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thevelvetseries · 4 years

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Voice In My Head (Part 1)

Summary : This is the story about Ashley Ackles and how her life turned upside down.

Pairing : Jensen Ackles x Daughter Reader / Danneel Ackles x Daughter Reader

Warnings : Fluff, Angst, Eating Disorder, Self Inflicting Cuts, Self Hate, Attempted Suicide, Minor Drug Use.

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

It’s hard to know where to begin telling you about this. I wonder if there’s any such thing as beginnings.

3 MONTHS AGO...

At this point in Ashley’s life everything had been normal. She was an A+ Grade student with a bright future ahead of her. She had her loving family surrounded around her and had good health. She had her 5 best friends Veronica, Selena, Bram (Abraham), Taylor and Matt (my boyfriend). She had been friends with Veronica and Selena since they were in kindergarten, she then met Bram in middle school then Taylor and Matt in High School and they six of them because the best of friends. They do everything together. They travel to school together every morning, go to the mall every Friday after school and talk about what friends usually talk about.

This is where our story starts. Ashley, Veronica and Selena were walking down the school hallway from just having gym class and was going to meet the boys for lunch. Once they get to the cafeteria they wait in line to get their food before going to find Matt, Taylor and Bram sitting at there normal table. I sit next to Matt and give him a quick kiss before starting my lunch. We were all eating and taking about the party that was happening on Saturday at Justin’s house. Justin is one of the school popular football players and always had parties whenever his parents went out of town for a weekend. Who knew this was going to be the downfall in Ashley’s life, the moment that changed her life forever.

“So who’s driving who Saturday?” Matt says while drinking some of his water.

“I don’t mind driving, it’s not like I’m gonna drink anyway.” I say while biting into my chicken salad sandwich.

“That makes sense too, you have 7 seats in your car.” Veronica said with a little laugh.

We spent the rest of lunch just talking and eating before finishing the rest of the day and heading home. Since tomorrow was the party we decided to skip the mall this week. Me and Matt went to my house today to do homework and watch TV. I pull my car into the driveway. Mums car wasn’t there meaning she was picking my younger siblings up from school and dad was away at work filming, he was coming home for the weekend though. We get out of the car and head inside get some snacks and head up to my bedroom. We were sitting on my bed with our work spread around us.

“Ok. What did you get for number 16?” Matt asked while fiddling with his pencil.

“Wait. There’s no number 16” I say while going through my papers.

“Hmmmm hmmmm” Matt started humming, in the cute annoying way he always does.

“STOP!” I say while pushing him a little.

“I’m just making sure your awake.” He said with a little smile forming on his lips.

“I’m awake, there’s just something about studying in a bed.” I reply. Since when we normally study together were on the floor with pillows.

“Well I guess I shouldn’t be complaining right. I’m in bed with a smoking hot, intelligent girl.” Matt started off saying before I interrupted him saying “women” which he corrects himself “women”. Then I continue saying “and your on the bed, not in it.” I say with a little smile.

“And I’m worried about math” Matt said.

We continued working for a little more, during that time mum had come home from picking up my younger siblings from school, and we had started working on the the subject we needed to get through, when I remembered something. I got off the bed Matt watching the walk across the room and going into my closet coming out with a black piece of fabric. I chucked them at him.

“You left your boxers here Monday”. I say with a smile.

“Oh no. I left them on purpose. You know to remind you of the wonderful night we had.” He said before grabbing my waist and kissing up my neck, which is when I begin to start giggling. Suddenly there was a knock on my bedroom door.

“Come in” I spoke loudly trying to stop giggling.

“Hello.” Mum said when she entered. “How’s the studying going” she asked.

“It’s going well. Nearly done” I reply,

“Good. Matt you joining us for dinner tonight?” She asked.

“No. Not tonight mum is making her famous spaghetti tonight.” He replied.

“Ok, also remember you father will be home tonight. So we are having his favourite” he should be home around 7.” Mum said before leaving the room.

Matt ends up leaving around 6pm to head home. I packed up all my work and put it away before heading downstairs for the night to spend time with my family. We were all in the living room when we heard the front door open and close. Dad was home. He had just finished filming season 14 of his show and was finally on hiatus. While dad was putting his luggage on the floor we all got up and welcomed him home before having dinner.

“So how was everyone’s day” dad asked. That’s when Zepp, Arrow and JJ start telling three different stories at once.

“Wow wow wow. Slooow down. One at a time. One at a time.” He interrupted. The one by one the all went through what happened to them. While this was happening I continued to eat my food, mums food is always delicious. Especially her spaghetti.

“Ashley, what about you?” Dad asked before taking another mouthful of his dinner.

“Not much really. Went to my lessons. Had gym. Had lunch, we didn’t go to the mall this week since there’s a party tomorrow night and then Matt came over after school so we could study together.” I said.

“What party?” He replied.

“Some guy called Justin. Don’t worry I won’t be drinking, I’m driving us all there and then home. So all I’m drinking is soda.”

“Well that’s ok. Just make sure you get home at a reasonable hour please. I don’t want to be up all night worrying because you’re not home.” Dad said while taking a forkful of his food.

“I promise I’ll be home before midnight.” I replied.

“That’s all I ask.” He replied.

For the rest of the night we spend together as a family. We all relaxed in the living room watching movies and snacking on popcorn and different snacks. It was nice. We don’t get to do this often since dad is away at work for too many months during the year. We all started to go to bed around 11pm, before I went to sleep I got my outfit ready for the party tomorrow night and went off to sleep.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

I could hear the beeping of my alarm like it was in a tunnel getting louder and louder. Slowly I started to wake up, I reached out my arm and turned off my alarm and started to get out of bed. I put on my slippers and my dressing gown on and headed into the bathroom and started getting ready for the day ahead. Around 8am I was finished and made my way downstairs. While walking down the hallway of her house she could smell the sizzling delicious smell of bacon cooking coming from the kitchen. When the kitchen comes into view she see her dad and mum standing in the kitchen cooking breakfast together. I make my way over to the kitchen table and start to pour myself a glass of orange juice that was already on the table.

“Morning sweetie.” Mum said when she saw me walking across the room.

“Morning.” I say before drinking half of my glass.

“How did you sleep last night?” Mum asked

“I had a good night sleep.” I replied.

We went along with our morning. Around 8pm I was all ready for the party and texted everyone I was ready and was about to leave to pick everybody up. I made my way downstairs and picked up my car keys from the bowl and walked into the living room.

“I’m about to leave. I’ll try and get home before midnight ok. I’ll text you when we leave the party so you don’t have to worry ok.” I say from the doorway to my dad.

“That’s ok sweetie. We’re not going anywhere tonight so we’ll be home.” He replied.

I got in my car, I collected everyone from their houses and made it to Justin’s house. I parked my car on his street and we all made our way inside.

“Um.. 11:45 at the car.” I say so we all agree on a time to head home.

“Now let’s have some fun.” Matt said while he came closer to me to give me a kiss under my ear, which caused me to giggle.

We all spent our night dancing around the backyard drinking. I only have 1 drink and stayed drinking cola and water for the rest of the night. The party was in full swing and everyone was drinking and dancing and were having a good time. It currently 11:45pm when we got in the car and left the party.

We all got in the car still laughing and having fun from the night that had just happened. I drove for about 10 minutes to Veronica house where I was dropping her off and Selena since she was staying over at her house next was Bram, then it was just Tyler, Matt and me. I was currently sitting at a red light singing along to the radio and just being our normal selves. After about 2 minutes light changed to green and I slowly started to move. When I reached the middle of the intersection of the road, out of the corner of my eye I could suddenly see bright white lights coming straight to us and hitting the car from the passenger side. The place were Matt was sitting. At first I didn’t know what to do. Blood was coming down my head from where I hit it on my door window. Matt wasn’t moving or talking and sight was getting shorter and shorter. The last thing I remember before I passed out was that I could see flashing lights and hear sirens.

Voices In My Head Taglist

@scatchia @spngirl05 @myopiamystical @dracosassismine @maia-skye @vicmc624 @blqcklust @cassiwalkinatural @ray-l-00@superspackles @mamanoota5 @bea789 @pooks06 @m1s10@youngnickeleggseagle @overthinkingsoulcat @kettnerjanea@vildemc @izzy0731 @blogaboutmylife2 @101stshippersquad@spnfamily-j2 @hgs2018 @desiredposion @weightlessdevil@alliedimlerr @lifeofanerd164 @hettolini @spneditsdestiel@smoothdogsgirl @weirdoforeves @lovingbrock @dannyo000@supergirl000983 @jensenandjaredsgirl0516 @sarsmilesah@thisshallbegrand @thehalediaries @generallyclumsy @hoboal87 @snowangle1994

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deanxcasficrecs · 4 years

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Good old case fics

So, I know it has been an illegally long time since I have posted a rec. Like, a year. On my defense, plenty has happened. I moved to a new country (again because I don't know where I want to live), and Admin A had a baby, and I started my own business, and yeah. I've got excuses, but I also come bearing gifts! I have new recs! Yay!

And now about the rec. There are times you need to get back to basics and read a good old case fic or two. You know, about saving people, hunting things, falling in love with your angel friend, the whole family business thing. Read these when you want to get back to the simple times when it was about killing a monster here and there while figuring out your gay feelings. – Admin J

* * *

Title: on the levee

Author: museaway

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Words: 2,450 – Finished

Admin’s assessment: ★ ★ ★ ★

Admin J’s notes: I see the scenes happening in the show. I love how well museaway knows how to write all Team Free Will characters and when reading, I just see everything in my mind, like I was watching the show. This. Is. Amazing. Also, let’s take a moment to talk about how cool you can be in a hospital. Last time I was in one, I wasn’t half this cool :’D Then again, I passed out in a waiting room and I had a the worst food poisoning ever because I ate ice cream. Not my best day.

Summary: Five times Dean says "we're just friends" and the one time he doesn't.

( Read here )

Title: mortage on my body, lien on my soul

Author: ceeainthereforthat

Rating: Explicit

Words: 23,017 – Finished

Admin’s assessment: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Admin J’s notes: When I started reading this fic for the first time I sent this message to my friend: “Do you know when you find a fic that makes your heart skip a beat and it just takes your breath away and you’re like ‘marry me now fanfic’?” Well, I think that says it all. I love case fics and I love when there’s something clever in them. For this fic, I didn’t know what’s the case and setup from the beginning and I was super happy with that. The characters were very real to me and I loved all three TFW members in it. The smut was super amazing and it had the best parts of an old-school case fic and an AU fic. Just read it.

Summary: About the author: J. Lee Harrison grew up in Port Orchard, WA. He lives in New Mexico and enjoys traveling throughout the US. His novel Haunted won a Bram Stoker award for Best First Novel. You can learn more at www.jleeharrison.com.

Cas laughs every time he reads his bio. If it were honest, it would say “Castiel Jones is the author of seventeen novels, all written in states he's visited, published under five different pen names. He lives nowhere in particular - after years on the run from his own real-life horror story, he's forgotten how to stay in one place."Although it could be worse, he supposes. He could always be one of the characters in one of his stories.

Some nights, he worries that maybe he is.

When Dean Winchester recognizes him as one of Dean's favorite horror authors, he should be packing up to leave Minnesota. But the handsome, mysterious bad boy who loves books, lives on the road, and tells lies for a living feels real and solid, in contrast to the nightmare that follows his life no matter how far he runs.

( Read here )

Title: They Came Together

Author: teller_of_tales_and_hero_of_songs

Rating: Mature

Words: 14,348 – Finished

Admin’s assessment: ★ ★ ★ ★

Admin J’s notes: Sometimes you just need to read about investigating a super random case :’D I could live like this. I mean, my life could be a musical. Wouldn’t mind.

Summary: It all starts with a case. When a town near the bunker turns into the singing, dancing world of a cheesy musical, Sam goes to investigate. He doesn’t find the mysterious musical “monster,” but it ends up following him back to the bunker- and it decides making Dean Winchester as uncomfortable as possible is it’s sole delight. It does this by launching Dean and Castiel into the cliche world of a Romantic Comedy.

In other words, this is the one where everything is a cliche, the universe seems to be pushing Dean and Cas together, Gabriel is a dick, and Dean is that self-aware Disney character that always questions why everyone is singing.

( Read here )

Title: To build a home

Author: annodominique

Rating: Explicit

Words: 13,567 – Finished

Admin’s assessment: ★ ★ ★ ★

Admin J’s notes: So many of my favorites in one fic: fallen Cas, Cas saving Dean’s ass, hunter Cas, Destiel, case… It’s so good! And so well written. Who are you author, why I don’t know about you (yet)?

Summary: It feels like a punch in the gut everytime Cas says 'thank you'. 'Thank you for letting me stay, Dean,''Thank you for not kicking me out,' 'Thank you for letting me borrow your old clothes,' 'Thank you for driving me,' 'Thank you for buying me food,' Fucking thank you this thank you that. Like he's being given a piece of heaven.

How Dean finally forgave Cas for everything he sacrificed for Dean. How Dean finally learned to forgive himself for everything he put Cas through.

( Read here )

P.S. I noticed some old recs have broken links. When I have time, I'm trying to go through them and fix what can be fixed. Also, some super good fics like Everytown, USA, and Freefall have been deleted by the authors, so sorry for everyone who's trying to get to those through this account. I hate when authors delete their fics.

#destiel #destiel fanficition #destiel fics #destiel fan fic rec #destiel fic rec #case fic #non au #admin j

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thethistlegirlwrites · 4 years

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Whumptober day 30 (Now where did that come from?)

Okay so it’s not all that whumpy but I have been having SO MANY feels about John’s parents the past few days so I ended up writing their first meeting!

Amarillo TX, 1963

Stephen Stoker is supposed to be somewhere else right now.

Technically, he's supposed to be meeting his host family. The Morgans, descendants of the founder of the Amarillo agency, and related to one of the hunters his grandfather immortalized by a different name in his most famous novel, are probably wondering what happened to their wayward houseguest. He's supposed to be here to teach PR strategies. His height isn't the only thing he inherited from Grandpa Bram, he's also an expert at weaving stories that conceal truths hiding in plain sight.

But he can't ignore his instincts, and those instincts have him on the track of what he can only assume is a powerful vampire. He knows he really ought to leave this to the local teams, but the guy got off HIS plane. Slept the whole flight over, aisle seat, grumbled about the windows when he got on, and pulled a fedora down over his whole face. A battered fedora that's seen better days, and had some suspicious stains on the brim. And most damningly, he tucked his carry-on bag under the seat when he sat down. And when he pulled it out, there was a smear of dirt left on the blue carpet.

Air travel has changed the way vampires make their way to new shores. The speed of travel means there's no time for raising suspicion, not even a need to feed on the journey. Vampires have the capacity to spread further and faster than ever. The only issue is the lethargy caused by sunlight, but choosing a flight that arrives in the night avoids that problem entirely.

Still, vampires don't leave home without a purpose. Transporting home earth in small quantities is risky, much riskier than shipping whole boxes. This vampire is here for a meeting of some sort.

And calling for backup could mean letting him get away. Not for the first time, Stephen wishes there was a portable means of communication easily available to hunters. He doesn't have time to stop at a pay phone.

The vampire stops outside a disreputable-looking club on a corner. He says something to the man standing on the corner, a hat pulled low over his face, and the man watching the door nods, letting the vampire pass. Fangs gleam under the streetlights when the man turns back to his vigil, tilting his hat slightly to get a better view of the street.

Stephen ducks into the shadows and considers his next move. He's not sure if he'll even be allowed inside that place. Vampires often like to keep to themselves.

He jumps at the sound of something moving in the alley, before he realizes it's just a cat scavenging. Tough luck for that stray, vampire clubs don't serve real food, just various types of alcohol and lots of blood.

The thought gives him an idea, and he slips back along the alley to where there's a door that most likely was used by the kitchen staff when this place was frequented by humans. Vampires like taking over existing locations. He picks the lock, much harder given that the style is different from the British type he's used to working, and steps into a dark, dusty kitchen.

So far, so good. No one thought to post a guard at the alley door, but there will be one at the door to the main room of the club, he's sure. He peeks through the dusty glass, watching the vampire leaning against the wall on the other side. He isn't sure what he plans to do, exactly. He's carrying only his travel pouch with its shorter stakes and a small amount of powdered garlic in a bag. Hardly enough to make a raid on a whole club. And yet...whatever that vampire came to do, he came a long way. There are plenty of things that shouldn't be changing hands, especially across the ocean.

Stephen is still biding his time when the room outside seems to become slightly brighter. He realizes stage lights have been turned on, and almost as one, every vampire in the room turns, heads fixed on what's now visible even to Stephen's human vision. Taking advantage of the distraction, Stephen pushes the door forward just enough to slip out, grateful that with his height came an awkward lankiness he has yet to grow out of.

Now that he's inside the club, he can see what's attracted the attention of all the vampires. Hosts. Stephen surveys the group of young women, in fashionable dresses with their necks adorned with velvet bands. Most of them look pale, a few have clearly done this before, drawn back most likely by addictions to the vampire bite. Others look fresher, less washed out. Literal new blood.

One by one, they walk to the edge of the stage and down the steps, mingling with the crowd, singling out admirers or being chosen, led away to dark corners or the curtained alcoves designed for the purpose of giving some privacy to a feeding. Stephen makes his way slowly through the crowd. At least the scent of human sweat won't be an immediate reason for every vampire here to turn on him. Even at night, the heat of the Texas desert seems to cling to everything.

Just as he catches sight of the vampire he was following, one hand resting on a leather briefcase set on a table, Stephen stops short. One of the hosts, a short, full-figured young woman with brightly tinted lips, wanders up to the vampire, trailing her brown fingers up his arm. She flips wild dark curls over her shoulder and laughs inanely. Her red dress makes her copper skin seem to glow in the dark club, and Stephen thinks she must be new. Hosts who've been fed on couldn't look that alive.

The vampire looks at the watch on his wrist, then stands up, grabbing his briefcase, looping his free arm around the woman's waist and leading her toward one of the curtained alcoves along the wall. Stephen's seen the same thing many times before; he's a field hunter as well as a PR expert, but something about this situation is different enough to attract his attention.

There's something about the way that host walks. And when he realizes what it is, his own blood seems to freeze. She's wearing flats, not heels, and the rolling, balanced movement of her stride is the kind of walk that every hunter knows.

He follows at a distance. He doesn't want to interfere in her hunt, she's most likely planned this carefully, and any change in her plans could get her killed. He waits as casually as he can beside the alcove where she's disappeared, pretending he's just another vampire waiting for a turn.

There's a sudden snarling scuffle from the area near the stage, probably a couple of vampires fighting over a host. At the sound, the curtain parts slightly and the young woman peeks out, only inches from Stephen's shoulder.

She jumps and looks up, her hand coming up with a silver knife in it, the blade smeared with a hint of blood in the groove. Stephen raises his hands. "Not a vamp." He smiles enough to show his teeth. She relaxes, lowering the knife. When she steps out, there's a handful of folded papers, stained with red, in her other hand. Stephen is sure that's what was in the briefcase.

Her velvet choker is gone, but there's a thin silver chain that must have been tucked up underneath it, and a medal that Stephen recognizes from some of the Catholic hunters at his home agency. The incredibly obscure St. Marcellus, patron saint of vampire hunters. He wonders if she was wearing it under the choker. That would be one hell of a dramatic reveal.

She takes a step toward the kitchen door, and Stephen follows. She must have planned to use his entrance as her exit strategy. It's as good as any. She frowns at him, but waits until they've both slipped through the door to the alley to say anything.

"What are you doing following me?" She whispers, her knife held with a dangerous casualness that Stephen knows could have it at his throat in a breath. "I don't have a shadowing student right now. So talk fast, or I'll throw you back to those vamps inside."

"I'm not here for you. I'm..." He frowns, running a hand through his red curls. It's hard to explain. "I came here to teach a class at the Academy, but there was a vampire on my flight. The one you just killed. I was following him to find out what he was doing coming all the way from London."

The woman raises an eyebrow. "One of my informants told me a courier with letters from Grigoras himself was coming into town." She tucks the papers into her dress. "We've intercepted the recipient already."

Stephen feels a chill slip down his spine. Grigoras. One of the First Circle, who is rumored to have followed Dracula to England but has never been seen in person there. He can only imagine what dangerous secrets those letters might hold.

"You say you're here to teach at the Academy? I can give you a ride back." The woman slips the knife back into a sheath concealed in her wide belt, then holds out her hand. "Sonora Morgan."

It looks like he's met his host family after all.

"Stephen Stoker." She blinks, probably in recognition of the name, and maybe also realizing that he's the instructor her family agreed to board.

There's a sound from inside the club, and Sonora tenses. "We should go." Someone's probably found the body. She leads him down the alley, cutting through a side street to a dimly-lit road with a few vehicles parked along it, and even fewer lights in the houses.

She slides into a heavily modified '36 Ford coupe whose dark-blue paint blends into the shadows, turning it over and pulling away from the curb with a screech of tires almost before Stephen's closed his door (he temporarily forgot that the drivers here sit on the left side of the car and was very confused). The engine roars, clearly a high-performance upgrade from the original model. He's heard that American hunters have a flair for creating their own specially modified vehicles.

"Sorry I walked into your hunt," He apologizes as the car speeds along toward the edge of the city.

"Sorry I threatened to let those vamps drain you," she replies with a genuine smile, effortlessly whipping the car around a turn seconds before the light changes. "Not the best first impression of someone you're about to spend two months in the same house with."

He grins, feeling the wind whipping through the open windows of the car turning his hair into a hopeless mess. "On the contrary. You're everything I would have expected from a Morgan." He's always loved the stories Grandpa Bram told about the daring, chivalrous Texan, and now he's met a relative of that man in the flesh.

"Oh really?" Her smile is the kind that says she takes that as a challenge. "Well, we'll see about that."

Taglist: @nade2308 @cmvorra @bands-space-and-monsters-oh-my @catwingsathena @asloudasalone @anguishmacgyver @flowing-river24 @myhusbandsasemni @floh673 @teddythecat1234 @bkworm4life4 @viawrites-andacts

#whumptober 2020 #now where did that come from #magic & silver #stephen stoker #sonora morgan #day 30 actually #I'm not tracking this week

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spierfics · 5 years

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The Lane I Travel - Spierfeld Fic

yourefucked-thebitchofliving prompted: Hey I don’t know if you’re still doing fics but if you are could you pretty please do one where bram has an anxiety attack for the first time and doesn’t realize what’s happening but he’s scared? And like Simon immediately knows what’s up and comforts him? I would love if you could write this for me!! I love your fics❤️

Bram had no idea how his day could possibly get any worse but knew if he could just get through his last class and soccer practice he’d make it through the day. That was the only thing that mattered right now, making it through the day.

Though he didn’t have much to go home to either. His mother was out of town for the entire week, and the house had eerie loneliness to it. He’d ask Simon to come over, but Simon’s parents had subtly mentioned that Simon’s grades had been slipping due to the fact that he was always distracted.

Bram knew he was to blame for that. He was to blame for everything.

Simon didn’t have too much faith in his ability to pick up on small cues, as Leah had often implied. But he knew there was something wrong with Bram. He’d not been texting him as often, and perhaps it was the end of the semester and Bram was pushing to get all A’s. He understood Bram’s need to excel, it was one of the things he loved most about his boyfriend, but the fact of the matter was that Simon simply missed him.

They’d usually meet in the school parking lot on Fridays and Simon decided to leave rehearsal early to catch a little bit of Bram practicing. Simon knew that watching Bram playing soccer would settle his heart a little.

As he made his way to the empty bleachers he caught sight of Bram, and if Simon was honest, Bram seemed a little off his game. After a few minutes, Simon saw Bram miss a pass from Garrett and that set something off. Simon was off his seat and running on the pitch without a second thought.

Bram had no idea what was happening to him, all he could think of was the ‘C-‘ he’d just received in History and after that, he didn’t want to think. If he thought too much, he knew his emotions could take over, and that was not okay. Especially not at school. Not where every act of his was only thought in parallel relation to his sexuality. No, he wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of defining who he was.

But missing that pass from Garrett had caused his coach to yell at him to “Focus or get off the field!” and Bram froze in place. Every thought he’d been trying to push aside this entire week came crashing down at once.

Not being smart enough to get the grades to get into college.

Not achieving the scholarships he envisioned.

Not making his parents proud.

Not being a good boyfriend to Simon.

There was too much around him and nothing at all and Bram couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know how to breathe anymore and Bram was sure this was what drowning felt like.

He felt a small pressure squeezing his forearm and when he looked up Simon was right there in front of him. Simon then put both his hands on Bram’s cheeks, cradling his face and told him to breathe deeply.

He even acted it out slowly, his thumb on Bram’s cheekbone, brushing it gently to the rhythm of his breaths.

Bram didn’t realize when, but he’d started to take in some air. He felt his shivering stop and his heart rate slow.

“I’m okay,” he said quietly to Simon.

“I don’t think so Bram,” Simon shook his head, his hands still holding Bram’s face. “Come on, I’ll drive you home,”

Once Simon was sure Bram was carefully tucked into bed and comfortable enough to be left alone for a few moments he went to the kitchen and made Bram a cup of Chamomile tea, just like Simon’s father would make for him.

He wasn’t sure if Bram would take honey, so he just decided to put some in any way since it tasted better with it.

When he walked into Bram’s room, his boyfriend was sitting up in bed with a worried expression on his face. “You didn’t have to do that,” he told Simon.

“But I wanted to,” Simon set the tray on Bram’s side table and slid under the covers next to Bram.

He opened his arms and invited Bram to lay his head on his chest, a swap of their usual cuddling position, but Simon knew exactly how comforting it was.

As Bram lay his head on Simon’s chest, Simon reached down to give him a small kiss on his forehead.

“I know how it can feel like too much sometimes,” Simon said to him softly.

Bram took a deep breath in, almost refusing to exhale and Simon felt like he was holding in too much for one person to bear.

“And even though you feel like you don’t want to stress me out with all that’s going on in your head, I’m still gonna be here to listen, okay?”

Bram let out a choked ‘okay’ in response and Simon noticed a tear fall down Bram’s cheek.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong,” Simon continued, “but you can tell me when you need me because I want to be there for you. Just like you’re there for me,”

Bram shifted his position, sitting up a little so that he could wrap his arms around Simon and bury his head in his shoulder. Simon could tell by his shaking that Bram was about to cry, and it took all of his willpower to not cry with him. There were times where he needed to be the one that was grounded, this was one of them.

He rubbed Bram’s back, allowing him to let go of everything he’d been holding back for what seemed like too long. Right now all he had to do was hold on tight. To make sure that Bram knew that if he felt like he was falling, Simon would be there to catch him.

#love simon #love simon fanfiction #love simon fanfic #spierfeld fanfiction #spierfeld #spierfeld fanfic #svthsa #svthsa fanfic #svthsa fanfiction #simon spier #bram greenfeld #simon vs the homosapiens agenda

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transylvaniatrails-blog · 4 years

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FIRST SEASON

Our first season, the Dracula Trails Route and the ADV Bike Rider Magazine article...

April 2018 was the start of our first season and by December 2017 we already had a few trips booked for the early spring and autumn...Nick has contacted us in early October 2017and requested do ride with us together with his group from Manchester UK. After a few emails the trip was booked and on April 17th we were travelling to Cluj Napoca to pick up seven riders.

The plan was to ride the Dracula Trails Route https://www.transylvaniatrails.com/products. We had everything planned and ready to ride...Nick mentioned in one of his emails that he was in contact with someone from the ADV Bike Rider Magazine https://www.adventurebikerider.com and he advised that we should take lots of pictures during the trip...

The trip was a big success!

A few weeks after the trip we received an email from Alan ( one of the gents from the group ) with a link to ADV Bike Rider Magazine website...And there it was, an article written by Alan published in the Magazine No.47... WOW!

We made a few new friends and we have been lucky to ride together several times since 2018.....

Full article from the Magazine bellow: What's the first thing you think of when it comes of Transylvania? Castles? Sure. The birthplace of Dracula? Certainly. Trail riding? Probably not, but maybe it's about time you should. Seven of us booked a two-day tour with Transylvania Trails in the middle of April this year. The all-inclusive price covered accommodation and food for three nights, bike hire, personal protective equipment/clothing and guide for two day's riding. All that was left for us to do was turn up eager to explore the best that Transylvania had to offer.

Our guide Gabriel ( Gabi ) collected us from the airport at Cluj and took us to what was our base at Nucet, near Sibiu. Bio Haus Cioran Guest House is a larged timber framed chalet baking onto an orchard with forestry beyond. Gabi introduced us to our hosts Mioara and Emil who showed us our rooms. Back downstairs, beer in hand, Gabi showed us the bikes and explained the differences between the Sherco 300 and the "Factory" edition. The nine bikes were lined up at the back of the house, all clean and shiny, lying in wait for our adventure. "Shall we help you lock them away"? we asked? "No need", was the reply. "They'll be fine here". Not like in the UK.

The food at Bio Haus is home made and homegrown traditional romanian fare. Romanians love their soup and each meal started with a bowl so big you could have skipped the main meal and not been hungry. Homemade wine and schnapps completed the delicious three-course meal.

The next morning, after a substantial breakfast, Gabi gave us our riding equipment, including helmet, boots, shirt, trousers, body armour, gloves and goggles. Most of the kit was brand new and we had to take it out of the bags and take the labels off before using it. We then had a pre-ride briefing, where Gabi told us about the bikes, about following his wheel tracks as far as possible and about the dangers in the forests: wild boar, deer, dogs and brown bears! We were led along a track running right next to the guest house, following it uphill and into the countryside beyond. Gabi then left us in a clear- ing on top of a hill to get used to the bikes. Ten minutes later he was back, and we were off.

I had only been riding off-road for about 10 weeks, although I have had road bikes for the past 40 years, and have just bought a Honda CRF2S0L. The braking and changing gears standing up still felt new to me and, coupled with new moto- cross boots and the snatchy throttle of a much more powerful bike, I wondered how I would cope.

We set off over the hillside quite gingerly at first, but then the pace picked up a bit as our confidence grew. The Romanian countryside is quite ditferent to that in the UK. There are no fences or walls and what livestock we did encounter was herd- ed together by dogs with a shepherd present. Gabi had warned us of the dogs prior to setting off. They are the size of Pyrenean mountain dogs and chased us away if we got too close to the sheep. Andy, our most experienced rider, was frightened of dogs so he employed the tactic of putting other bikes between him and them as they chased us. This meant he wasn't picking the best line or concentrating fully and, of course, he subse- quently fell off. At that point, the dogs had fortunately lost interest in him and returned to the flock.

Once Gabi judged we were more comfortable with the bikes we entered the forest. For most of us, this was our favourite section. It was quite open and well lit, with very few bushes. The ground was soft and loose, covered with leaf litter while a few hills, streams and a little mud kept things interesting. In short, it was perfect.

Gabi explained that most of the countryside is state owned and the farmers rent the land for 99 years. There are some private properties, but it seems by and large that you can ride where you want. Having said that, Gabi then showed us a valuable lesson. After a fast-open section, he stopped and gathered us around. We rode slowly a little further and stopped at what appeared to be a small drop. In fact, what lay before us was a sheer drop of at least 30m!

A short road section through a traditional Romanian village led us to a fortified church on a hill. This was to be our lunch stop. A lot of the roads in this area are dirt and the drainage is by a ditch on either side. Don’t even think of lampposts and footpaths, as they don't exist. Nobody in these villages has cars, but there are one or two horse-drawn carts.

Everyone in the villages seemed pleased to see us. The old men sitting under the shade of the trees waved while the barefoot kids at the side of the road put their hands up for us to high five as we rode past.

We took off our riding gear, hung it up to dry and lay on the grass for 10 minutes to get our breath back while Gabi re-fuelled the bikes from containers he had previously dropped at the church. We were led into a traditionally decorated stone room within the restored fortified walls where a table was laid for our midday meal. All meals here are sit down three course aftairs. Soup, of course, traditional chicken stew, and cake, which seemed to be made from cheese and currants.

We set off again, this time at a more leisurely pace, and after about an hour one of the bikes seemed to be starting with a clutch problem. The bike had only done 150 miles from new, but Gabi decided rather than have a problem in a remote area we would wait in a village for a replacement bike. A quick phone call and 45 minutes later, his father-in-law arrived with a replacement bike in the back of a pickup. Gabi has designed each tour to incorporate as much varied terrain as possible. By this time, I was feeling more comfortable on the bike, getting used to the immediate power delivery, even in ‘soft' mode, which I was learning could get me out of trouble where my CRF would bog down and stall. Standing up on the pegs all day was taking its toll, however, and the shoulders and back were beginning to ache.

A lot of the soil in the Transylvanian Highlands is red clay. Even where it was dry, the farm tracks we encountered were slippery. In fact, when we came across deep, wet ruts (my nemesis) on an uphill section, it was almost a relief to gently fall otf, coming to rest in the bushes, which stopped me from rolling down a steep slope. I looked at my back wheel, which had turned into a clay coloured slick. No wonder. More mead- owland, wilderness, and farm tracks followed and at 9pm we emerged from the forest to arrive at our lodgings for the night in Sighisoara. This small town is dominated by an imposing castle on a hill that was once owned by Vlad Dracul or, as we know him, Vlad the Impaler, the inspiration for Bram Stoker's Drocu to. In these parts, he is known as a hero as he was al-leged to have persecuted only those ‘nobles' who were taking advantage of their position to thedetriment of the ‘peasants'.

We pushed the bikes into the courtyard of the little bed and breakfast we were to stay at. Once showered, we walked across the road to a traditional Romanian restaurant where we were shown to our table in the basement. Gabi interpret- ed the menu for us and, of course, there was soup. Andy was intrigued by a starter that Gabi described only as lard. Once it arrived, it turned out that it was indeed a small bowl of lord sprinkled with paprika! It came with a side salad, which he left. All the food was locally sourced and homemade. We left the restaurant just before midnight and it seemed fitting that Gabi gave us a guided tour of the castle.

The next morning, one of our group wasn't feeling well and decided to give it a miss. The rest of us set off back to the first night’s base via a different route, all off-road of course.

The previous evening, Gabi had asked us what kind of riding we wanted to do that day and one of the group had mentioned hills. “Ride across that field as fast as you can. By the time you hit the jump you need to be flat out in third gear, then enter the forest and keep going straight uphill”. Easier said than done... The best I managed was two thirds of the way up before stalling, falling oft and tumbling about torn before I could even stand up. Exhausted after my third attempt, I took the chicken run around the side of the hill. I was learning all the time. Choose your line, head up, weight forward and use your clutch. If I'd had the energy to go a fourth time, I might have made it.

The afternoon of the second day was what life's memories are all about and it was an afternoon I will remember for many years. Riding standing up, flat out across miles of undulating open meadow land with the forest on one side and the stunning snow-capped Carpathian Mountains on the other was bliss. It's hard to keep your eye on where you should be going with views like that.

We all loved riding in the forests and so that's where Gabi took us to finish off the second day, weaving in and out of the trees, up and down the hills and through the streams.

Every now and again we'd catch a glimpse of a deer as we startled it and it ran away. Fortunately, no brown bears though. The second day ended at the place where it all began; where we had been practising on the bikes when we first got them. We were back to Bio Haus for 6pm, where Emil was preparing that evening’s barbecue. We parked the bikes and collapsed on the sprawling porch overlooking the orchard, tired and aching, beer in hand. We had ridden 180 miles, all off-road. Had we enjoyed it? Well, as soon as we got home we booked to go back again in September. This time for three days instead of two. I’d better hit the gym.

The Transylvanian Highlands is a stunningly beautiful area, completely unspoiled. The riding can't be compared to anything we have in the UK. My green-laning experience, for example, is limited to rocky tracks in the Peak District and is completely unlike the open rolling countryside or the technical hilly forests we traveled through.

The whole area is steeped in history as, time after time, the country has been invaded and the various occupants have add- ed their traditions and culture. Tourism in this area seems to be in its infancy and the general thrust seems to be for skilled craftsmen to restore buildings using traditional materials and methods. There also seems to be conscious effort for the tour- ism to benefit the local towns and villages, and we'd implore you to see what its about. You won't regret it.

#transylvania trails #romania enduro tours #enduro romania #enduro tours romania

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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House of Dark Shadows: The Craziest Vampire Movie You’ve Never Seen

https://ift.tt/37TdnN3

This article contains House of Dark Shadows spoilers.

In 1970 House of Dark Shadows flipped the vampire subgenre on its head. While certainly a B-horror in the Hammer mold, this chiller wasn’t satisfied with one bloodsucker, or even two. Instead Dark Shadows would turn nearly its whole cast into the ravenous undead, indiscriminately slaughtering beloved heroes and heroines, not caring for a second that they were also the stars of a daytime soap opera—one that was appointment TV for millions of kids across America.

Clearly it was a different time. And therein lies its charm.

When the television series Dark Shadows premiered in 1966, it wasn’t an instant pop culture phenomenon. Creator Dan Curtis was savvy enough to see the appeal in a daytime melodrama draped in a Gothic aesthetic, but he didn’t yet have the necessary hook for his central character as she stepped off a train in New England. Sure, mysterious Victoria Winters (Alexandria Isles) would meet the Collins family, who more or less ruled over the town of Collinsport from their ancestral home of Collinwood, but the reason to stick around only came about a year into the series’ original run.

That eureka moment turned out to be the dapper and effortlessly suave Jonathan Frid. Cast as Barnabas Collins, the Canadian theater actor was initially hired for a single storyline (a set number of episodes) as the heavy: Barnabas was an ancient and forgotten vampire, who’d been buried alive like the family’s dirty little secret after a curse condemned him to drink blood in 1795. Now he was out and wreaking havoc by feasting on the locals and obsessing over Maggie Evans (Kathryn Leigh Scott), whom he was convinced was the reincarnation of his lost love Josette—a fiancée who threw herself off a cliff in the 18th century rather than become Barnabas’ corpse bride.

It was morbid, obviously, but also romantic at a time when vampires were defined by the coldness of Christopher Lee or the goofiness of Scooby-Doo. Instead here was the most pitiable of creatures, one who doesn’t wish to be a vampire, and through impeccable manners and courtesies revealed a soft love for the Collins family, even when he preyed on them. Rather than create a great villain, Curtis inadvertently invented a tragic hero who audiences flocked to, both the typical daytime target demographic and also, surprisingly, kids and teenagers, who’d rush home from school to be lost in a melancholy land of eternal loves, ancient curses, and of course fangs.

Thus Dark Shadows became a blender for all things Gothic. Following in the success of Barnabas’ introduction, the series would go on to add ghosts, werewolves, séances, multiple stints of time travel, and one particularly devilish 18th century witch named Angelique (Lara Parker). It also appropriated every classic horror trope from Bram Stoker, Mary Shelley, the Brontë sisters, and Edgar Allan Poe, and synthesized them for an audience that was now consuming it along with kid-friendly board games and trading cards.

So why not a movie, too? As early as 1968, Curtis began pursuing the idea of making a Dark Shadows movie, even while the series was still going. Eventually, House of Dark Shadows was the result. Released 50 years ago this week, this toothy amusement was the chance to do everything Curtis wanted with the series, but was prohibited from by Broadcast Standards and Practices censorship, budget constraints… and maybe even audiences’ good taste.

“Blood flows,” actor Roger Davis observed in The Dark Shadows Companion: The 25th Anniversary, which was edited by Scott. “It’s not like the serial. You have a few dabs of blood and the network brass have apoplexy. TV does a mock-up on life. This is in living color. And the vampires really bite.”

Whereas Dark Shadows, the television show, was appointment TV for those still in middle school, House of Dark Shadows was aimed directly at the drive-in crowd with its emphasis on blood gushing from neck wounds and stakes violently going into almost every character’s heart. As Scott’s book surmised, the film was “entirely the child of its creator,” who would at last have his evil Barnabas. And at a glance, it is an American riff on what had already become kitsch by 1970 thanks to Hammer Film Productions’ seemingly endless line of Dracula movies, plus the knockoffs.

And to be sure, House of Dark Shadows is in many ways a Dracula movie. It’s also insight into how Curtis originally viewed the Barnabas character before Frid went on a charm offensive. Playing almost like a CliffNotes version of Barnabas’ first several storylines on the show, the vampire is awakened during the film’s opening moments because of the foolishness of groundskeeper Willie Loomis (John Karlen). Barnabas then forces poor old Willie to become his living slave and creates a fictitious narrative about being a distant cousin descended from the original Barnabas Collins, whom family lore claims sailed away to London in 1795, never to be heard from again.

Bringing back the “original” Barnabas’ family jewels to ingratiate himself, the Barnabas of 1970 is free to attend family gatherings, fix up an old ruined house on the estate, and even feed on cousin Carolyn (Nancy Barrett), a dear relative who becomes a dead ringer for Lucy Westenra in Bram Stoker’s famed novel. Even so, Carolyn cannot displace Maggie (still Scott) in Barnabas’ eyes, who he is sure is the reincarnation of Josette.

It very much has the narrative beats of a traditional vampire movie, but the charm that lingers a half-century later comes in part from seeing these actors, who are intimately familiar with their characters, going through the paces with better production values. That quality also manifests in Curtis’ sense of atmosphere, now liberated from the stage-bound quality of daytime drawing room drama. I would even argue House of Dark Shadows is one of the more satisfyingly atmospheric vampire movies to come out of the 1970s.

Curtis filmed in the upstate New York’s Tarrytown area, mostly on the actual Gothic Lyndhurst Estate, built in the 1830s, and shot much of the exteriors in the legendary Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. Whereas Hammer films tended to rely increasingly on sets during this period, and most B horror movies had no budget for evocative locations, House of Dark Shadows was filming its sequences in between tours of the Lyndhurst Mansion and in the same atmospheric cemetery that helped birth the myth of a Headless Horseman.

Regarding the filming location, screenwriter Sam Hall remarked, “It’s a wild house. I’d hate like hell to live in it.”

This is only accentuated by the fact Curtis knows how to drain a spooky location dry. Images like vampire Carolyn standing in a window, draped in white, beckoning her lover to become one of the damned is a better use of Lucy iconography than any Dracula movie made before House of Dark Shadows. And the film’s ending sequence reaches an operatic opulence rarely seen, even in vampire cheapies. Barnabas, bathed in a blue light and shrouded in inexplicable fog in the interior of his decrepit home, beckons Maggie, now in a wedding dress, toward him as the famous melody of Josette’s music box twinkles, only now in a weeping minor key.

The corruption of that wistful melody is intriguing. An original part of the Dark Shadows television series, Josette’s music box, and Frid’s soliloquies about it, is what first gave Barnabas his soul, distinguishing him from the general depravity of other pop culture vampires. One could even say Barnabas is the first significantly sympathetic male vampire in fiction. In House of Dark Shadows, he has a more sinister mean streak, but the pathos remains.

Hence why the film plays at times like a gonzo delight. It may feature the original, more wicked Barnabas, but it is still derived from the genteel series, and many of those elements carry over. Take Dr. Julia Hoffman (Grayson Hall) spending half the movie trying to cure Barnabas, a subplot that eventually ends happily for the pair on the show, but less so here. It’s soapy pulp, yet it’s given as much stone-faced gravity as the Collinsport Police Department unquestioningly agreeing to patrol around town with standard issue police crucifixes. One might ask if they keep silver bullets in every squad car too?

The overall effect is bizarre, but endearingly so. It’s also fairly influential, as confirmed by what happened after Dan Curtis dropped Barnabas in favor of another vampire.

Dark Shadows’ Witch Was As Influential As Its Vampire

By Tony Sokol

Movies

Bram Stoker’s Dracula and the Seduction of Old School Movie Magic

By David Crow

In 1974, following Dark Shadows’ cancellation, Curtis wrote and directed a Dracula TV movie for CBS that within its opening titles billed itself as “Bram Stoker’s Dracula.” Far removed from Stoker’s novel, the little remembered television film nonetheless starred Jack Palance as the vampire, and introduced several significant elements to the story by overtly making Dracula an undead version of historical figure Vlad the Impaler (which he is not in the novel) and turning Lucy into the reincarnation of his great lost love.

Curtis was in essence trying to recast Dracula as Barnabas Collins. Like House of Dark Shadows, Curtis even sought to build a Gothic atmosphere by filming in real locations, albeit now Eastern Europe. The result was effective in those scenes, even if the rest of the movie failed in no small part because Palance could never wear the tragic cloak so well as Frid.

In spite of its shortcomings, many have fairly speculated on whether Curtis’ Dracula influenced James V. Hart, the screenwriter of Francis Ford Coppola’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Hart was certainly more successful at turning Dracula into a lovelorn prince, and Coppola made that idea permanent in the pop culture imagination. Yet, at the end of the day, they were still remaking the pop culture image of Dracula so as to be closer in line with Barnabas Collins, instead of the other way around.

I would even argue that Coppola’s film is closer in tone with Dark Shadows, at least in its romantic moments, than Tim Burton’s big budget Dark Shadows movie was in 2012. Burton of course attempted to avoid some of the mistakes of House of Dark Shadows, namely by keeping Barnabas as the good guy who is trying to save his family instead of ultimately destroying them, as well as retaining the other fan favorite character, the witchy Angelique (who like all other non-vampire elements was omitted from House of Dark Shadows). But Burton also played her and the whole concept as pure camp, making the Collins’ a subject of ridicule, and their problems a punchline.

Admittedly, there is something faintly camp about the 1960s daytime series and its ‘70s drive-in remake; plots turn on ludicrous developments like Julia falling in love with Barnabas, and then intentionally sabotaging his vampire cure when she realizes he loves a younger woman. But they were sold with absolute sincerity, and in the case of Frid, a palatable conviction.

House of Dark Shadows continues that conviction, no matter how batshit things become. Thus the ending where, accepting he’ll never be cured, Barnabas transforms family patriarch Roger Collins (Louis Edmonds) and even the film’s version of Van Helsing (Thayer David) into vampires. And we get to a finale so madcap that it turns “Renfield” into the last remaining hero. Madness, indeed.

Ironically, House of Dark Shadows was blamed by some for the eventual death of the series. Every character in the film, including Barnabas, had to be written out of the show, for some weeks at a time, so the actors could go shoot a movie upstate (another reason Angelique and other significant characters were left out). This correlated with some of the series’ weaker storylines that lost audiences’ attention.

Additionally, it’s believed parents who went with their children to see the movie in October 1970 were appalled by the amount of blood and sensual subtext in the film. As a result, some may have forbidden their kids from watching the series further… with the show getting cancelled in April 1971.

“The TV ratings fell after the movie,” Scott’s The Dark Shadows Companion revealed. “It has been suggested by some that House of Dark Shadows led to the series’ eventual demise. Perhaps it was the audience’s reaction to seeing their hero Barnabas in an evil light. Perhaps it was because parents attended House of Dark Shadows with their children and, seeing the amount of blood spilled across the screen, discouraged their children’s choice of television viewing material.”

Star Frid was even more unsparing in his final analysis.

“[The film] lacked the charm and naivete of the soap opera,” Frid said. “Every once in a while the show coalesced into a Brigadoonish never-never-land. It wasn’t necessary to bring the rest of the world into Dark Shadows, which is what the film did.”

Nevertheless, both the series and movie left a few marks on the throat of pop culture. The series certainly paved the way for more multidimensional portraits of vampires to be explored, opening the door for, yes, the Coppola Dracula movie, but also Anne Rice and True Blood. In fact, even if House of Dark Shadows might’ve been considered too brutal by parents in 1970, decades of pop culture refinement would find a way to make the sympathetic vampire archetype much more tolerable when instead of drinking from his cousin, he sparkled in the daylight and told his prey they needed to wait until marriage.

Without Barnabas, his series, and his slice of bananas role is House of Dark Shadows, we may never have gotten Lestat, Edward Cullen, or Gary Oldman’s Dracula. At least not as how we know them. Fifty years on, that’s a bloody good legacy for a daytime drama and a B-movie you’ve never seen.

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vminity21 · 5 years

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Amber | jhs

Pairing: barista!Hoseok x nurse!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Genre: fluff, soft, aesthetic

Summary: When a local coffee barista catches your eye, it’s hard to let it go, especially when he turns up in your dreams, causing you to wonder if there will ever be a chance in getting to know him.

There’s a distinct familiarity in the air, one of flawless breezes and thrilly jingles from a bell hung upon the door to your favorite coffee shop that is nestled downtown in the center of your city. The strong aroma of freshly brewed liquid warms you just enough to where your arms wrap around your frame- the loose hems of your cashmere sweater cuddle the majority of your palms while the sensation of your purse settles along your thigh. It’s been a while since you’ve been here, and with the usual crave of your preferred drink, it’s only fitting, especially with the way the deep shades of red mingle with dim, orange hues which enlighten the reminder that autumn has finally arrived.

Glittery leaves decorate the railings within the building matching the colors of the signs promoting the return of the infamous pumpkin spice latte- one you have tried many times, yet you can’t seem to completely veer away from your steaming mug of lemon tea. It’s always been made at its best, and it serves the swarming memories of long nights after work when your relative would fix you a cup every night to help calm you after an eventful day of securing medicine at a nursing home.

Raking cold fingers through your hair, you take your place in line, nearing the counter before the frilly, brown tendrils of a male seem to catch you by surprise. His pink lips are already settled into a grin while he takes the card payment from the person in front of you embellishing small dimples that add to the glimmering brown in his almond eyes. Your heart seems to react almost immediately prompting heat to rush to your rosy cheeks sparking small shivers to curse your fingertips.

His digits tap at the keys rapidly before his eyes greet yours with the same kind smile he shares to others, “Good morning, what can I get for you today?”

You’re too stunned for words to form fast enough, stuttering the order you usually never struggle to say, “I- erm, lemon tea, please. For here,” your eyes instinctively fall to your fumbling hands unzipping your bag in goal of grabbing your wallet. Once cash is gripped between your quivering fingers, your timorous stare catches the bold letters adorning his nametag before feeling the swift brush of his touch gathering the change from you.

“Coming right up!”

The incredible amount of consciousness it takes to not trip over your feet on the tread to find a table baffles you prompting a quiet giggle to yourself, yet the budding attraction to the employee doesn’t disappear in an instant. Rather, you suppress the thought just enough to focus on the skidding chair before comfortably settling in the favored corner adjacent to the large window revealing a pleasant blanket of gray clouds hovering the evidence of rain. Something about panging droplets upon a roof has always brought serenity in times you’ve needed it most; days can seem shorter especially when dealing with humanity, and since today happens to be a rare day off- you will enjoy every minute if possible.

Hands now folded beneath your chin, you get lost in the view outside- sauntering pedestrians preparing their umbrellas with the occasional swaying maple leaves captured by the wind to press their stems along the cement before being retaken to fly elsewhere. And let’s not forget the extra fabric swaddling frames now with the expectation of the weather cooling- nothing seems to beat your favorite season- the quiet facade it brings to your soul, or the assemblage of colors that define the entire fall as a whole.

The distraction is nearly exhilarating that you jump almost immediately when a tall shadow enters your peripherals, “Your lemon tea, ma’am.” He must not have caught your wide-eyed gaze for the gentle clink of the plate holding the steaming mug of your order now rests before you.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” peaking at his name tag once again, you grin up at him, “Hoseok,” he bows at your words, smiling from ear to ear just to flash a beautiful set of teeth, his hair slightly falling into his eyes, and here you are swearing inwardly that he is the most beautiful encounter you have ever witnessed. Though frequenting this place, you have never seen him until now, which sparks the question on whether he is new to solely the store, or to this town in general. Hoseok returns to the registers faster than you realize, eyes still lingering just for you to avert your gape to your tea- curling your fingers around the glass to warm them.

You’re a quarter of the way finished with your drink when you lose track of time, sighing softly, you wonder what your friend Sofia and her boyfriend, Taehyung have been up to as of late, wishing you could free more time enough to visit. Last you heard, Taehyung proposed, and Sofia has been planning their big day ever since. You don’t expect it, the dispersing of your thoughts when you notice the uniformed individual that has gained your attention the minute you stepped into this building, to swiftly move to a spot far enough away to where you can safely observe him.

His stare remains glued to his phone, a jacket folded over his arm- he seems highly concentrated on whoever he’s texting, yet all you can do is focus on how handsome he is. You want to speak to him considering the possibility he may be on break, but piling enough courage to do so is a tad intimidating, and you are definitely unaware by the length of time your gaze has remained on Hoseok, that he glimpses above his phone screen, your heart skipping from being caught just to drop your lids to the now empty mug cradled in your hands. GAH, the scold your brain is rampaging is enough to make you want to wince, telling yourself numerously that you need to be more careful.

The travel home seems faster than usual, but with the greeting of Bram, your Jack Russell mix, you’re very grateful to make it to your house. He pants excitingly while his paws swipe your knees with each jump. “Hello, my sweetheart,” you coo, rubbing along his fluffy fur where a black spot covers the majority of his back. Your dog is your everything, so the joy of cuddling him close the rest of the evening until you slip into slumber is always your favorite end to a rainy night.

Pat, pat, pat. Darkness loses to the fluttering of your eyelids now being gifted with the essence of the season you’ve been dreaming about. Pat, pat, pat. A droplet here and there heightens your auditory senses while you remain halted in place; bare feet press along the cold pavement that has been freshly rained upon placing myriads of glued leaves on almost every inch of the road. Rows of long trunks host autumn hues that rustle lightly from the chilly wind now drifting past your shoulders where feather touches of your hair barely tickle.

You’re uncertain of why everything seems blurry as though it’s not real, yet the excitement of such an ideal setting is enough to start the promenading of the street- pouncing in the air with the clack of your ankles, squeals of glee escaping whilst you twirl- the deep shade of your maroon dress flowing from the movement, blending in with the surroundings. Lost in a world of utter peace, there are no rules here other than happiness, and that’s a world you’ve always longed for.

Reaching a curve, the joyful tune brewing from your lips softens the very second your stare lands upon a silhouette in the distance. The figure isn’t facing you, but you notice enough to realize he’s alone- brown strands hidden within a faded orange beanie, he’s nestled upon the grass with crossed legs, hands placed before him that appear to be fiddling with something, but at the angle, you are standing, all you can gather other than his presence are items clearing to be a journal and a pen resting by his side.

Curiosity consumes you enough to proceed forward, tiptoeing nearer to figure if he might be someone you have seen before, but one thing you did not anticipate is the sudden crunch of the leaves- ones that must have freshly fallen from the side of the trees that have not been kissed by the rain startling you producing a sudden gasp- widening eyes lifting to reveal the turn of his face-

“Sh- !” Sitting up immediately in your bed, perspiration lingering the lining of your hair- the hyped beat of your heart pounds into your temples before you brush the loosened streaks from your vision; Bram instinctively pounces to lick your face in desperation to calm you, curling onto your lap the second your hand gently smooths among the top of his head. It’s been a week since you’ve been to the coffee shop, and though everything was merely a dream, you can’t help the doting incentive that the person who arrived happens to be the same individual you can’t seem to easily forget about. It’s strange to you, but there’s just something about him, and before you know it, as soon as your shift ends for the day, you find yourself entering the store in hopes that the employee of your dreams, you inwardly tease, is awaiting to serve you another request of your favorite drink. To your delight, he is working, and to add to your giddiness, the place is fairly empty meaning no lines for you to wait in.

“Hello, how are you today?” Hoseok’s hands wrap around the sides of the register- his smile captivating you as it did last time to the point that timidness takes over- the blush in your cheeks revealing itself as soon as you reach the counter.

“Work,”

“Oh,” he giggles, although, your response was mouthed before you could have stopped yourself and you wince at how you may have sounded considering he’s currently in the process of working himself.

“I’m sorry, I meant, I-”

“Well, in that case, how about some lemon tea? If I’m correct?”

You’re stunned by how well his memory must be, and the way his eyes squint in concentration in hopes that he’s right melts your heart, “Ye-yes, for here,”

“Alright,” he chuckles, punching in the order, “Coming right up. My treat,”

“Wait what? No, no, you don’t have to do that-”

“I understand how tough it can be,” he raises his hands as if in defense, “It’s my treat, remind me of your name?” He arches an eyebrow when he presses his lips together.

“[Y/N],” you smile, still in awe of the kindness he has surprised you with after such a brutal day of work, “Thank you. Really, thank you,”

“Anytime,” his voice is tender, and you can hardly express your gratitude though you wonder if its the wrinkled fabric of your scrubs with random decor of stains that gave way of how your day has gone that potentially caused the reason of his gesture. Either way, you’re floored, and when he brings you the lemon tea, you thank him again, the heat of your skin still burning red.

Pelt, pelt, pelt. Fingers curl to reveal the plush of a blanket laying beneath you while the sun protrudes brightly through the trees. The careful turn of your head discovers the encompassing of plump pumpkins- perfumes of apple spice sweep past your nostrils while your vision explores the scenery. Confusion creases at the corner of your eyes, wondering where you must be considering this is a fantasy you have yet to venture. Pelt, pelt, pelt. Droplets of rain spring off your skin sporadically, but not enough to linger for you to remember it exists.

“Hello,” though merely a soft murmur, the unexpected sound jolts you to sit up, a gasp flying from your mouth staring at the apologetic eyes of the man who realizes he has scared you. Relief floods your bones- gaze falling to the journal and pen planted beside him as before. There’s the persistent curiosity revolving around the book, but more so, your stare returns to the oval face of the timorous human now staring at his twiddling hands in shame.

He doesn’t have to be ashamed, and the desperate aura to prove this to him prompts you into action. You are unaware of how near the proximity to him is when you mirror his stature of crossed legs- your knees pressing to his once the desire to feel his slim fingers between yours forces you to hope that he can’t read your mind. It’s only your imagination, right? It is not like he truly will know of the courage you yearn to live in reality. In substantiality, trust is a process for you- learning another is a task in itself for you- but in slumber, there’s a certain bravery you collect especially when this moment feels so right.

His lips are parted just as yours are- enlarged-eyed nerves form magic as real as the season living out in this universe. There’s no more waiting- it just happens in the spur of a second where you kiss him, his hands finding their homes on either side of your face, leaning more into you. Rapidly, nature seems to know the cue when leaves swirl in the wind encircling the pair of you in a painted cascade of red, yellow and orange. Your jaw is loved by the slow traces of his fingertips, returning to rest your back upon the blanket where his body aligns with yours, and despite this fiction playing effortlessly in your conscious, you feel his smile against your lips the same as he feels yours. And with that, there’s nothing you want more than this dream to become a truth.

“You’re not crazy, love,” Sofia promises on the other line of the phone though you have a stubborn notion of not believing her statement, “I think you just have a wee little crush on a certain barista,”

Currently shuffling to unlock your car, you’re ready to head home from work to check on your dog, hoping he’s kept the house in good shape while you’ve been gone, “But how though? I don’t even know the guy.”

“Distant crushes are real, hun,”

“I don’t know,” you heave a long sigh, the back of your head resting upon the cushion of the driver’s side, hardly bringing yourself to start your vehicle just yet.

“Have you… Talked to him since the last time?”

“....No.”

“I should have known,” Sofia groans, “You are the most stubborn soul I know, and you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t,”

“I learn from the best,” you tease, laughter between you and your best friend making the air seem lighter than earlier.

“That, you do. Be safe and keep me updated. Tell little Bram I love him,”

“Will do,” you pact, thankful to hear her voice. The journey home reminds you of a few trails hidden away in a park behind your house. Maybe over the weekend, you can visit to find an ounce of solitude in nature, otherwise, the plan of a small nap is in your best interest, so the abrupt minute you find, you flip on the tv for some background noise, eventually drifting into the familiar sound of rain beginning another daydream with your sweet Bram cuddled by your side.

There it is. The familiar corner where you’ve turned in previous times that relives the journey of precise coloration reigniting the joy that sparks the padding of anxious footsteps into the direction of what may be awaiting. The preface of your wonderment is where you are now- you are right at the very start of autumn hues rustling in tall trees aligned accordingly on either side of the paved road glimmering pasted leaves under your heels. A hounding prolepsis of hope gives the concept that someone is indeed here, and you must find him before it’s too late.

Elation turns into tattered fear of losing to waking in reality, speeding your steps though you feel you are going nowhere. A loss of time can ruin the means of opportunity and when your skipping legs finally reach the curve, you pause- a building smile spreading across your face at the man standing before you. Head cast downward, he’s penning within his journal, fully concentrating on whatever he is writing. Inching closer, he closes the journal- a thin thread of a golden bookmark keeps a tab on where he last written. His tender gaze holds yours for what feels like forever until he turns his journal to you flashing a loving grin that exuberates permission for you to open to the page he’s left for you.

Uncertainty of hesitation only shows in the flicker of your eyes studying his heart that he’s wearing on his sleeve. Gradually, you grab at the end of the bookmark between your fingertips, lifting the first half of the book to unveil a message that brings touched tears to your eyes.

Scribbled in the center of the page in artistically drawn bold letters are the words you have longed for, but never knew you needed,

‘You’re my favorite part of every season’

It’s been a month since you’ve seen him; a month since you’ve had the dreams; and a month since you’ve been able to enjoy the soothing taste of a tepid cup of lemon tea. Carried away by the hours of your job, it has been difficult to provide any time for yourself- leading your brain to the point of forgetting about the interests you’ve once had prior. The trails have been calling your name consistently to the point you find the will to go, zipping your coat to then huddling your hands within the pockets. Twenty minutes pass until the breaking of the path comes into view, and out of a habit, you hum a random tune to the chilly breeze, swaying your shoulders until the leap of your heart stops you in your tracks.

A beanie- faded to match the season, yet this time he’s not looking down, he’s staring out into the trees where birds sing in unison with chirping crickets, and to your rigid frame, your eyes scan the spot where you always found them: a journal and pen rested by his side as they always have. You cannot speak, for whatever is happening before you is real, and you attempt to decipher the possibility of this being just that: real. You want to run, but why cower when the chance is right there within your reach?

Hoseok hears your steps that you do not comprehend that you’re making, yet you don’t stop; a smile exists on your lips shining from your eyes that meet his that beam recognition,

“Hey there!” He stands from the blanket he’s been sitting on, smiling from ear to ear while offering his hand to shake yours, “It’s been a long time!”

You’re flattered by his noticing of your vacancy, and at the feel of his large hand enveloping yours, you briefly shake it, still shocked by the event screening in front of you, “Hello to you! I didn’t know you came here?”

“As often as I can,” he nods, turning his head to absorb the atmosphere around him, “It’s quite comforting,”

“That, it is,” you agree, gape dropping to your shoes, “It’s my favorite place to go this time of year,”

“I’d have to say it’s the same for me, too,” an awkward silence seems like an eternity when it only lasts for about five seconds leading to the clearing of Hoseok’s throat, “How have you been? We miss seeing you at the shop,”

“I’ve been well, I hope you are,” you giggle, gesturing toward the blanket spread upon the grass, “Is it okay if I join you?”

“Of course you can!” His voice sounds so happy. Happiness that lifts the hope you now have embraced. Hoseok politely reaches for your hand to help you sit down, each of you crossing your legs to get comfortable to notice his fingertips have yet to leave yours. At first, the nervous tension of question shows on his face when he finally makes the connection, yet you nod the okay, sliding your palm to mold with his. Neither of you let go, and maybe you have not been the only one shaken by his countenance, for his heart is thrumming in equal pace as yours. As the hours pass by, you find yourself nestled into his side where he rests his cheek upon your head, watching the leaves of the season fall into place just as this moment: the start of a dream come true.

- Thank you for the request @taeandpuppies ! I hope you and your friend enjoy this! -

#btswritingcafe #jung hoseok #jhs #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok aesthetic #autumn hoseok #autumn #bts autumn leaves #bts hoseok #bts jung hoseok

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notimetoblog · 5 years

Text

Thank you all so much for joining the World Book Day celebration! It was a pleasure getting to hear about your favorite books! I am a fervent believer that reading is so powerful. It expands your minds, takes you to places you had never even imagined, and can teach you so much about the world and ourselves.

I have compiled the list (in alphabetical order by title) of all the books that were recommended during this celebration. Each book links to the original recommendation, states the genre of the book, and has a brief synopsis of the book :D

If you would like to recommend more PLEASE FEEL FREE TO DO SO!! We could always use more books in our lives!! Thank you all again and I hope you’re able to read some books on the list that you haven't read before!

BOOK RECS

A Court of Thorns and Roses Series by Sarah J. Maas

Recommended by @wintersxsoul here

Genre: Young Adult / Romance / Fantasy

Synopsis: Feyre's survival rests upon her ability to hunt and kill – the forest where she lives is a cold, bleak place in the long winter months. So when she spots a deer in the forest being pursued by a wolf, she cannot resist fighting it for the flesh. But to do so, she must kill the predator and killing something so precious comes at a price.

Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne

Recommended by @just-add-butter here

Genre: Fiction / Adventure / Classics

Synopsis: One ill-fated evening at the Reform Club, Phileas Fogg rashly bets his companions £20,000 that he can travel around the entire globe in just eighty days - and he is determined not to lose. Breaking the well-establised routine of his daily life, the reserved Englishman immediately sets off for Dover, accompanied by his hot-blooded French manservant Passepartout. Travelling by train, steamship, sailing boat, sledge and even elephant, they must overcome storms, kidnappings, natural disasters, Sioux attacks and the dogged Inspector Fix of Scotland Yard - who believes that Fogg has robbed the Bank of England - to win the extraordinary wager.

Burn for Burn Series by Jenny Han

Recommended by @marvelsangel here

Genre: Fantasy / Paranormal / Young Adult

Synopsis (of first book): Postcard-perfect Jar Island is home to charming tourist shops, pristine beaches, amazing oceanfront homes—and three girls secretly plotting revenge.KAT is sick and tired of being bullied by her former best friend.LILLIA has always looked out for her little sister, so when she discovers that one of her guy friends has been secretly hooking up with her, she’s going to put a stop to it.MARY is perpetually haunted by a traumatic event from years past, and the boy who’s responsible has yet to get what’s coming to him.None of the girls can act on their revenge fantasies alone without being suspected. But together…anything is possible. With an alliance in place, there will be no more “I wish I’d said…” or “If I could go back and do things differently...” These girls will show Jar Island that revenge is a dish best enjoyed together.

Code Name Verity By Elizabeth Wein

Recommended by @notimetoblog here

Genre: Historical Fiction / Young Adult

Synopsis: Oct. 11th, 1943 - A British spy plane crashes in Nazi-occupied France. Its pilot and passenger are best friends. One of the girls has a chance at survival. The other has lost the game before it's barely begun. When "Verity" is arrested by the Gestapo, she's sure she doesn't stand a chance. As a secret agent captured in enemy territory, she's living a spy's worst nightmare. Her Nazi interrogators give her a simple choice: reveal her mission or face a grisly execution. As she intricately weaves her confession, Verity uncovers her past, how she became friends with the pilot Maddie, and why she left Maddie in the wrecked fuselage of their plane. On each new scrap of paper, Verity battles for her life, confronting her views on courage and failure and her desperate hope to make it home. But will trading her secrets be enough to save her from the enemy?

Coming of Age in Mississippi: The Classic Autobiography of a Young Black Girl in the Rural South by Anne Moody

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Memoir / History / Nonfiction

Synopsis: Born to a poor couple who were tenant farmers on a plantation in Mississippi, Anne Moody lived through some of the most dangerous days of the pre-civil rights era in the South. The week before she began high school came the news of Emmet Till's lynching. Before then, she had "known the fear of hunger, hell, and the Devil. But now there was...the fear of being killed just because I was black." In that moment was born the passion for freedom and justice that would change her life.

Crazy Rich Asians Series by Kevin Kwan

Recommended by @marvelsangel here

Genre: Fiction / Romance

Synopsis (of first book): the outrageously funny debut novel about three super-rich, pedigreed Chinese families and the gossip, backbiting, and scheming that occurs when the heir to one of the most massive fortunes in Asia brings home his ABC (American-born Chinese) girlfriend to the wedding of the season.When Rachel Chu agrees to spend the summer in Singapore with her boyfriend, Nicholas Young, she envisions a humble family home, long drives to explore the island, and quality time with the man she might one day marry. What she doesn't know is that Nick's family home happens to look like a palace, that she'll ride in more private planes than cars, and that with one of Asia's most eligible bachelors on her arm, Rachel might as well have a target on her back.

Crown Duel by Sherwood Smith

Recommended by @just-add-butter here

Genre: Romance / Fantasy

Synopsis: It begins in a cold and shabby tower room, where young Countess Meliara swears to her dying father that she and her brother will defend their people from the growing greed of the king. That promise leads them into a war for which they are ill prepared, a war that threatens the homes and lives of the very people they are trying to protect. But war is simple compared to what follows, when the bloody fighting is done and a fragile peace is at hand. Although she wants to turn her back on politics and the crown, Meliara is summoned to the royal palace. There, she soon discovers, friends and enemies look alike, and intrigue fills the dance halls and the drawing rooms. If she is to survive, Meliara must learn a whole new way of fighting--with wit and words and secret alliances. In war, at least, she knew whom she could trust. Now she can trust no one.

Deadline by Chris Crutcher

Recommended by @rosegoldlilacs here

Genre: Fiction / Young Adult

Synopsis: Ben Wolf has big things planned for his senior year. Had big things planned. Now what he has is some very bad news and only one year left to make his mark on the world.How can a pint-sized, smart-ass seventeen-year-old do anything significant in the nowheresville of Trout, Idaho?

Dracula by Bram Stoker

Recommended by @wintersxsoul here

Genre: Classics / Fiction / Fantasy

Synopsis: Dracula is an 1897 Gothic horror novel by Irish author Bram Stoker. Famous for introducing the character of the vampire Count Dracula, the novel tells the story of Dracula's attempt to move from Transylvania to England so he may find new blood and spread undead curse, and the battle between Dracula and a small group of men and women led by Professor Abraham Van Helsing.

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

Recommended by @softhairbarnes here

Genre: Fiction / Mystery / Thriller

Synopsis: On a warm summer morning in North Carthage, Missouri, it is Nick and Amy Dunne’s fifth wedding anniversary. Presents are being wrapped and reservations are being made when Nick’s clever and beautiful wife disappears from their rented McMansion on the Mississippi River. Husband-of-the-Year Nick isn’t doing himself any favors with cringe-worthy daydreams about the slope and shape of his wife’s head, but passages from Amy's diary reveal the alpha-girl perfectionist could have put anyone dangerously on edge. Under mounting pressure from the police and the media—as well as Amy’s fiercely doting parents—the town golden boy parades an endless series of lies, deceits, and inappropriate behavior. Nick is oddly evasive, and he’s definitely bitter—but is he really a killer?

Harry Potter Saga by J.K Rowling

Recommended by @agentpegcxrter here / First book recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Fantasy / Young Adult

Synopsis (of first book): Harry Potter's life is miserable. His parents are dead and he's stuck with his heartless relatives, who force him to live in a tiny closet under the stairs. But his fortune changes when he receives a letter that tells him the truth about himself: he's a wizard. A mysterious visitor rescues him from his relatives and takes him to his new home, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After a lifetime of bottling up his magical powers, Harry finally feels like a normal kid. But even within the Wizarding community, he is special. He is the boy who lived: the only person to have ever survived a killing curse inflicted by the evil Lord Voldemort, who launched a brutal takeover of the Wizarding world, only to vanish after failing to kill Harry.Though Harry's first year at Hogwarts is the best of his life, not everything is perfect. There is a dangerous secret object hidden within the castle walls, and Harry believes it's his responsibility to prevent it from falling into evil hands. But doing so will bring him into contact with forces more terrifying than he ever could have imagined.

Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi

Recommended by @notimetoblog here

Genre: Historical Fiction

Synopsis: Two half-sisters, Effia and Esi, are born into different villages in eighteenth-century Ghana. Effia is married off to an Englishman and lives in comfort in the palatial rooms of Cape Coast Castle. Unbeknownst to Effia, her sister, Esi, is imprisoned beneath her in the castle's dungeons, sold with thousands of others into the Gold Coast's booming slave trade, and shipped off to America, where her children and grandchildren will be raised in slavery. Generation after generation, Yaa Gyasi's magisterial first novel sets the fate of the individual against the obliterating movements of time

How Paris Became Paris: The Invention of the Modern City by Joan DeJean

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: History / Nonfiction

Synopsis: At the beginning of the seventeenth century, Paris was known for isolated monuments but had not yet put its brand on urban space. Like other European cities, it was still emerging from its medieval past. But in a mere century Paris would be transformed into the modern and mythic city we know today.Though most people associate the signature characteristics of Paris with the public works of the nineteenth century, Joan DeJean demonstrates that the Parisian model for urban space was in fact invented two centuries earlier, when the first complete design for the French capital was drawn up and implemented.

Love Style Life by Garance Doré

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Nonfiction / Memoir / Fashion

Synopsis: Garance Doré, the voice and vision behind her eponymous blog, has captivated millions of readers worldwide with her fresh and appealing approach to style through storytelling. This gorgeously illustrated book takes readers on a unique narrative journey that blends Garance’s inimitable photography and illustrations with the candid, hard-won wisdom drawn from her life and her travels. Infused with her Left Bank sensibility, the eclecticism of her adopted city of New York, and the wild, passionate spirit of her native Corsica, Love Style Life is a backstage pass behind fashion’s frontlines, peppered with French-girl-next-door wit and advice on everything from mixing J.Crew with Chanel, to falling in love, to pursuing a life and career that is the perfect reflection of you.

No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Fiction / Japanese Literature / Cultural

Synopsis: This leading postwar Japanese writer's second novel, tells the poignant and fascinating story of a young man who is caught between the breakup of the traditions of a northern Japanese aristocratic family and the impact of Western ideas. In consequence, he feels himself "disqualified from being human" (a literal translation of the Japanese title).

Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver

Recommended by @chocochipcookieyum here

Genre: Historical Fiction / Classics

Synopsis: A story told by the wife and four daughters of Nathan Price, a fierce, evangelical Baptist who takes his family and mission to the Belgian Congo in 1959. They carry with them everything they believe they will need from home, but soon find that all of it -- from garden seeds to Scripture -- is calamitously transformed on African soil. What follows is a suspenseful epic of one family's tragic undoing and remarkable reconstruction over the course of three decades in postcolonial Africa.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Recommended by @gamorazenn here / by @agentpegcxrter here / by @arosewithdaisies here

Genre: Fiction / Romance / Classics

Synopsis: The romantic clash between the opinionated Elizabeth and her proud beau, Mr. Darcy, is a splendid performance of civilized sparring. And Jane Austen's radiant wit sparkles as her characters dance a delicate quadrille of flirtation and intrigue, making this book the most superb comedy of manners of Regency England.

Strange Weather in Tokyo by Hiromi Kawakami

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Fiction / Romance

Synopsis: Tsukiko is drinking alone in her local sake bar when by chance she meets one of her old high school teachers and, unable to remember his name, she falls back into her old habit of calling him 'Sensei'. After this first encounter, Tsukiko and Sensei continue to meet. Together, they share edamame beans, bottles of cold beer, and a trip to the mountains to eat wild mushrooms. As their friendship deepens, Tsukiko comes to realise that the solace she has found with Sensei might be something more.

Swiftly Tilting Planet by Madeline L’Engle

Recommended by @thesaltyduchess here

Genre: Fantasy / Young Adult / Science Fiction

Synopsis: When fifteen-year-old Charles Wallace Murry shouts out an ancient rune meant to ward off the dark in desperation, a radiant creature appears. It is Gaudior, unicorn and time traveler. Charles Wallace and Gaudior must travel into the past on the winds of time to try to find a Might-Have-Been - a moment in the past when the entire course of events leading to the present can be changed, and the future of Earth - this small, swiftly tilting planet - saved.

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle

Recommended by @arosewithdaisies here

Genre: Fiction / Mystery / Crime / Classics / Short Stories

Synopsis: The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes is a collection of twelve short stories by Arthur Conan Doyle, featuring his fictional detective Sherlock Holmes. It was first published on 14 October 1892; the individual stories had been serialized in The Strand Magazine between July 1891 and June 1892. The stories are not in chronological order, and the only characters common to all twelve are Holmes and Dr. Watson. The stories are related in first-person narrative from Watson's point of view.

The Bean Trees by Barbara King

Recommended by @nerdgirljen in a comment here

Genre: Fiction / Contemporary

Synopsis: Clear-eyed and spirited, Taylor Greer grew up poor in rural Kentucky with the goals of avoiding pregnancy and getting away. But when she heads west with high hopes and a barely functional car, she meets the human condition head-on. By the time Taylor arrives in Tucson, Arizona, she has acquired a completely unexpected child, a three-year-old American Indian girl named Turtle, and must somehow come to terms with both motherhood and the necessity for putting down roots. Hers is a story about love and friendship, abandonment and belonging, and the discovery of surprising resources in apparently empty places.

The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S Lewis

Recommended by @agentpegcxrter here

Genre: Fantasy / Young Adult / Classics

Synopsis: Journeys to the end of the world, fantastic creatures, and epic battles between good and evil—what more could any reader ask for in one book? The book that has it all is The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, written in 1949 by Clive Staples Lewis. But Lewis did not stop there. Six more books followed, and together they became known as The Chronicles of Narnia.

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Recommended by @notimetoblog here / by @arosewithdaisies here

Genre: Fiction / Classics

Synopsis: This exemplary novel of the Jazz Age has been acclaimed by generations of readers. The story is of the fabulously wealthy Jay Gatsby and his new love for the beautiful Daisy Buchanan, of lavish parties on Long Island at a time when The New York Times noted "gin was the national drink and sex the national obsession," it is an exquisitely crafted tale of America in the 1920s. The Great Gatsby is one of the great classics of twentieth-century literature.

The Goldfinch by Donna Tart

Recommended by @lunardanvers here

Genre: Fiction / Contemporary

Synopsis: It begins with a boy. Theo Decker, a thirteen-year-old New Yorker, miraculously survives an accident that kills his mother. Abandoned by his father, Theo is taken in by the family of a wealthy friend. Bewildered by his strange new home on Park Avenue, disturbed by schoolmates who don't know how to talk to him, and tormented above all by his unbearable longing for his mother, he clings to one thing that reminds him of her: a small, mysteriously captivating painting that ultimately draws Theo into the underworld of art.As an adult, Theo moves silkily between the drawing rooms of the rich and the dusty labyrinth of an antiques store where he works. He is alienated and in love-and at the center of a narrowing, ever more dangerous circle.

The Gospel of Loki by Joanne M. Harris

Recommended by @wintersxsoul here

Genre: Fiction / Mythology / Fantasy

Synopsis: The novel is a brilliant first-person narrative of the rise and fall of the Norse gods - retold from the point of view of the world's ultimate trickster, Loki. It tells the story of Loki's recruitment from the underworld of Chaos, his many exploits on behalf of his one-eyed master, Odin, through to his eventual betrayal of the gods and the fall of Asgard itself.

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

Recommended by @marvelsangel here

Genre: Fiction / Young Adult

Synopsis: Sixteen-year-old Starr Carter moves between two worlds: the poor neighborhood where she lives and the fancy suburban prep school she attends. The uneasy balance between these worlds is shattered when Starr witnesses the fatal shooting of her childhood best friend Khalil at the hands of a police officer. Khalil was unarmed.Soon afterward, his death is a national headline. Some are calling him a thug, maybe even a drug dealer and a gangbanger. Protesters are taking to the streets in Khalil’s name. Some cops and the local drug lord try to intimidate Starr and her family. What everyone wants to know is: what really went down that night? And the only person alive who can answer that is Starr

The Immortal Rules Series by Julie Kagawa

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Young Adult / Fantasy / Paranormal

Synopsis: Allison Sekemoto survives in the Fringe, the outermost circle of a walled-in city. By day, she and her crew scavenge for food. By night, any one of them could be eaten. Some days, all that drives Allie is her hatred of them—the vampires who keep humans as blood cattle. Until the night Allie herself dies and becomes one of the monsters.

The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury

Recommended by @redandpurpleskies here

Genre: Science Fiction / Classic

Synopsis: The Martian Chronicles tells the story of humanity’s repeated attempts to colonize the red planet. The first men were few. Most succumbed to a disease they called the Great Loneliness when they saw their home planet dwindle to the size of a fist. They felt they had never been born. Those few that survived found no welcome on Mars. The shape-changing Martians thought they were native lunatics and duly locked them up.But more rockets arrived from Earth, and more, piercing the hallucinations projected by the Martians. People brought their old prejudices with them – and their desires and fantasies, tainted dreams. These were soon inhabited by the strange native beings, with their caged flowers and birds of flame.

The Setting Sun by Osamu Dazai

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Fiction / Japanese Literature / Classics

Synopsis: The story is told through the eyes of Kazuko, the unmarried daughter of a widowed aristocrat. Her search for self meaning in a society devoid of use for her forms the crux of the novel. It is a sad story, and structurally is a novel very much within the confines of the Japanese take on the novel in a way reminiscent of authors such as Nobel Prize winner Yasunori Kawabata – the social interactions are peripheral and understated, nuances must be drawn, and for readers more used to Western novelistic forms this comes across as being rather wishy-washy. Kazuko’s mother falls ill, and due to their financial circumstances they are forced to take a cottage in the countryside. Her brother, who became addicted to opium during the war is missing. When he returns, Kazuko attempts to form a liaison with the novelist Uehara. This romantic displacement only furthers to deepen her alienation from society.

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Recommended by @consttantina here

Genre: Historical Fiction / Fantasy / LGBT / Romance

Synopsis: Greece in the age of heroes. Patroclus, an awkward young prince, has been exiled to the court of King Peleus and his perfect son Achilles. By all rights their paths should never cross, but Achilles takes the shamed prince as his friend, and as they grow into young men skilled in the arts of war and medicine their bond blossoms into something deeper - despite the displeasure of Achilles' mother Thetis, a cruel sea goddess. But then word comes that Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped. Torn between love and fear for his friend, Patroclus journeys with Achilles to Troy, little knowing that the years that follow will test everything they hold dear.

The Song of the Lioness Series by Tamora Pierce

Recommended by @just-add-butter here

Genre: Fantasy / Young Adult

Synopsis: The Song of the Lioness quartet is the adventurous story of one girl's journey to overcome the obstacles facing her, become a valiant knight, and save Tortall from conquest. Alanna douses her female identity to begin her training in Alanna: The First Adventure, and when she gains squire status in In the Hand of the Goddess, her growing abilities make her a few friends -- and many enemies. Books 3 and 4 complete Alanna's adventure and secure her legend, with the new knight errant taking on desert tribesmen in The Woman Who Rides like a Man and seeking out the powerful Dominion Jewel in Lioness Rampant.

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Historical Fiction / Classics

Synopsis: The unforgettable novel of a childhood in a sleepy Southern town and the crisis of conscience that rocked it, To Kill A Mockingbird became both an instant bestseller and a critical success when it was first published in 1960. It went on to win the Pulitzer Prize in 1961 and was later made into an Academy Award-winning film, also a classic.Compassionate, dramatic, and deeply moving, To Kill A Mockingbird takes readers to the roots of human behavior - to innocence and experience, kindness and cruelty, love and hatred, humor and pathos. Now with over 18 million copies in print and translated into forty languages, this regional story by a young Alabama woman claims universal appeal. Harper Lee always considered her book to be a simple love story. Today it is regarded as a masterpiece of American literature.

#our world book day celebration

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ofallingstar · 6 years

Text

First lines from the books I read in 2018

Hawksmoor by Peter Ackroyd: Thus is 1711, the ninth year of the reign of Queen Anne, an Act of Parliament was passed to erect seven new Parish Churches in the Cities of London and Westminster, which commission was delivered to Her Majesty’s Office of Works in Scotland Yard.

Métamorphose en bord de ciel by Mathias Malzieu: Les oiseaux, ça s'enterre en plein ciel.

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen: The family of Dashwood had been long settled in Sussex.

Le plus petit baiser jamais recensé by Mathias Malzieu: Le plus petit baiser jamais recensé.

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll: Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, “and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice, “without pictures or conversations?”

Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There by Lewis Carroll: One thing was certain, that the white kitten had had nothing to do with it -it was the black kitten’s fault entirely.

Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson: Ba-room, ba-room, ba-room, baripity, baripity, baripity, baripity-Good.

The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin: Dear James: I had begun this letter five times and torn it up five times.

The Secret in Their Eyes by Eduardo Sacheri: Benjamín Miguel Chaparro stops short and decides he’s not going.

At the Mountains of Madness by H. P. Lovecraft: I am forced into speech because men of science have refused to follow my advice without knowing why.

The Minds of Billy Milligan by Daniel Keyes: This books is the factual account of the life, up to now, of William Stanley Milligan, the first person in U.S. history to be found not guilty of major crimes, by reason of unsanity, because he possessed multiple personalities.

The Bad Beginning by Lemony Snicket: If you are interested in stories in happy endings, you would be better off reading some other book.

Puckoon by Spike Milligan: Several and a half metric miles North East of Sligo, split by a cascading stream, her body on earth, her feet in water, dwells the microcephalic community of Puckoon.

Piercing by Ryu Murakami: A small living creature asleep in its crib.

The Reptile Room by Lemony Snicket: The stretch of the road that leads out of this city, past Hazy Harbor and into the town of Tedia, is perhaps the most unpleasant in the world.

And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini: So, then.

The Shape of Water by Guillermo Del Toro and Daniel Kraus: Richard Strickland reads the brief from General Hoyt.

Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell: He’d stopped trying to bring her back.

Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell: The Rue du Coq d’Or, Paris, seven in the morning.

We Were Liars by E. Lockhart: Welcome to the beautiful Sinclair family.

The Book Thief by Markus Zusack: First the colors. Then the humans. That’s usually how I see things. Or at least, how I try.

The Wide Window by Lemony Snicket: If you didn’t know much about the Baudelaire orphans, and you saw them sitting on their suitcases at Damocles Dock, you might think they were bound for an exciting adventure.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson: No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream.

Battles in the Desert by José Emilio Pacheco: I remember, I don’t remember.

The Miserable Mill by Lemony Snicket: Sometime during your lifetime -in fact, very soon- you may find yourself reading a book, and you may notice that a book’s first sentence can often tell you what sort of story your book contains.

The Age of American Unreason by Susan Jacoby: The word is everywhere, a plague spread by the President of the United States, television anchors, radio talk show hosts, preachers in megachurches, self-help gurus, and anyone else attempting to demostrate his or her identification with ordinary, presumably wholesome American values.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare: Theseus, duke of Athens, is planning the festivities for his upcoming wedding to the newly captured Amazon, Hippolyta.

Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert: We were in study hall when the headmaster walked in, followed by a new boy not wearing a school uniform, and by a janitor carrying a large desk.

The Austere Academy by Lemony Snicket: If you were going to give a gold medal to the last delightful person on Earth, you would have to give that medal to a person named Carmelita Spats, and if you didn’t give it to her, Carmelita Spats was the sort of person who would snatch it from your hands anyway.

Lord of the Flies by William Golding: The boy with fair hair lowered himself down the last few feet of rock and began to pick his way toward the lagoon.

The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare: Christopher Sly, a drunken beggar, is driven out of an alehouse by its hostess.

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee: When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro: My name is Katy H.

Hear the Wind Sing by Haruki Murakami: “There’s no such thing as a perfect piece of writing.”

The Ersatz Elevator by Lemony Snicket: The book you are holding in your two hands right now -assuming that you are, in fact, holding this book, and that you have only two hands- is one of two books in the world that will show you the difference between the words “nervous” and the word “anxious.”

Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare: Two households, both alike in dignity, (In fair Verona, where we lay our scene), From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

Adventure Time: The Enchiridion & Marcy’s Super Secret Scrapbook!!!: My Devoted Evil Daighter, Marceline, I admit we’ve had a somewhat volatile father-daughter relantionship ever since the regrettable Fry Incident.

A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin: Ser Waymar Royce glanced at the sky with desinterest.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley: You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings.

Pinball, 1973 by Haruki Murakami: I used to love listening to stories about faraway places.

The Vile Village by Lemony Snicket: No matter who you are, no matter where you live, and no matter how many people are chasing you, what you don’t read is often as important as what you do read.

Dracula by Bram Stoker: 3 May. Bistritz. –Left Munich at 8:35 P.M., on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6:43, but train was an hour late.

The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare: I know this hartred mocks all Christian virtue, but They I loathe: their very sight abhors me.

On the Road by Jack Kerouac: I first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up.

A Wild Sheep Chase by Haruki Murakami: It was a short one-paragraph item in the morning edition.

The Hostile Hospital by Lemony Snicket: There are two reasons why a writer would end a sentence with the word “stop” written in entirely in capital letters STOP.

The Most Beautiful: My Life with Prince by Mayte Garcia: The chain-link fence around Praisley Park is woven with purple ribbons and roses, love notes, tributes, and prayers for peace.

Hamlet by William Shakespeare: Who’s there?

A Clash of Kings by George R. R. Martin: The comet’s tail spread across the dawn, a red slash that bled above the crags of Dragonstone like a wound in the pink and purple sky.

Out of Africa by Isak Dinensen: I had a farm in Africa, at the foot of Ngong Hills.

Carrie by Stephen King: News item from the Westover (Me.) weekly enterprise, August 19, 1966: RAIN OF STONES REPORTED.

The Carnivorous Carnival by Lemony Snicket: When my workday is over, and I have closed my notebook, hidden my pen and sawed holes in my rented canoe so it cannot be found, I often like to spend the evening in conversation with my few surviving friends.

Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock by Matthew Quick: The P-38 WWII Nazi handgun looks comical lying on the breakfast table next to a boal of outmeal.

The Turn of the Screw by Henry James: The story had held us, round the fire, sufficiently breathless, but except the obvious remark that it was gruesome, as, on Christmas Eve on an old house, a strange tale should essentially be, I remember no comment uttered till somebody happened to say that it was the only tale he had met in which such a visitation had fallen on a child.

Carmilla by Sheridan J. Le Fanu: Upon a paper attached to the Narrative which follows, Doctor Hesselius has written a rather elaborated note, which he accompanies with a reference to his Essay on the strange subject which the MS. illuminates.

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson: No one has ever suffered as I have.

The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka: One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin.

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski: I still get nightmares.

Othello by William Shakespeare: In the streets of Venice, Iago tells Roderigo of his hatred for Othello, who has given Cassio the lieutenancy that Iago wanted and has made Iago a mere ensign.

Dance, Dance, Dance by Haruki Murakami: I often dream about the Dolphin Hotel.

The Slippery Slope by Lemony Snicket: A man of my acquaintance once wrote a poem called “The Road Less Traveled,” describing a journey he took through the woods along a path most travelers never used.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou: “What you looking at me for? I didn’t come to stay…”

A Most Haunted House by G. L. Davies: The house first came to my attention a few years ago.

Ghost Sex, The Violation by G. L. Davies: I met with Lisa at her home in Pembroke Dock.

Any Man by Amber Tamblyn: Am I in a body?

A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay: “This must be so difficult for you, Meredith.”

A Storm of Swords by George R. R. Martin: The day was grey and bitter cold, and the dogs would not take the scent.

Macbeth by William Shakespeare: When shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain?

You by Caroline Kepnes: You walk into the bookstore and you keep your hand on the door to make sure it doesn’t slam.

The Grim Grotto by Lemony Snicket: After a great deal of examining oceans, investigating rainstorms and staring very hard at several drinking fountains, the scientists of the worlds developed a theory regarding how water is distributed around our planet, which they have named “the water cycle.”

Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys: They say when trouble comes close ranks, and so the white people did.

Mansfield Park by Jane Austen: About thirthy years ago, Miss Maria Ward, of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds, had the luck to captivate Sir Thomas Bertram, of Mansfield Park, in the country of Northampton, and to be thereby raised to the rank of a baronet’s lady, with all the comforts and consequences of a handsome house and a large income.

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Brontë: My name is Gilbert Markham, and my story begings in October 1827, when I was twenty-four years old.

The Tempest by William Shakespeare: Boatswain!

Lucky by Alice Sebold: In the tunnel where I was raped, a tunnel that was once an underground entry to an amphitheather, a place where actors burst forth from underneath the seats of a crowd, a girl had been murdered and dismembered.

The Penultimate Peril by Lemony Snicket: Certain people had said that the world is like a calm pond, and that anytime a person does even the smallest thing, it is as if a stone has dropped into the pond, spreading circles of ripples further and further out, until the entire world has been changed by one tiny action.

#books #books 2018 #long post #like... really really long

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nickrbockr · 6 years

Text

Simon Vs Fan Fic: Chapter 2 - Drive

Ao3

Warning - Explicit Scene

“Nora, I don’t want to go to this as much as you don’t want me to go to this, but we have to go to this. Go.”

Dad was protesting with Nora as he was honest when he said he didn’t want to go. Nora is now in high school and I guess they have this new required evening orientation to meet all staff. I think it may have been a way for the administration to try to get ahead of what happened to me in high school as they try to find out a bit too much. Oops. Well, no, oops to Martin. Martin’s Oops.

Mom, the rule follower, kept telling them it was required and discussion was off the table. She also may be over correcting to be sure her youngest doesn’t have a similar experience as her middle child. It seems Alice had an average experience with high school, so Mom is going for the three bears experience for high school and ensure it’s a positive one. Nora is going to hate it.

“Si, I’m sure you’ll be okay here by yourself.” Nora said, emphasizing self portion of the word. Maybe before I told Mom and Dad about proposing, that would have got under my skin. I know the old me would have let it. But I’m not the old me. I’m Simon 2.0 with a Bram-processor. Ugh, I cheesed myself out there. Am I Dad now?

Mom looking wanting at me, begging for me to tell Nora with the slightest hint of brow furrowing and lip turning. She should have been an actress because she has subtly down to a craft. Meryl Streep herself would gracefully nod in defeat. I smile and use it an opportunity to tease Mom for torturing Nora and Dad.

“Actually, Nora,” I begin, using my stage education to not indicate, but inform. I shifted my weight on both of my legs and stuck my hands in my pocket. “there is something I want to tell you.”

Mom beamed and Dad rolled his eyes, picking up quickly what I was laying down, but not stopping me because he knew he would get to watch. Dad was not one to ruin a potentially fun joke at Mom’s expense, because much like good thoughts after tequila, they’re rare.

“O…kay?” Nora replied suspiciously, crossing her arms. Mom set down her purse to pull out her phone.

“Wow…uhm…okay…” I covered my mouth as if I was becoming emotional. I saw Dad in my peripheral stifling a full on belly laugh. “Nora…as I’ve gotten older and…” Fake blinking a tear out of my eye. “What I’m trying to say is, Mom and Dad don’t care if Bram is coming over anymore.”

Mom’s hopeful face turned into one of ‘listen here you little shit’ flat mouth expression. With a sigh, she threw her phone back in her purse.

“Bram is still in town?” Nora beamed. She was such an interesting person because Nora has known Nick and Leah for years, but she still dismisses them like they’re annoying apparitions who just won’t leave our house. Bram on the other hand. Bram just gets Nora and they have vibed ever since. Is it weird I’m kinda jealous? I had to work to get on Nora’s good side and Bram…just Bramed his way into our lives and made more than just me happy.

“He leaves tomorrow morning for a long semester. He’s telling me had to take six extra credit hours this first semester to get done on time so we may have fewer opportunities to see each other this year.”

“That’s okay, you guys are good. It’ll work.” Nora uttered quickly. I think I figured out why Nora and Bram get along. Both are introverts and both appear to be quiet until you get them around the right people.

“All of you are headed out already?”

That voice. That voice! Alice stood with a small bag on her shoulder.

“H-H-Hey! Allie!” Dad shouted. He then whispered something into her ear and she shook her head.

“Sorry Dad, mom texted me first, you have to go to this.”

“What are you doing home? Thought you weren’t going to get here till after I left?”

“I made it work, Si. This is the last year for sure we will all be able to be in the house at the same time for sure.” Alice was always traveling for her job. I was never sure what she did and she made sure to keep it that way. I think she liked the air of mystery around her person. All I know is that it had to do with IT.

With Alice and Nora here, I guess I could tell both of them now about Bram and me. Mom would certainly enjoy it and may cause her to forget to be angry at me, Dad, and Nora later.

“Well, since you are both here now. I wanna tell you both something.”

“You’re finally giving Miley Cyrus a shot,” guessed Nora.

“You’re taking my advice and wearing normal cut jeans,” assaulted Alice.

“Okay, this wasn’t a guessing game. But seriously. I just told Mom and Dad a few days ago…but…”

Why am I nervous again? Good, bubbly, positive nervous. Bram and me touching nervous.

“I’m going to ask Bram to marry me.”

Nora covered her hands with her palms and I’ve never seen her do that. Alice placed her chin on fists and smiled how Alice smiled. Mom had somehow snuck her phone out of her purse and filmed again, much to my eye roll and Dad was hoping this could get them out of going to the conference.

“No, Jack, Nora, get in the car.” Mom said through choked back tears.

“Are you staying?” I asked Alice, simultaneously hoping she wasn’t for Bram’s sake and also because I hadn’t seen her in awhile and also would love to catch up.

“No sir, I texted Bram to be sure you weren’t going to be nice and see if I wanted to stay. It’s your last night with him, I’ll go busy myself until late tonight.”

I both hate and love how close my siblings are to Bram. But damn do they all know what they’re doing.

“We’ll talk all about your proposal tomorrow morning. Besides, the less I know the less damaging I can be. Wish the same could be said about Mom.”

“You have no idea.”

Buzz.

I’m outside :)

Come on in, door’s open

Dancing ellipsis only fluttered my heart when it came from Bram.

Come out, I have a surprise.

The heart flutter evolved into a full warm dance in my chest. I opened the door and there was Bram, on the curb, leaning on his dad’s convertible with aviators that perfectly shaped his face.

“Dad let me borrow it for a few hours, let’s go for a drive, stud.”

College was so good to Bram. He started regular gym schedules Freshman year of college and hasn’t stopped. His shoulders broadened and filled with tone muscle that dripped to his firm pectorals and ended settling on his toned abs. He had the upside down triangle upper body shape and I can’t say the sentence without becoming aroused.

“Sounds good, let me tell Alice. Alice! I’m going on a drive with Bram!”

“Great cause I have to poop and I didn’t want to have to do that out okay thanks love you bye!”

Jesus, Alice. Bram must have heard because I saw his smile.

Driving down the Georgia dusk with Bram was indescribable. It was still light enough for both Bram and I to validate wearing sunglasses so we could look cool while in the car. Bram doesn’t have to try to look cool, though. He just radiates it without trying, and it’s what makes me love him even more.

The only thing that would make this drive better would be some music. I look at Bram and he immediately knows what I’m going to ask.

“Yes, pick a song.”

Is he that deep in my head already? I love you, I love you, I love you. Did you hear that? Maybe he did because he just looked at me and his lips curled slightly. Okay, Bram, I will pick a song, but something you’ve recently purchased. I go through his phone and see a band I never heard of. Okay, sounds promising. A song called Nervous Dancing? Sounds like he was thinking of me when he purchased it. I hit play.

“Oh, Nick recommended these guys to me. I kinda like em, especially the song you’re playing.”

But your eyes are dumbing me down and I can't take mine off of you

The lyrics rolled out of the speakers as the wind tussled my hair. Nick was Bram's roommate since Freshman year.

Bram came to a red light and grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers. I let out slow happy exhale. This is what I want. Forever. I don’t want things like this to ever end. Light touching from Bram is willing mind control, like I can feel him ghost into my body and he moves me and I sit back and let him. I lay my head on his shoulder.

“We’ve done this three times already and this will be the last time, but it’s always so difficult to do after being here all summer with you.” Bram pined, words pouring softly into my ear.

I smile because I was thinking the same thing.

“It’s what we get for finding the person we love in high school.” I reply, sounding like the more emotionally stable one.

My view of you’s cutting through the bitter storms of the sea

“There’s not a day that goes by that don't regret that I had my stupid crush on you freshman year. I don’t care that it made me feel weird, that I didn’t know what do to with it. Simon, you’re so worth it. You were worth every ounce of my stress and figuring myself out. I don’t know if I ever told you that.”

The wind licking my face could have been the reason my eyes began to water, but come on, that’s not true. I rub my head deeper into his shoulder.

Let’s just drive I wanna see what the wind does to your hair

“You never needed to tell me that, Bram. I always felt it.” I kiss his neck and it makes him shiver and exhale in palpitations.

We drive for another ten minutes. The houses and sky are becoming darker and the sun leaves a orange-yellow lip on the horizon. Bram removes his glasses and his brown eyes find mine. Smiles grow on our faces.

“Let’s get back to your house.” He recommends.

I know I shouldn’t be, but I continue to kiss the soft skin of his neck as Bram’s musk found its way into my nose.

“Si…be careful,” He replied airly, motioning down at his jeans. I could see the outline of himself press greater and greater at his jeans, begging to be let free.

Even after all this time, it feels like a new discovery of passion each time Bram and I are able to spend time with one another. We made a system of visiting one another during the school years, but nothing is better than the summers when we’re together almost every day. Some days we do nothing, some days we do everything. I love both of those days. I love Bram Greenfeld. Soccer calves and all.

The drive home seems to take much longer. Were there this many lights? Were the roads this long and winding? I swallow saliva and anticipation. Bram licks his lips, a tell-tale sign he's feeling the same way as I do. Hunger looks the same on all faces.

We walk into the house as we kick off our shoes (Mom’s orders). I saw the deep brown eyes I fell for time and time again and it awakened a warm sensation below my stomach. He bewitched me and I was under his spell. I fell into his lips and pressed sensually against his body. My lips were able to split his and our tongues met.

That was always the first thing that got me going. I will never get sick of Bram’s kiss. I stop him before we go further (and believe me it would have) and I drag him behind me like he’s my Fay Wray and I’m climbing the Empire State building.

My room hasn’t changed much from high school. The only difference is that now I have to hide condoms and lube from Mom who, as she claims, ‘just likes to clean my room while I’m away’ as a reason to snoop. I know it’s in a loving mother sort of snoopy way, but not when you’re trying to hide your gay sex necessities from your heterosexual mother.

I shut the door and lock it, having since my sophomore year in college convinced my dad to install lockable doors. Bram couldn’t seem to wait as he already had his shirt off. The sun had set now, but light from the street creeped in through my blinds and cast light against his gorgeous frame. I couldn’t help myself when I pushed him onto my bed, but I wasn’t in control of my body, Bram was.

I straddled his lap and I could feel him pressed against my thigh, a warm, hard part of his body pleading to escape their denim prison. Bram’s pupils dilated as I kissed the skin next to his belly button and he let out a small, innocent moan. It made his penis pulsate and I saw it move slightly in his jeans. Enough is enough, it would be inhumane not to assist him in this troubled time.

I unbuttoned his jeans and carefully pulled them down as to not bend it in a hurtful way. It bobbed back and was allowed more room in his boxer briefs. I can never get over how…how do I put this in the best way possible…how god-damn big Bram is. He kicks of his jeans and I go to kiss his inner thigh just below the fabric of his underwear. While I’m doing this, I’m unbuttoning my own jeans and pull off my underwear with it as well.

“Si, get up here right now.”

Yes, sir. I shoot up and Bram sees I’m now naked except for my shirt, my own penis pointing out from under it. Bram licks his lips and commands me towards him with his eyes. I sit on the bed next to him and he pulls off my shirt.

So you know how I said Bram made a gym regimen, I didn’t want to fall behind either. I’m not the most fit, but I’m no longer the lankey teen I was in high school. My definition isn’t near what Bram’s is, but I’m happy with it and Bram loves it. He kisses my chest as I play with his penis still inside his boxer briefs. Sighs and moans escape between his lips as he moves down to my chest.

“Bram, take them off.”

He complies and they fly off the bed and now both of us are staring at one another, naked, erect. I crawl to him across the bed with my butt high in the air and stop just before my lips touch the tip. I breathe on it a few times and I can hear Bram’s moans aching for me to put my lips around it. I comply and I am able to go about half way down on it.

“Oha,” Bram whispers out as I’m moving back and forth with my head. Giving Bram a blow job always gets me hard to the point of it hurting. I love being the person doing this to him. I love that I’m the only one who ever has, and I love that I hope to be the only one who gets to. I can feel his pleasure as his body aches from it, his soft skin and muscle felt under my hands.

After a minute, I am able to get down to the base of his penis. It took me about a year to perfect, but I love doing it because every time I do, Bram makes a noise that makes me hot and sweaty and harder than ever. I come up for some air and he pushes me back onto my bed, my head on my pillows and he returns the favor. His lips and mouth are so warm and soft around my penis and I swear I could come right now if I needed to. But I would never take sex with Bram away from me. Or Bram. Or the universe.

Bram moves up to my head and caresses his tongue into my mouth and I can feel my body relax into his pleasure, his heaven he’s bringing me to. I move my hand to where I hide the lube and move it onto the bed, never, EVER stopping kissing him. When I go for the condom, Bram’s strong arm stops me.

“No. not tonight.”

No sex!? Wait, what?!

“What?”

“No condom, not tonight.”

I’ve never had unprotected sex with Bram, but…I didn’t fight his request. We’ve only been with each other and I will be asking him to marry me and I don’t want to have him wear a condom either. I want to feel Bram. I want to feel every inch of Bram inside me with no interference. Thinking about it begets pre-come and I see it glisten as it drips down onto my stomach.

“Yes. Absolutely. Bram.”

Bram bites his lip and his eyes flutter. “Say it again.”

I add more heat to it, “Bram.”

His penis jumped from arousal and I knew it had to happen. Now.

I apply lube to his hot, hard penis as he uses some to massage it around my butt hole. Bram is always good at making sure the lube is little warm in his hand before applying it, and I can feel his finger prepare it for what’s about to come. His lips returned to mine and we sat on our knees on my bed, exchanging kisses and moans between what I only know is the highest of pleasures. I would have never thought I’d feel this with a person, and Bram discovered it. We discovered it together.

“I need you. Right now. Si. I need it.” Bram stumbled out of his mouth between kisses.

I have never been harder in my life. I’m about to have bareback sex with the love of my life who I will be asking to marry me. I need it more.

“Right now. Bram, I need….Bram.”

Bram lays me down on my back and I could feel his head slowly push into me until I was encompassing half of it. He was about to pull slowly back and I grabbed his back.

“N..no, all of it.”

Bram made a worried, but aroused, but horny, but surprised, but loving face as he plunged deeper into me and the feeling was absolutely incredible. I felt his pubic hair against my butt and Bram’s eyes were beginning to roll around his head, floating in pleasure.

None of it hurt. The only thing I felt was the most connected to him I’ve ever felt. It was not longer Si and Bram. We were one. No condom, just love. Just us.

He began to thrust and the feeling of his hard penis unencumbered by latex stroke my insides. It was a feeling that was even better than all of the best sex we’ve had in the past. Our faces were one of confused pleasure as our mouths hung open and our eyebrows danced attempting to figure out how to showcase what we were both feeling.

Bram’s sweat and our mixed as he moved me close to him and increased the speed of this thrusts. His arms were behind my back and mine were wrapped around his broad shoulders. Our chests touched and created more heat and sweat and pleasure and love.

I pushed him back onto his knees, him still inside me and I began to ride him. It felt. So. Good. His faces, his lip bites, his hungry eyes and tongue. All of it made this first time without protection something spiritual.

“Si…It’s..I’m already,” Bram moaned out.

I wrapped my legs around him and tilted him back on top of me as his speed increased even more.

“Do it.” I moaned.

I couldn’t help myself after Bram nodded his head at me like it was an order.

I came. He came.

I felt him pulsate inside of me.

I felt a part of him was now a part of me.

I felt a part of me was now a part of him.

I felt we were floating. Time stopped and we shared something divine.

Maybe I’m looking into this. Maybe it was the best because our bodies knew something our hearts didn’t. Maybe it was divine because he was going to be mine forever.

Our choral panting brought us down from the divine dimension and we returned to being Bram and Simon. He went to the bathroom first and I followed with my phone, looking up how to properly ensure how to be the most sanitary now that we’re…we’re no longer needing protection. We don’t need it anymore. It served its purpose.

I flushed the toilet and Bram was half awake on the bed.

“Si. I love you. I love you so much it hurts, like I want to become a bigger person to store more love.”

I amble to him and crawl into bed. I lay my head on his chest.

“Bram, I’m so in love with you that it drives me crazy. It drives me to be a better me. I want this forever.” I tip my toe into the water of his thoughts.

“I want this forever too. You and me and…lube and no condoms.”

We both laugh as I slap him lightly on the chest. Soon after, we both fall asleep.

#love simon #simonverse #simonvs #svthsa #love #marriage #gay #gay love #simon x bram #simon spier #bram greenfeld #love simon fanfiction #love simon fic #my fic

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topfygad · 5 years

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Traveleurope Blog | Vacation strategies, advices and valuable infoEco-welcoming holiday seasons in the Uk – Traveleurope Website

Heading eco-welcoming for your subsequent getaway does not have to indicate forfeiting your home comforts and luxuries. Lots of eco holiday break households are effectively-geared up with all the mod-negatives you want for a relaxed and unforgettable stay. So if you’ve been preparing an eco-pleasant holiday break of your personal, go through on to explore some of the greatest-positioned spots in the United kingdom. No matter if you’re on the lookout for a relaxing retreat hidden in the hills or an action-packed seaside holiday getaway, we have obtained you coated.

Bumble Barn / Kent, England

If you’re on the lookout for a significant holiday getaway residence, seem no more than Bumble Barn. Established in the countryside, it is a modern-day and exclusive eco-retreat. Sleeping up to 6, wake up and get pleasure from an al fresco breakfast on the patio, though soaking up views of the surrounding valleys. You could even want to go away your car and vacation itinerary guiding as traditional village stores and state pubs are only a stone’s toss absent.

If you do one point: Check out the historical woodland of Spong Wooden, a nature reserve correct on the doorstep of Bumble Barn. Keep an eye out for the elusive roe deer who wander by the trees!

Exactly where to consume: Just a 5-minute wander from Bumble Barn is the spouse and children-operate George Inn, a traditional rural pub with common songs nights and tasty property-cooked food. Popular with people and locals alike, cosy up up coming to the open up fire and take pleasure in a warming food.

The Levels / Somerset, England

Cosy, modern and established in the picturesque village of Cheddar, The Stages is a amazing luxury eco-lodge for two. With capabilities together with a smart Television, walk-in waterfall shower and expert wine cooler, you may not ever want to depart The Concentrations, in particular if you have been on the lookout for lodges with warm tubs. Following a day of exploring your scenic environment, soak your stresses absent in the effervescent tub, even though gazing up at the sky.

If you do a single issue: Attracting above 500,000 guests a year, Cheddar is finest recognized for its historic Cheddar Gorge. Choose a journey down into the historical caves and investigate the wealthy record of Gough’s Cave in which prehistoric remains have been uncovered. Alternatively, the close by rock climbing and cost-free-fall activities will seize the desire of thrillseekers.

The place to try to eat: As you wander by Cheddar, it is not possible to overlook the brilliant pastel blue exterior of the Lion Rock Tea Rooms. Within, the cosy cafe provides a mouthwatering selection of product teas and sweet treats.

Sea Mist / Cornwall, England

Brightly painted seashore huts, sandy coves and rugged coastal cliffs spring to brain when we believe of the South West. Concealed away in a secluded and idyllic valley, this canine-helpful cottage in Cornwall is great for relaxing by the seaside. Intended with all the common household comforts in thoughts, you’ll seem forward to returning to Sea Mist immediately after a enjoyable-crammed day invested splashing about and producing holiday break reminiscences at the close by Porthtowan Beach.

If you do one matter: Shelling out a day at Blue Flag shorelines is a specified, but if you want to attempt a little something a minimal distinct, Koru Kayaking gives guided adventures with remarkable sights together the St. Agnes coastline. Maintain an eye out for gray seals and basking sharks alongside the way!

Where by to take in: With its shabby-chic decor, surfer vibes and relaxed environment, Blue Bar could be regarded as the quintessential beachside bar. From burgers to pizzas and regionally sourced seafood dishes, there’s a thing for all people. Make absolutely sure to stop by just right before sunset to appreciate awe-inspiring sea views of the sunlight placing guiding the coast.

Very little Trees / Carmarthenshire, South Wales

This cosy, Scandanavian-style log cabin has every thing you will need for a passionate retreat for two. Nestled between the trees, you are going to knowledge finish tranquillity for the duration of your stay – suitable if you are on the lookout for a crack from the busy bustle of day-to-day existence. If you can tear your self absent from the peace and silent of Small Trees, you are going to find lots of Carmarthenshire countryside and coastal strolls proper on your doorstep.

If you do one particular matter: The close by village of Amroth is element of the breathtaking Pembrokeshire Coastal Route. Go away your motor vehicle on the generate and choose a calming stroll along the sandy shores of Pendine Sands, just two miles from Minor Trees.

Wherever to consume: For a regular Sunday lunch with all the house comforts, the Amroth Arms serves up fantastic dwelling-cooked food items. In the summer months months, sit outside the house and take pleasure in breathtaking sights of the sweeping shoreline.

The Hen Get rid of / Whitby, North Yorkshire

If you are hunting for some thing among glamping retreats and holiday break parks in the United kingdom, the Hen Drop may well just be for you. Located in the picturesque environment of the North York Moors, this quirky retreat has all the basic principles required for a relaxed and memorable continue to be.

Boasting splendid views of the rolling valleys and coastline beyond, The Chicken Drop is preferably found for all those who take pleasure in a secluded, rural atmosphere. Keen walkers will appreciate the abundance of countryside and coastal going for walks paths in the spot. You can even bring your puppy along to love them also!

If you do one thing: The historic seaside port of Whitby is just a ten-minute travel north from The Hen Get rid of. When you are there, discover the record of Whitby Abbey, a gothic 7th-century monastery that has been the muse of artists and writers for generations, which includes Bram Stoker, creator of ‘Dracula’.

In which to try to eat: Just a limited push away in the town of Whitby, Trenchers is a common Italian-type cafe serving up sustainably-sourced seafood dishes. The restaurant was just lately awarded the title of ‘Fish and Chip Cafe of the Year’ so you could possibly want to attempt the all-time seaside common.

About the Creator

Andrea Guerriero Hello, I am Andrea, a journey blogger, world wide web programmer, search engine optimization apprentice and novice photographer centered in Milan. I adore studying, I love new music. I like to travel but only if I go away on a mission! I’ve been touring via most of Europe and I adore crafting about it. I adore pictures, especially as a way to document encounters, spots, functions. My Nikon D300 camera is often with me, and it assists me in sharing my life with the rest of the entire world. Finding in contact with new people, distinct everyday living types and overseas traditions, and write about it, is all I can request for.

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filmandvinyl · 7 years

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Review-Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror (1922)

Nosferatu. Does this word not sound like the midnight call of the Bird of Death? Do not utter it, or the images of life will fade - into pale shadows and ghostly dreams will rise from your heart and feed your Blood -opening title card from Nosferatu

I remember the first time I saw F.W. Murnau’s expressionist masterpiece Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror. I was a twenty-year-old college kid and, at the time, there was an enormous amount of hype around the Twilight films. Personally, I was not interested in participating. Halloween was approaching so I want to find a horror film that will get me into the All Hallows Eve spirit. Netflix had Nosferatu available and I decided to give this classic a try. I turned off the lights, made some popcorn and press play on the Netflix. After one viewing, I was in awe. Nosferatu is one of the first silent films I’ve ever seen that’s left me speechless.

Nosferatu also introduced me to German Expressionism and the work of F. W. Murnau. The film is not scary by any means, especially by today’s standards. Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror, an adaptation of Bram Stoker’s "Dracula", is a poetic haunting piece on the vampire tale.

The story takes place in Wisborg where Thomas Hutter (Gustav von Wangenheim) is asked by his employer Knock (Alexander Granach) to go to Transylvania so he could sell a mysterious Count Orlok (Max Schreck) a new home. Hutter leaves his wife, Ellen (Greta Schroder), in the company of friends while he makes his journey. On his way to Orlok’s castle, he is continuously warned about Orlok which he ignores, including any information about the vampire legend. During dinner with the count, Hutter cuts his finger and quickly discovers Orlok’s deadly secret-a vampire who sucks the blood of others and carries his coffin filled dirt from the Black Death. Meanwhile, Ellen is experiencing bizarre phenomena back at home. Hutter realizes he must go back to Wisborg to protect his wife before Orlok, who decides to travel to Wisborg by sea, gets to her.

Max Shreck's unsettling, marvelous performance as the vampire Count Orlok had an effect on me. At the time, I thought to myself why can all vampire films be like this today? Since Bela Lugosi starring as Dracula in the 1931 film, we’ve become used to seeing a sexier, suave, and less monstrous portrayal of the vampire from actors like Christopher Lee as Dracula, and even Tom Cruise as Lestat from Interview with A Vampire. Orlok is different than our modern take on the mythical creature. His features resemble a rat’s face with sunken cheeks, protruding eyes, and fangs. His hands look like razor-sharp claws. Whenever he walked, he was stiff as if his ability to become a creature of the night was more of a curse. He’s unlike any “Dracula” we have ever seen.

While Schreck’s Orlok doesn’t exude the sexiness of Bela Lugosi or Christopher Lee, there is still a sexual undertone in Nosferatu that I couldn’t ignore. Eroticism is all about sexual pleasure and a consensual share of power. Here, there is no pleasure. Orlok’s only about displaying his power over others. When Hutter accidentally cuts his finger (making a bloody mess at that) Orlok advance towards him, which could be translated as homoerotic. Hutter blatantly refuses to stay with Orlok when he asks him to stay up till sunrise with him. He is still overcome by Orlok’s shadow and he’s left with two mosquito bite marks. Orlok’s pursuit completely takes a 180, showing a more of a bisexual nature when Hutter clumsily shows the count a photo of Ellen (Greta Schroder). Orlok moves forward with his plans to move to Wisborg just get a taste of her blood. His desire for Ellen is primal. Sexually, he’s repressed but that all changes in the film’s final act.

Ellen is another interesting character, whose actions serve more of an importance than Hutter’s in my opinion. She’s elegant, soft, and sensitive. Maybe too sensitive? When we meet her at the beginning of the film, Hutter surprises her with flowers. She shows her very emotional side by practically mourning over their death. Her response could be seen as laughable but I saw her as a woman who was deeply sympathetic. While Nosferatu doesn’t go into spiritual manners (God and Christianity are completely taken out of this adaptation), I think she and her husband are a good example of masculine and feminine energy.

Hutter is childlike, even naive. He is always up for an adventure from the start of the film. More importantly, Hutter is a man of reason. His real-estate agent employer Knock tells him about selling a nearby property to Orlok, Hutter is startled initially but agrees to go see the Count at “the land of Phantoms and Thieves” because the deal was possibly lucrative. When Hutter goes to stay at an inn, he throws the copy of the book of vampires to the floor without a care. The idea of a vampire seems highly unlikely in Hutter's eyes until Orlok completely shatters his reality. Ellen is fluid. She goes by what she feels. When her husband tells her about going to see Orlok the immediate reaction is to worry. At first, her fragility could be seen as a weakness because she is vulnerable.

One of my favorite moments of the film when Orlock tries to attack Hutter again. While at the same time, Ellen wakes up screaming Hutter’s name, walking on the edge of balconies. Just as the vampire finishes with Hutter, the film cuts back to Ellen feeling exhausted. There’s this brief moment when Ellen calls for Hutter and it cuts back to Nosferatu turning around. It’s as if he hears her and walks away because of her interruption. The title card or the narrator of this tale says Ellen “hears the call of the death bird”. and she does! But how? Do Ellen and Nosferatu share a connection? Or is it Ellen’s intuition? Maybe it’s a bit of both.

You can say Schroder's character is overreacting or overly-sensitive or emotional. She’s all vulnerability. This is her biggest strength. Ellen’s ability to feel on a deeper level is not a weakness at all. We see this at end of the film she uses her sensitivity (and her blood), in spite of all her fears, to lure Nosferatu to save the town.

Then there's Knock, who is strange from the get-go. He's short with wild white hair and a cheesy grin. We learn from the title cards that the townspeople don't know much about him except he knows how to make a lot of money. However, his ability to read Orlok's occult looking letter is bizarre. It makes you question their relationship from the beginning up until Knock calls Orlok “master” later in the film.

Though death is one of the major themes, there are two more that stood out to me. One of them is time. For Orlok, time is of the essence. Murnau’s use of fast speed motion during Hutter’s final ride to the Orlok’s castle and the scene when Orlok is packing his coffin for his trip to Wisborg. They both show Orlok’s urgency is potent just like his animalistic desire for blood. Ironically, the count, seemingly a man trapped within this vampire curse over an unknown number of centuries, loses track of time when he feasts upon Ellen until the sun goes up.

Another theme is a disease. A form of horror that can corrupt both man and nature. Orlok's presence goes past hiding in the shadows. We learn early on he sleeps in, and carries, his coffin filled with dirt from 14th century’s The Black Death. Because of this, Orlok spreads disease land and sea. When he’s aboard the Empusa, he also leaves a trail of rats as he kills the ship’s crew. He brings his curse to the city of Wisborg where the townspeople fall prey to the plague. They unleash all their blame on the mentally deranged and Orlok’s devotee, Knock.

The film's full title is Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror. The word “symphony” tells me that there is more to this story than Orlok biting peoples’ neck. Sound, text, and images help bring this frightening atmospheric work to life.

Nosferatu is highly praised for its visual style and as a standout masterwork from the German Expressionist period. F. W. Murnau’s film is slightly different from other expressionists movies like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, where the sets were built with jagged edges. Murnau’s scenes are shot on location. Most of the scenes are heavily moody thanks to his ability to capture lights and shadows. They all blend together to give this movie an almost realistic, supernatural quality. The shot of Orlok going up the stairs to meet Ellen in the film’s final act is one of the most iconic shots of the movie. We only see his silhouette moving. The shadow of the tall, hunchback, rat-like vampire makes us all feel death is inches away, just as Ellen knew her fate was behind her bedroom door.

Murnau uses shots of nature as a way of foreshadowing danger as well as symbolism. When Hutter makes the journey through the Carpathian mountains, the director makes us feel their majestic presence. The camera pans across the shadowy crevices. While it is a beautiful shot, it sets the stage for an eerie tale to unfold. During his stay at an inn, the townspeople shudder at the sound of Orlok's name. The inn's patron says “the werewolf is roaming the forest.” Then, director interjects images a hyena on the hunt as breeds of horses scatter away. It doesn’t stop Hutter from continuing his trip. It does, however, tells the audience what kind of person Orlok is before we even meet him.

Murnau continues to interject more foreboding nature images between the action. Shots of the ghost ship Empusa sailing through the sea. Crashes of waves on the shore of a cemetery as Ellen awaits her husband’s return. He includes scenes of Professor Bulwer (John Gottowt) comparing venus fly traps to a vampire. The details are minor. Yet, they all play the part of Murnau’s cinematic symphony.

F.W. Murnau had to rewrite multiple pages of Henrik Galeen's screenplay, including the ending. Galeen was a screenwriter who worked on director Paul Wegener's The Golem and The Student of Prague. Since the production company, Prana Films, couldn't get the film rights from Bram Stoker's widow, Galeen took several liberties when writing the script. He made changes to the characters' names. He also changed the setting, removed the Van Helsing character, and added the ship scene. Galeen was also was influenced by dark romanticism and is responsible for much of the expressionist style of the movie. As much as I love Murnau for his directing, I find the script just as poetic as Murnau’s film work. You may or may not be into poetry, but reading the title cards in this film felt like I was reading words from Edgar Allan Poe.

Another aspect of this movie I need to talk about is the music, originally composed by Hans Erdmann. The music may vary depending which version you watch. I rewatched the Kino version and the orchestral rendition of Erdmann’s score hits every scene perfectly. From the moment the film presents the opening credits, the music sucks you in (no pun intended). It’s dramatic and scary where it needs to be. When Orlok is about to strike, the music adds to the level of intensity to Schreck's performance. It’s not all doom and gloom. There are lighter moments in the beginning of the film when the music genuinely made me feel like those were happier times.

If you never saw this film, I highly recommend you spend an evening this October to check it out. Even if you are unfamiliar with German Expressionism. Let this movie be your first lesson on the film movement and an intro to F.W. Murnau’s work. Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror is one of the finest examples of cinema to lay the groundwork for the horror genre today.

#nosferatu #f.w. murnau #movies #german expressionism #personal thoughts #personal opinion #movie review #horror movies #horror #silent film

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splashrollstumble · 5 years

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Brasov – More than Just Dracula, a Hidden Jewel of Eastern Europe

I came to Brasov with the plan to stay just one night and, like everyone else, all I planned to see was Bran Castle: the legendary home of the Vampire Dracula.

On arrival, I checked into a very cheap hostel (45 lei / €8) called Art Hostel which isn’t in the best location but since I was only planning to stay a night I didn’t mind. It’s probably the smallest hostel in the world, with only one 8-bed room and a tiny kitchen and common area but I really liked it. That evening I headed out to explore, not expecting to find much in this pokey little village. After a brief walk around the old town square and the Black Church, I discovered a busy looking road full of bars and restaurants. Being Saturday night, it was quite packed with a bustling mix of young and old locals.

I soon came across a bar called Biblioteque, which caught my eye because I know it as the word for ‘library’. Turning up the long passageway that forms the entrance to the bar I found it was lined with bookshelves full of old books, antiques, and board games. Immediately I was enamored with this bizarre find and began to realize there is far more to this pokey little village than I first assumed. After a few beers and a bit more exploring the awesome nightlife on offer I knew I wasn’t going to be leaving Brasov tomorrow.

In the end, I actually stayed a whole two weeks AND didn’t even go to Bran Castle in that time. I did cycle the 25 kms to the Bran Castle location on my first day as planned but it was a Sunday and the place was absolutely packed. It looked like Disney World with all the cheap souvenirs, stalls and hawkers trying to sell you crap. It was not at all like the creepy environment I expected and I quickly decided I had wasted my time coming here. Also, it was never even the home of Vlad the Impaler who inspired Dracula – it just looks similar to the castle described in Bram Stoker’s Dracula book.

On the cycle home, I decided to take a different route via Poiana Brasov (the ski resort overlooking Brasov) due in part to roadworks I had encountered on the way and the feeling that I should at least do something while I’m out. The road was fairly long and steep but I didn’t have my bags so it went smoothly despite the lack of any high range gears on my bike. As I climbed I quickly began falling in love with the surrounding nature and by the time I was cycling down the hill on the opposite side back into Brasov, I had again reiterated to myself that I would be staying longer.

I entered back into Brasov through a nice dirt path and then turned on to a road that followed the ancient walls and a small river. Suddenly I came across a door in the rock face opposite the river with a bridge leading to it. It was pitch black inside and as I stood wondering if it was open to exploring, somebody popped out and confirmed that its a collection of tunnels that you can explore with your phone torch.

So I went in and spent about an hour exploring and got quite deep into the caves, having to crawl at some places. Eventually, I grew concerned I may not find my way out and started heading back. It was a bit confusing at parts but I eventually escaped unscathed. I thought it’s pretty cool to just have something like this open to the public with none of the usual worries about health and safety. Oh Romania, you silly sausage.

Getting closer to town

That evening I began to develop a rather nasty cough and spent the next day in bed at the hostel, getting some work done but mostly trying to rest. It may have been from overexerting myself on the cycle, or possibly something I inhaled while in the cave? Either way, I booked another night in the hostel and stayed in that night. A hitch-hiker showed up and we got chatting and he said hitch-hiking in Romania was very easy and people were friendly. He went out and when he came back showed me some amazing pictures from a hike he had done up to the Brasov sign, so I resolved to do the same before I leave.

The following day I abandoned plans I had made to leave Brasov and go cycle the Transfagarasan Highway and instead moved to another hostel more centrally located. Incredibly, this hostel was even smaller than Art Hostel, with only one 6-bed dorm and a tiny bathroom but a slightly bigger kitchen. I got some more work done and then went for a hike to the Brasov sign, which turned out to be quite a lot further and higher than the hitch-hiker had made out. It was totally worth the view though, and some good exercise.

When I got back, another cycle-tourer was at the hostel – a French guy who was heading in the opposite direction to me. We chatted a bit and then he headed out to an Irish bar called Deane’s where I later found him. The bar was having a 10 lei pizza special (about €2) so I joined him and some girls he had met and we had a few €1.50 beers and pizza. I guess it’s not the most traditional Romanian place but it’s a really cool bar, and they do karaoke every Tuesday!

The 7 Ladders Canyon

By now I had picked some info about the surrounding area and heard about an incredible hike up a gorge called the 7 Ladders Canyon. I headed off early the next day on the 10 km cycle to the canyon, stopping briefly for some very cheap McDonalds breakfast along the way. I locked up my bike on arrival and began the easy 2-hour walk to the start of the gorge. It follows a small river and a really awesome looking zip-line course which I planned to do on the way down. Entrance to the 7-ladders canyon is about 30 lei (about €6) so remember to bring some cash if you intend doing this. Luckily, I had enough, but the zipline is quite a bit more (80 lei), so I decided against that.

Hence the name, the canyon consists of a climb up 7 steel ladders through a huge gorge created by the river and has a similar feel to Antelope Canyon in the US. Along the way, I met a Norwegian girl who was living and studying in Copenhagen. She wanted to continue the hike all the way to the top of the mountain but was afraid of bears and asked if I would join her. I said yes, of course, because it was the chivalrous thing to do and not at all because she was drop-dead gorgeous.

After what felt like ages up steep sections over rocks and dirt where the path sometimes disappeared completely, we eventually reached a clearing with a small hut. The hut was a refuge for hikers and had some supplies so the Norwegian girl bought us a coke each since I had shared my water and biscuits with her. From here it was another hour or so hike to the highest point and we bumped into some others who decided to join us – a Norwegian guy who looked like a Viking, a French girl named Camille and an English girl from London. Just as we were heading off a small bear walked out of the forest up ahead and crossed the path but didn’t even notice us. After that, we were all on the lookout for more bears but sadly didn’t see any.

We did, however, bump into a shepherd who got very mad with us for apparently scaring his sheep off the path although we couldn’t understand what he was actually shouting. Despite taking another two hours, the hike to the top was totally worth it as the views are unlike anything I’ve ever seen in my life. I’ve heard that the mountains in Switzerland are even more beautiful but they would have to be pretty spectacular to beat this! If you ever get a chance to visit Romania, which you definitely should, I would recommend this hike over any other tourist attraction.

Becoming a local

During the hike, we had all become friends but sadly the Norwegian and English girls had to leave that evening, so I arranged to meet Camille and the Viking for some after-hike drinks. We went to Bibliotheque for some beers and then another bar where we drank some Bechrovka shots and then headed back to their hostel for homemade Palinka, an awful tasting local liquor. Needless to say, I stumbled back to my hostel very drunk, with the promise to move to their hostel, Boemia, the next day.

Despite a mild hangover, I was up early, packed my stuff and moved to Boemia hostel before the others even woke up. After being assigned a bed I had some coffee and got some work done. I was now quite settled in Brasov and had quite decided I might just live here now, so I no longer felt the need to try squeeze in lots of touristy stuff. Camille was a volunteer at the hostel along with a Kiwi girl, Jess, who I had briefly met the night before. They took turns looking after the hostel in the evenings in exchange for free food and board and so the young couple who ran it could get some time off.

Peles Castle

I had been hearing a lot about Peles Castle since I arrived, which people reported as far more beautiful than Bran Castle, so Camille, the Viking and I decided to go visit it the following day. We headed off early and took the €3 train to nearby Sinaia, a short walk from the castle. It really is far more beautiful, although quite expensive to visit if you want to see the whole thing. Just the first floor is 30 lei (€6) and for both floors, it’s double (60 lei), which seems excessive. The other two had student cards so they got half-price but I decided I couldn’t afford that much and just took a first-floor ticket.

After exploring the opulent first floor we attempted to go upstairs but they asked to check our tickets. I said I had accidentally given mine in at the door but since the other two had second-floor tickets, she assumed we were a group and let me in. Score! If you do go to Peles and can afford it, I suggest getting a ticket for both floors (or sneaking in like me) – the upstairs is far more impressive than the first floor! Annoyingly, they try to scam an extra 30 lei out of you for ‘photograph tax’, which is bullshit and I told them so. It does, however, mean you need to be very discreet when taking photos if you don’t cough it up. Fortunately, after traveling to so many supposedly ‘sacred’ sites around the world, I’m a pro at taking discreet photos.

That evening the Viking had to leave but Jess, another guest and I headed out to watch a live music event that the local council was hosting in the town square. It featured some local bands and ended off with an incredible opera singer that sounded as professional as anything I’ve seen on TV (although, I’m tone deaf so what would I know).

We took a bus up to Poiana Brasov the following morning despite mild hangovers and decided to hike up to one of the ski chalets. It wasn’t the most beautiful hike as it mostly followed a dirt road that is a skiing piste during winter. However, at the top, we discovered the pot of gold – free food and palinka! We don’t know why, but a small restaurant was giving away platters of bread, ham, cheese, and cake along with free shots of palinka, so we proceeded to get drunk before stumbling back down the mountain and almost dying. Good day.

Transfagarasan

I spent the following few days mostly working during the day and playing increasingly complex drunken card games with Camille and Jess in the evenings. The hostel (Boemia) had a nice flow of really interesting guests, many of which we got to join in with our game of figuring out, and then playing loudly, the song that was number one when they were born. This, I found, is a great way to get everyone in the hostel involved, even the commonly shy ones. I really should work in a hostel full time.

Anyway, during these days we formulated a plan to hire a car and drive up what Jeremy Clarkson once called the most beautiful road in the world – the Transfagarasan! The road was built by ex-president Ceausescu as an attempt to improve upon the already popular Transalpina, a few kilometres to the west. While it is admittedly more impressive, it is so treacherous that they need to close it every winter.

The car hire companies are a bit odd in Romania and require a minimum rental period of 2 days, so we collected the car the day before Jess and I drove up to Poiana Brasov to have some lunch. It was also good practice for me to get used to driving on the right. The next day we all woke up super early and hit the road at 7 am, along with Camille’s friend who had come to visit her for the weekend. Unfortunately, we didn’t choose the best day weather-wise but that just added to the spookiness of the Romanian countryside.

The road past Bran and around the back of the Carpathian mountains winds up and down along mountainous roads with beautiful scenery all around. It’s dotted with creepy old towns that are littered with interesting and bizarre sights, like strange sculptures and bizarre buildings. After a few hours driving, we eventually began the ascent up the south side of the Transfagarasan, where we stopped to visit another one of Dracula’s supposed castle – Poianeri. Unfortunately, it was closed due to bears, so we continued on across precariously built bridges and through small tunnels until we were winding up along the sides of a huge valley.

Suddenly I realized we were very short on fuel and the chances of finding a gas station out here were slim. The girls were freaking out but I figured as long as we get over the peak we can just free-wheel down the other side to the gas station at the bottom. We had one moment of panic when we stopped for photos and the car wouldn’t start at first but eventually, we made it to the top. Right at the very peak is a short tunnel which, when driven through, result in the most extraordinary event. On the side, we entered it was sunny and clear weather but as we broke out the other side it was practically snowing! The sky was dark with clouds, thick rain was falling and patches of snow surrounded the road. It was like going through a portal into another world.

We found somewhere to park the car amongst the throng of tourists and day-trippers and went to explore this strange landscape. Despite being mid-summer, large swathes of snow remained on the mountain, almost like a glacier. Despite this, many people were hanging around by the lake and some even went for a brief swim. The view from the top is incredible, looking down over what must be the windiest road ever built. Surprisingly, the food stalls at the top weren’t overpriced and we managed to get a decent lunch for about 15 lei (€3). One of the nicer things about Romania is that it isn’t spoilt by tourism…. yet.

Soon we needed to head down, so we all climbed back in the car and started to roll down the road with the engine off to save petrol. It made it difficult to brake and steer without mechanical assistance, especially considering the sharp corners and steep inclines, but we made it. We stopped briefly to explore a waterfall near the base of the pass and then got back on the road for the long ride home.

Personally, I find Brasov to be one of the undiscovered jewels of Eastern Europe but a friend of mine recently visited and found it boring. This highlights how unique the travel experience is for each different individual and how our perception is largely subjective. I always hope my blogs can help people to enjoy a destination better but in reality, the only way to know is to get out there and do it yourself.

As always, have a happy journey …. and never stop exploring!

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lorcleis · 7 years

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tag meme: what i’m writing

List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, art, vids, gifsets, whatever.

Tagged by: the trash monarch @sagemb

Okay so like Amy I am working on ten million things at once so I’m just going to list them in the order that they’ll probably end up done.

numero uno: corinthians, corinthians: sinking, and all corinthians-related projects

I love this fucking series with all of my heart but I’ll probably end up finishing it by the time Dwayne The Rock Johnson becomes president. Here’s an excerpt from chapter 11 of Corinthians:

“You watch your language, Valentina,” Josiah said. His voice had an underlying growl to it that betrayed a hot temper. “You raise your voice to me again and I will double your punishment. You will be shoveling waste until the cows come home.”

“That analogy doesn’t make any sense!” She shouted. Her hair flew everywhere. “We don’t even have cows!”

An excerpt from Corinthians: Sinking:

They tell the new guy about the regular, but he still fumbles through his first interaction with him, all thumbs at the cash register and stutters when he speaks.

“Lilies, right?” Jack asks. He fidgets with the ends of his apron.

“Lilies.” Dimitri nods and glances at something on his phone. He couldn’t pay less attention to Jack if he tried.

The metal tip of Jack’s prosthetic leg taps against the tile of the florist shop as he reaches into the back for the ever-present bundle of lilies reserved for their ever-present Sunday customer.

Dimitri glances down at Jack’s leg, but knows better than to ask about someone else’s war wounds. Jack notices his glance and bites his lip.

“Strigoi attack,” Jack says. He places the lilies on the counter gingerly. “They like whole limbs now, I guess.”

Dimitri grunts and Jack is suddenly away of how imposing his frame is in the tiny store. He hands Jack a set of bills and takes the lilies, leaving without another word.

An excerpt from Monarchists:

“You? You’re in class with them?” Sasha pointed towards the trio, who had moved on from braiding Norah’s hair to reading a book Loren had brought with studious sincerity.

“Astounding, I know,” Kailani said dryly. “But they can’t go it on their own. They might make up water, fire, and air, but they still need earth. Rumor has it, they’re searching for a spirit user as well, but none have turned up in this generation yet.”

As Sasha watched them from afar, Norah lifted her head from the book and made eye contact with him. She had an unscrupulous glance, but her face was so mesmerizingly beautiful it was like staring at the sun. Norah smiled, slow and cat-like. Sasha blinked, looking away in embarrassment.

“Don’t get too attached,” Kailani said, looking at Sasha’s expression. “The last one in their little group died in the spring semester. Brigitte was a bitch, but she didn’t deserve to be pulled apart by Strigoi like a rack of baby-back ribs.”

“And you?” Sasha asked.

“What about me?” Kailani answered.

“Do you think you’ll go the same way?” Sasha turned away from Norah’s group sitting on the grass, but could still feel her gaze on him.

“I like to think that I’ll go out in a more spectacular fashion. Maybe sparklers will be involved.” There was a twinkle in Kailani’s eye.

numero dos: paradise

This is half a short film and half a podcast. I have 10 million ideas running around in my head for Paradise and originally wanted to make it a mockumentary short film, but I think I can do it as a podcast as a proof of concept thing, then make that into a short film when I have the resources.

The town of Paradise is shaken by the murder of the town sweetheart, Kitty Westerfield. When an opportunistic journalism student catches wind of the conspiracies surrounding her death, she begins an investigation that might reveal more than she bargained for.

The Paradise cheer squad set up a memorial for her by her locker. It's decorated with pictures from her Instagram, Facebook, and Snapchat. Her favorite flower is a light pink rose and Laura has made sure her locker is full of them. It smells up the entire hallway; people can barely stand it. It's as if Kitty Westerfield is haunting everyone from beyond the grave.

numero tres: wardlaw gardens

This has been in my back pocket for years and years. I sort of want to start shooting scenes from it, but I’m afraid it will fall flat, you know? My original concept was a four-book series, but I’m thinking it might better suit a TV show.

It was the quiet moments right after midnight when he could finally breathe. Bruise preferred a solitary life, which was something most people never understood. So he came here, to the roof. To the only place where he could think.

He narrowed his eyes as the light flickered again, this time in another window. Someone at Wardlaw was a restless as he was.

The world held its breath.

Bruise stood, shaking the darkness of the night off of him. His cigarette was gone and Monet had disappeared, taking the lighter with him. He made a note to buy another pack from the corner store when they were let off for weekends.

“Goodnight,” Bruise said, half to the world around him and half to the light in the distance, ever-flickering.

He began walking back towards the edge of the fire escape, but turned around to take one last look at the distant outline of Wardlaw Gardens.

The manor home was stately and vast, only the main house visible from the roof of Dumfries’s east wing. All lights were off save for one on the top floor at the far end. The curtains shifted to reveal a figure that Bruise could barely make out through the darkness. He could have sworn she put a finger over her lips.

Quiet.

The bell tower in the village chimed lightly, echoing across the surrounding mountainside and breaking Bruise out of his reverie. He descended the fire escape and entered the east wing of Dumfries through a crack in the back door. It was one o’clock in the morning.

Some call the hour after midnight the witching hour.

numero quatro: stygian

Uh, I just really love PJO/HP crossovers??

numero cinque: other shit i found in my google drive

So there was a thing called The Other Few about an aged child saviour of a fantasy realm that portalled to different places and was framed for murder:

“’Hmm?’ All you have to say to that is ‘hmm?’” Walden was becoming increasingly exasperated.

“Time moves more slowly in the Other Realm,” Isa said. “Hollis and I were taken in the late 1800s, but didn’t come back until recently.”

“No thanks to you,” Hollis said.

“Will you ever let that go?” Isa asked.

“They exiled me into the 1980s,” Hollis said. “It was awful.”

“Okay, so you’re time travelers,” Walden said.

“No,” Hollis and Isa said in unison.

“So you’re aliens,” Walden replied.

“No.”

“Alright,” Walden threw his hands into the air. “I give up.”

Isa sighed. “Hollis and I were soldiers. We were chosen when we were children by people from the Other Realm to help carry out a prophecy, but because we lived in the Other Realm so long there were… side effects.”

“Like your friend here’s translucent skin and my immortality,” Hollis said.

“You get to live forever?” Walden asked.

Hollis leveled a blank stare at him. “Yeah, it’s a hoot.”

Something called Mortuaria that only had a character list???:

NARRATOR

The one who narrates.

CECIL PAIL

A calm child of fourteen years. He is very reserved and considers his words carefully before he says them. Ebenezer’s nephew.

EBENEZER CAIRO

The eccentric owner of the funeral home in town. He may be silly at times, but his beliefs are very firm and he is often closed-minded about the most ridiculous things.

CARTER LANG

The funeral home assistant to Ebenezer. He preps all of the bodies for burial. Carter bears the burden of most of the work and does it with grace and a touch of sarcasm.

CONSTANCE BAUDELAIRE

The eldest sister in the Baudelaire coven. She has had to play mother after their father died and their mother succumbed to the darkness. She is strong-willed and always ready for an argument. Constance helps protect the reapers within the funeral home.

MAGDALENA BAUDELAIRE

The middle child of the Baudelaire coven. Maggie is the soft side to everything and a social butterfly, often complimenting Constance’s rougher side.

CARYS AND IVA BAUDELAIRE

The youngest girls in the Baudelaire coven and twins. Carys is handy with potions magic but cannot seem to perform spells on her own. Iva has a wealth of power but rejects the notion of witches.

RHYS IRONS

A well-dressed demon with a Queen’s English accent. He is often dressed in fine suits and pines after Constance.

AMARINTHE KAR

The nephilim librarian and caretaker of the Historic Lindley house. Cecil’s tutor. She’s a spitfire of a woman that gets along better with the elder residents of the town than people her own age.

ADELAIDE AND BRAM PAIL

Cecil’s parents. Seafaring treasure hunters that were lost at sea after searching for the pirate ship Perroux.

THE VERY IMPORTANT MEN

Two men that send Cecil to live with his uncle, claiming to be from the government. There is something inhuman about their very dark hair and very nice suits.

TAXI DRIVER

The man who is hired by the Very Important Men to take Cecil to Ebenezer’s house.

Hell, the precursor to Paradise and definitely a short film that will win me an Oscar:

A prom queen goes missing in the small town of Hell, prompting questions about the mysterious crack in the earth that lay just outside of the city limits.

BETTI (V.O.)

Did you ever stop to think--

UP FROM BLACK

CUT TO: MAIN ROAD

Betti is riding her bike. We see the town sign.

INTERCUT: BEHIND THE HIGH SCHOOL

Betti and Theo are sharing a joint.

BETTI (cont’d)

--that our town is pretty weird?

CUT TO: AN OPEN FIELD

Betti wakes up next to the crack. Aerial shot of the crack.

THEO

Nah. It’s the suburbs.

CUT TO: VARIOUS

Kellianne Hamilton smiles widely at a bake sale. Children play in a playground. Teenagers laugh encouragingly.

Desperate grabs inside of a coat closet. The wicked glint of blood being licked off of teeth. Someone knocks someone else out with the blunt end of a knife handle.

THEO

How bad can it be?

And an amazing script for a movie called Grace Under Pressure about a girl who was cheated on by the lead singer in the band she manages, he’s kicked out, she has to babysit her sister’s genius non-binary kid for the summer, the lead singer winds up dead, and the entire band rally’s around stealing the lead singer’s ashes and sprinkling them all over America on a road trip.

I tage: @objectiveheartmuscle @gigi256 @doubtthestarsarefire and @alyssiamking

#tag meme #my writing #mine #goddamn there's a lot in here but is discovered some fuckin GEMS in my google drive

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