Me, starting Prometheus: "Okay so, it's a prequel. Doesn't really feel like one with how advanced everything is, but this movie was released in 2012 so it makes sense."

My face at the end of the movie :

IT REALLY IS A PREQUEL HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT THIS THING. LOOK AT THE FUCKING JAWS ON THAT THING HOLY FUCK. NO WONDER IT WAS SO BIG LIKE WHAT THE FUCK.

YEAH, YEAH WHAT THE FUCK, GOOD PREQUEL, NO WONDER XENOMORPHS ARE WHAT THEY ARE HOLY SHIET.

I love the madness of this franchise.

For the commentary track meme!

Theon continues to carry Ice to executions as ten name days turn into eleven and then twelve. It is a great honor to squire for the Lord of Winterfell and Theon wants to make him proud. The others think it is an undeserved honor for the dirty Ironborn hostage ward. But he will show them that an Ironborn is as honorable as any Stark. He will smile like Dagmer to show them he is unafraid.

Mikken, the blacksmith, has told him that the Ice is forged from Valyrian steel, but it still feels as heavy as ordinary steel to Theon. Heavier, in truth. And as he trails behind the cold imposing form of Lord Stark on execution days, he wonders:

Who will carry Ice for him to his execution?

Mayhaps Robb? If he’s old enough… He hopes it won’t be Snow.

Will he have to carry it himself? Carry the sword to his own execution? That seems exceptionally cruel though, and Lord Stark is not an unkind man. He has even praised his skill with the bow and given him the rare smile once or twice.

Mayhaps he can persuade Lord Stark to drown him in the black pool in the Godswood instead of beheading him? The pool is freshwater, not salt. But it still might allow him to enter the Drowned God’s halls. Lord Stark already uses that pool to clean Ice, Theon has often spied him doing so after an execution. If Lord Stark drowns him, there will be no blood for him to clean from his sword or his hands.

The Greenlanders think that drowning is barbaric but the Ironborn know better. Drowning is horrible at first, but after a time, the waters calm and carry you as if you were safe inside your mother’s womb. And then you see your loved ones, calling you to the Drowned God’s halls, calling you home.

He resolves to ask Lord Stark to execute him by drowning if his father rebels again. Yet the words never seem to rise to his lips. Nor do his other questions for Lord Stark.

Questions like, what is the best way to place your head onto the block?

He notices that some men face the block head on, with their chins flush against the wood, so that the sword strikes the center of the back of their necks. But some turn their head to the side, with their ear against the block, so that the sword meets the side of the neck first. Why? Which is better? Many times he tries to ask Lord Stark, but the words won’t come.

One night he notices the stool in his room is shaped similar to the blocks used at the executions. He drops to his knees and pulls the stool toward him with trembling hands. But which way should he place his head? He tries both ways. First with his chin resting against the top of the stool. Then with his cheek resting against it. He reckons it is more comfortable the second way. He could almost pretend that he was drifting off to sleep.

@team-mom-wannabe asked about Don’t Lose Your Head from this meme

Ahhhh! Thank you so so much for sending this in!

Okay so this section (and really this whole fic lol) was the perfect unholy marriage between my angst about Theon having to grow up fearing that he may be executed at any point, and my own obsessive thoughts about death- and weirdly enough, death by beheading. (The rest is under the cut since it got long)

And I feel like I should tag @julie-slamdrews in this because she can attest to my obsession about beheadings lol. Ever since I was a child, executions like burning at the stake or beheadings fascinated and horrified me- so much that I would become fixated on them in an unhealthy way. And I dealt with this by acting out executions with my neighbor. So we would play, “Burned at the Stake” or “Guillotine.”

But getting back to Theon, this whole section of him carrying the sword and wanting to do a good job and make Ned proud vs. having these intrusive, obsessive thoughts about his own future execution was born out of my deep frustration that a lot of people still say that Theon was “adopted” by Ned. And I’ve said this before and I know I’lll have to say it again. But adoption should never end in decapitation. Seriously, what adoption do you know that would end in the adoptive parents killing their adopted kid if the birth parents did something wrong. Like???????????

And now look, I am not saying that Theon did not develop familial feelings with the Starks and they with him in some cases (such as Robb.) That is called just being human and trying to find humanity in a fucked up situation. But it doesn’t negate that it was a horrible situation for him to be in. And fearing death- fearing that your parents will not care enough about you to keep you safe (by not rebelling) or that the people you are growing up with would put you to death... That is a fucked up situation that is going to do a number on anyone.

And I know people say, “Well, that was just how it was back then, in medieval inspired Westeros.” And yeah that’s true. And with this section, I am kind of leaning into that idea. The normalization of fucked up things. In fact, Theon has normalized his situation to the extent that he is wondering about how to bring his concerns about his possible execution up to Ned in the most casual way possible.

I also wanted to show that it is completely possible that Ned made Theon carry the sword to make him feel special and to give him a special job. Which is heartbreaking in its own way. But, again, even though his intentions might have been good, it is still fucked up and it definitely fucked Theon up, whether he meant to or not.

The section where Theon wants to be drowned instead of beheaded is there to show that Theon really does come from a completely different culture than the north but also that he is already beginning to romanticize the culture he has been taken from. And also, Theon is already sort of trying to combine both cultures by desiring to be drowned in the Godswood pool. And then, this section also just shows Theon’s chaotic nature- that he truly believes Ned might think it’s a “win, win” to drown Theon since it would save him the messy clean up lol. I also personally could never imagine Ned drowning anyone lmao.

But there is a part of Theon that feels like he can’t actually ask theses questions. Partly because of how distant and stern Ned is and partly because Theon doesn’t really want to face this possibility himself- which is why Theon eventually turns to denial in order to not have to deal with these fears.

The part where Theon is wondering what is the best way to place his head on the block: This part comes directly from watching the Tudors and experiencing my brain melt over the fact that there were two ways beheadings happened on that show THAT WERE NOT EVER EXPLAINED lol.

After watching that show, I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out why some people held their head forward and some leaned their heads to the side to be executed. I was never able to find a good explanation, but a friend of mine mentioned that if you lay your head down so that the axe meets the side of your neck first, that would likely be an easier slice. I did notice that people were beheaded almost exclusively with the neck to the side in the later episodes of the Tudors. So maybe this was suppose to give a nod to the fact that the executioners of Tudor England eventually realized that this was a cleaner execution. This idea is also supported by the fact that the French swordsman wanted Anne Boleyn to be distracted so that she turned her head the right way for the cleanest cut. However, I never really found out if the way you hold your head on the block really matters. Theon didn’t really either though, since he couldn’t bring himself to ask so... it worked out lol.

The thing about Theon “rehearsing” his death was inspired by Catherine Howard who asked for the block to be brought to her cell the night before her execution so that she may know how to place herself upon it. But I also thought that would be such an incredibly Theon thing to do- to rehearse for his death and make sure everything was just so- so that people would say, “the lad died well,” afterwards.  💔

Thank you so so much for this ask! It was fun to try to explain what the hell I was thinking while writing this fic lol.

Smutember 2020 day 1 - Dirty talk (show), Zalissa (Melizack)

Smutember 2020 day 1 - Dirty talk (show), 

Zalissa (Melizack) (Milo Murphy’s Law), E, 1.8k

(Ao3) 

If you liked my story, here’s a Ko-fi link if you’d be so kind ❤️.    

Prompt suggested by @vickyships

=================

- Nervous, mister Underwood? Is it your first time live on air?

Melissa's voice brought Zack from his short moment of thoughtfulness.

- Me? - Zack returned a cocky smile Melissa blessed him with - Are you kidding? We've been through tougher times. And why did you call me that? - Journalistic integrity. Gotta stay professional, since, you know, we are a thing. - Uh, babe, the entire school knows we are a thing, so- - I know, but let's pretend. - she cut him off - Ssh, we're going live.

Melissa gave him a quick wink and slid the headphones on, just as Lydia, sitting behind glass in the director's room opposite them was giving them signals. She silently counted from five to one, and when the red "On Air" lamp above them turned on, her confident, alluring voice filled the recording room.

- And now, Danville, welcome to another episode of "Chased into the spotlight", a programme where your humble host, Melissa Chase, interviews your favourite local celebrities, idols, oddballs, or whomever is available.

She spoke the intro on a single breath, giving her boyfriend a subtle wink at the end of her opening line.

- Today's guest has moved into our town only a couple of years ago, but he has already made a name for himself, though I will most certainly try to uncover a bit of his past. How are you doing, Zack? - I am fine, Melissa, and thanks for inviting me. - Oh, it is my pleasure for having you.

Her smirk widened just a bit as she spoke those words, prompting a sudden twitch from her interlocutor sitting opposite her. As if nothing has happened, Melissa casually looked at her list of questions and continued.

- Zack, most people know you for being cool, laid-back guy and a loyal friend, but only some of us have heard about your passions and talents. Would you care to tell us about them? - Well, I guess it started when I was a young kid, I liked dressing up for Halloween and that kinda led me to getting interested in theatre and dancing, and I guess singing. - Interesting... - Melissa toyed with her pen, and took one end of it into her mouth, gently grazing it with her teeth - Were you interesting in role-playing? Wearing costumes? Assuming different characters, to enact some of your... fantasies?

Melissa might have wondered about it before, but there was no mistake now - in the lights of the recording studio, she could easily see droplets of sweat on Zack's forehead forming as her words left her mouth, still forming an alluring connection with the pen.

- Uh, well, you-you can say tha-that... - And you have played roles, singing in your boy band, "Lumberzacks". - Melissa interrupted him - Oh, uh, yes. - ... which was of course called "Lumbermaxes", before the lead singer, Max, left, leaving you in charge. Tell me, how does it feel to be chosen as the dominant alpha male of your group? - Wha-what do you mea-AA!

Zack yelped and put hands over his mouth when he felt something smooth sliding up his leg, right up to his crotch. Neither the listeners, nor Lydia could see what Melissa was doing with her feet underneath the table, but neither the pop-filter, nor the equipment could hide his ecstatic voice.

- Impressive vocal range - Melissa commented without missing a beat - Why don't we listen to a clip of your song, long enough to let our viewers experience your talent, and short enough to avoid our channel being taken down by copyright bots?

She nodded towards Lydia, and the familiar tune of a lumberjack-themed song started seeping from the speakers, giving the two a short moment to breathe, though Zack evidently needed it more.

- Mel! - he spoke in half-whisper - What the what was that?

His girlfriend graced him with another smirk, as her foot slid from her shoe and started climbing up his leg again. She looked at the equalised of his microphone and watched as the waves of his breathing osculate with each inch she was travelling up. Their eyes met, and as she travelled up, Melissa wondered if she made the right choice. Though he was nervous, her boyfriend didn't let her know she has won, until her toes found the familiar thickness hidden in the left leg of his jeans. She moved her toes back and forth around his head, until in the corner of her eye Melissa noticed Lydia signalling the end of the clip.

At once, Melissa retracted her foot from between his legs, seeing longing in his eyes and fixed her position in the chair.

- And that was "Forest Fire of My Heart", which I understand you also co-wrote? - Uh, yes - Zack grunted - Usually Max was the head writer, but this is the one song where I proved that I am skilled not only in using my mouth, but also my fingers...

Zack leaned forward, eager to see Melissa's eye widen as hers, but instead, Melissa let out a short and quiet snort.

- Be-because I had to ty-type the song on-on my PC... - Of course.

Melissa restrained herself from bursting into laughter.

- Tell me, in the song, you sing about "Burning wood" and "Fire consuming your body".

She once again half-closed her eyes, and lowered her voice into a seductive, alluring range, accentuating the innuendos.

- Were you describing- - Love.

Zack answered at once.

- I was writing about love, warming one's soul, heart and mind, love that if left unspent can burn bridges and forests. I was thinking, seeing into the future, perhaps, about a flame with a flaming red hair that I will meet one day and make her cheeks burn with the same fire...

It was time for Melissa to stare at her sly-looking lover with a dumbfounded, empty expression on her face, while the room and the airwaves were filled with nothing but silence for a solid twenty seconds.

- Uhm, this-this is all the time we have for today, Lu-Lumberzacks are about to have a- uh, reunion charity concert on Saturday, and you can buy the-the tickets on our website, though I should warn you, the first row is already sold out because I will buy all of them.

She waved quickly at Lydia to end the recording early, and soon as the red light above them and the one behind the glass were turned off, Melissa regained some confidence in her voice.

- How much time do we have till next classes? - Fifteen minutes. - Perfect. - And keep the headphones on, you look sexy in it - Zack spoke just as Melissa was about to take it off.

The sound-proof walls contained Melissa's shriek that escaped her mouth when Zack grabbed her waist and lifted her up just so he can slam her against the table. Anticipating his move, she spread her legs, and the second he slid between them, they closed behind his back in a tight lock, and a quick kick to his ass made him press his crotch against her wet sex.

While his lips found hers, her hands at once dashed between their heated bodies, to the same length she was massaging through his jeans, and after a few seconds of fumbling, he slid into her delicate palm. She wished they had time for delicate foreplay, but the heat burning between her legs told her she needs a far, far quicker fix for that.

She ended their ravenous kiss just so she could hear his voice cracking when his cock's head pushed aside the strip of her soaked panties and parted her puffy lips, followed by a savoured, blissful moment of tranquillity. But metaphorical tables were turned pretty quickly on her, when Zack used those few seconds to gather strength and sank inside her in one, smooth move which made Melissa's body arch as her senses were overwhelmed by her lover's filling her up.

- You... you would like this to be live, on air, wouldn't you...?

Melissa taunted him, eager to see his eyes widen at her salacious proposal.

- I want to proclaim my love to you to the who-whole school... - he grunted leaning against her for a kiss - And the nation. Even world. - And space, don't forget that. We know they got your songs out there...

Picking up speed, the two lovers moved in unison, racing both together and against each other, with the words of Zack's song still in their heads. Melissa didn't know whether it was poor air conditioning, or maybe their bodies grinding against each other have made the wooden table catch fire, but with each second she felt her core superheating.

- Me-Melissa... - Zack groaned, feeling the same overwhelming need in his loins - Where- - Inside - she answered at once in a broken voice - i want your seed to extinguish the fire inside me...

Those were the last words Melissa could speak with a clear mind. Melissa's final moan rivalled his grunts, and the sound-proof room trapped them around the two, just as their mouths joined again, rocking their shared climax that made the table slam against the wall with each thrust of Zack's hips and each portion of his cum that flooded her womb.

After another minute or so, the aggressive noise died down, just as the first wave of blissful afterglow began engulfing the two young adults. Zack gave Melissa a charming smile, leaned against her, and Melissa automatically closed her eyes, waiting for her lover's lips... But after a while of waiting she realised something must have gone wrong.

When she looked at him again, she saw a terrified look in his eyes, fixated at some point behind her, and when she tilted her head back, she noticed a single figure in the director's room that was lit once again.

Even with the image of her friend upside-down, Melissa could spot Lydia's burning cheeks and equally frightened look on her face, as the poor soul didn't know how to react to finding her friends in flagranti. Slowly, she decided to back away, though she never took her eyes (nor her phone) away from Zack and Melissa's half-naked, tangled bodies, until the director's room was empty once more.

- Well, I think we should count our blessings. - Zack huffed - If it was Milo, we would be live and everyone would hear us. - Are you saying everyone won't hear about it? - Melissa raised her eyebrow, and cupped his face to give him a kiss. - Get ready for an extra amount of awkward interviews for the next few days. Also, I am going to take the headset home, if you like me wearing it. - Yeah, shame it doesn't go with anything, so you'll have to be naked.

Zack laughed when Melissa gave him a light punch just as the two began to cover up their mess.  

skz’s reaction to their s/o having plump lips

requested by @0leelina0​! thanks for sending this in, i felt so giddy writing it ehe i hope you like it!

side note: i don’t know what to do with myself anymore i-

bang chan

i feel like he’d absolutely love his s/o having plump lips

like at first he wouldn’t pay attention to your lips much (because let’s face it, he’d be too infatuated with the entirety of your face to just focus on your lips)

but the more you both got to know each other, the more he’d find himself staring at your lips whenever you spoke

he just loves watching them move 

and it makes him absolutely weak in the knees whenever you kiss him on the cheek or just anywhere on his skin

and don’t get me started on how much he’d love to kiss them

he swears up and down he could makeout with you for an entire day

and he always tries to do so

“No, just a few more minutes,” He’d mumble against your lips as you attempted to pull away.

“Channie, I literally cannot breathe anymore.” You let out an airy laugh and he leaves a soft peck on your lips.

“That sounds like a you problem.”

Nsfw: he’s definitely into the whole lip-biting thing 

and you giving him neck kisses is his biggest turn on omygod

lee know

minho knows that he’s got the prettiest lips on planet earth

but when he met you, he realised that although he may have the best lips on earth, you’ve got the best lips in the entire universe

a hard fact to accept, but my guy was too whipped for you to let it get to him

he’d absolutely love taking kissy face selfies with you 

you both would make kissy faces at each other so often that it became second nature rather than an inside joke lmao

the first time you kissed his cheek, he swore he had died and gone to heaven and that an angel kissed him to wake him up

but then a cheek kiss turned into a lip one and there was no going back

he’d be obsessed with leaving lingering kisses on your lips, very slow and intimate yet firm

and sometimes he’d prefer it that way over intense, passionate ones

sometimes

because let me tell you, this man is k i n k y

Nsfw: definitely a lip biter like chan, and he’d savour each and every moment of your lips on his skin

“My lips are ten times bigger now than when we first started,” you chuckle in disbelief at your swollen lips

“Oopsies.” Minho says as he hugs you from the back, a smug and cheeky eye smile plastered all over his face.

changbin

your lips are definitely the first thing he notices when he meets you

he can’t help but stare; they’re so eye catching and pretty and god, his mind already wonders what it would be like to kiss them

just like himself, you have a habit of licking and biting your lips 

whether it be out of nervousness or pure habit

but he finds it so endearing and attractive that he finds himself mimicking your actions every time you do so

he finds it incredibly sexy whenever you bite your lips

like, heart-stoppingly sexy

and he loves to run his thumb over your bottom lip whenever your face is in his hands

and leaving random, quick pecks on them whenever he has the chance

“We’re in public silly,” You jokingly scold him as he wraps his arms around your waist and peppers your lips with feathery kisses.

“I can’t help it, you’re too addicting.”

but when you two are alone, it’s a whole other story

Nsfw: he l o v e s to suck on your bottom lip when you both are making out

like, just the feeling of your lip between his all soft and plump makes his blood rush in ways that words can’t even describe

and running his tongue over your bottom lip makes him all woozy and delirious ugh

case in point: every makeout session is a steamy one.

hyunjin

hyunjin met his match the moment he laid eyes on your lips

like, he still can’t believe that someone could rival his full lips

but alas

even when you two started dating, he still remained humorously competitive about it

he’d go around asking his members which one of you had the better lips in the relationship

and everyone found it absolutely hilarious that he still wouldn’t let it go

being the weirdo he is, he has tons of photos of your lips in his camera roll

he tries to justify it by saying they’re for comparison when he makes other people choose who’s is better, but the reality is he just loves to stare at them when he misses you

what a sweet weirdo

“I got the most votes this time, pay up.” Hyunjin says smugly, puckering his lips for a victory kiss and you roll your eyes at his foolishness.

“I’m winning next time though,” You say and kiss him tenderly.

“I really don’t mind if the price to pay is kissing you.” He says sweetly when you pull away.

Nsfw: he seems like the kinky type, but i actually see him as more of a sweet, tender kisser rather than an intense one

intimate, long kisses just gets him going man what can i do

han

han loves to stare at your lips when you talk

he just finds them so captivating that it puts him in a trance

at first you thought he found your lips weird because his eyes were always trained on them

but then he revealed that it was only because he was smitten with the way you smiled and moved your lips

the amount of lyrics he’s written about your lips and how magical they are alone is either alarming or charming, but you’re not complaining

often times when you both are cuddling and just enjoying each others’ presence, he’d trace his finger around the contours of your lips 

he finds everything about the way they’re shaped perfect and complimentary to the rest of your features, and he doesn’t keep his thoughts to himself

mans so whipped i love him

Nsfw: like changbin, he loves to suck on your bottom lip and tug on it playfully

especially when he’s ~in the mood~

but he also really enjoys long and firm kisses, minus all the tongue and antics because he just wants to pour all of his love for you into each kiss 

“You drive me insane, you know that?” Han says with half-lidded eyes as you both pull away to catch your breaths.

“Does this mean i have better lips than Minho?” You say playfully.

“Oh shut up and kiss me you dork.”

felix

felix is just so sweet and precious that he’d be fixated on every single feature of yours 

one week he’d focus on complimenting your eyes

the next your nose

but when he reached your lips???

he would not be able to shut up about them

he’d find them sosososos charming and would try and force you to make kissy faces at him just so that he can swiftly go to peck them and catch you by surprise

such a cheeky boi

he’d find kissing you so comforting and warm and just the epitome of tenderness, it makes him feel so calm and sound

“Each kiss feels just like the first.” He said just above a whisper against your lips.

“That’s funny, this is like the billionth kiss of the week.” You chuckle and he laughs only to bring you back in for another.

Nsfw: i’m here to retract all soft uwu’s because lee felix, 5 minutes into a makeout, can and will turn into an absolute beast

he’d be soooo into lip biting and just playing with your mouth with his own 

and he’d be so passionate each time and ahodhofh i’m sorry i dont make the rules

seungmin

ohmygosh my sweet baby

he’s so precious that he would blush every time you’d catch him staring at your lips

even when you both started dating he’d still get all shy and red whenever you’d leave a kiss on his cheek or forehead or eyelids

but he absolutely loves it when you do so

he’s a sucker for affection, and your plump lips kissing all over his face would just make all the love feel even more amplified

he loves giving you short, sweet pecks out of the blue and seeing you blush sweetly whenever he does so makes him all giddy

and he’s always finding excuses to kiss you

“You’ve got some ice cream right,” He leans in close to your lips, “Here.” In a second his lips are on yours, his tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and your whole face flushes. 

“You could’ve just used a tissue.”

“Our climate is collapsing and you want to waste tissue? Could never be me.”

Nsfw: yall hear sumn?

i.n

he’s literally still in the womb what do i say

our sweet baby would not know what to do with himself when he starts being infatuated with you, let alone when he realises how charming your features are

he’d be so giddy and giggly around you

fooling around, squishing your lips between his fingers

and whenever your kiss him on the cheek, he would need an entire 10 minutes just to recover from it

don’t even get me started on a first kiss

like he’d honestly think he could die happy with the feeling of your pillowy lips on his

he’d be so gentle and happy with you and would always leave feathery kisses around your lips and on your cheeks 

“S-stop, that tickles Jeongin,” You giggle while he peppers kisses around the corners of your mouth and on your jaw. 

“Whoops,” He says cheekily and leaves a chaste kiss on your lips.

Nsfw: page does not exist

woojin

woojin would be such a gentleman that he’d remind you everyday of how beautiful every part of you is

your lips were never an insecurity but they weren’t your favorite feature either

but that all changed when woojin showed you so much tender love and care

he’s such a sweetheart man

he’d love to help you put on lipliner and lipstick just for fun because it ‘reminds me of art class’

“Kim Woojin, you overdrew my lips too much and now I look like a clown!” You scold him, red lipliner smudged all around your chin as you attempted to wipe it off.

“Well I think you look cute.” He says matter-of-factly, grabs your face and kisses you sweetly.

Whenever you’d fall asleep on his lap he’d leave tender kisses on our lips and just admire every inch of your face 

im cryin i miss him

Nsfw: when mans is in the mood, mans is in the mood

kissing is his favorite form of foreplay hands down and would be so passionate and sometimes rough 

but hey ain’t nobody complainin bout that

A/N:  I hope you enjoy this next chapter! I did some research, I'm sure you'll figure out where, so if my forensic equipment knowledge isn't totally up to par, I tried my best haha! Comments are loved and highly appreciated! -Jen

Read on FFN and AO3

                                 Chapter Three: A Vortex of Emotions

It was surprising how fast Chloe managed to fall asleep the moment she planted herself in the passenger seat. Maybe it was the fact that after much arguing, mostly on Maze's part, Linda was given the task to drive over the literal speed demon. It was comforting to know that she didn't have to concern herself with running red lights and fighting the speedometer to see how truly fast the car could be pushed.

"She's really not herself," Linda murmured, looking in the rear view mirror to catch Maze's gaze. "How long has this been going on?"

"You mean this whole thing?" Maze frowned as she fiddled with her seat belt. "It started when Lucifer left. I just thought she was depressed or whatever. But she insisted that I keep you out of it. So I did." She paused and for the briefest of moments, a look of guilt flickered across her features before disappearing. "But then she started to get sick. Like actually sick. She tries to hide it, especially when Trixie's around. It's just now…"

"You're worried," Linda finished, giving the demon a small, sympathetic smile. "And that's not a bad thing. That's being a good friend." The therapist glanced over at Chloe, the corners of her mouth twitching into a small frown. "I'm worried too."

Despite the station being a mere fifteen minute car ride from Chloe's house, time seemed to move much slower. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, Ella was waiting with folded arms, face locked into a mixed look of curiosity and confusion. It wasn't until the detective stepped sluggishly out of the vehicle and into view that her brows knitted into concern.

"Hey," she said, her tone hesitant as if she were desperately trying to make a mental conclusion of it all. "I got your call. Chloe, are you-"

"We can talk more inside," the detective cut her off, sounding surprisingly firm. "In the lab. I'll explain everything." Mostly everything, what with Lucifer not around to get into the whole "supernatural" discussion. "Please."

"Sure," Ella nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay. Let's go inside."

The building was mostly empty seeing as it was the end of a switch change. Most people she cared about knowing that she was here, well Dan, were thankfully not. He had Trixie. Unlike her, she hoped that they were at least having a good time. Her head spun, stomach twisting with nausea as the all too familiar pain deep within her pelvic area began to flare. It was almost distracting enough to make her forget the fact that she was pregnant. Almost.

"So," Ella said slowly as she flipped on the lights in the lab. The brightness of it all causing Chloe to slightly wince. "Mind letting me in on the secret?"

"I need you to give me an ultrasound," the detective answered abruptly. "I'm pregnant."

The forensic scientist stumbled back little, her hands raised forward as if seemingly pushing back an invisible force. "Wait, wait," she exclaimed. "You're pregnant? Is it Lucifer's? I didn't realize…" She shook her head in befuddlement. "I don't know whether to say congratulations and hug you or say sorry because Lucifer bailed to hell knows where…" She inhaled, eyes fixated intensely on Chloe. "Also, an ultrasound? I'm not even a doctor! And besides," she hesitated. "My skills are more equipped for the dead, not the living."

"I know it sounds bizarre. Even more so than you probably realize," Chloe breathed, desperation present in her words. "But there has to be something you can do. Please, Ella, I really need your help with this." Looking from Maze to Linda, she swallowed. "I have no one else to turn to right now."

For the usually talkative woman, Ella remained dead silent. Then, seemingly trapped in her own world, she began to pace around the lab mumbling something to herself. At one point Maze opened her mouth to say something, but promptly shut it when Linda elbowed her in the side. Chloe could only watch with bated breath, fear encapsulating what little hope she currently mustered.

"PMUS," the forensic scientist unexpectedly proclaimed.

"PMUS?" Linda inquired. "What does that exactly stand for?"

"Postmortem Ultrasound Imaging," Ella explained, beginning to move quickly about the room in an attempt to locate her devices. "Again, it's objected is for, well, dead things, but it basically uses the same principles of your average ultrasound." She smiled proudly, clearly pleased with her solution. "If there's a baby in there, it'll find it. Heart beat too. While I can't really tell you much, I can at least show you." She motioned towards the metal slab in the center of the room. "It'd work best if you'd laid down on that, Chloe. Sorry it's, well, you know what it's used for, but I cleaned it."

Maze was by her side before Chloe could even attempt to hoist herself up onto the table. When she opened her mouth in protest, Maze shot her a glare that could only be read as "you can fight me all you want, but I'm still helping your ass up there". At this point, too tired to argue, she consented to the demon's demands and climbed onto the table with some "minor" assistance.

"Thankfully I have a transducer probe," Ella stated, pulling out the all too familiar wand Chloe remembered being used during her sonogram appointments with Trixie. "I'm trying to remember what I last used this for," she began before stopping herself. "Not that that's important right now."

Chloe tried to drown out the sounds of Ella's almost nervous humming as the woman set about getting the parts in order. Attempted her damnedest to think of something less anxiety inducing. Of course, like always, she was drawn back to Lucifer. It was a different kind of ache than she had been feeling physically. This one was deeper. What she wouldn't give to have just a few more moments with him. Just to hear his voice, to feel his touch. To know he was there. Have him know all about this.

"Okay," Ella's voice pulled Chloe roughly back to reality. "I think I set this up right for what we're looking for."

The forensic scientist adjusted the monitor so it was just enough in Chloe's line of vision. The detective could feel her heart pounding against her chest as Ella moved about making final alterations. By this point, Linda had moved closer to Chloe, reaching out to grab the other woman's hand. The detective turned to look at her, the therapist offering a small smile before giving her a gentle squeeze. Maze too had moved to her side, a hand resting almost protectively on her friend's knee as she stared hard at the screen.

"This is gonna be cold," Ella apologized as squeezed some gel onto Chloe's abdomen. "I'm not used to living patients."

"It's fine," Chloe replied shakily. "I just need to know."

The other woman nodded, still as uncertain as she had been from the beginning. Unlike the others, she had no idea of Lucifer nor the true reason Chloe had come. Even if they tried to explain, the whole situation with him being the true Devil was more seeing than believing. Chloe closed her eyes the moment she felt the wand pressed against her lower stomach. She felt sick, but it wasn't from the baby. It was pure nervous.

"I can't say I know exactly what I'm looking for, but-Oh!"

Ella's voice was suddenly cut off by the very distinct lub dub sound of a heartbeat. It was so recognizable that Chloe felt as if she were back in the examination bed years before when she was carrying Trixie. A lump formed in her throat, warm emotions flooding over her as she meticulously studied the screen. A tiny body, two even smaller arms, two legs, and a perfectly round head. No horns. No visible protrusions. Just a little, bitty, perfect baby that just floated casually inside of her womb. She hadn't even realized that she was crying until the taste of salt running down her cheeks brushed her lips.

"Are they supposed to look like that," the forensic scientist finally asked, breaking the silence between the four women. "I mean, I have a rough idea…"

"Yeah," Chloe nodded, letting out a shaky exhale. "Yeah, that's what they look like."

"No Lucifer resemblance whatsoever," Maze added, squinting her eyes as she studied the screen more. "It looks just like Linda's did. Boring."

"Ignore her," Linda smiled, her eyes flickering between Chloe and the screen. "They look perfect."

The detective's eyes remained locked on the ultrasound as if she were in a trance. Within a day she had learned not only that she was pregnant, but saw her child for the first time. It felt surreal in a both terrifying and wonderful way. Even a little sorrowful. Lucifer's view on children had always been up in the air, but she knew if he could be here at this very moment. To experience what she was. He too would be smitten by their creation.

With so many feelings, Chloe began to feel overwhelmed. At least, that was what she attributed her headache too. She tried to focus on her child as her vision grew blurry, lungs seeming to struggle for air. Then, without any warning, the detective's body began to seize uncontrollably. The wand catching the baby's now irregular heartbeats one last time before it fell to the floor.

"Chloe?!" Maze called out, true fear seeping into the name. "What the hell is happening?!"

"I don't know," Linda said, rushing to grab the other woman before she could roll off the table. "Quick, turn her onto her left side. Ella, call 911! She needs real medical attention now! And you," she looked to the demon. "Call Amenadiel. The nanny can watch Charlie. Have him meet us at the hospital."

Linda's eyes flashed down to her friend who was still writhing before her. She wasn't really set on her religious beliefs based on both Amenadiel's and Lucifer's accounts on God, but in that moment she prayed. Prayed for Chloe. Prayed for the baby. And mostly, she prayed that somehow Lucifer would return from Hell.

But until one, if any at all, of her prayers were answered, she could only stand there and watch in complete helplessness as Chloe's life dangled haphazardly on a thread. A string that whipped about in the heavy winds of an incoming storm of uncertainty. If miracles were as true as they say, then one was needed now more than ever. Chloe's survival depended on it.

                                                    XXX

It was surprising how untouched his penthouse was the moment Lucifer resurfaced onto its floor. He had anticipated on Maze using it for her own pleasure, but clearly that hadn't been the case. Even the liquor on all of the shelves seemed to be at the same levels as he'd left them. The empty vibe of it all was almost depressing, invoking a feeling of lonesomeness. Not that the emotion wasn't something he'd been dealing with the past several weeks.

Moving around the room, he headed towards one of his shelves, eyes scanning for the cell phone he was pretty sure he'd left there before his departure. Alas, much to his displeasure, it was not in its place. But the keys to the corvette on the other hand laid neatly on the mahogany shelf. Maybe he didn't have a means of communication, but at least he had transportation.

"Thank Fa-" he caught himself before he uttered the name. "Thank goodness I don't have to bloody Uber myself out."

Maybe it was slightly reckless, but he had a bad habit of not memorizing phone numbers. That was the purpose of the contact icon on a phone-or so he thought. He knew where Chloe's house was. It'd be easy to go there. Briefly, he considered just flying over, a task that would be far faster than driving. But something in the back of his mind told him not to. That if he did so, something good wouldn't come of relying solely on his powers. While the usual risk taker, he decided to play it safe and go by car.

The air was uncomfortably humid as Lucifer drove down the many streets of Los Angeles. Despite having the top down, the mix of it along with the temperature was edging on unbearable. Thankfully, after eons of being the Devil, he could handle much more disagreeable conditions. Right now, his focus was completely on Chloe, the thought of her causing him to almost miss the turn to her home.

"Shit," he hissed out loud, a horn blaring as he nearly swerved into a Honda Civic. "Get your bloody self together, Lucifer. Before you cause even more trouble."

Nearly stumbling up the steps to her front door, Lucifer knocked rapidly. His mind was racing, too many thoughts slamming together as he continued to bang his fist against the door. It wasn't until the wood nearly began to splinter that it swung open, the Devil's fist in mid air just centimeters away from Dan's face.

"What the hell-" Dan blinked, clearly taken aback by Lucifer's presence. He too, like Ella, had no idea of the other man's true form. Which was, perhaps, unfortunately so as the detective was under the impression Lucifer had bailed on Chloe once again. "Where did you come-"

"Daniel. I don't really know why you're here, nor care, but Detective?" He called out, trying to slide past Dan as the man blocked in entrance way. "Chloe, it's me! Lucifer! We really have much to discuss and-"

"You need to leave," Dan cut in, attempting to close the door. "You've caused enough problems. Should've stayed away the first time you disappeared."

"Well plans bloody change, Daniel. You of all people should know that." Lucifer began to peer over the man's shoulder, desperately trying to locate some evidence that Chloe was present in the house. "Where's the Detective?"

"Chloe isn't here," Dan growled. "She's in the hospital, not that you deserve to know that."

Lucifer could feel the color drain from his face as his blood turned cold. He felt sick, almost nauseous enough to vomit. Behind Dan's glare, there was a brief glimmer of confusion before it was replaced with even more repulsion. He struggled to find his voice as the detective continued.

"Trixie is with Penelope. She doesn't know what's going on." He paused, but not long enough for Lucifer to reply. "I'm bringing a few things over to the hospital. Chloe's always preferred her own pajamas over those plastic gowns. If she is even well enough to get into them…"

"I'll go with you," Lucifer interjected. "I'll drive you!"

"Not a chance in Hell," the other man answered coldly. "This is your fault after all. This is YOUR baby!" He threw his hands up in the air. "I don't even understand what's going on. I don't think the doctors even know. But what I do know is that you left her. That for the past several weeks she's been a shell of herself. And now she's apparently pregnant with your kid and in the hospital. You see where I'm coming from?" Dan snorted, shaking his head. "Or you don't because you are Lucifer Fucking Morningstar who doesn't give a shit about anyone else!"

"OF COURSE I GIVE A DAMN!" Lucifer roared, his fist slamming against the door frame sending little splinters flying. Dan stumbled back in shock as the other man breathed ragged, trying to recollect himself. "Of course I bloody care."

Dan, still somewhat startled by Lucifer's brute strength, exhaled as his shoulders slumped. "Fine," he said in defeat. "I don't know why, but fine. But if we go and Chloe doesn't want to see-"

"She will," Lucifer countered.

"But if she doesn't-"

"She will." He insisted. "Trust me, Daniel, there's a lot more to this than you."

"I'll never trust you," Dan stated. "But a corvette is faster than my car. Let me grab the duffel bag and we'll go." He took a step before pausing. "And Lucifer? If you screw up this badly again…"

"I know," the Devil answered as if anticipating the remark. "You have my full permission to kill me. Wouldn't be the first time."

Dan muttered something under his breath that the Devil couldn't make out as he went to collect Chloe's things. Lucifer just stood there, leaning against the door frame. Dan was right. He had been the cause of all this mess. He was the reason behind why the Detective and their child was endangered. Within the tangles of fear and anger and worry, a new one surfaced with such weight it physically hurt. Guilt.

"Oh Chloe," he whispered. "What have I done?"

Buckle in lads. I’m looking back through old, old poetry of mine, and picking up on all these motifs I kept using for some reason. Ominous change is one of them, something that has not been, and now is, and after a stressed long period of time:

“The dark thing / is resting. / It has slept, a thick, moving / sleep, for a long time. / But now, the / dark thing has woken.”

“The stone mouth has been watching / for a long time. / Now it knows what to say. / The jaws separate. / The lips move. / The stone mouth is speaking.”

The stone as a concept pops up again among some very introspective thoughts. They seem to represent knowledge, some unquestionable form of fact amid a turbulent existence.

“What is stone . . . what is stone ? [...] / What is real? / What is not? / Does stone exist / or are we all figments of our own imagination?”

“All I know is one horrible truth / that the stones have chosen / to tell me. / It is our fault the sun is shriveling.”

Then there’s also almond imagery, which appears a lot. I don’t like nuts in general, and I really dislike the taste of marzipan, and yet:

“Life is the mirror / in which the / almond tree exploded”

“Almond’s breath / filled with life for another”

“Almond flowers are my fingertips.”

“almonds fall from / carefully stylized fingertips / to crash on many floors.”

I wrote about almonds as this life-bringing kernel, this starter of all things, and also as a part of the body. It leads into this carnal kind of sense, this fixation of mouths, on body parts being treated with floral, natural imagery.

“Roses and almonds / mouths full of coffee”

“Strip the tender green / Away and drown my mouth / In the milky wine inside.”

“White roses are my hair. / Just the blossoms. / Not the thorns.”

“Your mouth is a lotus / And mine is a hickory nut”

This bleeds into a lot of poetry around lovers, a “yours and mine” feeling. Roses appear repeatedly, in multiple forms, continuing this association of the body with nature.

“I will find roses for you, / creamy roses to match the color of your skin,”

“Rose petals / Soft like baby’s breath / Fall from your lips / Creamy white lilies drop from mine”

“When I wake your name is resting on my lips, each letter like a rose petal  / Ready to blow away with the slightest breath / I need to hear your voice again / I need to hear you say my name / My name, my title / Floating from your mouth, bubbling up like a spring, / And all that ownership / All that love will sweep me under / And perhaps, somehow / I will find you again.”

There’s this obsession with the mouth when it comes to love poetry, not just as a sense of touch, but as this gate of consumption, this way to hold a lover, a person, an idea, to swallow it whole and keep it.

The last motif I was picking up on a lot is this fixation with the womb as this place of safety and creation. Sometimes it is literal, sometimes figurative, sometimes a combination of the two, evoked by being small enough to fit inside the belly of a rose. Consistently, there is a comfort and warmth to this confinement:

“I dwell in a rose, where time is otherwise / and the shears approach steadily.”

“You are surrounded by red, / by warm red walls; / a cocoon of scarlet sheets; / a plant’s womb for your worm.”

“Now, love, I feel back. / I sense the womb. /  Feel the red. / Of warm blood. Of a beautiful maternity. / I recall, faintly – Being within.”

“Born up from the dark, / warm / womb of the earth”

Even when the word is not used explicitly, the visual of the womb is still present, a cradle of creative beginnings.

“creations become / soft fetuses and small pink / ideas. Like a pearl sewn / among a cradle of red velvet, / they burgeon,”

Anyway... I don’t proclaim to have any overarching connection to these. It all just came to mind as I was looking back over work from long ago-- the bulk of these are nine years old at least. It’s really interesting to see the recurring motifs in your work and wonder about the thought behind it all, especially when it appears very abstract.

Hi, sorry to be a bother but since I'm new to the fandom and have recently caught up with :re, I was wondering if you've ever like analyzed that rotten womb poem that Ishida wrote and how it's related to the touken baby and stuff.

(Thanks to @makyun​ for the translation)

Thankfully, I don’t think it’s actually related to the Touken baby anymore, but more to do with the Kirishimas (given the art that was posted alongside it, shown below) and the lifelong struggle of being a Ghoul. This is all wild mass guessing here, but isn’t that what poetry’s for?

The term‘Kirishimas’ in the following meta will include Yomo, despite not bearing anyrelation to Arata. Technically they should be called the ‘Yomos’, but it’sdifficult to avoid superimposing Yomo’s face on Touka and Ayato in that mentalimage, so we’ll stick with Kirishimas.

Her womb smelled like it was burnt.

Hikari’s womb. Her death set the development of her children aflame.

The children whowere meant to be born, died. The vision of the future convulses.

Touka, Ayato andYomo are three characters whose lives have been especially affected by theirGhoulhood. Subject to prevailing rhetoric, they believe to some extent thatthey are a mistake. Their being a ghoul is responsible for all the tragedythey’ve experienced without their life, so here their ghoulhood is compared –fittingly, given the real-life mythological description of the species – with beingundead. Because they are ghouls, the future convulses with tragedy.

Someone declared thatthey’ll crush only half of the broad bean.

Touka, Ayato and Yomo have all at various times tried to crush the CCGwithout acknowledging the fault carried on the part of the Ghouls as well. Theycan’t break down the world to create it a new in the same way that you can’tjust crush half a bad broad bean - it must be the whole thing, or not at all.Bean imagery in particular comes from (Kaneki’s mental image of) Rize’slikening of people to coffee beans - you can read more about that in linkspooky’s meta for the poem.

The gene is in asevere bipolar state.The nucleic acid sequence having no recollection of its own actions.

Perhaps againalluding to the genetic curse of Ghoulhood, which they have no responsibilityfor suggested by the lack of recollection of the nuclear acid sequence’s ownactions. The bipolar state being the cause of Ghoulhood in the first place, orperhaps alluding to their various forays to the Human side of the spectrum – likeTouka in the first manga’s second half, Ayato defying Aogiri to save Hinami andYomo’s tolerance of humans upon joining Anteiku.

All of the fingersthat were supposed to be connected from start to end, are scattered around;it’s annoying.

The fingers in the hand needed to reshape the world are scattered apart.Such is the state of the various characters of :re throughout thestory until they can be united within Goat. The same is true of the scatteredKirishima family, which is assuredly better together.

If you look closelyat the knot, you can see that it can be surprisingly easy to untie.

The knot beingexistential crisis and confusion. The key to untangling it is quite simple -love. In the image associated with this poem, it is the bond between theKirishimas that is emphasised here. The knot of the Ghoul/Human conundrum thatthe series revolves around can be untangled in much the same way

I was always askedto keep the switch.Go forward.Go back.Stop.

The switch onKaneki’s actions from Touka’s perspective. Become more Ghoulish (Kuroneki),don’t be so Ghoulish (Shironeki), stop changing all together (Haise). But thesame rhetoric can apply to Touka’s own development: Become more human (1-79),become less human (79-143), stop changing all together (:re 1-53). Ayato’s andYomo’s too.

I can hear my voicefrom the mouth.That voice gave me a feeling of discomfort and it had become extremelydisgusting but, no one noticed that and everyone was under the impression thatit was indeed, my voice.

The voice of themonster inside, the ravenous beast of Ghoulishness – which, either masqueradingin human society or in the presence of Ghouls at home with their identities won’tcause anyone but you discomfort, because you’re either the only one whorecognises it or the only one who takes issue with it. Such is the Kirishimadilemma. Arata and Hikari’s efforts to live like humans saddled them with a lotof ‘Ghoul guilt’ that they have channelled in different ways – either subduingthat nature through Anteiku or throwing themselves headlong into it in Aogiri.

Sin isirresponsible. I’m getting tired of being forgiven.

Touka thinks that amurderer like her should die. Ayato doubtless struggles with his own actions inAogiri. Yomo has never forgiven himself for both allowing Hikari’s death andfailing to avenge her.

My shoulders haveeven forgotten about my legs. 

They bear the weight of things they don’t even know if they can carry - making themselves targets for the CCG being the most obvious example.

I open the doorwith the side of my arm.

They rush towards apossible salvation, slamming it open with their shoulder in typical Kirishimareckless fashion.

The path that Ishould’ve advanced in is gone and darkness pulled onto the horizon that layright beneath it.

…But are suddenlyheld back, sorrow and hopelessness closing in on their hearts when they realisethe path forward no longer exists. In Touka’s case, this wasKaneki’s ‘death’. In Ayato’s, the possibility of Hinami’s execution. InYomo’s, his failure to kill Arima.

“Come on, come on!Come on, come on!”

Nice duality herein that it could be their own inner thoughts expressing their frustration, orthe encouraging voice of their loved one pulling them forwards.

Go forward.Go back.Stop.

Same dilemma asbefore.

I can hear my voicefrom the bones.

“Did you know thatour voice is the mixed voices from dad and mom? No wonder it’s so disgusting.”

They fear repeating the tragedy their predecessors faced, recognising their own story in the bones and voices of their parents. Since :re is about breakingthat cycle, it’s a wise fear.

I pinched my noseand jumped down without a pause. Just like how a child would when jumping intoa pool.

 Again, theirtrouble with recklessness. In spite of their fear of repeating the past, oftenthey throw themselves directly into the situations they try to avoid. Touka’sinvestigator-killing past, Ayato’s time in Aogiri and Yomo’s quest to killArima all reflect Arata’s fixation with revenge. The metaphor suggests theirfixation is childish as well as dangerous.

Even thenever-stopping rain,even the never-breaking night,even the never-ending agony.

It’s surely there,it’s just that it wasn’t there until now.

The three livesthat began to spiral out of control with Hikari’s death. With each freshtragedy it seems like a whole new layer of darkness, becoming easier to lookback on lighter rainfall with rosy eyes.

Falling down,falling down.It’s as if right has become left.

What’s right,what’s wrong? Is it good to be human? Is it good to be Ghoul? And which arethey, now the lines are so blurred? They are lost in the plummet of confusion.

And on the brink of collision, I recall Björk’s song.

Now, Bjork has a lot of songs so I’ll go with the general consensus andassume this is referring to Hyperballad, since Ishida played it during his NewYear’s livestream. The lyrics refer to someone throwing off items from amountain so they can enjoy time with their loved one. This is very Ghoul andvery Kirishima – they have to sacrifice people by the score so that they canlive for the sake of spending that life with the ones they love. They must allfeed on humans to survive, but for more specific examples – Touka felt she mustkill investigators to protect Hinami, Ayato joined Aogiri to wipe out the CCGto protect Touka, and recently Yomo has disposed of Aura to protect Touka. Thesong also contains reference to suicidal thought, which I am sure they have allgrappled with, considering their rather blasé considerations for their ownlives.

Well, that’s just my take on it, but the words are definitely open to a wide range of interpretations, so who knows what lies ahead?

Every note in my phone 5

My final note before I kill myself I'm not actually going to kill myself. I'm letting the dying parts die. Say goodbye to them. Wow holy shit my whole back just got a wave of feeling. This is it. I know if I don't go for what I want I'm going to lose it. So I'm sharing everything that I have inside. Because I've been wanting to for a long time. For many reasons, some more noble than others. Daqui a pouco to escrevendo nas outras linguas. Hey duke Well, I have to completely go for what I want. You will know what that feels like. I had a dream last night that turned out to be symbolic of what happened today. Its not that hard because your subconscious mind always knows what's going on.I have a considerable amount of magic to my person but ill tell you now I lose things, I have anxiety attacks and a fixation on food and body type, and I'm telling you this because I can't let you think I'm a no faceted perfect lady. Hey lady. Molly plays with my feelings I wonder how many years that could last. As long as Natalie is my friend. Kad thinks I'm a Nazi. That makes me upset. Now I'm thinking about Mikala from midtown west. Dont know why. Cause I'm not a fucking Nazi damn. That's extremely offensive Why are all these thoughts coming into my head? Whups. Lost it again. Sex is sacred but our movies and tv shows over hype it and put ideas in our head. One time I told Jamie I was gay.I actually thought it was true at the time...that's such an awkward thing to explain. I know I don't have to fucking explain myself but I want to because I care that the other person is on the same page as me!! No I miss you too in a weird way I've been wanting to share all my real thoughts for a long time. And now is the only time because the last couple days I have been dangerously close to having a breakdown. I have been crying in the street for 2 days And I also have been wanting to tell everyone what I actually think all the time I think my problem is that I have a habit of thinking about things ruim like I just think about sad shit a lot. And my comfort levels are always unstable Shailesh balla I don't know whose name that is. Shoulda brought my journal but I didn't think I was going to want to write. I want to do something to soothe my worries. My top worries are money, food, having something stolen from me, being raped. Its weird that I'm so worried that someone is going to rape me when I haven't been raped in this lifetime. But I would always get strong images of being raped. Except I was black so it wasn't in this lifetime. I want to soothe my worries telling myself that expecting the worst isn't good for my health. My focus goes rotten sometimes. I have to go to where I want to go to. I'm grateful for what I have. And not in a lame way either. I think I'm most worried that something will be taken from me. Money or whatever. When has that caused my death? Only when I sunk into the sadness and grieving. Grieving for my jewelry. Don't have a choice but to keep going. My grandparents on my moms side were such a huge influence on me throughout my life What is life anyway? We are all here wondering what to do with ourselves. And I can only have these thoughts because I have money I wanna work like Malcolm x did Tryinng to soothe my chronic worrying. Maybe ill find a paradise somewhere. Kalien photograph Deangelo Silva Thais is a sexy name. I'm tired and a little gassy but I'm going to go out anyway to see what the fuss is about. Because I wouldn't be satisfied if I just went to sleep Reflecting on resentment. I can feel this is a strong hook. This is a strong feeling in my body. I resent the cruelty of survival in the midst of civilization built by half asleep beings. My thoughts lead me to duke and this is what I have to say about that. I resent being treated wrongly by him. He treated me wrongly because he was my soul mate and he was supposed to help me and love me through everything I can't have sex!!!!! I hate having sex with people that suck at itI Which is almost everyone I resent everyone because I am so shy it hurts to see people who I connect with sometimes. Something inside of me is very tender and sore and I have been neglecting her. She's not ready to see anyone. I can resent and I do. For. Not being there with his feelings and not being there with mine. But i have to admit its not fair of me to just expect someone to take on all my problems with me. And I know this has something to do with the fact that my mother would throw crying fits at me and I had no idea how to act. Because that's what you do right? You don't say anything to people so they think your nice and then you have an explosive breakdown on whoever gets caught in your shit. Right? Oops Still letting go of my feeling of resentment. I'm a self help queen. Not sorry. Maybe just a little bit. But listen, I'm actually getting somewhere in my emotions. The blocks I have to getting what I want are emotional so if I can move and change my emotional body, I'm set. Sex Everyone sucks at it except for Ursula and mau 90 percent of males I meet think about fucking me That's pathetic Don't you think you're craving a closeness?instead?no? I don't know you its not my business I acho que tó errada I can pretty easily see what I did wrong. But I'm a sad sack and its easy for me to get into self blame. Those thoughts make me really depressed. But I guess it doesn't matter I don't have to have a perfect personality I don't even have to have a personality NOT UP TO YOUR STANDARDS AM I DUKE? Oops I've said so many bitchy things to my friends who I love so much..somebody needs to slap me. I hope they can forgive me. Well we're still friends so... Who the fuck taught me to be afraid of everyone? Walking around feeling like I'm rotting from the inside and I can't trust anyone and yet I want to meet all their eyes and see what's inside. When you're thoughts are just swimming with someone else. Julia, Duke, Kaara Someone who I barely talk to. I'm the pathetic one. It feels good to think that right now...die ego die!!!! So I will begin to close of this meditation. I would like to let go of my resentment. It will be carried away by the strength of the planets. Just saying what I believe. A very powerful tool. I had to re-read what I had written and confront that maybe my focus is terrible because I live in an age full of distractions and sometimes I have to be distracted to avoid major depression and having a fit and getting arrested. Sometimes I want to just break the glasses in the cafes. Or the stores. That urge has been with me for months and I still haven't acted on it. Stay tuned. So if I'm letting go of resentment, I'm letting go of my feeling of entitlement to. I will always give myself the best of what I can. But I cannot live off of taking from other people.I don't want to. Their money or their prana. Sorry Kaara. Half asleep over here. You did it too. I liked your insecurity because I could feel better about myself. And my own insecurity. Someone shut me up nobody wants to hear about my emotions. Oh that thought again. I'm expressing myself not trying to.....be right...but I am I came down to the beach because I thought it would be the best place. I was living in the street for a week. I'm not now we are paying for a room. Its cheaper than anything else but this is such a popular location that its still a fair chunk of money. But its worth it to drink the healing waters (there's a natural fountain of groundwater. Clean and delicious if your gut can handle it. We wanted to leave but I think we were both resisting the healing....me and my friend rua. I'm paying for all of our food (and we're been to restaurants a few times) but its because I know my core beliefs are not in line with me keeping my money for myself. I think I jumped the gun a little here anyway. This is another topic. Dissolve my resentment. Sometimes I was treated wrongly. Sometimes I just felt entitled to get what I want and when whoever couldn't meet my needs, I get upset. Flashes of bring abused in past lives. Nothing I could write today. My collective head gets it but I needed to write for nova, the 3-d being I can't believe I'm missing that show I can't believe it I must be missing out fuck fuck fuck I have to be away I have to be here I am doing good here I am doing good here I just need something in my stomach to settle I need to sleep a little more. Ooohhh if I had some weed and I could sleep a little more id have it made. But I'm shyyyyyy There is a voice in the back of my head asking me to write and to learn new languages. God damn, I think I'm an Artist. After reading some writing by Patti Smith, I feel a little confused and jealous. My writing is so....unprretty specific and not artistic. I want to write something beautiful. If it is beauty I am after...well, I already know what that looks like. I already know who owns beauty. Earth beauty. Eternal beauty Nobody leave me alone. I wouldn't want to be alone anyway. On my own some angel meets me Oh maybe I can write pretty things Write an essay of something Masses of pissed off folk are gonna have something big to say in this life or next just you wait mr big shot. Big gun nuclear ammo. I bet you thought you could stop the art from saving us all. What rennessaince would you try to stop then who are you trying to stop and why don't you love me!? Mister big thing My boyfriend keeps me safe I don't love him but he's good company and when we have to have sex its pretty good I don't think he feels the same way. I think homeboy was looking for a real namorado. Never seen anyone who looked like me. I made a cheese sandwich for my friend and now I want one cause I ate them when I was a kid. I feel like a baby still! Cosmic smoke womb. I don't care, ill take it Bad coffee Oi viado Its not that hard to learn a new language if you think you can do it I have been waiting years to learn about the stars. I always new the universe was a synchronized conglomerate of matter, but coming across systems I can keep record of. Beleza There's a feeling that sometimes overcomes me in my dreams that I'm being choked and can't breathe. These mosquitoes are biting me Somehow I manage to superimpose my fears on reality. Na janela aberta entrou meu convidado da noite, meu inimigo pior e o amor infernal que guardo para me gozar And, choking, I cry out for help. Cry out to whoever can hear me and be here with me. I don't care who I have to hide from myself. Excuse me for a second. My heart saw a pain and took it. Walking around shopping malls My candy heart Left my heart in Mexico City She was bed-ridden like me. But that's beside the point. We were frantic when we met and frantic when you held my hand and I breathed my first sigh of relief there. He loves me. I'm squirming in my seat Left my heart in Mexico City I THINK about YOU STILL but I think its more about me than it ever was about you. Still in Mexico City With its booming economy And great tortillas. All the cars and things that make up a city nowadays I went backpacking and somebody loves me still Left it in Mexico City. Now the reason for me to write The greatest poem I've ever written We were saying goodbye. I said I wanted to stay and I meant it but I didn't think I was going to stay. I have to go to work Still in Mexico City He must have thought I was going to stay I should have stayed. But I was lost in my work and I couldn't find my rights. So I ended up in Brazil with a hurt sciatica nerve and he's still in Mexico City with my heart that I left there And I think about him still but its more about me...right? I am undeserving As the words form my heart (the one that came with me) remains confused I hope you pick up on this and reveal yourself to me. But you don't have to. I didn't mean to make you think I wasn't going to leave. I was always going to leave. Tipo assim. But I just wanted to stay... Left my heart in Mexico City My back is cracking way too much it hurts and this can't be good for me. I want to go home. Wheere is home? My back is stressed out. I'm worried. Worried not looking I don't think I've ever been so offended. I just lost a friend. Telling me about my insufferable privilege. Hiding. I don't want to pay because I can live without money...........and fuck me if its only my privilege that lets me do that and think like that and write like this. I'm going to do it. I understand that I am privileged I feel incredibly guilty like I am not like, worthy of love because I have money But I never tell people that because no one will ever understand! Sad because I have money. Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous I should be rejoicing but I'm not I I just want to die and be buried in my 10000 reais and die. Every time I hear the word money I wanna die. Give it all away slowly to people who appreciate it. Rua never hears me. I don't have time for that. I just need to sort out my thoughts A new poem Sugar eaters God again god blessed to have you to have found you Walking down the street in my hometown new york city Walking down the aisles but I'm in my mind Again Blessed are these sugar crystals that feed my teeth eaters we're sugar eaters blessed are these sugar crystals And a calm comes over us A little upset a little unrest its all the sugar eaters eating your teeth. My words are twisted like mind. You have to run around loaning me your time. How lucky I am to have found you. You bring me sweet coffee and I do not resist. The hot sun beats and we refuge in the shade. Our hot Brazil sun but I am walking down the aisles in my mind in my hometown I have money for all the sugar crystals I could ever need. But she doesn't want to have it from me. Blessed are these sugar crystals brought to us by the sugar goddesses, just trying to be sweet. Just trying to be sweet I have all the money I need Try to be sweet I have all the money I need There's something under the surface you're not seeing units swimming under. Your feet and I feel a little bit afraid. That the whole. Thing is going to collapse and crumble under my feet. Or lava will come up of its will and displace all of us Walking around with latent fear There's something under your feet maybe a bug lurking in your belly You're writing because you're a smart girl. You get into a new feeling and slip away quietly. You left. Joker Is jesting Later I saw him crying I had a flash of the future And it didn't come true exactly butt I swear I saw something like it My privilege is a bunch of dead flowers My privilege is rotting fruit More privileged than you for not having the need of water Have to walk miles for water I had to walk about 10 minutes for water and I felt a little bit like a prophet, or something of the sort Live in a house Live in a city In a country where you are not under threat of being bombed Your house could be bombed My privileges are rotting Watch tv Hear about the wars Light up your green and laugh with your friends Until your gut hurts We are friends, I don't want to take it there again My privileges are rotting fruit My journal January 25th 2017 Sitting in my boyfriends bedroom inn araial dajuda. I hope he's watching me. He has been my boyfriend for a few days only. I asked him what he wanted today and he said "I want what you want" my heart just about melted. I knew I liked him because I felt my heart get warm and I knew his lsd was pure, which is rare. And briefly, I am going to write some of the best poetry I have ever written. But not yet. I'm not ready Sometimes it's just not worth it and you have to let it go. But you always speak to the moment and you always try your hardest. And even though I have lice eggs in my hair I know the universe is going to protect me and my problems are going to pass. Write like I have a problem that needs airing out. But I don't have that mood exactly. My systems are more or less okay. Some of the best poetry I have ever written. He is the reason for my poetry. Nothing but a man and he's skinny. Taller than me and I don't think he can defend me. He has a penis and breath like everyone else but he sees energy and he loves seeing energy and neither of us understand it...but we love it and we want to know as much as we can about it. I need to.......oh right He will be the cause of the best poem I ever write. I don't know if I believe that. Money worries have to be let go of. I can't hold on to everything all the time. Universe synchronized. Daily mundane things going about your things and you just notice how good the breeze feels and that you're right by the sea in a beautiful city. Here isn't a good place to eat. My memory with Julia the rock star. Time to write my autobiography. But take it seriously. Make it right. I love my feelings so much I don't feel like I'm done writing. Nobody was really trying to con me that hard. Just trying to amuse themselves at the expense of others feelings. Uh, is that too bleak for you? Get over it. Gentrified vegan crab cakes. Oops. What? She's gonna kill me. I'm afraid and I have poop in my gut I feel it. I'm tired but something is missing. In tired to go to bed with my boyfriend who I just met but I know I love. In my way.too tired to worry His smell is intoxicating. That boy smell. She told me to follow my heart but I think my heart bate papo its not the strongest...but I can feel it. Morre than a lot of people could say. Stuffed some cotton in my underwear because my menstrual blood is releasing. And all this money and packaging. I'm hungry. Nobody understands me. I'm hungry. Nobody understands me. Nothing is in the way of me doing something except for me because I'm scared. I'm scared. This place has me held happily as prisoner. I give up. Rob me. Kill me. Not if I get you first. Writing for you writing for you. Nothing is stopping me except my fear and my concept about money I left arraial dajuda and now I want to go back because I was loving it....it was time for me to just take a break....I want to just stay with people who I know are my friends. I want to stay where I feel safe. And I want to kiss guilherme again. Its not fair that I could spend almost 500 reais just to try to get away. Fuck. I am going back because I feel the most happy that way. I don't want to be alone any more.... I don't want to be alone not knowing where the he'll I'm going and these things. If I was here alone and feeling fine....I could bee that person...maybe ... But I would rather just not be alone right now honestly. I don't wanna wait and wait until I feel love again. I want the love I felt already. I'm scared that I'm going to show up and I can't have him anymore...but I know that's not going to happen. Lice and all. I needed to leave. I regretted it pretty quickly Part of me wants to keep traveling forever...and another part wants to go home and be with my family again...or both. I don't know if I want to volunteer with this yogic nun in her biodiversity organic yoga thing. Part of me wants to go home. But I also have an intense interest in this. I don't know. It doesn't make sense to go back and forth. But I don't really wanna stay in the city of brasilia Make up for it. Compensate. Sitting at the bar alone. Like a character in a movie. Waiting on my love to walk in the door. Thinking many of the same things at once. Tired but I know I'm not going anywhere. Its so easy to fight your feelings and write what you didn't want to write something about the universal flow and how it affects you how your stars have been so aligned recently and how they always were bus you just didn't notice. I sit in a state of wonderment and disgust as I am interrupted by a greedy old man with no money making his presence very known to me Just remind yoself help remind your self. I need another distraction to distract me from the pain of needing to eat and needing to steal and depending on millions of other people for my food. I need another distraction. The earth is quickly dying as I see it, but I know people who think otherwise. I should have stayed in Brazil. My friends just want to poison themselves with alcohol and I want to run away with my love but I left him in Brazil. I need to eat For many years I've obsessed over my corporeal form, my body. What it says about me. I can't get out of this.....its my way of dealing with my feelings. Its just in my being but I mean, I'm gonna end up tearing out to shreds I already know. I can't stay here with these demons eating at me. I see real I wish I had someone with me. Makes me feel like I need to eat something. Probably end up a pedophile like my dad Why doesn't anyone understand thoughts and feelings? This is pathetic. I wish I had someone with me I could be screaming but she wouldn't hear. Known her for years I just want to be with her again. No one can stop me if I just show up Its so hard to feel things. Its so hard to actually sense things. This world is set up for profit for invention and for narcissism!! Oh god what did I do I slept with my ex I slept with my ex he's a beacon of truth like me or a liar I don't really know Cause its not that straightforward at all I can't just read mounds so easily as I wish I could but I'm not bad when you compare me to most people. I think that my new haircut suits me . on nahrt okay my own energy reading is a little faulty. . A few days later and unrealized how badly I am conpartmentalizing things I wish I wasn't so emotionally cold but I believe I have to be this way to be an artist...that can't be true. ... Get up and talk to someone but it tires me what's so bad about being tired I can't ignore my bodily needs why does it make you tired because they only like to hear certain things and I have to think about it.   Sometimes I write cause i don't know what else to do.. Like now...my head will hurt if I go talk to other people I'm just trying to maintain a high vibration no I'm serious this is town in doing it and I'm not belittling my mission no way I'm not gonna hurt myself I want to maintain a high vibration and sometimes its hard for me to do that when I talk to other people. But I can't let this exclude people from my reality because everyone is worthy of attention and love!!! Everyone is worthy of it and I'm not letting it go for all the money or all the fame in the world everyone's feelings matter sometimes I am the absolute worst when it comes to that. I want to message michael maybe he can distract me from my problems. Everryone does. He is different. He is just the same I knew I felt something strong with him I love his ambition and I want to see it develop and that means staying with him for a bit I want to see his ambition develop his!!I'm starting to think I gotta let go of that whole shit with sam, cause I don't really like being jealous. You know why my head really hurts? Cause I'm letting myself be alone too long . I'm obsessive is what I'm actually trying to say. I'm not sure who you think I am but I don't mind much. I'm not a cool person all I want from you is conversation and cuddles There's this black of my connection like I'm talking to a wall and not to michael I think I'm fucking up I could be talking to myself in various ways. Maybe his souls just close to mines anyway enough that it feels like I'm with myself? I'm aware of the seperateness but I really would rather live in the thought of we are all one soul