my feet were tired

10

“Because you’re mine. You were my umbrella boy, remember? You rubbed my feet when they were tired. And now look at you, the terror of Gotham. Everything I’ve done in my life, possibly the best thing was turning Oswald Cobblepot into the Penguin. I couldn’t destroy that.”
- Fish Mooney, 3x02

“When I met you you were a nervous, jittery loser. You were nothing. I created Edward Nygma. And I am the only one in the world who truly sees you as you are. Who you can still become. You can’t do this.”
- Oswald Cobblepot, 3x14

I have endlessly searched
all the gardens, fields and forests of this world,
to find a flower
identical to the one you gave me.
But it was only when
my feet were too tired
and my head was hurting,
that I realised,
however beautiful
that flower may have been,
it was never
the flower that I was truly seeking,
but rather,
the one who gave it to me.
—  R. Jacob
6

gotham characters (posters series)

Oswald: Why didn’t you kill me? I have gone over that night 1,000 times, and it doesn’t make any sense. Why didn’t you kill me? I would’ve killed you in an instant. Answer me!
Fish: Because you’re mine. You were my umbrella boy, remember? You rubbed my feet when they were tired. And now look at you, the terror of Gotham. Everything I’ve done in my life, possibly the best thing was turning Oswald Cobblepot into… the P e n g u i n. I couldn’t destroy that.

5

“Why didn’t you kill me? I would have killed you in an instant! 

“Because you’re mine. You were my umbrella boy, remember? You rubbed my feet when they were tired and now look at you. ’The Terror of Gotham!’ Everything I’ve done in my life, possibly the best thing, was turning Oswald Cobblepot into The Penguin. I couldn’t destroy that.”

GUys. I- I’m crying.

When I started this blog, it was a backlog of prompts for myself when I had no ideas of what to write. Yesterday, at exactly 10:47 pm, I walked home from my 4 hour waitressing job and cried when I opened my phone. Yes, my feet were tired and yes,  I was exhausted from fake smiling and telling people I’d “Be with them in one moment”, to only go to the kitchen and find what seemed like a million dishes- that wasn’t the reason I cried. Walking home and opening Tumblr, I tried to regain some strength as I knew we had visitors at home and I didn’t want to seem impolite. If I had’ve lived closer to London, I’d probably be within the remnants of a car collision by now- basically I stopped walking whilst crossing the road and started to cry :) You did that to me- I COULD’VE DIED. 

Honestly, I’m so grateful for every single one of you, you’re all so incredible and I can’t believe there are people who’ve stuck around for over 2 minutes. I’m not all that great and a little rough around the edges, but I’m trying my hardest and I don’t really think I’d even be around if it weren’t for all your love and support. I’m so grateful and I can’t thank you enough.

So, my beautiful geniuses, I will graciously ask for one last favour- Keep writing. You could start with an idea and end up with a following of 10,000, or you could transform that idea into another form of media. Never stop doing what you love, not for anyone. Your passions will last longer than most things, so please pursue them. If you’ve only just started writing, if you’re 4 books deep or maybe only just learning English- Keep going. One day you’ll get more than you wished for, or (In my case) something you didn’t even wish for. You each deserve every star in the sky, a billion cookies and all the things that make you happy. I’d jump at the chance to meet you all. Thank you so much for being the most talented, admirable, beautiful and lovely following anyone could ever ask for.

I love you all more than you could ever imagine, I’m so lucky to have such a incredible internet family. All my love and thanks and best cookies, Yasmine xox

Halloween 2017 #4: How To Get More Candy On Halloween

Length: Short

I walked down the cellar stairs, careful not to trip over the trails of my ghost-costume dangling around my feet.

The basement was dark, but I knew my way. I reached the center and dumped my stash of Halloween candy on the floor, relieved that the weight was finally off my arms.

Hairy tentacles crept out of the darkness and swirled around the treasure pile of gumballs, M&Ms and tootsie rolls.

I sat and watched as everything was eaten; wrappers and all. I hoped this would be the last run I had to do tonight. My feet were throbbing from all that trick-or-treating.

My hopes for a reprieve were dashed when I heard the voice utter a singular command.

“More.”

“I can’t get more,” I said. “Halloween is almost over!”

There was no use trying to be rational. I tried to explain that I’ve visited some houses three times tonight and people were starting to recognize my costume.

But the hunger was insatiable.

“MORE!”

I dared not refuse. There were consequences to disobeying.

So, I set out again. I was on the verge of tears as I was tired and my feet were aching. It was late so I couldn’t venture far and I already knocked on all the nearby houses in the neighborhood. People who recognized my costume told me to beat it, thinking I was some greedy kid trying to double-dip.

I did the only thing I could do. I changed out of my ghost costume.

I knocked on the door of a house I had visited twice before.

The elderly lady that lived there opened the door and greeted me with a smile.

“Oh ho!” she exclaimed. “What are you supposed to be?”

“I am N’phar,” I stated. “Child of N’Thalpa, Eternal Queen of the Void…”

“I see….Well, I must say, your costume is….urm…rather impressive! Here you go dearie. Why don’t you take the rest of my candy? I was going to close up for the night anyways.”

I couldn’t believe my good fortune! Several houses had the same reaction. Some even took my picture with their cell phones. I returned to the cellar with a stash of candy that was three times as big as the previous ones.

She was pleased at first, but when she saw that I had discarded my costume, she quickly grew enraged. N’Thalpa, my mother, had given me strict instructions to never reveal my true self to others.

“It is not our time!” She bellowed.

I dutifully awaited my punishment while mother gorged on the latest batch of candy. If I was lucky, she would devour me and I would be reborn again, in another time, - provided of course - that she still needed me to bring her candy.

If I was unlucky, I would not be reborn at all, which would be a shame, because…I was starting to like Halloween.

Credits to:  MechDog2395 (story)

Mr. Grabs

Mr. Grabs’ house was at the dead end of Alexander Lane. There was nothing weird or off about it from the outside.  All of the haunted houses in movies are dilapidated or covered in cobwebs.  But Mr. Grabs’ house was a typical ranch style suburban eyesore.  The outside was a pale brown.  There were three little plastic gnomes arranged haphazardly in the front yard. A wind chime hung from the gutter. It could have been anyone’s house, but lore dedicated it to Mr. Grabs.

In reality it was probably just some shit hole house that no one wanted.  But that’s not the stories we told as kids.   It must have been passed down from generation to generation, because even my parents knew the story of Mr. Grabs. He was a legend in our little town. No one liked going anywhere near his house.  I had a friend, Ronald, who lived on the same street.  And if we kicked the ball a little too close to the abandoned house we just let it go.  It was his now.  The house was littered with Frisbees, baseballs, and other childhood memorabilia.

This is the Mr. Grabs story: Basically, 100 years ago, a bunch of pedophiles moved into town.  They all lived on Alexander Lane.  The town’s people didn’t like this, and burned all of their houses down (with them inside of course).  But one house didn’t burn.  That house belonged to Mr. Grabs.  He was worst of the bunch.  Not only would he abduct children, but he would also murder them in all sorts of disgusting ways.  Legend has it Mr. Grabs still lives there, haunting the property, and grabbing any child who ventured too close.

Obviously this was a stupid story.  Not only did it make no sense (this house was clearly not built 100 years ago) but no mass migration of pedophiles ever happened to our town.  But it was a good way for us to scare each other as kids. One time we got Ronald to open the door to his house and step inside.  He came out right away squealing with fear and we all ran away.

I grew up and soon had a family of my own.  I had three kids – two boys (Aiden and Preston) and girl (Malia).  I heard the older boys whispering about Mr. Grabs to try and scare Malia.  Apparently in the new stories Mr. Grabs was a vengeful spirit who had to kill little kids to stay alive.  I chided the boys for their lies.  But Malia wasn’t fazed.  She had always been a brave girl.

Malia was seven when she joined Girl Scouts.  She loved being outside and building things with the other girls.  I was the resident den mother (even though I’m a man.)  I took the girls on camping trips and taught them how to make birdhouses.  It was actually really fun.  Aiden and Preston were more interested in video games than scouting, so Malia was the one I spent most of my time with.

But Girl Scouts was not just fun and games.  It was also COOKIES.  I wasn’t looking forward to this.  I knew I would have to become a cookie peddler to my coworkers and family.  But I accepted the inevitability of the situation. Plus it would teach Malia about business and accounting, which I supposed were good skills to have.

It was our first day of cookie selling.  We woke up extra early (her decision) so we could walk around the neighborhood before any of the other girls got there.  I knew we were going to have some grumpy neighbors.  But seeing Malia dressed up in her little sash made it all okay. I mean, who could be angry at an excited seven year old?

We left the house at 6am.  I tried to convince her to let the neighbors sleep a little longer, but she was determined. She was so cute – a tiny little firetruck with big bushy braids.  She told me sternly that I was to wait at the sidewalk.  She would knock on the doors and get the orders.  I was basically her backup.  This was fine with me.  

We went around our street first.  Most people didn’t answer (I could have told her that.)  The few who did were either super chipper and awake, or extremely annoyed but hiding it well.  We got a few orders.  Soon we branched out to neighboring streets.  Malia was having a great time.  Every time she got an order she would do a little dance that nearly broke my heart.  I loved my daughter so much.

It was around 9am when we found ourselves on Alexander Lane.  I was well past the age when I believed in Mr. Grabs, but my tired feet were telling me to go home.  “Mally, let’s head back,” I pleaded.

“No daddy! I need one more order and then I’m at a hundred!”  She gave me a peck on the cheek and it gave me a bit more energy.

We knocked on a bunch of doors but they were all no-answers.  Malia knocked on Ronald’s old house and I could see him peek through the window shades but then disappear.  We made it all the way down to the dead end.  The only house left was Mr. Grabs’.

Malia strode up confidentially.  I grabbed her shoulder instinctively.  She looked at me with a smile.  “You don’t believe in Mr. Grabs, do you daddy?”  She laughed at me.

I smiled kindly.  “No! It’s just that no one lives there.”

“How do you know?”  Malia was very smart.  She gave me her best teacher impression.

“I guess I don’t know.”  I went to tickle her but she danced out of the way.

“Don’t worry daddy, I’ll be fine!”  

Malia skipped up onto the yard.  I had never seen anyone get this close to the house other than that one time as a kid. My childhood creeped up my neck. Even though logically I knew no one was in there, it still felt wrong to see her walk up to the porch.  She pranced up the steps and knocked loudly on the door.  She turned around to flash me a smile.

The door opened.  A long, thin arm reached out, clamped down on Malia’s shoulder, and pulled her into the house.  Then the door slammed shut.

I screamed something and ran up to the house.  My fears be damned, someone had grabbed my daughter!  I burst through the door and yelled for Malia.  There was only silence.  No one was there.

I stamped around the house threateningly.  “I’ll fucking kill you!”  I had just seen the person grab her, so they had to still be in the house. But I searched the entire place. It was empty.  There was no furniture, no nothing.  Not even any dust.  It was just a vacant shell of a house.

I stood in what must have been the living room.  Frantically I called the police.  

“911, what’s your-”

“Someone took my daughter!”

“Sir, where are you?”

“I’m in Mr. Gr…I’m on Alexander Lane.  The house at the end.”

“Sir, if this is a prank, I have to let you know-”

“It’s not a fucking prank!  Send someone here now!  She’s in trouble!”

I heard sirens in the distance.  Our town isn’t big, the police were there in minutes.  I tried to call my husband Marc but he must have turned off his phone.  I sat on the front step in complete disbelief. Something had taken Malia and I had no idea who, or what it was.

The police took my story.  I explained everything that happened.  They asked if I’d been drinking, which of course I hadn’t been.  They asked if maybe Malia had run off.  I screamed at them that I saw someone take her!  They treated me like I was insane.  Maybe that’s how I sounded.  But I could still see that sickly thin arm reach towards my baby.

While I was being questioned my phone rang.  It was Marc.  I picked up instantly, in tears.

His voice was concerned.  “Whoa, sweetie, calm down.  Tell me what happened.”

“It’s Malia…”

“What about her?”  Marc was always so level headed.  His words were so kind.

“Someone took her, Marc.  Someone grabbed her and now she’s gone.”  I was sobbing into the phone.  I hated myself for losing her.  I knew Marc would hate me too.

But he just paused for a moment.  “Landon…Malia is home with me.”

I choked. “What?”

“Malia is home with me.  She got here a few minutes ago.  She said you two got separated or something?  She says she’s been looking for you for hours.”

I dropped the phone.  The policeman looked at me like I had just shot someone.  I swallowed.  This couldn’t be true.  I had spent the last three hours with Malia.  I looked around for the clipboard with the orders but realized Malia had it when she was grabbed.  I peered up helplessly.  Marc was screaming on his end of phone trying to figure out what was going on.

The policeman drove me home.  I didn’t have words.  He had picked up the phone to speak with Marc.  He tried to question me further but I didn’t say anything.  We drove to the house in silence.  I got out of the car and standing on the porch was Marc in tears.

Malia was peeking out from behind him.

Except that wasn’t Malia.

I froze. Marc came rushing towards me, arms outstretched.  But I was staring at the thing pretending to be my daughter.  It cocked its head at me and then raised a single finger to its lips. “Shhh” it motioned to me.  Marc swept me up in a hug.  But I was far away, watching the thing pretending to be Malia as it bit down on its finger, blood bubbling around its teeth.  Then it turned and went into the house.

Marc shook me.  “What’s going on?”  His face was full of love and fear.

“I don’t know,” I replied despondently.

Marc put me in the shower and tucked me into bed.  It was agreed that I had some sort of mental break.  I just stared at the wall.  Nothing made sense, but I knew for certain that my daughter was not the thing laughing outside my door.

I laid in bed for five days.  Marc tried to tempt me out with my favorite foods.  He did everything he could to make me feel safe and supported.  But nothing worked.  I just stared ahead.  Nothing felt real anymore.  

Once he offered to have the kids come in and cheer me up.  I screamed at him and threw a pillow.  I couldn’t stand to see that mockery wearing Malia’s likeness. Poor Marc.  He suffered through all of this with as much as confusion as me.

On the fifth day I had a visitor.  Marc knocked softly on my door.  He came in, worried.  “Landon, I know you need some space right now.  But there’s someone here to see you.  She said she has some comforting words for you.”

A woman made her way into the bedroom.  I blinked with recognition.  She was Ronald’s mom.  I hadn’t seen her in many years but I remembered her face.  She smiled sadly at me.  “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

I considered it for a second.  I wasn’t particularly close with this woman.  I only knew her as the mother of my childhood friend.  Stiffly I nodded for her to sit.  

Marc’s eye darted to each of us.  “Should I stay?”

“No,” I said curtly.  The woman sat on the edge of the bed.  Marc looked a bit hurt by the whole thing.  He closed the door soundlessly.

Ronald’s mother stopped smiling the minute the door was shut.  She looked me dead in the eye.  Her voice was like a bed of nails.  “Tell me what happened.”

I coughed. Even though my throat felt like sand I knew I needed to answer her.  “Malia knocked on the door of that house, and someone pulled her in.”  I didn’t feel tears this time.  Just a white hot anger.

The woman nodded.  “And how do you explain your daughter being home right now?”

My face felt as though it were made of rock.  “That isn’t my daughter.”

Ronald’s mother inched closer.  Her head was so close to my own I smelled the mint of her toothpaste.  When she spoke her voice oozed hatred.  “The same thing happened to my Ronnie after you kids played your stupid fucking game.  That thing that came home…it wasn’t him.”  She straightened.  

“Ronald…”

“You learn to live with it.  You learn to accept that your child is never coming back.”  She stood up emotionlessly.  “Everyone will call you crazy if you say anything.  You will lose your other children.  Your husband.  Just stay quiet and pretend.”

I got out of the bed desperately.  “But Malia must be out there somewhere!”

“She’s with him now.”  The woman reached into her jacket and produced a note.  “This arrived the day of Ronnie’s 18th birthday.” She grasped the paper tightly and then dropped it on the floor.  Without another word she left.

I looked after her.  My body felt as though it were about to give up.  I knelt down and smoothed out the paper.  It read:

“Hope you enjoy the replacement.  I have been enjoying your son immensely.  Too bad they grow up so fast.  –M.G.”

On Penguins in Love

Okay, so this has been bouncing around my skull for a bit, let me see if I can lay it out coherently:

The first time I watched Gotham episode 3x14, I was struck by the moment on the docks when Oswald tells Ed that he was nothing before Oswald came along, just a “jittery loser”.  It felt a little jarring, even given the extreme emotional pressures that Oswald was under…

… but then I realised what it reminded me of.

Keep reading

Coffee House

I listened to Save Myself by Ed Sheeran, while writing this if you wanted something to listen to. 

Request: Could you write something about Bucky seeing her with a new guy a week after the breakup. (I made it three weeks, but if you want it to be one week it can still be that. I didn’t make it like specifically important for it to be three weeks)

Requested by: @wxnters-rebel 

Warnings; Um yikes not many, just super sad

Word Count; 1486 

Characters; Bucky, Steve, Y/N, Wanda, Alex

Request for a part two!!!


Keep reading

It’s true: third year is way better than M1/M2.

My fellow preclinical colleagues, I am here bearing the good news that M3 is about two million times better than M1 and M2.  I had heard this rumor, but was hesitant to hope it was true, only to be disappointed.  I’ve been an M3 for one month, and I already love life/humans/me/nature more than I have since medical school started.  Here’s why:

  • You actually see patients.  This is probably the most obvious point of all, but it can’t be emphasized enough.  You get to walk into hospital rooms or exam rooms, and be the first one to talk to a patient, who is actually sick and not an actor pretending to have symptoms like M1/M2 simulations.  Then comes the craziest part of all: you need to tell the patient what the plan is, what’s going to happen to them, and what you are going to do to make them better.  I go to a really small medical school and am often the only medical student on a service, so I get a lot of freedom and responsibility when it comes to patient care. I never make the final call with patient care plans, but often my plan is the right one (especially when its a simple plan like IV hydrating a dehydrated infant, ordering CBC and BMP, and watching I/Os overnight). 
  • You move around.  My first 2 weeks of inpatient peds I would come home each night in pure agony.  My feet were so sore, my back was broken, and I was so tired I went to bed within 2 minutes of lying in my bed.  But then you get used to actually moving around most hours of the day, and you realize how damn stagnant you had become M1/M2 years.  Now I feel like a normal person again who can walk most of the day, stand and round, etc without experiencing musculoskeletal distress.  Realizing how minimally you moved for the last 2 years is scary, but M3 year lets your body physically work again.  I feel happier and healthier just because of the fact I move my limbs an acceptable amount of time each day without sacrificing study time.
  • Gone are the long lonely days of you and your books for 8-12 hour stretches.  This is good and bad news.  It’s bad news because thats really the only way all of us know how to study.  It’s good news because that actually really sucks and you no longer have to dread Saturdays that are synonymous with “solitary confinement.”  It definitely takes some getting used to (and I’m still not used to it), but you study in 1-2 hour blocks at home and in 10-15min intervals on the wards.  It’s weird, but it’s just not as terrible as those long swaths of time where you needed major willpower to watch your 10th Pathoma video in 1 day.

So far, third year is better. So much better.  You can actually see yourself being a doctor one day and the work you do finally seems aligned with your final goal.  Study hard pre-clinical friends, and know that it ends so soon (amen!) and it gets so much better =)

Ghost Story Time

So we had to leave town at like 3 to get to Lincoln at 430 for dinner to make it to the venue by 530.  Mike wasn’t very excited, he generally doesn’t like going to shows, especially since it was like 982° outside.  We got to the restaurant and Mike was *dramatically* STARVING and couldn’t wait to eat.  So he ate so fast and ended up feeling like garbage, and had to take a whore’s bath bc there was all sorts of food in his beard 🙄 

Once we were done eating we had like 15 minutes to get to the venue like 5 blocks away.  We ran into @fanthem and @papasdeathblossom  Which is hilarious bc no matter what city we see Ghost,  I always manage to see them randomly.  Only this time Kim shouted my name instead of my url, so it wasn’t as funny, but less awkward for the person I was with 🤣

We chatted for a minute and they had to pee, and we had to get to the ticketbooth to check in.  I was freaking out,  and it was just so hot I felt gross.  Obviously I was wearing h2t black, which is super smart.  The ticketbooth lady was a gigantic cunt and said they didn’t have any Ghost stuff yet and I’d have to wait.  So about 15 minutes later the guy came out and checked us in and such.  We brought our stuff back to the car, like 8 blocks away and it was just so hot out.  I’m gonna say that a lot, so get uses to it now 👌

We still had tons of time to kill before we had to be back at the venue so we went to this soda shop thing across the street. It was weird, Mike googled hobby stores hoping for a nerd shop near by and it showed up.  There were like cardboard cutouts and some pop culture nerdy things in the window, but it was a ruse.  It was all soda and like weird candy.  Mike got this cherry soda that resembled cloraseptic spray and I almost puked when I tasted it.  He loved it though, so he’s gross. I really just wanted water bc it was fucking gross outside, but this soda shop literally own sold pop, no water in sight

We had so much time to kill, still,  so we went to the Pinnacle and just kind of people watched for 30 minutes.  We saw this old dude flip out (in a good way) bc he saw some little kid, prob like 7, wearing one of his dad’s old Maiden shirts.  Like this dude was almost in tears because he was so stoked that this little kid was wearing a vintage shirt.  The kid was so happy and the dad was happy, and I was like almost crying bc feelings and such.  It was nice, and one of my favorite parts of the whole night 

I’m gonna backtrack, so after we got our vip merch I wanted to stop by the merch stand to get the Popera shirt to bring back to the car with the other stuff.  While in that line we encountered *that guy.  You know, the guy at every event ever that has no concept of personal boundries,  loves the sound of his own voice more than breathing, and just hates when people are content without talking.  So TG (that guy), grabbed my arm and was looking at my tattoo, which isn’t anything new…people think it’s okay to do that for some reason.  But he asked if I had any other Ghost tattoos, so I showed him my Ghoul elbow and he lost his mind.  Then he was asking if I’ve heard of any of their other bands, so I said yeah,  bc I do?  Idk why I was even engaging in the convo bc I def shouldn’t have. I opened up a goddamn can of worms 😒🔫   

So he’s talking about all the previous ghouls and I was barely stringing along any sort of response.  He started talking about Mauro, but kept saying Mario.  I didn’t want to be a cunt, so I didn’t correct him.   In hindsight I wish I would have bc he was just lingering around for the entirety of the m&g and the annoyingness continued to escalate.  

So we went back to the car, did the soda shop thing, people watched for a bit, and then it was about 5 minutes after we were suppose to meet where we were already standing.  TG shows up and I was just like god.fucking.damn.it. 😬 so he was like saying who was competition and who wasn’t, like that’s a normal thing to do

They took us to where we were doing the m&g, and I ended up stuck in line behind TG, which was a fucking bummer.  Luckily it was cold down there bc I was so swampy and gross from being outside, wearing all black 🖤  so I’m quietly talking to my husband, and everybody is doing the same with whoever they came with or met in line.  *sidenote: there was a guy with skeleton paint on that was  just mowing down on pizza and beer prior to us being taken to the m&g area and I was somehow fascinated with it…as if he was an actual skeleton eating pizza and drinking beer*

Sooo..TG decides it’s just way to quiet for him to be left alone with his thoughts and in a whole room of people just NOT hearing his voice.  So he starts asking those annoying Ghost questions and literally mentions everything that makes me roll my eyes.  He mentions Dave Grohl, Blue Öyster Cult, where is Ghost going, how Meliora is a masterpiece, and all sorts of other shit…and to top it off, he kept saying Opius instead of Opus, and I wanted to die. I mean he pulled his pants down and took a shit on my favorite Ghost album 😠 His friend could see how annoying he was being and how irritated the entire room was so he kind reeled in the crazy.  Then TG made a sad, quiet statement that the room was just too quiet.  Idk man, he was awful and I couldn’t get away bc it was a line and just ugh.  Once Papa came out and went in the little tent thing, TG started taking more.  He turned around and spotted my rosary and asked where I got it.  So I told him I made it and he did one if those hand gestures where his head explodes and just kept saying wow???  It was fucking weird, and Mike looked like he was about to just Mortal Kombat *finish him* bc he hates people like TG,  which we all do so it’s whatever.  Oh my god, then it was FINALLY MY TURN!  I pulled a baggie out of my back pocket with the guitar picks I made for the ghouls, and my heart was beating out of my chest.  I asked George if he could give them to the other guys.  Realizing that it was a rolled up baggie, and it was quite sketchy, I told him that it was guitar picks for each of the Ghouls, and asked if I could give Papa his in the tent.  He said, very unimpressed with the rolled up baggie, “sure I guess so” and I felt like an idiot.  But here’s the thing,  everybody is like just find Billy Vanilla, he’s like the Rafiki of Ghost.  So he’s clearly not a real person bc I’ve been to 4 different shows and I’ve never once seen him.  It’s some sort of elaborate scheme that some of y'all are in on 😂 but whatever, keep the lie alive.  

Anyway, it’s finally out turn to go in and I’m just trying not to throw up.  It was much more intimidating with Papa in his papal robes and not that stupid suit.  I shook his hand for what seemed like an uncomfortable about of time, but like his black leather gloves are just everything and I didn’t want to let go.  Now y'all know I have a thing for those gloves and it was fucking unreal to touch them irl😵 Then I finally gave him the guitar pick.  I told him I made it and 5 matching ones with corresponding symbols.  So I looked around and realized how dark it was and said “ugh, it’s probably too fucking dark to see it in here though”…so he grabbed it and then sort of held it up and shook his head, then he leaned down to look at it in the purple spot light thing and said “rats” and that’s when I almost died because he’s fucking cute and so adorably dorky.  So if it weren’t for Mike I would have just stood there for the photo.  I was super frozen and had no idea what to do.  Mike then said to Papa “we were wondering if you could bless our baby and he put his hand on my belly and Papa’s eyes lit up and his voice changed from his hokey accent to a more genuine tone and said “of course, congratulations”.  It was so incredible,  I mean he was so genuine and he said congratulations like 9 times.  HE PUT HIS HAND ON MY BELLY and we took the photos.  I almost lost my mind, I mean… Papa’s black, leather gloved hand was touching my belly and I just 😱😱😱 

So the did the two photos and asked if we wanted two more since there were to two of us, and we said no these are fine.  Papa shook our hands again and when he shook mine I did the thing where I out my other hand on top of his and he looked me in the eyes and said in his real voice congratulations again, and then he said “this is fantastic”.  I started to tear up, but I kept my shit together 🙃 

After that we watched the show and it was amazing.  I was one of the only people in my section standing up for their set, and I was sort of bummed bc it wasn’t as fun as it usually is surrounded by people having as much fun as you are.  Anyway, Fire and Air both pointed at me at a few different parts.  It was pretty cool. My crush on Fire intensified the second the show started.  He’s fucking wild y'all.  He’s so fun to watch.  Him and the other two of the trinity have such a connection and stage presence.  They are so good!  It was so amazing and ended far too soon. When the show was over they were bowing and waving bye, Fire kept pointing to this one guy in the audience and doing the smoking a joint gesture at the dude, and then the dude realized he was the guy, Fire did a big cheesey 👍👍 which was adorable, and then I said “have mercy” 100% out loud and I blame @infernalghuleh for that 

Maiden was so good.  I’ve been wanting to see them since I was like 12, which is longer than some of you have been alive, so it was quite the evening.  Bruce is a fucking maniac, and he’s so fun to watch live.  We left after Fear of the Dark, which was a mutual agreement before the show.  That’s our fav song, and I just couldn’t stand anymore.  My feet were swollen and I was so tired.  Which is nuts bc prepregnancy me was never tired at a concert.  I also had to work Monday morning and it was already 11, and we had over an hour long drive home.

Mike talked the entire 1 hour and 20 minutes it took to get home about how much fun he had.  He asked how Olive was doing and I told him she was kicking and moving the entire time, especially when we met Papa and then again when Cirice was playing.  He said it was our first concert as a family and squeezed my hand, and I cried bc I’m a hormonal maniac these days.  

The next morning he texted me at work and said “Thank you so much for challenging my inhibitions and anxieties about going to stuff like that. I will never forget last night. I love you so much!” (Literally just copy & pasted that)😭😻💚

So, I wrote an essay…which is weird bc I’m usually not long winded at all 😎 

If you’ve read this far, thanks for sticking around for my Ghost story, and I hope it entertained you in one way or another 💜

Dreaming in Silver and Gold

CHAPTER 19, Klaus/Liz, Rated: E

Prologue \ Ch. 1 \ Ch. 2 \ Ch. 3 \ Ch. 4 \ Ch. 5 \ Ch. 6 \ Ch. 7 \ Ch. 8 \ Ch. 9 \ Ch. 10 \ Ch. 11 \ Ch. 12 \ Ch. 13 \ Ch. 14 \ Ch. 15 \ Ch. 16 \ Ch. 17 \ Ch. 18 \ Ch. 19  \ Ch. 20 \ Ch. 21 \ Ch. 22

Demon au requested by @his-beloved-mrs-mikaelson thanks for getting my butt back in gear and giving me awesome prompts. <3

Keep reading

Reflection:

So, in general, I’ve lost 80 pounds since April 19th, 2017. And, since I’m not going to be tracking from tomorrow (2017/12/25th) onward to New Year’s Eve (2017/12/31st) and also with no weigh-in for next week, I wanted to give myself a bit of perspective.

I’ve been thinking of writing this post because, when I got past the 70 pounds lost mark, the progress in how I physically felt majorly curbed - and those changes were the most amazing part! So, I want this reminder (to myself) about how I’m not going back. 

This is how losing weight has done;

Losing Weight has:

Eased how tired my feet were,
Made it easier on my knees to go up and down (stairs, sitting to standing),
Gave my hips and lower back a break,
Improved my cardio, significantly, without any exercise,
Enabled me to be mobile (walking, twisting, bending, etc),
Increased my agility and balance,
Made it easier for me to breath (awake and asleep),
Minimized all stomach aches and sickness/illness,
Basically obliterated the interruptions in my sleep (no more exertion to roll-over),
Given me physical energy to prepare meals and do other basic tasks (showering, etc),

And, last but not least, losing weight has given me more space to exist in and more ways to move without strain or extra exertion. Just walking around home is so EASY NOW compared to how it was! 

It’s also made it possible for my body to be a tool of expression instead of a cage; weight loss has given me a physical reflection, a receipt, of these benefits, too.

I am anxious to reach my goal weight. :D


I also want to thank those who have been so sweet to me on here.

Thank you for your time! Good holidays!

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David @ the Imperial Oct 2017

This is the second time today that I am writing this review. After spending a precious hour writing it up, I was on the last sentence when I accidentally hit a wrong key and the page closed. Now I have to try and recreate what I wrote. To say that I want to cry is putting it mildly.  After I wrote it a second time (this time in Notepad), I started copying the text over and adding pictures. I was halfway through when Firefox froze. Sigh. Here we go again.

When I found out that David was going to perform in Vancouver, I decided to book a two-week trip for my annual vacation. I live in Montreal and I have never visited Canada’s west coast, which is practically sacrilege.;) It was on my must-visit list for quite some time. I am so pleased that I finally got to go. This review will cover more than just David’s show because for me it was also about meeting the people who this amazing man has brought into my life.

Three days before the show, I met Mary for the first time. Some of you may know her - @super-infinite-possibilities. We have been communicating via Tumblr since last fall. She is a recent Canadian transplant via Ireland. There is always some trepidation when meeting someone in “real life.” I have been through this many times since 2005 and sometimes you just don’t click outside the computer. I was hoping that our online chemistry would translate in the outside world and I’m happy to report that it did. :)  She is a total sweetheart and someone I am proud to call a friend. We sat in a coffee shop and chatted nonstop for a couple of hours. Here we are at the concert. 


The day before the concert

Mary and I met some fellow fans for dinner. Pam @pjstafford from Albuquerque had driven in with her friend Cathy @xfilesobsession  from Seattle and Mary’s friend Angie @angiep2504 who had flown in from Belgium. It was fantastic to talk and laugh with fellow David fans about this incredible man, the X-Files, and whatever else popped into our heads. They are all super ladies! The dinner happened to be on Mulder’s birthday, too. Pictures here: http://greeneyes0526.tumblr.com/post/166402581882/celebrating-mulders-birthday

Concert Day

M&G ticket holders were told to arrive at the venue for 6:30. I knew that fans would start lining up early. I wanted a front row spot, but my feet were tired from a week of nonstop sightseeing so I only arrived at the venue at 5:15. I was pleasantly surprised to find a small amount fans lined up. I did end up in the front row, which came at an intermittent cost. Because the concert was being filmed for a documentary, there were two guys filming/taking pictures and one of them always seemed to move right in front of my camera when I wanted to record my favourite songs. When I wasn’t filming, they were no where near me. I got annoyed during Heroes because I wanted to film the entire thing. In the grand scheme of things, this was not a big deal. David was on stage so IT WAS ALL GOOD!

Meet & Greet 

When David came out for the M&G, he looked SO GOOD! Good enough to eat. He laughed at something and his entire face lit up. I can’t even describe how this made me feel. I said to Pam and Cathy that he looked like he did 20-25 years ago. Laughter took years off his face. I wish someone had captured that moment. It was totally precious. At this point my stomach, or a point farther south of my stomach, was all a-tingle. ;) I’m sure most of you already know how the M&Gs went. He said hi, shook my hand (wow, soft!), asked me my name - I said Maria from Montreal and he said, interesting name. LOL. I’m a dork. Then we took the picture ((HUG)). I asked him where Brick was, and how Brick was the real VIP and should be the one taking pictures with the fans (of course I was kidding) and David chuckled. :) He said that Brick was asking for too much money and he couldn’t afford to pay him what he was asking. He told me to enjoy the show. I wished him a great show and he thanked me. Yes, it was brief, but for me it was magical. Look at his smile. I am framing this one.


Meeting the band

I was on a mission to meet his band. I didn’t have to wait too long because after sound check, Colin and Pat wandered onto the floor. They are both super nice. Pat is the happiest guy with a megawatt smile! He told Mary and I that he has a project in the works so keep your eyes and ears peeled. He is very talented. They all are!

Angie, me, and Mary with Colin.

The Concert

I’ve read reviews from other fans who commented that they were underwhelmed by the experience. Everyone is entitled to feel how they feel. My feelings are the total opposite. Acoustic sets are meant to be stripped down, relaxed, reflective and emotive. It would not be a high-energy show like he did in New York City. David delivered the kind of performance that I was expecting and I thoroughly enjoyed it. He did half of HOH and half of ETT, plus three covers. He ended the night with a 4-song encore that included his fabulous rendition of Bowie’s Heroes, over which I am still salivating.

I read that nasty review (I don’t have the link, I read it on my laptop which I don’t use when I am home) and was stunned that the critic said that David was intoxicated. It never crossed my mind that David was intoxicated nor do I believe that he was. Did he have a drink or more? Of course he did. It wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. But he was in no way drunk. After reading the entire review, it seems to me that Mr. Critic is a David hater because he basically ripped him to shreds. Whatever dude. Those who can’t are jealous.

My feet were killing me, but I would’ve happily stood there for another two hours listening to him. I love the way he emotes when he sings. He puts his whole heart into it.  Yes, as others have said, he didn’t interact with the audience the way he normally does, but again, documentary. It didn’t bother me. I was thrilled to be there and we made eye contact once and my legs almost gave out on me.  I enjoyed his commentary, which he delivered with his typical dry wit. I’ve been asked by several fans if I think he was serious when he made the, “Those who call my dancing dad dancing, stop it. I don’t like that shit,” comment. I think he was. Others might disagree. The comment did make me laugh because he had a pout on when he said it. I don’t even know what dad dancing is. I never heard the term until I started seeing it on Tumblr. To me his dancing shifts from cute to hot, depending on how he’s moving. I don’t see a dad. I see a hot 57 year old man. ;) Another comment I liked was when he came out wearing a Vancouver tee and said, “I’m such a kiss ass.”  Hehehe. There were other cute/funny comments, but I’m so tired of rewriting this that I cannot remember them at the moment.

After the Concert

Before we left, I spotted Mitch. I’ve always thought that he’s cute. Not only cute, but tall and a great smile. Mission accomplished.


The Day After

Sunday morning I met up with Pam and Cathy before they headed back to Seattle. We all had the post-concert blues. We wanted to go see the A-maze-ing Laughter Statues. I don’t consider myself a Phile so it didn’t cross my mind to visit locations where past episodes were shot, but I did want to see the statues, not so much because X-Files shot there, but because they were a sight. However I have to admit that it was pretty cool to be at a location where a delicious looking David recently shot an episode.

Afterwards, we walked across the street to the beach where we ran into Mulder & Scully having one of their famous conversations on a log.  After they left, Pam and I took a picture on the log. With her red hair and my long black raincoat, I dubbed us Mulder & Scully. Hehehe.

I want to end this long ass review by saying that I had a BLAST with Mary, Pam, Cathy, Angie and of course, David. It was also wonderful to see fans that I met at the New York concert, like Laurice, Walt, Timea and other fans I had never met before like Karen and Donna. There were fans from so many countries in Vancouver. David really does bring people together. :)

On a personal note, 2017 has been a crappy year for me so I needed this non crappiness in my life. The most recent crappy thing to happen was my cat passing away. She had been with me for 20 years and she passed exactly a week before I left for Vancouver. The trip really helped keep me mind off her.

David, thank you for the memories and friends. Looking forward to the next time. Mary, thanks for everything!

I will post more pictures and videos soon.

Skeleton Vampier Fairy Tale

This was an old Fairy tale my Aunt told me when I was very young. It had been past down generation to generation. Im the only family member that still remembers that story and many others that our family has told, I took the time to recreate the story from memory and illustrated a Scene so here you go:

Skeleton vampier:          Written and illustrated By Michelle Titus Parylak

A young couple with their new born baby were walking to visit a village were the wife’s sister lives. It was a cold winters day and the sun was about to fall. They had been traveling for days and were about to reach the village when they came across a small hunting lodge. The husband looked though the dirty windows. All he could see was a bed with a bear skin blanked on top and and old large box in the corner of the room. “we’ll stay here for the night!” said the husband, “It Looks to have be abandoned for years, no one will care if we stay the night”. The Wife felt uneasy, Something wasn’t right with the place. “No! something is wrong here, we shouldn’t stay here.” ”My sisters village is just over that hill, we do not need to stay here!” Said the woman in a worried tone. The husband just ignored he’s wife’s advice and opened the door. “we’ve been traveling for days, Im tired and my feet hurt.””were staying here and thats final!” Said the husband in an irritated tone. They walked into the cabin, the wife holding her child close to her chest. “I’ll take the bed, will you can sleep on the floor.” Said the husband.
The wife layed under the bed while her arrogant husband snored loudly on the bed. Her uneasiness was still with her, she could not fall asleep. She was just about to drift off when she heard a sound eco in the house. it sounded like something was opening. She watched the door, in fear that it was the owner. She reached for her husband to try to wake him. but he just snored. Then she heard a soft thud, again she try to wake him but get the same response. She starts to hear a scraping sound, like nails scraping on the floor. She try to franticly wake him trying to tell him that something was in the cabin, but got a familiar snoring. She was now quite, the room was filled with silents. Then suddenly she heard a sound, that she could only describe as the sound of a fox killing a chicken. scared and worried for her child’s safety she tried to wake him again but this time is meet with no sound from him. she sakes him to try to wake him. Then suddenly she feels something warm… and wet. She pulls her hand back down and looks at her hand. In the small light from the moon she sees that what was on her hand, was blood.
Terrified she holds her child close and eyes the door. then she hears the familiar sound of a door closing. She realizes that what ever killed her husband had come out of the box in the corner and knew that she was here. calmly she speaks. “ I love you honey, I will wait here Intel morning.”” Then we shall leave together” As time passes she hears no sound form the box again. she holds her baby tightly, and plans her escape. Then she bolted for the door, as she runs though the snow her long braided hear wiping in the wind, she hears it a blood curdling scream. “AAAGGGHHH” screamed the beast in an unearthly voice as it finds its meal has gone. Soon the creature runs out of the cabin and after her. she looks back and sees a long skinny figure running after her. It seemed to have be nothing but bones and skin. Sharp Pointed teeth, long nails and deep sunken black Eyes. “AAAAGGGHHH!!!” Screamed the beast now right on the woman’s heals, trying to grab at her braids. It grabbed one and she struggled to free her self. as she did her braid unwrapped its self freeing her in the process. she ran as fast as her lags could carry her. Finally she sees the Bon Fire from her sisters village. She runs down the hill and into the village. People came to her and asked her what happened and were was her husband. She cried and replied “Monster, Monster!” “ at the old cabin.” she pointed up in the direction she had come, and they see a figure in the distance it was the creature. It stared at the fire, motionless then. “AAAGGGHHH!” the creature cried as it fled back to his lair.
Later after winter has ended. a hunting party and the young woman went back to the cabin. the men looked in and saw a bed with white dry bones of a man , that seemed to have been chewed on it, and in the corner was a box. now seen in the daylight the box appeared to be filled with blood to a point to were it was leaking from it. the men said “hello sir, we’re just passing by, what a lovely house you have!” as they did so other men were piling dry logs all around the house blocking all possible exits, and lit the cabin on fire. from inside the cabin they heard a load thuds and scratching, and screaming from inside the flaming cabin. then out of the chimney flue a large skeletal owl, that flue into the near by woods.
Now ladys, when you’re out with your husband and hear an owl, turn to him and say “Remember that man that didn’t listen to his wife”