#black dog queue are my sunshine

[kaebedom-me]

late afternoon cafe run

synopsis: you decide to head to jjk cafe for a quick pick me up but when you run into a situation involving your favourite barista you just had to step in to help him! only to be face to face with the scariest looking man you've ever seen! but wait??? he's actually really hot???

cw: yuji x reader, aged up! yuji, slight toji x reader, cafe au, fluff, nicknames (dollface, doll, cutie), toji flirting with yuji, slightly ooc! toji, i tried my best to make it gender neutral! reader, they/them pronounce, slightly proofread but not really

word count: 1885

a/n: i've been writing a lot for freyz the past two days so i wanted to write one just for me 🥺 anyways pls give love to the original pieces that freyz drew that directly inspired this fic! here, here, here and here! i also think it's fairly obvious that i have favourites- once again, my ramblings at the end!

You were annoyed. Kind of. Not entirely. But something happened and you're sort of kind of annoyed? Really, it's just an excuse to visit your favourite café a little ways away from your place. 

You had happened across it while exploring the area when you first moved to town. It had been a little busy when you went in then but the service had been phenomenal; it was a tad bit pricier than other cafés in the area but completely justifiable (to you).

The handsome pink-haired young man that had been working the cashier during your first ever visit was hands down one of the nicest people you’ve ever met in your entire life. He practically radiated with good vibes and a kind of sincerity so warm and sweet you think you could get diabetes from spending too much time with him.

He introduced himself to you as Yuji, recommended a drink and pastry, and welcomed you to the neighbourhood. And that had been the end of you, you were hooked, you knew then your soul was signed away to the sun personified to visit this café whenever you could.

Your feet were already taking you out of your door while you day-dreamed. You definitely weren’t hoping that your favourite barista was in today, no, you were going to get a quick drink then come immediately back home to work. 

You thought about what drink you wanted, this had always been your biggest problem whenever you visited them since they had such a large variety, it didn’t help that every drink you’ve tried up to this point had been delicious.

“Welcome!” A voice you recognised greeted you.

It wasn’t too busy today, there was only one massive guy that was in the queue. Your eyes quickly scanned the café, the pretty and friendly brunette was behind the coffee machine tapping away on her phone, and a flash of blonde just went to the back. You also noted the dogs that were behind the baby gates at the back of the café excitedly watching the counter, that meant the broody black-haired guy was here today.

You were practically vibrating in your spot in the queue because you didn’t have to see past the extremely well-built customer in front of you to know who was working the counter. You took out your phone to fiddle with it, trying to act cool and distract yourself.

“C’mon, sunshine, couldn’t you do it for me?” the man in front of you asked.

A shudder went straight down your spine when you heard the man in front of you speak. It sounded so impossibly deep, you subconsciously stepped back a little, mind sensing some kind of trouble. You peaked up a little from your phone to observe.

If Yuji was good vibes, then the man that stood in front of you is bad vibes, overpoweringly so. You thought he’s the exact opposite of Yuji. You could even picture in your head a very menacing and scary face for the man, you gripped your phone a little tighter, you felt like you needed to watch this man like a hawk in case something happened.

“I can’t, I’m sorry, I already made plans tonight.”

Yeah, that was definitely your favourite barista speaking. Good on Yuji for sounding so sure of himself! If you were in his place, you surely would’ve started crying at the mere sight of that scary man’s face.

“Sunshine… Please?” The man drawls, almost purrs. “I’ll buy you your favourite manga, I’d even take you out on a date as thanks if you just did this one tiny favour for me.”

You felt like you were going to wet yourself, your heartbeat was thumping so quickly in your chest. If you were in Yuji’s shoes right now, you’d definitely start crying while trying to serve danger personified. Your mind started to race. But why was he just standing there harassing Yuji?! Was he even going to order!! Did he just come in to bother Yuji because he knew Yuji couldn’t do anything but be polite while working? That’s so sick!

You weren’t sure if it had been bravery or stupidity that took over your body when you suddenly shoved your phone into your pocket. “Excuse me,” you started, mustering up your best angry scary face.

The two men turned their attention to you, confusion clearly written on their faces. You, however, were only focused on the absolute unit of a man. You had severely underestimated the height of this man; he was so huge you hadn’t even realised he was leaning down to talk to Yuji a moment ago, and now that he stood up to his actual height you seriously started to regret your decision.  

“Are you seriously talking to him like that? In broad daylight? How shameless are you?” you said through gritted, glaring at the man.

You were so proud of yourself for sounding so tough! That was until you made eye contact with the scary man. His sharp green eyes bore into yours; you felt your cheeks started to heat up and you almost fell to your knees. You were so wrong, you had it all wrong! He didn’t look anything like the mean, grungy, stink faced man you pictured! No!!! You were face to face with God’s personal favourite creation, handcrafted to perfection, an absolute beaut of a man. No, no, no. You were looking at an actual God because there was no way a human being could be this beautiful.

“I’m sorry?”

Your anger from just two seconds ago just dissipated. You were truly dumbfounded. Speechless from the sheer perfection that was this man’s face. You wanted to look away, but you had to keep looking at him; he was so mesmerising, there’s no way you could physically tear your eyes away from him.

“Fushiguro-san, don’t scare them!” Yuji’s voice pulled you out of your trance.

You watched on as this “Fushiguro-san” eyed you then back at Yuji, his eyes seemed to have sparked a little with recognition before a sly grin started to form on his lips. Your eyes caught the movement, subconsciously flickering down to see the scar on his lip stretch. He let out a hearty laugh.

Something about the way he looked right now made you almost lower your guard. But no! You had to keep it together, in your gut you think you know he’s not to be trusted, you’re just temporarily blinded is all!!

“Listen,” he chuckled, and, oh God, maybe the feeling of wanting to wet yourself hasn’t gone away after all. “It’s a misunderstanding. Promise, dollface.”

“Fushiguro-san!” Yuji huffed.

Fushiguro-san turned his attention back to Yuji and gave him a pout. You briefly wondered how you’d react if Fushiguro-san, in all his glory, gave you that look. You think you’d cry.

“I won’t take your shift tonight and that’s final,” chastised Yuji. “Also, stop trying to hand your shifts to people at the last minute because you don’t feel like working.”

Just then, the tall blonde walked out from the kitchen with a tray of hot pastries, Yuji moved to help the blonde with the tray.

Fushiguro-san turned to you again and offered you another smile. “Worth the shot, yeah?”

You weren’t able to answer. Not when he looked so charming. Your brain steaming up while trying to process how it was physically possible to switch up his demeanour so quickly from a beast to the most charming, handsome man you’ve ever seen.

“Come here often?” He asked you.

Your eyes snapped back to meet his. As if really compelled by God himself, you nodded yes to his question.

“Good,” his voice drops, purring the same way he did to Yuji. Fushiguro-san barely had to step at all to get into your space, he leaned down so close to you, you could drown in his cologne. “Come by later next time, while I’m on shift. I’ll treat you to something as pretty as yourself.”

You gasped. You tell yourself it must be because you had been holding your breath, not because of Fushiguro-san, no way his charms were working on you. No, it’s definitely because you’re so scared right now.

Fushiguro-san hummed, eying you like prey. “Cat got your tongue? What happened to your spunk, doll?”

“Ah! Toji-san!! I told you not to scare them!” Yuji’s voice pulled Fushiguro-san’s attention away from you, much to your dismay.

Fushiguro-san laughed and reached over to ruffle Yuji’s hair, mumbling about how he was just messing around. He then turned to you to excuse himself and walked toward the back where the dogs were. They were jumping and whining, incredibly eager to greet him. You watched as he dug out a couple of treats from his pocket and fed it to the dogs.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Yuji pouted a little when you looked back at him. “Fushiguro-san just likes to mess with people because he can.”

You nodded, still feeling a little dumbfounded. “Ah,” you let out when it finally connected in your head that they were co-workers, possibly even friends. Man, you really wanted to be swallowed up by the ground right now.

“Thank you for standing up for me though! I appreciate it!”

You met Yuji’s eyes bashfully; he truly was an angel.

“Do you want your usual?” Asked Yuji sweetly. “Nanami-san just whipped out a fresh batch of croissants, we have your favourite today too!”

“I think I’ll do my usual and the croissant,” you finally started to relax again.

“Of course! Please, have a seat. It’ll be on me today as thanks,” he offered.

You protested him, you hadn’t done much you told him. But Yuji was very insistent, already stepping to the side to grab the croissants he laid out with Nanami-san earlier. He wanted to properly thank you. You stood there, watching him, you didn’t think you’d be this helpless when you walked into the café today.

Yuji quickly came out from behind the counter with the croissant and a small selection of spreads that he knows you like. He then guided you to the seat you’re fond of, asking about your day and how you’re feeling. Sweet Yuji even pulled out the chair for you, too! Oh, your heart can’t possibly take this.

He set down the still warm croissant in front of you and smiled at you again. “I’ll go make that drink for you now, okay? If you need anything else, please call for me!”

“Thank you,” you sighed, looking up at him. Today sure was something.

“Anything for you, cutie,” Yuji winked. “I’ll be right back!”

Your heart almost stopped for the umpteenth time today. You felt heat rushing back into your cheeks, muttering a small “yeah” to Yuji before shyly turning away.

You’re not sure if you’re able to return here again after the mess that was today. You snuck a glance at Yuji who was humming away behind the counter making your drink. Then you looked at Fushiguro-san who had just finished playing with the dogs; he turned to you as he was walking, you chalked it up to some sort of delusion or hallucination when you thought you saw him wink at you before disappearing into the back.

No, yeah, you’re definitely coming back. 

i like to think that toji's nice and chill in this au because everything is nice and chill that is why he is the way he is uwu

he just looks scary kinda like a bear uwu

aged up! adult! yuji because i want it to be

also I'm a huge advocate for toji/ita actually so that's why they're like that in the story

this route is supposed to be yuji x reader x toji for me 🥺 LOL

harem au when? they all want you 10/10 best route

also, i couldn't fit it in the story but toji can be read as a brother to megumi rather than dad. ofc he can still be megupapa but i thought oniisan toji is very good very cute too

yuji and sukuna are twins but contrary to popular hcs i hc sukuna is baby brother uwu

panda is panda in this au i like to think uwu

choso is biggest bro in the itadori family, followed by eso and kechizu

it's actually a very rowdy time when reader eventually has to sit down to have dinner with the itadori brothers as his official lover

#yuji x reader #itadori yuji x reader #toji x reader #a little bit #mostly yuji x reader #it's hinted #more like it's the begining of toji x reader #jjk x reader #freyz's jjk cafe au #rbs and tag rambles and comments make me happy!! #🥺

[crookedheartedlove]

2022 Watched List: October

My HBO subscription price went up in September so I made plans to cancel it before it renewed at October’s end.

Between emptying my neglected HBO queue, catching up on a film challenge, and Halloween this was an abnormal month of watching.

Peacock (which is free with my internet package) had a section devoted to Halloween episodes from TV shows. I couldn’t count those as individual seasons and I wasn’t going to list each episode (maybe I should have?), so as big as this list is, it’s missing at least a dozen hours from:

Modern Family

Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Pete and Pete (the ep “Halloweenie”)

Halloween Wars (where I couldn’t remember the last season I watched so I rewatched past seasons, flipped through others to jog my memory, and half-watched eps as I figured it out)

Overall I’m proud of myself for clearing my queue, learned I better keep up with my other ones (especially since I’m considering dropping Netflix by the end of the year - tbd), and found some new favorite Halloween films.

Emotionally/personally, well, I took this screenshot early in the month as a placeholder and never found another that fit my situation better so... there’s that.

Good Morning (1959)

Mo Amer: The Vagabond

Down With Love

Collateral

House Party

Dog Day Afternoon

Prom Night (1980)

Poltergeist (1982)

The Faculty

Misery

Music Box: Mr. Saturday Night

Romeo + Juliet

Chungking Express

The Purge

Little Miss Sunshine

The American President

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty

The Perfect Storm

38 at the Garden

There Is No “I” In Threesome

Hubie Halloween*

L'Ascension

The Janes

The Truman Show

Little Shop of Horrors (1986)

Starter For 10

Joe Versus the Volcano

West Side Story (1961)

Safety Last!

Swingers

Under Wraps (1997)

The Blair Witch Project (1999)*

Igby Goes Down

Sticks and Stones: An Exploration of the Blair Witch Legend

The Most Dangerous Game (1932)

Halloween (2018)

Spirit Halloween: The Movie

Halloween Kills

Halloween Ends

Mogul Mowgli

Drive My Car

Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping

Donnie Darko

The Rocker

Vampyr

High Society

A Trip to the Moon

The Conjuring*

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)

Citizen Kane

Barbarian

The Witch

The Woman in Black*

The Invitation

The Wolf Man (1941)

Susie Q

H-E Double Hockey Sticks

Monster House

Dracula (1931)

(I should’ve taken my own screenshot because none of these are shows I viewed! Seriously, y’all, Peacock had the best organization for the season.)

STARTED:

Mare of Easttown

Family Law

FINISHED:

Mare of Easttown

--

* denotes a rewatch

The Invitation is in italics because I got so bored I skipped to the last 15 minutes after reading the details on Wikipedia. That was a disappointing view.

[poltergeiszt]

let’s not talk about it, let’s just not talk // wishbone - richard siken

#iasip #always sunny #its always sunny in philadelphia #macdennis #mac mcdonald #dennis reynolds #richard siken #black dog queue are my sunshine

[twocorndogs]

Letti by Sourav Biswas

#Sourav Biswas #Canon EOS 1200D #Canon EF 50mm f/1.4 #Letti #Dog #Indian Pariah #Black & White #Monochrome #Animal #Pet #original #video #queue are my sunshine

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Eight: Don’t Worry Baby

a/n: hello hello!!! a massive apology for this one being so late it’s been such a hectic week for me, so I really appreciate your patience <3 Thank you for sticking around and for the continued love and support you have shown to this story. It really means the world to me :’) I hope you enjoy this chapter, feel free to chat with me afterwards, I’m intrigued to see where y’all think this story is going now👀 there is certainly much 2 think about... Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 4.5k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven

The faint clanging of pots and pans, Freddie barking, and Pua’s laughter rouses Alani from her peaceful sleep. She sees nothing but pink as her eyes peel open and momentarily thinks that she’s gone blind, but her vision soon focuses on the vague outline of black ink. With a curious dent between her brows, she removes the sticky note pressed to her forehead and turns it over.

GOOD MORNING!

MAKING BREAKFAST DOWNSTAIRS. SEE YOU THERE :)

♡  H

Her mouth, still puffy with the touch of sleep, curls at the edges as she clutches the note to her chest. One hand slides over to the indentation left in her bed by Harry and it’s still warm, which means that he must not have been gone long. Alani climbs out of the covers and races to the top of the stairs where she can hear him and her sister having a playful exchange. 

“I don’t think you put enough chocolate chips,”

“What do you mean? It’s about 90% chocolate right now,”

“So make it 100%,”

As she creeps down the stairs, she spots Pua perched on a swiveling chair at the kitchen island, Freddie snoozing in her lap, while Harry meticulously sprinkles chocolate chips into a bowl of pancake batter next to the stove. The scene makes Alani’s heart swell, so she silently observes for a moment before interrupting. 

“Is this more to your liking, Your Majesty?”

“Much better. Even Freddie thinks so,”

“I thought dogs couldn’t have chocolate,”

“Must you question everything I say?”

“I think he’s right,” Alani confirms, stepping into the kitchen to tussle her sister’s hair and pet Freddie. Harry lights up at the sound of her voice and immediately sticks his cheek out for a kiss. She gives him a peck and accepts the chocolate chip that he holds to her lips, letting him have a taste as it dissolves on their tongues. 

“Please, don’t stop on my account,” Pua grimaces. 

The pair separate and Alani pokes her tongue out at her younger sister, making Harry chuckle beside her. 

“Hey, no fighting,” he warns. “Or no one gets pancakes.”

“She started it!” both sisters defend in unison. 

They share a laugh and dissolve into their own antics while Harry returns to the stove with a cheerful whistle. He methodically shapes the pancakes into hearts on the skillet, playfully swatting Alani’s hand away from the bag of chocolate every five minutes or so. Freddie waits patiently at Harry’s ankles during the entire cooking process, praying that the human will drop a scrap of food his way. 

“Sorry, Mr. Mercury,” Harry apologizes, reaching down to give the dog a gentle pat. “These aren’t for you. Take it up with Mother Nature,”

Alani fills Freddie’s bowl to relieve Harry of his dog-sitting duties before hopping up onto the counter beside him. He slots himself between her legs, flashing a cheesy grin that makes her giggle, and her fingertips trace over the faint shadow of stubble around his jawline and above his lip.

“Can you grow a beard?”

“Do you want me to?”

Alani shrugs, considering the idea. “I was just wondering if you were capable,”

“Hey,” he pouts. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smiles innocently, pinching his chin. “Nothing, I like the fresh face. But stubble’s kinda hot,”

“Noted,” Harry winks.

“I like spending my mornings with you,” Alani admits quietly. “And the whole chef thing you’ve got going on is definitely a perk,” 

Harry’s dimple resurfaces and his emerald eyes gleam. “Me too, sweets. Did you like the note I left you?”

“Yes, it was a very nice touch,” Alani confesses, heart still soaring over the sentiment. 

“Didn’t wanna wake you. Looked so peaceful drooling, hair all in your face—”

“—Hey!”

“Did you know that you kinda talk a little in your sleep?”

“I do not!” 

Harry kisses the wrinkle in the middle of her forehead and it eases. “Do too. It’s cute, though.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Alani grumbles with a small, affectionate smile. “Let’s eat.”

Both Pua and Alani compliment Harry on the restaurant quality of his heart-shaped pancakes, and he accepts the praise with a bow that makes them both giggle. The three of them gather happily around the dining table, sharing jokes and analyses of each other’s dreams from the night before. Of particular interest is Pua’s dream about her teeth being replaced by kernels of candy corn, which Harry explains is a warning to cut down on the sugar before bed. 

“You’re no fun,” Pua teases with her arms crossed. “Only had a pint of ice cream last night,”

Harry snickers. “As opposed to?”

“Alani, can you date a dairy farmer next time?” 

“Hey!”

Alani rolls her eyes, but her smile reveals her true amusement. “Be nice,”

“Thought I was your ‘favorite singer,’” Harry sulks. 

Pua’s eyes dart to her older sister. “You told him?!”

“What?” Alani asks innocently. “It was sweet,”

Harry’s brow furrows. “Why wasn’t I supposed to know that?”

“Cause you’ll get a big head,” 

“Too late. I won your sister over, even though she’s way out of my league,”

“And don’t you forget it.” Pua cautions with a friendly tussle of his hair before standing with her empty plate. 

Harry chuckles lightly. “I thought we were friends,”

“Sisters before misters,” Alani shrugs, grabbing his plate and utensils to put in a pile with her own. “So whatcha doin’ today?”

“Good question,” he ponders, tapping his chin. “Get dressed, we’re going out,”

“Where to?”

“It’s a surprise,”

“I don’t like surprises,”

“Tough,” Harry maintains. “And you’re a liar cos everyone likes good surprises,”

Alani traces a heart onto the back of his hand with her fingertip and sighs. “But I need to know what to dress for,”

“Dress for the perfect afternoon with your favorite guy,”

“James Marsden’s coming?”

Harry purses his lips and stands. “Alright, I’m leaving now,”

“I’m kidding!” Alani giggles, offering an apologetic kiss. “I’m sorry, sunshine. Please don’t go,”

“I wasn’t aware that James Marsden made you these pancakes,” Harry dodges her affection.

“Or that he had your face as his screensaver,”

“You do not!” Alani counters, eyes wide. 

She gasps when he holds up his phone to reveal her unflattering selfie. “Why?!”

“Because you’re so cute, that’s why!” Harry explains with a delicate smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Even when you’re mean,”

Alani playfully swats his arm and pulls him closer by the pocket of his hoodie. “I’m sorry, ku’uipo. You’re the sweetest. Thank you for breakfast.”

“Welcome, dove,” he beams. “Now grab some clothes, we gotta stop by my place first.”

********

Alani slips on a pair of platform sandals and smoothes out her skirt while Harry pulls on a white t-shirt with a blue bandana secured around his neck. The polka dots on her yellow dress bring a fond crease to the corners of his eyes as he swipes a pair of black sunglasses from his dresser and pushes them into his unruly curls for the time being. 

“Give us a twirl,” he requests, whistling when she obliges. 

Alani spins into his arms and her hands smooth over the soft material of his burnt orange button up adorned with white lilies. “Digging the white tee, babe. How very James Dean of you.”

“Only the best for you, doll.” Harry shoots back in his best American accent. 

As they make their way to the back of the house where the Cadillac is parked, he queues up a song that he hopes will bring a smile to Alani’s face. “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini” begins playing as loud as his phone speakers will allow and he flashes a cheeky grin in her direction. “Bit of a theme song for you today,”

“You’re such a cheese ball,”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” he teases with a pinch of her thigh. 

“Never said I didn’t,”

“Fair enough,” 

“So, are you finally gonna tell me where we’re going now?” Alani asks, batting her eyelashes. 

Harry shakes his head and tuts in mock disapproval. “Are you gonna try to ruin every surprise I plan for you?”

“I just wanna know what to expect!”

“You’ll like it, promise,”

“A hint?” she bargains. “An itsy bitsy, teenie weenie one?”

Harry captures his bottom lip between his teeth and thinks. “It’s for something in your room,”

“That’s all?” Alani blurts. “That could mean anything!”

“You said one hint and I delivered! So why don’t you just sit back and enjoy the ride now?” he suggests, laughing to himself when Alani crosses her arms with a huff. 

The drive is scenic and the weather is especially nice, which explains why the beaches they pass are more crowded than usual. Alani checks “beach” off her list of possible locations, racking her brain for the items in her room that could have possibly caught Harry’s attention. She wonders if he noticed the various scented candles perched on her nightstand and dressing table, deciding that a candle shop probably isn’t likely. Momentarily, she recalls the pile of books on her desk and her mind flashes back to their conversation about one of their mutual favorite authors, Angela Avery. Getting warmer. Harry remains tight-lipped and merely offers a coy smile or a whistle each time Alani ventures a guess. But just when she started to believe she would wear him down, the two of them pull into the parking lot of Moku Records and draw her speculation to an end. 

“Of course,” Alani surrenders, stepping out of the passenger door that Harry opens for her. “I should’ve known,”

“Came here my first week. The day after I met you, actually,” he explains bashfully.

Alani’s cheeks warm at the sentiment, and she laughs at the way he swings their joint hands softly as they cross the empty parking lot. Harry pulls the door open and she takes a curious step over the threshold, noting the hint of jasmine and sandalwood mixed in the air of the little shop. Her eyes immediately land on the A-B section first where she spots ABBA and The Beatles, and her fingers tenderly run over the cover art. 

“Like a kid in a candy shop,” Harry observes fondly. “Pick out whatever you want,”

“Are you serious?” Alani asks, eyes wide.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Course. Wanted to make a contribution to your collection,”

“I don’t know,” she smiles sheepishly. “I don’t want you spending a lot of money on me. I really appreciate the offer, though,”

“So what if you pick some out for me, too? Then we can think of it as compensation for your generous musical recommendations,” Harry puts forward.

“You make music for a living,” Alani scoffs. “What do you need my recommendations for?”

“What, you think musicians are born knowing every song that exists?”

“Okay, fine. Who can we credit for your music taste, then?”

Harry mulls it over for a second, a gentle hum vibrating in his Adam’s apple, before he responds. “My mum, mostly. Some friends—”

“—Any exes?” Alani fishes. 

“Yeah,” he confirms shyly. “Some I guess. You?”

“Same, pretty much,”

“Right, well now you’ve gotta tell me where you picked up all of these albums ‘cause I don’t wanna be buying shit your ex-boyfriend introduced you to,” Harry teases to lighten the mood. 

An amused exhale escapes from Alani’s nose and she shakes her head. “No, I meant your exes also inspired me,”

 She holds up a record with the numbers “1989″ and a familiar blonde on the cover, and Harry shoots her an unamused look. “Okay, now you’re just being mean again,”

“Long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt,” Alani sings as he turns to walk away. 

“Keep it up and you’re gonna be buying your own bloody records!”

“Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style,” 

Harry gives her a sharp side-eye, but the faint curl of his lips betrays the intended message of his glare. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because it’s a good song,” Alani giggles. “And you’re just being a hater,”

“Thanks,”

Alani turns on her heel with Harry’s palm pressed firmly against hers, and continues to sort through the collection of vinyls. The two of them snake through the aisles and pull albums that they think the other person would enjoy. Harry grabs one from Wings that has been in his recent playlists while Alani explains that he absolutely must own the vinyl version of “AM” by the Arctic Monkeys. He picks out a Shania Twain and highlights the track “You’re Still the One,” which Alani counters with The Mamas and the Papas. 

“Wait,” Alani stops, pulling another record excitedly. “You gotta have this one as a starter,” 

Harry accepts the copy of Queen’s “A Day at the Races” and adds it to the growing pile. “A classic, of course,”

“And I already have its sister album, ‘A Night at the Opera,’ so we can share, ” she suggests, turning back to her browsing. 

Harry’s phone rings and he shuffles the albums around in his arms before lifting it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Jeff’s voice carries through the speaker. “Film crew’s here. Are you on your way?”

“Shit,” Harry curses, eyes shutting tight. 

“You forgot?”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible,”

He had completely disregarded all of his previous plans in favor of spending every possible minute with Alani. One of those plans, however, was a mini documentary following the formation of his debut solo album which would start filming that day and continue over the course of the week. 

“No worries,” Jeff continues. “Might wanna give Alani a heads up if you bring her, though.”

“Thanks, mate. See you soon.” Harry says before ending the call. 

Alani had only been half listening, still admiring the artwork of the vinyl covers. “Everything okay?”

“Music thing I forgot about. Gotta go back to the house for a bit,”

“Okay,” she nods understandingly, though it pains her to do so. “So you can just drop me off at my house and we’ll hang tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow?” Harry repeats. “I can pick you up after work, it’ll just be for the afternoon,”

Alani shakes her head apologetically. “My dad’s picking me up on his way home from the airport. He’s getting back from his trip tonight and he’ll wanna see me and my sister,”

“Oh,” he relents, defeated. “Okay, so tomorrow morning?”

“Well, tomorrow afternoon. I work the morning shift,”

Harry groans. “Twenty-four hours?” 

“We’ll be fine,” Alani chuckles, taking some of the records from his hands to lighten the load.

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that,”

“That’s a load of bollocks,” 

“Bollocks? God you’re so British,”

“And you are so American,” Harry pouts over the sudden derailment of his romantic afternoon plans. “God, this sucks,”

Alani offers him a kiss to soothe the sting, which he accepts with a hum. “Majorly. But hey, what can you do? The music calls.”

They check out and she carries the bag on her hip, the temporary relief of retail therapy distracting her from the disappointment of their time cut short. Harry checks the time and calculates that he’ll be a little later than promised, but he’s more concerned with making every second with Alani count. There’s a bit of cloud coverage over his usual sunny disposition, so she tries her best to cheer him up by lifting their intertwined fingers and pressing gentle kisses to his knuckles. 

“Thank you for the most perfect afternoon,” she murmurs against his skin.

“Wasn’t supposed to be over for a few more hours.” 

“Every minute with my favorite guy is like heaven.” Alani admits, watching intently as his smile slowly returns. 

********

“How’s California?”

“You know, it’s kinda growing on me. My nana and pops send their love,” 

“Aw, miss them,” Alani smiles, shifting the phone to her other ear. She decided to spend her free afternoon catching up with her best friend still on the mainland, though her thoughts occasionally drifted back to Harry. “Any cute surfer boys?”

“Maybe one,” Maleah confides. “But it’s nothing serious,”

“And you’ve been holding out on me?” Alani gasps. 

“His name’s Max, he’s a lifeguard,”

“I demand photos immediately,”

“Sure thing,” Maleah giggles sweetly. “Speaking of boytoys, where’s yours? I thought you two were attached at the lips at all times,”

Alani walks her toes up the wall, a soft grin easing onto her face when she spots the pink sticky note from earlier. She turns her head to Harry’s spot and takes a deep breath to soak in the lingering scent of vanilla.

“Working, kinda,”

Maleah frowns. “Doing what exactly?”

“Some music thing. I guess they’re filming a behind the scenes mini-film or something, I’m not entirely sure. Harry was kind of cryptic,”

“That’s weird,”

Alani sits up. “Do you think it sounds fishy?”

“No way. Mr. Perfect would never,” Maleah assures her. “But you know him best. What does your heart tell you?”

It hadn’t even crossed Alani’s mind that Harry might not be telling the truth, but for a brief, guilt ridden moment she considers it. She quickly closes that door after considering all the things he had already been so open about. “He would tell me if something was up,”

“Then there you go,” Maleah says decisively. “That’s good that you guys are so open. Communication is key as they say,”

“Yeah, absolutely. Mind if I gush for a second?”

“Of course not, spill!” Maleah urges her. 

Alani recaps the events of the last couple of days, from the painting and the heart-shaped pancakes to the record store. The weight of Harry’s absence grows heavier with each passing minute until it forms a lump at the back of her throat, but she swallows it down.

“Wow,” Maleah swoons. “What planet did this guy come from, and are there more of him there?”

“Sometimes I think he’s too good to be true, like I made him up or something,”

“Can you make me one like that, too?”

Alani giggles. “What about Max?”

“Well hey, maybe we can all double date sometime,” her best friend suggests eagerly. “He’s kind of coming to visit when I go back home,”

“I thought you said it wasn’t serious?”

“Yeah, well, I just didn’t wanna jinx it,” Maleah explains shyly. “So whaddya say? Think Harry will be in town a couple more weeks for us all to meet up?”

Alani searches her brain for any mention of Harry’s travel plans and it suddenly dawns on her that she didn’t know how long he planned to stay, or where he would go once he did eventually leave the island. He had said once that he considered London his home, but it hadn’t exactly been a straight answer. The thought of his inevitable departure makes her stomach turn, so she musters up a more hopeful answer than what reflects her worries. “Definitely.”

********

Harry rushes into the house and runs a hand through his disheveled hair. The voices of his manager and friends mixed with the unfamiliar chatter of another person echo from the kitchen, and he takes a deep breath to steady his nerves. 

“I’m sorry for being so late,” he apologizes with an outstretched hand towards one of the strangers he’d only conversed with over emails. “It’s nice to meet you,”

"Paul,” the man offers warmly. “Paul Dugdale,”

“Harry,”

Paul introduces the rest of the film crew that will be following the band for the week and Harry extends a gracious welcome to each of them, despite secretly wishing that he’d never agreed to the project in the first place. Every minute on camera, he realizes, is another agonizing minute away from Alani. 

“So listen,” Paul instructs. “Based on everything we’ve discussed in our creative meetings, we’re gonna approach this very fly-on-the-wall style. Very little intervention, you won’t even notice we’re here,”

“Good deal,” Harry nods. 

“We’ll save the interviews for when you come back to London in two weeks,”

“I’m sorry, what was that you just said?”

Paul’s brows furrow. “About the interviews?”

“The two weeks bit,” Harry clarifies. 

“Oh, right. Well we’re gonna need you back in London in two weeks so we can film the sit-down interviews that will sort of guide the narrative. But don’t worry, we already scheduled it around the Dunkirk shoots so there shouldn’t be any conflicts.”

Harry’s head spins. He had been living in such a carefree bubble with Alani that every other responsibility in his life career-wise had slipped his mind entirely. There was no way on Earth that he could pack everything up and leave just when things had started to fall into place for them. With uneasiness burrowing a whole in the pit of his stomach, Harry musters up a pleasant smile. “Course, sounds great.”

The film crew sets up quickly and urges Harry and his friends to go about their usual business, but nothing feels natural about the clock ticking away inside the singer’s mind. He had always known that he was living on borrowed time in Hawai’i, but he hadn’t planned on finding something worth sticking around for. There had to be something he could do, some way that he could stay even if it was just until the end of summer before Alani would have to return to school full-time in the fall. Despite the uncertainty surrounding his plan to buy more time, one thing is certain: he can’t tell Alani until he has a solid course of action. Harry is fully aware of the risk he runs by leaving her in the dark, but it seems less daunting than the possibility of her ending things because of the sudden expiration date put on their relationship. And no matter how long Harry is able to extend their time together, he knows it won’t be easy to leave Alani and everything they had built together behind. His anxious fingers fiddle with the strings of the guitar resting in his lap as he imagines what it will take to prove his feelings, wishing all the while that he could just hold her in his arms and hear her say that everything would be alright. 

********

Alani yawns, but she rubs the drowsiness out of her eyes and returns her fingers to the keyboard. She isn’t sure whether she should go through with the Rolling Stone submission, but writing has always been her way of processing her thoughts, so she decides not to let the material that she already has go to waste. Her phone buzzes on the nightstand next to her cup of coffee and she lifts it gently before reading the caller ID. 

“Hey, sunshine,” she murmurs.

“Did I wake you?”

“Nah, just doing some writing,”

A smirk tugs at the corners of Harry’s mouth. “Anything I would like?”

“It’s about you,” 

“Love it already,”

Alani giggles softly on the other end and it makes Harry’s chest ache. “Funny that you called. I’m actually having a bit of writer’s block,”

“Alright, let me help you out,” Harry clears his throat. “Harry Styles: aspiring musician, fashion novice, phenomenal lover—”

“—And the most humble person I know,”

“Yeah put that, too,” he adds playfully. “Hey, what time are you working tomorrow?”

Alani yawns and closes her laptop for the night. “Eight to three,”

“Shit,”

“She works hard for the money or whatever Donna Summer said,”

Harry checks the time on his phone—23:39—and he decides to act quickly. “Can you stay awake for another 20 minutes?”

“Yeah, I guess. Why?” Alani questions, taking a sip of her tepid coffee.  

“Just don’t fall asleep. I’ll call you back in a few.”

“Okay.”

She assumes that Harry must have gotten busy again and puts on a movie to keep her awake. Fifteen minutes pass and her eyelids are as heavy as bricks, but the ringing of her phone nearly causes her to jump out of her skin. 

“Hello?” she answers weakly. 

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair! Or a ladder, preferably,”

Alani’s face scrunches in confusion. “What?”

“I’m outside, sweets,” 

She quickly jumps to her feet and makes her way over to the window at the opposite side of her room. Sure enough, Harry is waiting below with a thumbs up and she chuckles to herself as she lifts the windowpane up. 

“What are you doing?”

“Climbing this tree I guess, since you’re no help,” he explains, already finding his footing in the Acacia Koa outside her window. 

“We have a front door, you know,”

Harry swiftly maneuvers from branch to branch, which frankly surprises himself as much as it does Alani. When he finally reaches the window and hoists himself inside, a victorious grin spreads across his face punctuated by a dimple on each cheek. “Can James Marsden do that?”

“You’re crazy,” Alani muses, an incredulous look in her eye. 

Harry shrugs and reaches behind his back to close the window gently. “Only about you,”

Alani wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in for a warm kiss, humming when she feels his strong hands smooth up and down her spine. 

“Missed you,” he whispers against her lips, tickling her sides lightly. 

She giggles and tightens her embrace. “Missed you more,”

Harry kicks off his shoes and follows Alani into her bed, his head tilting when he spots a familiar picture tacked to her ceiling. “Is that—?”

“—An original from my favorite up-and-coming painter, Harry Styles?” she questions, completing his thought. “Why yes, it is. But it’s not for sale, so don’t even think about it,”

“Right next to the O’Keeffe one,” he boasts. “I’m honored,”

“You should be,”

Harry searches his memory to no avail. “Where did you say the original was?” 

“New York Botanical Garden,” Alani murmurs against his neck, fighting the fatigue weighing on her muscles. 

“I’m gonna take you one day,”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he affirms with a feathery kiss to her temple. 

Alani sits up and rests her chin on his chest, peering down at him with sleepy eyes and a sweet smile.

“Can’t wait,”

“I should probably go,” Harry breathes deeply, his own exhaustion settling in. “Let you sleep. I just wanted a good-night kiss,”

“No, stay. I’m not even tired,” Alani pleads. 

“Your droopy eyes say otherwise,”

“So tell me something to keep me awake,”

Harry swallows. He searches his brain for something to say other than the news that he isn’t ready to break yet. “Like what?”

“Liiiike,” Alani sighs. “Why One Direction broke up,”

“It’s not a very interesting story,”

“I don’t believe you, but whatever. Tell me a secret, then,”

“A secret,” Harry leans in close, the tip of his nose brushing agains the apple of her cheek. “I really wanna kiss you now,”

Alani pulls back the slightest bit to steal a glance at his mouth, already parted enough for her to slot her lips between his. She buries her fingertips in the soft curls at the nape of his neck and the taste of Harry’s spearmint washes over her tongue. His hands brace each side of her neck as he plucks needy kiss after needy kiss from her generous lips. 

“I can’t believe we didn’t even make it a whole day apart,” Alani jokes when they pull apart slowly. 

“It’s after midnight,” Harry mumbles against her skin. “So we kinda did.”

She chuckles and plants a delicate peck to his forehead. “I love the way your mind works.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles x oc #one direction #one direction fanfic #ymbh

[meadow-of-mogai-melodies]

is it okay to ask about the rqs that have been sent? i can't remember if i requested something or not,, /gen

if i did it was probably on anon

(also it's olay if you don't want to)

sure thing! here's all the requests i currently have and all the ones that are in my queue-

-A gender that is female at its base but presents masculinely in a masc/butch wlw( this isn't an orientation gender, im just trying to decribe that flavor of gender nonconformity) kinda way and has to do with aliens, arcades, late night dates, burgers/fastfood, empty parking lots, young love, neon lights, recklessness, loud music, rain and stars

-a gender related to space, purple, black, neon colors, pastel colors, arcade floor, being a feminine boy, cats, catboys, fauns, soft things, kidcore, dreams and being transmasc

-a xenogender related to skateboards, flowers, masculine, and rain

- a gender related to sunshine through a mossy forest, sunflowers, the colour yellow and pastel pink, bumblebees, and dogs, and to being schizo-spec, adhd, and having osdd-1b

-a gendie thats connected to angels, clouds, doves, light princecore, white feathers, wings and gold jewelry

- a gender related to European pine martens and cows, pine trees and firs, forest walks, mountains surrounding you, Alpine flowers, cold river water, warm sunlight, clouds running through the sky, scent of wood, mint, melon, clear mountain air and flowers, greens, greys and blues

- a gender that's related to orange boy cats and how they're himbos

-A gender that feels like a raging, unforgiving blizzard in your identity, and like every gender you have is a piece of snow that you try to grab on to but whips away too quickly? It can be a multigender/hoarder identity but it doesn't have to.

- a feminine male gender related to space, aliens, corvids, the deep sea, fantasy creatures, mermen/mermaids, and being alterhuman

- an animalatic and nonhuman gender that's related to ravens being corrupted by eldritch beings, stealing shinnies and trinkets, stealing and collecting, living in dark evil woods, being wild and feral, a little mysterious with a connections of worms, corrupted forests, the Shrieker (from Darkest dungeon), all with a feminine tint

- a gender thats related to being a maned wolf therian/having a past life as a maned wolf that feels gentle and feminine in a motherly way but not in a binary gender way

-a gender related to being part of a OSDD-1b,traumagenic,solumgenic,isolgenic,autigenic,autibased,adaptive,multigenic,dreamway,paragenic,stressgenic,voidgenic,paligenic,neurogenic,Algenic,Apagenic,Chaogenic ,mixed system

- a xenogender related to flowers, night, the 1940s, and quietness (im doing this one on my main tho)

- a Bunnycore,Candycore,Cartooncore,Decora,Kidcore,Pastel, Cottagecore laying in a field of flowers and being a sfw age regressor and pet regressor (all in one gender ) gender

- a gender that At its base it is male but expresses femininely and relates to pastels, glasses, sweaters, fairy lights, succulents and coffee

- a xenogender related to rainbows, dinosaurs, dragons, stickers, clouds, being a/loving cute dinosaurs and dragons, loving cute/soft plushies and being autistic. A childish, cute and playful gender. Can be related to age regression, species regression and special interest(s) in dinosaurs and dragons?

- A gender related to webcore, evil scientist aesthetics, artificial beings such as androids/cyborgs etc, turtleneck sweaters and old computer monitors

- A gender related to sitting in the semi-crowded parking lot of a grocery store in your car. Its raining, cold and overcast and the windows are cold aginest your cheek. The lights of the parking lot illuminate all the water droplets on the outside of the car windows and the smell of the rain is drifting about cause your ac is on. Its melancholic and abit existential but your trying to make peace with your inner sadness and anger. Your trying to tell yourself that you will be ok, even if you are the only one to say it.

#reign replies

[rvmmm21]

[ V V S her diamonds ] – ch 04.

[5:45 p.m.] Washed-out rays of sunshine flood the arcade cafe, and Seungwan can’t contain her flourishing smile at the thought of Bae Joohyun visiting her at work. 

. . . . .

Sometimes I wish I could go and live in the clouds of your fantasies.

Being a part-time barista is a safe-haven for all of hers.

The junior buzzes around behind the counter, systematically preparing orders of cakes and coffees on the tiny overhead order slips. A satisfied hum sounds as she finishes prettying the dessert display and slides the glass window closed.

Cake display, check. 

Watermelon lychee-mint crush, coming up.

She dries her hands after spooning the frozen watermelon chunks into the blender, and the crinkle of her leather apron sounds brand new for some reason. Perhaps it’s because she feels brand new. Either way, her customers seem to pick up on her good mood too, and it blows her usually gruelling shift by like a light summer breeze. The hustle of work-pressed university students scrambling for their sugar rushes and extra shots of caffeine dulls in her ears, the memory of the past three weeks sitting at the very forefront of her thoughts. 

The past three weeks of back and forth texting, weekly study dates and a volantly climbing heart rate– wait no, a steadily building friendship.

About halfway through the afternoon, the regular tempo of her shift suddenly interrupts with a swish of silky hair and an award winning smile. 

“Wow, a barista. Cute and talented, I see. Where do I sign up?”

Seungwan adjusts the straps on her apron, blinking. “Taeyeon sunbaenim?”

“Kidding, kidding,” the girl laughs, holding her hand out as if that would somehow quell the bout of unease that had begun to well in the pit of Seungwan’s stomach. 

Remaining professional, she answers with a nervous laugh of her own. “What can I get for you today, sunbaenim?”

Taeyeon hums, tapping a delicate finger to her chin while she stares down at the fancy little menu. A vague smirk graces pink lips as her fingertip traces the bold laminated print. “Hm, what do your pancakes come with?”

Seungwan leans over the cash register to glaze over the small description underneath and then snaps back up, knowing the ingredients by heart already. “Oh! They’re plain buttermilk, but you can choose your topping! Uh… strawberries and ice cream is– it’s a customer favourite, if you’d like.” 

A hum of deliberation. “I see. And do I get special service?”

“S-Sorry?” The suggestion in her tone chokes the girl, unsure of what that means. 

Taeyeon gracefully giggles and leans over the counter to playfully tap Seungwan on the shoulder. “Yah, you’re too funny. I meant an extra scoop of ice cream. Since we know each other, obviously. Why, what were you thinking?”

“Ah! Of course I can do that for you,” she chuckles awkwardly, keying in the order. Seungwan’s fingers flinch around the Amex Black Card when it doesn’t slip out of Taeyeon’s as easily. Chestnut eyes peek up at her, and from the casual smirk on her face, the older girl seems to know what she’s doing.

“Oh yeah,” her expression contorts as though she’s trying to recall why she’s now holding up a small queue of foot-tapping, huffing customers. “How’s your project going?” 

She answers hastily, eyeing the holdup. “It’s great! Joohyun unnie is really helping me with this class.”

Taeyeon raises a brow. “Unnie?”

“Y-Yeah, Joohyun unnie’s great, can– can I take your card, please?” she reiterates.

“Ah,” the other girl finally nods in realisation, “you two are close friends now. That’s great! I’m glad to hear it’s going well.” The grip on the credit card slackens. “Thank you, Seungwan.”

Seungwan purses her lips, stiffly rocking on her heels as they both wait for the card reader to go ‘beep’. Once Taeyeon walks away, her tension dispels with a heavy sigh and she signals for the next customer.

Softy’s Autumn Morning comes on the set playlist shuffle. Pleasant lo-fi beats ripple through the cafe and Seungwan gently bops along as she works, carefully eyeing the bubbling pancake mix to make sure it doesn’t burn. 

Time seems to slow to a glacial pace. That is, until the little bronze bell chimes and a certain someone walks in. Seungwan recognises that vintage Balenciaga Defile Sport hoodie in a heartbeat. Her legs kick into gear and she rushes over to meet her. Joohyun approaches the counter with her signature gaze of boredom, but hides a laugh behind her sweater paw when she sees the barista almost trip over her own sneakers. 

Five minutes later, said barista is hunched over a small cup of latte, hands steadily crafting two pointy milk ears with the help of a toothpick.

As she pops a little bonus on the saucer in replacement of their standard Lotus Biscoff biscuit, Seungwan wonders where Sooyoung and Jennie are, melting a little at how Joohyun looks so small and harmless without the final duo to complete her killer posse. God, when they're all three together, it gets really hard to not believe she'sthe precious daughter of South Korea's most elusive mafia boss. The rumours have to come from somewhere, right? She takes a deep breath to steel her nerves before serving the mafia daughter sitting by the window.

“Enjoy your coffee, unnie!” she chirps, setting the steaming drink down. Service with a complimentary home baked cookie is her way of saying ‘I think you’re super cool’. 

Totally embarrassed at her dumb little gift, the girl slinks back to her station with sizzling ears before her senior can even thank her.

How cute.

Joohyun’s lips curl into a secret smile at the milk foam cat happily greeting her from her latte.

. . . . .

[7:45 p.m.] Seulgi whines when she goes to get a Cola from the fridge and finds the door wide open with Yerim chugging milk straight from the carton. Her roommate calmly caps the lid, dutifully ignoring her.

. . . . .

Polystyrene containers of spicy tteokbokki, salmon sashimi, crispy pork mandu as well as skewers of various glazed meats glisten deliciously under warm living room lights. It’s the perfect go-to cheat day feast. 

“Unnie, you’re like those tragic lovers in my dramas,” the youngest blurts, chewing on her Yakult straw. “Literally every one of them. Too dumb to confess and then drowns in their tears at night. You gonna break the cycle or what?”

Shock seizes Seungwan’s expression before she shakes her head at the way this heartless dongsaeng just takes her feelings and tosses them around like a salad. Still, she thinks, there’s no harm in being honest.

“What’s there to confess? We’re just friends."

Seulgi and Yerim exchange a silent look at the neat pile of tteokbokki on Seungwan’s plate. They remembered only a month ago, their friend seemed to have eyes for nothing else. The dish was so tasty she could marry it, apparently. But its charms seem to have worn off; now overshadowed by Joohyun’s endearingly obnoxious laughter and just about everything about her.

"Plus, you know, I doubt Joohyun unnie sees me that way either."

An epiphany strikes Yerim and she slaps her hand on the table, jabbing a restless finger at her shocked dorm mates. “Zenitsu, Zenitsu! Unnie, you’re Zenitsu, I’ve freaking figured it out.”

Confusion colours Seungwan’s face. “Zenits… who?”

“Zenitsu from Demon Slayer.”

“What?”

“That mopey kid.”

“Yerim-ah…” 

“Demon Slayer. Yerimie’s bingeing it right now. Anime on Netflix or something,” Seulgi explains through a mouthful of dumpling, “she won’t shut up about it. God help us there’s a movie out already.”

Curiosity soon has the confused girl peering at her screen, determined to find out what she’s being called. Thank god for YouTube. 

The youngest feels the heat as she watches her unnie’s expression become more and more deadpan with every passing video.

“Yerim. What, exactly, do you see of me in this?” Seungwan threateningly questions, holding up a paused clip of a cartoon boy grovelling at the feet of a pretty girl. She wonders if it’s wrong to want Joohyun to actually have mafia connections now… and if she’d be willing to share them with her for… purposes.

She shrugs defensively. “What? Don’t you think he’s cute?”

"Don't worry Wan, I don't see it either," Seulgi jumps in.

‘Cute’ isn’t quite the term. The blonde nonchalantly brings the chopsticks to her mouth and bites down… onto thin air. Much to the amusement of the two across her. “Hey how’s it going with Sooyoung?” she turns her attention to the girl sitting cross-legged opposite.

Seulgi tuts in reply, dangling a salmon slice in front of her unimpressed roomie. “Stop trying to change the subject, Wan. It’s sooo obvious.” After a pregnant pause, she grins like a kid on Christmas morning, spilling her own adventures with her third of the black velvet trio in one breath. “But thank you for asking because we’re going to the cinema this weekend.”

Yerim chopsticks another tteokbokki onto her plate. “Ooh, what movie?”

“Oh, uh…” Seulgi shrugs, “dunno… I think Sooyoung knows more about what’s good, so I’ll–”

“You’re gonna let her decide, is what I’m hearing,” the maknae scoffs with an eye roll.

Seungwan smiles.

“Simps… simps! Help, someone save me, you guys are everywhere!” Yerim pretends to drown on land and her friends resist the urge to jump her on the spot. 

. . . . .

[11:09 a.m.] The raven-haired senior catches her unsuspecting junior on her way through campus gardens the next morning and pries her for answers. 

. . . . . 

“Why a cat?”

Seungwan’s eyes form joyous crescent moons. “Unnie!”

Suddenly, she has to keep her focus from dwindling into how good they’d both look sitting under the shade of that big old oak tree. 

Somewhere through the cottoned clouds of her daydreams, they’re on one of their many picnics. Doughnuts, corn-dogs, toasted sandwiches and bottled juice litter the peach gingham mat they’re sitting on, and Joohyun offers her a corner of her Gilgeori toast. Of course, she cheekily tries her luck, leaving her with just the corner instead. She yelps when Joohyun gives her a shoulder thwack well deserved. 

Clumsy knees knock together as they laugh themselves silly, the powdered sugar on their lips melting into a sweet river every time she connects them with a kiss. 

Seungwan bites her lip, wringing her mind of those thoughts, trying to play down the elation at hearing her senior’s curiosity. “A cat? I-I don’t know, I just think they’re funny and– kinda cute.” Her voice goes squeaky with excitement. “You liked it? Unnie! You should order more coffees with milk in them. I’ll draw you a bunny next time!” 

Joohyun nods, willing to buy the cafe’s entire stock if it meant she got to see Seungwan beam like a praised puppy, all too eager to learn its next trick.

And she might’ve just marched down there right now to do as she’d said… if they weren’t ten minutes late for their class. Suddenly they’re both panickedly clutching at each other, torn between sprinting like they’re being chased by hyenas, turning up fashionably late, or hopping around and freaking out about the fact that they’re already eleven minutes late, now.

Joohyun’s wrist is grabbed just as she’s about to suggest the fashionably late option. Then she’s hurtling forward, struggling to keep her books from falling whilst poorly protesting the early-morning PE session. But Seungwan is too busy shouting nonsense into the skies about how this is the final chance the lightning gods get to strike her down and charge her up.

Which would’ve been convincing had her voice not cracked on every other word.

As the pair clumsily sprint down the path of pastel flower bushes, the older girl can’t remember the last time she’s laughed this freely. She can barely get the words out but she feels like she’d explode if she didn’t. 

“Seungwan-ah! You’re giving me a six pack!”

And when Seungwan turns back to laugh with her, something in Joohyun’s static heart ignites.

. . . . .

In the diamond, star-dappled sky, Cherub wakes from his silken cloud. Lily-white wings unfurl at the latest calling.

#red velvet #wenrene #wendy #irene #university au #seulgi #joy #yeri #joygi #a budding relationship #i mean friendship

[serendipitee]

Hello Bea 💛 Happy birthday! 🎉 Hope it’s a good one! #27 - Juke for the meet cute prompts?

Thank you and oh my god, this is so late! But it has puppies and ice cream and ‘wicked beauty’ references thrown in there, so I really hope you like it!! 💛🐾

27. You help catch their dog when the leash slips from their hand.

Luke doesn’t even know how he ended up like this.

 Well, it might’ve to do with him being a sucker and unable to say ‘no’ to Reggie. There is also the fact, that his best friend’s two dogs have him wrapped around their little finger (paw? whatever!) and he loves spending time with them.

So, Luke is the best friend of best friends and agreed to take them out, while Reggie goes on a date he’d been gushing about for days.

 He regrets that now. Because he is basically hugging a tree at this point, the two puppies barking excitedly, straining the leashes in two very different directions and Luke hates his life!

In his head, they were gonna go to the park, play around a little, enjoy the sunshine. He’d get some pictures to send to Alex, make him jealous because he decided to go on tour with his skater boyfriend while Luke gets to hang out with to adorable dogs. He definitely got the better end of that deal if you ask him.

 But well, things happened, leashes crossed each other, Finn wanted to go to the lake while Jake most certainly didn’t and Luke got caught in the middle of it.

 And now, Jake’s leash is slipping and Luke is praying, calling out for the pup but it’s for naught. A moment later, the leather connecting them is gone and he starts cursing colorfully.

 Of course, that is the second Finn chooses to calm down again and with an exasperated heave, Luke untangles himself from the tree.

 “Really?” He asks the puppy which is staring up at him with big, dark eyes, cocking his head and letting out a cheeky bark. “Hilarious,” he grumbles, before looking around.

 Jake isn’t the quickest, still learning to use his legs properly but Luke can’t spot him anywhere. Suddenly dread pools in his stomach because he did not just lose his best friend’s new puppy, did he? Reggie is gonna never trust him again. It’ll ruin their friendship.

 Freaking out in earnest now, he starts making his way into the direction Jake originally wanted to go. He just hopes, the pup stuck with it which is a stretch. It’s a puppy. Do they even think?

 “Jake!” Luke calls the name again and again, already dreading the next recording session because, he’ll ruin his voice with the panic interlacing it, but he really doesn’t care right now. “Jake! C’mon here, boy!”

 Finn is following him, tongue lolling out and Luke would stop, take a picture because it is ridiculously cute, but there’s an iron fist around his heart and he really needs to find Jake.

 “Excuse me, have you seen a puppy?” He starts asking random people. “Looks kind of like this one” – queue pointing at the dog by his feet – “but a little darker.”

 All he gets are head shakes until he reaches a young boy with curly dark hair. “Yeah, I saw him over by the food stands.”

 Of course. Jake loves pizza almost as much as Reggie does. He should’ve guessed. Not that he gets it that often. At least, Luke doesn’t think so. Pizza isn’t on a dog’s diet, right?

 “Do you want me to show you?” The kid asks eagerly and Luke is about to nod, when the boy flinches as somebody calls his name.

 “Carlos! ¿Dónde has estado?” A girl storms down the path towards them and Luke’s brain screeches to a halt.

 Even with the crease between her brows and the frown on her lips, she’s beautiful. Wild curls framing her face, a soft orange blouse tucked into a pair of fitting black jeans. She must’ve doodled on them, because he can spot stars and words on the thighs and he knows he’s gaping, there’s just nothing he can do about it.

 “Sorry,” Carlos says quickly, “but he lost his dog and I’m gonna help him find it.”

 “The dog’s right there,” comments the girl drily, raising an eyebrow and eyes flitting between the two of them as if contemplating the possibility of them pulling her leg.

 “The other dog,” Carlos clarifies and Luke nods dumbly.

 He still hasn’t managed to connect his mouth with his brain. Honestly, he’s a little afraid to do so because every thought that’s running rampant in there is some variation of ‘she’s beautiful’.

‘Wicked beauty’ screams the part responsible for making his songs sound award-worthy and isn’t that the truth?

 She turns to him, leveling him with stare, crossing her arms in front of her chest. About to say something, she gets interrupted by the boy again. “Can we help him look? Julie, please?”

 A sigh is followed by a look of softness at the boy and then she nods, all while Luke is internally freaking out about finding out her name.

 “Yeah, sure, Dad’s not picking us up for another half hour.” Julie shrugs and looks at Luke expectantly.

 Oh, right, he’s supposed to say something now, isn’t he? “Uh, thanks- thanks, that’s, uh, your- Carlos said, he saw him by the food stands?”

 Very smooth, Luke, chastens a voice that sounds too much like Alex for his liking.

 They do find Jake right next to the ice cream truck. He doesn’t go down without a fight, though. It takes all three of them to finally grab the leash because apparently, the little guy finally figured out how to use his legs.

 Twice they almost had him, him and Julie reaching for the leash at the same time but every time their fingers touched, they’d both drawn back, the leather slipping away and Jake letting out a triumphant bark.

 It’s Carlos who finally grabs it, pumping his fist in victory and Julie laughs, while Finn jumps up and down, the excitement of hunting after his brother obviously still thrumming through his little body.

 “That was,” Julie starts, “not how I expected to spend my Saturday afternoon.”

 Luke feels bad immediately. They’re both breathing a little heavy, looking a little worse for wear, sweat glistening on their foreheads but Julie still is radiant and he feels the need to apologize. “I’m sorry, that’s- uh, really... sorry.”

 She waves him off, watching Carlos play with the two puppies at their feet. “It’s fine. We could use the laugh.”

 He notices the weight suddenly appearing on her shoulders and it takes everything in him not to overstep and ask outright. Instead, he ducks his head. “Can I repay you somehow?”

 Alex would’ve been proud. That was smooth.

 There’s a small smile on her lips when she looks at him. Luke is sure, that he’ll sit down and write a verse about those damn lips as soon as he gets home. Maybe one about her eyes as well. The thought of ‘wicked beauty’ comes back almost forcefully, knocking a breath from his lungs.

 “Well, we already are at the ice cream truck, so…”

 “Yeah, okay, I can do that.” He stumbles over Finn’s leash, catching himself at the last second and Julie’s chuckling softly. Rubbing the back of his neck, he bites his lips. “I’m Luke, by the way.”

 “Nice to meet you, Luke.” Julie says, eyes sparkling and yeah, yep, definitely gonna write about those, too.

#juke fic #jatp fic #juke #julie x luke #jukebox #this is so very late and I am really sorry!!! #but I feel like I am back #so I'm gonna sit down and finish the other prompts on my list! #THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THE PROMPT AND THE WELL WISHES!!!! #my writing #meet cutes

[eyesfixedonthesun22]

Black Coffee: Part 4

Summary: Coffee aroma surrounds you as you prepare for a long day of studying in your favorite coffee shop. Your focus is shattered by a handsome stranger demanding a very large favor-pretend to be his girlfriend.  Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader Warning(s): Cursing. Innocent fluff. Hints at sexual situations. Word Count: 1,925 Beta Reader: My darling honey bun, @supersoldiersruined-me Notes: I wasn’t planning on making this a series...and yet there are now 5 parts. Which ended up working out perfectly with my Fire Pit scenario prompt for @beckzorz 1K challenge. Thanks Becca for hosting this and congrats on 1K.

The walk to Quay 4 only takes a couple of minutes; one of the pluses about staying at your apartment and not at the tower with Bucky. The occasional jingle of your keys against the glass growler act like windchimes in the early fall breeze. You round the corner of the final block and come face to face with one of your favorite views of the city. The East River is nestled between lush trees. Some of them have started show hints of the color change at their edges but most are vibrant green determined to hold onto the last remnants of summer. The Brooklyn Bridge is in the backdrop, already beginning to fill with morning commuters you note. That last detail has you pick up your pace a bit.

The barista at the coffeeshop greets you by name as you hand over the growler to be filled with cold brew. It should last the two of you your entire trip. You also order some pastries, your regular hot coffee, and Bucky’s black with 15 sugars. The barista doesn’t bat an eye.

“Where is the sugar addict and the pups anyway?”

The two of you clearly came to the shop too often.

“He should be walking back from the dog park now with both of the mutts and packing the last bits into the car.”

“Packing?”

“As celebration for me being done with school we’re headed up to Adirondack State Park. We’re taking both the fluff balls and camping for a week.” You quickly shoot off a text to Bucky telling him your on your way back. You hope the car is packed so you can start the seven hour drive and beat the worst of the traffic. “No work, no school, and maybe no cell service if we’re lucky.”

The barista wishes you a safe trip and hands over the growler. It’s cool to the touch and feels pleasant during the walk back. Despite fall officially arriving next week, the weather in Brooklyn still felt warm. You knew it could very well change further north.

You truly couldn’t believe it was fall already. Truth be told, you hadn’t had much of a summer as it was filled with classes, papers, and final exams to wrap up your graduate degree. Somewhere in the haze and craziness, you and Bucky had passed your one year anniversary.

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

You’d been surrounded by pens and textbooks. Notecards littered the floor in semi-organized piles. Bucky had let you lock yourself in your office all day to study for a particularly challenging exam. It wasn’t until bedtime, you remember, he’d tapped on your office door. Both Ruby and Rufus had assaulted you with kisses and demanded pets from their long lost mother. Being engrossed in the puppy love, you hadn’t realized Bucky had entered and brought in a cupcake with a single candle.

“Happy Anniversary, doll.” He had said with a sleepy but beaming smile. “I know you’re studying, so I don’t want to derail your progress, but I love you. I can’t wait until we can celebrate.”

You’d started sobbing. You weren’t sure if it was the thoughtfulness, the sleep deprivation, or the fact you’d been so stressed you’d forgotten the anniversary all together. Bucky had understood of course. This trip was a delayed anniversary trip of sorts in addition to celebration grad school being completed. The memory was a fond one and you hoped the trip would be the celebration you both deserved.

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

You turn onto your street and are greeted by a stunning view of your boyfriends plump backside. The rest of him is buried, digging around in the back of the jeep no doubt triple checking the camping supplies. Your catcall and whistle startles Bucky and alerts the dogs of your return.

“Hey hot stuff!” You come up and smack his behind. “I got some cold bean juice for you.”

“I love cold bean juice...but don’t tell my girlfriend I prostituted my behind for it.” He pulls you into a quick hug and kiss, lightly squeezing your own bottom.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You stow the coffee in with the rest of your food in the cooler. “I’m certain your girlfriend is too busy wondering if everything is packed and if we still have a chance on beating traffic.”

“Then I would ask why my girlfriend is talking in third person and has travel tendencies like some 55 year old suburban father.” He scoffs; a lopsided smile playing on his lips before he takes a long pull from his coffee. “But yes, everything is packed and ready to go.”

You call the dogs up into the backseat and haul yourself into the passenger side. Bucky slides his mirror aviators off the top of his head and onto his face, queues the road trip playlist you’d both made the night prior, and coaxes the jeeps engine to life.  

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

The drive had gone smooth enough. The polished, hard, grey surfaces of the city had melted and changed into open roads surrounded by multicolored countryside. You found yourself ignoring all the books and things you’d brought to pass the time and embraced staring out the window. It was relaxing to look out at the farmhouses or abandoned buildings and imagine what lives had been lived in them and what the people had been like. Bucky had decided to turn the drive into his own personal concert series and sang each and every song with gusto until his throat started to get sore.

Bucky had insisted you guys chose one the rustic sites far away from the loop of traditional campsites with water and electric (and near the showers you’d noted). Something about “it’s not real camping if you can charge your phone”. After checking in with the ranger and procuring a map, you drove off in the direction of your plot.

You had to hand it to him for choosing a beautiful spot. He’d certainly done his research. The site was heavily wooded along the dirt path leading up to it. It opened up to a medium sized clearing which is more than large enough to park the Jeep and set up camp. On the east side of the clearing was a creek. If you had to guess, it was probably a moderate size tributary by the steady rushing of water sounds against the stone banks but likely no larger than five feet across. On the west side there was a smattering of wild flowers basking in the sunshine. During your admiration of the site, Bucky had already done a loop of observation and chosen the flattest spot on high ground for the tent.

“You just gonna stand and gawk or help me set up camp, darling.” He called to you already having unrolled the tent tarp. “Unless of course your gawking at me…”

He’s smirking into the sunlight. Sadly the sunglasses are blocking his stunning ice blue eyes, but the vibrant smile and his carefree posture are enough to make you sigh. Your boyfriend had been through a lot. Seeing him so carefree never failed to fill your heart.

Setting up camp didn’t take long. Despite Bucky’s joking requests for help, he had a very dictatorial style of camp set up and took over most of the tasks himself. You didn’t mind unfolding one of the lounge chairs and keeping an eye on the dogs exploring their surroundings (and sneaky glances at your slick with sweat boyfriend).

Dusk had settled over the campsite and somehow it was more beautiful than when it had been bathed in sunlight. Bucky had started a large fire in a homemade fire pit hours ago. The fire had finally produced enough coals for you to set up the large cast iron pan on the fire to begin cooking dinner. The smells wafting from the fire were heavenly and stirred your stomach. Bucky ignited the solar powered lanterns you brought with and the plot was bathed in a warm almost candlelight glow. Ruby and Rufus had wiped themselves out with exploring and chasing fireflies. They were both now curled up next to the fire rousing only in hope of some cooking fallout.

You fished the foil wrapped potatoes out of the blazing hot coals, adding two to Bucky’s plate and one on your own. The meat had a perfect crispy outside thanks to the cast iron’s caramelization. You’d made sure to make enough protein and tossed some sweet potatoes in to give the dogs a special dinner tonight. Last thing to go on your plates were the veggie skewers from the grill grate. It was a damn good meal considering you were rusty on your camp cooking skills.

Fully sated, the two of you lounged in the freestanding hammock you’d managed to convince Bucky to bring. The crackling of the fire created a relaxing soundtrack along with the sounds of the forest and the babbling of the stream. The dogs had curled up together on their outdoor bed.

“Darling?” The word is mumbled into the crown of your head while you lay across Bucky’s chest. “I’m so proud of you.”

You were fully ready to brush off the praise like you usually do but the self deprecating joke died in your throat. You found yourself overwhelmed and a tad emotional. You were done. You’d finished your second degree. You lifted your head to meet your boyfriend's eyes.

“Thank you, Buck. Happy late Anniversary.”

He kisses your forehead before his lips meet yours. The kiss is sweet and delicate and filled with love. The fire pit and the flames within it had burnt down to a slow sultry roll. You pull away and brush back a stray lock of hair that had fallen across Bucky’s forehead; the same one that always went rogue.

“So… how far away is the nearest campsite?”

“A couple miles at least. Why?”

“Far enough if someone were to scream or something, no one would hear?”

“Are you planning on murdering me, love?”

“Not exactly.” You gaze into his eyes and see the amber fire reflected in the blue pools. The deep tan of his summer skin is backlight from the light cast from the pit and lanterns. It’s sinful how good he looks right now. You shift your weight in the hammock so his thigh rests between your legs. He still looks puzzled and moderately worried about you turning into an axe murderer. You roll your hips as much as the hammock net permits and plant a kiss to the exposed skin on his neck.

“Ohhhhhh!” The exclamation turns to a low groan as you suck deeply onto his neck. He tries to pull you into a new position for better access-

“What the hell babe!” You plop not so gracefully onto the cool grass. “If you weren’t in the mood you just had to say so.”

He can tell your anger is lighthearted as you’re unable to contain your giggles. In the needy attempt to touch you, Bucky had disrupted the equilibrium of the hammock and tumbled you to the dirt.

“I told you I hate this damn thing!” Bucky attempts to get out himself but stumbles as if to prove his point further. “Tent!” He points at the blue structure and says the word with conviction. You think it’s a command to get the lazy dogs to move but as you scan his body you can see the very clear bulge in his tight shorts. It was safe to assume the relaxation period had come to an end.

#bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #beccas1kwritingchallenge #bucky barnes #bucky #campingAU

[hydemeincradle]

Chasing Cats - Black Army Chaotic fun

Theme: Future London - I wasn’t sure how to do this theme tbh but I had a go at it anyway

Word count: 3783

Notes: This has a bit of Fenrir fluff in it. The MC is Maya who is based on Fenrir route Alice, which is my favourite version :)

This is also up on ao3.

Bang!

“Fenrir!” Luka yelped.

I closed my eyes on instinct, and was a little scared to re-open them, knowing the scene would be bad. When I was brave enough to do so, absolutely everything was coated in white.

“Oops.” Fenrir said with a grin, flour falling from his hair as he laughed.

“Oops? All you have to say is oops?” Luka grabbed the nearest spoon and swung it wildly at Fenrir, who dodged and head for the door.

“What is going on—Ah!” Seth narrowly avoided the two of them barrelling towards him. “Maya what happened?”

Achoo.

The dust cloud of flour was too much for my nose.

“Oh my goodness Maya ♪” he said between fits of giggles. “You aren’t supposed to wear the flour.”

“Fenrir shot the bag,” I said trying to brush down my dress. “I don’t even know why. And now I—What are you laughing at now?” I frowned at Seth.

“You—You’re face, it’s—”

Scowling, I grabbed the remains of the flour bag, hurried over to Seth and threw the contents over him. I smiled as it covered his jacket, though no higher as I was too short to reach.

“Maya,” he grumbled, trying to shake it off. “You’ve been spending too much time with Fenrir. Now look at me, I’m all a mess too!”

I couldn’t help but grin at him, stifling a laugh. “That’s what you get for laughing.”

“Oh you’re such a cheeky Alice ☆” Seth nodded and leant closer, a playful smile sneaking across his face.

“Now get back in here and clean up,” Luka said with the spoon swatting Fenrir’s head. “Or I’ll only cook meals with tomatoes all week.”

“Alright, alright.” Fenrir conceded defeat with a pout. “But I swear I saw a mouse.”

“Eep! There better not be mice in the kitchen!” Seth yelped and glanced warily around the room. “What’s the point of Ray having that furball if we are going to get mice anyway?”

“That’s right,” I said as a thought came to me. We could use Belle’s help. “We should get Belle to find it.”

Still coated, I rushed off out of the kitchen heading to Ray’s room. Belle liked to hang out there, sleeping in his windowsill in the sunshine.

“Wait for me ♪” Seth called. “I’m not staying in there with mice, there could be droppings anywhere and urgh.” He shuddered. “At least that gun maniac has a good reason for shooting up the kitchen.”

As we hurried through the hallways other members of the black army stared at me, I must have been a sight covered from head to toe in flour leaving a faint trail behind me.

“Maya? What are—”

“Sorry Sirius,” I called as we passed him looking bewildered. “I’ll clean it up, I promise.”

“Wait Maya—”

“Ah!”

Crash.

I ran straight into someone, nearly toppled over before being caught by a pair of strong hands.

“Woah, watch out.”

“Ah, Ray!” I said stepping back, acting as if nothing had happened. “Have you seen Belle?”

“Belle?” Ray frowned as he looked down at his now flour coated uniform.

“We need him to catch a mouse,” Seth added.

“Mouse?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “We need Belle to find and catch the mouse in the kitchen, or Luka won’t be able to continue cooking our late night dessert.”

“I don’t know,” Ray said, concentrating on wiping the flour off. “I haven’t seen him in a while. He’s not in my room, he didn’t come for his night time meal. I was getting a little worried.”

“He’s missing?” I frowned, hoping that he hadn’t gotten himself into trouble. Belle liked to wander around, but he always came back for food, and loved to laze around in funny places. It was evening now, around the time where he would come begging for food, and yet all was quiet. I wasn’t sure how we could find him—oh! I knew. “We need some help!”

I turned around and head back down the hall towards Fenrir’s room and cracked the door open.

“Shu Shu ♪” A fuzzy brown and white blur rushed out to greet me, jumping at my legs and yipping happily. “Who’s a good Shu Shu? You are?” I bent down to stroke him as best as I could with him running around. “Can you find Belle for us? You love finding and chasing him.”

He looked up with twinkling eyes, and after giving an affirmative woof, he was off bounding down the hall at top speeds.

“Oh no, was that really such a good idea?” Seth asked watching Shu Shu disappear. “What if he goes in the kitchen and spreads the mess further?”

“Then, that’s a problem for later,” I said with a giggle. “Right now we need to find Belle to catch this mouse, and then Luka can cook something tasty.”

“So you set a dog to find a cat to catch a mouse. Oh dearie Maya, now you are sounding just like Fenrir! I don’t think I can deal with two of Fenrir, one is certainly enough.”

“Calm down Seth,” Ray said with a shrug. “Her plan might work.”

“Wow, such faith in our Alice, Ray ☆”

“Do you want Belle back or not?” I huffed and jammed my hands on my hips. “I don’t see you looking for him.”

“He comes back eventually.” Ray shrugged. “I don’t usually get too worried.”

“But what if he was attacked?” I said as Ray’s eyes widened. “What if Chutney decided to play with him and now he has ran off and hidden and can’t get out? Or he could be off in the Central Quarter again trying to boss around the other cats.”

“Maya is right.” Seth nodded. “Chutney has been a bit restless recently, I had to cut training short just yesterday because she was trying to join in. I still have awful scratches! I’m still worried I’ll scar! My pretty skin can’t scar!”

“You’re right,” Ray said turning serious. “This is important. I will head out to the Central Quarter, in case he is out there.”

“Oh wait for me, I need to change my dress one moment.”

Before Ray could respond I rushed further down to my room, pulling a dress from my closet. I smiled as I stepped into it and zipped it tight, this dress was one of my favourites as Fenrir had bought it for me; a simple black bodice with a long green skirt with butterflies. As I opened my door, Fenrir looked up and smiled.

“Hey Maya,” He called with a sad looking Shu Shu in his arms. “Lookin’ good.”

I grinned. “Thank you. Oh, did Shu Shu not find Belle?”

“No,  I’m going to take him back. I don’t know what you said to Ray but he’s searching for Belle frantically now, I half expect him to jump on his horse and go to the Central Quarter without you. You best hurry after him, I’ll be right there.”

Nodding, I turned around and chased after Ray and Seth. I tried not to giggle as I realised it was becoming such a mission.

I slowed to catch my breath as I scrambled back down the stairs. The hallways were filling where people were gathering with their drinks. Tonight we were supposed to be celebrating, and I was helping Luka make pies for our dessert. Well, until Fenrir shot up the flour bags.  

“Excuse me please,” I called, weaving in between the people. Sirius stood around trying to get them into an orderly queue, a deep frown set on his face.

“Maya? What’s going on? Why is everyone running around? I-Hey!” He turned to the queue building up. “Wait. No pushing. You all need to be more patient, Luka hasn’t been able to cook tonight.”

“Sorry Sirius!” I stopped to give him a little wave. “I’m on a mission. Good luck!”

“Yes,” Fenrir said, half out of breath. “Leave it to us, you’re too busy and old for this anyway.”

“Too old?! How many times—”

“Fenrir! Quick,” I grabbed his hand and pulled him along with a giggle. “Before you get hit again.”

“Ah, but I am too quick for him, even with his ridiculously long legs.” Fenrir grinned and tightened his hold on my hand. “He thinks he can catch me, but I know better.”

Together we exited out onto the courtyard where Seth stood next to a carriage, arms crossed.

“Oh there you two are. You both spent all that time and yet still have flour all in your hair. Ray got too impatient and went on ahead, so I called for a carriage. I can’t believe we are going to all this trouble just for a cat.”

“You didn’t have to come along too,” Fenrir said as we climbed up into the carriage.

“And miss all this fun with Maya? No way ☆”

Seth hopped onboard after us and the carriage settled into a fast pace, I glanced out of the window watching as the lights whizzed past. It was fun exploring at night, everything lit up and twinkling. Despite it growing late, I found myself full of energy. Of course I couldn’t sleep until I had some of Luka’s sweet treats.

As we turned around a corner I gasped as the moon came into view, bright and full. It brought back painful memories which had led up to the peace we now had; instinctively I gripped Fenrir’s hand tighter, remembering how awful it had been chased and hunted. However every step had been with Fenrir, keeping me safe as I fought beside him. We’d both watched over each other. Fenrir leant over and peeked out of the window, his hair tickling against my cheek.

“What are you looking at? Oh.” Fenrir turned his gaze to me. “Don’t mind that thing, you aren’t going anywhere now.” Letting go of my hand, he reached up and pulled me close so I could rest my head against his chest. I smiled as I felt him press a kiss to my forehead and wrapped my arms around him.

“Excuse me, I am sitting right here,” Seth exclaimed. “Or did you forget about me. You did, didn’t you! I can’t believe it!”

“Of course not Seth,” I said facing him. “How could I forget about you?”

“You’re too kind Alice ☆”

“It’s hard to forget you when you are so loud.”

Fenrir burst out into laughter, the sound plastering a smile on my face. I loved his laugh. “She’s right.”

“You two are so rude.” Seth looked away with a pout.

I stifled my own laughter, but Fenrir continued chuckling. “I’m sorry Seth, I couldn’t help it.”

“And so you should be,” he said nodding. “But I can’t stay mad at such a pretty face, all is forgiven ♪” Seth peered out of the opposite window and smiled. “We are here now. Time to find wherever Ray went. I hope he put the horse somewhere safe rather than leaving it to roam again.”

The three of us climbed out of the carriage and head towards the alley where all the cats like to hang around. The dim streets sent a shiver down my spine, I knew I was safe with both Fenrir and Seth, but something set me on edge. These were the same streets where the disciples of the magic tower had cornered us, and it was hard not to imagine them still being there ready to jump out at any moment. As we carried on, street cats came into view laying around in boxes with dishes of food sprawled around. And there in the middle of the group was Ray, sat with three cats laying all over him.

“You didn’t find Belle then?” Fenrir asked.

Ray sat up straight, trying to pretend he wasn’t cuddling other cats. “Not yet.”

I bent down to stroke a tabby cat who purred away at my touch, I’d seen her a few times and always looked for her every time I came out this far.

“Did you even properly look or did you get distracted again?” I heard Fenrir say. “Are you even listening now or are you too busy with the cats?”

“The cats have captured both our king and Maya!” Seth cried. “What do we do Fenrir?!”

“Calm down, don’t be silly. This always happens.” Fenrir sighed. “The trick is to distract them with something else.”

Kneeling down to rest my feet I reached over to another cat, one with white tufts and ginger stripes, he was also my friend.

“Maya,” Fenrir said ruffling my hair, “come on, we are finding Belle, not playing with cats.”

“Just a moment longer, oh look, here is the black one with a bad paw. I hope he is feeling better now.”

“Maya—”

“And here is my friend with no tail, he is doing well now. I’m glad it didn’t get infected, I did worry.”

I continued to pet them all, loving as they brushed against me with happy miaows.

“Maya?”

“Oh look it’s totally working ☆”

“Shut up Seth.”

Crawling from the shadows came another set of pink ears, followed by a hood and a bright smile. “Do you want to pet me too Maya?”

I jumped as I realised it was Loki as he sat up. “L-Loki?”

He lowered his hood and smiled. “Don’t make me jealous, pet me too! I don’t mind.”

“That’s enough!” Seth exclaimed and stood in front of me. “Stop pestering our precious Alice.”

“Aww.” Loki frowned. “You’re no fun.”

“Maybe you can help us instead? We are trying to find Belle.”

Loki peered around Seth’s legs and smiled at me. “Belle has just gone to his favourite shop, I helped him like I do every time. He’ll be back later.”

“Wait a second, Belle has a favourite shop?” Ray said, still snuggling into a handful of cats.

“Oh yes.” Loki nodded. “He goes to the Land of Reason.”

“What?! You let my cat go to the Land of Reason?!” Ray jumped up and cats flew everywhere. “Why would you let him do something so dangerous?”

“It can’t be that dangerous, Maya has done it.”

“I’m going to check the garden.” Ray said before running off.

“Wait Ray—” Fenrir called, following after.

“Come on Maya, or we’ll be left behind ♪”

“Ok Seth.” I stood, brushed down my dress and leant over to tap Loki on the nose. “Bad kitty letting Belle go somewhere dangerous.” He frowned and looked sad so I reached up and pet his head gently. “But thank you for telling us where Belle went.”

With a bright grin Loki grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it. “Please don’t follow him there, stay here in Cradle, stay here and play with me and the cats.”

“Sorry Loki, not tonight, it’s important that we find Belle first. But I promise I’ll come back another night.”

“You better,” Loki sulked.

“Of course I will, I don’t break my promises!” I said and pet his head once more to make him smile again. He grinned and I waved goodbye.

I hurried on once again in the direction of the garden, trying to remember where it was. The dim streets were mostly empty and I couldn’t see anyone. I could feel a slight panic rising, my hands clenched as I glanced around quick.

“Alice—”

“Ah!” I jumped as a figure appeared from the darkness.

“Oh sweetie.” Seth laughed. “It’s just me, I was waiting for you. You shouldn’t spoil that naughty cat so much, you’ll give him bad ideas.”  

I tried to calm myself down as we carried on down the alley towards the Civic Center, my feet tapping the ground in time with Seth’s. Every step churned the knot forming in my stomach as the memories came crashing back to me. It was hard to steel myself when the full moon hung in the sky so beautifully. The same one which had taken me from Cradle before. The tapping of shoes moved out of sync as I began to slow. Could I go back there again so soon?

Warm fingers twined with mine lending me comfort and strength. I glanced up at Seth who gave me a gentle smile.

“You don’t need to be scared Maya, I know you don’t like the garden, so we can wait here if you’d prefer.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, holding his hand tighter. “But I should—I need to go. I was the one to start looking for Belle.”

“If you are sure.”

I smiled at Seth and kept hold of his hand as we approached the Civic Center and head up the stairs to the garden. It was just as pretty as I remembered, the moonlight brushing against the leaves and flowers illuminating the blossoms. Fenrir and Ray stood talking, Ray holding a familiar coloured ribbon – Belle’s.

My hand chilled as Seth’s fingers slipped from mine. “You aren’t really going in there are you?” he asked.

“I need to make sure Belle is safe,” Ray said serious. “And it might be a bit of fun. What do you think Maya? Want to show us your old home?”

My old home. Those words sent a surge of happiness through me, Cradle was my home now, and I wouldn’t change it. I’d never been happier here with the black army, finally finding somewhere I felt like I belonged. I turned my attention to Fenrir, who stared at me with an intense look that flushed my cheeks. I knew exactly what sort of thing he was thinking and I had to look at Ray to stop my mind wandering too much, trying to ignore the memories of the words Fenrir had said. You belong here in Cradle, with me. And I am not letting you go, ever.

“Um...” I started, still feeling Fenrir’s eyes on me. “I’m not sure how safe it’d be.”

“And it’d be bad if we were stuck there, whatever would the black army do without its most prettiest member?” Seth added. “Although I think Sirius would appreciate the peace and quiet ☆”

“We’ll be fine,” Fenrir said with confidence. “And back quick enough so we don’t get stuck. Belle shouldn’t be that hard to find.”

I nodded, stepping forwards before my legs buckled beneath me with nerves. “You’ll have to hold on to me, or it won’t work.”

Hands reached out grabbing on to my arms and together we all moved forwards jumping into the hole. Fenrir held on tight and I couldn’t help but smile at him, reassured by his touch. All too soon I felt grass beneath my knees as I landed, the knot in my stomach loosening slightly. We’d made it this far at least. I was just worried we wouldn’t make it back…

“He must be here,” Ray said after a moment. “Here’s his bell. How did he even learn to come here and how? Maybe the ribbon...”

“Woah, this is so weird.” I glanced up to see Fenrir staring wide eyed.

“And to think that we’d ever see the place that our dear Alice comes from.”

I frowned and took a look around, as unusual smells hit my nose. Something didn’t smell right, it cloyed in the air and stuck to my throat. Loud noises thrummed from all angles and bright lights lit up the sky.

“This isn’t right,” I squeaked. “This is not my London.”

“What?” Fenrir frowned and turned to me. “What do you mean? How can we be anywhere else? Did things change here while you were away?”

“I mean, this looks like the same park,” I said hesitantly. “But I don’t recognise much else.”

Seth’s eyes widened. “Oh no are we going to be stuck here?!”

“Calm down Seth,” Ray said trying not to panic, but failing.

“But what if—”

“Miaow.”

Wait…

“Miaow.”

A familiar grey fuzzball nudged my leg. “Belle! Here you are.”

“Loki was right, who would have thought.” Ray bent down and scooped up Belle.

“Oh look,” I said noticing he had left a little bag on the floor. I smiled as I realised what they were. “He came all this way for cat treats.”

“Of course it had to be your cat to do something so reckless,” Seth said stroking Belle’s head. “I want to know how he found out about it in the first place. I bet it was that naughty Loki, he has a lot to answer for.”

Fenrir had wandered over to a nearby sign and called to me, “Maya, what did you say the park you fell from was called?”

“St. James’s.”

“Then we are in the right place,” he said with a frown. “This sign says St. James’s Park.”

“But how can that be—”

“Maybe we should just go back now,” Ray said. “This doesn’t seem right, especially if you are saying this isn’t your London.”

In my confusion I hadn’t noticed the amazing smell which had been wafting in our direction, snuffing the cloying smoke. I couldn’t mistaken it for anything else, it was the wonderful smell of chocolate. Back in my London the place I worked was only around the corner, and I wondered if it existed in this strange London. My stomach growled in excitement for some sweet treats.

“Uhh—”

Seth grinned. “Are you hungry Maya? I am more than ready for some of Luka’s amazing food too, especially now we have Belle to catch that awful mouse. I can’t believe we have had to do all this just for a mouse.”

“Hey,” Fenrir called, “I’ll be right back.”

“Fenrir—” I tried to stop him but he’d already run off.

“Where is he going now?” Ray frowned but didn’t say anything, opting instead to bury his face in Belle’s fur.

“I don’t know… Woah!” Fenrir rushed back as quick as he had left, his hands holding tight onto a box. “What’s that?” As he approached I recognised the logo design on the box, it was the same as… as…

“So they were giving out some free chocolates and I thought you might wanna try them.”

“They are so pretty,” Seth cooed, “and look so delicate. I wish we had these in Cradle.”

“I know how to make them,” I said with a smile. “That design on the box, it was the same as where I used to work, I made chocolates just like these.”

“Let’s go home and show Luka, I’ll bet he will want some too.”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “Let’s go back home.”

And before the moon started to wane again, we jumped back into the hole and returned to my beloved home of Cradle.

#ikemen revolution #ikerev #ikerev fanfic #Black Army #Seth #Fenrir #Ray #Luka #Sirius #Loki

[passionate-baker]

Four Days in Amsterdam, Holland

There’s something magical about Amsterdam. This was my second visit to the Dutch capital, and still I have trouble explaining to people what is so captivating about the place. For example, I can never quite get across how genuinely crooked all of the buildings are - crooked doors/windows/walls/steps all going in a different direction to each other, but yet all fitting together so perfectly. It genuinely boggles my mind, & no picture on earth can accurately capture the imperfect perfectness of it all. I love the attitude of the city, it’s relaxed and easy going, but everything still runs smoothly & efficiently. I love the wonky gingerbread houses lining the canals, a classic car or two parked nonchalantly outside. Wandering along the canals almost transports you to another time; it feels otherworldly and special. Somehow, I even grew to enjoy the thrill of nearly being mowed down by any number of the bloodthirsty cyclists at every corner. 

I visited the city with one of my best friends & we dedicated our time to walking along the canals and eating as much as humanly possible. Below is a lengthy list of recommendations and a whole bundle of photographs from our time in the city. Enjoy!

Stay

Hotel Mozart // our cute hotel was so perfect for us. We opted for the “romantic canal view room”, which was a weensy bit more expensive than the other rooms, but totally worth it. At night we could look out our window to see the glistening canal & a super cute classic car parked across the way that we affectionately named Louis. The hotel is literally a five minute walk away from the Rijksmuseum - aka, within walking distance of almost everywhere you’ll want to go - so we were pretty dang happy with the location. Added bonus: it’s nestled in along Prinsengracht, which is one of the prettiest canal/streets in the whole city. 

Eat - Brunch / Lunch / Sancks

Gartine // let’s just take a step back for a second while I admit two things: eggs benedict is my weakness & french toast is my friend’s weakness. We are powerless creatures of menu habit & that didn’t change while we were in Amsterdam. Gartine was my first eggs benedict of the trip, & it was also the worst. That said, my friend had one of the best french toast experiences of her whole life - if I remember correctly, it was a little blueberry number that stole her heart - so I guess I ordered wrong. The whole cafe has just a handful of tables & is effortlessly gorgeous, so be prepared to wait a little. Think mismatching cups & saucers, hipster-chic waiters, cups of mint tea filled with real life stalks of mint, & an extremely lovely barista. Added bonus: there was the most beautiful flower installation draped across a stormy grey statement wall. 

Bakers & Roasters // B&R was my most favourite brunching experience of our whole trip. We loved it so much we actually went back to squeeze in a quick meal before catching our flight home. No surprises about what we ordered: classic eggs benny for me, banana nut bread french toast for her. Friends, we died & went to brunch heaven. The portions are massive, and thank goodness for that because the food is amazing. The bacon was crispy & delicious, the hot buttered sourdough was so thick & fluffy I nearly cried, the poached eggs were perfect, & the coffee was so good I had two before my food even arrived. We were lucky when we visited in that we didn’t have to queue, but by the time we were leaving there was a long line snaking down the street. Pro tip: if eggs benny ain’t your thing, I can also vouch for the ‘Navajo eggs’ - a pulled pork, poached eggs, avo, salsa + toast number - that I opted for on our return & literally filled me to the brim until we touched down in Dublin nearly 10 hours later. 

Dignita // we decided to hit up the Dignita at Hoftuin (they also have a location at Vondelpark) which is inside the garden of the Hermitage Museum & is absolutely stunning - head-to-toe windows, crawler plants hanging from the ceiling, glorious sunshine filling the whole room. We loved it immediately. I have to say, the eggs benedict I had at Dignita might just about steal the crown for The Best Eggs Benedict in Amsterdam. Not only were the eggs & bacon perfect, but they were served on the most crispy - yet tender & luscious - generous pillows of hash browns. I ate every single morsel of food on my plate, not a crumb survived. It was perfection. After the success of our meal we opted for some extra coffees &  a brownie between us - cream cheese & raspberry, no less - and we nearly ended up in a food coma. A happy, happy food coma. Added bonus: their profits go towards helping victims of human trafficking. How awesome is that?

Foodhallen // as the map told us we were getting closer to Foodhallen, it appeared as though we were walking out of the city & into a more residential area. Then, suddenly, we turned a corner & there it was: a massive indoor market, one section of which is dedicated to food + drink. We walked there shortly after brunch one morning & had chatted about just getting a snack or two, but after a quick walk around the stalls that idea went hurtling out the window. We secured ourselves a table at the communal seating area, picked up two glasses of cheap wine from the bar, & ordered a sharing board from a Spanish stall called Jabugo. We sat there for the guts of an hour, relaxing, drinking, eating meat & cheese, people watching, living our best lives. Pro tip: I’ve also heard wondrous things about the burgers at The Butcher, but I’ll have to save that for my next trip. Added bonus: there’s a fabulous atmosphere in the market (it reminded me of the Time Out Market in Lisbon), that feels so good you could sit there for hours snacking and watching the world go by. 

Eat - Dinner

Hap-Hmm // walking to Hap-Hmm along a pitch black street with no lights was more than a little terrifying, but thankfully entirely worth it. A traditional Dutch restaurant serving the kinds of food I imagine Dutch grandmothers make, Hap-Hmm has been open for over 60 years. We queued for 40 minutes to get a nice little table right in the centre of everything, & the smells wafting past us as we waited had our tummies seriously grumbling. The menu was small but good - I opted for the wiener schnitzel & my pal went for the house specialty: a beef stew. Both mains were melt-in-the-mouth good (especially the stew) & came with large sides of potatoes + miscellaneous veggies. A couple of beers later, we were totally satisfied & much less terrified walking home along the pitch black street.

Los Feliz // owned by the crowd behind Bakers & Roasters, this is the Mexican restaurant of my dreams. As we perused the menu, I treated myself to a good old fashioned margarita & we let our inner beasts run wild when ordering. Friends, we feasted. We can, without any reservations at all, vouch for most of the menu: guac + chips, a whole host of different tostadas + carnitas, & the chipotle aioli fries. We couldn’t decide which tostada stole the show (a tie between the tinga de pollo & the carne asada), but really everything was so goddamn delicious & flavoursome that it was much of a muchness. After the roaring success of our meal, we simply couldn’t leave without trying a dessert (& another margarita, just in case). We went for the tres leches cake, which neither of us had ever tried before, but which we devoured within seconds. From beginning to end, it was glorious. 

Thrill Grill // TG is a burger place. At the time I rather enjoyed my burger - & my pal really enjoyed her hot dog - but thinking back on the experience as a whole, there wasn’t really anything fantastic about the place. Not necessarily a bad restaurant, there was just nothing about the place that would make me go back. 

Drink - Alcohol

Cafe George // we stumbled across Cafe George completely by accident one day & it ended up being one of our favourite stops. It’s a kind of hipster-chic place with an American/French bistro vibe going on. There are marble tabletops, mirrors lining the wall, cute candles lit regardless of the time, & a solid snack list (definitely try the traditional ‘bitterballen’). We stopped by more than once to enjoy a couple glasses of wine in the shade. 

Wijnbar Boelen // we decided to treat ourselves to a fancy glass of wine before dinner one night & this was the perfect spot. I opted for a big glass of Valpolicella, which was so delicious that I treated myself to a second. 

Drink - Coffee

Scandinavian Embassy // I somehow discovered online that Scandinavian Embassy have the best cinnamon rolls in the city (obviously something I investigate before going anywhere). It’s a very cool, very chic place, with the very alluring smell of cinnamon wafting out the front door. SE are also real deal kind of serious about their coffee. We sat right at the bar so we could watch the barista work his magic & we pretty much sat there openly gawping at him the whole time we were there. The cinnamon roll was amazing, but it was the coffee that stole the show. A lot of care & attention went into making every single cup, & you could definitely taste it in the end result. 

Lott Sixty One Coffee // we actually have an Instagram pal to thank for leading us here - @sandy.somewhere, thank you for your tip about the attractive Thor-type baristas, we are eternally grateful. Attractiveness aside, the baristas seemed to be really know what they were doing - the coffee was amazingly smooth. Cute boys + delicious coffee = match made in heaven. 

Do

Canal Cruise // I feel like this is a must in Amsterdam, you just gotta do one. We went with a company called Lovers, but I think they’re all basically the same. The tour lasts an hour & brings you down all the main canal routes, with an informative little electric tour guide narrating your trip. Our boat driver threw out a few tid-bits of information every so often: did you know that the canals in Amsterdam are 3-metres deep? He reckons they’re actually only 2-metres of water & 1-metre of ill fated bicycles, of which they pull over 12,000 from the canals every year. Mad.

Rijksmuseum // another Amsterdam must. I headed straight for the Van Gogh self-portrait & stood there taking in every single brushstroke for a good 20-minutes while waiting for my pal to catch up. It is exquisite. The museum also holds an extensive Rembrandt collection on the top floor, including his massive painting “The Night Watch”, which is definitely worth a visit. Pro tip: don’t miss a trip to the library inside the museum - it's a three storey room filled entirely with books about art history & is extremely pleasing to behold.

Moco Museum // skeptical as I was about visiting Moco, I thoroughly enjoyed our time in the museum. Perhaps that’s because it’s much less museum-ey than the Rijksmuseum etc, it is more just a collection of art. The museum houses contemporary works of art - we saw a Banksy & a Roy Lichtenstein exhibition - in a seemingly random layout. Added bonus: in the basement of the museum there was a 3D interior room installation of Lichtenstein’s painting “Bedroom at Arles” - it was literally like we stepped into the artwork; we were amazed.

I Amsterdam Sign // just one of those stupid/half fun things that you have to do when you’re in Amsterdam. If you’re one of the unlucky few whose name begins with any of the ‘iamsterdam’ letters, then you get to try climb up on top of said letter for that cliche tourist shot. Let’s just hope that you don’t slip or embarrass yourself on the way up, because there are a heck of a lot of people waiting for their chance to climb aboard. Thankfully, there’s no hidden ‘V’ in ‘iamsterdam’, so I’ve been spared the public humiliation thus far.

Vondelpark // I imagine Vondelpark would be a lovely place for a summer picnic or a stroll, but you must remember that we were there during the winter/spring. If I’m being completely honest with you, it was so bloody freezing when we got there that we briskly walked 10 paces in, glanced around, & briskly walked right back out again. Only when we were safely inside a warm coffee shop 10-minutes later did we decide that yes, it was indeed a pretty park.

Classic car hunting // Amsterdam is full of quirky old cars - they’re impossible not to come across. Go for a wander along the canals & see if you can stumble across that insta-perfect shot. I dragged my poor friend halfway across the city to go back & take a picture of a classic car I’d spotted while we were on our canal tour. The things you do for Instagram!

.

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#amsterdam #travel #holland #the netherlands

[cureforbedbugs]

Dance with Somebody

I wanna dance

My son started dancing a few months ago. He's neither coordinated nor athletic, so his dancing alternates between impressionistic arm waving and a spin move in which he hurtles his body into space and trusts it will not land on a sharp corner. (So far so good.)

We "danced" with him prior to him wanting to dance, but most of this was performative, and often included him as a less-than-willing participant. To be honest, it was mostly an excuse to try out our own music on him. What was clear enough then, and is really obvious now, is that taste doesn't follow the "hypodermic needle" theory of media effects even from birth. We are one influence, a powerful one, among many, including the idiosyncratic workings of our little guy's independent mind.

And so he dances, alone, in a kind of distant reverie. We go to his preschool to find him separated from the other kids, dancing on his own. Sometimes he snaps to when he sees that we've arrived. Sometimes he just keeps going.

And he dances with us now, but even at home it's still alone. He wants to dance. He doesn't really need us; when he wants to dance with us, it's for us to see him dance and, sometimes, to see us dance, too. And so we dance like he dances. Poorly, but privately, but together. It's the way I dance when I'm dancing alone, and the way I danced when I was a kid, too. There's an old home video of me, probably around age 4 or 5, dancing in my room with a ski mask on. The movements and twitches and peculiar isolated euphoria are uncannily like my son's. I end with an ostentatious spin move, too, hurling myself onto the floor before announcing that I'm too tired to continue. (It sounds like I was listening to the jazz station.)

My son: "Daddy, do you want to see my special dance move? It's like this..."

Right now, the song that makes him dance the most -- and also think about and talk about music the most, music as a form that can be cherished and picked apart -- is "I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)" by Whitney Houston, a song we never introduced him to, but now listen to constantly.

This is a song that he loves to dance to, and that he also identifies as a dance song. That's an important distinction in his budding world of categorization. Right now his tastes have split into three interrelated playlist-cum-genres (or is it vice versa?): Dance Songs, Rock 'n' Roll Songs, and Crazy Animals. After he was born, we started an omnibus playlist to play during the times we stuck him on the floor and didn't want to ignore him. (His brother is a bit less lucky in this regard, though he's mostly focused on the older kid.) That bloated playlist, now as useless as it is unnavigable, is a hodgepodge of pop, dance, novelty, and old-timey rock 'n' roll. And just about none of it appears on any of his new playlists.

Rock 'n' Roll involves big guitars, big hooks, big hair. He loves "Back in Black" by AC/DC -- sonically at first (I played it for him in the car on the rare time he asked me to play something he didn't know), but later it was cemented as a playlist staple because it's about a Bad Guy, a character type with which he is, if not obsessed, then at least intensely curious. His favorite bad guys, in no particular order, are Darth Vader, Jack Skellington, and Rasputin. I always try to make sure that he knows that "bad guys" are complicated, and they're usually not all bad (my insistence that Jack Skellington is not in fact a bad guy at all is belied by the fact that Jack Skellington intentionally scares the bejeezus out of children for fun).

The protagonist in Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song" is more ambiguous. He comes from a land of ice and snow, which is a graspable detail, and then...a bunch of other words. To be honest, those are the only words I can remember myself. That's the point where my son asks me to start it over -- DUN duh-duh DUH-dun, DUN duh-duh DUH-dun, aaaaaaaaaah!

His favorite rock 'n' roll song has a title complicated enough that he just calls it "my favorite," even though it is one of ten or so songs that he likes about equally. He calls it "my favorite" because it's his best friend's favorite, and it's not at all clear why it's her favorite. So it's also unclear whether or not "favorite song" denotes an actual favorite, or is just a generic description, like "rock 'n' roll" or "crazy animal."

That song, "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" by the Darkness, is the first time his tastes have intersected with mine and my wife's completely serendipitously. We would never even have thought to play him the Darkness. He loves it when he says "hunh!" before the first guitar solo, and especially loves it when he says "gui-TAR!" before the second guitar solo.

Crazy Animals and Dance Songs are a bit more self-explanatory. Crazy Animal songs are songs that (1) feature animal references or animal noises and (2) make my son very happy. Crazy Frog, which I hadn't thought to include in my son's novelty diet when he was very young, made an unexpected appearance about a week ago -- the Verizon music network has it in its most popular video queue along with things that came out mere weeks ago, which makes it a novelty evergreen like Hampton the Hamster on Radio Disney -- and now it (Crazy Frog) is the center of his Crazy Animal universe. (That means I finally got the chance to introduce Wang Rong, three years later. He likes it considerably less than Crazy Frog. When I suggested L'Trimm's "He's a Mutt" for a Crazy Dog, he stopped me and told me to just add "Who Let the Dogs Out.") This sort of list is the kind of thing I was born to curate, though it only holds his attention for a few minutes at a time, as it probably should.

Dance Songs need to refer to dancing fairly explicitly, though "Can't Stop the Feeling" by Justin Timberlake counts. (He calls the song "Sunishine in My Pocket," which is how I learned that my son doesn't really care for, and certainly won't dance to, "Pocketful of Sunshine" by Natasha Bedingfield.) All songs currently on the Dance Songs playlist are songs I didn't introduce to him -- including "Just Dance" by Lady Gaga, and, of course, "I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)" by Whitney Houston. The latter is the clear favorite, and it's a pleasure to watch my son dig in to the minutiae of its sounds and its tricks (the anticipatory drums into the chorus -- "buh-buh-buh-buh!"; the commanding "DANCE!" punctuation from a male background chorus; "somebody, hoooooo!"), discovering something new with each listen -- so much so, in fact, that he talks about what might happen "next time" he listens, as though the song itself will change, and not just his understanding of it, which feels very deeply right in the way that children's understandings of things so often can.

With somebody

When I listened to "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" as a kid, usually on my sister's Pocket Rocker cassette player in her room, I always imagined the main character in it -- the "dancer" -- as a bit like my son now, or me in that ski mask -- self-contained energy, satisfied dancing alone. The video isolates Houston against a plain backdrop that matches her purple dress, garishly backlit, as though everything has melted away from her and now she's starting to burn through the screen itself. Whitney Houston was like that, a narrow spotlight against an abyss, all on her, all on the voice. (My son: "Daddy, she has a very powerful voice.") Sure, she wants to dance with somebody, but she doesn't sound like she needs to. Who could keep up with her?

My son seems to have that interpretation, too. When he sings it to himself, he'll start to interpolate a bit: "I want you to dance with somebody." It's the overriding impression, no matter what the lyric sheet says, and who parses the verses? Her singing this song in this way just proves that she has -- is -- everything already. So YOU find somebody, even if the somebody is just yourself, and dance with them. Which is to say: DANCE.

But now I detect an undercurrent of quiet distress -- hey, this energy is pulling everyone toward me, but they're not with me. (And what good is that?) And that just sits there, a little echo of an idea -- an idea that's there pretty obviously on the page, in the lyrics, but not so obviously in the song itself -- it's just all of this potential sadness running through everything, an aside, maybe an anxious whisper throughout the song that you wouldn't even notice unless you really looked for it. Maybe you're just hearing things.

My son wonders who it is with that low voice that's chanting "DANCE" toward the end. He loves that part.

"Who is that?" More laughter.

I hear a bit of menace in that bit when I listen to it without dancing to it -- insert the intertitle here, sans danse, quelle tristesse! -- it's an oddly direct command in a song whose every other element compels dancing without needing to bark an order -- and this odd overcompensation happening after the song has long since hit its groove and we've long since decided to dance.

But no, it's goofy! Enough so that we do a low, grumbly impression together -- "DANCE" -- and we laugh -- what is that! -- almost as much as "somebody...hooooooo!"

The sadness hit me as I was sitting in the basement of my in-laws' house, the song playing from a tinny iPhone speaker, my son thrashing against the couch, and I just heard for a moment -- "loneliness calls." It was an emotional ambush, in Mark Sinker's phrasing, of the sort that I've come to savor. The singalong is "when the night falls, my lonely heart calls" -- and something about that phrasing, "my lonely heart," makes the loneliness a bit more affected. She's a member of a lonely hearts club, a reference that to this day feels weirdly alien to me, maybe just generationally. (I always thought "Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" was intentional word salad -- which to be fair it was, but it scans as a real possible club, not just a string of disconnected words.)

But the first line, at the end of the first verse, is more blunt than that. "Loneliness calls." Something about that phrase struck me in that moment, not least because "loneliness calls" might be the general unspoken -- well, occasionally spoken -- thesis, or maybe heart, of a lot of music my students listen to -- a big, sad idea that I imagine like a spreading gray funk over the chart landscape that has literally slowed pop music to a crawl. "I can hear the perkys calling." "All my friends are dead." Loneliness calls.

I haven't been lonely in a long time. When it was just me and my wife, loneliness still called, even if I didn't have a lonely heart. I remembered what being lonely was like, sometimes even when my wife was there with me. I could feel the loneliness, even if abstractly I understood that I wasn't alone.

I don't really feel loneliness now that I have young kids. I'm not saying that as some transformative development that's improved my life in a meaningful way. Having kids had no effect on my anxiety or panic, for instance, and had no effect on my sense of my own personal or professional aspirations, even if it accelerated a kind of limning process that was underway before I had kids. It's a more neutral observation: of the many emotions that I've felt after having kids, sometimes with an intensity that I haven't felt since childhood, if at all -- manic joy, gut-wrenching sadness -- loneliness just hasn't reared its head. That's a double-edged sword; I also like being alone, and I haven't been alone in three years.

So it moved me, I guess, listening there in the basement, to discover for the first time that this person really does sound lonely. Here she is, orchestrating a whole world around herself, with her Very Powerful Voice, Queen Elsa building a magenta ice castle in the tundra. But when the night falls, loneliness calls. (And here she differs from Elsa, who is set free in her solitude -- a point so obvious that even children pick up on it immediately, casting Elsa as a superhoero, even though the movie itself never really resolves this message -- solitude will set you free -- with its actual ending.)

So a song about dancing with somebody, a song that I've used in my own life primarily to dance by myself, and acts socially as a paean to dancing by oneself, was the thing that got me thinking about loneliness, and my lack of it.

I wanna feel the heat

When I was making a film about my mom, who died of cancer when I was seven, I always paused at a line of hers in one of her journals. She describes lying in bed in the hospital, alone. She says: "I crave their little bodies more than at any other time."

I never really knew how to place that line in the general schema of what I knew about my mom. I knew that she loved us, obviously, loved being near us, being with us. But "crave their little bodies" -- there was something so...well, weird. Our little bodies?

As it turns out, there is literally no better -- no other -- way to say it. I crave their little bodies, and to be lonely is to crave their little bodies more than at any other time. That's the feeling, as plain to understand as "loneliness calls" or "somebody hoooooo!" or "gui-TAR!" Given how non-affectionate (not "unaffectionate," exactly) my family became after Mom died, the sheer closeness to someone in a relationship outside of romance came as a shock to me. I was slow to it. I didn't trust it, or myself around it. It was hard to be so close.

"I like the way she goes, 'I wanna feel the heeeeeeeeeat'!"

Heat, bodies. Even now a part of me recoils. The brain part. My son has started saying something that I think he picked up from his preschool: "my body says X and my brain says Y." Usually these are the same -- "my body says I have to poop and my brain says I have to poop."

My brain says that's not right, this can't be right, and my body says "I wanna feel the heat."

That you want the heat doesn't mean that you want to dance, necessarily. Our dancing doesn't generate much heat, to be honest, aside from working up an occasional crown of sweat. There's Whitney Houston, dancing, dancing, dancing, generating all that heat, and that's the heat that we want, but none of it is the heat she wants. Somebody who loves me. How do you know? Because they're there. They're still there.

Another reason "lonely heart" doesn't hit as hard as just-plain-loneliness, I guess -- that lack, that loss, it isn't a lonely heart, except in a cliche. Your heart stays full. Your brain holds on. It's your body that empties out. You wanna feel the heat. You want somebody there with you, next to you, so close that you you might reabsorb them, protect them from ever feeling what you fear you might now be capable of feeling should it ever happen. Better to dance for a bit than even entertain the thought, though there that thought is, every day. (Wait, who isn't bothered by the cold?)

I spent a lot of my life thinking about my mom, feeling sorry for myself. Now I mostly just feel sorry for her. I used to have some vague sense that she left us, but she never left us. She lost us.

Hooooo!

Pop songs can melt the surroundings, burn out the backdrop, but mostly they are the surroundings; they are the backdrop. I'm glad that I was able to finish my homework as a critic early enough to figure out how to weave all of this stuff back into my life and break down walls between Serious Analytical Work and Serious Life-Living before I had kids. I'm entirely sure that having kids isn't what did it, but I am also fairly sure that doing it helps me to have kids.

Doing all that breaking down work as a conscious critical exercise or whatever you want to call it helped me make room in my body AND my brain to appreciate it when I get gobsmacked from left field. I've approached my taste that way -- hanging out in left fields wondering how to shift them to the center -- longer than I've had kids, and lord knows I didn't need to have kids to appreciate Crazy Frog. Though I did, funnily enough, need to have kids to appreciate Adele's "Hello," which I can now play on the piano and in fact is the easiest song to transfer from toddler psyche to piano. Mostly I let him fiddle around on it.

Having kids mostly reaffirmed that I was right to insist on discovery and serendipity and, when necessary, the humility of getting totally bowled over by something that's dumb as shit, or appreciating when something has layers you weren't expecting (and maybe had layers that no one was expecting, or even noticed, or even existed, strictly speaking, until you made 'em up). I was right to think that there's a muse in us that can't be explained away; that even when you're three, or even when you're three talking about when you were two -- "when I was two, did I...?" -- even then? Yes, then, too! -- god, there was so much going on, so much guiding you, often imperceptibly, to wherever it was you happened to land. Who knew that "Back in Black" was about a Bad Guy, except everybody (except me), except that they didn't, because they didn't hear it like my son did in the car? There it is, that world where the song's not the same every time you play it, and neither are you.

#personal #chiffon brick motorcade

[letsstayyoungforever-blog1]

If you thought you knew Dodie, then you thought wrong. (or exactly right)

note: everything’s written from her point of view except from the “A few situations” category

« ° B A S I C S ;

name ? Oh, it’s Dodie Grant !

nickname ? Someone called me Goldilocks once.

when’s your birthday ? I was born on the 27th of June, 1999

birth place ? Mum says I was born safe and sounds and that’s all that matters. Although I heard her talk with my auntie about the stain on our car’s backseat once.

age ? 18! Yay...

sexuality ? I like nice people but I want to kiss boys 😊

preferred pronouns ? You can refer to me as a “freshwoman”. Just kidding, you can use she and her

which grade are you in ? My first!

is your current hair colour your natural hair color ? if not, what is your natural hair colour ? It’s always been this blonde! Maybe a little blonder as I grew up from playing in the sun.

eye colour ? Well, I can’t really see them but normally they’re green!

height ? A solid 5 feet.

what are you complimented on most ( physically & persona-wise ) ? That I make people smile and feel young at heart.

do you have any tattoos or piercings ? Oh no, I definitely don’t. Not that there’s anything wrong with them!

if not, would you like one/some ? Okay, no... MAYBE I don’t like them THAT much.

what do you do for fun ? Loads of things! Skipping rope, talking to little babies and kittens, blowing soap bubbles, playing board games, making flower crowns OH- pillow fights! I don’t know, just loads of things!

what’s your preferred clothing style ? Bright colours! And I like clothes that have little doodles or a funny message on them, as well.

left handed or right handed ? Just right.

when free, people will most likely find you … up in a tree (that rhymes hihi)

« ° P E R S O N A ;

how would you describe yourself in five words ? Uh, let’s see... Happy, helpful, honest,  hearty and... I’m looking for another word with an H other wise this will seem silly. Hm, high spirited! Does that count?

are you a flirtatious person ? Oh, no. No, no, not really. I get all nervous when I like like someone.

do consider yourself unique ? Yep, everyone is unique and so am I!

are you talkative or rather shy ? I love talking for sure!!

biggest dream ? I really want to help my family out with all their worries. Then maybe they’ll stop treating me like I’m too young to understand everything.

are you good at keeping secrets ? I really want to say yes, because I get so curious about secrets and I know others won’t trust me with them if they tell me! But some may have slipped my mouth already…

are you happy ? Very!

do you consider yourself book-smart or street-smart ? Books usually teach me things. However, the streets have learned me that the grass is softer to play  on, does that count?

main character trait ?  I guess I’m rather what they call… innocent.

worst habit ? I may or may not throw a tantrum every now and then when I don’t get my way...

biggest pet peeve ? People jumping the queue.

if your life would have a title song, what would it be ? Forever young!

who do your friends compare you to ? I honestly don’t know, you should ask them! Sometimes to Kimmy Schmidt from this TV show ‘Unbreakable’

life motto ? Well, on my closet back at home I had this sticker that said: “Life’s too short to wear boring clothes”. That’s something to live by, isn’t it?

« ° L O V E ;

are you in love ? Yep. I fell in love with Korrina’s dog.

do you have a crush ? No, silly! I was just kidding about the dog.

celebrity crush ? Ryan Gosling will always have my heart.

do you believe in love at first sight ? Oh, yes, it’s why I’m not afraid to make eye contact with people!

thoughts about marriage ? It’s lovely. I always cry when I see a wedding.

what does your ideal partner look like ( inside and out ) ? Oh... He should be charming and friendly, I guess. Someone whom I can do all sorts of activities with! I hope he’s taller than me and has soft hair... But honestly I don’t really care for anything other than his smile.

would you consider yourself a flirt ? Not really... Besides, I think the boy should flirt with the girl, as in the movies, right? Not vice versa?

cuddling or making out ? Cuddling is so warm and cozy!

when i was 18 i had my first kiss and it was unexpected

make out song ? Make what out?

turn ons/offs ? Uh, are you asking me about a light switch?

best love song ever ? Everything I do by Bryan Adams

dumper or the dumped one ? I have never had a relationship before but I hope neither?!

ever experienced heartbreak ? Not really, luckily.

« ° T H I S OR T H A T ;

tea or coffee ? Tea. Coffee makes me to hyper...

frozen yoghurt or ice cream ? Ice cream! Vanilla preferably.

chocolat or vanilla ? Oh, look at that, I answered a question before I got it! Hihi, vanilla, please.

shower or bath ? You can dance best in a shower. But you can have floating duckies in a bath. So both.

movies or books ? Movies for sure. I’m too slow of a reader to keep up with the story.

comedy or adventure movie ? Ah, I usually watch the romcoms so comedy it is, I guess. Laughing’s healthier than suspense anyways.

day or night ? I’m a day person for sure. 

black&white or color ? Colors!

chinese or italian ? As people, I have no preference really. But when it comes to food, I’m gonna have to go with italian cause I love pasta.

hugs or kisses ? Hugs!

spring or fall ? Both are lovely! Maybe spring because then flowers blossom. But in fall you can jump around in the leaves...

tattoos or piercings ? Neither please.

money or fame ? Money, that way I can help my parents!

romantic cuddles or hot sex ? Oh, gosh, definitely romantic cuddles hihi.

fair or theme park ? Oh tough one! I’m going to say the fair.

love or lust ? L.O.V.E.

« ° F A V O R I T E S ;

song lyrics ?  "Call 1-800-STEEMER, Stanley Steemer gets carpet (or 'your home') cleaner!" It’s just such a catchy tune! I can’t get it out of my head!

song ? Walking on sunshine

quote ? Youth is happy because it has the ability to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.

actor ? Tom Hanks

actress ? Oh, I’m not very good with names actually. I only knew Tom Hanks because my mum praises him whenever mentioned. That lovely one from The Notebook perhaps?

movie ? Love actually

book ? Peter Pan

memory ? Oh that story about Halloween from 2000 always cracks me up! With the halo and feathers, oh gosh- and then that pumpkin! *cracks up laughing too hard to talk*

joke ? Knock Knock! Who’s there? Egg! Egg who? Eggcited to meet you.

guilty pleasure ? Making things rhyme

« ° A  F E W  S I T U A T I O N S ;

how would your character react if… (note: out of character)

if they walk into the shower and see a huge spider sitting right in the middle of it ? Give it a name and make a bit of small talk with it while walking to a door/window to put it outside. Maybe show it off to some people on the way as well.

they found out they won the lottery ? Trust her parents with it completely. Maybe keep a little to buy a popcorn machine.

if they find a someone’s wallet on the floor which holds lots of cash ? Go to the lost and found on campus, or the police station so that the person who lost it, may get it back.

they hear a knock on their door and when they say “enter” their ex walks in ? That would completely depend on how they became exes. She might get rather upset/sad though.

if their house was on fire and they had 60 seconds to leave ? what 5 things would they take with them ? The cat, her unicorn onesie, her flower crown, a fire extinguisher and the towel that she’d used in an attempt to save the cookies in the oven that had caused the fire in the first place

« ° O V E R - A L L ;

when was the last time you tried something new ? Was it that time I tried to dance on someone’s lap?

would you ever give up on your life if you could save someone else’s with it ? I actually think so, yes. I’ve got to enjoy life a lot already. So especially when it’s someone close to me and/or who still has his whole life ahead.

are you happy with yourself ? Very! Well, mostly.

what chances do you wish you had taken ? I once had a really good come back but it seemed a little rude so I kept it to myself.

what’s the first thing you think when you see yourself in the mirror ? Goodmorning me!

#about dodie #thegreekstask #ooc: this is still in time right

[twocorndogs]

Black Lab by Matt

#black #black lab #dog #labrador #retriever #queue are my sunshine

[travelworldnetwork]

Excursion to the beautiful iced rocks of Horin-Irgi or Cape Kobyliya Golova on frozen Lake Baikal. Photo: Shutterstock

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Siberia's cold is unfathomable. It wraps its savage fingers around my neck and crushes the tips of my fingers. It grates my lungs with every razor-sharp intake of breath. It freezes my brain so I can no longer comprehend what the Old Believer, an Orthodox priest, is saying. His black cassock is rigid with cold, his beard a cascade of icicles, his words a warm spill promptly vaporised on the chilled air. What on earth possessed us to come to this most infamous of outposts, this far-flung emptiness where people have been sent to die – or to live, improbably – and in this least humane of seasons?

Nine days and more than 5000 kilometres earlier, we're oblivious to what awaits us as we bathe in the weak sunshine that's broken briefly through a snow shower and is casting long shadows and buttery columns along a charming Moscow prospect. The temperature is a mere minus-four degrees – a veritable summer compared to the frozen perdition we will face down the line.

Still, the cold here is impressive. We snap-chill a bottle of wine in the snow that's powdering our hotel windowsill. We blink away whirling snowflakes and wrap scarves around our tender noses while queuing to see Lenin's corpse lying waxy and wan and warmer-than-the-living in his sombre mausoleum. As we walk back from a supermarket one evening, I slip on black ice and am hauled to my feet by two men even as I am falling, even as the contents of my shopping bag are rolling downhill.

Frozen waves at lake Baikal. Photo: Alamy

"Spasibo!" I cry out in response – thank you – and they nod nonchalantly. They are well-practised in the rescue of random ice-trippers, these men.

What are we doing here, in the darkest depths of a Russian winter? Attending to priorities: it's my birthday in early January (a significant one), and to celebrate I'm taking the train from Moscow to Vladivostok. What a pity I wasn't born in June.

I'm joined in my Arctic wanderings by 10 family members – an audacious gang of parents, young adult children and a couple of brave boyfriends (the cold is the least of their worries, I imagine). Swaddled gamely against the extremes, they lug small libraries with which to occupy their minds on this interminable journey, and mental fortitude with which to face off against the infernal cold.

COLDER BY DEGREES

At midnight we board the train at Moscow's Yaroslavsky Railway Station, stopping just long enough in the bitter freeze to acknowledge the monument marking the starting point of the fabled Trans-Siberian railway. The route arcs in a broad south-westerly sweep, traversing 9288 kilometres and seven time zones before terminating in Russia's Far Eastern naval garrison, Vladivostok. It is the longest railway line in the world.

The Ural Mountains are cloaked in darkness when we pull into Yekaterinburg in the early hours of the morning. For 33 hours we've peered out from our compact, four-berth compartments at the uncoiling landscape, at fluorescent cities dimming into canvasses of black ink; at forests glittering with diamond snowflakes; at swathes of farmland gradually solidifying into cities then disintegrating again into empty fields of snow. Overzealous heating has shielded us from an ever-changing climate; we step off the train into an incomprehensible minus-18 degrees.

It's New Year's Eve. Yekaterinburg is lit up like a carnival, the Iset River is a boulevard of ice. The Gosudarstvennyy Akademicheskiy Theatre stands like a baroque wedding cake on a bed of snow. Inside, we queue at the coat racks where patrons throw off heavy swaddling to reveal glamorous frocks forced into hiding by the cold. We join them in jubilantly bravo-ing a performance of The Nutcracker, a Christmas spectacle manifesting onstage in vivid counterpoint to the frosted scenes outside. "Zazdarovye!" we cry at midnight, farewelling the old year with shots of vodka and welcoming the new with flutes of champagne.

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FROM TSARS TO SAINTS

Yekaterinburg is a city of death and rebirth, of constructivist architecture built on the foundations of the Bolshevik Revolution and the execution of the Romanovs here in 1918. Though writers passing through on their way to Siberia recalled an unpleasantly industrialised settlement, Soviet poet Vladimir Mayakovsky​ was deeply impressed by the spirit and ideas of the people, says local guide Olga Taranenko.

"They decided to destroy everything that reminded them of the old regime, and construct a new city."

But the new has been replaced with the old: churches have been re-consecrated and the once-reviled Romanovs – Tsar Nicholas II, his wife and five children – canonised. A cathedral stands on the site where the family died, its red granite walls "reminding us of the bloody events", Taranenko says. Even their once-secret burial site outside the city is now sanctified, a cluster of buildings comprising a monastery dedicated to the Romanov saints. Their remains were removed from here and interred in St Petersburg in 1998.

St. Basil's Cathedral and Spassky Tower on Red Square in Moscow on a summer evening. Photo: Shutterstock

IN SIBERIA

It takes 63 hours to reach Ulan-Ude, capital of the autonomous Republic of Buryatia​. We sail from Europe into Asia, crossing oceans of snow, passing railway stations licked with bright paint and fitted with neon signs alerting us to the temperature: minus-22 at Omsk, minus-20 at Barabinsk where we emerge from the train's swelter into a cold so strident it cleanses our stale bodies and shocks us awake. We buy pierogi stuffed with cabbage and potato at a platform kiosk and watch as a railroad engineer crawls beneath the train, lies upon the snow-caked tracks and fiddles imperturbably with the frozen undercarriage.

Somewhere near Novosibirsk​ four men appear in our compartment doorway and sing us a song. They're from Perm, and are on their way to Lake Baikal to ice-skate. We applaud their cheerful ditty, though we've understood not a single word.

"You write about Baikal?" asks one of them, spying my notebook. I nod; he punches the air with his fist. "Baikal you will love," he says. ''Thank you for visiting in its most beautiful season."

Sledding across the ice of Lake Baikal. Photo: Alamy

On the second day of this leg I awake to flooding, late-morning light. I've missed the Yenisei River and an endlessly evolving landscape. We're fast-forwarding through time, gaining hours as we race away from the sun. Our group sprawls across several compartments, locked in games of chess, trapped inside books, embroiled in conversations or hypnotised by the Siberia scrolling by through ice-rimed windows. At mealtimes, the youngsters squeeze into the parents' compartment for makeshift feasts we've cobbled from shops and stalls along the way: bread and cheese and salami, instant mash, caviar sold by platform hawkers for a handful of rubles.

On the third day, I wake before dawn. We've halted in Irkutsk​; I climb from the train into an ethereal gloom. The train recedes along the tracks, its outermost carriages erased by the silvered fog. It's minus-36 degrees, and today I turn 50. Never have I've felt so cold, nor so joyfully alive.

A LAKE FROZEN IN TIME

All day long the train crawls along the south-eastern edge of Lake Baikal. The water sloshes sluggishly, turns gradually to slush and then to solid ice as we curve northwards along the lake's eastern shoreline. Opposite it, fields slope into gullies, snowy whitecaps ripple the plains, fog cushions the tree-line like some mammoth exhalation. We see runnels protruding like ribcages from beneath thin coatings of ice; buckwheat might still be farmed here, says our guide Ksenia Martynova, though after the collapse of the Soviet Union many of Siberia's farms fell into ruin, too.

Temple of St. Sergius of Radonezh – the Monastery of the Holy Imperial Passion-Bearers. Photo: Alamy

Lake Baikal is the low-point of our journey; the temperatures plumb those unfathomable depths, tearing the breath from our lungs and freezing the blood in our veins. It's the high point of our journey, too, for this place is so otherworldly, so far beyond our imaginings, it stuns us into wakefulness and renewed gratitude for the world. So extraordinary is this shared experience, it will bind our family forever.

We disembark at Buryatia's capital Ulan-Ude, a city that embodies the great collision between Europe and Asia, Russia and Mongolia, Christian Orthodoxy and Buddhism. Stray dogs wag their tails, oblivious to cold, it seems; residents stride along streets wreathed with glacial condensation.

"The real Siberian is not the person who doesn't feel the cold," says local guide Goldan Lenkhoboev. "It's the person who dresses properly for it."

Our own polar-wear has served us well until now, but the cold seeps into our marrow in the village of Tarbagatay, where Fr Aleksei shows us around the ethnography museum he's curated. It's a flimsy, unheated space filled with artefacts belonging to Old Believers – Orthodox Christians who were exiled or fled from European Russia in the 17th century in the wake of church reforms, and whose way of life has changed little since then. The cold here is so piercing I can barely focus; it's a visceral reminder of the conditions into which Fr Aleksei's people – and so many others – were once cruelly banished.

We've seen not a single tourist on our journey so far, and now we have the whole of Sukhaya village to ourselves – except for the young Russian men doing burnouts in their Ladas on the ice-slicked shores of Lake Baikal. This fabled body of water – the world's deepest lake and the largest freshwater lake by volume – extends beyond the village in a brumous mass. It has put up a valiant fight against the deep freeze: waves heave and buck and petrify midair. The ice splinters beneath our boots, and when we skate on it the next day we notice air bubbles and water lilies trapped beneath its surface.

On Orthodox Christmas Eve, January 6, we drip sweat inside the banya (traditional sauna) at our guesthouse, submit to Martynova's birch whips – said to improve lymphatic flow – then run outside and smother ourselves in snow. Finally, we're learning to embrace the cold.

THE END OF THE LINE

It's another 62 hours from Ulan-Ude to Vladivostok. The frostbitten landscape flicks past our windows like a slideshow. It's inconceivable, from within the confines of this overheated compartment, that the conditions unspooling outside might kill us if we immersed ourselves in them unprotected; the snow-draped fields are beaches of silica, the larch trees jaunty filigrees against a blue sky. Young marines bound for the naval city run for the train, their breath puffs of smoke on the chill air; the temperature is slowly rising: minus 20, minus 15, minus 10, the neon signs say. A cook comes around sporadically with freshly made pierogis; we lie in wait and clear her tray in exchange for a few rubles.

At Khabarovsk the railway doglegs southwards. We will the train to slow down, but at dawn it pulls into Vladivostok. This is a revelation of a city, we will discover, a place of bright skylines and frozen bays, striking harbours and exceptional restaurants. But we're not yet ready to greet it. We linger on the platform – pleasantly bracing at just minus-eight degrees – and pose for a photo beside the monument marking the end of our epic journey. We've travelled 9288 kilometres – a full third of the world's circumferential span. And there's not one of us who wouldn't climb back on that train before it returns to Moscow, and do it all over again.

Catherine Marshall travelled with assistance from Intrepid.

THE TRANS-SIBERIAN IN NUMBERS

9288 kilometres total length, from Moscow to Vladivostok

1916 the year Moscow and Vladivostok were connected via the railway line

7 number of time zones crossed

60 average speed at kilometres per hour reached by the train

1/3: span of the globe covered by the railway line

7 days it takes to complete the journey, without getting off along the way

16 major rivers crossed by the railway

87 towns and cities the railway passes through

FIVE OTHER JOURNEYS WORTH TAKING IN EXTREMES

DEATH VALLEY IN SUMMER

If you visit the US's Death Valley at the height of summer, you might find out just how hot hot can get: 56.7 degrees as measured in 1913, the second hottest temperature on record. As long as you take all the necessary precautions (such as keeping hydrated and ensuring you have mobile contact) you can enjoy the landscape at its most primordial and without the shoulder-season crowds. Or enter the annual midsummer Badwater Ultramarathon, which starts at 85 metres below sea level and ascends 4000 metres across 217 kilometres and three mountain ranges.

VICTORIA FALLS DURING PEAK WATER

You'll need to take a raincoat if you visit this world wonder in the wet season, when islands upstream from the falls – accessible by boat in the dry season – are drowned by summer's deluge. View the spectacle of hundreds of millions of litres of water a minute gushing into the great cataract separating Zimbabwe from Zambia. Peak water, as it's called, runs from around March to June and (in good news for the bottom line) precedes peak season.

AMERICAN MIDWEST DURING TORNADO SEASON

Eye-of-the-storm itineraries exist for those who dream of observing springtime twisters up-close in a region of the American Midwest known as Tornado Alley. Journeys centre on midwestern states such as Texas, Kansas, Oklahoma and Nebraska during May and June. Sightings aren't guaranteed, but participants are likely to see supercell storms and the impressive lightning shows that often accompany them. See stormchasing.com

ICEFIELDS PARKWAY IN WINTER

In winter practically everything is iced over along this 230-kilometre-long route linking Lake Louise and Jasper in Alberta, Canada: lakes, waterfalls, peaks, forests, glaciers and bitumen. Winter tyres or snow chains are essential. Travel cautiously, dress warmly and stop regularly at lookouts for views of glacier-licked valleys and snow-laden forests. Bears will be hibernating but you'll see bighorn sheep, elk and caribou – and possibly wolves.

KAKADU IN THE WET

Most people assume the NT is off limits during the wet season: too damp, too sticky, too hot. But the wet season is a wild and magical time when waterfalls overflow and floodplains brim with water, intensifying the landscape's lushness and attracting numerous birds. Some roads are closed during the wet (which runs from around November to May) limiting access to sites, and animals are more dispersed; but visitors will have the park almost all to themselves – and it will cost as little as half of what it would in the high season.

FIVE MORE GREAT COLD WEATHER JOURNEYS

EUROPE'S CHRISTMAS MARKETS

These festive markets have been brightening winter-darkened cities since the 16th century. Cities such as Prague, Vienna and Berlin are transformed into charming bazaars selling an assortment of artisanal food, arts and crafts and merry experiences. The markets draw crowds onto light-spangled streets – and help draw travellers who might otherwise visit during the continent's unbearably busy summer season.

QUEBEC'S WINTER CARNIVAL

The people of Quebec City have turned their iciest month, February, into a celebration of all things winter: ice slides, outdoor cinema, dance parties and ice-skating, night parades, snow baths, dog sledding and a canoe race in which competitors paddle along the St Lawrence River through masses of ice.

ANTARCTICA

Strictly speaking, a visit to Antarctica is a summertime jaunt, since this is the season when pack ice melts enough to allow cruise ships to pass through. Nonetheless, the landscape is still a magical realm of ice – pack ice, sea ice, icebergs, glaciers and that icy water in which brave adventurers can take the briefest of dips.

GLACIER EXPRESS

This storybook voyage between Zermatt and St Moritz began as a steam train journey ferrying well-heeled holidaymakers between these glitzy Swiss ski resorts. The 275-kilometre route transports passengers through a winter wonderland filled with dazzling mountain peaks, soaring passes and snow-filled valleys.

HARBIN'S ICE FESTIVAL

Residents of this this northern Chinese city harness its unfathomably cold winters during the International Ice and Snow Festival, creating elaborate ice sculptures – including recreations of famous landmarks like the Great Wall of China. Brave festival-goers can join swimmers for a ritual dip in the frozen Songhua River.

TRIP NOTES

MORE

traveller.com.au/russia

russiatourism.ru/en

FLY

Etihad flies to Abu Dhabi twice daily from Sydney and Melbourne and once daily from Brisbane and Perth, with onward connections to Moscow. See: etihad.com. Korean Airlines flies several times a day from Vladivostok to Seoul, with onward connections to Sydney and Brisbane. See koreanair.com

TOUR

Intrepid Travel's 15-day Russia Expedition: Winter Trans-Siberian Adventure is priced from $3055 a person twin share and has many departures beginning from December 2019. Private group bookings are also available. See intrepidtravel.com.au

KEEP WARM

Appropriate winter gear is essential for this journey. For the coldest outdoor excursions, layer clothing in the following sequence: thermal vest and leggings, jeans or thick pants and a long-sleeved shirt, thermal jumper, polar jacket and waterproof shell, tube scarf, beanie, glove liners and waterproof polar gloves. Snow boots paired with warm socks are essential – Sorel and Colombia are highly recommended. Pack lightweight clothing for the train; it will be warm and quite possibly overheated.

STAY SANE ON THE TRAIN

Compartments are compact but comfortable, with two bunks sleeping four people each; clean bedding is provided. There are two toilets with hand basins and cold water at the end of each carriage. A provodnista or provodnik (female or male carriage attendant) is in charge of each carriage; they keep it clean, provide passengers with beverage glasses and ensure the samovar is filled with hot water. It's a good idea to buy a few snacks, teabags or sachets of coffee from them as they receive a small commission from sales and appreciate the custom.

There are regular stops of various durations; schedules are posted in the carriage. There are often kiosks on the platforms or in the stations selling bottled water and food. Some food should also be bought at supermarkets prior to departure since not all trains have dining carriages. The trains are well-used by locals, many of whom will approach foreigners for conversation. Take small gifts from Australia to share with them.

from traveller.com.au

#Travel Guide

[motherpsyduck]

House Guest

Chapter 10: Sunshine in Vinewood

A shiny, black sedan pulls into the side of the country road. You hear a heavy door shut close by and look up from staring across the Alamo Sea. You turn to see Michael walking toward you. He gives you a brief wave and a short smile. You approach him. He’s wearing his grey suit and removes his aviators when he reaches you.

“Having fun?” Michael remarks as he glances at the stones in your palm. You toss them to the ground and shrug.

“Just passing the time, thanks for coming to pick me up by the way. I would’ve got a cab.” You say sheepishly.

“Cabs are expensive, anyway I don’t mind. C’mon. You don’t wanna be late for your official first day.” Michael ushers you to the car and you slide into the passenger side. You watch as Michael gets in next to you and starts up the car. The rock radio station begins playing and you apply your seatbelt enjoying the music.

You rest your cheek on your hand as your arm’s propped up against the passenger door. You watch the beautiful scenery of the desert slip away as Michael guides the car onto the freeway.

“What did you think of the redneck country?” Michael pipes up, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turn to him and sigh.

“It was nice while it lasted.” You admit.

“Really?” Michael laughs. “I guess the scenery isn’t half bad but the rest of it? There’s nothing fucking out here Y/N!”

“I liked it. It was calming; don’t get me wrong, the city is great too. It’s just nice to see some of the country too though.”

“You can’t expect me to believe you came all the way out here, to the fucking desert, for the scenery.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask annoyed.

“C’mon baby! I know you weren’t out here for the view.” Your eyes could burn holes into the side of Michael’s face. He keeps his eyes on the road trying to find the best way to battle the traffic.

“How the fuck would you know? You weren’t there.” You’re offended. How can he make assumptions? The assumptions were right on the money, but still, Michael hardly knows you.

“I saw the way Trevor looked at you when he met you. I just hope he didn’t force himself on you.” Michael was dancing around the suggestion that he knew you slept with Trevor.

“He didn’t! I wouldn’t let him, or anyone for that matter, and anyway, what the fuck has it got to do with you?” Your cheeks are beginning to burn with slight embarrassment and fury.

“Nothing. I just know what he’s like that’s all. He’s a fucking psycho.” Michael stated the obvious.

“I know!” You hate being lectured, especially by someone you barely knew. The car you sat in snailed along in the traffic on the freeway, and Michael was able to face you now without the danger of distracting himself and crashing the car.

“You knew that? And you still... y’know” Michael’s baby blue eyes were piercing you with his disappointed dad frown.

“I slept with him, yes, it’s not that hard to say Michael. I’m a big girl. I can make my own decisions.”

“...Mistakes.” Michael said under his breath. You heard him. He sighed as he grew agitated at the traffic that was inching only slightly forward.

“I’ll be the judge of that!” You said sternly and watched as Michael clenched his sharp jaw. Why does he give a damn?

-

After a painful thirty minutes or so of being stuck in Los Santos traffic with Michael, you finally arrive at the De Santa’s residence. Once Michael removes the keys from the ignition, you quickly emerge from the car and march inside to shower, dress yourself in a change of clothes and grab your rucksack full of your stuff for class. You’re making your way down the staircase and pull your phone from your pocket and text Tracey:

“Hey Trace. I’m home. About to head to class, you going today?” You walk out the front door in a huff and seconds after you hit send, you bump into Jimmy who was walking up to the house from the driveway.

“Woah! Sorry Y/N.” Jimmy brushed his hand accidentally across your bust in the scuffle. He wasn’t looking where he was going either. “I did not mean to...” Jimmy was pointing awkwardly at your bust and trying not to look directly at it.

“Christ! What is with the De Santa men today?!” You spit through your teeth, taking your frustration out on Jimmy. Jimmy just looks at you with his wide, grey eyes, surprised at your outburst and also deeply saddened he’s offended you.

“Sorry, Jimmy. It’s fine, it’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say with a laugh to reassure him you believe it was a complete accident. Jimmy’s face softens with your more relaxed attitude.

“It’s cool yo.” Jimmy smiles warmly at you accepting the apology. “You... uh finally heading to class then?” Jimmy studies your backpack.

“Yeah, I thought: may as well, while I’m here.” You joke. Jimmy makes a short laugh.

“So where’ve you been? You were gone most of the night again.” Jimmy was curious and a little concerned.

“I.. uh went exploring.” You nodded to try and seem honest. It wasn’t the full truth but it wasn’t a lie either.

“All night? Where?”

“The desert.”

“... Were you with my Uncle Trevor?”

“So what if I was?” You say defensively.

“Hey,” Jimmy raised his palms as he walked around you to the porch. “I ain’t judging. You do you boo.” Jimmy pointed his index fingers up to you before turning around to enter his home. You shake your head and laugh at the strange encounter and feel a buzzing from your pocket. It’s a reply from Tracey:

“Hey! Y/N where’ve you been?? Yeah I’m going today. Wanna meet up somewhere first? I’m dying for a skinny latte! Do you know where Bean Machine is? It’s not far from the house. I’ll meet you there!”

You open your map application on your phone and type in ‘Bean Machine Rockford Hills’. It’s a very short walk from the De Santa house and takes all of five minutes.

-

You take a seat at an empty table outside of the Bean Machine cafe and scroll through your social media. You didn’t expect Tracey to be on time anyway, but fifteen minutes go by and you’re starting to get annoyed. You sip at your beverage and continue to wait for Tracey to show. You’re fed up of looking at the screen in your hand and instead shove it into your pocket to start people watching. You lean back in the chair and bask in the sunbeams that warm your skin. You relax your shoulders into the seat and face your head up to the sky to soak in the heat. Your attention is soon drawn on the road to your right from the roar of a muscle car.  You recognise a long, white car park itself outside the Bean Machine and watch as the driver emerges. Sure enough it’s Franklin, you’d recognise that brooding face anywhere. He’s wearing a green backwards cap, a grey zip up hoodie with a black t-shirt underneath, some basketball shorts and bright white sneakers. You catch his eye as he walks up to the coffee shop and he stops to greet you.

“Hey, Y/N init?” Franklin smiles as he approaches your table.

“Yeah.” You smile up at him. “How’s it going Franklin?”

“Good, y’know. Survivin’. How’s Trace doin’?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself? She’s meeting me here.” You check your clock on your smartphone. “Well, she was supposed to be here by now, but it’s Tracey so...” You shrug.

“Yeah I know what you mean dog.” Franklin laughs. “Imma gon’ get me a coffee, you want something?”

“No thanks. I’m set.” You hold your fairly full to-go cup up to Franklin. He nods and pulls the glass door to the establishment to go inside. You wait for Franklin to return and receive another text from Tracey:

“Soo sorry Y/N! I’m gonna be late, order me a skinny latte? Thanks *kiss face emoji*”

You sigh and roll your eyes, then stand, pull your backpack on your shoulder and join the small queue inside the coffee shop. The place was well lit and smelled strongly and unsurprisingly of coffee beans. The glass display cases that held snacks of cookies, muffins and slices of cake were almost nonexistent from how buffed and clean they were. Long brass ceiling lights hung down above small couches that huddled around dark wooden coffee tables. Clinking noises of cups from the staff clearing tables and stirring of spoons can be heard throughout. Franklin turns as he notices you lining up behind him. His cologne was strong but pleasant.

“Thought you said you was cool?” He said over his muscular shoulder.

“I was. Tracey asked me to order for her.” You wave your phone in your hand to Franklin and sigh with annoyance.

“I’ll get it. What she havin’?”

“You sure?” You reposition your backpack on your shoulder sheepishly.

“Yeah, I’m here in line ain’t I? No point in the both of us waitin’.”

“Ok, thanks Frank. She said she wanted a skinny latte.”

“A’ight.” Franklin nods and smiles and you reciprocate the gesture then return to your table outside. You sip at your drink for a few minutes then Franklin pulls up a chair and joins you. He places his glass cup of tea and Tracey’s to-go cup on the wooden table. You watch as Franklin takes a mouthful from the glass teacup. He notices you staring at him.

“The fuck you lookin’ at?” Franklin asks after swallowing.

“Nothing, I just didn’t take you for the tea drinking type.” You say intrigued. It was cute seeing a small teacup in Franklin’s large hands.

“Whatever man.” Franklin shrugs off your words and continues to enjoy his tea. You smile at him then watch passersby’s with Franklin in silence for a few minutes.

“Yo neck still ain’t healed.” You suddenly become self conscious. Your hands grab and rub your neck.

“What?” You’re confused as to what Franklin was referring to.

“Either you been fallin’ on yo neck a bunch of times, or I’m thinkin’ those are from someone’s mouth.” Franklin pointed at several spots on your neck and your face warms up. Trevor’s love bites must have began to show up on your skin. He takes another glug of his cup of tea watching your fondle your neck. Franklin’s teacup is placed back down as he leans in on his elbows on the table. “Daym girl. You’re new to LS and after like-three days, you been gettin' some? Respect. You ain’t waitin’ around for no one huh?”

“Oh god! Are they really noticeable?” You feel around for the areas on your neck and try to see them in your reflection in your phone screen.

“Nah man. I’m just playin’.” Franklin watched with a half smile as he took another sip of his tea. “... So that night you helped me and Lamar with them Ballas, I take it that weren’t no bruise from a fall neither?”

“No.” You didn’t really want to elaborate. You opened your front facing camera on your phone to try and see the purple marks on your skin. Franklin’s face dropped as he noticed your one word answer.

“Did Trevor... jump you?” Franklin’s expression was sympathetic as he expected the worst. You lowered your phone and made eye contact with Franklin’s glistening brown eyes.

“No, I told him to.”

“You told T to give you that on yo neck? So you into freaky dudes like Trevor?” Franklin smiles as he learns more about you. He had his first impressions of you too.

“That night, I told Trevor to act like we were doing stuff up against the wall next to where the Ballas deal was going down. We were just about to get caught and that’s the first thing I could think of to look inconspicuous.” You fold your arms on the table in front of you.

“What kind of stuff?” Franklin flirted as he took another sip of his tea. You watched him bring it to his thick lips. The golden liquid sparkled in the sunshine as it splashed in the cup. Your grin pulled up on one side of your mouth and your gaze was now fixed on the table as you thumbed at your phone.

“Hmm, where is Tracey?” You mumble to yourself to try and change the subject. Franklin is aware you’ve avoided his question because you’ve gone shy and decides not to keep going. Your cheeks flush red as you try not to look him in the eye.

“Girl’s latte is getting cold.” Franklin adds. You nod at him and then your eyes are back to watching people rushing and speaking on their phones as they pass the Bean Machine. After a few minutes of sitting in relaxed silence, Tracey pulls up in her orange Weeny Issi. The two of you are startled slightly by her excessive use of her car horn.

“Hey! Y/N you ready?” Tracey waves from her convertible. It’s such a warm and beautiful day that she has an excuse to drive with the roof down.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec Trace!” You try to shout over her blearing music from her car radio.

“Hurry up! We’re super late!”

“And whose fault is that?” You spit back with some frustration as you stand. Franklin does a small laugh from your last comment and finishes his cup of tea. He begins to leave too and walks you to Tracey’s car.

“Bye Franklin. Thanks for getting her coffee.” You hold Tracey’s coffee cup up to him then you leave Franklin’s side.

“It’s cool, see ya Y/N.” Franklin replies with a kind smile, then he inhales through his nose as he spots Tracey; he’s readying himself for her overwhelming energy. Tracey removes her sunglasses so they sit on the top of her head and turns her radio down so you don’t have to scream at each other over the music.

“Oh my gosh! Franklin? Hey! What are you up to tonight?” You’re close enough to pass Tracey her now lukewarm latte. She accepts it then proceeds to ignore you and focuses on Franklin.

“I got plans tonight Trace.” Franklin lies; he doesn’t want a repeat of their last date and decides to keep his distance from Tracey. You walk around to the passenger side of the car with what’s left of your coffee in your hand. You dump your backpack into the backseat and sit next to Tracey in the front passenger seat.

“That’s fine; I’ve got plans too... Me and Y/N and some others are going out to a club, just thought you’d wanna join us.”

“We are?” You ask Tracey not knowing anything about the event she mentioned.

“Nah I’m good. Have fun!” Franklin says with a smirk aimed at you. You shrug your shoulders and make a ‘I don’t know’ expression with your face. Tracey gives Franklin a wave goodbye with her coffee in her hand as she pulls away from the curb.

You wave to Franklin as Tracey speeds off. She turns her car radio up again at a deafening volume. You watch in the wing mirror as Franklin raises his hand to casually give one flick from his wrist to wave. Once you and Tracey are out of sight Franklin leaves too.

-

Class drags on and you find yourself sitting there waiting for the time to be up so you can leave and enjoy the sunshine. You try to listen to the Professor but all you can focus on is Tracey’s tapping noise from texting beside you. You glance at her screen to see if she was maybe making notes in her phone of the class, nope, she wasn’t. Her thumbs flicked across the screen texting multiple contacts at once. You assume she’s trying to arrange the outing for tonight that she mentioned to Franklin earlier.

“Hey Trace” You whisper over to Tracey sat next to you. “What we doing after class?” You were about to suggest exploring the city or maybe heading to the beach.

“Dad’s asked me to pick some lunch up for him and drop it off at his work. You can come with if you like.” Tracey whispers back. You see a couple students turn their heads at the two of you and give you a look to say shut the fuck up.

“Cool. Where’s that?”

“It’s the movie studio; it’s not far from the Pier.”

“Oh yeah, you’re Dad is a big shot, Vinewood producer.” You chuckle softly at your inside joke.

“Yah... he loves his movies.” Tracey added looking over to you with squinted eyes not understanding what you found so funny. She pockets her phone and closes the lid to her laptop and begins to stand. You give a glimpse around the room and notice all the other students are packing up their stuff to leave too. You didn’t even notice class was over. What did I learn today? You happily lift your backpack from between your feet and pack your notepad, pencil case and text books into your bag then secure the zip. You managed to jot down a few notes during the lesson but were mostly distracted and daydreaming about exploring more of what Los Santos has to offer.

You follow close behind Tracey as she descends the stairs of the lecture hall and the two of you spill out into the corridor with the rest of the students. You separate yourselves from the others and walk together to her car she’s parked across the street from the campus. You dump your backpack in the boot of her Weeny convertible then slide yourself into the passenger seat and quickly turn off the radio before Tracey sits inside too.

-

After picking up a sub sandwich personally requested by Michael and a late lunch for yourselves, Tracey drives you to the movie studio in Backlot City. She finds a space in the lot near some stairs to a building and the both of you exit the car. Tracey expects you to keep walking with her to the entrance but you can’t help but take in the place. You’re stood on an actual movie set. This is so cool! You watch a few people wearing headsets dart pass with scripts in their hands and some of them scurry towards small domed trailers. You spot an actor in a costume in the distance and try to focus on it to identify what it was he was dressed as. Is that an alien?

“Y/N, c’mon! I don’t wanna be here all day!” Tracey whined. You sigh and jog towards her. You catch up with Tracey as she leads you up the stairs and inside the building to the offices.

Tracey stops at a door with a metal name plate. It reads “M. De Santa”. You stand by her side as she knocks before opening the door. As you enter you study the interior of Michael’s office. It’s a decent size. The floor is a dark, stained wood and matching half the surrounding walls. Above the wood panelling on the walls, the wallpaper is a dull cream making the emerald green rug on the floor pop. You spot a tall producer’s chair in the far corner of the room near the windows covered in coffee coloured, venetian blinds. Your eyes find Michael; he’s typing away on his laptop behind his large desk and a framed poster of the movie Meltdown hung behind him on the wall, as well as a few other posters of assumedly Michael’s favourite movies. Michael stands when he hears Tracey’s voice and you enter the room shortly after her.

“Hey Dad, we brought your lunch you wanted.” Tracey approached Michael as he made his way around from the heavy looking, antique desk. She placed the sub sandwich on Michael’s desk and embraced him.

“Hey Trace! Thanks.” Michael kissed Tracey on her head as she held him. As he pulled away he made eye contact with you and you smiled politely at him. “How was class?” Michael asked the two of you but kept his blue eyes on you.

“It was fine Dad. Can we go now?”

“What? You don’t want a tour of the place?” Michael laughed.

“Dad, unless you have some hot new actors, we don’t want to see some boring old movie set.” Tracey declined. You watch Michael roll his eyes at her.

“Speak for yourself!” You laugh and admit a bit too loudly. Tracey gives you a fierce frown and Michael beams with delight from behind her. You’re forced to continue.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind looking around. I’ve never been on a movie set...” You say quieter than before.

“Fine. I’ve seen it before anyway. I’ll be at home.” You stumble to one side so Tracey doesn’t walk into you, as she’s tapping her phone and doesn’t watch where she’s walking. You watch as she closes the door behind her harshly. You turn back to Michael showing your teeth in an awkward expression at Tracey’s attitude and tap at the sides of your legs to fill the harsh silence. Michael just watches you and waits for you to speak.

“Do you have the time to give tours? Being a Vinewood producer and stuff?” You finally ask.

“Not really, but Solomon won’t mind.” Michael leans on his desk behind him and starts to remove the wrapping on his sandwich.

“Are you sure? I can catch up with Tracey, I don’t want to get you in trouble with your boss.”

“Y/N it’s fine I-” Michael is interrupted from his door opening and in steps an older man with white receding hair and wearing a suit with a loose tie around his neck.

“Oh, excuse me. Sorry Michael, I didn’t know you were busy.” You lock eyes with this man and give him a polite smile.

“It’s ok Solomon, this is Y/N she’s a-” Michael begins introducing you but is quickly cut off.

“-a beauty, I’ll tell you that much!” Solomon reaches his hand out to shake yours. You politely accept and grasp at his handshake at him. “So what you doing here sweetheart? Come to audition?” Solomon’s rough hand let’s go of yours.

“Uh, no.” You blush and give him an uncomfortable smile. “I’m just here to see Michael.”

“Oh.... OH I see.” Solomon flashes Michael a small, half smile then looks you up and down.  “I’ll leave you to it then.” The older man leaves Michael’s office and turns back for a second to tap the side of his nose with his index finger. Then he closes the door behind him.

You’re still wearing your frown and are confused by the interaction so purse your lips as if you’re about to say something but can’t find any words. You turn to Michael for an explanation and he just shrugs and chuckles with a shake of his head. You have a feeling Michael knew what Solomon was implying because you knew what Solomon was implying; he assumed you were visiting Michael without his wife knowing, in other words an affair. So, then why didn’t Michael interject at the assumption?

“So you still want that tour?” asks pointing his sandwich in his hand to the door. You watch Michael grab his suit jacket that was hanging off his chair behind his desk and hold it over his shoulder with his middle and index finger. That little interaction with Solomon massaged his ego real good. You watch him as he walked by you and open the door to his office again. He smells so clean and his aftershave lingers in your nose. He takes a bite off the end of his fat sub sandwich and motions with a jerk from his head that the tour of the movie set is about to start. You do as you’re told and follow him out the door. Michael will be your close, personal tour guide.

- [<-CH9] [CH11->] [<-CH1]

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