#I can smell this photo. also great now I’m homesick

[oliviainjapann]

May 17th- Odaiba, Barbeque, and TeamLab Planets

Today was the best day yet in Tokyo!! I decided to sleep a little extra and skip breakfast, and then quickly crammed for the quiz! We began our day by traveling to Odaiba! I had no idea what to expect here, as all I knew about it was from what I learned in the reading. I was excited to go to the Fujifilm Museum, however we quickly discovered that the museum no longer exists and all that is left there is the gift shop and observation globe. It was alright, but Tokyo Skytree clears. Then, we were all so hungry so it was time to go to the Japanese BBQ! This was so much fun and so delicious. I was at a grill with my friends and Serena was such a queen and was the grill master of the day. I was so impressed with her skills, and she cooked all of the meats so perfectly. The sausage and chicken was the best thing ever, and the view from the barbeque was also so incredible. Then, it was time for my favorite part of the day- TeamLab planets!!! I had been looking forward to this activity the whole time we’ve been here. We first got some delish chamomile lattes and pistachio and green tea ice cream- so amazing. Then it was our time to enter! Immediately off the bat we were immersed into the multi-sensual experience by walking through water. I thought this was genius to start with as it washed everyone feet for the rest of the exhibits! The first official room we hit was the beautiful dangling lights one. It felt SO magical to be surrounded by all the twinkling lights, and it felt like I was surrounded by a galaxy of stars. We took so many photos here and appreciated all of the different colors that transitioned. The magical music that played in the background was so peaceful and completely upped the experience to a whole other level. The next room took us up to our knees in water- I had to hold most of my long skirt in my hands. It was really cool here because the water was cloudy and was able to illuminate fish swimming around us in circles! We then dried our feet and entered a room where you lied down in the center and watched a series of flowers and plants rotate around you. This was pretty cool but did make me a little dizzy. Then we went into a room with gigantic bouncy balls which was so fun and brought me back to childhood. My favorite room was the final one with the flowers hanging from the ceiling. The sign outside described how the flowers interact with you, and that the closer you get to the flowers the more they interact with you, and you become one with the flowers! We entered by crawling below the vines, and once we reached a spot we liked, we just laid down and observed the flowers moving up and down. The pastel colors were absolutely beautiful, and it smelled so fresh and clean. We were sad this was the last room, so you know what we did? We went through the whole exhibit once again!! This time we just immersed ourselves without photos and enjoyed our last moments here. After this we heading to DiverCity mall to shop around but then got hungry fast so we got yummy Indian that hit. When we left the mall, on our walk to the station, we saw the most beautiful sunset ever. This was actually the first sunset I was able to see here! It was so incredible to see the sun setting behind the buildings of Tokyo, with the rainbow bridge in the background as well. I’m currently on the train ride back, and seeing the sunset is making me emotional that we only have one more day left in Tokyo. I went into this trip hoping the days would go by fast because I thought I would be so homesick, but now I want time to rewind so I can experience all my days here again! Tokyo, I love you!!

Academic Reflection

Today’s reading about Odaiba was very relevant to our experience at Odaiba. I thought it was so interesting to learn about what Odaiba was and why it was established. The text described how recently there has been a push to create consumption based spaces and this has had a great influence on the development of cities. The contrast of Odaiba to the rest of Tokyo was unmatched. The mainland contains so much rich history and beautiful temples, shrines, and traditional Japanese architecture and features, while Odaiba is so modern and technologically advanced. It was also much more open and felt very vast, and it felt like it was not as dense or cluttered with people. It is clear that this island was made to give off a more futuristic and perfect image of Japan in order to generate money and popularity through the theme-parkesque town.

The text also described how the three elements of work, play, and leisure were all supposed to be portrayed here, however it did not work as well as they had hoped. It is a difficult challenge to combine all three aspects in a cohesive and sustainable way. Also, when we arrived at the FujiFilm area, it almost felt dystopian to be there. As the reading described, it was very insightful to see how many films and anime that Fujifilm has control over, and how vast this company is in this country and outside of it. I wish we got to actually see the studio like we had hoped, but nevertheless it was interesting to see this gigantic building with the sphere of the top. This building demonstrates the work part of Odaiba, while also incorporating some play with it being a tourist attraction. I do prefer mainland Tokyo to Odaiba, but it was a cool experience to see both sides of this wonderful city.

[athenasbloodyspear]

Don’t Make Me Beg Now Baby

CHAPTER ONE: EDGE OF DARKNESS

Hello fellow Greta Van Freaks. This is my very first Greta fic! I hope you enjoy.

MASTERLIST

Note: This fic contains mature themes, discussions of past non-con (no members of GVF involved) and drug use. Minors DNI. 18+ only and please take care of yourselves. (See Ao3 for full tag list)

You can also read this fic on Ao3 if you prefer!

Jake Kiszka x Original Female Character

Picture this: The boys are in Northern Michigan to write the new album and they meet a wild young woman who works at a local record store who has a rough history with rock bands.

She doesn’t want to fall into the same traps she fell into before. He doesn’t want to hurt her.

The rest of them just want them to figure their shit out.

Note: While this fic is based on the members of Greta Van Fleet, I obviously do not know them personally (lol) and nearly 99% of this is a fever dream I decided to write down. Some tid bits are based on things said in interviews/photos/songs but please do not come for my neck if you dislike my portrayals as this is a STORY that I have entirely made up.

This will be a slow burn, overly dramatic, cliché fest of me missing my Mitten State and wishing more than anything I could move back home. Their music makes me homesick and for that I’ll never forgive them. ;)

Chapter Under the Cut

CHAPTER ONE: EDGE OF DARKNESS

The tiny bell on the door to “The Edge” clanked as Jake pushed his way in, followed by Josh, Sam and Danny. The afternoon sun streamed through the slats in the windows at a harsh angle, illuminating the swirling dust. The boys all immediately took a deep breath. They all loved the smell of this place. A mix of dusty old vinyl's, incense and weed. 

The Edge was the shop owned by an old friend, Levi, who had been a longtime family friend of the Kiszka’s. The boys had made the near three hour drive to the shop whenever they had a spare weekend in their younger years. They bought Levi out of his guitar strings and drumsticks and always looked through the boxes of vinyl's hoping to find treasures. Levi sold an eclectic mix of music equipment, records, books, home goods and comically horrific coffee. 

The Edge is where they had each bought their very first instruments, had their first beers and even smoked their first joint. It was a special place for them. 

The old wood floors creaked with every step, the wood walls were covered with old articles from Rolling Stone, photos Levi had taken and autographs from the artists who had cycled through the place over the years. There were stacks upon stacks of vinyl's. Shelves of old autobiographies and music theory books. There were speakers stacked from floor to ceiling, and the whole right side of the store was jam packed with basses and guitars. The back corner had a few keyboards and a drum set, but plenty of catalogues to pick even more instruments from. There were cases of drumsticks and guitar picks and strings. The middle of the store had tables full of incense, candles and interesting home goods. There were tables where local artists sold jewelry, art pieces and furniture. It was full to the brim, most shelves rising way up to the ceiling. Most needed a ladder to reach the top. The basement had a sound studio with even more equipment set up to be used to record, or to test out. 

Levi had inherited the place from his father, who had built up quite a legendary roster of friends over his years. The shop was just off Front Street on the main drag of Traverse City. Levi’s father had made a name for himself as a great host to bands looking to escape to northern Michigan to hole up in cabins and write albums. Levi continued the tradition and took it a step further by buying the space next door and turning it into a club with live music on the weekends. 

If you were lucky, you could catch some super huge bands playing for only about 100 people in the dark side room of The Edge. 

“You bastards finally made it!” Levi called out as he came sauntering out of the back room. Levi looked the exact same as the last time the boys had seen him. Tanned skin from his days paddle boarding and hiking along the Lake Michigan shore, sandy blonde hair that was brighter in the summer, perpetual 5-o-clock shadow because he just couldn’t be bothered to shave, shell necklace around his neck, light wash jeans low on his hips with the same old cowboy boots he’d been wearing since the boys were 12. 

“Is that grey hair I see Levi?” Josh leaned forward with an exaggerated squint. Levi laughed, snagging Josh’s head to give him a noogie. 

“I may be older than you punks by a few years, but I’m not greying yet.” Levi released Josh from his headlock and gave him a shove. 

“I’d say 37 is more than a few years older than us, grandpa.” Sam snarked. 

“You’re makin me regret extending my hospitality, kid.” 

Jake felt himself relax fully for the first time in a really long time. It was just like old times. Exactly what the boys needed. 

“Welcome back dudes. I’m surprised I’m still cool enough for you Rockstar types.” Levi crossed his legs and leaned back against the front counter. 

“We’ll never be too cool for The Edge. This place will always be way cooler than we could ever be.” Danny piped up, walking forward to wrap Levi in a hug. 

“It’s been too long man.” Levi commented as he smacked Danny on the back. 

“We know.” Sam said “Way too fuckin long.” He hugged Levi next. Josh and Jake followed up with hugs next. The room was heavy with a tinge of melancholy. Old friends who had missed each other finally reunited. 

“Well, have you guys been to the house yet?” Levi stepped around the counter and started pouring four cups of the famous nasty coffee. 

“Yeah we dropped our bags off before we headed into town.” Danny spoke up. 

“Isn’t it sweet?” Levi asked enthusiastically. 

“It’s wicked man. Thanks so much for getting that set up for us.” Josh grinned as he snagged a cup off the counter. 

The house was a mid century modern cabin right on the east bay shore. It came equipped with a huge garage studio, front deck and a dock out into the bay. Levi had bought the house in foreclosure and along with help from a bunch of locals (in exchange for beer of course) they turned the house into a perfect getaway for any artists looking to come take a break up north. The place had five bedrooms and three bathrooms with a giant living room with overstuffed couches and velvet chairs. The walls were covered in art and the shelves were full to bursting with plants. It was a kaleidoscope of colors and textures,  with mix matched rugs and lamps. It was Levi’s pride and joy. 

“I’m so glad you guys like it.” Levi smiled even bigger as he passed coffees to the rest of the boys. “Once you’re a little more settled, feel free to send me a list of equipment you want me to set up downstairs and you can start coming in whenever to work. But also, I think you should probably take a week or two off first. You all look about two seconds away from collapsing.” 

“Yeah we’re pretty fuckin beat dude. But we’ll send you a list ASAP.” Jake said, taking a burning sip of the coffee. It singed his nerve endings and he couldn’t have been happier about it. 

Levi opened his mouth to speak again, when a voice filtered through the window to the loft above the store. 

“Yo Levi!” the person shouted “Can you please get off your fuckin ass and pick music to play? I know Wednesdays are your day to pick but if you take forever I’m just gonna put on whatever I want and you can suck it.”

All four boys' heads snapped up to the window to the loft, but whoever was up there couldn’t be seen. All they could see was that the loft had clearly gotten a makeover. What used to be an upper level where Levi stored surplus supplies now looked like it had a plush velvet couch, lava lamps and plants in it. 

“Alright alright! I’ll get on it.” Levi called back up, shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he walked toward the central sound system behind the counter to scroll through Spotify playlists. 

“Who the fuck is that and what have you done to the loft?” Josh asked, hopping up to sit on the counter. 

“That would be the very best thing that’s ever fallen into my lap. A.k.a my new store and venue manager Maven. She moved back to the area after living in Hollywood for a few years managing bands and she completely changed my life. We finally have consistent stock, a longstanding line up at the club and I have had the time to start photography again. Truly a godsend, if not occasionally a pain in my ass. She turned the loft into a breakroom of sorts.  There’s a couch and table up there now. She practically lives up there sometimes.” 

“Damn she must be some woman if she finally got you to get your shit together with that club.” Sammy piped up. 

“She’s hellfire, I’ll tell yah that.” Levi chuckled, finally hitting play on a playlist. The first bars of Surfin USA by the Beach Boys came on the surround system and matching groans came out of Jake downstairs and Maven upstairs. 

“Not this shit again!” Maven yells. Jake chuckled to himself. Hellfire indeed. 

“It’s my day to pick so suck it!” Levi called back before faux stage whispering to the boys “I mostly just play this to piss her off.”

Levi clapped his hands together once “Well boys, It’s close enough to five o'clock and I owe you a beer. Let’s head over to Little Fleet for some grub and beers and we can catch up.” 

Josh grimaced as he sucked down the last bit of his coffee before lobbing the empty cup into the trash at the end of the counter. “You still make shit coffee Levi.” 

“It’s the one thing I wouldn’t let Maven fix.” Levi said with a grin as all five men exited out the back door. 

                                                           ~0~

The boys took a week to relax, as per Levi’s request. They spent the days hiking the shore, kayaking and drinking beer around the fire. It had been way too long since they’d done this. The release of The Battle at Garden’s Gate had been exhilarating and the fans' response had been everything they’d hoped for. People seemed to love the album and they were all so proud. But with press interviews and touring, they hadn’t gotten more than a day or two to relax at a time. And they certainly hadn’t gotten a chance to get back to their favorite old haunts in years. 

They stopped by the store almost every morning for a cup of coffee strong enough to jumpstart their hearts. Sometimes Levi joined them on their escapades, and sometimes he stayed behind to help out at the store. The boys spent a few afternoons sifting through albums and strumming on some of Levi’s vintage guitars. 

Mostly they caught up on each other's lives. The boys recounted their more personal lives that happened outside the coverage of the album and Levi talked about the past few years of his life in Traverse City. Levi told them all about Maven and how she was practically his little sister. They laughed. They drank. They had a blast. 

The boys noticed Levi was a little on edge occasionally, typically when they heard someone shuffling upstairs or equipment moving around in the backroom of the shop. They assumed it was Maven but weren’t sure, since they had yet to see her in the flesh. A week from their arrival they were all sitting in lawn chairs in the alley behind the store, smoking cigs and drinking their coffee when Sam finally asked. 

“So, why haven’t we met your precious Maven yet? Hiding her from us or something?” 

Levi shifted a bit in his chair. “Um..” he coughed out a laugh. “I am actually. Yes. But it’s the other way around, I’m hiding you from her.” 

“Afraid she’ll fan-girl or something?” Josh commented as he ashed his cigarette.  

“In… a sense.” Levi coughed. “But in quite the opposite way you’re imagining.” 

“She’s a fan then?” Sammy piped up.

“She loves your music. A lot.” Levi sniffed and coughed again. “It’s a real safe haven for her. When she’s having a bad day I catch her upstairs laying on the floor smoking a J with sound cancelling headphones blasting your albums as loud as she can.” 

“Exactly how it’s meant to be enjoyed. With a joint in hand.” Jake chimes in.  

“Yeah..” Levi toes the asphalt a bit with his boots, but doesn’t continue.

“Soooo” Sammy drawls “Why can’t we meet her? We’re no stranger to super fans. I’m sure she’s cool.” 

“Um, well. It’s a bit complicated.” Levi heaves a sigh before flicking his cigarette butt into the coffee canister at the center of their little circle. “I suppose I can trust you guys. You’re friends. Do you remember the huge lawsuit that the band Undercover Heart went through last year? The one about the um” He coughs again, “Rape of one of their staff members by the lead singer Ryan?” 

“Yes. That shit was horrific man.” Danny spoke up. “I read all the details I could. They kept the poor girl's identity private but goddamn I felt so bad for her. She was a badass for filing that suit though.” 

“Yeah. She was.” Levi breathed. “So, this is strictly off record and if you repeat this to anyone I will skin you all alive, famous rock stars be damned.” 

“Jesus Levi.” Jake said. 

“It was her.” Levi choked out. “Maven. That’s why she ran back from Hollywood and ended up here. That dude messed her up and she just… she struggles with meeting famous bands now. You know how many people cycle through this joint writing stuff. She just… has a really fuckin hard time with it sometimes. Particularly bands she likes. I think it’s because once you meet someone, and in her case, discover how much of a monster they can be, their music isn’t… safe anymore.” 

“Fuck.” Jake said, flicking his cigarette into the canister. 

“Well I feel terrible for joking about her being a fangirl.” Josh mutters. 

“She just genuinely loves you guys a lot. I never really told her I was an old friend because I didn’t want her to be worried about y’all stopping by. I just know that if she knows you’re here she’ll take off and avoid coming by the shop as much as she can and not only do I need her here, but I think she needs the safety of the shop too. I didn’t want to wreck it.” Levi sighs again. “I know she’ll find out you’re here eventually, it’s inevitable. I just was a coward and didn’t want to break the news to her.” 

“She was a pretty well known band manager wasn’t she?” Danny asks. “She like… completely made Undercover Heart what it was. Before they hired her they were slated to be a one hit wonder but she hauled them into relevancy basically by her will alone.” 

“Yeah. She basically built that man's career for him. She gave him everything, and he took everything from her. If I ever see the man I’m liable to get my ass thrown in prison.” Levi mutters.

“I’ll help.” Danny says immediately. 

All five sit in silence for a few minutes, smoking the last of their cigarettes. When they’d all finished, they stood and stretched to head back inside the shop. 

“So yeah. Anyway, If you see her that’s fine, just… well now you have context for… her.” Levi says as he yanks open the door. 

A few steps into the back hallway, Levi suddenly halts, causing all four boys to nearly bash into each other. The front door to the shop had crashed open and there were footsteps stomping across the store toward the front desk. 

“Listen Levi,” Maven’s tense voice carried down the back hall. “I know Wednesdays are usually your day for music but I’m having an absolute shit fucking day so I’m playing Greta all day and there’s absolutely nothing you can fucking do about it, kapeesh?” 

The very opening chords of Edge of Darkness scratch through the speakers after she finishes her sentence and the boys all exchange a slightly amused look, grins spread on all of their faces. 

“Kapeesh.” Levi calls out to her. He spins and silently nods to the boys to head toward the back door. The boys attempt to be as quiet as they can as they creep toward the door. 

“Also, Levi?” Maven calls again. Everyone halts in their tracks. “You said there was a band coming in soon. Are they here yet? Do you need me to set up the backroom?” 

“Uh, yeah they’re here.” Levi squeaks. All five men share nervous looks. “They’re uh… up at the house.” He cringes at his lie. “I’m getting an equipment list from them today and then you can get started. 

“Cool cool.” Maven calls back. “Do you think I’ll like their stuff?” 

“Uh. Yeah.” Levi grins then. “I think you will.” 

“Wicked.” Maven calls back. 

All five men repress giggles as they skedaddle out the back door and into the alley. 

                                                        ~0~

The next morning the boys wake up to a group text from Levi. 

COME BY THE SHOP ASAP. COME IN BACK DOOR. HEAD DOWN THE STAIRS TO THE BOOTH. BE AS QUIET AS YOU CAN. 

A weird request, but they did as they were told. They all piled into the SUV they had rented and headed to the shop. Danny peeled open the back door as quietly as he could, and Sammy opened the door to the stairs. They tiptoed down and through the door at the end of the stairs that opened into the booth of a sound studio. Levi sat in front of all the mixing boards with a cup of coffee to his lips. He glanced over at them and softly said “coffees on the table.” 

“Why the weird text?” Jake asked. 

“Because of that.” Levi responded softly, pointing through the dark glass into the soundstage. 

The sound stage was littered with mismatched rugs, and a few milk crates that doubled as tables. There was a gorgeous seafoam green drum set toward the back wall and stands full of various guitars and basses. Along the left wall was a piano and a Mellotron set up exactly to the specifications Sam sent over. However, with all these beautiful instruments to look at that would normally catch their eye, it was the woman sitting on stool in the center, cradling a dark purple Fender guitar that made Jake stop in his tracks. 

Maven, Jake had to guess that’s who it was, was wearing checkered distressed pants, with a ripped up old band t-shirt cropped at her ribs, revealing a sliver of the rounded part of her stomach. Over top she was wearing an orange leopard print cardigan that ran down to her thighs. Around her neck was a series of long necklaces, and her wrists were adorned with interlacing leather bands. 

She was plucking out a melody with her eyes closed, rocking back and forth on the stool. Jake had seen countless numbers of people playing the guitar before. On the road, in the studio, studying old masters on YouTube. There was nothing overly special about the way she was sitting or playing, but he felt a little bit like he couldn’t breathe. 

“She never fuckin plays anymore man.” Levi whispered. “It felt like magic hearing music coming out of the basement this morning. I just felt like you should see it.” 

The melody she was playing was sad. Haunting is a better way to put it, and Jake couldn’t look away. Not even when Sammy placed a cup of burning hot coffee into his hands. She was moving her head along with her playing, the strands of her dark messy hair shaking back and forth. The group watched in silence as she played out the riff a few times, Levi cranked the volume of the mics in the space and they could hear her humming softly. 

“She has a strong presence.” Josh murmured. 

Maven suddenly stopped. Everyone froze as she heaved a sigh and stood from the stool to put the guitar back on it’s rack. 

“You in there Levi?” Maven said then. The boys still didn’t move a muscle. Jake’s head was spinning, having finally seen the face that went with the voice he’d heard in the loft for a week. She was beautiful. He couldn’t even really put his finger on why, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even seeing her through the thick dark glass of the studio. 

Levi hit the button to the mic in the booth and responded “Yah.” He paused before adding. “Sounded good.” 

Maven snorted in a self-deprecating way and said “Thanks.” 

Levi hit the mic button again and said “You should play more.”

“Don’t push it Levi.” Maven snapped back. Levi released the button to his mic and let out a heavy sigh. “Can you check some levels on the lines for me? I think I have everything pretty good but I want to make sure before they get here today.” 

“Sure.” Levi replied. 

Maven pulled the amp cord out of the Fender she had been playing on and plugged it into another guitar, one more similar to the guitars that Jake regularly used while they wrote. 

“Are we looking for a punk or a rock-y sound?” Maven asked. 

“Um.” Levi hesitated. “Rock. Their sound is like…” He tossed a small smile over his shoulder at the boys. “Like Greta’s actually.” 

“Dope. I hope they’re not just copying the boys. They’ve got a mellotron in here and everything.” The boys smiled. She pounded out a few chords on the guitar. “Good?” 

Levi looked over at Jake for confirmation. Jake, who still had not taken his eyes off Maven, nodded. 

“Yeah, that should be good for raw sound. They can play with stuff too. They’re a pretty well educated bunch.” Levi called back.

“Thank god.” Maven snorted. “Not like that indie punk bunch you booked last month who needed me to do fucking all their sound mixing for them.” 

“Maven, I don’t think they kept asking you down here because they need help with their sound.” 

Maven just rolled her eyes at that.  

They repeated the process with each instrument, Levi silently asking for confirmation from the respective Greta member until they were sure the sound lines were all functioning properly. 

“Great work kid.” Levi called into the studio. 

“Ew don’t call me kid. I’m a 27 year old woman.” Maven called back. 

Levi chuckled. “You’re a kid to me.” 

“Whatever.” Maven muttered. “I’m gonna go take a walk along the beach. Smoke a little. Text me if they need me.” 

“Will do.” Levi called back. The boys all tensed, looking for places to hide, or to run up the stairs and back into the alley. Luckily, Maven took the back door out of the studio and up another hallway instead.

“Well boys, it’s all you.” Levi said. “Text if you need anything.” 

Sam piped up and said “Yeah actually, can you pick my brother’s jaw up off the floor?” 

“Jake see pretty lady play guitar and Jake brain break.” Josh teased. 

“You guys suck.” Jake grumbled. 

Levi cackled. “I thought you’d like her.”  

                                                        ~0~

Maven walked along the coast of the bay and absentmindedly smoked a joint. It was an overcast and drizzly day which meant there was no one around, which she preferred anyway. She was feeling on edge. The drizzle was very slowly building a small sheen of water on her arms and hair, but she didn’t mind. The cool water and gentle breeze combination was perfect. 

Maven sat her butt down in the sand and stared out at the waves. She normally wore headphones on her walks, her world was a near constant stream of music, but she had opted for silence today. 

Levi was being weird. He was edgy around her all week, sending her out every morning for tasks and disappearing without saying where he was going around 4:30 every day. She had come to the conclusion that whatever band was in town this week was a pretty big name. Or big enough that he was nervous about her being around them. She sighed. She hated when he tiptoed around her. Maven didn’t blame him. When she first started working at the shop she had had a couple pretty bad PTSD episodes that had scared the shit out of him. She owed him everything for staying with her, talking her down and making sure she was fed and had water when she got into one of her states. 

Levi was her best friend, to put it mildly. He cared for her, kept her safe and in return she busted her ass at his store making sure they had the best products, the best shows and that their artist getaway was something that people would go back and tell their friends about. She loved Levi like an older brother, and he cared for her like his little sister. She would forever be grateful to whatever power in the universe made her stumble into The Edge two years ago. 

She had been high out of her mind, as she had been most days after she came running back to Michigan with her tail between  her legs, and Levi had been struggling with an amp in the shop. She had walked in, spotted his struggle and didn’t even say a word to him, just walked over and fixed the wiring so that it was functional again. Levi had looked up from where he sat on the floor and said “You don’t happen to need a job do you?” 

The rest was essentially history. It only took two months of seeing him every single day, and him not letting her sour moods go by unnoticed, for her to spill her guts over some bourbon one night. About Ryan and Undercover Heart and how badly the whole situation fucked her up. How after she’d recorded her testimony she’d boarded the next flight to Grand Rapids and hightailed it up north. She came crash landing into Traverse City because she’d always loved it as a kid, and figured it would be a great place to start over. The small town she’d grown up in had too many people who knew her. 

He was extra careful with bands for a while. Never letting her be alone in a room with too many male band members, and carefully vetting everyone who came through. Eventually she told him off about treating her like a porcelain doll and he backed down a bit, giving her free reign over lots of the equipment set ups and giving her plenty of hours in the shop by herself. She was happy to do so, so Levi could focus on fixing up the artist house and starting his photography again. 

But he was still very gentle with her sometimes, and she’d always love him for it even when it pissed her the fuck off. 

Once she’d smoked the joint down to the roach, she tucked the end into her pocket. It was sacrilegious to litter near the lake. It was too precious to be fucked with. She meandered back toward the shop. Her plan was to grab her bag and head back to let her Pitbull, Stacy, out for a walk and pee. The girl had been cooped up all morning and Maven felt bad. 

She threw her whole body against the front door, as the latch often stuck, and the loud sound of the chimes clanged in the empty space. She rolled her eyes. Of course Levi left the shop unattended and unlocked. It was Traverse City, no one was gonna rob them, but what if someone wanted to buy something? 

She was humming softly to herself as she made her way around the edge of the counter and plopped down on the stool by the register. She whipped out her phone to ask Levi where he was. She had the message halfway typed when the door behind her, the one that led to the staff restroom, popped open. 

“You know, crime is especially low in this town but that doesn’t mean someone wouldn’t come in here and try to steal your precious coffee maker.” She tossed over her shoulder. 

“Oh.” Was all that came back. It was decidedly not Levi’s voice. Maven spun back quickly. 

“Sorry I…” But that’s as far as she got. She was suddenly face to face with Jake Kizska and all thoughts quickly left her brain. 

They both stared at each other for a long moment. Maven couldn’t quite figure out why he looked just as shocked to see her as she was to see him. He also almost looked afraid for some reason that Maven couldn’t figure out.

He was dressed in an outfit she’d seen him wear plenty of times. A black button up, half unbuttoned, loose fitting light wash jeans and a pair of well worn boots. His wrists were full of bracelets and his hair was longer than the last time she’d seen footage of their concerts, well past his collarbones at this point. 

“Hi.” Jake finally broke the silence. “I’m Jake.” He reached out his hand for a handshake. 

“I know.” Maven replied, and then coughed. Why did you say that you freak? 

Suddenly the front door bell chimed again, and Maven whipped her head to see Levi coming in the front door. She stood abruptly from her stool, skirted around Jake’s outstretched hand, and out from behind the counter. She scooped up her leather satchel on her way. 

She headed straight at Levi. He glanced over his shoulder and saw an apologetic Jake looking forlorn and lowering his hand back to his side. 

“Oh hey Maven-” 

“Hey dumbass, don’t leave the store unattended again. I’m going home to check on Stacy. Probably won’t be back for the rest of the day.” Maven spit as she stormed past him toward the front door. 

“Maven wait-” 

But she was already outside, the hinges bringing the heavy wood crashing back into the frame. The chime of the bells rang through the space. 

“Sorry.” Jake muttered. 

“Not your fault. I knew she’d find out eventually. Right now she’s probably just pissed I didn’t tell her. Which she has every right to be.” Levi sighed. 

After a few more beats of silence Jake spoke again. “Who’s Stacy?” 

Levi huffed a laugh. “That would be her Pitbull.” 

“Oh.” Jake said again. He felt crazy because his brain couldn’t come up with anything else to say. She was prettier up close. She smelled like the Lake and weed and sandalwood. He really wished she’d taken his hand. He shook his head trying to find his brain in it somewhere. 

The other three boys came clambering up the stairs and into the store. They all looked between Levi, who was still standing in the middle of the shop, and Jake behind the counter. 

“Are you two playing freeze tag or something?” Sam quipped. 

“Jake met Maven.” Levi responded. The boys' heads whipped toward Jake. 

“And… I’m guessing it… went well?” Danny questioned.

Levi finally walked back toward the counter. “She left for the day. This is on me. I should have told her y’all were here.” He snagged his keys from below the counter and walked toward the front door to lock up. “I’m closing early, boys. Let’s go get a beer.” 

“Kowabunga baby.” Josh said with a grin.  

                                                     ~0~

Maven sat curled up on her velvet couch, Stacy was her little spoon. There was incense burning, a bottle of wine open on the side table and a lit joint in the ashtray. She had changed into a giant t-shirt and boxer shorts. The soft sounds of John Denver playing off her record player. 

However, none of these things were easing her mind. 

She was pissed, mostly. At herself. At Levi. She was pissed he didn’t tell her they were coming. She was pissed that he felt he couldn’t tell her. She was pissed that she had acted like a freak in front of Jake. 

The anxiety was an endless pit in her stomach. She couldn’t go back there tomorrow. She couldn’t see any of those people. Not when she felt like this. 

She whipped out her phone and quickly shot a message to Levi, before chugging her whole glass of red wine and snagging the joint out of the ashtray. 

                                                        ~0~

Levi’s phone dinged on the table where all of the guys sat drinking beers and chatting. Levi glanced at it and quickly picked it up when he saw her name. 

“It’s Maven.” He said. 

“What did she say?” Jake asked, sitting up a bit in his chair. 

“Fuck.” Levi said, tossing his phone on the table, still unlocked. 

All four boys leaned in to read the screen. 

CASHING IN ALL MY VACATION DAYS. I’LL BE OUT FOR TWO WEEKS. 

“Fuck indeed.” Josh said, pounding back the rest of his beer.

#jake gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #greta fic #jake fic #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta fan fleet fic #peaceful army

[masonscig]

antidote

pairing | mason x sofía

word count | 2.4k

warnings | mention of rook’s death and breaking her wrist when she was a kid, so you know. a little angst. some suggestive language towards the end!

author’s note | so this is my late entry for day one of warm in wayhaven, cooking – as usual when i’m writing these two i can’t shut up for the life of me

•─────────────────•

He wakes up from his first nap in a week to the smell of chicken.

There’s only one person in the entire warehouse that could be cooking at 2 in the morning without burning the place down.

He trods barefoot down the dark hallway, his sweatpants hung low off his hips.

Putting on pants was a formality, really. But he had roommates that’d have aneurysms over anything less, so he’s usually at least half clothed when he ventures outside of his room.

The smell gets a lot stronger, mixes with other scents the closer he gets.

Her heartbeat’s stronger in his ears, though, so he keeps going, despite the way his nose is crinkled and his fists are clenched.

When he makes his way to the kitchen, he stops at the doorway, perching his hip against the frame.

She’s pulled a chair up to the stove, chin balanced on her knees that are up against her chest.

Her eyes are glued to the big silver pot that sits there, steam leaking out from the ventilation tiny holes in the lid.

Her hair’s tossed up in a messy bun, and from the glimmer of light from the overhead light above the stove, he can see that a few strands are plastered to the back of her neck and forehead.

She reaches out to twist the knob all the way to the left, then struggles to pick the pot up.

Despite him not announcing himself, he’s next to her in a flash, moving the pot to the other burner in a flash.

“Oh, hey,” she murmurs distractedly. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Nah.”

She nods, barely even giving him a second glance, grabbing the lid and placing it on the counter.

The steam threatens to curl higher and higher, but with a quick flip of a switch, the stove’s fan is pulling it into its vents.

There’s something definitely wrong with her – she’ll bake cupcakes for an elementary school bake sale at 2 a.m., but never soup. Who the fuck makes soup in the dead of night?

“I’m not an expert on human food by any means,” he starts, grimacing at the way the scent wafts towards him when she swirls the wooden spoon through the broth. “But why the hell are you making soup when it’s hot as fuck outside?”

She shrugs, dipping the spoon flat against the surface of the hot broth, filling it to the brim. “I was hungry.”

She brings it to her mouth, lips pursed, and blows on it, thin tendrils of steam floating towards him.

He’s still trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with her when she sips it, a small tired smile blooming across her features.

The soft breathy hum that buzzes from her throat is low enough for both of them to hear, nearly matching the pitch of the whirring fan.

He doesn’t wanna press his luck with her, considering they're being civil.

It’d been a week since they were ambushed and she came face to face with her attempted kidnapper.

Things between Mason and Sofía were already… complicated, to say the least.

Different attitudes, different wants, different needs. He’d managed to fail in all three of those categories, disappointing her over and over without really trying to.

There was a certain level of avoidance from the both of them for the days following the ambushing. It’s not that he wanted to get her alone nor he did he care if she was avoiding him, but this was the first time he’d been alone with her all week, so he wasn’t going to actively try to fuck this up.

“That’s it?” he asked, keeping it simple.

She ignores him, instead flitting around the kitchen to grab a bowl and a spoon.

Well, she’d be amicable if she kept quiet – she wasn’t wrong with that one.

He watches as she fishes out sliced vegetables, an ear of corn, and chicken, then fills the bowl to the brim with broth.

Setting it on the table, she grabs a stained tortilla warmer from the microwave and scoots up to her bowl, digging in with one hand, a tortilla rolled in the other.

She’s still sweating under the heat, her chest glistening, the seams of her tattered tank damp underneath her armpits.

He sinks into the chair across from her, arms crossed. 

“You gonna keep ignoring me?”

“Maybe,” she says from behind her hand (and around a mouthful of veggies).

“Tell me to leave, then, and I’ll go. Just say the word, sweetheart.”

He knows she won’t.

She lifts her eyes from the bowl to meet his own lazy gaze. Without saying another word, she dunks her rolled tortilla in the broth and takes a bite.

“That’s what I thought. You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“You’re not that invested in my life outside of work, are you?” She challenges, mashing the back of her spoon against a vegetable until it’s smooth, scooping it up with a little broth and popping it into her mouth.

He shrugs. “I just know you’re lying, that’s all.”

“You lie all the time,” she counters immediately, pointing the tip of the spoon at him.

“When?” He knows she’s right, but she hasn’t brought it up since she stormed away from him outside of the warehouse, drenched and shivering.

“You lied at the bakery.”

Bingo.

He leans forward till his elbows are on the table, resting his chin on the back of his interlaced fingers.

“So that’s what you’re upset about.”

He’s a foot away from her, the temptation of closing the gap between them nearly tugging his shoulders forward.

Her face contorts into a grimace, bordering on disgust. “That’s not at the forefront of my mind, no.”

She swirls her spoon around the bowl, eyes following the movements of her wrist.

“I hate the summer. I always have.”

He stifles a wince as he leans back until his bare back presses against the cool plastic.

“Bad things always happen to me in the summer, you know? Dad died during the summer. Mom forgot to pick me up at science camp for a full twenty-four hours when I was 9, and I had to spend a whole day alone with no friends after everyone had gone home. That’s also the same summer she took her first month-long assignment.

“The next summer, they extended it from a month to a full summer. I broke my wrist on my neighbor’s trampoline, and she didn’t even visit me until my cast was getting sawed off.

“Bobby dumped me for the first time during the summer before he studied abroad so he could sleep with whoever he wanted.”

She shakes her head, dropping the spoon and tortilla.

“Sorry, I, uh, I’m just happier in the fall and winter,” she smiles apologetically.

“And that’s why you’re makin’ soup at 2 a.m.?” He asks, eyeing her warily.

“Yeah, kinda. It sounds stupid when you put it like that, really,” she giggles, scooting the bowl forward so she can rest her elbows there too, her chin in her hands.

A sigh escapes her, low and grim. “This dish is really special to me.”

He waits for her to continue, but she just sinks her teeth into her bottom lip instead, chewing nervously at the skin there.

He kicks his toe against her slipper clad foot, a gentle nudge to get her to speak.

He’s gotten pretty good at reassuring her without words, he thinks. Better than when they first met, that’s for damn sure.

“My favorite picture of my dad and I is one where I’m sitting at my high chair and I barely have two teeth in my mouth and my dad is feeding me mashed zucchini and yucca root. He’s laughing and smiling like he wouldn’t rather be doing anything else in the entire world than eating soup with his daughter.”

Mason stiffens at the mention of her father, and even worse so, feels remorse start to trickle into his bones.

It’s stupid to think he could’ve done anything. He pushes those thoughts to the side, recognizing the remaining scrappy morsels of humanity in him clawing its way to the surface. Impulse has always been the most human part of him – maybe she’s changing that.

He doesn’t really know who he was before this, but what he does know is any inkling of humanity he has surfaces when he’s with her.

Yeah, he can’t feel what it’s like to lose a parent, but watching Sofía tear up over bittersweet memories was enough on its own.

“Your dad cooked?”

“Yeah, from what I can remember, yeah. All of our old cookbooks are in his and my abuela’s handwriting.”

She looks like she wanted to say something more, so he leans back, arms across his chest, waiting.

“When I was in high school, I tried making it on my own and it was so shitty. I wanted to surprise Rebecca, because I knew she was getting back from a stressful work trip, and I couldn’t do it like he did. She didn’t even notice that I’d tried,” she sighs, picking up her spoon again to sip the broth.

She hums again, chews, swallows.

“I don’t know why I was so naive back then, you know? I thought I could chop a couple veggies and toss them into seasoned water and it’d turn out just like Dad made it.

“In reality, I didn’t even know what it tasted like. My mom described the taste to me once before, but she never cooked, so I just went off of what she told me. I romanticized the whole thing right down to making up the flavor in my own head.”

“That’s probably why I made the soup tonight. I miss when I was happy, but even then, what the fuck did that even look like to me? I’m just telling myself I was happy because I saw photos of me being happy, but I can’t recall that feeling by memory at all.”

She darts a hand under her eyes to rub it away before he notices, but he can see her eyes glistening.

“How am I homesick for a life that was never really great to begin with, you know?”

He leans forward, brows furrowed. “It doesn’t matter if you can’t remember. Fuck those old memories. Make new ones.”

He’s speaking from the heart now, compelled to say something before his mind can stop him.

Chuckling with a quick sniffle, she gets up to grab a drink from the fridge. “I know you mean well, but it’s hard when you’ve got an active bounty on your head.”

“Things will get better.” He’s not a beacon of positivity in the slightest, but she’s too good to be feeling this bad, so he has to say something.

“Things can get better.”

“What?”

“It’s not guaranteed. Not for me, at least. Probability’s never worked out in my favor,” she smiles weakly, unscrewing the cap to the water and sipping it politely.

“You’ve got a team making sure things will get better, sweetheart. No matter what.”

“You’re all here by force, though. After you leave, I’m still gonna be stuck here, and –”

She waves her free hand, the other one gripping the damp water bottle.

“I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I’ll be less of a mess in the morning.”

“Not all of us,” he says, delayed, but hoping she gets it.

“Not all of us what?”

“Are here by force.”

She grips the bottle harder, the plastic crackling. She knows what he means now.

“That’s… uh, good to know,” she murmurs, a smile tugging at her features. “Thanks.”

“Didn’t do anything to warrant a thanks.”

She rolls her eyes, sitting back down at the table. “You’re gonna have to get used to my manners, Mason.”

“Never,” he smirks, leaning over the table, over the soup, running his thumb over her bottom lip before standing.

“You don’t like it because you don’t have any.”

He snorts, a hearty laugh ripping out of his vocal cords and echoing off the tile flooring. “Damn right.”

She smiles, too, this time though with her whole body. It’s dim in the kitchen, but she’s shining nonetheless.

The smell’s grown on him a little bit. The shit honestly reeks, but he doesn’t mind it.

He follows her when she makes her way to the cabinets underneath the countertops, retrieving a big glass bowl.

When she bends down, he tentatively steps behind her, leaving a hair’s width space between them. He’s hesitating to touch her, even as she glances back at him reassuringly and closes the gap between his stomach and her back.

The hum that leaves her this time as he hooks a lazy arm around her waist sounds just like the one she let out when she tasted the soup.

She gently guides his hands to grip the edges of the bowl while she pulls the pot closer.

“So what’s this shit called?” He asks, crinkling his nose as she ladles it in, grimacing when some splashes his hand.

He knows he’s there for something, but he can’t quite remember what for when she licks the stray drops from his thumb.

“Caldo de pollo,” she smiles, snapping the plastic top until it’s airtight, guiding him to the fridge.

He knows “pollo” is Spanish from the times Felix watched kids shows to pick up on English. (He could never quite shake the looping sound byte of Felix’s southern drawl saying “poy-yo” when he discovered Dora the Explorer.)

“You gotta make it for Nate sometime,” he suggests, wrapping his other arm around her waist when she closes the fridge door.

She turns in his grasp, splaying her hands on his bare chest, dragging her thumbs over the tuft of hair in the middle of it.

“Thank you, really,” she whispers, eyes trained on her moving hands. “I mean it.”

He’s shit at accepting thanks with words, so instead he kisses her. He fights the urge to deepen it, to open his mouth to taste her.

She’s not ready to let him in like that just yet. He thinks it’s enough that she’s letting him touch her at least.

The lingering taste of chicken is disgusting, but he’s enduring it, because Sofía’s humming like he’s the best thing she’s tasted in years.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #twc mason #twc detective #wayhavensummer #mason x sofía #detective sofía olmos #my fic

[jocia92]

(Google translated)

Dan Stevens, who grew up in Wales and south-east England, spent his summer holidays at the National Youth Theater at the age of 15, and he was drawn to the stage while studying English in Cambridge. Since his big breakthrough as Matthew Crawley in the hit series “Downton Abbey”, he has also repeatedly appeared in films such as “Inside Wikileaks - The Fifth Force”, “At Night in the Museum: The Secret Tomb” or “Beauty and the Beast” . Most recently, Stevens played the Russian Schnösel singer Lemtov in the Oscar-nominated comedy “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” from Netflix. At the beginning of June, the German film “Ich bin dein Mensch” by Maria Schrader celebrated at the Summer Berlinale Premiere, which starts on 1.7. comes to German cinemas regularly. Stevens plays the role of a love robot in it. Unlike on the screen, however, the 38-year-old prefers to speak English in the zoom-conducted interview. He chose a brick wall with a lion motif as the digital background. No allusion to the song “Lion of Love” from “Eurovision Song Contest”, but a photo of the famous Ishtar Gate in Berlin’s Pergamon Museum, where “I am your human” was filmed last summer.

Mr. Stevens, in your new film “I am your human” you play a humanoid robot that is entirely geared towards fulfilling the romantic needs of a skeptical scientist. You yourself recently described the film as “delightfully German”. How did you mean that?

I wanted to say that here pretty big questions - such as what actually makes a person or how much perfection love can take - are negotiated in a very light-footed, elegant and sometimes humorous way. In my experience that is a very German quality. At least I have often seen with many of my German colleagues and friends that they are very good at not discussing difficult issues exclusively deadly serious and melancholy.

Where does your personal connection to Germany and the German language come from?

My parents had friends who lived in Bielefeld and we used to visit them in North Rhine-Westphalia during the school holidays. Traveled from England by car! That’s how I learned a little German as a child, and later I learned it as a subject at school. I even did a short internship there through our friends in Bielefeld. I really love the language. Funnily enough, I was later able to use my knowledge of German professionally, because my first film was “Hilde”, in which I was next to Heike Makatsch played the British actor and director David Cameron, who was married to Hildegard Knef. After that, I always hoped that there might be another chance to speak German in front of the camera, because playing in a foreign language is an exciting challenge. When the chance arose to shoot “I am your person”, I could hardly believe my luck.

Did you know the director Maria Schrader who gave you this chance?

Funnily enough, when the script for the film landed on my table, I had just watched the Netflix series “Unorthodox”, which she directed. I had also watched a few episodes of “Deutschland 89”. In general, I knew that she was a great German actress, not least because friends who knew their way around the German theater scene often raved about her. Working with her was a joy now. Her understanding of actors is quite instinctive and brilliant. I have seldom seen someone who can help an actor who is having difficulties with a scene with such simple means.

The fact that you had already seen “Unorthodox” shows, of course, how quickly “I am your person” must have been implemented in the past year …

Oh yes, that was really quick. In March I was still in New York and was about to premiere a new play on Broadway. But then the pandemic came, everything was canceled and I flew back to my family in Los Angeles. A few weeks later, Maria and I met each other via Zoom - and shortly afterwards I was sitting outside in a café in the Berlin June sun for the first time in months to discuss the upcoming shoot with her. That was pretty surreal because I hadn’t actually left the house since March.

Is it correct that you oriented yourself to Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart to portray the romantically programmed robot Tom?

In any case, these were role models that Maria and I spoke about. When you think of the game between the two of them, you always see an enormous clarity and directness. Cary Grant, for example, was always quite funny, especially in his romantic roles, but also flawless in an almost artificial way from today’s perspective. I found that very suitable for a robot. Apart from the fact that the ideas that Tom and his algorithm have of romance and love are certainly also shaped by the classic romantic comedies from Hollywood. Oh, the woman is sad, so I’ll bring her flowers! Such automatisms from the stories from back then were very appropriate for Tom now.

Keyword role models: Who shaped you in your career as an actor?

There were of course many. Jimmy Stewart was certainly something of a role model. My mom and I watched a lot of his films when I was little and I was always impressed by the kind of sweet tragedy that went into all of his roles. But maybe Robin Williams’ work influenced me even more. I always found the incredible variety of his films remarkable. He could make his audience laugh hysterically like no other, but also move them to tears in other roles. I always wanted to emulate this range.

In fact, the range of your roles is enormous and ranges from the Disney blockbuster “Beauty and the Beast” to a comic adaptation in series format such as “Legion” to bulky independent films such as “Her Smell” or the horror thriller “The Rental “, Which we just released on DVD. Is there a method behind this diversity?

Not in principle. I like variety, but I’m not just looking for roles that are as different as possible from one another. Rather, there are always similar factors that I use to select my projects. Sometimes there is a certain director that I really want to work with. Or the role itself is irresistible because it presents me with acting challenges. And sometimes a script is just fantastically written and I am interested in the topics it is about. With “I am your person” it was definitely the latter, especially since the timing was just right. In 2020 there were so many societal questions that ultimately touched the core of human existence. Such a script, which deals with something very similar in a light-footed way, was just fitting.

A few years ago you said in a questionnaire from the British Guardians that your greatest weakness was not being able to make up your mind. So every time you are offered a role, do you ponder whether you should accept?

No, no, when a script appeals to me, it actually does it very quickly. It’s such a gut feeling. If I’m unsure and skeptical, that’s a good indicator that this is not the right thing for me. That with the difficulty in making decisions related rather to something else. For example, it takes me forever to order in a restaurant because I can never decide what on the menu appeals to me the most.

You became famous with the role of Matthew Crawley in the series "Downton Abbey”. Did you immediately suspect at the time that something big was going on?

At first we were all pretty clueless. There are really many British history series, and we were one of them. When the first season aired in the US and was a huge success there, it was pretty unexpected. I never expected the impact the series would have on my career.

Barely ten years later, are you still being asked about the role?

Oh yes, regularly. Probably nothing will change about that either. I got out after three seasons!

In the meantime, however, the flamboyant Russian singer Alexander Lemtov from “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” should also be a character with whom you will be immediately associated, right?

Right, it has been mentioned more and more recently when people recognize me on the street. This charming, silly film obviously had a nerve with the audience last year in the middle of the corona pandemic. Especially since the real Eurovision Song Contest had been canceled.

The film was the number one topic of conversation on the Internet for a while - and Lemtov GIFs and memes were everywhere. Did you follow that?

It was really hard to avoid it. I wasn’t looking specifically for what people were posting. But of course my friends passed a lot on to me, and there were already some very funny Lemtov things. But he’s also a figure made for GIFs.

Another question every British actor under 40 has to put up with these days: Would you like to become the next James Bond?

Oh, of course, everyone gets to hear this question again and again who meets certain criteria. But it is completely hypothetical. Although a few years ago I read in an audio book by Ian Fleming’s “Casino Royale”.

You mentioned earlier that you and your family have lived in the United States for a long time. How big is your homesickness?

I actually feel very comfortable in Los Angeles. But every now and then I miss the sidewalk culture of European cities. People on foot, street cafes, things like that. Last year the longing for it was particularly great, although it was of course clear to me that there was a state of emergency in Europe too. In any case, I found myself reading books that were set in Europe and made me homesick. Which is why the unexpected trip to Berlin was really a boon.

You are also an avid cricketer. That’s certainly difficult in Los Angeles, isn’t it?

There are quite a few cricket clubs here. The only problem is that the few people who do the sport here are so good at it that I have problems keeping up. That’s why I always lose sight of the matter here a little. Even as a pure TV viewer, it is not easy to stay on the ball, because of course there is no cricket broadcast here at prime time. But as soon as I’m home in England in the summer, I really want to play again!

#ich bin dein mensch #i'm your man #dan stevens #maria schrader #faz.net #interview #long post

[manifi-art]

I could never be ready for this... | Steven Universe Future oneshot

This is just my personal take on things. Steven left 2 months after getting help, starting therapy, and then says he may never be back is a bit. While I support the theory of him wanting to connect to his human side and friends, experience his home, change - I don’t think his first year went smoothly as he had hoped. 

 Steven sat in his backseat, counting the times the phone rang until the wonderful voice of his girlfriend was heard. “C-Connie!” His voice was scratchy, hoarse. Knowing how well she read him, she’d know something was wrong, but decided to play it off. “How are classes going?” 

“Steven, hey! They’re going amazing. I had my first sociology class and my professor is the sweetest woman ever. And guess what, one of the teacher assistants is a gem! A Turquoise- they’re going to give their first lecture soon after we learn about human sociology.” As Connie went on, Steven just sighed, admiring her voice and enjoying peace from his swirling mind. Her voice a tad static from the area he was parked in. “I’m sure you have better views than me. Sorry for not calling as often, but I have so much more free time to talk with you!” 

“That’s great! That’d be... nice... to talk with you more. Don’t worry about it- you’re busy and hey, you have study hard to be the governor of Delmarva!” He laughed lightly with her, but the thoughts were lingering. He felt the warm buzz on the skin of his palm as it turned pink. “Hey, uh- Can I talk to you about something?” 

“Of course, Steven-” He heard the rustle of paper hit the wooden desk in her dorm, but then heard the squeak of the bed and her sigh as she laid down. “I was going to ask, but I was so excited to tell you about my week. Is everything going okay? Take your time, I’ll be here.” 

Bless Connie, because he did stutter it out a few times, but his mind fought it. She could have hung up after a few minutes, but no, she hung out with him on the phone until he got the confidence to speak up about what was bugging him. It was easier talking to his therapist about it, but to someone who knew him? He curled in on the thought. He finally took a breath and spoke. 

“I... I don’t think I can do this. I-I mean I want to do this, I love being with Lars and the off colors, I met up with Sadie and Shep- they let me stay with them for a few days and it was great! I got to see Jenny- she introduced me to her friends and they’re amazing. I-I just... Things feel different. They’re off. I’m having fun, but part of me isn’t. I’ve called the gems, dad- Becca helps so much, she’s always there to talk- but... I don’t know. Did I make the right choice?” There was a long pause, worrying Steven if Connie was disappointed in him for pick it. His hand blew up a bit in size. 

“Steven, no- You made the right choice, but what you’re going through- It’s okay! We support what you want to do and if it’s to travel the country, that’s fine, but if you’re not feeling good about it or you feel off- that’s okay, too. Beach City is always there for you to come back to.” Connie’s reassuring words soothed the inflammation. “Have you talked to the gems and your dad about it?” 

“N-No... I feel like I’ll disappoint them. I made it a huge thing about leaving Beach City, how I may never come back, gave them all gifts to remember me by- I’ve only been gone eight weeks!” He felt tears burn his eyes, squeezing them shut. “I don’t want dad having to move out of his new room- he loves it so much-” 

“Steven! Steven, it’s okay. You won’t disappoint them, believe me. You’re fine feeling like this, you’re homesick and maybe it was too soon after starting therapy. And that is completely fine. If you need to go home, do it for yourself and sanity, please- I don’t want you to overdo it. No one does. You can still travel, but you need more time to heal. That’s what we all want the most for you. If healing means going out into the world for a few weeks, then come back to Beach City for a few weeks, that is fine. We will support you and love you through every step.” 

She sat up on her dorm bed, crossing her legs. Eyes moved up her cheaply hung cork board that held pictures of her life on Beach City. Her family photo before leaving her home for her college state. Her dad coming for a surprise visit only after a week of settling in because he couldn’t stand being away from his little girl. Her and Steven on their first date, them much younger on his birthday. Lar’s shop opening up on the board walk. Hers and Pearl’s first class together teaching swordfighting. Lion hogging the entire picture because he booped the camera was her favorite. 

“...S-So if I come back to Beach City, it’s okay?” Steven eventually muttered through midst of crying. She knew his voice well enough and any little change to it. 

“Everyone will be just fine with you coming home. I’ll visit this weekend.” 

★ ★ ★

He had been driving for two days straight. He had talked to his dad, the gems, his therapist- everyone was supportive of his need to come back. He was always allowed to come home. Even Priyanka and Douglas called to ask if he was doing alright from time to time. 

He reached Delmarva at two in the morning, but he knew he wouldn’t make it to Beach City until a little after four. He was fading fast and the urge to stop and sleep came over him. He pushed on for another hour, before he approached the familiar outer town from his home. There was a small chance...

Turning down the familiar road that had Connie’s house, he found Priyanka pulling in from one of her long shifts at the hospital. She noticed his car immediately, signaling him to park by the mailbox. Rushing to greet him, he opened the car door and was met with a warm hug. She was strict with both him and Connie, but was a loving mother. Someone he saw as a mother figure as the years went on knowing the Maheswaran family. He’d probably never admit it. 

But the hug felt nice. He realized he’d been lacking contact of anyone for awhile. Traveling was thrilling, soul-searching, and free. Getting to experience life and new things, make new friends. He’s made a few of them through Jenny and Sadie. They all have a Beecord chat together where they share stupid memes and laugh on voice-chat with him. It’s been a week and a half - he needs this. He wrapped his arms around Priyanka, squeezing her, which she gladly gave a gentle squeeze back. 

Then the tears started. She got him inside, heated up some leftovers from the fridge she was going to have and chatted for another hour. Then insisted he showered and took the guest room. 

He wasn’t against it at all. Especially after Connie left her shampoo by accident and it was his favorite scent ever, which the bottle read “Perfect Peony”. 

★ ★ ★

Priyanka was off the next day, so ensured he had a nice meal before heading out. She said she would check on him later to make sure everything was fine and he was settled. 

Arriving to town, it was surreal. It felt the same- it was, but different. He felt a tad out of place not being there for two months. He drove through the main street to the beach, the small sand dunes making the car bounce. The sight of Obsidian’s hand made his heart pound, speeding up a bit. He saw the Mr. Universe van - there was a little garage set up for Greg now. Bismuth built it a month in for him after helping out with classes. 

His hands shook, parking the car and the gems running off the porch to greet him. Amethyst first, pouncing on him - messing his hair up. Pearl causing him to take a few steps back, embracing him tightly. Garnet coming up behind him to prevent him from falling back but also embrace him. His vision had blurred completely, a knot forming in his throat. “G-Guys...” 

“Oh Steven, we’re so glad you chose to come home. We’re not disappointed in you at all! We have your room ready and everything!” Pearl exclaimed, wiping her own and Steven’s tears away. 

“Yeah, dude- It’s okay. We’re happy to have you as long as you need to be here. You can tell us all your adventures!” Amethyst nudged his arm happily. 

“And we’re here for you if you need to talk.” Garnet rested her hand on his shoulder, giving a reassuring smile. 

Greg came in to embrace him tightly. “Oh son, we’re never disappointed in you, you hear me? You still need time and that’s okay, buddy. You know what, Beach City will always be your home to come back to anytime you need it. Priyanka called me, I’m glad you stopped at her place. I was worried you were going to overdo it. Dinner is in the oven, let’s get your bags and get you situated in your room for awhile, okay?” He patted Steven’s back, glancing at the car and realizing the gems had grabbed everything from it. He huffed, but was thankful. 

“Thanks, dad... This isn’t weird, is it?” Steven drew his gaze downwards, fiddling with his sleeve. 

“Of course not, bud.” Moving his hand to his shoulder, so Greg could face him. “I want you to be happy. If traveling for a few weeks then coming home and repeating that makes you happy, I’m for it. Have you been keep up on that journal I gave you?” He began to lead Steven to the house. 

“It helps... a lot and I have a word document I share with Becca... I think I’m okay with coming home now. She said it’s normal to want the people who truly know you to be with you- physically or over the phone. She told me I’m a touchy person that needs my support with me and it’s okay.” Steven let out a sigh of relief entering his home, smelling the lasagna in the oven. “She’s proud of me for coming home. I’m proud of myself, I need you guys over the phone, but I needed to be with you guys here... for a little while.” 

Greg kicked off his sandals and patted his back. “I don’t mind if that little while is a week or a year. We love you, schtu-ball.” 

“I love you guys, too.” 

For the first time in two weeks, the fog in his mind lifted. His anxiety lessened and his pink hand went back to his normal hand. He was determined to control his diamond powers eventually, but for now- he was focused on himself and healing. As Lion tackled him to the floor, he was more than happy to do so. 

#Steven Universe #Steven Universe Future #SUF #SU #connie maheswaran #priyanka maheswaran #Connverse #Greg Universe #SU Pearl #su amethyst #SU Garnet #Beach City #my fic #oneshot #fanfic #Steven Universe fanfic #Pearl #Garnet #Amethyst #I support and love Steven's choice but I do think this would happen #as much as he wants to change and get out there and be human

[symmratgiftexchange]

Satya Vaswani Smile

Hey @threepointonefourmakesxai ! I went and made you a fic based off of your request. Thank you so much for participating in this event! I hope you enjoy this and I hope you have a wonderful new year!

You can read your story either under the cut or over on my AO3!

Junkrat fucked up.

He didn’t know when exactly, or even how. But at some point this which for whatever the reason he fucked up things with Symmetra.

She was still working next to him in the labs. But she would hardly look at him! And when she spoke to him she was so clinical and curt. More so than usual. So much that it’d finally dawned on Junkrat that Satya was intentionally trying not to speak with him. That she was mad with him.

And Junkrat had no idea what he did.

Maybe a year ago he wouldn’t have cared. He definitely wouldn’t have worried over apologizing, he wouldn’t even bother with any of that nonsense. He would have just ignored the lady, brush her aside just as quickly as she was ostracizing him, call her another one of those stuffy suits, cause a few pranks to get a rise out of her then just… move on with his life.

But this wasn’t just some lame old suit. This wasn’t a faceless nobody who he’d just go on to forget. This wasn’t even the same woman he’d met when they first joined the team, a woman he assumed would always judge him and never see him as more than a criminal or a coward. This was Satya Vaswani, this was Symmetra. And ‘Metra had come to be one of the most precious people in his life. The only person who shared that title was Roadhog.

So if Symmetra was mad at him than he needed to figure out a way to win back her favor or die trying!

First he tried to figure out what the hell he even did wrong.

He was tempted to just go ask her but whenever he got close to Symmetra she’d either glower at him, or worse yet her face would stay completely neutral and she’d just raise a single eyebrow, as if daring him to take another step closer and see what would happen. And while not always the safest person on the Overwatch team he at least had enough self-preservation to know he ought to avoid Symmetra. At least until he had a plan of fixing whatever he did and apologizing.

So without knowing exactly what he did wrong, Junkrat began formulating a way to make things up to Symmetra. He started off by trying to think of all the sorts of things he knew the woman actually liked. In the time they’d come to know one another and even develop a relationship he’d learned there was a lot more to Satya “Symmetra” Vaswani than met the eye.

For example, everyone who was anyone knew she was an amazing architect but her fascination went much deeper. She adored art, especially in the 3rd dimension in all its forms such as sculpture, CGI and architecture. And it was more than just art appreciation of simply liking art a lot. For Symmetra that 3rd dimension was a special interest of hers. Going as far as to memorize the names of many great artists as a child and study their styles and inspiration. Even to this day if someone brought the subject up Symmetra could talk for hours on end about art. Many times Junkrat had gotten so caught he almost fooled himself into liking art too just because of how much passion Satya had for the stuff! And it was that dedication and good eye in Junkrat’s opinion that had helped Symmetra become an even greater architect. She didn’t just see boring towers waiting to be built in over-crowded cities. She saw art and beauty. She wanted to inspire people the way old artists had inspired her.

Also despite being such a regal, poised woman, Symmetra loved to stim. Junkrat had seen her fiddle with a few physical things before, a pen, an object she’d just built, but she stimmed the most with her hard light. It reminded Junkrat of a man he’d known back in Junkertown who would wind up old strings in his hand into all different kinds of shapes. Symmetra would do so with her blue lights, turning them this way and that until they created these different crystals or towers of interwoven triangles. Whenever she had down time, or felt nervous, or found herself trying to focus intently on a project, like clockwork her mechanical hand would begin glowing and she’d set off forming light structures. And while most of the time Symmetra’s stim shapes were just nonsense pattern’s that built nothing, sometimes Junkrat caught her making little intricate crystals or flowers.

She also loved tea, whenever the two of them went out to a café it was a given that while Junkrat got his boba, Symmetra would get her own cup of tea. Though unlike his own iced, half sweet brew, Symmetra preferred a cup of warm freshly-brewed stuff without any sort of milk or sugar. And while she usually got similar things, a few times when she claimed to want to “treat herself” she would order these special brews that came in a glass pot where you could watch as a flower slowly bloomed in the tea or little pearls of dry leaves would unfurl in a nice little showy display.

She also had a soft spot for kids. So worst comes to worst, Junkrat could bring a kid like Efi along with him to make sure Symmetra didn’t do anything rash in front of the children. She always wanted to make a good impression on kids, always acting polite and listening to what they had to say.

And while she wasn’t very good at caring for plants she still appreciated how they looked and their ability “to seem so simple but truly be so complicated on the cellular level” as she put it.

Oh, and even though it could make her homesick at times she still adored Bollywood. The music, the outfits and costumes, the dancing, the movies, all of it!

So at least Junkrat had that, now all he needed to do was figure out what pieces he could use to make things up to Symmetra.

Most of the things he could recall didn’t seem to fit together in any perfect pictures. However Junkrat was nothing if not an inventor. And it was his specialty to take small things that seemed like nothing to others and turn them into something they couldn’t ignore… usually bombs. But he knew that he could figure out how all these small pieces of Symmetra’s interests could fit together into something so great she would have no choice but to stop being mad at him!

Two days later he finally got something and was ready to show it to Symmetra, along with what he hoped would make a good apology.

Symmetra had been in the middle of creating a new model when Junkrat slid a cardboard box in front of her, disrupting her hard light.

“What is this Junkrat?” She asked in a humorless dry tone.

Trying not to lose his cool, Junkrat cleared his throat. “Uh, why don’t you open it up and find out?”

Sighing through her nose, Symmetra dispersed the light from her gauntlet and began unwrapping Junkrat’s gift. He’d done a quick sloppy job taping the box closed, Junkrat expected her to at least comment on the crummy job he did wrapping. But she didn’t say anything. She just continued to silently unwrap the box until she could finally pull the tabs apart and see what Junkrat had given her.

Inside was what could probably be best described as an oversized desk ornament. A shelf if you were feeling generous. Held together by a metal frame a few pedestals branched out from a base. Each branch seemed to be molded to look like shining towers in Utopaea, though rather than the shining silver and gold of the city these were made from a more rustic metal that had been painted orange and blue. And within each “tower” were different hollowed out spaces. Some of which were already taken up by packages of floral teas or little succulent plants. And scattered all about the little towers were photos and cut pictures. Some Junkrat had found of different cities Vishkar had constructed like Utopaea or Oasis, others that seemed to just be the more natural landscapes of India, but mostly there was pictures taken of their base in Gibraltar, and of all the people the pair now considered friends.

“Tah-dah!” Junkrat sang, making jazz hands. “A little something to remind ya of home!”

Symmetra was trying to keep their face neutral. But Junkrat had seen the look of surprise on her face as she’d taken the little city out of its box, and how that spark of joy had yet to leave her eyes as she ran her hand along the lovingly crafted towers, modeled after her own work.

“This is indeed a fine show of craftsmanship.” Symmetra said in a bored tone, not even her voice reflected that happiness Junkrat had seen in her eyes. But as she turned her head to Junkrat, she tried to remain serious. “What on earth prompted you to build such a thing?”

“Oh you know, I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been… eh, off these past few days. And I thought, I ought to make’ya something nice and… cheer you up?”

Symmretra raised an eyebrow, though she had yet to let go of the little city. “You spent all this time making this thing just to cheer me up?” She asked, repeating his own words.

“Also, I uh, I wanted to apologize.” Junkrat said nervously, hand subconsciously going to rub at the back of his head. He could hardly look at her and waited for the other shoe to drop.

“So yeah, I’m real sorry ‘Metra. About all… that?”

Whatever small look of happiness on Symmetra’s face seemed to instantly die as she looked at him directly. For a moment Junkrat was horrified that she was going to smash Junkrat’s gift on the ground but instead she set it down gently in the center of her workbench. Her constant, emotionless gaze however did little to make Junkrat feel any better.

“Tell me Junkrat, do you know why you’re sorry?”

And here it was. The moment Junkrat had been trying to avoid. He honestly had no idea what’d he’d done to piss her off. His best bet was he broke something on accident, but he couldn’t recall smashing anything recently. Plus everything in Symmetra’s side of the workshop seemed to be in good condition. His only other guess was that maybe she thought he smelled or something, but he’d been staying on top of his hygiene more recently. Besides that he had nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Uhhhhhhh-”

All at once that calm exterior was dropped and Satya glowered at Jamison with a fire normally only left to the battlefield. “You completely humiliated me in front of my Vishkar associates!”

“Oh, that’s what that was? When the hell’d I do that?”

“Last Tuesday. I was in the middle of a call with my associates to update them on my work. And I’d explicitly asked that everyone stay out of the workshop while I made my call. And not only did you walk through! But you were completely shirtless and scratching yourself!”

Everything finally fell into place, Junkrat wanted to say something more thought-out but all that came out was “Ohhhhhhhhhh…”

“I can’t believe you!” Symmetra continued, massaging her temples. “After you left I was reprimanded for your lack of dress code, or professionalism of any sort! It was so humiliating!”

“Hey at least you weren’t the one runnin’around shirtless!” Junkrat tried to joke, the only reaction he got from Symmetra was another glare. Though she was already starting to lose that fire from moments before. “And Overwatch don’t even have a dress code. No one’s ever got on me case for not wearing shirts before.”

“I know, and there is no policies here on how to dress.” Symmetra agreed. “It’s just, I feel like as I’ve been here I’ve grown more lack with my own self-discipline… And my meeting was another harsh reminder that I still have responsibilities. A vision to uphold”

Junkrat frowned. “That sounds like Vishkar talk.”

“Well, I do owe them my entire career.” Symmetra argued. “My education… The opportunities they gave me. My whole life even.”

“Nah.”                                                                  

“No?”

“I don’t agree with that.” Junkrat said. “I think no matter how you would’a ended up right here doing what you’re doing. Whether you got roped up with a fancy company or not.”

“But without Vishkar’s training I wouldn’t know how to manipulate hardlight.” Symmetra said.

“No, I mean bigger than that.” Junkrat continued. Reaching over to grab the little city he’d built her. “No matter how, you’d find a way to do what you do. Sure you can get trained or whatever but you got something bigger than all that. You got a mind. You got ideas and dreams. And you do what you do to make things happen. And you wanna help people. Like really help people.”

Symmetra said nothing, watching as Junkrat placed the city back onto her workbench, sliding it closer so she could see some of the pictures of their Overwatch team.

“So I’m sorry I made an ass of myself in front of those suites. But you know what? I don’t care about any of those blokes! And I don’t think you should either. Cause no matter what you’re already lightyears ahead of those bastards, no matter how they try to drag you down and make you feel bad!”

“You really think so?” Satya asked.

“Sure!” Jamison said, suddenly realize he’d gotten so loud as he talked that he was practically shouting.

But then, for the first time in days, Jamison saw Satya smile, and he knew everything he’d said and done had been worth it.

“Thank you Jamison…”

“Any time darl!”

#symmrat #junkmetra #threepointonefourmakesxai #symmratgiftexchange #symmratgiftexchnage2018 #symmrat gift exchange

[is-this-a-skam-account]

Shelter Chapter 2 by Shawnie1718 ao3

The next week, Lucas’s heat hits him like a truck. He had planned for it, since he had stopped taking his suppressants in order to trigger the heat. However, when he woke up, he was covered in sweat and slick and was overtaken by the worst headache in the world. Lucas quickly ran to the bathroom to take some Motrin for the cramps. He downed the pills two at a time and glanced in the mirror.

Lucas groaned and rubbed at his under eye bags. He looked like crap, which usually happens during his heats. He isn’t one of those lucky Omegas that tend to look like literal angels whenever they go into heat. However, Mika has said that Lucas smells like an absolute dream, which means his roommate has to wear a clothespin on his nose to avoid accidentally breathing in Lucas’s scent and triggering any of his Alpha instincts of domination to take over.

Lucas trudges back to his bed. He strips off his shirt and pants as he feels the fire inside him start to burn. Great, the best part. He whines involuntarily as he climbs back in bed, pulling his pillow close to him, his inner Omega crying out for some type of skin-to-skin contact. He just wants someone to roam their hands down his back and cuddle him until he falls asleep.

Lucas groans into his blanket. He hates being an Omega.

When he wakes up later in the afternoon, he absolutely reeks. He definitely smells like an Omega in heat. He reaches for his phone, the bright screen not helping his headache at all.

@srodulv sent you a message!

Lucas felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest. Eliott must have sent him something while he was asleep. Lucas eagerly opened up the message.

@srodulv: two weeks and one day!

Lucas smiled, the idiot was counting down the days until their planned meet-up. Good thing Lucas had his heat now, rather than having to move it around the meet up with Eliott.

@lucallament: wow what a romantic.

@srodulv: well, I have to be the romantic for both of us. All you like to do is make fun of me!

@lucallament: ❤️

@lucallament: is that better?

@srodulv: much 💕

Lucas purred. He purred. Has he ever purred before? Maybe once when he was ten.

As they continued texting Lucas’s inner Omega was sprinting around inside him. Begging Lucas to ask Eliott to come to his apartment. To hug him. To take care of him. Of course, Lucas did none of the above. He managed to suppress the urges and down another Motrin.

@srodulv: oh! I got another house plant by the way!

@lucallament: I wonder how long it’s going to take you to kill this one.

@srodulv: D:

@srodulv: do you wanna see it?

@lucallament: sure! Send a photo?

@srodulv: I was thinking more of a video.

@lucallament: that works too

@srodulv: well, more of like a video chat.

Lucas froze. How could he FaceTime Eliott right now? In the middle of his heat? Well, he is still in phase one. The phase where he just wants to nap 24/7, so his hormones haven’t completely taken over. Also, what would happen if he rejected? He didn’t want to make Eliott feel bad...

@lucallament: okay, give me one sec.

Lucas dashed around his room, placing anything away that may give Eliott a clue as to Lucas’s situation at the moment. He forced all his dirty clothes into his hamper, and nesting blankets folded neatly at the end of his bed. His inner Omega growled at the fact that he would have to rebuild the nest later, but it will have to suffice. Lucas quickly slipped on a clean sweatshirt before clicking the call button. His heart was pumping in his ears, making it seem as if his whole head was shaking.

Suddenly, Eliott’s face appeared on Lucas’s laptop and Lucas became hyper aware how much he, himself, looked like crap. And how goddamned photoshopped Eliott looks.

“Salut!” Eliott greeted.

Lucas smiled, “salut.”

Shit, this boy really is gorgeous. Lucas thought as Eliott’s image suddenly started moving. He had gotten up from some type of sitting arrangement. A couch? And walked into another room, flicking on a bright light.

“You look...cute?” Eliott questioned and breathed a laugh.

Lucas rolled his eyes, “if I look so bad I may as well just go.” Lucas said and threatened to close his laptop screen.

“No! No!” Eliott said frantically, “I just hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

Lucas shrugged, not the best. “I just didn’t get much sleep last night.” And my butt is sticking to my pants and all I want to do is sleep.

“I’m sorry,” Eliott said, and it seemed like he’s genuinely sorry. Lucas swallowed the purr that was making its way up his throat. “Well, I hope my new plant can brighten your day!” Eliott said, his shoulders shrugging happily before flipping the camera around. “Tada!”

Lucas gasped and his smile widened, “oh! Forget-me-nots!”

He could hear Eliott chuckle from behind the camera. “Yeah! They caught my eye when I was at the store today. I was between them and a hydrangea.”

“What made you choose the forget-me-not?”

The camera flipped around and... was that a blush coating Eliott’s cheeks? “Well, it reminded me of someone,” his eyes found sudden interest in anything except the camera.

Holy shit this boy will be the death of him, “they’re really pretty.” Lucas said, trying to make his heart calm down. Doesn’t help that his heat is upon him, making everything that Eliott says, everything that Eliott does, resonate inside him. “Uh, anyways, why did you want to video chat?”

Eliott shrugs again and licks his lips briefly. Lucas feels victimized by the action. “I don’t know...I mean it’s lonely here in Japan,” Eliott laughs, “I guess I wanted a taste of back home. Oh!” Eliott exclaimed, nearly spooking Lucas, “I met a fan on the street and look what they gave me!” When Eliott came back into frame he was wearing a fluffy white bunny hat. And...were the ears flopping? Lucas felt like he was going to implode from cuteness overload.

Lucas bursts into laughter. But after Eliott places the hat back down, Lucas’s eyes soften. He can totally relate to the feeling when you’re far from home. When he goes out on tours, within the first couple weeks he already begins to feel homesick. “Well, if there is anything I can do to help you feel better...”

Eliott moves again, this time through a couple sets of doors and flops down on a...bed? “Would you sing me something?” Even though the bottom half of Eliott’s face is covered by a pillow, Lucas can still see the smile taking over his face and the crinkle of his eyes into half crescents.

Lucas feels anxious, stomach churning, palms sweating. “I...don’t know. My voice isn’t the best right now.”

“Then could you play something on an instrument for me?”

Lucas pauses, “sure. What instrument?”

Eliott shrugs again, “whatever is fine.”

Lucas nods and places his computer off his lap. He reaches for the closest instrument which happens to be his acoustic guitar. When he positions himself in front of the camera again, his heart is racing. He tries to avoid Eliott’s eyes, but it’s so damn hard when he keeps looking at him like that. Lucas strums a couple chords, and neither of them say a word to each other. It’s a perfect silence.

Lucas decides to play his rendition of City of Stars he had written for the guitar when the movie first came out. He was going to post it as a video, but decided against it. Once he finished he was finally able to look back up and meet the searing gaze that had watched him with the utmost interest throughout the entire song.

“That was...” Eliott began, but let his sentence trail off into an amused breath-y laugh.

Lucas shrugged, licking his lips as he put his guitar back. “It was okay. I haven’t practiced the piece in a while.”

“That was much better than okay! That was like, I don’t even know! Putain, Lucas!” Eliott exclaimed and ran a hand through his hair.

There was a silence that passed over them as Lucas looked down at his blanket, taking sudden interest in pulling at the tassels coming off. Finally Lucas asked, “what are you going to name your new flower?”

Eliott took his time to reply. And in that short period Lucas kept thinking how nice it would feel to have Eliott run his hand through his hair and maybe pull on it. Both in a kinky and non-kinky way. Lucas thought about how soft Eliott’s lips looked, and how he had natural bedroom eyes... “...Lucas?”

Oh shit, he had completely zoned out. Maybe the next phase of his heat was coming soon. “Ah, sorry. What did you say?”

Eliott chuckled, “I was saying I don’t really have any ideas. Do you? I mean I already have flowers named after all the seven dwarfs from Snow White, right? So I can’t name it after any of them. I could name it like...”

“Susan.” Lucas said plainly, which made Eliott burst into laughter.

“Susan?!”

Lucas shrugged, a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, it’s my guitars name.”

That made Eliott freeze, “you name your instruments?”

“Don’t make it seem weird! I don’t name my plants!”

Eliott laughed again, and Lucas felt like he was getting high off the sound. “Fair enough. But you know,” Eliott pauses, “I was thinking of a name more along the lines of Lucas.” Eliott’s eyes flick up for a second to capture Lucas’s.

Lucas feels like he can’t breathe, and he tries to joke it off, “awe I’m getting a plant named after me! How sweet.”

Eliott smiles happily. Lucas swears he can practically see his tail wagging.

Lucas takes a quick glance at the time. The next phase of his heat will probably start in an hour or so, so he should end the conversation in about thirty minutes which will give him enough time to rebuild his nest and prepare...other things...

Eliott’s laughter pulls him out of his train of thought, “what?” Lucas asks.

Eliott shrugs, “you’re just so cute when you’re deep in thought.”

That’s something a boyfriend would say! Lucas dismisses the thought as soon as it enters his head. He clears his throat, “so, what about you, pretty boy. Do you have any other hobbies? Besides drawing.” Lucas meant for the “pretty boy” to come out more patronizing than it had.

“Awe you just called me pretty boy!” Eliott exclaimed and Lucas rolls his eyes. “Uh, but to answer you question, not really? I mean-“ there was a sudden ringing coming from Eliott’s phone which made his image freeze and flicker. “Shoot, Lucas, I have to go. Talk again soon?”

“Talk again soon.” Lucas said reassuringly and then, “two weeks and ten hours.”

Eliott smiled and his eyes turned up into little crescents. “Two weeks and nine hours and fifty-seven minutes.”

It was Lucas’s time to smile like an idiot, “just go, Eliott.”

“Bye, Lulu!” Eliott got out quickly before ending the FaceTime.

——

Phase two of Lucas’ heat felt like a tornado. Sometimes his mind couldn’t keep up with his body, and other times his body couldn’t keep up with his mind. He felt detached from himself every time another series of hormones hit him like a wave. Dragging him under, leaving him gasping for breath by the end.

Lucas would never admit it, but the only thing that kept him sane was imagining what Eliott would smell like. What it would feel like if Eliott’s nimble fingers grazed his scent gland. How it would feel if Eliott were to massage it until Lucas was puddy in his hands. Lucas wondered what it would be like to watch Eliott’s pupil expand until the very edges of his iris if he happened to breathe in Lucas’s heat scent. Lucas wondered if he would feel frozen in place, if he would be scared or perhaps excited. He imagined Eliott would have control of his Alpha instincts on a regular basis, but Lucas imagined Eliott perhaps letting go of the control in front of him, letting himself succumb to his dominating instincts. And Lucas imagined the after hours, after the heat between them died down. How it would feel to be spooned from behind, Eliott’s nose resting in the crook between Lucas’s neck and shoulder, mere centimeters away from his scent gland. His hands would pull Lucas close until all air between them vanished, as if trying to mold them permanently together.

#skam france

[ink-nguyen]

Writing Ask Games

Tagged by @papersky-pencilstars thank you!

I’m using my current WIP Stars in the Dark

1. Describe the plot in one sentence.

Hemlock is hired to kill a prince but doesn’t anticipate the bodyguard being competent, while Fox walks a fine line between creatively interpreting his orders and outright treason - emotions ensue. 

2. Pick one sight, smell, sound, feel, and taste to describe the aesthetic of your novel.

Brilliant jewel tones painting scalloped arches in sandstone and marble

“cinnamon and anise and paprika and tomatoes mellowing in rich coconut milk”

a folk song and lullaby being sung in chorus as the hymn of a mischievous goddess-fox

the shock and pain of falling onto a very hard surface

chilled pomegranate and desert pear mead on the first day of spring

3. Which 3+ songs would make up a playlist for the novel?

Yellow Flicker Beat - Lorde

Collide - James Bay

Did You Hear the Rain? - George Ezra

4. What’s the time period and location in which the novel takes place.

:))) Time period is sort of nebulous? It’s sort of medieval, and but things like pin-and-tumbler locks exist. As for the location, it’s split between Mahjuren and Kinan. Mahjuren is heavily influenced by Mughal India, Persia, and North Africa, but the climate is more temperate with deciduous oak forests and marshlands, but also monsoons don’t @ me I know it doesn’t make sense it’s fantasy okay? Kinan is an archipelagic kingdom, very much tropical, with a strong Southeast Asian flavor, but with blue everything everywhere.

5. Is this a standalone or a part in a series?

It’s a standalone! And also technically like... the prequel for a different solo novel set in the same universe but far into the future when all the sovereign states in SitD have either fallen or morphed into something new.

6. Are there any former titles you’ve considered but discarded?

Fox and Flower. It’s technically not actually a title, just a placeholder, but it has a nice ring to it. I would have used it if not for the fact that I have an aversion to using character names in fantasy titles.

7. What’s the first line of your novel?

‘Hemlock flattened himself into the alcove, chest heaving as he caught his breath.’

8. What’s a dialogue you’re particularly proud of?

Oh man, there’s so many snippets ugh.

There’s this bit:

"I don't know, you could at least pretend to care."

Something like anger flickered in his eyes, but it didn't reach the rest of his face. "All I ever do is care," Fox said, his voice almost flippantly cool. "To do otherwise would be treason, and I'm not eager to die."

"You're unbelievable," Lilac scoffed.

"Would you like it better if I said that very little matters more to me than his well-being?" Fox offered, his tone mocking. "That I've come to see him as my younger brother and I would gladly betray his father if it meant keeping him safe? Is that satisfactory?"

"Why are you like this?"

Or:

"You're such a bastard."

"Indeed I am," Fox said, still smiling. He brushed his fingertips against Hemlock's arm as he stood up from the pallet. "I'll be going now."

"Goodnight, traitor."

"Sleep well, murderer."

Or or this one, which I used as my back-cover quote:

Lilac let her shoulders drop and turned back around to face him. "What's the catch?"

"No catch. I know what a gilded cage it is to serve the crown," Fox said. "I don't believe in caging pretty birds to make them sing on command."

"And what about dangerous animals?"

Fox shrugged. "There is nothing more pathetic than a tiger that has been beaten into submission."

Lilac raised a skeptical brow. "And is that what you are?"

Fox met her gaze with a shake of his head. "I'm just a dog on a leash," he said. "I do as I'm ordered."

9. Which line from the novel most represents it as a whole?

"That doesn't make it taste any less bitter," Fox said, his voice low and cold, "when you offer me the honor of being your second, as if it wasn't always my fucking birthright to stand as your equal."

10. Who are your character faceclaims?

SO here’s the thing: I’ve tried. I’ve TRIEEED to find good photo references for my characters.... but they’re all PoC and darker skinned except Fox, who is still not... pale, per se. Which is a big fucking issue because it’s impossible to find decent photos of a young South Asian man with no beard, or a young Southeast Asian man who doesn’t just look like a kpop idol (which is NOT to say that they all look the same, because they don’t, it’s just that they have a uniformly  p a l e  aesthetic; also he’s not Korean). HOWEVER, I found one really good reference for Lilac:

Lilac is a few shades darker with curly hair, and her eyes are brown, not green, but otherwise she looks very much like this.

11. Sort your characters into Harry Potter houses!

Hemlock - Hufflepuff

Fox - Slytherin

Remin - Ravenclaw

Lilac - Slytherin

Tayali - Slytherin

Vermil - Gryffindor

Bonus side characters:

Xuan - Hufflepuff

Liem - Slytherin

Fern - Gryffindor

Clem - Hufflepuff

12. Which character’s name do you like the most?

Fox and Xuan! 

13. Describe each character’s daily outfit.

Hemlock - black hooded vest over a dark shirt, plain-woven linen pants tucked into sturdy leather boots, knives tucked eveywhere. so many knives. 

Fox - finely made dark cotton shirts with embroidery on the collar and cuffs under a sturdier vest with matching embroidery on the chest panels, black twill pants, black leather bracers and low-necked boots. 

Remin - a brocade shalwar kameez with goldwork and pearl buttons, silk pants and a coordinating sash around his waist, kidskin shoes.

Lilac - a cotton choli with intricate embroidery and a matching lehenga, slippers with beadwork and tiny mirrors, a few bangles and sometimes earrings but no necklaces when she’s working.

Tayali - prior to her defection, the same as Fox. afterwards, loose-fitting shirts fashioned out of colorful batiks and ikats - or adire if she can find it, long pants gathered below the knee, the same low-necked boots from her days as a Black Knife, a delicate-looking necklace with an iridescent steel spider pendant.

Vermil - similar to Remin, but even more ornately embroidered, a dress saber slid into a knotted sash, knee-high boots.

Xuan - an airy silk áo dài in various shades of blue and painted or embroidered with waves or flowers or birds, a matching khăng đóng, a silver bib necklace, heeled silk shoes with silver bird wings embroidered on the toes.

14. Do any characters have distinctive birthmarks/scars?

Fox has an x-shaped scar on his cheek, Hemlock has a thin slash on his cheek, and both have multiple scars on the rest of their bodies. Lilac has a birthmark on her upper thigh. Tayali has scars similar to Fox’s but none visible while clothed. 

15. Which character most fits a character trope?

Vermil is pretty “evil king” but I’m trying to give his character some more depth than that. 

16. Which character is the best writer? Worst?

Remin is both a good and straight up awful writer. He’s great at academic writing and diplomatic missives, so unfathomably bad at love letters. Other than him, I would say Lilac or Xuan are the best writers, and Hemlock is probably the worst. 

17. Which character is the best liar? Worst?

Fox is the best liar, Remin is the worst.

18. Which character swears the most? Least?

Hemlock swears most! He drops f-bombs left and right (altho not in the text bc I’m trying to keep things YA-friendly). Remin swears least because of his ingrained manners.

19. Which character has the best handwriting? Worst?

Remin has very proper penmanship with perfect curlicues and all that jazz. Fox has really pretty handwriting that’s flowy and sort of spidery but still easy to read. Hemlock’s handwriting is the worst comparatively, but it’s not actually bad. It’s just very plain and straightforward. 

20. Which character is most like you? Least like you?

Personality-wise I’m most like Hemlock, but culturally I’m v much Fox. Diaspora, homesick for my mother country, bilingual etc. 

21. Which character would you most like to be?

I think I’d like to be one of the non-field Spiders. I would just craft things for them to use or help forge documents. 

I tag @issun-boshi ​ @longsightmyth​ and @spaceshipkat​ (it’s laini). Feel free to join in even if I haven’t tagged you, and tag me so I can see your answers!

#tag game #about me #stars in the dark #papersky-pencilstars

[mariabblackyr2]

Hauntology and Nostalgia - Lecture + Seminar Notes & Set Task

· Definition of Nostalgia – the state of being homesick, a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition also: something that evokes nostalgia. – conceptual idea of home or about a particular time in past can be real or imagined.

· Why are we so nostalgic? –  ‘ on this day’ on social media apps, ‘throwbacks’ viral movements – social markers encourage nostalgia – technology allows us to explore nostalgia in a more convenient yet public way, bombarded with nostalgic images

  What are you nostalgic for? – times past, old friends, family, youth, carefree living….? Indulge and re-experience these aspects again – what triggers your nostalgia – different experiences, sound, sight, smell, etc. nostalgia rising due to hard times?

·      Digital Nostalgia vs Physical Nostalgia – modern media encourages it – volume of material larger due to the digital age

·      Nostalgia never satisfied yet we still practice it – we chose it

·      Marketing tool? Political persuasion and gain

·      The ministry of Nostalgia –  ‘ we will remind people of how good things used to be. Since no one can now remember a time when things were good, we all need, help to dream of a wonderful bygone age when everyone was paid in golden sovereigns, no one was or died, the weather was perfect, and you could get 200 pints of bitter for a quid.’ – manifesto for monster raving looney party.

· The poster wasn’t mass produced until 2008 which is important as it is a historical object. In 2009 it became increasingly popular due to the reaction to the credit crunch and the banking crash. Tapped into narrative of the ‘British Finniest Hour’ – is there’s a negative uncurrent – nationalist undercurrent?

·  ‘Keep calm and carry on’ – Stuart Manley found a faded poster – a relic from world war two, long lost government propaganda bearing the message. Manley sold copies of poster behind his wife’s back as she didn’t want to commercialise it.

·  Become a joke – a reference within a reference.

· The poster wasn’t mass produced until 2008 which is important as it is a historical object. In 2009 it became increasingly popular due to the reaction to the credit crunch and the banking crash. Tapped into narrative of the ‘British Finniest Hour’ – is there’s a negative uncurrent – nationalist undercurrent?

 “Make Tea, Not War

Save our NHS

Down with This Sort of Thing

Keep Calm & Carry On

Stop Worrying & Enjoy Your Life

Work Hard & Be Nice to People

Make Do & Mend

Read Some Fucking Orwell

Live Within Our Means

Support Our Boys

Make Britain Great Again

Take Back Control” – The Ministry of Nostalgia, Owen Hatherley – how he views nostalgia at it surface level to what’s underneath, each line own connotations, ironic, not his views, critic on our nostalgia, historical connotations, old school nationalism driving nostalgia? 

·      ‘The Good Old Days’ –  Frankie Boyle – mocking the concept

· What are you nostalgic for? – Matthew Frost (2015) Viva Vena – buy into the product

· Textpost – different view on nostalgia depending on when you’re born – a freedom that we missed out on – something an older person struggles to understand – a world without social media – a sense of freedom we miss and would sometimes prefer although technology offers so many more opportunities it also has many downfalls.

· What are you nostalgic for? – Mark Fisher’s Slow Cancellation of the future –  why we mind the past- through artefact’s in star wars – popular entertainment

 Nostalgia happens during reactionary periods, such as austerity in the 1950’s and today.

·      Historically being nostalgic or using nostalgia as a form of expression in art of literature has not been seen as a good thing, rather it’s been viewed as the antithesis of progression and innovation. Miuccia Prada once said ‘nostalgia is a very complicated subject for me. I’m attracted by nostalgia, but I refuse it intellectually.’ – manifests in fashion? Choice of clothing? Retro clothes? Is this nostalgia or the same trends being recycled?

· Stranger Things – nostalgic for older viewers? Followed an old style.

 Storybook sentiment has got hold of consumers looking o escape their stresses and find temporary refuge from adult responsibilities. Nostalgia marketing holds great appeal in times of uncertainty as it allows consumers to reminisce. Bringing them back to simpler, more carefree times’ – comfort drives nostalgia

·What is Hauntology? – nostalgia manifesting in products

 defined by its confrontation with a cultural impasses : the failure of the future. ‘by 2005 or so, it was becoming clear that electronic music could no longer deliver sounds that were “futuristic”” since ww11 up until the 1990’a electronic music held a sense of the future, ‘would habitually turn to electronic music when it wanted to invoke the future’ In 2005, electronics don’t provoke the future any more but feels ‘ strange or dissonant’.

Haunted Technology -  how nostalgia is manifesting in technology 

The end of history 

Culture has lost momentum and we are now all stuck at the ‘end of history’. With modern technologies dislocating us from the traditional notions of time. For example smart phones allow us to never fully commit to a moment, creating a ghostly presence or absence for us. We are almost in a non-time, due to the internet nothing dies anymore and everything comes back.

Seminar:

Part 1:

Personal notes from discussion

Steal like an artist? Our work is a perfect example of hauntology - our work stems from what has worked before - is there much stepping out anymore for example limits within the artworld. 

Everything in culture is a reboot of what has come before

 Nostalgia present in photography in general - childhood photos, memories - will always bring on feelings of nostalgia 

 As well as hauntology present in photographic technology such as film cameras.

Can nostalgia be good and bad? - Tracy Emin - Bed 

Senses link us to nostalgia - certain smells 

Immersed in nostalgia for comfort   

Hauntology and Nostalgia can all be very individual feelings yet are very collective in their own right.

Part 2:

Watch video - free writing exercise 

Surface learning - recalling basic facts, key concern to meet requirements, uncritical reproduction, lack of interest in the topic, getting the job done quickly - give yourself time to be immerse in the task, broad generalisations, basic books and lecture handouts - there our blanket/overall ideas but we should look into the to refine the part that links to us.

Deep learning - students aim to understand ideas, their key concern is do I get it, a key curiosity, critical review of alternatives, consider applications and implications, greater personal interest in topic, taking more time to explore for example recommendations by tutors, key objective is how can I use this material, trust yourself to explain this stuff in a new way, there will always be another point of view that was not given in the lecture, how can apply what has been said to my own work

Critical writing is a process you use a range of writing skills that can be challenging, time consuming and messy but gives you a different clarity on what you're researching - your work will become richer.

Criticism has a negative connotation to it but it's not just negative it is a judgement of the work - personal and others opinions of the topic, testing the evidence, consider alternatives arguments and explanations - completion can’t be reached without, a conclusion. - not just fact telling there is an analysis to be done

Analysis is a critic, investigates the evidence for and against different theories and ideas, considers alternative perspectives , reach an informed opinion, give a reasoned argument

Critical thinking - persistent, sceptical, always ask why am i being told this, who is telling me this, what am i not being told, where is the evidence to support this.

Obtain some level of objectivity - can create a prejudice if not 

‘Pick anyone off the street would my essay make sense to them.

Key Questions : What is the main point to make, can i back up my argument, is the evidence relevant, accurate and up to date, is this view based on false logic

Either describing ( facts , why are these facts important) or being analytical ( pick up key issues, precise what information you use and challenge )

Set Task

For the set task I did some research into Ian Howorth and his work called ‘Arcadia’.

‘The images in this series capture a retro nostalgia and constantly question our preconceived ideas of beauty. Arcadia takes us from the serene if not metronomic seaside towns of the South to the Working Mens Clubs and forgotten factories of the North. Through his unique style and mastery of film, Ian highlights a contemporary Britain suffocated by its past whilst allowing the viewer to draw their own conclusions.’ 

Link to hauntology - Britain living in the past 

Ironic that the photographs are captured by film.

Photographs representing an iconography and stereotype of Britain that is well known 

I think the imagery is slightly before my time however it still allows me to be slightly reminiscent of my childhood for example the caravan’s and bowls on the green 

A nostalgia linked to the seaside parts of Britain 

‘Arcadia has been referred to in popular culture as a utopian vision for centuries. A fictional place which is fertile and bountiful. A promised land of milk and honey. Held aloft by artists, poets and playwrights as a depiction of one’s individual paradise. Now eroded by times relentless indifference to change, it remains lodged in our collective psyche as a touchstone.’

Collective hauntology? - the record player becomes more popular after 2010 - became a staple of pop culture 

Hauntology technology is almost a search for a utopia - we created and created for years never fully achieving this futuristic idea we had for after 2010ish then began more to revert back to old school technology calling is fashionable. 

This collective nostalgia shows how we are suck still in time , at the end of history.

Arcadia as a term  is linked to greek mythology and is a poetic shaped place - a utopia  - Howorths work is  almost a ‘poetic’ version of Britain's past that we are nostalgic about and retreat to for comfort from fear of the future.

links:

http://ihoworth.com/

https://www.itsnicethat.com/articles/ian-howorth-arcadia-photography-230519

https://www.huckmag.com/art-and-culture/photography-2/quiet-discomfort-a-pensive-portrait-of-modern-britain/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pgKQ7yXCXxg

https://www.setantabooks.com/book_author/ian-howorth/

#contextualstudies

[jenniferchardon]

“And...”

This happy-birthday-to-me snap of my end-of-20s, bringing Saturn home era, was exactly three months and three lifetimes ago. I was in LA with one of my favorite people, in-between then and now. I bought two sweaters and a winter hat, got a massage and ate a ton of great vegan food. As I stared at the Departures screen waiting for my flight to Berlin, I texted a friend, I said it doesn’t even matter what happens next, I’ve given up everything for everything.

It took me a lifetime to land, and it’s all kind of a blur now. I made notes as I went because if I don’t write things down I worry I might wake in the middle of the night and panic about what is real and what isn’t. I took all the notes from my phone from December and January and put them together. This is what I got:

Jetlag & jetlag & is this still jetlag? & I’m cold (not the oh-I'm-chilly kind but the-skin-underneath-my-fingernails-is-so-dry-it's-tearing-open-&-I’ve-just-bled-on-the-counter-of-this-coffee-shop kind of cold) & feeling like a total brat for complaining about the cold I wholeheartedly signed up for & what is forever-after? Is it now? & 5-4-3-2-1… how do I do this again? & making lists & burning lists & remembering all the other burnt things & reading, always reading: So Sad Today & Urban Tantra & The Art of Asking. & answering HOW ARE YOU, again & again (Q. Do you mean how did it feel once my feet left the edge of the cliff or how did the risk-everything-for-love thing turn out? What kind of answer are you looking for? I have a many.) & the free-fall that is now my life & the desperate feeling of wanting to touch the earth again & equally the absolute fear of the landing. & do you miss Hawaii? (Q. Do I miss a small island in the middle of the ocean that was "home" for the last three years OR do I miss how I felt there/who I was there/the life I lived there? Like, do I miss my tan or my best self?) & German chocolate & cheese & all the bread & I love bread but can’t eat that much of it because I like being skinny & the shame that I care so much about that & I was vegan once-upon-a-time & the whole moral dilemma of having privilege & choices & being conscious & sensitive & really the whole being a human in a limited body in an unlimited universe thing & feeling SO hot (not the lets-turn-the-heating-down-a-degree kind or the sexy kind but the I've-woken-in-a-burning-sweatsoaked-tshirt-four-nights-in-a-row-now kind of I-am-unwell kind of hot). & always knowing the words and then never knowing the words & learning more ways to say I love you (Ich Liebe dich). & where is my other glove & now I’ve lost them both & I can’t find where we are on GoogleMaps & how did I get here & how am I going to do this? & this is thirty & that is actually us in the reflection of that window, not two imaginary people. (Remember those people from that hostel room? *Knocks on glass* & it doesn’t shatter.) & caffeine fueled anxiety & winter fueled depression & anxiety over anxiety & (Q. I’ve been losing my hair for a while now & how concerned should I be about this?) & an endless quest for remedies/relief/ways to go on, including but not limited to; lavender oil & knitted socks & beeswax candles & sage & peppermint tea & a hot water bottle (Q. can I put boiling water straight from the kettle into my hot water bottle? Will I destroy something and/or myself?) & the usual: fate vs. destiny vs. freewill vs. karma vs. the infinite nothingness. & continuous mild panics over lack of productivity/creativity/money & the guilt that comes with having so much but still having an insatiable amount of desire for so much more. (Q. How to live a meaningful life as an awakened being without feeling guilty or greedy while watching the world go to shit?) & gentle reminders of small mercies & gratitude & the expansion of every past version of self & the shedding of old skin & dry skin & coconut oil for all of it. & questions & an argument about what defines a "balanced life" on an airplane. & rising above the cloud line (always) & the same three yoga poses every day (Q. how do I make my new recycled yoga mat stop smelling like rubber?) & learning to stop saying things like "soon" and "later" & finding a way to say "now" like a prayer & a call to attention & an awakening. & the every-day-ness of a love story.

In the past I made it look too easy. I’ve never actually landed on my feet before. My secret is that I show up in a kind of manic state disguised as blind optimism and then try really really hard, and then things happen. I also believe in many invisible forces and this usually helps. Someone once said to me, you live a very full life, you do more in a month than most people do in a year. I don’t think comparisons like this are ever helpful, but maybe this is why I’m so tired today.

All winter I’ve been trying to be that flower in the desert, you know, that kind of wildflower that grows even in the harshest climate conditions, against all odds she appears so beautifully, as if overnight, as if it took no effort to bloom in unfertile soil. But I’m not that kind of dandelion. I need a lot of care, direct sunlight, etc. I was born a summer baby. I’m pale and coughing and sun deprived. I’m eating tons of bread and using coffee as a drug to boost my mood. I’m holding in one hand the mourning of a life I loved and chose to leave. If I add up all the people and places I’ve ever missed in my life, this is almost how much I miss the sun every day I don’t see her. I didn’t understand homesickness until now. I never knew a place could feel like something lost. They keep saying Spring is coming. I want to believe that it will be soon, but I don’t want to get my hopes up because I’ve seen what misguided hope can do to me. I trust nature though. I’m trying to be patient. I know it’s always summer somewhere.

In my other hand I hold all the pieces of this new lifetime. It’s turning out to be one of those incredibly beautiful puzzles where none of the pieces are the same and depending on the light, all the colors seem to look different. I walk across cobblestones, a quant scene from a European travel guide. I say things like Einen Kaffee bitte and take photos of frozen tree branches and old old churches and go to class to learn to say more things and then hide and line up words that don’t make sense. At three o’clock I turn into a nanny and the twins and I sing She’ll Be Coming ‘Round The Mountain even though I don’t know the words and they’re too small to know any words. I say things like tak tak & ish ish ish & try to get them to eat something other than blueberries. The thing I admire most about being around new life is how pure the love is. When I am with them I am nowhere else. I read something once about how babies are much closer to the source. I feel that. After work I go home and we make incredible Indian or Mexican food or anything spicy and then we stay up talking and write all kinds of lists about all kinds of things. We laugh when we remind ourselves we’re still kind of strangers, like we were all those years ago. We are actually making this thing work. What-are-the-chances and who-would’ve-thought and look at us now.

I have to spread my arms out wide to separate, where I was, and where I am. To mourn and fall in love again, all at once. A classic case of Yin and Yang. On the weekend we built a nest out of pillows and blankets in the living room, just below the windows. We looked out at the sky from our nest. I often think about all the windows I’ve stared from, the hours and hours of window gazing. It’s an underrated art. I think about what a collage of all of these windows of my life would look like. I imagine my life written entirely in captions under each one. The caption for this lifetime would be “And...” I keep learning in everything there is always more.

#amwriting #quoteoftheday #art #creative #wanderlust #travelgram #finditliveit #winter #spring #birthday #girlboss #LA

[houstonlocalus-blog]

Go on a Caffeinated Tour of the Research Triangle

Post from Girl Eats World Leave a comment/read the entire post here

My name is Linda and I’m caffeine-dependent. Since moving to the Research Triangle area of North Carolina, I decided to use coffee as my way to get to know the area and the people. At first it was just a means to leave the apartment and not spiral deeper into my homesickness, and then it quickly evolved into a fun way to get to know the area and the locals. What resulted from my tour was a list of coffee spots to satisfy all coffee whims.

1. Bread & Butter

503 W Rosemary St, Chapel Hill, NC 27516 http://www.chapelhillbakery.com/

Bread & Butter is a cozy coffee shop and bakery in Chapel Hill, just minutes from the UNC campus. They have mismatched worn furniture, a greenhouse style window, and the best brioche. I hear their brioche cinnamon buns are worth a try too. With reliable wifi, quiet atmosphere, and plenty of table space, Bread & Butter is the wonderful place to hunker down with your projects.

2. Caffe Driade

1215 E Franklin St, Chapel Hill, NC 27514 https://www.caffedriade.com/

I had Caffe Driade on my list of places to check out, unaware that I drive by it almost daily! Caffe Driade is tucked into a wooded oasis for you to sip, think, and feel. There are also wine and beer and pastries you can purchase. It’s a perfect date spot under the stars at night and a great pensive space during the day.

3. Cocoa Cinnamon

Multiple Locations http://www.cocoacinnamon.com/

Cocoa Cinnamon has three unique locations and on my second day as a North Carolina resident, I went to two of them! The latest location has sugary churros and drinking chocolate. The churros come in unique flavors like orange and cardamon. I can’t wait to take myself out there for a solo date soon and try more of their lattes.

4. Parker & Otis

112 S Duke St, Durham, NC 27701 http://www.parkerandotis.com/

I’m creating a list of places to take my family and friends when they come and visit.  Parker & Otis is on this list! Great spot for brunch, lunch, and breakfast. There’s a gift shop that I could spend hours in, perusing their stationary, journals, and knick knacks!  I just know a few of my girlfriends back home would adore this space.

Tip for your first time: there’s a counter to order your food and a separate coffee bar counter.

5. Morning Times

10 E Hargett St, Raleigh, NC 27601 http://www.morningtimes-raleigh.com/

When I polled the locals about what coffee shops are must-visits in Raleigh, every single one of them told me that Morning Times is a must. It’s adjacent to and associated with Raleigh Times, which is also a popular eatery in Raleigh. They have an iconic sign at their front doors that spell out COFEE in pretty pink neon and their maple lattes provide a cozy nod to the fall season.

6. Monuts

1002 9th St, Durham, NC 27705 https://www.monutsdonuts.com/

I only sampled their donuts and lattes here and they were a delight! I hear that on the weekends there are long lines and crowds for weekend brunch. So if you’re looking for just an afternoon recharge, I recommend going on a weekday like I did! I especially liked their chocolate coconut cake donut which funnily wasn’t what I would have ordered. I let the cashier pick her favorite donut to add to my loot. So glad I did!

7. Guglhupf

2706 Durham-Chapel Hill Blvd, Durham, NC 27707 https://guglhupf.com/

A beloved cafe, bakery, and restaurant in Durham, Guglhupf is not only fun to try to pronounce but also fun to visit.  Guglhupf is popular for brunch and their dessert game is a strong one. Their leafy patio makes me happy!  Remember to stop by their attached bakeshop and pick up some croissants to take home! I enjoyed their chicken salad and look forward to going there for brunch!

8. Namu

5420 Durham-Chapel Hill Blvd, Durham, NC 27707

What sets Namu apart from the rest of the coffee shops on this list is that they also serve Korean food alongside their lattes! Read more about my solo date to Namu here.

9. La Farm Bakery

248 NW Cary Pkwy, Cary, NC 27513 https://www.lafarmbakery.com/

If you love bread and pastries, I’m willing to bet you’ll love La Farm Bakery. I could smell the buttery breads and pastries from their parking lot!  I took myself on a lunch date there and only wanted to grab a coconut latte and croque madame, but the angelic server presented me a white chocolate baguette sample. After tasting it, I instantly added one to my order to take home with me. Usually white chocolate anything makes me cranky.  (CALL IT WHAT IT IS, “NOT CHOCOLATE”.)  But as soon as I tasted their white chocolate baguette I was hit with both joy and sadness. Joy to have experienced such heavenly delight, and sadness that I couldn’t make a life of eating their white chocolate baguettes.

10. Bean Traders

105 W North Carolina 54 #249, Durham, NC 27713 http://www.beantraderscoffee.com/

Bean Traders make their pies in house and they have delicious and interesting coffee drinks to try. I had the habanero dark chocolate cold brew coffee to wash down my chocolate pie. This place was buzzing with happy people and activity.

11. The Pie Hole

810 9th St Suite 130, Durham, NC 27705 http://www.thepieholela.com/

Speaking of pies, if you’re obsessed with pies, there’s a place just for you here! The Pie Hole! Originally from LA, they recently expanded to Durham. I’ve missed their Shepherd’s Pie and Cereal Killer Pie since the moment I finished them off the last time I visited. Read more about them and gawk at the delicious photos on my dedicated blog post.

12. SOLA

7705 Lead Mine Rd, Raleigh, NC 27615 http://www.solacoffee.com/

Sola will always be special to me. It was my first coffee shop experienced when I came to the area a few months before moving here. I have a friend named Cassie I met online as a teen who turned into a penpal. We met each other for the first time at Sola. I’m so fortunate that seventeen years after meeting her online, we’re now just thirty minutes away from each other! Sola has a full menu and serves beer too! I quite liked their prosciutto sandwiches.

13. Blend & Co

127 E Front St, Burlington, NC 27215 https://www.theblendandco.com/

Tucked in the charming downtown of Burlington, North Carolina is Blend & Co. The light and airy space is Instagram friendly. And you can order smoothie bowls alongside your coffee. I’m going to be bold and say it. Smoothie bowls are better than smoothies! Blend & Co. also has a very cute mobile coffee trailer.

14. Jubala

Multiple locations http://www.jubalacoffee.com/

What makes Jubalya unique is their biscuits! What a pleasant and pillowy snack to have with your lattes. I got the peanut butter and honey biscuit. Their biscuits almost had the texture of a scone.

So that concludes my recent caffeinated tour of the Research Triangle area of North Carolina. Many thanks to these gems for giving me beautiful spaces to meet new friends, write in my journal, and crank out work.

Now back to you! Did I miss any of your favorites? Please leave a comment and enlighten me!

Follow my eating adventures and happenings on Instagram. You can also see what is catching my attention in the food world on Twitter and Facebook.

Possibly Related Blog Posts (automatically generated)August 28, 2017 Newly-Opened Namu Serves Coffee with a Side of Korean FareSeptember 11, 2017 The Pie Hole Expands to the East CoastSeptember 25, 2017 MOFU Shoppe Brings Friends Together in Raleigh with Asian FlavorsMarch 1, 2017 Where to Find Buttery Croissants in Austin, TexasMarch 5, 2015 Austin Coffee Shops

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Pár nap múlva itt hagyom ezt az országot, és ilyenkor azt kellene mondani hogy biztos hamarosan látjuk egymást újra, de a rideg realitás az, hogy nagy eséllyel soha nem jövök ide vissza, mert annyi ország van még, amit nem láttam, és ahol sokkal inkább el tudom képzelni az életem, mert be kell valljam, hat hónap után sem lett Luxemburg a kedvenc helyem.

Ez persze nem jelenti azt, hogy szép fokozatosan és sunyin ne lopta volna bele magát a szívembe a rohadék.

Tetszett a biztonságos és kényelmes jólét, nem tetszett a kiszámítható és sokszor unalmasnak tűnő jólét. Tetszett az értelmes kihívásokkal teli munka és munkahelyi légkör, nem tetszett, hogy ezt minden héten heti öt nap művelni kell.  Tetszett a sok új arc és beszélgetés, nem tetszett, hogy az egész csak átmeneti és múlandó. Tetszett a távollét a megszokott életemtől, nem tetszett a távollét a megszokott életemtől.

Nosztalgia-filterrel persze minden kép szebb, és nem segíti az elválást, hogy megérkezett a tavasz és nyílnak a virágok és néha a nap is süt és így már egészen majdnem szinte szép lett a város, és a sem segít, hogy ma a vonat ablakán keresztül láttam hegyeket és folyókat és mintha meg is dobbant volna tőlük a szívem.

De ez tuti csak egy olcsó csel, mert az elmúlt fél év azért nyolcvan százalékban esőből és ködből és feltúrt utakból és betontengerből és monoton hétköznapokból és munkából és elvágyódásból és panaszkodásból állt, és a legjobb része az ittlétnek mindig az elutazás volt...

…pont mint otthon.

Hülye Luxemburg, azért hiányozni fogsz.

///

Soon I will leave this country for good, and even though the polite thing to say is that I will be back soon but let’s be honest, there’s a great chance that will never happen as there are so many other places I haven’t seen yet and so many places I can rather imagine myself int he future and also, I would lie if I said that Luxembourg ended up on the list of my very favourite places during these six months I spent here.

Of course it doesn’t mean this son of a bitch did not manage to worm its way into my heart.

I loved the comfort and the predictability, I hated that it seemed boring after a while. I loved the exciting and challenging job and the workplace atmosphere, I hated that I had to witness it five days every week. I loved all the new faces and conversations, I hated that there’s an expiry date on all these friendships. I loved the distance from my old life and I hated the distance from my old life.

Sure, all photos look better with the nostalgia filter, and it doesn’t really help either that spring is here and there are colours and smells and even sunshine, and it hurts to admit but the city looks kinda spectacular now, and seeing mountains and rivers and beautiful landscapes from the window of the train today also made things worse.

But hey, it must be a cheap trick, because no matter how much you’re trying to seduce me, I clearly remember that 80% of my time here was spent in fog and rain and a concrete jungle, wih montonous weekdays, and working and longing and feeling homesick and bitching about everything, and the best part of being here was always going away to see new places...

...exactly like when I’m home.

Damn it Lux, I will miss you very much.