#welcome to the glory that is (drumroll please)

[samstronomy]

hi guys check out me and @munyequitos’ one piece au

find more info under the cut for these 5 specifically and check out muñe’s post for the other five strawhats!! all posts related to this au will be tagged msopms ^_^

luffy met zoro in detention after luffy beat the crap out of namis bullies

after hanging out at luffys house one day the strawhats realize NONE OF THEM CAN COOK and luffys house is FEND FOR YOURSELF so they seek refuge in home ec to find someone who can at least make snacks and. luffy makes a mortal enemy out of sanji for a bit because he used the wrong knife or something

the strawhats are introduced to franky after robin and nami go to high school because they had a class together

luffy finds brook one day in the band room alone and thinks his playing is EPIC SAUCE so he forces this random senior to join a group of freshmen and sophomores (a seniors worst nightmare) (jk he loves them)

as a senior ace introduces jinbe to luffy because “JINBE I NEED YOU TO TAKE CARE OF MY BROTHER WHEN I GO OFF TO COLLEGE 😞😞😞😭😭😭💔💔💔💔”

zoro has a better phone than sanji because he’s RICH and constantly flexes. he was a hype beast for a very short period of time before everyone bullied it out of him. thank god honestly.

sanji has literally a normal ass phone. he uses instagram religiously to post food he makes,

franky has a jailbroken iphone (that didn’t give him a horrible virus somehow) and the novelty of it makes him the coolest by default. also has a bunch of hacked consoles at his house.

brook has a flip phone, not because he was forced to but because he just doesn’t like having an online presence really.

jinbe bought his phone himself and has had it for years without incident. it is literally in PRISTINE condition

i hope you enjoy msopms it’s actually physically pained me to not talk about it for this long. I LOVE IT SO MUCH

[apesoformythoughts]

So, flipping through The Silmarillion, broad strokes (and please correct me if I’m wrong), it looks like after the defeat of Morgoth, Sauron “repented” (perhaps sincerely?) of being Morgoth’s accomplice but avoided his version of surrendering to the authorities out of pride. So he put on (literally) a nice face and traveled throughout Middle-Earth (except where he wasn’t welcome (like Elrond’s)) convincing people to take matters into their own hands for the glory of Middle-Earth. That’s how he eventually convinced some smiths to forge the (drumroll please) rings of power.

So what’s the deal with “commander” Galadriel hunting Sauron down?

EDIT: Ohhh, wait, are they working only with the LOTR appendixes? Nvm, haven’t checked those out. Still, though. I doubt Tolkien would have differed much from himself elsewhere.

[stylesnews]

The fitting climax of Harry Styles’ album-launch bash on Friday night: the moment Stevie Nicks came out to join him for a surprise duet on “Landslide.” “For me, it wouldn’t be an album release without this young lady,” he told a rapt L.A. Forum crowd who’d already heard him debut the fantastic new Fine Line in its entirety. “I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy this as much as me. Please welcome to the stage, Stevie Nicks.” Never one to make a shy entrance, the Gold Dust Woman sashayed regally to the microphone on bootheels half Harry’s heigh, while he raved, “I know—cool, isn’t it?” Their duet was enough to bring down anybody’s mountains, as they held hands and slow-danced. He gazed deep into her eyes to sing the key line, “Can the child in my heart rise above?” The sold-out arena crowd of 18,000 swooned as these two hit their hair-raising harmonies on the final “snoooooow covered hills.”

Harry and Stevie have a long, touching history as everybody’s favorite rock-star friendship. One of the key moments that anointed him as a solo star after the end of One Direction was his 2017 show at Stevie’s old stomping grounds, L.A.’s famous Troubadour, where she joined him to sing “Landslide,’ “The Chain” and “Leather and Lace.” They did “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” last spring when he inducted her into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, with the iconic image of Harry dropping to his knees onstage to hand her the trophy. She called him her “love child” in Rolling Stone. (Mick Fleetwood was in the house tonight, so it was a family affair.) She dedicated “Landslide” to him at London’s Wembley Stadium with Fleetwood Mac in June, fondly calling him “my little muse.” But this duet felt special, celebrating their mutual admiration as well as his new Fine Line: the queen welcoming this prince into the pantheon.

Harry’s show was a triumph all the way through, as he leveled a rapturously screamadelic crowd in arena-slaying glam-rock monster mode. Honestly, Having Sex wiped the floor with Feeling Sad, and it wasn’t even close. “Fine Line Live: One Night Only” was a stand-alone gig, four months before he begins his 2020 world tour. He made the night more than a showcase for the new songs; he made it a celebration of this communal pop tribe he has somehow gathered over the years, reveling in his role as a madman master of benevolent mischief. He peacocked in his finery from the album cover, in a salmon-pink shirt, a pearl necklace and high-waisted white sailor pants. Fans had been camping out all week in the Forum’s parking lot, and nobody showed up in a mood to get mellow. To the surprise of absolutely not one single person, the entire audience sang virtually every line of songs that none of them had heard 24 hours earlier. “I’m baaaack,” Harry announced. “I have more than ten songs now.”

He kicked off with “Golden,” playing guitar hero over the surging Seventies-style Malibu harmonies. (His entrance theme was a spoken-word soundbite from the writer Charlies Bukowski: “To do a dangerous thing with style is what I call art.”) For the first hour, he did all the new tunes, without a dud in the bunch: “Sunflower, Vol. 6,” which seemed like the closest thing to a weak link, turns out to be a gas live. In typical hyperactive starman mode, he twirled, waved, blew kisses, soared in the impossible vocal acrobatics of “Falling.” He seemed amused to note which moments got the biggest responses, especially after “To Be So Lonely,” with its hook, “I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry.” “I have one question,” he said. “For what reason when I call myself an ‘arrogant son of a bitch,’ is that when you sing the loudest? Did you just decide to sing that one line with your whole chest?”

A surprise highlight came when he did the theatrical Pippin-smitten “Treat People With Kindness,” bringing out the pop duo Lucius to sing the chorus. The floor became a dance-off—in one corner, dozens of girls put all their bags and backpacks in one giant pile, so nobody had to worry where their stuff was, and then danced around the pile in a circle that was really moving to behold, an example of how a Harry Styles concert creates crucial moments of utopian unity and shared euphoria. At one point, he told the audience, “There’s nothing that makes me more hopeful than standing in front of you. Thank you for that. You absolutely changed my life.”

His ace band brought Fine Line’s wide range of emotions to life. “Canyon Moon” accelerated into a buckskin-fringe hippie hoedown that Crosby, Stills and Nash would have shaved their sideburns for. “Cherry” might be the album’s darkest and rawest moment, with its stark confession of jealousy. (“I confess I can tell that you are at your best / I’m selfish so I’m hating it” is really going all the way down.) But it’s also the prettiest, and tonight “Cherry” became a country-rock ballad with Sarah Jones’ drumrolls and plaintive pedal-steel flourishes from guitar wizard Mitch Rowland, who Harry playfully introduced at rehearsals as “Mr. Mysterious!” “Fine Line” ended on a grand note—the six-minute ballad has the introspective vibe of the final scene of Fleabag, as Phoebe Waller-Bridge takes that long slow lonesome walk home.

The night ended with a five-song victory lap, kicking off with “Sign of the Times,” the glam love-and-death piano ballad that began his solo career with a bang, and ending with the cataclysmic rocker “Kiwi,” which got a metallic new Iron Maiden-style intro. He did his slow dance with Stevie Nicks—finally, the rock & roll queen meets a real king who can handle. He busted out another surprise tribute to one of his classic-rock idols: Sir Paul McCartney. For some reason, “Wonderful Christmastime” sounds positively brilliant as a Harry song; a storm of tinsel confetti snow fell on the audience during what felt like several hundred repetitions of that “siiiim-ply haaaaa-ving” chant.

As he declared at the end, “The album is yours. I am yours. I couldn’t ask for a more incredible group of people to play my music for.” (The exit music: Van Morrison’s “Madame George.”) But there was an extra emotional edge to his version of One Direction’s 2011 debut hit, “What Makes You Beautiful,” revamped into a Stones-style rock groove. Harry’s now got more great songs than he can fit into a solo show. He doesn’t need any padding, any songs he doesn’t passionately want to sing. But it means something to him now to revisit “What Makes You Beautiful,” the hit that started him down the ten-year road to the glories of Fine Line.

As he told me this summer, it’s a toast to the shared history between him and his audience. As he told me this summer, “One of my favorite parts of the show always is playing ‘What Makes You Beautiful.’ Always. It’s not like, ‘I’m not playing *those* songs any more, because this is *me* now.’ I’m saying, ‘No, it’s *all* me.’ If there was any song where I should be saying, ‘I don’t know if I can fucking play that one again,’ that would be the one. So it means so much for me to do it and have us all sing it together. It gets more and more meaningful.” Like the rest of the show, this version of “What Makes You Beautiful” was a celebration of the unique bond between this performer and this audience—and a tribute to how far both have evolved over ten weird years.

[artificialqueens]

A Vampire in Paris, Prologue (Fame x Violet) - Chae

A/N: hey! i’ve been lurking for a while and decided it was about time i contributed. this is a prologue to a long-ish?? Gigi x Crystal fic, and it takes place about 100 years before the actual story so that’s why it’s a different ship. Also, the lack of Famelet recently has been disturbing so here i am!

Summary : Set in the 1920s, Miss Fame is the high-class, high-power CEO of the worlds biggest, and frankly, only fashion brand. She often scouts burlesque clubs for pretty models to take home as well as hire, and happens to find herself at Violet Chachki’s one night… Oh yeah, by the way, Fame and every high status designer in Paris are vampires.

—–

What had brought Miss Fame to the burlesque club was a mystery. Especially because it was a Friday, and she knew it would be packed, and she knew someone would recognize her. She hoped the sunglasses she dawned would conceal her identity enough, but she had a feeling her efforts would end up futile.

She entered the room wearing a boatneck blouse tucked into a leather skirt, and she removed her floor-length overcoat when she stepped inside. The brooch and necklaces around her neck sparkled in the dim light, her sleeveless pale arms hosting no imperfections and the sheer milkiness of her skin causing her to stand out. She removed her hat as well, her icy blonde hair styled in face framing finger waves, her baby hairs stylishly curled around her temples. She was easily the best looking person in the room.

The mistress slinked to a booth in the back as a waiter came up to the table to take her order. 

“Madame, are you sure you’re in the right club?” He was referring to the fact that the performers were women, and it was ‘useless’ for a female to watch another female.

Fame peeked over her sunglasses, the server turning white as he realized who he was talking to. She had been to bars such as this in the past to scout for talent (as well as take them home, and boy was she lucky for that cover up), so it was no surprise that she was here alone. Fame was known for being illusive and independent, and although many protested her position and status, there was not much they could do about it. The woman was undoubtedly powerful and not only ruled the blossoming fashion industry, but had a hand in just about every going-on in Paris. 

With all this said, the waiter apologized for his rudeness and caught the attention of his manager immediately to let him know who their guest was. Fame was immediately brought a glass of Grand Marnier — every bar in the city knew that to be protocol for whenever she was present. The woman loved the way it reminded her of the sweets and delicacies that she once ate when her form of sustenance wasn’t human blood. Her real pick of poison would be Absinthe, but ever since it had been deemed illegal she was forced to choose something else. 

When her name first hit the scene, bar owners would often sit across from Fame and discuss performers that she might want to hire. This practice had inevitably stopped when she went from portrait model to CEO, everyone far too afraid to say something wrong in her presence. And that’s the way she liked it. She was there for her purposes, and the only people she had interest in talking to were the beautiful women she got to seduce. The debutante sipped her drink, watching the empty stage as she waited for someone to come out.

Finally, the name of the next performer was announced —  a name that wouldn’t leave Miss Fame’s head for the next century: Violet Chachki. 

The woman that stepped into the spotlight could only be described as an illustration, or as close to an illustration as humanly possible. Her skin was even whiter than Fame’s (and Fame was dead), which starkly contrasted her raven-black hair, styled in bob-length curls smoothed to her head and pinned together with a sparkly feather fascinator. Her face was small, her greek nose pointed and her eyes squinty and catlike. Her tiny, upturned lips were painted deep red. In the 150-plus years Fame had been alive, she had never seen a visage so strikingly and purely beautiful. She leaned forward on her elbows, entranced by Violet’s movements as she simply walked on stage. Somehow, even sat at the back of the club, the burlesque dancer made eye contact with the vampiress. In those moments, the two seemed to share an energy beyond physical attraction. Fame’s back raised with goosebumps as she realized that she needed to have this woman — not just for the night, not just as a model, but as a part of her life. Forever.

And the performance hadn’t even started, which Fame realized when the jazz band began playing a tune. Violet flounced around the stage in a black leotard, dark feathers pluming out from her hips into a dress shape. Her rhinestone jewelry caught the lights as she began her number, her movements light as air. She pulled off her sheer gloves, also adorned with sparkles, to the beat of the music and cast them aside. Fame’s eyes widened when she noticed the woman had tattoos, a complete and utter rarity among the streets of France. The heiress couldn’t help but imagine her own marks joining the ink on Violet’s skin.

Violet danced with a feather boa before tossing it down to join her gloves. A drumroll started and she turned around, revealing the zipper to her dress that she undid. As a cymbal crashed, she revealed the costume under her costume: a strappy thong, a bejewled corset, and a matching bra. Her waist was unimaginably small, causing Fame to wonder where her body could possibly go in that tiny space. Poor thing must not eat much, she thought. I can relate.

The crowd went wild when the dancer removed her garters and stockings, whipping them around like small lassos and tossing them to the savage gentlemen in the front row. She turned and rocked her hips, letting everyone in the club see the way her ass was flawless in every way, shape, and form. Fame licked her lips, the pain of waiting to have that ass in her manicured hands too much to bear. The corset soon came off as well, revealing that Violet’s actual waist wasn’t much larger than her corseted one. Now was the trick that got the crowd riled up the most — when the burlesque dancer removed her bra, putting her breasts on display in all their glory (well, except for the black glittery pasties). They were small and perky, of course, just like Violet, and it set Fame off. She needed this woman. 

The final part of Violet’s set was dancing around the club, collecting her tips. Fame’s eyes didn’t leave her for a second, making sure no men touched her or even looked at her wrong. If they did, they’d be disposed of soon enough. Violet made her way to where the mistress was sat, making eye contact once again. There was that energy again, the invisible line that bound the two together, and Violet seemed to recognize it, too. Fame pulled out 100 Francs, a healthy amount of money, and waved it towards the performer, beckoning her to come closer. She did, coming up real close to Fame’s face, a move anyone else could have been killed for. But Fame welcomed the close proximity, stopping herself from closing the gap. 

“I want you to meet me here when you’re done, Miss Chachki.”

“I want to meet you here as well, Miss Fame,” Violet winked as she took the money and strode away. Her voice was sultry and airy, very fitting and very sexy.

At the prospect of speaking to the one and only Miss Fame, it didn’t take long for Violet to finish up and get changed. She probably skipped about half the club, but had a feeling these tips wouldn’t matter for much longer. She put on her best set of lingerie, wanting to show Fame how good of a model she was. Only in the back of her head was the idea that she’d be showing off for a different reason, and those were feelings she’d only address if she was forced to.

She made her way to the back of the premises again, her regular clothes disguising her from the clubgoers. Her coat was black, like most of her wardrobe, and was lined with feathers. It swallowed up her figure, but it protected her from the cold. She found Miss Fame’s booth, who patted the empty space next to her, beckoning her to join. Violet could barely contain the buzzing in her chest—an opportunity like this didn’t come just every day. She hung up her jacket on a coat rack and took her place.

“Violet,” Fame started, scanning the beauty’s face. Violet had kept on her makeup, but Fame was eager to kiss off that rouge lipstick. “I’d introduce myself, but you seem to already know of me,” she continued, removing her sunglasses.

Violet was surprised at how gorgeous Fame actually was. It’s not like she’d assumed she was ugly, but the woman’s face shone with a youth and perfect facial structure that didn’t quite line up with how old Violet thought she was. “Of course I know of you, madame—”

“Mademoiselle, please.”

“Oh, I apologize,” Violet’s voice wavered, but she didn’t let herself skip a beat in order to make a good impression. “Mademoiselle, every performer in this city wishes they could meet you. Every person knows of your work. You are stunning, Miss Fame.”

Fame couldn’t help but blush at such a woman calling her ‘stunning—’ well, actually, she couldn’t blush because she had no blood to rush to her cheeks, but if she could she would’ve. “Why, thank you Miss Chachki,” she placed a hand on Violet’s thigh, feeling the human warmth from under her dress. 

Violet shuddered at the contact, a feeling washing over her that she couldn’t quite explain. Her stomach tightened up and her lips were ever-so-slightly parted, the idea that she wanted Fame the only thing she could think. But Fame was a woman, and that was absolute insanity.

“I look forward to working some more with you, so I’m asking you to come spend the night at my penthouse,” Fame suggested. Violet couldn’t help but agree to the prospect, her dingy apartment above the club would barely compare to what awaited her in that home. “I’ll just do some evaluations, and we can get to know each other, hm?” Fame rubbed the spot on Violet’s leg, making the younger girl let out a small sigh. Needy and noisy she is, huh? Fame couldn’t wait to have time with her.

“That sounds wonderful, Mademoiselle,” Violet nodded.

“Amazing, shall we?” Fame scooted out of the booth, conjuring both of their overcoats in her hands and presenting Violet with hers. The fabric was disgustingly cheap compared to what Fame wore. Fame made note to buy her a new jacket like this one, as Violet seemed to adore the color black. 

They exited the bar, Violet asking which way they were to go. Surprisingly, Fame motioned forward into the street, opening the door to a shiny Rolls Royce with a chauffeur sitting up front. Violet climbed in, eyes wide at how expensive the car was, down to the smell. She looked at Fame with a wondrous childlike expression, causing a break in the vampires stony exterior. She smiled, and Violet smiled, and they smiled together because they were happy to be in each other’s presence. 

The entire drive to Fame’s home, her hands were glued on top of Violet’s, relishing in the warm contact. Violet found it adorable and madly attractive how Fame wouldn’t let go, but grew acutely aware that the older girls hands were cold — freezing cold, like there was not one ounce of life in them. Strange.

They were led out of the car and into the grand spinning doors of the apartment complex Fame owned. Most of her models and workers were housed there and she spent a majority of her time living there, managing the many clean-ups that went around town, attempting to find better solutions for obtaining blood, and ruling an entire fucking royal fashion empire. Busy, life was, and this was her only break. 

Without much hesitation, they wound up on the top floor: the penthouse. Great glass windows lined the walls, a perfect view of Paris visible below. Violet stared out of them in awe, her attention turning back to the living room and a portrait hung up on the wall.

“Who’s that?” She asked, gesturing to the painting. It was of another beautiful woman, with tan skin and long dark grey hair. She looked exciting and different, and Violet could’ve sworn she looked familiar.

“Ah, Raja. She is someone very close to me, almost like a mother.”

“She’s not dead, then?”

Fame let out a laugh, covering her mouth to chuckle as she sat on the couch. “Oh no, darling, she’s very much around.”

Violet giggled nervously, perching on the edge of an armchair, a flush of embarrassment dotting her cheeks. “Oh, I see. A mother—is that what you’re trying to be for me? Did she do what you’re going to do?”

Fame blinked, not knowing how to respond. Something was telling her to be upfront about her intentions, the conversion process much easier when the victim had time to calm their nerves. “Well… hopefully I’ll be doing to you what she did to me, yes,” Fame began. “But I was hoping our relationship could be something… different to mother and daughter?”

“Of course! Friends? Sisters?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of lovers, Miss Chachki.”

Violet turned beet red, her arms tensing up and her elbows locking. She responded with curious eyes. “Lovers?”

“I know you are probably not interested in women the same way I am, Violet, but I offered anyway.”

“I don’t know who I’m interested in,” Violet admitted. After years of performing for unruly men, seeing how disgusting they could truly be, her attraction to them had significantly decreased. The pining in her chest never left, however, and ever the hopeless romantic, she’d taken a small interest in women through the years (no matter how much she tried to deny it). “I can say I’m intrigued by whatever you have to offer, though. I meant what I said when I said you were stunning.” 

Fame put her finger over her chin and flicked her eyes over the shape of Violet’s body, the dancer growing hot from the attention. “Come here, ma cherie,” Fame said. Violet did as told, sitting on her own leg to face the other woman. Fame was still surprised how close to her Violet was willing to get, the bond between them only growing more prominent. “I don’t want it to seem like your success is only based on attraction, but if I’m honest, I only brought you here because I’m mesmerized by you, Chachki.”

Violet’s pointed eyebrow raised. “So, you don’t want me to model for you?”

“Of course I want you to model for me, but god, Violet, I’ve been wanting to kiss you since you walked on that stage.”

“I assumed that was the case when you said you wanted to be ‘lovers,’” Violet smirked. “You felt it when I looked at you, right?” 

Fame nodded.

“Is that what love is supposed to feel like?” Violet asked.

Fame nodded.

Violet bit her lip and looked down. “Oh. I guess… well, I guess that was the only time I’ve felt it.”

The vampire lightly took the other girl’s chin and flicked her head up. “Darling, do you want me to show you what love can feel like?”

Violet blushed at the intensity of her stare, already feeling completely roped in. She nodded quickly, Fame closing the gap in between their mouths. At first, Violet’s eyes widened at how cold the other woman’s mouth was, but sighed into the kiss at the sweetness of how she tasted. Fame latched onto the warmth of the human’s lips, caressing her cheek and intertwining their tongues. Violet was still in shock, but welcomed Fame and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. It was a long and passionate kiss, each woman pouring all their feelings for each other into it. Fame finally broke away to Violet’s dismay, the vampire not wanting to take it too far before she couldn’t control herself.

The burlesque dancer felt a deep longing once their mouths had parted, not realizing until then just how much she adored Fame. From the moment she’d seen her in person, she’d adored her. “Mademoiselle-” 

“I know you’d like to continue, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Fame, I don’t care, I just need you to know that I…” The heiress let Violet continue, intrigued. “I think— what’s it called when you know you want to marry someone?”

“You want to marry me?”

“Anything to spend the rest of my life with you, please.”

The corner of Fames lip turned up in a satisfied smile. “Well, that happens to be part of my proposition.”

“Do tell!”

“Have you ever heard of a vampire?”

“… yes?” 

Fame focused her energy on her mouth and her eyes, her natural fangs popping out from her gums and her eyes swirling from their human-blue shade to crimson red irises and pitch black scleras. She was expecting Violet to be afraid, but she wasn’t. In fact, Violet was more fascinated than anything. She’d always been interested in gothic themes and horror novels, and her appearance was already more vampiric than Fame’s. She stared at the transformation in awe, the purpose of this meeting clicking into place.

“Miss Fame, are you suggesting that I spend eternity with you? Like this?”

“Only if it suits you, ma Cherie.”

“It suits me, Fame, oh my lord it suits me,” she grabbed Fame’s cheeks and before the vampire could protest, they were interlocked in another kiss. Violet gently ran her tongue over Fame’s ridiculously sharp teeth. It was so light of a touch, yet it still cut a tiny gash in the muscle. Fame sucked on it, a hint of warm liquid sliding down her throat. Violet’s blood tasted like honey and candy and a hint of liquor, and got Fame hooked immediately, her instincts taking over as she sucked harder. She snapped herself out of it when Violet seemed to mumble, and she realized she needed to focus on the transformation before she drained the younger of blood.

“Darling, turn around,” Fame ordered. The younger complied, sitting with one leg hanging off the couch. Violet took it upon herself to remove her thin dress, finally getting to show Fame the outfit she’d worn for her. Fame ran her teeth across her tongue, hungry for blood and for Violet. The human had taken her hair out of its style, and it now sat just above her shoulders so that Fame had to brush it away. “This is going to hurt a little, but I promise it will feel heavenly soon enough,” Fame stated.

Before Violet could ask what she meant, two sharp pains entered the crook of her shoulder and neck. She let out a wince as Fame began drinking from her. Immediately Violet felt cold, then lightheaded as one did when they lost large amounts of blood. She almost forgot Fame was working some vampire magic and fully expected to pass out, before the cold suddenly disappeared and her senses were regained. She thought it was over, but Fame continued drinking. From the wound on her neck, a familiar need latched itself in the pit of Violet’s stomach — lust. She knew vampires were creatures of the dark and of sex, but didn’t expect the transformation to pool wetness in her panties—which probably wasn’t made any better by the fact that she was attracted so desperately to Fame.

It only took a couple seconds for the need to overtake her, Violet beginning to writhe and her hips grinding uncontrollably upward. Fame sensed this, not surprised as it was a customary part of the transformation, and slid a hand around Violet’s waist and down between her open legs. She massaged the woman’s clit through her panties, a moan escaping through Violet’s lungs. She continued the motion, taking in Violet’s noises and adjusting her position accordingly. She eventually slipped her hand under the cloth of her tiny underwear, beginning a more vigorous stimulation. Violet let out more squeals and moans of pleasure at the feeling, biting her lip to try and stop, but the girl was loud and her jaw hinged open anyway. She was already nearing a climax when Fame slipped a finger inside her, slowly pumping in and out. Violet leaned backwards into Fame as the vampire continued to feed, her pleasure completely numbing her to the pain. She was moaning loud, her thighs tensed and shaking.

“Fame—ah! I think I-I’m gonna—” her last words were drowned with another prolonged moan as Fame hit her sweet spot, which basically released the floodgates as an orgasm overtook Violet’s body. 

Fame sucked up the last drops of blood as Violet came, the girl shuddering and falling limp into the mistress’s arms. The transformation had gone without a hitch, and Fame congratulated herself for drowning out the painful process and answering Violet’s needs. The orgasm mixed with the blood-draining always caused the victims to pass out, which left the magic to do its thing for a while anyway. Technically Fame had killed Violet, similarly to how she did to any person she drank from; but unlike the humans she feasted on, there was a certain amount of focus needed to transform someone. It left Fame deathly tired, but content and probably full for the next few weeks. 

The older vampire gently removed herself from under Violet, finding a blanket and pillow and tucking her in. She stopped by her kitchen and poured a glass of blood that she kept in her refrigerator (newfangled things, really, and extremely useful to a vampire), setting it on the glass coffee table in the living room. She knew Violet would be extremely thirsty when she woke—and she didn’t know when that would be, so better safe than sorry. Drowsy, Fame looked upon her sleeping lover, who seemed incredibly peaceful despite what had just occurred, and smiled. My Violet, she thought, going over to pat her on the head. I hope we go on to make something incredible.

[thestudyfeels]

Now, before you throw your outdated iPhone 4 in the trash and dip, all I ask for is a chance. Tada! That’s it! A chance is all I need to prove that math can truly be fascinating (did reading that make you puke just a little?)

Frankly, I’m not very good at intros. But I am good at math, so let’s jump right in, shall we?

The logic behind the dislike of math is actually ridiculous. It’s a myth. A bigger one than Medusa. Well, at least she had an excuse - those cringey snake hair (tbh, I'm more turned off than scared by them).

And usually, more often than not, this myth has been passed down through our grown-ups, be it parents, a sibling, or some random guy eating burnt popcorn (the guy version of me) at school, because of which they are even the more accepted.

“Math is boring.” “What’s dx, dy anyway? Since when does the alphabet mix in with numbers? They smashed?” Here. Pause and take a moment to think about why you hate math. And also what kind of people you're hanging out with.

Your answer might be something like “because I don’t understand it”. But that’s not the ONLY reason. It’s more of something, say, you never made the effort to understand it. And why was that? Because, heck! Our seniors told us math was going to suck before we even began doing it. They have to be right, RIGHT?

The hate has been coming down since generations. Do you realize now who is to blame? Not math. It’s Adam. He got stuck at 3+3 and started all this drama. Geez, Adam.

In order to truly enjoy doing math, learn to respect + love it. Or, at least have sympathy for it (math has suffered enough, mate. He deserves to get laid too).

All the love, respect, and eye-roll provoking stuff automatically comes when you break a false belief, create a new one in its place, and take hell-bent-for-glory kind of action. This, in fact, is one of the most popular ways in the self-help department of bringing out your inner conqueror (see book recs: here) but we’re going to use it for math. Yay!

To not freak you out, let’s break it into three itsy-bitsy steps. Three steps to loving math, I got you homie. (Also, welcome to the clickbait life, we killin’ it out here.)

STEP ONE: BREAK YOUR LAME-ASS BELIEFS ALREADY, EMILY.

Here’s stepping into psychology 101. The subconscious mind, which began interacting since the moment you were born, picks up beliefs that may or may not be true. It isn’t the judge (perhaps the reason why we are effed up). Your conscious mind, the real judge, only becomes fully mature when you hit puberty and become a desperate hoe. But unfortunately, it’s late to the party. By that time, your subconscious mind is already the prom queen.

Cutting this short, the beliefs that the subconscious mind gathers, they become our truths. Even when they really aren’t. It’s sad but true.

For instance, if you saw your father struggling with accounts or your sis forgetting what tables were, then your subconscious mind might have assumed: ‘math is difficult’, ‘math needs memorizing’, ‘math leads to crying and pain’, ‘eff math’.

Taking action:

Here’s how to get rid of these false beliefs. Journal subconsciously. This means without a stop, without cuts or edits, in a flow. Next, take up each belief and understand that it was just there for providing comfort and safety (yes, we only hold onto beliefs if they give us something in return. Saying math was difficult probably gave Em an excuse not to take action. It generated sympathy and the teacher might’ve offered his free time for extra coaching).

Then, thank those false beliefs (DO NOT turn this into a self-loathing assignment) for providing that comfort and do that “shoo” motion with your hand. It’s time they ran along. Sounds absurd and simple right? It is that simple. Once you make the decision to let go of your old, fake beliefs, they really do leave you for good. Try it out.

STEP TWO: WELCOME THE NEW-NEW, SHINY BELIEFS.

Next up, we go belief shopping. I assume that if you’re reading this, your conscious mind has already come into play. If not… well, hello there kiddo! The shopping cart is not a go-kart, so please stop swinging it around, and yes, Santa is real, you get to keep that belief, but all the other ‘truths’ mommy spoon-fed you? They may or may not be. Finding out is your homework for today (welcome to my class. I teach life, sons).

Taking action:

In this step, you take up each notion and mould it into something newer, truthier (yes this is an actual word even if it sounds like Greek), and shinier. Say, for example, Emily got sick of flunking math and decided to take action (thank you for doing that, Emily. Honestly). Here’s what her journalling would look like:

“I feel dumb while doing math. It’s too difficult for me.”

This becomes: “I’ve been holding a grudge against math since childhood which blind sighted me. This time I'll give it a chance.”

“Math involves difficult calculations, which is way out of my league. For me, getting that Cali guy's number would be easier than pulling up my math grade.”

This becomes: “Through action, and not screwing around, any shit is possible. A math grade is nothing.” Also, I heard, that guy, Liam? He’s gay. Might as well go on a date with math.

This practice does sound a bit silly, but trust me, the more willing you are, the more easily will you be able to conquer math. #SaveMath.

STEP THREE: TAKE HELL-BENT-FOR-GLORY ACTION

Now that the belief breaking and making part is over, here’s the most important one. To do the goddamn math. *Drumroll*

See, nothing comes without the good ol’ hard work. That’s a fact. In the words of Lilly Singh (who is a total queen and an appreciator of cute puppies and good memes) - “The universe respects your changing of fake values for better ones. However, it respects a good hustle even more.” To get better at math, it’s important to actually do it.

Who’s excited?! *crickets chirping*

Ahem, ok. Here are my tips to get better at it:

Practice.    

Math doesn’t even require making notes. Instead, it requires continuous practice. Set aside time to do, say, 10 sums every day, and build up on that. Turn it into a habit so it becomes second nature.

Understanding which way works better.

The fun part about math is that a single sum can be done in ten different ways. 2+2 can be either done by adding two choco chip cookies with two more, or you can just multiply 2 with 2 [ as 2(1+1) = 2(2) = 4 ]. Obviously, the latter works better when you have huge numbers because I know you’re broke and can’t afford cookies (same) and are way too old to go hunting for the cookie jar in your mom's kitchen. Plot twist though, this understanding, again, only comes from practice. So get down to it already.

Increase your speed but don’t compromise on accuracy.

It’s exactly what the title says. What fun is it if mom takes up the entire day to count out the cookies? And then ends up giving you one less cookie than you wanted? It’s the same with doing math. This again comes from practice so…*evil laugh*

Other quick tips (because I like tiny bullet points):

 Don’t use calculators. Stop depending on it and use your mind for once (assuming it isn’t already filled with cat memes).

Get yo’self a timer. Compete with time. If you’re a highly competitive person like me, this will motivate you to work harder and get better.

Every time you see two 2 digit numbers at the same place, (say a car’s no. plate: 2312) add, multiply, and subtract the numbers IN YOUR HEAD. This will improve your basic calculation speed. So 23+12= 35. 23-12=11. 23*12=276. [ as 23(10+2)= 230+46 ].

You can find other tips about math by scrolling through my math tag: (x) (x)

Practice. There’s really no way around that.

Here are some related masterposts if you want to read more:

Conquering biology by yours truly

The math masterpost by @acadehmic

Math resources and links by @ashleigh-studies

Want instant motivation? Here’s my #ThursdayPickup!

Well, it’s a wrap! I post new articles every week (the schedule’s here) so you can follow me if you are into killing the game & conquering life. I’ll do my best to help you in the tough yet amazing journey called life. ✨

If you want to go thru my blog, I would rec picking your choice of post from my masterpost list! Or, if you want to read something insightful on your cosy afternoon while chilling under blankets, I would rec reading one of my interviews. Feeling spoilt for choices? Here’s another! If you want to implement the ideas I share in my masterposts by taking action, take on one of my challenges! + you can also request a blog post! For that, leave your question in my ask box.

I hope you are well, stay strong and conquer life, you conqueror.

- Nandini (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[bloomsoftly]

(fine eyes) in the face of a pretty woman

(this was my first story on AO3—it’s already been posted over there. I just wanted it to be available on tumblr too.)

“That’s it! I’ve got it!”

“Wha—? What the hell, Darce!”Jane exclaimed, smacking her head on the underside of the desk she had been napping under. (Darcy absently noted that Jane’s latest science binge—42 hours straight—was a new record and should be noted on the fancy smart board Stark had insisted on buying them…that ridiculous man. Had he met Jane?)

“Whoops, sorry Janie.” Darcy simultaneously whipped out the emergency strawberry poptart she kept in her purse and offered Jane the cappuccino she’d picked up on her way in to the lab. Two extra shots of espresso, of course. The poptart-coffee combination was a classic misdirect maneuver Darcy often used with Jane, and was almost guaranteed to succeed on days like this when her boss was particularly science-drunk/hungover.

It worked. While there were definite grumbling noises coming from Jane’s workstation, it was unclear whether she was expressing continued frustration over Darcy’s dramatic entrance or satisfaction with her snack. Darcy counted it as a win, either way.

“Okay, so whu ha yoo gah?”Jane garbled around a mouthful of poptart, brushing crumbs off her mis-buttoned flannel shirt.

“Umm, what?” Darcy cocked her head in confusion. Usually Darcy was pretty good at interpreting boss-speak, but that one was a total loss.

Jane swallowed and huffed, “You said ‘I’ve got it.’ What have you got?” She rolled her hands in a ‘get on with it’ gesture.

“OH. Right…I’ve got my New Year’s resolution!”

“Umm, Darce. You do know it’s the…uhh…middle of February, right?” Jane snarked, squinting at her computer to check.

“You know your sass would be more effective if you actually knew the date, right?” Darcy snarked back.

“Wait, I thought you already had a resolution?” Jane asked, neatly sidestepping the barb. “Wasn’t 2017 going to be the year of Darcy I’ll-Not-Eat-One-More-Damned-Cronut Lewis?”

“I gave that shit up after one week. In my defense, have you seen those things? It’s the heavenly gift of sugar and carbs and calories and decadence in all their glory. If you ask me, I showed heroic restraint for even lasting seven days.” If Jane rolled her eyes any harder, Darcy thought she might actually fall right out of her chair.

“Yes, yes, I’m so proud of you,” Jane deadpanned. Ignoring the sarcasm, Darcy preened dramatically. “C’mon, Darce. What’s your new resolution?”

“Drumroll, please!” Darcy threw her hands in the air and gave Jane an expectant side-eye until she caved and half-heartedly drummed her knuckles on the tabletop.

“Soooooo…” Darcy exclaimed, contorting her mouth to draw out the vowel, “in the year of 2017 I hereby declare that I shall…watch every Colin Firth movie ever made!”

“Wait, that’s it?” Jane coughed, spitting up some of her cappuccino. “That’s actually a surprisingly good idea. I mean, you really can’t go wrong with Colin Firth. Honestly, I was expecting something a lot more…nefarious.”

“That’s only in the even years, boss lady, keep up. I have 10 more months to think of the biggest, baddest prank Tony Stark will have never seen coming.”

“Lord help us all,” Jane intoned. “I have never missed Jarvis more—at least he reined you in a little bit. No offense, Friday.”

“None taken, Dr. Foster.”

“Don’t worry, Janie, I’ll give you advance notice so you can dodge the fray! Probably.”

Bringing the conversation back on track, Jane interjected, “Wait, you said all of Colin Firth’s movies. Does that mean you’ll skip Pride and Prejudice? Because that was technically a mini-series.”

“Get out of here with your blasphemous mouth! I will be starting AND ending with that masterpiece.”

“I approve.” Jane nodded solemnly. “I’m assuming I’m free to join?”

Before Darcy could answer, the doors to the lab swooshed open, permitting two visitors to the women’s domain. One was the clearly recognizable form of Captain America, AKA Steve Rogers, AKA the Human Dorito. The other, if Darcy wasn’t mistaken, was the infamous wintry assassin who also happened to be the good Captain’s best friend (and one-time nemesis?). The man in question didn’t look particularly murderous, so Darcy welcomed both men with a grin. Ready to resume her rant on all things Colin Firth, Darcy was sidetracked by Barnes’ answering smile. Who could blame her, though? As if that lopsided smirk wasn’t enough, and then the vision of that mouth transforming into a full-blown smile? Maybe she was staring a little, so what. At least she wasn’t drooling.

Even Steve seemed to be caught by Barnes’ smile, though he appeared more surprised than appreciative. He recovered faster than Darcy, though, shaking his head as if to clear it and said, “Sorry to interrupt, ladies. Buck and I just finished talking to Tony in his lab and I thought I’d bring him by and introduce you.”

Jane offered Barnes (James? Bucky?) a smile and warned, “Stick around here too long, Sergeant Barnes, and someone will put you to work. I always seem to have heavy machinery that needs to be moved somewhere when the Avengers come by.”

“You can call me Bucky, or James, Dr. Foster. And I’m always happy to help. Do ya need anything at the moment?”

Before Jane could respond, Darcy saw her moment and jumped in. “Yes, actually, I have a very serious question. How do you feel about watching a 19th century romance involving 5 sisters, one of the greatest love stories ever told, and a provocative scene involving Colin Firth and a lake?”

Bucky blinked, slowly, and then the most beatific smile Darcy had ever seen swept across his face. Dumbstruck, Darcy could only wonder what on earth she said and how the hell she could elicit that reaction again.

“Doll, I’ve been waiting a very long time to tell ya that I’ll watch anything ya want me to. But I’m hopin’ that ours’ll be one of the greatest love stories ever told.” Holy shit. Holy shit, those words. She knew those words better than anything.

Jane clearly had the same or similar thoughts—her cappuccino (thankfully by now an empty cup) crashing to the floor. “Wait, Darcy, aren’t those…”

A little quicker on the uptake, Steve was already clapping Bucky vigorously on the back and beaming like a proud papa. “See, Buck, I told ya the future wasn’t so bad!”

Trying to avoid exchanging nonstop heart eyes with her soulmate in front of an audience, Darcy held out her hand and suggested, “What do you say we get out of here, soulmate, and I can show you the movie whose plot has been inscribed on your body for the last—ohmigod—hundred years?”

His hand, warm and calloused and perfect, slipped into hers as he declared, “I’ll follow wherever ya lead me, doll.” Yeah, she really needed to get him somewhere private, ASAP. She almost stopped to ask Jane to pinch her and confirm that Bucky Goddamn Barnes was her soulmate, but thought better of it. Maybe she could ask Bucky to do that instead. Upstairs. In private.

Without another word, she squeezed the hand still in hers and dragged him from the lab. “Your place or mine? I’m betting yours is closer and I’d really like to be alone with you right now.” Bucky just winked at her, increasing his stride a little.

As they stepped into the elevator, Darcy heard Jane grumble, “Of course her words referenced Colin Firth. If only everyone could be so lucky.”

The last thing she heard as the doors started to close was Steve’s very confused, “Who is Colin Firth anyway?”

As Bucky leaned down and pressed his warm, slightly chapped lips to hers, coaxing her back against the cool wall of the elevator and surrounding her with his scent (something vaguely outdoorsy, very male, and altogether appealing), she realized she had much better things to think about.

[mostlymetalmayhem-blog]

Best Song Intros

Intros much like chapter 1 of a novel can (and in my opinion SHOULD) give you an idea and a feeling for the rest of the song to remain relevant as well as entice you to hear the song or book out. Kamelot does this perfectly with Forever. Forever as a song kicks off the album in the same fashion. It gives you a great taste of what Karma as an album has to offer and sets the tone.

Forever isnt a slow build. Full powermetal blast at its finest with a very exciting and emotionally driven lead riff carrying you through thunderous drums. The lead tears away to reveal a powerful riff like something you'd find in a climax of a fantasy film score. As the riff resolves it fades into a calm and Roy Khan's vocals take the reigns of the sonic narrative.

Another unique yet oh so satisfying way to kick it off is with a little teaser followed by a full industrial kick in the face. KMFDM delivers with WWIII.

You might think you are about to hear a twangy southern tune "bout that girl got away"... Till suddenly a sound like laser bullets comes out of left field followed by a shredding loud chuggy riff and drums blasts you off your rocking chair and scares Linda Lou away. Industrial on a level you inly get from the top dogs. "I declare war on the world! War in outer space!" Nothing says it better.

During a live show I love the imagery of the song starting with a simple, but energetic guitar riff with a basic drumbeat that just adds a little each time the riff repeats. Just a long and slow seductive build. You can even visualize the banner slowly rolling down behind the band as the intro gets closer to full power. Suddenly when you reach full power a flash of lights hits right with the drums and the guitarists do Flying Eddie's and while the singer does a jump kick. And bam everything comes together. Nobody does this buildup better than Avenged Sevenfold and Hail to the Harlot.

With a toll of a bell the guitar begins while the drums roll out a simple beat with a few drumrolls. Real slow kinda gothic riff from Synister hits us first and then he starts up that cool higher pitched version o the main riff that shreds like a mofo . A progressive intro on a level that metalheads who can't tell you who half the members of Voodoocult are, can even enjoy. The higher pitch drops off with a mini solo that introduces a nasty dirty sounding Thrash riff rips out as we get closer to liftoff. This shredy riff takes us in where the vocals take over.

Imagine your adrenaline kicking off like the sound of guitar playing right before you do something baddass. Like theres a douchebag who wont take a hint from your girlfriend across the room while you were grabbing drinks. As you walk up you feel it get more epic as your fingers dig into your palms in those tight clenched fists. You hear the taste of that metal riff coursing through you and getting louder as you get closer to the hot juicy meat of his face meating Mjolnir's wrath, via you fist. An excellent example would be one of Minneapolis, Minnesota's finest. Boys from my hometown, Black Flood Diesel - This is How We Roll.

Its as simple and powerful as it needs to be. Overdriven guitar with a nice simple riff as though stepping up to bat. Simple tempo drums at first, then then the cymbals, a small moment with only guitar, a drumroll and Bam, your going to the playoffs and hes going face first into the punch bowl. Second guitarist and bassist come in and join the riff, solidifying its power. Everything in this song puts Black Flood Diesels best foot forward. Greg Moog's unique and diverse array of styles really come out in full color to maximize this songs versatility. This could even be used in a Fast and Furious movie during a street race.

Now its time to announce the mighty number 5. In my humble opinion the greatest of all intros. Whether you deem it Metal or hard rock (drumroll please) Welcome Home - Coheed and Cambria.

First its a mysterious accoustic guitar riffthen a wailing wall of sound hits as an electric guitar squeals out the same riff in all its glory. The epic dramatic rise to power featured on the album, "Good Apollo, I'm Burning Star IV: Part I", is shown here. This overly captivating intro ensures your interest in this chapter of Coheed and Cambria.

Walking to the gas station to buy eggs feels like a holy mission from god on par with marching into hell to rend the devils head off with your bare hands. This intro is parallel to Darth Vader walking music.

Please comment below and make sure to like and subscribe

...please no butthole pics.

[missamerichale]

the final encore ...1 and a half years later

And y’all thought I was finished blogging about junior year study abroad. WRONG.

The truth is, I’m the absolute worst and completely forgot to blog entries about two HUGE parts of my study abroad trip (that happened at the very end of the semester). And I keep setting reminders for myself to blog about them, but I guess I kept forgetting, and then today I decided to read through EVERY single blog post about study abroad and saw I had still forgotten and I guess it’s about time that I get my ducks in a line here. We’ve got some catching up to do.

HUGE PART #1: Mom and grandma Mary visiting me in Flo!!!

Seeing my mom and grandma was one of my most favorite mems of all! At this point of my trip, I hadn’t seen any family for almost 3 full months (and if you know me, you know that I didn’t usually go more than 3 weeks in college without visiting home).

I remember almost every moment of this day. It was a Sunday, and the week before finals week. After wandering town to pick up some cute little jars, ribbon, and a bunch of small Italian/foreign chocolates to fill the jars (as a welcome AND mother’s day gift), I arrived at the Florence airport WAY too early to wait for them (I was just way too excited). I probably sat in there for like 1 1/2 hours just staring at the gate waiting for them to wander through. Finally they did, which meant the extravaganzas could BEGIN!!

Mom and grandma got settled into their hotel (which was LITERALLY across the street from my apartment - they could see my apartment door and wave at me), and we spent some time wandering around the city. This night, we had a fabulous mother’s day dinner at La Giostra - one of the more well-known and authentic Italian restaurants in Italy (I have to say authentic because a lot of Italian restaurants were actually very ‘americanized’ for all of the tourists, so it still took some digging to find the authentic places) and took some cute as heck pics in front of the duomo. 

During mom and grandma’s visit, we went through a couple of the museums (saw the David, obvs), and ended up spending a day doing a bus tour throughout the Tuscany countryside where we went to a few quaint little towns and did a wine tasting at an old little farm. We also hiked 414 steps to the top of the bell tower next to the duomo to get a magnificent (my favorite) view of Florence. All of my best pictures were taken from the top of the bell tower, hands down. Mom and grandma also spent a day touring Cinque Terre, but I didn’t join them for that one because I had just gone there with API the weekend before and also I had class, RIP. 

HUGE PART #2: SPAIN TRIP WITH HALES

This one was one for the books!! Hales and I had planned FAR in advance for our two-week adventure through Spain post-school semester in Flo. We ended up leaving Florence/our apartment earlier than some of our roommates, so we said our final goodbyes before heading out on our one last adventure. *crying*

Also keep in mind that during this entire trip we were lugging around ALL of our bags from the entire semester. A.k.a. I had my checked bag, carry on, and backpack, all full to the brim, because since it was post-semester, we weren’t allowed back into our apartment (RIP Via Della Scala 14, I will never forget you). And another RIP goes to Leslie who ended up getting charged an extra $200 by AirFrance on her flight home because of an overweight bag. Overweight bags were inevitable at this point.

Our first flight took us to Madrid. We spent our first few days here, exploring the city, eating great food (per usual), and canoeing in the Madrid park pond while drinking foreign beer (a classic). We ended up meeting up with Anais, one of my good friends who is actually from Paris but studied at my high school as a foreign exchange student for a year way back when. She was studying in Madrid at the time, and I hadn’t seen her for like 4 years, so it was amazing to be able to see her again.

She took us to this tiny little farmer’s market that was actually inside of a 4-story building place (honestly I wouldn’t have known it was a market if she she didn’t bring me there), and we went up to the second floor to get some FRESH white wine and drink it in this outside bar courtyard that was super cute and had string lights and everything.

After that, we grabbed a quick meal at a place that she knew, and we made our last stop at a rooftop bar that was above this museum/business type building, and basically we had to wait outside until the elevator could take us up because we couldn’t just wander around the rest of the building (the non-fun areas, I guess). We all crammed into this teeny tiny elevator and rode all the way to the top, where we each got a mixed drink that was literally the size of each of our heads and hung out overlooking the city of Madrid.

Can I also just say that our hostel in Madrid was completely FIRE! The funniest part was that it was called the “OK Hostel” when really it was way better than just OK (tbt to the “Happy Hostel” in Berlin that was honestly the hostel of our nightmares - read previous blog post for deets). It was super new, and the people there were the nicest of all. They had a coordinated “KO’ed bar crawl” (with free shots included: WOWZA), free breakfast in the morning, and basically just 12/10 I would highly recommend. Hales and I attempted a bar crawl but we learned very quickly that the people in Spain like to go HARD - as in stay out until the wee hours of the morning - and despite trying to fit into the culture to the best of our ability, we ended up giving our leftover free tequila shot tickets to a bridal party and they seemed to be pretty pleased about it.

The next day, Hales and I completed the trip by visiting the Royal Palace of Madrid and wishing we were born into Spanish royalty before hopping on our next flight to...drumroll please...IBIZAAAA! 

Ibiza was not only hype because the song “I took a pill in Ibiza” was extremely popular at this time, but because it was my favorite kind of trip - the trip where we do NOTHING!! No huge plans, no huge tours, just relaxing with some beer on the beach. Our hotel was right off of the main road/beach and right next to a convenience store, which was pretty lit.

Side note: we discovered the Spaniards make beer that is pre-mixed with tequila and HELLO - that became my favorite beach drink of all time.

We literally spent two full days basking in the glory that was Spanish sunshine and buying way too many tequila beers and overpriced margaritas from a shack on the beach. No complaints there.

After we were done relaxing on the beach, flight #3 was in order - to our last Spanish destination: Barcelona!

We rented an Airbnb in Barcelona for the remainder of the week. It was located fairly close to the beach, but in retrospect, Barcelona is a very wide city, so you can’t really be that ‘close’ to anything. The Airbnb was super cute - it was a studio apartment on one of the highest floors. It ended up working very nicely for 80% of the trip. I rate this Airbnb an 8/10 only because we quickly discovered it had a unique infestation. Infestation of LIZARDS.

Jk, there were only like 2 lizards. But actually, I don’t think I could live anywhere tropical for too long because the thought of an actual LIZARD crawling over my body as I sleep gives me shivers to this day. 

We spotted the lizards emerging out of our bathroom area and scurrying around the floor and back into the bathroom, so we ended up shoving a ton of towels under the door to keep them out of our sleeping area (did not give me much comfort, though).

Hales and I were as productive as always during our time in Barcelona. We spent a day walking, walking, walking, all the way up to Park Guell (if you see any pics online, it’s that infamous cute park that sits high above the city that has the really cool colorful benches). We saw the famous La Sagrada Familia church, which was pretty flipping spectacular.

From there, we walked to the highest point in the entire city (one of Haley’s friends knew about it and told us to go, otherwise we wouldn’t have had a clue on how to get there). We had to take back roads and dirt paths and the yellow brick road (lol jk) all the way up to this abandoned fort thing that sat on top of a hill, but you could see all around for MILES. The city looked so so tiny but so magnificent at the same time. High-five, Haley’s friend. One of my top 5 favorite views of study abroad went to your secret little Barcelona hill.

Another day was spent at the beach, my favorite kind of day. The beach in Barcelona was PACKED, though. We lucked out and had a good spot close to the water, but you were basically touching everyone beside you at this place. It was hoppin.

One of our last nights of going out together was definitely one to remember. We decided we were going to drink before going to the bars (in order to try and save some $$), so we had our own little appertivo in the apartment, with meats and cheeses and some of Haley’s famous white-wine sangria (YUM).

We walked to the bar, which ended up being a super cool venue. The entrance was off of the boardwalk on the beach, but upon entering, you took stairs directly into the “basement”, that was actually a walk out bar/club to the beach. We spent all night there drinking a lot of expensive drinks and dancing with some very cute boys from Germany (I think they were from Germany?). Needless to say, I had a great time, but my wallet did not (drinks were so good though - NO ragrets).

Now, it’s time for the best part *imagine fake fireworks shooting off in the background as I say this* THE GRAND FINALE: 

!!!!!!!!!

Jumping out of the sky!

(Sorry, mom and dad.)

Hales and I had actually booked our skydiving tickets before anything else, 3 months prior to the actual event, in hopes that it would ease our nerves if we knew we had to prepare for it. HA

The morning that we woke up to go skydiving, I don’t think we’ve talked less in our lives. We literally just kind of wandered around to get ready like zombies, muttering, “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this. I can’t believe we’re jumping out of the sky today”. The best part was that the location of where we’d be skydiving was actually 1 1/2 hours away from our apartment, and we had to take a train way out in the country where this guy from the skydiving company picked us up in a van and drove us to this field where we were going to meet our fate.

Can I just say this was the ONE day that I could not fall asleep during the train ride, which really says something - because it was becoming pretty natural for us to fall asleep while taking public transportation because we actually never stopped moving the entire semester. 

Can I also just say that when I told my parents about this, my mom was legitimately mad that I was doing it because if I injured myself our insurance wouldn’t cover me overseas, and I’d put the family into bankruptcy, in which I told her not to worry because since I was falling 4000 meters out of the sky, either I would live or I would die, you don’t have to worry about medical expenses, silly mom. :-)

The venue was pretty cool, there was an outdoor seating area with tables and a bar where you could buy food and alcoholic drinks (which we definitely needed after the fact). We waited for about an hour at the venue before our names were called to get into the plane.

These Spanish people were really ‘fly by the night’ kind of folks - and I’m not just saying that because we were about to get in a plane and fly away - but because they literally threw on our straps, told us to keep our head back when jumping out of the plane, and then were just like OKAY LETS GO! I mean, Haley’s tandem skydiver’s name was Jesus, so we were in good hands, right?! (That’s not even a joke, she literally fell out of the sky strapped to Jesus.)

I’m assuming in America, you’d have to take like a 40 minute pre-drop class with safety procedures, rules and watch a standard and very outdated ‘how to skydive’ video for legal purposes, but here they didn’t seem to give two flying (no pun intended) fricks. The next thing we knew, we were walking through this barn onto a dirt runway to get in a plane the size of a couch and jump 4,000 meters out of the sky. Turn up my people!! What a time to be alive am I right!

They somehow managed to fit me, hales, and two other random people that were skydiving without any friends, all of our tandem skydivers, and two extra jumpers who were going to take the video of us jumping to our deaths, into this tiny little plane (as if I already felt like I couldn’t breathe)! :)

The flight up took a good 15 minutes and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous smiling, shaking and contemplating my life decisions the entire time. By the time they swung the door open, I immediately experienced a lot of regret. We were so HIGH!!!! SO HIGH!! And naturally everyone else jumped out of the plane before I did so the anxiety was real by the time my tandem jumper scooted me to the edge. 

From there, I like to tell people that I didn’t jump out of the sky, I actually fell, because my legs were literally limp in fear as my tandem jumper threw our bodies out of the airplane. I spent the first 5 seconds of the jump forgetting how to breathe, and then after that it was pretty much smooth sailing (or smooth ‘falling’). The free fall itself was only 30 seconds, and the rest of the way down we were just cruising in the parachute for about 2-3 minutes. It was less scary than a rollercoaster! Which was a bit crazy to me. 

(To make my current nostalgia even worse, I just re-watched the video of myself falling out of the plane and I just got queazy all over again.) WAHOO! Still one of the best experiences ever, though. No joke, I think I could totally do it again.

Hales and I flew out of Barcelona the next day and back to Florence for one last day around town before taking our respective flights home to the motherland. Our last day in Flo was SO sad because all of our other roommates had already left, and we were in a hotel room and not our apartment, and it was just really heart-wrenching and totally sunk in that the semester was over. We were, however, happy we got to finish the day right with gelato (naturally) and some of our favorite beer (Dragoons) from our favorite (karaoke) bar in Flo, Kikuya. 

Whew. Okay. I think I covered most of everything that I forgot to blog about at the end of the semester.

If you made it to this sentence in the blog post, I applaud you, because that’s a whole lot of text to read. My fingers are ready for a snooze after all of this typing.

Really hoping all of this documentation wasn’t for nothing and these blogs will be able to help jumpstart some of my mems when I try to tell all of these stories to my kids someday :’)

Regretfully signing off ONE MORE final time *still crying*,

Hales