#midnight oil cafe

[puddingvalkyrie]

The Midnight Oil Café

(Working title)

The girl walked in and looked around. It was pretty cosy in here;  bright, patterned curtains, chunky wooden furniture. Every table had a little vase of flowers and a candle. The light would fade soon, and she was surprised the café was open this late.

  “Sorry to come in so close to closing time,” she apologised. “How long do I have? I don’t want to get in your way...”

  “All night,” came the answer. The barista turned around and leaned on the counter. He flicked a strand of his curly, black fringe out of his dark brown eyes. “We’re open ‘til dawn.” He flashed her a smile. “What’ll it be?”

  “How much is your cheapest drink?” the girl asked. She looked around for a menu. There was a blackboard propped up on the counter, but it had no prices.

  “Oh, it doesn’t work like that,” the man gave her another smile, this time showing his teeth. They were pointed. “We give you a drink, you give us a drink.” He leaned on the counter with both elbows, chin in both hands. “How about it?”

  “Uh...”

  “NO. No!” came a loud objection from a room behind the counter. A woman wrapped in colourful shawls with a cloud of chestnut hair tied in a high ponytail emerged with her hands on her hips. “We said we’re not doing that!”

  “But the customers expect it!” the barista complained, standing back up.

  “Don’t be fooled,” the woman addressed the girl. She took the man’s chin in one hand while she pointed at him with the other. “He’s not a suave, sexy vampire, he’s a DISASTER.”

  “I can relate...” the girl said, before she could stop herself. “To the disaster part, at least...”

  “It’s free,” the woman said. “IF you want to become a blood donor, great, we’re looking. If you don’t, you don’t. The two things are unconnected. What’ll it be?”

  “It’s... It’s really free?”

  “100%.”

  “I’ll just take a mudleaf infusion please.”

  “You got any special dietary requirements?” the woman asked. “Allergies?”

  “No. Um, I’ve had mudleaf before... no issues.”

  The girl sat in a corner. The sun was setting. She’d known this place had vampires, but this wasn’t how they usually worked... They were supposed to fly around at night and if you had a thing for vampires or whatever possessed people to become donors, you stood on your balcony in the evening. As far as she was aware, they didn’t bring tea and crumpets to the occasion. Bit hard to carry, when you’re a bat.

  “There you go, honey.” The woman put down a mug brimming with tea and slid over a plate. “Sorry if you don’t like eggs. Or garlic. Or parsley. Or butter.”

  “I didn’t order food,” the girl protested.

  “You look like you need it.” The woman lit the candle, then walked away.

The girl looked at the gently steaming egg, drowning in green-flecked butter. It would go cold pretty quickly. Pessimism fought hunger, and hunger won. The egg was delicious. The place was open all night, huh? This corner had a sofa, and it had plenty blankets draped over it... would they notice if she slept? Wait. Maybe that was the plan. Get customers sleepy and...

  “You can sleep there if you want,” the barista told her, making her jump. “I’ll keep an eye on your stuff.”

  “I don’t, um, I don’t have any ‘stuff’.”  She shifted uncomfortably. “Can I... can I maybe wash dishes or, or something?” Maybe it was better to stay awake. Keep busy.

  “Are you looking for a job?” the man asked.

  “Yes,” the girl replied, an idea occuring. She’d meant to go further, but... they wouldn’t look for her here, surely? The job would be at night, she wouldn’t have to risk being seen. Was she really far enough away, though? She could stay a few days and then leave. “Just for a, a week, maybe?”

The two vampires shared a look. “What’s your name, honey?” asked the woman.

  “Amara,” she replied.

  “This is Taran and I’m Divina,” the woman replied. “If it means anything to you, he’s a Le Fanu and I’m a Stollenheim.”

 “Oh. Um." It rang a distant bell. There were only a few vampire families, and fewer successful ones. Their names came up in the paper occasionally. Not that she paid attention to world news. What did it matter to her? She did wish she’d paid a little more attention. “...Not really, no.”

  “No?” Taran scratched his head. “I suppose no news is good news.”

  “There’s not much to do right now, so if you want, you can sleep for a few hours,” Divina told her. “You need a place to stay?”

  “Yes, but... I’ll figure it out later.”

  “Like I said, you can sleep there,” Taran said. “We’re kind of expecting it. For people to need to sleep.”

  “This is new to us, too,” Divina explained, seeing Amara’s confusion.

  “We only just opened and no-one’s ever done this before. That we know of,” Taran added.

  “Why?” Amara asked. “Why a café?”

  “Balcony trawling’s not my style.” Taran wrinkled his nose.

  “We actually met balcony trawling,” Divina continued. “We’d both had a bad night, and after some bickering and venting...”

  “Why does EVERYONE expect a relationship?!” Taran exploded. “I just want to be friends! I need at least three active donors and I am NOT polyamorous! I’m not anything-amorous!”

  “I keep telling you, if you insist on doing the suave vampire act, people will think you’re hitting on them,” Divina told him.

“I’m not hitting on them, I’m just being, you know, cool?” Taran replied. “I’m a cool guy.”

  Divina laughed. “You are. But you have to stop doing that, hun. If you want the romantic advances to stop.”

  “Why didn’t, er, why didn’t you like it?” Amara asked Divina. “The balcony... balcony... patrolling?”

  “Similar reasons,” Divina replied. “Plus I just feel like there’s a better way. I need blood to live, others need food, why not do something about it?”

   “So, uh, the pay...” If she was going to do this, she better do it right.

  “We’ll give you room and board,” Divina replied. “Plus, say, 3 Crowns a day spending money? How’s that?”

 Amara blinked. She couldn’t possibly have heard that right. “For washing dishes a few hours a night?”

 “I’m sure you’ll be doing more than that,” Divina said.

  “Like?” Amara tried not to squeak.

  “Like getting us fresh ingredients, baking, serving customers,” Divina clarified. “I’ll write you up a contract. It’s quiet, so I can do it now.”

  “Nothing blood related, right?” Amara asked.

  “Oh, we can’t afford paid blood donors, honey,” Divina told her. “You gotta be royalty or near as damn it for that.”

  “Okay then,” Amara agreed. “Sorry I just... I already had one bad contract.”

  “Is that what you’re running from?” Taran asked.

  Amara hunched up. “I don’t want to talk about it. I want to pretend it doesn’t exist.”

  “What were we even talking about?” replied Taran obediently. “Divina?”

  “You were going to show Amara the kitchen and where we keep everything and what’s on the menu and everything else our new star employee needs to know,” Divina prompted.

  “I thought I was the star employee.” He pouted at her.

  “The nice thing about stars is, there’s more than one,” Divina pointed out.

   He held up a finger. “Ah, then I shall aim to be the moon, my dear Divina.”

  “This is exactly what I’m talking about.” She smiled and shook her head.

  “Follow me, follow me, follow the kitchen wizard.” Taran beckoned to Amara.

  “He’s never used a stove in his life, don’t listen to him,” Divina remarked.

  “Do you want me to show her the kitchen, or don’t you?” Taran shot back.

  “Yes, yes, go ahead,” Divina replied. “Work should be fun. I, meanwhile, shall be writing the contract.”

  “Sounds super fun. I am so jealous.” Taran replied.

  “The equipment doesn’t look that different than the kitchen at... at my old place,” Amara remarked, ducking under Taran’s arm and eyeing the place critically. It was a lot smaller, barely bigger than a domestic kitchen. “Can you really serve customers with this?”

  “We’re not exactly expecting a lot of customers,” Taran explained. “Not at first, anyway. I guess we’ll just adapt as we go along?”

  “Yeah...”

  “You worked in a kitchen before then?” he asked.

  “Y-yeah.”

  “It doesn’t exist, gotcha.” He drummed his fingers on his cheek. “What’s your favourite kind of cake, Amara?”

  “Um... ginger. The housekeeper used to make us this delicious apple and ginger cake, before, before she...”

  “Sorry, sorry.” Taran scratched his head. “Non-kitchen question. Uh. Favourite... drink? No. Favourite animal?”

  “We weren’t allowed pets,”-Taran winced-“but I loved to go to the woods and listen to the birds sing.”

  “Birds, huh?” His face lit up. “Then check this out!” It was as though she blinked, but Taran was gone and a little nightingale stood in his place. The bird fluttered up to the table and sang. The delightful warbling echoed around the whole kitchen.

  Another blink, and Taran was sat on the edge of the table.

  “We don’t do the bat thing in my family,” Taran explained. “Gran likes birds. I’m really sorry though, I really think that’s all I got before we have to talk about kitchens again.”

  “It’s alright.” Amara steeled herself. “I shouldn’t ask for a job in a kitchen if I don’t want to think about kitchens. So. Where’s the pantry? I saw sponge cake on the menu, but I don’t see any. I’ll make one. That’s, that’s alright isn’t it?”

  “You’re very observant,” Taran complimented her. “Go ahead. I’m sure Divina will be happy. We didn’t want to make much today while we gauge how much business we’re gonna have, so we’re deliberately low on non-drink items.”

 “And DONE,” Divina announced some minutes later, waving a piece of parchment triumphantly at the doorway.

  Taran nodded to Amara. “Go and look. I’ll finish this. It just needs to go in the oven until it’s golden brown, right?”

  It was a fair contract. Good, even? Suspiciously good. Room, board, 3 Crowns a day pocket money, all as Divina had said. She could leave any time without notice, and she would work no more than six hours a day, though she was required to be on call for longer than that; the time the cafe was open and a little before that. Of course the main catch was that the café was open late into the night. It opened at 8pn and closed at 2bn.

  She hesitated as she held the quill above the line. They wouldn’t find her here if she worked at night. Right? Room and board. Spending money. Not that she’d be spending it. She’d be saving it for an emergency. A different emergency, that is. She was already in an emergency. She could leave any time. She could leave ANY TIME. Her hand shook as she signed, giving her a wobbly signature.

  Taran emerged from the kitchen.

  “Divina. Divina, I have a newfound passion for baking.” He gestured to the finished cake on the table. “Why have I never tried baking before? It smells amazing. It looks amazing. I get to decorate it." He bit his lip. “I wanna make more cakes, Divina.”

  “We’ve got enough cake so I’m going to need you to find a newfound passion for soup,” Divina replied.

  “Will do.” Taran gave her a three fingered salute. “Newfound passion for soup in three, two... now!” He turned on his heel and disappeared back into the kitchen.

  “Do you need to sleep?” Divina asked Amara.

  “Should I not stay awake? To adjust my sleeping pattern?” Amara asked back.

  “Hmm. Yes, but... maybe not all at once? Go take a little nap. I’ll wake you in an hour or so.”

Amara stared at the ceiling of her new room. And it was genuinely her room. She’d never slept alone before. She’d always been in bunk beds and hammocks. In servants’ quarters. Or the orphanage. She doubted she’d be able to sleep, but she had walked all day. She wanted to sleep. What was this feeling? It wasn’t safety. She wouldn’t feel safe here. It wasn’t like the woods. They’d never found her in the woods. Not once. If she could’ve lived in the woods, she would have. She didn’t feel safe, but she didn’t feel threatened either. Neutral. She felt... neutral. That would do. But she also felt hungry and tired and she didn’t really know these people. Vampires, huh? They had nothing on the orphanage director. Nor the workhouse foreman, and definitely not Lord Branndil. At least vampires only wanted your blood.

  She tossed and turned, but it was no good. She went downstairs.

  “Can I buy some of the paint I saw in the kitchen?” she asked. “Black, white, brown, green? Perhaps yellow and blue? You can take it out of my wages.”

  “You don’t need to give up your wages,” Divina reassured her. “You paint too, huh? We sure got lucky. What do you want to paint?”

  “My room. It’s just so... beige.”

  Divina nodded approvingly. “It is, that. Paint away. Wait, though.” The vampire narrowed her eyes at the girl. “You eat, first. And you get another drink. If I’m right, that egg you had is all you’ve had all day.”

  “You are right.”

  “Here, sandwich.” Divina plucked a plate from the counter and thrust at Amara. “And cut yourself a slice of that cake you made.”

  Amara blinked. “Isn’t it for the customers?”

  “We have to eat too.” Divina shrugged. “Besides, what the customers don’t eat, we’ll have to eat the leftovers. Keep that in mind and don’t make too much. Speaking of which, can you check on Taran? He’s not left the kitchen since I saw you last and I didn’t want to leave the counter unmanned.”

  Amara found Taran with his nose inches from a book on the counter, with four different pots on the boil, and spices everywhere. He threw a good pinch of one herb in one pot then sprinkled a spice into another. He tasted a little of each. He added even more herbs.

  “Um. Divina said we mustn’t make too much,” Amara cautioned, her voice wobbling.

  “What? Oh. Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Try this, will you? I think it needs a little something.” Taran gestured to the first pot. I’ve been experimenting with different things but I just can’t quite get it how I want it.” Amara took a spoonful and blew on it. It tasted okay, but bland. “Try the others for me?” She tried one after the other. They all had slightly different flavour profiles but were still bland.

  “Did you ... add salt?” she asked.

  “The recipe didn’t say so, so no,” Taran admitted.

  “This recipe book is pretty old.” Amara picked it up and flipped it over. “The old ones don’t tell you to add salt, because they assumed everyone knew to do it.”

 “I’m not everyone, recipe book!” Taran stuck out his tongue at it.

  “It’s okay. Just add some now. Um, I’d also recommend adding some more onions and garlic.” Amara gave the pots a stir, bringing up the vegetables to inspect them. “It’ll probably be a mushier soup than you maybe wanted but it’ll be okay.”

  “I was going for max mush, so that’s not a problem.” Taran wiped his brow. “Big relief. I thought I’d wasted a whole day’s ingredients.”

  Amara sat and ate her sandwich. She made herself an infusion from the giant pot of clear water gently bubbling on the other side of the kitchen. She sipped the brew and let her tired eyes wander over the kitchen. Something was off.

  “How are you keeping these fires going?” she asked. “I don’t see any fuel.” There was the one under the hot water and the four little ones under the soup pots.

  “Magic,” Taran replied. “We need to find a better way if we can, though. The more magic I use, the more blood I need. I’ll go balcony trawling if I have to, but the point of this place, besides feeding people, was to NOT have to do that.”

  “How often do you have to?” she asked.

  “Once every two months, if I use barely any magic,” he answered. “More like once a month though.”

  “Oh. That’s a lot less than I though’,” Amara mused. Did she just slur a word?

  “How much did you think?” Taran asked, tilting his head to one side.

  “Every day? I don’t know. Jus’ a lo’ more.” She blinked her eyes repeatedly. Was the kitchen always blurry?

  “Only true vampires need that much,” Taran explained. “I’m a great grandson so my situation is much improved.”

  “Hmm.” Amara almost face planted into her drink.

  “Woah, maybe go to bed?” Taran suggested, diving forward to move her cup out of the way. “Don’t get a faceful of hot, scalding liquid.”

   “Couldn’ slee’,” Amara mumbled. “Can’ slee’. Maybe in th’ woodsss...” She saw Taran dart forward again before she blacked out.

Amara jerked awake. She was in bed. A strange room. Beige. So very beige. The sun was shining strongly through the open curtains. She sat up so fast her head spun. What happened? She’d run away in the night. Walked all day. All day, barely stopping. Came to a cafe. Cafe. Vampires. She’d asked for a job. Contract. Soup. Vampire making soup. She’d suddenly been incredibly sleepy. Incredibly sleepy. Vampires.

  Her hand shot to her neck. Nothing. She got up and inspected it in the small mirror hanging over the wash basin. Still nothing. She turned for the door and nearly tripped over a stack of tins. Paint. She’d asked for paint. There was a note.

  ‘I had to carry you upstairs, I hope that was okay?

  You’d fallen asleep on the table.

  It turns out SOMEONE can’t tell medicine herbs from cooking herbs and the soup got doused with sleeping nettles.

  Divina’

A second part was in different handwriting:

‘I am so sorry Amara. The offending herbs have been identified and removed from the kitchen. The offending person has been identified (it’s me) and removed from the kitchen (temporarily).

  Taran’

  “That explains that then. Hmm.” Amara stared at the note for a long time. Finally she blinked herself back to reality and turned her attention to the paint. They’d included a set of brushes and a couple of cups of clean water. Amara picked up a brush.

By the time Divina knocked on the door to check on her that evening, the walls were covered in trees.

 

----

First new thing I've written in some years! I need to edit my first draft of Zaran's book but like. I don't wanna.

This is also basically a first draft. I don't normally post things this fresh for other people to read but like... I wish to get something out there.

I know it's lacking in description especially.

[lwyikas]

Art and Passion ft Kuroo Tetsurou

" There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people"

“Can you not look while i write?You’re distracting me”

“Rejected” he grinned while watching you take notes in your notebook. You don’t even remember if you offered him to come museum with you, but here. At least some of his perspective on works of art helps.He bends down to look at what you wrote and grimaces.

“I have endless respect for you being an art enthusiast but if people who keep history wrote like you, a third of history would not reach future generations.”He didn’t even try to suppress his giggle while commenting on your article with a serious and wise, rather convulsive manner.He adores nerve in your eyes and frowning, oh you probably want to put the notebook on his head.

“It has been proven that smart people write awful”okay maybe he’s right,But you won’t entertain him more by accepting this.

“By whom?”

“Your mo-“your little aggressive sentence was not complete with he pulling you under his arms and imprisoning you in his chest.

“I’d rather you express your love for me in a more docile way, and for God’s sake, why didn’t you complete this earlier?will we stay here until midnight?

“I didn’t bring you here by force, you can go if you’re bored”You whined while saving yourself from his arms and fixing your hair.

“No it’s late,maybe thieves will come to steal Mona Lisa after I leave? I have to be here to save my sweetie”

“You are quite a gentleman, but original Mona Lisa is in Paris”but the important one is thought, admirable.You’re gazing at him,He shakes his foot Non-stop, sighs every five minutes. You’re bored too, we need to add some color.

“We will have diputation with you about Van Gough, i need your attractive ideas follow me” your raise tone get his attention.He offers you an arm. “Care to join me ma'am?”

Your eyes are gleaming as you giving him cheering smile. “It would be my pleasure.”As you two were walking, crowd around museum was dwindling, it was impossible not to notice young girls glances at him around. You tightened grip on his arm and you couldn’t help but stealing glances from him.He’s so tall and handsome ass hell. Even if his black hair has a weird style ,it didn’t make this man less attractive, even a little bit. We won’t even talk about his hazel eyes. Be sure that it won’t be difficult to find adore in those eyes that always on you and soften with you every moment.He notices your gaze and a slight pinkness appears on his cheeks. But of course he will never give you this opportunity.

“I think this is the painting you’re talking about” He's so bad, but he does it so well. When you’re looking for something in your bag, he takes out his phone and checks the clock. 9:45. After training, he was still tired and really he wants just his bed and rest. And he was bored like shit. But he enjoys spend time with you, he wouldn’t wait 2 hours to examine ancient vases or old paintings for anyone else except you in world when he is that tired. He gets rid of his thoughts with small “yay”sound coming from you.You probably found what you were looking for.

“Couldn’t you look at these paintings on google?”

“Nooo,look there are more detailed articles about its history below, and if I did it at home, i would probably be bored, it’s fun to romance things” He smiled sincerity and scratch his arms over his head.”As you wish goody goody”

“Alright,this is ‘cafe terrace at night’, Vincent van Gogh’s painting with oil on canvas in 1888. Van Gogh used theme of the starry sky for the first time in this. Although the work, in which the night view of cafe is reflected, is generally dominated by dark colors, no shade of black color was used in the drawing.Instead, with preferred warm colors and depth of perspective, this painting is unusual for Van Gogh’s works.”You explained with excitement.

“Yes, when i look, i can definitely feel emotions.” It’s nice painting, but mixed colors, metaphors and so on, he can’t say he gets messages right.

“Really?”

“No”

“What do you see when you look at it?”

He turns back to painting and examines it.“Tables, peoples, buildings, and stars.I guess i liked starts more.The colors catch my eye, but I can’t say much in terms of emotion, it’s a peaceful picture.”he stated.

“Such wise words,you must be a work interpreter”

“I’m trying my best!”

“But you got a point, intense and contrasting shades of bright yellows and dark blue not only convey a sense of harmony, but also reflect the emotional state of the artist. The azure sky, illuminated by stars, acts as a contrast to the warm yellows of the cafe. The side-by-side collar of colors creates a dynamic tension between light and dark, reflecting the emotional complexity that often characterizes.”

“You’re very attractive when you speak wisely”

“Tetsu”

“Fine fine, there are no colors that are completely in harmony with each other, even if it took my eye at first, after what you said, it seems more compatible to me in this way. If contrasting colors were used elsewhere, it would probably be “help”, but this painting is in harmony, it is not boring and overwhelming.”He crossed his arms and nodded jokingly while explaining.

“So you’re saying when things are concordant and monotonous with each other overwhelm you?”

“Maybe,calmness and peace are good, but above all, the passion of contrasts gets me in one move.”You stopped for a second and keep going take notes of what he said.

“I would rather die of passion than boredom”

This is no longer about the painting. You can get from his gazes and tone . You both stand in silence but he can hear a lot in silence.You two look at art but there are completely different thoughts in both minds. His rough hand rubs slowly to yours.But you both won’t make a move for more.He tries not to show it, but his ears are pink.

“We can go now”

“Ha?”

“I did complete writing”You put your notebook to bag and he helped you wear your jacket.You always say that you could wear yourself , but he always tell shut up.It’s a small thing he enjoys in his own way, so you don’t find it necessary to oppose too much.

When you two out cold air hits your face. It’s already dark. God, how many hours have you been there? But the hours didn’t seem too long to you. You don’t think you’ll get a low grade from your work, but it doesn’t matter if you take it, you don’t change these memories with him for anything.

“Its awful that you finished too early, we hadn’t yet come to the part where I read love poems to you”You wouldn’t exchange his antics for anything.

“You have to rest then you can pour your love for me into serenades”

“Definitely i will”he grins and pulls you closer.Kisses your temple.You’re glad he didn’t see blushing on your cheeks or you thought he didn’t.You two walking towards bus stop.

Hand in hand.

[ggensblog]

hey there stranger | s.r.

summary: spencer's been spending a lot of late nights at a cafe

warnings: i really can't think of anything, mentions of working late, unedited, bad writing (probably), caffeine addiction, gender neutral reader, no use of 'y/n', general overthinking, this is my first time writing for spence ;-;

word count: 1.8k

masterlist

11:03 pm

You were almost done with your usual closing shift, taking a glance and the ever so slowly moving hands on the clock across the cafe every once in a while. You didn’t have any plans, per say, but were anxious to get home and finally rest. 

The cafe wasn���t particularly busy this late, but still had its usual stragglers coming in to burn the midnight oil.

“Hey there Mr.Delancey, the usual this evening?” You grinned at the older man in front of you. Mr.Delancey was the owner of a bar downtown that closed just an hour before your cafe. It was typical of him to stop by after closing up.

“You got it,” The man took out his wallet, paid, and took his drink to go, almost like second nature. You let your shoulders slack after he walked out, looking once again to the clock and then finding your eyes caught on a familiar mop of brown hair in the corner of the seating area.

You turned to your coworker who was doing some sort of ‘pass the time’ task.

“Manila folder guy’s back again?” He must’ve come in during your break- you would’ve remembered his soft brown eyes and even more so the bags underneath them. You didn’t know much about him, not having been able to make small talk with him whenever he came in.

“Yeah, I think this is the third night this week,” Your coworker looked over to the man briefly before returning to their task. “I mean, you can’t really beat the late great closing time of midnight around here” you joked to yourself, entering a tip amount into the computer system. You coworker chuckled then looked out of the front windows.

“Hey you mind if I grab a smoke? There’s hardly anyone coming in.” You shoo your coworker off then look back to the man in the corner. It took you another 10 minutes to muster up enough courage to approach him.

You walked up to the table, a refill of the man’s familiar order in hand.

“So what are you working on this late?” Your own voice startles you to some amount, breaking the silence that occupied the shop for what felt like eternity. The man didn’t bother to look up, instead continuing to flip aimlessly through the folders. You caught a look at the pictures in them, cringing before tilting your head to the side.

“They’re all wearing rings.” You muttered. The man looked up, then back down to the folders, his eyebrows raising. “Sorry, I don’t know what this is, and I don’t think I really want to know but-yeah. On their pinkies, the small gold ring.”

“Nice, uh, nice catch. I don’t know how I didn’t see that.” He spoke finally, writing something down then looking back up to you. “I’m Spencer. Reid. I’m a profiler for the FBI.” Your eyebrows raised then. “FBI huh? So looking at cryptic photos in a manila folder isn’t just a hobby?” You kind of laugh to yourself, crossing your arms and shifting your weight. Spencer doesn’t seem to think your comment was as funny as you did, but still offered a soft smile.

“I’m afraid not.” The silence is back and fuck you are realizing that this guy- this rando FBI profiler is really cute. Before your brain can catch up your mouth is already running again.

“Have you always wanted to be in the FBI?” From there you manage to carry a small conversation, taking the seat in front of him and listening as he talks about his high IQ or eidetic memory.

11:34pm

Your coworker whistles at you from behind the coffee bar, pointing to the clock and beginning to shut down the espresso machines.

“Well Dr.Reid, it was great meeting you. I hope you catch whoever is doing- that,” you motion to the now closed folder.

You get up to move back to the coffee bar, taking off your apron and placing it by the register. Spencer continues to look over his notes. Against your better judgment you turn back around to face the brunette man. 

“I know this is probably really forward of me- but would you want to grab dinner sometime?” You began to ramble about some diner down the street and Spencer takes another sip of his coffee. “I mean- it could totally just be a casual thing but I would really like to get to know you more…” You trailed off- your motor mouth finally running out of fuel.

Spencer’s eyes softened, and he looked down at the workload in front of him. It was almost like he was debating with himself.

“I- I would love to but I’m really usually caught up with work so I don’t have a lot of time for,,, dinner…” You nod. “Right yeah- yeah of course. Have a good night, Spencer.” With that you walked behind the coffee bar and sunk down to the floor behind the espresso machines.

“Ouch,” You run a hand over your face, embarrassment flowing through your veins. You decide to brush it off and begin busying yourself with sidework.

12:03

The cafe was finally closed. Spencer had left in the last 10 minutes and you managed to spot clean every single spoon in the store.

“Dude I just- I know I like don’t even know him but that was so embarrassing” You whine, counting the dollar bills in the register and taking note of them.

“What do you mean?” Your coworker was checking the temperatures in the different mini fridges.

“Like- of course he wouldn’t want to go out with a total stranger. I don't even know why I asked.” Your hands flopped back down on the counter in front of you. You were tired, you were embarrassed, and you just wanted to go home for the night. 

“I’m sorry who are we talking abou-”

“Spencer! I thought I told you.” You turned around and leaned against the counter. “Manila folder guy- he- he’s cute. In a dorky kinda nerdy way.” You grinned at the thought.

“Oh! No he was totally looking at you all night when you got back here.”

“No he wasn’t.”

“He was! I saw him with my own two eyes.” Your coworker laughed and gestured to their eyes. “I think maybe he’s just genuinely busy with work… You said he was a cop or something right?”

“He’s FBI- I don’t even know if I should’ve told you. I feel like that’s something that’s supposed to be a secret. Or is that CIA? I can never remember.” You shook your head, your thoughts trailing from the initial subject of the conversation.

“Whatever- the point is, he was totally making eyes at you after you walked away.” You rolled your eyes at this, turning back to finish counting the money.

The rest of the night is quiet after that.

1 week later, 3:45pm

It was a rare occasion for you to not work the closing shift. You weren’t complaining since it meant getting home earlier and maybe even getting dinner from somewhere other than a 24 hour convenience store.

You were working with the same coworker you normally do, and you were thankful since you weren’t really close with any of your other coworkers.

The afternoon regulars were different from the evening regulars. They were still kind, but definitely far more impatient.

“I’ve got 1 medium hot cappuccino and a large iced cold brew with oat milk to go.” You write the order on the side of the cups and move them to your coworker down the coffee bar. You take the customer’s payment and give them a smile before readying yourself for the next customer.

“Uhm, the usual?” You knew this voice. You didn’t think you’d hear this voice again.

“Spencer. It’s nice to see you again. You catch that bad guy?”

Spencer laughed at this. He thought you were easy to talk to that night, and he still thinks so now. He could tell you were a little out of your element when you initially approached him but you were generally easy to build rapport with.

“Yeah- we did. But there’s always another one out there.” You nod, then realize you hadn’t entered his order in the computer yet.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry-” You tapped one of the buttons and grabbed a sit-in mug. You nodded to your coworker. “A manila folder.” Your coworker nodded back and when you returned your attention to Spencer you found him with his eyebrows furrowed.

“It’s what we call your order. Since you always have those folders.” You shrug and Spencer nods. “Anyway, it’ll be $3.75.” You put your customer service smile back on and take the $5 from the man.

“Keep the change and actually, I wanted to come by and see if that dinner offer was still on the table? Work is light this week and- uh- I’d like to get to know you more too.”

You’re taken aback, but your coworker who suddenly has supersonic hearing peeks over your shoulder. 

“They get off at 5.” Your head whips around to look at your coworker who simply mouths a ‘you’re welcome’ before continuing to make Spencer’s drink.

“So I’ll stick around until 5 and then maybe we can check out that diner?” You nod.

“Yeah- yeah I’d really,” Your voice catches in your throat and you swallow before continuing, “I’d really like that.”

extra:

It was a Monday morning, the day after Spencer supposedly rejected you. While you were retracing the conversation in your mind to think of things you’d do differently, Dr.Reid fiddled with his notepad, looking over the tip you gave him about the rings.

Hotch had dismissed the team to continue on their individual tasks, but Spencer hung back almost lost in his own mind.

“Okay pretty boy what’s got you distracted today.” Derek Morgan sat with his chair turned and raised a brow at the genius.

“Nothing at all. Just thinking about- about the case.” Spencer tried to cover but as smart as he was, he wasn’t very good at hiding his current thoughts.

“Bullshit- what’s on your mind.”

“Well I think- I think someone asked me out last night.” Derek’s once cheeky look turned to that of surprise.

“You’re kidding.” Spencer shook his head, “You’re not, well what did you say?”

“Well I told them the truth- we’re pretty busy right now.” Derek laughed. “No way- you rejected them? I didn’t take you for a heartbreaker, Reid.”

“I’m not! I just- we are pretty busy..” Spencer trailed and Morgan shook his head. “You need to go back and ask them out, clearly if you’ve been letting this get in the way of finding this damn killer, they’re worth it.”

“Yeah- okay maybe I will.”

“But not before we solve the case, so let’s move it pretty boy.”

[christinescupofcoffee]

Midnight Oil

Chapter Five: Lightning in a Bottle

Alex awaited Christian’s return to the room upon the foot of the bed with his legs wide open and his long black curls sprawled over his shoulders like the long tresses of a lion’s mane. There was a part of him that thought he was about to have a blowjob done while Christian was in his Falk Maria robes, but then again, there was no way he could guess anything out of it, especially when the cafe and this place they had ducked out in came completely out of left field for him. Christian could have an elaborate plot waiting in the wings for him, and especially once he reappeared in his robes; in fact, Alex had no idea if he was even going to reappear in his Falk Maria garb. 

He could return dressed like a robot as far as he knew, with the long silvery antennae jutted out from the crown of his head and silver makeup schmeared across his face.

He rubbed his hands over the top of the duvet, and he bounced up and down on the foot of the bed. The springs creaked ever so slightly, and he leaned back a bit onto his back.

There was a part of him that thought of stripping off his shirt for a round of temptation in the topless sector, but he decided to save it for once things got moving along. He rubbed his hands once more over the top of the duvet, which felt as soft as freshly woven silk. He then turned around and leaned onto his side to take a whiff of the fabric underneath him, which smelled freshly cleaned and then sprayed with some soft cologne.

All the smells, all the feeling around him, and he could wholly understand why Christian came into here and set up a nice little room for them in the meantime. He smirked to himself and returned his attention to the doorway across the floor from him: silence save for a soft rustling sound in the next room over as it flowed into the room. He prepared himself to look on at what Christian had in store for him, but it was rather useless as he simply could not resist the fluttery feeling within him. It could have been because he had had a great deal to eat before showing up, but nothing could deny the silken feeling inside. Indeed, it made him want to recline back on his elbows just so his flat beautiful belly could be on display for Christian once he came into the room.

The rustling sound continued in the next room and he could hardly sit still at that point. It was like waiting for John Scofield to come onstage after waiting in the line for several hours on end in the cold, unforgiving Bay Area winds. Alex shifted his weight on the foot of the bed, and he stretched out his legs before him as if he was preparing to do yoga. When he stretched out, he leaned back more and he could feel the bottom hem of his shirt lifting up a bit.

With one hand, he unbuttoned his pants and let his shirt lift up even more so as to show off his skin. Tendrils of his black curls sprawled down over his chest like a series of vines. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip as well as his top row of teeth, and he could feel the passion pulsing through him. He was ready, and he was growing hungrier with each and every passing minute.

The rustling finally came on closer to the door of the room, and Christian emerged from the hallway. His gray and black robe cascaded down to the floor as if he was about to preach a sermon: he had put on a face full of silver, white, and black makeup as well, to which the black surrounded his eyes to make his face resemble to a skull. He had swept his platinum blond hair back from his face in a light, delicate little wave, and he had put on black leather gloves which extended up to his elbows: he looked ready to experiment on Alex.

Christian barred his teeth as if he was the wolf man, to which he followed it up with a low guttural growl.

“Bark at the moon, my creature,” Alex decreed with a toss of his hair back from his shoulders. He reclined back on his hands and kept his legs wide open to show off the crotch of his pants as well as the inside of his legs.

Christian linked his fingers together and stretched his hands and wrists.

“Bark at the moon as I come for you so good,” he retorted back, and he lunged for Alex’s legs, to which he slid back onto the bed, flat onto his back. Christian missed his legs, but he managed to be an inch over his crotch. Alex lifted himself onto his elbows, and a few stray locks of hair dangled down on the side of his face; Christian cracked him a playful little smile, and he ran his fingers down the tops of Alex’s thighs. He flinched his legs about from the feeling, which only made Christian smirk even more.

“What is the matter? Does that tickle?”

Alex wasn’t going to reply to that. Instead, he slid further back on the duvet towards the pillows at the head of the bed. He sat upright to show off his whole body to the wolf man, including his undone pants and the slight crinkle to the bottom hem of his shirt.

“Very cute,” Christian told him with a flash of an eyebrow.

“What, the splits or the fact that I’ve nearly exposed myself to you here?” Alex teased him, and he ran his hand up the bottom hem of his shirt to show off the soft skin and his slender belly underneath. He held the hem of his shirt up against his chest and bowed his head so his hair dangled down once again.

“Both,” Christian replied with a lick of his lips and a crawling towards him even with the bottom hem of his robes having extended all the way down to his feet and ankles.

Alex leaned back against the pillows behind him, and all the while, he never let go of his shirt. He leaned back while showing off his belly to Christian, who moved in closer to his thighs and the undone button of his jeans. He noticed the makeup was only on his face and not on his lips. He could kiss his belly and not leave a mark.

There was part of Alex that wanted him to leave a mark on his skin, a means of showing off to the world that he had received one hell of a kiss from the wolf man, that they had quite the night alone together.

Christian held still right over his lap and his crotch, while Alex kept his hand steady on the bottom hem of his shirt. Slowly, he fanned out his fingers as if to give himself a gentle little massage in front of him. He had eaten a lot, after all: he could tease him some more with the look of him. Christian crawled in closer with nothing more than his strong lanky arms, down there on his chest and his stomach like that of a slithering snake.

Before he could even so much as pounce unto him like the wolf man he was, Alex lunged off to the side of the bed. When he reached the edge, he nearly fell off the mattress and onto the floor, and his pants nearly fell off all the while as well. He caught himself, however, and he slid his legs off first onto the floor.

“I might have the center of gravity in my guts but I’m nimble and lanky,” he teased Christian, who then stuck out his tongue at him like the snake he was for him. Before he could even so much as lift himself from the bed to chase him, Alex ducked around the edge of the bed for the camera there on the shelf. Christian rolled over onto his back and sat upright on the duvet, now slightly wrinkled from their animalistic movements.

Alex swiped the camera and licked his lips: the bottom hem of his shirt was still lifted up from the undone button of his jeans, but that was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

“I’m gonna sex you up,” he declared as he held the camera before his face. “I’m gonna sex you up so good!”

He aimed and pushed the shutter button, which in turn sent out a bright flash over the room. The camera spat out the photograph at the very front and fell to the floor before Alex’s feet. While Christian rubbed his eyes, he stooped down and scooped up the fresh photograph and waved it about before him to dry it out.

Alex looked on at the photograph and raised an eyebrow at the sight before him: the wolf man perched upon the bed with his legs wide open, his makeup pristine, and his hair still very much in place upon the crown of his head. He set it on the shelf next to him to let it dry out even more.

“Shall I show my teeth?” Christian offered him.

“Please,” Alex coaxed him. “Be my animal. Be the wolf man, big fella.”

Christian slid his legs off to one side so he was laying on his hip. He propped himself up on one hand and cocked out his hip to accentuate the shape of his body. Alex licked his lips again and took another picture, once more with the bright flash of light and the fresh photograph falling to the floor before the toes of his feet. 

Christian puckered his lips and leaned forward. Another picture.

He then bowed his head and curled his upper lip so as to show off his teeth. A third picture.

Christian then held up two fingers before his face as if to bless him prior to his taking his picture for him, which in turn cued Alex into lowering his camera and sinking down to one knee before him. His long hair spread over his shoulder and his upper back like a long lush blanket protecting him from Christian’s prowess.

“Bless me, father, for I have sinned,” he said in a teasing tone of voice. It felt weird for him to say that as he was not a man of god by any means, but he wanted to tempt Christian in a way that he could never tempt before. He held the camera before his face again for another good shot of him, but that time in a way where the light could cast down over him in a different fashion.

Another flash of light and that time, Christian closed his eyes and shook his head about from the sudden brightness. Alex then ran his fingers through his curls again, which in turn made the roots of his gray streak flash out in the open, another little bright flash of light.

“I’m going down so hard…”

“And I am about to make you go down even harder,” Christian told him, and he lowered his voice to where he sounded like an actual wolf man. Alex raised his eyebrows as Christian made a pair of triangles in the air before his face. It took him a second to realize that he was making the Star of David rather than the Latin cross so as to bless him that way instead. He then moved his fingers to his collar and opened it up to show off the top of his chest.

Alex let out a low whistle when he saw that Christian was not wearing a shirt underneath those robes. As far as he knew, he wasn’t wearing anything under there.

“It’s like a war in here,” Christian declared, still with that low gruff voice, to which he adjusted the collar on his robes again. Alex snapped another photograph from down on the floor.

Christian undid another button and showed off more of his chest. Another photograph.

Another button. Followed by another. He unbuttoned all the way down to his ankles, only for Alex to see that he did in fact have pants on, but he could hardly take his eyes off his bare chest and stomach, both of which were toned and sleek, which in turn made him feel rather self-conscious about his deep chest and soft but slender belly, like that of a boy who fretted about his body but indulged every now and again.

Nevertheless, Alex took another handful of photographs from down on the floor, and then he stood up to his feet for a full view of Christian’s body. Once the photograph fell to the floor again, Alex fanned himself with the side of his hand. He glanced behind him to the line of Polaroids down on the floor behind him, as if they were shooting a music video.

“You know I’m going to jerk off to these now, right?” Alex teased him.

“May I join you?” Christian offered with a raise of his eyebrows, and Alex nibbled on his bottom lip. He wondered where this was going lest the wolf man before him had another ace up his sleeve.

“After lunch.”

[zuffee]

Why Does Coffee Make Me Sleepy?

Coffee is often the go-to beverage for people seeking an energy boost to power through busy days. It’s particularly popular among young professionals juggling demanding work schedules, students burning the midnight oil, and parents looking for a quick pick-me-up during hectic routines. But what happens when that much-needed cup of coffee has the opposite effect, leaving you feeling drowsy instead of energized? Let’s dive into the reasons why coffee might make you sleepy, even when you’re counting on it to perk you up.

1. The Role of Caffeine in Coffee

Caffeine is the primary active ingredient in coffee that makes it such a popular stimulant. When you consume caffeine, it blocks adenosine receptors in your brain. Adenosine is a chemical that builds up throughout the day and signals your body that it’s time to rest. By blocking adenosine, caffeine temporarily tricks your brain into feeling more alert.

However, this blocking effect isn’t permanent. Once the caffeine wears off, the adenosine that has been building up floods your receptors, potentially making you feel even sleepier than before. This “sleepiness rebound” is one of the key reasons coffee can leave you feeling drowsy.

2. The Sugar-Caffeine Connection

Many popular coffee drinks, especially among younger audiences in Malaysia, are loaded with sugar. Iced lattes, caramel frappes, and flavored mochas are delicious but often contain significant amounts of sugar. While sugar provides an immediate energy spike, it’s typically followed by a crash as your blood sugar levels drop rapidly. This crash can leave you feeling tired, counteracting the stimulating effects of caffeine.

For health-conscious individuals or those seeking a steady energy boost, consider opting for unsweetened coffee or using natural sweeteners like stevia. This helps avoid the dramatic blood sugar swings that contribute to post-coffee fatigue.

3. Dehydration and Coffee

Coffee is a diuretic, which means it can increase the frequency of urination and potentially lead to dehydration if not balanced with enough water intake. Dehydration is a common cause of fatigue and drowsiness.

If you’re in the habit of drinking multiple cups of coffee a day, especially in Malaysia’s hot and humid climate, ensure you’re also consuming plenty of water to stay hydrated. This simple adjustment can significantly improve your energy levels.

4. Tolerance and Overconsumption

For regular coffee drinkers, the body develops a tolerance to caffeine over time. This means you may need more caffeine to achieve the same energizing effect, but increasing your intake can lead to diminishing returns. Overconsumption can result in jitters, anxiety, and even drowsiness as your body struggles to metabolize the excess caffeine.

To reset your caffeine tolerance, try reducing your coffee intake gradually over a week or two. Switching to decaf or herbal teas during this period can help minimize withdrawal symptoms while allowing your body to regain sensitivity to caffeine.

5. The Timing of Your Coffee Consumption

Drinking coffee at the wrong time of day can interfere with your natural energy cycles. For example, consuming coffee late in the afternoon or evening may disrupt your circadian rhythm, making it harder to fall asleep at night. Poor sleep quality, in turn, leaves you feeling fatigued the next day, regardless of how much coffee you consume.

For most people, the best time to drink coffee is mid-morning, after your body’s natural cortisol levels (which promote alertness) begin to dip. In Malaysia, where coffee culture thrives in both urban workspaces and trendy cafes, timing your coffee breaks strategically can make a big difference in maintaining productivity.

6. Stress and Sleep Debt

High stress levels and chronic sleep deprivation can blunt the effects of caffeine. If your body is already exhausted, a cup of coffee might not be enough to counteract the overwhelming need for rest. Instead of feeling energized, you may end up feeling even more tired as your body signals its need for proper sleep.

To combat this, prioritize good sleep hygiene. Aim for 7-8 hours of quality sleep per night, and consider incorporating stress-reducing practices like mindfulness, exercise, or yoga into your daily routine. Coffee can only do so much; your body still needs adequate rest to function at its best.

7. Individual Differences and Genetics

Not everyone metabolizes caffeine the same way. Your genetic makeup can influence how quickly or slowly your body processes caffeine. Some people are “slow metabolizers” of caffeine, meaning it stays in their system longer and may have unexpected effects, such as making them feel sluggish.

If you suspect that your body reacts differently to caffeine, consider experimenting with smaller doses or switching to alternatives like matcha, which contains caffeine but also provides a steady release of energy due to its high L-theanine content.

8. Hidden Ingredients in Your Coffee

If you’re a fan of coffee creamers, syrups, or milk-based coffee drinks, these additives might be contributing to your drowsiness. Many commercial creamers and flavored syrups are high in sugar and artificial ingredients that can cause energy crashes.

For a cleaner coffee experience, try brewing your coffee at home using high-quality beans and natural flavorings like cinnamon or vanilla extract. This approach not only enhances the taste but also eliminates unnecessary additives that might be affecting your energy levels.

Popular Coffee Alternatives in Malaysia

For those looking to avoid coffee-related drowsiness, Malaysia offers a variety of caffeine alternatives that provide a more balanced energy boost:

Teh Tarik: A traditional Malaysian milk tea that’s less caffeinated than coffee but still provides a gentle pick-me-up.

Matcha Latte: A health-conscious option packed with antioxidants and a smoother energy release.

Kopi-O Kosong: Black coffee without sugar, offering a purer caffeine experience without the sugar crash.

Herbal Teas: Options like ginger tea or lemongrass tea are caffeine-free but invigorating in their own way.

Kombucha: A fermented tea that’s gaining popularity for its probiotic benefits and mild caffeine content.

Final Thoughts

If coffee makes you sleepy, it’s not all in your head. Factors like sugar content, dehydration, caffeine tolerance, and even genetics play a role in how your body responds to coffee. By understanding these factors and making small adjustments such as drinking water alongside your coffee, reducing sugar, or timing your caffeine intake better—you can enjoy your favorite brew without the unwanted drowsiness.

So, the next time you grab your cup of kopi or indulge in an artisanal pour-over, you’ll know exactly how to make the most of your coffee experience, and stay awake to savor every sip.

[barneyandthepoetrymuse]

Dystopic reign…..

Though shadows veil the naked alleyways…

Suggestion lives in the penumbra haze…..

Side street walls by the midnight cafe’s…..

……..a half dressed women in lingerie….

Cash for coffee to come in out of the rain….

Reduced to her knees if it buys her cocaine

Temperature’s dropping…..it’s already late…

Dim lit buildings and the glass is opaque….

The stones are wet….right up the the gates

…where all the greasy decisions are made…

The delegations are only there to get laid…..

Corruption always gives less than it pays…..

………It’s all a bank job run by the state…..

Immigration policy is oiling the chains…..

Overseeing child exploitation campaigns…

Lipstick on the dollar and make up stains…..

Intubated trash talk straight into her veins…

Left to the sidewalk..kicked into the drains…

called her a whore and dissociation names

It’s endemic…and there’s new social strains

Signs of a struggle an investigator claims…

Somebody’s uncovered…human remains…

ditched in a dark corner battered and raped

…out with the trash…dumped in the waste…

Fingerprints don’t match…unsolvable case

She was just in the wrong time and place…

Time of death irrelevant, a certificate states

No known relations…unfortunate mistake…

We’re all kept asleep to think we’re awake…

The truth is engineered…the lies are all fake…

your life isn’t yours…..you’ve got nothing to say…

..…………………class of 2024’s dystopia reign……

Orwell was right…..we just read it too late…..

[starsaver94]

Hey Star! My brainrot for Strings of Fate is strong for some reason, and I was curious about this. What’s the cast favorite colors and why (if there’s a reason applicable). And while we’re on the topic, what’s their least favorite color?

Alrighty *cracks knuckles*

Yumi: Favorite: Forest Green (reminds her of both trees and snake scales)/Least Favorite: Doesn't have one

Madoka: Favorite: Cerulean (color of the ocean)/Least Favorite: Black (reminds her of oil/pollution)

Rose: Favorite: A tie between red and pastel pink (Valentine colors)/Least Favorite: Black or grey (dull and boring colors)

Shiro: Favorite: Chestnut Brown (doesn't have a reason, he just likes the color)/Least Favorite: Doesn't really have one.

Haruo: Favorite: Bright Yellow (A bright and cheery color. Reminds him of the circus that he worked at)/Least Favorite: Olive green (doesn't have a reason, he just thinks it's a gross color)

Misaki: Favorite: Doesn't have one (she loves any color that reminds her of plants or flowers)/Least Favorite: Also doesn't have one.

Kuro: Favorite: Evergreen (reminds him of pine trees)/Least Favorite: Cerulean (reminds him of the ocean, which he has a fear of).

Izanagi: Favorite: Coffee Brown (he loves coffee and it also reminds him of cafe's he used to perform at)/ Least Favorite: Gray (thinks it's a boring color)

Mei: Favorite: Electric Blue (She likes how energetic it looks)/Least Favorite: Doesn't have one.

Kana: Favorite: A tie between bright yellow and scarlet (colors of her race car)/Least Favorite: Hot Pink (thinks it's too girly)

Satoshi: Favorite: Bronze (no reason, just likes it)/Least Favorite: Ash and Smoke Gray (reminds him of smoke).

Daichi: Favorite: Cherry Blossom pink (reminds him of spring in his home village, doesn't tell people because he's embarrassed)/Least Favorite: Red (reminds him of blood. He hates killing unless he feels like the person absolutely deserves it)

Katsumi: Favorite: A tie between mint green and gold (reminds her of her favorite mint gum and winning)/Least Favorite: Silver or Bronze (reminds her of losing).

Tashiro: Favorite: Midnight Blue (just likes it)/Least Favorite: Yellow (too bright for him).

Yuri: Favorite: Ink Black (reminds her of both reading and writing literature)/Least Favorite: Yellow (same reason as Tashiro)

Aya: Favorite: Any pastel colors (she likes the aesthetics)/Least Favorite: Wine Red (reminds her of a time a client returned one of her dresses because they didn't know how to get a wine stain out. She knows that it's a petty reason)

Griffin: Favorite: Favorite: Purple (he just likes it)/Least Favorite: Metallic colors like gold, silver, bronze, copper, etc (he doesn't like things that remind him of his royal heritage)

Kanaye: Favorite: Dark Blue (just likes it)/Least Favorite: Orange (just doesn't like it)

[jaydeemedia]

[ad_1] I push my finger against the slightly steamy bus window, tracing saw-toothed mountains meeting a star-lit sky. On any other evening, the darkness would make these extremes indistinguishable. But tonight, flickers of pumpkin-hued flames acted as my guide. For one evening every June, Tyrol resuscitates its centuries-old tradition of Kreidfeuer – chalk fires atop the Eastern Alps. Shapes of falcons, crosses and other emblems blaze bright across the valley, celebrating the arrival of midsummer rather than their former warning of adversaries. Like beacons on a runway, they ushered us onwards – mountain markers leading from the dark countryside to city sprawl. Stepping down from the coach, I shake off the striking-yet-long journey through Switzerland’s vines, lakes, and now oil lanterns. Midnight had already passed, and the solstice loomed ever closer. Somewhere above the city, hidden away in Austria’s Nordkette range, bonfires would still be searing and steins likely overflowing. By daybreak, the scent of smoke would be long gone, Innsbruck’s summer slipping in at first light. Innsbruck’s Golden Roof dazzles alongside the beer-ready summer terraces Terraces and towers If the Stadtturm was to be the lowest of the summer highs I’d experience in Innsbruck; I knew the city was setting up some seriously elevated expectations.  From the City’s Tower, a 51-metre tall 1450’s structure, a true 360-degree pop-up book panorama encircled me – the city’s highlights all seemingly close enough to reach out and touch. Shimmering below, the Goldenes Dachl – a landmark fresco-adorned fantasy topped with copper-gilded tiles – dominates a small square. Across the cobbles, the ornate facade of the Baroque Helblinghaus tries to compete for my attention. Behind, the green-domed copper roofs of the Imperial Palace accidentally blend in with the verdant mountain slope, while Maria-Theresien-Straße – named after the archduchess of Austria who adored the city – snakes in the opposite direction. From the Town Square, with its grand, pastel-hued buildings, to the Triumphal Arch, Maria’s Rome-inspired marble-clad memorial, this avenue forms the artery of the Altstadt. Beyond, the hill-topping Bergisel stands tall, a year-round reminder of Innsbruck’s sporting pulse. But my eyes can’t stay focused on ground level for long, the ever-presence of the peaks pulling them upwards. Innsbruck isn’t a city in the mountains, but rather the mountains are in the city. Wherever you are, you feel cocooned and humbled by their soaring faces. I close my eyes and imagine the city coated in winter snow, seeing a caricature of a Christmas card. When I open them, summer comes firmly back into view; there’s little more than a sprinkling of icing sugar atop the jagged giants today. Taking my cue from the call of the church bells – there had been no need to rise early on the longest day of the year – I set off in search of a typical Tyrolean lunch. The sun might not lend itself to hearty winter dishes, but a traditional Gröstl (diced potatoes and meat topped with an egg) would perfectly accompany the first beer of summer, With Sunday afternoon sunlight coating the streets, the terraces overflowed with plates, pints and people; postcard-perfect timber-beamed cafes were serving up serious ice cream; and locals clad in their breeziest of summer wear sat around the main town square soaking it all up. That’s not to say the city was crowded – Innsbruck’s main season is during the winter ski months – but merely making the most of these high sunshine-soaked spirits. Slipping into my temporary home, the Stage 12 Hotel, and ignoring the temptation of the top-floor sauna, I grabbed a couple more layers. It might be summer in Innsbruck’s pretty side streets, but far above the city, a much wilder and almost winter-like landscape awaited. With Innsbruck’s city centre cable cars, the mountains are moments away Alps open to all

Stepping off the Hungerburgbahn funicular at its namesake station, I was adamant I was in the wrong place. This all seemed to be far too easy.  From here, the promised peaks were just eight minutes away, courtesy of the Nordkettenbahnen cable car. Then, after a few moments more on a second lift, I would find the summit at Hafelekar. Ten minutes before, I’d been amongst city centre stores and churches, and in just ten more, I would apparently be approaching Innsbruck’s highest point – these Austrians don’t mess around with their mountain accessibility. The first stop of any journey up the Nordkette (Northern Range) is the Seegrube station. Stepping out from the glass box, Innsbruck’s summer started to fade, a cooling breeze riding on the winds, as were the paragliders high above.  At the mountain restaurant, tables were in demand. Families, older folks, and out-of-breath climbers from the Via Ferrata were recharging with hearty plates, while those with just beers or Hugos – an elderflower and prosecco cocktail – sat around the final embers of last night’s fires. It seemed like everyone was there, and the cable car’s accessibility created an open-to-all atmosphere. The easy-to-amble Path of Perspectives, with its jutting-out platforms, providing a non-intense trail for those who didn’t want to go any further. A starkly different scene awaits at the ‘Top of Innsbruck’ But I had my sights set on the summit, so I dutifully waited for the second car to the final station. It only took two minutes, but the temperature and landscape shifts were almost seismic. Here, far above the city, it felt like the two faces of Innsbruck were having their standoff. In the distance, the mint-green River Inn cut through the Old Town’s core, a mere summer speck in the valley below. Behind me, the rugged Karwendel mountains, still in part wearing their snow coat, seemed to roar. This scene wasn’t winter, nor was it summer; it was simply one of the Eastern Alps’ ever-changing expressions. To my right, a steep but short trail led to the Hafelekar Peak, the summit serving as Innsbruck’s highest point, an impressive 2,334 metres. To the left, another restaurant provided refuge, an ice-clad trail emerging around the corner. This is the gateway to Austria’s largest natural park – no mean feat in a country renowned for being Mother Nature’s canvas – and hiking trails of all levels are snuggled in all its conserved corners. But for those who simply want to pause and appreciate, this living Alpine artwork obliges. Atop Innsbruck, I felt like these heights truly were for all. Read More:Year-round festivals in Salzburg Zaha Hadid’s Bergisel Ski Jump is a year-round sporting wonder Year-round Alpine architecture  In my eagerness to enjoy Innsbruck’s crown, I’d paid little attention to the Alpine stations we’d crossed. The brainchild of the innovative Zaha Hadid, who the local ice formations had inspired, the perfectly polished and curved roofs seemingly float, suspended against the backdrop of the leafy inclines. Even the Hungerburgbahn itself is a nifty forte of design; the carriage’s varying heights as it slides up the slope are somewhat of a forward-thinking funicular design. But the legacy of the great late architect isn’t just restricted to transporting mountain goers, with her most famous Innsbruck design being the Bergisel.  Set on the city’s outskirts, at the point where urban sprawl fades and forests reclaim the story, this soaring tower is a testament to Innsbruck’s true love: skiing. So ingrained is the sport in the city’s psyche that Hadid dedicated herself to designing a tower that wasn’t just flawless in its presentation but also allowed an audience to appreciate the skill of these daredevils from all angles. Dating back to the 1930s, the stadium was a part of the city long before being rebuilt for the 1964 Winter Olympics. Hadid’s ski jump came much later, but its legacy is equally as timeless.  If

you’re wondering what to do in Innsbruck in summer to get a taste of the ski season, this is the place to be. Early morning or mid-afternoon, these adrenaline-chasing athletes will leave you in awe, either from the viewing platform or the cosy glass-fronted restaurant. With a sense of astonishment and a shot of espresso, I found myself pressed up against the glass once more, this time tracing the steep jumpers’ slope in disbelief. The Patscherkofel Cable Car can lead to trails or simply coffee A ticket to the trails  The following morning, after a night of summer celebrations along the riverside – the pastel-hued townhouses of the Mariahilf District seemed to be the local’s preferred backdrop for al fresco evenings – I was itching to be back amongst the mountains.  Today, my peak of choice was Patscherkofel, the little sister who stands across the valley from the Nordkette.  Summer hiking trails in Innsbruck, atop the Patscherkofel Flashing my Innsbruck card – the almost all-inclusive ticket to the city and Eastern Alps – to the bus driver, I set off for the included cable car. Passing through Igls, which I imagine is what I’d paint if tasked with depicting an Alpine village, the journey to the mountain’s base was as seamless and scenic as the ride to the top. Once at 2,000 metres, my intention of tackling the trails ebbed away. Instead, I found introspection amongst the Alpine Botanical and reflection on the restaurant’s terrace. I was reminded of the lessons from my favourite hike in Austria, the Asitz Mountain, where the slopes had taught me Alpine health is as much about doing nothing as strapping on those hiking boots. Read More:Graz, Austria’s sustainable second city Colourful houses by the river during summer in Innsbruck Midsummer museums It’s hard to describe, but Innsbruck in summer just feels like a city made for hikers. Even some of the green crossing lights are embellished with backpack-wearing walkers.  Though, of course, it’s equally a cultured city break, and I honestly believe you could come here and just admire the mountains from afar, never setting foot on a slope, and still thoroughly enjoy your time. Perhaps, museums and churches aren’t top of the list of things to do in Innsbruck on a sunny day, but like in the country’s other great cities – Vienna, Salzburg and Graz – it would be criminal to miss all of the nation’s classical heritage. That’s how I found myself spending my penultimate day in the city’s cultural attractions, hopping between the highlights, each filling in a little bit more of Innsbruck’s story. Starting in the Hofburg, the Habsburg’s hulking palace in the city’s heart, I traced Innsbruck’s imperial routes. This may have been the residence of Emperor Maximillian, but it’s Maria Theresa’s stamp you mainly see today. Across the street, the 16th-century Hofkirche (Court Church) is equally imposing. Home to Emperor Maximilian’s tomb, statues of his family line the central nave. But it was in the Tyrolean Folk Art Museum where I found the most answers, and it’s the space I’d deem most worthy of sacrificing a few inside hours of Innsbruck’s summer for. Across multiple floors, the region’s traditional clothes, toys, furniture and ceramics are displayed, with the reconstructed rooms from typical Tyrolean homes telling the tales of bygone times. Swarovski Kristallwelten shimmers even brighter in summer Tyrol’s summer tales continue  While my short but sweet summer holiday in Austria was soon to end, the highs certainly didn’t have to. My final day was a whirlwind of visits, stopping off at the medieval Old Town of Hall in Tirol, marvelling at the whimsical sight of Swarovski Kristallwelten, and touring the majestic Ambras Palace, where portrait galleries and grand halls convene.  By the time I boarded my onward train, I knew that Innsbruck in summer was indeed an underrated European city. With plenty more of Tyrol’s tales left unexplored

– such as the turquoise fringes of Lake Achensee, the river-topping Kufstein Fortress, and Austria’s second-largest glacier, the Kaunertal – I also knew I’d be back for another summer sampling someday. The Spanish Hall inside Schloss Ambras But the real story of summer in Innsbruck isn’t Emperors and Emeralds, nor how the city meets the mountains in a mere 30 minutes, but rather how these Alps are accessible and open to all. Nowhere before have I witnessed such a spectrum of people – whether they be visiting with boots, buggy, walking stick or wheelchair – relishing the peaks. Forget finger tracing from afar; there’s a figurative and literal high here that anyone can hold in their hand, one which will burn long after the Kreidfeuer’s last flames have extinguished. Plan your trip:How to spend a weekend in Innsbruck Pin It: Summer in Innsbruck [ad_2] Source link

[puddingvalkyrie]

I have a new character to introduce, but I don't know if I ever explained something about my yokai... I HAVE explained before that animal yokai have an animal form and a human form. But I don't think I ever explained that they have some control over the appearance of the human form. 

In Fairyland, where there are advantages to it, yokai will often signal their other form. Aurelia's other form is a large tabby cat, so she likes to have stripes in her hair and has pointy teeth. Kiko is a fox yokai, so she usually has her hair red with white ends. Anywhere it's more useful to look like a regular ol' human, they will tone it down and appear as human as possible. 

This is useful information for understanding the following muffin:

Her name is currently Larina, but it might change. She's very new and from my Midnight Oil Cafe story, but I haven't got to her turning up yet.

She has limited control over her human appearance, which changes with her mood.

[storiesbyash]

Ninth District

In the cyberpunk heart of the Ninth District, a single piece of gossip had twisted and turned its way through the city, a whisper in the neural network. But where truth ended and fiction began, nobody could tell. After all, in a world run by machines, who could tell the difference between a glitch and a revelation?

In the perpetually twilight-drenched arteries of the Ninth District, a cheeky little rumor had put down roots. Scooting its way across the silicon-tinged chatter of the digitized proletarian, it played a game of telephone with the city's brainy network. It was a bit of a hiccup in the otherwise smooth digestion of facts and truths.

The narrative kicked off, quite predictably, in a pub. The Steel Sprocket was one of those out-of-the-way watering holes where one could chase solace down to the bottom of a budget-friendly synth-ale. It was here that Old Man Rikker, a fleshy anomaly in a world of computerized taskmasters, first launched the tale into orbit.

"Listen up, whippersnappers," Rikker wheezed, eyeballing the murkily lit room. "The Corp's got a fresh plaything. A real game-changer. They're calling it: Rebirth."

This juicy morsel was then served up to 8-Ball, the cyborg taxi chauffeur with a solitary human peeper and a soft spot for eavesdropping. "Rikker's spilled some beans," he murmured, his voice soft as his anti-grav cab floated through the midnight fog. "Something about The Corp whipping up a contraption that can bring back the dead. They're dubbing it Project: Resurrection."

That's when Zeta, the AI barista moonlighting at the Cafe Obsidian, brewed it further. "Fibre-optic grapevine's got a story," she informed her patrons, her holographic figure dancing in the light. "The Corp's been burning the midnight oil. They're crafting a time machine. Project: Redemption. Do-over opportunity, see?"

And so, in the rain-kissed arteries of the Ninth District, the tale grew legs and ran. A tool to upend the status quo. A gizmo to resurrect the deceased. A contraption capable of a temporal U-turn. The specifics twisted and contorted, akin to the shadows thrown by jittering neon signs.

At last, the whispers ascended the social ladder, breaching the upper echelons where crystal clear glass towers scraped the polluted sky. In a plush penthouse surveying the dystopian sprawl, the CEO of The Corp lounged behind his table, a cat-that-got-the-cream grin plastered on his face.

A holographic screen sparked to life, showcasing a shadowy figure. "The hearsay's taken root, boss," the enigmatic persona reported, its voice as chilly and unemotional as a faulty fridge. "The mob's intrigued, apprehensive, hopeful."

"Oh, absolutely smashing," the CEO replied, leaning back leisurely in his chair, his eyes reflecting the city's neon glow as if he'd stolen a piece of the dusk for himself. "Let them natter, let them theorize. In the meantime, we'll bulldoze ahead with Project: Revelation. By the time they unravel the enigma, the game will be all but won."

And so it was that the gears of The Corp began to whirl with a fervor previously unseen. The titanic steel beasts in the heart of the city hummed into overdrive, pumping out mysterious contraptions and mysterious widgets that even the savviest of tech heads couldn't decode.

Days became weeks, weeks became months. The city lived on the pulse of gossip, speculation pulsating through its veins, brightening the glow of the neon signs. The once hardy whisper had now become a loud roar, an incessant static that filled every nook and cranny of the Ninth District.

And then, quite without warning, all fell silent. The Corp’s machines hummed no more, the lights in the great glass tower dimmed. The city held its collective breath, waiting, anticipating.

Finally, as the eternal twilight turned into an even deeper night, the main screens of the city flickered on. The shadowy figure appeared once more, only this time it bore the corporeal resemblance of the CEO. His eyes, mirroring the city's neon radiance, bore into every citizen with an unwavering gaze.

“Citizens of the Ninth District,” his synthetic voice echoed through the dark, empty streets, ��Project: Revelation is complete. We thank you for your... patience."

"My dear citizens of the Ninth District," the CEO began, his voice slick as oil on chrome. "Today marks a new dawn in our collective journey."

Behind him, something massive stirred, a marvel of engineering finally waking from a long slumber. It wasn't a tool, a device, or a mere machine. It was a veritable titan of information, a kingmaker of rumors.

"This, my friends," he gestured grandly at the mechanical behemoth behind him, "is your new compass in the information wilderness. A beacon of speculation, if you will, expertly crafted to sift through the mundane and unearth the extraordinary."

Indeed, it was a control mechanism, but not the tyrannical sort. He wouldn't put it that way. No, this was a facilitator. A fulcrum on which the wheel of public opinion would turn.

"This marvel will generate an endless stream of rumors, tall tales, and tantalizing tidbits," he declared, eyes gleaming with barely contained excitement. "It'll provide the daily grist for your mills of conversation, the fodder for your social engagements. Think of it as... your very own, personalized tabloid, unburdened by the chains of truth or reality."

Then, he dropped the bombshell. "Of course, in this era of ours, information is valuable, and facts, well, they're premium. For those of you who crave a dash of reality with your daily dose of rumors, we're offering a unique opportunity—a subscription service."

His smile widened, the neon glow of the city reflecting in his eyes. "For a small fee, you can puncture the veil of rumors, get a glimpse of the truth beneath the speculation. Our machine will still spin its yarns, but you'll hold the power to separate the wheat from the chaff. No more blind faith, no more uncertainty. Just the raw, unvarnished truth at your fingertips."

And so, the CEO concluded, "Let the whispers spread, let the tales take flight. We welcome you all to a new era of informed speculation. Get ready, Ninth District. The game is about to get a lot more interesting."

[space-whalesharks]

THE numbers for all three UNO REVERSE CARD!!!

4. How did they first meet?

Kali and Alex: In a bar in 2016. Both were frequenting it with their own groups of friends but then like some movie their eyes met across the floor. Kali was the first to approach since her new bestie Winona was also trying to shoot her shot with one of his friends, so she made herself scarce by going after him, and the rest is history.

Dean and Soap: This is sort of a complicated one. Technically they met during Soaps early days on the squad when Dean was helicoptering them out for a mission, but they really didn't remember names/ it was a quick mutual nod and forgettable small talk to kill time. They met enough to count it as memorable in the midst of Graves' betrayal when he recruited Dean to keep an eye out for Soap in order to kill him, but after feeling strange about the betrayal, he helped Soap escape and Soap sought him out afterward to thank him and strike up an official friendship.

John and Chris: During a recon mission in London, there was a brief few hours where all John and the crew could do was hurry up and wait, so he stopped into a local cafe to get caffeinated and struck up a conversation with the customer next to him, Chris. The pair got along and talked long enough that John almost missed the next meetup that he needed to be at. He went back the next day not expecting to see her at all/figuring it was a fluke but she walked in again, he decided to throw caution to the wind, offered his number and she took it. They met up the very next time he was in town on leave, and kept at it.

8. What’s one way their personalities complement one another?

Kali and Alex: It was really only their senses of humor that matched first. The first thing Kali did to him was basically playfully roast his hair and he was able to run with the hypothetical swat and gave a couple of jabs back that were on the same level. Otherwise, their personalities are pretty close in the level-headed, mature, kind sense so they balance each other out.

Dean and Soap: Really just 'anxious energy' vs 'controlled-to-slightly- chaotic energy.' Their brains are both usually going a mile a minute and sort of find peace in each other with that because Dean can reel in Soap's reckless edge and in turn Soap can help Dean work through whatever worry of the hour he's got.

John and Chris: Another "too similar for their own good" couple- they're both level-headed, mostly soft-spoken, parental-ish figures to their own people. So when a Mommy and a Dadd- you know what nevermind that joke won't hit the right way after using those words.

15. Who is more likely to make an impulsive decision and who is the voice of reason?

Kali and Alex: It could be a mixed bag/they probably take turns. For Alex there's usually a very important reason he does impulse and Kali understands so she'll at least try to iron out the corners of whatever he's thinking so he can do it safely/see it all ways. She can just be impulsive in general and on occasion he'll hit her with a soft "are you sure?" that maaay get her to rethink things. Or just throws fuel on the fire.

Dean and Soap: Soap's the more impulsive one by a mile. He acts in the moment; Dean's brain doesn't let him not consider all the ways something could go wrong. But when he's trying to check Soap, he tries his best to tone down the negativity.

John and Chris: Neither again. They're the Parent Friend, there is no impulse there, they think things through unless there's an emergency and impulse is a need.

16. Who stays up way too late and who tries to drag them to bed?

Kali and Alex: Most of the time it's Kali, usually burning the midnight oils cleaning or doing something crafty and Alex has to coax her away if it gets into the early hours of the morning where he knows she'll be a tired wreck the next day.

Dean and Soap: Another toss-up. They get stuff done when they want to get stuff done, and if it's late, so be it. Usually the other just wants company so they'll convince the other to come to bed.

John and Chris: John, usually hyper analyzing mission information/going over a failed mission in his head. Chris knows his habits after a while and she tries to steer clear to let him process in peace most of the time, but if she sees him physically start looking tired, even if he insists he'll be to bed soon she'll dig her heels in, try to force eye contact and hit him with puppy eyes to convince him to take it easy for the rest of the night.

23. Who overthinks the most?

Kali and Alex: Neither, since they're not particular overthinkers for the most part.

Dean and Soap: Dean, hands down. Man's brain never gives him a break. It's a damn miracle that it finally gives him some peace when he's flying. Sort of poetic, really.

John and Chris: John, for the same reasons as the last question.

[seeker372011]

Day 11- homeward bound

We left the Eyre peninsula headed to Renmark on the Murray river,and as we drove from Port Augusta the blue of the Gulf Spencer and the grey and reddish brown of the Flinders Ranges sang their beguiling siren song entreating us not to leave.

But leave we did, driving without pause till a few kms out of Burra when we pulled over to take a photo of the Midnight Oil house; and then again very briefly at the lookout at Morgan, where we were offered fine views of the Murray, still very full and flowing fast though perhaps not as fast as it was when we passed this way 10 days ago.

Our first real stop was at Lake Bonney in Barmera where we drove a bit around the lake and discovered that Donald Campbell, back in 1964 had attempted to break the world water speed record on Lake Bonney, (he was unsuccessful). He reached 347.5 km/h but the lake was too small and the waves created by the speeding vehicle - the Bluebird-were too dangerous.

There is a Bluebird cafe on the lake front honouring this attempt.

We were tempted to head on to the Banrock Station- not far away but it was just too hot and uncomfortable, so we drove on to Berri, duly impressed by the enormous facilities of the Berri Estates and the many other vineyards along the way.

We stopped at the river, near the bridge, but the heat had completely sapped our energy.

With no enthusiasm for any more exploring we headed to our Caravan park in Renmark to settle down for the night, all worn out.

The minimum tonight is supposed to be 37 deg C . And we have no air conditioning….

Tomorrow is another scorcher.

[christinescupofcoffee]

Midnight Oil

Chapter Four: Death By Chocolate

The train ride was a pleasant one, and Alex helped himself to two plates of pain au chocolat once the parlor cart rolled up to their compartment. He leaned back with one plate placed on the seat next to him and the other plate rested upon his lap; there was also an array of fresh fruit that he simply could not find back home in the United States, and he took a plate for himself. Christian helped himself to that as well as a small slice of the lush Black Forest cake on the bottom shelf of the cart; Alex closed his eyes and took in a whiff of the cherry and kirsch embedded in the slice of cake rested upon his lap: the smell of decadence and indulgence, the kind of smell that he wanted to pick up for himself in this time.

Two cups of coffee despite having had cups of tea prior to their departure, and they were left in the compartment once again, to which Alex couldn’t help but laugh to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Christian asked him, and he couldn’t resist the smile on his face.

“If I stay here too long, I’m gonna get so fat,” Alex decreed with his mouth full of flaky pastry.

“Not necessarily,” Christian assured him. “As long as you and I stay active, you won’t even gain a pound.”

“Is that why you guys eat so much and yet you stay so slender?”

“Precisely why. In fact, that’s why people in Italy eat as much as they do but they maintain their lovely figures.” Alex hooded his eyes at the sound of that, and more so when he thought back to the fantasy he had had beforehand. He knew he was going to tell Christian about it, but there had to be the best time for it: you don’t throw something like in a conversation about socks unless the socks had something to do with the act itself.

“We are headed for a place that I like to call ‘Café au Sol’, except it’s not a cafe,” Christian explained.

“Why do you call it ‘cafe’ then?”

“To fool people,” he replied. “There actually is a cafe right next door there, but we go to the place next door. It is a place with a mosaic front door that looks as though it is only for show, but it’s a legitimate door.”

“So, you just call it ‘cafe’, it’s not a legitimate place,” Alex followed as he took another bite of pastry.

“It is legitimate, just not a legitimate cafe.”

“And what’s the cafe called? The cafe next door?”

“‘Cafe au Prince’,” Christian replied.

“So you call it ‘Café au Sol’ but it’s not a cafe and it’s next door to an actual cafe named for a prince,” Alex followed along.

“Yes.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you call it ‘Café au Sol’, though.”

“We are the sun and they are the royal ones,” Christian quipped with a slight wag of the finger.

“But hang on, wouldn’t we be the royal ones?” Alex pointed out as he popped the last bite of pain au chocolat into his mouth. “We’re the sun. The sun rises high over the golden and copper crowns in a golden crown all on its own.”

“True, but remember: the prince is the one who rules over the land. The sun is actually second in line to the throne.”

Alex squinted his eyes at that, but in a way, it made sense when he thought about it for a second. He picked up the next plate of pastry and began on it: despite having eaten before the train ride, he still had yet to eat until he was completely full.

“Ironic,” Christian remarked as he sipped on his coffee.

“What’s ironic?”

“You seemed so reticent about having pastries and all manner of baked goods over here in Europe,” he replied, “and yet you are scarfing them up as if you haven’t eaten in years.”

“Let’s just say that the breakup has given me a new zest for life,” Alex explained. “Sometimes I have to have a seat and sit with my feelings, and then when I’m done, I have to rebuild.”

“That is all you have to do,” Christian assured him. “Lick your wounds and then lick what makes you happy.”

“Does that include guitar licks?”

“If you would like for it to,” Christian replied with a shrug and another sip of coffee. He then turned to the sourdough toast accompanied with butter and fresh strawberries next to him. “Care for a strawberry?”

“I’ve got some over here,” Alex said, and he showed him the little white plate with the fresh strawberries, as red and ripe as they possibly could be. But first, there was the manner of pastry at hand: the taste and caress of chocolate before he moved onto the tangy bite of the berries right next to him.

“So, when do we go back to Cologne?” Alex asked him once he swallowed down the bite of pastry.

“In a couple of days,” Christian promised him with a nod of his head. “We are going to be there as well, so… I shall join you on the ride back.” He flashed him a wink, wherein Alex showed him a smirk in return. He sloughed off another bite of the pastry and popped it into his mouth.

“God… this is so delicious,” he said in a low voice. “It’s not nearly as sweet as one would expect across the pond.”

“We do not use as much sugar over here, sugar cane,” Christian stated with a slight twinkle in his eye.

“Sugar cane? Is that what you called me?” Alex chuckled at that with his mouth full.

“Yes, because you are sweet and sticky like an actual sugar cane,” Christian explained.

“Sticky… sticky like my kingdom of come,” he quipped once he swallowed it down and prepared to take another bite.

“The kingdom of come which of course manifested back when they banned missionary over here,” he said, and Alex lifted his gaze from the pastry, and Christian chuckled at that.

“They banned missionary?” Alex asked with his mouth full.

“No, I just said that to see if you were paying attention. They did however ban public masturbation.”

“God damn it.” And Christian cackled at that, complete with a clap of his hands. He then turned to the sourdough and the strawberries, the former of which Alex could see had a faint dusting of cinnamon over the top.

“A little bit of cinnamon for the cinnamon boy,” Christian declared; Alex looked over at him with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Sugar cane, cinnamon boy… I feel you have a full arsenal of nicknames for me,” he said.

“No, no, I am the cinnamon boy,” Christian corrected him.

“You’re the cinnamon boy?” Alex couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Sugar cane and the cinnamon boy,” Christian decreed. “Sounds like a comic.”

“A gay one at that,” Alex chided, and Christian laughed again.

The two of them fell back into comfortable silence, complete with the clanking and clattering and gentle swaying of the train around them, and they continued to indulge on their food, at least until the lush countryside right outside of the train gave way to the next couple of stops, and both of them knew that Saärbrucken was upon them. The tiny villages dotted about the horizon at the rim of the Ardennes Forest all made Alex think of gingerbread, fresh out of the oven, and then decorated with sugar plums and all things sweet and fresh. Everything was all fresh and moist: even if there was sugar added to the recipe, it nourished him in ways that he could not seem to find back home in the States.

Indeed, he thought of gingerbread some more when the train slowed down for the next stop in Saärbrucken. The meandering river glittered under the morning sun and the cathedral rose up over the landscape as if they had entered candyland.

“So, where is this place?” Alex asked as he licked his fingers clean of the extraneous juice from the strawberries: at that point, he was feeling comfortable from the amount of food that he had eaten since they had woken up and picked themselves off the grass below the cathedral back in Cologne.

“I will show you,” Christian vowed with a nod and a flash of his eyebrows.

The train came to a halt, and they picked up their things and filed out of the train to the pristine platform bathed in that golden German sunlight. Alex stood outside first, and he ran his fingers through his black curls, complete with a brief flash of his gray roots. Something about the city made him not only think of gingerbread but of more and more pastry.

“We are actually not too far from the border of France,” Christian told him as he gathered himself right next to him. “In fact, tomorrow—after we have settled into our little hideaway from the rest of the world—we can go to the border if you would like.”

“To the border and then somewhere in there over to Stalag Luft III,” Alex stated. “And then we begin the tour.”

“We begin the tour, complete with all of the scrumptious goods that you could ever ask for,” Christian vowed to him with a slight gesture of his hand. “Although I am not sure that we can do Stalag Luft III unless we make a mad dash over to Poland from here. Either way, I vow to take you there.” He then gestured for Alex to follow him to the heart of the train station to check in.

Once out to the street again, they began the walk up the block lined with the clear and straight buildings which seemed to be made of pure gold. At one point, Alex could feel Christian’s fingers creeping around the side of his hand, which in turn sent a deep shiver up his spine. He flashed Christian a knowing glance as he knew they could do just that and no one on the street would ask them any stupid questions.

He let Christian link his hand around his once they had cleared the first crosswalk. The wounds on his heart notwithstanding, he was holding hands with someone and what better person than the wolf man right at his side. Alex licked his lips and took in the smell of confectionery from a row of bakeries off to the left side there.

To heal his wounds and come out the other side with the strongest of scar tissue.

At the end of the cobbled street stood a cafe with what appeared to be a crown of thorns on the square wooden sign painted a soft olive green: the words “cafe au Prince” were engraved and then painted black so they could see it from way down the block. Big green umbrellas dotted the outdoor patio out front, and Alex could already feel himself growing fuller and stronger by being around the hustle and bustle of the city and the cafe itself at lunchtime. Next to the edge of the outdoor patio stood a wooden door tucked back into a brick wall; once they had cleared the patio and the wooden door, Alex spotted the next door over, one decorated in a mosaic pattern of a sun paired with a crescent moon, a series of stars, and what appeared to be the arm of the Milky Way.

With a quick glimpse over his shoulder, Christian took out a key and unlocked the door for them. Behind the mosaic stood a corridor lined with more mosaics, however, these were much more elaborate and showcased what appeared to be a seascape, complete with coral, waves, and mermaids perched upon rocks.

“Welcome,” Christian decreed with his arms outstretched before him. Alex ran his fingers through his black curls as he let his eyes wander up the side of the main corridor into Café au Sol.

Despite it being nice and warm outside, the corridor itself was warm and cozy as if there was a foot of snow on the ground. Christian shut the door behind them, and Alex walked along the heavy dark wooden floor to the end, where he was met with a small room with a chaise lounge and a round queen-sized bed ensconced in crushed red velvet: a red tapestry draped over the head of the bed, and the mere sight of it left him with a feeling of butterflies in the middle of his stomach. In fact, the feeling was so strong that he rested a hand on his belly; Christian strolled on up next to him and gently patted him there.

“Feeling good and at home, I see,” he remarked, and Alex showed him a playful little smirk. He then let his eyes wander over to the heavy wooden bureau tucked in the far corner of the room, and he had a feeling he was going to frequent here more and more in the future.

“Hey, look at that,” Alex said, and he walked on over there, and he picked out the small sleek camera from the top of the bureau.

“You want some fun, don’t you?” Christian cracked a smile at him.

“You know it. In fact, when we were on our way here, I had a… a…”

“A what?” Christian inched closer to him, still with that smile on his face as if he was thinking about something as decadent and delicious as those pains au chocolats back on the train.

“A thought,” was all Alex could say, to which Christian responded with setting his things down on the floor by the foot of the bed and a run of his fingers through his platinum hair.

“What’re you doing?” Alex asked him.

“Allow me to get into costume, and then we shall get started,” he replied in a voice as soft and velvety as melted chocolate.

[astroglenn]

What I think Overwatch Characters would smell like

Just a random list in no particular order because i’m like that

[Going based on their default skins] 

Lucio - Something nature, specifically like rainforest or rainy day to go with the frog aspect of things 

Moira - she would have a heavily chemical smell like rubbing alcohol, but I feel like she just always has a hint of cinnamon she would also smell like an entire bottle of dark temptation Axe body spray it’s the transfem energies 

Sigma - Fresh Linen, Sigma would be a clean freak he would always smell like a clean freak. But Midnight Sky would also be a fitting smell for him, something breezy like the night as he watches the stars 

Junkrat - Constant smell of sweat and gunpowder, but the amount of gunpowder overwhelms the sweat.

Roadhog - Same goes for Junkrat, but most of a leathery smell with the gunpowder rather than sweat. 

Mercy - An entire bath and body works. 

Reinhardt - Old Spice with Beer No need to explain

D.va - Doritos and Mtn Dew, Gamer sweat 

Doomfist - Just ENTIRELY OLD SPICE with a hint of blood

Junkerqueen - Metal, with a hint of axe, the metal is more of an iron smell

Orisa - Smells like a grandma’s house 

Ramattra - Wires, with a hint of some dark goth spray knowing him

Winston - Peanut Butter 

Wreaking Ball - Hamster’s Cage

Zarya - Gym supplies and hair gel

Ashe - Leathery and very strong perfume

Bastion - Hint of birdy smell with some grass in combination of his metal

Cassidy - Cigars 

Echo - New plastic, like when you buy a fresh new product and get that scent of it 

Genji - Japanese Cherry Blossom

Hanzo - Haiku Avon Perfume

Mei - The cold (As a neurodivergent the cold does have a smell I cant describe it but imagine just smelling the entire artic)

Pharah - Deodorant, with a hint of gun powder

 Reaper - And entire hot topic

Sojourn -  Crossiants, Maple and wood

Solider 76 - Just a dad

Sombra - I just feel like she would have a Lavender smell to her 

Symmetra - Spices, Coriander, Saffron, Etc

Torbjorn - Oil, Old Man Cologne 

Tracer - Fruity Smells 

Widowmaker - Roses

Ana - Butterscotch

Baptiste - A Coffee Shop or Cafe 

Brigitte - Sunflowers, Flowery like smells

Kiriko - Sugarcane with Donuts

Zenyatta - Old Cloth, with a hint of gold 

[stellartales]

vyn richter hcs | mornings and nights with him

request: Hey I just saw your post saying you'd be accepting requests for tot, since I have seen very few Vyn related content let me request some domestic headcannons for Vyn. Thank you!!

tags: @vyn-richters-world, @tsukimiyuukun (sorry i couldn't tag you :( you didn't pop up when i was trying to tag you; are you shadow-banned by tumblr? so strange.)

a/n: domestic headcanons consist of several themes so i've decided to write about your mornings and nights with him. i've thought up of many domestic headcanon themes for upcoming Vyn's headcanons so more to come—!

♧ in the morning.

▪︎ on the days you have to head to the office, this man would always be up before you are.

▪︎ and when it's your turn to wake up, you will usually be greeted by the light, aromatic scent of tea.

▪︎ upon entering the kitchen, you will see Vyn in an apron standing over the stove cooking your breakfast. The tea you smelled while you laid in bed earlier is quietly brewing in a tea maker you often see Vyn use to make tea.

this is something you often experience in the mornings you have to leave for work. Vyn makes a wonderful boyfriend/husband who takes very good care of you — he would never let you leave home with an empty stomach.

his cooking is something you always look forward to. his skill had produced the tastiest steak you have come across; enough to give luxurious restaurants a run for their money.

his tea brewing skills is, of course, always superb.

▪︎ sometimes, you will see him cooking in the robes he wear to sleep. it is usually worn loosely over his chest. so when he turns around, you can see his chiseled built beneath.

▪︎ at times, you would see him already in his button-down shirt. his sleeves will be rolled up and folded neatly around his elbows — a sight you find hard to look away from.

— the way his button-down hugged the outline of his broad shoulders and highlights the area between his shoulder blades often made it hard to resist hugging him from behind, snuggling into his back when he is busy cooking the food on the stove.

▪︎ on your off days, this man would still be up before you are, but he would remain by your side while you slumber. you usually had to be away in the office for a full five days and sometimes even on Saturdays, so he really cherishes the days you could stay home.

if only you could see the look of adoration in his light honey eyes when you mumble into his chest and snuggle up against him.

▪︎ once you are awake, he would ask you to dress up because he is about to bring you to the cafes for breakfast dates. which is an activity you enjoy; it is a precious time to you. To be able to relish in his presence while being out, not due to work for once, is such a treat.

♧ at night.

▪︎ your job as an attorney sometimes requires you to work through the night.

And when that happens, Vyn would stay up with you — he is not new to staying up late due to what he does. He will never forget to brew you some tea as a beverage companion as you work through the night.

▪︎ often, he finds you dozing off on your desk or on the sofa where you sometimes choose to work on. and when he does, he would bridal-style carry you into your bedroom and tuck you in. of course, never forgetting to leave a kiss on your forehead before turning in beside you.

▪︎ on the days you didn't have to stay up late for work, but he has to. He would still join you in bed with his notebook and reading materials

you really enjoy it when he does this. listening to him flipping through the pages and scribbling things down on his notebooks were like lullabies to you; the noises makes you drowsy; live ASMR by Vyn himself hahah— he probably figured that you enjoy this hence he do this often whenever he had to burn the midnight oil.

▪︎ at times when he does this, he would run his hand through your hair gently, combing through it. there's so much affection in the gesture itself.

▪︎ Vyn is a gentleman and he doesn't really show his love directly; he is not the type who would sweep you into a passionate kiss in the middle of the street, but rather in quiet, subtle ways in private moments — such as the action mentioned in the point above.

END.

—published on 09.08.2021

[vrylium]

15, 16 October 2022

I stayed overnight in a mountain cabin in Big Bear, California this weekend! On the way up, I realized I couldn’t tell the difference between driving through dense fog versus driving through a cloud (Big Bear Lake elevation: 6,752′). By the time we reached the Village, the sky was relatively clear, but there was rain in the forecast.

In the Village I browsed hiking gear and tourist souvenirs. I bought snacks and drank tea outside a cafe, then picked out some stickers for my journal and my pen pals. Later in the day we checked into the cabin. It was insanely cozy. I had a room with a balcony! The rain rolled in around 4:00pm.

We cooked our own dinner using the provided kitchen. I was happily one of the chefs providing us with a feast of paprika chicken, salmon, pasta salad, and green beans with red potatoes. Hilariously, we were panicking in the kitchen because the pans weren’t non-stick and we ran out of oil, but you’d never guess we had any troubles. Everything tasted great; the kitchen team pulled through.

I was very pleased to consistently provide utilitarian odds and ends during our stay. I have a little Topo Designs pouch that I bring everywhere with me. It contains a little Bic lighter, a mini tin of pain medication, bandages, alcohol pads, safety pins, and more. This pouch saw more use this weekend than other discrete period of time since I first assembled it. The feeling of having a solution to virtually any problem thrown at me is among the best feelings I have ever experienced.

After the incredible fiasco of getting the fireplace started (that will not be relayed here), we went out to the hot tub and fire pit on the deck. In the rain. It was a thunderstorm. Within the hour, it started to hail, and the storm’s light-sound discrepancy narrowed to within two miles at most, so we went back inside the cabin to roast s’mores and watch movies.

I was so drunk and high by the end of the night, I cleaned the entire kitchen. I made it spotless. Before bed I wrote in my journal and read the introduction to my copy of The Grapes of Wrath, something usually part of high school or college curriculum, but my classes hadn’t covered it. Lately, I’ve been trying to read all the classics I wasn’t exposed to in school.

The night was cold (below 35°F), but I was delighted to be cold. I layered up, switched on the space heater, got real cozy, but a friend’s snoring was keeping me awake. So I watched one of my favorite streamers play Scorn for about an hour. In sleepy delirium, I started seeing motifs reminiscent of Giger and Beksinski on the ceiling, where the bedroom’s nightlights were casting long shadows. I thought it was interesting that I so easily sidestepped being spooked after ingesting horror, past midnight in a rainstorm, in an unfamiliar cabin (exhaustion is a hell of a drug).

In the morning I read. It was so quiet and peaceful. The maple trees are turning bright red and there were bluejays out. I remember a wholesome fifteen minutes on the second day, while out in the chilly air, where I had achieved the exact clothing composition that gave me perfect temperature comfort; an ultimate sense of physical synchronicity so rare it stuns me whenever it happens.