#you keep dropping people like hot coals for expressing things that make you feel 1% micro-aggressed

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

RIP to you but what makes me immune to falling into a cult isn't that I think I'm too smart or moral... It's that I think it would require willingly making myself part of a group of people.

It would seem to require actually speaking to someone, but most of all what makes me immune is that I think the cults are all avoiding me personally, because they don't want me. They only knock on my door once and then never again and I always think it was something I said.

My toxic trait is that I think being sucked into a cult requires being willing to seek or accept human contact, and that it requires a group of people who actually wants you among their numbers [have not found one to date].

[fandomsonrequests]

𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓..? [𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 1]

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: prince! park seonghwa

reader: fem! knight

word count: 1.7k+

summary:  It was time for another Selection. No- not a Selection for a bride but rather a well-trained knight to keep Prince Seonghwa safe after a failed assassination attempt. You, a blacksmith’s daughter, manage to make it to the elite group of knights worthy and skilled enough to protect the crown prince after months and months of training. This alone catches Seonghwa’s eyes- in more ways than one

a/n: so the first part! mind you this is unedited so im sorry if there are any spelling errors or if it sucked. ;^; i’ll try updating every week but please bear with me- class is about to start soon for me :(( Also- I hope you catch the two cameos of two other kpop idols in here ;) 

Please message me if you want to be tagged for the future updates! <3 

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You were always full of surprises.

You surprised your mother with your first kick in the womb while she was tidying your father’s workbench. You surprised your whole family when you came out of the womb as a girl- not as a boy like a village’s midwife predicted. You surprised your father with the first sword you crafted, showing that the gift of smithing didn’t stop at your older brother.

So it wasn’t unexpected when you expressed your desire to open another smithy in town.

“Now why would you want to do that, my dear?” Your father asked with a gentle smile, wincing at the injury his leg sustained during an accident in the workshop. “Are you not satisfied here with us?”

Your younger self momentarily glanced at his injury, shaking her head before answering him with a hopeful grin. “I am papa. But we will be able to earn more for the future. And you don’t have to tire yourself out in the smithy anymore, papa…” Your voice trailed off at the end, your smaller hands reaching out to hold her father’s.

Your father smiles gently although there was almost a sad glint to it. He raised his calloused hand to your cheek, caressing the skin there softly and pinching it afterward. He laughed quietly when you swat his hand away with a tiny pout on your rosy cheeks.

“My dear, you never fail to brighten up and think of the loved ones surrounding you. For that, I’m grateful.” He grunted as he stood up from his seat, leaning on the cane that was made for him. He gently cupped the back of your head and pulled you forward to kiss the crown of your hair.

“But don’t worry too much about me. I’ll be able to manage.” He flashes you one of his reassuring smiles before limping away to his workbench to continue his work.

You looked over to your father, brows furrowed together as your hands gripped at the apron that hung around your waist. One day- you’d make him proud and he’d never have to suffer again.  

Forward to many years later. Here you are now, a young woman of twenty-two, ready to start the day.

You yawned behind your palm, looking over to the window in the corner of the room on the right. There was no light creeping through the cracks on the shutters which was a telltale sign that the sun was still asleep and that the town was still in the early hours of the morning. It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake at this ungodly time of the day. You always had to start early because as soon as the sun rises the whole town comes to life.

Another yawn escapes you as your hand flies across the bedside table, finding the small box of matches and candlestick that you kept. You pull back your hand and hiss quietly as you feel a tiny splinter on your palm. You ignore the pain for the moment and continue searching for the candle and matchbox.

As soon as you find it, you light the candle and make work of removing the splinter in your palm. You set the candle into its respective holder and glanced over to your brother’s side of the room. His back was to you, shoulders going up and down as he breathed steadily. You roll her eyes in half amusement and half exasperation, a quiet sigh escaping you. He always stayed up late.

You get up, bringing the candlestick with you, and proceed to head to the kitchen in your small house. You grab your shawl on the way there as a draft blew through the house. It was always cold where you lived- especially since it was near the mountains- but it was even colder in the mornings.

As you move about the kitchen, you can hear footsteps approaching. “What time did you sleep last night, Christopher?” You ask your brother, not looking up from slicing the hard bread you had.

“Earlier than usual..” He yawns, running his hand through his dark hair. He assisted you in making breakfast, bringing out the earthenware jug of goat’s milk and pouring it into the clay mugs you each have.

“But late as always.” You counter back as you set the slices of bread onto the table. You proceed to return the jug of milk to the cupboard but sigh when you realize how much lighter it was than before. “Looks like we’ll be out of milk soon.”

“Then it’s another week without it,�� Christopher adds as he cleans up the crumbs and cuts some slices of goat cheese to go with the bread. “Oh well… we’re used to it anyway. You know how most of what we earn goes to papa’s medicines. Not to forget his ointments.”

“I know Chris, I know.”

You two eat in silence, letting the topic pass by quickly. It’s been a decade since your father had the accident and twelve years since your mother passed from an illness. Since then, it’s just been the three of you. You and your brother worked hard from sunrise till sunset- anything to get your father to rest. You both hated to see how he limped as he walked from one place to the other. You both never told him this but you both saw him sitting on his bed one night, seemingly cursing himself as he stared at the cane he had flung across his room. It pained you to see your father, who usually held his head high, look so defeated.

“I’m off to open the smithy.” You announced as soon as you were done with your meal. “Take care of papa will you, big-nose?”

Christopher nodded, cheeks full of bread and cheese. “See you later stinky-breath”

“It’s just morning breath..!” You refute as you head back to your room to change into your work attire.

After changing into some pants, you threw on your boots and grabbed the worn leather gloves that hung by the doorway. You waved goodbye to your brother and crossed the street to your family’s little smithy.

Few people were already out and about. The delicious smell of fresh bread from the baker’s wafted through the air, thankfully overpowering the nasty odor of goat dung that your neighbors were shoveling out. Probably to be used for the farm they had, or, what little of farmland they had. It was hard to grow things around this area- especially with the altitude and type of soil but the townsfolk managed.

The few shops that were in the village started to open up and the faint sound of the quarry-workers’ song drifted up from the mountain and down into the area, their voices carried by the gentle morning breeze.

“Morning ____!” Magda, your elderly neighbor, greeted as she dusted her carpet from the window.

“Good morning Magda!” You greet back as you head into the smithy. Your boots squelched in the mud created from the dust that floated down from the mountain that mixed with the moist atmosphere created in the early morning.

The smell of heated leather, coal dust, and molten iron greeted your nostrils, burning your lungs with familiarity. You light up the tiny lanterns in the corner of the smithy and your workbench, illuminating the once dark area before grabbing the bucket beside it to fetch some water used in cooling the metal. You hum along to the quarry worker's song, having picked up the tune from having to hear it daily as you work. By the time you were finished with setting everything up, the sun was high in the sky and the town was once more bursting with life.

Your father and brother soon enter, making you smile. “Good morning father.” You greet him with a kiss to his cheek.

“Good morning my flower.” He greets in return as he limps his way over to his workbench.

You tried not to stare after him but you couldn't help it. It seems as if his limp grows worse day by day. You hoped that it the worst will never come- it was a lingering thought but you chose to keep it that way: a what-if scenario. It'll only crush your father's heart if he had to stop crafting and blacksmithing altogether- all because of his injury.

The day continued as usual. The usual customers, both kind and impatient; long lists of requests varying from a specific type of blade and scabbard to the most standard and basic ones. Soon, the sound of a mallet hammering against metal or the hissing of something hot meeting the cool water filled the area. It was practically music to you by now. Time seemed to just flow past the small family of blacksmiths as they worked hard, sweat forming on their brow and skin.

“Careful big-nose,” You tease Christopher when you catch him slipping. You saw how his eyes drooped from his lack of sleep, causing him to trip. Lucky for him- he didn’t drop the mallet he was holding onto his foot.

Lord- he needs to rest.

Chris only laughed dryly and stuck his tongue out at you to which you mirrored quite childishly. Your father only shook his head in amusement, pushing back the spectacles that sat on his nose as he engraved delicate markings into the sheathe a customer ordered a while back.

You were about to throw another playful jab at your brother when the sounds of brass trumpets echoed throughout the village. The people around you grew confused as it continued. There were horns in your village, yes, but this was different. It sounded more regal and official compared to the somewhat brash sound of the village horns.

You threw a rather quizzical look to your brother who shrugged in response. Many of the townsfolk around your area left their place and started moving towards the source of the sound, causing you to do the same. You went over to your father, handing him his cane as you three walked towards the exit of your smithy.

“Oi!! Chris! ____!” A voice called out.

You turn your head to see your friend Siyeon come running towards you. Her steps slowed down to a jog beside you, greeting your father as she did. “What do you think is happening?” She asks you, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“I have no idea.”

[crystaljins]

Keep your distance

Characters: Yoongi x Reader 

Word count: 2.1 K

Synopsis:  8. College!au + 1. Friends-to-lovers + 8. “ wait, wait. say that again. please. ” [drabble game]

Notes: I took a bit of liberty with this one because I have already done both a college au and quote number 19. If you squint you might catch a glimpse of the‘mum’friend!jin though, so hopefully that makes up for whatever the heck this mess is ;)

“Lean back.” You instruct. Yoongi follows obediently, although he grumbles as he does so. That’s just how he is though- you’re sure he could win the lottery and he’s mutter under his breath complaining about having to go and collect the ticket. You’re used to this kind of behaviour from your closest friend- you’d go so far as to say it is relieving to have him well enough to complain. When you’d first gotten the call about his accident your heart had plummeted through your feet and you had prepared yourself for the worst scenario: that you’d never see Yoongi again. But here he is, well enough to grumble that you are pampering him.

“Face masks are step one to a luxurious night.” You explain as you lean in close to tuck his fringe behind a large, velvety headband with a cute bow on the side.

“Why can’t I put it on myself though?” He asks, even as he shuts his eyes in anticipation as you unfold the mask. You glance down at the arm in his cast.

“Can you put it on yourself?” You ask skeptically, rapping on the plaster with your knuckle for emphasis. You do it to make a point- he can’t even wash his own hair. You had had to do it for him earlier, much to his chagrin. He grimaces.

“I could try.” He mutters. He blinks open one eye. “Do you have to lean in so close?”

You frown.

“Why? Does my breath stink?” You ask. And then just to be obnoxious, you lean in extra close and exhale in his face. He groans.

“Get away from me, stinky breath!” He cries playfully, opening both eyes and attempting to scramble away. He’s not very successful with an arm and a leg both in a cast. He’d broken his clavicle, crushed his left femur, and had a nice displaced fracture of both radius and ulna that required surgery to correct. That’s not even starting on the soft tissue injury. He’s just lucky he’s alive.

“Stay still!” You cry, when he winces with pain. It takes all your strength not to tear up then and there because you know Yoongi hates when you cry. You distract yourself by gently smoothing out the wrinkles in his face mask. “You know, it’s ok to have people look after you, Yoongi.” You say softly. You shift away and settle against the couch, pushing your own hair out of your face with a matching head band and tearing open a new face mask packet. You’re too focussed to notice the way he stares at you for a prolonged moment.

“Let’s just watch the movie.” He sighs tiredly. Like he’s sick of talking to you.

You feel like there is a hot coal sitting at the base of your throat. You don’t know how it ended up like this. Yoongi is your closest friend. Normally he grumbles and complains but he plays along with all your stupid requests. He pretends to hate affection but he’ll still let you rest your head on his chest and wrap your arms around him when you’ve had a long day. He hates places with lots of loud places but he’ll still drive you to parties and social gatherings. He hates sweet things but he’ll still share an ice cream with you after you get dinner together. Without him you’re not sure you would have made it this far into your course.

Yet lately he’s been different. Even before the accident, he had pulled away when you’d gone in for a hug, skimped on your movie nights, only texted you back after days had passed. That would have been enough to break you heart if he had simply been your best friend, but you also happen to be madly in love with him. And right when you had thought that perhaps you and your best friend were too distant to even be considered friends anymore, you had gotten the call that he had been in an accident.

Maybe he just needs his space. Yoongi is an introvert in every sense of the word and having you constantly hovering him over must be frustrating. Even more frustrating is probably the fact that he needs you to hover over him thanks to his injuries. He doesn’t have any family apart from an estranged uncle to look after him and he’d had to defer his degree and quit his job after the accident. That would be hard on anyone and then to have the friend he’d clearly been trying to phase out be the one to care for him must be hard.

So you swallow down your hurt and get slowly to your feet.

“Ok,” you say with false brightness. “What do you want to watch? Your pick.” You get down on all fours in front of your laptop, where it’s resting by the TV, hooked up by a cable. You’re about to open Netflix and begin flicking through the selection when Yoongi makes a strange groaning noise. You fly to your feet.

“What’s wrong?” You cry, scrambling over to him. “Are you hurt? Do you need your pain meds?” You demand learning in close to examine his cast. “What do you need?” You ask when he still doesn’t answer.

“What I need,” He explodes suddenly. “Is for you to stop touching me so much! And to put on a proper pair of pyjama pants!”

Silence follows his outburst. You stare uncomprehendingly at your pyjama shorts. They’re cute, if a little old and short. They have bears on them.

A tear lands in your lap, soaking into the face of one of the cartoon bears printed on your shorts.

“Right.” You say, but your traitorous voice cracks. It’s difficult to read Yoongi’s expression beneath the face mask, and you’re avoiding his gaze anyway so you miss the way frustration and regret and panic mix together in his eyes. “I... I thought they were cute.” You say, but your voice is shaky. “They have-“ your voice catches and you inhale deeply. “They have bears on them.”

You’re such an idiot. The way you had been worrying and fretting like a first time mother would be enough to drive anyone crazy, let alone a grumpy hermit like Yoongi. And that’s before even considering the way he had tried to push you away before the accident. You scramble to your feet, attempting to rapidly gather your things so you don’t have to face the burning sting of humiliation and heartbreak mixed together. You’d been so caught up in your own feelings for him that you hadn’t considered what he might be feeling.

“I can call Jin to come over.” You say. You yank off your facemask and crumple it in your fist, exposing the way tears pour down your face. “He’s almost been begging me to let him take care of you instead.”

Yoongi watches you with anguish. He’s so bad at expressing himself. Why can’t he be open with his emotions, like Hoseok or Jin? Instead he’s an emotionally constipated grandpa who apparently can’t even thank the kindest, sweetest, most selfless girl for caring for him so thoroughly. He totally didn’t mean to lash out at you- it’s just that you’re so overwhelming. When you lean in close he feels like there’s an angry mob in his brain shouting for him to close the distance between you. When you touch him he feels like you’ve just pressed an open flame against him. And when you lean forward in those stupid shorts he wants to scream.

This was why he had pushed you away- all he can do is make you miserable. And he had almost succeeded, and almost convinced himself that he would do just fine without you. And then the stupid car crash had happened and his last thought before he lost consciousness had been of you. Of how devastated you were going to be when he died. Of how stupid he had been to push you away instead of holding you close and never letting go like he longed to do. And he’s been given a miraculous second chance and this is how he uses it? No. He can’t use his second chance like this. He has to... he has to tell you how he feels.

“Wait.” He says, right as you’re attempting to squeeze passed him. His uninjured hand shoots out to wrap around you wrist on instinct. “I-“ He says slowly, willing himself to say something, anything.

“It’s ok, Yoongi,” you say softly. “I understand.”

Oh but you don’t. Not even a little bit. If you did you’d probably be scared of the intensity of his feelings.

“You don’t.” He finally says, and his voice cracks.

“Yoongi?” And your tears stop in your confusion because if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was crying. It’s impossible to tell with the face mask on- although it’s starting to half peel off with the way his expression is twisted like he’s in a little pain. “Are you ok? What don’t I understand?”

“I love you!” He cries, with the same desperation and frustration as his earlier shout. He releases your wrist to grab his facemask and fling it carelessly to the side. And with his expression exposed, you can suddenly see all the frantic emotions written across his face. You almost don’t register what he’s said and then when you do you find yourself blinking uncomprehendingly.

“Wait, wait.” You say slowly. Did you hear right? “Say that again. Please.”

“I love you.” He says, this time less frustrated, but probably more desperate.

For the second time that night, absolute silence reigns. You could probably hear a pin drop. Slowly, you lower yourself so that you are sitting beside Yoongi.

“You... you love me?” You ask, just for clarification one last time.

“Yes!” He grumbles, and the tone is more familiar and closer to what you are used to from him.

“But then...” you say, still struggling to process the whole situation.

“But then why did I push you away?” He asks, and he sounds annoyed. He’s just annoyed at himself though. “Why did I yell at you even though you’ve been nothing but kind and generous and sweet?”

You nod, because your mouth is stubbornly refusing to form coherent sentences.

“Because I’m an idiot.” He sighs. “The biggest idiot to ever walk the planet and because you make me nervous.”

“I make you nervous?” You respond incredulously. He nods, and he just seems so defeated and resigned.

“I just can’t seem to say what I mean around you.” He explains. “You’re my best friend and if I even dropped a hint of how I was feeling I was so scared you’d go running for the hills and I’d lose the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Your cheeks heat.

“I... wouldn’t have run away.” You say shyly. You risk a glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “I wouldn’t never run away from you, not unless you wanted me to.”

Yoongi clears his throat awkwardly and the two of you sit in tense silence for an uncomfortably long moment.

“You look nice in the bear shorts. Especially your butt.” He informs you. The statement has you choking on your own spit.

“Yoongi, what?” You cry.

“And your legs are nice.” He observes. “They look like they’d be really smooth and I want to touch them. Preferably while we are making out.”

He’s on a roll now.

“And when you were washing my hair earlier I wanted us to just shower together. It’s quicker and saves water. Probably. Plus you’d be naked so it’s a win-win.” He adds thoughtfully.

“What are you saying Yoongi?” You cry and you’re sure not even the sun burns as hot as your face currently is. He carefully shifts, as much as he can with all the broken bones he has, so that he’s leaning his cheek against the couch and staring straight at your profile.

“I’m testing you.” He explains. “Can you really handle everything I’m feeling?” He wonders aloud. “Are you sure you don’t want to run away?”

Slowly, you turn your head so that you are meeting his gaze head on. Your eyes are puffy from your earlier tears and your face is shiny from the face mask and you’re wearing gaudy bear pyjamas but you’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful it hurts.

“I don’t.” You whisper.

“Well, you could have said something earlier.” He grumbles. And while a part of you wants to punch him, you’re mostly just relieved.

He wouldn’t be the man you loved if he wasn’t grumbling, after all.

[toomanygirlfriends-archive]

Self Shiptober Day 1 - Meeting/Meet Cute

Ship: Desert Flower

The Gerudo Desert was unforgivingly hot. Though that was a given. But on this particular day, even her Desert Garb and cooling potions weren't keeping Max from feeling every single pulse of the scorching sun. The sand felt more like coals beneath her shoes, she could only just see the walls of Gerudo City and she was so far...

She reached for her canteen, her breath heaving with her exhaustion. With a shaking hand she opened the once full water container only to find it empty, not a drop to relieve her. She coughed. The darkness that had been hovering on the edges of her vision began to grow rapidly, and the pounding in her head intensified, no, she had to make it, she had too-

But with another step she fell face down into the sand. She couldn't move anymore.

Her skin burned and itched and her head spun in a dizzying barrage of blue sky and yellow sand and a figure. Red, white, coming fast. Max's mouth felt like it was filled with cotton and her head was stuffed with it as well, it was so hard to register things. Her eyes slipped closed as the figure approached, she thought she saw a single red eye on a milk white face before everything went black.

-0-0-0-

Urbosa was perched on the wall of her city, looking out over the desert. Sabrin had told her that someone had been seen crossing the desert, an interloper. Apparently Hylian and a Vali. It wasn't often that they had visitors. With her well trained eyes she could just make out the split of blue and dusty red in the distance. Maybe it was a messenger from Hyrule Castle. She hadn't heard much from the Royal Family lately. Perhaps this small Vali would have news.

Her eyes caught a glimpse of blood red on the opposite ridge from the Traveler. The unmistakable color of the Yiga Clan's members, 'could she fend them off herself' Urbosa wondered. As she was trying to weigh the options and outcomes, the small thing collapsed, Urbosa's eyebrows raised, "Oh no. Sa'abra, I'm going to get them,"

Her Captain of The Guard nodded, "Good Luck, My Lady!"

But Urbosa was already leaping off the sandstone ledge and landing, before she took off sprinting through the sand.

Her eyes didn't leave the horizon as she moved across the desert with practiced speed. As she approached she could see the Yiga Scout lifting the small thing, "HALT!" Urbosa bellowed, drawing her sword and shield as she slid to a stop, eyes narrowed, "Drop her or face your end."

The Yiga Warrior seemed startled for a moment before they dropped the Hylian and drew their blade, "I have orders."

"What business would your people have with a Hylian Traveler?"

The Yiga didn't respond.

Urbosa's expression darkened, "So be it," and with a Gerudo Roar she launched herself at her opponent.

Urbosa was a far superior warrior than some low level Yiga Clan Lackie and the stick of a fighter fled without much of a struggle. Urbosa made sure there were no other threats lurking in the dunes before returning to the small Vali lying dehydrated and over heated in the dust, "Come now, little rose, let's get you taken care of."

-0-0-0-

Max's eyes cracked open, feeling as though they were made of brick. Her head was pounding and her throats was raw and burned slightly. Her skin tingled with sunburn and she felt absolutely exhausted all the way down to her bones.

"You're awake! Good! I was worried the sun had gotten you." A rich voice said from Max's left side.

She turned to see a beautiful Gerudo Woman. With bright intelligent green eyes, dark dusty makeup matched with a strong brow and gold adornments. Her plush were painted with a light royal blue making her deep brick skin look all the more vibrant. Her large mane flame red hair was pulled up and back in a desert-dweller style. She was taller than anyone Max had ever seen, and more muscular and beautiful than any woman in Hyrule, Max hoped she wasn't drooling, "Saa'vota, My name is Lady Urbosa. Welcome to Gerudo City."

[emouradian]

The Vatican

It was generous of Rome, I suppose. My very first trip to Italy’s capital, and to provide me with the most authentic experience possible, Rome felt like it was actually burning. Every moment of the three days I spent there was like walking on coals. Across the sun. Wearing aluminum foil. I mean, it was hot.

The locals nicknamed the heatwave Lucifer, after the FOX TV show about the devil partnering with a female detective to solve crimes (and maybe – fall in love!). Or perhaps it was named after the devil him or herself (#feminism) because it was absolutely the temperature of pure evil.

My Vatican excursion, and my time in Italy as a whole, was about midway through a 6-week solo trip across Europe. I had just been laid off from my job, had a small but not unexciting cancer scare and had moved back to New York to help my mother sell her house after my dad’s recent death (which is a better narrative than I moved back home because I was homeless and jobless). I took my generous severance and like the good millennial I am, decided to blow most of it on THE TRIP OF A LIFETIME. 

I looked around at the state of my life: Single and in my mid-thirties, I had no real-life responsibilities other than the crippling debt I had come to know as a friend and life partner. Rebecca, the name I gave my debt monster in my late twenties, would certainly be waiting for me upon my return to keep me warm during all my most visceral debt-induced panic attacks. Plus, with no job prospects to speak of, and no real urge to start the arduous process of job hunting, it was time to Eat, Pray, Shlub through Europe. Basically, at thirty-six years old, I finally took my gap year.

My plan was simple: I’d just go to The Vatican, pay whatever I had to skip the line and zip through the whole thing in thirty minutes, forty if the gift shop had Pope Pun t-shirts (Snap, Crackle, POPE; A picture of The Pope in his Popemobile that said: My Other Ride Is Your Mom). I’d be getting yelled at for drinking espresso on the Spanish Steps by lunch.

I don’t like to brag but... being wrong about life choices, is kind of the defining characteristic of my overall personal brand. If two roads diverged in a wood, I’d somehow manage to climb the tree separating the two paths, get stuck up there and die of exposure. It’s just who I am, you guys. But in the lifetime of lefts that should’ve been rights, I’ve never been as wrong about anything as I was about The Vatican. Like all good horror stories, this was my “Let’s check out the abandoned camp” or “Let’s bone in the lake – no one’s around!” moment I would come to regret later.

By this point in my overall trip, I had achieved this odd mix of overconfidence in my ability to be a capital-T Tourist, with a nearly pathologically unreasonable disdain for tours, guides and waiting in line. Especially if that line was just a pre-line to get on line or even worse a queue before a line that led to a holding area before you could get in line. This sort of living purgatory happens a lot when you are traveling to the most touristy places on the planet. I get that. But as an Ugly American, I simply felt I should be able to get exactly what I wanted when I wanted it and if I couldn’t, throw money at the problem until I get my way. (I was not the best representation for our country during my time abroad, although I may have, sadly, been a fairly accurate one. For that I apologize. To the world.)

My smug confidence in my plan to zip in and out of The Vatican in roughly the amount of time it would take to watch the first two episodes of the new season of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt was bolstered by a successful trip on the Rome subway system. Well, maybe I’m being generous with the use of the word successful: As I left my hotel, I immediately walked up to a fully armed French soldier, frantically asking where the entrance to the subway was located. With a language barrier separating us he physically turned my body around to show the entrance to the train all of 15 feet away from me. From there on out, though, it was smooth sailing. I took this as a particularly good sign: 

When I got out of the subway I was just a few blocks away from The Vatican, and despite that, I arrived drenched in so much sweat I could have easily been baptized where I stood. I ducked and weaved past several aggressive guides trying to recruit me for their tours; I won’t fall for your shenanigans, mio amico. I actively felt bad for the tourists, trying to navigate the fast, smooth talking tour guides, fanny packs askew, cameras strapped to their chests. This isn’t my first rodeo, you charlatans! As I got closer and closer to the The Vatican, however,  the line to enter the building got longer and longer; I started to feel the first twinge of doubt about my ability to self-navigate a place visited by 20,000 people every damn day.

Seeing the disappointment crest over my face, a tour guide pounced. “You need a tour pass to get in,” he said quietly, calmly, like he didn’t need my business. He was Indian or Middle Eastern, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks, which I found comforting. I knew he must be baking in the sun, and this, along with the Vatican badge he sported, convinced me he was a bit more official.

“I just want to skip the line,” I responded, almost to myself, like a child quietly crying, trying to convince himself there are no monsters lurking under his bed.

“I can help you with that,” he shrugged. He said it in such a nonchalant way he made me think he was part of the actual Vatican team - whatever that meant - and not just another ravenous tour guide trying to make a sale. I held onto that belief as we sprinted down the block, I held onto that belief as we dodged cars as we crossed a busy intersection and I held onto that belief for the entire time I stood in a small windowless basement room getting signed up for the tour I was being sold. It’s a miracle I haven’t been murdered. 

I had forty-five minutes to kill, so I grabbed a pork cheek sandwich, washed down with several beers. After being defeated, tour-wise, I was helpless against the remarkably pushy saleswoman at a nearby clothing store. Before my years of retail work could snap me out of my daze I got talked into buying a pair of shorts I didn’t need, a button-down short-sleeved shirt that didn’t fit and a pair of swim trunks so short, they appropriately left no question about my religion.  

Pork cheek and Italian beer stuffed in my belly and unnecessary purchase stuffed into my backpack, I was now ready to be blessed. A crowd started to form under the six branches of shade the anemic tree outside the tour office provided. The excitement was palpable, and I could feel it split into three different categories: 1) Religious-based fervor about the holy place we were about to enter; 2) Excitement about seeing one of the most famous attractions in the world; 3) Elation about entering a room with air conditioning.

Now that it was time to start making our way back the few blocks to the Vatican, our tour guide assembled us to share a few rules, which sounded eerily similar to what you hear lawyers telling people about visiting family members in prison. I don’t recall the guide’s name, because I sweat that information out, along with my ability to do long division. I do remember that he was at least 150 years old and I kept wondering how I would go about getting my ticket off his body if he dropped dead. This trip took me to some dark places.

Just as I was about to hit send on a text message letting my family know that when I arrived back home, I’d be nothing more than a puddle of salty water, we arrived at the heavily guarded gates of The Vatican. Even though we were on the expedited line, it still took thirty minutes to cross the threshold into the room that would lead us through security and into the actual start of the tour. The lobby was stuffy and packed with people, herded like some meta interpretation of cattle-as-tourists-as-cattle. There we waited. And waited. And waited.

As you do in times of crisis, I attached myself to other survivors. In this case, a family of three - parents in their late-thirties and a three or four year-old child, sweaty and rightfully miserable in his stroller. By now it had been ninety minutes since entry, and I was trying to sow the seeds of rebellion into my compatriots: “We’ve been waiting here for a while.”

“Yeah, little man is getting tired,” the father said back to me, absently but not with the tone of annoyance I was trying to cultivate. To the kid’s credit, he wasn’t throwing a fit, just uncomfortable, and his cries were more like muffled sobs of someone resigned to their fate but not very happy about it.

“He’s just expressing how we are all feeling. I think it’s brave,” I said, almost catatonic.

“I’m sure we’ll be in soon. It’ll be worth it,” the mother said. I was stunned by her optimism and determination. I wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her: You fool! We are never going to leave this room! Don’t you see? Don’t you get it? We’re Vatican Lobby people now!  

Instead, I got angry, probably for the first time in the whole experience. I had been frustrated, and impatient, and hot – dear sweet heaven, it was hot - but this made me mad. Not at the woman, trying to cool down her son with precious elixir known as bottled water. Not at her husband, steely eyed but still eager to see the wonders that awaited beyond the security. I was mad because these people were there for a beautiful, powerful experience that deeply mattered to them. I noticed, for the first time, the crosses they all wore, glistening through sweat and waves of heat. This whole time I couldn’t fathom what would possess these seemingly normal people to weather this heat to take their kid on an excursion into a big building with art and religious artifacts. As a well-established quitter, there were five times I would’ve turned around and tried another day. To me, this was something to check off a list. Going to Rome, potentially for the only time in my life, I’d need to see The Vatican to say that I had seen The Vatican. Don’t get me wrong, I was excited – at least initially. But that excitement waned pretty quickly, as I became less a tourist and more a contestant in a co-ed Spring Break wet t-shirt contest for hairy men with man boobs.  These people were there for spiritual and holy reasons; this was a pilgrimage for them.  As someone who spent the last ten years trying to improve user and participant experience, I was offended that these people – and the thousands with them – weren’t getting an experience they deserved.

Just as I was ready to take a torch to the place, we started moving. Our tour guide, thankfully still alive, started handing out the tickets we needed to get through security. The other members of the tour swarmed him, and in a move that proves I would not survive any kind of Zombie Apocalypse, I let the family of three go ahead of me to get their tickets, even though I wasn’t entirely confident I wouldn’t be left without tickets, stuck in God’s literal waiting room. Once they had their tickets, however, I elbowed my way to the front and got my pass. I felt like a boy of thirty-three again! I was going to make it. We were going to get through this – together.

Only the second we made it through the security, my fight or flight instincts kicked in and I ran for it. The idea of standing around for the next three hours with this group of people and this old man who looked like a half-melted statues come to life, was too much for me. I took a last glance at the family of three.  Despite my urge to fight for their experience and the polite conversation we made, I’m certain my existence barely registered for them, but I felt a kinship with them in the story I was creating in my mind. I stretched out my hand, mouthed “Stay alive!” and ran up the stairs, hiding – I HID – from my tour. It had become clear to me that I had lost my mind.

Once I was sure the tour had passed, I found the closest information desk and asked: “What is the fastest way to see everything?” I was handed a map and a look of disgust, and was on my way.

The next two hours were both a blur and happened in super slow motion. There were so many people in this sarcophagus of a building that I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I abandoned the audio tour within the first 10 minutes; it could still be under the oddly attractive statue of the guy with the dog for a head. Every way I moved I bumped into people – and was it just me or was it getting even hotter? Could they have air conditioning in The Vatican? And where was the Pope? I was told there would be a Pope! How was the family of three doing? Would I ever see my mom again? Should I re-watch Veronica Mars? My mind couldn’t stop.

As I descended further into madness, a single thought snapped me out of it. I realized why this kind of oppressive human smog and sensory overload was so familiar and unsettling: It was just like being at Ikea on a Saturday afternoon. And much like Ikea, there was only one way in and one way out. “The only way was through,” I actually said out loud to no one in particular. Steeling myself, I became determined to see The Sistine Chapel and get the hell out of there.

I began walking with more purpose, following the signs to the Sistine Chapel, which was never as close as promised (just like Swedish meatballs at Ikea!). I snapped a few pictures, mostly to take a look at later. I stopped and stared at some art and looked up to appreciate a ceiling or two. Cool cool cool cool cool – where’s the exit?

Now, months after my escape, I can’t remember if I descended higher and higher or lower and lower to reach The Sistine Chapel, but I finally got there. And it was… disappointing. Or maybe it wasn’t? I’m not sure because you couldn’t actually stop and look at the ceiling, which admittedly was beautiful. You had to keep going, keep going, keep going, like Dory from Finding Nemo. I didn’t think I’d be making comparisons to an Ellen DeGeneres-voiced cartoon character to describe seeing one of the most famous sites in the world, but here we are.

That feeling of anger began to wash over me again. I am not a very religious person, nor an art or history buff (I know, I’m the worst), but I am someone who likes a well-run and well-executed event. And this was neither. I kept thinking about that family or any religious person I knew, not just going to The Vatican because they were in Rome and “they should go”, but rather as a truly holy rite of passage. I may not share those views, but I do think they deserve an experience that reflects their devotion to the church. Maybe that family had a great time, maybe this filled their bucket, but if not, I have a strongly worded letter to the head of The Vatican (The Pope? God?) about some logistical and user experience enhancements.

Once I was prodded through The Sistine Chapel, all other thoughts left my mind other than Lakeith Stanfield screaming GET OUT. I felt like a rat trying to burrow through a man’s chest to survive in Game of Thrones. Yes, maybe that heat I was feeling was the flames of hell trying to suck me in because, well, I wasn’t being my most pious self. And yes, I did make myself a rat burrowing through human flesh in that analogy, but that doesn’t make it untrue. Like any time I’ve ever been to Ikea, it was time to forget about everything that you cared about when you entered, fight the tourists and find the way out. 

I began to walk faster, now only snapping pictures of things while I was physically walking by them. Everywhere I went, I bumped into a German tourist, who seemed, to be blocking me. I wanted to scream: WHY DO YOU WANT ME TO STAY HERE? WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR!?!?! It felt like days since I had seen the sun or felt the steaming hot gust of Roman air on my face. I wondered: Would I be different now? What had changed in the world? Do proper hover boards finally exist?

Thirty minutes later, I burst through doors and was free to leave… ooh the gift shop! I bought a few rosary beads for friends who would appreciate them, but alas no Pope shirt that had his face superimposed on a bunch of Emojis.

From there I walked briskly to what I knew would be doors leading to the outside. I was an inside person now, and worried that the daylight would burn on my skin after so long. When I arrived in the courtyard of St. Peter Basilica it took all my strength not to drop to my knees, arms stretched to the sky a la Andy Dufrense at the end of Shawshank Redemption.

I walked around St. Peter Basilica for a bit and headed to a pizza place I had read about. I stumbled in like a man out of the dessert begging for water. I ordered a local beer and the house special pizza. The pizza arrived perfect, beautiful, profoundly satisfying. 

It was the closest I felt to God all day.  

[making-my-choices]

It’s Time- Drake x MC

This is part 3 of my angsty little series about the Liam/MC/Drake scenario. This love triangle stuff is tricky business, and I am just trying to show a bit more of each of their individual perspectives. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 (Drake’s POV) here: https://making-my-choices.tumblr.com/post/166464679661/guilty-party-drake-x-mc-summary-get-your-drake

Part 2 (Liam’s POV) here: https://making-my-choices.tumblr.com/post/166535461631/a-moment-of-clarity-liammcdrake-this-is-a

Part 3 (Riley’s POV) below…

They were playing with fire.

Riley’s stomach churned as they rushed through the manor towards Drake’s room. After weeks of stolen moments and sweet little dates, they had gradually become emboldened by the strength of their feelings for one another. Tonight they were being reckless, daring to slip out of a ball held in Liam and Madeleine’s honour, under the prying eyes of the entire court.

Drake had stood close by her, whispering an invitation to join him for a nightcap. She should have turned him down on the spot. There were so many people milling around the manor- anyone of them could see them leave together and sell a story to the tabloids. Intellectually, Riley knew all of this to be true. And yet, for reasons passing understanding, she had nodded her head in agreement and followed him out into the night.

She broke into a slight run to keep pace with him as he led her away from the ballroom, and stole a sideways glance in his direction. His handsome features were set in the impassive expression with which she had become so familiar. She almost marvelled at his ability to hide his feelings from the world. She had always worn her heart on her sleeve, for better or for worse- quick to anger, quick to laughter, quick to tears. No one was ever left guessing as to her true mood in any given moment, and lately she had dreamt of being as guarded as Drake- anything to feel like she could protect herself. Riley felt as though she was scrambling desperately to keep everything stuffed deep below the surface, helpless to stop the weak facade from cracking.

Drake stopped abruptly as they reached his room, pulling her inside. She closed the door behind her softly and leant against it, revelling in the instant quiet and slowly releasing a deep breath she didn’t realise she had been holding. He kissed her slowly and she felt days of pent-up tension disappear on his tongue. He broke the kiss first- as he always seemed to do- and dropped his forehead to rest against hers. Riley kept her eyes closed, trying to hold on to the moment even as Drake crossed the room to pour them both a drink.

She opened her eyes suddenly and gestured to the bottle of whiskey in his hand. “No more for me tonight. I had enough at the ball.” It was only a half-truth- she had let two glasses of champagne go to her head earlier in the night, but she wasn’t drunk. She just knew she needed to have her wits about her if she was going to tell him everything she wanted to say tonight.

He looked at her questioningly but didn’t press the issue. “Suit yourself,” he murmured as he poured his own and made his way over to the sofa to sit by her. Riley felt herself straighten up, sitting stiffly next to him. The only thing that hurt more than being away from Drake these days was actually being around him. Although her body longed to be close to his, it was painful to be in his presence in a crowd- constantly checking herself and never glancing in his direction for more than a moment. But being alone with him was agony. Drake had made it clear that he wanted to wait until everything was resolved before they were truly together, and she agreed. But she still felt as though she was losing her mind.

She had never fallen so quickly or quite so hard. It was inexplicable really- it had only been a few months. Yet the way her heart was calmed in the brief moments he held her was undeniable. She felt his eyes on her and turned to face him. Her heart pounded in her chest at the intensity of his gaze. She couldn’t afford to let herself get distracted tonight though, despite feeling desperate for his touch. No, tonight she needed to talk to him about the one topic that made him most uncomfortable. The one thing they always steered clear of discussing. Liam.

Liam had been the catalyst for this entire crazy chapter of her life and was so grateful to him for that. But aside from one reckless late-night kiss the night they met in New York, when she thought she would never see him again, Riley never had any intention of being with him. She had realised that Drake was no longer fighting her when she told him he was the one she wanted, and the realisation only fuelled her desire to have everything out in the open.

He nudged her shoulder. “Ok, what’s on your mind? The silent treatment is kind of the last thing I would expect from you, Johnson.”

She smiled wryly. “I guess I’m just learning from the best.”

He feigned hurt before raising his eyebrows at her, urging her on.

She cleared her throat softly, unable to bring her eyes up to meet his. “We have to talk about Liam.”

She felt his entire body tense beside her. He spoke quietly. “I’ve told you already, I’m not going to let you make a decision before-“

She gently raised a hand to stop him. “I know. But Drake… I’m so tired. I can’t keep avoiding him at every event. And now he comes by my room at night, wanting to see me alone. I feel like I’m leading him on and I’m not even doing anything. It has to end.” She pauses momentarily, lifting her face to meet his gaze once more. “The longer this goes on, the more we will hurt him.”

Drake took a sip of his whiskey as he considered her words. Riley took a breath and let him sit with the silence for a long moment before he spoke.

“You’re right.”

She looked at him with genuine surprise. She had expected to spend the rest of the night arguing, begging him to understand her perspective. She had not expected this.

Drake laughed softly at her expression and took her hand. “I know I’ve asked a lot of you, Johnson, and I know how hard it’s been. But you’re still here.” He squeezed her hand and she gave him a small smile before he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I should be the one to tell him.”

Riley looked at him in alarm, her heart racing. “Drake, no! We are in this together. I can’t let you do it alone.” She shook her head at him vigorously, her eyes wide. “No. That’s not happening.”

He brushed her hair back from her face and dropped his head to look deep into her eyes. “Just let me finish- I want to be the one to tell him. But I can’t do it without you by my side.”

Riley smiled weakly and snuggled into him, quiet for a moment. She murmured into his chest. “How will he take it?”

She felt Drake take a deep breath. “He’ll be kind. He’ll hear us out, and tell us he understands. Wish us well.” His voice wavered almost imperceptibly as he continued. “It’s who he is.”

Riley felt hot tears spring to her eyes. “We’re going to hurt him, Drake.”

He said nothing, as there was nothing more to be said. Riley felt sick at the thought of the pain she was causing- for Liam and for Drake. She had chipped away at the walls surrounding Drake for months, and the lessons she had learnt made her heart ache for him. Little by little she had come to understand his lifetime of suffering- the disappearance of his sister, his father’s death, his mother’s abandonment, his unfailing sense of duty that led him back to Cordonia for Liam. Drake had held the burden of his pain too tightly for too long, and all on his own. It was a hot coal in his hand, gradually burning through him and threatening to take out anyone he let get close to him. Riley knew without doubt that she could calm his anguish, if only he could let her in. And if he couldn’t- she was willing to burn.

At least now they were finally moving forward. Telling Liam would undoubtedly be difficult, but it had to be done, and she knew they could handle it together. There were clear skies up ahead for her and Drake, she was sure of it. She was ready to weather the storm.

[graylit]

                                            HEADCANON     

   SITH ! VERSE ; MORAL ALIGNMENT & REDEMPTION 

One could say Rey tiptoes VERY close to the edge of LAWFUL EVIL in several of my verses, though she will never truly fall into that category. She never once believed that her actions were “right” or justified in all the time she trained under Kylo, Snoke and The First Order. She has never agreed with the course they had steered the galaxy in. She has never taken REAL pleasure in the pain and suffering of others, nor has she inflicted it needlessly. There are of course, situations where she cracks and goes overboard ( she’s only human after all ) If she is angered, wronged, or hurt she WILL take her retribution and relish it.

For the most part though her actions have, and will always be based on SURVIVAL. That was her entire existence on Jakku, just getting through the day to the best of her abilities. This is why I peg her as a CHAOTIC NEUTRAL,bordering on True Neutral back on Jakku. This does not make her heartless or selfish, as we see when she takes BB-8 in. She’s reluctant at first, this isn’t HER problem, this doesn’t aid HER at all… Yet, she knows full well how it feels to long for the help of another and receive nothing in return.

And suddenly Finn is there and she’s been dragged into this inconceivable adventure and her moral compass is going haywire; because on one hand she needs to be HOME, she needs to be there to meet her family, becauseTHAT was what she was fighting for. That is why she never gave up and to be dragged away from her driving force like that was excruciating. And on the other hand her vision, her world has expanded across the stars and suddenly she isn’t the only person in existence. That people, GOOD people like Finn are depending on the information BB-8 possesses.

It isn’t all for one anymore and to a part of something bigger than her life on Jakku is incredible. I will never be able to put into words how important Finn is to Rey, how she flourishes around him and how her throughout the entirety of their adventure jUST– UGH. For the first time in her life she finds someone to cast aside selfishness for, to ban . She was ready to die with him there on Star Killer. She didn’t leave him in the snow in search of a way out. She dropped to her knees at his side and waited for the end.

ofc I take that and ruin it by having Rey scooped up and whisked away.

Without that though, she has nothing to cling to. That spark of goodness that was ALWAYS there and flourished in the presence of Finn dwindles down to nothing. She returns fully to that singular mindset, knowing she has no choice but to comply. She is almost droid like on missions during Shadow Preacher & brutally efficient. She WILLgo to whatever lengths are needed to complete whatever task is at hand, but they are rarely of her design. She is once more a girl fighting to get through the day.

She  DOES enjoy the POWER that comes with the dark side of the Force, however. It’s the only place she finds her solace anymore. The only thing that provides her with a sense of control and comfort, however false it may be under her circumstances.

re·demp·tion   –– rəˈdem(p)SH(ə)n/

                                             noun        1. the action of saving or being saved from sin, error, or evil.

I’m going to delve into this from both secular and Christian point of views here ‘cause y’all know I love to ramble. I read a great blurb on the subject a while ago:  forgiveness is something given, redemption is something to seek.  Since there’s no Space Jesus that died to absolve the galaxy of their sins in this story, we’re going old testament where sacrifices are offered up for absolution. To receive redemption in such a scenario one must WANT it and the rest will follow.  If you have to burn incense and flesh at altars, or give a lifetime of service, if you have to walk barefoot along a path of hot coals, or if you have to sacrifice your life by any means you will do so if that’s what it takes. Snoke, Hux, Phasma, and Sidious for example were not and will not be redeemed because they don’t believe they need it, either because they are so deeply rooted in evil that they don’t CARE, or because they believe they are in the right ( or both ) To say characters don’t deserve redemption is ridiculous, to receive redemption a person will have to commit an act that REQUIRES redemption, a blameless person has no need for it.

Even at her darkest Rey is well aware that her actions are wrong. Nearly every order she has followed through was a means of survival, though this does not make her any less guilty. She knows that she will have to atone one day and keeps a list of all those she will have to repay in her head, every child she has stolen, every person she has killed.

The opposite could be said of Kylo to some extent, he believes most of his actions are justified and right, that he is bringing order to the galaxy as his grandfather did. The difference between he and Hux ( and perhaps even Vader, though I haven’t done an extensive character study of him and I’m trying to keep this under ten pages long lol ) is that Kylo feels conflict throughout the entirety of TFA. This is why he’s a prime candidate for redemption because he is still capable of seeking that change out. As stated in the novelization he expresses hesitancy at the genocide Hux and Snoke are keen on committing. This excerpt from the script is another thing that sets them apart during the destruction of the Hosnian system ( ‘Hux watches, his eyes WILD WITH POWER AND EVIL’ ) for all his rage he was never described as such. 

Not to mention the one on one with grandpa’s helmet where he openly admits to his inner turmoil, plus the entire scene with Han Solo don’t get me started. He also fights incredibly hard to keep the Illenium system in tact by saying he could get Luke’s location from Rey ( Snoke: prepare the weapon. Kylo: is stunned by the moment – that isn’t what he meant at all – ) 

Rey never has these fits or blinding moments of light in this verse, it’s a dull and throbbing ache that never really dissipates, a sick feeling that she is wrong without knowing how to resist. What she chooses to do with this and where her negative character development comes into play. Rey’s part in the downfall of the galaxy is not okay she knows this, has accepted it, and does nothing to change it. But she still can, should she find a reason she has the capacity to change. To redeem and forgive is not to condone actions by any stretch of the imagination, nor should it ( a fact that people seem to forget or purposefully overlook )

[giacintodenmark]

Long Study Tour: Hamburg & Berlin

SUNDAY

6:45 Meet tour leaders and the group at Copenhagen Central Station

Up at 4:40, I gathered my things and myself to make my way to the station. I forgot to lock my bike (thank god for host moms, my bike likely would have disappeared otherwise). It all went well otherwise, I boarded the bus with my class in a daze.

7:10 Depart by bus for Rødby (Bus 38) 

We then made a switch from bus to train. The train boarded the ferry.

9:35 Depart by ferry to Germany Depart on train (EC 38) to Hamburg 

The train boards the ferry, we walk amongst the ferry (which is really a mall on the inside, may as well sell things to people when you’ve got them captive for the 40 minute crossing to Germany). It’s a pleasant ride, we talk on one of the two outside docks... watching the other boats pass, the whitewater trail we leave, the wind, the sun.

Photo Link

A view from the train. A town view of the Lensahn municipality within Schleswig-Holstein, Germany. 

12.31 Arrive at Hamburg Hauptbahnhof Walk from station to hostel 

Hamburg’s central station. Bustling with people of all sorts, all in a bit of a hurry to be somewhere. It’s quite something to shuffle through shifting rivers of people with all the luggage we carried with us. It was an exciting introduction to Northern Germany.

Walking to the hotel, we were in a rather industrial area of Hamburg. I have been spoiled by Copenhagen in that the city infrastructure works wonderfully for pedestrians... for people. I can’t say the same for this part of Hamburg, with many cars and garbage. Its easy to see the benefits of the simple things Copenhagen implements in their city layout.

~13.00 Arrive/drop bags: Novum Belmondo Hamburg 

Time on own: 

St. Nicholas Church Ruins in Hamburg

The Bombings of Hamburg destroyed most of the city and killed many in WW2. The most destructive operations being Operation Gomorrah (named after the biblical destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah), killing 42K and wounding 37K. 

The Gothic-style spired tower stands out like a beacon, it is the second tallest structure in Hamburg. 

Photo Link

Spire side view of the ruins, the spire-tower, once hollow, the damage to the details noticeable... now contains an elevator and information on the church remnants.

“Founded in 1195, St. Nicholas is one of the oldest churches in Hamburg. It develops from a little chapel to a hall church. During the Great Fire in Hamburg in 1842 it burns down.” (although it was destroyed and rebuilt times before this point).

“The citizens of Hamburg, however, facilitate to rebuild the church in a neo-gothic style. The plans are designed by British architect G. Scott, the construction lasts from 1846 to 1882.”

“In July 1943 Allied airplanes attack the city of Hamburg. During the air raids more than 35,000 people die, 900,000 become homeless, 250,000 houses are destroyed, as was St. Nicholas.”

“After the war, St. Nicholas is not rebuilt. The remains commemorate the victims of the “Fire Storm” over Hamburg and the victims of the German atrocities in Europe.”

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Lunch on own:

 Züm Spatzle

The front page is a letter to guests expressing how the importance of knowing where one's food comes from. The restaurant has close ties to the source of each ingredient used, everything is listed in the letter. The ingredients of every menu item are listed. The menu is small to keep everything home-made and high quality. 

“Our meals are very traditional, home-style cooking. I hope you enjoy this cuisine from my homeland! We always fo our best!”

Spätzle with green pesto and parmesan. Topped with arugula, cherry tomato, and balsamic vinegar. 

Maultachen in vegetable broth. (This was my favorite

Cheese Spätzle baked in the oven, with onions (caramelized + chives). 

16:00 – 18:00 Group Visit: HafenCity – Sustainability Tour 

Mr. Thorsten Gödtel is going to be our guide and the focus of the tour will be on sustainability concepts of HafenCity 

70% of the German population lives in cities, this proportion is expected to increase in the future. HafenCity is the largest inner-city development project in Europe. There is an emphasis on making the infrastructure compatible with renewable energy, minimizing resource use and detrimental environmental impact, maximizing green space per urban/industrial area.

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Depart to return to hostel to check in 19:00

 Meet in lobby to depart for group dinner 

19.30 Group Dinner: Loving Hut Vegan Restaurant 

An international all-vegan chain in which each location can offer its own menu items, but must remain completely vegan. We had a sesame/ginger soup and a whole bunch of spring rolls. It was quite good, I haven’t been to a bad Loving Hut... there are a great number of other vegan restaurants unique to Hamburg worth checking out as well.

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Rest of evening on own. 

(went home, went to bed)

MONDAY

Morning Run #1

Went out early in the morning for a run, it was interesting to. see the city as the sun rose. The streets were bustling with morning traffic, the still active harbor was alight with ships coming in and out.

7.30 Breakfast at hostel.

8:40 Depart for a group visit 

9:00-10:00 Group Visit: Farmers Cut 

We visited a pilot vertical farm, working to bring locally grown greens to the people of Hamburg through dryponic cultivation. The process requires no pesticides and assures fresh, hyperlocal produce to markets and restaurants within the city. 

Isabel Mlitor, a co-founder and current CMO of Farmers Cut. She gave us the tour through the Hamburg facility. 

“[Indoor vertical farming] captivated me immediately as I was already following the development of next-generation farming in the USA – especially in New York – and knew what an incredibly fascinating topic it is: the link between technology, urbanization, and nutrition. All areas that carry great meaning for all of us.” 

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A view of the plants growing within the vertical farm .

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A souvenir, some Lemon Balm fresh from the vertical farm. 

Depart for Walking Tour 10:45- 12:45 

Alternative Hamburg Tour Starting point: Sternschanze Bahn station 

A tour through the Schanze neighborhood... focusing on the role graffiti art and tagging plays in creating the unique environment and giving voice to locals.

Here are some photos from the tour.

Time on own: Adventure around Sternshanze

A mysterious knick-knack store

I couldn’t find the name of the place anywhere, I don’t know if it was a shop, a museum, I don’t know... I never asked the guy sitting amongst the mess, he was busy reading and smoking .a cigarette (which are then placed into jars and placed throughout the room.

A Google Maps image of the entrance... the interior is below the Elternhaus. 

This place was just an amalgamation of all sorts of unusual items... skulls wrapped in copper wire, meat grinders, people’s postcards, CPR dummies, dirt, et. cetera.

The place is a horribly messy art piece, everything seems to sort of have a place... sort of...

Hot Dog Thrift Store

A collection of curated vintage clothing, the owner seemed quite knowledgeable and passionate about the shop’s collection. The place is a fun visit, everything is quite expensive though... 

Hermetic Coffee

“Living and breathing the diversity of coffee, we are very pleased that our café is giving us the opportunity to share with you the full range of coffee flavours.

We serve hand brewed speciality coffee from our own roasts as well as from appreciated roasteries from all over the world.

For you to explore the world of coffee at your home, too, we offer freshly roasted coffee and a wide range of brewing equipment such as scales, drippers, hand mills and much more.

Should you have any questions, feel free to approach us at all times – we are happy to help you.

We are looking forward to your visit.“

The café interior. 

Photo Link

Espresso, the go-to for every café I visit.

18.36 Depart on train for Berlin 

20.19 Arrival at Berlin Hauptbahnhof Depart by public transport to hotel 

Approx. 21:00 Arrival/check in: B&B Hotel 

Rest of evening on own 

TUESDAY

Morning Run #2

Got up early once again to get a first look at Berlin as the sun rises. Our hotel is near Tiergarten, a large green strip similar to NY’s Central Park or SF’s Golden Gate Park. It was once the royal hunting grounds, it was turned into a protected public space in the 1700s. Much of the park was clear cut during a coal shortage during WW2. It has gradually been replanted thanks to local donations. 

The Victory Column, commemorating the victory in the Prussian-Danish war.

A sunrise along the road that runs through Tiergarten. Morning traffic had began, everyone was starting their Tueday in Berlin.

Soviet War Memorial, commorating soldiers killed in the Battle of Berlin.

The sunset reflected upon the glass buildings near the hotel we were staying at. 

8:30 Meet to depart for group visit by public transportation 

9.30- 13.00 Group Lunch + Academic Visit: Das Baumhaus 

Project & Space for Sustainability in Berlin Gerichtstraße 23, 13347 Berlin A workshop on sustainability and community engagement And a hands-on workshop – building stuff with tetrapaks.

“A place to meet neighbors and other people who want to make the world a better place in Berlin! The project space is a platform for meetings, events and workshops for a variety of people and organizations. Das Baumhaus is an open socio-cultural project in Wedding. They connect, inspire and empower each other, neighbors, organizations and local changemakers working for transition to sustainability. In the project space, people and projects from a broad variety of backgrounds come together, meet and collaborate.

Das Baumhaus is a self-organized, grassroots initiative grown out of the neighborhood, with Karen & Scott, the project co-founders at the core of the Baumhaus project. Since 2012, more than 300 people have collaboratively developed the project, organized events, meetings, initiated new groups, and in 2016 renovated a storefront space into a pretty unique project space. Organized as a non-profit association, a social business and above all, an open network.”

We discussed the foundational thinking of Das Baumhaus... recognizing the world as a conglomeration of multiple systems within a collective balance. Sustainable development should be looked at from 6 perspectives: Personal, Ecological, Aesthetic, Cultural, Economic, Social. We then pretty much did arts and crafts to make upcycled things for an hour and a half. 

Lunch is served by the Real Junk Food Project, they only use rescued food. (i.e. food that is still good to eat but would have been thrown out without someone using it ASAP)

Time on own 

16:00 Meet at Orinienburger Tor U-bahn station 

16:15 – 17:45 Cultural Visit: Private Viewing of Boros Collection Inside Bunker Reinhardtstraße 20 10117 Berlin 

“The Boros Collection is a private collection of contemporary art. It comprises groups of works by international artists dating from 1990 to the present. Different facets of the collection are on public display in a converted bunker, with 3000 sqm exhibition space. “

1942... Construction of the bunker as an air-raid shelter for the civilian population, built by forced laborers.

1945... Bunker occupied by the Red Army and used for prisoners of war.

1949...Use as a textile warehouse.

1957... Converted into a warehouse for imported tropical fruit from Cuba, managed by a state-owned company “Fruit Vegetables Potatoes”. Known locally as the “banana bunker”.

1990...After German Reunification, the building becomes the property of the federal government.

1992...Techno music and fetish parties mean that the bunker gains a reputation as the hardest club in the world.

1996... Art exhibition Files featuring Olafur Eliasson, Daniel Pflumm, Ugo Rondinone, and others.

2001... Nippon Development Corporation GmbH acquires the bunker.

2003... Christian Boros purchases the bunker to convert it to house his collection.

Photo 

He Xiangyu, Untitled (2017)... Bronze cast egg cartons, gold plated. 

Photo

Rest of evening on own including dinner

Mogg

“Mogg is housed in an old red brick former Jewish girls school on Berlin’s August Strasse, designed by Alexander beers in 1927. The modernist stark exterior of the school come hospital is belied almost by the colorful art deco tiling in the communal areas. The building's appearance, combined with its long history makes this a cultural must-see in itself.

mogg was added to this eclectic mix in 2012 and quickly established itself as an institute on the Berlin culinary scene. the menu is speckled with home comfort staples such as matza ball soup and new york cheesecake (locally known as the best in town), which sits comfortably aside seasonal salads and of course, the home cured and smoked pastrami- for which the deli is famous.”

The shop interior.

Photo Link

A very serious photo of myself with my Rueben sammo... Pastrami, swiss cheese, Russian dressing, pickled cabbage toasted on a half rye bread with a side of coleslaw and a pickle. 

Café Am Neuen See

I had to walk off my Rueben, I met up with some friends at this beer garden within Tiergarten. It’s a pretty spot worthing stopping by for some beer/wine.

The view of the large venue from the dock 

Photo Link

Cuore De Vetro

We then journeyed over to this gelato shop that also seems to serve up many other wonderful things (baked goods, charcuterie, drinks). They are open until 11 PM, making it a great place to stop while out with friends. 

A view of the interior front. The space is really cool, with a nice seating area out front. 

WEDNESDAY

8:15 Meet to depart for group visit on public transport

9:00- 10:30 Group Visit: The Little Sun Project 

“The Little Sun Project is a Berlin-based socially and environmentally conscious initiative that was founded by artist Olafur Eliasson and engineer Frederik Ottesen. Together, Eliasson and Ottesen designed a solar lamp that is sold to entrepreneurs in off-grid communities to work towards creating local businesses while also providing a source of sustainable and reliable light. “

Inside the Little Sun office.

Depart on foot for visit 11:00- 12:00 

Group Visit: Inken Behrmann, an activist from Ende Gelände Volkspark Friedrichshain We will have an informal talk about the work for ending the coal industry in Germany. 

“Ende Gelaende is a broad alliance of people from the anti-nuclear and anti-coal movements, the Rhineland and Lausitz climate camps and the Hambacher Forest anti-coal campaign. They are from grassroots climate action groups, large environmental organizations, left political groups and many other campaigns, groups, and networks. 

Ende Gelaende all share the belief that to stop climate change we need to take action ourselves, using civil disobedience as a powerful signal for real action to put our climate before profit.“

Time on own including lunch

Engelberg

“A visit at Engelberg is a great way to experience a proper German breakfast, which traditionally consists of sourdough bread and rolls served with of loads of charcuterie, cheeses, and spreads. The secret to Engelberg is simple: The crew sources the best goods from all over the country and serves it on a beautiful sidewalk patio.“

The sidewalk patio, it was a wonderful day and a wonderful visit. Everyones food was delicious, this place is most definitely worth the visit if nearby.

Farthest left (somewhat out of view): eggs with smoked ham, German rye, fresh tomato. Then we have gulasch with bread, spaetzle with ham, a boiled sausage with a pretzel and mustard, gulasch with spaetzle, salads. They also have a wonderful selection of drinks.

14:45 Meet at giant TV tower in Alexanderplatz for bike tour 

15:00- 18:00 Group Activity: Fat Tire Bike Tour

Our guide brought us to a number of different historical landmarks throughout Berlin. It was a better time than I had expected, it was a nice day for a bike ride. 

Humboldt University

One of the world’s most influential universities in the 19th and 20th century, linked to major breakthroughs in physics and other disciplines by its professors... such as Albert Einstein. It was the site of one of Nazi Germany’s largest book burnings, the Book Burning Memorial is now in the center of the pavilion.

Berlin Wall

Still standing portion, most of which was torn down in 1989. 

Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe

There are multiple interpretations to the memorial, as nothing explicitly suggests its purpose. There are 2,711 concrete slabs of different heights, laid upon the ground of different elevation. Walking further into the monument, one is surrounded by the granite slabs.

Brandenburg Gate

Altes Museum

Berlin Cathedral

18:15 Group Dinner Good Bank 

“We are the first vertical-farm-to-table-restaurant in the world.

We grow our own vegetables and salads – right before your eyes and for your culinary pleasure. In doing this, we transform unused urban areas into productive farms from which produce can be harvested and used fresh.

We avoid using any kinds of pesticides or genetically modified seeds and protect the environment by removing the need for long cold chains, transportation and packaging waste.

It doesn’t get fresher than this – and it’s a difference you can taste. Our salad leaves also contain more nutrients than those farmed using conventional agricultural methods.

Our vision is to produce all our food self-sufficiently – starting with the three self-grown lettuce and vegetable varieties we currently offer. Others are set to follow.

We hope to play a role in the development and promotion of an increased awareness of sustainability.”

This visit was a lot of fun and the food and drink were simple and delicious. We were served a pumpkin soup, a combination of different salads and bowls, and desert... along with wine, beer, or non-alcoholic tonics and juices. We were given a jar of local honey as a souvenir. 

Rest of evening on own 

Klunkerkranich

“It doesn't get much more Berlin than Klunkerkranich, a makeshift bar on the top floor of an abandoned parking garage in the middle of Neukölln. Equipped with one of the best views over the city and stocked with plenty off cold drinks and savory snacks, this place is one of the ultimate late night bars in Berlin. Stick around for its famous after-hour parties.”

This place was really cool and is definitely worth the visit when in Berlin, take the elevator inside the mall up to the fifth floor... follow the signs to this unusual oasis amongst the city.

Photo

THURSDAY

8:15 Meet in the lobby to depart for the group visit 

9.00 – 11.30 Group Visit Agora Energiewende 

“In 2012, the European Climate Foundation and the Mercator Foundation founded Agora Energiewende to tackle the challenges posed by the energy transition. Its official mandate is to develop academically rigorous and politically feasible pathways for transforming energy systems toward clean energy in Germany and across the globe. Because its core funding comes from philanthropic organizations, Agora is fully autonomous, operating independently of business interests and political pressures. Within the framework of some international projects, Agora receives public funds in the form of grants.“

11:30 Lunch & time on own 

Azzam Restaurant

“Famous for extraordinarily tasty fatteh and hummus, the Palestinian owners of Azzam have created a true melting pot for hungry diners of all stripes to experience the cultural and culinary diversity of Neukölln.”

One of the many places brought up through immigration to Berlin. The space is a meeting place for locals and visitors alike, the place was packed... and the kitchen was booming as fresh ingredients were thrown together and tossed out on large plates of deliciousness. 

Gamäldegalerie

“The Gemäldegalerie boasts one of the world’s most important collections of European painting ranging from the 13th to 18th century. Masterpieces from all epochs in the history of art are on permanent display here, including paintings by Jan van Eyck, Pieter Bruegel, Albrecht Dürer, Raphael, Titian, Caravaggio, Peter Paul Rubens, Rembrandt, and Jan Vermeer van Delft. The gallery is especially proud of its strong collection of German and Italian painting from the 13th to 16th century and painting from the Low Countries dating from the 15th to 17th century.“

Hieronymus Bosch ... Triptych of the Temptation of St. Anthony (1501)

Peter Paul Rubens ... Christ Giving the Keys to St. Peter (1614)

Rembrandt ... Self-Portrait with Velvet Beret (1634)

One of Rembrandt’s etching, there was an entire exhibition on his own and his students etching. It is difficult to discern between his own and his student’s work.

Caravaggio ... Amor Vincit Omnia (Love Conquers All) (1602)

Titian ... Venus and Cupid (1549)

Raphael ... Madonna Colonna (1508)

Sandro Botticelli ... Portrait of a Young Woman (1480s)

18:30 Group Dinner

FRIDAY

9.15 Depart for the academic visit by public transport 

10:00 – 11:30 Group Visit: UfaFabrik: International Center for Community and Ecology Viktoriastr. 

“Internationally, the UfaFabrik enjoys considerable recognition as a leading demonstration in the areas of culture, community, and ecology. The UfaFabrik Berlin is a living example of the possibilities that exist for creating attractive, socially and ecologically just ways of living in a metropolis. 

We will discuss sustainable energy at the center and how community involvement has been crucial to the development of UfaFabrik Berlin. A site which had been a wasteland for over half a century. Along with friends, fans, activists, and neighbors, the group cleared away rubbish, built transportable organic vegetable plots and reaped the first fruits of their labor.”

From the green roof of one of the buildings, much of which contains solar panels. The energy is sold to the local community when there is a surplus and bought back when there is a shortage.

Walking along the path of the community. The buildings originally made as a film factory now house all sorts of things... a dojo, music studios, schools, a fire-oven bakery, and more. 

Depart for hotel by public transport 

14.00 Pick up luggage at hotel and depart for main train station by public transport 

15.06 Depart on train (EC 174) for Hamburg 

17.11 Arrive in Hamburg and switch to train to Copenhagen 

17.28 Depart Hamburg for Copenhagen (EC39) 

The sunset seen through the train window.

22.26 Arrive in Copenhagen 

I arrived to the energetic bustle of culture night in Copenhagen, its very unfortunate that we didn’t plan around culture night. It would have been worth it to come home early in order to be a part of this special night.

I was happy to be back in Copenhagen, I went home to make some oatmeal and went to bed.