL BETTER SO YOU COULD ONCE AGAIN ENJOY FIXING YOURSELF UP. THE PIG TAILS SHALL BC RESTORED ✊ JUSTICE FOR YOU

Jayce is so fucking sexy augh and you are so fucking adorable help me I have the best mutuals 😩❤

And omg plz go crazy with Rory + Luis. RORY issa mess and i need some fuckboy material for him 😻 AND HEHEHEHEHEH THE TWINS. THeEY ARE SO CULTY ITS KILLS ME. YOU ARE SO RIGHTTTTTTTTT ABT EVERYTHING WHAT.

You know a little too much 🔫 /j

Tw : Blood , Yandere

Jayce x Cupid Re4 Au featuring Lilith

@sk3tch404 Jayce would totally rock Leon’s outfit

Keep reading

[lefeusacre-editions]

VANISHING WITH JOHN | JOHN LURIE — PAR ARTHUR-LOUIS CINGUALTE

Portrait de quelqu’un dont on n’est pas certain de se souvenir 

« a very big actor and musicist that in the world everybody know... between Ray Charles and Brigitte Bardot. » Roberto Benigni

La présence des personnages dans les films de Jim Jarmusch est si incertaine qu’ils semblent constamment en train de disparaître. Si la plupart du temps ils n’y parviennent jamais avant la fin, tout le long durant - qu’ils quittent l’écran ou non une poignée de secondes — chacune de leur apparition demeure pour le spectateur un véritable miracle qui exalte le sentiment lié à leur possible disparition. C’est comme s’ils baissaient le volume sonore de tous les éléments du monde pour pouvoir y passer comme des anges — question d’allure et de tempérament, de ‘cool’, autant au sens physique qu’au sens mystique du terme (là où le ‘cool’ rejoint le ‘Détachement ‘au cœur de la doctrine de Maître Eckart).

C’est inévitable : que ce soit chez Lynch, Wenders ou Scorsese, à chaque fois que John Lurie apparaît dans un film, il le jarmuchise. Et il le fait si bien qu’une fois disparu on se demande si on l’a bien vu (criblée de trous de mémoire, sa filmographie, de fait, est impossible à retenir). La proposition est toutefois encore plus pertinente si on la retourne. De cette façon, qu’il s’agisse de Forest Whitaker, de Johnny Depp, de Bill Murray, ou d’Isaac de Bankolé, est une question qui importe peu : la caméra de Jim Jarmusch les lurise tous automatiquement.

C’est comme si le réalisateur avait occupé tout son temps de pellicule à ne filmer que John Lurie. Happé par sa présence relative, grande et fine, conduite par une voix si 'première', si 'zéro' qu'elle semble sortie des tréfonds de notre tête (si on parvenait à l’enregistrer on se rendrait compte que la voix de Dieu ressemble à s’y méprendre à la sienne), le cinéma du new-yorkais aux cheveux argentés, son rythme, son cadrage, son sens profond et secret a été déterminé par la première fois où son objectif s’est attardé sur le corps du roi des lézards de salon (nom du groupe de Lurie). Après ça, il ne restait plus qu'à dérouler, c’est-à-dire qu'à 'luriser'.

John Lurie, depuis plusieurs années, est gravement malade (maladie de Lyme). La musique lui est tragiquement devenue physiquement insupportable, les plateaux de cinéma une torture. Sa tête entière est à vif, agressée de toutes parts. Retiré de la rumeur urbaine dans les bois pour peindre en autodidacte, il a totalement disparu des écrans et des scènes. C’est donc toute la mesure définitive de sa classe absolue que d’avoir pris le soin de nous accoutumer à sa disparition et de nous avoir laissé de magnifiques albums et de superbes images pour qu’il puisse, lui, vivre comme un ange.

Bobo didn't believe in evolution so God turned him into a flower, 2014

Les titres de ses toiles sont trop beaux pour ne pas en citer une grosse poignée :

Famous errors in hieroglyphics / It’s deeper than you think / Bison / Dismayed with humanity, he considered other life forms / Herbert was concerned Maude would notice his demons / The Monk Loved His Garden, Though Sometimes He Hated it / I have moved to a bucket inside a cave. Do not visit. Thanks / I hate to stand on line / Anchor Is Stuck Now. I Cannot Go Anywhere. Time For A Sandwich / I try to blend in everywhere / King pig turned flowers into language. This was later seen as a mistake / "Ignorance Is Not Only Not Knowing, It Also Includes Not Wanting To Know" / Some Wallflowers Are Evil / Sometimes I let my heart out for a while / Towards the end she would sit on the porch and see things that might not be there. / The King and Queen Of Upper Delightful. / The sky is falling. I am learning to live with it / Bobo didn't believe in evolution so God turned him into a flower / America has lost its damn mind / The Skeleton In My Closet Has Moved Back Out To The Garden / The Four Chrysanthemums of the Apocalype / This man works with seeds. Seeds are good / After she left, he would stand out in the yard at night and quietly say her name / We want the funk, And some other stuff, We want some other stuff, Just normal stuff / You Have The Right To The Pursuit Of Happiness. Good Luck With That / Man Cannot Destroy Nature, Nature Is Too Mean / Decaying blue lynx head / Photograph of someone we are not sure we remember.

My Trip To The Country. Birds Fly Up / Man Protected From Flowers By Flowers / I Am Thankful For My Skeleton. He Is Still In The Garden / Invention of Animals / Please refrain from looking at the elephant / When the giant toothbrush appeared at the edge of  town, no one was sure if it was a sign from God or just one of those weird things that happen / This would make excellent wallpaper for your children's room / Irma had the most stellar ass of all the impalas / And to this day alchemists still carry the blue thing / Thanksgiving Has Been Cancelled. Best Wishes, The Native Americans / There are things you don't know about / Of Course, Animals Have Souls / I can’t get chikungunya because it’s called chikungunya / No Matter Where You Go, There Is Always A Crazy Neighbor / Men going to work over flowers / Deer and Stoplight / Still Life with Disappearing Snake / The Last Thoughts Of What's His Name / Equally Alone.

Comme l’indique certains titres, l’un des motifs le plus récurrent des œuvres de John Lurie (quand ce n’est pas un sujet) est celui de la fleur. Tour à tour hiéroglyphes, algues, tâches, étoiles, etc…, c’est toute une flore alphabétique et presque aquatique, tout un biotope dont Lurie couvre une grande parties de ses toiles avec une délicatesse remarquable. Leur présence paraît si naturelle qu’on en parvient à penser qu’elles étaient déjà là, en germes, que l’emploi particulier qu’il fait de l’aquarelle semble faire fleurir des couleurs, comme le sang fait frétiller une sirène tatouée sur les bras d’un marin, qui ne demandent que ça. Il y a dans les œuvres de Lurie comme l’impossibilité de faire autrement que ce métier de jardinier des couleurs. Chaque forme préalablement imaginée éclos sous l’action photosynthétique du pinceau. Diluer, mouiller, mélanger, répartir c’est faire éclore des graines de couleurs.

Henri Matisse disait qu’Il y a des fleurs partout pour qui veut bien les voir. Chez John Lurie, conformément à la déclaration de l’illustre peintre, la peinture est l’art de faire pousser des fleurs ; ou plutôt, puisque tout y est fleur, elle est l’art de faire fleurir le monde, de l’épiphaniser. Le geste revient à sa magie primitive : le pinceau se fait baguette. Une baguette comme le saxophone, dans une autre mesure l’était autrefois, puisque un cuivre n’est toujours qu’un vase duquel les mélodies jaillissent en bouquets. De la même façon que pour la peinture et la musique, c’est en comparaissant à l’image que fleurit John Lurie, c’est-à-dire que la menace de sa disparition est configurée comme la condition même de son apparition.

King pig turned flowers into language. This was later seen as a mistake. 2014

L’intermittence, l’éphémère, cette façon d’être — comme tous bons pratiquant du swing le savent — toujours à temps, en place et en rythme, de ne jamais rien surinvestir, cette façon de ne jamais peser et de resplendir d’évidence est dans le règne naturel le monopole des fleurs. Cependant comme le signale Shakespeare dans le Sonnet n°94, Les plus douces choses s’aigrissent par l’abus, et les lis qui pourrissent sont plus fétides que les ronces. John Lurie ne fane pas. Et son allure bourgeonne encore c’est parce que le regard, pour compenser les termes de sa disparition qui régissent son apparition, le cueille.

Se laisser cueillir est la véritable mesure des grands artistes. Prélever une fleur, c’est conformément à l’un des titres des peintures de John Lurie, prendre, mentalement, une photographie de quelqu’un dont on n’est pas certain de se souvenir. Le roi cochon transforme les fleurs en langage, dit une autre toile, mais ajoute ce qui sera plus tard considéré comme une erreur — il faut se prévenir de la prétention de faire des bouquets, ils finissent toujours pas pourrir. Ce qu’il faut c’est se souvenir du chemin qui mène au jardin. Et dans ce cas-ci force est de constater qu’on est vernis puisque John Lurie en cultive un qui ne serait être épuisé.

[madness-of-void]

Little Distraction

Also On AO3

Theme: Kids

Based on this post

The thing about accepting a date from some dude that sat next to you in your advanced photography class just because he was cute was...well...

It was a bad idea.

Stiles could tell that all the dude wanted was to get in his pants. Bad. Add a notch to that belt above the fornication bed. Not that he minded. Stiles hadn't been laid in a few years. He was quite surprised by his ability to ignore his libido and breeze by classes like it was nothing.

But he did miss sex. Sorta. He didn't need it, per se. He could live without it. And besides, he liked getting to know people before he decided to share something completely intimate with them.

But this guy, this incredibly cute dude in his advanced photography class, with the dimples and curly red hair and pretty blue eyes, just...no. Nothing fun about him. All he had going for him was the looks. Now, if his efforts were more focused on trying to engage Stiles in some type of interesting conversation rather than attempting to give him a boner from under the table in a fucking public place...

Out of all the first dates Stiles had ever been on, this one had to be the worst.

He had no idea how to get out of this uncomfortable situation. Not a single clue. Sure, he could tell the guy to go have intercourse with a cactus, but he has calmed down a lot since his high school days. He wasn't as much of an ass as he used to be. Though he was definitely considering it. Wasn't like the dude didn't deserve it.

Thankfully, a blessing in disguise showed up.

And what was said blessing?

A baby.

An adorable, rosy cheeked, olive skinned, tousled black haired, stunning golden-green eyed, Gameboy onesie wearing baby.

Instantly, Stiles forgot all about his terrible date. His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped.

Now, Stiles adored babies. They were just so small and cute and innocent and sweet – how could anyone hate them?! His eyes focused with intense joy on the little tyke, even when the father (at least he thinks it is the father) got in the way briefly. All he saw of the maybe dad was the back of his head, which was the same black as the baby, and the fact that the guy was made of muscle. Other than that, the world revolved around the bouncing baby boy in the highchair.

“Oh my god...so cute...” he whispered, leaning in closer.

“I am?” his date asked, a smirk forming.

“Shhhh! Shut up! I'm gonna talk to the little guy.”

“Uhhhh...”

Stiles waved at the baby, grinning like an absolute idiot. “Hello! Hi! Hi there!”

His date proceeded to look even more confused than he was already. Not like Stiles cared. There was a baby behind his date. And Stiles would not be distracted from a baby!

The baby stared back at Stiles, brows furrowed deeply. It was too damn cute! Ugh! Stiles wanted one! He started making faces, ignoring what was likely words of annoyance from his date. He blew up his cheeks, crossed his eyes, and stuck out his tongue.

To his delight, the little tyke squealed happily. Loudly.

Score one for the Stiles!

He started to play peek-a-boo, a classic hit for babies. And, as expected, the little guy loved it. Laughed hysterically! Stiles could feel his chest swell with joy. With pride. This had to be the best thing in creation! Almost better than curly fires! (Which was saying something, because nothing was better than a good batch of curly fries.)

Eventually, the little shrieks of pure, awesome joy pulled the supposed father's attention away from the menu and towards what was making his boy so noisy. Which was when Stiles became slightly distracted. Wasn't hard. Baby daddy was just...just so...unfairly pretty. He could see where the squealing tyke got all his good looks from. Every. Last. Bit. Of. Them.

“I think your date left...” the guy said in a surprisingly soft voice.

Stiles allowed his attention to be pulled away, finding that, in fact, his date had left him. He shrugged, sputtering with no cares to give. Dude's loss. Babies were a godsend!

“He was only in it for the bedroom game, anyway.” he snorted.

The pretty man's face fell, like he felt it was all his fault somehow that Stiles had lost his date.

“No no no no!” He hurried over to the chair his date once occupied, sitting in it backwards and motioning towards the still giggling baby. “It's totally cool, man. The kid is way better of a conversationalist!”

The guy snorted, a smile forming. (Revealing the most adorable bunny teeth, holy hell.) “Thanks, I guess. Sirius is pretty smart for his age.” He turned to the baby, that smile growing as he ran his fingers through the thick mop of black on the child's head. “Aren't you?”

The little guy, Sirius, beamed at him. All gums. All cute.

Stiles held back all the fanboying he wanted to do. Held it in very tight. Because he didn't need to lose his cool now. Later in his dorm would be a-okay! Now? Nope!

“Sirius, huh? Like...Sirius Black? Or like the star?”

Pretty guy's ears went bright red and he flinched lightly. “Um...both?”

“That's awesome, man. He's gonna be the coolest kid in school.” Stiles leaned in a little closer, careful to keep the legs of the chair not too far off the ground. “Isn't that right, little dude?”

Sirius garbled, still all gums smiling. Goddamn...so friggin' cute!

“Derek.”

“H-h-huh?”

“My name?”

“Oh! Oh, dude! Okay! Cool! Uh, I'm Stiles.”

“What kind of name is Stiles?”

“A much safer one than my real name. Trust me. I think only my mom and babcia could say it without tripping.”

“Ah. Polish, I presume?”

Stiles flailed, nearly falling forward. Crisis was adverted, thanks to Mr. Derek. But little Sirius thought it was funny as hell. So...score two for the Stiles.

“You, uh...you know Polish?”

“I know a lot of languages.”

“Oh wow. Neat. I know, like, the bare minimum of Spanish and Polish. Yeah...I've never been real good at learning languages. Though I'm taking sign language at school right now. Doing pretty good in that.”

“School?”

“Don't freak. I'm over twenty-one.”

Derek hummed, looking thoughtful. “What are you going to school for?”

“Photography. With a minor in criminal psychology.”

“Sounds like a tough load.”

“Eh. I like it. I'm being challenged, and I'm also challenging my professors.” Stiles held a finger out for Sirius, scrunching his face up as he grinned. “They're not as good at conversations as you are, little dude.”

Sirius screeched giddily, taking Stiles' finger and attempted to place it in his mouth. Stiles laughed, tempted to lean forward to let the baby nom on his finger. But he knew what would happen if he tried, so he just watched as Sirius fruitlessly tried to pull him towards the mouth.

“He's usually shy...” Derek confessed quietly.

“Wha? Really? He seems like a totally bubbly kid.”

“No. He's...pretty shy. Usually cries when people talk to him.”

“Huh. Guess that means I'm special. But not as special as you, Sirius! Man...someone needs to get you a wand.”

At that, Derek chuckled, ducking his head in order to hide his smile. Score three for the Stiles? Score three for the Stiles!

“So...he yours?”

Derek nodded, a fond gaze directed to Sirius followed. “Yeah. All mine.”

“Where's his mom?”

“In prison. Where she belongs.”

“Ouch. Well, if that's where she belongs, then good. Sirius here doesn't need that kind of bad influence.”

Derek gave Stiles this look. A look that questioned why Stiles didn't ask about his son's mother. Or at least any further. And Stiles wanted to. He really did. But he felt like this was one of those times he needed to put a cap on his overwhelming curiosity. Especially with something that sounded this serious.

“So, how old is the future badass wizard?” he asked, changing the topic quickly.

Tension bled out of Derek, and he smiled as bright as the sun. “He's about five months.”

“Wow! Five months!” Stiles brought his attention back to Sirius, who was staring at him like he was waiting to have the attention returned. “You're such a big boy! Pretty soon, you'll be driving and picking up chicks! Or dudes!”

Sirius giggled, leaning forward in the highchair and slamming his hands down repeatedly.

“Or maybe just collect dogs and cats. Or birds and lizards. Or hamsters and fish. Or rats and guinea pigs. Sometimes pets are way better.”

Sirius giggled more, a little drool slipping out of his gummy smile. Stiles laughed at that, taking a napkin from his table and wiping up the dribble.

“You're really good with kids.” noted Derek.

“Yeah, well, I love them. They're cute. I mean, they can be nightmares, but I still love them.”

“Most people your age don't think like that.”

“Most people my age aren't as intelligent and ambitious as I am. I really fit my Slytherin traits. Minus the shrewd part. I don't even know how to be shrewd. Or maybe I am and don't realize it.”

“Slytherin, huh?” Derek leaned back in his seat, smirking. “Hufflepuff.”

“Dude! No way! You heard that Slytherins and Hufflepuffs are supposed to be the best of friends?!”

“I've heard.”

“Slytherpuffs for the win! Or, as my mom likes to call them, Honey Snakes.”

At this, Derek let out a loud, sunshine laugh. Made Stiles' heart swoop right into his gut. Especially when Sirius joined in, sounding hysterical and gripping at the highchair.

Stiles, for lack of a better term, might be fucked.

~+~

Apparently, Stiles was still a sucker for hot advanced photography class peer. Maybe it was because Sirius' inhumanly pretty father was far out of his league. Like, beyond out of it. So out of it that even if Stiles waltzed right up to him with every quote of love he could muster, and every promise of happiness, and confessing his undying affection for little Sirius...he would still be way bellow the bar of what was in Derek's league.

Which is why Stiles was stupid enough to accept a do-over date with his classmate.

Which he regretted almost five seconds in.

His date thought that rock climbing at the state park was a great idea for a make-up date. A superb idea, actually. Because he would not shut up about it the entire ten minutes it took to drive there. And once they were scaling the wall, Stiles huffing and puffing and swearing profusely under his breath, his date had the gall to invite him for Netflix and Chill after a few rounds on the wall.

Mr. Nice I'll Give You A Second Chance Guy went right over the edge of the wall, and became a splat of goop on the ground.

“Are you serious right now?” Stiles spat, gripping tightly at the colorful and fake rocks.

“What?” his date asked dumbly.

“Netflix and Chill? Really?”

“Well yeah. Do you not like the idea?”

“I would...if it was actually watching Netflix and chilling out on the couch with snacks! Not you, again, trying to get into my fucking pants!”

“Hey!” called the person in charge of the wall from bellow. “There are kids here!”

Stiles glanced down, so not in the mood for any of this shit. “Bite my ass!”

The coordinator, or whatever he was called, gawked at him in horror, while those around him either scowled or snickered. Stiles' date scoffed above him.

“What the hell's wrong with you, dude?”

Stiles opened his mouth to answer, to hiss and curse at this bastard for making him think that he was actually going out with Stiles for more than just sex. Scream it to the heavens so everybody knew what this dick was all about.

But a blessing came.

And that blessing was Derek, walking a bike next to the wall, wearing bike shorts and a tight fitting tank. He was a marvelous site to see from where Stiles was. But nothing could compare to seeing little Sirius. Who was sitting in a neon blue bike carseat, wearing baby sunglasses in the shape of a wolf and a snapsuit that covered up his sensitive arms and legs. And...

“OH MY GOD! HE HAS A TINY BIKE HELMET!”

Of course that caught the attention of everyone nearby. And Sirius noticed him before Derek did. That loud squawk of joy proved it. Derek looked up at the wall, immediately breaking out into a knee destroying grin. He waved at Stiles, while his son smacked his knees repeatedly in excitement. Stiles, the best he could, waved back enthusiastically. Almost fell off the damn wall.

He was certain his date was saying something. Probably along the lines of how Stiles was being distracted by a baby again. But, alas, Stiles was distracted by little Sirius. Again. So, in order to make sure he didn't cause bodily harm to himself, he reclined down the wall. Nearly tripped over himself as he tried to get the equipment off, ecstatic to see Sirius and Derek again.

Especially since he had been thinking about them for days.

Once free, he raced over to them, instantly gripping the sides of the carseat and making noises at Sirius. The tyke screeched happily, keeping his shaking fists close to him. Stiles stuck his tongue out, blowing raspberries. Sirius did the same back.

“Fancy seeing you here.” teased Derek fondly.

Stiles snorted, smirking at the single father. “I'm starting to wonder if you have Stiles Is Having A Bad Date I Must Intervene With My Child senses.”

Derek quirked his brows up, saying a lot more than his words did. “Bad date?”

“Bad date.”

“Same guy?”

“Same guy.”

“Mmmm. Trying to make it up to him? Or is he trying to make it up to you?”

“Well, he was supposed to make it up to me. But then he offered Netflix and Chill. So...needless to say...bad date.”

“What's wrong with watching Netflix and relaxing on the couch or bed with snacks?”

Oh, pure innocence. This man just went up yet another level out of Stiles' league. “Unfortunately, the meaning doesn't translate to that anymore. It means Netflix and Sex, basically.”

Derek wrinkled his nose, as if someone had shoved something rotten in his face. “That doesn't make sense.”

“I know! Really sucks 'cause, dammit, I wanna actually Netflix and actually Chill!”

“Baaaaaaah!” Sirius interjected, now grabbing at one of Stiles' fingers and trying to insert it into his mouth.

“That's right, future wizard! It sucks!”

Sirius grunted, fighting hard to get that finger into his mouth. His father laughed lightly, shoving a binky into his mouth instead. Sirius didn't look the least bit amused, but he took it for what it was worth and just kept Stiles' finger captive. Not like Stiles minded. It kept him away from his very bad date.

“Well, if you want to leave, I was thinking about returning the rental and going out for lunch...” said Derek shyly, ears tinted pink.

Next to Sirius and all other babies in the universe, Stiles decided right there and then that Derek's ears going pink was the cutest thing ever created. So was the shyness. There was no reason for it, since the last time they saw each other they talked for hours on end while making faces and/or noises at the five month old. But it was endearing as hell. So, so endearing.

Stiles slumped dramatically, sighing with relief. “Oh my god, yes! Please take me away from here.”

The single father beamed, ducking his head slightly. “Your wish is my command.”

Oh yeah. Stiles was beyond screwed.

~+~

Life was unfair to him.

Just...so unfair.

Not only had Stiles not bumped into Sirius and Derek since the rock wall date (thank you midterms), but he was swindled into a third date with his classmate. How he was swindled? Oh, it was fairly easy. His so called friends wanted to do a group date, which Stiles agreed to. Group dates could be fun! But what he didn't know, until he arrived to the club with the other half of the group already waiting for them, was that advanced photography classmate was going to be there. And that his friends basically shoved Stiles at him.

He was getting new friends after this.

Fuck them. Fuck them hard. With a cactus.

The minute they entered the club, which was a poor place for a group date, by the way, Stiles stormed away from the group. Right to the bar. If he was going to be stuck here with these dillweeds, he was going to drink like it was going out of style. No dancing. No socializing. Just drinking till he felt wasted, then he was calling a cab to take his drunk ass home. He didn't trust what these assholes would do if he allowed them to 'take care of him' while drunk. Probably toss him over to advanced photography peer and allow him to do whatever he wanted to Stiles.

The very thought made Stiles sick to his stomach.

He made himself very cozy at the bar almost instantly, telling the bartender what was up. She gave him a look of pity, volunteering to call him a cab when she felt he had had enough and would escort him herself to the cab when it came. Even told the other bartenders that Stiles was going to be the only customer she would serve until he went home. That...had to be the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. He breathed out his thanks, to which earned him an adorable smile in return.

She was plain adorable, really. With her little Spirited Away dress and hair tied up into several braids.

(He wasn't going to flirt with her, though. She had a ring. He respected that kind of shit.)

As the night lagged on, he was fortunate that his 'date' barely bothered him. Just came over from time to time, asking if he was ready to dance yet. Each time, Stiles said no. And the bartender, who he learned was named Kira, would glare thunderbolts of death towards the dude. Advanced photography classmate would always huff and pout and stomp off, obviously not used to being told no at a club. But he should be used to Stiles blowing him off. This would be the third time now.

Sadly, Sirius or his dad weren't there to save him.

But Kira was! And Kira was super nice. And a great listener. Maybe a bit of an enabler whenever he would pour out poetry about Sirius and Derek. Especially when he lamented about the fact that he was not remotely close to Derek's league.

“I bet you are. I mean, he lets you near his kid. No guy, or girl, who has a kid would allow someone not in their league to be near their kid. Especially a five month old.”

At this point, Stiles was definitely a little spent. He was swaying slightly on the stool and smiling like a dope. “Really? You think tho?”

“Of course! That is such a young age for a child to be around a stranger. He must really trust you to have you around his son. Especially if the mother is behind bars.”

Huh...Stiles never really thought of that before. Maybe it was because he had only interacted with Sirius and Derek a few times, or his borderline crippling self-doubt, that made him feel that he was nowhere near Derek's league. Maybe he was in Derek's league. And that would mean he would be able to hang around Sirius and Derek all the time! Or, well, most of the time, but still a lot of the time!

Kira was definitely a horrid enabler.

“Okay, you know what?”

The new voice made Stiles groan, his rising happy mood flattening. He turned around to face his so-called date, sourness consuming his face. His date looked furious. Scary furious. For a split second, Stiles felt like he may be in danger. Even with Kira to back him up, who had told him that she used to be a Mixed Martial Arts competitor, he was spooked. He quickly tensed himself up, ready to fight back if he had to.

“What?” he spat back, defiance in his stare.

His 'date' grabbed him by the wrist, yanking him off the stool. Stiles near about screamed, startled by the strength. His heart sped up and all thought process went out the window. He could feel the alcohol lowering his abilities to stand straight and to think properly on how to respond.

He suddenly became incredibly terrified for his life.

“You are going to dance with me. And you're going to dance with me right now.”

The force behind the voice only made Stiles that much more scared. He pulled back, his panic fueling him now. Which was still spotty because of the alcohol.

“N-no!” he tried to say forcefully, but it more or less came out like a terrified child.

His 'date' yanked him again, trying to drag him to the dancing floor. Stiles screamed, attempting poorly to pull away. He could see Kira rushing up to him, ready to help with this assassin glare plastered in her dark eyes. He could also see a lot of other people starting to notice the commotion. So he screamed louder and fought harder, hoping that it would deter this creep and maybe Kira could avoid kicking anyone's ass.

Then, something happened that Stiles did not expect.

Just as Kira approached, fists poised to go, with this jerk raised his own fist to her...someone grabbed at his wrist, holding it in place.

And that person was Derek.

“H-hey! I know you!” Stiles' drunk mind supplied.

Derek gave him a terse smile before twisting advanced photography peer's arm behind his back. The guy cried out, clearly surprised and not happy.

“Hey! Get off me!”

“Let go of Stiles. Now.”

Derek's voice made Stiles' blood run cold. But it was also a bit of a turn on.

(Okay, he was drunk enough.)

Stiles' 'date' spat on Derek's face, which earned gasps from the small crowd that had accumulated around them. Somewhere from that crowd, a woman shouted, “Kick his ass, Der!” And, well, Derek obliged.

He took the creep's other wrist, twisting it away from Stiles and forced behind the back. Then, Derek kneed him in the gut. Advanced photography peer doubled over, swearing with venom. Again, Derek kneed him...right before he handed off the guy to Kira. And Kira went to town before tossing him over to the bouncers. Stiles' 'friends' raced off after the bouncers and his 'date', arguing that Kira and Derek were in the wrong.

Once it was all done, Stiles gawked at Derek like he was some sort of supernatural being. Which, to be honest, the dude had to be! He kept showing up whenever Stiles was having a bad time with his classmate! Maybe he had a sixth sense. A Stiles focused sixth sense.

“You okay?” Derek asked him, swimming in worry.

Stiles nodded, a little disoriented. “Where's your little guy?”

“Stiles...I can't take Sirius to a club.”

“I know..but where is he? I miss 'im.”

At this, Derek ducked his head to hide his smile. But Stiles saw it. There was no way that could be hidden from the Stiles!

“I'll call him a cab, Der.” offered Kira, patting the single father's shoulder.

“Waaaait...you know Derek?”

“I would hope so. I'm his sister-in-law.”

So that's why she was being an enabler! Sneaky sneaky lady. Like a fox.

“It's okay, Kira. I'll take him home. I'm the designated driver for Erica's bacherlorette party, anyway.”

“Is there enough room?”

“I drive a minivan.”

Kira nodded, the words 'good point' lingering in the air. “Well, I'll leave him to you, then.”

“Thanks, Kira.”

“Yeah! Thanks Kira! You're badass!” Stiles echoed, grinning like a dope again.

She bowed, smiling giddily as she pretty much skipped to the bar.

And that's all Stiles remembered. Besides the throwing up near Derek's shoes and passing out.

Next thing he knew, he was being woken up by baby babbles and a tiny hand touching his face. He groaned, trying to get himself put together before opening his eyes. Which was not happening. Not with a splitting headache and stomach flips.

“Sirius...you have to leave Stiles alone, champ.”

Wait...was that Derek's voice? Stiles opened his eyes, his sloppy mess of a self be damned, to see if he was having hallucinations of some kind. Nope. Not any hallucinations. That was Derek, looking so warm in his sweats and burgundy thumb hole sweater, crouching down to scoop up his son away from Stiles. Sirius squawked in protest, making grabby hands at Stiles. The farther he got away from Stiles, the louder Sirius got. Right until the point he started to wail.

“Shhh...Sirius...Stiles is sickie. We have to let him sleep.”

Sirius did not like the explanation, his wailing turning into infuriated cry-screams. Which hurt both Stiles' head and heart. He sat up, feeling dizzy and groggy. Derek noticed immediately that Stiles was awake, and looked ready to apologize for his son. But Stiles didn't let him. Just held out his arms – telling the father that Sirius was more than okay to be near him. Sirius got louder, almost flying out of Derek's hold in order to get to Stiles. Luckily, Derek was a bit more coordinated than that and passed off his son without a tumble.

The very second the little guy was in Stiles' arms, he smothered his face into his shoulder and calmed down. He sniffled here and there, accompanied by bitty hiccups. It was the cutest! It also made Stiles fall in love just a little bit more with this kid.

“He really likes you...” breathed Derek, face soft and vulnerable.

Stiles smiled, rocking the little guy back and forth carefully. “Yeah, well...I really like him. So...”

Derek nodded, looking that much more vulnerable.

Shockingly, Sirius fell asleep on Stiles, which meant that Stiles was not going anywhere. Might as well make some small talk.

“Um...so...this is your place.”

Derek flinched, guilt crossing into the vulnerable. “I...you...you said you didn't want to go back to your place. You were...worried about that guy attacking you in the middle of the night.”

“Mmm...makes sense. I mean...he did scare the hell out of me. I seriously thought he was going to hurt me. At least...I think so. A lot of last night is a blur. Guess that's what happens when you wallow your anger in booze.”

“That'll do it.”

A hesitant, awkward silence fell over them. Only Sirius' breathing filling the room. Then, Derek sat down beside them, staring fondly at his boy.

“He never does that with anyone except me. He won't even do that with his aunts, or his uncle, or my parents.”

“Really? Huh. Guess I'm special.”

“Guess so.”

The silence fell over them again, this time not so awkward. Still hesitant! But not awkward. Then, without any prompting, Derek started leaning in. Stiles leaned in as well. And, before they knew it, they were kissing. Not anything heated or passionate. Just...soft, gentle, sweet, quiet exploring. It was the best kiss Stiles had ever had. So much emotion...so much...trust. He felt like this was some type of honor and he had to respect it whole heartily.

And he would.

He definitely would.

As Derek pulled away, Stiles unconsciously chased. That earned him a kiss on the forehead and a hand running down his arm carefully. It was all so mind blowing. He was half certain that he was in some sort of dream. But Sirius shifting slightly in his hold told him that it wasn't. That it was all very real, and very amazing.

(Amazing was not a strong enough of a word, but that was the best he could think of.)

“Wow...” he whispered, staring deep into Derek's gaze.

Derek grinned like the sun, staring just as deeply into Stiles' eyes. “Yeah. Wow.”

“I, uh, you, you free Friday?”

“Well...I think I can work something out. I'll have to see if someone can watch Sirius for the night.”

“What? No! Bring him! I love star wizard!”

Derek gaped at him, stunned as all hell. “Are-are you sure?”

“Uh, yes? I know that dating you means dating your kid, in a way. And I would love to get to know you two better. Especially Sirius 'cause, no offense, I have fallen in love with your kid. Not in a creeper way! Just...y'know...”

“Stiles...I know what you mean. And thank you. For caring about my son.”

“Of course. I'm not a total douche.” He swallowed, laying back against the cushions. “Now...if you excuse me...I gotta try not to puke all over your kid...”

Derek rolled his eyes, patting his shoulder as he stood. “I'll get you some Coke and crackers.”

“Oh my god, you're a saint.”

“I do my best. And Stiles? Don't puke on my son.”

“I'll try.”

~+~

Their first official date was at the very restaurant they met at. And a lot of it was spent making Sirius giggle and squeal. They did learn some things about each other, but a lot of their attention was directed at Sirius.

The next time they went to that restaurant, it was for Sirius' second birthday. During that little party, Derek and Stiles' families teased them about being together for so long that Sirius was calling Stiles papa. Which wasn't a lie. No matter how many times they tried to correct Sirius, Sirius refused to call Stiles anything other than papa. So, with Sirius' help, Derek sought to fix it with a proposal.

It wasn't until Sirius' third birthday that they went to the restaurant again.

Their family and friends nearly took up the whole place in the celebration, filling the air with joyful noise. As they ate, Stiles announced that he had a very important question for the birthday boy and Derek. It became uncharacteristically quiet, everyone confused.

He didn't leave them in suspense long. That would be too cruel.

He got down on his knees, making it so Sirius was looking down on him. Then, he asked if it was okay if he adopted Sirius – become his official papa instead of step-papa.

“But you are my papa.” Sirius replied simply, like it was such a silly thing to think that Stiles was anything but.

The innocent response caused everyone to sob. Especially Derek, who was so overwhelmed with emotions that he could only nod his approval.

When they came again, Sirius bragged to anyone that would listen that his papa had adopted him and that his name was Sirius Stilinski-Hale.

Also that he was daddy's star and papa's wizard. Because, honestly, he was.

He really was.

[alberteamllc]

Fancy That!

So there I was, your ever-humble narrator, enjoying a pint of something kind of fancy and minding my own business in one of the most chi-chi establishments on the Smallfellow main drag when who should blunder in one but one of those schmucks from the palace where I used to run that hobo operation. Of course he wasn’t in his dopey palace livery, he had on rags practically, which, like, was pretty racist-- this is a nice bar, wine and tapas and everything, look around you buddy, everybody in here but you is a halfling and nobody here has spent less than five silver pieces on their shoes alone, what, do you think all halflings walk around barefoot and eat ten breakfasts a day and live in pastoral squalor? Get real and try educating yourself for a change.

Anyhoo, he ambles up like he’s being sneaky and slips me this envelope. I guess after Prince Whoever had his big temper tantrum last time I went to collect what he owed me (it was embarrassing for him, but even more embarrassing for Ewer-- that moron got his adam’s apple turned to apple sauce that night!) they decided to try the “subtle” approach. Still pathetic. Strictly amateur hour. So I look him in the eye and loudly say “SORRY BUDDY I’M BY ENGAGEMENT ONLY THESE DAYS. IF YOU WANT THE FRANCIS FLIEG EXPERIMENT (my new nom du stage--like it?) I’VE GOT A SET AT THE BELL & WHISTLE FROM SEVEN TO NINE EVERY DAY THIS WEEK. NO ENCORES” but then just for the sake of appearances I take a little peak inside this envelope and holy st. merriwether dear reader did I like what I saw! Never let it be said I’m too stubborn to be receptive to a sudden change of heart. So I treat the bar to a round of the second cheapest champagne the place has and say hey look I’ve got this dry sense of humor sometimes, I really think we can work out a way to do business.

So I decide to indulge in some of that old-school Francis Flisk chicanery and dine and dash just to see what this stuffed shirt does about it. Squat. Good sign-- because I feel like his boss needs me for something illegal, and in most cases dirty money’s easier to get than clean money. Anyway we wind up at this apartment not far away, right on the edge of that human neighborhood, I forget the name, where all the hip young second sons and first daughters who can’t hack it in the dynasty game go to drink expensive coffee and become priests and priestesses of that tacky fucking bank. It’s one of those digs that you know the cops or the government keeps decorated in the most blandly tasteful and lifeless way possible to use for stake-outs and deniability stuff like this.

It turns out this job is my worst nightmare. It’s extremely hard work and barely illegal. Out of the shadows steps this cop. I know the guy. He’s crooked as the road to Schockonote, pardon a folksy halfling saying, the human audiences eat that shit up and it’s become a force of habit. Caowulf Cutty. A real bastard but he’d looked the other way for me plenty of times during my days with the Handsome Lads in exchange for modest kickbacks. But now-- what the hell?-- he’s acting like he’s never met me before and he’s got me pinned to the wall with his elbow at my throat and my feet dangling in the air, calling me criminal scum and this and that. Ok, sure, like he can talk. They make like they’ve got me in some kind of sting-- like, they caught me running tundra tar or something and if I don’t do what they say I’ll blah blah blah but I’m all like, yeah? Prove it. I’m clean, pigs (I’m not). After a while we work out a deal. I’ll keep 10% of the money in that envelope and they’ll stop hassling me about this alleged tundra tar business I did/didn’t do.

It’s like this-- once in awhile when I’m really hard up I’ll do a job for this guy Salomon Six-Fingers. He has a little tavern by the docks, slings this truly appalling sodfish stew but he’s a nice guy, honest, and somehow he’s managed to make a little name for himself running jobs under the nose of the Quiet Guild without getting killed despite being nice and honest. Mostly stuff the Guild couldn’t care about or fail to make overcomplicated because of course. And people work for him because obviously the guild doesn’t get a cut.. Or because they get off on pretending to have morals or professional ethics or whatever. Anyway one of the big things people go to him for is salvage jobs. Old ruins. Humans are too stupid to go into them because they think their precious mediators will pop out and say BOO at them and they’ll piss their britches so it’s good work for us halflings if we can get it.

All this time the dipshit from the palace hasn’t said who he’s working for. Like I don’t know. It rhymes with Rinse Cranselm Brinsatsi. But what they want me to do is they’re gonna leak Six-Fingers word of a ripe little abandoned mine called Sweetroll Hill and say the only thing keeping people out of that sweet ore is the fact that the place is overrun with the infamous Handsome Lads. Ok, yeah, “infamous,” big scary halflings running around with sticks and empty quivers. But I’ll get to that in a second. A little team is assembled-- including yours truly as the thief and the guy who knows the gang, knows the mine (which, I do and do, but again-- presumptuous and racist)-- and then we go and clear it out. But here’s the tricky part. All the way there I’m making little signals, leaving a little trail, and behind me, the fuzz. And on our way out, the triumphant heroes are caught red-handed with armfuls of stolen loot and a pile of dead halflings in their wake. I get off scot-free, the suckers who know about the place are in jail where they can’t blab about the location, and the “mysterious employer” gets to swoop in and take whatever he wants down there. Which sounds like a lot of work but again they wouldn’t drop this tundra tar thing. Oh well. The mine isn’t far and it’s run by a bunch of D-listers. Big-Stud Broly, who’s no Huge Hunk Haglund to say the least, and a snot-nosed little wannabe called Leander Hawthorne. If you want to know how vast and capacious the barrel they’re scraping the bottom of is, they’ve even got a goblin in their crew. I also get to help pick the team.

So obviously I’m presented with a moral quandary. I’m picking people for what’s essentially a suicide run. This is the end of the line for them one way or the other-- if they don’t die on the job (not impossible) or when the cops get rough with them (not unlikely), then they’re headed to prison for a long time. So I think and I think loooong about who I hate enough in this business to make this whole thing really hysterical and satisfying instead of just pretty hysterical and satisfying. I come up with a wish-list:

1. Davey Driftwood: This schmuck shot me with a crossbow once when he was guarding a caravan that me and the boys were trying to get our meat mitts on. He definitely doesn’t remember this but I know he kind of remembers my face because he always gives me this little nod and smile when we’re both at Salomon’s or that little place that gnome runs by the bazaar with the good bread. Couldn’t wait to wipe that goody two-shoes smirk off his face. He’s also some local celebrity upriver in the boonies because he knocked off some nobody bandit a few years ago. Occasionally some hick recognizes him at the bar and buys him one of those watery pee beers trash humans drink. I hate humble guys like that who don’t capitalize on a good thing. And I especially hate people who get famous for doing the cops’ jobs for them and then have the nerve to act like we can still be pals. DEFINITELY on the list.

2. Bloody Bonnie: B l o o d y  F u c k i n  B o n n i e. Ever meet someone who thinks they’re funny? That’s Bonnie. Some land pirate. Dumb term and anyway gnomes invented it. Yeah yeah, gnomes and halflings, different species, and I’d rather cut my own head off than kiss a gnome, but we little guys have to stick together and I hate it when humans bite our rackets. Speaking of which, right, she thinks she’s so funny. I’ve heard all the halfling jokes before and I’ve heard them all again another three dozen times from her. Wouldn’t kick her out of bed though. Had a brief idea about tipping her off before the bust and seeing how puny she thought I was after that.

3. Paolo the Exile: First off, what a joke. Who calls themselves “the Anything.” Can’t stand that bit. Second of all, I hate dwarves. I’ve only met the one but I hate stories about dwarves and I hate Paolo. Too quiet and I don’t like anybody who won’t show their face.

4. Roxan McClintock: People call her “Flinty” but she’s a Roxan through and through. You know these guys, these McClintocks? No, that’s McBEAM idiot, I mean the McCLINTOCKS. But don’t get me started on fucking McBeam. RIght, so-- I was born poor. My dad-- Moldew-- and my ma-- Instke-- they were both poor too. They grew up in tall grass over their heads and they worked until they died from it, because they were stupid. I’m smart. I knew I had to do whatever it took to have a roof over my head, with a chandelier on it, and a bed with eight pillows on it and a girl on each. And look, I’m young, and two out of four ain’t bad! The roof doesn’t leak and the pillows ain’t too shabby themselves! But yeah-- that’s why I degrade myself with these fucking jobs. Because I need to. That’s why I crawl through the dirt and show stupid tourist humans how to get through the swamps. For the money that I DON’T. HAVE. Roxan does all this shit because she “wants to.” Because “she ain’t no high class broad.” Yeah, stick a paintbrush down my throat already. She’s all “hey y’all” and “yeehaw” but Roooooooxaaaaaaaannnn is pure Smallfellow, get it? Her dad’s a university professor, her ugly brothers are university professors, they eat caviar and pear jelly with rich humans all day and wipe their asses with silk hankies. She should know her place and marry some rich tailor and cook fiddlehead fry every night and have a million dumbshit babies who marry rich tailors and so on and so on until they fucking choke on their gold pieces and die. If she wants to bark with the big dogs so much she can go bark in the kennel.

5. Huxley Swallowtail: This guy’s just awful. Just atrocious. Big hat with a feather on it. Pantaloons with stripes. Just the worst. The worst. Opposite problem as McClintock really. He acts like he’s some Seven Fingers of Sin gentleman thief but he’s really just alley trash who made his bones breaking arms for loan sharks and beating up younger kids for their lunch money. You can’t smother trash stink with fancy cologne.

But unfortunately I can’t pick all of these clowns so I write down DAVEY DRIFTWOOD in big block letters on the top of my little sheet of paper and then I roll a dice for the other two. Paolo and Roxan it is. To make a long story short the job goes fine. It gets dicey for a minute because I’m saddled with three incompetents. McClintock makes friends with some revolting hermit and comes back waving around some magic stick and later on they tip off the entire camp somehow and wind up cowering behind boulders. But it works out fine in the end. McClintock is shipped off to Fort Stolas to crack open rocks for the rest of her life-- priceless-- and Davey gets to have his precious reputation dragged through the muck. The best part is the dwarf-- he makes this pitiful “don’t worry about me, run, I’ll hold them off” martyr complex speech and just as they put a dozen windows in his stupid body he can see his friends getting hogtied and hauled away! God I wish he didn’t wear that fucking helmet so I could see his face when he realized he died for literally nothing. Exile, right, exile from reason maybe.

For a few days I’m walking on air. I have money in my pocket, shows booked, and I get to go to sleep dreaming of  McClintock and Driftwood toiling away in their cute little prison pajamas. But then that guy the Octopus shows up at my door. I’d heard stories but the first time I met him actually was the bust at the mine. He was in charge. I didn’t like him. His face didn’t change the entire time-- just straight lines. Before I know it I’m on the ground, can’t move a finger, and he’s telling me I’m coming with him. Well, not much I can do about it. So off we go and I realize we’re rolling up to the palace. I’m terrified. I mean, I’m cooking up a dozen escape plans but I’m a little scared, I’ll admit it. In we go and I’m trying to play it cool and he shoves me in this huge room with a fireplace and portraits of rich humans who look like they have permanent constipation and holy moley it’s the prince himself! Again. The first time I was kind of in awe of him. He knew how to run a good racket. But this time-- well…. I don’t know. On the one hand… I was scared. He didn’t… look right. Something lifeless about him. About his eyes. And that tiara or whatever, which, and I mean I didn’t get a good look, but looked like it was made for an elf head or an especially fat gnome head, it was… on him. Let me back up. It was on him but it shouldn’t have been. It shouldn’t have fit. It… there wasn’t blood but… I don’t… I can’t explain it. I… I was shaking, friend. But on the other hand it was kind of sad. This wasn’t the guy I’d seen knock the smirk right off of Elias Ewer’s face. This was somebody who didn’t know where he was going. You get a sense for that kind of thing in the circles I used to run in. People taking stupid risks and picking pointless fights because they’re just running out their time on this stupid planet and are trying to speed up the process. That was him. He looked exhausted.

But, you know, I tipped back over into scared pretty damn quick because-- oh, hey, this is off the record, right? Ok, good. Right. I tipped back over into scared pretty quick because he bares his teeth just like a dog and he’s on me with a fancy saber, just bludgeoning away with the pommel. I’m on my back with the first hit, because I’m fucking shocked, and then he’s got his legs on either side of me just going to town. I’m-- I’m blubbering like a baby, trying to wave my hands, say no no, get off me, and he’s got me by the lapels slamming me into the floor saying “Leave the McClintocks out of this, leave the McClintocks out of this, you filth, you worm, do not touch them, do not bring them into this” or something like that. Which-- what? Really? They’re well-off by halfling standards but what does he care about a pack of three foot tall hypernerds? But one way or the other he’s practically foaming. It takes that scrawny bodyguard of his to pull him off me. The guy dusts me off himself and walks me outside. He apologizes! He apologizes right to my face. I forget what I say. I don’t remember the rest of the night really. I got drunk. I got really really drunk.

But now he’s dead. Funny how that happens to people who cross me. And McClintock’s out of jail. Look, I can’t get revenge on the prince, because the idiot got to himself first. But when you mess with me and there’s something important to you, I’m going to do what I can to break that thing. And when you’re giving me a concussion while drooling some nobody poser’s name into my face, I don’t forget that name. And she’s not gonna forget mine.

[courtneymayhem]

Found this gem from my trip

March 30, 2017 I am definitely still on CT time even though I only took a short nap when I got here yesterday and went to bed at a decent hour after walking around for 4 hours. I slept until 2 o'clock London time, which is 10am at home. I randomly woke up at 3:30 am and didn't fall asleep until 6am. That's when I sort of decided to skip my Stonehenge day trip. Part of it was avoidance behavior bc I didn't want to interact with my roommates and part of it was discomfort with the idea of navigating so far away from the city. As much as I wanted to see it, I don't really regret sleeping in (a faux pas of traveling). I obviously needed the sleep and I had more time to explore London, which is the reason I am here at all. March 31, 2017 I wanted to walk to Westminster alley and go to the free war museum on the way, but ended up strolling through a beautiful park and ended up walking an hour in the opposite direction through a residential community. I stand by my previous assessment. Observing the locals is by far more stimulating than the tourist spots. Pretty much everyone I met was nice. One gentleman passed by me twice and asked if I lived in the area bc he thought he recognized me. I said no but that we had just walked past each other prior and he smiled and told me to have a nice walk. Wandered around until I wound up in Westminster anyway and only came across two rude Brits. A couple of women who acknowledged my request for directions and proceeded to ignore me. I've seemed to have developed a sense of direction though and didn't need them. The architecture is UNREAL. Dad would love it. My parents are saviors and added the international unlimited plan to my line. It's a little pricey, but essential. I didn't realize how vital my iPhone would be. Citymapper is an absolute lifesaver. And I know my mom tracks my on Find my Friends. My original plan was to buy a local SIM card, as advised by many travel blogs and my cellphone service provider, but it was such a rip off. I misheard the salesman and thought I was getting 1GB of data but it was only 50mb. I used that in one day! And after that I kept getting texts saying the price per additional MB was increasing. Total. B.S. never use Vodafone. April 1, 2017 I continue to wake up at weird hours but am definitely getting better. Had to get up at 830 today to be ready for check out at 10. Hopefully that will put me on a good sleep schedule. And I definitely dehydrated the first two days. I need to be better about filling my water bottles. And eating. I have been in London for...24 hours now, and I have eaten a 6" meatball sub from subway and a chewy granola bar. Half of it was being tired and not hungry and the other part was idk. Currently trying to charge up all my devices. Tourist mistake #1: the outlets here have on/off switches. I have been waiting for my devices to charge for an hour. Never turned on the switch 🙄 glad I have the time to wait. I am going to hop on the bus and check out Buckingham palace before I head to the airport. I have almost all of the money I put in my Oyster card left still bc I have walked everywhere thus far so I want to use it. And I get a little more exploring with limited time. I am only three days into my trip and I already feel like I have learned a lot. Traveling alone is...quiet and a little daunting at times. I have moments of insecurity about my ability to navigate transportation and flights and reservations and money. But it's not as hard as it seems. And I know that I will achieve a new level of confidence by the end of this adventure. I am beginning to realize that this is exactly what I am meant to do at this point in my life. I am where I am supposed to be. *Also April 1, 2017 Jk this day is a wash. Lol. Being my last day in London, I set out to find fish and chips. I have been looking for it since I arrived bc my mom insists that it will change my life, but the tantalizing noms have eluded me. I literally starved myself bc I knew that as soon as I ate something, I would come across it in my travels. FISH AND CHIPS WAS THE ONLY GOAL OF THE DAY! Instead of walking aimlessly, I decided to ride a double decker, an experience in itself. The combination of starvation and motion sickness did me dirty and I puked all over myself and the bus. Luckily my stomach was so empty it was mostly just bile. Obviously I got off the bus. I had to half strip in the street bc the puke got into my camisole and I was in a residential neighborhood with no public restrooms. But I had my whole pack with me so I cleaned myself up pretty well considering. Even that couldn't detour me from my mission to find the fish and chips though and I marched onward. Unfortunately I marched straight into a ghetto ass neighborhood. I didn't feel unsafe per se, but I was definitely on guard. Still, I could find no fish and chips and I worried about my blood sugar so I ate my second subway sub in London. My adventure did bring me to meet a very pleasant gentleman who sat at the table with me. We never even exchanged names, but we talked about the political climate of the world, Brexit and Trump mostly. And when it was clear to him that I was quite lost, he walked me to the train station and directed me to the best route to arrive at Gatwick airport. I had to abandon my fruitless search for fish and chips, but figured it best to cut my losses. I am not even going to bother explaining in detail how I ride the same train up and down the line looking for the airport. It was across the way from a ginormous green field with horses, so of course I was distracted. I got there eventually, and had some pleasant small talk with two beautiful women in the way. Hannah and... I forgot. Hannah reminded me of Caitlin so I remember her. The day continued to suck once I got to the airport. Gatwick has the WORST schematics of any airtime have ever seen. It was hell trying to find the check in counter. Normally I avoid checking in person, and I almost never check luggage, by printing my boarding pass at home, but the airline is Spanish and I couldn't figure out how, even if I did have a printer. Then security tells me I have too many liquids bc they have stricter policies than the US. So I went back to the check in counter. Waited in line. Checked the bag. Had to bring it to the oversized bag place bc it was a backback and might get stuck in the conveyor belt. And all three oversized bag counters had no idea which airline they represented. So that was annoying. AFTER ALL THAT I made it thru security and chilled in the terminal, which looked like a fucking mall and was totally ridiculous, bc the airline wouldn't post the gate for my flight until 30 minutes prior to boarding. Smooth sailing from there tho. Flight was fine. Got my bag and a taxi bc it was too late to try and figure out the transportation. My hostel was...a bit of a startle. I was spoiled in London. At night the location appeared sketchy, and the doorman was...eh. Not rude, but not a ray of sunshine. The key to my door has a certain knack to it that I couldn't really figure out until the next day and the rooms were TINY. Bathrooms weren't a sesspool, nor would I walk barefoot...or touch anything more than necessary. I got a kick out of the shower though. Two tiny little stalls with a curtain for a floor with at least 20 rooms and four people to a room. Fuck modestly tho. A shower is a shower. April 2, 2017 Funny how one day can shake your confidence. I had a sort of crappy day traveling from London to Barcelona yesterday and woke up disheartened today. Didn't really even muster up the enthusiasm to explore until the afternoon. April 3, 2017 Guess I didn't feel like writing yesterday. Glad I got out and about to shake off my funk. Barcelona really is gorgeous!! More beautiful than London by far. I could live very happily here. I only wish Spanish people were friendlier. I smile at people and they give me dirty looks. And the men are pigs. More so than usual. People complain about the prices but I think it's all very reasonable. I bought some fresh fruit, a soda, and a giant bottle of water for 3.4 E and now I'm sitting at a cute little umbrella having the most delicious chicken risotto ever for like ... 13 bucks. Why isn't American food this good?! Even made with frozen veggies, this dish is great. Served under a cabana on a gorgeous strip lined with palm trees. I wasn't particularly hungry but I want to see the nightlife. And show my French roommates that I'm not a shut in. They leave stupid early in the morning and come back crazy late. They probably think I never leave. I obviously do but it's amazing how time slows down when you're exploring. Sometimes it feels like I've been walking around all day but it's only 4 hours. I havent broken my habit of sleeping on. I felt guilty for a while, but I've realized that this is my journey and I can do what I want. I'm not a museum or church touring type. I honestly just enjoy absorbing the atmosphere and casually finding the sights on my own terms. I don't feel rushed and I don't feel like I'm missing out bc so much can be done in a short time. Plus Barcelona never sleeps so I can stay up and out as late as I want. The restaurants don't even close until midnight. The clubs don't even START until 2-3am. Too late for my taste. Thankfully I'm not really a clubber. I haven't even had anything to drink since I left home. It's not in the budget. Speaking of budget, I think I'm doing pretty darn well. All things included I have spent 350 (rounded up about 30 just in case) in 6 days including the first day, which was mostly spent in JFK or in the air. But money was spent so it counts! Well. I have eaten a real meal. Maybe not a traditional Spanish one. Idk. I never know what to order. But I'm going back to my room I think. Tomorrow I should go to the beach. It's literally right down the street. This location really is perfect. April 4, 2017 It wasn't a beach. It was port vell. Which I am only slightly disappointed about. I had no intention of laying on the beach or swimming, but Barcelona has reignited my creativity. I would have love to photograph a beautiful beach. I might attempt to climb montjuic, if I can figure out how to get there. I have heard that it's a brutal climb. Ive also heard the panoramic view is worth the effort. Currently I am sitting on a bench under a balm tree with my back to the ocean eating an orange I bought yesterday. I forgot how much I love the smell of the ocean. So many people are walking by all these beautiful things without really noticing. We take so much for granted in this world. How unappreciative we are to have become desensitized to it all. This is why I wanted to go on this trip. The sights and attractions are great, but it is so rare to find a quiet sense of wonder like I have on a bench at a busy intersection. I crave reaffirmation that life is more than ordinary if I am brave enough to seek out the extraordinary. I want this inner peace to grow strong like a nurtured muscle and always carry it with me. Between the change of diet and exercise, this trip will jump start my journey to a healthier body. And this journal will jump start a a life long journey to a healthier soul. On a lighter subject, my roommates were not French. They were from Belarus and spoke Russian. How I mixed that up I have no idea. They were such a cute couple: Iliad and ??? Literally. They were both hot AF. Their dream is to bike across the US from Atlantic to Pacific. But they left this morning and two new guys checked in. One of them is staying at the hostel bc he just got divorced and was running around to job interviews. Idk anything about the other. He ran away pretty quick. Doubt I'll really get to talk to either bc I'm leaving very late tonight. Sort of dreading the task of finding my way back to the airport. I have spent three days in Barcelona without needing transportation and I would hate to have to purchase a pass now. My moment of introspection is fading. Time to wander some more and continue my quest for inner tranquility. At least I know my way around now without a GPS. I discovered a whole new section of las ramblas! It's all twisty narrow side streets and boutiques. For the first time time flew by. I was in my zone photographing the streets. I love the mix of nature, modern, and traditional. This is probably the main tourist area and I only just discovered it. Lol. It doesn't matter bc nothing caught my eye. Although I did really love this one art gallery I found on a particularly quiet street. It only features local artists and the displays were beautiful! If I had the money and room to show them off I would buy one. I did get a business card however. I also think I made tourist mistake #3. The hostel cleaned out my bunk. I think I was supposed to check out this morning. But whatever. I'm already being charged I'm sure so I might as well stay until tonight. (False: hostel is super chill and let me keep my locker in my room until I'm ready to leave.) I'll chill out at the airport until my flight in the morning. So ready for Paris!! This trip is turning out to be pretty incredible. My favorite spot in Barcelona is a tucked away courtyard garden behind the public library. It smells like jasmine and you can't hear the city. I can tell it is a local hiding spot bc old men come to play life sized chess and students sit on the stone perimeter to do homework. Tourists pass through, but it's too perfect to breeze by IMO. Meandering slowly around the city today has easily been the best of my three days here, each better than the last. Idt it's possible to run out of things to see. Not even tourist areas, but just wandering through the maze of adorable side streets and shops. Every turn is basically a new street but it's impossible to get lost. Technically I didn't "accomplish" anything today, but I think I connected to the city more. Posing in front of monuments does nothing for me. This is where it's at. On the other hand, I'm ready to move on. Barcelona is amazing, but there are many more amazing places to see. Leading up to my departure from the states, everyone kept asking me why I would ever want to travel alone. YOURE A SOLO WOMAN! They would try and reason. Not only does that line of thinking disgust and infuriate me, but I also pity these people. Only someone who has completely shed the comfort of the familiar will understand the freedom that comes with embracing the bumpy road. I've always been laid back, but even I have had to roll with a few punches. Anything can happen: good or bad. It doesn't matter though because it hasn't happened yet. It's awe inspiring to know that I did this. I made this happen. I worked for it, planned it, and I'm doing it. I wish everyone could feel how I feel. It's a subtle, sustaining satisfaction but better than brief bursts of ecstasy. A last minute perusal of las ramblas found a nice Spanish restaurant. It looked authentic like online. Tiny portions of excellent food. Sort of pricey. I got the calamari tapa and 7 rings of fried squid cost 6.5 euros. In all fairness though, it was cut thicker than we do in the US and only lightly battered. It was very good with lemon and I am totally satisfied bc I have eaten close to nothing in a week, with that one exception. I also hailed my first cab! I think I looked like a natural 😉 but I also get the impression that the taxi I took LEAVING the airport when I got here ripped me off. Shouldn't cost 25% more to leave the airport than to get there. Lesson learned. Let's call it travel mistake #4 On to travel mistakes 5 & 6: i messed up the days for my hostel and had to check out (they would have let me stay, but I kinda just wanted to get going) and I got to the airport at 11PM for a 7AM flight. I intended to just nap in the terminal but the airport is taking a siesta. For real. There's no one here. I guess they don't have nighttime flights?!? Whatever. I have my kindle charged and aderall if I need to stay awake. April 5, 2017 Happiness is fleeting so what's the point. Minor existential meltdown in the airport at three AM. Can't decide if any of this is worth it. Enjoying all these beautiful places only really feels good in the present. Bliss becomes depression the moment the wonder of it all wears off and then I'm off to another city. I can't seem to stay present. But I keep trying to recapture happiness. As if happiness really existed. Even strangers ask me why I am so sad. I brush it off like I am tired. In truth I'm just tired of being sad. Omfg. Literally two seconds later and the most perfect song comes on "I hope you dance". Thanks universe. I needed this 😘 b/t the very uplifting songs that keep popping up and a review of the pictures I've taken so far, I think I've figured out why I love photography, amateur it may be. My photos are MINE. I took them bc I saw something inspiring and they always bring that feeling back. It doesn't matter if no one else "gets" them bc they're for me. I think the concept I struggle with is that there are no answers. I like answers. I like knowing how and why things are the way they are. But there is no reason. There is no god or higher power. Happiness is a snapshot. It only takes a second, but you hold onto it to get you through all the bullshit. Eventually your life is a collage of snapshots. And I think that's pretty cool bc they're the only things that matter in the end. So take your happiness while you can and self-sooth when you can't. Am I distancing myself? Omg sleep deprivation fucks me up. That was some heavy shit out of no where. Doesn't matter cause I'm in PARIS BABY!! Literally too tired to muster up an ounce of enthusiasm. I barely remember how I got here from the airport. I have an hour and a half to check in and then I'm sleeping. I can explore Paris at night. God DAYUM. French cops walk around with big guns. Why are all the foreign cops so hot... Went for a late night walk. Grody. Paris is dirty and the men are gross. Crêpe was good. Kinda scary at night. April 6, 2017 Paris has been a disappointment. Totally overrated. I'm glad I can say that I've been here and I have selfies with the Arch de Triumphe and the Effiel tower, but that's it. I didn't connect at all. There was no authenticity imo. I walked around for a good 6 hours and it didn't really impress me in the least. I was more impressed with the most amazing orange I have ever eaten. Literally orgasmic. And i ate a whole baguette. I never knew that bread could taste EVEN BETTER. Both of which I bought from a tiny market a few doors down from my hostel. Even so far removed from the city center, this area is my favorite. It's dirtier than the tourist spots but has more character. I have been propositioned by two men in my 1 + 1/2 days here. Like, really. One rando stopped me on the street and I have no idea what he was talking about. The other was a street artist I bought a couple doodles from. He was talking about how French men are different from American men bc the French make love with their tongue....and then he asked what his chances were. I said none. I was gay and that I was leaving now. I do really love this hostel tho. Might be my favorite. I showered and got pretty to socialize at the downstairs bar but ended up sitting on the canal balcony reading... April 7, 2017 Bit of an annoying mix up with my bus this morning but it worked out. I mean, then we sat in traffic forever and the driver stopped for a break but I'm in no hurry. Lol. Met a nice girl named Catherine. Hung out for the rest of the day. Spent fucking forever walking up and down these hilly streets looking for my hostel in bumfuck nowhere. Found it but decided to just stay closer to town. But god is Brussels beautiful. And the food is so good! April 8, 2017 Total in love with Belgium. 🇧🇪 the modern parts don't overwhelm the historical parts and everything is delicious. I walked around quite a bit with Caroline yesterday and got the lay of the land so today I only needed to retrace our steps to get back to all the fun stuff, plus a few new landmarks I didn't see before. I also spent some time checking out the shops. Thankfully they weren't as artificial as Barcelona or high end as Paris. I even found a cute little chocolate shop. I wish I could have bought the fresh candies in the display case, but they'd never survive until I get home so I bought several large bars for mom, dad, Jim, and Jill. And an extra. Maybe for me. Maybe for Karen or Kat. Idk yet. I should also get Kristina and kai something. She really is such a good person and she has had a hard life. Idk if she even realizes that tho bc it's all she's known. I don't know many people who could survive her life and still be so kind and... spiritual. She has a lot of faith in the universe. So rare nowadays and I love it, if for no other reason than to reflect on my life of relative comfort. And she would be so happy with anything. She just wants that damn penpal tho. I'll do that and pick up a little something. I think that's pretty much the extent of my friends list... lmao I really love this bar I found. Ita called Gecko and it's one of the only places not choked to death by tourists. I've been nursing a 50cl beer for almost two hours and continuing a book I started reading in the park across from the Grand Palace. The music is banging. Totally in my element. A little buzzed with great tunes and a beautiful city around me. This trip is amazing. Although I wasn't going to bc I'm not a waffle person, I do think I will try one before I go. I think I'll regret it if I don't. I didn't eat the waffle. So I went to Amsterdam on an empty tummy full of beer. Arrived late. April 9, 2017 Met two American girls at the hostel breakfast, Rachel and cassie. They are studying abroad in Italy. I might have talked Rachel into being Kristina's pen pal. They were pretty nice. Also ran into my roommate, Stacy, outside the hostel and walked around with her for a while. No where in particular. Just around the park and down some streets. Walked around and just enjoyed the city. The canals are beautiful! I could stroll around all day. I basically did! I walked ~15 miles today, although I did take a much needed, space cookie-induced rest midday. I went back out later to see the red light district at night. Dutch Fuckboy. Enough said. April 10, 2017 I'm ready for a chill day. Woke up tired from being out late with the Fuckboy and wasn't really motivated to explore Amsterdam anymore. I can't believe I only spent one day there and can feel so at home so quickly. Plus, it was really cold and looked like rain coming in so I decided to make the hour + journey to the bus station early. Glad I did bc I made a new friend. The girl sitting next to me in Starbucks was crying quietly so I started talking to her about schools in holland vs the US and whatever else came to mind. It worked. She stopped crying and we chatted for over an hour. Then she told me that she broke up with her boyfriend yesterday and we talked about that. She sincerely appreciated the conversation I think and I feel like I helped someone today. We are FB friends now and I told her that she can always vent to me. I hope she takes me up on my offer. She is a nice person and I know she will do well for herself. Lmao July 26, 2017 Guess I never finished narrating my European saga. Probably bc I went to Berlin next and had too much fun and made too many friends to talk about exsistentialism and philosophy and shit. Regardless, some retrospective musings: Hope I never forget Berlin. I'll definitely go back. Next time I will completely bypass Western Europe and just do the eastern half. Start in Berlin, Prague, Budapest, Slovenia, Croatia, etc. And travel SLOWER. Needed more than 4-5 days for Berlin BY FAR. Could do 10 in Berlin and 7 in Prague probs. Although, I still do want to hit up Ireland and Scotland. Maybe do those two with Iceland as a separate trip. Next year I'm thinking Brazil (already learning Portuguese). And Southeast Asia is on the list for sure. Plus a few smaller, domestic trips for long weekends: Niagra falls, the Caribbean, camping, etc. I definitely require a lot of travel to stay happy and to deal with this bullshit world we live in. I do kind of wish I had someone with the travel bug like me. And that can afford to go/save to go. I definitely battled with the difference between being alone vs being lonely. It was better when I started socializing. Idky i didn't in the beginning. I will see the world one part at a time or until mankind has destroyed everything.