#because that hotel scene is so sparse in the details

[thenatashapulleyuniverse]

Kisses in the Pulleyverse

Thaniel & Mori

Joe (Jem) & Kite

Valery & Shenkov

January & Gale

[avasghost]

EVERY SUN THAT EVER DIED UPDATE #1

after a series of very short and sparse camp nano updates for this project, i decided to write a full-length update, with more detail about what i've written so far and what the process has been like. i'll also put all the excerpts i shared in the mini updates in this one, because this is just where im dumping everything i guess?

also be warned that this update is going to be very, very long.

current wordcount: 10,101

playlist: here

like i said in the last camp update, this book was torture to write for about three weeks, then suddenly, when i reached chapter 3, it turned around and has been fun since then! i've had really bad writers block since february and it was starting to feel like writing would never be fun again, then asher and ezra appeared and solved all my problems <3

excerpts & taglist under the cut.

CHAPTER 1: WILDFLOWERS

wildflowers is the first vignette, which follows asher walking through a field at dawn after escaping the cult a few hours before. asher is quite stunned because! what!!

also, writing opening scenes that take place at night is a part of my brand now.

i wrote this entire vignette in one sitting, which is very uncommon for me because i write extremely slow. usually the opening scene is very hard, but this was quite easy.

the *working* first paragraph:

Dawn cusps the valley and Asher is free. It’s liberating, the silence, the emptiness. No houses column the edges of his vision, no steeple lances the sky. No bell chimes mangle the sound, no chanted prayers rise through the dark. Just silence.

right after (cw: drowning mention)

Blue spruces lip the edge of the valley, cusp him in a dewy blue haze. The waxing gibbous moon still stings the sky, its muted glow rivalled by the sunlight that seeps through the trees ahead of him, still too low on the horizon to create a prickle of warmth. Coneflowers and columbines bristle in the grass. Asher’s suitcase snags in the overgrown foliage, beaded with dew. The suitcase has slowed him down, and he doesn’t know if he’s being followed, if someone saw him leave, and for some reason, he doesn’t care.

If they catch him, they’ll drown him. Leaving is worst sin, worse than murder. He’s known this since he was young. And now that he’s here, in a field he doesn’t recognize, under a breeze that gauzes his curls into his face, the guilt sinks to nothing. If they catch him, he can still run.

does anyone follow him? we will never know! at least not until a later update 👁👄👁

here's a line:

The world is an aquarium at this hour. Fused in blue, finches and sparrows floating through the air like fish.

CHAPTER 2: EVERYTHING BRIGHT, EVERYTHING BLINDING

the second chapter, which is the first vignette in parkers's pov. at least, it was supposed to be a vignette, but its currently about 1.5k words so i dont think it counts as a vignette at this point oops. parker arrives in the city and it’s very overwhelming, because she’s only been in a city once before in her life.

The sun needles through her t-shirt, and a light burn grazes her arms. After walking all night, there’s something strange about the light, something unfamiliar. Maybe it’s the city, the way it’s constantly moving. The streets are a shuffle of footsteps and voices, none distinguishable and all of them shouting, laughing, talking in circles.

parker reaches a hotel to stay at and discovers her aesthetic

The large window frames the city, and Parker shifts across to it without taking off her shoes. She trails her fingers over the glass, traces the buildings that cityscape across her vision, the buildings she’s seen from a distance and from beneath them but never from above. The ping of lights, the buzz of cars rattling down the street.

THE WORLD CAN

this is a prose poem (with a bleeding title) and it’s a 336-word-long sentence. apparently giant sentences are my favourite thing to write. i don’t have an excerpt because it’s all one sentence and then i’d have to post the whole thing.

CHAPTER 3: UNTITLED

i tried very hard but couldn’t think of a title for this chapter, and i'll probably think of a brilliant one after its too late. it's the first full length chapter, in asher’s pov. asher sits in a coffee shop and has an existential crises, has a few flashbacks, then ezra walks in and <3 his life is changed forever <3

here’s a bit of asher’s flashback to when he left the cult:

The sun hadn’t risen yet – crickets chirped in the grass, the faint gibbous moon was a stub of candle wax, alone in an navy sky. He left everything behind that morning -- his family who were only family through blood, his friends and acquaintances who never understood him, the world he grew up in, the world he knew, the chapel he knew, the bedroom he knew, the grassy hills and valleys he knew, the daffodils under balconies he knew, the fishing pond he knew, the community kitchen he knew. Everything he knew was suddenly thrust behind him, and the rest of the world had never seemed so clear.

the flashback leads up to his arrival in the city:

He arrived in the city when dawn was at breaking point, when sunlight bruised the cityscape and the drizzle of commuters and the stop signs and the traffic lights. The noise stung his ears, the constant buzzing and shouting and honking. The chaos he’d expected but didn’t fully prepare for.

and then ezra makes an iconic entrance (which literally just his existence is iconic)

At first, he thinks it’s Thomas. He has the same eyes, the same narrow mouth. But he’s taller than Thomas, darker, with wavy sable hair that tumbles over his forehead. A sleek leather jacket. His amber skin reflects the light slinking from the chandelier above Asher’s table. A cigarette tilts between his teeth, leaving a cotton of smoke drooping through the air behind him. His shoes click on the tiles as he walks towards the counter, sunglasses nestled in his hair.

ezra orders coffee, then sits down across from asher and calls him out for staring at him oops!

“What’s up?” he asks. “You’ve been watching me. Do I know you?” His eyes are a lighter shade of hazel from up close, dribbles of yellow pearling around his irises. He balances his cigarette between two fingers on the edge of the table, smoke coiling through the air.

“I’m sorry,” Asher breathes. His words clip in his throat and his voice breaks. It’s never this brittle. “You just look like someone I know.”

they talk for a bit, asher mentions the cult etc etc, then the coffee shop closes and they go outside and ezra asks if asher needs a place to stay for the night. asher accepts the offer and gets in a car with a total stranger, because he’s an idiot and ezra is too charming

(cw: death, shooting reference, mention of dismembering a body)

Asher doesn’t know what to think, following a strange man into a slightly battered silver mustang, doesn’t know what to think when Ezra offers him chewing gum. He takes it, anyway. He doesn’t know why, but he trusts Ezra, in a way he hasn't trusted anyone else he’s met in the city so far. For all he knows, Ezra could drive him into the middle of a forest, rugged spruces looming on all sides, and shoot him in the chest. He could dismember his body and drop the pieces in a lake, to be unearthed by archaeologists years later. But Asher trusts him, and he knows he shouldn’t. He knows he should tell Ezra to pull over, so he can get out and go sit in a park and watch geese float on the water, watch the sun blink out on the horizon – safe, alone, lonely. It’s a risk, being here, but it’s a risk he finds himself willing to take.

CHAPTER 4: TECHNICOLOUR

the second full length chapter, from parker’s pov this time. not a lot happens, most of it is just narrative summary and parker going through Things.

It’s strange, being here – the sizzle of traffic, the shouting of pedestrians, the blaring of horns – and she has a feeling she’ll never fully get used to it. The walls of the apartment shove against her, fluorescent lights fritzing over her head, faraway mountains tossing shadows across the living room floor.

lightning storms – the perfect weather for an existential crisis!

A lightning bolt craters the inky sky and blinds Parker for a second, then disappears, leaving a jagged imprint on the inside of her eyelids.

the following excerpt is a bit of 2020 but in 1994

There’s nothing to do but sleep, now. No events to miss, no catching up to do, no church to attend, no one to talk to. Just silence, jittery music from the TV speakers, rain and sunlight and wind and lightning.

CLAUSTROPHOBIA (n.)

since one of the major themes in ested is fear, i decided to sprinkle in definitions of different phobias, then extend the definitions to relate to the specific characters. this one is VERy melodramatic but here it is anyway because in this house we love melodrama

(n.) an extreme fear of confined spaces.

A fear of the world closing in, the fog of unknowing rampant in the air. You will find that the world is smaller than you think, ever shrinking, shrinking, until it presses in around you like a mold. Until the edges jut against you, cracking your bones, beveling into your ribcage, impaling your stomach until you stop breathing. The world is a mold, squeezing you smaller, smaller, until you barely dot the soil, until the birds can come and pluck you up like a seed. Sure, you can slow it down, you can push it away, you can delay the collapse, but you can’t hold on forever. One day, you’ll only be a memory. One day, you’ll go back to dust.

and that’s everything ! every sun that ever died has been so much more fun to write than anything i’ve written this year, and i’m looking forward to working on it through august. if possible i’ll try to post an update once a month, but i probably won't remember that.

- ava

taglist (i just have one for all my wips – ask to be added/removed!) : @gracestowewriting @flip-phones @shaelinwrites @chewingthescenery @august-iswriting @dallonswords @wildswrites @nodeadnarrators @annlillyjose @shaonharryandpannisim @letsgetsquiggly @strangerays @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @teaandtypewriters @kahaaniyaa @coffeeandcalligraphy @47crayons @writing-is-a-martial-art @familiarvillain @bookdragonfanish @childhoodlovers @finch-goes-tweet @zoya-writes @pepperdee @oceancold @another-wannabe-novelist

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Crown For Two {1}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, 

Words: 6.1k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.  

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”  

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated. 

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.  

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride begins. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a note, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

***Picture Heavy***

Chapter One

“You were supposed to be on your way home.”

 You rolled your eyes as you scoffed. You’d mentioned nights ago that you thought you should just go home, but then you went to your next destination. It was a moment of weakness or it could have been loneliness. Your schedule took a lot out of you. No one saw it because it was all behind the scenes. All anyone ever saw were the incredible places you went to, the fun things you experienced, and the culture you soaked up. What they grasped was whatever you posted in your pictures.

 “You know I can’t. I started this series, and it’s gotten the eye of a lot of sponsors, and one of them is even talking about some really big ideas at the end of it if it goes really well. that could be incredible for my brand,” you explained.

 Anika sighed loudly. You knew she was annoyed with you right now, especially it being December.

 “I know you’re disappointed. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

 “Whatever.”

 “Attention, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. It looks like we’re headed right into a storm. We’ll be experiencing a little turbulence as we veer off course a little bit as we try to evade this thing. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”

 You sighed while buckling your seatbelt, preparing for what was coming.

 “What’s happening?”

 “Going through some turbulence. It should be fine,” you assured your sister.

 “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to hang up.”

 You nodded to the flight attendant and promptly ended the call promising your sister that you’d call her back when you landed in Sandvell. As soon as you hung up, the turbulence began. It started out with slight bumps, that you could sip your drink through. Then graduated to bigger bumps that had you gripping the elbow rests. When the entire plane started to shake, your heart leaped into your throat. One minute passed, then two, and after five minutes or so, the speaker came back on.

 “Ladies and gentleman, your captain again. We’re going to be landing shortly. This storm is not one to be messed with. I apologize for the inconvenience, folks, but on this airline, we choose safety above all else.”

 You weren’t going to argue with him. You definitely didn’t want to risk your life over getting to your next destination. What was a one or two day delay? Once the pilot got to a lower altitude, the majority of the turbulence subsided. It was another ten minutes before the plane landed, but when it did, all you could see from the window was white overcast with darkness.

 When you had your belongings gathered and began walking off the plane along with the other fifty or so passengers, you tried to find cell service, but you had zero bars.

 “Excuse me, where are we?”

 “Uh—I’m actually not sure, ma’am. Patricia, where are we?”

 The two flight attendants looked puzzled. The second asked a third, and that third asked another. None of them seemed to know. That was not a good sign, you thought. Once you’d walked down the long corridor that served as the connection between the airport and the plane, you found yourself in one of the classiest airports you’d ever been in, and you’d been inside quite a few as a travel blogger. As far as the eye could see, it was class, with the exception of the floor.

You looked around you and marveled at the detail in the design that was around you. Where most airports were mainly logically designed without lavishness. This one looked like lavishness was the first priority. The floors looked to be made from the finest paonazzetto marble. You remembered the name because of the substantial time you’d spent in Italy trying to capture architecture through your camera lens. Reaching for your camera around your neck, you began snapping a few frames of the floor. Getting lost in picture taking, you found yourself at one of the many glass windows snapping pictures of the airplanes on the tarmac.

 Hearing the commotion of raised voices behind you, you looked back and saw the passengers of the plane you’d just disembarked from gathered in a huddle. You walked back toward them in time to catch a question from a concerned passenger.

 “How long are we delayed? When will we get back in the air? I have to get to Sandvell.”

 A man wearing a mixture of royal blue and white colors cleared his throat then spoke. “I apologize, ladies and gentlemen, for the delay. There is a storm heading right for us on the path to Sandvell. Continuing through it would be lunacy. Our only viable option is to wait it out.”

 No one seemed to like that answer. All the questions flew out at once. All their voices overlapped, and you could tell that the gentleman was overwhelmed by not only the volume of questions but also their voices.

 “According to our team here, we’re expecting possibly a twenty-four to thirty-six-hour delay.”

 Everyone groaned in unison, everyone but you. You’d traveled enough to always expect the unexpected. Things like this didn’t bother you so much now, three years into your career. The only thing that bothered you now was that you’d have to rearrange your hotel plans as well as finding somewhere to sleep tonight.

 “You said here,” you began with all eyes trained to you. “Where exactly is here?”

 The gentleman cleared his throat again. “Brexendor.”

 The crowd murmured as they looked at each other. Clearly, no one had ever heard of Brexendor. Some even pulled out their travel map to scour it for the country.

 “So what are we supposed to do now? Where do we stay?”

 “We are in the process of arranging accommodations at one of the inns within the capital. If you all would work with us so we have your names to get your luggage to you in a timely fashion so you can be shuttled over to the Inn, that would be appreciated.”

 Everyone filed into a line in front of one of the four airport staff, hoping to hurry matters along while you searched your phone for any information on where you were. When you typed in Brexendor into the search engine, the first thing that popped up was a map of the country. Apparently, it was next door to Sandvell. They were considered sister countries.

 “Population three million, run as a monarchy, considered one of the wealthiest countries in the world. Average life expectancy one hundred and ten years. Well, damn.”

 Someone clearing their throat brought your attention up in front of you. You were next in line.

 “Sorry.”

 The woman with brown eyes and blonde hair smiled warmly. “It’s all right, Ms--.”

 “Uh, Thornton, Xari Thornton.” You handed her your passport and boarding pass and waited as she scrolled through her tablet.

 “Ah yes, Ms. Thornton. Here is your paperwork. On it, you will find where you can retrieve your luggage and the shuttle number that will be taking you to the Inn. Once at the Inn, just provide your name, and you will find everything has been taken care of. On behalf of Brexendor Aviation, we humbly apologize for this snafu.”

 Her customer service training was on point, you thought. Her smile was warm, as if she really meant the words she’d just said. Finding it refreshing, you took the paperwork and proceeded to where she was motioning. Everyone you passed as you walked the fancy halls had a warm smile plastered to their face and even warmer words of welcome. You felt as if you’d stepped through into some alternate universe. You made a voice note about everything you encountered. You wanted to make sure you captured your authentic feelings and reactions in real-time. It made writing about your experience on the blog page easier. You’d even found that readers and supporters liked the play by play with your added thoughts. They commented it added personality.

Once you’d made it to the baggage claim area, your jaw dropped at the change in décor. There were Christmas trees that sparsely decorated the space, and they were all lit with the same blue, silver, and white theme. It contrasted with the latte color of the leather seats and the cream offset tables. The design gave the space an elegant but also comfortable vibe. When you slipped into one of the chairs, you released an audible moan. It was like sitting on a cloud.

 After gathering your luggage, you followed instructions through a hall lined with Christmas trees, stopping every so often to take a few pictures before you made it to the front of the airport. As you stepped outside, your eyebrows shot up seeing the fresh snow cascading from the sky. The bite in the air had you bundling your jacket tighter, but it did not stop you from snapping a few pictures. One turned to ten and ten to fifteen until another person clearing their throat brought you back to reality and to the waiting bus ahead of you.

You took a break from pictures and called the hotel in Sandvell, hoping to alter the dates of your stay. What you expected to be a hassle and a long drawn out process ending in them saying they were booked and nothing could be done, turned out to be quick, easy, and painless. The Luxembourg Hotel assured you that your room would still be available and there would be no charge for the altered dates. You made another note on your phone, a point you had to stress when you wrote your piece.

 You continued snapping pictures from the window of the bus with an easy mind. Everything you passed seemed like it didn’t belong. It all looked so old fashioned but so modern all at the same time. The buildings looked to have been standing since the beginning of time in the materials they’d been built in, but the displays were from the twenty-first century. It was the most exciting contradiction. The only word you could think to describe it was—quaint.

 When the bus drove over a bridge, you got a semi-bird’s eye view of the town across the water, and your jaw nearly dropped.

 “Brexendor? What the hell?”

 The entire drive had you widening your eyes like a child seeing an insane amount of presents on Christmas morning. Buildings were decked out in Christmas lights, and every door had a wreath with blue and silver Christmas ornaments. Almost every few feet, the sidewalks were decorated with poinsettia trees that were half the average human’s height, and the way the freshly fallen snow-dusted their tops only made it even more perfect.

 By the time the bus stopped, you’d taken so many pictures, and part of you was dreading having to go through them to choose the ones that would make the cut. You knew it was going to be a next to impossible decision. As you stepped off the bus, you felt like you’d walked right into a snow globe.

“Holy shit!”

 You spun, taking in a full three-sixty view of your surroundings. all the glistening lights and the falling snow only made it feel even more magical. You didn’t know where the hell Brexendor was or why the hell they rolled like this, but you were excited to see more. When you stopped spinning, you realized several other people were snapping pictures and looking just as marveled as you were. After gathering your luggage, you followed instructions and walked across the street to the building that a friendly looking man with slightly greying hair was standing before beckoning you inside.

 For the second time that night, you felt as if you’d stepped into a Christmas movie set. The interior was set so cozy. It felt like a Christmas cottage, and you loved it. Instinct had you reaching for your camera and taking a few shots of the Christmas tree in the corner by the fireplace and the plaid decorations on the leather couch. Even the pictures on the walls got a snap.

 “Miss?”

 Looking back to the owner, you smiled and approached the desk.

 “Hi, I’m so sorry. This place is so gorgeous.”

 “Thank you. I wish I could take the credit, but it is all my wife.”

 Just then, a beautiful brunette came out wearing a bright red sweater and one of those spoof reindeer antler headbands that bounced with every move.

 “Hi, there darling. Welcome to The Beaux. I’m Anita, and this is my husband, Borik. I heard all about your ordeal. I’m so sorry.”

 You shrugged but kept your smile plastered on your face.

 “It’s all right. Can’t control the weather, right?”

 Anita smiled and nodded. “Definitely not in Brexendor.”

 “I have never heard of this place before, and I am lost how. Everything is gorgeous and so quaint. How have you stayed under the radar?”

 Anita and Borik looked at each other with an all-knowing look that you wanted in on.

 “Guess it’s just happened,” Anita cheerfully said.

 You knew they knew something. Staying this under the radar, including from America, didn’t just happen. This took work. You wondered who in charge in their right mind would make a stupid decision like that.

 “Okay, what’s your name, darling?”

 “Uh, Xari Thornton.”

 “Ah-ha, I told you, Borik. Once we were contacted with a list of names that would be checking in, and I saw your name, I told him I just know she’s gorgeous and look. You are a vision.”

 You couldn’t help but smile widely while trying to keep your head under proper proportions.

 “Thank you.”

 “You must have quite the many suitors where you’re from,” Anita continued.

 You snorted and shook your head. The reality was you were as single as the number one with no prospects.

 “No suitors here.”

 Both Borik and Anita looked shocked, as if you’d said the most appalling thing.

 “That can’t be true. Borik. She’s single and at twenty-eight. Even our Kennedy was at least engaged by the time she turned twenty-seven. Here that is unheard of. A woman is usually married by twenty-four, especially if she’s a looker.”

 You pinched your lips, trying to keep your laughter in. this was not the first time you’d been called an old maid. Hell, your mother said it often, especially since you flat out turned down Maurice’s proposal three months ago. She was livid.

 Anita must have sensed the awkwardness of the moment because she cleared her throat and brought all her attention back to the reservation.

 “Well, your room is prepared. I took the liberty of giving you one of our prettiest rooms. Would you like Borik to carry your bags up?”

 “Uh—no, I’m sure I can manage,” you began.

 Borik stood, shook his head, and came around to you.

 “I won’t hear a thing about it. I’ll happily carry your luggage up. Follow me.”

 “That’s my Borik, ever the gentleman,” Anita filled in with an enamored smile before Borik walked off, leaving her to check in a few of the other passengers from the plane.

 You listened to Borik tell the story of the Inn and how it got its name. You kept one ear on his story while you took in every detail around you. The wood looked so rustic, and you guessed that was what gave the place such a warm and welcoming feeling. The higher you climbed, the more you saw, and the more you saw, the more you liked. You followed Borik down a hall, noticing that all the doors you passed had mini wreaths decked out in the same blue and silver ornaments like at the airport and throughout the streets.

 “Ah-ha, here we are,” Borik said before he put the key into the lock and pushed the door open. Once he did, the scent of cinnamon and pine hit you in the face. It was like the hand of Christmas came out and smacked you.

 “My wife loves the smell,” Borik explained as you stepped inside. You smiled and thanked him for his help.

 “If you get hungry, you have a few options. There are plenty of places nearby you can eat some authentic Brexendorian food, but also my wife cooks every night, and dinner usually is at eight o’clock, but tonight Anette has agreed to keep some heated for anyone who would like some. It’s stew, rabbit.”

 “Oh, thumper. Wonderful.”

 Borik laughed loudly with that one. “I know that one, Bambi, the children’s cartoon. Good one Ms. Thornton.”

 You smiled. “You can call me Xari, Borik.”

 “Well, have a good night,” he said before he walked out.

 Finally alone, the first thing you did was text your sister to let her know not to worry and give her an update on what was happening. After you let Anika know what was happening, it didn’t take long for your phone to ring. The next ten or so minutes were spent talking to Anika and telling her how amazing the things you’d seen so far were. You could not shut up about the decorations, the way the snow looked to have been groomed to lay on things perfectly. It was that damn picturesque. Since you couldn’t stop talking about it, Anika was the one to suggest you go out and enjoy it before you got back on the plane. It was a suggestion you fully intended on listening to.

 Fifteen minutes later, you were back downstairs bundled with your camera and your purse, ready to explore. When you told Anita your intention, she gave you a map of the city and highlighted places to look at but cautioned you to hurry because stores would be closing soon, and nights during Brexendor winters could be brutal. You promised you’d be quick and careful, then stepped out, ready to explore like Dora.

 Your first stop was a block down, a children’s toy store. It was decked out with all the latest toys along with some traditional things that Santa would have brought specially made from his workshop. While you were snapping pictures outside the window, a kid ran up to the window and pressed his nose to it. His eyes were wide, and his mouth matched their size. You asked the adult with him if you could take a picture. When they approved, you got one or two from a few different angles before they walked off.

 As you walked through the city, enjoying the scenery, you took pictures of everything that caught your eye, ornaments, trees, people, stores, even pets. Christmas wasn’t your favorite holiday, but it was your second favorite, and being here really as inching it higher on the list.

 When you felt a strong wind hit you, it stopped you in your tracks. It was strong enough to have you stagger backward a little, allowing a chill to sweep through you. You looked around and saw a few feet away was some sort of bar, and behind it was swirling snow that looked like a tornado. You hurried toward the building, being careful not to slip on any ice that may be hiding underneath the snow. Once to the door, you walked inside, and the sound of Christmas carols filled your ears.

 “Jesus.”

 If the scent of the Inn felt like Christmas slapped you in the face, the look and sound of this place was the one two-hitter that settled that you were in a whole nother world here. You looked around and found a coat rack along the left wall. After placing your jacket and scarf on the hook, you walked to the bar and slid onto a stool. As you waited for the bartender to come over, you looked around. Here it didn’t smell like cinnamon, but the pine was present, along with the smell of alcohol and licorice.

There were several small dark wooden tables around the bar with chairs and even booths that decorated the walls. The floors matched the tables, and those matched the walls. This place looked like somewhere you’d find in the middle of nowhere. The window to the back of the establishment showed the dark woods with tall snow-covered trees and that howling snow tornado.

 When you turned back to the back, the huge elk head above the wall lined with alcohol bottles had you gasping.

 “Jeez,” you said as you snapped two of three pictures of the creepy looking thing.

 “That is Hogan’s prized possession.”

You looked beside you where the voice came from to see a very attractive man there. When you’d sat down, you didn’t notice anyone beside you, so to see his piercing blue eyes boring holes into you. Your eyes traveled lower to his awkwardly shaped nose. It looked like it had been broken once or twice and never quite went back to normal. You didn’t mind it, though. Who liked a perfect face, especially when looking at him, seemed like that was about the only thing that was not absolutely perfect. His jaw was carved to precision like he was specially crafted and not born. When your eyes fell to his lips, you purposely forced yourself to look away.

 “Is—is that right?”

 “Yes. I bet you cannot guess why,” the stranger said in a crisp European accent that was very close to British. You weren’t one hundred percent sure if it was or not, he just sounded proper as hell, and it was actually a bit of a turn on.

 You shrugged while looking at the bottles that lined the back of the bar. “Enlighten me.”

 Just then, a large man with blond hair in a man bun walked over. He had to have been over six feet tall, and if this were America, he’d definitely be a shopper at the store Big & Tall. The man looked to the one seated beside you, ready to speak but suddenly closed his mouth.

 “Hogan, Ms--,” the stranger began waiting for you to fill in your name.

 He thought he was so smooth; you thought as you smiled to yourself.

 “Xari.”

 His eyebrow shot up, and he smiled sweetly. “Wow, what a beautiful name.”

 You smiled, and as you felt it widening, you bit onto your bottom lip to stop it. “Thanks.”

 “Ms. Xari would like to know why Shandoe is your most prized possession.”

 “Shandoe?”

 Hogan looked behind him at the Elk’s head then smiled. “It’s been in my family for generations. It was the first thing my great-great-great-great-great grandfather ever killed for himself to feed his family. They ate everything but the head and decided to keep it as a reminder of where we came from.”

 You were expecting some weird manly story but what you got was a wholesome and heartwarming tale. You smiled, raised your camera, and snapped Hogan, and as he stared at the Elk’s head with such a loving look on his face that was such a contradiction for his large frame.

 “Are you a reporter?”

 “No, no. Not at all. I’m a travel influencer and blogger. I go around and soak up what the world has to offer while taking pictures and writing about it on my blog for others to read about.”

 The man beside you nodded, then raised his glass to his head.

 “What can I get you?”

 “Uh—what is he drinking?”

 “The Mistletoe Bomb.”

 You snorted, unable to contain yourself any longer. “What in the world is that?”

 “You laugh now, but it is a blend he makes special for me. It is not for the faint of heart,” the man beside you informed.

 “Oh no, well looks like I’ll be having one of those.”

 Hogan looked to him, then back to you. “It is all right, Hogan. Give the lady what she wants. I am assuming fell strength is also what you require?”

 “Yes, full strength. I want all the mistletoe and all the bomb.”

 Hogan went to work, making the drink while you continued looking around.

 “Em, I’m Henry.”

 You looked to him to find his hand outstretched to you, waiting for you to place yours in it. When you did, you repeated your name as you noted how soft his hands were. It felt like he’d never done a day’s work with them. Henry rose your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. It was one small action, but that action had butterflies flitting in your belly and your cheeks heating as if a heater was aimed directly at your face.

 “I am delighted to make your acquaintance,” Henry uttered while looking into your eyes.

 “Same,” you whispered.

 Henry released your hand and turned back to his drink at the same time Hogan placed a mug before you.

 “One Mistletoe Bomb for the lady.”

 You looked at the large mug then to Hogan, who waited expectantly. When your eyes drifted to Henry beside you, he too was watching and waiting. No matter how much you felt like this was a setup, you persisted, not wanting to back down. When you took your first full mouthful of the drink, your eyes immediately bugged. Your tongue was on fire in seconds, and it seemed the longer you held the liquid in your mouth, the worse the burn was. You gulped it down and instantly knew the mistake. Not only was your mouth on fire, but now your throat and chest as it burned a fiery path to your belly.

 “Holy fucking shit!”

 The two men boisterously laughed, the sounds booming off the wooden walls before filling the entire room. You looked around, noticing for the first time it was completely empty.

 “What the hell is that?”

 “Something that will put hair on your chest,” Hogan teased.

 “No, shit.”

 Henry seemed to like that response; he laughed again then finished his mug.

 “How can you drink this?”

 He shrugged, then turned his body to you. You gave him a well-paced once over, taking in his furry winter boots, dark pants, and dark sweater to match the pants. Underneath the sweater, though, you saw peeks of a crisp white shirt. He dressed like he had money, you thought.

 “I have done it for half my life. I do not even feel the burn anymore. Do you know why he calls it Mistletoe Bomb now?”

 You giggled and nodded, pushing the mug away. If you drank that, you’d need to be carried out of here. As Hogan appeared to take the mug away, Henry reached for it, insisting he’d finish it while Hogan placed a beer bottle in front of you.

 “Would you like a straw?”

 You looked at Hogan as if he were crazy. Who drank beer with a straw? You shook your head and raised the bottle to your lips to take a swig. This was more your speed, not pure petrol.

 “So you are new in town,” Henry began.”

 “Kind of. My plane had to detour because of the storm, so here I am in a place I’ve never heard of and cannot figure out why.”

 “Is it strange to never have heard of every place in the world?”

 You thought about it for a moment as you took another mouthful of beer then nodded.

 “Yes. I’m from America,” you began.

 “Ah, American. Let me guess. Everything has to be discovered, and if it is not, then either it doe not exist, or it is being hidden.”

 You snapped your mouth shut. He’d guessed American thinking in one try. “Well, that’s not fun,” you added. Henry laughed and took his mouthful of fire.

 “I am sorry. I know America well,” Henry informed.

 “Oh, so you’ve been?”

 “No. I do not need to. I have spent my entire life learning it.”

 You looked back at him, confused by what he meant.

 “Every country gives lessons on other countries of the word, especially powerhouse countries,” he explained.

 “Well, your studies have paid off.”

 “Do you really believe that everything has to be discovered?”

 “No. where is the fun in that? I believe that the world has to have some mystery.”

 “Then welcome to Brexendor,” Henry said with a smile.

 “Brexendor. What’s it’s deal?”

 You leaned closer, resting your elbow on the wood of the bar as you watched him.

 “Deal? I am afraid I do not understand.”

 “What I mean is, the people are nice. Everyone I have encountered, including at the airport, is nice. You know airport staff can be so mean, but not here. The people who own the Inn I am staying at are so sweet. Even strangers I bump into don’t;’ seem to mind. Not to mention, this place has the whole snow globe effect down. It’s incredible. What is the deal? Is the president some fantastic guy who pays everyone well and gives them ample vacation time for them to be so happy?”

 Henry smiled, dipped his head lower, then rubbed the back of his neck.

 “Would that be unusual?”

 “Yes. Compared to what America has going on—highly unusual.”

 “Well, the first thing to know about Brexendor is, a president does not run it,” Henry clarified.

 “Ah right, it is a monarchy. So does that mean there is a king, and queen, lords, dukes,” you began, then gasped, remembering more. “Princesses?”

 Henry smirked, gulped his drink, then nodded. “Yes.” He continued to take another swig from his mug.

 His words slowly resonated. “What!? You’re serious?”

 He nodded, then placed the glass onto the bar.

 “Wow. How interesting. So this King and Queen are they the good kind?”

 Henry’s smile turned somber before it disappeared altogether.

 “Did I say something wrong?”

 “No, no. Yes, the King and Queen are the best kind,” he filled in before he took the last mouthful of his drink. “They would like you.”

 You laughed loudly and shook your head. “Me? I doubt that. While all the mothers of my boyfriends have loved me, I don’t think the King and Queen would care for me.”

 “Boyfriend, so uh—you’re involved,” Henry said as he avoided your eyes.

 His words sounded like a statement rather than a question, so you remained quiet. After a few moments, he looked at you expectantly. You pinched your lips before you finished your beer.

 “Are you involved?”

 Henry took a deep breath looked forward to the bottles at the bar as a pained and confused expression washed over his features.

 “I’ll take that as a yes,” you replied.

 “I am not—involved,” he answered.

 “You said it like you weren’t sure.”

 “It is complicated.”

 “Well, I am a stranger in a bar—an empty bar. You’ll most likely never see me again, and I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

 Henry smiled then turned back to you, resting his elbow on the bar mimicking your stance.

 “You have not answered my inquiry.”

 “Inquiry?”

 Henry smiled again, then bit his bottom lip. That is where your eyes went to. He had nice lips, you thought.

 “On if you are involved,” he clarified.

 “I am not involved with anyone. If you ask my mother, she will tell you I’m an old maid with no prospects.”

 “I do not believe that. You are funny, intelligent, fun to be around, and quite beautiful. There is no way you have no admirers.”

 You smiled and began toying with your necklace.

 “I’m sure you say that to all the girls you meet in deserted bars during a snow storm.”

 He snorted, and you felt his breath across your cheek. It was then you realized how close the two of you were to each other.

 “To be honest, I have never found myself alone with a woman in a bar. You are my first.”

 You bit your bottom lip feeling more flirtatious than usual as you gazed into his hypnotizing eyes. He was gorgeous and becoming even more so with every passing minute. The two of you ordered more drinks, then drifted off to one of the booths on the wall that was more hidden and even more comfortable. You talked about nearly everything and nothing at the same time. He spoke a lot about philosophy and astronomy and the sciences that motivated a lot of the earlier theories. It was fascinating just listening to him speak. There was something about his mouth and the properness of the words he used. Never once did he use slang or even a contraction. You’d never met anyone who didn’t use contractions. The longer you sat there, the more you felt like never getting up.

 “There is something about you that is so comfortable and easy,” Henry began.

 “You too.”

 “I feel like I can talk to you about anything. I even want to.”

 You smiled, “You too.”

 Your eyes lingered, and you saw him sway forward, but then he stopped only to do it again and again. With your faces were centimeters from one another, it was then you noticed the slight speck of brown in his left eye. You felt Henry’s hand gently cup your cheek; then, his thumb slowly stroked your skin. The heat from his palm seared your cheek, and every stroke of his thumb send heat tendrils down your jaw to your lips, making them tingle and yearn for his.

 This had never happened to you in your entire life. You’d known this man a few hours and were ready to possibly bring him back to the Inn with you. Henry didn’t move. It was like he was giving you the last few centimeters to make a decision, but you didn’t make it. A phone went off, but you both ignored it until the sound went off. You raised your hand to rest on top of his. Once your skin touched his, Henry lightly sighed out. Before either of you could make another move, a phone rang again. This time Henry groaned before he looked away just as you did.

 You cleared your throat and slid from his body as he checked his phone.

 “I have to go,” he announced.

 Frozen, you sat there trying to understand if you’d read this entire thing wrong.

 “I am sorry, something—urgent has come up.”

 You snapped out of it, then nodded. “It’s fine. I should probably get back to the Inn anyway. They say a storm is brewing.”

 Both of you stood from the booth while straightening your clothes.

 “I really enjoyed tonight,” Henry added.

 You smiled and nodded. “Me too. It was—nice.”

 Your eyes lingered again, and your bodies drifted closer. It was you who looked away first and stepped back. You reached for your purse, but Henry stopped you.

 “It has been taken care of. Let us call it a tourist special, right Hogan.”

 “Right your--,” Hogan began before Henry looked at him, cutting him off.

 Henry ushered you to the coat rack on the wall by the door then helped you into your jacket.

 “Can I drive you back to the Inn?”

 “No, please. I am more than capable of getting back,” you assured.”

 “Are you sure?”

 You nodded then turned to walk out, but Henry pulled you to him. “I want to see you again.”

 “I don’t see how. I leave tomorrow as soon as the storm passes.”

 Henry looked to be thinking before he sighed. “I guess it was not meant to be,” you whispered, a tinge of sadness filling you as reality set in.

 “In another life,” Henry softly said.

 He came closer then placed a slow, chaste kiss on your cheek before he released you. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, and in those moments, anything felt possible. When you faced that anything could have been possible but not for you, you sighed. A few seconds later, you turned and walked out of the bar.

Once outside, the rough wind caught you off guard. You took a few moments to bundle yourself, then continued walking back to the Inn. The swirling snow in the air made it a little challenging to see, but you tried the best you could. Several times, the wind picked up and shoved you where it wanted, forcing you to grab on to something to hold until it passed.

 Suddenly a big gust of wind blew you to the right and knocking you off your feet to roll for several feet. When the wind slowed, you rolled over onto your back to spit out the mouthful of snow that you’d managed to ingest. It took you several tries to stand, but when you did, you tried to see where you were and what direction you needed to walk in. That was when the wind picked up again, making you scream. When you turned, you saw two headlights coming right at you, then all you felt was pain before you were out cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Night Meeting Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 夜会之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Important references are made to Victor’s Return Home Date, which has not been released in EN. Do read that first before proceeding :>

[ This date was released in CN on 26 October 2020 ]

The red light makes its countdown from 99 seconds. Victor pulls on the handbrake, turning to look at me. 

Victor: What are you looking at - the rules of the competition?

MC: Nope. I’m checking to see who’s participating in the competition, and whether there’s anyone I recognise.

Half a year ago, Victor sent out invitations to small-and-medium enterprises - LFG’s investees - inviting them to participate in a simulation competition in Loveland City.

The winner of the competition will acquire a fifty million dollar investment from LFG.

A few companies politely declined, feeling that LFG was too lofty. But a few open-minded young CEOs were willing to participate.

And I am one of them.

Victor: Goldman is responsible for this competition, so you can look for him if you face any issues.

MC: Does this mean Goldman will have all the contact details of the participating CEOs?

I hold up the notebook laptop in my hands and show it to him, deliberately giving him a sincere smile. 

MC: Do these business elites have good editing skills, or are they truly this handsome?

A sudden drizzle descends from the gloomy sky.

Victor taps on the steering wheel indifferently, his ring finger clicking the windshield wiper.

Victor: There isn’t a discrepancy between the actual people and the photographs.

MC: So they truly... have their merits.

Probably because my awe sounded too genuine, Victor’s eyelid twitches slightly.

Victor: You could look for them yourself to get their contact details. The reason why LFG is holding this competition is to allow for interaction among elite businessmen from different industries, and to expand their network.

MC: ...yes yes yes. A few days after interacting with them, we’ll be able to clarify what they are good at, what sort of personalities they have, and whether there’s a possibility of collaboration in the future. To a start-up company, financing channels that can provide these resources are even more important than the funds themselves. Victor... I know all this.

Victor: But?

MC: But according to the rules of the competition, I have to be locked in the hotel for a full seven days.

Victor turns a deaf ear to me. He pushes the handbrake, stepping on the accelerator.

In a soft voice, I continue sending out hints. 

MC: Don’t you have anything else to warn me about? For example, to take care of my safety?

Victor turns the steering wheel to the right, casting his line of sight to the rearview mirror.

Victor: You’re very safe in LFG’s hotel. There’s nothing to be cautious about.

With this, the logo of LFG’s hotel comes into view. 

I reach out to unbuckle my seatbelt, but Victor stops me.

Victor: I’m driving to the underground carpark.

MC: The rain isn’t that bad. Alighting me at the entrance will do.

Victor doesn’t respond. He has already passed the gate, and has entered the carpark.

After coursing through the familiar carpark, the car pulls up in front of the elevator. 

Since it’s still early, only a sparse number of cars are in the carpark. The surroundings are quiet, and there’s not a single person around. 

...I first glance at him out of the corner of my eyes.

MC: I’m off.

Victor: Mm.

Then, I unbuckle my seatbelt. 

MC: Are you going back to LFG now?

Victor: Mm.

After a pause, I take my handbag.

MC: I’m... leaving now?

Victor lowers his eyes slightly, releasing a very soft chuckle.

He’s doing this on purpose! I immediately push the car door open--

A hand suddenly lands on the right side of my forehead. I subconsciously turn my face to the left. He leans forward, pressing his lips to my hair.

Victor: Be safe.

His low voice encapsulates a mildly teasing smile and breath. It’s as though he’s giving me a tiny, tangled compliment. Even his lowered voice is mixed with cheerful satisfaction.

I nuzzle my head into his palm. His sleeve and wristwatch slide downwards, revealing the edge of his palm and his long, slender fingers.

MC: You too. Drive safely.

After disembarking from the car, I turn around again and wave at him.

MC: I’ll strive to win the competition!

-

Goldman: Firstly, I’m grateful to all the participants for coming here despite your busy schedules.

Goldman: I trust that everyone has taken a cursory look through the rules of the competition before coming here. 

Goldman: In this competition, you have to study an LFG acquisition case, and produce an analysis report from any perspective. 

Goldman: The employees will be distributing the case study materials to the participants. According to the rules, the submission date for the report is the final day of the competition. 

Goldman: In the meantime, everyone can use the leisure time in the evening to work on this task.

Without a lively atmosphere that other competitions have, Goldman informs everyone about the important topic of this competition the moment everyone takes their seats.

The meeting room is on the 32nd floor. The view outside the window features Loveland City’s financial centres and tall skyscrapers, the glass windows of every building refracting rational, cold light. 

Enveloped by the overcast sky and light drizzle, the entire business district looks extremely serene. 

Very soon, hardcopy versions of the case study materials, as well as a USB drive containing the files, are in my hands. The sound of paper can be heard as the people around me start reading.

After a while, the participants exchange glances, and start discussing softly.

??: Business plans, meeting minutes, financial statements, employee resumes... LFG is letting us look at every brick of SE. 

??: It was worth making the trip here - this is all insider information! It’s such a waste that there aren’t contact numbers on the employee resumes, so I can’t tell who is who. 

??: I like this topic. It’s in line with Victor’s style. 

Out of all LFG investments, SE - a network video platform - was its worst.

When the information was first announced, every financial platform used phrases like “LFG’s Battle of Waterloo” or “Victor’s wrong decision” to attract attention. 

Even though many people have already forgotten about this matter with the passage of time, Victor, without doubt, still remembers it.

-

In the evening, I read through the materials, which span over three hundred pages, seriously. Every day and night that Victor revisited SE’s business model flashes past my eyes. 

Victor must have found a lead here, and clearly identified every minor detail resulting in SE’s collapse. 

Now that I’m the one in his shoes, can I do it?

Feeling drowsy, I clip up my fringe and lean against the chair, staring at the ceiling.

My phone suddenly rings. It’s a certain someone’s special ringtone, and I’m so surprised that I jolt awake.

Victor: How was today?

MC: It was very enriching. I made so many new friends, and participated in the most difficult ERP Sand Table Simulation in my entire life. I even had a seafood buffet in LFG’s hotel, which is deserving of its reputation. What about you? Are you still in the office?

[Trivia] An ERP (Enterprise Resource Planning System) Sand Table Simulation (沙盘模拟 - “sha pan mo ni”) is a relatively new teaching mode of accounting in China, which cultivates one’s ability of business operation, coordination and interpersonal communication. It basically simulates the operation of an enterprise, which includes marketing, production, logistics, financial centres, etc.

Victor: Mm.

MC: Are you standing at the window looking at the scenery?

Victor: Mm, I just realised that the rain has stopped.

I draw back the curtains, looking at the night view beneath my feet. It’s already very late, but the lights from office buildings illuminate the night distinctly. 

They even reveal the sharp and lonely colours of the cloudy night.

This is one representation of “business”.

Before the collapse of the magnificent SE, its building was often lit up - a starlight converging with the city’s night scene.

The same goes for LFG’s building.

MC: Once you’re done, head home early to rest.

Victor: Are you preparing to sleep?

Looking at the tiny mountain of materials on the table, I let out an anguished wail.

MC: CEO Victor, don’t you know how demanding the rules you set for the competition are? How could I be sleeping at this time!

At the other end of the line, Victor cannot help but laugh.

Victor: In that case, I’ll wish you the winning prize?

MC: Sure, I accept your blessings!

-

This is the fourth cup of coffee I’m having today.

Time is tight, so I’m unable to comb through every single one of SE’s business proposals and then formulate them into words. I need to go straight into the heart of the matter, and hit the nail on the head!

Even so, I stare at the file on my laptop which currently spans over thirty thousand words. There’s a sense of unease in my heart.

Did I include too much nonsense? 

It’s already the evening of the fifth day, and I’ll have to submit the report in 37 hours...

Restless and anxious, I down the remaining half of my americano, then draw a bunch of squiggles on my draft.

The doorbell suddenly rings. 

A possibility flashes in my mind. I run over frantically, looking through the peephole at the person standing outside.

MC: W-wait for a moment. Victor, wait for a while!

With fiery speed, I rush to the dressing table to tidy myself up, then rush back to open the door.

Victor: Did I come at the wrong time?

MC: No you didn’t...

Before I finish speaking, Victor reaches out to touch the pimple patch on my forehead.

Victor: What’s this?

MC: Worry, internal heat, loss of sleep, supper... The main reason could be the fried chicken I had for supper the day before yesterday.

Victor: You don’t know how to eat something better even with the competition funds from the company.

Without waiting for him to continue, I press him down onto the sofa in the living room.

MC: Let’s continue our chat later. Hold on, I’ll tidy up some things!

It becomes evident that I have some issues estimating how long “a moment” is.

By the time I finish combing through my outline and prepare to do a further refinement, more than an hour has passed. Victor remains seated on the sofa, waiting for me. 

I blink at him guiltily.

Victor: Are you done?

MC: Not yet, but I can take a break~

I walk over, kneeling on the empty space on the sofa, leaning my entire body onto him.

Victor shifts closer, placing a hand on my waist in a habitual manner.

Victor: How’s the competition?

With a frown, I shake my head.

MC: As of now, I’m ranked in 13th place. Your fifty million dollar investment wouldn’t reach me.

Victor glances at the outline and the half-completed draft in my hand.

Victor: You still want to compete when you have no prospects?

MC: Of course. I’ve already worked on this for so long, so I should at least produce something.

I tilt my head on Victor’s shoulder, taking another look at the report I've spent days writing. The more I look at it, the more dissatisfied I am. So, I just heave several deep sighs.

MC: But some of the competitors are really formidable. I can tell that they’re treating this competition as a game - they don’t put much heart into it, and they aren’t very serious about it. Even so, they win very easily, and take the lead very easily.

I say excitedly, straightening up and facing Victor. 

MC: For example, the CEO from Yao Yue, the media company, has won me over. During the ERP Sand Table Simulation on the first day, he actually went to other groups to poach members halfway through. And poaching other people was just the first step. Once their funding chain was in operation, they went around purchasing other production lines, and continuously expanded their scope.

Victor smiles faintly, his expression reflecting a tacit understanding.

Victor: You aren’t bad either. Goldman told me that among all the competitors, you were the first one who thought of capitalising on rent to construct the production line. 

MC: You said it yourself - whatever isn’t prohibited in the rules is permissible.

Furthermore, Victor had prepared for numerous eventualities during the game, and arranged for Goldman to react accordingly. Nobody’s creativity can disrupt the process of the game. 

Thinking about this, I once again feel disheartened, plopping myself back atop Victor’s chest, looking at the report that I have no idea how to amend.

MC: As compared to them, I’m still far behind... It’s so difficult to surpass you.

Victor suddenly lapses into silence, his hand on my back.

-

The air-con in the middle blows out rustling wind. It’s very soft, but I hear it very clearly because of how quiet the room is. 

Accompanying the regulated white noise is the comfortable warmth from Victor’s arms. Four cups of coffee doesn’t seem to be of much use.

Drowsily, I stare at a sentence on the report, warning myself repeatedly: I can’t sleep yet.

Perhaps noticing that I haven’t spoken for a long time, and that I’m so tired that my eyes have drifted shut, Victor gently takes the file away from my hand.

MC: ...I’m not sleeping.

Hearing my indistinct mumble, he lets out a resigned chuckle. 

Victor: Are you going to continue amending it?

So tired that I can no longer open my eyes, I give him a nod, rubbing the side of my face on his chest.

The scent of a fresh bath entwines with cologne, twirling around the tip of my nose. It’s such a pleasant scent that it makes one feel as though breathing is a kind of luxury.

Likely not knowing how to deal with me, Victor holds onto the file and doesn’t move.

It’s only until I hug his waist contentedly like a cat which has had its fill of being coquettish, that he flips through the file, probably wanting to have a quick look at what I’ve written.

After a while, he touches the ends of my hair.

Victor: The overall reasoning has no issues. But regarding the marketing strategy...

I reach out to cover his mouth. Because I’m not looking, my fingers fumble on his face for a moment.

MC: This is a competition, so you can't help. And this is my competition, so I can do it independently... Also, you specially came over at night just to comment on my report?

Victor: Why else do you think I’d be here?

I open my eyes lazily and look at his chin. With a hum, I bury my face into the crook of his neck, coquettishly blowing into his ear.

MC: Teacher Victor...

MC: I’m calling you ‘Teacher’ not because I want to talk about business methods and progress in work.

Victor doesn’t say anything. He places the file on the coffee table. After a pause, he speaks softly.

Victor: You never mentioned that your goal was to surpass me. 

MC: I have, but you didn’t take me seriously...

I rise from his chest, giving him a firm look.

MC: I’m not that silly to think that just because I’ve won a few media-related prizes and produced a few good programs, I’m already on the same level as you. You’ve been taking care of me in a greenhouse, keeping out the wind and rain for me. All I can do is to make a few flowers bloom under your meticulous care.

The lenses of his thin spectacles reflect the warm and yellow ceiling lights. Behind the lenses, there are deep emotions in Victor’s eyes.

Victor: When did you have such a thought?

My line of sight falls onto the file on the coffee table. On the first page of the report, the words “SE” have been circled with a pencil.

MC: When SE got into trouble, you flew to France and were so busy that you didn’t sleep for days...

MC: And when you were back in the country, you spent half the year arranging for the sale of the property and didn’t tell me a single word about it. That’s when it started.

This has been a knot residing in my heart, and I've never brought it up to him.

I really wanted to help even a little, but I didn’t manage to do anything.

Unable to be needed by him, unable to become a person he can face difficulties with... A voice in my heart has always been reminding me of such a reality. And I'm not going to simply resign myself to it.

Victor: What happened with SE is just an example. We’re from different businesses and different fields. There’s no need to compare yourself with me. Also, I’m older than you. When you’ve reached my age, you might attain the achievements I have today.

Victor lifts his head to look at me, his eyes filled with his usual resoluteness.

Although I only said one thing, he seems to have understood everything.

Victor: You’ve never been a flower I’ve been raising in a greenhouse. At any point in time, I do need you very much. When SE was in trouble and the PR Department couldn’t communicate with the media, they talked to you about it. It’s not as if you weren’t of any help.

You tilt your head to look at him. Furrowing your brows, you bite your lip.

MC: Could we not talk about such general principles? I can understand them, but the things I can do are always limited... Which is why I’ll not give up on this goal.

Victor sits upright, closing the distance between us. His grip on my back tightens slightly, and his voice is even lower than before.

Victor: Who was the one who said she didn’t want to talk about business methods and progress in work? 

Victor: Is the phrase “I need you” also considered a general principle?

I lower my head and chuckle, pushing at his chest lightly with my fingertips. He doesn’t pull back. Instead, he shifts forward even more.

Victor: What do you think I specially came over so late at night to do?

His voice carries with it his exhaled breath, reminiscent of a silk thread on my collarbone, causing a ticklish sensation to surface.

I have no choice but to lift myself up, cupping his cheeks in my hands.

MC: Teacher Victor, you look very good in spectacles.

[Note] AND THEN EVERYTHING FADES TO BLACK AND YOU KNOW THINGS ARE GETTING SPICY

Victor: Still amending your report?

MC: I will. I’ll amend it after you leave.

Victor: In that case, when do you want me to leave?

MC: ...

MC: I still have an entire day tomorrow.

Victor: Are you sure?

MC: ...don’t tempt me!

Victor: I’m seeking your opinion. The decision rests with you.

-

🌹 MOMENTS 🌹

Victor: Looks like the dishes in LFG’s hotel are passable. A certain someone actually put on weight after being locked in for seven days,

MC: Fried chicken! Five star recommendation! The breaded chicken thigh paired with plum sauce was so delicious that I was on the verge of tears!

Victor: I’ll give you an opportunity. Bring your proposal over and exchange it for the secret recipe for the dipping sauce.

-

Victor: Looks like the dishes in LFG’s hotel are passable. A certain someone actually put on weight after being locked in it for seven days,

MC: Not just the dishes - the wine was also very good!

Victor: When did you secretly drink wine?

-

Victor: Looks like the dishes in LFG’s hotel are passable. A certain someone actually put on weight after being locked in it for seven days,

MC: Every meal was a buffet, so it’s difficult not to gain weight...

Victor: A greedy cat always has many excuses.

-

Phone call: here

[joachimnapoleon]

@histoireettralala asked me to make a post regarding the friendship between Murat & Fouché. I can't promise this is going to be super thorough, but I'll give it a go.

To start off with, there really aren't a whole lot of details to be found regarding their relationship. The (very incomplete) picture of it I currently have, is from piecing together what I've been able to find so far of their existing published correspondence (which is very sparse), and some bits and pieces from various other sources. There are some views on Murat offered in Fouché's memoirs, but they may or may not be Fouché's own; according to Archive.org, the memoirs were apparently not written by Fouché himself, but by one Alphonse de Beauchamp--though Beauchamp did use Fouché's notes and papers. Murat, of course, left no memoirs himself, ghostwritten or otherwise.

I can't be sure when the two men first met, but it seems to have been at some point in the early 1800s that they became friendly, particularly after Murat was made governor of Paris in 1804 and they found themselves working together more frequently. It might seem surprising, given the vast differences in their personalities, that they got on as well as they did. But they also shared some key similarities in their backgrounds--both were born to bourgeois families, educated in seminaries, and became ardent revolutionaries.

They were also both very doting fathers, and I feel like this is probably something they both bonded over. Fouché had lost three young children in the mid 1790s, and this had caused him much suffering. When another one of his children died in the summer of 1805, he wrote a letter to Murat on 5 July, telling him:

My soul is oppressed with sorrow, I have just lost one of my children. This event is tearing my heart apart. Take care of the health of yours. The loss of a child hurts so much!

When Fouché stayed in Naples in 1813, his children became the playmates of the Murat children. From Louise Murat's memoirs:

Received by the King and Queen in total intimacy, invited into the small apartments, I remember having often dined there with him and his children, with whom we had become well acquainted. It is, I believe, to the noisy games which followed those meals that I owe the vivid memory I’ve kept of the Fouché family.

Louise also left a footnote on the relationship between Fouché and her father, which I forgot to include in the post linked above:

If Thiers and a few other historians are to be believed, Fouché made no secret of his friendship for Murat, which more than once aroused, and in particular in 1809, the Emperor's jealous discontent.

(The 1809 reference alluding of course to the Fouché/Talleyrand discussion about potentially having Murat succeed Napoleon in the event that he died without a legitimate son, which permanently altered the relationship between Napoleon and Murat for the worse.)

The remaining letters between them are few and far in between, but a few little excerpts provide some insights into their relationship (these are all from Fouché to Murat):

[16 August 1805] Your Highness was missing yesterday at the ball at the Hotel de Ville. However, a magnificent sword of precious workmanship was to be presented to him. Our most beautiful ladies were counting on your hand to dance. (...) P.S. I saw with great satisfaction that Princess Caroline's health had enabled her to be taken in a canoe and to traverse the entire rear of the line of battle, at a time when the combat was most animated.

[23 August 1805] I undertook to fulfill the mission that Your Highness entrusted to me. I presented your compliments to Mme R... She gave me in response the letter that I have the honor to send you.

[18 September 1805] I was pleased to learn that your health has not suffered from the rapidity of your courses. (...) Although I regret no longer seeing you in Paris, I cannot help congratulating you on being with the Emperor when he is about to expose himself to new dangers. However, I prefer to see him fight the Austrians than the English, because I have the confidence that in the continental war which is about to rekindle, there are only laurels to harvest. I beg Your Highness to believe that my feelings for you will never grow cold in separation, that I will maintain a respectful and deep attachment to you all my life. Have no doubts about the satisfaction I will have in learning from you the first victories of the Grande Armée.

From the 1805 campaign on, they were rarely within each other's orbit. Between administering his new Grandy Duchy of Berg and taking part in three wars between 1805-1807, Murat was only sporadically in Paris. He spent most of the first half of 1808 in Spain, most of the second half in Naples; from the time of taking the Neapolitan throne on he made only a handful of trips to Paris (and after Fouché lost his ministry in 1810, it was some time before Fouché was there again anyway).

I'm not sure if they saw each other again between 1810 and late 1813, when Napoleon sent Fouché to Naples to try to urge Murat to stay the course and remain loyal to the Emperor. What seems to have happened instead, is that Fouché went through the motions of fulfilling this mission, but privately ended up advising Murat to accept the Austrian terms in order to save his throne.

In the aftermath of Waterloo, Murat found himself in dire straits in France, to which he had fled after his own failed campaign against the Austrians in Italy. A bounty was put on him by the Marquis de Rivière (whose life Murat had helped save years earlier), and Murat was forced to hide out in the countryside until he ultimately found the means to flee to Corsica for refuge. Behind the scenes, Fouché was working--at odds with the new régime he was serving and with whom he was trying to ingratiate himself, it should be pointed out--to save Murat, by procuring for him passports and an offer of asylum from Austria, where he would be able to join his wife and children in exile.

We know how Murat's story ends. But Caroline did not forget the efforts Fouché had taken to save her husband, and years later--shortly before the death of Fouché--she wrote him the following letter:

20 August 1820

Monsieur Duke, for a long time I have wanted to express to you my gratitude for the good you tried to do for him whom we will mourn unceasingly. I and my children have not been unaware, that if it had depended on you, misfortune would not have overwhelmed us. Trust that we will keep the remembrance of it continuously, and that it will be sweet to us in whatever position fate places us, to remind ourselves of your generous conduct towards the King.

I am very happy that the departure of M. Gayl offers me the occasion to express to you the sentiments of attachment that unite me and my children to you and yours. I keep myself regularly informed of everything that concerns you.

I know that your wife is charming, that your children have justified all your hopes, that, in short, you are happy through your family. Remember me to your sons and your daughter; tell them that my children cannot forget the few happy moments they spent together.

I cannot give up seeing you again, and I hope to be able one day to assure you in person, that my gratitude and my attachment will never end.

-Caroline

So, that is pretty much all I have regarding the Murat/Fouché relationship. I wish there was more available, but enough remains that I do feel comfortable in believing that they did strike up a genuine friendship; Fouché is one of those figures whose reputation is so sinister that people tend to believe him incapable of any kind of warmth and natural human emotion whatsoever, but I think there's enough evidence here to show otherwise, and I believe he did acquire a certain amount of attachment to Murat. He had no reason whatsoever to try to help Murat in 1815 at a time when he was still trying to win over the new regime; if anything his efforts probably imperiled that effort. Murat had nothing to offer Fouché, nearly all of his assets had been lost when his kingdom was retaken by the Bourbons; Fouché's efforts to save him and reunite him with his family were, in my opinion, totally selfless, and borne out of his true friendship for Murat.

[bunny-hoodlum]

I want to ask you a bit of every wips you have, but the one that has my whole attention is Better Off!

I reread it (with Territorial) not so long ago on ffnet, so I'd love to have some news about it.

Maybe how you feel about it? How the rewriting is going? Or maybe a few recent lines you wrote?

I take anything you have to share about it.

To

Though if you don't have anything to say, you can always speak about 21 Days.

No pressure, you decide 😊

Chloe!! 😭🤗💕 Haha, I'm just happy with your continued investment despite my worst writing habits. Thank you for understanding. 🥺 I'm also perfectly happy to touch on both stories!

Ah! One last thing! @dayseternal-blog was my sounding board for both old and new iterations of Better Off, so I owe a lot to her, even though I haven't produced anything from our talks yet. 😓

I can't decide on an excerpt, I was gonna share the last thing I wrote for the Better Off reboot, but it wouldn't fit lol! Man, that file hasn't been touched since 6/20/2020. 😂... 😭

In the original iteration I wanted Hinata to be a cop with Sasuke (stationed at, well, the train station) and Naruto gets arrested by Hinata as a suspected Chikan (train molester) and maaaaaaybe it was misunderstanding? God I forget. I think I wanted him to rly do wrong but like, he's fallen so far that he was bound to do it. But I was really really scared to write that, too. I kept picturing the flak I would've gotten, lmao. But then Hinata was going to strike a deal with him. She would take on all of his lust so he would stop and get better. She has no idea she's been his Muse all along, so it oddly works out? 

Anyways, I got cringed out by the old iteration of Better Off because I just felt bleh by Naruto's internal monologue and self-pity and shit. There's ways to do that that's less heavy-handed. Also I just didn't enjoy informing his characterization off of hentai MCs, even though that was the intention. I thought it would be fun, cuz I like playing around with the meta, but that didn't last lol.

So now, in the new version, instead of a cop, Hinata is a guidance counselor at her old private all girls school. And there is this 'club' of enjo kosai (compensated dating aka high school girl prostitution) and 3 of those students are the kohai fangirls from The Last. Instead of Naruto turning into a compulsive fapper and malignant daydreamer (why do I compound these things?), he gets his research by using a call girl agency. The enjo kosai club decides to poach him as a customer and yeah. Probably still creepy, but still better than being a Chikan loser. The premise of Hinata taking on all of Naruto's lust still remains intact, with new nuances of course.

Moving onto 21 Days!

I probably have 78 files for Chapter 22. Some really sparse and some really long. It's cuz I think I wrote the opening scene 5 or so different ways and each time spawned a new copied file full of fresh edits, because I'm inflexible af.

When I posted Ch 21, I had originally envisioned Naruto sharing stories from Uzushio through his Kaohon/FB page, and I had this beautiful image of Naruto scrolling all the way down to the first post of his first day in Uzushio (filmed by his mother) and how starkly miserable he looks and Hinata visually seeing the extent. And then Naruto forgetting that the video was like that and being embarrassed. (He thought it was just a tour of the Market.) But it ended up being boring to write? And like, repetitive because they already hashed that stuff out and Hinata had her epiphany. I wasn't sure if I should keep beating a dead horse or figure something new out, but I'm mentally still held back by that scene.

I also had 2 other backstory scenes written, but it felt like I was stuck in the despair/pining tone of the last 21 chapters, so I haven't committed those. But the really, really long backstory scene has interesting details I wish I could still incorporate.

Also the meat of the chapter where Naruto is at Sasuke's hotel room party, I've been struggling to plot it out in an interesting way. I have multiple outlines and ideas and junk, but it just hasn't been coming together.

I want the party chapter to evolve relationships and progress the plot and everything, but it keeps feeling awkward to write. Like, Team 7 trying to work in some new 'therapy' schemes for Hinata. For starters, I kinda fucked up Exposure Therapy? It's mostly talk therapy. The physical exposure stuff is after talks. I'm so distracted by my mistakes I can't proceed! I just don't believe in the way I wrote that scene where Sakura was trying to psychology profile Hinata. It's both exactly the way I wanted it to be and completely silly in hindsight. It just sounds like my author voice was coming out of Sakura's mouth, now I can't believe in any of their schemes from here on forth.

So that's what I've been struggling with! I've been hoping with every effort that I'd figure it out, and I'm still hoping lol!

Thank you for the ask, @chloelapomme 💕💕💕

[junquisite]

Master’s Pet : Introduction + Preview

PAIRING : Mafia Leader! Seungwoo X Mafia Member!OC X Mafia Member! Seungyoun

GENRE : Mafia smut AU

WARNING : Mature content, mention of violence and firearms, implied sexual content.

further warning for each chapter would be provided.

Word Count : 1.8k

Han Seungwoo - the man who can fulfill all your requests but at a certain price. You just have to to know the right people and the not so right people and the certainly not right places to hang. Most people who have had Seungwoo do something for them have never met him. This is how he works.

There are three people through which you can ask him for help.

Kim Yohan - the man you can find in any high class parties or lounges - as long as there would be good food and good booze, you'll find him there.

Lee Hangyul - the one probably easiest to find. The club he runs is the biggest in Seoul, he's always there. You just need to know how to get his attention - either you must have a lot of money or a girl he wants. Place your best bet, he gets both.

Kim Wooseok - the hardest to get. You need to have an appointment to see him. Go to the hotel he runs, ask the front desk to see him. If you're lucky, you can see him in the same month.

The Coaescie Group, or more like the front for the mafia which owns both the hotel and club has the Owner as Kang Seungsik who manages the front of the mafia. The CEO who is loved by the public and feared by the people who wrong him. An apt representative of the Coaescie gang. The perfect personality for the public’s eye but the tattoo at his neck states otherwise.

The Coaescie gang - dealing mainly in drugs and assassinations - has more than a 100 people working under it, most of whom have never met more than 1 main gang member. One of the main 21 gang members.

The one at the top - Han Seungwoo. Most feared and most respected - a name known in the underground as an equal to god, you never wrong him, it'll always have its consequences. The leader of the gang.

His right hand man - Cho Seungyoun. The one through whom all messages to Seungwoo goes through. Specialises in close combat, uses his Glock and is equally familiar with knives. Been with Seungwoo since the start. Known as the "Sadistic Torturer" - can torture someone for days to get something out, success rate of 99% in extracting information.

His other jewel - Cha Jieun. A sniper user with a success rate of 100%. Equally strong in close combat and weapons, prefers knives, especially her trench knife. Is the youngest in the gang but third in lead after Seungyoun. Seungwoo picked her up from an alley a few years after he started. Had barely spoken more than three words with anyone. Known as the "Soulless Killer" - shows close to no remorse or expression when killing.

The gang members share one house which is well equipped with bulletproof windows and walls, a basement completely furnished with a shooting range and training rooms, another room containing all sorts of weapons and a floor even below holding the prisoner and torture cells. It was just them 21 members and a couple of trustable servants who were paid just enough to keep their mouth shut, and obviously their family’s life also depended on their secret keeping so.

There were a few unspoken rules in the house. You don't talk with Cha Jieun unless you absolutely have to. She remained secluded either in her own room or Seungwoo's. Seungyoun was the most approachable person in the house and you can talk to him about anything.

The biggest unspoken but followed rule was - you never question what Han Seungwoo does. Or with whom. So it was never questioned why Jieun was found more easily in his room or office then her own room. Why his office was off limits for everyone except Seungyoun. What relationship more than a simple gang leader and gang member, did Han Seungwoo and Cha Jieun shared. You don't question these things nor do you talk about them, at least in the house. No one could stop Hangyul’s mouth anyway.

The other thing is, after Han Seungwoo, you never question Cho Seungyoun about what he does no matter how readable his face is. Because he never shows what he's truly feeling - you can never trust Seungyoun’s facial expressions. And he’s the loyalest of all members - he had never gone against Seungwoo’s order even once, ever done anything that might be disliked by him. He was the epitome of loyalty. So no one but Hangyul, because he has zero fears, has ever called him out on his extremely apparent attraction to Cha Jieun. No one knows if it was his utmost loyalty to Seungwoo overpowering him or his potential fear from him that he never once acted on his possible feelings. Nor has he ever paid any heed to Hangyul’s extremely invasive questions and given him the satisfaction of letting him see any slip on Seungyoun’s facial features. He has denied any attraction to Cha Jiuen - all 11 times that Hangyul has asked him.

But wooseok was the smart one. He notices things that Hangyul the loud mouth doesn't. Like the way Seungyoun sometimes joins Jieun in the dining area at her table when she’s home and how caring his every action is. How his eyes linger a bit too long on Jieun whenever she sparsely is seen. How, whenever, Jieun stays too long in Seungwoo’s office, Seungyoun stays distracted and his eyes keep on wandering to that door. How he had seen Seungyoun, on multiple occasions, checking Jieun’s room when she is home but not in her room and sighing and looking longingly at Seungwoo’s room’s direction. He had seen it all. And he was sure Hangyul’s accusations actually hold some weightage. But he was not dumb enough to voice that. Wooseok was the third person to join the gang, after Seungyoun and in all this time he had never seen Seungyoun lose his temper. But he was close to betting that it would happen soon.

~

Seungyoun might go on his missions but he always has a few tasks fixed. Like how he only owns the keys to all the rooms of the house including the basement rooms so his first task every morning is to open those rooms. And how daily before sleeping he has to report all the things to Seungwoo. Seungwoo has told Seungyoun multiple times that he trusts him enough that he doesn't have to tell him every detail but Seungyoun does. He feels better after telling him and believes that the leader should know every detail - he was Seungwoo’s eyes and ears and the brain must always be aware of everything.

Nothing was out of the ordinary. He knocked on the office door and entered at the soft ‘come in’. Seungwoo was as usual sitting on his chair behind his desk, a file opened in front of him, a smile on his face as he looked at Seungyoun. Seungyoun had often wondered why Seungwoo didn't decide to establish himself as the face of the group when he had such a charming face himself but he never questioned it.

“Anything new?” was his first question as he looked at his side, one of the doors to his bedroom which was attached to his office slightly ajared and whistled lightly.

“Song Yuvin got busted and he needs us to hide his whole stash till then.”

“Didn't he tried to run off without paying us last time?” Seungwoo asked as he stared at Seungyoun, business face on and they both heard the bedroom door opening. None of them looked at it.

“He did. I have raised the price to double and the condition is that he has to pay 3/4th of it front up tomorrow. If he can, then we’ll actually do it. He’ll be meeting Yohan tomorrow.” Seungyoun finished and he finally saw who it was that walked out of the room.

Cha Jieun who walked from the bedroom to Seungwoo who was signing his hand for her and she  didn't even glance at Seungyoun, she went straight to Seungwoo and sat in his lap.

Seungwoo pushed his chair back slightly and adjusted her so that her face was hidden in his neck and he started running his fingers through her hair. 

“Anything else? I'm sure you can manage Yuvin.”

“Nothing Sir.” Seungyoun said stiffly and turned around.

“Seungyoun-ah” Seungwoo trailed off and he turned around and saw Jieun peeking at him too. This was new.

“Can you bring a glass of water for Jieun? I would ask the staff but no one is here now and I don't have any water in my office.” he said and Seungyoun nodded.

He was bringing the jar of water and the glass to the office and with gritted teeth, swore. It was not the first time something like this has happened - multiple times situations like this have arisen which had left him wondering if Seungwoo knew everything and was slowly testing him. Testing his breaking point because lately it feels like the scene he walks in on or witnesses keeps on worsening.

Last time he came to his office, everything was normal and Seungwoo was behind his desk like always. Except after staying in the office for a few minutes he heard someone choking and finally looked down at the desk - the slight gap between the desk and floor showing small feets meaning someone was under the desk on the other side. When he looked up at Seungwoo, he just smirked at him. Seungyoun had spent half an hour at the training room that night after that.

He knocked on the door and instead of Seungwoo’s deep voice, Jieun’s soft voice asked him to come in. and he finally took in her sight after a few days - she was on a mission for the past 4 days. She still looked as good as ever - although her arm had a bandage on which meant a sniper kill turned into more during the mission. He wanted to ask her how it went but she looked tired so he decided to leave it till the next time he sees her, preferably in the dining hall.

She took the glass of water from him and thanked him softly and he took that time to scan her for any other injury she might have and that's when he saw it. She was wearing a huge shirt, probably Seungwoo’s, and he was hoping there were shorts underneath it. But when she raised her hand to drink water and the shirt went up, it was not a sight of shorts that greeted his eyes but bruises. Thighs littered with small bruises and bite marks and that was not all - there were hand prints and grip marks. He really did not wanted to dwell on that any more than necessary so he was about to leave when Seungwoo came out of the bedroom and said, “aah Seungyoun-ah! Whenever you go outside can you drop by some pharmacy and buy some ointment? Jieun bruises easily.”

Seungyoun really didn't had to know that. And he really didn't wanted to hear it from Seugnwoo.

[ren1327]

Sweater Weather ch.5

Ben and Kenji watched Bumpy as she slept on Ben’s lap, Carmen sitting next to him to stroke her flank as she read her new manga, brown eyes scanning over each detail of the art.

Kenji had sat on the sofa and Ben flush against him, acting as the comfortable partner and lover.

But Ben couldn’t help but feel how comfortable Kenji was. How well he fit to his side. How warm this image of them with a dog and his sister relaxing in the living room was. He leaned his head back and Kenji looked away from the movie to nuzzle in his hair.

Ben wanted this to real if only to feel the comfort and trust in that single moment.

“Dinner’s ready.” Candy said as she came in, pausing to look at them and smile.

Bumpy yipped and stood, stretching before she followed Candy to her new bowl in the corner of the dining room on a soft rug.

Ben got up and Kenji followed, Carmen calling she wanted to finish the next few pages.

Kenji pulled out Ben’s chair and smiled when he sat down with a soft thank you.

Once Carmen was seated, Kenji sat between where Kosei would sit at the head and Ben.

Candy brought out a savory casserole with meat, cheese, tortillas and chili. She then placed down bowls of red rice, refried beans, chips, red and green salsa and cabbage.

“Enchilada casserole!” Carmen said excitedly, then looked at Ben from across the table. “It’s Kenji’s favorite!”

Kenji nodded and was happy to help Ben fill his plate.

Once he had a substantial amount of everything, Ben noticed they were watching him. He then saw that they were holding hands.

“Are you comfortable with grace, Ben?” Candy asked.

“I…yes ma’am.” He said and took Kenji’s and Carmen’s hands.

The family closed their eyes and he noticed only Candy and Kenji bowed their heads. He quickly closed his own eyes as Candy prayed outload.

“Dear provider and father above, thank you for reuniting our family this winter. Thank you for the safe journey of my son and our transition into our new home. Thank you for blessing us with Ben and Bumpy. And thank you for giving us so much more to be thankful for and love. And we say”

“Amen.” She and her family chorused.

Ben lowered his hands and smiled, blushing as he held back tears.

“Ben?!” Carmen asked and Ben quickly wiped his cheeks.

“Sorry. Sorry. It’s just been a while since I’ve prayed.”

“We don’t expect you to be obligated to, Honey.” Candy said and Kosei nodded.

“How you express or don’t express your faith is up to you. But thank you for joining our thanks.” Kosei said gently.

“Does your family have a faith?”

“I uh, I think we were Jewish.” He said.

“Think you were?” Kosei asked.

“Um, my mom was the religious one and um…my Uncle got work overseas so it’s uh…just been me.” He said.

“What?”

“I didn’t want to stress my uncle out and he knew I was with friends and I haven’t…I haven't even told him about Kenji to be honest. It’s been so long and I…”

“Oh, Sweetie.” Candy whispered. “and your mother—”

“Mom.” Kenji said and she covered her mouth in surprised.

Kosei sighed softly as Carmen looked from her parents to Ben, slowly putting the pieces together.

“Oh, Ben. I'm sorry…” She whispered.

“It’s okay. She’s with my dad and I know if I work hard, I can make them proud.” He said, sounding robotic at this point.

“Well, if it’s not too candid…You always have a place in this family. Even as a friend.” Kosei said and Ben smiled, wiping his cheeks again.

“I’m sorry. I made dinner awkward.”

Kenji put a hand on his and look him in the eye. “Never be sorry for expressing how you feel.”

Ben nodded as he looked down at his food. He took a bite…

And coughed hard, grabbing a napkin and holding it to his running nose and burning mouth.

“Oh my gosh!” Carmen said and gave Ben his water. “Kenji! Did you give him the green salsa?!”

“What? It’s not that hot?” Kenji said, grabbing his own napkin for Ben to switch out.

“Mijo, you’ve been eating jalapenos since you were in diapers! Mamita, get him some of the banana milk.” She said.

Carmen quickly got up and returned, twisting open a school cafeteria looking yellow bottle of milk and handing it to Ben, who sipped it slowly, panting softly as he finished it. He then whirled on his pretend boyfriend.

“You’re not human!” He said to Kenji, who was trying to hold back his laughter.

“Stop…stop laughing…” Carmen said, placing a hand over her mouth to hide her own smile.

“I reacted horribly the first time I had the green salsa too, Ben.” Kosei said. “I was sweating while pretending I wasn’t affected, then got sick later.”

“I told you not to put so much. You need to build up to that amount!” Candy said and Ben laughed imaging such a regal looking man sweating and red faced.

“Okay. Stay away from the green sauce.” Ben said. “I’ll remember for next time.”

He took a bite of the casserole and nearly melted.

“Wow…”

“One of the perks of my marriage.” Kosei joked, making Candy huff and roll her eyes with a smile.

“One of many, I hope.” She said.

Kosei took her hand. “Too many to count.”

“Ew. Mom. Dad.”

“Oh, they get to flirt, but us older folk don’t?” She asked her daughter, who giggled.

“So!” Carmen said, gaining everyone’s attention. “How did you two meet?”

“Online.”

“Friends.”

Ben and Kenji looked at each other and Kenji stuttered.

“W-well, we met through friends online…”

Ben put his hand over Kenji’s, smiling at him with steely eyes. Kenji’s mouth shut as Ben hunched his shoulders.

“Its kind of embarrassing really.” He started. “You see, he was video chatting with Sammy. And Sammy and I have been friends for so long…we were comfortable around each other. So one day, while Yaz was at a retreat, I had gotten out of the shower and was only in my boxer briefs because I forgot my clothes in my room.”

Carmen and Kosei looked scandalized as Candy covered her mouth.

Ben blushed as if it were true as he continued. “So, being so comfortable with Sammy, I was drying my hair as I walked nearly naked past her and Kenji unfortunately got an eyeful of my pale chicken legs. The scream I let out.”

Kenji chuckled just imagining the scene.

“And then I asked him for his number.” Kenji said with a shrug.

Candy laughed. “That sounds very like you, Kenji.”

“Texting Ben and calling him leveled me down. Made me want to come back just to…” He paused and shook his head, interlacing his fingers with Ben.

“He makes me happy.”

“So you two are still new to a lot of things.” Candy said. “Despite talking for three months.”

“Yeah.” Ben said and smiled at Kenji, almost genuinely. “He’s way taller than I expected.”

“But you’re just as cute.” Kenji said, making Ben blush deeply.

“Aw~!” Carmen cooed and Kosei scoffed at his daughter.

“Now, now.” He said, then turned to the boys. “Ben, I never asked. Do you prefer a separate room?”

“Excuse me?”

“Dad!”

“We understand how couples are and respect how you express your love.” Candy said. “As long as you’re safe. However, if you’ve only started being together…”

“Stop, stop this now.” Kenji said.

“I’ll be okay with Kenji.” Ben said with a nod. “He takes really great care of me and respects my wishes.”

Kosei nodded in approval of his son. “I am very happy to hear so.”

“Ben, I have to ask because it’s been bothering me…what’s that scar on your upper arm?” Candy asked.

Ben looked at the jagged scar on his left bicep. He covered it.

“It’s…from an old relationship.”

Carmen gasped and Kosei placed his glass down, eyes hard as he looked at Ben. Kenji squeezed his hand.

“What?”

“It was way before I met Kenji.” Ben said. “And I never brought it up because…”

“No, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” Candy whispered.

“It’s fine. He’s…” He took a deep breath. “He’s gone and I’m far, far away from him.”

Kenji pulled Ben’s hand to rest on his chest. “Ben…don’t be scared to tell me things. I won’t judge you, ever.”

Ben smiled and kissed Kenji’s cheek.

“Thank you. All of you.”

 Ben sat on the king sized Ben in Kenji’s room.

It was decorated in shades of red and gray, as opposed to the white and blue outside. He was dressed in an old t-shirt and pajama pants, Kenji showering.

The room was very…sparse.

It had rich dark wood furniture, plush latte colored carpet and pale pastel yellow walls that could be white in different light. Rich strawberry red bedspread and rugs and grey curtains and armchairs next to a white brick fireplace with a glass guard. There was a desk, a small table next to the large window with the armchairs next to the fireplace and with another tall, small surfaced table. The bed was in the middle of the back wall, two nightstands holding touch lamps and piled with soft velvety red and grey pillows overstuffed, but comfortable enough to leave on when going to sleep.

Bumpy snored from her plush pet bed near the heating vent, exhausted from the busy day she had.

Ben felt himself already getting sleepy as he read one of the books Yaz had bought him as an early Christmas gift. He looked at his phone

He text Sammy.

B: I told them about J

S: WHAT?!?!?! Ben, you didn’t have to!

B: It felt right. I trust Kenji.

S: Okay. How do you feel?

B: A little better tbh Like Like I have some more eyes looking over my shoulders to watch my back Idk

S: Kenji would kick his ass into next year! I WOULD TOO!

B: Thanks, Sammy. We’re heading off to the hotel tomorrow. I’ll send you some pictures.

S: Be safe! Yaz said to say she misses you.

B: I miss you too. Love you both.

S: <3

 Kenji came in dressed in flannel pajamas and looked at Ben, who was still curled up on the right side with his book.

“Um…”

“It’s okay. You’re probably cold.” Ben said, pretending to read his book as Kenji draped the damp towel over the back of his desk chair.

“Are you cold?” He asked.

Ben ducked his head a bit, not wanting to make a awkward situation more so.

Kenji reached into his bag and pulled out the soft knitted blue sweater he had worn to dinner. He held it out to Ben.

Ben blinked and suddenly, Kenji blushed.

“Sorry! I’ll get you a clean one or—”

“I’ll take it.” Ben said, taking it from his hands and pulling it over his shirt.

He blushed as he smelled Kenji’s cologne on the collar and wrists. Kenji got in bed next to him.

“What are you reading?” He asked Ben.

“A sequel series of this young adult…um…It’s a little complicated, but it focuses on my favorite characters from the first series.”

“Read a bit to me?”

“You wouldn’t understand it.” Ben said. “But if you want me too, I can explain plot details and stuff...”

“Okay.” Ben said and found where he had paused. “Magnus saw hundreds of masked people in elaborate costumes dancing in unison, and around them was music that could be seen as well as heard. As if ripped from a black-and-white sheet of paper and turned into bright, living shapes, the notes floated in the air, drifting along currents of musical lines and wrapping around the glittering masks and elaborate hair of the dancers. Along the ceiling, the constellations were moving; no, they were the orchestra…”

He noticed Kenji had relaxed and was dozing off, soft snores floating from him. Ben placed his bookmark inside the page and placed it on the nightstand. He touched the lamp, and the room went dark.

Kenji wiggled closer and hugged him loosely around the waist.

He smiled and pretended this was his life, with a loving boyfriend and his family and safe and loved—

“Sorry…Brooklynn…” Kenji groaned and Ben froze. He pulled away and rolled over, leaving Ben cold and feeling empty.

[insanityclause]

Betrayal seems to be the word of the moment, particularly in politics. It’s therefore rather refreshing that for a writer as political as Pinter, his most well-known play is all about the personal.

Clocking in at barely 90 mins, it’s a succinct and claustrophobic portrayal of three lives in crisis – with no obvious resolution.

The play starts at the point where two now-estranged lovers are looking back on their seven-year affair, their sparse dialogue laced with tenderness and regret. Literary agent Jerry (Charlie Cox), proud of how well they covered up their dalliance, is mortified to discover that gallery owner Emma (Zawe Ashton) has confessed all to her publisher husband Robert (Tom Hiddleston). Not only that, her husband has known for years, and seems unruffled – possibly because he has been staunchly unfaithful himself. The scenes tick backwards, tracing the betrayal from its most intense to the drunken night that led to its inception. The characters wrestle with boredom, guilt, desire and repression, with thwarted career aspirations and faltering relationships marking every step.

For anyone mourning the cancellation of Daredevil, take comfort – Cox has been freed up to play a more subdued but no less profound role than that of Matt Murdock, and his sexual rapport with Ashton, who brilliantly walks the line between restraint and longing, crackles with electricity.

For those who last saw Tom Hiddleston tread the boards as Hamlet or Coriolanus, this is a world away from Shakespeare. The great triumph of Pinter seems to be his ability to capture how much English people excel at talking about nothing at great length, with an unspoken, but palpable sense of dysfunction and violence never far from the surface. Hiddleston’s Robert captures this brilliantly; one memorable lunch scene, where Jerry and his best friend mingle in the wake of Robert having guessed the details of his wife’s antics, shows the latter talking rather forcefully about an uneventful trip to Torcello, his face flushing red as he shouts at the waiter to bring more wine. Jerry, unawares, looks on in bemusement.

This seems to be Hiddleston’s forte. Much like The Deep Blue Sea’s Freddie Page and The Night Manager’s Jonathan Pine, Robert occupies that very English third space, one where people can only go so deep before they shut off to the emotional needs of those closest to them. For Pine, the hotel worker-turned-spy, this is his great strength. For Robert, it turns out to be his undoing. For his wife and best friend, the many-layered betrayal at the heart of the story is their salvation, even if it means that in an emotional sense, they both end up alone.

Swift, intimate, and deeply uncomfortable, this is essential viewing for 2019. I never thought I’d root for the philanderers.

Betrayal plays at the Harold Pinter theatre in London until 1st June.

[antivanruffles]

Perfect

For @ellorgast who donated to the Rainbow Railroad during my fic drive! I’m sorry this is so late, but I hope you enjoy U/M Ballroom!Verse Honeymoon Shenanigans! 

Also up on AO3, and many thanks to @antivanonmytongue for help!

Edmond rubbed his temple where a pounding headache was starting to flair to life. Heaving a tired sigh, he pulled his out his cellphone and scrolled his contacts until he found the one he wanted. Selecting the name, he put the phone up to his ear as it rang. It was oddly tinny and hollow to his ears. 

As Edmond waited for them to pick up, he paced where he stood in front of the Champ de Mars, with the lush green lawns and flowering plants on full display while the Eiffel Tower rose behind them, completing the picturesque scene. The sun was starting to dip toward the skyline, setting the sky on fire with streaks of orange and red and pink, when a familiar voice finally picked up the phone.

“Edmond?” Kam sounded rightfully confused. “Is something wrong?” 

“I have lost my wife.” Edmond sighed again and wondered how this had all gone so wrong. 

***

The day that Edmond and Sylvia wed was as beautiful and perfect as a postcard. Sylvia spent months planning it down the smallest detail, and all of her diligence had paid off. 

In the end the whole affair was a lot grander than Edmond had expected, but that was what happened when one was a marrying a Lord’s daughter. The final guest list was shockingly large and full of many notable names. It was a little unnerving knowing that royals would be attending his wedding, but all in all it was good seeing as Edmond’s side was rather sparse. 

The estate gardens were in full bloom, awash with a riot of colors and the air full of the heady scent of roses. Perfect for the reception. The church they had chosen was done up in shades of shining silver and blushing pink. 

Edmond’s tuxedo had been perfectly tailored and Syliva had been like a dream come true in layers of taffeta and tulle. Edmond had never been happier in his life as they had danced late into the night. Everyone and everything else forgotten for the brief, perfect moment. 

Unfortunately the perfection of that day did not translate to their honeymoon. It all started with arrival at their lodgings in Paris. 

The place was a quiet little inn, romantic and private, and hidden away from the more touristy areas. Edmond knew it would be the perfect place to spend their honeymoon. The only problem was that there had been a mix-up with the reservation, they had gotten the dates wrong. After a back and forth with the manager, who apologized profusely for the inconvenience and offered to comp them a champagne breakfast for the duration of their stay, he offered them the only room available. 

With a resigned sigh, Edmond turned to Sylvia. Room keys in hand.

“How much of that did you understand?” he asked. Sylvia’s French was passable, and she was improving leaps and bounds every day, but she wasn’t quite fluent yet. 

“Enough. I did hear the word champagne though!” She smiled sweetly, as bright and happy as ever, and that helped to ease some of the tension coiling inside Edmond. 

He knew their room would be nice enough, but it wouldn’t be the honeymoon suite he had arranged for with rose petals and candles and a bottle of wine. Unfortunately there was little he could do about it at the moment. Not if they actually wanted a room for the night. 

They made their way to the room with their luggage in tow. The inn was everything Edmond thought it would be, and that was something good at least. Sylvia appeared enamored with it, marveling the paintings on the walls as they went, gushing over the brightly colored geraniums visible in the window boxes. 

There was a particularly lovely red geranium outside the window across from their door, and just beyond that was a small, well tended garden with a rainbow of roses. Edmond decided to take that as a good sign as he opened the door to their room and stepped inside. 

At a glance everything appeared in perfect order, meticulously clean, with a view of an ivy covered wall -- not the view of the Eiffel Tower he had been hoping for, but pretty nonetheless. The furniture was antique and extremely well cared for, the bedding looked plush with stacks of gold tasseled throw pillows and burgundy accents. 

Although that was where the problem with the room lie: the bed. Or rather the beds. They had been given a double. Edmond sat down their bags and started muttering to himself. Sylvia entered behind him and shut the door with a faint click. Turning around to fully take in the room, she started giggling. 

“It’s sweet, like they used to do in old television shows.” She looked up at Edmond, trying to smother down her laughter. It wasn’t working. 

“Yes, perfect for a honeymoon, hm?” 

“We can always share,” Sylvia said, looping her arms around his waist. She tilted her head back to look at him. “I don’t take up much space, and besides it’ll be cozy. Nothing wrong with cozy.” 

She had him there, and so Edmond once again did his best to shove aside his disappointment with the mix-up. He wrapped his arms around her, and drew her closer. 

“You are right, of course” he said. “It is only that I had things planned a certain way. Now they are not going as planned.” 

“It’s all right, it can be like adventure we figure out as we go.” She grinned widely, eyes sparkling as one cheek dimpled. 

“And you are right again.” He dipped his head, intending to kiss his new bride when there came a knock at the door. Edmond untangled himself from Sylvia and answered it. A young woman from the front desk held up an ice bucket with a chilling bottle of champagne, and two flutes. 

“Compliments of the manager,” she said and handed the items off. 

“Thank you.” Edmond nodded kindly -- it wasn’t her fault she had interrupted them after all -- and kicked the door shut. He turned back to Sylvia. “Well, at least now you have your champagne.” 

***

After enjoying their champagne they settled into their room before deciding to have a meal at a quaint cafe near the inn. Their meal was delicious, their service attentive, and of course Edmond’s dining companion was without compare. It appeared things were finally looking up despite the earlier headaches, and Edmond intended to put it all behind him and fully enjoy his honeymoon. 

Unfortunately their bad luck soon reasserted itself. The strap on Sylvia’s shoe broke on their way back, and she twisted her ankle. They iced it, and though the swelling wasn’t too bad, it was quite tender. Because of that they spent their first night in Paris in their separate beds as Sylvia propped up her ankle and refused to even put a sheet over it. 

By morning Edmond was on his guard against more ill fortune. It was of little consequence. Sylvia’s ankle meant their itinerary must be put on hold. 

“I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?” She was pouting, and that would never do. He dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

“It is hardly your fault the strap broke.”

“But now I’m stuck here for the day instead of sightseeing.” 

“Well, we can spend the day drinking champagne in the garden. That doesn’t sound too bad, does it? If we keep ice on your ankle, I’m sure it will be better tomorrow.”

That pacified Sylvia for the meantime, and once again she was all smiles. A marked improvement over the pouting. With a quick call to the front desk to arrange their day, they made their way to sit in the small gazebo in the gardens.

Truly, it wasn’t a terrible way to spend their day. Even if it wasn’t what had been planned. Although as they sat in the sunshine filtering through the ivy canopy Edmond decided he would make new plans. Something extra special to make up for the disastrous start to their honeymoon. 

***

“What do you mean you lost your wife?” Kam sounded incredulous. 

“He lost Sylvia?!” Mina cried before there was an odd muffled sound, almost like Kam was covering the phone.

Edmond listened to the sound of muted rustling of something brushing against the mouthpiece, and hissed words he couldn’t quite make out. Now worried, Edmond wondered if he should try to call someone to check on Kam. Before he could act Mina’s voice sounded clearly in his ear. 

“Edmond, what’s wrong?” Her voice was soft with concern, and as earnest as always. So Edmond relayed the mishaps that had befallen them since arriving in Paris, plus his current predicament. 

“Her ankle was finally better, so I sent her to the shops for a bit while I arranged for a surprise picnic in Champ de Mars. It was going to be so romantic with the sun setting as they turned on the lights on the Eiffel Tower. But now I am here, the sun is nearly set, our food is spoiling, and she will not answer her phone!”

“She probably got waylaid shopping, it is Sylvia after all. Or she forgot to charge her phone. I wouldn’t worry too much yet.” 

“That does me no good, Mina. The surprise is ruined and I am worried regardless.” 

“Gimme a second. Here’s Kam back.” The phone went quiet again, but it no longer sounded like Kam was being accosted. 

“What’s going on?” Edmond asked.

“Hell if I know, she just bolted from the room.” Kam snorted. “She’s right though, you shouldn’t worry. There are plenty of perfectly plausible reasons why Sylvia might be running late.” 

“I know that. It’s only that--” It was only that Sylvia had spent all of her time and attention on the wedding, and it had been beyond perfect. In every way. Edmond had imagined the honeymoon being just as wonderful. Only Edmond wasn’t sure how to explain that to Kam without sounding like a complete sap. 

“Ah ha!” Mina’s triumph cry saved him from having to try at all. 

“What was that?”

“Putting you on speaker,” Kam said. 

“What is it?” Edmond asked.

“Well, it was a combination of things. She did get sidetracked shopping, then she dropped off her things at the hotel, and then she got a little turned around trying to find the park.” 

“How do you know all of that?!” Edmond stopped his pacing and pulled the phone the away from his ear to glare at it. 

“It’s Sylvia, she never has her ringer on. She didn’t hear you calling or texting.” 

“Then how did you get hold of her?” Kam sounded just as incredulous as Edmond felt. 

“I commented on her newest Instagram post asking her to DM me ASAP. Come on, it’s totally obvious. I’m surprised you two didn’t think of it.” Mina sounded so nonchalant, as if she had just told them the time of day. 

“Mina, you know I’m old and Edmond is technology impaired. Neither of us have any clue what you just said.” 

“It doesn’t matter. Sylvia will be there shortly, I promise.” 

“Right,” Kam drug out the word. 

“Don’t give me that look, Kam. It’s fine. They’ll be fine. I think at this point it’s a proven fact all of you Ryan men, be they blood or adopted, are all cursed to have bad honeymoons.” 

“That’s not tru--”

“It is!” Mina cut him off. “Jaden and Ramona almost got divorced as soon as they eloped. Neven nearly broke an ankle, which isn’t just bad luck for him but absolutely the work of a curse! And don’t even get me started on ours.”

“Our honeymoon was mother nature’s fault, not mine!”

“Yes it was, because you’re a Ryan! Now poor Edmond is suffering the same fate because you decided to adopt him.” Mina’s voice got closer to the phone. “Don’t worry, Edmond, it’ll work out in the end.”

“Perhaps this was a bad idea….” Edmond trailed off, wondering if Mina was right. Maybe everything was destined to go wrong no matter how hard he tried?

“Edmond?” Kam’s voice sounded closer, more clear, and Edmond guessed he had been taken off speaker. “Are you all right?” 

“I think so.” Edmond sank down on the low wall lining the entry to the park, shoulders sagging. 

For a brief moment he entertained the idea of fleeing Paris before he further incurred the curse’s wrath. He imagined grabbing Sylvia’s hand the moment she turned up, dragging her back to their room and packing their things before it was even full dark. 

“There’s not a curse, you know. Mina is just off her rocker.” 

“I HEARD THAT!” Mina cried in the background. 

“She does make a good point, however,” Edmond said. 

“She does not. Even if she did, what difference does it make? So the honeymoons are shit. Jaden and Romona are still happily married, bickering and making up as the wind changes. Neven has full use of all of his limbs. And Mina and I were not blown away by a hurricane in Miami. Now it’s all happy marriages and good times.” 

“ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT, BABE!?” 

“Do you wish you had married Anton instead?” Kam yelled back.  

“OH MY GOD! EW!” 

Despite himself Edmond cracked a smile at their antics. Kam was right, everyone was happy now. Things were good. Life was good. That was what was important. 

“Look--” Kam started but Edmond cut him off when he caught sight of a familiar head of blonde hair. 

“She’s here. We’ll talk later, yes?” 

“Yeah, mate. Go enjoy time with your wife.” 

“You too,” Edmond said laughingly as he hung up. He managed to get his phone into his pocket just before the whirling dervish that was his wife slammed into his side. It was a good thing there was no one around to comment on such an unladylike demonstration. 

“I’m so sorry! I completely lost track of time so I didn’t even think to check my mobile until I got the notification from Mina and she said you were worried.” 

“It’s all right.” Edmond wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and rested his cheek against the top of her head. 

“It’s not all right! I didn’t mean to worry you and I’m sorry I keep ruining things--”

“You haven’t ruined anything.” He didn’t want to tell her that he believed Mina when she said they were cursed, because it sounded crazy in his own head. And yet…

“What was your surprise anyway?” Sylvia pulled back in order to look him in the eyes. Her eyes were shining with curiosity, bright and blue. 

“A picnic,” he said as he started to turn her around. The lights on the Eiffel Tower were just starting to burst into life, the sky turning to deep navy while the horizon beyond still glowed a brilliant pink. “And that.” 

“Oh, it���s beautiful!” They stood together watching the lights, Sylvia resting her back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. “This is perfect, Edmond.” 

“Are you sure? There was supposed to be a picnic under the trees with all your favorites and chilled champagne.” He pointed to the blanket near them, and a wicker basket sat atop it. “I fear now everything is less than perfect. It seems nothing has gone according to plan.”

“So?” she asked with a shrug as she turned to face him. 

“So?” Edmond frowned at her. “I wanted this to be everything you deserve. I tried to make it absolutely perfect, and now everything has gone wrong in some way.” 

“It is perfect, Edmond.” She glanced back at the Eiffel Tower. “We’re in Paris and I’m with you and we’re married. If that isn’t perfection I don’t know what is.” 

Edmond knew she truly believed it was perfect, and how he loved her for that. “I think the only thing here that is perfect is you.”

“That’s not true!” Sylvia giggled, her cheeks growing dark. “I forgot the time and got lost on my way here. I’m hardly perfect.” 

“Doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. “To me you are.” 

Sylvia didn’t hesitate before lifting up onto her toes to kiss him. They stayed together a moment, her arms around his neck, and his circling her waist. Eventually Edmond withdrew and offered her his hand with a slight bow.

“Will you dance with me?” 

“There’s no music,” she laughed. 

“So?” He shrugged. “We are young and in love and in Paris. What else are we supposed to do but dance?” 

With a glowing smile Sylvia slipped her hand into his, and together they fell into a slow waltz on the sidewalk in front of the Champ de Mars, bathed in the light from the streetlamps. They danced until dawn, completely lost to the world, before finally retreating to their inn and the waiting champagne breakfast. 

It was utterly perfect. 

[tomhiddleslove]

4YE Reviews: Betrayal Lands In Triumph

- By Maddy Fry.

"Betrayal seems to be the word of the moment, particularly in politics. It’s therefore rather refreshing that for a writer as political as Pinter, his most well-known play is all about the personal.

Clocking in at barely 90 mins, it’s a succinct and claustrophobic portrayal of three lives in crisis – with no obvious resolution.

The play starts at the point where two now-estranged lovers are looking back on their seven-year affair, their sparse dialogue laced with tenderness and regret. Literary agent Jerry (Charlie Cox), proud of how well they covered up their dalliance, is mortified to discover that gallery owner Emma (Zawe Ashton) has confessed all to her publisher husband Robert (Tom Hiddleston). Not only that, her husband has known for years, and seems unruffled – possibly because he has been staunchly unfaithful himself. The scenes tick backwards, tracing the betrayal from its most intense to the drunken night that led to its inception. The characters wrestle with boredom, guilt, desire and repression, with thwarted career aspirations and faltering relationships marking every step.

For anyone mourning the cancellation of Daredevil, take comfort – Cox has been freed up to play a more subdued but no less profound role than that of Matt Murdock, and his sexual rapport with Ashton, who brilliantly walks the line between restraint and longing, crackles with electricity.

For those who last saw Tom Hiddleston tread the boards as Hamlet or Coriolanus, this is a world away from Shakespeare. The great triumph of Pinter seems to be his ability to capture how much English people excel at talking about nothing at great length, with an unspoken, but palpable sense of dysfunction and violence never far from the surface. Hiddleston’s Robert captures this brilliantly; one memorable lunch scene, where Jerry and his best friend mingle in the wake of Robert having guessed the details of his wife’s antics, shows the latter talking rather forcefully about an uneventful trip to Torcello, his face flushing red as he shouts at the waiter to bring more wine. Jerry, unawares, looks on in bemusement.

This seems to be Hiddleston’s forte. Much like The Deep Blue Sea’s Freddie Page and The Night Manager’s Jonathan Pine, Robert occupies that very English third space, one where people can only go so deep before they shut off to the emotional needs of those closest to them. For Pine, the hotel worker-turned-spy, this is his great strength. For Robert, it turns out to be his undoing. For his wife and best friend, the many-layered betrayal at the heart of the story is their salvation, even if it means that in an emotional sense, they both end up alone.

Swift, intimate, and deeply uncomfortable, this is essential viewing for 2019. I never thought I’d root for the philanderers.

Betrayal plays at the Harold Pinter theatre in London until 1st June."

[idontlikesummer]

Japan Trip 2018 (Kansai)

Back from Japan again!

This time I went with my family went to Kansai!!

There were so many things we did in the span of 10 days that everything had passed by in almost a blur. The entire vacation was quite thrilling because we landed in Japan right when the flooding was taking place in Osaka. We stayed at my hometown in Nagano for about three days, and by the time we reached Kansai, most of the flooding had disappeared!

As with the previous travel post, I took pictures of almost EVERYTHING I saw. Some of my brother’s and dad’s photos will be in this log, and I will highlight them accordingly!

Please enjoy!! :’D

(Warnings: Lots of photos of pretty things, my sparse commentary and my occasional photobombing totoro)

Day 1: Travel to Nagano

ACK. I ate salted salmon with rice on the plane but everything was shaking and I forgot to take a picture. 

We arrived in Japan but I could only take a photo from the middle seat! The ride was crazy – the pilot said there would be clear skies but the rain was near torrential so the landing had a lot of drops. The woman behind me screamed, so naturally I, being terrible with turbulence, screamed as well. 

The floor was wet so the plane skidded a little when we landed!

NARITA EXPRESS to Tokyo station. Unlike the previous two trips, we managed to be on time for the train, so we didn’t have time to stop by the Starbucks ;w;

I napped throughout the flight since I didn’t manage to sleep a wink during the plane ride, therefore missing most of the awesome view. Totoro’s enjoying it in my stead but he’s separated from his natural habitat by a glass panel.

We reached Tokyo Station and went past GranSta!

There was an AI robot called Pepper greeting us there! This is my first time seeing an AI, but I didn’t have much time to find out what he was used for

Eventually, we stopped by Beer Hall to eat (this restaurant was located right next to Character Street!) I tried their mentaiko spaghetti and I was blown away by how light and delicious it was! This is something I can eat two helpings of before I become full!

Time to go to Daimaru, the place I can’t afford unless I’m with my parents. We bought Tops cake from there before heading off to my grandparents’ house!

I’M LEAVING TOKYO STATION AND I DIDN’T EVEN EXPLORE HALF OF IT. (Spoiler alert: I’ll be back here a few days later)

My brother ate some Shumais we bought from Tokyo station along the ride! I dozed off because the seats in the bullet train are better than my bed

Dropped off at Sakudaira! Since we were surrounded by mountains the weather was freezing despite it being mid-summer. Even though it’s only been a year I missed this place so much

COUNTRY ROAAAD TAKE ME HOOOME to the PLAACE I BELOOONG 

(the car ride back to my grandparents’ home  was super enjoyable since my brother kept blasting 70s music that my parents love)

On the way we stopped by a Seven Eleven! I got carried away with buying the cup noodles (Santouka and Ippudou) since they only cost 4USD while they would have caused 18 USD if you ate them in a restaurant in Singapore!

[First photo by my brother] Home away from home I missed you so. Most of what we had to do for the next few days were family stuff that I won’t go into detail about. But basically we had a whole lot of relatives to greet and a ceremony to prepare for! So there was a lot to do

View from my grandmother’s garden!! I love the mountains and I wish I could plant one where I live. I hope the tectonic plates in Singapore converge in five years

[Last photo by my brother] Like a good girl, I slacked off from cleaning duty to walk around the neighbourhood. This place always calms me somehow. If I lived here permanently I would probably want to walk at least twice a week! Here are some of the stuff that I photographed. I’ve always associated this place with good things and I feel like I go through some sort of emotional and spiritual cleansing each time I come here.

Here’s what we ate for dinner [photo by my brother]! Loads of protein and no carbohydrates. The chicken in particular was really nice and it was from this restaurant called Big Ben!

[First photo by my brother] Since my grandparents’ house was pretty much completely occupied, we stayed at our uncles’ place instead! It was so huge, almost like a Ryokan, and could afford at least 3 guest rooms. I can’t believe they live in something so grand it’s like a hotel

Day 2: Nagano

Honestly I live in an apartment so for this entire section to be the guest room just blows me away. IT’S HUGE.

We went back to my grandparents’ house for breakfast and ate matsutake  gohan with fish! I’ve always loved eating cheap and healthy food. The fried eggplant was probably the best eggplant dish I ever ate! Countryside food is so different from Tokyo food

Ate this for lunch during the ceremony! It was really filling!!

We had more time in the afternoon so I went to scale one of the mountains to a satisfying height!

Our grandmother came to join us in the afternoon, and before we knew it, it was dinner time and many of our relatives joined us with their food! [photo by my brother] It felt a lot like the Summer Wars sort of dinner gatherings, where everyone just sat along a long table and drank alcohol while chatting

We went back to my uncle’s place and our aunt made us mango pudding! She’s a really good cook.

Day 3: Nagano

The next morning she gave us cherries and grapefruit! Today we would have to leave her house for good, and it makes me a little sad. But I hope to return one day!

The next day was a day of loafing around at my grandparents’ place, but we did find some goodies! Namely my dad’s baby photos and we teased him relentlessly about it. We also tried the Ippudou and Santouka noodles and it was really good! The soup tasted just like the way it did in the restaurant!

Later in the afternoon, we went to a friend’s house! I haven’t been here for five years so it was really nostalgic to come back here! It always had a really western-decorated interior which I was fond of.

We had really delicious cake! The cream was super fresh and sweet *p*

It was blueberry season so we went to pick some blueberries from the garden! The one I picked was pretty but sour lmao. I have no green thumb

Mini eggplant! Too young to eat!

These were leeks!

Some of the flowers I really liked in the garden!

Good old chimney I always know where I stand with you

After that, we came by this area to buy our train tickets for Ise! [First photo by my brother]. I used to eat at a ramen shop here nearly ten years ago. I’m amazed how it’s been so long and everything still looks the same!

EON MALL I MISSED YOU SO [Photo by my brother]

Even the stores are the same as five years ago!! I’m on a nostalgia trip

They ACTUALLY sell uniform sweaters here! I really wanted to buy the red one but they were so expensive!! I will reserve my gakuen dreams for another day

Each time I step foot into a supermarket I realize how fortunate I am that I don’t live here, because I’d probably be bankrupt within the first week or so from attempting to buy half the stuff in the market. I mean, LOOK AT THAT BEEF.

Obon festival lanterns!

I’ve been eating at this Yakiniku house all the time since I was a kid. Until recently, I haven’t been able to return to the village, so I did miss this place a lot. Up until today it has the best yakiniku I’ve ever eaten ;w; For the curious it’s called Chikumaya (千曲屋)!

I’d probably make it a point to come by here every now and then! My favourite beef was the Karubi beef!

Cozy Corner cake for supper!! I was so full that when I lay down on my back, I felt like a turtle

That night I saw a starry sky for the first time in my life!!

[photo taken by my brother]. The phone camera quality does the scene no justice. But it was REALLY amazing, since all around, the silhouettes of the houses and mountains were actually blacker than the night sky. There were so many stars that the sky seemed more GREY than anything. The clouds also parted in a way that almost made it seem like there was a galaxy in the sky.

We counted loads of constellations, including Virgo, the Summer triangle, and we also probably saw Mars, Jupiter and Mercury or Venus. My brother studied astrology as a module in university, so he was telling me which constellations were which. And we sat there for hours by the roadside, just talking about how to read stars, which constellations were which etc. It was a really refreshing experience!

[Photo by my brother] This gave me a lot of Totoro vibes (the part where the Catbus appeared for the first time while Satsuki and Mei were waiting for their dad)

Day 4: Travel to Ise

The next day, we had to leave early, but my dad brought us to a place we frequented in our childhood since we had a bit of time. There was this mega-large slide which took approximately one minute for us to slide all the way down. We had to climb a large hill just to hitch one ride on it!

We left for Sakudaira station after this to go to Tokyo for a transit to Kansai soon after, but I’m sure I’ll be back here before long!

There was a really long queue for this ramen shop in Tokyo station, so we decided to try it! Apparently, it’s quite famous! It’s called 六厘舎 (Rokurinsha), to those interested! The broth was really good! The egg tasted like it had alcohol in it, but my absolute favourite was the CHASHU.

HARRY POTTER POP-UP STORE (anime style). I COULDN’T BELIEVE MY EYES. I wanted to take the entire stand home!!!! They had many of the popular characters, like Draco, the Marauders, and I think even Regulus Black! I was hoping to get Luna, but they didn’t sell her, so I settled for Hermione and Ron! I think the store owner was amused because I kept running back to the shop to buy new things

CHARACTER STREET! I have come back for you. Since we only had about two hours before the next train ride, we couldn’t really explore anything in detail. So I decided to loiter in the Ghibli shop!

This medal reacts to “Barus!” (words of destruction). The product makers have an interesting sense of humor

The match boxes were AESTHETIC

I WANT EVERYTHING

There were some OSomatsu-san stuff in one of the shops, but I didn’t have time to stay and look! ;w;

Self control….. self control…..

[First photo by my brother]. I ate at Italian Tomato Cafe Jr.  a really long time ago at EON Mall (but that outlet has since disappeared), so I was happy to see it in Tokyo Station! Their shortcake was just as good as I remembered!

Hoho. Komeda Coffee. I’ll be back for you one day…

Some of the things that fascinated me in Tokyo Station. Yes. That is a chandelier made up of kitkats, and that is PORK JERKY

TIME TO GO TO  KANSAI! We hitched a ride on the Hikari bullet train! This one was slightly bumpier than the one we took to Sakudaira because of  the terrain. It was interesting because our ride took place along the Toukaidou, which connected Kyoto to old-time Edo (Tokyo). Apparently, Tokugawa created this system that made the feudal lords move from Kyoto (the emperor’s place) to Edo (Tokugawa’s residence), so the economy of Japan boomed along this area. Stuff like Woodblock art and Kabuki became famous along the road.

We passed by Shizuoka, and we suspect the mountain blocked by clouds is Mt Fuji!

Well, if I can’t see Mt Fuji today I’ll just have to settle for the picture on this bottle

We’ve hit Nagoya!

We took another train to Ise! It seems like we’ll be travelling the entire day today! So I got a Café Latte to stay awake!

On the way we passed by Tsu: a station with only one syllable

The sky has become a lot prettier!

By the time we’ve reached Ise it was evening! This place feels really mystical—all the street lamps had windchimes in them, so each time there was a breeze you get this really lovely chime in the air.  To the curious, Ise is where the shrine of Amaterasu (The God of the Sun) is located.

My brother took a really nice photo of the lamps and the sunset, so I’m showing it off

[last photo by my brother]. This is the first time I’ve ever eaten in an Izayakaya and I ordered…. ORANGE JUICE. But the food was super good! My personal favourite was the omelette! Everything tasted home-cooked and the bill was really cheap! For those interested, the restaurant is called とばっこ (Tobakko).

We stayed at a really neat AirBnB! The furniture was sparse (if you ignore our laundry), and it was at a very good location. Our hostess was really helpful in helping us to find places to visit as well! 

Found this in the nearby Family Mart! I would buy you if I lived here, Hijikata… At this moment I’m eating five meals almost every day..

Day 5: Ise Jingu

We set off at 5am the next day I was near Death. From hereon we would repeat the cycle of waking up at 5-6am and arriving home at 11pm for the rest of the vacation. The good thing about it is that the streets are completely empty

It was a nice walk to the shrine! One nice elderly man on a bicycle said “Good morning!” to us and that brightened my mood for the rest of the day!

[last photo by my brother] Here we are at 外宮Geku shrine! This one is dedicated to Toyoukeno Oomikami, who takes charge of Amaterasu Ookami’s food, clothing and shelter! The place was really quiet and serene. It felt a lot different from Meiji Jingu, which was always filled with people. There were multiple offering spots in the shrine, and the main gate bans us from taking photos. The vibe here is really mystical and it feels powerful

We waited for a taxi to get to naiku! That’s Amaterasu Ookami’s shrine. The taxi on the sign looked like it was smiling. Our driver spoke in Kansai dialect – I was a little surprised to know that it’s not just the words, but the intonation had also changed!

This was a lot bigger than Geku! Like Geku, we were forbidden from taking photos of the interior shrine. One of the offering places was to the Wind God, Fujin, who apparently helped to expel the Mongols from the Japan seas in the 13th century! There were more people here than at Geku, but it still had that really mystical aura. I might come here again when the weather is cooler!

Well, since we left the house at 5.30am we were finished with Naiku by 11am HAH. We had lots of time to explore Oharai Machi, which is located right outside Naiku. But because of the hot weather, the fact that we didn’t eat breakfast,  and the little rest we had, I was about to drop dead at this point

So Oharai Machi used to be a purification and dance/singing centre dedicated to the Gods of Ise Shrine, but today you can find loads of food shops and goodies. The vibe of the place feels super retro and I love it! I caught one or two Halal shops that sell Japanese oden and kushi sticks!

[last photo by my brother] We ate some sweetened ice to cool down after the Naiku trip! They were really generous with the portions and their red bean snacks were DELICIOUS. I don’t usually like this sort of traditional sweets but I couldn’t stop myself from wolfing this down. The restaurant is called Akafuku (赤福) - at least, that’s what the signboard seems to say!

Yeah, I really like the aesthetic of this place. I live for street Udon tbh

We chose to eat at Ise Udon Soba Okadaya (岡田屋)! A sparrow flew into the shop the moment it opened so I guess we were the second customers for the day lmao. THE UDON WAS REALLY REALLY GOOD. It had a really chewy and soft texture and it became more and more delicious the more you ate it; it was surreal. It didn’t taste like all the types of Udon I’ve eaten before. I’m so sad that I can only eat it in Ise and not where I live. I will definitely be back for more argh. 110% WILL RECOMMEND. It’s pretty cheap too and in my opinion, it’s best to eat it without too many toppings. Maybe just an egg with garnishes will do

(The store had a retro telephone booth)

[Photo by my brother] We ate Matsusaka beef and ONE STICK COST 9USD. INSANE. But it was really good and chewy and I’ve never had better beef in my LIFE

Okage Yokocho is an area in Oharai Machi! It looked a little bit like a festival! They had a rifling booth which I wanted to try, but I was trying to save money so I decided against it. Lots of fancy buildings here!

We went to Kaminogo Station because our host recommended another shrine! The weather made me feel like I was swimming in a volcano, but the clear skies make it worth it! I could take photos with my eyes closed and it’d still turn out pretty

Here’s a bit of what was inside of the shrine! It was significantly cooler in temperature than Naiku and Geku. There were bees buzzing around here and there. The walk was less intense than Naiku and Geku but I was starting to get tired around this time

So we returned back to the apartment to pig out.

Only for us to leave about two hours later so we can eat… AGAIN. The sky was really pretty. I guess one good thing about summer is that you get really pretty skies

Guess what we’re having: Matsusaka BEEF! Apparently it’s one of the THREE BIG BEEF along with Oumi Beef and Kobe beef. Which means it’s expensive as hell but you only live once I guess. The restaurant was called Ishikawa 石かわ and it’s famous for Matsusaka Beef!

The restaurant had a really quaint feeling you would get from a sleepy little town. The chef pan fried the beef on a sizzling stove. I WISH I HAD A BIGGER PIECE. The beef was so chewy and the sauce was so good I made it a point to keep the meat in my mouth longer than necessary. The vegetables were also really fresh so it added to the taste! EVERYTHING WAS PERFECT. This was probably one of my favourite things I ate along the entire trip. Top 3 for sure

Ise is just as mystical at night time!

Aaaaaand we went to eat ramen for supper. This is the same restaurant as Tobakko, except it was a Ramen booth instead of an Izakaya. It had the roadside street stall feeling to it, and the ramen tasted really nostalgic! There was only one man running the shop so he must have been very busy

Day 6: Nara and travel to Osaka

The next day we woke up early to go to our host’s café! It was located deeper in the alley where the apartment was situated. I REALLY liked her decorations!

She cooked for us Ise Udon and many other side dishes like salad, omelette, and tofu pudding! It was REALLY cool because we were the only people in the café at that hour, so we could spend a lot of time chatting with her. I’ll miss this place and our hostess when we’re gone! ;w;

We traveled to Nara on a one carriage train called Yamashiro Reccha! [photo by my brother] All the blinds were drawn so the carriage was dark and my dad kept making murder mystery jokes

WELCOME TO NARA. You can almost tell from the staircase what this place is famous for; I’ve never seen wild deers before in my life so I’m really excited!! Unlike Ise, Nara seems to be a town instead of a countryside, so the vibes are pretty different

Here sells nothing but melon bread. I want to live in this stall

[Last photo by my brother] The tourist center recommended that we try 天丼まきの (Tendon Makino) for Tendon since it was a popular tourist destination. I swear to God, this is the BEST TENDON I’ve EVER eaten in MY LIFE. I’m not fond of octopus but I ate everything up in one go. There was a fried egg in the bowl you could crack open and spill all the yolk everywhere. Literally this is something I’d never get sick of. I could probably eat it everyday for the rest of my life.

MISTER DONUT. I will have you one day….

One of the stalls had a sparrow’s nest near its opening gate! While the sparrow chicks were cute as sin, I sort of pity the poor sparrow for making its nest in the middle of a tourist district

We stopped by Kofuku-Ji Nan-en-dou 興福寺 on the way to Nara deer park! The architecture of the tower seemed really old! It seems there are lots of old buildings (dating to before 16th century) in Kansai

A really nice looking hotel called 菊水楼Kiku-sui-rou. It seems they have a very high rating for their hospitality and their food!

We arrived at the gates of 春日大社(Kasuga Taishi)! And I SAW MY FIRST DEERS. I didn’t dare to approach them since I thought they would run off, but silly me, they were probably already accustomed to having people around.

More deer and shrine stuff! The deers are literally everywhere. And there are lots of tourists too! The awkward part was that there were tonnes of deer droppings everywhere, so you could step on them if you’re not careful.

There was a rest stop at the shrine, so we sat here to cool off a bit. Then this deer appeared out of nowhere and started sniffing my dad’s bag. He was sniffing every single human he came into contact with. Then he came up to me and began to sniff my plastic bag.

THEN HE RIPPED IT APART AND ATE OUR MAP.

I hope it was at least a little bit nutritious but now we hae no directions

We had ice-coffee and ice-cream at the rest stop after that!

So we walked down from the hill after that and played with some deers! This one kept following me. I’m sorry, I don’t have a biscuit for you but I can give you attention if you’d like!

Deers crossing the road! And the bus gave way to them

On the way to 東大寺Toudaiji!

Toudaiji houses the world's largest bronze statue of the Buddha Vairocana. The statue was at least ten times taller than me without exaggeration!! I also really liked how old the building seemed to look! It seemed really ancient 

We headed out of the temple and this deer stuck his tongue out. What message are you trying to relay, friend?

We returned to Nara station soon after that and took the train to Osaka! We’ve been taking so many trains that the JR Pass is adequately used!

HELLOOOOO OSAKA

We arrived at our new AirBnB destination and I slept so soundly here!! Maybe it’s because I had my own room, but I love that we had the entire floor to ourselves! I also really liked the decorations she put all over the place! It’s really close to the station and Namba City so it was pretty convenient! Here’s the link if anyone is interested!

By the time we reached Namba it was already rather late! So we scoured the place in a rush. There was a Takashimaya somewhere in there which sold nice cakes!

The store Rope Picnic sold lots of cute clothes at 70% off because of summer sale! I felt like I held myself back from spending money just for this moment!! I would be coming here repeatedly over the course of the next few days!

Meanwhile my brother ate some Milk Ice-cream that’s so smooth it looks almost like a toy [photo by my brother]

We decided to eat at 百十Momojuu since it’s a crime to go to Osaka and not eat Okonomiyaki! That is, we ordered Monjayaki instead because we didn’t know there was a difference. THE BEST DISH WAS THE TONPEI (Omelette with meat inside)! The Okonomiyaki (second last picture) was not ours, but the cook accidentally placed it on our grill. Overall the meal was pretty affordable! If I were to go back to Osaka, I’d definitely come by here again.

(The air ventilators seemed to suck smoke up in the air, so people could smoke in the restaurant without bothering the other customers!)

Day 7: Kyoto

Some things I noticed and liked on my way to the station. Today we would be going to Kyoto. I haven’t been there since I was five but I remember bits and pieces of it!

THE ESCALATOR AT OSAKA STATION IS SO TRIPPY. Apparently people in Osaka seem to stand on the right hand side of the escalators rather than the left? That’s really interesting!

The escalators in Kyoto station have handles which are actually decorated!

We’ve reached the gates of the famous Fushimi Inari Shrine(伏見稲荷大社)! This one’s well known because of all the red gates and the impressive climb you need to take to the summit of the shrine. Inari is the God of rice, and you see lots of fox statues throughout the climb. Each of the gates have been donated by a Japanese businessman apparently.

It seems that at each of the gates, the fox on the left has a scroll in its mouth, while the fox on the right has a ball.

[Photos taken by my brother]. At the base, there were tons of people, but the numbers dwindled as we hit the summit. I had to stop at every rest stop because I was just that unfit! But the climb was good and hitting the summit made me feel healthy! One thing I was surprised about was how un-summit- like the summit seemed. We didn’t realize it was the summit until we had to climb down the  stairs on the opposite end of the hill!

Down we go!! My legs hurt. I probably won’t be able to stand tomorrow agh

We reached the base and ate some oden and shaved ice to cool down! The lady in charge of the shop told us that tourists only came by Fushimi Inari about four to five years ago. It appears that the shrine was a pretty recent tourist destination!

Eventually we headed back to Kyoto station and checked out the restaurants in Isetan! There was a restaurant which specialized ENTIRELY in omurice! Naturally, I was very excited!!

...Though we ended up eating at永寿案 “Washoku” Restaurant Eijuan since we were at Kyoto!

 They serve really fresh and delicious grilled fish dishes with tons of mini side dishes on the tray. The restaurant is also located on the top floor of the shopping center so you’re treated to a killer view of Kyoto! For Washoku, this restaurant is pretty affordable and the quality of the food is really good! It’s something to look for if you like light meals :’) The service staff were also really helpful in helping us to find places we can visit in Kyoto.

We took a bus from the station and headed to Kiyomizudera Temple! We have to walk up a hill again but thankfully it wasn’t as insane as Fushimi Inari. We did a lot of walking today and my legs are tired

SCENIC

We paid about 400 yen to see the rest of the temples, but I thought it was really worth it! Most of the trees in the mountain change colours really quickly when it hits autumn, but for now all the trees are green since it’s summer. The view is really breathtaking and worth the climb!

It was a long way down from the temple, but there was a shopping district with aesthetic houses nearby!!

I’m marrying this Ice cream melon soda shake you’re invited to our wedding

TOTORO SHOP KYOTO STYLE. I LIVE

This No-Face Piggy Bank will EAT YOUR MONEY so WATCH OUT

Some other things that caught my eye!

We took the bus to Gion-Shinbashi next! Gion’s the Geiko district with lots of Geiko and Maiko (geiko apprentice) running about!

The street is really pretty! I think you can’t enter any of these shophouses since they usually cost a bomb to go into. Lots of the second-storeys of the houses are covered with some sort of curtain. I wonder why

I MANAGED TO CATCH SOME MAIKOS

Before they boarded a taxi

I wonder if they’re used to tourists gawking at them each time we pass them by..

There’s a Lipton café at Kyoto station I don’t believe my eyes

I wanted to eat here but our train is departing soon!

We’ve arrived back at Namba!

Don Quijote is going to be my best friend for the rest of my days

There’s literally an alcohol called “Do your best, Daddy!” I can’t stop laughing

In the end, we decided to eat at a Yakiniku store since Osaka seems to specialized in grilled and pan-fried foods! We ate at牛角 Gyuu-Kaku, which is apparently expensive where I live, but pretty cheap here.

[second last photo by my brother]. The meat was really good! I swear everything we’ve eaten on this trip is good. The dish in the last picture was especially good—they put some sort of cotton candy and boiled the meat in sauce, and the cotton candy just melted into the sauce after that. I have no idea how it works. All I know is that it was GREAT

THEY HAVE GRILLED MELON BREAD WITH ICE CREAM. I went to town on this one. You grill the melon bread, cut it open and shove ice-cream into it. It’s SO GOOD I can die. This is the highlight of my trip

Then we ate takoyaki after that! We eventually headed back to Don Quijote for grocery shopping

ATTACK ON NOSE HAIR

We had dessert when we went home again! This one came from CRAMERCY New York!

Day 8: Osaka

My dad went to 高野山Koya-san while we rested at home for the day. Apparently, it was first built by monk 空海Kukai, who founded the Japanese calligraphic system! Here are some of the pictures he took!

Apparently, you would sit on a monorail that wasn’t shaped horizontally to get to the top of the mountain like you see in the last picture! It seemed really cool!

Guess what we had for breakfast the next day!!

1.       Cake

2.       Cake

3.       Cake

I can’t believe they made Takoyaki cream puffs and sold it in Takashimaya

We headed to Namba City and ate a buffet meal at GOOD SPOON! I really enjoyed the décor of this place. Apparently it specialized in Italian food, especially their cheeses! The huge bag on the bolognaise in the fourth picture is in fact a huge chunk of cheese! Honestly, everything we’ve eaten on the trip has been really worth it and delicious!

On our way to Osaka Tower!

There seems to be tons of Billiken motifs in the tower. He was dreamt up by an American artist, and is said to bring good luck!

A scene from Osaka tower! Apparently you can see Universal Studios here somewhere!

The history of this place seems a little interesting. Apparently it was built and opened in 1912 along with the amusement park, Luna Park, which included arcades and rides. Unfortunately the original Tsutenkaku and Luna Park burned down in the 1940s, but they rebuilt it under Hitachi in 1956, so the tower is still around today!

The Tower also hosts the Glico museum! Glico was the company which made Pocky!

I’m honestly scared of how much weight I’m going to put on

Eventually we headed back to Namba Area as a cut through to Dotonbori!

 [last photo by my brother] Doutonbori has so many lighted billboards I LOVE IT. The giant crab in the first picture actually MOVES. It reminds me of Tokyo a little, but has more of a night life feeling to it! Lots of shops that I love here, but I only had four hours to run through the place before everything closed!

There was a festival taking place along the river while we were there

We eventually went to eat Kushiyaki at だるまDaruma because that’s another thing Osaka is famous for! It was really good! My favourite dish was the Dotemiso and the quail eggs! So far, it seems like Tokyo has a larger variety of food, but Kansai’s food is more flavorful!

Gintama sale at Marui. I’ll patronize your store another time, Elizabeth….

Day 9: Kobe

We’ve arrived at Kobe! The weather was CRAZY HOT today! I really like the port towns in Japan since they seem to have a lot of delicious Western food, history and architecture! It reminds me a lot of Yokohama in a way! Plus it’s located on a hillside facing the ocean, just the sort of thing I like!

We went ahead and took the Kobe City Bus! It looked really fancy and there was an announcer giving us a rundown of the historical importance of the routes we were taking.

Our first stop was Ijinkan! AKA the street with all the old Western houses that rich foreigners used to live in or use for their recreational activities! The street here was REALLY pretty! Since Kobe was a hill, we would have to climb around to get to just anywhere. The England House apparently had a Sherlock Holmes exhibition on the second floor, and I could see Watson’s silhouette through the curtains!

We bought the tickets to go to the Trick House! Albert Einstein greeted us from the window it was surreal

Many art pieces would look REALLY TRIPPY if you took a photo with a person in it, but I’m camera shy. Here are just some of the exhibits which don’t require you a person to be in the picture. The third one was probably my favourite since it looks like a mirror but actually isn’t! They arranged two rooms to look perfectly symmetrical and you could only tell if a person is walking on the other side. It’s a lot like that one room in the Witch’s House…

You have paintings like these too. 

It was fun to walk on air :^)

Next we had to climb a steep hill to Uroko House!! It was a struggle in the hot weather but at this point I’m so used to sweating. I wonder how the staff come here to work everyday…

Kobe tiles!!

Uroko House! …..’s café

There’s a wild boar in front of it called Porcellino which brings good luck if you touch its nose! I kept getting distracted by its name because of Porco Rosso’s nickname…

The REAL Uroko house! Apparently they named the house as such because the tiles used to decorate the mansion look like scales (uroko). This house used to be luxury rental houses for wealthy foreigners. The exhibits include not only the rooms, but also antique utensils, tableware, and a small art museum!

If I were a doll and these houses are completely furnished I’d live in them.

Some of the stuff we ate in the café! I really liked the ice-cream. We accidentally spilled our drink and the waitress was nice to refill it for us for free

Here are some of my favourite rooms!! I’m glad I came here. It looks a lot like the dollhouse in The Secret World of Arrietty

The view and some of the nice artworks in the museum!

Now we’re off to Yamate 8Ban Kan

Yamate 8Ban Kan! It’s oriented to the sea with trapezoidal bay windows in a row. Inside the building, the “Saturn’s chair” which is believed to grant your wishes if women sit on the right and men on the left. I was having a stomachache so I might have wasted my wish by wishing it to be gone

FUJIKO MINE CLORETS! I love her she’s such a role model

Now we’re going to try Kobe Beef at Steak Land! While we were taking a lift to the restaurant, a man stumbled into the elevator with us. We suspected that it might have been someone important since the restaurant continued to serve him after its closing hours

I’M SO EXCITED!

THE BEEF WAS REALLY GOOD! They cooked the vegetables first and saved the beef and beansprouts for last!! I can’t help but think that everything that we’ve eaten on this trip was really delicious! As far as Kobe beef goes, this was one of the more affordable options!

SCORCHING SUMMER SUN. You can see how hot it is. I could write a song about how much the weather makes one suffer

We continued to take a bus trip around and passed by the maritime museum! I didn’t manage to go in this time, but there will always be future trips that I can plan for :P

Kobe is so scenic!!

Nishimura’s Coffee looks really fancy and I really like the exterior décor despite not eating inside.

We headed to Mosaic Mall! Which seemed to be an outdoor shopping centre!

We meet again, Donguri Garden.

SMILING TOTORO BAG. How can something so perfect exist

My brother tried some chocolate ice-cream from Frantz! Though I didn’t manage to try it to tell if it was good or not

We took the bus back to Kobe station and headed to Namba again!

MY FIRST CREPE ON THE TRIP. I have found you at last

I seem to come across a lot more kittens than full grown cats while I’m in Namba, but this brave warrior didn’t seem afraid in the midst of all the people walking around.

Lmao R18 gacha-gachas

We headed back to Namba City for dinner! There’s this shop called C3 Baked Tiramisu which is ABSOLUTELY DELICIOUS. I’m not sure if you can find it in Tokyo but this is hands down the best Tiramisu I have ever eaten in my entire life. We bought a dozen back home to finish

MIX FRUIT JUICE SHAKE IS GREAT! I should make this on my own next time! It probably had mango and orange inside, maybe even pineapple, but I’m not too sure

Eventually we headed to Shabu Nabe Udon Noraya のらや, which specialized in Udon and Shabu-Shabu. I had the Udon and tempura set while my brother and mother shared the Pork Shabu Shabu. HOW CAN SUCH A PINK PORK EXIST. I guess the reason why the food here’s so great is because of the quality of the ingredients as well. I really like non-greasy food so this has to be one of my top 3 meals in the entire trip! Definitely would recommend this! And it’s pretty affordable as well. They are really generous with the portions!

  We had more cakes for supper

 Day 10: Leaving Japan

Tiramisu for breakfast! It’s over so soon and I don’t want to leave Osaka so soon ;w;

We stopped by Tully’s Coffee at Osaka station and my mother tried a pancake! It would take a few hours before we reach Tokyo…

We had lunch at 矢場とんYabaton  at Tokyo Station!! The Pork cutlet was really good since they cooked it with their own miso! The staff were really nice too! They helped to warm up my food since I took such a long time to eat because of my stomachache ;w;

We took a Monorail to Haneda Airport! I didn’t know that monorails would tilt to the side when they turned!

Might that be rainbow bridge?

Amuro Tooru seems to be really popular in Japan now! It’s probably because of the new Detective Conan movie in Japan but he’s always been intriguing! I hope they release more on his backstory soon.

Agghh I don’t want to leave but I will definitely be back

The sky was really pretty! Overall the ride was way better than the initial one, since much of the rainy season has cleared up. I actually managed to sleep so that was impressive!

It’s good to be back!!

I guess on the whole Kansai has a pretty different vibe from central Tokyo. Both had their fair share of cultural landmarks and city areas, but Kansai used to house the really old capital of Japan, so they had much older monuments compared to Tokyo. Osaka’s city also seems to be a lot more night life-ish compared to my experience with Tokyo! In terms of food, I’d say that Tokyo has more variety, but I really think Osaka’s food has more flavour. Literally everything I’ve eaten on this trip is delicious and worthy of a recommendation!

On the other hand, I’m really proud of myself since I managed to control myself from overspending this trip :^)

If you make it a point to visit the cultural landmarks instead of going to shop, you really can save a lot of money when travelling in Japan! There are also many more Halal food options compared to what I’ve seen last year, so it should be possible to find good Japanese food for those who have to adhere to a religious diet!

[jwindish]

A Snowy February Weekend in the Upper Peninsula

How do you spend a snowy February weekend in the Upper Peninsula? You get outside and try to make the most of it.

This blog post started off as winter travel tips in the Marquette/Munising, Michigan area in February. However, our weekend plans changed quickly when the area was hit by one of the worst snow storms of the season.

Our plans for the weekend of February 22 – 25, 2019 originally included visiting the Lake Superior shoreline to stargaze, and visit Marquette, Michigan to photograph the abandoned ore dock, which we did do but not as planned.

One thing we did plan that turned out quite well was snowmobile riding on the extensive trails in and around Munising, Michigan. More on that in a few moments.

Accommodations

For this trip, we selected a nice little cabin just outside of Munising, which worked out quite nicely, as it was very close to our snowmobile rentals.

Pictured Rocks Cabins – A very nice, modern, yet outdoorsy cabin that will have you feeling right at home the moment you arrive.

Situated just off the Pictured Rocks National Shoreline and smack in the middle of the Hiawatha Forest, this cabin is just what we were looking for.

The cabin is two rentals in one cabin so you might not be alone, but the hosts (Brad and Kathy) are very good at keeping track of who is coming and going – but, not in an intrusive way. The second room was rented but we did not know our neighbors were even there.

Pictured Rocks Cabins has several options for booking. We booked through Airbnb, but Brad and Kathy have a nice website for booking. We just chose Airbnb because we use the site often and was familiar.

Photos below are all taken right at the cabin.

One final comment regarding our stay at Pictured Rocks Cabin – Brad and Kathy were great hosts. They both came to meet us when we arrived at the cabin to make sure everything was as expected. Since it snowed quite a bit that weekend, Brad made sure the drive was cleared of snow and accessible.

On Sunday, the 24th, when the blizzard hit, the entire area lost power for a period of time. Brad messaged us to make sure we were ok and that they had contacted the power company to get someone working on it for us. It was most appreciated.

Other lodging options – Pictured Rocks National Shoreline is a busy warm weather destination and there are more options for lodging during warmer months. Several of the hotels that are located near the shoreline close for the winter, however, there are still several options we heard about while visiting.

Holiday Inn Express, Munising – A spectacular location right on Lake Superior. Looked very busy when we visited, so book early.

Econolodge Inn & Suites – Wetmore, Michigan. This is located near Munising and only a short 10 minutes from Munising and the Pictured Rocks Shoreline. The Econolodge is also where our snowmobile rental was located. So, if you are renting snowmobiles, give this a look – again, very busy so check early.

Cherrywood Lodge – Wetmore, Michigan. This lodge is also part of the Econolodge property where snowmobile rentals are located.

Snowmobiling

When I was younger, we owned snowmobiles and they are incredibly fun. My wife was skeptical, to say the least. She had never been on one and was quite reluctant when I first suggested we give this a try.

The Upper Peninsula is really where it’s at if you want a great snowmobiling experience. Miles and miles of trails, lots of snow, groomed trails, and scenery that will absolutely amaze you.

We do not own snowmobiles, so renting for the day was in order. We heard of several places renting but we only checked on the location where we did rent from and they were very good to work with and were quite friendly people.

Munising Snowmobile Rentals – Wetmore, Michigan.

Definitely, give these Munising Snowmobile rentals a try if you are planning to take a snowmobile trip to the area.

Prices were average for a day rental. What made this experience renting our sleds so enjoyable was the great care taken by the staff to ensure we had a great experience. The staff made us feel welcome, helped us with our paperwork, made sure we were properly outfitted and gave us all the information we needed to operate our sleds safely.

Safety was definitely the selling point for Munising Snowmobile Rentals. From making sure we could operate our sleds safely, to providing us good options for the best trails to hit, and then having a staff member lead us safely to the trailhead to ensure we were headed the right direction. They also provided us a phone number and asked us to at least text message them during the day to let them know we were doing ok.

Photos below show our snowmobile and a small sample of the trails we rode.

Munising Snowmobile Rentals have a variety of sleds for every type of operator. We selected a two-seater since my wife had never operated a sled before. It was a nice sled.

My wife would say that the back seat of a snowmobile is not the place to be – it sits up higher and does not have the benefit of the windshield to block the wind. The back seat did have hand warmers though – that kept us out there a while longer for sure.

Our pictures were all taken with phones since it was just too difficult to take a larger camera. However, we did capture some amazing sights during our day on the snowmobiles.

Views from the trails and snapshots from a brief hike along the way to visit Miner’s Falls. We had snowfall the entire day of snowmobiling on Saturday.

Make sure you have proper identification and registration while on the trails. We saw Conservation stop a few snowmobilers checking for proper paperwork and safety. Keep up the great work #michiganconservation.

Scenes from the trails

Read more about Miners Castle Overlook HERE.

Miners Falls – located a short ride from Miners Castle Overlook. Was a little hike back to the falls but the scenery was well worth it.

Ice formation from Miners Falls

    Tips

Check the weather – we did not expect a blizzard even though the forecast called for snow. Travel was very dangerous

If you are renting sleds or have never been snowmobiling, call ahead and check with vendors, they will be more than happy to provide details. The trails were quite busy the last weekend of February. If you can go during the week, even better.

Travel in a truck or SUV with 4 wheel drive, if possible. We would have been stranded had we not been in my pickup with 4 wheel drive.

Food is sparse – don’t expect to see any chain restaurants in Munising. We got decent food but nothing spectacular.

Lodging was pretty much all booked up during our stay. We booked about three months in advance and things were pretty full then.

The locals were all fabulous – ask questions if you want details about local travel, food, destination, or any other specific information. They’ll be happy to help you.

So, there you have it, readers, our review of Munising, Michigan and our snowy weekend in February.

#munising #michigan #snowmobiling #microcation

      A Snowy February Weekend in the Upper Peninsula. A review and summary of a great midwest destination. A Snowy February Weekend in the Upper Peninsula How do you spend a snowy February weekend in the Upper Peninsula?

[mexcine]

Roma (2018) review: Roma has gained a lot of international attention recently, with numerous critics placing it on their "Best Films of 2018" list and the film being short-listed for Best Foreign-Language Film in the 2019 Oscars. However, not all of the criticism has been favourable, with a number of viewers criticising the sparse plot, slow pace, and other aspects.  Partially financed by Netflix, Roma ran afoul of that company's policy of (extremely) limited theatrical release (to preserve the film for its streaming subscribers).  There was a fair amount of controversy about this in Mexico, where the major cinema chains didn't want to show the picture because of the very brief window provided by Netflix: director Alfonso Cuarón noted that his movie was being shown in more cinemas in Poland than in Mexico!

    Frankly, Roma is much more of a "festival" film (and in fact it won the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival and has been nominated for numerous other prizes) than one aimed at mass audiences, either in Mexico or elsewhere.  Shot in black-and-white with no "name" performers, the film is set in 1970-71 Mexico and makes considerable use of its setting (although the plot isn't intrinsically linked to its time period): many of the details will be incomprehensible to foreign viewers (and probably to most Mexicans under the age of 50).  However, the film's basic themes can be understood by all, which to some extent explains its popularity among the international intelligentsia (who are, no doubt, also entranced by Cuarón's film form, which is definitely worth the attention).

   Cleo, a young indigenous woman from Oaxaca, works as a servant in the household of Dr. Antonio.  The family includes his wife Sofía, his mother-in-law doña Teresa, and their four children: Sofi, Pepe, Toño, and Pedro.  Cleo goes on a date with Fermín, a friend of her fellow servant Adela's boyfriend Ramón; Cleo and Fermín have sex and she becomes pregnant.  Fermín vanishes at the news; when Cleo finally tracks him down, he denies being the father and threatens Cleo with physical violence if she contacts him again.

    Meanwhile, Dr. Antonio abandons his family for another woman, but his children are told he's doing medical research in Canada.  Cleo and doña Teresa visit a furniture store to purchase a crib for Cleo's baby but are caught in a violent confrontation between student protesters, the police, and plainclothes police hit squads: many people are killed.  Cleo goes into labour and her baby, a little girl, is born dead.

    Sofía takes her children to the beach and insists the depressed Cleo come along but "as a guest," not a servant.  While there, Sofía reveals the truth about her husband to the children. Shortly before they depart for home, Cleo saves the lives of Sofi and one of her brothers who are in danger of drowning, even though Cleo herself cannot swim.  Once back on shore, the shaken Cleo confesses that she didn't want her own baby to live.

    The family returns to their home in Mexico City.  Antonio has removed some furniture and the house is different, but the family will adjust.  Cleo resumes her place as the beloved family servant.

    There are two basic thematic aspects of Roma. First, it's a woman-centered (one might say "feminist" but I won’t presume to put that label on it) film.  Second, it's an examination of racial/socio-economic relations in Mexico (specifically, but feel free to extrapolate to anywhere else on the globe that seems to fit).

    At one point in Roma, Sofía tells Cleo to remember that "women are always alone."  There are virtually no sympathetic adult males in the film: Ignacio, the family chauffeur, does his job but has no personality to speak of, and Adela’s boyfriend Ramón is slightly sympathetic and helpful to Cleo at one point, but that’s about it. Dr. Antonio, even before he abandons his family, is frequently absent (he also chain-smokes, which is a mark of villainy--in 2000s cinema, anyway).  He leaves his wife for a younger woman, deceives his children (which means his wife has the responsibility of breaking the news to them), and pays no child support.  This last at least has the positive aspect of causing Sofía to leave a teaching job she dislikes for a full-time job in publishing.  We don't get much more information on Antonio's personality or the state of his marriage to Sofía, so our impressions are based on the picture Cuarón paints (more like, sketches) of Antonio, and it's a negative one.  When Sofía and the children spend Christmas at a relative's hacienda, one of the men makes a drunken pass at Sofía and insults her when she turns him down, one more negative male image in Roma.

    The other major male figure is Fermín, who admits he had an impoverished adolescence and used various drugs before he was "saved" by martial arts training. Later, when Cleo asks if he and a large crowd of young men are training "for the Olympics," he says "something like that." What they're training for is, as it develops, the police death squads known as the "Halcones" (the Falcons), who viciously attack student protestors. [The film doesn’t really explain who they are, so those unfamiliar with this period of Mexican history may be confused.]  One of the few movie-style coincidences in Roma is the appearance of Fermín in the furniture store during the riot sequence: he brandishes a pistol and comes face to face with Cleo but doesn't speak and just runs away.  This appearance answers the question of the purpose of Fermín's training, but it still seems too movie-fake.

    In contrast to the men, both Cleo and Sofía are admirable figures but still recognisably human and flawed.  Roma is not a film that allows its characters to openly discuss their thoughts and feelings, so the viewer has to deduce what Cleo and Sofía are going through by observing their actions.  Cleo seems like a decent, trusting young woman who's deceived by that dirty rat Fermín, but in point of fact we don't get much insight into their relationship at all.  They decide to go for a walk in the park rather than see a movie, and suddenly they're in bed in a hotel (where Fermín does a nude martial arts routine with a shower rod).  Is this the same day?  A week later? A month later?  When Cleo finally realises she's pregnant, she says it's been three months since her last period, and when she tells Fermín, that's the last she sees of him for at least several months.  We do not see them together as a couple, so it's unclear if he seduced her, or it was a mutual decision, or what.

    Sofía assures Cleo she won't be fired for getting pregnant, and in fact the whole family is rather accommodating to her: Sofía takes her to the hospital to determine if she's pregnant, introduces her to a kind lady doctor, etc., culminating with the unfortunate trip to the furniture store to buy the crib.

    Cleo seems rather passive on the whole, but summons the courage to undertake an extended journey to find Fermín and confront him.  [And, perhaps coincidentally, demonstrates that she has great inner strength: she's the only person who can perform the physical feat that Professor Zovek challenges a huge crowd of athletic young men to do. No one notices this]  It's also clear that Cleo behaves one way when in the presence of her employers and others of their social class (including doctors, etc.) and another when she's with her friend Adela.  They speak the Mixtec language to each other, and seem like any two carefree young women interested in young men, movies, and so forth.  We get only vague hints of Cleo’s life before she arrived in Mexico City: brief references to her village and her mother.  There’s no indication how long she’s been working for the family, for instance.

    Unlike the relatively sparse male cast, there are a number of female characters in Roma who provide support to Cleo.  Sofía, as noted above, is generally sympathetic to Cleo (she loses her temper at one point, but on the whole is a decent boss, as is doña Teresa).  Fellow servants Adela and Benita are Cleo’s friends; Dr. Vélez is an exemplary medical professional, kind and not condescending.  So there’s a certain air of female solidarity in Roma, understated but obviously present.

    The second major motif present in Roma is its depiction of socio-economic, cultural and racial relations in Mexico. At the risk of over-simplification, Mexico’s three main “racial” categories--whites, mestizos (of indigenous and white, largely Spanish, heritage), and indigenous people (indios)--have also been separated socially and economically, with the whites on top, the mestizos in the middle, and the indigenous people at the bottom.  However, the divisions are not always clear: there’s a saying that “an indio ceases to be an indio when he/she wears shoes” (as opposed to huaraches or going barefoot); similarly, speaking Spanish as a first language “elevates” one above the indigenous people like Cleo, who speak a native language and Spanish.

    It’s not entirely clear in Roma, but one assumes  Antonio, Sofía, and their family are white, Fermín is mestizo, and Cleo is an indigenous person.  Cleo, a servant, is theoretically lowest in status (although her living conditions are certainly better than those of Ramón--who lives in a shanty in a slum, where presumably Fermín lives as well).  Her work is strenuous and continuous (caring for 3 adults and 4 children in a very large house) but we do not see her being mistreated or abused. Indeed, the children are emotionally attached to her and she seems to sincerely care for them as well.

    A more critical reading of Roma would suggest that Cleo’s treatment by the family is exploitative and paternalistic, in turns.  No indication is given of how much she’s paid, how much time she gets off, etc., but there are numerous scenes of her working endlessly, getting up before the family awakes and staying up after they’ve gone to bed.  In one scene, Adela and Cleo half-jokingly turn off the light in their room because doña Teresa can see it and will complain about the expense. The final shot of the film shows Cleo climbing an exterior staircase to the roof of the house to do the laundry, a set of stairs which seems to go on forever.  A jet flies over, signifying an outside world that Cleo will never experience. What will happen when the children grow up and move away?  Or when she is physically unable to do the work required of her?  

    There’s no overt racial commentary in Roma. Cleo and Adela converse in the Mixtec language and in Spanish, interchangeably, but the only person to comment on this is Pepe, the family’s youngest child, who says “stop talking like that!” because he can’t understand them.  Cleo’s interactions with the medical staff at the hospital are not characterised by any overt racism or condescension: Roma isn’t “about” racism so it doesn’t hammer its point home in this way; the viewer is left to observe and draw his/her own conclusions. This is fine but for the uninitiated the conclusion might be that racism isn’t an issue in Mexico, and there are those who would dispute that.

   What is clear--overtly in one sequence, subliminally in others--is that Mexico is a nation in which there is considerable socio-economic stratification. When Cleo sets off to find Fermín, she has to take a bus to an outlying neighbourhood that has unpaved, muddy streets, where people live in shacks and have few if any public utilities (a politician is heard making a speech about this, but offers only platitudes).  This contrasts strongly with the upper-middle class neighbourhood where she lives (the colonia Roma, from which the film gets its name), the lavish hacienda where the family spends the holidays (the many guests accompanied by their many servants), and the glimpses we see of the modern Mexico City downtown and its shops, cinemas, restaurants, and so forth. However, even in these latter scenes we’re aware of the numerous vendors on every street, selling snacks, knick-knacks and toys to make a precarious living.  

    Alfonso Cuarón and Guillermo del Toro are the two Mexican film directors with the highest international profile currently.  While del Toro makes most of his movies outside Mexico (even his debut feature, Cronos, had an Argentine and a Hollywood actor in two of the three main roles), Cuarón has alternated his projects between domestic (Sólo con tu pareja, Y tu Mamá también, Roma) and foreign pictures (A Little Princess, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Gravity, etc.).  Roma is not only a very “Mexican” film, it’s one that--as I noted above--seems almost deliberately designed to appeal to a very narrow audience (or a broader audience that will miss many of the subtleties).  

     A fair amount of commentary has focused on Cuarón’s technique: long takes, leisurely pans across the screen (including at least one 360-degree pan, I didn’t count), traveling shots, and so on.  I’ve no strong opinion about this style: it neither bothered nor impressed me unduly: although certainly some of the various panoramic shots are quite beautiful and/or visually interesting, I didn’t find that this enhanced (or detracted from) the overall impact of the film. Perhaps it did, subconsciously, and I simply didn’t notice it.

    I have not read any interviews with Cuarón so I’m not sure what justification he gives for shooting the film in black-and-white.  Because it’s a period film, or that’s the way he remembers things, or because his (mostly excellent) recreation of 1970-71 Mexico would look “fake” in colour? Pawel Pawlikowski indicates his most recent films (Ida, Cold War) were shot 4x3 and in black-and-white to emulate Soviet bloc cinema of the early 1960s, but that’s obviously not Cuarón’s reasoning (Mexican cinema was all-colour by the late Sixties).  

   Production values are excellent.  Performances are all fine although the general “feel” of the film is rather cool, with relatively little melodrama allowing for flashy ACTING!!

    Trivia notes:  in the cinema sequence when Cleo reveals her pregnancy to Fermín, they’re watching a 1966 French film, La Grande Vadrouille. Mexican actor Claudio Brook can be seen in the footage (he’s one of the pilots in the airplane with the nun). The Silvia Pinal vehicle La Hermana trinquete (1969) is showing at the Cine Metropolitan in another scene. The family watches a television show with Loco Valdés, Alejandro Suárez and Héctor Lechuga: presumably this is “Ensalada de locos.”      

      Zovek (played by wrestler/actor Latin Lover) appears in (recreated) television footage and in the sequence when Cleo finds Fermín doing martial arts training.  Professor Zovek [Francisco Javier Chapa del Bosque] (1940-1972) was a real-life physical culture guru and escape artist who was at the peak of his career in the period covered in Roma.  He starred in two films and two comic book series that portrayed him as a mystical super-hero.  

    Roma is an excellent film, but not one that I find transcendent or especially profound.  There were parts I didn’t like at all, and Cuarón’s deliberate pace makes some scenes drag on interminably.  I wouldn’t characterise the film as a whole as “pretentious” or “self-indulgent” (although it is apparently semi-autobiographical), but the director’s style and the film’s minimal “plot” mean some audiences will be bored and others will be entranced.  I liked it for several reasons: it’s well-made and stylish, and the setting (Mexico in the early 1970s) is one with which I have a certain familiarity so I was constantly seeing things of interest (often in the background).  If this was, for example, identical in nearly every aspect except it was set in 1970 France I’d probably still find the period details fascinating (that’s just how I am) but they wouldn’t have the same resonance for me. Those who have little or no knowledge of Mexico, especially in this time period, won’t “get” these references, and will have to be satisfied with the “story” and the film form.

[Some version of this review will appear in the new issue of The Mexican Film Bulletin, out before the end of the year.]

[jamesginortonblog]

Twenty years from now, you might find yourself sitting by the fire, telling tall tales to young ’uns about the madness and the mayhem of this century’s teenage years, and you might find yourself thinking — if only there was some kind of, I don’t know, TV drama that accurately encapsulated almost everything that was going on in the world in 2017, one that also felt like James Bond meets The Godfather. My friend, the drama you would be looking for is McMafia.

The series is the BBC’s big-budget new-year crime drama. Starring James Norton, Juliet Rylance and David Strathairn, alongside a host of Russian, Israeli, Brazilian and Serbian stars playing mob bosses from their home territory, it blends the stylish globetrotting of The Night Manager and The Sopranos’ take on family values, with a dark underpinning in reality.

McMafia’s script began life as a 2008 book of the same name, an epic study of organised crime by the investigative journalist Misha Glenny; it was then wrestled into a drama by the Oscar-nominated screenwriter Hossein Amini, best known for the Ryan Gosling thriller Drive. At first sight, this looks like another of those impossible-to-film tomes with which British TV is currently besotted. (The City & the City? The Patrick Melrose novels? Are you all insane?) Glenny’s tome details the rise of criminal empires from the dust of eastern Europe’s communist states and the globalisation of crime across continents, using free-market tropes. The term “McMafia”, for instance, is a reference to the Chechen gangs who franchise out the feared Chechen name to thugs across Europe, like a gun-toting Ronald McDonald.

Amini was hauled into the project by James Watkins, the director of Black Mirror and The Woman in Black, who had been trying to squeeze Glenny’s sprawling book into a feature film. “We sat in a little garden at the V&A — which, ironically, ended up in the series — and decided it could only be a TV series,” Watkins recalls as we squat on some antique furniture during a break in the filming of a violent chase in a country house. “It’s got whorls and tone, but no actual characters.”

Over the book’s fragmented vignettes, Amini lays an action thriller-cum-family-drama structure at whose heart is Alex Godman (Norton), the son of a Russian oligarch who was educated at an English boarding school, runs a successful hedge fund and is preparing to marry his ethical activist girlfriend, Rebecca, played by Rylance. When his dodgy uncle starts meddling in Moscow, Alex’s perfect life falls apart and he is thrown into the family business with increasing vigour.

“There are elements of Alex that are based on me,” Amini explains as he joins us. “I came to the UK from Iran in 1977. I was bullied at school for being foreign and found it hard to adjust. My parents can’t go back to Iran, although I could… All of this I put into Alex. So that notion of what it’s like to be Russian, but sometimes be ashamed of being Russian, and trying to work out if you’re British or Russian or something else — that’s very personal.”

Amini writes — or at least rewrites — roles once the lead actor has been cast. Drive’s sparse, moody script was as inspired by Gosling as by James Sallis’s original book. With Norton, he has done much the same thing, sculpting Alex to fit Norton’s natural sense of cool detachment as he boots up his inner Michael Corleone, against the backdrop of a violent global black economy that snakes its tentacles through everything from politics to the illegal deals smartphone makers rely on for their raw materials.

“We saw James playing the Russian aristocratic gentleman in War & Peace, a cultivated Englishman in Grantchester. Then there was Happy Valley, where he’s got this quiet, damaged fury — and it was obvious he would be perfect for a Russian bear inside a bowler hat,” Amini says.

“The thing about Alex is, he’s not a villain and he’s not a hero,” Norton tells me a few months later, as we sit by the Adriatic on Croatia’s Istria peninsula — which is doubling as the south of France and Tel Aviv. “He’s trying to do the right thing, but he’s being screwed up and twisted and turned, and he gets into this sort of spiralling, chaotic mess. They tell me they didn’t see anyone else for the role — I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. What did they see in me?”

Norton’s performance here will do nothing to dampen rumours that he’s the next Bond after Daniel Craig hangs up his Walther PPK. From the moment he steps out of a black cab in a tux onto the steps of the V&A — through spectacular assassination attempts, scenes of brutally trafficked young women, oblique references to the criminal machinations of the Russian government, high-speed chases through luxury mansions and dubious deals in pulsing Tel Aviv nightclubs, with some flashy high finance thrown in — his role has pretty much every ingredient necessary for 007, including the occasional raised eyebrow.

“To be honest, it’s mad, this crazy speculation,” Norton says with a quick laugh. “I think Daniel Craig’s going to do another two. I’m aware that James and Hoss putting me in a tux at the V&A couldn’t be more incendiary. I did say to them, ‘Are you just baiting me and stoking the fire?’”

Either way, he’s aware that this is a potentially career-changing role — not that he’s done badly so far. His elegantly foppish performances in Death Comes to Pemberley and Life in Squares led, unexpectedly, to Sally Wainwright picking him to play Royce, the dark, psychopathic nemesis to Sarah Lancashire’s troubled Catherine Cawood in two series of Happy Valley. The crime-solving vicar Sidney Chambers in Grantchester came shortly after, and he’s been in War & Peace, Flatliners and Black Mirror since then. As Alex, though, he has finally earned leading-man status.

“It’s terrifying in a way, because there’s nowhere to hide, really,” he says, giving a small smile. “Before, my agent was saying I should maybe move to a bit of theatre or a bit of film. Now he’s saying I need to decide how this is going to affect me and where I go next... It’s an AMC and BBC show, the budget is huge, we have Hoss, David Farr and James Watkins on the script, the supporting cast are all A-listers. Being the thread through all those people, I just hope I’m not the one to cock it up.”

The A-list cast, it’s fair to say, is not only impressive, but requires a little explanation. Every television drama project these days has to scream a little louder than the last just to get attention. In 2016, roughly 1,200 brand-new scripted shows were launched in the world’s main television markets, according to the industry number-cruncher the Wit — and estimates for 2017 suggest there will have been considerably more, as Facebook, YouTube and Snapchat launched scripted streaming services and Netflix alone produced 90 shows just in Europe.

McMafia is effectively the BBC’s answer to this internationalisation of talent. The Leviathan star Aleksey Serebryakov and Mariya Shukshina, a Russian TV stalwart, play Alex’s dubious oligarch parents; the Georgian actor Merab Ninidze proves oddly charming as the Kremlin-connected mobster Vadim; the Czech actor and regular Hollywood heavy Karel Roden delivers a weary ex-cop turned crime lord; and the Bollywood star Nawazuddin Siddiqui plays a corrupt Mumbai importer, Dilly Mahmood.

Russians, in other words, play Russians, Indians play Indians and Brazilians play Brazilians. When nationalities speak among themselves, they do so in their own tongue, rather than in the heavily accented pidgin English beloved of earlier shows. Sometimes there are subtitles, sometimes not. It’s a mark of how cosmopolitan the British viewer has become that a primetime drama on a mainstream channel can now drift seamlessly between languages.

“People in the UK don’t really know who these people are, but in their own world, they’re enormous superstar figures and have this immense skill set,” Watkins says. “Some of the Russian actors do so much with so little. Whenever anyone comes in to act with the Russians for the first time, we have to take them aside and say, ‘Look, this isn’t about you or your work, which we love — but before you act with them, watch what they’re doing and make sure you can match it, because they’re setting the tone for the whole piece.’”

Watkins is keen to stress that the tone is gritty, rather than glamorous. Each location is shot with different filters, and the dark, unsettling horror underpinning the action tends to be in the bleached-out bright sunlight of the Middle East. This is grimly true of the second episode, in which a young Russian beautician, Ludmilla, arrives in Egypt for a hotel job. She is picked up by a couple of cheerful locals, who drive her out of Cairo to a concrete shed where she’s beaten, tied up and shoved into the back of a van before being sold on to an armed gang — the first stop in a brutal series of events that leave Ludmilla in Israel, sold on yet again to a haughty brothel keeper.

It’s a shocking subplot, coming so soon after an exotic party at the Palace of Versailles thrown by Vadim — the Russian gangster with Kremlin links — and all the more so because it is the one story lifted directly from Glenny’s book, and is thus, effectively, a dramatised documentary. Indeed, all of the darkest elements in the series are echoes of real life — Amini based one early killing on the 1991 assassination of the former Iranian prime minister Shapour Bakhtiar. And Dimitri Godman’s drunken decline echoes the last grim years of Boris Berezovsky’s life. “We’ve tried not to chase events, because real life is always going to move faster,” Watkins says. “But every fresh headline almost seems to confirm the thesis that the corporate is becoming criminal and the criminal is becoming corporate — the intersection between criminality, intelligence agencies, banking and government.”

“Like most people, I thought the mafia was compelling and exciting,” Norton adds. “There’s money and fast cars and yachts and beautiful women. I hope people see that while we tell that story, we also tell the story of the cost — from human trafficking to drug-dealing and poverty-stricken junkies in Mumbai whose habits pay for someone’s superyacht.” He pauses. “Though I’m now aware that there are things in this phone that are unethically sourced, and I’m still using it every single day. So this probably won’t make a significant difference.”

Which is part of the final trick that Watkins and Amini play — constantly taking us back to London parties and ethical business launches by semi-legal tycoons, making clear our complicity in all the sordid crime and violent murders the show depicts. The most chilling paragraph in Glenny’s book does exactly the same.

“Organised crime is such a rewarding industry,” he writes, “because ordinary Western Europeans spend an ever-burgeoning amount of their spare time and money sleeping with prostitutes; smoking untaxed cigarettes; sticking €50 notes up their noses; employing illegal untaxed immigrant labour on subsistence wages; admiring ivory and sitting on teak; or purchasing the liver and kidneys of the desperately poor in the developing world.”

So, if you do end up in 20 years’ time using McMafia as a document of our fractured era — from Russian political meddling to dubious oil deals to corrupt hedge funds and ruined human lives — you might want to prepare yourself for the obvious question from your loving offspring: what did you do to try to stop it?

[sdsuconcertchoiritaly]

Day 7: Venice 🚌 Assisi

This is the earliest morning we’ve had yet. We need to leave the hostel at 7:45am to catch our ferry back to the port, so I’m up by about 6:25. I sneak downstairs to find an open shower and then finish packing up the last of my belongings. Breakfast is quick and rather sparse, but it’s something. Our boat picks us up a little ways down from the hostel, and we’re on our buses and officially leaving Venice by 9:00am. It’s nice to be back with our yellow group after having been divided into different groups for our hostel situation in Venice. Finally our group is getting better at our daily count-off to make sure everyone is present and accounted for (I’m number 23, or ventitré).

Nearly everyone spends the first hour or so of our bus ride sleeping, and after we make a (lengthy) stop so folks can us the restroom at small gas station/cafe, Mauro begins to talk to us about the regions of the country we’ve traversed to far. Italy is divided into about 20 regioni (regions or provinces), and each region has several communi (akin to townships). Florence is in the Toscana region (Tuscany), Venice is in Veneto, and Assisi is in Umbria. Today we are passing through the region of Emilia-Romania, where Ravenna is located along the eastern coast.

We stop in Ravenna for the afternoon on the way to Assisi. Ravenna was the capital of the Western Roman Empire until around the early fifth century. The city is known for its mosaics (made largely of glass inlaid in a mortar made from limestone and marble dust), so we are going to see a few examples in churches built around 1500 years ago.

We meet a local guide (whose name I never learn or hear mentioned) who takes us on a walking tour of Ravenna and couple of its churches. Along the walk, she talks about how many of the buildings and bell towers throughout Ravenna are leaning or sinking over time because the city is build on a foundation of sand and silt due to its location just a few miles from the coast and the mouth of the Po River (the longest river in Italy, whose valley we have been driving through this morning).

The first church we visit, Basilica di Sant’Apollinare Nuovo, was formerly the palace church for the emperor Theodoric. The ceiling and upper walls along the nave are covered in intricate mosaics depicting scenes from the Old Testament and gospel, with dozens of saints in procession toward heaven. Interestingly, many of the mosaics have been altered after the empire fell, around the late fifth/early sixth centuries. Where members of the emperor’s family used to be depicted, there are now gold walls, decorative curtains, or images of other Christian figures; faint shadows hint at the mosaics’ original composition. Our guide mentions that the floor of the church where we are standing is four feet higher or lower than it used to be (I’m rather tired and don’t ask for clarification about this detail).

Next, we walk across the city center of Ravenna to get to the Basilica di San Vitale. Along the way, we pass by the Ravenna opera, which is named for the Alleghieri family (Dante). Dante’s tomb is just down the road. (Back in Florence, I thought we’d seen Dante’s tomb in Santa Croce, but Mauro tells me this was in fact just a memorial, since his body is actually buried here in Ravenna. The Florentines have been trying for years to bring Dante’s remains back to Florence, where he was born, but to no avail.) Our guide says that Dante almost certainly wrote at least part of Paradiso here in Ravenna and that next year in 2021, Ravenna will have a celebration for the 700-year anniversary of Dante’s death.

The Basilica di San Vitale is an octagonal church, which is rare for this locale and time period. The bishop who decided to build this church was inspired by those he saw with similar designs in Constantinople. The floor, upper walls, sanctuary, and choir are covered in more mosaics. These, too, depict scenes from the gospel, parables, and symbolism of the evangelists and other important Christian figures. The central dome of the church is covered in frescoes and the walls in marble. An opening in the floor shows how close the natural water table rises beneath the church—just inches below where we’re standing. Again I’m confused about how the city has dealt with this sinking problem, but I don’t ask for clarification from our guide.

While explaining the meaning behind the various mosaics in the basilica, our guide briefly tells us about the process of making mosaics, which takes years and involves a team of specialized artists. First, the illustration must be complete, usually with direction from the bishop. Then, the illustration is translated onto the wall or space where the mosaic will live. A painter fills in the exact color for the illustration before a team of glass-layers will color-match and set the small glass tiles to comprise the final mosaic. All together, our guide says the mosaics in this church took 6-8 years to complete, while the entire building was constructed in about 20 years.

We exit the church to visit another building on the grounds: a mausoleum built for Galla Placidia. She had her tomb prepared here in Ravenna just in case she died there, but she later left to live out the rest of her life in Rome, where she died and is buried. So, this mausoleum is empty but has beautiful mosaics covering every inch of its ceiling and upper walls. They depict the evangelists and apostles, imagery from psalms, and the scene of St. Lawrence’s death by grilling.

We walk back to the main square next to a large indoor marketplace and break for a late lunch (it’s now past 2 o’clock). A staple of Ravenna is paladine, a kind of flatbread sandwich. I have one with Parma ham and some kind of stinky cheese that I pick off after a few bites. Since I didn’t have much for breakfast and we have another couple hours of bus ride ahead of us, I also get a slice of pizza from another shop.

Ravenna is a lovely town, small and much quieter than Florence or Venice. Many of the streets are paved, which is different from the cobblestones we’ve had underfoot everywhere else. One street we walk along to get back to the train station where our buses are parked reminds me of a college town with its wide boulevards and well kept trees. There doesn’t seem to be much else going on here, but it makes a nice stop for the day while we’re en route to Assisi.

Back on the bus now, Mauro tells us arriving in Assisi will be like stepping into a time machine back to 1200. It’ll take about two more hours to get there pending traffic. I use the time to catch up on writing from yesterday and today. We drive through the Appelline Mountains as the sun is setting, and it reminds me of driving through the Rockies in western Montana and Idaho on family vacations, though these mountains are more ragged and the road is elevated 50 feet in the air for long stretches at a time.

When we arrive in Assisi, we have a bit of a hike up through the town to get to our hotels (the group is split across two hotels thanks to our large numbers). Assisi is built on the side of a mountain, so all the streets are sloped. This makes for good exercise while moving throughout the city and even better views of the valley below.

We have a three-course dinner at the other group’s hotel: pasta with sausage and mushrooms, turkey stuffed with pesto and a side salad of red cabbage, and some sort of creamy fluff with fruit and cake for dessert. Bed comes easy, exhausted from the day’s travels and eager to recharge for tomorrow’s adventures.