#he approaches every interaction with delight and vigor

[under-lok-n-ki]

can never draw Gilly without giving him a big ol’ smile

[moonxytcn]

Billie takes us to meet shark for the first time at her parents house! And he absolutely loves us :')

shark (but it's the dog)

Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary – billie takes you to meet shark for the first time

warnings – fluffy

a/n – hey it's been a while since I wrote, here's a request that I thought was adorable

English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

–––

It was a sunny weekend when Billie invited you to visit her parents' house. She had talked many times about Shark, her adorable pitbull, and how he was an important member of the family. The idea of meeting Shark and Billie's parents at the same time made your heart race with a mix of anxiety and excitement.

Upon arriving at Billie's parents' house, you were greeted with a warm hug from her mother and a welcoming smile from her father. The house had a cozy aura, with family photos on the walls and the aroma of fresh coffee in the air. But what caught your attention the most was the sound of excited paws running down the hallway.

"Ready to meet Shark?" Billie asked, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. You nodded, smiling nervously.

Billie called Shark, and almost immediately, a robust pitbull with a shiny coat appeared in the living room, wagging his tail so vigorously it seemed like he might take off. He paused for a moment upon seeing you, his eyes full of curiosity.

"Shark, this is Y/N." Billie said softly, crouching down next to the dog. "She's very special to me."

You crouched down too, extending your hand for Shark to sniff. He approached cautiously, sniffing your hand before giving it an affectionate lick. Shark's tail began wagging even faster, and he jumped forward, pressing his body against you in a canine hug.

Billie laughed, clearly relieved and happy with Shark's reaction. "I think he likes you." she commented, watching as Shark nestled beside you, as if he had known you for years.

You laughed too, petting Shark's soft fur. "He's wonderful, Billie. You didn't exaggerate at all in your stories about him."

Shark seemed to want to join the conversation, letting out little happy whines while you and Billie continued interacting with him. Billie's parents watched the scene with smiles on their faces, clearly pleased with the new friendship.

"He really does have a good sense for amazing people." Billie said softly, taking your hand and intertwining her fingers with yours. You smiled, feeling a wave of warmth and happiness seeing Billie so content.

The afternoon passed quickly as you, Billie, and Shark played in the backyard. Shark showed off all his tricks, and every time you praised him, he wagged his tail even more vigorously, delighted with the attention.

As night began to fall, you sat next to Billie on the porch, watching Shark run around the yard, still full of energy. "It was a perfect day." You said, leaning on Billie's shoulder.

"Yes, it was," Billie agreed, gently kissing the top of your head. "And there will be many more perfect days like this."

Shark came over to you, lying down at your feet with a satisfied sigh. You petted his head, feeling incredibly happy and welcomed. It was as if, in that moment, everything was exactly where it should be.

[jjkeremika]

being friends with the AoT men was… confusing.

(i.e., how i think they’d interact if they had a crush on you and didn’t know how to deal with it)

pairing: Eren, Jean, Reiner, Levi, Porco; all x reader

Eren

Eren would always pick on you, telling you to shut up with a big smile on his face and constantly looking for excuses to touch you, pushing and shoving you to the side whenever you were next to each other.

He would throw pencils and sticks and other small objects at you, anything to get your attention. He’d smirk at your responses, loving the way your eyebrows furrowed together and the way your lips pressed into a pout.

As long as your eyes were on him, he was happy.

Reiner

Reiner’s confident, maybe bordering a little on arrogant, that you’re into him—hell, he thinks everybody’s into him.

He’d stand very close to you, slowly inching closer until your arms were touching, until he could smell your delightful perfume. You’d smile as he’d tell you you smell nice, blush as he’d yawn and slyly (obviously) lay his arm around you as you walked side by side. He’d smirk proudly and preen at the men who looked at him in jealousy.

Jean

Jean would be more traditional in his approach, complimenting your appearance and dress whenever possible. His compliments were always so thoughtful and considerate, the words warming your insides on the cool days.

But he was shy, always speaking so quietly you barely heard him or never actually asking for a night of your time. Instead he’d stare at you heavenly as you passed by, telling himself he’d do it tomorrow.

Levi

Levi is difficult to read, and interacting with him was usually a one-sided dominant conversation, with him silent and watchful, always intense. Sometimes you watched his jaw click, wondering if maybe you were irritating him.

But he locked his jaw and shook his leg vigorously because you were so. fine. and it was taking every ounce of self-control he had to resist pushing you to the ground and bending you over. All his energy had to go into his bouncing leg (which he wished you were on) or gnawing at his lip (which he wished was yours).

Porco

Porco was a different kind of confident. Confident in groups, shy around you. You had caught him staring at you a couple times, to which he’d always frantically looked away or acted like he didn’t know what you were talking about, like he’d zoned out randomly and never zoned back in.

But occassionally when you ran up behind him, shouting his name and preparing to jump onto his shoulders from behind, he turned around and spread out his arms, catching you. He thanked whatever confident spirit possessed him to do it when your faces were mere centimeters apart, a deep red blush shared between you.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Hunter x Reader: Distance

(Author’s Note:  I was trying to think of something to write, and I asked myself “what is something that real couples go through?” Thus, this idea came to be.  Relationships aren’t always sunshine and fluff, and I wanted to write a fic that reflected that. 

Warnings: Relationship troubles, kissy kissy.

Word Count: 1,350).

   Hunter was leaned back in his seat, arms folded behind his head as a makeshift headrest.  His eyes were shut, though it did not look to be in peaceful slumber.  The creases and lines on his face betrayed his troubled mind.  His broad shoulders were weighed down by the responsibility he had to the safety of the crew and the child.  You knew it was difficult for him.  It was for everyone, but he carried a responsibility as leader that the others couldn’t relate to.

   You lingered nearby; close enough to watch him, but far enough to not initiate interaction.  The others, including Omega, were asleep.  Their snores blended with the low hum of the ship traveling through hyperspace in a familiar lullaby.  Despite your distress over the detached sergeant, the sound put a smile on your face.  These quiet moments were precious.  Seeing everyone get their rest was a comfort that helped you settle in between missions.

   Things between you and Hunter had been...off.  What normally was a steady and harmonious relationship had gone cold, distant.  Considering all that the squad had gone through as a whole, it was no surprise that there’d be some strain on you and Hunter’s relationship.

   It still hurt, though.

   Even though you tried to deny it, you felt a twinge in your chest every time Hunter praised Omega for her progress in training or took time to give her extra instruction.

   Of course, you had nothing against the child.  You were delighted to see her find her place in the squad and be loved, as all children deserve to be loved.  You were doing your part to care for her as well and help with her training.  Even so, it stung at times when Hunter had plenty of warmth and time to spare for Omega, but nearly none for you.

   You held back a sigh as you continued to watch Hunter.  No doubt he already knew of your presence.  As he had once told you in the middle of a heated kiss, he was sensitive to it.  He said he could always tell when your lovely heart was near.

   But unlike other instances when he sensed your hesitation to approach, this time he did not usher you to his side.  He didn’t so much as turn, choosing instead to remain in his seat with eyes shut and head back.  It left you dejected.  And bitter.

   You considered marching back down the hall of the Marauder.  At least you’d have the satisfaction of him hearing the indignance with each echoing clang of your boots against the ship’s floor.  The burning hurt you felt inside desperately wished to be known, to make sure that Hunter wouldn’t get away with causing it with his aloofness.

   The thought was quelled by the ache in your chest at the idea of yet another sleep cycle passing without things being resolved.  Another sleep cycle without speaking to him other than the mundane mission terms.  

   “Yes.”  

   “No.”  

   “Fine.”

   This...whatever this was... had lasted long enough.

   You exhaled, letting your shoulders fall a little with the action and unclenching your fists.  You ventured forward until you leaned against the console in front of his chair.  Hunter at least had the decency to open his eyes upon your approach, though he did not move from the comfortable position leaning back in his seat.  He looked up at you expectantly, as if waiting for a request or complaint, which almost infuriated you further.  You never needed to have a reason to speak with him before.  You had to take another deep breath to remain calm.  If you started this conversation the wrong way, it would end up just like the others.

   “Hey,” you greeted, offering a small smile.

   “Hey.”  Hunter paused, as if still waiting for you to elaborate.  You merely turned your gaze to the stars streaking past outside the ship’s view.  Realizing that you weren’t there to make a request, he seemed to relax a bit.  The silence that stretched on after that was a little awkward.

   “You know, I think Omega’s training is coming along quite well,” you spoke up.  It was one topic you knew for sure Hunter would open up about, even if it was just a little.  “I was very impressed watching her at target practice yesterday.”

   There was that smile on his face, that pride in his eyes as if Omega was his own offspring.  Your lips turned up in a smile before you even realized it.  The way Hunter had taken responsibility for the child was always admirable to you, even if lately his actions gave you a pang in your chest.

   “So was I,” he agreed.  “It’s good for her to defend herself.  I just hope she never has to again.”

   “I know,” you nodded, tipping your head to meet his gaze.  “You’re doing well, Hunter.”

   He held it for a moment before glancing away.  “Ah, I still don’t really know what I’m doing.”

   “I don’t think any of us really do.”  You bit your lip as you contemplated your next words.  “But at least we all have each other.  That’s what’s important.”

   He hummed in agreement, but didn’t say anything.  His eyes wandered back toward the view of space, and you started to feel yourself losing him in the conversation.  With a deep breath to gather your courage, you pushed off from the console and took a few steps until you stood directly in front of him.  Hunter stared up at you in surprise, eyes widening when you carefully swung one leg over to straddle him.  His hands hovered near your waist instinctively to steady you, though you noted they didn’t make contact.

   You didn’t say anything for a few moments.  It had been some time since you’d had close contact with him, and it almost seemed foreign.  You gazed into his eyes with watery ones, lips turning up in a hesitant smile.  Hunter looked back at you with his confused expression gradually softening into something else, and you noted the glow of warmth was starting to return to his gaze.

   You lifted a hand to rest on his tattooed cheek, surprised to feel him lean into your touch so vigorously- as if he needed it like he needed air to breathe.  He rubbed his stubbly jaw against your palm with eyes shut, and you brought your other hand to cup the other side of his face.  You finally felt his hands on your waist, and you released a quiet sigh.

   “I’ve missed you,” you whispered.

   Hunter opened his eyes.  The tenderness was paired with pain as he maneuvered to kiss your palm.  “I’ve missed you.”

   The realization that you could’ve had this moment with him sooner caused guilt to creep its way into your features.  “I’m sorry.”

   He shook his head gently.  “It’s my fault.  I know I’ve been... distant.”

   “You’ve got a lot on your mind,” you conceded.

   “But you are the one who makes it better.”  He shook his head again.  “It was silly of me to push you away.  And wrong.”  He looked into your eyes pleadingly, hands gripping your waist tighter.  “Can you forgive me?”

   You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips.  “Already forgiven.”

   He didn’t let you pull away completely, instead bringing his hands up to your elbows to usher to back into another warm kiss.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered against your lips.  You brushed your nose against him lovingly before molding your lips to his again.  One of Hunter’s hands came up to trace along your jaw softly, and you sighed.

   When you separated from the kiss, he was staring lovingly at you.  You shifted so that you were no longer straddling him.  You sat on his lap with both legs draped over the side, head resting on his shoulder, with his arms practically cradling you.  It allowed you both to relish in the intimacy as you carried on a conversation. 

   So many things had gone unsaid in the time you spent apart.  There was some catching-up to do, it seemed.

[ikemenvmpire]

Forget-me-not | Leonardo x Comte x Vlad

a/n: Hello beautiful ppl !!! It’s my first time writing a fic about this troublesome trio. Just to let you know there is no spoilers from Vlad’s route in this two-part series (could be three, you’ll never know). I wanted to showcase my fanon approach to their personal relationships and how they both psychologically and physically get affected by them. It’s quite rushed because of my finals and not proof-read I’m not satisfied with my writing, so please forgive me for possible grammar mistakes. Anyways, if you enjoy the content please interact! Let me know what you think, feedback means a lot to me.

Also my requests are open, I accept nsfw/sfw hcs and one-shots with any suitor you’d like

warning: angst, slight violence, true friends that stab you in the front, couple of sexual innuendos here and there.

word count: 2.1k

The good, the bad and the ugly. The subtle whisper inside of his head reminded him of a broken vinyl that kept dragging the notes of an unwanted invite from his memories.

His memories that lived inside his head as vivid as an Evening Primrose that blooms at night.

Upon hearing the silence that bled into the atmosphere surrounding them, Leonardo slowly settled the empty wine glass onto the glass table beside him.

“You’re too loud for your own good, Comte.”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Comte turned towards the man that now deliberately searched for a match as he continued with his words that caused nothing but confusion.

“The violin stopped but you did not.”

Comte’s gaze dropped on the floor, meeting with the bow of his instrument laying on the polished floor of his quarters.

Still not pleased with Leonardo’s discourse he locked his eyes with his, demanding clarity.

“I can no longer hear anything other than the wheels that are turning in your head” Leonardo concluded, finishing his words with a light chuckle.

“Him-“ Comte’s words cut short by the lump that disturbed his throat and the heavyweight of the regrets he held in, for god knows how long, creating an immense pressure in his chest.

“I thought so” Leonardo continued, observing as the smoke that he held captive between his plush lips now slowly blurred his vision.

The blond leaned his back against the wall, the soft breeze of the midnight made the curtain beside him caress his hand.

“How long do you plan on keeping this up ?” the tone of his voice was stone cold nevertheless the look in his eyes warmed them up as they echoed in the silent room.

“I don’t know.” Comte murmured, he truly had no idea how to get rid of this troublesome burden. If he did, they would be enjoying their wine instead of Comte’s whining.

“Come” the man said as he placed the cigarillo on the ashtray and got up from his comfortable seat.

“Where to-“ the clicking of his shoes stopped as Leonardo turned his head to the side, not bothering to fully face the man that was intently watching him.

“Follow me and don’t worry about the rest.”

Comte, with a swift movement of his head, urged the fallen strand of his hair move to the side as he lowered himself down to the brightly lit candle.

Following his own reflection on the wax as the drop gently slid down to the remaining pile of melted wax, drowning his reflection in the hot liquid.

He softly blew on the fire to put it out. The smoke mixed with the comforting scent of vanilla danced in the air across the smoke of Leonardo’s cigarette, that suffered the same faith as Comte.

The more he missed him, the more his thoughts invaded his mind, burning through his skull. The reminiscences of the memories that were surrounded by his partner with moonlit hair and even brighter smile, turned Comte into ashes. The consequences of his thought train left him hanging like a dark cloud of smoke.

He grabbed his coat from the hanger near him as he directed his steps towards Leonardo’s spot. Pushing himself to leave his room and his worries as he reaches out to the handle of the door to exit.

“Lead the way, Leo.”

The silence brought serenity as the two of them kept walking in the beautiful forest. The sound of the autumn leaves that tremors under the vigorous darkness of the night filled the air, Leonardo held the careless man that wasn’t watching where he was heading to by the arm.

“Here we are.”

Comte turned towards the tall tree that Leonardo leaned his back against, questioning the unfamiliar feeling that had his head turning.

Leonardo lifted his fist up as he slammed it down againts the tree. His unexpected harsh movement caused Comte to wear a dumbfounded expression. It also urged the nightingales that were previously settled on the branches of the same tree to bat their wings away as they sung a song through the night.

“Hide and seek.” Comte uttered, breathlessly as the rest of the memories poured into his subconscious.

“Ah, there we go. Vlad used to pull this stunt each time.”

Comte laughed, taking a couple of steps back as he fell onto the soft surface of the grass. His childish behavior made Leonardo lose his composure, making two purebloods roar with laughter.

“...and yet you fell for it. Each time.” Upon his shameless accusation, Leonardo frowned and kicked the pile of leaves ahead of him, making them rain on the man that laughed like a maniac.

Comte seeked shelter from his own arms as he let his back fall completely flat on the moist grass. Staining every piece of clothing item he had on.

“No matter my loss, you bought the beers. Sounds like victory to me.” Leonardo responded nonchalantly.

“I am still curious to know why would you hide behind a tree again and again, it’s ridiculously obvious.” Comte continued to laugh as he seemingly couldn’t stop himself even if he tried.

“Because it’s easier to hide behind it than to climb it” said Leonardo as a matter of fact.

Comte knew that his response could be interpreted with a single word rather than a whole phrase.

Lazy.

“It’s good to see you smile” he continued as he stared at the horizon.

Comte felt so close yet so far for the past couple of dawns this week. Leonardo surprised himself by being this worrisome of his friend, it was unexpected of him to act or feel this way.

“It hurts.” The painful hue of his tone caught Leonardo off guard.

He directed his gaze towards his feet as he tried to force out the appropriate words to describe how much he was hurting from within. Hoping that him spilling his guts to the only one he trusts, somehow would help lifting some of it’s weight off of his shoulders.

“Comte-“

“What did I do to make him push me away like he did back then ?”

Leonardo decided to seal his parted lips as he followed Comte’s soliloquy with absolute attention.

“I gave him all I had and all I was. My trust, respect and loyalty for him was indubitable.”

He continued, closing his eyes shut. The tension bled from his fingertips, through his soft locks. He clinged on his hair as he concentrated on the darkness behind his fluttering eyelids.

“It wasn’t enough” Leonardo added, carelessly kicking the rock in front of his feet. He knew that greed was more than welcome in Vlad’s vocabulary.

His world wasn’t tainted by useless distractions. He was either black or white, whereas those who considered him a friend lived under a gray sky.

“I wasn’t enough” Comte whispered, his words fell from his lips lighter than a feather.

Leonardo lowered himself to his level as he suddenly grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. Easily picking him up and capturing him between his strong hold and the tree.

Comte’s pulse quickened thanks to the adrenaline of the moment. His warm but fast breathing felt warm against Leonardo’s cheek.

“You.”

“Look at me and listen to me carefully because I will say this only once.”

“...and I will not see you whimper about shit that you can’t fix ever again.”

Comte, nervous as he was, found comfort in his vulgar action. The harsh friction against his back and even harsher words that tickled his ears made him come back to his senses.

“What would I do without you ?” Leonardo’s brows furrowed in response to Comte’s utterly sappy words.

“Presumably, what you do without me.”

Unanticipated voice that traveled through the depths of the forest made both of them turn their heads slowly as Leonardo’s hands abandoned Comte’s collar.

“Vlad.”

His soft chuckle concealed the suspense of unsolved matters. The air that Comte inhaled now felt sharper than a blade. Vlad’s presence left a bittersweet taste on his tongue. The type he didn’t want to get rid of but also the one he didn’t want to recall.

“Long time no see” Leonardo added, emotionlessly.

“You sound overjoyed Leonardo” Vlad responded, not disturbing his calm and collected aura, not even the slightest.

Comte huffed as he patted on the expensive material of his coat, trying to look more presentable.

“Why are you here ?” He hissed, avoiding possible eye contact in any way he could.

Vlad placed his hand on the inner side of his coat and dragged out a thin velvet envelope. Nearing towards his position, Comte fixed his posture, standing tall with overpowering feeling of manifactured confidence.

Vlad offered him a delightful smile as he raised the blood red envelope between his fingers and brushed the fallen strand of hair in front of Comte’s face with it.

The sharp edge of the envelope traced the delicate skin of his face, the sensation left him almost nervous. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, covering the his body with goosebumps.

Vlad, at last, pressed the envelope on Comte’s chest, where the palm of his hand found his heartbeat.

Comte’s words deceived his true intentions, he couldn’t comprehend how everything felt like the way it did in the past.

The pain felt fresh but what tore his heart apart was the agonizing disappointment.

“Care to explain ?” He said, ignoring the dark cloud of regret that struck thunders above him as he glued his eyes on Vlad’s.

“There’s not much to say when you can just see the things the way they are.”

Leonardo threw his head back as he let out a condescending laugh, letting his tongue wander on his bottom lip.

“Are you still hanging out with Shakespeare ? Where does this literacy come from ?”

“Depends on how you interpret ‘hanging out’.” Vlad lowered his gaze towards his hands with an unreadable smirk, the hands that earlier this encounter found their way up on playwright’s neck.

Comte distracted by the mysterious item that he held, ripped the envelope as the velvet paper revealed a flower with soft purple pedals stained with crimson blood.

The sharp scent got the honey tint of his eyes leaving it’s place to the darkness of his fully dilated pupils under the shock of realization.

The same scent belonged to none other than the new resident of his mansion.

Then the realization hit him, not faster than he hit the devil in disguise.

Vlad landed on his back as his heels dug on the fresh soil with the force of Comte’s blow.

“What did you do to them ?” He spat, the pressure of his clenched teeth visible upon his sharp jaw.

Not amused by his response, that consisted of silence and arrogance, Leonardo held him by his long locks and yanked his head back with the sole purpose of looking down on him.

“He asked you a question, didn’t he ?”

Vlad hissed at his gesture, nevertheless entertained by the burst of untamed hatred.

“I’ve heard.”

He let his eyes stray on his sharp features, a flash of remembrance struck him.

“I don’t think that you would be pleased to hear what I have to say.” His smirked widened, so did Comte’s eyes.

Running out of patience and will power, Comte rushed towards him to wipe the amusement out of his face.

Unbeknownst to him, Vlad was more than ready to wrap his hand around the slender wrist that was aiming to hit him square on the face.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves shall we ?” He muttered as he pulled Comte towards him with a strong grip.

Leonardo watched the scene unfold right in front of his eyes, taking a step forward only to back down afterwards. He decided that letting Comte get trashed would help him come to terms with his unsolved inner matters.

Unsolved matters, unanswered questions that constantly fed his break-point.

Comte struggled to get out of his grip. His nails dug into his flesh, the sweet pain drove his senses wild.

“Tomorrow at 12 a.m., sharp.” He said, placing his warm lips closer to Comte’s ear.

Vlad let his wrist free and stood up, for a short instant none of them seemed to move or speak.

There was a lot to talk about but their emotions lacked words, their questions lacked answers and their actions lacked sincerity.

Vlad turned his back against Comte and directed his gaze towards the bloody flower on the floor. Recalling his memento for one last time.

“Don’t make me wait” was his last command. Cold and ruthless, no sign of mercy or compassion.

Then the farewell of his footsteps followed.

Trust is as safe as a gun afterall.

It doesn’t kill unless it’s in the hands of those who know how to pull the trigger.

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be tagged): @leonardoism @hotanekooo @ranhanabi777 @chaotic-coyote @thedollarstoresatan @justsomepersons @stardust-dreamer13 @nishtharya

Part 2 is coming

[isoscele]

Lumberjanes Week Day 1 - First Day of Summer

(This is longer, weirder, and later than I wanted it to be, but isn’t that the spirit of the week?)

                                                        --------- Jo’s last exam is electrical engineering, and she finishes twenty minutes early. Dr. Quispe winks at her as she turns it in, and Jo tries to smile. The constant fog of formulae and diagrams dissipates from her head, replaced by a more all-consuming calculation.

One hour, six minutes to go.

She drops by her room, picks up the single backpack sitting on the bare mattress. On her way out, Gabi pops out of the lounge. “All done?”

Jo’s smile softens, takes on something real. “Yup. You?”

“I still have an essay, but I’ll probably do it at home. Got any big summer plans?”

“Kind of.” She shifts her backpack higher on her shoulders, silently debating how much to say. “I’m going camping with some friends.”

“Oh, cool,” Gabi says. “I wouldn’t’ve pegged you as an outdoorsy type, Jo.”

“Oh, you know.” Something under her skin humming, some outdated circuitry splitting into life. Forty-nine minutes. “In certain circumstances.”

Gabi giggles. As is the case with every one of their sporadic interactions, Jo wonders if they’re flirting. “Have fun! Don’t get eaten by a bear!”

She swans back toward her laptop and empty M&M packet. If she’d looked back for just a moment, she might have wondered what she had said to make Jo look so devastated. 

                                                       ---------

Mal has a pickup truck. It’s disgusting, with a windshield wiper that sounds like a dying macaw and a clutch that, for two heart-stopping seconds at the beginning of each gear shift, refuses to move at all. Mal has always defended it with a vigor previously only saved for her best friends and favorite bands.

Jo slides into the passenger seat. The radio is blasting heavy metal and the interior smells shockingly of mayonnaise; she has to blink hard to hold back her tears. There are some things that are so beautiful, so precious that it’s impossible to look at them head-on. Jo always forgets, when she’s away.

“You’re in the bus lane,” she tells Mal.

Mal obligingly starts the very long process of getting her car to move. “I thought the idea behind going to fancy science school with adults was that bus lanes were no longer necessary. Also, it’s fucking amazing to see you.”

“The buses shuttle students around campus. Also, I’m delighted that you’re here and I want to give you a hug.”

“Motion passed,” Mal says, and they squeeze awkwardly over the two melted Frosties in the cupholders.

The car jolts into first gear hard enough to throw Jo into the seatbelt, and then suddenly she’s laughing so hard she has to hold her sides to keep herself from spilling over. 

“Sorry!” Mal says, “sorry, she’s jumpy around strangers,” which is what she says every summer. It’s a terrible joke laced with an irrefutable affection, and it’s so Mal that it makes Jo laugh even harder.

“We’re not strangers,” Jo says. She pats the center console, feels a little of the polyester flake off on her hand. “Me and this truck go way back.”

“Well, let’s hope you and this truck go way forward, too,” Mal says, “because I’m really not sure the engine’s going to last us to California.”

                                                     ---------

They pull into the trailhead at around six the next morning, and make silent work of the luggage in the back. The sun’s just starting to come up, blinking warily between the table pines. Mal waves her on, and Jo sets off along the winding path.

The first year or two, they mostly stuck to campgrounds and RV parks, warming hot chocolate on the camp stove despite persistent, obnoxious heat. Jo didn’t think much of it at the time, but now she knows that Molly was trying not to inconvenience them, trying to keep them to the shallows of the forests. Trying to keep anyone from going too far, getting too stuck. 

The fact that they were instructed to bring backpacking gear this year doesn’t do much to assuage the constant thread of worry in the back of her mind. This isn’t something they can dip their toes in anymore; the world is always a more dire place than they left it last summer.

The hike is long and treacherous. They go off the trail almost immediately, but neither of them need a map. It sounds cliche to say that they’re following something else, but they are. The anxious chitter of the birds and the sun balking at the edges of the trees and the distant hush of a river form a clear topography in their minds. They walk without discussion, taking each turn as naturally as if they had always lived here. 

Around mile seven, they start to hear voices. Mal breaks into a run, and Jo comes crashing after her. 

They knock straight into April, who catches both of them with practiced ease. For a moment, the air splits with three different calls of incomprehensible joy, and then they’re lowering themselves to the moss as a single, complex organism.

“Holy Felicia Flames, you guys look great!” April hollers.

“I have so much to tell you,” Mal says.

“Are you trying to set the forest on fire?” Jo asks, wandering over to where April has piled an impressive set of branches and old newspaper. She must have packed most of it in herself; the trees around here don’t look like that.

“Might make our job easier,” April says, and then a grim silence falls over the clearing. 

I’m going camping with some friends, Jo had said, as if it was just camping, as if they were just friends. As if Jo’s relationship with these people, the things they had to do together, could be described in such a mundane and immaterial way. As if Jo won’t sit at the fire with them tonight, watching the way the sparks clear the shadows around their eyes, and love them with everything she has in her. As if she won’t hate them, too, for making her come here.

Here they are, in the annual half-second when they don’t know what to say to each other. The moment when the summer teeters, still soft and blameless, on the edge of something sharper. 

But then April asks Mal how the band’s doing, and the moment passes.

“I wish I’d thought to bring pictures,” Mal says. “We played at this amazing venue last January--there was this skylight, and it was pouring rain, and people just kept coming in because it was so miserable outside.”

“Aw, that’s great,” April says. “I’d love to come someday, but y’all sell out so fast!”

Mal scratches the back of her neck, looking embarrassed. “Yeah, sometimes.”

“What are we talking about?” Ripley half-shouts. Jo yelps, and then that turns into more laughter, which turns into an incredible group hug. For someone who carries no fewer than three kazoos on her person at all times, Ripley can be surprisingly stealthy when she wants to. Jo never hears her approaching anymore; first, there’s nothing, and then there’s Ripley.

April hugs Ripley so hard she lifts her off the ground. Ripley immediately starts listing all the weird birds she’s seen this year and asking April to cross-reference them with her encyclopedia of creatures.

And then, of course, there are four.

Jo drifts half a step closer to Mal and extends her hand. Without tearing her gaze from the blot of trees, Mal takes it.

Last year, Molly had been sort of--sick. They’d been camping on a bauld where eagles circled high overhead and the flowers were all this terrible saffron yellow, bent under the shadow of the rocks. Molly had walked with a stick, like the Bear Woman--like Nellie used to use, thick and gnarled. But she said that was temporary, just because of a bad fall, and no one talked about how her freckles had almost overtaken the white of her hands, how her eyes were spotted with yellow and seemed to constantly rove towards the sky.

No one had mentioned much of anything, because the year before that they had buried Nellie in the soft earth beside the lake and they had all tacitly agreed not to talk about it. Maybe that’s what growing up is like--finding more and more things that no one is willing to say. Holding a grief in you that sometimes feels so bright and all-consuming that it can’t possibly be real.

“She’ll be okay,” Jo says, quiet so as not to kill April and Ripley’s buzz. “The forest loves her.”

But that’s a cold comfort, because they have all spent the same six summers learning that the forest’s love can be the most terrifying force in the world.

                                                   ---------

It doesn’t take long at all before a familiar sound comes rolling in from the mountain. It’s a sound like dinosaurs, like goliaths, like the world collapsing in on itself.

It’s a sound that heralds the approach of Bubbles, who these days is about the size of a house. 

I don’t know! Molly had said, laughing, the first time they had seen him again. I guess he was just a baby when we met him. I’ve been feeding him a lot of peanut butter lately, maybe that’s it. 

Bubbles crashes through the trees, chittering so loud that it sounds like the laughter of a god. On his back, perched awkwardly against the scruff of his neck, sits Molly.

She does look okay. Their home hasn’t killed her yet.

There’s a little more white in her hair, a little more curl to her fingernails. But she’s smiling so wide it’s almost like they’re just here to catch up, like just for today they can afford to be a group of friends and nothing else.

Later, of course, will come the campfire, and the birds falling silent, and even the cicadas forgetting to cry, and they will map out another fraction of the world. They’ll find another dozen stone men, sleeping still enough to be dead. They’ll find perhaps hundreds of potential apocalypses, and they’ll spend the month eating little and sleeping less, preventing the end of the world again and again and again until they can’t even remember what they’re saving. 

But right now, Molly slides down Bubbles’ side and yells “Guys!” and the summer bursts into being. 

[bibliocratic]

👀if prompts still desired maybe jonmartin bath time??

unrelenting jonmartin fluff (soft soft soft, 160 do not interact). Thanks for the prompt!

Jon's being a one-man percussion band in the kitchen when Martin gets back. Clattering pans and clanking bowls and cutlery and tugging open drawers. The house is wreathed in the smells of spices that set off a tingling heat at the back of his throat.

The flavour is muted a little. Taste buds flat. The weather outside isn't dipping into single figures but it seems to have gotten under Martin's coat anyway, turning skin chilled and clammy.

In the past, he might have considered that he was coming down with something. A mild cold, a bout of the sniffles combated with Lemsip and cough sweets.

Martin knows a bit better now.

He kicks off his shoes without undoing the laces, throws his rucksack down to join the pile.

“That you?” Jon calls out.

Martin moves on socked feet into the tiled kitchen. Jon's trying to stir at least three pans at once, and a great waft of steam from the oven plumes in the air to throng like dragon's breath as he opens it to peer at his creations.

“Good day at work?” Jon asks, pecking Martin distractedly on the cheek before darting around him to stir something vigorously.

“Hmm,” Martin says non-committally. In truth it was regular, and uneventful, but he felt the numbness start to seep in as he sat on the Tube. He worries his lip with his teeth, wonders if he should say something at all. And it's not bad, not as it can be, and maybe it will go away in its own time, maybe Martin can deal with it alone.

But in the end, he comes up to wrap his arms bodily around Jon, his face smushed into his loose-hanging hair, pungent and twisted up with spices.

“You alright?” Jon asks, stilling for a moment, stopping to touch at the arms that have encircled him to try and ground themselves.

Martin doesn't answer for a moment. The kitchen is heavy with steam, he knows, not fog. It's a hard lesson to remember sometimes is all.

“A bit Cold, I guess,” he replies quietly after a while.

Jon knows what he means. The flat's a balmy mid-twenties in comparison to the mild outside, but that's not what he means.

Jon's hands pause before they run soothingly over Martin's exposed arms, and he turns to return the grip tightly, a haven of warm present body, before he pulls back, touches his palm against Martin's cheek briefly.

“I'll run a bath,” he says decidedly, and his eyes catch Martin's with the steadiness of waves and do not falter.

He angles his body around, briskly flicking the heat down on what was probably going to be their dinner, moving the pans off the heat so they don't burn. Whatever is in the oven clearly needs longer, because he rakes his eyes over it dismissively.

“Unless you're hungry, first?” he asks, looking back.  “It's nearly ready if you do.”

Food sounds nice, but only objectively, and Martin's already shaking his head in answer. There's a warning mutedness beginning to carpet the bottom of him, a dim night held back by the beacon of Jon's gaze. The fog burning off slowly.

A nod, like Jon had expected it. And this has not been the only night like this, so maybe he did.

Jon enfolds their hands together.

“Come on,” he says. His voice is kind, and that's never died, no matter how the world bricked it up and starved it of sunlight.  Jon's kind to his bones, and it wells up from the deep down of him.

Jon pulls the way, and Martin follows behind.

Martin sits on the closed toilet seat while Jon runs the bath. He sets his palms against his knees like he's trying to trap the vestiges of heat Jon left.

Jon will return, he knows. It's difficult, sometimes, to remember that. But Jon showed him that. Showed, he supposes. The constancy of this hard-won fellowship.

Jon approaches this preparation like he approaches cooking – a slapdash impatient alchemy where he adds things too soon because he can't bear to wait, dropping in whatever he unbottles, sniffs with a curious 'hm' as though he wants to see what will happen.

The bathroom mirror fogs up, but it's a tight close warmth, and Jon chatters away. Not expecting Martin to respond, aware that it's an ask of him at the moment but nonetheless leaving little doors in the conversation by which Martin might enter.

He splashes water onto his own shirt while testing the temperature of the water. He grumbles, a heatless little 'for the love of...' that trails off as he tries to twist the worst of it out, brow creased. Martin studies him, and a smile touches the corners of his lips at the sight.

Finally, Jon pronounces it ready. Martin stands, goes to take off his shirt but Jon bats his hands away, says 'Honestly, would you stop fussing and let me take care of you?' with a teasing rhythm, words furrowed into familiarity by time. Martin, recalling the lines of his role going rusty in his throat, pretends to roll his eyes, mutters 'Fine' like it's the greatest of burdens, and he's rewarded by the flickering delight of Jon's smile. Something is beginning to thaw at the base of him.  

If that didn't work to banish the shadows in him, the bathwater does. Jon, apparently formed of some volcanic rock and uncaring of lesser mortals who don't take such joy in heat as he does, has drawn the bath far too hot. Even when they cool it with lashings of cold water, Martin's skin is still prickling pink and near-scalded as he gets in, folds his too-long legs in the space to fit.

Things start to unwind inside him, and he hums. Jon looks ever so smugly pleased at such an indicator of success.

“I'll be back, just a minute,” he promises. He touches Martin's shoulder, and the contact leaves an equally scalding heat as the water.

Outside the bathroom, Jon's doing something in the kitchen, making his usual racket, before Martin hears footsteps across the hallway to their bedroom.

Martin splashes idly for a while. Messing with the bubbles – too many as usual. The heat makes his head muggy and unspooled, but it is not muted, not with the sounds of life from the rest of the flat. The slosh and fizz of over-bubbled bathwater. It is not lonely.

Jon returns quickly, opening the door and closing it again to shut them inside the sauna they've made of their small bathroom.  He's removed his socks, replaced jeans with pyjama shorts, and he goes back to the cabinet over the sink, drawing out bottles like potions from a magician's cabinet, soaks and gels and shampoos and scents, discarding a great number with a dismissive clatter.

“You can be a bit louder,” Martin mumbles. “I think downstairs might not have heard you yet.”

Jon doesn't give him a response except for a haughty 'humpf', and Martin buries his smile in the  bubbles.

It crosses his mind, a stray knifing chill of a breeze to apologise, for all this fuss, for needing this; surely Jon must be hungry, he must have made plans that Martin wouldn't have derailed if he'd grit his teeth and gotten on with it, surely this is asking too much....

Those aren't his thoughts. It's easier to see the barbs they try and snag against his mind. He knows what Jon will say to any voicing of them, and he knows that they're not worth listening to.

He sinks a little lower under the water and allows himself to be taken care of.

Jon doesn't even hiss when his feet splash into the water, the salamander. There's a short ledge by Martin's head, on the opposite end to the taps where bottles usually throng and spawn, where Jon always leaves the empty ones for Martin to find and grumble at. Jon's shifted them so he can sit there, his potions in close reach. He's brought a plastic jug, and he positions himself so Martin's head is framed by his lanky worm-scratched legs.

“Any requests?” he says, his fingers threading and fiddling with the coils of Martin's hair, tussling it  indulgently. Martin tilts his head back so he sees Jon upside down, and sleepily mumbles a no.

Jon rolls up his sleeves, leans down with obvious difficulty to press a close-mouthed kiss to Martin's crown.

“The works then, I think,” he responds, and no more is said.

Jon hums while he works. Old and sad songs that rise and coil and spiral with the rising heat.

Martin falls asleep in increments. Eyes fluttering heavy and hooded as Jon massages and lathers a cedarwood scented shampoo into his hair, limbs softened to immobile by the water as he carefully washes the suds out with water, hands on his face to shield his eyes. He's not sure how awake he is when Jon's hands starts to knead conditioner into his curls, paying devoted attention to every damp and tearaway lock.

When he wakes, he feels the water lapping lukewarm around him, and Jon's shaking his shoulder a little.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Jon says, and Martin blinks blearily. “How are you feeling?”

Martin pauses before he replies. He used to say 'fine' or 'ok' automatically, like a gag reflex, learned by rote and dutifully doled out, but he's getting better, he thinks, at expressing what he feels.

“Wet,” he replies finally, and Jon's brow crinkles in confusion before he sighs at the soft, teasing tone, still muddy with stupor.

“Out then, funny-man, before you start pruning,” he replies. It's a little too late for that. The ends of Martin's fingers have scrunched up at their ends with the damp.

Jon bundles him into one of the thickest towels that he clearly put on the radiator to heat, uses another scraggier one to scrub at his hair to get most of the water out. Martin mostly stands, feeling just a little overwhelmed, stupefied by the steadfast weight of Jon's affection. And he's not Cold, not even in the slightest; the Lonely's an old refrain too distant to hear, not with Jon reminding him so completely that he's loved, and cared for. That he's allowed to have this.

Jon presses a kiss to his cheek like he's signing off his work, then leans in for another, slower one. Martin returns it sleepily, his limbs heavy and body leaning in, but his face caught by a smile.

Jon holds up the weight of him like it's nothing at all.

[thirstforfleck]

you belong to me~Arthur Fleck x Reader

summary: it’s a rainy day in gotham. you and arthur have a romantic dinner at home and slow dance to romantic tunes.

warnings: none? just lots of fluff

word count: 1,774

notes:Hello, all. This is my very first piece of writing I’m posting to this site. I’m not the BEST writer there ever was (some of you are absolutely amazing and my writing does not compare to yours) so please don’t be too hard on me. I was heavily influenced by You Belong to Me by Jo Stafford for this piece of writing. I think my writing went downhill at the halfway point because I’m three glasses of wine in and have just been writing from my feels. Been feelin’ romantic all day. (also I made this as gender neutral as possible) hope you enjoy :)

Gotham City was damp, chilly, and more uninviting than usual that night. The severe thunderstorm warning was not to be taken lightly. Bright flashes of lightening lit up the sky, followed by Earth-shattering rumbles of thunder. You watched out the window as the rain fell at a 45 degree angle. Debris and leaves in the filthy streets below danced in a funnel shape. You loved thunderstorms. The sound of the rain pelting the roof was soothing and the smell of petrichor delighted your senses. 

The sky’s grumbles and the low vocals of Al Bowlly lilted through the apartment. Arthur hummed as he moved about in the kitchen. He was preparing fettuccine alfredo for dinner. Arthur was an amazing cook, preparing some of your favorite comfort foods on a weekly basis: blueberry pancakes on Sunday mornings, grilled cheese and tomato soup on Friday afternoons (provided he wasn’t working), and spaghetti with marinara on Wednesday evenings. You usually got off work earlier than Arthur, so most of the time you would fix a hot meal for when he got home from a long day at Ha-Ha’s. 

“Darlin’, dinner is ready,” Arthur called to you.

You turned from the window and walked to the kitchen. “I’ll help you set the table.”

You set the table in the corner of the living room while Arthur poured the pasta into a bowl. In the meantime, you aggressively pulled the cork out of your bottle of Chardonnay. You poured yourself a healthy amount. Arthur took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the faucet. Alcohol messed with his many medications so he didn’t drink.

“Artie, this smells absolutely amazing,” you enthused, taking a seat.

“Anything for my love,” Arthur smiled from across the table.

You and Arthur ate in comfortable silence, exchanging sweet glances. The creamy sauce melted in your mouth. You hummed as you savored the meal bite by bite. Arthur was a self-taught cook, serving his mother for many years. There were stacks of recipe books throughout the apartment, from which Arthur took inspiration. 

After cleaning your plate, you helped yourself to another serving. Arthur only enjoyed a small portion. He never had a large appetite. He lit a cigarette for dessert. “This is incredible,” you spoke. “Seriously.” You took every chance you could get to boost Arthur’s self-esteem. You have helped him so much in the past year you’ve been together. He was more confident in his comedy, his cooking, and even just in his daily interactions with the public.

Arthur was glowing. “Thank you, darling,” he smiled. He started to clear the table, when you reached your arm out to stop him.

“I’ll do it,” you insisted. “You cooked, I’ll clean.”

Arthur paused. “Are you sure?” Arthur hated asking people for help. In the past, he was always denied help from those he asked. He was always used to completing tasks himself. The only time he truly asked for help was from his therapist, and even when it came to her, Arthur didn’t think she truly cared to help. Arthur was still not used to you assisting him, whether it was with housekeeping or ideas for jokes, or even something as simple as trimming his hair. 

You nodded. “Just let me finish eating and I’ll clean.”

Arthur gave you a toothy grin. He leaned across the table and planted a kiss on your lips. The blend of butter, salt, and cheese on your lips tasted heavenly to Arthur. You giggled into the kiss. “I love you,” he sang.

“I love you, too,” you said. 

You devoured your second helping and started clearing the table. Arthur sat on the couch, relishing another cigarette. After storing the leftovers and washing the dishes, you poured yourself a second glass of wine. The thunder and lightening seemed to have left the atmosphere but the rain was still coming down strong. 

The dim light of the apartment combined with the gloomy clouds just barely seen through the windows made for a romantic setting in the apartment. You walked towards Arthur, making intense eye contact with him. His legs were spread, feet flat on the floor. He put his cigarette out in the ashtray next to him. You placed your wine glass on the coffee table. Gently, you climbed onto his lap and straddled him. Your hands brushed the hair out of his eyes and gingerly held his face. His brilliant green eyes twinkled. For a man as young as he was, he had deep forehead wrinkles and crow’s feet carved into his face. You didn’t mind: in fact, it made him more handsome if that was even possible. You adored the scar above his lip, from an accident he was involved in as a child (he didn’t go into great detail). You pressed a kiss to his upper lip, then to the corners of his mouth. “You are so good to me, Arthur Fleck,” you sighed. Your hands found their way to the nape of his neck, entwining your fingers in his thick, dark curls. 

Arthur’s breathing eased. Playing with his hair was his biggest weakness. He adored your tender strokes throughout his mess of hair and your fingernails giving him light scalp massages. “I could say the same thing about you, Y/N,” he whispered. 

Your lips touched his. Kissing you was the closest place to Heaven on Earth for Arthur. The way you treated him and cared for him made him feel like the only man in the world. He never thought he would find his one and only, but he did. It was you.

You pulled away with a soft smile. You just noticed the Al Bowlly record stopped playing, the fuzz at the end of the record playing on loop. “Oh, geez!” You jumped off Arthur and on to your feet. Shuffling over to the record player, you began to examine the records. There were ancient 78’s from his mother, a few 45’s of his absolute favorite songs, and mostly the standard 33 1/3’s. You found your favorite album: the latest compilation album of Jo Stafford’s greatest hits. Arthur gifted it to you last Christmas and you listened to it on repeat for weeks. You’re surprised you didn’t wear out the needle on the turntable. 

The first song of the album was ‘You Belong To Me,' arguably Jo Stafford’s biggest hit. Her deep, elegant voice sent chills down your spine. This song in particular made you shed tears many times in the past. It reminded you of Arthur. You placed the record on the turntable and set the needle on the first groove. The marimba and Jo’s vocals played softly through the speakers. You turned the volume up almost as loud as it could go. 

“Come on, Artie. Dance with me,” you approached him with your arms extended. Arthur couldn’t resist dancing with you. Every night after Live! with Murray Franklin, he would dance with you to the closing song, ‘That’s Life’. He was truly a romantic at heart, and his actions proved it. 

Arthur grabbed ahold of your hands and you tugged him off the couch. “How can I resist you, Y/N?” he smiled at you. Your right hand and his left hand clasped together. Your left hand snaked its way up his back and clasped onto his shoulder. His right hand found your waist and caressed it. 

See the pyramids along the Nile

Watch the sunrise on a tropic isle

Just remember, darling, all the while

You belong to me

Jo Stafford’s passionate ballad carried through the apartment as you and Arthur swayed to the tune. 

See the marketplace in old Algiers

Send me photographs and souvenirs

Just remember when a dream appears

You belong to me

You held your gaze with Arthur, never breaking the connection. He was stunning, caring, intelligent, gentle, talented, all the positive words in the dictionary. And he was yours. Your soulmate. Your person. The love of your life. Yours. 

I’ll be so alone without you

Maybe you’ll be lonesome too and blue

You couldn’t help but tear up at that line. It was true. Before Arthur, you were lonely. Living a life that consisted only of work and sleep. You didn’t think such a love like his existed. 

Fly the ocean in a silver plane

See the jungle when it’s wet with rain

Just remember ’til you’re home again

You belong to me

Arthur noticed the tears that created a film over your eyes. “My love, what’s wrong?” he spoke softly. His hands embraced your cheeks. His thumbs stroked over the tears that sparingly dripped from your eyes.

You shook your head, your eyes now making contact with his socks. “Nothing, I…” your voice trailed. Your eyes met his once again and you smiled tearfully. You could hear the thunder come rolling back in and echo throughout Gotham City. Jo Stafford’s beautiful voice was building with vigor, overpowering Mother Nature. 

I’ll be so alone and without you

Maybe you’ll be lonesome too and blue

“Nothing is wrong, Arthur,” you spoke softly. “I just… I don’t deserve you and I love you so much. I don’t know what I would do with myself if you left me.”

Arthur’s right hand trailed down your shoulder as his left hand held your chin. He felt the exact same way. Before you, he was the shell of a man. In his mind, he had nothing left to live for. Until, he met you. You sincerely loved him for who he was. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve you, but he was grateful. He counted his blessings every day because of you. “Hey, silly. I’m not going anywhere. I am never, ever leaving you. You are the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. Letting you go would… well, it would be the biggest mistake of my life.” You chuckled shyly, more tears falling. Arthur kissed away your salty tears. “I love you, Y/N.”

Fly the ocean in a silver plane

See the jungle when it’s wet with rain

But remember, darling, ’til you’re home again

You belong to me

“I love you too, Arthur,” you smiled. You and Arthur locked lips. Arthur’s arms encircled you and squeezed, holding you as close as humanly possible. Your arms found their way around his neck. The warm, romantic embrace gave you both a fuzzy feeling inside, something you both couldn’t describe. Nevertheless, you both knew it was something you never wanted to let go of. You had found each other: you were soulmates. It was as simple as that.

tagging my girl @freewriterofdarkness​ bc she wanted to read it :) also, if you would like to be tagged in future works, please let me know :)

[possiblyelvenart]

Love Language

[link to Ao3 | part 2 in a series]

Sidon found himself outside the royal library one afternoon, fidgeting with his hands. Before he could lose his nerve, he plastered a confident smile on his face and walked inside, back straight as though nothing in the world could ruffle him. The handful of scholars in sight greeted him with all the obeisance due his rank, but he waved it off, unwilling to run through all the motions when he had something else on his mind. He strode over to one of the scholars, a man he’d remembered as old even when Sidon was just a child.

“Tepem, may I speak with you a moment?”

The man blinked behind his glasses, seemingly taken aback. Sidon couldn’t say he blamed him - while he dutifully went through his studies, it wasn’t as if Sidon had been a fantastic student. He always spent more time at the training grounds, dreaming of high adventure on the open seas rather than old scrolls and books. Still, Tepem smiled at him, nodding once. “Of course, your highness.”

Sidon beamed back at him. “If someone were unable to speak, and couldn’t write, what options might they have for communication?”

Tepem adjusted his glasses. “Well, I would say Subaqueous Sign Language would do, your highness.”

“Subaqueous…?” Sidon’s eyes went wide, fingers flexing as he tried to control his excitement.

“Yes, your highness. The signs were first developed for explorers of the coastlines and seas surrounding the domain, for communication underwater. A good number of people now use it on land as well, when they either will not or cannot speak.”

“Excellent!” Sidon grabbed the man’s hands, unable to help himself. The scholar pulled back slightly, but let the prince do as he pleased with a bemused smile. “Can you teach me, Tepem?”

“Ah, not I, I’m afraid. I only know the very basics myself.” Before Sidon’s smile could fully fade, Tepem hurried to add, “but there is a woman who works in the scriptorium who knows it well. Her daughter is unable to speak, as you suggested, and communicates almost entirely through sign.”

“Can you have her brought to me, as soon as possible?”

“Indeed, your highness. Would you like to wait here, or…?”

Sidon waved a hand. “My chambers, Tepem. I’d rather not humiliate myself in front of all these fine scholars.” He grinned, gesturing to the others, some of whom hid smiles behind their hands.

“Never, your highness,” Tepem agreed, but Sidon could hear the laughter in his voice.

“Why is it that you wanted to learn sign, your highness?”

Sidon looked at his new teacher, startled. Hamara was a sweet old woman with a warm voice, the very image of maternal care. Something in the back of his mind whispered that he knew that sort of care, once, but his own mother had died long before even Mipha. He’d quickly shed decorum with her, as he tended to do with any of the staff that he interacted with for long. Instead, he took to the lessons with a vigor that he had lacked in any other subject, determined to be able to understand Link the next time they met. He should have figured that someone, if not Hamara herself, would have noticed the difference.

Sidon shook his head, waving a hand with forced airiness. “Well, as you said, your daughter primarily uses this to communicate, yes? And she’s certainly not the only one. A good ruler ought to be able to converse with all of their subjects, I would think.”

Hamara watched him, dark brown eyes shrewd, and he got the uncomfortable feeling that she could see into his soul. “A wise thought indeed, your highness. Surely you could simply use a translator, though.”

“A translator can be imprecise. Their agenda may be different than the original speaker’s.” Sidon leaned his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand as he thought. He wasn’t even thinking of Link, now, but all the language lessons that had been drilled into his head as a child. He had been fascinated to find translators moving words and phrases around from the way he learned them and heard them from native speakers, visitors to the royal court. As he grew, it made him more uncomfortable, noticing that some changed the meaning, making the visitors seem either more or less sympathetic than Sidon found their original statements. He’d decided at that point to learn as many languages as he could, at least their basics, rather than rely on others. “I would like to hear from the source as often as possible, to form my own conclusions.”

Hamara nodded, continuing to watch him in silence for a long moment. Just when Sidon was about to open his mouth again to ask if something was wrong, a sad smile came onto the old woman’s face. “Your mother would have been very proud of you, my prince.”

Sidon jolted forward, nearly falling out of his chair. “You knew my mother?”

“Oh yes, your highness. A sweet, kind woman, very like your sister. Your appetite for justice and socializing come from her, I’m quite certain of it.”

The prince gaped at his teacher, then placed his hands on his knees, leaning forward with a grin. “Tell me more, Hamara, please!” Very few people spoke of the late queen, since his father had prohibited her from being mentioned around him in his grief. The ban was lifted now, but few wanted to risk Dorephan’s anger or melancholy from saying her name. “You must tell me everything!”

Hamara laughed, the sound surprisingly strong for such a bent old woman, and patted one of his hands. “I will strike a deal with you, your highness. For every five new signs you learn, I will tell you one story of your mother.”

“Deal!” Sidon grinned, now even more excited for his lessons than before.

-

Sidon tapped his foot, waiting anxiously for the arrival of his merman. He supposed it would be wrong to call Link his, exactly; it wasn’t as though he wished to own him. The prince had just grown so fond of him over the past few weeks. He couldn’t wait to show Link all that he had learned in his absence.

But days had passed since he started learning sign, and Link had yet to reappear, despite Sidon slipping away to the cove almost every night. It was approaching two weeks since his last meeting with the merman when Sidon heard the sound of splashing, the same sound Link made when he dove beneath the surface. He sat up straighter, running over the motions in his head. He knew his signing wasn’t very good, yet, but he was confident he could piece together what he wanted to say.

Link breached the water a few moments later, looking more tired than Sidon had ever seen him. Sidon quickly knelt by the water, hands moving slowly but steadily. You late. Where you?

Away, Link answered absently, not seeming to register that Sidon hadn’t spoken aloud like he had during their last visit. Too busy to return here for a while.

Sidon nodded. I miss you.

I missed you too. Link froze, then blinked up at Sidon, bewildered. You sign now.

It wasn’t phrased as a question. Suddenly doubting himself, Sidon simply nodded.

You didn’t sign before.

Sidon shook his head.

You learned for me? Link’s eyes were unreadable, head tilted slightly as he watched Sidon.

Yes. Sidon nodded, bobbing his hand as he did in extra confirmation. Link’s face suddenly split into a wide grin, and he beckoned Sidon closer. The prince couldn’t refuse the request, even if he tried, and moved close enough to kneel next to the water. Before he could ask why, Link had hurled his body out of the bay, throwing his arms around Sidon’s neck. Sidon toppled backwards, caught off guard, but beamed back at his friend. Link’s tail flicked in the air, and all too soon he was sliding back into the water, no less exuberant. His fingers moved rapidly.

Please, slow down, Sidon begged, and Link laughed at the look of alarm on his face. “I’m afraid I still don’t know very much,” he added. “But I assure you, Link! I shall keep working until I can sign as well as I can speak! It is the least I can do for you, my dearest friend.”

The merman’s cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. You’re okay, he replied. This is good.

Sidon shook his head. “I want to be able to understand you, no matter what it is you wish to say to me. You can understand me perfectly - it would only be polite for me to learn your language as well.”

Link considered this for a moment, then nodded, beckoning Sidon closer again. When the prince bent down, Link pulled off one of the many strings of shells that adorned his chest, draping it over Sidon’s neck. Sidon’s breath caught in his throat, and he brought one hand up to touch the delicate shells.

“Thank you, Link. I shall treasure them more than any jewel.”

Link rolled his eyes at this declaration, but the pleased flush hadn’t left his face. Without another word, he turned and dove back into the water, speeding away, leaving behind a largely confused but deeply touched prince in his wake.

[just-a-re-blog]

The Land of Milk and Honey

Tried my hand at a bit of mythological fantasy because why not?

When Namjoon left everything he knew behind to “find himself,” he never expected to come face-to-face with a girl that lived off the essence of wilderness and sunlight. He didn’t anticipate finding beauty in someone in addition to the picturesque landscape that surrounded him. He never could have predicted that he would find peace in the weeds of your hair, the valleys of your lips, and the ripples of your skin.

He had barely secluded himself for two weeks when you found him, untamed eyes staring through the wild vines stretched across his window and the mess of sun-lightened hair dangling across your face. He opened his door to ask if you were okay, and you almost ran, lithe, muscular legs extended with the threat of retreat. But curiosity and stubbornness were always your strongest weaknesses.

You didn’t speak a word when Namjoon met you. When he asked you questions, you responded with little ticks of the head that were not quite nods of affirmation or shakes of refusal. He couldn’t manage to fish a name from your mouth. Puzzled by your sudden appearance and quirky behavior, Namjoon sat down in the grass outside his door. Bugs hummed incessantly, invading his cabin and claiming tiny strips of his exposed skin as prime real estate. Eventually, you approached him, dropping to your knees among the vegetation across from him.

“What’s your name?” he tried again, smiling softly in encouragement. You stared at him blankly and your expression brought his deep laughter spilling into the air. “Not much of a conversationalist, huh? That’s okay. I haven’t heard the sound of my own voice much either these past few days.”

Your eyes roamed his clothes and face, taking in every wrinkle of his short-sleeve shirt, every stitch on the pockets of his capris, observing the way his tan skin heightened the intensity of the ivory of his teeth. He looked you over as well. You were short, your unruly reddish-brown hair cropped to a layered chin-length. Your skin was light, but it seemed to glow with something like daylight.

Suddenly, your hand darted out to grab his own. Namjoon lost his balance as you pulled him forward onto his knees and inspected his fingers carefully, turning his hand over repeatedly. He chuckled uncertainly.

“You see something you like or is something wrong?” Your eyes stayed fixed on his palms. A few minutes passed in silence as you rubbed at his skin gently. Then, just as suddenly as you sat down, you stood, backing into the treeline with such sure and confident steps, Namjoon was certain you had eyes in the back of your head. “Where are you going?” he called after you. You tilted your head and blinked slowly, and Namjoon took the opportunity to rise with his hands held out in reassuring peace. “You don’t have to leave. You can stay here and...I don’t know, eat something, if you want. Do you want to come in?” You lowered your head in a sort of bow and disappeared into the foliage.

Namjoon rubbed at his head, completely unsure of what to make of the interaction that just transpired. He turned to walk back inside with a backwards glance over his shoulder. In the hand that you had cradled, a feeling of warmth still lingered in his fingertips.

From that moment on, every time Namjoon saw you, there was always a little less apprehension in your expression and a lot more confusion in his own. Your clothes didn’t change; the short dress you wore made of some silky, earth-colored fabric that seemed like an extension of you still danced with your every move. Your silence didn’t change. Namjoon would chatter idly in a soft voice when you visited his cabin, but you never responded beyond a few nods. Most importantly, your behavior never changed. He started to wait outside in the early afternoon in anticipation of you taking your seat increasingly close to him before spreading out his fingers against your own. And you arrived like clockwork each day to do exactly that.

Namjoon was entranced by the pigment of your irises--various shades and tints of dry prairie grass greens playing off one another; he let you spend hours tracing the patterns in the lines of his palms so that he could keep staring into them. Some days you ran your thumbs along the veins winding their ways from the backs of his hands across the expanses of his forearms, and your feather-light touches sent his pulse thrumming faster through the vessels at your fingertips.

He didn’t understand what you were doing or why you had the effect on him that you did, but he quickly learned not to question it. You had a purpose that was lost on him, barely translated in your small motions. To be completely honest, he wasn’t even sure if you carried any sort of friendly affection for him or if he was just a being you observed for some twisted research process. But he let you proceed anyway because of the pleasant tingling that buzzed in his head and hands every time you approached.

Finally, in a moment of Twilight-style bravery, Namjoon confronted you.

“You’re not human, are you?” Your eyes widened, fingers going stiff against his palms. “It’s okay,” he said sincerely, deep voice a gentle whisper. “Really, it’s okay. I won’t run away. And I won’t tell anyone either.”

Your hand was a blur as you reached out to cup the back of his neck, pulling his face inches from yours. He could feel your breath skimming across his lips; even from a distance, you tasted like sweet sap and honey. You searched his eyes intently, expression a cross between cold threat and desperate hope. Finally you pulled away and sat back on your heels.

Namjoon stayed frozen for a few moments, some tangible effect of your proximity lingering in the air. “I-I’ll…” he stammered, “I’ll take that as a no, I guess.” For the first time, you gave him a small smile. You bared no teeth, but the sight still warmed something in Namjoon’s chest. The last of his shock wore off and he returned the gesture.

“So,” he laughed. “Now that we’ve determined that you are not human, I’d rather like to determine what exactly you are.” You tilted your head curiously, eyes narrowing in challenge. “Sprite?” he ventured. You shrugged dismissively. “Oh, so you do understand me?” He wagged a finger in mock disapproval, winking playfully. Your mouth spread in another close-lipped smile. Namjoon was delighted to have made such grand strides in communicating with you in just one day. “What about...a fairy?” You wrinkled your nose in disgust, shaking your head vigorously. His laugh reverberated through the clearing. “Okay, definitely not a fairy. Can you give me a hint?” You parted then, standing and walking backwards into the trees as was customary at the end of your interactions with Namjoon. Your fingers lingered on the rough bark as you affectionately traced a wooden swirl. “Is that my hint?” You nodded before disappearing.

Namjoon combed through endless volumes of anthologies about mythological creatures. After weeks of research, and after witnessing the fainting spell that occurred when he walked with you a mile down the road towards the nearest town, he decided you had to be a nymph, bound to the life force of a tree deep in the heart of the forest.

His thoroughness was rewarded, your eyes lighting up in astonished pleasure when he told you his conclusion. You became far less guarded after that, though the two of you still spoke only silent words. Your smile began to show hints of white teeth and you interacted with him beyond the simple hand rituals your relationship used to revolve around. He reveled in having you as a docent to show him the hollowed out trunks of old sequoias where your tiny animal friends lived and the canopies of leaves you could effortlessly roost yourself among. Once or twice you pulled him into the low branches to lay your head against his chest and listen to the way the beat echoed the calls of woodland birds.

But each night, you leaving became more and more unbearable, something in him feeling not quite whole without your electric fingers pulsing verdant life into his body. One morning as he waited for you outside the door, he found himself unable to catch his breath, heart loping awkwardly beneath his bones as his knees gave out. You were in the grass beside him in an instant, and his body returned to normal just as quickly once your skin found his.

“What have you done to me?” he half-laughed. “I only feel good around you now.” There was a glimmering spark in your irises at his words. You took his face in your hands and gently locked your lips with his. Warmth bloomed in his cheeks and radiated down to his feet. His head spun at the taste of sunshine and carnations. When you pulled away, the oxygen vanished from his lungs with a soft sigh before his vision went black and he collapsed into your arms. You smiled down affectionately and hoisted Namjoon over your shoulder for the journey home.

He opened his eyes for a moment and found himself being carried through the arched branches of hazelnut trees. When he woke up for good--safely on the ground, vision clearing and sharpening slowly--he sat up to take in the most beautiful valley he had ever seen: birds swooping low over bushy fig trees rooted among trilliums, Virginia bluebells, spring beauties, and irises.

And framed by brush and periwinkle mountains, you stood in the center of it all. You crouched before him and brushed a few strands of faded blond hair off his forehead. He looked down when your palm rested lightly on his chest.

“Careful,” he joked. “Don’t want me to pass out again, do you?” But there was no trace of humor in your face--only apprehension. “Hey, what’s wrong? I’m okay. Really.”

You pointed to a grand tree behind him and then to yourself, holding out your other hand. He stared at you in confusion. You stood and gestured for him to mirror you. Your walk was full of confident grace, but he followed you with much less elegance. When you reached the huge olive tree, you tried again to explain your thoughts.

You peeled away a piece of bark with impossible ease and golden sap oozed from the exposed wound. Your hand cupped underneath it and you brought the liquid up to eye level. You made a motion like drinking, pointed at him and then stepped incredibly close to him, linking your fingers. Namjoon shivered involuntarily. He watched as you then backed up and gestured like you were drinking the sap again. You pointed at the archway of trees that led out of the forest and shook your head.

“Oh,” Namjoon said quietly, finally understanding. “So...if I...if I drink that, I can stay with you?” You nodded. “But it means I can never go back? Is that right?” You nodded again, your eyes consumed with a fear he had never seen in you. “If I leave...does it mean I can’t see you anymore?” You gazed at the grass between your toes. “Why?” Namjoon asked defiantly. “We’ve been seeing each other like this for months now. Why do things have to change?” But he knew it had something to do with how much of your power had rubbed off on him, something to do with a law of myth and magic that it was useless to question.

You stepped to the edge of the tree’s shadow, quiet isolation enveloping your movement, your expression, and your figure. His eyes roamed your body, watching the way the dappled light played off the curve of your radiant skin and the soft hue of your prairie grass eyes. He briefly looked back towards the hazelnut branches that led back to his cabin, back towards civilization and all the things he left behind to find peace. Without another second of hesitation, he fell to his knees and let the sap pool in his cupped hands.

It tasted like your lips.

“Namjoon!” you sang happily, your hair dangling in his face as you hung by your knees from a branch. He tapped your nose and grinned.

“Yes, my love?”

“Come sit with me!” You flashed a brilliant smile, teeth sparkling in harmony with your delicate voice. He swung himself into the tree, and for what felt like the thousandth time, thanked the heavens that his abilities were the same as yours now. You scampered higher into the foliage, daring him to catch you. He chased you to the top of the canopy, his deep laugh stirring birds from their nests.

You rested against his shoulder with a contented sigh and looked out over the forest.

“Namjoon?” He hummed in response. “Are you glad you picked this?”

He took in the slopes of the landscape and the colors of the groves before smiling at the shape of your face and the shades of your dress. He grabbed your hand and absently traced the lines of your palm.

“What do you think?”

[cliftonsteen]

Greek Coffee Culture: A Story Of Tradition And Renewal

In Greece, coffee is a way of life. Greek coffee culture has an important role in both public and private society.

From tradition and ibrik coffee to the iconic “frappé” and today’s third wave, Greece has always embraced coffee in all its forms. The story of coffee in Greece spans more than seven centuries, and it is deeply entwined with the country’s modern history.

Read on to learn about the history of coffee in Greece, and what the Greek coffee scene looks like today.

You may also like Four Things You May Not Know About Coffee In Greece

A Brief History Of Coffee In Greece

Greece’s relationship with coffee started under the Ottoman Empire. The first coffee shop – or “kafeneio”, in Greek – opened as early as 1475 in Constantinople (now Istanbul). George Misegiannis is the owner of Misegianni, an historic “kafekopteio” in Athens. He tells me that by the 17th century, there were more than 300 coffee shops in Thessaloniki alone. By the 18th century, the kafeneio was a well-established Greek institution which served as a basis for social interaction.

Historically, green coffee beans were hand-roasted in a pan over an open fire, and then hand-ground in the coffee shops themselves. In the late 19th and early 20th century, “kafekopteia” such as Misegianni began to appear. These were specialised coffee grinding and roasting shops  – the word “kafekopteio” literally translates as “coffee cutter” – which also sold traditional Greek or “ibrik” coffee. This was how most people consumed coffee until the 1950s, when filter and instant coffee appeared.

In the 1960s, however, an iced version of instant coffee was introduced: the frappé. This quickly became a national favourite. Traditional kafeneio shops remained, but new, more modern coffee-drinking establishments, or “kafeteria”, started popping up. They accommodated young Greeks who wanted to socialise and catch up with American and European popular culture.

The 1990s gave way to Athens’ second coffee wave, which focused on giving people a more refined coffee experience. The famous Da Capo café, among others, brought Italian espresso and cappuccino to the city. It was around this time that the frappé was “revamped” and became the freddo. The freddo is an iced version of an espresso or cappuccino, and remains a Greek summer favourite to this day. 

The third wave arrived in the early 2000s, later than in the US and the rest of Europe, but it was embraced by Greeks with open arms. Iordanis Iosifidis, General Manager of Kafea Terra, a major Greek coffee distributor, tells me that the economic crisis in 2008 did nothing to slow down the popularity of coffee in Greece, nor the rise of specialty. In fact, he says, coffee sales went up.

“Greeks want to be anywhere but in the home,” Iordanis tells me. “They love going out.” With record-low incomes and high unemployment rates in the late 2000s, Greeks were forced to cut back on their more expensive social activities. This left coffee as the one of a few affordable leisure activities for many across the country. 

Coffee in Greece: A Way Of Life

“For Greeks, drinking coffee is like washing your face in the morning: a daily ritual, a necessity,” says Dimitris Batis, manager of Dexameni café in Athens. “Greeks cannot live without their coffee.”

George from Misegianni tells me about the term “pame gia kafe”, or “let’s go for coffee”. “[The phrase] could mean anything,” he says. “It doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll drink coffee; it could mean a chat, drinks, even a long lunch. The point is, there will be socialising. It could be translated more accurately as ‘let’s meet to chat.’” This is just another indication of how coffee is such an important part of life in Greece.

Christos Kavrakos, founder of third wave coffee shop Mind the Cup, tells me that the concept of “filoxeneia” is a big part of Greek coffee culture. Filoxeneia translates as “friend to a stranger”, and is a unique, historic Greek approach to hospitality. For many Greeks, hospitality is not just a duty, it is a matter of pride. This extends to customer service in coffee shops.

Greece’s Three Iconic Coffees

The Ibrik Or “Greek” Coffee 

Greek coffee, also known as “ibrik coffee” has been around – and remained popular – for centuries. It is finely ground coffee made and served from a “briki”, also known as an “ibrik” (a small brass pot with a long handle). 

Dimitris says: “The secret is making it with a gazaki (a single camping gas burner). Many people make it on an electric stove top, or in a machine, but a truly great Greek coffee can only be achieved with a gazaki or traditional hovoli (heated sand).” Whether served at home or in a coffee shop, any good ibrik coffee needs a rich layer of froth known as “kaimaki”.

In the old days, men would drink Greek coffee at the kafeneio. Women – whose presence was frowned upon in the kafeneio – would enjoy the beverage at home as they took a break from their chores. Today, Greeks still enjoy ibrik coffee, which is traditionally served with a side of sweet “loukoumi”, a dessert similar to Turkish delight that is made with starch and sugar.

Christos from Mind the Cup says: “Ibrik, for me, is a traditional kafeneio on the square of a small Greek village. If I drink ibrik coffee at my café here in Athens, I remember the squares, the village and my trips… flavours are memories.”

The rule for both making and drinking Greek coffee: “Siga, siga”, which translates as “slowly, slowly”. Patience is the only way to achieve the signature creamy mouthfeel, and it also stops you from burning your tongue or getting a mouthful of sediment.

The Frappé

The frappé is a Greek iced coffee drink made with soluble coffee, water, sugar (optional), and milk (also optional). It was invented almost by accident by Dimitris Vakondios, a Greek Nescafe representative, in 1957. The beauty of the frappé is its simplicity: anyone can make it, anywhere. Just mix the water and instant coffee, shake vigorously, and add ice, sugar, and milk if you have some.

It is also cheap and accessible. Christos from Mind the Cup has fond memories of frappés in Greece: “In Greece, we have these little street kiosks called ‘periptero’. They would sell individual servings of frappé mix in little plastic packets. I would just add a little water to the mix and shake it in a bottle on the way to the beach! I spent many Greek summers drinking frappés by the sea.”

He and Iordanis both believe that the frappé has no place in the world of specialty coffee – for now, anyway. Iordanis says that the issue isn’t the lack of quality, freshness, and aroma that we associate with specialty; he says the frappé is incompatible with the third wave “experience”. Because the frappé requires no special skill, anyone can make it. It doesn’t need the knowledge or experience of a barista. 

Enter the third wave’s response to the frappé: the freddo.

The Freddo 

The freddo is essentially an iced version of some of the most popular espresso-based beverages. There is the freddo espresso, the freddo cappuccino, and even the flat white freddo. It is extremely popular in Greece, especially in the summer when temperatures soar. It tastes great, it can be served in specialty coffee shops, and it can be customised to suit the customer. The beverage can be served with cream, milk, soy milk, chocolate, cinnamon, or even black… the combinations are endless.

According to Iordanis, the freddo came into existence as a solution to a market problem: “Every summer, espresso sales were going down because people wanted to drink espresso in the cooler months. But in the summer, they would have something cold and refreshing like frappé, which is made with soluble coffee. 

“They invented the freddo, which is basically a double espresso mixed with ice.” The drink became popular overnight and remains a national favourite to this day, as well as being a huge hit with tourists.

Greece & The Third Wave

There are a number of thriving third wave coffee spots across Greece. When the third wave hit the country, it rose in popularity extremely quickly. Iordanis says this is because coffee is such a big part of Greek coffee culture; he says the country’s appreciation for good coffee runs deep. 

Christos believes it’s largely related to filoxeneia and the idea of Greek hospitality. The third wave experience focuses on quality at all levels, including customer service. He says this aligned well with existing Greek coffee culture, and was easily accepted. When I asked Christos why he started Mind the Cup, a specialty coffee shop, his reply was simple: “We wanted to make special coffee and provide good service in a friendly spot.”

Barista training is still hugely popular in Greece, and it is considered to be a respected trade. Kafea Terra, Iordanis tells me, is more than just an espresso coffee distributor. He says the company also trains baristas, as well as providing coffee shop management and service courses. Their aim, he says, is to elevate the quality of the coffee drinking experience entirely, from coffee to service.

Coffee shops are everywhere in Greece, and they perform well. Even through the difficult times, they seem to survive and sometimes thrive. 

A love of coffee and socialising is very much a part of Greek culture, as is the historic concept of filoxeneia, or Greek hospitality. The country has seen some tough times in recent years, and while many things remain uncertain, coffee is not one of them. It’s clearly a way of life in the country, and it will always be part of the picture of Greek living, one way or another. 

Enjoyed this? Then read An Exploration of Greek Frappés

Photo credits: Kafea Terra, Sarah Charles 

Perfect Daily Grind

Want to read more articles like this? Sign up for our newsletter!

The post Greek Coffee Culture: A Story Of Tradition And Renewal appeared first on Perfect Daily Grind.

Greek Coffee Culture: A Story Of Tradition And Renewal published first on https://espressoexpertweb.weebly.com/

[kathydsalters31]

Taking the Cat Exercise Wheel for a Spin: Will Your Kitty Be Unimpressed or obsessed?

Our web site uses cookies. By remaining to utilize our site, you accept our use of cookies. To see what cookies we offer as well as establish your own preferences, please evaluation our Cookie Policy. Find out more.

Share

Updated August 12, 2020 | For Cat People By Karen Anderson This blog post contains affiliate links. Find out more

right here. Is your cat curious, adventurous, fearless, restless, active, and also hyperactive? If that summary fits, they’re likely to take to the

One Fast Cat feline workout wheel like a souped-up Chevy to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. The concept behind the pet cat workout wheel is to supply pet cats, specifically interior pet cats, with vigorous exercise, keeping them delighted and at a healthy weight. Offering cats interior exercise can be performed with a range of interactive cat playthings, including laser pointers as well as sticks, in addition to with climbing up towers– as well as feline wheels. Our buddies from Tennessee, Becky and Tony, purchased their two-year-old Bombay, Austin, the One Fast Cat last Christmas. Becky explains that it took them only one session to educate him. Austin gallops along happily on the wheel routinely. My partner and also I assumed it might be a wonderful idea for our 5 feline lazy person in Seattle.

Read on as we enter into the nitty-gritty concerning exactly how you put together a One Fast Cat workout wheel, and also just how it reviewed with claimed Seattle felines.

Customers share videos of their pet cats making use of OneFastCat to the firm’s Instagram feed. Creating the Cat Exercise Wheel If you scour the internet, you’ll see that versions of the cat workout wheel (think: a hamster wheel but for a feline)have actually been around for a minimum of 20 years. Most of the very early ones are from the United Kingdom, and also, certainly, a great deal of them originated in individuals’s workshops and garages. You can locate DIY plans– well, illustrations at least– on Pinterest. One of the initial companies to bring the cat wheel to market was Catswall Design, which is presently shipping the Catswall II in the UK. Made with MDF as opposed to plastic, it’s hefty as well as tough as well as ships totally set up– so you might be looking at some delivery issues. The whizzes at Mythbusters even customized it to ravel some aspects. The Maclaw Wheel is additionally a U.K. item; each wheel is customized made. The Go!Cat!Wheel, offered online in the U.S., starts at a hefty$ 485. Numerous other cat wheels– consisting of a wall-mounted wheel– have actually come and gone on the marketplace. One Fast Cat, however, has actually verified to have staying

power. It’s a 48-inch diameter wheel constructed from snap-together plastic areas and lined with a soft running surface area in a couple of different shade alternatives. The wheel is set on a base with four small transforming wheels as well as is powered by the cat’s motion. Offered directly from One Fast Cat,

the wheel currently begins at $199 (that includes shipping to most U.S. places). The business is aiming for a sweet spot in ease, resilience, and also rate. With more than 300 testimonials on Amazon.com, it has a rather commendable 3.5-star ranking. Some pet cats and their people love it. Others … not so much. As we found, it’s not enough to locate a pretty good pet cat wheel. You also require the ideal pet cat.< iframe loading ="careless"src="around: blank "size="560"elevation ="315 "frameborder=

“0”allowfullscreen= “allowfullscreen”data-rocket-lazyload =”fitvidscompatible” data-lazy-src=”https://www.youtube.com/embed/m9-QOGUHjOo”> The Ideal Cat for a Cat Exercise Wheel Among the excellent challenges of making as well as evaluating a cat wheel, to state absolutely nothing concerning advertising and also marketing it, is that it calls for an energised cat. Obtained one? Good, I’ll wait a bit up until you get her down from the top of the cabinets, and we’ll proceed. There are a few big differences between our felines as well as our buddies

‘pet cat Austin, who appears borderline consumed with his wheel. He’s very curious, adventurous, and also has a”high play drive,”states Becky. He responds well to praise as well as is extremely plaything motivated. Those all seem to be features that provide themselves to a feline that may get– and remain– thinking about a feline exercise wheel. Placing It All Together When the surprisingly modest-sized (however heavy) box including the feline wheel hit our doorstep, we for a moment flipped out due to the fact that one side of our box had a tear in it. It transformed out all the parts, very carefully loaded in cardboard and also covered in

plastic, were intact.

We prepared the items on the dining-room table and approached putting them together, complying with the huge instruction sheet. The procedure went practically the way it carries out in the official instructional video clip for the existing(Generation 5) One Fast Cat. The firm has continued to upgrade the item, so see to it the instructional videos as well as testimonials you have a look at are current.

The wheel itself went together efficiently, yet we faced a grab–

particularly, with placing two steel poles right into the plastic real estates at either end of the base. Registering our account and also speaking to One Fast Cat client support through the web site got us via the problem– though I was not thrilled with the design of the plastic housings. Don’t do anything radical if you run into issues. The customer assistance people will certainly obtain you via it! OK, the wheel’s all set. Now let’s go obtain the feline. Training Your Cat to Wheel “Austin is constantly interested and likes to check out, “Becky claims.”If there’s an adventure to be had, he’s normally up for it. “He enjoys to play, she describes. “If you get a toy out as well as hang it, he’s prepared to go. However, he likewise responds quite possibly to praise. He noticeably preens when you say,”Good Austin.”He’ll not refuse a reward, but if I wished to

motivate him, I ‘d use toys first, and also reinforce the wanted habits with appreciation as well as pets.”Which is precisely what Tony did when he introduced Austin to the workout wheel last Christmas. Tony had Austin playing with a preferred stick plaything alongside the One Fast Cat. Gradually, Tony led him from next to the One Fast Cat onto the wheel. Quickly Austin was leaping over the wheel, after that climbing the wheel, and much less than five minutes right into the training he was running on the wheel itself.

Austin required to the wheel with simply a little training. Picture by Becky Kyle. Keep in mind Austin’s housemate Reese observing the training session on the.”We wished all three of our cats would use the wheel as healthy workout,”Becky says.”So far, just Austin has actually revealed any kind of rate of interest.”

For other training ideas, you can check out this 14-minute YouTube video published by One Fast Cat. It demonstrates step-by-step training with pet cats that are reward encouraged in addition to with cats like Austin that are plaything inspired. I questioned my pals, whose felines stand for a variety of personalities, breeds, physique, as well as intelligence. They ended that regarding one cat in every six will certainly

opt for a feline wheel. At our residence, we were able to obtain our tabby Zoe on the One Fast Cat with her favorite deals with (blueberries). She simply meowed until we placed the blueberries down on the wheel. She then knocked them onto the floor and also escaped after them.

Life With One Fast Cat

While felines commonly dislike playthings, when a feline has come to be affixed to One Fast Cat, proprietors like Becky report that the interest (is it an obsession?) appears to continue.

“There is severe gas mileage on that particular wheel,” Becky states. “Austin uses it a number of times a day, typically for at least 2 or 3 minutes each time. He does not need an audience or any individual to motivate him. He does not also need the lights on. On a regular basis, I will certainly stir up to hear the wheel whirring at all hrs of the evening.”

It’s worth keeping in mind that the wheel is not precisely quiet. It makes a reduced, roaring noise (which I assume frightened Zoe when she first stepped on the wheel and also it moved). Becky has placed Austin’s wheel on a workout floor covering to moisten the noise as well as speculates that putting it on a cushioned carpet may additionally decrease noise.

Still not exactly sure if your cat is a candidate for the fast lane? Take a look at these Instagram video clips from One Fast Cat’s consumers for ideas. Also if your feline, like mine, would rather being in laps than do laps, you can constantly dream.

Find One Fast Cat Wheel on Amazon Find One Fast Cat Wheel at One Fast Cat Included picture by means of One Fast Cat Karen Anderson is an author at Rover. Before signing up with Rover, she was an author and also editor at Apple and also a consultant for business consisting of Cardiac Science, Houzz, the Home Owners Club, and the Seattle Times. Her leisure activities are dancing, horticulture, sci-fi, as well as pet-sitting for good friends and also neighbors. She shares her house with a delightful clowder of wacky rescue felines.

sidebar

The Dog People E-newsletter Subscribe and also get $25 off pet resting and also dog walking!

source http://www.luckydogsolutions.com/taking-the-cat-exercise-wheel-for-a-spin-will-your-kitty-be-obsessed-or-unimpressed/ from Lucky Dog Solutions https://luckydogsolutions.blogspot.com/2020/08/taking-cat-exercise-wheel-for-spin-will.html

[barryswamsleyaz]

Taking the Cat Exercise Wheel for a Spin: Will Your Kitty Be Unimpressed or obsessed?

Our web site uses cookies. By remaining to utilize our site, you accept our use of cookies. To see what cookies we offer as well as establish your own preferences, please evaluation our Cookie Policy. Find out more.

Share Share

Updated August 12, 2020 | For Cat People By Karen Anderson This blog post contains affiliate links. Find out more

right here. Is your cat curious, adventurous, fearless, restless, active, and also hyperactive? If that summary fits, they’re likely to take to the One Fast Cat feline workout wheel like a souped-up Chevy to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. The concept behind the pet cat workout wheel is to supply pet cats, specifically interior pet cats, with vigorous exercise, keeping them delighted and at a healthy weight. Offering cats interior exercise can be performed with a range of interactive cat playthings, including laser pointers as well as sticks, in addition to with climbing up towers– as well as feline wheels. Our buddies from Tennessee, Becky and Tony, purchased their two-year-old Bombay, Austin, the One Fast Cat last Christmas. Becky explains that it took them only one session to educate him. Austin gallops along happily on the wheel routinely. My partner and also I assumed it might be a wonderful idea for our 5 feline lazy person in Seattle.

Read on as we enter into the nitty-gritty concerning exactly how you put together a One Fast Cat workout wheel, and also just how it reviewed with claimed Seattle felines.

Customers share videos of their pet cats making use of OneFastCat to the firm’s Instagram feed. Creating the Cat Exercise Wheel If you scour the internet, you’ll see that versions of the cat workout wheel (think: a hamster wheel but for a feline)have actually been around for a minimum of 20 years. Most of the very early ones are from the United Kingdom, and also, certainly, a great deal of them originated in individuals’s workshops and garages. You can locate DIY plans– well, illustrations at least– on Pinterest. One of the initial companies to bring the cat wheel to market was Catswall Design, which is presently shipping the Catswall II in the UK. Made with MDF as opposed to plastic, it’s hefty as well as tough as well as ships totally set up– so you might be looking at some delivery issues. The whizzes at Mythbusters even customized it to ravel some aspects. The Maclaw Wheel is additionally a U.K. item; each wheel is customized made. The Go!Cat!Wheel, offered online in the U.S., starts at a hefty$ 485. Numerous other cat wheels– consisting of a wall-mounted wheel– have actually come and gone on the marketplace. One Fast Cat, however, has actually verified to have staying

power. It’s a 48-inch diameter wheel constructed from snap-together plastic areas and lined with a soft running surface area in a couple of different shade alternatives. The wheel is set on a base with four small transforming wheels as well as is powered by the cat’s motion. Offered directly from One Fast Cat, the wheel currently begins at $199 (that includes shipping to most U.S. places). The business is aiming for a sweet spot in ease, resilience, and also rate. With more than 300 testimonials on Amazon.com, it has a rather commendable 3.5-star ranking. Some pet cats and their people love it. Others … not so much. As we found, it’s not enough to locate a pretty good pet cat wheel. You also require the ideal pet cat.< iframe loading =“careless"src="around: blank "size="560"elevation ="315 "frameborder=

“0”allowfullscreen= “allowfullscreen”data-rocket-lazyload =”fitvidscompatible” data-lazy-src=”https://www.youtube.com/embed/m9-QOGUHjOo”> The Ideal Cat for a Cat Exercise Wheel Among the excellent challenges of making as well as evaluating a cat wheel, to state absolutely nothing concerning advertising and also marketing it, is that it calls for an energised cat. Obtained one? Good, I’ll wait a bit up until you get her down from the top of the cabinets, and we’ll proceed. There are a few big differences between our felines as well as our buddies

‘pet cat Austin, who appears borderline consumed with his wheel. He’s very curious, adventurous, and also has a”high play drive,”states Becky. He responds well to praise as well as is extremely plaything motivated. Those all seem to be features that provide themselves to a feline that may get– and remain– thinking about a feline exercise wheel. Placing It All Together When the surprisingly modest-sized (however heavy) box including the feline wheel hit our doorstep, we for a moment flipped out due to the fact that one side of our box had a tear in it. It transformed out all the parts, very carefully loaded in cardboard and also covered in

plastic, were intact.

We prepared the items on the dining-room table and approached putting them together, complying with the huge instruction sheet. The procedure went practically the way it carries out in the official instructional video clip for the existing(Generation 5) One Fast Cat. The firm has continued to upgrade the item, so see to it the instructional videos as well as testimonials you have a look at are current.

The wheel itself went together efficiently, yet we faced a grab–

particularly, with placing two steel poles right into the plastic real estates at either end of the base. Registering our account and also speaking to One Fast Cat client support through the web site got us via the problem– though I was not thrilled with the design of the plastic housings. Don’t do anything radical if you run into issues. The customer assistance people will certainly obtain you via it! OK, the wheel’s all set. Now let’s go obtain the feline. Training Your Cat to Wheel “Austin is constantly interested and likes to check out, “Becky claims.”If there’s an adventure to be had, he’s normally up for it. “He enjoys to play, she describes. “If you get a toy out as well as hang it, he’s prepared to go. However, he likewise responds quite possibly to praise. He noticeably preens when you say,”Good Austin.”He’ll not refuse a reward, but if I wished to

motivate him, I ‘d use toys first, and also reinforce the wanted habits with appreciation as well as pets.”Which is precisely what Tony did when he introduced Austin to the workout wheel last Christmas. Tony had Austin playing with a preferred stick plaything alongside the One Fast Cat. Gradually, Tony led him from next to the One Fast Cat onto the wheel. Quickly Austin was leaping over the wheel, after that climbing the wheel, and much less than five minutes right into the training he was running on the wheel itself.

Austin required to the wheel with simply a little training. Picture by Becky Kyle. Keep in mind Austin’s housemate Reese observing the training session on the.”We wished all three of our cats would use the wheel as healthy workout,”Becky says.”So far, just Austin has actually revealed any kind of rate of interest.”

For other training ideas, you can check out this 14-minute YouTube video published by One Fast Cat. It demonstrates step-by-step training with pet cats that are reward encouraged in addition to with cats like Austin that are plaything inspired. I questioned my pals, whose felines stand for a variety of personalities, breeds, physique, as well as intelligence. They ended that regarding one cat in every six will certainly

opt for a feline wheel. At our residence, we were able to obtain our tabby Zoe on the One Fast Cat with her favorite deals with (blueberries). She simply meowed until we placed the blueberries down on the wheel. She then knocked them onto the floor and also escaped after them.

Life With One Fast Cat

While felines commonly dislike playthings, when a feline has come to be affixed to One Fast Cat, proprietors like Becky report that the interest (is it an obsession?) appears to continue.

“There is severe gas mileage on that particular wheel,” Becky states. “Austin uses it a number of times a day, typically for at least 2 or 3 minutes each time. He does not need an audience or any individual to motivate him. He does not also need the lights on. On a regular basis, I will certainly stir up to hear the wheel whirring at all hrs of the evening.”

It’s worth keeping in mind that the wheel is not precisely quiet. It makes a reduced, roaring noise (which I assume frightened Zoe when she first stepped on the wheel and also it moved). Becky has placed Austin’s wheel on a workout floor covering to moisten the noise as well as speculates that putting it on a cushioned carpet may additionally decrease noise.

Still not exactly sure if your cat is a candidate for the fast lane? Take a look at these Instagram video clips from One Fast Cat’s consumers for ideas. Also if your feline, like mine, would rather being in laps than do laps, you can constantly dream.

Find One Fast Cat Wheel on Amazon Find One Fast Cat Wheel at One Fast Cat Included picture by means of One Fast Cat Karen Anderson is an author at Rover. Before signing up with Rover, she was an author and also editor at Apple and also a consultant for business consisting of Cardiac Science, Houzz, the Home Owners Club, and the Seattle Times. Her leisure activities are dancing, horticulture, sci-fi, as well as pet-sitting for good friends and also neighbors. She shares her house with a delightful clowder of wacky rescue felines.

sidebar

The Dog People E-newsletter Subscribe and also get $25 off pet resting and also dog walking!

from Lucky Dog Solutions http://www.luckydogsolutions.com/taking-the-cat-exercise-wheel-for-a-spin-will-your-kitty-be-obsessed-or-unimpressed/ from Lucky Dog Solutions https://luckydogsolutions.tumblr.com/post/626571612784820224

[webart-studio]

20 Freshest Internet Designs, December 2018

Welcome to our roundup of the very best web sites launched (or relaunched with fascinating new updates) within the final month.

Historically November is a time of last-minute launches earlier than the vacation season will get into full swing, and the final 4 weeks aren’t any exception. There’re dozens of nice ecommerce shops simply launched—we’ve included a number of of our favorites—and quite a lot of studios have up to date portfolios to allow them to hit the bottom working in 2019.

The colour pink is big proper now, and typography appears to changing into slightly braver than it has been in all through 2018. Get pleasure from!

  Purple Clay

I defy anybody to call a foodstuff that isn’t improved by the addition of sizzling sauce. Purple Clay’s sizzling sauces hail from the South, and the nice meals images on its web site, mixed with model art work, and a few inventive typography actually sells them.

  Julie Cristobal

Julie Cristobal is a Paris-based vogue stylist. Her easy web site is delivered to life with refined animation, and a colour palette that displays the shoots she’s labored on. The seamless hyperlink to the subsequent challenge on the backside every challenge is phenomenal.

  Denver & Liely

With Christmas simply across the nook, it’s the proper time to consider a seasonal tipple. No matter your poison of alternative, consuming from an aesthetic glass will make all of the distinction. Denver & Liely’s split-screen web site, showcases their distinctive glassware.

  Eduardo Nunes

The portfolio of Eduardo Nunes opens conventionally sufficient, with a press release about who he’s, with hyperlinks to his work. The place the positioning actually excels is within the frank, and confessional case research. This might be the proper designer portfolio.

  Cast by Meta

Meta is a workstation manufactured to be used by tattoo artists. Private suggestions are necessary to them, so the primary part of their homepage is split into thumbnails linking to testimonial movies. It’s an authentic and efficient method.

  Baunfire

Baunfire is a design company pitching itself to Silicon Valley. As a part of the push, it’s revealed this wonderful microsite, with enjoyable animations, and a few well-argued textual content, explaining precisely what design’s function, in locations like Silicon Valley, ought to be.

  Bitmap Typographer

Bitmap Typographer is an minimal web site that lets you design your very personal bitmap font. Click on on the letter to be designed and click on the pixels on the grid to design your individual pixel-based alphabet. When you’ve designed it, sort with it to test it out.

  Hannes Reeh

Hannes Reeh takes a democratic method to wine, believing that everybody ought to be capable of benefit from the juice of the vine. This Austrian winery presents some characterful wine, at costs anybody can afford, and its fashionable angle is embodied by the trendy web site.

  Madina Visconti

Madina Visconti’s web site opens with a bi-directional scroll, a design sample that’s changing into more and more acquainted to us. The place the positioning breaks new floor is in rejecting the standard stark white minimalism in favor of a variety of sentimental greens that add additional magnificence to the dear metals on show.

  Daniel Spatzek

Daniel Spatzek’s portfolio options an unimaginable typographic impact, because the titles of every of his tasks are bisected by the vertical grid he’s used to divide the web page. It simply goes to indicate that an authentic thought, effectively executed, can elevate a web site past its opponents.

  Saint Kate of Milwaukee

Saint Kate is an arts resort, opening within the usually under-rated metropolis of Milwaukee, in Spring 2019. The positioning makes use of daring colour and delightful typography to draw creatives, and vacationers, promoting the thought to the neighborhood earlier than the product is able to be seen.

  Diane Bonheur

Massive in Japan, Diane Bonheur pitches itself to a global clientele as the purpose at which natural meets horny. The most important promoting level of the positioning is the wonderful approach the content material animates in as you scroll, with out ever feeling gimmicky.

  Detective Moustachio

Detective Moustachio is an additive platform recreation with a plot to maintain you tapping. It’s been a while since we’ve seen a very addictive HTML5 recreation, however Detective Moustachio actually steps as much as the plate with buzzsaws, bottomless pits, and killer robots.

  Jacquemus

Jacquemus is a vogue label with a refined style. The muted colours of the gathering are repeated within the topes, and tans of its web site. The store particularly does an unimaginable job of echoing subsequent season’s merchandise. A extremely refined look.

  Human Ahead

This web site is a enjoyable, interactive, animated story for in-house workers to expertise “Human Ahead” the brand new model promise from Randstad. What’s fascinating, is that as a result of it targets a particular demographic, the designers have been capable of launch a mobile-only expertise.

  Sim Sim Falafel

Among the many quite a few advantages immigration has dropped at Germany, is the high-standard of North African quisine. Sim Sim Falafel makes use of main colours to tempt us into sampling their delicacies. The hummus tahine seems significantly scrumptious.

  Martian Flag Meeting

Curiosity in Mars has grown within the final decade; based on the Martian Flag Meeting web site we’ll be setting foot on the pink planet throughout the subsequent ten years. This web site, for a Copenhagen exhibition of proposed flags to be planted on Mars, options some unimaginable coded animation.

  Kopke

With Winter within the Northern hemisphere taking maintain, there’s little higher than an excellent port in entrance of a roaring fireplace. Kopke is the world’s oldest port home, and this web site’s interactive video tells the story of the celebrated model.

  In Reward of Shadows

One of many fascinating features of Japan, is the tradition’s capability to take a look at issues from a barely totally different perspective to Western eyes. In Reward of Shadows is artist Sai Yamazaki’s ode, to not the fantastic thing about gentle, however to the fantastic thing about its absence.

  Timepal

Embracing the colored-blob development with vigor is Timepal, a Mac app that makes the straightforward job of time-keeping, and makes it less complicated. The daring colours, and summary shapes, create a way of simplicity that’s excellent for this complete software.

Supply hyperlink

source https://webart-studio.com/20-freshest-internet-designs-december-2018/

[basssteve-blog]

New Year’s Resolutions For Bar & Nightclub Owners

That is actually a Brand new Year and all from us possess wonderful intents. Certainly not just do people possess resolutions they desire to maintain, but thus carry out bar and also pub proprietors. They want to raise business, assist their staff members come to be high as well as to delight their clients. Take an eye some from the resolutions for the coming New Year's Eve NYC 2018 that some managers are creating from pubs and clubs in New york. Settlement: Handle Your Social Media Site Better The manager as well as operator of The Dram as well as Candleroom, Tammy DeAlano is considering streamlining the methods he utilizes for social media. Caring for all the needed social electrical outlets for 3 locations (a restaurant, besides the 2 discos) can be a little hard under the finest of instances. He clarifies that each month, this appears, there is actually a brand-new website or even application that they prefer to stay on best from. However, this is actually a harmony as they do not intend to bewilder all of them. His pair of primary social networking sites outlets are Twitter and Facebook. He doesn't wish to spread his efforts out very a lot as well as would certainly instead only pay attention to their main brand and also maintain that amusing sufficient that clients would like to review. DeAlano has made an effort several approaches from remaining ahead of the social networks video game, like tapping the services of somebody to have treatment of this and even his whole crew. In 2014, he's preparing on tapping the services of a Public Relations crew to have care of every little thing. He describes that along with all the details as well as documents they provide, that will certainly be easier to target more efficiently. He aims for the Public Relations people to take care of the day-to-day things, while he will definitely have the responsibility for the brand-building, grass-roots messages. With a great Public Relations company that recognizes just what they are actually performing, they'll be actually capable to acquire excellent feedback so that they understand just what to publish, when and also which techniques that are going to use the very best shot to no in on their target market. This will allow his crew the liberty to concentrate on actual content. New Years Eve Resolution: Market Exclusive Occasions and also Parties in NYC or even In other places Starting in January, the lounges NYC hosts plans to run advertisings together with Yuengling-- which is actually located out of neighboring Newark, NJ. Ken Pisarcik, the manager, clarifies that they are actually collaborating all together with Yuengling as well as a ski resort to ensure they may aid construct one another up. He would like to have a much deeper look at special promos as he believes that if they have something other spots don't this will definitely help drive business. Pisarcik thinks that they must go out as well as locate their chances. He explains that he possesses relationships with booze and also beer providers and also they need to have to be actually a little bit extra vigorous concerning asking about traits like that to have a much better go from acquiring even more business on board with all of them. Nightlife-New-York-City Settlement: Join to Your Details Company In 2014, Pisarcik intends to concentrate on his label. He believes that this is one thing required in the honest year. Every year, he clarifies, they shed 5% from their regular clients-- it is actually the exact same throughout the market-- so they need to be actually concentrated on introducing brand-new consumers. He aims to improve and upgrade the logo design and signs at his metropolitan bar. He wishes the outdoor to create a much bolder declaration to ensure that even more individuals are going to understand them. In crowded, downtown Philadelphia, standing out is actually crucial. He clarifies that he understands people kind of want a preview from the setting and also setting just before they agree to check out an other bar than they're used to. The brand-new indications are a fantastic technique to get the passerby's attention as well as guide them to the pub on its own. Resolution: To Have Risks, Introduce, Experiment & Invent Carrying on to produce a feeling is actually the Mac computer n Cheese Attack Hamburger produced by Chicago's own Rockit Cheeseburger Pub in 2013. Billy Dec, the co-founder and also Chief Executive Officer of Rockit Cattle ranch Productions states that your team needs to interact constantly, take threats, problem yourselves regularly as well as be inventive. Weekly, the Rockit Cheeseburger Pub holds a Saturday night advertising enabling customers to prepare a burger it will then produce them. This likewise creates its own burgers weekly. Dec explains that the end result of this branding is that it fosters a culture from internal pioneers and also customers that take pleasure in and enjoy this style from meals lifestyle. He points out that it means much more clients, however furthermore, that creates amazing experiences, bring about increased press, social networking sites together with reputation. Resolution: Maintaining Organisation Drive In 2015 Billy Dec re-launched his bar, The Below ground, in Chicago. He will definitely certainly not be actually leaning on his success, nevertheless, as he desires to always keep the club's reasonable conveniences. He says that the way he means to accomplish that is by acting as though every weekend break is like the position weekend-- that indicates special events alongside excellent communication. He describes that they need to constantly be actually recalling at what they wished to get performed as well as continue making certain that they are actually prospering and also not losing even if whatever is going effectively or even it is actually too tough. Resolution: Make Use Of Innovation Better In 2014, to track trends, Narcissism Dinner Nightclub from Divine Superintendence, R.I., is actually mosting likely to begin using innovation to observe trends even more carefully. Beginning along with Swipely, which it started using last year, instead of its own previous CC processor chip in sizable part given that Swipely tracks various other practical metrics including advertising, customer information, support plans in addition to analytics. Ed Brady, the manager, mentions that he uses the innovation to track when and just how often customers walk in. This way he recognizes that on his slowest months he needs to have to advertise a lot more. One more benefit is actually that he can easily contact his clients directly. He claims that if they observe that a customer hasn't already been back in a few months, they could deliver them unique vouchers or maybe prefer them a satisfied birthday celebration. This year is going to definitely happen into emphasis due to the fact that he possesses a second year with which to match up. As he is going to have the ability to possess even more information, he thinks he'll manage to make much better marketing choices.

https://nightlifemoonscape.com/indianapolis-nye-2019/

[jkey19781-blog]

New Year’s Resolutions For Bar & Nightclub Owners

It's a Brand-new Year plus all of our company possess excellent objectives. Certainly not merely perform people possess settlements they would like to keep, however thus perform bar and pub managers. They want to improve company, assist their workers come to be high and additionally to amuse their customers. Have a browse a few of the resolutions for the coming New Year's Eve New York City 2018 that some proprietors are actually making off bars and also nightclubs in Manhattan. Resolution: Manage Your Social Media Site Better The proprietor and also driver of The Dram and also Candleroom, Tammy DeAlano is actually thinking of streamlining the processes he makes use of for social media sites. Taking treatment from all the required social outlets for three locations (a dining establishment, besides both nightspots) could be actually a little complicated under the ideal of scenarios. He explains that each month, it seems to be, there is actually a brand new internet site or even app that they want to remain on leading from. Nonetheless, this's a balance as they don't wish to swamp them. His pair of primary social media electrical outlets are actually Facebook and twitter. He doesn't intend to disperse his efforts out very a lot and prefer to merely concentrate on their major company and maintain this entertaining enough that customers intend to review. DeAlano has attempted numerous approaches of remaining in front of the social media game, like working with somebody to handle this and even his entire crew. In 2014, he's intending on tapping the services of a PR staff to take care of everything. He clarifies that with all the info and files they supply, this will be much easier to target extra efficiently. He plans for the PR folks to manage the day-to-day stuff, while he is going to take the accountability for the brand-building, grass-roots messages. Along with a really good Public Relations company that understands exactly what they're performing, they'll be capable to acquire great reviews so that they recognize exactly what to submit, when and also which procedures that will certainly offer the ideal chance to no in on their target reader. This will definitely enable his group the freedom to pay attention to genuine web content. New Years Eve Settlement: Ensure Exclusive Occasions as well as Parties in NYC or even Somewhere else Beginning in January, the bars New York City ranges intends to run advertisings in addition to Yuengling-- which is actually found out of nearby Newark, NJ. Ken Pisarcik, the owner, clarifies that they're teaming up along with Yuengling and also a ski resort so that they could assist develop each other up. If they have one thing various other places don't this will definitely assist steer service, he will as if to have a much deeper appearance right into exclusive discounts as he feels that. Pisarcik strongly believes that they need to have to walk out and find their chances. He clarifies that he has partnerships with spirits and draft beer providers which they have to be a bit a lot more vigorous concerning asking about traits like that to have a much better try of receiving much more business aboard along with all of them. Nightlife-New-York-City Settlement: Take Care Of Your Particular Company In 2014, Pisarcik plans to concentrate on his brand name. He strongly believes that this is one thing required in the honest year. Yearly, he details, they drop 5% of their normal clients-- it coincides throughout the industry-- so they have to be concentrated on generating brand-new customers. He wants to revamp the logo design and also update and also signs at his urban lobby. He prefers the exterior to make a much bolder claim in order that additional folks will definitely be actually mindful from all of them. In crowded, midtown Philly, standing apart is vital. He clarifies that he knows folks sort of wish an examine from the environment and also environment just before they are actually prepared to look at an other bar compared to they are actually made use of to. The brand-new signs are a terrific method to get the passerby's attention as well as drive all of them to bench itself. Resolution: To Have Risks, Introduce, Experiment & Invent Proceeding to produce an experience is actually the Mac n Cheese Assault Cheeseburger generated through Chicago's very own Rockit Cheeseburger Bar in 2013. Billy Dec, the co-founder and CEO from Rockit Ranch Productions points out that your team needs to interact consistently, have dangers, challenge yourselves consistently and be actually creative. Weekly, the Rockit Cheeseburger Pub holds a Sunday night promotion enabling clients to make up a hamburger this will then produce them. This also creates its own hamburgers weekly. Dec explains that the outcome of the advertising is actually that it encourages a culture of internal trailblazers and consumers which cherish this type and delight in of food society. He mentions that this indicates even more customers, but in add-on, it develops impressive expertises, bring about increased push, social media sites together with image. Settlement: Maintaining Organisation Drive In 2015 Billy Dec re-launched his bar, The Below ground, in Chicago. He will certainly not be depending his accomplishments, having said that, as he prefers to always keep the club's very competitive benefit. He mentions that the method he aims to perform that is through taking action as though every weekend is like the opening weekend break-- that suggests exclusive activities in addition to great interaction. He discusses that they need to have to consistently be actually recalling at exactly what they preferred to receive done and continue making certain that they're being successful and also certainly not coming up small even if everything is actually working out or even this is actually as well difficult. Settlement: Use Modern Technology Better In 2014, to track styles, Vanity An evening meal Nightclub away from Divine Superintendence, R.I., is going to begin making use of modern technology to observe patterns a lot more very closely. Beginning along with Swipely, which that began using in 2015, instead of its own previous CC processor in huge component due to the fact that Swipely tracks other practical metrics like advertising, consumer data, support systems in addition to analytics. Ed Brady, the proprietor, states that he uses the innovation to track when and just how usually consumers stroll in. In this way he knows that on his slowest months he has to promote extra. Another perk is that he can easily contact his customers directly. He mentions that if they view that a customer hasn't been back in a few months, they can deliver all of them unique discount coupons or maybe desire all of them a delighted special day. This year will truly happen right into focus due to the fact that he possesses a 2nd year along with which to match up. As he will certainly have the ability to possess additional information, he feels he'll be actually capable to make much better advertising and marketing selections.

http://nightlifemoonscape.com/new-years-eve-charleston-2019/