#i literally ate a quarter of a chocolate cake

[duckymcdoorknob]

If you don't mind me requesting a second one... 👉👈 may I please have a ribbon-decorated box containing marbled white and milk chocolate (dabi x hawks), square shape filled with almonds and lemon creme? No pressure! Thank you!!

HI FLAME THANKS FOR THE REQUEST

Yes I did them out of order. Oopsies!!

I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS THO!!! I AM ABOUT TO BULLY TF OUT OF THIS BIRDIE MAN.

This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever written and I’m SO here for it.

Big shoutout to dada @volleeball-bo for the cake idea bc my brain is but a barren field. 😭

CW UNDER THE CUT: This do have some tickles in it NGL. There is a lot of cursing, but it fits. D3ath mention. illy timed your mom jokes.

Number two, Pro Hero, Hawks. Quirk: Fierce Wings. A Rank member of the League of Villains, Dabi. Quirk: Blueflame. Two of the most dangerous and vengeful men alive, working under the same roof.

So why the hell were they dead-set on baking a birthday cake?

When Twice and Toga had happily shared their newly discovered information, the two males knew they’d somehow be sucked into the abyss. They had learned that Shigaraki’s birthday was the next day, and appointed the two to make him a cake.

Who could say no to Twice and Toga? After all, if they weren’t killing anyone, Hawks was happy.

What’s the worse that could happen?

Now in the kitchen of Hawk’s tiny apartment, the two males were arguing incessantly about the process.

“I assure you, Dabi, you HAVE to add salt into it. Everything has salt. This is a literal teaspoon, you won’t even taste it!” Hawks argued for the nth time.

“It’s salt, dumbass. Salt is going to make the cake taste, oh, you know, fucking salty?” The villain growled in reply.

If Hawks could bang his head on a wall, he would. “Dabi I swear t- FINE! Here!”

The blonde stomped over to his pantry, retrieving a sleeve of pre-packaged cookies. He opened the package, took out two cookies, and offered one to his partner. “Eat it.”

“What’d you do to it?” Dabi teased with a scoff.

“I spit on it and put poison in it, obviously.”

“Sounds delicious.”

The two ate the cookies in silence, with Hawks glaring daggers at his black-haired friend. “So?”

“So?”

“Does it taste sweet?” The winged-hero inquired.

“Yeah? Why are you asking me, Feathers?”

“Aha!” The hero chimed in triumph, snatching the sleeve off of the counter, “Look at the ingredients! Read it and weep, bitch!”

Dabi pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation as Hawks breathed down his neck. “It seems you’re actually correct for once.”

“Oh what’s this?” The blonde asked coyly, “Dabi was wrong? Wow, what a world.”

“Shut up, let’s get back to the task at hand, please.” The flame villain grumbled, returning to his position near the mixing bowl.

With a proud smile, Hawks strode to the cabinet to grab his salt container, and a set of measuring spoons. God, he was too cocky for his own good.

As Hawks was lining up to pour the salt into the teaspoon, the villain pinched his sides. The man jumped with a yelp as about a tablespoon worth of the ingredient fell into the batter.

“Oh, you dick!” Keigo was immediately on the defense, eyes ablaze with rage, “Now we have to start all over!”

“Oh no! You dropped some! What happened?” Dabi faked innocence.

“You are a quarter second away from being punted out of my goddamn window.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It fuckin’ should be.”

“Well, I don’t understand why this is such a big deal? I thought the cake needed salt? What did you do wrong?”

“Your fucking mom.” The male grumbled absentmindedly.

“That’s it!”

With a look of horror, Hawks took off from the kitchen. His socked feet bounded around his apartment, clearing corners with the help of his slippery momentum. “I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean it! It was a natural reaction!”

“I know for shit sure that you meant it, Feathers!” Dabi called in reply, hot on Hawks’ heels.

“I really didn’t! It slipped oUT-“ tripping on his own ottoman, Keigo smacked his face onto his loveseat, subsequently falling onto it.

“You fucking idiot.” Dabi said through a fit of laughter. “How do you not see the furniture that you set up yourself?”

Holding his forehead, the winged-hero stuck his tongue out. “How do you take offense to a your mom joke?”

Neither knew how it happened, but the villain’s body moved faster than his brain did. Before he knew it, the black-haired male had sat on his partner’s waist, and held his wrists over his head with one hand.

Dabi wore a menacing smile, as Hawks wore a look of terror. Was this how he died? Was he going to be killed in cold blood over a your mom joke?

Instead, he felt a single finger trace around his stomach. Not expecting the long-forgotten feeling, giggles bubbled from his throat.

“Ohoho this is rich, Birdie!” The villain teased, “As if you couldn’t get even more interesting!”

“Dabi, don’t you dare.” Hawks hissed, eyeing the wiggling fingers that dared to come in close contact with his torso. “Do not fucking t-touch me- nohohoho!”

“Aww, you’re so precious!” The villain cooed as he gently pinched at his partner’s sides.

“Dahahabihihi! Dohohohont!”

“Don’t? But this is so much more fun than baking a cake for the boss.”

“C’monohohon! Thihihis ihihisnt lihihihike yohohou!”

The black-haired male beamed at the laughing hero beneath him. Oh what a power play this was. “To put my enemy into submission? This is totally like me.” He moved his hand up to spider under Hawks’ arms.

“NGH- DAHAHABI!” Keigo’s eyes were squeezed shut, face flushed from embarrassment. He couldn’t exactly hide his face in his hands, since he was a little… trapped. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE!”

“Please what? Keep going? Move spots? Stop? You have to be very specific with what you want, Birdie.”

“IHIHI DOHOHONT KNOHOHOW!”

“You don’t know what you want? Maybe I just need to help wake your brain up!” With that, the villain brought his hand down to ever-so-gently prod at his partner’s ribcage.

“DABIDABIDABI-DAHAHAHABIHIHI! NOHOHOHO! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE! MOHOHOHOVE SPOHOHOHOTS!”

“Oh dear, Feathers, you’re so ticklish here!”

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE!”

“Am I embarrassing you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up!” Dabi chirped, adding the slightest amount more pressure.

“OKAHAHAY! OKAY OKAY! THAHAHATS ENOHOHOHOUGH!”

“Are you sure?”

“YEHEHES! PLEHEHEHEHEASE! STAHAHAHAP!”

When the magic word was uttered, Dabi released his victim instantly. “You okay, kid?”

“I… I am… I’m only a y-year… younger-“ the hero sputtered through panting breaths. “You, dick.”

“Ah, you’re back.” The villain chimed, “I didn’t kill ya’, did I?”

“Nah. Just… glad you stopped when you did.”

“Running out of stamina? Some hero you are.” Dabi scoffed.

“And your revenge tactic was to tickle the shit out of me. Some villain you are.”

With a cocky smile, the black-haired male looked fondly upon his partner. “Any last words?”

Keigo inhaled sharply, closing his eyes. He reflected on how vulnerable of a position he was in, ultimately giving up on survival. Oh well, he’s lived long enough.

With a hushed whisper, he uttered “Your mom.”

And as the winged-hero predicted, Dabi’s hand lowered back onto his ribs and showed no mercy; cake long forgotten as Hawks’ frantic laughter echoed off of the walls.

After all, no good joke shall go unpunished…

❣︎𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒’𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡❣︎

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[triscribe]

Tagged by @pumpking64​, thanks!

Share your wallpaper: I’ve never bothered swapping out the generic “abstract blue-green paint smear” image that came with my phone, but if I did it would probably be to one of my best kitten photos, aka The Scrungly Little Beast

(also the icon for my @triscribeaucollection​ sideblog)

The last song you listened to: Rooftop, by Nick Santos

Currently reading: Working my way through every Sea Beast fan fic on AO3 that catches my eye

Last Movie: The Sea Beast, on Netflix

Craving: Chocolate cake, but I shouldn’t have that for breakfast

What are you wearing right now: Soft green nightshirt, green lounge shorts I pulled on when I first got up

How tall are you: Five feet, three and three quarters inches, or ~162 centimeters for my metric system friends. Why do I specify the three quarters? Because my mom is five foot four inches, and I have been stuck at a smidge shorter than her for years. But my day will come. Maybe not this decade, maybe not the next, but sooner or later she WILL begin to shrink, and then *I* will be the one who is a quarter inch taller! Muahahaha!

...ahem. Moving on...

Piercings: None

Tattoos: Nope

Glasses? Contacts?: Negative on both

Last drink: Sweetened Peach Sparkling Water. My local grocery store sells their own brand in various flavors, eighty cents for a liter bottle. Healthier than soda, at the very least

Last show: Hogan’s Heroes - we have all six seasons on DVD, and they’re good comfort content when there isn’t anything good to watch on television

(”Colonel Hogan, I must know what is going on here!”

“Schultz, if I tell you, you could become a tremendous hero-”

“Or?”

“-shot.”

“...I hear nothing, I see nothing, I Know NO-THING!”)

Lasting thing you ate: Piece of fried chicken for dinner

Favorite color: Turquoise! Because I was the doofus as a kid who couldn’t ever pick between blue and green, so I compromised and went with both at once x’D

Current obsession: Father & son feels between Captain Crow and Jacob Holland from the Sea Beast movie

Unrelated obsession: Master & padawan feels between Tajin Crosser and Dan G’vash from the Elder episode of Star Wars Visions. Totally unrelated. Right.

Any pets: YES. So Many Pets. We’re actually at a low point right now, with only two dogs, two rabbits, seven chickens in the bathroom, and twenty eight cats of various ages (which will go down as soon as we start adopting out the eleven most recent kittens)

Do you have a crush on anyone: ...maybe.

Favorite fictional character: My own? Crant the Wolfen. Somebody else’s? Hmm... Ahsoka Tano (Star Wars), Peter Parker (Marvel), Cassandra Cain (DC), Will Treaty (Ranger’s Apprentice), Tiffany Aching (Discworld), Aizawa Shouta (bnha), Eowyn (Lord of the Rings), Bumblebee (Transformers), Brienne of Tarth (Game of Thrones), etc etc...

The last place you traveled: Florida, visiting my dad for my birthday a couple months ago

Thanks again! Tagging: @153-centimeters-of-sass​ @blackbeltkitten2​ @catboy-pentheus​ @kaiseaya​ and as always anybody else who’d like to snag a spot ;)

[theafrochick]

Bro my grandma ate literally half the pumpkin cake roll my mom bought me and a quarter of the chocolate cake we already had here today. WTAF 😭😭😭

I bet anything that was her lunch because she won't eat leftovers or make a hot meal for herself so she lives off toast and tuna sandwiches.

[illbestarryeyedforyou]

2, 9, 12, 17, 29, 32, and 49 :)

2. pepsi box blue or cheetos bag orange?

I don't drink "soft drinks" except brisk so I'll have to go with cheetos bag orange, HOWEVER, it has to be the jalapeño flavor because I don't really eat regular flavor.

9. which do you prefer, cotton candy or funnel cake?

I haven't had cotton candy since elementary when we had a fair event and I've never ever had a funnel cake before? I'm not a big candy guy? I mean I LOVE chocolate covered chewy caramel, but I consider chocolate separate from like roll ups, skittles, lollipops, etc. so I can't choose either 😐😬

12. favorite tv commercial?

I'll be honest, up until recently because of Hulu, I have not watched a commercial in nearly 10+ years so it's really difficult for me to remember one EXCEPT this one. One of my favorites ever

17. an earliest obsession you remember?

I grew up poor, but one of my early obsession was collecting those little toy soldiers from those quarter vending machines? I used to spend hours playing with the parachute one in my trailer house air conditioner which was located on the floor!! I still remember that day my mom took us to a family dollar store and introduced me to a whole box of toy soldiers that I didn't know existed!?

29. the last thing you ate?

I'm so lucky; if you would have asked me this a half hour earlier I would have ashamedly said a cherry ice cream popsicle I ate half asleep like at 4 am. I literally woke up out of the blue to go to the bathroom and then drink water, except I became a gremlin and just grabbed anything sweet to eat.

THAT BEING SAID - last thing I ate was a handful of grapes.

32. do you write better with a pen or a pencil?

Pen because the margin of error is more vital!! My handwriting is still crap though so there's not really a big difference in between pen and pencil when it comes to THAT haha 😅

49. what scents do you like?

I'm all about sweet scents. Mahogany Coconut, flowers and desserts freshly baked in the oven are the only three I can think of as examples?

thank you so much for the asks!?! these were fun to answer!!

please feel free to ask me something weird!

[tummyrights]

IM.......IN THE LAST TWO HOURS ATE TWO HOT DOGS, TWO PIECES OF CAKE, TWO CANS OF COKE, AND A QUARTER GALLON OF CHOCOLATE MILK.......I feel so full I can literally feel everything sloshing around in my stomach, I can feel everything wobble when I move, it’s heavier than ever

[loyalflutist]

Cake (F!Byleth x Edelgard)

Challenge: Edeleth Twitter Week (09/29/2019 - 10/05/2019)  Day 4: Cake

A/N: Singing praises to Lysithea for she kick-started this entire event for Byleth and Edeleth. 

---

Edelgard has always liked sweets. Though her past was riddled with plenty of misfortunes and tragedy, the one thing that never eroded away was her love for these tasty treats.

Oh, how much her eyes lit up at the sight of cakes! Teatime was a frequent activity between her and Lysithea. Every week, the two would spare an hour or so to indulge in the sugary content. Their palates were delighted by the fluffy texture. Their appetite sated by the burst of flavors. Their sight appeased by colorful decorations. Cake was and still is mankind’s best creation.

“…”

Byleth crossed her arms. She stared intensely at the oven in isolation within the open kitchen. Adorned over her usual mercenary attire is a white apron; splotches of pink and yellow tainted the pristine fabrics. As students were settling in for the night, so did the staff from the cafeteria. The eatery was empty, save it for the few soldiers and guards during their night shifts. That meant it was free for usage so long as one cleans up after themselves. This professor took advantage of the scarce opportunity.

“…”

Her navy hues never once left the heated equipment.

“Let’s hope you didn’t add salt in this time.”

Sothis floated nearby. She plopped her arms on Byleth’s head as if she were a table, then rested her chin on the disheveled hair. The teal-haired resisted the urge to swat her away. She opted to remain silent, the only response being a sigh.

…she didn’t add salt, right?

Her index finger that began to tap on her exposed arm hastened. Byleth moistened her lower lip, and she gulped in hopes of eliminating the sudden dryness of her throat. She shifted her gaze elsewhere as beads of sweat flew out of her head. The confidence that once possessed the professor began to melt into a sticky pile of uncertainty. (Thanks, Sothis!)

“Hm? What’s with that worried expression?” The green-haired remarked once again, this time peering down at her host. Not even two seconds ticked by until it clicked in her head. A faint smirk formed on her lips as Sothis returned to her resting posture. She closed her eyelids and stifled a yawn. “I’m certain you did not make the same mistake. I checked the content this time around.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“I had to. Otherwise, you would’ve panicked.”

“I would not.”

“Your body doesn’t agree.”

“…”

“Dear child… I’m sure your Edelgard would be disappointed if you gifted her with an atrocious-tasting cake.” Sothis exhaled loudly and, while floating, nestled onto Byleth as if she were a pillow. “I wouldn’t want that to happen to you.”

She wasn’t wrong about that. If anything, Byleth had no choice but to succeed. Failure is not an option.

One might also wonder why this stoic professor would spend her quiet night making a cake. The funding provided by the Church was plenty enough to purchase one at the bakery. Time and energy would be saved in the process, and a delicious cake still waits for their owners at the end of the day. Edelgard had always bought her sweets. What difference will that make?

Well… she overhead Lysithea and Ferdinand about Edelgard’s strong liking towards sweets. Their private teatime parties would always consist of these delicacies; the young noble’s likes also extended towards cakes. Normally, Byleth would leave the two to be. Lest to say an exchange perked her ears one fateful night during her patrol.

“Lady Edelgard, has anyone ever baked you something?”

“Not yet.”

“What a shame… Perhaps you should ask Dorothea to make you some.”

“I prefer not to bother her with these requests.”

“I see. How about the Professor? I think she’s capable of it.”

“By— Teacher? O-Oh, I’m not too sure about that…”

“Why not?”

“She might be too busy to bake something for us.”

“The future is unpredictable. It might be too early to make that conclusion.”

“I can only hope so…”

The way Lysithea guided their conversation almost made it seem as if she purposely hinted at the professor— Actually, she was. Lysithea was always perceptive to her surroundings. Edelgard may have not noticed Byleth’s presence as her back was facing the doorway, but the other white-haired sensed her beyond the partially opened door. A faint smile scrawled her features as she tipped the teacup to her lips.

“You should place more faith in your girlfriend, Lady Edelgard.”

“G-Girlfriend!?”

“Why are you acting like I just blew your cover?”

“Well— I… Um… That’s… it’s just… embarrass… ing…”

“Hoh~ What a rarity to see you flustered.”

“Lysithea, I will take away your sweets if you say any more.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t tease.”

“Good—”

“Though you should seriously place more faith in the Professor. Don’t forget to invite me too!”

With newfound knowledge of her girlfriend’s interest, the instructor decided to make her next weekly gift for the student a bit different: making the cake from scratch on her own.

However… a couple of problems reared its head into this ambitious project.

There was the issue of her inept bakery skills. She could cook heartful meals, and she could improvise on the spot when it came to breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But dessert? Byleth never ate many sweets as being a mercenary provided very little chance to do so, but she expected it to taste like heaven based on Edelgard’s and Lysithea’s fixation to the treat.

Ingredients were purchased from the market, and some ingredients forced the professor to scour villages and towns outside of the monastery’s wall on her own. She engaged in haggles and arguments over rare items required for the baking process. The equipment was provided upon request by the staff, but no one had time to teach Byleth how to bake. Those who were free to mentor were not exactly the sort of person one would go to for advice.

Jeralt was the worst one of them all.

“I don’t know, kiddo. I know nobles love chocolate, so why not throw them into the batter? I’m not sure if you need to melt them or not… but give it a try.”

“…”

That didn’t work at all. Rather, that advice, accompanied by her amateur skillsets, nearly burnt down the cafeteria! Sothis combination of scolding and laughter echoed in Byleth’s skull as she and the Gatekeeper furiously dumped water onto the smoking oven. Had it not been for the kind soul who had worked that day’s night shift, the fire would have spread towards the other appliances. Rhea and Seteth— especially Seteth— would not be happy if they were to catch news of her wild nightly adventures at the monastery’s kitchen!

“Professor, please be more careful!” he shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt!”

The two eventually chuckled it off. It was a little too comical not to find it amusing. Though it was a little difficult to hide the incident from Edelgard. Byleth would always beat around the bush and scamper away once this particular topic arises. Lysithea, Claude, and Mercedes did their best to distract Edelgard from wringing the truth from Byleth. They dragged her around the monastery with useless tasks. Some offered teatime parties. There was also the training ground and seminars hosted by other knights and teachers. They did everything in their power to keep her away from the professor and the kitchen at night. At least until the cake has been properly made.

“…”

The present time ex-mercenary knelt. While Sothis took a small nap overhead, Byleth cracked open the oven’s lid. A puff of steam blew onto her face as a result. She shook off the heat and, with oven mittens, pulled out the baked good.

“!”

The cake…

Its fluffiness…

Its texture…

Its color…

It was a success! Compared to the first few times earlier this week… this one upheld its shape and retained the flavoring she had instilled into the product. Imaginary musical notes bounced off from her head as she placed the finished product onto the counter. Now it was time for the creams and toppings. Byleth shifted her attention over to the sliced strawberries and white cream. The mittens came off, her hands were washed, and the decorations commenced.

Time dashed forward as the professor was kept busy in the kitchen. By the time she was finished, the sun had already risen from the distant. One well-known rooster cried out on the cafeteria’s rooftop to signal the early morning. Guards and soldiers that were on night shift huddled back to their quarters without hesitation; their replacements immediately arrived in conjunction with their leave. The new day was a weekend, but for Byleth, it had dawned upon her that she literally stayed up 24 hours to make this cake happen.

“Don’t you want to get some sleep?”

“No.”

This is worrisome. Dark shadows were prominent under her eyes, yet she refused to crawl into her mattress

“Oh dear…” Sothis immediately reached out to ruffle with Byleth’s hair. “You did a good job, though. I’m proud of you, Byleth.”

Hearing praise from the usually critical Sothis… she flashed a weary grin at the floating girl. That gave an extra dose of energy to mechanically operate for the morning. Byleth placed both hands on her hips, her sparkling hues observing the piece of fine work she had created. A couple of kitchen staff and chefs coming in for their morning shift too observed the cake. One of them whistled.

“You made this? Good job, Professor.”

The end product was a strawberry cake. It stood proudly on the counter with ease. All that hard work was worth it. Byleth yawned loudly as she wobbled on her feet. Though it did not come without a price. The effort she placed on this dessert was exchanged with her rest. She blinked a few times.

How was she going to bring this to Edelgard? Should she call for her? If she was going to deliver it, would it be possible to deliver it? What if she drops it? Or worst, what if the heat from outside turns this beautiful art into a pile of gooey flavors?

She shuddered at the thought. That would be a nightmare. Imagine the fright Edelgard would have upon seeing the discombobulated cake! She might as well deliver it during the time of Halloween!

“My, you’re up early.”

Fortunately for the professor, that horror was never going to be a reality. Edelgard had arrived at the cafeteria bright and early for breakfast. On weekdays, weekends, she was always on time for her meals. What she did not expect was to bump into her professor this early in the day. (Byleth tends to sleep in during weekends.) The white-haired adjusted her uniform’s collar as her eyes darted between the older woman and the recently made cake. She narrowed her eyes. Then, those lilac hues widened.

“Byleth… did you stay up all night to make a cake…?”

“Yes.”

Despite the fatigue that plagued the older woman, she motioned towards the sweet treat; a twinkle shining from the corner of her eye.

“It’s for you.”

“You… did you really do this for me?”

“Yes.”

“Lysithea was right…” Edelgard covered her mouth, her cheeks becoming rosy. “It was right of me to place my faith in you.”

“Did you say something?”

She shook her head. Then, she grabbed ahold of Byleth’s hands and crashed her lips into the older woman’s. Byleth nearly melted into a pile of goo herself once Edelgard pulled away. Excitement lit up like fireworks behind her lilac hues.

“Thank you, Byleth, thank you!”

Suffice to say, Edelgard chomped on the dessert with delight for the morning. Gorging on it was something of a sight to see for the lucky early risers. (It appears the concept of moderation does not exist for Edelgard when it comes to sweets…) Ferdinand and Hubert did complain about the abrupt change of dieting for today, and Lysithea threw a small tantrum with the lack of invitation from Byleth. Not that it mattered to the two. Byleth reveled in her results and Edelgard basked in the results.

Shortly afterward…

“Byleth.”

“Yes?”

“I think you should have some dessert too.”

“I’m not much of a sweets person— El… What are you doing?”

“I didn’t say your dessert had to be another cake.”

“…”

She certainly received a dessert of her own; it was a “cake” that she could still taste to this day.

[pikapeppa]

Abelas/Lavellan smut: Ma’av’in

An older piece that I never posted on Tumblr! 

Ma’av’in: an elvhen term, from @fenxshiral​, that literally means ‘my mouth’, but is also a very personal and slightly sexual endearment meaning “I love and desire you so much that my mouth tastes like yours,” but also “we understand each other on such a personal level that you could talk for me”.

In which Athera Lavellan and Abelas sneak into the kitchen for some cake and run into Solas, who is doing the same thing. Oh, elves with a sweet tooth.

Read on AO3 instead. 

************************

Athera poked her head cautiously into Skyhold’s kitchen. “Hello?” she called softly.

When no one replied, she relaxed and turned to Abelas with a smile. “It’s clear. Everyone’s gone to bed.” She scurried into the kitchen and made a beeline for the large icebox that held the leftover sweets.

Abelas followed her at a more decorous pace. As Athera opened the icebox and poked around, he studied the icebox itself with clear disapproval. “This cooling spell is inefficient,” he said. “The magic is slowly dissipating. It will need to be recast in less than a year.” He frowned at her. “Who was the spellcaster here? Someone on your staff is in dire need of training.”

Athera shot him an exasperated look. “Who cares about the icebox? Look at what’s inside!” She enthusiastically pulled out a platter, then removed its metal lid with a flourish to reveal a selection of bite-sized desserts.

Abelas’s disapproval melted into a tiny smile, and Athera’s cheeks warmed with pleasure at having wiped away his frown. She happily set the platter on the table. “Those cakes I gave you were the first kind of Orlesian dessert I tried when I first started hanging out with humans,” she said eagerly. “They all have funny names.” She pointed to each of the desserts in turn. “This is a macaron. Chocolate-raspberry, it looks like, and this one is… a blackberry macaron, maybe? This cake is called ‘le coup de grâce’. It’s made with a lot of brandy - they’ll actually make you drunk if you eat enough of them. This one is ‘la langue fourchue’ - I think it contains dragonthorn, it’s weirdly spicy - and this one is ‘la belle rose’. It’s made with rosewater. That’s what Josie said, at least.”

Abelas listened carefully as she named the various cakes. Then he selected a small square cake with pink fondant icing and a tiny flower on top.

Athera wilted slightly in disappointment; the cake he’d picked was the same kind she’d given to him when he first arrived at Skyhold. “You don’t want to try something new?” she asked. “You’ve had that kind already.”

He settled his gilded gaze on her face. “I am fond of this kind. They remind me of you.”

The tips of Athera’s ears suddenly felt hot. She bit the inside of her cheek to hide her stupid grin, then selected a rosewater cake for herself. “Well, I guess that’s all right then.” She lifted her cake and gently touched it to his. “Cheers.”

“On’enansal,” he murmured, and Athera smiled and popped the whole cake into her mouth.

Abelas, on the other hand, took a small bite of his cake. Athera covered her full mouth self-consciously while she chewed, feeling boorish compared to her lover’s dignified munching.

He studied the cake as he chewed. “What is the name of this confection?”

Athera swallowed hastily. “It’s called ‘la petite bise’. Leliana said it means ‘the little kiss’.” She leaned back against the table as she watched Abelas enjoy his cake. “It’s named after this weird thing the Orlesians do. They kiss each other on the cheeks as a greeting. They even do it to people they’ve only just met.” She remembered the first time someone had greeted her this way; it was one of Josie’s contacts from Val Royeaux, Madame la Marquise of Something-Or-Other, and Athera was shocked when the woman leaned in to bump her cheekbones against Athera’s face. She was still grateful that her surprise had made her freeze like a rabbit instead of flinching away from the Marquise; she didn’t want to imagine the kind of unintentional offence a flinch would have caused.

Abelas’s gaze slid from the cake back to her face. “The little kiss, you say?”

His eyes dropped to her mouth, and Athera bit her lip coquettishly. “Yes,” she confirmed.

He swallowed his tiny bite of cake, then tilted his head thoughtfully. “I would like a demonstration of this strange custom.”

His face was serious, but his golden eyes were warm and playful, and Athera grinned. “All right,” she said. She took a step closer to him and placed her hands on his shoulders, then lifted herself onto her tiptoes and leaned in to graze his sharp right cheekbone with a kiss.

He turned his head at the last second and met her lips with his own.

Athera smiled against his mouth, then wrapped her arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss. His sculpted lips gently coaxed hers apart, and Athera released a shivery little sigh as he lightly nipped her lower lip with teeth.

His unoccupied hand curved around her waist, then up along her back to pull her flush to his body, and Athera happily pressed herself against his chest. He tasted sweet and fruity, a warm reflection of the cake in his hand, and she shamelessly savoured the smooth feel of his tongue caressing her own, the exciting feel of his hard and muscular thigh sliding between her legs-

“Oh,” a surprised voice said, and Athera sprang away from Abelas as the mild-mannered voice continued. “My apologies. I, er, I did not think anyone else would be here.”

“Solas!” Athera gasped. She covered her burning cheeks with her hands and stared at the apostate in complete mortification. The pinkness of his cheeks was evident even in the warm orange light of the hearthfire, and Athera couldn’t decide if she was more or less horrified to find him looking as embarrassed as she felt.

She glanced up at Abelas, and was further ashamed to see him looking as discomfited as Solas. Desperate to smooth over the awkward moment, she focused on Solas again. “What, er, what brings you to the kitchen?” she stammered.

Solas cleared his throat. “I believe the same thing that brought you here,” he said, then gestured at the platter of desserts on the table. “An insatiable taste for all things sweet.”  

At his words, the thought of Abelas’s sugar-laced tongue in her mouth flashed through her mind, and Athera cringed as her face became even hotter.

Fortunately, Abelas seemed to have recovered his aplomb. Unfortunately, his aplomb was far too polite for Athera’s liking. “Please, join us,” the Sentinel said, then gestured to the platter of sweets.

Solas shot her a quick glance, and Athera’s face and shoulders performed some kind of strange combination of grimace-and-shrug. Solas slowly made his way into the kitchen. “Thank you,” he said with a gracious nod to Abelas, then selected a small cylindrical cake enrobed in dark gray fondant and painted with intricate red curlicues.

Solas took a delicate bite of cake, and Athera watched the two men with increasing discomfort as they ate their cakes in excruciating silence. She twisted her fingers together as she desperately cast around for something to say.

“How about the paint job on that, huh?” she finally said with a nod to the elaborate swirls on Solas’s little cake. “Must take a long time to paint each one. No wonder they’re so expensive.”

“Yes, it is its own form of artistry, is it not?” Solas replied eagerly, clearly relieved that she’d broken the silence. “I must admit that this particular kind is my favourite. Do you happen to recall what it is called?”

Athera narrowed her eyes. “That’s the one with the slightly bitter filling, right? I think it’s called ’le souffle du loup.’ It means ‘breath of the wolf’.”

Solas suddenly went still, and Abelas coughed loudly. Athera turned to him in alarm as he continued to cough into his hand. “Are you okay? You’re not choking, are you?”

“He is fine,” Solas said hastily, then patted the coughing Sentinel on the back in an oddly fraternal manner. “Perhaps I will leave you in peace. It was not my intention to interrupt. Not that you were doing anything that - I mean, that is -”

“No, you stay,” Abelas rasped. “Please. I insist. The Inquisitor and I will go elsewhere. It would not do for us to, er - that is, we will take ourselves to a more private, er…”

Solas’s cheeks reddened further, and Athera wondered wistfully if she could just melt into the floor right now. “Yes, perhaps that would be wise,” Solas replied weakly, and Abelas nodded brusquely before taking her hand and tugging her toward the door.

Athera glanced over her shoulder at her apostate friend. “Sorry,” she squeaked. Then Abelas pulled her out of the kitchen.

The Sentinel whispered a quiet word in Elvhen, and goosebumps ran down Athera’s arms as his fade-cloak spell settled over them both. “Come,” he muttered, and he laced his fingers with hers as he led her back up the stairs.

The further they got from the kitchen, the more her humiliation began to melt into humour. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing as they traversed the Great Hall. By the time she had unlocked the door that led up to her quarters, her shoulders were shaking with suppressed mirth.

She opened the door and let Abelas in before her, then closed the door behind them both and slumped back against the wall, her hands clapped over her mouth to prevent an outburst of glee.

“Dread Wolf take me, that was horrible,” she wheezed. “It’s like being caught in the act by an older brother. Oh gods.” Then she finally broke into a storm of nervous laughter.

A reluctant little smile lifted Abelas’s cheeks as she continued to helplessly laugh. “I can see how it would feel that way,” he murmured. He slowly stepped close and brushed his thumb over her smiling lower lip. “We should be quiet now,” he whispered. “I do not think you want to wake the rest of the castle.”

Her laughter hitched in her throat as his knee brushed against her thighs, and her amusement slowly faded and deepened into the foiled desire that had begun to brew in the kitchen. “Maybe you need to find a way to keep me quiet,” she breathed.

She watched with interest as he inhaled deeply, then smiled more broadly at her. “Veraisa,” he whispered. Then he slanted his mouth over hers.

She parted her lips instantly, granting access to his delicious tongue. He still tasted of fondant, a hint of fruit and sugar, and Athera eagerly suckled his tongue as though to steal his sweetness for herself.

Abelas groaned against her lips and pressed his knee between her legs. She gasped and released his tongue as the hardness of his leg rode against the vee of her thighs, sending a shock of sensation from her groin up to her nipples and throat.

His hands were suddenly cradling her neck, his fingers cupping the back of her skull as he stole her breath with another kiss. Athera wrapped her arms around his lean body, pressing her chest against him and spreading her legs more widely to welcome the muscular bulk of his thigh. He delved his tongue into her mouth, and with every lap of his tongue and every gentle pull of his lips against her own, her desire surged like the eager rising of high tide.

Finally Abelas broke their kiss to gasp against her cheekbone, his fingers still tight in her hair. He breathed hard for a moment, the heat of his lustful breaths sending a delicious shiver down her spine. Abruptly he lifted her chin with his fingers and kissed her hard once more, then knelt at her feet.

A mewl of desperate want escaped her lips, and she slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle herself as Abelas slid his hands under her nightshift and peeled her smallclothes down to her ankles. “If this is your idea for keeping me quiet, I’ll have you know it’s a terrible idea,” she whimpered.

Abelas shot her a quick look, and the intensity of his expression stopped her breath again. “Solas was right,” he told her. “I hunger for something sweet. But it is not some mere shemlen confection that I want.” Without further ado, he gathered the fabric of her cotton shift in his fists and pinned her skirts to the wall, then slicked his tongue between her legs.

Heat and pleasure rippled through her blood at the sleek stroke of his tongue. Athera took a shuddering breath and fisted one hand in her hair, then bit the back of her other hand as Abelas diligently stroked her plump folds with his full lower lip before sliding his tongue over the swollen button of her clit.

Her hot breath ghosted across the back of her hand as Abelas continued to work his talented mouth at the apex of her thighs. The lapping of his tongue was voracious yet tender, very much as though he was savouring a favoured treat, and Athera’s thighs began to tremble with the strain of holding herself upright as he stroked his tongue along the length of her cleft, caressed her clit with his lower lip, drank in every drop of her heated arousal from her exquisitely sensitive folds-

She gasped in a faltering breath, then muffled her pleasure against the back of her hand as Abelas brought her to a scintillating peak. Her fingers were twisted painfully in her hair, her teeth pressing ruthlessly into the skin of her hand, but she was numb to it all, numb to anything but the blissful feel of her lover’s tongue between her legs.

Finally Abelas rose to his feet and wrapped her in a tight embrace, his body hard against her own as he kissed her. His lips held the perfume of her own arousal, tangible and earthy evidence of his carnal devotion, and the familiar musky scent drove her desire to a fever pitch.

Her fingers clutched his arms convulsively; she was internally at war, mired in the dual desires to have him right now and to have him as freely and loudly as she liked. Finally she pushed him away, only to tug him toward the stairs up to her bedroom. “I can’t keep up this quiet thing. Let’s hurry,” she urged.

He huffed with amusement as he followed her hasty steps up the stairs. “I admire your discipline,” he said.

She stopped on the first landing, then pulled her shift over her head and flung it to the floor. She shoved her long dark hair back, then faced him boldly. “Trust me, my discipline is hanging by a thread,” she said bluntly, then turned on her heel and ran up the stairs.

Abelas caught her on the second landing. She gasped as he penned her against the wall, his hands cradling her neck as he pressed his forehead to hers. “As is mine,” he breathed. “I want for you so strongly, and it… it is not enough.”

“What’s not enough?” she asked breathily, her fingers digging into his arms.

“Everything,” he replied instantly. “Every moment. Your skin, your taste, your voice. Every moment we spend together until… until the time comes. It will never be enough.”

Athera closed her eyes to block out the reminder of his eventual departure. She knew ecactly how he felt, and it was so incredibly bitter.

She shook her head, then gently pushed him away. She wrenched open the door to her bedroom, then she strode up the final set of stairs and waited impatiently until Abelas drew level with her. Then she flung herself at him in a storm of longing and lust.

He grabbed her naked body, lifting her and wrapping her legs around his waist. She gripped the back of his neck and stared desperately into his eyes as he walked them toward the bed. “Abelas,” she pleaded. “I… maybe I shouldn’t say this, I don’t want you to think poorly of me, but… You make me want to throw this all away. I can’t do that, I know I can’t, and I know you can’t either. But it’s my imagination, it’s a fantasy or an amazing dream or something, and I just…” She gulped in a breath and stroked his face. “I hope you don’t think less of me. I just-”

“No,” he interrupted. Then Athera’s breath left her in a rush as they tumbled onto the bed, his reassuring weight between her legs.

“I understand how you feel,” Abelas breathed. “I…” He pressed his lips together in a seeming struggle for words. “Ma’av’in,” he finally blurted. “This is the only term I can think of. I do not know the word in your language for this. Just know that I feel as you do.” He stroked her cheekbones with his thumbs. “I see this dream, just as you do.”

A scalding tear wended its way down her cheek, and she gasped in a tiny sob as he wiped it away with his thumb. “No more talking,” she begged. “No more, please. Just…” She trailed off and tugged futilely at his strange ancient armour.

He swiftly responded to her wordless command, sliding off the bed and shedding his armour with practiced ease. When he settled himself between her legs again, Athera didn’t hesitate; hesitation left room for words and heartache, and she couldn’t have that right now.

She reached between his legs and grasped his cock, then slid his length against her cleft to spread her heat across him. Abelas hissed in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening in her hair as he rocked against her slick folds; then, with a quick shifting of his hips, he sheathed himself inside of her.

He moaned longingly against her neck, and Athera mewled in kind, a long and pleading keen of pleasure as she savoured the perfect pressure of his cock. He moved against her in a slow and sinuous thrust and she happily arched into him, her hips a perfect cradle to meet the confident curving of his hips.

Within seconds, she and Abelas were moving together in perfect harmony. His palms were hot against her own as he pressed her hands into the bed, her fingers laced and clenching against his own as she lifted her hips to meet his every careful thrust. Even their breathing was synced: they gasped with need as he withdrew, then burst out an exhale as he tenderly delved back into her heat. His cock was utter bliss, the perfect length of steel to fill her up and stroke the pleasure from her core.

When he began to increase his pace, his fingers tightening in her own and his face twisting with rapture, Athera eagerly met and matched him, the hardness of his thrusts wringing her nerves beautifully raw. “Kiss me when you come,” she begged. “Abelas, please-”

“Yes,” he gasped, his hips pistoning into her with passionate zeal until he finally groaned and captured her mouth in a ferocious kiss. He thrust his tongue into her mouth while thrusting his cock as deep as he could reach, and Athera wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging tightly to his lean muscled shoulders as he shuddered in completion in her arms.

He pressed his cheek to hers as he grew still, but his fingers remained clenched between her own, and an overwhelming burst of tenderness bloomed in her chest as he braised the pointed line of her ear with gentle kisses. This perfection couldn’t last, and she knew it; they were doomed to end, and that fate was far too close for her liking. But this ancient warrior filled her heart as readily as his cock filled her body, and she was suddenly desperate to tell him so.

I love you, she thought with a heartwrenching burst of longing. She wanted to say it, it was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t shake the sense that saying it would only hurt them more.

Then Abelas spoke against her ear. “Ma’av’in, ma vhenan,” he whispered. “I cannot explain it better than this, but I promise you, I feel as you do.”

Athera swallowed hard, then hugged him closer. He might as well have been reading her mind. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll take your word for it.”

[sarareynolds]

Random Questions Part 1

1. What is your middle name?

Rose

2. Do you have any nicknames that aren’t derived from your actual name?

My dad calls me bug. Pretty much everyone else calls me Sara. Nik sometimes calls me dove. :) 

3. Do you have any allergies?

Nope. 

4. What is the longest your hair has ever been?

I don't even know I measured it in high school once and it was 22 inches… it's longer now. 

5. How well can you write in cursive?

Not very? My handwriting is the bastard child of standard and. Cursive.

6. Name one item on your bucket list.

I don't have a specific bucket list laid out in my head, I just know I want to soak up what the world has to offer like a greedy little sponge. So I guess travel? 

7. Have you ever been on a blind date?

I have not. 

8. What is the oldest piece of clothing you still wear and how old is it?

I have a black sweatshirt from when I was like 13. It's got holes from bad laundry cycles and just being old af but it's still comfy so I keep it. 

9. How often do you eat out at a fancy restaurant?

Not often, actually. 

10. How grammatically correct are you when you text?

More than most but it's still terrible grammar. 

11. Can you drive stick?

Yes?

12. What foreign country would you most like to visit and why?

Probably, Japan. It just looks like a friggin good time. Pokemon is a legit weakness I have and I would love to play real life Mario Kart. Outside of the Nintendo stuff the food looks amazing and the sites look beautiful. It's so different from everything I know it just seems like it's be an epic trip to have.

13. Nutella or peanut butter?

Both? You cannot have Nutella on everything it's way too sweet but peanut butter is also not really a go-to for me. 

14. At what age did you have your first kiss?

12 or 13?

15. DC or Marvel?

Unaligned? 

16. Have you ever hosted a wild party?

Yes. For better or worse, I have. 

17. Name/author of the last book you read cover to cover. Do you recommend it?

Um… I honestly don't know. I am the queen of starting a book, getting a quarter to half way in and never picking it up again because I moved onto another book. 

18. How many of your Facebook friends do you actually hang with?

I actually dislike Facebook like a lot. Do not use it.

19. Have you ever donated blood?

I have. Once. 

20. From 1-10, how much do you like decorating for holidays?

What holidays? Because generally it's a 1, I don't care, but if we're talking Halloween if I'm given half the chance I will go ham. Christmas gets second place because it's Christmas and it requires decor.

21. Coffee or tea?

Again: unaligned. I tend to have coffee in the morning and tea in the afternoon as a detox/pickup moment. 

22. What is your go-to Starbucks drink?

Venti Cold brew lite ice. Nitro cold brew has been finding its way in more than usual lately. Or a Venti iced tea/refresher. Simple and on ice is the go to for the most part.

23. Last show you binge watched?

Nailed it…. Stranger Things 3 is next.

24. Dogs or cats?

Neutral? I love dogs, they're so lovable but I have no issue with cats, I've found that if you don't care about them, they're pretty much going to leave you alone. If you love them: they don't like you, and if you hate them: they are all up on you. Cat 101 

25. Favorite animated Disney character?

Ariel. 

26. Have you ever cooked a big family meal by yourself?

Hahaha no. Omg that'd be terrible. I'd have to formally apologize to everyone who ate the food. 

27. Favorite winter activity?

Sitting inside by the fireplace curled up in a sweater just watching the flames with a tea. 

If we have to go outdoors, sledding is super fun. 

28. Have you ever butt dialed anyone?

In general, as a woman, I don't have butt pockets large enough to facilitate that problem. I have, however, boob dialed people. Which is worse, I think. 

29. Can you blow a bubble gum bubble?

I can but in general I try to stay away from gum. 

30. How early in the year do you start celebrating Christmas?

I do not do anything until the first of December. I do not like that Halloween goes away and Christmas is everywhere, but more accurately I probably don't really start until the second week of December. 

31. What emoji best describes your life right now?

😍🥰🤯🌎🎶♥️

32. Are you fluent in more than one language?

No, I am not. 

33. What is the longest you’ve ever kept a New Year’s resolution?

Last year I went ⅔ of the year before I gave up. 

34. Have you ever successfully been on a diet?

 Did you gain any of the weight back?

I am constantly in flux when it comes to weight, but in general I keep to my diet pretty well. I don't really keep to one thing and I'm not afraid to have cake if I want to, but trying to keep things balanced is always a goal. 

35. Are any of your grandparents still alive?

Yes, my grandparents on my dad's side are still in Seattle but I never really get to see them. 

36. How good are you at communicating through facial expressions? 

I give everything away with my facial expressions. EVERYTHING. Literally, no poker face on me.

37. Have you ever gotten a commercial jingle stuck in your head?

All the time. As a kid I would sing the jingles like they were the songs on the radio. Now I just do that in my head. Well, mostly.

38. Have you ever left a movie theater before the movie was over?

No, I haven't. 

39. Do you consider rapping singing?

No, rapping is rapping. It's still music but it's not singing. That's not to say a rapper can't sing, because most can and do, it's just different. 

40. Does your home have a fireplace?

It does. 

41. Favorite non-chocolate candy?

Skittles

42. If you could have only one superpower, what would you want and why?

I don't know. :/ Most super power things I can find some way to accomplish with magic. So I guess I technically already have a super power. But if I didn't, maybe fly? 

43. Have you ever locked your keys in your car?

No, I have not as I do not own a car. 

44. Do you listen to any religious music?

Not really. I can appreciate a good gospel song, though, I just don't seek it out. 

45. Do you drink soda? If so, which one is your favorite?

Not really but my go too is Dr. Pepper if I do indulge. 

46. What was your ACT score?

I never took that test. 

47. Rice or quinoa?

Rice.

48. From 1-10, how good of a driver do you consider yourself?

7? I don't drive often but I'm not going to kill anyone doing it. 

49. Do you like horror movies?

I do. 

50. How easily do you cry?

Not easily. It takes a bit to make me cry. 

[femmedplume]

Bastille @ the Wiltern (aka How Dan Smith Kissed Me)

Okay friends, strap in, this is gonna be a ride -- partially because I’s super excited, and partially because this is my ONE CHANCE to get revenge for the millions of SPN Con breakdowns I’ve had to read over the years, lol. ((BUT, because I am a nice nice Stitch, I shall put a read more break and you can scroll to the bottom if all you want to read is the kiss part lol.))

To start off, dis me and mah buddy Mikey ( @gnaist​) 

We have known each other since fucking JUNIOR HIGH, and (as I told him last night,) there are v v few people I enjoy enough to tolerate them for over twenty years, let alone still actively want to see them. Dis guy? He dat guy. :) And he also puts up with me with minimal complaining. 

Mikey and I share a birthday week, and we usually do something together (just us) during September to celebrate. This year, he was sweet enough to agree that our Birthday Shenanigans™ should take place at the ONE gig Bastille’s playing in LA -- not because he's a fan, but because I am. #FriendshipGoals

So first, I got all dolled up, with fancy pink and purple hair and Bastille-themed nails:

(That’s 00:15 for their song Quarter Past Midnight, a ∆ , and a letter for each member of the band: Charlie (guitar), Woody (drums), Will (bass), Kyle (keyboards), and Dan (lead singer))

Then, I drove to Mikey’s and gave him his half of our newest tradition: Birthday Socks!! One for me and one for him. 

We had dinner at this awesome patisserie close to Mikey’s awesome new place (shoutout to him for Adulting and buying his first condo!) We also got cake because Birthday Shenanigans™.

The food was super tasty, and the cakes were CHOCOLATE AF (don’t talk to me about my allergies, okay? Is mah BIRTHDAY)

We were running late, so we actually ate in the Lyft (the driver was nice enough to let us, and we were careful not to spill.) We got to the Wiltern at 7pm, JUST as they started letting people in.

Once we got in, we got overpriced (but very tasty) drinkies (Birthday Shenanigans™)

And then Mikey informed me that if we were going to a concert, we were getting merch. (Mikey is v v wise and a literal doctor, so I 100% believe anything he tells me.) We got shirts!

He got a cute Quarter Past Midnight shirt (that was also unusually soft and high quality,) and I got the tie-dye one that’s based off Dan Smith’s actual shirt. I’mma cut up the collar like I do with all my shirts because I hate t-shirt collars.

Then we went inside the actual theatre, which is an Art Deco beauty. They’d taken out all the seats, but the orchestra section has many shallow levels/risers, and people could basically choose which section they wanted to stand in. There was a bar INSIDE the theatre. The lighting was too low for good pics, but you can sorta see in this:

The very front pit and center section were filled with people who hadn’t sauntered in four hours late with chocolate mousse cake -- but there was space off to the right where we could stand and only two people were in front of us. YAY!

Then we waited. And waited. AND WAITED LIKE WTF PEOPLE?? I figure the Wiltern wants to give people time to buy drinks and stuff, but two HOURS???

Finally, about 9pm, the support act came on: a female singer named Fletcher? Anyone heard of her? Anyway, she was really good, had a gorgeous voice -- although we couldn’t understand what she was singing, but that was more because of the mic set up. 

(Das her. V petite and blonde and has a looooot of songs about breakups, lol.)

Once Fletcher finished her set, there was another break while the road crew set up Bastille’s equipment. It was sort of fun to watch, because they’re all English blokes so they’re chatting away in cute accents while they’re doing the setup.

And then, FINALLY, Bastille came on stage. 

And it. 

Was.

WORTH IT.

They went hard from the moment they stepped on stage, and kept the energy up the entire time. 

I cannot fully express to you how electric they are live -- but let’s just say that all the good pictures are Mikey’s because  a) he is the bestest of friends and played cameraman for the evening -- but also b) I was too busy jumping around with Dan to get any actual images of Dan jumping around

He even raced up to the balcony during Flaws, WHILE SINGING and dancing. (I was a bit disappointed he didn’t come by where we were standing, but I was also happy for the balcony peoples because you don’t normally get to interact much in the balcony. Also: ART DECO!!!)

Dan Smith’s voice was PEAK HONEY, and he did all the songs I hoped he would: The Draw, Blame, Quarter Past Midnight...hell, I’ll just show you the set-list, which I got to see after the show:

(The girl holding it was the one who got to keep it -- she was super sweet and a HUGE fan who’d been to tons of concerts but had never gotten a hold of a set-list, so we were all happy she finally got one! :D) 

SIDENOTE: 

During the show, there was this moment in the song Bad Blood where Dan came over to the side of the stage where we were standing. Now, the camera lens makes it seem like we were farther away than we were, like this:

When in reality we could see more like this:

So the band could see our faces, too. So during Bad Blood, Dan’s singing, and I’m singing along with him (like a goober) and I raised my hand like you do when you’re feeling a song...

and he RAISED HIS HAND BACK AND SANG TO ME!

For like, two seconds, but still. It was a MOMENT.

After that, I was floating on Cloud 9 -- so when the concert ended, I was ready to call it a perfect night. But when we went out (the back exit, as it was closer,) Mikey mentioned that because the line had stretched around the far corner of the Wiltern, we’d never gotten a chance to get a pic of the actual marquis. 

So we paused, and I looked back at the theater alley and thought -- huh, I wonder if they might...come out afterwards? Mebbe sign a few things? I has this nice shirt I spent too much money on...mebbe they sign my nice shirt, eh?

So Mikey went to get his pic of the marquis, which came out FABULOUSLY:

And then we settled in to wait at the end of the alley where we thought they might come out. Turns out, we were at the wrong end. So after like, 30 mins of waiting on one end, we (there were like, 20 of us) meandered over to the OTHER end of the alley, where the band’s cars were waiting and the crew was loading out the equipment. 

BTW, the Bastille crew? Super sweet, English and American, and those boys fucking HUSTLED. They were rolling 300-400lb equipment into this semi, basically doing the world’s largest game of Tetris, trying to fit everything in. We was all v v impressed. 

They also brought us water?? Because we’d been waiting for an hour and a half at this point and they felt bad, like...?? AND THEN, they gave us the balloons from the set!!

And all the fans were really nice, and started taking the bunches of balloons apart so that everyone who wanted a balloon could have one (I got a green one, mah favorite color!)

So we’re waiting. And waiting. And WAITING GODDAMN DON’T THEY HAVE CLOCKS IN ENGLAND??

The crew finishes loading, the semi backs out, still we wait. Their manager finally comes out and says that yes they’re coming out, but probably only going to take a couple of group shots with all of us/not sign anything or chat. Why? Because the boys are exhausted. He tells us they’ve flown from England to Sacramento to Vegas to LA in 3 days and played 4 shows, soo... understandable situation. 

EXCEPT for this one fan, who started whining at the manager. “I didn’t wait ALL THIS TIME for some fucking group shot, I want a SELFIE!” “I need Dan to take a pic of me with my SIGN!!” (She kept harping about her sign... is no even a good sign?) 

Then, when it looked for a second like maybe the boys weren’t coming out at all, she snaps “You PROMISED they were coming!!” >:( The tone of this person’s voice, man -- you know the one? Like she’s Sharon at the Walmart and they were out of stock of Pantene Pro-V or some shit and they OWED HER some gotdamn PANTENE and where is the manager?? Ugh.

Anywho, the boys come out. (Except Will. He might have already fallen asleep, IDK lol.) But there was a Dan and a Kyle and a Woody, and they all not ONLY took some group shots, but DID give hugs and stuffs. 

(Dan giving hugs. Woody, who was totally smiley and friendly and not a miserable git like this pic makes him look...right after this moment he ran over and gave the girl next to me a hug. Kyle was off to my right, giving many hugs and taking many pictures.)

(Dan in a taco hat a fan had given him. Woody heading back after giving many hugs.)

(Dan apologizing profusely because someone gave him a shirt for a present and he hadn’t realized that there was an image of a nekkid lady in the art collage on the front, and we were all ladies and he didn’t want us to feel uncomfortable or think he was a misogynist so he covered it up oh god he’s such a cinnamon roll I cannot!)

And now, the moment you’ve been waiting for: THE KISS.

So, during the interminable waiting, (literally, TWO HOURS PLUS, you guys!) several of us started chatting -- during the chat, it came up that I has made a Bastille art. I showed the ladies this pic:

because we were all talking about Dan shaving his head and I was trying to convince them it was actually kinda hot, lol. 

They really liked the art!! :D So much so that they convinced me (after many prods and encouragements) to show the art to Dan. And I was gonna do it, honest! I was super brave and not at all terrified.

But then came the whole they’re too tired thing and I was like, eh, mebbe no? 

And THEN, Superbitch Fan was standing right next to me DEMANDING that Dan take a selfie with her and her sign. (Which he did, like a sweetheart.) Then when he went to turn to me, Superbitch decided she didn’t like the first pic, and PUSHED IN FRONT OF ME AND PAST THE SECURITY BARRIER to demand he take another one.

Which he did, like a sweetheart -- but then turned past me, probably so she couldn’t grab him again. So I figured, lost cause, right?

Wrong. As he turned back, I was holding the phone out, but not quite up, kind of undecided -- and it caught his eye. 

Daniel Campbell Smith GASPED, CLUTCHED HIS HEART

and said “Wow.” Looked at the pic, then back to me, said, “Did you...”

And I held it up and said “Um, yes, I made you...an art?” (Because you know, what are words and why would I, a writer, know how to use them?)

And he just gaped, like HE had no words -- and then leaned in and KISSED ME ON THE CHEEK.

And not a peck, either?? Like a firm, full on “you are amazing and so is your art thing thank you so much” kiss for several seconds??

AND MIKEY GOT THE PIC!

TL;DR:

It may be blurry, but there it is! Immortalized for all time, the moment Daniel Cinnamon Roll Smith liked my artwork SO MUCH he had to kiss me to say thank you. 

And then, dear friends, I died. 

I have, in fact, been writing this diary from my condo on the edge of the Lake of Fire in Hades. Because I’m dead. 

BEST. NIGHT. EVER!!**

((Bonus: Mikey is now a Bastille fan! He really liked the concert, and is going to make his own playlist based on the concert’s set list. I’m so freaking happy we got to share that!! :DDDD)) 

((Super-bonus: Look in the right-hand corner of the kiss pic. See that woman looking like she’s having her night ruined? THAT was Superbitch. HA!))

**All credit to @gnaist for taking pictures of the entire night, even when I didn’t know he was shooting lol. 

[adventureswithtyntyn]

8/12-(3 mile run, 1 mile walk+strength) Happy Sunday! Today will definitely be a low movement day for me, because we are driving 6 hours to Denver!

So this morning we got up, packed our car, ate some breakfast & we were on our way! For breakfast I had the same thing as yesterday. Oatmeal with cinnamon, & Greek yogurt with honey, blueberries & Raisin Bran. We set out & stopped basically every hour or two to either use the bathroom or walk or eat. Our first stop was just to get gas in South Dakota. Then our second stop was in Lingle, Wyoming (population 450). We stopped to go to the bathroom, stretch etc. Then our last stop before Denver was Cheyenne, Wyoming. Somehow the biggest city in Wyoming? We ate at a diner, supposedly one of the best restaurants in the city, but it really wasn’t that good. I got eggs scrambled with cheese & spinach. The eggs were pretty good, but I wasn’t crazy about the potatoes. The biscuit was okay, but greasy. While waiting for our food I literally walked up & down the street for 20 minutes. People probably thought I was crazy😂 As for road trip snacks my favorites tend to be rice cakes, cereal, chocolate & granola bites! I didn’t do much while in the car. I listened to music mostly, iced my back & that was basically it. The service was extremely spotty. I didn’t really feel like reading either. I kind of hate road trips/long car rides especially with my back issue, but it wasn’t horrible, just tiring.

Once we arrived at Denver I changed super quick & headed to the hotel gym. It was a super nice gym tbh. I started with a quarter mile walk before transitioning into running. I ran 3 miles for a time of 28:37 or 9:45 pace. Okay so I maybe got some tingling, but it just felt so good to run....I know I’m kinda dumb, but it’s so hard for me to not run. I just feel 10X better when I do. As I was running I kept thinking about something I saw on Instagram that said “I can do hard things”. For me not running is a hard thing. Looking at my workouts this time last year & comparing them to today that’s a hard thing. I’m at a completely different fitness level now, but the silver lining of an injury is that I can work back to that eventually. Then I did 20 minutes of strength almost all arms with literally 3 minutes of lower body. It felt good to lift, I didn’t feel as well as I did last week. After the strength I finished with another half mile walk for a mile total! Also I have no idea why my legs look so tan? After that we got ready & went to dinner. For dinner I had chicken with some corn salad thing. It was good & tasted really fresh. Then we went to bed early because we were tired.

Injury update: tingling getting slightly better. Glute a bit sore & tingling got worse with running, but it wasn’t horrible.

Snacks: cereal, chocolate, rice cake

Today I’m thankful for where I live (after driving through all these small towns) & just being able to run at all

[un-living-perfection]

Do you plan on doing anything today? :3

OOC:

You know what, I’ll tell you the WHOLE story. 😘

On 28th December 1999 at 5:49 am at the hospital “Links der Weser” in Bremen, Germany, by C-section, a baby girl was-

Okay. That’s TOO early. 😃😂

Let me tell you about my 18th birthday. 🌚

So, on the 27th around half past 9 pm my brother (who’s 29 and staying over the holidays) drove me to my friend C’s house (He doesn’t want me to walk around at night 🙄).

My friends K and A were there as well. (K’s my best friend and - unlike me - she has known both C and A for a pretty long time. I know C for like a year and had seen A a few weeks earlier on K’s birthday, but I wanted her to come since I liked her from the start.)

C’s parents weren’t home (I was super careful about not bothering them in general) and I had brought a bottle of champagne. We were getting comfy and started playing “Welcome to the game” which is a horror game in which you have to find codes in the darknet before being murdered by a killer.

A played first and K and C were walking to “Rewe” (german supermarket 😌) to get some Chicken Nuggets and popcorn and stuff (We were hungry, I guess?).

They came back, we ate, and drank Coke, A died in the game (we screamed when she got murdered), K played and died (we screamed when she got murdered), and C played (Guess what? She died and we screamed when she got murdered).

Around quarter past 11, it was my turn to play. I didn’t wanna, since I prefer watching and I had never played that game, but I agreed anyway, ‘cause I didn’t wanna ruin the fun. I played and guess what? Not a single jumpscare. 😃

I was still playing when it was almost 0 and started stressing the others like “I don’t wanna turn 18 playing this damn game”. 😂

I knew they had something planned. So we left the game alone at about 11:59 and they blindfolded me (😉) and lead me to a room.

When I could open my eyes freely, I saw they had decorated the table, there were glasses for the champagne, balloons, little “18” stickers and everything. 😃

They had even baked me a chocolate cake with a Horus eye on it!!! 😍

Well, I was super happy, we ate the cake and opened the champagne, they even gifted me an ugly necklace with “18"s on them. xD

We talked and laughed, and laughed some more, until C thought it’d be a good idea to open up her parents’ whiskey. (Her parents had returned around midnight, going straight to bed, and the champagne bottle was empty.)

C and A got especially drunk (they could barely walk) while K and I were relatively fine (I had only had a glass of champagne). We went back to C’s room to watch some funny videos on YouTube since we were all super happy and careless (except for C who was super unwell and stuck on the toilet 😶🙄😂).

Somehow at like half past 1, I ended up messaging my brother. He picked me up and K brought me to the car (A was almost asleep and C was still in the bathroom).

So, I arrived home, my mom was happy, everything was good, bla bla bla.

At like 2 pm right before lunch, K messaged me saying that C’s dad was super damn angry. I asked why and she said that we had been too loud and he was pissed about the missing alcohol and APPARENTLY he hadn’t known that I’d be there, even though, before coming, I double checked on K that C’s parents would be OKAY with me coming and celebrating! 😑

Well, it turned out that he was SO ANGRY, going back to C’s place wasn’t an option. We couldn’t go to A either, because she wasn’t allowed to leave her house this day (fight with her grandma) and not to K either ‘cause idk.

I asked Mom if my friends could come over ‘cause we couldn’t go to C’s place again, but she got pissed and said no, because “bla bla, I’m not prepared, bla bla, the house isn’t clean, what will they think of us, bla bla bla”.

So I tried to discuss with K where to go (we had wanted to play Outlast and all 😞) and we ended up getting into a fight that got so nasty, I thought I could literally do nothing and just stay at home (That’s when your message arrived, anon, haha).

Well, we ended up meeting in a cafe (our fights are frequent but short xD) in the city. Of COURSE, not before I got into another fight with my mom, grabbed my bag and left and saw that it was fucking raining only to go up again to get an umbrella and get into ANOTHER fight with her, and ended up shedding a few tears on the way (luckily, I had a tissue) because literally no one loves me xD

Well, K and C and I met and spent an afternoon at the cafe and they gave me amazing gifts. 🙂 (Also, I found out that K had cleaned the room at like 3 am, and A had vomited after I had left, and two SEXIST CAR DRIVERS hooted on my way to the city, because apparently I'm hot af. 🙄)

Then I came home at almost 7 pm and we had some cake my mom had bought earlier, with tea and… I got a few good gifts from my family and some crappy gifts from my family 🤔(my brother laughed his ass off as he literally gifted me A CARD GAME WITH PICTURES OF SAUSAGE on, like wtf 🙄).

I uploaded some chapters of my fanfic and now, I’m lying in bed at 1 am, wondering if I will get my driving license before April or if I will literally end up without one. 🙂

Hope you had a nice day as well and bless you if you’ve made it til here. :D

[taylorowelch]

8/24 - 8/4 Mile 2461.5 - Mile 2660 - 198.5 miles

I slept until about 9, which felt heavenly. The bunkhouse was fresh with cold morning air. Jerry, the trail angel who runs Hiker Haven, drove all the hikers into town to have breakfast. We sat around a big round table at the inn and I ate a giant plate of scrambled eggs with a warm homemade biscuit. I was so content. One of Jerry’s friends, Bill, walked in as we were eating and had breakfast with us, eventually offering to let Dustin and I use his washing machine, since Jerry’s wasn’t working. The town of Skykomish is about 200 people. The high school, middle school and elementary school are all contained in one building. The girl who gave us a ride to town yesterday told us that she graduated from that high school and that there were six people in her graduating class. When we told Jerry this he said, “Oh, wow, that was a big one.” When we finished breakfast Jerry dropped Dustin and I at Bill’s. We did our laundry and made phone calls and googled things for a few hours. I sat by the Skykomish river and talked on the phone, watching the light catch on the water, watching tiny birds flit from one bank to the other. When our laundry was done, Bill drove us back to Hiker Haven where we watched movies, ate copious amounts of gas station microwaveable food and basked in our cleanliness. The next day all the hikers got ready to leave. We got to town, ate breakfast and did phone chores, scrolling and scrolling in service land. Supposedly there’s no service until Manning Park, in Canada, 188 miles away. I ordered shoes and a new tent since my zipper broke. We got a ride back to the trailhead at Stevens Pass and scrolled some more, trying to squeeze every last google out of the internet. We hiked out around 2:30, later than we had planned but it was nice to have a relaxing day. This last section of trail into Canada is tough, notoriously so. We hiked a difficult 10 miles to camp, our feet aching after the short day. We pitched our tents next to a lake, cooked dinner and went to bed. My alarm went off at 5:30 and I ignored it stubbornly. I was up by six and walking around 7:15, later than I would have liked. The day involved lots of climbing and descending, over and over again. The terrain was tough, roots and rocks nestled in ditches where water had eroded the trail into little canyons, barely wide enough to put both of my feet inside side by side. It was painstaking work. My pack heavy with five days of food didn’t help. Huckleberries grew dense along the sides of the sunken trail. When I felt discouraged or tired I stuffed my face with a handful. We took more breaks than usual, stopping for water every five-or-so miles just to take our packs off, sit down, and drink a liter of water. We ate lunch at a beautiful lake that sat low in a basin of gray boulders. The water was a stunning blue, bright and deep at the same time. After I ate a tortilla with cheese and hot sauce for lunch we plowed on, climbing and descending for twelve more miles to camp. We only hiked 21 miles but it was arduous work. We finally got to camp at 7, in a little saddle at the top of a climb. I cooked spicy pasta shells and set up my tent while they soaked in boiling water to finish cooking. I ate them gleefully and chatted with a Swiss couple camped in the same spot. The setting sun cast these beautiful rays over everything, like it had spun the light with gold and laid it out over mountains and tall spruces and firs and patches of dirt. My alarm went off at 5am. I sleepily ate my breakfast and left camp at 6:15. The morning was dangerously warm and the rest of the day followed suit. There was a lot of climbing today, steep inclines leading to breezy passes. The trail was rough, rooty and rocky and carved out of the earth like yesterday. Sweat ran down my face, dirt gathered on the insides of my elbows, stuck to the sweat on my legs. We stopped for lunch at a creek and I hid in a patch of shade. A couple hiked up to me while I was eating. “Is that real food?” a middle-aged lady asked. “If you count cheese and cheetos and taco bell hot sauce in a tortilla as real food?” I mumbled back at her through my mouth full of junk food. After lunch I washed my feet in the creek, put my pack on and hiked, climbing again, dealing with many large blowdowns. I took a break at a creek three quarters of the way up the hill. I killed flies that bit my legs. I watched an ant carry a dead fly body in a large circle, pulling it around, yanking it through tufts of grass with all its might. It had no idea where it was going. We climbed a bit more and then descended a couple of miles to camp for a 23 mile day. The backs of my knees were sore from all the climbing. I made dinner and pitched my tent. Dustin made chocolate pudding that didn’t really set but we ate it anyway and it was better than not having any pudding. I didn’t sleep very well, and I was up at 5 and walking at 6:30. The morning was warm again and I knew we were in for another hot day. I climbed up and over a pass as light slid onto the mountains. A warm breeze passed over the mountainside. I lumbered on into the morning, tired, my feet hurt, my pack straps digging into my shoulders like they do. In a couple of hours I was dripping sweat, climbing 1500 feet in the humid sun. When I got to the lunch spot, a little campsite perched almost at the peak of the climb, it was half-shaded. I was so happy. I laid on my tyvek, feeling the weight of my body released from me feet, my skin hot. I ate lunch and then dug dirt out from under my toenails. I hiked out around 2, stopping at a little stream and pouring water over my head. It was so cold. I began a long descent that left my feet angry and painful. The forest around grew huge and tall and dense, moss carpeting the entire floor, growing over rocks and downed trees. It looked like one huge blanket, like snow. It consumed everything. Giant ferns and wide green leaves grew all around. In some places leaves grew into little archways over the trail, tinting the sunlight green. I felt like I had entered another world, like I was a bug, something microscopic, crawling through some super-sized version of forests I thought I knew. At 6:45 we got to camp at the Suiattle River for another 23 mile day. It was raging and swollen and brown. The water munched down over big boulders, slapped against rocks on either bank, making it difficult to get water. I cooked dinner, burnt it, ate it anyway. I was so hungry. Today felt just as difficult as yesterday. As I washed my pot I felt the exhaustion creeping up through all of my bones and I hurried off to bed. At 5am when my alarm went off I could feel that deep tired trying to pull me back into sleep. I begrudgingly got up and moving in the warm morning. I began a monstrous climb, 4,000 some feet. The incline wasn’t terrible but my body was exhausted and painful. My feet hurt in so many different places and ways. As the day heated up I got pack rash again. The straps of my pack began to chafe my armpits. I sat down for lunch and was greeted by biting flies. I killed so many of them and they continued to appear from whatever terrible place biting flies materialize. I filtered water and kept walking, the day beginning to boil. It was so humid. Smoke hung low in the atmosphere, trapping all the heat. My hip began to hurt. I listened to music to try and power through the next few miles and started crying in the middle of the trail. A huge fly whizzed around me, hanging in front of my snotty face. I wiped the snot from my nose and then wiped my snot-covered hand on a tree. I walked and snot-rocketed and walked and snot-rocketed. Washington is hard. I forded a creek and the icy water filled my shoes, which felt great on my aching feet. I sat down on the other side of the creek and filtered water. I talked to Dustin and felt a little better. there were only three more miles to camp. A hot wind followed me the whole way. I got to camp around 6, laid out my tyvek and collapsed on it. I laid on my back feeling the pressure release from my feet. I took off my socks and scraped some of the dead skin off my feet. I filtered water and made dinner and ate snickers bars and felt the heaviness of exhaustion pooling behind my eyelids. I crawled into my tent happy that there were only ten miles left until Stehekin tomorrow. We got up at six and hiked the last ten miles to town, arriving early to the spot where the shuttle would pick us up. A girl I met my second day on trail was there. She was hiking south. It was so cool to see her, in the same way it had been cool to see Blue. A white bus pulled up to the group of hikers and a middle-aged guy wearing a ten-gallon hat and a short-sleeved button down climbed out. He stretched his legs, we got on the bus, and got out at the infamous Stehekin Bakery. I got a lemon bar, a piece of hawaiian pizza and a giant stromboli filled with ham and swiss cheese. Dustin got the same one filled with pesto, onions, mushrooms and swiss cheese. We split them and felt like we could die happy. Then we got back on the bus and got dropped off a few miles down the gravel road at the North Cascades Lodge, where there’s a campground and a store and a public shower/laundry building. I took a great shower, did my laundry, spent too much time at the post office and ate a giant burger with beer battered fries. We stayed up late talking with other hikers and then wandered back up the steep dirt road to the campsite. I awoke to a bright tent, the day becoming warm even in the constant breeze that tumbled over the little town of a Stehekin. I broke down camp and went down to the deck of the lodge. When Dustin got there some kind of debacle was going on about a bus driver not having a CDL, and no busses were running, so we walked the 1.6 miles to the bakery. We got stuck in front of the pastry case again, eyes like saucers, salivating at bacon-swiss stromboli, carrot cake muffins piled high with cream cheese frosting, chocolate zucchini cake, chai coffee cake, six different kinds of cookies, etc. I ate so much. I felt like I did in Big Bear Lake, hundreds of miles ago. I laid in the fetal position on the grass outside, again. Other hikers laughed at me, again. At least this time nobody asked to take my picture. I packed out two pieces of pizza for dinner. A bus came around 11:20 to take us to the trailhead. All of the food jostled around in my stomach. I curled up in the seat and tried to stop thinking about how sick I felt. I sat around at the trailhead for a few minutes and then decided there was no better way to cure a stomach ache than a 29 mile climb, so I started walking. A woman we met in Skykomish named Hot Thumbs has been hiking with us for a few days now. The three of us hung out at a creek and talked for a bit. I saw my first bear on the PCT today. It was a bit small. I think it was a young adult bear. I rounded a corner and it was in the trail eating berries off bushes. I startled it and it ran further down the trail. “Heeey bear,” I called, trying to make it run off the trail. It looked at me. “HEY BEAR,” I yelled. It ran off onto the hillside, ambling over bushes and taking swooping bites of berries as it passed them. It was cute. We reached our campsite around 6:30 for a 13 mile day. I ate my pizza and taught Hot Thumbs how to tie a bowline knot. The trail to the site was covered in bear scat. A ranger had warned us that this area was densely populated with bears who didn’t care about people being there and would do anything to get to their food. We hung everything we had that smelled from a tree and hoped for the best. I dreamed about bears and woke up at 6, the sleep still so close, heavy on my brain. We packed up and hiked out into the dense forest in the cold morning. After a few miles we crossed a highway that led to a trailhead parking lot and caught up with some hikers we met in town, Hats and Butter. Hot Thumbs and I walked with them into the parking lot where we were greeted with trail magic. We each had a beer and sat in the parking lot talking and procrastinating the long climb ahead of us. We let the day warm up a bit and then started the climb. It went on and on through the forest that soon opened up and had us on sandy ridge line, a row of peaks opposite us. Can something be bright dark gray? If it can, that’s what they were. Everything was so bright against the deep blue sky. Everything green was so stark against the pale pinks and browns of the rocks that lined the dusty trail. I hiked with Hats for a bit and then Butter for a while. We talked and marveled at the snow-covered mountains in the distance, the plummeting valleys below. The day was so windy, my hat blew off at one point and I had to tip toe down a steep hill of loose rock to retrieve it. I love that hat so much. After a while I crossed a tiny stream to find John, who I had hiked around for a while in the desert, sitting on the other side. It seems like every day I see someone from trail past. It’s really nice. We caught up for a bit and then I hurried off to camp. Being a Friday, all the weekenders were out and the campsites were all full of big tents and very few people taking up lots of space. All the thru hikers end up cowboy camping where they can fit, which if you think about it is a really funny scenario. Sometimes if the trail is really packed on the weekend and we can’t find a campsite, Dustin and I shake our fists and, when we’re out of earshot, yell “get off my lawn” in an old man voice. I got to camp around 7, made mashed potatoes, set up my sleeping pad on the ground and pulled my sleeping bag around me. I listened to the sound of the Methow River next to me and watched one star in the sky above become ten, twenty, thirty in a little opening in the trees. Another hiker twenty feet away began to snore loudly. I put my earplugs in and hoped no bears would bother me in the night. The first light woke me as stars began disappearing. The sky turned light blue and I ate a pop tart and drank instant coffee in my sleeping bag as everyone else in camp went about their morning chores. I started walking around 7:30. The morning was chilly again, it felt good to shift into fall, away from the heat of summer that crept in at eight in the morning and lingered all day. I stopped at a stream before a 2500 foot climb to filter water. I powered up the climb, stopping a couple of times to take in the views of giant mountains opposite me. They were all angled and brown and dark gray, snow still resting in little pockets on their faces. Once I was on the ridge, wind swept over the side of the mountain. Big white plumes of smoke from two forest fires extended from other ridges to the north and the east. I stopped to eat lunch with Dustin and Hot Thumbs at a little spring in a sunny meadow. We huddled in a patch of shade. I ate cold ramen and washed my socks in the icy water. I left a note for Hats and Butter telling them where we were camping that night. A couple of hours after lunch, Hot Thumbs and I hit trail magic: a canopy set up at Hart’s Pass campground with coolers full of fresh cut watermelon on a table. We drooled over that for a while and then kept walking, climbing and descending and climbing to camp. Nine tents were already pitched in the field, all weekenders, so we cowboy camped on a ledge above the site. The moon was bright all night. In the morning a chorus of pikas woke us to see a beautiful yellow-pink sunrise. The sun was fiery orange as it peeked above the ridge in front of us. It had gotten quite chilly at night so we got up slowly. I brewed coffee thanks to the cup and reusable filter Hats and Butter had given me. This was the best treat I’ve had in so long: to drink hot coffee in my sleeping bag on this beautiful ridge watching the sky light up the day. I felt so soothed and wonderful even though my skin was dirty and my feet were prickling from all the miles I’ve walked and I smell like an old running shoe. Dustin left camp first and Hot Thumbs and I slowly got our things together and left about a half an hour later. We climbed up and over a pass, then descended to cross Foggy Pass (it seems like all the passes in Washington are gloomy: Rainy Pass, Foggy Pass, Windy Pass, the list goes on). I filtered water from a creek, talked to a day hiking couple and their dog, and ran into hikers all day who had chosen not to go into Canada and had already been to the monument. This was weird. This is the end of the trail for so many people. As they talked to me and walked away from me I could feel their energy just colossal and booming in a way that mine couldn’t be yet. Even though I still have miles to hike after I get to the monument, it feels enormous to be able to touch one end of it tomorrow, to bring tangibility to all of these miles, to remember where I was four months ago when I touched the one at the southern terminus. All of the moments I’ve experienced between the two have already been stupendous, difficult, agonizingly beautiful, mind-numbingly fatiguing and filled with infinitely varying amounts of hope and sorrow and joy and wonder. I felt lucky that there were more ahead of me. I knew that if I had to be done today, that if I didn’t have a reason to hike more miles, to keep being on the trail, that I would be deeply sad. My immediate physical pain would be relieved if I didn’t have to continue waking up and walking so much every day, but I would spend so much less time in the sun, so many fewer moments watching the world unfurl itself before me in such a pure, silent, slow way. I would miss drinking cold mountain spring water, I would soon take for granted all the moments I spent squeezing water from one bottle to another through my filter, I would become accustomed to the luxury of turning a knob on a faucet and filling a glass of pre-treated city water. I would be forced to face the world as I’ve grown up knowing it: loud, busy, fast, demanding, stark and harsh in opposite and tragic ways from this one I’ve lived in for four months. This is what people mean when they when they say that thru hiking will break your heart and ruin your life. I have spent the last few days contemplating the progress of human kind in the context of this walk. People who walk long trails often find that it needs to become part of their life permanently. Why is this? I keep visiting this question. Weren’t the earliest humans nomadic? Is this similar to the way they lived? After walking so many miles it seems like it could be true, going where the weather is suitable, following reliable food, bearing witness to the constant pattern of nature accumulating and dying and being born again that is life. We have moved so far from this as a species that to live in this way would be defined as unsuccessful, unproductive or foolish. How could a person make a “decent living” if they spent so much time in nature? I guess that depends on how one defines living decently. Thru hiking ruins a person’s concept of leading a successful life as society defines it. It brings people back to the essence of whatever it was to be human thousands of years ago. I watched smoke plumes from a wildfire extend into a bright blue sky from behind a jagged gray ridge. This fire was caused by humans, rangers had told me a couple of days ago. The smoke was so dynamic, so many different textures, puffy and flat and dense and thin as the wind spread it across smaller peaks in the distance. Some of the smoke was bright white, other smaller plumes were an old yellow, and another was a deep gray. Hot Thumbs and I stood at the last 7000 foot peak on the PCT in Washington. This was going to be her last night on trail, her last big view. We could see the trail below us snaking down the side of the mountain. Another hiker, Chubs, pointed to some peaks in the distance and said, “That’s Canada.” We just stood there and looked. We savored that last northern Cascade peak, the wind swirling around us, our shirts flapping in the breeze. We descended to Hopkins Lake and filtered water as the sun sank behind the mountain, then hiked the last couple of miles to camp. I made pesto pasta, drank electrolyte water and ate a snickers bar. I blew up my sleeping pad on my sheet of tyvek and watched the stars come out one by one. I woke up and made coffee, the process spilling it all over my tyvek. I drank it and watched the pale sky lighten, smoke dense in the mountains north of us. We got to walking soon and descended into it. This was the first time I could really smell the smoke. In four miles I heard clapping and cheering and walked into the tiny clearing where the monument was. It was four little wooden pillars and one metal one, an American flag on one side and a Canadian flag on the other. I walked up and looked at it. “Touch it!” yelled someone behind me. My hand reached out for it and I hesitated just above one of the pillars. Here it was. One end of this thing. I put my hand gently on the pillar. I froze there for a moment, I looked at the clear-cut line of trees behind the monument, the dividing line between two nations. What a moment this was. I was still glad I wasn’t done yet, but it felt good to celebrate all the miles I had hiked anyway. I drank a beer and Dustin, Hot Thumbs and I took pictures. Then we hiked the last smoky eight miles to Manning Park, a resort where we ate giant burgers. We showered and then Dustin and I said our goodbyes to Hot Thumbs who was taking a bus to the airport to go home. Then we got our longest hitch of trail into Vancouver, about 140 miles, during which I got a smoothie and a free beer and chips and dip. We got to Vancouver at about 9pm and met up with Dustin’s friends who generously let us stay with them for a couple of nights. In a few days we’ll take a bus to Sacramento, resupply, and hike into the High Sierra from Kennedy Meadows. I can’t wait.

[doihaveanaccentyet]

Il Ritorno

It’s been three years and I’m back. Back to Europe, back to crying on a transatlantic flight, and back to writing about it. It’s a little bit weird, I think, to resurrect my college study abroad blog, but it was kind of a condition of me being invited on this trip. A promise is a promise! So here goes:

To provide some back story, my parents let my brother and I know in the fall that they were planning a two-week European trip for Memorial Day weekend. At the time, Corey was a few months into college and couldn’t think of anything worse than spending a week+ with his family, when he could be wasted in the desert (I assume) of El Paso Texas at some horrible-sounding music festival. My parents told me they wouldn’t be taking me unless Corey came too. So, thank you Corey for realizing what a colossal mistake it would have been to miss Italy for EPT.

We left on Tuesday, May 23rd, at 5pm to land in Rome at 7am. This is a horrible time to fly overnight and why my mom thought giving me a quarter of a 0.5 milligram Xanax dosage would suffice is unclear to me. After 8 hours of in and out naps, we landed in Rome. A family friend told me before we left that the Rome airport was the worst airport he’d ever been to. And he was right! There was absolutely NO rhyme or reason to customs there. The lines were really just crowds that zig zagged through the airport until we reached the 3 working customs officers, who barely paid attention to our passports and made us feel EXTREMELY secure. It smelled AWFUL; college kids arriving to study in Rome for the summer after an overnight flight should be required to spray themselves down before exiting the aircraft.

When we finally made it through customs, we ran to our rental car and got on the road to begin our trip: 6 nights in San Donato, Tuscany with two day trips to Florence, and finally an afternoon and evening in Rome before Corey and I fly home and my parents continue on for another week relaxing in Positano. Three hours of sleep later, my mom had driven us to the quintessential Italian village of San Donato. It was literally the most Italian place on earth. We stayed at an adorable bed and breakfast run by a woman named Maria who baked a delicious olive oil cake every day. At the corner store – where you could buy lottery tickets, limoncello, and a freshly sliced prosciutto sandwich – three old men sat outside smoking cigarettes day and night. And old ladies walked up and down the streets yelling to friends in their apartments above. The view from our rooms overlooked the many, many vineyards of Tuscany and was just gorgeous. It was all out of a movie.

We spent that first afternoon walking around the 700-person village (we’re fairly certain this is a major exaggeration of the population of this town). And we ate dinner right outside our door at La Toppa, an adorable “Michelin star” restaurant. Let me begin by saying yes, it was delicious. Especially the Ribolita, which was an important find for our family (this traditional Tuscan bread and vegetable soup was a big hit among the soup-obsessed Joskowitz clan). But what we quickly learned was every halfway decent restaurant in Italy had a sticker saying it was Michelin rated. So while it was a delicious and reliable dinner during our days in San Donato, it probably wasn’t as special as we first assumed it would be. 

On Thursday, my mother’s birthday, we spent the day in Florence with a tour guide who ushered us through our ONE day of museums for the trip. She was so sweet and not judgmental when we informed her she can leave us at Gusta Pizza for our one hour lunch break. Probably one of the most well-known dining establishments in Florence (by Americans) I was in all my glory. I think about Gusta Pizza almost daily since I first had it during my visit to Florence three years ago and it was just as good as I remembered. The spicy salami. The way the melted cheese, sauce, and olive oil meet in the middle of the uncut personal pie so you can rip off the crust and dip it into the little pool of perfection. I love it. And to make the experience even more sweet, One Direction was playing when we walked in. Meaningful.

We spent the rest of the day seeing the sights, buying leather jackets from Massimo (who probably rips off every American under the sun but no one cares) and listening to my mom talk about it being her birthday. We completed the day with an Aperol Spritz in one of the many beautiful squares in Florence and finally dinner at Trattoria Gobbi 13, home of the best cheesecake I’ve ever eaten. Many people accuse me of saying everything is the BEST or the WORST I’ve ever had/done/seen. But I can back this statement up: I literally have not eaten cheesecake since I ate it here three years ago because I no longer feel it necessary to eat a block of cream cheese knowing there is a heaping, messy pile of ricotta and crust and berries out there in the world. It’s simply THE BEST. My mom ordered mushroom fettuccini which was the highlight of the savory portion of the meal. And we got her an extremely decedent chocolate cake with a candle to celebrate her life, which we are all so thankful for. She only cried a little while we sang to her, which we were also thankful for.

We then proceeded to drive home. And by drive home I mean we drove into the city of Florence (from the outskirts where we parked) in 237407 circles because google maps kept telling us to turn the wrong way down one way streets. When we finally got out my dad and brother were fuming in the front seats while mom and I were hysterical in the back 

I should probably take a moment to mention the beauty housed in the many museums of Florence. But, the most important one, the Gucci Museum was closed. So there was that. We saw many paintings and sculptures by Michelangelo, Da Vinci, and other artists that put me to sleep while reading history books in middle school, but the David was what really struck me.

About 7 years ago my mom and I went to Paris. Like most people, we went to the Louvre to see the great Mona Lisa. Like all people, we were outraged to find that it is about the size of a post card, and preserved behind a several foot-deep glass box. The David was the opposite. It was humongous, and we could get up close enough to take a decent selfie with his penis! It was really stunning and a wonderful way to end our day of pretending to care about the different art styles of the renaissance.

On Friday we visited Siena, which Rick Steves, author of many tour books, called the best square in Italy. It was a beautiful town high up on a hill full of beautiful castles, extremely boring museums, and many opportunities to drink an Aperol Spritz! We ate crappy pizza in the square that we regretted immediately after as we should never ever have settled for a tourist trap in the town’s center. We should have been more patient and eaten somewhere off a narrow side street that would have blown our minds. But we live and we learn.

Later that night we headed further into Tuscany for a cooking class at a lovely Dutch couples’ home. Why Dutch and not Italian? No clue. Did the teacher listen when my mom emailed saying some of us don’t like cheese (dad) or seafood (dad)? Absolutely not. Did we each go home with about 57 mosquito bites? You bet. That being said, it was truly a night I’ll never forget. From holding on for dear life as we drove down windy roads with little signage, to watching my brother and father have internal breakdowns upon seeing tuna roll ups and lemon ricotta gnocchi on the menu, to getting yelled at twice for almost ruining the one saving grace of the meal, flourless chocolate cake - it was so much fun. We all participated in cooking various parts of the meal, while the teacher, an older woman, told us about her days of being a doctor all over the world, and finally settling into retirement with her husband on this insanely gorgeous farm in Tuscany, where they grow fruits and vegetables all spring, summer, and fall, and retreat to the city of Florence for the winters. Her husband popped in and out of the kitchen close-talking to each of us at one point or another. He toured us around their property to show us their chickens, olive trees, rose garden, infinity style pool, and herbs growing in the backyard. The inside of the house was completely modern, with stainless steel appliances and a marble countertop in the kitchen which was boxed in by floor to ceiling glass windows and doors. It was truly one of the most stunning properties I’ve ever seen, especially as we ate the tasteless mean during sunset.

A fun fact we learned about Tuscany is way back when, other cities didn’t like Florence, (this is the abbreviated version of history) so they didn’t deliver salt to the Tuscan region. And boy was this true! No one in the area cooked with much salt, if any, so all three dinner courses – tuna and olives wrapped in grilled zucchini, lemon ricotta gnocchi, and herb grilled turkey (extremely random, yes) – were basically tasteless. Well, the tuna tasted like olives, the gnocchi tasted like nothing, and the turkey tasted like herbs. But everything was salt-less. And if you know me, you know my love of sodium, so we struggled. Still, we obviously licked every plate clean, including the rich chocolate cake topped with homemade whipped cream and fresh raspberries. Then we spent the whole car ride home talking about how bland everything was. At least we were polite!

Saturday morning after breakfast we headed to Radda, another small town in Tuscany full of cheese and salumi shops, lined with bags of colorful pasta and pungent truffle oils. We stumbled upon a restaurant below a medieval castle, where my mom and I shared a wine tasting of 8 wines, and we all ate lunch. I was healthy and had spaghetti with fresh veggies, Corey attempted to find a spicy, salty dish in a spaghetti arrabiata but failed, and my mom had truffle ravioli. Going into this trip, the smell of truffle could ruin my meal. I live in fear of sending food back in restaurants but if my meal ever came with a touch of truffle oil I had to ask for a new one. I am a changed woman! One bite into my mom’s ravioli she was crying. This time, because it was simply the best lunch she’s ever had. And this woman eats at all the top restaurants in New York City, but said this was the best lunch she’s ever eaten. So I had to taste. And it was incredible. Mostly because it was smothered in butter, my favorite condiment, but the truffle was delicious so long as I didn’t take a huge huffing smell of it. My palate became sophisticated right before our very eyes 

We spent a little while longer walking around the tiny town, but these photos will probably never be seen because I wore a semi maxi dress with sneakers and looked extremely religious this day. My dad NEVER tells me I look bad in anything but he probably told me 12 times how weird/fat/religious I looked in this get up. It was true.

We then visited a little winery town called Volpaia where we walked uphill for maybe 2 minutes and then had to sit for an hour and drink an Aperol Spritz. When I say we are the laziest sack of shit family I do not lie. Any time during the entire trip we spent more than 4 minutes in the sun or traveled up more than one flight of steps we proceeded to sit for double that amount of time afterward.

We ended our Saturday night in San Gimignano at a family owned winery, Tenuta Torciano, for a tasting and dinner. As they usually host larger groups, we had a private tasting for 4 in a room lined with barrels of wine. The meal was absolutely delicious, which none of us were expecting. It began with a small salad with salumi and home made pecorino cheese drizzled with 30 year-aged balsamic vinegar, and was followed by grandma’s lasagna with just the right balance of meat and ricotta. My dad and brother then shared a Florentine style steak while my mother and I shared wild boar, which was the most perfect love child of pulled pork and short ribs. It was so tasty and reminded me what it’s like to taste salt. It was the best thing my father ate (he finished mine because I ate his lasagna because I am gluttonous) during our entire trip. The meal ended with vanilla gelato drizzled with the aged balsamic, which was the perfect combination 

We tasted unlimited wines, about 10 in total, and by tasted I mean my mom finished all of her tastings and most of the rest of ours. One can assume how this night ended. (tears, falling, blackout, etc.)

Sunday morning we visited another tiny medieval town (that’s basically all Tuscany/Chianti is. A cluster of wineries and tiny, steep towns with delicious treats and stunning views), Val di Pesa. Here we had lunch on the side of cliff where I had my most mediocre meal of goat cheese ravioli in a roasted red pepper sauce. Corey on the other hand had an incredible skirt steak smothered in shaved black truffles. It was so delicious and rich.

And then we traveled to an extremely modern winery right off the highway, Marchesi Antinori, which sticks out like a sore thumb in a country of old, basically ancient buildings. We took a 30-minute tour and tasted their nasty chianti (we simply do not like chianti) and sweated our asses off as we roamed the rolling property. We finally retreated to the mediocre air conditioning in our rental car and drove back to the town of San Gimignano to visit the actual town square and taste what the kind people from Tenuta Torciano told us was the best gelato in Italy. They did not disappoint! I had a cone with mint, stracciatella, and cinnamon. Random combination, yes, but each was as delicious and flavorful as the next. We stopped in many little shops to admire the cheeses and purchase a red pepper flake grinder (important). We finished our day at La Toppa next door and ordered all new things. We ate outside and had an easy, tasty last dinner in San Donato until everyone’s allergies acted up and we caused a scene with our sneezing fits and had to go back to our B&B.

Monday morning we headed back into Florence for a day of shopping and eating. We drove directly to Piazza Michelangelo, skipping the hundreds of steps required from the city, to see the breathtaking view of Firenze. It is truly the most picturesque city and we were lucky to have perfect weather every day of our time in Italy. After taking 80 pictures of the same view, we drove closer into the city and began the feeding frenzy at l‘Antico Noe, a delicious sandwich shop that I had also visited during my last trip. We each ordered a different variation of prosciutto on bread and ate them with smiles on our faces and crumbs falling out of our mouths at a small table outside. When I ate at the same table three years ago I was hit by a man on a bike and I’m happy to report this did not happen again. (I’m sure I don’t need to mention this but for anyone wondering, no I did not drop my sandwich when I fell off my chair after being hit by the bike.)

Shopping was our main goal of the day and that goal was accomplished. All 4 of us left with treats (mostly leather), some larger some smaller. And we were all happy. We also returned to Massimo where he threw in free keychains and a free wallet probably because he feels a little bad for scamming us and everyone we know whose ever gone to him (everyone we’ve ever met whose been to Florence). La Giostra was our final dinner destination. I had eaten here 3 years ago as well but was not a fan. At the time I was apparently not the champion eater I am now, and after 3 days in the city I was sick of eating. I don’t even think I ordered my own dish, but tasted a few others and was not impressed. Nonetheless, this place was recommended by both locals and friends from home so we luckily got the last reservation available. And wow did I feel like an idiot. I don’t think words were spoken once the first morsel of food hit our table. The free appetizer plate of marinated mushrooms and celery, bruschetta, mortadella and ricotta potato puffs was gone within seconds. The pecorino and pear ravioli mom and I shared was so deliciously mild and perfect. Dad tasted his 4th soup in Italy and it was by far the best. Minestrone is always a crowd pleaser but this one was smothered in herbs and veggies. And Corey had a great pappardelle Bolognese. I ordered shrimp scampi over linguini which was so buttery and perfect with fresh prawns. Mom had a filet with a balsamic glaze so thick it looked like a layer of chocolate ganache. Corey had a wildly spicy and perfect spaghetti arrabiata and dad had a lemon veal. And we cannot forget the lightly breaded and fried veggies on the side. There were literally no words spoken. Just chewing and moaning. We then walked back over the Ponte Vecchio during sunset on the way to the car and took in the last moments in this wonderful part of the world.

Tuesday morning we woke early to get to Rome, where we were flying out of. I had never been, and while my parents and Corey had, they were kind enough to hurry there so I can see the city for the 18 hours I would be there. We rushed out of the hotel upon arrival and by 1pm, after not eating all day, we were famished and got trapped again at an awful tourist spot. My favorite pasta on earth is cacio e pepe, and this dish was born in Rome. But this shitty restaurant fucked up my pasta and painted Rome in a negative light already. We then took a smelly public bus to Vatican City and St. Peters Square, which was grand and beautiful and meaningful. It was also slightly depressing with homeless and injured people everywhere, men selling water screaming at each other, and selfie sticks whacking people in the face. We left and walked down the river and over to Piazza Navoa where I had a nice afternoon Grom gelato (crema de grom – so good) and then visited the Pantheon. It was definitely beautiful but after 7 days of walking non-stop we really just sat there “admiring” to rest our feet for 20 minutes.  We finally rallied to head to the Trevi Fountain, which like the David, impressed me beyond words. It was so gorgeous and made me a little emotional thinking about how many people from all over the world visit this monument to make a simple wish. My mom and I both threw coins behind us with smiles on our faces and it was a moment I won’t forget.

We walked 30 minutes back to the hotel to rest for a bit and then headed to our last family dinner before we departed for home, and my parents to the real vacation (from us). We first had drinks at an American Pittsburgh bar, that my parents and brother had fallen in love with when they visited years ago. It was on a Soho-like cobble stone street and was lined with restaurants and bars with al fresco seating in the perfect 70-degree evening weather. We ate just across the street at a place called Saltimbocca, which is what my father ordered. He first started with cacio e pepe potatoes, which we shared as I was too traumatized to get the pasta version again. And wow, were these little fried potatoes coated in cheese and black pepper PERFECTION. My mom got a heaping pile of fried anchovies, and Corey got an even bigger heaping pile of fried calamari and prawns. We easily could have been full after our appetizers, but Corey ordered a monstrous amount of miscellaneous seafood linguini, which came steamed in a foil swan, my mom ordered rigatoni puttanestca, and I ordered eggplant parm. All three were incredible. My eggplant was perfectly cooked and mushy and smothered in tasty bright red sauce. Of course I shared this with my dad, who never turns down a few bites of anything parm.

Now as I write this from the plane Wednesday morning, I cant help but feel not emotional, but complete. My family is close. Extremely close, really. But with Corey at school and me in the city and my parents having a very busy social life that barely includes me (I’m not bitter), it was so special to have this week together with no interruptions. We discussed on several occasions how amazing it is that we are older now and can travel without whining (too much) or crying (only mom) or needing to be carried (though dad probably would have preferred to be held). We all appreciate the beauty of exploring a place we’ve never been. We all drink semi-responsibly and can enjoy an al fresco cocktail together every night. We all truly enjoy food and have intelligent commentary to make about each dish. And most importantly, we all like each other. So much. As I’ve gotten older I’ve learned it’s pretty rare to have all members of an immediate family enjoy each other’s company, but we do. There is no one I’d rather travel anywhere with (except probably Vegas, dad can keep that boys trip to himself every year) and not just because I didn’t take out my credit card the entire time I was there. I am incredibly grateful to have this relationship with my family and hope they know how much I appreciate their love, support, money, and willingness to let me con Corey and I’s way onto this adventure.

Ciao again for now!

Dylan

P.S. A few random thoughts from our trip

- Bread in Tuscany is ASS. The no salt comes back into play here and the bread is truly inedible. I am grateful for this fact or I’d probably be 50 pounds heavier than when I left

- They don’t put screens on windows in Italy, so cue the infinite mosquito bites I got while inside the bed and breakfast

- Bed and breakfasts really are as cute as they seem in movies. Maria put out a wonderful breakfast spread of ham and cheese and croissants and fresh fruit and tomatoes and fresh juices every morning. She would also visit the breakfast room periodically to help people map out their days and give recommendations of where to visit. Aww!

- Chianti is disgusting and I give up on driving to enjoy it. Super Tuscan is a red I can work with. But if we ever do a wine-centric trip again, I hope we’ll be going to France for whites.

- I know on 34th street and other tourist spots in NYC there are people hocking you to buy tour tickets or souvenirs. But goddamn, is it a million times worse in Rome. People literally walked up to us at every meal shoving stuffed animals or flowers in our faces and just stared at us as if this would be a successful sales tactic. It was just too much.

- Portable Wi-Fi is the most important invention of the 21st century. On a scale of 1-10 this family as a whole is at about a 3 when it comes to reading maps. Having google maps was so vital to our happiness and livelihood. Amen.

- Regular Coke (and Fanta) from a can in Europe is just so delicious and makes soda at home taste even more toxic than we already know it is

- Every single person we met in Italy was kind and helpful and knew at least a bit of English which was obviously incredibly helpful and appreciated

- This trip was my parents first time in Florence. Yet when we walked in to Massimo leather he went up to my dad “AH YES! I remember you my friend! Tell me your name! You send friends to me!” We played along and got the “friends and family discount” but it’s important the world know the Massimo is just the best salesmen we’ve ever met.

- Finally, overall thoughts on the places I visited are as followed: Florence is incredible. Tuscany is stunning and full of endless little villages to visit and taste. Rome is kind of gross and dirty and overwhelming and their airport is bullshit.

[helenoftroybolton]

National Eating Disorder Awareness Week - My Story

Hi all.

This week is National Eating Disorder Awareness Week and I’m gonna tell you something I don’t think I’ve shared in the past, like, anywhere.

I am, very much so, in constant recovery from an eating disorder. It can be best described as Restrictive Anorexia Nervosa and/or Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder, depending on which doctor you ask.

I’m going to go into the story of my eating disorder, the signs of it, the (very nonspecific) ways in which I carried it out, and how I am doing now. If it’s triggering or upsetting, please do not continue to read. But if you need to hear a story of a young woman who hasn’t “beaten” her eating disorder but  is living with it, just more in check these days, please read on. I love you, be safe.

I have always been an anxious person and my anxiety specifically manifests itself in both nausea, the inability to eat, and a fear of vomiting. So you know, it was pretty easy to not eat if I was afraid that the nausea was going to make me sick. Then, sometimes, I’d just be too exhausted to get up and eat, or even carry out the actions to eat at all. Well, surprise surprise, I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder. So the anxiety makes me afraid to eat. The depression makes me too tired to eat.

I also thought I was super out of shape, always, even when I was probably in really great shape, because my heart would beat really hard and I’d feel faint and out of breath whenever I did any light exercise. Well, I also have a condition known as Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, or POTS, which basically means that my body thinks I’m bleeding out all the time, especially when I exercise. So when I don’t eat or drink enough, I get dizzy and need to sit or lie down for a while or else I may pass out.

So, lots of anxiety + nausea + fear of physical illness + feeling out of shape + Depression and lack of energy = solid building blocks of an eating disorder

The disorder itself began when I was a young teenager, before high school. My parents and a few close relatives, all of whom have struggled with their weight and were told by their doctors they needed to diet to lower their blood pressure and cholesterol levels, made a concerted effort to diet with the express purpose to lose weight. That meant that everything from a dash of table salt or a pat of butter all the way to birthday cake was not only gone from my household, but shamed if anyone expressed desire for it. I watched the Sunday breakfasts turn into SlimFast shakes and freshly baked cookies looked at as if they were the downfall of the free world.

A friend of mine in middle school was tall, lanky, and incredibly insecure with how she looked I am sure. She’d often point out how her naturally high metabolism kept her thighs from touching while she sat down or how her stomach had no pouch while she wore a bikini. Myself, a girl who hit puberty before anyone else and with curves that are oddly ridiculed when you are young, felt that my body was just wrong. It had to be.

So, I restricted my food to the bland, saltless, fatless, almost carb free and sugar free diet of my father. I’d skip breakfast, because if I could conquer the most important meal of the day, I thought, I’d be happy. I’d eat a salad for lunch and drink a huge bottle of water and feel full but sloshy inside. I’d get home at eat a high fiber pita bread, counted to exactly 100 calories, or so sad the packaging, and one whole SlimFast shake which, the bottle said, could replace a whole meal for 200 calories, and then sit, fearing dinner. The best was when there was tons of slightly charred broccoli and unseasoned, tasteless lean ground turkey, cooked in a teaspoon of olive oil, because it tasted so disgusting I didn’t eat it. I was in control. And I was winning.

My family continued to struggle with weight and tell me at every turn just how jealous they were of me; how skinny I was, how little I had to eat, and how good I was about not eating sweets. The validation was incredible. I was always considered the “smart” cousin, but never the pretty one. My parents would wonder aloud how I could possibly be their child if my waist was so small with my dress size to match.

Occasionally, either in a prediction of genetics catching up to me or jealousy, my mother would often ridicule me for wearing “tight fitting clothes” that stretched across my chest (because they were designed like that) or would only buy large or extra large shirts (even if I was a size 2, at best) because I’d “eventually just grow into them.” Horrified by this prospect of taking up any more physical space in the world, growing into something my parents taught me was “ugly,” I tried even harder. I restricted more.

It got to the point that, while I was a senior in high school, I welcomed the flu that left me unable to eat, save for the occasional spoonful of broth and sip of water. I remember weighing myself, which I did at least ten times a day (when I woke up, before I showered, after I showered, with clothes on, with clothes off, before and after meals, before and after trips to the bathroom) I realized I had lost ten pounds in a week. How amazing! All I had to do was have a 104 degree fever and restrict every single part of my diet and I’d never have to worry about fulfilling my mother’s prophecy. I felt wobbly and frail, but my thighs didn’t touch, so I must be doing something right.

Eventually, I headed out to college and began my freshman year at a university in rural Rhode Island. The place was incredibly confining and claustrophobic by the fact that I couldn’t actually leave campus if I wanted to.  I was dating a handsome  yet incredibly shallow man who complimented me only on my body and gave the reasoning that, because I was “so hot” he wouldn’t cheat on me. I was lauded at Thanksgiving and Christmas by my family for not gaining the dreaded “Freshman 15″ which was easy when you were too worried about the calories in beer to drink at parties or stress eat. My parents visited me often and I rarely spent time alone on campus and would often pick up extra shifts of any one of the number of jobs I worked. I filled my time of extreme anxiety and depression with the control that food restriction gave me. I knit so I could relieve pent up anxiety feelings in a positive way. I rarely ate breakfast and often only ate health foods (when I ate any food at all) and survived mostly on quarters of Clif bars and still those wonderful SlimFast shakes that my father, very kindly, gave to me in case I “went hungry” when I didn’t want to eat dining hall food.

I transferred out of that terrible school to a women’s centered college in Boston which had programming, people, and resources that helped instead of hindered me. Still, I was surrounded by predominantly women or people assigned female at birth, who all were at least raised with an expectation of those good unattainable body standards. Lots of friends were still extremely into restricting food and exercising almost to a fault. But something was different. I was much much less depressed and wanted to be participatory in a way that required me to make a change.

When I figured out I was queer and started dating other queer folks, getting rid of the straight cis male gaze, it didn’t magically cure me. I did, however, get to feel a little bit more human than object during my time there. I took active steps to helping myself, because I knew by my junior year of college that this was an issue that wouldn’t be going away on its own and barely eating was making it hard to both stay awake and be present in the things I wanted to do.

As a first step, I decided that I would stop looking at scales all together. It stressed me out too much to know if I was weighing “too much” or “too little” and came to the comfortable understanding that, as long as I fit in this one pair of yoga pants. Or something. I don’t really remember. I stopped telling myself that the world was over if I ate a brownie. Actually, I just kind of started to eat the sweets I think I deserved. Ate good food? Check? Deserving of chocolate? Also check.

And it was hard to swallow, literally, when I saw my hips get even half an inch wider or my collarbone fading more into me. And I panicked and tried to stop eating, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t let myself hurt so much again. I had things to do now and a purpose and a future, not just a controlled environment of people who want to see me stay as small as possible. To “beat” the idea of largeness. To stay sick.

It still sucks. Every single day is a shitty battle with my own brain and body. Sometimes I feel like I’m doing better with it, like treating myself and not feeling like it’s the end of the world. Sometimes, I don’t , like when I use work being “too busy” for me to take a lunch break. 

Recently, I decided I wanted to start eating better and getting into shape by working out again. After a few days of eating healthily, but not adequately calorically, I started to fall down the same rabbit hole again. I need to stop eating carbs and meat and butter and cheese and oil and dessert and drink cold water because it burns more…wait. I had to stop.  

Little steps in the right direction.

Last night, I took a bath and watched my stomach bunch up and I thought to myself, oh god, what have I done? It used to be flat! Now it’s basically flat but there’s fat there. 

My eating disorder is never going to go away. Ever. It’s always going to be a part of me and how I interact with the world around me. Am I happy about this? No, not at all. If I could wish it away, I would.

Recognizing my negative behaviors and forcing myself to overpower them took 8 years and a whole bunch of therapists and friends who support me. There isn’t always some happy ending, but it’s not a sad ending either. In fact, there is no ending, at least not right now. It’s still going.

So that’s my story. Hope it helps or at least does not hurt anyone who has read it. I love you. Thank you for listening. 

[peaceful-serenade]

1-100 ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you, dear! ❤️❤️❤️

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? Spotify

is your room messy or clean? It’s actually clean right now.

what color are your eyes? Brown

do you like your name? why? Not really. Like, it sounds pretty and fitting when I meet other people with it, but for me personally it always just sounds kind of “meh” and boring compared to other names that I love.

what is your relationship status? Single for life.

describe your personality in 3 words or less: caring, introspective, loyal

what color hair do you have? Red

what kind of car do you drive? color? It’s blue and has two doors. That’s literally all I can tell you about it because I honestly don’t pay much attention.

where do you shop? Nowhere in particular.

how would you describe your style? Ideally, classic and comfortable

favorite social media account? Tumblr

what size bed do you have? Twin

any siblings? Yes, one younger sister

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? Paris, because I’ve visited twice and absolutely adore it.

favorite snapchat filter? There was a black and white one ages ago that made me look like I was in a film noir, so that one.

favorite makeup brand(s): I don’t really wear makeup anymore and never had a favorite anyways, so I don’t know.

how many times a week do you shower? It kind of varies.

favorite tv show? Brooklyn 99!! I also love Graham Norton, Broadchurch, Good Behavior, Victoria, and Trial & Error

shoe size? I honestly have no idea.

how tall are you? 5′5″

sandals or sneakers? Sneakers

do you go to the gym? No

describe your dream date: I don’t know about specifics, but my dream date would go well and we would laugh a lot. Maybe over coffee or while doing some fun activity.

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? I think I have like $80 right now?

what color socks are you wearing? I’m not wearing socks.

how many pillows do you sleep with? One, usually. Sometimes two.

do you have a job? what do you do? Not currently.

how many friends do you have? I have Laurel and maybe 3 or 4 other people who would talk to me if I texted them. I don’t really have any friends right now, though.

whats the worst thing you have ever done? I’ve done a lot of horrible things that I still cringe over and regret, but I can’t think of what the worst is.

whats your favorite candle scent? There was an apple pie candle that I used around Christmas that I really loved, but I don’t really have a favorite.

3 favorite boy names: Daniel, William, Damon

3 favorite girl names: Katherine, Elizabeth, Charlotte

favorite actor? Cary Grant, William Powell, David Tennant

favorite actress? Myrna Loy, Audrey Hepburn, Barbara Stanwyck, Jenna Coleman, Keira Knightley, Viola Davis

who is your celebrity crush? Andy Samberg. I specifically put off watching B99 for years because he’s so my type™ that I just knew it would happen but I finally gave in a few months ago and there’s no going back now.

favorite movie? The Thin Man, Roman Holiday, Hidden Figures, Hannibal, The Big Sleep, Angels & Demons, Libeled Lady

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? I’m trying to read more often but my favorite is still “The Sky is Everywhere” by Jandy Nelson followed by anything by the Brontë sisters.

money or brains? Brains

do you have a nickname? what is it? Nic

how many times have you been to the hospital? For myself, zero. To see other people, only two or three times.

top 10 favorite songs: La vie en rose - Edith Piaf, Moon River - Audrey Hepburn/Henry Mancini, In the Grey - The Good Mad, Volare - Dean Martin, Me & the Rhythm - Selena Gomez, Cheek to Cheek, The Lady is a Tramp - Frank Sinatra, White Coats - Foxes, Leaving the City - Joanna Newsom, Into You - Ariana Grande

do you take any medications daily? No

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) Depends on the weather, but it’s mostly oily.

what is your biggest fear? Being unhappy forever.

how many kids do you want? Zero

whats your go to hair style? Lately, a braid or bun.

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) Big? It’s two stories and we don’t use half of it, hence why my mom wants to move.

who is your role model? Selena Gomez

what was the last compliment you received? No idea

what was the last text you sent? I’m too lazy to check, idk

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? I can’t even remember. Probably around second grade?

what is your dream car? I literally could not care less.

opinion on smoking? I personally have no interest but you do you.

do you go to college? I did for a quarter and a half before dropping out because I was miserable.

what is your dream job? No idea

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? Either is fine

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? It depends on where the hotel is (cool city, etc), usually, but yes.

do you have freckles? Yes

do you smile for pictures? Yes

how many pictures do you have on your phone? Thousands. Way, way, waaaaay too many.

have you ever peed in the woods? Maybe on a roadtrip as a kid?

do you still watch cartoons? No

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? Neither

Favorite dipping sauce? Honey mustard

what do you wear to bed? Sweatpants or pajama bottoms and whatever top I feel like wearing

have you ever won a spelling bee? I’ve never participated in one

what are your hobbies? Baking, watching TV? I want to take up painting.

can you draw? Somewhat

do you play an instrument? I played flute in middle school band, but no.

what was the last concert you saw? Selena Gomez last May

tea or coffee? Coffee

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? Starbucks

do you want to get married? Maybe

what is your crush’s first and last initial? I don’t have one

are you going to change your last name when you get married? Maybe? My last name is weird so if it sounds cooler then definitely.

what color looks best on you? Blue or purple usually? I don’t know

do you miss anyone right now? Yeah

do you sleep with your door open or closed? Closed

do you believe in ghosts? Not really

what is your biggest pet peeve? People who are rude, especially to waiters and customer service-type people.

last person you called: My grandparents.

favorite ice cream flavor? Vanilla, red velvet cake, or salted caramel

regular oreos or golden oreos? Regular

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? I don’t really have a preference.

what shirt are you wearing? A white t-shirt with Audrey Hepburn on it.

what is your phone background? A painting of some flowers.

are you outgoing or shy? Usually shy.

do you like it when people play with your hair? Yeah

do you like your neighbors? I like one of them, but I don’t really know any of the others. The one I like and know has lived two doors down almost as long as we’ve been in our house, but everyone else that we used to be friends with has moved.

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? Yes, but infrequently just because I’m super lazy. My skin definitely pays the price for that.

have you ever been high?  No

have you ever been drunk? No

last thing you ate? A donut.

favorite lyrics right now: The entirety of Moon River, probably. I rewatched Breakfast at Tiffany’s again last night so it’s been stuck in my head all day.

summer or winter? Summer

day or night? Night

dark, milk, or white chocolate? Dark or milk

favorite month? June/July or December, I think.

what is your zodiac sign? Aries

who was the last person you cried in front of? My mom and sister, but it was laugh-crying.

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

Saw a tag game that was “unconventional tags”, and I was going to reblog but I wound up having TOO MANY tags per prompt! 

So out of sheer curiosity, I’m going to share what The Entire Selection of Tags with “chocolate”, “kill”, “done”, “try”, “stop”, and “why” is in this post! (Be warned: There are MANY and I only remember the context for about a quarter of these. I was able to dig up 92 tags for “why” alone. But I’m rather curious and analytical, so of course I’d tag a lot of Why’s...... anyways! Here goes! It is LONG.)

Lots of personal considerations, a hefty dose of OC and Titans-related fandom tags, 

Chocolate:

#(but like... chocolate AND cherries....~<33333 )

#I wonder if I could use gluten-free oreos (i.e. ''''chocolate sandwich cookies'''') as the crust instead.... ooooh i'm gonna try that!!

#but I've never had to buy anything and try to sell it besides... like. Malley's Chocolate Bars and other such candy bar fundraisers.

#i was at work for 12 hours but then I got home and went ''FUCK IT'' and ate some chocolate cake and a bagel with eggs???

#Dove will bring her a cup of tea or hot chocolate and sit with her for awhile. Maybe talk through some things with her.

#PB+chocolate can be either GREAT or /awful/ depending on the brand.

#Dark chocolate is more of a Dry and Astringent Texture thing for me.

#It's as essential in my plot ideas as chocolate is in hot chocolate. Just can't possibly make it without it.

#anyways: Peanut butter + chocolate is good. I like the fancy hazelnut spreads with peanut butter swirls.

#Mint+chocolate is good as Andes mints but bad as peppermint patties. Again; it depends on the brand. LOVE it in ice cream!

#i'm suddenly reminded that i bought myself an entire whole-ass chocolate silk pie Because I Wanted It SO BAD

Kill:

#nice to know the life skills i learned at chipotle haven't left me. 8FFFFF

#And I've always obsessively cataloged knowledge of canon. so when I found out all of Raven's half-siblings were killed (or their mothers)?

#Kary has a fairly good Innate sense of direction. but she had to develope a Real Skill for it when she was living feral.

#not the ''i'm gonna kill my favorite protagonist'' part but like. the emotional Twist there

#Anyways any and all Shakespeare except Midsummer Night's Dream bored me to hell. To Kill a Mockingbird INFURIATED me.

#SECONDING The Great Gatsby. I also really hated the ending of To Kill a Mockingbird. The story itself was good but that ending?

#Well I guess he GOT TO KILL HIM AFTER ALL now DIDN'T he

#''DON'T KILL IT I'LL GET IT OUTSIDE IT'S OKAY''

#kill mary-sue witch hunt culture! KILL IT DEAD

#it's Ten Percent Luck and Twenty percent skill if you're referencing the song I think you are but i see your point

#I have a 0.07 skill level when it comes to Playing By Ear and chords. But this is LOVELY so far even if it IS simplified

#it's okay you can say Kill la Kill

#excuse me as I kill my throat from gasp-laughing too harsadddnamfwje

#it wasn't until i literally shouted at a doctor that I was going to kill myself if they couldn't help me that someone actually DID SOMETHING

#you could never kill me in a way that matters

#he's also the only one who Actually tried to kill the Joker. so.......

#did you know bugs feel A Jolt of Pain when you kill them? I don't know what the heck the science-y anatomical cause of that is

#kill the idea that yelling/screaming is Normal and Healthy! Because it's not! It's absolutely NOT.

#But yeah! There's no better way to learn a skill than looking to the people who have already mastered the skills you want to learn.

#''Are you really willing to kill the next George Floyd; the next Breonna Taylor; the next Tamir Rice?''

#those herbs DON'T KILL VIRUSES like alcohol does!!

#''what doesn't kill you makes you stronger'' yeah but it leaves you with Serious Vulnerabilities that you have to spend your

#''Lots of villains.'' ''I will KILL YOU boy!'' GODS

Done:

#for me/aries it's much more the ''i want to fix it then and there and then it's done'' but really I don't play the blame game.

#seriously they've done SO MANY studies on creative hobbies and there are generations of stories from people who've had them

#so really nothing gets DONE about the diagnosis? but he gets Super Curious and reads a TON of articles and studies and books about it

#But let's take stock of how many times I've already done this shall we?~

#nicely done though??

#I can Never Get ENough of writers who've done as much off-novel characterization as Neil and Sir Terry have done with Good Omens

#That was REALLY well done as far as a Mind Games sort of horror story goes

#You shouldn't expect people who have Done a Lot of Growth and Shown a Lot of Potnetial to ForeveR Hide and Eradicate Their Past.

#this webcomic isn't my style personally but it IS really well done and I recommend it to anyone who likes the above things!

#with the tags out of the way: THAT'S BECAUSE 9/!! was PLAYED to THEIR BENEFIT (or: possibly even done by the govt themselves)

#and they pay shit and work us to the bone because they won't staff. But this post is... PROOF that it can be done BETTER.

#''i was born on the way home from the gym and then I will be able to get it done before the end of the day''

#!!! This made ms so HAPPY to see! Pink's speech patterns being recognized and analyzed was... not something i'd ever done before?

#I have to have some things done before my executive dysfunction will let me engage in other tasks or else I get like.... gridlocked?

#kpop fans get things DONE don't DOUBT them

#I have a LOT of trouble recalling when something was Done First or Subsequently. And I absolutely CAN NOT remember dates.

#It's human to need help sometimes and with all you've done for your loved ones

#and once THAT'S done I should be able to post the chapter!!! Which... given that I'm not absolutely mentally exhausted from work anymore

#I can't IMAGINE what I'd have done if I suddenly lost ALL of them and had to fight on alone.......................

#AHHH the idea of Damian adopting a rabbit! And Raven petting it! (house bunny because I refuse to condone illegal wildlife theft)

#they've done it! they've broken my fanfics down to the bare essentials!

#to do so when I see people like this. I'm done letting people back me into a corner and forcing me to cower.

#and between all the reading I've done on humanized superheroes and this show: I know that's basically my favorite trope.

#Enrichment Done Right!!

#Teaching done RIGHT!

#I'll admit: I'm curious to see how Gabriel and Kami actually describe their relationship? Because when it's built up properly and done RIGHT

#okay so I've done some research and this seems to be ACcepted on reddit but Hotly Debated everywhere else

#and it wasn't until Last Year and my sister that I trusted with it was a cosmetologist-- after I'd done SO MUCH work on healing from abuse

#It was the first forest that ever opened its heart to me. The only one that has done so as thoroughly....

#I have written like three quarter-done sex scenes but always drop off it before I get ot the Really Porny Parts because No Interest

#seriously they've done SO MANY studies on creative hobbies and there are generations of stories from people who've had them

#But let's take stock of how many times I've already done this shall we?~

#nicely done though??

#the things she had ACTUALLY said or done to me. Telling them the way she hurt me.

#have you... have you never done that???

#...hmmm... I like the Battle Cry idea. I don't know what my own creaming sounds like though. I've never... done that.

#I can Never Get ENough of writers who've done as much off-novel characterization as Neil and Sir Terry have done with Good Omens

#i scored 33-actually-34 though. the ones i missed were the mother-daughters-grandmothers one-- which I still think it Done Wrong

#can confirm that you Do Get Way More Done when you're well-rested.

#nimue's not driving but she's already so done with it

#it could probably only be done When Angry.

Try:

#i went wild with google translate and ecosia and every search engine i could find TRYING to TRANSLATE ''cotorrito''

#If we're going to take on these forces of arrogance and bigotry: We have to stand UNITED. TOGETHER!

#poetry

#country

#pastry

#And for some reason everyone fucking LOVES it. I know it was an instrumental step in my poetry as it is NOW

#but I know that in poetry after a rhyme happens then te next line is Likely to start a new thought.

#''you're a deep thinker of deep thoughts a reader of poetry and a HEAVY user of your notes app.

#take this quite literally. because the one time i did try asking my STEPmother what was wrong she wound up screaming at me.

#I don't usually watch tiktoks but the comments convinced me to give this one a try and yes. this one Deserved It.

#my mother and I driving around country backroads trying to avoid the highways at midnight on July 4th

#I was going to try buying a gift card but i think that would be cheating a legit business owner out of money and I'm not about that.

#i refuse to give her a tag of her own. i know she Contributed^tm and technically it's not 'bad' poetry but I'm just not a fan personally

#is what I consider to be MY WORST POEM. It even got published in a goddamn poetry collection! What the FUCK.

#actually put your body into starvation mode. And what does the body do when it's starving? TRY DESPERATELY to HOLD ON

#~!America is the Best Country Ever!~ NO ''BEST'' ANYTHING would allow ANY human being to be treated like THAT!

#But the idea is to try finding those things and explore them. Make it fun! MAke it spooky! Make it exciting! Make it startling!

#i'd also have to try finding a time to watch it when someone else in the family isn't already monopolizing the TV....

#(because i'd.... really love to try holding and playing one of these of my own someday.)

#about living a monk-like life? i'd give it a goddamn try if i got literally ANY paid vacation time and had the money to fly to tibet...)

#.....from certain pizza places? I would try it.

#so like. Too LAte ot try it at THIS job

#Not just in stories either; do actually try it someday

#In this country it's basically Impossible to become ANY kind of politician without being am illionaire. Like it's Literally IMPOSSIBLE.

#Like... the thrift store industry is BOOMING right now because a lot of us are Too Poor to Buy Anything Else.

#''bitch TRY it i DARE you''

#sometimes you gotta get it out somehow and a journal entry just doesn't cut it

#i actually only know two lines out of the refrain of that song. But damn if I'm not going to try LEARNING it someday

#i've heard d+ shuts down accounts if you try logging in from new devices (such as my laptop) lately

#...huh. I haven't found a lot of country music before the 90's so I don't know how I feel about this.

#but i definitely agree with the Reasons People ''Hate Country Music Today''.

#(but also The country music style of singing feels like someone is using a cheese grater on my brain. I just... don't enjoy that;;)

#(''lyrics'' referring to the 90s/00s country music I know of. and know i can't stand.)

#(tagged as such because ONE DAY I really REALLY want to try my hand at a Big Gorgeous Absolutely Breathtaking Fish Tank!)

#Oooh I'm definitely going to incorporate that ''try not to leave the room'' when cleaning thing!

#i wish my stories could do that? someday. Someday maybe.... I'll try one of these days.

#Sigh... the Artistry of this crew.

#i can't believe i'm living in the most ragged-on state in the more ragged-on COUNTRY of the entire internet.

#most of the time the people who have the easiest time contacting spirits didn't try or ask for it. The spirits just kinda.... Found Them

#He has the skills necessary to cook. Just not... the Sense of Taste. He has the Artistry part down! Just not the Accuracy.

#((and i have to try REALLY HARD to get an image of what it Looks Like. except in very Rare and Special Moments.

#I'm not usually one for visuals but this quick animation is GORGEOUS and I can't tell you how TEMPTED I've been to try recreating it.

#and Leyla as a kid just wants to TRY STUFF

#i saw amy's shoulders sparkling and i was like! ''i LOVE that. i'd love to try some fairy-goth myself someday''

#Neurochemistry stuff!!

#why is his reaction so aNGRY honestly that was a REAL ACCOMPLISHMENT and some serious artistry she pulled off!

#try swarming a stun deck with THIS on the field. o.o

#tell me what i can tag this because it's absolutely fucking ABYSSMAL of our country to ALLOW this and absolutely FUCK anyone who says

#i'm gonna...... try that popcon one though

#(because my job has me outside in it for at least 3 hours a day no matter what medical history i try to show them)

#might have to try this....

#i'm gonna Try to sleep but i know my hyperficating nexus-steeped mind isn't gonna quiet down very quickly 8O

#for the record i did TRY using the Boolean Operator  syntax with ''low'' blood pressure in quotes. but it STILL gave me articles

#Raven: immediately Exhausts Herself to Hell to Try Undoing It

#yes i'm going to overanalyze and try understand every accusation of Ohio on my dashboard. why do you ask?

#i'm gonna... Try Wearing Make-Up!

#is it weird that i use almistry when drawing my ocs' hands?

#a little piece of her childhood home and her ancestry when the rest of the world and its people died.

#She might be a little embarrassed to share her poetry with people? I think she's pretty good at writing pretty words

#Or... if you feel so inclined: poetry you've written yourself?

Stop:

#but BY ALL the GODS can we STOP mocking and hating the people who DO have all these grand and lofty ambitions?

#stop blaming millennials for our shitty circumstances challenge.

#note to self: stop frekaing FORGETTING to schedule with a GE again!!! fuck's sake!

#stop being elitist because something's Different. it has its merits and it's not meant to be an International Film-Festival Masterpiece.

#(i did a Lot of stupid things at that house actually. there was a reason i stopped working with raphael......)

#except once i got the add diagnosis my teacher stopped commenting on my doodling.

#that cloak was the PERFECT compromise. It kept me a Little Warmer without getting too hot AND did a great job of stopping the too-cold wind~

#we stopped going to the daycare.. (And i know that because i got it for my 5th birthday. i was ENAMORED IMMEDIATELY)

#i've always read it the same way and didn't notice Why Everyone Stopped Liking Her but that also brought that particular Change to light...

#but on the other hand she Literally Accidentally Stopped Time... (And i have this... headcanon? let's call it a headcanon

#for something like stopping the end of  the world: Who (at least: who among HEROES) WOULDN'T put that to use?

#my all-time FAVORITE that I will NEVER skip a song from is Evanescence. HAs been for like 15 years now and that's not stopping.

#i don't foresee this rambling stopping for another 3 days tbh

#creepy guys try to follow you off your stop and get your number no matter how many times (with increasing ferocity) you tell them no.

#but can this fandom stop acting like pink intentionally hurt everyone for like 7 seconds???

#also if you're as powerful as zee it probably comes second-nature so why WOULDN'T you throw it around to stop an argument?

#it's an even split on how many people are willing to stop and talk to you. about one in ten will just outright ignore you if you say Hi

#why not stop at home and drop him off first? why send him into freaking SPACE???

#Don't stop believing. Don't stop moving forward. Don't let depression drag you down.

#do nothing but yell at you and tell you to calm down or shut up or Stop Being Yourself.

#i'm gonna stop before i suffocate on silent laughter but Wow This Is Good

#i can't tell you how many doctors i've been to that literally told me to stop crying when i Became Distressed from relating my symptoms...

#which i don't appreciate! brain stop calling me a wuss

#how do you... Stop Doing That?

#Stop Erasing Raven's Strengths!! Stop making her a stereotypical sitcom caricature! LET RAVEN BE SASSY

#Can people PLEASE stop equating the two things that don't necessarily (or often) go hand in hand?

#they're ALREADY filthy rich just stop fucking catering to them???

#and whenever I went to the bus stop for those mornings: I cawed to him. And rather than flying away as soon as he saw me

#Petition to make the fandom stop forgetting that Blue has a FIERCE side TOO

#i wish this freaking show would stop goddamn KILLING PEOPLE

#i can't stop giggling at that last gif though. oh my stars that's Great

#i... don't want to tag him ''bakura'' anymore because STOP GIVING HIM RYOU'S IDENTITY but at the same time... what ELSE do you call him??

#night-terrors/flashbacks / whatever? She will literally stop herself from sleeping.

#sorry i've made so many posts about this; I just! I can't stop HYPERFIXATING on this ONE DETAIL.

#like I was the kid who'd CRY when someone ripped wings off flies or legs off spiders. ''Stop it that HURTS!''

#but i tend to stop in the middle of books i'm not invested in. which is happening more and more often.

#She'll stop immediately and be like ''okay! let's talk about something else than!!''

#(a terrified telepath is twice as dangerous when she's unconscious and Can't Stop It. She knows that. So when she's having bouts of

#oh STOP it that was sweet!

#i mean you can't stop kids from seeing EVERYTHING. But we should at least be TRYING to protect them. You know?

#trying to help me figure out how to cope. basically everyone was like ''there's no way you don't notice three hours passing stop lying''

#oh my GOD I'm LAUGHING there are tEARS IN MY EYES I just!! I'm DEFINITELY imagining them and I can't STOP LAUGHING OKAY

#How do you stop looking back?

#(And then the night my spirit guide told me to stop LETTING myself be defined by her and that I can rise above my past and my parents...)

#but BY ALL the GODS can we STOP mocking and hating the people who DO have all these grand and lofty ambitions?

#Don't stop believing. Don't stop moving forward. Don't let depression drag you down.

#Stop Erasing Raven's Strengths!! Stop making her a stereotypical sitcom caricature! LET RAVEN BE SASSY

#There's SO MUCH in the Society6 store and all of it is GORGEOUS. I had to physically hold my hands to my chest to stop myself

#How do you.... Stop Needing the Sugar to Function though? I've tried like 4 adhd meds and they all have Awful Side Effects for me. :c

#for the record: salem was really more of just a stop on a field trip across literary and/or historical sites of New England

#can the universe STOP pointing me towards MORE triggers?  P l e a s e ? ?? ?????

#My heart wouldn't stop pounding and I was legitimately QUAKING even after I sat down. Luckily that manager was Compassionate

#until somebody told me to stop probably

#but i can't stop questioning myself. probably because Questioning Myself and Rigorously Guarding My Mind is the only reason I...

#EXCUSE you holy HECK that was!!! I WAS BREATHLESS AND COULDN'T STOP READING?

#Not Being Violent isn't the same as Doing Absolutely Nothing To Stop Shit in the world

#can we stop saying All Sugar Is Bad now? (it doesn't increase insulin resistance until you've consistently eaten A TON of it!)

#i will literally run into a room to stop someone from killing a spider in my vicinity. Cup and paper in hand

#now if they'd stop taking digs at fans who prefer the old show maybe that would actually MEAN something.

#and I'm LEARNING how to talk back to them (''stop talking ABOUT yourself and start talking TO yourself'')

#and do you know what happened to me in Honors English? My teacher literally told me to stop writing so much and stop thinking so hard

#(i will NEver Stop Tagging Change Your Mind as Spoilers by the way because BASCIALLY THE FINALE)

#and i think my eyes are broken because i can't stop tearing up. heck

#...i'm starting to think i should stop using my Anti Fascism tag. just ot be safe

#He doesn't even need to forgive her. But at the very least... can we stop villainizing the one who is the very reason Earth still lives?

#i'm Venting but also Suggestions on Actual Techniques that can make them fucking STOP would be appreciated