#same thing every year

[cattyfantastic]

Monday, Monday

*clears throat*

LET US DO OUR JOOOOOOOB!

Brought to you by, just get off my dick already.

[ilajue]

"6 feet expected" "historic snowfall" "state of emergency" stfu bitch

[stormsongt]

Couple of quick sketches to celebrate new years, as im doing the usual hanging around the house alone in my pjs. As in the first one, I did bake a cake for the new years ;P

Now, to crawl into bed and watch sonic christmas videos till midnight

[thegreatanimal]

Christmas shopping went well! and by well i mean i'm about to have a fucking melt down lol

[tantibus-aeternam]

"Uncle Noc noc, what are you gonna dress up as for Harrowing?"

A ghost.  

[pinkninjapj]

Read Along with Quincey Harker - Flies and spiders and birds

This is a Blood of My Blood reading of Dracula, based on the Bad Ending AU created by @ibrithir-was-here @animate-mush @bluecatwriter @see-arcane @thegoatsongs and others.

First Read Along post with context

All can be seen using the Quincey Read Along tag on my blog

Blood of My Blood full AU in order

Dr. Seward's Diary.

1 July.

Wait, what about Papa? Quincey knows, of course, that Papa survived the climb - Papa is alive, obviously, and not that he had any doubt in Papa's barefooted climbing. But the story has diverged so much from the story Quincey thought he knew, that he needs to understand it all.

His spiders are now becoming as great a nuisance as his flies, and to-day I told him that he must get rid of them.

Doctor John Seward is a spoilsport.

when a horrid blow-fly, bloated with some carrion food, buzzed into the room, he caught it, held it exultantly for a few moments between his finger and thumb, and, before I knew what he was going to do, put it in his mouth and ate it.

Quincey knew daytime people ate animals, but he didn't think they normally ate flies.

I scolded him for it, but he argued quietly that it was very good and very wholesome; that it was life, strong life, and gave life to him.

Hm, maybe Renfield was doing something unusual (he was in an asylum after all), but Quincey didn't want to think about eating right now.

he keeps a little note-book in which he is always jotting down something. Whole pages of it are filled with masses of figures, generally single numbers added up in batches, and then the totals added in batches again, as though he were "focussing" some account, as the auditors put it.

Ah excellent idea. Quincey still feels ill at ease from reading his Papa's journal, so he closes his eyes, leans back in his chair and imagines numbers. He takes the number of bats that lived in the caves outside the castle and multiplies that by the tiles on the eastern roof. Then he slowly whittles that number down. Dividing by the number of spokes on the wheels of his first carriage ride, divide by the cost of the trains he took. Divide by the points in the game of Jack's the children were playing when he arrived in London. Close, but not erased. If he adds the amount of petals in the flowers in Lu's hat, then minuses by the grains of salt that Lord Holmwood tipped over, he's left with 3. Quincey breathes in, then out. Minus Lord Holmwood, Doctor Jack Seward, and Lu.

There. Nothing.

He's ready to continue.

There is a method in his madness, and the rudimentary idea in my mind is growing.

What does it mean, madness?

he has parted with some of his pets and got a new one. He has managed to get a sparrow, and has already partially tamed it. His means of taming is simple, for already the spiders have diminished. Those that do remain, however, are well fed, for he still brings in the flies by tempting them with his food.

There's a mathematical procedure to this fellow's thinking, but Quincey gets the sudden image in his mind of Papa in the larder, weighing slabs of meat and baskets of vegetables, taking notes and measuring Quincey's growing height against the kitchen door, and he banishes the image from his mind.

[ainyan]

o tomorrow's your birthday? we're going to have you give a final exam then participate in an awards' ceremony so you don't get home until 8.

so glad I'm celebrating tonight and friday.

[phantom-of-the-bootys]

I've got a good feeling that this fall season, I'll actually get my first girlfriend at age 23 :) cuz if I don't, I'll just accept that I'll be alone forever and get a bunch of dogs